#if i’m this mean sober i’d hate to see myself drunk these days. jesus christ what kinda hell lives within me

[seventh-district]

it’s a shame that i think Spotify’s already stopped collecting this year’s data bc if i’d found this song earlier i just know it would’ve easily made my top 100

[gayenerd]

Interview with Billie for the Kerrang Yearbook. Sounds like this took place around 2000-2001?

Hello Billie Joe. A bit pissed at the Kerrang Awards weren't you? "I was drinking with Papa Roach the night before. Everybody went to see The Cult in Brixton. All the American bands like Papa Roach and Queens Of The Stone Age were there. I felt terrible when I got out of bed to go to the Kerrang Awards." Who ended up worse off - you or Coby Dick? "Sometimes Coby can't even hold it together when he's sober! He's super-hyper all the time. You have to say, 'Coby, turn it off for 2 minutes - I'm in my bunk!' Then he'll turn it off and you can get into a decent conversation." You experienced some difficulty in getting off the stage after accepting your Kerrang Award. "Award's shows freak me out - I'm so scared shitless of those things so I end up doing stupid things. I never theought I'd ever win an award for playing music. Watching all our videos being shown up on the screen, I just looked at Mike and Tre and said. 'Does this mean we're old now?' I can be such a self-conscious freak. I just don't know how to be cool." What's the healthiest thing you've done this year? "I like to keep myself fit. I run, I skateboard, and i'll hit the weights every other day. You reach a certain age when you've gotta start looking out for yourself. I'm staring down the barrel of 30, you know? My dad really let himself fall to @#%$ and I don't want to end up like that. Theres a preconcieved idea about musicians and punk musicians in particular that we have to self-destruct, and I can't buy into that. I like to breathe. Like like it when my heart beats - Its a really cool thing." Have you cut down on your drinking recently? "When i'm on tour I drink all day long with the guys. There's nothing else to do. But i've been at homea while. There are many, many moods to Billie Joe. There's drunk me and theres not-drunk me." What have you learned about being a father during the past year? "You learn new things every day as your kids' characters and personalities are building. Joey is 6 now, he's not a baby at all, he's a little boy. And Jacob, who's 3, is a maniac. The one rule I have is that I never expose them to television." What have you learned about Tre and Mike this past year? "Wow (long pause). I learned that Mike is a Bob Dylan fan, which was kind of suprising. I'm not the biggest fan but I definately appreciate Bob Dylan. And Tre is becoming really fluent in Spanish. His wife is Nicaraguan." What color has your hair been this year? "I shaved my head when I got off the road. Its been black. I haven't really been changing it. When the boy groups started dyeing their hair, I had to stop." Any fashion tips you'd care to pass on to Kerrang readers? "I've been wearing the same pants since High School! Never been into the Versace thing." Best punk rock song you've heard this year? "Last Nite by The Strokes. They're not really a punk band, but those guys have a really cool outlook and a good sensibility about how they present themselves. All the rap rock metal bands have lost that rock'n'roll element, and i'm just a sucker for good rock'n'roll music." What song has been stuck in your head this year, even though you hate it? "Smooth Criminal by Alien Ant Farm. It was bad when Michael Jackson sang it, but it's even worse second time around! Y'know, I think Michael Jackson should join Slipknot. His face looks so bizarre now, its like he's wearing a mask." Are Slipknot still the scariest dudes in rock? "In about a year from now, if they're still as popular as they are now, they'll be as American as apple pie. That's sort of what happened to Marilyn Manson. When he came out he was really scary looking, like 'Jesus Christ! This guy is a maniac!' But now its, 'Oh, theres Marilyn, mowing the lawn, no big deal.' I like Manson, but it's funny how the most normal people end up being the most threatening, and the people who are scariest at first end up kinda normal. That's the dissapointing thing about shock value. Neil Young is more threatening than Slipknot just because he's smarter and has more of an opinion." How much fun did you have on tour in 2001? "It's really exciting at first because you're in different places every day, but after a while i'd rather be home. I get into really long conversations with my wife, I talk to my kids a lot, I'll write little notes and draw pictures for them and fax them to the house. Our sets are getting longer, sometimes we'll play up to three hours, and its because there is no rock'n'roll lifestyle for me other than that. I'm a devoted husband and a devoted father, and so all that decadent bullshit is not my thing. You start to wonder, 'Is this the life for me?' But then I get home and I dont know what the @#%$ to do with myself because i'm not playing music. People have looked at us and gone, 'Obviously these guys have no place to go after the gig because they're still on stage!'" Where were you on September 11? "I was on West Coast time, so it was really early in the morning for me. I saw the towers fall, and it felt like the world was gonna end. What amazes me is that Tony Blair is almost heading the coalition by himself! Does he realise what he's getting his country into? This is @#%$ serious! There's been a lot of shocking words used: the 'crusade against terrorism'. The las thing you say to someone from the Middle East is the word 'crusade'." After September 11, do you share America's renewed sense of patriotism? "No way. I can't really see myself as a patriot. I don't see what happened in New York as an act of war, it's an act of terrorism. Every country has had to deal with terrorism in some form, and this is the first time America has ever seen it and they dont know what to do, so everyone is clinging to these war slogans. All the flags is people's cars and homes - it just seems kind of gross to me." Has American learnt from the tragedy? "I hope some good stuff comes out of this. People have become so self-absorbed and dedicated to their careers. I'm not a person to wave a flag for family values or anything like that, but there comes a time when your relationships and your family is the most important thing, not whether you're making $100,000 every year. Thats what I hope comes out of it - that people realise the important things in life." Six Of The Best Best Friend: " Valium. Lots of plane flights, man. Valium only lasts four hours, so if you're on an 11 hour flight take two and a half." Best advice: "Put your head between your knees if you think you are gonna pass out." Best Ass: "Tre Cool. Not only because he has one, but because he is one." Personal Best: The pinnacle moment for me this year, musically, was playing Reading. It was a great show. There's so many bands nowadays who can't play live, but to actually do it and have people singing along and getting something sentimental out of it at the same time, thats rare, and we achieved that at Reading." Best Night Out: "The furst night I went out after september 11. I really went for it. American has these feelings of its days being numbered. It's like a country that has just got cancer, but the cancer's in remission. A lot of people are doing all the things they've always talked about doing. I hadn't partied really hard in a while, so that's what I did. I went to a couple of bars with Mike and Tre and our producer. We got loud and had a good time." Best Buy: " My cellphone. The ring tone is just a goofy tune. And it vibrates well in my pocket."

[daydreamingintheimpalax]

Secrets

Summary: After a particularly rough hunt, Dean shares a secret with you that changes everything. 

Prompt: I have loved you since we were 18.

Warnings: Probably just swearing TBH; Maybe slight douchbaggy ex.

--

As soon as you and the Winchesters had walked through the bunker doors, you let out a relieved sigh. It had been a rough week, you all had been hunting a werewolf that just couldn't stop moving, making it impossible to track until it finally slowed down somewhere in timbucktoo. Well, it was more like Colorado somewhere, but you know, you were never known for your georgraphy skills. 

What had made it worse, was that despite this wolf practically throwing the three of you around like rag dolls, which was getting way harder now that you weren't the spunky crisp 20 year old you once were, was the fact that you had happened to run into Randy. 

Randy had been your high school boyfriend for two years, his family were also hunters and having a boyfriend who understood your life, it was nice back then. 

You had known the Winchesters all your life, your families running in the same hunting circles, you had worked cases with them multiple times over the years until finally settling down with them now that they were the only family you had left. You had broken up with Randy when he got increasingly possesive and jealous when you turned 19 and you'd decided to  move in with Dean once Sammy had gone off to college.

Dean was alone and his dad was constantly going on hunts and leaving him behind, he was very upset when Sammy had left, so he chose to hunt on his own. Your father had left years ago, leaving you with a buddy who he called your uncle bobby, even though he wasn’t really, but choosing to live with Dean so he wouldn't be alone made it easier for him, then when you were 23, he'd been mauled on a hunt and died. Hunting with Dean after that,  became a normal routine, but Randy hated Dean, and Dean, well, he wasn't fond of Randy either. 

The mutual distaste for each other only increased the more jealous and controlling Randy got, nearly fighting with you every night when you chose to go back to the apartment you shared with Dean instead of staying with him. Eventually, when he became physical, Dean had enough and knocked him out one night after you'd come home with a bruised eye, threatening to shoot him if he ever came near you again. That was the end of that and you hadn't seen Randy since. 

Until tonight, when he happened to be tracking the same werewolf you guys had been. It became worse when he realized you were still hunting with Dean, and the memories of all those arguments and black eyes and bruises came flashing back. You managed to finish the case, but not without some bumps and bruises and having Randy there made it worse, with Dean and Randy glaring daggers at each other every time they researced. Randy still being the asshole he was despite the years you two had been broken up.

You were just glad to be home, glad to be away from that tension. You showered, cleaned off all the muck, and settled down on the little blanket you still had on the floor in the back yard area behind the bunker, you'd sit there on the warm nights, enjoying the stars while you sipped on a beer, winding down after a hunt. Tonight was no different, and you definitely needed it tonight more than ever. 

After a few minutes, you heard the familiar sound of Deans boots, planting himself next to you, his own beer in hand. 

“You okay, peanut?” His voice soft but husky, the tell sign he was exhausted. The nickname made you smile, it became his favorite thing to call you ever since you'd lived with him all those years ago, your obsession for peanut butter never understandable to him. Didn't help that your short stature against his giant frame basically made you peanut sized to him. You'd accepted it a long time ago, you were short, and Dean took great pleasure in teasing you about it.

You let out a big sigh, “Yeah, I'm good now.” You smiled, sipping from your beer bottle as you looked and examined the stars. Dean shuffled next to you, crossing his bowed legs as best he could, before sipping from his own bottle. 

“Can’t believe we ran into Randy of all the douchebags, never thought I'd see that assholes face ever again, he's still missing that tooth.” Dean chuckled, the comment making you burst out laughing so hard you nearly chocked on your beer. 

The memory brought you back to the night Dean had punched him for hitting you, knocking one of his front teeth out. The satisfaction and the look on Randys face bringing you joy. He had been frightened of Dean ever since, seeing the ghost white look on his face when he'd seen Dean tonight made you smirk, glad he'd learned his lesson back then. It was still funny, seeing him years later, he'd gained a lot of weight, his hair line had receded a lot and his tooth still missing. The image no longer matching the cocky football star from highschool.

Your laughter slowed, Dean sighing next to you as you both stared up at the sky. 

“i gotta say, I am glad he fucked off after that night, don't think I could've stopped myself from doing worse if he'd tried to bother you again.” Dean spoke, a hint of something in his voice that you couldn't quite place.

He went quiet again, you looked over at him, watching him softly as he stared at the sky, sipping from his bottle. You'd known Dean Winchester all your life, and somehow, things about him still managed to surprise you. He was a complicated person to figure out, he didn’t let many people in on his feelings or thoughts, and although you knew he trusted you with his life, you were sure there were still plenty of secrets you didn’t known about your best friend.

You hummed out, taking another sip of your beer before you spoke, “Hey Dee?” you spoke softly, his eyes meeting yours.

“Hmm?” His reply a soft hum, acknowledging he’d heard you.

“Tell me something?” you asked, wanting to know something new, something he hadn't told you yet. Something that could surprise you.

“Tell you what?” he chuckled, wondering how much beer you'd had before he'd come out here.

“A secret, something I don't know.” you looked a him, wondering how much he held in, in fear no one would care, he'd always looked after everyone all his life, you, his mother, sammy, even his dad those rare nights he came back from a hunt completely shittered.

“You know all my secrets, y/n/n, you know that.” he stated matter of factly, you shook your head, not accepting his answer. 

“No, there has to be something, something you haven't told me, or anyone, something special or secret, personal, a funny story, anything, I just need something to make this night a little better.” you looked at him, eyes big and hopeful, he bit the inside of his cheek, concentrating and thinking of a secret he'd yet to tell you, there was one, one he never planned to tell you in fear it would ruin everything you'd both built, the bond, friendship, the trust. Tonight was better than never he supposed, he knew it would come up one day, it might as well be tonight. 

You watched him concentrate, thinking of something he hadn't told you, something you didn't know, after a few minutes, he sighed. 

“I guess I have a secret I was always too scared to tell you,” he shrugged, licking his lips softly before he spoke again, “I have loved you since we were 18.“ He stated simply. No other words following. 

You stared at him for what felt like forever, he seemed slightly nervous, seemingly avoiding eye contact. He finally got the courage to look at you again, you still stared at him, shocked at his admission. 

“When you say loved....” you began, but he cut you off, “I mean full blown told everyone I would marry you one day, head over heels crazy about you, I still am y/n. It's the main reason my other relationships never worked, they were never you, never could be.” He shrugged.

To say you were shocked would be an understaement. “Wh-, why didn't you ever say anything? We've been friends for forever, we've shared a bed, and apartment, Jesus Christ Dee, you've stripped my drunk ass down to nothing and got in a cold shower with me to sober me up and you never thought to mention that little deatil?” You ranted, slightly upset he never thought to tell you something this big, it had been years, YEARS, that he’d been dragging around these feelings in secret.

He sighed, “The timing was never right, you were with Randy for a while, then when we moved in together, I didn't want to ruin it by being an idiot, I didn’t know if you felt the same about me and I was scared of losing you, of scaring you away and destroying everything we'd built, our trust, friendhship, I chickened out and figured I'd rather have you in my life and keep that part a secret than to lose you completely.” He finished, watching your face for your reaction, worried he'd ruined everything, he couldn't lose you now, not after all these years.

“Dee...” You shifted closer, he cut you off once more, “Don’t....don’t say you feel the same okay? Don't pretend or lie to make me feel better, I'm a grown man, I can handle rejection, I just figured it was time you knew, that's my secret, it's the only one I've ever carried with me and kept from you, besides the fact that I always resented that a guy like Randy was ever lucky enough to have you and threw his shot away, he was stupid enough to hurt you and not appreciate you.” he frowned, turning back to look at the stars.

You watched him, you couldn't believe he'd been right in front of your face this whole time, all the losers like Randy, the one night stands hoping you'd find your perfect guy out there somewhere, yet, he’d been with you the entire time, right by your side your whole life, and suddenly you realized it, all the times he took care of you, when you were drunk, or crying, or someone hurt you, he'd always been there, not just because he'd been your best friend, it was also because you had been his love, he'd loved you for so long, you felt stupid you hadn't realized it after all these years. Dean Winchester was your perfect guy, your soulmate. Your mother had always been right, You didn't find love, it found you, when you least expected it, and sometimes, you found it hiding in plain sight. 

you gently reached out, placing a hand on his face and pulling him back to face you, his eyes met yours and you leaned in, placing a small but deep kiss on his lips. You pulled away slightly, meeting his eyes. 

“It was always you, Dean, the guy I've been searching for all my life, the one who always made me feel special, and loved, and just, loved me, It was always you. I'm sorry it took me this long to realize he was always right beside me.” You smiled softly, his eyes lingered on yours before he smiled, leaning in to capture you in a deep kiss once again. 

“S’okay, luckily we still got some time left on this earth, we got plenty of time to make up for it.” He smiled, the moonlight enhancing the twinkle in his gorgeous Hazel green eyes. You loved this man, and now, you could finally freely admit that, and spend whatever would be left of your life as a hunter being in his arms, this time, not as his best friend, but as something more. 

[litniche]

Dani Teaches a Lesson

Damie Fic

Read it here or on ao3

Summary:            

Dani tutors in the shop some afternoons. One day a parent shows up in no condition to take his child home. Dani tells him so and it doesn't go well. (Everyone is fine in the end, don't worry).

or

Why is Jamie so sexy when she's angry?

 Notes:    

This started out as a meditation on Jamie being sexy when she's angry (problematic? Maybe.) and then it quickly became a bit more serious (I mean, it's hard to imagine Jamie being livid with Dani and it NOT being serious, so...)

Anyway, Happy Fanworks Day!

CW: violence, threats of violence, drinking/ inebriation, drunk driving, strong language

Read it here or on ao3

DANI TEACHES A LESSON

 Dani stayed stock still, arms twisted in front of her, fingers laced together as she waited for a pause, a beat.

 “You can’t just do that, Poppins!”

 The blonde’s eyes searched Jamie’s visage, lingering on the green-blue hazel of the gardener’s eyes which were wider and far more intense than usual.

 “Do you have any idea how fucking scared I was when I came out and saw you like that?”

 The sinewy muscles in Jamie’s neck were flexing and her lips were taut.

 “I thought - Christ, Poppins, I thought -”

 Even Jamie’s nose was showing her anger, scrunching in a way that Dani knew meant Jamie was really pissed, but Dani couldn’t help find attractive, even now.

 “Poppins?” Jamie asked. She huffed and rested her weight on one of her hips, leaning back and crossing her arms. Dani tried not to focus too long on her forearms or biceps. “Are you even listening to me?”

 “Of course!” Dani jumped in, shaking her thoughts away.

 “Really?” Jamie said, anger still in her voice, “because you looked like you weren’t hearing a thing I was saying.”

 “No, no,” Dani assured her. “I heard you, and I’m sorry, Jamie. Really. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

 “Worry me?” Jamie asked, incredulous. Her eyes, already fiery, widened further and somehow became even more piercing. “Poppins, you almost gave me a heart attack!”

 “Okay,” Dani said calmly. She was trying her very utmost not to pay attention to the intoxicating way that Jamie’s body was practically humming, not to let her gaze drift to a pair of pink lips.

 “Okay?”

 “Yeah. Okay. I’m sorry.”

 Jamie nodded, pursing her lips as she looked down at her boots. “Fine. Fine. Just...give me a minute, yeah?”

 Dani nodded in return and remained where she was as Jamie retreated to the back room of the flower shop.

 ***

 “She still angry?”

 “Yeah,” Dani said with a sigh.

 “I mean, it’s not really your fault from what I’ve pieced together.”

 Dani nodded at Owen on her phone’s screen as she dropped another sugar cube in her iced tea and swirled it around. “She knows, but that doesn’t change what happened or how she feels about it.”

 “What exactly did happen?”

 “One of my pupils that I’m tutoring in the shop in the afternoons had just finished a lesson with me and her dad was picking her up.”

 Owen nodded for Dani to continue.

 “Well...you know my mom had problems after my dad died with drinking, right? It means I can spot when someone’s had too much from a mile away. He was smiling and almost polite at first, but his eyes were all glassy and bloodshot, his speech was too slow…” Dani’s eyes glazed as she recalled the memory.

     “Mr. Morrison, I think Emma should stay here for a bit. You’re welcome to as well. We have a couch in the back room if you’d like to rest.”  

     “Excuse me?” the man asked as his brows drew together and his grip tightened on his daughter’s shoulder. The girl made a small sound of discomfort and wiggled away.  

     “Can I talk to you in private?” Dani said with a frown.  

     “No, you can say what you are trying to say right here.”  

     “Emma, honey, go to the back for a minute,” Dani said gently. “Jamie might have a treat for you.”  

     The girl nodded with a bright smile, knowing full well that Jamie always kept mini candy bars in the top drawer of the desk.  

     Dani waited until Emma was out of earshot. “Mr. Morrison, you’re intoxicated. I don’t think you should be driving at all, let alone with Emma.”  

 “I’m guessing he took that rather well,” Owen said darkly.

 “Not exactly,” Dani smiled, though her voice trembled.

     Mr. Morrison laughed, and the scent of alcohol wafted its way toward Dani. He leaned against the shop’s door frame as he snarled. “Listen, lady, I pay you to teach my daughter lessons, not me. I’m fine. I got here just fine and I can get us home just fine,” he said, slurring his vowels and consonants together like mud.  

     “No, you can’t,” Dani said, firm. “Emma will stay with me until you sober up or you can arrange a ride for you both; that, or I will call the police. I’d hate for you to get a DUI and for her to see that.”  

     “You bitch,” he said, voice husky and raw. He towered over her as he spoke. “You think you can keep my daughter from me?”  

     Dani felt her heartbeat pick up and she had to hold her hands in fists to prevent them from shaking as adrenaline began to course through her. “Please, just go. Come back in a few hours. I’ll watch Emma.”  

     Mr. Morrison laughed, though it was mirthless, and placed a heavy hand on Dani’s shoulder. He squeezed it menacingly. “Either I leave with my daughter, or we’re going to have a problem.”  

     “Daddy?”  

     Dani turned, concern laced in her features. Emma had come back. “Emma, honey, wait in the office for m- Mmp!” Dani held her stomach as she bent over. She really shouldn’t have been shocked that the man had hit her.  

     “Poppins, shouldn’t Emma’s dad be here alread- Dani?”  

     Mr. Morrison was distracted by Jamie’s sudden appearance for only a moment, but that moment was all that Dani needed. In one motion, she threw her knee into his groin and her elbow across his face.  

     “Fuck!” he said, cradling himself and staggering back out the front door. “What the fuck?!”  

     “Take Emma into the back room and call the police, Jamie,” Dani said, panting.  

     “Like fuck she will--”  

     “Lay one more hand on me in front of your daughter. I dare you to,” Dani said, her voice cold and dangerous.  

 “Christ, Dani,” Owen said as he ruffled his hands through his hair in a nervous gesture. “Is Emma okay?”

 “She’s with her aunt, so I think so.”

 “I assume the guy was arrested?”

 “He drove off and hit a parked car almost immediately. It wasn’t hard for the cops to find him.”

 “Jesus,” Owen said, shaking his head.

 “Yeah,” Dani said. She pulled her knees up to her chest as she sat on the chair behind the shop’s counter. “Honestly, all I can think about is how much it probably scared Jamie. She's told me what it was like growing up in the some of the shadier foster homes she stayed in. I don’t want to bring that sort of thing into her life again.”

 “You did what you thought was right. Emma needed an adult to care about her well-being in that moment and you were that person. Jamie knows you didn’t seek this out and that it wasn’t your fault.”

 Dani nodded, feeling a lump form in her throat and tears stinging her eyes.

 “Go talk to her,” Owen said softly.

 ***

     Knock knock    .

 “Hey, can I come in?” Dani asked tentatively.

 “Free country,” Jamie said from the small couch they kept under the window in the back office. She was gazing out the window as snow fell outside, silencing the noise of the street.

 Dani stepped inside and closed the door behind her softly. She opened and closed her fists at her sides in a fit of nerves. “I’m sorry,” she said yet again. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I’m sorry that it probably brought up unpleasant memories. I’m sorry that I didn’t handle it better. I’m sor--”

 “Christ, Dani, stop. I’m the one that’s sorry.”

 Dani frowned. “What?”

 “You were just doing what you thought you needed to do to protect Emma. And then, after a guy hits you, threatens you, and the cops hassle you for a report, I yell at you.”

 “It’s okay,” Dani said, approaching the couch. “I know why you were upset.”

 “No, I don’t think you do,” Jamie said, shaking her head and finally meeting Dani’s gaze as the once-au pair knelt at her feet. “I’m angry at myself, Dani. I should have come out from the back much sooner. I didn’t know tha--”

 “Hey,” Dani said soothingly, “you came out just in time. I’m the one that should have called for your help sooner.”

 Jamie shook her head. “Fucking Morrison. We’re sitting here apologizing to each other, but he’s the fucking prat. He’s lucky all you did was give him a bloody nose.”

 “Well, I don’t think other parts of him are too happy right now, either,” Dani countered.

 “Where’d you learn to do that, anyway?”

 “College self defense class at OU.”

 “Go bobcats,” Jamie laughed dryly.

 “Are we okay?”

 “Of course we’re okay,” Jamie said as her brows twitched together. She pulled Dani onto her lap and they held each other until both of them began to breathe normally again.

 “You know…” Dani began carefully, “I did learn one thing from all this.”

 Jamie hummed in question.

 “You are fucking sexy when you’re angry,” Dani whispered in slight embarrassment.

 The gardener’s body shook with silent laughter. “What the hell are you talking about?”

 “You are!” Dani sat up to look into the woman’s eyes. “Your whole body just...and your eyes!”

 “So that’s why you looked like you were in outer space earlier.”

 “Shush,” Dani said, nipping at Jamie’s lip.

 The gardener returned the nip before brushing her lip against Dani’s and deepening the kiss. Dani sighed as she relaxed into the gardener’s arms, soaking in the feeling of safety and warmth that was always there.

[clumsyclifford]

Can I have 2. 4. And 6 together in the same fic from the angst prompt list?? Lashton. I wanna feel like death when it's over if that's possible.

well anon the bad news is that i very rarely end fics without a hopeful/positive note. so i hope that whilst you may feel like death for the duration of this, you feel better by the end. that being said, HEAVY tw for referenced alcoholism in this, in large part because of the prompts. and also, if it wasn’t evident, this takes place in the emo lashton ‘verse. okay cool now you may read it

-

The empty beer can in the trash is not a good sign.

Luke pulls it out and gives it an experimental shake; it’s empty, of course. He glances around, but there aren’t any other cans in the kitchen. Ashton’s not here, at least nowhere Luke can see, and it’s strange that there’s only one beer can here; it’s been awhile since Ashton’s had anything to drink, but when he used to, he never had just one.

It’s not ideal that he’s drunk anything at all, obviously, but maybe he’s only had the one. Maybe.

Luke tosses the can again and goes in search of Ashton.

He isn’t hard to find, although what he’s doing on the bottom step of the stairs, Luke doesn’t know. Ashton’s back is slouching into one wall, the heels of his feet pressed against the opposite one, forehead resting on one bent knee. Luke frowns. 

“Hey,” he says. Ashton doesn’t even look at him.

“Hi,” he says. His voice is scratchy. Luke wonders if that’s from disuse — Luke’s been out for most of the day, had woken and left the house while Ashton had been on a run, so they haven’t seen each other yet — or something else. Crying, maybe. 

“How was your day?” Luke asks delicately. It’s obvious Ashton doesn’t want to talk, but Luke suspects — well — he’s worried, that’s all. 

Ashton shrugs half-heartedly. “‘S fine.”

Luke scrubs a hand over his face. “Okay,” he says, and figures that he needs to be honest, if Ashton’s not going to be honest first. “You started drinking again, didn’t you?” Ashton doesn’t react. “I saw the beer can in the trash.” He’s tempted to say you could have hidden it a little better, but bites it back. Surely Ashton had known, when he’d tossed it, that Luke would find it. He must have.

Then, to Luke’s surprise, Ashton shakes his head. “It’s not mine,” he says wearily. 

Luke blinks. “It’s not yours?”

Finally Ashton looks up. His eyes are red, tired. He gives Luke a look that’s somehow broken and reproachful. “Fuck you, Luke. No, it’s not mine.”

Luke jerks at his tone. “Hey, what the hell?”

“It’s not fucking mine,” Ashton repeats. “I had a friend over, he had a beer, he threw it out. I don’t fucking drink anymore.”

Luke flounders. He knows Ashton’s trying not to drink anymore, but people say that and slip. And Luke can’t say that to Ashton, because he doesn’t want to hurt Ashton’s feelings, to make Ashton think that Luke thinks that he could slip.

But it’s the truth, is the thing. Ashton’s strong, but he’s not invulnerable. 

(And it wouldn’t be the first time.)

“Okay, shit,” Luke says defensively. “Sorry. You can’t blame me for —”

“Assuming I’d take it back up?” Ashton glares. “How long have I been sober, Luke? If I was going to backslide, don’t you think I’d have done it already?”

“That’s not fucking fair and you know it. People backslide for all kinds of reasons. Just because you haven’t doesn’t mean you won’t.”

Ashton staggers to his feet. Luke wonders what the fuck is going on, what step he’s skipped. They’re not in sync, and it’s making Luke feel untethered, grasping at air, for a handhold, a foothold, anything to keep him from falling into the abyss. He holds onto Ashton, always, except Ashton’s not there to hold onto anymore, and Luke is reaching for nothing. 

“Fuck you,” Ashton says again. It digs into Luke’s skin, burrows under his chest. He bristles as Ashton makes to step past him.

“What the fuck did I do?” he says angrily. “You can’t be fucking mad at me for worrying.”

“You’re not worrying, you’re hovering,” Ashton snaps, shouldering Luke aside and heading towards his room. Luke grabs his arm.

“Stop being such an asshole,” Luke says fiercely. “Jesus Christ, can we talk like adults? Can you be mature?”

“Can you fucking trust me?” Ashton retorts.

“Can you not talk to me like I’m attacking you?”

Ashton stares at him, opens his mouth and closes it. He stares more, and Luke stares back, refusing to budge. He’s not in the wrong here, or if he is, Ashton can be a fucking grown-up and explain what he’s done. 

“Let go of me, please,” Ashton finally says, more calmly than anything else he’s said since Luke got home. Luke immediately releases his grip on Ashton.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re so irritable?” Luke asks evenly. “I actually do love you, you know. I want to help.”

Ashton finally slumps his shoulders and turns his back, heading for the kitchen. It’s not as sharp as before, so Luke follows after him. He leans against the counter while Ashton gets himself a glass of water, drinks the whole thing, and puts the glass in the sink.

“I hate that you don’t trust me,” he finally mutters. “But it’s my fault, right?” Luke bites his lip, silent. Ashton breathes out loudly. “Yeah. It’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Don’t lie, Luke, it’s unbecoming. Of course it’s my fucking fault.” Ashton sinks his head into his hands and links his fingers around the back of his neck. When he talks, his voice is faraway. “Because I backslid before. I’ve already tried and failed. But Jesus, I wish you trusted me with this.”

“I trust you.”

“Stop lying.”

“I’m not fucking lying.”

“You are, you’re lying to me again. Why can’t you just tell me the truth for once?” Ashton says bitterly. “I’m not going to break down if you tell me you don’t trust me to stay sober. I haven’t fucking earned it.”

“I’m not lying, Ashton, I do trust you,” Luke says firmly. “The evidence was stacked against you, what the fuck else was I supposed to think?” He waits, but Ashton says nothing. “It doesn’t mean I don’t trust you. And when you tell me it’s not yours, I believe you. If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t leave you alone for long periods of time. If I didn’t trust you, we wouldn’t keep alcohol in the house. Of course I trust you, Ashton.”

Ashton huffs, disbelieving. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t.”

Luke drags his bottom lip between his teeth. “You haven’t given me a reason not to,” he says. And then, hesitantly, “Are you okay? You’re being really hard on yourself.”

Ashton leans further forward until his forehead hits the counter, and then he straightens up. “This fucking sucks,” he declares, with an unhappy grimace. “And that’s a dumb question, because obviously I’m not okay. I don’t deserve your patience. Fuck. I’m the worst.”

“Hey, what?”

“This is hard,” Ashton says. A clear note of misery rings out in his voice. “I mean it’s always hard, but lately it’s been easier a lot of the time, but it was hard today. Being sober is hard.”

Luke inclines his head. “But you’re doing it,” he says encouragingly. “I’m proud of you for it.”

Ashton makes a frustrated noise. “I know, but at what fucking cost? I’m exhausted, I’m miserable, I could use a drink, but I can’t have one without having three, and I can’t even trust myself, so I don’t know why I would bother expecting you to trust me. I feel like I’m always fighting with myself. And now I’m fighting with you, too.”

“We’re not fighting.”

“That’s even worse,” Ashton grinds out. “I can feel myself being mean to you, and I can’t stop doing it. You’re being patient and mature and kind and I’m fucking being a piece of shit.” If Luke reaches out, Ashton might throw him off, so he shoves his hands in his pockets. Ashton breathes out heavily. “I’m sorry, Luke. I think I should go to bed.”

There’s not a lot Luke can say, because Ashton’s not wrong; he’s being bitchy for no reason, and Luke suspects that he’s just tired, so sleep is the best solution. But Luke wants to give some reassurance, and he can’t come up with the words. It’s okay, he’d like to say, but it’s not, but it also is; with Ashton it’s okay, always okay even when it’s not, because it’s Ashton. I forgive you, he’d like to say, but Ashton will just reject it out of hand, and Luke doesn’t have the energy to argue why Ashton’s wrong, why Ashton deserves forgiveness for being an asshole. Everyone’s an asshole sometimes.

“Alone?” Luke says quietly.

Ashton closes his eyes. “You can’t possibly want to join me.” But that’s not a yes. It’s not even a rejection.

“I sleep better with you,” Luke tells him, careful, unsure of which lines he can cross, where he can bare his soul without Ashton taking a swing at it. 

Ashton sighs. “Yeah, I sleep better with you, but I’m —”

“You can’t be mean if you’re asleep.” Luke tilts his head. “Unless you kick me or steal the covers or something.”

Ashton cracks a wry smile, and immediately shakes his head. “One day,” he says, “you’re going to leave me. You’ll realize how much of a piece of shit I really am, and you’ll just pack up and go.”

Luke sincerely doubts it. “Not if you leave me first,” he says. Feeling safe again, he puts a hand on Ashton’s shoulder and squeezes. “I’m tired, anyway. Bedtime.”

Ashton nods, tilting his head against Luke’s hand. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, which is true but not for the reasons Ashton thinks; Ashton deserves more, more than just Luke, more than Luke can give.

“Doesn’t matter,” Luke says. “You’ve got me anyway.”

Ashton exhales gently. “You’ve got me, too, you know.”

“I know,” Luke says, brushing the hair out of Ashton’s face. “I know I do.”

[seguinshands]

150 Faces

Pairing: Jamie Benn x Reader

Word Count: 1470

Warnings: Swearing, drunkenness, creepy dude makes an innuendo

Summary: The reader would do anything to spend more time with Jamie, her friend of two years who she had slowly fallen head over heels for. Even going to one of his “get togethers”.

Reader's POV

The house was packed. Jamie had promised no more than 50 people, and I had just barely, begrudgingly, agreed to come.

You can remember 150 faces. Even if I was calm enough to remember all 150, there still probably would’ve been at least twice that number. As it was, my vision was spinning without any alcohol. People kept bumping into me. I’d been there for 20 minutes, and I hadn’t yet seen Jamie.

Seeing Jamie could make my whole day better. That was the entire reason I’d even accepted his invitation. The dumb hopeful look on his stupid handsome face. Now, even with the prospect of seeing Jamie, I would rather be anywhere but right here.

In the crowd, I was the only one who was dressed somewhat modestly. Skinny jeans, a pretty blue off the shoulder top that was my favorite, my black boots that didn’t quite meet the knee. I would’ve fit in at a smaller gathering, one that reflected the type of person I thought Jamie was. The Jamie that I had been looking to impress. But every girl here was wearing crop top (or bras, I’m not sure I could tell the difference at this point) and shorts that barely covered everything. I felt horribly, terribly out of place.

There was a holler and then a cluster of yelling from my left, and I realized that some lanky dude was doing a keg stand. Does Jamie really know all of these people?

It was just so loud. There was a pounding bass and, just barely there, the line of rap. I couldn’t even make out what they were saying, something that I usually was able to do without a second thought. There were people screaming conversations at each other just to be heard. And my eyes felt like they were being assaulted by the flashes of bright light from phone cameras and the couples making out against every available surface.

All at once, everybody calmed down. Just a little bit. Raising my eyes to follow the gaze of the girl next to me, I blinked in surprise. There was Jamie, in all of his glory, clearly drunk off his ass judging from the way he was swaying on top of the counter. “Listen up!” he was yelling, breaking off to laugh before realizing, a full three seconds later, that everyone actually listening. “I have something really important to say.” He cleared his throat importantly. “I hate all of ya’ll! That’s it. That’s my announcement.” A group of guys behind him burst into cackles. His eyes flicked over the crowd, grinning widely. “Except for you, sweetcheeks.” He pointed crookedly to a chick in 5 inch hot pink heels and a mini skirt. “You could get it any day of the we-Holy shit!” Losing his balance, he toppled backward into his cronies. I took a step forward, face folding in concern, but all of them were laughing heartily.

Something came crashing into me and I yelped, nearly falling on my ass. Hands fastened around my forearms, yanking me upright painfully. “Woah, hey there, pretty girl.” The guy above me was tall, taller than Jamie (I wish I would stop comparing guys to Jamie), and even in the dark of the room, his hair was bright orange. His dark scanned me appreciatively, but it only serves to rub me the wrong way. His grip tightened on my forearms, and I squirmed. “You would look better with those hoop earrings, hair up.” He grinned, leaning closer. “And clothes on my floor.”

My stomach churned. “Not interested,” I said quickly, pushing away and trying to remember where the bathroom was, stumbling through the faceless people. Tears were pressing at my eyelashes, and I couldn't seem to recall where the front door was, either. I needed to get out. I needed to get out.

Finally finding my way to the bathroom, I shut and locked myself in. Taking deep breaths, I closed my eyes, trying to ground myself as I sank to the floor. The headache that I hadn’t realized I had pounded in time with the muffled beat. Swallowing down my panic, I pressed my hands into the carpet, reveling in the way it dug into my palms. It wouldn’t be long until somebody else needed this bathroom, but if I let myself dwell on that, I would never calm down enough to leave.

Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I stood and took a look at myself in the mirror. Somehow, by some miracle, my mascara had only run the slightest bit. I washed my hands once, twice. I still felt like shit. Striding over to the window, I threw it open. The cool breeze was undoubtedly a relief, but the rush of sound that it brought with it was unwelcome. There were somehow still more people outside. Overwhelmed again, I sat on the floor, back against the glass wall of the shower. Realistically, I knew that I couldn’t stay in there forever, but I wasn’t thinking realistically. I was thinking abstractly, wildly, not straight. Crazy.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was sending a message to Jamie. -I thought you said no more than 50 people?-

His response was surprisingly swift. -you here? where?- No apology, no welcome banner, not even an excuse. I stared at the three words on the screen for a long time before sliding my phone away from me, knowing it would just make me feel even worse. My stomach had just calmed down, my heart had just stopped pounding in my ears, my brain had finally become less frazzled. I didn’t need to read into a three word text like a teenage girl.

Shutting out the evidence of the corrupt, awful party surrounding me, I lay on my side and curled into a ball, trying to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. As time went on, I felt myself slipping away.

Panic jolted me awake as the door buckled under the force of somebody pounding at it. “Who's in there? Open up, goddammit!” I was so disoriented that it took me a full minute to realize who it was. Jamie.

My eyes flicked to the window and widened as I scrambled to my feet. The morning was climbing in the sky. Oh, God, I had passed out on the bathroom floor. How pathetic.

My thoughts were promptly interrupted by the sound of a key turning in a lock. Adrenaline rushed through me, like I had done something wrong.

The door slammed open and I squeaked, backing up to the wall.

Jamie stared at me, gaping, hair askew and shoulders slumped. “Y/N, what… You never… What're you doing here?”

Pushing down the emotions trying to rise up, I swallowed. “Just leaving. Don't worry yourself.”

As I brushed past him, however, Jamie reached out and snagged my arm. “Hey, whoa, what's wrong? I didn't mean anything by that, I just meant that you don't seem like yourself.” I wasn't allowing myself to look up at him.

“Nothing is the matter.” I cleared my throat. “Jamie, let go. That hurts.” He must've known that his grip wasn't strong enough to cause any damage, but he still released me quickly.

Turning on my heel, I made for the stairs. I was praying that Jamie wouldn't follow, but after a beat, his footsteps trailed after mine. “Wait, I know something is wrong. Please just tell me. I know that you were expecting less people and m sorry. Please tell me what I did wrong so that I can fix it.” There was a whine in his voice that peeved me beyond belief.

Taking a deep breath, I shot back, “Nothing, sweetcheeks.”

This time, Jamie stood smack dab between me and the door. “Wait a second.” His hands reached for mine and I yanked them free. “No, wait. Y/N, c'mon. Talk to me.”

“Move, Jamie.”

“Were you jealous?”

“Were you sober?”

I finally raised my eyes to glare into his. “We should talk about this,” he stated, taking a step closer.

Pressing my lips together, I dodged away from him, starting towards the door again, trying so hard not to cry.

“Jesus fucking Christ, stop leaving!” Jamie's hands fastened around my arms and pulled me toward him so quickly that when his lips landed on mine, I went slack from shock.

It took until he was pulling away, regret on his face, for me to realize what happened. He opened his mouth to deliver some grand apology, no doubt. Gathering all of my courage, I grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him down to me, kissing him again.

By the time we broke apart, we were both out of breath. After a moment, Jamie giggled. “You were so totally jealous.”

[carryonsimoncarryonbaz]

11, please!

11: Which one of your OTP overdoes it on the alcohol and which one makes the other stop drinking?

1.

Baz

I believe Simon is now on a first-name basis with every denizen of this pub.

I’m also fairly certain every one of them has offered to buy him a drink. I’m absolutely positive he has taken far too many of them up on that offer.

Endless grin, disheveled hair, flushed face. Simon Snow is completely sozzled.

“Baz!”

“Yes, Snow?”

“Baz!”

“I’m right here, Snow.”

Snow wobbles onto the barstool next to me and sets his most recent refill of ale on the table so heavily that some of it sloshes out of the glass and onto the tabletop. He blinks at it regretfully, takes a long pull of the remaining ale and then turns to regard me again.

“Baz!”

Crowley, here we go again.

“Baz, Liverpool won!”

“Yes, Snow. So you’ve mentioned.”

He frowns and leans towards to me, gently swaying. “You called me Simon before.” He leans even closer to me, his scrunched nose almost touching mine.

Snow’s understanding of personal space is precarious even when he’s sober. It’s basically nonexistent when he’s drunk. I don’t mind that one bit. He’s now draped over me, chin resting on my shoulder, lips brushing my ear.

He raises his voice even louder than before. “Baz!”

Snow also loses all sense of volume control when he drinks. He’s literally a breath away from me but still feels the need to bellow.

“Baz!”

“Yes, Simon.”

“They’re all Liverpool fans. Every one of them.” He leans back to wave his glass genially at the other tables, managing to spill more of his drink as he does so.

This is not necessarily a bad thing. Less in the glass means less in Simon. He’s going to have a dreadful hangover tomorrow if I don’t cut him off soon.

He’s still chattering. Snow becomes far more talkative when he’s drinking, his words flowing freely, if somewhat repetitively.

“Baz!”

My point exactly.

“Baz, how’d you find this place? How’d you find a pub full of Liverpool fans, a pub showing the game, in fucking Chicago? I didn’t even know there’d be Liverpool fans here.”

Snow goes on about this remarkable example of globalization for quite some time.

We’ve been in town for a few days, visiting Bunce and her boyfriend. They had some family affair today, so Simon and I had some time to ourselves.

I had considered spending that time in the warm, luxurious privacy of our hotel room but Simon was up with the sun, as usual, and ready to explore more. As if Bunce hadn’t dragged us all over this freezing, windblown city already.

The wind here is ghastly. It almost made me regret not buying that ridiculous puffy coat Simon insisted I needed for this trip. Almost.

I couldn’t face walking along that frigid lakeshore today. It’s snowing. In April. It’s appalling. I truly don’t know how Bunce tolerates it.

I had done some investigating ahead of time. I know how Simon is about Liverpool this late in the season.

Simon would call it plotting but I prefer to call it research. It was easy enough to discover which pub was a favorite among expat Liverpool fans.  This one opened at seven this morning to televise the match live. We’ve been here since before nine.

It’s not even noon and Simon is completely inebriated. He’s still talking but I’ve lost the gist of this very one-sided conversation. He’s crossed his arms on the table, one elbow in the puddle of beer he spilled earlier, and his head is resting on his arms. Eyes half-closed, face still flushed, errant curls spilling onto his forehead. 

He takes my breath away.

I push the curls off his face, my fingers lingering to stroke through his hair. Simon closes his eyes and smiles.

“Baz.” Thank magic, he’s at the point of mumbling now rather than shouting.

“Yes, Simon.”

“Like it when you do that.”

“When I do what, love?”

“Mess with my hair.”

I keep my fingers running through his curls. I never want to stop.

“Baz.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. This was ace.”

“You’re welcome, love.”

Simon’s eyes stay closed.

I pull my phone from my pocket and tap on the app for a car service to take us back to the hotel. Simon’s in no state to navigate public transportation and it’s too fucking cold for me to even consider it.

Looks like we’ll be getting that afternoon in the hotel room after all. Maybe Simon will have slept it off by the time we meet Bunce and Micah for dinner.

I run my fingers through his hair one more time.

“Come on, love. Time to go.”

Simon blinks up at me and sways as he gets to his feet. I reach for his hand but he just leans into me instead, arms wrapping around my waist. I slide an arm around him to steady him.

He’s asleep on my shoulder by the time the car pulls away from the curb.

2.

Simon

I’ve wiped down the kitchen counters. Washed all the dishes that were piled up in the sink. Folded and put away my clean laundry. I suppose I could sweep too but I don’t feel like it.

It might seem like I’m making a go of cleaning the flat but I’m moping. Actively moping.

Penny huffs at me from the sofa. “Just text him, Simon.”

“He said he wanted to be alone today. I’m respecting that, Penny.”

She rolls her eyes at me and goes back to her book.

I’ve wanted to text Baz since I woke up.

It’s August 12th.

Before this year I hadn’t really understood the significance of this date for Baz. I mean, I knew his mum had been killed and all, but I didn’t know the date or the details of it all.

Or who had orchestrated it.

Baz was home with his family every previous August and I was always languishing in some miserable care home, desperately waiting to be released to go to Watford. We were never in the same place.

But this year we’re both in London. He didn’t go home for it—he’d have been alone if he had anyway—the Grimms are visiting Daphne’s parents in the south of France for a few weeks. Baz was invited to accompany them—I was too—but he hadn’t wanted to be with Daphne’s family for this.

Understandably.

I’m not sure what I was expecting for today. I guess I wasn’t expecting he wouldn’t want to be with me either.

But I can understand that. It’s the first anniversary of her death where he actually knows what happened, knows she was murdered.

And knows who gave the order to do it.

Which is probably why he doesn’t want me around. I may not be the Mage’s Heir anymore but he was still my mentor for all those years. (actually, it seems I am the Mage’s heir, according to his lawyers) (They’re still trying to sort that out) (I’m not sure what it all means.)

Baz doesn’t sleep over at my place every night. With Fiona gone we’ve actually been spending some nights at his place. He’s got a nicer television.

Fiona’s an absolute terror when she’s home. She bangs on the bedroom wall and yells even if we’re just watching a movie in bed. Thinks she’s funny, she does. Makes me practically jump out of my skin, even when I’m not snogging Baz. That’s why we avoid his place most of the time. He’s been sleeping over here more often than not, now in the summer, since we don’t have classes.

But he didn’t sleep over last night.

He wanted to stay at home today, be on his own, is what he’d said. I thought he’d stay over and leave this morning but he’d gotten quiet when I mentioned it last night.

“You don’t have to stay,” I’d said. I didn’t want to press him on it. “It’s alright it you don’t want to.”

Baz had frowned at me. “It’s not that I don’t want to, Simon. I’d just rather be on my own tomorrow and I’ll likely not be good company. I should just go tonight, so I’m not a frightful grump at you in the morning.”

“You’re always a grump in the morning.” That had gotten him to indignantly deny it, but with a hint of a smile on his face. Baz did end up leaving soon after. Said he’d text me when he was ready to talk. I’d promised myself not to pester him.

It wasn’t even half-past ten and I already wanted to pester him.

Penny finally groans and tosses her book aside about an hour later. “Simon, I can’t take one more minute of you brooding. It’s one day. Surely you can survive one day without seeing Baz?”

I shrug.

I get a huff and an eye-roll this time. “Come on. Let’s go. We’re going out.” Penny shoves my shoulder and I shuffle out the door after her.

Penny knows me so well. She takes me to Borough Market, which is at least some distraction. Until I’m done eating, that is.

“Will you stop checking your phone? It will vibrate if he texts you, Simon. You know this.” Penny bats my hand and I shove my phone in my pocket before I drop it.

We wander down to Southwark Cathedral and then end up near the Bridge.

“He just wants some time alone today, Simon. It makes sense.” Penny pushes her glasses up and frowns at me. “I’m sure he’ll call or text you later tonight.”

“I know. I just hate the thought of him being alone. It’s the first year he knows what really happened… who really planned it …”

She doesn’t let me finish. “Simon. You can’t take on the guilt for that. The Mage made his own decisions and is the only one responsible for his actions.” Her finger pokes my chest. “It’s nothing to do with you.”

We’re almost to the station when I feel my phone vibrate. I yank it out of my pocket eagerly.

It isn’t Baz.

It’s Fiona, of all people.

FIONA: Are you with Baz?

ME: No. Why?

FIONA: Where the fuck is he?

ME: At his place. Why are you texting me?

FIONA: Why the fuck aren’t you with him? Don’t you know what today is?

ME: He said he wanted to be alone.

FIONA: AND YOU JUST LET HIM BE ALONE? Merlin and Morgana, Snow, I can’t believe I actually gave you credit for not being as thick as you look.

ME: Why are you texting me?

FIONA: Because Baz isn’t answering my calls or texts, you fucking nightmare. I thought for sure you’d be with him, so I thought I’d text you to tell him to FUCKING ANSWER ME.

ME: Oh.

FIONA: How’d he get you to shove off for the day? Aren’t you usually glued to his hip?

I frown at my phone. Fiona is an acquired taste. I haven’t quite acquired it yet. Baz says most people don’t ever manage to.

ME: He asked me to.

FIONA: Jesus Christ, Snow, you are an absolute pillock.

Fiona likes to swear like a normal. More so when she’s really pissed off.

FIONA: Do you have a key to his place?

I do actually but I’m not sure I want to tell her that. It’s her place too.

FIONA: Don’t you fucking stop answering, Snow. Are you going to answer my question? DO YOU HAVE A BLOODY KEY OR NOT?

ME: Yes.

FIONA: Yes, you have a key? This isn’t fucking twenty questions, Snow.

ME: Yes, I have a key.

FIONA: Get your arse over there and see what’s going on. I’ve been texting and calling him for the last hour and he’s not answering, the bloody wanker. And for the love of Merlin have him text me when you get over there.

ME: All right. I’ll head over there now.

FIONA: If one of you doesn’t text me in the next hour, Snow, I will literally set you on fire when I see you next.

ME: Ok, ok.

Lucky for me I’ve got my key fob in my pocket. “Penny, I’ve got to go to Baz’s.”

“Was that him then?” Penny looks puzzled. “You usually get this soft, sappy look when you text Baz. You looked more like you were going to throw up this time.”

“No, it was Fiona. She’s been texting him but he’s not answering. She’s blustering but I can tell she’s worried. I need to get over there.”

“Shall I come with you?”

“No, better not. Not sure what kind of mood he’ll be in when I get there. Better if I go alone. I’ll text if I need anything.”

“All right, Simon. Text me if you need backup.”

Baz is in a mood alright. A drunk mood. I’ve only seen him that way one other time. Fifth year in the Catacombs.

I’d burst into the flat, not sure what I would find.

What I found was Baz, bottle in hand, leaning against the living room sofa. His hair is tangled, falling into his face. He looks even paler than usual. The wanker must not have fed last night. No wonder he’s completely pissed.

Baz is a lightweight under normal circumstances—even one glass of red wine gets him completely legless if he hasn’t fed. I can’t imagine what this bottle of single malt has reduced him to.

Well I can. He’s a morose, incoherent mess. I’ve never heard him slur his words like this, not even back in fifth year.

“Baz. It’s me, Baz. Look at me. There you go.” I pull his face up and sweep his hair back. His pupils are huge, his grey eyes flat and lifeless.

“Shnow.” My name is garbled, Baz’s lips barely moving. The bottle in his hand waves erratically.

“Baz, give me the bottle now, alright?” I have to pry his fingers off the neck, managing to spill a little as I wrestle it away from him. At least it’s not empty. I’ve no idea how full it was when he started but there’s less than a third left now. I move to put it on the table across the room.

Baz makes a reaching motion when I move away. I’m back at his side immediately. I put my hands on his shoulders and lean close. “I’m going to get you a glass of water, ok? Don’t move, just stay here ‘til I get back, yeah?”

I fill a glass with water from the tap. I can feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. Fuck. It’s probably Fiona again. She can wait a minute.

I drop down on the floor next to Baz and he leans into me heavily. “Here you go, let’s have a little bit of water now.” I hold the glass to his lips and manage to get Baz to take a few sips.

I’m thoroughly regretting not letting Penny come with me. She’d be able to hit him with a spell or two to bring him round. I’m no help to him at all.

I coax the water in him, little by little. He slumps against me, head on my shoulder. I wrap an arm around him. “I’ve got you, love.”

His head unexpectedly comes up at my words and bangs into my chin. He shakes his head and I rub my chin. That stung.

“You’ve never called me that.” His voice is clearer. His focus is off but there’s an intensity to his gaze that wasn’t there a few moments ago. “You’ve never called me ‘love’ before.”

He’s right. I haven’t. That’s what he calls me. I adore it when he does. It makes me feel cherished and special and his.

I’m not as comfortable with endearments. Afraid I’ll sound like a right plonker, I guess. They just don’t come naturally to me, usually. But it did this time, just slipped right out. Didn’t even notice I’d said it.

I lean in and kiss Baz’s forehead. He smells like a distillery. I smooth his hair back and trace his cheekbone with my thumb. “Well there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there, love?”

Baz smiles and closes his eyes, his head dropping back on my shoulder. “I like it,” he mumbles. “Like it when you say that, Simon.”

“You should have called me, Baz. I hate the thought that you were sitting here all alone. I would have come.”

My phone is buzzing again and I continue to ignore it. Fiona is going to light me on fire but I don’t care. He’s ok and that’s all that matters. I’ll get to her later.

“Didn’t want to get all maudlin on you.”

“You know that wouldn’t matter to me.”

I can feel Baz’s breath on my neck. He’s tilted his head back, half on my shoulder and half resting against the sofa cushions. I tighten my arm around him. “You can be any way you want around me, Baz.”

“She’s not coming back.”

I don’t know what to say to that. It’s stark and true but not something he hasn’t known for awhile now. So I don’t say anything.

“She came through the Veil to find me. She couldn’t find me, Simon. She couldn’t find me because I wasn’t there. She came through for me—she didn’t go looking for my father or Fiona. Me. And I wasn’t there.”

I feel a chill wash over me that’s almost as frigid as it was the night Natasha Pitch appeared in our room. Of course he wasn’t there. He wasn’t there because the fucking Mage had him kidnapped.

All she found was me. The Mage’s Heir. Wasn’t that fucked up, when you stop to think about it?

“She’s not coming back, Simon.” I still don’t know what to say to him.

“She’s got no reason to, now. We figured it out. She’s been avenged. There’s no reason to come back next time.”

Oh shit. Fuck.I hadn’t thought of that. No wonder he’s a fucking mess. He probably hadn’t thought about that either.

We solved her murder. We avenged her death. She’s got no reason to linger anymore, no reason to come back through the Veil next time.

Fuck.

I’ve had some seriously conflicted emotions about the Mage, this past year. Part of me hates him for leaving me in the homes all those times, for lying to me about being the Chosen One, despises him for using me and manipulating me like that. For almost bringing the magickal world to the brink of war. For letting think I had to fight Baz to end it.

Part of me is grateful he found me and brought me to Watford, to the World of Mages. Without the Mage I wouldn’t have Penny, or Baz or Agatha, or any of the things that made my life better the last eight years.

My therapist says it’s normal to feel conflicted.

But I’m not conflicted now. I can be grateful that he found me and brought me to Watford and I can wholeheartedly hate him forever for what he’s done to Baz. And I do. I hate him for murdering Baz’s mum, hate him for causing Baz to be turned. I can’t forgive him for any of that.

But it truly enrages me that he took Baz’s one chance to see his mother again away from him. Because that’s what it was—his one chance. Natasha Pitch has no reason to come back next time the Veil lifts. And my heart breaks for Baz right now.

He’s realized that too.

I get him another glass of water and eventually manage to shuffle him down the hall and into bed. I tuck him under the duvet and watch him fall asleep.

I finally extract my phone and see the torrent of enraged texts from Fiona.

I tap out a response to her and then text Penny that I’ll be spending the night here. And then I turn my phone off and watch Baz until I fall asleep. 

[dragonagethistle]

Holy Shit - Chapter 6

It’s been literally months. I’m too ashamed to go look up when my last update was. I am so sorry. Thank you for sticking around!

Start from Ch 1 here

Read on AO3 here

The screeching of my car-alarm ringtone only served to make me squeeze my eyes shut tighter and shove my head under my pillow. I immediately regretted touching my house warming whisky the previous night. My mouth was full of cotton and my head positively pulsed at the temples. But I couldn't call out of work - not so soon after starting a new job. A job I needed to keep if I wanted to continue living here.

“Fucking fuck,” I grumbled as I reached out of bed to hit snooze. I was never a morning person, but occasionally cursing at the general concept of waking made me feel better.

For once though, I decided not to push the limits of how long I could stay in bed. A hangover could only be cured by greasy breakfast food and some form of potatoes and I knew I'd have to leave my place at least 15 minutes earlier than usual to swing by the McDonald's on my drive to work.

I picked my phone up off the floor, sat up straight, and turned off both my main and backup alarms. Having those continue to go off would only make me more grumpy than I already was in the mornings. My shoulders and neck were already stiff - evidently I had slept in a weird position last night, so I did my best to stretch them out as I got out of bed and made my way across the hall to my bathroom.

I froze as soon as I flipped the light on. My shower curtain was pulled to the side, revealing the wall of tile surrounding my shower. I always pulled the curtain closed when I was done. Why was it not…

“Jesus fucking Christ, Cullen!”

The door to my guest room was suddenly yanked open and seconds later Cullen appeared in the doorway to my bathroom, eyes wide and hair a mess of curls.

“What happened? Is everything alright?”

I must have resembled a fish the way my mouth hung open as I stared.

“Farrada?”

“You're real.”

“Yes?”

“I didn't dream you.”

Cullen relaxed visibly and chuckled at that. It was a rich, deep sound that positively made me shudder. “Does that happen often?”

“I - wait, no, but…” I suddenly became hyper aware that I wasn't wearing a bra and crossed my arms over my chest. But then I took another look at the man standing in front of me and noticed something that had at first escaped my sleep-addled mind.

“Cullen? You, ah… you're not wearing any pants.”

Cullen's expression turned again to one of shock as he looked down and realized I was right. He was clad only in a pair of black boxer briefs, and as hesitant as I was about the stranger in my home I suddenly wanted to run my hands over every inch of him. I settled for biting my lip, and a sudden pounding in my head reminded me of my hangover.

Cullen blushed and his hand flew to the back of his neck as mine flew to cover my face, blocking out the light along with the tempting figure in front of me.

“Maker's Breath, I didn't realize, I just heard you shout and… Farrada?” I felt a pang in my chest at the concern in his voice.

“Just a hangover, I'll be fine,” I tried my best to sound convincing as I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes. “I need to get ready for work, and you should probably put on some clothes.”

“Right… I'll get right to that,” he replied.

As soon as I heard the door shut behind him I stepped back into the bathroom, turned on the cold water in my sink, and splashed it on my face. I always hated the sensation of water on my face but after seeing Cullen like… that, I could practically feel my cheeks burning. Cullen being here only complicated my morning. I had to get myself ready for work and make sure he had something to eat - that he would be ok alone in a completely alien world until I could get back. I glanced at my reflection, grimacing at the dark circles around my eyes. I shouldn’t have stayed up so late. But then I look further down and notice the light bruising on my neck from Cullen’s fingerprints.

“Fuck…” I brushed my fingertips along the marks, glad for the lack of pain at the touch. The bruises were light, but against my pale skin they were still noticeable.

I rushed through my morning routine, brushing my teeth and throwing my hair into a loose bun at the base of my neck just to get it out of the way. I took the simplest course of action to make sure Cullen would be fed: I threw some bread into my toaster and let that go while I changed. I hadn’t been at my new office for a full week yet, so I was trying to keep my tattoos hidden while my coworkers warmed up to me. Some opaque tights concealed the marks on my legs that would have otherwise been visible from beneath my black pencil skirt and my favorite, red sweater covered my video game sleeve. I used my white scarf decorated in foxes to hide the bruises on my neck and decided to call it good enough.

Cullen was silent through all of this. I barely heard a scuffle from the guest room as I slipped on my rings and my opal necklace. As if he had been waiting on me, the door to his room opened soon after mine. He kept his eyes down, a blush still on his face that I would have enjoyed had I more time. Instead I rushed back into my kitchen and grabbed my peanut butter and honey mix to make him a sandwich.

“I know you’re confused - I know this world is completely alien to you,” I called out to him as I spread the peanut butter over the freshly toasted bread, trying not to drool at the smell as it melted against the hot surface. “But I absolutely have to go to work, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll try to explain things tonight, and I’ll try to come back here on my lunch break to make sure you get food.”

“I am not a child,” Cullen responded, only slightly indignant. I hadn’t heard him approach the kitchen and nearly jumped when his voice sounded closer to me than I expected. “I am, in fact, capable of looking after myself.”

I sighed heavily. I knew this was nowhere near easy for him, but why the fuck did this have to happen on a work day? “In Thedas. You could look after yourself in Thedas,” I handed him the plate with his breakfast, and the hunger in his eyes betrayed him.

“Modern day earth is quite a bit different. Just… Let me get you caught up and you’ll be good to go. For now, I’m gonna worry. It’s what I do.” I pulled out my cell phone and checked the time - 7 minutes until I needed to be out the door.

“I’m sorry about the breakfast, I could do better if I had more time but I really need to go. Will you be ok?”

Cullen’s expression softened at my concern and he nodded. His brows furrowed as he noticed the scarf covering my neck. “I didn’t mean… are you alright?”

I moved the fabric enough that he could see the marks and flashed a smile. “This? This is nothing. I have worse than this from moving boxes.”

The crease in his brow remained. “When will you be back?”

I pointed to the display on my microwave, thankful I had already set up the clock. “I take lunch at 12 o’clock. I’ll be here a little after that and I’ll be done with work at 5. I normally get home by 5:20, ok?” God, I hope he gets this whole ‘time’ concept. Thedas doesn��t have clocks, does it?

Cullen simply nodded silently and bit into his peanut butter and honey sandwich. I felt a twist in my gut as I slipped on my flats and grabbed my purse. What if he’s not here when I get back? I tried to ignore the thought and instead pointed out my bookshelf for him.

“Feel free to browse through those or something while I’m gone. The top three shelves are all completely fictional but the second shelf from the bottom is my collection of history books, if you can call it that. I’ll be back.”

Cullen smiled at me, his scar jerking up with his lips. “I’ll be here.”

And with my heart in my throat, I left.

25 minutes later I walked into my building with my purse slung over one shoulder, McDonald’s bag and coke in one hand with my badge in the other. I had already finished my hash brown and between the crispy potatoes and sips of coke I had consumed on the drive, I was feeling better. Not perfect, but better. Between my terrible habit of speeding and a stroke of luck on the morning traffic, I had ten minutes to enjoy the rest of my breakfast before I had to log onto the phones.

Ten minutes alone with my thoughts.

Last night was a haze to me. I remembered unpacking after work but my shoulders gave out on me from the effort I had exerted throughout the week and so I had decided to take a break and drink instead. After all, one of my best friends from back home had sent me off with a bottle of her favorite whiskey. I remembered calling her once I got tipsy, laughing at nothing and catching her up on everything until she told me I needed to sober up. I made a cup of tea and then…

Cullen. I rested my forehead in one hand as I continued eating my breakfast.

Jesus Christ, Cullen is in my flat. What the actual fuck.

I tried to concentrate, but between the whiskey I had drunk before he arrived and the faint fuzz still clouding my head as the caffeine kicked in, nothing was definite. Nothing but the ache around my throat and a memory…

Cullen, hair dripping wet, covered in nothing but a towel and in my living room. My face felt hot as the memory suddenly hit me. That and the sight of him in nothing but those boxers this morning, even if I had hidden my face from him, there was still that bulge, no doubt a result of the early morning. Even though I had only had a glance before covering my eyes, the image of Cullen clad in nothing but black boxer shorts seemed seared into my mind. God, and what a sight it was...

“Morning! You’re here early!” a voice in the breakroom broke me out of my thoughts and I felt my cheeks grow even warmer. I tried to force a smile on my face.

“Decided to get breakfast on the way over,” I replied. “I’m sorry, I’m bad with names. What was yours again?”

“Chrysanthemum, but everyone just calls me Chrys,” she poured herself a cup of coffee as she spoke. I repeated the name in my head as I stared at the back of her head. She was the only person in the office with hair that was such a pale blond. It fell just past her shoulder in half curl, half waves. It had been the first thing I noticed about her. The second had been her smile - friendly and warm.

“Don’t feel bad, I only have one name to learn. You’ve got about 60.” She grabbed a cup of yogurt from the fridge and turned to me, breakfast in one hand and that reassuring smile shining bright. “You’ll get there. Happy Friday!”

I nodded and mumbled the sentiment in return before gathering my trash to deposit and finding my way to my cubicle.  The first half of my work day went by blessedly fast. I had less than a handful of phone calls and after the last few days, I was familiar enough with our database that I didn’t have to keep customers waiting while I found their records and their invoices. There was still a large stack of payments to process leftover from the sudden departure of whoever had held the job before me, but payments were my favorite part of the job.

Twelve o’clock snuck up on me and I barely had time to grab my purse and call out “going off site for lunch” to my boss before running down the stairs. He grunted an acknowledgement and that was good enough for me. I had a blonde (former) Templar to check up on.

I could feel my hands shaking as I approached my flat. I knew I should stop and take a moment to collect myself but I was on a time crunch and part of me frantically wondered if he was even still there. The building was still standing, so at least he hadn’t accidentally burned my new place down. Jesus, I really should have tried to explain more of this shit to him before just leaving him alone.

I tried to take a steadying breath as I slid my key into the lock and opened the door to my place, but I knew that with my heart racing and a million “what if’s” racing through my head, focusing on my damn breathing wouldn’t do a thing. In fact, in the past it had made my panic attacks worse. But as I opened the door to my flat I glanced across my living room to the open patio door and for a brief moment, I forgot how to breathe entirely.

Cullen stood on my balcony with his back to me, overlooking the tree-spotted city before him. Bellingham wasn’t a huge city by any means, but between the size and the technology that allowed us to move so much faster and reach so much higher, I could only imagine how Cullen felt staring at what must be an alien world to him.

Even with his back to me, he was beautiful. Part of me wanted to roll my eyes as the thought crossed my mind - how cliche - but it was true. The pale green sweater he wore stretched wonderfully across his well muscled back. His hair - so strictly maintained throughout his scenes in Dragon Age: Inquisition - was an unruly mess of curls that still just begged me to run my fingers through it, even as I felt the need to maintain my space. Physical attraction aside, the man was still a stranger. I couldn’t even be sure exactly which version of Thedas he had come from.

Cullen turned as he heard the door shut behind me. His hand flew to his neck and he started to move back inside. “I was starting to think it would never stop raining. I wanted to enjoy the sunshine.”

“No need to explain. What else are balconies for?” I set my bag and keys down in their usual spot and headed towards my kitchen as he came inside and closed the doors behind him. “Hungry? I’ve got leftovers I was planning on re-heating.”

Cullen nodded and I removed my leftover parmesan chicken from the fridge. I grabbed two plates as the food warmed up in my microwave and turned back to face him. He was standing in my living room, still looking uncomfortable. I couldn’t really blame him.

“How have you managed so far this morning? I know technology-wise we only really got to talk about the fire place and light switches last night.” Cullen watched with fascination as I pulled the now hot chicken from the microwave and plated each piece.

“Truth be told, without any soldiers to drill or recovering templars to look after, I went back to sleep,” Cullen admitted somewhat sheepishly. “I thought it might be best I touch as little as possible for fear of setting the apartment on fire.”

“Hey, there’s only one magic fire button in here,” I shot back with a smirk as I set his food on my coffee table, one of the few empty, solid surfaces in my apartment. Cullen settled onto my couch with his food and after a moment of hesitation, I chose to sit in my computer chair facing him with my plate on my lap. Maybe not a wonderful idea with a hot plate, but I didn’t want to sit on the couch next to him. I just hoped he didn't think I was being rude.

“So. You mentioned caring for recovering Templars, which answers part of the question I needed to ask you.”

Cullen quickly swallowed his mouthful before answering, “Which is?”

I hesitated, popping a bite of the re-heated chicken in my mouth as I stalled to collect my thoughts. “The game that I know you from… There are different outcomes depending on the choices the player makes and I need to know… What happened to you between Kinloch hold and Kirkwall?”

Cullen paused with his food halfway to his mouth, one brow raised in curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s personal and that’s not a time in your life you enjoy thinking about but,” I bit my cheek hard. Just ask the question. You need to know. “It never happened in any of my games, but there’s a possible outcome where you sort of go crazy and kill some innocent mages.”

Cullen’s eyes grew wide in what I assumed was genuine shock. I was never able to tell when someone was lying, but then Cullen never seemed like a talented liar in the games. “Never! Those blood mages may have tortured and imprisoned me and yes, I regret some of my actions in the years after, but I never took the life of an innocent mage!”

Maybe it was just the situation and the emotionally weighted question, but his response did unfortunately nothing to untie the knot weighing heavily in the pit of my stomach. Before I could respond my phone began to ring, and my boss’s name showed on the screen. Cullen gave a quizzical look at the device in my hands. “Shit, just a second,” I muttered towards him before answering the call.

“Hey, boss.”

“You didn’t leave anything at the office did you?”

“I don’t think so?” Anxiety fluttered in my chest for a moment. Surely I hadn’t done something to deserve being fired already?

“Good. Most of the staff took today off for the holiday weekend so we’re closing the office early today. Don’t come back in. See you Tuesday!”

The line went dead before I could respond. I let out a shaky breath as I placed my phone down on my kitchen counter and turned towards Cullen, who was staring at device in fascination. “Dorian once gave the inquisitor something like that… it let them communicate after the mage went home to Tevinter.”

I nodded absently, glad that the writers of Dragon Age had put something similar to phones in the game. That would make at least one thing a little easier to explain.

“That was my boss. They don’t need me back for the rest of the day so, I guess I’m yours.” I tried not to wince at the unintentional suggestion and prepared myself for a very long afternoon trying to explain the 21st century to a fantasy video game character.

[tahlreth]

1, 3, 38 & 36 Bucky/Tony

AN: This one was super fun - might have ended up more humorous than the prompter requested, but I couldn’t help it. This is an AU where apparently Buck and Tony bought a house and live together, and Steve is tiny.

The prompts were: ‘You’re really soft’, ‘You’re cute when you’re worried’, ‘Have you lost your mind?’, and ‘I’d like it if you stayed’.

Beware the read more.

Tony had been asleep for three blissful hours when he was jolted awake by what sounded like a stampede of elephants, or maybe just one really angry one. “Jay?” The question was groggy and slurred, but his AI was used to his peculiarities and understood him just fine.

“It appears Sergeant Barnes and Mr. Rogers are at the door, Sir,” JARVIS answered, amusement ringing clear through his words. “They seem to have forgotten that Sergeant Barnes has a key.”

Groaning, Tony dropped his head back onto the pillow and dragged both hands down his face. They had to be drunk - there was no other explanation for it. His Bucky-babe was pretty smart, usually, and Steve wasn’t all that lacking in intelligence either. For them both to have forgotten that Bucky could get in, and that their neighbors hated when there was ‘a racket’, they had to be three sheets to the wind. The pounding was only getting louder, and he could hear some muffled shouting too. They were so getting a call in the morning, or maybe Mr. Heins would be over himself, looking all mean-faced. Hell, if the idiots kept it up, they might even get a lovely visit from the police that very night.

“Goddammit. Jay, why didn’t we put in the sensors so you could open doors on your own yet?” As he spoke, he reluctantly rolled out of bed, stumbling a little before he caught himself. Yawning and scratching his stomach, he hurried to the door as fast as he could, cursing his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s BFF. “This is a pain in my ass.”

“You had the trip to India, Sir, and then you were offended when Mr. Rogers called me 'creepy’ and insinuated you would be lost without me.”

“But I would be.”

“You never like that pointed out, Sir.”

“Huh. True. Okay. Well, put in on the fucking list, because this is ridiculous.”

“Before or after painting the garage?”

“What the fuck do you think?”

“Before then. Done, Sir, and would you like me to intercept the call currently being placed to the local police department?”

“That’s really sweet of you,” he answered, scowling as he neared the door. “But I don’t need people thinking you’re like… SkyNet or something. We’ll just handle the police when they get here. Maybe I'l put some coffee on for them.” Tony could have given the idiots warning, but instead he stood to one side, then yanked the door open hard. Bucky and Steve tumbled inside in a tangle of limbs and a lot of really loud cursing, which was fucking aggravating because now Mrs. Heins would be the one to visit, holding a bar of soap in a very pointed manner. Jesus fuck. “Have you lost your mind?” he hissed, not sure which moron he was talking to. Bucky should know better, and Steve definitely knew better, and whoever the hell had driven them here was officially on his shit list.

“TONY!” Bucky bellowed, shoving Steve away from him and lunging at Tony’s legs. He just about took Tony to the floor with him, but Tony firmed his knees just in time, arms windmilling wildly as he tried to keep his balance. “I missed ya. Missed ya lots'n lots'n lots'n… just a whole bunch.” His idiot boyfriend clearly had no volume control at the moment, because he was sill talking way too loud, with just a touch of a slur. Thankfully, Steve had crawled his way to the door and slammed it shut, and was now staring at it in a very satisfied manner.

“Kept the outside out,’ he reported proudly to no one. Tony could feel a throbbing in his left temple, and he prayed for patience as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Very good, Mr. Rogers.” Jay was a fucking Godsend, and would be able to handle Steve just fine while he focused on the idiot that was his. “I believe after doing such a fine job with the door, you will be able to stand and make your way to the couch.”

“Need a path,” Tony heard the tiny blond answer belligerantly before he turned the bulk of his attention to Bucky, who was still informing Tony how much he’d been missed.

“You’re like… like the ocean Tony, 'cause how it’s so salty and… unpredictable and it’s got all these fish, right? Pretty ones with all the colors and stuff. But the ocean - Tony, Tony, we should go the ocean, but the one by Malibu 'cause the one here is cold and shit, but you’re not cold, you’re all warm and deep and blue - but the fish! Tony. The fish. They’d be fine without the ocean, right? The one you’re going to teach me to surf in? You know the one, the warm one with the fish that’d it’d be fine without.” Jesus Christ, his boyfriend was a fucking lunatic, and Tony was even crazier for finding his drunken attempt at speech endearing. “That’s you, Tony, and I’m… I’m the fish. But the pretty ones, with like… like colors and shit. Not those flat ugly suckers. I wanna be a… a fish with… I dunno. But one in warm water because you’re a warm ocean and I’m a fish and I have to have you to be okay. That’s how much I missed you - like a fish misses the ocean. Can I go to bed now?”

“Yes, you beautiful mess, you can go to bed now.” When he carded his hands through Bucky’s hair, the man tried to start purring - probably thought it would be funny in his alcohol-soaked mind - and only managed to sound like a car engine trying and failing to turn over. It was sort of adorable though, so Tony kept up the motion and didn’t say anything about the weird noise. Instead he used the time to track Steve’s motions. Jay was coaching his wobbly path to the living room, where he could sleep on the sofa until he sobered up a bit.

Tomorrow, Tony decided cheerfully, seemed like the perfect day to wake up early and work on projects that required very loud power tools.

“Alright, come on Bucky-bumbles. I can’t carry you so I need you to stand up so we can get you to bed.”

“Okay. But Tony?”

“What?”

“You never said that we could go to the ocean.”

“We can go to the ocean.”

“'N you didn’t say the ocean wouldn’t be the ocean without fish.”

“Buck-”

“Toooonyyyyyy,” he whined, smooshing his face against Tony’s stomach and rubbing his nose there. “Ooooh… you’re really soft.”

“That’d be my shirt.”

“We pick good fabric softener.”

“Oh my fucking God.”

“Does God fuck?”

“James Buchanan Barnes. Get your ass up off that floor and help me get you to the bedroom, or so help me I will leave you here and go to bed all by myself.”

“Nooooo. Tony… Tony if I stay you hafta, 'cause I missed you'n even if I said the ocean - when can we go?”

“What?”

“When can we go to the ocean.” Bucky peeked up at him with one bloodshot but hopeful eye, and Tony felt himself melt.

“You’re not gonna remember any date we set tonight. We’ll talk about it in the morning, okay?”

“Kay. But Tony. Tony. Tony. To-”

“What?”

“The ocean needs fishies as much as the fishes need the ocean, so you can’t leave me. If I stay here, you gotta too. Okay? I really like it if you… if you stayed here and then you could be my warm, salty ocean pillow and we’d be sooo happy because we’d be together, and-” This wasn’t cute - it wasn’t cute even a little bit. Tony was angry, not charmed, and Bucky wasn’t being super adorable.

“How much did you have to drink?”

“I dunno. Tasha bought me stuff and said 'drink’ and so I did, and then the room went kinda swimmy, but then she gave me more and things got fuzzy instead, and then I thought of you and the ocean and I missed you so much so I had her bring me'n Stevie home, and then you weren’t happy to see me, and you think the ocean would be just fine without colorful fishies.” Tony tried to remind himself again that he was angry, but it was hard when his boyfriend had started sort of listing from side to side, humming into his stomach.

“I was happy to see you, it’s just late and I was sleeping, and you were being very loud,” Tony murmured, running his hands through Bucky’s hair again. “You’re right, the ocean without any fish would be boring, and I thought we’d decided that Nat is not allowed to pick your drinks? You only forget about your key when she’s the one handing them out.”

“I got a key? Tony… you… you gave me a key to your house?”

“It’s our house, remember? We bought it together?”

“Oh my God. I’m so lucky. TONY! We live together!” Bucky proclaimed it like it was the most wonderful thing he’d ever heard, and Tony was so in love with him that it was pathetic.

“Yeah, we do. Tomorrow we’ll talk about visiting the ocean to surf and see the, ah, the fishies. We’ll also have a long talk about why you’re not allowed to drink with Nat anymore and why she just dropped you and Steve off instead of helping you get inside.”

“Sam was driving, not her, and he said we could get our own stupid asses inside 'cause it was our fault for being so dumb and drinking with Tasha.”

“Jay?”

“Noted, Sir.” Wilson was in for SUCH a pranking. “Mr. Rogers is asleep on the sofa - shall I set an alarm to wake him up?” For one spiteful moment, Tony almost said 'yes, and make sure it’s loud’, but relented at the last moment.

“No, it’s fine. We all have tomorrow off - no alarms. We’ll all get up when we get up.”

“Very well Sir.”

“JARVIS! Did you know me'n Tony live together? Like fishies in the ocean?”

“I did, Sergeant Barnes, but congratulations once again.”

“Thanks. Tony, why aren’t we in bed?”

“Because you won’t stand up and I can’t carry you.”

“Bet I could carry you,” he retorted, standing up with alarming speed and nearly tipping over in the process.

“Bucky! Let’s not… I know you can carry me, but let’s not try that tonight, okay?” Tony murmured, steadying his boyfriend, encouraging him to lean on Tony. “You’re really drunk, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself trying.”

“Kay. You know, you’re cute when you’re worried. Really cute. So cute. My cute live-in boyfriend.” Bucky was probably aiming for his mouth, but Tony ended up getting a big, wet smooch on the cheek; when Bucky tried introducing his tongue to the mix, he decided that was enough of that and pulled away just a little.

“Thanks. Okay. Let’s get you to bed where I can be the ocean-”

“Salty, warm ocean.”

“… right. Salty warm ocean. And you can be a… a pretty fish of indeterminate color.”

“Mmmkay. Tony!”

“What?”

“I have KEYS!”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

[hide-the-cutlery]

The Four Horsemen

Today was awful. I felt absolutely manic. I was irritated. I was pissed. I was emotional. I was throwing things around while cleaning. (Side note: if you ever want to add some aggravation to your life, try organizing hangers and putting them neatly into a box. Jesus fucking Christ.) I posted a comment on Facebook that turned volatile, where I ended up calling about 25 random strangers idiots, just because I felt like bickering. Talk about backfiring — it essentially wound up with people just picking on me. I swore out loud, loudly, which I knew would upset my parents. I went to the gas station to smoke a cigarette, and when I got home, my father just happened to be in the hallway in front of my room, no doubt trying to look casual, but with the intent of smelling me to see if I smoked one. I think my mother is frightened of me because I couldn’t contain an explosion of frustration I had when I was trying to talk to her and had to force myself to try to speak in a calm tone. I also think she is judging me because I couldn’t stay awake during the afternoon, mostly due to a medication increase. She flat out told me I’ve been loopy the past few days and that it scares her. It’s equally upsetting that I’m only trying to feel better, but it’s scaring people. I’m still trying to adjust to the increase, and after reading up on the medication, the risks and side effects are scary and just plain suck. I’m already fat enough, I can’t wait to gain more weight. Nothing seems to satiate me; I was contemplating making a bagel a few minutes ago. At 2:30am. It would figure that just as I feel like I’m ready to start dating, even though I’m disgusted with my body, I now get to be even more disgusting and insecure. Fucking hell.

The meds are giving me wild dreams. Last night I dreamt I was Baker acted and learned that the cops had been called on me several times, but had gotten stuck in traffic each time. I know I physically attacked at least one person and stabbed my mother. In my dream, my parents had also moved me out of my room and into another. (This has actually happened in real life, but I knew they were going to make me switch rooms. After being in their house a few months after I got out of the hospital, I was kicked out of my room, which I grew up in, and moved into my sister’s old room. She still had a child’s bed when she moved out. So now I’m 32, sleeping on a child’s bed, in my sister’s room, while she’s off living in her nice apartment and getting a useful degree and thriving without a battle with addiction and her mental health. She’ll probably never end up broke, with a useless degree, living in our parents’ house, like I have been the past 2 years because I can’t fucking take care of myself. Anyway, the reason I was relocated? My mother wanted to keep the “guest” (my) room nice for when guests come. Which has been once in the two years and some months since I’ve been here. And it was my grandparents. Clearly I’m still holding a resentment towards her about that, but I seem to have gone on a tangent — back to my dream.) The rooms in the dream weren’t in a house, but in an apartment arranged like the one I spent my freshman year in, except the shapes and sizes were different. The one my stuff was put into while I was at the mental health facility was very strangely shaped and extremely small. Occupying my old, larger, square-shaped room was a girl I used to work with, who I always hated out of jealousy. She began the same position I held about 3 years after I had been hired. I had been promoted by then, so I technically outranked her, but she was the fucking golden girl in my old office. She could do no wrong. The sad thing is if I wasn’t so jealous of her, we probably could have been friends. We even discovered we had dated two brothers! Within months, she was going to conferences around the country and Canada. I was never sent on a conference — just medical leave. Yes, my old boss actually told me I needed a break, and I had to stop working and go on short-term disability for 6ish weeks. I know she was trying to save my ass, because the quality of my work had slipped so low it was probably a fire-able offense, but really now, how many people are told they can’t work until they get some rest and time to focus on addressing some of the stress and grief they are obviously experiencing? I was even sober at the time. Well, what I mean by “sober” is that I wasn’t drinking. Getting so fucking high on Xanax every day, though, that’s a different story... I was getting drunk again by the time I came back to work.

My dreams are terrifyingly realistic. They usually follow the same storyline: I end up involved with a group of male friends and tend to gravitate towards one. He is usually aloof; I spend time with the rest of them to get closer to him. None of them are real people, but creations of my own, lonely mind. It’s funny, but the dreams usually involve Star Wars or WoW. That, or I dream about my ex or old best friend, who I was in love with from my junior year of high school and well into college. Sometimes they blend into one person, which isn’t that strange. They reminded me a lot of each other, and I’d give anything to have one (or both) of them back into my life. Their family is usually around, and more times than not, they are focused on a girl that is not me. Everything feels so real, and I believe I’ve written before about how, even in the dream, I feel/think it shouldn’t be another goddamn girl. It should be me. Often I will become violent towards the other girl, if given the opportunity. I even experience a sense of betrayal that carries on long beyond the dream and into the reality I am sometimes cursed with upon waking. And, of course, I have drinking dreams. Not so surprisingly, it’s actually not only drinking — I’ve had dreams recently about pills and even coke (which I’ve only done 3-4 times!). I have a friend who sees the same psychiatrist as I do, who told me he can prescribe me something to stop the realistic dreams, but honestly, I don’t want that. The pathetic truth is I like my dreams. It’s a way for me to have the opportunity to interact with people I desperately miss, even if it’s painful on occasion. It’s a way to lash out at people I’m angry with without actually doing so. It’s a way to drink and use (although those dreams are usually a saga of finding and keeping the stuff instead of actually having/using it). It’s a way to escape the life I’ve built and despise.

Sometimes I feel like I only live for other people. When I step back and observe my life, it’s often hard for me to point out something I enjoy or that brings me happiness (besides my kitties), including friend/relationships (unless turning back time was realistic). There are are voids in my heart and soul I fear will never be filled. I know I have people who love me and want to be in my life, and I’m trying to let them come in closer instead of pushing them away. The reality, though, is this: I don’t like my life and feel I could never be content unless I morphed it into my old one. I miss the familiarity of it. I miss days on the couch, just watching tv and chatting with people. I miss having my cats inside with me. I miss being the boss. I miss gaming, cranking up my music as loud as I want. Watching, doing, wearing, fucking, leaving, buying, smoking, drinking, taking whatever/whoever/wherever/whenever I wanted. Being messy. Isolating. Escaping. Again, the brutal truth is that I wanted to go out today. I’m sick of relying on pills so I don’t have to face reality. I hate that I can’t face reality — that everything needs to be tuned down so I can function. As I was looking at my life today, I contemplated for a while what I could change to make it enjoyable. “Happy, joyous, and free.” I couldn’t think of anything, and maybe there is a possibility that it’s simply not comprehendible to me at this point. Maybe I’m just not that far along in my healing/recovery yet, and lord knows I need treatment for having BPD or bipolar disorder or whatever the hell theydecide I have as well as the anxiety, panic disorder, depression, substance abuse problems, OCD tendencies, impulse control issues — they being anyone who takes care of me in some sort of fashion. In other words, all my providers.

They have all told me that I cannot drink ever again because my liver can’t take it. I could be dead in weeks, months, a day, who knows. Regardless of the time, I won’t make it out alive if I decide to go for a trip down memory lane. One of the only times I’ve seen a look of actual concern in my psychiatrist’s eyes (his voice is level, calm, and almost caring, but his eyes betray him) was while he was telling me “you don’t want to die from liver failure”. My primary described to me what would happen as my organs would begin to shut down: unbelievable pain, weakness, fluid swelling my whole body, bleeding out from the veins in my throat, no hope... But I don’t want to go like that — in a hospital, attached to monitors, needles under my skin, aides, nurses, doctors, family all shuffling in and out, everyone knowing by my yellow eyes and skin that I did it all to myself. Imagine the shame! No, I’d rather it be like being found on the bathroom floor. I feel like I wouldn’t be missing a lot. How much is there to miss in a world you can’t face? In a reality where you can’t think of a single possible thing to, not even realistically, but hypothetically change to make you happy? (Besides the time thing, or undoing a hell of a lot of bad memories from awful, unfair experiences). Maybe it’s my disease, as they call it, talking. Maybe it’s just something I’ll have to experience instead of trying to imagine. Maybe it’s a lot of things, but all I can possibly fathom, a life beyond my wildest dreams, doesn’t add up to the responsibility I imagine I have to stick around for others. Sometimes, all I feel is Terror, Bewilderment, Frustration, and Despair. No one knows those feelings like I do, or I should say no one experiences them like I do. My feelings are intense — too intense, I’ve been told by therapists. So yeah, Terror, Bewilderment, Frustration, and Despair push me to wanting to go out so badly sometimes. One last hurrah, and then just end it, but I couldn’t live with the guilt I’d feel. What if it persisted through death? I couldn’t handle that, but ha, I’d be shit out of luck at that point. I suppose I should note that these intense feelings were much more present earlier, but now all I feel is grogginess. It’s 4:40am. I think I’ll read this over once, even though I know it’s confusing, choppy, and just bad, and then try for some sleep. I know my dream self has people she’s waiting to see.

[rokurookajima]

doing some questions bc i sent a risky text and i need to look @god until i get a response

1. You woke up naked next to the last person you texted, what would you say?

last person i texted was my friend john who i absolutely hate so wow that would be a HUGE yikes

2. What’s going on between you and the last person you kissed?

lmao good question. actually i mean i know the answer, we’re friends with benefits and we’re very cool with it. it would be cooler if he would respond to my thirst text rn u feel me

3. If your boyfriend or girlfriend was into drugs, would you care?

technically i guess my exboyfriend and my current fwb are into drugs?? like they both smoke weed and do psychedelics lmao. im p current boy has also done coke but didn’t like it. but wow yeah i guess the question was would i care. nah as long as they’re not doing anything dangerous like driving while on drugs, and they’re not doing anything serious like heroin, i’m chill

4. Is your last name longer than six letters?

nah its 5

5. Was your last kiss drunk or sober?

it was sober, but my first kiss with that person was drunk lmao

6. Have you ever wanted to have someone but you messed it up?

uhhh yeah i mean both my ex boyfriends. they fucked up too, but at the time, i wanted it to work out and felt like it was mostly my fault 

7. What does your last received text say?

“if only i had that influence” lmao i told my friend its too late to hang out tonight and that the only thing that would summon me out of my house would be sex

8. How many times have you kissed the last person you kissed?

uhhhh wow good question. idk how many times we’ve kissed like actually but we’ve been alone together three times and made out all three of those times 

9. Where was your last kiss at?

it was in the boy’s house, at the front door before i left how cliche

10. When is the last time you saw your sister?

wow i don’t have a sister

11. What do you drink in the morning?

usually just water if i’m at home and not going to get breakfast, but me and olivia keep getting diet coke in the morning before sculpture its bad

12. Where did you sleep last night?

alas it’s been a minute since i slept anywhere other than my apartment

13. Do you think relationships are hard?

i mean yeah they are, but up until the last month of my last relationship, it never felt like…palpably hard?? like there were hard things, but i never felt like it was so hard i questioned if it was worth it

14. If you could go back and change something in the past 5 months, would you?

ha welp yeah five months ago was the last couple weeks me and my ex bf were still together and between then and now there are so many fuckin things i would change

15. You’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, any problems?

not at all yo i’m TRYING to lock him in a room with me but idk where he is

16. Would you rather it be sunny or rainy?

rainy B’)

17. Do you know anyone with the same middle name as you?

i know i do, but i can’t remember who it is right now

18. Are you wearing jeans,sweatpants,or pajama pants?

i’m not wearing pants at all my guy how scandalous 

19. Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 years from now?

wow i really hope so 

20. Does anyone like you?

lmao my friends like me B’) but i mean like like?? welp pretty boy likes me enough to have sex with me, but we’re not romantic. this kid josh from my photo classes told our friend that he likes me sorry josh :/

21. Have you ever kissed someone with a name that starts with an S?

yes i have my girl saoirse 

22. Is the last person you kissed gay?

no

23. Is there a person you CANNOT stand?

jesus CHRIST yes there is it’s this girl in my photo class that is the WORST

24. Have you ever considered getting a tattoo?

not a single day in my life i would never have 11 tattoos on my body

25. In the past week have you cried?

surprisingly i haven’t. i’m probably gonna jinx myself but since i got involved with this boy i haven’t rlly been sad at all. which is much more a correlation than a direct causation but he plays a part it’s a long story

26. What breed was the last dog you saw?

wow this french bulldog ran up to a fence while me and my friends were walking by and it was so scary bc we just hear this goblin sound and see a vague shape running at us out of an alley. but then it turned out to be a french bulldog and it was the best thing ever

27. Do you dry off in the shower or out of the shower?

i usually pull the towel into the shower and wrap up in it, but don’t actually dry myself off til i get out

28. Have you ever kissed a football player?

uh not an active football player but my ex boyf played football in junior high if that counts 

29. Do you think you’re old?

sometimes. like i’m only 20 but also like i’m 20 and i’m a junior in college and soon i’ll be a college graduate and that shit is FUCKED

30. Do you like text messaging?

yes i do i’m a fan

31. What type of day are you having?

it’s pretty average. not bad, pretty decent. little exasperating bc i’ve been pressed to see this mans and haven’t heard from him but that’s rlly my own dang fault i need to chill the thirst out

32. Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced?

yep and i did twice

33. Do you prefer warm or cold weather?

cold!! but not like freezing, i love chilly weather like 50-60 degrees (f) is SO prime

34. Is there a person of the opposite sex who means a lot to you?

yeah there’s a few!! luke, clayton, german, kevin, john even tho i hate him a lot. my ex boyfriend will always mean a lot to me bc of what we had. i got a soft spot for the current boy too i mean i gotta admit. and i guess my dad even tho he’s problematic af

35. Would you prefer a relationship or a fling?

overall i’d prefer a relationship, but i’ve never had a fling until the last few weeks and idk if it’s even a fling it’s just not a committed relationship. i think both are good under certain circumstances 

36. Are you a simple or complicated person?

i think i’m somewhere in between like idk i think i’m pretty simple but i operate on a lot of fuck shit so who knows

37. What song are you listening to?

my 600 lb life 

38. When you say you’re sorry do you mean it?

absolutely always 

39. Is there a girl that knows everything or almost everything about you?

lmao wow there are so many. olivia and evie definitely know the most about my life currently, and i have told them a lot about my life pre college. annabeth, gabrielle, gillian, and rachel also know a lot about me since we’ve been friends for a thousand years and now i still try to keep them updated on p much everything 

40. What made you start liking the person you like now?

uh even tho again its not a romantic thing i’ll still talk about pretty boy. weirdly like i met him last summer with my ex bf and i never knew what his name was, then i would see him literally all the time in super random places downtown. i don’t think i even knew his name til like november?? we also didn’t actually talk to each other til a party in december but i was super fucked up and don’t know what i said and i was moreso talking to his friend. now that i think back on it, i always thought he was attractive and when i’d think about possible like….hook ups he’d usually come to mind, but i didn’t think much about it. i was at a party a few weeks ago, and both of us ended up in the back of the kitchen and we were talking then we just kept talking and i was very drunk and we went upstairs and ended up making out in my friend’s bed. so uh. that was how. i guess why, it started mostly as a chemistry thing i guess but also he’s rlly rlly easy to talk to and always seems genuinely invested in what i have to say 

41. When did you last receive a text message?

like 2 minutes ago from evie 

42. What is wrong with you right now?

i haven’t heard back from the boy and honestly i wanna kiss :/

43. How well do you know the last female you texted?

the last are evie and olivia in our group chat and i’d say i know them both preeeetty well

44. Does anyone disgust you?

lmao that’s kinda extreme. i don’t think so but idk maybe

45. Would you date someone right now if they asked?

uh wow i don’t think so. idk i’m content with what i have rn, just kinda wish i saw him a little more often

46. Are you in a good mood right now?

yeah i guess, i’m chilling 

47. Who was the last person you talked to in person?

uh it was zach, who is my friend kevin’s friend and a barista at the coffee shop i went to earlier, so we chatted while he hooked me up with a cold brew

48. What color shirt are you wearing?

i’m also not wearing a shirt jesus why am i like this. i’m wearing a black bra and a green jacket

49. Has someone recently told you something you didn’t want to hear?

mmm i don’t think so? 

50. Anyone you’re giving up on?

no i don’t think so. i’ve moved on from seriously wanting my ex boyfriend to come back so i guess that kind of counts, but that’s not really giving up on him 

51. Do you hate the person you fell hardest for?

no definitely not. i wanted to for a minute, but it really felt so much worse to hate him

52. Have you ever thought about giving up on someone but couldn’t?

i guess maybe at the end of my relationship, there were times where my friends said maybe i should end things bc it was causing me so much more stress than anything else, but i couldn’t ever give it much thought bc i wanted to make it work so bad 

53. Do you like rain?

i do i love rain so much!! i don’t like when i have to walk through it, but even still it’s worth it

54. Do you care if your boyfriend/girlfriend drinks?

nah man. again like the drugs question, my ex boyfriend and the current weird boy both drink. as long as they’re not like. ugly disaster drunk, or drunk driving, then i don’t mind at all

55. Have you ever liked somebody and never told them?

lmao i kinda had a crush on one of my best friends in high school but it was more of a like….coming of age/grips with my sexuality thing than an actual like, and i never told her, so that’s the closest thing to that. 

56. Do you like to cuddle?

boyyyyyyy i fucking love to cuddle i live for it where is the boy so i can cuddle

57. Are you shy?

sometimes, but idk not necessarily but i do get a lot of social anxiety about certain things 

58. Do you get along with girls?

yes dude i fucking love girls girls are life i’ve always had rlly good girl friends and general experiences with girls. way more than boys lmao

59. Have you dated the person you texted last?

i mean me and evie and olivia are actually married sooooo

60. What do you carry with you at all times?

my phone?? that’s a boring answer but its tru

61. If you were paid 1 million dollars to spend the night in a supposed haunted house, would you?

uh my friend annabeth’s house is pretty haunted and i’ve slept there a bunch of times so pls someone pay me for that

62. Do you think you can last in a relationship for five months?

definitely!! i mean if i legitimately like and care about that person, but if i didn’t i wouldn’t be in a relationship with them at all. 

63. Think back to October, were you in a relationship?

lmao yes i was. we were not doing great bc the distance but it wasn’t actually bad in october 

64. The person you like kisses you on the forehead, do you find this cute?

fucking YES

65. Did anything “cute” happen in the last week?

my friends are all cute wtf anything with them is cute

66. How old are the last three people you kissed?

uh they were pretty boy, luke, and olivia so 22, 20, and 21.

67. Would you rather pay to get your nails done or do them yourself? 

lmao i get them done but my mom pays, the one thing she’ll pay for for me B’)   

68. Which do you like better- Zebra print or leopard print?    

tbh i’m not a big fan of either, but i guess leopard

69. Do you have any stickers on your car?    

no but i should fix that 

70. Would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or Lil Wayne?    

lil wayne i guess

71. Blackberry, Anroid, or iPhone?    

iPhone but man let me tell u i had a blackberry the first half of high school and i loved that little son of a bitch

72. When’s the last time you had pizza from Pizza Hut?    

i’m pretty sure it was valentines day??? me and evie got some young stuffed crust

73. Do you like diet soda?    

i’m literally going to die from drinking diet coke

74. What color are the walls in your room?

in my apartment, they’re just white, but like at my home home they’re chocolate brown and light blue    

75. Are you 16 or older?    

physically, i’m 20. mentally, debatable.

76. Do you watch Pretty Little Liars?

no i think i watched the first couple episodes when it came out tho??    

77. Do you have a job?    

yep i’m a real adult i work in an office

78. What are your initials?    

sgg

79. Did you ever have braces?    

i did lmao junior year of high school til right before i started college

80. Are you from the south?    

nah im midwest both in body and spirit

81. What does your last status on facebook say?    

uh it was a click bait thing i shared lmao

82. Do you still talk to the first person you ever kissed?    

i do bc it was gabrielle who has been one of my best friends since first grade

83. Are you closer to your mom or your dad?   

im closer to my mom i think but me and my dad are chill the majority of the time now. i don’t live with them anymore so i don’t rlly spend much time with them in general but y’know

84. Have you ever done cheerleading or gymnastics?    

i did gymnastics for a minute as a small small child

85. What’s the last movie you saw in theaters?    

wow it’s been a really long time??? i think it might have been the blair witch lmao

86. Do you smoke?    

cigarettes, sometimes. i like to smoke when i’m at parties, and also evie smokes so i’ll smoke with her sometimes. weed, yes more often. haven’t for a while tho wtf

87. Would you rather wear heels or flip flops?    

heels lmao i fuckin hate flip flops

88. Is your phone touch screen? 

uh are there people on this site that don’t have touch screen phones in this day and age   

89. Do you normally wear your hair straight or curly?    

straight

90. Have you ever snuck out of your house?    

nah lmao my parents would’ve killed me i would never have gotten away with it. also where i grew up, none of my friends lived that close together so when we couldn’t drive, none of us could’ve met up. plus there was nothing to do at all after like 10 other than go to someone’s house so there would’ve been no point

91. Would you rather swim in a river, lake, or pool?    

i guess a lake?? if it wasn’t a scary one u feel me

92. Have you ever made out in a car?    

yes my first make out ever was in a car parked on my college campus

93. …Had sex in a car?    

no but y’know i’m open 

94. Are you single or in a relationship?    

i feel like i’ve talked about this so much lmao but not really either i guess i’m more single than i am in a relationship, but i’m not tryna sleep with anyone other than pretty boy so idk honestly this is nice to be somewhere in between

95. What were you doing last night at midnight?    

i was sleeping last night was not an exciting one

96. When’s the last time you saw fireworks?    

idk man i think december, the last time i was in florida??

97. Do you like the camera on your phone?    

yeah it’s chill. i rlly like taking pictures with flash through snapchat

98. Have you ever had a friend with benefits?    

once again i’ve talked about him SO much in this questionnaire but yes i do right now he’s a weird art hoe thot that does too many psychedelics and likes to write and teaches kindergarten 

99. Have you ever passed out from drinking?    

nah man i rlly don’t drink that much

100. Are you friends with people on facebook that you actually hate?   

idk if i hate them, but i definitely am not friends with a good portion of my Facebook friends  

101. Have you ever had a pregnancy scare? 

i have not thank god   

102. Name your favorite Kesha song:    

die young B’)

103. Do you have any tan lines right now?    

it’s march in ohio whats the sun

104. Would you ever wear cowboy boots with shorts?    

i would never wear cowboy boots honestly i’m insulted