#Dick: *doing mental math because when the fuck did all this cheating happen he has no recollection of it and was so out of the loop-*

[wroughtbetwixtfanfic]

A Memory Of The Smell of Smoke, Ch 5.

Fandom: The Society.

Summary: Everyone liked to pretend that Campbell had been born bad. That their fear and hatred were logical, rational, justified, because Campbell was a monster incapable of making the choice between good and evil. Because he couldn’t feel the way they did. Well, fuck that. He was gonna prove them wrong. At least, that had been the plan.

Rating: Mature.

Tags: Canon Divergence, Pre-Canon, Emotional Baggage, Mental Health Issues, Child Abuse, Substance Abuse, Animal Death, Complicated Relationships, Pre-Slash, Denial of Feelings, Antisocial Personality Disorder, Implied Rape, Campbell has mild ASPD and is self aware enough to try and be better, the non-con is NOT Campbell, didn’t add an official warning because it is the aftermath only, yes it is the party becca mentioned and there will be a warning in the notes of that chapter, Campbell/Harry, Campbell/Elle.

Word Count: 4601 (chapter 5/5).

Ch 1 || Ch 2 || Ch 3 || Ch 4 || AO3

Then again, they do say that things get worse before they get better.

For  whatever reason, Becca stopped talking to Campbell. He tried to text her to see if she was alright, but his number was blocked. He tried to talk to her, but she kept on walking. It would have been all too easy to  get pissed off over it, but he shrugged and carried on with life. Perhaps she was embarrassed, or ashamed. Perhaps she wanted to pretend it never happened. Maybe it had been a really bad high. Who knew? But she wanted nothing to do with him, either way, and he didn't waste his time on people that obviously wanted him gone. Caring cost too much energy for that.

The end of the school year play was an adaptation of the film Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead.  Cassandra, of course, decided to try out. It was more surprising that Harry tried out, too. Naturally, they both got the lead roles. And why wouldn't they? Cassandra had always been an amazing actress, and now that Harry had cleaned up his image to make himself the cute goody-two-shoes co-captain of the debate team in order to be more appealing to Kelly, it made sense that he'd charm his way in.

Campbell  didn't need to worry about that. He got recruited to help with the set,  and that was fine. It was something to pass the time, as always, and  Elle was often there to help with choreography. It was a nice, long  distraction. By the time rehearsals were over, they had two weeks left  until prom and three until graduation; it was so close to being over that Campbell could taste it, and damn it was good. The play itself would shave one week off, and everyone would be too busy going bananas over prom that they wouldn't have time for much idle gossip.

Perfect.

Or,  at least, it would have been perfect. Just before the opening night of  the play, something began to smell. Literally. Campbell was hanging out  with a few of the drama club kids he'd met through the play, the five of  them sharing a few orders of fries after a long day of getting the  stage ready for the big event. They were on their way out when Campbell  caught a whiff of what smelled like rotting flesh. He gagged, covering  his nose with his sleeve, and soon the other teen were coughing as well.

"What  the fuck is that?" demanded Elaine, a chunky girl with bright pink  hair, ripped jeans, and an MCR shirt. "Jesus christ, Henry, I told you  not to go for the chili fries."

Henry, a scrawny blond, made a noise of complaint. "It's not me!"

"The  wind is coming from the northeast," Campbell interrupted as everyone began to blame each other. "It's probably in the wood somewhere. A sewer  leak or something."

Everyone quieted down and agreed, but the  smell only got worse and worse as the evening went on. The next morning,  Campbell and Sam came downstairs to find their living room filled up  with people. Their parents, Harry's mother, Aunt Amanda and Uncle Jim, a  few other influential members of town... and in front of them all,  their other uncle, Rogers. Frequently heard blustering on about some  damn thing, usually something racist, he wasn't anyone Campbell had any  desire to be around. But there he was, shouting about the smell and what  to do about it.

Campbell tuned it all out and made breakfast for  himself, slipping out the door and heading to school before he was  noticed. The smell was, in fact, terrible. Students were whispering  theories to each other all day. Campbell heard that the smell was a dead  whale washed up on the coast and the wind was carrying the smell, that  it was a terrorist attack, that it was ghosts coming to haunt the town  for some misdeed, it was meth gone wrong... But in the end, there were  no answers. Just a constant, unyielding reek that seemed to be coming  from everywhere.

At the very least, the first night of the play  went off without a hitch. Even if it smelled like a dead skunk basted  with cow farts outside, Cassandra and Harry were beautiful, witty, and  gave a flawless performance. No one really payed attention to the fact  that there was a town meeting among the adults the next day; Campbell  overheard his mother talking to his father about it, and how Uncle  Rogers had contacted some guy named Pfeiffer to get rid of the smell.

Campbell  flopped on Harry's bed as Harry dug around his closet for a suit to  wear to prom. "Who the hell has a job in smell removal? Is that a  thing?"

"Don't know, and who cares? As long as I can go back to  eating without everything tasting faintly like septic tank, that's all I  care about."

Whatever the Pfeiffer guy was about, the day after  the town meeting, the smell did vanish as quickly as it had come. For  short time, things went back to normal. Campbell stayed home-- you've  seen one night in a play, you've seen them all, in his opinion-- to cook  mushroom carbonara while everyone else was out. If nothing else, he  knew how to make a good pan of noodles, and it gave him time to think  about asking Elle to prom. A sort of asinine affair, something he and  Cassandra agreed on, but it was the last big thing of high school. Maybe  it was worth a shot.

On the last night of the play, the smell  returned. It was even worse than before, so strong that it stung their  eyes and made some of the younger kids choke; the adults called yet  another emergency meeting, and this time, it was decided that the EPA  would be contacted. Until then, all students 16 and over would be sent  away on a camping trip until the smell was removed. An exciting prospect  in Campbell's mind, considering his family had never been camping his  whole life. A whole weekend in the middle of nowhere? Roasting  marshmallows, hiking, swimming, freaking Allie out with spooky stories?  Cool.

"Mom and dad wanted to know if you got your toothbrush,"  Sam signed as they stood on the school lawn, everyone waiting for the  buses to pick them up. "Did you?"

"Tell them to get fucked."

Sam  stared. Campbell forced a cheerful smile and headed off to go wait  elsewhere. He was standing at the curb when he heard someone  approaching; he turned his head, ready to tell Sam to leave him alone,  when Campbell realized it was Grizz heading his way. He was pale, his  gait fast and jaw tight as he glanced around. Huh. Weird. The football  player never really seemed nervous about much.

"Hey Campbell," Grizz greeted. "I have a question for you."

"I'm flattered, but I'm already asking someone to prom."

Narrowing his eyes, Grizz glared at him. "Hey. No, it's... Did you tag the wall of the church last night?"

"What?" Campbell blinked. "I'm no fan of Christianity, but no. I didn't tag the church with anything. Why?"

"Just wondering. There's some creepy Bible quote on one of the outside walls. Just thought maybe you'd know something about it."

"Someone's probably just dicking with us, man."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right."

There  wasn't much time to debate it. Cassandra and her gaggle joined them at  the curb, all of them eagerly chattering at Grizz, who seemed to be the  group Boy Scout and everyone wanted camping advice. Five school buses  pulled up soon after, and everyone began to pile on. One of the few  places left on the bus was next to Elle; she had a look on her face that  was positively icy, but he decided to take the chance anyways.

Campbell rested his hand on the seat and nodded to the empty space next to her. "Hey, I'm Campbell. Do you mind if I sit here?"

Elle glanced up at him. She didn't smile, didn't speak, but she shrugged a little and moved over enough to make room.

"Excited for the trip?"

"Not especially. I prefer indoor plumbing. You?"

"I don't know. It might be an adventure."

"An adventure, huh? From what I hear, you make plenty of your own excitement."

"Oh? Where'd you hear that?"

"I just pay attention."

Campbell  leaned a little closer. She didn't flinch away, but she was watching him with a cautious intensity he hadn't seen from many others before. "It's too bad we've been going to school together all this time, and never really talked, don't you think?"

"What is there for us to talk about?"

"Dance, maybe. How many years did you do ballet before you moved here?"

"You know about that?"

"I pay attention, too."

That earned him the tiniest of smirks. "Okay, smartass. What else do you know about me?"

"Your  family moved here from New York when you were about twelve. You tried to make friends with Lexie and her goon squad, but they ignored you and  ever since then you've kinda just been alone. You spend most of your time reading, or playing the piano."

"Piano."

"Junior year, we had math together and Gelstein let us listen to music during tests." Campbell placed his fingers on the back of the seat in front of  him, moving them along like he was tapping on invisible keys. "You'd move your fingers along to the music, but you thought no one noticed because you sat in the back."

"Ohh, you've got a good eye. Yeah, I can play the piano. But I feel like that's cheating a little. You sat right next to me."

"That's true. I also know that you eat all the green M&Ms first, and that is not something I found out sitting next to you."

Elle leaned back and arched her eyebrows. "You know, some people might considered that level of observation a little creepy."

"Do you think it is?"

"I don't know yet."

"Think you'll know in time for prom?"

"Well, how about this." She was smiling now, and the corners of her eyes crinkled a little. "Ask me when this trip is over."

A  fair enough deal. They spent the rest of the morning discussing music,  art, and entertainment; Campbell had to stop and let Elle ramble from time to time, though he noticed she did the same and wondered if it was  for the same reason. He wasn't used to talking, to the point where he was getting winded. They had similar enough tastes, as far as modern music was concerned, and a similar view on politics. He liked modern dance, while she liked the more traditional forms, but it was still a shared interest.

They continued talking until the sun set and the bus fell silent, with students falling asleep as the bus ride continued well into the night. Elle slumped over near midnight, resting  her head on his shoulder. She yawned, content. "This is fun. How come we've never talked before?"

"I don't know." Campbell allowed her to nestle close. He wanted to stroke her hair, but he kept his hands to  himself. He didn't want to scare her by being too much, too fast. "I guess I was scared to approach you."

"Why?"

"Because you're pretty, and I'm trouble."

Ella closed her eyes, voice muffled as she drifted off to sleep. "Maybe I'm trouble, too."

Cute,  but it was hard to imagine. Not because she was a girl or because she was small-- he'd seen a 4'11" girl take down a two hundred and fifty pound football player with one well aimed kick to the dick-- but because  he'd never heard a single bad word about her from anyone who mattered.  Well, who knew. Maybe she had a rap sheet from back home in New York.  Campbell smiled a little, falling asleep himself soon after.

He  had no clue how much time had passed when the school bus jerked to a halt. He stirred, blinking as the lights on the bus flickered back on. Everyone was murmuring, trying to figure out what was going on. Were they there? It was supposed to be a twelve hour ride, including breaks along the way, but they had left at three in the evening and the time on  his phone said it was only a little past one in the morning.

"Change of plans," the bus driver said. His tone was flat. Bored. "Rock slides. The road is closed. You're back home."

The  murmurs turned into sounds of disbelief. Campbell stood as the bus doors opened, making his way out along with everyone else. He stopped on  the school lawn, and stared out into the darkness; there was no one there, no one besides the other students, and the weird smell was gone.  It couldn't have been fixed that fast. The useless government never did  anything fast, and it hadn't even been a full day yet.

"The fuck," he muttered as the buses all pulled away and left. "What is this?"

Ella stood next to him, frowning. "Strange. That's what."

Everyone  began texting, calling. Campbell tried his father's number, knowing Sam  was probably going to call their mother. It rang, and didn't stop ringing. No answer. No voicemail, even. He glanced around. He could see  the worry and panic on everyone else as they seemed to be reaching similar results. No one was answering. Something was obviously wrong. With the smell gone, he wondered if it really had been a gas leak, and now everyone was fucking dead. Only one way to know for sure.

Plastering  a smile on his face, Campbell looked to Sam and shrugged like it was no  big deal. Make it seem like everything was fine. No need to freak out  and start some kind of mass riot. "Well, I'm going home."

Sam  grabbed his arm. His eyes were wide, and he was obviously at that freak  out point already. "You're not going to wait for me?" he whispered, not  bothering to even sign.

Campbell made a quick sign. "Hurry up, then."

He  kept walking, and soon enough he heard footsteps trailing behind him. They walked in silence for a bit, before Sam signed to him. "Where do you think our parents are?"

"Home. Asleep."

"Do you think that's all?"

"Yeah." Campbell didn't believe it for a second, but Sam didn't need to know that right then. "Probably."

When  they made it home, the cars were still there. All the lights were out inside. Campbell went in first, calling out to their parents, but there  was no answer. Campbell and Sam exchanged a look; Sam's lips pursed, knowing without any words passing between them what the look meant. They  were alone. Campbell searched downstairs, then headed upstairs. He  didn't even care that Sam was right on his heels. It meant that they could both confirm at the same time that they were, in fact, alone in the house.

"No note," Sam said. "No message on the phone. Where could they be?"

Campbell  frowned. He didn't have a damn clue what to tell his brother, but then  their phones both began to blow up. Campbell looked at his, hoping for  the first time in forever that it was their parents, but it was Harry.  His mother was gone. Kelly's parents, too. No one could reach anyone, and their data was all knocked out.

Probably from the storm, Campbell texted back.

Yeah, Harry answered, and did the storm take all our parents too?

A  good question. Suddenly he had texts from Elle and Cassandra, even Allie, asking where he and Sam were and could they find anyone. Cassandra finally texted for the two of them to meet her and everyone else back at the school. ASAP.

"Are you gonna go?" Sam asked.

It  wasn't even really worth thinking about. Of course he was going to go,  if only so he could get some idea of where things were heading. People  were gonna start wigging out, and Campbell knew history well enough to  know that a bunch of teenagers alone and afraid never meant anything good. And maybe someone, somewhere, had actually found something. Campbell nodded to Sam, and they both headed out to meet with Cassandra.  

By the time they got to the school, a crowd had formed. Not  everyone, and mostly seniors, but enough for Campbell to know it'd get  ugly if the impromptu meeting didn't go well. Elle was there; she came  over and stood at his side, one arm crossed in front of her chest and  the other tangled up in her hair, her bottom lip pouting out a little.  She opened her mouth to speak, but then someone else-- one of the  football players, loud and brash-- yelled out.

"Who decided we needed a flash mob?"

Cassandra stepped out of the shadows. She stood on the other side of Campbell, pulling herself tall. "I did."

"What the fuck, Cassandra?"

"Better  than 200 people sending texts. Has anyone been able to reach anyone?" she asked. The crowd was either silent, or mumbled a negative. "No one?  Okay. Well, there's... there's definitely a simple explanation."

A voice Campbell didn't recognize yelled out. "Like what?"

"Um.  They, uh." Cassandra glanced at Campbell. He said nothing, hell, he didn't even move; if anyone thought he was influencing her, they'd never  listen. "They were evacuated, after we left. And there was a miscommunication, and we were brought back here by mistake."

"Someone would still answer a phone," Kelly pointed out.

"Maybe  they're asleep. I don't know, maybe they some place with no reception.  They're in a shelter with... with no reception, or something. In the morning, someone will answer a phone."

Goddamn  it. Cassandra, cool and collected Cassandra, was losing it. Standing  this close to her, Campbell could tell that she was shaking. Not much,  but enough that Campbell felt a spark of worry. They were supposed to be  the reasonable ones. Cassandra was valedictorian, disliked and  unpopular but vocal and well-known in their senior class. If Cassandra  lost it, the rest wouldn't be far behind.

"Maybe it's not safe for us to be here, if they all left."

"A  couple hours isn't gonna make a difference. We'll figure this all out in the morning. Right now, we should just... uh, go home. Yeah, we should go home. And anyone who doesn't want to, uh, be alone can come back to our house. Right?"

Allie smiled when Cassandra looked to her. "Sure."

"Is that your advice, Cassandra?"

It  had to be Harry that challenged her. Campbell cursed under his breath,  and resisted the urge to strangle him. Cassandra and Harry always had been rivals, butting heads over everything and fighting for power at every turn, with Cassandra usually emerging victorious. But what about now, when people were scared and tensions were climbing?  

"Yeah. Yeah, Harry, yeah, just go to sleep."

Harry  rolled his eyes, but people began to disperse. Well, some people. The majority stayed put, hovering around closer to Harry and the jock brigade; they were whispering about the local liquor store, and Campbell  took the moment to sidle over to Cassandra while everyone else seemed  distracted.

"Do you honestly believe any of that?" he wondered, lowering his voice.

Cassandra  shook her head. She took a breath, but it was already all too clear that she was out of her depth. "I have to, right now. It won't do any good tonight to think about it too much. We need to all go home, get some rest, and see what tomorrow brings."

"You know as well as I do that if we don't start preparing for the worst now, tomorrow it's gonna hit and this whole place is gonna go all Lord of the Flies."

"What the hell do you think happened?"

"Cassie, haven't you noticed anything else, besides our missing families?"

"The smell."

"Yeah, the smell. How are you gonna explain that to them? Or did the smell go to a shelter with no reception, too?"

Biting  her lip, Cassandra looked at the crowd gathering around Harry. Before she could say anything else, Allie came prancing up, a cheeky smile on her face. "Cassandra. Campbell." His name was said like it was something  disgusting, and her smile hardened just a bit. "I guess the guys are  planning to raid the liquor store and have a party. Coming?"

"Really?" Cassandra sighed. "No way. I'm going to head home and try to figure this out. Please don't burn anything down."

Allie  grinned and made her way back to her friends. Cassandra, Gordie, and their friend Bean headed off towards home. Campbell knew it'd be for the  best to just leave, but he could see that Sam was staying, and Elle was  watching him expectantly. Harry was waving them both over, and Campbell  sighed. Might as well. Despite how bizarre it all was, the idea of not  having to race home by ten and play Good And Normal Son with his parents  was appealing.

"What was that about?" Elle asked. Her tone was light, but her eyes were sharp. "With you and Cassandra?"

"Oh, just cousin bickering. How about this party, huh?"

It  started as just a bunch of them hanging out on the front yard of the church, with beers getting passed around. Campbell and Elle camped out in a quieter corner, each with their own drink. But within fifteen minutes, Clark had discovered that the church doors were open. It seemed  wrong. So, so very wrong. That's what made it fun. Campbell smirked as  people texted their friends, brought more liquor, and rigged up some  music. The air was just vibrating with bass and the cheers of about a  hundred drunk, high teenagers. It was blasphemous, and oh, they were all loving it.

"Can  you imagine the looks on their faces?" Campbell laughed with Elle as he  downed another cup of alcohol. "Those stuck up fucks would piss  themselves."

Elle answered, but her voice was muffled. Far away.  His vision was dimmer around the edges and he felt good; he grabbed Elle  by the hand and led her out to where people were dancing. Harry's  shitty little pity parties had never appealed to him much, and certainly  not the stiff swaying back and forth of school dances with their  parent-approved music, but this? This was something new, different. They  could do anything and they weren't going to get caught. Not yet. The cats were away, and they were all a bunch of fucking rats  ready to play.

At least, that's what Campbell thought, but after  people started pouring beers off the second story, Elle retreated into  an empty stairway. Campbell followed. A bad idea, in hindsight, but  they'd been having a good time. Hadn't they? She had tucked herself into  a corner, wiping beer off her skin and wringing it from her hair;  Campbell stepped closer, smiling.

"I don't know, I think you look kinda hot this way."

Elle didn't look at him. "Yeah, well, I don't really care what anyone else thinks right now."

"Hey.  Why are you spoiling all the fun?" Campbell asked. She didn't say anything, just giving him an irritated look. "Is it like a ballerina thing? Act all cold? Is that..."

Without a word, she tried to push past him. Campbell grabbed her arm, but she spun around and fixed him with a glare. "Seriously?"

Campbell blinked. He didn't know exactly what was happening, but she was angry, and he let go of her arm.  She kept walking, heading towards the exit. He sighed, mumbling under  his breath so she wouldn't hear. "Your loss."

Everything after  that was mostly a very long blur, ending in a wall of black. Not something he'd done in a while, getting completely wasted, and not something he was eager to repeat when he woke up the next morning with a  throbbing headache. Light hurt, sound hurt. The worst part was that he  just barely remembered what happened with Elle.

"Shit," he groaned as his phone blasted him with full brightness. Still, he managed to tap out a text to her. I'm sorry about last night. I'm an asshole and I was drunk. Forgive me? "Send."

It  was the best he could do at that second. Campbell dragged himself out of bed, stumbling downstairs where Sam was making breakfast. Sam glanced  at him, flipping some bacon. Campbell wanted to gag at the smell, but  there was a small stack of toasted Eggo waffles on the counter, and he  snagged one of those.

"No parents," Sam signed. "No calls or anything."

Campbell  just waved his hand and sunk his face into his arm. He figured. There hadn't been any furious screaming about the state of the church, after all. Sam sat down at the table, and Campbell raised his head enough to watch him for a moment. Now that he was sober, he was back to being able  to read people. He could see on Sam's face that Sam was scared. He kept  eyeing Campbell, then looking away, and shifting like his body just  didn't want to sit still. His body was turned away. Closed off. Insecure. He didn't like being alone with Campbell.

Well, who did anymore, really?

His phone buzzed. He hoped it was Elle, but it was from Harry. Campbell tapped on the notification, and stared at the text. Get to the bridge. NOW.

Sam's phone went off next. "Becca wants me at the bridge outside of town."

Please, a second text read. I'm scared.

Harry  had never said that, not in all the years they'd been friends. Campbell  stuffed another waffle in his mouth, and threw on his flannel shirt.  "Let's go."

It took almost twenty minutes to jog there. Sam kept  up, thankfully. Campbell wasn't about to wait around when Harry was  reduced to begging. Something was wrong, he could feel it in his stomach  more than ever. The closer he got, the more he could see there was a  small crowd formed. Cassandra, Allie, Becca, Will. Gordie, Bean, Kelly.  Luke, Clark, Grizz, Harry. Helena. Sam went to his friends, who were  sitting by the railing of the bridge; Campbell went to Harry, who was  crowded around his far with the jocks and Helena.

"What's going on?" Campbell hissed, pulling Harry off to the side. "You look ready to pass the fuck out."

Harry  just pointed. Campbell followed the line of sight. Trees. Trees had completely demolished the train tracks leading out of town. They just...  ended. Campbell went to turn back to Harry, and noticed the same thing  had happened to the road, too. He rubbed his eyes; maybe he was still  drunk, or someone had slipped him something. But no. It was like a wall  of forest.

Harry spoke, only just audible. "It's like that the  whole way around." He was breathing faster, his voice trembling faintly.  "We tried the internet, Bean tried to call 911. Nothing. There's no one  out there. We're trapped."

Campbell reached out, resting his  hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry leaned into the touch ever so slightly.  Adults and the younger kids, gone. The smell, gone. A natural barrier,  cutting them off from every escape route, and they were-- for the  moment-- alone. How? He couldn't fathom, but how didn't  exactly matter at the moment. What mattered was that this was reality.  Somehow, some way, they were going to have to survive it.

They were worse than trapped.

They were completely, truly, screwed.

#the society #the society netflix #the society fanfiction #the society netflix fanfiction #the society fanfic #the society netflix fanfic #the society fic #the society netflix fic #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #writing #campbell eliot #sam eliot #elle tomkins #harry bingham #cassandra pressman #tw: alcohol #tw: drugs #tw: consent issues #wroughtwriting

[thedoctorishereguys]

Rules: I was supposed to tag 25 people. I’m not doing that. I hate tagging people. Do it if you want to. It passes time.

I grabbed the open tag from someone or another. IDK. It’s on my dash quite a bit today. Hello, whoever I grabbed it from!

LAST: LAST THING I BOUGHT: Coffee. LAST STORE I VISITED: CVS, but I work there. Uh. Fuck, I haven’t gone to any store in like months other than my work. Uh. Gas station, I guess, for my smokes? LAST TEXT MESSAGE: “I can come in for work now if you can pick me up. TY.” LAST SONG YOU LISTENED TO: Everyone says don’t, sung by Raul Esparza. LAST THING I ATE: Shit, when did I even eat last? Fuck. Um. Yeah, this would be easier to answer if I ate more than like once a day. I think steak? Maybe? Idk, really. HAVE YOU EVER: DATED SOMEONE TWICE: Nope BEEN CHEATED ON: I don’t think so? But I wouldn’t put it past the bastard I was with, really. KISSED SOMEONE AND REGRETTED IT: … Honestly, y’know, that’s complicated. I regret the relationship I was in, but I don’t regret having been sexual in general with that person? So… yes and no? Idk. LOST SOMEONE SPECIAL: Yes. My great-grandmas have been gone 12-13 years now and I still have trouble talking about their deaths. BEEN DEPRESSED: I have bipolar disorder, depressed is one of my main emotions. BEEN DRUNK AND THROWN UP: Way too many times to count. IN THE PAST YEAR HAVE YOU: MADE A NEW FRIEND: Yes FALLEN OUT OF LOVE: No. But I haven’t fallen in love either. LAUGHED UNTIL YOU CRIED: Yes MET SOMEONE WHO CHANGED YOU: Yes. FOUND OUT WHO YOUR TRUE FRIENDS WERE: Yes. In all the good ways, found that people I didn’t realize were close really were. I ended up in a psych ward due to a complete mental breakdown, and I realized I had an entire support network that I never thought to ask for help from before. Just everyone in my life really rallied around me. One of my friends, who generally hates driving distances, drove almost an hour to the hospital to see me, sometimes more than once a week (I was there for almost a month). That same friend also hugged me when he left, even though he is the least touchy-feely guy in existence. One of my work friends got really worried about me when I stopped coming to work, but he still didn’t pressure me to talk about it, just asked me what he can do to help, but told me that he doesn’t need to know what happened, only what I’m willing to share. I did tell him everything, because he is a good friend, but he was so good to me. People I hadn’t talked to in ages, because I was isolating severely beforehand, came and visited, or called, and it was just so touching. Even now, a couple months later, people will ask me how I’m doing, and my best friend (the one who drove couple times a week to visit) makes sure to call me several times a week just to check in, just so I don’t end up in that situation again. After the first psych ward visit (I had two this summer), I attempted suicide, and I called that best friend in a panic that I needed to get to the hospital, but I didn’t want my parents to know what I had done, so I didn’t want to call 911, and he came and got me right away, and he stayed at the hospital for almost 2 hours, until they took me back into the psych ward. FOUND OUT SOMEONE WAS TALKING ABOUT YOU: Yes, a coworker, but she does that to everyone, although I think I’m her special project. I don’t much care. GENERAL: HOW MANY PEOPLE ON TUMBLR DO YOU KNOW IN REAL LIFE?: Uh… no one, I guess, but I still defend I know enough about one to count it, so there. DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS?: No and thank god. I’m not an animal person. I used to have lizards, but they died on me. I like lizards. I wanted snakes, but my mom (with whom I still live) said absolutely fucking not. DO YOU WANT TO CHANGE YOUR NAME?: Nah, I like mine. Wish people would pronounce it right, but that’s a different matter. WHAT TIME DID YOU WAKE UP THIS MORNING?: 6 fucking a.m. Which was only because I was due in at work at 7, otherwise, I am not conscious before 1pm, and often sleep until 3. WHAT WERE YOU DOING LAST NIGHT?: Hm. Work until 8pm, which was hell, and then fucking around on the computer until like 1a.m. Which may explain why I feel like death today. NAME SOMETHING YOU CAN’T WAIT FOR: Getting to drive again? Coffee with a girl next week? Seeing my best friend again? HAVE YOU EVER MET SOMEONE NAMED TOM?: … Honestly, I’m sure I have, but none come to mind. Must not have made a huge impression on me. WHAT’S GETTING ON YOUR NERVES RN?: Not much. I’m too tired to give any fucks about anything. Uh. The existence of 7 a.m. I’m pretty sure the devil invented mornings as a punishment for our sins. BLOOD TYPE: A positive. I used to be a blood donor, so I’ve known my blood type for years (I am no longer a blood donor, because the last time I donated, I got so sick my doctor was tempted to transfuse my blood back in.) NICKNAME: I don’t have one. And that’s fine with me. There are no ways to shorten my name, it’s only two syllables, and I don’t particularly care for pet names. Dear and sweetheart and honey are just… ugh. The only one I like is ‘babe’, and obviously, that’s not one I’ll let many people call me (I do have a coworker who calls me that, but she’s awesome, so she can) RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single. ZODIAC SIGN: Which one’s the zodiac? Is that the one with the animals, like the rat and the horse and ram, or is that the one with the astrology crap, like Cancer and Aries and Taurus? Either way, I’m a horse and a Sagittarius. And it makes no fucking difference. The year you were born in has zero effect on your personality, and the gravitational pull of the planets even less so. Actually, people have done the math, and the gynecologist present exerts as much gravitational pull on you (because all objects exert gravitational pull, not just planets and stars) as some of the planets on the horoscope, so if you really want to blame someone for your failings, why not the doctor who birthed you? The whole thing is an utter load of nonsense, really, bullshit fucking pseudo-science idiots keep falling for because they need something to believe in, because the stark reality that there is nothing guiding their lives and everything is random is too bleak. (This bleeds into my problems with religion, too, by the way, but I have a measure more respect for that, because at least it instills some level of ethics, which astrology utterly fails to do. But only a measure more.) PRONOUNS: She/Her FAVORITE TV SHOW: Doctor Who, Doctor Who, Doctor Who. All the goddamn way, do not take away my Doctor Who. Every other show can go off the air before you take away my precious Doctor Who. COLLEGE: I went to a state school. HAIR COLOR: Black with purple. LONG OR SHORT: My hair? Or other random body parts? I don’t have a penis, otherwise I’d totally make a dick joke here. My hair is as short as I can get it. DO YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON SOMEBODY: Totally! And she said yes to a date, so score! And then there are fictional characters and celebs, and I really need to be better at tagging my posts so @hawkland doesn’t slap me one of these days. FIRSTS: FIRST SURGERY: Breast reduction, 2009. FIRST PIERCING: Ears, 2014. FIRST BEST FRIEND: … First? You honestly expect me to remember that far back? Fucking hell. FIRST SPORT YOU JOINED: Basketball? Soccer? Idk, it was one of those two. FIRST VACATION: That I can remember or that I went on? Because the first that I know of was Slovakia. The first I can remember was… Huh. Hungary, I guess? FIRST PAIR OF SNEAKERS: Who the fuck remembers their sneakers? I couldn’t tell you what sneakers I own right fucking now.   EATING: What are you asking me? First time I ate? First thing I ate? I’m guessing so, since this is under firsts… Well, is breastmilk a food or a liquid? Let’s go with food. So first food was around 10 minutes old and it was breastmilk. WTF is wrong with you? Who else would say anything substantially different? Sure, maybe they had formula instead, but no one is going to say, “Oh, I first ate at 25, and it was a fine steak dinner.” If they do, they’re an alien. DRINKING: Listen, seriously, what the hell? I’M ABOUT TO: Idk. Take a nap, maybe? LISTENING TO: Nothing, I feel no compulsion to surround myself with noise at all hours of the day and night. WANT KIDS: Fuck no. Not ever. GET MARRIED: Sure, if I find someone I like and who can, at least, tolerate me. CAREER: Ideally. WHICH IS BETTER: LIPS OR EYES: For what? Lips are good for kissing and sucking and integral in speaking, which help with things like “I love you,” eyes are good for looking and part of communication. Really. How do you pick? HUGS OR KISSES: Hm. Toughie. Idk. SHORTER OR TALLER: I like my men taller and my women my height. As I’m mainly interested in women… OLDER OR YOUNGER: My age. ROMANTIC OR SPONTANEOUS?: Uh. I’m not a fan of spontaneous, really, I don’t like shit sprung on me. But I’m too awkward to pull romantic off, I usually stick my foot in my mouth about a minute in. Planned out, at least. SENSITIVE OR LOUD: Yeah, these two really aren’t mutually exclusive. Sensitive doesn’t mean you’re not a screamer 😉

HOOK UP OR RELATIONSHIP: Depends what you’re looking for? I mean, I know sometimes I just want sex, and that’s fine, that’s totally OK. And sometimes I want a relationship. It depends what you want. TROUBLEMAKER OR HESITANT: Yeah, hesitant isn’t usually in my wheelhouse. Depends on the situation really. But I’m not a troublemaker, per se. HAVE YOU EVER: KISSED A STRANGER: No. Not really? DRANK HARD LIQUOR: Yeah. A lot of it. I’m a recovering alcoholic, and vodka was my drink of choice. LOST GLASSES/CONTACTS: Nope. If they’re not on my face, they’re on my nightstand. SEX ON THE FIRST DATE: I’m open to it. I don’t see anything wrong with being sexual, as long as both parties are clear on what they want. BROKEN SOMEONE’S HEART: I’m honestly not sure. BEEN ARRESTED: No TURNED SOMEONE DOWN: Yes FALLEN FOR A FRIEND: Yes DO YOU BELIEVE: IN YOURSELF: Some of the time. LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT: Yeah, no. You can feel lust, attraction, whatever, at first sight. But love? The most you can love at first sight is the idea you have built up in your head of that person. You don’t know that person at all when you first meet them, how can you love them? HEAVEN: Yeah, see my rant above about religion. I’m an atheist. No heaven. SANTA CLAUS: … I did not just get asked this. Yes. Of course I believe in Santa Claus. And the Easter Bunny. And the fucking Tooth Fairy, which was always the most imbecilic of the lot, and really just there to see how much we can stretch childhood innocence. Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny at least have some kind of sense for a child, but now we’re trying to convince them there’s a goddamn fairy who’d rather have a tooth than money? Who the fuck came up with this? Are we just outright saying children are fucking dumb little shits who’ll believe any fool thing we tell them? Because, yeah, of course most of them do, their parents, who they trust unconditionally, are telling them these things, and telling them about the Tooth Fairy – and Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, by the way – is an exploitation of that trust, and of childhood innocence. We do it because it’s cute that little kids fervently believe in a magical man who brings presents, instead of the truth, which is that their parents love them, and that because they love them, this one day, they are given gifts, out of that love, and on a holiday that had become about familial love. How is that not a better story? Why does some magical shit need to get involved? And the contortions people put themselves through to keep Santa alive for their children, it’s absurd! (Also, don’t tell me Christmas is not about familial love, because it absolutely is – yes, it’s a religious holiday too, but I think Jesus would approve of it being about love, given his beliefs).

Ugh. Santa Claus. Fucking hell.