#getting emotional about getting to sing loudly and badly in hotel rooms that were closed to the general public :(

[lucyintheskywithxanax]

My Silver Screen, My Misery, My Love, My Defeat

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x Fem Reader

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write something with Billie Dean for so long but didn’t know where to start. This lady intimidates me. I don’t know what this fic is worth, and I’m so nervous about posting it - I know it’s not particularly nice, but it’s the most personal fic I ever wrote so please be kind. 

Title is from “Pacific Coast Highway In The Movies” by AWOLNATION. This song haunts me. x

Word count: ~ 3 000

“Dear me when will my life begin?” you sighed dramatically as you gathered your things.

“Bitch, I never want to see you again,” your boss growled, pointing an angry finger at you.

“Goodbye, asshole!” you called over your shoulder as you walked out of the room.

You had never cared about that job. You didn’t seem to be able to care about anything at all. You were so bored.

Real life lacked passion and colours. You were constantly hungry for a sense of wonderment. No emotion was worth feeling if it wasn’t extreme. You wanted to know how it felt to love so deeply you would faint in the dining room like the heroines of old, drive your car off a cliff, smash the heads of your lover’s suitors. When had the world and love become so boring?

You had come to believe you would never be able to fall in love with anyone. Fiction had ruined your life. You wanted beauty, you wanted glamour, you wanted passion and murder, tears shed under the stars, diamonds on the bed. You wanted a lover who would come down the stairs in a white silk gown with lace as the music and the lighting made love to her. Cherry pink lips and wavy hair, glitter in her eyes. How could anyone settle for less?

You walked into the bright sunlight and let the flow of pedestrians sweep you away.

**

You scanned the press room and sighed. Bored, you were so bored. Luckily the couches were comfortable, and the tea was good.

You worked for the local newspaper – nothing serious, nothing you were passionate about, but you had been struggling to make ends meet. You and another journalist were covering an annual festival celebrating “everything mystical and magical!” Bollocks, as far as you were concerned. But you loved festivals, you always had. There was something almost surreal about them, how time seemed to slow down, and space to narrow. A bubble would form, a dome, a world only a few were let in. Real life would stop for a while, and you loved that, because real life was boring.

The press secretary – Leo? Theo? who cared; he was uninteresting and badly dressed – waved at you from across the room. “She’s here,” he mouthed, meaning the medium you were to interview. You gave him a thumbs-up and sighed as soon as he turned his back to you. Notebook, pen, Dictaphone. Cup of tea - empty. Another sigh. You signaled to the old lady behind the counter at the far end of the room for another cup. She pretended not to see you.  

“Asshole,” you muttered between gritted teeth. Someone on the couch next to yours – Steve? Pete? he had introduced himself the day before, he worked for a national TV channel, you couldn’t remember which one – laughed loudly at something someone else had said.

Your attention was suddenly drawn to the door. The press secretary was ushering a group of people in: a young man wearing jeans, a girl clutching files to her chest, a woman who walked in as if she owned the place, high-heels clicking, smile flashing.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Pete (Steve?) point at her. “Man, that’s Billie Dean Howard,” he said in a breath.

“Who?” asked his companion.

“Oi, Miss Howard!” someone called – a photographer, jumping to his feet with his camera in his hands.

She glanced at him, offered him a polite smile; tilted her head on one side as she took a pose.

You gazed at her.

“Make sure the lighting is good,” she told the photographer.

The young man in jeans was buzzing around her, almost shoving a notebook into her face, muttering something about a timetable and how they were running out of time. She leaned away from him, holding out a perfectly manicured hand – pale pink acrylics, thin silver rings – to bat the notebook away. You saw her mouth twist in an annoyed kind of way, and then the press secretary nodded at you, and she turned, and her eyes met yours.

Her brow pushed up as a smug smile crept up her lips – plump, glittery beige lipstick. “Are you here for me, babydoll?” she called.

And just like that you were done for. For the stars were singing, and your heart was finally. Admiring. Entranced. Alive.

Oh thank all the freaking Gods, she had finally come.

**

You turned on the Dictaphone and grabbed your pen. Your hands were sweating.

“Ur,” you said. Billie Dean crossed her legs and folded her hands on her knee, smiling.

You had prepared for this interview, vaguely, but she had stolen all the words from you. Kidnap me, was what you wished to tell her. Ravish me. Take me away with you from this grey world and fill my mind and heart with wonderment. Make me your co-star.

“So, what do you think of the city so far?” was what came out of your mouth. You could have died of embarrassment.

Fortunately for you, Billie Dean loved to talk about herself, so you didn’t have to rack your brain for interesting questions.

You told her you had waited for her your whole life. You told her you meant it. She looked genuinely surprised, but then she smiled, a smile that seemed to suggest she had already forgiven you for that mistake. You realized that, probably, your passionate childishness was very funny to her, as were all those who had succumbed to it before you.

“The scariest spirit I’ve ever met?” She leant back on the couch, eyes staring up at the ceiling, lips curling into a smile. “I don’t get scared easily,” she quipped, and her smile turned into a smirk.

“Are you planning on staying here long?”

Her eyes sparkled. “Depends if I can find a cozy bed to sleep in and a pretty girl to smooch.”

Damn her, damn her – you were about to lean in and kiss that smug smile off her lips when the press secretary – damn him, damn him – appeared out of nowhere as in an uninspired script, squeaking “Time’s up!” as if time mattered, as if time hadn’t stopped the minute you had met Billie Dean’s eyes.

The young man in jeans pressed a cup of coffee into Billie’s hands. “Cathy’s waiting for you in the VIP room,” he said nervously. He glanced at you over the rim of his glasses. “You’re done here?”

“I – “You cleared your throat. Billie Dean was standing up, rearranging her hair, ready to leave, ready to forget already –

“You’ll have us read that article before you publish it, alright?” the young man was saying.

“Oh whatever happened to the freedom of the press,” Billie retorted. Her eyes flicked to you. “Don’t mind him.”

“I have a very cozy bed,” you heard yourself say.

For a second or two, you could have heard a pin drop.

**

Billie held your face between her hands as if you were made of porcelain, the first time she kissed you. You gazed into her eyes as if you were dreaming. “Who are you?” you whispered.

She laughed indulgently. “Don’t forget to breathe, darling.”

A breath in. She smelt of cigarette smoke and sage and something else, something like… you didn’t know. There was no word for it. She smelt like Billie Dean Howard, medium to the stars.

**

Billie Dean raised a toast to you and to the sun and said she couldn’t possibly live without either of you. You scoffed, rolled your eyes at her as if that wasn’t the kindest thing anyone had ever said to you. She noticed your reddening cheeks, and let out a chuckle.

“What? It’s a sunburn,” you lied, fighting a smile.  

The midday summer sun was beating down on the Mediterranean, a soft breeze blowing and carrying the scent of the sea. You were spending the week in Monaco, a gift from Billie for your first anniversary. You closed your eyes, breathed in happily. The waiter brought your order, a bistro salad with warm goat cheese on toast for you, a slice of salmon and French fries for Billie. She flashed a smile at him, and his eyes sparkled.

“He’s in love,” you teased, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“With me?” Billie assumed an innocent expression. “Why, I could not possibly believe that.”

You scoffed again. She smiled, pinched a thick slice of lemon between her thumb and index.

“We should come here every summer,” she said in a singsong, drizzling lemon juice over the salmon. “I love it here.”

“Ghost-free?”

She laughed. “I wish. But you look so beautiful with that sunburn.”Her eyes glanced up at you mischievously; you cleared your throat. She smirked, put the slice of lemon on the side of her plate, dried her fingers with her napkin.

“You and I, lost in a foreign country,” she said.

“Luckily for you, I took French lessons in college.”

“Oh is that so?” Under the table, Billie rubbed her bare foot up and down your leg. “And how do you say ‘kiss me’ in French?”

You leaned towards her, beaming. Your gaze flicked to her lips. “Embrasse-moi.”

“Atta girl.”

She took your breath away, every day. You bent over the table, meeting her lips halfway, smiling into the kiss.

**

“I love you,” she whispered. Her eyes smiled. “Forever.”

You pressed the pad of your thumb against her brow. “Um, you can’t know that.”

“Know that I love you?”

“Know that it’ll last forever. Nothing lasts forever.”

She pouted, shifted slightly on the bed. Your thumb slid on her skin. The light streaming through the windows splashed the walls of the hotel room yellow.

“Don’t be so mean at 8 in the morning,” she whined.

You rolled your eyes at her, planted a kiss on her lips. Her skin was hot and clammy. You nuzzled your nose in her neck, blew some air to tickle her. She raised one hand to fan herself – coral acrylics, no rings.

“Call room service,” she said, stretching lazily. “I want some ice cream.”

You snorted.“Ice cream for breakfast?”

“It’s too hot.”

You reached out for the telephone and sat up, making sure your bare breasts were exposed. “Lemon?” you asked Billie. She nodded, gaze on your chest. You made a face. “I don’t understand how you can stand the taste of lemon, it’s so sour – oh, hello. Yes, could we get some lemon ice cream, please? Ice cream, yes. Room 108. And you know what, a bottle of champagne as well. Yes.” You grinned at Billie, who, face half buried in her pillow, was laughing happily. “Thank you. Muchas gracias. Yes. Bye!”

**

“Miss Howard, please.”

“Oh babe, call me Billie.”

“A little further to the left, please Billie.”

“Who’s that with you, miss Billie?”

“Be a doll and fetch me my shawl, will you darling?”

The girl – Lucy? Lily? – nodded in awe and hurried off.

“A little further to the left, Billie.”

Someone turned on a projector. You squinted, gave Billie’s hand a squeeze.

“Miss Billie, who’s that charming young woman with you? Is she your date? Miss Billie, who’s –“

Camera flashes, everywhere. You felt Billie’s lips, feather-light, brush your ear. “Relax,” she whispered. “You look beautiful.”

All around you, you could make out dark shapes, nondescript, unimportant. Spectators of the show. Come to see her, come to see you.

“Miss Billie who’s that charming –“

“Paws off!” Billie laughed. She pulled you closer, hip bumping yours. “She’s all mine, gentlemen.”

You beamed at her, brighter than the projector. Camera flashes, everywhere. To capture the moment when Billie nipped your ear lobe and you threw back your head to laugh, one hand on her arm, in love, so in love.

**

“So what are we doing this weekend?”

You glanced up at her. “Aren’t you busy this weekend?”

Billie flashed you a smile as she sat down on the couch beside you. She laid one hand on your bare thigh, nails gently grazing. “Production’s delayed. I’m all yours.”

With a wince you removed her hand from your thigh. “I’m sweating,” you whined.

Her smile faltered, just a bit. “Aren’t you happy?”she asked. And then she relaxed and shook her head. “Oh, I’m stupid. You made other plans.”

“I’ve nothing to do at all.” You stretched and winced again. “I don’t know. I’m so bored.”

**

It happened again. And again.

You caught yourself looking at other faces in the crowd. No one held a candle to Billie Dean, you knew that. But still. You scanned the crowd.

You pretended not to notice when Billie held out a hand for you to hold.

**

The glamour was fading. The twinkle of the stars was being swallowed up by the morning light.

You had once visited a house. The wallpaper was peeling off, leaving ugly streaks of dirty grey or brown. The landlady’s nail polish was chipped.  

**

Billie’s eyes were wide and rimmed red. You had never seen her look so sad.

“Wait,” she pleaded, her fingers – pale pink acrylics, vintage ring with a red stone – closing around your wrist to hold you back. “Surely we can talk – “She tried to smile, but it looked too broken, too scared.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Billie,” you said, avoiding her gaze. You hesitated. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

Her face fell. “But surely – “

“Are you here for me, babydoll?”

Her teeth sank into her lower lip and a tear rolled down her cheek, but you didn’t wipe it as you usually would. For this was how things always went. People left each other. Staying alive meant getting bored of the people you once loved. The credits roll. The movie ends.

You planted one last kiss on her lips as a sob pushed out of your throat. “Gosh but I loved you so much,” you cried. “I hadn’t been alive before you came. You taught me how to love and now I’ve died again and I’m lost without you. I’m forever lost without my love for you.”

You kept one of her scarves. It still smelt of cigarette smoke and sage and that something else – Billie Dean Howard, medium to the stars.

**

Colours faded to grey. You sank back into routine. Monotonous. Soporific. Boring. So very boring.

A year ago you would have expected the world to stop turning the minute you walked out of Billie Dean’s life. It didn’t. Days followed days, a succession of yesterdays and todays and tomorrows. Life went on, mocking you.

**

The smell of salmon filled the kitchen as you dropped the thick slices onto the burning pan. You smiled as Julie – a one-night stand that somehow had become more – made an appreciative noise. She was sprawled on the sofa, watching TV lazily, muttering “Boring” every time she changed the channel.

“Boring,” – another channel, “Boring,” – another channel, “Bo – oh hello there! Y/N, look, I spot a milf!”

You looked up as the anchorman’s face twisted into a fawning smile. “I’ve got Muriel here on the phone, from Portland, Oregon. Muriel sounds pretty worried. She wants to know if ghosts stay forever as ghosts or if they ever get to find peace.”

The camera cut to his guest – coral acrylics, no rings. The salmon’s grease sizzled on the pan.

“Nice pair of legs,” Julie was saying. “Come on, cameraman, don’t be shy, show us more!”

You shushed her.

“… some of them have been dead for a very long time, I’m afraid,” Billie Dean answered with an affected nod of her head.

Your eyes were wide.

“And what about love?” the anchorman asked.

Billie quirked an eyebrow. “Love?”

“Do you think it’s eternal?”

**

“I can’t believe we’re leaving tomorrow!” your friend Henry moaned drunkenly. He tapped his foot on the pavement like a pouting child. “Couldn’t we buy a house on one of those hills and live here? I wanna live here. I don’t wanna live anywhere else.”

“I know,” you giggled, pulling on his arm. The night was full of lights. You hadn’t expected less from Los Angeles. You hadn’t quite been able to find the angels in the sky, though. You kept an eye out for them.

“The world isn’t fair because we’re poor.”Henry walked up to the nearest streetlight and hugged it. “I’m staying here. I’m not leaving.”

You giggled again, stretching your arms as if you were about to break into dance. The air was warm. For the past few days your heart hadn’t been quite so sad.

A car honked nearby, making you jump, and just as you were about to curse a woman shot out of the hotel on your left in a flurry of yellow and blue and nearly smashed into you – “Shit, look where you’re go – “ – brown eyes, gaze terrified, shoes in her hands, cheeks pink and – “Billie?”

She slammed back into your life like the female protagonist of a Hitchcock movie, running from danger in the moonlight with her hair disheveled and her dress billowing in the wind.

“Billie?”

You caught hold of her wrist and tried to meet her gaze. “Are you alright? What – what happened to you? Did somebody hurt you? Are you alright?” You poured questions onto her as if you couldn’t stop. Her eyes focused on you, and she ran a hand through her hair, and let out a nervous laugh.  

And just like that you were done for. For the stars were singing, and your heart was once again. Admiring. Entranced. Alive.

**

“Never again,” Billie groaned into your mouth. She was holding your head firmly between her hands, devouring you, shivering, panting. “Don’t you dare leave me ever again.”

“I love you,” you moaned. You pushed her down on the bed, eyes flashing hungry and predatory as you took in the sight of her, all flushed and ready for you. “Forever.”

And as you dived in you could almost forget the taste of that one lie.

**

“What about love?” the anchorman asked. “Do you think it’s eternal?”

Billie’s smile faltered. “I’m not sure,” she answered slowly.

“Aw, poor chick got her heart broken,” Julie mocked.

“Lemon?” you asked her.

“Uh?”

“Should I put some lemon juice on the salmon?”

“I hope so,” Billie’s voice said. “I’m not sure – but I hope so.”

#ahs #ahs imagines #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #billie dean howard #billie dean howard x reader #fics

[pkmnclifford]

home. 5 (end)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

a/n: here’s the last part of home!! i had so much fun writing it. it’s probably not the best muke fic, but i’m proud of myself for trying and i’m happy of how it turned out. i’d like to thank every lovely mutual who has encouraged me to write this!! enjoy :-)

summary: michael used to be a rockstar in his hometown. but somehow he blacked out, and now he’s in an unknown city. he meets luke and his friends, and with ashton’s help, the boys finally arrive to greenfield.

word count: 3k

taglist: @cliiffords @babyoria @twilightmomentswithyou @lukeysdimples @calumspeachy @phantastic1daf​

“I’m so lucky I found Luke” Michael said, looking down to his feet. He was sitting on the pavement next to Ashton, in front of their hotel, waiting for Calum and Luke to get ready. The dawn peaking through the tree branches hovering over the parking lot enlightened Michael’s face, warming up his cheeks. He closed his eyes for a minute, letting the warmth spread all over his body. He was so tired.

“Luke is a good guy” Ashton replied. “He gives a chance to everyone. He really has a heart of gold. Please don’t break it.”

Michael swallowed. Ashton didn’t know. He didn’t know how much Michael was going to hurt Luke. He wanted to scream, tell him how sorry he was. He wanted to shout it to the whole world, but he felt like no one would hear him.

“I know you just want to protect him. You’re a good friend, Ash.” Michael mumbled, confronting Ashton’s hazel eyes. “Will you promise me one thing?”

“Depends. What is it?” Ashton glanced at him with an intimidating look. Michael smiled.

“Will you take care of Luke after I go... home?” Michael’s voice broke. Ashton reached out his hand to shake Michael’s, as if they were having a pact.

“I will. Like I always have.” Michael’s eyes teared up again. He sighed.

“Thank you, Ashton.”

A few minutes later, they all got in the car, Luke throwing worried looks at Michael during the ride. It was a weird morning. They all stayed quiet, Calum not even making a joke, as he felt some kind of tension in the air. Michael thought about what would happen once they’d get to Greenfield. Would he know where to go? Or what to do? As all these questions went through his mind, his chest only got more painful, now accompanied by a headache. Michael knew he’d have to say goodbye to Luke at some point. Just thinking about it made him want to cry again. He wanted to hold Luke, so badly. He stared at him for so long during the ride, he didn’t even remember how they got into Greenfield. He was mesmerized by Luke’s soft features, his nose glowing in the morning light, and his gorgeous hair. He absent-mindedly took his hand, and Luke suddenly turned to him, as he felt the contact of Michael’s skin. He smiled so widely Michael wanted to melt, his stomach tied up in knots, the more he thought about what was going to happen. He wanted to get every bit of Luke’s face printed in his mind. He didn’t want to forget him. Never.

“Maybe Michael knows where to go now?”

Michael got caught off his daydreaming by Calum’s voice. The dark skinned boy had turned around on his seat, a questioning look on his face. Apparently, they got into Greenfield, small houses passing by the car’s windows. Michael sat up and tried to look outside.

“Maybe if you drive to the city center, I can guide you.”

Ashton nodded and took the direction of the city center. The second they got in the small streets surrounded by shops and hurried people on the sidewalk, Michael gasped as he saw a sign.

“Burkley road! That’s where I live!”

They followed the sign, ending up a few blocks away, in a suburb with small houses which looked a lot like Luke’s neighborhood. Luke looked very excited to get closer to Michael’s home, but Michael only felt worse. He didn’t know what to expect.

Ashton randomly turned in a small street, and somehow they immediatly knew which house was Michael’s. A small rustic house stood there, on the left corner, surrounded by a huge rose garden. All colors of roses were growing in front of the house, almost reaching the street, but red roses were all around the little fence leading to the door. They were all bathed in the sweet smell of the flowers already.

Silently stepping out of the car, Michael stared at the house, speechless. His home. He walked towards the fence and gently pushed it, knowing Luke, Cal and Ash were following him closely. The smell of roses was now taking over everything. Looking around, all Michael could see was his rose garden, thorn bushes almost hiding the familiar way to his door. As if he was following his faded memories of what felt like a previous life, his feet guided him towards the white door, surrounded by dark, red roses. He stepped on his small porch where he found the familiar little bench, which was also a swing. Michael could recall all of the memories on that swing, long evenings of writing on a hot summer, or the way it swung back and forth during the winter, when it was too cold to sit outside.

The door was unlocked. He pushed it, the door hinges loudly squeaking, disturbing the silence. Going in, he didn’t notice he was crying until he saw his collection of guitars hanging on the wall, and a tear left his left cheek. He heard Calum gasp behind him, impressed by Michael’s collection. Everything looked normal. Not abandoned for years, just... quiet. As though Michael had only left for a weekend. He brushed his fingers over the counter of his kitchen, over his guitar strings. He couldn’t stop crying. Because he knew he was home. And he knew that if he was home, it meant his journey was over.

He slowly turned around to face Luke, who was standing a few feet behind him, an emotional expression on his face. Michael stepped towards him and took both of his hands. The cold contact of Luke's rings on Michael's palm made him feel alive. And he needed it.  He needed to feel something else than the growing, almost unbearable pain in his chest. He couldn't stop staring at Luke's pretty hands. They were soft, slightly bigger than Michael's. Some nails still had hints of a very old nail polish layer. Michael didn't want to forget those hands, Luke's pretty hands. Calum and Ashton were silently standing by the living room’s door. Everything was quiet. Quiet as death.

Michael looked up to Luke and their eyes met each other. Luke's baby blue eyes sparkled as Michael's drowned into them. Luke was perfect. But it's always the prettiest things, you have to let go of first, Michael thought to himself as the pain in his heart violently beat again, and again.

"Luke, I ... I need to tell you something."

He was in pain and his voice squeaked. He didn't want Luke to see him as a weak person. He didn't want to hurt the only person he had truly loved in this short weird afterlife, despite not knowing him for that long. But Luke deserved the truth.

"I... I'm not... I needed to come home because..."

Luke smiled softly and gently brushed away Michael's fringe with the tip of his fingers.

"Shhhh." Luke shushed. "Calm down. It's okay. You're home now, Michael. Everything is going to be alright."

No it's not, Michael thought. It's fucking not going to be alright. He tried to say something, but he couldn't stop crying. His heart hurt so much. He was so out of breath, Luke worried he might have a panic attack again, and grabbed his shoulders to lead him outside, on his porch, leaving Calum and Ashton in the doorway.

Luke gently sat Michael down on the swing.

"You're going to be ok, we'll find out what happened, Mikey" Luke said, sitting next to him, gently putting a hand on Michael's knee. "We've found your home! It can only get better from now."

The more Luke talked, the more Michael felt bad. He wanted to scream, to hold on Luke forever. He leaned in and held the blonde boy in a tight, desperate hug, his hands grasping Luke's shirt. It probably was their last hug, and the poor boy had no idea. Michael hugged him harder, harder. He wanted to remember. The softness of his curls against Michael's nose. The pace of his heartbeats. He needed to remember.

A familiar melody came back to Michael. He started humming in Luke's neck.

And I chase it down With a shot of truth Dancing through our house With the ghost of you

"Such a pretty voice, rose boy" Luke whispered. "I'll miss it." A slight breeze brushing through the roses broke the silence, the smell of the flowers almost making Michael sick. "But I'll hear it again, on the phone. We'll see each other again, this isn't the end. We'll call each other, right?" Luke grinned. He looked so happy. If you only knew, Michael thought, not answering. How in the world would he find the strength to tell Luke they'd never meet again?

As Ashton and Calum stepped out of the doorway and joined them on the porch, Michael suddenly had an idea.

"Let's have a walk around my neighborhood, you guys. Before you leave." He said, standing up, taking Luke's hand again. He was terrified but he tried not to show it. Luke's presence reassured him, though.

Ashton and Calum followed them, talking about everything and nothing, following Michael and Luke who walked around the pretty streets. Luke’s enthusiasm warmed the fringed boy’s sore heart, as he looked around, squeezing Michael's hand everytime he noticed something.

"Look, Mikey!! A park!! Do you remember that park? It looks nice. Peaceful."

Michael smiled. On the other side of the street, a small fence led to a park, so green it almost seemed unreal, with the distant sound of birds singing in the trees. "I do. I used to play in that park sometimes in the summer. It was nice." Unable to move, his gaze fell on the gate they had almost reached, right after the park entrance. He was terrified. But the pain in his chest was excruciating. He couldn't go on like this any longer. Michael stepped forward and turned right through the tall metallic gate, his eyes focused on what he was looking for.

The others stood still in surprise.

"Uh, Michael? Why are you leading us in... a cemetery?" Calum’s voice raised hesitantly as he noticed the tombstones around them.

Michael didn't turn around and went on, Luke's hand still in his. All he was thinking of what his nightmare, and that morning at the hotel.

"Please follow me. I know what I'm doing."

**********

The flashing lights dazzled Michael’s green eyes, his hands trying to grasp what he could find in front of him. A violent hiss hurt his ears. He wanted to put his hands on them to muffle the sound, but he couldn’t move. He was stuck in this position, forcing himself to look in front of him, all his senses overstimulated. He wanted to scream, but nothing came out. He was terrified.

Suddenly, a loud detonation. And darkness.

Michael opened his eyes, sat up, breathing heavily, sweat over his forehead, screaming his lungs out, his hands grasping the sheets. His chest felt like it was about to explode.

“Michael! Michael what’s going on? Are you okay?”

Michael couldn’t even process Luke’s words and immediatly ran to the bathroom of his hotel room to throw up, drops of sweat still running down his face. He lifted his head and watched his own reflection in the small mirror above the sink. He looked horrible. Dark bags under his eyes, messy, wet hair, drops of sweat running down his forehead. He let out a loud scream, his legs shaking under his own weight, and fell on the bathroom floor, holding his own body.

He knew what happened.

It wasn’t a nightmare. It was simply what had happened. Everything became clear in his mind now.

Michael was dead.

Michael was dead in a car accident.

That was why his chest hurt that much, that was why he was in pain. It was a hint of the shock which injured his body. How could he have forgotten. His nightmare was his own car accident.

He was dead. And somehow, the universe brought him to Luke. Why wasn’t he gone? Why wasn’t he... really dead?

He ignored the sound of Luke’s fists violently banging on the bathroom door. What was he supposed to do? He wanted to go home. Maybe he could find peace there. He stayed on the floor for a while. Suddenly noticing he didn’t hear anything from Luke anymore, he tried to get up, but the door got forced by Ashton’s shoulder, making Michael fall on the ground again.

Luke got in and rushed to him, kneeling down to hold his face. He looked so worried.

“Michael! Oh my god, Michael, are you okay? I heard you scream and I thought... I thought you...”

Luke’s eyes teared up and he held Michael’s face in his hands. Michael felt like he wanted to cry, to scream. But Luke would be devastated if he knew. He had to be strong, until they’d reach Greenfield.

“Don’t worry” Michael sobbed, now he was really crying. “I just had a nightmare again. It’s nothing. Soon they’ll be over, hopefully.”

Luke looked at him, confused, and brushed away his tears. Ashton was still standing there. Michael’s ears were buzzing, and he almost couldn’t hear what Ashton told him.

“Come on, Michael. Let’s get you cleaned up, and let’s leave. I’ll wait for you by the car.”

**********

Michael was looking for something, something to hold on to. He needed to know, he needed proof this was real. Dozens of stranger’s names passed by. Flowers everywhere, dates, death surrounding them. His own feet guided him to the back of the cemetery, following an unknown path. Luke was walking behind him, holding his breath, curious as to why Michael had brought them in such a place. Maybe he was looking for a relative who passed away? Luke stayed silent, looking around, confused, until he bumped into Michael who had suddenly frozen.

“Ouch! What’s going on, Michael?” Luke whined, rubbing his forehead.

He looked up and saw the back of Michael’s head. The boy had seen something and couldn’t move. Luke skirted around his shoulders to see what he was seeing. He gasped loudly.

Michael had stopped in front of a simple, grey, gravestone, standing in silence. No flowers, no fancy decorations. Just a block of stone in a rounded shape, and capital letters graved on them.

“Michael, what does this mean?” Ashton suddenly appeared behind them, confused as to why in the hell they were in a graveyard. His gaze turned to Luke and his confused expression, and Ashton’s hazel eyes suddenly flashed in concern. He followed Michael’s gaze to the name which was graved on the stone they were standing in front of.

MICHAEL GORDON CLIFFORD

Michael stood there, staring at the proof he had been looking for, but not hoping for. A single tear rolled down his cheek. The pain in his chest had faded away, almost faded away. The sight of Luke next to him answered all of his questions.

“You’re... you’re...” Luke muttered, holding back his tears.

“I realized something this morning, Luke.” Michael whispered, taking both of Luke’s hands in his again. The contact made him shiver. He wanted to feel, he wanted to be alive. But he could already feel his body and his sensations got more and more transparent, and dull. “The reason why we met. The reason why I’m in pain. The reason why I’m having nightmares.”

Luke was really crying now. Maybe he already knew what Michael was about to tell him. Either way, he wouldn’t believe it.

“The reason why... I can’t stay by your side.” Michael’s voice broke. It was so, so hard. Luke angrily wiped away his own tears with the back of his hand.

“I don’t understand, Michael. What does this mean? What does this mean...” The blonde boy repeated, his eyes not leaving Michael’s through the tears.

“You remember what I said in the car? About how you meet your soulmate when you die?”

Luke nodded, encouraging him to continue, though he was sobbing uncontrollably.

“That’s what happened to me.”

Luke’s eyes widened.

“All my life, I was only concerned about my success, never about the fact I had never found someone who just... gets me. I got to meet you, Luke, because you’re my soulmate. I firmly believe it. The world sent me to you, as a last chance to meet you. Before we’ll meet again. In another life.”

Luke’s grip tightened on Michael’s fingers, so hard he could’ve broken them.

“I’m dead, Luke. This is my grave. I died in a car accident, last week. That’s why I have these bruises. That’s why I got this tattoo. That’s why I’m in pain. I am dead.”

“N-No” Luke whispered. “You’re lying.”

“I’m sorry. I need to go. I’m so sorry.”

Luke cried silently. Michael bent forward, his forehead touching Luke’s. He let go of Luke’s hands to cup his face, and then gently kissed Luke’s forehead. The whole world was quiet.

“I love you.”

Luke’s blue eyes sparkled through his tears as a response. Michael had enlightened his life. In only a few days, he had learned love, peaking through the loneliness of his life like a shooting star in the night sky. Michael really was his soulmate. But he had to live on, with the memory of him.

“I’ll never be able to forget you” Luke sobbed.

“That’s alright” Michael whispered, brushing his fingers on Luke’s wet cheek. “You don’t have to. I’ll always be by your side. Until we meet again.”

Luke pulled Michael in a hug, the kind of hug he would never forget. Breathing in Michael’s soft smell one last time, the way he felt in his arms, the contact of his skin, his laugh, his voice. He didn’t want to forget. Michael was right. He wouldn’t have to. Michael’s memory would linger with him as long as he was alive.

“Until we meet again” Luke breathed, letting go of Michael. They stared deeply in each other’s eyes one last time. The light in the boy’s green eyes was already fading. Michael turned to Calum and Ashton, who were standing there in absolute shock.

“Thank you. For everything.”

Though Calum looked confused, he smiled widely. Ashton nodded, but his eyes looked like they were thanking him back. For Luke, Michael thought as he saw Ashton’s emotional expression.

The sun shining right on Michael’s face, he suddenly realized his chest didn’t hurt anymore. He sighed deeply, turned around one last time to see Luke’s face, and then walked to the unknown, the image of what he used to be slowly fading away, like butterflies flying to the sky in a light breeze. He wasn’t afraid anymore. A last flash of the color of the sky reminded him of Luke’s eyes. He was in peace.

Luke kneeled in front of the gravestone, his eyes fixed on the point where Michael’s image had slowly disappeared only a few seconds before. He stayed like this for minutes, but it felt like hours. Time stood still. He heard Calum and Ashton moving towards him, each of them putting a hand on his shoulders. They didn’t say anything, until Luke slowly got up and turned around to see his friends, a peaceful smile appearing under his teary, sore eyes.

“Let’s go home.”

#i'm EMO this is the end :((( #i hope you liked it!!! #pls tell me what u think!!!!!! #i was crying most of the time while writing this :') fuck me and my feelings #muke makes me emo tho..... #writing sessions at 3am aren't THAT healthy i have to say #anyway!!!!! #fics #muke clemmings #fluff #home #5sos fic #5sos fanfic #fanfiction #5 seconds of summer #michael clifford #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #calum hood

[natasha-cole]

That’s What Friends Are For Chapter 3: Bandaged Hand

Pairing: Rob Benedict x Reader

Chapter Summary: A night of drinking goes too far, and Reader is trying to separate feelings from the situation.

Word Count: 2905

Warnings: angst, drinking

Catch Up: Chapter 1  Chapter 2

You managed to leave Rob’s room the next morning without being seen. Rob had asked you why you were leaving so early in the morning, confused as to why you seemed to be sneaking around. You explained that you just wanted to get a head start on getting ready for the day. The last thing you wanted to do, especially since he was still a mess over the whole thing, was to let him in on what some of your friends were already saying about the two of you. Usually, it didn’t bother you if people knew how close you and Rob were, but the fact that everyone still thought he was engaged made all of this look bad. You didn’t want to give anyone a reason to think that he was a bad guy.

It was Saturday, and it was a busy day for all of you. You didn’t have much time to check in on Rob at all, no matter how badly you wanted to. Last night had been a little rough for him, and it seemed as if all of this was just getting worse. He had explained how he had wanted to call Julia, try to fix whatever it was between the two of them that had been broken. He was lonely and heartbroken, and you couldn’t stand to see him like this.

You managed to convince him that it wasn’t a good idea. You knew that she was no good for him anymore. You had been fooled into thinking that she was a good person, you had all been fooled. Poor Rob had been fooled, and even when he was sure that something wasn’t right in the relationship, he still stuck around until he had definitive proof that she was unfaithful. You knew that he was obviously weak over her and you feared that he might go back and give her another chance, which would only result in a lot more pain for him.

After the events of the day had ended, you hung out in the green room just before SNS along with everyone else who would be performing. The band sat in a corner, going over the set list and last minute details. You still hadn’t really talked to Rob today, but as you watched him from your seat, you noticed that he seemed to be in a pretty decent mood. He was at least talking and laughing with the guys.

By the time the show was starting, you all made it backstage. You managed to pull Rob aside before they took the stage.

“Hey, I just wanted to check on you,” you said as you led him away from the rest of the group.

“Thank you,” he smiled, “I’m alright. I promise. Today was a lot better.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear it.”

“You ready for this?” He asked, pulling the conversation away from the fact that he still obviously wasn’t okay.

“I am,” you replied, “I’ve always wanted to cover a Swain song.”

“You’ll be great, you always are.”

He gave you another smile as he moved in to hug you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in tightly. You put your arms around his shoulders, returning the embrace.

“Thank you for being there for me,” he said quietly against your ear. You grinned, grateful that you could be of some comfort to him. You expected the hug to end, but as you tried to pull away, his grip on you only tightened. You decided to just stay where you were until he was ready to let go. You glanced around nervously to see if anyone was watching this. You knew immediately that this long hug was only going to add more fuel to the fire. Before you could even focus too much on anyone else, you suddenly felt his lips against your neck. It caught you off-guard and you froze.

It wasn’t like any of the quick kisses he used to give you back before he got into a relationship. Those were usually given to you on your cheek or forehead. Sometimes, there were even times when he’d kiss you right on the mouth. All of those were always platonic and playful. But, right now, he was definitely mouthing at your neck, slowly and deliberately. You were surprised for sure, but you were also very suddenly overcome with a sensation that you had never had for him before. Your stomach flipped and your head buzzed at the way this felt. He began to run a hand up and down your back; and while you were pretty sure you let out an audible gasp, you pushed him away from you. He obliged, pulling back to break contact with you as he looked right into your eyes. You definitely saw how sad he looked, and you wanted to be there for him, but the last thing you needed was for anyone else to see all of this.

He said nothing as he turned from you, just in time for the band to take the stage. He left you standing there, shocked and confused as to what just happened.

The band worked through the set; joined by cast members who all took turns in covering Louden Swain songs. You stood backstage, smiling as you listened and still thinking about what had happened earlier. It was probably nothing, Rob was in a vulnerable place right now and you figured he was confused as well. Mostly, you were thinking about what it was like to have his mouth on you like that. You’d be lying if you said that it wasn’t sort of exciting. Rob was your friend. Your best friend to be exact, and you didn’t like the idea of anything ever happening between the two of you. But, that whole thing definitely threw you off.

You were lost in thought when Ruth finally broke you from your haze.

“It’s your turn Y/N,” she said as she grabbed your arm. You jumped, suddenly coming back to reality.

“What?”

“They’re calling you to the stage.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course,” you replied as you headed for the entrance.

You got on stage and took your place next to Rob, waving and smiling to the audience.

“You gonna sing with us?” Rob asked into the microphone, looking right at you.

“I am,” you replied. “I hope you don’t mind if we sing ‘Bandaged Hand’. It’s my favorite Swain song.”

The crowd cheered, and the band went right into playing as you began to sing. You sang through the song, Rob joining in now and then; it really was your favorite song by them, and you had always wanted to sing it with Rob. This was your first time doing it, and you hoped you could do the song justice.

You had purposely picked a fun, upbeat song to perform with them; and by the time you were halfway through, you were having so much fun, you couldn’t help but notice Rob smiling hard through the whole song. He played guitar as he let you take over singing, grinning at you as you got into the performance.

By the end of the song, you were breathing hard from jumping around the stage so much and laughing. Rob gave you a kiss on the cheek and told the crowd to thank you for singing. They cheered loudly as you left the stage.

After SNS was the subsequent after party. Usually, you’d all hang out in Briana’s room to drink, but this time, everyone wanted to go out instead. You all walked to a nearby bar, and that was the moment when you realized that Rob had obviously started drinking during the concert. He was stumbling slightly as you all walked, talking loudly, and in a much better mood than he had been in for days. Once inside the bar, the drinking didn’t stop. The rest of you were taking it slow, sipping on beers and chatting happily. Rob however, seemed to be going through drinks at record speed, trying to convince everyone to take shots with him. Only a few joined in, mostly leaving Rob to handling it all.

“Is Robbie okay?” Kim asked out loud. You were standing with her, Briana, Ruth, and Samantha; watching Rob and the guys.

“He’s a happy drunk,” Briana said, “I think he’s okay.”

“I mean, he’s drinking a lot,” Kim added, “he’s been drinking since the concert.”

“Yeah, I haven’t seen him drink this much before,” you replied, pursing your lips. You had seen your fair share of drunk Rob, but even tonight had you a little worried. You watched as Matt and Rich stood at the bar with him; both of them holding on to him as if they were trying to hold him up.

Before any of you could delve too much further into the topic, Rich had left Rob at the bar with Matt to come speak to you.

“Hey, someone needs to get Rob out of here,” he said, looking directly at you. “He’s wasted and he’s starting to get emotional.”

“What? Rob doesn’t get sad when he drinks,” Ruth said.

“Well, there are definitely tears now. I don’t know why, but I think he’s just had too much.”

“Why are you looking at me?” You asked, unsure of why you had to be the one to get him home.

“Because he’s asking for you,” Rich replied.

You very suddenly felt everyone’s eyes on you. It shouldn’t be such a surprise really, you were Rob’s best friend, he trusted you and the two of you were close. But, you also knew what everyone was thinking. Briana’s stare seemed to be the worst of it. You couldn’t see her staring at you, but you knew she was, and she was probably judging you.

“Fine,” you mumbled as you followed Rich to the bar.

Once you were close to Rob, you knew right away that he had gone from zero to one hundred way too fast. He could barely stand and his eyes were red and wet.

“Why are you crying?” You asked softly as you moved to put his arm around you. You wrapped your arm around his back, gripping onto his shirt so that you could help him walk.

“You know why,” he slurred.

“Fuck, you really are wasted.”

You waved the guys off as you led Rob from the bar. Once you were outside, which took some time since Rob was no help in actually walking, you propped him against the wall of the building, trying reevaluate the best way to get him back to the hotel. You tried to step back once you were fairly certain that he wouldn’t fall over.

“I’ll call a cab,” you said out loud as you reached for your phone.

“Hey,” Rob said as he watched you, “come here.”

“What?”

“Come here,” he demanded, “will you please just come here?”

He looked so sad, and you knew that the alcohol was only magnifying the situation. You moved back to him so that you were standing just a foot away from him, still fumbling with your phone to find a cab company, no easy feat considering the fact that you were slightly tipsy yourself. Before you could even focus on your screen, Rob grabbed you and yanked you closer to him.

“What-?” You shouted as you tried to keep your balance.

Before you could finish speaking, Rob had his lips on yours. He kissed you; it was sloppy and he immediately went for tongue. You could taste the alcohol in his mouth, and he continued to sway as he tried to stand on his own. Normally, you would push away any man who tried to kiss you like this, but for some reason, you couldn’t push him away. He got brave and turned the two of you so that he could now press you against the wall, nearly falling over as he suddenly didn’t have the support of the wall against his back. You grabbed onto his waist to help keep him upright and he pressed into you as he continued to kiss you. You should have pushed him away, you were sober enough to know that. He was drunk and acting without thinking. Again, the feel of his lips on you had you feeling differently than you had ever felt with him before, even if he was too drunk to know what he was doing.

It’s not that the kiss was amazing by any means; it was sloppy and heated, but it also felt sort of nice that he chose you right now. He could easily have any girl as a drunken, post-breakup hookup; but he was obviously choosing you. It also made you feel better knowing that he wasn’t out there trying to forget about Julia with some stranger that could turn out to be bad news. At the same time, you felt bad that things had even gotten to this point. He was hurting and reacting without thinking. And, you couldn’t help but feel as if you were taking advantage of that right now. When your guilt overcame the fact that this sort of felt nice, you pushed him away from you. You kept a tight grip on him but ended the kiss.

“Rob, you don’t want to do that,” you said.

“That was nice,” he slurred again, “I like kissing you.”

“You’re drunk and you won’t even remember this tomorrow.”

You pulled yourself together and decided to attempt to drag him on the two block walk back to the hotel instead of calling a cab.

“I just want to forget,” he mumbled.

“I know you do. But, this isn’t the way to deal with it.”

You walked in silence for some time; you mostly dragging Rob along best you could. The walk that should have taken just a few minutes took a whole lot longer, and it was fairly late by the time you got Rob to his room finally. You put him in bed as you removed his shoes; placing a bottle of water next to his bed, knowing that he’d need it when he woke up.

“Just call if you need anything,” you told him. You frowned as you looked down at him, your heart breaking when you saw the tears well up in his eyes again. He let out a frustrated sigh, as he attempted to hold back from crying again.

“Will you please just stay with me?” He asked, voice cracking.

“Robbie, that’s not a good idea,” you replied as you brushed a hand across his forehead, “I’m not always going to be around to keep you company.”

“But you are now,” he sniffled.

“I’m going to my own room,” you said firmly, “get some rest, you’re gonna feel like shit when you wake up.”

You started to walk away and he grabbed your hand. You stopped, still feeling that ache in your chest just knowing how hurt he was. You turned back to look at him, torn by the look on his face.

“Please,” he said softly, “I just don’t wanna be alone.”

“Dammit, Rob,” you mumbled. You knew you couldn’t turn him down, not with the way he was looking at you. You wanted to tell him that it wasn’t a good idea for you to stay because your friends were less than impressed. You wanted to tell him that he at least needed to come clean about his breakup, so this would all look less bad for you. But you still couldn’t find it in you to bring up the fact that you were feeling like a horrible person because of what people were thinking about you in all of this. He was a lot worse off, and you never wanted to make this about you. You kicked your shoes off and climbed into the bed next to him, letting him cuddle up next to you.

“I’m sorry I kissed you,” he muttered.

“It’s okay Rob.”

“Was nice though.”

You chuckled, thinking about that kiss now. Before you could say anything else, Rob began to snore, passed out with his arm draped over you. You smiled, feeling your head begin to swim as you realized that you too were still buzzed.

You knew this whole thing needed to be addressed. The way he had kissed your neck before the concert, the fact that he had kissed you outside of the bar… none of that should have happened. You loved Rob, you really did. He was your best friend. No matter how good it felt to have him kiss you, you knew that things had gone too far. The last thing you wanted to do was risk your friendship over the fact that you sort of enjoyed having him kiss you. You wondered if he had done all of that strictly because he was feeling so confused and angry over his breakup. That was probably it, whatever you were feeling now was ridiculous. Friends don’t act this way with each other, and you knew that Rob was only being like this because you just happened to be the one person who was closest to him. You were comforting to him and he trusted you. But, even you knew that, right now, this sort of stuff couldn’t continue to happen. You knew that you couldn’t be the band aid to cover up the wound.

Tag List: @destielschild @sorenmarie87 @smoothdogsgirl @kocswain @culturebay @itsfunnierin-enochian @typicalweirdbookworm @angelsandhuntersgalore @riversong-sam @emoryhemsworth @hunterpuff @camelotandastronauts @laffytaffyhumor @cyrilconnelly @jpadjackles @waywardswain @sirraxa @thewordsmithofhell  @onlyanothersocialcasualty

#that's what friends are for #rob benedict x reader

[rinnnyxr]

In 2020….Have you….

-

been into any abusive kind of relationship?

been to New York?

fractured one of your bones?

got featured in a magazine or any other media platform? tried to pet a wild animal but regretted over it later on?

got bitten by any animal or even a snake?

remained awakened for an entire night and did nothing productive out of it? broken your neighbor’s window while playing with your friends?

done any adventurous sports like sky diving, surfing, or bungee jumping?

talked to someone for more than three hours on the phone, especially when you were the one who called?

been kidnapped by someone?

been embarrassed by your parents in public? thought that you are totally going to die now but got saved at the last moment? suffered a major heartbreak? been called in the principal’s office in your school for doing too much nonsense in class?

been awarded in school or college? done someone’s assignment for money or chocolates?

saved someone’s life by risking yours?

fell asleep in a church because it was too boring out there?

befriend someone just for your own benefits?

had a major crush on one of your seniors in school or college?

been cheated on or dumped by someone?

had or have a friend whose birthday falls on the same date as yours? left your money in your clothes and washed it just like that?

gone for not taking a shower for two consecutive weeks?

sung karaoke with someone and ended up so badly?

gone for camping with your friends?

laughed so hard that tears came rolling down from your eyes? recycled a gift you received from someone by gifting it to someone else?

set a really embarrassing ringtone? seen an animal or human giving birth? gotten stitched somewhere in your body? donated some amount of your money? been the reason for someone’s smile? stayed for two days without brushing your teeth?

fallen from a moderate height?

stolen someone’s stuff?

found a wallet with money in it on the road or somewhere else and you made no effort in returning it?

manipulated someone to get out of serious trouble?

misspelled something and it turned out to be very dirty?

gone for window shopping and ended up buying a lot of stuff? bought a thing that you used never ever? broken a very expensive thing? been slapped by someone in front of your friends or family?

thought of becoming a porn star someday?

witnessed or got trapped in a tornado? caught cheating in exams?

terminated from your job forcefully?

risk someone’s life for your own benefits?

been a friend to someone who belongs to the LGBT community?

met someone who always mispronounces your name?

kicked by someone right on your ass?

got suffered from some major disease?

gone for a one night stand?

got a hickey on your neck?

been thrown into a mud pit by someone?

beaten your sibling so badly in a fight?

tried to kill yourself because of extreme stress?

seen a natural calamity like earthquake or tornado? fallen badly from the stairs?

gone for some kind of major surgery or operation?

bitten your own nails? swum into an ocean? called someone for a sleepover when your parents were not in the town?

eaten raw meat and ended up puking it?

duck tapped your younger sibling on the wall?

asked to do sit-ups as a punishment in your school?

pretended to be drunk when you were actually not?

tried to kill someone all in your mind and imagination? pretended to speak in a language that does not even exist to fool someone? sent a love letter to someone?

faked that you are extremely sick so that you can take a leave from the office?

seen the same movie with two different people/dates?

tried to eat 5 sandwiches at the same time?

come out naked from your bathroom and someone saw you accidentally? treated someone so rudely that they ended up crying out badly? eaten a whole cake out of anger?

hurt yourself by being impulsive over something? felt that you are possessed?

caught by the police for doing something illegal?

been recorded by someone while singing in the shower?

locked yourself out of the car or home?

clicked someone’s picture without their consent?

ridden some animal - like cow or elephant?

made fun of yourself in front of a lot of people to win a bet?

run out of money in the middle of the month? been assaulted by someone in childhood?

petted a dog or a cat? seen someone changing their clothes? made out while watching a movie in a theatre? dated two different people on the same day?

caught by the traffic police for breaking over the speed limit?

painted your room pink and black?

talked to yourself while watching in the mirror? taken someone’s stuff and never returned it back? gotten a jet lag?

succeeded in sneaking out of your house in the middle of the night?

met a dwarf?

tried to attempt a world record but ended up getting failed in it?

tried to run away from your house to never come back again ever?

suffered from a heart attack?

lost someone who was very dear and close to you? seen a dream which turned out to be true later on? gone shopping and ended up buying nothing? cheated on someone for someone else?

been into one-sided love? seen someone dying in front of your eyes and you could do nothing to save them?

kissed a celebrity’s picture?

dreamt about your crush? made a snow angel?

-

I like to consider the idea of getting a PhD. It scares me to make commitments regarding my future. Comparing myself to others is the #1 thing that makes me feel upset. I get really annoying and chatty when I’m scared. I enjoy memorizing things, be it poems, sequences of numbers, or whatever. After it storms, it interests me to drive around and see all the downed trees and damage. I imagine that ordinary things are magical and it makes life more fun. Sometimes I say things in a stupid accent for no reason. I love playing and usually win at trivia games. I am eagerly anticipating receiving something in the mail. I usually feel shitty after scrolling through my Facebook Newsfeed. Sometimes after hearing a song in a movie scene, I gain a whole new appreciation for the song. I don’t like it when rooms have walls that are not all the same color. I hate when there’s a cute guy around and I want him to talk to me but he doesn’t. I enjoy cleaning out and organizing my iTunes. I prefer sociology over psychology. I would describe myself as quite quiet but friendly. I tend to have dreams where I’m intensely angry more often than I have dreams where I am scared. I am terrified to ever have to write a college thesis. Clothes rarely fit me right off the rack. It’s discouraging and annoying. I will defend the things I love TO THE GRAVE. I have played the game Skylanders and it’s absolutely adorable and fun. As cheesy as it sounds, looking into the mirror and saying positive things really helps my self-esteem. It’s easy for my imagination to get going and I spook myself easily. It bothers me a bit when celebrities get to write and publish novels. Bad writing inspires me to write most, because I think, “if people enjoy THAT, they’ll definitely enjoy what I can write.” I really never want to get pregnant. I have tried almond milk, rice milk, and soy milk. Something that bothers me more than when someone says something offensive, is when someone else defends the offensive statement. I never wanted to be a princess when I was little. I adore old houses, especially if they’re “haunted.” I’m terribly embarrassed of my past self. I love the taste of garlic in food, but garlic breath grosses me out so much. I really enjoy old horror movies. I keep on remembering songs I haven’t listened to in years because of Songpop. ^ which is the first Facebook game I have ever enjoyed… Mikhail Baryshnikov is one of my idols. English is not my first language, but usually people can’t tell immediately. I have a secret notebook which no one even knows exists and I would rather die than have anyone read it. My current roommates are the best I’ve had so far. Good posture really attracts me in someone of my preferred gender. ^ as do strong, maintained eyebrows. I can’t really function with an Apple computer, lack of experience with those. I don’t feel emotions the way ”normal” people do. I don’t own a soft wallet, mine is plastic. I tend to date men with power positions when it comes to their jobs. No matter how hard I try, I seem to be unable to whistle. Good manners are quite important to me. I was once very involved in a certain sport. I actually really enjoy cleaning my ears. hahahaha. I refuse to eat ketchup on anything. I often sigh really loudly by accident. I much prefer the colder seasons to summer. When I feel extra fancy, I fishtail my hair. It is incidentally the fanciest thing I can do with it. I am a master at getting along with people when I try, because I am very good at figuring out how they want me to react and what they expect me to say, and if I don’t care about them and can’t be bothered to interact properly, I go into that mode. I refuse to mow the grass, for some reason it terrifies me. I get pretty bad season allergies. I don’t eat pork. My blood type is O positive. I have ghostly pale skin. Singlespeed bikes are my favourite. I have never used shaving cream in my entire life. I never saw any repercussions. I feel most people I have met in my life would do better if they toughened up. I have a bigger problem with people who think that feminism has anything to do with hating or belittling men than with people who don’t identify to the feminist movement. I have struggled with drug use in the past. I have never used a credit card. This year, I will vote for something on a national level. There is absolutely no carpet in my flat. Currently, I have no interest in learning how to drive. The job I want to do after school is rather uncommon. One of my favourite drinks is Kvass. :s :s :s I cook a lot, and enjoy it very much. I am a daddy’s girl, by far. My longest relationship was a long-distance one. One of my favourite bands is Iron Maiden. I am unable to write in print, I actually have to stop and remember not to write in cursive after every letter. When I was a child, I had the ”by myself” syndrome and refused any help from anyone to do whatever. It still hasn’t changed much, haha. My computer tends to overheat quite often. Fiddler on the Roof is my favourite musical. I have an incredibly high alcohol tolerance. My phone is always dead. Indian food is my favourite ethnic cuisine. My mother works in psychology. My father works in the cooking industry. He also works in the music industry. I feel very hot at the moment, and I get anxiety when I’m too hot. I’m pretty picky about things in general. However, I refuse to pick a restaurant when asked. I don’t bite my nails. I have a piece of jewelry representing a flag on my body at all times. I seldom shave my legs, my hair grows very slowly. :P I used to be pretty active in the survey community, and only just recently came back. Only one person in my family has had a serious disease such as cancer. I have no idea how much I weigh. Or how tall I am.

1. i am currently on facebook. 2. i like the band maroon 5. 3. I have hugged some of my best buddies today. 4. I have hugged someone I like today. 5. I think Bonzai waterslides are amazing. 6. i put hair clips in my hair almost everyday. 7. Hubba Bubba gum = yum. 8. I think 5 gum is disgusting. 9. I hate when I take a shower, my hair gets my back all wet. 10. It really hurts when someone hits you with a sock! 11. dachshunds are adorable. 12. I have never played chess before. 13. I don’t really care for instrumental songs. 14. i put my ipod on shuffle, but then i end up skipping half of the songs anyway. 15. i love brother/sister relationships. 16. ^I have one with someone. 17. i’m usually invisible on aim. 18. I feel like I repeat myself on every survey. 19. Today was really fun. 20. I am messaging someone through Facebook at this moment. 21. i hate when people become impatient when you are trying to do something. 22. ^Although I do. 23. All that I wanted to hear from you, something of value, something untrue. 24. People never seem to answer on AIM. 25. My cat always walk in front of my computer screen. 26. My cat is sitting on the desk right now. 27. i don’t like it when people come and watch what i’m doing on my computer. 28. i never publish any of my entries to facebook. 29. ^I don’t understand why you would. 30. I enjoy countdown surveys.