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#or any time I see a girl on campus with orange hair (there’s a ton idk why) I have to react by thinking ‘she in ha mood’
spicysucculentz · 6 months
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idk if my other neurodivergents out there can relate to this but I have like a built in soundboard of random shit that I say just without thinking anymore. New stuff will occasionally get rotated in and out. The big one right now is trump in that “who the hell is ice spice” video where he says “I like it” but also Austin powers “oh behave” and that one monty python bit of the guy insinuating stuff “wink wink nudge nudge say no more” my poor friends have to listen to me react to every conversation with something like this
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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years
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Rebuilding Family
Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader
Masterlist
Chapter 3
“Hey buddy,” Spencer sat down in the chair next to Henry who was coloring at the table after dinner.
“Hi Uncle Spencer,” Henry replied, switching his orange marker out for a green one.
“So Josephine seemed pretty cool,” Spencer started.
He wanted to know more about his possible kid before going to Y/N. If it was true and she would let him meet her, he wanted to know all about her.
“Yeah, she sits at the same table group as me in class. One time when we were playing tag at recess, I fell and hurt my knee but she kissed it three times and said that’s what her Mommy does when she has a boo boo and it didn’t hurt anymore,” Henry explained.
“Does she talk about her Mommy a lot?” Spencer asked.
“She loves her Mommy like sooooo much. She says her Mommy says she doesn’t need a Daddy because her Mommy loves her extra,” Henry smiled.
“That’s nice,” Spencer said, getting up from the table.
Spencer was glad to hear that Y/N and Josephine seemed to be having a good life. He was just saddened that it didn’t include him even if she wasn’t his kid. He didn’t blame Y/N for not telling him if it was his. He honestly would have had no idea how he would have handled that news back then.
-
“And that is the difference between a stressor and a trigger. Any questions?” Spencer slid his hands into his pockets as he looked out into the audience.
The students were silent. Most of the girls appeared to be in a daze but still looking at him. Spencer furrowed his brow.
“Okay well then, I will see you next Monday. We will be covering chapter four section three of your textbook regarding victimology so I would suggest skimming it over before class,” Spencer finished.
He grabbed satchel from the desk and quickly exited the lecture hall. He had looked up the class schedules in the administration office and Y/N was also finishing a lecture at this time. Spencer was hoping to catch her before she could run away again.
He quietly slipped into the back of the lecture hall, taking a seat in the last row.
“Okay! That is it for today. Remember, we have a lab next class so closed toe shoes only and long hair tied back please. Have a great day, everyone,” you announced.
Students began to file out of the room, some coming up to your desk with questions so Spencer hung out in his seat a little longer. Once the last student had their question answered, Spencer got up and made his way to your desk as you were packing up your things. When you heard the footsteps, you looked up with a friendly smile that was immediately replaced with a grimace.
You grabbed your bag and keys and bolted. However, Spencer was expecting this and was hot on your tail.
“Y/N, please slow down. I just want to talk,” he pleaded as he chased you across the campus, garnering funny looks from people passing by.
You sighed and halted your movement. Spencer was not expecting this so he almost crashed into you. You took a step back to regain your personal space.
You looked around, noticing some people were staring.
“Let’s go to the coffee shop on campus,” you suggested.
Spencer still remembered how you took your coffee after all these years and insisted on paying even though you told him that wasn’t necessary.
You both sat down in a quiet booth in the corner. You were nervously fiddling with the coffee cup sleeve and avoiding eye contact.
“I-Is Josephine mine?” Spencer asked.
You could feel his eyes burrowing into your skull. You couldn’t lie to him, I mean you could but you wouldn’t get away with it because he was a profiler.
You finally looked up and made eye contact, “Yes, she is,” you stated.
Spencer smiled softly with tears brimming his eyes.
“Did you know before I Ieft?” Spencer sniffled.
“No, I found out after,” you responded.
Silence fell over the both of you.
“Why did you break up with me, Spencer? It all happened so fast that I never got a reason. We could have made long-distance work if you actually cared,” you spoke softly.
“Y/N please do not doubt that I cared about you. I loved you, I think I still do after all these years. I just thought you would be better off without me holding you back and not having a lot of personal time to visit you. It doesn’t mean I ever stopped thinking about you. I just thought you deserved someone better,” Spencer explained.
“Yeah well no one wanted to date the single mom in college. Guys would run for the hills when I told them,” you chucked sardonically.
“I’m sorry” is all Spencer could manage to say.
He thought he was doing Y/N a favor by breaking up with her but instead he made everything worse. He abandoned her to figure out how to take care of their child on her own.
“Can I-um...I would love to get to know her more,” Spencer stuttered.
“Spencer, I don’t know if that’s the best-” you started to say.
“Please,” Spencer begged.
You closed your eyes and exhaled.
“You can come with me to pick her up from the school if you want. You can play with her for an hour with my supervision. Under no circumstances are you to tell her that you are her father,” you demanded.
“Understood,” Spencer nodded.
You finished the last sip of your coffee and slid out of the booth, tossing it in the trash can.
“Let’s go,” you motioned for him to follow you.
Spencer scrambled out of his seat to catch up with you.
You unlocked the car and you both hopped in. Spencer noticed the backseat of your car had random toys and articles of children’s clothing scattered around and he smiled at just the thought that they belonged to his daughter.
When you pulled into the school parking lot, you turned to speak to him for the first time since he entered the car.
“You stay here,” you said as you turned the car off.
Spencer watched as you approached the line of kids and a genuine smile grew on your face. Josephine ran over to you and was immediately scooped up and littered in kisses. Josephine was dressed in overalls with a dinosaur sweater and a mini pair of converse. Y/N whispered something in her ear and she nodded as they made their way back to the car.
“Jo, you remember Spencer, Henry’s friend?” you opened the car door.
“Hi Josephine!” Spencer greeted.
Jo snuggled herself closer into your neck.
“Why are you being shy today, Baby J? Remember you already met him? He told you all those cool dino facts. Maybe he can tell you some more on the way home,” you bounced the child in your arms a few times before gently placing her into the car seat and buckling her in.
“Josephine, I remember you said stegosauruses were your favorite. Stegosaurus actually means ‘roofed lizard’ and their brains were the size of ping pong balls,” Spencer was looking at the child through the rearview mirror.
He heard the sweetest little giggle. The sound was music to his ears.
“Mommy, did you hear that? They have ping pong balls for brains,” Jo laughed.
“Yes, baby, I heard but I think Spencer said they were the size of ping pong balls, not actual ping pong balls,” you smiled as you corrected her.
Spencer turned around to face her now that Jo was feeling more comfortable.
“They also weighed about two tons which is about the same weight as this car,” Spencer smiled.
“Woah,” Jo exclaimed in awe.
“Okay! We’re home! Jo, you can play with Spencer for a little but then we have to do your ABC’s homework,” you explained as you parked the car in your driveway.
You lived in a small grayish blue house. It had a tiny gated backyard but you usually just took Jo to the park anyways. It was enough for the two of you. You moved in last year after accepting the job at Georgetown.
You unbuckled Jo and unlocked the front door with Spencer awkwardly standing behind you until he felt a tug on his sleeve.
“I want to show you my room,” Jo said.
“Sure! I would love to see it,” Spencer replied as he was tugged by Jo up the stairs.
Spencer laughed when he saw Jo’s bedroom. It was decked out in everything dinosaur. Dinosaur wallpaper, bed sheets, toys, and a carpet.
“You really love dinos, don’t you?” Spencer smiled.
Jo nodded, beaming as she seemed to be very proud of her room.
“Jo, I’ve got a snack for you,” Y/N called out from downstairs.
The little kid lit up even more and ran down the stairs, leaving Spencer alone in the room. He saw a small little bookshelf with picture books, mostly about dinosaurs. It was nice to know his daughter shared his love of reading.
“You have a lovely home,” Spencer complimented as he entered the kitchen.
“Thank you, I don’t know if you want some apple slices and peanut butter too. I would offer you something else but I haven’t had time to go grocery shopping this week,” you explained.
“It’s all good. If you ever need help-” Spencer began.
“We’re quite alright,” you snapped.
A silence fell over the room, even Jo picked up on it and stopped the loud chewing of her apple.
“I’m sorry,” you sigh, patting the top of Jo’s head to tell her she could continue eating, “We’ve been on our own for so long that I can sometimes get a little defensive when someone suggests I can’t handle it.”
“I wasn’t suggesting that at all. I think you have done a wonderful job raising Josephine. But, I also had a single mom so I know that sometimes there just aren’t enough hours in the day,” he replied.
“Thank you,” is all you said.
Spencer glanced at his watch, “I should get going. My hour is up. If it’s okay with you, I would love to come over again sometime,” Spencer said.
“Leave your number and I’ll text you,” you replied, handing him a scrap piece of paper and a pen.
“Bye Josephine!” Spencer smiled at the kid who had peanut butter smeared all over her face.
“Ew, Jo! Did you get any in your mouth?” you laughed.
“Bye Spencer!” she attempted to wave to him as you were wiping her face and hands with a damp paper towel.
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outercrasis · 3 years
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Sessions
Pairing: College!Din Djarin x F!Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: None (let me know if I missed something!)
Summary: Everyone is talking about the mysterious new guy on campus
A/N: I had a ton of fun writing this extremely self-indulgent AU and I have plans to keep writing more about these two. It won’t be an actual chaptered fic, but at some point I’ll throw together a masterlist with a chronological order to things.
Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist
Introductions
The semester had only started four weeks ago and he was already a legend around campus. Almost everywhere someone could be found whispering about him. You'd even heard faculty speculating, wondering about the rumors they overheard their students sharing.
You first heard of him in your literature seminar, some of your fellow classmates discussing a recent rumor about the now fabled man. Something about a motorcycle and a child caught your ear, prompting you to interrupt and the girls in front of you who they were talking about. 
The looks you received from the pair were incredulous at best. “You mean you haven’t heard about him?”
“Heard about who?” you asked, genuinely confused. It had only been the first week of class at the time and you were too caught up with your own busy start to check in on the rumor mill.
“Mando, obviously. He’s all anyone is talking about.” From there the girls had happily filled you in on all the latest sightings and rumors. 
Mando, as they called him, was shrouded in mystery. He'd popped up on Corellia University's campus when the semester began and no one knew a thing about him. He hadn't gone to Corellia before, internet searches turned up nothing, and even the skull-like symbol on the back of his leather jacket wasn't familiar to anyone. Any information on him was conjecture at best and there was plenty to go around. Once the rest of the class caught onto what you three were discussing, theories began to fly.
People discussed how he’d been spotted downtown, beating on some guys in a back alley. He’d also been seen uptown the same night though, strolling through Basalt Park. One girl was nearly certain that she’d gone to elementary school with Mando, but he’d mysteriously disappeared one day without explanation. Someone else was confident he was just a cop trying some weird shtick to go undercover. Then one person insisted he had a kid with him sometimes while another was trying to explain that he was actually a murderer. The rumors only became more ludicrous from there.
By the end of the discussion you only ascertained two things for certain. He went by the name Mando and he wore some kind of special helmet. Information you could have gotten by watching him pick up a drink at the Java Hut. Not nearly enough to warrant this level of fervor in your opinion.
From there, hearing about Mando was inescapable. You got home that night only to have your roommate and best friend, Layla, launch into theories about him. Within the week someone set up a social media page to try and track his location around campus via DMs fellow students sent in. That had struck you as invasive and unsettling, but the messages about him kept flooding in.
By pure chance, you had yet to actually see him for yourself. There weren't even any creep shots for you to look at. People had been trying to take photos of him, but he was like a ghost. In the time it took them to pull up their cameras he'd disappear. 
There wasn't even more concrete information about him beyond what you'd learned that first day. Just more and more speculation, a good amount of it made up purely for the shock factor. Another week slipped by, the semester picking up, and Mando news became standard in your day. There was always something new going around about him and as much as you tried to avoid it and focus on your studies, you couldn’t help but wonder about him yourself.
Who was this guy? Was this all some stunt or ‘social experiment’ that would be revealed by a sociology student at the end of the semester? Or was he a legitimate peculiarity, doomed to stick out like a sore thumb? You weren’t sure if you should hate him for making a big deal out of himself or pity him for all the unwarranted attention. Either way, you were sure that whenever you met this enigmatic Mando, you’d know.
×××××
You grumble looking at the submission form. The name and student ID information is blank again. You told Todd last week those fields needed to be made mandatory. How else were you supposed to know who to email when you end up with a no-show for the hour?
Looking further down you're pleased to note that they're at least a grad student. Despite the unfinished form, graduates almost never skip sessions like these. You're thrilled to have the opportunity to discuss something other than freshman composition for once. It's fun helping the wide-eyed freshies, but you can only go over basic comma rules so many times before you start to lose it a little.
There's a knock at the study room door and you look up only to be rendered speechless. It's him. Mando. With a kid on his hip. So Alissandra hadn’t been lying when she told you about the toddler she saw with him. Interesting. Continuing to take him in, you can’t help but focus on the obvious - the only thing you knew about him other than his supposed name, the helmet. 
It’s unlike anything you've seen before. You're fairly certain it's a motorcycle helmet, but it's been modified. Rather than the typical rounded shape, his is all sharp angles and flat at the front. It’s colored a sleek, shining chrome that gleams under the washed out fluorescent lighting. Most arresting is the way he's changed the face of the helmet. The cheeks dip inward at a sharp angle, creating deep, curved contours. His visor is a T of black glass in the center, entirely impossible to see through. It's intimidating and… kinda hot?
The little boy he's holding starts to wiggle in his grasp, physically demanding to be set down in the study room. Once his feet touch the floor, he immediately runs over and climbs into the chair next to you. He's a welcome distraction from his father’s? brother's? guardian's? commanding presence in the room.
The boy can't be older than three, smiling up at you with a wide toothy grin. His hair is covered by a green beanie with large floppy ears sewn onto it and he's wearing a little brown jacket with a sherpa collar. Maybe a bit too heavy for the early autumnal weather, but if the rumor that the kid rides on a motorcycle with Mando is true, it’s perfect. His eyes are large and brown, shining up at you with a slightly mischievous glint.
"Hello, what's your name?" you ask, smiling back at the child.
"Grogu," comes the reply, not from the kid, but from Mando.
You arch an eyebrow at him. He can't be serious with that name. "Grogu?" you ask.
He shrugs, placing his bag on the table. "I came home one day and he told his babysitter that was his name now. He won't respond to anything else. So, Grogu."
You look back to the bouncing toddler. He's still grinning, nodding along with what's been said about his name. They must not be lying then. Either that, or it was some elaborate prank between them and you would never be in on the joke. 
"Well okay, Grogu it is." 
You extend your hand out to Mando, offering your name alongside it. He offers a leather clad hand in return, giving you a firm handshake. You're pleased when he only gives your hand a gentle squeeze, not crushing it like so many other students have done. His gloves are unique as well, black with orange fingers, the leather well worn in. It's warm to the touch, his body heat radiating through the thick fabric. 
"Mando," he says, officially introducing himself as he takes the seat on your other side, across from Grogu.
"Mando," you repeat, cementing it as a truth from the rumor mill. "Got any other names?" You hope that comes across as casual and not intrusive. He hasn't even gone to remove his helmet, telling you he isn't a man who cares much for people prying into his business.
"No. Why?" Mando cocks his head slightly as he asks, the helmet adding an exaggerated look to the movement. He reaches into his bag, pulls out some crayons and a pad of paper, pushing them over to Grogu.
You shrug, trying not to think about how you heard his name might be David from someone in your composition course. "Just thought I'd ask. One hears many things around campus and it's hard to tell what's true or not."
"What do you mean?"
That question makes you pause. Surely he knows. Part of you is still convinced he’s doing this act on purpose, trying to gain notoriety for some reason. The way he asked though, something about it tells you that the poor man is clueless about the buzz he's caused.
"Mando, you're like the talk of the town right now. We only just met but I've heard plenty about you," you explain. It's hard to tell with the helmet on, but you're fairly sure he's shocked underneath. Grogu ignores you both, excitedly scribbling away on his paper.
"I'm fairly sure most of it's just rumor and speculation, but still. You're like a thing around campus," you add.
He's quiet for a moment, his laptop only half out of his bag. "Oh," he finally says. "I didn't know."
Grogu gives a happy shriek not a second later, breaking the awkward tension that had begun to creep into the room. He's beaming, holding up his crayola masterpiece. On the paper there is what appears to be a hastily drawn frog using every color in the box.
Mando returns to himself, pulling his laptop the rest of the way and continues to get set up. "Great job, kid. It looks good."
Most people would have said that dismissively, a platitude to get their child to stop bothering them. When Mando says it though, the authenticity is palpable. He said six words and you can hear the pride lacing them all together. It’s sweet, the obvious affection this clearly private man has for the toddler. 
You can’t help but wonder what his connection to Grogu actually is. The way he spoke just then, if you had to put your money on it, you’d say father. The kicker then though is if he’s biological or not. And if not, then how else does a grad student get strapped with a three year old? Thinking about all the potential scenarios is enough to make your head hurt.
You’re also left wondering where all the more violent rumors about him are coming from. His tenderness is so readily on display that it’s hard to imagine the man before you choking someone because they cut him in line at the local froyo shop. He’s mysterious and gives off a vaguely dangerous vibe, sure, but less than five minutes around him and the kid and it’s obvious he’s no threat to you. He’s just a guy trying to get his assignments done for class, same as everyone else.
Your stomach still catches in your throat as Mando starts unexpectedly tugging off his gloves. From what you’d heard, he never takes anything off: not his jacket, not his gloves, and certainly not his helmet. All anyone knows of his true appearance on campus is that he’s obviously male with rumors flying around about everything else including simple attributes, like the color of his skin. Now, here he is, casually revealing this groundbreaking information to you.
His hands move fluidly, pulling off each glove in just a few easy tugs. His skin matches the heat you felt from them just minutes ago, a warm golden tan, with a few faded lines of scars worn in. Watching him type, pulling his paper up for you to discuss, you feel a deep and sudden ache to have his hands touch you again. A simple handshake is no longer enough. Every stroke of the keys is measured, deliberate, and leaves you wondering how he would use those fingers on you.
“This is what I have so far.”
His voice snaps you back to reality, a quick wave of shame washing over you. Where did all of that come from? It was just a man’s hands for heaven’s sake, certainly not something you should be horny about at two in the afternoon. Not to mention that he came in here looking for your help, not wanting you to start fantasizing about his hands expertly working you over.
You clear your throat and tear your eyes away from the offending appendages. “Great, let me just read the introduction here so I can get an idea for what you’re writing about.”
You settle into working with him easily. His paper is already well-written, just needing tweaks here and there to bring it to the next level. It’s nice working with him. He’s attentive, clearly listening to everything you have to say and taking it into account. He doesn’t even try to challenge you as some of the more macho male students are wont to do. By the end of the session, you can’t help but wish all of your time as a tutor was that easy.
“Thank you,” he says sincerely, tucking his laptop away. “You really helped.”
You smile at him, thrilled with his genuine complement. “Of course, that’s what I’m here for.”
He finishes packing up his and Grogu’s things, with you silently lamenting as his gloves slide back on. It still feels like a ridiculous thought, but he really does have beautiful hands. There’s a small tap on your arm and you look to your left to see Grogu patiently waiting. He’s offering something to you, paper outstretched in his little hands.
“Thank you,” you say, taking the sheet from him. You look at it to see a frog carefully drawn on the page. It’s not the same as the first one he showed you and Mando, this one more deliberate and thoughtful. The colors are still just as varied, but it’s obvious he took more time to think about where he was using each one. You can’t help but smile at his small masterpiece.
“It looks great, buddy. I’ll keep it forever,” you tell him. Grogu beams at your praise, excitedly looking over to Mando. 
Mando nods at the kid. “Yeah kid, I heard her too.” He turns his head towards you. “Thank you again. I’d take good care of that drawing. He’ll never forgive you if he finds out you got rid of it.”
“Does that mean I’ll be seeing you again?” Your own boldness takes you by surprise. You have no idea where that came from, how those words spilled without a second thought. Part of you is already cringing at Mando’s potential reaction.
He surprises you once again though, holding a hand out for Grogu to take. Shouldering his backpack, you hear an amused huff of air from under the helmet. “Yeah, mesh’la, I’ll see you around.”
There isn’t a chance to reply as Mando turns, escorting his tiny charge out of the room with him. You’re a little dumbstruck, now equally surprised with him as you had been with yourself. 
And what was that name he just called you? Mesh’la? You don’t even know what language that could have been, much less the meaning. Something about his tone when he said it tells you it’s a good thing though, that he’s not secretly calling you rude names in some unknown language. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever get to find out.
.
.
.
taglist: @honestly-shite
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slothgiirl · 4 years
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maybe together we can get somewhere (noah x mc)
the gang finds out noah is alive. he and mc have built a life together while no one was paying attention (12k)
this was fun and experimental to write, trying to build a relationship through the limitations of the gang only getting snippets of noah and mc and hopefully giving enough information to piece together a plot without being to expository. hope u enjoy (noah x mc are soulmates change my mind)
Stacy.
It's a family vacation. Only the second one after her college graduation since she's only living an hour from Westchester.
It's her mom and dad and Connor and his girlfriend and her girlfriend.
Sofi laughs easily, fitting right in at some story Connor is telling and Stacy’s still annoyed that her brother brought up what she and her friends had found in the woods as children when they were at the airport: when anyone could have heard. She doesn't want to deal with it ever again. And she'll get up and move across the country if she has to.
Connor catches her gaze and offers a small smile and just like that; Stacy let's it go.
“Oh a farmers market,” her mom cries out, “we should check it out!”
Her dad laughs, “alright but don't expect me to eat any frankenstein fruit.”
Stacy snorts, finding Vancouver both amazing, and like any other city she's been to. Canada is hardly an exotic travel destination, but it's nice, waking up to a view of the pacific ocean. She wonders if she should visit her old friend since she's in town.
She'd last talked to you on the phone a month ago, surely she could just drop in.
Sofi slides her hand into Stacy’s, before asking, “what are you thinking about?” It's the first time Sofia's really spent time with her family. And her girlfriend knows about her tendency to overthink and now is one of those times.
Stacy's sighs, “just-I have a friend who lives in Vancouver. I was wondering whether I should visit them or not.”
Her girlfriend smiles, leading them into a stall with lots of fruit samples, “You should! If they're your friend I bet they'd be really happy to see you.”
Stacy shrugs. “Yeah, I guess you're right. It's not like I'm going to be in Vancouver again anytime soon.”
She grabs a second sample of the blood oranges, before telling Stacy as she decides to get a few for the road, “so who is this friend?” Because Sofi doesn't know about the whole Redfield thing and she'll never know because Stacy doesn't want to burden her with Redfield and also doesn't want to talk about it herself. It's over: in the past. Finished.
“One of my childhood friends like Lucas. There was this whole group of us,” Stacy explains.
“Like Dan,” Sofi nods, understanding. “Do you guys still talk?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you should totally drop by! Personally, I could skip the biking tour.”
Stacy laughs, “my parents really just got us all the types of tour.” It was nice, how much things had changed and the boat tour had been fun even if she’d gotten pretty cold over those two hours, it had just been the perfect excuse to snuggle up with Sofi and a cup of warm coffee inside. Connor and Vy could be outdoorsy together, taking millions of photos of the water and skyline.
“It’s cute,” Sofi comments, “my dad would just grumble about the expense and lead his own tour, no doubt getting us all lost.”
Stacy shrugs, “that’s why we have google maps.”
Sofi laughs, and pays for her oranges.
Stacy’s tired of the crowded stall, so she steps outside to wait. Canadians may be polite, but there’s only so many people brushing past her she can take. She takes out her phone and asks Lily for your address because of course Lily has it; she had sent everyone care packages and birthday presents without fail. Stacy had just sent an electronic gift card and called it a day.
There’s a good crowd but this isn't a sad little farmers market like the one back home that has like nothing but a stall or two.
She finds that she does miss the small town feel of the city she lives in even if she has to drive everywhere and living close to her family is nice even if she’ll forever hate the woods, any woods. Andy and tom had confirmed nothing was out in Westchester but she won’t chance it.
It’s second nature to go through her emails while she’s on her phone.
She scans the crowd, seeing if she spots her family somewhere. And sure enough Connor and Vy are sniffing at some tea samples, looking disgustingly sweet together and Stacy makes sure to take a picture because she went with Connor and Tom to pick out the ring. He just has to pop the question.
Wait! Was she or Sofi going to ask the question? Oh god, Stacy wanted to marry this girl. It hits her like a ton of bricks and they’re only 23, been dating two years so they have time, but Stacy’s sure. This is the one.
The panic subsides as she realizes, yeah, this is the woman she wants to spend the rest of her life with and that’s no big deal. They’ll take it day by day.
She locks her phone, glances around, ready to go get Sofi who probably struck up a whole conversation with the vendors and is getting invited over to their house for dinner as Stacy stands out here, waiting, and sees. . .well not Noah Marshall because he’s dead. So that’s not possible. And it’s not like she’s in Westchester.
But-but it certainly looks like Noah at a glance.
She can’t actually make out the man’s features, just the back of his head, which wow-Stace, she might just be losing it if she’s starting to see Noah Marshall walking around, but there’s something about the way the man walks and the shade of hair even if the haircut has changed. . .she shakes her head.
She’s imagining things.
“Ready to go,” Sofi asks, putting her hand on Stacy’s arm, “Your mom texted, she said to meet in front of Whole Foods wherever that is. Also, hilarious that there’s a farmers market in front of Whole foods.”
Stacy snorts, nodding, “yeah, let’s go.” And then looks back because it’s been five years and she still wants to kick Noah’s ass even though he’s dead so it’s a non issue at this point.
The man’s gone.
*
Stacy soon forgets among trying to keep up with the itinerary that her family had made on google docs over the past few months.
*
They take a ferry in the general direction of the address Lily gave her because it’s a fun way to travel. Connor comes along but Vy stays behind in the hotel because she wants to call her parents.
“Did they go to school here,” Connor asks, because it had been a few years and he hadn’t really kept in touch with you the way Stacy and the others had.
“No,” Stacy explains as she double checks the address while Sofi points out cute houses as they walk down the street google maps is saying the house is on. “They went to UWash. I think they studied something boring like finance which I know Ava made fun of them in the group chat about.”
Sofi, a current law student, asks, “what’s wrong with finance?”
Connor snorts, “you’re talking about the same woman that helped organize supplies for her campus’ black lives matter protests.”
“Ava’s very anti-establishment,” Stacy explains because Sofi hasn’t met Ava. Her old friend had transferred to Berkeley before Stacy started dating Sofi, but not before showing everyone her minor magical abilities. “You know, the whole break up the banks, give native americans their land back, will definitely end up a granola anthropology professor in some university after her goth phase.”
Sofi nods, “Ah, I get it. She’s not wrong about the banks. Did you watch the big short?”
“You have the most boring taste in movies,” Stacy teases because this woman made her watch Dunkirk which was long and boring and the soundtrack gave her a headache.
Her girlfriend shrugs shamelessly, “I did do a film studies minor so. . .”
Stacy knocks on the door. “I hope they’re in.” It’s a cute if small house on the edge of the city, close enough to still be part of Vancouver without being in the middle of traffic. There’s a subway station just two streets over, but taking the ferry had been much nicer. Subways had lost their charm in new york after all the times Stacy had been an hour or two late because of some issue.
“Wait,” Connor asks, raising a brow, “you didn’t text them?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Stacy admits. She hadn’t seen you in over two years. You had even less of a reason to be in Westchester compared to everyone who’s family still lived there. Your house had sat empty since you left for college.
“I think it's cute,” Sofi says, wrapping her arms around Stacy’s waist from behind.
Stacy smiles, blushing slightly.
The door opens up and holy fuck.
Stacy gasps, her mouth forming a wide O because she can’t even form a coherent thought.
A very much alive and happy Noah Marshall opens the door, wearing a pink apron that says something inane “kiss the cook”, with more than a bit of food stains, and flour on his chin. He’s not wearing a beanie, but it’s summer and Stacy is sweating even in shorts, and his hair is cut and styled instead of long and greasy like it had been in high school. His eye color has somehow changed from brown to a strange shiny blue that seems too catlike to be natural but that’s whatever when he’s apparently risen from the dead.
What the hell!
Connor is just as flabbergasted as she is.
And Noah’s caught off guard, the easy smile dying on his lips as he realizes who’s at the door.
It’s Sofi that spares them, asking Noah if you’re home, because she doesn’t know anything about what went down in your senior year of high school.
Noah nods wordlessly, “yeah, yeah, come in,” even though he looks like that's the last thing he wants to do looking as grim faced as he had been in school, sitting in the back and refusing to talk to anyone.
For once, Stacy wishes Sofi wasn't here because she wants nothing more than to kick Noah’s ass. She took kickboxing lessons, she totally could. Noah's taller, but not exactly built in the same way Andy is after all the years of exercise; though he's not exactly a scrawny teenager anymore.
How long has this been going on?
You're sitting at the kitchen table, a cheap flimsy thing from Ikea that at least has the decency to look nice, laptop open while wearing a moth-eaten oversized t-shirt of the beastie boys. You don't even look up, when you ask nonchalantly, “so who was at the door?” You reach a hand from another chip, eating straight from the bag.
“Stacy,” Noah says faux cheerfully. And Stacy did not miss how annoying he could be. “And Connor Green.”
You finally look up. A couple thousand emotions running through your face: surprise as you open your lips to speak and then close it without a word, your brow furrows as you frown, then you exchange glances with Noah, then you're blushing red as you meet Stacy's questioning gaze, caught red handed. After a second, you can't meet her gaze, instead looking at Connor the same way you had that year as if he could single handedly save you from everything and no wonder you asked him to the dance, oblivious to Stacy's crush on you at the time.
“Hey Connor, long time no see,” you get up, crossing the length of the small kitchen to hug him, “Andy's always going on about you, you know.”  
Connor manages a smile, “it's good to see you, too.”
“Hi, I'm Sofi,” she says, extending a hand, “Stacy’s told me a lot about you.”
You shake her hand, inviting her to down sit, “all of you. Dinner’salmost ready.” You glance at Stacy asking. . .
She shakes her head. Of course she hasn't mentioned Noah. She's tried to erase him from her memories the same way she's tried to forget all about the ruins in the woods and Dan disappearing.
“Not that you helped,” Noah quips, proceeding to slip back into the kitchen.
“Self care.” You smile back, confirming her suspicion that this had been going on for a while. And you haven't mentioned anything. Not once. But then, you stopped bringing him up when you realized everyone was on the same page, the page you weren't, after what he had done, no amount of childhood tragedy could excuse the fact he had been willing to kill all his friends for some monster. Stacy couldn't find it in her to forgive him, even in death.
Meanwhile, you had spent too much time after everything that happened crying over this jerk.
“What are you making,” Sofi asks as Stacy takes a seat, everything clicking together as you offer everyone something to drink, exchanging lovesick smiles with Noah even as he bats you away from the stove with a spatula.
You loved him.
Despite everything he had done, you loved him. Stacy couldn't understand: had been closer to Dan and you than Noah even as kids. The way you looked at him said everything; the way you'd chased after him, unwilling to let him go into the woods alone.
It made sense why you were so willing to forgive him, and why you had spent so much time mourning him.
“Vegetable pot pie,” Noah explains, starting to roll out the dough, “This one decided to become vegetarian.”
“Since when,” Connor asks, deciding to just go along with it all. Maybe Connor was just mentally stronger, better able to cope with all the supernatural weirdness having helped Tom out at the lake, and still trying to understand the power from all of Pritch’s journals.
“Just a few months ago,” you admit. “It was this whole vegan challenge at work for the month but I missed yogurt a lot but giving up meat was pretty easy.”
“Where are you working now,” Stacy asks, taking a seat carefully, making sure not to turn her back on Noah.
“Oh,” you smile, closing your computer, resting your chin against your hand, “UBC, at the anthropology museum. It's why I-we moved here. I do financial analysis for their investments. Ava found it really funny that I got a job at a museum before her.”
“Oh,” Stacy wonders, glancing at Noah again, who's just as tense if the line of his shoulders is anything to go by, and the telling line of his mouth that reminds Stacy of the first and last time she tried to include him: a APUSH presentation that Noah had waved off and preferred to bomb. “You told Ava?”
She feels the sting of hurt but Ava makes the most sense considering you were closest to her and Lily. Not to mention Ava was still messing around with the occult. A heavy lead ball of anxiety always forms whenever Ava has shown Stacy her magic tricks.
You get the double meaning.
Noah pointedly ignores her, carrying a conversation about the best places to eat in the city with Sofi.
You force yourself to smile, “about the job yeah. Thought she'd laugh since she's the anthropologist. She called it the encroachment of late stage capitalism.”
“That sounds about right for Ava,” Stacy snorts.
You'd chosen Noah over her: over your friends. The choice had already been made before Stacy had even known this was an option.
You two were a packaged deal.
Stacy takes a deep breath, and turns her back on Noah, joining the light conversation of local things to do in Vancouver and how you had completely face planted while trying to ice skate.
“-and instead of helping me,” you tease, getting plates out for everyone, “Noah just sat back and laughed!”
“And took a video,” Noah points out. “You don't have any balance babe.”
“I wouldn't do you like that,” you wrinkle your nose, smiling fondly as Noah brings the food out of the oven, the smell filling the small house and suddenly Stacy’s mouth is watering.
“You have,” he replies all mock offended, “you left me in the cab!”
“I was very drunk,” you shrug shamelessly, then turn to Sofi and Connor with an explanation. “Too much fun on  date night.”
“Shut up,” Noah utters, placing the food on the table, looking incredibly soft and it finally sinks in. He's alive. He's alive and you're together and while Stacy doesn't care for him, she's glad you're doing well.
She's still going to punch him the first chance she gets.
The food’s some of the best she's ever had.
*
She hugs you goodbye two hours later: a great big tight hug that says everything she hasn't been able to because of distance. She puts all her love and tenderness into hugging you. “It was so good seeing you,” Stacy says and means it. One day they'll talk about this.
But not now.
She's dragging Sofi into this.
You nod, hugging her back just as tight, before whispering in softly into her ear, “please don't tell anyone.”
And how could she refuse, with your sweet chocolate eyes looking at her like that, as if she holds everything you hold dear in her hands. It's easy for Stacy to make the choice to look away and say nothing.
*
*
*
Lily.
Britney makes them take a hundred selfies before they even leave the airport. Lily beams at the camera even as she pays for starbucks. “Aw man we should've tried tim hortons now that we're officially in Canada.” Lily muses, shooting you a text, letting you know she'd soon be out of the airport.
“But do they have peppermint frappuccinos,” Britney asks, leading the way as they head to the exit. Airports were always so big. It took forever to get anywhere.
“I'm not big on peppermint,” Lily comments even though Britney already knows that, before taking a long sip of her pink drink. She really had been craving a drink. That was another thing about planes: dehydration. Still, it would be worth it to visit you for the first time since you moved to Canada.
“I know,” Britney winks, “that's just more peppermint bark for me.”
*
Britney's the one that spots you first. Lily's taller than you, but still pretty short. “Your loser friends over there.” Britney teases and it shows how far she and Lily have come that they're able to laugh about the time wasted in high school where she bullied other kids including Lily.
Lily follows on her heels, fixing her coat to try and look cute. It had only been a three hour plane ride but it was three hours plus dealing with airport security so it felt closer to three years. Gosh it had almost been three years since she graduated college. Time just flew by.
Excitement bubbles up and Lily’s smiling hard when she sees you in an olive green jacket and grey hoodie combo, still the same as ever if happier now that you weren't stressing about school.
She had meant to visit you sooner but being an adult meant things often got in the way.
Then Lily spots Noah Marshall hovering behind you, laughing at something you just said , face lit up like a kid who's just been told they can finally dig into their Halloween candy. Except it can't be Noah because he's dead. Yet here he is, wearing a black coat, washout blue hoodie, and of course a beanie. If Jocelyn was here, she'd say he looks like an asshole wearing aviators indoors.
Removing any doubt of who he is, Lily having already come up with a reasonable explanation of you having coped with Noah's death by finding a lookalike, dies when he spots Britney and Lily before you. “Lily,” Noah grins as if he didn't die after trying to kill her, “you looked like someone kicked your puppy.”
You smack his shoulder. “Behave,” you tease as you try and smother a gasp. You meet her gaze sheepishly, but Lily's still too flabbergasted to respond.
“Aren't you supposed to be dead,” Britney asks.
He deadpans, “Mandela effect.”
This time, you dissolve into laughter.
Noah glances over at you with a smile, pleased with himself.
Lily finally manages, “explain.”
You nod, “let's get you settled in first.”
Britney hands her bag to Noah, “here. I need to carry Lily's bag.”
“Sure thing,” Noah snorts, taking her bag.
*
Lily had imagined Canada to be much more green. Like a national park green, with so much plant life she could smell it thick in the air, but it's pretty much just another downtown metropolitan area like Seattle. You'd really only moved a few hours away from Seattle so that made sense.
She keeps glancing over at Noah as if he'll disappear and this is some trick from whatever thing still lived in Westchester. But he's still there, flesh and blood, his arm draped around your shoulder as they stand by where she and Britney have taken a seat, bags under their feet. They had only brought carry on bags.
You're obviously together but Lily keeps getting stuck on the fact that Noah's alive.
She isn't surprised. Noah only ever had time for you that year; both of you slinking off when you thought no one was paying attention. Lily remembers seeing you hug Noah in some lonely corner of the school if you didn't skip fifth period math.
And Connor had said he'd seen you both out in town during school hours.
Maybe it's the glasses.
Noah won't be alive to her until she sees his entire face, leaving no room for error.
“Can't believe you're moving to Seattle!” You repeat because yeah Lily had gotten a nice job offer there.
“Neither can I,” Britney complains, “I like SF, and I'd like to live somewhere warm one day. Aren't there any major tech firms in Miami?”
“Nasa,” Lily says thoughtfully, “I didn't have the experience to apply though.”
Her girlfriend frowns, “You went to Berkeley though. That has to count for like ten years.”
Lily laughs.
“You should've shot your shot,” you agree.
“Isn't Florida super humid though,” Noah mentions tilting his head, reminding Lily that he's there and she can't help but flinch. “And there's tons of snakes and agitators everywhere.”
“I like snakes,” Britney notes.
He had been so sweet those last few weeks, Lily thinks to herself. Noah was always saying how she was much stronger because she could be kind even as everything was going to hell. In english, she'd burst into tears, sick and tired of having nightmares just to wake up to a living nightmare, and he'd chased after her, comforting her.
It had made his betrayal hurt all the more.
*
“So how exactly are you,” Lily asks, dancing around the subject. Surely it was rude to bring up that Noah had been dead.
“Alive,” he replies, quirking his brow, holding Britney's bag as he opens the door.
“Yeah. . .that.”
This time, when you and Noah look at each other, there's no boundless joy that fits in perfectly with the holiday season. You've even put up snowmen in the house's windows, and there's lights wrapped around the porch: off right now. It's just you looking at Noah with glassy eyes and Noah with an amount of tenderness in his eyes that Lily didn't know people were capable of in real life: the look people get when they're finally able to confess how in love they are in movies.
It's only there for a second and then Noah's making light of the whole situation, as if he can't stand to see that haunted look in your eyes, “Well you know what they say, when you wish upon a star-”
You roll your eyes, lightly smacking his arm, then changing your mind and squeezing his arm. “Don't be a dick.” Then you round your attention on Lily, “there's the shoe rack.” Before ushering the group into the living room. “I-I didn't,” you take a deep breath, tugging your coat off as you take a seat on a cheap navy cotton couch. “I guess I never stopped looking for a way,” you glance at Noah, “for a way to fix things. I mean, I still went back there for all the school breaks.”
You've stopped looking at Lily, gaze locked on Noah's. Pink dusts his cheeks and he ducks his head, looking alway, out into the quiet street, skyscrapers in the distance.
Britney purses her lips, listening intently. She heard accounts of this nature from Jocelyn. Dan knee better than to tell her anything about the woods back home.
“And I found it,” you finish without elaboration. Lily understands. Some things were, there were some things too awful to speak once again into being.
He slips his hand into yours, threading your fingers together.
It's sweet and though Lily's reservations remain, it's clear he loves you.
“Okay then,” Britney claps together, knowing full well she was ruining the moment, “how soon can we go shopping. I'm doing all my christmas shopping in Canada.”
“Because of the exchange rate,” Noah sneers, not missing a beat.
“Hardly,” Britney snaps back, “I'm a certified trophy wife now.” She smiles as she looks over at Lily who giggles.
*
It's two in the morning and Lily keeps tossing and turning. It's warm with the heater chugging away in the night. But she can't sleep.
They'd spent the whole day out, exploring the city. You'd gotten a few days off work. Britney had made you both carry bags and bags of gifts as promised.
At least she'd have plenty of time to wrap them. December had only just begun.
But Lily can't sleep.
It isn't the nightmares of her childhood: of Jane and all the things she wishes she had said no to, or those terrible months in which Lily had nearly died from sheer terror, but a pool of anxiety masquerading as restlessness.
She gets up, having visited you before back in Seattle, back when you had shared an apartment with Ava and a revolving door of roommates during college, and wonders if Ava knows. Ava, who messes around in the more supernatural corners of the world, who you had always been closest too.
Lily gets up and decides maybe a glass of water will calm her down as she chews over the idea of Noah and her both under the same roof.
She slips into the dark kitchen, with that weird anxiety that she was sneaking around that she could never shake even knowing that you wouldn't mind her going through your kitchen. She slips into the kitchen and nearly faints at the sight of Noah at the table.
He's sitting in pitch dark.
Only it isn't-
“-your eyes,” Lily hisses, breaking the calm of the twilight hours.
Noah's sitting in the dark reading.
Because his eyes are glowing blue like redfield when she was little and redfield was a friend and hadn't shown it's true nature.
Noah's eyes are glowing.
“Shit,” Noah says gently, reaching up to flip the lights on.
He moves slowly, but Lily still flinches.
“I'm sorry Lils,” he says, those three words encompassing so many years and the darkest parts of her life, casting a shadow over her whole life she can never escape because Westchester is home but it's also where it happened and Noah's a big part of why Lily spent a year having panic attacks: having flashbacks to that awful game. He says it and the last itchy scab over the deep wound Lily has harbored for years flakes off.
Lily does a little nod of acceptance, but keeps her eyes on his unnaturally reflective eyes, a light in the dark.
She swallows thickly.
That glass of water sounds amazing right about now.
“What are you doing reading in the dark,” she asks. It seems Noah had been right all those years ago; Lily was able to keep trying, a flower growing in a crack of cement.
“Studying,” Noah says calmly. “It's pretty boring actually. Sort of makes me wish I was still haunting the woods.” His smile is small, testing the waters.
Lily-she can't. She shits her eyes, shaking her head once, slow.
“Sorry,” he says easily, shutting a thick textbook, “coping mechanism.”
Lily thinks about all those nights she'd wake up in the middle of a nightmare, “is it a glitch then?” She tilts her head curiously, the way she spent hours going over the same file of code checking for any bugs: and mistakes that had slipped through the cracks.
“You could call it that. . .but they reckon that it's more of a give and take situation.” He fiddles with the sleeve of his shirt. “The power takes people but gives them power, and when, when they brought me back, I took something with me.”
For once, dread doesn't fill Lily at the mention of what lies in the woods back home.
Lily nods, and pours herself a glass of water. “What are you studying?”
“Psychology,” Noah answer's, “trying to do developmental psychology. I want to,” he waits a beat before finishing in a rush. “I'd like to be a child therapist.”
“I thought you wanted to go to culinary school,” Lily questions. She remembers you mentioning that once. Then there's the fact that Noah had brought her lunch to school a few times when he'd learned that Lily's parents had forced her into a diet.
“I did,” he shrugs. “Turns out I like to cook for myself more than anything.”
Lily smiles.
She's glad he's able to move on like she has.
“You know I use to have nightmares. Nothing really helped apart from-.”
“Tiring myself out,” you both finish.
Noah smiles grimly.
Lily drinks he water and keeps him company for a while.
*
*
*
Lucas
Logically, Lucas knows that Canada is not that different from the states yet he still feel like the place should be more exotic as he steps off the plane for work. It's grueling work really, the pay is bad and he flies economy more than is healthy for his back, but he likes keeping private corporations on their toes. That was the whole point of environmental science, though going to law school for the same thing is starting to look more and more appealing everyday.
He just feels like he doesn't have the weight to truly go after these people and hates having to pass off the cases when he knows he could do more.
But law school is. . .stressful.
He'd have already started his third year of law if he had just gone straight to law school after undergrad.
Lucas wonders if he's ready to manage that type of stress.
He gets off the plane and has to go directly to the non-profits office. It's a tiny little thing in a rougher part of the city; gone are the shiny sports cars and whole foods.
There's boxes of paperwork dating back from the 60s and he gets to work, drinking the cheap donut shop coffee that the office head, an amicable black man who still has a rhythmic african accent that Lucas isn't worldly enough to place, gives him with a shrug, “got to support our local businesses eh?”
Lucas nods. “Tell me about it. I feel like I missed out on the New York that was happening.” Ava had sent him a buy back the block patch and he really hadn't been surprised because she had always been opinionated and headstrong about it. If she was the town witch, well then she was going to be the biggest baddest witch.
He types a reminder into his notes to get her a souvenir.
He uses yelp to find a cheap diner, where he continues to pour over a thick manila folder--have to break up the work--and finds that he can smell the ocean here even when he can't exactly see it.
Lucas sets a reminder to himself to go enjoy the beach at least once.
Then he sees the reminder to call and ask Stacy where you were living. Lucas half wanted it to be a surprise, but worried he'd miss you.
He knew you liked going out dancing. And he had arrived on a Friday night.
It was unorthodox.
He usually worked strictly in the states since each country had their own laws and environmental precedent established by the courts. And alright, Lucas’ phone had a lot of law school tabs open. He was only twenty four. That wasn't too old for law school.
Weren't some students in legally blonde in their thirties?
Experience could give him an edge.
Lucas calls Stacy but it goes straight to voice mail.
Right, time difference.
He'd have to wait until tomorrow.
Having not exchanged any money as of yet, Lucas pays for his breakfast for dinner with his card and hopes the fee isn't too bad. Then he stuffs the folders and decides to walk to his hotel.
It's an hour long walk through town but years of being incredibly stressed had left him with the purposeful choice of slowing down when he could. Sometimes it felt like forcing himself to slow down, but he always felt better after a walk through a new city or sitting down with a fictional book even when he swore he didn't feel all wound up.
As far as cheap diners, tonight's was good and he had fun trying poutine.
Lucas walks through the tall buildings and wishes he hadn't worn a suit jacket. He should've worn a plain shirt or one of those gag gifts Andy was always sending him from various thrift stores. It might be further up north than even he grew up, but it was still hot in the summer.
Walking an hour in a casual suit was not his greatest idea, but the city carried the same vibrant energy the new york had. The energy that had encouraged Lucas to go to a house party--once.
He's walking by a street full of dive bars all blaring out nostalgic hits from his teenage years from Hannah Montana, which okay, to Kesha which sounded about right, and of course, Blackpink. The chalkboards outside all promise cheap drinks but Lucas isn't a big drinker.
He isn't sure how much of that is avoiding any substance that could get him hooked or if he's making that choice because he really doesn't like alcohol.
Lucas is just about through, about to by a monolithic building that has a bunch of displays in the windows, when he does a double take.
Noah fucking Marshall is smoking on the curb outside a bar, face flushed.
There's no doubt about it. Lucas would know that asshole anywhere. The same sharp jawline and prominent nose, brown hair curling around his ears only a few inches showered than it had in high school. He's wearing dark jeans and a black leather jacket over a white shirt and looking way too happy for a murderer.
Noah Marshall wearing aviators at night like the rat bastard he is!
The intense feelings of rage and wanting to hit something until the world righted itself surges in Lucas’ chest until there's a white hot anger in his throat and red clouding his vision.
He blacks out.
One second he's furiously gapping at the man-
the next
-Lucas is standing over Noah Marshall, knuckles on fire having just sucker punched the fucker.
Oh shit.
Noah looks just as surprised for a second as he looks up, blood beading up where his lips split open.
Lucas watches as recognition hits those bambi blue eyes---wait, blue.. .?
And then Noah shrugs, the ghost of a smile forming on his lips as he states, “yeah. I deserved that.”
There's a couple people looking over.
Lucas is still pissed as Noah gets up, dusting himself off and looking at the barely smoked cigarette on the ground as if he wants to smoke it, before grabbing the glasses and placing them back on instead.
Then, he grabs another cigarette, “want one,” he offers Lucas who no, wouldn't want one: wouldn't want anything from Noah if he was drowning and Noah had the only life jacket.
He was good with drowning.
Thanks.
Lucas, anger still fizzing under his skin like boiling water, asks, “how the fuck are you here!”
Noah shrugs, before slurring and it's then that Lucas realizes the other man is flushed drunk, “I live here,” without an ounce of sarcasm.
“You know exactly what I mean,” Lucas says, curling his lip and crossing his arms over his chest.
“Oh you know me. I'm just plotting world domination and decided Vancouver would be the perfect location for my evil villain lair. I've got a neon sign and everything.”
Lucas rolls his eyes, grinding his teeth together. “Do you always have to be such an asshole?”
Noah spreads his hands out and proceeds to do jazz hands, before taking a drag of his cigarette.
Fuck, Lucas feels like punching him again.
He's really thinking about it as he watches Noah, sure the idiot will try something again, when he hears your voice as you stumble out of the bar, “I knew it! You were going out for a smoke break!”
Noah's entire demeanor shifts, no longer the boy Lucas has built up in his head as the cause of all their problems. Over the years, he's decided that Noah had known from the start. In the depths of his denial, Lucas had told himself that Noah had kidnapped Dan. But, you appear, and Noah's turns bright pink as he hurried to stomp out the cigarette you've already seen like a naughty school boy, even as he turns and smiles as if you hung the sun in the sky and painted the night stars. It's lovesick the way you both look at each other with the fondness of ancient couples out for a walk in the park, lost in their own world.
However the fuck he's alive, Lucas realizes that this Noah, the real living Noah, has been just as freaked as the rest of them. It's something he hasn't thought about in years.
Noah had lost Jane.
It's enough for Lucas to unclench his hands even if he's still seething because what the hell, he still offered them all up on a silver platter. Redfield or Jane--whatever it was in the end--had given Ava powers and she hadn't stabbed your group of friends in the back.
You cross the distance quickly, and throw your arms around his middle, tipsy. That's probably why your smile is so pure-untouched by all the trauma and boring adult problems like remembering to pay the bills and having to call the cable company for the fifth time.
You don't even notice Lucas.
“What happened to your face,” you ask, raising your hand to cup Noah's cheek, frowning.
Noah nods over at Lucas.
You finally notice him.
“Lucas,” you wag your finger at him, still cuddled up to the man in question, “You can't punch Noah. Do you know how much trouble I went through to get him back?”
It shouldn't be possible, but Noah turns pinker.
“Aw babe,” Noah teases you with a familiarity that carries depth.
This wasn't a new development then.
“You really do care about me.”
This time, you round on Noah, wagging your finger menacingly, “Don’t be an idiot! Of course I love you. You're the best thing that ever happened to me!”
Which has Lucas majorly side eyeing you.
Sure, Noah had grown up to be tall and not unattractive, as far as pasty white boys were concerned, but he'd still tried to kill everyone.
Noah also looks skeptical.
“What are you doing in town Lucas,” you then ask.
“Work,” Lucas replies blandly, as he tries to come to terms with this reality altering discovery. “You were dead.”
“That's not entirely true,” Noah muses philosophically, “Physically I was dead but technically I was still roaming the woods as a monster.”
Reflexively, you interject, resting your hand on his chest, “you're not a monster.”
“I thought you liked the shape of water.”
Which sends you squealing. “Noah!”
Lucas doesn't get it. You are the strongest person he knows who can talk to anyone and has a sense of determination that rivals a gold medalist: the one who kept everyone together during one of the shiftiest times in his life, and he's who you settle for! “If you have to say technically, you've already lost the argument.”
You snort.
Noah rolls his eyes good naturedly.
“Wait,” you realize, eyes going wide, “does that mean you're younger than me now.”
Noah tilts his head in thought, “physically. . .”
“Pretty sure that means yes,” Lucas adds, wondering how long Noah had been back for.
“Oh my god, I'm stealing from the cradle!”
Noah looks incredibly affronted as he blinks rapid looking down at you like you'd grown a second head.
“You mean cradle robbing?”
“I'm. . .twenty four,” Noah says. Not even he sounds convinced.
“Twenty two,” you correct archly. Then look at Lucas with a friendly smile, “you want to go get pho?”
“Right now!” Lucas checks his watch. It was already midnight. He should've been at his hotel room sleeping by now.
You nod.
Noah elaborates, “it's pricey but the broth hits different. They have some pretty good view of the city too.”
Two years. Noah had been back for two years and you never said anything.
Lucas can put up with Noah for a few hours to spend time with you. After all, you were the one who was putting up with him for life apparently.
“Should we let-,” you begging to ask, amusement dancing in your eyes, city lights reflected in the dark brown hue that had a quality of depth that made it easy to open up to you.
“Nah,” Noah smirks, “Sheer chatted some dude up, they won't even realize-”
“Rahul will though.”
“Psst, it's fine.”
You've both built a life here, far removed from any traces of Westchester. Maybe that's where he had gone wrong. Lucas had been so desperate to escape he's never found a place of his own, and still haunted by his one and only home: a place he wants nothing to do with. He needed to make a new home.
Law school wasn't sounding too shabby.
*
Noah leads the way.
*
A lightbulb turns on.
“What's with your eyes?” Lucas asks.
Noah chuckles, “sometimes you fall into a vat of radioactive waste because that's just the type of luck you have.”
You shake your head, amused. “Side effect. It's nothing serious. We checked.”
That doesn't comfort Lucas at all.
He wonders if Connor or Tom could fix that just to be sure Noah wouldn't suddenly go Redfield on you while you were sleeping.
Ugh, that was one mental image he didn't need.
“So what terrible horrifying government secret are you here investigating and does it have to do with a company hiding vats of radioactive waste,” you ask.
Lucas takes the bait.
He could and has talked people's ears off about the loose regulations on place on waste disposal among an array of industries.
*
*
*
Andy, Dan, Tom
This all starts with two things as far as Tom is concerned. First, they've all been talking for ages about doing a guys road trip after everyone still around Westchester had driven down to visit Ava. Not that the girls weren't fun, Tom thought to himself, but it just sounded nice.
He never had a sleepover growing up so this would make up for that. At least that was the idea.
Then Lucas called Andy freaking out about Noah Marshall and Connor could only nod and go, “yeah he was with them about a year. . almost two since we visited. I think it's already been two years.”
Which was a total mindfuck because why hadn't he mentioned anything.
Why hadn't Stacy?
Tom’s done some research into necromancy and it never ends well which is why they pile into Dan’s prius and hit the road to Vancouver Canada. Sans Connor because Vy is pregnant and Connor is glued to her side. “I think they were dating,” he also adds, bookmarking some cases around New Orleans that scream supernatural activity. That throws everyone for another mind loop as he clues the Pine Springs gang who wasn't there that senior year, why Noah Marshall shouldn't be alive, much less freely walking around. The only person who takes the news relatively well is Dan, who scratches his chin thoughtfully before saying, “that makes sense,” he nods to himself.
Andy rounds on him, ready to kick Noah's ass on sight which Tom will totally back him up on. Tom still can't handle spiders for which Danni and Jocelyn continue to tease him about.
“How in the fuck does that make sense,” Andy seeths, “that motherfucker landed you in a coma! I broke my leg and had to repeat senior year!”
Dan adds, “well you know, they spoke about how tragic his death was. And they used to have nightmares of him dying-”
They all turn to look at Dan.
“What,” Andy says, “when did they tell you that?”
Dan shrugs, “well they were always coming over that year and making a point to spend time with everyone but I always thought they looked sad and thinking about them alone on the edge of town,” he trails off. He’d never brought up your parents absence, but it was clearly felt. “So I went over to theirs when I could,” Dan finishes.
Andy shakes his head, “no. I don’t know what or how, but people don’t just come back from the dead and everything's sunshine and roses,” he crosses his arms against his chest and fumes across the entire state of New York.
Tom has to agree with Andy. There’s nothing in their research to suggest that people can just come back okay. Everything taken by the power ended up twisted into a funhouse version; it never ended well.
They stretch their legs in Cleveland, Andy still scowling. Every now and then he’ll rant about how Noah has to be up to something and he has to go save you from dying. Tom doesn’t bring it up, prefering to let Andy work through it now and wrap his head around Noah Marshall being alive on the car ride up to Canada, but Connor had said Noah’s been back for at least two years--wouldn’t he already have done something? He thinks of you and how you had been alone with Noah at the end. Maybe you had kept some things to yourself.
It was hard to relive trauma aloud.
It made it more real.
Tom sends Imogen a few snaps in Toledo as Andy blasts The White Stripes, to fit his mood.
He wishes Parker had been able to get the days off. Having someone at a distance from the situation might help everyone keep their cool. He knows he won’t stop Andy from beating Noah’s ass.
Dan picks up postcards in Chicago for everyone, as they sit by the famous Bean eating pizza.
“I can’t tell if this is better or if I’m fucking starving,” Andy admits, on his third slice.
Dan snorts, looking up from his lap where he’s writing out the postcards, wanting to send them quickly, “so they make it back before we do.”
Tom takes a walk around the plaza, thinking that fall really was the best weather, cold enough for a sweater without being too freezing and the sun didn’t burn.
They don’t stop in Wisconsin or Minnesota except for gas and Mcdonalds.
Andy sleeps as Tom takes over the driving.
Dan’ll be up next.
“Please play something other than Beach House,” Tom complains at Dan, “this is going to make me fall asleep.”
Dan chuckles, “Its good night driving music.”
“No Dan,” Tom shakes his head with a smile
The sun rises, and Tom gets to sleep.
He wakes up in Rapid City, South Dakota and they have to recreate that awful Hilary Clinton, “just chilling in Rapid City,” Andy says mockingly.
Dan almost chokes on his coffee.
Montana is so fucking beautiful and Tom’s seized with the sudden urge to come live out here. “We could totally do it,” he tells the other men, “it’s cheap out here. We could buy a huge piece of land and never have to deal with any bullshit again. Our friend group could do it. Danni’s really handy and Lily could set us up with wifi!”
“Bro,” Andy says gravely, “you know I love you, but I’m not moving to Montana with you.”
Dam smiles softly, “Danni would have a field day taking pictures here.”
Montana is beautiful and green and none of the nature here has that heavy feeling the woods in Westchester do, but they’re tired and exhausted from being on the road for the last two days. They crash at a motel 8 and sleep for the next twelve hours.
*
They ask this beautiful woman who's wearing birks and has a tote bag emblazoned “love your mother” with a planet earth painted on, to take a picture of them in front of Pike Place Market. Dan has her number before Tom’s done sending the pictures to his Pine Springs groupchat, teasing Parker about having stayed behind to yell at teenagers smoking weed while driving boats around the lake: accidents waiting to happen.
Tom has never been to Seattle.
He knows most of his friends from Westchester have  to visit you or Ava, and he's grown close to Ava, but at the time he was more of a friend of a friend and so never flew up to Seattle.
“Is it lame I'm still tired,” Andy asks, as they find a park to sit down at. It felt so good to be able to lay in the grass instead of sitting cramped up in the car.
“Age is starting to hit us.” Dan muses. “Either of you want to come get some things with me.”
His friend snorts, “Haven't you gotten enough gifts for everyone?” Which, yeah, Dan has been accumulating a small horde of souvenirs in the back for all his friends. He's a thoughtful guy. Tom’s not surprised the man’s a nurse. If he'd had Dan as a nurse when he was a kid, he might not completely hated going to the doctors office.
“I was kinda thinking about getting something from every state,” Dan says, blushing red as he rubs the back of his neck.
“I think it's sweet,” Tom says, clasping a hand on the other man's back. “Cheesy, but sweet.”
Andy shakes his head, “we should've gotten there by now. If only we hadn't stopped in Montana-”
“Noah's not going anywhere,” Dan points out, “you can kick his ass tonight or tomorrow.”
“They know we’re coming,” Andy scowls, “He could be halfway around the world by now.”
“Just remember Lucas already sucker punched him,” Tom offers his friend as consolation.
Dan shakes his head a little, but stays silent. Tom hasn't been able to get Dan’s feelings on the whole situation. He can’t imagine him being completely ambivalent or cool with Noah getting off scot free, but then again, Tom doesn’t know every little detail.
No one talks about it in detail even in their little power club that Connor and him started up.
He gets it.
It’s not something anyone wants to linger on.
And he understands better than most.
His monster was different, but no less horrifying.
“I’ll go with you,” Tom offers Dan, because this is a new city and even though the point is to go see what's up with Noah, and make sure he isn’t still the shadow monster he was the last time Tom saw him, he still wants to make the most of it.
“Two hours,” Andy says with a warning. “Two hours or I leave you in Seattle.”
“Sure, sure,” Tom shakes his head. Andy would never do them like that.
“If you’re coming we should go to the space needle,” Dan says thoughtfully, taking out his phone to begin google mapping the places he wants to hit up.
“Two hours!” Andy calls back from where he’s watching a couple people play basketball.
*
Tom discovers he has a thing about heights as they ascend via an elevator. It’s a slow day and the elevator operator talks him through it, telling him all sorts of bad puns and more information about the space needle then he can remember. “Sarah Palin came by the other day,” the woman who looks to be about their age with green ringlets and a friendly smile that doesn’t seem to be forced like most customer service workers smile (smile through the pain), “and she said she could see Alaska from here! Get it?”
Tom tries to smile, but yeah, he’s never doing this again. “Did you see the masked singer with Sarah Palin?”
The girl nods, “how the mighty have fallen. You think there's an alternate universe where she was vice president and insead Joe Biden’s on Dancing with the Stars?”
Tom’s laugh dies in his throat as the elevator jolts to a stop. It certainly feels like a huge jolt, but that may be his anxiety making everything elven times worse.
“Well thank you for riding air force two,” she salutes as Tom finally steps into the platform.
Sweet, sweet relief.
He sort of has to go take a picture or two off the viewing platform. He’s made it this far.
“She was totally into you,” Dan says, stepping in to take Tom’s mind off things.
“Was not.”
“Totally was.”
Tom rolls his eyes, “she was just being nice.”
“Sure man, sure. But she was.”
*
They arrive even later than Andy had predicted. It’s midnight and proof that they had dallied in Seattle for two long. This is the first time Dan has ever left the country so of course they stop and take pictures.
And then they stop and eat at the cute little cabin lodge just off the highway.
And even Andy forgets about the Noah business.
They pull into the street, disappearing from the city in the turn onto the street. It’s crazy how much of a difference a street can make. A little quiet row of houses tucked under the twinkling lights of the city lights.
Your house is a small one story thing, clearly an older home from before cookie cutter houses came into fashion, and with a certain amount of charm even with the dead plant by the doorstep: closer to a cottage than a house like something out of Snow White. There’s even a ouija board doormat that Tom thinks is completely in line with your humor and probably Noah’s as well. He just doesn’t remember much about Noah when he was alive. Last time Tom saw Noah, Noah was saying sorry to the birds. People could change.
Right?
It’s not like Noah had gone all Zodiac Killer on his friends.
The lights are off and Tom feels kind of bad that he’s about to wake you up, but he also really wants to crash in an actual bed.
Dan knocks on your door as Andy paces behind Tom.
A minute later, you peak your head out the door. Your navy blue sweater is cuffed around your hands, clearly meant for someone taller, helping to stave off the autumn chill, and grey flannel pajama pants. You rub your eyes with the back of your hand as you yawn. “You’re here,” you smile and hug Dan with one arm, “do you need any help with the bags.”
“The bags can wait until tomorrow,” Dan answers for the group, “I just want to sleep in a real bed.”
You snort, “don’t actually have a guest room,” you admit, keeping your voice down as you usher them all inside, “but I do have a pretty comfortable pull out couch and way too many quilts. I have to stop going to Victoria Island.”
Andy looks around, tense.
Tom’s a little surprised when you hug him too. “Want any food? There’s a ton of leftovers. Noah’s been stress baking. He has a bunch of exams this week.,” you say with such casualness.
“We already ate,” Dan offers, “there was this cool looking log cabin that sold me on pumpkin spice muffins.”
“Where is Noah,” Andy asks, cutting right to the quick.
You look at him pointedly as you explain, “he went to sleep early. He’s got school at like 7 am. I have no clue why. . .college was all about afternoon classes for me.”
Andy wisely, let’s it go for the moment.
You show them where things are, the couch is already extended. The TV’s sitting on a pile of textbooks with a nintendo switch right next to it.
Tom is out before his head hits the pillow.
*
They wake up and eat the promised leftovers as you rush to find the spare key to leave with your friends before you too have to go to work. “I would've asked for the day off like I did for the rest of the week,” you hastily explain, filling the electric kettle with water, “but it was Maureen’s birthday and I would’ve felt like such a dickhead.”
You make Dan promise to come look through the Museum you work at before it closes, and then you’re running off with a tumbler full of tea, putting a hand through your hair as if that’ll save it from looking like a mess. Tom’s unsurprised at your easy nature when they’re all imposing, making no secret of the real reason they had driven all the way to the other coast of North America.
Andy conducts a walkthrough of the house, leaving the sole bedroom of the house alone.
Dan shakes his head, flipping through the TV channels, before logging onto your netflix account, the most recent show having been played was Avatar the Last Airbender. “Anything you want to watch?”
“The good place,” Tom offers, “everyone’s always saying it's good.”
Dan shrugs. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t have netflix.”
Andy comes back with a picture frame clutched in his hand, “He’s such a dick!” Red seeping into his neck as he fumes.
Tom looks over at the picture, but it’s just a photo any normal couple would have hanging around their house: a blurry polaroid of you and Noah, each with a red solo cup at some house party, with the date, over a year ago, written on the border. He gets it, he does. And Andy’s his friend, so he nods.
Dan on the other hand, “okay. . .”
Andy disappears back down the hall. “I just don’t understand how they kept this from us! I mean-after what he did!”
Tom nods the same way he always had when his dad would start lecturing him in japanese even though his japanese is limited to whatever the japanese equivalent of Dora the explorer teaching spanish is.
“Probably so we wouldn’t freak out,” Dan offers, not looking away from the screen.
Andy marches back into the living room with a deep set frown, “Noah was fine offering us up to that monster and now they’re here playing house like nothing ever happened.” He sits down next to Tom, head in his hand. “I just don’t get it.”
He clasps a hand on Andy’s shoulder in comfort.
“Maybe they just wanted to forget as much as we did,” Dan notes quietly. “Some of us left and never really went back.” He’s talking about Lily and Lucas, who only visits during the holidays, then there’s Ava out in Arizona, busy doing field research and only going to Westchester in between jobs. Dan’s an hour away, a world away, near Stacy.
It’s really just Andy and Connor who stayed.
He’s in Pine Springs, a good hour to the west of Westchester.
“He died,” Andy grumbles out, “it could’ve easily been them, or any of us, or all of us. We’re lucky no one else did.”
Dan frowns, looking over at Andy, “I don’t like this anymore than you do. I’m not jazzed that Noah’s been back for years and we just found out. But I trust their judgement.”
“Necromancy is serious business,” Tom says, breaking the staring contest that’s started between the two friends.
*
Noah’s at least a little bit of a coward, as he saunters up to them, running a hand through his hair as he takes a seat at the table.
You had said this diner had the best malai kofta in the neighborhood.
He’s resting expression is still skewed towards sour, even as there’s other noticeable changes from the Noah Tom remember’s who’d kept to himself in school. His hair cut into a flattering undercut, clothes no longer on the angsty scruffy side but still decidedly casual as he opts for a dark palette, and of course, the blue eyes that seem to glow even in the afternoon light Lucas had mentioned in great detail. Noah’s clean shaven and lean, a backpack slung over his shoulder.
He only spares Tom a second’s glance before he focuses in on you, his lips quirk-ing up in a small smile. Sitting down, you lean forward expectantly as he plants a kiss on your cheek by way of greeting, before saying, “C’s make degrees right?”
“Mhm,” you nod, “but you did fine so it doesn’t matter. I ordered you the chicken and waffles. That’s what you usually get right?”
“Actually,” Noah starts, clearly about to tease you.
You shove his shoulder lightly, “beggars can’t be choosers.”
Dan extends an olive branch, “hey Noah.”
Which Andy immediately shoots down, “so it’s true.”
Tom’s only glad they’re already sitting and yeah, Noah’s a coward for meeting them in public, not that it had stopped Lucas from sucker punching him. It probably won’t stop Andy, only he’s sandwiched in between Dan and Tom and there’s no way Dan is getting up and out just so Andy can punch Noah. That’s not the kind of friend Dan is. Dan’ll take someone away to cool off, sprouting lines about being the bigger person, but Tom thinks that sometimes a punch is well earned.
Noah nods, sobering up, rating his arms on the table. “Yeah. It’s still. . . it’s still a trip nearly four years later.”
You cover his hand with yours, giving Noah’s hand a squeeze.
Now that they’re here with Noah, a burst of curiosity that’s been brewing in the back of Tom’s mind finally surges forward. “Do your eyes always glow? Or is it light a cat’s iridescence and that’s why you can read in the dark?”
“Gee, let me give you the paperwork the doctor diagnosed me with after I explained that my sister became a shadow monster and I came back to life. He was super nice and helpful about everything. We really don’t pay doctors enough.”
Andy rolls his eyes, “So are you still a monster or not.”
Noah frowns, before leading forward, gripping a glass of ice in hand pointedly, lifting it off the table, watching his own action with a sad fascination, “you can’t begin to imagine how nice it is to be solid again--to be more than a lingering ghost who can barely remember who it used to be.”
Which doesn’t answer the question but--
Some monsters were all too human for comfort. And some monstrous beings ended up friends and allies back in Pine Springs.
*
You and Dan walk up ahead arm in arm, chatting about everything from how cozy ll bean’s wool socks were to how you wanted to branch out and leave your job but it just couldn't be a bank, working in a cubical all day seemed like a death sentence. Dan fills you in on the news from back home and you both catch up as you walk at a leisurely pace back to your home.
Somehow, Noah manages to be patient as Tom rattles off question after question.
“Do you remember much?”
“What was it like coming back?”
“Can you do any magic thought,” he purses his lips in thought, “that doesn’t tell us much, since Ava’s out there levitating feathers.”
“Are any of your other senses better?”
“Do you have any other changes after coming back?”
“Can you speak to animals now?”
“Do you ever get a craving for human flesh?”
“Your limbs don’t fall off or anything? Right?”
“You have all your memories back?”
“Do you ever see any ghosts?”
“Can you see ghosts?”
Noah answers them patiently, if amused, as Andy skulks behind, clearly listening in on the conversation.
“How did they bring you back,” Tom finally asks, having spent countless nights researching necromancy. It had crept up in the Pine Spring’s society books, journals detail all sort of gorey accounts of their attempts to harness the power to gain power over the dead and living, but none of it had ever amounted to anything. At least in the best case.
One member had rotted away from the inside out, black mold blooming in his lungs, incurable as he choked to death after trying to raise a simple cat from the dead.
Noah tenses up, glancing over to where you’re laughing as Dan does a spot on Bernie impression about how it’s time to once again, “ask for a The man from U.N.C.L.E. sequel,” before meeting Tom’s gaze again. “You’ve formed a little club to keep the power away from people right?”
He nods, “I just-I don’t want more people to go through what we have,” he explains. They had to be proactive and learn so that no one else would stumble upon the power and exploit it to violent ends. Ava’s magic wasn’t derived from the power. Tom had double checked that. Ava’s magic was her own through her own sheer will.
But the power-that was something else entirely.
He swallows thickly.
Nothing had happened so far. And he couldn’t tell if their plan was working, or if they had gotten lucky. It had been a handful of years. But then, a decade had passed between Jane Marshall’s death and her awakening.
“And no one else ever will,” Noah says forlornly.
“Explain,” Andy says, walking up on Noah’s other side.
The man looks up at you, as you and Dan wait by the street corner for the rest of the group to catch up, and he shakes his head. “All you need to know is the power won’t be a problem again.”
*
Tom runs the problem over and over in his mind as they explore Vancouver and Andy continues to get digs in at Noah while Noah lets him.
*
He thinks about it as Andy makes everyone watch #Alive. And then Dan reminds them how obsessed everyone was with Inception when it came out. And Tom thinks about Noah’s words. And then you suggest watching something lighter: Zoolander.
*
Tom plays Noah’s words over in his head as he stares up at the ceiling, listening to Andy’s snores.
*
He puzzles over what Noah meant, why he didn’t want to bother you with it, as he drives back across the continent.
*
The power takes.
*
The power gives.
*
He gets it as they stop for gas in New York.
*
Oh, you really must love him.
*
*
*
Ava
Ava walks into Tom’s house out in Pine springs. It’s summer and she’s ready to spend the entire week swimming and continuing the search for a black lipstick that won’t stain. Fenty came pretty close.
There’s tons of cars in the driveway and she knows she’s the last one to get there; she always did like an entrance.
She tries the doorknob before knocking, hearing the laughter and conversation carry outside. The house is unlocked so she lets herself in; she likes to make entrances, guilty as charged, before following the sound of voices into the back porch overlooking the lake.
Tom had lucked out in buying this place during the summer the lady of the lake terrorized the town.
She’s frozen in shock when she sees Noah sitting with everyone like he hasn't been dead for over eight years. He’s sitting with an arm around you, beer in his other hand, talking with Lily, in a faded AC/DC shirt and dark jeans despite the heat.
Ava pinches herself to make sure she isn’t dreaming.
“Ava,” Lily cries, spotting her, “you’re here.”
“What the fuck!”
Realization dawns on your face as Noah looks over at the resident goth chick who’s withered into a refined goth woman, less fishnet and more victorian mourning shirts paired with flared black and white leggings, for the first time in eight years and seven months.
“Hey Ava,” he says, lifting his hand up in greeting from where it’s resting on your shoulder.
Your face heats up, as you look at Ava, realizing you’d never gotten around to telling her. Not when you’d visited her for Thanksgiving even though she refused to participate in a propaganda holiday that “perpetuates colonialism” or the time last year when you’d gone to support her big lecture at UMississipi. It had never seemed the right time and now the time to calmly explain was gone.
“Someone explain before I light him on fire,” Ava utters, feeling heat grow in her fingertips. It was easy after years of practice. She was toying with the idea of buying a house in Salem.
Noah doesn’t even flinch.
How could he, having grown up with Jane for a sister that had gone around filling people shoes with mud and shoving people into pools with a laugh. That girl had been fearless, and Ava has long thought if she’d been an inch more scared, you and Jane never would have gone into those ruins.
It almost warms Ava’s cold dead heart.
Ha.
If Ava had sometimes been the third wheel with you and Jane, then Noah had been the ugly duckling waiting for a scrap of attention because Jane shone bright, a sunflower soaking up light, thriving on attention. Maybe Noah hadn’t been all that bothered to let his sister take the lead as kids, even as he grumbled about the trouble they were sure to get into, but neither Marshall twin had cared about anyone’s attention more than yours.
Jane had always been a limpet, her hand in yours.
Ava had been too independent even at nine to always go along with Jane, or want a friend that close.
But you didn’t just go along with Jane, you encouraged her, and dragged Noah along when Jane got too caught up in her made up games to remember to play nice. Noah who even at nine seemed clued into the fact that you were hurt that your parents were never around, something that never occurred to Jane.
So she’s not surprised that Noah and you are a thing.
Figures.
You’d kissed more than one white boy that could vaguely pass for Noah if you had enough to drink in college even if you had only dated twice and neither had been Noah Marshall knockoffs.
It’s glaringly obvious in hindsight.
What she doesn’t get is how he’s alive.
And everyone’s just cool with it.
“I thought you already knew,” Dan says.
Lily looks at you, “didn’t you tell Ava first?”
You raise a brow, “I thought Lucas told everyone?”
Lucas shrugs, wearing a suit in the summer, “I did. I just figured Ava already knew”
Stacy sips her cocktail, “awkward.”
“Wow,” Noah jokes with a grin, “you guys are terrible friends.”
Andy almost chokes on his beer, sending Noah a look that would’ve made Medusa jealous.
Danni shakes her head, “too soon dude, too soon.”
Maybe she should move into Cora’s old house. That way she could keep up with her friends' news.
How the hell did she miss Noah coming back to life.
That was metal as fuck.
She and you would have words about keeping secrets.
“Just give me the strongest drink you can make,” she says with a shake of her head, taking a seat next to Imogen, the resident mixologist.
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bi-outta-cordonia · 4 years
Text
In Another World, Part I
It’s @rodappreciationweek and I decided I’d do something! I’m still kinda mystified by the idea that Colt and MC could’ve had a completely different relationship if they had met under different circumstances so I’d like to explore it.
This is going to be a multipart story with a ton of words for each chapter, so forgive me for the length. Colt x MC is going to be the focal point. 
Ride or Die: A Bad Boy Romance. Colt Kaneko x f!MC (Deidre Wheeler). PG-13, with some warnings in regards to alcohol usage. ~5k words.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She’s been over it sixteen—no, seventeen times. Check-in three weeks prior to the start of classes, RAs are all going to be at the front desk, and keys will be distributed in alphabetical order starting with last name. Ingrid is already set up and, for once, there’s no need to be rankled at the idea of her being first. They’ve already moved on from the bitter academic war they waged between each other.
“Valedictorian” goes to Deidre Wheeler, all around genius and undisputed number one hailing from Mar Vista Prep. Her dad thought it was absolutely hilarious but he always did say he’d rather see young brown girls fighting over achievements rather than stupid stuff. He’s given her the speech about a thousand times, “work twice as hard for half as much,” and work she has.
Burning through courses is almost a hobby more than a necessity. How many honors and pre-college credits are under her belt? Twenty? It’s a rush like no other and almost induces a high of the most unusual sense. “Better than yesterday’s Deidre”—it’s the mindset that keeps her going and the mantra that plays in her head on repeat. She conquered high school doing twice as much, three times as hard, and ten times better than the previous day’s version of herself. Ingrid is very similar and it’s partially the reason why they were able to turn a rivalry into mutual respect within the past few months.
In hindsight, it’s a good thing she managed to quash that thing with Ingrid. High school is one thing and she can’t afford to be all on her own in college. The online facilities tours make it clear she’s made it someplace well above her dad’s humble salary—Langston University. The most prestigious university on the east coast and full of alumni all running in elite circles who most certainly have been afforded educations that far exceed what she’s been given in her life.
These are vacation homes in multiple countries types—kids that have gotten pretty far on the most expensive schooling money can buy and parents that occasionally rub elbows with admissions officers and deans. Mostly wealthy white kids are stomping all over the campus on top of that, so of course that’s an even bigger hurdle to jump. Allegedly, it’s the money they’ll judge her for the most but Mar Vista wasn’t much different as far as the atmosphere is concerned. They underestimated her there too and she’ll roll right over these Langston kids. She doesn’t know any other way to be.
“There it is.”
Deidre lifts her head and peers out the window as the lush campus of her dream school passes by. Groups of kids wander the campus, likely visiting friends or heading to their summer classes. A few cars traverse the tiny winding streets and she thinks of the online facility tour again.
“State of the art buildings, each dedicated to the campus through the network of alumni and donors who are proud to call themselves ‘Drakes!’”
“Ingrid keeps talking about how big the room is,” she says. “Still have to share showers though, so hopefully the other girls won’t be gross.”
Her dad smiles.
“I’m real glad you two became friends.” She makes a noise and he rolls his eyes. “I’m real glad you two became acquaintances. It won’t feel as lonely out here when there’s someone you know and she’s got a good head on her shoulders. Knows what she wants and goes after it–like you.”
She dips her head and her braids fall around her face. Her father shoots a quick look at her but doesn’t say anything just yet. He’d tell her to keep an eye on the landscape passing in the background. All sixty years of academic prestige—prestige she’s dreamed of delving into—surrounds her on all sides. It’s Langston.
Her father shifts and gently squeezes her shoulder.
“You remember seven years ago? When mom drew that portrait of me?” Deidre asks.
She can almost see it again: kitchen floor covered in white tarp yet streaks of paint still stain the linoleum. Her mother’s back always faced the door because the natural light always spills in on one particular side. Orange, yellow, and blue cans of paint fill the room with a chemical smell but she found she never minded it so long as she could watch her mother work. Deft hands glide along the canvas in total silence filling in color and smoothing out rough edges.
She remembers the little moments when her breath would hitch and her body leaned forward as her mother utilized some other form of artistic witchcraft to make her already stunning art into a masterpiece. She remembers watching her mother’s tongue retract back into her mouth as she put the finishing touches of brown in her subject’s eyes. She remembers the wide smile that broke across her mother’s when the work was finally completed.
Her father sniffs and clears his throat. Of course he remembers—how could he ever forget his wife?
“Packed it in the back for you,” he says. “A lot of her old stuff is still at home but that painting had to come with you to school. She never…” He pulls the car to a stop at her residence hall—her new home for the next four months. Ray Wheeler is a man that’s seen every type of tragic story imaginable and felt it in spades when Death came for his wife. Her father reaches across and caresses Deidre’s cheek, choking on tears dangerously close to falling as he stares into eyes that haunt him. “I know she’s proud of you. I’m proud of you, baby girl. And no matter what happens from this day forward, I need you to know you earned this. You busted your ass and you made this dream into your own reality. You are capable—more capable than anyone I have ever known.”
She wipes her own tears. Five years ago, she lost her mother yet every day it feels like she’s still watching. Deidre looks up at the dorm in front of her—all square and looking more spacious than it has the right to be. Twice as hard to get half as much and she’ll keep pushing, not because there are eyes on her but because she sees it and wants it for herself. Success, sure, but endless possibility above it all.
Deidre steels herself and shares a determined look with her father. They both slide out of the car and every step she takes towards the building makes her tremble. She soldiers through it with her head up and her heart slamming in her chest.  
~
It takes an hour to fight through the throngs of students jockeying for their keys to their rooms. RAs and parents alike scream, most of the students are chatting incessantly or on their phones. It’s pure chaos and she almost loves it. The sight of a tall blonde in a cute blue dress has Deidre squinting at first until said blonde turns her head and she’s met with Ingrid’s picture perfect smile.
Ingrid wraps her up in a hug tighter than the one she gave at graduation. It is warm like peak hours on a beach and smells like a brand of perfume that costs money just to name out loud. When Ingrid pulls back, her make up is impeccable and her smile is brighter than the sun. She has to rise to her full height because she has to lean down to reach Deidre and it suddenly makes little sense why Deidre even disliked her for all those years.
“Hi Mr. Wheeler!” Ingrid exclaims, peering over Deidre’s shoulder and waving enthusiastically.
Her father gives a small wave back. “How’s your summer been?”
“Oh, so-so,” Ingrid responds, still smiling. “I guess I’m just anxious. Most of the time, I’m wandering around campus trying to wrap my head around this and then other times I’m just hanging out. So you know,” she absently waves a hand, “just your average young adult on the verge of being a real adult. Oh!” Deidre startles when Ingrid whirls on her. “Most of your stuff is here!”
Deidre tosses a glance at the packed lobby. “I still need my keys first.”
Ingrid snorts. “I got this.”
She barely manages to usher out a strangled sound of protest as Ingrid pulls her along through the lobby. The RA, Danny, quirks a brow at both of them. It takes less than ten minutes for Ingrid to weasel Deidre’s keys from Danny despite her name being dead last on the list. A couple of parents and students toss annoyed looks at them but all they get in return is Ingrid’s signature hair flip backed by Ray’s own intense glare.
Langston isn’t much different from the average ivy league. She can’t wrap her head around how much cash probably flows into this place but she can appreciate what some of that money does. Ingrid leads the Wheelers through rather straightforward halls until they reach the room. She watches anxiously as Deidre uses her key on the door and slowly opens it.
It’s a room almost as wide as the kitchen and living room at her dad’s house back in LA—two beds pushed on opposite sides with enough space in the middle to put two more if they wanted. Ingrid told her she wanted a bunk set up and has already finagled her desk and dresser beneath the gap. Various items decorate the space from fairy lights to the delicate lace framing the bed.
Natural light pours in from two rather large windows and exposes a view of the winding campus walkways. More students traverse these paths, shoving and laughing at each other as they shuffle to their next destination. Deidre peers out the window, takes it all in through two blinks and a breath. When she looks back at Ingrid, she’s gesturing towards the pile of essentials sitting on the other side of the room still waiting to be removed from the packaging.
She can already see it—dawn cresting just beyond the bend of trees framing the opposite side of the walkways as birds gleefully sing. Her heavy eyelids slowly open as she feels around for her water bottle and she removes her thick rimmed glasses so she can properly greet the morning sun. Her bed is pushed against the other wall much like Ingrid’s and sits on four pillars that raise the whole construct off the ground by a comfortable margin. Owls decorate her pillows and covers, muted blue and soft mint green the most prominent color theme, and she stretches sitting cross-legged at her desk while a full night’s worth of work covers her computer screen from top to bottom…
“You’re already thinking about writing a paper or something, aren’t you?”
Deidre shoots an annoyed look at Ingrid.
Deidre’s father whistles and turns slowly, taking in all aspects of the spacious room. “You girls should be cozy enough in here.” He shakes his head and mutters, “…all this damn money…”
“You want to start putting your stuff together?” Ingrid asks, poking at the boxes still patiently waiting by the bed. “I mean, no rush or anything!”
Deidre shares a look with her father and the two smile warmly. It’s almost like old times again.
Strange thinking of it as old times like it wasn’t just three days ago that she played the last game of Conqueror with her dad on a quiet Friday night. He was somber then, still anxious and afraid of sending his only child off into the world. Every night it feels like he’s telling her a new story about a girl that got caught up in a mess she didn’t belong in or a boy that never had a fair shot at life. Cop parents are weird about the dangers of the world but she didn’t want him to feel bad so she just nodded and acted like she was listening.
Cracking open the packages is making it more real by the minute. Her father lifts one side of the bed while both girls slide the platforms under each leg. Ingrid helps Deidre push her desk up against the wall underneath the windows and her father hefts the back portion onto it. The rhythm is far too familiar—Deidre pulls her weight but her father shoulders most of the burden. He took care of her for five years after her mother passed and it frightens her to think of what he’s going to do now that she’s no longer in his reach.
The rest of the day goes by in a terrible blur and she can’t stop thinking about her father. Fairy lights wrap around the legs of the bed and stretch across the headboard. More are carefully woven in a delicate pattern above the wall that now holds a distinct picture of a younger version of herself. Muted blue and soft mint green sheets, pillows, and comforter bring a pop to the room that perfectly pairs with the soft pink and white of Ingrid’s side. Owls in various adorable depictions stare back at her.
It unfolds slowly and becomes the image she pictures it to be. When they all finish, she realizes her father is leaving tomorrow morning.
She starts crying as soon as his hand gently squeezes her shoulder and Ingrid quietly excuses herself from the room, tossing a sympathetic look towards the two Wheelers finally coming to grips with their rapidly shifting reality. Her brain almost tries to get her to remember the last time she cried but she stops it before it even starts.
“You’re gonna do just fine, baby girl,” her father says, choking up on the very assurance. They both know she will. They’ll both be fine once things get going in this new world. He pulls her back and wipes at her freefalling tears. “It doesn’t matter how far away I am, I’m only a phone call away, you understand?”
Deidre nods. “I’ll—”
He shakes his head.
“I’ll see you soon,” he says and nods proudly.
The world is changing. They are changing. But they’ll be here. She has to believe it.
“I’ll see you soon,” she repeats.
He stays until the evening and buys the girls dinner. The food is good and the right amount of greasy (salad for Ingrid though; Deidre never knew she was a vegetarian). Once he leaves, she is somber once more. Night encroaches quickly and she tucks herself into bed rather early. As Ingrid removes her makeup, she tosses a question over her shoulder.
“Anything in particular you doing tomorrow?”
Deidre shifts quietly. “No? What’s up?”
~
Within less than 24 hours, she breaks all the rules again.
There’s a list of them she always knew sat at the back of her head. All four years of high school revolve around them—she is Ray Wheeler’s daughter, she will conduct herself appropriately in his house. As long as he’s paying for her food and he’s paying for the clothes on her back, he expects discipline. No partying, no drinking, no smoking of any kind, and she responds with “yes sir” and “no, ma’am.”
“Ooh, yes. Dark lippies are so you.”
Ingrid, who is much sweeter than Deidre ever gave her credit for, seems genuinely interested in befriending her despite their previous drama. She’s a bit too tall to share clothes but it just so happens that she’s an expert in making outfits when she puts her mind to it. A pair of scissors lies abandoned on Ingrid’s desk and strips of cloth lay equally forgotten upon the floor. Makeup cakes Deidre’s face (thanks to a quick trip to a local Sephora) and her body squirms in the newly made outfit that adorns her body.
She looks…different. Almost as different as the first time she went to a “high school” party. She remembers a few things from then—copious drinking and a lot of dancing, maybe a stray couple or two making out in the corners. Her face heats at the memory but she pushes it down.
College is different. A fresh start. Ray Wheeler isn’t here and he doesn’t need to know.
Deidre pulls at the short skirt clinging to her hips and fiddles with the crop top that is definitely slipping down (it isn’t—she just can’t help  feeling like it is). Ingrid gently pushes her hands away so she can finish applying makeup, her tongue peeking between her lips and her brow drawn tight as she concentrates. It takes another hour before Ingrid steps back with a bright smile plastered on her face.
“Observe,” she says, stepping to the side and gesturing at the mirror.
When Deidre looks at the glass, she knows the face that stares back at her well. It’s her, makeup won’t change the bookish air she carries or the obvious awkward tension in her. Dark liner won’t change the inquisitive look in her brown eyes. Shiny eyeshadow and shimmery lippies won’t erase that strange pout, as if she’s chewing her lip trying to decipher some mystery she can’t quite put her finger on.
She looks the same but also different. This is going to be different.
“I’m insanely jealous of your makeup skills,” Deidre says, staring wide eyed at her reflection.
Ingrid beams. “You should be.”
~
Turns out Ingrid has made a lot of friends in the time she’s spent on her own out here.
“They’re not really friends friends,” she clarifies. They approach the frat house at a fast pace due to the length of Ingrid’s bold strides. Deidre keeps up as best she can although the journey is a little harder in heels. Ingrid’s lips purse. “One of the guys here is the son of the head of the biochem department. Allegedly, it’s a real boys club here and the only women that really get passes are…you know…”
Her brows raise and Deidre sighs.
“Legacy,” they both sigh.
People start appearing around the bends and corners, each one of them dressed to the nines for a frat party. A few boys shout the Greek letters of the frat and pointedly show off their dates. Deidre looks back at Ingrid and notes the determination flaring in the taller girl’s eyes.
“There’s only two women in that department but they both teach upper levels. I won’t be able to take their classes this year.” Ingrid levels a serious look at Deidre. “We’re smart as hell. Smarter than most of these other people but they won’t act like it.”
She’s heard this conversation a million times.
“Work twice as hard for half as much,” Deidre mutters.
“I’m not gonna do anything with the guy. I just need to milk him for a bit,” Ingrid says.
The frat house is…a scene.
Gold and blue flags drape from windows down the side of the house. People spill out the door onto the porch and spread across the lawn. Loud music blares from speakers on the inside of the house and the beat vibrates through every muscle in her body.
Every step forward has her more nervous than the last. Ingrid takes her hand and leads her through the throng of people crowding the door. Eyes land on them instantly—curious, heated, suspicious, accusatory, and every emotion in between. She sees the stray looks raking over her braids and the sneers that follow. Those ones she actually does make eye contact with and musters the most indignant look she can manage. They look away soon enough but not before sharing cruel snickers amongst each other.
The further in Ingrid leads her, the more prominently the bass thrums. She can barely recognize the latest Raleigh Carrera single. It seems like it’s been slowed.
“I see the guy!” Ingrid shouts. Deidre leans closer and follows her gaze towards him. He looks about what she expects—tall, brunette, and wearing a lot of things that probably cost more than her life. Ingrid shares a sheepish smile. “He’s not that bad, I promise. His friends are kinda gross though, so don’t be afraid to stand your ground. One of his buddies—that guy?” Ingrid points at a boy with glasses. “He’s a sophomore—mechanical engineering. Have a chat with him!”
They get close enough to Ingrid’s guy that he practically jumps up when he sees them.
“Hey, you!” he exclaims, throwing his arms around Ingrid. She returns his hug but Deidre doesn’t miss the way she squeezes her hand. When he pulls back, he flashes a dopey grin. His hands don’t come off Ingrid’s shoulders. “I was wondering when you’d show up! You look really good.”
Ingrid flips her hair and smiles a bit. She nods at Deidre. “This is my friend, Deidre. Deidre—this is Tatum.”
Tatum gives a two finger salute and Deidre returns a small smile. “Any friend of Ingrid’s is a friend of mine. Welcome to the frat! Come here, let’s get you girls some drinks.”
The girls jerk to an immediate halt. Or rather, Deidre tugs Ingrid’s hand hard. There’s a wild and panicky look in her eye, she knows it. Ingrid, bless her heart, immediately remembers that between the two of them, one of them has an incredibly loving father who is also a police officer.
“Um, so like—” Ingrid whips her head around and Tatum looks up from the punch bowl. “Can you make one nonalcoholic? It’s…um…”
Deidre’s face heats up. “I’m not…I’m not much of a drinker…”
Tatum’s friends share a laugh between each other and throw glances at him, expecting him to laugh along it seems. Ingrid’s body tenses next to Deidre but she’s too nervous to say anything further. It’s not like she didn’t want to have these experiences. Ray Wheeler is caring but he wouldn’t tolerate a daughter that was less than perfect. Perfect angel with perfect grades and a perfect attitude—she wants to try different but doing that is easier said than done.
Tatum’s friends nudge each other but Tatum nods earnestly.
“Oh, sure!” he answers. He pours some unholy blend of expensive alcohol and mixer in one cup, then makes a mocktail in another cup. He hands off their drinks with a flourish. “So how’s the east coast treating you both?” He shoots a quick look to his friends and gestures at the girls. “I mentioned Ingrid’s from LA, yeah?”
One of his friends looks up. “I bet everyone ask if you’ve met famous people all the time.”
Ingrid shrugs “It’s not a big deal. You all have probably met more of them than me.”
“I hung out with Nathan Sterling and Poppy Min-Sinclair on my dad’s yacht earlier this year,” Tatum’s glasses wearing friend says. He shrugs nonchalantly. “You know he’s trying to get in here? Kind of a lame move after everything he pulled at that other school but it’s whatever.” He nods towards Tatum. “Didn’t your mom have Bianca Sandoval over?”
“Er, yeah.” Tatum laughs a bit. “Poppy Sinclair though? How’d you make it out of that one?”
His friend shakes his head. “She wasn’t really interested in talking and I wasn’t really big on listening. Anyway what’s up with you, Deidre? You meet anyone cool in LA?”
“Uh, not really…” She takes a small sip of her drink.
The guys remain silent for a beat before Tatum jumps in. “So…uh… You been anywhere fun this summer?”
“Mostly bouncing between my parents’ vacation homes,” Ingrid answers. She offers a sweet smile to Tatum, who perks up immediately. “Nothing too exciting though. Been to Monaco once, you’ve been a million times.”
It’s a conversation that drones on, quite literally dragging its feet across the marble floors. At first, Deidre thought Ingrid would flash a pretty smile, maybe flirt a little. It takes a moment but she starts piecing it together soon enough.
One of the boys asks a question and Ingrid gives a nonchalant answer. Instead of elaborating, she reroutes the conversation back to the boys, essentially handing them the next subject and the floor while she takes ginger sips of her drink.
Suddenly it makes far too much sense how Ingrid knew so much about the kids at Mar Vista. Give them an inch and they’ll run six miles with it. She learns about them and they learn what they think they know about Ingrid. Keeping up with the conversation gets increasingly difficult for Deidre but Ingrid always finds a way to swerve it back around to the guys so they can yammer on about their dads’ possessions and their mothers’ niche businesses.
It’s so drab despite the affluence dripping from their words and gleaming in the low light of the house. Deidre looks around at the many faces slowly rocking and grooving to the beat, or rather what they think is the beat. Couples sway together and drunken kisses are swapped. She downs the rest of her drink and turns, freezing on the spot.
Tatum’s friend—Brandon—the boy with the glasses and one year of experience with the mechanical engineering program under his belt—looks directly at her with something in his gaze she’s sure she doesn’t like. Like he clearly wants something from her that she’s not ready to give.
“Excuse me,” she says, squeezing past Ingrid.
She’s not too proud to admit she’s running. She’s certainly not too proud to admit that she’s out of her element here. It’s hot and starting to get a little rank. Someone is definitely smoking weed, or maybe a lot of people are smoking weed. Alcohol, too much expensive perfume and cologne—
A boy wretches in the corner of the kitchen and her face twists in disgust. All over the floor, completely missing the garbage can and it…it’s covering his shoes…
Deidre pushes past a couple of girls crowding the back door and ignores their moaning.
Outside smells good. Outside feels good. Fresh air and plenty of space to move around. There are chairs strewn across the patio as if they’ve been haphazardly thrust to the side save for one. A boy sits in it, head bowed and broad back facing the door. He doesn’t move for a while though the muted light of his phone shines bright in the night.
Deidre takes a step forward, head tilting and arms wrapping around herself in the cold. The wood must creak underneath her feet because the boy turns around and hits her with a look that almost scares her. It isn’t that he is scary looking—he just seems unapproachable. Thick brows draw tight and dark eyes linger on her cautiously like he’s trying to figure her out before she can figure him.
“Uh…” she stammers. She takes a few more steps forward and doesn’t take her eyes off him as he follows her. “Sorry, I’m just—I just needed some air for a second.”
She meekly drags one of the chairs away from its plastic brethren and sits down in it. There’s a good few feet of space between her and the boy.
He shrugs and returns to whatever is on his phone.
A few minutes of silence pass between them and she knows she’s blown her chance at making new friends. Tatum and Brandon seem like alright people but she knew Langston was going to be a test of all kinds. Wealth oozes from every corner of this place. Prestige and ladder climbing is not just about who you know, it’s who your parents know and have Tuesday brunch with. Ingrid chases a dream of being a doctor and all Deidre ever wanted was to bury her head into mechanics, taking things apart and putting them together again. She’s lost count of how many small appliances she’s broken and fixed. Her father hated it but he never stopped her either. She was smart and he refused to stifle her.
It’s why he always stressed twice as hard for half as much. People have been underestimating her since the day she was born but she never let that stop her from pushing herself. Being STEM and Black and female—she’s a nightmare and she’s been ready to haunt some prestigious minds for a minute.
But first, she’ll have to survive her first frat party and she’s already desperate to go home.
“Alright, I’ll bite.” Deidre glances at the boy and he’s looking at her out the corner of his eye. “You keep sighing like you don’t want to be here.”
Part of her deflates.
“It’s not my crowd,” she answers. Her eyes rake over him again—dark shirt and regular blue jeans, there’s a jacket hanging on the back of his chair and she’s almost certain that it’s leather. “How long have you been out here? You don’t seem too keen on being here either.”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment and she wonders if he’s lost interest in the conversation that quickly. Eventually, he sighs. “I’m here because my roommate is an asshole.”
He doesn’t elaborate any further.
“He’s inside?” she asks.
“She’s at home. There’s a chick she’s been talking to all summer.” He puts his phone to sleep and crosses his arms. “I’m just waiting for her to text me.”
It takes a long few minutes for her to understand it and then her face heats. She hadn’t gotten around to discussing roommate etiquette with Ingrid. There’s so much shit she’s already forgetting.
Deidre fiddles with the edge of her skirt and looks away.
“So if you don’t want to be here, why stay?” she asks.
“Why do you?”
She rolls her eyes.
“My friend’s inside.” She hopes it doesn’t sound weird coming out of her mouth. Twenty-four hours and she’s still in disbelief that Ingrid Tran Delaney is now her friend. “She’s talking to a guy, I guess.”
“You guess? Seems like that kinda thing would be pretty straight forward,” he says. Slowly she’s starting to feel like coming out here was a bad idea. Still better than being inside with Tatum and his friends, but not by much.
“She’s making connections, so she says,” Deidre corrects. “And I’m pretty sure I blew my chance at doing the same.”
She looks back at the boy and he’s just staring at her—
Through her, actually. She lets her eyes roam his face a bit—kind of boyish despite his height with the only sharp angles on him sitting prominently in his cheeks. The lights from inside the house shine on golden skin but doesn’t quite reach those piercing eyes. She opens her mouth looking to chew on her lip but remembers the dark lippie sitting there. He starts looking at her—really looking and it occurs to her that he’s not seeing her the same way Brandon did.
The boy seems cautious. Almost like he can’t trust that she’s just an awkward girl having an awkward but normal conversation. He leans back in his seat.
“Something worth having is something you have to take for yourself,” he says. “You can’t wait on some silver spoon toting douchebag’s go ahead. Most of these types will walk all over you without hesitation.”
The corners of her lips quirk. “Basically Mar Vista all over again.”
“Hey, you made it this far. Langston doesn’t even throw a backwards glance at average students so don’t knock what you’ve got,” he says, turning back to his phone.
“Thanks, um…” She looks pointedly at him and he just stares back. After a moment, he rises to his feet and grabs the jacket hanging on the back of his chair.
“Nope.”
The silence that follows feels like a punch to the gut.
“No…?” she slowly says.
“No need for it.” He slips the jacket on and zips it up. When he glances back at her, she slightly shifts away. “Go find your friend. I’m getting out of here.”
Before she can call out, he turns heel and walks off the porch into the night. People dodge out of his way pretty quickly on approach and she realizes that he walks tall, undeterred.
A few long minutes pass before she makes her way back through the house and back at Ingrid’s side. She shares a small smile and grabs Ingrid’s hand. Tatum regales another story of something his parents did but he had nothing to do with and all Deidre can think about is that weird boy with the leather jacket.
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moeruhoshi · 5 years
Text
getting ready for school so here we go again
I’ve been working on this idea for a while, this is just a rough sketch of an AU I lowkey wanna turn into a multi-chap
Lucy sighed for the umpteenth time as she stared out the window, her mind in another place as the teacher drawled on with the lesson. She found herself zoning out like this often, not because she was under a lot of stress or anything, even though it was her senior year. 
Besides, Macao-sensei really knew how to talk about one particular fact for twenty long minutes; most of the class was either avoiding his gaze or finding themselves daydreaming at this point.
It had been about four or so months since the school year started and the foolish, idiotic men of Magnolia High still had an annoying pact set in stone, preventing anyone from asking Lucy Heartfilia out.
Who the hell were they to decide who she would date or not?! And what the hell were they planning to do when Lucy actually started dating someone? 
The whole bullshit system practically began as soon as she took her first steps onto campus by a group of third years, and the baton had been passed on ever since. Lucy had yet to find out who was at the center of this weird fan group, but they’d face a world of hurt for ruining her high school life like this.
Not that Lucy had especially wanted a boyfriend, wasn’t it just one of those things a girl wanted to experience at least once with someone before college? Lucy had grown up reading a lot of romantic stories that had her wishing to meet someone who wanted to hold and cherish her for something more than her looks. 
Lucy blushed at the thought, but she was a grown woman! Some things couldn’t be solved by reading one of Erza’s novels, no matter how many the blonde was given. Although Lucy was pretty sure she was just shoving them onto her so Jellal wouldn’t find out that Erza had such an extensive collection.
She thought she would be quick to accept her first confession, as long as whoever gave it to her had good intentions. If he was smart enough to ignore this shitty pact then, wouldn’t he be a good person to date? It felt like asking too much for him to be a good looking guy that was slightly muscular and had sharp eyes like a warrior…maybe a bit possessive...Lucy blamed Erza for creating such weird standards held in her heart. But any girl would be excited if a pretty boy were to confess his love for her;
“E-E-Eh…?! Y-You’d really want someone like me…?” She flushes as he takes her hand, eyes earnest and unwavering.
“I’ve loved you for a long time...please...You’re the only one for me,” He pulls her close to his chest as he wraps his arms around her and declares that he’ll never let her go.
Something like that seemed a bit dramatic but so what? It was hard for a guy to even befriend her since the rumor being spread that she was supposedly some perfect angel with an incredibly high standard for friends and men.
Lucy wasn’t anything special, she felt that she was your average teenage girl that had a knack for cooking, studying, and was weak for the occasional visit to a cute café. Lucy and her friends had known each other since primary school, but it wasn’t like we weren’t looking for new additions to their group. As long as you were friendly, could get along properly with Erza, and learned to handle Juvia’s obsessive behavior, then they had no issues befriending anyone. 
She’d go over the school's intercom and shout those exact words if she didn’t think it’d make her look somewhat desperate and kind of a pervert.
Lucy wanted a boyfriend. She really wanted a boyfriend! And she had wished intensely for someone kind-hearted to enter her life before leaving this school. A little part of her wanted to make a statement to those jerks that started this, but Lucy honestly just wanted to learn how to fall in love. Didn’t she deserve that much?
“Lucy!” Levy shouted and shocked her out of her thoughts, almost startling her out of her desk.
“A-Ah! Gomen, I was spacing out,” Lucy laughed awkwardly as she finally noticed her friends crowding around her desk.
“That’s the third time Levy called you,” Erza pointed out, hand resting on her hip. “You’re not sick are you?”
“Not at all, I was just daydreaming.” Lucy sweatdropped, glad to stop Erza’s train of thought before she was covering her with an unnecessary amount of bandages and shoved into an infirmary bed.
“Class ended a couple minutes ago, didn’t Lucy-san notice?” Juvia asked, her hands clutching her bag straps nervously as she anticipated their leave.
“Yeah, let’s hurry up Lucy-chan, can’t you see Juvia wants to go stare down her crush before he leaves?” Cana hummed, the rest giggling as the blue-haired girl flinched and began to sweat slightly.
“I-Is Juvia that obvious…?”
“Painfully,” Lucy laughed as she stood from her seat and grabbed ahold of her own bag. “Let’s hurry before you miss him.”
“Heartfillia, McGarden! Don’t forget that you two have classroom duties!” Macao-sensei shouted in their direction, halting the group as they were almost out the door.
“Aww man, Lucy I have a job interview to get to! At that charming bookstore too…” Levy sobbed, eyes dramatic as she looked back over her shoulder.
“Don’t worry about it, Levy-chan. I can cover for both of us,” Lucy rolled her eyes but grabbed her hands with a broad grin. “You really need to get that job so I can get a discount on a crap ton of books.”
“Ah! You’re the best, Lu-chan! I’m taking you out for lunch once I do get it!” The shorter brunette clapped as she ran out the door, rushing away to quickly get to the said establishment.
“Are you sure you don’t need any help? I’d be glad to stay behind with you.” Erza offered with a small smile.
“I can handle it, besides I think the two of you need to make sure Juvia doesn’t jump that poor kohai,” Lucy insisted as the antsy girl whisked herself down the hall just as soon as Levy did, muttering consistently about her precious ‘Gray-sama’.
An hour or so later, Lucy was soon walking downstairs with a sigh of relief. Cleaning the classroom wasn’t terribly hard work, but it always took twice as long with half the staff. She deserved a nice long bubble bath tonight.
As soon as she flipped open her shoe locker open, Lucy could have sworn that her heart had stopped beating for a moment. It was as if time stood still, her eyes frosting over at the sight of a very pink piece of paper.
Her hands trembled as she removed the folded slip of paper from atop her shoes, her breath shaky as she opened and read what had been written. It wasn’t possible…had she finally received a love letter…? 
Well, not as much a love letter but someone asking to meet her behind the school near the old willowed sakura tree. Who would ask a girl to meet them there if not to confess their love?!
“O-Oh Mavis…I’m a bit too excited, a-aren’t I?” Lucy gulped as she gripped the straps of her bag, clenching the paper that requested her appearance as she began walking through the courtyard. The blonde nervously skimmed back over the note, sighing happily even with the short amount of words left for.
‘Lucy, I’ll be waiting by the sakura tree for you after school lets out. I hope to see you there. Signed Anonymous’
“W-Wait, after school?!” Lucy gasped, noticing the sun setting slightly and the orange tint to the sky, depicting just how late it had gotten. “It’s already so late! What if he left…?!” She hurried her steps as she rounded the school building, thankful that no one seemed to be around to see her rushing towards the tree with such a red face. As she approached the area, her heart began to sink as she looked around, failing to see another person. The one day she decided to take her sweet time…
Her lip quivered as she stood in front of the sakura tree, sad to find no one sitting or standing against it on either side, the surrounding benches empty, and the courtyard deserted. Lucy felt tears prick the corner of her eyes as she sat reluctantly on the wooden seat, feeling a heavy disappointment in her heart. It wasn’t like she could expect him to wait...after all, she was an hour late.
“E-Eh?! L-L-Lucy-senpai?!” A voice sounded from before her, Lucy quickly raising her head to see who it was. His eyes were wide and his face was red, matching his odd pink hair, sharp onyx eyes cast over her as she rushed to wipe her tears away.
“Y-You are…?” She presumed him to be the boy she was to meet and quickly stood up, her bag falling over as the contents spilled around their feet. Frantic, she dropped to her knees to haphazardly shove her back into her bag, the unnamed boy crouching to help her as well. Their fingers brushed lightly against each other as they both reached for her pencil case, their eyes meeting and their embarrassment growing with heat present in their cheeks. “T-T-Thank you.”
“You...Lucy-senpai, you were crying...are you okay?” He asked, holding out his hand to help her up.
“O-Oh! Yes, I’m fine…!” She tried to convince him, hoping her mascara hadn’t run or instead didn’t want to admit how she was crying because she thought he had left her behind. That was if he was the one who wanted to meet her.
“I’m glad you came, I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you, I went to get a drink.” He chuckled lightly as he held the bottle of dragon fruit tea up for her to see.
“N-No, I’m sorry I was late, I was doing classroom duties.” She explained, his features lighting up as she said so.
“I’m glad,” He sighed. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”
“What did you need to ask me?” Lucy mumbled quietly as she stared down at her feet, attempting to hide her blush.
“I’m Natsu Dragneel, I’m a first-year...but I still wanted to tell you how much I like you...would you do the honor of becoming my girlfriend?” He bowed, voice thick in the air as his question rang in her ears, her cheeks aflame and her heart hammering in her chest. 
The wind rushed past the two of them, scattering the petals of the tree and surrounded them as Lucy lifted her head and met the sight of his still bowed form.
“Yes...I will,”
94 notes · View notes
bo0zey · 4 years
Note
Pick your favorite questions from the list.
i will do them all for u 0.o
1. Name cianna [see-ah-nah]
2. Nationality mexican irish german romanian hungarian french
3. Age 20
4. Birthday december 17, 1999
5. Zodiac sign (or your primal zodiac sign) sun: sagittarius; ascendant: leo; moon: aries
6. Gender female
7. Sexuality uhhhhhhhhhhhh idk but i will willingly kiss either gender
8. Your looks (add a picture or describe yourself) /tagged/my-face or u could just google pictures of fat rats
9. What do you/did you study? I’m currently a sophomore nursing major!
10. What's your current job like?/What job would you like to have? I’m currently a microbiology TA and I love it :) My dream job would be something with animals, like a vet tech or veterinarian
11. Your birth order i’m the oldest!
12. How many siblings do you have? 2 younger brothers
13. Do you have good relations with your family? my mom was my best friend, my dad and i get along better now that i’m in college, my brothers and i get along pretty well & we’re staring to get closer now that they’re getting older n growing up n developing their own personalities lol
14. How many friends do you have? errrr idk this is a hard question. i have a lot of acquaintances but i’d say i have maybe like less than 10 real friends??
15. Your relationship status single :D
16. What do you look for in a SO? funny!!!!!!!!!must be humorous!!!!and sarcastic and a little weird w darker sense of humor so we can laugh n be dumb together!!!!!!! also i would like them to be kind to me and those around them bc mean ppl suck. also they have to like animals. also i would like them to be loyal and trustworthy and 110% in love w me. and for physical stuff idk kinda attractive but NOT CONVENTIONALLY ATTRACTIVE like i personally don't really like the typically ‘attractive’ person??? 
17. Do you have a crush? currently in love w the cute chinese boy who lives across from my dorm room even tho i have never even spoken to him n he is totally unaware of my existence!!!!!!!! hahah oops :D
18. When did you have your first kiss? i mean technically 3rd grade i think but that doesn't really count so like maybe 16????
19. Do you prefer serious and meaningful relationships or casual dating/one night stands? i mean in the long term i would definitely like to have a serious relationship but at the moment i’m only into casual stuff bc my heart isn't ready to be broken again sknfkjdbnkjd
20. What are your deal breakers? errrr i’m not sure....cheating is a no no, ppl that are interested in fucking every single person they see is a turn off, DUMB PEOPLE like ppl you can't even have a proper conversation with bc they're so DUMB, and ppl who r mean/judgmental/arrogant
21. How was your day? ok! accidentally slept thru my math class but caught a glimpse of my crush across campus when he was abt to smoke a cig and i got chipotle n i online shopped a ton from shein
22. Favourite food & drink deep dish spinach pizza from giordano’s & orange vitamin water
23. What position do you sleep in? i fall asleep on my left side hugging a body pillow
24. What was your last dream about? ate a braid of hair and inside the braid was bacon
25. Your fears not going to make it thru nursing school, not being financially stable as an adult, not having a family of my own, probably more but those r currently top 3
26. Your dreams i don't have any idk....maybe having like a house of my own and having as many animals as i want?? and i would like a loving partner with a daughter of our own
27. Your goals survive nursing school and lose 40 pounds and don't die before my cat
28. Any pets? i have a dog named cherry Cola, a cat named Leto, and a betta fish named Perc
29. What are your hobbies? writing stories about people in love, listening to music
30. Any cool places in your area? in my college town??? NO it sucks. in my hometown??? Not really it’s a small lil village with only restaurants and parks. but at home i’m near downtown chicago so that’s cool i guess
31. What was your last awkward situation? the first thing that comes to mind is my FIRST and so far ONLY encounter with my crush. we live in the same dorm building and i was wearing my nursing scrubs and had no make up on and about to go upstairs to my dorm, and then i heard footsteps and i was like ‘hahaha what if its my crush’ AND THEN HE FUCKIGJNG appeared from down the hallway to go back to HIS DORM [which is RIGHT ACROSS FROM MINE] and i literally STARED at him, then threw open the door and RAN UP THE STAIRS LIKE I LITERALLY DIDNT EVEN HOLD THE DOOR OPEN FOR ME AND HE WAS LIKE SO CLOSE BEHIND ME I WAS JUST SO NERVOUS MY FLIGHT OR FIGHT RESPONSE TOOK OVER AND I FUCKING FLED I LITERALLY RAN AWAY FROM HIM I AHTE MYSELF SO MUCH IM SUCH AN IDIOT!!!!!!!!!
32. What is your last regret? errrrr idk i regret a lot of dumb things.......
33. Language/s you can speak English n a LITTLE bit of Spanish
34. Do you believe in astrological stuff? (Zodiac, tarot, etc.) i’m really into zodiac stuff and i have got to say they are pretty spot on in accuracy idk
35. Have any quirks? ummmm ofc!!i am the quirkiest person i know hajnjfxbkjx like if u asked my roommates/friends they’d probably be better at answering this than me bc i don't see anything abt me as quirky but they always tell me i am quirky and do weird things but idk man I'm just existing 
36. Your pet peeves err idk currently its ppl that constantly brag about dumb shit
37. Ideal vacation somewhere warm with me + the ocean + the loml + unlimited alcohol
38. Any scars? yeah :D both emotional AND physical!!!!
39. What does your last text message say? ‘ok thats a more than fair statement’
40. Last 5 things from your search history how many carbs should i eat, chipotle bowl calories, is the grim reaper the angel of death, ceftriaxone adverse effects, red man syndrome
41. What's your [device] background? lockscreen is a peach-theme background i made and home screen is my weight loss goals
42. What do you daydream about? the characters in my stories.................and being skinny 
43. Describe your dream home pretty brick house??? flowers outside??? 3 floors--main floor, basement and upstairs??? 3 bedrooms n 3 bathrooms maybe??? master bedroom has its own bathroom!!! and open concept main floor. big kitchen and very homey n warm all around. as for like an apartment i want something cozy and aesthetically pleasing and warm 
44. What's your religion/Your thought about religion i don't have a religion but if ppl do have a religion then thats not my business
45. Your personality type entj but only bc i got 3% extraverted; i am very closely related to intj tho n i think i fit that one better
46. The most dangerous thing you've done uhhhhhh probably operating a vehicle while high out of my mind. definitely the dumbest thing i ever did 0/10 would recommend anyone ever doing that
47. Are you happy with your current life? its ok but it could probably be better. i want to be done w college and skip to the part where i have a successful career and my own home and i can lay up w the loml every night
48. Some things you've tried in your life alcohol???weed??gummy edibles....
49. What does your wardrobe consist of? sweaters/sweatshirts/leggings
50. Favourite colour to wear? black, maroon, peach, purple, gray, idk
51. How would you describe your style? oh jeez idk i wear whatever i want so like e-girl when i really try and basic white girl when i don't care
52. Are you happy with your current looks? no i hate everything about myself lol
53. If you could change/add something to your appearance - impossible or not - what would it be? more freckles on my face....also be thinner n have longer hair
54. Any tattoos or piercings? my nose and septum are pierced!
55. Do you get complimented often? kinda by my friends but i always yell at them to stop so they don't compliment like as much bc they know i hate it but they still do it sometimes idk
56. Favourite aesthetic? i wanna be an e-girl yo!!!!!!!!! 
57. A popular trend that you dislike nobody has a crush on me and i hate it
58. Songs you're currently obsessed with? pied piper by BTS
59. Song you normally wouldn't admit you like. anything by BTS lol i used to like be embarrassed for how much i like k pop but now i don't really care lol #stanBTS2020
60. Favourite genre? rap/r n b/alternative
61. Favourite artist/band/genre? i listen to every genre except country sooooooo yeah i really like billie eilish, BTS, the weeknd, juicewrld, lil nas x, trippie red, post malone,
62. Hated popular songs/artists? i don't rlly like selena gomez or justin bieber or taylor swift
63. Put your music on shuffle and list first 5 only - RY X i.f.l.y. - Bazzi novacane - frank ocean jungle - drake bang! - trippie redd
64. Can you sing or play any instruments? no and no
65. Do you like karaoke? no but i like to sing along to songs when I'm alone
66. Own any albums? haha noooo i got apple music son
67. Do you listen to radio? What stations? errr RARELY i used to listen to r n b stations tho
68. Favourite movie/series? idk donnie darko?? i also just finished tharntype n that was really good. also i liked tokyo ghoul. AND GIVEN IS REALLY GOOD
69. Favourite genre of movies/books/etc i like horror/scary/paranormal/funny movies and i like love stories in books
70. Your fictional crush/es danny phantom, ken kaneki
71. Which fictional character is you? uhhhh idk...
72. Are you a shipper? List your otps, if so frerard, ryden, taekook, mewgulf
73. Favourite greek god? idk they all kinda suck but maybe hades
74. A legend from where you live that you like i don't really know any:(
75. Do you like art? What's your favourite work or artist? i like to look at art! i think van gogh is cool
76. Can you share your other social media? ig: ciannnna venmo: ciannnna
77. Favourite youtubers? i don't really watch youtubers but maybe shane dawson and emma chamberlain
78. Favourite platform? twitter
79. How much time do you spend on the internet? too much time
80. What video games have you played? Which one's your favourite? i once played GTA5 that was fun!
81. Your favourite books (manga also counts) idk i don't really read anymore:/ i was into the hunger games and the twilight series when i was young. now i kinda read online manga and i really liked BJ Alex and killing stalking. and like for online books the unholyverse series, a splitting of the mind, the anatomy of a fall
82. Do you play board/card games? no but i like to play checkers and uno and cards against humanity
83. Have you ever been to a night marathon in cinema? nopee
84. Favourite holiday halloween is cool also christmas is alright bc gifts
85. Are you into dramas? i’ve been getting into thai boys love dramas lol sue me
86. Would you use death note, if you had one? um YES.
87. What changes would you make in the world, no matter how impossible, if you had the power to? everyone needs to be a little kinder and have a crush on me
88. Could you survive a zombie apocalypse? absolutely not I'm not physically fit and don't have useful skills
89. If you had to be turned into a paranormal being, what would it be? vampire duh [or maybe ghost]
90. What would you want to happen to you after your death? i want to see my mom
91. If you had to change your name, what would be your pick? idk something cool ... i love the name Daisy
92. Who would you switch your life with for a week? idk probably kylie jenner
93. Pick an emoji to be your tattoo idk the alien? 94. Write 3 things about yourself - only one of them must be true -im very productive with my time management skills -my favorite color is purple -i don't get nervous when I'm alone in public
95. Cold or hot? cold
96. Be a hero or be a villain? anti-hero
97. Sing everything you want to say or rhyme? sing if i’m good at it but if I'm not good then rhyme
98. Shapeshifting or controlling time? shapeshifting
99. Be immortal or be immune to everything aside from natural death?immortal
100. ..... or .....? ......?
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pfenniged · 4 years
Text
 tagged by @anathenma WOO GIRL <3
rules: tag 10 followers you want to get to know better
name: Lauren
gender: Female
star sign: Virgo Sun || Leo Moon || Leo Ascendent, which basically means I have the usually quiet reserved personality of an analytical, organised virgo on the fact of things, am usually the goofy, chill friend amongst my friends, and don’t like to take anyone’s shit, but if I am disrespected, I’m a sensitive six foot flower and withdraw from the world until I can get over it. xD I don’t like conflict.
height: 183cm/6 feet 
age: 27 (YIKES XD)
wallpaper on my phone: (I had to check XD) A calendar of May 2020 stylistically arranged around ribbons
house: Slytherin
ever crush on a teacher: Both my parents and my uncle are teachers and consequently I knew every teacher in my school as actual human people and not ‘crushes’ growing up. So no. XD
coolest halloween costume: I went as the Starbucks logo one year when I was eight, a gigantic Lady Luck die one year with a top hat covered in poker chips and cards. I had some good ones I made: I was creative as fuck when I was 9-11 especially, and I had to be, because I was already around 5′7 and people assumed I was just some weirdo dressing up to get candy (Hearing ‘AREN’T YOU A LITTLE OLD TO BE TRICK OR TREATING’ at eleven CRUSHED me XD)
Favorite 90s tv show: 
Okay. So there’s one’s I watched actually as a child of the 90s, and ones that were just always ON in the 90s that I ended up watching. It’s debatable whether these are actually good NOW. XD
That being said, the background ones were Saved By the Bell (ZACH MORRIS IS TRAAAAassssh~~), Boy Meets World, Seinfeld, Everybody Loves Raymond.
As a kid, I loved the Aladdin Animated Series, The Hercules Animated Series, CHIP AND DALE RESCUE RANGERS (Which didn’t really hold up sadly but still has the best theme song of all time, fight me), and Timon and Pumbaa.
One I rarely caught but really liked was All That, The Wonder Years, Sabrina the Teenage Witch- occasionally Fresh Prince.
Out of all of these, I still have a super fond spot for Saved By the Bell, especially with the ‘Zach Morris is Trash’ series on Youtube (Seriously, go watch it. It’s fucking hilarious and basically breaks down how much of a serial killer in the making Zach Morris is XD). The clothing is ridiculous and no one really dressed like that in the early 90s outside of commercials and TV (unfortunately). Maybe one shoddy item out of the bunch. Meanwhile Saved by the Bell is like LETS PUT IT ALL ON. XD It was terrible once they got to college, but it was stupid and fun and made me feel ‘cool’ watching it because I was like three and being like, “YEAH, IT’S BRIGHT AND THESE PEOPLE ARE COOL AND I CAN FOLLOW THE PLOT. I’M MATURE.” XD It’s literally still the only one of these I actively watch now in the form of Zach Morris is Trash, so I’ll go with it. xD
Last kiss: Never had a consensual kiss. Make of that what you will. xD
Have you ever been stood up: Nope.
Favourite pair of shoes: 
I have terrible plantar fasciitis from sports, so I’m a shoe snob, and have to have properly fitting/constructed shoes. It depends on what I’m doing in them, really. I got a pair of trail running shoes for trail running during COVID, but they’re not the most aesthetically pleasing. I’d say the best mixture between comfort and style are either a good ol’pair of black ankle boots with a slight heel (so I can be 6′2 and intimidate people with my height muhahahaha), or more practically on a day to day basis, I have a pair of Reeboks that are 90s-styled with pastel pink and blue triangles on the side. They’re pretty dope. xD
have you ever been to vegas: No, but my parents have. Basically, they said you tire of shopping after two days, and then you’re just stuck inside hotels and shopping malls there. If you’re not a gambler, drinker, or have a ton of money to splash out on stage shows, I don’t think it’s particularly worth going.
favorite fruit: Mango or raspberry, but they’re super-expensive in the land of Maple Syrup so I usually don’t get them any other way other than frozen in smoothies.
Favourite book:
 I could never choose a favourite book. It’s literally like choosing between children. It’s my microcosmic version of Sophie’s Choice. xD Tasteless joke aside, it’d honestly depend on the occasion. There’s a huge difference between entertainment reading, literary exploits, and educating yourself through books as a whole. 
My ‘plane’ book (which I’m terrible at flying, so that was a joke), as in, an easy, fun, instantly rereadable read to read on the plane when I used to have super long fifteen hour flights to Australia, was always Mario Puzo’s ‘The Godfather,’ because I also had a huge crush on Michael Corleone. 
But it’s also not the ‘best’ book and literally spends an inordinate and honestly disturbing amount of time on the fact that this poor woman in the story (which thankfully in the film, it gets cut down), but the bridesmaid Sonny Corleone has sex with, and how you see his wife indicating his ‘size’?
THAT’S LITERALLY AN ENTIRE SUBPLOT OF THIS BROAD’S STORY I SHIT YOU NOT BECAUSE NOTHING IS ‘BIG’ ENOUGH FOR HER AFTER HIM AND THEN YOU FIND OUT SHE HAS A MEDICAL CONDITION AND GOOD FOR HER SHE’S ABLE TO FIND LOVE AGAIN BUT WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK MARIO PUZO XD IT WAS A LOT OKAY.
(Footnote: I also suffered through his horrific sequels because I love Michael Corleone and will take him in any form he comes in, even horrifically written Sicilian backhill exploits that were never told to us in the original book and were clearly just written because Puzo needed another pay check but I digress.)
Horrific subplots aside, I really enjoy The Godfather for its sheer pulpiness. The book is essentially what Andrew Lloyd Weber is to musicals. xD (Yes, I come with musical theatre burns. Fight me.)
In terms of a piece of literature that I think is amazingly well done? Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe, or Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury.
Stupidest thing you ever done: 
Um, maybe when I was at Cambridge I tried to dye my roots to match the rest of my ‘blonde’ hair at the time, and it turned out bright orange? And because it’s Cambridge, they had this super-strict attendance policy, so I was literally trying not to hyperventilate because it was running close to class (which was across campus) and I was trying to find some way to remedy my hair without it falling out/ someone asking about it. So, I grabbed a toque-cap-thing despite it being literally one of the hottest summer on record in the UK (It was like 35 degrees, it was MENTAL), and had to sprint to class all the way on the other side of campus from my college dodging dodgy tourist groups blocking the sidewalk while I went. Then when I sat down inside, I had to be weirdly rude and wear my hat inside the lecture hall even though the professor was looking at me (it was a specialised program in German Literature) like, “Are you going to take that shit off?” xD THEN I tried to dye it back to brown, and it literally looked like mud mixed with a runny egg had exploded on the top of my head; it was AWFUL. XD So FINALLY I did my research and found a salon, but by THAT point I had done 250 pounds worth of damage to my hair (WHICH IS LIKE 400 DOLLARS CANADIAN AT THE TIME), and I almost had a heart attack and thanked my lucky stars that I had money put away so I could give my parents the ‘parent price’ when they asked why they hadn’t seen me on FaceTime or Skype for like, three weeks, and I replaced my face with a photo of John Cleese from Fawlty Towers, which they tease me about to this day. xD
The other dumbest thing I ever said was when I was so desperate for friends in grade six when I moved to a new school (and because being American was ‘cool’ at the time, apparently), I told everyone I was a dual citizen because my mother LITERALLY GAVE BIRTH TO ME ON THE BORDER CROSSING WHAT. XD And bless this poor bespectacled girl named Mara (who was actually a little class friend of mine), who just said timidly in the back, “That’s not how citizenship works.” xD It basically came out of attempting to be cool and failing, but I’m still SO embarrassed about THAT one that I’d never admit it to ANYONE besides shouting it out into the Tumblr black hole. xD I’m still embarrassed to THIS DAY.
All time favorite shows: 
 I’ll go for the original run of The Twilight Zone, which has some schmaltzy episodes (I’m really not a fan of any of the episodes entirely dedicated to the Space Race or the weird cowboy fanaticism of the fifties/ sixties, or anything that’s overtly like “ALIENS DID IT SO THERE”), but I LOVE their psychological horror episodes or Dystopian episodes. It’s when Rod Serling’s writing and narrative voice is the strongest and most prophetic, and the twists are usually the best. Other shows have tries to imitate it, or reboot it, but I really think the original, due to Rod Serling’s unmatchable voice, in every sense of the word. There’s lists of some of the greatest episodes, but I remember LOVING the episode ‘A Stop at Willoughby.’ The twist literally made me clap my hands in horror and delight, it was amazing. xD
Other than that? Off the top of my head, Mad Men and Band of Brothers, even though I haven’t rewatched either in ages.
last movie you saw in theaters: 
Oh God, before all THIS hit? Probably Rise of Skywalker. I get agoraphobic and itchy if a movie theatre is too busy, and we only have really pokey sort of ones nearby that you’re guaranteed to see someone you went to high school with (terrible), so now that I can properly drive I go out to the big redneck theatre out in the boonies. I miss living in Montreal though, because when you live in a big city like that downtown (and can actually afford to live there), you could see blockbuster movies at like ten in the morning. xD Which would be AMAZING because I’d go to see any of the early Avengers/Marvel movies when they opened, the day of opening, and it was literally me, one old man who fell asleep halfway through and sat near the back, and maybe an elderly couple on a morning date to the movies. xD I get really annoyed with obnoxious movie-goers, and I’m really picky about just being completely absorbed in the movie, so I tend not to go unless I’m guaranteed that space. 
tagging: Anyone who wishes to tag me back so I can learn about them <3
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tired-pokemon-boi · 6 years
Text
Pokemon FanFiction Chapter 1: Who is this Girl?
“Charizard use Flamethrower!” Alex yelled from below to his Pokemon.
He loved this, the feeling of a Pokemon battle. He could see his Pokemon high up in the air, dodging and flying around his opponents Pokemon. Soaring as it battled a large cream colored Pidgeot the large orange fiery lizard pushed itself backwards and blew fire from its mouth. The bird screeched in pain as it took the hit and started to descend from the air. “Use Hurricane!” his opponent yelled to his own Pokemon. Pidgeot opened its eye and caught itself a few inches from where it took the hit. It lifted its wings and started flapping faster, its wings started to glow brighter and brighter until pure white. From the flapping wings, powerful bursts of wind smashed into Alex’s Charizard sending it flying backwards and smashing into the nearby wall. Alex could tell that Charizard had taken a lot of damage, and the Pidgeot’s attack seemed to never end. The gusts of winds were pushing Charizard further into the white walls, he needed to act fast. Was there any move he had that was super effective against a flying type? He needed a plan or he would lose, there had to something he could…
“HELLO, I’M TRYING TO TALK TO YOU!”
Alex blinked as he remembered he wasn’t really in the battle, it was a battle simulation on his computer and he was actually in the school library. He turned to see who had poked his shoulder and yelled into his ear for his attention, rarely anyone talked to him from school. It was a girl, which confused him more. The first thing he noticed was her long red curly hair, she had it in a bun, the bun wasn’t like normal ones he could tell she had a lot of it and it seemed untamable. She was about as tan as he was, but her face was covered in small darker freckles. She wore a black tank top with a regular Pokeball in the middle with the words “PokeAcademy” underneath the Pokeball to symbolize the school they both attended. She also wore a red and black checkered flannel over top completely unbuttoned. He was confused as to why she was even wearing it if she didn’t have it buttoned all the way, I mean it was September and starting to get kind of chilly but why have it all unbuttoned? I mean didn’t she know he could see… He quickly made sure he was staring into her eyes. Her green eyes stared back into his for a moment and then looked away and he thought for a second she was blushing before her lips puckered, her eyes narrowed, glancing away from his and said to him:
“Is it okay if I sit here? All the other people are weird…”
 He looked around the library and knew she was totally bluffing. The library was huge, the university was made for hundreds of students that came from all over the world, so there was no way the library would be that crammed that you had no room to be by yourself. He could see there were hundreds of other places to sit, other tables, chairs, computer areas, and he knew there were many more seats past the vast number of bookshelves and cubicles. But she was cute and she did ask him. Fine. He shrugged and motioned to the chair in front of him. She plopped down in the cushioned seat, opened her messenger bag with a black laptop that looked as heavy as a brick. He smirked at her laptop that had stickers of Ponytas and Mubrays all over it, so she was a horse girl?
She blushed and glared at him, “This is the only laptop I had at home, I’ve had it since I was little, so hush. Plus, it still works… I mean it has kinks and stuff but… hush.”
 He smirked and continued to work on his holographic screen laptop that he bought a year ago. She began to boot up her laptop and fish through her backpack for a textbook. After finally grabbing her textbook she grabbed her pair of glasses that looked like something a very small child would wear and started flipping through the pages of her textbook. His smile widened, wait why was he smiling so much? He didn’t usually talk to people on campus, but more importantly he didn’t even know this girl! Yet though, her presence felt inviting and warm, he felt like he wanted to know this girl more. Usually the people on the campus annoyed him and he didn’t want to make friends. Everyone was an obstacle for him to obtain his goal, and he didn’t want friends, plus they especially didn’t want him…
“So are you going to stare at me all day, or are you going to tell me your name, small one.”
 His smile faded, he blushed for not realizing he had spaced out and had been blankly staring at her. He then quickly changed his face to be glaring at her after realizing what she had just said. Small one!? He ignored the nickname,
 “ummm… the name’s Alex, what’s yours?”
 She smirked as she began booting up her laptop and flipping through pages of Pokémon Types, The Advantages and Disadvantages,
 “Bethany.”
They talked for a while and he found out she was in the same degree and year as him. He also found that Bethany was a transfer student from the Kanto Region Academy school.
“Oh hey, I’ve been to Kanto! Well kind of… more like the Sevii Islands with my family. But that still counts, right?”
 She rolled her eyes, “No.”
 She then placed earbuds into her ears and began typing away after reaching the page she was looking for and began to start working on something.
Okay, back to what I was working on then, he thought to himself. He started at this school two years ago, took every class possible to get his degree finished as soon as possible and now he was almost done with this school. That meant that in two more semesters he would get to take the exam and get his trainer license and be able to become a real Pokemon Trainer. I mean, everyone can become a Pokemon Trainer, however if you go to college, get good grades, and do really well on the exams, you can have sponsors who will pay for your journey, since for some reason his parents didn’t want to support his expensive dreams. Alex used to live in Opelicud City, a place where you could see the beautiful and powerful dragon type Pokemon flying through the night sky, where the powerful gym leader, Drayden lived and battled trainers that dared to challenge him. His parents had always wanted him to follow in their footsteps and become researchers, but that was not something Alex was really interested in. True he loved to over-analyze, theorize and plan out everything when it comes to certain Pokemon and the way a battle could play out, but he didn’t want to be what his parents were.
 Boring. 
Plus, there wasn’t a lot of money involved into it unless you were famous like Professor Oak or Juniper. The most important reason however was that becoming a researcher took a lot of time, so you didn’t have time to battle and train and stuff. That was a passion Alex could not just pass down. Alex wanted to become a Pokemon Master. He wanted to go out and experience the world, battle really strong trainers from tons of different regions, use many different kinds of Pokemon, and become a champion in every region. He worked so hard for his degree practicing every night on the battle simulator the school provided. He started to go back to his simulation when Bethany chimed,
“You know those computer battle simulations do not help you become a better Pokemon Trainer, right?”
 He tensed and looked over his laptop again, “What do you mean? Of course, they do.”
He exited from the battle he was losing, opened the chart, and flipped his screen over to her.
“The Battle Simulator teaches you the idea of the 16 different types of Pokemon, it can show their EVs, IVs, Abilities, and gives you the ability to look at certain moves and whether or not they work for each Pokemon. It’s the closest thing to teaching everyone how to properly battle against all 807 different Pokemon including the legendary Pokemon and Ultra Beasts.”
She sighed, pulled out a notebook and opened it into a bunch of her scribbled out notes, “Yes but think about it, in the real-world Pokemon know more than just four moves. Plus, type advantages and these so-called “EV and IVs” don’t always mean everything in battles, they just might give you a slight advantage. You need to look at certain ideas like terrain, the care you give the Pokemon, the experience you have as a trainer, trust the Pokemon has for you, and the fact of the matter is, moves like flamethrower don’t have 100% accuracy boy, almost all moves can miss because Pokemon don’t just stand still in battle and let themselves get hit. How many battles have you participated for real anyway?”
Wow. He never thought of that before. He blushed at the second part of her statement- dang she could really make him blush,
“Not yet… I just got my first Pokemon since the academy only allows students to have their beginning Pokemon to second semester juniors and seniors. Plus, I never really participated in the school funded battle tournaments because well, I never had anyone to really participate with…”
 He had always been considered the loner since coming to this campus, and also the big nerd. Nobody really talked to him unless you count the professors who might know his parents, or some students looking for tutoring lessons on certain classes he was excelling in. Other than that, nobody asked him to participate in real battles. Probably because he was boring or too nerdy…
Her eyes bugged out, she took off her small glasses and closed her laptop loudly, making him jump because he was kind of scared for that laptop seeing how old it was,
“Hey… ummm, I know we are talking about something important and all but… could we get lunch first… I actually have no idea where the cafeteria is because today is my first day here,” she then poked his shoulder from across the table, “and I pick you to take me there.”
He sighed but smiled, who was this woman?
Hey guys this is the first chapter of my FanFiction that I will be posting every Friday at noon! From now on the chapters will be broken into parts so they can be shorter and quicker reads for everyone! So the next chapter might be 2 weeks long rather than just one.
If you liked what you read please like, reblog and/or comment! Feedback is super important for me and it will make me want to keep writing! You can also ask questions or send me stuff in my ask box if you want more in depth stuff about my story or you just want to tell me how I’m doing! Hope you enjoyed!  
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The Old College Try: Part 2 (Lin/Reader college roommate!AU)
Summary: You spent the summer before your freshman year of college thinking your roommate was going to be a girl named Lin. When you get to campus, that’s not what you find.
Part Two: In which there are crayon contracts and costume parties, but definitely no jealousy.
Note: Sorry this took me so long to get out! Now that the story is completely outline, it should flow a lot faster. I’m pretty sure this is Part 2 out of 4.
You can find Part One here!
You can find Part Three here!
A few people asked to be tagged, so this is that!: @icanneverbesatisfied @clamilton @moonchildcharm @danspepes @calumbeans @blueco16 @brigzter-ly @21phantasticromances @picklessfights @thedoctorsnerdgirl @smileystumph @beestigo @lindsay-grey
Rating: T
Words: 4021
“You have to promise not to be mad at me.”
You looked up from your laptop and saw Lin peeking his head into the room. He was using the door to obscure whatever he had done that he expected you to be angry about and you felt yourself get preemptively annoyed.
“No,” you answered curtly. “What did you do?”
He gave you a sheepish smile and opened the door wider, revealing an electric keyboard on a stand.
“Oh, come on, Lin. Do I really have to get out the file?”
The file was born of your first big argument with Lin that came only a week or two after move-in day. He had seemed determined to fill your shared dorm room with as much impractical crap as he possibly could. A bookcase, a water cooler, a coat rack. If someone was giving it away, Lin was taking it. The breaking point was walking into your room after a particularly long day and tripping over a giant bean bag chair. You yelled at him for being inconsiderate and he yelled at you for being a control freak. It was loud and ugly, and thinking about it made you cringe even now.
Lin was the one to end the argument when he went out and bought a pack of crayons and some printer paper.
You felt pretty stupid, pacing back and forth outside of your building.
It wasn’t like you to yell over something that really wasn’t a big deal, and it certainly wasn’t like you to storm out in the middle of an argument like some sort of soap opera character. The truth was that you were just stretched a little thin. School was proving to be harder than you thought it would be, you were dealing with the stress of being surrounded by all new people, and you were still kind of uncomfortable in your room with Lin. All of that (plus a lack of sleep) had led to you losing your shit over an oversized bean bag chair. It wasn’t your finest moment.
You had walked all over campus, at first to cool off and get some space and then because you were embarrassed and didn’t really want to face Lin. Now your feet were sore and you really needed to go up to your room and get your books for your evening class. You considered texting one of the girls and having them bring you your things, but rolled your eyes at your own dramatics and finally went inside.
Walking into your room, you found Lin sitting in his desk chair. He was bouncing one of his legs and chewing at his thumbnail, and you could practically feel the anxiety rolling off him. He leapt from his seat when he heard you walk in, and the two of you started speaking at the same time.
“I really didn’t mean-”
“I’m so sorry I-”
You both started laughing and the tension eased dramatically. You let Lin speak first.
“I’m really sorry that I yelled. I’ve felt like shit since it happened.”
“No,” you shook your head. “I’m the one who raised my voice first.”
“Yeah, but I’m the one who gave you a reason to raise your voice. I really have been kind of taking over the room.”
“Well…I guess I can’t really argue with that,” you said, your lips twitching upwards when Lin snorted.
“It’s really big of you to admit that I was the one in the wrong,” teased Lin.
“I know,” you responded with a grin. “It took a lot of strength on my part.”
“Well, I think you’ll be pleased to know that in your absence I came up with gentler way to handle our disagreements from here on out.”
As he said this, Lin grabbed a piece of paper off his desk and handed it to you. You laughed out loud when you saw he had drawn up a contract in orange crayon, agreeing that all future items had to be approved by both of you before they came home. You quirked a brow when you read the fine print.
“I think I’m going to have to let my lawyers look at this. You seem to want me to promise to leave my bed unmade one day a week, and I’m not seeing the relevancy.”
“You were right about me being inconsiderate. I think you can grant me that you’re a little bit of a control freak. This will be good for you,” he smirked.
“Fine,” you conceded. “I think we need someone to witness our signing this. I don’t trust you not to forge my signature on future contracts.”
“I’ll go get Lanie,” he said with a laugh and a roll of his eyes.
“Hey,” you called just before he left the room. “Can I ask why the crayons?”
“These are legal documents. I couldn’t very well use magic marker, could I?”
That first fight had really been a blessing in disguise. It erased any lingering awkwardness between the two of you, and it gave you a way to end all the petty arguments that came with living with someone. Believe it or not, it’s really difficult to stay mad at a person after you watch them sign their name in crayon.
The envelope that held your contracts was now bursting with them, each one more absurd than the last, but your system was working. Needless to say, you weren’t pleased with his backsliding.
“I know I promised no more of this, but I needed this keyboard and if I waited to talk it over, somebody else would have taken it,” he hurriedly explained.
Lin had gotten rid of a lot of the junk he accumulated during those first few days, but there still wasn’t a ton of free space in the room.
“You know we’re going to have no place to walk. And when are you even going to play it? There are quiet hours in this building after dark, and you’re going to drive everyone nuts during the day.”
He smiled and wordlessly pointed to the headphone jack. Your eyes rolled upwards and you tapped your nails on your desk in frustration. It was only when you saw him nervously biting his lip that you softened.
“Okay, you can keep the keyboard.”
You laughed when he charged over to hug you and smacked a kiss on your cheek, making you blush despite yourself. Lin had quickly become your best friend on campus, but he was still a cute guy, and sometimes the close proximity made you a little more rattled than you would have liked to admit.
“I do kind of feel like you owed me this one,” he said as he dragged the instrument inside. “You screamed at me over that bean bag chair and now you use it more than I do.”
“I think ‘screamed’ is overstating it a little, don’t you?”
“I don’t know, I still feel traumatized,” he pouted, prompting you to throw a pen at him. “See what I mean? There’s that raging temper again.”
“I’m going to move on before you see my actual raging temper,” you joked, glancing at the clock. “Come on, we’ve both got to head out.”
You finally had your schedule down to a science, and you felt much more on top of things than you had at first. You and Lin both had a full morning of classes that day, and you would meet back at your dorm in the afternoon for a quick nap. After your nap, you’d head out together to the one class you shared. It happened the same way every week, and the routine was nice.
“See you in a few hours,” Lin said, quickly kissing your cheek again and heading towards his class.
You mentally kicked yourself as your heart rate picked up. It wasn’t that you had a crush on Lin, it was just that he was attractive and very casually affectionate. It would take getting used to. That was all there was to it.
“You and lover boy are sickeningly cute.”
You nearly jumped out of your skin as Tess appeared out of nowhere and linked your arm with hers.
“Jesus, where did you come from? And please shut up. You know it’s not like that.”
“I know that you’re trying desperately to keep it ‘not like that’,” she said. “But I’ll keep my mouth shut. It’s just a matter of time.”
“I look forward to the mouth shutting,” you retorted. “It hasn’t happened yet, but I’m hopeful.”
Tess, never one to take things personally, grinned and pulled you in closer. After Lin, she and Lanie were your closest friends, and the four of you had become kind of a unit.
“There are a few parties happening tonight. Would you be interested?” she offered.
“Can’t. It’s a Thursday.”
“How could I forget?” she asked, playfully sticking her tongue out. “It’s your Lin day. You guys spend every spare moment together. Can’t we steal you for one Thursday night?”
You rolled your eyes at the term “Lin day,” but it wasn’t exactly inaccurate. After the two of you crashed and then had your class together, you got dinner and then had a movie night. There was no denying that you spent most of your time with Lin, but he was your friend and your roommate. That was normal.
“I’m afraid Lin and I take tradition very seriously,” you retorted.
“Fine, abandon your friends for your husband. We see how it is. Anyway, I have to get to class. See you later,” Tess said before flying off around the corner.
Tess and Lanie had both taken to calling Lin your husband, and your only hope was that they never slipped up and said it in front of him. That was exactly the kind of awkwardness you were looking to avoid.
The rest of your morning was long and tedious, and you were really looking forward to your nap before your last class of the day.
“My morning sucked and I’m exhausted,” you complained as you unlocked your door, knowing Lin always beat you home.
You were already kicking off your shoes when you realized he wasn’t alone. There was a girl on his bed, and she had one manicured hand resting on his knee and the other flipping her hair over her shoulder. You didn’t know why, but it set your teeth on edge.
“This is Zoe,” Lin explained. “We got partnered for a project in class today, so we’ve been working on some plans.”
“Awesome,” you said dryly. You knew you were being rude but you couldn’t seem to fix your tone. “I have to go talk to Lanie.”
You didn’t wait for a reply, and winced when you heard yourself slam the door. You were halfway down the hall when you heard Lin call your name.
“Looks like someone gets cranky without a nap,” he joked. His eyebrow was arched attractively and the bemused expression on his face only made your irritation worse.
“Or maybe someone is annoyed that someone else brought a stranger to our room when we’re supposed to be keeping our living arrangement quiet.”
“Our R.A. can’t even remember our names. Do you really think he would care?”
“All it takes is for one comment to be made to the wrong person. Keep our room private. That was the arrangement we made, remember?”
You really didn’t think anyone would care about you rooming with Lin, but you were proud of yourself for coming up with a halfway rational excuse for the sick feeling in your stomach.
Lin shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, looking apologetic.
“You’re right, I shouldn’t have brought her to our room without asking,” he conceded. “But she was supposed to be in and out. I didn’t think she’d be there long enough to even see who my roommate was. You know I’d never skip our nap on purpose. I’d been trying to drop hints that she should leave for the last half hour, but she wasn’t getting them.”
“Oh, she got them, she was just ignoring them. Come on, the hand on your knee? The hair toss? She’s into you,” you replied, feeling a little smug that he wanted her gone. The fact that he said “our nap” wasn’t hurting matters, either.
“Is that what girls do when they’re into you?” he asked, his expression somewhere between teasing and genuinely curious.
“It’s what obvious girls do.”
“So not you, then?”
“Never me.”
He paused for a beat, something passing between you that you couldn’t quite decipher.
“We still on for movie night, Ms. Never You?” he questioned. His tone was light but the lightness sounded almost forced.
“Yes, but I get to pick. I don’t know how many more times I can sit through Clue.”
“Stop pretending you don’t love it.”
“Go deal with Zoe. I’m going to Tess and Lanie’s to nap for a bit. This morning really did suck.”
“Alright,” he said, opening his arms for a hug. “You can tell me about it on our way to class tonight.”
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders for a moment, and wished you could fall asleep right there.
“Sounds good. I’ll see you in a bit.”
You saw Lin watching you from the hallway when you closed the door to Tess and Lanie’s room behind you, and you let yourself admit that it had felt kind of good that he chased after you.
“I can’t believe I let this happen,” you said to yourself later that night as Lin grabbed his laptop to start playing Clue. “I’m starting to suspect that you don’t even like this movie that much, you just enjoy making me sit through it.”
Lin handed you your container from the Chinese food place and dropped down next to you on the bean bag chair.
“You’re a regular conspiracy theorist. This happens to be the greatest movie of our time,” he said, glancing down at his phone as it buzzed. “It’s Tess. There’s a party Saturday and she said you and I are going.”
“Not only do I not get a choice, but I don’t even get my own text?”
“I guess she knows we come as a package deal, so what’s the point?”
A small smile fought its way to your face. “Do you actually want to go? Because I can tell her we’re busy if you don’t. Last time was kind of a nightmare.”
Lin passed you his phone so you could read Tess’s text in full.
“Party Saturday. You guys are coming. Lanie and I will be sober so you two can drink and make bad decisions. No arguments.”
A second text came through while his phone was still in your hand.
“Costumes are mandatory. We’re doing a 50s theme, so get on that.”
You groaned and showed Lin the follow up message. “It’s not even Halloween yet.”
“What? You don’t want to be the Sandy to my Danny?” he asked with a grin.
“I guess I’m going to have to be, stud,” you joked in your best Olivia Newton John voice. “But I’m going as pre-makeover Sandy. If I have to dress up, I’m at least getting a circle skirt out of the deal.”
“You sure I can’t talk you into the spandex?” he asked teasingly, biting his lip in a way you called him on daily. You hoped he believed you thought it was annoying instead of hot, which was closer to the truth.
“Knock it off and watch the movie,” you said, tugging his lip from between his teeth, making him laugh and wrap an arm around you.
“Saturday will be fun. I’m looking forward to it.”
You might have been looking forward to the party, too. Maybe. A little bit.
Friday was a long day of party prep with Tess and Lanie, but by the time Saturday evening rolled around, you had thrown together a cute costume that you were pretty pleased with. Lanie was helping you finish up your makeup when Lin knocked on the door and strolled in. You briefly glanced in his direction as he walked in and then did a double take.
When you agreed to go the Grease route with Lin, you somehow neglected to consider what he would be wearing. That was a mistake on your part because you hadn’t prepared yourself for what Lin would look like in a leather jacket.
Good was how he looked. His short hair was slicked into the closest approximation of a 1950s biker style that he could manage, and he pulled off a white t-shirt and jeans better than he had any right to. You realized you were staring when Lanie lightly tapped your face and shot you a knowing look as she applied your lipstick.
“So, are you kids ready to get irresponsible while Lanie and I play mother hen?” asked Tess.
“If memory serves, the last time you promised to keep it together at a party, Lin and I had to physically carry you home after threatening frat boys with the promise of cops.”
“And this is our way of making that up to you,” Lanie responded, tossing her makeup bag back onto her desk. “You look hot. Doesn’t she look hot, Lin?”
“Don’t answer that,” you interjected quickly. It didn’t escape your notice that his ears were red, and it made you smile to yourself. He could quell most of his nervous habits, but his ears were his tell.
You stood next to Lin as you all got ready to head out, and he rolled his eyes at you and slapped your hand away when you tugged on his ear.
“Come on, hot stuff,” he said and led you out of the room.
The weight of Lin’s arm around your waist was one of your only coherent memories the next day.
You awoke late Sunday morning feeling like you had been hit by a truck. The light pouring in from the windows was burning your eyes and you felt like your mouth was full of cotton. You groggily looked around the room and saw that you were alone. Lin’s leather jacket from the night before was tossed on the floor so you knew he had come home, but he was nowhere to be seen now.
Tess slipped in through the doorway just as you were slowly pulling yourself out of bed.
“Morning, sunshine,” she chirped, not caring to modulate her voice in light of your obvious hangover.
You mustered up a smile as Lanie joined you and asked if either of them had seen Lin. You started to grow nervous when you noticed them exchange a glance.
“How much of last night do you remember?” Lanie inquired. Her tone was level and gave nothing away.
“After leaving our building? Honestly, not much. Lin and I danced. I had a few drinks. And then I guess I had a few more drinks, because everything after that gets blurry.”
“I’ll bet,” Tess laughed.
“Stop it, you’re not being helpful,” scolded Lanie. “You did get pretty drunk, though. We stopped you from doing anything too crazy, but you ended up making out with a guy in a Superman costume.”
“He had a cape,” added Tess, as though that would be comforting.
“I didn’t want to make out with a guy in a cape,” you groaned, flopping back down on your bed.
“No, you probably would have preferred a leather jacket,” quipped Tess. You noticed Lanie didn’t try to quiet her that time.
“…yeah, I probably would have,” you admitted.
“Holy shit.”
“I knew it.”
Lanie and Tess flew into conversation, and between your headache and their speed, you could barely tell their voices apart.
“You are going to tell him, right?”
You hadn’t even realized the question was directed at you until Tess slapped your arm.
“Tell Lin? Tell him what, that I wish I had made out with him last night instead of some guy in a cape? Uh, no.”
“I think he’d be pretty psyched if you said that, but I was thinking more along the lines of admitting you have feelings for him.”
“It’s not nice to make fun of me when I already feel crappy,” you complained.
“Nobody is making fun of you,” said Lanie earnestly. “Lin got kind of weird at the party last night after you took off with Superman. He bailed early, but he waited up until we brought you home. It’s pretty clear that he cares about you a lot. And you do have feelings for him, don’t you?”
You paused for a moment before answering. “He’s my best friend. I just feel like we click in a way I’ve never clicked with anyone before. We’re together all the time and I never get tired of being with him.”
“And it doesn’t hurt that he’s gorgeous,” quipped Lanie, making you laugh.
“No, that doesn’t hurt,” you admitted. “There are just a million things that could go wrong. I have no idea if he actually has any feelings for me, and even if he does, it could end in disaster. I’ll consider it, though.”
“That’s all we ask,” promised Tess. “Come on, get out of bed. Come with us to the dining hall. You at least need to get some coffee in you.”
You quickly tossed on some clothes and washed your face, the idea of coffee appealing to you greatly. Your head finally started to clear once you were out in the fresh air, and by the time the three of you were crossing the quad, you felt almost human again.
“There’s your boy,” said Tess, pointing in the direction of some tables.
“And Zoe,” you said flatly. “That’s the girl who was in our room the other day.”
She and Lin were sharing a table, each with a drink in front of them. They could have been working on whatever their project was, but there were no books in sight. It looked like a date.
“It’s probably nothing,” Lanie reassured you. “They have that class together. And who goes out on a Sunday afternoon? Definitely nothing.”
“It doesn’t matter,” you shrugged. “He’s free to date whoever he wants. At least I didn’t do anything stupid yet, right?”
The girls both gave you half-hearted shrugs and nods. You knew this wasn’t the last you’d hear of this conversation, but you were glad that they had no plans to push it while you were in public.
You grabbed a coffee but decided to go for a walk instead of sitting down to eat, your stomach starting to churn again. You were halfway back to your dorm when your phone rang, a number you didn’t recognize flashing on your screen.
“Hello?”
“Hi!” boomed an unfamiliar male voice. “Is now a good time?”
“I’m sorry, I think you might have the wrong number.”
“No, this is definitely the right number,” he explained. “We, uh, met last night? At the costume party?”
“Oh! Cape guy,” you exclaimed. “Sorry. Last night is a little fuzzy for me.”
“I usually go by Luke, but cape guy works,” he chuckled.
“Sorry, that was rude of me. I just…don’t really remember meeting you. Which I realize is also rude of me.”
“Nah, not rude. Maybe a little disappointing, but not rude. But, hey, would you be interested in re-meeting me sometime? Maybe for dinner?”
“You asking me on a date, cape guy?” you joked.
“I guess I am.”
Lin’s face suddenly forced its way into your mind. You could feel what it was like to have his arms around you, and you wanted to tell Luke you were going to have to pass. It only took a second to remember Zoe, and to remember every hesitation you had about telling Lin how you felt in the first place.
“Okay. Dinner would be good.”
You hung up the phone after arranging a time and place, your stomach still churning. When you told yourself it was just from the drinking last night, you almost believed it.
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tvip11-fics · 7 years
Text
.spartacus love theme
A/N: AU. Warnings: Pregnancy, Smoking, Language
x
The sky is a radiant orange and the sun touches the tops of each skyscraper as it bids it goodbyes for the day.
Goku was never particularly good at those, thinks Bardock to himself in their small kitchen. But then again, he wasn't too good at those himself.
Maybe he gets that from him.
He certainly got Gine's eyes and her lean frame, but that hair…
Bardock runs his hands through his hair and lets out a huff.  Yeah, he got that hair from him.
Bardock looks out the window, out toward the street where everything was loud and bright and too much for him. He never liked this apartment; it was nothing like the house he and Gine bought when they first got married. Sure, it had only one room and Raditz' crib was right in his face, but still, it was homey. Gine made it homey with her stupid obsession with pillows and the quilts she had brought from her mother's house.
He should take a quilt to her. He should do lots of things for her. Say I love you a thousand times, kiss her a thousand times, make her smile just one more time....
His hand twitches. He should smoke.
He goes out onto the balcony and pulls a pack of Marlboros from his sweats. He takes a few tries to light it (he hasn't done this in a long time; he shouldn't be doing this, because what would Gine say?)
It's a bit chilly out on the balcony; a thin layer of frost covers the railing, but Bardock doesn't mind. He takes a long drag from his cigarette.
Bardock hears noise from down below and he looks down to the sidewalk. He watches as Goku passes his scarf to the girl that he'd been dating for years now.
Red stains her cheeks as she tries to push the scarf away but Goku doesn't let that happen. He then wraps the scarf around her neck for her and Bardock watches as her whole body turns bright red to match her cheeks.
Bardock blows out a ring of smoke and smiles to himself. To be young and in love…
xi
Goku was thirteen and he was seventeen. He remembers because how could he forget- that smell is still in his nose, it still burns his lungs. (And he had to walk out because she looked so weak and fragile and the smell and the smell and the smell-)
Raditz opens his apartment door, peeling off his jacket and slipping out of his shoes. He throwing his bag on the ground, hoping that it crushes his stupid Agriculture textbook so he'll never have to read about plant propagation ever again.
(Note to Goku: Don't pick a major while you're drunk.)
Raditz swings open his fridge, eyes scanning the empty shelves before remembering that he has no food.
He sighs and throws back on his jacket and shoes.
iv
Gine looked stunning in her wedding dress. Made of cheap lace and paid for with money they managed to scrape together, Gine and Bardock got married in a small church with only a few friends around. For the reception, they ate a store-bought cake and got drunk to a song that he can't remember.
Goku's tiny hand brushed against the film of the polaroid. He was ten at the time and had taken an interest in looking at old photos to see "what Dad looked like before he got fat."
Gine had guffawed at that.
The gym that Bardock opened finally hit its five-year anniversary. It was the first good thing that had happened in a while and would be the only good thing for the next few years to come.
Bardock snatched the photo out of Goku's hand and placed it back in the box of photos. Goku pouted. "Dad, I was looking at that."
"Well now you're not." He pushed Goku toward the bathroom. "Come on, kid, go wash up."
Goku latched onto the frame of the door and held on tight. "No," he whined as his nails stripped away the varnish of the frame.
Bardock frowned. "Come on, brat. Mom spent a lot of time on dinner and-."
Glass shattered in the kitchen and Bardock scooped up Goku as if he didn't weigh a ton. Raditz had made it into the kitchen before them, stepping on the glass to catch his fainting mother.
At that moment, Bardock had yelled at him for being stupid, but at night he still thinks about how lucky they'd been that Raditz had been quick enough, that he didn't hesitate.
That night the house looked like a murder scene with the blood from Raditz's feet staining the carpet and linoleum floors. The glass didn't get cleaned up until Gine awoke and her boys were sure she was fine.
"I'm alright, I'm alright," she whispered, rubbing Raditz' and Goku's backs as they squeezed her tight. "Everything's fine."
v
"Everything's falling apart," she'd cried almost two years later. They were alone in their new apartment, half of the boxes barely unpacked. Goku and Raditz had gone down the street to a Chinese place to grab some dinner so they could all eat.
Gine's arm shook as she leaned against the counter, hands covering her face and cupping her tears. "Nothing’s working anymore. They said they've done everything they can but-."
She swallowed the lump in her throat. "We moved out here for nothing."
Bardock placed a rough hand on her back. "Don't say that."
She turned around quickly, anger possessing her to move faster than she had in the past few months. "It's true!" she yelled, her hands flying in the air and revealing her puffy eyes and gaunt face. The skin around her eyes were yellowish-brown and her lips were dry and for the first time ever she'd looked sick to him. "It's true. We sold the house, your gym, Raditz' car, for nothing!"'
"This isn't nothing."
She stared at him angrily. "Then what is it?"
"It's...it's something," he fumbled. He was never good with words and he still isn't to this day. "Didn't you always use to say that something was better than nothing?"
i
Bardock frowned at her. "What?" asked Gine. "It's true!"
Their house was absolute shit. The bedroom was small, the kitchen was small, the bathroom was small. It was like someone made the house for ants or something.
Gine latched onto his arm. "Imagine it, honey. We can put a couch right there and I can get Mom's old table and put it right in that corner."
"I fucking hate it."
"Oh come on," she said, playfully swatting his arm. "We're doing pretty good for a couple of broke newlyweds. Once I get that promotion at the Auto Shop we'll be rolling in money and we can start saving up for a bigger, better house."
Gine let go of his arm and twirled around the living room. She'd lost her lilthe figure from her teenage days due to working at the Auto Shop, but she still managed to look graceful in Bardock's eyes.
"Let's make this work for now, okay?"
xii
Goku and Bardock no longer eat at the table. It feels wrong without her there to nag about their serving sizes and go on about her college classes.
Now, they sit on the couch while watch whatever's on TV and make small talk with each other. Without Raditz, dinner's a bit quieter. Not that Bardock minds…
"Dad?" asks Goku with his mouth full of leftover lo mein. "Can...Can I ask you something?"
Bardock stuffs his mouth full of potstickers. "You just did."
"Something else?"
"Go ahead."
"You know Chi-Chi, right?" Bardock nods.
"Can I bring her to the hospital? To meet Mom?"
Bardock swallows and then pauses. He blinks a few times before his brain can actually catch up with what his son said. "To meet Mom?"
Bardock turns his head slightly, brow raised so high he swears it's gonna fly off. "What?"
"I-I mean, I can just tell her no-."
Bardock raises a hand. "No, don't do that. Your mother would be pissed."
"So...bring her?"
"Yeah, bring Chi-Chi."
vi
"Who is that?" questioned Gine as she stared out the balcony glass door. This was the first time she'd been home in almost a month. She was looking a bit better and moving around a bit more, which made Bardock feel better about the whole thing. On top of that she was talking about going back to school since she wasn’t working anymore, which everyone thought was a great idea.
"Hm? Oh, her." Bardock pointed his thumb in the direction of the tiny Chinese girl standing next to Goku. He gave her small box with a necklace that he'd begged Bardock to buy a week ago, before running into the apartment complex, leaving the confused and blushing girl in the middle of the side walk. "That's Chi-Chi."
Gine's nose wrinkled. "Chi-Chi?"
"Yeah, but don't worry, I think it's just a crush."
vii
The nurse closed the curtains and left them alone. Bardock had pulled a chair up to the side of the hospital bed and grabbed her hand. He gave it a squeeze and she squeezed back weakly, the sound of her strangled breathing hurting his ears.
His whole body shook when he first heard that she'd passed out on campus, that she was being rushed to the hospital. It felt like he couldn't drive fast enough.
He'd cried on the way here, but he'd never tell her that.
"Don't tell the boys," she whispered. "They have more important things to worry about."
"Like Chi-Chi," he quipped.
She gave him a weak smile. "Yeah. Like Chi-Chi."
viii
The first time, when they first arrived, the boys didn't know what to do. They'd never been in a hospital before and everything smelled too clean and everything was too white.
When she first saw the boys, a flurry of emotions went through her. Anger at Bardock for bringing them; relief that they weren't starving to death (which meant Bardock had actually read a cookbook); happiness at the fact that she was seeing her babies again; sadness at the fact that they had to see her like this.
They should've never seen her like this.
Goku and Raditz held each other’s hands as if they were children again. Raditz looked the most stunned; his brown eyes wide and wet as he stared at his mother's haggard form. Goku just twisted his mouth together as if all his words were poison.
Bardock pulled up a chair and pat the hard cushion. "Come on, boys, sit here."
Goku moved forward, but Raditz stayed glued in place. Goku tugged at his older brother, but Raditz didn't budge.
"Come on, son," Bardock grabbed his shoulder, "Don't make this any harder."
Raditz' eyes finally left Gine and he looked up at his father.He started shaking his head. "I-I....M-Mom-" His voice began to crack.
His arm flew up to his face and he ran out.  Bardock called out after him. "Raditz! Raditz!"
He turned to Goku. "Stay here," he said before running out into the hall to find their son.
Goku stood in the middle of the room and played with his zipper, deciding that it was better to focus on that than his dying mother.
"Goku, sweetie."
Goku stopped zipping. Gine pointed to the chair. "Come sit next to Mommy."
Goku sat down in the chair and wrapped his hand around his mother's. "I miss you. A lot."
"Baby, I miss you too."
xiii
"You're bringing Chi-Chi?" asks his other brother who'd arrived to the apartment an hour later looking for food. "Why?"
Goku finishes drying the plate that was in his hand. "Cause Mom's never meet her officially."
"But why now?" asks Raditz with his mouth full of grilled cheese.
"Because we have to."
iii
Gine slapped Bardock on the back. "Your turn," she grumbled in her sleep.
Bardock growled and put his head under his pillow to cover his ears from Raditz' loud crying. "You do it. He likes you better anyway."
"No."
Bardock sighed and got out of bed, picking up the chubby baby from his crib. "Come on, son," said Bardock, "stop crying."
Raditz ignored his father's plea. Bardock rocked him back and forth, but it did nothing to stop his crying.
"Is he hungry?" asked Gine after a few minutes passed without him stopping.
"He shouldn't be," said Bardock. "It hasn't been three hours."
Gine sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Lemme hold 'im. Go make some milk."
Bardock passed his over to his wife and Raditz immediately stopped crying. Gine looked up at her husband in awe. "Told you he liked you better," said Bardock.
ix
Bardock found Bardock in an empty room, arms wrapped around himself as he cried his heart out.
He'd always been a Momma's boy.
Bardock approached him slowly, brown boots making a loud sound against the white tiles. "Son-."
"Why?" he asked through pitiful hiccups. "Why? Why didn't you tell us it was this bad? That she was going to die?"
Bardock shook his head. "Your Mom isn't dying."
Raditz looked up at him, his anger boiling over. "You look at her and try telling anybody else that she's not dying!" he hissed.
"I can't!" yelled Bardock. "I can't! But damn it, I have to tell you boys something and I don't want to tell you that!"
His chest heaved up and down as looked over his son. "You think I like lying to you two? You think I like pretending everything is alright when I know damn well it's not? Your Mom didn't even want me to bring you two here, but I did."
Raditz looked at him with surprise but kept his mouth shut.
Bardock's hand twitched and ire washed over him. He was done for the day. "I need a smoke."
ii
Gine hit him with a rolled-up newspaper. "Shit babe, I almost dropped my lighter," said Bardock as he rubbed the back of his head.
Gine pointed at her stomach. "Don't."
"Sorry, sorry, I'll take it outside."
Gine knocked the cigarette out of Baradock's hand. "Don't do it at all," she hissed.
"What? I've been smoking since I was like twelve!"
"And now I want you to stop." Gine turned to the side so her bump was more obvious. "We've got a baby on the way. We need to make some changes."
Bardock rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll stop smoking. But let me finish this last pack."
"No."
xiv
Chi-Chi wrings her hands together, her face grey with fear. Goku nudged her. “Relax,” he whispers in the tiny elevator. Goku wraps his arm around her waist and Chi-Chi blushes as Raditz glances at the two of them.
The elevator dings and they all get off. Bardock leads the way to Gine’s room and Chi-Chi death grips the bouquet of flowers she brought for his mother. This is bad, this is bad, this is bad-.
They enter the room one by one with Chi-Chi going in last.
“Hey sweetheart,” says Bardock as he bends over to give her a kiss. “We brought a guest today.”
“A guest? Is it the owner of Capsule Corp. waiting to give me a million dollars?” asked Gine playfully.
Bardock smirked. “Better.”
She’d never seen Gine in person before. Goku has showed her pictures of her from the time when she wasn’t sick, but other than that she had no reference point to go off of.
So she’s a bit surprised when she finally sees her; her black hair that was just as wild as Raditz’ , her brown eyes just as luminous as Goku’s. She’s a bit thin, but that was to be expected, along with her paleness and the bags under her eyes.
Chi-Chi wonders if any of Gine’s genes will transfer over. Will he have hair as wild as hers or eyes a bright as hers? Or will he get her-.
“Mom,” says Goku, interrupting her thoughts. “This is Chi-Chi, my girlfriend.”
Chi-Chi steps forward and gulps. “H-Hi, Mrs. Son! It’s so nice to finally meet you. Goku’s told me so much about you.” Chi-Chi looks down at the flowers in her hands.  “I brought you some flowers to brighten up your room.”
Chi-Chi hands them over and Gine gives her a loving smile. “Thank you so much. They’re beautiful.”
“So tell me about yourself, Chi-Chi,” says Gine.
“Well, I, of course, go to school with Goku. I enjoy cooking a lot and I help out at my Dad’s restaurant.” She looks down at her feet instinctively. “I-I wanted to go to culinary school but-.”
“What’s stopping you?” asks Gine.
Chi-Chi’s face grows warm. “I-I…” She was stuck in a tough spot. To tell or not to tell; either option could result in something as wonder as curing Mrs. Son’s sickness or something as horrid as killing her on the spot.
Goku decides for her. “Mom, Chi-Chi’s pregnant.”
Bardock and Raditz look at the pair. “What?” Bardock glares at his son. “When the hell where you planning to tell me?”
“Today,” says Goku simply.
Chi-Chi’s whole body turns red. “Mr. and Mrs. Son, W-We didn’t mean to be so irresponsible-.”
“Pregnant?!” interrupts Gine. She rests back on her pillow. “Dear god, I haven’t heard that word since I was twenty-five.”
“You two haven’t even graduated yet! What the hell are you gonna do?” yells Raditz.
“I haven’t gotten there yet?”
Raditz crosses his arms. “Then what have you got?”
“Telling Mom.”
“Oh God,” says Bardock as he drags his hands over his face. “I need a smoke.”
Chi-Chi bows her head a bit, tears staining her cheeks. “Mrs. Son, I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry? There’s no need to be sorry,” explains Gine. “You messed up. Me and Bardock did the same thing. Twice. And now we’ve got two wonderful boys.”
Gine grabs Chi-Chi’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “Maybe you’ll be just as lucky.”
Chi-Chi smiles. “Maybe.”
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paladinsheadcanons · 7 years
Note
I don't know if you've run out of ideas by now but how about more Sha Lin/Kinessa? Fluff or angst, up to you. I just need more ;A;
Me? Run out of ideas? For the OTP? Impossible. I hope you like college AUs, because I sure do! (Also because I’m suffering in school. Send help.)
- Mod Mal’Damba
Midterms were coming around and that meant students from all over campus were hunting down quiet study spots for them to hole up in for hours on end with nothing but a thermal flask full of coffee. That also meant that if you didn’t get there early, someone was going to take your spot.
Kinessa was a little frustrated to see that someone had taken her spot by the window at the library, forcing her to look elsewhere for a place to chuck down her books and notes and pens.
The library was chock full of study groups and loners, heads buried in books, flipping aggressively through pages looking for that one highlight they knew they took down some weeks ago. Unable to find a secluded spot from everyone else, the Literature major fled from the library.
All over the outside students were curled up under trees and on grass patches, hunched over notes and scribbling down flashcards and annotations. She wasn’t one to just sit outside in the open, so she kept on moving.
With no more classes for the day, she decided to just hitch a ride from one of her friends and just head out of campus and study in one of the cafes nearby instead. She was lucky enough to run across Cassie who was just getting in her car.
“Hey- wait up!” She flung the car door open, sliding into the passenger seat next to her friend. “Sorry. You don’t mind if I hitch a ride do you?”
Cassie laughed. “That depends, where’re you headed?”
“Uh, just any cafe. Some jackass took my studying spot in the library.”
“That sucks. Okay, cafe it is. I know the big ones are super crowded right now so we might just go a little bit further from campus if that’s okay? If you have class later I can just drop you off closer.”
“Nah, I’m done for the day. I just need a quiet place to hole up for the rest of the day.”
Cassie pulled the car out of the lot and took it out of campus. Kinessa watched as the car passed a couple making out in front of someone else’s car. “Don’t they have midterms too?” She muttered. Sure, some could deal with a relationship and study at the same time, but that wasn’t her. There wasn’t anyone who really caught her eye on campus anyway. 
Cassie drove past their dorm, heading further out from campus. As much as there was tons of cafes peppered around campus, they were all filled with stressed students looking to get their fill of coffee before holding out for the day, curled up on torn sofas and blocking out the noise of everyone else in the room. Knowing how much Kinessa liked true silence, she took her to a secluded coffee shop closer to the suburbs.
It was a small shop, wedged on a corner block, quiet and rustic. At first glance, there wasn’t anyone inside except the cashier. Kinessa was already in love with it. “Thanks so much. I’ll return the favour… eventually. When I get a car. Or I can just get you food tomorrow or something.”
Cassie laughed. “Don’t worry about it. Good luck with your midterms!” She left Kinessa on the street, staring at the outside for a bit before wandering it.
It was most definitely quiet inside, wide windows letting in warm sunlight and dim, orange lights casting a golden glow on the inside of the wood-and-stone coffee shop. She was greeted by the cashier, a chipper girl who looked about her age, perhaps also a college student working a part time job to pay off the loans. 
After a moment of admiring the chalkboard menu and the glass display of cakes, she ordered a coffee and a slice of pie and looked for a comfortable seat, somewhere where she’d get as much of the natural light filtering in through the window, and near a light so that when it got dark she didn’t have to move around.
Looking around, she didn’t expect to see anybody, but found a very familiar someone from her class curled up in the corner, casually transferring his messy class notes into something more readable.
She liked being on her own, but if she had definitely noticed him. Maybe he could help her study anyway. Right? Right? Study groups never worked out because half her entire class wasn’t serious about it anyway, but it was worth a shot one more time.
“Hey- you don’t mind if I join you right?” Kinessa asked as she approached her classmate.
Sha Lin, in all his messy long hair and flannel, looked up in surprise at her presence. He didn’t realise she had come in, and quickly hid his messy notes under even messier books. “Oh hey! Nawh, it’s cool. Just ignore my notes, they’re horrible.”
She took a seat opposite him, letting herself sink into the comfortable faux leather. “Midterm stress?” She ventured, noticing his frantically taken class notes. Or maybe he was half asleep when he took down those illegible annotations.
“Yeah. You too? I thought you were always in the library.” He put down his pen which was quickly running out of ink to sip on his coffee that was turning cold soon. 
Kinessa arranged her notes neatly on one side of the table and flipped open her main notebook that held all her carefully taken notes in incredibly neat handwriting. “Some jackass took my spot. My fault for not getting there earlier, I got carried away with lunch with Evie and Ying.”
“I thought you didn’t like Evie,” Sha Lin mused, going back to his notes. His notebook was nowhere near as organised as hers, his words going off the lines, handwriting changing rapidly and ink leaving trails that shouldn’t have been there when his hand rubbed on wet ink. Arrows pointed everywhere and stuff was hardly readable. His handwriting was adorable when it was legible.
“She’s okay. Theatre majors are wild though.” He just hummed in response, and they lapsed into silence as they slowly chipped through piles of notes, reading, highlighting, understanding, complaining. She wasn’t even halfway through the stack of class notes when the sun began to make its descent beyond the glass buildings across the street. The pie had long since disappeared, leaving only crumbs on a plate. Sha Lin had gotten through another cup of coffee already. In the warmth, he shrugged off his flannel and sat there in his shirt and jeans.
Kinessa took a break from her notes, staring out of the window for a bit. The street was a little busier now that people began to leave work and go home, the sky painted with shades of pink and gold and casting the same light on people. From the street to the buildings her gaze drifted lazily, observing everything, soaking it all in. She enjoyed his presence, both of them quietly sitting in the light. It wasn’t like working with other study groups where they shifted and moved and complained. Just those few hours of sitting with him, occasionally looking up to watch the way his hands shifted and scribbled on paper was satisfying enough.
“You come here often?” She asked after hours of silence. Sha Lin glanced up, hair in his face. The red bandana he wore hardly kept his fringe away.
“If I got a ride, yeah. Why?”
Cassie had somehow decided to come by and pick her up again to head back to the dorms. She saw the black car pull up outside, Cassie rolling down the window to gesture for her to go. She pulled her gaze away from Cassie to observe Sha Lin again.
“Will you be here tomorrow?” She asked. If he was, then she had just found a new study spot. Sure, the drive would take away a few minutes that could have been used to cram notes, but that was okay. She could just stay up a little later back in the dorm to make up for it.
He shrugged. “Sure. You coming back here tomorrow?” He tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, but silently hope she would. He liked studying with her, even if they didn’t say anything.
Cassie honked her horn, beckoning from outside for Kinessa to get going. She quickly gathered her stuff, chucking everything into her bag. “See you tomorrow tiger.” She smiled, and rushed out of the door.
Cassie rolled her eyes as her friend got into the car. “Guess I’m driving you again tomorrow?” She asked, a smug grin on her face as she knew what Kinessa really wanted to go back for.
Sighing, Kinessa looked back at the cafe as Sha Lin returned to his work, not looking up again. “Yep.”
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recurring-polynya · 3 years
Text
I haven’t posted any fanfic since April and I am dying, so I dug out this first chapter of this amateur hockey AU fic I started back in my annus mirabilis of 2019, which I am never going to finish. Despite taking place in an ice rink, it was supposed to be a fundamentally summery story and it was 90 degrees here today, so that seems about right.
I’ve always been rather fond of it and I hope you like it, too.
ao3 | ff.net
🏒   💘   ⛸️  
The old rink seemed a lot smaller than the first time Rukia had walked through those doors. Smelled the same though, that astringent tang of bleach and wet rubber with just a note of snack bar french fries. Which was strange, because the Ice Society snack bar didn't offer french fries or soggy pizza or any of the usual things served in the snack bars of the hundreds of ice rinks she'd been in over the last ten years. But everything about Ice Society was weird.
For starters, it was called Ice Society. Presumably it was a shitty pun on "High Society," except that the man who owned the rink was a crusty old ex-Marine with one eye who didn't even know what puns were. It was just a mystery.
Rukia half expected Ol' Man Zaraki's asshole son to still be manning the counter of the pro shop, but an orange-haired teen snored at the register instead. She kicked the front of the counter, and he sat up with a start.
“Huh, wha? Won’t get me this time, old man!’
Rukia cleared her throat.
The kid peered down at her from his perch on a high stool. “Uh, you want a sharpening? I am definitely allowed to use the machine without supervision.”
Rukia raised one eyebrow. “Saw an ad. Rink’s looking for a figure skating instructor for the summer?”
“Uh, yeah, I guess,” the teen scratched his head.
“I...would like to apply?”
“You got a resume or something?”
Rukia narrowed her eyes at him, but passed it over.
The kid made a very serious face as he looked it over. “First Place Overall, Tri State Championships 2015, mmm, very impressive. First Place Regionals 2016, ah ha ha, very tough competition that year.”
“You don’t know a ding-dang thing about competition figure skating, do you, junior?”
“Nope!” he replied cheerfully. “I don’t have any hiring authority either.” He craned his neck around to check the big clock hanging behind him. “Mr. Manager’s out playing hockey with the delinquents, but he should be done in about ten minutes. If you want to talk to him, you can wait around, or I can give this to him assuming I don’t fall asleep again or forget.”
Rukia didn’t really register the second part of this sentence because her heart gave a little leap at the mention of delinquents. “Ol’ Man Zaraki still teaches the kids from juvie how to play hockey?” she asked.
The teen regarded her curiously. “Naw, his back gives him trouble. His son does it now.” He narrowed his eyes. “S’how I learned, y’know.”
Rukia wagged her eyebrows at him. “No shit. Me, too. I’ll wait.”
She wasn’t sure that Ikkaku would even remember her—it’d been ten years and he’d been a surly teen at the time, not too interested in the shouting, angry kids he was trying to teach wrist shots to. Rukia hoped maybe he’d mellowed out a bit, and might be a little more inclined to hire someone with a soft spot in their heart for his dad, who, seriously, had to be about 900 years old by now.
“I’m gonna go out and watch,” Rukia informed the shop kid, snagging her resume back.
“Suit yourself.” He suddenly seemed to remember something. “Wait, you play hockey? Look, my team is lookin’ for—“
Rukia waved a hand dismissively. “It’s been years. I don’t even own equipment.”
“We sell equipment! You’d get an employee discount!” he shouted after her as she headed into the rink proper.
Rukia recognized the drill the kids were doing. They would skate up the ice, the coach would set them up with a pass, and they would take a shot on goal. Most of the kids could barely shoot the puck, but to be fair, the tiny person in net couldn’t really stop anything, either. Nevertheless, Rukia could hear a steady stream of barked encouragement from the coach under the high pitched babble of shouts and shrieks from the other players. These kids didn’t get a whole lot of encouragement in their lives, and she remembered very well the feeling of teammates shouting her name for the first time.
“Great job, great job, everybody! Give your keeper a high five, and go get changed! Awesome hustle today, Ururu, way to hang in there!”
Rukia leaned against the curve of the rink, watching the little hooligans high-five their coach as they piled off the ice.
“You didn’t suck too much yourself today, old man!” one of them squeaked.
Rukia snorted. Some things never changed.
The coach was taking a moment to help the goalie—who turned out to be a tiny girl with dark hair in pigtails—loosen the buckles on her leg pads, before shooing her into the locker room.
Rukia stood up and prepared to re-introduce herself, when he pulled off his helmet, and instead of Ikkaku’s shaved head, a mass of dark red hair spilled out. Most of it was covered with a sweat-soaked bandana, but she would recognize that ponytail anywhere. The words dried up in Rukia’s mouth and she stood stupidly gawping like a fish. The man, who stood close to 6’4” in his skates, stopped short when he realized there was a tiny woman in his way.
“Ah, ‘scuse me, almost didn’t see you there.” He seemed confused by her lack of movement, speech, or any other discernibly human reactions. And then recognition dawned. “Rukia? ‘Zat you?”
Something about the sound of his voice brought her back to herself. Rukia crossed her arms over her chest and smirked at him. “Hey, Renji.”
🏒   💘   ⛸️  
“I’ve seen you around, I think,” Rukia mentioned, poking one of the pucks experimentally with her stick while she waited her turn.
“Family court, prob’ly,” Renji suggested. People were always recognizing him. It was the hair. “You in the foster system, too?”
“Uh, yeah,” she admitted.
“Whadja do to get put in juvie?”
“Jacked a car.”
“You stole a car?”
“It was a 1996 Ford Festiva, so maybe ‘car’ is a little generous. How ‘bout you?”
He fidgeted. “Spray painted a dick on the side of the school.”
Rukia laughed. She had the grating laugh of an old grifter, not a little girl’s laugh at all. “Karakura Middle, lime green? Real attention to detail on the ball hairs?”
“That was me.”
“Nice work.”
Renji felt his cheeks color. He’d never actually gotten a compliment on his graffiti before, let alone from a cute girl who had jacked a goddamn car. “Hey, it’s almost my turn here, and I do not know what I am doing, don’t judge me too rough, okay?”
“I would never.”
“Next!”
Renji launched himself down the ice at top speed. He lost his edge after three paces and landed stomach-down on the ice with a shit-ton of momentum. Ikkaku, barking instructions from the blue line, managed to get one hand on the boards and jump high enough to clear the careening child as he skidded by. Renji bounced off the boards a few times and came to a rest deep in the neutral zone.
“Good hustle, Abarai!” Zaraki boomed.
Rukia was laughing her ass off.
🏒   💘   ⛸️ 
“Yeah, Zaraki took me in a couple years after you moved away,” Renji explained as they sat in the bleachers drinking kombucha from the snack bar and watching Ichigo, the teen from the pro shop, drive the zamboni repeatedly into the boards. “After I got kicked out of the third or fourth foster family. I’m sorry Ichigo confused you.”
As if on cue, the zam hit the boards particularly hard, thoroughly rattling the glass. Renji stood up and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “That’s it, you’re done!” he bellowed. “Go find Ganju and tell him to finish up!”
“Aw, maaaaan!” Ichigo groaned.
Renji plopped back down again. “So what are you doing back in Karakura?”
“Oh,” Rukia said, suddenly remembering that this wasn’t some dumb nostalgia trip. “I’m doing a summer student research program over at the Seireitei U downstate campus. I saw the rink was advertising for a part-time figure skating instructor, and I thought it might be nice to make a few bucks in my free time. Liked the idea of seeing the old place again.” She smoothed out her rumpled resume, and handed it to him.
"Oh, cool! Yeah, both our figure skating instructors just graduated college and moved away." Renji skimmed her resume for a moment, his eyes widening. “I always knew you were a good skater, but…”
“The man who adopted me was a former Olympian,” Rukia said stiffly. “He saw a lot of potential in me.”
“Looks like he saw right,” Renji shrugged. “You sure you don’t got better things to do than teach some teens how to stomp around the ice backward with their arms sticking straight out for fifteen bucks an hour?”
Rukia shrugged back. “The internship’s only ‘sposed to be 20 hours a week. Not like I know anyone down here anymore.”
“Well, you know me.” He handed her the resume back. “The job’s yours if you want it.”
She blinked at him. "That's it?"
He shrugged. "You want an interview with the old man? He'll be by in a few hours to shout at the HVAC unit."
"Is it broken?"
"It's too scared of him to break, that's what the shouting's for. Anyway, he'll just ask me if I want to hire you and I'll say yes."
"But how do you know I'm any good?"
He gave her a strange look, like he wasn't sure if she was trying to pull one over on him or not. Finally, he said, "What, you want a tryout or something?"
"I just don't think you should make hiring decisions based on nostalgia for someone you played hockey with as Squirts."
"Hey, we played together well into Peewees," he joked. He checked something quickly on his phone. "Ice is free for the next hour and a half. You got skates with you?"
"They're out in the car."
"Go get 'em. Hey, Ganju!" He waved to the stocky man climbing onto the zamboni. "Pull that back into the garage, would ya? I'm gonna use that ice."
When Rukia returned with her skates, Renji already had his back on. Rukia studiously tried to ignore him, setting up cones on the ice. Just as she finished the last knot, he hockey-stopped at the door, throwing a spray of ice in her general direction. She ignored him and stepped out onto the ice. “What would you like to see, Mr. Ice Rink Manager, sir?”
“Well, you need to get warmed up, right? Let’s see some circles.”
“Circles.”
“Yeah. You’re some sort of hotshot, right? Switch off forward and backward.”
Smirking, Rukia took off around the first face-off circle, letting her legs stretch out with each crossover. She switched direction for the second, taking it backwards . She stayed in reverse, and instead of skating around the perimeter of the center circle, she launched herself into a double Lutz. She finished the last two circles normally, and came to a neat stop in the corner.
There was the loud blast of a whistle, and Renji skated up to her. “You sure don’t listen to directions too good,” he frowned.
“I got bored,” she shrugged. “Is that whistle really necessary?”
“Yes. Okay, next, see those cones?”
“I am not blind.”
“Skate around ‘em. Like this.” He made a serpentine gesture with his hand.
“I dunno, they’re pretty close together,” she said skeptically. In fact, you could probably drive a zamboni between the cones.
“Eh, just do your best,” he suggested.
Rukia took off and launched into an elaborate sequence of steps, dancing around cones, skipping from one foot to the other, flipping from forward to backward and back again.
“Yeah, that was pretty good, come back and do it again.”
Rukia executed the exact series of steps on the way back.
“Not very original, are you?”
She put her hands on her hips.
He pointed to a series of hockey sticks he had laid out on the other side of the ice. “Skate up that side of the ice, and jump over the sticks.”
Rukia had done this drill many times as a child, of course she knew you were supposed to hop over them one at a time. That seemed inefficient. Rukia took a long starting run, and shot him a shit-eating grin before launching herself into the air. She had managed to break his grinning shithead act for just a second-- his eyes widened in horror as he realized what she was doing.
Rukia sailed through the air, clearing five of the six sticks. Shit. She danced frantically, trying not to trip over the last one, and managed to clear it with a tiny little bunny hop. She spread her arms wide, and bowed, like she was particularly proud of that last bit, and then skated up to him, looking phenomenally smug.
The jackass still couldn’t manage to look impressed. “Okay, last test. Are you ready?”
“What is it?”
He shot her a toothy grin. ��Catch me.”
Renji took off, backwards, tweeting his whistle obnoxiously.
Rukia took off after him, taking big, scooping power strokes.
As soon as she started getting close, he flipped forward, putting on a burst of speed. “You used to be able to catch me a lot quicker’n this!”
He was fast, a lot faster than she had expected. But Rukia was faster. Ducking her head down, she put on the jets. As they neared the corner, she cut inside, and passed him, transitioning to backwards, so she was facing him. “Happy?”
With a mischievous look in his eyes, Renji blew on his whistle, and put on another burst of speed, picking her up under the armpits and holding her straight out in front of him, her feet dangling a foot off the ice.
“What are you doing?!” she howled.
“We’re figure skating now, right? That’s how this works?”
In response, she grabbed the whistle hanging around his neck and blew it as hard as she could.
Laughing his ass off, Renji skidded to a stop, and gently deposited Rukia back on her feet before doubling over with laughter, clutching his stomach.
Rukia tried to look angry and impatient, but to be honest, she couldn’t remember the last time she had horsed around on the ice like that. She could almost hear Byakuya’s droning lecture on the importance of protecting her precious ankles, but she pushed it to the back of her head. He wasn’t here, and she was determined to enjoy the break from his clucking.
Renji looked up, wiping tears from his eyes. “Wow, that’s a stoneface. C’mon, don’t tell me that wasn’t at least a little bit fun?”
She crossed her arms across her chest, and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “Maybe a tiny bit.”
“Good. I forgot. If you wanna work here, you gotta like having fun. No fuddy-duddies.”
“I will have you know, I am an expert at having fun!”
He bobbed his head in an exaggerated nod. “I can tell.”
“What kind of test was that, anyway? You just made me run a bunch of hockey drills.”
“You think I know anything about figure skating?” he scoffed. “Look, here’s the real test,” he announced. “Are you available on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, from 6 to 9, and Saturday mornings, 9 to noon?”
“Yes,” Rukia replied.
Renji tipped his head to the side. “Please come work for me, Rukia. You are ridiculously overqualified for this, but the Learn to Skate classes start this week, and if I have to teach them myself, I’ll have to drop my summer course. The pay’s not great, but you get a staff discount at the snack bar and I can give you free ice time between the hours of 2 and 4 am, if you want it. You get a couple teen assistants, real nice kids. I don’t mind if you make them run personal errands for you or whatever. Also, you get to hang out with a bunch of sexy guys, like Ichigo and my pop.”
Rukia snorted through her nose. Had he forgotten that she was the one who came in here, looking for a job? “You sound pretty desperate, maybe I should hold out.”
His shoulders slumped. “Aw, shit. You want me to throw in free skate sharpening, too?”
“‘Zat your Camaro parked out front?” It was a beautiful mid-70’s model, a hood the size of a tennis court, bright red with black racing stripes. Rukia was going to be very disappointed if it turned out to belong to the orange-haired Pro Shop teen.
Renji frowned. “You can’t have my wife. You wouldn’t want her anyway, she only runs a quarter of the time.”
“She’s a looker, though.”
“That is true, I am a man who knows how to wash a car.”
Rukia leaned forward. “I want a ride in her.” It had been a long time since she had ridden in a car where you could feel the rumble of the engine in your bones. Byakuya would shit a brick if he found out she was riding around in something without side-impact airbags.
“Really? That’s it?” Renji asked.
“That’s it.”
“You can drive her if you want.”
Rukia stuck out her hand. “You have a figure skating instructor.”
Renji grabbed it and shook it firmly. “Welcome aboard. You, uh, you wanna go driving right now?”
Rukia’s cheeks colored. “Oh. I gotta… I’m ‘sposed to meet up with my new roommate and I gotta unpack and stuff.”
“No problem,” Renji drawled. “We got all summer, right?”
“Yeah,” Rukia agreed with a grin. “We got all summer.”
🏒   💘   ⛸️  
In case you’re wondering how the rest of this was supposed to go, Ichigo tricks Rukia into joining his awful hockey team, which is made up of a bunch of teens (Keigo, Mizuiro, Tatsuki and Chad), Renji, Ganju and some drunks (Yoruichi and Kuukaku). Rukia makes her assistant figure skating instructors, Orihime and Uryuu join, too, and I think at some point they recruit Toushirou. Rukia and Renji have a fling and keep insisting it is “just for the summer.” There is a romantic skate-sharpening sequence. They make out in the back of Zaraki’s rusty old pick-up truck which Renji had to borrow because the Camaro broke down. At some point, Byakuya shows up and he and Zaraki get in a fight, which they decide to take down and resolve in a hockey shootout with poor Renji in goal, except that Byakuya doesn’t know how to shoot and Zaraki’s back is just really bad and eventually they get tired. Just be glad I moved on to other things.
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purplesurveys · 7 years
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190
Who was the first person you spoke to today? My mom, I think. Who was the last? Gabie, although it was through text. Have you told anyone you loved them today? Yep numerous times. Are you wearing shoes at the moment? No shoes allowed around the house, dude. When did you last shower? ...Last night...it’s now 7:32 PM. Oops. I swear I can barely get any showering done every time I’m on a break.
What song is stuck in your head right now? Idle Worship by Paramore. I’m certain I’ll be on a Pmore high the entire time waiting for them to come here in February. Does it snow where you live? Nope. I’ve never experienced snow. Do you live within an hour of the ocean? Hah not at all. You’ll have to travel for hours. Do you ever do things even though you know you'll regret it later? Yes hahaha and it’s almost always about treating myself to expensive food I know I don’t deserve. Biggest mistake of your life? Not learning how to play the piano. What are you currently sitting/laying on? I’m sitting on one of the chairs at the dining table. Who is your oldest friend? Oldest in terms of age is probably Ate Jarica, she’s 22. If you mean my friend for the longest time, Angela. How long have you known them? Oh, I guess you meant the latter. Twelve years. Where are they right now? Idk, either out or at her house. I don’t know how she usually spends her Sunday evenings. Have you ever dated a friend of one of your siblings? No thanks. It would be awkward, and I’m not into dating someone younger than I am. How old is your oldest living grandparent? I’ll be honest with you, I have no idea how old each of my dad’s parents are. I think it’s about time I go ask him :(( I know my grandma (mom’s side) is 71, but I don’t know if that makes her the oldest. What were you doing at 11am this morning? I was at my grandmother’s and catching up with my eldest cousin. What do you plan to be doing two hours from now? Still absorbed in surveys, hopefully.  Where were you living in 1993? Buddy, my parents had only just met that year. I wouldn’t be around till five years later. Were you even born? Answered that. Do you remember who you were dating in July 2006? I was in second grade. I only cared about High School Musical in those days. Are you still dating that person? Who was the last non-relative of the same sex you had a conversation with? Gabie. Last non-relative of the opposite sex? Kuya Kenrick, from my org-to-be. It wasn’t really a conversation, though. He was the one who presided over my formal interview for the org so the atmosphere had that of a job interview more than a light discussion. Has anyone kissed you today? No, we don’t see each other during the weekends. What is the best gift someone can give you? Time. :) Do you tend to fall for people who don't return your feelings? I’ve only felt this way for one person so I don’t have enough experience to give you an established answer. Why did your last relationship end? She was married to her jobs and I was left to the side, but we kept it going for months until it got too unhealthy. Who ended it? She did. Via email. Can you believe? Where do you go to school, if anywhere? I go to the University of the Philippines, Diliman campus. Do you have a job? No. Where? How long have you worked there? Where did you get the shirt you're wearing? I have no clue, it must be a hand-me-down. I never know where my home clothes come from. Who were the last 3 people to leave you a comment/wall post? Pretty sure they were Macy, Ate Luisa, and Kuya Toby. Are you left-handed? I am not.   Do you wear contacts? No, they freak me out too much. Have you ever been a clown for Halloween? I haven’t. Where are the last three places you went? Church, my grandparents’ house, and even before that, I guess Gab’s place last Friday. Do you remember what the price of gas was the last time you saw it? I don’t take note of it. Do you prefer Pepsi or Coke? Neither. Is your hair longer than your shoulders? Not anymore, yaaaaay. Do you tend to go for guys/girls with certain eye/hair colors? No. Filipinos are homogeneous when it comes to appearance so we don’t get to be picky. What time did you go to bed last night? 10 or 11, not so sure. When did you get up this morning? 6:45? If I remember correctly. When was the last time it rained? It rained really hard Friday. Weird how it never came back though. Are your finger nails painted at the moment? They never are. Have you ever made yourself throw up? Sure. Why? Because I felt disgusted. Do you ever go hunting/fishing? Also never.
When was the last time you went camping? I haven’t gone camping before :c Are you currently wearing anything orange? I am not. I never do except for the rare times I wear the lone orange top I own. Do you know anyone who is a nurse? Possibly, but I’m be sure. There are lots of nurses in the Philippines though so I wouldn’t be surprised if anyone I knew turned out to be a nurse. Would you prefer to own a lapdog or a bigger dog? Big dogs. Are you more of a cat person? No. Are you currently wearing any jewelry? Yeah, I have a necklace that I never take off. Was any of it given to you? If so, by whom? My girlfriend. What is your worst subject? Social sciences, chemistry, calculus, geometry. What was the worst thing to happen to you today? I went to church. What are you looking forward to tomorrow? I don’t have school tomorrow and I am so fucking stoked to do absolutely nothing. When did you last see the last person you kissed? Friday. Are you dating this person? I am. Do you know anyone who plays guitar? I know tons of people who do. Do you play guitar? No. Did anyone tell you that you looked nice today? No. I didn’t make an effort today so it’s understandable lol. How many missed calls have you had today? Zero. Who were the last three people to call you? All of my recent calls are from Gab. The only other person to call me is my mom but even that seldom happens.
Who were the last three people you called? I’m comfortable enough to be on the line with just my girlfriend, period. Have you had to have stitches at all in the last year? NOPE. No stitches for me no surgeries no needles no nothing nope. Did you graduate high school within the last 3 years? I did. :( If not, will you graduate within the next 3 years? :( :( :(  How old will you be on your next birthday? I’ll be 20! Feeling excited. Or is that wrong? Which is coming next: Christmas or your birthday? Christmas. How many people live in the same household as you? Five, including myself. Have you ever visited another country? Yeah, I’ve visited six others. If so, how long were you there? Singapore for 3 days, Malaysia for 2. Indonesia for 5 days. China for around 3 days in total, Japan for 1 day, South Korea for 1 day. Do you have any money on yourself at the moment? Yes. Do you sleep in the nude? Only when I’m spending the night with Gab but like otherwise it would make me feel uncomfortable. Do you ever walk around the house naked if no one is home? Now that I never do. What is your favorite way to spend a rainy morning? SLEEPING INNNNNN. What is your favorite way to spend a cool autumn night? I don’t know what an autumn night would feel like since we don’t get that season, whoops. Where was the last place you slept other than your house? Gabie. I had planned to drive home that night but their family introduced me to wine and I ended up downing two bottles. LOL Have you ever stayed up all night and then gone to work in the morning? Ugh yes. My last assignent for one of my journalism classes, I had to stay literally up all night for it and had to go straight to that class by morning. That was the day of my birthday too.  Is there anyone you wish you could see right now? Meh, I’m fine. Do you have any big plans for the weekend? None other than to rest and do nothing. That’s big for me in the sense that I never get to have a completely relaxed weekend these days... How many relationships have you been in so far this year? One. Do you prefer to be single or with someone? At this point, with someone. I’ve been so used to it now. Do you have any tattoos? No. Are you planning on getting any? Not anymore, I think. Would you pierce your nipples for $100? No. Did you lose your virginity before you were sixteen? I didn’t. Have you ever dated someone who had a child? I haven’t and I don’t think I would if it ever came to that. What are the middle names of everyone in your family? Middle name = maiden name in Filipino naming customs, and I’m not giving that out. Are you taller than 5'6"? Not a chance. Where did you go the last time you took a vacation? Vigan. If you could live in a TV show, which one would you be in? Same old answer, San Junipero. Not a show but whatever. Would you ever consider adoption? Yes, but it’s not a priority. How do you feel about your life right now? I think depression is a huge pain in the ass.
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36point36-blog · 7 years
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Here's My Story. It's Long, and I Swear a Lot.
Prior to my current job, I worked for my family business - a small grocery store - more or less steadily for fourteen years, from the age of 16 to the age of 30.  The store was located five or so miles from the state capitol, in the heart of a college town, flanked on one side by a sprawling campus and on the other by a large, twisting expanse of highways.  Those highways connected us to a vast network of far-flung, sleepy little towns and hamlets that most of us had never seen.  Our customer base was therefore very diverse - foreign students, frat boys, truckers, church ladies, families, foodies, and everyone in between were amongst our regulars.  There were literally dozens of customers that I saw every single day, five days a week, for over a decade.  I naturally became close with many of them, as did much of the staff - who were themselves all very close with one another.  We were not always friends, but we nonetheless came to know each other uncommonly well.  We knew each other’s families, boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives, pets, personal habits, quirks, strengths, and weaknesses.  Many of us became co-workers as teenagers and continued seeing each other every day well into twenties whether we wanted to or not, which meant that we saw each other’s physical appearances change incrementally over time, in every imaginable direction.  Our hair was cut, dyed, grown out, cut, and dyed again.  A few of the “boys” that were hired as teenagers started going bald in their twenties.  Some of our clothes changed subtly with the fashions of the day, became aggressively collegiate during football season, got frumpier during pregnancy, got sloppier during hangovers or bouts of depression.  Waistlines expanded and contracted and expanded again for all sorts of reasons.  All of these aesthetic changes just sort of took on a natural ebb and flow amongst the core of employees who’d been there the longest.  When you see someone every day for ten years, they eventually transcend whatever they happen to wear or weigh at any given time.  Whether they’re fat, thin, bald, pregnant, sixteen, or twenty-six, they are simply themselves at that point.  Whatever state they’re in becomes, at that point, a natural one - simply because you’ve seen them in so many states.
But in 2014, my family business closed.  It was squeezed out rather controversially by developers and replaced by a national chain store.  The aforementioned core of still-young veteran employees was heartbreakingly disbanded.  We had become adults together elbow to elbow.  We knew each other’s favorite movies and bands and donut flavors.  We had survived terrible fights, made out drunkenly in dark bedrooms at parties, cried together, laughed together, exchanged birthday presents, braided each other’s hair, covered each other’s shifts.  And then it was all over, and with grim faces and leaden hearts we begrudgingly became other people’s co-workers, other people’s checkout girls, other people’s customer service representatives.
Which brings me back to the heart of this essay or whatever it is - the paradox of former obesity.  When the store closed and I had to get another job, I was 220 pounds.  I did not actually KNOW that because I had, for my entire adult life, asked the staff at my doctor’s office not to tell me the actual number whenever they weighed me.  I would step backwards onto the scale and shut my eyes, and they kept it a secret as per my request.  But I was nonetheless 220 pounds.  When I started at my current job, roughly two dozen strangers became my co-workers and met me for the first time as a 220-pound woman.  That was in September of 2014.
A little over a year later, in October of 2015, I was on top of a ladder at work, missed a step, and accidentally head-butted the side of the light fixture.  Now, I am just about the most panic-stricken, white-knuckled hypochondriac and/or pessimist you could possibly imagine.  Every minor ailment spells imminent doom to me.  If I have a slight cough for more than two days, I become increasingly certain that I’m a modern-day “Satine,” dying from consumption in my own non-musical but equally tragic version of “Moulin Rouge.”  In my warped, worst-case-scenario mind, a UTI becomes a long-dormant strain of neurosyphilis, for which I am the Patient Zero.  A skin rash all but whispers aloud to me, “Get your affairs in order - you’re not long for this world.”  So I hit my head at work, and I naturally freaked the fuck out.  That “Concussion” movie had either just come out or was about to come out, and I also happened to have a friend who was undergoing brain surgery at the time, so general head injuries were already on my mind to an unusual extent at the time.  The next day, I had a crippling headache - maybe from hitting my head, maybe from freaking out for 24 straight hours about hitting my head.  Either way, I was encouraged by my manager to fill out worker’s comp paperwork and go to the nearest urgent care, an unfamiliar setting that only exacerbated my cold-sweated, shaky-handed anxiety.  When they finally called me back and said they had to weigh me, I was in such a frenzied state of mind that I forgot my own iron clad rules.  Without thinking, I stepped onto the scale the NORMAL way - with both eyes wide the fuck open, looking directly into what might as well have been the fucking eye of Sauron - the scale’s small, menacing LED screen.  This would eventually reveal itself to be one of those ultra-rare, movie-like moments where life as you know it - your regular-ass, everyday life - is literally and profoundly changed forever.  At the age of 30, after a lifetime of being either obese or significantly overweight, I learned for the first time that I weighed over 200 pounds.
There are no words to really describe the effect that this revelation had on me.  It was like…oh, I don’t know…being struck by lightning and beaten with a cattle prod while learning that my new husband had just been murdered.  During the nine month period leading up to this cataclysmic event, I’d actually been LOSING weight in preparation for my September wedding.  I’d had several appointments with my regular doctor, who only told me how much I LOST - not how much I WEIGHED.  She was increasingly encouraged by the small but steady progress I was making, and amazingly, despite my natural pessimism, so was I.  In fact, I was pretty damn confident on my wedding day.  I genuinely thought I looked better than I had in years - quite possibly my whole adult life, even.  I had, after all, lost nine whole pounds since getting engaged the previous December.  I didn’t see a fat bride in the mirror.  I actually saw a somewhat transformed person.  Nine pounds!  Nine of ‘em!  That damn near constituted a full-blown makeover, as far as I was concerned.
What I didn’t know at the time was that I was nine pounds less than a staggering 220 - my highest weight on record, which was added to my medical file in December of 2014, right after I got engaged.  The urgent care scale read “211,” a number that from that moment onward was permanently tattooed into my brain tissue.  Calling it a “wake-up call” would be a hilarious understatement.  When I left the urgent care clinic, my heart was pounding out of my chest.  I started sobbing the instant I got into my car.  I briefly stopped crying long enough to pull up a BMI calculator on my phone, then immediately started crying again once I’d crunched my own numbers.  Even nine pounds lighter than before, I was clinically obese.  Not even on the cusp between “overweight” and “obese.”  There was a little line graph on the BMI calculator website with green on the “normal” side that shaded into yellow once it reached the “overweight” range, then into orange for “extremely overweight,” then finally into the deep oranges and reds of “obesity.”  I was well into the orange-red zone, dangerously close to the patch of blood-red at the tail end of the line.
I went home early from work and cried myself to sleep.  But the next day, in an unprecedented act of self-improving action-taking, I bought myself a pair of drugstore headphones and I walked to work for the first time.  There were approximately 1.5 miles between my front door and the entrance of my workplace, and the first time I walked it in both directions, I felt like I was some sort of 19th century wandering pioneer or ancient nomadic tribeswoman.  That first walk TO work might as well have lasted a full calendar year - that’s how epic and sprawling a distance it was at the time, especially out in the open for all to see.  Now that I knew I fat I was, I was forced to realize that all the joggers and bikers and drivers and passengers that were passing me ALSO knew how fat I was.  This was not only taking place in a fairly small town, but also my lifelong hometown - I had worked, lived, and spent the entirety of my K-12 years within the same five-mile radius.  So, presumably, at least some of the people who saw me walking that fateful day recognized me - knew me - had known for years how fat I was.  The whole way there, the whole way back, I felt like I was jiggling stark naked down the open sidewalk for all the world to see, with a neon sign affixed to my head that read “CLINICALLY OBESE” in flashing, colorful letters.  But somehow, even though it was one of the single most embarrassing and physically uncomfortable experiences of my life, I knew that it had to be done…that it was the only way out of the nightmarish orange-red zone on that BMI chart.  I made minimum wage (still do), and I knew I couldn’t even afford an occasional aerobics class, let alone a gym membership or a personal trainer.  So I just DIY-ed the fuck out of a radically new lifestyle.
I didn’t count calories or ban refined sugars or carbs or anything, but I started eating a fuck ton of frozen vegetables and spicy sauces from the international foods aisle, and I stopped eating Annie’s macaroni and cheese altogether, which I adored and ate very frequently, always with butter, always two boxes at a time.  I copied and pasted all my beloved, rousingly violent 90s rap from my computer into the internal storage on my phone and blared it into my headphones for about an hour and a half total, three or so days a week, on my way to and from work, walking as briskly as I possibly could.  I bought some used Gillian Michaels DVDs and played them on mute with the captions on so I could at least listen to my own invigorating, murderous rap jams while I flung myself to and fro across the room and up and down on to the floor with hand weights, as per Gillian’s instructions.
I kid you not, the results.  Were.  Immediate.  Had they NOT been immediate, I might have just screamed “FUUUUUCK IT” into a bowl of peas and given up.  But I started losing weight RIGHT away, to an extent that even I (who was, mind you, utterly prepared to fail) could plainly see with my own two eyes.  A month in, I was able to squeeze into my favorite coat from six winters before, when I had briefly flirted with the mid 150s, then gotten lost in a long bout of depression, during which I began to drink heavily and rapidly slide into obesity.  Two months in, I could actually zip up my junior prom dress.  Three months in, I started to occasionally get compliments.  By late winter of 2016, during Michigan’s presidential primaries, I was comfortable enough with walking long distances that I canvassed with a genuine spring in my step for the Bernie Sanders campaign.  I continued to lose weight during this period and through the end of the winter, so when Bernie won the primary, it felt as though I had, miraculously, won twice.
Looking back, I’m 100% certain that once my weight loss got to the point where it was visible to even the least attentive observer, the overwhelming majority of my co-workers and casual acquaintances didn’t expect me to continue with it much further.  I had been 220 pounds and was now around 170.  I had to get all new clothes, and I carried myself differently.  I had already defied the odds in terms of the national statistics.  Once customers started commenting on my weight left and right, within earshot of everyone I worked with, it would have been fair to assume I would have just stopped there.  But that couldn’t have been farther from the truth.  If there was one prevailing lesson I had thoroughly learned at that point, it was that cheesiest of all maxims - basically, “what you think is impossible might actually be possible,” or whatever variation on that you prefer.  No one - DO YOU HEAR ME? - NO ONE was less likely than me to succeed.  I’m not saying that to be self-deprecating - I’m simply stating a fact.  I had never liked - or even tolerated - sports or exercise.  I had never enjoyed being outdoors.  I had never possessed an ounce of will power or self-control.  I had always, always, ever since I was a baby, eaten like a lumberjack in a cartoon or a rescued prisoner of war.  I had been overweight my entire childhood and obese as an adult.  I was also over thirty.  The deck was fucking stacked against me in a lot of ways, and goddamn it, I pushed the fuck back.  I kept going.  Eighty pounds later (36.36% total weight lost, hence the title of this blog), I’m still going.  I’m a little deaf from all the rap blaring into my headphones, and my ropy, calloused feet resemble a gnarled old ballerina’s, but my BMI went from 35.5 to 22.6.  I own (and comfortably wear, without Spanx or other control top undergarments) a size 4 Calvin Klein dress.  I walk an average of 13 miles a day.  This past Tuesday, three days ago, I walked twenty.  Alone and happily, quite unexpectedly, without a set goal or destination.
If you think you can’t do it, you’re just wrong.  I may not know you, but I hope to God you give yourself a chance and try.  I can help you if you want.  That’s for real why I made this blog - I am, in so many ways, still as hot a mess of an adult as I ever was, and I’m a very unlikely mentor for anything at all, but in this ONE specific instance, I am living proof that a bunch of weight can be lost without surgery.  Or a class.  Or portion control.  Or a specific diet.  Or a food journal.  Or a gym.  Or fancy equipment.  For real. I did it. I highly recommend it.
What all too many so-called “body positivity” activists and pseudofeminists will tell you is that if you’re obese, you don’t really need to lose weight.  You’re fine the way you are.  The patriarchy or the establishment or the fashion industry or what the fuck ever are just trying to keep you down, and real women have curves, and beauty is within, etcetera, etcetera, and so forth.  Now, it’s true that curves are beautiful.  It’s true that you can be healthy and be a little overweight.  No one should be fat-shamed (or body-shamed at all) by anyone.  Bullying IS wrong.  Beauty IS within.  Cellulite IS normal.  Barbie-like bust-waist-hip ratios ARE unnatural and unrealistic for almost everyone.  I am not the enemy.  This is not a so-called “thinspo” or “proana” blog.  This is an ex-obese blog.  This is about being obese and wanting not to be.  Having been obese for most of my life, I can assure you, flat the fuck out, the alternative is better.  In all candor, it feels better weighing 140 pounds than it does weighing 220 pounds.  My doctor assures me, might I add, that it IS better.  She can hear it in my breathing and my heartbeat.  She can see it in my blood pressure.  So I do not pretend to have all the answers.   I don’t even consider myself to be a particularly accomplished human being overall.  I never finished college, I work in retail, I make minimum wage, and I’m 33 years old.  But one of the crowning achievements thus far of my entire life has been losing eighty pounds of myself, that magical thirty-six-point-thirty-six percent, and I make no apologies for my pride.  If you want to do something like that yourself, feel free to ask me anything you want, or tell me your own story.
So. Thank you for your time…and good luck.
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majesticpossum · 7 years
Text
1000 Question Challenge
Hey rats, I have decided to do the 1000 question challenge because I'm still at home and bored as hell so either read it or ignore idc.Because i did all of these bitches at once and it took me two hours i challenge all of you rats because i fucking hated that lmao. k bye.
1000 Question Survey  The Basics 1.) Your name:  Abigail
2.) Nicknames: Abby, Abs, and Abbers
3.) Do you like these nicknames?: Sure
4.) Location: USA- Indiana
5.) Age:18.
6.) Birthday: June 14th
7.) Zodiac sign: Gemini
8.) Parents names: Iige & Anne
9.) Siblings?: 2 younger brothers
10.) Pets:  I have 3 cats: Rudy, Oliver & Mary Francis, One Fish: Spoopy
11.) Number of rooms in your house: Like 18? Idk 12.) Religion: Catholic
13.) If so-practicing?: Yea Boi
14.) Male or Female?:  Female.
15.) Is your family close?: In a way
What are your favorite 16.) Foods: ITALIAN
17.) TV shows: Parks N Rec, 30 Rock, Arrested Development, New Girl, Grey’s Anatomy, Friends and basically anything else on my Netflix list
18.) Movies: Pulp Fiction, Narnia Movies, High School Musical, Evita, Mamma Mia and a lot 
19.) Actors: Dylan O’Brien 
20.) Actresses: Julie Andrews is my grandma 
21.) Books: I’m a Harry Potter girl. And Shane Dawson’s books are fab
22.) Artists: Little Mix, Halsey,  Drake and Beyonce 
23.) Types of Music: Everything but country lmao
24.) Video Games: MarioKart for days
25.) Computer Games: 2048??
26.) Outfits: I’m not about to post some ootd pics so no
27.) Stores: Vineyard Vines, Kohls, Charlotte Russe, Aerie and Pink lol
28.) Sports: Volleyball
29.) Colors: PINK
30.) Numbers: 10
31.) Websites: Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr, Moodle (lmao)
32.) Cartoons characters: Abbycadabby bitch
33.) TV Channels: Bravo & E!
34.) Made For TV Movies: GRUMP CAT’S CHRISTMAS
35.) Comedians: Zane Hijazi and all those people
36.) Comediennes: CHRISTINE SYDELKO 
37.) Hair products: All Aveda hunty ;)
38.) Makeup Products: I wear Sephore mascara and thats all
39.) Kind of Pens: The kind that let you write?
40.) Kind of Shows: Comedy 
41.) Pieces of Jewelry: Necklaces and Ear Rings
42.) Kinds of Soap: Organic
43.) Kinds of Shampoo: Aveda
44.) Game Systems: Wii I guess
45.) CD s: Anything by Beyonce fam
46.) Snacks: Tostitos 
47.) Past times: NAPS
48.) Things to do on the weekend: Sleep and be with my friends
49.) Magazines: Any celeb magazine is something I’ll read
50.) Animals: CATS
Clothing 51.) Favorite Brand of Clothing?: Vineyard Vines all day every day
52.) Favorite sweatpants: My HS Ones
53.) What is your everyday outfit?: Something last minute thrown together
54.) Do you wear a uniform to school?: I did
55.) Do you like it?: Depends on the day
56.) What is your favorite clothing store?: I already did this
57.) Do you try to dress like other people?:  Ya, 2008 Lady Gaga :]
58.) Do you consider yourself to be trendy?: In the snobby white house wife community? Probably, yea
59.) What kind of shoes do you wear?: Boots and Sperrys 
60.) Do you like funky shoelaces?: No
61.) Do you wear hats?: In the summer sometimes
62.) Do you wear a lot of jewelry?: My cross necklace and ear rings
63.) If so, what?: oh shit wrong line
64.) Do you wear belts?: Ha no
65.) Do you wear skirts?: Not since high school
66.) Do you wear revealing clothing?: Sometimes.. A girl’s gotta live
67.) Do you like the Eskimo look?: no
68.) Do you wear big pimpin coats?: no lol
69.) Do you carry a purse or bag?: purse
70.) If so, what is it like?: It’s a pink coach purse
School 71.) What are your grades like?: I got all A’s & B’s this semester 
72.) Do you wish you could change your performance in school?: I can always do better
73.) Are you failing anything?: no
74.) Do you take a language?: fuck no
75.) If so which language?: N/A
76.) Who is your favorite teacher?: My hipster Theo professor 
77.) Do you decorate your locker?: If by locker you mean dorm then yes
78.) Do you decorate your bookbag?:  Do I? no. Did Aerin? Yes.
79.) If so, with what?: she spilt a fuck ton of paint on it
80.) Do you draw on yourself in school?: no
81.) Do you doodle all over your notebooks?: In calc i did lol
82.) Do you take art?: not anymore
83.) Do you walk to school or are you driven?: I drive to campus but I walk to my classes
84.) Do you like school?: YES
85.) How big is your school?: Decently big
86.) Do a lot of your friends go to your school?: Pretty much
87.) Do you wish you could change schools?: Nope
88.) Are you on the Honor/Merit roll?: in high school i was on the honor roll but now its called the dean’s list
89.) Do you participate in school plays?: yesh
90.) Are you in any clubs/which ones?: Choir, Special Olympics, Yoga, IM Volleyball and something else I’m forgetting
Your Room (I’m gonna do my dorm) 91.) What color is your room?: White bc we can’t paint them
92.) Is it messy or clean?: usually in the middle
93.) What are on your bedsheets?: bright blue
94.) Do you have posters on your wall?: yes
95.) If so, of what?: I have a hamilton poster, and a shit ton of ND stuff lol go Irish
96.) Do you have a TV in your room?: Yes.
97.) A computer?: Yes, a laptop.
98.) A radio?: no
99.) An alarm clock?:Nope, I use a phone
100.) A stereo?: no
101.) What is under your bed?: tubs of extra clothes, food, and whatever else I need in college
102.) Do you have a big closet?: hell no
103.) Do you write on your walls?: Nope.
104.) Do you have any beads hanging up?: Nope.
105.) If so, what design?: ^^^^^
106.) Is your ceiling decorated?: ya
107.) If so, of what?:  these little star shaped stickers that glow in the dark
108.) Do you decorate your door?: yeah
109.) With what?: white board and flyers 
110.) Carpet? No, Wood floor
Music 111.) What are you favorite bands?: Little Mix is my current love
112.) Do you own a lot of CD s?: A good amount
113.) How many exactly?: Hell Idk
114.) Do you download music?: yes.
115.) What are your favorite songs?: PRIVATE SHOW BY LITTLE MIX IS MY JAM 
116.) Do you listen to the radio?: Only when I’m in the car.
117.) Do you like loud music?:  Love it. >:)
118.) Do you think its obnoxious when people drive down the street with their stereos all the way up blasting the kind of music you loathe?: Not really
119.) Do you like rap?: Sure
120.) Do you like country?: ugh no
121.) What TV shows are you glued to?: GREYS
122.) Are you a couch potato?: I invented the term
123.) Do you watch the news?: No but I do check Twitter
124.) Are you easily influenced by the people on TV?: Yes, Kim K i my god
125.) Who is your favorite TV star?: Kim K
126.) Do you watch late night TV?: Nah.
127.) Do you have more than 100 channels on your TV?: Yeh
128.) Do you actually care about any of those above 100?: idk
129.) Do you watch the Spanish channel just for fun?: Nope.
130.) What is your take on commercials?: I want to go into advertisement so I like them
131.) How big is your TV?: 42 inches
132.) Do you use a remote or change it manually?: remote
133.) When you see something on TV do you run out and buy it as soon as possible?: usually no
134.) Do you like dramas?: Yes.
135.) Do you like comedies?: Yes.
136.) Comedy Central-good or bad?: I’ve never really watched it.
137.) Are you obsessive over anyone on TV?: Dylan O’Brien is a hottie
138.) Do you watch any sports on TV/which ones?: Football and any other ND sport lol
139.) Do you watch music videos?:Sometimes.
140.) Do you like watching I Love the 80’s even if you weren’t living in the 80’s?: Never seen it 
Morals/Beliefs 141.) Religion?: Catholic
142.) Do you go to church regularly?:Erm.... sorta?
142.) Pro-life?: YEAH BABY (get it?)
143.) Pro-choice?: No
144.) Are you a virgin?: No
145.) Do you believe in God?:  Ya
146.) Jesus?: Is my main man
147.) Allah?: Nope, not my thing
148.) Buddha?: Nope, not my thing
149.) Do you have crosses hanging in your house?: Hella crosses lol
150.) Do you believe in the true meaning of Christmas ?: Yeah
Friends 151.) Who are your best friends?: Emma, Joel, Katie, Ayari, Joseph, Aerin, Bri, and all my dudes
152.) Do you have a lot of friends?: Yea
153.) Who is your funniest friend?: Either Aerin or Scott
154.) Craziest?: AERIN
155.) Weirdest?: Scott
156.) Prettiest: All of them
157.) Fanciest?: Joey
158.) Sportiest?: Emma or Katie
159.) Girliest?: All my girl friends
160.) Mellowest?: Max or Reilly 
161.) Stupidest?: ;)
162.) Smartest?: They all smart
163.) Thugest?: Idk maybe Greg? But even then he’s like a teddy bear
164.) Do you have a lot of acquaintances?: yeah
165.) Are you friends with any of your teachers?: From college? No. HS, yes
166.) Are you friends with any friends parents?: Yeah!
167.) Are you really outgoing only around your friends?:  I’m outgoing all the time, but more with my friends. 168.) Are you comfortable around your friends?: Very... a little too comfortable 
169.) Are you easily influenced by your friends?: Yes.
170.) Are you part of a clique?:in high school i was, now i’m a floater
171.) Do you make new friends easily?:  I think so.
172.) Do you have a lot of friends online?: no
173.) Where did you meet them?: N/A  
174.) Do you have a lot of LJ friends?: tf is that
175.) Do you sleep over at friends houses a lot?: Houses? no. Dorms? yea.
176.) Do you make yourself at home when you go to other friends houses?: sorta
177.) Do your friends rub off on you a lot?: Yes.
178.) Could you live one day without your friends?: NO
179.) Rate your social life on a scale of 1-10: 8.5
180.) How is this challenge  so far?: This takes forever 
This or That
181.)
Book bag
/Messenger bag
182.) Punk/Emo
183.)
Rock/Rap
184.)
Jay-Z
/Nas
185.) Justin/Clay 
186.) Ruben/Clay 
187.)
Cat
/Dog
188.) PS2/Xbox
189.)
DVD
s/VHS
190.)
Cds
/Tapes
191.) Big screen/small screen
192.)
Movies at home/in the theater
193.)
Popcorn/Candy
194.)
Jacket/Coat
195.) Real fur/
Fake fur
196.) sister/
brother
197.)
Home/House
198.) Espanol/Deutsch
199.)
Art/Computer
200.)
Laptop/Desktop
201.) Pepsi/
Coke
202.)
Orange/Apple
203.)
Phone/Computer
204.)
Email
/Letters
205.) Big/Small
206.)
Pizza/Ravioli
207.)
Baby/Toddler
208.) 16/
21
209.) CSI/
24
210.)
Superman/Spiderman
211.) Kilborn/Conan
212.) Letterman/Leno
213.)
SNL
/MadTV
214.) Flinstones/Jetsons
 216.)
Boxers
/Briefs
217.)
Pants
/Skirts
218.)
Skirts/Skorts
219.)
Fork
/Spoon
220.)
People/InTouch
Are you 221.) Gothic? no 222.) a freak? only in the sheets HAHAHAHAHA I'm sorry 223.) a computer nerd? (Not in the tech-y, gaming way, but just that I’m on the computer a lot) 224.) a science freak? Ha I WISH 225.) a sports fan? CHEER CHEER FOR OLE NOTRE DAME 226.) One of those people that sit in the back of the room during an exam and cough and sniff the whole time? no 227.) a class clown? no 228.) funny? hell yeah 229.) serious? depends 230.) intellectual? i wish 231.) an LOTR nerd? if that means lord of the rings then i am the farthest from it 232.) a failure? :’) 233.) a success? :”) 234.) a loser? Loser Like Me was the best song Glee ever did  235.) popular? Popular is the best song from Wicked 236.) lazy? yep 237.) outgoing? ya 238.) shy? nah 239.) friendly? yea 240.) easily annoyed? yep 241.) tolerant of others views? sure 242.) addicted to crack? damn you got me (no) 243.) addicted to any other drug? no 244.) a partier? sometimes  245.) naturally hyperactive? yes 246.) wild? no 247.) sporty? no 248.) smelly? no 249.) an insomniac? sometimes 250.) a procrastinator? YEAH 251.) a criminal? no 252.) a crackpot? no 253.) a bookworm? sorta 254.) hairy? no 255.) good at playing basketball? HA 256.) in high school? no 257.) in prison? no 258.) from mars? yea 259.) straight? yea 260.) gay? no
Random Questions 261.) Do you like frosted flakes?: no
262.) Are you easily mistaken as being someone of the opposite sex?: no
263.) Do you like nuns?: Yeah
264.) Is this survey getting on your nerves?: Slowly but surely yes
265.) Do you use correct English?: Yeah
266.) Hablar Espanol?: Sí
267.) Spien Deutsch?: tf
268.) Speak English?: yea
269.) Do you know what an aphrodisiac is?:no :((((
270.) Do you know what Draculas first name is?: Bob
271.) Do you like Russian names?: I think the name Silvia is pretty, I was on a volleyball team with a girl named Silva and she was great
272.) Like Vlad?:  Not particularly.
273.) Homer?: ? Not really.
274.) Are you a busy body?: no
275.) Do you like to glue quarters to the floor and see how many people try and pick them up and proceed to fail?: Nope.
276.) Do you like to go mini golfing dressed as old men?: I’ve never done that.
277.) Do you like to roller skate?: yes, but Im bad at it
278.) Who do you wish was president?: B E R N I E 
279.) What do you think of Pres. Bush?: I was too young at the time
280.) Do you play Roller Coaster Tycoon?: Ugh bringing back the memz
281.) Are you insecure?: no
282.) Are you influenced by ancient Greek culture?: Heavily.
283.) Roman culture?: ONLY ECCI ROMANI ;)
284.) What kind of architecture do you like?: the kind that stays up?
285.) What style architecture is your house?: idk rich white suburb?
286.) Do you like to shop in big cities?: YES
287.) Do you like to clean your room?: sure
288.) Do you hate when people sit in the back of the room during an exam and cough and sniffle the whole time to break your concentration?: No but I feel bad for them bc that sucks
289.) Do you think that clocks are dumb?: Nope.
290.) Does anybody really know what time it is?: It’s summer time.
291.) Does anybody really care?: yeah
292.) Who sings that song?: what song fam
293.) Do you like Chicago?: LOVE
294.) Does Nevada have a football team?: The state doesn’t but the college there does and BOY we KILLED them in Football 
295.) What did you get on the last big test you took? 97 on my Theo Exam bc Im a baller
296.) Do you pace in circles when you get nervous?: no
297.) Do you play with dolls?: no
298.) Do you like Star Trek?: I’ve never seen it.
299.) What’s 2+9+9?: 20
300.) Do you like filling out these surveys?: I used to this shit is too much am
Money 301.) Do you have a job?: Not at the moment, I’m a full time college student but I do work over breaks when I am home
302.) What do you do?: I was a waitress
303.) Does your boss like you?: She did when I worked
304.) How much do you get paid?: 10 an hour plus tips
305.) Do you have your own bank account?:Yes.
306.) Do you have a credit card?: Yea
307.) a checkbook?:Nope.
308.) Are you a big spender?:Yes.
309.) Do you go to the mall a lot?: All.The.Time.
310.) In an average week, how much money do you spend?: Maybe like $50.
311.) Do you know how much a peso would be worth in the United States today?:I have no idea.
312.) How about a Franc?: I don’t know.
313.) Do you really care?: Not particularly.
314.) Do you like your job if you have one?: I liked working there, I had a lot of friends
315.) If you don’t have one, do you wish you had one?: No Im in school now
316.) Do you wish you had more money?: doesn’t everyone?
317.) Why?: bc money is fun
318.) Would you rather be filthy rich with no friends or dirt poor with tons of friends and a dog?:  Dirt poor with a dog
319.) Do you have a cool wallet?: It’s Vera Bradley so ig 
320.) What is the largest amount of money you ever had in your possession at one time?: 2,000 in cash (My high school open house)
321.) What are you wearing?: PJ pants with a Bernie 2016 T shirt lmao
322.) What are you listening to?: My brother talk to my mom
323.) Who are you talking to?: No one
324.) What are you doing other than filling out this survey?: Hating myself for doing this challenge but I’m already on 324 so I can’t give up now
325.) How is your hair?: In braids
326.) Do you have anything on your feet?:  socks.
327.) Are you cold or warm?: WARMTH
328.) Do you have any jewelry on?: Ear Rings
329.) Do you have any makeup on?: LOL
330.) Name 4 things laying around your desk: Fish, Pen, IPad, Books
331.) Pick up a book laying near you and type a random sentence from a random page:  no fuck that
332.) Open a cabinet near you and describe what’s in it: that sounds like effort I don’t wanna give
334.) Should you be doing something else now?: No
335.) Why aren’t you doing it?: I don’t have anything to do.
336.) Is your room a mess now?: ehhhh
337.) Is your mom nagging at you to clean it?: no
338.) What are any people around you doing?: Mom is on the couch, brother j chillin and the cats are being cats
339.) Who are you thinking about right now?: my hand hurts from typing this shit
340.) Are you doing anything illegal?: no
Looks 341.) How much time do you spend on your appearance in the morning?: Usually about 30 minutes.
342.) Do you wear makeup regularly?: Mascara yeah
343.) If so, what?: bitch i just said
344.) Are your looks important to you?: MINE? yeah
345.) Do you want to change the way you look?: only that my hair would grow back quicker
346.) What would you change?: i.just.told.you.
347.) How do you usually wear your hair?: curly
348.) Do you dye your hair?:  no
349.) Do you straighten you hair?: Yes.
350.) What color is your hair naturally?: brown
351.) What is your eye color?: brown
352.) Do you wear colored contacts?: No
353.) Do you look like your parents?:Yes.
354.) Is that good or bad?:It’s good.
355.) Do you turn strange colors sometimes?: no, that would be bad
356.) Why?: what
357.) Do you have any piercings?: My ears.
358.) Any tattoos?: Nope.
359.) Ever gotten a makeover?: Yes.
360.) Do you experiment a lot with new looks?:  eh
Travel 361.) Have you ever been out of the country?: No
362.) Out of your state?: yes
363.) Out of your city?: Yes.
364.) Do you go on a vacation every year?: a couple times a year
365.) If so, to where and for how long?:  depends, we go somewhere for spring and fall break then a long summer vacation
366.) Have you ever ridden in a plane?: Yup.
367.) In a boat?:Yup.
368.) Do you visit relatives that live far away from you at all?: my aunt in her house in southern florida
369.) ON average, every week how many miles do you travel?: depends if I'm home then not too far and if i go back to school thats like 130 some miles
370.) do you drive? yes
Cars 371.) Favorite car?: A 2015 titanium flex fuel Ford Focus baby.. or a Tesla that my dad is getting :/
372.) Color for that car?: BLUE
373.) Do you have your license?:yes
374.) Permit?: i did once
375.) Do you like fast cars?: sure
Sleep 376.) How long so you sleep each night on average?: 8 or 9
377.) Is this enough?: sure
378.) Do you dream every night?: no
379.) Describe a weird dream you had: I made out with a teacher I had in High School
380.) Do you sleep in awkward positions?: Sometimes.
381.) do you sleep in school? not in class
382.) If so, do you wake up with different patterns all over your face from whatever you were laying on?: no
383.) What position do you usually wake up in?: on my side
389.) Does your alarm clock wake you up?: sadly 
390.) What kind of alarm clock do you have?: I use my phone.
Going Out 391.) How often do you go to parties?: not every weekend, but i go out enough to not be considered lame
392.) Are you a crazy party hopper?: depends on the parties I’m at
393.) Do you like wild parties with lots of people?: Dorm parties? no. House Party? sure.
394.) Are you a social butterfly?: I think so.
395.) Do you go clubbing?: I have been once
396.) Ever been drunk?: ;) 
397.) Ever get kicked out of a party?: Nope.
398.) For what?: N/A
399.) Do you throw a lot of parties?: No
400.) Do you go to the mall a lot?: Too much
401.) Do you go with a lot of friends?: I have never been to the mall alone
402.) Do you like going to arcades?: sure
403.) Is DDR a cool game?: Idk what that is
404.) What about those racing games?: not my thing
405.) How many parties have you been to in the last 3 months?: maybe 4? If you don’t count laid back christmas parties
406.) How many formal dances have you been to in the last year or so?: I guess 3 if you count Prom and Home Coming in hs then formal in college
407.) Do you dress up when you go out?: yeppers
408.) Do you go to see a lot of movies on the weekend?: not really
409.) Who has the best parties?: Joey Dating and Stuff 410.) Are you involved romantically with anyone right now?: Yes.
412.) Do you wish you were with someone right now?: I wish  I was with my boyfriend, he lives far away 413.) Do you have a secret crush?: no
414.) Who?: N/A
415.) Do they know?: N/A
416.) How many people have you dated in the passed year?: two
417.) Kissed in the past year?: two
418.) Do you know what 143 means?: no
419.) How many people have you said “I love you” to?: one
420.) Did you mean it?: at the time i did
421.) If you didn’t mean in, why did you bother saying it?: no
422.) Do you say I Love You to your friends all the time?: yeah
423.) Where do you go out on dates?: Dances, Dinner, Movie Nights, Lunches, or anything really. 
424.) What’s the most fun date you ever had?: Stephen (my boyfriend) and I went to this really cool shopping area by our schools and it was just a lot of fun
425.) If you break up with someone do you cry your heart out while listening to breakup songs and then in an hour your fine again with a new love-buddy?: Honestly depends
Would Win In a Fight? 426.) Britney or Christina 427.) Justin or JC 428.) Frodo or Sam  429.) B2K or Nsync 430.) Cartman or Bart Simpson 431.) Dracula or Frankenstein 432.) Triumph or Simon Cowell 433.) Conan or Jay 434.) Rosie O Donnell or Boy George 435.) Carmen Electra or Pamela Anderson 436.) Tommy Lee or the guy who’s married to Carmen Electra right now  437.) Bill O'Reilly or Chris Matthews 
Inspiration 438.) Who are your heroes?: This woman I’ve grown up knowing, she is a holocaust survivor.
439.) Why do you look up to them?: she was in the fucking holocaust 
440.) Do you wish you could be just like them?: i do not want to go through the holocaust 
441.) State the most inspiring quote you know: “fuck bitches get money”
442.) Do your parents inspire you?: Totally
443.) Do any of your friends inspire you?: yeah
More Random Questions 444.) Are nutri-grain bars good or bad?: Never had one 445.) Do you eat a lot of donuts? hell yeah
446.) What kind?: ALL
447.) Do you like chocolate?: too much
448.) Has your uncle ever gone to jail for unpaid parking tickets?: no
449.) Do you see dancing giraffes and living gnomes in your sleep?: I’m sick of this bullshit challenge 
450.) Do you like headphones that go in your ears or stay out?: stay out
451.) Do you like mini blinds?: I’m not sure if i know what that means
452.) Have you ever broken your mini blinds with a hanger?:  once again: what?
453.) Have you ever gotten into a violent fit of rage and tried to murder someone?: no
454.) How is this survey so far?: ugh
.455.) Do you like the movie Fantasia ?: it’s just kinda there
What s Your Take On 456.) Life: it is too short
457.) The world: it would be a much better place if Julie Andrews ran it
458.) President Bush: okay when was this even made
459.) Ahhhhnold: pardon?
460.) Gary Coleman running for governor: GARY FROM SPONGEBOB IS COOL
461.) Howard Stern: isn’t he the bald guy from America’s Got Talent and Deal or No Deal?
462.) The war in Iraq: I wish it wasn’t a thing
463.) the economy: fuck AP Macro
464.) jay-z retiring: but Bey is still going strong ;)))
465.) school: I like school
466.) going to college: ITS THE BEST
467.) marriage: is for everyone! love is love!
468.) football: ND or die
469.) baseball: ND or die
470.) people cutting themselves for pleasure: people do that? 471.) Pick your nose? don't do that 472.) Untie your shoe laces every time you take your shoes off? lol 473.) Fart a lot? my brother does lol 474.) Burp a lot? my brother does lolz 475.) Do stupid things in public? me when I'm drunk 476.) Terrorize innocent people on golf courses? why did my mind go to Troy and Gabriella in HSM2 477.) Have random hallucinations? do hugs not drugs 478.) Wear shirts with quotes on them? :/ 479.) Wear patches and/or pins on your clothing? it isn’t 2003 480.) Wear leg warmers? it isn't 1980 481.) Sing in the shower? hell yeah 482.) Play any card game? sure 483.) Sleep with a teddy bear? Patrick Grisley <3 484.) Take your pet for a walk? I have cats and a fish bro 485.) Have a snake? I would 486.) Have webbed feet? I am not a duck 487.) Wear colorful socks? sure 488.) Have a life? I think I have that 489.) Drink coffee? I drink to much 490.) Drink tea? yea!
Internet 491.) What are your screen names?: abbycadabby bitch or majesticpossum 492.) Emails?: guess.
493.) Do you have a website?:no
494.) Do you have a live journal or dead journal?: leave the journals alone
495.) Do you ever get off the computer?: at this point in this challenge I’ll die on the computer
496.) What are your favorite websites?: Vineyeardvines.com 
497.) What are your favorite online stores?: see questions 496
498.) Do you buy a lot of stuff online?: ;))))))))
499.) If so, what?: clothes... a lot of it
500.) What’s the last thing you bought online?: Ear rings 
501.) Do you have a lot of online friends?: no
502.) Have you ever met any of them in person?: no
503.) Who’s the best person to talk to online?: i don’t talk to people
504.) Do you ever catch yourself using computer language outloud?:I say lol too much or smh
505.) Do you use AIM, ICQ, Yahoo, MSN ?: LOL HUNTY its 2017
506.) What’s your desktop background?: Me, Ayari, Katie and Aerin on a couch
507.) What’s your AIM icon?: N/A
508.) How many hours do you spend online in a week on average?: too many
509.) Do you have a webcam or a mic?: in my computer I do
510.) If your computer shut down for a week, would you die?: If i was at school I would
Presents 511.) What’s the best present you’ve ever received?:  The gift of life
512.) What’s the worst present you’ve ever received?: The gift of life 
513.) Do you think it’s better to give than to receive?:  I just thought of that in a sexual way
514.) Do you feel guilty when people get you a great present, but you didn’t get them one?: I always give people presents fam
515.) Do you make up a lie to cover it up?: no
More Favorites 516.) Favorite radio station: 99.5 WZPL or the LA and NY Sirus Pop channels 
517.) Favorite day of the week:  FRIDAY
518.) Favorite fruit: strawberries fuck me up
519.) Favorite vegetable: Spinach.
520.) Favorite lunch meat: :/
521.) Favorite candy bar: All
522.) Favorite nail polish:  Essie.
523.) Favorite chair: my chair at home is hella comfy
524.) Favorite early morning show: I sleep through the mornings 
525.) Favorite morning talk show host:  Ellen?
526.) Favorite writing paper: college ruled no doubt 
527.) Favorite section of the newspaper: the comics
528.) Favorite sibling (if you have any): I like them both
529.) Favorite distant relative: My aunts
530.) Favorite dessert: all
531.) Favorite weather: warm and sunny
532.) Favorite season: Summer.
533.) Favorite shoe brand: SPERRY
534.) Favorite lunch: Anything with mozzarella sticks 
535.) Favorite breakfast: FRENCH TOAST STICKS
536.) Favorite author: John Green 
537.) Favorite place to see concerts: Lucas Oil Stadium or Stephan Center
538.) Favorite band to see live: 1D bitches
539.) Favorite survey you’ve ever gotten: fuck you
More This or That 540.) Nike/Adidas 541.) Alone/With friends 542.) Work/Have off 543.) Pomegranate/Persimmon 544.) Raspberry/Blueberry 545.) Cheech and Chong/Abbot and Costello 546.) Acid/Shrooms  547.) Who/The Who 548.) Older/Newer 549.) Regular pretzel/Pretzel log 550.) Have sex/Make love   Bitch they both fun tf
Have you ever 551.) Used a swear word the wrong way and made it sound completely stupid? probably  552.) Skipped school? ;) 553.) Done drugs? no 554.) Been drunk? ;)) 555.) Been so drunk you couldn’t remember your own name? No, I keep my wits about me 556.) Had to look after someone who was on drugs? no 557.) Gone insane? probably  558.) Been in the hospital over night? yea 559.) Been in a car accident? yea 560.) A bike accident? yea  561.) Broken a bone? no but I'm about to knock on some wood 562.) Sprained a wrist or an ankle? i don't think so? 563.) Been online for more than 8 hours at one shot? probably  564.) Loved somebody so much it made you cry? YES 565.) Watched TV for more than 11 hours straight? oh hell yeah, i probably did that today 566.) More than 12 hours? yeah 567.) How about 5 hours? yeah 568.) Slipped in public and had everyone laugh at you? yes 569.) Passed out from hunger? no 570.) Been to a LAN party? and that is...?
Other Stuff 571.) Do you like going to basketball games?: If its ND then hell yea
572.) How about swim meets?: fuck that
573.) Tennis matches?: never been 
574.) Do you like Family Feud?: well I don’t hate it
575.) The ones with Richard?: is that a dick joke
576.) How about Match Game?: never seen it?
577.) Do you watch Game Show network regularly?: Nope.
578.) Do you believe in dream catchers?: not really but they can't hurt ya know
579.) Do transvestites appeal to you?: I support the cause 
580.) Have you ever been to New York City?: Yes.
581.) Do you wish you could live somewhere else?: Washington DC
582.) Do you dress in different ways to look like other people?: no
583.) Yes or No: Christina Aguilera has talent: yeah
584.) Do you like TiVo?:  I’ve never had it
585.) Do you have a TiVo?: Nope
586.) VCR s or DVD players?: DVD players.
587.) Are you an animal rights activist?: Hell yeah
588.) A vegan?: no
589.) Vegetarian?: no but I was for a year
590.) What do you want to be when you grow up?:  Marketing person
Do you know 591.) Who won the Super Bowl last year?: BRONCOS BABY LETS GO
592.) Two years ago?: I wanna say Seahawks
593.) Who hosted Family Feud after Richard?: Steve Harvey!
594.) The author of “Frankenstein”?: FUCk i knew this last year we did it 
595.) Who the Canadian Prime Minister is?: the really cool guy who supports the LGBT movement. sorry reilly i don't know am
596.) The Queen of England?: Queen Elizabeth
597.) Prime Minister of Britain?: I don’t know since he stepped down
598.) Espanol?: a little
599.) Deutsch?: no 600.) Japanese?: no 601.) Français?: no 602.) Chinese?: no 603.) Portuguese?:no 604.) (If you don’t, do you wish you knew any of these languages?): probably all of them
606.) The capital of the US?:  Washington, DC.
607.) All of the Canadian provinces?: ONTARIO....thats all I know. I have a friend from Toronto 
608.) The two most commonly used languages in the world?: English and maybe Chinese? 
609.) How to fly a kite?: yea 610.) How to surf?:  yeah, but not well 611.) Skateboard?: no 612.) How about rollerblade?: lmao no but my dad did in college 613.) What year the Korean war started?: ....
Emotions 614.) What is the one thing in the world that makes you teary eyed?:Those sad ASPCA commercials
615.) Happy eyed?: CATS
616.) What song always makes you sad?: Moments by one direction 
617.) Happy?: All Night Longer by Sammy Adams
618.) Which person always makes you really happy?: Stephen!
619.) Really depressed?: my ex
620.) Are you a really emotional person?: YeS
621.) Are you a naturally depressed person?: during the winter i am
622.) A naturally happy person?: I think so
623.) How long does it take you to overcome a bad emotion?: Sometimes 10 minutes, sometimes hours, sometimes days. 
624.) What do you do?: cry
625.) What song do you think was written about your life?:  Wonderland by Taylor Swift.
The Last Person To 626.) Who was the last person to hug you?: My dad
627.) Talk to you?: My mom
628.) IM you?: i cant remember 2003
629.) Touch you physically?: does that mean sexually 
630.) Touch you emotionally?: idk
631.) Hurt you?: probably me because I run into everything
632.) Make you feel gooooood?: ;) stepho 
633.) Scold you?: probs my parents 
634.) Praise you?: also my parents 
635.) Say “Hello” to you?: my brother. he literally was singing the Adele song
Weaknesses 636.) Are you secure with yourself?: I have my moments
637.) What do other people think of you?: They think Im bubbly 
638.) What kind of person do you see yourself as?: Awkward but means well
639.) What is your one maaaaajjoooorrrr weakness?: I get attached way to easily
640.) Do you consider yourself to be a strong person?: eh
641.) A weak person?: ehh
642.) Are you stressed out?: pretty much always
643.) If someone insults you, can you just brush it off or move on?:yeah but I get petty as hell
644.) Do you hold grudges against others that insult you?: not really
645.) If you are sitting in class and you say something really dumb or do something really stupid and everyone starts laughing at you, can you brush it off easily?: I probably will blush and then cry
MORE Random Stuff 671.) Name all the Teletubbies in order right now no thinking: Tinky Winky, Po and Lala 
672.) Do you like to blurt out random sayings in a conversation for no reason?: oh hell yeah
673.) Do you talk Simmish?: what
674.) Oday ouyay peaksay igpay atinlay?: bitch what the fuck even..
675.) Isn’t pig latin the best?: fuck off
676.) Do you have a distinct smell?: my perfume
677.) Do you know anyone who has a distinct smell that you wish you could bottle and make a perfume or something?: no
678.) Have you ever read Gone With the Wind?: part or it
679.) Did you ever have a crazy eighth grade teacher?: all of them
680.) Are you in an asylum?: Nope.
681.) College?: yeah
682.) What is your favorite scent?: Flowery 
683.) Do you eat chocolate?: ALWAYS
684.) Where is your favorite restaurant?: anywhere with mozzarella sticks 
685.) What is the best feeling in the world?: orgasm LMAO
686.) What is the worst feeling in the world?: not orgasming LMAO
687.) Do like Spongebob?:Yes!
688.) Do you think he s gay?: spongebob?
689.) How about Squidward? A little off track?: he’s a tad gay
690.) Do you like to make up stupid excuses in school like “I was too busy getting raped by a bull to do my homework”?: i’m honestly triggered by this questions wtf
691.) Do you do your homework every night?: yesssssss
692.) Do you usually get a lot?: yea
693.) “OOOOOO poor baby”: okay literally fuck off
694.) Have you ever been French kissed by a dog?: ;))))))
695.) Have you ever fed a dog or cat out of your mouth?: surprisingly no
696.) Ever eaten a doggie biscuit?: ... I dont wanna talk about it
697.) Don’t you wish they would make them for humans too?: no
698.) Where is your second home?: my dorm lmao
699.) Are dollar stores cool?: hell yeah
700.) How many phone numbers do you have memorized that you don’t need to look up?: maybe like 3
701.) Do you wish your teeth would get whiter?: sure
702.) Can you do the limbo?: smh
703.) Do you make New Year’s Resolutions?: HA no
Which Friend 704.) Has the best taste in music?: Katie because it is exactly like mine 
705.) Has the coolest name?: Ayari 
706.) Has the best taste in movies?: Not Michael lmao
707.) Has the nicest hair?: Joseph has got some quality hair
708.) Has the fittest body?: me bitch
709.) Do you hang out with most?: All of them 
710.) Has the coolest parents?: idk
711.) Lives closest to you?: they all live either in Northern Indiana or out of state 
712.) Lives the farthest from you?: Joseph, in LA
713.) Can you relate to most?: Katie
714.) Is the best for advice on anything?:Greg
715.) Can you make you laugh the easiest?: Aerin or Joseph
Word Association! 716.) blow: job 717.) lollipop: i want one 718.) obnoxious: me 719.) cold: water 720.) hot: mess 721.) smell: Goof 722.) car: wash? 723.) rain: freezing  724.) wet: ;) I'm sorry i need to chill but its been a month since I've seen my boyfriend so SUE me 725.) steamy: see questions 724 726.) bite: hickeys 727.) beer: i need one 728.) rock: HARD ROCK 729.) hard: ROCK HARD ROCK 730.) soft: pillows
OK Here’s the dirty part oh shit whaddup 731.) Have you ever played a game that required the removal of clothing?: sex?
732.) What’s your favorite place to be kissed?: anywhere within reason
733.) Are you a tease?: LOL thats the one thing I’ve got going for me
734.) Spit or swallow:  Swallow don't be a prude 
More “Do you” 735.) Twirl your hair? yes 736.) Hate yourself? no 737.) Want to kill yourself? no 738.) Dream of death and blood and gore? no 739.) Go into frequent fits of depression and/or rage? no 740.) Touch your face a lot? yes 741.) Watch MTV? sometimes  742.) Have any lesbian/gay/bi friends? yes 743.) Consider yourself tolerant of other people’s differences? yes 744.) Wish you could fly? eh 745.) Wish you could be invisible? eh 746.) Read minds? yes 747.) Watch wrestling? fuck no 748.) Like filling out love surveys? fuck this 749.) Work out? yes 750.) Play any sports?yes
More Have You Ever 751.) Gotten a DUI? no 752.) A speeding ticket? thank god no 753.) Been in a fist fight? no 754.) Participated in a backyard wrestling match? no 755.) Considered a life as a criminal? no 756.) Held a gun? yes 757.) Considered prostituting yourself for money? college is hard 758.) Been used? no 759.) Been rejected? yeah 760.) Experimented with homosexuality? no 761.) Threw up on a roller coaster? no 762.) Laughed so hard you peed your pants? yes 763.) Slept more than 13 hours straight? hell yeah 764.) Tackled the mailman? no  765.) Laugh so hard you cried? no 766.) Been on the phone for more than 5 hours straight? no 767.) Done crack? no 768.) Done cocaine? no  769.) Passed out during school? yes 770.) Had unprotected sex? no
More Random Questions!!!!!!!!!! 771.) Do you know what boricua/moricua/morena mean?: bitch WHAT
772.) What language is spoke in Brazil?:  Portuguese.
773.) Can you name all 32 football teams in the NFL?: yes but I'm not gonna do that now
774.) How about every baseball team in MLB?:  fuck No.
775.) Do you like hot dogs?: Yes.
776.) Are baseball games fun?: sure
777.) Is 7 a lucky number?:  Sure.
778.) Do you believe in Ouiji boards?: idk
779.) Have you ever played a guitar?: yeah
780.) Do you have dreams about becoming famous?:  yes
781.) Do you like U2?: YES
782.) Has anyone ever asked you about U2 and you responded “I LOVE U2!” and the other person got really confused?: no
783.) Do you own a CD by the Beatles?: yes 
784.) Do you straighten your hair?:  Yes.
785.) Do you wear sweat pants?: i live in them
786.) Do you wear black lipstick?: lmao
787.) What kind of headphones do you have?:  The Apple earbuds that came with my iPhone.
788.) Do you use your portable CD player a lot?: not since 2008
789.) How often do you need to buy a new CD player?: not since 2007
790.) What is the CD in your CD player right now?:  I don’t think anything.
791.) How often do you change your underwear?: every day if not twice 
792.) Are you addicted to popping pimples?: no
793.) Do you ever slip and accidentally say “pimping popples” instead of “popping pimples”?: bitch what
794.) Do you have a walk in closet?: yes
795.) Did you ever get stuck in a closet while listening to “Harder to breathe” or whatever by Maroon 5?: no
796.) Do you pray daily?: not always 
797.) If you die right now what will happen to you?:  Well that would suck
798.) Are you paranoid?: yes
799.) Do you go to thrift stores to shop?: no
800.) Have you ever seen a used pair of underwear for sale?:  no but lets not do that people 
Which One Are You? 801.) Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle: the rat thing thats on the show
802.) Power Ranger: The pink one.
803.) Rugrat: angelica 
804.) Powerpuff Girl: Bubbles.
805.) Villain: Darth Vader bitches
Do You Own 806.) A cell phone? yes 807.) A CPR certification card? no 808.) A Member s Only jacket? no 809.) A book over 900 pages long? yes 810.) A porno? no 811.) A gun? my family does  812.) A pair of toe socks? no 813.) A portable DVD player? no  814.) A Michael Bolton CD? no 815.) A car? yes  816.) A trucker hat? no 817.) A pair of cut-off shorts? yes  818.) A wife beater? lmao probably  819.) A butcher knife? yes 820.) A pocket knife? no  821.) A Rolex? my dad does 822.) A bike? no  823.) A thong? yes  824.) A bikini? no  825.) A speedo (guys)? i am woman 826.) Anything from Tijuana? no 827.) A drum set? no  828.) An electric guitar? 829.) A signed photo of anyone famous? yes 830.) Any of the “Rocky” movies? no
More Random Questions 831.) Do you have fleas?: No
832.) Quote Aladdin in any way: “Too Close” in the beginning when the camera is in the salesmen’s face 
833.) Did you ever play backyard baseball in real life?:  yea
834.) How big is your backyard?:  not big at all
835.) Do you like hairy backs?:  bitch no
836.) Hairy chests?: i personally believe too much is gross but none at all is gross too
837.) Are you attracted to older men/women?: I have never dated someone younger than me
838.) Do you wish you had more hair?:  i wish it was longer
839.) What does Prilosec treat?: is that a word
841.) Are you on any medication?: allegories 
842.) Do you have asthma?: used to
843.) Do you have an inhaler?:  i did
844.) Do you use your inhaler more than 5 times a week?: No
845.) Do you think you need to take medication for this disorder?: what disorder
846.) When was the last time you got a haircut?: last week
847.) What is your hair length?: my boobs
848.) Do you know how to change a tire?: no
849.) Do you know how to change oil in a car?: no but i know how to check it a car needs oil thanks to Stephen and Bri’s shit car
850.) Did a ring ever turn your finger purple/blue/green?: no
851.) Have you ever taken a bus ride to another state?: no
852.) Have you ever taken a bus to the mall?:no
853.) Do you like the show Recess?: thats a blast from the past
854.) What’s your take on the show Judge Judy?: Literal Queen
855.) When did WW2 start?: 1941
856.) When did it end?: 1945
857.) What is your nationality?: American
858.) Where did your family come from?: Germany and England 
859.) Have you ever been to Hell?:  by hell do you mean Florida in the summer?
860.) Do you believe there is a Satan?:  yea
861.) Do you believe in angels?: yes!
862.) Do people always tell you that you look stoned?: people say i act stoned 
863.) What percentage of the time are you actually NOT stoned?: 100%.
864.) Do you like to say random words during conversations like “naked” to get people s reactions?: no
865.) Do you own any NKOTB merchandise?: what that mean
866.) Have you ever gotten the urge to bang any member from Menudo?: idk what that is
867.) Aren’t those Menudo kids soooooooooooooo sexy?: I  don’t even know who they are.
868.) Do you constantly use away messages even if you are gone for 3 days at one shot?:  Nope.
869.) Do you collect anything?:Those pins you get at disney world 
870.) Have you ever made a bong from an exhaust pipe?: no
871.) Do you have pothead neighbors?: no
872.) Which is your favorite toe?: my pinky toe 
873.) Favorite finger?:  middle ;))))
874.) How many wisdom teeth do you have?: 3
875.) Do you have a Kidz Bop CD?: I don’t hate myself 
876.) Do you like to watch the Kidz Bop commercials just because they’re so sad and stupid?: no
877.) Have you ever made out with someone of the same sex?: no
878.) If you answered yes to 877, WHY????????!!!: N/A
879.) Do you grind a lot?: at parties.. drunk.. with my boyfriend 
880.) Do you like to grate cheese?: grates are scary
881.) Can you sing the Oscar Meyer jingle?: YES
882.) Are you related to someone famous through only 3 degrees of seperation?: what
883.) How about 5 degrees of seperation?: bitch
884.) OK be honest how’s the survey so far?: never ending.
885.) Do you usually like to answer all the questions on surveys?: no
886.) What time is it?: 10:09
887.) Do you use the word uber a lot?: kinda
888.) Do you pretend like you know other languages when you really don’t?: no
889.) Can you take a crap in other people’s houses without feeling awkward?: NO
890.) Have you ever overflowed a toilet in public?:no
891.) What did you do?:  N/A
892.) Have you ever heard an old lady say “Fire truck”?: what
893.) Do you swear like a sailor?:  yep lmao
894.) Do you think it’s sassy when people of the opposite sex swear every once in a while when they usually don’t?:  no
895.) Can you sit on the toilet and take a poo?:  can you not do that..?
896.) What term do you like to use for poo the most:  crap
897.) What does PMS stand for?:  Premenstrual syndrome 
898.) Do you like to inhale potpourri?:  I mean it smells good ig
899.) Can you say the alphabet backwards without stopping?: nope
900.) How far can you count on your fingers?:  10.
901.) Are outhouses or porta potties ok for you?: fuck no
902.) What is the funniest portapotty company name you have ever seen?: idk
903.) How many people are on your AIM buddy list?: buddy get out of 2005 
904.) Do you like the Godfather movies?: I’ve only seen one
905.) How about Good Fellas?:  Never seen it.
906.) Watch the Sopranos?:  Nope.
907.) Does the mobster life appeal to you?:mobster......Lobster
908.) Do you know anyone in the mob?: 10000% sure my old boss is
909.) Have you ever woken up to find a horse head laying in your bed?: lmao
910.) If you could rename your town to be anything you want, what would you name it?: DirtyBurg
911.) Osama Bin Laden: dead or alive?: I’m triggered this is question 911
912.) Do you wear a lot of bright colors?: no
913.) Do you watch day time soaps?:  no but i feel like i should
914.) Do you watch Cartoon Network?:  Nope.
915.) Do you use a calculator?: yea
916.) What kind is it?: TI-85???
917.) Do you like pizza to be delivered to you?: hell yeah
918.) Did you ever have to do a science project?:  Yup.
919.) Don’t they suck?: yeah.
920.) Did you ever have to help a family member with a science project?: sadly
921.) Do you help out at the Special Olympics?: I do actually 
922.) Do you know anyone with mental disabilities?:  Yes.
923.) Are you a racist?: no
924.) When you go to restaurants do you eat a lot or try and minimize you intake? food is good
925.) Do you diet?: HA
926.) Do you have trouble sticking to promises?: not really
Hygiene 927.) How often do you shower?: every day
928.) Do you wash your hands after you go to the bathroom?:  Yes.
929.) How often do you wash your face?: every night and morning
930.) When you bleed do you use a band aid?: Yes.
931.) Do you wash your cuts out with soap and water?: no
932.) Do you wash your hair every day?: yeah
933.) Do you blow your nose a lot?: no
934.) Do you cough a lot?: not unless I'm sick
935.) If so, do you cover your mouth or let the germs fly?:  I usually cough into my arm.
936.) Do you wear deodorant regularly?:  Yes.
Issues 937.) Do you have any type of mental disability?: I have an anxiety disorder
938.) Do you have OCD?: no
939.) Do you have ADHD?:  Nope.
940.) Are you on any medication for any mental disorder?:no
941.) Do you suffer from anxiety or depression?: anxiety 
942.) Do you get sick really often and for long periods of time?: no
943.) Have you ever had the chicken pox?: Nope.
944.) The monkey pox?:  Nope.
945.) The mumps?:  Nope.
946.) The measles?: Nope.
947.) Did you ever have a hole in your heart?: thats an episode of Grey’s Anatomy 
The Last Set of Random Questions 948.) Have you ever been on TV?: Yup.
949.) Have you ever been on the radio?: Yup.
950.) In the newspaper?: Yup.
951.) Have you ever been quoted by anyone at all?: Yup.
952.) Do you watch Saved By The Bell?: I used to.
953.) Did you cry when Mr. Rogers died?: I didn’t know until later
954.) Did you ever see the movie Who Framed Roger Rabbit?: yea
955.) Do you think Frank Zilinski is a moron?: what
956.) Throw me some Polish names: no
957.) What size shoe do you have?: 8
958.) How many pairs of shoes do you have?: I would say like 20
959.) How big is your wardrobe?: Decently large.
960.) How much do you weigh?: 105 pounds.
961.) How tall are you?: 5'9".
962.) Do you have cankles?: Nope.
963.) Do you have fat wrists?: Nope.
964.) Fat thighs?: Nope.
965.) Do you shave your toes?: no
966.) Do you shave your legs?: Yeah.
967.) How often?: All the time
968.) How about those armpits?: Yes.
969.) Are you a germaphobe?: Kind of.
970.) How many legs does an octopus have?: 8.
971.) How many legs do you have?: 2.
972.) Do you have braces?: Nope, but i used to
973.) Are you getting sick of these questions?: YES
974.) Do you snort when you laugh?: Not really.
975.) Do you snore?: no
976.) Do you have your own room?: Yes.
977.) Do you have an overactive bladder?: Nope.
978.) How about an overactive pooper?: Nope.
979.) Have you ever had an out of body experience?: what
980.) Do you know who Tim Burton is and/or do you like him?: yes and eh
981.) How about Tim Curry?: eh
982.) Are you ticklish?: yes but not as bad as my boyfriend lmao
983.) Do you have a gay uncle?: try aunt 
984.) A lesbian aunt?: lmao yes
985.) Do you like salad?: Yes.
986.) Have you ever been to a Farmers Market?: Yes.
987.) Ever been to a pig auction?: No thank god
988.) Are you artsy?: sorta?
989.) Do you like to eat pie?: Yeah.
990.) Do you like to say “no pun intended” for no reason?: no i don't hate myself 
991.) What’s your favorite pie flavor?: sugar cream bitches
992.) Do you like ice cream cake?: I LOVE IT.
993.) Is the glass half empty or half full?: fuck this
994.) Who was the Lone Ranger’s, nephew’s, horse?: bitch
995.) Do you like cheese?: yes bc thats whats in mozzarella sticks
996.) Do you know Eric Shaun?: Np
997.) Do you think that last question was really lame?: bitchhhhh
998.) Did you think this whole survey was really lame?:
yes
999.) Was it a waste of your time?: YES
1000.) Do you waste a lot of time doing stupid pointless things when you should be doing more important things: I hate that this is the last question
thank god thats over
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