Author's Note: Here's a fun fact- I wanted to title this story "Pumpkin Patch" so I wouldn't have to write any actual languishing, but, sadly, someone already claimed that title a week before I had a chapter ready for publishing. Also, I do not condone or recommend underage drinking.

Disclaimer: Here's a fact as true as day-
Homestuck I do not own.
As sure as trolls are colored gray,
I'll let this fact be known.


Dirk held his head as he nursed the autumn-flavored drink. For once, he had no fucking idea what to do. The only thing he'd thought of was to come over to his friend Roxy's and get pissed off his ass. Roxy always had alcohol available, and alcohol was exactly what he needed. What the hell had even just happened?

In retrospect, he should have seen it coming.

Dirk didn't know how he managed to miss it. It was as obvious as the ending of a cliche adventure film, the kind that was Jake's favorite, that this would be the outcome. Jake, he knew, had an excuse for not seeing it. He was oblivious as hell. But Dirk, he should have seen it coming.

"Hey, Rox," he croaked, feeling a headache coming on. "Pass me another drink?"

"You got it, babe," she winked at him and poured another glass of pumpkin martini. "Are you ready to talk yet?"

Jake English, Dirk knew, was a free spirit, the kind that reveled in adventure and excitement. His interests waxed and waned as temperamentally as the moon's did, and with none of the predictability. He was the kind of butterfly that preferred to flit from flower to flower, mercurial in his affections, his only obligation to a gentle breeze. Dirk Strider, on the other hand, was the type of guy to cage butterflies in gossamer nets, reveling in their beauty for far longer than intended. His affections and interests remained as steady as the thrumming bass in the dubstep music that he favored; he was the type of guy who wanted something that lasted forever- something less temporary than a fleeting butterfly.

It was a clash of personality from the start.

"No," grunted Dirk, slamming back the entirety of the glass. There were, by far, too many thoughts spinning around in his head.

He figured the best way to go about it was by looking at it scientifically. Science was a thing he could do.

Point one: Dirk Strider had broken up with Jake English.

He decided that, objectively, it was the result of a reaction. Sorta like chemistry. Now he just had to identify the reagents.

"C'mon, Dirky," Roxy pouted, snaking a manicured hand over his shoulder and rubbing it soothingly. "You'll feel better if you tell Roxy what's wrong."

"No," Dirk remained firm in his decision. "Pour me another drink, will you?"

Jake had been pussyfooting around the subject for what seemed like months, but was in actuality only five weeks. Dirk knew, because he'd been bringing up their relationship exponentially more often as of late. It was pretty obvious that Jake was getting tired of him; he'd been excusing himself from Saturday outings and casually avoiding him in the hallways at school. Dirk knew he could be pretty clingy sometimes, but hell if Jake never complained. The sudden detachment, quite frankly, pissed Dirk off. He would've given Jake some space of only he'd asked for it, goddamnit!

He came up with the following equation: One molecule of closely-bonded ionic DirkJake yields separate Dirk (minus an electron) plus Jake (plus an electron). And now, they both had the right number of valence electrons, so they could split up and go their own merry fucking ways.

Shit, he didn't even know. He was too drunk to worry about where their chemistry had gone wrong.

Roxy reluctantly poured him another drink, "Yanno, I won't judge ya for whatever it is that's got you in a mood."

Dirk decided to say something just to shut her up, "I'm movin' to Nevada in a week."

It was true, and he was pissed off about it. He hadn't gotten around to telling anyone yet- his brother had surprised him with the statement just yesterday. Something about needing to be on-set to film some desert movie. The first person he wanted to know was Jake, but when he called him to see if they could talk, Jake had stuttered out an excuse. Finally fed up with him, Dirk broke up with him over the phone, not even bothering to see him in person.

"Oh noes!" Roxy gasped at the news.

Dirk knocked back the rest of his drink. He was beyond tipsy now, and his problems with Jake were just beginning to blur into a fuzzy void.

"Hey," he slurred, dragging out the 'e' in his drunken drawl. "D'you think I could spend the night here?"

"Of course," Roxy agreed, helping him up. He slumped over her smaller frame. "Upsy-daisy, Dirky."

They hobbled upstairs to one of the guest rooms, where Roxy dropped Dirk off.

It was the worst night of sleep he ever got.


Pumpkin Martini:

1 oz. milk
2 tablespoons pumpkin puree
1 ½ oz. Three-O Vanilla vodka
1 ½ oz. crème de cacao
honey
graham cracker crumbs

1) Using a small amount of honey, rim martini glass with graham cracker crumbs.

2) Shake milk and pumpkin puree over ice to combine. Pour in remaining ingredients and shake well.

3) Strain into the martini glass. Drink while contemplating your relationship with your ex-boyfriend.

From Blisstree.