#we get to see him roll down a metaphorical and literal hill of pain

[1rabong]

Amidst the seas of red

From @lara60 ‘s fic Dark Matter

Iryo chill

#cw gore #cw blood #someone help our poor boi #Boros is just having the worst day of his life #guys go read this fic it’s amazing #we get to see Boros before he was all big and strong #we get to see him roll down a metaphorical and literal hill of pain #it’s great #dark matter #opm #one punch man #boros #lord boros #fanfic #art #my art #fanart

[fallouttboy]

and what if i said that heaven, iowa is a song about chicago?

heaven, iowa is clearly a california song (mulholland drive is name dropped lol) and also a reference to field of dreams, but see, it feels so much more personal than either of those things.

pete has said a few times during tourdust that it’s a song about drinking a bottle of screwtop wine and driving off a cliff. which, yeah. it is. but it is also a song about eternal unattainable love and the pain that comes from it, self reflection, being too aware of who you are as a person.

i immediately latched onto the time: 6 am. why are you, first of all, drinking wine at six in the morning? why are you alone (save for moonlight sonata) in a car on mulholland drive? at six in the morning???

personally, i’ve always read it as a deep state of dissatisfaction, probably from an extremely depressed pov, one where you don’t feel much of anything. the kind that’s impossible to describe to someone if they’ve never been through it themselves. the kind where you sit alone in a car listening to beethoven on repeat with a screwtop bottle of wine, watching the sun rise over bright and sunny california while you feel like the deadest trees in the coldest winter.

the change up of star crossed lovers to scar crossed lovers packs such a punch it makes me ache. the beautiful tragedy of romeo and juliet’s love, somehow, pushed into a more tragic scene. the lovers who quite literally died for each other, couldn’t live without the other. in this lyric, they lived. scar crossed. they carry that death, they carry the weight of their unattainable love, they hold the weight and the pressure and misery of their love and wear it as a locket. you look so good in blue.

the car as a symbol of this wallowing in self pity, in misery, is incredibly prominent and fragile and it breaks my heart. the pov is from someone who is in control of the car. we don’t know where they’re sitting, but they have the keys. they can drive away. they can leave. but they stay. they lock themselves in the car and stay and rot in their misery, as right or wrong of them to do. i use the words rot and wallowing with their full meanings-pov is not just sitting in contemplation, or they wouldn’t have the wine. they wouldn’t be parked on a road at sunrise. they wouldn’t be listening to moonlight sonata as the sun comes up. they are there to be in the emotion, regardless of how bad it makes them feel (or, maybe, in my opinion, because of how bad it makes them feel).

so what does this have to do with chicago?

it’s pete.

pete thinks in drawn out metaphors and contradicting allegories. he writes life as a long winded prose novel. he is every english major’s worst enemy and wettest dream.

one of the big symbols in his chicago-set pseudo-autobiographical novel gray was driving away when things got bad, either physically or mentally. pov would drive out and away and be gone and his friends would worry but that’s fine because he’d always come back unless he didn’t. and who cares if he didn’t? it’s not like he has friends who are stressed when he bounces or a girlfriend partner sex buddy scar crossed lover forever. it’s not like he has her or Her or them. the chemistry is a mess, it seems. who cares if he drives out into lake michigan at 3 in the morning? it’s just him and his music and his car and chicago.

just like it always has been, even across the country. lake michigan’s rough tides aren’t too dissimilar to the pacific’s normal ones. the waves of lake michigan mimic the rolls of hollywood hills. driving into the waves or driving off of the cliff-it’s all the same. baby please, would you read my eulogy?

and, just a little fun tidbit i love to think about: he’s comparing life (at least in the bridge) to a snow globe: shake things up and see what comes down. los angeles doesn’t get snow, but you know who does? and is, dare i say, known for it in a way? chicago. shake things up (move a lake effect kid to hollywood) and see what comes down (him).

#mine #w #fob #smfs

[fandom-space-princess]

The Game of Us

Rating: T (gen, no warnings)

Chapter 2: Gabriel

A crevice splits the earth, clean through the center of the circular clearing. Beyond the crevice a woman is seated on a low stone. Her eyes are covered by a crimson blindfold, the only color he has yet seen in this realm. It stands in sharp contrast to her bone-white skin and hair, a slash of silken blood by which to obscure her vision.

Though he makes no sound, she smiles as he approaches. “Michael.” The sound of her voice fills him with a nameless relief. He has never heard that voice, and still, he knows her like a heartbeat.

Read below the cut, or on AO3

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

Upstream, the path breaks away from the river, and turns inland among low rolling foothills. Memory of a memory: for the living, these hills would have been warm and verdant, groves of olive trees. As it is, this murky reflection of life is still the closest Michael has come to the world since his descent into this desolate realm. Part of him, the part that stirs accusations like betrayal and failure in his mind like water circling a drain, yearns to lose himself in the embrace of it. To sink back beneath the surface and go no further.

He presses on.

As the path narrows and twists among the trees, air heavy with the scents of forest and the distant sea, Michael hears the low murmur of a crowd. The sounds grow more distinct as he climbs. This too is strange: human crowds have no place here, in an inhuman afterlife. When at last the tree line breaks and the path spills abruptly into a clearing, he stares uncomprehending for long moments, absorbing the sight before him.

This was a temple, once. Ages gone, this would have been a marvel of solemn grandeur. Now only ruins remain, although they are surrounded by the spectral aura of the structures they must once have been. Looked at straight on, Michael sees crumbling plinths, broken marble columns supporting the remnants of ornate entablature around a circle of grass and shattered stone. If he squints, however, the afterimages come into sharper relief. Haunted by the ghosts of architecture long fallen to ruin, this place yet remembers what it was.

It is haunted by more than that.

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

The rough amphitheater in which he finds himself is crowded. Shades mill nearby, shadowy and indistinct, seated or standing and whispering among themselves. Their numbers are beyond counting: thousands, perhaps? More? He takes them for human, at first, or the memory of human. But then one’s perambulations lead it toward him, and before he can think to move the shade passes straight through him. It continues on without acknowledgement, and he is overcome by a sense of deep unease.

The creature had felt... angelic. Mindless, unthinking, but unmistakable for anything but grace, rather than soul.

The focal point of the shades lies ahead, at the base of the crumbling colonnade. A crevice splits the earth, clean through the center of the circular clearing. Beyond the crevice a woman is seated on a low stone. Her eyes are covered by a crimson blindfold, the only color he has yet seen in this realm. It stands in sharp contrast to her bone-white skin and hair, a slash of silken blood by which to obscure her vision.

Though he makes no sound, she smiles as he approaches. “Michael.” The sound of her voice fills him with a nameless relief. He has never heard that voice, and still, he knows her like a heartbeat.

He steps across the crevice in one long stride. As he does, he can’t help but look down and into it: the same frigid black waters that had led him here rumble past beneath the crust of rock at its lip. Michael settles beside the stone, facing outward into the theatre, mimicking her. “Gabriel. You’re... what are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know. Taking in the scenery.”

One of the shades cuts free of the larger mass of figures. It drifts closer, apparently with purpose, and when it reaches the bare earth opposite Gabriel, it kneels. Michael regards it with wary curiosity.

“They’re here for prophecy,” Gabriel supplies, in response to his unspoken inquiry. “The humans used to come to this place to lay offerings before their fortunetellers. I visited, once or twice. Way back when.” She hums, head bowed slightly, hands folded motionless in her lap. “I liked it better then. Much more lively. This incarnation lacks a certain je ne sais quoi.”

She turns her attention to the shade before her, unseeing but knowing, somehow, that it waits there.

The shade bows low in deference. Tell me what tomorrow holds for me, it asks, voice fleeting as an autumn breeze.

“An interesting question,” she replies. Her words are warm and indulgent. “What did today hold for you? If you’re willing to tell me, I’d like to know.”

The shade appears puzzled by the request. Nevertheless, it responds. I saw a death, at the end of a silver blade. Light and pain before, only smoke and ash after. A falling, a sinking, into the darkness and the silence. And then a rising, awakening, only to see the death again. Over and over I saw the death, until I grew heavy with dread, and found myself here. It pauses its recitation, suddenly pensive. I think the death was mine.

She opens her hands before her, palms up, a sweeping gesture that invites the shade to continue. A texture along her wrist glimmers, unexpected. For the first time, Michael looks closely at Gabriel’s form. Minute scales swirl along patches of her skin. They are pearlescent and smooth, softly aglow under the ever-present half-light.

“Tell me more. What did you learn from it? How did it make you feel?”

The shade mutters on, its voice rising and falling in cadence with the rush of water at their feet. Eventually it tapers off, settling back on its heels. It seems less substantial than before, in a way Michael finds difficult to define, ethereal form wispy and unburdened. Gabriel inclines her head in acknowledgement, and the spirit fades away, melting back into the crowd.

“You aren’t a prophet, Gabriel,” Michael observes. She tilts her head toward him, grinning. In her mouth he sees the flash of fangs.

“No,” she agrees readily. “I’m not. But I am a messenger. Or I was. And this place has such interesting ways of making its points. Metaphorical, if not necessarily colorful.” She smiles again, chuckles at her own joke.

“But you offered no guidance. No message, prophetic or otherwise.”

“Oh, Mikey. Always so literal-minded. But you’re right. Being here has given me so much to think about. Maybe it’s time I stopped with the talking, and took up listening.”

She uncrosses her legs from the stone, and moves to kneel on the ground before it. Her knees push out over the cusp of the crevice. Her feet emerge from beneath the fraying edge of her skirt, clawed and scaled. Michael extends a hand tentatively. Brushes the tips of his fingers along the scales at the curve of her ankle, feeling the staticky-smooth keratinous edges. She reaches out, and takes his hand in her own. Squeezes once, then lets it fall away.

“Brother?” Michael asks, although he’s not entirely certain what it is he seeks to hear from her.

“I woke up in this form.” She shrugs. “I could change it, if I wanted, but I think it suits my current occupation. She lived here, once. A nuisance to pretty much everybody in the area, this creature was killed for the mischief and misfortunes she inflicted on the region’s inhabitants and their livestock. Her bones were laid into the foundations when it was built. Now she sleeps, and she listens.” She shivers. “That’s her judgement. That’s her penance.”

“Why is any of this here, Gabriel? Do you know? A being awoke me on the shore, told me to find you. It says it needs us—that we must move on from here. It wasn’t the Shadow. I don’t know what it was.”

She laughs aloud at that, a sound that rings out in echoes, vanishing among the shades. “You really don’t know? Bro, that’s unobservant even for you. You just have to listen harder. Knowledge is easy to come by here, if you pay attention. As for the river, this river—” She leans down to trail her fingers through the crest of a wave. Flicks the water playfully at Michael. “Old man always had a sense for theatrics. ‘Behold, for before you lies the river Styx.’ As good a way as any to make his point. River of judgement: either it makes you invulnerable, or poisons you, and the only way to find out which you get is to roll the dice.”

Michael is silent for several long seconds, something icy and desperate in his throat. Finally: “Will you go, then? Move on, to whatever awaits us next?”

Gabriel’s hands rise to the sides of her face. She draws the blindfold delicately up and off, silk trickling through her fingers like river water. She blinks back at Michael. Her pupils are slitted, snakelike.

Ignoring his question, she takes his chin in her hand. Appraises him, gently tilting his head this way and that as she studies the image he wears. “Still carrying that torch, huh? Well, I won’t deny that he was good for you. But maybe raise your gaze a little, ok?” Her thumb strokes over his cheek, once, and her lips quirk into an affectionate half-smile. Then her hand falls away, and she turns, studying the water. “You don’t have to keep defining yourself by what you were, or what you did. You can choose something else, you know?”

She inhales deeply, steadying herself. Michael can only watch as, trembling faintly, she dips her hands into the waters of the Styx. Drawing her cupped hands to her mouth, she glances back at him one final time.

“But then, what do I know? I’ve carried out enough judgement for one lifetime. See you on the other side, Mike.”

She lowers her mouth to the water, and drinks, and dissolves away into the mist.

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

(Chapter notes:

- The form Gabriel has taken in this chapter is the body of the Delphyne, the half-serpent maiden who is said to have inhabited the caves in the upper slopes of Mount Parnassus. Her death at the hands of Apollo is associated with the founding of Delphi, the location which serves as the primary inspiration for this scene.)

#eh it's been 14 hours that's long enough between chapters #spnarchangelweek #day 1 gabriel #spn archangels #michael spn #gabriel spn #raphael spn #lucifer spn #my fanfic #spn #supernatural

[finnofamerica]

The Black & White - Dwalin x Reader

Summary: Everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate. Additionally, when your soulmate dies, everything goes back to black and white.

Word count: 1,133

Date Posted: 05.19.2020

Note: A very special thanks to @saviorsong​ for helping me get over my dead brain. Please go over to her page and show her some love! 

|| Masterlist || 

While Bilbo was away on his adventure, you kept a close eye on Bag End. Tending to the lawn and flowers, ensuring that his home was clean. The moment Bilbo returned home, he paid you a visit and thanked you for keeping his home in order. 

You were quite the scheduled little Hobbit. Every Tuesday you had tea at four with Bilbo, and every Thursday you delivered the vegetables. Bilbo was quite useless at growing a lot of things, so you picked up the slack for your cousin’s cousin. You liked your routine and your cushy homey life, but you were a little envious of Bilbo’s stories of his adventures. 

Dwalin loved Erebor, but in these past months of settling something was calling him back into the wild. Fond of the Hobbit, and knowing he’d have a place to rest, Dwalin made his way out of Erebor to Hobbiton. 

He took in a deep breath as he reached a view of Hobbiton, the little hovels peaking out from the hills, the surrounding farmland bursting with colors. The neighbors gave him strange looks as he made his way up the familiar path to Bilbo’s. He tied his pony’s reigns to the fence, giving her a good pat, before heading up the narrow path in Bilbo’s yard. Following the advice he received so long ago, Dwalin didn’t bother knocking - just walking right in. 

“Bilbo?” He called into the Hobbit home. Dwalin heard a scuffling of feet, then the Bilbo skidded into view. 

“Dwalin.” Bilbo broke out into a smile. “Come, You’re just in time for tea.” 

The old dwarf was happy to have a moment of rest, enjoy the company of the familiar little man. 

Dwalin settled easily into the Hobbit’s home and when Thursday rolled around he was surprised to see you standing at the Hobbit’s door with a wheelbarrow full of vegetables. 

“Oh, hello,” You tucked your hair behind your ear, watching as his eyes shifted from grey to blue. “Is Bilbo there?” 

He grunted, stepping to the side when he heard the hobbit in question approaching. 

“I have your vegetables, Bilbo,” You grinned, “I brought you extra squash.” 

“Thank you, Y/n,” Bilbo grinned, “Would you like to come in for lunch?” 

“Oh, I probably shouldn’t, seeing as you already have company.” Quite handsome company, you thought. Bilbo looked over his shoulder to see Dwalin keeping a careful eye on the conversation. 

“Oh dear me, how rude. Y/n, this is Dwalin, and old friend from my journey.” 

You gave Dwalin a smile and a shy wave. You were curious about the dwarf, and not just because you were seeing the world in brilliant color. Dwalin just gave you a nod, not letting on how his heart was thundering in his chest at your beauty. His dull world now in full bloom. 

He was dumbfounded as he watched you walk away. After a long moment, he closed the door. 

“Bilbo, who was that?” He asked. 

“Y/n, my cousin of sorts, excellent farmer, even better baker. She’ll be coming around for tea on Tuesday.” Bilbo said though he’d never known the dwarf curious about others, at least not that he let on. 

As promised you were back on Tuesday, sitting down for tea with Bilbo, Dwalin joining you shortly after. 

“So, Bilbo, have I heard all your stories, or do you have a few more up your sleeve?” You asked, drizzling some golden dandelion honey in your lemon tea. Bilbo thought for a moment. 

“I’m not sure, perhaps,” He frowned, “Did I tell you the one about the Elves?” 

“The River elves or the Forest elves?” 

“I suppose I’ve told you all them then.” Bilbo frowned. Noticing the disappointed look on your face, Dwalin cleared his throat and began diving in a story about his travels after Smaug’s siege on Erebor. His deep voice was soothing, but his story of the dangers he faced kept you on the edge of your seat. 

The look in your eyes made it easier for Dwalin to tell the story. Your eyes watered at his pain and you smiled at his joy, hanging on to his words. In a way, you reminded him of when Fili, Kili, and Ori were younger. 

That became Dwalin’s favorite part of the week in the few months he stayed there. You stopping by for tea at the same time every Tuesday. He’d be lying if he didn’t say that he hadn’t prepared a story for you every week. 

When you dropped off vegetables you’d stand on Bilbo’s front porch chatting with asking Dwalin your little questions about the mountain, and with each one, his heart ached more. He missed his home and his friends, but at the same time, he didn’t want to leave you. 

“Dwalin, may I confess something?” You asked one Tuesday afternoon after Bilbo had left you alone with your tea to read one of his many books. 

Dwalin nodded, his chest aching with anticipation and nerves. 

“Since we met, my world has been so colorful - literally, not in the metaphorical sense. I guess I was wondering if maybe it was the same for you?” You ducked your head trying to cover the blush on your face. He loved the color. 

“It is.” He said simply. Though it hurt his heart to admit as much, he knew he’d have to leave soon if he wanted to make it over the mountains before winter set in. Though he’d spend every moment he had with you until then. 

You beamed at him, the relief in your eyes was overwhelming. 

. . . 

When the day finally came, he left early morning, stopping by your smial. Dwalin wasn’t normally a nervous man, but then again he was sailing into vastly uncharted waters. Finally, he knocked, the sound resonating through the little home. 

It wasn’t long before the door swung open, revealing you in your nightgown and robe. 

“Dwalin?” You yawned rubbing your eyes, “What’re you doing here so early?” 

“I’m heading back to the mountain, and - Mahal - I know I have no right to ask this but, I was wondering if you’d come with me?” His ears turning a soft red in the morning light. Your eyes widened as you registered what his question was. 

“To Erebor?” You asked, not sure if you were hearing him right. He just nodded patiently awaiting your answer. You swallowed, this was your chance for an adventure. “I’ll pack.” 

Dwalin let out a sigh of relief, breaking into a smile. Timflur would be able to handle the weight of both of you, she was a strong pony. You came out not too long later, a bag packed over your shoulder. You left a letter on your kitchen counter for Bilbo, and the Shire never saw you again. 

Tags: @moony-artnstuff​ @lilith15000​ @msjava1972​ @fizzyxcustard​ @aspiring-ginger​ 

#dwalin x reader #the hobbit x reader #finn writes #full length #soulmate au

[thunderheadfred]

Why I Love Spike But Also Hate Him A Lot: an unsolicited essay by me

OR: Why I personally relate to blood-sucking poseurs OR: dude what if I ever got high enough to rewrite season six?

(under a cut because this goes on for a while. also discourse frightens me)

Okay. I’m like twenty years late. But I’ve been rewatching BtVS s5 during my latest depression spiral and wandering against my better judgement into the Spuffy fic verse. Disclaimer that my grasp of the series’ larger canon is meh at best, and frankly I don’t care.

As usual, I have too many thoughts.

Spike is, hands-down, my favorite character on this show. Maybe one of my favorite characters, period. He’s just... good to watch. But listen. Secret poet or no, he was never an inherently good person. Meek and shy does not equal Buffy’s equal. I squirm at this apparently massively popular canon interpretation of his human character as some kind of adorable perfect cherub, as if William the Dipshit Poet is somehow preferable to Spike the Complicated Murderer or like, we should just automatically assume that cute shy white people who lived in 1880 London are default Lawful Good when in fact... ahahaa haaaa YIKES COLONIALISM?

I actually think the reason Spike is “more human” than other vampires (in the weird, contradictory Buffy soul-canon) is exactly because William was not Pure, he was a Pratt. Sweet? I guess. Loves his mum? He’s got that going for him. But that guy?? Is not Buffy’s long-lost true love, not a weepy ghost to be shoved into Spike’s Billy Idol cosplay bod at the last minute. In a show that, at its best, tries to give us a protagonist who fundamentally believes we must always make the choice to keep living mindfully, accountably, and with purpose... we get a love interest who is... Spike. A guy who, until the very end of his arc, acts as though he has zero fucking free will. Even though, through a combo of deliciously fun and inconsistent writing, Spike is apparently the only vampire in the Buffyverse who does.

I’ll get to that but first, let’s accept for a minute that Free Will + Buffy = good, and people who roll over and say “I had no choice” + Buffy = Mr. Pointy. This counts for her friends too, (*coughWILLOWcough*) and it’s one of the reasons I love the show despite its many textual problems. As a character piece, it’s great. People fail to take accountability for their behavior all the time. It’s an extraordinarily human flaw, one that rarely equals automatically evil, and I love that it can bite characters on the side of good, too. But that’s not the point of this, oh shit!

Okay. William, cute glasses aside, has no free will. He didn’t even sign up for the vampire thing, he just wanted to get felt up by a pretty girl who saw him cry and didn’t laugh at him. At every point, he was an immature, weak-willed, naive dreamer type who wanted nothing more than to be validated by his shitty friends. The vampirism made him a killer, yeah. But it also inadvertently gave a cowardly nobody a lot of good qualities. Now he’s a weirdly observant, relentlessly optimistic, fun-loving, sexually secure Cool Guy who gave up poetry for punk... but still tries too hard to impress his shitty friends. Basically, being a vampire made this guy a happier-but-still-undeniably-crappy version of himself, especially... considering all the murder. 

But now, let us transparently and metaphorically link cartoonish Vamp!Murder to addiction. Because wow, death in BtVS is either a manipulative authorial gut-punch or a dumb joke, and either way, it’s almost impossible to take seriously in this show, so let’s not.

How to make a remorseless bloodsucking fiend out of of “boo hoo I’m a bad writer and I wish some jerks thought I was cool?” Ha ha you can’t!  Turns out you basically recreate my early twenties but with more murder. Spike is a socially-dependent ADHD art school reject on a century-long avoidance bender. He’s a codependent, moon-eyed boyfriend who learns how to aggressively project not caring while caring Far Too Much, all while clinging to aesthetic as an identity. ALTHOUGH let us not deny that he 100% enjoyed all the killing - wtf so much killing - because for vampires, killing equals pleasure, and charming, “happy” addicts always justify the comforts of their vices. He talks the talk cuz fitting in is his whole deal, but he’s not actually in it for chaos and destruction or any high-falutin’ evil reason, or even really for eating delicious ladies but because, in the end, it feels good and the only girlfriend he’s ever had thinks eating people is cool. Even his whole (gorgeous, splendid to watch) episode-long speech about killing two slayers was written more for Buffy’s character arc than his; we don’t really know why he killed the slayers other than like, “Because they had a death wish I guess. Side note: it was fun.”

There wasn’t much legitimately vengeful or hateful stuff in sad little William for demon!Spike to work with, and apparently William’s soul-or-whatever moved about twelve inches over his left shoulder and stayed there, occasionally poking him for the next hundred years. So it should shock no one that he immediately switches sides when a) his girlfriend dumps him, b) his addiction suddenly hurts, and c) it’s time to impress a new friend group.

I get that Spike’s whole soul-getting between s6 and s7 has been interpreted in fanon as a grand romantic sacrifice (ehhhhhhhhhhhh) and I get why that’s tempting, but the show itself bungled that up way bad and I just can’t get behind it. R*pe idiocy aside, making it ultimately all about Buffy just kinda cheapens what could have been a really fucking powerful redemption arc, one that would have led to a far more satisfying love story. Especially from Buffy’s perspective. 

Okay listen.

We have a guy who has been playing the “duh, Vampire!” card for a century, pleasure-seeking and self-centered, pandering to various peer groups, murderous or otherwise, a happy addict, impervious to change. So when finally, after a HUNDRED SODDING YEARS of being a soulless, hilarious dick, Spike has consequences shoved into his gray matter by the government, he doesn’t change. At all. He just starts obsessing over another woman, doing what he thinks she wants. A woman he thinks will give him new pleasures, a new, perpetually fine status quo. But this woman is Buffy, whose identity is rock solid even though her life is constantly full of challenge and change and choices. She “rewards” Spike only when he makes willful, selfless decisions. And the rewards aren’t romantic, either. Not early on. Even in canon, she keeps rejecting him over and over again, for crystal clear reasons. Thank god. Because when he accepts that she’ll never have him, but still does the hard stuff anyway, he’s unwittingly starting to change. It’s not just Buffy. Buffy demands real personhood. Independence. Identity. Choice. 

Uh oh. She’s gotten to him, then. Though it starts out selfish, he still makes a CHOICE. Quite literally, he takes on the pain of self-improvement - first by embracing the consequences of his chip, later by going on his fancy sparkly soul quest. Buffy is the catalyst, no doubt, because once a poet always a poet and girls are pretty, but Spike’s path to improvement (if not redemption) was already there, laid out nice and neat. His narrative low point, the lightbulb moment that makes him want a soul again, should never have come out of a season of terrible backsliding, culminating in the shower scene we all regret.

It should have been The Gift. 

Death isn’t Buffy’s gift. It’s love. And not that simpering, easy kind of love that just says, “there there,” but the hard, truthful love that makes you want to keep getting that goddamn rock from the bottom of the hill. Yes, Spike’s arc should still be about Buffy, it’s Buffy’s show, but it should have been more about the hole she left behind. Not just in Spike but in the world. 

What’s left? This latest and greatest group of people who have so far RIGHTLY rejected a demon whose sole motivator seems to be comfort. And maybe when these particular people hit rock bottom, they have enough wisdom to see a monster down in the dark and recognize themselves. Maybe Dawn (whose humanizing effect on Spike has been nearly as important as his obsession with Buffy) shows him that rare, rare thing called Validation. And oh god, he realizes he’s never actually moved beyond trying to sell effulgence to Cecily Whatsherface, that he’s been sitting on his own grave for a hundred years, waiting for someone to coddle and fix him, and now the only woman who might have, the best woman, literally the one girl chosen one above all others... is gone. This would be a good time to die. 

Or...

...maybe there is no magic soul cave, maybe he tries to end it and makes the CHOICE not to. Chooses to stay and help, because what else is there? Then BAM! it just slams back into him in a way that hurts like you can’t even believe, because admitting how bad you’ve fucked up is the most painful moment of a lifetime and I’ve lived it and I wish I’d had a hellmouth to jump into, but the Scoobies pull him back, and he takes care of Dawn until life seems to have some meaning again, then Buffy comes out of the earth traumatized and broken and no one is better equipped to help her than a recovering Spike, not because he’s magically her rock but because he’s also learning how to roll his own rock and keep on climbing, because Camus ruined us all for metaphors...

THE END

Anyway. As a recovering addict and toxic person who has been struggling a lot recently... who wants to improve and be able to give more to the people I love, Spike has an arc that just like... cuts me deep, man. Especially because of what should have been.

#I'm also afraid to tag this as anything #haha aaa aa #uh

[neko-inu-twins]

by Neko-Inu-Twins

Art by @zeroa5raven​ A/N; Meant to post this earlier WHOOPS- 

     "Aaaand Stay out!!" Cuphead yelled, kicking the devil in the rear as he ran out of the casino, tail between his legs, arm in a sling, completely banged up after being defeated from the dynamic duo- Cuphead and Mugman. The brothers both throwing themselves a victory, as The devil ran for the hills, But aside from all this..Where was King dice?

"Hey bro...Where do you think King dice is? We haven't seen much of him since we defeated him." Mugman turned to his brother, who had his hands placed on his hips, brimming with pride, but his prideful stance faltered as he looked at his worried brother, as he scratched his head in thought. "Uhm ...I'm not sure, bro." Cuphead retorted, scoffing slightly. "But who cares? He's the bad guy, Remember?" Cuphead playfully punched his brother's arm, as mugman stood there, deep in thought. "Aaahh, come on, mug. Don't be like that...Oh! Tell you what-" Cuphead's eyes widened and he smiled as an idea popped into that little head of his, as he grabbed mugman's shoulder, and whispered to him, explaining his little plan. Mugman's eyes lighting up, with the slightest of grins ~~~ King dice panted heavily, as he looked around the casino, everything still in good condition, but the devil's throne... in shambles, what was he going to do without his partner? He was his right-hand man, without the devil, there'd be no deals to make, gambling would be pointless. he sighed, falling to his knees, and looked at his hands with those three-fingered gloves. "I'm ruined.." King dice said with a frown, wincing and rubbing his shoulder. "Those damn Kids sure packed one hell of a Wallop." Dice grunted while standing up. His knees shook, taking one last look around before he gasped looking around wearily. "K-kids! They'll come back to finish me off, no doubt!" Dice chewed his fingers, nail clippings falling to the floor. "I'd better Scram!" and in a panic, he took off running down the hall, looking for a place to hide from those meddling kids ~~~ "So, I say we teach him a little lesson, show him how things are gonna work around here from now on, What do you think, Mug?" Cup grinned, bouncing up and down in excitement. "I love it! -But...We're not going to hurt him any more than we had to, right?" Mug shuddered at the thought of having to hurt any more people than they need to. "What? No nonono- No! Of course not, Everything'll be fine, mug~" Cup smiled at his brother, tugging his arm. "Come on, Let's go find the Crazy Gambler." Cup giggled, opening the door to the casino. "Dice? Diiiice!" Cup called out, glancing around the empty casino, lights flashing, and machines still functioning perfectly, like nothing had ever happened. "Where do you think he is, Cup?" Mugman looked around, wandering off into the casino, looking behind a potted plant, lifting up the plant and dirt, to see if he was inside the pot. "Not sure... But If I were him- he'd be hiding... Not sure why, though." Cup shrugged, Mug dropped the plant back into the pot, giving cup a look of disbelief, and he rolled his eyes, eyes scanning the terrain, he spotted the Devil's throne, and what did he see? only a small bit of tattered Purple cloth lying behind the Throne, with the slight sound of chattering teeth. "Aha!" Mug smiled brightly, grabbing cup's shoulder and shaking it. "cup, Cup! There he is~!" mug grinned, looking at his brother. "Great job, bro!" cup smiled as they both ran to the throne, peeking around both sides of the large chair, fit for a king. But instead, the king was cowering in fear. "Mr. King Dice? Wh- " Mug spoke up, only to be interrupted by Dice screaming, jumping to his feet, and backing away. "Wh-what do you two want?! Leave me alone, already!" Dice slowly walked backward, tripping over his shoes, and falling onto the floor, wincing in pain. "Get him!!" Cup grinned and pointed at dice, pulling his pants up, ready to pounce. "G'AHH!!" Dice whimpered, scrambling to his feet, making a bee-line for the exit, only for mugman to jump out from behind a corner in front of dice. The man screeched to a halt, Turning around to run back to the throne, to find cuphead sitting in it, one leg crossed over the other, smirking fondly at Dice. King Dice grimaced in response, and he looked around in a panic as the two brothers walked toward him, Dice backed up into a corner, fearing for his life. "P-Please, Leave me be!" Dice begged, sliding down against the wall. "What more do you want, Cupface?!" "What do we want?" Cup looked at mug with a smirk. "Go get it." He jerked his head back indicating mug to go fetch the 'thing'. Dice watched as mug disappeared for a few moments, only to return, with something hidden behind his back, Mug's eyes sparkling while cup grinned, standing over dice, only making the man cower in fear more. Dice mentally prayed for his life, and he shut his eyes tightly and covering his head, waiting for the final blow from these sadistic brats. But...Nothing... before dice even managed to look up at the two kids, They pounced, tackling Dice to the floor. cup grabbing dice's arms, and holding them behind his back. "Hold still, now. Please don't wiggle too much-" Mug said reassuringly, as Dice struggled underneath the two kids, as mug pulled out a rope, tying his hands together. mumbling to himself as he tied the knot. "...crisscrossing railroad tracks..make em' tight... Loop the bunny ears, And around the tree..through the tunnel and..Pull!" Mug smiled, as he monologued his way of tying a knot, he seemed proud of his tight knot, Dice squirmed uncomfortably. What the hell were these two up to..? Cup and mug turned Dice over onto his side, Cuphead letting out a sigh, He leaned his elbow against dice's side, looking down at the restrained gambler with a grin. "Well, bro. I guess it's true what they say; You gamble with Fire, You're going to get burned..~" Cup smirked at mug, who was sitting on Dice's legs, playing with his shoes, eventually tying Dice's shoelaces together. "That's a good literal statement, Cup!" Mug looked over his shoulder back at cup and smiled. "It...Was a metaphor, -Anywho!" Cup looked down at dice with a grin, offering a poke to dice's rib "Wanna know what we've got planned for you~?" Cup took notice and smiled as he saw the man give a flinch, and an uncomfortable squirm. "D-Dare I ask??" Dice stammered, looking down at the floor. Since he's got nothing else to live for, he might as well ask. "I've got a Joke for you, Dicey~" Cup grinned, patting the man's sides like a drum, glancing down at him every few seconds with a smile. "wanna hear it?" Dice trembled slightly, as he choked out "If I must..." He said with a slightly strained voice. "Knock-Knock!" Cup started off- "Dice sighed, looking away. "Who's there...?" "Tickle!" Cup answered This startled Dice, as he scrunched his shoulders up, beginning to gain suspicion of what's about to happen to him. "What the H- 'Tickle Who'??" "We're Gonna Tickle You, Silly!" Mug blurted out, giggling to himself as he scooted further up on dice's legs, sitting on his hips, he smiled brightly down at him. "Of course! Why not??" Dice said sarcastically with a sigh, this is it- He's a ruined man, AND he's about to be humiliated, could this day get any worse?? "Soooo...Is that a Yes??" Mug bounced up and down excitedly, his eyes sparkling with joy. "What do you think?! And wipe that stupid look of yer' mug!" Dice snapped at the giddy cup brother. "W r o n g  a n s w e r." Cup growled, staring down at dice, his face darkening, the liquid in his cup-like head was simmering. "Cup?" Mug looked at his brother, who sighed, and smiled at his brother. "Have at it, mug!~" "Ngh!!-" Dice whimpered, he was so screwed. He bit his lip, as mug without hesitation dug his fingers into dice's lower sides. "Yeee~!" Mug squealed with delight, offering a light squeeze to dice's upper ribs. "Mpmmh!!- /Snrrk!/ MNhnhnhHNhN!" Dice shut his eyes tightly, trying to hold back his laughter, his shoulders silently shaking as he strained to keep his dignity "Holding back, Eh?" Cup smirked down at dice, and he shook his head. "That won't last you very long, boyo" Cup looked down at him, scanning his body for any place of interest, and he grinned. "Well, how about THIS!" Cup dug his fingers into the man's ribs, grinning down at him, which immediately threw the dice man into hysterics. "G'AHAHAHAhaHAhaHa!! //Gasp!// St-STOhop it!! STOP IIIIIT!" Dice thrashed, kicking his legs, which proved difficult due to mug sitting on them. He wheezed with deep gruff laughter, which somewhat sounded as if he's been smoking lately, Dice gasped and bucked his hips in an attempt to throw mug off. "KIHIHIhIHhihids!! KnohohoCK It OhOHOhoHOHOFF!!!" Dice threw his head back in laughter, glaring up at the two weakly. "Hmm, Possibly we can make up some sort of an arrangement... IF You're willing to stick with it" Cup smiled down at him. "Oooh! Can I tell him, bro?? Can I? Can I? Pleeease?!" Mug begged, smiling brightly, as he was still poking and prodding at dice's sides, just to keep him laughing, Which was working, Dice looked at both of the two kids with a confused look in his eyes, his laughter still as loud as ever "Sorry, mug, but he's gotta agree to our little deal before we can tell him~" Cup grinned, looking down at the dice man, who was squawking in higher-pitched laughter. "OhohOH GOD!! FIHIHINE! Hahaha!- FINE!! //Wheeze// JUST LEHEHET ME GOHOHOHO DAMMIT!!" Dice honked, hoping the kids would obey his pleads. Cup and mug looked at each other, and they smiled, and they both hopped off, mug pushing dice up, helping him sit up, to catch his breath, whispering 'Sorry, sorry, sorry!" up at him as he huffed deeply, hanging his head, his face flushed with a deep red in embarrassment. Could a dice blush? You wonder. "Now, You're gonna listen to what we've got to say, right?" Cup crossed his arms, grinning smugly. "Hff...Hff...H-Hahh.. I-It's not like I've got no other choice. Sh-...Shoot away, Kid." he grumbled, looking up at him, awaiting cups' offer. "First off- The Casino is still yours." Cup pointed out. "Throw out that awful devil's throne!" Mug added. "Keep it up and running, just like a normal ol' Casino, Up for anyone to play, and have fun in. No more contracts," cup crossed his arms "No more debtors! those poor guys deserve to be let off the hook." Mug piped up "And for Pete's sake-" "NO MORE DEVILS!" Mug interrupted cup, pushing him aside. Dice's eyes were wide, as he stared at the two, struggling to find the right words to say. "Ag-...Dgh...Wh-..?" Dice stammered, his tongue completely twisted "I know, I know, No need to thank us~" Cup bowed "Hold your applause, That is- If you could move your hands to clap with." Cup snickered, pointing at dice who was still up in ropes. "Oh! that's right!" Mug quickly untied his hands, letting Dice go. Dice rubbed his wrists, and he stood up shakily. "Don't worry! we ain't gonna kill you!~" Cup looked up at dice with a grin. "Unless you plan on going back on your word, Otherwise...-" "We'll be back for more!~" Mug giggled, wiggling his fingers, and growling playfully, Dice winced and backed away from Mug. "Ugh..-" "So whaddya say? 'Friends'?" Cup put his hand out to dice for a handshake. "Dice looked down at cup, and he hesitated for a moment, before reaching for cup's hand, mug quickly budding in and putting his hand next to Cup's, as Dice shook both of their hands with his large gloved hand. "Ye got yer'self a Deal, kiddos." Dice nodded and paused for a moment, then he pursed his lips, grabbing cup's arm, picking him up, and throwing him over his shoulder, Cup yelped, as he landed in the devil's padded throne, with stars flying around cup's head, he shook his head and pointed at dice "GET IM' BRO!" Cup grinned, He knew that dice was playing around, But boy was he in for it now- "Ohohoho~!" Mug giggled, wiggling his fingers, staring up at dice "I'm gonna get you!~" "Whelp- It was worth a shot." Dice booked it down the casino, cackling. Mug and cup both chasing him around the casino. Looks like this turned into a game for the three of them, and shortly after he started running, Dice was caught by the boys once more, the gambler's Laughter booming through the casino once again.

#cuphead #tickling #ticklefics #kingdicetickle #cupheadtickle #kingdice

[teacherintransition]

Plans for Life Change: Books to read, check; Paint, check; Travel ... uh travel?

Philosophers, intellectuals, humorists, writers the world over advocate the mind opening, enriching benefits of seeing the world ... ah, but 2020!

In 2013, my wife changed my life ... again, she has the habit of doing that. During that year, I was enduring year seven of a debilitating leg injury, I wasn’t painting, I wasn’t playing golf, not really reading, the guitar was gathering dust and I was putting on the weight. Any dreams or lofty goals were far on the back burner. One afternoon Kim came home from work and declared, “oh my god, we are going to Ireland!” The panic of the couch potato took hold and my response was limited to single word utterances, “ what ... how... when ... no... afford... us?” Ireland had been a dream of ours for years. Every time John Wayne’s “The Quiet Man” was on, we would stop what we were doing and get lost in the lush green and rolling hills of Eire’. We would laugh as we spoke to each other in really bad Irish accents and it was an evening well spent.

Now, here my wife barrels through the door and says with absolute authority that we are going to Ireland...what madness is this!? Without going into tremendous detail, my wife had treated the wife of an old college professor of mine who was mildly handicapped. Despite this, she and her husband managed to go yearly to Ireland regardless the obstacles. Kim replied, “one day ...,” and my professor said, “no, stop!” He shared with her a nugget of wisdom that has stayed with us to this day; he said, “Kim, if you wait until you have enough money or everything falls into place, ‘one day’ will never come... go.” Eight months later; my knee had been replaced, I was pain free and we were climbing the hills and exploring the castles of Ireland. We met fellow folks with wanderlust who became magnificent friends who we would continue to travel with throughout Europe every summer since our meeting. It wasn’t travel on the high end, nor was it travel on the extreme cheap, it was a series of adventures with close friends of like minds.

Every summer it was a time to recharge, to draw inspiration, to explore, to get lost in all that was around us. My views changed, my mindset changed, my heart changed and it became an almost addictive balm that soothed the wounds of everyday life. It became our life... Ireland, Scotland, France, Spain, Wales, England, Monaco, Italy in affordable, magical doses that we shared together and with friends every summer. I would return refreshed mentally and spiritually to a depth I didn’t understand until it was taken from us this year. It was a shock to our collective systems... we hadn’t fully comprehended how healing our travels had been to us in breaking free from the daily anxieties and stresses that weigh on our lives in ways we don’t fully understand. Worries clung a little tighter; problems were a little harder to shake off; I ran out of ideas for paintings; that little, secret smile that you share with your partner was harder to come across, the anticipation that kept you going ... didn’t, it felt like you had lost some sustenance that you couldn’t get and didn’t know when you could get it again. (Yikes ...I didn’t intend to make this a drug addiction analogy). This was a loss that we felt deep in our bones and the pain exacerbated by the unknown nature of a crisis we were helpless to combat.

It is my hope that this won’t be viewed by some as some kind of off the wall wail of despair... travel of any nature is a treasure that too many of us don’t avail ourselves. The quotes of the restorative and enlightening nature of travel are in abundance.

“Live your life by a compass, not a clock.” – Stephen Covey

“Nobody can discover the world for somebody else. Only when we discover it for ourselves does it become common ground and a common bond and we cease to be alone.” – Wendell Berry

“One’s destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things.” – Henry Miller

“A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions.” – Oliver Wendell Holmes

I could go on but the point is made I think; a willingness, a need to travel is a metaphor for an open mind... a breaking free of constraints often placed upon us by the fears of others. If you never break these constraints, you never know the peace of liberating yourself from living in a limited space in a world that was made to explore and to experience. Again, I’m not just referring to exotic adventures in exotic locations, wonderful though they may be, a simple road trip can break shackles and dispel fears. It’s not so much a literal breaking free as it is a breaking free into the world of ideas. It helps our minds become unencumbered by fear that is often a falsehood. A desire to travel is just one aspect of a liberated mind... it’s walking to the other side of the block, it’s trying the spicy order, it’s changing the music to another style, it’s zigging when everyone expected you to zag. The world is bigger ... your mind is expanded, and as Mr. Holmes said in the aforementioned quote, “you can never go back....”. I don’t want to ...

Yet, in apparent contradiction, I stand fearful that something may be lost forever because of our world’s current crisis. I can’t find inspiration for my art, a listless feeling permeates my mood, an anxiety that I might not see friends again fills my heart, the lessons that should have been learned from our travels seem obscured by mist. It is a worrisome time for us all. Since I started the blog, I’ve tried very hard to avoid the dark clouds that have come with this pandemic and political climate, I don’t need to be brought down and neither do any potential readers. While sharing with my brother how dissatisfied I was with my last few paintings, he asked why. Puzzle pieces starting falling into place as I told him that I usually had dozens of ideas floating around in my head after summer, hmmmmm...why would that be? It’s been tough to get myself out to maintain my daily walking goals, hmmmmm... why would that be? I started this change of life energized by a myriad of plans and projects and was doing great... my fuel tank was low ... we hadn’t been able to travel... we’d been restricted in our movements not by choice, but by circumstance and it was frightening.

There were lessons that should have been learned that apparently hadn’t taken root. Fear and anxiety are often unavoidable, but the self discovery and benefits of a road well traveled should combat them. I had failed to apply the lessons that came from seeing the world because I let their temporary (?) absence obscure the benefits they had provided. What can I say, a rookie mistake, it’s all going to be ok. Isn’t that what I was supposed to have learned by seeing different people and places? It will all be ok ... this is the truth that all the history and culture and locales were to have taught me. I’ve seen places that were millennia old and had seen severe suffering and strife and they were still there. I’m still here... my travels were teaching me still... the new way of seeing things as quoted above was in full affect. Rome, Nacogdoches, London, Lufkin, Barcelona, Beckville... the truth was there; it had never left.

I love talking about traveling and in my thinking, this may just be the first in a series of writings on how my wife, my friends and my adventures have made me a better person... not where I want to be, but at least able to persevere this difficult time.

http://labibliotecacoffee.com/

#travel #wanderlust #discover the world #barista #coffeetime #england #ireland #scotland #visit wales #monaco #italy destinations #france #spaintravel #travel well #traveling #my art 2020 #just gotta #just getting my thoughts out #see the world #overcome #journey #openmyworld #open mind #break free #beautiful soul #retirement #i need friends #europe #it’s going to be okay

[theworstbob]

yellin’ at songs: week 31

brief reviews of the songs that debuted on the 8.9.1997, 8.11.2007, and 8.12.2017 editions of the billboard hot 100

8.9.1997

10) "Never Make a Promise," by Dru Hill

See, the thing about this R&B song in which a person makes an eternal promise that separates it from all the other dozens I've heard in the past couple of weeks is, goddamnit I was really hoping I would come up with a joke by the time I got to the conjunction, I figured, y'know, I'd get the ball rolling, get some momentum, y'know? If I started saying words in the cadence of a joke, I would get with the program and sort of involuntarily make a joke. I see now the folly in my ways. I should've been better prepared for 1997. I knew milquetoast R&B was in store. I dropped the ball on this one, and dropped it in such a way that it did not start rolling, to tie it back to a metaphor from earlier. I promise to do better. And uh, fun fact about me, I never make a promise I won't keep.

87) "Down for Yours," by Nastyboy Klick ft./Roger Troutman

Pitch the Auto-tune a little lower, put in a few of those drums what sound like a dude roiling his rs to imitate a machine gun, and this is a perfectly acceptable 2017 pop/rap song. I just wanna real quick address something: I know I said last week that every 1997 rapper, short Magoo, was better than the best 2017 rapper, but I was speaking in terms of pop/rap. Like, if you only go by what charted, which is a mistake for so... so many reasons, 1997 rap is better? But once -- I mean, the Kendrick and Jay albums were fire, but more importantly, you've got folks like Vince Staples and Brother Ali and Joey Bada$$ and Lupe Fiasco and SZA making awesome, challenging works that aren't gonna chart. These charts are at once a sample of music history and the poorest imaginable representation of music history. Anyhoo, I don't know what previously held the title of 'most innocuous song to throw Bob into an existential tailspin over the general utility of the YAS project,' but it belongs to this dumb sack of song now!

90) "Never, Never Gonna Give You Up," by Lisa Stansfield

Hey: if nothing else, clicking on this edition of YAS 7s should give you a fun and cool new way to Rickroll your friends. Add a meta layer to your Rickroll game. I know this isn't actually a comment on the song, because how could anyone be aware of memes in 1997? All these songs predate Hamsterdance. Someone should have told Lisa Stansfield there was already a song called this, though. Anyhoo, I'm not actually talking about these songs at all. They're boring! This is probably the most okay song so far, but I'm putting it out of my mind to think about a boring meme about a boring song.

92) "Drink, Swear, Steal, & Lie" by Michael Peterson

aw this guy's just a big ol' dork. i love him! ii love his dork ass song about how in love with his girl he is. this song has one joke and it's still a vastly more complex and well-written song than any pi[50,000 word treatise on bro country redacted]anyway, this dude's great. like, i'm a pop/punk main, y'know? i love dorky and earnest jams. this hits that button squarely, y'all. i'm so into this.

only publishing the 1997 top 20 because changes happen with the other two and i value consistency

20) "Step by Step," by Whitney Houston (3.15) 19) "Can We," by SWV ft./Missy Elliott (8.2) 18) "On and On," by Erykah Badu (1.25) 17) "I Want You," by Savage Garden (3.1) 16) "It Must Be Love," by Robin S. (5.24) 15) "Smokin' Me Out," by Warren G ft./Ronald Isley (6.21) 14) "Fix," by BLACKstreet ft./Ol' Dirty Bastard (8.2) 13) "Silent All These Years," by Tori Amos (3.22) 12) "What They Do," by The Roots (1.11) 11) "Step Into a World (Rapture's Delight)," by KRS-One (4.5) 10) "I'm Not Feeling You," by Yvette Michele (2.22) 9) "Bill," by Peggy Scott-Adams (3.29) 8) "Just Another Case," by CRU ft./Slick Rick (7.5) 7) "I'll Be," by Foxy Brown ft./Jay-Z (2.15) 6) "Felton St.," Leschea (6.14) 5) "Bitch," by Meredith Brooks (4.26) 4) "Mo Money, Mo Problems," by The Notorious B.I.G. ft./Puff Daddy & Mase (8.2) 3) "Return of the Mack," by Mark Morrison (3.1) 2) "Hypnotize," by The Notorious B.I.G. (4.26) 1) "Not Tonight (Ladies' Night Remix)," by Lil Kim ft./Angie Martinez, Left Eye, Da Brat & Missy Elliott (7.12)

8.11.2007

47) "Stronger," Kanye West

Graduation is such a goofy album because it has three of the best Kanye singles of all time, including what, let's be real, probably ends up as the best song from 2007, but it's also Kanye's worst and least interesting album. It's Kanye at a crossroads, stuck between being the pop/rap god and the morose Auto-tune sadlord who makes 808s and MBDTF. This song actually finds Kanye at the perfect point in the crossroads. He's still making a towering achievement for the mainstream, but he's breaking out of being chop up the soul Kanye, moving into electronic territory, developing his sound into that direction in a way that doesn't quite sound like MBDTF but sounds like the first step on that road. It'd be a bold experiment if it didn't absolutely work, and this is an amazing song by any objective measure.

65) "Cyclone," Baby Bash ft./T-Pain

Man maybe I just haven't noticed it yet or maybe I'm just coming down from the "Stronger" high, but I forgot how horrible the generic crunk beat was to listen to. It hasn't been quite so prevalent, but heck whoever gave this dude the Lil Jon MP3s. I will say that T-Pain making noises to describe what it feels like when a woman dips it low is the tiniest little miracle of a thing, but boy, is my life not better with this song in it. OK I just got to the part where T-Pain makes that noise three times in a row, this song is an achievement in Western art and culture and the world is saved.

83) "Love Me if You Can," Toby Keith

who the fuck listens to toby keith for the ballads like who is this for who thinks of this song when they think of toby keith no legit dude just make dumbass party jams i don't get why this would ever need to exist

84) "Take Me There," Rascal Flatts

Like legit why would you give "Love Me if You Can" to Toby Keith when Rascal Flatts is literally right there. Songs like "Love Me if You Can" and this treacly pile of love song are why you made Rascal Flatts in the first place. I also enjoy the twist this puts on The Country Song. I don't think anyone ever came to Rascal Flatts for Authentic Country Music, so them saying they want the girl to take them to Main Street and the backroads is actually kinda sweet. Like, they're not posturing, they're saying, "Yeah, we're clearly city softboys, but we wanna see the small town blue jean nights that made my girl." Rascal Flatts: generally inoffensive yet again! They just keep comin'!

89) "Proud of the House We Built," Brooks & Dunn

I like this song because it reminded me of The Wonder Years' "Teenage Parents," and I appreciate the opportunity to think about The Wonder Years. I dunno, country hasn't really been problematic this week! This song is almost good! It's just a nice look back on life. "Yeah, it kinda sucked, butcha know what, we made it." Maybe it could've acknowledged that the tough times sucked instead of looking back smiling and saying, "I wouldn't have it any other way?" Hard times suck, dude. I know you haven't heard that Paramore jam yet, but hard times suck and you shouldn't idealize them. Especially when, you know, you're a millionaire, and people who are actually going through hard times are listening to you and saying, "Welp, guess this is my station in life!" Hey Bob you're going on a treatise on the sociological implications of bro country, and you are actually unable to write that. Please write about JoBros.

92) "Hold On," Jonas Brothers

What a week for songs named after far more notable '80s jams! (Actually Wilson Phillips w)I LOOKED IT UP AND DECIDED I DIDN'T CARE anyway did anyone else forget that Jonas Brothers are like legit songwriters? Like, this is definitely as good as any Simple Plan song, and Simple Plan was like a decade older than these kids. Does Simple Plan make good music? That's beside the point, which is that Jonas Brothers was never garbage. They were always making highly enjoyable pop/rock songs for the whole family, and they were capable of making these songs from an extraordinarily young age. We could've done worse, is what I'm trying to get at. Like, we had it pretty got dang good with the JoBros, friends! There's a world where JoBros fades into semi-obscurity and makes highly enjoyable Christian rock with Hanson, and also no one ever makes "Jealous," and that's a pretty OK alternate reality, that one.

100) "Hood Nigga," Gorilla Zoe

The most optimistic sentence on Wikipedia is, "This is Gorilla Zoe's only top 40 hit on that chart, to date." This song ain't bad! It would've been a fine #1 in some of those weeks where the best song was like "Do it Just Like a Rock Star." He has this really fun and gruff voice, maybe a little laconic but certainly pleasant to put in the ears, the beat is, as the kids might have said in 2007, knockin', and we have certainly heard worse things! Also the radio edit replaces N with F and of all the letters to replace the N, F is easily the funniest, because now this song is about a dude who can't get enough figs in his life. Fuck Cristal, this dude's got a Fig Newton cabinet.

New #1 hype! 20) "Lip Gloss," by Lil Mama (6.9.2007) 19) "Stolen," by Dashboard Confessional (4.21.2007) 18) "Beautiful Liar," by Beyonce & Shakira (3.31.2007) 17) "Cupid's Chokehold," by Gym Class Heroes ft./Patrick Stump (1.13.2007) 16) "The River," by Good Charlotte ft./M. Shadows & Synyster Gates (2.10.2007) 15) "Say OK," by Vanessa Hudgens (2.17.2007) 14) "Alyssa Lies," by Jason Michael Carroll (1.13.2007) 13) "Never Again," by Kelly Clarkson (5.12.2007) 12) "Can't Tell Me Nothing," by Kanye West (6.16.2007) 11) "Get Buck," by Young Buck (4.14.2007) 10) "And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going," by Jennifer Hudson (1.13.2007) 9) "Thnks fr th Mmrs," by Fall Out Boy (4.28.2007) 8) "Candyman," by Christina Aguilera (1.13.2007) 7) "Misery Business," by Paramore (7.21.2007) 6) "Because of You," by Ne-Yo (3.17.2007) 5) "Umbrella," by Rihanna ft./Jay-Z (4.28.2007) 4) "Beautiful Flower," by India.Arie (6.16.2007) 3) "Dashboard," by Modest Mouse (2.17.2007) 2) "The Story," by Brandi Carlile (4.28.2007) 1) "Stronger," by Kanye West (8.11.2007) Hey guess what the alt-country song doesn’t end up being Record of the Year 2017. Also I made a minor adjustment to #20 because Lil Mama is going to stay around as long as I feel I cannot bop her in good conscience.

8.12.2017

40) "Back to You," by Louis Tomlinson ft./Bebe Rexha & Digital Farm Animals

Huh, well, I think I mind this the least of all the One Direction side projects! I'm down for a duet, even if this is just a little too low-key to ever attain Iconic Duet status -- drunk folks and karaoke wanna shout about love, and while I'm sure they'll appreciate the "you fuck me... up" phrasing, you're not giving them a lot to work wth. I've never minded Bebe Rexha as little as I do here, and just like in his boyhood, Louis Tomlinson doesn't do anything to ruin everything. This was passable. I wouldn't mind hearing this again, I wouldn't mind if a thousand lives were lived before I heard it again.

61) "What's My Name," by China Anne McClain 81) "It's Goin' Down," Descendants 2 Cast

Listen. Am I upset that this young woman's villain song does not in any way hearken back to "Poor Unfortunate Souls" in any way? Of course. Am I 15 years aged out of the target market for this song? I mean fucking obviously, I knew we'd be treading in these waters eventually. These are fine generic pop songs, the only true flaw in any being the fact someone looked at purple-haired girl and said, "She should be in a rap battle. I think she could convincingly hold her own in a rap battle," like I'm sorry sweetie you have an abundance of other talents and zero bars. It's charming. It's charming! Listen. Am I ready for China Anne McClain to rule the world for five yet-to-be-determined years in the future? Yes. Do I love Captain Hook's gay son? I LOVE CAPTAIN HOOK'S GAY SON

77) "Issues," by Meek Mill 79) "Wins & Losses," by Meek Mill 83) "1942 Flows," by Meek Mill 96) "We Ball," by Meek Mill ft./Young Thug 97) "Fuck That Check Up," by Meek Mill ft./Lil Uzi Vert 99) "Heavy Heart," by Meek Mill

So if I'm rating the theme weeks of 2017: 1) Kendrick Week 2) Jay-Z Week 3) Future Week 4) Meek Mill Week 5) Migos Week 6) Ed Sheeran Week 7) Big Sean Week 8) Drake Week 9) Bryson Tiller Week I was honestly surprised by how much I enjoyed these songs. Like, I'm actually adding the Meek Mill album to the library for future listening. "1942 Flows" and "Wins & Losses" are legit, they're engaging songs and Meek Mill brings passion to them, and maybe I'm just unfamiliar with the rest of Meek Mill's catalogue, but I honestly didn't expect to be involved in these songs. This seems like a fine album with which to kill a summer bus ride or two. Like, I can't remember the last time I heard a song with a Young Thug feature where I wasn't paying more attention to what Young Thug was doing. Meek Mill did fine work. (Worth noting: Wins & Losses is 15 minutes longer than DAMN., and I am curious what makes Meek Mill think he has 15 minutes' more of worthwhile thought than Kendrick.)

91) "Imitadora," by Romeo Santos

It was "Heroe Favorito," right, where I said I might enjoy Romeo Santos' whole thing on another day, when I was ready to accept him into my life? WELL HOT DIGGITY, Y'ALL, 'CUZ TODAY'S THAT DAY. I love his breathy falsetto thing over this song way more, it just fits. I'm also in love with this track, this gentle Latin guitar with occasional blasts of indie platformer main menu music. I don't know a better term to express what I mean because I'm bad at music, but these synth blasts play in the intro and outro and occasionally come back and they just take this track to another level. This is just phenomenal work from someone I now understand to be a veteran in the scene from the past seven months of limited engagement with the world of Latin pop.

I changed the top of the 2017 Top 20 again. 20) "Bodak Yellow," by Cardi B (7.22) 19) "Woman," by Kesha ft./The Dap-Kings Horns (8.5) 18) "Smile," by Jay-Z ft./Gloria Carter (7.29) 17) "Love Galore," by SZA ft./Travis Scott (7.1) 16) "Bad Liar," by Selena Gomez (6.3) 15) "DNA." by Kendrick Lamar (5.6) 14) "It Ain't Me," by Kygo x Selena Gomez (3.4) 13) "Craving You," by Thomas Rhett ft./Maren Morris (4.22) 12) "That's What I Like," by Bruno Mars (3.4) 11) "Chanel," by Frank Ocean ft./A$AP Rocky (4.1) 10) "Strangers," by Halsey ft./Lauren Jauregui (6.17) 9) "Either Way," by Chris Stapleton (5.27) 8) "Run Up," by Major Lazer ft./PARTYNEXTDOOR & Nicki Minaj (2.18) 7) "Imitadora," by Romeo Santos (8.12) 6) "Green Light," by Lorde (3.18) 5) "Hard Times," by Paramore (5.13) 4) "ELEMENT." by Kendrick Lamar (5.6) 3) "Despacito," by Luis Fonsi ft./Daddy Yankee (2.4) 2) "iSpy," by KYLE ft./Lil Yachty (1.14) 1) "Issues," by Julia Michaels (2.11) Like #1 should be a mix of Most Impactful Song and Song I Enjoyed Most, and maybe #1 justifiably belongs to “Despacito” given how great that is, I’m still getting a lot of mileage out of “Issues,” and honestly as long as I’m not keeping up this silly idea that a song that was #90 for one week is the most iconic song of the year this useless list has at least some utility. Shoutout to the true heroes Paramore, though. And also Major Lazer, PARTYNEXTDOOR, and Nicki Minaj. I will never fucking forget you guys.

Who won the week?

2017 actually put up a rather strong fight, but there was no way Meek Mill and the Descendants 2 soundtrack were going to take down “Stronger,” even when it was being weighed down with Toby Keith. 2007 had a couple strong punches, and it was more than able to notch another point. 2017: 11 1997: 11 2007: 9 In next week’s post, we get to listen to Spice Girls AND Billy Joel, 2007 gives us Luke Bryan AND Robin Thicke, and I don’t know what fresh hell 2017 has in store but evidently Tay Tay collaborated with B.O.B. at some point in the recent past and it’s gonna be real fun to deal with B.O.B. the popular musician should it come to that. What an unproblematic and unremarkable artist who has precisely zero bad opinions which he expresses loudly!

[flower-phan]

All I’ve Got Are Bad Habits (Part Two)

Havent Read Part One?: http://flower-phan.tumblr.com/post/152831916762/all-ive-got-are-bad-habits-part-one “This room is dark as shit” Dan says loudly observing the dark room he was being led into by the older boy, their giggling playfully lighting up the room as they walked. “Shhhhhh” joked Phil pressing his fingers to his lips “This is where the junkies sleep”. Prompt: Phil unexpectedly makes his way into Dan's life again, after three whole years. In that time Dan has managed to get his act together for the most part and forget all about Phil, until he unexpectedly showed up at one of Dan's NA meetings, and wants back into his life again. And Most surprisingly of all, Dan says yes. ____________________________________________________________________ On the paper Phil examined what appeared to be Dans scribbled address, his stomach felt warm and his face couldn't shake that smile. Dan walked away in haste, feeling like he could hardly breathe. He was astonished on what he just did, All these years, Dan promised himself he’d never talk to Phil ever again,, he spent years hating Phil, wishing he never would have been born. And now, In a split second, he had welcomed him back in his life in the same moment Dan was trying to get him to leave it. He didn't know what to do, In a state of extreme panic, it took all Dan had to drive home safely. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other ones fingers between his teeth and lips, ripping off what little nail had grown back since the last time Dan had a nervous fit, He thought about what dinner he could make for Phil out of the little he had. Dan looked at the time. 6;30, he read in panic. He showered, he dressed, and cleaned. All memories of the bad Phil slipped his mind and he went to a happier place. (Flashback 2009) “I missed you bear” says Phil, smelling Dan and engulfing him in his arms in such a way that let Dan feel so fucking safe. “I missed you too Phil” Dan stays in Phil's arms, a little longer than usual, And Phil really doesn't mind one bit. Dan find immediate comfort in Phil's shallow erratic breaths, paying attention to the way he breaths. “coffee?” says Phil, kissing Dan on the forehead and reaching to hold his small cold hands. Dan nods following his boyfriend through the snowy London streets. As they walked, Dan watched Phil breath out into the atmosphere, wisps of white smoke spreading into the air and disappearing with every breath he took. The way Dans woolen gloves acted like a blanket to his long slender hands, and Phil's palms in his acted like a heater, warmed Dan's heart in such a way that he could feel the metaphorical frost on his heart slowly melting. And he couldn't help smiling at his boyfriend as they reached the warm yellow glow of the small café. “Grab a smoke before we go inside?” Questions Phil. Dan hesitates for a moment, rubbing his hands together and noticing his home growing coldness “sounds good” he says deciding it was worth the frostbite. Making their way to the side of the building and finding some cozy looking crates to sit on, Phil retrieved a nicely rolled joint from his coat pocket. Then, took his lighter to the end of it. He examined the joint and the way the smoke danced off of the tip, before taking a drag, and closing his eyes, resting his head against the brick wall of the building. “I love you Dan Howell” he says simply, kissing his boyfriend on the cheek. Taking the joint from Phil, and inhaling a few drags himself “I love you too”. “I swear” continues Phil, “I think you are the best thing to ever happen to me. I mean it”. Dan blushes, as much as he's grown, as much as he doesn't want to admit it, he will always be a complete sucker for Phil “where is this coming from all of a sudden Philly?” “I'm just happy” he says taking another drag, “completely and utterly content”. They finished up their smoke, and went into the warm shop, ordering two coffees and sitting in the corner away from the crowd. And they giggle about the world, with their heads in the clouds. “I liked muse before you were born son” says Phil in an extremely northern way, laughing a little bit in between. “Phil, you are literally only four years older then me” scoffs Dan playfully. “Whatever you say freshman” giggles Phil. “Oh shut up” says Dan finishing up the last sip of his coffee. Phil does the same thing, and stands up with the same exciting mysteriousness that he seems to convey every single time “Well if we don't leave now we're going to be late”. “Where are we going?” quizzed Dan. “To a party” says Phil, almost wiggling his eyebrows and then forming his arm in a triangular formation for Dan too cling on too “and I hope, of course you will be my date tonight?” Dan felt alive “of course, of course!”. It didn't take long for the boys to get to the flat in which the party was being held. In fact, they kept their car parked over near the coffee shop and walked over to the house since it was only a few blocks away. The outside was cold, but the earlier buzz managed to numb the frostbite a little bit. They hurried while a soft wind blew on their faces making their noses red. They laughed though the pain, walking under yellow glowing christmas lights that made everything so much more jolly. But the apartment showed much more spectacular atmosphere. All the holly-jolly Christmas vibes left as soon as they closed the door behind them. Only to reveal the dark lighted scene that awaited them, Dan was mesmerized. This wasn't like any of the parties that Phil had brought him too before. It was luxury. Dan gazed upon the room, where women looked like supermodels and the guys looked like actors. Champaign and ladies holding lit cigarettes. He couldn't believe his eyes “I feel a little bit underdressed” expresses Dan. “And yet you're the prettiest one here” he says in that swave calming way that makes Dan soothe “don't be nervous these are my friends, I have a bit of business to take care of”. He could only imagine what kind of mischief Phil was into now, but blindly followed his guidance anyway. It scared Dan sometimes how Phil would be so reckless, and yet it was the very thing that made him feel alive. And yet Dan couldn't help but feel like Phil is the only reason he wasn't a dweeb anymore. In fact, he probably felt that way because that was exactly the case. He knew it, and though it hurt him a little inside to know that Phil larger than him in so many ways, and he just couldn't manage to burn as bright. The boys walk through hallways of the house before approaching a closed door. Phil hesitates before opening the door, and takes a deep breath in before finally knocking on the wood. A man opens the door, and isn't as intimidating as Dan thought Phil was hyping him up too be, but Phil could make a mountain out if a mole hill any day “Hey Phil! Nice too see you again!” he says giving Phil a high five. “Nice too see you too PJ” says Phil obviously trying not to make small talk “I have what was discussed”. Dans eyes dart around the room, is Phil really making a fucking drug deal right now? “Ah yes, well, let's get to it then” he says, pulling out the most astonishing bag of white Dan had ever saw. Dan could easily jump to the conclusion that the big bag of white was Cocaine again, of course, Dan would be hypocritical to tell Phil it was a bad idea to be seen with that much substance. Dan however, was even more taken aback by the wad of cash that was pulled from Phil's back pocket and given to the other boy. “3,000, It's all there” Says Phil. “Seems like it” Says PJ, smiling and counting the money in his hands. “Well then its pleasure doing buisness with you, Lester” He smiles. Phil bends down on his knee and puts the giant block of drugs in his bag, Dan felt the adrenaline in his veins, and the slight anger at Phil for putting him in that awkward situation, and the sudden realisation that he was about to get fucked tonight. Even with that happy thought on his mind, he still made a solid effort to scold Phil for his reckless actions. “Phil, what the literal fuck” Says Dan as soon as they exit the room with very important it “You are literally carrying around 3,000 pounds worth of Cocaine”. Phil smiled his carefree cheeky smile, that in this moment, with blaring music, pimps, and junkies around, just made Dans blood a little hotter “Um, Dan, Number one this is crystal meth, and number two chill, We are going to bring it right back to the car” He got a little angrier at his boyfriend as they exited the apartment, his high has begin to fizz out, and it was just too fucking cold to be outside “Meth? What are you fucking Walter White? Phil, Fucking really”. “Yes” He says turning to look at Dan, “Now we will talk when we get in the car, can you please just shut up for a second until we get there? I love you please” He says kissing Dan's forehead. Dan didn't know, why all of a sudden Phil was getting this attitude on him. Phil protectively placed his hand around Dans waist, and walked with him to the Car, opening and closing the door behind him. Dan folded his arms and slumped down in the seat pouting his lips ever so slightly. “You're such a big baby” Says Phil starting up the car, and blaring the heat “Is that warmer? You look cold”. “Don’t baby me, you big drug dealer bitch” Says Dan. “How do you know I’m dealing?” Asked Phil. “Well, are you dealing?” questioned Dan. “Technically” answered Phil Dan flew his head back against the passenger seat, with a long sigh he ran his hands through his hair “Is there anything I can do about it, get you too stop being stupid?”. Phil didn't seem to take any offence too Dan, handing him a cigarette and lighting the stick for him too “Well, I just bought 3,000 pounds worth of Crystal Meth, and if you're not going to do 3,000 pounds of Meth with me, I suppose not”. Dan thought about Meth, and how a drug like that compared to the ones he's already tried. And when Dan put too and two together in his head he realized that they don't compare. On the great big scale of things, Meth was a lot fucking worse than cocaine or weed was. He heard about being ruining their lives, Kids from school he used to go to school with have ruined their lives from trying it just a few times. It scared Dan knowing Phil was a carefree guy, selling hard drugs on the street. “Have you ever tried Meth, Phil?” Dan asks, he was scared to know the answer. Phil doesn't answer right away, not knowing really what to say “Two or three times”. Dan sighs “Is that what you are doing this shit for? We can pay for your drugs Phil, you don’t need to be a shithe-”. “No” Phil cuts of Dan abruptly “I've been doing this forever, even before I started doing the, Ive always sold”. “How long?” Asks Dan. “Since I was Fifteen” He says. Dan wasn't per say judging Phil, Dan knew, as much as he knew about Phil, he’d never know everything. Phils happiness covers up whatever bullshit that he's been through, his eagerness and don't-worry-about-it attitude, it goes away in moment when he opens himself up like this. Dan knows he shouldn't pry, but Phils like a story book he's so eager to read “Why?”. “To provide” He says. “For your family?” Dan Pokes. “My brother and myself” He says, not seeming too bothered by the subject “My mum and Dad, it's not that they didn't care about my brother and I. They loved us so much and tried really hard, but their addiction got the best of them”. Phil looked really sad in that moment, Dsn swers he seen a tear escaped his eye but he couldn't be so sure because whatever was on phil's cheek he wiped it away in an instant “But this is a good night, let's not ruin that. Shall we?” He says placing a fake smile on his face and turning the ignition key. But Dan couldn't let his boyfriend feel that way inside, and somehow Dan just knew. He reached for the key and turned it off. Phil looked at Dan, more tears starting to form at the corner of his eyes, his face booing broken, something other than happiness showing on his face for the first time since he met the boy. Dan opened his arms “Come here” He says, and Phil collides into him releasing a yelp of despair. “It's been a year, you think I’d be over it by now. But every holiday that passes, every moment, I hurt. Because I always knew they had this issue, that they loved to use. But they didn't go anywhere you know? They were just sick, and now they are gone and I am alone” Phil sputters, crying into Dan's shoulder. Phil picks up his head, eyes red from the tears, and Dan sees the heartbreak “Where are you staying?”. “In a motel” He says, his nose stuffed, wiping his face with his sleeve. Dan felt angry, that an angel, A boy who has clearly shown that even though being sad, that their was hope for happiness. The boy that had taught Dan what love is, and taught him to stop being a bummed out faggot, was hurting this much, because he wasn't loved, and felt alone “No, No, No, that won't do” Dan says getting out of the car. “Where are you going?!” Phil says almost frantically . “Give me the keys, I’m driving” Dan says opening up Phil's car door. “Where are we going?” Says Phil switching doors. “To my house” Says Dan kissing his boyfriend on the cheek, “We're Not spending Christmas in a motel, and you're not spending it alone, so you're coming to my house” “But you're parents, won't they know….” Trails off Phil. “I don’t care” Say says stubbornly shutting his boyfriend up “I love you, and fuck they are going to love you too”. The sediment of the situation made Phil smile thankfully into his shoulder, he didn't want to be a bother to Dan, but he knew dan wasn't going to take no for an answer anyway. Christmas made Phil feel like a child all over again, but then again, so did Dan. The boys continued in the car, and Phil lit up a joint like nothing even happened. Dan turned on his Dad’s,shitty car’s heat up high so that they boys could keep the cold out,Dan found an old christmas music station, and they smiled and sang at the top of their lungs like Phil did not have a shit load of meth in the back seat. The drive was long, an hour and a half to be accurate, But every moment the boys spent with each other was not a moment wasted, Because neither one of them could get enough of each other. They reached Dan’s front door at the wee hours of the night, which was probably a good thing because the boys definitely had the stench of a thousand skunks “Don’t worry, they are very much asleep by now” Dan expresses to Phil, being sure to hold a single finger to his lips making sure to keep quiet. Dan takes his boyfriend by the hand, leading him to his old teenage room. If lonely little sixteen year old Dan knew what he was doing now, Dan thought, He would literally shit his pants. “Ill tell them about you in the morning, My mother sure won't mind me actually having someone to socialize with” Dan laughs. Phil stands looking around the room, observing and taking everything in. Phil hadn't said many words on the ride home, but he didn't need too, on the rare occasion that Phil didn't have anything to say, Dan managed to pick up the slack. “Thank you again” Phil says “Hey” Dan says walking closer to his boyfriend, standing in front of him so timidly “Don't worry about it, I love you, and I was just thinking all week…”. Dan stops for a moment, running his fingers over the bookshelf behind him and turning to his boyfriend “that I am so grateful to have you. That you have spiced up my life for the better, and that I'd be having the best Christmas ever if I was spending it with you, so shut uppp”, Dan says playfully punching his boyfriend in the arm “Ow” Phil said in response to how his arm felt, rubbing it with his hand, and playfully engulfing his boyfriend in a hug. “I love you” Phil whispers. “I love you too” Laughs Dan, “now what kind of drugs do you have for us tonight?”. Phil wiggles his eyebrows, and dances his way over to his backpack, pulling out three bags “weed, cocaine, and Meth. Pick your poison baby”. Dan hugs his boyfriend from behind, slowly nibbling on his neck and ear “you're my poison baby”. “don’t worry” Phil says turning his head to snatch a kiss “I'll give it to you when you're ready, baby, you know I could never leave you needy”. And believe me, if Dan wasn't needy before, He definitely was then. He couldn't stop his eyes from lingering all over Phil, and Phil definitely noticed, trying extra hard to put on a show. He packed the bowl, lit it, and handed it to Dan. Dan didn't freak, his parents were sleeping, and he wasn't even sure if they knew what weed was. They smoked for a while, packing bowls until neither one of them felt like they could get any higher. Then they snorted two lines each, of the purest cocaine Phil has ever found in his life. Although, Dan did not know the difference.And all while this was happening, They just couldn't stop talking, making out, or touching each other. Hands grazed skin, and Dan couldn't figure out what was better, touching Phil, or being touched by him. Eventually they had nothing on, but a blanket covering both of them. “I don't know how this could get any better” Says Dan. “I do” responds Phil getting up from Dan's bed. Dan didn't mind watching Phil walk away in that moment, him standing there in all of his glory. Dan was so fucked up, and Phil was so beautiful, he didn't even mind when Phil crushed up some Meth and put it into two neat lines on the table. “Two for you, or one for each of us?” Dan asked dazed off into the distance. “That's not my choice to make, it's yours” Responds Phil. _______________________ Present: Dan sucked in hard at the memory, why did everything that Dan held dear have to be tainted by his addiction. If he even thinks about meth, his skin starts to itch. The feeling it gave him, the person it made him, and the person he used to do meth with. “7:30” says the clock. Dan sinks lower into the couch, wondering if he will ever feel alive ever again. He mentally slaps himself, knowing that he probably won't and he's stupid for being hopeful about anything good happening to him. He think about Phil coming over and his palms start to sweat just like they used too “you're not nineteen anymore, get a grip” he says to himself throwing himself up to start preparing for his guest. He unpacked takeout from his favorite asian restaurant down the street. Even if he didn't have fun tonight, Dan was all about treating himself to a good meal. Taking black dishes down from the white cupboard, Dan freaks out about the lack of color in his apartment, knowing that Phil would like it so much better in his flat if it were adorn in color. He sighed laying out forks and spoons, and dropping one instantly to the ground when he heard a knock on the door. Dan's heart fell to his stomach, knowing that he was about to spend the night with Phil.It would be interesting to say the least. Dan, after two years of experience Dan would know that for sure. And after spending three years, cleaning up his mess, he was about to meet again with the man who turned him into one. Dan's heart raced. Phil on the other side of the door, hears mumbles and small yells coming from what must be Dan inside, grasping flowers real tight in his hand, he dryly speaks up “Dan, are you alright in there?”. Dan's eyes bulge looking at the door “fuck” he mumbles “yeah dude, I'm okay, just give me a minute”. Phil stops for a moment listening closer, learning his cheek against the cold door “are you afraid Dan?” Says Phil lightly. “Yes” answers Dan faintly and honestly. “I am too” says Phil, “want me to let myself in?” “Yeah” Dan says, watching the doorknob twist and the tall raven haired boy step inside. Dan took a deep breath “Hello Phil”. ___________________ “It's not my choice, to make, it's yours” responds Phil. Dan thinks as hard as his for brain will allow him too, and he can't find a single reason at that moment why he wouldn't want to do Meth. So Dan crawled up too Phil, not minding that he was completely exposed, and not minding that Phil's eyes trailed on him as he walked. “Are you scared?” Questions Phil, talking his boyfriend into his arms and stroking his long hair out of his face. “No” answers Dan simply “I'm not afraid at all, which is weird because I always am”. “I can't tell if it's a good or a bad thing” he continues. Phil didn't say much, he only looked at Dan. He didn't understand why people always said his eyes were so pretty. Compared to Dan's, his eyes that were often described as oceans only looked like a puddle. Dan's eyes were, he could hardly find the words to describe them. Like elegant chocolate and honey, like hot embers glowing with passion for him. It was beautiful. And he thought, what a terrible time to think about this. Because Dan was so innocent and precious, and he almost felt like he was potentially going to hurt this boy's future. And then again, that's all Phil wanted to be, Dan's future. Things have never worked for Phil. He was awkward, and although he was good at hiding it, he hardly ever knew what the fuck he was doing. He didn't understand romance, he didn't know how to make someone happy or be there for someone. And yet it was so easy with Dan. In Phil's mind, his sexuality was a giant blur. He grew up straight, dating girls and fucking them over. And he never knew why it was so easy for him to fuck them and throw them away, not caring about their feelings and letting them suffer. He thought he was a bad person and he thought he was heartless, and maybe he was, but at least now he knew why. He was gay, his mind went haywire thinking about it. After all this time, the thing he didn't know he wanted was a boy. So when he seen Dan for the first time, and he finally got those butterflies in his stomach that he had always heard about, he went for it. And now he had his first boyfriend, and he was comfortable about it. “Nor a bad thing, but maybe not a good thing either” says Phil leaving kisses on the boys neck. “Well, I'd try anything once” Dan laughs into Phil's chest making Phil heart warm. “Well, it's just like cocaine, all you do is snort it" explains Phil. Dan nods letting Phil knows he had understood his directions, proceeding, they both bend over at the same time too inhale the substance. And Dan Can't Believe it. It was like the greatest euphoria he had ever felt. It's like how his first kiss with Phil felt, times ten It was like being a small child and thinking Santa left you tons of presents under the Christmas tree, times ten. It was like getting his driver's license times ten. It was everything he wanted to feel and more, it felt like he was experiencing all of the joy he had missed out on But every single moment as once . “oh my god” Dan said breathlessly tilting his head back against the pillow, “oh my god” he repeated again. “Isn't it great” said Phil “that's why I don't do it too often. It's too good”. Dan wondered how anyone could ever want to spend their time doing anything else, “I agree” Dan nodded. Dan looked at the clock, it was three am. Christmas eve was tomorrow and he didn't know how he was going to get any type of sleep anytime soon. He looked at Phil, and he realized he didn't need too. He had Phil to keep him company, and he realized he had all the entertainment in the world. Dan looked at his boyfriend, they were already unclothed, it wouldn't be that hard. Dan only had one task on his mind, and that was Phil. He lifted his leg and swung it around to the other side of Phil so he was straddling his legs. He caught his boyfriend's attention, Phil looking up at Dan blissfully happy. Dan picks up the blanket besides it and wraps it around him and then around Phil's shoulders. “I want you” Dan huskily whispers to Phil, nibbling his ear as he speaks. Phil takes Dan's face so their eyes meet each other “I worship you” Phil says. Dan shys himself, falling into his boyfriend's chest, leaving kisses from his belly all the way up to his neck. “Oh god” Phil exclaims, “this feels so fucking good”. Dan murmurs in agreement “All I want to do is touch you”. They make out for a while, passionately biting each other's lips. It's not long before the tension builds up, and Dan can feel a hot tention burning up in his stomach and a growing erection between his legs. Phil reaches down for him “you're so bloody needy” he growls. He takes Dan's length in his hands, stroking slowly until Dan starts to stroke into him “, be patient for me honey”.` He calmed down and let himself feel it, doing his best to let Phil do all the work for him. The pleasure was intense and soon Dan was on the verge of coming “Please stop, I’m going to come. I want you inside of me” Dan begs. Phil removes his hand from Dan's length, feeling his own erection growing stronger and more needy for pleasure as well. He couldn't deny his Boyfriend or his own needs any longer. Picking up Dan and laying him on the bed, he places the younger boy on his back “Do you have any lube baby?” Phil questions. “In my nightstand” Dan says needly. Phil retrieves the Lube, and smiling at the cute cherry flavoring, he giggles as he poured the pink substance onto his fingers. Dan looked at Phil in anticipation as he began to shove one finger into his ass, he moaned as he stroked in and out. “Please, more” Dan instrucks Phil. Adding another one of his fingers inside, he smiles as beautiful moans escape Dan's lips, He only hopes Dans bedroom is far enough away from his parents to hear them. Soon Phil can't wait any longer, being turned on even more by his boyfriends moans,he coats his own length with the lube, slowly stroking himself he asks “Are you ready baby?” Dan nods in approval. Dan could hardly control his screams, and he didn't know how anything could possibly ever feel so good “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Phil” He moans under his breath. It was the most extreme pleasure he has ever felt, Phil's cock hitting his prostate dead on, and Phil's other hand stroking his. “I don't want you to come yet. Baby, Can you hold off for me?” Phil Says, his stroking pace getting slower along with his own. Dan nods, trying to take all of his focus off of the passion growing in his stomach, the dull, new pace making it harder to resist the temptation. He feels his cock throbbing, deciding this is quite possibly the best sex he has ever had. “I can't hold out much longer, Phil!” Dan exclaims. But he didn't have too, because soon he felt Phil release, and he releases in that moment as well. Dan watched his boyfriend on top of him like god in the clouds above, jaw hanging open like he had seen a ghost. He collapses onto the bed besides Dan, subconsciously wrapping him into his arms. “I'm not tired” Dan observes out loud. “You won't be for about another two days” Phil responds smiling at his boyfriend “it's okay, come here”. Dan follows orders, curling up besides the dark haired boy, and laying his head right in his chest. Dan closed his eyes, feeling Phils warmth radiate on too his back. He tried to imagine what the stars looked like past the roof, but the only image he could conjure in his head was Phil’s eyes. ______________________________________ Present: “You remember my takeout order?” Phil smiles holding up the plastic tray of food for Dan. “If I didn't after dealing with you for three years, well, that means the acid did more harm than we thought” Dan laughs. “Boy, haven't we gotten cynical ?” Phil remarks. Dan nods, he wasn't wrong, three years alone have toughen him up like his bones were steel beams “I just know how to laugh at myself” replys Dan. The room was silent for a moment, void of conversation but not of awkwardness. Dan just didn't know if he could ever accept Phil into his life again. His hair was shorter than before, it suited him, the boy he once knew looked like a man. His tall lanky frame had turned from boyish to cut and fitting for his age and stature, and even his voice and overall tone bad managed to age. He didn't see a boy anymore, he saw a man. “Three years sober” Phil says “you really did stick too it, didn't you?”. Dan nods, retrieving a cigarette from his pocket “I suppose I still have a few vices. How about you?”. “a year and a half now” he says reaching for his pack now as well, “i guess it took me a little while longer too see the light” Dan throws him a smile “Hey it's Okay, Philly, I still smoke weed, I didn't stop cold Turkey”. Phil smiles at Dan, and thinks about how truly happy he is that Dan manages to pick himself up. And although he has missed Dan, he knew if he was in the picture that just wouldn't have happened. He seen a man in front of him, not a boy. Phil grazes his eyes unsubtly over Dan, “you have really matured, Dan, your almost like a whole new person”. Dan rolls his eyes, “that's because I grew up and got my shit together”, he looks at Phil in the same manner “how about you, not so much of a scene kid these days huh”. “I've toned it down” he smiles gleefully with a hint of regret. Dan looked at the boy astonished, he truly didn't know what to do. It's like nothing had changed between them, like nothing had happened. Like all of the heartbreak Dan went through was nothing. “why are you here?”, Dan asks Phil suddenly. Phil thinks for a moment, not taking his eyes off of Dan. However, given the circumstances, how could he? “Another chance approached me, and I knew I'd be a fool not to take it” Phil expressed. “A chance for what?” Dan asked harshly. “To say sorry” Phil says hopefully. Dan took a good look at Phil, and all at the same time couldn't stand to take another glance. He could feel his eyes water, but he didn't want Phil to know that he was crying so he didn't wipe them, he just clenched his fists tighter in hope that it would stop. “I don't. I don't hate you Phil”, Dan explains, “I don't care that you're half the reason my life is ruined, because I can't blame you for that. I choose to follow you-” ____________________________________ It took three days for the boys to fall asleep. After the Christmas fun, the joy in the holidays, the smile that appeared of Phil face, right beneath the bags under his eyes. It was only on the plane ride back home that they finally drifted asleep, no matter how uncomfortable the plane seats were. After three days of Dan's first time on meth, he finally came down, and all he wanted was to go back up. They spent new years in their dorm room, doing exactly what dan wanted. “yo, break out that crystal mate” Dan would say jokingly, with just the right amount of seriousness in his tone. “oh yeah bro, i'll crush that shit right now” Phil would respond extra northerner like. And days would go by, Dan would go to school after taking one last line of the table. Phil would sell glass to his clients. And each day, they would fall even more in love. And it was so perfect. Until it wasn't perfect anymore. It was one saturday morning everything changed, nine am to be exact there was a pounding on their dorm room door. “What the fuck” Phil whispered sleepily unwrapping his arm from His boyfriend to see who was at the door. Dan sat up, and shivered as Phil had gotten up. Phil opened the door to see a familiar shining face. It was the first Lady who had brought Phil to him for the first time before. Her face, however, had a certain unhappy tone in contrast from before. Her arms were folded and her lips curled in disgust, she hands Phil a piece of paper. “You guys need to be out, Two days time. And neither one of you will be attending classes at this university anymore” She said simply. Dan's heart dropped and his eyes widened as he sat up in the bed upon hearing the lady's words” Wh- What do you mean we’re kicked out?” Asks Phil staring at the slip of paper. “We have a zero tolerance drug policy at this university. You two are as dumb as dirt if you don't think everybody in this hall doesn't know what you two are doing at night” he points her finger selectively on both of the boys “And you just better be glad we are kicking you out and not getting the police involved. Two days, you have two days to get out of here”. It was like slow autumn. Turning from Summer time into Fall, watching leaves turn from green, to yellow, to dead; ending up crunched up and broken on the pavement, wet and mucky at the bottom of a lake, or in a trash bag somewhere. That's how things crumbled for them, building beautifully, and dying all at once just when you thought it was the most gorgeous it could have been. She left quickly after that, leaving Dan and Phil taken aback staring at each other. Neither one of them could speak, everything was all caught in their throat and they had nobody to blame but themselves. Phil sat next to Dan while they both tried to take it all in. Phil was the first to talk “Okay, Well. I have a plan.” Dan jumped “What is it?”. “Suicide pact” Phil Laughed flopping back onto the bed. “This isn't a joke Phil!” Dan says annoyed, getting up and starting to pace “We just got kicked out of school! Our futures are ruined!”. Dan couldn't believe it, He wasn't doing the best in school, but he was tying. And now he couldn't try anymore, because he was just kicked out of school. He felt like a failure, like everything everyone has always said about him was true. A lazy, loner, procrastinator, that would never achieve to anything. They were right. He couldn't breath, no air would pass through his lungs, and he felt like he was going to fall to the floor at any moment. But all he did was pace. “I know it's a bad deal, We fucked up. But you can go back to school in england, live with your parents again. Everything goes back to normal” Phil says getting up too pat dan on the back. And However Dan knew that was rational, and well. Of course it was rational, That was the adult thing to do, suck up his pridem admit he made a mistake, and do everything in your power to fix it, right? All of Dan Howells problems might be fixed, fuck, he might even get sober, however, the easy way out was not Dans way of doing things. Leaving america, meant leaving Phil. Leaving America and going pack to his parents house meant that he would have to tell them he got kicked out of his university because he was doing hardcore drugs. And lastly, leaving America meant that Dan howell wouldn't have any access to any sort of drugs, because he was a loser, and no way was he going to be a drugless, boyfriendless loser who lives with his parents. So he scrapped that idea to the back of his brain. “Get that out of your head, Phil. I'm not telling my parents I got kicked out of school And I am especially not leaving you either” Dan says rather harshly to his boyfriend. Phl sighs “It was worth a shot” He says “well, then we're going to have too rough it for a while. And luckily I know exactly how to do that. You just have too trust me”. Dan was so scared that he didn't speak during the next few hours it took too clean up their room. They continued to do drugs in the last moments that they spent because, well what more damage could they really do? Dan sat and wondered what he was going to do with the rest of his life, now that he, you know, ruined his education. He felt what could be an existential crisis and the need to lay down on the floor and fade into oblivion hung over his shoulders like dead weight. Nonetheless, He snorted and smoked anything that he could get his hands on that night to ease the pain. By nine O’clock at night, everything was packed. They looked at each other in silence for a moment before Phil englifed Dan in a hug. ‘What are we going to do?” Dan started to weep into his boyfriend's shoulders “I just completely ruined my life Phil”. Phil shakes his head and pats Dan’s back to assure him “Hey, Hey, Hey” Dan says soothing him “It's just another little bump in the road. You can always apply for other colleges, or go to a community college. We can turn this into something great, we can get a flat together”. Dan smiled at Phil, a flat? A flat, with Phil? He always knew how to make Dan feel better “You mean that?” Dan said. “I love you Dan, There is nothing I would love more” He says Now let's go, we need to find a place to stay tonight” Of course they did have two more days to get out of there, But as Phil had mentioned while they were packing, there was simply no point in staying in a place where they weren't wanted. So they grabbed their boxes and took trips up and down too Phil's car, filling the back seats with their combined prised possessions until the back seat was filled; Leaving what they felt was unnecessary behind, The boys started out on their journey sitting in the car and smoking a joint one last time. Phil laughs smoking, and flicking the ashes out of the window “Well, I suppose we can’t sleep in the car then?”. Dan nods, he feels like crying, but Phil's high spirits manage to lift him up some sort of way “Then it's either, under a bridge or a motel somewhere”. “Option B sounds a little more preferable to me, What do we have for combined money?” Phil asks “In my bank account, probably about five thousand”. Dan was surprised to hear that number, knowing that Phil has never really ever had ay type of job. He let the thought escape his mind, He didn't want to know the answer to that one. But for that same reason, he also felt safe. Phil knew how to survive the streets, and he knew that Phil wasn't going to let anything bad happen to him no matter what. He felt reassured “About three thousand, My parents send me money monthly for school. Which they don’t exactly know I don’t attend. And although it sounded sleezy, Dan KNEW he was going to need that money. `”Well, That should help us survive for a while. We can get jobs, We can do this” Phil said with a hint of doubt in his voice “How about we find a place to stay tonight, and then we start looking in the morning. Sound good?” Dan nodded but stayed quiet, it seemed like he didn't have the right words to say. It's not that he didn't trust Phil, because he did, with his whole heart. But he knows the impact of the events that have just taken place, and that's not something he could fix so easily. How could he be so careless with his life like that? He had tried so hard, and now here he was. He didn't feel like a loser anymore, but again, he felt like the biggest loser out there. They drove for about thirty minutes with the car radio as a low and dull background noise, meant to fill the gap of silence that was between them. They weren't mad at eachother, and how could they be? It was a fuck up on both ends and now they were going to have to face the consequences, but there was no shame, they were going to do it together. But their was a certain tension, a fear of the unknown, and how they were going to fix this mess. Soon, the boys got to their destination, a shabby looking place, and half off the bulbs on the welcome sign blown out. It didn't feel like home, until Phil grabbed Dans hand in the parking lot, his thumb over his hand slightly, and suddenly it did. Phil was home, And that gave Dan the bravery he lacked. When they finally checked into their hotel room, Phil looked around thoughtfully and faced Dan “Well it could be worse” He chuckled. Dan looked around, and this place definitely wasn't a vacation. The green and yellow sheets did not contrast well to the faded brown wallpaper on the walls, looking at the smoke stained ceiling and lamp, Dan was glad that at least they could smoke in here. And hopefully in doing so the bugs will hide somewhere far away from Dan as he Slept. Dan throws down his stuff, hesitantly sitting down on the bed, and then flopping down heavily. “they will be surprised to see us in here for more than a few hours” Phil said, sitting down next to his boyfriend “this is where the junkies come too shoot up, get off the street for the night. I've spent a few nights here in the past”. Dan didn't want to ask, but for some reason he did “Were you shooting up?” Dan asks, with a hint of playfulness in his life. “Yes actually” Phil Says without shame “ Do you want to jump in the shower honey? You look tired”. Dan nods, deciding it's better to dismiss the problem completely. Besides, what was he going to do now? He loves Phil, but he can't help but feel like the drugs use acts like cling film around the two boys, keeping them together completely. Dan tried not to think about it too much as Phil helps him remove the shirt from his back, his touch is so soft and delicate as it leaves their touch on his skin. It feels like heaven, it feels like home. But yet, he feels wrong too. He kisses Phil with apprehension, and as he washes his back, he thinks more about the touch than the toucher himself. And then he thinks about how he isn't high, and how he wants to be. So the boys dry off and get on cozy jammies from their suitcases, they lay back in bed, and put the glass up to their lips. Dan has been doing meth for about five months now, when Dan gets up to use the bathroom he examines his ever thinning frame in the mirror. He smiles and grabs at his different body parts, realizing that the baby fat he used to hate so much. The thing that Dan realized about doing Meth constantly is that you never really have an appetite, and when you continue to do meth, it means you can't stomach more than a couple bites. Dan didn't mean to starve himself. He hardly even notices it happening until three days pass and he can feel his stomach caving in, he would then force himself to eat something light, because eating seemed to disgust him. He could wrap his pointer finger and thumb around his wrist, he wondered if Phil noticed his thinning frame, He wondered if Phil preferred it or not. Dan slips into a big jumper and some boxers, He could feel the comfortable high taking effect. He checked the time, it said 10:30, normal people would be sleeping at this time, but Dan knew he'd be awake for the better part of the night from the uphoria. Dan looked into the mirror at his dilated pupils, and remembers how beautiful Phils probably look right now. Dan exits the bathroom and sees his boyfriend sitting on the edge of the bed, the old green sheets stripped and replaced for Phil’s similar set. Dan smiled because that was such a Phil thing to do. He goes up to Phil, swinging both of his legs over Phils so he can straddle him “I J-Just. I Just got to look at your eyes right now” Dan says placing his hands on Phils neck. “Then look you shall” Phil says widening his eyes and squinting them back up again to tease the boy. Dan laughs “You fucking Spork”. _________________________________________________________________________________________ “I don't. I don't hate you Phil”, Dan explains, “I don't care that you're half the reason my life is ruined, because I can't blame you for that. I choose to follow you-” Dan trails off failing to get the right words out of his mouth, over thinking it all, and making himself cry more than he was before. He takes a breath in for composure “ I choose to follow you. I did the…. I- ...wanted to be cool.” Dan says. “But I can't think about it? Okay? Ive survived three years because I managed to detach myself from that part of my life, got it? I” Dan wipes his eyes again, replacing his sadness and anger for a lighter note “ And now look at you, Mr- Fucking- Perfect, coming in here all grown up, sober, and awkward and clumsy? Who even are you?” Phil is caught off by the emotion spewing from Dan, how someone he used to see as so mousy and defenceless, Looked so strong even when he was crying. Phil was amazed, Not only by his forward motion of “Mr- Fucking-Perfect”, but also by his willingness to get it all on the table. “You have grown so much” Phil laughs looking at Dan through found eyes. And besides the worries of both of the boys, That night wasn't as terrible and awkward as it could have been, It wasn't like the terrible noise of anging pots and pans, but more like hearing your little eight year old sister practice her recorder in school. Yeah, it might have been painful and annoying, but at least they were trying? They were trying. For the first time In three years Dan didn't feel alone, so why did he resent it so much? Why was Dan having so much fun, and yet at the same time all he wanted was for Phil too leave. But at the same time it felt like a second chance, a second chance too no fuck up something that was great even when it was bad. He wasn't sure, all Dan knows is that he wanted Phil to leave, and all at the same he wished he would crawl into his bed. After that night, Didn't mind seeing Phil. There was no dread of Friday NA with Phil, they would go out for smokes before hand and after, catching up on their separate weeks, but never really hanging out besides that. Just because Dan didn't mind Phil, doesn't mean that Dan was ready under any circumstances to be around Phil again. Dan could still feel his throat clenching and eyes watering sometimes, just thinking about the things that happened between him and Phil. Dan never really had the chance to get any help with the “Trauma”, as some might call it. He may have gone to a rehab, but that only fixed the chemical part to the equation. Dan is smart and old enough to know that he used drugs when he was young because he didn't want to deal with his problems. It was an escape, and he was aware of that. However he might have escaped his addiction, but he never dealt with the problems he was facing at the time, and the added trauma on top of that. Dan was still a wreck, but at least he was a sober wreak anyway. One Day when Dan goes out for a smoke, Phil joins his and they sit on the railing outside of the familiar church building that holds the NA program. It was their spot, just under a tree, where everything looked so optimistic from the shade. The tree was pink, and it reminded Dan of japan and pure bliss, when the two would discuss Anime, it would only enhance the experience “Do you wanna come over today?” Phil asked flicking his cigarette onto the grass, twisting the filter between his hands. Dan teased the idea of going to Phil's apartment, His curiosity said yes, but his brain said no. Dan didn't know if he wanted to see what Phil's life looked like, he didn't know if he wanted to get that close to him again. Of course Phil had gone to Dan's house, but that was his comfort, Phil was alien to him now, it had been years, he didn't even know who Phil was anymore. And Phil could feel his apprehension, he felt a small pang in his chest “I mean like, we would like, hang out? I haven't played Mario Cart with someone in ages”. Phil took a long, sad, drag of his cigarette, truthfully he hadn't had any company in months. He was too afraid. He would stay in his house and work on his work, trying to scrape by on the paintings he could sell at the market, and working part time at the florist shop under his house. He liked working there, slowly watching all the plants grow from the soil in which he raised them, and since then he acquired many of them in his appartment. Sadly, However, the green foliage doesn't speak, and Phil is often alone. He didn't trust himself to go out, But he trusted Dan, He hoped. Dan noticed Phils sadness and even though his apprehension he found himself agreeing, It's not like he wasn't going to do anything tonight anyway. ______________________________________________________________________ Past: They didn't manage to get on their feet until a couple days later, when they got out of there constant loop of half sobriety and meth infused nights. Dan would stare at the wall, and Phil would stare into the TV screen, sometimes they would look at each other. And eventually, One of them got sober enough to realize that something needed to get done. Both the boys looked online for a flat in their price range, which wasn't much, and both of them needed jobs since they needed to be adults, which also happened to be in low quality. They found a flat, in a neighborhood that Phil was familiar with, he said “It needs some TLC” But it was a place for them. And Dan wondered if this was such a bad thing to begin with anyway. He didn't really want to go to college, he only went because it was what what suspected of him. But now he was old enough to do everything he wanted, which was be with Phil. They got the flat, they had enough funds to sustain them for now, and they would worry about the jobs within the next couple months. Until then, Phil would sell, the one way he for sure sure he could get cash. The first time they went to their new home, Dan was apprehensive to say the least. The tiles in the kitchen floor were cracked and Dan would never dare in a million years to try using the bearfoot claw with paint chipping off the sides. Although, Dans disgust started to fade however when the boys started to fill the house with their stuff. Everything, in an instant, started to look better when it was littered with the clutter of their belongings. “We will definitely need to take a trip to IKEA soon” Phil expressed positively while wiping his hands against his jeans as he added the rest of his help to the house “We only have one bed currently, I'm sure that won't be a problem though”. Dan admired how Phil would always manage to make light of even the gloomiest of situations. Dan felt like their was a rain cloud over his head, pouring rain and soaking his brain. But light peeked out the clouds and at least created a pretty rainbow for the sad boy too look at while it poured. As the Boys began to get settled into the new swing of things, Phil started to teach Dan the ropes. Since Dan wasn't engrossed in his school work now, he could go on runs with Phil. And since Phil never really went to class to begin with, suppose this was just the same for Phil as before, Except Dan was with him all the time now and he lived somewhere else. And to Phil, this wasn't a horrible thing at all. In fact, He happened to like this way of living little more. And Dan didn’t feel as stressed, so he didn't bother enrolling himself in local college spring classes, Being with Phil, selling drugs, partying, and doing drugs, was all Dan was really interested in nowadays, to say the least. And since Phil liked to do the same things, He didn't mind that Dan didn't want to better his education or get a job, because at least Dan never left his frame. They money began to roll in, People liked Phils happiness and charisma, People liked Dans soft looks and voice and how he could bant with people for hours. And Dan and Phil together, was an unbreakable bond that customers just seemed to cling on too, and they would spend their days driving around so they could pay the rent that they owed. One day Phil looked up from his phone and then at Dan and said “Hey there's a party on 5th tonight, should we check it out?” Dan nodded in agreement, reaching behind himself to reach for his black leather jacket, and was happy when Phil reached for his red one, and they locked the door behind them, Phil taking his backpack with them. One of the things that Dan loved about Phil so much is there similar music tastes. And since the spent a whole bunch of time in the car together trying to pay their rent, it was a simple blessing. Nonetheless, the boys had fun singing on the way to the party. It's a whole new life, Dan smiled to himself. When they pulled up to one of the houses that Dan recognizes, this is one of their often stops, which is surprising because Phil doesn’t like the idea of going to a house more than a few times. But one of Phil's closest friends from school lives here, so they tend to linger around for his mate. “Hey Kat” Said Phil as he walked into the living room, shoting loudly over the mess of people littered around her California apartment. “In here!” She yelled back, from what sounded like her own bedroom. This was a party place, no mistake to be made about it. Dan observed the graffiti littering the walls, and how it looked against the fairy lights hanging from the ceiling and against the artwork creating a dark atmosphere and a pretty yellow light from around the apartment. He looked around at the drug infused people, on their own rides and dosages,everyone has their own experience. And although all of these people are here now, and well, we're also here most of the time. This was cat's place, and everyone was allowed st cat's place, with the exception of her room. But Dan and Phil were an exception and walked in to see cat on her bed, her frame smaller than before, in pajamas lounging her her bed. She had those things that Dan had once observed his mother put around her toes for polish, and was painting her nails a pretty shade of red, as she cooked a spoon in the candle fire next to him. It was nothing Dan wasn't desensitized to now, He knew some people had the willpower to stay away from hard drugs, the willpower to get off of them if they wanted. But cat was ruining her body and her life, she didn't care, she was living happily. Dan was desensitized by now, I mean, all he did was sell the stuff, he didn't actually do heroin. “I'm about to get fucked, boys” She said with a smirk, not looking up from finishing the last details of her paint “What can I do for you two?”. It saddened Dan, he knew Cat for a while now, and it almost hurt to have someone kind deterioration in front of him “We just came to say hi, and sell some shit” Said Phil reaching to give her a hug “I hope that goes good for you” Phil smiles at her. “We’ll, You know my abode is your stomping grounds , boys” She reached beside her for a needle and strap “Mind sticking me, Phillip?”. “Sure thing” He said going over to her. It's completely weird how normal it is, How less than a year ago Dan didn't even want to smoke weed, and now he was watching his boyfriend shoot a friend up. He ties the band around her upper arm to stop the flow to her veins, and he pushes the toxins into her arm. She breaths in quick, like happiness and euphoria at once, and slumps into the bed like she is apart of it. Dan closes his eyes, knowing she isn't dead, but she might as well be “It's a hard thing” Says Phil “Can you can’t stop them, you can't grow attached to a junkie”, He puts a pillow under her head and leans her body to the side, so if she throws up, she won't gag on her own vomit. They go around the house, everyone knows what they are doing there. They get a few familiar faces come up to them for their fix, and a few new ones who got the word. Every thirty minutes or so one of the boys go to check on Cat to make sure she's still breathing. Phil looks down at his phone “Would you be okay with staying here and finishing up while I make a quick run?”. Dan has never sold by himself before, This gave him a strong sense of confidence, just because that meant Phil trusted him with something very important. And Although the thought of being alone here scared Dan shitless, He knew Phil wouldn't have bothered asking unless it was the absolute option,and Besides, He had Cat who would be coherent enough soon. Surely the druggies wouldn't eat him whole, so he agrees “Sure thing” Dan gleams kissing his boyfriend through a toothy grin. The moment Phil walked out of Dan's sight, It's the moment he went to talk to Kat again. That's when everything changed. (To Be Continued)

#Phanfiction