#for context one of my aunts came to visit after years. while i was sleeping

[hesperidia]

i hate surprise visits with a passion but the thing i hate more is my mom complaining about ME to said visits

[selfproclaimedunicorn]

🌟

Thanks for the ask! Lol, it took a while to get to, but I eventually picked something. I am going to gush about Rhea Royce (my beloved) here because with her not having any POVs & all her actions being filtered through her kids' eyes is forcing me to not put a lot of her stuff that's harder to infer on page.

This will be wordy, I apologize in advance. This opened a flood gate I was unaware of.

Starting at the beginning, the opening was originally going to be way different. Before I figured out how I wanted to structure the fic, I had wanted to put a little...idk context? on the relationship with Rhea & Daemon & actually open up way earlier. What we have is a cold open, set a year after the death of Lord Yorbert Royce, where Daemon has been living permanently in King’s Landing for 3 years & its well-established the twins still like him & so Rhea brings them to see him sometimes. The OG opening, however, was going to be The Targaryen Visit after the twins' birth that I reference a few times.

Yorick did not know what that argument had been about, he did not want to burden mother with asking during her visits, but apparently Grandfather Yorbert had slapped Prince Daemon with the back of his hand before both men were wrestling on the high table until they had to be dragged apart. The prince had gone back to King’s Landing, tail between his legs, and only returned after the twins were born: the Targaryen trip to Runestone serving as both King Jaehaerys’s wish to see his great-grandchildren before his death and a way to force the apology of the Lord of Runestone. -- Yorick 3: Black and Bronze

"Now, you said yourself that Owen wasn't opposed to the next child being named for mother, none of that is as awkward as the old king looking you in the eye after you've explained wanting your fist son to have a Royce name, fully knowing he does not understand it, and then saying 'why are you all named like this?' Father told me he practically bit his tongue off to keep from asking why every third Targaryen is named Aegon." Aunt Rina descended into a fit of giggles before snorting, and then starting to laugh harder. A septa came and took Gavyn, letting her fully fold over to keep snickering at the unburied memory. "Oh Seven," she barely managed to get the words out between laughs, "I forgot it was King Jaehaerys!" Ella leaned forward in her chair, her arms rested on her knees. She had not heard the story of this first visit, at least not like this. She knew that Great-Grandfather Jaehaerys and Grandfather Baelon and Uncle Viserys and Aunt Aemma had come to visit when she and Yorick were born, and that all the men had fawned over Yorick…no one had ever said anything about this though. She furrowed her brows, listening quietly as her mother and aunt continued talking. "'What kind of name is Yorick Targaryen?'" Mother said, mocking whichever of father’s relatives had asked the question, "the one I picked." -- Rhaella 2: Family Ties

Ultimately, I am glad I didn't go with that, because a lot of finer details surrounding it have changed since I wrote chapter 1, but it makes some things get lost in the shuffle.

So the marriage.

I kind of make reference to it in the summary, but it's maybe not clear. At the start of things, Rhea was actually totally into the match. Because think about it: he's the grandson of a well-liked monarch, his grandmother was friends with her great-aunt, his dad was set to be heir to the throne (& his brother inheriting after that), his brother is married to their shared cousin who she has a great relationship with, he's her age (which, given Westeros, is kind of a miracle), he poses zero threat to her inheritance, & he's charismatic as all hell. They hadn't met before this, so she was jazzed, honestly! Then the wedding comes & she finds out he had to get drunk to want to sleep with her, he makes it clear the next day he regrets "getting it up and thinking of Westeros," & he resents her for the crime of *checks notes* not being Valyrian.

She did, initially, try to make Daemon like her, but it wasn't going anywhere, even after she obviously got pregnant from ther wedding night. So she abandoned delusion & just decided to match energies, because that's what she's good at. If at first you don't succeed in making your weird, inbred, nepo-baby husband like you...clap back. As soon as she didn't roll over & try even harder to make him like her/appease him, they mostly just fought or ignored each other, & things didn't really start deteriorating to the point we see in fic (and in 5 minutes of episode 5) until 1: a physical fight with Yorbert & 2: the twins were born not exactly how Daemon envisioned (see: both male & Distinctly Only Valyrian Looking).

Rhea has, pretty much, made peace with having a marriage of Mutual Resentment, but she still struggles with wanting more/better on occasion. Which, y'know, fair. She's been put in an incredibly exhausting situation of being a married single mom to 2 kids, & yet she really only gets to spend time with 1 because her selfish prick of a husband only sees their son as a tool to get what he wants.

“He insists on taking our son and doesn’t even spend enough time with him to know that’s horse shit?! Seven hells, why am I surprised? Why am I surprised?” Mother put her forehead in her hand, rubbing her temples with her fingers and thumb.

“The same reason everyone always is, the want for something better to be in him.” -- Rhealla 3: Bronze Fury

She isn't heartless or infallible, she wants, at the very least, partnership. She's not carrying any torches for him, but just the smallest crumb of (casual) intimacy & care would be nice. She still wants better than what she has.

There's also some projection issues. They're mostly minor (nothing as delusional as what Viserys has going on within my fic), & she's willing to listen to reason in regard to them, but they're there. Making peace does not mean coming out unscathed. 🤷🏻‍♀️

"With this kiss, I pledge my love, and take you for my lady wife."

While Elenda echoed Borros’s vow, Yorick glanced at his mother as she mumbled something under her breath. Her eyes were down, although he was not sure if they were on his brother in her lap or the floor, and her tight lips were curled ever so slightly.

"I think he will be good to her," Yorick whispered, "knowing Borros has been a comfort.” Lady Rhea looked at him, her face relaxing into a sad, gentle smile. As she looked back at Borros and Elenda, their lips parting with her focus finally returning to the ceremony, she squeezed Yorick’s hand. -- Yorick 4: Toppled Tower

Stuff like this is totally chill. Get reassured that "hey, this guy is fucking normal, he'll probably be at least friends with his wife" & just relax into knowing they'll be happy at least. It's all copacetic. She's a little less chill later...

"I had not intended for the confrontation to take quite that direction, regardless, there are still things we must discuss," Uncle Viserys walked towards them as he spoke, "in an effort to keep Daemon away from the throne, I will be naming Rhaenyra as my heir."

"And I will swear fealty to her, of course. You've no need to worry about my loyalties." Mother replied.

"Of course I have no reason to worry! And I suppose formalities must not be overlooked, even in the face of a betrothal. How would it look to the other Lords of The Realm if you were exempt, after all?" He said with a chuckle, good humor returning with each word he spoke.

"Betrothal?"

"Between Yorick and Rhaenyra."

"Oh!" Something akin to panic entered Lady Rhea’s amber eyes, and she faltered over her words for a moment before continuing. "Apologies, Your Grace, I thought Lord Boremund already told you."

"Told me what?"

"Last year we spoke of betrothing Yorick and Shireen. He spent so much time with you that I assumed he must have mentioned it. I would have said something before now had I known he left the matter to me." Ella fought to keep her face neutral as her mother lied. Why was she telling him this? She and Yorick were not going to have to get married, things like this could wait. -- Rhaella 5: First Blood

She basically sees a genderswapped version of her life flash before her eyes & voluntarily goes down into the trenches in order to fight for Yorick not to marry Rhaenyra. It's a baseless (if successful) attempt to save him from what she got saddled with: a marriage of mutual resentment. He and Rhaenyra are friends, they've only ever liked each other, but the fear was still there because "this is what happens when a Targaryen marries An Outsider," & mom instinct takes over. Imo: she did save him because a Yornyra marriage would be toxic as hell, but in universe no one fucking knows that. She just politically shot herself in the foot for zero reason.

Y e a h.

Rhea Royce, my beloved. She is the more functional parent who cares for her kids & tries to set healthy boundaries & give them functional relationships to people (& their dragons), but she has layers. Layers of resentment & complex love & long dead pining & irrevocably screwed up perceptions of things. She loves her family, she hates her husband, she wants something from him but she doesn't even know what that is anymore.

Your honor, I love her.

[leafletonline]

cw family abuse/neglect, ableism So my grandma has Alzheimer's and our family's known that her mental health wasn't doing fantastic for a little while but today I had a long phonecall with my mom and it really hit me how cold, cruel and devoid and empathy this family is. My grandma is 91, she's a sweet little French woman that never did any harm to anyone that I know of, or that I could witness in my own lifetime. She's not too talkative but she always had a smile and a warm hug for me when she came around. She read me stories when we came to see her - I still vividly remember the tone of her voice as she soothed me to sleep. She cooked lovely meals for us and we went for a walk together in the afternoons. The fact that she has Alzheimer's is not a happy notion, but it's something that I'm somewhat at peace with - it's the unfortunate, sad reality of being 91 years old. When you have a relative *this* old, you're grateful they're still around one more day, one more week to answer the phone - you know their health is only going to decline from that point onward. When I was younger, I thought that mental illness was one of the worse things that could happen to you, which is certainly a very stock-standard brand of ableism. I thought that getting Alzheimer's or Parkinson's, or being schizophrenic, were horrible fates, arguably worse than death. (If I had known that I was *just* a pinch of neurodivergence away from being put in the same basket as these people I considered with such contempt...)

But now, I find myself terribly upset, not at the fact that my grandma has Alzheimer's, but at how terribly alone she's being made, not by her disability or advanced age, but by the people around her (or lack thereof). For years, her condition has been getting worse - it's become harder to communicate with her, to exchange and interact with her. She walled herself slowly, but steadily in silence and soliloquy, and for many years my family (my parents, my grandpa, and my various aunts and uncles) chalked it up to her being hard of hearing and "just getting old". She spent the better part of the last 20 years living on her own with my grandpa, occasionally receiving a visit from family, but not being particularly active physically or intellectually aside from that. And now that her disability has progressed to the point where she can't function anymore, now that she's lost in a permanent out-of-context monologue and she's confusing the Scrabble board for a crossword grid and trying to melt whole sticks of butter in the microwave (both of these things actually happened and I don't think there's anything funny about either), the only response that seems to exist for my family is to institutionalize her. For the last 2 decades, the Responsible Adults in this family made little to no effort to actually make sure that her mental health was good, that she was cognitively engaged and kept active (things that are terribly important to maintain as people grow older, especially when they're at risk of Alzheimer's and similar disabilities) - but after leaving her to her own devices for so long with so little help and support, and so little efforts being made, suddenly, she's a burden that Just Can't Be Handled anymore and she needs to be sent to rot away. Every single component of this family leaves relatively far away from one another - we're spread across like, 4 or 5 different regions of France. In hindsight, I find it astounding that, even though there was no Bad Blood in our family between my grandparents and their children (they all get along and love each other! You'd think it'd be something rare enough to cherish!!), no efforts were made by my parents, aunts & uncles to make sure *someone* would be around my grandparents as they settle into old age, making sure to check on them a couple times or at least once a week, especially considering that some of my aunts & uncles bought some random property in the middle of nowhere when they retired. My family had every opportunity to get closer and extend solidarity, and create an environment where things like getting Alzheimer's or just experiencing the melancholy of feeling old and lonely and isolated (which is something my grandpa told me about many times during phonecalls) could be helped with by being surrounded with at least one or two attentionate family members.

Now that grandma is very, very visibly disabled, the prospect of welcoming her into my parents' or my aunts' homes seems like it'll never seriously be put on the table. My grandma's getting easily confused and startled and she seems to often think that other people are plotting against her, which my mom chalks up to mental illness, and which I'd personally be prone to at least partially blame on how conflictual everyone around here is being constantly. My mom told me that grandma threw stuff at her when they played Scrabble. I asked her why, and she told me that it was because Grandma kept "playing the game wrong" and she, mom, kept trying to correct her and eventually took her pen away from her. Can you imagine how humiliating and mortifying it must feel to have your things snatched away from you by your own daughter as she's scolding you on how to "do things correctly" but in your mind, you were playing a completely different game and you just have no idea what she's talking about? There doesn't seem to be any kindness, any patience around her. Grandpa constanlty bickers and argues with her and it seems like she's constantly corrected and snapped at like a disobedient, turbulent child. She doesn't want to go to medical appointments or to leave her home, so the solution for my family is just to institutionalize her. They fail to see how, in achieving the exact two things she *doesn't* want done to her and that she has vocally and explicitly demanded not to be done to her, they might just condemn her to a miserable, terrifying and infinitely lonely end. She said that she didn't want to leave, so they're not going to welcome her into their own homes, because "that's not what she wants" - but they think it's perfectly fine to institutionalize her by force. If you're going to pluck her away from her own home without her consent (which, in all fairness, *might* be necessary because Grandpa is 100% unfit to help if she accidentally harms herself or gets herself into danger, which is unfortunately possible, and my family doesn't seem to realize or want to consider that there are at-home helping medical assistance support systems that exist in France for these specific situations), wouldn't it be infinitely better if she was surrounded in familiar faces, instead of total strangers and medical personnel that'll rule her daily activities and decide what she gets to do for her? "But she might hurt herself, she could set fire to the house". She's a small, elderly woman. Put the cutlery and potentially dangerous stuff on the top shelves and lock them with a key. I could do that easily and your house is literally 7x the size of my apartment. "She could get herself lost." Just lock the door and go out with her when she wants to go for a walk. You're retired and you literally spend your entire day at home playing with your grandson. You have nothing else to do with your time. She's 91. For you, it's only a few weeks or months of inconvenience. For her, it's all she has left. All she has left in the confused, foggy, crumbling tower of her mind is the difference between being surrounded in loved ones, hearing voices, seeing faces that she knows to be warm and kind to her heart, or being locked in a shithole with complete strangers where she'll get Covid and probably die in a matter of months, stranded on a cold, dark rain-battered island. How little fucking room do you have to have in your heart to even consider the second option when you have all the commodities around you for the first one to be, *at worse*, at temporary annoyance - if really you can't stand having a confused old woman around and stopped harboring any love in your heart for her once she became classified as a Crazy Woman?

I'm just so upset. It's unfair. She hasn't done anything to deserve this. She doesn't have the black plague, she's not going to bite your ear off. You couldn't be bothered to check on her more than a couple times per year and now that she can't keep care of herself anymore, you won't even afford her the decency of a peaceful end. I feel extremely powerless - I've been calling them very regularly, but I don't have the money to change anything to this situation, and we physically can't welcome her in our cramped 3rd-floor apartment. Besides calling her every single fucking day so she at least has someone to talk to that won't yell at her the second she goes off-script, someone that addresses her with kindness. If you have relatives in your life that you love and that were good to you, make sure you're around for them as they get older if you can. Don't leave them alone to dry.

[thatweirdoleigh]

Socks (but i finish the fic)

Elijah Mikaelson x reader

Warnings; Eli’s a good husband, and the reader cries oh yeah and reader’s pregnant

a/n ; Here is the full thing!! Cause its cute and for once i actually like the thing that i made. 

Imma tag the people i think will enjoy this.

My moms  @elijahs-wife​ @hellotvshowtrash

The Murder aunts; @mikaelson-emma​ @dumble-daddy​

Other Family Members that i don’t really talk to but love and appreciate anyway!;  @xxwritemeastoryxx​  @ronniemikaelson​ @lady-salvatore @thatfanficstuff @zodiyack @auroracalisto​ @dizzydancingdreamer​ @imaginearyparties​ @alwaysfangirlingish​ 

The giggles of his sisters echoed through the halls and into the entry way as Elijah opened the front door and stepped into his family home. Hope’s laughter and the laughter of his brothers and their wives joining shortly after. Rebekah was telling stories again, of all the mishaps, mistakes and schemes from over the centuries. It made him smile. Today was a good day.

After everything that had happened over the centuries, particularly the past several decades, it seemed like a dream come true to finally feel like a family again. To feel the same humble happiness that they felt when they were all still human. Like touching the stars with their bare hands. So he savored the memories and the joy and the rest that it brought to himself and those he cared so dearly for.

Walking into the parlor he was greeted by the warm welcomes of his family.

“Brother!” Klaus, all but beamed, “Welcome home!” A chorus of welcome home and welcome back echoed behind him.

Elijah grinned, wholeheartedly approving of the laid back posture of his younger brother, his arm slung over the back of the couch behind the witch that Klaus had fallen in love with. It was a stark contrast to the rage and paranoia that plagued him for so many years. “Its good to be home!”

“How was your meeting with the contractor brother?” Finn queried, far more subdued than the others. Even though they had all forgiven him, and profusely apologized for 1000 years of pain, Finn still didn’t feel like he quite belonged with the rest of his family. A fact Elijah had been eager to fix once the realization had set in of exactly how shitty their treatment of him was. Courtesy of Camille, of course. However 900 years in a coffin is not forgotten overnight, so it was still a work in progress. So it further proved to warm Elijah’s heart when his eyes laid upon Finn and found him squished between Freya and Kol’s firecracker of a fiancé, instead of locked in his room.

Elijah smiled at Finn and placed his suit jacket over the back of an unoccupied chair, “It was good. We got all of the final details and planning done and now its we are just waiting for the town to give us a building permit”

“that’s good” Finn replied with a nod.

For context, Y/n was pregnant with Elijah’s child, a miracle given in the form of a spell cast as a wedding gift and created by Kol and Klaus’ wife. Y/n had all but declared that she wanted their children to have as normal lives as physically possible and while the Mikaelsons were hesitant to go along with this plan, it was agreed that perhaps living in a mansion with 4 witches, 6 vampires, and 3 hybrids was not a normal childhood. So it was agreed that they would own a separate family home to raise their children in while still visiting as often as physically possible.

As Elijah looked around and took in the the scene around him he noticed that y/n was not among his siblings and so begged the question as to where was his darling wife?

“If I may ask, where is y/n?”

It was Kol’s fiancé that pipped up. “She came rushing in with a bag, declared that she was going to enjoy her new socks and then she was taking a nap, You know how my twin is Elijah, she gets excited over the simplest things, and then she ran upstairs without another word. Imagine she is asleep by now. Probably has been for a while. ”

Elijah smiled and Keelin looked at her curiously, ”Socks?”

Elijah cleared her confusion “Yes Keelin. Socks. Its seems that my darling wife has developed an affinity for collecting and wearing the most colorful knee-high socks she can find”

“It is rather amusing to watch auntie y/ns excitement.” Hope testified from where she had tucked herself under her father’s other arm. “She rambled on about a pair she had found with neon green strips, all while eating a plate of bacon in the kitchen the other day”

Everyone laughed at the image, and Elijah just shook his head with mirth in his eyes, ”yes well, if you don’t mind I am going to join my wife and unborn child in bed. Goodnight to you all” and a chorus of goodnights followed him down the hall.

As Elijah climbed the stairs he couldn’t help but be reminded of how grateful of all of the things that life has granted him over the years. He had a beautiful wife that loved him and siblings that adored him and soon he would have children of his own.

As Elijah approached the door to his bedroom he couldn’t help but notice something was wrong. Stopping to listen he could hear sniffling and shaky breathes just beyond the door way.

“y/n?” he took the handle and pushed the door open.

There sitting in an armchair in the corner of their room was y/n. She was wearing one of Elijah’s Cambridge sweatshirts and a pair of his boxers. The sweatshirt was cream in color and it matched cream colored socks she held in her hand. While Elijah would normally fawn over how adorable she looked round with his child and dressed in his clothes he was more focused on the tears stains that and puffy red eyes that decorated the face of the love of his life.

Elijah was quick to kneel in front of her and cup her face in his hand “Y/n? Baby what’s wrong? Are you alright?” He placed his other hand on her belly and searched for some kind of injury to suggest that she was hurt.  

She looked at him with a watery smile, kissed his hand and said “I found a pair of socks that would match my favorite one of your sweatshirts and I got so excited to wear them.”

She held up the socks and gestured to her feet. “But I cant reach, so I cant put them on. And it made me so sad that I cried.”

Elijah’s face relaxed and he gave a sigh of relief, realizing it was something simple that he could easily fix. So he gently took the socks from her hands and unfolded them so he could put them on her. He rolled them up and then pulled them all the way up her legs to just below her knees and then gave a kiss to her nose. “there “ he whispered. “all better.”

“thank you ‘lijah.” She mumbled and then yawned.

“Oh. I think its bedtime.” He stated playfully.

“Im pregnant not two.” She grumbled with another yawn.

Elijah looked at her with nothing but adoration and said “baby you just cried over a pair of socks.” In response she pouted and Elijah couldn’t help but smile. 

“Alrighty. Bedtime!” He said scooping her up bridal-style. 

“you can’t be serious!” y/n scoffed. 

“Dead serious!” 

“Eli!” she whined, “don’t make puns when im annoyed at you! Then I can’t enjoy them!” 

Elijah only laughed, and then slowly spun her around in a circle. “wheeeeeee!” he said before gently tossing her on the bed. 

y/n looked up at her husband in exasperation as she watched him use vampire speed to strip to his underwear and climb onto the bed like a leopard on the prowl.  

“I love you.” he purred pressing a kiss to her swollen belly, eyes playfully looking up at her. 

She raised an eyebrow, “Me? Or your children?”. 

“Both” he replied, gently coercing her backwards onto the bed as he crawled farther up her body his hands rubbing circles into the sides of her stomach. y/n rolled her eyes and chuckled her amusement as he enveloped her in another kiss. 

Sighing happily y/n ran her hands through Elijah’s hair, as he eagerly deepened the kiss. However Elijah had to stop this blissful moment rather short. 

He furrowed his brow and pulled back slightly so he could see his wife’s eyes, “Children?” he questioned. “plural?” 

Now it was y/n’s turn to grin playfully. 

“I went to the doctors today.” She said eyes twinkling with mischief. “And i learned something rather interesting.”  

Elijah narrowed his eyes, recognizing that she was toying with him. “did you now?” 

“I did” she purred rubbing her hands down his neck and shoulders. “Apparently twins are not always magical miracle coincidences. More often than not they are genetic.” and as her smile grew bigger so did Elijah’s. “And considering that I am half of a set, I’d say the trait has passed on.” 

Elijah’s grinn was getting bigger by the second. “you mean to tell me. That not only am I getting one daughter.” he leaned in closer until their noses were touching. “I’m getting two?” 

“yes” she whispered seductively and elijah expressed his joy by kissing her again. 

“And do you wanna know what else I learned?” y/n said slyly as he trailed his kisses down her throat. He grunted quietly for her to continue and y/n leaned up and murmured in his ear, “Both of your ‘daughters’ are sons” 

Elijah groaned and pulled back up to her face, “damn. I was really hoping was really hoping for a mini you.” he admitted swallowing y/ns laughter in another kiss. 

Y/n pulled him to lay beside her as they both got under the duvet and settled comfortably for bed. y/n lay on her side facing Elijah and he buried his face in her hair his hands finding their way to her rounded abdomen, joyful and excited to meet his children in the nearby future. 

“Eli?” she said softly. “will you sing to me?” she asked looking up at him. 

“Of course, My love” and so Elijah sang the same nordic lullaby his mother taught him all those years ago and they both drifted off to sleep. 

[huearmy]

The Smell of Truth - II

Summary: After years being forced to fight in clandestine hybrid ring, Jungkook is now living in shelter, but life remains bad, the place is abusive, and nobody seems to want adopt him. Until one night a pro-hybrid activist group invades the shelter, and a woman in black smelling like truth promises that things will get better, and he decides to follow her wherever she goes.

Pairing: pitbull!Jungkook x human!Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, future smut maybe.

Words: 3291

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: N/A.  Jungkook continues to be just a cute pie here ok dont touch me.

Chapter I  -  Chapter III  Chapter IV  Chapter V  Chapter VI Chapter VII

You have always been enchanted by hybrids. You grew up surrounded by them, they were friends and family. Literally. For exemple, your favorite uncle adopted your cousin, a cat hybrid, when you were five and she was three, he and his wife wanted a second child but could't have one biologically anymore, and you got a friend as a gift. You never saw your cous being treated diferently from her older sister, indeed they were equaly loved by the whole family. You two would run and play for hours together. 

You learned some diferences between you and hybrids when living with your cousin in childhood. The first one was that you, unfortunately, don't have fluffy beautiful ears and tail like they do, more than once your mother needed to comfort you before going to sleep cuz you were crying, wanting to be cute too. The second was that you were always at a disadvantage in games like hide and seek and tag you it, but you still had fun. The third is that hybrids can't go to school like normal kids. Until a certain age you were home schooled, taking classes with a tutor, when you turned eleven things changed a little bit, and you started studying at an elite college. Your world expanded, you started to study more hours a day and met new people, new teachers, classmates, you made new friends that gradually showed you a cruel world that you didn't know. Most of your friends were also daughters of politicians and entrepreneurs, just like you, and just like you, they grew up surrounded by hybrids. But while they were family to you, to your classmates they were butlers, maids, pets. Soon you started to understand the injustice of it all, of why you were bullied when you talked about your cousin, why you didn't like to go to some friends' house where you would see them treating their hybrids coldly. 

The last straw came when you were fourteen, more specifically your birthday. Until then you kept your friends from meeting your cousin, for fear that the situation would be strang, but it was you birthday, you wanted all your friends in your sleepover, including her. At the beginning of the night you were apprehensive, but your friends did nothing but find your cousin cute and be kind to her, so you relaxed. Everything was going well until one of her best friends decided that she liked your cousin so much that she was going to "ask her father to buy her".Your cousing didn't understand at the time, it was the first time that she was treated as something and not as a person. You were so angry that the party ended right there, most girls left, even though it was two-thirty in the morning. Days later you were expelled from school for getting involved in a fight and assaulting one of the girls who used the wrong word to define your family. You went back to school at home, with the best private tutors, and the world outside was no longer so beautiful. That's how you, already in college, joined a radical activist group for the sake of hybrids.

The concept of owning someone was disgusting for you, that's why you never adopted any hybrid, just fought to free them, in and out of law.That's why you don't recognizes yourself in the decision of getting Jungkook home. But here are you, driving your SUV with him sitting next to you in the passenger's seat. You want the best for each hybrid you have ever rescued, but never before have you been so involved that you are directly responsible for one as you are now doing with him. 

Jungkook have followed you to your car, where you gave him a oversized hoodie of yours to wear - the nigth got cold - and snacks that you had prepared for your trip back home. He was really entertained comparing flavors of three diferent chips, that he didn't even noticed when your black outlaw clothes are gone, replaced by a summer dress in a cardigan. Well, he couldn't remember the last time he had a chance to eat chips, it was probably when he was a kid, and there weren't that many flavors. Of couse, he was refraining from asking you too many questions, that were filling your head like: How is house? Will it be long before we arrive? Do you live with someone else? Do you have other hybrids? Do you do these jobs every night? ... But he kept silent, like a good boy.You said the drive to your city would take about two hours, that he could sleep, but he wanted to keep awake and looking out the window at the landscape, the trees he had never seen so many together and other cars, once in a while passing by with their lights on. It would be beautiful during the day too, he thought. The music playing softly on the radio is also cool.

"Ok." You brake the silence. "We have sometime before we get home, we can talk and get to know each other until then."

Jungkook took a sip of his soda before answering. 

"To know each other?"

"Yeah. Like a  game where we tell things about ourselves and ask each other something..."

"Got it. How do I win this game?" Jungkook got excited.

"It wasn't supposed to be a competition." You laughed, and then got thoughtful. "If you make a question you got one point. If you tell a fact about yourself without being asked you got two points..."

"Whoever has the most points wins. Ok." Jungkook softly clapped his hands with a happy soud coming from his mouth, the gesture doesn't go unnoticed by you. You showd him where to find paper and pen in the glove compartment for him to write down the points. In one side of the page he writed your initials and in the other, his - JK.

"I go first. Hummm... My full name is Y/N Y/L/N and I'm twenty-three. And you, what' is your age?"

"Woaaaa, Y/N! You already have five points, you are good at it." Jungkook excitedly wrote down your points, already thinking about what to say. "I'm twenty-two, but not for long, my birthday is in september. I'm a virgo. What's your sign?"

"Y/S." You responds. "You are into zodiac?"

"Not exactly. But it was a fact about me." Jungkook smile to you making you look away from the road for a moment longer than insurance so you can look at the dimples under his eyes. "Among these three chip flavors, which is your favorite?" "Both cheddar and bacon, I can't choose between them" You answered without hesitation. "Actually I love cheddar and bacon in any context. Did you decided wich one you like the most?"

Jungkook thoughtfully compared the chip packs.

"Nope. I like them all together. I like sweets more. Do you live with someone else?" Jungkook took the courage to ask something that was really on his mind.

"No, is just me in my apartament. But theres always a friend or relative visiting me, almost everyday. " 

Jungkook he felt a confusion of feelings, he did not know if he should be happy or disappointed that you lived alone, and as a result, that he will live only with you. It would be nice if you live with siblings or your parents if they are good like you, but at same time if they are bad he prefers to be with just you.

"How is your family?" He asked before you could make your next question.

"They are great." You said, your tone of voice and eyes ligthing up with affection. "I'm single child, but my family is quite big. We are all focused on progressive thinking of liberating hybrids. That's why I'm part of activist groups ... Of course, only I do this more clandestine work, and my mother doesn't even know. She would be crazy worry. You will like them I think. I have like six cousins, two girls and four guys... Oh my God, they will tease me so much for bringing a boy to live with me..."

Clearly your family is a trigger for you to talk non-stop. Jungkook concluded that your family must be really cool, for you to like them so much, making him wanting to know them too. It got him a little nervous. What would them think about him? Your talking makes your family look amazing, while he’s no big deal. Worse than being uninteresting is not being liked, and there are really bad things about him ... More bad than good things actually. Your family not liking him is scary, and thinking that you might know about his bad past and not liking him any longer suddenly made him anxious. 

You were bragging about your great-aunt's cooking skills when noticed Jungkook got too quiet.

"You are ok, Jungkook?"

He looked at you awkwardly, eyes round like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Yes."

"Sorry I talked too much." You let a weak laugh out, feeling embarrassed. "Is your turn now. Go ahead."

Jungkook looked through the window, avoiding looking to you.

"I don't know what else I have to say... You already won anyway." He showed you the score, your inicials with no space left to write down points. 

"Oh I bet you have a lot of things to say."

"Not good things." Jungkook dared to say, already regretting it as soon as the words left his mouth.Your voice softned.

"You don't need to tell me anything you are not ready to tell. Even if you're never ready. But I know that you are a person, and people are made up of many things, not just bad things." A moment of silence followed, you thinking about the next thing to say. "If you don't want to talk about past things... Lets talk about the future. What do you want to have for lunch tomorrow?"

________________________________________________________________

At some point Jungkook finally fell asleep. You drove an entire hour alone, slowly sipping an energy drink, his soft snores beside you not letting you forget about his presence. Everything you want is to sleep too, your eyes heavy, your body numb. You were thinking of it an how you would be in your bed about time, in your fluffy pijamas and warm socks, when blue and red lights appeared in your rear view mirror.

 You pulled over and waited to the cop to come closer to lower the window

."Good nigth, officer." 

You greeted in a low voice.The man just nodded writing down your license plate. 

"Do you know why I made you pull over?" He said, louder than you.

"No, sir." You calmly answered, shrugging. "I was not above the speed limit and my tail lights are ok."

He made an approving sound.

"Papers please."

You turned on the light and reached out to get your documents from the glove compartment, making Jungkook open his sleepy eyes with a groan.

"Y/N?" He called with a pout. The ultimate pout."Shhh. Keep sleeping, babe. We didn't arrived yet."

He obeyed immediately, leaning his head on the window, and you can tell he didn't really wake up in the first place. He was with his cap and hoodie on, so the cop couldn't see his ears and know he is a hybrid. And theis way is better, you thought. 

"Your boyfriend?" The cop asked while analyzing your driver's license.Time to improvise with your acting skills.

"Kind of." You timidly put a lock of hair behind your ear.He scanned the trash in the car."Any alcohol?"

"No, sir. Just energy drink and soda." You smiled.

He did the breathalyzer test on you anyway. 

Since it didn't point to guilty results, you were released to continue your journey.

 You took a deep breath, glad he didn't asked to inspect the car, he would surely find something that would link you to the terrorist act against the shelter, as the newspapers would for sure report the next day.

The good part is that forging Jungkook's adoption document in your name with a date prior to the rescue will be super easy, as the shelter's records blew up in the explosion. That thought made you relax and start driving normally. ________________________________________________________________

"Jungkook. Jungkook wake up." You shook his shoulder, his sleep too heavy. His head fell forward, making him jump in his spot, blinking heavily, the ultimate pout making another appearance. "We arrived, Jungkook."

Jungkook slowly regained consciousness, seeing you standing outside the car, beside him, holding the door open for him to get out.

"We're at home?." His face got bright.

"Yeah. Come."

It was a courtyard at the back of a small old building, it was still early in the morning, the sky was still dark and no one in town was awake. You turned on the car alarm, and guided a still sleepy but very attentive to the details of the new place, Jungkook, to the back door of the building, taking the bunch of keys out of his pocket - of your hoodie that he was wearing. He liked the proximity, the soud of the keys and the smell of the place. Actually the smell was pretty amazing, specially when you opened the door and everything inside got your smell, and others good things.

 You noticed his nose working in the air and laughed.

"Is a flower shop. Do you like it?" You asked.

Something made sense to Jungkook, it's not that the place smelled like you, you smelled like flowers because of the place.

"Yeah. Is pretty good." He said still sniffing the air.

"On the first floor we have the shop, on the second the shop office and a photo studio that I rent to a friend... And on the third and fourth is our home." You tell him as you go up the stairs, he following you closely. "Early on, both the store and the office are open, but this should not be a problem if you want to sleep till late."

"Ok."

You two whispered up to the third floor, a small corridor with two doors on one side and windows on the other. You stepped forward to the first door, the entrance to the living room and struggled to fide the rigth key in the dark. 

Jungkook noticed a faint light coming from under the door and a murmur inside. There was someone in there. He got alert and slightly apprehensive.

You finally oppened the door and got inside, dropping your heavy bag on the floor, the keys in the corner table, kicking off your boots. Jungkook got inside with short steps, looking around cautiously, looking for the person who would ambush you both. The light was the TV... He smelled a cat. 

"Y/n?" A sweet and sleepy voice reached your ears, a little form lifted on the couch. A sniffing soud and the sweet voice got hostile. "Who is this?"

"Yeri, you are here." You smiled, not really caring for the mood changing of her. Jungkook stepped behind you a little. "This is Jungkook. Jungkook, this is Yeri, my cousin."

"Hi." Jungkook tryied.

"What's he doing here? You never brought anyone home ..."

And by anyone she meant hybrids, and Jungkook knows it. He couldn't see her face in the dark, just her luminous cat eyes with vertical pupils, the dominant presence of those who had their territory invaded radiating from her. 

"There is always a first time I guess." You say, still ignoring the awkward atmosphere, taking off your cardigan and hanging it on the rack behind the front door. "Are you in the guest room?"

Yeri got up and turned off the TV.

"No. I'm sleeping with you."Clearly she didn't trust Jungkook yet. If you bet, she was ready to sleep in the guest room, but now she decided to sleep with you to protect you from the stranger. 

"Ok." You said.

"Ok." She said. 

She turned on the light in the corridor, taking a few steps to the top floor, with bare feet and cute pijamas, and then stopped looking at Jungkook. Now he could see her face. The scariest cat he has ever seen. "Welcome to the family." And than she disappeared up the stairs.

Jungkook gulped, not sure what to think about it.

"She liked you." You told him, putting a hand in the small of his back.

"How do you know?" He asked you with round eyes.

"She didn't say she disliked you." You smiled. "Yeri is pretty honest about her feelings."

You took him to a room in the hall, with a messy cat-smelling bed in the middle, an empty desk and an armchair close to the window, and an empty closet. Beside the bed on the floor was an open handbag , with women's clothing showing up.

"She said she wasn't going to sleep here..." Jungkook pointed.

"Yeah, she lied about it. She wouldn't let me put you to sleep on the couch, though..." You went down the hall and came back with another blanket. "Aaaand, this will be your room. You'd better get used to it."

You fixed the sheets and changed the blanket and pillowcases, probably to help with the cat smell, odorless bedding help to make the bed more of him.

"That's what I can offer you for now, after all I wasan't expecting to adopt you. We can fix it later." You tiredly said, picking Yeri's bag from the floor.

"Ah... Don't worry.". Jungkook wanted to say he was already happy with what he got, that being adopted in firts place was more than he expected, that he was greatfull of your caring so far. But he couldn't find the words to put in on.

"Good, bucause I'm dead tired... I need to sleep, and you do too." You gave him a pat in his back, and went to the door. "If you need it, theres a bathroom in the end of the corridor. Good night." And than you closed the door behind you.

Jungkook waited for the sound your staps desapeard to start moving and breathing again. He was in his room! He ran to the window and opened the curtains a little to see outside, it seemed to be a main street in a small town, but Jungkook had never stepped in a small town before to have reference. He tryied the armchair and conclued it was confortable enouth to take a nap on it. The closet was big enough for him to fit in - he tested it - another possible place for good naps. With leaps of joy he imagined all the things he could kept there, the clothes and shoes he didn't have yet but dream of having. Fantasizing about when you were going to take him to shopping, he put the hat on one of the top shelves and closed the double doors carefully, to make any noise. And then threw himself on the bed, scenting the sheets, sighing contentedly. He took off his shoes and placed beside the bad, his wallet in the nigthstand - open like a picture frame, showing the photo of two hybrid little boys embracing and smiling - , and the suffed bunny lying next to him with it's own pillow.

All in this room felt so real to him, as much as your smell. If you said it will be his room so it's true, because se believe in you, and he is so happy.With the thought of a bright future with you Jungkook finally fell asleep again.

___________________________________________________________

Tag list: @stayunderthelights​ ​  @deolly​ @panconte​

___________________________________________________________

Thakyou!!! Let me know if you liked it... <3 <3 <3 This is a sub blog so I wont respond coments, but I read it all.

[defiantsuggestions]

hi, anon who sent the privacy invasion ask:

i did think about ur suggesting and yeah, you're right, that wasn't appropriate language to use for that particular situation, or at all really.

everything else still stands tho, and i think it hurt more bc she usually didnt snoop around like that to my knowledge. horrible as she was, she never took my stuff without asking, and was generally fine with leaving my personal stuff alone.

so when she did that it was a huge breach of trust, especially since i had felt that she would never do that.

another story, similar cw's apply here:

recently, a while after i escaped her house to go to my paternal grandmother, i went to visit my maternal grandmother for the weekend.

it was 2 am, and i was trying to go to sleep, and i left my sketchbook out on the table bc i had been doodling a little.

she walked over to me to tell me to go to bed, when she noticed my sketchbook. just when i had closed my eyes, i heard paper rustling, and i snapped awake immediately.

she was sitting at my feet, looking through my personal, PRIVATE sketchbook, without asking.

i immediately remembered my mom, and i told her to stop and put it down.

she ignored me.

i said it again. same thing.

i told her to stop 5 times and she did not listen.

i tore the sketchbook out of her hands but by that point she had already seen everything.

i felt naked, violated, and wrong.

i told her she couldnt look through my stuff without asking first, and that it was wrong of her to do that.

she looked at me, and with a patronizing tone of voice, said "good luck in the real world."

i saw red.

immediately i smacked her (uninjured) shoulder in hopes that it would jostle her head out of her anus but no dice.

she got mad bc i slapped her shoulder (gently) after she snooped through the equivalent of my diary without asking and refused to stop when politely asked.

she complained to my aunt about how id smacked her and apparently gave no other context bc my aunt came to me the next day to ask what happened.

i told my aunt and she started pulling excuses like "well she really loves your art, her father was a painter so your art is her pride and joy," etc.

i could not give 2 shits. i told her no and she did not listen. she crossed multiple boundaries and laughed in my face when i got upset.

secondly, my art is not something you get to advertise like its your own. you dont get to piggyback off of my hobby for clout, ESPECIALLY not after what you pulled. my art is personal, and the fact that you bragged about it without my knowledge, likely sharing pictures as well, is revolting.

and then my grandmother came around and said (in a tone clearly meant to guilt-trip me into apologising, oh did i mention she does that a lot) that she'd never touch anything of mine again.

i said "good."

she took me home, and i couldn't pick up my sketchbook at all after that bc every time, all i could think about was how she saw everything inside and suddenly i didnt want to draw anymore.

she called me everyday after that to ask when i would be coming back over as if nothing happened.

it has been over a week and i havent seen her since.

i really dont want to see her. forever, preferably.

but my cousin has a birthday coming up in 2 days where she will, unfortunately, be there.

and knowing her, she's already shared her side and will get everyone to antagonize me about it, as usual.

wish me luck and pray i dont commit homicide in the middle of a 3 year old's birthday party.

this family is a goddamn nightmare.

(Thank you, I appreciate that. And everything else you said absolutely still stands, 100%.)

That sounds absolutely awful, anon. Privacy is a right, it is important, it needs to be respected.

A artist's sketchbook is their private property. It's nosy, rude and entitled to look through it without permission. And to keep looking through it when that person tells you to stop is just horrible. She has no right, it's your art and your property, not hers.

I absolutely hated it when my parents looked through anything of mine, it made me jumpy and secretive and less willing to show them anything.

And, her laughing you off? With """good luck in the real world?""" Firstly, excusing her shitty behavior with 'oh this isn't the real world you're so coddled' is bullshit manipulation and it doesn't make what she did okay. Second; if she did that out in public with a stranger, that would be harassment and theft.

Like, is she trying to imply that out there in the big scary "real world" people are going to nose through your stuff on the regular? Because that sounds like what she was trying to imply, and she is wrong. No one would accept that kind of behavior from her. What she did was wrong.

I'm so sorry you have to see her again. That entire situation is bull and you deserve so much more respect than what you're being given. Your privacy is important.

Please stay safe. Good luck at the party. I suggest you avoid taking anything personal, she's libel to try and guilt you into getting into it. Just get through the day and try to avoid her as much as possible after. Like with your mother; she ruined the relationship. Not you.

[unfolded73]

Kitchen Gossip (1/1) - schitt’s creek ff

Yesterday Jen Gunter published a piece in the New York Times celebrating the WAP, and so I guess somehow Jen Gunter and Cardi B led indirectly to this, the little fic that pushed me over 1,000,000 words on ao3. 

Rated Teen, 1452 words. David stumbles into some girl talk with Marcy and her sisters. (ao3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

David picks up the pinot noir bottle and upends it over his glass and… nothing.

He can probably do without another glass of wine. If he stops drinking now, he’ll be stone cold sober by bedtime and will thus be best-positioned to seduce his husband, the fact that they are sleeping in Patrick’s childhood bedroom down the hall from Patrick’s parents during this visit notwithstanding.

A cheer erupts from the living room.

On the other hand, Patrick is going to be watching hockey with his relatives until late, and David’s got just enough of a buzz going that another glass of wine will make the next couple of hours much less boring.

He sets the empty bottle down and goes into the kitchen in search of another.

Marcy has wine bottles lined up on the counter, and David sets his glass down, grabbing one and peeling the foil away.

“Mom told me once that I wouldn’t be that interested in sex after menopause, but I’m not finding that to be the case,” a woman behind David says surprisingly loudly, given the topic.

He doesn’t want to whip around and stare at the person speaking, so he focuses on inserting the corkscrew and twisting it. He didn’t look over at the women clustered in the kitchen when he came in, but he’s pretty sure that’s Patrick’s Aunt Laura talking.

“Well, Mom was probably just as happy to have an excuse not to have sex. She never talked like it was something she enjoyed.” That’s Marcy talking now. About Patrick’s dearly departed grandmother’s sex life. Not a topic David expected to hear anyone talking about during this visit to his in-laws’ house. Or, you know, ever.

The women are giggling to themselves as David deftly extracts the cork from the wine bottle. “God rest her soul, but she may have thought the female orgasm was a myth.” He supposes, from context, that this is the younger of Marcy’s sisters talking. Jennifer. The short one who makes the Nanaimo bars that he’d be willing to commit unspeakable crimes for.

“Or she just didn’t want to let us in on the secret in case we ran out and lost our virginities in high school,” Marcy says, and the women laugh.

“It was too late for me by the time she started lecturing me about it,” Jennifer says as David fills his glass.

“David!” calls Laura, the oldest sister. Wincing, he turns around, expecting her to tease him for inadvertently bumbling into this private sisterly conversation. “Bring that wine over here; I need a refill.”

He does as instructed, shooting Marcy a look that he hopes is apologetic for intruding on her bonding time with her sisters. She smiles and waves her hand to dismiss his apology, and when he finishes topping off Laura’s glass, Marcy holds hers out as well. He ends up emptying the bottle, between himself and the three sisters who are gossiping in the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Laura says to Jennifer, “You could fill a book with the stuff that Mom didn’t teach us about sex.” Continuing as if he’s not still standing there. So David starts to turn and go.

“Did your parents teach you about sex, David?” Jennifer, the youngest, asks him. Her lips are stained red with the wine, and he’s guessing she’s had at least as many glasses as he has. Maybe more.

He tilts his head to the side and tries to answer honestly. “Mm. They weren’t shy about talking about sex around me. There wasn’t any shame about it. But ‘teach’ is probably the wrong word. They never sat me down and had a ‘talk’.” He makes air quotes with his one free hand.

Marcy and her sisters are hanging on his every word, nodding in sympathy, and it’s disconcerting but also kind of nice.

“When I was eleven, my mother had her hairdresser Evan talk to me?” He shudders a little. “I guess because he was gay and she I assumed I was too.” He waves his hand to try to shoo that memory away. “But it was kind of horrifying. In retrospect, not appropriate topics for an eleven year old.” He sips his wine.

“Did Mom tell you that oral sex was unsanitary?” Jennifer asks her older sisters.

Marcy raises her eyebrows. “I don’t think she ever mentioned to me that it existed.”

“I’m not sure which is worse,” Jennifer says, and then shakes her head. “No, mine is worse. It kind of gave me a complex about it. I had to get over the idea that it was dirty. The idea that no man would want to put his mouth… you know. Down there.”

David blinks, and wonders if he should try to slink away before these women (who include his mother-in-law) remember that he’s standing there listening to them talking about mouths and vaginas. But also, he has something to contribute to this conversation, and the alcohol has vanished the filter between his brain and his mouth.

“To be fair to your mother, the culture instills in women a lot of that shame. There are all these products telling women they don’t smell good or taste good or that they’re too wet or not wet enough…” Oh god. Did all of that just come out of his mouth? In front of Marcy?

But all of them are nodding at his sage words. “David, you’re so right,” Laura says. “I had to talk to my daughter about that. She’d gotten this idea that her labia of all things should look a certain way. From porn, I guess.”

“As if we don’t have enough pressure from the media about our visible body parts,” Marcy says, taking a big drink from her wine glass.

“I mean, you aren’t going to be putting your mouth down there on any women anyway, are you, David?” Laura slurs, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Well, not now,” he says, tipsy enough not to be offended by the assumptions of his… aunt-in-law? Is that a thing? “But I’m pansexual, so I enjoyed doing that in my day.”

Laura, meanwhile, is drunk enough to be unphased and unashamed. “Oh, I thought you were gay.”

“Well, it just goes to show you can’t make assumptions about sexual orientation based on how someone acts,” he explains easily. “My hockey-loving, beer-drinking husband in there only enjoys sex with men, while for me, gender doesn’t figure in to who I’m attracted to.”

Jennifer takes another sip of her wine. “I might have been bisexual…” She looks at David. “Or pansexual. If it had occurred to me to explore any of that before I married Eric.”

David smiles at her. “Your sexual identity doesn’t have to align with who you’re sleeping with. You can be bi or pan and still be in a monogamous relationship with a man.” He gestures up and down at himself, the dregs of his wine sloshing dangerously. “Case in point.”

She nods but looks uncertain. He wants to hug her and take her by the hand and guide her into the wonderful world of queer identities, because it’s never too late. Reining himself in from any inappropriate demonstrations of affection, David drinks and then looks down at his wine glass, surprised that it’s already empty.

“We need more wine!” Laura says, and she’s going over this time to open a bottle.

“So what did Mom tell you?” Jennifer asks Marcy.

Marcy sighs. “That I would regret it if I didn’t save myself for marriage. And that part of being married was, you know. It was the whole wifely duty thing.” She rolls her eyes. “Fortunately, I knew better than to listen to any of that.”

A part of David is intensely curious to know more, but he has just enough sense not to ask Marcy to elaborate. He holds his glass out to let Aunt Laura fill it.

“So your parents assumed you were gay and then you had to… what? Come out to them that you also liked women?” Laura asks.

David leans back against the counter and nods. “That is almost exactly what happened, yes.”

The women nod at him, the overly aggressive agreement of drunk people. “That must have been difficult in its own way,” Marcy says.

“Well, we all have our crosses to bear,” David says.

~*~

“How did you get so drunk, is the question,” Patrick says, putting a glass of water and a couple of headache pills on the bedside table next to David.

“It was your mother’s fault,” David groans. “She and your aunts were talking about your grandmother’s sex life, and things kind of went downhill from there.”

Patrick puts his hands on his hips. “Ew, David.”

[gwoongi]

lovely ᵕ̈♡˳೫˚∗ (02)

jeon jeongguk / reader genre: boyfriend au words: 3744 warnings: crack humour, a liddol bit of fluff, slight suggestive sexual content, jeongguk and y/n being chaotic lowkey & five year old jeno being an actual savage... a/n: happy 2 see such a great response to the lovely couple with part one !!!!!! pls continue to luv and support them (♥ó㉨ò)ノ (pls see series parts on my masterlist!!)

➸ Jeongguk and Y/N play Mom and Dad for a little bit.

Jeongguk could cry. He could quite honestly, genuinely, whole-heartedly cry, right here and right now in the middle of his living room, surrounded by mess and feathers from the bedroom pillows.

He loves kids, don’t get him wrong- my God, he loves kids, and loves how kids can make a house feel like a home, how kids say some really fucking weird things; but, Jeongguk finds that kids are a lot of hard work. He has half the heart to call his parents and say sorry urgently, because children are like tiny spawns of Satan, demons wanting to cause chaos at every corner.

The last time Jeongguk and yourself were given the mission of looking after your niece and nephews, they were much smaller, and therefore easier to look after. All they did was sleep, and cry when they were hungry or needed to pee or poop, and were perfectly content doing absolutely nothing all damn day. Now, three years later, when your sister and her husband are going on a small self-care vacation to Spain, Jeongguk removes himself from the situation to observe the situation, which in description is the view of his living room completely ransacked and bustling with life, crazed children dashing around at full speed, like Mario Kart characters using the star. 

It’s so overwhelming that he actually doesn’t even know what to say. When the fuck did they get so hard to look after?

Whenever your niece and nephews came over to visit, they clung to Jeongguk like moths to lamplight. You never knew why. Jeongguk was fun, and easy to get along with, and perhaps his kind-hearted nature was universally loved by all ages. Even when they were babies and newborns, they settled with Jeongguk, staying silent and googly-eyed whereas in your arms they screeched, like banshees or dinosaurs swinging in trees. You couldn’t fault them; Jeongguk was irresistible, maternal almost in the way his voice changed around the kids, the way he laughed at their weird jokes and forced himself into pretend roles, like the mean villain coming to take over their Playmobil hospital.

Eight a.m, that’s when they arrived. Jeongguk had got up at six, eager and anxious, already cutting up salad bowls made up of apple slices and watermelons. Over an overly bitter cup of tea, you heard him ask, “wait, can three year olds eat watermelon?”, and you glared at him to resist the urge to respond with something that may well hurt his feelings.

“I usually like to put them to bed at about eight, but they won’t go to sleep even if you force their eyes closed, so just be firm with them,” is what your sister had said, frantically trying to detach a clinging boy from her leg. Jeongguk blinked owlishly, standing behind you in the hallway as you followed behind her wordless. Maybe Jeongguk didn’t know what firm meant. Raising your voice and being stern with little tiny precious angelic creatures? Never.

(1)

“Y/N, I’m sorry, but you’re boring.”

Five year olds can be blunt and mean. You now know this to be a fact, because the eldest of the four just said that to you, his hands on his hips with his lips in an unamused pout. He stands by the window, one foot on the Playmobil ambulance and the other on his leg like a flamingo.

“What? Why, what did I do?” you ask, confused and honestly, slightly offended. Jeongguk sits off to one side petting the hair of the youngest, his secret favourite because she’s not quite old enough to ask questions or complain.

“That’s what I mean, you’re not doing anything,” he huffs. “You’re supposed to be the bad police officer.”

“There’s no such thing as a bad police officer,” you try to tell him. You pause, realising you’re wrong but also realising that you’re not advised to get political with a five year old, especially one who still thinks the tooth fairy is a real thing. “I’m trying to be realistic.”

“You suck,” comes his reply. Jeongguk snorts, shrugging when you glance at him angrily.

“Stop, you know I’m your favourite Aunt,” you say to him sweetly.

Your nephew, sassy and honest little Jeno, pulls a face and sits back down with a huff, snatching the ambulance off the carpet to thrust the small man inside. “You’re my only Aunt, Auntie Y/N.”

Right.

The not-so-bad-police-officer gets snatched away from you seconds later and you decide, with finality and assertiveness, that you’re done with playing pretend with them. You lift yourself up off the floor, crouching over to take Yeji away from Jeongguk’s arms. Jeongguk pouts, his eyes blown wide as he watches the baby being lifted away from him and towards you.

“Uncle Jeongguk can be the villain,” you suggest, making Jeno forget how uncool you are as he launches into an enthusiastic cheer, followed by his siblings who are making noise just because he is. Jeongguk stares at you, pleading. “Anybody hungry?”

“No thanks, Auntie Y/N,” Jeno replies.

“Oh, do we have animal crackers?” asks Sanha politely, and you nod, taking his hand as you walk towards the kitchen, where a neatly packed bag sits on the counter where you left it when the four little monsters came by your apartment this morning. 

Jeongguk lets his body slump as he realises he has nowhere to run, no excuses to pull up, and he positions himself on all fours to get the police officer miniature and indulge in Jeno’s futuristic fantasies of a police officer murdering hospital patients. Honestly, sometimes you have to respect a child’s morbid creativity, even when it scares the living hell out of you.

(2)

“Y/N, did you move Jeno’s inhaler?”

“No, why?”

Jeongguk appears in the doorway to the kitchen, scratching the back of his neck out of a nervous, absent-minded habit. His eyes are glued to the four children in the living room.

“They’re running around a lot, I don’t want Jeno to lose his breath and have an attack,” Jeongguk explains, meanwhile you rummage around in your sister’s handy dandy travel bag and search for the tiny blue inhaler. Jeongguk braves looking away from them and instead over to you, “if it’s not in there, it’s fine, I’ll check the bathroom again.”

You hum, searching blindly. “Yeah, it’s not here, baby. Check the cabinet under the sink, I’m eighty nine percent sure that it’s in one of those plastic boxes.”

Jeongguk’s eyebrows push up in amusement: “Jeno’s life is counting on this eighty nine percent.”

“The more you question me, the less confident I get. Check the bathroom,” you reply, shoving a baby carrot into your mouth as you follow Jeongguk out of the kitchen, opting to watch the kids while he rummages around in hordes of bathroom mess. While Jeongguk hurries into the hallway to check the bathroom, you step out into the living room and pause comically.

The four kids seem perfectly happy, loud and obnoxious and covered in a thin layer of white feathers, bleeding from one of the pillows mangled on the floor. Without context, this looks like a murder scene, with crayons broken and split around the floor and the couch throw on the floor next to the Playmobil set, and you’re half praying on everybody’s behalf that those pillows arent the ones from the master bedroom, because you’re pretty sure you don’t have any spares laying around for later.

“Found it,” Jeongguk returns a few minutes later, holding the small inhaler in his hands. After taking a second out of the room, when he comes back he doesn’t quite know what to say. “The mess wasn’t my fault.”

You frown, your hands on your hips. “I know. Maybe you should put on a movie, keep them entertained for a bit so they don’t completely trash our house.”

Jeongguk chews the inside of his lip. “Is it cheating if we call over Seokjin to help? He’s always on kiddie pool duty, he’s better with kids than we are.”

“You’re so good with kids, shut up,” you say to him, gently smacking his arm. “They love you.”

So, he huffs. Stealing a kiss from you, he gently pushes you backwards and then steps across the room, expertly mindful of the landmines of lego on the floor as he grabs Jeno and moves him away from the coffee table, to sit on the couch next to his siblings while Jeongguk retreats to the movie box, filled with animated films that the kids go absolutely bonkers for. You hear the start of an argument over which Disney movie to watch first as you return to the kitchen, chopping up vegetables that, secretly, you know will make you the ultimate uncool Aunt.

(3)

“I hate carrots.”

“You do like carrots.”

A gag. “Vegetables! Yuck!”

With one hand, you rake through your hair, staring tiredly at Jeno and Jaemin as they fuss over the food on their plates. And it’s not even like you wanted to give them carrots! You’re just following the note left for you in the bag, with the instructions of an actual parent being your law. Jeongguk sits at the other end of the table, twirling his fork around his food as he watches, feeling increasingly guilty.

It’s hard being an Aunt, especially hard being the uncool Aunt. He knows it’s just a joke, just something the kids say because you’re looking out for them, and he frowns, looking around the table.

“I’m allergic to carrots,” Jeno says suddenly.

“Don’t lie,” you tell him, aeroplane feeding Yeji who seems to be the only baby present who appreciates your efforts. She laughs and squeals as the spoon of food comes towards her and that makes you smile, animated sound effects as she eats it.

Jeno pouts, “It’s true.”

“Your Mom told me to feed you this, don’t hate me,” you say to him, making your own pout which he, as a stubborn five year old, ignores. “Come on, eat all your food and you can have pudding afterwards. I’ll let you have two slices of cake instead of one.”

He feels tempted. “Can I leave the carrots?”

“No. Carrots will make you super strong,” you explain. “Uncle Jeongguk ate carrots when he was a kid and now he’s real strong, look!”

Jeno glances at Jeongguk, who smiles for effect and encouragement. “Auntie Y/N is right. I hated carrots too, but I wanted to be big and strong so I ate all my vegetables.”

A groan of sadness comes out of Jeno’s mouth. At this point, Jaemin is convinced, wolfing down his carrots that he actually doesn’t hate after-all, considering they’re gone in a matter of seconds. Sanha seems unbothered about the entire thing, quietly eating his food because he knows that he wants that additional slice of cake, even if Jeno is going to refuse it, he is not!

Before you can have a mental breakdown at the dinner table, Jeongguk leans over slightly and looks at Jeno with a gentle and wide-eyed expression, child-like, engaging. “Did you also know that all the good kids on Santa’s nice list eat vegetables?”

Mid-mumble, Jeno freezes, looking at Uncle Jeongguk. “Really?” Intonation, his voice is so high.

Jeongguk nods. “Mhm! Santa said that if you eat your veggies and say thank you to whoever made you the meal, he’ll bring you anything you want on Christmas Day. Don’t you wanna be on the good list?”

Jeno nods furiously. “Yep! Uncle Jeongguk, that’s so cool, you know Santa!”

Eh...If it works. Jeongguk doesn’t argue or disagree as Jeno quickly finishes his plate without protest, seemingly fine at the end considering he just said he was allergic. As he scoffs down the contents of his plate, you look over at Jeongguk and silently thank him, slumping as if suggesting that you were tired. He grins, knowing the feeling.

(4)

Splash.

“Careful, honey, don’t get the floor all wet.”

“Sorry, Auntie Y/N. It was the ducky’s fault!”

Bath time is a chore, surprisingly harder than it was when they were babies and needed extra attention in the water. Sanha sits solo in the bathtub, the sound of Jaemin and Jeno running around in the bedroom an ambience as you crouch by the tub and help Sanha get clean. Yeji is the only child clean and patient, so calm and cute and cuddly and ready to go to sleep the second her bathtime is over. Jeongguk groans somewhere in the apartment, keeping the twins entertained while Sanha finishes up.

“O-kay,” you say, after a few minutes of helping wash away some suspicious chocolate stains off his arms. Most likely super-cool-Uncle-Jeongguk gave them something extra after dessert, and honestly, that wouldn’t surprise you if it were true. “All done! Feel better?”

Sanha nods, letting the duck float away. “Yep. I’m cold.”

“Once you’re dry and changed, we can put on the heating and finish up watching Cars, does that sound okay?”

“That sounds fun, Auntie Y/N! You’re the bestest,” he grins, and you grin too, because honestly, you’re taking coolness points in gasps, and anything to prove you’re not some grouchy unfun Aunt is welcomed and encouraged. Sanha doesn’t make a fuss as he gets dried, shuddering for extra effect and happily snuggling into his duck onesie once everything is dry and ready for him to get changed.

Sanha is a human rocket. He hops into his onesie and races back into the living room, reaching his final destination of Uncle Jeongguk as a loud groan fills the house, likely due to the fact that Sanha has jumped on top of his Uncle, like he always does, just to get the reaction. You sniff, leaning to flush the toilet because apparently they haven’t quite mastered that one yet, and drain the bathtub. The floor sits wet, pooling like an extra tub or the floor of a shower and you sigh, grabbing an extra towel off the rack to soak up the bathwater, the low bubbling sound of the water disappearing briefly out-yelling the terrorsome three out in the living room.

“Need any help, baby?”

Behind you, Jeongguk appears in the doorway, not quite in and not quite out. He hovers, waiting patiently to see if he can find an excuse to stop being a couch for the three kids. You lean over the bathtub, taking out their small toys and setting them on the side with hopes that they will dry overnight.

“Nah, I’m okay,” you tell him, looking over your shoulder with a smile. Jeongguk stands there, having changed, in an oversized jumper and sweats. “What are they doing?”

“Fighting,” Jeongguk says. “I’d break it up, but I wanna see if they’ll learn their lesson once they get hurt.”

“That’s perfect. But fucked. Are we fucked up?”

Jeongguk shrugs. “Worked for me and my brother when we were younger. I turned out okay!”

You look at him for a moment with a bewildered look. “Sure, if that’s what you want to call it.”

The bathtub makes a gurgle, the water gone and you crouch to pick up the bathmat, hanging it over the small radiator for it to dry faster. Jeongguk then takes several steps backwards as you meet him outside, his smile widening as you close the door and turn off the light, falling into his arms with a soft thud and sigh. His arms wrap around you sweetly, warm and tight, like home. Jeongguk likes weekends for the moments he gets to spend with you, but today, he’s barely seen you in his own home. Longing- Jeongguk tightens his arms around you and presses his lips to the crown of your head, gently swaying you from side to side like a waltz. He knows you feel the same way, the same kind of tired and wanting energy, as your arms lock around him tighter.

“Come on,” Jeongguk mutters, pouting slightly when you pull out of his embrace and glance up at him through your eyelashes. He exaggerates it, humming, and then leaning to press his lips to yours. Moments after he pulls away, he comes back in for another, and another, his hands molded behind your back. “Love you,” he adds in between one kiss, and you hum in reply. It’s enough.

There’s a pitter-patter of feet. “Ewwww! Auntie Y/N and Uncle Jeongguk are having sex!”

You pull away from Jeongguk with such speed that it might give you whiplash; Jeno stands looking slightly horrified in the hallway, near the door to the living room, proud of his rising of ews that follow from his siblings near the TV.

“Don’t say that! Where did you even learn that word?” you gasp, moving towards the five year old.

Jeno shrugs. “Heard it at Mommy’s birthday party. Uncle Taehyung said it.”

You sigh knowingly. “Should have known.”

“Please don’t go around saying that when your Mom and Dad come to get you,” Jeongguk adds in, looking flustered from behind you.

That wouldn’t be the most impressive thing to hear when you walk through the door to collect your kids.

(5)

The bathroom light switches off. Jeongguk closes the door and rubs his face, groaning out aches from his shoulders as he approaches the bed, shirtless, his toes curling into the carpet.

“I swear they weren’t that crazy last time we looked after them,” Jeongguk says, sinking onto the bed. “Have they always been like that? Am I the crazy one?”

“It’s this scary thing called growing up,” you reply, sitting back against your pillows with your phone in your hands, the screen lighting up with new messages from your sister. “Can’t believe you got them to go to sleep without any trouble. It’s giving me baby-fever…”

“I’m gonna - I’m gonna have to ask you to slow down,” replies Jeongguk, sounding winded.

“Everytime you hang out with them, it just proves to me how good you are with kids, and how, you know, someday you might be a Dad and- ugh, you’re gonna be great,” you sigh, followed by Jeongguk grunting with amusement and shuffling to lay right beside you, his nose on your arm. You set your phone down, turning to match together against him like a puzzle. “They’re not shy when it comes to picking favourites. God, they really hate me.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes, “No, they don't. They love you- you’re so good with looking after them. If I was doing all this alone, there’s no doubt I’d probs forget to feed them at dinner time. I’d straight up order a pizza and forget that kids need certain foods to grow up.”

Laughter suffices as a reply, and that’s that for a little bit. In his head, Jeongguk wants to talk all about how great of a Mom you’ll be, how amazing it would be for him to watch you raise children, his children. He doesn’t say any of these things, because he’s one-hundred-percent certain that you know it all already, and that you’re just modest and insecure about it. So, Jeongguk hums and pulls you closer for a hug, smooching your lips when you’re close enough.

The door is closed. The four kids are sleeping, Yeji so deep in sleep that not even her brothers could wake her up if they screamed. Jeongguk knows this. You know this. So, he moves his hand from your back to your ass, feeling the curve, feeling the smile against his teeth.

“Stop, our niece and nephews are next door,” you warn him, quietly, mumbles against his mouth. Jeongguk smirks, gently nipping your bottom lip with his teeth and pushing his head into your neck.

“And it would suck to wake them up,” Jeongguk replies, worming his way into places hot and inviting. “So, keep it quiet, yeah?”

You huff, rolling to your back and parting your legs as Jeongguk slots in between. “I love when you get bossy on an evening,” you say to mock him and he laughs quietly.

“I love you,” he breathes, and you don’t get time to reply.

He knows, though.

(6)

“And they were good?”

Jeongguk and yourself share a glance.

“Golden,” you say.

Your sister stands in the kitchen, giving you both the stink eye while the three older kids race around the house, excited at the fact their cool parents are home three days later. Honestly, she knows you’re lying, because these are her kids and she knows them better than anybody.

Anyway, she shrugs. “They must always be good for you guys. You can babysit more often.”

Jeongguk tenses in his seat. He loves these kids but, holy fuck, the thought of looking after them again so soon makes him want to throw up. If there is one thing Jeongguk has learnt from looking after three wild rampaging children and one angelic princess baby- but, again, he has no favouritism!-, it’s that it is absolutely harder than it looks.

It’s not enough to put him off though.

When the house is emptied of tiny humans and is left cold and quiet and a little bit messy, Jeongguk stoops to pick up left behind piles of mess on the floor and he finds himself smiling. Now that he thinks about it, it was actually kind of fun. Being a Dad for the day. Then he thinks about being a Dad one day. His eyes find you across the room hauling the hoover out of the storage cupboard and his heart does somersaults.

(7)

[5:45pm] Mean Sibling #1: Tell me why Jeno is talking about how you and Jeongguk had sex [5:46pm] You: OMG THATS NOT TRUE [5:46pm] You: well, i mean… [5:46pm] You: not in front of them !!!! what kind of aunt do you think i am????? [5:49pm] Mean Sibling #1: How does he even know what sex means….how does he know that word [5:50pm] Mean Sibling #1: Hyo is laughing at me. what does my husband know that i don’t [5:52pm] You: that sounds like a you problem [5:54pm] Mean Sibling #1: ok well sorry for accusing you :P gotta give my FIVE YEAR OLD a talk….dear fucking god [5:59pm] Mean Sibling #1: wait a damn second wtf do you mean NOT IN FRONT OF THEM??? [6:00pm] Mean Sibling #1: Y/N ANSWER UR PHONE [6:01pm] Mean Sibling #1: Y/N [6:03pm] Mean Sibling #1: fucker

[braveskyered]

Dames 7 - Firsts

It is highly recommended that you read Knights before reading this, otherwise you may miss some context.

Knights is a post-Hellbent fanfic where, while the Mystery Skulls learn the truth of what happened in the cave, reconciliation fails in the long run, and Arthur leaves his old life behind to escape the vengeful wraith. He tries to move on with a new life, but it’s not easy to heal from the trauma.

Knights is seen through Arthur’s eyes, while Dames is seen through the eyes of the other people he interacts with.

This takes place before Part 1. 

- - - - - - -

- - - - - - -

There is always a first for everything.

It would be talking to someone new, reading a new piece of information, trying out a new dish on the menu, watching the premiere of a new show that may or may not be interesting, the list goes on.

Falling in love with someone should probably be included in the mix.

On Elaine’s end, she fell in love with someone for the first time twice. The first resulted in her heart being broken for the first time. The second resulted in her falling in love again for the first time.

Elaine is sure that there are plenty of firsts out there. Not just for her, but for Arthur, too.

She remembered that she and Arthur had first met on a rainy day.

Her first impression of the tall and thin man was mere annoyance when she found him asleep on one of the waiting chairs in Four of a Kind Queens, thinking that he was just a typical bum trying to take shelter from the rain. Elaine remembered Nana Niniane telling her to let the man sleep, and while Elaine didn’t quite agree with her back then, she is glad that she had listened to the older woman’s decision in the long run.

The first time Arthur and Elaine spoke to each other happened because the former’s hamster decided to escape and get her attention, letting them properly meet. That was when she first learned that Arthur knew his way around cars and machines in general. Later that day, she learned for the first time that Arthur had just escaped from an abusive home life and is trying to find a place to live. Even though there weren’t any official openings, Elaine’s grandmother immediately decided to hire Arthur in as an employee.

To this day, Elaine isn’t quite sure why Mama Vivienne made such a reckless decision, but she longed stopped caring about it. In the end, her decision eventually led Elaine to live a happy life full of love and happiness with the occasional bump here and there in between, but what relationship doesn’t have one?

Finding a place for Arthur to stay wasn’t too difficult. Before Elaine had broken up with her first love that she had considered marrying, she had rented out a small apartment for them to stay in until they could find a suitable house in Cantabile for sale. Right after she deposited the rent money, her first love-turned-ex decided to break up with her right then and there and left without saying much. As a result, since Elaine was single again, there was no need for the apartment, but all sales were final with it, so it remained under her name for the next six months. Now, Elaine considered that twist of fate a blessing, as the empty apartment turned out to be perfect for Arthur’s needs.

A few days had passed. Along with Aunt Morgan and Mama Vivienne, Elaine and her parents, Caelia and Tom (whenever he was available) carefully watched Arthur make his progress into getting comfortable working with the family, and at the time, it seemed like he was doing okay.

Nana Niniane also took the time to help out when she can, but for some reason, she chose to keep her distance from Arthur for the time being, as if something had bothered her…

Then one day, Mama Vivienne, Elaine, Caelia, and Morgan had made a startling discovery. All over Arthur’s upper body were scars that ranged from cuts to burns. It was also at that time that they learned that Arthur’s left arm is a prosthetic. It… did explain why Arthur was so insistent on wearing clothes that covered him from head to toe even on the hot days.

Elaine and her family had discovered this when Arthur had accidentally cut his arm somewhat badly on a rusty pipe. Because Arthur didn’t have any official medical record to give them other than his word, this required a visit to the urgent care so he could get a tetanus shot just to be safe. However, in order for the nurse to administer the shot, Morgan had to force Arthur to remove his long sleeve shirt so he could receive treatment, and the resulting sight became ingrained in Elaine’s mind.

Seeing Arthur struggling to remain strong and failing, tearfully insisting that he could handle this on his own since it was his own fault that he had cut his hand, just as how his past scars were also his fault… didn’t settle well with Elaine. She and her family knew Arthur had been abused since he said that he wanted to get away, they just didn’t know the injuries were to this extent.

Everyone wisely decided to not ask Arthur for further details too much, even though they all now have the same desire to find out who his abuser was and see to it that justice would be served. If Arthur’s abuser really is as stubborn to “punish” him as he says they are, then trying to contact any doctor that had treated him in the past would bring an immediate red flag to the abuser.

In the end, Mama Vivienne, with Nana Niniane pulling some strings, settled with having Arthur go through a full physical at the Lady of the Dames Hospital. It took over four hours to convince Arthur, and even then, he only relented after having Mama Vivienne agree to the condition that no one in the family, or the doctors, ask about how he received his injuries.

Everyone knows not to aggravate someone’s trauma.

Three months after they first met, Aunt Morgan had received a call from her daughter Eleanor about a robotics convention just a few hours away from home and invited the family to come visit it with her. Although Elaine didn’t know much about robotics like her cousin does, she knew that Arthur is an expert in the field since he made his own arm, so this might be something he’d want to go to. So when she suggested inviting Arthur to come with them, her family consented with Mama Vivienne even saying that it would do Arthur some good to “get out of the apartment and the shop every once in a while” as she would say.

When Elaine went into the fifth garage that is normally used for private jobs, she found Arthur hard at work doing maintenance on a vintage van, a Volkswagen if Elaine recalled correctly. That van is from a wealthy client, and Mama Vivienne was reluctant to take the vehicle in until Arthur volunteered to do it.

“You’ve tended to a van like this before?” Mama Vivienne asked him.

Arthur rubbed a hand against his left shoulder, a habit he has when nervous, “I-It’s similar to the van that I used to drive for years, although it was a different brand and a few years older than this one.”

After seeing Arthur prove himself that he could help identify the kind of engine needed to replace it so the client could order it, Mama Vivienne became convinced to take in the job.

Seeing Arthur hard at work with his face having a few oil stains smeared on his cheek and shirt…

…Elaine figured it’s just the hot weather outside.

When she saw that Arthur had reached a good spot in his work, Elaine approached him and asked if he would be interested in the robotics convention, which made him look up in interest.

…He should not look this cute.

Elaine looked away and faked a cough in the hopes that Arthur wouldn’t notice her internal dilemma.

Wait, wait, wait. This can’t be right… Am I seriously having a crush on him?! What the hell, I just broke up with my ex three and half months ago. This is too soon! I, I, I mean, Arthur is a nice guy and all, but I--

“Elaine? Are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine. Tickle in my throat,” Elaine turned back to him, “Anyway, I got a call from my cousin Eleanor…”

Although Arthur tried to hide it, Elaine could tell that the man was looking more and more interested as Elaine told him about the robotics convention.

“…and so we were wondering if you want to come with us?”

When Elaine didn’t get an answer while Arthur just stared at her, she wondered if she messed up on something as she struggled to keep eye contact. This is getting a little awkward, she thought.

“I-I’d be happy to. You don’t mind?”

She had to resist the urge to jump when Arthur finally answered. He looked unsure, but there was something about that hopeful smile of his that made Elaine feel something.

“Not at all! If anything, think of it as a date!” Elaine froze with her smile once the words came out of her mouth. Wait. Crap. Frick! Augh! I didn’t mean to say that! Please don’t take that the wrong way, please don’t take that the wrong way, please oh please oh please oh please! …Oh! Wait! “…Ah, between friends, that is!”

Please don’t make this awkward. Please don’t make this awkward. Please don’t make this awkward, please--!

All of a sudden Elaine heard Arthur laugh a little, “I’d like that.”

At that moment, Elaine knew for a fact that she does indeed have a crush on Arthur.

[purplesurveys]

962

Do you have a pair of Beat headphones? I used to have a pair. I mean it’s still around in my closet, but it’s completely broken now with the cable all given out and the cushion for the left ear has been missing for a while. I just don’t have the heart to throw it out because it was my absolute favorite pair of headphones that gave me good memories during a particularly shitty time in high school.

How was your week? A little better. I’ve gotten into the groove at work so I’m no longer shy when it comes to asking questions and giving inputs, and I’ve gained a better grasp of the workplace’s dynamic so it’s also been easier to communicate with people. Heavy life stuff is still around and it won’t be leaving for a while, but they were easier to ignore this week.

Are any of your electronics not working properly at the moment? Not really, but my phone’s charger cable recently stopped working. I have a backup that I’m using at the moment and while it’s able to charge my phone, it’s starting to fray and I’m not feeling too good about the wires that I’m starting to see hahaha. I just don’t know how to take care of my cables, guys. Anyway, this question made me paranoid so I took a few minutes to wrap a shit ton of electrical tape on the frayed area so I think it’s all good for now.

Are you excited to pick out your wedding dress one day? I like thinking about my wedding but I truthfully dread the wedding gown part. I’ve never been able to decide what look and style suits me best and I’ve just never been good at determining things like that. I like to imagine that I’d leave that bit to whoever my maid of honor will be, because I’d definitely prize a second opinion more than my own.

When was the last time you felt relieved? Yesterday, 6 PM when I exited the last Google Meet for the day. It was a Friday night and it meant my work week was over :)) I mean I love what I do, but Friday nights will always hit differently.

Does it bother you when an artist remakes a song that one has previously done? I wouldn’t say it bothers me but covers are definitely a hit or miss for me, with way more misses than hits. Nothing wrong with acts putting their own spin on an already existing song, but I’m personally the “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it” type when it comes to music.

What brand of chapstick do you use? I don’t use any mainly because I’m bound to lose them within a week. Same goes for other care products.

Do you really think someone could be perfect? No. Everyone has their flaws and that should be okay to acknowledge.

When was the last time you cried? Wednesday, I think. It’s been three days! I’d count that as an achievement. But idk, my sadness comes in waves so I shouldn’t be celebrating too early. I’m sure I’ll feel a pang soon and be crying again over the weekend.

What’s a food that you like every once in awhile but not often? Cake. Too sweet and rich; I wouldn’t enjoy eating it every day. What letter is the song you’re listening to under? Not listening to music, but I have a YouTube video on.

Would you rather visit the 60s or 70s? 60s would be the lesser evil, I guess. I would NOT want to live through Martial Law in the 70s...I originally wasn’t even going to go with 60s because I think the world was a bit chaotic at the time, but I think my country was mostly unaffected by the political/cultural things happening then so it’s whatever.

Are you the type of person that enjoys getting hugs? I don’t actively seek them out but it feels nice when someone likes me enough to extend their arms out to me for a hug. I haven’t been hugged for a while and I feel kinda empty.

Do your socks say anything on them? I think some of my socks have the brand name on them but that’s it.

Name a TV channel that only has three letters in it. AMC.

Have you found out who your true friends are? For now, yes.

Gray or Grey? I use both spellings for no particular context. I simply like changing it up lol.

Will you be buying concert tickets any time soon? LOL of course not. And I’m very picky when it comes to concerts that I choose to attend anyway, so I doubt I would’ve bought any tickets in the last six months even without Covid unless it was for Paramore or Beyoncé.

Have you seen the movie The Perks of Being a Wallflower? Did you like it? Nope, but everyone was hyping that movie up when it came out. It never really looked like my thing < Yeah pretty much. I feel like it’s such a teenage-y movie so I was never drawn to it. I also think it would be too triggering for my depression, so I’ve felt wary about checking both book and movie out.

Is there something you’d fall apart if you didn’t have? One of my biggest fears is to end up alone, so I always have to have some form of a support system to fall back into. I would be very lost if I didn’t have at least one person to rely on.

How many weddings have you been to? I can think of four off the top of my head. I was either a flower girl or a junior bridesmaid for all of those.

When you smile, are you confident? Most times I am; I like to smile. But sometimes I smile just to fake it and avoid any questions.

Have you ever not done something because you were afraid of getting in trouble? Yesss, all the time. I’ve always been all about following the rules and I’ve never seen the appeal in breaking them. That makes me sound boring but at least I’ve never gotten in serious trouble lol.

Was the weather beautiful today? For me it is, but only because I like the rain and cloudy weather. Others might find it bleak and sad, but I feel right at home.

Do you have to have a fan on when you sleep? Yeah, all year long.

Would you rather have an orange, red or gray bedroom? If I had my dream modern/brutalist home, grey would be soooo fucking perfect for the bedroom. 

Would you ever dye part of your hair blue? I’m open to it, but I don’t think it’ll be a good match for my black hair as both are darker shades as it is. If I could dye my hair I’d pick lighter colors like green or even go all the way to blonde.

Have you ever gone to a private school? Yeah, from kindergarten all the way to high school. Private schools here typically give a better quality of education and they don’t give off the for-lazy-spoiled-kids vibe that I always hear from private schools in other countries, which makes them the norm for middle and upper-middle class families.

Is Finding Nemo a favorite movie of yours? I have other favorite animated movies, but that doesn’t stop me from loving Finding Nemo. :) I would always tune in for the whole thing if it were on.

Does/Did your school have a uniform? I had to wear one in my first school, but I didn’t need one for college.

Turn on the TV. What channel are you on? No TV where I am. I think my parents are watching a movie on their TV, but it’s on Netflix rather than a channel.

Does your house have security cameras? It does not.

Does a popsicle sound good right now? Eh, I guess it sounds fine but I’d rather have a pint of ice cream. I think that fits better with the weather and the mood that I’m in today.

What’s your favorite exercise workout? My weight training class last year was a lot of fun. I always felt dead after every session haha but I definitely felt healthier. I wish the semester had gone on longer just for that one class.

What’s your favorite thing to do? Lol I love doing many different things < Same lmao this question is so vague??? My favorite thing to do these days is binge-watch Rhett and Link content, but I like doing so many other things too.

What did you do for your 17th birthday? I was with Gabie that day and we went to a local art museum, as well as to a restaurant that she had wanted to take me to.

Does your local Walmart have benches in them to rest? We don’t have Walmarts.

Was your favorite stuffed animal really a teddy bear growing up? I never had stuffed animals. Well I was given a few of them as gifts, but I was never into them and they always ended up being owned by my sister.

If your house was haunted, what would you do? Not even think about it. Just show them that I couldn’t care less, lol.

Are you good at swimming? I can do a few strokes and am pretty good at treading, but I'm prone to panic-kicking when I can tell that the water is too deep.

What’s worse: Slow internet or slow walkers? Slow internet is such a pain in the ass. Shouldn’t even have to be an issue in 2020 anymore.

What is the rudest thing a guy has ever done to you? Cat-called, whistled at, winked at, lunged at. One good thing about this lockdown is that I haven’t had to deal with men as much as I used to. Do you sleep with the sheets tucked in or out? Well I only have one layer of bedsheet and it’s the one that covers up the mattress, so it’s tucked in by default. I have a blanket to cover me up when I’m cold.

What do you do to fall asleep faster? I find a few videos to watch as that tends to make me feel sleepy the quickest.

Do you carry a bottle of water wherever you go? I used to have a tumbler/water bottle in college but I forgot it at the gym one day and when I came back for it, somebody already stole it :( It was such a handy water bottle because it kept my water cold all day, so it sucks that I lost it. I’m planning to buy the same model again soon.

Are you afraid that one day you might get cancer? It doesn’t really run in my family save for one grand-aunt who had cancer, so I’m not too worried. But I’ve accepted the fact that it is at least a possibility.

Are you a fast or slow walker? I like being in the middle. Slow walkers are annoying so I try not to be one, and walking fast just reminds me of my mom and how quickly she walks at malls when she’s supposed to be spending time with her family lol.

Do you usually have to wear a belt with your pants? No. They all fit me just fine.

Does it bother you when people’s underwear hangs out? Eghhh, it really does. I know it shouldn’t but it really does. I just feel like it’s so invasive and it gives me a lot of secondhand embarassment.

Are you usually the person to try new things with your hair? Not really. I like staying safe with my hair. The most daring thing I’ve done with it is get bangs tbh, and I don’t plan on going any further than that.

When’s your birthday? April 21st.

What age do you look forward to reaching? I don’t feel that way about any age. Whenever I reach ultimate satisfaction and security will be a good enough age for me.

Name a state that begins with the letter M. Minnesota.

What’s the first thing you do after a car accident? Think about how to tell my parents. D:

What do you use to get rid of bad breath? Brush my teeth, drink water.

What exercise do you hate the most? Pull-ups.

What do you do at a party? Drink, socialize, tell stories, eat allllllll the food ha.

[dabard]

Immortality Is Wasted On Oneself

It was 1348 and London was in shambles. I had not been here since the time of the Romans and I had sought it out hoping for a final resting place, for a way to die here where the great Republic began to fall. People were sitting in the streets, either dying or already dead, nobles hurried by clutching perfumed cloths to their noses in an attempt to mask the scent and stop the spread of the disease. I was dressed modestly, but people still glanced at me nervously as I walked among the bodies of those that were not long for the grave without a care. My leg caught on something and to my surprise it was not an errant stick or wayward bramble. It was a child. “Water.” The girl croaked, her neck was swollen with the tell-tale lumps of the Black Death yet her grip held firm on my ankle. “Please, water.” For a moment I considered simply walking away, she would die anyway, if not today then in a few years when she took a wrong turn down a dark alley, or sometime after that when age got her. These people can’t help but perish. And yet I didn’t. There was a well nearby and although I was unfit from the apathy of my last few centuries, I hauled a bucket from the local smithy to the waterhole and filled it to the brim. No doubt I looked a fool as I struggled to drag that laden container from one side of the square to the other, but when I reached the girl she surprised me with a genuine, heartfelt smile. “Thank you m’lord.” She coughed, before almost plunging her head into the water and gulping down great amounts. “Woah, wait a moment.” I admonished, much to my own surprise. I pulled her back from the water and gently leaned her against a wall so that she was upright. “You need to drink it slowly, or you’ll just be sick and throw it up everywhere.” “I’m already sick sir.” The girl said, her wry laugh dissolving into another fit of coughs. “Then there’s no sense in making it worse.” Came my stern reproach, cupping some water in my hands and offering it to her. “Drink it slowly this time.” Her name was Emily, and underneath the grime of her days on the street she was a fetching young woman. I helped her first out of pity, but as hours turned into days, and days turned into weeks, I found myself worrying over her eating eating habits, her sleep schedule, whether she was being treated kindly by the other teenagers. When my ministrations brought her from sickness to health I thought my part in things was over, but a realization took that thought from my plans. “Where are your parents Em?” I had asked not long after “Borrowing” a blanket from a royal’s house down the street for her. “Dead.” She had replied simply, avoiding my gaze. “Rats got them. Where are yours?” “Dead.” I replied, already standing as the next half century or so of my life suddenly had a purpose. “Sumerians got them. Why don’t we find somewhere better for you to sleep? There’s plenty of empty houses around, there’s no sense in letting them rot with no one inside.” She was a curious creature, wry and laconic with a good sense of when to leave certain topics alone. We squatted in a house near the Thames for a time, I began working as a doctor to bring in some money so that she wouldn’t starve. Weeks became months and she finally broke the golden rule. “Why don’t you eat?” Emily had asked at the breakfast table, toast and oatmeal in front of her while I read a book on herbs rumored to be cures for the plague. “Can’t afford to feed two people.” I said with a shrug. “But you don’t eat at all.” She pushed, curiosity burning behind her eyes. That wit I admired so much in her now pointed directly at me. “That isn’t normal.” “I suppose it isn’t.” I admitted, resolving to give her at least a partial truth. “I don’t need to eat, I can if I want, but it isn’t necessary. That’s just how I am.” She accepted that with a nod, biting into her toast with a thoughtful expression. “Are you the devil?” I snorted, turning a page in my book. “Even if I was, what makes you think I wouldn’t just lie about it?” Months became years, and Emily grew nervous around me, at first I believed she still suspected me of being the devil, or a demon in some capacity, but that suspicion was dashed when she finally broke her peace while we sat in the living room. “When are you going to do it?” She had blurted, slightly fearful. “Do what?” I had asked gently, afraid of startling her. Tears welled in her eyes and I panicked slightly, worried that somehow I had upset her with some action or lack thereof during our time together. “You know what!” She had accused. “Girls don’t just get given dresses and a house and food and love. Not without something in return.” Realization dawned on me, along with a horror at the implication my new ward was making. “Emily. I’m not going to… To force you to do anything. You aren’t some prisoner or servant here, you aren’t some investment I’ve made. You’re my friend.” Those tears finally broke over her cheeks, relief and guilt mixing in her eyes and spilling down her face. “I am?” I stood, but made no move towards her, simply opening my arms and waiting. She lurched forwards and hugged me tightly, her face buried in my shirt for the longest of moments.

Months became years, and a new person joined our home. Her name was Christine, and her father was a drunkard named Thomas that I had no patience for. When Thomas’s wife had died of consumption the poor girl found out why her mother never went a day without “Falling down”. Emily and Christine were fast friends and often spent the night in Emily’s room gossiping and playing checkers, or so my young friend would have me believe. I hadn’t realized Christine had spent almost a week living in our house until Thomas came to my door. He was a foul tempered brute and the swill he had been drinking didn’t help that fact at all. “Give her ‘ere doctor!” He had yelled, red faced with anger and balled fists at his side. “She ain’t been doing her chores and I’ve had enough of it!” “Tom, you’re making a scene.” I said calmly, glancing up the stairs to find the girls watching. Christine was all but cowering with fear, while Emily gave me a simple, single shake of her head. “I don’t give a fuck what you think of what I’m making!” The drunk bellowed, trying to force his way past me. “CHRISTINE, GET YOUR ARSE DOWN HERE NOW!” I put my hand on Thomas’s chest and my leg swept behind him as I gave a slight push. The other man went tumbling into the street as I descended my front steps and rolled up my sleeves. “I think she’s perfectly fine where she is thank you Thomas.” “You’re gonna fight me doc?” Slurred the slovenly brute with a laugh before he brought up his fists. “Man like you probably never seen a real fight in your life.” I could describe for you what happened next, but if you had never seen the Visigoths lay siege to Rome, or the Persian invasions of Greece then you’d have no context for how my experiences played a part in the struggle. Needless to say however, that it was not my first or last fight. With Thomas squared away Christine moved into the house permanently, the girls would have liked me to believe they were living in separate rooms but I had visited the Isle of Lesbos and spoken with Sappho herself. They eventually came to realize that I understood their relationship and after years became decades we moved from London to the country, where Christine became my “Wife” and Emily became my “Widowed Sister” so that the girls could get by with relatively little problem. My appearance soon raised further questions with Emily, but at that point she accepted my vague answers with a small smile and a wry joke. It was when we had to move the third time, where Christine became my spinster aunt, and I became Emily’s son that I finally sat down with them and revealed what I was. It went over fairly well, but at that stage they had already accepted my divergence from mainstream humanity. “You’re my friend.” Emily had repeated, over four decades separating my words from hers. “Nothing changes that.” It was 1598 and I had just cleaned Emily and Christine’s grave stones. They seemed at peace beside one another in the churchyard, a fact I found solace in before returning to the task I had set myself. The Irish were trying to throw off the yolk of English oppression and there on the battlefield I put to work the skills I had honed in caring for my two friends throughout their life. I sewed the wounds of an English pikeman that had fallen victim to the claymore of a scottish mercenary. I treated the broken arm of an Irishman that had been separated from his kinsmen and run through with a spear. I shepherded villagers out from their town before the army of Robert Devereux could trample them into the mud. It was 1701 and I was headed for the New World with a ship full of others escaping the Spanish Inquisition, who had began a renewed hunt for those bearing the devil’s touch. Again I tend to the sick, because it has become a habit for me. If only the poor could afford the medicines of rich men. It was 1850 and I was running. We just needed to reach the border, where my Comanche friends would take over, but on our heels was a US Marshal that didn’t take kindly to people who freed slaves. I fired behind with my revolver, missing the Marshal by mere inches and forcing him to pull his horse to the side so that trees would give him cover. We were approaching the site and I could taste the freedom my friends deserved. I stopped in my tracks and waved them on, hoping to keep the Marshall busy while they escaped with the Natives and made their way to Canada. A few bullets weren’t enough to take me down, and it would be worth the reward. It was 1999 and Lana was talking to one of the boom operators. “I don’t know how to do it, I’m just not earning enough to put Casey through school and with my wife’s scoliosis acting up our medical bills are just…” Jack sighed. “It’s all just a little much right now.” “We’ll sort something out.” Lana promised, patting his shoulder. It was 1999 and I was in Lana and Lilly’s office. “You want us to do what?” Lilly asks with a gobsmacked expression. “Donate it all to the crew.” I repeated. “I’ve made enough right now, I can go without another ten million, especially if it means they earn what they’re worth.” “This is just… You don’t really see this happen in Hollywood.” Lana said, shaking her head. “Especially not from someone so young.” “Oh, it’s nothing.” I said, waving it off. “People my age should know better by now.” It was 1999 and a letter had been left in my trailer. Work on the movie had closed down for the last time and I was just going to fetch my laptop. Curiously I opened the letter, the writer had left out their name, but I had a feeling I knew who had left this two word note for me to find. The cursive letters were in an almost completely different language, but they reminded me of a study in London, where I taught a young girl to write. Now, thousands of years and miles apart, I found the same satisfaction in how I ended up spending my immortal life. “Thanks, Keanu.” Read the note.

[saraaaisabelll]

Is this love?...

A question I have been asking myself for over 3 years now. About the same person, no matter who comes in my path, nothing can erase him. The moments I shared with him can become a blur now and again, but they always seem to have a way of hitting me in the heart, mind and gut so vividly that I almost freeze when it happens. I can almost always transport, what feels like, my soul back to the moments I loved so much with him. And it fills me with so much happiness, warmth, and sometimes sadness. 

Although we had attended the same school system, pretty much our entire adolescent lives, we officially became apart of each other’s lives December 2014. It was just a few days before Christmas that you “slid in my DM’s” , but I never took your approach to me in that context as anything bad or corny. We never really had seen one another in person since high school , or so I assumed. I can specifically remember you telling me how you used to see me in all sorts of places, but always with my ex. Which made my entire body blush on the inside. Were you watching me?

We hit it off almost right away. I remember you coming over to my apartment so many nights and us just vibing, talking and smoking. I remember how nervous I used to feel around you, that good nervous that makes your bones feel like they’re going to melt any second. I specifically remember how your voice had me in this trance-like state , so deep yet so delicate. I hung of every other word you spoke. And all you could see was my goofy smile. I remember one of the first times we actually ate out together, we went to get wings. I remember the exact outfit I wore and how you came over while I was finishing up curling my long hair. I remember when we got there how I was scared to eat wings in front of you and you tried your best to show me that it didn’t matter if I got messy while eating. 

I’ll never forget New Years Eve. I remember that night very clearly as well. It was freezing, and my dumb ass wanted to wear a mini skirt. I was alone all night, past 12, wondering where you were. I was disappointed that we weren’t together for the ball drop, and thats when I knew something was happening inside my heart for you, I had gotten attached. But you eventually showed up, I can’t remember if you apologized, I feel like you did but you had mentioned that we didn’t really plan on being together for 12AM to hit & that you were with your friends. So we carried on into the night, meeting up with my friend at a bar & us heading to her family’s party. We dropped her off and took a ride down the block to smoke. I remember getting SO stuck to a point where I told you we had to go and you needed to drive us back home. At this point we had yet to make love and I was in a mix of dying to feel all of you but loving every moment of getting to know all of you. I remember us coming home and I asked you to stay. I remember me getting under the covers and you decided to sleep above the sheets under a blanket. We cuddled to sleep that night without any moves being made. I remember you kissing me on my ear as I laid on my side in bed. That memory always makes my heart flutter.

The night we made love always comes back to me in bits and pieces. Although I can recall the many times after that we made love, this specific time doesn’t quite come to me so well. I remember exactly what we were doing prior and how it started. We were watching Guardians of the Galaxy and it had ended. We were cuddled on of the couches and I looked up at you and we started kissing, and it got more and more intense as the credit screen rolled behind us in the background. I remember standing up and taking your hand & leading you into my room. But sadly from there I can’t remember, and I have no idea why.  But I do remember that I had never felt more pleasured and loved at the same time than I had every time I was with you.

Weeks passed that felt like months. Making wonderful love, sharing ourselves with one another, and always going to see movies was our thing. But at the time you met me, even you knew, I had a lot of growing to do and eventually I allowed my ego and insecurities get the best of me. Something wanted to tell me you weren’t loyal and I sadly opened those flood gates. After our first fight things never really felt like they mended completely, they never went back to the same place for us. I had broken your trust by not trusting you, and after all these years I still don’t think I’m fully able to forgive myself for being so foolish. 

As time continued our arguments became more and more frequent. On the one side was me, a lost, insecure, dependent young woman who just didn’t want to lose love again. And on the other side was a young man growing into himself more and more as the seconds of each hour or each day passed. Was it that you maybe just outgrew me in the midst of it all? I’d never really get to have that answer come out of you in person because that summer I decided to move to D.C. Feeling that it was the right choice & allowing myself to have space from whatever was between us because I was damaging myself about it. You didn’t really ever express sadness or pain for me when I left. I remember how bad I wanted to see you on my last day there & you never came. Why? Was it now your ego getting the best of you? I’ll never know. You never really liked to open up about your feelings once things started to change. I’m so sorry for being the cause of that wall you built.

We kept in touch for a few months, I wanted you so badly but I could feel the change in you, and it was breaking my heart every time we spoke. That was the first time I tried to cut you out of my life, which would eventually fail. I had met someone that winter who I thought was such a great match for me, he was fun, energetic, talkative & I guess his sex helped me to forget how you felt. I ended up getting pregnant by him, but knew I couldn’t go through with it. That was the end to the relationship between the both of us, and I could only think of calling you. Which I think may have only pushed you further away from me by hearing what had happened, but you stuck by me and consoled me everyday that I needed you. I’ll never forget that, thank you.

As 2016 came into the picture so did another relationship. I had seen you maybe once between this lull of relationships I had. This time it was someone who also lived back home & as I continued traveling back to see him I found myself feeling pulled back to you more and more. Finally, as summer was coming to an end I decided to cut it off with him because I was still in love with you. I told him everything, how I still felt about you and that I couldn’t do that to someone knowing I would never fully be committed to them. And so the Fall began.

I remember the month or weeks prior to you coming to visit me for the first time I had visited New York by myself. I was on this personal high & felt myself sprouting roots and growing into someone I knew I was meant to be. And all I could, and still do, think about was how you were the one to push me into this growth and transition in life. So a couple weeks later you came to visit me in December. Thinking now how ironic it was that it was around the same time that we first met. I was living in this small, old, basement & you teased me, innocently, for it. I remember walking to go get groceries with you the day you arrived. And on one of the days you were there we got into the African American History Museum on sheer luck! But I knew you were so thrilled. 

After you left, things somewhat dimmed. I ended up traveling to Colombia later on that month to see my family & thats when I decided, internally, to move here. Time passed and we ended up planning for you to come again during March of 2017. Just a week or two before my birthday. I took you to the Zoo & my favorite neighborhood in the city. I remember you accidentally missed your bus back so you had to wait til later that night to go home. And I can’t say I wasn’t happy about that. But I remember pouring my heart out to you that day in my room, your head pressed against my stomach as I held onto you like I was never going to see you again. You were still a man of few words. You had dinner at my job & got in your lyft to the station. I wouldn’t see you again til mid April.

I came down a few times during that spring/summer and you came up once more during the summer with your family. That was after I had moved into my new room & I had just gotten Calvin. You were weird about him because you’re not really a ‘animal person’, but you were cute about it. I remember it was just for one night that I saw you. It was raining horribly & I picked you up at your aunt’s house. We came back to the city and you were hungry but nothing was open, so we had yet another grocery store adventure to add to our list. I remember you met one or two of my roommates and then we headed up to my room. We proceeded to watch Fury, which we never finished because we stopped it and began making love. Although the room was new to me, it was slightly old to the house itself, having a hole in the corner of my ceiling, we could hear the rain leaking in. You, as usual, found humor in it and teased me about it. But that was the last time I actually saw you. 

I traveled home about three more times, making efforts to see you, but never having that effort really come back from you. During the fall I ended up falling for someone else. He was different & I felt you being covered up so well. Things were rocky at the start between he & I, but eventually it became this weird yet passionate love between us. I left home for Colombia on February 20th and we kept our relationship going for a while. It was great but there was a lot of problems as well, and one day something clicked. I fell out of that type of love we had and I didn’t really think about you. But then, little by little, you started haunting my thoughts again. You began popping up in my dreams here and there & then it became almost nightly. I would think about you , but not just a typical thought, it was like we were connecting even though there is this great distance between us. So I decided to message you. I told you how I hadn’t really lost any love for & you told me you didn’t see me in that way.

So I thought to myself , ok well that’s that. But weeks later, here you are, still weighing so heavy on my heart. Flooding my thoughts, making my blood rush and my heart flutter without even being here in the flesh. The thought and memory of you, can’t go away, you’re stuck there. I can’t help but question, still, is this love... ?

[littledonkeyburrito]

My neighbours seeing me naked all the time

1. What gives you anxiety? Having to go do something new

2. Are you the type that’s too ashamed to ask for or use directions? Are you kidding me, I fucking love google maps

3. Were you tired when you woke up this morning? I was when I woke up at 11, but not after I went back to sleep and woke up again at 2pm.

4. When you watch the news, how does it effect your mood? Depends on the news, but it generally has a negative impact. That’s why I avoid watching it.

5. Have you ever taken an online IQ test? What was the result? I actually took a real IQ test once but I was 11 and didn’t know that’s the test I was taking. I think the results came back as the high end of average. When I was in grade 5 I was almost constantly fighting with my best friend at the time, Dylan. It was stressing me out so I asked my mum if I could talk to someone at the school for help so she set me up with one of the school counsellors, I think his name was something like Mr Zagini or Mr Zagami (I remember his two nicknames being Mr zucchini and Mr salami). Anyway, it was mostly stuff I already knew but I got to skip class sometimes for our sessions. I didn’t continue sessions with him in grade 6 (I don’t know why), but he came to me one time and was like “hey I want to do this series of tests with you, are you okay with that?” and I was like “yeah sure” so I did them. Just a bunch of little lateral thinking puzzles which I was well used to doing, due to having been part of the school’s “gifted and talented” program (the instructor of which committed suicide a few years later after the cops found out he was into child porn, but that’s a story for another time I guess) since I was 6 years old. I feel like if I took an IQ test these days I would probably come back as squarely average. I don’t feel that smart since I hit adulthood.

6. Have you ever had anything expensive stolen from you? There was that one time someone broke into my house and stole my potatoes.

7. Can you hear anything right now? A group of drunk people from the bars downstairs

8. Have you ever been to a wedding? A few family weddings, yeah. Next year I will be a groomsman for my friend/old flatmate.

9. What is your favourite kind of pasta? I prefer rice noodles tbh

10. Are you proud of who you are? Sometimes

11. Would you prefer an ice cream sundae or an ice cream cone? Sundae.

12. What time is it? 12:03am

13. Are you good at giving directions? If I have a map, or know where I am, yeah

14. Do you own any Sims games? Which ones? Sims 3, plus pets and supernatural expansions.

15. What is your favourite kind of fruit juice? Probably orange

16. Have you worn a necklace today? I haven’t worn a necklace in years

17. Do your parents smoke cigarettes? Unusually, neither of my parents ever got into smoking

18. What is the color of the curtains in the room you’re in right now? No curtains. I just deal with my neighbours seeing me naked all the time

19. How many instruments do you own/have you owned? Now I just have one guitar but over the years I’ve had 2 acoustic guitars, 2 electric guitars, 2 ukuleles, a bass guitar, a glockenspiel, a full size electric piano, an electric drum kit and an acoustic drum kit.

20. What does one of your T-shirts have written on it? "Netflix”

21. Name a pet you definitely wouldn’t want. Tarantula.

22. Who’s the fifth contact in your phonebook? My aunt

23. If you had to text them something now what would you say? I would say that I’m probably coming back to australia in january and that we should have a family gathering

24. Should you be in bed right now? I haven’t had a bedtime since I was like 13

25. Do you know anyone that has the same birthday? A sort-of-friend’s boyfriend who is also the ex of the girlfriend of one of my best friends. But he’s a year or two younger than me.

26. Would you prefer your partner smaller or taller? I’ve tried both and established that my preference is definitely taller.

27. Do you acknowledge your feelings or ignore them? Depends on the feeling but generally suppress, bottle and ignore.

28. When was the last time someone saw you naked? Back in panama. God, it’s been slow since I’ve been home

29. How would you describe your current mood? Is tipsy a mood?

30. When was the last time you did something you were embarrassed by? Whenever I last got very drunk probably

31. What was the last thing you lied about? I generally don’t like lying so the last time was probably when I was telling my travel group in central america that I had never slept with the tour guide.

32. Where is your favorite place to have sex? Uhh a bed I guess. Although that one time I fooled around in the back of a car was pretty fun too.

33. Do you ever drink or get high alone? I tried getting high alone once and that was no fun. Drunk, yes, like once a week.

34. What type of a drunk are you? Happy and fun

35. When was the last time you revealed your feelings for someone? Were they accepted or rejected? I generally don’t tell guys that I like them. Although tbh I generally don’t develop actual feeling for them so...

36. What was the reason behind your last visit to the hospital? I think that was when a friend had his appendix out and a group of us went to see him. The time before that was a fair bit more distressing though. 

36. What is the “worst” drug you’ve done? Are there any you will never try, or any you want to try? The worst is probably coke. I will never ever ever try meth or heroin. Those are just a baaaaad idea. Nothing that I specifically want to try.

37. When was the last time you were up all night and why? Up the whole night would have been my last night shift in australia. Although there’s been several times since then that I’ve been up until 3am or even sunrise on a night out.

38. Who was the last person to yell at you? Did you yell back? I have absolutely no idea

39. Where did your last injury come from? Uhhh I think my last “injury” was about a month ago when I cut my thumb on a beer can. Hardly an injury though.

40. Where do you like to be kissed? Tbh I quite like being kissed on the neck

41. You have 5 minutes - grab 3 snacks from the grocery store. What are they? A bunch of mandarins, a pack of chips and a block of chocolate probably

42. Dancing, acting, and singing - which two are you best at? None of the above

43. Deep fried Oreos & deep fried pickles - would you try either? I’d try either at least once

44. Funny, charming, cute, romantic, smart - choose only 2 for a potential partner. Funny and cute I think.

45. Snow or sand? Soda or juice? Cake or cookies? Royalty or immortality? Snow, soda, cake, immortality.

46. Which is more important to you: make-up or hair? Hair.

47. What is one tradition that you and your family have? Do you enjoy it? Generally my brother and I spend christmas morning at mum’s house and have breakfast with her and then head to dad’s for the afternoon/evening and have his big full roast christmas dinner with him and sometimes a couple of his friends.

48. You can go back in time & change something in your Mom’s past - what is it? I think I would somehow try to give her more self esteem as a teenager. Or maybe I’d have stopped that one boyfriend from breaking up with her to move to sydney, after which she cried for at least a week. Idk I think I’d have tried to make her see that he was kind of a douche and not worth her time because she only deserves the absolute best.

49. Money doesn’t matter - choose a vacation destination and pick your party: If money is no issue then I would travel from alaska all the way down to the southern-most tip of argentina with whoever wants to join for a section. IRL I kinda plan on travelling mexico to argentina in a year or so anyway.

50. Been on any websites today you wouldn’t want your parents to see? No. I mean, they’d probably be mildly confused as to why I was researching when the shower was invented but it’s not like they’d care.

51. Flip your arm over - can you see your veins? No because I’m wearing a jumper and can’t see my skin through the sleeve obvs.

52. Pick a movie at least 5 years old that you absolutely love: Love and Other Drugs

53. Do you ever buy snacks at the movie theater? What do you get? Sometimes I did in australia but I never do here. I always have dinner beforehand and then just buy a bottle of water from the grocery store next door to take into the theatre. 

54. When was the last time you had to jump? Jump? Uhhhh ... I didn’t have to but I jumped off the front of the boat into the ocean while I was in the San Blas Islands off Panama a couple of months ago. 

55. At what time does it start getting dark where you live? Currently it gets dark around 5:30pm

56. Which is worse: dusting or mopping? I’m not sure I’ve ever dusted in my life.

57. Peanut butter VS. Caramel - which side are you on? Depends on context but probably usually caramel.

58. Have you ever complained to a manager about anything? What was it? I argued with some bond cleaners a bit over a year ago. I didn’t ask to, but I spoke to the manager and I ended up winning the argument.

59. Any idea where the shirt you’re wearing was made? Take a guess. I don’t know, China? Actually, none of the labels seem to specify where it was made.

60. Would you marry somebody who was intensely religious? No because our lifestyles wouldn’t match up.

61. Are you “with” the very last person you kissed? No

62. Ever dated/kissed a someone with the name Casey, Tyler, Ryan, Jordan, Colton, Rebecca, Samantha, Lauren, Taylor, or Ashley? That’s so specific. I think I’ve kissed a rebecca.

63. Was your last kiss, standing up, sitting down, or lying down? Standing up, saying goodbye at the hotel room door.

64. Are you happy with the choices you’ve made? In general, yeah

65. Are you excited for anything? Well, I’m going to Paris next week.

66. Do you hate the last person you kissed? No.

67. You’re stuck in an elevator with one of your worst enemies, what do you do? Scroll through facebook/instagram/whatever on my phone.

68. Will this weekend be a good one? The weekend is over.

69. Do you like to listen to the radio in the car? Nah, I listen to my iPod in the car and the radio at work. I mean, y’know, when I had a car and a job.

70. Do you sleep with a fan on? I literally don’t even have a fan

71. How is your hair right now? In need of a cut.

72. Have you ever broken up with someone for someone else? No.

73. How many windows are open on your computer? 1 window, 4 tabs.

74. How tall are you? ~5′3″ but I slouch

75. Have you ever taken a shower with anyone before? Yeah but tbh I don’t really understand the appeal unless you plan on fucking in the shower which sounds slippery and dangerous.

76. Is your hair clean? Almost always

77. What are you drinking right now? Nothing.

78. Do you wear your seatbelt in the car? Yes, unless I’m in a bus or sometimes I don’t when I’m in a country where the law doesn’t make you wear one. Eg in some countries cabs will have sheets covering the back seats so even if you want to put on the seatbelt you can’t because the clip thing is covered up and you can’t access it.

79. Does someone have feelings for you? Doubt it

80. Have you ever been cheated on? Pretty sure, yeah

81. Are you hard to please? Not at all

82. What are you craving right now? TRAVEL

83. How are you feeling right now? A bit cold

84. What color shirt are you wearing? Tshirt is orange and white. Jumper over it is grey with white stripes.

85. Who is the last person you got a message from? @aturinfortheworse

86. Are you excited for winter? Only if I get to go somewhere with snow (unlikely). I love the cold when I’m actually out and about and doing things but when I’m just sitting at home doing nothing and my feet are so cold they’re in physical pain then I don’t enjoy it so much. This is only a thing I’ve realised recently.

87. When are you at your happiest? When I’m travelling and having adventures.

88. Do you live alone? Yep

89. What do you do to pass time? Netflix, video games, tumblr 90. Do you go clubbing on weekends? When I live in the same city as my friends, sometimes

91. Twin bed, or other? Maybe a couch? What is this even asking? I have a king size bed currently 92. What are three things, that are not hygiene related you do every single day? Eat, check facebook, charge my phone 93. Are you addicted to anything drug like? No. 94. Did you pull a senior prank? They weren’t allowed at my school, but I don’t think I’d have cared enough anyway 95. Did you graduate? Highschool, yes. Uni, no.

96. Any goals? Live comfortably (with a job) in a country other than Australia, preferably a spanish speaking country.

97. Do you miss being a kid? In some ways yes, like not having responsibilities. In other ways no, like not getting laid... I mean, not that I’m getting laid now either...

98. Have you ever been unfaithful in a serious realfionship? Never had a serious relationship. 99. Do you have any tattoos? No. 100. Regrets? Nah. No point regretting things. Just learn and move on.

[inked-convulsion]

Being an Asian nymphomaniac

There’s one thing I noticed about being raised with Asian values, but voluntarily taking up liberalism.

With liberalism (I may be utilizing this term wrongly in this context), everything and anything goes as long as it is not disruptive to society and/or other people. As Wikipedia defines it, “a philosophy or worldview founded on ideas of liberty and equality, supporting ideas and programmes such as freedom of speech, freedom of the press, freedom of religion, free markets, civil rights, gender equality, and international cooperation”. In other words, you do you as long as no one is hurt, and no peace is disrupted. Simple.

But with being Asian, a complex web of values are implemented. To be fair, my parents weren’t too keen on the extremities of Asian or Chinese values, but they did emphasize a few things. Filial piety being one of them - the definition of this term is lost to some, but it generally means being respectful to your parents/guardians in repayment of their efforts in raising and educating you. Conservatism is also one of the recurring themes - do not be too flashy, do not do or say anything that would attract attention. Also, sexual topics are generally taboo unless expressed in an extremely vague way in a tone that is meant to be taken as a rhetorical joke.

I discovered porn - and subsequently my sexuality - at the tender age of 8. We had a computer, and we had dial-up internet. At the time, I didn’t know about clearing your browser history, and I don’t think we had incognito mode at the time. I was confronted gently about my visits to these websites on the internet, and was invited for open conversation about these topics with any of my aunts if I had any questions.

At school, people were only beginning to meddle with puppy love and crushes. I would assume that no one - especially the girls - had developed and/or acknowledged their sexuality at that age, or even if they did, the taboo and controversy with raising and discussing a sexual topic kept their lips sealed. Keep in mind that we were still in primary school, the maximum age at that time being 12 years, and while I still played jump rope and passed notes in class and read the newest Harry Potter book, I indulged in my secret pleasure at home after school. People only knew that I knew what porn was, and some of the things involved - no more.

As I grew older and went to university, my horizons had expanded. I had sex for the first time, and I thought that would be the checkpoint that would end my desire for anything sexual - all this anticipation and masturbation, and now I’ve finally experienced it. So, logically, my thirst should be quenched… right?

Apparently not, and this discrepancy proved to be one of the biggest factors in why my first boyfriend and I fell apart. While I desperately wanted physical interaction, he was fine with just texting; and at one point, even texting was rare. In my frustration at him reprimanding me for sending him nudes, and in my own sexual frustration, my confusion led me to Omegle - naked but headless. I had no significant tattoos to identify my body then, but the guilt overwhelmed me so much that the next day, I fessed up and told him what I did. If there was any more affection left in that relationship at that point, I single-handedly crushed it, along with his trust in relationships.

University was a much more liberal place - sexual topics were discussed openly in hushed voices, and innuendos were abound. There was much less of people just walking away from you if you accidentally cross the line into uncharted territory (for them). I’ve had a friend say she had serious culture shock when she was doing an assignment with me for the first time, how I so openly and candidly discussed my sex life with another friend, and her boyfriend promptly warned her to not be influenced by me.

I’m not sure whether it was the feeling of liberation or just being desperately alone and sexually frustrated, I turned to Omegle again. I don’t know why I did what I did with that particular person, because it was always just getting off then going our separate ways, with the occasional chat. But this particular time, I was given an email address, and I gave mine. I shared a connection with this person that I never experienced before, and would probably never experience for the next few years with anyone. We somehow understood each other - how it felt to be a social outcast for thinking the way we did, how sex was a central part of our lives, and a mutual understanding to how fleeting life can be.

He had a girlfriend, so I was the third person of the relationship for a while. Looking back now I wouldn’t call it love, but it was indeed an emotional connection that surpassed all of my previous and limited future connections with guys. It was an unspoken mutual understanding, and we moved on. Friends and family called it just a man’s lust and the desire for some adventure. Perhaps it was, because our number of email dwindled as we continued on with our mutual lives, but I really doubt that lust itself is sufficient to make a man fly halfway across the world for a naive girl.

The next 3-4 years from there proved to be hell - for self esteem, and for my sexual identity. I went through one guy after another, each time convinced that perhaps something would blossom from there, but each time I was either just an easy girl or a temporary replacement for someone’s lost love. I think I maintained a naive outlook to love and relationships, but it was tinged with fear that my sexual needs would somehow manipulate my brain into thinking that what I felt for this person is more than just a carnal instinct to get myself off. At one point I was spending a lot of time with this group who had already plans to take turns with me after one of them took off the condom halfway and came in my mouth without warning - “she’s eager to please and doesn’t complain”. This one guy said he hated girls like me, who had no dignity and would sleep with anyone.

We ended up in a roller coaster of a relationship, one that warped my perception to everything, and has cemented a paranoia in me that I wished would just go away. Everything that he promised was flushed down the drain, and then I realized I was a project - to see if he could mold me into a trophy girlfriend and subsequently wife, giving him an ego-boosting label called “wild girl tamer”. His friends were impressed at how much less I swore and how much less ‘wild’ I was, when in fact I just didn’t want to be berated time and time again for being comfortable.

In this relationship, my desire for light bondage developed, perhaps because I felt like neither of us had control over anything, and I think by trying to give him “control” in the bedroom, I could regain control of some aspects of my life. It was not meant to be, as he preferred vanilla love-making, clashing with how I liked it. The sexual chemistry was just not there, and in his frustration that I wasn’t satisfied, the blame turned to how much of a slut I was, how I had easily let men touch me, giving away my value and dignity. And how my consensual one-time sexual encounters were so much more morally unacceptable than paying for a woman who sells sex, and so was sharing said woman with another guy.

As desperately as I tried, holding onto my sexuality wasn’t an option - I soon felt not only frustration, but shame at being so sexually needy. It was like being Snow Flower as Lily sang her Letter of Vituperation in Snow Flower and the Secret Fan - condemned to enjoying and desiring sex as a woman, while men were openly allowed to objectify and use women to his pleasure.

It became one of the many things that I was paranoid about. I may go out with a male friend, and even though my current SO encourages it, I still return anxious, walking on eggshells as I recounted my outing with said friend. I feel my cheeks burn with shame when I try to initiate something sexual, or even send a sexy text or a nude. It feels so slutty to constantly put yourself out there, even if it’s exclusively only to one person.

Since my first time, it has always been an imbalance where I would want it extremely frequently, but the guys just didn’t. While many guys talked about their fantasies about having a girlfriend who would want it all the time, somehow most of the guys I’ve committed to just didn’t want it so much. I also indirectly linked this lack of desire for my flesh to my self-esteem - I wasn’t attractive enough for them to desire me, so I’d act sluttier, much to their dismay and the complete opposite of their pleas for me to be more modest. And each session would leave me wanting more, because it was always vanilla, missionary, less than enthusiastic, and always was rushed.

So now I’m stuck between wanting to be a decent Asian girlfriend, and wanting to be the girlfriend who would pin their boyfriend down daily. It’s come to a point where I’d be scrolling through porn Tumblrs, then suddenly stopping myself and Googling why I have the sex drive that I have. It’s a daily conflict where the Asian in me wants to be a model daughter and girlfriend, while the liberal in me wants myself liberated of the guilt and pressure of not being said model daughter and girlfriend.

Well, at least now it’s just in my head.

[journalingm]

Being forced out of my house in the middle of a pandemic has been one of the most stressful events of my life. More so than the five months I loved in Florida before meeting my now wife, but that's another story. To know everything that happened, you need a little bit of context on my family.

My mom was adopted as a baby. Up until about 3 years ago, she didn't know anyone from her biological family, but she didn't need to because the family that adopted her (my grandparents, who I'm currently staying with) gave her, and my brother and I, everything we wanted. The only reason we found my mom's biological sister was because she reached out to us after my biological grandmother died. Apparently she was hellbent on keeping my mom a secret until her death.

Anyways, we all met and kept in touch with my "aunt" (we'll call her C). It was about a two years ago when my wife and I were living in Florida when we decided to move back to Ohio (I'm from Ohio, never mentioned that). Rent was just getting to be too expensive for us and my wife was looking to get away from the constant heat. I was also missing my family terribly. C offered to let us rent the house she was planning to sell for relatively cheap for a year, and if we decided to stay after that, the rent would be bumped up to the mortgage cost, which was still doable. The only stipulation was to make some minor repairs and put some fresh paint on the interior. Naturally, we agreed.

We took a U-Haul from Florida to Ohio overnight around the first of March last year. Got settled, had a couple parties, got new jobs, and knocked out the tasks as per our agreement within a few months. The area was great (except for the Debbies across the street), we had a yard for dogs, and I was close to my family again. Everything sailed smoothly, right up until a few months ago.

C told my mother, who then told my wife and I, that we had a year to find a new place to live. She wasn't aware of the Capital Gains Tax that she had to pay if we rented from her for longer than two years, and didn't feel like paying it, so out we were to go. It stressed us out at first, but we came up with a plan: work our asses off, save money, fix our credit, have a small wedding with family (we got legally married in secret), and just buy a house before August of next year. After meeting with some people, we found it was totally doable. We had a small spark of optimism again. But of course, things are never that easy.

You see, C is a seamstress by trade. She is a costumer for shows on cruise ships, so she travels all over and sees the world, and it paid pretty decently. COVID kinda ruined that for her, so she went on unemployment, collectIng her $600 per week while doing small commissions and stuff. She still came out pretty good for herself. Then she said that the roof on her new house was leaking, and because she was unemployment, she couldn't get approved for a loan to fix it.

So she tells my wife and I that we have 30 days to move out, because she's putting the house back on the market immediately and selling it to the first offer.

We were crushed. We tried our best to sympathize, but everything changed for the worst and now our plans were ruined. We were supposed to be having a proper wedding next June, but now all money was going to have to go towards anything we could find to live in. Fun fact: nobody is moving out of their apartments in the moddle of a pandemic. The places that had occupancy either didn't allow pets or was way out of our budget. We ultimately had to ask my grandparents if we could stay with them until we can secure a decent place to live, because the alternative was moving back to Florida to stay with my wife's aunt. Which brings us to today.

Sounds simple and clean cut, right? Not so much. Turns out C had been offered multiple jobs, some paying just as much, if not more, than she was already making. But she declined all of them. She was making basically free money to stay at home and only work on making cloth masks for her friends. Why would she give that up?

After my mom and I found out about that detail, a lot of other truths came flooding out. Her realtor told us that she said, "I don't care if my family hates me after this. This is what I'm doing."

How do you do that? Your options are to take a job, knowing that would get you the small loan you need to fix your ceiling and not displace your nephew and niece-in-law without so much as a month's notice, or shrug and ruin your relationship with your found family because doing next to nothing is easier? We were heartbroken, angry, and sometimes in the days to follow, suicidal.

The weeks leading to our departure from that house were the worst of all. While we tried to sleep during the day for our night shift jobs, C was sending contractors, landscapers, even interested buyers over to the house, and always asking if we're close to getting packed up instead of asking how we were doing mentally. It was a complete 180 from the woman we grew to love. Now we can barely stand the sight of her.

Once we had moved the non-essential items to a storage unit and cleaned out the house, we moved to my grandparents, an hour and 40 minutes from our job. My grandparents aren't keen on our animals, so they stay with my mom and we visit them as much as we can between sleep and work. It's heartbreaking to not be with them as much as we used to be, but its good fuel for the fire of getting our shit together.

I'm hoping that's soon.

[papermoth-bird-blog]

Ontario: Catching up with time.

There is a scene in Big Fish, in which Edward, the main character, explains the old cliche “Time freezes when you meet the love of your life”. He muses further, saying “what they don’t tell you is that it has a nasty habit of speeding up after, to make up for lost time”. Being one of my favourite films, I think of this moment often… and often find that it appears in similar ways in my life.

It happened first in Mexico. I looked at a calendar and found myself more than halfway through my trip. Of course, it is a glass half-full, half-empty situation. But time is like water, the more we cling to it, the more it slips through our fingers. The only way to enjoy it, is to jump in- head underwater, for as long as you can. The times I checked my watch, a calendar, it was like taking breaths- necessary, but also stole those moments of subversive bliss. The more I breathed, the more I wanted to never leave the moment. And with that, my writing practice faltered too.

For the sake of my future self, who undoubtedly as just as flimsy as a memory of myself at the present, I find it important to reflect on the two weeks that have flickered by since the last I wrote. They are mostly about Ontario, even though I find myself currently in Amsterdam (with an ever-expanding mind-ramble).

So I shall start where I left off:

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When it comes to my own story, I doubt there is anyone that is more surprised by my path as myself. The biggest part of healing my emotional wounds came in the form of delicately unraveling my own narrative. Re-evaluating what I gripped onto as “me” or what I “like” or, more so what I didn’t. Toronto cleansed me in that sense, freeing myself of my ego, and changing my mind, about how much change within a person is really possible. (I, others, the “stationary” memories I had of this city previous to this visit).

I found myself reflected back to me in different facets of the city- version that I recognized, but abstracted from the forms I thought I knew. I lingered around Kensington market, more times than I expected too. On the first few days I did so, I took my brother out to help him pick out shoes & new clothes. He is a senior in high school now. As we shifted through clothes on the rack, I found my mind flickering with memories of myself in the same spot, at the same age. I remembered how I felt & thought. Those parts still sit in my mind, but like some strange film that I once acted in. I am not ashamed or disappointed, in anyway, of the teenager I was. I am, very glad to be changed now- by experiences both bright & darker. The ghosts of my former selves followed me throughout the city- and then the countryside.

Though I really wanted to go see Homeshake with my brother, I decided to let him go with his friend instead. I remember Ali & I going to every concert we could get our hands on in high school. Though Isaac doesn’t seem to get into much trouble, I figure it best to at least give him the opportunity to if he feels the need ever. So I stayed at home and chatted with my mom about ordinary things. While we spoke, I cuddled up to our (now quite elderly) dog Harley. My overalls quickly became covered in blonde retriever hair, which I have not yet been able to get all off. As I drifted to sleep on the dog bed, my mother & I mused about the day we adopted him. How strange it is, that that was 13 (nearly 14) years ago now.

I often borrowed my mother’s red flannel hunting jacket, as I was without a coat & Toronto was still to host a few more light snowstorms. As I didn’t actually experience much of ‘true’ winter, I was glad to see the snow. I could tell those that had been in the city over the winter, were quite finished with it.

Though I grew up there, I always feel at a loss for who to reach out to when I am in town. I’ve fallen out of touch with many of my old friends there- mostly because many of my friends were friends of circumstance, and without our shared context, there is not much tying us together in conversation. Toronto, in my mind, was always more about family than friends. That being said, I did hang out with a few friends in the city.

I even hung out with an old lover of mine. There was a funny tension certainly, but it was a pretty nice hangout. Mostly, he just showed me around his studio space & all the projects he’d been working on since we last saw each other a couple years ago. It was nice to see a friendly face, especially a friend that could remind me of who I am in my adult life. We talked about a lot of things, but one that we shared is that we were both processing deaths of people close to us. It was nice to talk about, not that I needed more people to talk about it with, more so, because it gave me a huge sense of perspective. I was able to witness how far I’ve come in grounding & processing those deaths.

The days following, I found myself deep in introspection. My Aunt Jeannie is a ceramic artist & she invited me to play around in her studio to keep her company. I was more than happy to keep her company. With a head so full of thoughts, it was nice to able to translate them into molded forms. I built pots & bowls for my new apartment, and less practical things too. I built lace- inspired vases to host dried flowers in the fall. And most excitingly, many faces & hands that I hope to make into dolls when I am able to finally get them to Halifax. It was nice to spend one on one time with Jeannie as well- family gatherings can quickly become so loud & hectic; it’s hard to have a properly threaded conversation.

When I got home, my brother & I had our picture taken (quite formally) by my mom. It was kind of goofy, but nice. I’m starting to realize how important it is to actively capture memories (with a memory like mine)- yes, in ways, it’s true, it is kind of an act of “un-presencing”, but one for posterity’s sake. In a way though, also helps celebrate the present.

After another long day at the studio, I did end up making plans with another friend of mine. I met my friend Rachelle at work, but we have quite a bit in common. She just moved to the city from Halifax to pursue a career in Costume design- which is actually what I was studying when I first moved to Halifax. I did my best to help give her insight into Toronto, and what area she should look at moving to. We met up in the west end- the area that she was looking at. A friend of my sister’s, Eliza Nemi, just put out a really awesome EP called ‘Vinegar’. Eliza was playing a show at the Monarch Tavern with another friend of a friend called Luka. I’ve loved his music for so long- His song ‘Oh my heart is full’ is one that is pretty permanently stuck in my head.

Being at the show was, again, strange but lovely. A space between two worlds. Two different versions of my own past, combined. It was very quiet at first, but that made it easier to find Rachelle, who had brought along her friend Jaya. A few other girls from costume studies met up with us & it quickly became a conversation exclusively about that. I honestly didn’t mind, because by that time many people rolled into the room. There were, surprisingly enough, a whole bunch of familiar faces from my Halifax world. I chatted with my sister’s friend Nicholas, then Peter. Not long into it, I also spotted my friend Allie, who I haven’t seen since university. It was nice seeing everyone, but I also found myself seeking moments alone, to just feel the music & keep my own company. Eliza’s set was as if an elf had come experience city life. Before her, was another talented female songwriter Le Ren- who did some country-pop tunes that I was actually very impressed by.

During the tail end of Eliza’s set, I pushed my way towards the bar to grab a glass of water. There was a woman in front of me who, herself, was getting a glass. She spun around to offer me the pitcher. It was quite comical how we both did an over-dramatic triple-take. She shouted over the music “I know you! I know your hair. How do I know you?” I have always been rather good at names and faces- and it didn’t take long for me to shuffle through circumstances to figure where she fit in. Last fall, she had come down to play a house show in Lunenburg with an old boyfriend of mine. We quickly fell into conversation & she told me she was about to leave to go on tour with Tim Baker & invited me to the show they are playing in Halifax. I do hope I am able to go, but I am unsure of the timing & how that will work with my schedule. Regardless, its funny circumstances like that that give me comfort in the workings of this tiny world we have. (something I have been learning A LOT about recently).

There were more familiar faces still lingering around the bar- but I felt it was the time to leave, so I did. It’s good I did too- because, as it happens, I somehow drained both my prestopasses without realizing. By sheer dumb-luck, or rather a startling act of kindness I’ve never experienced in Toronto, the bus driver just waved me in the street car without any form of payment. I’m not entirely sure why, but I didn’t ask questions and ran to the back to make myself as small as possible- as if hiding in case he changed his mind.

I was quite tired by that point, and missed my stop somehow.

By time I found myself getting off the bus I was terribly impatient to be home and so I ran the rest of the way. This impatience echoed the feeling I was getting about the city itself- a general restlessness. As if I had come to the city to accomplish something, despite me not being specifically clear what that was. These thoughts raced through my mind as I ran down the dark of the avenue I grew up on. I lay on my parent’s front porch for a moment to still my mind & heart. When I walked through the door, my brother was sitting on the velvet couch singing a song that was so familiar I teared up instantly.

As kids, my cousins, siblings & I watched the movie Dan in Real Life whenever we had the chance- and notably on every thanksgiving since it was released. Sondre Lerche wrote the soundtrack, and we’ve listened to the album more times than I could possibly count.  So, my brother sat and played ‘Modern Nature’ over and over throughout the evening. We worked on harmonies until the early morning hours. It was so lovely to work creatively with my brother in that way. It is not often we find moments to do so.

The following day, Isaac played in the New Orleans Jazz band at Massey Hall. Regrettably, I missed it, because Morgan had finally charged his phone. Which meant he called me & came to whisk me off to the woods of Willow Beach, Ontario. An adventure, I was eager to fall into, though it would have certainly been nice to see Isaac perform once more.