#i don’t have much appetite most of the time but the meds were supposed to improve appetite and i did notice a change at first

[thisbrilliantsky]

went to doctor and got a new prescription to go with an increased dose of the other one bc it all (the afflictions, horrors, etc) has not improved/has gotten a lil worse. but! i did actually go and arrive on time despite v deeply and strongly Not Wanting To so go me

[rothjuje]

The sun setting early has been...nice? I forgot how much more I enjoy cooking (and eating) in the colder months. The time change has been...not so nice. It has completely derailed George’s ability to sleep through the night and I’m getting too old to be up multiple times a night. I don’t mind feeling tired, but it’s hard to get much done at this level of exhaustion (which does not help my mental state).

The kids had a shorter week last week which was nice. Things were less crazy overall and Justin and I were able to reconnect. We had our first (at home) date night since the move. We’ve actually spent the last three consecutive evenings together catching up on conversations and shows. Feels nice to leave the roommate phase.

We said goodbye to our last warm day yesterday and explored a new hiking spot that was very pretty. Weather is supposed to be in the mid 40s all next week. My friends here are starting to suffer from SAD, which I did not realize was an actual thing. So odd to me how MA just shuts down this time of year. I have the gift of novelty/not having experienced this season yet, so hopefully I won’t succumb to SAD.

I haven’t been able to convince Justin yet that a dog is a good idea but I have been able to convince him that a treadmill is! I ended up working out last week and the endorphins after were woah. I might actually buy myself earbuds or whatever they’re called and have a little workout date with myself in the evenings.

I have an appointment with a psych soon to discuss ADHD meds and I’m leaning toward staying unmedicated. Or maybe trying concerta again, but adderall isn’t for me. Maybe stimulants aren’t in general, I already struggle with appetite and falling asleep so the side effects really get me. I know there is non-stimulant ADHD medication but I don’t know enough about it/if it’s effective.

Also, I think most of my inability to complete tasks recently is due to the move/stress. I’ve had a few breaks over the past couple weeks and it has considerably improved my functionality/motivation. And I also realized I get weird if I don’t spend enough time outside so that too has helped center me.

I found out one of my friends has T/TH mornings free and we have plans to go on walks and just hang and I am so excited to have some adult interaction. It’s really, really nice to have two close friends here. I love my little town even if it does make me stir crazy at times. But we did find that beautiful hiking spot by a lake 12 minutes away so at least there’s something close to do while George is away at school in the mornings.

My car is having issues again. Sigh. Justin loves having a van, but I need something lighter and easier to drive/park. I love the Kia Sorento because it’s light/easy to drive and also has a third row. A Ford Explorer has a third row as well and is an attractive option because it seems a little safer in the snow/can tow and I would like a camper some day (but it’s heavier and pricier than the Sorento). I will miss having sliding doors and a tv though, hmm..

[gabelish]

I was trying to Google “what food do rich only rich people eat” (because of a convo I was having with my brother) and got a stupid quora question result “what food do rich people eat they are always skinny”

And surprisingly people actually acknowledged rich people having enough money to pay for cosmetic surgeries like liposuction and also expensive trainers

But one person was like “rich people are rich because they have self discipline which means they also don’t indulge in junk food” no the majority of rich people are not rich because they are penny pinchers or whatever stupid bullshit they’re rich because they were born rich because great great great great grand dad owned 2,000 slaves or stole land from indigenous peoples or taxed the shit out of poor tenant farmers or participated in business racketeering and vertical integration and their family has had money to invest and keep growing their wealth and purchase companies other people built ever since.

the American entrepreneur is rarely a poor immigrant who has a Good Idea and works hard. it’s almost always wealth acquired through unethical means. god damn even thomas edison stole, sued, harassed, and maybe even killed his own research assistant’s or competitor’s inventions and he’s supposed to be the American ideal from the gilded age, the shining star amongst the corruption.

rich people are not cut from a finer cloth than poor people or whatever. rich people: don’t have to deal with food deserts, can shop at fancy grocery stores, afford cooking lessons OR higher other people to cook for them, afford personal trainers, have the leisure and resources to dive deep into recreational sports like tennis or kayaking, easier to seek treatment for mental illnesses that cause overeating or disordered eating, get liposuction, have their stomachs stapled, hell even get some weight loss medication, or can get scripts to abuse prescription meds for their side effects of appetite suppression or weight loss, and most importantly, they can afford to buy healthy foods.

i literally do not buy vegetables or raw meat anymore because I do not eat them fast enough OR know how cook them consistently (I’m always afraid of undercooking meat so I overcook it until it’s basically burned and hard). Now I only buy lunch meat and frozen chicken nuggets. I buy my groceries at target. It’s cheap, I get a discount, I buy the generic versions of food items, AND it’s easier to shop lift food items from. also I work a physical labor job. When I come home at 8 pm I don’t have the energy to cook much of anything so I’m making a frozen dinner or eating left over pasta, which I cook often two boxes of at a time specifically so I can have leftovers for the whole week. And I am fat. I have too surgery in a month and I hit a few hospital’s BMI ceiling so I have to be seen at xyz hospital.

the quora post also made the assumption that skinny = healthy which is not the case. one of my cousins teeters the line between healthy and underweight. I shared a kitchen with her for 6 months. that woman puts lite beer and weed into her body and that’s it. all I picture when I imagine skinny rich man is Ryan Howard on the office during his cocaine addiction. yes Martha you’re skinny but it’s LITERALLY the diet of Vodka and Klonopin.

tl;dr yeah, poor people are often fatter and rich people are often skinny but it has nothing to do with a personality defect in poor people lacking self control and has everything to do with lack of access to resources for a healthy lifestyle. this is to say nothing about how this all contributes to a shorter life expectancy for poor people.

[gyllousos]

Warnings: Depression, masochists, language.

Copyright @ gyllousos 2021. All rights reserved.

Dedicated to @the-grimm-writer

_________________________________________

Hannya despised hospitals. She hated the smell of disinfectant, the plain white walls decorated with awareness for the human body, as well as the chairs in the waiting room. Not that the one she was sitting in was uncomfortable, yet her ass felt like a pin cushion since she'd been in the thing for well over an hour and counting. Just ten minutes ago she had gone to the vending machine for a soda, downing the Sprite in one gulp.

She was still staring into the empty soda can as though it would refill with more of the carbonated beverage. Her thumb pressed into the side, crinkling the corner. Above her a TV played an old show, something about two children using their imagination to escape into a new world.

One where they forgot about all the bad stuff, even for a moment, a paradise for two. A haven. Thinking about that made a lump swell in Hannya's throat. She set her can onto a nearby table, curling her hands into her lap. A nail dug into the fabric of her leggings, she winced at the bruise there. It was still throbbing a week later, still sore. Her back arched from the cut diagonal cut, also a week old, but it didn't pulse like the thigh bruise did.

Her old cuts and bruises hurt most days, even though half of them were healed for weeks, despite their ugliness in the beginnings. She used to never recognize herself in the mirror after they fucked. Not screwed, but fucked until she lay beneath him unable to move, a quivering mess of orgasm.

God. She was truly sick.

She inhaled slowly through her nose. Hannya refused to cry in this place. One of the nurses had been looking at her so often, a pitying look in her eyes. Hannya avoided eye contact.

She knew that nurse too well, she'd nearly made a home here. But that was long ago. And the nurse, a petite brunette with gentle doe eyes was always so kind to her.

Vague flashes of Hannya in a room where she was monitored, wearing a gown, and counting the hours on the clock to her meds. No, she wasn't going down memory lane again.

What if she broke again? But not because of him.

Dabi.

ㅤHe twisted the fabric of her shirt, bunching tightly. There were tearing sounds. Fraying sounds. Dragging her to within inches of his leering, predatory smile.

ㅤHer shirt came away in a ribbon, leaving her in unkempt, scant rags. He sneered, pinching a nipple as her pert little breasts jiggled free. Dabi tweaked the nipple, and swatted her breast with an open-palmed slap.

Hannya let out a cry between a gasp and a moan.

Dabi clenched his fist around her throat, thrust his arm so she was pinned to the wall behind her. One hand constricted the air from her lungs, while the other twisted cruelly on the same nipple from before.

"Scared yet?"

"No."

ㅤㅤ"No need to lie."

ㅤHis other hand slipped low, her breast freed from his cruel touch only for his hot breath to caress it. Dabi sank teeth into her its supple flesh, snakelike tongue uncoiled to writhe slick against the nipple. His loose fingers delved between her thighs, groping a handful of her warm, tender sex.

ㅤHe didn’t need her to black out from the choking, but it was designed so that every throb of pleasure he squeezed into her body lightened her head. A cruel, sadistic practice to strangle every last drop of ecstasy, to send her spirit into heaven but her body to hell.

Dabi's fingers were long and defined, two sunken deep into the supple heat of her cunt. His pace, merciless. The villain ground the heel of his wrist firmly against her clit, assaulting every inch. He worked in and out of her with aggressive vigor, stirring up loud, sloppy noises from her.

She felt him adjust, she bit her lip from the harsh penetration when he slammed himself into her, those haunting blue eyes never leaving her face.

"You're mine, Hannya."

"I'm yours."

"If another man looks at you the way I look at you, or even thinks about fucking you, I'll split his goddamn skull."

Hannya snapped back to reality at the alert of her name being called. She remembered now that she had been called into the exam room for tests. The gown felt paper thin on her, exposing her to the nurse who held her clipboard in hand.

She hadn't commented on the palm bruise on her thigh or the cut on her back. Hannya was almost relieved her skin was back to semi-normal. It had been a long time since she last been here. How long ago?

Three years since her last attempt.

"You're doing well Hannya, much better since your last visit with us. You've been keeping up with all of your appointments, last time you were hear you had bad anemia and an infection. You bounced back like a champ. "

Hannya smiled faintly. The plump old woman reminded her of a doting grandma.

"Your appetite back to normal?"

"Yes ma'm. Everything is good."

She tried best to hide the clip in her speech.

"Now that we're following up, I'd like to wait for the rest of your test results to come in."

Hannya hid her impatience, wishing time would go forward, she could grab her things and leave. Back to her home where she could close off the world. Block everyone out. Would Dabi be waiting for her? For once, she didn't want to see him. As much as their sadistic games were fun time both of them, she just didn't have the desire. No other man could get her off the way Dabi did.

Lately, she dreaded seeing him propped in her couch, or getting a text from him. She could damn near feel him without him being near. A moment later, when the same woman poked her head in, Hannya actually beamed.

The door closed behind her.

That's when Hannya left the hospital in a daze, barely clutching her phone and purse, she didn't even know she drove home until she parked in the driveway. Turning off the engine, she sat in stunned silence, her knuckles tight onto the steering wheel.

God, she just wanted to turn back time to the last month, the last year, erase everything. She was numb enough as is and she hoped Dabi wasn't waiting on her. She just couldn't take it right now.

“No,” she said, barely audible. The nurse's words echoing in her ears once more.

A sob escaped her. She dragged herself out of her vehicle, barely registering her feet moving towards her home, inside of her apartment. She locked the door behind her. And didn't have to look around to see a tall man with spiked dark hair and a smile that gave her goosebumps.

"Dabi..."

"Miss me?"

Her legs felt like jelly. Her heart was being so fast she feared it rip itself through her chest. Hannya's knees shook, and her heart hammered in my chest. She felt like she was already walled in, and she didn’t even know it.

“I wish I’d never met you,” she said, almost whispering.

He stopped, his boots creaking the wooden floor under him. “Believe me, girl, the feeling is fucking mutual.”

No arguments, no shouting, no cursing even though she wanted to spew a blue streak at him. Eventually she fell onto her knees, the metallic clink of a belt and a zipper being pulled down; she parted her lips for Dabi's cock already slick with precum. She swallowed him into the back of her throat.

"Good girl," he praised her, stroking the back of her head.

___________________________________________

Hannya hadn't seen Dabi since that day, what felt like over a month had turned into sixteen months. As much as she didn't care, she ached for him, and not in the sexual sense. She truly yearned for his company if she could actually believe it. Just what happened to him after that?

No texts, no calls. No sudden appearing without warning. Poof! He never told her he was leaving. Then again he never told her a lot of anything. Hannya often dreamt of him, as the little boy named Touya. The same boy who came crying to her in the catacombs and she to him. Two kids yearning for a place in the world.

She hadn't given up hope she'd see him again, if ever. Hannya swiped her fingers across her phone screen, tucking her device back into her pocket, her blue eyes swiveled up the moon, an ache swelling in her chest.

"I'm losing it..." She mumbled, proceeding to walk. She was patting her pockets for her car keys when a hand snaked its way around her forearm, dragging her into a brick corner, pinning her against a wall.

She couldn't scream because of the stranger's hand covering her mouth. Her eyes doubled in size, his sinister smirk making her skin flush.

Touya!

"Dabi." It came out as a muffle.

"Like you've seen a ghost," he sneered, letting her go.

"For a minute I thought I did..." She whispered.

His eyes raked over her outfit, eyes narrowing in on her chest. He sure knew how to make her vulnerable, naked without undressing her. So he hadn't left after all. Was he hiding from her?

He was never far to begin with. Something told her this wasn't a social visit, she needed to get home before she did something like kiss him. He'd take her right here in public. Wouldn't be the first time.

"I was looking for you, " she said.

"Is that a fact?" His voice was utterly emotionless. Not the least bit of warmth.

"I suppose I was looking for you, too. You made a big mistake Hannya."

The way he said it made Hannya scoot an inch from him.

"What are you talking about?" Hannya remained composed, furrowing her dark brows. Dabi only advanced.

"Telling lies, keeping secrets. It was all gonna come out eventually, you just should have been more careful."

"Dabi..." He chuckled, one hand stuffed in his jacket pocket.

"I...I meant to find you...I was looking for my family."

Dabi almost laughed, shaking his head slightly.

"You were looking for a family, huh? One could argue it's my family you’re looking for right? How are my baby boy and girl by the way? Got my eyes don't they?"

All the color drained from Hannya's face.

A glimpse into memory had her back in the exam room months ago.

"We ran more tests Hannya. Your bloodwork shows you’re also pregnant, a little over eight weeks along. Congratulations.”

Why couldn't the Earth just swallow her whole now? There's no way he could have known. No she wouldn't have told him right away, if at all. He wouldn't have been a great father. When she was told she was pregnant Hannya wanted to cry, scream, break something or even someone. The last thing she had ever wanted inflicted on her had happened, she was in such hysterics she nearly fainted.

Why couldn't it have been anyone but him? The raw cry she let out. She imagined life with two tiny humans, ones she could give unconditional love to. Innocent souls. Her twins. She knew she was going to keep them, her darling babies. How she tried to keep them from Dabi and now...

"You knew...how long..."

"Does it matter? You honestly didn't think you could hide them from me forever Hannya. You should know better than that." His voice was almost a taunt.

"Try keeping them away from me, if you so much as leave with them I'll burn everything down in my path, everyone, to get what I want."

It was like a slap in the face. He wouldn't? Right? No, he had no rights towards their children. Her children. As far as Hannya knew Dabi was just the sperm donor.

Hannya scowled.

Dabi smirked.

He was right, the twins got his eyes alright.

Still advancing, Dabi pinned Hannya to the rough brick wall, his nose level with hers. He didn't want to admit he missed his little devil. He had to resist the urge to to tear off her clothing and fuck her until she was begging him to stop. God, her scent. She couldn't have been more beautiful, plump lips, inviting breasts, fair skin he wanted to mark again.

"I'll be watching you and our children, doll. Who would have thought..."

He gripped her oncoming wrist from slapping him. Should he break it? No. Some other time. He released her, backing up to give her space, almost yearning for the closeness again. No more talk, he left quietly as he came. He heard the faint falling of Hannya on her knees, cursing him to hell and back.

[springsaladgaming]

Follower Milestone

Hey there, all! I recently passed 400 followers, so I thought it would be nice to gift you all some writing!

I had a particular short story that I wanted to gift when we got here, but I’m not entirely happy with it and want to rewrite it.

So, instead, I thought it would be fun to share the predecessor of Ninelives. For those of you who don’t already know, Ninelives was adapted from a short story that I wrote a decade ago for university. It is about a young man who is struggling with depression and, in a failed suicide attempt, learns a small thing about his parents that could potentially evolve into something explosive.

When I started writing this short story, I realized that I wanted to turn it into a novella. The main character would have met someone with a very Carpe Diem attitude and made the shift into a healthier headspace while dealing with his family problems. The overarching theme of the story was the way that little secrets add up. It was always my plan to go back to it once I was done with school, but then real life happened a little too hard (shitty job, pretty severe depression, and some family issues). I never touched it again.

My memory is pretty famously bad about certain things (due to I think ADHD and anxiety). But, of all the short stories that I wrote at uni, I remembered this one like the back of my hand. When I started writing Ninelives, I technically still didn’t touch the old story. I didn’t need to look back at it to remember the overall narrative. I just went at it. And then, a couple of weeks ago, I found the old external drive that I used to store all of my work on and dug up this short story once again.

I think you’ll find the similarities between this short story and Chapter 1 of Ninelives pretty quickly. Dad is kind of an asshole, Mom is pretty dismissive of the main character, and the brother seems to be the only one who cares. Ninelives is also carrying on the theme of secrets in a way. I was actually a little surprised by how similar the two still are, even though they are now different works with a decade of time between them.

This short story is a decade old, thus it hasn’t been edited or revised in the same amount of time, so read it with that in mind. Also, just to be on the safe side...

CONTENT WARNINGS: discussion of suicide, drug abuse/overdose, cigarette use, verbal abuse

And now, without further ado...

Jamie’s ass was beginning to stick to the porcelain tub, and it was getting to him.  As if that weren’t enough, the paper sign taped over his crotch created a pocket of hot air that made his dick stick to his leg. The sign read HOW’S THIS FOR AN EXIT, but Jamie wasn’t going anywhere, and that’s what bothered him most of all.  He’d downed his father’s bottle of blood pressure meds, but nothing was happening.  At least, nothing seemed to be happening, except that Jamie was now hot and sweaty.  He had no idea what ODing on blood pressure meds did, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t this.  He was even more sure that he wasn’t dying.

This would go down in history as the most anticlimactic suicide ever.

Ten minutes.  Twenty minutes.  Thirty.  An hour.  Jamie felt some discomfort—a little sick to his stomach, the porcelain pressing against his boney ass—that was it.  Now he was bored and naked, and someone would probably come looking for him soon.  Probably.

His brother, Graham, was the one who called up to him.  “Hey, Jammy,” he said.  “Dinner’s ready. Get down here.”

Jamie spent a good five minutes after that staring at the ceiling, which was covered in a layer of grime from years of shower steam.  Either that or the years during Jamie’s childhood when he’d come in here to smoke.  His parents had never looked for him here.  That hadn’t changed now that it was the spare bathroom instead of Graham and Jamie’s.

But Graham knew Jamie’s hiding spots and came looking for him.  Jamie heard Graham call for him in the hall for a few minutes, maybe less.  Then Graham knocked on the door.  “Jammers, dinner.  What are you doing in there?”

Jamie hadn’t locked the door.  That would have been too dramatic.  Now it was a mistake, and Graham walked in just as Jamie got out of the tub and crumpled up his suicide note.  The family always seemed to be catching Jamie with his pants down, just never quite so literally.

Graham didn’t seem surprised or the least bit embarrassed.  Jamie felt one of the two emotions, though he wasn’t sure which, and it wasn’t so much over his nakedness as it was the other circumstances.  Graham crossed his arms and said, “Taking a bath?”  He raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat.

“No, I wasn’t jacking off,” Jamie said.  “Just being here makes me limp.”  The fact that Jamie hated coming home wasn’t news to Graham.  Jamie thought that would be enough to end the conversation, but Graham’s eyes flashed to something behind him, and Jamie remembered he’d left the empty prescription bottle on the side of the tub.

“What were you doing, Jamie?” Graham asked.

Jamie grabbed the bottle and tossed it in the garbage along with his suicide note—or maybe it was better to call it his ex-suicide note.  It would be the only ex he’d ever had.  He grabbed a towel from the wall to cover himself and said, “Remind me to tell Dad that Mom’s been giving him placebos.”

“Jamie—”

“Gonna let me get dressed for dinner or what?” Jamie said.

Graham let Jamie pass but followed him down the hall to his old room.  Jamie packed clothes in his backpack instead of leaving some here like Graham did.  It took him a few seconds to get the shirt he was looking for.  He could feel Graham’s eyes on him.  He gave up on pulling out his nice pants and put on the jeans he’d worn earlier that day.  Graham was getting suspicious, Jamie knew.  But it didn’t matter why he was staring; it made Jamie self-conscious of just about everything under the sun.  He fumbled with the button on his pants for a good few minutes—almost broke the thing off—before he got it.  When he turned back to the door, Graham was still staring.

They made eye contact and Graham asked again.  “What were you doing?”

“Nothing,” Jamie said.  He tried to make his way downstairs, but Graham was blocking the door.  This time, he didn’t move.

“Jamie, you’re scaring me,” Graham said.

“Would it make you feel better if I said I knew they were placebos?”

“Did you?”

Jamie pushed his way past Graham.  Graham grabbed Jamie for a second and then let go, as if unsure what he was supposed to do once he had him.  Jamie didn’t have the answers either, wasn’t sure what he’d do if he their positions were reversed.  They would never be reversed, though.  Graham’s life was perfect; suicide wasn’t even an option for him.  He had no idea what it was like.  Maybe that’s why he was silent now.

Once they were seated around the dinner table, it was almost as if it never happened.  Their parents went on about their usual praise of Graham’s life, but not before ragging on Jamie about his.  “Dinner has been at seven sharp every Saturday for the last fifteen years,” Margery said.  “I don’t know why you can’t get that through your head.”

Jamie knew that.  That’s why he’d chosen the time he did.  “I lost track of time,” Jamie said.  He didn’t say more; they were going to tear him apart either way.

“It’s those work hours of his,” Hugh said.  “He has a different schedule every week.  If you’d get a real job, you wouldn’t have that problem.” Hugh didn’t look up from his plate as he cut his meat.  He always ate the meat first, but not before cutting it into perfect little cubes.

I have a real job, Jamie might’ve said, but they’d had this conversation before.  Hugh meant a salary job.  Flipping burgers didn’t count unless Jamie was making more than twenty an hour.

“Speaking of work,” Margery said, “How did your last settlement go, Graham?” Margery went for her veggies first.  She didn’t eat meat and only let Hugh at dinner, though Jamie suspected he snuck it during his lunch.

“It went well,” Graham said.  He’d barely touched his food, but Hugh looked up from his plate at that moment, and Graham dug in.

“You’re not usually so tight-lipped,” Hugh said.

Graham kept his eyes on his plate.  “It’s pretty easy to reach a settlement when the couple agrees on it before they even come to see me,” he said.

Graham was a divorce lawyer, carrying on the family tradition.  Sort of.  Their grandfather had been a judge and a prosecutor before that.  Hugh was also a prosecutor.  Graham’s decision to become a divorce lawyer had been met with a little resistance, but Hugh readily accepted it once Graham proved it made a lot of money.  Everyone’s getting divorced these days, Graham had said.  I’ll never be out of the job.

“That’s how prevalent your brother is, Jamie,” Hugh said.  “Divorcees go to see him even when they don’t need his help.”

Jamie kept his face in his plate and poked at his food with his fork.  What Hugh really meant was, “Why can’t you be successful like your brother?”  It was the same game every Saturday; that’s why Jamie hated coming here.  But it meant a free meal, even if Jamie had usually lost his appetite by the time he got it.  Besides, if he didn’t come, that would be just one more disappointment.

“Jamie will figure it out,” Graham said.  This was his way of taking Jamie’s side.  Usually.

“As soon as he figures how to pay his rent on time,” Hugh said.

Will you please stop talking about me like I’m not here, Jamie wanted to say.

“You’ve paid this month’s rent, I hope,” Hugh said.

“I paid it last month,” Jamie said.  He’d borrowed some money from Graham to do so with the promise of paying it back once he found a new roommate.  The last one packed up and left without a word.  Jamie's parents didn't know about the money, and he wasn't about to tell them now.

“You need to learn how to get ahead in all areas of your life, not just your bills,” Hugh said.

“Jamie,” Margery said, “get your chin off the table.”

Jamie felt like he was eleven again.

Jamie went outside for a smoke when dinner was over.  He didn’t smoke anymore, but he kept reserves for these occasions.  Few Saturdays passed without a cigarette.  He usually kept with the old ritual, smoked on the edge of the tub with the bathroom door closed and the window open.  After today, he avoided that bathroom., and not only because it embarrassed him.  Graham was like a hawk for the rest of the night.  He didn’t take his eyes off Jamie, even when they were cleaning the dishes.  He’d gone so far as to clean all the knives himself.  Jamie couldn’t lay a hand on them.

Graham was outside with Jamie, too, hovering over his shoulder like Hugh used to do when Jamie was a child.  “You still smoke,” Graham said.

“Only after I’m well-cooked by the parents,” Jamie said.

“Smoking will kill you, you know,” Graham said.  He shifted his stance.  “Why not just smoke two packs a day?”

“Because so far the only life goal I’ve met is not getting cancer.”

“We’re switching rooms tonight.”

“Why?”

Graham took Jamie’s cigarette and tossed it into the gravel.  “My room doesn’t have a lock,” Graham said.

“Oh, please,” Jamie said.  “I didn’t lock the bathroom door, did I?”

“Thank god for that.”

“What does it matter?” Jamie said.  “Dad will kill me when he finds that bottle in the trash anyway.”

“Let’s go inside,” Graham said.

“I didn’t get to finish my cigarette.”

“Inside, now,” Graham said.

Jamie didn’t have time to move before Graham corralled him inside with a hand on his shoulder.  When they came in, Margery was on the landing and Hugh was shouting at her from their bedroom.  To Margery, Jamie and Graham must have looked like two brothers who’d just shared a special moment.  It was some kind of special moment, but she didn’t pick up on the animosity and smiled down at them.

“What’s Dad shouting about?” Graham asked.

“He can’t find his medication,” Margery said.  “I’m sure he just misplaced it.  Wouldn’t be the first time.  I assume you two are leaving early tomorrow?”

Graham nodded.  “Actually, I’ve been talking to Jamie about moving in with him.”

“Oh?” Margery said.

Jamie echoed the oh so immediately that they almost said it at the same time.

“Yes,” Graham said.  His fingers dug in to Jamie’s shoulder.  “At least until he can find a new roommate.”

Margery smiled.  “Maybe you can help him get his life on track,” she said.

“Something like that,” Graham said, and he shook Jamie’s shoulder.

Graham was true to his word and made Jamie take his room.  He opened the doors wide and, instead of going to bed himself, sat and watched Jamie from across the hall.

“You have to drive in the morning,” Jamie said.

“You’ll drive,” Graham said.

“Not afraid I’ll crash the car?”

“No,” Graham said, “because then it would be a murder-suicide.”

“You’re not moving in with me,” Jamie said.

“Either I move in with you or I check you into a psyche ward on suicide watch.”

“The apartment is small.”

“Jamie, I lived in a smaller apartment through eight years of college,” Graham said.  “I’ll manage.”

“You’re really going to watch me sleep?” Jamie asked.

“Get used to it,” Graham said.  “From now on, I’ll have to watch you do a lot of things.”

In the morning, Graham was still watching.  The two of them drove back to Denver in Graham’s SUV, and Graham started moving some of his things into Jamie’s apartment later that day.

[nothisis-ridiculous]

Duplicity

An AU where Kaidan joins Cerberus for the events of ME2.

Chapter Nine: Of Explosions, Traps, and Thresher Maws

"Who did you blow to get access back?"

Mary looked up from the safety of the relatively stationary floor of the shuttle. This wasn't a day where the nausea meds worked to full effect, but she could suffer through a grin, "Illusive Man didn't appreciate Leng's interference with our mission."

"What a bosh'tet."

"You should still avoid him, if possible."

"Come on, Shep! Give me a reason to smear him against the cargo bay walls," Jack retorted with a smug grin.

Tali huffed, "I can take care of myself!"

Mary rubbed at her temples, focusing again on the grooves in the flooring, "we might be pushing it already."

"As I said," Jack sighed, "it's an empty facility. Since when did you give a fuck about what Cerberus thinks? Did you drink Cheerleader's kool-aid?"

"I jumped at the idea of blowing up this facility if my urgency was not noted," she retorted, "and only if it was cherry flavored. Unfortunately, it tastes like watered down orange."

"You're fucking weird."

"I'm sure someone likes orange flavoring."

"And they would be wrong, and besides, have you ever tasted orange?"

"That's beside the point, Shepard."

"Why is the bastard even here?" Jack interjected, becoming the voice of reason.

Mary puffed out her cheeks, "he was elusive about it. Leng mentioned something about a confidentiality breach. Tali, did you try and hack their systems?"

Tali shook her head, "if I did, they wouldn't have caught me."

Shepard grinned.

"Cerberus has the entire Normandy bugged, and not to mention that AI. I wouldn't do something like that without you knowing about it."

Mary nodded, "I thought so. If I wanted to get rid of those bugs, what would I need to do?"

Tali went silent.

"Way to ruin your plan," the biotic gently mocked.

"Who is Kai Leng to you?"

Jack leaned back in her seat with a growing scowl, "him and some Cerberus bitch tried to capture me. It didn't happen, but some mercs got me instead."

"That explains how you got to Purgatory," Mary murmured in response.

Jack shrugged, not interested in further explaining that particular defeat.

"Please be careful with him; even Miranda seemed spooked," she cautioned gently.

"Cerberus has really got you by the balls."

The blond flinched, "I'll have you know I ignored an urgent message from the Illusive Man to bring you here." It was a poor attempt at a deflection; everyone aboard the Normandy knew about her history with a certain crewmate. Worse was the presence of nearly every friend she had left in the galaxy. Most brought in by her. She had no doubts that the Collecter threat was overly sensationalized, but for the time being, it what her only option in stopping the threat. Anderson had seen the threat for himself, but whether or not he could help remained unknown partially because she was afraid of a formal admonishing.

"I forgot how much I hate this place."

~~~

"Shepard-- we caught a break."

Predictably, the break was a trap. Mary wasn't liking the new habit of trampling through her ship in armour fresh from a fight. Or how annoyingly composed the Illusive Man always was, even in her impromptu meeting, he was waiting with a cigarette and drink in hand. The bastard knew what he had done. Worse, he was ready for her to explode.

"In the meantime... I suggest you tell your crew I didn't risk their lives unnecessarily," whether or not the microscopic curl of his lip was imagined in the end, "it would make things easier going forward."

"I'll tell them the truth, screw this half-truth bullshit," Mary leaned back on her heel, folding her arms.

"Our reports missed the petulant child side of you," he took a long drag, flicking away the butt, "can't you see this was necessary."

"Not in the way you handled it."

His pupils narrowed as he stared at her, mouth kept in a thin line. Boldened by this slip, Mary pushed it, "you'll be lucky to have my crew after this."

"Who, exactly, is going to help you? The council already dismissed you once. The Alliance doesn't care about the humans in the Terminus Systems," his posture and blank expression returned, "unless you don't care about the abducted colonies and the Reaper threat anymore."

"Fuck you!"

He issued a long and drawn-out chuckle, "I expected better behavior from you, Shepard. Be an adult, and put aside your petty grievances. You need me to stop this threat."

The coldness pierced her heart first, spreading through her veins with incredible speed until it froze the tip of her fingers. The frigidity of her body forcing her face in a neutral expression, "Akuze was no petty grievance, you conniving prick."

She couldn't lose much more face, so stomping off without a pause was well within her wheelhouse.

"Mary?"

Kaidan knew that look, not that he had to be blocking her way to read it. The emotionless mask was there for only a select few emotions, and all urged him to reach out. Whatever it was, at least meant he wouldn't have to explain why he hovered around the briefing room. He stood his ground, allowing her the time to breathe before he attempted to pry it out of her. Eventually, her shoulders dropped for the briefest moment before squaring back up.

"Talk to me," Kaidan murmured gently, "what happened out there?"

Shepard's posture had corrected, but the mask had yet to fall. Moving him into unfamiliar territory, so he waited for her to speak. Timidly, slowly, placing his hand on her pauldron once the time elapsed into the space of no response.

"Shepard," he called.

First, her body lurched forward, he instinctively moved to pull her in, but the arm that reached around him corrected course and shoved him aside. Perhaps a little harshly, as his back met the metal wall of the hallway. Finally, the mask slipped, catching the moment her eyes filled with regret that morphed with the half-assed raising of her arms, "it was a trap."

Mary spun away to the right, sputtering another few choice words as Mordin collided with her across the opening doorway.

"Go get Grunt ready; we're headed to Tuchanka."

~~~

"You've had a lot more poker practice, Alenko," the turian mused in defeat.

"Back then, I was never invited," the biotic returned snidely.

"Only because Shepard took you everywhere," Tali added wistfully, "you were both so moony-eyed."

"Is that your excuse for always losing, Vakarian?" Kaidan grinned, fighting a bittersweet blush, "careful Tali, you'll start slipping."

"You were all formally crewmates?" Thane finally decided to speak from his corner of the mess hall table. His gaze lingered longer on the human. The other two were obviously connected to Shepard. His short time aboard the Normandy, he hardly saw the Commander and this man in the same room.

The human's next smile a little less forced, "yeah. With Joker at the helm. Those were crazy days."

"Much simpler times, just chasing a rogue spectre across the galaxy."

Tali hummed, "it felt more heroic back then."

"To hell with Cerberus," the man muttered.

Thane stood from his seat, this talk of the past making him feel further like a stranger in this group. Why Officer Alenko had invited him in the first place was a mystery, he hadn't attempted to speak with anyone. Not out of malice but out of desire. Shepard's words about him socializing with the crew to find meaning the sole reason he attempted this game.

The three looked up at him in unison.

"We can change the game."

"You can just stay and talk if you want."

"Look at you guys scaring away the new blood."

Thane glanced between the group; they were a good sort. He shrugged in an effort not to disappoint them, returning to his seat; he had little else of import to do.

"How about a game of go fish?"

The turian turned to the man, "isn't that a children's game?"

"I thought keeping your credits would be an enticing offer," Kaidan returned smugly.

"I already owe you a small fortune when you do decide to collect," the turian drawled, "might not be wise to encourage you to do so."

"I'm banking on interest too, Garrus."

"You would," Garrus chuckled, his eyes sweeping to the quarian, "but Tali, I've always wondered why your faceplate is tinted. Doesn't that distort your vision?"

"Garrus my e-"

Grunt barrelled by the table, taking the L2's attention with him. Adding biotics to the already large Krogan only increased his appetite, especially after a fight. The youngster looked pleased, settling down at the table with whatever was easiest to sweep into his arms—tearing into the still bagged loaf of bread sideways, the group watching with mixed reactions.

"Grunt," Tali was the first to scold, "you should be a little more careful."

"He's just a growing boy, Tali," Garrus replied.

The krogan looked up and around the table with a sheepish grin, "I am a boy no longer. I have passed the rite, and with my battle master, have defeated a thresher maw! You should be in awe!"

"That's no small feat-" Thane finding himself suddenly the chatty one.

"It was glorious! A worthy opponent. So big and in your face," Grunt continued to gloat through mouthfuls of bread and plastic.

"And Shepard?" the man dared to ask.

"The best battle master. Our enemies should be afraid!"

"Was she upset?" Tali pressed.

"No- she fought bravely."

Garrus was next to speak, "nothing odd?"

The krogan groaned, "she fought well. So well, she was too tired to speak."

Kaidan shuffled from his chair, hesitating as the turian and quarian took turns locking eyes with him, "am I supposed to sit here and do nothing?"

"I wouldn't test her patience."

Tali folded her arms, "what could you even do? Guilt trip her again?"

"Ouch," Kaidan flinched, running a hand through his hair, "I deserved that one."

Grunt looked around the table, cocking his head to the side. Thane went still, achieving a far better understanding of the situation than the confused krogan. Until Miranda, followed by Kai Leng burst from the second officer's office, both beelined for the elevator. Garrus, Tali, and Kaidan moved to intercept the pair.

"Out of our way," the Cerberus assassin seethed.

"Do you have a death wish?" Garrus tried to defuse him with humor and a well-intentioned claw on his shoulder. It did not work; the man's eyes only narrowed the anger held in his posture, doubling.

"Keep your dirty talons off of me, bird!"

Tali pulled Garrus back, allowing Kaidan to get in the way.

"That wasn't necessary," the biotic stated bluntly.

Leng rolled his eyes, "and neither is whatever fit Shepard is having in the elevator."

"So you're going to make it worse by demanding she stop?"

"Kaidan, we can't let her damage the ship," Miranda added gently.

"Yeah, I know," Kaidan sighed, rubbing at his temples, "but she won't. I don't think she will, anyway. It's her way of coping."

"By letting off biotic charges?"

"Yeah, I know, but has she damaged anything?"

EDI piqued up, "damage remains cosmetic."

Miranda placed her hands on her hips, "well, this is why we hired you, Alenko. Make her stop, or we'll be forced to act."

"Next time, a little warning after she's faced a Maw would help."

~~~

Riding through the elevator of the Normandy was an old pastime. Something about being crammed into a small space with blank walls let her think. About the good, about the bad, about anything that needed her consideration, really. She had spent hours in the old elevator; they moved much too quickly in the new ship. With more floors and staff came more distractions.

Usually, it involved much less biotic discharge, but this time that display kept the peace. The strain to keep it contained and from flaring too brightly occupied her mind pushed out the thing... the creature... that kept trying to wedge back in her mental space. Pulling it all back in, only characterized by a faint aura around her form, was another challenge. She kept her back to the person.

Ignoring it until the crinkling of a bag pulled her attention.

The opened bag revealing the light reddish-brown contents within, "I thought you might be hungry."

She looked Kaidan up and down, resting on his gentle gaze. Why was she so stubborn? Was he really so different? Did who he worked for matter? She couldn't pretend that all she saw of Cerberus was bad. She trusted Jacob- he had many of the same qualms she did about the organization but continued under their banner without compromising his morals. Her work was good fighting to protect the galaxy from the Reaper threat. Sure at the moment, it felt solely based on saving humans from the Collector threat, but they were only a tiny piece of the problem. She saw no shift in Kaidan, despite the things he had done after she passed. The same integrity, the same aggravating calm, the same compassion.

Perhaps she was unfair. What would she do to bring back the man she loved?

Huh, love was a funny feeling—a light but at the same time heavy notion.

Fuck this.

Fuck the forced distance.

If they were going to die, why waste what could be their last moments together?

"Kaidan."

Pushing the chips aside, she wriggled her way into his arms. A hand threaded through her still damp hair, his nose pressing into the top of her skull. The other arm supported the small of her back, cradling her in gently. Mary breathed in his familiar scent, no different than the man she knew two years ago. It was this easy. Some, but not all, of her worries faded into the background. She had missed physical comfort.

"Wrex was there," it was all she could offer.

Kaidan's chest rumbled, the patch pressed against her forehead an unwelcomed annoyance. A reminder. Hot and blinding, the logo was all she could focus on as it rubbed against her.

Maybe she was weak, but she could not separate the horror from the uniform.

He let her escape without a fuss, leaving him empty-handed.

[lykegenia]

Nate x f!detective

--

I barely have time to draw breath before three figures stumble to a halt in the broken doorway, the rest of Unit Bravo drawn clearly from other parts of the warehouse, their postures tense and alert for danger.

Adam steps forward first, his gaze sweeping in a calculated arc over the room. “What happened?”

“We smelled –”

“Someone needs to go and check on Nate,” I interrupt.

There’s a heartbeat’s pause where confusion reigns. Mason is the first to respond, swiping the unlit cigarette from between his teeth with a muttered curse as he whirls away out of sight. It leaves only Adam and Felix to stare at me, and both keep their distance, the frown on the commanding agent’s face sharp enough to cut glass.

“Detective?” he asks.

“It was an accident,” I explain, swallowing. “I cut myself, just my finger.”

“You ought to have paid more attention –”

“Jesus Christ, Adam, this is not the time.” I twist around to face him properly, hand aching under the stream of cold water, and once more the rational part of my brain steps aside to marvel at the ease with which I take control of the situation. As if this is just another crime scene, as if my heart isn’t thundering in my ears lie Niargra Falls. “I need you to switch off the oven and fetch me a med kit.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Felix asks from even further away, golden eyes hopeful.

I force a smile to my face. “I’m fine, really. But thank you.”

Adam returns from the far corner of the room a moment later and sets down the first aid kit and a roll of kitchen paper at my elbow.

“We’ll leave you to it,” he says with a terse nod.

“Thanks.”

“There is blood on your sleeve,” he adds. “You should soak it as soon as you can.”

He turns away as I twist my arm trying to catch sight of the supposed bloodstain, not daring to take my hand from under the tap until the two vampires have left the room. When I eventually hold the lacerated finger up for inspection I sigh at the look of the wound. The cold has turned the whole digit bloodless, and while the cut itself is pretty deep the sharpness of the knife worked in my favour and it shouldn’t need stitches.

I pat it dry with a few squares of paper towel, careful to avoid splitting it open again, then rummage one-handed in the first aid kit for the antiseptic and a box of plasters. The sting of the concentrated alcohol draws a hiss from me as I pour it over the wound, but the whole process of cleaning and wrapping up the finger is over in less than a minute, with only the clinical smell left hanging in the air. After a moment of consideration, I fish an extra plaster out of the box and add it to the first so it stays extra secure.

That done, my attention can finally turn to the mess of dinner abandoned on the other side of the kitchen. The tray of vegetables I pull from the oven is still half-raw, the potatoes overboiled and almost mush after I drain away the water from the pan. I make sure there’s no blood on the duck breasts before wrapping them back in their brown paper to go back in the fridge. I wash the knife, and I wash the chopping board, as well as I can one-handed. For the rest, it takes me a long poke about in the cupboards – because of course Nate doesn’t own any Tupperware – before I can transfer everything into containers. Most of it probably won’t taste all that good if it has to be cooked again, but making the choice to throw it away without Nate’s input feels… wrong. Even if what I really want is to throw the whole lot at the walls.  

Either way, my appetite is completely gone. In its place, a sick feeling worms through my stomach, part worry for him and part relief that what happened wasn’t worse. The look in his eyes keeps surfacing, drawing me back, distracting me to the point where I realise the CD of overtures finished playing ages ago, unnoticed. Now that I hear it, the silence presses on me like a stone.

I leave the washing up in the sink.

No one stops me in the labyrinthine passages to my room. The silence follows and grows larger as I strip out of my jumper and toss it into the bathroom before pulling a new one from the drawer. The stain on the sleeve is only small and should come out easily enough once I soak it, but I’ll have to take it back to my apartment to wash it properly. At least the blood soaked into the fabric instead of dripping onto Nate’s hand. His reaction was bad enough already.

Once thoughts of him break through, there’s no stopping the flood. A glance around the bedroom shows just how much empty space there is, and I shiver. The wash of loneliness threatening to swallow me is one that wouldn’t have bothered me before Unit Bravo came into my life, before I got used to the comfort Nate provides just with his presence. Right about now I should be enjoying an intimate dinner and quiet conversation, his warmth at my side after the week of paperwork that’s kept us apart. Instead, there’s just me, and the hollow sound of my breath. Hard to believe I ever thought that was enough.

A text comes through from Felix as I dry my hands.

              You ok? Nate wanted you know if you’re ok too

              I’m fine  ☺️ Where is he?

              In his room, he’s pretty shaken

              I’m going to go talk to him

He starts typing a reply, but I don’t wait for it. The path to Nate’s room is so familiar I could walk it in my sleep – and nearly have, more than once, creeping from my own bed in the middle of the night with only a little guilt that I might be interrupting his own rest. Getting used to another body was difficult at first, but sleeping with someone else next to me, at least when it’s him, feels better than I ever thought it would, even if Mason keeps teasing that we’re not making the most of the situation.

I swallow as I knock on his door. “Nate?”

There’s no answer. Despite the bubble of disappointment in my chest, I wasn’t really expecting one.

“I wanted to see if you were alright.” Though my ears strain in the quiet hallway, I can’t hear any sign of movement. I sigh. “Look, you don’t have to come out, or say anything. I guess if you’re not listening it’s not like there’s anyone else here to listen to me talking to a door like a crazy person either.”

The attempt at humour falls apart, and a deep breath pulls through my teeth to keep the prickle of heat in my eyes at bay.

“I’m alright, Nate. It wasn’t your fault, just an accident. Please don’t guilt yourself about it too much – I know you’ll try to. I’m…” I falter, my thumb running over my plastered finger. “I’m going to go home. I’ve got laundry to do and an early start in the morning, and it’s probably better if I go.”

Tension is running through the halls like a vibration, all the vampires kicked up by the unexpected smell of blood even if they don’t want to admit it, and I don’t want them to see how unsettled it’s made me in turn. The nightmares of Murphy have faded over the past few months, but I can feel them crawling in the black mud of my subconscious, waiting to surface, and I don’t want to be near Nate when they do. I’ve handled them well enough on my own in the past.

There’s still no sound from Nate’s room that my pathetic human ears can pick up.

“If you need anything, call me,” I say, with a last moment of hesitation before I turn away.

There’s not much to pack. I’ve got a permanent drawer here now, and a second toothbrush so I don’t need to remember it back and forth. I’m ready to go in minutes. In one movement I pluck my car keys from the bowl by the door and flick off the light, and I don’t look back.

[glenncoco4]

Doctors and Detectives Part 2

Thursday

Katie opens the door without peaking, knowing exactly who's on the other side. As the brunette slowly appears, she looks a bit frazzled as if she was in a hurry to get here. "Hey, I was beginning to think you weren't gonna show."

Kensi steps into the foyer, finally able to catch her breath for the first time today. "Yeah, sorry about that, we were slammed today."

As the two women walk down the hall towards the kitchen, Kensi catches a glimpse of the shaggy blonde that she met the other day, noticing he looks a bit frazzled himself as he mixes a drink.

The nurse can't help the small smile from rising to her lips as she watches her husband's partner perform the task, his brow furrowed in concentration. "He's been remaking your mojito over and over again."

"Why?"

"He said he wants to get it perfect." The redhead turns towards her friend with knowing smile as she watches the blush slowly creep up the doctor's neck towards her cheeks. Oh this is gonna be good.

XXXX

Dinner had been amazing and as usual Kensi didn't let her hearty appetite suffer because of Deeks' appearance at dinner. As they finished up dessert, Katie brought out Pictionary in hopes to get the doctor and detective to loosen up a bit and let their guards down.

A few hours and some choice words later...

As the last bit of sand slowly trickles down, Kensi and Deeks eye the other pair, who are stalled when it comes to the last answer...the winning answer. Both Jake and Katie look at each other as they continue to talk it out but just as the answer comes to them the last grain of sand falls into the lower chamber signaling their defeat.

The doctor and detective both stand, exchanging double high fives victoriously. "Yes! D squared is victorious!"

"Champions of the world!"

After their laughter dies down and Jake and Katie admit defeat, Deeks takes a look at his watch stunned at how late it actually is. "Alright, guys, I better head out. The waves are suppose to be great in the morning."

The doctor shares a look with him, almost sad that the night is coming to an end. "Yeah, I better go too. I'm beat."

Making their way towards the front door, Kensi and Deeks step out onto the small porch and briefly exchange hugs with their friends. As they say their last goodbyes, the doctor and detective walk down the driveway, both noticing the other's slightly slower strides.

Once they reach his truck, he pauses, nervously running his fingers through his golden locks as he works up the courage to look at her beautiful mismatched eyes again. "Hey, so uh-would uh...you wanna go for a walk or grab some ice cream?"

She looks at him curiously, trying to not put too much thought into his actions tonight. "I thought you needed to whip out your sex wax and prep for tomorrow morning?"

"Nah, I just said that because that's my go to excuse to leave."

There's a beat of silence as a look of contemplation crosses her face before she nods with a smile, making his heart flutter.

"Okay, I could go for some ice cream.

"I know just the place."

XXXX

The red Dodge pulls into the retro parking area, neon glow illuminating the darkness around them. There are young teens on skates as they carry food out to other cars that are enjoying the atmosphere. High school kids hanging out, a few families along with a few couples.

Kensi takes in the environment as a whole, loving the vibe and surprised by this hidden gem right in the center of her city. "Wow, this place is amazing."

Deeks smiles, mentally giving himself a high five, as he shifts the truck's gear into park. "I thought you might like it."

They both roll down their windows, enjoying the brisk summer air before one of the car hops skates up to Deeks' side of the vehicle.

"Hi, welcome to Charlie's. What can I get you?'

"Can we get a chocolate malt with extra whipped cream, Rocky Road milkshake with extra whipped cream and an order of chili cheese fries?"

"Sure thing. That'll be 10 dollars even."

The detective pulls out his wallet, handing the young girl a twenty. "Keep the change."

"Thank you, sir." The young blonde quickly skates off with a smile on her face.

He places his wallet back into his pocket all the while feeling her eyes on him. Maneuvering himself, Deeks turns his body so now that he's facing her, and once his eyes lock with her's again he realizes he finally has the opportunity to know more about her. "So have you always worked at Cedars?"

"No, actually right out of med school I decided to up and go to Africa and work with Doctors without Borders."

"Wow. That's...wow." If he wasn't left in awe over her before he most definitely is now.

"It was one of the best experiences of my life. Everything was so slow over there, I could catch my breath and just enjoy life while helping others." The doctor shakes her head, smiling as she thinks back to the dance challenges she would have with the local tribe kids every evening before sun down. There's a part of her that misses that life, back when things were simpler and the people she was around were actually genuine, not that the people in her life now aren't, it was just...different.

He notices the glimmer of yearning in her features and he can't help but wonder. "So why'd you decide to come back to LA?"

"Honestly, I was tired of moving around all the time. I wanted to put down some roots. Maybe start a family some day."

There's something in her eyes, he's not sure how to read. Loss maybe?

"So what about you?"

"What about me?" His brow furrows, caught off guard at how quickly she turned the tables, clearly not wanting to talk about herself anymore.

"What made you decide to become a cop?"

He can feel his body tense, more so about his answer than her question. His thumb rubs back and forth across the skin of his wrist, a coping mechanism that he's become used to any time his past is brought up. "My home life wasn't the best. Dad was a drunk...he uh-he beat me and my mom pretty good." Taking a deep breath he looks up at her, cerulean blues locking with mismatched chocolate orbs full of sadness and understanding, and immediately feels a calmness wash over him. "She tried her best to protect me from it and take the brunt of it all. It wasn't until a few years later that I finally realized that it was never gonna end. So late after school one day my friend Ray gave me his dad's gun for protection. I was so worried that I wouldn't have a place to hide it but it turns out I didn't need one because I used it that night. The cops came and the last time I saw my dad, he was laying in a pool of his own blood."

Her heart breaks as she watches the tears roll down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry. I kinda got carried away." He sniffles, wiping away his tears, almost afraid to look back up at her with what he can assume would be pity in her eyes.

A sad smile crosses her face before her hand finds his, knowing just how vulnerable you can feel when talking about your past. "Hey, I'm glad you told me."

There's a beat of silence as the pair gather themselves both reviling in the comfortableness of the moment.

"Do you want to have a family some day?"

The sadness that was in his eyes just a few minutes ago is now replaced by a spark along with a smirk playing at his lips as he looks up at her. "Why, Dr. Blye, are you asking for my hand in marriage?"

She shakes her head and playfully swatting his shoulder, trying to play off the spark of electricity that jolts through her body at the implication.

"Yeah, I think if I find the right woman I'd like to settle down and have a few kids, but it's hard you know? Having the job I do and making time for someone else."

"I know exactly what you mean. I've had like 5 dates since I moved back to the states and that was four years ago."

"Wow. Now that's a crime."

"Am I supposed to be flattered?"

"Yes. Maybe? I don't know. You're-uh, look! Ice cream's here!" He quickly diverts the conversation as their car hop rolls up to the side of the truck once again, this time with a tray full of food.

There's a brief moment of silence yet again as the pair enjoy the first taste of their sweet cold desserts, sneaking a glance at the other as they do.

As she pulls her lips away from the straw, the brunette lets out a small laugh at the unaware detective who has a smudge of whipped cream on his lip. Before she realizes what she's doing her thumb finds the corner of his mouth, wiping away the remnants of the white foam.

The smile that was playing at his lips immediately shifts to shock as he's left completely stunned at her touch.

"You had some whipped cream."

He notices the blush rise to her cheeks and feels his heart rate pick up speed but its her next actions that leave him completely caught off guard.

She leans over the console, feeling a magnetic pull towards him as her lips find his. The moan that escapes her mouth is brought on by the feel of his hand finding her jaw and his fingers massaging the back of her neck.

When air becomes scarce the pair reluctantly pulls back from each other, both trying to catch their breaths. "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

All she can do is smile.

[brooklynislandgirl]

For the headcanon{s}, can you talk about Beth's mental illness? How it does and does not impact her daily life, if things trigger it, how she handled this after losing Riley {in verses that are sans Riley, obviously}, and what some of her experiences have been? I feel like it's something people determinedly overlook about her, and I'd like to know!

This.

“You can’t be fuckin’ serious!”

“You keep a civil tongue in that head of yours, boy. I think I know what’s best for your sister.”

“With all due respect, sir... you haven’t known what’s best in-”

Beth is an oyster.

Vague lines and curves that are nothing remarkable perhaps to the point of being unappealing. She can only burrow into the Sand....sandy...Andy. Andy and the Admiral are outside of the room, arguing about the proper course of treatment. She can’t hear every word because she’s underwater and all the sounds are so far away as to be indistinct from the beeping of the monitor that is keeping track of her vital signs. The bandages on her pseudo-pods ~arms, they’re arms, Beth~ are too heavy. They keep her trapped to this bed where she can’t really move and she doesn’t know why. It’s all wriggling around inside of her. A parasite. One she has to wrap in smooth layers of aragonite and conchiolin. Layer after microscopic crystalline layer. Maybe if it’s smooth enough and round enough, maybe if it has enough lustre, then they will set her free. She’s so very tired but she doesn’t have her turtle, and the thin cotton gown isn’t warm enough, worn thin in places. The blankets are too scratchy and the air smells funny, too many chemicals that it’s making her feel nauseous.

But that’s all wrong. Oysters don’t have blankets and they aren’t tied down to beds and they don’t... they don’t...

“Electroshock! How can you? Look at her. She’s just a kid!”

“And your sister nearly killed herself tonight, Andrew. I am done discussing this with you. I’m your father, and a neurosurgeon. If anyone is capable of choosing a treatment plan, it isn’t a teen age boy.”

~*~

Beth was fourteen years old when she was diagnosed however wrongly with Depression mood disorder with features of psychosis, after she smashed her bedroom mirror with her fists, deeply slashing her arms from wrists to elbows. The symptoms leading up to this moment certainly were red-flags for what was wrong with her, all of them classic to the specific diagnosis: the trouble concentrating or making decisions, chronic fatigue, feelings of guilt and worthlessness, insomnia, restlessness, loss of appetite, phantom aches and pains that didn’t seem to go away, persistent sadness and anxiety. It isn’t uncommon for girls and young women diagnosed with Turner Syndrome to also develop depression. And her father felt the matter was cut and dry, despite strenuous objections from her brother.

She spent three miserable weeks in an in-patient psychiatric facility receiving less than pleasant electroconvulsive therapy, psychotherapy and was prescribed citalopram {Celexa}. Which made Beth absolutely nauseous to the point that she had trouble keeping water down, only worsened her sleeping troubles, and made her jittery. As soon as the Admiral shipped out again for a year long deployment aboard the USNS Comfort, Andy took her back to the doctor to get a second opinion.

It was then, at fifteen, that she was re-diagnosed correctly with Rapid Cycling Bi-Polar Disorder. Andy nursed her through the withdrawal of the citalopram and taking over her care regiment seemed to do his sister wonders, as she started to be the sweet and gentle girl he’d always known her to be. He’d sort out her medication by days of the week, would make sure she took the right ones at the right times with her meals, going out of his way to cook things she could stomach, letting her sleep in his bed when she wanted to, and for years after, she seemed to improve. She went months without crippling depression and her manic and hypomanic states were few and far between as well.

Then everything changed.

Beth was accepted into several universities and chose Columbia, knowing that their pre-med program was top-notch and their medical school was even better, and wouldn’t require her to change schools for the duration of her education. Having just turned sixteen in June she was starting a new life perhaps far younger than she ought to have.

There was major upheaval, stress and abject terror at leaving Hawai’i behind, going almost as far away as possible. She was not prepared for the cross-continent move. Neither was she prepared for living on her own. Perhaps she simply expected to live with Andy the whole of her life, or at the very least through her under-grad years. But after the initial first two months that it took to move into their grandparents’ apartment in Brooklyn, and Andy setting up all of her bills, hiring a cook and house keeper, making sure she got settled in as a freshman, he enlisted in the US Air-Force. She saw very little of her brother for the next two years, and the only thing that kept Beth from failing out of school was the idea that she would be sent home to live with the Admiral.

She began to notice that her medication {bupropion aka Wellbutrin} seemed less effective during this time. She was barely getting more than three hours of sleep at night, and maybe half that during day time naps. She experiences bouts of nausea that once again made eating difficult to prioritise, a feature that would last her entire life thus far, with Beth being at least twenty pounds consistently underweight. She also began to experience chronic sore throats, what she describes as her bladder shrinking down to the size of a pea, and worse...tinnitus that became co-morbid with her audio processing disorder. 

The few times during the year that she was able to see Andy, things seemed to get better....until she crashed immediately after he left again.

Beth decided she no longer wanted to take her medication.

~*~

“C’mon Beth, I’m getting married, it’s not like I’m dying!”

“GET OUT! GETOUTGETOUTGETOUT!” She’s throwing things at him. She’s destroyed seven plates,six coffee mugs and at least one irreplaceable vase. There are so many tears, so much snot, it’s hard to believe his sister is almost eighteen and not eight. But thankfully, she’s still so short she can’t reach the stemware and is forced to come out from behind the island kitchen.

Which means he manages to get his arms around her, a bear hug from behind that locks her stick-figure arms to her chest. She fusses and has a fit, kicking and trying to bite him, but his training in Pararescue has taught him how to hold someone without hurting them.

“I’m not gonna leave you, jelly bean, I promise. And you’ll like Lana. She’s a real nice girl, her family’s from Jersey, and she’ll be moving in with us. You won’t have to-” “LA LA LA! NO CAN HEAR YOU!”

Beth is a hermit crab.

She can just shrink back into her shell and keep everyone out. She can hide down in the bottom of the sea and let the water of her Mother’s arms wash over her and if anything gets close, she’ll pinch them to bits.

But she really isn’t. She isn’t a hermit crab, she’s just a girl and there’s nothing that can keep everything inside of her from dying a slow and painful death. Because now Andy is not only not going to be around, but he’s getting married. To a stranger no less. But like a hermit crab, her house is too small and this woman is never setting foot inside of it. And it’s his stupid fault, because that’s what her brother is...stupid.

Doesn’t he know that no one will love him like she does? That no one depends on and needs him as much? Doesn’t he know they’re supposed to be together, forever and always? Doesn’t he know he’s the only person who truly loves her? The person who said he’d never leave her? Why does he need a wife anyway? She can do everything this Lana person can, and better. If he’d just let her prove it, he’d see!

~*~

But he didn’t. Andy ended up getting married.

Beth dropped out of medical school before completing her residency, but applied her credits to nursing. She was absolutely certain the Admiral was going to have a stroke that she had decided not to become a neurosurgeon like him, or his second choice, a cardiologist. Emergency room nursing suits her needs. She is indoors and on her feet throughout the darkness of the night when home is ever so lonely. It feeds the excessive energy that floods her system and lets her literally crash, semi-conscious during the sometimes three, sometimes four consecutive days she has off.

Life settles into a medication-less routine. Beth finally grows her final inch in height, puts on a few more pounds so she doesn’t seem nearly as cadaverous as she did before. She can blame late occurring puberty for that and for just the most brief moments of time, things seemed to have found their balance. There were no great highs. There were no life-threatening lows. Beth could finally breath.

At least until....the sun burned out and destroyed everything in a single knock on the door.

Perfunctory words that echo in her dreams.

~*~

“Miss Riley, on behalf of the Chief of Staff, United States Air Force, I regret to inform you of the untimely death of your brother, Second Lieutenant Andrew M. Riley-”

Beth Riley...isn’t anything any more.  All of everything that was bright and best within her is now a single leg and some bone fragments in a beautiful koa wood casket. It is a folded flag put into her hands. It’s the reception in the Admiral’s house and an incredibly long line of people talking and talkingandtalkingandtalkingandtalking and saying nothing at all. She can’t breath. She can’t feel. Nothing makes sense and it never will because what do you say when half of you is ripped away and gone forever? What do you do when the world stops turning and the sun has burnt out of the sky?

Beth slips out of the house without being noticed. She manages to get in her brother’s Mustang and heads into the city proper, and ends up at the bar he used to like to frequent when he was on leave. She sits at the bar and orders scotch, 25 year Macallan.

She buys the bottle. She buys the entire bar drink after drink until last call.

She lets someone take her home. Gets into his apartment. Doesn’t really feel his mouth and his hands pawing at her. Doesn’t feel anything really at all until she shoves him away. Things become blurry after that and she only really vaguely remembers calling Jay from a payphone some blocks away.

She can’t find her shoes. But that doesn’t matter.

Nothing does.

Three months later ~one hundred days, to be precise~ Beth quits her job. She turns her utilities off. Throws a few things including her wallet, her passport, and her rosary into a sea bag that she’s had forever. 

Darfur. The Democratic Republic of Congo. Amsterdam. Uruguay. Wherever Médecins Sans Frontières will let her go, to treat people living in the worst conditions. Ironic, isn’t it...that no matter where she goes, Beth always manages to make it back. That all those fears Andy had of her killing herself from neglect or inattention, or even possibly through deliberate action, and she can’t get so much as a life-threatening paper cut? It isn’t fair.

And maybe...maybe it doesn’t matter. There’s a lot of ways you can die in Louisiana.

She hears the coffee in New Orleans is really wonderful.

[candle-jill]

10 days post op!

Just a rambling post about my breast reduction - trying to vent out my feelings about everything. The first week was SUCH a blur, it's crazy. I thought for sure I could chill and watch movies (mark off some from my Hader list - by the way - I only have 40/225!!!). Turns out my brain was broken after surgery. Partially from anesthesia but also partially because I wasn't taking my adderall. I know stimulants can cause issues with circulation and I was not about to be even more paranoid about losing my nips.

But the last two days I've been taking my adderall and I've been feeling so much better. I don't even want to think about my brain fog just being the way my head works without adderall - that thought is terrifying.

ANYWAY

2 lbs of boob meat gone.

I weighed 150 lbs today and I was so excited. Initially back in Feb/March when I started treatment for ADHD I was 172 lbs and I had 155 lbs as my "goal" weight that I'd be pretty happy with. 145 lbs was my "Wow! That would be totally amazing but I'm not holding my breath!" weight. And to think I'm 5 lbs away from that is just crazy to me. It's been a long journey to get here and adderall definitely helped a LOT, but it wasn't all appetite suppression - I'm a really picky eater and I don't like most food, but a lot of my calories were coming from candy and junk food because I needed the dopamine hit that my ADHD brain wasn't giving me. On a stimulant I don't even think about sugar or junk food (until the med wears off). I cut so many calories because I wasn't craving a dopamine hit. The appetite suppressant aspect helped a lot too, especially in the beginning, but now "food wise" I'm probably eating the same I always was.

The extra 2 lbs of boob meat helped push me closer to dipping into the 140s (SO CLOSE!) which makes me want to cry happy tears. I just feel like getting my body back to pre-kids has been such a long journey. Being on medication to make me feel like I'm finally functioning how I'm SUPPOSED to makes me want to cry happy tears. Having a body without large breasts constantly LITTERALLY weighing me down, causing me pain, makes me want to cry happy tears.

Like... I'm 10 days post-op and I know I have a long healing journey yet... but I'm thinking about all the things I'll be able to do now and I feel so much hope and excitement for my future. Any activity with my kids was laced with the underlying negotiation of, "Can I handle the pain of this today?" PHYSICAL pain (also the general 'pain in the ass' dealing with kids is 😂).

I'm wearing the tiniest little "bra" - I have incisions all around my chest - BUT I can MOVE. I'm exhausted from surgery still so I'm not doing much, but I'll have the ability to do it! It's fucking wild. Not to mention... my boobs fucking look awesome! I've never liked my boobs (I wasn't insecure but wasn't happy). But now? They're going to look so good when they heal! They are small... they are SO SMALL. They are WAY smaller than I really wanted or smaller than what I think looks good for the way I carry my weight (all in my stomach). But they're symmetrical and the nips have the perfect placement (a lot of reductions have them too high), they look natural... like... he did a fucking amazing job. I've been feeling a bit gaslighted about the size of my boobs from some people. A lot of people have said that it's just because I went from such a large size to being small. No. No, my friend. That is not the case here. I'm a very objective person. I gots some small boobies now. They're a step up from pecs. Optimistically, they're slightly bigger than what they do for a NB reduction... although, I've seen results of NB reductions at my size too. I don't really appreciate people telling me they're not small to assuage my fears. I'm not in a place where I regret having it done. I'm not in a place where I'm in love with the size. I appreciate the positives that come with having small boobs and I'm going to try to use that as motivation to get the rest of my body to look how I want it (ie stomach). My truly ideal, very very very happy goal weight would be 135 lbs. (120 lbs in a crazy fantasy land). My goal is to start exercising around January once I'm more properly healed (maybe New Year Resolution). To think that's even remotely within range... mind blown. I just want to be in shape and I want to feel good and comfortable with what I'm wearing. I want clothes to fit me. I'm looking forward to life for the first time in a LONG time!

[purplesurveys]

1188

Have you ever shared a shower or bath with someone as an adult? I did it a couple of times with a past girlfriend, but I’m honestly not a fan of it unless I’m somewhere with a serious lack of bathrooms and it’s the only choice available. I like my space when I get myself all cleaned up lol.

What kind of pizza toppings do you like?  Different kinds of cheeses do it for me, really. If I absolutely have to pick toppings, I do like bacon, bell peppers, barbecue chicken, or onions on my pizza.

When did you first take a shot of alcohol?  I have no idea, actually. Maybe 20? 21? I never noted the year down. I don’t even know the first shot I ever took...if I had to guess, it was probably tequila.

Did you babysit for money when you were in middle school? No. I babysat because I was the eldest daughter and granddaughter in an Asian household, haha.

Who is your favorite band? How long have they been?  Paramore; 17 years, have loved them for 14.

Has the last person you kissed ever been to your house? Many times. She used to be a welcome guest.

Have you ever been to a spa?  I don’t think I’ve ever entered one, no. There’s been no reason to in the past.

When talking on the phone, do you place it against your left or right ear? Right. I don’t remember ever placing it on my left, come to think of it.

What’s your favourite Lunchables meal?  Idk, I’ve never had them. American thing, I’m guessing.

Do you like Bob Marley?  I don’t hold an opinion on him; I’ve never tried listening to his music.

Have you ever eaten at Golden Corral? Nope, I don’t know what that is, either.

Do you sit and eat dinner at the same table with your family?  Yes, we have dinner together every night. We’ve been doing it since the start of the pandemic; and, with that, since my dad has had to stay at home since he can’t report to work anyway considering the situation. I imagine we’d be back to eating separately once he can report back to his job.

Are you listening to any music right now? If so, what are you listening to?  Yeah, I’m listening to Map of the Soul: 7 and UGH! just started playing. This is such a good FUCKING album it’s absolutely insane how good it is. Whatever spirit possessed BTS throughout 2019 to produce an album this unbelievable wasn’t playing.

Who was the last person to make you genuinely smile?  Hobi, since I rewatched the Run BTS segment where he called Conan O’Brien ‘Curtain.’

Is there something you want to say to someone but can’t/won’t? No.

Do you like men who have a sensitive side?  I think it’s nice when anyone has a sensitive side and isn’t ashamed to be in touch and expressive with their emotions. Doesn’t have to apply to just guys.

Have you ever tried to get someone into a certain band/artist?  I don’t do that with any of my interests because I don’t want to potentially irritate or bore someone, or to potentially face the disappointment I’d feel when they don’t end up being enthusiastic about what I’m into. I’m totally okay with my interests just being My Thing, no need to drag other people into them.

Have you ever carved you and someone else’s initials into a tree?  Nopes.

Do you like Dairy Queen?  Just some items, like their Oreo Frappe or whatever it’s called. I’m not a big fan of ice cream cakes and I’ve never really explored their Blizzards.

Is there anyone you know with an amazing personal success story?  Andi.

Is there a song in a different language that you can sing? Well Filipino is my first language rather than English, so yes.

How do you feel about bands that use pyrotechnics in live concerts?  I’ve never experienced this other than One Direction using fireworks at the end of their concert here (and they weren’t launched from the stage either, but somewhere backstage), so I don’t really know what to feel about this other than they should just make sure they’re following safety protocols and standards to avoid mishaps.

Ever fallen down a hole?  I don’t think so.

Do you like bananas?  Not so much, but I don’t passionately hate it as much as I do other fruits. I do like some dishes that incorporate banana, like banana bread and banoffee pie. Recently I discovered Korean banana milk and it ended up tasting pretty good!

How long do you normally spend in the shower? Not even 10 minutes, usually. I've never understood how people can take such long showers. < Yeah, pretty much on the same page. The only times I take a while is if I feel like shaving, but otherwise I shower quickly. Maybe around 4–7 minutes at most.

Have you ever been a featured member on any website?  I don’t think that ever happened, at least when having featured members was still a thing.

Have you ever had any weird pets?  Nope.

Are you currently talking to/texting/instant messaging anyone?  I am not. Though I know I have unread messages from Andi...I just don’t feel like checking them right now.

Have you ever experienced insomnia?  Only when I was a teenager. It’s been a while since I’ve faced any trouble in trying to fall asleep.

Do you like egg nog? I’ve never had a chance to try it but it sounds delicious, and I would definitely take a sip the first opportunity I get.

Would you ever wear Converse with a prom/formal dress?  I don’t see why I would have to but if it’s just for funsies, it sounds pretty harmless so yeah, I would.

Do you prefer hot chocolate with or without marshmallows?  Withoooooooooout. I’ve never understood marshmallows.

How many different people of the opposite sex have you cried over?  In a romantic sense, none. But I’ve cried for other reasons, like when I mourned over my grandpa and Nacho.

Would you rather be a surgeon or mortician?  Surgeon, since there’s a tiny part in me that had always wanted to take up med school.

Would rather be a musician or a painter? Painter, if anything. I’m not creative by any means, but I feel like I’d enjoy a lot more freedom with painting.

Would you rather write your own book or make your own movie? [continued from last night] Write my own book I suppose, but I could only work with non-fiction. I’d embarass myself if I had to write something not based off of real life.

At home, do you have a trampoline? No. But this reminds me of when we’d go to Rita’s place to have meetings whenever we couldn’t hold them in school. She’s the richest one out of all of us, lives in a very old money village, big-ass house, big-ass kitchen, big-ass receiving areas (plural)...and they also have a nice trampoline in their big-ass yard. We always used to horse around in there as soon as we were done with our meetings.

When you are about to go to bed, do you put on some sort of noise?  I used to put on a YouTube video that would entertain me enough to feel relaxed and eventually sleepy, but I haven’t done that in the last few weeks. These days I usually look for a fanfic to get absorbed in, then I read until my eyes start feeling heavy.

What is your favorite Christmas movie?  Love Actually or It’s A Wonderful Life.

And what about your favorite Christmas song?  It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas makes me feel festive and fuzzy.

What is your ultimate favorite stocking stuffer?  My family doesn’t really keep up with this tradition. I remember how our grandparents would fix up stockings for us when we were much younger, but they were usually filled with candy. 

After Halloween, do you sort out all of your candy into little piles?  I never collected candy for Halloween.

When you listen to music with headphones, do you keep the volume low enough to hear surrounding noise faintly, or do you blast it?  Depends. The rare times I’m working and do feel like putting headphones on, the volume has to be just decent enough so I can still focus. If I’m not doing anything else or at least doing something that doesn’t involve too much ~brain activity~, I like my music very loud.

What did you have for breakfast this morning?  It doesn’t really count as breakfast but I’m currently finishing off the remaining two pieces of McNuggets I got last night. 10 pieces is apparently too many for my appetite, haha.

What’s the largest animal you’ve ever had as a pet?  Cooper has probably been the biggest and heaviest so far.

Do you own any kind of helmet?  We have a bike helmet here at home, but it’s not exclusively mine.

Out of everything currently in your refrigerator, what food or drink is your favorite?  I don’t memorize the fridge so I can’t tell you my favorite food that’s currently in it; as for drink, I just stick to cold water.

What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?  Sprained ankle after I tripped at one of the parking lots in school.

Do you like the taste of cough syrup?  I’ve never had it.

What is something you like to have conversations about?  People with experiences vastly different from mine, because it lets me explore different perspectives. It’s why I always look forward to family reunions with one of my uncles - who’s a foreigner, from a very different country - since he’s able to share a lot of fun and reflective stories about his life and stuff he did in his youth, stuff I never got to experience and live through.

What all is in the trunk of your car?  The trunk used to be my trash can lmao, back when I was still driving everyday. My mom has since cleared it out since the beginning of the pandemic; I believe only a laptop bag is sitting there now.

Do you ever put fruit on your cereal? No. I don’t even eat either.

Is your heat or air conditioning currently on?  My electric fan is. I don’t turn on the aircon until the evening.

Have you ever fallen off of a horse?  Nopes.

Which do you value more, your appearance or your intelligence?  Both are important to me.

When was the last time you drove something other than a car or truck?  I don’t remember. I’ve only ever driven cars.

Were your grandparents present when you were born?  Neither set wasn’t in any of the photos from my birth, so I don’t think so...? My maternal grandparents definitely wouldn’t have been present, since my parents had been living in Manila then.

If you drink/smoke, how often do you do these things?  I vape...pretty much all day. I’m doing it while taking this survey. As for drink, I would say 1-2 times a month. Usually after a particularly grueling shift.

What do you think of fast food?  I love it. Unabashedly. I just don’t have them a lot because I don’t find it filling and the quality is obviously lower; but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the way fast food tastes.

What website do you spend the most time on and why?  Google Suite, if it counts. I work 5 days a week; it’s pretty much an extension of me at this point.

What’s the most amount of time you’ve spent online? Is this usual for you?  All day. I’m always using the internet to do things. I used to be embarrassed of it, but these days I feel like having a connection is virtually an essential.

When it comes to travel, what kinds of places intrigue you most? Museums, historical sites, cultural sites, and spots where they show you how they do practices native to the place. I’ve always been about immersing myself in the cultures of the places I visit.

What is the farthest you’ve walked in one day and what made you do it?  I remember having to walk for a very very very VERY long time when we were in Bali - my family wanted to explore more of the city - and the weather wasn’t cooperative at all, so I ended up feeling super cranky. I remember also walking around a lot in Shanghai, but that was a slightly better experience since the city was incredibly lively and there were a lot of things to see and stop at; not to mention the weather was also kinda pleasant. The cold was biting but I would always rather be too cold than walk around with sweat-soaked clothes.

What is something important that’s often on your mind lately?  Our financial situation what with Covid affecting both my parents’ jobs. We get by enough for me not to worry too much, but I also hope my dad can get called back to his ship soon just so I can finally exhale with relief.

What about something unimportant, but you can’t stop thinking about it?  My workplace recently introduced this workout challenge thingy for the month of May that we’re invited to join to encourage us to get fit and healthy. I get notifications whenever someone’s able to exercise for the day and it makes me feel super pressured hahahaha. Since I don’t wanna be known as a killjoy co-worker I know I’ll have to take part in it, which I will start on later.

Do you like oatmeal? If so, what kinds of things do you like in it?  No. Back in elementary my grandma made me eat oatmeal every day for breakfast before heading to school, so I don’t ever want to have another bowl of it.

What was going on the last time you felt nostalgic?  My family and I were having a conversation during dinner last night and for some reason it eventually veered towards mine and my sister’s experiences from our first school and how we managed to get up at 5 AM everyday, have classes from 7 AM–4 PM, then get home from anywhere between 5–6 PM for 14 years straight. How tf did we do that and never complain???

How much attention do you pay to the movements of the stars and planets, and do you believe they influence anything?  None.

What is the most difficult or involved video game you’ve ever played?  While I love watching playthroughs, I am not skilled at video games at all and in most video games I’ve played I never made it past the first mission, unless I was playing a Nintendo game that’s already marketed for kids in the first place lol.

Which accent do you find most sexy, alluring or appealing?  There’s a certain British accent I find very pleasant to listen to, but since I know there are a lot of variations I’m just not sure which one it is. I guess an accurate point of reference would be Hugh Grant’s or Florence Pugh’s accent.

Which accent do you find most annoying, disturbing, or bothersome?  None of them.

Can you cry on cue? Is it any kind of useful?  Nope.

Does it take you a while to actually get jokes?  Sometimes.

Can you wear socks to bed or does it annoy you?  I don’t really like the feeling of socks, so no. I find them a bit itchy, and too tight.

Have you ever bleached your hair?  Never done it before.

Do you like jelly beans?  Erm, it would depend on the flavor, I guess. But they aren’t so much my snack of choice. The texture is a bit weird.

Do you have trouble sleeping when it’s storming?  Not at all, I feel a lot cozier when it’s raining hard.

Who was the last person you know that graduated? (high school or college)  Sofie posted her graduation photo not too long ago, so probably her.

Were you happy or sad when you found out your babysitter was coming?  I never had a babysitter because I was the babysitter.

Did you have a boyfriend in kindergarten?  No. I went to an all-girls school, so I didn’t even get to interact with a lot of boys until the middle of high school.

Did you ever read the Magic Treehouse series?  Nope.

Who was your best friend in elementary school?  Angela. I was also friends for a long time with a girl named Jaynie, with whom I actually started to reconnect ever since she found out I was now into BTS. I find it so cool; I don’t think I’ve talked to her since the 2nd grade, 15 years ago.

Did you ever watch The Land Before Time movies?  I didn’t.

Did you collect anything when you were a kid? Stickers. I'd put them on my dresser everywhere to the point it was absolutely covered. < Literally this entire answer; I don’t have any clue how my overly neat mom managed to never spank me for destroying her closet. I also liked collecting Pokemon cards and pogs even though I never knew how to use them. It just felt nice having large stacks of them lol.

Did you get an allowance?  Not until high school. My grandma (and eventually househelp, when we moved) fixed up packed lunches for me and my siblings. When my mom decided to stop having house helpers at home, that’s when she started giving us an allowance to buy recess and lunch ourselves.

Were you into American Girl dolls?  I was never into dolls in general. Since my sister and I were the only girls at home, we were surrounded by toys marketed for boys and that’s what I enjoyed playing with more.

Were you friends with your childhood neighbors?  We played with the neighborhood kids every afternoon but I wouldn’t call them friends. I was a very shy kid and I found them too rowdy for my liking, especially the boys.

What was your biggest fear when you were a kid?  Flying cockroaches. It’s still one of them.

Did you ever play the "Reader Rabbit" computer games?  I don’t think so.

Did your parents let you drink soda growing up? I’m pretty sure they would’ve allowed me to, but I just never liked the feeling of fizzy drinks so I never drank soda anyway.

What was your favorite kind of cake as a kid?  I think I liked mocha sponge cakes growing up, but that has changed now.

[anna-justice]

What if? - Upstead

Summary: Another take on 7x10 where Hailey and Jay get to have their moment.

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood and gore?

Requested: No

...

There were a million thoughts running through Hailey’s head when Jay picked up the ringing phone: What if this was some divine intervention keeping her from professing her feelings? What if she never got the courage to tell him again? What if she screws up this relationship too? And by far the most terrifying, what if he doesn’t feel the same way?

Hailey tried to rationalize with herself, there was no way that feelings so strong couldn’t be returned. There was a reason she had fallen in love with him, his loyalty, her ability to follow him blindly, the overwhelming trust in their partnership. He had to be feeling all those things too. 

The slight smile on Hailey’s face was ingrained in Jay’s head as he gripped the undercover phone. His heart beat faster as she spoke, convincing him that he couldn’t answer Bobby, Angela’s son. “You just caught a bullet for this,” she said, the smile returning, “you gotta let this one go.” Jay held her gaze for a moment, the look in her eye unrecognizable. “Just let it go.”

Jay nodded, “Alright,” and threw the phone on the bed. He kept his green orbs locked on her blue ones. “What were you gonna say?”

Hailey stared at him, the momentum of her confession lost. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him, he had been through so much, was it really fair to drop this on him too? “Nevermind, I’m gonna pull the car around. Meet me out front.” She took a breath and walked out of the room, leaving a breathless Jay behind her.

Jay stared at the empty doorway, cursing himself for not saying anything. How could he though? He was ready for her to say those three words, the ones he had been waiting for for so long. There was no guarantee that Hailey realized during his surgery that she loved him too, that was just what he wanted her to say. And oh how much he wanted her to say it. 

He followed her directions, grabbing his things and heading towards the front of the hospital where he found her waiting in her car. She hopped out of the car before he even reached it, pulling the passenger side door open for him. Jay shook his head, “I’m pretty sure this is backwards.” Hailey rolled her eyes and helped him get settled in the seat, going as far as buckling him in. Jay laughs in protest, “I could’ve done that!” 

Hailey grins at him, their faces barely inches apart. She lingers there, “I know, but I’m here to make sure you don’t have to.” The heat rushes to her face when she follows Jay’s gaze to her lips. She jumps back, only then realizing how close together they were.  

When Hailey slams the door shut Jay takes a deep breath, squirming a bit as to recover from the moment before. He wanted to kiss her. Hell, he was going to kiss her, but she backed away and literally slammed a door in his face. Jay scoffed, the situation almost comedic to him. 

Hailey took a little longer than she needed to make her way to her side of the car. She needed a moment to let the pink tint on her cheeks fade. When she finally got inside, she quickly buckled herself in and started the car. Her grip on the steering wheel turning her knuckles white. Jay noticed how tense she was from the passenger seat. He stayed silent during the short drive to his apartment, letting her help him out of the car and into the building without any teasing. It wasn’t until several minutes later that he began to question her. 

Hailey was staring down a cup of coffee she had no intention of drinking. She hadn’t had much of an appetite at all since Jay was shot. She had poured him a cup as well, the two of them sitting in slightly uncomfortable silence on his couch. She was tired, she couldn’t deny that. She wasn’t sleeping, every time she closed her eyes she pictured him bleeding in the basement of that building. She could feel her heart break every time she relived him being rolled away to an ambulance. “Hailey.” She didn’t hear him, her eyes filled with tears as she thought about just a few days before when she stood in the ED at MED, listening to Will explain all the ways he almost died. “Hailes.” Her head jerked in his direction, pulling her out of her daytime nightmare. She couldn’t see him clearly due to her current state, her vision blurring. “Hailey.” He said, this time much softer. 

Hailey wiped the tears from her eyes and shrugged, trying to push a smile to the surface. “I’m sorry,” she says, sniffling. Jay frowns and shifts closer to her, using his not sling bound hand to wipe a tear from her cheek. She grabs his hand and pushes it away. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you.” 

Jay sighs, moving his hand to rest on her thigh. “How about we take care of eachother?” Hailey nods and lets the tears fall, Jay holds her close to the best of his ability.

Hailey didn’t loose her composure often, she was tough and prided herself on it. But there was something about Jay that broke down her walls. He had witnessed her in this state more than anyone else in her entire life. That terrified her, but at the same time it made her love him even more. Around him she was unapologetically herself, no walls (much to her dismay), no lies, just her. 

Normally Jay would have hated to be in this position. He was the hero type, ex-military, a cop, always saving people. He simply couldn’t help it, it was how he got himself shot just a few days ago. For some reason though, he couldn’t handle crying girls. It could be a man thing, he’d heard tons of other guys say it and he always agreed. With Hailey it was different, he was perfectly content just holding her, letting her tears soak his shirt. 

Hailey looked up at him with glassy eyes, hiccuping. His heart clenched at the sight. “There was a split second when we found you that I thought you were dead.” She said breathing out. “An-And it felt like the world was crashing down around me.” Jay pulled her into him again. He hadn’t thought much about how all this was affecting her, he knew it was hard and she was scared, but he didn’t realize that to her it wasn’t just another shooting. He had no idea that if she could’ve she would have taken that bullet for him a hundred times over. “I just see you lying there over and over and over again,” she confessed. “I have never felt so useless, you were dying and I couldn’t save you.”

Jay cupped her cheek, “Look at me.” He held her jaw softly, but firm, guiding her eyes to his own. “I’m here, I’m okay.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek, “I’m alive.” 

Hailey nods, trying to regain her composure even though it was long gone. “Can you do something for me?”

“Anything.” He says, grabbing her hands in his. 

“Can you stop getting shot?” Jay chuckles, “Seriously, two times in a year is enough.” Hailey jokes.

Jay smirks, “What can I say? It’s all in a days work.”

“You’re a piece of work you know?” Hailey scoff and Jay gives her a hundred watt smile.

“Yeah, but you love me anyway.” Jay freezes, realizing what he just said. “I just mean-”

“I do.” Hailey cuts him off, “I love you.” Jay’s breath catches in his throat, he searches her for any sign that she could be lying or that this moment is a dream. “I love you Jay, that’s what I was going to say at the hospital. I underst-” He cuts her off by slamming his lips into hers. Hailey is taken aback, but quickly recovers, kissing him back with everything in her. 

Jay pulls away, “I am so in love with you.” He says, holding her face in his hand. Hailey leans in first this time, capturing his lips, this time with more passion, if that was even possible. Hailey climbs on his lap, careful no to put pressure on his injured arm as Jay deepens the kiss. After what feels like forever, they come up for air. Hailey pressesher forehead to his, a smile shining bright on her face. “I should’ve told you sooner,” He says pecking her lips, “I’ve been missing out on so much.”

Hailey smirks, “Oh really?’ She kisses him again, bringing her hands to his sharp jaw. 

“Really.” Hailey moved off his lap an curls into his side.

She smiles up at him, “Dammit, I can’t go home.” Jay gives her a questioning look. “I don’t really feel like getting the “I told you so” speech today.”

Jay laughs and pulls her closer, “Like I was going to let you leave.” He presses a kiss to her forehead and stares down at the woman in his arms. Hailey Upton was finally his.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 72

This chapter is another one that fought back.  There ended up being about 300 words that hit the cutting room floor so that I am satisfied with where this ends and how it transitions into events to come.

Please, don’t forget to submit your suggestion for naming the colony! I’m really excited to see your ideas, and you still have over a month to submit.

Later that week, I was in my office with Tyche, running through some personnel files.  For once, there were no pending projects that we were working on, no major staffing changes. Instead, we were trying to familiarize ourselves with the rest of the people on the ship.  Despite being over a year into our journey, we really only knew about twenty people well and were familiar with maybe a hundred or so each.  Since we were responsible for any staffing decisions along with managing projects and events, it had frequently left us in a position where we were scrambling for files rather than having specific people come to mind.

I flicked away my datapad with a groan, leaning back to stretch. “How am I so behind on this?”

“You’ve been busy,” Tyche pointed out before sighing. “And you were one of the last people brought onto the Ark, on top of that.”

“Wait, what?” I surged forward to lean on my desk. “I mean, I knew we left Earth not long after I came on board, but I thought we all arrived around the same time.” Honestly, I had never thought about it.

Tyche shook her head slowly. “Soph. It took over a year to bring everyone on board. When Noah says they brought everyone that showed no detriment to humanity’s existence, they meant everyone.”

“But they only found ten thousand people.” I started chewing my lip.  In the time we had been in space, I always assumed that it was due to capacity restrictions.

“And we can carry up to a million if needed,” she responded to both my spoke and unspoken thoughts. “Hang on, let me see if Simon is in class.  He was actually there, so it’s literally no one on board except Noah who can explain this better.”  After some poking at her datapad, she found what she was looking for. “Okay, he just got out of one class and has an hour break.” Before I could even stop her, she was hailing him. “Simon, I need you to come to Sophia’s office.  It’s urgent. I’ll feed you.  Chicken pot pie sound good?”

“Yeah, that works. I’m seven minutes away,” his voice responded with a worried tone. “Everything okay?”

“It’s a non-emergency, but I would like it handled as quickly as possible, preferably by you.” My eyebrows shot up at her last comment.  Simon had never been her favorite person, so the fact that she would prefer he explain this instead of Noah was intriguing.  As I made my way to the conference table, she grabbed three lunches from the console along with one pitcher of water and one of the tomato-orange sangria we had both fallen in love with.  

By the time she was seated, Simon was coming through the door, slightly out of breath. “Okay, I’m here. What’s up? Hi, Sophia.”

Tyche pointed firmly at the empty seat. “Simon, how long have I been on board the Ark?”

His face scrunched up. “Terran time? Uh… let’s see. Subjective Terran time, it’s January 2045, so… Almost three years, why?”

I choked on the bite of pastry in my mouth. “That’s ridiculous. I’ve only been on the ship for a year and a half.”

“Two in March, actually,” Simon corrected gently. “But yeah, it took about two years to get everyone we could off of Earth.  It wasn’t as many as we hoped, but… Just over ten thousand was enough.”

“I told her, maximum capacity for the Ark was intended to be one million.”

He chewed thoughtfully before swallowing and nodding. “Yeah, that was the original goal. When the Ark was being refitted, it was intended to have quarters that were essentially four beds and a small shared space with a food console, a mess hall on every other deck, and med bays on every deck.  That was it, that was the entire ship. No libraries, no labs, purely the most efficient possible use of space to carry as many humans as possible to a new world.” His voice got quiet as he continued.  “Miys thought it would take a few months, Terran-subjective time, to load the ship up.  I mean, global population was at ten billion when we originally left Earth. It wasn’t an unreasonable estimate.”

Thundering silence filled the room, and my appetite abandoned me.  When I pushed my meal way, Tyche pushed it back with a knowing look. I poked the dish with a fork a few times before addressing the elephant in the room. “But instead it took two years, and only ten thousand people made the cut?”

“Yeah…” He leaned back and took a drink of his water.  I could see him trying to find the words he needed. “There’s no nice way to say this,” he admitted. “Keep in mind, I only experienced a year on the trip out and the trip back.  I had no way of knowing how much time actually passed on Earth.”

Somehow, I actually did keep forgetting that.

He continued, running a hand over his short-cropped hair.  “By the time we got back, the entire population was just over ten million.  Ninety-percent casualties.  Of the people left, there were nearly none under the age of fifteen.  Everyone brought on board has their own stories of what it was like in the After, but believe me, you do not want the whole picture. The ‘nice’ version is that nearly any illness or injury was pretty much fatal, people were starving, and it was violent.  And that’s the nice version.” He shook his head vigorously.

I knew that gesture.  He was shaking away memories.

“Miys had determined that the bare minimum for a sustainable colony of humans was ten thousand, with a solid repopulation plan in place, but didn’t think that number would ever be needed. We expected to have strict criteria to narrow it down to a million, and instead we scoured the globe for as many as we could find, and I begged for that magical number that showed we wouldn’t be extinct.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me this sooner?” I asked softly.  I could feel my brain overloading with panic before the defense mechanism kicked in and shunted it to the side.  It’s over, you can’t change it, don’t dwell on it.  I would weep later, in private. Eventually, anyway.

“Because you care, Sophia,” he sighed. “It would hurt you.  Just knowing that anyone not on the ship was being left to die hurt you.  What was I supposed to expect when you found out how many already had?”

I scrunched my face to concede his point.  “Fair enough.  I know it’s not anything I can change, but I can see why no one told me this while we were still in orbit.”  I poked at my now-cold lunch. “So I’m one of the last people to board, we have the same number of people now that we did an hour ago, and now I know why we have more resources than we need for the trip.”

“Barring repairs,” Tyche interjected.

“Right, barring repairs apparently.”

“So… You aren’t mad?” Simon asked quietly.

I shook my head. “No, Simon, I’m not mad.  Do I wish I knew sooner? Yeah.  But with everything else that has happened in the last year, I honestly can’t imagine when it should have been brought up.  The only reason it even came up today is because Tyche and I were trying to get more familiar with the people on the ship.  One thing led to another, and…” I made a vague gesture to indicate ‘and here we are’.

“And chicken pot pie with sangria,” he mused.

“Hard conversations are easier with comfort food,” I explained. “Family secret.”

“Obviously worked on you,” Tyche muttered wryly, pointing at his plate. Sure enough, it was scraped clean.

“So, Simon. How are classes going?” I asked, trying to change the topic so I could wait to process things until later.

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[deathsshadow]

I gasped and forced my eyes open, taking in the sun shining through the half-blinded windows, the lights throwing shadows off the dozens of boxes littering my room. Groaning I rubbed my forehead, clearing sleep and the dark mat of hair out of my eyes before wrestling the tangled mess of blankets from my body and made my way to the adjoining bathroom.

The sudden shock of cold water woke me up and brought me fully back to reality. I stared at the mirror for a few minutes, just talking in my pale complexion. My black hair still fell across my forehead and I had to move it back to look at my face, at my eyes. My whole life I’d been told I looked like my father and they were right, except for my eyes. They were my mother’s, one of the many strange things I had inherited from her.

One of my eyes was a bright crystal blue while the other was what she used to call ‘ghost grey’, a blue that was so pale it was almost translucent. For most of my childhood she forced me to wear contacts, “to avoid suspicion” she always said, but I never knew why. Right now the lenses rested in their case on the sink, never used. Once I turned fifteen I figured I was old enough to just not care what people think of me.

Also on the sink were my variations of meds: pills for depression and to help with sleep and some sort of experimental thing that was supposed to help with ‘hallucinations’. I huffed at the thought but reached for the cartons anyway, taking a few of each and gulping them down with a mouthful of water even though I knew they wouldn’t help. Sighing I twisted the caps back on before just tossing them into the bin, I’d tell dad I lost them during the move and we might even find a stronger type later, besides this prescription was about to run out anyway.

Throwing on the only clean clothes I had that weren’t already packed I made my way downstairs. Dad was already in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a newspaper in his hand and a coffee cup in front of him. The kitchen like my room was full of boxes.

“Morning Sal,” dad said not even glancing up from the paper, his hand instinctively reaching for the coffee in front of him.

“Morning,” I replied, taking the opposite seat at the small wooden table, eyeing the cup hopefully, “can I have some coffee?”

My father sipped his drink before regarding me, “did you take your medicine?”

“Yes,” I told him truthfully

“Then no,” he said simply finishing the drink, “you know what caffeine does to you while on your meds.”

I sighed and went to pour myself a bowl of cereal. Back at the table however my appetite left after one small bite so I just sat there and watched the flakes go soft in the milk. Finally dad finished the paper and folded it, placing it on the table beside him, only then did he actually look at me and took in my pale appearance.

sighing he leant forwards and laced his fingers together, “bad night?”

i shrugged, trying to act casually about it and stirred the spoon around my untouched breakfast, “just tired. all this packing.”

dad sighed again before smiling, reaching over to ruffle my hair, an action he hadn’t done since i was a child.

“it’ll be okay kid,” he promised, “once we head out we can start a new life. things will get better, you’ll see.”

after that he got up and made his way over to the sink, preparing to wash up the dishes. I waited a few minutes before finally caving in under my overwhelming feelings. Sighing i slouched back in my seat.

“I dreamt about mum last night,” I admitted, my voice cracking halfway through my sentence as an unwanted tear welled in the corner of my eye.

The clatter of plates caused me to glance up. Dad stood paralysed, hands in the sink, the dishes left forgotten. He had his back towards me but i could easily feel his emotions, the same feelings was currently running through me as well.

Finally after a few more fretful minutes he turned to glance back at my slumped form. He sighed and pulled the plug before running his wet, soap covered fingers through his hair and dried his hands on a tea-towel, then refilled his cup with fresh coffee.

“here,” he said, placing it down in front of me, “you look like you need it.”

i stared up at him with as much shock as i could force my tired face to show, “but… what about my meds?”

he shrugged, “well, they don’t seem to be working anyway, so…”

at this i practically grabbed hold of the mug and downed half the drink, ignoring the liquid as it burned my throat. as soon as it hit my stomach however a sudden flash blinded my vision, scenes from my past and even worse things flashing by in fast precision, a ringing buzz filling my head. Gasping out in pain i pressed my shaking hands against my temples as the buzzing became horrid screams. suddenly my stomach lurched and i rushed to the slowly draining sink, emptying both the caffeine and useless tablets out of my system. that was when i reminded myself that i just hated coffee.

bringing myself back i wiped my mouth clear with a hand, feeling the sweat trickle down my neck. i could hear dad sighing in the background.

“maybe next time,” he said as i turned to face him. slowly he cleared his throat, fidgeting slightly under my accusing gaze before adding, “speaking of which, shouldn’t you go say goodbye to Toby? it’ll be a while till you get to see him again.”

His question forced me back to the current situation. Sighing i lowered my head and, nodding sadly, made my way to the backdoor. this was one of the things i was dreading, having to say goodbye to a good friend. one of my only friends...

...

He spotted me the moment i exited the door. Giving a happy bark the large black hound bounded forwards, only to be pulled back by the heavy chain holding him down. Whimpering he sat back and scratched irritably at the shabby red collar.

Smiling sadly at his pathetic expression i closed the door, making my way over to unclip him. The moment he was untied he gave a loud yelp of excitement and bowled me over, forcing me down easily. I gave a genuine laugh and pushed him back just enough to sit up, scratching him behind the ears. He whined happily and tilted his head back against my palm, staring at me with his mix-matched eyes.

I had Toby ever since i was a kid, my auntie got him for me for my twelfth birthday. None of us knew what breed he was, some kind of cross-mix by the look of him. He was large and dark, with thick fur, pointed ears and a long bony tail. But the main reason my aunt got him for me was because of his eyes, they were just like mine, blue and grey. shiny and bright.

“Hey bud, it’s good to see you too,” i laughed as he licked my hand and then my cheek.

Smiling i pushed him back again so i could wipe my face clear. As the minutes drifted by my expression started to slip. Giving a small sigh i placed a hand against the dog’s head. He whimpered instantly at the touch, probably picking up on my emotions.

“Listen bud,” i muttered, placing both hands along his long head, forcing us to make eye-contact, “I’m going to go away for a while and i... won’t be able to bring you with me...”

He gave another sad whimper like he understood what i was saying and once again i could feel tears welling in my good eye. Wiping them quickly away i wrapped both arms around him, pulling him close for a hug.

“... I’m going to miss you...”

“— don’t worry, we’ll take good care of him.”

Sniffing I glanced up, shocked but not entirely surprised by the sudden voice.

She was standing in the shadow of the house, leaning confidently against the wall, which was probably why i hadn’t noticed her sooner. She was wearing ripped, faded blue jeans covered entirely in brightly coloured paint and marker stains, a long purple t-shirt and a short black coat. Her spiky black hair was cut short and styled in a way that i could only describe as punk-ish. She had a wide smile on her face.

Smiling back at her i wiped my eyes clear.

“Thanks Ace,” i muttered quietly.

Her smile widened at my response.

My cousin, who’s actual name is Ashley White, was exactly what I should have been, what i wished i had been, having inherited the Prince’s family genetics. Although both our hair was raven, a black so dark and shiny in was almost blue, she had been lucky enough to also inherit those bright emerald eyes, and the normality of sight that came with it.

Although i was admittedly a little jealous of this i never actually resented her, in-fact it was the exact opposite. I loved her. She was the best cousin i could have ever hoped for. Even if she was a little annoying at times...

Stepping out of the shadows she crossed her arms and studied me, tilting her head to the side.

“You look terrible,” she shot out, her words dripping with sarcasm

“...very funny...” i muttered, stroking my pet’s head.

She smiled before dropping the act, becoming the true caring and loving girl i knew. Making her way over she knelt down beside me.

“I’m serious,” she said, actually sounding like it, tucking her hands under her knees, “what’s wrong?”

It took a few minutes for me to say anything, but I’ve never lied to her and holding something back, keeping silent when i was hurting, too me at least was the same as lying. i sighed and gave in.

“I had the dream again,” i admitted, staring blankly off into nothing.

Ace’s eyes widened and her face went pale, but she shifted closer as if i had just informed her on some sort of secret, like a child finding out about a hidden birthday present.

“Was it there?” She asked, “i mean, like... did you see it?”

I nodded, absently running my fingers through the dog’s thick, black fur, “i did. Clearer than ever...”

Climbing to her feet she grabbed hold of my hand, “come on, let’s go to my room. Then you can tell me in detail.”

Nodding i followed her up, re-clipping the ratted old collar back on and saying a hurried, and final, goodbye to Toby.

...

The door to Ace’s room was always kept closed for her privacy and no one was allowed in without her permission, whether she was in the room or not. A plaque on the door read: ASHLEY WHITE’S ROOM DO NOT ENTER, but someone (Ace) had gone over it with red paint and had written: ACE’S.

I snickered a little at the sight, remembering how that whole scenario came about. That name had come around when we were kids, playing our own make-believe version of cards seeing as we were too young to have learned the original rules. She was always trying to hide things, but her smile always gave her away. When i called her out on it she snickered in a way she thought was evil and threw down her hand-made card.

“Bam, ace of fours. I win!”

I snorted at her failed scheme and scolded her, saying that an ace of four wasn’t even a real card. She pulled a face and muttered: “what-ever...” and ever since then it had become a sort of nick-name.

Slowly i brought myself back to the present as Ace pushed her door open. Flicking on the light she nodded for me to enter...

Entering her room was like entering an art studio, it was wrong to even think about calling it a bedroom. From floor to ceiling, even littered along the floor, were hundreds if not thousands of paintings, sketches, drawings, you name it. If someone was to mention something about one of her drawings she’d only scoff and say that it wasn’t even her best work, but i knew better. She had basic sketches that looked as if they could have been taken from an art museum. Even her worst was better than anything i ever drew.

Ace motioned me over to her bed and I obediently sat, curling my feet up silently. Making her way over to her overflowing desk she slipped out a large folio and a broken stick of charcoal. Slowly she flipped through the pages, looking for a clean slate. Each page she passed—much like the rest of her room— pictured a dark illustration of my nightmare. The black, horned shadow appearing to creep closer the more pages she turned.

Finally she found a blank page. Picking up her chunk of charcoal and a plain red pencil she asked me to recite my dreams to her. Tucking my knees up under my chin i obeyed, allowing the faint sounds of drawing to put me under a sort of trance.

The minuets blurred together as i spoke, eyes shut tight as the memories flooded through my mind. Then came the loud, sudden snap of the charcoal that forced me out of my nightmare back to the present, the creature’s glowing red eyes still burning through my retinas.

I sat there, curled up and shivering as Ace blew away the excess charcoal dust, brushing at the page almost lovingly to made sure it didn’t smudge. not once did she turn back to look at me. I didn’t mind, I actually appreciated the few minutes free time, giving me the chance to wipe the invisible tears and calm myself from the relived fright.

Finally she raised the page up to admire her art, the evil stare of the beast glowing right off the page, the blood red gaze so lifelike it was like it was staring right at me. I shuddered at the thought and turned away, re-closing my eyes. Unfortunately Ace took notice of my movement and turned to face me with a look that almost resembled guilt. She placed the page back down and made like she was going to say something when she was interrupted by the sudden, almost reassuring voice of her mother calling out to us.

“Salazar? Ashley? Are you there? The moving van’s here. Let’s go!”

We both let out a breath at the same time. I had no idea what Ace was sighing about, but i was sighing out of relief at not having to keep that image in my head any longer. Putting on a smile she slipped her drawing into a drawer and got up to walk over to me. Giving a small nod i joined her and together we left her room.

[coldphoenix]

Life Goes On

Author’s Note:-

A while back I was burned out from working on Regal and wanted a short thing to write before sleep. @friezadidnothingwrong suggested Gochi and I think they were hoping for something nice, but umm… I mean writing horrible depressing things is my jam XD So I’m not sure if this is what they had in mind? Probably not at all?? But anyway… it’s actually something I thought of a couple years ago, when I saw this song on @bluejettyy’s blog and remembered it existed. I got this fic idea back then but never got round to writing it, so… thank you Maurice for giving me the boost I needed :D Even if it was a few weeks ago now lol, I did most of it that night but never found the time to finish it. Anyway! It’s here now, hope you all like it. the song is You Were Meant For Me by Jewel.

xxxxx

Beep. Beep. Beep. “Mm…” Goku groaned, awoken by the same screeching that had awoken him every morning for as long as he cared to remember. It wasn’t a patch on what used to make demands of him, but… at his age, he couldn’t be picky. “Alright, alright…” He extended his arm, and shut off the alarm. Then he prepared himself for the same struggle he faced every morning. Getting out of bed.

I hear the clock, it’s six A.M. I feel so far from where I’ve been I got my eggs, I got my pancakes too I got my maple syrup, everything but you

“Mmm…” Goku groaned in agony, pushing himself into a sitting position. He needed his meds… he needed them most in the morning. He reached for the bottle of pills and the full glass of water he kept beside his bed, right in front of Chichi’s picture. He took a couple, and looked at her while he waited for the pain to die down… “Mornin’, Chi.” He grunted. “I hope you have a good day up there.” He rubbed his eyes, still bothered by the pain in his back. It would go soon, the meds were good. Goku had no idea what they were called. He just got given them, by people who knew way more about medicine than him. He trusted them enough… never had a reason not to. They were nice to him, Gohan saw to that. Gohan got his old man the best medical care in the world… heh. Goku smiled slightly, thinking about it. He sure was lucky. A lucky old man. “Nnn…” He leaned forward slightly, onto his zimmerframe… truthfully, he hated using this thing. It made him feel so fucking weak… But, he needed it. In the mornings anyway, when the pain of his arthritis was at its worse. A couple of stretches would help him get rid of it. But even they were getting hard… it sure did suck getting old.

I break the yolks and make a smiley face I kinda like it in my brand new place

Goku made his way into the kitchen. Slowly, and not at all gracefully… but at least he could still walk. That was something. Something he was more grateful for than he ever thought he’d be. He let go of his frame, and made his way to the toaster. A few slices of bread, and a few more. His appetite had faded over the years, and the meds killed it a little… but he still managed to fill four toasters easily enough. He leaned on the counter, and stretched his back out as he waited. Damn, that hurt… but he had to do it. He had to keep up with some kind of routine. Once he’d eaten and was dressed for the day, he would try something a little more intense. Pop! The toast was ready. It was nothing compared to the breakfasts Chichi used to make, but it was food. Still… she would probably scold him for it. Goku chuckled to himself, and looked at her picture on the wall. There was one in every room, because he just knew she would want to watch him everywhere. “I don’t need much to keep me going these days.” He laughed, as if he were justifying his lack of eggs and bacon and all the stuff he used to eat in the morning… “Hana will get me somthin’ anyway, don’t worry.”

Wipe the spots off of the mirror Don’t leave my keys in the door I never put wet towels on the floor anymore ‘cause

“Aaa! Nnnn…” Goku snarled in pain, his eyes scrunched shut, grabbing his leg. He shouldn’t have done that. He’d got himself into the bath, and had decided to do a few stretches in the water. But he was all stiff and seized up – it was the meds! They dulled the pain in his back, but messed up just about everything else. He couldn’t feel properly, he couldn’t control his ki… And he couldn’t keep up with his routine like he used to, but not keeping up with it made it even harder to do anything… dammit. But Goku was stubborn. He needed to get back into shape. So he fought through the pain, and tried to stretch out again… Crack! “Fuck!” Goku snapped, his uncontrolled ki flaring slightly, causing the water to splash around him. Oh hell, he’d really done it now… he’d seized his back. He couldn’t get out. He tried to. He tried to pull himself up out of the bath, but pain pushed him back down. His aged, stiff limbs gave up on him no matter how much he told them not to. He was stuck… hell. Hell! “God dammit…” He growled, angry at himself. He would need Hana’s help… she’d be here soon, but… it was embarrassing! He hoped she wouldn’t mind…

Dreams last so long Even after you’re gone I know that you love me And soon you will see You were meant for me And I was meant for you

“Mr. Son?” A young, female voice rang through the house. Music to Goku’s ears! “Hana?” he called out. “Is that you?” Her voice sounded a little different…. but he put it down to him not hearing her properly. His ears weren’t what they used to be either. “I, uh…” He sighed, hesitating in embarrassment. “I… I need help.” “Are you okay?” No… that wasn’t her voice. Knock knock. “Mr. Son? My name is Sara. I’m Hana’s replacement.” Oh, Kami… no… No, not a new girl! “Do you need help getting out of the bath?” “Uh…” Goku stammered, flustered. “No, I…”

Click. The door opened, and a young girl stepped into the room, wearing Hana’s uniform. She purposefully wasn’t looking in his direction, to give him some privacy. As if it wouldn’t be embarrassing for him either way! “Are you stuck?” “No, I…” Goku uttered, his cheeks burning. Kami, it was their first meeting… he had everything out. It would have been embarrassing enough with Hana, but a new girl… “I’m fine, I – argh!” He let out a bark, as a sharp pain flooded through him, and his body fell back into the bath as soon as he attempted to pull it out. “Fuck!” He smacked his hand into the water, in anger at his own old, frail, weak frame. “God dammit!” “It’s okay!” The young girl insisted, rushing over to him. She kept her eyes on his, not looking anywhere indecent. “Don’t strain yourself. Here.” she took hold of him, allowing his weight to be somewhat supported by hers. “Can you manage? I can get a hoist –” “No no, that… that’s fine…” Goku inhaled, gritting his teeth through the pain as they pulled him up. He leaned on her, and he slowly got out of the bath, and back onto his Zimmer frame… and he exhaled, closing his eyes. “Th… thank you.” He uttered. “I’m sorry, I… God!” he tried to shift his weight to hide himself, if it wasn’t too late already. “It’s alright.” The young girl replied, placing a bath robe over his shoulders. “Do you need help getting dressed?” “No no, I’m fine, honestly.” Goku said. “Thank you – Sara, was it?” “Mm-hm.” She smiled. “That’s right.” “Okay, um… if you could just get me to the bedroom. I’ll… put some clothes on.” Goku laughed slightly, in embarrassment. “Sorry about this. I hope it hasn’t put you off.” “Oh, don’t worry.” Sara giggled, guiding him out of the room. “I’ve seen worse. Some of them do it on purpose.” “Oh!” Goku laughed. “I knew someone like that.” He sniggered, a smile forming on his face as he thought fondly of the old man. Roshi… … Great guy, to Goku. Taught him a lot. … But he was a dirty old pervert to the girls. “My old mentor. He uh… liked the ladies. They didn’t much care for him.” “Oh yeah?” Sara laughed. “Really?” “Well, he was a dirty old man. He was old when I knew him, even when I was a kid.” “He was old when you were a kid?” “Yep.” Goku nodded. “Like a grandpa. He died a couple of years ago.” “… Well…” Sara uttered. “If he was an old man when you were a kid… how did he only die a couple of years ago?” “Oh, he kept drinking from the Fountain of Youth. Kept him alive for decades.”

Goku looked at Sara, and smirked at the look of confusion upon the young girl’s face. Haha. Nobody ever believed him when he talked about his friends… It had made him realise he’d lived a weird sort of life. “He’s gone now, though. Got tired of it, I suppose. … You’re lucky you never met him, to be honest.” “Okay.” Sara giggled. She didn’t really understand what he was talking about, but there was nothing in his notes about dementia. Hana had mentioned that he had a few funny stories about his life… maybe he was just an odd sort of guy. Some of them were. But Hana had said he was nice, and Sara believed her. She looked at his bedroom door. “You sure you don’t need help?” “Nah, I’ll be okay.” Goku said, waving a hand. “Thank you, darlin’.” “Sure.”

I called my mamma, she was out for a walk Consoled a cup of coffee but it didn’t wanna talk So I picked up the paper, it was more bad news More hearts bein’ broken, more people being used

“So, uh… oh.” Goku smiled, when he saw Sara doing the dishes. His house was only small; he could see the kitchen from outside his bedroom door. The bedroom was on the ground floor now; Goku couldn’t manage the stairs. Which annoyed him so much… “Ah, you don’t have to do that. I got nothin’ else to do today.” “It’s fine.” Sara replied. “I brought you some breakfast, and… more meds? Have you taken your pills today?” “Yeah, when I woke up.” Goku let go of his frame a few feet away from his chair, and he started walking. Sara immediately rushed to help him, worried he might fall, but Goku waved her away. “I’m alright, honest. I need to use that thing less.” “Don’t strain yourself.” Sara sighed, folding her arms. “Hana told me you were difficult.” “Haha… sounds about right.” Goku grinned, sitting down. “So… how is she?” “Oh, she’s great – she got that job.” Sara smiled. “Did she tell you about it?” “Yah, she did!” Goku beamed, genuinely thrilled. It was a promotion, in another company, nearer to her home. Hana had her heart set on it… ah, Goku had been hoping she’d get it! “That’s great news, would you tell her I said so?” “Sure!” Sara nodded. “I think she’s coming to visit you at some point, maybe in a couple of weeks. They wanted her to start right away, otherwise she would have come herself –” “Nah, you don’t have to explain nothin’ to me.” Goku said, waving a hand. “I know how it is. When your dream job comes up, you gotta take it. Can’t be draggin’ your heels visiting old men.” “Yeah, that’s right.” Sara smiled. “I’m glad you understand. She really liked you.” “Well… I liked her.” Goku smiled back.

He watched as Sara went back into the kitchen, preparing a decent breakfast. It wouldn’t be a patch on Chichi’s, but… it was better than toast. “So… you’ve got your meds for now. I brought you lunch, you just need to microwave it. Do you want me to do anything while I’m here?” “No no, it’s fine.” Goku insisted. “Really.” “There’s laundry –” “Honestly, leave it.” Goku laughed. “I know you girls only get a short time. I’ve probably delayed you already, haven’t I?” He looked at her. “My son’s coming to visit me this afternoon. He can give me a hand if I need it.” “Okay.” Sara said, wheeling a dinner tray over to him. “Well… if you’re sure. What does your son do?” “He’s a scholar, actually.” Goku said, immediately tucking into his breakfast. “Got some high up job in the university – he’s real smart. Married as well, got a beautiful daughter… That’s my eldest.” “How many do you have?” “Two.” Goku answered. “Two boys.” “Really?” Sara smiled, looking around the room. There were a lot of family photos… Oh, that must be his eldest son? It was a young man, with a woman and a little girl. They looked like a nice family. “Is your other son married?” “Haha! No.” Goku sniggered. “I mean… he’s always with a girl. It’s never the same one.” Goku looked at her, and smirked. “I don’t even learn the names anymore.”

He laughed alongside Sara, and shook his head. “Nah, but… he’s a good kid. Always was. His mother brought them up well.” “Oh…” Sara moved her eyes to a photo, the oldest in the room. It was a married couple, the man looked at little like Goku… that must be him. “That’s your wife?” “Yep. Chichi.” Goku said, looking at the photo in fondness. “We fought through fire to get that dress. Had to travel the world looking for a giant fan.” “Uh-huh…” Sara uttered. Giant fan? That was one of those weird stories Hana had told her about… “How long were you married?” “Oh… God darlin’, don’t ask me that.” Goku laughed slightly, in embarrassment. He really couldn’t remember… “Not as long as I wanted, for sure. But… longer than she deserved.” “I’m sure that’s not true.” Sara replied. She gazed around the room, looking in fondness at all the family photos. They were all so lovely… he had a nice family. “She looks very happy.” “I hope she was.” Goku answered. “I was. I…” He hesitated slightly, remembering… … he felt… bad about it, to be honest. The kind of guy he’d been… “I put her through some stuff sometimes.” He mumbled. “But… she always forgave me. She was just… like that. Understanding.” “Mmm…”

There was a small awkwardness, while Sara thought of something else to say. Goku just laughed. She really didn’t have to. He was fine. He wasn’t sad. He liked talking about Chichi. He liked thinking about Chichi. It made him feel like she was still here… “You’re gonna be late for your next appointment if you keep fussing over me.” He grinned. “Oh – right!” Sara nodded. “Sorry.” “No no, stay as long as you want. I don’t mind.” Goku said. “But I know what it’s like, Hana told me… you have so many things to do, and not much time to do it. I’ll be okay, you go on.” “You’re sure you don’t want me to do anything?” Sara offered. “Save your son the job?” “Nah, it’ll give him somethin’ to do.” Goku sniggered. “He doesn’t come here for a vacation.” He listened to Sara giggled, and returned her smile. “Alright.” She said. “Well… it was good meeting you. Do you want me to take you anywhere?” “Nah, I’m fine here.” Goku said. Stuck in his old chair… he never thought he would end up like this. It was crazy… “Good to meet you too. Are you coming tonight?” “Yes.” Sara nodded. “I’ll see you tonight, Goku.”

Put on my coat in the pouring rain I saw a movie it just wasn’t the same ‘Cause it was happy or I was sad And it made me miss you oh so bad ‘cause

Goku sat there, restless as ever. He couldn’t stretch because of the pain. He tried, but his body just wasn’t working for him today. He took a couple of pills, and managed to get up off his chair. He took his dirty dishes into the kitchen, but he left them. He didn’t feel like doing them right now… “Sorry, Chi.” He smiled at her picture, and imagined her scolding him for leaving the house so untidy. The bed wasn’t made either… Sara would have done it if he’d asked, but… he didn’t liked to bother her. He’d never liked to bother Hana, but over time she’d become so comfortable around him she’d just told him to shut up and she’d gone and done it anyway. Haha… She was a nice girl. He was happy she got that job. That really made his day… But she wasn’t his girl. Not the one that used to do the dishes, or make the bed or make him food… And he missed that girl. Some days more than others. Today was… one of those more days. Maybe it was because Hana was gone; in the end she’d ended up fussing so much it was almost like Chichi was still here. And Goku would miss that. Like he missed her. … He wanted to hear her. He just had to… see how she was doing today. So he made his way over to the phone, and he called his friend.

Dreams last so long Even after you’re gone I know that you love me And soon you will see You were meant for me And I was meant for you

“Hello?” A smile came to Goku’s face at the sound of a familiar female voice. There she was… “Hey, Bulma.” Goku spoke, with uncertainty at first. He didn’t know how she would react… “Goku?” A wave of relief swept through him, and he grinned at the sound of her. It was her. She was here today, with Chichi. Just what he needed… “Yeah, it’s me.” Goku replied. “Is Chichi with you?” He had to prompt her… so the memory came to her. But once it was there, it was clear. “Yes – and Goku, she is not happy with you! And neither am I!” “Oh…” Goku laughed. He remembered this day… “Why?” “What are you – are you really that dense? You know why! What kind of man forgets his anniversary, after all this time! It’s the same date every goddamn year!” “Well – Bulma, I know our date! I just… didn’t realise what date it was today.” “Sigh. You are so dumb, I don’t know how she puts up with you sometimes.” “Yeah…” Goku smiled. “Me neither.” He tried to stick to the script. He tried to remember what he’d said at the time, because it helped her remember it as well. If he broke away… maybe she would get confused. “Well… is she coming home?” it was almost dinner time… “Oh come on, of course she is.” Bulma answered. “Just give her a chance to cool down, and get her some flowers or something. She’ll be fine. She still loves you.” “Heh.” Goku closed his eyes, and swallowed. God damn it… “I love her too.” He spoke.

That was it… he had to. He just… he had to ask. He knew he should keep quiet, and stick to the script, but… he had to know. Even if it wasn’t real, and he knew it wasn’t. But he just needed to… pretend. Just for a minute. He needed Bulma to help him now… “How is she doing, Bulma?” Goku spoke quietly, desperately forcing himself not to cry. He didn’t want to scare her. He didn’t want her to stop… “Is she happy up there?” “What?” “I mean…” He sniffed, and wiped his eyes. Crap… “Does she… does she know I love her too?” He hadn’t said that, had he? He hadn’t asked if Chichi knew… but he had to ask now. He just had to. “You gotta tell me.” “… Yeah, of… of course…” She started to sound confused. Oh, no… No, no no… “Bulma?” Goku spoke, the desperation in his voice seeping thorough, as much as he tried to hide it. He was scaring her… “It’s alright. It’s me. It’s Goku.” “Goku? I don’t know any Goku!” She sounded angry, like she was scaring off a pervert. Dammit! “Who the hell are you?” “It’s me! We’re friends –” “I’m not friends with some creep! How did you get this number? Dad!”

I go about my business, I’m doing fine Besides what would I say if I had you on the line? Same old story, not much to say Hearts are broken, every day

“Dad, there’s some creep on the line saying he’s my friend!” “It’s alright, it’s alright. Don’t worry, I’ll get rid of him.” Trunks’ voice followed hers, trying to calm her down while she got more upset. “It’s okay, Bulma!” “Who are you? Aii, get off me! Vegeta! Vegeta, help!” “Mom, come here! It’s okay, it’s okay…” Bra’s voice… “It’s okay, it’s just Trunks. He’s your son, I’m your daughter. My name is Bra.” “Would you take her back to her room? She shouldn’t be answering the phone.” “Yeah, I know that! Whoever it is, tell them not to call again – shh, shh! It’s okay, Mom. It’s okay. Come on, come with me.” “Hello?” Trunks’ voice came onto the phone; he sounded angry. “Who is this?” “Trunks?” Goku uttered. “I’m sorry, buddy. It’s me. I… I called your mom.”

Trunks didn’t say anything at first. Goku just heard him sigh, and he started to feel guilty. He shouldn’t have called… “Goku…” Trunks uttered. “I thought – I told you, it’s not a good idea to call her. It gets her all confused.” “I know…” Goku replied. “I’m sorry. I understand –” “No, you don’t.” Trunks interrupted. “Look – Goku, you can’t call her anymore, okay? You really can’t. She doesn’t understand who you are.” “… She understands sometimes.” Goku said. “She remembers me –” “Sometimes. And only for a little while.” Trunks spoke sternly. “It’s not enough, Goku. Can’t you see that? It’s getting her upset.” “Well yeah, I get what you’re saying, but… the little whiles are important, Trunks.” Goku closed his eyes as he spoke, trying his best not to let his lips quiver. He didn’t want Trunks to hear him cry. But he wanted Trunks to understand. “Y’know, when I talk to her… … Chichi’s still alive.” He swallowed. “Bulma, she… … she doesn’t remember us getting old. That… that’s enough for me.”

There was silence, for a while. While Trunks thought of what to say. He had to know that Goku’s heart was breaking here. He had to hear it in his voice. But… it didn’t matter much. The way Bulma was… Goku understood. He did. He really did. He just wished he didn’t… “I’m sorry, Goku.” Trunks sighed. “I really am, but… you can’t call her anymore. She gets too confused.” “… How about I come and see her? Gohan could give me a ride.” “I’m… not sure if that’s a good idea.” Trunks answered. “She really can’t have many visitors these days – sometimes she doesn’t even recognise us. Seeing people just upsets her, y’know? You understand what I’m saying…?” “… Yeah.” Goku nodded. “Sure.” He understood. He did. He wished he didn’t, but he did. Bulma was only herself sometimes, and when she wasn’t in the present she was in the past… and that was only good for Goku, nobody else. And a lot of the time she wasn’t anywhere at all. She was just confused, and scared a lot… … Goku hadn’t seen her in a long time. He would like to. Even if she wasn’t herself on the outside, he knew Bulma was still in there somewhere. But… it was hard on Trunks and Bra. And hard on Bulma, maybe. So Goku had to stay away. And that made him so damn sad… “I don’t think it’ll be too long… she doesn’t eat much these days.” Trunks began. Oh Kami, no… Goku wiped his eyes, and stiffened his lips. It would be soon, wouldn’t it…? Dammit… “When I’ve got a bit more time, I’ll come and see you. It’s just difficult right now, she needs constant care –” “It’s okay.” Goku said. “It’s alright, Trunks. I know… you gotta look after your ma.” He laughed. “She always looked after me.” “Me as well.” Trunks was smiling, Goku could tell. Trunks was remembering her… how she used to be. When people could still see her, and talk to her… Before she got sick. Before it got hard… and before she lost her husband. Goku was sort of grateful for that. Vegeta had got old, and died a few years ago… and Goku hadn’t been too pleased to see it. Vegeta had been a lot of things to him, but a friend was one of them. And it hadn’t been easy, losing a friend… but Goku was glad about it, now. He was glad it happened so long ago, before Bulma’s memory had started to fail. Vegeta never saw her like this… and for that Goku was grateful. At least he didn’t have to go through the pain of losing his wife. “Listen… I have to go Goku, I’m sorry. But I’ll come up and see you soon, okay? I’ll catch up with Goten. I’ll… keep you updated on Mom, but… it’s probably best you don’t call her anymore.” “Yeah…” Goku mumbled. “… Alright.”

I brush my teeth, I put the cap back on I know you hate it when I leave the light on I pick a book up and then I turn the sheets down. And then I take a deep breath and a good look around

Goku didn’t do much in the afternoon. He did as much exercise as his body would allow, but he had to abandon his routine not long after starting. Even with his afternoon meds, a lot of things were too much. He hated this. He hated getting old. He hated his weak, fragile body. He hated the pain he woke up to every day; he hated the pain he got when he moved. He hated that his meds didn’t even take it away, they just dulled it a little. Made it a little easier to deal with, but it wasn’t gone. It still stopped him training or walking or bathing himself. Gohan sent him nice girls to take care of him, and he was thankful for that, but he hated the fact that he needed them. He shouldn’t need them. He was… Son Fucking Goku! He was a god damn hero; he’d saved the world! They all did! Him, and Vegeta, and Krillin, and Yamcha and Master Roshi and Tien and Hercule… where were they all now? Gone. With one sickness or another, in one year or another. They all got old, they all died… and they’d all left Goku alone. … And maybe that was right. Hell, he’d done his fair share of selfishness. He’d shown up late or not at all, he’d passed on the opportunity to visit or call, just to see how his friends were doing… So many times he could have seen people, and he just… didn’t. And he wasn’t entirely sure why now. What had he been doing instead? Training. Trying to be better than the rest, better than he already was. … But where had it got him? All that training he’d done, all that power he’d had… where was it now? Goku couldn’t even stretch without his back breaking. He couldn’t power up, because the meds he took to manage the pain made him so damn drowsy he couldn’t control his ki. He was… just a ghost of what he was, and he had nothing to show for it. He should have more memories of his friends. He should have seen them more, while he still could. But, if he could go back… hehe. Goku chuckled slightly as he thought of it. He knew what he’d do. He’d do it all exactly the same. That’s how goddamn selfish he was. He’d train to break that limit, he’d take that impossible challenge, he’d have that sparring match with gods… because that was what he enjoyed. And his life now… that was the price he had to pay. And he was prepared to pay it, over and over again. It was just how things were.

Anyway… Goku shouldn’t grumble. Goten would be here any minute now; he was coming to visit. Goku was looking forward to it; he hadn’t seen Goten in a while. Not Gohan either, actually. Gohan was busy with work a lot, and Goten… busy with girls, Goku supposed. Hehe. Sort of like his father. It was kind of nice… even though he hadn’t been around for the first few years, Goten had still turned into his old man. How many times had Goten cancelled on him now? Or showed up late. Because he was with a girl, or trying to be with a girl. Goku wouldn’t have it any other way. In fact, he laughed when he thought about it. Even though it hurt to laugh, he sat in his chair and laughed anyway. “Good on ya, kid.” Goku chuckled to himself. Chase the girl, take the challenge… what else was life about? Whatever Goten did it was right, so long as he was enjoying himself. Goku sure hoped he was…

Click. The door opened, and Goku heard footsteps, followed by a frantic voice. “Hi Dad!” It wasn’t Goten’s… but Gohan’s. Huh. Goten didn’t make it after all… “Goten couldn’t make it today – did he call?” “No…” Goku answered. He heard Gohan sigh, and he saw the younger man enter the room. “I told him to call you.” Gohan huffed. “Oh, uh… well, the phone might be broken.” Goku reasoned. “No – look, you didn’t put it back right!” Gohan adjusted the phone, which Goku had accidentally left slightly off the hook. So Goten couldn’t have gotten through even if he’d tried. “Is your cell on?” “Ah, I dropped it in the bedroom.” Goku said. “I don’t need it. It’s probably on silent anyway.” “You do need it.” Gohan scolded. “What if you need to call us? Or if we need to get a hold of you?” “Sorry, Gohan…” Goku uttered, feeling slightly guilty. Gohan seemed worried… worried, and stressed. He’d walked in with a briefcase, which he’d hurriedly set down on the sofa. It was probably crammed with work Gohan had to do… he shouldn’t be wasting his time on his old man. “It’s alright.” Gohan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “To be honest, I don’t see why he couldn’t just come - - anyway!” He quickly dismissed the thought, realising it might make Goku feel bad. He didn’t want Goku to feel like Goten didn’t care – because he did care! He was just… easily distracted. But Goku understood that. Gohan didn’t realise he understood, but he did. “Did you eat lunch?” “I managed something.” Goku answered. “Don’t go making me anything, Gohan. I got Sara coming tonight.” “Oh, what did you think of her?” Gohan asked, making his way into the kitchen. “I know you were fond of Hana…” “Yeah, but she really wanted that job.” Goku smiled. “I’m glad she got it.” “Yeah… me too.” The sound of the kettle boiling. “You want a drink, Dad?” “Nah, I’m good.” “You take your meds today?” “Yep.” Goku smirked slightly. Fussing, just like his mother… Goku and Chichi had raised Goku and Chichi. Soon came the sound of the sink and cupboards, things being cleaned and tidied and organised… he’d only come round to check on Goku and have a drink, and now he was cleaning the house. “Alright, well… listen, do you mind if I do a little work here? I’ll be with you right away, I just need to… I’m sorry, Dad –” “It’s fine!” Goku insisted, waving a hand. “You didn’t even have to come, you know. You don’t have to fill in for your brother.” “Oh, it’s not like that! I wanted to see you anyway!” Gohan insisted, as politely as ever as he walked back into the room. He set his tea down, and opened his briefcase and began rustling through his things. “I just got this put on me last minute, that’s all. It won’t take me a moment.” “Gohan, it’s alright. I’m in no hurry.” Goku spoke. “I’m kind of tired anyway.” “Your meds…?” “Yeah.” “I can give the doctor a call, maybe they can prescribe something better –” “Heh. Nah Gohan, it’s okay.” Goku sniggered. “There’s no pill for old age.” “… I guess not.” Gohan answered quietly, suddenly distracted. He started to look worried… “… Shit.” He spoke. “I could have sworn…” “Lost somethin’?” “A document… I thought I brought - - I must have left it in the office.” Gohan ran his hands through his hair, growing more panicked by the second. He really needed that document, Goku could see. But he didn’t want to abandon his dad. He was a good kid… “Go and get it.” Goku smiled. “Go on. You got all this work to do – you shouldn’t be wasting your time with me. Don’t worry about me.” “It’s not a waste!” Gohan insisted. He looked at Goku. “Dad –” “Gohan, it’s okay!” Goku laughed. “Really, kid. It’s fine. You don’t have to be here, if you got other things to do. It doesn’t mean you boys don’t love me, it just…” He looked at Gohan, and offered a sincere smile. “Just means I’m not the only important thing in your life.”

Gohan’s face softened, and his shoulders relaxed. He knew what his father meant. He was sort of talking about himself. How he’d been… … He’d loved his family, he really had. Gohan knew that. But… he’d loved other things as well. And sometimes those things got more attention. … And now here Gohan and Goten were doing the exact same thing. It wasn’t right, was it? Gohan felt bad. But… he really did have to go. He had to get this work done. And he was grateful to his father for understanding. “… Thank you.” Gohan sighed. He made his way over, and carefully gave Goku a hug. He didn’t hold him too hard, aware of how fragile Goku’s body could be these days. To think those arms had carried Gohan off to bed, or pulled him from a waterfall or… near enough beaten the crap out of him in training. Now… Goku couldn’t hold Gohan on his shoulders anymore. He couldn’t carry him anywhere, probably couldn’t even beat him in an arm wrestle. It was strange, and cruel… but it was life. “I’ll come by tomorrow morning.” “You don’t have to –” “I want to.” Gohan insisted. “I’ll bring Goten as well.” “Alright.” Goku patted Gohan’s back, squeezing him as much as he could. “I’ll look forward to it.”

Put on my pj’s and hop into bed I’m half alive but I feel mostly dead I try and tell myself it’ll all be alright I just shouldn’t think anymore tonight ‘cause

Well… what to do now? He had another couple of hours to kill before Sara came back. Goku strained himself to get up, and make his way over to the phone, just to see if he had any messages. He just had the one. “Hey Dad, it’s me. Ummmm… sorry, I’m not gonna be able to come today – but maybe tomorrow? I’ll come with Gohan, I hope that’s okay. Sorry to let you down, I’ll make it up to you! See ya tomorrow. Behave yourself!” Hehe… Goten. Goku chuckled, a genuine smile coming across his face. Behave himself? It wasn’t like he could do much else! He would just sit in his chair, watch TV… sit in his chair some more. Eat. … And that was his life.

Dreams last so long Even after you’re gone I know that you love me And soon you will see You were meant for me And I was meant for you

Seeing Sara had been nice. She’d come again at dinnertime, to make sure Goku was fed. She’d done the dishes and cleaned the house. He’d told her not to bother, but she’d insisted, reminding him it was what she was paid for. Well… that was true. He didn’t make much mess anyway; it wasn’t too much work for her. She’d stayed for a while though, talking to him. He was her last client of the day, and she said she didn’t have to rush home… honestly, Goku thought she probably felt sorry for him. He’d mentioned about Goten cancelling. He hadn’t meant to make her feel bad, but… she’d probably stayed because of it. He was fine though, he’d told her. He would see Goten tomorrow, and he believed he would. Goten was pretty good at turning up to the second meetings. So… that was something to look forward to. Now, though… off to bed. Goku slowly and steadily made his way into his bedroom, turning the lights off as he passed them. He got himself dressed, slowly and steadily. Very slowly. The pain was still strong. He’d had meds with his dinner, but he took a couple more. Just a couple. He wasn’t supposed to, but to hell with it. He’d done it before. At least his useless body could still handle the drugs. Sometimes he thought about taking more than he should; more than he could handle… enough to… make him leave. But… that wouldn’t be fair. All he’d done his whole life was leave. Not forever, and sometimes not for long at all. But… his days of going were gone. Now, he had to stay. Even if he didn’t always like it. He owed it to his family at least, and to Hana, and Sara… they would all be upset if he decided to call it quits now.

So he finished getting dressed, in slow motion and frustrated, and he lay down in his bed, and he said goodnight to the picture of Chichi beside him… and he hoped that he could at least dream about her.

Yeah, you were meant for me And I was meant for you

[sunmoonandeddie]

little ballerina (6/16)

pairing: peter parker x reader

word count: 2,435

summary: After The Snap was reversed and the world went back to normal, Natasha Romanov had one request of her team: to infiltrate and destroy the Red Room.

chapter warnings: Dirty words, violence

masterlist

a/n:  Let me know what you think!

The first of the nightmares came after Wanda's little intrusion.  You had spent hours in the training room with Bucky, both working with the punching bag and doing hand-to-hand combat.  Even with his metal arm, you found that he was having trouble subduing you.

You found it amusing.  Bucky ended up getting so frustrated and flustered that by the end, you were winning almost every match.

Training with Bucky had been nice.  For one, he didn't judge you.  With the others (excluding Natasha), you had felt like they were watching you like some sort of experiment.  Like you were a volcano about to erupt.  Granted, they weren't exactly wrong, and you knew that after what happened with Wanda earlier that day, they'd be watching even closer.  But Bucky wasn't like that.  He understood exactly where you were coming from and he treated you like you were more than just a prisoner.

The others might say they had rescued you, but the locked doors and cuffs that they had only taken off that morning in the lab said otherwise.  You hadn't even been outside since you had tried to run.

You had eaten dinner with the group that night, though Wanda kept a wide berth.  It wasn't hard to since you stuck to a little corner in the kitchen while the others mostly chose to eat on the couches on the other side of the communal area.  You had picked at your Caesar salad, not having much of an appetite.

You had headed to your room immediately after, leaning against the door and sinking down to the ground.  You felt so overwhelmed and all you wanted to do was curl up under the covers of that stupid bed and never come out.  Pushing your hair back away from your face, you tried to ignore the burning behind your eyes that threatened tears.  "Don't cry.  You don't fucking cry," you muttered to yourself.  "You don't cry.  You're better than that."

You jumped as you heard—and felt—a knock on the door.

"Y/N?"

Fighting back a groan, you pressed the palm of your hands into your eyes, still fighting back tears.  "Yeah?"

"You okay?"

Fucking Peter.  Fucking Peter and his naive, happy-go-lucky, "everything's gonna be great" attitude.  As much as you appreciated him checking up on you and bringing you your Chinese the night before, you didn't need a babysitter.  In the back of your head, you knew that it wasn't fair for you to be hating on Peter (if only in your mind), but you needed an enemy at this very moment that you could be angry at.  If you were angry, you could keep yourself from crying.

You let your head fall into your palms.  "Yes, Peter, I'm fine."

There was a pause, but you knew he was still standing on the other side of the door.  "... Are you sure?"

"I'm fucking fine," you bit out.

You felt a soft vibration as he let his hand fall against the door.  "Okay...  I'm, uh...  I, I'm here if you need to talk."  You bit your lip, waiting for him to walk away.  "My room is the one with the MIT sticker on it."

You don't know how long you sat there before he finally walked away.  Once he was gone, you found yourself crawling under the covers.  You tossed and turned for what felt like forever before eventually falling asleep.

You were in the dance studio with Miss Claudia.  "Again," she ordered, and you launched into an allégro.

But nothing felt right.

It felt like needles were shooting into your feet with every jump.

"Wrong!"  Miss Claudia was walking in a circle around you, the concerto that was playing changing into a minor key.  It took on a dark, foreboding turn as she continued to yell at you.  "Wrong!"

You kept your eyes on the mirror, your arms held in a first.  Miss Claudia walked behind you and you jumped as she came back around as Madame B.  Her voice became much harsher as she scolded you.

"Wrong!"  You yelped as she yanked on your arms, pushing it into a position that hurt like hell.  You were already trying to ignore the pain in your feet.

The older woman suddenly grabbed you and threw you to the ground.  As you lay there, she grabbed one of your feet, pulling a hammer and nails out of nowhere.  Tears were streaming down your face as she placed a nail against the platform of your pointe shoe.  She ignored your pleas as she raised the hammer, slamming it down so that the nail drove through the box and into your toes.

It took you almost thirty seconds to realize that the bloodcurdling scream that was ringing through the air was coming from you.

You clawed at the floor, desperately trying to get away as she grabbed the other foot.  Tears were falling uncontrollably now and you let out another scream as she pounded a nail into your other foot.  Once she let go, you crawled desperately towards the door, getting up on your hands and knees.

You could hear her coming towards you, her heels clicking menacingly on the floor.  She dragged you backwards by your ankle.  "Get up."  When you shook your head and didn't move, Madame B yanked on your hair and pulled you to your feet.  "Again."

The music started again from the radio in the corner as you tried to do the allégro.  Your cheeks were stained with tears as searing pain shot up from your feet to your legs.  In the mirror, you could see the blood soaking the formerly pristine, pink pointe shoes.  You felt it squishing between your toes.

"Wrong!"

Her voice continued to ring in your ears as she circled around you.  You danced for what felt like hours before she stopped in front of you.  She raised a lighter in front of you, flicking it open so that the flame was right in front of your nose.  "Again."  Your heart was racing as you went through the allégro again and again and again.

But it didn't stop her from taking the lighter and setting your leotard alight.  The flames engulfed you as you sobbed, but you couldn't stop dancing.  Smoke was filling your lungs, and you still couldn't stop.

You jolted awake, a scream still on your lips as you felt someone shaking you.  You thrashed violently against their grip until the person let you go.  Trying to catch your breath, you backed up against the headboard as your vision adjusted to the darkness of your room.

Peter was sitting at the end of the bed.  He was trying to catch his breath, just like you, his puppy dog eyes wide.  "Y/N...  Are you okay?"

"What are you doing in here?"  You swallowed the lump in your throat, grimacing as you felt just how sweaty you were.  You had been wearing Peter's sweatshirt for the last two days and all the sweat made it even more disgusting.  Looks like you were actually going to have to wash it.

He settled down onto the bed, realizing you were okay enough to question him.  "I could hear you screaming from my room."

You pushed your hair back from your face, closing your eyes.  "How did you hear me and no one else did?"

Peter shrugged a little as he sat there.  "Most people here are on some form of sleep meds.  The only time we're supposed to wake each other is if there's an emergency—like, a, a world's gonna end type of emergency—or if someone's having a nightmare."

"So why aren't you on medication like the rest of them?"  Pulling your knees up to your chest, you watched him closely.  He didn't seem tired in the least bit.

"I usually am.  I was just working on some new tech."

"I thought Stark was the tech genius here."

He smirked a little at you, scooting to be a little closer.  You were giving him an inch and he was going to take a mile, if he could.  "I, I was his intern for three years before going to college.  I made all the webbing for Spider-Man myself."

Your head cocked to the side.  "Spider-Man?  Is that your superhero thing?"

Peter seemed shocked when he realized that you had no idea who he was, and probably didn't know much about the others either.  "You, you don't know who I am?"

You felt yourself get a little defensive as you sat up, a scowl on your lips.  "I've been at the Academy for eight years.  There's not much communication or news coming from the outside."

He reached out to you, as though trying to get you to not shut him out again.  "No, no!  I'm sorry.  I forgot."  He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment as you relaxed once again.  "I didn't become Spider-Man until about seven years ago and I wasn't an official member of the Avengers until, like, a year later."

"Oh.  What do you do?"

Surprised, Peter pointed at himself.  "What...  What do I do?"

Nodding slowly, you waved your hand towards him.  "Yeah.  You're a superhero.  What do you do?  Captain America has the whole super soldier thing.  Iron Man has the suit.  The Hulk is, well, you know.  What do you do?"

You could see him debating with himself as he stood up off the bed, rubbing his hands on his sweatpants.  "Uh...  I..."  He looked around your room, glancing at the different walls.  You were about to ask him what exactly he was looking for when he suddenly walked over to your wall and just... started climbing it?  You watched with wide eyes, pulling your knees up against your chest again.  He crawled across the ceiling and to the other wall, before standing back on his feet.  "I don't have my, my, my web shooters on me, but I can, uh, I can swing myself from building to building."

"You don't strike me as the superhero type."

It wasn't meant to be mean or condescending in any way, but you realized how it must've sounded as soon as Peter's cheeks flushed a dark red.  "Why, uh...  Why not?"

You scooted more towards the end of the bed, briefly noting that your sheets were soaked with your sweat.  "I didn't mean it that way.  I just thought...  You seem like the type to be in the lab, not throwing yourself into danger all the time like the others."

He looked down at his feet, his arms crossing over his chest.  "What can I, What can I say?  I'm the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man."

"But you started all this when you were fifteen?"

Peter nodded, letting out a long huff of air.  "Yeah, yeah, I did."

You just looked at him for a long moment.  Just looked.  Your eyes took all of him in as you processed all this new information.  "Why?"

"Why what?"

Rolling your eyes, you sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed.  "Why did you become a superhero at fifteen?  That's a lot of responsibility and danger for a teenager."

He didn't even really have to think.  He shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes meeting yours.  "I was bitten by a radioactive spider in a lab.  I don't know why it was me, of everyone that was there in the lab that day, but it was.  The universe chose me."  He sat on the bed next to you, looking down at the ground.  "I'm from New York City.  It's a rough place, to say the least, and, and one day I...  I, I, I had a way to do something about it.  So I've never looked back."

"So you just decided that you were going to spend the rest of your life saving other people?"

All he did was nod.

You hadn't expected that from him.  Hell, earlier you had just been bashing him in your head for being happy-go-lucky, and you had no idea that he was carrying such a huge weight on his shoulders.

He was your age and was saving people without a second thought for his own life or safety while you had spent eight years training to be an assassin.  You had killed fourteen of your friends.  On purpose.  Your heart-to-heart with Bucky came back to mind as the gravity of it all suddenly hit you.

You felt that stinging behind your eyes as your hands fiddled in your lap.  Clearing your throat, you glanced over at him and then back at your hands.  "You're a good person, Peter."

The weight of the conversation hung in the air.  It was a long moment before Peter stood, motioning to the bed.  "Do, Do you wanna take a shower?  I can, uh, I can change your sheets for you while you're in there."

Nodding, you stood up and padded over to the bathroom after grabbing an extra change of clothes, taking a last glance at him before heading inside and shutting the door.  "F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you turn the shower on?"  Your voice was no louder than a whisper, but the A.I. heard you, and turned on the shower.

"What temperature would you like, Y/N?"

"As hot as it can go," you murmured, tugging off the sweaty clothing and pulling your hair out of the loose bun it had been thrown into.  Steam was already rising from the shower as you opened the glass door.  Wincing as the scalding water hit your skin, you turned your face up to the water and just let it soak over you.  You sat there for a few minutes before asking, "Is there anyway it can go hotter?"

"Are you sure, Y/N?" F.R.I.D.A.Y. asked, and you knew that if an A.I. could hesitate, she would be.

She?  Since when is F.R.I.D.A.Y. her own person?  You thought, before replying, "Yeah.  I'm sure."

Your body felt like it was on fire as the temperature of the water raised another few degrees.  Grabbing the soap, you tried to scrub yourself of the anxiety that your nightmare had given you.

You took so long in the shower that by the time you got out, Peter had changed the sheets and fallen asleep on the bed while waiting for you to come out.  There was a glass of water on the bed and a small bottle of melatonin.

Not wanting to wake him up after all he had done for you, you popped two of the melatonin before crawling into the bed and falling asleep to the sound of Peter's soft snores.