#no but it’s really funny to me especially if he’s civil and pleasant to everyone else but just unapologetically VILE around reigen | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

everafterkeiji · 3 years

Text

Song: Easy to Forget Me by Cimorelli

Pairings: Tobio Kageyama x fem! reader

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: When the king's queen was out of his grasp before he can realize

Warning/Genre: angst, toxic friendship, anxiety attack

Symbols: Italics=flashbacks

A/N: um- im very much hurt

Kageyama pants as he runs, pushing his limit with his eyes scanning the street ahead of him. His chest heavily coming up and down with sweat dripping down his skin. Mind empty but theres a certain feeling in his chest that was urging him to come back to a certain period in his life or a certain someone.

As he passes by a certain store, he suddenly stops. The feeling of his legs as if it they were holding him back, restraining his every move along with a voice lingering in his head like a broken record.

"She wasn't there."

Like a rock thrown to glass, his heart shatters, the sharpness of it scattering around his body making him weak to his knees as he stares at the shop that brought back memories he should've cherished. Maybe he should've gone with you when you asked him, maybe he should've took interest in your stories that had you smiling for days.

Maybe he should've chosen to remember.

"Tobio! Please don't push me away." Y/N begs, as Tobio disregards your words as he locks the door, slamming it in front of you. It was right after the match of Kitagawa, where his teammates claimed him the King, leaving him stranded.

"Please.. I'm here. I'll stay with you, I promise." Y/N says, head leaned on the door as she desperately tries to talk to the boy who've built such high walls a person like her can never reach. Kageyama can hear her pleas through the door but only one scene was repeating in his head-the moment the ball dropped, not even a soul was willing to save it for him.

"Kageyama.." she whispers sliding down with tears in her innocent eyes, scared for the condition of the boy, even more scared of what was bound to happen to their closeness.

The door creaks open slightly, and she was off her feet wiping away her tears as she turns around to see the broken boy clutching his shirt. He collapses into her arms and she gladly takes him, both sat on the ground with her hands running through his dark locks. Tears in each of their eyes, Y/N holding onto him while he questions himself. All the words that slipped through her mouth was nothing but sweet whispers and promises, reassuring him that he was no king.

Just a prince surrounded in a kingdom he didn't deserve.

"T-thank you for yesterday. You're the only one I can..count on." He says through the phone and you immediately smile at his words, surprised he believed in your promise. You let your hand rest on top of your heart, gripping on your shirt feeling that your heart was too big to fit into your body with how your emotions were overwhelming you just because of one boy. You wonder how long it'll take for you to break under him, under the kings command.

"It's nothing, Tobio. I'll be here whenever you need me."

"Kageyama! Good morning!" You say as you gladly bring him his usual choice of milk. He nods to you as a sign of thank you, and you smile at him. You walk with him silently, admiring the pleasant air between you two. It was a coincidence you two entered the same school, or was it really just your instinct and you chose it to protect the boy?

"I heard about this new store. Do you wanna come with me? I've seen photos of it everywhere!" She rambles on yet it fell on deaf ears as Kageyama was only delighted about being back on the gym, able to play his passion. When he turned to her, even if she was talking, his slightest care couldn't be given to her. He'd only nod every once in a while to make it seem like he'd understood.

If your heart knew that he didn't care, maybe then you would've realized.

We're in the same town

But you're nowhere to be found

"She hasn't been around for days. Do you think she'll make it to our game?" Hinata asks as Tanaka hands him another ball. Tanaka sighs as he looks over to the empty bench. It was funny how they were all concerned yet one boy couldn't care less. The second year looks over to Kageyama who spiked the ball perfectly, seeing him cheer at his success.

"Worry less about Y/N, she probably has her own problems. We all know that she could never miss our game, especially when Kageyama is playing." Daichi says, looking over to the younger boy. Daichi can feel how cold the atmosphere was with just a glance. He tries not to interfere with whatever happened between you two but after the match no one saw you again. Yet he sees Kageyama, perfectly back in his mindset and not an ounce of suspense as to why you weren't present.

"Plus we missed her birthday! Can't we buy some gifts for her? She doesn't really seem okay to me." Sugawara say and Nishinoya jumps at the idea agreeing completely.

"Seems like he shouldn't be invited." Tsukishima says, pointing at their other setter. Hinata sighs beside him, before shaking his head, in denial of the tension.

"Let's just go after practice!"

He walks inside the record store, seeing a variety of albums and vinyls. He lets his slim fingers run over the texture of each album, wondering which drew his attention. The atmosphere of the store was enough to leave a weight on his shoulders.

It's you, isn't it?

He eyes a poster on his left, enjoying how the colors were spotlighted by the sunlight that was peeking through the window. All the soft hues, having a dark gradient at the bottom he couldn't help but feel how familiar everything was. He carefully listens to the song that was playing, concentrating on every lyric as if he was trying to find a connection.

This is her world.

He watches how everyone in the store was occupied in conversations. Conversing about their interests, debating about different eras, even singing in different aisles. He can only feel sympathy, alone in her world he didn't bother to acknowledge. He should know by now what music you like, what album you first bought, which band poster was hung on your wall, but when he tried he could only hear murmurs and whispers.

I wish I listened.

Do you ever miss me?

You wonder as you sat in your room, knees to your chest in the far corner, listening to the song playing in your earphones. You stood up, walking to your window and opening it, greeted by the cold air. You let you hands dangle from the window while your eyes landing on the night sky creeping a smile on your face at how comforting it was.

The moon stares down on you, feeling helpless for the girl who thought numbness was the right choice. She couldn't even mask the way her world was slowly loosing color. To her, music would always paint her skies with color. All she can do now is envision the colors but in reality they were all desaturating with every passing day. There's pretty smile set on her lips yet feels like a tug of force knowing it was hard to act civil when her heart lost the battle.

"This place is so cool!" Hinata exclaims, eyes sparkling at the sight of the vivid posters and overall aesthetic and aura of the store. Nishinoya joins him on the excitement. Daichi turn to Kageyama who looked like a lost puppy, eyes wandering everywhere. Sugawara taps Daichis shoulder quite cutely holding up a vinyl in his hands.

"This looks like something she'd like!" He says with a smile and Nishinoya joins the conversation, holding out his own album waving it in the air claiming it was more her type. Asahi laughs at the two while he continues to view the albums that were in front of him.

Kageyama glances at his seniors along with the second years. He sees the genuine care they have for her but why is that he feels empty? Like he was numb to any feeling. He did miss her birthday, not even bothering to greet her, focusing on doing better for the next matches.

Hinata notices the dismay from the boy but his lips form a thin line, knowing exactly why Kageyamas clueless. He wonders about the feeling of neglecting a person that's been by your side for years. Kageyama seemed like he was a pro for such things. He always took notice of how Y/N would look whenever he's decline her offers, the way she walks to class disheartened but when she sees the setter, she instantly lights up at the sight.

Seeing her cry that day was enough for him to keep a distance.

How can he even comfort her? The moment she turned her back to Kageyama, she had a hopeless smile on her lips, tears continuously rolling down her puffy cheeks. He could see the way she collapsed that way. How the queen finally let go of her duties from the king.

Kageyama laid on his bed with earphones in, hands to his chest focused on the melodies. It was ironic how he wanted to badly catch up on what he's lost. He was badly trying to find the trail back to you but he was unfortunate. It seemed like he was the one that changed everyone's destination.

The moment she stepped in the gym, so bewildered at the different personalities they had. Hinata was the first one to approach her, asking her questions about their "friendship." The following months went by and Hinata found comfort in her and so did the rest of the team, favoring her for her endless support, always hearing her cheers at each game. After every match, she'd always encourage the others, being the brightest sun to cast upon the team who was discouraged.

Yet he found this unnecessary?

He bites his lip at his old thought. He hated himself for thinking how useless of a habit that was for you. He believed that Daichi was enough to lift up the spirits of his teammates so the team really didn't need you. It's opposite for the others though. They truly appreciated each of your compliments, each pat on the shoulder or head. Even if you wanted to do the same for him, he'd always walk away before you could even reach him. Hinata and Yamaguchi would always try to make you forget how harsh the boy was.

He lets his eyes close for a while. For a second, he was at peace but then words started resurfacing.

"How could you just walk away?"

He tries to ignore the tone of her voice, trying to drown it out by increasing the volume, but his heart was panicking at the memory. Even if he tightly shuts his eyes, all he can imagine was the sight of the last time he saw her. He wanted to sit up, to avoid the anxiousness that was crawling under his skin, but his back remained on the bed, struggling to escape the encounter.

"Is it that easy to forget me?"

Y/N.

(TW! Anxiety attack. Do not proceed if this makes you uncomfortable)

He calls out to her like a whisper, clutching his pillow as he stares wide eyed at the ceiling. He feels the room swirl around him, the walls caving on him as every insult and memory came to him. He sits up and desperately tries to walk but he collapses on the floor, hands quickly reaching the hem of his shirt bringing it over his shoulders. Panting incredibly with his sweat covering his forehead as he tried to calm himself down but each second he was reminded of a moment in his life he could never change.

"Hey..Kageyama it's okay." Y/N tries to reach for his shoulder but he harshly grabs a hold of her hand, gripping it tightly in his as he stares her down with his dark eyes, locking on her terrified ones.

"We fucking lost! To Aoba! To Oikawa! How can you act like this when we lost?!" Kageyama shouts at her and she winces at the volume but she lets her other hand rest on top of his, trying to make sure her eye contact reminded him that everything was going to be okay.

"Tobio- Karasuno will come back and win again.. You have to trust that everything isn't set in stone. Failure-"

"FAILURE? I don't have any fucking time for more failures Y/N! You simply don't know what that feels cause all you've been doing is tagging along and being useless." He spat and you felt your smile crumble at his words. He removes your hands from his as he frustratedly runs his hands to his hair, feeling as if pins went through his hands, blaming it for their loss.

"Kageyama..you don't m-mean that. Stop. I know you're angry-"

"I'm disappointed Y/N for fucks sake! I could've done better! We could've won if I didn't slip up. Stop acting like you can fucking solve everything and leave!" She takes a step forward to him as he extends out a hand, blocking her from moving any further. The gesture completely draining the life out of her, her heart growing more and more in her chest, the admiration for the boy trying to erase his negativity.

"K-kageyama-"

"Fuck Y/N! Can't I have a day without you talking to me? Or even being around me? I don't need you. The team doesn't need you. No one else does.. so please just leave already."

He stares at her for a while before rushing off, annoyance and pride feeding his heart and mind. She sees him getting more and more distant as she lets her last smile fall on her lips. All the love and joy was erased from her heart, feeling how shallow and dark the atmosphere was inside it. It began to feel like every heartbeat was slowing down as her tears painted her a trail as she walked. The tears continuously flooded her cheeks as every function of her body was weakening with every action.

She feels the tension that there was in the bus, while she was stuck in the corner, silent.

Silent but the Kings poison consumed her.

Happy birthday to me then. She thinks bitterly.

She looks at the scenery beside her, appealing dull. She allows her heart to cry at the sharp pieces that went through it, as if it was like a balloon being popped or like the light from a fire was blown out.

There was a certain part of her that died that day. She wonders if it was her entirely, or just her ability to feel anything apart from the harsh reality. It was the mere feeling of hearing him say the exact opposite of the words you were badly used to. As the person who he counted on even back at Kitagawa, you should've believed it. But every word he threw were all words that should've never been brought to light. You were back to zero to say the least, back at the darkest corner of your mind. Touching in with your negative emotions drowning you with every replay of of his words.

Then she glances at him.

She lets her eyes linger on him for the last time before she sighs, hands forming a ball, nails digging through her skin.

I don't know you anymore.

Kageyama opens his eyes slowly, hands reaching for his phone as he dials a forgotten number. He was panting furiously, desperate to hear the sound of your voice he was late to miss. He dreaded the silence the surrounded him, he wished the silence would be killed by your voice, assuring him that all was forgiven and you were ready to come back to him so he can apologize for everything he's done.

On the other end of the line, you sighed sadly. You the see way your phone lit up the dark room, seeing a name you've yet to see in months. You carefully place the phone in your hands, trying to find the feeling in your chest when he was around. The feeling of excitement to see or hear him has vanished yet you wished that you had the ability to feel for him again.

Love has faded, no evidence, not even a trace.

So you put the phone down, done waiting to be found.

Kageyama hears the way the sound of the phone stopped, seeing his wallpaper flash in front of him. He lets the tears fall from his eyes as he calls out to you one more time, even if you broke your promise, still holding on to it but there wasn't a chance for him anymore.

And the queen left the kingdom, leaving the king to rule by himself.

#kegayama tobio #haikyu x reader #haikyuu sugawara #hinata shouyou #hinata x reader #nishinoya x reader #sugawara x y/n #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima hcs #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu!!#kageyama x reader #yamaguchi fluff #haikyuu yamaguchi #haikyuu asahi #tobio x you #daichi sawamura x reader

157 notes · View notes

thadelightfulone · 3 years

Text

All I Want... 25 Days of Christmas Challenge, Day 5

November 21st - Part 2

Erik’s tablet chimed as he finished up the dishes. He set aside the leftovers for later and went to see what DeeDee had to say.

He roared with laughter at how she ended the email. Why was she so stuck on finding out if he found the love he described? Her curiosity tickled him and now he had to decide how to navigate this conversation away from that kind of talk.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk about the non-existent once-in-a-lifetime kind of love that he wanted. But how do you explain to someone how you never felt you deserved it, so you never went looking for it? And therefore, you don’t have it.

Erik sighed and reached for something stronger than water to drink.

He took the tablet, the bottle and glass into the living room. He took a seat on the couch and cracked his knuckles and began to write his response for the Curious DeeDee. Erik shook his head and laughed again.

Erik hoped this would be enough to get DeeDee away from asking again, but something told him it wasn’t over.

---

DeeDee had devoured half of the pizza and the bottle of wine. She went to her room to change out of her cleaning clothes into her favorite hoodie and a pair of yoga pants.

Her laptop went off when she returned from the back, and DeeDee jumped onto her couch in excitement. She couldn’t wait to find out that he found his true life long love.

If she couldn’t find it for herself, there was no reason for her to not want that for everyone else. Live vicariously through her new friend, Erik. Wait, could she consider him a friend? She scrunched her face at that rude thought and opened his email.

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Hi Dee Dee,

I know you know I meant science, but I will answer one of those questions to quell your curiosity. I, also, commend you for pursuing your doctorate, and in advanced chemistry, no less.

So, it’s kind of a funny story, but I never meant to leave it in there.

Fun fact about the note, it is much older than you think. I was a civil engineering major during undergrad, when I originally wrote that note and left it in the book.

It happened when I was returning all my checked out books from the library. I was getting ready to move and needed to get them all in to avoid any replacement fees that would have prevented the conferral of my doctoral degree. So, I turned all of those books in without checking them. Which was definitely out of character for me. Especially since I lived by all my written notes for both class and research.

I discovered it was missing when I went to look for it after the move. I knew exactly where it was, but I knew I wouldn’t be going back to get it. So, it was just out there. Besides, I knew what it said by heart, so it was fine.

I will tell you I never expected to be discussing it years later though. It has been a very pleasant surprise.

Thank you,

“Of course, he would avoid the damn question.” She huffed out and poured another glass. It should not be that hard to answer, either he found it or is still in search of it. DeeDee’s hand stilled as she brought it to her lips. Nope, not going there tonight. She took a long drink of her wine.

She set the glass down, drew up her legs and crossed them before settling the computer on her lap. In a flurry, DeeDee’s fingers danced across her keyboard as she wrote her response. The alcohol heated her up to match her current mood.

---

Erik was chilling, in a half-assed attempt to watch the movie playing on TV. He had turned the volume down because the woman’s high pitched tone was grating on his nerves. He set the whiskey down on his coffee table and leaned back with his feet propped up and closed his eyes.

The easily recognizable email alert stirred him. Oh, she had time. It had only been about 20 minutes since he sent the last email. He sat up and opened up the email.

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Mr. Erik,

So, you really aren’t going to answer that other question? Ok, that’s fine. I’ll let it slide for now.

Thank you for that. I have always wanted to work in the science field and I found toxicology while I was working on my Bachelors. I enjoy it and definitely appreciate having Dr. O as my mentor.

That is an interesting story. The one time you lost control and you left something like the note behind. Well, I guess it is just my luck that I found it and decided to look for you, huh? Oh, and you’re welcome.

What do you do now? I know you aren’t working in a lab or researching much anymore.

I read a little bit about you but I don’t know much about the work that the Wakandan Outreach Centers do. I would love to hear about it.

DeeDee

“That’s right. Quis, did say she was one of his students.” Then why was he worried about the person being a stalker. Erik set the tablet down and reached for his cell to text him.

Erik: Quis, why were you worried about DeeDee?

Quis: What?

Erik: About stalker potential?

Quis: Man, I didn’t even know it was her until she came and showed me a picture.

Erik: What picture?

Quis: Our Grad Student of the Year picture from the front of the Southern Digest.

Erik nodded his head, “So, Miss DeeDee knows what I look like. Or what I looked like.”

Quis: Everything good, man.

Erik: Yeah, yeah. Just wanted a little background, can’t be too sure of people asking for help these days.

Quis: DeeDee could never stoop to Karina’s level. She’s safe.

“The hell, she is.” Erik picked up his glass and took a sip. “This woman is becoming more dangerous, as we speak.”

Quis: So, I take it that you can be of use to her?

Erik: Uh yeah, she is very sharp.

Quis: You have no idea.

Erik: Thanks again. Oh, and I got the email, so I’m making plans now.

Quis: Great. Later, man.

“If Marquis vouched for her, then I have nothing to worry about.”

Erik dropped his phone back onto the couch and picked up the tablet.

“Here goes nothing.”

---

DeeDee was on Spotify. She picked a list at random and let the music take her away. She was slowly bodyrolling to Rome Flynn’s ‘Keep Me In Mind’ with a refreshed glass in hand, when her phone blinked. She walked over to it and saw that Erik had sent another email. She took a sip and picked up her phone to open his reply.

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

DeeDee,

How did I go from Erik to Mister?

I guess if you get to know me better than maybe you would find out the answer to your question.

But you are right. I tend to have a tight rein on things, it has always been that way. So, when I lost the note, I was irritated before I realized it wasn’t going to matter in the long run. But it appears to have landed in exceptional hands. *winks*

Well, I am in the family business. My family started the Wakandan Outreach Centers. The first one was opened up here in Oakland. I am the Director of Operations for it and all the Centers on the West Coast.

My first love will always be science. So, although, I may not be active in the field according to your definition. I still use everything I learned and conduct research with my cousins on a regular basis.

Since you know so much about me. Tell me something about DeeDee. Like how much longer do you have to complete your doctorate?

Mr. Erik

“Does he think that wink is gonna work on me?” DeeDee hid her smile behind the glass. “Damnit.”

She locked up the phone and walked back to her couch. DeeDee traded devices and picked up her laptop to reply to Erik.

“You don’t get to wink at me and then wash over the topic again.”

DeeDee pressed down hard on each key as she typed. She admired the fact that his family was close enough to work together on something as big as the successful operation of multiple Outreach Centers across the U.S. But she would not rest until he answered her.

“You aren’t cute, Mr. Erik.” She glanced over to the notebook, where the newspaper clipping of him and Dr. O was folded up inside. She recalled some dimples and a bright smile. He definitely towered over her 5’4 frame. He stood at least 2-3 inches taller than Dr. O, and she had to look up at him all the time. “Yeah, you not that cute.”

She clapped her hands and hit the ‘send’ button. Her phone went off. She saw Beverly sent something in the group chat.

Bev: Dinner and the club, tonight?

Phyll: You know I’m down.

DeeDee: No thanks. I’m covered for the rest of the year.

Bev: Come on, DeeDee.

DeeDee: Phyll, don’t you have work?

Phyll: Don’t try to change the subject, Dee.

Bev: You ain’t doing nothing important. It’s not like you have something to study for anymore.

DeeDee looked at her computer. “Come on, Erik. Give me a reason to stay home tonight.”

---

Erik just brought the glass to his lips when the tablet alerted him to another email. So, they were really doing this tonight? Back and forth emails in real time. He doesn’t even remember the last time, he looked forward to hearing from someone. It had been a while since someone had his attention like that. And after a few simple emails, he found that DeeDee squirmed her way into that space.

“What’s up Miss DeeDee?” He opened the email, “Ready to share?”

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Mister Erik,

*pouts* Fine. I don’t know why you can’t just answer the question now, but ok.

That is wonderful. Sounds like the family business is treating you well. And you are enjoying what you do. That is all I want from my career. I want to do research and teach others. It’s a growing field so if we can get more men and women of color into STEM careers, I am here for it.

Something about me -- I’m an only child and a legacy student. Both of my parents attended Southern. In fact, it’s where they met all those years ago. And I like to read...like I can read anything and get lost in someone else’s world for hours.

But this is hopefully my final semester, I am preparing to defend my dissertation next month. Wish me luck!

DeeDee

“Her parents met at Southern?” Erik put the tablet down and walked over to his fireplace. He picked up the center picture from the mantle and closed his eyes briefly. Two people were standing together in front of a large building. He rubbed his fingers over the top of the image of his parents. It read John B. Cade, it was the library at Southern University. Where his parents met and fell in love.

Erik took a deep breath and put the picture back up. He stood there and looked at the tablet.

“Is it possible that she could be?” He shook his head before he went down that road. The image of the last woman he thought could be his one and only flashed across his mind. He groaned out. Erik walked over to the couch and grabbed the tablet. “Only one way to find out.”

Taglist: @teakturn @ghostfacekill-monger @shaekingshitup @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @woahitslucyylu @ladymac82 @bugngiz @eyeknowmywrites @ajspencer1892 @arafatih @issimplyaamazinggg @tchallasbabymama

#25 days of christmas challenge #erik killmonger x oc #black panther fanfiction #bp christmas #all i want #thadelightfulone

68 notes · View notes

st-just · 3 years

Text

Semi-coherent thoughts on Oathbringer

So, overall probably the most even of the series so far, I’d say? Not to say I didn’t like it – I really, really loved the finale, and there were plenty of great lines, but my god were there a lot of pages spent on nothing happening (honestly it kind of reminded me of the latter volumes of ASOIF, in that sense) – then again, I suppose that is kind of just the nature of these 1000+ page fantasy epics. There were some setting reveals that really were fascinating, and legitimately a bit surprising. Going to have to take a break from the series until the friend I got Rhythm of War for is done so I can borrow it, though I suppose that’s no huge loss compared to the however many years everyone else had to wait in between them.

So in terms of pacing it’s...bad. Or, well, that’s probably a bit unfair. There’s absolutely plenty of fat to cute, but again I do think that might just come with the territory of committing to like a dozen POVs across a tree’s worth of paper (though there were absolutely like 100+ page stretches where I’m not actually sure the plot meaningfully progressed). That said, honestly the main pacing issue isn’t so much the bloat as, like – okay, Dalinar’s arc was a pretty consistent throughline, but for Kalidan and Shallan it kind of felt like there was one whole story in Urithiru, and then from the mission to Kholinar and the journey through the Cognitive Realm felt like its own separate novel? I mean, not sure if that makes any sense, but it really did kind of feel like there was a whole additional first act of table and stakes setting once they arrived in the city.

Though, to argue in favor of bloat for a moment – I was chatting with @lifeattomsdiner bit back about The City We Became, and they mentioned that the size of the cast meant that you don’t actually really get to know any of the protagonists that well on their own. And I suppose that is the advantage of the 1200-page-per-volume epic cycle – even with characters you only really meet in interludes like Szeth, Vargo and Venli (incidentally three of my favorites), you spend enough pages inside of their head that you do really get to see what makes them tick and learn to love/hate them. Speaking of – props to Sanderson as an author, really – it’s vaguely astounding that he manages to keep track of that many internal monologues and actually make them seem distinct from each other.

Breaking things down by character a bit more – this book really did actually enjoy/get invested in Dalinar way more than either of the previous two, which again I’m told is more or less the expected reaction. Given the amount of tumblr brain poison I’m voluntarily exposed myself to, it’s honestly more than a bit of a nice change to see a character on a redemption arc who is actually unambiguously in need of redemption. Because holy shit, pulled, like, exactly two punches in terms of making the guy as genuinely loathsome as possible before he starts breaking. And, well, obviously he was on a redemption arc, but there was a bit near the end there where I really did think that the book was going to cut to black on an ‘end of Act 2, maximum darkness before dawn’ moment with, like, all the Skybreakers and him kneeling before Odium as the city fell. But I suppose that would be a bit much of a cliffhanger for a series with installments this weighty.

This was pretty clearly Shallan’s ‘getting over my personal bullshit’ book, like WoR was for Kaladin and WoK was for Dalinar, though spicing things up with increasingly severe DID as the book went on did make things more interesting at least. Also, I have no idea if this is actually true, but according to the friend who pestered me into reading these when someone asked Sanderson if he’d intentionally written her as bi he just kind of shrugged and said ‘sure, why not,’ which is fun. It was more than a bit, I don’t know, forced?, to have Wit just wander in from stage left and give her a desperately needed therapy session while she was in the middle of a breakdown and propel her development for most of the rest of the book, but on the other hand she’s pretty easily the main POV I’m most invested in by now, and the live triangle the text repeatedly threatened me with never actually became a thing, so I can’t really complain too much. Honestly super curious about the Ghostbloods and what they want out of her given, well, for a shadowy murderous conspiracy, everything they’ve wanted out of her so far has been pretty much entirely benign. Like, of the three major shadowy murderous conspiracies they’re easily the least problematic for the future of humanity at the moment. She should just commit and join for real imo.

As always, Kaladin’s POV is mostly good because it means we get more Syl, who is the single best character in the entire story I’ve decided. But also, I really quite liked his whole sojourn with the newly freed Parshmen and dawning realization that ‘wait these people are basically entirely right’. Also, the delicious delicious angst of spending however many dozens of pages getting to know them and then the wall guard and then the two groups killing each other in a confused melee while he has a mental breakdown. Easily best moment in the book (but then I’m a miserable person).

Adolin is honestly significantly more entertaining to follow than I really expected, though I’m still not like especially invested in him as a character. His relationship with his tailor was quite charming, though, as was the fact that he cares enough about fashion that he learned to sew. Honestly I was rather expecting/slightly dreading his main arc this book to be, like, inadequacy or insecurity over being almost literally the only member of his family that’s not a Radiant, so it’s kind of a pleasant surprise that he seems to have just accepted that (too well-adjust, I guess?). It is however extremely funny that the fact he just straight-up murdered one of the kingdom’s most important aristocrats and the major antagonist of the first two books seems to have resulted in absolutely zero consequences of any kind for him.

In terms of minor characters, the one I’m most invested in by a pretty substantial margin at this point is Venli, as she’s getting a front row seat to all the most interesting bits of the setting, ‘cultist growing increasingly disillusioned about return of ancient and terrible eldritch god’ is a really entertaining character arc just in principle, and because as of the end of the book she represents the morally objectively correct perspective and political line I’ve decided and will fight people about. Curious what sort of superpowers she’ll get. (Vargo and Szeth are still both great though, too).

The Unmade are really fun as a worldbuilding conceit/excuse for weird fucked up monsters. And it really is kind of funny that at least a third of the God of Evil’s nine generals/children/favoured beasts are, like, at conflicted or ambivalent about the whole ‘exterminate humanity and remake the world as a monument to my glory’ thing.

Really, on an extremely shallow and entirely aesthetic level, between the evil red crystal/lightning aesthetic, the remote mountain fortress as a stronghold of the heroes in the face of the coming apocalypse, tears into the realm of spirits, the quirky evil minibosses each handling corrupting/conquering a given center of civilization, etc, the whole thing kind of reminded me of Dragon Age Inquisition. Which reminded me of how disappointing the story to that game was, which made me like the book more by comparison, but anyway. Yeah, good book.

#books #oathbringer #stormlight archive #cosmere #brandon sanderson #in this essay I will #book review

31 notes · View notes

calumbringbackthewatermelonshirt · 4 years

Text

Why You? (C.H.)

a/n: ENEMIES TO LOVERS bby aww yeah its here. this is only the first part, there will be a part two i swear!! (Maybe even part three idk). also, disclaimer: I really, really lover the name gemma!! I think its super pretty!

There were two things in this world that Gemma was certain of. One, that her parents had really fucked her over by naming her Gemma. And two, Ashton Irwin had terrible taste in friends.

Well, friend.

Calum Hood. The bane of Gemma’s existence. Somehow, when he walked into the room, every rational thought she ever had left. They replaced themselves with the need to make passive-aggressive comments.

Now, Gemma prided herself on the fact that she was very much not a bitch. Well, as much as possible, she wasn’t. But it was hard to not hate this man. His irritating smirks, the way he smoked, even how he always called her Germ (Gemma, Gem, Germ. Real clever, Cal).

But what ticked her off the most was how he always barged in unannounced. To everything.

This was especially inconvenient now. You know, since Gemma was half drunk and sobbing her eyes out on Ashton’s couch.

“I don’t get it, you know?” It had been a tough day at work. It was always a tough day at work. Gemma watched as her tears plunked into her wine glass, a frown reflected back to her on the maroon surface. “I’m just plain better than him. So why am I always last for promotions?”

“It’s probably the fact you think you’re better than everyone.” Oh, great. If there was one thing this night was missing, it was that ever-present nail on a chalkboard voice.

There were several different types of drunks, as far as Gemma was concerned. Weepy, fun, angry, needy, philosophical, and blackout. Normally, Gemma was a very fun drunk, the life of the party. But she was about to turn into the Incredible Hulk of drunks.

“Cal, what’s up?” Ashton jumped off the couch, a smile on his face and a hand outstretched to greet his friend.

“Was in the neighborhood. Figured I’d stop by and see if you wanted to hang.” Cal shot daggers at Gemma then, crossing his arms. “Didn’t know you had company.”

He practically spat out the word.

“Whatever, bitch boy. I was leaving anyway.” Gemma threw the blanket off of her, using more force than necessary and began snatching up her things. She hated acting like this in front of Ashton, but if Gemma didn’t stomp her feet to release anger, well, there was a chance Cal wouldn’t be able to have kids in the future.

“Gem, wait. You’re drunk.” Ashton caught her arm, concern written all over his face. Gemma watched him as he kept glancing over at his keys on the kitchen counter. His concern wasn’t her problem, though.

“I already called for an Uber. It’ll be here in five.” Gemma made another move for the front door, only to find Ashton’s hand still on her arm, a tight vice grip.

“At least wait inside where you’ll be warm.” She almost said yes. It was right on the tip of her tongue, waiting to spring into the world and agree. And then.

“Nah, let the drunk wait out in the cold. Maybe she’ll sober up a bit, eh?” Calum fucking Hood. The door was slamming shut behind her before Ashton could even blink.

Gemma could see her breath in the desert air. That’s what kept her from screaming into the night sky. Well, that and basic social constructs. But Gemma kept it in. Each time a puff released out into the night sky, she felt a little more tension leave her shoulders. Yeah, she still wanted to feel her hands around Calum’s neck. And yeah, she still wasn't promoted. But at least there was the cold.

“Why do you two hate each other?” Ashton stood at his door with his eyes closed and forehead resting on the frame.

“I have no idea what you’re referring to.” Cal was rummaging through Ash’s fridge, looking for something to drink out of boredom.

“I’m serious. Why? Why are you two constantly at each other’s throats?” Ashton spun, rubbing his hand roughly over his face. There was always this tension between the two of his friends, and it was torture for Ashton. Every party playing the negotiator, every dinner he was the peacekeeper. Hell, he practically had to put them in a time out the last time they went to the bar together. It wasn’t like he could just not invite them to things. Gemma and Calum were two of his closest friends, and he wanted them at important things. “I mean, on paper, you two should be best friends.”

Cal spat out the kombucha he had found in the depths of the fridge. “What the fuck?”

Calum and Gemma had nothing in common. Nothing. Cal was cool, confident. He was a normal fucking human being.

Gemma Rossi was out of her mind. She was a control freak, and barely tolerable even at her best. Everything that came out her mouth was both petty and passive aggressive.

“First off, I am nothing like that psychopath. Second, what the fuck?” Cal’s voice rose more and more with the second what the fuck. This time it was his turn to slam things, the kombucha splashing out onto the counter as it made contact with the top of the kitchen island.

“I’m serious. You’re both funny and cool. And know-it-alls.” Ashton was starting to see this. See everything. Calum and Gemma paired perfectly together. They had enough similarities to get along, but plenty of differences to still have stuff to talk about. This was maybe brilliant.

“You’re out of your mind.” Cal rolled his eyes, hard. The last time he had a full length conversation with Gemma, she told him he was drinking beer wrong. As if that was even a thing.

Cal was tired of this bullshit spiel Ash was going on. It was hard enough having to interact with her almost daily. He didn’t need Ashton comparing him to her now. It wasn’t that Cal didn’t want to like her. In fact, he tried to see the best in people even at their worst. But the way Gemma was so full of herself, so sure she knew everything. God, it set fire to something deep within his soul.

When he told Ashton as much, Cal did not enjoy his response.

“That’s called being horny, mate.” Ash let loose a giggle, rubbing his hands together. The grin stayed on his face. “And that whole sure of herself thing? Confidence.”

Cal just grumbled and swallowed the rest of his kombucha in lieu of a response. Truth was he didn’t have one. It was hard enough trying to convince himself to be civil with her, much less try and see her as a likable person.

Coffee was a safe space for Gemma. Caffeine had never really had an effect on her, but it was comforting. She didn’t care hot or cold, as long as the coffee was strong.

So when none other than one Calum Hood sauntered his way into her favorite shop next to the recording studio, she deflated, to say the least.

All she wanted was one thing. One thing unmarred by the smug jerk that was Calum Hood. She brought her phone to her face and her coffee to her lips, trying to hide as much as her face as possible as she attempted to escape from the shop without speaking to him. Well, walked dignified, not escaped. She wasn’t afraid of speaking to him, of course. She would merely prefer not to.

“Hello, Gemma.” Ah, there it was. He was leaning with one shoulder on the wall, waiting in the queue. It would have been kind of hot, had it been anyone else. Well, it was still kind of hot. But Gemma would never admit that, not even to herself. Feelings for Calum were like bathing in mud. Disgusting on principle, no matter how good it might feel.

“Hey, Calum.” She forced a smile onto her face, but it greatly resembled the smile of the Mona Lisa. Practically non-existent. So much for escaping unnoticed. “I have some papers for you to sign when we get back to the studio.”

“Ah, look at the little lawyer, ever the professional.” Cal smirked at her, his arms still crossed as he stepped up to the counter to order his drink. “Since you did say ‘we,’ I’m assuming you want me to walk back to the studio with you. Now, while normally I find desperation unattractive, I’d love to accompany you back to the studio. If you’ll so kindly wait as I get my beverage.”

Gemma had to find a new job. When she signed up to be a legal representative for bands, she thought it would be exciting. Meeting new people, traveling the world. She didn’t know how much of a pain in the ass said bands would be. Maybe at her next job she’d get respect. She could see it now, her own little fantasy keeping her sane as she stood next to her least favorite person in the coffee shop. She didn’t feel inclined to leave the fantasy, that is until Calum started snapping his fingers right under her nose.

“What.” Her voice was flat. Gemma had recently come upon the decision that no emotion was probably better than anger her voice, so she kept it neutral.

“I was just asking you what you got.” Gemma looked at him with a blank stare. Got? Got what? She certainly didn’t have anything for him, if that was what he meant.

Calum must have seen the confusion on her face, judging on how hard he rolled his eyes. “To drink.”

“Oh. Just a cold brew dark roast.” Gemma started down at her shoes, a small smile playing upon her lips. Who was this man next to her, asking downright civil questions? If it had been anyone else, she could have mistaken it for some twisted form of casual, pleasant conversation. She glanced up at Calum again to make sure that it was, in fact, Calum Hood standing next to her and not some reverse-doppelgänger that was kind instead of evil.

Then Calum snorted. “Guess that explains why you’re so bitter all the time. The coffee is a reflection of your soul.”

Ah. There it was.

---

Calum didn’t know why he said it. They had been having a decent conversation. He had even thought to himself how nice it was to have a talk with her that didn’t include fighting. So why had he gone and ruined it? He had never been the self sabotaging type, even though there was nothing to sabotage. He didn’t want there to be anything to sabotage, either.

But when Gemma had smiled at him, well, at something he said… It was kind of nice. That’s why he said that. She was about to say something, Cal could just tell. But he turned away from her, going to retrieve his coffee instead. It was hard enough watching her smile and charm the pants off of their bosses every day. He didn’t need her fake attitude with him as well. Although, if there was one person Gemma was never fake with, it was most definitely Cal. She had been up front with her dislike of him right from the start. And she never tried to hide it either.

Still, as she followed him out of the coffee shop with several exasperated sighs, he couldn’t help but wonder about what it was like for her to smile at him and mean it. He shook his head quickly. It was probably awful. He would never enjoy her smiling at him. It’d be weird… and gross.

The studio was at most a four minute walk, but god, did it feel like an eternity. So much awkward silence ensued, Cal almost wished they were screaming at each other. Which, she was probably close to doing.

“Listen, darling, if you want me, you can just say so.” Calum figured it was a good enough ice breaker. Gemma could yell and rant all she wanted, but Cal just wanted her to get it over with before they got to the studio. The studio was his sacred space.

“All I want from you is silence. And to be left alone, but I’ll settle for silence at the moment.” Gemma was clutching her coffee like her life depended on it. Her Knuckles were practically white, and Calum could swear that there was a vein bulging in her forehead, just like the cartoons.

“Well, your wish is my command, dollface.” Calum mock-bowed and could hear her practically growling. The smirk that played upon his face was just reflex at this point. Making her angry was so easy these days. He bowed again as he held the door for her when they got to the studio. Just to rub it in.

---

“I’m done with him. Ashton, if I never see him again, it’ll be too soon, I’m telling you.” Gemma dropped her head into her hands and sighed. What was the point of life really? “In fact, I might have to strangle him.”

“I’d really prefer if you didn’t. We kind of need him for the band.” Ashton leaned on the counter adjacent to Gemma, staring hard at her. His brow was furrowed, as if he was trying to make a tough decision. About what, Gemma had no clue. “We should go get drinks tonight.”

“Um, no? You’re literally a recovering alcoholic. There’s not a chance in Hell I’m putting you in that situation, especially when you’ve come so far.” Gemma picked her head up, studying every inch of Ashton’s face. She could not have been more proud of him, each day her heart swelling more with pride and love in his progress. She would never, ever let herself even think of putting him in a situation that could harm him. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ashton chuckled, twisting a ring on his index finger. “Better than ever, actually. I was thinking we could just go to a restaurant, actually.”

“Oh. Well in that case. Sure.”

Thirty-eight minutes. That’s how long Calum had been sitting alone at the bar of some poorly-lit restaurant waiting for Ashton, without so much as even a text. Ashton had a lot of great qualities, but being reliable wasn’t one of them.

Minute thirty-nine was when he noticed her. Gemma.

She, too, was sitting alone at the bar, just a few seats down. Calum was guessing that she hadn’t noticed him yet, since she hadn’t fled the bar like a trapped animal.

She was furiously typing on her phone, a petulant frown upon her lips. Her dark hair was pulled up into a ponytail, but there were a few little strands falling out around her face that did nothing to conceal the alcohol induced flush on her cheeks.

Cal was wondering why she was here. That is, up until a large man came up and put his arm around her shoulders, leaning in until his lips were practically on her face to speak to her.

Cal almost looked away. He almost left, almost minded his own business.

Until he saw the look of disgust on Gemma’s face. And the way she tried so hard to get his arm off of her.

Maybe he hated Gemma, but she didn’t deserve this. No one did.

“I don’t see a boyfriend anywhere.” God, Calum could smell the stale beer on his breath from here. He didn’t know who this guy was but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Gemma wanted nothing to do with him.

“How bout now?” As the drunk straightened, Cal sized him up. While the man probably had about fifty pounds on him, Cal had a solid two inches on the drunk.

But the drunk just grumbled something about ‘whore’ and ‘not worth it’ and waddled away.

Gemma, for the most part just looked defeated. Slightly surprised, but again, mostly defeated.

“Hello Calum.” It came out with a heavy sigh, but Cal still took the seat next to her.

“Aw, hello to you too babe.” The bartender slid Cal’s half finished drink back down to him, and Cal took a long sip. “Don’t look so happy to see me.”

Gemma snorted. Like actually snorted, as in the sound a pig makes. And then she laughed. Calum was convinced he had broken her. Who knew that was all it took.

“I’m sorry. It’s just. Why you? Why did you, of all people, have to be here? What god cursed me with having to deal with you constantly? It’s just- why are you here?” Gemma looked incredulous. She stared at Cal, one eyebrow cocked, and a sarcastic smile on her lips.

“Ashton told me to meet him here and then never showed.” As soon as Cal said Ashton’s name, Gemma fully choked on her drink, coughing and everything. Cal just stared at her, wondering if she was so drunk that she could remember how to swallow. Was that even possible?

“Okay. I should go.” Once again, Gemma was trying to escape having to have a conversation with Calum. He had half a mind to just let her go. But curiosity got the better of him, so he followed her out into the frigid air.

“Hang on. What do you know?” He stood next to her on the street. There was something going on for sure, something she knew that he didn’t.

“According to you, nothing.” She smirked, clearly reveling in the fact that she had something he wanted.

“Spill.” It was cold, and Cal just wanted to be at home in bed, not here playing games with Gemma.

“Fine.” Gemma shivered in her sheer top, clearly as cold as Calum. “I think Ashton set us up. I was supposed to meet him here, too.”

“I’m going to strangle him.” Cal closed his eyes and tipped his head up to the sky, exhaling slowly.

“You and me both.” Cal watched as Gemma turned away from him and began walking down the dark street, her shoulders hunched for warmth.

Calum really had to learn to bite his tongue. And not stick his nose in other people's business, especially not Gemma’s. Still, it was getting harder and harder for him to convince himself he didn’t care. Even though he didn’t. Care, that is. She could walk home in the cold, all alone in the dark. Wouldn’t matter to him. Not one bit. In fact, it’d probably be good for her. Teach her a lesson about forgetting her coat.

That reasoning was how he found himself walking her home, his warm leather jacket around her shoulders.

@rip-lukes-balsamic

#no proof reading we die like mne #calum #calum hood #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood 5sos #calum hood 5 seconds of summer #calum hood fanfic #calum hood oneshot #calum 5sos #calum imagine #calum 5 seconds of summer #calum 5sos au #calum 5sauce #calum 5 sauce

70 notes · View notes

pyrobun · 3 years

Text

petrichor

relationships: wilbur & techno

characters: wilbur, techno, phil, fundy (mentioned), tommy (mentioned)

tags: canon compliant, angst, hurt/comfort

word count: 2.1k

ao3 link

Wilbur explores a familiar ravine and comes out with more questions than answers.

“Was I the villain in your history?”

Phil was silent for a few seconds. He was standing across from Wilbur, in the center of L’Manberg’s town square. “You… for most of your life, you were the best. However, at some point, you went off the deep end near the end of it,” he said with a note of finality. This conversation is over, it’s best you don’t ask anymore. Those were the words left unspoken. Wilbur already knew that what he did when he was alive was terrible. His peers gave him similar looks whenever he passed by them. Looks of regret, wariness, hostility, hatred, and sorrow.

Wilbur excused himself from his father and decided to go on a walk in order to clear his thoughts. Even though a part of him longed to figure out what happened, he was terrified of finding out. Perhaps it was better to not know what had happened to himself and L’Manberg than to risk remembering and shattering any hopes he had of mending his past relationships.

The sun hung low in the sky as he found himself standing outside of an open cave, deep in the forest. He isn’t sure how he ended up here, having been so deep in thought. My feet must’ve taken a life of their own, he concluded as he stepped into the cave. It was abandoned by someone, he realized as he pored over the dusty chests leaning against the walls. His eyes landed on a stairwell at the back of the room. Steeling himself, he descended underground. A lingering smell of blood and smoke hung in the air, a scent that was all too familiar for reasons he couldn’t remember why.

When he reached the end of the stairs, he was met with a dimly lit ravine. Old torches mounted on the stone walls flickered softly, ready to finally go out at any moment. It couldn’t have been that long since someone was here, Wilbur realized. He grabbed one of the torches hanging on the walls and began exploring.

The narrow chasm brought about a wave of nostalgia as Wilbur stopped in a semi-open area. The floor was littered with specks of gunpowder and there was a fence lining one side, looking deeper into the ravine like a balcony. One of the walls featured carefully drawn out letters carved into the stone. When he moved the torch closer, he realized it was a list of names.

THE PLAN ZONE

GUZZLE BROTHERS:

WILBUR

FUNDY

QUACKITY

TOMMY

NIKI

TECHNOBLADE

EVERY FUCKING ONE

MAN BOIS:

SCHLATT

KARL

DREAM

Wilbur definitely knew who was listed under “Guzzle Brothers,” but the identities of the “Man Bois” eluded him. Thinking too hard about them, especially Schlatt and Dream, made his head hurt, so he turned away and made his way to the bottom of the ravine.

There, he found an entrance to a well lit cave. Inside was tilled dirt void of any seeds or crops. That made sense, though, considering this ravine must’ve been abandoned for quite some time. Multiple people must’ve been living down here, Wilbur realized after taking in how much farmland there was. This was enough to feed at least ten people, give or take. Why would people live here, though, if L’Manberg had enough space for everyone?

He decided not to dwell on that thought and left the cave. To his right was a dead end, so Wilbur ventured left. The faint smell of blood grew stronger as he walked farther down the crevice. Wilbur almost fell face first into a large pit in the ground if not for the shocking sight of dried blood smeared on its walls stopping him in his tracks. His torch fell down into it, illuminating even more dried blood on the floor. A fight had definitely taken place here. But who was fighting?

And why?

What took place in this ravine? It had to have been something awful, judging by the blood. Wilbur couldn’t recall. No, it was more like he didn’t want to remember. Was it really that bad? Perhaps it would be better to forget that he ever came here. However, it was too late now. Questions swirled in his mind, and he grasped out in desperation at the foggy answers. But it was no use, any explanation he had was out of reach.

Sighing in defeat, Wilbur retraced his steps and climbed up the stairwell towards the surface. He wanted nothing more than to return to his small library and curl up by the fireplace while reading Big Q’s Funny Hoots. That’d certainly take his mind off of things.

Someone was standing at the entrance of the cave when he got there, their silhouette casting a large shadow on the dusty floor. Oh, it’s Techno. Wilbur could recognize that trademark pig mask and royal red cape anywhere.

Techno stared at him for a few beats before giving him a curt nod in greeting. “I was wondering if you’d be here.”

“What are you doing here?” Wilbur asked, slightly waving in response. Was Techno one of the people living in the ravine?

“Just here to pick up some stuff I left behind,” his brother shrugged, as if the answer was obvious.

Ah, that explained it. Before Wilbur could stop himself, he blurted out, “What happened down there?”

“Oh, right. Phil told me you didn’t remember anything. I guess it comes with being a ghost and all.”

“I still remember my happy memories,” Wilbur protested. “And besides, you’re taking this whole ghost thing pretty easily. Don’t you wanna know why I’m like this?” Granted, Wilbur didn’t know the reason why himself.

“I’ve seen you die before, and there’s worse things out there,” was all Techno said as he moved to rummage through chests. “Also, there’s no way my loving older brother would miss out on the opportunity to haunt me from his grave.”

Wilbur noted the sarcastic tone in Techno’s voice. The two used to be so close together as kids, but now a thick tension seemed to separate them. Did he mess up with Techno when he was alive, like he did with Fundy and Tommy?

“You didn’t answer my question earlier.” Wilbur crossed his arms and arched a brow, awaiting an answer.

“You said it yourself that you only remember your happy memories. If you forgot about Pogtopia, then I doubt you considered your experience here as something pleasant.” Techno fished out a diamond sword and began inspecting it.

“Pogtopia,” Wilbur echoed, the word familiar yet sour on his tongue. It was a silly sounding name, something Tommy would definitely have come up with whenever they played house. He recalled the names listed under “The Plan Zone.” Were they the ones who lived here? It made the most sense, considering how Techno left some of his belongings behind. And what were they doing down in a ravine of all places? Wilbur’s head throbbed as he stared at the ground, deep in thought.

Techno stood up, items in hand, and began to take his leave. “Let’s have a talk someplace else. I know we both have a lot of explaining to do, but it’s getting dark and I have a lot of horses to feed.”

Wilbur perked up upon hearing this, feeling conflicted. How much did he want to know about what he did when he was alive? Quackity had accused him of blowing up L’Manberg, and with the smell of smoke and traces of gunpowder coming from a ravine he apparently lived in, it was too easy (and too painful) to put two and two together.

“Where are we going?” he asked instead, following Techno out of the cave. Stars dotted the cloudless night sky, though some of them were obscured by the forest’s canopy. Wilbur must’ve been down in the ravine for longer than he thought.

“My old base. I’m in the process of moving out.”

“Moving out? Why? Do you not have a house in L’Manberg? I never see you around.”

“I’m not exactly popular in L’Manberg right now. I’ve never lived there before, either.”

The answer left Wilbur in a more confused state than he was already in. So, he pressed on with his questions. “What’d you do? Was it bad? Wait, did it involve Alivebur? I’m sorry if it did.”

At this, Techno paused and turned to look back at the ghost following him. “You don’t have to apologize, you know. You’re different from ‘Alivebur,’ aren’t you?”

Wilbur nodded. He puffed out his chest a little and said, “But if I want to make up for Alivebur’s mistakes, then it’s best I start apologizing. I think it’s working, anyway. Fundy… looked kind of happy when I gave him back his armor.”

Techno let out a resigned sigh and continued walking. “If you’re really, really sure that you want to know about what happened in L’Manberg, I’ll tell you.”

Wilbur opened his mouth, then closed it again. Was this the right thing to do? He had never been too interested in learning about why L’Manberg was a crater until he stumbled upon the ravine—no, Pogtopia, was it?—and found that list of names and the pit. Wilbur belatedly realized that he was shaking. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, as if his body was subconsciously telling him to stop. But he pressed on. If he wanted to deal with the consequences of his actions, then he had to at least know what they were.

“I’m sure.”

Techno nodded and was silent as he led Wilbur to a small clearing near the edge of the riverbank. He set down his items and sat leaning against a tree, gesturing for his brother to do the same. “First off, how much do you remember?”

“I remember… winning the revolution. Then there was an election that I won. After that—”

“You didn’t win the election,” Techno interrupted. Before Wilbur could comment, he continued. “Schlatt did, and banished you and Tommy.”

He lost? To someone named Schlatt?

That’s right, Schlatt was listed under “Man Bois” on that wall in Pogtopia. So were those people the enemies? He could remember hearing of Karl now, he was the one who lived in the house with the garden near L’Manberg’s podium. Whoever Schlatt and Dream were, though, he couldn’t recall.

Techno was still explaining everything, but Wilbur was hardly paying attention at this point. His mind was in turmoil, fighting a civil war of whether or not it was right to remember. However, Techno’s next words sent him crashing back into reality.

“One day you came back to Pogtopia holding a bunch of TNT. Tommy looked pretty furious next to you, ranting about how you teamed up with Dream to plot the destruction of Manberg.”

“Did we…” Wilbur’s voice was hoarse. “Did we succeed?”

He desperately wished that he didn’t already know the answer.

“...Yeah. You did.”

Wilbur was crying now. He wasn’t sure how long he had kept in those tears, but they flooded out of him, dripping down his pale, semi-transparent face. A face that didn’t belong to someone that was alive anymore. A face that had belonged to someone who blew up his home.

Techno hovered his arm around Wilbur’s shoulder in an awkward attempt at an embrace. He couldn’t exactly touch something that wasn’t corporeal, so it was close enough. Wilbur appreciated the gesture all the same.

The only sound that could be heard for a few minutes were the sounds of a spirit crying.

Eventually Wilbur rubbed his eyes and quietly whispered, “Thank you.”

“What are you going to do now?” Techno hummed softly, trying not to disrupt the silent atmosphere.

“Same thing I’ve always been doing, I guess. Make amends with my son and with my country. Though I suppose it isn’t my country anymore.”

“I think Phil would be proud of you for wanting to make a change, for what it’s worth.”

“It only took me dying a third time.”

Techno laughed. “I’m glad you’re back, though, even if you are a ghost now. Just don’t haunt me or anything, okay?”

Wilbur grinned, wiping away the last of his tears. “No promises.”

His smile faltered as he reminisced about his childhood. Hanging out with his brothers without a care in the world… he could remember a scene like this as if it was just yesterday.

Maybe one day, he could spend time like this with Fundy. The two of them could make small talk about unimportant topics and laugh at jokes that weren’t particularly too funny. They could forget about their troubles, if only for a day.

It wasn’t too late for him to make amends with his family. Wilbur, satisfied with that conclusion, rose to his feet.

He bid Techno goodbye and headed back to L’Manberg. He was going to help rebuild what he destroyed. He was going to stop running and to face his consequences head on. He'd do things right this time.

Then maybe, just maybe, his son would look him in the eyes again, and tell him about how much he loved his father.

#mcyt #mcyt fanfiction #fanfiction #dream smp #technoblade #wilbur soot #ghostbur #my fics

1 note · View note

lovemesomesurveys · 4 years

Text

What is the wallpaper on your computer screen? Why did you choose it? A gorgeous b&w photo from a photoshoot Alexander Skarsgard did. I chose it because it’s him and he’s gorgeous, duh. Is there a pattern on the pants you’re currently wearing? Which one? Nope, they’re just plain black leggings. Do you like going to baby showers? Do you go only for the cake? I didn’t mind the few I’ve been to. I liked playing the games. Who is the person you text the most in your life? What relation are you? My mom or brother. Mexican food, Chinese food, Italian food, French food or American food? I like some foods from each of those.

Has there ever been a time in your life, you felt sexually undecided? No. Does your mother annoy you when the holidays come along in the year? No. What is the color scheme of your absolute favorite fast-food restaurant? I don’t have a favorite fast food anymore, honestly. I’m not big on it like I used to be. Do you think tattoos and piercings are sexy on the opposite sex? I don’t mind some tattoos or a couple piercings, but I’m not super into them. Do people ever ask you to do things they’re too short to accomplish? No, I’m the short one who needs to ask others for help. Do your siblings bring people around that your parents don’t approve of? No. Is there carpet or hardwood floor in your bedroom? Carpet. Do you check the texture of things first or the smell of them? Depends on what it is. Certain things I might do both. Have you ever broken the arm or head off of a trophy? How did you do this? No. Do you believe in superstitious things such as breaking a mirror? Nah. Do you get sick of people who call themselves bi polar all the time? I don’t like when people just throw that and OCD around. Ever have an ultra-sound performed on you? What was it for? I’ve had several done in my life. I used to get my kidneys checked once a year. Do you like those ‘end of the world,’ ‘Armageddon’ movies? No. What color are the headphones you have at this moment in time? Black. Ever been choked severely on something during lunch at your school? This is worded weird, but yes actually. It happened in elementary school, but I still remember it quite vividly. I got a chip stuck in my throat. Do you remember who you sat next to in Kindergarten? Who was it? No. Has anyone ever compared you to an animal? Which one(s)? A monkey because of my long arms. Has anyone, including yourself, forgot it was your own birthday? Not anyone close to me, no. Chocolate or strawberry birthday cake? Choose one. Strawberry, hands down. Do you eat more vegetables or fruits? What’s your favorite fruit/veggie? Out of the two, veggies because I do eat spinach oftenish. And potatoes. I haven’t had any fruit in quite a long time. :X Do you abbreviate things way too often? Do you get called out on it? No. I only do “lol”, “lmao”, “wtf”, and “wth.” Ever been in one of those church Christmas plays before? Why/why not? No. What is the funniest conjunction you use throughout your day? I don’t think any of them are funny. Have you ever thrown a roll of toilet paper at someone before? No. Does the dentist calm you or does it tend to stress you out? I have never found the dentist to be calming. I get very bad anxiety when it comes to the dentist. It’s a real fear. If you had to choose, which is the worst movie you’ve ever seen? Hmm. I’ve seen a few shitty movies, hard to choose the worst one. Have you ever found yourself talking to an inanimate object? When they’re not working properly haha. Do you like movies that are originally based on children’s books? Sure. Is your hair more thick or thin? Is it more curly or straight? Thin and wavy. I really wish I could get extensions. Something on the human body that grosses you out the most: Feet. Do you like meeting new people? What’s your most common greeting? I’m not very outgoing or social. Ever think of what it would be like to be a mermaid or merman? Nah. If you had to choose, which celebrity would you date out of all of them? Alexander Skarsgard. ;) Do people feel sorry for you for no reason? Have they ever? I’m sure I look quite pitiful. What is something that bothers you about most surveys in general? The repetition of questions. Especially ones about marriage and children. Who would you take with you on a stranded/deserted island? Someone who could help get me off. Do you have your own personal boom box in your bedroom? A boom box, wow. No, I don’t. Haven’t had or used one in several years. Would you survive if zombies were to take over the world? Why or why not? Nope. What would you say is the worst part of high school period? The teenage years are a rough, pivotal time. What is your favorite color of apple? Red, green or yellow? I don’t care for apples. Ever want to be a doctor? Is it because of all the hospital shows? Noooo. What do you think of all these reality shows that try to alter personality? I’m not sure what kind you’re talking about. Where are your favorite pair of shoes in the whole world right now? My black Adidas with the white stripes. Do you live anywhere near a mall? Yeah, pretty close. Do you like drawing smiley faces or do you think they’re overrated? If I’m randomly doodling, that’s one of the few things I’ll draw. If you were dying who would you say goodbye to first out of everyone? I’d have my loved near me and talk to them. Are you someone who actually likes to babysit children? No. Do you ever have those ‘ah ha!’ moments? Do those annoy you? Yeah. I don’t think they’re annoying. It’s usually a good thing. Do you hardly ever remember where you put things at? No, I’m good about that. What’s your favorite lunch meat, if you even like any in the first place? Turkey, salami, and bologna. When is the next time you’ll eat a cupcake, if you know when? I have no idea. Where did you last buy socks from? What do those socks look like? I forget what the last pair I bought myself was, but I just received a few pairs for Christmas. Do you ever lay in the grass and look up at the sky, just because? Nope. I don’t want to lay or sit on the grass at all. It makes me itchy and there’s bugs. When do you normally go to sleep on the weekends? My sleep schedule is the same regardless of the day. I tend to go to bed around 5AM and wake up around noon. Have you ever met someone with the same ‘biggest fear’ as you? Yes, a few. Do you ever have movie nights with your significant other? I’m single. Would you rather write with a pen or a pencil? Why is this? Pen. Do you like candy bars? Are you trying to slack off of them? Yeah. I haven’t had candy in quite awhile, though. I’m not trying to “slack off of them”, I just haven’t had any. What is your favorite number? Is it significant with your life? 8. It’s been my favorite since I was a kid. Are you afraid of being kidnapped if you go outside at nighttime? I’d be afraid of being attacked or killed. Has your mother ever called your school because of your grades? No. I always got good grades. In the next twenty minutes, what will you be doing and where will you be? I need to go to bed. It’s after 5AM now. Do you like showers or baths better? Why did you choose your choice? I only take showers. I haven’t taken a bath since I was a kid. Are you a controversial person? Do your views oppose others? No. I keep a lot of my opinions to myself. I mean, yeah I have opposing views. We’re not all going to agree on everything. Have you ever thrown a surprise party for someone? Who for? Nope. What would you say your average word per minute time is on the keyboard? I have no idea. I’m a very fast typer, though. What is your least favorite class in school? Why is this? It was always math. I was horrible. Do you bite your fingernails or tap them on desks? I always picked at my nails in class. Have you ever wanted to be in a band? What position exactly? No. Who is your role model or hero in life if you have one? My mom. Do you ever call your cousins just to talk to them randomly? No. I used to text with them or Snapchat or something, but not anymore except for here and there. I’m not close with any of my cousins anymore like I used to be. :( Do you find any of your friends’ parents creepy or really mean? I never found any of my friends’ parents creepy or mean. Do you ever have to wash your clothes at someone else’s house? No. When is the next time you’ll go to the library? Why is this? I have no idea. I have no reason to. Do you like fiction or non-fiction books more? What’s your favorite? Non-fiction. Do you constantly have to be told to shut up? By who? No. I’m not a chatty person, generally. I do have my chatty moods sometimes where I want to tell myself to shut up, though. ha. Do you know how to play pool? Are you any good at it? Nope. Do you treat others as you’d like to be treated? Have you always? I try to. These past few years I haven’t been the most pleasant to around. I get moody, irritable, snippy, pissy, and short with my family and that’s not at all how I want to be. They don’t deserve it. I know I don’t like when people are that way to me. Were you a really mean kid or a sweet and quiet kid? Sweet and quiet. I was the “pleasure to have in class”! Are you someone who likes to get in arguments or fights a lot? Nooo. I avoid it like the plague. How do you make sure people know you don’t like them at all? I don’t have to make a big spectacle about it if I don’t like someone for whatever reason. I can still be polite and civil if I have to interact with them. Would you say you’re someone who likes to cuss a lot? Nope. Do you keep secrets from your parents that you don’t keep from your friends? I mean, my parents don’t know everything. I tell them a lot, especially my mom, but I also keep a lot to myself. Not just from them, but from everyone. What is your father’s best friend’s name? Do you know them personally? Donny. Yes, I know him personally. They’ve been friends all my life. If you had to, where would you get a tattoo at? Why? I’ve always thought my inner wrist, but I don’t know now. How much was the cell phone you have at this moment in time? However much the iPhone XR is. Would you say you hang out with people the majority of your life? I spend quite a lot of my time alone, but I spend a lot of time with my family as well. What would you do if you woke up randomly with purple hair? Uhh that would be quite shocking. I also dye my hair red, so if I woke up and it was purple one day I’d be pretty concerned. Do you ever look in the mirror and name all of your flaws for no reason? I avoid looking in the mirror as much as possible, and when I do I keep it short. If I spend too long that’s exactly what would happen. All my flaws become magnified and intensified and they’re all I see. Are you getting sick of the reality show Survivor? Why? I never watched it, but I’m surprised it’s still on. Do you usually explain to people why you do the things you do? Not usually, no, but with some things I guess. Or at least try to. I don’t even understand why I do what I do. Ever submit a video to America’s Funniest Home Videos? No. I wanted to as a kid. What color is the closest desk to your body? What all is on it? I don’t have a desk in my room. The most painful medical procedure you’ve ever had? Any of the surgeries I’ve had. Are you someone who likes to eat Poptarts? What’s your favorite flavor? The strawberry frosted and the brown sugar frosted ones. Ever have a dream you’re being abducted by aliens? Was it scary? No. What would you say is the color of your favorite bra? I only like to wear black ones. Do you like people who are loud or people who are quiet? Quiet, generally. I mean, if they get animated and excited about something and get a little loud that’s fine, but not loud in general. That would give me a headache haha. It’s like, “why are you shouting???” Does personality weigh out the sense of ‘good looks?’ What. When is the next time you’ll see someone who is pregnant? I have no idea. Do you hate it when people copy the things you do? No one copies anything I do, nor should they. Where is your favorite piece of electronic equipment? I’m using it right now while sitting on my bed. Where is the person who ‘owns your heart’ at this moment in time? I’m right here. Has anyone ever told you that you’re good at cooking? Ha, no. I’m not a cook. Would you say you’re a fast texter, or are you pretty slow? I’m a very fast typer on a computer, but not as fast on my phone. What is your favorite flavor of Doritos? What do you drink with them? Nacho or Cool Ranch. I’d drink whatever I had at the time, which would likely be a Starbucks Doubleshot and/or water. I haven’t had Doritos or any kind of chip in a long time, though. Do you have any enemies who you think are dangerous? I don’t have any enemies. Do you ever try to squeeze information out of people? Uhh I might from my mom or brother about certain things cause I can be nosey with them lol, but no not generally. Does it freak you out when the police drive by your house? No. Are you someone who tends to take a whole lot of naps? I don’t take a lot of naps even though I’m always tired. Naps make me groggy and more tired, but sometimes sleep just wins and I give in to a nap. What is your favorite nickname you like to be called? Why do you like it? Sis. Do you already have your outfit for tomorrow planned out? No. I don’t plan my outfits unless I’m going certain places or packing for a vacation. What is the color of your favorite pair of pants? What brand are they? I like my numerous pairs of black leggings, ha. Has your favorite song ever been featured on a commercial? Yeah, a few have. Do you ever promise pc4pc on Myspace then never return the favor? Wow, I remember those days. I was good about keeping my end of the deal. What is one song right now that really gets on your nerves? Hmm. I can’t think of one in particular at the moment. What would you say was the best year of your life? Why? My childhood. Do those annoying infomercials ever draw you in to buy things? I’ve seen things that were of interest, but nah I’ve never ordered anything from an informercial. I’m always skeptical about anything they try to sell. Have you ever been pulled over by the cops for speeding? I don’t drive. I can’t tell you how many speeding jokes I’ve received as someone in a wheelchair throughout my life, though. -____- Is anyone in your family a firefighter? Who is it anyway? Nope.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

6 notes · View notes

livingthroughchoices-blog · 6 years

Text

The Marshmallow Chronicles (Ch. 13: Hunting for Love)

Prev | Next

Author’s notes: Hi! Sorry this took so long! As I told a lovely anon, I had been working on it for a while and it was deleted so I had to recover from the frustration.

Thanks to the people who like, reblog and/or comment. You guys are the reason I’ve kept going <3 Huge thanks to @starstruckzonkoperatorbat, @notoriouscs, @simplyaiden-blog, @snyggflicka, @asprankle, @speedyoperarascalparty, @mirivalencia, @mymandrake and @asobigokoro2018 for asking me to tag them!

Love you guys <3

Rating: T

Pairing: Drake x MC

Words: 5,943

Drake retired to his room early, not feeling up to enjoying the festivities.

God, this sucks. I have to get this under control. Am I just gonna feel like shit all the time now?

Out of a sense of self-preservation he reflected he should probably keep his distance from Riley for the foreseeable future. He was shocked to realize that the thought of not being around her was more painful than seeing her with Liam.

I guess I do want Adams to be a part of my life...

He flopped down unto his bed, trying to think of something that could distract him, when he felt his phone vibrate twice in his pocket.

He pulled it out and read, “Hey, Drake! Where did you run off to?”

And then a separate message, “It’s Addams 😊”

His stomach did a somersault, seeing her call herself the nickname he called her. He’d already known it was her; Liam had given him her number “just in case”, as he put it, but Drake could never bring himself to text her. It would have felt like an even greater betrayal of Liam’s friendship. He had, however, spent more time than he cared to admit with his fingers hovering over the keyboard, staring at her picture and holding himself back from typing.

“You know me, Addams, always sneaking off”

“Yeah, but you could’ve asked me to come with you ☹️“

Right, like she wasn’t having fun with Liam.

He was wondering whether there was a way to phrase that so it was less obvious how bitter he was and then she texted again.

“You’re welcome btw”

“For what?”

He noticed she was already typing the moment he sent it. He was glad she didn’t play games with texting, didn’t wait long to reply, didn’t mind double-texting.

“For not making you my court jester! You would’ve looked cute in that cap tho lol”

“Funny. So why didn’t you?”

“Well, you only made that bet to motivate me”

The three dots were still on the screen so he waited. She seemed to be thinking especially hard about this text, as she took inordinately long typing it. Drake’s palms were sweating.

“And... tbh, as soon as they said a cup-bearer is someone you trust I knew I had to say you”

Drake was thankful he couldn’t choke or stutter through texts. He threw his phone on the bed and put his head under his pillow, completely overwhelmed. He couldn’t stop smiling, yet he felt close to tears at the same time.

Pull it together, man.

He took a few breaths to steady himself and grabbed his phone. He caught a glimpse of his dopey smile reflected on his phone’s dark screen before he unlocked it.

“You’re making me blush, Addams”

“You’re going soft on me, Drake ;)”

“Hey, thanks. I trust you too”

“No prob, I’ll have plenty of chances to beat your ass lol”

He could practically see her smirk.

“Ha, we’ll see about that”

“Well, I'd better go to bed, my alarm clock is waaay too chipper in the mornings”

“Is being queen even worth Maxwell waking you up every day?”

“I’m starting to doubt it haha”

He knew she was kidding, but he still couldn’t help the stupid, senseless hope he felt at that.

She texted once more, “Thanks for everything, Drake, I mean it. See you tomorrow?”

“Any time :) see you tomorrow”

He set his alarm for the next morning feeling a little more optimistic. That was it, he just had to find the right balance with Riley. He could give her a break, for starters. Since his feelings would not be ignored, he could use them to be nicer and act like a real friend to her, for a change. Yes, instead of wallowing in his unrequited crush, he would try to grow and improve through this.

With this in mind, he turned the lights off and went to sleep.

The next day he got up unusually early, determined to be a better version of himself. He started by finding Liam, who was enjoying a rare quiet moment in the stables.

“Hey, Liam!”

“Drake! This is a pleasant surprise! What brings you here so early?”

“I don’t know, we haven’t hung out in a while and I thought...” he trailed off.

I really have to get better at this friendship thing.

Liam looked touched, so much so that Drake felt his embarrassment grow.

“I’d like nothing better! How are you? Any news of Savannah?”

“Nothing. Radio silence. And her trail’s gone cold so...” he sighed.

Liam put a supportive hand on his shoulder, “Listen, if there’s anything I can do, all you have to do is ask. I’ve asked Bastien to look into it, but he seems to have a lot on his plate lately.”

“Oh, so it’s not just me?”

“That he’s been short with?”

“Short? More like a dick! Do you know he yelled at me yesterday for no reason?”

Liam raised a skeptical eyebrow, “No reason?”

“Okay, so I teased him a little but Liam, I swear, it was nothing compared to the pranks we used to pull on him!”

Liam chuckled. “Remember when we locked him out of the training room?”

“Or when we put those balloons behind the door?” Drake snorted.

“He was so startled when they popped he pulled out his gun!”

“Yeah, in retrospect I can see how that was actually pretty dangerous and not super fun for him,” admitted Drake, though he was still chuckling.

“It was very irresponsible,” agreed Liam. “We should really show him some sort of appreciation soon, especially if he is under pressure.”

“Good idea, but you should leave that to me; you’ve got enough shit to do.”

“Do I? Other than choosing a queen for Cordonia and my lifelong partner, my schedule is wide open,” Liam joked.

They heard footsteps getting nearer and Drake peeked out to see King Constantine approaching the stables. That’s my cue.

“I’d better take Morello, then.” He strode to one of the stalls, where a jet black horse whinnied excitedly. “Hey, boy.” He led him gently outside, grabbing a saddle on his way back to Liam. “Well, if there’s any way I can help you, just say the word.” Drake clapped his back.

“I know, Drake, thank you.”

Drake waved goodbye and exited, his horse walking behind him. He briefly stopped to give the King a perfunctory bow. He ambled around the grounds, at peace for the first time in what seemed like ages. He’d missed Liam’s company. He was used to long periods of only seeing each other for quick conversations, but lately, his once-easy friendship had felt anything but. Now, with a clearer mind and knowing what he intended to do about his silly crush, it all seemed as simple as it used to be.

In a secluded spot, he saddled Morello. He caressed its muzzle and the horse nickered affectionately. “I missed you, too, buddy. It’s been busy around here, you know? Busier than usual. New people and everything.”

He scratched behind its ears, lost in thought. He looked back towards the stables and saw most of the group already mounted. “All right, seems like everyone’s on their horses. You ready?”

Morello neighed, which Drake took as a yes. He swung expertly onto his saddle and took the reins. “Now listen, if there’s ever been a time when we gotta look good, it’s this one, okay?”

The horse snorted and Drake patted its neck.

Nothing wrong with trying to impress the suitors. It’s not like I’m making a move or anything. I just want her to know I’m good at something.

He directed Morello at a slow gait toward the others. He’d decided to stay in the back, should anyone need any help.

Nobles don’t tend to be good at much.

He smiled a little, remembering when Tariq had gotten his foot tangled in the stirrup a few years ago and sighed contentedly.

Yeah, today might be a good day.

He saw Riley up ahead and had already raised his hand to urge Morello forward with the reins, then thought better of it.

You’ll go up to her if it’s natural. Stop forcing it.

He settled in the last spot. After a few minutes of riding at a ridiculously slow pace, his gaze started drifting more and more often towards Riley, until he was fully staring at her.

I’m such a creep.

Try as he might, though, he couldn’t help looking at her, the shapes her lips made when she talked or smiled, how beautifully her hair moved in the breeze...

I’m gonna make myself sick.

She was currently having what looked like a surprisingly civil conversation with Olivia.

Yuck. She’s such a better person than I am.

A few minutes later, Hana was the one to approach her.

Lovesick idiots that we are.

He shook his head fondly at Hana.

God, I hope you come out of this better than me, kid.

Hana moved back to talk to the rest of the suitors. At the same time, Drake noticed Lady Kiara trying to catch his eye and ignored her as politely as he could.

Out of desperation – fine, and also because I really, really want to talk to her – he called out to Riley, “Addams!”

She turned towards him, grinning. He returned her smile and waved her over. She immediately slowed down and let others pass her until she was at the back with Drake. He was pleasantly surprised at how well she commanded her horse.

Okay, here we go. Friends. We’re gonna be friends.

“There you are. You look like you actually know how to ride a horse.”

That’s something a friend would say, right?

One of Riley’s hands flew to her mouth in mock surprise. “Oh my gosh, opening with a compliment?”

“Careful, don’t want you falling off your horse now.” Drake smirked, though he still regarded her uneasily.

Friends worry about their friends!

“I’m surprised you’re out here with all the nobles today.” It was phrased like a statement, but there was a question behind it.

Well, obviously the truth is out of the question.

“Turns out, I had an opening in my schedule today.” He grinned. “And there’s something oddly satisfying about watching nobles fuss over their stuffy blazers.”

Riley giggled. “Is this why you’re not frowning... as much as usual, anyway.”

Drake didn’t know whether to shake her or kiss her.

It’s you! You’re the reason! Okay, how do I make that friend-appropriate?

“It has more to do with the company I keep.” That was probably the most sincere he’d been in the past year.

“A second compliment!” This time, Riley didn’t pretend to be shocked, she actually was. Her eyes shone as she looked at Drake, delighted.

“One more and you win the jackpot,” he winked.

If only I could actually give her anything.

“I hope it’s all your whiskey,” she teases.

It was Drake’s turn to act horrified. She pushed his shoulder and he smiled with a sigh.

“You know, when we first met, I wanted to dislike you so badly...” He was not sure why he was saying this.

I guess I want our friendship to start on a clean slate.

Riley’s eyes were wide. “You WANTED to dislike me? Why?”

Of course she finds it unbelievable that anyone could dislike her, cocky jerk.

He smiled to himself.

“You were crashing Liam’s bachelor party! It was supposed to be our last night out together before all of this... We’ve always been like brothers, doing everything together...” He thought of that morning, how spending a few minutes with him had felt like a privilege.

“Now I’m lucky to see him for five minutes without a noble girl throwing herself in front of him,” he finished bitterly.

After a moment of silence, he realized she might think he meant her and hurriedly apologized, “Sorry. I didn’t mean...”

She put her hand on his for a second, her eyes understanding, “I know what you meant.”

Drake could not comprehend how the smallest of her gestures could calm him, make him feel better, like he mattered.

I have to stop getting so pathetically emotional over every little thing she does.

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I know we got off to a bad start, but somewhere along the way... things changed.”

Okay, stop it right there or you might go too far.

“Hell, Addams, I don’t even know why I’m telling you any of this.” He rubbed a hand on his face, embarrassed at this outpouring of honesty.

Riley spoke, “Drake, I wanted to dislike you too.”

He looked up from his hands, taken by surprise, although he had no reason to be. “You did?”

“Yeah, I mean, you were a total jerk to me!”

Understatement of the year.

“But now...”

Drake hated how his voice practically trembled with hope, “Now?”

“It took time... but I figured out that you’re actually human under all those scowls,” she poked him.

Of course. She barely even sees me as a friend, how could I have thought... Well, it doesn’t matter, being friends is already more than I deserve after the way I treated her.

He spotted Liam with his parents ahead.

There’s someone else I need to be better to.

“This has all been touching, but I need to rescue Liam from his family for a couple minutes.”

He heard Riley utter a small “Oh” as he rode ahead, and felt a twinge of guilt coupled with that insufferable emotion he’d been feeling constantly as of late, hope.

He reached them just in time to hear Queen Regina sing the praises of Madeleine, much to Liam’s apparent chagrin.

“Do you see what I am saying, Liam? Wouldn’t you agree that she is the superior choice?”

“She would certainly make an excellent monarch, son,” chimed in the King.

“She is a lady with many merits, yes,” replied Liam diplomatically.

“So is she the suitor you are most leaning towards, then?” prodded the Queen.

“I–I...”

“Liam!” Drake called, startling the three monarchs, who had been so absorbed in their conversation they had not noticed his arrival. “Wanna race ahead?”

“Loser does 30 push-ups!” Liam exclaimed, already urging his horse forward.

Liam was, of course, an accomplished rider. There really weren’t any rich people things you could afford to be bad at when you were a royal. However, Drake had spent more time in the stables than he had. And so, despite Liam’s exceptional instruction, he didn’t share the bond that Drake and Morello did.

All this to say, by the time Liam caught up with him, Drake had time to pretend to be looking at an imaginary watch on his wrist.

“Liam, Liam, Liam,” he said, with shakes of his head. “You’ve really got me to thank for your abs, you know that, right?”

Liam chuckled. “That’s my secret; I lose on purpose so I can stay in shape.”

Drake snorted. “You keep telling yourself that, buddy.”

“Drake, thanks for that.” Liam’s relief was palpable.

Drake sobered. “No problem. You looked like you’d rather be at the bottom of the canyon so...”

Liam gave a humorless laugh. “Not quite, but almost. I don’t think they understand that I’m conflicted enough as it is.”

Drake perked up at this, “Are you? I... thought it was a done deal. That you were choosing Riley, that is.”

Liam shushed him. “Not so loud!” He ran his fingers through his hair. “What can I say? In my heart, it is, but unfortunately that is not nearly enough.”

Drake’s heart sank.

Even if he doesn’t choose her, he’s in love with her. And he’s your best friend.

“Stop worrying so much, man, what’s that gonna do? Look, let’s just enjoy the feast today, huh? You still have a few events left to decide. Not to mention a Beaumont party to look forward to!”

“I’ll try. Although I must say, I am definitely looking forward to that! Their parties are really unparalleled.”

“That they are.”

He and Liam rode on in companionable silence until they reached the mountain village. It was charming and rustic, with its little cabins and huts surrounding a vast filed in which long tables had been set out, laden with food.

Once everyone had gathered round, King Constantine welcomed them, “Everyone, we’ve reached our hunting lodges. Our forebears would dine on the day’s hunt here, and though we no longer hunt, we will still have a great feast. But first, we race to celebrate our ancestors. The first to reach Prince Liam will be served first at the feast! Begin!”

Drake was torn between wishing he could participate – he was starving – and excitement at seeing the suitors race and possibly make a fool out of themselves. Except Hana, obviously. And Riley, he hoped... though that would provide an incredible opportunity to tease her.

No. Friends don’t want their friends to look dumb.

He needn’t have chided himself, for Riley did well. She didn’t win – predictably, it was Hana who did – but she did a good job for her first time, in Drake’s opinion.

An image popped up in his mind, uninvited, of himself teaching Riley how to ride properly. They were all smiles and laughter...

Stop it, brain.

He forced himself to concentrate on what King Constantine was saying, “That’s superb horsemanship in action. Servants, prepare the first plate for Lady Hana. Now, then. Let’s all take some time to rest. Dinner will begin shortly.”

The crowd broke into smaller, more relaxed groups. He dismounted Morello and tied him to the hitching rail where all the other horses were drinking water and chewing on oats or grazing. He saw Riley talking to Tariq, weirdly. Liam was engaged in conversation with Olivia – no, thanks – and then he spotted Maxwell and Hana.

“Congratulations, Hana! That was some riding,” he admired as he approached them.

“Yeah, you kicked ass!” Maxwell agreed enthusiastically.

She blushed, “Thank you. I am glad I could put something my parents made me learn to use. If only to eat first.”

“I think that’s the best prize you could get, I’m starving! Right, Maxwell?”

Maxwell was looking out at Riley, who was talking to Liam, with an uncharacteristically pensive expression on his face.

Drake waved a hand in front of his face. “Maxwell? Everything okay, man?”

“Wha–? Oh. Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine.”

“Sure.” Drake eyed him suspiciously and shared a puzzled look with Hana, who broke the tension.

“Why don’t we go see what they’re up to?”

The three of them walked over to Liam and Riley. Liam was, as Drake had come to expect, smiling widely, completely engrossed in whatever Riley was saying.

“Hey, the feast is being put out.” Drake pointed out when they’d joined the pair.

“And they’ve got dishes supposedly blessed by the spirits of the nearby ruins,” Maxwell informed them.

Hana’s face instantly lit up. “Oooh! I’ve heard legends about those ruins! They sound magical. People travel from all around just to see them.”

“It’s a shame we’re not scheduled to see them,” Liam frowned.

Thank God! Bunch of old rocks.

Hana’s face fell as fast as it had brightened before. “We aren’t? I was so hoping to...”

Maxwell put a comforting arm around her shoulders and suggested, “Why don’t we just go anyway? Sounds like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!”

A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to miss out on delicious food, maybe.

“Are you sure we should?” Hana asked, cautiously eager.

No!

“It’d be nice to spend some time together without this crowd around,” Liam said. As always, he turned directly to Riley and asked, “What do you say, Riley?”

Riley had that familiar mischievous look she got when she was ready to break the rules. “Let’s have an adventure!”

Drake came close to protesting this decision, until he noticed that her face was practically glowing with excitement.

Fiiine, I’ll go. Crushes are so stupid.

He shook his head at himself but kept quiet, not wanting to spoil the others’ fun.

“Alright!” Maxwell fist-pumped.

“I’m excited to visit another piece of Cordonian history,” gushed Hana.

Liam took the lead and gestured for them to come. “Follow me. I know how to get there.”

They walked away from the crowded field and into the adjacent forest. At least this I can enjoy. Drake took in the lush trees, the leave-strewn path they were following and the mysteriously soothing sounds of nature surrounding them. He tried to see if he could spot any forest creatures, but aside from a few shuddering bushes, he didn’t see any; they had probably been spooked by the humans’ presence.

He breathed in deeply, feeling a bit better, despite the hunger. He realized he’d been walking next to Maxwell, who had been quiet the whole time.

What the hell?!

“Hey, Maxwell, you know I’m not buying that ‘everything’s fine’ bullshit, right?”

“What? Why? Everything is–”

“Stop it. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Maxwell sighed. “Okay. I need someone’s opinion on this, anyway. You know how I’m sponsoring Riley?”

“You can skip the intro, Maxwell, I am the same guy who’s been here for everything,” Drake rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, sorry.” Maxwell was cracking his knuckles nonstop at this point. Drake grabbed his arms and forced him to stop.

“What is it? It can’t be that bad.��

“It’s not bad, it’s complicated. Riley might not be sure about this whole thing anymore.”

Maxwell looked so conflicted that Drake put an arm around his shoulders and said, “Well, being queen is a big deal, dude! Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll come around!”

“It’s not that. Or at least, not just that. It’s... it’s Liam, too.”

Drake almost stopped walking and had to remind his feet to keep going.

Maxwell kept talking and Drake listened to him half-heartedly. “So I don’t know what to because on the one hand, she’s my friend now. I don’t want to force her to do anything she doesn’t want to! Especially something so big! And I know she feels pressured... I mean, who wouldn’t, with Bertrand? But on the other hand, House Beaumont desperately needs a win, now more than ever... er, for no particular reason.”

Drake was busy trying to calm his buzzing thoughts.

She’s not sure about Liam! Could it be that–?

No. There’s no way it’s because of you!

You can’t know that!

So what? Even if it is, you think she’s gonna give up a kingdom?

His internal argument was interrupted by Maxwell taking a huge breath and continuing, “And then there’s Liam; he really, really likes her and he probably thinks she likes him back and I know it’s not my place to tell him but I feel terrible.”

Right. Liam. You couldn’t do that to your best friend, either way.

There was no argument there.

“Drake? Are you going to say anything or...?”

“Oh, uh, yeah! I don’t think there’s that much to say except, Addams is going to choose whatever she chooses, okay? Even if Bertrand is pressuring her, she’ll do whatever she wants; she’s stubborn like that,” he smiled fondly. “And I guess you gotta trust that she knows.”

“Knows what?”

“Well, that she understands both the reason you brought her here in the first place and that you’re her friend. I’m sure she’ll do whatever she can to help House Beaumont and be happy. She’s one of those people that always finds a way, you know what I mean?”

“I do and I hope you’re right.”

“Psh, when am I not?”

Maxwell pushed him away. “When you said I wouldn’t dare ask the Queen to breakdance with me.”

Drake snorted, “You got me there. I underestimated how inappropriate you can be. And this is from a commoner.”

“I still think she secretly wanted to.”

“Right, maybe she just needed a few more glasses of champagne. Why don’t you try again at the next Beaumont party?”

“Don’t think I won’t.”

They spent the rest of the way laughing and coming up with stupid plans to get the Queen to breakdance.

“Here we are,” Liam announced from ahead of them.

The group moved forward out of the trees and into a clearing. Imposing, mossy stone ruins littered the place, most of them unrecognizable as buildings after so long.

“It’s so beautiful and serene,” Hana breathed out.

Without distractions, Drake’s hunger had returned with a vengeance. “Yep... sure are a bunch of old things here,” he shrugged.

Liam shook his head at him. “It’s so much more than that. There’s something so calm about this place. Can’t you sense it?”

They stood there for a few seconds, their own silence swallowed by the noises made by thousands of bugs and other small critters accustomed to their solitude.

As he’d come to expect, Maxwell broke their silence first, “The only thing I sense is about a million snakes and probably a couple of rock monsters getting ready to attack us.”

Hana’s eyes widened. “Rock monsters? Do you have any rock monsters in Cordonia?”

“It was a joke... just forget it.” Maxwell sighed in defeat.

“I want to find some ghosts,” said Riley, putting her arms up in a “spooky” stance.

“Ghosts?” Hana looked worried, again.

“Maybe one will tell me my future,” piped up Maxwell

That’s not how ghosts work.

“Or devour your soul,” Drake replied in a creepy voice.

Riley shot him a look, “Drake.”

He smiled at her and shrugged. “I’m just saying, that is the likelier outcome!”

“Since some of us,” said Riley pointedly, “seem determined not to take this seriously, why don’t we split up? That way we can all explore however we want.”

“Or not explore,” grumbled Drake.

Riley rolled her eyes at him.

They went their separate ways. Too hungry to be curious, Drake found a rock that looked like it might be halfway comfortable and slumped against it.

Hana’s already quiet footsteps were further muffled by the leaves and dirt, so he jumped when she addressed him, “Hi, Drake.”

“Hana! You scared the crap outta me!”

She giggled, “Sorry! I didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, well, next time clear your throat or something.”

“Understood.”

She slumped – somehow making it look graceful – next to him.

“So how are you?”

“Same old. Acting like a dumb teenager with a crush, you?”

“Me too... although I never got to be a ‘dumb teenager’ so I wouldn’t know.”

“What are you gonna do about it? I just... I have no idea how to act or what to say or not to say.”

“I don’t think I’ll do anything about it at all. I am here as a suitor and that is something I must keep in mind. Not only that, but she’s my best friend... I don’t think I am prepared to risk our friendship.”

“Well, at least you have some sort of claim, you know? She’s your best friend. I’m... what? Her boyfriend’s best friend?” He scoffed.

They settled into a gloomy silence until Drake spoke again. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’d be risking your friendship. If she doesn’t... feel the same way, I’m sure she’ll understand.”

Hana thought about it for a long moment. “You may be right. I’m not certain I’ll have the courage, though.”

“Are you kidding? You came here from so far away and you’ve tried so many new things; of course you do! You have more guts that Liam, Maxwell and I combined. With Addams you might be evenly matched,” he chuckled.

Hana smiled. “Thank you, Drake. I only wish there was a way this could end favorably for everybody.”

Drake didn’t think that needed an answer. They all wished that. Hana patted his shoulder and left as quietly as she’d come.

Almost as soon her barely audible footsteps receded, Drake heard somebody else approach.

“Hey, Addams,” he greeted her.

She stood in front of him. “You look like you’re having a good time exploring,” she said with an arched eyebrow.

Drake grimaced. “Archaeology isn’t really my thing.”

Plus, I’m fucking hungry. Bordering on hangry.

“You could at least look around.” Riley gestured at the ruins. “It’s not like you come here often.”

“I looked around. There’s some old buildings. That’s about it.”

What happened to being friendlier, dammit?

“Hmm...” Riley considered what he’d said as if he’d actually made and interesting point instead of just sarcastic whining.

“Don’t you want to know where you come from? And what about insight into how people lived long ago?”

She sounded so fascinated it was almost enough to get Drake interested. Almost. “They could’ve ridden dragons for all I care. It doesn’t mean much now.”

There’s enough shit going on in the present, and shit to worry about in the future. Why look at the past?

He could see Riley was getting tired of his attitude.

Hell, so am I.

She put her hands on her hips. “So why did you come out here if you don’t really care for these sorts of things?”

Because you looked adorably excited about it?

As had become common for him, he went with a different version of the truth, “I don’t think we’re going to get many more times like this.”

Riley tilted her head, “Like what?”

“I mean... Liam is going to be king soon.” He swallowed painfully. “And you could very well be his queen. Everything’s going to change.” He bit the inside of his cheek and looked down. What was he going to do the day of the Coronation if he could barely handle the thought?

To his surprise, Riley’s next words were, “You know, you’re right.”

He looked up to see a fierce look on her face, “We don’t need to associate with the riff-raff. I mean, really, what could you even provide for us? A sense of grounding and humility?”

Drake shook his head but couldn’t help smiling a little. “I see what you’re trying to do here. It’s not going to work.”

“Or maybe someone to sneak us out of the palace? Why would we want that when we’re drinking champagne and shaking ambassadors’ hands?”

She sounds so sure. There’s no way Maxwell’s right, he probably misunderstood. She’s gonna be queen.

His stomach clenched and he had to make an effort to focus on their back and forth.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep on punching down.”

Riley’s voice softened and she stepped closer. “Or maybe we’ll need a reminder that no matter how tough someone may seem on the outside, there’s a big, lovable softie on the inside.”

“Hey!”

She put her hands on both his shoulders and gave him a goofy smile. “Come on, Drake. There’s a smile inside you somewhere.”

Drake gave up and smiled with a laugh. “You’re the worst, Addams.”

“Would you have me any other way?”

She’s gonna make me say something I’ll regret if she keeps asking those questions. Fuck no, I wouldn’t have you any other way. You’re amazing.

“Addams... We may have had some ups and downs between us, but I want you to know that I’ve enjoyed this little adventure with you. Not just the ruins, but the whole thing since I walked into your bar in New York.”

He looked her straight in the eyes and tried to say something nice in the least romantic way possible. “You’re... you’re not bad.”

Riley seemed more moved by that than he’d expected.

Maybe she understands I mean so much more than that.

“Awww, Drake, I care for you too.”

Goddamn. I care so fucking much and I can’t stop.

“Addams... I...”

Don’t say anything. Think of Liam.

He shook his head and sighed. He let himself meet her eyes; there was such an intense, yet soft look in them. He felt his gaze slowly make its involuntary way down to her lips. He couldn’t remember wanting anything as badly.

“You’re something else...” he choked out.

He heard her inhale sharply through her lips. She blushed, breaking their eye contact and putting her arms down.

I went too far.

“Now, we really need to get you out of here before you completely lose it.” The conversation was light-hearted again. “All this reflecting isn’t healthy for you.”

“You’re right. If I stay much longer, I might melt into a big ball of mush,” he shuddered. He had to stop putting himself in these situations; he’d come so close to saying or doing something he shouldn’t...

“Let’s go find the others.” He started walking towards the edge of the forest without looking back. Everyone else was already there.

“That was lovely,” said Liam.

“There weren’t any ghosts,” Maxwell complained.

“Why are you sad about that?” Hana seemed to grow more confused by Maxwell the more she knew him.

He shrugged, “I don’t know, I’m kind of curious what a ghost would have to say. Would’ve made a good story.”

“You can always lie. I’ll back you up,” offered Drake.

“There’s an idea!” he exclaimed.

Unexpectedly, Riley wrung her hands nervously, “Maxwell, please don’t tell me any ghost stories.”

“I won’t tell it to you. You’ll be a supporting character in the story.”

“Do I survive?” she asked with hope.

“No.”

“Aww...”

“Hah,” Drake mocked her.

Maxwell put an arm around Riley and reassured her, “Drake is the first to die, though.”

“Hey!”

Liam chuckled along with everyone but Drake, and then said, “Alright, everyone. It’s time to head out.”

Riley took one last look at the ruins, sounding resigned, “These ruins were bigger than I thought.”

“Could’ve used an open bar in my opinion,” muttered Drake.

Maxwell, who apparently was almost as hungry as Drake, urged them on, “The feast is waiting for us back at the village! Let’s go!”

“That’s the best idea you’ve ever had. Including sponsoring Addams,” said Drake, earning him a push from Riley.

The walk back to the field seemed much longer to Drake, eager as he was for something to eat.

When they eventually reached the banquet tables, he was relieved to find them still heaping with food; he’d been anxious it would all be gone by the time they returned.

“Wow... That’s a lot of meat!” Riley’s mouth was watering as she looked at the many cloches piled with different types of roasted meats.

“It’s not exactly a feast without it.” Drake said this as he loaded his plate with everything he could reach.

“A little more fruit couldn’t hurt,” Hana murmured, eyeing the comparatively few options a little sadly.

“I wouldn’t mind putting a bunch of fruit on a stake and waving it around like a sword.” Maxwell was already looking around the tables, trying to find something stake-like.

“Alright, let’s grab our food before Maxwell gets any other crazy ideas,” Drake interrupted.

Maxwell spotted a watermelon and grinned. “And then I could wear a watermelon as a helmet...” He smirked. “I’d be unstoppable.”

Drake had to forcibly remove Maxwell from the table before he could carry out any of his plans. Riley got him a bit of everything – except for watermelon – and brought both her and Maxwell’s plates to where Liam and Hana were already sitting.

Maxwell revealed a champagne bottle he’d managed to swipe from the table before Drake took him away.

“I’ll go get glasses!” Hana volunteered, and darted to the table to get five of them.

Maxwell popped the champagne and poured some for everyone. He then stood up and raised his glass.

“A toast to all of us and to our friendship!”

“To friendship!” chirped Hana.

“Ugh... to friendship,” agreed Drake reluctantly.

It’s only all I’ve thought about today.

Liam smiled at them all and said, “To friendship.”

“To friendship!” exclaimed Riley.

They clinked their glasses and drank.

Damn, if I didn’t get lucky with these people.

#trr #the royal romance #drake walker #drake x mc #prince liam #hana lee #maxwell beaumont #playchoices #choices #pixelberry #pb #fanfic #ch 13 #the marshmallow chronicles #long post

42 notes · View notes

cookinguptales · 6 years

Text

As an addendum to that last post, my parents are pretty okay, but while I was growing up, they were trying to unlearn a lot of that stuff themselves. They grew up in an environment even more batshit insane than mine. Honestly, sometimes they still say things that absolutely take my breath away when it comes to being judgmental over sex and sexuality, but they definitely try hard, especially my mom. My life would be much more difficult if they were like the rest of our family. I don’t want to make it seem like everyone was completely awful, even though my parents were definitely uh. Not always supportive or progressive in their statements while I was younger.

Their parents, though, jesus christ. And all my aunts and uncles... Most of my cousins...

(cut for some uh. some shit.)

Like the family’s largely from, like, Virginia/Carolinas/Tennessee/Maryland, I grew up in rural Ohio, North Carolina, and then lower central Florida (which is very old and conservative)... They’re very conservative areas. I honestly don’t think I even met an openly queer person until I was in like 8th grade, when I started going to an art school and started meeting the “artsier” people. No one talked about it when I was little, except for vaguely disparaging terms I didn’t understand. The best you’d get is basically, like, “well, people shouldn’t hurt them, but why do they have to be so loud about their weird relationships and their ‘rights’, isn’t not being attacked enough?” And the worst was uh. A lot worse.

(My grandfather was a comic book artist who went viral online because he was so fucking homophobic. It’s bad when he makes my grandmother look mild by comparison -- like, this is the lady who boycotted Disney because they hire gay people.)

Growing up where I did, it’s not like... It’s not like oh, everyone’s talking about how all gays should die 24/7. It’s just this ever-present background hum of religion and disparaging of “liberal political correctness” and talking about queer people in hushed tones like their existence is a dirty word. It’s being told that they’re very progressive compared to the rest of their congregation! They love the sinner, but hate the sin! They just keep going to all the gay people they know and telling them they should be asexual or try conversion therapy because they love them and it’d be such a shame if they rotted in Hell for eternity. It’s not like they want gay people dead like their friends do. They’re so progressive.

It��s just this absolutely oppressive knowledge in the back of your head. And the worst part is that for so much of my life, I believed them. When you grow up in an environment with fairly limited internet and media intake and everyone has very similar political beliefs, well. They tell you something is true and you believe them. I didn’t get my own laptop until I was about 18 years old. I wasn’t allowed to use my parents’ computer without extensive blocks until I was like 13 or 14, and even then, it’s not like I knew what to search for. My science teacher taught us to be critical of climate change research, for god’s sake. So I believed them.

Funny story. You know how I collect tarot decks now, right? lmao I was taught to be so scared of them when I was a kid. Not just by the uber religious ones, either! Even the moderate ones! Straight-up “this is witchcraft, you’re playing with dangerous forces, you’re letting Satan in”, etc. My first semester of college, my roommate pulled out her tarot deck to play with her friends and I LEFT THE ROOM. Like this was a thing. And then I kind of accidentally fell into all the religion and witchcraft classes and the rest is history. (I’d been interested in ancient religions before then, and also historical magic, and my parents were kind of :/ about that sometimes. Myths were fine as long as I knew they were False Stories, but the occult stuff, hmmm. They were a lot more :/ when I came home like Hard Agnostic lmao. They let me keep doing it, though, bless them.)

College was great because I finally got alternative history and politics and I learned how much bullshit I’d been taught, but I mean. It’s not like it was perfect. Before my classes even started, I tried to make friends with some lesbians who were already active in our school’s LGBT house and they were talking the usual biphobic shit. You know, you can’t trust them, they’ll cheat on you, they’re only interested in men, they only experiment in college and then marry the nearest dick, etc. So I guess. That was kind of a wake-up call. I always assumed that as soon as I got away from my family and Florida, everything would be fine and I could find a group where everyone would accept me. Easier said than done, I guess. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that all the letters of whatever word salad we’re using today all shit on each other all the time. And that’s exhausting.

Anyway, I’ve said it before and I’ve said it again. The hardest part about growing up religious is even figuring out what to ask about once you get out. Once you realize that you’ve been lied to, like... What else was a lie? How deep does this go? What should I even be questioning? This natural history thing was wrong, what about this other thing? Was this historical fact a lie? Holy shit, there was an entire civil rights movement for PWD? Like how do you even google Stonewall if you’ve never heard the name?

idk. I mostly started this post bc I realized I made it sound like my entire family was All Homophobia And Sexphobia All The Time, but like. I guess it was (and still is) like that with my extended family, but it wasn’t always like that with my parents. Don’t get me wrong, they were super clear that they did not want me to be gay and they didn’t believe gay people deserved the same rights as straight people, but they also told me that I didn’t have to be as freaked out about sex as my grandmother. (They told me that I should enjoy sex -- but only after I was married! To a man! I’d dated a long time! To have any other sex is to devalue it and disrespect myself and I’d get divorced and probably die in a ditch or something. Of AIDS. The fun is a pleasant side effect of making babies, okay?? So in other words, they were like 1000% better than my grandmother!!!) I think dad had a gay friend when I was little, but he never talked about her to me until I was an adult. So again. 1000% better than my grandmother.

They’ve uh. They’ve improved. They don’t tell me that I need to beware of bisexual people anymore, which is uh. Great. They are all in favor of marriage equality now. They have come around to me being queer. Mom especially is really, really trying, which I appreciate. She just grew up in a radically Christian environment (like as in she had to listen to Donny Osmond in secret bc her mom said it was devil music) and she had to do a lot of unlearning herself for her own mental health.

....seriously tho guys I have family members who like. think it’s ungodly to cut their hair and wear makeup. I GOT THOSE.

#just me #.#..#...#....#cw:#homophobia #sexism #a fundie upbringing will honestly fuck you up so hard #I can't express how weird and insular it was #I don't think I met an atheist until I was in middle school and I couldn't get my head around it #even my parents were the type to think that atheists couldn't have any moral grounding so like. yikes.#though as I've gotten older and talked to my mom more the more I realized she wasn't exactly a True Believer like dad was

4 notes · View notes

kimmiherself · 3 years

Text

CHAPTER TWO: THE BEGINNING

It was almost the end of the first half of the school year. Examinations were coming up. Projects piling up. As the editor-in-chief, I still hadn't finished working on our school paper, which was almost due for release. School activities were also lining up, waiting to be planned. To my friends' distaste, I also became the president of our student organization. We all knew I wasn't the best candidate for the position, but I won anyway. My small group of friends at school thought I was kind of immature and way too emotional—definitely a cry-baby—to handle a responsibility as big as that, considering I had to lead the entire high school. Well, I didn't believe I was immature but I had to agree I was a little sensitive, but the points to my grades mattered so much to me that I couldn't care less.

It was barely noon and my morning classes weren't finished yet, but there I was, lying uncomfortably in one of the beds in the school clinic, bothered by both the warm compress the nurse laid over my lower abdomen and the pain it was trying to relieve. I loathed the cramps that came with the monthly visits. When your stomach felt like it was being twisted into knots and being squeezed out of its life, it could do more than dampen one's day. But if I were to look at more tasks left unticked in my notepad, I'd rather embrace the physical pain and thank the heavens for the blessing in disguise. I badly needed the break.

The pain had been coming and going for the last hour but it sure was becoming more and more bearable each passing minute. And I was starting to get bored too. I tried sleeping but it wasn't working at all so I settled with fiddling with the mobile device in my hands. It wasn't the hottest cellphone in the market but it was a gift from my father and was better than most of my classmates'. It had a built-in camera that I barely used. I tried taking photos of myself in private a couple of times but I never learned to like any of them. In fact, I cringed at those horrible selfies. I filled my gallery with girlish wallpapers and cute GIFs instead. It also didn't have an MP3 player like the very high-end ones but it had ringtones of some of my favorite love songs, enough to entertain me.

But that day it seemed like nothing was working for me. I went to check my inbox for unread messages. There was none. I scanned through them and found Matthew's long list of sweet messages that I'd like to read over and over again, along with some inspirational quotes from my friends. One text caught my attention, though. It simply said hello but it lacked the appropriate punctuation mark and the first letter wasn't even capitalized. Coming from an unknown number, it was weird that I hadn't deleted it yet. I knew texts needed not to have proper structure and grammar but I still preferred it that way. Matthew didn't have a problem with that since he was also as particular as me in that department.

I'd barely respond to unknown numbers, especially if their texts looked stupid and offensive to my eyes—grammar-wise, that was why I was so surprised with myself when I typed, "I don't usually talk to strangers, but who are you?" and sent it back to that unknown number.

I really wasn't expecting anything from that number and started sending Matthew some messages next. I missed talking to him. He mostly never responded to my messages and I couldn't even call him. I'd hate to take so much of his time that I hardly ever called and I especially hated it when the calls got rejected. Aside from having a hectic schedule, Matthew needed money and he couldn't always afford to buy prepaid load for his phone. And I understood that. I just really missed him. When I bought him prepaid load one time, it just didn't end well for me. I probably even offended him. So I learned to wait...and wait.

My phone suddenly chimed.

1 new message received flashed on my screen.

I readjusted my back so I could settle comfortably and quickly pressed the ok button, hoping to see Matthew's reply.

It wasn't his.

"Not a stranger, just Raven Maude," I read the text from the unknown number. Scrunching my nose, I typed, "I'll decide on that," and paused, thinking where I heard that name. "Well, I know one Maude. Her name's Cathy." We didn't go to the same high school but Cathy's from my village and everyone around there seemed to just know each other. One of my friends from the village had a crush on her too so whenever we met, she was almost always part of our conversations.

I barely waited when my phone chimed again. Surely, it was from the stranger. It said, "She's actually my little sister. Jeje..."

I cringed at the last part of his text. Emojis weren't a thing yet in 2007 so you really had to spell out your laughs in texts, but I preferred h for haha or hehe over their j counterparts. The latter bothered me a lot. Wait...did he just say she was his sister? "Huh," I puffed out. He just pointed out two things. One, he couldn't be a total stranger when I knew one of his kin. Two, I was a moron thinking I knew everyone in my village.

I tried to picture him out in my head. Although petite, Cathy was pretty good-looking so he couldn't have deviated that far if they were truly siblings. Then I remembered there was one time, a few years ago, some of those kids in the village talked about Cathy's brother, whose name I didn't even care to know, and they giggled as they did so. I was curious for like five seconds and went on with my life. I never even got to see his face. It's weird how we never bumped into each other in the village until now.

"Really? Small world," I started typing my reply. "By the way, where did you get my number?" I asked, not at all amused that someone shared my personal information without my permission.

He said it was Marie, another common friend of ours from the village. "I saw you with her and your other friends in the plaza a few weeks ago. I asked her for your number. I hope you don't mind...with your aversion to strangers and all."

I rolled my eyes but decided to let go of that comment. Indeed, there was a recent community event in the village square and I was invited by Marie and her group to perform one dance with them. I hadn't caught on the steps yet and I was lucky the lights went out and didn't get to perform in the end. It sure would be embarrassing especially now that I learned there was someone behind those throng of expectators whose eyes were on me for at least a moment.

"It's fine. You're only half a stranger after all," I said, without fully meaning it. I looked at his first message once again and realized it had been sitting there on my phone for a few weeks now. I wondered if he thought I was a snob. Not that it mattered. I knew this was just a hi-and-bye encounter, just two people who belonged to the same community nodding at each other's way to acknowledge their existence.

My phone chimed yet again. "Good. Now we're friends."

********************************************

Raven didn't warn me how clingy he was for a friend. We sent each other messages more than friends usually did—at least, more than I texted my friends. We easily got past awkward introductions and dove right into casual conversations that had started to become a routine. Mornings started with greetings and ended with, "Have you had your lunch yet?" Nights were filled with a cannonade of questions about each other and always ended with either a good-night or a sleep-well.

I knew it was unfair of me to compare Matthew with Raven but I couldn't help but wonder how amazing it would be if my boyfriend showed me as much attention as Raven did. I sighed, reminding myself that Matthew was not just a college student but also a part-time employee of a fastfood chain, which implied he had way more important things to do than waste time on his phone. Besides, he asked me to give him time and wait for us to be together; I shouldn't be feeling resentful. But talking to Raven had been a pleasant experience and, though I still missed my boyfriend, my nights had started to become less lonely than they used to be.

By the end of the week, I learned that Raven was a freshman in college in the same city as Matt's. He wanted to become either a civil engineer or a seafarer but, by his mother's persuasion, ended up taking a two-year course in Hotel and Restaurant Management. He said his mother thought his aim was too high. He didn't graduate at the top of his class in high school but he wasn't dumb either. It's a shame he didn't even get to try it out.

I learned that Raven didn't have a favorite color and that was weird. Who didn't have a favorite color? Like even the slightest bias to one or two? Raven just didn't think it mattered. He liked playing the guitar, though. In fact, he just bought one, out of his savings from his school allowance and other sidelines. He didn't mention he worked part-time so I wondered what those were.

Raven also talked about basketball, saying it's that one thing he really was passionate about. I knew nothing about it and thought it was crazy to go home almost every weekend for a game or two. Basketball leagues, according to him, topped the sports activities in our district. Leagues were hosted everywhere and Raven and his team wouldn't dare miss one. He even mentioned he would've been in the seminary already instead of his current school if that one big game didn't fall on the same day as his departure. It appalled me how he could just easily make big decisions and outright change plans just to suit his schedule. It was so not my cup of tea.

"It's funny, you know," Raven said once over the phone.

"What?"

"That you say you've never seen me when we've had several encounters already."

That piqued my curiosity. "Really? I don't recall ever meeting you."

"No, you haven't," he said. "But when you were little—we were little, I used to see you with your uncle all the time in their farm. I'm friends with his nephews, you know."

"Really?" I gasped. I hoped he didn't catch me in those moments when I was stuffing my mouth with so much fruit that I could barely chew them, because the food was all the reason why I stuck around my uncle and their family's farm. But who could resist fruits, right, especially my favorites, Durian and Rambutan?

"And we also used to play basketball in front of your house. There's like a makeshift basketball ring there, if you haven't noticed. Whenever you came home from your school, you would just walk right in front of us—with that gigantic luggage you call your school bag, your head always down, never looking at anyone."

That made me chuckle. "I'm sorry I'm such a snob," I replied, feigning remorse. "I'm just not comfortable walking through a crowd." A crowd of boys, especially. I just tried to be as invisible as I could be. I knew I would just embarrass myself like tripping over or something if I knew someone was looking at me. I just knew it. Yes, I was a dancer and I performed on stage with enough confidence and grace, but as soon as the performance ended, I quickly went back to being shy, awkward, and clumsy.

"It's funny how you squirmed whenever the ball rolled towards your feet," he said with a laugh.

"It's called a reflex, Raven!" I exclaimed, shuddering at the recollection. I didn't have any phobia with balls but I couldn't help but picture my impending demise whenever it came near me, considering my rather inept ability of handling surprises. I just knew that a time would come when I'd finally trip over that evil orb and fall down on my knees, my white skirt uniform flying over my head and showing my bum, and everyone would just laugh at me. I shuddered at the thought. "Everything would be fine as long as the ball and I kept our distance from each other," I whispered to myself.

Raven didn't seem to hear that. "You never noticed how the world would seem to stop whenever you walked past us, do you?"

I snorted, but I felt the heat creep up my cheeks. "Now you're just being silly, Mr. Raven Maude!"

"Seriously, Kier..." My name just sounded a little strange coming from him. But not in a creepy way. It just sounded a little soft and sweet and it made me feel a little warm and fuzzy. Great! I rolled my eyes at the thought. "A lot of boys like you, Kiera." He paused then added, "But we all know you're like the stars...twinkling at us from up the sky but impossible to reach."

"Yeah, right..." I chuckled nervously, pushing away the thoughts that came flooding with the we and us from his last statement. "You're just exagerrating things, Raven, because that's not probable. They don't even know me and, mind you, no one has ever asked me out." Even at school, no one really shows interest in me...well, except for Aaron, but he's already moved on to the next girl.

"That's the thing, Kier. You're different from the rest of the girls. Everyone knows you're that pretty, smart, and talented girl—who barely comes down from her castle to mingle with us, commoners," he paused to chuckle. "But no one really knows you. You're like a mystery waiting to be solved," he continued, causing tiny drums to start playing inside my chest. "But everyone's scared of the unknown, so..."

"So everyone's scared of me?" I said, laughing.

He laughed too, then paused for a while before saying, "I'm not."

I didn't know when or how but those tiny drums were now accompanied by other instruments that my chest had morphed into a grand venue for an elaborate orchestra. And it was overwhelming. Too overwhelming that I started to feel nauseated. What am I doing? I didn't know if it could be called flirting but Raven and I were becoming more than casual friends. And this most definitely wasn't a hi-and-bye encounter! I realized I had been responding to his messages all too eagerly and began looking forward to those everytime my phone beeped. I also didn't have a problem answering to his phone calls even at school. I knew Matthew wouldn't be too thrilled about this new friend of mine, especially if he knew he never really surfaced in our conversations. I was a terrible liar and I wouldn't deliberately lie. It's just that Raven never asked me about having a boyfriend. And I never did ask him too. A girlfriend, I meant. I didn't ask him if he had a girlfriend. We were just being friendly to each other and there was no harm in that. And I thought it was probably just me and my obsession with love stories that I had started thinking about a budding romance between the two of us. I was probably just reading too much into things.

********************************************

Semestral break was now days ahead, just the breather that I needed. Examinations were almost done and there I was with the group of dancers at my school, practicing for our presentation to be showcased during the opening of the week-long inter-school sports competition for next month. Dancing was what I loved, next to reading books and sketching portraits. I'd easily get lost to music and beautiful movements. It made me feel free. And nothing was more freeing than dancing contemporary under a new choreographer for the event, which was a challenge that my group and I accepted wholeheartedly. Plus, I couldn't play sports. I was clumsy that I'd either miss serving a volleyball or get hit in the face with a basketball. The only way I could get those points from sports events was through cheering and dancing.

When we had had enough pirouettes and toe touch jumps, my friends and I slumped into the floor to rest. "I can't wait for the semestral break," most of them murmured. I also looked forward to creeping into my bed without body aches and waking up without a worry in the world. Just as my heartbeat started slowing down from racing and my sweats stopped pouring, my cellphone rang.

I turned rigid. I didn't have many people calling me. There's just my mom, actually. Matthew barely even texted. And there's...Raven.

My heart raced once again as I rummaged through my bag to look for my phone. When I finally found it, he really didn't disappoint. I ran outside the room to answer his call, my friends' curious eyes on me.

"Hi," I said through ragged breaths. When I realized Raven and I had been constantly on the phone to text each other, I tried to pull back and refocused my attention to school and Matthew. I hadn't heard from him for a while and this was so unexpected it kind of made me all flushed. I tried to sound a little less excited but I couldn't help my lips from twitching into a full-blown smile.

"Hello, Kiera..." he answered, his voice just as rasped and as sweet as I remembered it. It was weird that I could imagine him smiling behind that voice. And I hadn't even seen him yet. "Where are you?"

"School," I answered shortly.

"Isn't it your semestral break already?" he asked, his voice still making me feel all the fuzzy feelings I first had with Matthew.

I shook my head but felt stupid for doing it over the phone. "Not yet. I still have a couple of days or so. Why do you ask?"

I heard him chuckle. "I'm going home, Kier."

"Y-Yeah?" I murmured, my heart now beating erratically. I didn't know why but the thought of this person, whom I had shared a lot of conversations with over the phone for the last few weeks, coming home and probably wanting to see me felt like a really bad idea but one I still wanted to succumb to. "So you're done with your first semester in college?"

"Absolutely, maam," he said in a more playful tone. "And I can't wait to go home..."

He dragged his last word that I thought he still had something else to say, but there was nothing. I was glad our conversations still remained completely platonic and innocent. "That's great, Rave. Congratulations!"

"Thanks!" I imagined him grinning as he said that.

"So when is this great homecoming?"

He chuckled. "Soon," he said. "I'll see you when I see you."

I laughed too. "Sure," I answered. "I'll see you when I see you too."

The call didn't last long. He only wanted to say he was coming home and it left me feeling weak on the knees. I was scared of seeing him, of fully realizing that he was a real person and not just a figment of my imagination...and that I had been entertaining someone else, even if it was hardly romantic, behind Matthew's back. My excitement died down a little.

I went back to the room, my head still wrapped up around Raven's impending homecoming. I didn't realize what my face looked like until André, my gay best friend, shot me a curious look and asked, "What's with that grinning face? It's annoying!" I went to him and slumped giddily beside him. "Who was that?"

"Matthew..." I answered with a slight shrug of my shoulders.

"Uh-huh? If you say so," he said, his eyes still pierced on mine, telling me what a terrible liar I was.

Nobody knew about Raven because I didn't want my friends telling me that what I was doing was wrong especially when there was really nothing between Raven and I. I knew they wouldn't believe that. Even I have my doubts too. But Raven and I never crossed a line, which was what really mattered, and his presence in my life was a breath of fresh air I didn't realize I was craving so much. And again, I might have been just imagining things that weren't really there. Raven was a college student who probably had a lot of beautiful college girls flocking around him. He might even have a girlfriend waiting for him too. I just knew him through our text messages and calls but I didn't really know him that much. I was stupid to think of anything other than a platonic relationship between us but it also somehow felt disappointing, which scared me a lot because that would be validating I somehow felt something for him. Even just a little. And it would crush Matthew.

Oh, Matthew...

I had never been more guilty in my life.

#novel writing #love story #romance

0 notes

actingdeep · 3 years

Text

Jean & Cat

Give me your hand. Only give 'yes' or 'no' answers for now. We will go back later at the end. Close your eyes. I'm going to start by saying the Lord's Prayer. "Okay." That was all Lorraine could say these days. She would eat oatmeal when we set a bowl for her and she would smile. We put a red cigarette in her fingers and told her to inhale. She would cough twice in an elderly way, with sunken eyes staring straight forward, and she would smile. We shifted our intimate yet quaint and twisted car songs and dialogues to the back porch around 6 a.m., after tiptoeing past conked couple Jean and Ryan crashing on their living room floorbed, making coffee, using the restroom and watering the silly-looking dog. There is a very alien type of relaxation that comes with being the last ones alive from a late night civil war on your own good health, with everyone else defenseless and asleep like regrettable casualties. The horizon stretched and yawned. Past our feet, in the dew-covered grass, layed the sheepdoglike Lily, with her green bone flinging around her teeth. Cat had abilities within her revealing dormant truths and hidden pasts in others. I had amphetamines within me releasing all boring skepticism and reason. By the end of the night, she had given me a personal palm reading. The accuracy was daunting at first (and still is). It was a superstitious and almost laughable act, yes; but it was pinnacle altruism--and at that moment, after all these years, it was finally clear to me that she was my friend. I was feeling a little effete as a hidden star burnished the scale of an overripe and infirm world. Cat and I had inadvertently stayed up all night. We were either still drunk, or low-key tweaking, or probably both. Our eager spirits were about to be given another boost out of their usual pockets of time and space. We lounged with sleepless energy in squat gray outdoor chairs on the small back porch, with blowing trees and birds singing in the early summer morning. Jean had already long fallen asleep on her living room floorbed, and now that I finally had Cat out of the car, I could let my blood cool between easy nature and cheap science. The dome of the pipe we were smoking Annie from caught some outside debris from the wind that was blowing and made a slight brownish blemish on the inside, which made the taste of the rolling smoke a little less clean than the previous hits. Many a time when Jean and I were gulping down cherry-flavored vodka around this time six or seven years ago, in the bedroom right behind Cat's, when they still had their old house, I had never fathomed a table could turn so drastically: the table being my relationship with these two women--mother and daughter--over time frames scattered and separated by intermittent spaces of buildup and decay. The days when talking to Cat filled me with dread seemed like false memories when I looked at her now. I almost liked her more than Jean these days--a funny thought, indeed. "Are you still hungry?" "Okay." At 4 a.m. we were back from the bar, and pulled in the driveway of Jean's grandparent's house. She struggled to shut her car door and sauntered inside. I followed, but before I made it in the house, I heard my name called back from behind me from the driveway. I turned to see Cat gesturing for me under the dim car light. She was looking around in the car for something I don't remember what. I got back in to help her search for something likely of the highest unimportance. As we began to talk more, we ended up being in the car for at least an hour. When Cat begins to chatter with you, an angel should come down from Headache Heaven to give you a Valium and a bucket of popcorn. We hadn't talked very much all night, only because once she dropped off Jean and I at the bar, she didn't come in to join us finally until around the last half hour we were there, where I would eventually start a scene that would close the entire bar for the night. We laughed about that, and caught up with one another in general about the changes and differences in our respective current lives. Her overall pleasantness caught me off-guard, somewhat. As conversations in parked vehicles usually go, especially with our current bodily chemical states, we eventually graduated from serious discussion, to banter, to no words--just full duet performances to bands like The Violent Femmes and Fleetwood Mac, stridulate and true. This is nothing like using Tarot cards. Those things are complete bull shit. I am going to try to knock something loose here. They're screaming again: this time, passively-aggressively around the edges of the room, little hash symbols and asterisks and ampersands tunneling in the air and in and out of Lorraine's smiling ears. At first, the day was calm: quiet snores, with the T.V. playing The Price is Right, as some were still laid out on the floor asleep, some in chairs with coffee and paper, awake. The small house seemed much more open than it should have been. I watched the game show and sat on the couch next to Brenda, Cat's girlfriend, as she was scrolling her finger on a phone screen and grimacing a little. Jean's disheveled head was zzzing right next to my left foot. I put back large gulps of the coffee Brenda made me to put off my ineludible crash, and had cigarettes on the bright, thin clean carpet. Brenda started it; it was around 11:30 a.m. Grunting, she staggered over to Cat's floorbed to lean down, and WHUP!, smack her on her overturned body, making her yelp in a terrible way, like a little, running dog that pivoted wrong and twisted it's paw. Some moments you don't want to ever remember--that is--until you really can't. She had only been asleep for about twenty minutes, and immediately: "Fuck! What is...what is wrong with you?" cried Cat, still stridulate. "Who's all these motherfuckers in yer phone messagin' ya? Always fuckin' around on me, ain't ya? Don't give a rat's ass about me." "I don't talk to anyone, Brenda. I don't know what the fuck you're talking about!" "Ah, bull shit," waved Brenda, turning away like a troll. "Fuck you!" "Fuck you right back, bitch." "I haven't gotten any sleep all night, Brenda. I was up talking to Derek all night, and I just fucking fell asleep." "Well, good morning bitch!" And so on. This match lasted hours; piercing echoes branching off into littler sub-arguments (but just as loud) over other things they thought would be good also brought up, neither showing mercy, except to make a jeer and cackle at the other's expense. Dan had already taken Ryan to his morning college class and hadn't gotten back yet, so between sleeping Jean, contented Lorraine, and highly tired I, no one was attempting to dampen the vicious quarrel in any way. I was sitting quietly, looking down at my feet and Jean's stirring hair ball, not from lack of sleep, but from the plain child greenness of these two women. I knew Cat as a married woman to a husband, once. But no surprise came to me when I met her current girlfriend (womanfriend). I knew this was more of an emotionally-hinged relationship and sexually less so; only the emotions in use were nothing but petulant combativeness, desperation, and cold resentment; they were fools together. After a while, crash impending, I would simply walk outside, away from it all, until the screams muffled themselves in the distance. "Okay." Dan was the man of the house, and also Cat's dad. He was a few years shy of sixty years. Although I had never met him before, having stayed the night at his house, he was quite jolly and approachable. He smoked cigarettes with the front door open. His wife Lorraine sat by him in a low-back rocking chair, onlooking. The rooms of the house were typical in the grandparently sense: white-gold ceiling fan, porcelain figurines behind glass cases, mini fish tank, placemats on multiple kitchen tables, a smiling woman sitting in a smiling rocking chair, big television. The only thing out of place was the smoking; it was a subtle invasion of a seemingly innocent atmosphere, akin to squeezing your girlfriend's ass at church service. I couldn't believe I was smoking a square on a davenport. Did you know the dead see the future? Back in school, when Jean and I dated as teenagers, her mother Cat was in a seriously disobliging state--dependent on drugs like Xanax and methadone. She would stay in her room twenty-four seven and roar at us to turn the music down. She only left the house when absolutely necessary, and had a round, evil scorn forever in her floating eyes. She was ponderous, choleric and painstakingly contrary, instigating daily screaming matches with her husband, or daughter, or both. She was always in carping pain, and loved to spite her old pasts to herself in drugged, futile insanity. When she would bring her mom her dinner trays, Jean usually took accusation and insult as gratuity. On the occasions she was in good spirits (which usually implied she was unusually zapped), she would talk to you for what seemed like long hours about things like ghosts or glory days if you weren't careful to sneak past her bedroom door, which was permanently ajar, with a low, rambling sound leaking out of it always. I loved being in Jean's room more than anywhere in those days. I remember a pink sheet covering an overhead window making every movement and shadow a cotton candy daydream, sitting on a stack of two single mattresses, with us both leaning against a wall with blanketed legs and her kitten, soft and white between us, with secret, window eyes. And there would be Jean: beautiful and youthful in blonde and black and pink and brown eyes. She was in the school's color guard and I would watch her practice double and triple rifle spins in her backyard for hours, smoking dirt weed to her music playlists. We were underage drinkers; but she always had a guy to buy alcohol for us (to them, just her), and once he would drop it off, she would cutely thank him and send him away, bringing it into her room where I waited, and we would drink from the bottle, giggling; or, we would just stay in her room for hours to avoid Cat by playing music, taking pictures, or just making each other laugh hysterically in various ways. I hope I never forget that laugh. "Okay, honey." We carried our drinks over to a rounded booth in the corner and talked for a while, saying hello to the barkeep Stephen as we walked in, and to all the other puffy, smiling faces we recognized, but didn't know. It was just Jean and I right now, talking like we always could, no matter where or when we ever were. Apparently, Cat was sticking around the parking lot for a while to connect to the internet on her phone for something rather (or was she?), and selling soupcons of various pills here and there to her bar regular buddies, amiably, with wrinkled eye corners. Something is coming through. A man with a flattop military haircut. I also see an older man sitting in an easy chair. How well do you remember your childhood? Does the name Tom mean anything to you? Jean and I sat near the DJ booth, which wasn't really a booth inasmuch as it was a large man sitting in a folding chair with a laptop. We laughed, but were loving what he was playing. Her and I have always been able to listen to music together comfortably for long periods of time, often with naps and cool silences. In the moment, I felt that we were actually a good couple when we were seventeen, even though it only lasted a couple weeks, tops; but being friends was barely different, and easy to do. She had many boyfriends, one at a time, in constant replicating sequences--one, and another, and another. I never minded that--it is a task for most people to be alone. Ryan was her current boyfriend, but she didn't bring him to the bar--and not just because he was underage. She used men like a body pillow or an aspirin; leave them at the house and use them for comfort as needed (and they were always young). She was dull now. I had to entertain her because she was dull, and I loved her; but of course, in loving her, I was dull, also. After some rounds, we would smile more easily. I asked when her mom was going to join us, because, to this point, I really had no clue as to what Cat was even doing, us having sat there drinking, unjoined for an hour or two now. "She's in the car, smoking speed. That's her drug of choice now." After I gave off a questioning look, she continued: "I really don't mind it. I mean, at least she can function." Hmmm. I rounded my eyes, and curled my wet lips. I excused myself, and bolted outside towards the car. I knew Cat would share; greed a moral hit-man. The dim car light was on across the street. After twenty minutes or so, I sat back down in the booth and readjusted my eyes, feeling fresh. Jean was standing by the DJ booth. "Do you take requests?" "I take donations." An older woman with a strained gait and a proud, pauper air waddled up to our booth and gave a friendly hello-how-are-you to Jean, but not to me. Jean had a subtle knack for being pleasurable and forebearing to humdrum dishwater persons, the subjective soul inside me under a spell of well whiskey, and also Cat's treat, slowly making my thoughts increasingly insubordinate here. "Aye! A Jeanie in a bottle!" "Hi, it's good to see you." (No it isn't. She's foul!) "Been missin' ya round this place. Where ya been, girly?" "Just working, and taking care of grandma." "Oh, bless your heart! How is she? (She's okay.) "Y'know--good days and bad days." (Too bad this Jeanie can't grant wishes; she'd make it no days.) At one point, I reached over and took a sip out of Jean's beer bottle. The woman slowly straightened her mouth and furrowed her brow, glaring at me. "You're disrespectful." "I bought this. I've bought all her drinks." A cheap maneuver. She turned to Jean: "You should find better friends." I saw Jean's mouth twitch a little, then turn up again. "This is my oldest friend," she defended me cooly, with an undertone of hate only I could detect. I smiled at the woman as if to say, "How about that?" She had a countenance that was one part protectiveness for Jean, another part antipathy for me, and a third part, something I couldn't place, but that was definitely for herself. "It's okay, honey, he's really okay," said Jean sedatively. Jean looked more allayed than I was once the woman had eventually returned to her table. The front door was slowly staving off tottering bodies as the night bloomed into day. As she passed by them, coming back in from a cigarette, Jean looked up and noticed an old school friend of hers, who was talking to a man that happened to be sitting right next to me, at the far end of the bar. This made her face light right up, I noticed, which contented me quite well, as Jean in general wasn't particularly boisterous. She skipped up to the old friend and gave a kind and delighted hello. But this girl was obviously completely disinterested in her, and gave her a lowbred, patronizing sneer. "Okay." Freshly cold-shouldered, Jean rubbed her arms, and became specially downcast, then: this was not okay. Seeing her so depreciated so abruptly sparked a most tender agony within me that would prod my heart, even under the many obtunding whiskeys I had imbibed over the night. I called the insipid girl's attention, and seconds later, she looked up at me, and when she looked up at me, I vengefully, and without restriction, said: "What kind of rude, phony, fucking bitch are you?" Her body didn't move, but her fingers and face started to contort as she glared at me. She dropped her jaw a little, and then clenched it, and widened her thick, black eyes as a fire rose in them. Jean stood back a little, and the girl began to defend herself in belligerent fury, while I held my own ground in the meantime. Every sentence she spoke bumbled over the next; she was clearly plastered, and in rage. I continued to fuel that rage as I rebounded spurring insults like "Fuck you!" and "What do you know?" with gibes like "I can't! I'm outta cash!" and "Fish swim, birds fly, and you're a cunt!" This soon started a mini-uproar on that end of the bar, and very quickly had all the remaining bar-goers perking up from their glasses. Some people began to hover nearby us gingerly, in case of the possibility that things could get physical, as her and I continued to altercate, teams now forming behind us. After about three more minutes of her drunkenly calling me names and I relentlessly making fun of her for being fake and angry, the bartender Stephen kicked her out. He was good friends with Jean (a regular there), and had saw us together all night, and must have been partial. He told the friends of the girl I accosted, now a tornado of nails and hair and fury, body still unmoved, to take her outside, and so they did. He locked the doors, then turned to give me a face of exhausted vitriol. I still sat there at the long bar next to my friend Cat, the medium, and her deservedly defended daughter, one of my most nascent and esteemed loves from years and years ago. Because of our mutual friend Jean, he would only give me a little hell for causing such a row, and I gave him a most disingenuous apology. We reset and regrouped, and were soon out the door. What a perfect pleasure it is to mislay all complacency and trepidation, and to actuate defiance in the face of all of our false, permeable cordialities, and to see just how easily it can all fall away. To feel what I did to be an imperative as to glorify a strayed memory of a forgotten devotion only moreover authenticates my conviction that the ways we go, and the happenings in our lives, occur for no reason at all but for our own attempts at nullifying an unavoidable and steadfast state of lifelong suffering. Jean thanked me for standing up for her, and gifted me an old look and smile that, so many years ago, I would have never believed I had forgotten. "Okay."

0 notes

booksaremyoxygenn · 6 years

Text

Ready Player One: Book Review & Discussion

“We’d been born into an ugly world, and the OASIS was our one happy refuge.”

If you love video games and the 80s, you MUST read this book. USA Today’s comparison of Ready Player One to Willie Wonka & the Chocolate Factory couldn't have been more spot on, but instead of the inheritance of a man who owns a chocolate factory he is playing for the inheritance of a video game creator.

Overall Rating: 4.5 / 5 Stars

My biggest argument is that because there was so much info and teaching about the 80s and video game references it felt choppy and it was hard to get lost in the book. However I absolutely loved learning all of those fascinating pieces of information. There were surprisingly many great life lessons in this book and I feel like I am walking away more knowledgeable.

Age Recommendation: Well.... it depends on the child. It does curse a few times (but let’s be honest the kids already know the words, the aim isn’t for them not to learn it but to know not to use it.) However there is a bit of a lengthy section on things I would not even want my 13 year old sister reading on 193-194 so I recommend you take their book, rip that page out and then they are all ready to go. They will never even miss it. I think there are great life lessons in this book though for a young teen age group like the importance of logging off and living offline and not getting wrapped up in trying to constantly escape the real world. It talks about how people should be judged by their personality not their appearance. If we could simply choose out skin color, gender, and appearance like an avatar, life would be easier but life doesn’t work that way so accept people the way they are. You may surprise yourself with who your closest friends up being.

Spoiler- Free Review:

Wade just really doesn’t like his lot in life, whether that be in the real world when he’d rather be in a video game or that he is in the 2040s when he’d rather be born in the the 80s, or at the least before the Global Energy Crisis. Though he doesn’t mind living in OASIS soaking up the endless knowledge. The vast source of all books, movies, art, history, videogames, and, most importantly, information on James Halliday. OASIS is like the internet but with VR glasses only 10x more detailed, advanced, and infinite. Wade doesn’t even go to a real school he goes through the virtual reality of OASIS. “In OASIS, you could become whomever and whatever you wanted to be, without ever revealing your true identity, because your anonymity was guaranteed.” (pg 57) When James Halliday, inventor of OASIS, dies and leaves his fortune (240 billion dollars) to the first player to find the three keys hidden within his own video game, the world goes crazy in pursuit. Though after numerous years no one had found a single key, until Wade. That’s how the story begins.

I loved that Cline’s writing encourages readers who know nothing about the 80s or video games to read this book. That has been a massive concern for people before they pick up this book, that they won’t understand the references. To be honest, there were many hidden “eggs” in the text that I saw that I knew were references that I just didn’t understand. (Which was still cool and I enjoyed looking them up and learning more.) However, all of the big, important references he explains in the book and he doesn’t make you feel stupid for not knowing but explains it clearly for those of us who aren’t experts. I genuinely feel more intelligent by reading this book and now know a lot more about pop culture in the 80s. Who knows this all may come in handy on Trivia Night? I highly recommend this book for a fun, nostalgic read.

SPOILER Review / Book Discussion:

Isn’t it scary how possible this all could be? With virtual reality continually advancing (in real life) how much longer will it take until people go to school in virtual reality like Wade or before the internet takes on this new form?

Though obviously in Wade’s world as technology has advanced his real world has been given up on. The stacks, while a great concept and super cool looking on the front cover, are atrocious living conditions. Though I must give Wade kutos on his battery powered heater and computer but really just his van in general. It makes me want to make my own Bat Cave inside a van. This was when I knew what his advantage would be in this game, he was a self-teacher, self-motivator, and dedicated his whole life to the hunt.

One of my favorite parts about Cline’s writing was how it was constantly breaking stereotypes and speaking about important topics. I really appreciated the backstory that he gave Halliday. Especially how even though he wasn’t good at school he became a multi-billionaire. I am so tired of the assumption that being good at school has a direct correlation with future success. So many people who have changed the world never went to college, dropped out, or did poorly in high school. Another thing that I loved was the fact that this whole story wouldn’t have happened if Ogden Marrow (Og) wouldn’t have walked over to Halliday when he was sitting alone and invited him to play Dungeons and Dragons. It reminds me how much can change by a simple act of kindness and stepping out of your comfort zone to talk to new people. This whole story wouldn’t have happened, their world may have been drastically different if it wasn’t for Og’s invite. My favorite part though was how he had Asperger’s autism because my older brother has it as well and I could see the connections. Halliday’s lack of desire to express social skills, inability to step into other people’s shoes, and his few unhealthy obsessions were the most common traits. However I wish he wouldn’t have made the connections between Halliday’s crazy side and his Aspergers because that gives a bad name to this type of autism. (I mean you can’t win every battle right?)

One thing that really bothered my is how indifferent Wade was to risking everyone’s lives in the Stacks during his meeting with IOI. Once he realized he wasn’t actually gambling his own life because he wasn’t at home then it didn’t bother him anymore. He was willing to risk that. I understand that his aunt was cruel to him and that there were thieves and rapists roaming around the stacks but that’s not a good enough excuse as to why his conscious was clear about all those people he played a part in murdering. He said that there were no survivors. I understand that his other option was be enslaved to IOI but he is very smart, he could have figured out an alternative where hundreds of uninvolved people don’t die. (pg 146)

I personally love when authors put deep meaning into characters, places, animals and other things’ names. I loved that Art3mis was the greek god of the hunt and that Wade was Parzival. “On the day the Hunt began, the day I’d decided to become a gunter, I’d renamed my avatar Parzival, after the knight of Arthurian legend who had found the Holy Grail.” (pg 28) I love when author’s twist different stories together like that and give character’s deeply meaningful names. Like Alaska in John Green’s Looking for Alaska, or Katniss from The Hunger Games whose name is from a plant that is latin for archer. I prefer a bit more meaning than when Rainbow Rowell named the twins in Fangirl Cath and Wren because the mother didn’t know she was going to have twins so she split up the name Catherine. Though I do apprecaite it more than when authors just randomly name thier characters. (Also, Darth Vader’s name is literally Dark Father in Dutch so his name is a spoiler in itself.) I applaud Cline for his good choice in names.

The first task was where players went into the Tomb of Horrors from Dungeons & Dragons to play Joust against Acereak. It was amusing to me but as someone who doesn’t know the first thing about Dungeons and Dragons the references were lost on me. However this line really stuck me as funny..... “It suddenly occurred to me just how absurd this scene was: a guy wearing a suit of armor, standing next to an undead king, both hunched over controls of a classic arcade game.” (pg 82) The whole time after he met Acererak I just imagined him going from his scary, glowing eyes to his best friend playing a video game and them fist bumping each other. Like I genuinely wanted them to become friends. Haha.

The first gate was where players played Dungeons of Daggorath to open the gate where they had to say and act all the lines of the character David Lightman in the film WarGames. This was my favorite task / gate he had to do and I wish I had my own version for The Hunger Games where I could be Katniss. Anyone else agree? They called them “Fliksyncs” (112) and I genuinely think if they make something like it in real life, it could be my favorite invention of all time. You would get to walk, talk, and live the life of your favorite character, your heroes, or be 1/2 of your favorite OTPs. ( I would gladly be Clary to play besides Jace from The Mortal Instruments... just putting it out there.)

A really important message that spread throughout the span of the book was that the internet (OASIS in RPO’s case) can take over our lives. ”It had become a self-imposed prison for humanity,” he wrote, “A pleasant place for the world to hide from its problems while human civilization slowly collapses, primarily due to neglect.” (pg 120) How much truer does that get?? Than once Wade won the egg even Halliday admitted that that was one of his biggest regrets, not logging off and living life the way it was meant to be, truly using your senses and awakening your body instead of constantly trying to mute it and hide yourself. “I created the OASIS because I never felt at home in the real world. I didn’t know how to connect with the people there. I was afraid, for all all of my life. Right up until I knew it was ending. That was when I realized, as terrifying and painful as reality can be. it is also the only place where you can find true happiness. Because reality is real. Do you understand?” (pg 364) I think that is something people across the globe can relate to. We could all use a lesson in learning when to turn off our screens and fully engage in the world around us.

Another really important message was during that OH MY GOSH! AECH REVEAL!.... which at first I felt like it changed everything but that’s the whole point, it didn’t change anything. She was still the same person she had always been. We see what we want to see in a person when we make assumptions about them from what they look like. It’s just a genuine reminder of how the lines between gender are so fluid and it doesn’t matter what you are born but how you act. I’m not even referencing transgender specifically but just boys being free to like pink and girls feeling free to be obsessed with Star Wars and video games. Though there was another lesson in this which was how she chose to be a white, male avatar, because her mother told her it would help her get treated better, even in the virtual world. “In Marie’s opinion, the OASIS was the best thing that had ever happened to both women and people of color. From the very start, Marie has used a white male avatar to conduct all of her online business, because of the marked difference it made in how she was treated and the opportunities she was given.” (pg 320) Why is this so painfully true?? I really loved what Wade said after he found out, “We’d connected on a purely mental level. I understood her, trusted her, and loved her as a friend. None of that had changed, or could be changed by anything as inconsequential as her gender, or skin color, or sexual orientation.” (pg 321) Though I will admit I am glad that Cline made Ache a lesbian because I was worried she was going to confess her love to him and then Wade would have to choose.... and there just wasn’t enough pages left in the book for all that drama. Plus I really love when books allow guys and girls to just be friends without every liking each other romantically.

The final thing, that I wouldn’t dream of ending this review/discussion without talking about is... Art3mis. Can we talk about how she started out such a strong character who was a fighter, independent blogger and full time badass who knows exactly how she plans on saving the world with the prize money from the egg. But then as time goes on she transforms more into a love interest than a fierce competitor. I think she sees this as well which is why she leaves him to focus on the competition. Though at the very end when she finally meets Wade in person she does that thing that Reese Witherspoon talks about in her Woman of the Year speech. Where Art3mis, the female, turns to Wade, the male, and pretty much says, what do we do now? This is a phrase Reese says she hates reading the most and is usually written by scripts with no female involved in the writing. She says “Now you do you know any woman in any crisis situation.. who has absolutely no idea what to do?” Reese made a good point in saying that it’s top woman stop playing the damsel in distress because we so rarely are. Art3mis went from this total badass who could carry her own to a self conscious, love interest. However, I am so glad that Art3mis gave up Wade for the hunt in some ways because if she would have given up her passions and her life long goal for a boy, I would have been more insulted. Personally, I just really like strong, female leads and am getting tired of women being accessories to males. I’m also tired of the never ending line of self conscious characters (both female and male) who find their self worth and beauty once their romantic interests informs them that it exists. So thank you to characters like Celaena Sardothien, Alaska Young, and Margo Roth Spiegelman for showing the world that it’s cool to love yourself and know you are amazing. Though I was still rooting for Art3metis because of her strong will and good intentions for the prize.

In the end everything seemed to fall perfectly in place which made me so happy. No loose threads and a beautiful, sappy, happy ever after. The character development for Wade was so great and I felt happy walking away from this book knowing that things were going well for him.

Favorite Quotes:

1.) How the protagonist, Wade, feels about video games is how I feel about books...

"Playing old video games never failed to clear my mind and set me at ease. If I was feeling depressed or frustrated about my lot in life, all I had to do was tap the Player One button, and my worries would instantly slip away as my mind focused itself on the relentless pixelated onslaught on the screen in front of me. There, inside the game's two-dimensional universe, life was simple" (pg 14)

2.) Me when I get into a good book series....

“I was obsessed. I wouldn’t quit. My grades suffered. I didn’t care.” (pg 63)

3.) “Spending time with her was intoxicating. We seemed to have everything in common. We shared the same interests. We were driven by the same goal. She got all my jokes. She made me laugh. She made me think. She changed the way I saw the world. I’d never had such a powerful, immediate connection with another human being before. Not even with Aech.” (pg 174)

4.) “I was watching a collection of vintage ‘80′s commercials when I paused to wonder why cereal manufacturers no longer included toy prizes inside every box. It was a tragedy, in my opinion. Another sign that civilization was going straight down the tubes.” (pg 176)

5.) “And then one night, like a complete idiot, I told her how I felt.” (pg 179)

6.) “No one in the world ever gets what they want and that’s beautiful.” (pg 199)

7.) “I stood outside her palace gates for two solid hours, with a boombox over my head, blasting “In Your Eyes” by Peter gabriel at full volume.” (pg 203)

8.) “Art3mis had led me to believe that she was somehow hideous but now I saw that nothing could have been further from the truth. To my eyes, the birthmark did absolutely nothing to diminish her beauty. If anything, the face I saw in the photo seemed even more beautiful to me than that of her avatar, because I knew it was this one was real.” (pg 292)

9.) “In Marie’s opinion, the OASIS was the best thing that had ever happened to both women and people of color. From the very start, Marie has used a white male avatar to conduct all of her online business, because of the marked difference it made in how she was treated and the opportunities she was given.” (pg 320)

10.) “We’d connected on a purely mental level. I understood her, trusted her, and loved her as a friend. None of that had changed, or could be changed by anything as inconsequential as her gender, or skin color, or sexual orientation. (pg 321)

Discussion Questions:

1.) Would you apply for the virtual OASIS education like Wade?

When Wade talks about his classes and how he is able to travel through a human heart, visit the Louvre, Jupiter’s moons and more it makes me think that our education system could be so much better with this technology. For one, he discusses how discipline isn’t a problem, how Wade can mute out bullies, and how even the teachers liked the system so much more. It gives students the ability to do things like Wade did and go to chat rooms with his friends in his free time and hang out with people he likes and avoid / mute the ones he doesn’t. I think there are major problems like affordability and the fact that you miss out on real human interaction that scientists have proven is needed for a healthy mind, body, and soul.

2.) If you were a gunter, would you join a clan or stay solo?

In the end I think that part of the lesson Holliday was trying to teach is that you need other people to succeed. You need help and can’t do everything on your own. Why else would he have made the door only open with three keys?

3.) If you were Wade would you sell out to sponsors, movie and book people, and the Suxors? or would you risk it all on the chance of being the first to find the egg?

4.) What movie would you want to enter into like Wade did for the first gate for a “Syncflik”? Could you complete the dialogue for a whole movie?

5.) Did they fake drink at the bar at Og’s party because they hadn’t ever been able to eat or drink inside the OASIS before?

6.) Has social media become obsolete in their world or is the avatar practically their form of social media? Or instead of trying to impress people with how they went to the beach or the expensive Louis Vuittons they just bought, do they put their energy into impressing through their OASIS accounts?

7.) Doesn’t IOI trying to capitalize on OASIS sound a lot like the government trying to end net neutrality? I think this whole story is a lot more realistic than most of us would like to admit to ourselves. (pg 33)

Movie Trailer:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cSp1dM2Vj48

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Scj3wiIcSu0&t=115s

I really hope they keep the Rocky Horror Show scene (pg 179) in the movie because I want to see them have fun and be laid back together. Plus it would be really funny. It was super entertaining in Perks of Being A Wallflower when Charlie has to be in the show. Also, I saw the zero gravity dance floor and the revamped Delorean in the movie trailer and can’t wait to see more of that. (pg 182)

The only thing that would make me immediately hate this movie is if they don’t give Art3mis her birthmark and so far in the trailer I noticed that they have only distinctly shown one side of her face but in the clip where she is sitting in a chair across from Wade you can see most of her face and I didn’t see any scar. What a missed opportunity? Unless they are having her cover it in the first half of the movie with makeup or something. The greatest parts of this book were the lessons learned and I think him meaning that he would love her no matter what she looked like in person because he loved who she was is a crucial part of the story and the birthmark plays a large role in that. It was an opportunity to give people who had similar situations like birthmarks have someone that looked like them in a movie to relate to. I think it really could have been something special.

The other thing that is a bit of a turn off is the body form they gave Ache in the movie because it means that she won’t be able to have that moment talking about how she chose a white, male avatar because of how she felt at a disadvantage as a African American woman and wanted her avatar to be able to escape that. Also the actress they cast is thin so it is another missed opportunity.

Also the choice of the song from Willy Wonka “Pure Imagination” was genius for the trailer. It was beyond perfect!

Side Note:

Also, if you would like to watch part 2 of this book... it’s called WALL-E. There are different characters but it is definitely what Wade’s planet earth is going to look like very soon. They were all absorbed in the internet and forgot about real life and how to make connections, just like this book. I mean Wade even notices his weight gain from being overly absorbed into the game. (pg 196)

18 notes · View notes

topmixtrends · 6 years

Link

PATTERSON HOOD has been leading the Drive-By Truckers — a country-rock band with a hip-hop attitude — for more than two decades. Along the way, the Alabama native has become, in song and in prose, one of the sharpest observers of Southern culture and society since C. Vann Woodward, W. J. Cash, and the Southern novelists he read as a kid.

The Truckers’ latest album, 2016’s American Band, was widely hailed as one of the year’s best and as the group’s most directly political: its songs took on the killing of Trayvon Martin, the worship of the Confederate flag, the nation’s madness for handguns, and the role of the band’s native region in the whole mess. Hood, like fellow Trucker Mike Cooley, grew up near Muscle Shoals, Alabama, and his father, David Hood, is the longtime bassist for the R&B studio’s famous rhythm section.

For many years based in Athens, Georgia, Hood moved to Portland, Oregon, in 2015. The Drive-By Truckers have just launched a US tour that brings them to Los Angeles’s El Rey Theatre on February 9.

SCOTT TIMBERG: Let me start at the obvious place. In your writing, you often look at the South, at the complexity of the region’s history. And there’s a whole bunch of writers who’ve done this before: Faulkner, Eudora Welty, Flannery O’Connor. I’m just wondering what, if anything, these people have meant for you?

PATTERSON HOOD: I probably first became aware of that type of thing, as a genre of literature, when I was assigned To Kill a Mockingbird in high school. That was the first book I was forced to read at school that I actually loved and connected with. I fell in love with it, and the character of Atticus Finch reminded me of a very beloved relative of mine, who was kind of like a second father to me — so I really connected hard with that. And then later, in high school or in college, I read Faulkner a bit … I was too young to really get it. But it was a short story, “Barn Burning,” that I first read, and that was a good entry point, because I totally dug it, and got it, although I don’t think I would have been ready to read As I Lay Dying or anything. I love reading. I’m a fanatical reader.

And that goes back to childhood for you?

Maybe off and on. I remember times in childhood when I read a lot. I loved Old Yeller as a child — I really loved that book. And like everyone, I read Charlotte’s Web, although I don’t think I liked it as a kid. I read it to my son, actually, a couple of years ago, and fell in love with it. But I don’t think as a kid I was able to get past the fact that it was romanticizing a fucking spider. I have arachnophobia, so it was a bit of a leap on that one. So yeah, I went through periods of reading and not reading, I guess because it reminded me too much of school, and I hated school and everything about school at that time. I had to get past rebelling against it in order to enjoy it.

Yeah, I think a lot of us, especially boys, go through that phase, even if they become serious readers later. So when you were reading Harper Lee and the Faulkner story, and maybe some other stuff, what did you respond to, what made you want to go back to it, besides the fact that it was about the part of the country you live in? Did you feel it helped you make sense of the South?

Yeah, I probably just responded to the dialect, because that’s the way my people talked. And I responded to some of the manners — you know, the manners that everybody had, even the villains, who were these kind of ignorant, white trash, really terrible people in To Kill a Mockingbird. They still had a certain amount of decorum about them. When they weren’t spitting in Atticus’s face, there was still a certain amount of “Yes, sir” and “No, sir” involved. And that was beat into me as a kid, you know.

So even though terrible things were happening, in a way, you felt like you were home?

Sure, sure. And I had a similar thing with R.E.M., early R.E.M., I fell in love with them really early. About two weeks before Murmur came out, I got turned on to Chronic Town, and in the press in those days, people talked about, “Oh, you can’t understand the lyrics, you can’t decipher what he’s saying.” But these things tended to be colloquialisms, which I could decipher. There’s a song by a side project called The Golden Palominos, and I remember reading a review by someone who couldn’t decipher what Stipe kept saying, like the hook. And it’s “fixin’ to go” — that’s all he’s saying is “fixin’ to go,” he’s fixin’ to go!

Of course, there’s more to being Southern than just a manner of speech. When did you get a sense that a key element of Southern literature was the question of race? How did Southern literature change the way you understood black people or the racial rift in the region?

Yeah, I can’t remember a time that I wasn’t aware of race, and the South’s role in that story. I don’t think there was ever a point in my life that I wasn’t, at some level, aware of it, because of what my dad did. He made his living playing on Aretha Franklin and Wilson Pickett records, when they literally weren’t allowed to go out to dinner with him, and so he brought that home, you know — the anger over that came home with him. And we’d see George Wallace on the television screen and my dad would just start frothing at the mouth. But we have family members who I’m sure voted for Wallace, and whom I love dearly.

So there was always that disconnect. I was also aware of the generation gap, of the ’60s, the cultural revolution that was playing out in my family too. My parents came of age in the ’60s, and my dad smoked pot, and rode a motorcycle, and had a beard and long hair, and my mom wore go-go boots and hot pants … And I spent an enormous amount of time with my grandparents and my great-uncle, who were from the Depression generation. And so I kind of viewed the counter-culture, the culture clash, from a front-row seat as I was growing up, and I think that’s probably part of my attraction to dualities in my writing and the stuff I do.

It sounds like you didn’t need Harper Lee to show you that race was an obsession in the South — you were seeing and living that every day.

Absolutely. And it’s funny, because I haven’t read the other book of hers that came out. I own it, and I plan to — it’s really just a matter of time … I’m aware of its flaws, but I do want to read it, because I’m interested in that. I’ve actually written a piece, a song that kind of deals with that, because when a New York Times critic actually reviewed the book, it was the week after I moved to Portland. I read that piece in The New York Times, and I literally broke down and cried. I got so upset at Atticus Finch. I got really, really mad for a couple of days.

And then I had this epiphany that it’s absolutely right, that it was important. I believe that she was of sound mind in deciding to put that out, because I think it was important — not to disillusion everybody of their hero, or to make everybody that named their kid Atticus wince — but because that’s how it was. That is the truth.

We’re talking about the fact that Atticus, who’d been this hero of racial justice, became sort of a segregationist, a racist …

It made me mad and upset, but once I got past that, it totally rang true to me.

In the ’30s he was defending this man who was wrongly accused. It offended him on a human level that Tom Robinson was accused of a rape he obviously didn’t commit, but that don’t mean Calpurnia could sit at the table with Atticus at dinnertime. That’s a different line. When African Americans were demanding equality, that crossed a different line, and all of a sudden Harper Lee saw her father, her beloved father figure — who to her represented the side of right and justice — all of a sudden she saw him as a hypocrite. And she wrote this thing first, in anger, and then she went back and wrote, from the view of her childhood, the book that everyone knows and loves.

That rang so true to me, and I wrote a song that, at this point, has never been recorded. I’m still hoping to do something with it. It’s called “At a Safe Distance.” When you look a little closer, not at a safe distance, you tend to see things that aren’t so pleasant — you see the cracks. It really rang true to me; I wish it didn’t.

I guess you could say this about all literature, but it seems that, more than any other, Southern literature is based on history. I wonder if you ever went back and read any Southern history, journalism about the South, about the Civil Rights movement, or any of that? You’re kind of born into the middle of the Civil Rights era — ’64, right?

1964, yeah. I was born either at the last moment of the Baby Boom, or at the first moment of Generation X. I’m right on the cusp, as was my mother, who was born the day before the bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, which is the official start of the Baby Boom. Her birthday’s August 5, so with the time change, she was probably born about the exact moment that the Baby Boom started.

So yeah, all of that fascinates me. I’m obsessed with the Robert Caro books on Lyndon B. Johnson, which goes back to the duality thing, because he was the ultimate dual president. I mean, he was the best and the worst, and sometimes at the exact same moment. Sometimes he would say the worst thing possible when doing something amazing, and vice versa. He could be surprisingly eloquent as he’s just fucking you. He’s a never-ending source of fascination to me, and the fact that such a gifted writer has literally spent 50 years of his life chronicling this guy — I get off on that too. I’ve read all four books that have appeared so far, and I’m eagerly awaiting the fifth and final one.

Was Johnson a sort of Texas racist who grew up and saw racial reality? Or was he an opportunist?

He was all of the above. Caro’s take on it, I think, is that he is all those things, and more, at the exact same time.

When people say, “Oh, he didn’t really mean that — he just did the Civil Rights thing because he knew it would be good for his historical legacy.” Well, sure, he knew it would be good for his legacy, but he very well knew that it meant the South wouldn’t vote Democrat again for 50 years, which it hasn’t. It was the beginning of the great migration of Southern Democrats to the GOP. And when he did those things, he purposefully fucked over people who had helped him his entire career.

And yet, he was absolutely a Jim Crow guy for most of his career. And all of those things coexisted within him at the same time, and I think all along. He did have some awakenings at a young age, he did know extreme poverty, and he taught at a school that was pretty much all Latino students. And I think he was very moved by their plight, and he took that with him forever. And yet he was willing to put that in a box and not deal with it for many, many years, building a career as the LBJ that the Kennedys hated so much.

Your dad’s music, and the music you play with the Truckers, it’s all grounded in the blues and R&B. And the Truckers were founded, in some ways, as an homage to hip-hop …

Sure, sure. Though none of us would have tried to rap. But we were immersed in it. I really responded to how hip-hop seemed to be telling you the news — what was going on right now. Modern-day country was more about retro things. I wanted to sing about what was happening now, but in a country style.

Did any of this lead you into African-American literature, especially essays, from the South or elsewhere?

I got into it really late, really recently. Through reading Ta-Nehisi Coates I tried to learn more about James Baldwin, and then I Am Not Your Negro came out last year, which was so amazing. There are so many books; I’ve only scratched the surface. I can spend the rest of my life reading every day, and not even read a fraction of the things I’m really interested in.

Anything you’ve gone back to and loved the second time?

I love Mark Twain. I made it a point to reread Huckleberry Finn at a much older age, after loving it as a kid. Reading it in my 40s was great. What a remarkable piece of work. I do like reading the classics. I was turned on to Hemingway really late. I responded to the style — it’s like the opposite of Faulkner, whom I also love. Instead of long sentences, reall short, concise ones. I respond to both forms. Hemingway’s stories are so devastating; there’s no way to improve them. I loved A Farewell to Arms. I stumbled upon it accidentally. I was at my in-laws’ house and may’ve been sick, was cooped up, it was a rainy day. They had the book; I picked it up, read the first chapter, and couldn’t put it down. I read the whole thing in like a day and a half.

Your old bandmate, Jason Isbell, is reputed to be a very literary cat. Did you guys turn each other on to books and writers when you were in the Truckers together?

We probably have more since we quit playing together. When we were playing together, we were in the eye of the storm. That was a crazy time. He turned me onto Peter Matthiessen, a trilogy of books that he rewrote as one book, Shadow Country, set in Florida in the Everglades, post–Civil War, when they were first settling that part of the country. It was kind of the last frontier. All of these outlaws that had been put out of business in the West being ended up down there. It was riveting — and one of Jason’s favorite books. He’s very well read, and a great writer in his own right.

Your last record, American Band, was your most explicitly topical. You wrote about racial violence and social tensions that were exploding around you. Did your reading of essayists, novelists, or anything else help shape that album?

I was reading Ta-Nehisi Coates’s Between the World and Me when I was in the midst of writing that record. I had already written “What It Means,” and I was going through a period of questioning: Did I have a right to write such a thing? Reading his book, I kept asking, “What can I do?” Maybe this is a small part of what I can do. Maybe there does need to be a goofy white dude, in a rock ’n’ roll band, with the following that it has, that can say Black Lives Matter. Maybe that is important. I didn’t write that song from the perspective of a black man being shot by police — I wrote it from the perspective of a goofy white dude, like me. Seeing this happening around me and saying, “This is wrong. Why are we at this place in 2017? Why is this still a thing?” And unfortunately, the song doesn’t have answers, it’s just questions. But at least questioning is a start, a beginning.

Scott Timberg is the editor of The Misread City: New Literary Los Angeles and author of Culture Crash: The Killing of the Creative Class.

The post All the Poets (Musicians on Writing): Patterson Hood appeared first on Los Angeles Review of Books.

from Los Angeles Review of Books http://ift.tt/2nwKRsu

#Los Angeles Review of Books #topmixtrends

1 note · View note

honestdreams · 7 years

Text

A Kiss | Montgomery De La Cruz

I sat in the cafeteria next to Clay as we chatted about our history assignment that was coming up, I watched as Clay tensed and slowly stopped talking, I felt a person sit next to me then rolled my eyes seeing who it was, Bryce Walker, a jock who thinks he rules the school just because his parents let him do whatever he wants, especially since his daddy can pay to cover his mistakes.

“Hey y/n you coming to my party this weekend?” He asked wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

I instantly shrugged it off and moved away from him, “Of course not, just the 500 other parties you’ve invited me too.”

He smirked and moved closer to me again “I love feisty girls, y/n did you know that? So this attempt of driving me away is just attracting me more to you.”

I glared at him and shook my head at his idiotic words “And do you know this is harassment, you have been doing this since the year began, just because you think I ‘grew up well’ doesn’t mean you get to say such sick things to me or any other girls in fact. I know what you do at parties Bryce, all those innocent drunk girls, whose lives you ruined. Nothing is ever going to be enough for you is it?”

Bryce looked shocked but quickly laughed and brushed me off, getting up from the seat and walking to his friends “Whatever y/n, you’re still invited, if you can turn up in short tight dress for me”

I rolled my eyes and out of the corner of my eye I notice Monty watching me, I offer him a smile and blushed looking down at my food, getting back into my conversation with Clay but my mind wandered to Monty.

Monty and I had a civil relationship, we took math together and sat next to each other, he was really funny and was different to the other jocks I had talked to. He was surprisingly really compassionate and helpful, I would never admit it out loud but I had a crush on him.

Math class had finally come around and I was actually excited, this was my only time I got to talk to Monty freely without any judgement of his friends, I get to see the real him. I smiled seeing Monty already sat at our table, being next to the window was soothing as there was always a cooling breeze, and today I was lucky enough to watch as Monty smiled at me with the sunlight shining onto him, making his hair look incredibly soft and his smile even brighter than usual.

I sat down next to him and smiled “Hey Monty, were you able to finish the homework?”

“Yeah thanks a lot for giving me your study notes again, y/n”

Class continued smoothly with the occasional laughter from Montgomery and I, along with the flirty comments from us both. The bell rung, signifying the end of school for the week, I sadly sighed packing my things before heading out the door, I didn’t notice Monty quickly putting his stuff away and chasing after me until I heard him call out my name and catch up with me.

“What’s up Monty?”

“Um I was just wondering, um, I heard you saying to Bryce you’re not going to his party so I wanted to ask, do you want to go with me to the Crestmont on Saturday?”

I was surprised but smiled brightly nodding “I’d love to.”

“Great! I mean uhhh that’s cool, I’ll um pick you up at 7” I nodded and bit my lip watching as he walked backwards to the front doors nearly stumbling a couple of times.

“Okay I’ll see you then.”

That was yesterday and here I was now standing in front of my mirror, dressed in a simple dress and sneakers, I heard a knock on my door and I sighed seeing my brother, Alex.

“What is it Alex? Come to tell me Monty is going to hurt and break my heart again? Because it’s not going to stop me from going out with him”

“No, I uh wanted to say, have fun okay? I’m sorry for being an asshole, he was just such a jerk to me last year and I still had the image of him being one stuck in my head, but I’ve finally realised how much nicer he’s actually been this year and now I know why. It’s you y/n you make Monty a better person, everyone sees that, so again I’m sorry for being arrogant,” He explained and walked closer to me to kiss my forehead “I’m going to be at Bryce’s party so don’t worry about curfew, just have fun and be safe okay? I love you.” He mumbled the last bit and I grinned instantly pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you Alex, I love you too”

The doorbell rang, I sighed happily quickly fixing my hair and kissing Alex’s cheek before skipping downstairs and opening the door, just to see Monty dressed surprisingly well and holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Awe Monty, you didn’t have to get me flowers,” I commented taking them.

“I wanted to, I remembered once in class you mentioned you loved flowers, so I wanted to surprise you and start this night off strong”

“That’s so sweet, thank you, I’ll go quickly put these in water” I turned around and saw Alex at the bottom of the stair case with his hands in his pockets.

“I’ll take them y/n” I nodded and handed them over to him, thanking him before going outside with Monty. He opened the passenger seat for me, like a gentleman and I sat down, thanking him as he shut the door and jogged over to the driver seat.

The drive to the Crestmont was pleasant as Monty and I sang along to the radio, the car was filled with our laughs and off key singing, but surprisingly Monty has a decent singing voice that swept me away and made me fall for him even more. We arrived and Monty quickly hopped out of his seat just to open my door, I giggled thanking him and shivered as I felt the cold air rushed over me.

I felt a warm jacket cover my shoulders, I blushed and smiled “Thanks.”

Monty nodded and gently put his arm over my shoulders guiding me into the cinema. Monty bought our tickets, ignoring my protests, claiming he would let me pay next time, I knew the smirk he had said otherwise, but I was flustered at the fact that even though our ‘date’ hadn’t even started yet he was so sure he wanted to go on another.

Clay had a smirk on his lips as he gave us free popcorn and a drink, and as always slipped me red liquorice which I love but this particular time he also gave me a bag of Hersey kisses, I shook my head knowing exactly what he was referring to.

Flashback

Clay and I sat on the stands watching the baseball players warm up before the game and I was particularly interested in one player, I was pulled away from my gaze as I heard Clay scoff.

“What?”

“You’re being so obvious, why not just go up to him and ask him to kiss you?” Clay grinned

“Shut up, you’re crazy” I mumbled embarrassed.

“Here,” Clay spoke before placing something in my hand, I opened it to see a Hersey kiss, “If you ask him ‘does he want a kiss’ and he gets confused or rejects you give him this and just say ‘oh I meant a chocolate kiss’” Clay imitated me then proceeded to laugh and make fun of me the rest of the game.

"I love Hersey chocolates" I heard Monty comment as we walked into the theatre.

"Me too" I laugh and smile sitting down in our seats.

We chatted waiting for the movie to start and I noticed the theatre was actually quite empty, there was only a couple of people but they were a distance away from Monty and I.

The movie started and I realised Monty's arm was around me, I smiled and moved closer to him resting my head on his shoulder, I felt as Monty let out a sigh of relief that made me giggle as I knew he was nervous.

We were halfway through the movie when I remembered the pack of 'kisses' in my pocket I pulled them out and softly tapped Monty, he looked away from the screen and at me with a look of concern.

"Do you want a kiss?" I offered making his eyes go big and his cheeks heat up.

"W-what?"

"A kiss, Monty"

"S-sure"

I smiled and was about to take one out of the bag but as Monty leaned closer I realised he wanted a real kiss, so I leaned in and kissed him deeply. His hand cupped my face and our lips moved together in symphony, I felt the sparks and my heart flutter, my hand travelled around Monty's neck and pulled him closer.

We got lost in our kiss and eventually the lights came back on, Monty and I were both out of breath and now that there was better lighting I could see his lips were clearly swollen. I blushed and moved to pull away but Monty lifted my chin and brought me to a soft and quick kiss again, I smiled and kissed him back before pulling away and taking his hand to walk out of the theatre.

I blushed harder seeing Clay standing outside with cleaning equipment but also a smug look on his face.

"How was the 'kisses' y/n?"

"Fuck off Clay, go find Hannah and ask her for a 'kiss'" I replied jokingly and quickly pulled Monty away.

Monty drove me home and kissed me good night promising to call me tomorrow, he did keep that promise and also texted me thanking me for agreeing to go out with him and the fact that he couldn't wait for next time.

It was Monday morning as I walked into school with my coffee in one hand and my books in the other, I smirked noticing others wearing sunglasses hiding their tiredness. I walked to my locker and groaned noticing Bryce standing next to it, I tried to swiftly open in and avoid him but of course he forced me into a conversation.

“So y/n you didn’t come to my party on Saturday”

I rolled my eyes putting away my backpack and grabbing my chemistry book, “I know that Bryce.”

Suddenly his hands travelled around my waist and pulled me closer to him, “You should make up for it then sexy because you really hurt my feelings by not coming” I flinched as he leaned in to whisper in my ear “I had something good planned for us” grabbing my ass after.

I finally had enough and punched Bryce in the face with all my strength making him fall back and land on his ass in front of me, “Don’t ever touch me again Bryce! Don’t think I’m just some girl that will let you harass me and won’t defend myself. I know you who are, a rapist, simple as that, so why don’t you do everyone a favour and turn yourself in!” I yelled not caring for the crowd that had formed around us.

I saw Monty in the crowd, a shocked look plastered on his face but as our eyes met a smile formed on his lips, he pushed others aside and walked to me wrapping an arm around my shoulder making me blush. He kissed my forehead and guided me away from the group, walking out of school.

"You know I was going to step in but then you punched him, and I've got to be honest that turned me on"

Masterlist

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed that it took me a couple of days to write because of school but I got it done as soon as I could because I love you guys so thank you reading and don’t be afraid to request ♡

#honestdreams #request #monty de la cruz #montgomery de la cruz #monty de la cruz imagine #montgomery de la cruz imagine #13 reasons why #13 reasons why imagine #13rw #13rw imagine

461 notes · View notes

charlottewest-blog1 · 7 years

Text

can you feel the love tonight. Andertwins

WHO: Blaine (@sincerelyblaine) and Charlotte (@charlottewest) Anderson

WHAT: The Andertwins are required to go to their parents’ place for their birthday dinner. Given the complicated relationship between Charlotte and Blaine and their parents, it’s a weird night all around.

WHEN: Friday night, July 7, 2017

WHERE: The Anderson residence/Charlotte’s apartment/Blaine’s car

NOTES: Sam and I can’t even keep discord paras short. #SorryNotSorry

CHARLOTTE

Charlotte looked over her reflection in the mirror. She still had a few finishing touches she had to do before Blaine picked her up for their birthday dinner, and a quick check of her watch showed that, shit, she was running a bit behind. Hell, Charlotte wasn't even dressed yet. She rolled her eyes; yet another thing for Blaine to get all pissy about with her. It wasn't her fault that one of her students' mother kept asking a ton of questions that kept her at the studio later than planned. Whatever.

There was a knock on her door as she worked on her contour, and, with one sigh to herself, she left the bathroom and opened the door to find her twin there. "Hey, Blaine. I just need a few more minutes," Charlotte said as pleasantly as possible. It was hard to be pleasant when she saw her brother and remembered...well, everything. "Sit down, help yourself to a drink, whatever," she said, gesturing to the beautifully decorated apartment she shared with Clementine. She was rather proud of how nice it looked in all honesty. "I promise to be quick; work ran late."

BLAINE

Even though Blaine had been looking forward to going out with his friends to celebrate his birthday, he was still not looking forward to the annual birthday dinner with his parents and Charlotte. They'd been doing this since they were kids and he couldn't remember ever enjoying it, not even once, and even though both twins had insisted that they didn't need to keep doing it, their parents insisted. And every year, things only seemed to get more tense between Blaine and Charlotte. They both knew they needed to control themselves in front of their parents, but it proved to be a very difficult challenge.

Blaine sat in his car for a few minutes when he got to Charlotte's, knowing that she was sometimes late. He just checked his phone and listened to the radio before finally going up and knocking on the door. To no one's surprise, Charlotte wasn't even dressed, or at least he hoped that wasn't what she was planning on wearing to dinner. Even though it was just their family, it seemed like appearances mattered more and more every year.

"Hey. It's cool," he said as casually as possible, not wanting to start an argument over nothing this early in the evening. There was plenty of time for that later. He followed her into the apartment and closed the door. He glanced around briefly; he had never been to her apartment before. It was really nice. A hell of a lot nicer than where he'd been living. "You're fine. It happens," he said, shrugging it off as he sat down on the couch. "I'll be here." He gave her a small smile and pulled out his phone, sending a quick text to Atticus.

CHARLOTTE

It wasn't like Charlotte and Blaine fought every single second they interacted - or, well, they didn't always fight every single second they were forced together - but she had to admit she was kind of impressed that Blaine hadn't started something with her for running late. She was pretty sure the high school version of him would've rolled his eyes and made a fuss about it, but Blaine was actually shrugging and even giving her a smile. She looked at him with confusion at first before offering a small smile in return before going back to the bathroom.

"Yeah, my last student's mom kept asking me weird questions..." Charlotte said from the bathroom, loud enough for Blaine to hear her. "We have a recital for the kids next month and she kept asking about details that the studio hasn't even planned out yet." She carefully put on lipstick and then went to her bedroom, unable to stop herself from noticing Blaine texting someone. Remembering the picture her brother had uploaded after the fourth, Charlotte closed the door to her room partway to change into the dress she planned on wearing. The door was open enough so her voice could be heard when she asked, "So...did you enjoy the picnic this week?" She was endlessly curious how someone like Tic was doing anything with her brother, someone who never seemed to want to have fun.

BLAINE

Blaine was more than content to just sit in silence and wait for his sister to finish getting ready, but she felt the need to fill the silence with small talk that Blaine really didn't care to listen to. Over the last year or so, Blaine had really come to not understand small talk, or even having conversations that didn't have a purpose. They just made him tired, and that was a lot of the reason that he tried to avoid a lot of conversation with his siblings or his parents.

"Oh, yeah? I bet that's frustrating," Blaine called out in response, half listening as he texted Atticus. Honestly, Blaine was happy for his sister and the new success she'd found and her job and school and her nice apartment and all of her friends and whatever else, but he really didn't want to hear about it. And maybe that made him seem like a jealous brat, but whatever. Maybe he was. Blaine furrowed his eyebrows as Charlotte asked him a question. Wouldn't it make more sense for her to not talk as she got ready? Wouldn't talking slow her down? "Yeah, it was really nice," he said, genuine in his response. The whole event had been great, and aside from the incident with Tic at the end of the night, it had been one of the best days he'd had in awhile. "Really well organized. And the weather was perfect." He nodded to himself and leaned his head back against the couch, checking his watch before checking his phone again. "Did you?"

CHARLOTTE

Ever since she was little, Charlotte was never one to like silence. Part of it was probably because silence led to her being alone with her thoughts, which, as a kid, would often drift to treatments she was going through and her fears of never getting better. A lot of it, though, was purely because she was extroverted and felt the need to fill the silence. Especially an awkward one while her brother was there. Still, it was obvious to her that Blaine was far from interested in anything she had to say about her job, which made her feel a seed of disappointment she swallowed down.

She listened to her brother talk about the picnic and noticed the obvious vocal change. It was possibly not super obvious to everyone else, but it was obvious to her that Blaine actually had a genuinely good time, and that it wasn't just forced small talk. When he turned the question on her, she nodded, though she realized he obviously couldn't see her reaction. "Yeah, it was a lot of fun," she said simply as she took off the shorts she had been wearing around the apartment. She tried zipping up her dress herself, but couldn't make her arms bend the right way. With a sigh, she called out to Blaine, "Hey, can you come here and zip me up, please?" Charlotte waited for him with her back to the door, her eyes landing on a picture of her and some friends together, and then another picture of her and one of her friends together. There were a few other pictures along her walls, but only one had Blaine, and it was just a group family photo from when they were little.(edited)

BLAINE

Blaine sighed softly to himself and stood up when Charlotte called for him, pocketing his phone. He adjusted his bow tie and walked over to where she was, reaching for the zipper and carefully zipping it up, fastening the tiny clip at the very top. "You look nice," he said quietly as she turned around, not a whole lot of emotion in his face, but he still meant it. She didn't really deserve the compliment considering she was always making cracks about his clothes, but he just tried to ignore that for the sake of civility. He really didn't understand why people made fun of the way he dressed, especially his family. They should be glad that he even continued to put himself together everyday if they really thought he was the fragile nut case that they treated him as.

Blaine felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. "Do you need anything else?" he asked, sliding his phone out and checking it. His lips curled into a tiny smile without him even realizing it as he read the text from Tic, turning away from his sister to get out of the small space of the doorway.

CHARLOTTE

Charlotte looked up at her brother as he complimented her. Her immediate reaction was to say that she knew she looked good, but she instead smiled and thanked him. She took in his outfit and told him, rather formally, "You do, too." And honestly, he did look better than usual, at least based on her memories from high school; there weren't huge, clashing colors or a comically large bow tie.

She went over to her closet to grab the wedge sandals she had planned to wear when he asked her a question. She turned around with the shows in hand and said, "No..." trailing off when she saw his phone in his hand and a smile on his face.

Charlotte sat down on her bed and quickly put on her shoes. "It's kind of funny," she observed. "On the fourth, I spent the day with Kurt. Since he said his brother told him he had plans. Then we find out, he was hanging out with you." She finished putting on her shoes and asked for Blaine's hand to help her stand up, her shoes now making her much closer to his height. In the words of Hanna Marin, she wore three inches or she wore nothing.

BLAINE

Blaine leaned back against the wall next to Charlotte's door as he waited, focused on his phone screen. He only tuned in when she mentioned Kurt and Atticus, glancing up at her. He wasn't sure what she was getting at. "Oh, yeah. Tic and I have been friends since high school, so.." He trailed off and looked back down at his phone, sending the text before walking over to help her up. He wasn't about to confide in his sister anything about what was going on with Atticus in any capacity. It wasn't worth the pestering or how involved she would try to make herself.

"Can you even walk in those things?" he asked with a small smile, just lighthearted teasing. "Don't break an ankle. Everyone will think you got drunk and fell."

CHARLOTTE

Charlotte hummed quietly when Blaine confirmed that he was out with Tic. He didn't say anything about it being a date or anything, but it seemed to be one. Her gossiping, chatterbox ways were begging her to ask him more and try to figure out what was going on there, but she knew he wouldn't really want to tell her anything. Maybe there wasn't even anything there; after all, what would Tic want in someone like Blaine? She knew that sounded mean, but, well, Blaine had said and probably thought worse about her. When he teased her about the shoes, she just rolled her eyes.

When he made a comment that was probably just supposed to be teasing, she narrowed her eyes a little. She figured it really was just supposed to be a fun little joke because they were turning 21 the next day, but seeing as Blaine seemed to think, at least back in high school, that she just got drunk all the time, it actually pissed her off a little bit. "Not everyone thinks I'm just a drunken mess," Charlotte said as civilly as possible. After a small but deep breath, she said, "Thank you for your concern, but I'm fine. I have much taller heels." She forced a smile and went over to her purse on her desk, rifling through it to make sure she had her pill organizer, since she had to take another round of immunosuppressants soon, and she stored her phone in there as well. "Okay, let's go."

BLAINE

As disappointing as it was, it didn't surprise Blaine at all that Charlotte obviously took his joke the wrong way. And she didn't understand why he just didn't talk to her if he didn't have to? "Great," he said blankly as she said she was ready to go, rolling his eyes once he was turned away from her and walking out the front door. He didn't bother opening her door for her, just getting into the drivers seat and turning the car on. Once they were buckled in, he sent off one last text to Atticus before starting the drive toward their parents house, happy to sit in silence.

CHARLOTTE

Even though Charlotte knew it was her fault that Blaine was all angry and weird again, she was still annoyed by it. Instead of trying to explain why that had upset her, she just followed him to the car, locking her door behind her. She carefully climbed into the front seat and buckled in. Once Blaine started to drive, it seemed pretty clear that he wasn't going to play any music, but Charlotte, still not liking silence, turned on the radio, only to hear the one decent station playing some ad. "Ugh." She flipped through a few stations, but nothing good seemed to be on, so she settled on the original station, which was still on a commercial break. "Thanks for driving," she finally said, feeling the need to say something.

BLAINE

Blaine glanced over as Charlotte turned on the radio, but didn't say anything, just letting her flip through the stations. He usually listened to music in the car, but he hadn't even thought about it when they got in, a bit distracted. Really, he was dreading this dumb dinner, but that wasn't the only thing on his mind. He just didn't understand why his relationship with his sister was so awful, but he didn't really think it could be saved at this point.

"You're welcome," he said as he turned at an intersection, grateful for the music that finally started playing on the radio. It wasn't that much longer of a drive, so hopefully there wouldn't be another commercial break.

When they finally arrived at their parents house, Blaine pulled up in front of it on the street and parked, letting out a sigh and rubbing over his face. He slipped his phone out again, replying to a text, and then turned to look at his sister. "Ready?"

CHARLOTTE

Blaine seemed to be looking forward to this just as little as she was, if his body language was anything to go by. She looked over her makeup in the mirror one last time before nodding. Without another word, she slipped out of the car and walked over to the door with Blaine, ringing the doorbell. It didn't take long for their mom to open it and rush them inside, giving both of them big hugs. Their dad soon came in and gave her a big hug, actually lifting her up for a few moments as he asked how his "Little Lottie" was doing.

"I'm fine, just -- " Charlotte was cut off by her phone ringing. She pulled it out of her purse and saw the alarm for her next round of pills. Her parents, well used to that chosen alarm tone, immediately started fussing over getting her a glass of water. "Guys, it's fine --" She cut herself off because she knew it was no use telling them she had a bottle of water with her. She just took out her pill organizer and poured the dose of large pills into her hand and took them with the glass of water that was all but shoved into her hand. "Thank you," she said when she was done, holding onto her glass. She was well aware her dad hadn't gotten around to greeting Blaine yet.

BLAINE

Blaine stood next to his sister at the door, feeling a nervous, nauseating feeling that he shouldn't have to feel when visiting his parents. It's just that he knew what to expect, and all of that was pretty much what happened as soon as the door opened.

"Hi mom," Blaine said with as sweet of a smile as he could manage, returning her half hearted hug. He had just opened his mouth to ask her how she was when suddenly his dad came into the room, completely looking past him to pick Charlotte up off the ground, showering her with affection. It took everything in him to not roll his eyes. Not only was it the most unnecessary display of affection in the history of mankind, but it was pretty obvious that Charlotte was at least a little uncomfortable. The eye roll almost happened for a second time when Charlotte's alarm went off, reminding her to take her medicine. Blaine had never seen his parents move so fast to get her water-- well, except for every other time she had to take her medicine around them. He just shifted his weight, rubbing at his elbow and staring directly at his father, who had yet to acknowledge his existence in the slightest.

Part of Blaine wanted so badly to say something to him, even a hello, but he stayed quiet and out of the way, just like his parents always wanted him to. If he could just talk as little as possible, maybe this could be over and done with even sooner.

'Dinner is just about ready,' their mother said, smiling at both of them, while their father only smiled at Charlotte. 'How about you both come sit in the dining room?' Blaine just looked over at his dad and Charlotte, his jaw clenching when he saw him put his arm around his sister and lead her into the dining room. Blaine stayed behind for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to calm himself down before following them into the dining room.

CHARLOTTE

Normally Charlotte loved when her dad wrapped her up in a big hug and lifted her up like that. It was like being a kid again, and she'd giggle and tell him everything about her life at the moment; she was always a daddy's girl. But with Blaine there, so obviously ignored, and with the awkwardness already between them, the hug wasn't nearly as magical as before. Then the fussing over her medicine, as if she couldn't even handle it herself, was just exhausting. She was working so hard on being independent, and it just sucked that her parents didn't recognize that.

Still, it was nice when her dad wrapped an arm around her and led her into the dining room. He started asking her about work, and Charlotte honestly couldn't stop herself from beaming and talking about how proud she was of her students and how sweet her coworkers were to her.

'Are you two doing anything special tomorrow?' Her mom asked, obviously trying to get Blaine in the conversation. She held a bottle of wine and, given that she and Blaine were given wine glasses, she was sure they were going to be offered it.

Charlotte paused and looked over at Blaine. After some hesitation, she said, "I'm just going to go to a few places with some friends. So I'll pass on wine tonight." Their mom looked over at Blaine expectedly while Charlotte brought out her small bottle of hand sanitizer.

BLAINE

Blaine just took his usual seat at the table, near his mother's seat, and busied himself with unfolding the cloth napkin and laying it over his lap. He just stared down at it and smoothed his thumbnails over the seam, not looking up until he heard his mom asking a question, bottle of wine in hand. He glanced over at Charlotte as she answered, giving her a small smile and then looking at his mom. "Me too. Just going up town with some of my friends," he said, ignoring the skeptical look on his dad's face. Why did everybody think he was such a loser?

"I'll pass on the wine, too. I drove us, so. Better safe than sorry," he added, and his mom nodded in understanding. She opened the bottle of wine, pouring some for her husband and then herself before turning back to the kitchen. "Mom, can I help you with anything?" he asked, quickly moving his napkin and standing up.

'That's okay. Just relax,' she told him with a smile before disappearing into the kitchen. Blaine just sat down, defeated, and messed with his napkin again, trying to block out the conversation next to him.

CHARLOTTE

Charlotte smiled slightly back at Blaine, and was honestly glad to see him turn down wine as well. Being the only one not drinking would make her feel more like a weirdo than she already did. Sometimes the reminder that she was different, that she had something that made her have to act differently and think differently...well, it was lonely.

Almost as soon as possible, her dad turned back to her to talk about school and her roommate and, well, basically everything they could talk about before mom had all the food on the table. "This looks delicious, mom," Charlotte said as she looked over everything.

She opened her hand sanitizer and poured some in her hand, offering the bottle to everyone at the table. Since her medication literally partly suppressed her immune system, she had to be super careful about germs, so it was rare to see her without a small bottle with her.

Once everyone was settled, their mom raised her wine glass. 'To Charlotte and Blaine's 21st!' Charlotte raised her water glass with a smile and lightly clinked her dad's glass, since it was the closest. As they started to grab food, her mom turned to Blaine and asked, 'How's work going?'

BLAINE

Blaine sat quietly in his seat, sitting up straight with his hands in his lap, looking ahead at the table. All he was thinking about was the next night, and how much he was looking forward to spending time with Atticus, and Marley, and the rest of his friends. Even though they didn't know his whole story, it felt nice to be accepted somewhere, and to not have to act a certain way around them. If he could just focus on that, maybe this dinner wouldn't be so bad.

It was a relief when his mom walked back in, setting everything on the table, because it at least changed the conversation from how perfect Charlotte was to how good the food looked. Blaine raised his glass of water, forcing a small smile and clinking his glass against his mom's before putting some food on his plate. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't even realize his mom was talking to /him/ when she asked about work.

He blinked a few times, just looking at her. As much as he didnt want to be ignored, he realized he didn't have much to say about it. "It's going really well," he said with a nod, cutting into his chicken. "They've been talking about making me an assistant manager, so we'll see--" 'Honey, did you hear that Charlotte's students have a recital coming up?' Blaine’s dad said, pausing his conversation with Charlotte to interrupt theirs. 'We'll have to go. Show our support for our little miracle.' He smiled lovingly at Charlotte as he gently squeezed her elbow, and Blaine had to stop himself from gagging.

CHARLOTTE

As soon as her hands were clean, Charlotte stored the bottle away and started helping herself to some food. She heard her mom ask Blaine a question, but before she could try to join in on the subject, her dad was asking her another question about work. Lottie mentioned that they had a recital the next month for all the piano students. The words had barely left her mouth before her dad was announcing that they had to go to her students' recital.

"Dad, it's fine," she said, though she smiling brightly at the thought of him coming. She loved how much she supported him, and being called her parents' "little miracle" honestly didn't get old for her. At least it hadn't yet, and she'd been their miracle for roughly 15 years. "I'd love to have you all there, though," she admitted.

'We'll definitely go, Lottie,' her mom said. 'It sounds so exciting! Will you play anything?'

"No, I don't think so, unless one of the younger students has one of those teacher accompaniments with their song," Charlotte said. "It's really about the students more than me." Her dad went on about how she'd have to make sure they were invited to any and all college performances in the fall, and she agreed, still smiling. As much as she loved being their miracle, it was nice when they complimented her on things that weren't just managing to be alive.

Once the table had quieted down a bit (re: Charlotte and Blaine's dad stopped talking for a bit to have some wine), their mom turned back to Blaine 'Oh, sorry, honey, what were you saying about work? Assistant manager?'

BLAINE

Blaine's grip on his utensils tightened, his jaw clenching slightly as the entire dinner conversation was shifted to Charlotte's recital. This was truly exactly what he was expecting, but that didn't make it any less irritating. He just sucked at his teeth as he cut into his chicken again, cutting the entire thing into tiny pieces just to give himself something to focus on. He almost had to laugh when his mom actually tried talking to him again. She didn't care, even as much as she pretended to.

"That's it, really," he said simply, not looking at her. He knew even talking about it was useless, because even if it was something more impressive, it still wouldn't be as great as anything his sister did.

'We're really proud of you, Charlotte,' their dad loudly boasted again, smiling at his daughter proudly. 'It's so nice to see you doing so well after all you've been through.' There was a short silence, and Blaine had just speared a piece of zucchini with his fork. 'Now if only your brother could get it together. Help him out, will ya?'

Blaine almost dropped his fork, and opened his mouth to speak, but quickly stopped himself. It was no use.

CHARLOTTE

Charlotte could feel the tension coming off of Blaine, and it was kind of insane how apparently no one else did. Was it just some twin thing? Or were her parents really that oblivious? Charlotte shifted a bit in her seat; she knew this was half of why Blaine didn't get along with her, but it wasn't her fault that their parents did this. It wasn't even entirely their fault; it was a hard habit to break after spending years praising her for everything because they were afraid it'd be her last.

When her dad bragged about her again, she found herself smiling. As much as she didn't want to upset Blaine or anything, she was human and she liked praise. "Thanks, daddy," she said sweetly. Her eyes widened when he switched things around and acknowledged Blaine for the first time that night, and in the worst possible way. Her mom gave her dad a warning look and Charlotte looked between the her parents and Blaine, not sure what to do. She didn't like Blaine getting attacked...okay, well, the sad truth was that part of her did like it, because after years of his smug attitude, it was kind of nice to not be the failure of the family.

"Daddy," she finally said in a warning tone. She opened her mouth to say more, to tell him that he wasn't being fair and that Blaine was just going through a rough spot and it was his birthday, too. But she knew already that wouldn't go over well. So with an internal sigh, she forced on a smile and changed the subject, "How's work been, dad?" She shot an apologetic look to Blaine and took a large bite of chicken. Hopefully they'd get to presents soon so they could leave.

BLAINE

"May I please be excused for a moment?" Blaine suddenly asked, setting his napkin on the table and standing up. He looked directly at his mom for permission, his back to his father, and when she nodded, he pushed his chair in and immediately left the room, going into the bathroom and closing the door. He sighed and rested his head against the wall, just closing his eyes. Then he slipped out his phone and quickly texted Atticus. He just had to get through another hour or so, maybe. He took a few more minutes before going back into the dining room and taking his seat, slowly picking at his meal and avoiding everyone's eyes.

CHARLOTTE

The rest of dinner was a lot less dramatic after that. Charlotte did her best to steer both of their parents towards conversations that didn't involve her or her brother. Finally they finished dinner, and their mom escorted them to the living room. On either side of the couch there were a few boxes for each of them with their names on them. She knew they would get her gifts, even though she insisted they didn't need to at all. So Charlotte bit her tongue and sat down next to the ones labeled "Lottie" and waited for her mom to come back with the lighted cake and her camera, like she did every birthday.

Soon enough, her mom was back with a homemade red velvet cake - Charlotte's favorite - with 21 candles on it for the two of them to share. After making them pose next to each other, her father started singing "Happy Birthday" to them, and then they could blow out the candles. She leaned forward with her brother and they blew them out together, Charlotte probably a bit more enthusiastic than Blaine.

Soon they were eating cake and opening gifts. Both of them had gotten a wine from their parents from the year they were born; it seemed like something they must have picked out soon after they were born. Despite insisting they didn't need to get her any presents, Lottie admitted she loved the earring and necklace set they got her, and there were some awesome gift certificates as well. It was actually a pretty good haul, even if she wished they had just donated to a charity or just stuck with the wine. "Thanks, mom and dad," she said with a smile, checking her phone for the time. Hopefully they'd get to leave soon...which would only make her have to spend more time alone with her brother, but at least it'd be over.

BLAINE

Blaine stayed quiet as they finished their meal, contributing minimally to their conversations. He managed to sneak his phone out a few times when the conversation got more intense, and he was grateful when it was over and they were being led into the living room for cakes and gifts. This was always more awkward, but at least it didn't last as long. He went along with their usual routine, blowing out the candles and forcing a smile as he opened gifts that he wished he didn't even receive.

He had to admit that the wine idea was pretty good, but he wasn't exactly thrilled about the tie with cartoon coffee beans on it, or the other coffee themed gifts. Working at the coffee shop was not a major identifier for him, but apparently it was to his parents. He also did his best to not react to the bag full of college pamphlets that he was given, all with programs that could finally lead him to 'a respectable job' that 'we could all be proud of' in his dad's words. In between the stack of pre-med, pre-law, and engineering booklets was a pamphlet for a local therapists office. He just pretended not to see it and dramatically checking his watch so everybody would hopefully get the hint.

He was so grateful when they were finally leaving, giving his mom a quick hug. He had every intention of walking right past his dad without a word, but he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back in after Charlotte had already left.

'You better read through those booklets,' he told him, and Blaine just stared at him. 'I mean it, Blaine. You need help, and you're obviously not interested in helping yourself.'

"I'm actually fine," he replied, which was kind of a lie. "I don't need help. And even if I did, do you really think this is going to do it?" He raised the bag of college materials.

His dad narrowed his eyes. 'You should be glad we even did that for you after how you humiliated us.'

"Just don't do anything next time, okay?" Blaine pleaded, his grip tightening on the bag. "I can handle this. I can take care of myself. Treating me the way you have been isn't helping. At all." He sighed and just stared back at his father, who only looked surprised and not at all remorseful.

'I think you should go,' he finally said, gesturing toward the door.

"That's all I've wanted to do since we got here," Blaine huffed, trying to keep his voice steady, as he turned and walked out of the house without saying anything else. He just walked out to his car and unlocked it, putting his stuff in the backseat. Once he was in the drivers seat, he pulled out his phone, quietly texting Atticus with furious fingers before finally turning the car on. He still hadn't looked at Charlotte, but he didn't want to try to talk to her about any of this right now.

CHARLOTTE

Charlotte was relieved that Blaine seemed to get actual good gifts this time around, no socks or anything included. She wasn't a fan of all the tie thing, but it was kind of cute. And, hey, the pamphlets for colleges were a bit unnecessary, but they were just trying to show they cared about him. It was always weird to her how Blaine was judged for doing something performance based, which is why Charlotte waited to tell her parents about her plans for studying piano. But they embraced her path with open arms. She didn't really get why, past, well, the whole kidney thing. Of course.

It was obvious Blaine wanted to leave, so Charlotte helped move things along. As much as facing the long drive back to her place with Blaine made her a bit queasy, spending time with her parents and Blaine was a lot more stressful. She could handle Blaine's crappy attitude towards her, but being around her tense twin while their parents were around was just too much. She truly didn't get why they were so weird.

Once she gathered all her presents in a bag, still wearing the new jewelry she got, she gave her dad a big hug, and then her mom another one, thanking them for everything. Her mom gave her some cake in a tupperware bowl to have later, which she also appreciated. And then her dad, of course, gave her another big hug, complete with spinning her around this time, which just made her giggle like a kid again. 'Lots of love, Little Lottie,' he said when he finally put her down. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and told her happy birthday one more time before she left the house.

For someone obviously wanting to leave, Blaine sure took a long time to actually do so. Charlotte raised her eyebrows and almost went back inside to see what was going on, only for Blaine to finally leave. She carefully got back into the car after he unlocked it, resting the cake in her lap and wrapping along with her purse. She looked over at Blaine as he angrily texted someone - was he mad at Atticus now? That had to be who he was texting.

"Hey, no socks this time, right?" Charlotte joked. "That tie was...cute." She tried not to sound judgmental, but it was hard because she really didn't like it. It was kind of a relief for her when Blaine started going to Dalton only because he had to wear a uniform instead of his usual clothes most of the time. After a moment, she quietly added, "I'm sorry dad was mean." She knew that wasn't the best way to put it, but it was hard for her to ever call him anything more than that. As much as Charlotte could recognize he was unfair with her brother, she couldn't quite write him off, not with how well he treated her in return. It was always complicated.

BLAINE

Blaine set his phone in the cup holder and pulled onto the street to head back to Charlotte's apartment. He turned on the radio instantly to hopefully avoid whatever awkward silence and hoped that they didn't have to talk, but the silence was short lived.

"Yeah, no socks," he said with a quiet laugh, trying to keep his voice from shaking, but he was angry. Not hurt, not sad, but genuinely angry. He hummed another small sound that was supposed to be a laugh when she mentioned the tie. It was pretty stupid, but it was actually the one thing he'd use and was probably going to wear it to work in the morning. He also knew she hated anything he ever wore, so the fact that she even brought it up at all was annoying.

He almost had to genuinely laugh when she said that dad had been "mean." He was always mean, but this was something else. "He's been mean to me for 21 years. I'm used to it." He flipped through the radio stations, trying to find some pop song that would hopefully keep both of them occupied for even a few minutes during the drive. "He's getting more creative with his meanness though. I have to give him some credit for that."

CHARLOTTE

Charlotte bit her lip. She knew if she kept engaging Blaine it would be a mistake. She knew that. But she really cared about him, even if she still held some bitterness towards him. While her parents never treated her like a failure, plenty of other people had, and she wouldn't wish it on anyone.

She couldn't stop herself from saying something. "He's just trying to help," she said softly. Right after she said it, she knew it was a mistake. "I mean, he doesn't know how to help. He wants you to be happy. So he's trying to help you find something, that's all. He gave me some pamphlets, too."

BLAINE

"He's not trying to help me so that I'm happy. He's trying to help me do what he wants so he doesn't have to be ashamed of me," Blaine said immediately, still trying to keep his voice calm. Charlotte had the tendency to take everything personally, so if he raised his voice at all she'd flip out for him being mad at her. "I failed out of art school, Charlotte. He never believed in me. He thought I was making a mistake, and he was right. And he's going to hold that over my head forever." He chewed at the inside of his cheek, his hands gripping the steering wheel. "He doesn't care if I'm happy. He cares if he's happy. You can defend him all you want, but it doesn't change my situation at all. I'm glad he loves you so much. It at least means there's a heart in there somewhere."

CHARLOTTE

Charlotte frowned and played with the strings of her purse to try to occupy her hands; she had a tendency to do things like that when she was anxious, and this was definitely an anxiety inducing conversation. "You didn't make a mistake," Charlotte said quietly. "You followed a path you loved and it didn't work. Maybe it will in the future, maybe you'll find something you love more. At least you got in. That's something." Charlotte didn't apply to NYADA, but she didn't get into some of the other competitive music schools she applied to, so she probably wouldn't have made it at NYADA, either. She felt no need to tell her brother that, though. As far as Blaine knew, she had chosen OSU for financial reasons, not because they were one of the few schools she got into because of her grades. She was sure he'd find some way to rub that in, at least if the senior year version of him was anything to go by.

She shot him a small glare when he implied her dad didn't have a heart. When it became clear that she needed a transplant, her dad was the first one to volunteer. When they weren't a match, he was devastated. He was the one who took care of her the most, the one who brought her food in bed and took her to appointments and searched on end for a doner. Maybe he didn't get along with Blaine, but her dad was far from heartless. Charlotte hated that he didn't get along with Blaine, but it hurt to hear him talk about her father like that.

"He does care about you. I really believe that. I'm sorry that you don't," Charlotte said as simply and calmly as she could.

CHARLOTTE

Blaine pursed his lips as he stared at the road of him. While any other time he might have appreciated Charlotte's attempt at optimism, this was definitely not the time. Not after their father clearly stated that Blaine had humiliated them. Not today.

"Okay, Charlotte," he said, feeling defeated. He didn't want to talk to her about this, because there was no way she'd ever be able to see from his point of view. She'd never had to fight for either of their parents' affection or approval. "Yeah, he cares about me so much that he goes out of his way to make me miserable every time we're forced to communicate. Okay." His head was starting to hurt from holding back so many eye rolls. Fortunately they came to a red light and Blaine grabbed his phone once they were stopped.

CHARLOTTE

Charlotte could tell Blaine didn't believe her, but she felt like it was better to just not say anything else. Blaine was obviously upset and she clearly wasn't making any of it better, as much as she was trying to. She sighed as they pulled up to a red light, checking her own phone as Blaine checked his.

"So," Charlotte said, trying to change the subject and the tone of this whole conversation. "How's Atticus?" She asked coyly. "I mean, I assume that's who you've been texting all night. Since you keep smiling at your phone and all." She had to admit she was a little concerned purely because she knew Atticus wasn't the dating type and Blaine had even made him a freaking picnic, so he was clearly, like, into him. But maybe Tic had changed. She didn't know him well enough to really gauge his personality, since she had always been much closer to Kurt. "He's fun. I'm glad you two are friends."

BLAINE

Blaine appreciated the few brief moments of silence, stupidly thinking that maybe somehow Charlotte would be content with just listening to the radio. But then she was talking again, changing the subject completely to something totally different, and both of Blaine's eyebrows raised involuntarily. Just hearing his name made Blaine feel like he'd been punched in the throat, and that was probably really pathetic.

He just looked over at Charlotte out of the corner of his eye, really trying to not react, because he could already see it: Charlotte running her mouth to the whole town about how Blaine and Atticus were "dating," and word would get back to Atticus who would not be thrilled that Blaine was telling someone something like that when it clearly wasn't true.

"I haven't been smiling at my phone," he said sharply, though he could feel his cheeks heating up a little bit just at her bringing it up. Hopefully she wouldn't notice. He shifted his hands on the steering wheel, thumbnails digging into the leather. "He's probably fine, I don't know. Yeah, he's fun." He swallowed hard and chewed on his bottom lip as he continued driving, somehow feeling even more embarrassed than he had at dinner.

CHARLOTTE

Charlotte grinned as Blaine's blushing face and defensive replies. This was almost like what actual sibling relationships were supposed to be like, with an older sister teasing her younger brother about her crushes. "That's adorable," she said, unable to stop herself from giggling a little. She pulled out her phone and checked her instagram, which was popping with some great comments (over the years she managed to carve a small following, which she loved).

She shook her head as Blaine kept his answer so short; that was a lot more telling than anything else. "It's not like I'm going to tell anybody," Charlotte said, "if that's what you're worried about. I know some people think I'm, like, Loose-Lips Lottie, but I have kept plenty of secrets. Though I think making a picnic for him probably makes some people suspicious, even if he's so high key weird about relationships." She thought briefly about Tic and wondered how he felt about her. Seeing as he was twins with one of her best friends, she figured she couldn't hate her, but now that he was getting close to her brother, that image was probably soured. Charlotte was curious about the whole relationship in general, but she knew Blaine had no interest in telling her any of it.

BLAINE

Blaine could feel himself blushing even more as she kept on him about it, and if he wasn't driving he would have been covering his face, which would have made it all worse. He just shook his head and tried to keep it together. "It wasn't like that," he said when she brought up the picnic. "We were just there for a really long time, I thought it might be nice to have some healthy snacks, that's all." He let out a bit of a huff; he knew there was no point in denying this to her anymore, but he was still going to do it anyway.

"We really are just friends. So if you could not talk about whatever you think is happening here, I really would appreciate it." He just didn't want more questions from other people. His sister asking was one thing. He looked over at her and gave her a small smile, hoping that even with whatever thoughts were going through her head, that she understood.

It wasn't much longer before Blaine was pulling into the driveway of Charlotte's apartment. He put the car in park and looked over at her, and not really sure how he was feeling anymore. It was kind of hard to think about being mad at his dad when all he could think about was Atticus.

CHARLOTTE

Charlotte nodded, trying not to get irritated as he seemed to assume she was really going to spread that all around town or something. No one would probably really even find it that interesting, honestly. "I won't tell anyone, I swear," she said, though she wondered if Kurt was going to count as part of that. He probably knew something by now, right? Seeing her brother finally cracking a smile again made her feel a little better about the whole night at least.

Once they got to her place, she hesitated. Charlotte knew since they were actually talking and not yelling that it was only a matter of time before the fighting started. That meant she had to leave before things got bad. She looked over at Blaine for a moment and then looked back at her lap. She opened up her purse and handed over a small wrapped package. "Happy birthday," Charlotte said softly.

It was a simple keychain she saw a few weeks ago, just a small Simba design. When he opened it, she said, "It made me think of you." She wasn't sure how much Blaine remembered it, or how much he'd cherish those memories, but when she first got sick, they brought a TV to her room, an old one with only a VHS player. Blaine would come in and watch The Lion King with her, one of the few VHS tapes they still had at that point. It was hard wrapping her head around the fact that they had changed so much since then.

After another moment, she closed her purse and started gathering her things. She knew Blaine hadn't gotten her anything. Hey, if she hadn't seen that keychain, she probably wouldn't have gotten him anything, either, so she couldn't blame him, even if she was kind of hurt. "I guess I should go."

BLAINE

Blaine wasn't sure what Charlotte was waiting for as they sat in the driveway, but then she pulled out a tiny wrapped box from her purse and handed it to him. He kind of thought she was kidding at first, because he couldn't remember the last time they had exchanged gifts, but he took it and carefully opened it, his stomach dropping when he saw what it was. He knew exactly why she'd given it to him; he remembered those days very clearly, being so scared that his sister was sick and worrying every time she had to go to the hospital that she wouldn't come home. He'd been by her side every second back when it all started, watching movies and singing and making her laugh just to make sure she hadn't forgotten how.

It made him sad to think about how much things had changed, and as he stared down at the keychain, he felt a prickling sensation in the back of his eyes. Fortunately he willed it away quickly, looking up at his sister.

"I love it," he said with a small, genuine smile, taking it out of the box and running his thumb over it. "Thank you. Really." He hadn't gotten her anything, and he knew that she knew that, and even though they hadn't in years, it still made him feel like absolute garbage.

He put the keychain back in the box and set it on the center console, then did something he hadn't done in a long time. He leaned over and wrapped his arms around his sister, giving her a hug. He swallowed hard as he rubbed her back for a moment, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek as he pulled away.

"Happy birthday," he said as he looked at her, trying harder than he'd had to all night to not let his voice shake. "Have fun tomorrow."

CHARLOTTE

Charlotte paused her movements when Blaine said he loved it, flashing a genuine smile. "Really?" she asked quietly. "You're welcome." Honestly half of her philosophy of just enjoying life was probably partially based off of all the watches of The Lion King, Hakuna Matata style. "I mean, there was sadly no Timon, but I thought Simba was okay." She had always colored him to Timon since they were kids, since he was a little guy and, well, gay. Not that they knew that as kids, but whatever.

When he started leaning over, she was a bit unsure of what was happening, but then Blaine was hugging her. A few moments later she wrapped her arms back around him, wondering when was the last time they did that. When he pulled away, he gave her a kiss on the cheek, and she felt herself starting to tear up. Which was embarrassing.

"You, too," she said as steadily as possible. She gave him a shaky smile before opening the door, grabbing her stuff, and going over to her building. Once she got inside, she wiped under her eyes and sat back down to get ready for her next dose of medicine. She still wasn't sure what that night was or if it helped anything, but she kind of had a weird urge to watch The Lion King again.

BLAINE

Blaine watched as Charlotte left, waiting until she was inside the apartment before looking away. He pulled out his phone again, texting Atticus to tell him he was going back to his apartment soon.

Once he set his phone down, he picked up the keychain again, watching as it spun when he held it from his fingertip. For as much as Blaine had been agonizing over this dinner, he was definitely not feeling the way he thought he would.

#para #para: 001 #blaine #para: blaine

2 notes · View notes