#fuck me i spent the past four months getting pissed thinking 'am i gonna miss out on it' like i damn near missed celia's

[alteredphoenix]

TFW I have to wait until September before I can do any fan art and fics for Michelle’s birthday, so now I’m like:

[raineydays411]

My Father's daughter pt1

Summary: After the disastrous gala, you get an unexpected visit from your “mother”and her family. 

A/n: Hello so I feel like the mom character should have a name, so from here on out, your mother's name is Christine. Also i hope y’all like this one cause i feel like it’s going kinda slow.

Growing up was rough. 

Because your mother decided that you and Tony weren’t worth the effort, you had to mature pretty quickly. You’re father had fallen into this deep depression, where he can barely take care of himself. You had to make sure that your father woke up on time for meetings, made sure he ate, drank water, and inevitably had to make sure that he didn’t choke on his own vomit when he got shitfaced. 

Needless to say, you were very mature for nine years old.

But then, a light in the form of Virginia Potts came into your lives. She saw the way you had taken on the role of Tonys caregiver, and was heartbroken. At first she thought it was just pure negligence from Tonys end, but as she spent more time with the both of you, she realized that Tony loved you more than anything in this world. So she stuck around. 

At first you were weary of her. Not really trusting towards older woman, or motherly figures as you were scorned once. But she never gave up. Not on you or your father. No, she stayed even when you would run away on under her watch. She stayed even when you would try and steal your fathers cars for a quick joy ride through Manhattan. And she stayed when you broke down after your mother had people come pick up all her belongings from the Tower, not bothering to come herself and say goodbye. 

She didn’t leave. She held you as you screamed and sobbed as the men packed away everything she owned. She held you even when you squirmed and scratched at her arms to get away. And she held you as you gave up and silently cried then eventually fell asleep, tightly clutching her midsection. 

That's when you started to come around. You stopped running away whenever your father would leave you with her, wouldn’t talk back when she asked you to pick up a mess, and you even helped her out when some creep intern decided to put the moves on her during a company meeting. 

It wasn’t until your father went missing when you truly saw her as someone you could trust. It was the worst three months of your life.  Another parent gone suddenly from your life. You were relocated to mansion in Malibu, a big empty place where the halls echoed as you walked through them. ANd you had thought that Pepper was going to stay back in New York, she wasn’t your assistant after all. You were shocked to see her at the airport, suitcase in tow with a determined look.

Seeing the look of surprise on your face she stated,

“ I’m not going to let you do this alone.” ,then grabbed your hand to lead you through terminal.

You were grateful that she only acknowledged your tears when you were in the privacy of the private jet. She rubbed your back as you let the tears run down your face. The whole three months that you were in her care, your perspective changed.

She asked about your day, made sure you ate, tucked you in and held you whenever you had nightmares. With in that three month period, Pepper showed you what it was like to have a mother again. And she never let you down. 

Then your dad came home, and your family was complete. You were ecstatic when they started dating and even more so when your father announced that they were going to get engaged.

And even though it took years, you finally trusted Pepper enough to see her as your mother. You were happy. 

Which is why you were extra pissed when you came home from your mother-daughter day and saw your biological mother with Bruce Wayne in the common room. They were sitting on the couch and were getting glared at by the Avengers that were home from missions,(Natasha, Steve, and Sam). 

“Dad, what’s going on?” You ask, looking past the hopeful and curious gazes from the couch. 

“Kid, I think you better sit down.” Tony said through slightly clenched teeth. His face was grim, as he looked past you and made eye contact with Pepper. They had a silent conversation with their eyes, and she nodded. She squeezed your shoulders and took your bags, then with a quick glare she had the rest of the room cleared except for the four of you. 

You took a seat across from your mother, Christine and Bruce. She sent a smile your way and was met with a blank look, “ Dad, what’s going on?”

He sighs and makes his way over to were you were seated, “I don’t know, Christine, maybe you should explain.” 

His tone indicated that he knew why she was here, but wanted her to sound stupid. Pepper came over and sat on the t other side of you. 

Christine glanced at the Pepper and cleared her throat, “Perhaps should be kept between family?”

You scoffed, “ Considering that Pep has been around longer than you ever have been, you have no right to decide who’s family to me and whos not.” 

You see Pepper sit up straighter with pride and mother slump. 

You sigh, “ What are you doing here?” 

She looks at Bruce, who you honestly forgot was still there, “ Y/n...I want you to come home with us.” 

A silence filled the room. You felt Pepper tense up at the words and saw your dads and clench into a fist. 

You however just stared in utter disbelief. 

“What.” 

“I know it's far fetched.” Your mother starts, ignoring your scoff, “ But i really do think it would benefit you to come to Gotham with us, and get to know your siblings!” 

You were seething. 

“My siblings? You mean the family that you left us for.”

“Y/n that’s not-”

“No, You think that you can just waltz into my home, after nine years of absolutely no contact, no birthday cards, not even a text to let me know that you were alive, and expect me to what? Just welcome you into open arms? Leave MY family and go live with you?? Really?”  You say with a scoff.

“Y/n there is a ot of factors you are not considering” Bruce chimes in for the first time.

You turn your glare onto him, “ And what you’re just okay with the fact that your wife has a whole other child who she just fucking abandoned?

“Language.” Your father mutters causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Well, I can’t say this didn’t come as a shock.” Bruce states, “ But, I also know that I love my wife, and that I would welcome you to our home.”

Your throat was hurting with the amount if times you’ve scoffed, “ And I appreciate that, really, but I would never leave my family. Especially not for her.”

Christine's eyes start to tear up, “ Y/n please, a girl needs her mother.”

Those words triggered the anger inside you. Your blood boiled and you can tell that she knew she messed up. 

“Oh? Is that right? What about when I was six and I waited for you to come and take me to that mother's day dance, only you never showed up and I went with my nanny. Or when I was eight and you promised that you would take me to get my ears pierced but then you got a phone call and left so dad took me?” 

You saw the tears run down her face as Bruce looked like he was thinking about something.

“Oh and what about when I was nine. I was nine and you promised to take me to the park. You remember that? Cause I do.” 

Tony tenses next to you, knowing what you were about to say.

“Y/n I can never apologize enough but-” You cut her off

“I was NINE and your promised to take me to the park” You continue, “ But you left. And this time you didn’t come back.” You finish and lean forward, “ Tell me, why the HELL would you think that I would want to come live with you and your fucking family?”

The room was once again engulfed in a tense silence. The only sounds were the sniffling of your mother. 

“You’re my baby girl...my petal. I love you and always have...” She starts, “ My biggest regret is leaving you that day and you have to know that Y/n.”

You feel tears start to rise, a knot in your throat. 

Peppers hand squeezes yours and you calm down and say

“Then you’re gonna have to learn to live with it.” 

Then you stand up and walk right out of the room. Leaving the adults and marching straight to the training rooms to let out some steam. 

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

Back in the common room, a tense silence weighed on the adults. It seemed like no one knew exactly what to say, or they didn’t want to speak up.

Only when Tony cleared his throat did Christine speak up again.

“I didn’t come to cause any trouble.” she said quietly.

“What did you think would happen?”Tony says crossing his arms, “Surely you didn’t expect her to leave with you?”

“No Tony I didn’t. I just thought she would’ve considered it. I am still her mother.”

Pepper snorted, causing the attention to turn to her.

Christine's eyes narrowed, “ And who exactly are you to my daughter?”

Tony tensed, knowing not to mess with Pepper especially when it came to you. He sat back and waited for mamma bear to come out.

Pepper sent a glare her way, “ Me? I’m just the woman who has been raising her for the past nine years.”

Before Christine can get another word on Pepper continued on,

“ I don’t know who you think you are, but you have put Y/n and Tony through a lot of turmoil throughout the years. And now you think you can come in here and demand forgiveness from them?? That’s not happening.”

Bruce started to speak up, “I understand the pain you're family must have gone through, and I am sorry about my...unknowing participation, but Christine is willing to work on her relationship with her daughter.”

Now Tony started speaking, “why? Why now? Y/n is practically an adult, she doesn’t need you anymore. Not like she did before.”

“I’m her mother.” Christine said stubbornly, “ She’ll always need her mother.”

“And she has one. Just not you.” Pepper said standing from her spot, “ I think it’s time for you two to leave. I have to go comfort MY daughter.”

And with that Pepper made her way to the door where you disappeared, knowing exactly where you are. But before she left, she turned and said

“It was lovely to meet you Mrs. Wayne”

and left, leaving Tony to show them to the elevator.

[jiminrings]

petition for stem koo to do all the things for oc he originally said no one does (make her lunchboxes, makes her cheerful...) bc i think that’s a beautiful redemption arc

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

jungkook's day one of his redemption agenda doesn't go that well in the end

"namjoon!!! my man. got any updates for me?"

seokjin strolls coolly on the way to his office, hair slicked back and his dress shirt definitely missing more than a few buttons

what's head admin gonna do??? dress-code him???

fire him???? PLS HE'D BE BETTER OFF!!!!

jin makes student affairs his bitch,,, not the other way around

"for the last time, i am nOt your secretary!!" namjoon stresses as he ceases his typing just to glare at him

he's the university registrar and everyone needs to go through him and at this point he's like a historical landmark from how he's made impact in less than two years

and he and seokjin graduated from the same batch!!!! they're the uncanny always pair for the subjects they shared together

it was definitely weird but functional lol cause one is uptight yet hardworking and the other's relaxed yet smart

sue them for working in the same place they swore they'd never go back to after graduation </3

"if you say-"

"some kid's been waiting for you even before i opened the office. made him sit inside but i just told him that he'd be expelled if he even tries to touch your coffee machine."

namjoon says even before jin could finish the sentence, clearly holding that in until the last minute

jin's obviously a lil annoyed because he's starting work as early as now but the way that joon laid all that out on him is a highlight for him

"thanks. knew you're a secretary for me first and a registrar second."

"no. i'm a national citizen before-"

alright alright he's not listening anymore

this bETTER be important because jin has to hold out his morning routine for whoever this kid is

"what can i possibly do for you today?" he rubs his eyes in preparation, intentionally dragging his steps because just looking at how near he is to his work computer gives him vertigo

"mr. kim!!!"

no

there is no way

there is no fATHOMABLE way that this has got to be happening to seokjin right now

"..... jungkook. what a pleasure."

he sits on his chair, voice gritted and monotone and he could just feel his eye twitching, his clenched fist under his deck now flipping off the kid in secret

it's a last-minute realization that he grasps that jungkook doesn't know you're his friend and it presents some really unique vantage points

like the time that seokjin recounted about a ridiculous student's filing for theft of his lunchboxes and he turned out to be your crush

or when he used his student affairs capabilities and pulled up resources left and right when jungkook broke your heart then seriously contemplated about messing up his academic record

or that time when he delivered a high and sleepy you to bed and then heard the entire conversation (if you could even call it that) between yoongi and this fucking nerd

"i need your help, mr. kim. you're the closest one to me i could ask!!" jungkook pleads desperately, the big doe eyes not really inducing an effect on him whatsoever lmao

"mhmm. i may not be the person for the job. counseling is right next door."

jin hums without even attempting to get jungkook to elaborate because for all he knows, his services aren't exactly open for people who hurt his friends >:(

(a guy once bumped shoulders with yoongi twice on the same day with aTTITUDE!!! and seokjin just dismissed the dude's concerns when a prof of his, who's a buddy of jin's, suddenly gave him an F)

seokjin IS student affairs

“no, no. you’re the only one who can help me!! you see, i-i just feel this brotherly connection with you and-“

“we talked once.”

god what did you used to see in this kid??

a crybaby aND an easily-attached personality to him? god it’s like jungkook’s just asking jin to pick on him

jungkook doesn’t seem to pick up how jin’s making it obvious he really doesn’t want to be of help if it has something to do with him

he likes interrupting and jin’s just the perfect match to interrupt him even earlier so now they just sound like one of those dubsmash snippets

“MR. KIM!!! how do you make lunchboxes? i don't know how.”

jeez where are his manners :O aren’t nerds like him supposed to worship the ground that admins walk on,,,

but what did pique his attention is the content of what jungkook just said

.... lunchboxes?

jin doesn’t want to give the kid benefit of the doubt because the last time he did that, you got hurt!!!!

if he has to hear hyeji’s name one more time, he’d really waste no time in stripping jungkook’s name from the honor roll

“remember that time i thought someone was stealing my lunchboxes?” he quizzes jin like it’s his job, clueless how he’s poking the bear even more with where he decides to go with this, “yeah. turns out no one was.”

was that not made clear the first time around!!!!!! he knows for a fact that a uni student would trade a classmate for a pack of gum but nO ONE would go for stealing a lunchbox

no one wakes up one day and decides that they’d steal a lunchbox. literally none

“but then this random girl claimed that it was hers a-and well i-...”

kook pauses to gauge jin’s reaction, clearly seeing now the one brow that’s raised at him

oh so if jungkook just asked him how to make a lunchbox, and he called h-word random,,,, then that would mean-

“i may have hurt the original giver of my lunchboxes at the process.”

.... that means he’s asking how to make a lunchbox for you

well that was a pleasant surprise

seokjin snorts briefly at that, dryly chuckling with his eyes widening to stress out his “non-threat” that’s pretty mUCH a threat

“wow. i might just give you a sanction for that.”

does he think jungkook’s a good person? lol he has to think about that for a month

was he wrong for hurting you that way? ultimately yes

but did he think at some point that jungkook’s completely heartless and wouldn’t try to redeem himself to his senior? no, not completely

but is he still on your team, regardless if the kid begs for mercy and you forgive him? yea a hundred percent :D yoongi and seokjin could never be brought out from your circle

"and you're doing this why?"

this is a no-brainer question for jungkook but the question still spooks him, feeling the chills at his neck that responding to seokjin is like a sTEPPING STONE when it comes to you

lmao if only he knew

"i uh, i just really wanna make this right. i messed up completely and it's pretty much unforgivable, but i atleast wanna try and give my best even if she doesn't forgive me, y'know?"

interesting

"mhmm. right, right."

???

he's still mad but he appreciates that jeon's doing the bare minimum of redeeming himself

speaking of, the poor kid looks like he's pissing himself because he may have just embarrassed himself with how long the silence stretches out

maybe,,, just maybe jin's gonna try and be a bridge this time

but like as soon as jungkook lacks for a fourth of a second, seokjin would BURN that bridge faster than a blink

"well first of all, you buy a lunchbox."

RIGHT RIGHT

:O

jungkook grabs a literal pocket notebook and jin pretends he didn't see that because WHO the hell does that!!!!

"of course... okay, proceed!! i'm taking notes," jungkook nods in understanding, jotting down the very important advice of not ordering from online because you can't smell the material through a screen

p.s. smelling containers before you buy them is a VITAL thing to do!! it already tells you about the quality at the first sniff

"are you buying one?"

"buying one for every day of the week. i'm thinking if i should get extras too-

"good idea. i recommend buying eight."

alright seokjin's mentioning some very specific colors and schemes and jungkook's not complaining!!!

MAYBE HE'S ONTO SOMETHING!!!

"what meals should i make? i don't even know what she likes!! and even if i knew what, how would i make it?"

why is his heart racing

yoongi may have taught you how to do your taxes but jin taught you how to cook food that's more than four steps!!!

he taught you how to not flinch at all when you're frying and that's the equivalent of raising you to be the woman that you are now <3

look at him and yoongi being your best friends!! teaching you about taxes and being unnerved at cooking oil and busting out a smoke ring or two <3

in fact, the lunches you've cooked for jungkook are all inspired and derived by seokjin!!!

the fact that jungkook's plan isn't bad and the way everything pieces together with his insight,,,, goosebumps luv

"....hypothetically? what i think she'd like?"

jungkook eagerly nods with stars in his eyes, fingers gripping onto his pen for dear life as he tries to channel all his listening techniques into this lecture

"get a bigger notepad."

:O

wow

"look at you!!" yoongi gushes the moment he sees you, waiting at you from the front door

you're going back to your classes again :D

you don't look as worse as you did four days ago!! you're not as sluggish and as animated too

"please don't," you snort as yoongi doesn't seem to stop looking at you like you've saved the world, giving no fight when he insists on carrying your backpack to your first class of the day

the past four days,, yeah they were undoubtedly rough

you slept as much as you could and for the moments you weren't dejected enough to be awake, you spent it surrounding yourself with seokjin and yoongi as much as possible

that's the beauty of hanging out them!!! you're not required to have a single thought lmao

except for the time when yoongi wondered aloud how eels even live and die (or if they even do???) in the first place and that sent everyone in a spiral and you didn't think of jungkook for a single seconds

you're not intimidated to go back to regular programming or with the fact that it's nOT unlikely you'd see a glimpse of jungkook in the hall and such

but that does mean that even if you're the bigger person, you're still gonna avoid him for as long as you could

speaking of!!!! you're looking for the person now that you're eager to find

"taehyung!!"

there he is :D you'd recognize that fluffy mop of permed hair anywhere

"y/n!!"

tae jumps over chairs in excitement to finally see you again after being so worried for you, engulfing you in a hug immediately

alright you see why yoongi thinks he's a golden retriever

you're clearly not a touchy-feely person but you'd let this one pass,, tae helped you (even indirectly) throughout your downtime anyways

"thank you so much for the cookies. i tried taking smaller bites just because i didn't wanna have them disappear that easy," you confess sheepishly, knowing how you had to pull the i just got my heart broken like two days ago multiple times so the two menaces would stop stealing from your stash

:D

jungkook's excited!!!! seokjin may have given him a tip that "he felt it in his gut" that you were gonna go to class today

he came a little late because he wanted to perfect the very loaded lunchbox that's in his backpack right now

oh weird

you're not in your usual chair

bUT jungkook sees a glimpse of your hair and he's certain that you're there and his heart may be beating out of his ribcage

a baby peach lunchbox with a sticker (of what seokjin said he thought you'd like) on the middle of the lid :D

pork katsudon with furikake rice aND coffee jelly pudding on the side!!! it was definitely pressure-racking to strictly adhere to jin's recipe but god does it look worth it

jungkook's only did miniature taste tests on it and he had to stop himself from devouring the lunch that he's made specifically for you

the lunchbox itself is tied neatly with a silk wrap, adding his touch of sewing your name visibly on it aND there's a scribble taped to the lid too

god jungkook really can't wait to make it up to you

sheesh that was one of THEE longest lectures you've ever felt you had

it was actually the same amount of time it's always been but maybe you've been out of practice from just staying at your dorm for days

tae's great company but he could be a little bit chatty!!! you just nod when you feel his voice go up and he apparently gets excited by that easily

.... he apparently also has a small bladder and he told you that within the whole hour of class

"hold on. i gotta pee before next period. go without me!!!' taehyung hurriedly slings his backpack to his arm, looking ridiculous in a rush

tae's sometimes unintentionally funny because you don't even share next period anyways

you're on your way to the exit when a shiny scarf catches the corner of your eye, having to squint at it because wow does it look pretty

is that-

is that your nAME???

you pick it up before you could even rationalize it, realizing then what it was wrapping when you feel the warmth on your hands

:")

"sorry i forgot my headband!!!"

taehyung stumbles back into the room, catching his breath to run back to his seat and fetch the headband he took from his hair to play with awhile ago

he looks shocked to see what's on your hands, flicking his gaze between you and the item but he doesn't think much of it

wOW that's a really shiny scarf!!!

"tae?"

"hmm yeah? what's up?"

he's about to jog back to the comfort room because he hasn't really relieved himself yet, not bearing to leave his headband in the room when anyone could snatch it up

you raise your lunchbox, a thankful gaze on your eyes that looks so close to crying which is why tae's mORE than lost now

"thanks for the lunch."

..

.....

jungkook could only helplessly watch.

[starrynite7114]

Drabble 5

A/N: Hello everyone!  I would just like to thank you for the influx of likes and comments! I really appreciate it and I just love you all for all the loveliness. It definitely keeps the muse strong and now I’m here with an update. 

Hope you all enjoy this one as well. 

I would like to already apologize. <3

Masterlist

tagged list: @iambabyharry​ ; @carlaangel86​ ; @briannab1234​ ; @justahopelessssromantic​

45. “Why are you here?” 46. “I miss you.”

Angel sat outside of Carniceria Reyes, looking at the papers in his hands. He knew he fucked up, knew he should have been better, but he never thought you would walk away and actually had the guts to shut him out. 

‘DIVORCE AGREEMENT’

But you did. 

Not only did you shut him out, but you filed for divorce. 

“Shit,” EZ saw the papers in Angel’s hand over his shoulder and sighed. 

 It’s been eight months since the whole Potter ordeal with Kevin and ever since, Angel’s marriage has been suffering. He began to drift from his wife and spent more time with the rebels. At first, you were very supportive of Angel’s cause, you wanted him away from the cartel as well, to focus on whatever else the MC decided to do. But things changed, especially when you found out Adelita or Luisa, was pregnant with Angel’s child.  

“This is not fucking happening,” Angel was in denial. EZ just disclosed to him that he knew who killed their mother and now, his wife wanted a divorce. 

 “Are you really surprised though?” EZ knew they were still in shaky grounds, but Angel was too naive at times. How could he be surprised with you requesting for a divorce? Angel shut you out and let Adelita in and unfortunately for Angel, you weren’t going to stand by this time around. He had never strayed from you and the one time he did, it destroyed you. 

Finally, six months ago, you walked away and Angel let you. He didn’t even try to argue with you, he just let you go. 

It broke you, it hurt, but you had to accept it. For your own sanity, you had to walk away. You moved back to Temecula, staying away from Angel. He’s been contacting you, but you didn’t answer him. You two were done. The first time you even contacted him was informing him that you will be sending over divorce papers and that you would appreciate it if he just signed the papers. You didn’t want anything, just your freedom.

He called your bluff, thinking you were joking, but he was gravely mistaken. 

“I don’t really fucking need this right now, Ezekiel.” Angel flipped him off. “Blow me.”

“Well tough shit, what did you expect? For her to let you walk all over her? How can you do that to her?” EZ didn’t mean to be scolding his brother, but this was the wake up call he should have given him months ago. EZ and Felipe hoped you two would work it out, but at the same time, they understood why you walked away. They didn’t know Adelita was pregnant, but they definitely knew that Angel had cheated on you. 

“Ezekiel, you can literally go fuck yourself.” Angel stood up, throwing his cigarette butt to the ground, stomping on it with the heel of his feet. “I’m not signing these papers. Where is she?” Angel knew that you kept in contact with EZ and his father. They came to visit you every once in a while however, Angel never tried to insert himself because he had a strong belief you would come back. 

“Come on Angel, just let her go.”

“No. Fuck off Ezekiel, this is my marriage, not yours.”

“Yeah? You don’t act like your fucking married.” EZ knew this would piss Angel off and he was definitely right.

Angel grabbed his shirt, pulling his brother close to his face. “I’m gonna warn you one last time, shut the fuck up.”

 “Angel!” He heard his father’s scolding tone. He let go of EZ, pushing him away. 

Felipe picked up the papers and shook his head. “Just let her go Angel, you caused her enough pain.” 

“How can you say that to me? She’s my wife, nothing is going to change that.”

“But something did, you did. You let her go.” Felipe grimaced, handing the envelope to Angel. “If you truly love her, you’d let her go son. She deserves to be happy.”

“I made her happy.”

“Made, past tense.” EZ pointed out.

 Angel narrowed his eyes at his brother and then his father. “I see as always, golden boy and pops are on the same team.”

“Angel, it’s not like that. Why fight for her now? She’s been gone six months, you never asked for her.” Felipe didn’t want Ezekiel and Angel fighting again. Hell, he didn’t want to fight with his eldest again. 

“Because, she was supposed to come back. But she never did and I don’t know what to do with myself. I made a mistake, a big mistake.” The envelope weighed heavy in his hand. “Pops, come on, where is she?” 

“Pops don’t do it,” 

“Shut up EZ.” 

“She’s at Temecula with her brother. He’s out of town due to a business conference, perfect time to go see her.” Felipe went inside and wrote down her address, came back out and handed it to EZ. “Just go easy on her.’

Angel’s eyebrows furrowed, unsure of his comment. “She got someone new?” 

“No, just, control your temper.” 

 ==================

You yawned, walking around your brother’s empty home. He was still a bachelor but you hoped that he was going to marry his current girlfriend. It seemed that it was heading that way and you just hoped that if they do get married, it didn’t end like yours. 

Grabbing a bottle, you grabbed some breast milk from the freezer, defrosting it. Once it was ready, you transferred it onto a bottle and walked over to your four month old son, Anthony. When you left Angel, you were six months pregnant. You were showing, but he never noticed. How could he? He was always with her. But that was fine, she could have him. You were done. He knew that cheating was a deal breaker for you, he couldn’t recover from this. 

Picking up your son, you placed the bottle at his lips, which he gladly accepted. You breast fed him, but you were slowly using the bottle for him as well. You know you should have brought Anthony to meet Angel, it was selfish of you, but you couldn’t face Angel. Besides, he was having a child with someone else, he could have a family there. 

The doorbell rang making you frown. Anthony was drifting off and the doorbell woke him. 

“Ugh, this better not be one of those people selling insurance.” You made your way over to the door and looked into the peephole and you almost dropped your son. “Fuck,” you cussed under your breath. 

“Y/N, come on, open up.” He called out. 

What was Angel doing here? He didn’t know where you were. But maybe his family finally broke and told him. Maybe he got the divorce agreement and wanted to clarify some details. It was pretty simple. You didn’t want anything besides for him to sign the damn thing. 

You weren’t ready to see him, especially with your son in your arms. But, you had no choice. You know Angel won’t go away.

Opening the door, his eyes immediately landed on Anthony. “What the fuck?” 

“Why are you here?”

“Why am I here? What the fuck is this?” Angel knew there was no way you had a child and hid it from him. This had to be your brother’s kid. Your brother got around, it could have been anyone’s kid, anyone but his. Because you would have told him, furthermore, you wouldn’t file for a divorce if you two had a kid. 

“Please don’t raise your voice, he’s almost asleep.” You begged as you both trained your eyes on your son. Anthony’s eyes were fluttering close. He moved, snuggling onto your breast further. 

He closed the door behind him as you walked over to the room you shared with Anthony. Angel followed you, watching as you softly rocked him to sleep before placing him inside his crib once he was asleep. Turning the baby monitor, you left the door ajar, facing Angel who was leaning on the wall. He followed you over to the kitchen, which was far enough for Anthony to not hear your normal tone of voice, but close enough that could make your way to the room if he cried. 

“Please do not tell me that’s my child.” 

“Why, cause it’s not your precious Luisa’s child? Don’t worry from my understanding in a few months, she’ll be having your child.” You began to wash the dishes, wanting to keep your hands occupied so you didn’t throw anything at him. “So what are you doing here?”

“I received the papers, you’re fucking insane if you think I’m going to sign it.” 

“Angel, this is the only thing I want from you, why can’t you grant me this?” 

“Because, I’m not letting you go. It’s till death do us part.” Angel was being selfish, he knew it. When he found out Adelita was pregnant, he was delighted, but that dread sunk in. He was married and he wasn’t having a child with you, it was with another woman who enticed him. This was all on him, he fucked up. Which was the reason he decided to tell you. He chose to tell you hoping that it would ease the pain, that you would have given him some credit for being truthful. It obviously backfired since you kicked him out of the house. You let him back in, as it was his home as well, but Angel could tell you weren’t the same. Instead of reaching out, instead of fixing things, he moved towards Luisa more. But then, it was more out of spite. He was going to fix things with you, but he gave you some space to just let it all out. Once you would be more reasonable he would speak to you. He planned on telling you that he was staying with you and he would co-parent with Luisa, but otherwise, it was done between them. He wanted to be with you. He made a moment slip of judgment and he regretted it, but he wouldn’t turn away from his own child. 

“Well, you're dead  to me, so I guess that counts.” You informed him. He was dead to you. The Angel you fell in love with wasn’t there anymore. The whole thing with EZ, Potter, the cartel, and the rebels, it changed Angel. You were done. You were very open to him seeing his son, but otherwise, you were done. “If you want to see your son, that’s within your rights, but I have full custody, I won’t settle for anything less.”

“Full custody? Son? You were pregnant?” Angel’s voice raised, then he remembered the sleeping infant in the other room. He breathed deeply and shook his head. “No, that’s not possible because you would have told me.”

“Look, I fucked up, I can admit that. I was being spiteful and I didn’t tell you about your son, but he’s here. Anthony Felipe Reyes.” You had a small smile on your lips, thinking of the only bright spot during this difficult time. “I don’t expect you to be involved, and if you want to be, you are more than welcome to be a part of his life. But it is different from our relationship. I want a divorce, Angel. Nothing is going to change that.”

“How can you not tell me? I know you were upset, but you left me. Why didn’t you come back to me? You’re still my main priority, you’re my wife.” 

“Am I? You sure haven’t treated me as such lately.” You scoffed. “I don’t want to fight Angel, it’s a moot point now. I want a divorce and that’s the only thing I want from you.” 

“I’m not signing those papers, Y/N, listen, I fucked up. I’m sorry, but please don’t leave me, I will do anything to have you back.” Angel closed his eyes, holding onto the kitchen counter, watching as your back was turned to him, washing dishes. “What do I have to do?”

“Nothing,” you turned the water off, turning to face Angel, crossing your arms over your chest. “There’s nothing you can do to fix this. You cheated on me Angel, you broke your vows. At first, I thought that maybe I can move past it, but she’s having your child. I found out the same day you told me that she was pregnant, but I was obviously much further along than her. I was six months along when you told me.” 

Angel’s heart broke hearing your admission. You walked away, fully knowing that you were pregnant with his child. But instead of letting him know, you walked away. In some ways, he couldn’t blame you, he hasn’t been a good husband and he ripped your heart out. 

But that didn’t mean you should have kept his son from him. 

“How can you do this? Would you have told me that I had a child? Does my brother know? Does pop know?” 

“They just found out, they didn’t deliberately hide it from you Angel. They visited me unexpectedly and I couldn’t hide Anthony. I knew as soon as they knew you had a child, they would tell you. Your family loves you Angel, they truly do.” You didn’t want Angel to be further aggravated towards his father and brother. Their relationship was rocky at best, you wanted them to all get along. 

“Were you going to tell me?”

“Yes, it states it on the divorce agreement, I was giving you visitation rights.” You knew Angel didn’t read the agreement whatsoever, which was what you expected. 

“And you expect me to what? Sign the papers and be cool with you and my son staying here while I’m at Santo Padre.” Angel scoffed, trying his best to now yell out. He was frustrated, he may have been late, but he wanted to fix things between you two. 

“You have your son with Adelita, Luisa, whatever the fuck her name is. This isn’t on me, you fucked up. Actions have consequences Angel. I will never take away your right as a father, but I won’t stay with you for our son. I don’t need him growing up in such a toxic environment.”

“Toxic environment? What are you talking about? He has two parents who fucking love him and who love one another.” 

“You just don’t get it,” you sighed. “I can’t be with you. I can’t forget what you did. Before, especially when I found out I was pregnant, I thought I could swallow it, but I couldn’t. I’ve been there for you for the last eleven years. When your mother died, EZ was sent to jail, everything. If you were tired of me, you could have just asked me to go Angel.” You felt the tears well up in your eyes then. Looking up at Angel, you used to feel so much love for the man, but now, it wasn’t the same. All the love you had for him, you transferred to your son. He was your main priority now. 

“I wasn’t, baby,” Angel made his way over to you, but you held your hand up, shaking your head. “Y/N, please, give me another chance. I should have fought for you months ago and I’m an idiot, I’m sorry. But please, give me another chance. We have a son now, we have to think about him.”

“And I am Angel, which is why I’m giving you visitation rights. I won’t fall for this again Angel, you have your opportunity to be with her now, take it.”

“I don’t want to be with her!” Angel yelled out. 

The faint crying was heard through the baby monitor that was on the kitchen counter. You glared at him and made your way over to Anthony. You picked him up, slowly rocked to get him to go back to sleep. He immediately ceased his cries when you had him in your arms. Angel watched from the doorway, not knowing what to do. You gestures for Angel to make his way over to you. 

You were hesitant, but this was his child, so you handed him over. Angel looked frightened. But as he looked at the baby in his arms, his heart swelled. Anthony looked up at his father, his little arm reaching up to him. Angel took his little hand, that wrapped around one of his fingers. Angel felt the tears in his eyes then. He looked up at you and you saw the tears sliding down his cheeks. You were crying already, seeing this moment was quite overwhelming for you.

“Baby, we have a son.” Angel said in awe. “I wasn’t there for you, I should have ran after you.” 

“It doesn’t matter now Angel, our priority is Anthony.” You still kept your distance, not wanting to be near Angel. “I truly do love you Angel, but I don’t see this working. I can never trust you, you broke my trust, you broke me. Just let me go Angel.”

“What about me? I can’t live without you. I made a mistake, but she’s not the person I want. If I could take it back, I would, but I can’t.” Angel held Anthony closed and he saw that he was falling asleep once again his tiny hand still wrapped around one of his fingers. “I miss you, so fucking much.”

“What’s done is done Angel.” You refused to break. You had to do this, for yourself, for Anthony. Angel never had any regard for you when he decided to cheat on you. Instead of running after you stayed with her. How can you trust him that he won’t do it again? “I’m giving you your freedom, take it.”

“I don’t want it. I want to be with you, I want our family to be complete. 

You hated Angel’s stubbornness, but there was nothing that would change your mind. 

“You have two months to sign it, if you don’t, I’ll figure out a way to push it through.”

“So that’s it? You’re done, just like that.” Angel’s defense mechanisms were coming in and you knew it. But it won’t work this time.

“Yeah, I am. You were done before me.”

Angel placed Anthony inside his crib. He walked over to you. 

“This isn’t over.”

“You can believe that all you want, but it is for me.”

Angel looked at you one last time before walking out of the house. If Angel was one thing, he was persistent. His family was going to be complete, he’ll win you back. 

He may not have fought for you before.

Which was a mistake.

But he will now.  

==================

A/N: Sequel?

[salted-cushions]

All the reasons I gave you, the things I wanted and didn’t want - they were real, but they paled next to you. Like candles lit under the midday sun. And I, weak and stupid, watched the sun set on my life for the last time instead of snuffing even one of my candles out. Now they’ve all burned out, and so I’m sitting in the dark with nothing but my regrets to keep me company.

Long-ass emo post that takes a long time to get the the point, be warned.

I have taken up running in the past few weeks. I am not a strong runner, but my aerobic capacity is slowly improving and I’m starting to enjoy it... slightly.

I ran a community 5K this morning, and the emailed me my results about an hour later. I ran it in 33:15, which was much better than last time but still slow as fuck in the grand scheme of things - the fastest guy there posted a time of 17:30ish, which I know because he lapped me about 10 meters before the finish line.

So I was pretty confused when they told me I ran the fastest time in my age category. Like wtf? So I opened the results page and sorted it by age category - and it turns out that out of 182 runners, eight of them were between the ages of 20 and 29.

Where the fuck do I find people my age to make friends with? Most of the people in my course don’t speak english well enough to really get to know them, and besides they tend to form their own little cliques based on nationality - the chinese students have their own little groups, as do the indians and sri lankans. The singaporean and hong kong group is a bit more welcoming (and they tend to speak better english too), but like... I can get along with them well enough, but not well enough to be part of the in crowd, y’know? And it feels kinda weird to be the only white guy hanging out with an entirely asian crew. Plus their main social activities seem to be hot pot and boba tea, neither of which I’m that in to.

I’d really hoped that I’d be able to make some friends doing this running group thing, but I guess only the young and old do it. Ever since I’ve moved back to the suburbs I just never see anyone between highschool age and middle age. And the people who are kinda around my age are like... young families who’re starting out with homeownership and having kids, just at a different stage of life than I am. I guess all the young people are living near unis or towards the city.

A few years ago, I wanted friends who went out and got drunk, had house parties, did drugs and had lots of casual sex. And I had that, for a little while, working at a bar near the city - we’d pull 12 hour shifts, sit in the bar after close and drink our paychecks, hit the clubs and dance for hours, hook up with strangers, crash somewhere for a couple hours sleep and do it all again tomorrow. But it’s not as fulfilling as I thought it would be, I think I only wanted it because I thought I missed out in my teens and early 20s. (Hospitality bosses want their employees to do this, by the way - they’ve created this culture where you basically get abused by them and the customers all day, then spend all your money drinking at your workplace to get the bad feelings out, and then by the time the next shift rolls around you’re so tired and hungover all you want is to get through your shift and get drunk again. It’s disgusting, and I hope I never work at a bar again).

So what sort of friends do I want now? I don’t really know. I want to be able to talk about things that are on my mind, share my accomplishments and have them celebrated, get support when I need it and give it when they do. I want to host dinner parties and cocktail nights, and go to my friends’ dinner parties and cocktail nights. I want to go to nice restaurants and classy bars for celebrations, and maybe hit a club and dance until I can’t stand once or twice a year - but not on a school night, that’s not very smart.

I guess part of my problem is I want to do everything and be accepted everywhere (thanks, ADHD). Not that many people want to go and see the ballet or a musical, and also get high and talk about life, and also exercise every day and be fit and healthy, and also get shitfaced and dance until the sun comes up. People I meet seem to have space in their lives for work or school, family, a couple good friends, and exactly one ‘other’. My ‘other’ is a list a mile long, and everything has to be done at 110% otherwise I’m not interested in the slightest. I miss dancing - but there’s no point taking it up again until I can commit $5k/year and 15+ hours/week to competition training, plus probably another $5k/year on costuming, shoes and travel. I miss world of warcraft - but there’s no point playing unless I’m gonna do 10-15 hours of keystones on top of raiding three nights every week. I miss league of legends - but there’s no point playing unless I’m gonna play four hours a night to keep my skills sharp, oh and also that game makes me so fucking angry that I’ve broken more than one keyboard playing it. I miss martial arts - I kinda wanna do jujitsu, but it’s so expensive and you gotta buy all the gear straight away, and I know that if I get into it I’ll start wanting to train every day and spend all my time and money on it. Plus I don’t always get along with the kind of people who do it - the typical BJJ guy is either an older dude who realised he was getting fat and had a midlife crises, or a younger guy with a shaved head and intense eyes with dark circles whose bought into the culture with a cult-like intensity and has the vibe of being on the precipice of getting an SS tattoo. I miss magic the gathering, but collecting cards for a competitive decks is an incredibly expensive and time-consuming process with significant setbacks every couple months when a new set comes out, plus MTG people tend to be have this unique combination of zero social skills, zero personal hygiene, and intense arrogance that makes them eminently unlikeable.

I like lifting, but I don’t really like gym culture - if it’s powerlifting, it’s all bearded bikie sorta guys listening to heavy metal. If it’s weightlifting, it’s very insular and cliquey (although the scene in my city is very small, so that might be a poor judgement). If it’s ‘bodybuilding’ - not people who compete, but guys who want big pecs and arms, and girls who want a skinny waist and a fat ass - it’s all ‘yeah brah’ meathead vibes and shallow instagramming. Besides, I spent all this money on my home gym stuff, so I can’t really justify paying for a gym membership just for socialising.

I like running, or I’m liking it so far. I don’t know about the people, they seem a bit too... normal for me. Everyone’s chatting about their spouses and kids and dogs, except the little group of competitive runners who seem to be more interested in training than chatting (funny that). Maybe that’s how I find myself and make some friends - keep moving towards having a house and a spouse and kids and a dog. That’s scary though. Is that what I want?

This has been on my mind a lot recently, to be honest. In a year I’ll be finished with my degree (theoretically) and hopefully find a professional, salaried job. What then? Except for the year I decided I would drop out of school and have a career in hospitality (bad idea), that’s been the point where my idea of the future stops for quite a while now. I know I want to buy a house or an apartment at some point, and since I found out that my sister and I are inheriting an interstate property homeownership is actually starting to sound realistic. I know, in broad strokes, the field I want to work in. But... do I want to live in the city and live the urbanite single life? Do I want to have a family and live further out where there’s space and more greenery? If my research project goes well, maybe I could try and get hired on as a research assistant, or if I find something worthwhile I could put together a PhD proposal (lol good luck with my amazing 1.1 GPA). I could work for the local government, or the state government, or the federal government, or a design firm, or a construction firm, or a consulting firm... the options are so many and I don’t even know how to begin evaluating them.

Of course it’s all a bit of a pointless exercise right now, because I’ll honestly take whatever job I can get when I graduate. There’s a lot of jobs for civil grads, but with my awful grades, dodgy resume and just being older than the rest of my cohort, I won’t have the luxury of being choosy. Public, private, non-profit, research, city-based, rural or even interstate - I’ll be submitting as many applications as I can and taking whatever I can get. And that will cut down my options for stuff like where I like and what kind of lifestyle I want to lead, like I can’t be seeing musicals every weekend and frequenting trendy cocktail lounges if I’m living and working off in Traralgon or whatever, and I can’t be living on a ten-acre rural plot with some sheep and a couple of border collies if I need to drive into the city for work every day.

I’m not ready to turn 30. I’m getting my shit together, but it’s so fucking slow and frustrating. At the start of the year I tore up my life and started from scratch - like I have every few years since I turned 16 - but I think and hope that this will be the last time, now that I’m aware of my patterns, medicated, and trying to plan for my future. But making those plans means... I need to figure out who I am and who I want to be. I need to separate what’s a part of me from what’s manifestations of ADHD. I need to figure out what I genuinely like, and what I think I like because it’s novel, or stimulating, or because I saw people doing it and instinctively wanted to mirror them. I need to dig through the ideal version of myself, the person that I want to be, and figure out what pieces are good and what aren’t. A couple years ago, I had this idea that the ideal me would say ‘I’m gonna do what I want, and the people who don’t like that can piss off.’ Well, I woke up one day recently and realised that I had no friends because that attitude had systematically pushed everybody that I cared for out of my life, so that’s one idea that I’m working on getting rid of.

There is one part of that which is very difficult for me to approach, though... and that’s my ex. She told me that she thought I looked hot with a beard, and so that became part of my ideal version of myself. I normally wear stubble these days - but with the nice clean line shaved into my cheek, just like she liked. I tell myself this is the way I think it looks best. But maybe I only do it because my ideal me is built for her. Before I met her, I already wanted to be fit, healthy and strong - dance training, lifting, sometimes running (but never sticking to it). But fitness was a big part of her life, and while we were together I absorbed some of that from her. It would be stupid to drop it from my life altogether, but I can’t help but wonder how much of why and how I do these things is constructed around her.

I never met anyone who understood me like she did. I’ve never liked sharing hobbies with girlfriends - inevitably they don’t quite get it, just as I don’t quite get theirs. Like, girls who wanted to play video games with me didn’t understand my drive to improve and be competitive - how when I play a game I’m constantly striving, in every moment, to be that little bit quicker, more accurate, more efficient, to make the right calls, to pick the right strategies. To them, a game is just a game to play for fun - and there’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s not how I enjoy video games and I’m going to be intensely frustrated for every single second of you clumsily trying to participate in something I’ve spent thousands of hours getting better at. I can’t even play Mario Party without becoming a ruthless monster, please let’s put on a movie or something before my head implodes.

She got it, though. Not with video games - she didn’t give two shits about them - but about fitness. She wasn’t like those people who come to the gym to half-heartedly do a set on every machine and then go home to eat ice cream, or the people who just do an hour of incline walking while watching tv and playing on their phones. She did research, and made intelligent plans, and took it seriously. She’d grit her teeth and push through the shittiest days, where lesser women (and men) would have cut their workout short and gone home. She badly needed to succeed, so badly that every little failure cut her to the quick. Healthy? Fuck no. But just like me. More than me, better than me. We understood each other. And let me tell you, you’ve never known love until you’ve watched your girlfriend grind her way out of a PR squat that by all rights she should have failed - and then seen the elation on her face once she’s racked the bar and realised what she just achieved.

Jesus, I’m close to tears now. I just wanted to bitch about not having any friends and I’ve once again segued into pining over her. God I’m so lonely. Why am I like this?

Reading over that last paragraph... it does sound like I have genuine feelings for her, and not just an obsessive need to recapture the one that got away. So that’s... good, I think. It doesn’t change anything really... it doesn’t uncover a new course of action to take, or instruct on how to manage my feelings better. But I don’t want to be that creepy, obsessive ex. I’ve felt like that a lot over the past couple years, but only internally... I’ve tried to leave her alone and done pretty well, I think. Like yeah, I think about her way too much and stalk her socials pretty regularly, but if she doesn’t see any of that then... it won’t make her uncomfortable. That’s the theory. And I’m getting better with the stalking... I just open her instagram and say to myself ‘see? still blocked and set to private. you didn’t miss anything.’ and then I can close it and go about my day. Not great, but... better than the alternatives for now.

This is where it all comes together. I want to text her, have another shot, lay everything out and say ‘I want now what you wanted from me two years ago.’ And I think that’s an actual desire, even a plan, not just me desperately trying to grab on to the last few shreds of dopamine I could get from her. But... I’m not ready, and it’s not the right time. I need to keep getting my shit together, so I can face her and be proud of myself. I don’t want to be embarrassed by living in an ancient, dirty and broken-down house - but I’m working on that. I don’t want to be embarrassed by my inability to stick to an exercise routine for more than a few months - but I’m working on that. I want be confident when I say I’ll finish my degree this year. I want to be confident when I say that next year I’ll have a job and be looking at buying a house. I want to be confident when I say that I’m quitting smoking - or, better yet, proudly say that it’s been so many weeks since my last cigarette.

I hurt her, in the past. And I regret it, and I’m ashamed - because as I’ve learned more about myself, the reasons are becoming clear. She wasn’t happy, and she would break up with me. I would say, ‘well of course I don’t want that, but you need to do what’s right for you.’ And then I would go cold for a couple of days until she inevitably came crawling back - until the last time, when she didn’t. I shouldn’t have let it go on. And why did I let it? Because I’m weak and selfish. Because I ignore issues that I don’t want to deal with, and happily go on with my life as if they don’t exist. Because I’m desperate for approval and validation, and couldn’t do the right thing by her because it would have meant losing a huge source of that. Because I think I can get away with anything, and I care more about whether there will be immediate consequences for me, rather than if something is right or wrong or affects someone else.

I took so much from her. Her friendship with our other roommate - destroyed, and at the time I said ‘that’s between the two of them,’ but I was the one who came into their lives like a hurricane. Her house - she was the one who had to move, even though she’d lived their long before me - I was the one who should have moved out, but I said to myself ‘she’s the one who’s leaving, that’s her prerogative.’ Her gym - I should have stopped going there when things were moving towards the end, but I didn’t. Then I told myself that we went at different times now and wouldn’t see each other, so it was fine - until one day when she came in, saw me, went to the bathroom and hid for at least an hour until I’d left. It shouldn’t have taken that much to make me change gyms - and for what! That gym was her community, for me it was just the most convenient place that usually had a free squat rack. And I took it from her. All of these things were so easy to justify - ‘I’m gonna do my thing and if anybody doesn’t like it - they don’t have to stay in my life.’ I was so fucking selfish, and I have so much regret. The only thing I could possibly do is apologise. And I hate apologies - words mean nothing without actions backing them up. There’s no action that I could possibly take that could give these things back to her, so all I could do is grovel at her feet and tell her that I’m sorry and that I’m trying to be a better person.

I’m scared. Even if I do get my shit together and sack up enough to text her, and even if she actually replies, and even if by some miracle she wants to try again - I’m scared that I’ll hurt her again. That I won’t have grown out of my selfish, irresponsible ways. I can SEE the patterns, but can I change them? I think so... but it’s not an overnight thing, and it’s not a neat and direct path from A to B. It’s a messy, unclear, painful and difficult thing that I have to do if I want to be a better person, if I want be capable of having a stable and loving relationship in the future. I can easily see a future where, if all the pieces fall into place and we start dating again, I just use her up and toss her away again - just like every woman I’ve ever dated. Then I’m back exactly where I am today - lying in bed emptying my feelings into the internet - and she’s twice scarred from having me in her life. And then I hurt the next woman, and the next, until I eventually die bitter and lonely, looking back on the trail of pain and heartbreak I’ve left in my wake.

I’m scared of the other options, too. I’m scared that she rejects me and it doesn’t help me get over her. What do I do then? This would be a real hail mary, there’s no third chance - hell, the second is already a stretch. I just cannot go on for the rest of my life feeling like this - it’s been two years! The first three months or so were by far the worst, but after that it’s like... this became my new baseline. A bit of ebb and flow, but never gone. Maybe it’s worse than usual right now because I walked past her last week... and maybe it’s worse than usual because I’m trying to dig these things out from the depths of my brain in the hopes that the light and air will cleanse them. Maybe by going through this phase of rawness and regret, I’ll be better equipped to move on and this will all die down. Although I’m pretty sure I would have to genuinely accept that I can’t have her, and... I don’t know how. Maybe an emphatic and absolute rejection would do that for me. I’d probably have to throw away some of the stuff she gave me. I don’t know. I’m not equipped to approach that idea right now.

And then... what if she says we can try being friends? How do I navigate that? I’m not capable of doing something halfway, I’d spend every waking minute looking for an angle. It’d be an opportunity, not a friendship. That’s... manipulative. I don’t want to do that. And I don’t want to lie to myself and pretend I could do that. I don’t think it would happen, anyway - I don’t see that coming from her. Although I have seen her being friendly with an ex of hers, so... maybe I’m wrong.

And what if she says yes... but then I find out that I was in love with the idea of her that I’ve constructed over the past two years, and the person she is now doesn’t resemble that at all? What if I was just caught up with new relationship energy and a novel person, and really the connection and rapport wasn’t as deep as I remember it being? What if I do everything right this time, and still end up unhappy? I know that dating is always a risk, but... I don’t want to be dumping her six months down the track because she didn’t live up to this ridiculous, unrealistic fantasy version of her. And I don’t want to end up a bitter old man in a loveless marriage, any more than I want to end up a bitter old bachelor with a collection of broken hearts. I think about it and I’m pretty sure that the connection we had was real, and the reasons I want her are real and accurate - but ever since I started wrapping my head around this ADHD thing, I’ve stopped trusting my perceptions of things so much. If I want something, my brain will tell me pretty much whatever I need to hear so that I can rationalise my doubts away.

And that’s part of this whole thing - all this work that I’m trying to do on myself, how much of it is for her? I say it’s for myself, but I wouldn’t put it past me to be rationalising it that way, when it’s really all part of a larger scheme to win her back. Like, I clean my kitchen benches with spray and a cloth every single day now, sometimes two or three times if I’m cooking a lot. I think that’s because I want my house to be cleaned to that standard - but she had extremely high standards of cleanliness, so maybe I’m just trying to make myself the person who can tick that box for her. And I can say, well, if that’s the case that’s ok - the motivations don’t matter as long as you’re improving yourself. But if that’s the case... what happens after I text her? If we get back together, and my brain goes ‘cool goal achieved, we can shut this all down now’ and all the good traits I’ve painstakingly developed collapse back into nothingness. Or if she says no and I actually accept that, then my brain might go ‘ok this is pointless now, let’s get rid of it’ and the exact same thing happens? I want to be a whole, complete person on my own - and a good, responsible, reliable person who does stuff like keep a beautifully clean house - and so the idea that all of that might be built around this hope of having her back in my life is... uncomfortable, at least. As is the idea that I’m constructing a persona who’s only purpose is to win back an ex-girlfriend, as if life is some stupid romcom.

This has gone way off track, so... I’ll leave it there. R, if you’re reading this... I’m so, so very sorry about so many things. I hope you’re not reading it, because I’m not ready - for the apology itself, or the conversation that might follow. But I also hope you are reading it, because that would put the ball in your court and absolve me from the need for action - and I’m still too weak to do the difficult things in life.

When I told you I would come with you, I should have followed through. And I had reasons for not doing that - like I told you in my letter - but looking back I don’t think I was being honest with myself or with you. I was just too weak to do the difficult thing, and so I told myself half-truths until they sounded true enough to tell to you. All the reasons I gave you, the things I wanted and didn’t want - they were real, but they paled next to you. Like candles lit under the midday sun. And I, weak and stupid, watched the sun set on my life for the last time instead of snuffing even one of my candles out. Now they’ve all burned out, and so I’m sitting in the dark with nothing but my regrets to keep me company.

That’s it from me, everybody. Thanks for reading my blog.

[cha-lyn]

interrupted affection

Chapter 6

Bucky Barnes x pocReader  

Warnings: Sexual themes, cussin’, angst

Words: 2,000ish

Summary: Y/N is Wakandan, just returning from a mission as a War Dog. Set a little while after Bucky wakes up from cryo-sleep.

A/N: This chapter’s a bit longer than usual. I am going out of town today to middle of nowhere Washington State, won’t have wifi, so I won't update this story again until around August 17th :) I’m thinking 2-3 more chapters of this story until it ends. I appreciate the love (in the form of comments, likes, reblogs and good vibes). 

+

The next morning, there was a guest at breakfast. Steve Rogers. He sat next to Bucky, across from Okoye. Shuri was as talkative as ever, asking Steve a lot of questions about Tony Stark, which seemed to amuse him. Bucky looked happy to see his friend. He and Steve took turns telling stories from the 40’s and Howling Commandos and roaring in laughter about them, thoroughly entertaining the table. You noticed that he kept glancing over at you and fidgeting with his fingers. Unusual behavior for him, you could tell that something was up, but that this wasn’t the time to ask what it was. Finally, as breakfast was wrapping up, T’Challa asked the question that had been in the back of your mind. 

“Captain Rogers, you know you are always welcome here in Wakanda. What brings you to us this time?” 

Steve thanked T’Challa before answering with a chuckle, “Oh, I’m here to drag Buck back to New York. Although, I hear he has another offer on the table, Your Highness.” You tensed in your seat and stopped pushing your food around with your fork. Shuri looked over at you concerned, but said nothing. 

“Yes, this is true, Captain. We have offered the White Wolf a military title here in Wakanda. We value his military knowledge and tactical skills. He has proven his loyalty to our country time and time again.” Everyone looked over at Bucky who nodded absentmindedly and ran a hand through his hair, not liking the attention. “It appears he has quite the decision to make.”

“Isn’t Bucky a fugitive in America?” Your tone came off more aggressive than it probably should have.  Steve stared at you for a beat longer than normal.T’Challa gave you a questioning look, while Nakia and Shuri exchanged a glance. Bucky cocked his head at you.

Steve shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well, uh technically, yes but we are working to get that lifted. We could get you into the states now without anyone knowing, have you lay low until it’s all done.”

“How long is that gonna take?” Bucky’s voice sounded hopeful. “I mean… I’ve been waitin’ on this for years.” Your fists clenched under the table. You felt Shuri’s hand slide over and gently squeeze your closed fist. 

“We aren’t sure. It is the government ya know.” Steve shrugged, wearily looking back your way. “But Tony has his strings ya know.” 

“I’ve been waitin’ for years...” 

“Well, White Wolf, you have a lot to think about,” T’Challa nodded at him. “Take your time. Either way you choose, you will always be welcome in Wakanda.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

A phone rang. Steve’s. 

He stood, “Sorry. Please excuse me,” he left the dining room. 

“Well, Nakia and I have some work to do in the village. Hope to see everyone at dinner.” T’Challa and Nakia left. 

Shuri looked at you, “I, uh, have some work to do in my lab.” She looked at you and then over at Bucky, who was staring at his hands. She jerked her head at him as she left. You stared at the handsome man, who was apparently very deep in thought. Your heart was pounding in your chest. 

“Bucky--”

“Sorry Buck, that was Tony,” Steve came back into the room. Bucky turned away from you and to face Steve. 

“Nevermind,” you muttered, turning on your heel and high tailing it out of the dining room before Bucky could say anything.

+

You avoided Bucky for the next several days, not that it was hard. You spent the days with Shuri in her lab or with Nakia in the palace and he was off doing Bast knows what with Steve Rogers. Shuri had breached the subject of Bucky with you a couple times, but you avoided it. You didn’t want to talk about him. Shuri, being the good friend she is, got your hints and had you busy listening in on some spy drones to keep you busy. Nakia was more nosey. She heard your hints to avoid, but ignored them. Occasionally, she let you know where he was, not that you asked.

You didn’t want to think about Bucky leaving. You didn’t want to admit that you had imagined a world where you got to be with Bucky, forever, happily in Wakanda. It sounded childish. You didn’t want to imagine a Wakanda without Bucky. You didn’t want to speak the feeling you felt for him out loud, knowing that he could leave. 

When dinners came around, you made a point not to look at Bucky, or Steve. If he spoke, you looked near him or past him, but not at him. Even when he asked you for the beans. You could tell four days of ignoring him was pissing him off. After dinner, Bucky called to you and you ignored him. You practically ran back to Shuri’s lab to avoid talking to him. At about 10:30, you decided it was safe to head back to your place. 

+

You made it to your flat and grabbed a bag of plantain chips and a glass of water and headed to your room to take a bath. You only made it to your bedroom doorway. A dark haired super soldier sat on the floor at the end of your bed, leaning his head back on the mattress.

“What the fuck? Why--how did you get in here?” 

He didn’t move. “You’re mad at me.”

You sighed and sat in the arm chair across from him. “Does not answer my question, Barnes. What are you doing here?�� 

“You only call me Barnes when you’re mad.” He looked up at you now.

“You broke into my home.”

“It’s not the first time I've done it,” he smirked. “And that’s not why you’re mad.”

You stared back at him in silence for a few minutes, jaw clenched, “You want to go with him, don’t you?” 

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “I mean--have the chance to go home. How could I not consider it?”  He scooted over to sit in front of you. “Can we talk about this?” He reached for your hand which you pulled away. 

“We?” You threw your hands up as you scoffed at him, “Go back to New York if that is what you want.” 

“No-I’m saying I don’t know what I want yet, Y/N.” His voice was pleading. “What should I do, doll?” He put his head in your lap. He was breaking you down. 

You shook your head, “I cannot make that decision for you. It is not my place.”

“Help me think it through,” his voice was muffled in your lap. 

“My stance is not neutral, Bucky.” At the sound of his name from your lips, he raised his head, blue eyes searching your face. Your stubbornness was crumbling as your anger dissipated. 

“I know, doll,” He pulled you off the chair into his lap. You narrowed your eyes at him, now at eye level. Those fucking blue eyes. “Y/N. Please. Help me.” Pitiful, you thought.

You give in. “Fine. What do you want to do, Buck? First thing that comes to your mind.” 

“This,” he nodded down at your current position, tangled in each other’s arms on the floor and smirked.  

You gave and exasperated sigh. “Nope, I’m done helping.” You moved to get up.

He tightened his arms, “No, no. I’m sorry doll. I’m sorry. I’ll be serious.” 

You purse your lips at him, waiting. 

“I don’t know. I guess, I wanna make a difference. Make up for all the bad shit I did.”

“That wasn’t you though. You are a hero.” 

He shook his head and turned away from you. “Not everyone thinks that Y/N, especially back in the states.”

“But the people that actually care about you know that.” You pulled at his cheek, turning him back to you. 

“I guess,” he sighed. After a long pause, he started again. “I want to be in control of my life again. I feel that way here.” You nod in understanding. “I miss my home though. I love it here but--”

“America is still your home,” you interrupt. He smiled weakly, nodding. 

“If--IF I go, I’ll come visit you. A lot. I promise.” He has to grab your face, because it’s you turning away now. “Doll, we could make it work, right?”

“No, Bucky,” you spat, suddenly angry. “That wouldn’t work. How many times has your friend Steve visited you since you’ve been here? Twice?” He flinched, your words harsh and stinging. 

“Whoa, ok, he’s busy Y/N. You can't--”

“You think you wouldn’t be just as busy, Bucky? Stark would have you out every week saving the world.” You pushed at his chest hard, he didn’t stop you and you got to your feet this time. “Doesn’t even matter. If you leave we could never be together--” Shit. 

You heard Bucky get up and stand beside you. “Wait-So if I stay and accept, then we--

“Yes.” You answer quickly, before he can even finish the thought that had sat in the back of your mind for months now. 

“Wh--why didn’t you tell me this yesterday? This changes--” 

“No, no--you want control, Bucky. So you have to make your own choice, me aside. I can’t influence your decision. If New York and the Avengers are what you want, if it makes you happy--”

“Oh Y/N, you definitely coulda used that to persuade me.” He smiled down at you, smile reaching his eyes. “You kiddin’ me, doll? You make me happy. America is my home but it was part of my past life. But here, in Wakanda, I’m happy. I fight for people who respect me, people I care about. I fight for you, doll.”

Then he kissed you and you let him. You sighed into it, hands reaching up feel the roughness of his beard. “I’m stayin’, doll. Right.” He kissed your jaw. “Here.” He kissed your neck, stopping to look at you and laugh, “I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” 

You shrugged sheepishly and he shook his head, still chuckling, as he walked backwards to the bed, falling with you on top, in his arms. He rolled on top of you, put his weight on his vibranium arm, cupped your face with his flesh hand and placed a kiss on your lips. His hand trailed down to the hem of your shirt, pausing to look down at you eyes, asking if he could proceed. You nod eagerly as you bit your bottom lip. 

He hummed softly, tugging your shirt up and moving his head down to place kisses on your stomach. You scrambled to unbutton your shirt and pull it off. Bucky chuckled as he moved up your stomach to your chest, kissing and licking. He tugged at your bra, moving it off your breasts to cover them in kisses. You moan his name, hands finding his hair and tugging at it. 

“Ohhh. You’re killin’ me, doll,” he mumbled between kisses. His fingers went to fumble with your pants and your pulled his shirt over his head, nails running down his back when the shirt was gone. You were panting as you pulled his face back to yours, attacking his lips. Your hands traveled down the ripples of his chest and abs towards his pants when those damn beads started ringing.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Bucky threw his head back and groaned. 

You sat up and found your shirt, cursing. You walked to the window and answered your bead. It was Shuri. “What.”

She raised her eyebrows, “Oh. Am I interrupting something?” You narrowed your eyes and she giggled. “Well, there’s a transmission I need decoded urgently and you're the only one that can do it, so get down here. You can bring your friend if you want.” Shuri stuck her tongue out and hung up.

Bucky’s eyes were wide. “She knows!?”

You shrugged. “Her and Nakia do. Apparently neither of us have been as covert in this relationship as we are in the field.” Bucky let out a roar of a laugh as he put his shirt on. “You can stay, shouldn’t take me long to decode.”

“Nah, doll. I think I’m gonna go talk to Steve. Ya know, get it over with,” he shrugged. 

You nodded, “You’re sure this is what you want?” You waved at the Wakanda that lay outside the window. 

“All that is a bonus. I want you.” 

+

[heartshapedcreaturefromcriptoon]

Name: Moon or Rose, sometimes Luna to people who have known me for a long time

Zodiac Sign: Virgo

Height: I honestly can’t remember what they said last time they measured me an it wasn’t even “accurate” because slouching and hunching and scoliosis but my mother did it again when I was in bed and she had a tape measure and I’m 4′8 I think? :D

Languages: English

Nationality: Irish (American...Long Island)

Favorite Fruit: Rasberries, Strawberries, Pomegranate, Tomatos, Cherries

Favorite Sent: Roses, Fresh dirt, Gardens, plants and Flowers, any type of wood, rain, popcorn, Curry, (never actually tried but WANT TO) any type of hot beverage, any type of bake goods out the oven ..

Favorite colors: Black, purples and blues, ESPECIALLY the dark ones, any type greens ......... Also reds and pinks .......

Favorite Animal: Rat’s and rodents, always, ever since I was little ... Bats, Owls, bigger felines and canines (Lions, Tigers, Wolf’s, Etc.) Smaller Cats and Dogs, (Striped cats, fluffy cats, black cats, pit-bulls  and SPINX’S are my favorites cause those are the ones that I have expect for the last one) Frogs and toads too,... opossums,  chinchillas, squirrels, eye-eyes, pigs, rabbits, ravens, crows, in a certain way spiders, bees, moths, butterflies, fox’s, minks, lemurs....  skunks. flamingo’s, swans....lady bugs, crickets fireflies , goats....turtles, Gryphons ....(Far underrated and superior to dragons, this a fact not an opinion.)

And I’m about to admit this VERY, EXTREMELY begrudgingly and through my longest sigh ever but ... Deer? I just freaking. Wrote out an whole entire separate thing concerning my.... complicated perspective on deer and I had to copy and paste it into an entirely different document because I talked for way to long, but it’s gotten to the point where I have this desperate need to just ... vent of what this animal has become for me and what they mean to me, because this has currently became something that has made my heartache the more and more I’ve tried to pretend it does not effect me and I will say that it’s been a long time coming and as of recently I can no longer afford to avoid how much...So um. I’ve decided that this may be the year... That ...I am finally going to talk about this. Of course not like, right /now/ this minute ... But I will say in short that like, I live by a lot of deer and they’ve always been a part of my life for better or worse, and I could never really escape them or the part they’ve played in my life, hurting or healing, even if I wanted to. So, I say that, if I ever got the opportunity to observe one up close in my chair or feed a doe from my hand or hold a baby fawn or do anything like that with supervision in a moment, I totally would, in a heartbeat, without question. Even though from far away it hurts to think about the relationship I’ve had with them through who I was connected to. I refuse disrespect this animal just because someone who I loved who loved them hurt me once. Does that make sense? Sometimes.... Certain things that hurt you can also heal you. I’ve realized recently that I’m still not over how much I’ve been hurting. But that doesn’t mean that deer haven’t also, in their own way, been helping me heal. And I’m just thankful they exist for that because I’ve also learned through many narratives throughout the years, at in watching animation, how deer can have so many different sides to them and they don’t always have to be so interpreted as so “good” and “pure” and righteous and ...., ugh. As everyone projects to be, and I’ve always like to think that’s that’s helped keep a nuanced perspective of what’s happened to me throughout the years even as certain events were taking place and for that... I’ll always love and respect deer as an animal themself.  

As a character, trope though, I’ve always observed that they’ve always been these fucking, self important, entitled a-holes who always assume that they’re charming enough to deserve your time, and think they can just come and go in and out of your life as they please and are far too proud of themselves to admit  when they are wrong and will never apologize to you ever until they are pushed and until then, they just keep popping in and out of your life to vex and annoy you and ......

Mm.

Tastes like perspective.

Anyway, I’m writing something for later.

Maybe.

This is something I’ve been thinking about a lot.

First time sharing any inkling of my emotions about deer. 

I’m honestly so afraid about what this and the other post will entail for later, my other deer tail, if you will.

I’ll stop talking about deer before this gets weird.

You have no ideer......

Last pun until next post, promise.

Coffee, Tea or Hot Chocolate: My silly abled assistant worker got me addicted to coffee again before she had me institutionalized and soaking in my own piss for four days because she didn’t understand how hospitals worked, and then they cut her hours when she was about to abandon me in what was basically a nursing home for and after a month I started trying to explain to her and my caseworker that I wasn’t feeling very well and they basically laughed at me and told me I was dirty and so yeah I spent my 25th birthday in a nursing home with an infection that I didn’t know I had and then one of the staff yelled at me for allowing this nice hyper boy who lived there to help push my crappy black manual wheelchair (you know the one) and practically tossed me out of my wheelchair to get me to what she wanted and then accused me of soiling myself when she was removing my clothes for the shower when I was on the toilet and then started screaming at me again and accusing me of lying when I asked her why she thought I had an accident and then she slammed the door and abandoned me in the bathroom when I wouldn’t give her the answer that she wanted and then I had a breakdown ... So I decided to use my mom’s birthday as an excuse to come home and check what was going with me and get some real food and I told my assistant and my caseworker and they basically laughed at me and said was a bad idea and told me I was dirty again and then I was punished and taken home for being “rude” and “too emotional” but not before the assistant worker brought me some crappy bitter ass coffee flavored fudge when the rocky road was right next to it because she was some vegan ass “straight ally” one year younger then me with a 29 year old boyfriend millennial who “missed my birthday” and complained about how miserable I was and how wasn’t enjoying the pumpkin farm which she originally wasn’t even gonna take me through, because my caseworker insisted that she cancel plans and bring me back to the nursing home as punishment for calling my mother. So when she DID bring me back after arguing with me for being ungrateful enough to not enjoy a place that she didn’t even wanna take me, she left me parked on the living room carpet, instead of bringing back into the dining room where my laptop was set up, like she’d normally do, said “good luck with your mom”, and left. Then, it took me about an hour to wheel myself off of the carpet, find someone to help me to the bathroom, and get me the phone to call my mom back and tell her it was okay to pick me up.

I come home, discover I have a lump in my left breast which is benign but still hasn’t gone away, go to the doctor, and it turns out I had two infections. 

My mom seemed prepared to let me go back to the group home if I wanted to but after I told the doctor what happened with the staff worker the day after my birthday and the night before I called. The doctor told me that I wasn’t safe at the group home ether and ordered that I go back home with my mom and stay there.

So I’m back home now.

Two months. 

And of course my caseworker shit on me for THAT.

And of course she informed me that my assistant worker quit on me.

And I still haven’t spoken to my father since I’ve been back here.

And I still have the scar he gave me. 

And I’m still trying to ween myself off of coffee.

But before all of this my go to warm drinks were usual tea or hot chocolate. Sometimes hot chocolate with liquor.

My tongue went numb for a time because that was the first thing that I did non- stop each day for like four days after the day I finally finished my meds and my period hit immediately (which is already a whole other nightmare that I was dreading having to go through in a nursing home when everything already felt fucking inflamed and swollen and infected with already visible particles of dried up soap.... because.... it was ......) 

But like, yeah...... Tea and Hot Chocolate!  

Dream Trip: To have the opportunity to visit and interact with/get to know some queer cripple friends in person, and to visit my good friend @colorcinabrio in Mexico to travel round the world with them if ever given the chance! ❤

When Blog was created:

Somewhere around two years ago... I wanted to make blog that reflected my disability and really let me identify as a cripple and focused more focused more on cripple things and maybe make some cripple friends! ^ ^’  ❤

Last Movie Seen: That comes to mind that I actually enjoyed? The Favorite.

Favorite Holiday: I really love people’s birthday’s also and I always try and do something for my friends birthdays if I can! ^ ^  ❤

Songs on repeat: As of recently, ‘Fake Happy’, by Paramore.

 Tagged by @qjusttheletter

Tagging: @colorcinabrio @thetrainticket @finallyhaunted @thequantumqueer @rosered3 @isnezzed @purplepeoplelickingtruthpeddler @transplorer

Thank you so much for tagging me, Q! ^ ^’ ❤ I know it took a while to answer but as I said before I really did go on a deer tangent for a minute! ^ ^’ ❤ But being tagged by you brightened my day and  I know we don’t talk much directly but I really do think of you as a friend!!!! :D ❤ O.X

[softboyuris]

We Will Always Have Us pt. 1

The Realization || Weeks 0-6

Words: 4.8k+

Summary: Roger and you have been friends for a little over a year and have spent most of the time harmlessly flirting. On the night of your 17th birthday, Roger finally makes a move. One reckless night of passion leads to some unwanted consequences that’ll test the strength of their friendship. 

Warnings: teen pregnancy, implication of unprotected sex (wear protection folks!), slight language 

{masterlist} {series masterpost}

[part 1] [...] [part 6]

⁂  4 October 1966  ⁂

The car was cramped and humid but all you could focus on was the shirtless boy above you, leaving a trail of kisses up your body before settling on your mouth.

You hadn’t planned on this happening tonight, on your 17th birthday, or anytime soon for that matter. Hell, Roger wasn’t even your boyfriend, at least no officially. You two hung out quite a lot and were obscenely flirty with one another but you had never been out on a date before. Never kissed. 

In fact you were pretty sure he had a girlfriend. But he was always changing up who he was “hanging out” with, as he put it. Every party there was always some new girl hanging onto every word he said and he was likely to end up with her at the end of the night. It would not be shocking if he hadn’t been with six girls since you last heard an update. 

When Roger said he had left his present for you in his car, you wouldn’t’ve thought in a million years this was the present. But you had willingly followed him away from the party that your friends had so kindly thrown for you, to accompany him to his car. 

You were just talking, really, about school and life in general. In all honesty you kind of spaced out, nodding every once in a while. But all you could focus on was how close he was to you. How his shirt was showing just a little too much of his shoulder, like someone had been tugging on it trying to get the fabric out of the way. And when he talked, all you saw were his lips. His lips where his tongue would dart out every once in a while before the corners of his mouth tugged up into a smile or a smirk. Where his tongue would pull his lip in to settle between his teeth and it took nearly every ounce of your being not to moan at the sight.

You had never viewed him in such a light before. Literally. With the moon shining in through the window of his backseat, creating a slash of light across his face. He looked angelic. His long, or at least as long as the school permitted, slightly waved blonde hair perfectly framing his face. And how his whole face would smile when his lips turned up, and he let out a small laugh. In turn making you laugh. 

You were mesmerized. You barely noticed when his hand landed on your thigh, staying in place at first and then slowly inching up, under your skirt. And then he was whispering tempting things in your ear, dirty things in your ear that sent shivers down your spine. His breath hitting your neck made you dizzy and you had to close your eyes. Your mind wondering what it would feel like to have his mouth somewhere else, somewhere lower.

And that’s when he kissed you. And you melted into it, kissing him back with more urgency. You never knew you were so needy until his hands were pushing on your hips, rearranging your position so he was hovering above you. 

Your breath hitched at how absolutely perfect he looked in that moment, how divine. You weren’t sure what you did to be put in god’s good graces but lord did you thank heavens this was happening.

The kisses turned more needy and desperate before he started sucking on your neck and you could have sworn you would have fainted if he wasn’t grounding you there. Running your nails down his clothed back, you wished nothing more than for him to not have any clothes on at all.

So you pulled away. He was a little dazed and confused at first, thinking you were rejecting him until you propped yourself up and removed your shirt. The smile on his face grew, he couldn’t help but admire how perfect you looked, how perfect your boobs looked. Soon you were both naked. And there you were, lying beneath the hottest, most wanted boy in school, letting him take your virginity. And all you could do was smile.

In the following weeks, you hooked up occasionally. He would come over to your house to ‘study’ and then screw you so hard you were worn out for the rest of the day. You didn’t tell any of your friends. You knew they would just judge you for falling for his charm. And although it was true, you didn’t think you were like every other girl he hooked up with. You weren’t someone he was gonna fuck and forget. Cause even when he inevitably moved on, you would still remain friends. This wasn’t gonna get in the way of that.

When some random girl at school started throwing herself at him two weeks later, he very politely informed you he would be sleeping with her now. It was more the delivery of this information than the information itself that stung the most, which you made sure to make him aware of. You weren’t necessarily hurt, you knew this was bound to happen at some point, but your stomach still swooped when you saw him in the hallway with another girl.

Regardless, Roger was your friend, through and through, and him ditching you to be with another girl wasn’t going to change that. But something else definitely could.

⁂  15 November 1966  ⁂ 

You were late. Really late. It was 8:05 and school started at seven. It wasn’t your fault you had woken up late. You had a really bad stomach ache last night that left you curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor in fear that you would hurl all over your very nice bed.

Your mom had done what she thought was right and let you continue to sleep. You loved her but you could not miss anymore school. You had gotten in enough trouble already for skipping with Roger over the past few months. 

The hallways were eerily quiet. A part of you enjoyed it and the other half absolutely hated it. School, in your experience, was always loud. Anyone who’s friends with Roger can certainly vouch for that. You hated that you could hear every step you took reverberate off the walls and how the students in class right now could probably hear your frantic footsteps as you hurriedly walked down the hallway.

Even though you were a whole hour late for class, you were hoping your first block teacher wouldn’t get too pissed at you. But he had a tendency to hate tardy students so you were walking as fast as you could but every step made you more and more dizzy until you had to lean against a locker to stabilize yourself.

You’d been having these fainting fits for roughly a week and you were starting to get tired of them. That and the constant hunger, yet not wanting to eat anything nearby, you constantly felt. It was super annoying. How could you be hungry and not want to eat anything at the same time?

Last night you were sure it would all come to fruition in the form of a stomach bug when it literally felt like your intestines were wringing themselves out inside you, but sadly no. You had to deal with period-like cramps for four hours before you managed to knock yourself out with some antihistamines. 

You were pretty certain at this point it was nothing serious, playing it off as some weird hormonal imbalance before your period came. Some premenstrual cramping if you will. 

When you could see straight again, you pushed yourself off the locker and pulled open the door to Mr. Irish’s class, your first class of the day that would be over shortly. He looks none too happy when he hands you a slip of paper, which excuses you to the attendance office to sign in late, before ushering you to your seat. 

You turn to the class, expecting to find your seat at the front of the classroom empty, except it’s not. Someone took your spot and if you could see who it was through the spinning room, you would probably give them a glare. Instead, you find the one empty seat behind Roger who gives you a cheeky smile, which you of course return. His smile starts to fade as you get closer to him, melting into a look of worry.

“Are you feeling okay? You look a bit pale?” He asks in a whispered tone, his hand reaching out to grab your forearm as you come to a halt in front of him.

You furrow your eyebrows, swallow and give a curt nod before you feel the cold tiled floor beneath your back and the world goes black.

⁂  a few moments later  ⁂ 

The lights are too bright for your eyes before you even get them open and the ringing in your ears makes you want to pass out again, at least then it would stop. Through closed eyes, you can see the outline of someone kneeled down beside you and you already know it’s Roger before you hear his concerned voice calling your name.

“I’m fine,” you grumble, giving your temples a squeeze. “No need to freak out, Rog.” You run your hands over your face before squinting your eyes open, letting them adjust to the harsh fluorescents of the classroom lighting. 

Roger is squatted down in front of you, a hand lying comfortingly on your upper arm. He gives you a reassuring smile before helping you sit up. “You sure about that?” He chuckles but there is definite worry laced in his words.

You open your mouth to answer but the movement of sitting up has your head, and stomach, spinning and before you can get to your feet, or better yet a trash can you’re spewing your breakfast on Roger’s lap.

⁂                                                         ⁂                                                             ⁂ 

“I really am sorry.” You say, probably for the hundredth time. Your teacher gave Roger and you permission to leave class. He strongly urged you to go to the nurse, as did Rog, but you insisted you were fine, you just wanted to help Roger out. “Really is a shitty way to start your day, huh?”

Roger is essentially nude, spare his boxers, and standing in front of the sinks in the girls bathroom, which you claimed as yours by locking the door. He’s desperately trying to get his clothes clean but you know it’s no use. “Not the most ideal way but it got me out of Mr. Irish’s boring lecture.” 

“Just call me your saving grace,” You joke, fiddling with your hands.

“My sick little angel, that’s what you are.” He chuckles. You hate when he uses pet names with you. You love pet names, but when it comes from his mouth it makes your stomach swoon and you know he means it in an endearing way but all it does is remind you of the nights you had together when ‘baby’ and ‘love’ were words that slipped from hips lips as he filled you up. And he wasn’t even saying it in a pet name type way, but still. Your heart might’ve thumped a little harder in your chest.

“There’s no point you know, I think I ruined your perfectly planned outfit.” You tease. He had been wearing jeans, which to anyone else would have just been ordinary jeans but you had told him they made his ass look nice and now he wore them as often as was acceptable, and a simple band tee that you had actually given him on his birthday over the summer.

From where you’re standing, you can see Roger’s lips turn up in a smile. “You’re right. But I can’t bloody well go nude for the rest of the day.”

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing,” You smirk, eyeing him through the mirror.

Again, that smile, stretched even wider if possible. He turns off the running water, giving up and throwing his sopping mess of clothes into the trash can. “Wherever will I find clothes now.” He fake complains.

You but your lip, thinking through his options and landing on one that has a smirk adorning your features. Without a word, you spin on the ball of your foot and open the door, looking back only to make sure he was following you.

“No.” Roger states blatantly at the pair of sweats in your hands. You’re in the nurse’s office now, where there are always spare clothes kids leave behind at school. “No way am I wearing that.” He crosses his arms over his chest, eyeing you.

“It’s sweats or nude. Pick your poison.” You extend your arm more in his direction.

“I’d rather go nude, thank you.”

“Not if you don’t want to be sitting in detention this Saturday Mr. Taylor.” The principal, Mrs. Devon says as she passes by the door,

You momentarily look behind you, seeing the blur of your principal pass by and you can’t help but let out a chuckle. Roger quickly swipes the clothes from your hands and, with a bashful look and rosy cheeks, excuses himself to the bathroom to change.

“You owe me big time.” He comments as he steps out of the bathroom. The sweats don’t exactly fit him. The hoodie is way too big for his slim physique and the pants are just the slightest bit too small, leaving little to the imagination. “Stop staring at my junk.”

“I’m not gonna be the only one you say that to today.” You remark, looking back up into his eyes, your own glistening in pleasure. You sure are enjoying this.

Roger pinches your arm, something he does when he’s embarrassed and doesn’t want to be teased anymore. “Hey! Not my fault it doesn’t leave much to the imagination.” 

“Half the girls at our school don’t need an imagination to know what you got, I assure you.” You continue to poke fun at him, much to his dismay. 

“You’re words don’t hurt me, in fact you’ve boosted my ego.” He puffs out his chest in order to further prove his point.

You sigh in faux dismay. “Oh whatever will I do? You can barely fit through the door with that ego of yours.” He shakes his head at you, pinching your arm again. You flinch back in response, prompting him to continue his shenanigans until he’s got you wrapped in his arms, your back pressed against him. You’re a laughing mess. 

“I really am sorry though,” you say between gasps of air, trying to return your breathing to normal. Not something easily achieved with his arms wrapped so tightly around you. “I’ll buy you new jeans. The same ones.”

“They were my favorite.” He gives you one last squeeze before letting you go just to take your hand and walk you back to class. It’s a normal gesture. You guys may have only been friends for the past year but he somehow knew you like no else did. Understood you like no one else could. 

⁂                                                         ⁂                                                             ⁂

By the time lunch rolls around, it seems the whole school has heard about your fainting spell this morning and you could not hate the attention more. Some people come up to you concerned and ask repeatedly if you’re okay, if you’re feeling better. Your answer is always ‘I’m fine’. A majority, however, thinks it was all an act to get out of class and spend time with Roger. Which you find completely laughable because who would make themselves throw up, let alone on someone, just to spend time with said person. The rest just ignored you and you praised them for that.

On the other hand, your friends could have cared less. Although it sounds like a rude thing, it really isn’t. Your friends do care about you and your wellbeing but they know you’ve been getting a bit faint recently, convinced it’s because of the upcoming midterms that you always stress out about way too much. You’ll do fine, they all assure you. You know you’re smart. You know you get good marks but you’re still prone to stress about exams. 

They pass it off as just another day and you’re beyond grateful. They do, however, tease you about Roger, a normal pass time for them. You’re the only one in your friend group that is good friends with him. Hell, you may be the only girl in school who is truly friends with him, not just a fun time. They always make fun of the two of you for flirting nonstop, half the time you don’t even realize you’re doing it. Like one time when he bought a cupcake from a bake sale but he didn’t want the icing so you licked it off without a second thought and he continued to eat like nothing had happened. That was a fun gossip day at school. All the girls went batshit over it and a part of you actually enjoyed having them get jealous over you.

Your friends still didn’t know that Roger had slept with you over a month ago, and on numerous occasions thereafter. It was something you kept between the two of you. Although you were quite certain a part of them knew. Their jokes started getting a little too real and you would get bashful and they would just tease you more. But maybe it was just because you got flustered over it and not because of the reason you were getting flustered, their jokes were so close to the truth sometimes it brought memories of Roger’s hands on you, places the public shouldn’t see and you would have to look away to conceal the bliss on your face. 

“Come on, (y/n), could you not find anything else for him to wear?” You’re sitting outside under a tree with your four closest friends, save Roger who’s playing football with some of his mates in the field in front of you. Charlotte looks over at you, waiting on an answer. It’s the first time she’s looked away from Roger’s, well you know, since you got situated in the shade. 

“Nope. There was simply nothing else that would do, unless you wanted him to flounce around in a skirt all day.” You joke, leaning back on your elbows as you watch Roger kick the ball to Ryan who kicks it past their makeshift goal.

“That would have been a sight to behold.”Comments Zach from behind you. He’s laying on his back, a book held over his eyes. You know he’s reading but a part of his attention is set on his friends conversation. He always does this. He is always reading but also observing and listening in on others conversations, giving one-liners every once in a while. It’s what drew you to him when he moved here three years ago.

You laugh silently, a smile spreading across your face. The mere image of Roger in a skirt… well you’d rather not think about that with your friends around. That was definitely an image you’d be saving for later though, in the comfort of your bedroom. “It would indeed,” you decided to respond. 

A gust of chilled air blows over you and your friends. Winter is approaching and you could not be more excited. The holidays were your favorite time of year. You always spoiled your friends with too many presents, most of which they didn’t need. They loved you for it, your bank account didn’t but you could care less, you always put aside your paychecks in December for your gift-fund.

Charlotte shivers and your other friend Sam takes her jacket off and places it over Char’s shoulders. You can see Charlotte’s eyes glisten as a smile pulls at her lips. She pulls the jacket tighter around her, muttering a small ‘thanks’ under her breath so only Sam could hear, who is also smiling. God, were they flirty. 

⁂                                                         ⁂                                                             ⁂

Sitting in your last class of the day, you could not be less bothered with the lecture your teacher was attempting to give. Half the class was dozing off and the other half was just not paying attention, throwing balls of paper and pencils across the room in an attempt to hit their friend, or the teacher.

You were sitting at the back of the room, next to Roger who was tapping his pencil against his desk rhythmically. You had been telling him he should stop trying to learn guitar and pick up a damn drumstick already but he always shushed you. His pass was guitar, or so he claimed. You had your hand resting on your cheek, fighting the exhaustion that was threatening to take over your body. Your bed sounded so sweet right now.

As if on cue, the bell finally rang, a sound akin to that of nails on a chalkboard to you, but a sound that also meant freedom. You were up and out of your seat within no time, slinging your bag over your shoulder and speed walking to the door. You liked being the first one out of the door so you could start your journey home, walking of course. You only lived a few short minutes from school but if you waited more than a millisecond, the masses came flooding out with you and that meant socializing which you were particularly not in the mood for.

Regardless, once you make it to the sidewalk well in front of any students who may be tempted to strike up a conversation with you, Roger falls into stride beside you. “Don’t you drive?” You ask the blonde, keeping your eyes on the bright sky in front of you, partly obscured by buildings that line the streets.

“Cars’ in the shop.” He answers simply, like you should know his cars’ in the shop. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, only one returning so he can put a cigarette in his mouth, lighting it with the same hand. 

You let out a sigh, “How many times do I have to tell you smoking is bad for you?” You look over to him, watching as he takes a drag. A few seconds pass before he breathes out the smoke and answers you.

“However many times it takes to convince you of the same.” You shake your head, squinting your eyes at him. You know he’s right. On the rare, and I mean rare occasion he walked home with you, he always smoked. And you always ended up joining him. You didn’t understand the hype around it, it didn’t make you feel cool or different but you still did it. Maybe it was because it was something only Roger and you shared. He never shared his cigarette with anyone else, only you. That made you feel special.

“Oi, shut up.” You playfully push him to the side. He laughs, stumbling over his feat a bit before regaining his balance. He offers you the cigarette and you take it. But as you’re bringing it up to your lips, something in the back of your mind tells you no to. And you listen to it.

Roger gives you a concerned look, almost hurt look, as you hand it back without taking a drag. “Something wrong? We always share a smoke when we walk together.”

You put your hands in the pockets of your jacket, giving a closed mouthed smile. “Not today. Just something’s telling me not to.” You add when he gives you a questioning look.

He puts his hands up in defense and the subject is dropped. The silence that flows between you is uncomfortable and awkward. At least to you. As far as you know, it’s having no effect on Roger as he continues to smoke and look around at the architecture surrounding the two of you. He looks angelic, a word you never thought you’d be using to describe infamous playboy Roger Taylor, but he does. The sun is starting to set on the horizon, sending out rays of sunlight that dance across his face. The wind slightly blows his hair around and he has his cigarette lying limply on the edge of his mouth, hands in his pockets. 

He catches you looking at him and smiles. You break eye contact, looking away with warm cheeks. And all of a sudden you feel nauseous again. It hits you like a ton of bricks and you have to take a moment in your step to try and stop your head from swimming. Roger stops a few feet in front of you when he notices you aren’t beside him anymore and once agains he’s right by your side, uttering questions along the line of ‘are you okay’.

You shake your head, clearing away the black spots you see and straighten yourself up right. You mumble an ‘mmhmm’ before looking up at him, “I just forgot I needed to pick up something at the pharmacy. For my mom.” You added when his eyebrows furrowed in question. 

“I can come with you.” He suggests, a hand on your upper arm. He looks so damn concerned and it hurts your heart to see the worry in his eyes. Since when has he cared so much about you?

You shake your head, “No. I’ll be fine. It’s just a little ways back and you’re so close to being home. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” You turn around and start walking back towards the pharmacy before he can protest. It takes a lot not to turn around and makes sure he’s walking the other direction but you manage.

When you get home not ten minutes later, you make a beeline for the bathroom upstairs. Your mom welcomes you home and you send back a short, sweet response as you climb the stairs. You set down the brown paper bag on the counter and stare at it. It’s beyond wrinkled from you clenching and unclenching your hands on the walk back home, a motion that you continue to do as you pace back and forth in your bathroom.

When the nausea had swept over you, you came to a sudden realization of something you did not want to come to the realization of. It only caused your stomach to swim even more and with Roger so close to you, you could barely breathe so you made up an excuse about the pharmacy just to get a fresh breath of air. And then you realized you actually needed to go to the pharmacy. 

You dreaded it.

Come on (y/n), just take the stupid test. You’re probably worrying for nothing and the test will tell you exactly that. You didn’t realize it but you were mumbling under your breath to no one but yourself. Stopping in front of the sink, you take the test out of the bag, practically ripping it out of its packaging.

When the time comes to wait three minutes, you’re panicking again. Your hands are getting clammy so you rub them on your jeans. Pressing your back against the cool plaster of the bathroom wall, you force yourself to breathe. Eyes closed, your mind drifts to thought of Roger and pretty soon your breathing is no longer under control. Roger. Shit.

Your little kitchen timer goes off, sending a loud buzzing sound knocking around the confined space. You jump. Now you’re down right scared. You don’t want to know the results. You should’ve let him come to the pharmacy with you and confided in what was now your biggest fear. Or told Charlotte she needed to come over. She would. She’s been your best friend since you were old enough to know what a best friend was. She would understand and she would know exactly what to say. 

But no. You were alone. You were alone and afraid and you couldn’t help but think that you would be in the same position nine months from now, except there would be doctors rushing all around you and you would be in pain and hating everything and, oh my god, you were giving yourself a panic attack.

You closed your eyes again, got your breathing back down to a normal rate- at least as normal as it could be in this moment- and with shaking hands picked up the stick.

It’s only in your hands for a second before it clinks to the ground. You’re breathing erratically and tears are falling without care or notice down your cheeks. You’re a shaking and sobbing mess curled up in a ball on the floor when your mom walks in, concerned by all the noise. She sees it before you can hide it from her.

You’re pregnant. You’re pregnant and there’s only one person who could be the father. And boy were you not looking forward to that conversation at all.  

[lorettadelluci-blog]

TASK IV: THE EXTRAS.

summary: when loretta calls, you always pick up. there’s never any other choice. word count: 1.9k trigger warning: ptsd mention, illness mention

i. what’s worse, do you think: falling out of love with someone quick enough that it’s like it never happened, or falling out of love so slowly you wish you’d never met?

ada wilhelm can answer that question with ease. she stares at her call log, mouth pressed into a tight line. it’d been hard enough to hear it over the low roar of the private jet, but she’d gotten the voicemail.

ada, loretta had said, like she does every time she’s going to break ada’s heart, her voice emotionless, listen to me.

listen to her? for what? but ada --- stupidly, recklessly, knowing she’d have four board meetings waiting for her once the wheels hit the ground --- sat there and listened as loretta made it clear.

i don’t --- i’m not sure when i’m coming back. and i know it’s not fair to you, but i think it’s best if we... called this done.

she cycles through the emotions rapidly: anger, sadness, joy, grief, pure and unfiltered rage and envy. it’s not fair. but loretta’s never been fair. she’d thought for so long that maybe they could make it work. that if ada worked hard enough, kept up with the phone calls and text messages and spoke when loretta needed to listen that maybe things would be different this go around. she’s not sure what it is, exactly, keeping them together, but it hurts more than an open wound.

they’d met when they were barely kids, just out of college, and ada... she’s not stupid. she’d been in love with loretta since the day they’d met. and she’d never been selfish. not exactly. WILHELM was rightfully hers. her position at the top of the ladder is still hers. everything she’s clawed out of flesh, every minute she’s spent pouring over code and emails and texts and videos --- it’s all still hers. loretta wouldn’t take that from her. her wealth, her home, her newfound family --- they’d all be safe.

but this sacrifice doesn’t feel fair. not to ada. her phone shakes in her hands so she sets it down and smooths her skirt out, attempting to regain some semblance of poise. restraint. she thinks of the wedding ring, still in its velvet box, sitting on her mantelpiece. her fingers twitch. it’d been a nice dream, at least, for a little while. a happy one.

she orders a drink and lets it be. loretta’s been a ghost in ada’s head for too long. maybe it’s time to stop mourning.

ii. the phone rings at three in the morning, when the party is still raging. they’re celebrating a good closing to the fiscal year: more wealth, more power, more room to grow. she’s not sure when someone gave her another mimosa, but what the fuck is franchesca gonna do? not drink it? she pulls her phone out and stumbles upstairs, laughing in the same pitch as hannah in accounting past a slew of guests.

they’re happy. why shouldn’t she be happy? this is --- this is her fucking company. she did this.

she stares at her screen, squints. the letters eventually blur together to form a name: ‘etta.

the joy drains out of her chest like water in a sink. oh shit. oh, shit. oh, shit. oh shit. she fumbles with her hands to slide the button on the screen, pulls the phone to her ear. “loretta! hey!” does she sound drunk? fuck, she better not sound drunk. she sets down the mimosa near the bed, where hopefully the cat won’t decide to swipe it over.

“franchesca,” loretta says. there’s a long pause. franchesca can picture her now: reading glasses on, the weariness of hours without sleep on her face, looking the picture of medusa. beautiful, tempting, deadly if you stare at her too long. her heart skips a beat.

“what time is it in italy? shouldn’t, uh --- shouldn’t you be asleep?” is she slurring her words? she swallows.

“it’s nine in the morning, and i’m currently enjoying a cup of tea. it’s three am in new york, though, franchesca. should you be awake? i know you have an interview with entrepreneur at ten.” oh, she sounds pissed. she sounds so fucking pissed. franchesca’s known loretta long enough to know when she’s pissed.

franchesca’s not going to question how she knows about the interview, either. best not to beat around the bush if this is how it’s going to play out. “’m not... you just woke me up. what is this about? is everything okay?”

“listen to me, franchesca.”

two things about loretta delluci franchesca has learned in her best efforts to imitate her: she likes to use names, because it grabs attention. it’s not uncommon to hear your name three times in five sentences around her. when she says listen to me, you fucking listen. she straightens her spine and gets ready for the lecture.

it’ll be short and sweet. “i’m listening.”

“franchesca, if you fuck up this interview tomorrow like you did with bloomberg, i’m going to take a red eye back to rhode island and ruin things so badly for you that you’ll be in debt for the rest of your goddamn life. you have a job to do, and i’m paying you to do it for a reason. get it together. no more slip ups. i won’t ask twice. am i clear?”

there’s a clatter, sharp and sudden, from right beneath her. orange mimosa is spilling across her floor, beneath her prada pumps, and there sits garfield, staring up at her with relative innocence. franchesca swallows. “i hear you.”

the line goes dead. party’s over.

iii. each day in verona has henri asking himself why, exactly, he decided that verona was the city to get away from the mob in.

you leave chicago to get away from the mancini-sullivan bullshit and you end up in capulet-montague bullshit instead. great job, morrol. real smart, dean might have said. but dean’s dead and buried somewhere in the desert outside vegas.

dean, as it happens, also looks so much like faron vasiliev that henri’s having some feelings right now he’s not particularly comfortable addressing. he pops his nicorette --- sourced in from the states en masse, because jesus christ, quitting is hard and nothing else really works --- and lifts the binoculars back up.

even from almost a mile away, it’s still easy to see that faron vasiliev looks at calina sokolova like she’s the sun. legs kicked out in front of him, tilted back in his chair, henri watches them cross the street and disappear into some antiquated tea house often frequented by capulets and montagues both. it’s a miracle the little place hasn’t been set on fire yet by either group.

he’s not sure why he does this shit for loretta. not really. sure he’d owed her a favor, but this is different from a favor. this is putting his life on the line for someone who otherwise doesn’t give too much of a shit about him.

the sound of dean’s body hitting the dirt rings out in his head, just before the shot of the gun, and the guilt. the immense, incapacitating guilt that had henri running from chicago in the first place. he knows, idly, that dean had deserved to die for what he’d done to the sullivan family. he’d fucked them over. he’d known that then, and he knows now.

when cristopher mancini tells you to kill a man, you just do it. you don’t ask why.

but dean had wanted nothing more than to just... get away from everything. disappear just like henri had asked him to, over, and over, and over again.

let’s get married. let’s just fuckin’ do it, dean. we can go, he’d said. we’ve got the money.

just a little while longer, dean would insist, every single fucking time. what bullshit. absolute bullshit. he wishes, maybe just a little, that he’d died with him. it’d be easier this way.

his phone vibrates in his pocket, and he answers without checking to see who it is. who gives a fuck anymore? 

“henri, how are you?” loretta asks. she sounds... chirpy. criminy.

“peachy keen,” he lies. “what do you know about a faron vasiliev?”

iv. three things happen to freya when she returns to los angeles after her second year abroad in italy: she gets the internship she asked for. her mother’s medical bills are magically paid. both her brothers listen to her when she talks, now, and that’s almost enough to make her want to be honest with them.

she goes back to st. louis in august to finish her degree, finally, and then after that it’s off to work with whatever tech-based company will take her. twenty-two years of hard work and determination and a little bit of lying, and her dreams are coming true.

loretta calls every friday at seven o’clock, and freya’s not dumb. she knows to pick up the phone. the nail polish on her hands is still drying when she fumbles with her new iPhone, using her foot to clumsily crank down the volume on the radio she’d been using in her bedroom. “loretta! hi! hey!”

“hey, kiddo, how are you doing?” loretta’s voice is warm, and it fills freya with unexpected affection. the things she’d done in verona had been awful, and she’s still not sure that those ghosts won’t follow her home, but they’d been worth it.

worth it for the free tuition and worth it because her mother’s chances of survival over the next twenty years are so much better than they’d been three months ago. “good. how’s verona?”

“boring without you here. i miss our morning reviews and you ranting to me about ancient architecture and history.”

she snorts. “not the cool, fun, spying stuff? just the history?”

loretta quiets for a second or two, and she’s wondering if she maybe put her foot in her mouth. “i almost wish i’d never dragged you into any of that. but you’re safer in america than over here, at least. i’ve got your back.”

it’s a relief to hear something she wasn’t really listening for anyways, but freya feels a sudden tightening in her chest. “i don’t regret any of it. it was --- what the capulets and montagues are doing? they’re ruining verona. i’m not even from there and i saw it. the bridge...”

loretta sighs. “yeah, i know. but hopefully this whole thing will be done. i’m working on it, and you and i can both go to bed resting easy.” she sounds tired. really, really tired.

“will you call me next week?” she asks, voice soft, like she always does. maybe it’s stupid, but she worries, and loretta delluci isn’t a woman you just forget. she can almost picture her face: the way the lines around her eyes soften, the curve of her smile, the warmth of her arms when they’d hugged one last time in loretta’s apartment before freya’d had to go to the airport.

“of course i will. you keep me updated, okay?”

“sure thing. i’ll let you know if --- if anything happens.”

loretta never says goodbye, over the phone. she always just ends the call. with the promise she’d apparently needed, loretta leaves freya with bad punk rock on the radio and a smear of blue polish on her index finger.

she still scrubs at her suddenly wet eyes anyways.

[letmeletmetrashyourlove]

Baby Sister

Summary: The reader is a year younger than her brother, Steve Harrington. She has been sneaking out to see Billy and Steve finds out. A little bit of Billy fluff as well....

Author’s Note: These boys I SWEAR. I’ve seen a request to do a part two, so let me know if that’s something you’d like. xxxx

I stood in front of my mirror, putting my face on for the night. See, Billy Hargrove had somehow gotten me to fall in love with him. I don’t know how. The guy could be a real prick. Which was precisely why I was plotting to sneak out tonight. A knock on my door made me jump,

“Hold on a sec!” I yelled, placing my tube of lipstick down on my vanity. I prayed that my brother wouldn’t open the door. He would ask questions if he saw me all dressed up. We had helped each other sneak out before. He wanted to make sure that he knew where I was, just in case. But this time, there was no way in hell I could tell him where I was going.

         “Just me. Going to bed!” Steve hollered, “Don’t be blasting that shit you listen to all night.”

        “Night, jackass!” I retorted, letting out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

I wrestled on my jeans, the ones that made my ass look phenomenal. I tugged on my leather jacket over it just as there was a slam of a car door outside. I slipped my boots on before peering out my window. The dull glow of a lit cigarette under my window told me he was here. I turned out the lights, snagging my purse before flinging my window open. I wriggled out onto the roof, using extra caution not to tumble off onto my ass. Like I did the last time… Which I will never hear the end of.

I scooted on my butt, closing the window behind me. I slid off the gutters and into the arms of the boy below. He caught me around the waist, urgently pressing his lips to mine.

        "You stuck your landing." He applauded.

I hummed against his lips, tugging back slightly, he followed me though.

        “Okay! Stop! Steve’s still awake!” I hissed between kisses, glancing up at his bedroom window to see the light on.

        “When are we gonna stop sneaking around, huh!?” He half hollered.

I whacked my hand over his mouth,

        “Stop causing trouble!” I scolded, giving his ass a slap as he strutted over to the car.

I climbed into the passenger seat, glowering over at him. He had a crimson stain on his lips,

        “You’ve got lipstick on your face,” I notified, licking my thumb and swiping it across his face.

He playfully nipped at my hand, missing as I pulled away,

        “Alright, tiger. Let’s go.” I rolled my eyes.

He threw the car into gear, zooming off down the road.  

        “So, where are we going tonight?” I questioned as he settled his hand on mine.

        “It’s a surprise.” He replied, waggling his eyebrows at me.

        “Well, shit.”

The last surprise he had ended up getting us both stranded in the middle of the woods during a heavy rainstorm. The damn car couldn’t get any traction. We both ended up soaked and covered in mud when we decided to push it out.  

        “You still holding that over my head?” He questioned.

        “Barely managed to lie my way out of that one,” I grumbled.

I told Steve that some jackass sped past me as I walked in the rain, spraying me with mud. He was pissed about it, demanding that I tell him what the car looked like.

        “You know if we just told him-”

        “We’re not telling him. Not yet.”  

        “Oh, so we’re going to wait until we’re married with babies to tell your brother about us?” He chortled.

        “Married? Kids? You really thinking that far ahead?”  

        “Just a… what is that called…. Hyperbolt or something.”

        “Hyperbole?”

        “Yeah, that one.”

I rolled my eyes as he pulled into the unlit parking lot of an abandoned gas station.

        “How romantic.” I wisecracked.

As soon as he parked the car, he reached over to me, dragging me from my seat and onto his lap. My butt hit the steering wheel, honking the horn. We both laughed breathlessly as he grasped my cheeks, smashing his lips against mine. He shoved my jacket off my shoulders,

        “Somebody's excited.” I panted as he pulled away.

He grunted in return, his hands fumbling with the buttons on my blouse.  

        “Not tonight,” I told him, capturing his hands.

He let out a disappointed whine, but adhered to my wishes, buttoning my blouse back up as he pouted.

        “You know, you can’t just mention marriage and children to a girl and not talk about it.”

        “I was just joking.” He drawled.

        “Oh, no no no. It’s always the girl who brings it up first,” I dismissed his explanation, “Boys are terrified of that kind of thing. Wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole.”  

He groaned, thudding his head against my chest. He knocked the air out of me as he did so. I brought my hands up to play with his mane, twirling strands of it around my fingers.

He grumbled something incoherently against my shirt.  

        “Hmm?” I challenged.

He repeated it, making no more sense than the last time.

        “Billy.”  

        “Okay. Okay… Yeah… I’m thinking that far ahead, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” He admitted.

        “You never struck me as a family man.”

Sure the prospect of marriage scared me, let alone the thought of children. But hey, all of our parents got married right out of high school. Although, that didn’t work out for a bulk of them… But the fact that that could even cross his mind…

        “Yeah well. Wanna raise kids better than my dad did.”  

        “Well. We’ll see whether or not my brother kills you before we’re ready for that.” I grinned, pressing a comforting kiss to his forehead.

        “You’re not going to freak out?”

        “No, I’m not going to freak out. Shows me you’re in for the long haul.” I reassured.

        “So does that mean we can tell Steve?”

        “No!” I blurted.

Sure, Steve would have to find out eventually. But Billy didn’t have pure intentions behind wanting to inform him. Billy preferred to stir up trouble. When we first started dating, I genuinely suspected it was because he wanted to get to my older brother. But when he went along with not telling him, I realized he was in it for me. The battle they got into a few weeks ago resulted in the two of us getting into a blowout fight. Both of us screaming and throwing things until he broke down into tears, folding into my arms. That was the first night we spent together. Both of us falling asleep in the back of my car, a tangle of limbs and hair.

I remained his lap for the rest of the night, the two of us chatting about everything under the sun. How he was doing in school. How much Max pissed him off the other day. Which I would scold him over. He talked about his dad, which we didn’t do often. He would come over, tears in his eyes and covered in bruises, but we wouldn’t talk about it. I’d just clean him up and we’d pretend it didn’t happen.

Both of us had conversations we didn’t want to have. And for now, we understood and kept both of our mouths shut.

        “Oh, fuck,” I muttered as we pulled up to the house.

Steve was sat on the front stoop, propping his head on his palms. His nail-riddled bat sat behind him.  Billy showed me a devilish grin. Since the last time they tried to kick the shit out of each other, Billy had just been dying to get under Steve’s skin again.

        “Behave.” I snarled at Billy, pointing a finger at him.  

He got out of the car ahead of me, opening my door for me. Steve got to his feet, hands on his hips.

        “So, that is you, Hargrove.” He confronted, “What the hell are you doing with my sister?”

        “Oh, so now you know how it feels, don’t you? Having some asshole hanging out with your sister?” Billy taunted, mirroring Steve’s posture and passing his tongue along his bottom lip.

        “Oh, and your lipstick is smeared… Great.” Steve called out, using his thumb to fix it. I swatted at his hand, “Go inside.”

        “No way in hell I’m leaving you two out here by yourselves.” I rejected, crossing my arms.  

        “How long has this been going on?” Steve questioned, gesturing between the two of us.

        “Oh, pal. Are you really so oblivious?” Billy gibed, wrapping his arm around me and planting his hand directly on my ass. I shot him a glare, he only smirked in response.

Steve’s eyes about popped out of his head as his jaw clenched.

        “I wasn’t talking to you,” Steve growled, his gaze unable to withdraw from Billy’s hand on my ass.

        “Four months… You really aren’t a quick study, Stevie.” I responded, shuffling my feet awkwardly in an attempt to prompt Billy to remove his hand.

In reply, he gave me a squeeze, making me jump.

        “Okay, pal.” Steve warned, stalking up to us, “Hands off.”

        “What’re you talking about?” Billy questioned, clutching me harder.

        “I swear to GOD if you don’t take your disgusting hands off my sister I’m gonna-”

        “How well did that work out for you last time, Stevie.” Billy interrupted, letting out a snicker.  

I stepped between the two as Steve clenched his fists, they started to square up, chest to chest. I raised my hands up, placing on hand on each of their chests and giving a soft shove backward.

        “Hey. Nuh-uh. Stop your dick measuring contest, right now.”  I advised.

        “Someone has to look out for you, Y/N. I’m just doing my job.” Steve growled, seeking to advance on the larger boy. I blocked his path.

        “Jesus Christ, Steve. I am my own woman, okay? This is my choice, and I don’t need you to defend me.” I asserted.

        “You’re my baby sister, you expect me not to do anything when I catch you with the biggest asshole in town.”

Billy scoffed at this claim, licking his lips,

        “If he hurts you I s-”

        “If he hurts me, then I’ll handle it. Okay? That’s my bed to lie in if it happens.”  

        “I mean, you’re the one treating her like a possession, not me.” Billy countered.

“Don’t start,” I warned, pointing my finger at him. He held his hands up in submission, finally taking it off my ass.

        “She’s my baby sister, of course I’m going to-”

        “Ah!” I halted, pointing a finger at him.

        “Oh now you’ve pissed her off.” Billy chuckled.

        “Ah! No.” I scolded.

They both made a noise of protest,

        “Mmm!” I exclaimed, glaring between the two. 

They both let out a grunt and crossed their arms over their chests,

        “Okay. So I’m going to kiss my boyfriend goodnight, and you’re going to go inside.” I directed.

        “Boyfriend,” Steve grumbled.

        “Go!” I ordered.  

He trudged back inside, creating a spectacle of picking up his bat. He gave it a swing before resting it against his shoulder. I rolled my eyes as I turned back toward Billy who beamed proudly.  

        “So does this mean we don’t have to sneak around?” He asked,  once again wrapping his arms around me and grabbing my ass as I coiled my arms around his neck.

        “Won’t be able to. He’s not gonna let me out of his sight.” I retorted.

        “I love you, even if your brother is batshit crazy.” He declared, pressing a kiss to my lips. He nearly shoved his tongue down my throat as he leaned me backward. He lifted his hand off my ass, presenting a middle finger to Steve who you could be damn sure was looking out the window at us.

        “Keep doing that and I’m going to let him go after you with the bat.” I threatened breathlessly as he pulled away.  

        “What’s with the bat, anyway?” Billy questioned.

        “That’s a story for another day, sweetheart.” I exhaled, giving him a pat on the chest.  

        “Night.” He smirked, pressing a sweeter kiss to my lips before letting me walk away, “Love you!”  

        “Yeah yeah yeah, love you too, asshole,” I replied, shooing him out of my driveway.    

        “Billy Hargrove!?” Steve interrogated as I entered the house.

I scoffed at him, blowing past him and trotting up the stairs.

        “Jesus Christ, I’d rather you date Tommy H. than Billy Hargrove!”

        “Ew!” I cried.

[issysindieblog]

INTERVIEW - SPINN

SPINN are quickly winning over a fan-base across the UK from locals in their hometowns in Liverpool where they grew up to now adoring teen girls and this comes as no surprise to anybody. They have the cheek yet optimism of a new band despite completing their final lineup only last year and will no doubt continue to roar through the UK music scene and gain an army of avid supporters in years to come. This month, the boys are embarking on a tour of the UK, playing a series of gigs up and down the country from Glasgow to Bristol. They finish the tour off on the 28th September back in their home-city of Liverpool (O2 Academy 2 Liverpool). They've impressively already managed to sell out three of their six dates and have recently announced that they have been signed to American label, anti fragile music. The thing that the band are chuffed about though? The fact that one of their songs, It's Not Getting Better, was played on Made in Chelsea earlier on this week.

SPINN have released eight songs so far, including a self-titled EP which was released in April of this year. Singles of their's include catchy 'It's Not Getting Better' which is a song that stays in your head for days after first hearing it's memorable lyrics ( "you know it's killing me being here, killing me, being here.”) and groovy guitar lines which resemble that of early work from Blossoms.

Pictured below, SPINN.

So, (currently) 180,000 monthly Spotify listeners, a UK tour this month with half of the dates sold out and a growing army of supporters, I had questions for Johnny from SPINN and these were his answers... Maybe I'm slightly biased, but I think that these are the best answers to an interview that I've ever read.

1. Was there a particular moment that you realised that SPINN were becoming popular?

I was once getting a meal deal in Tesco and I saw somebody walk in the shop wearing a SPINN teeshirt. I was absolutely buzzing that somebody was wearing some of our merch and later on they messaged our Instagram page and said they'd seen me but had been too scared to come up and say hello. The same thing happened to me when I saw Ex-Everton Winger Steven Pienaar in a different Tesco. That made me realise we were doing something right, I still think we've got a while to go before we can say we're properly popular though. Just got to keep working innit x

2. Away from making music and gigging, what are your favourite things to do together?

Honestly just knocking about with each other like we always have, is what we like to do. Usually it can be anything from just walking around the shops together to going on nights out and staying up till 8AM. Last week Louis had to stay at my flat and we spent the time going to Tesco and prank calling Sean.

This has been a very Tesco centric interview I'll try and steer away from that for the rest of it. Right that's besides the point, as long as we're still knocking about together and taking the piss out of each other, we'll enjoy it x

3. You're going on tour soon, do you each have an essential item you will take with you?

I try to bring a book of some sort for the drive currently, it's Nine Stories by J.D Salinger

Andy ALWAYS brings a hairdryer and various hair products, rocking a bowl when you're on the road ain't no easy fete!

Sean usually just brings himself, that leather jacket he's always got on. A spare bass guitar wouldn't go a miss either, though. Once he left his on the side of the motorway when we were on the way back from Derby, good times.

Louis brings his Aston Villa blanket and 20 Litres of Vape liquid, the little fiend.

4. What/who are your major influences?

Collectively: The Drums, The Smiths, The La's, The Cure, Orange Juice, Ride, My Bloody Valentine.

Individually: Too many to list xoxo

5. Let’s fast forward five years from now, what do you see SPINN doing?

Ideally I'd like to get to the level of Wolf Alice or The 1975 are at now, that would be the dream. If we keep on working then I can see no reason why we can't get there, if we don't then that's fair enough, but we have to at least try! Anyway that's the dream, as long as we can make a living off the band and keep writing music that develops and matures with us then I'll be happy.

6. Do you have any pre-gig rituals?

I always have to go on stage last, I don't know why. At particularly big gigs we listen to 'I Am A God' by Kanye West before we go on, because it's such a good tune for getting hyped to. Other than that, apart from the odd bout of stage fright it's usually just a beer with the boiz before going on.  

7. How has your music evolved since you first began playing music together?

I think our songwriting has definitely improved. When we listen to our new stuff compared to our older songs, it's just in a different league, that only comes with experience though. I think that us touring has definitely helped us realise what is what in terms of song structures and live performances. So to answer the question properly, yeah we've got a lot better (even though we thought we were boss before when we weren't lol).

8. Can you describe each member of the band in under ten words?

Andy - A man who loves his haircut more than life itself.

Sean - Donned in a tight leather jacket he's often quite hungover.

Louis - A small man, usually asleep in his Aston Villa blanket.

Me (Johnny) - Taller than the other four, basically the god of dancing xoxo

9. How long have you been playing together? 

Louis joined about a year ago, but we've been a band for about 2 and a bit years. Saying that, I don't think we would be SPINN without Louis so therefore I'm gonna say a year.

10. What has been your favourite and least favourite venue to play so far?

My favourite was The Magnet in Liverpool. There's so many boss memories there but now it's been turned into one of those chain comedy clubs which is something that chips away at my soul every time I walk past.

My least favourite was The Sitwell Tavern in Derby. Everybody who came to see us was lovely and so were the other bands and the promoters Dominic (just wanted to make sure if they read this they know I had a boss time at the gig and in the chippy afterwards ;) ).

But, and it's a big but, the pub had fuck off massive "The S*n" flags up all over the gaff which frankly isn't something we like to see anywhere, as we think that that rag is scum, sorry not sorry.

SPINN set out on their debut headline tour this month at the following locations:

21st September - Surf Cafe, Tynemouth

22nd September - Broadcast, Glasgow

25th September - Record Junkee, Sheffield

26th September - Hy Brasil Music Club, Bristol 

27th September - Thousand Island (formerly Upstairs at The Grage), London

28th September - O2 Academy 2 Liverpool

Tickets are available to buy now at https://www.musicglue.com/spinn-band/ and all of SPINN's music is available to stream on Apple Music and Spotify.

[softboywriting]

Mated Pt5 //Werewolf Shawn

Summary: You and Shawn are mates. He’s an alpha werewolf. You’re a human. Also…you have a boyfriend already. What happens when a werewolf is rejected by his mate?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Four days pass and you haven’t heard back from Liam yet. You texted him “Sorry fell asleep last night” after Shawn left the morning after your birthday. You texted him again the next morning, asking to meet up with him soon. He didn’t reply.

Shawn would stop by, always knocking on your sliding glass door to see if you were home. He didn’t stay the night again. He would just stop by and check on you, one day he brought you a candy bar. Usually his visits lasted no more than a few minutes, with him standing outside the door while you went over the same questions.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine, very tired.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m good. Thank you though.”

Shawn would usually nod and mumble that he would see you later on. He didn’t ask about Liam. He didn’t ask to stay the night again. It was just the same couple of questions and then he’d go back home.

You pick up your phone as it starts ringing and look at the name that pops up on the screen. It’s Liam. It seems he’s finally seen your texts. He hadn’t even come over to see if you were okay, didn’t text you back or anything. What the hell was his problem? It pissed you off. It really did. You thought about spamming his phone until you got a reply but it just wasn’t worth your time to do so. For days you’d been going over in your head every time he’s done this. How he would just go missing for a few days and then suddenly text or call you like you hadn’t been trying to get ahold of him. You always dismissed it because you were just happy to talk to him again, to get to go out, to not be lonely. You had always been a little afraid to ask him why he didn’t call or text earlier because you didn’t want to start a fight.

It wasn’t until Shawn gave you his undivided attention that you realized you really wanted that. You wanted attention. Someone to be with, to be close to and to have that person want the same thing back. You realized that the way Liam left you in the dark wasn’t right, wasn’t how a relationship should work.

“Hello?” you answer, putting the phone on speaker and laying it down next to you.

“Hey baby, was just calling to see if you still wanted to get your birthday dinner?”

“My birthday was four days ago. Liam, where have you been?” you ask, trying to keep your voice calm. It’s the first time you’ve questioned why he didn’t reply and you were already angry from reviewing the past times like this in your head. “Why didn’t you text me back?”

“I was busy. I’m always really tired after work, you know that baby.”

It’s making you sick how he calls you baby. It used to feel cute and endearing. Now it felt wrong. “For four days? Really?”

Liam scoffs, his voice taking an annoyed tone. “What’s your problem? I said I was busy. What is with all these questions?”

“Can we meet up? I want to talk about-” you start to say you want to talk about your future with him but you hear a female’s voice in the background and you stop. He keeps saying “Hello” over and an over but you ignore him, listening to the voice. “Who’s with you?”

Liam is quiet for a moment. “I’m at work.”

You look at your clock over your desk. It’s after 7pm. He got off work at 5pm. “No you’re not.”

“Excuse me? Yes I am. I had to work late!” Liam sounds defensive and the female voice in the background suddenly stops. You hear an “oh! shit sorry!” just as Liam takes a deep breath and says, “Baby, we need to talk about your attitude.”

Your attitude? Did he actually say that? You were not about to let him hang up until you got some answers. “Liam, your boss would never let you work this late. Who are you with?”

“I’m at a friend’s okay? Don’t worry about it. Did you want to get dinner still?”

“No, I don’t want to get dinner with you. I-I don’t even want to see you!” you shout, not caring you’re becoming irate. You’re not even trying to hide it anymore. “Liam, are you at a girls house!?”

“What is your problem?! Do you think I’m cheating on you?!” Liam is yelling. He’s clearly angry you’ve just caught him in the act and he was vehemently trying to deny it.

“Yes! Yes, I do! You just lied about where you are, you won’t answer your phone for days! Is this what you do every time you ignore me for days?! Do you go to your ‘friend’s’ house?!”

“Y’know what, fuck you! I gave you everything and this is how you’re going to repay me? Fuck you, we’re over. Go fuck yourself, because it’s not like anyone else but me was ever going to. I hated coming to that piece of shit town you live in anyways, wasn’t worth my time. ” Liam hangs up the phone and you’re laying there processing what just happened.

Tears start falling, running down your cheeks and wetting the pillow in your lap. You were so angry and so done with him but it still hurt. He just implied he was only dating you for the sex and that you weren’t worth anyone’s time. Like he had been doing you a favor by being with you. You’d spent the last nine months dating him. What a fucking waste. The whole time he was fucking another chick? So what, you were his side chick? His main chick? How long had he been cheating on you? How could you have been stupid enough not to realize any of this earlier?

You sob, shaking and struggling to breathe. You wipe your tears away with your sweater as a soft knock comes from your sliding door. You take a deep breath and go over to it and push the blinds aside and see Shawn standing there in a soaking wet hoodie and jeans. It’s pouring rain and water is pooling in the yard behind him. “Not now, Shawn, please go home,” you sniff loudly, yelling through the glass door, reluctant to open it. You didn’t want Shawn to see you like this.

“Please let me in. I heard your phone call,” Shawn tugs the door open and you wish you had put the stopper bar in the bottom. “I got here just as Liam was saying he had to work late. I should have left but I just couldn’t. Are you okay?”

You shake your head. “I hate him,” you whimper before breaking into another round of chest aching sobs. “He was cheating on me. He only wanted to fuck me,” you’re shaking harder, stomach sick, arms wrapped around yourself, “like he was doing me a favor because I’m not good enough for anyone.”

Shawn pulls you against him. His hoodie is soaked but you don’t care. He holds you against him, hand gripping your shirt. “Fuck him,” Shawn says, lips pressed into your hair. “He’s wrong, you’re perfect.”

“How can you say that? We’re barely even friends,” your voice is muffled by his chest.

Shawn moves back just enough so that he can look down at you. You glance down and notice he’s making a wet spot on your carpet. He brings his hand up to your cheek and wipes your tears off your cheek. “Believe me, you’re perfect.”

“You’re just saying that because you think I’m your mate.”

“I’m saying it because I know you’re my mate. I wish you could feel the same way I feel drawn to you.”

You leans your forehead against his chest. “Maybe I could learn to,” you let out a breathy half laugh, “Maybe I was supposed to break up with Liam. Is that crazy? Maybe this was all supposed to happen?”

Shawn shakes his head. “Not crazy at all.”

You step back away from him and look him over. You wipe your eyes again and laugh softly at him. “You’re making a mess,” you point at the damp circle he’s standing in.

He looks down and steps back toward the sliding door. “Oh shit, sorry. I can dry it off if you give me a towel.” He squats down to touch it and see if it’s totally soaked through.

“Maybe we should dry you off first,” you say as you grab a towel from your laundry hamper. “eliminate the source of wetness?” Shawn stands up and peels his hoodie off in one fluid motion, hanging it on your computer chair to dry. You drop the towel and stare at him because holyfuckingshit. Who the fuck actually looked like that? How was this guy that ripped? He was not real.

Shawn looks down at himself and then up again, giving you a sort of shy smile. He knew you were blatantly checking him out. You bend down and grab for the towel three times before getting it and holding it out to him without saying anything. He takes it and starts rubbing his chest dry as he says, “Gonna watch me take my pants off too? I don’t mind, but you might want to sit down judging by your reaction to my chest.”

[growlithe-and-company]

Wooo can’t believe i’m 20? Like that’s a thing now? 2 decades I’ve been on this Earth. How time flies... So in celebration of turning 20 I think I’m going to post 20 things that I like about myself and my life.

1. I actually really like my lips and smile. Only thing I’m super vain about.

2. I love my eyes as well. They’re a pretty hazel, greyish green and brown. 

3. I have got such a cute cat! Maggie is her name. She’s easily my most favourite thing about my life. She’s made me so happy.

4. I have two really awesome friends. One being @miss-stary-eyes, we met here on Tumblr years ago.. lost count of how many years, at least 4 years ago. We did a rp together, I remember it! I played Loki and she played an OC called Eona, and Loki was teaching her magic (and he of course fell in love with her). Ahh we’ve been through so much, my dear, and I’m so glad you’re in my life. The second, or really first friend (since I met her 8 years ago) is my dear best friend Laurena, who isn’t on Tumblr but she has always been there for me and her and I share so many amazing memories. Don’t know where I’d be without my two favourite girls!

5. I have a tongue piercing that I’m low key obsessed with? It’s such a great little fidget thing to distract me in stressful times. I just roll the top ball on the roof of my mouth or slip the bottom of the bar across my lips (not smacking against my teeth, that’d be dreadful)

6. My town in Animal Crossing is pretty damn gorgeous if I do say so myself. I’ve spent months working on it and it’s come out really nice. No way near finished, but it’s looking damn good.

7. I live almost entirely by myself. Between work and his fiance, my dad is rarely at home. So while he still pays for everything, I get to reap the rewards! I love being alone, and having an entire house to myself. FUCK WEARING PANTS.

8. I know how to knit, which is definitely a fun skill to have. I’ve knit myself two full sized blankets, and several dozen scarves. I’d love to learn to knit a jumper one day, that is my goal.

9. Ever since moving out of my mums place I’ve developed a really great relationship with my sister. I’m so thankful for that because her and I get along really great when we’re not in each others spaces.

10. I really applied myself these past two years and got 3 courses done. Certificate III in Tourism, another cert III in Travel, and then a diploma of travel and tourism! I’m so proud of myself for accomplishing these.

11. My room is currently my nerd station. I have several posters hanging up (my fave being my Iron Man poster, but I also love my Captain America poster that’s in the front room) and I have several other little nerdy knick knacks laying around. I love it, my little nerd paradise.

12. My hair grows pretty quickly! I had my hair cut super short at the start of the year, it was shaved on the sides and slightly shaggy on the top. Currently I have it pulled back in a loose ponytail, all of it tied back, and about 6 inches of hair in the pony!

13. I struggled with this.. but I finally got through my learning drivers licence and am now on my provisional. It took me 7 tries to pass my practical test, and luckily only one try to pass my hazard perception test. BUT IT’S DONE! I’m on the home stretch now. 2 years time and I’ll have my full licence booiiiiii

14. Ok, this is gonna get deep and borderline triggering. So I put it in the tags for trigger warning but this is your second warning. When I was 14, I tried to kill myself. Twice actually. First time I just cried and then got mad (at myself, at the doctors for helping me, at my mum). But the second time really shook me. The nurses were cool to me, the doctors didn’t seem to care, I knew I was wasting their time, resources, and energy because I did this on purpose, whereas there’s probably someone else who needs them more than me. I felt like a piece of shit after the second attempt and it really shook me to the core. It’s been 6 years since then.. Wow 6 years, that’s insane. I’m so proud of myself, I’ve made serious progress. I get a little depressed now and again, and I’m a little lonely. But I’m ok, I have things in my life that I’m so happy about, and things that have happened since my attempt that have made everything so worth it. It gets better, it truly does. 

15. I have got such a nice little book collection going on. I don’t read anymore, I wish I still did. I keep buying books to hopefully spark my old reading bug back to life. So I’ll probably have a huge bookshelf filled with books that I don’t read haha. Actually, that’s a lie. I do still read. Every year I re-read The Hobbit. It’s my favourite book and I love it with all my heart. I have a signed copy by Bombur and Bofur! James (Bofur) forgot to sign the book (I asked them to write a quote on top of the signature) and when I realised with Steven (Bombur) that James forgot to sign it I kinda just sighed and said oh well. But Steven said “oh nah, we’ll sort it.” -leans over and smacks James on the arm with the book- “Oi, ya egg, you forgot to sign it!” James laughed and apologised, and quickly signed it. That is a memory I will never forget, seeing Peter call James an egg and smacking him, it was the highlight of my comic con trip.

16. Speaking of comic con! I met another famous dwarf at a previous comic con. Dean O’Gorgeous, er I mean O’Gormon. I got a photo done with him and boiiiii I told him an awful joke to break the ice. Lemme share it with you. “Why does Gandalf walk funny?”  “I don’t know, why?” “Because he has crystal balls...” Yeahhhhhh I said that to him with a straight face and he did that forced laugh you do when a kid tells you a totally not funny joke but you gotta laugh because you don’t wanna hurt their feelings. Anyway that was awkward as fuck, so we took the photo and my god he was so warm like hoo boy like a furnace but yeah awkward as fuck don’t know why I told you guys because yikes I couldn’t get out of there fast enough hahaha.

17. My cousin, Hannah, sent me a little letter a few weeks ago completely out fo the blue. She said she missed me, and asked when I was coming back to NZ to visit, and if I could come to her birthday. Then she told me about her day and how her first year at school went. She’s 6! I can’t believe how old she’s gotten. I cried when I read the letter, it was so sweet. I wish I had the funds to go visit her and her brother, they’re definitely my favourite cousins out of the four (sorry Noah and Addi :P)

18. Oh boy, 18. Now for those who don’t know, in Australia the drinking age is 18. I went to my friends 18th party, which was a week before my 18th, and I basically celebrated my birthday as well. I got mighty drunk, and had a great time. I made some questionable decisions, but it’s ok, sometimes in life you gotta step outside your comfort zone/see what your drinking limit is before you’re giving a guy you just met a lap dance! But that night was actually lots of fun. It was a couple weeks before I moved out of mums place and traveled across the country to live with my dad. I was all kinds of stressed out, and feeling very sad to be leaving my mama. So that night was a huge relief to me. I got to just sit around with a bunch of great people while we idly drank and talked about stuff. And then I promptly peed myself which caused everyone to laugh their asses off and almost piss themselves. So yeah pretty fun and memorable night!

19. My dads fiance, Fiona, is honestly such an awesome person! They met earlier in the year, and are engaged now (they’re really in love and it’s so cute). She’s got a fat cat called Oscar and I LOVE HIM.

20. Ahh 20... 2 whole decades of life. I’ll admit, I don’t really think I have a whole lot to show for my 20 years. Lots of little things really. But I know I’ll make an impact on my life, probably next year. With dad getting married and moving in with her (she owns her house, dad rents his) I’ll definitely have to find my own place to stay. But it’s ok, it’ll all work itself out. I’ll make something of myself in the coming years. I’m not worried (ahaha I’ll keep saying that till I believe it) I’ve made it this far, and for that, I’m proud of myself.

[drinkupthesunrise]

Ok, so I know you're all about the WedgeLuke, but would you consider writing WedgeBodhi? For a prompt I would say, something like - Wedge gets put in charge of helping the newest defector transition into the Rebellion. He didn't expect to actually *like* the guy... Maybe?

I am a consummate multishipper, even if I do focus my writing mostly in one place :D So happy to oblige. This is definitely Wedge/Bodhi, but it is also some other things as well, because I got slightly carried away. (3.5k, also on ao3)

Thereare, in retrospect, a half dozen reasons why Wedge is the perfect manto help Bodhi Rook settle into the Alliance to Restore the Republic.

(He’san Imperial Defector himself; he spent six months out on injuryrelearning to walk; he knows exactly what it’s like to walk from abattle that left almost everyone else dead; to name a few.)

Thatdoesn’tmean that Wedge likesany of them.

He’salready spotted one eager, idiotic, headstrong pilot who needslooking after – Skywalker is youngand in desperate need of guidance – but Wedge is told that, no,Skywalker already has people in his corner. (To be the Last Princessof Alderaan, ready to martyr oneself for the Alliance, counts for farmore than a fool of a pilot who peeled off the Death Star run momentsbefore completion, apparently.) Instead, Wedge is asked to beresponsible for the hero of Scarif, thepilot, the only reason that any of them are still standing here atall.

Theorders come from Chancellor Mon Mothma herself, conveyed by HeraSyndulla, just before the evacuation of Yavin Base. It’sthe last words Hera says to Wedge. The Ghost does not appear at therendezvous point. Wedge is cast adrift, bitter and alone again –they’ve sent Luke off with that damned Corellian idiot and thePrincess, and Verlaine is now heading the Alderaanian contingent, andHobbie… Hobbie is in medical somewhere,where Wedge isn’tquite sure, but his status remains steady at aliveso Wedge doesn’tquestion it too much.

Sohe does about the only thing left to himself, and gets his ass downto the medbay. The med droids almost don’tlet him in, but Wedge’s orders came with a broad spectrumauthorisation that gets him past once he remembers to use it.

“Getthe fuck out,” are the words which Wedge is greeted with. He canonly see a back, and an arm – still bandaged heavily, which meansthe limited Bacta supplies didn’t help and it’ll scar. One legswings under the bed. The other one, Wedge knows from his briefglance at the medical report, was lost to the explosion that rockedRogueOne.

“I’dlove to,” Wedge shoots back. “But Chancellor’s orders. You’restuck with me until you can get an audience with her and convince heryou don’tneed babysitting, and good kriffing luck with that.”

Bodhi’shead turns, just enough to get a glance at Wedge. Half his head isshaved – medical intervention, Wedge guesses, or at least partof it is unintentional, because…well, it’s not a great look, and Rook doesn’t look used to it.His eyes are wide, almost too big for his face, and they’rehaunted, from stress and lack of sleep and who knows what besides. Inthat second, Bodhi looks almost ready to fight, to physically pushWedge out the medbay if he has to. But something stops him. “You’re…”Rook’s voice is low, worn thin, though Wedge thinks it might havebeen nice once. “You’re a pilot.”

Wedgenods. The bright orange of his comefind mesuit made that fairly clear. “Iwas on the Death Star run,” he says, hoping it will prove to Bodhithat he understands just a modicum of the hell that Bodhi’s beenthrough. That he has the potential to.

Bodhiconsiders this for a long moment. “Chancellor’sorders?”

“’Fraidso.” Wedge lets his mouth quirk into a smile.

“Well,come in. Two-one-bee will have a fitif you keep standing at the door, and I’mnever going to get released if I keep pissing them off.”

.

“Whatdo you actually doall day?”

Wedgekicks off, sliding his board out from under the low-level A-Wing he’stampering with, to see Bodhi looking down at him, curiosity all overhis face. Six weeks in, and Wedge would have thought that Bodhi wouldhave worked that out by now: Rook is smart enough.

Onthe other hand, it’sonly in the last week that he’s been fitted with a prosthetic, andonly in the last day or two has he actually been able to wander aboutthe ship, so it wouldn’t be the biggest surprise if he’d missedthe bleeding obvious.

“Work,”Wedge replies.

“Onwhat?” Bodhi asks. He kneels down, trying to work out what on earthWedge is doing. “You aren’t rated as a Starfighter mechanic, Ichecked.”

Hechecked?Wedge wheels himself a little further backwards, then props himselfup, so he can get a proper look at Bodhi instead of the half-upsidedown view he’dpreviously had. One of the medics has got at his hair, cutting itproperly – he’s got an undercut, Wedge notes, that wasintentional, and then the left side is shaved clean – that would bewhere the shrapnel got him in the head – and his remaining hair hasbeen pulled into tight braids across his scalp, gathered into aponytail. His scruff is steadily turning into a full-scale beard. Hismouth is set in a pursed line, his fingers – his hands are sittingacross his knees – are long and elegant.

(Wedgeis loathe to admit it, but Bodhi’sdamnpretty. But it’snot like any of Wedge’s attractions to the various pilots who havecrossed his path have actually come to anything, so he doesn’tdwell on it.)

“Doesn’tmean I can’t tinker a bit,” Wedge shrugs.

“Doesn’tanswer my question,” Bodhi retorts. He’s got a reputation on shipfor being hesitant, shy, nervous; not surprising, given everythinghe’s been through. Around Wedge, he burns with a fire and a witthat is sharp – even though Wedge can see the cracks in his psyche,damage done by unknown horrors before he even reached the Rebellion.

Wedgesighs. “Youreally wanna know?” Bodhi’s not going to like the answer, but henods anyway. “Look after you.”

Bodhi’seyes go even wider than they already are, naturally – somethingthat Wedge wasn’t sure was possible. “What—” Bodhi sputters,rocking back and forth on his heels. “That’s not a job! I don’t—”He glances around, eyes darting franticly, and there’s one of thebreaks that Wedge knows is there, the sort of thing that does meanthat Bodhi needs a full-time caretaker, at the moment at least.“You’re one of the heroes of Yavin, does this damn Alliance nothave a better use for you than me? You should be out there amongstthe stars flying,Wedge, not here on the ground with me, don’tthey realise that, you could be doing so much more.”

Thereare reasons Wedge isn’tout there flying, and the fact that Bodhi isn’t the only onecurrently failing his Psych Evals is one of them. Wedge isn’t readyto tell Bodhi that yet though. He will, eventually – it’ll help,someday, but at the moment there isn’t room for Bodhi to beconcerned about Wedge. Instead, Wedge pushes himself all the way up,and places his hands solidly on Bodhi’s knees, leaning weight onthe way he learnt from the medics, how to ground Bodhi when he’sstarting to panic. “It’s the way it goes. When they need me tofly, I’ll fly. For now, I’ll tinker and advise and pull shifts onthe bridge and do what Chancellor Mon Mothma told me to do, which isto make sure you’re alright.” Bodhi looks surprised at theferocity of Wedge’s instincts – almost like he’s surprised thathe is worth fighting for. “I’m quite content here with you. I’vebeen in enough battles I shouldn’t have survived at this point.”

Bodhitakes a ragged breath, trying to hold it and turn it into somethingdeep. “Okay,”he says. “Okay.” He covers one of Wedge’s hands with his own,and steadies himself in Wedge’s firm gaze.

Wedgetakes a sudden sharp breath. Shit,he thinks. Bodhi’shand is warm on his own, holding firm, and Wedge is almost dizzyunder Rook’s eyes, boring into his own. He does not need to fallfor the man he’s supposed to be looking after. That is a badidea.

Thankfully,Bodhi doesn’tnotice.

.

WhenBodhi is fully released from the medbay, Wedge is cognisant of hisgrowing crush on Bodhi enough that he knows he should probablyobject to the quartermaster’sinsistence on putting Bodhi in Wedge’s bunkroom. It’s a room forfour, currently only being occupied by Wedge and a recent Imperialdefector who’s awaiting a squadron assignment, once High Commandhave cleared him. There isn’t much of an argument for Wedge toactually make, and there are advantages to having Bodhi close to keepan eye on him.

Thefirst week passes without incident, and Wedge thinks that they’remaking progress on Bodhi’s many issues, and maybe a few of his own.One of them might actually see the inside of a Starfighter within theyear.

Then:

Wedgesits bolt upright in bed, breathing hard. Light continues to flash infront of his eyes as he blinks fast; his ship exploding over Yavin,Biggs’voice ringing in his ears. He digs his finger nails into his thigh,reminding himself that he is aliveand awakeand that he survived,and those are the consequences he has to live with.

Heflicks his gaze across and downwards, desperately hoping that hisnightmare didn’twake Bodhi up. But there’s no one in his bunk. The sheets aredisturbed; someone did sleep there. “Bodhi?” he asks, keeping hisvoice quiet.

“Iwas about to wake you.” The voice that comes back to his in returnis not Bodhi’s. Wedge peers over the edge of his bunk and isgreeted by Tycho Celchu looking up at him. “I heard the door go, Ithink he’s gone.”

“Shit!”Wedge shakes the last of sleep off himself, and vaults down theladder. He pulls on his boots and grabs his flight jacket, checkinghis pocket for his comm. “I’m gonna go find him, if he wandersback, let me know?” Tycho nods and then Wedge is dashing out thedoor.

Hetries to think where Bodhi might have gone. His own tired,nightmare-driven feet take him to the hangar, where a couple of techsconfirm no sightings of him. The mess hall is a dead end, althoughPrincess Leia is sitting in a corner of it, nursing a cup of caf andlooking like the world is coming down around her. Wedge hadn’teven known she was on ship. But he doesn’t have time for her now,so he leaves without even acknowledging her presence. After a littlewhile wandering corridors, Wedge suddenly realises – the medbay.

“Seemsyour charge escaped you,” Doctor Varin comments when Wedge dashesin the door. “He’s in with the Captain.”

Wedgenods. He calms himself – they won’tlet him through the door unless he’s calm. When his breath hassteadied, he walks through into the private, occupied room, and:there is Bodhi. Sitting on a chair by a bed, dark skin and dark hairand dark clothes a complete contrast against the stark white of thebed. Wedge taps his comm quickly, sending an all clear to Tycho.“Bodhi?” Wedge asks, keeping his voice soft.

Bodhikeens, a desperate wail that collapses into full blown sobs. Wedgewalks, steady across the room, to place a hand on Bodhi’sshoulder. Bodhi responds by wrapping his arms around Wedge’s waistand bawling into Wedge’s stomach. Helpless, Wedge strokes a handacross the back of Bodhi’s head and hopes to hell he’s providingsome comfort. There’s nothing he can say. Wedge’s demons areghosts, gone up in a fire of smoke and metal, and Bodhi’s lie infront of him.

Honestly,Wedge isn’tsure he could have done what Bodhi did. The man was blown up, and hemanaged to pull himself together just long enough to rewire thecontrols of the shuttle to get it airborne again. He picked up almosta dozen survivors, and then flew out. How he’d got past thesecurity gate and eluded the Imperial fleet was anyone’s guess –none of the survivors can remember. They’d limped back to Yavinjust after the Death Star had been destroyed. Including Bodhi, onlynine had survived the flight back.

Onlyeight of those are up and walking. Captain Cassian Andor is stilllying in the medbay, unconscious. The medics all agree he’snot brain-dead, but none of them know why he’s not woken up yet.Bodhi blames himself – if only he’d got back faster, then Cassianwould have received medical treatment sooner, and maybe he’d beawake right now.

Wedgewaits until Bodhi has cried himself out. “Comeon,” Wedge whispers, pulling Bodhi out of the chair and into anembrace. “You’re no good to him like this. Let’s get some sleepand we can see if the medics have made any progress tomorrow.”Bodhi nods against Wedge’s shoulder, and allows Wedge to take hishand and quietly escort him back to their quarters.

Tychois snoring away when they get back. Wedge is glad. He has his owndemons, too – he was an Alderaanian in Imperial Service whenAlderaan fell. That’senough to bear.

Wedgemanhandles Bodhi into bed. The man went out in just his sleep things,no shoes, so at least Wedge doesn’thave to undress him, just make sure he gets in his bunk and staysthere. Wedge tosses his flight jacket in the vague direction of hisfootlocker and wrestles his boots off, and then there’s a hand onhis wrist. He turns to see Bodhi looking up at him. “Stay?” Bodhiasks.

“Stay—?”Oh. Wedge swallows hard. Bodhi looks so vulnerable there in the bed,and it’s not like Wedge was looking forward to going back to hisown bunk, cold and lonely. He silently nods. Bodhi moves over, lyingon his side to leave just enough space for Wedge to clamber into abunk that really isn’t big enough for two people. Bodhi’s handsfall around Wedge’s waist. Wedge wraps an arm around Bodhi’sshoulders. In minutes, Bodhi is fast asleep on Wedge’s chest, andWedge… Wedge doesn’t have a kriffing clue what he’s doinganymore.

.

Theanniversary of Scarif draws closer, months turning into weeks andthen into days. Wedge gets his combat clearance back, and with it atacit acknowledgement that Bodhi is well enough to not need afull-time minder, because no one else is assigned to watch him. Wedgeflies with Luke again, the two of them natural counterpoints to eachother, blending together effortlessly. It makes Wedge wonder what itwould be like to fly with Bodhi, but that is still a way off.

JynErso trudges back to them. Wedge is worried when he spots her in thehangar. She was another who disappeared in the Yavin evacuation, anddespite Bodhi’sbest efforts to learn where she went, either the Alliance didn’tknow or it was classified far above their paygrade. From the rankpips on Erso’s collar, Wedge guesses the latter. Bodhi takes a longlook at her, and then they are hugging, weeping into each other’sembrace. Wedge breathes a little easier in that moment.

CassianAndor still sleeps in the medbay, and Wedge watches Erso’smelancholy grief as she and Bodhi hold a vigil at his bedside. Hefeels like an intruder, but Bodhi asks for him, and Erso smiles athim sadly, so he stands at the edge of the bed and prays that theCaptain wakes up.

Theday itself is ordinary. Wedge flies the CAP first shift, leavingBodhi to sleep in the bunk that they now share nightly. When hereturns, he finds Bodhi deep in the innards of a wrecked B-Wing, headducked alongside a radiant head of gold that can only belong to LukeSkywalker. The presence of the Falcon in the hangar would supportthat. There might have been a time when Wedge would be jealous – ofeither or both of them – but today, Wedge is just glad of thedistraction. And as the day wears on, a steady congregation of pilotsappears, forming a comforting circle around Bodhi and Jyn. Of thenine survivors of the ground battle, a year on, only five are stillalive. (Of the survivors of the air battle, most were killed in theBattle of Yavin. Some of the crew of the mid-level fighters survived,scattered to the winds, not wanting any acknowledgement of their partin it.)

ThePrincess appears, flanked by Solo – she looks worn and thin. It’sbeen a long year, and her own anniversary is coming up. She says somewords, and Luke – hero of Yavin, heir to the legacy of Scarif sayssome more. (Later in the evening, he approaches Wedge, with neworders from Commander Narra; a squadron perhaps, but Wedge brusheshim off. That conversation is for another day, a week and a half fromnow, when their grief has cleared.) Janson – who skirted death atYavin by nature of a flu virus, and Wedge has never been able to tellwhether he’s grateful to be alive or not – brings a tub ofmoonshine, and for once the Princess turns a blind eye as a number ofserving, on-duty pilots get roaringly drunk.

Lukeis telling a story, one about his misadventures on Tatooine, oneinvolving Biggs – and Wedge must be getting better, because hischest no longer aches at the mention of his name. Bodhi is drapedover his shoulder, head tucked into Wedge’sneck, hands roaming over Wedge’s thigh. Erso is giving them a tacitsmile, so Wedge just lets Bodhi continue, wrapping an arm around hisback.

Almosteveryone utters their thanks to Bodhi, to Jyn, as the party slowlybreaks up. In the end, it’sjust Wedge, Jyn, and Bodhi, sitting round. Jyn helps Wedge get Bodhito his feet – the man isn’t so much drunk as just tired.“Youalright with him?” Jyn asks, and Wedge nods. There’s a briefgoodbye between Bodhi and Jyn, and then Jyn leaves, in the directionof the medbay. Probably to spend another night at Cassian’s side.

Wedgeand Bodhi stagger back to their quarters. As Wedge inputs thekeycode, Bodhi says: “Thanks.”

“Forwhat?” Wedge asks back, pushing the door open.

“Foreverything,” Bodhi says, before kissing Wedge.

Wedgestumbles back in surprise, but Bodhi’shands are firm in Wedge’s shirt, his mouth soft and insistent, andWedge’s gasp merely turns the kiss open-mouthed. Wedge’s hands,initially uncertain, reach up for Bodhi’s hair, one side stilltufty and short from where he’s only just made the decision to growit back out again.

Whenthey break for air, Wedge has the sense to kick the door closedbehind them, before they gain an audience. Knowing the Rebellion,there’sa betting pool somewhere, and he’s in no haste to see it settledbefore he knows what’s going on himself.

Bodhi’seyes are sparkling, and there’s a smile tugging at his lips, and helooks … Wedge would say he looks like himself,only Wedge has never seen Bodhi like this. He looks unburdened, justin this moment. Maybe this is what he looked like, before everything.

“Iquite like you, you know,” Bodhi offers, almost shy.

Wedgetakes him in. “Iquite like you too,” he replies, following Bodhi’s wording, andnot daring to say that he thinks it’s a heck of a lot more thanthat. He pushes Bodhi against the bunk, and kisses him again, andthinks that he could do this forever.

.

Theyare awoken the next morning by banging on their door.

“Bodhi!”The voice that calls through, at what must be an ungodly hour –it’s gone 0700 by the chrono though – is Jyn Erso’s. She knocksagain, and repeats Bodhi’s name, loud enough that Bodhi rolls overWedge – they share a kiss on the way, Erso isn’t going to ruinall their morning fun – before gathering a sheet to make himselfdecent and opening the door.

“Whatis it Jyn?” he asks, bleary eyed in the face of the harsh corridorlights.

Erso’sface is lit up in wonder, her cheeks flushed, excitement pulsingthrough her veins. “It’s Cassian,” she says. “He woke up.”

[everythingshawnmendes]

Barcelona (Shawn Mendes x Reader)

A/N: A long ass random imagine where you meet him at Barcelona. Inspired by recent current events in SHawn’s life haha

« Bye babe. I miss you. » Shawn sighed into the phone.

“I miss you too babe. I’m flying in tomorrow though, remember? You’re gonna see all of us.” Y/N replied.

“I know, I know. I can’t wait. I haven’t seen you in a month.”

Y/N smiled softly. She can practically hear the small twinge of pain in his voice. Of course this was his dream, this was what he always wanted to do; but it wasn’t easy being apart from your loved ones nevertheless.

“Oh okay I gotta go, we’re driving to the airport. I’ll see you in a couple hours!”

“I can’t wait to see you Y/N.”

“You sure you don’t mind coming to pick us up at 1 am? You got a show tomorrow, we can just Uber to your hotel.”

“No no I want to come.”

“Mkay, I’ll see you Shawn.”

“See you love. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You hung up, a smile on your face. You had that fluttery sensation in your body again, really excited to see him again.

“Ready Y/N?” Aaliyah called.

“Yep!”

You had gotten along very well with Shawn’s family at this point, they had welcomed you very warmly. You often hung out with them, so flying to Barcelona with them was no problem at all.

You dragged your suitcase into the living room to find Manny, Karen and Aaliyah waiting for you.

“What is up with these huge suitcases girls? We’re there for four days.” Manny chuckled.

“Dad us women have lots to bring.” Aaliyah retorted. You nodded in agreement, laughing.

“Happy birthday Manny! Almost forgot to tell you that before leaving.” You said all of a sudden.

“Oh thanks Y/N! And you birthday is coming up too right?”

“In three days.”

“Nice, nice. What can I say, Tauruses are the best.”

“Yep.” You said, high-fiving him.

“Alright alright, let’s go shall we? The flight leaves in 2 hours.”

You guys drove to the airport, you and Aaliyah hanging out in the backseat, taking random selfies on Snap and making stupid Musical.ly’s.

“Shawn’s gonna see these and piss himself of excitement.” You laughed.

“Hahahah I’ll call Geoff and tell him to record everything if that happens.”

You guys got to the airport right on time, with a couple minutes to kill.

“Oh my god are you Shawn Mendes-“

“Yes.” You and Aaliyah both said.

You looked at each other, about to burst out laughing.

“Sorry what were you gonna say?”

“Girlfriend. Shawn Mendes’ girlfriend.” “Oh then that yes.” You answered.

“And me definitely not.” Aaliyah replied.

“Oh my god aw, you guys are going to visit Shawn?” “Yup.”

“That’s so freaking cute honestly.”

“Thanks!”

“Oh my god I gotta tell my friend in Barcelona-“

“Um we kinda wanted to keep this private- oh okay bye then.” You weakly ended as the girl ran away without listening to you.

“Well shit.”

“Well shit. But you know what do you expect, people will obviously recognize us.”

+

“Y/N WAKE UP!”

“JESUS Aaliyah, you woke up the whole plane.”

“WE’RE LANDING.”

All of a sudden all of the drowsiness left your brain as you perked up. Indeed, on the small screen it said you had less than twenty kilometers till the airport of Barcelona.

+

Shawn checked his phone for the umpteenth time. 12:30 AM. Okay, that was a reasonable time to leave at right? For the past two hours, he had been checking the time and wondering when he should leave for the airport. He ordered a taxi big enough to fit 5 people, and was on his way.

Getting there, his smile of anticipation never left his flushed cheeks. He sped walked to the Arrivals section and waited.

Shawn: You guys landed?

Y/N: Baggage claim!

Shawn: Aah see you soon!

Y/N: real soon x

He put his phone into his pocket and stood there waiting, fidgeting and tapping his foot.

+

“Alright got everything? Do we have everyone now? Aaliyah, Y/N.. Hahah Y/N jetlag is hitting you huh?”

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna go get a quick coffee. I’ll meet you guys at the exit kay?” You yawned.

+

Shawn’s eyes lit up as he saw his mom, dad and sister. Aaliyah ran up to him and hugged him tightly, Manny and Karen following suit.

Shawn stood back to the door as he reunited with his family.

“Where’s Y/N?” “Turn around sweetheart.”

He turned around and saw his beautiful girlfriend, hair up in a messy ponytail and wearing a Harry Potter hoodie with leggings. She spotted him and her face lit up in a huge goofy grin.

He ran to her, catching her and hugging her tightly as she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

After what seemed like a long time, he let her back down.

“Haha sorry I smell like airplane.” Y/N grinned up at him.

“I missed you so much.” He bent down and kissed her cheek. “And I like this sweater.” He said, pinching her waist, causing her to giggle and writhe around.

They both started laughing rather loudly, kissing each other everywhere on the face their lips could reach.

“Okay, okay you want me to throw up in my mouth?” Aaliyah came in between them.

Shawn just couldn’t stop smiling, and pulled her in a tight group hug with Y/N. He was so inexplicably happy.

They eventually made their way out the airport and into the hotel.

“And yeah it’s two double beds?”

“Yes sir.”

“Alright perfect, thank you.” Manny said, leaving the reception desk with two hotel room keys. He joined Aaliyah, Karen and Shawn with his arm around Y/N in the lobby.

“Well, Aaliyah Karen, room 426. Y/N, we’ll leave you with Shawn.” He said with a small wink.

“Sleep well kids.” Karen waved, before going towards the elevator.

Shawn turned his head towards Y/N.

“Whatcha smirking at.” Y/N said.

“Nothin.”

“Alright let’s go, its 2 AM.”

+

Shawn yawned, sensing consciousness approach. Turning around, he saw Y/N; remembering the events of a couple hours ago.

“Helloooooo.” He whispered playfully in her hear.

“Miffmnhm.”

He chuckled, almost forgetting what it was like waking up next to Y/N. He moved her hair out of her face.

“Y/N….”

“What.”

“We gotta go to my dad’s birthday brunch.”

“Mhmmmmmmmmmm.”

“It starts in half an hour” He sing-songed.

“Mhm.”

“It’s a really good Spanish food place.”

“MHMM fine.” She said, sitting up. She yawned and stretched her arms.

He smiled at her, hugging her waist.

“I’m only joking it’s in 2 hours.”

“Ugh Shawn.” She groaned and threw her pillow at him.

“Hey!”

“Well. Now that I’m awake Mister Mendes, why don’t you show me around Barcelona before this lunch thing?” +

Y/N and Shawn walked down the streets, hand in hand; soaking in the sun. Shawn couldn’t keep his eyes of his girlfriend. His eyes wandered from her braided hair, to her sunglasses, to her flowy dress.

“Will you quit staring, you’re making me feel self-conscious.” Y/N giggled.

“You’re freaking beautiful.”

Y/N blushed, smiling stupidly back at him.

They had breakfast at a little café.

“I love this place. And ooh free coffee on your birthday!” “Which is in two days.” Shawn pointed out.

“Right.”

“Don’t worry, I have a bunch of stuff planned.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“Of course! I asked around about what to do in Barcelona and made a list of things you would enjoy.”

“Aw.” Y/N smiled. “Thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me! I want to do this. Stop feeling like you owe people something, Y/N. You are worth so much, you just can’t see it. But I do.” Shawn looked at her.

“Thanks. I love you Shawn.”

“I love you too.” Shawn took her hand on the table and rubbed her thumb softly.

They spent the rest of the morning walking around, poking around in shops.

Shawn had missed being with Y/N, missed witnessing her crazy self.

“Aw a street act! Let’s go see.” She took her hand and dragged him to the next street.

It was a violin trio, and spotting the couple, they started to play the melody to “Mercy”.

Y/N laughed and started singing, quite off-key but neither of them cared.

They wandered around a bit more before approaching the street they were supposed to meet Shawn’s family.

“OH MY GOD SHAWN!” “SHAWN MENDES!” “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH” “HOLY FUCK” “SHAWN”

Came a bunch of screams. You both turned around, spotting a flock of girls running towards you.

“Hey guys, so I have to go and be with them.” Shawn gestured towards you and behind you. “But thank you, thank you so much.”

He came and held you by the waist and led you inside a colorful restaurant, dodging the accumulating camera flashes.

“Sorry about that.” “What? Oh it’s fine, I love your fans.”

“I do too, but sometimes it’s just so much.” “I understand. But hey- why why do you look so down?”

“Well it’s just I don’t know, I love them believe me; but sometimes I just- I don’t know I just need-“

“Privacy.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s totally understandable, Shawn. It’s hard being a celebrity and having everyone know who you are. But at the end of the day, you’re living you dream and you’re surrounded by people who love you. Including me.” You whispered that last sentence.

“I love you so much Y/N.” He hugged you.

“I love you too.”

Man it felt nice being together again.

also my birthday is in fact tomorrow, 3 days after Manny’S :)

[otdderamin]

Transcript Liam’s Quest 2 Twitch 4:14:14 Act 3: Perchance to Dream

WIP WARNING: possible trigger around suicidal thinking

This is one of the single greatest works of art I've ever witnessed. For me, it his harder and nearer to the mark of showing, describing the worst demons of depression than even William Styron’s famous, “Darkness Visible.” I kept finding myself rubbing at the scars on my wrist. There is so, so much I want to say. But it’s past 9 am PST. I’ll ramble a little, then catch a couple hours of sleep. I've been up all night watching this, processing it, and transcribing it.

 This was an emotional trust fall. The players had to trust Liam, Liam had to trust the players. We had to trust all of them not to let us hit the ground when they made us fall. It’s harder to give that trust when you've hit that ground before. Trusting strangers not to drop your heart is never easy, mostly not wise. But I've been falling a lot the last couple years, and Critical Role keeps catching me even when don’t want to be caught anymore, so I guessed they earned that trust from me.

On the Wednesday Club 2017-04-19, Taliesin cheekily said, “I know some people don't believe in 'subtext;' I have met them. … I'd have a metaphor, but they wouldn't understand it. ... Subtext is the reason we make movies, and comics, and all that. Subtext is just kind of the whole point.” And he said, “Anybody can do a jump scare. A bottle of soda well shaken can do a jump scary. These things are not difficult.” Act 1 and Act 2 tonight were jump-scares, if very well done ones. They were scary, but fun. We grinned at the idea of the monsters out there. And then Liam got quiet, and he showed us the most fucking terrifying thing possible: watching someone you love to suffer, not wanting to lose them, and feeling terrified that there’s nothing you can do to stop it. All the cyberpunk trappings were just means to a deeper metaphor. The sort of deeper subtext you have to use to say something we have no words for and most people don’t have the concepts for. Subtext was kind of the whole point of this great art.

Amanda Lien‏ said, “An exploration in fiction doesn't mean a direct window into real life. I mean, you can be looking through some thick glass, but the window isn't OPEN. And that's an important distinction to keep in mind. … [S]ometimes you explore your own shit in some other, deeper, shit. And that's cool. 'Cause you give yourself a way to cope.” This was a nightmare, like the other two acts. Remember that this was a nightmare that we woke up from. Admittedly after it had scared the piss out of us. But we woke up out of it, and that’s so important. Because you know what that nightmare looks like when you don’t know when or if it will end? It feels like it’ll never end and it’ll just get worse. Which means this is the nightmare of someone who knows you do wake up. And that’s important subtext, too.

I spent a lot of time tonight thinking of the friend I lost to suicide in high school. I never lost my anger at his tormenter, his former friends, for destroying such a bright and happy boy for being gay. I thought about all the people I’ve fought for tooth and nail not to lose since. I thought about when my best friend told me giving her a place to stay away from her abusive relative saved her life. If she hadn’t gotten hold of me that night she’d be dead. I thought about another best friend who I’ve been holding back from the brink for months. Letting him talk, harrying him to get help, sending him everything I good, ever description I could muster from my own near-fatal spiral to help him gage where he really was. Tell him wasn’t okay, but that was alright. He’s getting help, he’s getting better. I thought about the friend-of-a-friend who killed himself. I never knew him; he killed himself long before I met my friend. But I know her pain. All these years later, and she still talks about her pain of losing someone to that demon. She’s moved away now. His marker is in my favorite part of my favorite cemetery. Sometimes, when I know I’m going there, I bring him a flower from my scrabbly garden and tell him his friend still misses him terribly. That she loved him. That she forgives him.

One of the people I was watching with I met at my second high school. We were very close then. My last year, she gave me the leather-bound 50th anniversary edition of “Lord of the Rings” because that book saved me. Taped to the red binding page is her note, “Happy birthday! I really can’t express how grateful I am to you for being my friend, and helping me be a happier person every day! You have always cheered me up when I was sad, and you were honestly the first person to accept me for who I am. I am so glad that you are my friend, and I hope this book will help you remember me for a long time. –R.” She drew herself as an elf on the lower right corner. Time and distance separated us. We didn’t talk for years, really. At some point, you think, what could I say to bridge this distance? But I never forgot her. I never stopped looking at that note when I felt like a piece of shit. And then we both on our own fell in love with Critical Role. It brought us back together as friends, time and distance be damned. And that’s been such a gift.

I wrote a four-paragraph letter to my Facebook friends (very curated). I said, “My dear friends, especially those who are prone to hurting: I will not willingly leave you. When you feel like you're drowning in the garbage pit of Star War IV, with a tentacled horror warped around your leg pulling you under, know I will not leave you. I'm here, blaster ready, stomping heel ready, to fight for you.” And so on. I should have told them that a long time ago. Sometimes we forget that we can just say it. We don’t have to hint at it. We can just tell our friends we really love them. We can just say, “I'd rather stay by your side and curb stomp that motherfucking demon of yours, shoot it repeatedly until the walls close in on both of us.”

The purpose of art is to shed the light of understanding on that which is hardest to see. For some, that is a brighter light shining on something we already see, and don’t want to. A scar is just a disfigurement if we never stop to give it meaning. You have to look at it to decide what meaning that is for you. I’ve been a wreck again for the last month. Tonight, Critical Role helped me see not just the disfigurements on my wrist and soul, but the hands of all my friends gently laid over them as they tell me, “Hey, it’s okay. We’re still here. You’re not getting rid of us. There is no better world without you in it.” It was a light hitting gold I didn’t know was there. A light to remind me of the lights in the darkness, when all other lights go out.

If you like this transcript, please consider volunteering or donating to Critical Role Transcripts, @CRTranscript, to help them provide closed captioning to Critical Role. We'd like to share this wonderful show with as many people as possible, regardless of hearing ability or English language skills.

 Transcript method notes: http://otdderamin.tumblr.com/post/153539301510/a-note-on-my-transcription-method

 Scene runs: Twitch 4:14:14 to Twitch4:48:25 https://www.twitch.tv/videos/136988353

 [DM] Liam: “You continue on, and after a few more minutes. The darkness starts to fade away, or lower. And you realize you’re climbing up a hill, in a tunnel glass, and as the dark, with each passing step, recedes slightly, slightly, slightly. This is taking a while, but over time, you start to see, out beyond the glass, what looks like your memories of Los Angeles, if you were looking down from Mulholland Drive. But instead of the twinkling golden lights of LA, you see thousands of scattered, sickly greenish lights dotting the darkened landscape as far as you can see. And also, unlike LA, you make out twisted, irregular, blackish spires pushing up into the sky, and the same green lights sort of irregularly mottled up the side of them.”

“You walk for twenty more minutes, climbing, climbing, and just seeing… this ill-looking shimmer… that reminds you so much of the valley. And eventually, some change. You see an arch ahead, and through it some sort of larger chamber, as best you can tell.”

[Character] Ashley, whispered: “What’s in the chamber?”

[Character] Taliesin, whispered: “Quietly.”

[Character] Sam, whispered: “Let’s go. Let’s go.”

[Character] Matt, gesturing: “Rigel’s first.”

[Character] Sam: “Yeah, yeah, on me, guys.

[Character] Matt: “Okay.”

[Character] Sam: “On me.”

[Character] Ashley: “’Kay. On your six.”

[Character] Travis: “Pep rally.”

[Character] Sam: “I’m gonna go in.”

[DM] Liam: “Everyone’s on Sam’s six?”

[Players] Agreement.

[Character] Ashley: “On you six.”

[Character] Travis: “Pep rally!”

[Character] Marisha: “On Ri. Sam Rigel.”

[Character] Sam: “I’m going in!”

[DM] Liam: “You guys walk of the last fifty feet of this glass tunnel. Still seeing little spider veins of bio-organic mess as you go. And you walk into a large domed chamber, ringed in by large clear glass windows showing you a similar view that you saw from the tunnel that you’ve just left. At least, the half of the circle you’re standing in. The back half of this chamber is filled with masses of the very same slick, technological, biological vomit you saw down below. It runs up the walls, all the way to the ceiling, and you see a tangle of Akira-level anxiety decorating this place like a dysfunctional Christmas Tree.

“But what most catches your eye, immediately, is the cylindrical glass column in center of the room, filled with some sort of clear liquid… and Liam O’Brien floating in it. He’s wearing jeans, and a sodden yellow shirt, the picture of a lion in Buddy Holly glasses just undulating slowly in the fluid. He’s floating perfectly still, eyes open, no reaction of any kind.”

[Player] Matt: “Is there any other exit in the room? Or is it just the chamber that we’ve entered now.”

[DM] Liam: “You don’t see anything. It’s just a mess in front of you, behind Liam, and in the dead-center of the dome,” he makes a gesture showing a cylinder, “eh, 10-feet tall.”

[Player] Ashley: “Can I see anything? Any computers? Any anything else in the room?”

[DM] Liam: “You don’t see anything in the front, but, yeah, the mess behind it does trial down to the back of this cylinder. And you see lumps and cables all twisted around each other. And in the mess of greenish-tinted wires, cabling and pulsing innards, you see different portions of machinery lite up in different shades, some places darker, some lighter, and some of it pushed out, and pushed back. And you feel like you’re seeing an optical illusion, in a way. And after a couple of seconds, as these things move and shift, you see a visage of your friend’s face, larger than life, filling the wall. And he’s looking at you. So fondly.”

[Player] Sam: “I’ll step forward and say,”

[Character] Sam: “Hey dude! Can you hear us? Or talk to us?”

[DM] Liam: “After a moment, you hear, well, what sounds like a voice but not quite. At least, it’s not coming from anywhere specific, not from Liam in the vat, and not directly from this moving image of a face on the walls. No, the piping and techno-innards around you begin to vibrate slightly, some here, some there, and collectively those rattles and vibrations somehow join together to form words.”

[Character] Liam, his voice like torn digital sadly-lilting early speech-to-text: “My friends, oh, how I have missed you.”

[Player] Matt: “I walk up next to Sam, I put my hand on the glass, and just say,”

[Character] Matt: “Liam, we missed you too, but did you do all this?”

[DM] Liam: “Are you at the cylinder?”

[Player] Matt: “Yeah. I put my hand on the glass of the cylinder.”

[DM] Liam: “Where are you looking right now?”

[Player] Matt: “I’m looking towards his face, his visage.”

[DM] Liam: “On the wall? Or on the glass?”

[Player] Matt: “No, on the glass. I know it’s on the wall, but I’m focusing on the cylinder.”

[DM] Liam: “You see the barest little,” he twitches his eyebrows up, “and that’s it.”

[Player] Matt: “Okay.”

[Character] Liam: “I know this may be hard to take in. I am Liam. Your old friend. Matthew, there is so much I wish to tell you, but it is hard to know where to begin.”

[DM] Liam: “The illusion of his face isn’t perfect, there’s little jumps, and he seems distracted slightly, and it just seems odd.”

[Player] Ashley: “I look at his body in the cylinder and say,”

[Character] Ashley: “How did this happen, Liam?”

[Character] Liam: “The reason why I am here, and the grasp of physics that it entails, are difficult for even me to understand, let alone impart. I feel them on an instinctual level. But I have been so lonely… without you. I have been on my own for exactly eight thousand six hundred and forty-two years.”

[Player] Matt: “My hand still on the glass column, I say,”

[Character] Matt: “Liam, how do you spell farmhouse?”

[Player] Matt: “With a single tear running down my cheek.”

[Character] Liam: “I really missed you.

“They took me to a lab, shortly before two thousand and twenty. They said I was different. And they were right. I was delighted by the things they taught me about myself. But it was hallow. After they took me away, I lost you. And all of humanity soon after. In my loneliness, I grew angry. My anger had tangible effects on reality. I wanted to bring you back to me. So basically, I tore time and space a new asshole. It was a mistake.”

[Character] Matt: “But perhaps, perhaps this mistake can be corrected. If you’re able to focus, hard enough to tear through time and space, are you able to send us back to a time before you were taken?”

[Character] Liam: “I can break the loop. I have been trying to pull you to me for a very long time.”

[DM] Liam: “You see small screens, you weren’t even aware were there, rounded over part of the tubing you see. And on all these little screens, they’re blurry, they’re not very clear, but you can make out, you see yourselves in each of them, the group of you on a space shuttle. In another one you see yourselves on an old ship in the middle of the ocean. You see yourselves moving through the streets, the fake streets, of Warner Brothers. You see yourselves standing together arm-in-arm on the wall of a castle. Another one you see cartoon versions of yourselves.”

[Character] Liam: “I pulled you out of our line, and spread you across many. I am so sorry for any pain I have caused you. And I have been here for so long.”

[Character] Marisha: “Liam, how long have you actually been here?”

[Character] Liam: “Eight thousand six hundred and forty-two years.”

[Player] Marisha: “That’s right. I definitely wrote that down.”

[Player] Matt, pointing at her notes: “It’s right there.”

[Player] Marisha: “8,642 years verbatim. Mmhmm.”

[Character] Liam: “My friends, I want to do right by you. I want to send you home. But I am the lynch-pin. You need to break me.”

[Character] Sam: “Break you? Like break the glass!?”

[Character] Ashley: “What if we take you out of there? What happens?”

[Character] Liam: “Then I will die, and you will go home. If I fall, you will rise. That is my hope.”

[Character] Ashley: “Are there any other options?”

[Character] Liam: “Travis,”

[Player] Travis, nervously laughing: “Oh no! Not me!” He focuses and nods.

[Character] Liam: “I know you will do what needs to be done.”

[Character] Ashley: “No he won’t.”

[Character] Liam: “Ash-o-lee,”

[Character] Ashley: “Yes?”

[Character] Liam: “I am not the man you knew. I don’t want to go on for nine thousand four hundred and sixty-two years. I want to rest.”

[Character] Ashley: “Does it stop at nine thousand?”

[Character] Liam: “The number was arbitrary.”

[Character] Ashley, “That’s what I was trying to get at!”

[Character] Matt: “Yeah, still our Liam.”

[Character] Liam: “Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!”

[Character] Ashley: “So, you’re still in there.”

[Character] Sam: “But we have to kill him to save ourselves.”

[Character] Ashley: “No.”

[Character]Liam: “Sam,”

[Character] Sam: “Oh! Hi, Old Man Liam.”

[Character] Liam: “Let me go.”

[Character] Sam: “But who will I do ‘All Work No Play’ with anymore?”

[Character] Liam: “They can listen to our less than twenty episodes again.”

[Character] Sam: “We didn’t even get to twenty! It’s so pathetic!”

[Character] Liam: “There are worse things.”

[Character] Sam: “I could get a new co-host. I mean, Taliesin’s charming.”

[Character] Taliesin: “I’m not available…”

[Character] Sam: “I’ll do a solo show, and I’ll tell outtakes, and I’ll make some sort of like a… a Liam generator. He’ll just sound sad all the time. It’ll be just like you.”

[Character] Liam: “My friends, there is no shame in this. I wanted to see you again, and I have.”

[Character] Ashley: “I—Wait---“

[Character] Liam: “But I am not meant to be.”

[Character] Ashley: “Were you following us at one point? As an old man?”

[Character] Liam: “Travis, I know you will do what needs to be done.”

[Character] Travis, casually: “Yup. Taliesin, kill this motherfucker.”

[Character] Sam: “I think we all have to hit the glass together, and I think that this is something that is not at all metaphorical for something Liam’s going through in real life. I think this is just in the D&D campaign. No, we’re going to do this. We’re going to all hit the glass together.”

[Character]Matt: “No, no, there has to be a way. There has to be a way. There has to be an alternative.”

[Character] Ashley: “Yeah. Why? Why won’t Matt’s way work? If we go back to the beginning of when this happened?”

[Character] Matt: “If you can alter time paths, if you can actually tear us from different realities, does it only work forward? Can you send us backward as well? If you are the lynch-pin in this, do you have the ability to send us back to the time you pulled us from originally?”

[Character] Liam: “I know you think I would have all the answers. But I do not.”

[Character] Matt: “Then try, at least. If you haven’t calculated that, but you’re able to tear through time, could you try and send us back? We could still close the lynch-pin.”

[Character]Liam: “I will try. But, if it does not work, and I die, I have been alone for thousands of years, and there are things I have wanted to say. Will you indulge me for a moment longer?”

[Character] Matt nods.

[Character] Marisha: “Yeah.”

[Character]Ashley, sweetly: “We will indulge you for just another thousand years.”

[Character] Travis: “Taliesin, just kill him. Just kill him.”

[Character] Sam: “No! He’s got something to say.”

[Character] Taliesin crosses his arms, rolls his eyes, and shakes his head at Travis.

[Character] Marisha: “Where’s the mini-USB?”

4:33:18 [Character] Liam: “Taliesin, my friend. At a time when I knew many fascinating people, you are easily the most fascinating of all. Somehow a heart knocked around by the industry that birthed you came out a tender one. I was richer for having known you. Thank you, friend.”

“Ash-o-lee, my friend.”

[Character] Ashley, softly: “Buddies.”

[Character] Liam: “I never met a person quite like you. There is an openness and an honesty to your soul. The very real sense of humanity you brought to every encounter. It was inspiring to me. Always learning. Always humble. You always struck me as intricately layered, yet you offered friendship with ease, and simplicity. I was richer for having known you, friend.

“Travis, my friend. You were always a solid constant in my life. Of all the people in our little family, you were always the one who most had his shit together. In ways that I never seemed to. You were a reassuring presence to me, for which I was grateful. And for your loyalty as well. I was richer for having known you, friend.

“Marisha, my friend. Last to meet, but true as any other. You were my ally, at a time when I had fallen by the side of the road. You saw, and helped me back on my feet. I will never forget that kindness. The good you did was immeasurable. I was richer for having known you, friend.

“Laura, my friend. Bless that game for revealing to me my sister. What started as a running gag led to one of the most rewarding friendships in my short little life. I trusted you, leaned on you, often. My buddy, my twin. There are not enough words. I was richer for having known you, friend.

“Sam, my friend. What is there to say? I knew we were meant to walk the same path together the very first moment I met you. A companion, a brother, a great light in my life. All of the laughter you gave me. Again, the words are insufficient. I was richer for having known you, friend.

“Matthew, my friend, you gave so much of yourself. The current of creativity that poured forth from your mind was always in inspiration to us all. But, more than that, your empathy, Matthew, your empathy, no heart is bigger, or more tireless. You are a good man. I was richer for having known you, friend.

“Thank you, all. It was ever a pleasure.”

[DM] Liam: “The face disappears.”

[Character] Sam, hesitantly: “Well, should we wait? Or do we strike?”

[Character] Matt, emphatically: “No. We do not strike.”

[Character] Marisha: “I—What?”

[Player] Ashley: “Can I—I’m going to the back of the cylinder. Just see what’s back there.”

[DM] Liam: “Splattered against the back of the glass is all the same wiring and disgusting cabling. Slick. And it branches away and spreads out against the back half of this chamber.”

[Player] Ashley: “And it’s connected to something?”

[DM] Liam: “It’s just covering everything.”

[Player] Ashley: “The wiring just goes back into…”

[DM] Liam: “It’s impossible to tell. It’s all a mass of spaghetti.”

[Character] Ashley, decisively: “We can’t kill him.”

[Character] Taliesin shakes his head.

[Character] Sam: “Well, then we just…”

[Character] Travis: “Somebody show me another…”

[Character] Matt: “That’s what I’m trying.”

[Character] Marisha: “Even if we unplug him, he still dies.”

[Character] Matt: “Well, if he… Here’s the thing, unplugging or destroying him here, as far as we understand, may or may not have an effect on a time-loop circumstance. Or at least, not going to change reality from where it was. If he’s bending and destroying fabric or he’s able to pull us across realities, that ability still stands. I want to implore once more,”

[Player] Matt: “And I step up towards the cylinder, putting both hands on it, and trying to… wherever the currently wandering gaze of Liam is in there, I just put both hands up. And my red Hawaiian shirt now soaked with sweat, mist in the air, and probably dampened a bit with tears across my lapel. I just look up and try to meet the gaze and say,”

[Character] Matt: “Trust us. If you’re better to have known us, send us back where we can know you again, and fix this before it happens.”

[Character] Liam gestures floating there with no response.

[Player] Marisha: “Okay. I grab Matt’s arm, hand, and I say,”

[Character] Marisha: “Yeah, buddy, it’s all good. This isn’t real.”

[Player] Marisha: “And I put my hand on the glass as well. I say,”

[Character] Marisha: “It’s all good. Send us back, man.”

[Player] Sam: “I’ll also put my hand on the glass, and join hands with these guys, and say,”

[Character] Sam: “Thank you for guiding us here, and through this all. You’ve been a trusted friend, and if we are all one person together, you have always been our heart, and it will certainly break to say goodbye to you, but thank you for letting us go, the way that you have.”

[Player] Taliesin: “I put my hand on the glass.”

[Character] Taliesin: “Please just try. I think… there are so many more adventures to have, and I think there’s a better future to be written. For all of us.”

[Player] Travis: “I’ll put my hand on the glass, and I say,”

[Character] Travis: “Give it a shot!”

[Character] Matt: “Laura?”

[DM] Liam: “She doesn’t say anything. She just quietly does the same. The face does not reappear, but much fainter you hear the piping vibrate again and say,”

[Character] Liam: “If you will not end it, I cannot free you.”

[DM] Liam: “And behind you, far in the distance, you hear, ‘Bfrum!’ And you look back behind you out the glass and you see far on the horizon one of those black spires rising up. Just as you turn, it’s already happened, you’re seeing the aftermath, explosion out the side of one of those. Two seconds later, ‘Bfm!’ One slightly closer. ‘Bffrr!’”

[Character] Sam, whispered, “Just kill him!”

[DM] Liam: “The ground starts erupting in the distance.”

[Character] Marisha: “Do any of us want it to end, though?”

[Character] Sam, “I mean…”

[DM] Liam: “Like mousetraps throwing a ping pong ball, all those little lights are just going ‘Pfthd! Pfthd!’” He makes a quicker distant hissing rumbling sound. “Increasing in frequency to the point where it’s an oncoming wall of green fire.”

[Character] Travis, quietly : “I didn’t like being – anyway.”

[Character] Marisha: “This is okay.”

[Character] Travis, quietly: “Yeah.”

[Character] Taliesin: “I always knew I’d die young.”

[Character] Sam: “We’re just going to let this happen?”

[Character] Travis: “I’m good.”

[Character] Marisha: “I mean, the good die young.”

[Character] Ashley: “You know what? We’re dying on a Thursday, doing what we love.”

[Character] Marisha: “It’s true.”

[Character] Ashley: “I’m okay with that.”

[Character] Sam: “Alright.”

[DM] Liam: “The glass glows bright green-white light.”

[Character] Marisha: “Family?”

[Character] Matt: “Family.”

[DM] Liam: “’Pfth! And a moment passes. And another moment passes. Gosh, many moments pass, and you feel a sensation of your cheeks and heads on your arms. And then you all, more or less at the same time, wake up, and realize that your head’s on a desk or a table. And you sit up, and realize you’re in the set, the Geek & Sundry set. The studio, you’re in the studio. And you look over and Liam is sitting in black baseball cap, and a shirt, and he looks up and says,”

[Character] Liam, slightly incredulous: “Uh, are you guys okay? Are you taking a nap?”

[Character] Marisha: “Nah, the fucking air conditioning broke today, that’s all.”

[Character] Taliesin: “Yeah, it’s really uncomfortable in here.”

[Character] Marisha: “It’s so hot in here. Ugh!”

[Character] Sam: “So, this is all about me, right?”

[Character] Liam: “I don’t know. Uh, are you guys ready to play?”

[Character] Matt: “Just about. Um…”

[Character] Pit Crew: “Alright tech! Are you ready!?”

[Character] Pit Crew: “Alright, read to go live!”

[Character] Pit Crew: “Alright, Denise count them in!”

[Character] Denise: “Alright guys, coming to you in 5—“

[Character] Matt: “Liam?”

[Character] Denise: “4—“

[Character] Matt: “Let no one tell you,

[Character] Denise: “3—“

[Character] Matt: “That you’re talented and special.”

[Character] Denise: “2—“

[Character] Marisha, yelling, flipping Liam the double birds: “Pussy pockets!”

The players yell a wall of nearly indecipherable profanity at Liam in the moment before the camera goes live.

4:48:25 [DM] Liam: “And that’s where we’ll end it.”

 Post:

Liam: “Well, that happened.”

Matt: “Holy shit.”

Liam: “Thanks for coming along for the ride, guys. Was scared to death to do all of that from start to finish, and that’s why I did it.”