#okay real talk how has 'ranting into the chat window of someone who's blocked me' become a two nickels subject on here

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for messaging an ex friend who blocked me on WhatsApp?

Before you vote YTA, this AITA isn't about block evading but I didn't know how else to describe the situation.

Ex friend 21F and I 20F are coworkers. I won't go into what happened between us because it's a loooong story, both of us made mistakes but she blows everything out of proportions and I was weak and couldn't defend myself from the wild accusations she kept making at me.

Anyway, once I started setting boundaries and standing up for myself, she got upset and blocked me on WhatsApp. For those who don't know, if you try to message someone who blocked you on WhatsApp, the message will go through but they won't receive it, after I realized she had blocked me, it felt like I was screaming into the void.

Anyway, I didn't stop messaging her, I sent long rants about all the pent up anger that accumulated throughout the one year we were friends (or more accurately tried to make the friendship work), talking about how she misinterprets my whole character and believes she's an infallible angel who never done anything to me etc etc etc.

The messages were satisfying somehow, I felt like I lectured her on what she did to me, it also reminded me of letting it out as if I were writing in a diary. I would've stopped at that point but she still harasses me from time to time even though we don't talk anymore, so I made it a habit to scream at her in her chat whenever she does something to me. I literally turned her chat into a venting diary.

One day, she "stole" my chair right in front of me, between brackets because it was clear she actually didn't know it was mine but the etiquette is to ask first and/or check if this chair was taken. She can literally know that if she just looked at the computer screen and see if an account was logged on or off.

I wanted to call her out but after all, we were both sternly told to stay away from each other. So I kept my cool because I didn't want to make a scene and instead went to WhatsApp to scream at her again. In the rant I called her thief and all sorts of insults that implied she did it on purpose, that hurts no one because she won't read it. Not to mention, she did accuse me of stealing her money before so it was like I was getting back at her for that.

After a couple of hours, she was crying and ranting to our coworkers that she accused of stealing, and that we "chould've talked about it like adults" because she didn't mean to take a taken chair and how she was finally moving on from this toxic friendship but I won't let it go blah blah blah.

I was confused because she wasn't supposed to read the message, that's when I realized she had unblocked me sometimes these past couple of weeks for some reason. I was called to HR and I would've been fired but I defended myself by listing all the terrible things she did to me. Finding evidence wasn't difficult because my rants included chat screenshots of the terrible things she said to be before and they decided she was a bigger AH than I was, but they were creeped by my behaviors and called me out on it. Not only HR, but my coworkers too.

AITA for continuing to send messages without taking into account the possibility she might unblock me anytime?

What are these acronyms?

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 8)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 4650 Warnings: fluff, light angst

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira​​​​​ Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 7 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

Walking out through the automatic doors of Metro-General you were hit with a gust of wind so strong you had to adjust the scarf you had wrapped around your neck to make the fabric feel cozier. In your pocket you feel your phone having a near seizure as it vibrates, alerting you of all the messages you received during the day coming in all at once thanks to the lack of service on the eighth floor.

That’s where you spend most of your time, in the social work department sitting in a small cubicle with yellow fluorescent lighting hanging above and a drafty window that whistles as the wind blows. So far most of your work has been shadowing Elena as she is called down for consultations. When asked, you’ve given appropriate suggestions on what services would best suit the patients but you aren’t yet familiar with enough of them.

It was slow today, which was surprising for a Saturday she mentioned, so most of your time was spent researching the organizations within your reach and learning about the different services they provide. Staring at a screen all day made your eyes nearly close a few times but you survived. On your way home you read through all the messages received. 

Ever since your celebratory get together everyone became friendlier with each other and started a group chat, declaring that on weekends you should all meet up and go to different bars.

Not everyone could always make it. Sam was usually working much to Wanda’s dismay, and another time Natasha was preparing for a large trial and needed every minute to work on her case. Bucky would show up about half the time, and you never asked why he couldn’t make it, assuming he had plans to hook up with someone whenever he wasn’t with you guys.

He still had women over on most nights. They weren’t as loud as before but you could hear them, panting his name like a sensual prayer as you scurried across your apartment to the bathroom. If he wasn’t finished by the time you were back in bed you put on your trusty headphones and hoped to fall back asleep.

When you finally exited the subway you replied back to the texts declining tonight’s invitation. You were honestly ready for a nap and even if you took one you doubt it would give you enough energy to stay up later.

A slew of sad faces sent by Steve made you feel a little guilty. He really wanted you to come out with him, especially since he started socializing again but you really needed this night off.

You: I promise I will do my absolute best to come out next weekend

Wanda: You better! Oh and we still have to talk costumes!

Halloween weekend was soon approaching and you knew you couldn’t miss that no matter how tired you were but tonight you were ready to crash.

Your heels were kicked off immediately, makeup barely wiped away as you changed into pumpkin pajama bottoms. Unhooking your bra felt heavenly and you tossed it aside, having it land somewhere in the vicinity of your living room. You slipped on a tank top and threw a comfy sweatshirt over that before plopping onto your bed and under the covers.

With your head on the pillow you stared at the phone cradled in your hand, holding it on the adjacent pillow. You weren’t actually trying to pay attention to the show you put on, just wanting something to fill the void of silence and within a few minutes you were asleep.

It was pitch black when your eyes opened. You searched for your phone on your bed, hands skimming across the mattress but you couldn’t find it. The smarter thing to do would be to turn on the lamp on your nightstand which you finally did. Your phone had fallen to the floor and upon picking it up you saw the time. It wasn’t that late, only nine-something. You could still go out and meet up with everyone but you chose not to. You were still kind of tired and now very hungry. Too lazy to make something you ordered pizza.

Hocus Pocus played in the background as you waited for your food; and finally looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror you fixed your half-assed attempt at makeup removal from before. Feeling more energized you straightened up your tossed clothes while absentmindedly singing along.

“I put a spell on you and now you’re gone, gone, gone so long. I put a spell on you and it was strong, so strong, so strong, so strong.”

You bounced around your apartment continuing to sing while tidying up. You were so excited for the prospect of pizza you practically ran to your door when there was a knock, opening it without looking through the peephole.

Instead of the pizza there was Bucky, arms crossed with a beaming smile. “Hey neighbor.”

You were surprised to see him, wondering why he would be knocking at your door and not out like you thought he would be. He also declined meeting up with everyone tonight so you assumed he had plans of his own.

“H-hey, what’re you doing here Bucky?”

His arms fell to his sides. “Oh nothing, just wanted to say thank you.”

Your face scrunched with confusion, trying to think of what reason he might need to thank you but just then Bucky answered the question you hadn’t asked.

“For the show. I put a spell on yooooou,” he mimicked, swirling his arms across his chest performatively.

“Oh no, you heard me!?”

You hid your face in your hands as Bucky chuckled, “Thin walls, remember?”

Peeking through your fingers you saw the genuine smile stretched across Bucky’s face. He may have been teasing but he wasn’t laughing at you. Thankfully he hadn’t heard anything worse, because if there was a real Disney marathon on he might have been the one putting on his headphones to block out the high notes you strained to reach in “Let It Go.”

“Yes, yes, I remember,” you smirk back at him. “So, you headed out?”

His head shook before he answered. “No, staying in tonight. I was up all night composing; it threw my whole day off.”

“Oh yeah, how’s that goi– ” The loud buzzing of your doorbell made you jump. That was the pizza. “Hang on a sec.”

You stepped back into your apartment to press the bell for the front door, telling Bucky he might as well step inside as you went to get your wallet.

“Are you hungry? I got pizza from Antonio’s. Have you tried them before?”

He thought about it and shook his head.

“Well sit down then and we can cross it off our list.” You smiled, turning around as you heard the muffled ding of the elevator from down the hall and waited at your front door for the delivery.

Bucky didn’t plan on spending his evening with you but he certainly didn’t mind the sudden change. He excused himself to go back to his apartment and turn off his lights. While there he cancelled plans with a girl named Rachel who would have been over sometime after midnight. She was cute but he really wasn’t feeling anything and truthfully between the lack of sleep he doesn’t have the energy to entertain her.

When Bucky came back you had the pizza set up on the table beside some plates and napkins. “Not sure what you wanted to drink,” you stated, opening your fridge and letting him choose what he wanted.

Together you settled down on your couch, with Bucky holding onto the beer as you raced up again to grab a coaster. He chuckled to himself as you bounced back beside him, taking a sip of the soda that you splashed with a little rum.

“See, it’s like I went out tonight,” you chuckled, raising your glass.

As Hocus Pocus ended you let him flip through the channels to find something to watch. There was an abundance of Halloween movies on and Bucky gasped when he found the perfect one.

“You’ve seen Psycho, right?” He smiled when you nodded. “Okay, but you haven’t seen it with me so you’re really in for a treat.”

Bucky sat up straighter, excited for the start of one of his favorite movies. It took less than ten seconds for him to start breaking things down to you, and not in a pretentious way you’ve been accustomed to by men before. Though you didn’t know Bucky for that long you could immediately see a change in him. His eyes lit up, filled with wonder as he began to describe the score.

“Right away we’re hit with unnerving music playing over the opening title sequence, with the text literally being dissected. It’s audiovisual foreshadowing in its most beautiful form. It really sets the tone for the film.”

All throughout the film Bucky would interject facts that you loved to hear, especially since every word was laced with passion.

“Have you noticed something?”

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be noticing,” you said, smiling at him while grabbing another slice.

“The score. It’s all strings. It’s beautiful. You know piano might be my favorite to play but strings…” he sighed happily, “Those are my favorite to compose.”

As the movie continued you couldn’t help but glance over at Bucky, watching the way he would sometimes shut his eyes and listen to the score alone, his mouth tugging his lips into a content smile as he appreciated the music.

When the infamous shower scene came on Bucky tapped your arm, practically scrambling to talk about the score again.

“Herrmann designed the score in a way where the shrill notes of the strings represent the blade stabbing Marion even though you don’t see it. That’s the power of music.”

Bucky turned to the screen to watch the score play out over the scene and when it was over he suddenly remembered he was with you in your apartment and not back in college where his rants on music analysis were welcome.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, you probably just wanted to watch the movie and I’m ruining it because I can’t shut my damn mouth.” Fingers ran through his long hair as Bucky let out a stressful sigh.

“No, Bucky it’s okay really. I liked learning about that, it’s not something I ever really thought of before.” Your smile washed away his worries and Bucky thanked you for letting him ramble on.

When the movie ended you and Bucky continued to lounge on your couch, finding another one to watch. Feeling a chill run down your back you grabbed the fuzzy blanket and draped it across yourself, extending the material to Bucky in case he was also cold. With the comfort of the blanket and pizza filling your sated stomachs, neither you or Bucky realized you had ended your evening by falling asleep.

You awake with a groan, reaching your hand up to your neck as it stretches uncomfortably. Blinking your eyes a few times you noticed you weren’t in bed and your couch didn’t feel normal. Sitting up and stretching you finally cocked your head and realized why; you weren’t sleeping on a cushion.

Bucky was asleep on your couch in a half sitting up, half laying down, one-hundred percent uncomfortable position. It wasn’t unusual to have a man sleeping on your couch as Steve had crashed there in the past, and occasionally you had fallen asleep on him but Bucky was not Steve. Yet somehow it didn’t seem as awkward as it should have been. Maybe it was the way Bucky bared his musical heart last night but you felt like you understood him on a new level.

Quietly you got up from the couch, gently placing cups and dishes in the sink making sure they didn’t make a sound. You threw away whatever garbage was lying around, setting the pizza box aside and then finally made your way to the bathroom. You forgot to lock the door and hoped he wouldn’t wake up. Sleeping on Bucky was one thing but you’re not ready for him to burst through the door as you’re peeing.

“Shit. Did I fall asleep here?” Bucky rasped as he woke up not long after.

“Yeah it’s alright. How’s your neck?” you asked just as his face scrunched together while stretching.

“Not the best.” Bucky looked around, seeing your bed covers thrown in the same position he recalled from the night before. “D-did you sleep here too? I mean on the couch, I know this is your place,” he chuckled somewhat nervously.

“Yeah, sorry if your arm’s a little numb. I think I slept on it.” You grimaced as he shook the pins and needles feeling away.

“I feel terrible imposing like this. Let me make it up to you. Breakfast at my place? I make the best omelettes. Five stars, I promise.”

His head tilted down to reveal big, blue eyes that begged for forgiveness. You couldn’t say no if you tried.

“Sounds good Bucky.”

You agreed to come over in a half hour as Bucky wanted to take a shower to really wake himself up first. As the warm water sprayed against his aching muscles he frowned, wondering why he was upset at the momentary loss of your scent surrounding him. This was… weird and Bucky decided not to give it further thought, figuring it comes with the territory of having new friends.

Sunday’s were the only day you had for yourself; no work, no internship, just a full day you could spend however you wanted. Breakfast with Bucky was worth spending some of that time on. Not only were his omelettes as delicious as he said they would be but you really enjoyed his company, even after spending most of the night together.

“Steve you look amazing!”

You beamed as he walked into your apartment, twirling around slowly so you could get a good look at his Robin Hood costume. He set his bow down on your table, asking to help adjust the straps of his quiver containing his plastic arrows.

“So you think you’ll find your Maid Marian tonight?” you smirked, adjusting the hood attached to his green tunic.

Steve chuckled under his breath, ignoring you and quickly changing the topic. “You look heavenly,” he said teasingly.

You raised your palm, belting out an angelic sound as you looked up towards the large silver halo hanging above your head. For your Halloween costume you were going as an angel, wearing a long pleated white dress adorned with a sequined straps and feathery white wings that stuck out a few inches past your shoulders.

“My feet are going to kill me,” you stated, slipping into a pair of glittery platform pumps you haven’t worn since attending your friend Nakia’s wedding last year. “But it’ll be worth it.”

Wanda was dressing up as a devil, probably perfecting her scarlet lips as you speak. She was going to meet up directly at the bar along with Sam who would be coming straight from work. Clint and Natasha would be traveling with you and Steve, and Bucky… well he didn’t exactly RSVP for tonight’s hang out. He said he would try to be there and you hoped he would. It’s been a while since the whole group was together and you missed the fun of that dynamic.

A knock on your door had you clacking your heels against the wood floor as you stride across the room. Steve cocks his head at the immediate burst of laughter he heard.

“S-Steve...”

You’re barely able to get his name out as you walk further into your apartment, face tight with laughter and then he sees it... Clint’s costume. Steve’s head tips backwards immediately with laughter as his hand goes to his chest, unable to contain the sight in front of him.

Clint was dressed, or rather undressed as Princess Leia in her prisoner outfit. A green bra adorned with golden accents stretched across his pale chest and the skirt was cut high on his legs, revealing they had not seen the sun in years, or maybe ever. He wore cowboy boots to complete his look, twirling the gold chain that hung from the choker around his neck, grinning widely at Steve who could not catch his breath.

Natasha strode in behind him as the sexiest Han Solo you’ve ever seen in a simple white shirt and black vest, knee high boots over slim blue pants. They looked amazing together but Clint obviously won between the two.

Locking up you looked over towards Bucky’s door, debating for a moment to knock and see if he would come out. You hadn’t heard much noise through the wall so you let it go and headed towards the elevators with everyone.

“Wanda! What the fuck?!”

You stared at your best friend wearing a costume that was not what you had planned.

“Didn’t you get my text?” She tucked a freshly colored strand of hair behind her ears, a deep cherry red that make the white hat bearing the red nursing cross symbol of her costume stand out even more.

You shrugged off your bag to grab your phone and check, muttering under your breath how mad you would be at yourself if you missed her text.

“Wait, stop.” Wanda halted your actions as you held your phone. “I didn’t text you. I’m so sorry Y/N. I didn’t want you to be mad at me but I really wanted to go as a nurse.”

“Wan, I wouldn’t have been mad.”

“It’s just that Sam is coming from work and I thought it would be cute… to match him.” She tried to hide the blush that dusted her cheeks.

You teased her a bit more, asking if she and Sam are gonna actually do something other than flirt with each other.

“Well, maybe tonight we can change that.” She smiled, with a hopeful twinkle in her eye.

“I hope so. Sam would be a total ass if he didn’t make a move, just sayin’”

“Speaking of asses, Clint’s is hanging out!” She pointed towards him laughing, “I cannot believe he wore that!”

The night was fun as you danced and drank with the girls. Sam arrived later than you expected but Wanda lit up like a Christmas tree. He wore blue scrubs (a fresh pair thankfully as he began to describe a trauma that came in earlier) and he was equally surprised to see her costume.

“If you came in lookin’ like that we would have had to put a lot of people on life support!”

Wanda and Sam went to get a drink together leaving you and Natasha alone to dance. Clint was sitting in a booth and you scanned the room for Steve who you thought was with him.

“Oh my god!”

You turned Natasha around, to point at Steve in the corner talking to a beautiful Daenerys Targaryen. You had seen a few of them tonight already, some wearing the blue and gold dress from Qarth and another as Daenerys if she were a White Walker, but this one caught your eye.

She was shorter than Steve but stood tall holding her shoulders back. There was something regal about her and not just because she was dressed as the Mother of Dragons determined to finally set sail to Westeros. You couldn’t hear their conversation but you could tell that Steve was hooked on every word, captivated by the way she spoke, watching him look to the floor with embarrassment after she flashed her smile at him.

A woman with short blonde hair dressed as Cersei Lannister came up to them, handing Daenerys, who was obviously her friend, a drink. Steve politely introduced himself, though it was clear he only had eyes for his Khaleesi.

“What’re we looking at?”

The hot breath of a voice tickled your bare shoulders and you turned ever so slightly to find Bucky’s face right beside you.

“You made it!” you exclaimed, wrapping your arms around Bucky for a hug and he was careful of your wings as he returned the gesture.

“Hey neighbor, or uh neighbors,” he laughed at himself greeting Natasha. “Why are you staring at Steve?”

“‘Cause I think he’s actually flirting with someone for the first time in over a year!”

Bucky smiled as he saw how happy you were for Steve. You had a big heart and it was one of the reasons Bucky really liked you– your friendship, he corrected his inner thoughts.

Natasha walked back to sit beside Clint leaving you and Bucky together. You finally take a look at his costume; a black leather jacket and white t-shirt, cuffed jeans and high top Converse sneakers. His hair was slicked back and pulled into a bun, not the right length to really style as Danny Zuko but everything else made it obvious.

You followed him as he went to the bar to get a drink and got yourself another. He raised his voice over the loud music, “So how many people have asked if it hurt when you fell from Heaven?”

“Surprisingly not too many. But someone did grab my hand and said they were ‘touched by an angel.’”

Bucky scowled. “Who grabbed you?” He started looking around the bar, flaring his nostrils as he scanned the room, as if he would magically be able to tell.

You placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him. “It’s okay, Steve and Clint took care of it. I think Clint scared the guy more to be honest.”

A smile cracked on Bucky’s face again. “He’s pretty brave. You wouldn’t catch me in that.”

“No you look like more of a Luke to me, like literally you kind of look like a young Mark Hamill.” You smiled as Bucky laughed, protesting your claim. “No it’s true. If your hair was shorter I could totally see you pull off an awesome Luke Skywalker.”

“Cut my hair? Hmm, I don’t think so.” He shook his head quickly.

The two of you went to the table with Natasha and Clint and the four of you were soon joined by Steve, whose eyes might as well have been in the shape of hearts by the expression he couldn’t shake.

“What’s her name?” Clint cooed, leaning his elbows on the table and resting his hands under his chin.

A deep smile spread across Steve’s face as he slouched into the chair, his body becoming jelly at the sound of her name leaving his lips. “Peggy. Peggy Carter. Agent Carter actually.”

Peggy was a British Intelligence Agent who worked at the Consulate in New York. Steve looked over her contact information on his phone and even though she was a few feet away from him he couldn’t wait to see her again. He had taken enough of her time away from her friends, Carol, the Cersei who he just met, and the group they were supposed to have joined though Steve and Peggy’s extended conversation kept her occupied.

“Those might as well be Cupid’s arrows huh, Robin Hood!” you teased.

Natasha smirked, “Speaking of Cupid…” She directed everyone’s attention to Sam and Wanda having a full on makeout session in the middle of the dance floor.

Clint roared loudly at them which they may not have heard over the music, but either way it didn’t seem like anything would stop their lips from separating, even the need for air. At least Sam was a doctor, he’ll know what to do.

Everyone seemed to break up into groups. Sam and Wanda were still inseparable, Clint was with Natasha posing for pictures, Steve met up with Peggy again and you couldn’t be mad about that, which left you and Bucky alone.

It was nice to catch up with him again. Between developing programs for The September Foundation and interning at the hospital and Bucky working to meet a deadline you hadn’t seen much of each other in the last week.

“Must be fun though,” he commented, while discussing your new duties at Stark Industries.

“Maybe it would be if I wasn’t so intimidated,” you half-joked, laughing before you took a sip of your drink. “I’m surrounded by– ”

“Buuuccckkkkyyyyy!”

The familiar sound of a woman whining his name interrupted you. A creepy tingle ran down your spine as you remembered where you’ve heard that exact whine before– through the walls.

A redhead wearing hardly anything runs up to Bucky and clearly they have been well acquainted before. She ignores your presence completely as she wraps her arms around him for a hug, pulling him away from you. In doing so you missed the uncomfortable look on Bucky’s face.

“Dot. I didn’t know you would be here.”

“Same. If you told me we coulda matched Buck. I’d be the Sandy to your Danny.” She lifted her chest, pushing her breasts out even more than they already were.

“And what are you supposed to be?” Bucky wondered out loud, looking up and down at the lingerie she was wearing.

Dot scoffed. “I’m the witch from Hocus Pocus.”

Bucky sort of saw it; the purple lace up corset and sheer skirt, cut specifically to show more skin, with the lacy green robe. Her red curls were sort of shaped into Winifred Sanderson’s similar hairstyle but Dot specifically let a few tresses fall beside her face.

“I put a spell on you and now you’re mine!”

She sang every note off key and Bucky tried to stop his face from looking like he was going to throw up. It was nothing like the way you sounded that night you were singing carefree in your apartment. Bucky turned around to plead with you and help him get rid of this girl but you were nowhere to be found.

With Bucky’s attention clearly taken you decided to get another drink and there you ran into Bruce. You knew him from work as one of Tony Stark’s top scientists. You had run into during the R&D meetings you attended with Maria but tonight he looked great as Doc Brown from Back to the Future.

“Some of us science bros wanted to dress up accordingly,” he chuckled softly, pointing out his friends dressed as other famous fictional scientists, Dr. Frankenstein and a mashup of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde.

“That’s amazing!” you laughed, beaming a wide smile that caught Bucky’s attention from across the bar.

You looked really happy while talking to that guy and Bucky didn’t want to interrupt. Just like Steve, he knew you hadn’t given yourself much time in the past to meet someone so if this was your night to get lucky he didn’t want to take that away from you, even if he would much prefer to continue hanging out. Dot grinded against him and Bucky let her, leaving shortly after as she made some bad comment about “riding his broom.”

After speaking with Bruce you caught up with everyone who seemed ready to go home.

“Where’s Bucky?” you asked, looking around for him.

“I think he left with some girl,” Sam said, half paying attention, giggling as Wanda wiped some of her lipstick off of him.

“Oh,” you said, deflated.

Walking out of the bar you draped your jacket across your shoulders and protruding wings, wondering why you felt so hurt that Bucky hadn’t said goodbye. It was rude but you don’t know what you expected.

Before you even knew Bucky you knew this is what he was like, sleeping with half of New York so you shouldn’t be surprised. Yet when you got home, just before getting into bed you stared silently at the wall you shared, feeling a single tear slip down your cheek.

PART 9

[soundofseventeen]

13 Days of Christmas (Yoon Jeonghan)

Hi! Not much to say but I hope you enjoyed Erin’s update! And this is one of my favorites that I wrote! I’ll see y’all tomorrow! gif credits to owners!

Word count: 2699

“There it is,” you said, gently placing your fingertips against the glass, “Jeonghan’s Christmas present.” It was neither grandiose nor revolutionary but you could guarantee that that record player would light up his face the moment he saw it and it was worth it. You could already picture him buying a table specifically for that and his little collection of records happily on the side. You felt the goosebumps making their way across your body hearing Jeonghan’s vocals as he sang along to his favorite songs. 

Joshua, on the other hand, didn’t look too amazed. “It’s nice…Y/N, it’s really nice, but isn’t the price...a bit much?” He loved his friend, he really did but the thought of spending so much money on him was enough to haunt his daydreams. But then he figured that if ever found someone that would spend as many Christmases with him the way you and Jeonghan did, then maybe he’d understand. After all, you were already dating when he met Jeonghan, but he surprised himself when he saw he got along with you as well, being neighbors and all.

“Joshua...for Jeonghan, too much is never enough.”

“But when was the last time you bought something for yourself?”

You kicked your foot in the air to show him your kicks. “Uh, I bought these four months ago, remember?”

“Yes...I told you to either buy them or I would. You had to justify buying a new pair even though they had a hole on the toe.”

“Not everyone can inherit a family business, Mr. Show Off. Now, are you gonna help me wrap that thing when I get out of work?” You cleaned the prints with the sleeve of your sweater paw, ridding the smudge on the window. You tapped the pocket of the small zipper of your mini backpack, making sure you brought the money with you for the umpteenth time. All your tips and extra cash you had leftover went to the record player. And if the owners had a set schedule, you would’ve bought it and taken it home with you a long time ago. 

“And when are you getting your camera? Don’t you miss taking photos?’

“I can always wait for my next birthday or when I’m not drowning in debt.” You remembered all the unopened film you had at home.

So why are you buying something this expensive for Jeonghan?”

“He deserves it. He’s been working so many hours lately and even though he’s dead tired, he still makes time for me. Honestly, that over there-” you pointed to the antique, “-is nothing to compared to everything he’s done.”

“And you don’t work enough hours?” He had never seen a couple like you and Jeonghan, so young and in love and always putting each other first. It sickened him sometimes and he usually had to be realistic for the both of you. 

“Pfft, I’m pretty sure I’ve been slacking just to make sure I get by. That’s what happens when I decide to get sick..” you mumbled the last of your ranting so he wouldn’t hear you. Getting sick around this time of year hadn’t been an option and it still happened and it made you hate your immune system for making you suffer.

“Why not just move in with Jeonghan already to save costs? You’ve been together long enough.”

“I don’t think we’re ready for that yet,” you admitted. It’s not that the thought hadn’t crossed your mind before; it’s just that there were other things you wanted to do and get on your own before taking that next step.

“Okay so you spend all your money on him...and vice versa, you spend all your free time together, you pretty much spend weeks at each other’s places AND you’ve been together since the dawn of time...but no. Moving in together is too much of a commitment.”

“Oh hush before you make me late for work. Come on. I have annoying customers to attend to. Hopefully, they’ll be generous enough to leave me good tips.”

“‘Tis the season to be jolly,” he raised his coffee cup in a toast and sipped it.

*

“Isn’t she a beaut?” Jeonghan asked Seungcheol on his way to work. He sighed longingly at the Polaroid on display, wanting and wishing so desperately he’d be getting paid today just so could buy you your present right now.

“Very pretty,” he whistled. “I’m sure Y/N will love it.”

He nodded, still remembering the broken-hearted expression you had when you realized that you had forgotten it at the bus stop and he swore he’d buy you another one as soon as he could afford it. “I hope so. Y/N deserves all the good things in this world and I’ll try my hardest to make that happen.”

“You know I keep thinking that maybe one day you’ll realize that you’ll both be happy once you move in together.” 

“We’ve talked about it but we’re not ready for that.”

“So you’re just gonna settle for buying yet another ridiculously expensive present.”

“Y/N needs this. Trust me.”

“And I need someone to help me pay rent because living alone sucks.”

“Didn’t Soonyoung have an opening available?”

“You really want me to have a stroke, huh? Last time he had Seungkwan over at his place...I had to help him scrape noodles off the ceiling.” He frowned. “And Minghao wasn’t pleased about the food stains on his book, so I had to give him my copy.”

“New plan, get into a relationship.”

“Yeah, that’s easy for you to say. You don’t have to worry about all that shit.”

“I got lucky,” Jeonghan shrugged nonchalantly. He turned his attention back to the vintage camera. “That’ll prove it.” He had slowly been saving up for that Polaroid for you, stopping by weekly to give a downpayment, and with this week’s paycheck, you’d surely be getting it tonight.

“Man, you guys are gross,” Seungcheol gagged. “Making me feel lonely with my single ass. Let’s go, Romeo. Otherwise, the only thing you’ll be getting is a pink slip.”

“I really hate Soonyoung,” he grumbled. “He got to be one of Santa’s elves and I’m fucking Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer.”

“And I’m a cashier who has to hear sob stories and threats over discounts that aren’t included with the shit they’re buying.” Jeonghan wasn’t sure if the tears were real or not, but he couldn’t blame him either way.

*

You walked out of the bathroom, still wondering how the smell of coffee made its way into your street clothes. You stuffed your uniform into your backpack, grateful to be out earlier than expected but trying not to think about how you were gonna make extra money before the rent. Tips weren’t too bad but you felt a little guilty for hoping for more. You’d find a way to manage; you always did. 

Your coworkers wished you a happy holiday, as well as thanking you for the gifts and then you went next door to wait for Joshua since he texted you that he’d be leaving soon. The secretaries at the law firm didn’t give you a second glance other than greeting you. They were used to seeing you by now so they let you wait there. Luckily, he hardly kept you waiting so you were back out before the door even closed. He chatted about the potential clients and the ones who stuck out to him. You didn’t know how many cups of coffee he drank on the way to the antique store, but he never seemed jittery. But you guessed it went to you since you were buzzing and speeding up and rushing him to get there faster. You finally left him about half a block away to run inside to get someone to help take the record player to the register to pay the owner.

However, when Joshua caught up to you, you were frantically digging through your backpack looking for the small zip-loc that had all your savings for it. “Where is it?” You dumped everything out on the counter, hoping it’d be mixed in with your uniform or your wallet or anywhere else. “Joshua,” I can’t find it.” You tried not to cry, thinking if you went back to the restaurant, it’d be there in your locker, waiting for you. “I’m sorry, can you just keep this on hold for me? I left my money in my locker at work. I’ll be back with it as soon as possible.”

“I’m sorry, but if someone else wants it, we might have to sell it to them,” the owner said apologetically.

“No, please. I have the money. It’s for my boyfriend. That’s his Christmas gift. I’ll be back in an hour, I promise.”

*

“What do you mean I’m not getting paid?” Jeonghan asked his boss in disbelief.

“No, you’re still getting paid...it’s just delayed a couple of days. And that’s my fault for not seeing that I was overdrafted from one of my payments sooner.”

“And all my coworkers?”

“Are in the same position as you. I-It’s out of my hands.”

“Can’t you just give it to me in cash, sir? It’s an emergency.”

“My daughter just deposited everything that we made today. Jeonghan, I’m truly sorry. How else can I make it up to you?”

“It’s fine. Forget it.” The rush of emotions left him conflicted as he drove home. He didn’t have a backup plan for something like this. He just assumed that after work today, he’d be able to buy you your Christmas gift with no problem. He was pissed that it didn’t happen like that. He knew that banks messed up all the time but he couldn’t believe his luck. He promised you the greatest gift in the world, and now would he provide that? He threw your towels in the washer, knowing you’d want to shower after you got back from visiting your friends at Mingyu’s place. He tidied the room a little, looked for your slippers and made sure he had some ramen in case you came home hungry.

He went back out to the living room, car keys in hand, when he laid his eyes on his records...his most prized collection. A lot of them he had been buying since he started earning his money, and some he got for a really good deal. He always promised himself that one day, he’d get himself one just to be able to play his music. And then when you crossed his mind, he pictured you with the Polaroid in your hands as you took the pictures and in one swift movement, picked up the records and headed out.

*

You never understood how Jeonghan managed to tangle himself up in you but you never complained about it. If anything, you welcomed it because it was just something you liked...unless it was scorching hot and his body heat radiated off of him. “Hannie,” you called him softly. “Hannie, wake up.”

“Five more minutes, my love,” he mumbled. “I’m tired.”

“But Hannie, it’s Christmas! I wanna make you breakfast.”

“Stay with meeeeeee.” He sleepily pressed his lips to your cheek, not quite processing your words.

“Come on. You can sleep in the living room.”

“Jagi, can you make me pancakes?”

“Yes, come on. And take your blanket too so you’ll stay warm.”

“Can we stay in our pjs too?”

“Go nuts.”

He didn’t need his blanket because as soon as he turned on the TV, he woke up and flipped through the channels excitedly, looking for anything that hinted at his childhood. He looked under the Christmas tree, only two presents, a sure sign that they’d gotten older. His heart clenched at seeing his gift to you, which now looked like nothing compared to the one you wrapped for him. He didn’t wanna dwell on that. It was Christmas, you were here with him again and it was perfect. Breakfast too. He loved hearing you humming in the kitchen, and making small talk. He met you on the table but you shook your head and went to the living room and sat on the floor. You patted the spot next to you and you watched the movie playing in silence. You looked like you were in a good mood, and he couldn’t complain. And then you mentioned opening presents and he felt the nerves turn icy in his veins.

“Okay. Do you want to open mine first or do you want me to start?” He didn’t give you the chance to speak since he handed you your and he waited.

You took your time unwrapping it, trying to figure out what he could’ve gotten you. “Is this what I think it is?” You finally decided to tear it open, and you tried not to cry. “It’s a...Polaroid,” you said quietly. You could feel the lump in your throat, touched at the fact that he got it for you. “Thank you.” 

“I know it can’t replace your old one, but I know you missed taking photos. Here, why don’t you take one of me while I open yours?”

“I think I’d rather just capture the moment as is.” You leaned closer to him while he unwrapped his, nearly helping him because of your excitement. 

“It’s a record player,” he said in the same voice you just used. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, I know how you’ve been dying for this and it’s what you deserve. Now, why don’t you put one of your favorite albums so I can hear your beautiful voice?”

He surprised you by taking your hands in his. “Y/N, do you know how happy you make me and how I’ll do anything to see you smile?” He kissed your hands when you nodded and continued. “Yesterday, I wasn’t able to get paid, so I had to sell my records to get your Polaroid.” He didn’t need to tell you that he had to stop at several places because many of the owners didn’t offer the prices he needed to buy it for you.

“Jeonghan, why?” he wiped away a tear that had fallen. Your heart broke at his sacrifice and you felt so selfish.

“Because I love you. Now start taking pictures and hang them up everywhere you can. Your photograph...why are you crying? Jagi, please don’t cry. You're more important to me than those. I can always buy more.”

“Jeonghan, I sold all my film to buy you this record player,” you admitted. “I lost the money I saved up for it and they were gonna give it to someone else. You love music so much and it was the first thing I thought of.”

To your surprise, he started laughing so hard his own tears started falling and then it was your turn to wipe them. “Baby, why would you do that for me?”

“Because I love you. More than anything, even my stupid hobby.”

He didn’t know what else to do, so he grabbed your face and placed kisses everywhere he could until he just held you close to him. He rested you close to his heart, content despite everything. “Man, we’re just a couple of fools, aren’t we?” 

You didn’t answer him, the steady beating of his heart matching with yours. You still couldn’t believe that he loved you this much. And you loved him just as much. You’d already known that you were gonna spend the rest of your life with him, but this just solidified any doubts you may have had. 

“Jagi?” He tried again.

“Hmm?”

“I know this is long overdue and we’ve only talked about this a couple of times, but would you just move in with me already? I don’t know if I can handle being apart from you much longer. It doesn’t to be right away-”

“How about after the new year?”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Jeonghan, after what you did for me...how can I say no? Besides, it took us long enough, right?’

“I love you...so fucking much.”

And I love you...just as fucking much,” you said, placing a soft kiss to his lips.

[anistarrose]

I’ve Been Working on a Unified Theory (Gravity Falls One Shot)

Summary: Stan stumbles across the evidence Dipper has been collecting throughout his search for the Author, and he isn’t pleased.

Word Count: ~1500

Warnings: brief mentions of death

Title is from Touch-Tone Telephone by Lemon Demon! An optional subtitle could be the next line, “If I make it through tonight, everybody's gonna hear me out.”

“Ugh, my stomach’s all rumbly and grumbly inside,” Mabel groaned as she flopped down in the grass in front of the Mystery Shack. “Do you think Grunkle Stan will let us order pizza?”

Her words went in one of Dipper’s ears and out the other as he buried his nose in the journal, squinting as he tried to make out the text in the one intact corner of a mostly torn-out page…

My assistant took…

to me beaming an…

his anxiety. H…

destroy bad…

“Mabel, we’ve got to get inside!” he gasped. “I have a magnifying glass in my room, I might be able to make out a couple more letters…”

Mabel sat straight up. “There’s a break in the case?”

“There sure is!” Dipper took off running for the Shack, stomach churning with the thrill of a new discovery. “I can’t believe I never noticed this…”

He threw open the door and barreled straight into Stan, who grunted with surprise as Dipper’s head struck him in the stomach. He recovered quickly, looking from Dipper, to Mabel, and then to the journal in Dipper’s hands, all while wearing a disapproving glare.

“There you two are. I’ve been meaning to have a chat with ya, you see?”

“Sorry, Grunkle Stan,” Dipper told him as he caught his breath, “but there’s something I really need to investigate as soon as I can! We can talk after —”

He started to head towards the stairs, but lighting fast, Stan blocked his way with reflexes that were just plain unfair for a man in his sixties to still have. He crossed his arms as his scowl intensified, and nodded in the direction of the Shack’s public wing.

“I want to see you in my office now — both of you, but especially Dipper.”

Mabel shot a Dipper a confused look, which he read loud and clear as: Do you know what we did?

He shrugged and shook his head. I’m as lost as you are.

Stan coughed, and tapped a non-existent watch on his wrist. “I said now, didn’t I? Not an hour from now?”

He stormed past the twins and began to walk towards his office, and Dipper supposed they had no choice but to follow him.

When they reached the office, Stan motioned for them to sit down, and from behind his desk pulled out a large, flat object, covered in newspaper articles and yellow string held in place by thumbtacks. At the top, two pieces of cardboard spelled out a titular question:

WHO IS THE AUTHOR?

“What the — hey, that’s mine! What were you doing in our room?”

“I was going,” Stan told him, “to fix the window you two keep hitting golf balls through, because — and I dunno if this is news to you or not — this is, after all, my house. But here I find this thing, straight out of an awful alien movie —”

“What’s the problem with it? Some of us are visual thinkers, okay? All I want is to investigate a few —”

“Dipper, what’s the one thing you promised me you’d stop doing this summer?”

Dipper sighed. “Go looking for trouble with the Journal.”

“This investigating —” Stan waved a hand at the board. “Is what I call looking for trouble.”

“Look, Grunkle Stan,” Dipper began, “I’m sorry about that promise, but… can’t you just trust me — trust both of us a little more? We’re going to be teenagers in barely a month, and we know how to look out for each other!”

Mabel nodded her agreement, and Dipper went on: “I know the Journal has some dangerous stuff in it, but even though it gets us into… dangerous situations sometimes, it gets us out of them, too!”

“Yeah, like with the zombies!” Mabel chimed in. “Sure, it kinda caused that problem, but also it fixed it!”

“Please, Grunkle Stan,” Dipper begged. “I’ll stop looking for monsters and artifacts and all the really dangerous stuff, but you’ve got to let us keep looking for the Author. We’re getting so close, and the Journal will keep us safe, I promise —”

“Did it keep the guy who wrote it safe?”

A hush fell over the room, like no one had quite been ready for what Stan had just blurted out — Stan himself included.

“What do you mean?” Mabel finally asked.

“I did skim through the thing, you know.” Stan crossed his arms and fixed his gaze below Dipper’s eyes, on the golden hand emblem splayed across the journal’s cover.

“I saw how it started, with a smart — maybe kinda eccentric, but a smart, mostly rational guy doing serious, smart-guy research. Drawing pictures of the new monsters he found, sleuthing out a mystery or two. Not too different from what you’re doing right now, really.”

He took a deep breath, still not meeting Dipper’s eyes.

“And I saw how the thing ended, too — rambling about secret codes and being watched and saving the world or losing his life in the process. Either he went off the deep end, or there really was someone after him… but either way, what happened wasn’t good, and now? Now, your Author’s gone.”

“He can’t be gone for good,” Dipper replied automatically. “He’s got to still be out there, and I’m going to find him —”

Stan raised a hand in the air, palm facing Dipper. “Stop. Just — stop.”

He was silent for a moment, before letting out a long, slow sign. “Dipper, I’m sorry. I know I sound like I’m mad at you — and I am, but that’s because I can’t bear to imagine you getting hurt. I don’t want whatever happened to — to this ‘Author’ happening to you.”

He turned towards the bulletin board and unpinned the paper at the center — the one showing the dark silhouette with the question mark, its head circled in bright blue ink for emphasis.

“This man set off just like you, trying to solve all the mysteries of this messed up town. And just like you, he was too curious to mind his own business — maybe he read too many detective stories as a kid, too. But at the end of the day —”

Stan slapped the silhouette down on his desk.

“He just ended up as another mystery himself. Just a case to be cracked, just a thumbtack on a bulletin board of conspiracies. Not a real person with a name, not a person with a family —”

Stan froze mid-rant, and then slowly lowered his arms to his sides.

“I just — what I’m trying to say is — Dipper, Mabel, I don’t want you kids to become mysteries this summer like the Author did. I want you to become teenagers. I just want you to not go missing, to not wind up dead, before you reach your birthday and head home — and if I’m being completely honest, some days? Like when the zombies attacked? I’ve been real scared that you weren’t gonna make it. That the unknown fate of Dipper and Mabel Pines was just gonna be a mystery that well-meaning nerds obsess over a couple decades down the line. And I — I dunno what I’d do with myself if I let that happen to you two.”

He finally met Dipper’s eyes. “I know you’re too stubborn to really let go of that journal and give up on finding the Author,” he said. “Trust me, I know. But can you at least try and learn from his mistakes?”

“I’ll be as careful as I can next time,” Dipper answered.

“I hope you mean it,” Stan told him, already having turned his back on his way out the door.

Dipper did mean it — mostly.

***

Stan was especially cautious on his way to the basement that night, triple-checking that the kids were asleep and that the gift shop was empty before he punched the code into the vending machine as should have been routine. He winced at the six-fingered handprints on the dusty walls of the passageway — how they’d survived thirty years undisturbed, he wasn’t sure — and contemplated just wiping them away once and for all, despite knowing he could never seriously bring himself to do it.

He can’t be gone for good. He’s got to still be out there, and I’m going to find him —

He sat down at his desk and retrieved the first two journals from his bookshelf — the ones that he’d checked with a blacklight a few nights ago, only to find warnings of cataclysmic destruction and a desperate plea to never to activate the portal again.

I know you’re too stubborn to really let go of that journal and give up on finding the Author.

The portal’s hum faint yet ominous like the distant roar of an impending storm, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.

“Stanley, you goddamn hypocrite.”

***

End notes:

When I listen to Touch-Tone Telephone, I tend to imagine the first “I’ve been working on a unified theory/If I make it through tonight everybody's gonna hear me out” as being from Ford’s POV while working on the Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness, and the second one as being sung by Dipper as he investigates Gravity Falls and tries to figure out what happened to the Author, so it was really only a matter of time until I used it as a fic title. Also, “I try and I try and I try to make you listen to me” always makes me think of Dipper and Stan’s conflicts over the supernatural and Dipper’s “looking for trouble,” which takes center stage in this fic.

Anyways, thanks for reading! Reblogs/feedback are appreciated as always!

[systemofabreakdown]

The Pay Slip Chronicles

Things haven't been better. Last Friday a lady accidentally touched my back at work and I started panicking. It was around half an hour before work was done, and I only started feeling better after I went home. I went home and to my room and ate a bread and tried to calm down... I started whistling and was about to head downstairs to start doing chores when I glanced out the window and mom was there. She shouldn't be. It was 15:30. I started panicking again. My stomach hurt and I felt dizzy. I knew mom would think I was avoiding her if I didn't go downstairs. But what if she heard me whistling and thought I was actually feeling okay and only really lying about feeling anxious to get away from everyone? I was scared and frozen by the stairs. My girlfriend was chatting me and told me to stay there for a while. I sat down. She did a grounding exercise with me. By the end of it I was feeling better. Not good, but less terrible... I had to go downstairs. So I went. Mom asked me for my pay slip. I was confused at the sudden request. She told me she went to the city hall to find out a way to get rid of all the loans she has, and said that they told her, if she could prove that the amount everyone living in the house isn't that much, she might be able to borrow 200k so that she could hire a lawyer that would go through a process to tell the government that she indeed has no conditions to pay what she owes, so her loans would get cancelled. Suspicious. I was worried. She went on. She said that if she was able to do that, she would get rid of her loans and in turn for that she'd be put in a sort of blacklist that would make it impossible for her to buy things or make credit cards for seven years. "But that's okay" she said. "That won't affect you or your dad or sister, and I don't wanna buy anything anyway. Besides, from now on I want to only buy things with actual money". Didn't sound too good. Not after she made a credit card in my name without even telling me. Not after she got loans with it and now I owe money and I don't even know why. Not after she took all of my money from me for years while I worked hard thinking I could go study and was saving for that. But I was also worried for her. Seven years. She can't know what will happen. Can you really get away with that?? So I suggested, and I did so very calmly, I said "mom, but sister technically still lives here too, and she earns a lot". Mom suddenly changed from a Look At This Brilliant Solution I Found stance to a Oh You Think I'm Against You stance and got defensive. She said "yeah but I talked to them and they said it's okay since she doesn't Actually living here or paying our bills, so we don't need her pay slips". And that doesn't really fit. All my life I've been in trouble after trouble because people will not only want to make it very hard to help you in any way at all, they will also believe in pieces of paper more than in you. That's just how it is. But mom thought she knew better so I suggested "well, I don't even earn enough to help pay bills so then you don't need mine either". And she got really mad. She went on angrily about how she's doing it "for us" and how "only she will suffer with that" and how "she doesn't care to damage her own name for the sake of the family" but still, it seems like I think she wants to harm me specifically. She ended the "discussion" with a "but it's okay, keep it for yourself and I'll just tell them you didn't have a pay slip". I had literally no money at the time because she took everything so honestly, I had nothing to hide from her in my pay slip. It wasn't what was bothering me. But she did say "keep it for yourself" so who am I to refuse? I was already stressed and tired and anxious so I just went straight up to my room and tried to not think about it. On Saturday I spent most of my time in my room because mom was home and being anywhere near her or dad makes me anxious. I had to see her though, when I went to refill my water bottle. She was being her usual passive aggressive self from after she gets mad. I just tried to quietly get my water and go away. She stopped me to say a few things. Told me there was a hamburger for me if I was hungry and told me she was going to do yoga in the kitchen. I wasn't hungry and definitely wasn't about to go prepare myself a meal in front of her while she did yoga. It's already a lot of work to keep quiet being in my own room. I just nodded and went back to my room. Later in the afternoon she shouted from downstairs that she was leaving for her classes. I went downstairs after hearing her car going away and had a toast with cheese, took a shower, came back to my room. Next day I only went downstairs to refill my bottle but mom told me to eat because she had just cooked lunch. I grabbed a piece of fish and a little bit of rice. Sat by myself at the table. Mom started ranting about the pay slip again. Saying how she was really upset at me and at how all of her plans could go wrong and it would all be my fault and saying how she would be even more upset if that happened. I just kept eating. She then started looking for other things to complain about. The usual. Until... She angrily remarked how I have to tell her when my shampoo is over because she doesn't use it so she wouldn't know. And I snapped. I couldn't even reply. I started gesturing angrily. I didn't tell her my shampoo was over because first of all, it wasn't near over the last time I used it because when the bottle was half full, Someone added water to it so tada, it was full again!!! She got angrier and went like "what is it now" I managed to say "well... it's just... that You... have told me... to use... Your shampoo... not Mine" She started defending herself like "well yeah it's because mine is good". That doesn't even make sense. That doesn't even justify her being angry at me not telling her about my shampoo. It's pretty clear that she didn't have real reasons to be mad at me, she just Wanted to be mad at me. She was like "anyway you don't even have a reason to be mad so what? Do you think you have authority here now?? Do you think you can go and live on your own now??" And just... what??? I tried saying how I wouldn't be "so mad over this tiny thing" if she actually didn't keep accusing me of thinking she wants to harm me or if she didn't try making me feel guilty and bad about pretty much every single thing I ever say. She went through the talking of how much she does for us and how reasonable it is that she is in so much debt to begin with. Yeah. She thinks that her making loan after loan to buy things she didn't need and to buy new clothes for my sister so that she would treat her better until she was so screwed up that all her credit cards were blocked was very reasonable because she was depressed and not working at the time and "wanted to do something for all of us". Which honestly she didn't. All these years, all I saw her do was buy thing after thing on the internet for her or for sister. Clothes. Bags. iPods. Tons of supplies for a large array of things such as sewing supplies, jewelry making supplies sweet deco supplies, even now the entire house is filled with all of those things because she would spend tons on supplies for one thing, use a little of it and just never do things again. She spent tons on Herbalife. Not even just shakes and supplements, she'd get bags and accessories and pay for tickets to go to events far from here, she even went to South Korea with money she pulled from gods know where. We went foodless several times and she stopped paying the house bills correctly because she just "didn't have money" but if she found one thing she wanted? She'd get it. But sure, she thinks all of those things are completely reasonable and she doesn't deserve being buried in debts for all of that. But fine, she said. "Like I said, I'll just tell them you didn't have a pay slip". I didn't feel like I could say anything at that point. Whatever I say has always been used against me so honestly, I'm not a quiet person for no reason. I finished lunch after that and went back upstairs. Had to come back to refill my bottle after a few hours. They stopped me. Mom said "so where the hell is your pay slip". Oh so suddenly not only she changed her mind, she also didn't care wether I wanted to give it to her or not. She went through the whole talk about the pay slip yet again. Now with more of Look At How Much I Have Done For You Your Whole Life And I Have Never Done You Any Harm. Hah Dad joined in. Started telling me of how he heard me get angry over the shampoo thing and how unnecessary my aggressiveness was. How I was getting worse and couldn't even articulate words properly anymore and how I am always angry. What. At some point he said "I know you have read about schizophrenia and you know how it works and what it does and how it turns you against even the people who are close to you, and we have been understanding about it because we know that it is hard for you, but you have to know your position in this home". I asked in a snarky tone "hah what position". He was like "exactly". He went on about how I have to tell my doctor how "I need help because I have been aggressive towards my loving parents without reason". He went on about how I "need to get cured" I said "well, most people don't get -cured-" And he went on for one hour with his mansplaining of how I was wrong and how everything I have read about it was wrong. I was tired. Anxious. Nauseous. I started to dissociate. I missed part of what he and mom were saying. Probably wasn't worth hearing anyway. When I started to come back, dad was telling me how things in my head might feel real for me, but everything is made up and I don't know what's real and what isn't. My memories are fake. My beliefs are fake. My thoughts are twisted. My judging is wrong. Then we went back to mom's drama over the pay slip. I was starting to get dizzy. I just went up and got them the damned slip. It was past my meds time. Mom was crying about how "she misses me and she wishes she could touch me and she misses the person I was before. The affectionate girl who always wanted to be with her". I was once starved for physical contact. I would try hugging her or holding her hand. She always shooed me away. She always told me it wasn't the time for that. It was never the right time. She asked me if I was "really that tired" and if I couldn't "spend more time with her". I just shook my head. Couldn't even talk at that point. I went to sleep. Getting back my pay slip after she went to the lawyer was another drama. If I didn't ask for it she probably wouldn't even have mentioned it again and would just keep it. Turns out... They didn't even need my pay slip.