#i grew up comfortable with every question i asked entertained by two very smart parents. when a question can't be answered i feel dissonant

[xtodorcki]

Could you Maybe write a headcanon about Levi and erwin taking in the reader after her parents died where she is living with all the scouts/cadet corps and just Like them being her two fake overprotective dads? (You Can add a Lil erenxreader if u want)

If you dont wanna write this thats totally fine, ily <3

“Father Figure,” Erwin x Levi Headcanon

I actually really like this ideaaaa, I can imagine Levi and Erwin being over protective dads.

Summary: headcanon of Erwin and Levi as overprotective dads after they take baby you in after your parents die.

Warnings: noneee, just fluffy dads

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Levi:

When Levi found you in the streets, skinny, on the brink of death and crying after witnessing your parents die from starvation, it had gave him horrible flashbacks from when he was in that same position.

He didn’t hesitate to take you in and raise you as his own, you even got comfortable enough to call him dad but they were times when you would switch between dad and Levi which he didn’t mind.

Once you became of age, you had tried to convince Levi to let you join the scouts but he continuously said no which made you bicker with him.

You definitely got your stubbornness from him 100%. The small arguments between you two were entertaining like two children fighting over the last slice of pizza until he would get irritated and made you clean.

When the new set of cadets came in, it wasn’t long that you became close friends with Eren, Armin and the rest of them since you were around their age but Levi had always tried his best to keep you separated from the cadets, it only made your dream to become a scout increase.

“When are you going to let me join the scouts, dad?” You brought the topic up once again, he was sure this was the millionth time this month you had brought it up but he was obviously being dramatic

“I’m not letting you join, Y/N. That will always be my final answer.” The annoyance in his tone was obvious and he had stared over at you, making you let out a groan.

“Why are you so afraid of me joining? I learned from the best and you’re keeping me trapped in here like a dog!” You certainly pushed his buttons even to the point where he would ask himself why he picked you up and took you in but of course he never regretted that decision, he loved you like his own.

“I’m not letting you go out there and risk your life under my watch, Y/N.”

“As if you don’t leave me here to risk your life and leave me wondering if I’ll become an orphan again.”

Levi grew quiet, he knew you were right but he never really went deep into thought about it and he couldn’t help but feel guilty once he saw it from your point of view.

“I doubt I’ll be dying anytime soon, too good at my job.” He said with a snarky attitude, his eyes moving back down to the papers in front of him.

“Doesn’t matter, you shouldn’t be hypocrite. I want to join the scouts.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I said no.” Levi shot you a hard glare, making you close your mouth and breathe in through your nose.

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore, get out of here and go do your chores.” He simply said, using his hand to gesture you off and that had made you upset, mumbling words he couldn’t make out while you stepped towards the office door.

“Hey,” He spoke up again, making you turn around and you had gotten scared that he heard your mumbles and was probably going to add more chores to your list.

“I love you, alright? I’ll think about it.” Levi had a huge soft spot for you, his heart weighed heavily to even think about his own child joining the scouts. He wanted you to be somewhat normal and live a normal life.

“Really? You’re serious?”

“I might be but I can’t promise that I would agree to it, Y/N.” He said in a grumpy tone, a groan leaving his lips when you ran over to hug onto him.

“Thank you, dad.”

You certainly kept Levi on his toes and always gave him headaches to the point where he would miss the times you were young, adorable, didnt argue back, cuddling into him as you slept instead being a pain in the ass teenager but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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Erwin:

Erwin had somehow ended up at the scene. After wall Maria had fallen, they went through to try and find any survivors and that’s when his laid upon you. You were in your crib, quiet and completely unharmed.

Both of your parents were nowhere in sight and he had feared that they’ve been eaten by the Titans. He didn’t want to take you in, he had tried to fight the urge to have his emotions connected to his job but once he lifted you up in his arms, your big eyes instantly melted his heart.

After that, you grew up under his roof and under his supervision. It had taken him years for him to be comfortable enough to tell you that he wasn’t your real father and that your real parents had died, you were around 16 when he first sat you down and told you.

But that didn’t change the love you had for your father, you were very close with him and he made sure to be the best he could be, better than his dad at least.

Since you had lived with Erwin, you were always around the scouts and the cadets, you even had a small crush on Jean and once your father found out, he definitely started playing the overbearing dad to the point where he would watch you closely and even told the scouts to not entertain you.

That really didn’t stop you nor Jean from being friends and even flirting here and there but Jean would get scared every time Erwin would give you that deadly look.

After that, he tried to keep you away from the cadets/scouts and gave you more chores and stuff to do like go into town to shop, to do things where it would be far from the cadets and he would even force you to eat in his office with him instead with the others, it had gotten on your nerves but you were smart enough to not talk back and defy him in anyway, Erwin can definitely be harsh with punishments and treat you like a cadet.

But Erwin also was too soft when it came to you, he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you or make you hate him because you grew up to be a well grounded person, you grew up around the sweetest and smartest guy from the scouts and you learned hell of a lot from him.

“I seen you with Jean today.” Erwin spoke as he ate his food and you tried to avoid the topic, acting as if you were just asking him questions.

“I was just asking him where the cleaning supplies were, he had them last.” You cleared your throat, the little lie he can easily see right through.

“You don’t have to lie to me, I raised you better than that, Y/N.” He raised his eyebrow, giving you another chance to tell the truth.

“Sorry, dad.” You mumbled, picking at the food on your plate to keep yourself distracted from not making eye contact with him.

“Look, I hate to be the bad guy here. I didn’t want you to be so involved with the scouts like this but I guess it was unavoidable when we live here. I just don’t want you to involve emotions when it’s not promised that he’ll make it back alive every mission.” Erwin had to be nice, only for your sake but deep down he wish he could lock you away from all the cadets.

“You’re acting as if I’m about to marry him.” You snort out a laugh, looking up at him and he chuckled.

“Certainly not, that would be over my dead body before I allow that to happen.” He admitted, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“You’re so dramatic. I’m not dating Jean.” You rolled your eyes, he was always dramatic you thought. He always watched over you like a hawk and you never really understood why when you were perfectly safe living inside the base.

But deep down Erwin always feared that he would end up losing you. Even though he always told himself, no emotions or personal feelings when it came to joining the scouts and becoming commander but now his life revolved around you, making sure you were safe, healthy and happy above all but what he also feared the most is that he won’t make it home one day to you and that’s why he’s always so loving and over protective.

That’s why he constantly wants to spend time with his only child, he didn’t want you to feel how he felt when his father disappeared. So when it came to you hanging out Jean a little too much, the father instinct kicked in and he tried to get between, afraid of losing you to not only Titans but to another man.

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I hopeeeeee this turned out good for you🥺🤧 feel free to send in more requests.

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

[camxnoel-updates]

[PREVIEW OF CAMERON’S INTERVIEW FOR GRUMPY MAGAZINE]

Cameron Monaghan reflects on his rise to stardom with Liana Liberato

  Cameron Monaghan is the type of actor who has proved throughout his many years working in the industry that he can do it all. As he just turned 27, Monaghan has claimed his own space at the forefront of a generation of actors committed to telling stories that are relevant to today’s society. Growing up in Florida, Cameron has been climbing the steady road to success for over 20 years, diving into television, film, and now video games. He was that deeply disturbed kid in cult sitcom Malcolm in the Middle, and had screen time with Hollywood royal Meryl Streep in The Giver. But his major break came when he was cast as Ian Gallagher in Showtime’s Shameless and became a fan favorite. Since, his outstanding performances have been critically acclaimed, including his interpretation of “the Joker” in FOX’s Gotham.

At the beginning of the lockdown, Cameron connected over the phone with his longtime friend Liana Liberato — who he came up in the business with — to recall their first audition together and reflect on his eclectic career — discussing his most iconic roles in TV shows Shameless and Gotham, as well as his recent acting experience on video game Star Wars: Jedi Fallen Order. It was 2PM in Los Angeles — on the other end of the line, Cameron cheerfully greeted his pal with a mischievous ‘‘Liana, it’s 2:03PM. This is unacceptable and so unprofessional.’’ The actress apologized before adding, ‘‘Do you regret asking me to do this?’’ This was a clue about their great complicity, and Cameron’s warm and jovial personality — to the point he started flipping the interview to question Liana as well.

On growing up in Florida, influences, and first approach to acting…

“I was very young when I started. My mom was a single parent who worked two jobs, so she did her best for me. But that meant that I spent a long time by myself, entertaining myself with movies and TV. I was a hyper kid and I didn’t really focus well, so my mom got me involved with local community theater and commercials. She needed something to put my energy to and I actually really enjoyed doing it. […] I grew up in the 90s and one of the movies that blew my mind as a kid was The Matrix. I would play on the playground, pretending to be the characters from it. We would fight each other — which we probably shouldn’t have done. As for actors, I was very strange. I really liked Christopher Walken, Steve Buscemi, Gary Oldman, William H. Macy — who I actually ended up working with for many years on Shameless.”

On his evolution as an actor…

“When I was younger, I was so much more interested in how the plot functions, and some of the mechanisms of that. As I get older, what interests me more is humanity, how characters interact, what it’s trying to say about how we relate to each other, how characters change over the course of the story. I think that a really well-written relationship, saying something interesting about a person’s morality, or what they do in a time of struggle, is so much more interesting to me now than any amount of tools or special effects. […] I love when you’re able to have a story where the characters are so well-defined. There’s something really enjoyable about that, and some sort of emotional catharsis in that. I feel like the reason why we do our job, why we become activists or artists, is to express the stuff that is somewhat broken or challenging.”

On signing onto Shameless at 15 and evolving with a character for a decade…

“I had a pretty even ranking of success. I wasn’t one of those kids who became really successful at a super young age and get all of this responsibility, money, and fame thrust on them at one time. I was lucky that I spent enough time around people who made smart decisions. Also, all the people who I worked with on the show were really supportive and interesting. I learned a lot from them too. We formed a little family who we’re all still tight with. We all support each other and call each other out when they’re making bad decisions. […] I still feel like I’m learning so much and growing as a person. Some of the times, the character was going through specific struggles and those struggles happened prior to me in my own life, or sometimes some of my own personal things were then reflected back within the character. Being able to put that and have a symbiotic relationship with your character over the course of the decade, it’s a really interesting exercise, and something that I’m lucky to be able to have done.”

On why Shameless is so important to today’s society…

“It’s interesting because when the show came on air 11 years ago, the landscape of American television was a little bit different. Now with all the streaming platforms, there’s so much more about family dynamics that are more uncensored, and speak more frankly about sexuality, poverty… When you’re 15-16 years old, talking really openly about things like sexuality, and maturing through adolescence, is an interesting thing. It was a little bit scary at first, but it was also something that I’m really happy to have been able to do. It allowed me to reflect on myself, learn, and become comfortable with who I am. […] I’ve heard from a number of teenagers who were gay, in the closet, or struggling to come to terms with certain things that my character or other characters in the show really reflected what they were going through. That’s always amazing to be able to hear about that.”

On taking on the role of the Joker in Gotham…

“A lot of times, I would finish up on the set of Shameless, get on the plane, land in New York, and literally go straight from the plane to work on Gotham. While I loved the Shameless set, crew, and the cast, it is nice to be able to always experience other things outside of it. You learn so much each time you step foot on a different set. […] When I filmed my first episode of Gotham, it was just a few years after Heath Ledger played the role in The Dark Knight and won the Oscar. He became the most iconic person to touch that role. That’s saying something considering he was following Jack Nicholson. No one else had played that role since then up to that point. That was intimidating, but it was also really exciting and a huge honor. I liked what they were trying to do with the character. It was something very different, and distinct from the movies and the media that had come before. It was a really unique opportunity.”

On diving into the world of video games with Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order…

“I had never done a video game before. I’ve played games for most of my life, and I’ve really appreciated how they’ve matured and grown over the last decade. Right now is an interesting time as an actor, because so much is based off of media that people are familiar with, and there’s a challenge. You have to take that, and make stuff that still feels human and still says something about you as a person. That’s my interest with it — trying to see if there’s something about the character in a story that raises interesting questions, because otherwise what’s the point of doing it? […] We had a lot of really great and wonderful conversations with the creative team, our writers, Lucasfilm story group, and all of the actors about what we wanted to say. So much of that story is about dealing with trauma, guilt, and things that were out of your control when you were younger or in your life. Pretty much every character in the story has experienced loss — how they grieve, or how they come to cope with the loss defines them as a character. Being able to access the story from that angle was what made me want to do the job.”

On dealing with the level of heartbreak and rejection inside the industry…

“There is a certain level of […] all of these things that you do have to learn how to deal with. Ultimately, it takes a certain level of acceptance and trust in yourself. I want to represent the things that I value, and the things that I find interesting and important. Right now too, with all the quarantine and the fact that we, as actors, don’t have the ability to work, it is very frustrating. It’s difficult, but I think all you can really do is try to either make opportunities for yourself, or work on yourself. I know for me, I’m writing and talking to friends who are trying to do stuff. […] I think that I’ll probably be an actor for the majority of my life, unless I get to the point where I either fall out of love with it, or if I feel like I can’t perform to the best of my abilities.”

FULL CONVERSATION AND STORY WILL APPEAR IN GRUMPY MAGAZINE’S ISSUE NO.16.

[unspokenfaith]

Maybe I Could Have Loved You

Pairing: JJ Maybank/Kiara Carrera Rating: T+ Word Count: 2719 Genre: Angst/Humor (a bit of everything really) Summary: Emotions run high the night before Kiara heads to Kook Academy. When the boys throw her a going-away party, JJ realizes something. But all the drinking and the somber occasion makes him wonder if what he's feeling is even real.

I'm sure this has been done plenty of times, but I was inspired by the "I know that door's locked because I've tried it” line and also the Jonas Brothers song "Make It Right." We love a slow burn and mutual misunderstanding.

AO3

If there was one thing JJ would not miss about Kiara once she went to Kook Academy, it was her need to perform damage control in unnecessary situations. The way she was acting, it felt more like an obligation than a party that he, Pope, and John B put together for her.

JJ thought it was a stupid idea to begin with. How different was it from any other day with the four of them at the Chateau? But when he offered his wisdom to John B and Pope, he was met with two pairs of glowering eyes, and the latter shoving stapled construction paper chains into his hands.

Anyway, it’s not as though he was going to say no to an occasion to drink, however extraneous it was.

Kiara scowled as she picked up a broken glass that Pope knocked off the counter after a theatrical response to John B’s joke. JJ made a mental note for tomorrow to say he told them so.

“I can get that, Kie,” John B said. “Just leave it. I’ll pick it up later.”

As he spoke, she was already standing over the trash can.

“Oh, God, did I do that?” Pope brought both his hands to his face, his mouth hanging open. JJ can’t remember the last time he saw Pope this drunk, if ever.

“Nope. It was the ghost,” Kiara said, washing her hands off in the sink.

John B’s eyes widened. “I have a ghost?”

“Hey, isn’t this, like, reverse feminism?” JJ interrupted.

Kiara looked at him like his head grew three sizes.

“What?”

JJ snapped his fingers. “Menism! This is menism. Girl cleans up after all the boys. It’s some 1950s bullshit. Menism.”

“You mean sexism?” Kiara said.

He slammed his hand on the table. “Damn it, Kie! You couldn’t let me have it? Not all of us are smart enough for Kook Academy.”

She shook her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear while busying herself with drying her hands off.

“Asshole.”

He couldn’t see her face, but he could’ve sworn he heard a smile in there somewhere.

“Kook,” JJ replied.

“Not yet she isn’t,” Pope said matter-of-factly with a finger pointed in the air. He blinked a few times as though he were struggling to stay awake.

Kiara reached across the counter to pull Pope’s shot glass away. “Maybe lay off a little. How many have you even had?”

Pope concentrated on his hands for a moment before holding up six fingers.

“Seven.”

“In his defense, I don’t think he’s ever done shots before,” JJ said.

“And that makes it better?” Kiara rolled her eyes, rinsing out the glass. She might as well put some gloves on and open the dishwasher at this point. At least Big John wouldn’t return to a pigsty when he came home.

JJ took another shot of Tito’s before his own glass could be revoked. “Do you guys think I could make it at Kook Academy?”

“Dude, you literally just said you aren’t smart enough,” John B said.

“I never said that! I said, ‘Not all of us are smart enough for Kook Academy.’”

“Hey, guys, it’s a full moon!” Kiara leaned over the sink, peering up at the sky.

John B continued, “So that ‘not all of us’ didn’t include you?”

“Are you using double negatives now?” JJ closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t think. Pope, back me up here, bro.”

But when he turned around, he found Pope lying starfish-style on the couch with his head hanging over the armrest. Maybe it was for the best that Kiara cut him off when she did.

“Poor baby,” JJ cooed before downing another shot.

The night air blew through the cracked window, teasing a September chill that caused Pope’s nose to twitch. JJ was sure he would be cold if he was sober, but all he felt now was a burning sensation in his throat and tingling skin that had nothing to do with the wind outside.

“Hey, where’s Kie?” he asked, suddenly very aware of her absence.

John B shrugged. “Bathroom?” He picked up a blanket off the floor and threw it over Pope who was now snoring for the first time in his life. And unfortunately for anyone in earshot, not quietly.

“Tell him to shut up, will you?”

JJ didn’t give John B time to respond because he pushed himself up from his stool and wandered out the side door, taking the bottle of Tito’s with him. Pope’s snoring faded to the background, so now all he could hear was the faint rustle of the trees and a chorus of crickets chirping from every corner of the yard. The water glistened in the dark, reflecting the stars like tiny shards of a broken mirror. In a few months’ time, it would all look different, and he was going to miss it.

“Hey, stranger.”

Kiara’s voice came from behind him. She was sitting on the roof of the Chateau with her arms hugging her knees. The full moon shone a pale light on her warm brown face, the late summer breeze gently blowing her hair.

“Kie? What the hell?” His jumbled brain couldn’t make sense of how she managed to climb up there on her own, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try it out for himself.

He stepped up to the porch and assessed the distance from the floor to the roof, looking for the easiest place to climb—with little luck. So he backed up, dropping the half-empty bottle on the grass, and took a deep breath.

“Okay, look out. Coming in hot,” JJ said, rubbing his hands together.

Before he could make a run for it, Kiara cleared her throat and pointed to the other side of the front door at a ladder leaning on the rooftop.

“As entertaining as that would’ve been, I’d rather not have you die on my account.”

“Oh, excuse me. I’ll go die on someone else’s then,” JJ said, holding his hands up. “I saw that ladder by the way. I was just trying to be chivalrous.”

“Uh huh.” Kiara grinned.

When he picked up the Tito’s and walked over to the ladder, she added, “Can you maybe just leave that there?”

JJ waved her off. “Nah.”

With one hand, he pulled himself up the first few rungs, then threw his other arm up in the air.

“Look at me now!” he shouted to the sky. But after nearly losing his footing, he grabbed the ladder with his other hand as best he could without dropping the bottle.

“Okay, seriously, stop.”

Kiara came to the edge of the roof, reaching out her hand to help JJ the rest of the way. Not that he really needed it. He was managing just fine on his own. Still, he mumbled a quiet “thanks” before falling back next to her, losing one of his shoes in the process. When he heard it hit the ground, he laughed to himself. Kiara studied him like he was a zoo exhibit.

“How many have you had?” she asked.

“Come on, Kie. That’s a personal question. A guy never kisses and tells.” He pressed a finger to his lips.

“Oh my god, JJ. I meant shots.” There was an impatient edge to her voice, but he thought he saw her blush. Must be the drinking goggles. “Like I would want to know that.”

“Well, well, well. Kiara Carrera, are you slut shaming me?”

She pushed his arm. “You know what I mean.”

“Mhm, sure.” JJ smirked.

“You are so...”

“Hot? I know. About time you said it.”

“I was going to say annoying. Thanks for proving my point,” Kiara said, grabbing the bottle as though one more sip was going to make him say something she wouldn’t forgive.

JJ laid his head back on his arms, strangely comfortable considering he was on a sloped roof. He’d take the crickets over Pope’s snoring if it meant sleeping soundly.

“What were you doing out here anyway?” he asked.

“I wanted to see the moon better. The trees were blocking it. See?” Kiara pointed to the moon, a white orb hanging over the water like a guiding light. She was right—a clear, uninterrupted view.

“What’s with you and moons anyway? Is this a Twilight thing? I thought you didn’t like those movies.”

Kiara rolled her eyes. “It’s not a Twilight thing. It’s astrology. A full moon usually means intense feelings or, like, an emotional climax.”

JJ raised a brow. “Climax?”

“I knew you were going to say that,” she muttered, pushing her hair behind her ear.

“Sorry. Continue with your...anthropology.”

It sounded like a load of bullshit to him, but watching her talk about the moon’s climax was the most emotion JJ had seen from her all day. If he had known, he would have hung a bunch of construction paper moons on the walls instead.

“It’s just that it had me thinking. The night before going to Kook Academy and everything.”

JJ’s brain was already muddled from the vodka. Trying to understand where she was going with this spun his thoughts in circles.

“And?”

“I don’t know. It’s just...I guess I’ve just kind of accepted that it was happening all summer without really thinking about it. Like, I don’t know how to feel about it now that it’s really happening, you know?”

He nodded, mostly because that seemed like the appropriate response. She wasn’t making sense, but what he did comprehend was something he had never, nor probably would ever experience. JJ had been in the same school system since he could talk, and he certainly wasn’t going to college someday. His entire life has been more or less the same. It was difficult for him to imagine how Kiara could be thinking, someone with years of opportunities waiting for her. Typically, the only choice JJ had to make was what he was going to eat for dinner that night.

“Hey, I wouldn’t even worry about it. I’m sure you’ll fit right in with all those idiots.” He knew immediately after he said it that it was an insensitive thing to say, even if it was honest.

Kiara glared at him. “I know you hate them, or resent them or whatever. I do, too. But my parents worked really hard for this, so I’m just going to suck it up and make the most of it, okay?”

“You make it sound like you’re going to prison,” JJ mumbled.

Part of him--whichever part that wasn’t completely wasted--told him he was being a jerk, but he didn’t know how to stop now. Maybe it was the liquor, or maybe it had only just dawned on him, too that this was her last night.

Much like going to school, or hiding from his father after a long night of drinking, or waking up to the sun rising over the marsh, he couldn’t remember a time where he didn’t have Kiara in his life.

It’s not as though it would be forever; JJ knew that. But he had become so accustomed to the four of them hanging out every day that he hadn’t imagined how things would change once she went to a fancy prep school. Would they see her on the weekends? Would they even have the same days off? Would she forget about them after weeks turned into months?

“Could you cut the crap? I know I’m really privileged. I’m a Kook. I have nothing to complain about. I get it. But could you please for one second just-”

“I don’t want you to go.”

The words came out before they even became a rational thought.

Kiara opened her mouth to respond, but nothing transpired. This had to be the most vulnerable JJ ever felt with her. No jokes, no banter, no crude comments that got under her skin. And now that he said it, he might as well unlock that door.

“I mean, I want you to go. I’m sure you’ll have the time of your life. And you deserve that. You really do. But we’re all going to miss you like hell.” JJ was standing on the rooftop now, and probably going to fall any second, but he didn’t care. “I’m going to miss you, Kie. You’re, like, my best friend in the whole world and you’re leaving tomorrow. And I...I think...maybe…”

“Okay, JJ, stop.” She laughed nervously, guiding him back down to his original spot. “I get it. You don’t think I’m going to miss you guys, too? Besides, I’ll be-”

“No! Just let me get this out. I really think I-”

“JJ, you really need to snap out of it,” she said firmly, grabbing his shoulders. “Before you say something stupid.”

“How do you even know what I’m going to say?”

“Because I know you. I’ve watched you do it so many times, especially when you’re…” She gestured vaguely. “Like this.”

JJ shook his head, searching for the right words. This wasn’t at all where he was expecting the conversation to go. The worst part was he had nothing to prove her wrong. Even if he didn’t always remember it the next day, he couldn’t deny that he’s had similar interactions with who knows how many girls.

“And that’s not a bad thing! But I just don’t want you to say something that you’ll regret tomorrow,” Kiara said. “Because you’ll be seeing me again after you wake up in the morning, and we just...really don’t need to go there.”

All he could do was nod, even though what he really wanted to say was “again” might not be for weeks. JJ looked anywhere but at her. If he could go back to mere minutes ago when the only wracking his mind was Pope’s obnoxious snoring, he would. Now he wasn’t quite sure where to go from here.

Kiara pulled him into a hug, his face pressed into her shoulder. They stayed like that for a few minutes, unspoken thoughts drifting away with the wind until they disappeared into the midnight sky. Maybe she was right. Maybe JJ did get caught up in the moment, and in his drunken state confused all of the emotions running through his head. Maybe the warm feeling in his stomach was just the alcohol and not Kiara’s hand on the back of his neck.

When she finally pulled away, a chill went down his spine.

“Well, I should probably get going. Big day and all tomorrow. But you…” Kiara poked his chest. “Need to go to bed. Or drink some water or something.”

JJ laughed, but it came out more like a cough. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll go do that.”

“I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Only now did JJ meet her gaze. Her eyes were glistening with moonlight, and something else, too.

“You’ll come crawling back.” JJ managed a smile. “You’re going to miss all our craziness.”

She laughed. “You’re not wrong. Plus, I don’t think you guys can survive a week without me.”

“You’re not wrong.”

The smirk on her face was contagious, and the breeze pushed her hair so that it clung to her mouth. Without really thinking, JJ reached across to tuck it back behind her ear. His hand lingered longer than necessary, and he didn’t realize he was staring until Kiara cleared her throat and stood up.

“Um...I’m going back down to say goodbye,” she said, handing him the bottle of Tito’s. “And don’t have any more of that.”

JJ saluted her. “Yes, ma’am.”

He watched her climb down the ladder, and couldn’t help but feel like she was avoiding his gaze on purpose. When she reached the bottom, he caught her sad smile before she disappeared through the front door.

After staring at the moon for a while, and thinking about emotional climaxes, and the inexplicable look on Kiara’s face when he touched her face, he fell asleep. She was right about one thing. When JJ woke up the next morning, he would regret a lot of what happened last night. But she was wrong, too. He couldn’t regret something he never got to tell her. Because when the sun rose and the rooster crowed, he didn’t feel any differently.

[swan--writes]

Okay,is kinda is a continuation of the pregnancy one, but, baby girl named Andromeda ( because star theme names) and she is pretty much jack jack from The Incredibles, so...BJ dealing with a half demon baby?

Disclaimer: I am not good with small ones. I do not spend time with small ones. Therefore, I am not the best at writing small ones.

Words: ~1,590

Most new parents are lucky to get four hours of sleep, if broken up sleep. New parents need to figure out schedules, make plans, have tired, stressed arguments, then look down at their progeny and realize it’s all worth it. In the end, new babies are sweet and soft and only doing what people do when they need something and don’t have the words to ask for it. Babies cry, and then they stop. But this…this was something else.

You had been around kids before. You had entertained them, answered their questions, babysat that one time. You knew enough to know that this was not normal.

Four months of interrupted sleep. Four months of destroyed bottles and messy bath times and screaming. Four months of loving your daughter – God, you loved her more than anything – and at the same time, knowing you were not remotely qualified to raise her. She was half demon, and while you still hadn’t figured out if she was the antichrist, you were positive that her lungs were stronger than yours would ever be.

Now, in the middle of the night, she was showing you just how strong they were. Still half-asleep, you reached over and tapped Beetlejuice with your whole hand. You were lying on your stomach and your eyes were only half-open in the dark of your room, but you felt the demon rise beside you. Though he lied in bed with you overnight, Beetlejuice didn’t actually need to sleep, so it was much easier for him to get up in the middle of the night than it was for you.

He had once told you that he took short naps, but mostly he watched you sleep. At the time, he had told you this with his sharp teeth bared in a pointedly demonic grin, but you had the sense that he was deflecting. Beetlejuice would never admit it if you asked him, but you thought that he mostly stayed with you for companionship and warmth.

Lately, he spent much more time out of your bed at night than in it. If you were honest, you missed him. Having another person to snuggle into when you woke up randomly at two in the morning was comforting. Having a nice, squishy person who loved to be close to you and who wouldn’t make you sweat even in the summer was an amazing feeling. But more than all of that, you loved having someone who would collect your screaming child from her crib and bounce her back to sleep so that you didn’t have to.

You were a terrible person.

Beetlejuice kissed your hand before stepping out of bed and quietly leaving the room. He didn’t need to fumble his way to the door or turn any lights on, and if you peeked out from under the covers you knew you would see his golden eyes reflecting yellow in the darkness. You pulled the blankets higher and rolled onto your side, facing away from the door. He closed it softly behind him.

In the last four months, you had lost track of the number of baby fires that Beetlejuice had put out. When your daughter grew fangs and started ripping her bottles apart, he would just snap his fingers and repair them. When her hair started turning colors that you couldn’t identify, he knew exactly what was wrong and how to fix it. When she kicked you in the side so hard she left a bruise, he acquiesced and the next night, she had stopped co-sleeping for good, which meant more getting up in the middle of the night for him.

Beetlejuice did it all with a smile. With an easy shade of green in his hair. He never showed any sign of being remotely tired. He was Super Demon Dad, here to change diapers and oversee naps. You were…not that.

Before your daughter, you could maintain your composure through almost anything. You were quiet and strong and smart–so smart. But parenting, you had found, was a very emotional thing and you knew you were falling behind. You loved her so much that you felt your heart might explode at times, but how could you properly parent a demon child when you were so completely human? And all of this raised the question: how much was Beetlejuice holding back from you?

If Beetlejuice could handle when your child broke her high chair, when she plunged forks into her own pudgy hand and laughed, when she somehow made it out of the crib that the Maitlands had restored for her, what else could he handle? What else could he do? How much of it had he suppressed in order to be your partner?

How could you parent a child who didn’t seem to take after you at all?

It took a while for you to realize that the screaming had subsided into soft cries, and it seemed as soon as you took noticed, they ceased entirely. When you turned your head toward the general direction of the nursery, you felt the cool air flocking to tear streaks you hadn’t realized were on your face. Groggy but wired, you stood. Your feet hit the floor softly, and you stepped out of your room. Beetlejuice, you realized, had left the door cracked. You did the same.

To your ears your footsteps were almost silent, though Beetlejuice always seemed to know when you were coming. Maybe he could hear you. You made your way down the hall, through the living room, and down the adjacent hall. Like your bedroom door, Beetlejuice had left the nursery door open a crack. Wiping tiredly at your eyes, you let out a breath through your nose and nudged the door open. You felt yourself soften as soon as you did.

The only light in the room was a dim little lamp on a table on the far wall. Beetlejuice stood in the middle of the room. He was barefoot and shirtless, wearing slightly faded black and white striped pajama pants. Your daughter was cradled against his chest and, from what you could see, fast asleep, hands unconsciously grasping at his pinkish chest hair. He was swaying and bouncing alternately, holding her as if she was made of ice. He looked up at you and frowned in clear concern.

“You okay, babes?” he asked, voice gruff but genuine. You nodded and pulled your sleeves down over your knuckles, folding your arms and drifting over to him. “You wanna hold her?”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to wake her.”

“Aw, you won’t wake her. Will she?” He looked down at your daughter’s head. “Will Mommy wake you? Nah…” Beetlejuice didn’t move to hand her off to you, though. He just kept bouncing.

Your daughter hadn’t lost any of her hair and even at four months it was thick and shaggy and, at the moment, the same color as yours. It seemed to be her resting shade. The moment she woke, it would begin to change. She only looked like you when she was sleeping. You felt another tear slip from your eye.

“Babes?” Beetlejuice murmured. You hadn’t realized he was looking at you. You wiped the tear away, feeling him subtly lean towards you.

“Sorry. I’m fine. Here, let me put her back in her crib.” You held out your arms. Watching you warily, Beetlejuice handed you your sleeping baby and went to stand by the door.

Stepping as softly as you could, you carried her lightly to her crib. With as much care as you could muster, you lowered her into the black and white nest that the Maitlands and the Deetzes had so carefully provided. She was almost out of your hands when she opened her eyes.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Instantly, you imagined the crying and the screaming. The full-throated wail that your daughter emitted every time she was disturbed. You would have to hand her back to Beetlejuice. How could you calm her? She shared your warmth, but you had no idea how to comfort a screaming demon child.

She blinked at you slowly, dark lashes against golden iris. Vaguely, you noticed that her eyes did not reflect the dim light like her father’s did. You were sure that she could feel the tension in your body as your fingers stilled under her. But then she smiled.

It was a small smile, the sleepy kind that let you know how instinctive it was. Her hair took on a faint blush. You felt your features melting. Pink. She went pink for you. Seconds later, she closed her eyes and settled into the mattress on her back.

After what felt like ten minutes, you let out the breath you had been holding and let go of her. The cool air flocked to your fingers when they left your daughter. You padded over to the door, Beetlejuice watching you the whole way. You simply leaned in and kissed his cheek. With a curious smile, he flicked the light switch and settled a hand on your back. He didn’t close the door, but you could still see the hand-painted sign he had made. Above your last name, your daughter’s name hung in black and green capital letters. Lydia Andromeda.

“You sure you’re okay?” Beetlejuice asked. Your gaze drifted over to Andromeda in her crib, lingering there before finally returning to him.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Yeah, I’m gonna be fine.”

Buy Me a Coffee?

[miss-smrxtiee]

-What is true happiness?-

Day 3- Happinesses

Pairing: Beckett Harrington x f!MC (Ellie)

Book: The Elementalists

Warnings: NSFW? I mean they get a little nakey ( for good measure?) also just fluff 🤗

Summary: Ellie is feeling an empty place in her heart saved for happiness, was it there all along? If so, who or what will make that appear to her?

———————————-

Authors note: Hey everyone! This is my first time participating in a monthly challenge but @julychoiceschallenge seemed way to good to pass up! I’m still pretty insecure about my writing but any feedback would be greatly appreciated!! ox 💖

————————————————————

Ellie sighed, “This is going to be one long semester...” she said while forcing her eyes from her window to the books and papers laid out in front of her. Ellie was an amazing student, but even the best still get stressed out sometimes.

Her classes with both Professor Kontos and Professor Englund has completely changed material and the whole class had piles of assignments to learn it. Ellie groaned and threw her head back on her pillow, her hand resting on her throbbing forehead, thinking how much fun it would be to hang out with her friends right now... but alas, work awaits...

The clock ticks by and Ellie’s thoughts don’t stop floating away, she hasn’t felt the same the past few days. “Everything is perfect, nothings wrong, why can’t I find anything to do that makes me happy, keeps me entertained, and why can’t I just be happy...” her thoughts told her.

Raise and Kane had been defeated, she had amazing friends, an amazing boyfriend, and she was happy around him, but she always thought she had to have something else that made her happy, for example.. a sport or hobby, she likes theif but it doesn’t start back for awhile since the teams taking a break.

She hears a faint, poliet knock at her door. “Come in!” She calls to the person on the other side, the door glides open to reveal her boyfriend, Beckett, on the other side. You knew he had a huge exam today and by the smirk on his face, you knew it went well.

“Helloo beautiful!” Beckett plops down on her bed and showers her with kisses all over her face, she lets out a giggle. “Looks like someone aced and exam.” She said in a teasing tone, Beckett’s smirk grew bigger “I finished first AND did every single extra credit work displayed on the paper!” He sounded ten times more cheery when he talks about his acedemic achievements. She knew his studying made him happy, and she couldn’t help but be envious of his love for knowledge. She was happy for him but her own happiness still felt empty for no reason...

“I thought you’d be in the dining hall with the others, but they said you didn’t show up, is everything ok?” Beckett’s voice was laced with concern, he was very protective and cared so much for her, she loved him and he loved her, everything was great between them.

“All this studying has me questioning my sanity, it’s a bit overwhelming and I decided to skip and eat some snacks I had here.” She said, still annoyed her head wouldn’t stop throbbing. “But my head is killing me..” She rubs her head with her hand and sighs.

Beckett taps his chin thoughtfully “Would you like to take a stroll by the merfolk lake? I heard the merfolk installed lights throughout the water to see the coral in the late evenings.” He asked. Ellie looked out her window at the clear sky with stars decorating it. “That sounds pretty amazing right now.” She says. “Perfect.” Beckett says while extending a hand, Ellie happily takes it as she walks out with Beckett hand in hand.

Their walk was leisurely but they soon reached their destination. What Beckett said was right, the water looked to be glowing. It was late enough on the school night that all the students had retreated to their respective dorms.

Beckett and Ellie find a rock on the edge of the lake and enjoy the tranquility of the area before Ellie breaks the comfortable silence. “Hey Beckett, do you think if you parents hadn’t really pressured you into being really smart, you wouldn’t be as excited about learning as you are now..?” Beckett was slightly taken back from her question, she never brought up his parents, but something seemed to be off and he decided to answer.

“Even before my parents pressured me, I still loved learning, so, yes I think I would still love it... why?” He said with a bit of curiosity in his voice. “Well... I realized I’ve never loved a hobby like how you like learning and I was just wondering what it felt like to really love something you do...”

The silence fell once more and Ellie’s back suddenly straightens up from where she’s sitting... “I have an idea..” she says, a grin spreading against her face. “Take of your shirt.”

Beckett goes white. “I- what. That doesn- wait. Huh?” He stutters over her question some more. “Take off your shirt.” She repeats in a, stern, confident voice. “Ellie! We’re in public! What if we get caught?!” He said. “Relax! I’m doing it too..” she winks and throws off her shirt, shoes, shorts, until she’s left In her under garments.

She slowly lowers herself into the water and lands on the shallow part with her upper body out of the water. She shivers at the temperature of the water and Beckett just stands there, mouth agape, staring at her. “Well? Aren’t you gonna join me?” She teases...

Beckett whips his head around, looking for anyone who might be watching and quickly follows suit. He swims over and raps his arms around her waist and shivers at the chilly water.

They stand there, getting used to the water, and right before Beckett began to speak, Ellie splashes him with a small wave of water and Beckett sputters while she laughs.

“Oh it’s on, Valentine.” He swoops her into his arms and throws her a couple feet away from him and quickly swims away.

“Hey! No fair!” She squeals as she wipes the water droplets left on her face.

The two continue their water fight, splashing, laughing, all until their breaths turn into sharp breaths and they just float in the water, staring at each other. They don’t know who started laughing first but in seconds they fell into giggles and laughter. After a few moments, Ellie paddles over to him and wraps her arms around his neck, his hands instinctively going to her waist. She feels content and realization washes over her, that she doesn’t need something to make her happy, she needs someone, and that someone was right in front of her.

“You make me happy, Beckett.” Now, that’s not a 100% normal thing to say, but for her it’s true. She’s realized she doesn’t need anything, or anyone else for happiness, she has Beckett, and that’s all she’ll ever need to be happy. She doesn’t need a hobby, she needs Beckett. He is her tomorrow, he is hers, and she is his, and as long as they have that, they don’t want anything else.

They shower each other with sweet, kind, happy kisses and get lost in the embrace. “You make me happy to, my princess...” Beckett himself has realized over the years that reading and learning isn’t all there is to life, and she helped him see that, she helped him have happiness and appreciation for life and its adventures. She’s his ray of sunshine and that sunshine is all he’ll need...

After a few more minutes they re-dress and walk back with a hope for a bright, happy, and sunny tomorrow...

Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading! I’m still new to writing but any support is greatly appreciated

[morkeus]

return on capital employed | l. mark

Mark Lee | 2.8K In which following your father for his business functions prepares you for more than just inheriting the company.

a/n: this was requested by @keemburley !! sorry it took so long. i’m not sure how to feel about this? i kinda rushed it a little because i’m still in the midst of exams but i needed a break. i’ll be writing more after next week cos i’ll be out of school finally :”) it’s not rly a story i’m proud of but i hope you like it :^)

p.s. not proofread!! 

AM 8:49

You loved your father. You really did. But whenever you were dragged to events by your father, you wished you had not loved him so much. Being a businessman, your father was constantly held down by work. However, he still made an effort to spend time with you, which was why you were made to follow him for business functions whenever you could. And that was exactly why you were sitting down watching your father and his business associates play golf on a Saturday morning when you could have been catching up on sleep.

While you burnt your weekdays attending lectures and tutorials in preparation of inheriting your father’s business, your weekends were spent following your father orientating yourself to the life that awaited you after university. It was difficult for you to appreciate a bunch of men hitting balls with sticks, trying to get them into holes. But the smile on your father’s face whenever he met your eyes made it a little more bearable.

Speaking of bearable, another reason why you found it within you to drag yourself out of bed every Saturday morning was your newly discovered eye candy who had just walked onto the course with a bunch of other men. Just a few weeks before, the new target of your admiration came waltzing in, his lean figure contrasting to the beer bellies the other businessmen had. His face was mostly covered by a cap all the time but from the hours of starring, you managed to catch multiple glimpses of his face and boy, was he a good-looking one. You could not really discern how old he was but considering the fact that he was playing golf instead of something like basketball, you guessed that he was probably slightly older than you.

Somehow, he made the game look more interesting and your gaze remained transfixed on his form, clad in some olive polo shirt and white slacks. He was always so focused on the game with his eyes squinting under the hot sun. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he was always immersed in the game and never spared you a glance, allowing you to secretly admire him. However, you realised that he was approaching you, his eyes fixed on you for the first time since he started playing golf on Saturday mornings.

“Ah Mr. Lee, this is my daughter. This is Mr. Lee and his son, Mark. We’re in the midst of discussing a possible merger between the two companies so you’ll be seeing them a lot more often.” While you were busy admiring the boy, whose name you now know – Mark, your father had ended the game and made his way over to you along with the Lees. You snapped out of your thoughts and introduced yourself to the father and son, feigning confidence. When your eyes met Mark’s, you almost got lost in them if not for the playful wink he gave you, hinting that he was well aware of your very blatant staring. Trembling slightly, you reached out to shake his outstretched hand as the grin on his face grew wider at your embarrassment. And that concluded your first meeting with Mark.

AM 11:42

“Y/N, I hope you've dressed appropriately!! The Lees are arriving soon,” Your mother shouted from the living room, drawing your attention from your phone. Your father was not kidding when he said that you would be seeing the Lees often because other than the usual Saturday morning golf sessions, your father invited the Lees over for meals often. Over the meals shared, you and Mark had gotten to know each other and even exchanged numbers. Turns out, he had also taken Business Management at the same university and was four years your senior. That meant that you turned to him whenever you had difficulty understanding certain concepts.

Just the night before, you were texting him some questions and he offered to help you with your essay after lunch. To say you had a crush on the boy was an understatement. You admired Mark. He was smart, good at golf (according to your father), filial and patient with you. Despite running a business with his father, he still took time out of his busy schedule to reply your lengthy messages, most of which was you whining about having to inherit the business from your father. He had somehow become this role model to you and he was basically everything your parents wanted you to be.

Despite it not being working hours, the fathers were constantly talking about business and the current financial situation, with Mark adding a comment once in a while. Sure, you had an interest in business and it was only a matter of time when you would join your father's company. However, that did not stop you from dozing off, embracing the food coma.

"Psst, munchkin..." just before your face hit the dining table, Mark, who sat beside you, started nudging you in the rib.

"Psst... wake up sleepyhead. You're going to hurt your neck like that," Mark whispered to you, drowning out the boring conversation your fathers were having. "How about this, let's take a shot every time one of them says the word "money"?"

That was the thing about Mark - despite being a good four years older than you, he still made an effort to connect with you, not behaving like the other snobby children of your father's business associates. His jokes were mostly business related or just terrible puns but you still appreciated his attempts to make you smile during the boring meetings your father dragged you to.

Turning around, you joked, "Gosh, it's too early for alco-" Your voice was stuck in your throat as you looked at his face. The playful grin on his face made him seem like a normal twenty-something year old, without the weight of a multinational company on his shoulders. You knew that Mark was attractive since the first day you met him but recently, there was something about the curve of his lips and the glimmer in his eyes that seemed to light up the whole world. As cheesy as it sounded, you never wanted to see the light in his eyes dim.

PM 3:27

Finishing your last lecture for the day, you made your way over to Lee Corporation to meet your father and the Lees for another discussion regarding the partnership between the two companies. With the details of the partnership being ironed out, the frequency of meetings between your father and the Lees increased. Thankfully, your lectures usually crashed with most of the meetings, sparing you from the agony. It had been more than a week since the last time you met the Lees.

Mark was getting busier because of the partnership and even though you missed his presence, you could not bring yourself to disturb him with questions you could have simply asked your classmates. Unbeknownst to you, your lack of texts made Mark think that he was of no help to you and that perhaps you were not interested in him.

For some odd reason, you started to feel nervous as you watched the numbers of the elevator increase. You and Mark were relatively close but you could not help but fiddle with your fingers, conjuring different conversations starters just in case it became awkward between the two of you.

"Good afternoon, CEO Mark Lee Min-Hyung," you teased as you pushed the large mahogany doors of his office.

You were not sure how you were expecting Mark respond but his response was definitely not one of the scenarios that played out in your head.

"Mrs. Kim, I thought I said- Oh? Y/N!" You watched the furrow between his brows disappear as the frown on his face morphed into a smile. Once again, you were charmed by the boy and it was almost as if you were standing before your crush in kindergarten.

"Yeah, good mor-afternoon, I'm an hour early," you remained rooted right in front of the doors not sure how to human.

Sensing your hesitation, Mark got up from his seat and approached your frozen figure. You could have blamed the five-hour lecture you had today for the short-circuiting of your brain but you were sure it was the way that Mark looked as removed his watch before making his way to you that caused you to become speechless.

"You alright, Munchkin? I haven't seen you in a while. For a moment, I thought you found younger friends to hang out with," the adoration in his voice along with his hand gently patting your head made you melt instantly. But you did not fail to hear the slight insecurity despite his joking tone.

Finding your voice, you reasoned, "Of course not! I just didn't want to disturb you. I'm sure our fathers are doing enough of that..."

Seeing you before him after more than a week, so understanding and so bashful made Mark's heart beat faster than he would have liked to admit. When he had joined the company, he knew that any chance of finding a girl would be difficult and that he would have to set that aside until he proved to his father that he was ready to run the business by himself. He even told himself that he would probably be thankful if his parents found him a girl instead so that he could focus on running the business.

But there you were. Some girl who spent every Saturday morning watching him play golf with bright eyes, becoming his daily source of entertainment with your incessant whining and his confidant whenever the weight of his parents' expectations wore him down. You were younger than him and maybe not the best advisor - you once told him to just imagine that every person around him was a potato to help with the nerves before a big presentation to investors. However, that did not stop the soft hums you gave in response to his problems from bringing him comfort. Who would have guessed that the next in line for Lee Corporation needed to call a university student the night before his presentations to ease the nerves?

PM 8:53

If you knew that the meeting was going to last the entire evening, you definitely would have packed some granola bars to snack on. What was supposed to have been a thirty-minute update on the marketing plan had somehow turned into hours of intense discussion. You tried your best to stay focused but the grumbling of your stomach distracted you and apparently, stole Mark's attention away from the big numbers leaving his father’s mouth.

“Dad, Uncle, it’s getting late. Why don’t we get some rest tonight and continue this meeting tomorrow?” Mark suggested, winking at you. At times like these, you were not sure how Mark viewed you. He made it seem so normal for him to wink at you but goodness, the things it did to your heart were definitely not normal.

Your fathers left the office building chatting about the upcoming gala that some rival company was having, leaving you and Mark in the office. You were about to follow suit when your stomach decided to make it clear that the last meal you had was more than eight hours ago. This time, you were sure Mark had heard it loud and clear.

Placing a hand on the small of your back, Mark led you out of his office, “Come on, munchkin, let’s get some dinner and you could ask me two weeks’ worth of questions.”  

Sure, you had your fair share of experiences with boys but somehow, Mark was so confusing. One moment he would be treating you like a child and ruffling your hair but there were also little intimate moments when you swore that the look he gave you meant something more.

The entire car ride to the burger joint consisted of Mark complaining about his week and how stressed he was. Normally, you would have responded with more than just occasional hums but Mark was being Mark. Frustrating Mark. He was constantly turning to make eye contact as if you were going to disappear, looking so Mark. The way he stuttered occasionally contrasted so greatly to the professional front he put on in front of your fathers. It made you feel special that he decided to put his guard down around you. While he was talking, he left his hand on your thigh, tightening his grip whenever another car got too near to his. Stupid Mark was making you feel things and you were not sure if he was willing to catch you if you were to fall.

The both of you entered a nearly empty burger joint and settled in one of the booths near the back. Mark definitely stood out, wearing a suit in a burger joint at 9:34PM. It was the new burger joint you casually brought up during one of your conversations with Mark. You could not tell if it was intentional and that he picked this place because you mentioned that you wanted to try it out or that it was a complete coincidence. Well, your suspicions were confirmed when he returned with two burgers and the strawberry milkshake you were raving about to him.

“One burger meal and a strawberry milkshake for the Princess,” Mark winked, adding a nickname for you. He had this habit of winking at you and even after knowing him for more than a month, the butterflies in your stomach never failed to do some somersaults and the blood vessels in your cheeks would dilate, dusting your cheeks pink. Despite the availability of seats across you, Mark decided to squeeze next to you, placing his arm around the back of your seat.

Recovering quickly from your embarrassment, you decided to clarify some doubts you had regarding your latest paper, “Mark, I still can’t understand what exactly return on capital employed is? What’s the point of it?”

“It’s basically what it is – the returns of an investment compared to the capital employed,” Mark explained. “No, this is probably why you didn’t come to me for help for so long.”

Chewing his lips in concentration, Mark tried to think of the way to simplify the concept to you, “Ok, so it’s a financial ratio to assess the profitability of an investment. Let’s say before spending time with you and treating you to this very extravagant meal, I need to think of what I get in return and consider the profits from this investment I’m making.”

Jokingly, you responded, “I would consider this a pretty darn good investment. You get my everlasting gratitude for helping this poor soul!”

Turning his body to face you, he looked you straight in the eyes. His face was so close to yours you could practically count the number of lashes he had. You were not sure how but Mark had evolved into someone you trusted, someone you looked to when life got a little too tough - the one who made you feel like you could do anything.

Breaking the silence, Mark breathed, “Well, I was hoping to get your love in return.”

PM 10:17

“Munchkin?” Mark called out to you as he entered his penthouse. With your back facing him and headphones on, you did not notice him entering the house as you typed away on your computer, preparing the financial report your father wanted in preparation for another investment he wanted to make.

Sneaking up to you, Mark wrapped his arms around you, scaring the daylights out of you. You tensed up but upon realising that it was just Mark, you relaxed instantly, basking in the embrace of your boyfriend. After his very unconventional profession of love, who could reject such a sweetheart? The three months of being together had been absolutely blissful except for the teasing the both of you had to put up with from your fathers during business meetings. Of course, golf Saturdays were your favourite now because you could openly stare at Mark. However, now that he was dating you, he definitely had to purposely lose to your father once in a while to appease him.

“Happy third monthsary, Munchkin,” he whispered, slipping a glimmering necklace around your neck. The heart-shaped pendant sat gently on your neck with both of your initials reflecting light. It was almost as beautiful as Mark’s eyes whenever you gazed into them.

“Mark, you didn’t have to! It must have been so expensive,” you whined standing up to hug him.

With his arms still wrapped around you and face nuzzled in your shoulder, Mark commented, “I’m not investing capital without expecting anything in return.”

You sighed. Mark was such a nerd and he always found some way to bring business into your conversations, reasoning that it was his responsibility to ensure that you scored straight As. Well, this big nerd was yours now. Despite his teasing, you could tell from the way that he tightened his arms around you that he really loved you.

Deciding to humour him, you whispered, “Well, Mark, you get my entire heart in return.”

[thereislifeafterhq]

Flora Devereaux is 44 years young with a birthday on May 23rd. She hails from New Orleans and Shreveport, Louisiana but now lives in Lima, Ohio. She is a Country Singer and Owner of Barkin’ Bones Animal Shelter and looks a bit like Charlize Theron.

Full Name: 

Flora Azalea Devereaux

Pronouns: 

She/Her

Gender: 

Cis-Female

Sexuality: 

Pansexual (But currently unaware)

3 Positive Traits: 

+ Protective + loving + smart

3 Negative Traits:

- Damaged - untrusting - self-deprecating

Biography:

triggers: Cult Life, Domestic Abuse, Sexual Abuse, mentions of drugs/Alcohol, Adultry, Depression, Anxiety

Flora Azalea Devereaux, was born in New Orleans to Owen and Magnolia Devereaux. The second child of four kids and certainly the one that had the biggest dream. She wanted to be a country star, she wanted to share her gift with the world. It wasn’t her only dream, she also wanted true love. She imagined her prince coming along and they would share love’s first kiss, she wanted love and prayed for it. However, when you grew up in a church like Precious Glory Ministry. Love and dreams weren’t high on the list, not in the eyes of Pastor Gregory Stone. Pastor Stone considered himself God’s prophet and interpreter of god’s will.

The parishioners had roles and those roles were god’s command. Men worked in the fields, built homes, and took wives. The women served the men by cooking, cleaning, and bearing their children. Pastor Stone was allowed to sleep with any wife he wished, no questions asked. The children treated him as a second father and follow his commands without question. As the church grew, Pastor Stone moved them to bigger land in the middle of nowhere- away from prying eyes.

People started to pull away from the ministry, families leaving in the night and others told to leave and never come back. Owen and Magnolia were planning to leave for years, saving money, hoarding provisions, and planning their escape. It was Pastor Stone’s interest in Flora and Rose that finally set things in motion. Flora was fourteen and Pastor Stone turned his attention towards her particularly. Flora felt very uncomfortable with his advances but knew if Pastor Stone wouldn’t take no for an answer. His words, “But God wants me to have you,” were burned in her brain. The night before Pastor Stone took Flora as his new wife, The Devereaux’s fled and left no trace.

Shreveport, Louisiana. A small farm house with just enough lands for a family to build a life. It took some time but The Devereaux found a new church to call home. Flora’s life change drastically, she finally had a chance to follow her dreams. She started to sing in the church choir and one of the church goers happen to be in the country music business. He told her about a band he was putting together and they needed a lead. They were looking for a younger sound and Flora had what they were looking for. When they hit the road, Magnolia tagged along and took Rosie with her. She wanted to spend some time with the band and make sure Flora felt comfortable. A few months in she headed back home and left Flora in the new chaperones hands.

Paul and Avery became her best friends, they were a couple years older and treated her like a kid sister. They were extra protective of her, once they realize just how innocent she truly was. “You never snuck a drink, not even once?” Avery asked in disbelief. Flora explained that she didn’t lie, cheat, steal, or do anything the lord frowned upon. She believed preserving her body with prayer and being optimistic about the people around her, “Oh Paulie we have so much work to do.”  Flora stood her ground for some time but decided the lord would forgive her. She prayed about it and decided to try smoking, after her first attempt she couldn’t stop coughing. Drinking did not appeal to her at all but she did enjoy the taste of wine. “I guess that’s a start,” Avery shrugged.

Flora was also a very honest person, so when her Marmee asked how everything was. She ended up telling her everything got an hour long lecture over the phone. That was enough to scare from trying anything else.

After a year, the band finally had a huge break. Their song Baby Girl broke charts and thrust the band into the public eye. Their first huge event was a country music festival in Louisiana, Flora was excited because that meant her family could come and see the band perform. The set was a hit and Flora met many people but only one stuck, a man by the name of Russell Fabray. He was charming, handsome, and older. They spent the whole after party talking before slipping away. Against her better judgment she slept with Russell that night, behind the garden. Russell assured her that everything would be alright. “We’re going to marry and no one has to know.” And she believed him.

During their first tour, Russell would come out to meet her. They would spend every minute together between rehearsals. When Flora found out she was pregnant, she called Russell in a panic. “We need to get married,” He didn’t sound angry or mad and Flora felt relieved. They did it properly and Russell asked her parents permission to marry their daughter.

They bought a house near Flora’s parents, a place where they could start their family. Flora continued to travel with the band, until tragedy struck. Avery had always been one for drugs and alcohol and her lifestyle had spiraled. The more famous the group got, the more she indulged. Flora and Paul did what they could but she wouldn’t accept the help. One night after a show, Avery went out to a party. Paul and Flora passed and opted for sleep, “Sure, thank you for everything.” Those words confused Paul and Flora but they passed them off.

The next morning, Paul and Flora got the news about Avery. After a night of partying she went back to her hotel room and overdosed. Before she took her life, she wrote down everything on her mind- which broke Paul and Flora both. Avery wrote a song for them both and told them to go on and take a piece of her with them. The song was kept secret and Flora kept a copy with her as a reminder.

The death of Avery ended the band, it was just to painful. Paul decided he couldn’t do it without her and Flora agreed. Sugarland was over and Flora returned to Louisiana to take a break and have her family. When the twins were born, Russell was late and Flora finished before he made any appearance. Avery and Daniel Fabray, they were perfect in every way and Flora’s motherly instincts kicked in. She needed to keep them safe from the world.

Eighteen, married and a mother of two. She was overwhelmed and was glad her parents were around to help. Russell was always traveling for work and she was left alone a lot. He would come back to check in, being a strict parent and even more stern husband. He had expectations and she never questioned them, he was the husband and made the rules. He changed after marriage and she found he was quick to temper. He enjoyed his drinking and it made things tense and scary, especially when he started to abuse her. If she didn’t do things to his standards, he’d hit her and call her worthless. She blamed herself for his anger, believing it was his right as a husband to set the rules.

When Russell was away, Flora would do a few local gigs. Singing her own songs and entertaining the crowd. She couldn’t see herself going on tour again, she was a parent now and Russell would never allow it. She needed so much help with the twins and Marmee was a great help during these times. She trusted her mother’s sage advice and told Magnolia everything, “I’m scared, Marmee, nothing I do is right. I try so hard but I can’t do this anymore, I want to leave him.” Magnolia was understanding until the very end, she was quick to jump in.

“Divorce is a sin, Flower. You hang in and god will punish him for his wicked deeds.”

“But Marmee, I-”

“Marriage is hard but divorce is not happening. And, do not tell your paw or brother’s, heaven knows what they’d do to him!” After that, Flora took every punch, squeeze, and harsh word. She stayed silent until his anger turned towards the kids. They were only four years old and Russell went to strike but suddenly the timid housewife turned into a tiger. She pushed him back and grabbed her new weapon. A gun her brother bought her, after learning about Russell and his abuse.

“In the name of the lord I will shoot you dead if you touch them.” He instantly sobered up and called Flora’s bluff, knocking the gun from her hand and going in for the attack. The police showed up but Flora was too scared to admit what happened. She just stayed by Russell and smiled as he explained. “Just a very loud disagreement, Lloyd. Everything is fine, we got a bit carried away.” After that, Russell started to spend more time away from home. His attitude towards the kids changed, especially with Avery. She was his princess and earned her love, she was special to him. Daniel received the most attention but had expectations placed on him, since he was the man of the house.

When she became pregnant with their third child years later, things were good again for a while. She almost forgot about the monster in front of her, he was being so sweet and kind. One night, Flora took him aside when he was sober and had a conversation. “I don’t want this baby to see that side of you, Russ. I want our kids to feel safe, I don’t want them to see you raise another hand.” Russell agreed in his own way, a smile, a kiss, and just walked away. He continued to abuse her but they kept it from the children.

For a few years, Flora continued to sing. Just small little gigs at local venues, the kids would tag along and support her. It was nice for the kids to see that side of her but nothing good lasts. She started to take less and less gigs and eventually went back to being a housewife.

Flora found some confidence over time, able to stand up to Russell more and more. He calmed down a lot over the years and that helped. However, something was eating away at her and she felt that she wasn’t the only, Mrs. Fabray. She did some digging and found he was married to another woman. She was upset and wondered how Russell managed to keep this from her. When she got the nerve to bring it up, Russell admitted he was in fact married to another woman. “How long?” Russell then laid everything out on the table and Flora was broken. A grief she had never felt- everything was a lie. The priest was a fake, the marriage a lie, she had been living in sin for sixteen years. “Why?”

“Because I had to have you, you’re mine.” Those words haunt her until this day.

Now it made perfect sense why Russell never wanted her to mention his name. Why he never wanted to be in the tabloids, or why he allowed her to keep her last name. He never wanted this part of his life to get back to his wife. “Not anymore. Not only did you cheat on me with other women, you cheated on your actual wife with me. You’re an Adulterer and that is a sin in the eyes of the lord, the very lord you use to beat me to the ground. You shame me, our kids, we’re going to be a joke to our entire community! Leave and don’t you ever come back.” Russell was going to argue but when Owen, Jake, and Tucker appeared behind her with shotguns he backed away.

“See you again, I’ll shoot you dead.” Owen cocked his gun and aimed it right at Russell’s head. He knew Owen wouldn’t think twice and made his escape out the door. Everything was kept silent and it was decided that if anyone asked, Russell left and that was that. Flora had the task of telling the kids and it was one of the hardest conversations she had. The twins were about to turn sixteen years old and understood but Juliette had a hard time understanding. She was only nine and her daddy was her everything and now she found out he was a bad man. She promised them everything would be okay and things would stay the same. “This changes nothing because it’s always been us against the world…”

The first step of this new found freedom, introducing the kids to their siblings. Judy was unsure about it but Flora decided it was an important step. The kids thought it was weird that Flora and Judy were friends but they were important to each other. It was weird being friends with your fake husbands ex-wife but It was nice to have someone to share things with. The first meeting with the kids were tense and Juliette seemed the only one interested. The other kids were courteous and made small talk and that was all. Judy and Flora wanted them to get to know each other but at their own pace.

Things were still strained but getting better…

“Solo music?” When the label came to Flora about solo music, she was skeptical about the whole thing. “I don’t know if I can, It wouldn’t feel right to do it without Paulie.”

“You should,” Paul was standing in the corner of the room with a smile, she didn’t even notice him. They had not seen each other since the twins were born. Russell didn’t want him around and now Russell was gone and Paul was here. They shared a long hug and stayed like that for a while. “Avery would want you to sing again, you should.” And with Paul’s blessing and a bunch of nerves she started to work on a new album- which went nowhere. Her fears and insecurities were firmly planted by Russell and she let doubt sink in. She told the label no and went back to her life as a pharmacist.

Over the next few years, Russell continued to show up in her life. Begging to come back home and only once she had a moment of weakness and let him in. Things were good for a short time but then the abuse started up. By this time the kids were off to college and moved away, no where in the house was safe. She kicked him back out but Russell wouldn’t stop trying to win her back. He would leave her flowers, love notes and things escalated quickly. When she refused to return his expressions of love, all four of her tires were slashed. She knew it was him but the police had no evidence, no fingerprints, nothing. Also, the house was in his name and legally she could not keep him from the property. Flora decided it was time to move and get away from him. She took what she needed and packed it away in a car and a moving van. The rest was moved into storage for safe keeping.

Flora didn’t know where to go at first but it made sense, Lima. Her and Judy shared a strong bond and friendship and she needed her friends strength. Flora found a nice home and made it her own but one thing Flora couldn’t escape- crippling depression and Anxiety. Those seemed to follow her wherever she went and it made things hard. The once perfectly pressed and dressed, she started to dress down and ignore her own personal hygiene. Late night trips to the convenience store, it’s sad when the clerks start to know your name.

One night, by pure luck- Flora ran into someone she met online. A girl who she grew close to, Dani. They seemed to help each other and boy something about this girl felt familiar. It only took a few days for Flora to remember the wild child, Avery. They were similar in many ways and now Flora knew the pain, the hurt, the betrayal. She could help Dani and be there to help when she needed it. Before they knew it, Flora became a mother figure and a friend. Both were there for each other and Dani helped her through her own hard times. She even convinced Flora to get a tattoo.

Over the next few months, Flora decided to be more open with her past. Giving her instagram followers a glimpse into her old life, speaking her truth. Which caused a rift with some family but that was their problem, not hers.

Things were good for a bit but got worse when Russell showed up. He found her and started harassing her again, which escalated into sexual assault. Causing Flora to live in fear, even after Russell was found and arrested he was set free. No physical evidence but the second time she fought back, clawing his face. He was on the run and the worry only built up and last year during the holidays- Flora had a nervous breakdown. It was so bad she could not function on her own but her family helped and she found herself again.

Flora was back in Lima before she knew it, stronger and ready to live her life. Russell was caught shortly after New Years, receiving a five year sentence for his crimes. It gave Flora peace of mind and she could finally focus on her life and her new Music career…

Paul had come to her around April and asked if she wanted to go back on tour. Flora wasn’t sure about being in the spotlight but Paul said it was time. “We put this off long enough, Avery would want us to do this.” Flora thought about it decided it was time to get back into something she truly loved.

The last few months she has been planning Sugarland’s return with Paul and working on her self worth.

[kiruuuuu]

Making out like a Bandit Part 1/3

Jäger needs help and Bandit is there for the rescue. Both of them are roughly in their mid-20s in this. I guess it’s an origin story? Third part contains all the goodies :) (Rating T, fluff/a bit of angst? maybe?, ~3.6k words)

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“So, we met through your brother, that’s probably easiest since it’s also true. Was it on the job? Did we stumble into each other at some point, did we go to the same party and he introduced us?” Marius’ brain is quick-firing possible scenarios, providing both reasonable as well as inane ones as he overtakes an idiot who really should be in the right lane yet refuses to switch over, blocking the middle lane completely. As soon as he’s past him, he accelerates the car and his thoughts simultaneously.

“Dude, relax, you’re driving like a madman”, says the person sprawling next to him, the seat moved all the way back so he can stretch out his long jeans-clad legs. “You’re putting way too much thought into this. Don’t you want to come off as natural?”

“Most of all, I want to come off as reasonable”, he replies quietly but lays off the gas a little nonetheless. He’s been useless for the past few days, drowning in a sea of worries and what-ifs and increasingly ridiculous scenarios, switching so rapidly from eerie calm to extreme tension over something that shouldn’t mean this much to him yet does. He barely ate, considered cancelling the entire thing several times but knew he had to go through with it. Had to.

“I can do reasonable”, the guy agrees easily and flashes him an open grin. He’s an odd one, that much is clear, there was definitely some hesitation when he was suggested to Marius even if he’s not adept at pinpointing what exactly it is that feels slightly off about the other young man. One thing helps a little with his frayed nerves at least: he cleaned up nicely. When they initially met to discuss a few details, the guy called Dominic showed up with an impressive stubble, well-worn clothes, bed hair and a sour attitude where now he’s dressed in clean trousers and a freshly-ironed, subtly-patterned shirt. He’s shaved, looks like he even styled his hair and applied an undeniably attractive cologne that put Marius on edge immediately as soon as he caught a whiff of it.

To be very honest, he’s stunning. He looks like someone whom Marius would notice in a club, on the street, in the supermarket, instantly obsess about and possibly dream of but never interact with for fear of blunt rejection purely because he’s so far out of Marius’ league. His jaw could cut glass, his hazelnut eyes are piercing and his broad chest looks perfect to rest one’s head on, his toned body and his height are just an added bonus. He moves with a mesmerising confidence that Marius both admires and deeply envies. There’s only one problem with the entire situation: He’s straight.

“Okay, so, let’s decide on maybe the first date and first impressions, how about -”

“I love this song”, Dominic interrupts him mid-sentence, doesn’t pretend to be apologetic about turning up the volume of the radio and even starts singing along a little. “What’s your uncle like? He means a lot to you, right?”

Marius has to raise his voice to fight against the music now. “He does, yeah. He raised me after both my parents died when I was still a kid.”

“Oh shit.” The volume is lowered considerably again, the effect almost humorous, quelling Marius’ rising irritation right away. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. He did a fantastic job regardless. He’s one of the greatest people I know, dedicated to his work, honest and smart, I have nothing but respect for him.”

“Then it makes sense – I was wondering why you’d care what your uncle thinks of you being gay.”

Marius just answers with a strained smile.

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It’s one of the worst ideas he’s ever heard, not only because he despises lying but also because lying to his family is something at which he’s always been terrible. His friends could pretend to be ignorant about the fate of the freshly baked cookies even with crumbs around their mouths whereas he basically confessed to wanting to eat one before he even does. Additionally, it means he’d have to get another person involved for which he’s entirely unprepared, so at first, he discards the suggestion despite the fact it worked out reasonably well for the guy telling him about it.

And reasonably well in this case means that the person pretending to be his friend’s boyfriend so he didn’t have to come out to his parents all alone actually caught the knife thrown at the poor sap in mid-air, shielded him bodily from further harm and offered to stay the night to ensure he’s fine. The two of them are still dating, which Marius supposes is wonderful for them yet he can’t get over the haunted look in his friend’s eyes as he recounts how he was basically expelled from his own family.

Still, he refuses to entertain the notion for a year during which he very carefully chooses which places to frequent just in case someone who might snitch to his own family runs into him making out with yet another mediocre-looking dude who’s indubitably more interested in Jäger’s lower head than anything he has to say. At some point, he gets sick of it and decides to make the jump, to at least let his uncle know why he wanted to own a skirt even if he never put it on in public as a child, why he insisted on watching each and every cowboy film on TV as well as most football matches (even though he hates football) and why his first attempts at dating girls went so horribly wrong.

He’s probably a coward. Dragging someone else into this extremely personal matter just so they can offer moral support is nothing but selfish, he knows this, and yet it’s reassuring to know he won’t be alone. There’s absolutely no chance his uncle is going to react like his friend’s family in any way but despite this, having someone there who will possibly share the weight of disappointment and disgust so it doesn’t weigh him down as heavily is too tempting to dismiss the prospect. He asks around in his circle of friends, some of which immediately offer to do it themselves but Marius is close enough with his uncle that most of them have met him and even introduced their wives, so they’re out of the question.

Eventually, Cedrick speaks up.

Cedrick is someone who’s usually drifting at the edge of Marius’ vision, a friend of a friend of a friend, popular and hard-working though he has a reputation for being a little strange, sometimes even callous. He’s loud due to genuine confidence in the fact that people want to hear what he has to say, Marius is loud to mask the fact that he assumes no one cares – the end result is similar, however, and so they don’t interact very often whenever they’re stationed together. When Cedrick approaches him one day and mentions having heard about his troubles, Marius steels himself in expectancy of a vaguely hurtful joke though ends up pleasantly surprised when all he receives is encouragement and sympathy. It turns out that both of them assumed they disliked each other, so after an awkward conversation to clear everything up, Cedrick mentions his twin brother who’s visiting the Ruhr area at the moment and that he’s probably spontaneous enough to go through with Marius’ plan.

Dominic really does share a lot of similarities with his brother but is actually more burly, visually more intimidating and, unfortunately, gorgeous. There’s something about his demeanour that sets him apart from Cedrick, ensures they won’t be confused – Marius would be hard pressed to identify what exactly it is but he notices an uncomfortable attraction with which he’s too familiar. Handsome straight guys are the source of equally many broken hearts as desperate jerk off sessions, they’re the bane of Marius’ existence and the one mistake he keeps making. He doesn’t learn and as much as he hates lying to others, he’s a master at lying to himself.

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The entire car ride, which takes longer than the usual hour due to traffic, he’s careful to keep his eyes on the road instead of the impressive figure next to him but even so, he’s not impervious to their ongoing conversation. Dominic seems unwilling to dwell on Marius’ game plan, instead jumps from topic to topic, sometimes based on a car plate he spots or a news story being discussed on the radio, though more often than not entirely at random. He appreciates the distraction and finds his voluntary companion to be an interesting and interested talker though when they arrive, he wishes they’d chatted more about what kind of plot they’re going to act out as soon as they enter the house. He feels entirely unprepared.

“I don’t think I can do this”, he says, his stomach in knots upon him laying eyes on the home in which he grew up, the four walls that are heavy with memories. It used to be a safe haven, a place of freedom and comfort in which he never felt wrong. He does now, sharply and suddenly, all the possible ramifications of his impending confession flooding him at once. His uncle always told him he didn’t need other children if he’s got him and what used to sound lovely to his ears now creates a lump in his throat.

“Can I call you sweetcheeks?” The unexpected question startles a short laugh out of him that shakes him out of his downward spiral of unproductive thoughts and he smiles at Dominic, grateful for the comment. “What’s the worst that could happen, hm?”

“He disowns, insults and assaults me”, Marius shoots back matter-of-factly.

“What’s the best case scenario?”

For this, he needs to think a moment. “He accepts me as I am and even supports me.”

“And what’s most likely going to happen? Probably somewhere in the middle, right?” His uncle loves him and if previous altercations are anything to go by, he’s not a confrontational person at all. Reluctantly, he nods which turns out to be a mistake because now Dominic is beaming at him with the force of a thousand suns. “There you go. It’ll be fine. I’ll hold your hand during, if you like, and you can cry on me until my shirt’s soaked afterwards, but right now, you got shit to do. You got this. Let’s go.”

Marius finally understands why Cedrick roped his brother into this instead of volunteering himself – Dominic is proving to be an absolute sweetheart.

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“It’s good to see you, come in, come in. Who’s this?”, his uncle pats his arm as he slips past him into the familiar house and then shakes Dominic’s hand. “Hello, I’m Helmut.”

“Dominic Brunsmeier, a pleasure. You can call me Dom, everyone does”, Marius’ companion responds politely and shuts the door behind him. They’ve come this far so Marius decides to takes the next logical step.

“Dinner is almost ready, you can sit down in the kitchen.” The fact that he doesn’t question Dom’s presence and instead accepts him into his home without protest simply because it was Marius who brought him along stings a little – he’s so unsuspecting.

“Actually, there’s something I’d like to talk about beforehand. Can we…?” His uncle seems surprised but ushers them to the living room nonetheless and this is where the reality of what’s happening finally catches up with Marius who is eternally grateful that he at least made it to the sofa before his legs give in. He can feel his heart pounding in his temples and while it does help, it doesn’t do much to have Dom by his side until he sits down right next to him, their thighs touching, his hand brushing over Marius’, thumb running over his knuckles for a brief moment. It centres him in a way, allows him a brief respite to take a deep breath and prepare himself mentally once more, just like he’s done every day during the previous week.

This is him. His uncle deserves to know about this because it’s a large part of him, his future and past, and leaving him in the dark just doesn’t seem fair. This is who he is and he can’t, won’t change anything about it – and this realisation helps. He’s content with himself. And even if his uncle might not be, it’s ultimately less important than his own opinion of himself.

He hesitantly leads up to it, speaks deliberately and has rehearsed most of it before, and while he probably only voices a couple of sentences, it feels like he’s talking for an eternity which is reassuring because his uncle hates interrupting people – so as long as he’s talking, he’s fine. He forces himself to stop, closes his mouth, resists the urge to squirm in his seat, to inspect the room to find something to comment on, switch the topic. Dom next to him is silent, a few of his fingers stroking Marius’ leg out of view in support. He hasn’t felt this vulnerable in a while, it’s as if he willingly presented a weak spot to someone with a weapon and trust is the only thing keeping him from flinching.

His uncle seems pensive. Not disappointed – not yet –, not angry or confused but Marius expects the quiet thinking to tip over into any of those soon. Instead, he looks at Dom. “Am I right in assuming you’re together?” Dom, the utter angel, simply nods and agrees. “Then you can consider yourself a very lucky man.”

His face lights up once more. “I do.”

Marius just stares. Not only did his uncle just use the informal “you”, reserved for family and friends, he also – what sort of reaction is that? “Wait -”

“How long have you wanted to let me know? Don’t tell me you worried yourself sick over this, your cousin’s gay.”

Now his eyes are almost bulging out of their sockets. “What?”

“From your dad’s side. Markus. Did you never – well, I guess you didn’t. I just hope I’ve made enough food. You really should’ve told me you’d bring a guest. You’re planning on staying, right, Dom? I’d like to get to know you better.”

“I’d be delighted”, Dom replies and sounds nothing but genuine.

And Marius just looks back and forth between the two, trying to process what just happened.

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Dinner is entirely surreal and Marius feels like a complete and utter fool the entire time. The first half is spent on him answering his uncle’s questions about when he knew, what his experiences have been like so far and he’s forced to disclose all of it with Dom watching him with a small smirk and dear God Dom is probably judging him so hard internally because he made such a big deal out of it and it turned out to be absolutely nothing to worry about. A few times, he has to interrupt his uncle before he starts with the really embarrassing stories (though Dom subtly tries to guide the conversation back to them, as if Marius wouldn’t notice). It’s domestic and lovely and decidedly strange.

The rest of it is spent on Dom and this is where the whole thing might crumble. Marius completely missed the point where he could sensibly tell his uncle what’s up and is now stuck in this pretend relationship that threatens to blow up any second but the longer they talk, the more apparent it becomes that Dom knows exactly what he’s doing. It turns out he’s using all the topics they’ve discussed on the way here to drop natural-seeming remarks that imply how well he knows Marius, and though he disagrees with some of the “relationship” details that Marius brings up, it only serves to strengthen the front they’re putting up because they end up bickering like a real couple.

“Oh, you have a twin?”, his uncle asks curiously at some point and Dom nods.

“We both joined the BGS at the same time, yeah. Sometimes we dress the same to see whether Marius will end up holding the wrong person’s hand but so far, he’s behaved very well.” He winks at Marius, making him blush and his uncle laugh.

“You’re not that similar, actually”, he replies begrudgingly and adds, before he can help himself: “Y ou’re more handsome.”

“I’m beginning to understand why you suddenly developed such a passion for sports when you got that new teacher all the girls were fawning over”, his uncle muses but Marius can barely hear him due to Dom’s smile eclipsing pretty much everything around him. This was a terrible mistake. All of this was a mistake.

After they’ve eaten – and though it was nothing special, it tasted of home regardless – Marius shoos his uncle away, insisting that they’ll take care of the dishes since he never bothered to buy a dishwasher. As soon as he’s out of earshot, he murmurs: “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he’d take it this well and now you have to -”

“Don’t be ridiculous, this is hysterical. I’m having the time of my life, sweetcheeks”, comes the easy response and Dom actually does sound like he’s enjoying himself immensely.

“Call me that again and I’ll slap you with the wet towel.”

“Oh, is that what you’re into?” He chuckles at Marius’ exasperated expression that partly stems from the fact that Dom is playing his role a little too well. Weirdly enough, he seamlessly fits into his life, he’s witty, charming and sincere, his humour aligning perfectly with his and even his uncle’s and right now, he looks completely at ease, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and him almost elbow deep in dishwater. He’s gone from someone whom Marius would admire from afar to someone about whom he’d daydream – like waking up next to him, cuddling while watching TV. Only he has the bonus of being really, really hot. His lower arms, despite being halfway obscured with foam, look more than strong enough to hold him down and - “Really though, I’m happy for you. And I like your uncle.”

And his uncle likes him, which is a whole new problem. Because he’ll have to find an excuse as for why Dom isn’t in his life anymore the next time he visits and that means more lies on top of the ones that are currently stacking up. At least his biggest worry is gone now and he won’t have to hide such a fundamental part of himself anymore, which got rid of the worst knots in his stomach – but his uncle finding out Marius expected him to react so negatively that he made up a boyfriend remains a fear of his still.

“Hey. Cheer up.” He turns his head to answer only to find Dom’s face right in front of his and then he kisses him, nothing spectacular, just a short peck on the lips before he returns to his task but a kiss nonetheless. Habit kicks in and he involuntarily chases him, earns another blinding smile and a second kiss, yet this time neither of them withdraw and it’s an awkward angle, Dom’s arm is in the way, they both seem unsure about committing and it’s perfect, it’s quiet and unexpected and shy but Dom smells heavenly, his composed and supportive presence is doing wonders to Marius’ soul and all he wants to do is to snog him senseless, until the water is cold, until the sun goes down, until his uncle checks on them. He takes note of his smooth cheeks, the long eyelashes gently curving, the specks of gold in his honeyed irises; they tilt their heads and eyelids flutter and someone clears his throat behind them.

Marius jolts, barely stops himself from jumping away from Dom, reminding himself he’s supposed to be doing this, whirls around and feels warmth creep into his face at the amused expression on his uncle’s face. “Do you boys want to stay for the game? The BVB is going to play Schalke into the ground – hopefully.”

Okay, no, this has already gone too far and with him almost making out with Dom he’s straying uncomfortably far into dangerous territory. Besides, he can’t stand football, which is the perfect excuse for them leaving as soon as possible. He’s adamant on not ruining things with Dom so his budding friendship with Cedrick doesn’t get tarnished, not to mention the fact that he’s probably provided the twins with enough ammunition for blackmail to last them a lifetime. “Thank you, but I think we’ll -”

“Sure.” His mouth snaps shut and his head whips around to Dom who doesn’t even have the decency to return his gaze. “Another Dortmund fan, hm? I can get behind that as long as it’s against Schalke, we have a common enemy.”

A broad grin is Dom’s reward for such a betrayal. “That’s what I like to hear. Marius, if you don’t want to watch it, you can do me another favour. The model helicopter I bought a few months ago is broken again and I’ve had trouble fixing it. It’s in the garage.”

He barely resists the urge to glare at the utterly unapologetic man next to him. “No, it’s okay, I’ll join you. I’d rather make sure you don’t tell him any embarrassing things about me.”

His uncle dramatically puts on a mock hurt expression. “What, me? I’d never, cheese weasel.”

And while Dom snickers into the dishes, Marius’ face gets even hotter.

[stretchjournalemerson]

What I Call Home: An Exploration of Privilege

By Katherine Healy 

It’s hard to love a place and know a place. The first week of college I brought my newfound friends to the town that I learned to walk in, grew up in, and spent hours upon hours simply existing in. However, I was shocked by their reactions. “This is so beautiful,” “what a place to grow up in,” and “do you know how lucky you are to live here?” were the only sounds in a car where everyone stared out the windows. Although I was shocked, I understood their reactions. The beauty of my town is obvious: blue is smeared across the sky and the sea while green compliments it from below. 

I don’t remember moving to Marshfield, Massachusetts. I think I was able to say “Mom” and “Dad” when I did, but not much else. However, the move from Florida was motivated: my parents were dead set on my future education. I was destined to go to the best of the best. Therefore, I went to a very specific elementary school. Now referred to by many as “The Academy,” usually accompanied by a soft laugh, my school’s name was always associated with prestige in my small town. With only 60 children in my graduation class, we were told for years that we were to achieve great things; how could we not? We were given all the skills, materials, and counseling to do so. However, with small bows in my hair and wide eyes, I never asked why. Why were we the best? The brightest? The most likely to succeed?

Years later, and hopefully years wiser, the reason becomes less pixelated but more nuanced. My elementary school is not as picture-perfect as my parents once believed. While the academics were exactly what my parents always dream of, there was a reason. Marshfield is 95.9% white. And, because of our demographics, our education reflects exactly what we are. We read stories about white characters by white authors in towns that felt eerily similar to Marshfield. We learned whitewashed history and assumed that it was nothing but the truth. We are all smart—we have to be—but in the way that Marshfield wants us to be.

However, this is not my elementary school’s only fault. As one of five elementary schools in my town, imaginary borders were drawn for the district years ago. However, in 2014, these borders suddenly changed. In a shocking school committee vote, Marshfield redistricted, sending 43 students from my elementary school to the neighboring one. While never explicitly mentioned by anyone of status in my town, a rumor about the reason for redistricting has circulated for years. Marshfield wanted to send students with disabilities and IEPs to a different elementary school. Despite this disgraceful and ignorant choice, parents simply talked about the inconvenience the choice established for their families. Cognizant that this is regarded as a rumor, I reached out to my town’s current School Committee Chair. As the student representative for two years for the committee and the chair being my Youth and Government advisor for two years, we developed an honest relationship. Although quickly responding to my first text inquiring about asking about a rumor, he left the question itself unanswered. While this does not concede anything, it is evident that this is not a matter he is interested in discussing. But, in a town built upon ignorance, it's hard to believe the town was destined for anything else. 

Born and raised on stolen Wampanoag territory, my town is a clear reminder of all that is destroyed. Instead of repenting our injustice to the native people, we celebrate the conquers. In second grade we took a field trip to Edward Winslow’s house--located in the center of my town and the site of a Senior Leader of Plymouth Colony. We learn the history of a man who built his livelihood on top of other people’s, crushing them with each movement. Then, a year later in third grade, we traveled to Plimoth Plantation to learn about the peaceful relationship between the Pilgrims and the Wampanoag people. They leave out the genocide part. So, how does a town get to be so ignorant? So unaware of their own faults? 

Ultimately, it comes down to one word: privilege. But, for many in Marshfield, that word sits funny in their mouth. Unpacking one’s own privilege is never easy. For me, it included nights crying and reworking and reflecting on everything I had ever known. However, people in conservative Marshfield view it as a deeming and demanding word. When called out, people go on the attack: “you’re making me seem like a bad person” and “I’ve never had it easy” usually perforate the conversation about privilege. Because, to many, Marshfield is not the epitome of privilege, instead it is the definition of blue-collar life. While Marshfield is not racially diverse, it is certainly socioeconomically diverse. 

Like many other coastal Massachusetts towns, people settle in: they build homes for generations to live in and they create careers for their children to work in. Their way of life is specific, and, more often than not, predescribed. They labor day in and day out to provide for their family. Even to my own extremely liberal family, privilege is a gritty topic. My mother grew up surrounded by poverty. With a paralyzed father, eight siblings, and sporadic foster children, money was tight. My mom recounts molasses sandwiches for dinner and years where Christmas was postponed because they couldn’t even afford their typical Charlie Brown tree. When you are questioning your next meal it’s hard to believe you are privileged. However, on the opposite side of the same spectrum, exists my father. Born and bred in a high-class white tower, my father’s biggest problem was that his real-estate developer father did not attend his high school hockey games. Although I am not minimizing the effect that had on him, he has never even heard of this discussion--nevermind participated in it. So, when socioeconomic status gets filtered into the intersectional conversation surrounding privilege—how do you navigate? My parents chose to meet in the middle. Now living a life of middle class blissfulness, they never have to have this conversation. The problem isn’t that they’re unaware, it’s that they never have to be.   

Upon reflection, I often wonder, was my education worth it? Was an “astonishing” reading level even worth it? How could I have truly learned if I was in a tower of privilege? The walls of this tower were covered in mirrors; everywhere I looked there were just reflections of myself. 

But, despite all these unanswered questions, it’s still home. I still wake up in the middle of the night longing for what used to be. I still get homesick for the sea. My best, most treasured memories exist between Marshfied’s sea walls. When I turned eight my grandmother painted a picture of me. On the canvas it was me with hair as bouncy and red as ever, but slowly growing. Three versions of me exist in the painting: each older than the last, but all in Marshfield. When I drive down the picturesque streets of Marshfield, I see each version on the streets. I see little me: happy as a clam on my elementary school playground. I see the next me: curious and bright in my town library. Finally, I see the last me: head down and ashamed, seeing Marshfield for all it will ever be. Not pictured is the fourth me: aware of what Marshfield is but still loving it, nevertheless. 

Youthful ignorance is exactly that. It is head tilted back from laughing and a hazy glow from the moon. It is nights where there is no destination but joy in every right and left turn. It is the ability to fall and scrape your knees with no consequences. It is reading until odd hours of the morning with your bedroom window open and crickets chirping. The feeling never goes away. I will always, infinitely be young and in Marshfield. I will always be wonderstruck by my own youth--and the consequent ignorance.

When people talk about home, they don’t talk about the piece of you that’s left there. In my case, that piece is nurtured and ignorant, blind to the world around her. However, it’s still me. It’s still a phantom limb I feel every day. But, I was only able to reflect by leaving. At Emerson, with its discussions and unpacking, I am able to witness, and sometimes participate, in conversations that weren’t even ideas in Marshfield. I am able to learn from stories and perspectives that are diverse, creating an education that is authentic rather than binary and whitewashed. I am able to grow as a person. I still can’t answer all the questions. Because of the foundation I was given, I have more to learn than my peers. But, I am learning nevertheless. So, I will always love Marshfield. I will always long for it's comforting embrace. Yet, I see it clearer now. I see it for everything it will ever be. 

Works Cited

“Parents React to Marshfield Redistricting Plan.” The Patriot Ledger, Quincy, MA: Local News, Politics, Entertainment & Sports in Quincy, MA. Accessed November 5, 2019. https://www.patriotledger.com/article/20140304/news/140308650?template=ampart.

“U.S. Census Bureau QuickFacts: Marshfield Town, Plymouth County, Massachusetts.” Census Bureau QuickFacts. Accessed November 5, 2019. https://www.census.gov/quickfacts/fact/table/marshfieldtownplymouthcountymassachusetts/AGE295218.

Acknowledgements

With such a personal essay, it is hard not to get personal with my thanks. First, to the people that read my essay: Sophia and Noah. Both of your writing inspires me as both a writer and editor. You remind me, constantly and consistently, why I am pursuing this and why it is what I have always wanted. Sometimes, when you are an editor, no one really cares about your work. But, both of you continue to show an unprecedented amount of care towards my work. In regards to the essay itself, I have to thank its inspiration. Thank you to my parents for always being transparent with your faults. You have taught me to grow from your mistakes and my own. And, most of all, thank you to my muse: Marshfield. Thank you for letting me love you and leave you. Thank you for all the love and all the bruises. I will be forever a part of you. 

[max39211]

My favorite president

I vividly remember my only visit to the Lincoln Memorial in Washington. I have the photos from it in the house where I found peace and quiet for the first time in my life. 

President Lincoln was said to have suffered from depression, and I can identify with that. It leaves you empty, so you need the closeness of others but don’t want to spread your glass-half-emptiness.

I’ve sought comfort on the Internet ever since the February night when my maternal grandfather died. He had lost an arm in a train accident long before I was born, and I don’t think he ever really got over it. To me he was the quiet yet grumpy Scotch-Irishman who wouldn’t dare let his wife Mary tell him what to do, and she wasn’t smart enough -- or didn’t care enough -- to realize that her insistence in doing things her way NEVER ended with him coming around to her point of view. And yet when he died around Valentine’s Day that year (when I was a junior in high school), they had the sweetest parting moment. He shared a “Be Mine” candy heart with her and then fell asleep forever. I was chatting with friends on AOL at the time. I heard my mother scream and then ran into the kitchen to ask my father’s mother what had happened. They told me, and I sort of matter-of-factly went back to chatting online. I didn’t process it until the next day when I had to excuse myself from Physics class and then proceeded to the bathroom to weep.

Before they closed my grandfater’s casket at the funeral, I tossed in a poem called “Flowers for Ivere” (he was named after the soap, but his poor parents didn’t know how to spell). He was buried in the section of a Memphis, Tennessee, cemetery where all the legendary newspaper men and women were buried. He was one who communicated through the stories he’d show us when he thought we might enjoy reading the news. He would stay up late into the night to read every word of every paper every day. Those were much better times. s

We young people love to criticize the “Boomers” and those even older, but I suspect we are the dumb ones, not the other way around. They could appreciate the little things. They were stubborn, but stubbornness is a necessary evil when you have to go through life armed-man. And he wouldn’t dare let my grandmother help him button his shirt. He could do it himself, thank you very much. (He did, however, enlist me to help upon occasion.) That’s the type of things I miss -- the little intangibles that didn’t matter back then, but now that they’re gone and we’re spending a day reflecting on dead people, I think about those things.

I never got to find out about his family, and I’m afraid I’m about to miss out learning about my father and the things he’s alluded to but doesn’t have the heart to tell me. Some of it I have inferred, but I neither want to ask the questions I’d like to ask nor do I want to hear the answer.

I long to go back to those days that seem almost like dreams, the stories I haven’t shared because I don’t feel it’s my place.

I’ve never been good at public speaking -- I often am silent in public, and that’s interpreted as being stuck up or that I don’t like anyone but myself.

After brain surgery, my perspective on everything changed, but I still feel like that little boy trapped inside his head. I only seem to be able to express myself when I type, because that’s about how fast my brain moves before jumping to another thought process. 

This is the type of stuff I wanted to write in a book so that I could drift away from dwelling on all the negativity of the world. I want to live, but I feel I can do that only if I have a ying to my yang. Music is what makes me happy, so I know that’s where I tend to gravitate. But I don’t know how to leap from my current reality (a messy home in a mostly quiet neighborhood a few blocks from the water in Florida) to where I want to be, which is with someone who has captured my attention. And of course there’s a new wrinkle -- that I have to move back to the city I felt I needed to escape from, which is now flooding just like it did two times when I was barely old enough to remember anything.

The leap is the hardest part, and honestly I think I would have stayed silent forever if I hadn’t nearly died and then woke up to a reality that I’m not allowed to talk about except in these long diatribes that don’t really say anything.

I would like to take a minute to think Mrs. Cunningham. Fluff truly is overrated! And so today on President’s Day I’d like to do something that you’re not supposed to do as a journalist: bury the lead. And while I know the old adage that I shouldn’t put off till tomorrow what I could do today, I still want to hold onto the anonymity for another day. Many people who know me probably know to what I’m alluding, but it’s not a good idea to be a blabber-mouth -- even on an underused social media platform where secrets go to be buried. My family’s neighborhood (to which I soon will have to return sans a miracle) is under a flooding threat, and it’s not my place to share this good news lest I steal his thunder again.

Plus, I’ve got to go pick up my crazy cat from the vet. She’s supposed to be a comfort animal, and she is very pretty, but I miss my dog, who my brother and I affectionately called Mr. Pup Dog. He’s buried under a rose bush in the house where I grew up -- back in the day where you didn’t need TV or anything else to entertain you. You could just ride your bike and be free of it all.

For all of you 39211 brats like me, I’d like to say: Long live “The Dip.” Those days were the best ever!

And P.S. If a certain woman reads this and wants to “be the man,” I leave my light on. ;)