#I’m so scared that my dad can monitor my calls to my mom and records them all

[soulvee-animationz]

oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh fuck why why why

[storiesofsvu]

Classified Affairs Ch 25

No real pairing rn let’s be honest…. Warnings: language, chaos, a hot mess, alcohol consumption, politics, mentions of smut, arguing/fighting, drama, more shit hitting the fan, Jordan being the usual moron, a lot of anxiety. (Don’t worry…the next chapter is going to include *no* anxiety bull shit…I PROMISE you).

You managed to make it back to the condo in record time, thankfully managing to not run into Heather on your way out of the White House. Pushing the door open you jumped at the sight of Becca already in your kitchen,

“Jesus.”

“Sorry, I was looking for the Truly’s, figured you’d need one.”

“More like twelve. Just let me change.” You grumbled, dumping your bag on the stand by the door and kicking off your heels before crossing into your bedroom briefly.

“When’d you get the second screen?” Becca called, asking about the second monitor beside your t.v in the living room.

“Couple weeks ago? Remy set it up for me, considering the news has to be on like 24/7 nowadays.” You emerged from the bedroom in much comfier clothes, pulling your hair up off your neck. “So, sorry about that, but right now it definitely needs to be on.” Picking up the remote you clicked it on, the news channel automatically playing, and, no surprise to either of you, they were talking about Heather.

“God this is so fucking bad.” Becca murmured, moving to the other side of the island so she could hand you the hard seltzer.

“Thanks.” You took the can from her, taking a sip and noticed her staring, “what?”

“How fucking hard did she hit you?!” Her thumb traced under the mark, a look of disgust on her face.

“Oh…it must’ve been a ring/knuckle combo, and I bruise like a….peach…”

“You are considerably less covered in bruises now that you’re not running into tables and chairs at work all the time.”

“Yeah… just running into chairs in front of the President and doing it in heels.”

“Cheers to that?”

“Cheers to anything right now, fuck.” You tapped the cans together before taking rather large sips, swallowing, you let out a sigh, you really didn’t want to do this, but you knew you had to, “I need to ask you something.”

“Yeah?” She raised a brow at the expression on your face.

“And I need you to tell me the truth, I’m not gonna be pissed I just need to know.” You paused, “did you leak this?”

“Oh my god no!” She laughed, “listen, I fucking hate my Mom, and I am truly enjoying her going up in flames this election, but I would never! She’d be able to trace it back to me eventually, and I’d be literally scared for my life. Plus I know my Dad’s super fucking upset right now, he called as soon as the news drop happened, wanted to make sure that I turned off my social media accounts for a while, and to not listen to anything people were saying. And to not answer any questions if press started following me around or anything, especially cause I was at school today.”

“Okay.” You let out another sigh as you pinched at the bridge of your nose, “I just don’t understand why whoever did this left me out. Could it have been Jordan?”

“Jordan has successfully killed all of his brain cells already, remember? Besides, he wouldn’t give a shit if she knew it came from him, hell he’d post it on his own Twitter account just to rub it in that he got a fast one on her. And he’s definitely not smart enough to think about the girl’s privacy and redact the names. Or the bank account numbers.”

“True.” You tapped the Truly against your chin, “It just doesn’t make sense…”

“Could it have been another one of the candidates?”

“Probably. But like…that info…so much of it was incredibly classified, like…wouldn’t she shred it when she terminated the contracts? She told me to shred my old one when we reworked it.”

“She keeps everything. Why do you think my parents both have their own offices and a shared one? The house has an entire room dedicated to paperwork and documents for me and Jordan, half pink cabinets, half blue. Like, every single bank statement, medical record, medical procedures, report cards, acceptance letters, literally everything. Plus it’s probably one of her psychotic ways of keeping control over people in the future, like if they tried to pull shit on her years down the road, she’s still got it?”

“Probably…” you rolled your eyes, “is it bad that I’m glad that tactic came back to bite her in the ass?”

“Absolutely not bestie.”

“You hungry?” You suddenly turned to her, “I skipped lunch.”

“Yeah same. Trying to work on an essay and wasn’t allowed to eat in the library, like, I’m not even using your books, fucking stupid rules.”

“Suggestions?” You asked, grabbing your phone and a couple of other things from your bag before dropping down onto the couch.

“You’re the one that’s been living off take out, what do you not want?

“I’ve been living off room service, which is substantially better, especially when staying at fancy politician hotels. Though I did have Chinese pretty recently…”

“Is Pad Thai too similar? I kinda want something spicy.” She joined you on the couch, snagging the remote for the other tv to scroll through Netflix, even if she did have to watch it on mute with subtitles.

“Sounds fucking perfect. You calling that mom and pop place you like so much?”

“Yeah.” She replied as she pulled out her phone, “you want the usual?”

“Yes please.” You shot her a grin before the t.v grabbed your attention, “oh fuck!” You leant forward, turning the volume up as Becca turned around from her spot halfway through the room.

“She’s making a statement already?” You started to reply, but overheard the answer of the phone on the other end so your turned your focus back to Heather on the screen.

You’d picked up your phone when it had buzzed, forgetting that you’d turned on Google alerts for ‘Heather Dunbar’ a few weeks ago, letting out a sigh as you realized it was just that and swapping to your message app instead. Pulling up Jackie’s name you shot of a quick text,

‘You watching this?’

‘Are you buying any of it?’

‘Absolutely not. She’s spewing pure lies to try and save her ass. Honestly, she needs to drop out. Republicans were already going to come for her, but with the DUI and now this? Affairs? Most with women? She’ll never make it.’

‘Forget the Republicans, Underwood is definitely going to hammer this home next debate.’

‘Wait…she’s already done?’ You questioned as the announcement screen cut to black and it switched back to the newsroom.

‘It appears so. Turn off the t.v, take some time for yourself peach.’

‘I just feel like I should be monitoring things. And Becca wants to keep up to date on the ‘tea’ as she says.’

‘Okay. Just don’t wear yourself out. Remy’s monitoring this, if anything more important comes from it we can discuss it tomorrow.’

‘Okay.’

‘And…let me know if she tries to or does contact you again? Specifically about the leak. I don’t want her interfering with my staff.’

‘Of course.’

‘Enjoy the rest of your night’

‘I will. Don’t work too late.’

You added the last one with a small smile, knowing that she’ probably be up just as late as you despite both of you requesting the other take some time to relax, but that was just politics.

“Did I seriously miss all of it?!” Becca’s voice broke into your thoughts and your gaze shifted back up to her.

“Yeah..”

“I was on the phone for like, two minutes! What did she say?”

“The same lies and bullshit that she uses when she runs into someone she knows in public when she’s with one of her babies…that they were a member of her staff, personal assistants, nannies, old friends, someone who worked with her. That their bonuses covered the elaborate things like housing or whatever, and that this was all political bullshit that was clearly her opponents trying to smear her name.”

“God…if she fucking gets away with this…”

“I really don’t think she will. I’m sure you haven’t been paying attention too much to the DUI shit but it is…not going away, and we’ve still got a bunch of debates coming up before the candidacy is announced.”

“Well I hope they dig into her as much as they can.”

She dropped down on the couch again and you swapped remotes, muting the news channel and moving over to Netflix to distract yourselves. An episode and a few more Truly’s in and you noticed the way Becca was constantly shifting on the couch, you chuckled at the fact that she was still in school clothes, jeans not being her favourite.

“You want a pair of sweats?”

“Are you allowed to own sweat pants?” She teased with a grin and you scoffed.

“Oh fuck off, you want to be comfortable or not?”

“Yes please.”

You playfully smacked her arm as you moved from the couch to your room, beginning to dig through your closet. Despite Heather having had less control over you recently, and Jackie’s no opinion on your appearance unless you were on camera, your sweats were all still stashed at the back of your closet. It was taking you a bit to pull out the storage box, you heard the knock on the door, and Becca moving from the couch, the jingle as she grabbed her wallet to pay for the food.

*

Becca pulled the door open, small smile on her face ready to greet the usual teenage son of the restaurant owners who ran the delivery service. Instead her brow furrowed and she was instantly confused,

“Dad?”

“Becca?” Rob pulled back for a minute, glancing towards the door to make sure he’d gotten the number right.

“What’re you doing here?”

“I..it’s a bit of a long story. I thought you were living on campus?”

Sweatpants in hand you could hear that the conversation was taking longer than normal, shouting from the bedroom,

“You need more cash? I’ve probably got some stashed in here.”

Becca, slightly panicked, called back, “it’s uh..not the food.”

“I swear to fucking god!” You tossed the cash back into your safe keeping box, “Heather! I fucking told you months ago you were not allowed to just show up here out of the”— you froze as soon as you’d stepped out of the bedroom doorway, the image of Rob standing in the entryway increasing your anxiety by the millisecond, “oh…hi…”

“Y/n?” His brow furrowed, letting out a small chuckle, “you two have lost me now. Or..have you moved in together already?”

“Dad, no..” Becca cut in as Rob looked between you, wondering what your words meant as he tried to piece it all together. Suddenly, the realization washed over you and your eyes widened,

“Oh…my god…it was you…”

“What?” Becca’s brow scrunched as she looked between the two of you.

“The leak?” Rob asked, “yes…it was. I caught a red flag on our joint account, it didn’t take long after that to find everything I needed in her office. What I’m confused about is to who lives here? This was the last real estate purchase she made… I figured I could get some information to confirm things cause I know she’s going to have a ton of excuses outside of what she said politically.”

“Fuck…” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose before you leant against the island, “I’m so sorry…” you felt the emotion from earlier building up again, “if I had known…”

“Wait…” His brow furrowed once again as he glanced between the two of you.

“She was never my girlfriend Dad.” Becca shot out, “we work together at Shaw’s, we’re good friends, Jordan’s just an idiot. Y/n was doing me a favour coming to his birthday, she had no idea Mom was..well…Mom.”

“This is my condo.” You admitted, “and believe me…there was a lot I didn’t know about Heather when this….happened.”

“How did this all happen?” Rob asked and you shivered, moving through the kitchen, thankful at least that he wasn’t yelling at you the way Heather had. You pulled down the whiskey, pouring him a glass and officially letting him into your home.

“I met Heather at Salt Line, she was a regular of mine. She witnessed a table with a huge tab stiff me of a tip and overheard me stressing about a huge student loan payment, and that things were tough financially. She left a WAY too big tip, I felt awkward accepting it, she said in return to have dinner with her and things…progressed from there. I’m so sorry.”

“We met like a month later at Shaw’s,” Becca interjected, “and neither of us knew about the connection until Jordan’s birthday. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I just didn’t know how…and I knew Mom would hate me for it…”

“I tried to call things off, I swear.” You risked a glance up at him, “but she’s…”

“Insane.” Becca finished for you.

“And she thinks I’m responsible for this leak.”

“Fuck.” Rob replied, “I’m sorry about that, she’ll know in a few hours it wasn’t.” His gaze finally took you in as you were at opposite sides of the island, he noticed the forming bruise on your cheekbone, “oh god, please don’t tell me she hit you?” You let out a heavy sigh,

“Within the White House walls….”

“For fucks sake.”

“I need you to know how sorry I am.” You started, “the way she painted the picture? Neither of you were happy, no kids existed, you were working all of the time. She would always drop hints that made it seem like you were both having affairs. The moment at Jordan’s birthday when I realized you were her husband I was sick to my stomach.”

“She’s always been incredible at painting a picture.” Rob replied, sucking back more whiskey, “and for what it’s worth I’m not mad at you. I’ve always had a lingering suspicion in the back of my brain, I just didn’t realize the extent of it.” He let out a sigh, “I don’t want to drag anyone else into this that’s been cut off, can you tell me anything?”

“Legally no.” You sighed, sipping at your own drink, “but if Becca happened to go snooping through the bottom left drawer of my desk and happens to find a few things and show them to you that I might have a couple of comments on, I can’t object. Becks has keys to the condo, she found them all on her own.”

Instinctively Becca jumped up from her stool, immediately digging through your desk before pulling out the file folder, moving back to the island.

“This is giant.”

“The two on top are the newer ones, the bottom two are from our original agreement. And….there’s probably some stuff in there you don’t want to read…”

**

When Heather finally got home, she was absolutely drained and exhausted, still fuming over the entire situation, especially how vehemently you were denying everything. There was no one else this could have come from, she was certain it had been a combination of you, Rebecca and Jackie, perhaps with Underwood weaselled in there too. After the DUI leak, even with her attempts to fix that, something like this would definitely lose her more than a fair share of points.

She’d done her absolute best to deny, deny, deny and cover her ass, praying that the lies would be enough, and be believable, they had gotten her through over twenty years already, they should work now. She knew that press and opponents would definitely be digging in and doing everything they could to find some of the affairs to get statements from them and she could only pray that none of them came forward. One confirmation was all it would take to completely bring her down right now and she knew it.

She carelessly dropped all of her things in the main living room, stepping out of her heels and dropping the blazer over the back of the couch. Keeping her phone just in case Cynthia called she padded through the house to the kitchen, she hadn’t eaten since before lunch, being too busy and nervous to find the time or energy to eat and was starving. On top of that, she wanted a fucking drink, breezing passed the island as she tossed her phone onto it, prioritizing grabbing the bottle of scotch to pour herself a glass. She already had a large sip passed her lips when she turned back to the island, noticing the small stack of papers in the middle of it, a blue post it on top with Rob���s handwriting scrawled across it.

Curiosity got the best of her and her free hand reached out, sliding the stack towards her

‘You better have a fucking good explanation for today, and if you don’t, consider these signed and sealed.’

Peeling the post it off the papers her eyes scanned over the page and her heart dropped into her stomach.

The were fucking divorce papers.

“Fuck!” She yelled, the glass of scotch suddenly finding itself being hurled across the room, shattering against the wall before she buried her face in her hands. This couldn’t possibly be happening, she couldn’t lose her marriage in the midst of an election, Rob couldn’t possibly believe this, she’d done so well at upholding her perfect wife image over the years. Her mind started to fly between the little memories that may have been minor slip ups, lies that weren’t convincing, anything that Rob may have picked on. She wondered briefly if Rebeca had finally managed to man up and say something. Suddenly his voice rang through the room, causing her to jump,

“Glad to see you’re only assaulting walls right now.”

“What?” She asked as she looked up, her brow furrowed as her hands gestured upwards, having no clue what he was talking about.

“I can’t fucking believe you. Twelve different affairs during our marriage? Did you ever actually care at all?”

“Rob, come on! You can’t possibly believe this crap! It’s a fucking political shake down! Whoever leaked it was just trying to take me out of the race, none of it’s true.”

“Stop fucking lying to me Heather!”

“I am not!” She snapped, “you know shit like this is never true! It’s tactics to get the nomination.”

“You and I both know it isn’t!” He yelled back, stepping up to the island, “now, I’ve always known that the kids were solely for me and your so called image, and I’ve somehow been okay with that. But this entire thing was just for show! I loved you! And you chose to sneak around behind my back, and spend millions of dollars on other people constantly!”

“Seriously? Come on.” She pushed off the island, grabbing another glass to refill her scotch, “you’re just as daft and gullible as the rest of them. I’m going to figure out where this leak came from and I’m going to fucking destroy them, they can lie all they want about me, but it’s not fucking true.”

“I talked to y/n.”

Heather froze with her glass halfway to her lips, feeling her blood suddenly run cold. Though, if you talked, you technically broke the NDA.

“Big whoop, you talked with Rebecca’s girlfriend.”

“Jesus Christ you never stop do you.” He suddenly stepped forward, swiping the papers towards him and Heather’s eyes widened.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m done Heather. I’m so fucking done. Every word out of your mouth is a goddamn lie.” He swiftly scrawled his name across the dotted line, beginning to flip through the document, “I was maybe willing to give you a chance, to hear you out, whatever your explanation was for constantly having affairs. But instead, you decided that saving your political career and image was more important than checking in with your family?! You’re the pathetic one.”

“I told you it is a lie! Rob!” She attempted to snatch the pen from his hand and he stepped back from the island.

“I was the one who fucking leaked it all Heather!”

“What…” it was barely a whisper and suddenly she felt the ultimate betrayal, the person who was supposed to love her the most had destroyed her.

“I do thank you for at least using your own money and not our shared accounts for everything else but y/n’s last allowance came out of our joint account.

Fuck.

“I…I was helping her out with a couple of student loans.” She shrugged, but the shake in her voice gave her away in an instant.

“Another lie. I’ve seen the contract, and the NDA. Not to mention all of the other contracts that were in your filing cabinet. I’m guessing whenever you re-did the ones with y/n, you didn’t put the false bottom back in properly, or lock it. It was easy enough to find the key for the drawer itself. Twenty nine years and you finally slipped up….you nearly had me.” He’d went back to signing the papers, shoving the stack and the pen over to Heather when he was done.

“No.” She stated firmly.

“Oh for fucks sake.”

“Not until after the election.” She begged, “please.” In return Rob simply let out a dark laugh at the pout on her face, the attempted soft expression to get her way.

“You’re not in the position to be making deals right now. I’m not going to stay by your side and look like the pathetic husband who stands with his wife through this, I’m gone. Do you get that?”

“You…promised to be by my side for this!”

“And you made a VOW to me!!” He pinched at the bridge of his nose, “if they’re not signed by the end of the week I’m sending the lawyer after you, make a nice big show of it too, wait til you’re in front of a crowd, press, let the entire world see you get humiliated for once.”

“Rob…please…” Heather absolutely despised the fact that there were tears in her eyes right now, and honestly, she wasn’t sure if her heart was breaking because of the falling apart marriage, or the fact that she knew this would drive her down even further.

“Absolutely not. This is a no bargain situation. You’ve treated your own family —and from the stories I heard today—your sugar babies, like absolute trash for years, it’s time you get a taste of your own medicine. Thankfully the pre-nup will make this very fucking easy. Goodbye Heather.”

With one last firm look over, Rob walked away from the kitchen and Heather’s shoulders fell at the sound of the front door swinging shut behind him. There was no way for her to talk herself out of it this time, he’d seen everything, he wasn’t going to come walking back through that door ever again. She dropped her elbows back onto the island, burying her face in her hands as she let out a frustrated groan, she didn’t even want to think about the amount of work she was going to have to do to come back from this. Picking up her phone she shot off a text to Cynthia,

‘We need to find something on Jackie…something good. And we’re using the journal…’

Suddenly the back door to the house flew open and Jordan teetered in, he wasn’t drunk, but he was definitely tipsy and that enough was about to set her off and then he opened his fucking mouth.

“Oh hey, you’re home. Totally thought you’d be out there fucking one of your sugar babies since the entire world knows now.”

“Oh THAT IS IT!” She yelled.

“Yo! What?! I meant it as a complement, wait…who are you calling?”

“The D.A. The country wants to see you spend a year in jail? You’re going to fucking prison.” She growled, and then gestured toward the floor, “and clean up that glass!”

“That wasn’t me!”

“Do I look like I’m asking?!” She shot back before grabbing her glass, storming through the house as she left a message.

Upstairs she grabbed the bottle of scotch from the bar, beginning to fill the bathtub with lavender Epsom salts and shifted around the room lighting candles. If she had the house to herself, she was going to at least try and enjoy it. After slipping into the water, she picked up her phone, wondering if you were at home, then her mind flashed back to that morning, grimacing at the memory of the interaction in the conference room. There was no way you were picking up, especially tonight.

She’d finally fucking done it.

She’d basically isolated herself from everyone except Jordan. At least with the short leash he was on he’d be able to attend her appearances until he was shipped off, she’d still have some amount of support. Heather let out a groan, sucking back more scotch before dropping her head to the edge of the tub, how pathetic that all she had left was her horribly behaved son, and her campaign manager? How had she fucking managed that?

___________

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[babymetaldoll]

Dada (Matthew Gray Gubler/Reader)

Requested: Yes "Hi I recently started reading your fics and I'm absolutely in love with them. My favorite is "From Daddy to dad" I think it's called. I was wondering if you would be doing a part 2 for that since the reader was pregnant and with a girl this time, it'll be amazing to see Matthew with his daughter🥺"

Pairing: Matthew Gray Gubler/ Reader/ and their kids

Summary: Matthew is crazy for his daughter Mila, and all he wants is for everyone to know she can already say "dada." Spoiler alert, Mila might have other plans.

Category: Fluffiest fluff

Warnings: Zero

Word count: 1,3K

A/N: Hello everybody! I'm taking care of my grandparents for two weeks, and I haven't got much time to write. Dear Anon, I hope you like this fluff! 💜 ✨

Masterlist

****

Matthew felt there was a part of his heart that had never beat until he held his little baby girl in his arms for the very first time.

Her tiny hand touched his thumb, and just like that, she had him. All of him. In a way that he had never felt before.

Matthew Gray thought he knew love after meeting his wife. He thought he had understood loving someone till the bones when his son was born.

Now, Matthew knew what it felt like to be ecstatic and paranoid at the same time. He couldn't stop thinking about everything that might hurt his daughter.

Matthew Gray Gubler was going to be an overprotective father for Mila. And he wasn't even sorry in advance for everything he was going to do to keep her safe. Oh, all the times he was going to embarrass her growing up.

Having kids had changed Matthew's life. He wasn't the same man he was four years before when Vincent was born. And now, having a little girl... he felt he had a purpose in life. Taking care of his princess.

- "Ok, Bean, now please help me and keep these socks on until we get to the car, or mom is gonna kill me"- ten months old Mila chuckled and played with her legs as her father tried to get her dressed.

- "Come on, princess. Help me a little here. Dad needs to put you these cute mismatched socks on"

- "Dada!"- a soft, happy giggle followed Mila's first word. The baby looked at her father and reached out her tiny hands to him, trying to play with his messy hair.

Matthew couldn't even breathe. His eyes were filled with tears as an immense grin lodged on his lips.

- "What did you just say?"- he asked his daughter, trying to stay calm, to not scare her- "Who am I? do you know who I am?"

- "Dada!!"- little Mila repeated and giggled.

- "Yes, I am! I am your dada!! You are my princess, and I am your dada!" Gubler held his daughter in his arms, kissing her chubby cheeks and tummy over and over again, making her chuckle.

Vincent's first word had been "mama." Matthew never accepted he had always been a little jealous about that, mostly 'cos he had spent hours trying to get him to say "Dad." With Mila, he didn't even try it, but it made sense that was her first word. After all, her dad was with her all day, every day.

Yes. Matthew Gray Gubler was obsessive with his daughter. He took her everywhere with him.

- "Bunny!!! Bunny!!"- Matthew ran out the house holding Mila, hyperventilating- "Bunny!!"

- "Honey! What is it?! are you ok?! is Mila ok?!"- (Y/N) freaked out 'cos Gubler was way too nervous looking for her.

- "Listen!! Listen!! Listen!!"- he held his daughter close to (Y/N) and asked- "Bean, who am I?"- but nothing. (Y/N) looked at her baby and kissed her forehead. Mila giggled and raised her tiny arms to her.

- "Mila, who am I?"- Matthew repeated, trying to hold her closer to him. But Mila started pouting, trying to go with her mom until Gubler gave up and let her go.

- "She said ˝dada," I swear!"- Matthew explained (Y/N), who smiled at him and looked at Mila sweetly.

- "Did you start talking already? can you say ˝dada", Bean?- but the baby just babbled and giggled.

- "I'm gonna get you to repeat it, Bean, even if it takes the rest of the day- he said to his daughter seriously. And he meant it.

****

The Gublers had a quiet day. Their whole plan was to take the kids to a quick check-up with the doctor because Vincent had had chickenpox a few weeks earlier, along with all of his preschool class 'cos one kid passed it on to all the kids.

After that, they had lunch in one of their favorite places, 'cos neither of them felt like cooking. And while the waitress came with their order, Matthew tried to get Mila talking again.

- "Hello there, baby girl"- he held her in his arms and kissed her cheeks- "Can you say "dada" again?"- but Mila just babbled.

- "Why are you so obsessed with her talking?"- (Y/N) asked her husband, smiling- "Once they start, they never stop,"- she added and looked at Vincent. He was sitting on her lap, drawing, and singing a Paw Patrol song.

- "I'm not obsessed. I just want you to hear Mila saying it."

- "Are you still jealous because Peanut said "mama" five minutes before you got him to say "dada"?"

- "I have never been jealous of that!"- Matthew had always been jealous of his wife because of that. He was never going to admit it, though.

- "Ok, honey. Whatever helps you sleep at night"- (Y/N) teased him helped Vincent with his drawing. Gubler looked at Mila and kissed the top of her head.

- "Who am I, Bean?"- but again, Mila just smiled.

****

- "Bunny! I'm going to get something for dinner. We ran out of cheese and ice cream- Matthew announced to his wife, who was playing with Vincent in their family room. Gubler had been carrying Mila with a baby wrap carrier the whole day, still trying to get her to say "dada" again. By then, the little girl had fallen asleep against his chest.

- "Great, can you get some tomato sauce? I'm in the mood for pasta for dinner,"- (Y/N) said, and Vincent wide opened his eyes, excited with the idea. He loved spaghetti.

- "And what do you need, Peanut?"

- "A truck, green paint, and babana pudding."

- "Banana pudding?"- Gubler corrected, chuckling and his son nodded with a huge grin- "You got it."

Walking around the store, talking with his daughter, Matthew felt he was home. Mostly because that was what he would do most of the day, he carried baby Mila everywhere:

To the store, and would ask her for her opinion of every brand of candy he would get.

To the set, along with Vincent. He would play with them between shots and tell everyone they were his kid, like the proud father he was.

He carried Mila for long walks around the neighborhood when she started teething and didn't let (Y/N) sleep at night, so his wife and son could nap together.

- "Dada!"- Mila yelled and touched her father's face smiling- "Dada!! Dada! Dada!"- she repeated over and over again.

Gubler moved quickly, trying to grab his phone from his pocket to record his baby daughter, but by the time he got it, Mila was silent again.

- "Are you trying to make me look bad in front of your mom?"- he asked the baby and kissed her cheeks sweetly.

- "This ain't over yet, missy."

****

- "Finally, Vincent is asleep,"- Matthew whispered, crawling into bed with his wife- "And it only took me five books."

(Y/N) chuckled and caressed her husband's hair, her fingers playing sweetly with his curls.

- "That's probably your fault. You are too good impersonating voices"- and Gubler chuckled. - "I mean it. You make an amazing Mufasa. James Earl Jones would be jealous."

- "Simba"- Matthew said in a low voice, making (Y/N) laugh.

- "Dada!"

There was a deep silence in the room. (Y/N) and Matthew looked at each other with widened eyes.

- "Dada!"- Mila repeated, giggling, her tiny voice coming from the baby monitor.

- "I told you she could say it!!"- Gubler smiled triumphantly to his wife, and she leaned in to kiss his lips.

- "I am happy you are her first word, honey. That baby girl is crazy for you, as you are for her. She is a daddy's girl for sure"- Gubler chuckled, feeling proud in a way. It was like his daughter was approving his parenting.

- "Dada!"- Mila said again, and Matthew giggled.

- "Someone is calling for you,"- (Y/N) whispered, feeling her husband kissing her again.

- "Dada duty calls"- he answered with a big smile- "Got any reading request?"

- "Any Dr. Seuss would be nice,"- (Y/N) said and kissed his lips for the third time. - "I'll keep the monitor on"

- "I'll make my best Cat in the Hat impersonation."  

Taglist

@all-tings-diego​

[kireilixie]

i. Bittersweet Vanilla | Bang Chan x Reader

° 𐐪𐑂 synopsis: Have you ever heard of the phrase, “Right person, wrong time?” You and Chan would have made such a perfect couple had your destinies and dreams not gotten in the way. With no assurance of what you each truly felt for one another you both struggle to keep each other grounded among the different obstacles you face.

° 𐐪𐑂 genre: idolverse, angst, childhood friends, pro swimmer! reader

° 𐐪𐑂 warning(s): mentions of abuse, trauma, insomnia, anxiety attacks, depression, death of a family member

° 𐐪𐑂 8k words

° 𐐪𐑂 author's note: Hello! I am extremely sorry that this was published late, but unfortunately, my other priorities in life came up so I had to push back the release and editing. As you know, bittersweet vanilla is a fic I released a year or so ago. This is a fic I hold dear to my heart, and I was a bit disappointed with how I had written it, especially with the multiple plot holes and gaps. This led me to rewrite and expound on the development of both reader and Chan, this fic will hold the same plot as the previous fic but will be much more detailed compared to the original one. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy and show this fic some love!

series | next | ao3 | Spotify playlist

Such a simple yet comforting flavor

A few blocks from school, two from your swimming club and one from the street you lived on, was an ice cream parlor. Winter’s Star was a place of comfort for both you and Chan, albeit not being that popular for its remote location. It had begun a small tradition and routine for you both.

Ice cream after swim training had become a norm for you both, despite the strict healthy diet your father had established for your growth as a swimmer. You would both intentionally opt not to take the bus and walk to the parlor as to walk off the calorie intake you’d get from the dessert as to get your father off your case.

Every time you’d visit, Chan would dash in, beaming over the glass in excitement at the variety of flavors, selecting a different flavor for every visit, a stark difference to your simple preference of classic vanilla.

And every visit, Chan would tilt his head and pout in confusion, asking why you’d get that every single visit. And each time you’d reply, “I’m paying, and I like it that’s why.” rolling your eyes as he sighs at your boring nature.

Though one evening, after practice had ended a bit later than usual, you can see him deadpan at the sight of the creamy white of your vanilla ice cream. And though he doesn’t ask, you decide to explain, “I’d simply not want to risk trying something new, and honestly I just like sticking with what I’m comfortable with.” You shrug, popping a spoon of the comforting flavor into your mouth.

Chan doesn’t ponder much at your explanation nor does he reply that day, too exhausted to think of one.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

This routine of yours had begun the summer before middle school. Moving a lot at a young age, Chan had found it difficult to get settled into the new atmosphere, with his distinct features, he barely fit in. Therefore he found himself once again in the corner of his new school’s swim club unsure of how to apply and whom to approach.

His eyes wandered around, observing the different children doing laps and warming up. Swimming was a sport he and his father enjoyed, and it had made his father extremely happy that he had taken enough interest in it to compete in the said sport.

“Oi, newbie, what are you doing here?” The smaller boy flinched at the loud voice, turning towards the source. He sighs, here we go again, the nine-year-old boy thought.

“I c-came t-to a-apply for the swim club.” The boy managed to softly stutter out, eyes downcast, feeling intimidated by the difference in height.

“And at your puny size, ya think ya can swim fast-”

“Oi, why don’t ya shut up Jacob? A big dumb bully like yourself can’t beat me and here you are trying to scare the newbie, being all talk. Why don’t you stop wasting your time picking on new people and spend it practicing and trying to improve your times.” Chan widened his eyes as he turned to the female voice that had interrupted the confrontation.

He was shocked to see a girl around his age, twirling her goggles around her fingers as she approached Jacob, as she had called him, and his crew that currently surrounded the smaller boy.

Jacob, quite flustered with the unknown girl’s statement, attempted to come up with a good comeback but failed to do so as he muttered, “Why’re you butting in L/n, don’t you usually mind your business?” Eyes avoiding yours in the process.

“And so, what if I decide to butt in? Does your ego inflate at hounding the new kid? If it isn’t going to make you swim faster, I suggest you get your butt moving.” The smaller girl scoffed, raising her eyebrow at them, daring them to cross her.” I suggest you all get moving before I call the coach and tell him you’re slacking, wouldn’t want to swim extra laps now?”

Before Chan could even blink, they’re all dashing off into their respective sides of the pool. The transferee chuckled at that, in awe at the confidence the girl carried. She introduced herself, (Y/N) (L/N) he had learned that day, specialized in free, though claimed to be preparing herself for Individual medley.

Chan introduces himself as well, mentioning that he specialized in butterfly. At the revelation, her eyes glowed in excitement as she tugged the smaller boy towards her father.

“Dad! He swims butterfly! He can complete the relay!” Chan observed, fascinated by the complete 180 in her vibe, wherein the confidence and intimidation she had carried earlier, now dissipating to something more suited for a fellow nine-year-old.

She bounces in excitement, tugging at the end of her father’s shirt, to garner his attention. “We can finally have a relay!”

Finishing his conversation on the phone, her father turned towards the pair, raising an eyebrow at her daughter’s excitement. Bending down to their height the older man asked for Chan’s name, to which he replied a soft ‘Christopher Bang’ at this the older man’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You’re that boy that broke the record for the 50 m freestyle swim! Your dad called me earlier to inform me that you had transferred here and wanted to join, fill this up, and (Y/n) here can show you your lockers and the shower rooms to change.”

“Really! What’s your time?! Ugh, I hope it’s not faster than mine.” You had frowned at him, enthusiasm and competitiveness lighting her e/c hues at the revelation of a broken record in her specialty. “Come on, you change, then we race. Loser has to buy ice cream.”

You raced five times and lost all five. It had frustrated you though at the same time had triggered a new type of excitement at the knowledge of someone who would no longer shy away from your competitiveness.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

Since your first meeting, Chan had indeed become a huge influence and development in your already hectic life. It had shifted your dynamics and attitude towards the sport you had dedicated your life to since you could walk.

Before meeting Chan, you had little to no drive when it came to training and warmups, accustomed to the fact that no one could come close to you in your age range and category. Though now, with the Korean-Australian around, not only did it shift your energy towards the sport, but something had shifted in your relationship with your father along the road.

Your father was a loving man, dedicated to his daughter and bedridden wife, he had been applauded far and wide for raising such a talented daughter dedicated to a sport he too had once dedicated himself to.

It may have seemed that way to the public. However, during the early stages of your childhood, your mother had been in and out of the hospital, something that your five-year-old self couldn’t have understood nor questioned. Living comfortably with the income your father had as a coach and your mother’s family inheritance, your father had opted to hand you over to nannies and private chauffeurs to ensure that you were busy and occupied.

Among the multiple extracurriculars your father had enrolled you in, you had been six when your interest in swimming had peaked. At the discovery of your interest, it had only been then when your father had decided to become more attentive and present in your childhood.

In awe of how quickly you picked up the technique and the different styles, your father had enthusiastically enrolled you into more classes and going further as to fix your diet around the sport, proudly declaring he would raise an Olympian in his stead.

At the age of seven, he had entered you into your first tournament, there you had gotten gold, and honestly, that didn’t matter. What mattered was the warm embrace your father had given you.

Shortly after the tournament, you had arrived home, surprised to see that there had been more staff present as well as unfamiliar people dressed in pajama-looking attire and some donning a white coat.

Soon your nanny leads you into a room faintly smelling like medicine and cleaning materials, it made your nose sting. Though what caught your eye was the bedridden figure connected to multiple machines next to her, sunken eyes, and ghastly figure, you had not been able to recognize your mother.

Having little to no memories of the woman that had given birth to you, made you blink back tears as she called you, voice frail and raspy “Y/n? Is that you? My how big you’ve grown.”

You had slept in her room that night, the soft beeping of monitors and machines lulling you to sleep as you dreamed of picnics and beach trips had faith decided not to be so cruel.

It was then when you promised yourself to bring your mom more medals if it meant spending more time with her. Each tournament you’d finish, you would run in, carefully avoiding wires and the nurses, beaming in excitement about the race and how good you did.

“Are you happy?” She had said to you one day.

“Of course! I just wish you could come to see me swim.” You smile, understanding bits and pieces of her condition, you had never been that good in science.

“Do you have friends in school? Spend time with them, instead of here with me.” The statement confused you, remembering how your father had ensured that you were picked up from and to, preventing you from having playdates, with the statement that they would be mere distractions to your training.

“No not really, but I like being here with-”

“Y/n, you should be living your childhood alright, can you promise me that, love?” She raises her hand to your cheek, caressing it softly.

“Okay, I will, mom.”

A few days after that conversation, you had met Chan, a boy who would, later, be your north star.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

Chan was never careless, especially when it came to things like equipment and his stuff in general, he was always so thorough when it came to packing, so it was rare to see him coming back to school to get something he had forgotten.

What he also hadn’t expected was to see you here as well, fully knowing that your father had a private pool in his residence used not only to train you but as well his private students.

“You had been getting too comfortable, look at your weight, look at your times.” Chan hears your father’s voice from the locker rooms, the Korean Australian hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but with how loud your father’s voice echoed it was hard not to do so. “Do you think your mother would be proud?”

“She said, I should make friends-”

“YOUR MOTHER IS SICK.” Chan flinches at your father’s loud voice as it echoes.

“She’s sick, just because she says something it doesn’t mean you should follow through.” Your father’s voice softens this time, exhaustion peeking through.

“Friends? You’d be distracted and before you even know it. You’d be toppled off that little podium of yours.” He pauses, scoffing. “Don’t make me regret allowing you to hang out with the Bang boy. Beat his times, don’t get too comfortable just cause you’re topping your bracket.”

Chan doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath till he hears both your footsteps as you exit the hall. What he’s heard has left him baffled, you weren’t exactly talkative when it came to your family affairs, you never seemed to be so bothered either.

The Korean-Australian remembers faintly the rumors that followed your persona. All about your reluctance when it came to making friends, never taking into consideration that perhaps your father had played a part in your icy exterior and reputation.

No wonder most of the kids in your academy had been so shocked to see you interact and talk with the transferee, knowing that you had never been the type to prefer company.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

It wasn’t like you to be so careless either, you were quite attentive when it came to maintaining your grades and health as an athlete.

So, the D on your most recent math test, as well as the onset symptoms of cold was something that had made your blood run cold. Your school followed a strict protocol that required athletes to maintain a good record, which included having Bs and upon all tests.

Anything less than that would mean a week of suspension when it came to training as well as being supplied a set of reviewers to “catch up”, which you were required to finish and submit by the end of the suspension.

Not only that but surprisingly, your father was quite sensitive when it came to your physical welfare, a result of your mother’s condition, honestly. Which meant that the man would not let you near any body of water until you would be in perfect health.

Dread seemed to settle into your system as you hand him your slip, which would signify your suspension. “You were coughing earlier, take time off, I’ll call the nutritionist to change your diet. I’ll call the tutor-”

“You’re getting a tutor?” Chan beams behind your father, “I can help you, I’m in advanced remember?”

Times like these the Korean- Australian baffled you with his audacity, as he continued to grow out of his shyness, and despite your dad having explicitly stated that he had preferred you not to spend any time with your fellow swimmer, he still respected the Korean Australian’s talent and dedication to the sport.

“You’re in advanced math classes Chris?” Chan nods at this in hopes that the coach would consider his offer. “Your times have gotten better, you could take a few days off, with her.”

What?

You’re both in the locker rooms packing your bags when you whisper, “How’d you do that?”

“What do you mean?” Chan hums, amused by your intrigued form.

“My dad, your coach, the F/n L/n, agreed with your suggestion. How did you do that?” You’re poking at his sides, determined to make him spill.

“Secret~” He pokes his tongue out, running out of the training hall.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

You had your chauffeur, drop you off in the Bang Residence, surprised to learn that you lived a street down. You’re warmly welcomed by Chan’s parents greeting and smiling at them through your mask.

“Looks like you didn’t my help nor a tutor, Y/n” Chan smiles seeing that you’re almost through seven worksheets, the swimmer knew you were smart and could keep up with your grades. Though for you to be this careless, he knew that something might’ve been bothering you.

“Come on, let’s go.” You’re shocked as he pulls you up to stand, making you drop your pen and papers, the boy barely gives you any room to argue before he’s pushing you out of the doorway.

“But- my work”

“Could be done within the week remember? Not in one go.”

Before you could even argue, you’re flabbergasted to find yourself seated on a bus, on the way to some location that Chan would not tell you anything about. “We could’ve taken the car, Chan.”

“And where’s the fun in that?” He grins dimple popping out.

“Just remember we have to be back at seven before my driver arrives-”

“Yada-yada, we’ll be fine now let’s have some fun, my style, and my treat!” Chan gestures to the mall you’ve arrived at, giggling at your stunned expression.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

Honestly, you’ve never ridden a bus, nor have you been to a mall, or arcade. These are all things you’ve seen in films and movies, living such a secluded life, your father would bust a vein to find out that you were here.

Though there’s a first for everything. It’s also been a while since you’ve had this much fun, laughing, and giggling at every little thing. You’re thankful to have released a little bit of stress, even for just a moment.

Chan even manages to win you a small whale plushie from the arcade. Though you probably think he could’ve saved by just buying you one from the shop across. It amazes you to see teenagers and kids just your age, littered across the mall, you had never thought to come to a place like this.

“Thanks for today.” You nudge him with your elbow, the plushie safely tucked underneath your armpit, digging into the vanilla ice cream you had gotten on the way home.

“Sure, but you’re treating me next time.” You halt, raising an eyebrow at the older boy.

“What do you mean next time?”

“Y/nnnnnn..” He drags your name in a whine. “Fun things are supposed to be done again, you can’t just live your life just swimming and going to school. We’re kids! We’re supposed to have fun and live life and make memories! That’s what life’s supposed to be! Alright?”

You should be living your childhood. Your mother’s voice pierces through your head, at Chan’s words, had this been what she meant?

“Hey. are you crying? Ya! Don’t cry” You hear Chan say something inaudible perhaps in Korean, as he frets over your crying figure, you see him pat himself down, hearing a small “aha!” before he’s reaching over to dry your tears with a handkerchief.

Softly patting down your cheeks, he sighs. “You don’t have to tell me, what’s wrong, but I’m right here, and I will always be.” He’s pulling you into a hug, you feel your body stiffen from the contact, surprised at the display of intimacy.

You don’t question why, but it feels warm and safe. Just like a cup of vanilla ice cream after a nice swim on the beach.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

“Hey, wake up, we’re here” a soft nudge pushes at your side, you hum in response, finding the boy’s shoulder comfortable.

Chan sighs, smiling at how comfortable you were with your head on his shoulder, cooing at your initiation of intimacy. It had taken you a few years before you were comfortable with any form of affection at all, putting two and two together to realize it must’ve had something to do with your family.

The young swimmer was well aware he was never obliged to fix you nor your situation despite his young age, but seeing you glow and smile at the different yet simple aspects of life that had been prohibited by your situation made him feel warm.

Ever since your first hug, albeit its awkwardness, you had become more receptive to little bits of physical affection and verbal affirmation. Chan smiling as recalled the first time you had initiated a hug, mindlessly throwing your arms around your best friend after he had gotten you a present for your birthday. Needless to say, you had become quite flustered at the realization of your actions.

Over the past few years, your father’s complaints about your friendship with Chan had lessened, seeing your continuous development in terms of grades and dedication. And despite being friends, the competitive fire within you had never ceased, holding on to that desire to beat Chan’s record.

The sun has set. You realize as you open your eyes, blinking out remnants of your drowsiness as you yawn. You’re raising your head from Chan’s shoulder when you realize his hand was extremely close to your face.

You’re jolting up in embarrassment before muttering, “Have I been drooling?” Quickly patting and wiping your lips for saliva.

“Uh, maybe, but it’s f-”

“Don’t you dare say it’s fine Christopher! Augh! This is embarrassing you should’ve woken me up!” You’re storming out of the car, cheeks warm in your flustered form.

Chan chuckles, how cute.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

Ever since hearing of your newly found friend, your mother had continuously asked for you to bring Chan over. And since their meeting, your mother had continuously asked for the return of your polite and talented friend.

It amused you how your mother stated he was like an angel with his voice and good nature, well she wasn’t entirely wrong. Your mother had never shared anything about her life before her sickness, you knew that she had been an only child like you, and from the number of books and records on the shelf in her room, as well as the violin and record player on the side, her interests must’ve been aligned with those.

So when Chan had asked, “What’s your mother like?” You didn’t really know how you could respond to the question and before you know it the line of liking music and books had been stumbling out of your mouth.

Chan’s eyes had lit up at the mention of music, proceeding to ask which artist, what genre. Though with observant eyes, Chan could see your aura dim, he decides to drop the topic, he asks you about the latest Pokemon game. That had been the first time, you’d taken note of Chan’s interest in music.

Though it still surprises you when the day he meets your mother, he arrives with a fresh fruit basket and a ukulele.

He had smiled at your mother that day before he began strumming a soft melody you didn’t recognize. It takes him a while before he states that he had made the melody on his own, struggling to find the lyrics to suit them.

You remember your mother’s words; “It should come from here, whatever you do in life, ensure that your heart will beat for it.” She had said.

Your mother at times was an enigma, speaking in poetry that you struggled to decipher. Some days, you were envious when you’d see her with Chan, seemingly sharing a secret they wouldn’t let you in on. Chan would always seem to understand the puzzling lines she’d say.

It’s another afternoon to which your mother had invited Chan over, you’re both stepping into her room when you find her immersed in one of her classics, a thick leather bounded book, you’d be too terrified to try and read, without busting a vein.

She doesn’t look up, when she hears you two enter, she never does, and you know better than to disturb her amidst her reading. Though you admit that there’s this aura about your mother when she’s immersed in a book, it’s as if she takes a step into the world she’s reading about, escaping whatever pain she currently faces in reality.

It’s only until you set the peeled apples on the table next to her when she looks up. “How has your day been, love? Your father hasn’t been overworking you too much?” She sets the book and her glasses on her bedside table.

“I’m fine mum, Chan brought you some apples, and look they’re cut like bunnies.” She smiles as you offer a slice into her mouth, carefully biting onto it.

“That’s good to hear, Chan dear, my you’ve grown look how tall you’ve grown since I last saw you.” Your mother reaches to ruffle his curls.

“Mom you saw him last week-”

“Have I? really auntie!” You roll your eyes at the overly enthusiastic reply at the mention of his height.

A knock halts your conversation, the door opens to reveal your father’s secretary, she calls your name, stating that your father had called you into his office. You take one last look at Chan and your mother, letting them know that you’d be right back.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

Perhaps it’s the thick atmosphere of your father’s office, but at the sight of the envelope with its infamous school colors, it’s as if all the oxygen in the room had been sucked out.

Your father passes you the envelope, “Everything’s been settled, we can get you a flat there, or perhaps you’d like to live in their dorms. You start next semester, you can move after your graduation.-”

“Does mom know?”

“She does.”

“When had this been sent in?”

“Just last week, you really don’t need to worry about anything dear, be sure you graduate and get a good result on next week’s tournament.” Right graduation.

With all the exams you had recently finished as well as training it had completely slipped your mind that you were entering high school in two months.

You faintly recall a conversation you and Chan had after finding out about his interest in music. “(Y/n), What are you going to be when you grow up?” He had asked you during one of your trips to the ice cream parlor, digging into his salted caramel ice cream.

The question caught you off guard. What did you want to do? Eyes downcast you began to finding interest in the vanilla ice cream, as you picked at it. “I’ll probably continue swimming, that’s what my dad wants.”

“Yeah, that's what your dad wants, but what do you want? Like I want to do something with music! I want to use it as a platform to spread messages, to help people find comfort in music the way I do.” He had looked so bright, so gleeful, like a star so far and out of reach.

“Oh, that’s amazing Chris. Though I don’t know what I want to do.” How you wish you were just as passionate as Chan, wishing you could break through your comfort zone to chase after the one thing you loved the most.

“Then I’ll help you find something, something you’ll come to love the way I do with music.”Maybe at that time, I had found something to love, maybe I just didn’t know it yet. “But if you love swimming, then you’ll be the greatest swimmer in the world, you’ll be an Olympic medalist!” He raises his ice cream cup as a toast, you clink yours with him, smiling at how happy he looked.

Chan was your north star, no matter which direction the universe spun, he remained unwavering, shining bright and leading you to home, him, your comfort.

Dazed, you don’t realize you’ve been standing in front of your mother’s room until Chan opens the door, he yelps in shock at the sight of your deadpanned eyes.

He says something in Korean, clutching his heart at the unintentional scare. “You scared me, why are you standing there like some zombie.”

“Oops, sorry just a bit occupied.” Quickly hiding the envelope behind your back, something his eyes don’t miss. “Let’s go, dinner’s ready.”

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

After dinner you decide to take a walk to have some ice cream at the familiar parlor you frequented ever since becoming friends and after you had lost to him the first time you met.

Sitting down you both order, asking for your usual vanilla-flavored ice cream, Chan picks the mint chocolate chip, a special for the week. He’s silent all of a sudden, fixing you with a serious gaze as he takes in a deep breath. It made you uneasy suddenly as if whatever he would say next would change your fate.

And it did.

“Y/n remember when I said I wanted to make music?” He asks, fiddling with the spoon, nervous which was a rare sight for the charismatic boy.

You hum in response allowing him to continue. “Well, my parents and I made a deal, they would allow me to live in South Korea as a trainee, as long as I got into a good company. And well I got in, you’re now looking at the latest Australian trainee of JYP Entertainment. I'm leaving after the tournament next week!” He points to himself with his thumb, smiling and giddy to hear your response.

Korea as in Korea within Asia? That's 6828 kilometers away!

“(Y/n), are you alright? You’re not saying anything, there is something wrong.” Without noticing you had turned your head down, allowing your hair to create a curtain between you two. He reaches out to tuck your hair behind your ears and is surprised to be met by your tear-stained cheeks. “You’re crying.” He says, unsure of what to say and what made you upset. “Are you not happy I got in?”

“No, I'm happy! You’re finally getting what you dreamed of! You’re going to be amazing Chris. I’m crying because of how happy I am for you.” I’m going to be all alone. You’re going to be living 6828 kilometers away, in a foreign country when we barely turned 14. I’m going to be all alone. I want to be happy for you but why does this hurt so much? I’m going to be all alone.

You might as well tell him. “I’m moving, I got into Griffith so I’m moving into the dorms as well.”

“That’s huge! That place is a breeding ground for Olympians! That’s amazing! We’re both chasing after our dreams, after all. Congratulations Y/n.” It honestly didn’t feel like something to be happy of.

All will be alright, with time. We’ll be alright.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

The next following day came faster than expected you both tried to pretend he wasn’t leaving in the next few days, you tried to pretend that you’d still be able to see one another in the next few years and maybe the next few days. A sense of normalcy in the upcoming days of uncertainty. Neither of you had any idea what fate had in store for you both and you could only hope.

And soon enough the day of the tournament finally rolls around. You’re buzzing with excitement as you entered the building. Chan, on the other hand, was nervous at this being his last swim meet, he hoped to make this as memorable as possible. And though you never say it, Chan knew that deep down you loved swimming, no matter how much you tried to make it out that you only did it for your dad.

He sees you glow the moment you step into the pool, he knew you’re meant for this, to be up there with the pro athletes he too had admired. And as much as it hurt him to leave you, he’s stunned and in awe of how much stronger you’ve become.

He loved the confidence that you had as you walked into the competition hall, ignoring the curious gazes, and turning heads at the mention of your name. You have been destined to reign the competitive world of swimming, and he knew he wasn’t as good as you were to reign alongside you. He had accepted that a long time ago.

He walks with you to the locker room to prepare and change, trailing a few steps after you. Observing the looks of both younger and older swimmers in awe at the sight of you, your reputation in the sport was indeed something to uphold.

You turn to him gripping your gym bag tightly, which he had offered to carry but had been rejected along the lines of saying that you were a woman that could carry your belongings or something like that. “Well, I’ll see you later, wish me luck.” You raise your fist to him, initiating your signature good luck handshake before every competition. The handshake brought you a lot of reassurance and strength, taking away any worries you’d have.

You grin at him one last time, turning at your heels to enter the room, but before you take another step, he pulls you in for a hug, squeezing you tightly, your hands awkward by your sides, unsure of whether to hug him back. “You don’t need luck, go wreck them.”

You scoff at his words, finally deciding to wrap your arms around his shoulder. “Of course, see ya later Bangaroo.”

Up in the stands Chan observes you as you take your positions on the starting block, he smiles to himself as he sees you wearing the goggles and swim cap, he had given you during your last birthday. He had saved for it the whole year to surprise you with your favorite swimming brand. You had teared up at the gift, before smacking him for the times he had complained every time you invited him to the parlor.

He had never seen you wear the cap and goggles at practice, you had told him you had to save the luck for competitions. He had asked you to explain though you brushed off the statement by pushing him into the pool.

“It’s nice to see you here, isn’t this your last swim meet?” Chan blinks in surprise as the older man takes a seat beside him joining him to observe his daughter.

“Coach (L/n)..” Chan greets, unsure of what to say. Since, the knowledge of his rough treatment of his best friend, he had preferred not to stay too close to the older man, aware of his dislike for him.

“She’s still as amazing as ever.” Your father whispers in awe more to himself rather than Chan. “I was surprised you know, at her growth and development since your arrival. You’ve been an amazing push to her capabilities as a swimmer, that I have to admit.”

The older man stands up all of a patting him on the shoulder, “Well good luck, and thank you for giving her that push. Hug her for me later.” Chan’s surprised by the time your father leaves is just in time you finish the swim, realizing you had already won.

28.08 He gasps as he sees the scoreboard alongside your name. 28.08 You had broken his 50M Free record by a second, after years of competing and ice cream trips, you’ve finally done it. He sees you shocked as well, he meets your eyes, throwing you a thumbs up from the stands, grin highlighted by his dimples.

You looked radiant, a small voice in his head reassures him that he made the right choice., that you’d be alright. He starts heading toward the locker rooms to prepare. He’s stunned by your father’s words, he knows in his heart he made the right decision, and he knows he shouldn’t let this bother him, especially when he’s about to compete.

He steps into the starting block, slipping on his goggles, snapping them against the back of his head to erase any of his worries. Lastly, he’s putting on his swim cap. Taking deep even breaths, it’s his last swim. Chan wants to make this as memorable as possible.

He closes his palm clenching it, testing to see how shaky and nervous he was, only to see that it wasn’t that bad. His heart rate isn’t so accelerated either. They’re given the signals to take their positions. And Chan is surprised there are no unpleasant jitters in his stomach.

Chan reacts with the beep, kicking off the starting block and then diving into the waters, he feels the pull of gravity just as he surfaces to take his first breath. Rotating from his shoulders, he paces his breathing for the first lap to maintain his stamina. Though once he approaches the end, he gives a powerful kick to the touchpad turning as he accelerates. In the last lap, he pushes himself to go faster, erasing all thoughts and worries. He reminds himself that this is his specialty, the one style in swimming you couldn’t beat him at. He’s slipping his goggles and swim cap before he even realizes he won.

Chris places gold. And it feels exhilarating, he feels so happy he could cry. He sees you in the stands, grinning and he’s sure he mirrors your grin.

You’re taking a few pictures, not missing the chance to take matching iconic pics biting gold medals. A small voice at the back of your head asks what the odds of would be you two doing these pictures at a larger scale.

After dinner, which his parents had invited you to, you’re both walking to that ice cream parlor two blocks from his house. You’re chuckling as Chan waves his wallet, a show that he would be paying for the first time.

You smile as he hands you, your usual cup of vanilla-flavored ice cream. You’re now walking back to his house, soaking up the comfortable atmosphere trying to let the events that happened today sink in. Chan would be leaving tomorrow morning, and you’d be leaving in a few weeks as well.

“So, mister idol, are you excited?” Deciding to break the silence, nudging at him as his ears turn pink.

“A bit, it’s a huge leap, you know, absolutely knowing no one, I still have an accent when I speak in Korean it might sound weird, gosh I have to make friends and all that. But oh god, what if I can’t make any? What if I don’t debut? What if I just don’t cut it? Oh god, you’re not going to be there to treat me to ice cream, to binge on anime, treat me to food and ice cream. I just-” Chan pauses as his voice cracks, footsteps coming to a halt, “I’m just going to miss Australia so so much.”

You find yourself gaping, as you see the taller boy crumble. Between the two of you, it had always been you to be the emotional one, the crybaby, on the other hand, Chan had always been your rock and your shoulder to cry on no matter the situation. Seeing him cry pulled at your heartstrings, soon enough you’re throwing your arms around him, rubbing circles into his back.

“You’re going to be fine, Chris, you’ll be amazing, and if any of them starts anything with you, I’m booking a flight to kick their arse.” Pulling away from the hug, you cup his cheeks, wiping his tears for the first time in your friendship.

Knowing how worried he was with all the changes, it was your turn to be his rock, after all the times he had been yours. Chris was amazing no matter what he was doing, whether it was sitting in class paying attention to a math problem, or asking for your opinion on his swimming, or just talking to you. He was meant to be amazing.

You don’t realize you’ve been staring at him until. “Are you going to miss me?”

You sigh at his red-rimmed eyes, endeared at his sniffles. “Of course, I am, I care about you a lot, what makes you think I wouldn’t, you better not forget me when you’re all famous. I’m just a bit disappointed we’re going our separate ways, we’ve been through a lot, you’ve been there for me no matter what, I’m grateful for meeting you, Chris.” It takes you a while to realize that you’re tearing up.

“I’m really really going to miss you, Chris. It’s going to be different not swimming with you anymore, not going to the parlor to get ice cream, teasing you for how much you eat, letting me win video games, who’s going to teach me math!? If I weren’t good at swimming the teachers wouldn’t be so patient with me!” You struggle to hold back your tears, deciding to reach up and hide your face in the crevice of his neck and shoulder, squeezing him in reassurance.

Chan fixes his arms around your waist, returning the hug, “We’re going to be fine, so long as that no matter what you do, make sure it comes from here, you’ll be alright, we’ll be alright, you’re stronger than ever. Don’t you ever let anyone take that from you, okay? I have something for you. Can you close your eyes?”

With your eyes shut, you can feel Chan’s hands around your neck, you can feel his soft breathing, and the soft click of a clasp. “You can open them.” You gasp at the sight of the pretty mermaid tail that sat on the crevice of your collar bones.

“You were meant for this Y/n. You radiate and glow when you swim, you’re going to do amazing.” Chan presses a soft kiss into your forehead, a reminder of how much taller he’s grown. “I have something else for you tomorrow, but that’s a surprise for you tomorrow, I’ll give it to you at the airport tomorrow, okay?” He presses another kiss into your cheek, wiping the few tears that had escaped.

Soon enough, you’re on your way back home, the previously comforting silence disrupted by distant yet ear-splitting sirens, you pay it no mind until you notice how it sounds closer as you near your house.

You’re gasping at the sight of the bright blue and red lights, frozen still as you see paramedics roll your mother out of the house. Everything blurs as you’re pushed and ushered here and there, calls of your name passing through the other ear.

As everything goes dark.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

“I’m sure it was just fatigue.” In and out of consciousness, you found it difficult to determine which parts of it were real, and which weren’t.

“Mom?” Fluttering your eyes open, you were surprised to see a bright white interior, contrasting the blue hues of your room in your house.

“Y/n?” Turning towards the voice, you’re met by your nanny’s worried eyes, as she hovers a damp towel to your forehead. “You’re in the hospital dear, you passed out after we fetched you last night, your mother I’m afraid, she doesn’t have much time left.”

“Where is she-” You’re rushing to stand, wincing in pain when you realize that you have an IV attached to you. “Bring me to her.”

The nanny struggles to aid you in your haste, pushing the IV behind your quick steps. Luckily your mother had been in the room next to you, had it been any further your legs would have given up.

The soft hum and consistent beeps of machines echoed throughout your mother’s room; the sharp scent of antiseptics clouded your thinking. Your father stands from the side of her bed, you’re surprised when he meets you at the door, softly telling the nanny to leave as he takes your hand in his, guiding your IV in the process.

He quietly helps you up into your mother’s bed, who’s surprisingly awake, and smiles at the sight of you. You can feel tears well up, your heart heavy as you take in her figure, engraving it to your heart. She still wears the blue and white scarf atop her head, something you had given her after receiving your first allowance as an athlete.

You don’t realize you’re shaking as you reach to caress her cheek, carefully avoiding the wires attached to her. She holds your hand to her cheek, appreciating the warmth you brought. “Hello love, I heard you passed out, are you doing alright?”

You could only nod in response, your chest heavy as tears began to drip into the white sheets of her bed. “Now listen to me love, you are the sun, you are my sun, and I know I haven’t been there that much to show you all the love you deserve, but I do love you. You are the sun that brought me warmth in that cold room of mine, you are the light that beams when you step into the room. Don’t you ever let anyone dim your light.”

She carefully pulls you into her chest, rubbing small patterns into your back, in an attempt to soothe the shaking of your chest. “You’re going to be alright, love, live the life you love, and everything will be alright. Mom loves you so much, you're so amazing you should know that. I might not be a part of your bigger achievements, your ups and downs in life, falling in love, and all that. Though I do hope you find someone, who’d be there until the end, someone to hold your hand in this dark and empty world. Though I want you to remember that you are beyond your medals, I will still love you no matter what you choose to do in life, alright? I will forever be proud to be your mother-” Her voice dwindles as she trails off, her arm dropping from behind your back, as her breath stills in the process.

The room goes up in flames as everything begins to beep loudly, you could do nothing but sob harder as you cling to your dying mother. The next few minutes are a blur, in the chaos, you feel someone pull you from your mother’s chest as the room floods with medical personnel.

It takes you a while to realize that it’s your father who holds you, turning you away from your mother’s figure as you continue to sob, unable to say anything but cry. The word I love you lingers on the tip of your tongue, regret weighing heavily on your chest.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

You hadn’t realized you had passed out once more, eyes adjusting to bright hospital lights as everything feels numb. You’re surprised to see your father passed out on the chair next to your bed, eyes swollen and sunken with everything that had happened.

Feeling a bit parched, you reach for the water bottle that had supposedly been there, but instead, you find a small iPod and some earphones. Chan’s unique penmanship on the iPod catches your eye, intrigued, you reach for it.

Another strike of guilt threatens to pull at your heartstrings, of the realization that you had missed his flight. “The Bangs came by the house to drop that off, they mentioned that Chris had wanted to give you this before his flight.” Your father blinks sleep out of his eyes, stretching before he leaves the room.

It takes you a while to untangle the earphones before you plug them in the iPod with a soft click before you wear them. The small square weighs heavy on your hand as you press play.

“Hello, Y/n!” You jump a bit at the loudness of Chan’s voice quickly adjusting the volume.

“Since that fateful day where you saved me from the bullies, I have forever been in your debt. Kidding! “You roll your eyes amused as he continues talking.

“Well not really, but honestly Y/n you have played a huge role not only in my development as a swimmer but as well as a friend. You had been someone I wanted to protect from all the cruel things in this world, had I not met you I wonder if I would’ve had any friends here.” Says the social butterfly, yeah right Christopher.

“I really wished it hadn’t been this way,” I wish it hadn’t been this way either.

“We had a good run Y/n, I am forever grateful to have met you. Now I don’t have much to say, but in a few minutes, a song will play. It’s a song I made. It's something your mom helped put together. I do hope you enjoy this little gift from us, and please do give her a hug in my stead. I do hope you like this song, and may you continue to shine as you take on the professional world of swimming! With love, Your Bangaroo” With everything that has happened, you don’t really feel disappointed or sad with your best friend’s decision, maybe a bit of regret from the lack of time, but all you could do is hope that time and faith would not be so cruel once more.

Chan’s voice fades out as a soft melody of piano notes begins to play, your heart warms as Chan’s voice begins to sing.

“And take, take her to the moon for me

Take her like you promised me

Say you love her every time like how you told me the last time”

You could understand why your mother had told you that Chan was like your guardian angel. Albeit a bit of an exaggeration for a boy your age, but his soft and giving nature had been your source of comfort and happiness throughout middle school and for that, you will forever be grateful.

“Someday I know we'll meet again

In heaven by the rainbow's end

And I only wish you happiness

Until we meet again”

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

next

[joyful-soul-collector]

🎉Week 3: December 23-31🎉

Ten o’Clock Wake Up Call by @skeeter-110​ (Pt. 10 of Twelve Days of Christmas)

Summary: It's Christmas morning in the Stark-Rhodes' household.

Relationships/Tropes: Ironhusbands, Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Avengers Family, Kid Peter, Christmas

Review:  I loved the big snuggle pile at the end, and how excited Peter was for his dads to open their presents! It showed how even as a little kid, Peter's always cared more about others than he has himself

🎉

Eleven Laps Around The Rink by @skeeter-110​ (Pt. 11 of Twelve Days of Christmas)

Summary: The Stark-Rhodes family goes ice skating with the Avengers

Relationships/Tropes: Ironhusbands, Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Avengers Family, Kid Peter, Ice Skating

Review: I loved how this showed Peter learning to skate, going from holding his parents hands, to skating from Tony to Rhodey, and finally to skating all on his own! Very cute

🎉

Twelve New Months To Look Forward To by @skeeter-110​ (Pt. 12 of Twelve Days of Christmas)

Summary: The Stark-Rhodes' family celebrates the new year.

Relationships/Tropes:  Ironhusbands, Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Kid Peter, New Years Eve

Review: A perfect ending to the sweetest holiday series! It was soft and loving and I'm so happy to have read about this happy little family :D

🎉

The Way I Love You ch. 3 by @littlemissagrafina

Summary: Peter Parker had a vibrant, happy presence. Anytime that he was around became brighter, happier. It was just the way it was. He was always moving, talking, just living, so when the lightness that his loved ones were so accustomed to seeing started fading, it scared them. A still silence built itself around Peter, snuffing out his usual exuberant voice. Dark and stifling. Those around him could only hope it wouldn't consume him. That it wouldn't take his smile. 

Or 

Five times that someone see's Peter struggling and one time he calls for help.

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Uncle Ben & Peter Parker, Aunt May & Peter Parker, Spideychelle, Depressed Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort

Review: This story really shows how sometimes the best way to help someone who's depressed or just having a bad day is to do something small to make things a little easier for them. You often can't get rid of all their worries through a deep heart-to-heart and you certainly can protect them from everything yourself, but doing something small can make a bigger difference than you think

🎉

Peter hides an injury prompt by @jen27ny

Summary: Peter, who already downplays every injury, takes the hint too close and hides a serious injury, and the Avengers learn the hard way why Tony really fusses every time he got hurt

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Avengers Family, Hiding an Injury, Crackfic

Review: Peter hiding his injuries is one of my favorite tropes, and this story did it really well! I love how protective everyone was of Peter by the end, and how they realized Tony wasn't exaggerating when he said they had to make absolutely sure Peter was fine haha

🎉

Peter has ADHD prompt by @jen27ny

Summary: Peter’s ADHD starts to affect his grades

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Peter Parker Has ADHD

Review: This story was so sweet! I myself have ADHD so I love stories about Peter with ADHD and this one was great! I relate to Peter in that I sucked at Spanish, I've always dreaded going to that class haha. Very nice story!

🎉

The Perfect Name by @honestmischief

Summary: Rhodey and Tony are drunk and in love

Relationships/Tropes: Ironhusbands, Drunk

Review: This ficlet was adorable! I loved how affectionate Tony and Rhodey were with each other, and how Rhodey said Tony was "too cute to be sad", it was so cute

🎉

Christmas Pranks by @skeeter-110

Summary: Tony wraps up random things for little Peter to open while Steve records it all

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Stony, Papa Steve, Christmas, Pranks, Kid Peter

Review:  THIS WAS SO ADORABLE! I can't get enough of Cute Kid Peter, and this had to have been Cute Kid Peter overload honestly, I think I got cavities from the amount of fluff in this little drabble. Very worth it, excuse me, I have a trip to the dentist I need to make

🎉

Peter Calls Tony Dad (B99 Style) by @jen27ny

Summary: Pretty much exactly what the title says

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Avengers Family, Peter Calls Tony Dad

Review: This story was HILARIOUS, I loved that moment in B99, and this fic emulated the silliness and teasing perfectly, and the bit about them going to fix the video game was great! I loved this!

🎉

santa, come again by @jean-and-diet-coke

Summary: Christmas morning with the Starks!

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Rhodey & Tony, Rhodey & Peter, Bio Dad Tony, Christmas

Review:  This story was super adorable! I loved seeing how affectionate the three of them were with each other, and the softness of the story was perfect for the christmas season! I loved seeing both Tony and Rhodey be so gentle with Peter, and Peter being a sweet babbly child in return!

🎉

“Aces come out of the deck” by Miss__Red 

Summary: “I’m ace,“ he blurred out, avoiding to look at Wade and staring down on his plate instead. “I’m sorry, if that’s a deal breaker for you and you wanna leave that’s okay, I understand,” Peter said quietly.

Or the one where Peter tells Wade he’s asexual and Wade is not reacting like Peter thought he would

Relationships/Tropes: Spideypool, Asexual Peter Parker, Pansexual Wade Wilson, Coming Out, Soft Wade Wilson

Review: This story was so so nice to read, actually made me cry a little. I love stories where characters are accepting of someone's asexuality and this is definitely added to one of my favorites. Super cute and super sweet

🎉

“My Own ‘Spidey Sense’ Was Tingling” by @baloobird (Pt. 2 of The New Normal)

Summary: It has been a year since Peter Parker was diagnosed with Pediatric Multiple Sclerosis and he—like everyone with this disease—has to get an MRI scan done every year so the doctors can monitor his condition.

The scan itself is tedious but he’s used to it, it’s not his first one by any means. Peter knows what to expect, how loud it’ll be, how long it takes.

But this is the first scan where he’ll be completely by himself.

(Might be best to read the first story before this one)

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Uncle Happy, Sickfic, Chronic Illness, Neurological Disorders

Review:  Another great story about MS by @baloobird! This story was really well written, and I liked how Peter's anxiety over the MRI scan was shown and described, and I loved seeing Peter's thoughts about everything that happened! Very sweet story :D

🎉

50 Christmas Ornaments My True Love Gave To Me by @joyful-soul-collector (Pt. 10 of Irondad Oneshots)

Summary: It was Christmastime in the Stark-Rhodes-Potts’ household, with Tony, Rhodey, Pepper, Peter, and Morgan all sitting at the table. Jingle Bells was playing quietly in the background, and each one of them was working on decorating a clear plastic christmas bauble, a growing pile of colorful ornaments in the center of the table.

OR

The Iron Family gets carried away making Christmas ornaments, and Peter talks to his dad about asexuality

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Mom Pepper, Peter & Morgan, Pepperhony (Pepper/Rhodey/Tony), Christmas, Asexual Peter Parker, Asexual Tony Stark, Bisexual Pepper Potts, Pansexual James “Rhodey” Rhodes, Polyamorous Relationship

Review: Yes, this is my own fic and I’m recommending it because I like it, and I worked hard on it haha. Anyway I like the amount of representation I put in this one, I remember starting this and being like “should I have Tony with Pepper or Rhodey?” and then decided fuck it, why not both? Both is good :D

🎉

If you look at any these stories, be sure to show the author your appreciation with a comment/kudos/reblog where applicable!

Click here for more fanfic rec lists!

[myhauntedsalem]

23 Parents Describe Their Kids’ Creepy Imaginary Friends

1. He doesn’t have a face

“My son from the age of three always tells me about the ‘creeper man’ who lives in my mom and dad’s bedroom. He brings it up after he visits them. I made the mistake once of asking what he looks like. My son said ‘Oh, he doesn’t have a face.’”

2. “You’ll get used to killing”

“A parent of one of my students told us in a meeting that she was concerned because her son (7 years old) talked about an invisible ghost who would talk to him and play with him in his room. He said the ghost was called The Captain and was an old white guy with a beard. The kid would tell his mom that The Captain told him when he grows up his job will be to kill people, and The Captain would tell him who needed to be killed. The kid would cry and say he doesn’t want to kill when he grows up, but The Captain tells him he doesn’t have a choice and he’ll get used to killing after a while.”

3. Little girl ghost

“When my daughter was three she had an imaginary friend named Kelly who lived in her closet. Kelly sat in a little rocking chair while she slept, played with her, etc. Typical imaginary friend shit. Anyway, fast forward two years later, the wife and I are watching the new Amityville Horror (the one with Ryan Renolds) and our daughter walks out right when the dead girl goes all black eyed. Far from being disturbed she said ‘That looks like Kelly.’ ‘Kelly who?’ we say. ‘You know the dead girl that lived in my closet.’”

4. Bad rabbit

“My cousin, when she was 5, and I was 17, had a stuffed rabbit that she talked to and carried everywhere. One day she was asleep on the couch while I was watching her, and she woke up and started yelling at her rabbit for no reason. One minute she was knocked out, the next, she’s awake, glaring at her rabbit, yelling, ‘No! You can’t do that! That’s bad! Don’t do it!’ I asked her what was wrong, tried to get her to stop, but she wouldn’t listen. I finally just took the rabbit up to her room, and when I came back down she was asleep on the couch again. Fuck whatever that rabbit was planning on doing.”

5. Roger won’t be around anymore…

“My little brother’s imaginary friend, Roger, lived under our coffee table. Roger had a wife and nine kids. Roger and his family lived peacefully alongside us for three years. One day, my little brother announced that Roger wouldn’t be around anymore, since he shot and killed him and his whole family. I don’t know if he remembers any of this, but his genuine lack of remorse was very disturbing.”

6. A boy in the tree

“My folks’ farm surrounds a cemetery, and my dad and my niece were walking down there. My niece (4) looks up and says, ‘What’s that boy doing up in that tree?’ There was no boy, but she insisted there was and could describe him.”

7. The bunny man

“When I was 16, I babysat twins who were in the third grade at the time. They always spoke of a man in an Easter Bunny costume, and they were terrified of him. One day I was babysitting, and one twin was in the shower. His brother and I were sitting downstairs watching television when all of the sudden, he said, ‘You need to go check on Matt.’ Seconds later, Matt yelled, ‘He’s in here!!! He’s in here!!!’ I ran upstairs, and I had to check every room before he would calm down. I’m not sure which part of the experience freaked me out the most.”

8. Poor Shaggy

When my mom was younger she had an imaginary friend named Shaggy. When she was finished with Shaggy, she ‘chopped him up and put him in the fridge.’”

9. “Smash Daddy’s head”

“When my brother was just learning how to talk he grabbed one of those small toy hammers and crawled onto the sofa where my dad was sleeping. He then leant in close and whispered one of his first sentences… ‘Smash daddy’s head’ right into his ear.”

10. Dark angels

When my brother was little he acted like he had angels talking to him every second. One day my mom overheard him say, ‘I can’t kill him! He’s my only dad!’”

11. “That’s the man”

“My daughter used to tell me about a man who came into her room every night and put the sign of the cross on her forehead. I thought it was just a dream. Then my mother-in-law sent over some family photos. My daughter looked right at the picture of my husband’s father (who has been dead for 16 years) and said ‘That’s the man who comes into my room at night!’ My husband later told me his father would always do the sign of the cross on his forehead when he was young.”

12. Message from beyond

“My wife and I overheard my two-year-old daughter on the baby monitor wake up on Saturday morning and say, ‘What? OK I’ll tell her.’ She then got up, came into our bedroom, and told my wife, ‘Mary says you’re doing a good job.’ Mary was her grandmother that she was extremely close to that passed away.”

13. I called him Spooky Guy

“As a kid, I said that my imaginary friend was a ghost. I called him Spooky Guy and said he died in the garage of the house on the hill behind ours. I even came up with his death. He was a 16 year old who got in a car crash and walked to that house to ask to use their phone (died in the 70’s). The person lived there grabbed him and sexually abused him there and killed him. He was my imaginary friend as far back as I can remember. This scared my mom so much that she tried to look up records to see if that happened and got me a therapist.”

14. Icy wants me to tell you it will be tonight

“In high school one of my best friends had a little sister who was five or six years old. One day we stopped by his place, completely high, because he needed to get his Magic cards. While waiting for him to come downstairs his sister came up to me and said, ‘Icy told me to ask you if you know when you’re going to die.’”

I laughed nervously: morbid question, right? But I knew all about Icy, her imaginary friend. I even helped her draw a picture of him once. So I played along and said, ‘No, of course not! No one knows that. Hopefully when I’m very old.’

The girl shook her head sadly and said, ‘No, Icy wants me to tell you it’ll be tonight.’ And with that, she just walked away.”

15. It is the punishment

“I was seventeen and babysitting a friend of the family’s six-year-old boy. He’d been in bed a couple of hours and I just peeked in to check on him. He wasn’t in the bed and when I opened the door, I saw he was standing in the corner, facing the wall. creepiest fucking thing ever. I asked him what he was doing and all he did was turn around, smile, and put his finger to his lips as if to say ‘shhh.’ I asked him again what he was doing and all he says is, ‘Leave us. It is the punishment.’”

16. Keep kicking

“My grandfather had a camp on Lake Dering in New Hampshire when I was a kid. One day when I was 6 or so, I fell off of the dock and into the water. I couldn’t swim. While under, I distinctly remember seeing a little girl down there who told me to look up towards the sun and just keep kicking and I’d be fine. I swam to the surface just in time for my grandfather to swoop me up and pull me back on the dock.”

17. Nope

“When my boy was 4, his imaginary friend would sit in the corner of the room when you switched off the lights and light the room with red glowing eyes.”

18. They were both dead

“Kid I used to babysit had imaginary friends. They were dead. One had no head. One was an old lady. They were both bloody. The one with no head had insides sticking out of his neck.

I didn’t ask him questions about them because fuck that.”

19. Tracy

“When my niece was about 4 she had an imaginary friend, which I don’t remember the name of. She would blame things she did on this imaginary friend but also talked about how this friend would watch Scooby Doo with her. One day I thought, ‘Why don’t I find out more about this friend?’ So I asked her to tell me about her friend. And she said, ‘She’s a she and she’s dead.’ And I said, ‘Does she have a job?’ And she said, ‘She does what my daddy does!’ Which is that her imaginary friend was a cop. So then I said, ‘Where is your imaginary friend a police woman at?’ And she said, ‘Right next I to where my daddy is a policeman.’ But then she said, ‘I met her when I was in my mummy’s belly. She touched it when I was inside.’

A few months before my niece was born my cousin Tracy had died. She was hit by a train. She loved watching Scooby Doo and had a ton of memorabilia. She was also a cop. She was a cop in the town that is right next to the one my brother-in-law is a cop in, my niece’s ‘daddy.’ My niece’s imaginary friend was my dead cousin. There is no other way she could have known all that at the age of 4.”

20. “That’s why I don’t like water now”

“When my kid was 4, we were watching a documentary on the Titanic. The scene was a picture of the schematics of the boiler room and the camera panned from left to right over the plans. He pointed at the TV and said, ‘That’s wrong. The boilers were on the other side. And I was right here.’ And he pointed to a small space in the boiler room. ‘That’s where I was. And that’s why I don’t like water now.’”

21. Emily

“When my sister was probably about 6 or 7, she had an imaginary friend named Emily. She told us Emily lived in her closet, wore an old black dress, and had long dark hair and she was the same age as my sister. My sister played with Emily constantly. My parents started noticing my sister acting weird. Just sitting in the middle of her room whispering to Emily quite a bit and acting a lot more distant towards them. I remember a very specific day, my brother was walking by her room and my sister was sitting in the middle of her room….but she turned around and hissed at him. He was scared shitless. He told me it didn’t even look like my sister. My parents ran up to her room and I could hear my sister just screaming and screaming.”

“I have no idea what happened in that room but I ran to the bottom of my stairs and the screaming stopped, I saw my parents holding my sister crying their eyes out, she was sobbing as well. I’ve asked her about it today. She’s 24 now. She told me that Emily used to tell her to do horrible things to herself. She actually used to wake up on the roof and not remember how she got there. I’m not kidding. Apparently Emily absolutely hated my parents so she turned my sister against them. She hates talking about it so I never brought up that specific night. This all happened at my old house. When we moved into a different house, Emily was gone. I’m not making any of this up. My sisters little friend was a really big deal to my family and messed things up for a long time. I’m just relieved we left that house.”

22. She floated above his bed at night

“When my younger brother was around 4, he had an imaginary friend named Victoria Meadowbrooke. He told us that she was the prettiest girl ever and she floated above his bed a night.”

23. “The Evil is coming”

“When my older daughter was two or three, she used to have a couple of imaginary friends, Dodo and DeeDee. They were typical imaginary friends. She would talk to them and play with them, and tell me about their lives.

Then one day, when she was about three, she was talking on her play phone when I walked into the room. She hung up her phone and said to me (with a completely flat voice and deadpan expression): ‘The Evil is coming.’”

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

Whatever It Takes

Sebastian’s daughter spends half the time with him and half with her step-mother. Her step-dad goes too far, causing her to run back to her father.

A/N: I ended up combining two requests with this since they were both such good ideas! I hope both of them love it! 

-

           “Please don’t make me go,” you begged your dad as he looked through the apartment to make sure you weren’t leaving anything. “I hate it there.” He, of course, thought you were bluffing. He knew your mom wasn’t the best, but he had full confidence in her as a mother, at least. And he’d seen the house she lived in. It was fine. But he didn’t see how things really were.

           “You have to. It’s what…” He sat down on the arm of the couch.

           “What the court says, I know. But I’m old enough to decide for myself, and I wanna stay with you. Please?” You didn’t know how bad things would have to get for him to let you stay. He was your best friend, and you’d already bent the rules to be able to spend most of the summer with him. But today you absolutely had to go back before your mother threw a colossal fit.

           “You know I wouldn’t let you go unless I absolutely have to, and I absolutely have to. Unless you want to petition the court, there’s no way around it. You have to spend half the time there, it’s what we agreed on.”

           “Yeah, when I was five! Before everything hit the fan!” As soon as your mother had divorced Sebastian, she’d moved in with some crazy guy in his mansion in the Hamptons. And the guy treated you like absolute shit, so your mom did too. They bought you off their backs; every time you threatened to tell the court something, another Louis Vuitton headed your way. You were sick of it, and you were ready to make your own decision and decide to stay with your dad. He was an actor, and he was gone between Atlanta and California and New York, but at least he loved you. You knew he loved you, unlike your mother. Your mother loved the image of a perfect family, even if on the inside it was every kind of abuse but physical. You didn’t want to worry your dad unless you absolutely had to tell him, so you kept your mouth shut.

           “Things didn’t hit the fan, your mom married an asshole and now you don’t want to be there. I get it. Really. But we’ve been over this time and time again, sweetheart. You have to. Unless you have evidence that something’s wrong, they’re not going to change it now. And they already hate me because I’m an actor, because apparently that means I’m not stable.” You knew that wasn’t true. He was the most mentally stable person you knew. You could tell he was at his wit’s end, but you wanted to keep pushing. You wanted to stay. Any bad day with your dad was better than a good day with your mom.

           “Fine,” you said softly. You tried to hide the fact that you were about to cry. You really didn’t want to leave. You had left in the middle of a fight and you knew things were going to be even worse when you came back, especially if you told them that your dad had taken you to California with him without asking them first.

           “I love you,” he said as he stood up, noticing that you were visibly upset. “You know that. I’ll call the lawyers again and see what they say. It’s been a few years since anything happened, so maybe they’d be willing to hear you out. But don’t get your hopes up, okay?” You nodded and hugged him tightly, trying to regain control of your breathing before it got worse.

           “Okay.”

           “I’ll help you load up.” One by one, you got your bags in the overly luxurious SUV your mother had bought you, and before you knew it he was handing you a twenty for something to eat along the way. “Please get real food and not just iced coffee,” he insisted. You got into the driver’s seat and smiled. At least he knew enough about you to know that was your plan.

           “Only because you asked nicely.”

           “Drive safe, babe, okay?” You nodded and started the car, checking the blind spot monitor before driving off toward the highway. You spent most of the time in the car making an internal list of all of the terrible things your mother had done, even though you knew it wouldn’t be enough and you would never care to write it down.

           You settled with cruise control for most of the drive, even though it was a bumpy road back to East Hampton, and finally pulled into the perfectly landscaped driveway of your step-dad’s mansion. There weren’t any other cars in the driveway, so you assumed your mom was off shopping, as usual, and your step-dad was probably cheating on her because that was just how things worked. You were only half joking when you thought about it.

           “Hello?” You called when you reached the house, just to make sure. You strained your neck to look up to the balcony, the huge chandelier reflecting in the bright sunlight. No one was home, except maybe one of the housekeepers. You took your things up the elevator, because the house was just that crazy, and settled back into your room. Your room there was gorgeous. Blair Waldorf would be jealous of it. But it wasn’t you. You and your dad had painted all of the furniture in your room at his house, together, and you’d picked everything out until you had to leave. Your dad had finished the room, too, and he knew you so well that it was perfect. You loved it. You hated this room. What a problem, right? Sheets getting changed every day, a private closet full of designer clothes… What a terrible life it was. That was how they reeled you in; if things looked good on the outside, it meant that nobody would dare look on the inside. It was a dollhouse. A shitty, expensive dollhouse.

           You spent most of the afternoon unpacking everything and changing out of the clothes your mother hated seeing you in. Instead you changed into an uncomfortable but put together outfit and waited. You were unpacking your makeup, thinking about seeing if one of your friends wanted to go to the beach later, when your door blew open. It was your mother, fresh from a shopping trip.

           “I see you’re back,” she responded. “How was it?”

           “Great,” you said. “How is everything here?” Your mother shrugged.

           “It’s the Hamptons. Roger is having some friends over tonight, so don’t ruin things for us.” You internally rolled your eyes. “That means…”

           “Stay in my room,” you interrupted. “I know.” That was another thing – your mom and step-dad wanted you out of their way as much as possible. That meant being all but locked in your room when guests came over. It was like you didn’t even exist. That was another difference – your dad couldn’t wait to show you off, especially because you were interested in film.

           You did what she said. You stayed in your room, thankful that you kept snacks up there, and watched TV for most of the night until everybody left. You could tell that they were ridiculously drunk, but that wasn’t new. You wanted out of there, once and for all, and just in case someone tried anything, you set your phone to record sound before putting it in the pocket of your sweatshirt. You walked down the stairs, seeing the cleaning staff working in the kitchen, and made a beeline for it. Before you could get there, though, your step-dad grabbed onto your arm.

           “You’re back, I see,” he said. He was too close for comfort and you tried to wrestle your arm away, but you couldn’t. He was too strong. You could feel a bruise forming on your arm. That would be a fantastic picture.

           “Yeah,” you replied.

           “Thank you for not making any noise earlier. This was too important to have you mess up.” You knew he was just being an ass, but it hurt. Were you really that bad?

           “Yeah, whatever. I’m going to bed.” You started to walk, but he didn’t let go. “Can you let go of me?” He did what you asked, finally, and when you pulled your arm away there was a bruise on it. You hoped it would fade, but not before you took pictures of it. Maybe them being like this was a blessing in disguise. Still, though. They’d never gone so far as to put a hand on you.

           You were careful in the coming week. Beyond careful. You slipped in and out, minded your own business, and made yourself as scarce as possible. But they had a rule that you had to come home each night, so you did. As soon as the town curfew kicked in, you were home. They always found a reason to come to your room, whether it was lecturing you about leaving your car in the wrong spot in the driveway or taking the wrong towel out to the pool. And your step-dad kept getting more and more violent. As soon as one bruise would fade, another would start on your arm or your shoulder from him just grabbing onto you too hard. Of course your mom wouldn’t do anything about it. She only looked out for herself. You didn’t want to worry your dad, so you just pretended like everything was okay.

           “I’m glad things are going well,” he said over the phone one night. “Maybe they just needed some time.”

           “Yeah,” you responded. You were being fake as hell and you prayed that he didn’t notice it. You were also trying not to cry. That night had been a bad one; they’d had guests over without telling you and you’d gone down the stairs. You had another bruise on your wrist, and this time there was a fingernail mark, too.

           “Listen, I gotta go, I’m meeting up with some people for a dinner meeting.”

           “Okay.” You felt stupid, but you didn’t want to let him go. Your eyes filled to the brim with tears. You just wanted him. “I love you.”

           “I love you too, sweetie.” You hung up the phone and crawled back into bed, letting the tears roll down your cheeks. You wanted to go home. You had friends, sure, but you felt so lonely in that huge house with people who hated you. You were sure your mom and step-dad wouldn’t even care if you left. You wanted to test it, but you were scared. You let yourself cry a little more, just to get everything out, and decided to watch TV until you felt a little better. You wanted to watch LOST, the show you and your dad had been watching all summer together, but you didn’t want to watch it without him.

           It was late before you finally went down to the kitchen again, bare-footed so your feet wouldn’t make much noise, and tried to get some water. Unfortunately, you weren’t the only one with the idea. Your step dad was sitting there, at the table, drinking. As always. He was draining a bottle of rum that probably cost more than your car did.

           “Well, well, well,” he said. “Haven’t seen you the past few days.” That was right. Because you were avoiding him.

           “Yeah,” you tried to hide it with a shrug as you reached for a glass. The last bruise he’d left had disappeared, and hopefully it wouldn’t be replaced. “Haven’t been feeling well. I think I’m getting sick or something.” Your step-dad smirked.

           “Sure you are. Or maybe you just don’t want to see us. You want to run off with your real daddy, I know that, but you could at least try to be a part of this family.” Your eyes were filling up just as quickly as your glass was with ice. You switched it over to the water. You had a bad feeling in your stomach.

           “Okay,” you responded calmly. “I’ll try and make a better effort. I’m sorry.” He walked up to you then, like he always did, but he didn’t do anything. Not at first.

           “Sorry for what? Being such a little bitch all the time?” That was crossing a line. He’d never called you that, not to your face. You were always just the brat to him. Not bitch. You wanted to end the conversation. Fight or flight kicked in and you wanted to run away. Maybe you could take the back staircase. It was quicker, and you could lock your room so he couldn’t get in. You were frozen in fear, breathing heavily, about to start crying again like the little kid you were. He grabbed your arm, for real this time, and you noticed that you were shaking. This was going to leave a darker bruise than normal, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to see you upset.

           “That’s what I thought. Cry-baby. Go run off, see if we care. We’ll get full custody, anyway.” So you decided that’s what you would do. You walked away, noticing that he didn’t follow you, and he probably didn’t think you were serious. He was probably thinking you were going upstairs to cry, which you were. But you were going to pack, too.

           You packed as many of your clothes as you could get in a suitcase, a full backpack with your laptop in it, and the few pictures you knew you would want. You threw your makeup bag into another bag and started cleaning up the room. By the time you made up the bed and cleared the closet out, it was like no one even lived there. You went out to the balcony. He was in bed. Your mom had gone to bed long ago. So you lifted up your suitcase and brought it down to the entry hallway. It was pouring rain outside, but you didn’t care. You had to get out of there, fast. You started your car with your phone, turning the lights off so you wouldn’t be seen from their window, and loaded everything back into the car. The time to drive back to the city was two hours normally, but you could cut it down. It was nearly three in the morning, you knew that, but you had to get out of there. The last thing you did was leave the house key on the kitchen table, along with the two credit cards they gave you that you almost never used.

           You must have looked like a mess to anyone driving alongside you – you were still in your pajamas and a wet raincoat, your car was packed full, and you were crying. But you hit traffic at the bridge and, by the time you pulled into your dad’s garage, you could tell that the kitchen light was on. He was awake. You shut the car off and took your phone with you, walking up the stairs to the first floor.

           Your dad was standing there, making one of those protein shakes he always drank. He looked like he was about to go for a run. He looked over at you as you entered, eyes wide, and shut off the blender he was using.

           “You’re supposed to be at your mom’s!” He said.

           “I had to get out of there. I can’t stay there,” you explained. “I have it recorded, but I had to get out. Please just let me stay.”

           “Hold on, hold on, you drove here in the middle of the night by yourself?” You nodded. “Do they know?”

           “No.”

           “Jesus, Y/n. I need to call the lawyers right now. Do you know what you just did?” You took off your rain jacket, letting it fall to the floor, and held out your arm. The bruise was dark purple and clear as day. “Did he do that to you?”

           “Yes. I have all of the pictures and I recorded all of our conversations. I’m sorry I came here without telling you but I had to get out of there.” You could see the rage burning in his eyes, but it wasn’t for you. The first thing he did was wrap you in a hug, tightly, and that was enough. You let yourself start crying, again, just because you were so relieved. Nothing could hurt you here. Not your mom, not your step-dad.

           “I need to call the lawyers. Go un-pack for me and we’ll figure this out, okay, honey?” He rubbed your back for a second as you prepared to pull away from him. You went to go unpack your bags and your dad started calling everyone he knew to call. You doubted they would even care that you were gone, but you definitely didn’t want to cause a media frenzy that would make your dad look bad. That was the absolute last thing you wanted to do was screw him over. Finally, the calls were all over and your dad walked into your room. You’d taken a shower and changed clothes by then, warming up from the cold rain. You’d driven with your air on full blast the entire time without even realizing it.

           “Hey,” he said. “I called the lawyer. They’re sending some police and CPS over to talk things through, but it looks like I can get full custody at least temporarily. You might have to go to court for it, but…”

           “I don’t want to. I just want out of there.” He sat down beside you on the bed, pulling you in.

           “I know you don’t want to. And it’ll be hard. But they hurt you. Multiple times. And you literally have all of the proof you need on your phone. They’re not gonna hurt you again, I won’t let them. Whatever it takes.” You nodded, sniffling a little. You were such a crybaby. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it before.”

           “Nobody did. He never started acting like that until I got back.” He ran a hand through your hair.

           “It’s over now, okay? You’re home with me.” You were resting your head in his shoulder when there was a knock at the front door, followed by the shout that it was police. He offered you a hand and you took it, like you always did, and walked down the stairs.

[zebrabaker]

Choosing Destiny; Part 3

Here we go!

Raven followed Vil down the halls of the dorms, trying to ignore the stares of those around her. There were dozens of boys lining the halls, peaking out of various rooms, staring at her and whispering to each other. There must have been at least a hundred of them, all staring at her like she was…interesting. This was so weird. Less than four hours ago, she had been the most hated person at school, now she was the interesting new girl.

“Raven, dear, are you okay? You look rather stunned.” Vil asked, setting a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m fine! Just a little overwhelmed.” She answered, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m only ever the center of attention when it’s bad.”

“That’s nonsense, mademoiselle. Here, you’ll be treated far better than that.” Rook smiled, ruffling her hair a little, making her giggle.

“Rook! Her hair was perfect!” Vil snapped, hands flying to fix Raven’s hair. Raven suddenly froze, grabbing a random lock of hair and pulling it in front of her face, before groaning.

“My magic wore off!” She huffed, letting the hair fall.

“What do you mean?” Epel asked.

“I usually use magic to keep a small glamour over my hair, adding in purple streaks. It makes me look more like my mom. Without it, I get confused for a Royal.”

“But…you are royalty.” Epel pointed out.

“Not Royalty, a Royal. Ever After was divided by civil war for a few years when I was young. The first faction was the Royals, typically Princesses and Prince Charmings, or those who got happy endings. They were led by Snow White and her husband, James Charming. Then, there were the Rebels, monsters, beasts, witches, and other villainous beings. They, well, they were led by my Mom. As is, I don’t look much like previous Evil Queens, I look more like a Royal, even a Princess Charming if you push. Hence the heels, and the glamour and makeup.” Vil hummed to confirm he was listening around a mouthful of bobby pins as he quickly braided her hair back.

“So, wait, your mom led a civil war?” Rook asked. “What was she fighting for?”

“Huh? I…I don’t know. After the Rebels lost, my Mom was locked away for good, and everyone was forbidden from even mentioning the war. We don’t even learn about it in school much. It’s seriously taboo to talk about it. My visits with Mom were all heavily monitored so that I wouldn’t accidentally let her out of the mirror dimension, so I never got to ask about it. She just said that she hoped I would follow in her footsteps.” Fiddling with the end of her braid once Vil was done, Raven frowned a bit. It had always bothered her, never knowing why her mother was serving a life sentence.

“Well, now is not the time for such heavy matters. We have an audience waiting on you, and Headmaster Crowley has called a meeting for all Dorm Leaders tomorrow morning, and has requested your attendance.”

“Okay. Um, before we begin, how many people are going to be asking me questions?” She asked, biting her lip.

“Oh, only about one hundred eighty!” Vil cheered, steering her by the shoulder into the main room from earlier. Raven gulped. This was so not what she had planned for today!

X0X0X

Raven had been seated in a plush plum-colored armchair in the center of the room, opposite the fireplace. Everyone was gathered around her, making her feel painfully claustrophobic.

“So, where are you from, Princess?” One voice asked from the back of the crowd.

“Well, my Dad rules the Good Kingdom, so I grew up in the palace. It’s technically split in half between Mom and Dad. I was raised mainly by servants, since Dad wasn’t too happy with his destiny, and Mom was locked away. I learned a lot of valuable skills though. I can cook, clean up after myself, I can balance a budget, and my Nanny taught me to play guitar and a few other instruments.”

“Could you play for us, Princess?” One of the boys near the front asked.

“An excellent idea!” Rook cheered.

“I…I guess? I should be able to summon my guitar if you’ll all give me a minute.” Raven stammered, cheeks and ears stained red with blush.

“Only if you don’t mind, mademoiselle,” Rook assured her, setting a hand on her shoulder.

“Not at all, I don’t get to play much, so this will be nice!” Raven patted his hand, before closing her eyes. What Raven did not see, however, was the vivid purple aura surrounding her as she murmured in the ancient tongue her mother had taught her. The purple aura around her began to condense into a tight mist, before taking the shape of a guitar. With a loud popping of displaced air, a plain purple guitar appeared in her lap. There was a floral pattern painted around the hole, which looked to be done in shades of silver and grey.

“It worked!” Raven cheered, running her hands down the strings. “What do you guys want to hear?” She asked, looking at the crowd. Sadly, she got no answer, as the entire crowd was captivated by the way her lavender eyes sparkled with happiness in the light.

“Why not play your favorite song, Princess?” One of the boys who helped her earlier asked.

“Okay!” Raven chirped and began to tune the instrument. “This is one my Mom used to sing to me each night, before she was sent away. Sorry if I’m not very good.”

“I’m sure you sound lovely, Raven,” Vil assured. Raven shrugged, before beginning to play.

“Where the Northwind…meets the sea~.” Raven’s voice was…enchanting, high and sweet and pure. “There’s a river, full of memory. Sleep my darling, safe and sound. For in this river, all is found. When all is lost, all is found~.” The whole dorm was silent, staring at the tiny angel whose voice seemed to come from heaven itself. As her song wound down, she seemed to come out of a trance. “Where the north wind meets the sea, there’s a mother, full of memory. Come, my darling, homeward bound. Where all is lost, then all is found. All is found, all is found…” Raven, who had kept her eyes closed as she sang, slowly opened her eyes.

“Raven, that was most wondrous!” Rook cheered, clapping wildly.

“Rook is quite right, dear. I simply must record you playing for my MagiCam sometime.”

“I will not lie to you; I have no idea what that is.” Raven giggled. “So, Vil said you guys had questions for me?” She set the guitar aside, folding her hands in her lap and smiling at the crowd.

“How did you get here?” A redhead asked.

“Ah, I was practicing my magic and got scared…something went wrong, and I wound up in the woods here. I was wandering for hours when I found the school, and Rook helped me to the nurse. After that, headmaster Crowley said…something about enrolling me? He had me sorted, and then called Epel here to escort me to the dorms. Honestly, it’s been an intense few hours!”

X0X0X

As Raven fielded questions, Epel kept a close eye on her. She was being nothing less than the epitome of polite, answering all the questions she was asked, but her shoulders were starting to slump.

“So, Princess, do you have a boyfriend?” One of the boys further back called. Raven suddenly went a deep red.

“Or a girlfriend?” One closer to the front added.

“No! The one guy I kinda like is…not interested in me. He would never be.” Raven smiled in a melancholy way.

“What? Dear, you’re royalty!” Vil gasped, clutching his throat like a lady of old England.

“I’m also the daughter of the Rebel leader, Vil, and he’s expected to be the next Prince Charming, as in the guy who marries Snow White. Not exactly an ideal relationship.” Raven sighed a bit. “Anyway, anyone else have questions?” Several hands shot into the air, making Raven giggle.

“Vil, hey!” Epel whispered, tugging on the taller boy’s sleeve a little. Vil raised an eyebrow at him, keeping his attention on their resident royal. “Raven looks pretty tired, and she’s had a long day. We need to make sure she gets her beauty sleep, right?” Vil tensed at the magic words.

“Alright, that’s plenty of questions for now! You can all get to know Raven later; she needs her sleep.” There was a collection of disappointed groans, but everyone slowly bid Raven goodnight, trickling out of the common room in clumps and batches.

“Thanks, Vil. I was starting to get pretty tired.”

“Of course, dear. You will, of course, be joining me for my evening skincare routine. I create my cosmetics and skincare products, so they’re top of the line. Epel, Rook, go make sure that Raven’s room is completely ready.” Both boys nodded and walked off, leaving Vil to lead Raven to his bathroom.

X0X0X

Vil eyed Raven as he gently scrubbed off his makeup. She was eyeing his array of skincare products with great interest, and yet there was a wary air about her. Going through the steps, he explained the ingredients of each product, along with their general purpose.

“-and this one contains apple extract; its purpose is to serve as a sunblock of kinds.”

“I…can’t use that one,” Raven muttered, burying her face behind a curtain of her hair.

“But Raven, you’re so pale! It cannot be safe for your skin to be out in the sun, exposed to the light.” Vil tutted, crossing his arms.

“It…it’s stupid, but I’m allergic to apples. Just the skin makes me go into anaphylactic shock, I can’t be anywhere near them. Like I said, stupid. Who’s ever heard of the evil queen not being able to handle apples?” Raven chuckled a bit, but Vil could see in her eyes that this deeply bothered her.

“Well, in the traditional tale, the one I was taught, the queen tried a myriad of ways to dispose of Snow White, like a cursed comb or an enchanted corset. Besides, you said you didn’t sign the book, so there’s no point in fretting.” Vil shrugged, handing Raven a face cloth. “If you can’t use that one,” Vil made a mental note to dispose of the bottle later. He was responsible for this sweet girl, accidentally sending her into shock would be terrible. “then try this. Cucumbers and pomegranate juice. Works wonders.” Yes, Vil was determined to protect this girl.

Once they had both cleaned their faces and applied a variety of things that Raven was very confused by (Vil had looked like a ghost when she said she usually just used soap and water to wash her face) Vil had asked her to wait in the hall while he checked his room for something. He stepped back out a moment later, holding a bundle of shimmery cloth in both hands. “I want you to have this, dear. It’s my back-up robe. We typically eat breakfast as a dorm in our pajamas, but it isn’t appropriate for a young lady, especially a princess, to be seen in her pajamas. Speaking of, do you have appropriate sleep clothes?”

“I can just change this into something, don’t worry!” Vil paused, before sighing.

“If you insist. Good night, Raven dear.”

“Good night, Vil!” Raven chirped, making an about-face and walking to her room, closing the door and leaning back against it with a sigh. Summoning her guitar had taken a lot out of her. It was a complicated spell normally, but with the odd barrier between here and Ever After, it had nearly knocked the wind out of her. Not to mention the endless questions, she honestly didn’t understand! She wasn’t special, she was a villain! Even Dad had been wary of her most of her life! Summoning the dregs of her magic with a sigh, Raven switched her transfigured dress into a comfortable set of sleep pants and a tank top in a shade of teal that made her desperately miss Maddie. Throwing the robe Vil had given her (it was lovely, a rich purple with gold patterning and a large gold sash) over the back of a chair, she slumped over to the bed and collapsed onto it, groaning at how soft it was. This had certainly been one hell of a day.

X0X0X

The knock at the door came far too early. Groaning, Raven dragged a pillow over her head and rolled over, effectively tangling herself in the comforter.

“Mademoiselle Raven, breakfast is ready!” Rook (he was the only one with a habit of speaking French, oddly enough) called through the door. “Vil also needs to escort you to the dorm leader meeting today, so you won’t have much time for breakfast.”

“Just two minutes and I’ll be out!” She called back, sitting up with a silent huff.

“Alright! Vil had me bring you a basket of shower things, I’ll leave it out here for you.”

“Thanks a million, Rook.” Raven slowly swung her legs over the edge of the bed, shivering when the cool floor came in contact with her feet. Thinking fast, she transfigured a random dust bunny she spotted from the corner of her eye into a pair of slippers that matched her pajamas. Grabbing the robe from the chair at the last second, Raven swung it over her shoulders, tying the sash as she made her way to the door. Upon opening the door, the first thing to catch her attention was the basket of bottles set on the floor. There were three bottles and a few washcloths, along with two large fluffy looking towels, a toothbrush in a sealed bag, and a container of toothpaste. On closer inspection, the bottles, which contained a pearlescent powder blue substance, were shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Heaving a sigh of relief, Raven set the basket on the vanity and stepped into the hall, absent-mindedly wrangling her voluminous hair into a set of pigtails. Looking around the halls, she cautiously followed the source of the noises she could hear, voices and the clinking of dishware. After a few minutes of wandering, she found a large dining room filled with several circular tables, each filled with boys in pajamas. Along the furthest wall was a long table, loaded with foods of all kinds. Raven had barely set foot into the room when she heard Vil call for her.

“There you are, dear! Come sit down, we need to eat.” He was seated at a larger table in the middle of the room, with Epel on one side and an empty chair on the other. Raven slowly made her way over, conscious of all the eyes on her.

“Good morning, Raven.”

“Good morning, Epel!” Raven responded with a smile. Without Epel, she probably wouldn’t have gotten to go to bed till much later last night.

“I already got you a plate, so dig in,” Vil commanded. Raven complied, beaming at the selection in front of her. There was a strip of bacon, an omelet, and a small bowl of what was likely yogurt, topped with nuts. Honestly, it looked like a breakfast she would have at home, with Cook. Picking up her fork, Raven took a moment to observe those around her. Vil’s manners were impeccable, while Rook’s were decent, and Epel’s made her want to cringe a little. Despite being the next Evil Queen, she was still a princess, and had been given almost four years of etiquette lessons as a kid. From what she could see of other tables, it was a mixed bag.

“I can’t lie, I’m pretty happy to see a healthy breakfast. At Ever After High, it’s all sweet foods and pastries every morning. Most of us Rebel kids can’t stomach it, but the Royals love it, so we don’t ever get anything good.” Raven commented, cutting up her omelet into small pieces.

“Really? How odd, here every dorm takes a weekly poll on what to have for breakfast each week. Headmaster Crowley would never exclude an entire group of students like that.” Epel scoffed, wrinkling his nose.

“Indeed.” Vil sniffed. “I can’t imagine that’s very good for their skin, either. Ah well, you’re here now, Raven, and that’s all that matters.” Raven smiled a little. Yeah, this wasn’t so bad, not at all.

X0X0X

As soon as Raven finished eating, Vil shooed her off to get ready for the day, making Raven giggle. He may act vain, but the boy was rather maternal. Once she was back in her room, Raven quickly hopped in the shower, pleased to find that the shampoo and conditioner Vil gave her were not heavily scented, but instead smelled faintly of jasmine. After she had rinsed the last of the conditioner, Raven hopped out and spelled one of the towels to dry her hair as she brushed her teeth. For some reason, her magic was working far better here than it ever had back home. Not once had something gone wrong. It was odd, being able to rely on her magic. Shrugging it off as a problem for later, Raven spelled her clothes clean and transfigured them into the same clothes as yesterday, this time pulling her hair into a four-strand braid. Sliding her feet into her heels, Raven made her way back into her room proper right as someone knocked on the door.

“Just a second!” She called, trying not to glance at the mirror on the vanity out of the corner of her eye. She’d need to get something to cover that with. Raven opened the door to see Vil, wearing an odd layered outfit, waiting on her.

“You look lovely dear. Now, we barely have time to do your makeup, but I’m nothing if not capable under pressure.” Vil grabbed her shoulders and spun her about, guiding her over to the vanity. Raven sucked in a deep breath at seeing herself in the reflection. She neverlooked in mirrors if she could help it, especially for long periods. With the glamour out of her hair and no lipstick, she almost looked like her half-sister….

“Now, I’m thinking a natural look, we’ll leave your lips bare, but a touch of highlighter and blush will look lovely. Hold still, this won’t take five minutes.” Vil’s words snapped her from her thoughts, making her shake her head a little. With expert precision, Vil swiped a brush across the top of her cheekbones and along the bridge of her nose. After a few more swipes, he clicked the compact in his hand closed, smiling.

“I am too good. Alright, take a look and then let’s be off, it would be rude to be late.” Vil was so busy packing his things back into his purse that he didn’t notice the slight panic in Raven’s eyes when she realized that she needed to look in the mirror. Taking as quick a glance as possible, Raven stood and pushed the chair in.

“Ready when you are!” She chirped, folding her hands in front of herself.

“Alright then, let’s be off! I can say with certainty that the other dorm leaders will adore you.” Vil said, smoothing a few flyaway hairs out of Raven’s face.

I hope so… Raven thought. 

@keiwahikari

@sayuricorner

[appalachianwiine]

Swim - Chapter 2 - Be Scared With Me

Be scared with me, honey Be scared, I am too Let's share in the running We'll fare best as two Be scared 'til it's funny Be scared through and through Be scared 'til it's sunny We'll stare down into the unknown And anything this world can do to you and me

-"Be Scared With Me" by Canyon City

The next half hour is a blur, he’s throwing things in a suitcase for Lydia and then throwing them in the car, pulling out of the driveway as Rick pulls in. Rick waves at them but Daryl doesn’t even register the movement until he’s already out of the driveway and turning off their street.

“Daddy where are we going?!” Lydia’s high pitched panicked voice breaks through the colored fog in his head and he has to pull to the side of the side of the road. He turns back in his seat and looks back at her. Tears are running down her cheeks, making his heart twist when he sees them.

“Lydia I-” He takes a deep breath. “Sorry kid I - um we’re - I talked to Dr. Lori on the phone.”

“M-More needles?” Lydia whimpers.

“I don’t know.” He says. “But we have to go to the hospital okay? They’re going to - to make sure you’re okay.”

“Wh-why do we have to go now?” Lydia whines.

“Because - Because something might be wrong with your blood.” He grapples for a child friendly way to explain what's running through his head.

“Wrong with my blood?” Lydia sounds confused now. “What's wrong with my blood?”

“We - we don’t know.” Daryl says, a half truth but he’ll think of a better explanation later. “But we have to go to the hospital to find out okay?”

“So… we’re not going to Carl’s?” Lydia pouts, her lower lip sticking out. “We’re going to the hospital to see Dr. Lori?”

“We’re going to the hospital, but we’re not going to see Dr. Lori.” He says quietly. “We’re going to see a different doctor. A special doctor.”

“A special doctor?” Lydia’s voice is shaky. Wariness of doctors was nothing new, she’d been picked over by a dozen of them taking photos and records for evidence against her mother.  “Like - like the one who took the pictures?”

“No.” Daryl says heavily. “Not like that. This is a doctor for your blood.”

“A doctor for my blood.” She mutters.

“Yeah. We’re gonna go check your blood.” He nods.

“And then we can go home?”

“And then we can go home.” He hopes to hell it isn’t a lie. Lydia turns her face away from him to look out the window, the evening sun catching the tears on her cheeks and making them shimmer. She doesn’t say anything so Daryl turns back around, puts the car in drive and starts off towards the hospital.

Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta is only 20 minutes from where they live, he’d driven by thousands of times - even been in a few times when a case warranted it - but he’d never really seen it. It’s a big building with a large swooping glass overhang leading up to the emergency room entrance and brightly colored stick figured logo printed on one of the outer walls. Daryl finds himself staring at one of the parking spaces labeled “emergency room parking”. Did he go there? Or all the way to long term parking? Did it matter? He could move the car later he decides, pulling into the spot and unbuckling his seat belt.

“Ready kiddo?” Daryl says, turning to Lydia.

Lydia shakes her head, her wide brown eyes watching him in terror. “I don’t want to Daddy.”

“I know, kid.” He says, stepping out of the car and opening her door. “Want me to carry you?” Lydia nods and unbuckles her seatbelt, holding her arms out for him to lift her from the seat. He picks up the duffle bag, sliding it over one arm and then picks up Lydia, closing the car door he hears the automatic click as he turns and starts for the hospital.

The ER is fairly unbusy, a couple of coughing kids and their worried parents, and a single receptionist sitting behind the desk.

“Hello Sir how can I help you?” He can’t help but feel that the woman's voice is far too chipper and enthusiastic for the ER of a children’s hospital.

“I - I um - I was told to bring my daughter here.” Daryl’s mouth is suddenly very dry and his throat tight.

“Okay, what’s your daughter’s name?” The woman's bright smile just won’t fade will it?

“Uh, Lydia. Lydia Dixon, we were told they were waiting for us here.” He mutters, was he in the right place? There were three of these hospitals spread throughout the city after all. Had he come to the wrong one?

She clicks on the computer a few times and recognition sparks in her eyes, and then ever so slightly, her smile falters. “Oh, yes Dr. Rhee informed us you’d be coming. If you’d just go over to bed 4, the nurse will come take vitals and I'll tell Dr. Rhee you’re here. Fill out this paperwork while you wait okay?” She holds out a clipboard.

“Lyd, you take that?” Daryl’s out of hands to take the clipboard with. Lydia lifts her head off his shoulder and removes one arm from around his neck to take the clipboard with.

“Is Dr. Rhee nice?” Lydia asks as she takes the clipboard from the receptionist.

“Dr. Rhee is very nice.” The receptionist assures. “You’ll love her.”

“Good.” Lydia mutters, putting her head back down on Daryl’s shoulder as they walk over to bed 4. He sets her down on the bed, drops the duffle bag in one of the chairs and pulls the curtains closed around the bed for privacy. Lydia sits limply in the middle of the bed and he looks at her, properly, for the first time since he got that phone call.

How could he not see it before? She was pale, circles rimming her eyes, and she kept yawning in spite of her long nap this afternoon. Had she looked like this for a long time? Or was he only thinking she did because of what Lori had said?

Daryl picks up the clipboard from where Lydia had dropped it on the bed and sits down to look at the questions. Some of it was easy, name, date of birth, blood type, vaccine history. But some of it was harder;

Does your child have a family history of medical or psychiatric issues? If yes, what relation and what diagnosis?

He didn’t know. Evil her mother may have been, but as far as a medical history went? He had no idea.  He didn’t know anything about her before age four, when he’d been called to the ER to get the evidence. He licks his lips and scrawls ‘ unknown’ in the space following the question and moving on to the rest of the form. He doesn’t really have anyone to put as an emergency contact but he scrawls Rick and Michonne’s numbers in the provided spacing, he’ll clear it with them later. He skips the questions about menstruation - she was too young for that - and stops at the question;

Why have you brought your child to the ER today?

His mouth is very dry again, and he looks over to the bed where Lydia is sat. She was halfway in between pajamas and dinner clothes - jeans underneath her nightgown - and her hair was still a mess. She’s staring quietly at the blue curtain, her eyes glazed over, not making a peep or complaining about being bored, a large bruise peeking out underneath the strap of the nightgown.

The question taunts him on the page, and with shaky handwriting he writes ‘ Leukemia’ The word is bolder and darker then the rest of the words on the page.

“Knock knock!” A voice calls from outside the curtain, making Lydia jump.

“Come - come in.” Daryl says, reaching for Lydia’s hand and giving it a squeeze. A nurse in bright pink scrubs with white hearts on them slips past the curtain.

“Hi Miss Lydia.” The nurse smiles. “I’m Nurse Andrea.”

“Hi.” Lydia mutters.

“Can you hold out your arm for me?” The nurse asks, reaching for the equally brightly colored blood pressure cuff. Lydia eyes it warily, but extends her arm. The nurse, Andrea, puts it around her arm. “And stick out your tongue?” She goes for a thermometer, which Lydia lets be slid into her mouth. “And point your finger?” And on the pulse oximeter slides. “Thank you Lydia.” To Daryl she turns and says “I can take those forms for you.”

“Thanks.” He mutters, handing her the clipboard. The monitors beep and off comes the pulse oximeter and blood pressure cuff, and out comes the thermometer.

“Okay Miss Lydia you’re running just a little bit of a temperature but we’re going to let Dr. Rhee take a look at you before giving anything. Dad do you have any questions?” She turns to Daryl, looking at him expectantly.

“Yeah uh, when uh - when will Dr. Rhee be down? And - what uh - what do we do from -from here?” He rubs his chin with one hand.

“Well,” The nurse says carefully. “From here Dr. Rhee will run more tests to confirm the diagnosis, and then you’ll be admitted to the Oncology floor. Is Mom coming? Should we wait a bit?”

Daryl shakes his head. “Nah, ‘s just me. I jus’ - i jus’ wan’ her t’ be okay.”

“You’re in very good hands. I’ll go run these forms and Dr. Rhee will be right in.” Nurse Andrea says with a smile, turning from them and slipping back out of the curtained area.

They wait almost an hour for Dr. Rhee, and Daryl finds himself growing more and more antsy. Lydia doesn’t seem to mind, she sits quietly and watches videos on the Ipad. Daryl meanwhile half heartedly answers texts from Lori, Shane, Rick, and Michonne. He even hears from his boss, telling him not to worry and focus on Lydia - which is good, because he hasn’t thought about work a single moment since that phone call from Lori.

“Hello?” a voice calls from beyond the curtain. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah um - sorry yeah.” Daryl says quickly, standing up.

Daryl isn’t sure what he’d been expecting when he thought of Dr. Rhee but it definitely wasn’t the person standing in front of him. Dr. Rhee had shoulder length brown hair, green eyes, and looked to be about six months pregnant. She was smiling at him and Lydia and holding her hand out. She wasn’t the cool clinical figure he imagined a pediatric oncologist to be, she was warm and welcoming. He shakes her hand.

“I’m Daryl, this is Lydia.” He says, watching Dr. Rhee shake Lydia’s hand.

“Well it’s nice t’ meet ya both.” Dr. Rhee isn’t from Atlanta, he can tell that much from her accent, she’s from somewhere rural, somewhere like he was from. “I’m Maggie Rhee, Lori told you you’d be coming. Now Miss Lydia,” She pulls up a stool, taking a squirt of the hand sanitizer from the wall as she does. “What brings you here today?”

“I’m sick with bad blood.” Lydia says, watching Dr. Rhee warily as she feels the lymph nodes on Lydia’s neck.

“Well you’re lucky then.” Dr. Rhee smiles. “I happen to be the best at treating bad blood. Now can I borrow your daddy for a moment?”

“Uh-huh.” Lydia nods. “But I want bunny first.”

“Alright kiddo.” Daryl opens the duffle bag and pulls the worn, stuffed rabbit from inside. “There ya go, there’s bunny.” She takes it and lays back down on the bed, letting Daryl step outside the curtain without so much as a murmur.

Dr. Rhee leads him a few feet away to a row of empty chairs. “I took a look at Lydia’s bloodwork and I believe Dr. Grimes was right, she has Leukemia.”

“Okay.” He nods. “What- what does that mean?”

“Well, tonight we’re going to go ahead and admit her to Oncology, and in the morning we��re going to do a Bone Marrow Biopsy, this will tell us what kind of Leukemia lydia has and allow us to make a good treatment plan she’ll als-”

“Type of Leukemia?” Daryl interrupts. “There’s types of Leukemia?”

“Yes.” Dr. Rhee says. “There’s several types. Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, Acute Myeloid Leukemia, Chronic Lymphoblastic Leukemia, Chronic Myeloid Leukemia, and Juvenile Myelomonocytic Leukemia. We know Lydia has one of the Acute types, most likely Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, it accounts for 75% of all childhood leukemiads. There’s also subtypes of that, but those are more complicated, I can tell you about them but I do think it would be better to wait until after the bone marrow biopsy so we have a better idea what we’re dealing with.”

“There’s - what?” Daryl manages. “And  and what’s a bone marrow biopsy what - what are you going to do to my daughter?”

“There are subtypes. But I don’t want you to worry about that right now.” Dr. Rhee says, her voice calm but strong. “A Bone Marrow Biopsy is where we drill a hole into her pelvic bone and take a sample of the bone marrow, that way we can test it for leukemia cells and find out which subtype we’re dealing with.”

“You’re going to drill a hole in her pelvis?” His head is spinning. “She - she’s eight.”

“She’s going to be anesthetized, because at the same time we’re going to do a lumbar puncture with chemo and put in a PICC line.” She explains.

“A - a what? You don’t even know what kind of Leukemia she has and you’re going to give her chemo during surgery?” He asks, trying to process what was said to him.

“A lumbar puncture with chemo, we’re going to sample her spinal fluid and inject chemotherapy drugs into her spinal fluid. We do this with all leukemia patients regardless of type. We’re also placing a PICC line. That’s a line that runs from the upper arm into the heart. We can change this to a Port-a-cath at a later date but for the time being a PICC line will be easiest.” She explains.

Daryl can’t even think straight anymore, all he sees are the words, Chemo, Bone Marrow, Leukemia, PICC, Cancer. Cancer. Cancer, running across his brain. Finally he swallows. “Okay - okay and - and you’ll - you do all of this?”

“No.” She says. “Well, I do some of it. I’ll do the biopsy and the lumbar puncture. But the general surgeon will place the PICC line. He’s my husband actually and he’s very good at what he does. I promise.”

“Okay.” He swallows. “Okay. This - this is a lot.”

“I know.” Dr. Rhee offers a supportive smile and reaches out to squeeze his hands. “Is your wife coming?”

“I uh - I don’t have a wife.” He says. “‘S jus’ me. Lydia’s mom - she’s - well I adopted her. ‘S just us.”

“Okay.” Dr. Rhee nods slowly. “The hospital has a support group for parents of children with cancer. It’s run by a woman who was a single mom during her daughter's cancer treatment. Is it alright if I give her a call?”

“Sure.” The robotic reply comes, but now along with the word Cancer and Leukemia is another thought. There are enough kids with this for a support group - and enough single parents that Dr. Rhee knew one off the top of her head.

“Alright.” Dr. Rhee says. “Her name is Carol Peletier, I’ll give her a call and then put you in touch with the group. Does that work?”

“Yeah.” He breathes.

“Then how about you go sit with Lydia, a nurse will be down soon to take you up to your room.” Dr. Rhee stands and offers a supportive smile. “Your daughter is in good hands Mr. Dixon. And you obviously care a lot. That’s good, Lydia’s gonna need that.”

The room they end up in, room 324, has a large window looking over the city, it’s dark now and the street lights have lit up the city like a million fireflies. Lydia scowls as the nurse hands her a hospital gown.

“Do i have to put this on?” Lydia frowns.

“Probably baby girl.” Daryl sighs, “come on, get yer stuff off an’ put it on. Then ya can get int’ bed.”

“I don’t want to sleep.” Lydia pouts. “I’m hungry daddy.”

Daryl checks his watch, it was almost 10pm and they hadn’t eaten yet. Christ where had the hours gone. “Let me ask the nurse if we can get somethin’ t’ eat okay?”

“Okay.” Lydia sighs, climbing up into the bed.

Daryl opens the door to find a nurse standing right in front of him. “Oh uh - sorry.” eh mutters. “I was um - we wanted to know if I can get her something to eat.”

“Well Dr. Rhee wants her started on antibiotics for the fever, but we can get you a wheelchair for her and you can take her to the cafeteria.” the nurse says.

“The - oh right.” he frowns, she had had a fever. “Why antibiotics?”

“Just incase it’s an infection, it’s a high risk with Leukemia patients. We’ll start them via IV.” The nurse explains.

“IV.” That would go over like a lead balloon. She hated needles.

“It’s the fastest way to get them.” The nurse explains. “But then you can take her for food or have it brought here.”

“Okay.” Daryl nods, turning back into the room. Lydia is watching him suspiciously from the bed. “Lyd, we gotta give you some medicine.”

“What kind of medicine?” Lydia frowns.

“Medicine for your fever.” Daryl says, sitting on the edge of the bed. “They gotta use a needle but it won’t hurt, you can sit on my lap the whole time.”

“Th-the whole time?” Lydia mutters, licking her lips nervously.

“The whole time.” He agrees.

Lydia climbs into his lap and watches the nurse - who introduces herself as Sasha - prepare the IV line. “Daddy I don’t want to.”

“I know baby girl.” Daryl sighs, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair.

“You know what helps sometimes?” Sasha says, wiping Lydia’s arm with an alcohol wipe. “Singing. Do you know any songs?”

“Row your boat.” Lydia mutters.

“Okay.” Sasha says. “Then how about you close your eyes and you sing me the whole thing, and by the time you’re done, the IV will be in and the needle will be gone okay?”

“Okay.” Lydia muttered, closing her eyes. “Row, row, row your boat…”

Daryl can’t watch, so he looks instead outside the window that leads to the corridor. He can see the nurses station for the floor from here. There’s a little bald boy in a hospital gown, clutching an IV pole and smirking devilishly as he peers around the station corner. As he does a black man with long dreadlocks comes around the corner, scooping him up and tickling him. Daryl can’t hear it from here but he can see the little boy erupt into giggles as he’s swept off his feet and tickled.

They look out of place the man and the boy, laughing and tickling on a cancer ward, but Daryl is mesmerized. He watched the man put the boy on his shoulder, grab the rolling IV pole and start down the hall, still laughing. How can they both be laughing so hard? The little boy especially seems consumed by laughter, clinging to the man’s dreadlocks as they walk past the window, he can hear the giggles as they pass, the little boys voice cutting through the air;

“You found me daddy! You found me!”

[batskulldrag]

Phoenix by Fallout Boy

SO, Deciet’s real name is Janus, so I changed his human character’s name to Janus. I’m not changing it in any earlier chapters. But it’ll be Janus from here on out. Chapter twelve it is.

Chapter Twelve: Hell to Your Doorstep from The Count of Monte Cristo musical

               Virgil ran his finger across the edge of the photograph he had stolen from Patton’s scrap book. He had been clinging to it for days now. It was the first image he had ever seen of his parents together. And there was such an uncanny feeling to finally seeing his mother.

               She didn’t look like someone who would walk out on her kid. Not that he really blamed her for it, Payton was probably one of those guys who threatened to kill themselves to get what they want. And she was most likely leaving him with his grandmother rather than his dad. And she was only like twenty, maybe twenty-one. Probably old enough to drink, no one would have sex with Payton sober. Hardly the image of good decision making.

               No, he wasn’t mad at past mom. It was present mom who had hurt him. It was present mom who didn’t want him. Present mom who had moved on and didn’t have room for anymore baggage. Any room for him.

               Payton had often told people that she rejected the idea of starting a family with him, it was a good sympathy play that cast him as the victim. She seduced him and left him with the baby. Another great victim claim. And of course, the pseudo rape story that had started most of this. Payton finally bit off more than he could chew with a lie that could be so easily disproved.

               Despite Payton’s lies to other people, Virgil had always heard the same story. His mom left because she didn’t want him. He never would have guessed that, that was the true story.

               “Blue skidoo we can too!” Dr. Picani sang as he popped into the room. “How are you today Virgil?”

               “I’m doing good.” Virgil quickly pocketed his picture. “I haven’t had to take too many Valium.”

               “That’s good. But you are taking the Prozac daily right?”

               “Yes, Logan is super on top of that.”

               “Good. And I heard that you’re spending time at the library while Patton’s working.”

               “Yeah, it’s a pretty chill place.”

               “Oh, I thought it would be warmer, it is summer after all.” Picani grinned.

               “Patton told that same joke.” Virgil smiled.

               “So, your anxiety is calming down. How about the nightmares, you still having those?”

               “Yeah.” Virgil looked away.

               “Has the bed wetting gotten any better?”

               “There were a couple more since our last session. Uncle Logan suggested I stop drinking after nine, and that helped a bit.”

               “Ok, that’s good. And it’s awesome that your uncles are trying to help you through this.”

               “Yeah.”

               “Have you talked to either of them about, well, Payton?”

               “I told Uncle Logan a few things.”

               “Do you feel ready to talk about them here?”

               “I can try, that way if I wuss out of going to court there’s still a record of it.”

               “Hang on, let’s get into the way back machine and start at the beginning of that statement.”

               “I want to testify against my dad. I’m done being afraid of him. And I want him to know that I know he’s just a mere mortal. Just like the rest of us.”

               “That’s pretty intense. Are you sure about this?”

               “I am. I’ve given it a lot of thought.” Virgil hardened his resolve.

               “Ok. Confronting your abuser is a massive step. And it’s one that a lot of people struggle with, even adults. So, I want you to be one million percent sure of this. Ok?”

               “I am.”

               “Ok, and if you change your mind, you can.”

               “Cool.”

               “So, if we are gonna talk about Payton, I want to try a different technique with you. It’s all in the technique.”

               “What are we gonna do? You gonna pull out one of those ‘show me where he touched you’ dolls?”

               “No, but those are extremely successful, don’t diss them.” Picani replied. “I want you to tell me about your dad, but I want you to tell the story backwards.”

               “Is this from a cartoon?” Virgil squinted.

               “No, it’s from a journal of psychology.” Picani sat up straighter. “And also, the backwards messages from Gravity Falls.”

               “That reminds me.” Virgil interrupted. “Where can I get Teen Titans, I can’t find any episodes on YouTube.”

               “I recommend the DVDs you can get bonus features.” Picani answered gleefully, before becoming a shrink again. “So, what do you think? Ya, think you can talk about Payton backwards?”

               “I’ll try.” Virgil hesitated. “Which story do you want to hear?”

               “You decide, it’s your hour.”

               “I’ll go recent.” Virgil sighed and thought hard. “So, when I looked at the bruise later there was a full-fledged belt mark. As always, I went to school bruises and all. It was at that point that he started hitting me. Sick of his bullshit, I told him to stop harassing me over something that wasn’t my fault. As he does, Payton mocked and yelled at me for wetting the bed like a toddler, saying if I keep this up, he is just going to order a crib for me. Payton came in and asked why I was screaming. I woke up screaming and noticed that the sheets were wet. It was April, and I had a debate meeting coming up and a chess tournament and all of my teachers were on me to talk to my dad about my grades, so when I finally did get to sleep, I had nightmares.”

               Virgil paused the memory didn’t seem so terrifying now. What black magic…?  

               “How ya feelin’” Picani asked curiously.

               “Ok.” Virgil responded, surprised. “What happened?”

               “Well, the idea is to be able to recall what happened backwards so that you can see the memory but not the fear associated with the moment. I think it’s using just your left brain, and then you can see the even without feeling that crushing weight. Like you get to know that it wasn’t the end of the world, process it and be able to move on. Cool, Huh?”

               “Very.” Virgil smiled.

               “And it’s not so bad seeing a thing in reverse. It’s almost kind of funny.”

               “Sure, if you watch a horror movie backwards it ends up being about a monster who brings people back to life.”

               “Exactly.”

               “How are you going to decipher what I’m actually saying?”

               “I’m recording our session so I can work it out later.”

               “Cool.” Virgil nodded. “Aren’t tape recordings not admissible though?”

               “The recording is just for me we’re not taking it into court.”

               “Ok.” Virgil looked at the ground. “What can we do if Payton accuses my uncles of abusing me?”

               “Well, unless your dad has proof it’s just going to be an accusation.”

               “Yeah, but then the accusation is still going to be there. And just that could ruin them. I don’t want that to happen.”

               “Virgil, are you worried that he’s going to claim that they have been molesting you?”

               “Yes. He’s literally the devil. He would totally do that. What can I do to counter that?”

               “I’ll call my friend Joan, they’re with the police, and they can probably help me get a few things together. Ok?”

               “Like what?”

               “We have screening tests to see if a person is, well, sick in that way, that we use mostly for cases like this.”

               “Ok.” Virgil looked at his skeptically.

               “And.” He hesitated. “Well, since you brought it up… they haven’t done anything like that have they?”

               “No.” Virgil went with the response that could never be taken out of context. “They have not at any point in time touched me in any inappropriate manner or tried to commit any sexual acts with me. It has never happened, and I am completely certain that it never will.”

               Virgil smiled at Picani after he finished talking.

               “Virgil, do you watch a lot of court room dramas?” Picani asked, giving him a side eye.

               “I’ve been watching a lot of reddit threads about custody battles.” Virgil looked at the floor, ashamed. “I’m scared.”

               “That’s perfectly normal.” Picani soothed. “You don’t want to go back to Payton, and you don’t want anything to happen to your uncles, am I right?”

               “Yeah, that’s about it.”

               “Well, we’re all going to try to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

               “Ok.” Virgil stared at him through his bangs.

               “We still have some time do you want to keep talking?”

               “I guess.”

               “Ok, and afterwards, can you send your uncles in?”

               “Sure.”

                                                                               #             #             #

               “I already had Patton take that screening as a part of his background test.” Thomas said from Emile’s monitor. “Logan too. They’re clean, at least as far as we can prove.”

               “Well, at least there’s that.” Emile responded. “Virgil’s pretty worried. And I think he has a good reason to be.”

               “We have a solid case, and at least three reasons for Payton to lose custody.” Janus added from his portion of the screen. “Four if we can charge him with neglect.”

               “Ok, Jan. We don’t have to wail on him.” Thomas scolded.

               “Maybe you don’t.” Janus rolled his good eye. “And I told you not to call me jan.”

               “Look, Virgil expressed a concern about this, and I want to be able to prove that we are doing something.” Emile interrupted, not wanting an argument. “I want him to see that he can trust people.”

               “I get that.” Thomas sighed. “The system messed him over just about as much as his dad did. Well, I covered all the bases. I’m not about to release a teenager into the custody of potential pedophiles.”

               “And we should get the results of Payton’s psych evaluation from the prison soon.” Janus added smoothly. “His bail hearing didn’t go as well as he would have wanted.”

               “He’s still locked up?” Thomas raised an eyebrow.

               “He doesn’t have anywhere to go.” Emile added. “He burned his house down, and he can’t stay with Patton because he’s not allowed to go near Virgil.”

               “That’s pretty much it. That and they were worried he may try to retaliate against his brother.”

               “How has no one helped this kid sooner?” Thomas said, his face buried in his hands.

               “I know.” Emile sighed. “I hate working with older kids. It hurts to think that they had to suffer for that long.”

               “We’re doing all we can.” Janus sighed, rubbing his temples. “And we’re helping him now. You can’t keep driving yourself crazy every time you get assigned to an older kid. I’m sorry, but we can’t save everyone.”

               “Ok, I have another session soon.” Emile looked at the clock in the computer. “I just wanted to see if everything was kosher.”

               “It is. Unfortunately for Payton, this isn’t our first time doing this.” Janus smiled.

               “Yeah, he’s really screwed himself.” Thomas added. “It’s gonna be a fireworks display.”

               “Ok. Keep me updated.”

               “We will.” Janus nodded. “I wonder if I can prove neglect.”

               Janus Pent or surprisingly cruel attorney logged off.

               “Damn, he’s vindictive.” Thomas sighed.

               “He’s a bit of a Bismuth, but he means well.”

               “Yeah, I guess we all have to cope with this somehow.”

               “You still good for our session on Thursday?”

               “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

               “Ok, bye.”

               “Peace out.”

               Thomas logged off.

               Emile closed his laptop. Thomas was a Steven all the way. He wanted to help, and usually he spread himself too thin trying to help everyone. And he’d beat himself up way too much over the ones he couldn’t help. But he was doing ok, therapy helped him. Mostly, it showed him that he needed to help himself as well.

               Janus or Pent or E.S as his plaque read, (they somehow misheard his name), or whatever he wanted to be called, was very different. He was a Bismuth. Passionate, skilled but very vindictive. He wasn’t a bad guy. He was just very empathetic towards the victims he represented and wanted to hurt their abusers right back. That wasn’t bad, in fact it was very normal. But it definitely needed to be kept in check.  

               Emile traced a circle around one of his cardigan buttons. He liked to think of himself as a Steven as well or maybe an Amethyst. After all, he went into medicine to help people. And as many people as he could. Sure, no one thought he was cut out for it. He always knew that. No one was more aware than Emile that he didn’t cast the most intelligent looking silhouette. And yes, he talked about cartoons a lot. But it worked.

               He had a decent success rate. And being a goofy goober made people open up to him. If he walked into a session with a fake persona then his patients would put their walls up too.

               “If I had been Mr. Stoic, Virgil would have never talked to me.” Emile said to himself. “None of the kids would have. Heck, most of the couples might not have.”

                                                                               #             #             #

               “Ok, we’ll be home in an hour, maybe more.” Patton said as he hugged Virgil. “Stay safe and be good for Roman.”

               “Uncle Patton, I’m thirteen.” Virgil sighed, hugging him back.

               “We shouldn’t be too long.” Logan sighed, patting Virgil on the head. “I’m giving Payton half an hour to threaten us, and the lawyers half an hour to negotiate. I’m hoping I can have them talk while Payton threatens us. It’ll save time.”

               “I’m sorry I got you into this.” Virgil buried his face in Patton’s shoulder.

               “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Patton kissed him on the head.

               “We’re almost out of this. The metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel.”

               “By the by.” Roman added, he was leaning against the wall casually. “Remus and I talked on the phone last week, he said if we need a diversion so we can run away with Virgil, he’s down for it. Said, he’s been practicing.”

               “We’re not using Remus as a distraction.” Patton said officially. “It’s not fair to exploit his, whatever is wrong with him. We’re doing this legally.”

               “Are we sure Remus is real?” Virgil asked. “I don’t wanna think that there’s someone that screwed up in the world.”

               “Payton is worse, he exists.” Roman countered. “Remus isn’t a bad person, he’s just insane.”

“We’re not talking about Payton right now.” Patton waved away the idea.

               “We should get going, I’d like to be early.” Logan squeezed Patton’s shoulder.

               “Ok.” He smiled up at him and turned back to Virgil. “I just want you to know that we love you and we’re proud of you. And everything’s gonna be ok.”

               Patton gave him one last kiss and left with Logan. They entered the car silently. Patton drove to keep his mind off things. As they left the driveway, he heard the rhythmic sounds of Logan slamming his hand on the car door.

               “Logan, honey, are you alright?” Patton glanced over to him.

               “I’m a bit nervous.” Logan answered flatly, still drumming his hand. “There’s a lot of feelings going around. I’m surprisingly susceptible to that.”

               “Do you wanna clap?”

               “Absolutely not.”

               “You can, I don’t mind.”

               “I’m okay with hitting the door.”

               “Do you wanna talk?” Patton reached over and took Logan’s free hand. “Is all the abuse talk making you uncomfortable?”

               “No, I think it’s just the stress of having a child.” Logan sighed. “It’s an adjustment, but I can handle it.”

               “You’re doing great. Virgil had so much fun playing chess with you last week, I think he’s really taken to you.”

               “You’re doing an excellent job as well.” Logan squeezed his hand. “I think Virgil’s almost used to having a loving role model in his life. And he certainly likes you.”

               “That’s good.” Patton smiled. “I know it’s only been about a month, but I can’t imagine life without our dark, strange son.”

               “Me neither.” Logan looked at the floor to hide his smile. “And we won’t have to. I have every right to be confident.”

                                                                               #             #             #

               The prison looked exactly like, well a prison. The five of them had been given a room to meet privately, rather than try to use the phone things.

               Payton stared at the three of them coldly while his lawyer looked on, the effigy of stoicism. Patton anxiously pulled at his fingers and Janus, as they found out was his actual name, looked on at their opponents unfazed. And Logan, Logan met Payton’s gaze with total eye contact. He could stare until his head hurt, but he would have to do a lot more than glare to get Logan to back down.

               “So, I arranged this meeting to see if we could avoid going to court altogether.” Janus began. “Do you think you three could come to an agreement?”

               “I’m willing to offer supervised visitation rights.” Patton said looking at the table.

               “Oh, do I have your permission to see my son?” Payton sneered. “How generous, will you let me write him a letter if I’m a good boy?”

               “Payton, this isn’t funny.” Patton didn’t look up.

               “I’m not laughing. First you ruin my campaign and call me a liar, you get me investigated by my old law firm and now you’re here telling me that I can only see my own son on your terms. Do you realize that I haven’t seen him since the fire?”

               “Payton, it is not our fault that you’re losing custody of Virgil.” Logan argued. “We are just trying to do what’s best for him.”

               “Do you think our terms are fair?” Janus asked the other lawyer.

               “No,” The lawyer answered. “My client wishes to maintain full custody of his son.”

               “He’s going to prison.” Patton looked up. “He can’t keep custody.”

               “That is not a part of this case.” The lawyer retorted.

               “This is ridiculous.” Logan sighed. “If you lose, we get custody of Virgil, if you somehow win, you are still facing jail time for a long enough period to lose custody anyway. Why are you doing this?”

               “I don’t want my son being raised by you two.” Payton said, mimicking a normal tone. “I don’t trust you to provide for him, so I’d prefer if he went somewhere else, should I not be there for him.”

               Logan looked on in shock. Payton actually thought that he could beat the arson case, he even thought he could get custody of Virgil. He didn’t see any reason that he was in the wrong. He had absolutely no clue that his actions were reprehensible. How? How could he see this as acceptable?

               “Payton, do you realize what you did to Virgil was wrong?” Logan asked.

               “Well, you’re sticking to your story.” Payton scoffed. “So, I’ll say it again. I have never harmed my son. I don’t know if it was him that started that horrid lie, or if you and Patton decided that it was the best way to get a kid, but it is still a vicious lie.”

               They way Payton’s eyes lit up as he lied was horrifying. They glowed with a cruel light that said, ‘I’ve beaten you’ and he believed that he had won. He was thrilled with the prospect of dragging this out. Patton looked back at the table. Logan didn’t break eye contact.

               “We are willing to offer you supervised visitation. Virgil is going to need someone to drive him out to see you anyway.” Logan repeated Patton’s original offer.

               “We sure are going through a lot just so you can pretend to stand up to your parents.” Payton smiled at him the freak might as well have had fangs. “I will not bow to these allegations, taking any deals would be like admitting that I have abused my son. I’m not going to stand up and say that you two are fit parents while I’m not. No deal.”

               “Well,” Janus stood up. “It looks like we can’t agree on anything. I’ll see you both in court.”

               The three of them walked out into the hallway and watched as a guard took Payton back to his cell.

               “That was suboptimal.” Logan sighed. “Unfortunately, it’s nothing more than I expected.”

               “I’ll make sure to get us in with a judge that isn’t a moron.” Janus added angrily. “If Payton thinks he has a case, he can kiss my ass.”

               “Are you sure he doesn’t have a case that can beat ours?” Patton looked up from the floor.

               “Doctors say that Virgil has been abused, Virgil says that his dad hit him, police say that Payton is going to jail for felony child endangerment and arson. And there’s all the shit he did while he was practicing law. He’s losing custody, in fact I hope he wins this case, so he can lose custody again when he goes to jail.”

               “I’m worried.” Patton grabbed Logan’s hand.

               “We’re going to be ok.” Logan squeezed Patton’s hand in return. “Everything’s gonna be ok.”

               “Well, now Payton doesn’t even get supervised visits.” Janus chimed in, trying to be funny. “Trust me, this is going to be one of the easiest child removal cases in history. Payton shot himself in the foot.”

               “Payton didn’t shoot anything he doesn’t own a gun.” Logan squinted at Janus

               “It’s a metaphor honey.” Patton rested his chin on Logan’s shoulder.

               “Right.” Logan looked at the floor.

               “Well, I’m sorry I wasted your time.” Janus sighed. “You two go home and relax. Rest assured that I know what I’m doing.”

               “Sure.” Patton sighed. “When do you think the rape allegations will show up?”

               “Probably in court, but Payton is already a known liar.” Janus smiled. “He’s not going to get very far with that.”

               “Ok.” Logan nodded. “Thanks.”

               “I guess we can call you ‘No prob Bob’.” Patton smiled.

               “No, you can’t.”

[marshmallowprotection]

um so... im fifteen, and my parents are... well they fight everyday.... i mean like it’s calming down a bit nowadays.... and my grades are falling 😓 my mom screams at me daily... about almost everything... um.. whenever i tell my friends they say its abuse and i guess it is... um so... i was wondering if you had any advice or something... cuz i want out of this house, but i dont have anywhere to go....

TW: Abuse

My best piece of advice to you is to take a deep breath and take a few moments to clear your mind. It’s hard to talk about this stuff so I’m glad you’ve been trying to reach out to other people. This pandemic has made it much harder for teens at risk to get help to get out of dangerous environments, detrimental to not only their physical health but their mental health as well. Emotional abuse is just as harmful and unjust as physical abuse. 

What I need you to know is that you’re cared about and that whatever your parents have told you about yourself in any negative fashion is not true. It may take you some time to learn that, it took me a long time to learn that what my Dad said wasn’t true about me, either. I know where you’re coming from and I want you to know that you’re not alone, even though it may feel like you are. 

It took me a long time to realize that my own situation was not okay, so here’s a checklist to help validate what you’re feeling may be abuse. If they belittle you or do anything of the things mentioned here, then yes, it is classified as abuse. I don’t have all the details but here’s the thing, when you start to question and feel unsure of something like this, it tends to be true. Don’t feel ashamed or like this is your fault, because it is not. 

You are not to blame. You’re a child and your parents should love, appreciate, and treat you with respect. They should not berate you or make you feel like you are in physical danger, or like you are worthless. That is not okay. and it will be okay That is not your fault, so, I don’t want you to think that it is. But it is not, and you do not deserve to be treated like that. 

I’m going to give you some tips here, and I want you to be careful in case your history is being monitored. 

Delete everything that looks “bad” as soon as possible if you are fearful of your privacy.  The history, any downloads, whatever you think isn’t “okay”. You need to be safe, that is your number one priority in this situation. You’re a teenager, so there are resources that you can use. 

If you feel that you are in immediate danger, don’t hesitate to contact authorities or someone you trust. If you have family that you can move in with or stay with, that’s always ideal. If you have friends that you can stay with, that is also good to see through. What adults are supposed to tell you when you tell this to them, is they contact the Department of Children and Families.

They should have a website for your state. They have hotlines and other information about abuse and how they handle it. They tend to send investigators out to the home to speak with you and the parents or people in question of the abuse. If they have grounds that you are not safe, they will help you and remove you from the household. 

I realize that that sounds scary, but getting out of that home if you are scared is the best thing that you can do. You can talk to adults you trust, like a counselor or a teacher, etc. If you could ideally get to a friend’s house, you could get help from there as well. 

If you are not able to leave your house at the moment, and you feel like you won’t be able to get out of that place or that people won’t take you seriously, then I have advice for that too. 

First things first, check to see your state laws on recording people, or the laws of your country. I’m in America, so my advice here is for the states. I can help you secure other means if you live someplace else. If you live in a state where you cannot record a conversation without informing the other party, then in the case of you being harmed verbally, you call can 9-1-1, or whatever the local number is for you. Those calls are recorded and monitored. It can be the thing that saves you in case your parents try to discredit or slander you. 

Document what abuse that you can. If that means photographs, screenshots of messages, or recorded evidence, so be it. Sometimes, children and teenagers aren’t taken seriously unless they’ve got concrete proof. If you have family or people that will corroborate your history, that will ultimately help you as well, darling. 

So, when you do find the strength to get some help, you have things to back yourself up in case you’re scared of going in without anything and just asking an adult to help you. I can’t tell you to run away from home if you do not have a safe place to go because I’ve been homeless before, and it is hard, but I can give you links that can help you much better than I can give advice on it. 

Link 1, Link 2.

You do not deserve to be treated horribly, and I am upset to hear that you’ve been going through this. But, you are not alone. I’m here, and there are people that care about your well being. Stay strong. I’m here if you need to talk, any time. 

[kingofno-whereville]

I could really use a body swap right about now, and one of them finding some incriminating evidence that the other boy like him, and confronting him, but don't make it a long body swap, let's just sat they swap for like a few days, cause reasntly I read this other one and the body swap went on FOR-EVER

Billy had a rude awakening Wednesday morning but not in the way he was used to. Instead of a banging on his door and a yell to get up, it was the beep of an alarm clock. The last he checked he didn’t have an alarm clock. In his sleepy haze he’d thrown his blankets aside to see skinny legs in a pair of pajama pants. His heart could’ve jumped out of his chest. What the fuck?? He rubbed his eyes, looking around. That’s not his fucking room. He scrambled out of bed, running to the first mirror he saw in the room. 

Steve Harrington.

Okay so. This is just a dream. Has to be. He pinched his arm. Nothing. Shit. He wasn’t even going to bother trying to figure out what’s going on, he needed to find his body. What if Steve’s in there? He’s not lending his body to fucking Steve. He opened his drawers, looking for the least preppy outfit he could. Jeans, black button down that probably isn’t meant for casual outings, and a leather jacket he really didn’t expect to find. 

The clock read 7:15 am. He definitely had some time to explore the room. Why did Steve even wake up this early? He didn’t think he worked out, he would’ve noticed. He looked through drawers, finding the usual teenager things. Magazines. Lotion. The whole gambit. Yeah maybe he didn’t expect to see a men’s sport magazine under the porn magazine but hey that’s not his business. Billy would do that if he wasn’t so heavily monitored. He shut the drawer of the nightstand and moved onto the little shelf below the nightstand. Not much to see. Some records. A small box. He sat up on the bed(which he took the time to make, your welcome Harrington) and opened up the box. There were several photos of Steve and the kids. Steve and Nancy. Trinkets that probably meant something to Steve. Then alllll the way at the bottom was a picture of him and Steve. He recognized it right away. It was taken after they had won the basketball state championships, there was a crowd of people around them and Billy had hugged him in the excitement of the moment, someone with a camera nearby deciding that was a good moment to capture. He didn’t think Steve would save the photo. He set it back in the box and put the box away, moving onto the desk. He sat down in the chair, opening the first notebook he saw. It was some basic stuff like history notes. He flipped all the way to the end where he found some doodles and little notes.

stupid blond asshole

That had to be him. 

I wish he’d stop smirking at me like that.

He smiled, shutting the notebook. Sounds like someone’s a little frustrated. He wasn’t sure if it was just plain old frustration or sexual frustration but it made him pleased because that’s exactly what he was trying to provoke. he stood up and left the little room, shutting the door quietly behind him. The house was completely silent save for the ticking of a clock that got louder as he approached the kitchen. Jesus, where were his parents? He opened the fridge, grabbing out the carton of eggs.

He’d admit, it was kind of nice not having to rush to eat his food. He hated pulling up to school in the fucking Beemer. He had to tear apart the whole car just to find a cigarette just to find out that Steve doesn’t even have Marlboros, he’s got the weak shit. It was nice not getting bombarded by girls and Tommy. He could see the Camaro further up the parking lot so he started to head inside. He tried not to break into a run. He just wanted his body back. Sure enough he saw himself leaning up against his locker awkwardly. 

“Hey!” He called out. God he hated sounding like Harrington. He didn’t hate Harrington’s voice per say, but he hated that he had to use it until god knows when. It just doesn’t fit him. He could’ve screamed when he saw the get up Steve had him in. A sweatshirt he never wore, jeans, and his hair up. It looked pretty normal but it’s simply not how he dressed for school. Steve looked about ready to lose it himself, which is fair. Billy had to admit, he thought the outfit he picked out looked pretty hot. He watched Steve walk over before he grabbed Billy’s arm and yanked him into the nearest bathroom. 

“What the hell did you do to my hair?” That’s his concern? The hair?

“I made you look hot, you should be thanking me.” Steve just looked at him deadpan. Did his face really look like that? I mean damn Billy would admit he’s got the looks he knew that, but he just had this look settled in his eyes. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

“No. If I did I would be trying to undo it instead of going to school.”

“Did you go through my shit?”

“Hardly. There’s no time to do anything in your house.” Billy’s heart practically jumped from his chest when he realized that Steve was actually in his house around his family for an hour at least. “Uh..you’re looking a little pale there man. You good?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you gonna get mad if I ask you a question?”

“Depends.”

“What’s your dad’s problem? The guy’s a complete asshole.” Billy felt like his world was falling apart around him.

“Uhm..he’s just like that.” He’s sure he could brush it off. “So what’re we gonna do until this is..undone or whatever?”

“I don’t know. Just pretend everything’s alright?”

“Okay then you can’t dress my up like that. It looks like I just got home from the artic or some shit.”

“And you can’t flirt with everyone who speaks to you.” Oh great, they’re getting into this part of the conversation.

“I don’t! Do not sleep with anyone.”

“I don’t know that seems out of character for you.” He felt like grabbing and pushing him against a wall but he knows Steve’s got the upper hand here being in Billy’s body. 

“You have to do the dishes after dinner every night. Nobodies gonna remind you but you don’t...just don’t forget to do the dishes. I’ll have my schedule written up hour by hour and we can trade homework after school. If I give you my notebooks you better fucking keep up with the notes in class and do NOT dent my c-”

“Billy! Jesus christ I got it. We can write up schedules and rules for each other.” 

Steve’s schedule and rules were much shorter than Billy’s. Billy spent at least 20 minutes writing and used 2 pieces of lined paper. Billy read over the schedule in the car, surprised to find that he shouldn’t be expecting Mr. and Mrs. Harrington until Saturday, if it even lasts that long. Steve even included his entire hair routine on the back side of the paper. Suddenly Billy understood why Steve needed an hour in the morning. Billy included a mandatory workout routine so he guessed he could stick to a hair routine. He almost forgot Steve drives kids around whenever they need it. So if some Dustin kid called, Billy had to do whatever he needed and do it nicely. He felt like he was in a nightmare.

He got scared when he saw a car in the driveway of the Harrington house. He checked the rear view mirror, just making sure he looked as Steve as possible, before getting out and heading inside. 

“Stephen?” Stephen?? He wanted to burst out in laughter.

“Hello?” He hung his jacket on the hook and made his way towards the voice that had called out to him.

“Did you just get home from school?” This must be his mom. He had nothing to gain from her so he could just be him which was such a relief.

“Uhm..yeah. I thought you were coming home this weekend?”

“I know but I was just so exhausted. I figured we could spend some time together? I know I haven’t really been the best about spending time with you but I’ll be home for a few months so we can make up for lost time!” Billy hated that he wanted to cry. So he just smiled and nodded.

“Alright that sounds good.” 

He watched a movie with Mrs. Harrington and she told him about some guy she met who’s supposedly famous. She hugged him goodnight. She’s a good mom. After she went to bed he, went downstairs and called his place. It rang for a minute before he heard his own voice. Thank god.

“This is weird but do you want to meet up at the quarry?” He’d tell him about his mom at the quarry.

“Sure. I’ll meet you there.” He hung up and was out the door so fast.

He had spaced out, laying on the hood of Steve’s car. He was waiting to smoke until he got his cigarettes from the cup holder of the Camaro. Speak of the devil, he heard his car roll up. It’s hard to not know it’s his car. Before he knew it, Steve had sat beside him on the hood of his car.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Your mom’s home.”

“Awesome. She tell you how disappointed she is in me?”

“No? We watched a movie. You have a good mom.”

“My mom is hardly ever around.” Billy was silent. He wanted to tell him that his mom didn’t even call anymore, let alone drop in for visits. He didn’t want to elicit pity or anything.

“How’s my house?” He doesn’t know why he asked. He already knows.

“Your dad yelled at me for putting my elbows on the table and then mocked me for playing the top 40. Max thinks you’re possessed.” 

“You played fucking top 40? God you’re so bad at this whole acting thing.” He laughed. He’d laugh a lot more if he wasn’t appalled by the image of his own body dancing to that shit. “I hope this is all over tomorrow.”

“Me too. I did some cleaning in your room by the way.”

“And?” 

“Didn’t know you’re into guys Hargrove.” He’s never wanted to jump in front of a moving vehicle so badly.

“If you say anything I will-”

“I don’t mind. It’s not a big deal.” He sat up and looked at him. Did he always have a distant look on his face or is that just Harrington?

“Then I guess you know-”

“I don’t mind that either I think you’re...nice.”

“Nice? Is that all I get?”

“I don’t know, I’m not telling you I think you’re hot.”

“You just did!!!” He laughed. “When we get our bodies back, will you be mad if I kiss you?”

“Not at all.” Steve looked at him, with the most Steve looking grin. 

(they woke up in their own bodies Friday morning. they kissed so much.)

[myhauntedsalem]

23 Parents Describe Their Kids’ Creepy Imaginary Friends

1. He doesn’t have a face

“My son from the age of three always tells me about the ‘creeper man’ who lives in my mom and dad’s bedroom. He brings it up after he visits them. I made the mistake once of asking what he looks like. My son said ‘Oh, he doesn’t have a face.’”

2. “You’ll get used to killing”

“A parent of one of my students told us in a meeting that she was concerned because her son (7 years old) talked about an invisible ghost who would talk to him and play with him in his room. He said the ghost was called The Captain and was an old white guy with a beard. The kid would tell his mom that The Captain told him when he grows up his job will be to kill people, and The Captain would tell him who needed to be killed. The kid would cry and say he doesn’t want to kill when he grows up, but The Captain tells him he doesn’t have a choice and he’ll get used to killing after a while.”

3. Little girl ghost

“When my daughter was three she had an imaginary friend named Kelly who lived in her closet. Kelly sat in a little rocking chair while she slept, played with her, etc. Typical imaginary friend shit. Anyway, fast forward two years later, the wife and I are watching the new Amityville Horror (the one with Ryan Renolds) and our daughter walks out right when the dead girl goes all black eyed. Far from being disturbed she said ‘That looks like Kelly.’ ‘Kelly who?’ we say. ‘You know the dead girl that lived in my closet.’”

4. Bad rabbit

“My cousin, when she was 5, and I was 17, had a stuffed rabbit that she talked to and carried everywhere. One day she was asleep on the couch while I was watching her, and she woke up and started yelling at her rabbit for no reason. One minute she was knocked out, the next, she’s awake, glaring at her rabbit, yelling, ‘No! You can’t do that! That’s bad! Don’t do it!’ I asked her what was wrong, tried to get her to stop, but she wouldn’t listen. I finally just took the rabbit up to her room, and when I came back down she was asleep on the couch again. Fuck whatever that rabbit was planning on doing.”

5. Roger won’t be around anymore…

“My little brother’s imaginary friend, Roger, lived under our coffee table. Roger had a wife and nine kids. Roger and his family lived peacefully alongside us for three years. One day, my little brother announced that Roger wouldn’t be around anymore, since he shot and killed him and his whole family. I don’t know if he remembers any of this, but his genuine lack of remorse was very disturbing.”

6. A boy in the tree

“My folks’ farm surrounds a cemetery, and my dad and my niece were walking down there. My niece (4) looks up and says, ‘What’s that boy doing up in that tree?’ There was no boy, but she insisted there was and could describe him.”

7. The bunny man

“When I was 16, I babysat twins who were in the third grade at the time. They always spoke of a man in an Easter Bunny costume, and they were terrified of him. One day I was babysitting, and one twin was in the shower. His brother and I were sitting downstairs watching television when all of the sudden, he said, ‘You need to go check on Matt.’ Seconds later, Matt yelled, ‘He’s in here!!! He’s in here!!!’ I ran upstairs, and I had to check every room before he would calm down. I’m not sure which part of the experience freaked me out the most.”

8. Poor Shaggy

When my mom was younger she had an imaginary friend named Shaggy. When she was finished with Shaggy, she ‘chopped him up and put him in the fridge.’”

9. “Smash Daddy’s head”

“When my brother was just learning how to talk he grabbed one of those small toy hammers and crawled onto the sofa where my dad was sleeping. He then leant in close and whispered one of his first sentences… ‘Smash daddy’s head’ right into his ear.”

10. Dark angels

When my brother was little he acted like he had angels talking to him every second. One day my mom overheard him say, ‘I can’t kill him! He’s my only dad!’”

11. “That’s the man”

“My daughter used to tell me about a man who came into her room every night and put the sign of the cross on her forehead. I thought it was just a dream. Then my mother-in-law sent over some family photos. My daughter looked right at the picture of my husband’s father (who has been dead for 16 years) and said ‘That’s the man who comes into my room at night!’ My husband later told me his father would always do the sign of the cross on his forehead when he was young.”

12. Message from beyond

“My wife and I overheard my two-year-old daughter on the baby monitor wake up on Saturday morning and say, ‘What? OK I’ll tell her.’ She then got up, came into our bedroom, and told my wife, ‘Mary says you’re doing a good job.’ Mary was her grandmother that she was extremely close to that passed away.”

13. I called him Spooky Guy

“As a kid, I said that my imaginary friend was a ghost. I called him Spooky Guy and said he died in the garage of the house on the hill behind ours. I even came up with his death. He was a 16 year old who got in a car crash and walked to that house to ask to use their phone (died in the 70’s). The person lived there grabbed him and sexually abused him there and killed him. He was my imaginary friend as far back as I can remember. This scared my mom so much that she tried to look up records to see if that happened and got me a therapist.”

14. Icy wants me to tell you it will be tonight

“In high school one of my best friends had a little sister who was five or six years old. One day we stopped by his place, completely high, because he needed to get his Magic cards. While waiting for him to come downstairs his sister came up to me and said, ‘Icy told me to ask you if you know when you’re going to die.’”

I laughed nervously: morbid question, right? But I knew all about Icy, her imaginary friend. I even helped her draw a picture of him once. So I played along and said, ‘No, of course not! No one knows that. Hopefully when I’m very old.’

The girl shook her head sadly and said, ‘No, Icy wants me to tell you it’ll be tonight.’ And with that, she just walked away.”

15. It is the punishment

“I was seventeen and babysitting a friend of the family’s six-year-old boy. He’d been in bed a couple of hours and I just peeked in to check on him. He wasn’t in the bed and when I opened the door, I saw he was standing in the corner, facing the wall. creepiest fucking thing ever. I asked him what he was doing and all he did was turn around, smile, and put his finger to his lips as if to say ‘shhh.’ I asked him again what he was doing and all he says is, ‘Leave us. It is the punishment.’”

16. Keep kicking

“My grandfather had a camp on Lake Dering in New Hampshire when I was a kid. One day when I was 6 or so, I fell off of the dock and into the water. I couldn’t swim. While under, I distinctly remember seeing a little girl down there who told me to look up towards the sun and just keep kicking and I’d be fine. I swam to the surface just in time for my grandfather to swoop me up and pull me back on the dock.”

17. Nope

“When my boy was 4, his imaginary friend would sit in the corner of the room when you switched off the lights and light the room with red glowing eyes.”

18. They were both dead

“Kid I used to babysit had imaginary friends. They were dead. One had no head. One was an old lady. They were both bloody. The one with no head had insides sticking out of his neck.

I didn’t ask him questions about them because fuck that.”

19. Tracy

“When my niece was about 4 she had an imaginary friend, which I don’t remember the name of. She would blame things she did on this imaginary friend but also talked about how this friend would watch Scooby Doo with her. One day I thought, ‘Why don’t I find out more about this friend?’ So I asked her to tell me about her friend. And she said, ‘She’s a she and she’s dead.’ And I said, ‘Does she have a job?’ And she said, ‘She does what my daddy does!’ Which is that her imaginary friend was a cop. So then I said, ‘Where is your imaginary friend a police woman at?’ And she said, ‘Right next I to where my daddy is a policeman.’ But then she said, ‘I met her when I was in my mummy’s belly. She touched it when I was inside.’

A few months before my niece was born my cousin Tracy had died. She was hit by a train. She loved watching Scooby Doo and had a ton of memorabilia. She was also a cop. She was a cop in the town that is right next to the one my brother-in-law is a cop in, my niece’s ‘daddy.’ My niece’s imaginary friend was my dead cousin. There is no other way she could have known all that at the age of 4.”

20. “That’s why I don’t like water now”

“When my kid was 4, we were watching a documentary on the Titanic. The scene was a picture of the schematics of the boiler room and the camera panned from left to right over the plans. He pointed at the TV and said, ‘That’s wrong. The boilers were on the other side. And I was right here.’ And he pointed to a small space in the boiler room. ‘That’s where I was. And that’s why I don’t like water now.’”

21. Emily

“When my sister was probably about 6 or 7, she had an imaginary friend named Emily. She told us Emily lived in her closet, wore an old black dress, and had long dark hair and she was the same age as my sister. My sister played with Emily constantly. My parents started noticing my sister acting weird. Just sitting in the middle of her room whispering to Emily quite a bit and acting a lot more distant towards them. I remember a very specific day, my brother was walking by her room and my sister was sitting in the middle of her room….but she turned around and hissed at him. He was scared shitless. He told me it didn’t even look like my sister. My parents ran up to her room and I could hear my sister just screaming and screaming.”

“I have no idea what happened in that room but I ran to the bottom of my stairs and the screaming stopped, I saw my parents holding my sister crying their eyes out, she was sobbing as well. I’ve asked her about it today. She’s 24 now. She told me that Emily used to tell her to do horrible things to herself. She actually used to wake up on the roof and not remember how she got there. I’m not kidding. Apparently Emily absolutely hated my parents so she turned my sister against them. She hates talking about it so I never brought up that specific night. This all happened at my old house. When we moved into a different house, Emily was gone. I’m not making any of this up. My sisters little friend was a really big deal to my family and messed things up for a long time. I’m just relieved we left that house.”

22. She floated above his bed at night

“When my younger brother was around 4, he had an imaginary friend named Victoria Meadowbrooke. He told us that she was the prettiest girl ever and she floated above his bed a night.”

23. “The Evil is coming”

“When my older daughter was two or three, she used to have a couple of imaginary friends, Dodo and DeeDee. They were typical imaginary friends. She would talk to them and play with them, and tell me about their lives. Then one day, when she was about three, she was talking on her play phone when I walked into the room. She hung up her phone and said to me (with a completely flat voice and deadpan expression): ‘The Evil is coming.’”

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

I notice you post quite a bit about your family being extremely poor but also are an adult and seem to write a lot. Do you work to help out your family, or are you unable to? There are jobs out there that involve writing if that’s the extent you're capable of, like if disabilities get in the way of normal jobs. The level of poverty you describe your family dealing with is really depressing.

So...

I spent 11/14 years in one Christian School. There was a hiatus of 3 years of me trying out public school but I got shoved back into RBCS in 8th grade and stayed. I did not not want to go but Sperm Donor said it was a punishment for my behavior, so I’d be forced to be around Bible Thumpers every damn day.

Private Schools in America cost money. Tuition for this place was $1500 a year for kids over 10. I found out my mom’s brother John paid all my former years of education there to try and keep me close to the family(since my Nana was my school teacher) and make sure my mom didn’t go full broke.

Sperm Donor was in a pickle himself at the time. He was in the processes of being arrested for stealing nearly a million dollars from his clients(he was a financial adviser). He only took from the very desperate, disabled clients too. One died because her parents couldn’t afford her medication, because he was stealing their money. We were in a tight spot as a result, though I didn’t know enough until later. He didn’t pay my tuition or book fees($100+).

So he’s carted off to prison a month before 8th grade ends and I’m sent back to my mom’s custody. And my principal(also pastor) calls my mom to inform her that she has a $1600+ bill to pay for my schooling. She definitely does not have that and I certainly don’t either.

Next day at school I get cornered about how stealing is a sin and dishonesty is a sin(instead of blaming Sperm Donor because God forbid the man in prison for STEALING be in the wrong here). I’m offered a chance to lower the bill if I go candy-selling with the rest of the students every Friday. I will get half the profits made and it’ll be taken off my debt. So I told my mom I’d help her out and I went and did it. I ended up having to stay in the school another year where the money added on and I went candy-selling on Tuesdays too to try and make up for it. I’d earn about $50 each time so $100 a week was put toward the debt, meaning $400 a month. 

The chick who was the school/church secretary however, was a bitch who had it out for us. Monthly we’d get notices about how much debt we were in with the school, and one month a student would have $457 and the next month on the first day they apparently had $890. If tuition monthly is about $150 for teen, how did the number shoot up so much? Mine kept getting abnormally higher and reaching into the $3,000s. And I told my mom who then bitched at the school. 

The secretary barely finished high school and the only reason she was in that position that she was not capable of handling alone or at all, was because she was kissing the church’s ass. She had sex outside of marriage on school property and got pregnant and was forced to marry him to save her dignity the moment she turned 18. They kept her very close with guilt ever since. Instead of just leaving, she chose to stay and be a bitch to everyone.

My tuition issue plagued me the entire time no matter how much I did. I was so stressed constantly and letters from Sperm Donor who got to write to me in prison, said the school wouldn’t accept his tuition payments when he re-enrolled me. He said he even got his new fiance to monitor a fund he set up before leaving, and sent the money in monthly for the year he signed on. IDK who to believe because he’s a pathological liar, but the church has also been trying for 4 years to get me back into their fold, popping up at my mom’s house uninvited, trying to guilt trip me with Godly reasons, accusing me of being a ‘whore’ who needs to get right with God all because I wore pants, and using my terminally ill Nana as an excuse. They very much would and have actually taken payments without recording them in the logbooks.

I spent my HS years in debt, working hard to get out of it. My HS teacher actually helped me by letting me clean her house once a month and I’d earn $150 in two days because the house was pretty big. I ended up candy-selling more and more days a week and bringing candy boxes home to sell in the neighborhood.

And it seemed to never let up. The numbers did not match. Somehow my debt was always in the $2000s+ but I was making at least $300 a month? My mom finally snapped and said she’d call the cops on the school if something didn’t change. A month later we get the updates to our accounts and the numbers dropped drastically. My Senior Year and I only had a couple hundred dollars left. And the Secretary was suspiciously quiet from then on and kept to herself and left us alone.

Still, I spent the whole time doing candy-selling for them so much, and having to attend church activities for them, that I never got a job. Candy-selling actually brought in more money than what a teen would be allowed to earn anyway. At the time I was so up the church’s ass and scared to make my own decisions that they said I wasn’t capable of making because I was so young, I had already agreed to continue being the church pianist past graduation and they’d agreed to help me fund college so long as I went to the one of their choice with my friends. They had set up my future vocation(teacher in the their school, pianist in their church) and my future husband(Sam most likely) and I wouldn’t have to do anything but follow rules. And as I was scared, I planned to go along with it.

But then they fucked me over a week before Senior Year ended and when June 5th passed and I got my diploma, I peaced out. We changed our phone number, stopped coming to the door when they came by, and ignored their chances at re-connection. And it was months after I got fucked over when they found out they were the ones in the wrong and tried to half ass an apology to me. Didn’t work.

After graduating, my step-dad demanded I get a job finally. Mind you, his failure of a son dropped out of HS & moved to PA with us and proceeded to rely on daddy to do all his work for him. Daddy got him a job at Weis, he faked being sick so much he was fired. Daddy got him another job at Walmart, he took too many days off and he got fired. He moved out of our house and in with his new girlfriend(after milking 3 of their cash already). This one was a trust fund baby(Bree) who was adopted. Her parents paid for her apartment, her nursing education, and gave her a card with $1,000 on it a month for anything she needed. Step-bro moved in and they wasted that whole card name-brand candy in a week. 

She started skipping classes to go out to eat with him. Her parents stopped by to see if she was doing well because the school became concerned over abnormal behavior. They wanted step-bro out of the apartment and the relationship to end because they said he was using her for her money(he was and admitted it to mine and my mom’s faces) and would get in the way of her goals in life. She refused. They said they’d take away her card if she didn’t. Well, they did. And another month went by with no changes and they withdrew the full payments for the schooling too. She dropped out. And finally the apartment a month after that.

So now she’s homeless and step-bro manages to swindle both of them back into our apartment. They have to sleep on the floor in the living room. Daddy got them both jobs at Amazon with him. The pay was pretty fucking good at the time. There was a year in between there where we had money and were contemplating getting our own house for the first time. Things were going well.

Step-dad didn’t try to help me get a job though. I asked for help because my search went nowhere. Those 3 got transportation every day and I was stuck with walking. We lived on a mountain and all businesses were at the bottom 2 miles away, so I applied to all available businesses within 2 miles, either in person or online. Never got any responses. As it was a bust, my mom just said, ‘help clean the house since they’re gone all day and help be my legs to watch your sister and I’ll consider that your rent’. So I did. Every day. And I hated it. And there are a lot of posts on here from then of me complaining about it.

So I asked him for help and he never did. But he would demand to know why I didn’t have a job yet or why the house wasn’t perfectly clean? And I’m like, “Dude, you leave your dirty clothes everywhere. You don’t take your dishes into the kitchen. I clean in the day, you get back in the evening and trash the place and by the morning when you’re gone, it’s all a mess. You only see mess because it’s all you 3 make all day with candy wrappers and soda cans!”

After year he had a seizure on the floor and had to be rushed to the hospital from Amazon. Epileptic issues meant no more work at Amazon because his job was operating heavy machinery and he kept having small seizures weeks later! Without him there every day to keep step-bro and gf on their toes, they started calling in sick together or skipping work with dumb reasons. They got fired soon after. The job hunt was a failure, but daddy was still getting jobs for all of them! Instead of over the table jobs, they now worked under the table, fixing up houses(sheetrock, spackle, insulation, etc...). Still didn’t try and help me get a job. I didn’t know how to do any of that, but gf didn’t either but they taught her how to do it.

Frankly, it got to a point of me being a live-in maid in exchange for me staying under their roof, while step-bro and gf made up excuses to not have to help step-dad. Sick, business, too tired, whatever they came up with. I remained home, handling my sister’s online education with my mom, cleaning the house, handling my sister’s bullies, handling our shitty inspector, and all that crap.

Step-dad takes in a friend of his who was evicted and homeless so he’s sleeping on our other couch at this time. Kind of easy to forget but we felt bad for his situation as it was his girlfriend who fucked him over.

And then step-dad and step-bro opened their mouths on something they should have avoided. In that place we kept to ourselves. There was shady shit going on. Murder, drug deals, drive-bys, etc. Mom and I left them all alone and turned the other way and they left us alone. 19 years in that place. If a cop came by asking questions of the only white person in the joint, she’d go, ‘we know nothing, we saw nothing, sorry’. But step-dad and Junior opened their mouths and one of the newer guys reported the son and gf because they weren’t on our lease. We got evicted after 19 years of good relations with management because someone inserted an opinion in something he should have stayed out of.

So 30 days to gtfo, no one in the house has a real job with consistent pay, we move in with my mom’s uncle for the time being. The house is huge with many bedrooms but to conserve space, I, mom, and my sister bunk in the same room. Mom and Bethy got the bed and I slept on the floor for 2 years. Step-dad don’t know what the eff he’s doing for months. We’re up in buttfuck Egypt. He and the Tweedle dimwits are still doing what they were doing before but now have to drive 3 hours to and 3 hours back just to make it. Mom is doing surveys online to make extra money. She’s trying to do her best while disabled. I’m helping clean the house as my form of payment. The car fails, money that was being saved up to move out, has to go to that. The next one fails too so that has to be handled and we’re in debt now! Christmases and Birthdays are nonexistent. Her Uncle’s new wife isn’t quite so open to us being there and complains a lot.

Step-dad manages to make a deal with a guy he’s working with. He fixes up a house the guy owns, and works for him on more houses after that, and he’ll get a considerably low payment for the rent monthly. He didn’t do much work and lied to mom about what was done and when all was said and done, we moved in and it was a wreck. Worse than it is now but it’s still pretty effin terrible. No kitchen, the bathroom is half-finished still, no insulation, power problems, you name it. It’s bad. But cheap because the lease shows we owe $20 a month instead of $200 because the guy forgot to add a zero when he was drawing up the contract.

Then step-bro and gf manage to convince step-bro’s grammy to move down to PA and rent a house for them to use. They still don’t have jobs, disabled grammy pays for everything. Step-dad’s couch-dwelling friend gets a new gf and moves in with her. Step-dad is driving 3 hours to work and by the time he gets back, he sleeps for 4 hours and then has to leave again. Finally he starts staying at his son’s place because it’s closer and less gas to spend, but that also means he’s taken the car. We’re stranded here with only a mini mart across the street as the only shop for miles! He makes excuses for why he can’t come up. Mom has so many health problems but hasn’t seen a doctor in 5 years because of this. I haven’t seen one in 6. My sister is the only one with regular appointments because they’re necessary for school. If anything, at least she remains unaffected by this crap.

I too have taken to doing surveys now. If I get 500 pts a day that’s a $5 gift card to target which delivers here. One of the few places that do.

I can’t even work at the mini mart because the man has 6 employees for each day of the day. 1 works with him each day but Monday where he works alone because there’s less rush on Mondays.

No matter how I complain it’s not like I can go anywhere. There’s still a roof over my head and I have access to the internet. Even if I’m cold every day, borderline ill, and miserable, it’s better than being on the streets.

Some poor people are very unlucky. We are those people. The ones where everything that can go wrong, will go wrong. Step-dad’s been through 4 cars since coming here cuz they keep breaking down and needing to be fixed. My sister’s been sick every other month. Power goes out a lot.

I cope by whining online.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Better that way Pt. 9 ~ The End

(A/N) This...is the end! It was an amazing journey and it was a lot of fun to write this. I will miss this story, but everything has to come to an end. Anyway, I hope you liked it and thank you all so much for the support! I love you! @kafetschi @dpaccione

Pairing: Shawn Mendes x Reader

Warnings: pregnancy, cheating, possibility of child death

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By the time she did, I’d made my decision. “I’ll stay here.” She smiled and nodded at me, before she left the room again to make the arrangement.

Only a few minutes, I was brought to a room and a about half an hour later, my sister, brother, nephew and brother in law ran into the room. “What happened? The woman on the phone wouldn’t tell me anything!” My sister hugged me. “I would love to say I’m okay, but…you better sit down for this.” They did and I told them everything. They were shocked, but supportive. I was barely finished, when the second doctor came in again and hooked me up to some machines. My siblings agreed that someone should be here all the time and that they would take it in shifts. My sister also called my college to let them know what was happening. She also tried to convince me that I should call Shawn and tell him what was happening, but I refused, not feeling the need to talk to him about any of this.

A few days passed and everything was quiet. My siblings staid true to their word and there was always one of them with me. I’ve been there for half a month now, and nothing has happened. My doctor and I even thought about letting me go home. I’d just have to come to the hospital every two days and get a check-up. Just one day, before I’d be able to go home, I suddenly started to get cramps. My sister immediately called a nurse, who called my doctor. By the time she arrived, I was clenching my teeth in pain. Y/S/N explained what was happening and my doctor checked a few monitors, before she told me to spread my legs. Then, she announced that I was going into labour.

Shawn’s POV

“Let’s take a break.” My agent’s voice was frustrated and I just nodded, leaving the recording room. My phone, which was laying on the couch in the back of the room, lit up and I walked over, picking it up. Y/S/N. I frowned, but quickly picked up, suddenly afraid something could have happened to Y/N. “Shawn? Shawn?!” Her voice was frantic. “I’m here. What’s wrong?” “Please tell me you’re still in the city.” “Y-Yes.” She sighed in relieve and I could hear yelling at the other end. “You need to get to the hospital as quickly as possible. Y/N is in labour.” I lifted my wrist to look at the watch, checking the date, noting it was early for her to be in labour. “So? It’s not my child anyway.” I could hear in her voice that she was frustrated. “They are your children! And there are two of them! Do you really think she would ever cheat on you?!” I didn’t response and she sighed in frustration. “Just move your ass here! Now!” She hung up and it didn’t take me even one millisecond to decide. Without saying anything, I grabbed my jacket and ran out of the building, ignoring the others yelling after me. I jumped into the nearest taxi and was on my way to the hospital.

Y/N’s POV

“We will try natural birth first. If anything happens, we’ll do a c-section, okay?” I nodded, breathing heavily from the last contraction. The room was full with nurses, my midwife and doctor, as well as my sister and brother. My brother in law and nephew were waiting outside. “What were you doing?” My sister had gone outside and I was curious what she had been doing. At least it took my mind off of the pain. “I called mom and dad. They’ll take the next flight.” Our parents had gone on vacation and weren’t here. I nodded, not sure if she was telling the truth, but before I could say anything, another contraction hit me. I screamed out and squeezed my brothers hand, trying to take the pain. It went that way for a few more minutes, before the worst contraction yet hit me. I screamed my lungs out and grabbed at the bedsheets since my brother’s hand was already bruised. But suddenly, someone took my hand in theirs and squeezed it tightly. At first I thought that it was my sister, but I quickly noticed that that hand was too big and the fingertips were callused. I opened my eyes. There, right beside me, was Shawn, holding my hand while he was kneeling on the floor. “Wha-?” Another contraction hit me and the midwife checked how dilated I was. “You’ll need to push now.” I looked at her, scared. She turned to Shawn. “Are you the father?” Without hesitation he nodded. She quickly instructed him to climb into the bed behind me, to help me push. Antagonizing minutes later, a cry sounded through the room. I looked up and felt Shawn shift forward. A nurse took the baby and the cord was cut. Normally, Shawn would do that, but we had to get the other baby out as quickly as possible. I started to push again, until I felt something blob out of me. But there was no crying. “It’s not breathing. Start the resuscitation!” The cord was cut and Shawn and I watched terrified as they tried to bring our baby back to live. I started sobbing and leaned back against Shawn’s chest. His arms wrapped around me, as he tried to calm me down. And then, another cry. I looked up and saw one of the nurses take a relieved step back. It was alive. Tears were streaming down my face, but this time, they were happy tears. While they cleaned the second baby up, a nurse brought us the first one, wrapped in a pink blanket. “It’s a girl.” I chuckled and took my baby girl into my arms. “Hey there…” Her eyes moved over my face until she focused and started to smile. “gaahha” I chuckled. I felt the weight of Shawn’s head on my shoulder and saw his hand move to our daughter’s face, stroking it gently. “I love you. Mommy and Pops love you very much.” I chuckled, but nodded, before I turned to Shawn. “I-.” “Let’s talk about this later. Just…just know that I’ve always loved you and always will.” He quickly pecked my lips, before he pulled away again. “I love you too.” Soon, the second baby was handed to me. It, or rather he, was wrapped in a blue blanket. “A boy.” By the time, Shawn had climbed out from behind me and held our daughter in his arms. Our son was a lot smaller then his big sister and one of the nurses soon took him, telling us that he needs to be in the incubator for some time. Our daughter will be too, but we can take her out more often and she won’t have to stay long. I nodded in thanks and smiled at the nurse. Shawn quickly kissed our son’s forehead, before they put him into the incubator. Then, he turned to me. I tried to talk again, but a nurse told me that she’d help me get cleaned up. She washed me and I was put into some new clothes and a new bed. As soon as that was done, our daughter was also put in an incubator. Now that all the adrenaline was out of my blood, I started to feel the fatigue and my eyes were slowly closing. “Shawn, I…” “Ssshhh. Get some rest. There will be enough time to talk.” I felt the mattress shift, before two strong arms wrapped around me and his lips pressed against my temple. And like that, I fell asleep.

I woke up to people yelling. Shawn was no longer beside me, but instead stood beside the bed. My family, except for my parents were also there. My sister looked mad as hell, but that was nothing compared to Shawn. Opposite of him stood his agent. His face was white and his eyes wide. “Sh-Shawn! I can explain!” “There is nothing to explain! You robbed me of helping my girlfriend through her pregnancy, you robbed me of all those experiences, you nearly robbed me of my children!” He was breathing heavily, his face was flushed and he sent death glares at the older man. “Leave. I don’t ever want to see you near me or my family again.” The agent opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. So he just left. Shawn turned around and saw that I was awake. “Y/N…I’m sorry I woke you up.” I shook my head and lifted my hand towards him. “There is nothing to be sorry for. But I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you.” With two steps Shawn was by my side and grabbed my hand pulling it against his lips. “It wasn’t your fault. You were scared and believed anything anyone would say. I probably would’ve done the same thing.” I smiled again, before I looked down. “Still…I’m sorry.” With his index finger, Shawn lifted my chin and pressed his lips to mine in a loving kiss. “It’s okay.” I smiled and kissed him again. I was so glad everything was revealed, and I had him back.

I had to stay in the hospital for a few more days and Shawn was with me the whole time. My parents also came to visit, loving their grandchildren. The day I could leave, we could take Y/D/N with us. Y/S/N had to stay a bit longer, but we visited with every day. Shawn was able to take some time off of star duty and spend it with me and the kids. Even though we had been separated for more then seven months, it was as if we’d never split. I’d also moved to his place, since mine was still rented out. It was amazing, but soon, Shawn had to go on tour, so I decided that I’d go with him. As well as the kids. It was a lot of fun, but it was also exhausting. But I stuck with him through the tour and we had the time of our lives. When his fans found out that we were together they were split. Some were happy and supported us, others were enraged, but that didn’t stop us. And honestly, it was better this way.

[kokobop-fire]

Gender Reveal {Jeon Jungkook}

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the gifts that I use, algo English is not my first language so sorry for any grammar mistakes.

Gender: fluff

Words count: 2,134

Cravings

"You already decided the name of the baby?" Yoongi asked

It had only been a week since you decided to move with jungkook to his new apartment, and today the guys were available, and they were helping you unpack the rest of your belongings; Jin was helping them for a moment before escaping to the kitchen with Jungkook and starting to cook the rice cake that they were going to give to their neighbors, as tradition says to attract fortune and good luck to their new home.

"No," you placed a hand on your belly, which had grown considerably fast. "I don't even know the sex of the baby yet."

Also, today was the only day that your gynecologist was available at midnight as requested by Jungkook to prevent anyone from recognizing him, and you were in total agreement with him.

"You should call the baby Jimin," Jimin suggests with a big smile. "The name is very used for both sex. Don't you like how Jeon Jimin sounds? "

You tried to avoid the disgust on your face; the name Jimin was a name you always like for a girl but hearing the name with the last name of Jungkook, you didn't like it at all. Luckily Taehyung saved you from having to answer.

"No, if it's a Boy, it has to be called Taehyung." He paused as he placed a bowl of popcorn on the table, "If it's a girl, Taehyuna."

"Are you really serious?" You asked, stunned

"Yes, affectionately we can call her Hyuna, named by her favorite uncle" He dedicates you one of his boxy smiles. Definitely, Taehyung was last in the list of favorite uncles.

"Yeah, that's not going to happen," Said Jungkook sitting next to Namjoon; Namjoon apologized for telling Bang Pd that you were pregnant. Jungkook turned to see Namjoon. "Actually, I wish you were the one to name the baby."

Everyone who was in the room with you was looking at Jungkook surprise. "Jungkook is a nice gesture that you would think of me at the time of naming your baby, but I think that is an exclusive task for parents, but I am available to be the godfather of that baby.”

"What do you feel it will be?" Hoseok asked, sitting next to you

"I want it to be a girl" you came back, caressing the belly. "But call it the instinct of a mother, but I feel it will be a boy, and my mom told me that my belly is as the belly of a baby boy."

"I also want the baby to be a girl," commented Jungkook. "I would give that happiness to my mom to have the girl she never had and finally fulfill her frustrated dreams."

You smiled at that comment; in your family, it was the opposite; your mom and dad wanted the baby to be a boy to fulfill their dreams of a baby boy.

"I bet it will be a boy," Jin said, leaving the kitchen. "The rice cake is ready and packaged for delivery."

"Thanks, Jin" You smiled immensely. If it were not for him, you and Jungkook would have died of hunger on multiple occasions. "But don't bet on the sex of my baby." You stand up with a bit of difficulty on the couch, causing Jungkook to be by your side in a matter of seconds. "Whats wrong?"

"It's an 11:15. I think we should go out to the hospital."

"I'm going for our coats and the camera."

With the arrival of the baby, jungkook decided to make a Golden film dedicated entirely to the baby, and he said that the baby would love the video and more because his father was the director and editor of it.

"(Y / N)" Yoongi's voice interrupted the silence in the room. "Thank you, really thank you for giving Jungkook another chance, he was miserable, and the fans already realized that something was wrong with him."

"Yes, what both of you are doing is really mature, trying to live in peace for the sake of the baby," Hoseok completed; you nodded slightly at his words, you were never very close to Hoseok, or Yoongi and the fact that they were thanking you made you feel strange you were going to answer, but Jungkook arrived, both said goodbye to the boys, and you went out with him.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° The way to the office was quiet, the radio station that was playing was passing an ost special, and Aileen's soft voice almost made you fall asleep more than once.

"Do not you think it's better than everything comes out naturally and with some imperfections?" You asked Jungkook when he asked you to get back into the car and be able to record a better walk from the car to the hospital door, "it's way better to see me as a robot."

Jungkook pursed his lips as he lowered the camera. "You're right" We went back to the silence until we got to the door of the consolatory; the whole wing of the gynecological offices was dark, the corridor was only illuminated by the light of the moon that entered by the large windows "are you sure this doctor is trustworthy?"

"Yes, he is also the gynecologist of all the women in my family; he also brought my sister and me to the world" He nodded at your words.

You knew Dr. Hwang since you were a little girl, and you knew that he was the right person to keep your secret; he had already helped several actresses, idols, and girlfriends of idols to bring their baby to a world without the press finding out or that is what he always said. Several times on the way to the office, your hand with Jungkook's brushed, causing both of you to blush more than once. Before entering, you saw how jungkook lit the camera and told you to open the door, causing you to put white eyes.

"Ready to meet your baby" was the first thing that you received when you opened the door of the office. The daughter and secretary of the doctor received you, giving you a little hug, "I see that the baby has grown a lot since the last time we saw you."

"Well, I took all the vitamins that you prescribed." You answered with a smile, you loved spending time with Tae Hee, and after all, you two grew together. "Tae Hee, I introduce you to Jeon Jungkook, the infamous father of my baby."

"It's a good thing you came back" you sighed heavily, Tae Hee had never been good at meeting new people and always said the first thing that crossed her mind when she met a new person, and the fact that she knew what Jungkook did to you did not help.

"Yes and better than it was now to never miss anything of that baby," Jungkook simply answered

"If you want, I can film so that both of you can come out in the video."

Because the medical career of Tae Hee and yours of cinematography, both distanced themselves and each continued with her way, but the affection that both had remained there although you did not tell her everything that happened in your life as the fact that You told her you were going out with Jungkook until you went for your first ultrasound and told her everything.

"Are you sure you can with the camera?" You asked scared, Jungkook's camera was not cheap, and Tae Hee was known for her butterfingers.

"Sure" She takes the camera from the arms of a quiet Jungkook, who only gave you a look of nervousness. "Well, come in."

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° "And you have had or seen that you have suffered from some physical or hormonal change?" Dr. Hwang continued to ask his routine questions

"Apart from the growth of my belly, no," you responded after thinking for a moment; you still had not undergone any hormonal and physical changes, only the growth of your stomach.

"Well, you know you should do prenatal exercises, either yoga or Pilates" he put your file back on his desk. "Ready to know the sex of the baby?"

You quickly agreed to lie on the stretcher; you were anxious to know the sex of the baby. You watched as Tae Hee stood in the office door trying to get everyone out of the video before approaching and take a shot of your naked belly; you saw as the baby began to kick, "I see someone is awake."

You took Jungkook's hand, causing him to look at you in surprise, you knew it was going to be an emotional moment for him, and you wanted to give him all the possible support. You closed your eyes to feel the cold gel on your belly. Jungkook squeezed your hand. "Here we go."

You were also nervous; It was the first time you saw the baby in 3D, the doctor took about a minute to find the baby's face, you watched the monitor with joy, and Jungkook had a stunning look.

"Everything looks normal," The doctor muttered more to him without taking his eyes off the monitor; you did not pay attention to him since you were watching Jungkook's face. "You want to hear the heart?" Jungkook nodded quickly, and in a few seconds, the room was filled with the baby's heartbeat

The joy returned to your body, and you smiled at Jungkook when you observed how his eyes filled with tears, Jungkook almost never cried, and when he did, it was for a special occasion for him; you returned to squeeze his hand, causing him to look you, he leaned over and gave you a kiss on the forehead. "We're going to have a baby," he whispered against your forehead.

"Yes, we're going to have a baby" You smiled in tears.

"You guys want me to tell you sex already, or you want it to be a surprise" The doctor interrupted you two, taking both out of the bubble.

"Dad, are you serious? They were having their moment, and you ruined it, "Tae Hee scolded her father," Btw, the shots are going very well."

"We would like to know sex now," replied Jungkook. "I think we would go crazy if we don't know."

"Well, congratulations, you two are going to be the parents of a healthy baby boy" the tears came back to your eyes; the fact that it was healthy made you happy and more now that you knew it was a child.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° You got out of the car ready to go to sleep, it was after two in the morning, and you had a little headache from so much crying, but you felt happy that together with Jungkook, you knew you were going to have a boy, you didn't get that far in parking lots when Jungkook wrapped you in a big hug, slowly you hugged him back, and he gave you another kiss on the head.

"Thanks, you don't know how happy you are making me right now," He mutter against your head, causing you to smile again. You continued walking again to the apartment, holding hands; when he opened the door, you found the boys who were still in their apartment. Jin was the first to notice your presence.

"And so what? What is it? "He asks seriously.

You looked at Jungkook to be him to give the good news; he smiled at them before taking the ultrasound picture of his wallet. "He's a boy, and I can proudly say he looks like his father."

You looked offended. "Of course, he doesn't look like you, he looks like a little alien, and he doesn't look like anyone yet," you quickly explained to the boys, but these were happy congratulating their Maknae.

"Who would have thought that the first Bangtan baby was going to be one from Jungkookie," Hoseok said smiling, "and another little bunny, so it seems in the picture."

"The baby doesn't look like jungkook" you were in denial, but deep inside, you knew that the baby was going to have the nose and eyes of his father.

"I always thought that Jin Hyung was going to be the first one because he is an old man now," I annoy him Jungkook.

"When are you going to learn to respect your Hyungs? Karma is going to get you, and it's going to bite you in the ass, "Jin warned, trying to sound annoyed. You said goodbye to them, to be able to message Jisoo and inform him of the news of his nephew's sex, but above all, you were still happy because he was completely healthy and was going to be born surrounded by people who loved him long before his birth.

P.S: if you have a korean name for a baby boy send it to me please, i dont know how to name the baby. thank you