#but lacing them up right and wearing thick socks and breaking them in a lil bit more should do the trick

[viiridiangreen]

not to be obnoxiously materialistic as part of the capitalist apparatus' winter psyop but………………. First Goffick Platform Boots I've Had Ever Just Dropped lol

got these as a slightly early xmas yule present

i was literally JUST bitching at a beloved mutual the other day abt being sad that i don't really dress alt anymore?? these don't have 2kgs of spikes and buckles so idk if they're even considered Proper Goth by whatever arbitrary standard but they're a nice solid base to build on :)

[mutually-screaming]

for death and he

Fandom: Homestuck

AU: Godstuck, but with more cults

Chapter(s): 1/??

Ship/Pairing: Dirk/Lil Hal

Summary: Hal needs to feed to survive at this point in his everlasting life. Being a god isn’t easy, especially not when you have virtually no followers. But he’s not god now. He’s a leech. And he needs Dirk to be his host if he wants to survive any longer as a god.

Author Note: Chapter one! I hope you all enjoy! I will be posting this on Archive of Our Own as well, and links will be provided once I do so! I hope you enjoy!

This party sucked.

It wasn't the fact that the party itself was bad, but the suckyness of the party predominately came from Dirk himself. Things that he used to enjoy, like this shitty party, felt like they were slowly getting crappier and crappier over time. Whether it was boredom or how they always seemed to go the same, he couldn't quite tell. But it sucked to Dirk. Everyone else was having a good time, and part of him was jealous of them for that, but he felt like it sucked.

But of course it sucked for Dirk. Dirk Strider, forever sitting on the couch, making boring idle conversation, waiting to get himself drunk. Dirk Strider, always embarrassing himself when he gets drunk. Dirk Strider, waking up in the morning with a shitty hangover and a will in his mind that he was never drinking again. Parties weren't awful, but he just couldn't get why he wasn't enjoying them anymore.

Maybe because of the monotony of his actions at these parties, or maybe he was becoming more of a homebody. The latter option made the most sense to him right off the bat. He was spending more time at home, but he blamed that mostly on school and how it was so vigorously kicking his ass at the moment.

The blonde took a sip of probably one of the grossest IPA's he's ever drank before setting the bottle down and deciding he was done with it. It was almost full.

Music played, people were dancing, the air was hot and humid with their sweat. It was kinda gross. Deciding he needed a break, he shoved his way out of the living room and into the back yard, greeted by a cold yet refreshing gust of night air as he stumbled upon what seemed to be a beer pong tournament? Except all frat-dudes involved seemed way too fucked up. Amber eyes scoped the scene before settling upon three mostly empty tequila bottles on the floor. Ah. Tequila pong.

Considering the last time he decided to play the one way alcohol poisoning game of Tequila pong, he decided against it. Nope. Never again.

Reasoning being, nobody wanted to watch him try to jump from the roof and into the neighbor's pool and fail again. That entire incident ended with a broken wrist and a written apology.

But see? He used to think this was fun. Now he was bored, tired, and couldn't wait to put on his pajamas and fuzzy socks when he got home.

He needed to find Roxy.

Turning around to head back inside, he struggled through the living room and made his way towards the kitchen, only to run into a very frazzled looking Jane dealing with a very stoned freshman he didn't recognize.

"Hey, where's Roxy?" Dirk asked, grabbing some paper towels and handing them to Jane as she tried desperately to clean up a green mess that the freshman seemed to have spilled. The freshman seemed cool with it. Hell, Dirk wasn't even sure if the freshman noticed that he had spilled half of whatever the fuck that green stuff was all over the front of him. He was blazed as fuck.

"Last place I saw her was in the garage getting more drinks, but that couldn't have been more than twenty minutes ago," Jane replied, gratefully taking the paper towels and using them to sop up the green mess. "By the way," the brunette huffed, straightening up and dumping the dirty trash into the bin, "This is Gamzee, he's the foreign exchange student I've been mentoring."

"How's it been, brother? Long time no see," Gamzee grins, his voice deep and laced with an accent he didn't recognize. The stoner reached over and clapped a large hand on Dirk's back, possibly getting some of that goop on his shirt.

Dirk has never met this kid in his life.

"Uh...it's been good," Dirk says slowly, taking a step away from Gamzee as he turned back to Jane, "Look, if you get the chance to talk to Roxy, let her know I'm headed home. Glad for the invite though, that was cool of her. Don't think this kind of stuff is my thing anymore though." Hm. Maybe a little too much information for now. He didn't want to offend Roxy for inviting him to these, he knew she genuinely enjoyed them and that he used to too. But might as well be honest, right?

"Oh, uhm, alright," Jane replied, seeming a little taken aback by Dirk's bluntness. "I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Dirk nodded, briefly eyeing Gamzee warily before making his way out of the party. Part of him kinda felt bad for the guy. He seemed stoned out of his mind. But hey, at least even he was having a good time.

The party had been hosted at a nearby fraternity house that was only about three blocks from the school, making it only about a twenty-ish minute walk back to his dorms, which wasn't too bad. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he quickly sent a text to Roxy, just in case Jane didn't get the chance to relay the message.

headed home. thanks for the invite.

Dirk knew Roxy worried about him sometimes. Especially these past few months since his particularly messy breakup with his ex. But that was a story for another day.

It didn't take long for him to reach his dorm, quickly changing out of his plain jeans and t-shirt and into his beloved fuzzy socks, sweatpants and hoodie. It was a cold night and he might as well get comfortable for the night.

Flopping onto the bed, he couldn't help but lie there for a second. The room was completely quiet, other than the gentle hum of the heater running and the soft thump of his heart beating. Glancing at his clock on his desk, it was only ten forty-five. It wasn't even that late. But why did he feel so fucking tired? He lied still on his bed for as long as he could manage, legs dangling over the side as he shifted and shoved his face into his pillow, only to immediately sit up in distaste as a red line formed across his face from his shades.

Right. He was wearing those.

Dirk took them off and set them on his desk next to his bed before getting settled in. Snuggled in a thick duvet, laptop in his lap, he grabbed his glasses off of his desk. Trading comfort over style, he guessed. It was a miracle he could get those wack-ass shades as prescription, but he was from Hollywood and wasn't about to read too deep into this and you shouldn't either.

Was he tired? Yes. But it was more like the slightly sleepy that led into boredom that led into him browsing the internet for a couple of hours.

An hour and a half later, Dirk found himself falling down the rabbit hole of food network youtube videos on how to make gourmet gushers when an unfamiliar notification popped up. It was from Pesterchum, what was essentially a remake of the now outdated Skype, but he didn't recognize the message that appeared.

autoResponder [AR] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

AR: Hey. Ever wondered what ascension is like?

The name autoResponder immediately made Dirk think this was a bot messaging him. But that didn't make sense. The only way someone could message him would be if he gave them his username himself, but he couldn't remember giving anyone his username recently. He honestly didn't even use Pesterchum that much lately anyways because of how busy he's been with school. This totally had to be a bot. But it hadn't sent him any weird links yet or offered to show him boobs. Or maybe it was a hacker trying to give his laptop a virus. But he could handle that. Maybe it would be fun to fuck with this guy. If he was going to try to send him a virus he would well deserve it.

Just as he started to type a response back, he got another message.

AR: Ever wondered what happens after death?

Dirk's fingers hesitated. Now this was starting to sound a little more religious-y. But it gave more of the vibe of those signs you drive by on road trips. The ones paid for by Biblethumpers who had nothing better to do but shove god in every aspect of life, including road trips apparently.

Another message.

AR: Ever wondered what happens when everything becomes void, Dirk?

Dirk closed his laptop.