LAUGH, AND THE WORLD LAUGHS WITH YOU.

i want to write

but i’m Depressed™

so i’m always kind of lurking but i haven’t found my motivation yet

@hevoiced​ // s.c.

            ❛ — i heard you were having trouble finding me a christmas present. ❜

@hevoiced saw a man in the Midwest

Truth be told, the middle of the United States of America wasn’t a great place to be in winter. Nick Andros knew this, and he knew plenty of people who would insist the middle of the US was never a good place to be. But there was something about Christmas that made Nick miss Nebraska. There was no need to go back, but. But so what if he missed his home around Christmas? Missed his mom? 

Nick didn’t always go back to Caslin in Winter, he knew it was dumb, he knew it was hell to try and get in and out of the Midwest in December. 

But sometimes, he did go back. This was one of those times. And while he was pushing his bike miserably through the snow of a state highway that would take him through Kansas and then down to Oklahoma where he’d decide if he’d head Southwest to New Mexico or Southeast to Louisiana. 

God, if it would just quit snowing, maybe he could actually get back on his bike, where he’d warm up a little, dry off a little, and maybe make it somewhere warm before February. 

       what kinda hellscape is this? it’s not like richie doesn’t understand the snow--- he grew up in rural maine, after all--- but it’s really the miles and miles of nothing useful that’s getting to him, and he’s starting to worry that he’s going to run out of gas. he’d come out here for a nice, peaceful holiday at the suggestion of his travel agent carol feeny ( he’s gonna have to have a real talk with her next time they get on the phone together ) and so far it’s been more stressful than peaceful and more annoying than nice. what he wants now is just to make it back to his cabin with his booze okay, but the snow is falling so quickly that all he can imagine is getting stuck in the snow for the night until someone with a big truck and a shovel comes along to rescue him. 

       just as things start to feel particularly grim for himself, he sees some poor sap pushing a bike through the snow and there’s that pressing reminder in the back of his skull--- shut up, rich, you don’t have it that bad. you have a travel agent who tried to find you something relaxing to do and you’re the one who went out to get booze right before a snowstorm started.