#if i think about clara too long i get ill and need to lie down

[quietwingsinthesky]

every time i think im okay i remember that the echoes of clara across the doctor’s timeline didn’t know they were echoes. or. no, some of them did, i think, but the more clara gives of herself to save the doctor, the more she loses the sense of who she is. and that’s why some of the echoes just seem like clara, knowing why she’s there and what she’s there to do. and some of them, many of them, don’t. the ones eleven meets don’t. and how many of them didn’t know haunts me. how many of them died just out of sight of the doctor, for the doctor, alone, without knowing why.

[strawberrylemonz]

Accepted Invitation

Part 1

Part 2 [CURRENT]

Part 3

DT: @bargledblocks my beloved <3 and @snapdragonfirefly my beloved <3

“Chat, stop being dickheads.”

Kristin shook her head as she narrowed her eyes at Phil, who smiled at her.

“He gets that from you.”

“What? Never! He must have learned it from someone else!”

As the two playfully bickered, accusing each other of starting Tommy’s cursing habit, they failed to notice the guilty look that covered the twin’s expression. Ghostbur, not being able to read the atmosphere or situation, whispered in a loud manner.

“Heeeeeey, didn’t we teach him how to curse.”

“You two did what?”

“Nothing! Let’s move on!”

Tommy hummed as he happily navigated through the unfamiliar Portal Hub. He had heard stories of what it was like from his father and brothers, so he was more than excited to finally navigate through it himself. Look at him go! TommyInnit, the most badass adventurer around! He would be so cool, just like his family!

“What is he doing on the main server? Why is he walking around the Portal Hub?”

“I don’t know, but does it matter?”

“Of course it does-!”

“Does not.”

Just as he was about to enter a different section of the Portal Hub, the sound of a small peep caught his attention. Turning around with a smile, he held out his hand as he caught a baby chick, gently petting it with his finger. 

“Hello, little guy. New god?”

“Yes, little chick, I am!”

“Did Clara and Mother lead you my way?”

“They did! They couldn’t help but say good things about you, so I just had to come and see you for myself! I hope I’m not going to stay this small forever.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get bigger the longer you stick around with me. Mother and Clara are already fully grown chickens, but there’s other deities who are still puffy chicks, like you.”

“Wonderful! Can I stay on your person?”

“Sure, why not? Here, just stay there.”

“Thank you, young chick.”

“Not a problem!”

“I’m sorry, gods?”

“Are you telling me that Tommy’s just as crazy as his family? I mean, come on, Chat? Voices? Obvious red flag-”

“That’s not very nice, Dream.”

Dream frowned and tried to cover his ears, doing his best to block out Ghostbur. Techno and Wilbur just sat in silence, watching the form of their brother as he happily interacted with his voices, with his chat. He seemed so much more in control than they ever were at his age. Overall, they were just shocked that he even had a chat, and they didn’t know. Watching the interaction, Ranboo voiced his observation.

“Hey, Tommy kinda has what Phil does.”

“What do you mean, Boo?”

“Phil has a bunch of crows that follow him around, Tommy has baby chicks. Kinda funny, if you ask me.”

Tommy smiled as he tucked the chick into his shirt pocket, happy to see the little fella content. Peering into his satchel, he smiled as he nodded to a small group of chicks huddled in there, peering up at him. Their peeps comforted him as he entered the new area, clutching the straps of both his backpack and satchel tightly in his grip. Mumbling as he studied the different portals, he couldn’t help but snort as familiar clucking caught his attention. Turning around, he waved as a clucking chicken ran to him, flapping into his arms.

“Hello, Mother.”

Quackity snorted, only to quickly move to cover his mouth. Kristin raised an eyebrow as she turned to face him, curiosity painting her face. Nervous laughter erupted from the man’s throat as he scratched the back of his neck, trying to explain.

“It’s just, seeing him call a chicken mother was kind of funny.”

Kristin laughed as she nodded in agreement, she and Clara sharing knowing looks.

“It is funny, yeah.”

The chicken clucked as she rested her head on his shoulder, snuggling in. Waiting as he held her close, he smiled as a red aura came off the chicken, forming a mass in front of him. Floating there, arms crossed, was Kristin. Humming as she looked around the area, she spoke up in a confident manner.

“Joining your Chat was one of the smartest things I’ve ever done. Now I just need to track down your brothers and join their Chats, talk some sense into them during my free time.”

“Good to see you too, Mum.”

Kristin chuckled as she shook her head. Pressing her lips together, she gave her youngest son a pointed look.

“Now, Tommy, why are you here? You should be at home, with the others. The Hub is a big and unpredictable place, no nine year old should be wandering around here unsupervised.”

“But I’m not unsupervised, you’re here!”

Placing her hands on her hips, she shook her head as she sharpened her look, making the child avoid her gaze.

“I mean by someone who is physically there to watch you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Mum, I’m a Big Man!”

“I don’t doubt you are, but you still shouldn’t be here on your own. Here, let’s get you back to your father and brothers-”

“No!”

“Yelling at his mother, how rude!”

Niki shook her head in distaste as Jack nodded in agreement.

“She must have the will of thousands to deal with someone like Tommy.”

Kristin frowned at the statements being made behind her. It hurt her that the people her son admired and looked to spoke ill of him behind his back. What hurt her the most, however, was the lack of defense from her husband or sons. Instead, the defense came from someone else.

“Hey, leave the kid alone! Look at him, he’s just a child!”

“Quackity is right, Tommy’s nine here. Besides, if Kristin see’s something wrong with his tone, I’m sure she’d put him back in line.”

A satisfied hum came from Kristin as she smiled at Quackity and Ranboo, glad to see that some people had some sense in themselves.

Kristin frowned as she raised an eyebrow, tilting her head towards her youngest son. Tommy peered down at the chicken in his arms, ashamed. Sighing, he nodded as he looked back at her.

“I’m sorry, Mother. I just- I can’t go back.”

“Why not?”

“I hate being alone.”

The group watched as tears welled up in the child’s eye. They all felt a pinch of pain and hurt in their chests, frowning at how Tommy was feeling. Watching as he wiped his tears away with the chicken, they couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable.

“What do you mean by alone? I’m sure that if you just ask your brothers if you can join in sparring-”

“They left.”

“...What? What do you mean they left? What about your father? What did he say about this?”

“He left too. They all left me alone in the cottage. Something about being invited to a new server? They sent letters back home for me to read, but they stopped coming in two months ago. Dad and Techno started a nation, I think. The Antarctic Empire, or something. Wilbur started his own, but I think he’s allied with them? It got confusing after a while.”

“L’manburg wasn’t Wilbur’s first country?”

“Forget that, the anarchists started a country?!”

“Letters stopped two months ago? When did they leave you behind?”

“Um, I’m not sure? They left November twenty-second.”

“Wha- Tommy, it’s July fourth! They’ve been gone for almost seven months!

“Wow, really? It’s been that long? Huh, would you look at that! I’m a master survivor!”

“Ow!”

“I still don’t forgive you for that! How could you leave our son behind like that?! For seven months?!”

“Kristin-”

“Don’t, we’ll talk about this later.”

“And you’ve been alone all along? What about our sweet neighbors? Aren’t you best friends with that boy your age?”

“Tubbo went with his dad on a trip a few months back.”

“Schlatt took him on a trip? Huh, weird. And what about Lani?”

“What’s so surprising about that? I can be a loving and cool father, right Tubbo? Lani?”

The two siblings avoided the ram’s gaze, mumbling excuses so they did not need to reply.

“Adopted dad took her on a different trip after she got upset that Schlatt left her behind.”

“Well, count on Jordan to cheer his daughter up.”

“The Captain is cool like that, Mum.”

“You bet he is! Man, I need to go on a trip with him again. He’d love to meet Michael!”

“Knowing dad, he’s gonna freak after seeing that his only son is married and has a child.”

“I think you’re wrong, Lani, dad will be fiiiiiiiiiiinnnnne.”

“Whatever.”

“Well, where are you going, Tommy? Joining them on this new server?”

“I was, but I decided not to.”

“And why not?”

“I was invited to a different server! See?”

Kristin watched as Tommy reopened his satchel, greeting the chicks who napped inside. Carefully pulling out an envelope, he smiled as he pulled out the card. Presenting it to his mother with pride, Tommy giggled with glee as she read the name of the server.

“Dream SMP?”

“Yup! Started back in April, I think? I got the invite a month back, and I’ve been preparing to leave ever since! Isn’t that cool? Someone thinks I’m cool enough to join a server!”

Kristin studied the face of her son, watching as he happily rambled about his plans for the new server. He didn’t fool her, he never could. She knew that despite his excitement, he was lonely and scared. He didn’t want to be alone.

“You’re not going to make me go back to the cottage, are you?”

“You know what? I’ll follow you wherever you choose to go.”

“Really?!”

“Absolutely, my ray of sunshine.”

“Oh, thank you!”

Pure love and happiness filled everyone as Tommy held the chicken close to himself, ignoring the strange looks people gave him as he mumbled his thanks.

“He really loves you, doesn’t he?”

“As do I for him. If I could live every day outside of my realm, I’d be by my family’s side every day.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Now, let’s see this Dream SMP, okay?”

“M’kay!”

-

“You guys left Tommy all by himself when he was nine? Kinda wack, ngl.”

“Did you just verbally abbreviate “not going to lie” in real life?”

“That’s not the point, Sapnap.”

“I know, but still.”

Wilbur refused to speak or look at anyone. He didn’t know why the train brought him and the others here, but he knew that being sat with his family made him uncomfortable. Technoblade just sat beside his twin, messing with his hands as he silently thought things over. Peering at his parents and brother, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had been unfair towards his youngest brother. He didn’t regret doing what he did to L’manburg, the country deserved it. He didn’t regret a thing, no matter what Tommy said or did. He didn’t even know why the voices and his own consciousness felt uneasy by this all, nothing bad hadn’t even occurred yet! It was definitely uncomfortable to feel what Tommy was feeling during these events, but that was the only thing that truly explained his uneasiness.

He watched as his mother whispered to his father, her stare firm and strong. The ex-citizens of L’manburg all conversed with one another, sharing their observations so far. They all shared the same question, he knew this, but only one was brave enough to ask it. Watching as Drista made her way from Lani to Kristin, Techno watched with amusement.

“Excuse me? Mrs. Minecraft? Where is Tommy?”

“Oh, simple! None of us wanted him to revisit all these moments that may be uncomfortable for him, so he’s somewhere safe.”

Before anyone else could ask anything else, they were suddenly overwhelmed with excitement and joy. Turning around they watched as Tommy spawned into a new server, his mother’s chicken in his arms. Petting her head as he looked around, Tommy addressed his small following of chicks and chickens.

“Boys! Welcome to the Dream SMP!”

[ladyanput]

A Hurtful Prank Pt.2

The second part to the fic inspired by @vivilakitty (I know this isn’t exactly what you said, I’m sorry)

Felix strode down the street of Paris. At the age of twenty, he hadn’t been back since that whole incident with Marinette, not that he hadn’t wanted to. But when it came out that Hawkmoth had been defeated and he turned out to be Felix’s own uncle was the villian that had caused havoc on the city, one small, cruel part of him had haughty thought that Adrien and his father weren’t so perfect after all. But as soon as that thought had struck, guilt ate at him, only imagining what his cousin must have went through, finding out that his own father was a villain and his mother was kept in a glass coffin beneath the house. He had been certain that the news must have crushed his cousin. Felix had reached out, but he had never received a response.

So here he was, two years after the incident, looking for his idiot cousin. As stubborn as Adrien might be, Felix had found out that he was staying in an apartment in Paris, living with a girlfriend. He never found out the girl’s name, but a small part of him said that it must have been Marinette. The thought alone made his heart ache.

So lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the person headed his way, also lost in her thoughts. The two of them collided and went stumbling back. Felix shout his hand out, grabbing the  woman by the wrist and steadying her before she could go falling onto the sidewalk.

“I am so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going! I didn’t mean-” The words died on his lips as soon as the woman stood and met his gaze with large, beautiful blue eyes. “Ma- Marinette…?”

Marinette stood there, looking rather stunned as she stared up at him. She had grown into a beautiful woman, her soft lips a beautiful rose, those jewel blue eyes of hers framed by long, dark lashes. She was about a head shorter than Felix, her shapely body clothed in a white blouse and black pencil shirt. She looked so.. So womanly, almost nothing like the stuttering girl he knew years ago. 

“Wha- Felix? Is that you?” She sounded stunned as her hand tightened on the umbrella she was carrying. He wondered if she wanted to beat him with it. He wouldn’t have stopped her. To his surprise, her face broke out into a breathtaking smile. “Felix, how are you? You’re looking great. Wait, weren’t your eyes green when I last saw you?”

“I-I usually wore green contacts.” He explained. His mother had always hated his grey-blue eyes, saying they weren’t as perfect as Adrien’s. So she had always forced him to wear contacts, and he had done so without complaint, until he had moved out of the house and moved into his own place. He had felt so free. “You’re looking great, I see you outgrew your pigtails.”

“Yeah, I thought when I got into lycée, I could use a change.” Marinette reached up and touched a lock of her dark hair, which now brushed against the base of her back. Felix had been right, she looked beautiful with her hair down. 

Soon the two adults just stood there in awkward silence, not looking at each other. Cars drove by, and people brushed past. The silence was almost deafening to Felix, he wanted to continue this conversation, but didn’t know where to take it. Besides, who would want to talk to a guy who hurt you so badly in the past?

“Would you want to grab a coffee?” Marinette reached out a gently touched his arm, the smile returning to her face. Felix felt the blood begin to pound through his veins, rushing to his ears, making him feel as if he were about to go deaf. Completely oblivious, Marinette continued to rush out the words. “I mean, you’re probably busy, but I wanted to catch up, you know, since we haven’t seen each other in so long.”

“Coffee would be great.” Felix spoke up before she could sputter out more and embarrass herself. He took her hand without thinking, only to quickly drop it, visibly flinching. “I'm sorry.”

“Felix…” Marinette stared up at him, reached out for him, but he stepped away. 

“Let’s go get that coffee, shall we?” He muttered, turning on his heel and walking away. His heart ached with every step, but he had to remind himself that she was with Adrien, and who would want a monster like Felix?

…

The two of them got their coffee and walked around as they drank and chatted. Marinette told him about how she was an up and coming designer in France, Clara Nightingale and Jagged Stone being the biggest amongst her celebrity clients. Felix had known she was the infamous MDC, a designer that had taken the world by storm with her designs that made anyone rush to buy them. He even had a few of her designs in his closet. Felix went on about telling her how his family had suffered much because of the scandal of Hawkmoth, that they were basically shunned by the world, even though they had had no part in what Gabriel had done. He had quit modeling, much to his relief, and now was still trying to figure his life out, to not be on the path his mother had tried to carve for him.

“I’m sorry… About your uncle.” Marinette whispered,  taking a sip of her coffee loaded with sugar. Felix rose a brow at her, and she flushed. “I mean, it must have hurt, to realize that he was a villain.”

“I couldn’t care less about my uncle. He was a selfish bastard that only thought about himself and his needs, he didn’t care about anyone else. His goals as Hawkmoth made that very clear. I just hope Adrien had gotten that memo.” He shrugged, tossing his now empty cup in a nearby trash can. Marinette chugged down the remainder of her coffee before doing the same. “How is my cousin, by the way? I couldn’t get a hold of him.”

“Oh… I haven’t seen Adrien in two years, since… Since his father was arrested.” Mari whispered, fiddling with her hands as she stared down at her boots.

“What? I thought you were living with him…”

“What?” The word came out in a laugh when Marinette met his gaze. There was an amused twinkle in her eyes. “Where in the world did you hear that?”

“W-well, I heard that he was living with a girlfriend. Since you’re in love with him, I only assumed…” Felix trailed off, closing his eyes tightly in regret. 

“Felix…”

He remained quiet.

“Felix, look at me.”

He opened his eyes, and realized where they were standing. 

On the very bridge where he had kissed her and had hurt her so greatly.

Regret came rushing back.

“Felix, I stopped loving Adrien years ago. I… I fell in love with someone else. I realized that Adrien would never saw me as anything more than just a friend.” She whispered as she reached out and took his hand.

Marinette thought back to the final battle with Hawkmoth, to Chat Noir’s reaction when Ladybug, as the Guardian of the Miraculous, had ripped the pin out of Hawkmoth’s shirt and Gabriel Agreste had been sitting in his place. He saw the despair in pain in his eyes, and it clicked who her partner had been. But she had remained silent, letting the police take the man away, and had done her best to comfort the sobbing Chat Noir.

A week later, he had messaged her, telling her to meet him at the top of the Eiffel Tower. She had, and he had demanded that since Hawkmoth had been defeated, they should reveal their identities to each other. They weren’t in any danger anymore, what was the point with the secrets now?

Ladybug had smiled sadly at him, but agreed. Grinning. Chat Noir dropped his transformation and Adrien held out his arms wide, as if to make a spectacle of what Ladybug already knew. But the confirmation had only made the wounds on her heart sting more.

“Isn’t it amazing, my lady? Now we can finally be together, like we were destined to be! We can live happily ever after now, and have a big wedding, as well as-”

“Adrien, I can’t love you. I don’t love you, because you don’t love me.” Marinette smiled sadly at the model. He turned to her, a look of confusion on his face.

“What do you mean, my lady? I’ve always said that I love you, I never once lied.” He urged, reaching out for her hand. But she took a step back, widening the distance between them. 

“Because you said to me that you could never love me. That I was only a friend, and that was all I could ever be.” She whispered, meeting his gaze. She watched the wheels spin in his head, before the horror filled his eyes and he slowly shook his head.

“No… Please, no, don’t tell me…”

A flash of pink light and Marinette stood before him, a bittersweet smile on her face. Adrien looked ill as he reached out for her.

“I’m sorry, kitty, but… I was in love with you. With you, Adrien, I had been since the first day we met. But on the day Felix came, I realized that you’d never love me for me. You were too lost in a fantasy of Ladybug that even if I told you who I was, you’d never want me. You’d only want Ladybug.”

“No… No, my lady, I love you!” Adrien frantically grabbed her hand, pulling her close. “This is all Felix’s fault! He was always jealous of me, because everyone compared him to me! He was saying stuff because he was jealous, my lady, whatever he said was a lie!”

“He didn’t say anything! In fact, I think he was more honest with me, even when he was pretending to be you!” Marinette snapped as she tried to tear herself free from his grasp, to no avail.

“What, don’t tell me you actually love that monster! He lied to you, my lady, he didn’t care about you for a second! He used you for a cruel joke, then when he got caught, he played all sorrowful, but he’ll always be the same, selfish, pompous asshole of a cousin that I had, who acts out like a brat because he’s jealous!” Adrien gave Marinette a hard shake. “I love you, he doesn’t! He probably doesn’t even remember you, most likely trailing along some other girls for a laugh! You’re nothing to him!”

“Adrien, you’re hurting me, stop!” Marinette felt hot tears prick her eyes at Adrien’s words, but knew they weren’t true. If it had all been a joke, he wouldn’t have taken the time to come to her home and apologize, right? He had cared in a way… Right?

“I love you, Ladybug!” He shouted, sounding frantic now.

And Marinette stared at him with large, teary eyes, before a bittersweet smile spread across her face. She hugged him, holding him close, before moving to grasp his hand. Adrien visibly relaxed.

“You see, my lady? I love you more than anything, I’ll do anything to protect you, as your knight in shining armor…” He whispered.

“I’m so sorry, kitty.” She whispered back, taking a step away,his ring firmly in her grasp. Her blue eyes then hardened and she transformed back into Ladybug. “As the Guardian of the Miraculous, I hereby strip you, Adrien Agreste, of your Miraculous. While you fought nobly, you have never taken your duties seriously. You often treated it as a game. I understand, Adrien, why you did. It was a freedom to you, but you never fully realized how big of a job it was. Hawkmoth is now defeated, and Paris is finally at peace. I thank you for your aide, Adrien.”

“N-no, you can’t do that! I am the true Black Cat holder, we are soulmates! We are meant to be, Ladybug, please!” The boy begged, reaching out for the ring, only for Ladybug to jump up onto the railing, keeping the ring out of his reach.

“You were never a true Black Cat, Adrien. I’m sorry, I really am… But I think right now, with all that has happened, it is too much for you. You’ve become unhinged due to grief, and I wish you well, and hope you build yourself a lovely, peaceful future, Adrien..” 

Adrien screamed after her as she left him on the Eiffel Tower. Later that night, she cried herself to sleep. He had tried to get the ring back, but things got so intense, she had threatened to get a restraining order. Adrien had backed off right then and there.

Marinette blinked, being brought back to the present, before  she shrugged, her smile sad, but she gave Felix’s hand a squeeze. 

“I found myself thinking about someone else. Someone who I really shouldn’t have. I thought I didn’t know him, since he lied to me, but then I thought back to my conversations with him on the date he took me on. About how he loved classic literature, how he loved big dogs and wanted as many as he could get, once he got his own place. A guy who probably felt… So Neglected, because everyone was comparing him to the cousin they thought was so perfect, when he actually wasn’t.” 

Felix felt his throat tighten and his eyes burn as sudden tears welled up. Then he cupped her cheek in his hand.

“Mari… I thought about you every day since I left. I hurt you so badly, Marinette, I was awful and selfish and spiteful. My family never let me live it down, yet you’re here, so nice and forgiving… Why? Why are you forgiving me, I don’t deserve that forgiveness!” Felix’s was thick with tears as he pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers.

“I don’t know. But… You could definitely make it up to me, by letting me know you. The real you. Not Adrien, not the Felix your family tried to mould you into, just you.” 

“How a-about a date?” Felix whispered, a shaky laugh leaving him. “A movie, and some ice cream?”

“I think that sounds great.” Marinette beamed, but glanced up when thunder boomed overhead. Rain began to pour, and both broke out into laughter. “Here, hold on.”

Marinette opened the black umbrella and held it over the two of them. Felix smiled, and pulled Marinette against him. Sharing a smile, he pulled the woman who had taken a hold of his heart into a warm kiss, a kiss that meant he wanted to build something with her. Something genuine and true. Her returning the kiss made his heart soar and he knew he had found someone who finally wanted him, Felix Agreste, for himself.

Taglist: @vixen-uchiha @kuroko26 @theatreandcomicfreak @poshplumcot @bluerosette23 @ladylb @riarkle-felinettelove

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Hurt, pt. 12 (E.D.)

Summary: Ethan’s therapy session is filled with memories of his progress with Y/N as time goes by, unaware of the trouble looming on the horizon.

Warnings: ANGST, fluff, talk of depression and anxiety, mentions of sex

Word Count: 2900

A/N - We’re getting closer to the end guysss! I’m not sure how many parts there will be yet, but I know the story is ending soon, so be ready for anything.

Hurt - Masterlist

“How does it feel being back home?” Ethan’s therapist questioned, her hands folded in her lap as she observed him like she could tell everything that goes through his mind just by one careful look.

“It’s been…It’s been an adjustment.” Ethan fidgeted, his fingers spinning an invisible ring – the place his wedding band used to belong in. If it were up to him, he’d wear it again, but he didn’t want to put pressure on Y/N or make her uncomfortable.

But he didn’t lie. It’s been an adjustment.

Sleeping alone in the house he shared with Y/N proved to be a difficult feat. First of all, Ethan couldn’t bear to be in the bed where he used to make love to her. Hell, he couldn’t even look at the damn bed anymore. So, he stayed in the guest room. Second of all, the problem with their guest room is that the window looked out to the guest room in Grayson’s house and that meant every move made in the room had captured Ethan’s attention.

It was torture to be so close yet have no right to touch her or hold her or even tell her he loved her. He never knew there was something so cruel in this world as distance - not in the actual sense, but emotional distance.

However, by the time morning rolled in, Ethan was ready to eat. Breakfast was usually Grayson’s specialty and so, without thinking twice about it, Ethan set off to his brother’s house to eat.

The moment he crossed over the bridge, Ethan’s heart dropped. Quickly, he hid behind the closest tree, looking at his beautiful wife get into someone else’s car. He couldn’t tell who it is, but he noticed a man behind the wheel.

Watching her drive off in a car he didn’t recognize, Ethan felt his chest shake before it spread to his arms and legs. Grayson told him she might be moving on, but he didn’t know it was happening so fast.

But what could he do? He had done the same thing if not worse. Saying anything on the subject would only push her away and he needed her close…he needed her to stay. Ethan knew he couldn’t be a hypocrite and call her out when he was the reason why all this happened in the first place.

No…Ethan knew he had to be smarter than that. He would have to play this game of chess with strategy and patience, not brute force.

“So, uh…I just saw Y/N leave with some guy.” Ethan decided to strike up a conversation with Clara, knowing she’s the only one who has a reliable source of information. Y/N would have told her if there was something to tell.

“She’s going out for breakfast, to schedule her ultrasound and she’ll be back soon.” Clara wasn’t trying to hide anything, but she didn’t want to betray Y/N in case she wanted to keep her and Edward’s relationship a secret.

Ethan saw right through her though. Instead of making a fuss, he just placed his hand over Clara’s.

“Clara, please.” The desperate plea had toyed with Clara’s heartstrings. She had always loved how perfect Ethan and Y/N were together. Their relationship was like a million piece puzzle - rare and beautiful. Some pieces didn’t fit at first, but they found a way to bridge those differences and Clara already saw them as the happy, grey couple their grandchildren would boo about whenever they kissed, shamelessly in love fifty years later.

“Fineee. She’s seeing someone and it’s nothing serious, but I think the guy is really into her. It’s more of a friendship with mutual feeling involved that aren’t developing on her behalf because she doesn’t want relationships.”

“How does that make you feel?” Ethan nearly rolled his eyes at the question, annoyed with just how open she’s asking him to be. It’s one of those things he’d rather lock in a small box and push it as far back in his mind as possible, but then he remembers…that’s exactly how he got to this point.

“Like I want to cry.” Ethan chuckled, rubbing his palms together forcefully tight, aware his therapist easily picks up on these tells and he was oozing anxiety.

“It’s not a pleasant feeling to know that I’m sharing her with someone. It’s not pleasant knowing she’s not mine to share at all. That I’m a footnote of her life and not a priority anymore.” Sighing, Ethan bit his upper lip, dragging his teeth across the soft, plump flesh with such anguish that any fool could see how hurt he is.

“I suppose I deserve it, though. I did the same to her. This is just a taste of my own bitter medicine.” Chuckling, he shook his head.

“You feel like you deserved this? Ethan, we’ve talked about this. Depression is an illness. You didn’t ask for it to happen to you. You certainly didn’t want to burn your life to the ground, but you were barely in control.” But Ethan snorted, letting out a heavy breath.

“Yeah. I know. And most times I can differentiate what thoughts are mine and what stems from depression…but I don’t understand how I kept it at bay for so long. When Y/N was with me, I was…managing. But a horrible, dark part of me wanted to rid of her. And I did.” Ethan rubbed his chin, his hand sliding down his neck, the veins in his arms prominent from constant anxiety-filled muscle tension.

“You told me you felt best in the morning and evening.” She reminded, smiling softly. “You also said it’s when you two would be intimate which is quite impressive for a couple. It explains a lot – from how close you two used to be and it explains those moments of clarity too.” Leaning forward, she rests her elbows just above her knees, her kind smile never relenting. “Sex leads to orgasms and orgasms cause a massive release of happy hormones – endorphins, serotonin, and oxytocin. Those hormones allowed you those moments of control and clarity. When she left, you had lost them and you tried to recreate them with Bianca but that failed. That’s why you spiraled so fast.” Ethan couldn’t believe this. But it made sense. Y/N had given him a high and he felt like himself when they were making love, when she was wrapped around him and he didn’t know where he begins or ends because all his senses were aware of only her existence. But after highs come the lows and he’d get lost in the darkness consuming his mind.

“You’re telling me Y/N was my shield against darkness?” He spoke quickly, a little bit of attitude and disbelief in his words. He couldn’t believe that all the times his mind tricked him into thinking Y/N might be the reason why he’s miserable were all lies, that it was a way to chase away the one good thing that kept him afloat. And he had ruined it. He succumbed to the evil voices inside his head.

“Precisely. Which is why it’s so hard to see her be that shield for someone else now. But you need to learn to be your own anchor Ethan. She can’t be your light, even if she does forgive you.”

“Yeah. But I can’t help but feel giddy whenever she grants me some mercy and does something nice for me.”

“Hey.” Y/N made sure she had a genuine smile as she spoke to Ethan, especially because the reason why she wanted to talk to him was a joyous one.

“Hey there! You’re glowing!” Ethan exclaimed, and not just because the sun was shining literally right above her head. She had truly never been as beautiful as she is now and he may be partial considering she’s carrying his babies, but he’s also learning to value true beauty in the world all over again and she was by far the most enchanting.

“Oh Gosh, stop that. I’m already showing as if I’m a month ahead than I really am. I’m only halfway there and it feels too much.” She complained, her forehead wrinkling in worry, self-consciousness. It’s definitely something he used to help her with. Ethan would kiss the wrinkles away until a smile replaced her scowl, then he’d tell her just how stunning she is and how he’s the luckiest man in the world.

But he couldn’t do that now.

“You’ve never been more beautiful.” That didn’t mean he couldn’t compliment her and watch a deep pink tint appear on her cheeks as she looked away shyly, smiling softly at his words.

“I wanted to thank you for being so hands-on lately.” She changed the topic, not wanting things to get awkward. Thing between them have been running smoothly and she was happy to know she could count on him.

Every chore she needed to be done, he’d accompany her. If it was grocery shopping, he’d be the one rushing around the store with the full cart, reaching all the high shelves because he refused to risk her and the babies. It was a nice reminder of their routine from before, except they used to race in the carts before and considering Y/N’s state, that was out of the question.

Every craving she had, Ethan made sure it was satisfied. He’d be sneaking into Grayson’s house at all times, delivering things she texted him about.

And they do text. All the time. Mostly at night. It helps them both – Ethan to feel less lonely, Y/N to fall asleep easier. While she does wake up frequently to pee, so does Ethan. It feels like they barely sleep, but it’s allowed them to rebuild. Nothing better than eating together at 2 am to bond.

“You know I’d do anything, right? Anything you need, baby-related or not.” Ethan adds for good measure because he needed her to know she could count on him. He never even mentioned any of the times he had noticed her slip away in the same strange car. But he didn’t want her to depend on someone who she had just recently met. No matter how bad things get, Ethan would still go the distance for her.

“I know.” She stepped closer hesitantly, standing in such proximity that Ethan could see that small freckle inside her eye, the one she never noticed until he did. God, he loved that freckle so much.

“So, I was thinking…If you’d like…You could accompany me to the ultrasound?”

“It’s the first time I got to see them. I cried like a baby and it was humiliating but so worth it.” Ethan smiles softly at the fond memory, his eyes trained on a small crack in the wooden floor.

“And she’s been pretty comfortable with me touching her belly after that which makes me just as happy. It’s especially important because I was with her for the first kick.”

Leaned up beside her belly, Ethan continued to talk to it. He always used the smallest, gentlest voice to coo at his babies because he claimed anything louder might scare them. It made Y/N laugh endlessly, rewarding him with that sweet sound on top of everything. He was never quite as sure why she was giving him this because it was more than he thought he deserved. But he was grateful for it. Endlessly grateful.

“OH MY GOD!” Y/N jumped at the weird sensation, instinctively grabbing Ethan’s hand to place his palm against her stomach only for his previously confused look to turn gleeful when he got a small kick for his effort.

“LITTLE ASSKICKERS LOVE ME!”

“We both cried then. Cried and laughed at each other as we sat on the porch swing with her half draped over my lap and my hands all over her pregnant belly and I can’t remember the last time I was so blissfully happy.” Ethan lifted his gaze to his therapist, feeling she’s got her eyes on him.

“It’s good that you’re getting closer, but I have to ask. Have you been drinking since you’ve been out?” Her questioned had weighed on him. He had started drinking to numb his pain before he had lost Y/N, but it was a few times a month really. He didn’t want to scare his wife at the time. But when she left, Ethan began drinking in hopes of feeling something because he had numbed himself into submission by then. Submission to a cruel mistress – depression.

“No.” Ethan was proud to say that and have it be true. While he did feel the itch to do it, he knew it would be stupid, especially with the medication he’s on. He didn’t want to risk the progress he’s made with Y/N either. It wouldn’t do him any good.

“And have you actually tried to talk through things with Y/N?”

“We’re getting there. She’s six months pregnant now. I’m working on her time, not my own. I can’t be so selfish and ask her to talk to me all the time.” Shrugging, Ethan did have something to share though.

“But we did agree on a Katniss – Peeta thing.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, his therapist seemed to be dumbfounded by his reference. “Katniss – Peeta thing?”

“Where do we even begin?” Y/N’s voice is small and laced with insecurities and Ethan hated when she’d get that way, especially if he was why she got that way.

“Remember when Peeta had his mind messed within the Capitol and he and Katniss decided to fact check his thoughts and memories by stating something and she’d tell him if it’s real or not?” Ethan spoke fast, excited to present this idea that stemmed from a long weekend of watching movies and having sex on the couch between each part – sometimes more than once. They used to be so insatiable, so needy for each other.

“Yeah.” She spoke a little too slowly, a little unsure where Ethan was going with this.

“We could do a similar thing. No question is off the table and we get to ask each other something based on what we’ve been thinking and how correct that thinking is. It would avoid any future misunderstandings for sure.” Ethan could tell when it clicked for her, noticing her eyes widen a little and her lips curl into a small smile.

“So…If I were to ask something as scandalous as…You didn’t run into me by accident that day on the beach when we first met, you’d say?” She rose her left eyebrow in question, her lips pursed in a sassy-looking pout, knowing she had gotten him in a checkmate position.

“True.” As soon as he admitted to it, Y/N broke into a giggle fit, managing to squeeze in an accusatory “I KNEW IT” in the process. Ethan laughed as well, more because he had been denying that for years and she had finally found out the embarrassing truth.

“Yeah, but I saw you and you looked like a goddess. Grayson told me not to even bother but when he sent a ball a little too far I decided to ‘run’ into you. I never meant to put you in the hospital that day, I’m so sorry!” Ethan apologized again as if he hadn’t apologized a thousand times that day when he managed to dislocate her shoulder. He tried to do it the safest way possible too! He had wrapped his arms around her waist and threw himself onto the sand first and her on top of him. How could he know she’d wrap one of her arms a little too far around him and that it would pop her shoulder out like a Barbie doll in the process.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m glad you did it. Everything…the good and the bad…it’s gotten us here. We’re laughing about it all.”

“As long as it works and you two are honest about everything, I’m fine with that.” Standing up, she ended the session, allowing Ethan to leave.

It’s been a long time since he felt good about a therapy session, but he truly felt like he came a long way from where he was that nothing mattered anymore. It’s not always rainbows and butterflies, but he felt his heart is full and his door was always open for Y/N to come if she wanted to be home. To his utmost pleasure, she used the door more often than he expected.

Getting in front of the elevator, Ethan’s phone vibrated. Fishing it out of his pocket, he smiled when he saw Y/N’s face light up his screen. He missed her already and he was always happy to hear her voice.

However, his smile was erased once he picked up the call.

“Hey! I was just –“, he didn’t get to even tell her that he was thinking of her as her panicked voice interrupted him. His heart dropped with her words, his insides twisting.

“I ne-need you. Ethan, it’s bad. Th-there’s b-blo-blood and no one, no one’s home.”

Tags: @melodiesforari​​​​​​​ @brittttneyyyy​​​​​​​ @beautorigin​​​​​​​  @dolandolll​​​​​​​ @xalayx​​​​​​​ @godlydolans​​​​​​​ @heyits-claire​​​​​​ @peacedolantwins​​​​​​ @dolanstwintuesday​​​​​​ @accalialionheart​​​​​​ @ethanhes​​​​​​ @lanadeldolans​​​​​​ @ebbach-03​​​​​​ @dolangels​​​​​​  @xxaamzxx​​​​​​ @cutestdolans​​​​​​ @yaren-ates​​​​​​ @dolansmith​​​​​​ @vintagebitttch​​​​​​ @primadolangirl​​​​​​ @caqsicle​​​​​​ @jjustjoy​​​​​​ @justordinaryjen​​​​​​ @graydolan12​​​​​​ @imaginashawnns​​​​​​ @graysonslovie​​​​​​ @fandomsfeministsandothershit​​​​​​ @bdsmdolan​​​​​​ @graysavant​​​​​​ @ethanspillow​​​​​​ @dopedoodes​​​​​​ @anything-dolan​​​​​​  @sugarfootdolan​​​​​​ @joyrivh​​​​​​ @reblogserpent​​​​​​ @jonesana​​​​​​ @emiemille  @herewegoagainandagainandagain​​​​​​​ @adventureswithmell

[cncoh-damn]

Petals in the Wind

Summary: You didn’t mean to catch feelings, so you did the only thing you could: run.

Word count: 4,256

Tags: @richukisbb @whymyeyeslikethat @zaddydejesus @zabdielsdimples @cncownerxcr7 @streamdecero @marveloucnco @cncoxpmxvibes

Request: “Of course it meant something.” [Anon]

Warnings: Angst, Google translated Spanish, a bit of blood (nothing too graphic, but still) due to the nature of the Hanahaki disease, a fictitious illness in which one vomits blood and flowers when they believe their love to be unrequited.

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(H/c) hair spread out onto the mattress as your form continued to shake from the force of your coughs. Tears prick at your eyes as yet another purple lilac joins the bloodied mess of flowers on your floor. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Damn it, (Y/N), you just had to go and fall in love with him. You just had to catch feelings for him.

It’d only been a month or so ago since you last saw him, since your skin last touched his, since his eyes bore into yours. It’d only been a month since you realized that you fell in love with Zabdiel, and the thought horrified you. Cold sweat covered your hands when the realization hit as you two indulged in one another’s company, the hairs on the back of your neck immediately standing on end the second your thoughts began to veer too closely to romantic intentions.

Just a month ago, you two were curled up on his bed, the TV playing some movie (or was it a show?) that neither of you really paid attention to at this point. He had an arm around your waist, back against the headboard as you tucked yourself into a ball by his side. You shift around a bit, trying to find a position that’s comfortable for both of you before he sighed, picking you up and depositing you between his legs. A tiny squeak left your lips that time, not necessarily used to being in that spot. By his side or on his lap were your usual places, never in the space between his legs; that was something he usually reserved for his girlfriend. But you don’t think much of it, especially when he pulls you to his chest, his chin resting on your head.

“Zabdi?” You mumble, prying one of his large hands off your waist to play with his fingers. He hums in response, the sound reverberating from his chest. There’s a question on the tip of your tongue, but you figured it’s best not to voice it out. Not yet.

“(Y/N)?” He asks, nudging you. You shake your head, lips pressed into a line.

“No importa. Nos quedamos aquí?” Your attempt to steer the conversation somewhere else works, and he shrugs, something you feel rather than see.

“Quieres ir a algun lado?”

“Not really.” And then, after a quick beat, “I can’t feel my legs.” That gets a snicker from the blond, and he’s quick to scoot the two of you towards the edge of his bed, where he promptly drops you onto the floor.

You remember being a bit miffed that he did so, but one look at his face, one glance at the smile that lit up his features the way his random statements would light up yours, and your heart clenched. Another beat longer and you feel something ticklish in the back of your throat, almost as if bile began to rise and force its way out of your mouth. With some difficulty, you rise to your feet and scramble into his bathroom, a hand clasped to your mouth. You don’t notice the worry overshadowing the grin on his face as he follows you, don’t notice the way his brows furrow when you shut yourself in there and begin retching into the toilet.

How could you notice when flowers begin to tumble past your lips, your blood splattered onto the petals? How could you notice the worried knocking on the door when you remember the stories of people dying from heartache because of the flowers that grew in their lungs? How could you notice anything other than the sinking feeling of dread that threatened to consume you because you fell in love with your best friend?

Minutes feel like hours for both you and Zabdiel, his worry increasing the longer you stayed inside his bathroom, and you coming to the realization that you had no idea how to deal with this. You stay in there for almost thirty minutes, but to both of you, it felt like an eternity.

Hanahaki disease. It wasn’t a rarity, even if no one you knew—sans Calla—had ever been afflicted with it. There’s no telling where or how it originated, but everyone knew there were only two (three, if you’re being optimistic): have surgery to remove the flowers and your feelings for your beloved or die. That was when you knew what choice you had to make.

It’s painful to walk out of the bathroom and lie to him, far more painful than to cough up those purple lilacs. It’s painful to leave his house and know that you won’t be there to say goodbye when he leaves for tour again. It’s painful to imagine the look on his face when he realizes you lied to him, but it was for the best.

It’s for the best that you take yourself out of the picture, distance yourself before he realizes exactly what it is that you have. It’s for the best that you keep it to yourself, moving away from him and everyone else you knew to spare them from knowing about your inevitable death.

And that’s how you found yourself in Seattle, living in a tiny house you bought with some help from one of your friends who used to have Hanahaki as well. It’s tucked away in Downtown Seattle, someplace you’re sure the guys would never have a concert or stop or event in. Of course, most people would stop there, but not you.

It wasn’t enough to simply put as much physical distance between you and Zabdiel, you needed to stay away from anything and everything that could possibly remind you of him. To you, that meant blocking him (and the boys) everywhere. It meant deleting his number from your phone and blocking it, but when that wasn’t enough, you changed your number.

And now that you’ve fully isolated yourself from everyone you loved, you figured you’d be able to stop the flowers from growing and choking you to death. It didn’t.

No matter how much you tried, there would always be something that reminded you of him, be it a flash of blond curls or a dimpled smile. And every time you glimpsed a reminder of him, you felt the flowers grow some more, felt their roots digging into your lungs and making breathing so much more difficult than it once was.

It’s only been a month and yet you’ve completely wasted away, ribs poking out against your skin as an entire month of consuming nothing but soup and water showed its effects on you. This wasn’t how you expected your twenties to go, living in a constant state of fear and sorrow that you would die alone because you forced yourself into isolation.

It’s only been a month and yet you’re sure your days are numbered, that death would come for you far sooner than anyone would’ve thought. You knew it. You felt it in every bloody cough, saw your demise approaching in every petal, every flower that fell from your lips.

Never did you think you’d be willing to die because of love, yet here you are. But it’s worth it, you think. It’s worth it to choke on those flowers that prove your love is unrequited because it means the last memory you’ll have of him is one where he was happy and content while in your presence.

Your coughs get louder and your breathing gets more desperate as darkness begins to blanket the edges of your vision. Blood drips down your chin as another lilac joins the ones on the floor, though you hear the jingle of keys just below your loft. Weird, you weren’t expecting a visit from anyone. As you pass out, your heartbeat quickens once you hear his voice calling for you.

⁠—⁠⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—

When you didn’t show up the day he was going to leave for tour, Zabdiel worried. But the rational part of his mind said something probably came up, that you were just running late. Besides, if you weren’t going to show up, you would’ve told him. Right?

Wrong. You didn’t show up that day, and you didn’t text him either. It was only when he tried to contact you did he learn that you blocked him from, well, everything. And it wasn’t just him, either; you blocked the guys as well as the rest of your friends. He tried to contact your parents, but all they told him was that you left without saying where you were going or if you’d even come back. And it’s not like you gave them a choice either; you were long gone by the time your parents read the note you left them. 

He tried, he really did try to find you, to figure out what happened. Hell, he was even tempted to ask the CNCOwners for help, but Clara and Renato talked him out of it. Despite that, the thought still crosses his mind, especially when the days stretch into weeks, and the weeks have turned into a whole month.

A whole month since he left for tour.

A whole month since you vanished into thin air.

A whole month since the day you ran into his bathroom to cough and retch.

That day started innocently enough; he invited you to hang out for the whole day before he had to leave and you accepted. You always did, putting your friendship with each other before anything else. It’s one of the things that he loved about you, one of the many things about (Y/N) (L/N) that made his heart quicken and warmth flood his veins.

A movie played in the background, some documentary on the Hanahaki disease that you two found after a while of scrolling through Netflix. Not that he paid much attention to it, not when he had your smaller form snuggled up next to him. It was almost perfect, really. Calm and quiet except for the white noise of the documentary. And then you mentioned not having any feeling in your legs. He wound up dropping you from his bed, and that was when it went to shit.

Something changed in the brief span of time you two held eye contact with each other, and he didn’t know what, because the next thing he knew, you were running into his bathroom, coughing and retching noises muffled yet audible through the door. He couldn’t even go inside to see if you were okay because you locked yourself in, something that made him worry more. Did you have a stomach bug? Ate something bad? What was wrong? Were you sick?

All these questions and more flooded his mind but he couldn’t even find a single answer to any of them. The longer you stayed in there the greater his unease grew, almost to the point that he actually considered using the lockpicking kit you gave him once when you were younger. Just when he made up his mind to ransack his room in search of it, the door swung open to show you, a cheery grin on your face despite the pallid hue of your skin. Somehow, you managed to avoid any and all of his attempts at asking if you were sick, always waving it off by saying that you were fine or by asking him questions about the upcoming tour. Both of you knew this was out of the norm, but with you being so persistent that you really were fine—“No es nada, Zabdi, really!”—he had no choice but to drop it.

“Estaré en el aeropuerto mañana, si?” You told him as he saw you to the door, a smile on your face that seemed almost too bright to be real. Though skeptical about the state of your well-being, he had faith that you would show up, that you would keep your promise. Maybe if he didn’t agree and bid you goodbye that day—for what was possibly the last time—you wouldn’t have disappeared like that.

Was it something he did?

Was it something he said?

Or worse, was it something the fans did or said about you online that made you disappear like that?

In all his years of knowing you, Zabdiel would never have taken you for the type to suddenly disappear with no rhyme or reason, even despite your penchant for ditching a situation when it made you uncomfortable. If you ever needed space to yourself for any period of time, he was always the first person you’d tell, be it through a post-it or a text message. And Zabdiel always told everyone when you needed to be left alone for a while, something you did for him when he wasn’t in the best mood. It’s a somewhat odd friendship you two have, one where you could isolate yourselves and yet still be around each other. People were always quick to notice it, and quicker still to ask if you two were together. For the longest time, both of you denied it wholeheartedly, but it was during one of his breaks from touring that he began to want more than the close friendship you two shared.

Though he was unsure as to what changed, why he began to see you in a new light, he embraced it, sneaking bits and pieces of intimacy into the time you spent together. That day, the day before he left, he made up his mind to tell you how he felt. That plan promptly got thrown out the window when a sudden bout of vomiting decided to pay you a visit, and out of worry for your health, he decided to push back his confession. It could wait until tomorrow, he reasoned. Hell, maybe he could confess as soon as he got back from tour, assuming that you still didn’t have a boyfriend (which, knowing you, would be a reality and not just an assumption).

Then you disappeared. Virtually unreachable, except to those you told of your location, and he wasn’t on that list. He knew because your parents told him you were fine, that you suddenly needed to be left alone for a bit so you didn’t tell him. It didn’t make sense then, and it sure as hell didn’t make sense now; why would you want to distance yourself even from him?

Just as he’s about to tug on his blond curls out of frustration, there’s a knock on his door. Really, he wasn’t going to answer it, but whoever was in the hallway was persistent, their knuckles repeatedly hitting the wood of the hotel room door until he stood up and opened it, only to find one of your mutual friends on the other side.

Calla’s doe-like eyes are wide with panic, and he lets her into his room without much question. Last either of you two heard of her, she went to the US for a surgery to get rid of the flowers in her lungs after an unrequited love turned fatal. Still didn’t explain why she was here though.

“It’s (Y/N),” she says, and suddenly he tenses.

“You know where she is?”

“Si, pero no tengo tiempo para explicar, Zabdiel. We have to get to her.” Whatever the cause behind the worry and fear on her face is enough to spur him into moving, grabbing the room key and his phone before following her out.

They get into a cab, one that Calla paid double to just so the driver would break the speed limit, and throughout the drive, Calla kept glancing at her phone, one hand thrust into her pocket as worry continued to crease her forehead. As he opens his mouth to ask what was wrong, the cab stops, and if he wasn’t so worried about you, he would’ve been surprised that the brunette managed to haul him out of his seat.

She takes him towards a small (literally, it could pass for a trailer) house, one that she apparently has the keys to, judging from the ease with which she unlocked the door.

“She’s in there,” Calla tells him, hand clutching the key in a vice grip. “Tienes que hablar con ella, por favor. Ella no me está escuchando a mí ni a nadie más.” That was all he needed to hear to enter the house, calling your name but stopping in his tracks when he sees bloodied flowers on the floor. There’s a ladder next to them, and something tells him he’d find you up there.

Bloodied flowers. Was that why you needed space? Because you had Hanahaki? He hears a thump from the loft, and despite all the prayers his mind screamed to all the saints he knew, there was no denying that that sound most likely came from you. As much as he wanted to deny it, he had to see for himself if you really were okay, had to see you again.

And despite knowing that you were coughing up flowers for an entire month, nothing would have prepared him for the sight of you laying on a mattress stained with blood—your blood—and surrounded by even more flowers. Flowers whose purple petals were almost unrecognizable due to how much blood coated them. The first tendrils of fear begin to settle in his mind when he notices your closed eyes and labored breathing, and he throws caution to the wind.

Cradling your frail and limp form in his arms, it’s a bit of a struggle getting from the loft to the main floor, but he manages. Outside, Calla paces up and down, her face aged with worry that turns into terror when he emerges with an unconscious body. Your unconscious body, to be precise, and Calla doesn’t waste time in calling 911. They’re quick to respond, and not ten minutes after his arrival at your hide-out (which Calla confesses to have helped you buy), the three of you are in the hospital.

There’s nothing more that they could do, is what the doctors tell them. They can’t operate without your consent, and even if it kills him to leave, he does, praying to God that you wake up.

—————

The last thing you remember before passing out is hearing Zabdiel’s voice. Then the next thing you know, you’re waking up in the hospital, wires hooked up to your body as the sterile smell of medicine assaults your nose. Next to your bed, the heart monitor beeps as it keeps track of your pulse, and you look around.

It’s just a plain hospital room, the TV mounted on a table at the far corner of the room showing a game of futbol. That was weird; since when did Calla watch futbol instead of volleyball? Just then, the door opens and in comes the very person you’ve been running away from: your best friend and first love, Zabdiel de Jesus.

He doesn’t notice that you’re awake, talking in rapid Spanish to someone on the phone, and suddenly, the futbol game makes sense.

While your physical appearance has changed in the past month or so, it’s easy to see that Zabdiel still looks the same. Well, except for the bags under his eyes and the worry creasing his brow, but you’re quick to dismiss it as your fault. After all, what friend—dios, who knew a single fucking word could hurt so much?—wouldn’t worry? You quite literally vanished from the face of the planet, all because you couldn’t deal with the fact that you fell in love with your best friend. As soon as that thought enters your mind, you start coughing again, blood and flower petals leaving your lips as Zabdiel rushes to your side, phone call forgotten.

“(Y/N), está bien. Estoy aquí, estás a salvo, estarás bien,” he says, a large, warm hand rubbing your back as you continue to expel whatever clogged your lungs. Your coughing fit continues for a while longer before you can finally breathe—well, as much as you could with flowers in your lungs—and once you can, you look up at him, shame filling your (e/c) eyes.

“Lo siento, Zabdi,” you whisper, eyes darting down to the blood and purple lilacs scattered in front of you. “No quería que supieras sobre esto.” And it was the truth; your decision to cut him out of your life stemmed from two points, one of which was his career. You didn’t want him to worry about you and have it affect him, negatively or otherwise, though it seemed like he did worry even despite your best efforts.

“¿Qué te ha pasado?” He murmurs, his hand now carding through your limp hair. The action is familiar, almost painfully so, and it nearly triggers yet another coughing fit when you realize that this was something he probably did with his girlfriends or one night stands, and that makes your chest ache with the growth of yet another root. 

“Hanahaki,” you tell him, voice still not coming above a whisper. “I... I didn’t want you to worry,” you continue, feeling tears well up in your eyes as you wonder what he had to tell Clara and Renato, or if he even told them.

“Los médicos dijeron que necesita cirugía si quiere sobrevivir,” Zabdiel says, still stroking your hair as he sits down next to you on the bed. “Quieres operarte?” He’s hoping you say yes; there’s no way he’d be able to handle losing you like this. No way he’d be able to handle seeing you die as flowers, the proof of your love being unrequited, suffocate you with their bloody growth. To his horror, you shake your head, a sad smile on your face.

“No quiero olvidar cómo se siente el amor, Zabdi, incluso si duele.” The smile looks painful, and he gets the sinking feeling that you’re about to have another coughing fit. 

“But you could die,” he shoots back, a frown marring his features as the hand in your hair stills.

“We’re all dying anyway,” you quip, a forced chuckle leaving your lips soon after.

“Not this young, nena.” The nickname slips out before he could stop himself, and you feel yet another stabbing root growth in your lungs. 

“I’ll take my chances.”

“Pero por que, (Y/N)? What for?”

“It’s better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all,” you offer as a reply, quoting Shakespeare in an attempt to lighten up the mood. Silence settles in the room for a while, tense and almost as suffocating as the flora still growing inside your body before he speaks up again.

“Who is it?” And here comes the dreaded question, one you hoped you could avoid. There’s no way you could successfully lie to him, no possible answer that would make him believe you should you try and trick him. Instead of doing that, you keep your gaze firmly fixed to the blankets covering you, pale and chapped lips pressed into a thin line of defiance. Upon noticing that you had no plans of telling him, Zabdiel sighs, getting off the bed and making his way to the door.

“I’ll tell the doctors you’re awake.” As he opens the door, something propels you to whisper three little words, the same words that you knew would be your undoing.

“I love you.”

The second those words are out in the open, Zabdiel freezes mid-step, and for a moment, you’re afraid that he might not take it so well. That worry only grows when he turns around and walks back to you, his face unreadable as his hands cup your cheeks.

“You mean it?” Never have you felt this small before, and all it took was him staring into your eyes with an intensity you swear was only reserved for the girls he was romantically or sexually interested in. Of course, him holding your face meant that you couldn’t look away unless you planned to wrench yourself away from his hold. With all the wires hooked up to you, that wasn’t going to happen.

“Si,” you mumble, eyes screwed shut so you didn’t have to see his reaction. Not that you needed to see it, because the next thing you knew, there was something on your lips. Your eyes fly open at the sensation, and dimly, you register the heart monitor beeping as your pulse picked up. 

That thing you felt on your lips? Zabdiel’s own, and his eyes were closed as he kissed you. Slowly, skeptical as you were that this was actually real, your eyes slid shut as you tentatively begin to kiss back, although he breaks it soon after. Suddenly, it’s like you two are in your own little bubble once more, alone together as you block out the rest of the world. His forehead rests against your own, your breath intermingling with his as you try to make sense of what just happened.

“Did that mean something to you?” You ask, not quite ready to believe that your feelings were actually requited. Zabdiel only shakes his head, pecking your lips once more before he replied.

“Of course it meant something, mi amor. I love you, (Y/N). Te amo mucho, mi vida.” And there goes the waterworks on your end as you pull him in for another kiss, this one longer and now, painless, for the flowers that once grew in your lungs disappeared as quickly as they bloomed.

Perhaps you shouldn’t have run. Maybe then there wouldn’t be so many bloodied petals in the wind.

[sparklyaxolotlstudent]

Karma Chameleon? I dunno... 

First Part:

https://sparklyaxolotlstudent.tumblr.com/post/182697194270/first-miraculous-ladybug-fic-i-write-chameleon

Next part, still in the Chameleon episode. I suck writing action scenes, so I’m going to be lazy and say that the fight scenes and Lila’s akumatization happened pretty much the same way, with the only exception being that I’m going to try to keep this from Marinette’s POV, so she doesn’t know Adrien did confront Lila, and technically her akumatization was his fault I still blame Lila, but still)

Also, I’m sorry to use Marc as my mouthpiece, but he’s a) a school friend of Marinette, b) the only character that wasn’t directly involved in the whole “banish Marinette to the back” and c) we don’t have a good gauge of what his personality could be.  I headcanon him as being similar to Marinette, so while he is still shy and unassuming with his crushes, he is comfortable around friends he trusts, he probably wouldn’t try to defend himself if he were in Marinette’s position, but he also won’t hesitate to cut a bitch if someone mistreats his friends.

SO!

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After the akuma attack of the week™, Marinette felt a bit better, especially after learning that Lie-la had been the “victim”. And to be completely honest, if she had learned Lie-la was the victim before, she probably would have left her as a clam… at least for a few days… but Tikki would have gone ballistic… and Lie-la would be playing the victim even harder with their classmates. At least she wouldn’t be lying this time... heh.  

Lie-la had accepted her attempt to befriend Ladybug and stop lying, but Marinette was 99% sure she hadn’t been sincere, and she was pretty sure this wouldn’t be the last time she got akumatized. She also couldn’t help but wonder if Chloe or Lie-la would get a third Akuma form first.

Arriving at the school, of course Lie-la was playing the victim card to all their class. She was 100% sure now of her lying to Ladybug’s face. Marinette was a bit surprised the class hadn’t built a palanquin to transport Lila. At least not yet. She had to admit it was a bit admirable how she managed to convince them to pity and admire her at the same time, despite everyone in there having experienced akumatization first hand already. And being saved by Ladybug. And most of them knowing Jagged Stone AND Clara Nightingale. And a couple of them knowing Prince Ali.

“Of course Ladybug saved my life. She never misses an opportunity to rescue her best friends!” Marinette rolled her eyes so hard it was practically audible. Marc grinned at Marinette’s reaction, and they both chuckled. Marinette felt much better having Marc and Nathaniel at her side, even though Nathaniel was currently doing something else.

“Ladybug saves everyone” Alya said to the group. Lila nodded in agreement, but it was clear she had been annoyed by that comment.

“Didn’t your tinnitus give you vertigo when you went up the Tower Eiffel?” … Was Max trying to catch Lie-la too? Maybe Marinette should give her friends the benefit of doubt.

“Oh no. Ladybug knows me so well she brought me an earplug to stick in my right ear”

“Wasn’t her left ear this morning?” Wondered Marinette out loud. Marc looked at her and just shrugged. Adrien appeared out of nowhere.

“Are you going to tell everyone?”

“uh?”

“That Lila is a liar. Exposing her will only humiliate her and she’ll just be hurt more. Making a bad guy suffer has never turned them into a good guy.”

“But… Ladybug called out Queen Bee on her BS and it actually made her reconsider and turn into an actual hero? I mean, as heroic as Chloe can be, but still a step in the right direction.”

Marinette blinked in surprise, and she realized that Chloe hadn’t done anything with Lila the whole morning, even though she was all touchy feely with ‘Adrikins’ and was stealing her spotlight. Maybe Chloe *was* changing for the better?

“And are you seriously implying that Lila’s feelings are more important than Marinette’s?”

“What” Both Marinette and Adrien had said in unison, surprised.

“Adrien, in case you didn’t notice, Marinette had a miserable morning because your whole class, you included, shunned her to the back. It wouldn’t be so bad if Lila had an actual disability, that’s life, but she doesn’t, so Marinette suffered for NOTHING and now you come here and say …”

Marinette was quick to hug Marc before he reached a meltdown… or attracted another Akuma. She didn’t want for him to go super villain on her behalf.

“Dude, relax. I’m pretty sure Adrien wasn’t trying to say that. Lila is the one in the wrong.”

“Fine!” Marc returned the hug and calmed down. “But you’re still in thin ice Agreste.”

The school bell rang and everyone walked to their classrooms.

Marinette and Adrien arrived at their classroom. She went to her place at the back, and couldn’t help but notice that Alya was avoiding eye contact, as was Nino. She was surprised to find Nathaniel already sitting in her bench.

“Uh… Not that I mind but…”

“I tried to convince Alix that you should sit with us. We three are small, after all, and I doubt Miss Bustier would object to that…”

“… but?”

“Alix and the others are still mad at you for earlier, and want you to apologize, which, to steal a  quote from Chloe, is ‘utterly ridiculous’… and long story short, now they’re kind of mad at me too.”

“I’m sorry”

“You don’t mind me sitting me here, do you?”

Marinette smiled at Nathaniel and took a seat at his side.

“Of course not! Don’t be silly”

Adrien was looking at them, but resigned himself to sit with Lila. What Marc had said had made him think. Was he being a bad friend? Exposing Lila would solve anything? He couldn’t finish thinking when Lila clung to his arm like a leech.

Class finished normally after that, with Miss Bustier agreeing to Nathaniel switching seats. A couple of the others had given them the stink eye, but Marinette couldn’t care less. She had actually had a fun time sitting with Nathaniel, and they almost got in trouble when Nathaniel laughed when Marinette told her about Marc’s outburst, and Marinette also laughed when he told how he called him out in a similar manner. “He said a couple of words I won’t dare to repeat.”

They found Marc out of his classroom and the three of them walked to the entrance of the school, where Alya and Nino were waiting for Marinette.

“Hey girl… can we talk?”

“Yeah?”

Alya and Nino eyed Marc and Nathaniel, clearly intending them to go away. Marinette shook her head ‘no’. “Anything you want to say to me you can say in front of them.”

Alya sighed. Nino reached for his neck, clearly nervous.

“We’re sorry on how we acted today” said Alya finally. “What we did… what I did… that’s not how friends should treat each other. And you are completely right about me not checking my sources, I took Lila’s videos down until I check with Ladybug, but even if she’s telling the truth, it doesn’t mean I was right in posting them. We didn’t do it in front of the class because we didn’t want to put you in an awkward position again in case you don’t want to forgive us, which we totally understand, but we *will* apologize in front of everyone if you want us to.”

“And it was unfair to send you to the back to accommodate Lila, when only I was the one that needed to move. In fact, if you want we can switch tomorrow.”

“Thank you Nino, but no. Nathaniel got in a fight with Alix because of me. I don’t abandon friends just because someone else appears.”

Alya and Nino looked at Marinette awkwardly. Marc and Nathaniel were expectant witnesses. Marinette seemed unsure herself, but a flush of emotions rushed through her. Alya was her first real friend, and Alya had supported Marinette a LOT of times, including that time with the giant baby and their crazy scheme to get a date with Adrien… and time she stole Adrien phone… and that time she deleted Alya’s video and her phone ended up in a trash can too… Alya had forgiven Marinette instantly that time, she wasn’t even mad. Alya and Nino had apologized, after all, and it she really didn’t want to throw away their friendship just like that.

“Of course I forgive you both, don’t be silly. It would take more than that to break our friendship.”

“I promise to be a better friend from now on”

“Yeah, me too dude”

Alya and Marinette hugged each other, while Nino bumped fists with her. Marinette was glad to have her best friend back.

--------

I know people want to see Alya punished, but honestly? I don’t think Marinette is a person that hold grudges(for long anyway) She seems pretty chill wtih Chloe(who made her life a living hell for four years prior the series) and doesn’t seem to hold any ill will to the classmates who never had her back before. Alya was the first to had her back in that sense, and she has screwed up a couple of times too, which is also important to note, she’s not perfect, but she’s far from the demon I have seen some people make of her. And Adrien... most salty fics I have seen for some reason give Adrien a pass on his passivity.. not me! Boy has to suffer so he can change for the better!

[hopeishappinessff]

Holding Onto Hope: Chapter 46

Chris

The spearmint gum in my mouth became a distraction. The buttons of my phone became a toy. The annoying tick of the clock on the wall became my fixation. She knew I didn’t want to be here… I knew she didn’t want to be here. But she stared at me through those thick black frames, thin lips pursed in a way that made them almost disappear completely and brows creased into a frown of either irritation or repulsion. However the hell she felt towards me right now, I… did… not… care.

She released an aggravated sigh through her nose and I through my mouth. What the fuck was the point of this again? Did they really think this was going to benefit me? How? How was sitting here in this sterile, overly extravagant ass office going to benefit me at all? I mean, I didn’t have anything else going on today, but really… anything, anything was better than being back in this place… sitting across from this woman.

“Christopher…”

I cut my eyes at her, losing count after one hundred and eighty ticks on that clock. Three minutes… it took her three minutes to finally speak the hell up and acknowledge that I was indeed sitting in front of her.

“You are aware that this is mandatory for your treatment plan, yes?” She asked.

“I’m aware.”

“Well… I need you to cooperate with me.”

Turning my head to fully face her, I tilted it curiously and watched her blankly. With yet another sigh she dropped her gaze, obviously too intimated by the cold, hard stare of a former ex patient. She wasn’t even qualified to do this job… I knew she wasn’t. The bitch couldn’t even be professional enough to look me in the eye for more than a few seconds at a time. I shut my eyes for a moment, counting slowly to ten in the back of my mind while thinking about how rude it was of me to silently call her out of her name. But… I just really didn’t like her.

“I am cooperating, Dr. Stevenson.” I muttered, parting my lids and staring at her with the politest smile I could muster.

“Well… can you please answer my question? How have you been?” It took a lot of will power for her to do this job, or maybe it just took a lot of will power for her to deal with me. Either way, she really sucked at this and I really didn’t want to be here.

“I answered your question. I’ve been fine.”

“You know that I need you to elaborate Christopher. You only have an allotted amount of time with me and you need to use it wisely.” It was clear to see that she was annoyed, but what I suppose she didn’t realize was… I was probably more annoyed than her. What did she mean I needed to use my time with her wisely? I didn’t even see the need to waste my time with her in the first place.

“Honestly… I didn’t ask to come here today.” I said simply, because it was really just that simple.

“But, as I just stated, the post-therapy sessions are mandatory. If you are unable to complete the remainder of your program Christopher, you will automatically forfeit any time that you’ve spent here.” She explained. Her explanation was the first thing she’d said in the fifteen minutes I’d been in her stupid office that actually caught my attention. My left brow lifted with interest…

“What do you mean?” I asked.

She smiled and if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of humor in the way that her paper thin lips curled… like she found it comical that she’d lowkey just threatened me.

“You would have to begin the program from scratch. And… you would not be eligible for early release.”

I watched her closely, feeling the anxiety slowly crawling through my core like a sloth with long, sharp nails. Hearing her say that, listening to those words… hurt. I would never, ever, set foot in this institute again… not anywhere past this office. For her to sit there and happily threaten me like that, knowing how easily it could trigger me… it made me want to give in to the urge to let go. I wanted to let go and allow my demon to overcome me right there in her face because though I didn’t think anyone in life deserved to face that side of me, I believed she did.

“I’m not coming back here, Dr. Stevenson.” I damn near whispered, finding it suddenly too difficult to find my own voice… Chris’s voice.

“Then you will cooperate… and communicate.” She sat back in her chair triumphantly as if she’d just conquered me with her words. I hated to admit it, but she did just that… and I despised her even more for it.

“Now… how have you been?” She repeated the original question, which I’d answered… twice.

“I have been fine. I’ve been taking my meds as prescribed and I haven’t had an episode.”

Her smile was broader than ever now and she finally turned her attention to the notepad propped against her crossed leg as she began to scribble away in it. As much as I disliked this whore, I didn’t feel as much resentment toward her notepad… not like I felt about Dr. Yates’. My stare found its way back to the ticking clock above the window and I thought about how much I hated that damn notebook. It held so many thoughts, memories, stories, and secrets. Its pages were bound together by pain… my pain and yet, it was the one thing that led me to where I was today… freed from this hell hole. I wondered what the inside actually looked like, how Dr. Yates made sense of my senseless world in it. I smiled. Dr. Yates… I missed her dearly.  

“That’s wonderful. And the dosages… effective enough, but not too low? We want to be sure that you are able to function to your full capability.”

“The dosages are fine.”

Keeping her head low, she cut her eyes up at me and I sighed through my nose and rolled my eyes away from her… this elaborating shit was about to get her cussed out “They’re effective, but not too low.”

I wished that she would wipe the smile off her face. It made me feel like she believed it was all thanks to her that my story was turning out so good and Lord knows, nothing good that was happening to me was thanks to her. I almost laughed at the thought, until she cleared her throat and glanced at me from her notepad.

“Your home life… how has it been?”

“Wonderful. All of my friends and family have been very supportive.”

“Your girlfriend, Hope… have you been in contact with her?” She asked. It didn’t sound right hearing her name come from those painfully thin lips. It wasn’t intentional, but I frowned as soon as she finished asking the question. I felt suddenly disrespected by what she’d said.

“Yes, I have been in contact with Sy’Diyah.”

She stayed silent and blinked a few times, obviously caught off guard by my bold correction of Hope’s name. I never granted her permission to call her that and I needed her to be clear that she should never do it again.

“You have been in contact with her?” She reiterated.

“Yes I have.”

“It was a recommendation that you not simply jump right back into communicating with her…” “By who?”

“The board…”

Scoffing aloud and rolling my eyes with a deeper scowl, I shook my head and glared at her “That wasn’t a recommendation from the board Dr. Stevenson.”

“It was, Christopher. Clara made it very clear during your preliminary hearing that it wasn’t a good idea for you to talk to her so soon… or see her at all.” She thought she had me there. Of everything else this lady said to me today in this office, she would not dare fix her lips to tell me that I had to stay away from the mother of my child.

“But you were there during my final hearing, were you not? You heard her clearly clarify that everything she said to me in the prelim was a test. She did not recommend that I stay away from Sy’Diyah.”

“Okay… well… it is with my recommendation that you limit your contact with her in your day to day life. It is for both her benefit as well as yours.”

Chuckling softly with the hint of a warning, I straightened my posture in the hard leather chair and leaned forward to cross my hands against the surface of her desk.

“With all due respect Dr. Stevenson, I don’t give a fuck what you recommend. You will not keep me away from her. She is the mother of my child and the love of my life. She is the only person who has the power to keep me away from her, not you. Your recommendation is greatly appreciated, but you cannot and will not force that on me.”

Shocked wasn’t even the word to describe the expression on this lady’s face. Her eyes were wide and her lips were just barely parted as she sat there staring at me, obviously stunned by what I’d just said. I wasn’t supposed to say any of that. I wasn’t supposed to even feel, but here I was associating with love… no matter how strong the dosages were they prescribed me. These, illnesses, may have taken away my ability to be independent, my ability to be normal, and even my ability to be sane… but it would never take away my ability to love. That’s something Dr. Yates understood and respected… my ability to love was the one thing that actually held me together. But here this lady was, trying to unbind me right at the seams by taking my love away… heartless bitch.

After an awkward moment of silence, she finally dropped her notepad down onto her desktop and cleared her throat “Well, I think this should conclude our session for the day.”

I was chuckling softly and rising from my seat before she even had a chance to complete that sentence. This lady was a complete joke and she somehow managed to remind me of that every single time I saw her. See, the way she operated, things were supposed to go her way at all times when she counseled her patients. She was supposed to be able to soup them up on these ridiculous medications, feed them a bunch of bullshit when she got them all alone, then she would claim to have cured them. Her degrees and certifications were all a lie and I was confident she attended an online school that wasn’t reputable.

“Fine by me,” I muttered, shifting closer to the door and further away from Satan herself, “Oh and when you get a chance, can you tell Dominica hello for me. The last time I saw her, she mentioned something about a session with one of the in-house therapists and she didn’t seem too happy about it.”

The look on her face when I glanced back over my shoulder was priceless and it took everything in me not to double over with laughter. I didn’t even give her another second to attempt to gather a response before I was swinging the door open and marching out into the hall.

I smirked at the empty space after shutting the door behind myself. The feeling was indescribable as I stood there in the middle of the building as a free man, something I never thought I would witness. There was no security guard waiting outside the door to escort me off to my room… no nurse lingering off in the corner with a shot pack to subdue me for the rest of the day. Only my mom just a few feet up the hall in the waiting area, smiling pleasantly and almost glowing as I neared her.

“Hey baby, how did it go?” She beamed excitedly. She looked way too happy for this initial session, for whatever reason, and I didn’t want to burst her bubble by relaying the news that it actually went to shit.

So, I delivered my most charming smile and shrugged casually “It went alright.”

We didn’t stick around much longer, though the front desk receptionist seemed to have been engaged in some sort of lively conversation with my mother and mistakenly thought they could continue it even though I was clearly ready to go. Thankfully my sessions were all prescheduled and we didn’t really have a reason to linger, so without further ado I turned that same charming smile onto the over bubbly receptionist as I politely pushed my mom out the door.

On the way to the car, she joked that I must be excited for our next stop, but in all honesty… I dreaded that perhaps a bit more than the forced ass session with Dr. Stevenson. Somehow, without my knowledge, the night before she’d contacted Jaylen’s other grandmother and set up a time for us to go by so I could visit with him for the first time since I’d been home. Was I excited to pay a visit to my first-born because I hadn’t seen him in entirely too long, of course I was. Was I excited to see his mother who I was sure would be there because surely her mother told her about the plan… hell no.

The last time I’d seen Gabby was well before I took off to Syracuse at the beginning of last summer. I had no idea if she knew anything about my life as of late or if she even knew that I was back in town. My mom assured me that everything would be alright because the last time we saw each other, we were able to be cordial and her attitude had surprisingly changed for the better. But a lot can change in the span of a year… including her attitude.

I sat slouched in the passenger seat with my arms crossed and my mind lost in thought as my mom softly hummed along to the John Legend playlist she had in rotation. Her gentle hums were soothing and somehow managed to keep my nerves somewhat in check, but the moment her sleek graphite infiniti turned down the familiar street my stomach churned with uneasiness and I found myself nibbling harshly into the inside my bottom lip out of nervous habit.

“You do know that everything is going to be fine, right?” She asked. With a sigh I sat up a bit straighter and glanced over at her and her smirking face.

“I hope so ma.” I mumbled.

She pulled into the empty space behind a dark colored family sized SUV in the driveway and turned to face me after she’d put the car in park.

“Honey,” She started, her over exuberant attitude almost wearing off on me… almost, “Everything will be fine.”

I wanted to take her word for it, I really did. But something in the back of my mind and the pit of my stomach was seriously telling me otherwise. Slowly and reluctantly I followed her lead and climbed out of the car, pausing briefly to stretch my legs and really just to kill time. Why the hell was I this nervous? I just really dreaded the thought of trailing behind her to the front door, but I did anyway like a child who just got scolded in the car.

She rang the bell and almost as if she was sitting right there by the door awaiting our arrival, Gabby’s mother pulled the door open within a second flat with a smile.

“Joyce, how are you dear?” Her Spanish accent was thick and laced just about every letter of every word she spoke. I cringed at the sound of it because it reminded me of her daughter.

“Hello Gloria. I’m blessed honey. How have you been?” My mom set a foot through the threshold of the door and leaned in for a hug. Mrs. Jimenez embraced her so tight you would really think they were long lost friends.

“I’ve been wonderful carino. Please, please… come in.”

I followed along quietly behind my mom with my hands wedged into the front pockets of my pants, hoping that by some chance I could scurry along behind her without this lady saying anything to me. But as luck goes in my world, with hope comes despair… and before I knew it I could feel the petite frame of Mrs. Jimenez cuddling against me as she curled her arms tightly around my body.

“Well look at you, you handsome hombre joven,” She said once she stepped back and gripped on to my arms to get a good look at me, “Such a good looking young man, you are. Even more handsome than I last remember.”

So, the thing is, I never had any beef whatsoever with Gabby’s mother… surprisingly. All the drama I dealt with was with Gabby directly and her mom was just kind of always there, obviously supporting her daughter because… that’s her daughter. But oddly the lady had always been very fond of me, thus the reason I stayed in this very house for a week after learning of Gabby’s pregnancy back in high school. Mrs. Jimenez somehow created a fairytale story in her mind that me and her daughter would have Jaylen and live happily ever after. My… how that fairytale turned out.

“Thank you.” I mumbled with a tight-lipped smile. She finally released me from her grasp and I quickly made my way right behind my mom into the familiar living room. I wouldn’t quite say Mrs. Jimenez was a hoarder, but I swore she was borderline. She just had random shit all over the place throughout the house, most of it being some type of trinket in honor of their Spanish heritage. It made me feel claustrophobic really, because it felt so over decorated which made the otherwise large house feel significantly smaller. I wondered for a moment how I’d never considered how much of a hazard that had to be for my son…

Naturally I turned to the left at the sound of babbling and tiny laughter and I couldn’t fight the urge to grin stupidly. Jaylen was much bigger than I remembered, seeing as he was a year old now, and my heart raced because I felt like I was staring at a miniature replica of myself. His mother lightly held onto his hands from above while he walked as quickly as his little body would carry him into the living room. She was really barely holding on and my heart went from racing to swelling at the sight… he was walking now… my son was walking!

“You’re walking now Jay!” I muttered excitedly, forgetting momentarily that there were three other people in the room.

My mom was giggling somewhere beside me on the couch and Mrs. Jimenez was clapping and cheering from the other side of the living room. But the only thing I could focus on was Jaylen and his smiling, drooling little face.

He was such a smart kid, I knew that much, but what I wasn’t completely confident about was his memory. Would he recognize me? Was he old enough to remember my face? Or would he consider me a stranger and cry if I got ahold of him? Before I knew it, he’d waddled his little way right up to my legs and snatched his hands out of his moms grasp to reach up for me. He lost his balance in the midst of his excitement and tumbled softly to his bottom.

“Uh oh Jay, it’s okay. Stand back up baby.” And at the sound of her voice, I finally looked up into Gabby’s face as she lingered a few steps behind Jaylen with her hands on her hips. I’m sure she could feel my stare on her face because she eventually looked right back at me and smiled a tight-lipped smile.

“Hey.” She mumbled.

“What’s up.” It wasn’t much of a question… and I prayed she wouldn’t actually answer that. Thankfully, she didn’t and if I wasn’t mistaken, homegirl went as far as rolling her eyes as she swung around to go claim a seat on the other side of the room near her mother. My brows furrowed on their own accord for a split second, but then I felt the tiniest little hands against the front of my pants. Looking down, I bit into my bottom lip to refrain from grinning like a complete fool and watched like the proud father I was as Jaylen supported himself with the fabric of my jeans and pulled himself right back up onto his feet.

“Good job man.” I said as I reached down to scoop him up. I was terrified for a second because I just knew once he got a good look at my face and realized he didn’t know who the hell I was, he’d go flying out of my arms and over to my mom. But what surprised me and left my heart swelling to the point that it literally felt like it would explode… he climbed right out of my hands to get to my chest where he leaned to support his body, while his tiny hands gripped each side of my face. And when he didn’t waste a second leaning forward and meshing his dribbling mouth right against mine, I just about cried. He knew me… he wasn’t afraid of me… he trusted me… he, alone, in all his little one-year-old glory, reminded me what it felt like to be loved, not judged. He didn’t care about my mishaps and fuck ups; it didn’t matter to him that I’d been in a crazy house over the past six months. The purity and innocence of a child, so raw and rare… untainted and untouched by all the rest of the world and its corruption… I couldn’t take it.

I held him to my chest and shut my eyes, basking in the silent love shared between the two of us while the three spectators quietly watched. Really, I would be fine if they all just left him and I to enjoy our time together, but… Lord knew that wasn’t on his mother’s watch.

“How have you been Christopher?” Snatching my eyes open, they landed right on Gabby and I stared at her blankly. Christopher… really? I sighed through my nose… oh yeah, she was my ex who was probably still bitter with me.

“I’ve been pretty good. How have you been?” I wasn’t going to be childish with her. We would keep this conversation as cordial as possible while I enjoyed this moment with my son, then I would be right back on my way. She smiled at me, but didn’t bother to say another word and I’m sure the silence became awkward for everyone, but I kept myself occupied with Jaylen bouncing up and down in my lap and slapping me repeatedly on the shoulder. He seemed to be having the time of his life, just laughing and slapping, so I laughed with him and let him practically beat my ass as best as a one-year-old could.

Some type of small talk sparked between my mom and Gabby’s mother, but I noticed that she remained fairly silent. She thought she was slick, staring at me like a damn creep, but I could feel her eyes penetrating the side of my face. At first I wasn’t going to entertain her piercing eyes, but see the way human nature works… I could only sit there so long, knowing the girl was looking dead at me and not look at her.

I glanced, barely, to the right and within the span of half a second caught her sitting there with her lips twisted to one side as her eyes danced all over my frame. What the hell… was she looking at? I didn’t even mean to get caught up looking at her, but I couldn’t help but notice the obvious differences. Her hair wasn’t as long as I’d last seen it nor was it as dark. As a matter of fact, it was blonde now… different shades of blonde, which was strange to me. She was still the exotic beauty I started dating back in my junior year of high school, but age and life had taken its toll on her… but in a good way. The girl really did look great, but… I felt like I was cheating just from the thought of that. I’m not sure how long I was staring at her as she stared back at me, dare I say… smirking, but when I did spot the corner of her lip lifting mischievously, I dropped the fuck out of my head and tuned right back in to Jaylen.

“So Chris, how’ve you been since you’ve been home mijo?” I guess that was my cue to hop into the ongoing conversation because Mrs. Jimenez had just said my name. I looked over at her, almost caught off guard when it registered to me what she’d just asked. I wasn’t at all aware that she knew anything about what was going on with me, so I glanced quickly at my mom only to discover that she was looking everywhere but at me and the apples of her cheeks were just guiltily rosy. I almost rolled my eyes.

“I’ve been really good?” Vague Chris… keep it vague.

“That’s so good carino, when Joyce explained to me everything that was going on, my heart just ached for you.” She said with brows bent with sorrow.

Well what the fuck all did Joyce tell you, ma’am I wanted to blurt, but bit into the sides of my tongue to prevent the outburst.

“What do you mean everything that was going on?” Gabby asked suddenly, cutting her eyes at her mom, “What all was going on with him?”

I could see the look my mother gave her mother and my heart dropped… what the hell was really going on? I was confused, to say the least, and clearly so was Gabby… but why? If her mom knew the obvious circumstances of why I was away, why didn’t she?

“Gabriela, please…” Mrs. Jimenez said her name with the underlying hint of a warning and cut her eyes at her, “It’s just so good to see you. And I see someone is happy to see their papa.”

Smirking, I glanced down at Jaylen, temporarily forgetting about the awkward exchange that’d happened only a few seconds ago. My little bundle of peace is what he was, it amazed me to believe this kid had such a phenomenal ability to take my mind off of any and everything. I could get shot right in the arm and if Jaylen was sitting in my lap, I swear I would forget all about the pain. I decided to become lost in him in that moment and I also decided I would no longer engage in any further conversation from here on out. I would keep my eyes on Jaylen and if Gabby felt the need to stare at me like a freak, I would simply have to ignore it.

I could hear murmuring voices, which meant they’d sparked up some new conversation… or maybe it was a continuation of whatever they were talking about before. I wasn’t sure, but my interest had been peaked by Jaylen attempting to hold himself up with my nose. This kid was a hoot and it wasn’t hard to tell exactly where he’d gotten his humor from.

Though my mother and Mrs. Jimenez continued to converse quietly in the background, I continued to ignore them with hopes that neither of them would drag me back into the mix… until I heard the key words “Chris… Sy’Diyah… expecting.” That got my attention in about a millisecond and the moment I raised my gaze, it naturally landed on Gabby. The mischievous smirk she wore earlier was gone and in its place was a scowl so deep, I prepared myself for the verbal lashing that in the past would often accompany that expression.

“Hold up,” Because in true Gabriela fashion, she didn’t give a damn if my mother or even her own mom sat in the same damn room… if she had something to say, she was gonna be sure we all heard it, “You’re having a baby with that girl?”

Mrs. Jimenez and my mother both went silent and awkwardly enough, all eyes were on me. They were, waiting for me to respond? I mean… if the two of them were sitting over there talking about it openly, what did they need to hear from me? Not to mention I didn’t feel the need to confirm or deny anything because I didn’t feel like it was any of their business.

Not bothering to open my mouth to speak a word, I nodded and watched her curiously. I wasn’t really sure why, but Gabby looked like she was about to burst at the seams. Like she was seconds away from lunging across the room to attack me. Was she upset? Last time I checked, I thought we were able to be cordial with each other and I assumed the co-parenting thing wouldn’t be so bad because she’d been doing it with my mom while I was away. But, I guess maybe I thought wrong.

“You’re fucking crazy!” Gabby blurted, catching us all off guard. Her mom gasped dramatically and my mom’s eyes bulged and immediately shifted to me.

“Gabriela, watch your language!” Her mom screeched.

“No, jodas eso! (No, fuck that) Mama, he’s crazy. You said yourself that he was going through shit in some crazy house somewhere. Oh dios mio, this is what you get… this is what you get! You leave me for that stupid puta, leave me here to raise a son alone… and now you’re having a baby with her! She’s probably the reason you ended up in that place anyway. You weren’t crazy like that with me!”

What the fuck was happening? What the… before another thought could sweep through my mind, I felt the weight of my son suddenly disappear from my lap and I stared wide eyed and horror stricken as Gabby snatched him away from me. It was entirely too chaotic really, the way she cradled his now whimpering frame close to her chest and began to pace the floor across from me. Her mom now sat there with her hands cupped at her mouth, eyes glossed over like she was the one who’d just been completely humiliated. My mom was now rising from her seat beside me, glaring across the way at Gabby. I wasn’t sure if she was about to go attack the girl or what, but the crimson in her cheeks and the frown on her face were just a few preliminary signs that she was about to go off.

“Gabby, enough! I will not sit here and let you disrespect my son that way. You ought to be ashamed to even be saying half the things you’re saying in front of your own son.” She fussed.

I felt so stupid. Frozen, horrified, and stupid and I couldn’t even bring myself to form a single coherent thought to defend myself against this girl as she continued to bash me to hell.

“And this puto ought to be ashamed that he got so consumed with that whore that he forgot all about his child. I don’t know what she did to you, culo loco, but I will not allow my son to be near you. You need to leave!”

That shit right there… those exact words… that was my biggest fear. I felt like I was outside my own body in that moment. I was floating over the scene, staring down at myself cowering away from the mother of my first child as she spoke one of my biggest fears into existence. She was going to take my son away from me because she did know that I had been in an institute. She knew about that… but she didn’t know about Hope’s pregnancy… it was all coming together now. But the funny thing is, Gabby hadn’t reacted this way until she heard the part about Hope having my baby. She sat there all along, clearly aware of all the details of my absence. Hell, I guess the girl thought I hadn’t noticed the fucking coy little smirk on her face earlier… the same coy smirk she would wear when she was ready to entice me. My posture straightened and my out of body experience ended abruptly… this bitch was playing all of us. The confidence rose just before I did and before I knew it, I was standing face to face with her and the tables quickly turned… now she was the one to cower away.

“You need to calm down Gabby. You and I both know you didn’t have a problem with me being in a mental institution, because I was in there to get my life together. You were just sitting over there thinking that… thinking about how you could get back into my life and how maybe we could make it work again.”

It was her turn to stare on in complete horror. She blinked rapidly and looked as startled as a cat as I busted her out on her shit. I may have been all fucked up in the head and yeah, I may have been crazy but one thing I was not was stupid.

I edged closer to her and she couldn’t go anywhere else because she’d backed herself up against the couch “Don’t sit here and try to put on this show for anyone Gabby. You’re mad because she’s having my child and you know there’s no chance for you. You will not keep my son away from me. Try it… and see what happens.”

I glared at her, long and hard, unblinking and all… then leaned in to kiss Jaylen on the back of his curly head of hair. His whimpering stopped abruptly and he sat up and swung around to face me. His tiny little face lit up and he grinned a three tooth grin at me, reaching his stubby arms out for me to take him. I could only smile at him as I took a step back with my hands now wedged into my pockets.

“Daddy has to go now Jay. But I’ll see you later, okay.” My eyes shifted back to Gabby, who had yet to take her eyes off of me, and I smirked.

“Now you figure out how to explain to my son that he’s not allowed to see me anymore… and let me know how that goes.”

I turned my back on them then, Gabby, her mother, and Jaylen and made my way to the door with my mom right behind me. Jaylen whimpered a few times then suddenly burst into a nasty onslaught of tears and the sound vibrated painfully through my chest. I don’t know how, but he was more attached to me than I would have ever imagined and it literally broke my heart to have to leave him. But that’s what his mother wanted. She told me I was fucking crazy, told me to leave her house and she wouldn’t allow her son to be near me. So now, I would leave and give her some time to sit and listen to the loud wails of the son she’d just selfishly torn from his father.

[espercnza]

another muse that makes up for ollie nd sab being biches bc dis one is pure love, sunshine and rainbows and everything nice :((((((

illness tw

[ if i die young: muse a | camila morrone, female, she/her ] — have you seen clara esperanza luna, the medical student around oxford yet? i hear the twenty three year old can be  delicate and gullible, but those who know them insist that they are perceptive and compassionate. rumour has it that she persuaded her doctor to lie about her condition. is it true? only time will tell.

her name means clear hope ( clara esperanza )

which is honestly so pure nd soft i wanna cri about it

nd her surnames means moon ( luna )

i just wanna  :(((

n e way back 2 her

she’s fun loving, adventurous and free spirited ( think margo from paper towns )

sneaking out of her house nd all that fancy jazz

it isn’t a house... it’s a goddamn estate

she likes ballet, singing, painting, sailing she luvs the sea sm, animals and such

she has such a weakness for animals?? like if she sees one on the road she’d instantly adopt it

but that never happens bc her parents r super super strict

like ??? u can never go out of the house clara no

like she never got a debut into high society too bc her parents got rlly paranoid about it

so only a select people ( for example: the balfours bc they’re business partners. ) actually know she’s rich af?

which is what she wants anyway bc she’s rlly down to earth and really doesn’t care for the money nd crap

which is why she found a way to escape

she’s an only child

which makes her even more precious to her parents

oh and her family r like old rich folks

even her parents don’t know how or why they rich?? they just are

??? they’re into tons of businesses and invests a lot

so their money basically goes around

OOPS

BUT

THAT

MONEY

COULDN’T

SAVE

THEIR

LITTLE

GIRL

bc here comes the sadness....

ok so one night clara went on her usual night routine.... getting out of the house

nd she succeeded with a help from her friend (ari) :((((

sadness tw illness tw wound tw

it was a fun night like the usual but when she got home her parents were waiting by the door and noticed a cut on the side of her arm ?? that she was so desperately trying to hide

nd like the over reacting parents they were

they took her to the hospital immediately nd the doctors run some tests that clara insisted she didn’t need but?? parents?? do they actually listen?? nO NOT HERS

nd when they got the results back??? the doctor was all :(((( i hate to be the bearer of bad news nd crap but ur daughter is ill.... very ill....

she has chronic lymphocytic leukemia

she goes on and off treatments

bc sometimes shes getting better then it just drops x10

nd uh ya

:(((((

it’s a miracle she’s still alive tbh

so uh she nd al used 2 be a thing

they were really good together nd just shit man

her condition got even worse

nd she had to go to another country to get treated

but she couldn’t tell al that bc :(((( she didn’t want him to know obvs

but she did tell sabrina

nyway otw to the airport she nd her fam got into a mini car accident

and sab ( being the worst at lying )

told al that she died

but she isnt

but it was better that way ig?? bc its been so long now

i say but too much

this got long but yall pls plot w dis cinnamon roll she just wants 2 be luved nd i hope this made sense lmao

[sending-the-message]

My Ex-Girlfriend Isn't Taking The Breakup Well Part 6 by thegeneralg

Chloe arrived promptly at 2 pm today. While she was here right on schedule, it still wasn't fast enough for me. My mind spent the entire night racing, thinking about everything I knew about Mrs. Arlington. I don't think I slept for a moment. Not even a shot of whiskey helped, but it did calm me down a bit. Since it was a Saturday, we knew Mrs. Arlington, if that was even her real name, would be home.

I couldn't believe it. Did she know all this time? Was it a coincidence she moved next to me? Is that why Allison broke in? Not to get at me. but for a crack at her? The last thought sent a shiver through my body. Right as if on cue, the doorbell rang. Not gonna lie, that moment made me jump. I ran to open it and there was Chloe. She walked inside without saying a word, but once the door was shut, she immediately greeted me with a hug. As is often the case, I didn't know how much I needed one until that moment. Sitting down on my couch, we tried to figure out how to approach the situation.

"I'll invite her here," I began. "I want her right where I know where everything is. My man John who I told you about will be here in a few too. Not gonna take a single chance. He'll be ready with some 'assistance' should it be required. In fact another friend of his will be bringing some 'assistance' as well." Chloe nodded in approval.

"Good idea."

"I'll be the one to show her the photo and you will be the one to say how you got it."

"Sounds like a plan." She hesitated a moment before continuing. "What do you think she will do?" I sat there for a moment, I had no idea what to say. The woman had been an ideal neighbor for years, not once had she laid a finger on me. She had been nothing but helpful and kind to me. At this point, she was almost like family to me. Perhaps part of me didn't want to believe anything bad would happen, but after everything that's happened so far, I wasn't about to count anything out.

"I don't know," I eventually whispered. John and his backup, another bouncer named Travis, got there about 45 minutes later. I didn't think it was possible, but Travis was even bigger than John was. But when he saw me, Travis immediately shook my hand.

"John told me what happened. Shit is crazy man." That was the most accurate thing anyone had ever said so far about this whole thing.

Shortly after they arrived, I called Mrs. Arlington to come over. I told her I had something to show her about Allison. As expected, she said she would be right over. When she spoke in her usual friendly, inviting tone, it made my heart sink. I know in my head she was lying to me, but I guess I didn't like the idea of ambushing her like this. But I immediately reminded myself I was doing the right thing and she had been the one keeping secrets.

"Just come on by now if you have nothing going on. The doors open." I made sure to keep my voice innocuous. Mrs. Arlington immediately agreed and within minutes I heard her walk across the driveway and up the steps, and the front door opened. I heard her call out and I told her to come in the living room. She walked into the living room and immediately looked confused.

"Oh, why hello there," she looked around at the people there. "Vince, I thought you had something to show me?" Her blue eyes looked at me uncertainly.

"I do," I said as I handed Mrs. Arlington the photo of her that Chloe had gotten. The original one, not some phone screenshot. There was just something about holding an original photo. She looked at it for a full minute, I think she was in shock. In that instant, you could feel the atmosphere change. It was like Mrs. Arlington was physically diminished.

"Where did you get this?" Was all she could say. Her eyes looked different than I had ever seen them, almost like a mouse's, timid and nervous. I didn't say a word, but I pointed to Chloe. I could see Mrs. Arlington nervously glancing at John and Travis. She knew perfectly well what John did for me in the past.

"You were at Allison's house that night with her father. The bedroom. You both looked pretty keen not to be seen. Which makes sense, because he disappeared not too long after that. So tell us what you know." In that moment, I could feel something silently break within Mrs. Arlington. If you have ever seen something bad happen to someone, you know what I mean. It is like their body physically changes before you.

"My God. I am so sorry I didn't tell you. I swear to you, I had no idea." She muttered before telling us more. "This was so long ago, I swear to you Vince, I had no idea Allison was Jerry's daughter. It all makes so much sense. So, here is what I know. Damn, how could I have not seen the resemblance. " She chastised herself before cleared her throat and getting down to business. "It's true, I was there that night. But not for what you think. As you know by now, back then I was a legal secretary in town. Allison's hometown. Although it is only about four hours away, it might as well be a million miles away. I was fresh out of school and had just landed that job when Jerry Dunbar came to our office. Will Sanders was the best lawyer in town and it was an honor to work for him. I don't blame Jerry for wanting the best."

"What do you mean?" Chloe asked. Her brow furled in suspicion.

"You knew the Dunbar family?" Mrs. Arlington asked her. To which Chloe nodded. "Then you know what I mean when I say things were not right in that family. Especially with the mother. It's why I say it all makes sense now. Jerry Dunbar came to us for legal help. He wanted a divorce from Allison's mother, Clara. But he didn't just want a divorce. No he wanted full custody, and that was just a warm-up. Jerry said Allison's mother was dangerous and he wanted the courts to intervene."

I sat there silently, not sure what to feel. Chloe looked as pale as my kitchen floor, which was bone white. Mrs. Arlington's voice had become more steady as she spoke. "He was terrified of her. Absolutely terrified. Over the years he had seen things, heard things, and when he was really lucky, he experienced it. For example, she would lie about the most routine things. Things no normal person would lie about. Or she would have an absolute fit over stupid petty things. Like a piece of furniture being moved or the color of wallpaper. But she was never violent. At least not to him. That was one of the things that terrified him. She had all this rage built up and very rarely, it would peek its head up. But it would always go right away, leaving him unsure if it had really happened. A Jerry had a friend from work, who had a doctor for a brother and Jerry called him up for his opinion. Well, turns out Clara was a dead ringer for being ill, seriously mentally ill. I forget what it is called, but it wasn't bipolar or depression. No, this was major, as in call the FBI profilers type bad. What's your name honey?" she suddenly asked Chloe.

"Chloe," she replied hesitantly.

"Lovely name," she said with a warm smile. In spite of everything, Mrs. Arlington managed to make Chloe smile as well. "Well Chloe, let me ask you something. Did you always feel that Mrs. Dunbar was always perfect. Like a china doll that never gets blemished? Always has a perfect answer for everything?"

"Yes," she practically whispered.

"I had the same feeling too. Creepy isn't it? Almost makes you wonder if she was human. I didn't know exactly what to call it when I met her, but there was something different about her. Well, what made Jerry call us was that he had been thinking about this for a long time. But what broke the camels back so to speak was Clara's trip to visit her mother. The one that she took when you saw me at their house. Well Jerry was instantly suspicious, because Clara LOATHED her mother. Absolutely hated the woman. Called her every name possible. So when Clara started acting all concerned about her Mother, Jerry knew instantly something was up. Once she was gone, Will had me go with Jerry to the house to look the place over. Said a woman's opinion was crucial. I would be able to look at things not just as an outsider, but as a woman examining another woman's habits. We looked for stuff related to Allison's grandmother, legal papers, letters, anything that would give us a clue to what was going on." Mrs. Arlington then paused, a pained look appeared in her eyes, as if she was bracing herself for something.

"Then we went into their bedroom. Which was where Clara kept her important papers, inside a lockbox in her closet. That's why we went into the bedroom. After some trying, we managed to figure out the combination. For such a clever woman, she was surprisingly unimaginative about codes. It was Allison's birthday."

November 3, 1988. 11.3.88. The number flashed through my mind like an involuntary spasm. I still remembered what I got her last year for her birthday. A new leather jacket. It cost an obscene fortune, but she looked so sexy in it. Light crème colored leather, I can still practically smell the new leather scent. In spite of everything, the memory still managed to make me smile. Not that I would admit that to anyone of course.

"We opened the box and went through the papers inside. Inside was the usual, birth certificate, other identification papers, a few precious mementos, and other ordinary things. We were just about to put it back when Jerry found something. An recent life insurance policy taken out, but not for one of them, but for Allison's Grandmother. Clara had taken it out about 6 months ago and had been steadily spending more time with her mother in the time since. The policy was for 450,000 dollars in the event of her mother's death. Bear in mind, Allison's grandmother was only in her early 60s and was in good health at the time, so it wasn't like she was betting on a sick old woman would die at any moment."

At that moment, I felt sick. My intestines felt like someone was twisting them into balloon animals. It couldn't be possible.

"Confident that this explained a lot, Jerry told me he would get more information and speak to both me and my boss as soon as he had it. He kept in touch with us periodically, but never had any news. Finally, a few months later, Jerry came to see us at the office. Didn't call or anything, he just barged right in. That wasn't like him at all. The man was always a stickler for etiquette. Told us all that he was onto something and was gonna head out of town to follow Clara when she went to visit her mother this time. Allison was staying at a friend's house, so she didn't need to be watched. Told us he would call us as soon as he could. Well that call never happened. Jerry never came back and was reported missing three days later. But that wasn't the worst part. That was when the calls began."

"The calls?" I asked blankly.

"At first they came slowly. To Will Sanders at the office. No one ever spoke, just some heavy breathing. At first, we thought nothing of it. Working in a lawyer's office, you tend to become a bit desensitized to weirdness. But then they began happening at Will's home. Will had seen it all, so he could care less. But then they began happening at my home. At night. When I was alone. At first, it was just more heavy breathing. Don't get me wrong, that was a bit creepy, but I could deal with it. But then someone spoke on the line, just one time. I will never forget that voice. It was a quiet voice, a charming sounding man."

"Don't worry about Jerry, if you know what's good for you. Unless you want us to check up on you . Especially if you go into houses that aren't yours again." I felt Goosebumps pop up on my skin when Mrs. Arlington said this. I had never in my life seen her look so afraid. Just thinking about it seemed to terrify her.

"After that the calls stopped. They never called anyone else in the office but Will and me. To this day, I don't know how they knew I was with Jerry, but they did. Believe you me, I never went anywhere near the Dunbar house again. We told the police what had happened, but they couldn't find anything. I left town not long after that call and did everything to forget the whole thing ever happened. I swear to you Vince, I had no idea Allison was Clara's daughter. I knew the girl's name was Allison, but there are a million Allison's out there. She also looked nothing like her mother. But it all makes sense now, they say if you want to see what a girl will be like when she gets older, look at her mother. This is the last thing I have to say. I have seen plenty of darkness in my life, but no human being ever made me look over my shoulder the way Clara Dunbar did."

We sat there in silence after Mrs. Arlington finished speaking. She stood there, her arms folded against her chest. I wondered how long she had kept this story to herself. Years probably. There were a million questions running through my mind. But somehow, Chloe asked the most important one before I could.

"What happened to Mrs. Dunbar?" Mrs. Arlington took a breath before answering.

"No idea, and I can't say I'm sorry for that. Most I ever heard is that she left town and no one heard from her again."

"Anything else?" I asked Mrs. Arlington blandly.

"No Vince, and I promise you, had I known Allison was Clara's daughter I would have told you immediately."

"Thank you, that will be all Sharon," her face fell instantly at this. But she nodded in response. I had never called her by her first name before. Funny, it was sort of like when a parent calls a child by their full name. That's when you know you are in deep shit. Without saying a word, she walked out of my living room. The door shut quietly behind her. I don't think she will be invited here any time soon. I thanked John and his friend for their backup, and they left shortly after. Chloe and I sat there for some time before she spoke.

"Do you believe it?" she asked me. I nodded my head. I actually did believe her, and I didn't need to ask Chloe if she felt the same. I could see it on her face that Mrs. Arlington had accurately described what Chloe had experienced when the Dunbar's lived next to her. We had some answers now, but that just created about a thousand new questions we had yet to answer. Chloe bid me farewell and told me she would keep an eye out and to call me if I needed anything and I told her to do the same. Now it was just me and my thoughts. One question dominated all the others. Odds were good Allison's father was dead. But what happened to her mother?

Part 1 https://redd.it/6dq4dc

Part 2 https://redd.it/6f9nmj

Part 3 https://redd.it/6h3jhu

Part 4 https://redd.it/6ilf6l

Part 5 https://redd.it/6s1vir

[adobe-outdesign]

[Sister Location Fanfic] Dear Father

(AO3 version can be read here.)

Dear Aunt Holway,

I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to make it over for Christmas. I’ve been ill lately, but I’ll make sure to meet up sometime soon. Tell Chris I said hello.

Sincerely,

Michael

Part of it is a lie, but somehow it’s not the part about him being sick.

Dear Father,

He stops, pen in hand. He just wrote a letter, didn’t he? This shouldn’t be hard.

His pen moves to the next line, but no words come. How does one talk about this? “I died when I rescued her, but I’m still here. I don’t know what to do.“ The thought of putting it on paper scares him, as if writing it down would make it official.  “I’m terrified. Please, I need your help.“ Would his father even care? “I succeeded. You’re finally proud of me now, right?“

Some sort of black liquid drips from his face and stains the paper. He pushes it aside and promises himself that he’ll get to it tomorrow, but he knows that’s another lie.

“What do you mean, you’re the baby’s father? Are you telling me I had my house burned down for nothing?!“

Michael puts down the remote, letting himself be bathed in the soft light of the television. He wishes more than anything that he could enjoy his usual bag of popcorn right now, and the thought strikes him with an odd pang of sorrow. 

You had your insides ripped out 13 episodes ago. The thought always pops into his head when watching anymore, a silent count of how long it had been since the incident. Had he died like he should have, the story would have stopped with Vlad’s house burning. He wouldn’t have been able to watch Clara move out, or watch the new character claiming to be the baby’s father make a surprise appearance. What a shame it would be, to have a story like this be cut off before the ending.

He would be smiling, if there were enough muscles in his mouth to do so. At least there was one benefit to being unable to die.

He goes into the bathroom to get a towel and finds himself staring at his reflection.

He hadn’t looked in the mirror since he woke up - there was simply no desire to. He already knew that his face was an unrecognizable mess, and he had no need to make himself presentable, whatever that would mean in his current state. But suddenly he finds himself almost entranced by it despite his fear, the same way someone would struggle to look away from a horrible car crash on the side of the road.

The Thing in the mirror is a human corpse. The skin is almost bruised, with an unhealthy bluish purple tint in areas that segue into a blackish or peachish color in others. It has no hair, no teeth, nothing inside of it at all, and he finds himself lifting a hand to the mirror to make sure the reflection does the same. The Thing’s eyes are missing, and there are instead two gaping holes where they should be, like someone had shot two bullet holes into his... skull? Did he still have a skull?

There are two lights flickering at the back of the holes where The Thing’s eyes should have been, and Michael finds himself staring into them. They’re bright, impossibly bright, and they pulsate ever so slightly, as if matching a heartbeat that wasn’t there. He wonders if he’s looking into his own soul, and a cold sense of terror settles over him. One day he might rot away completely, and those impossibly bright dots will be all that’s left...

All the mirrors are covered with towels the next day.

Dear Father,

The pen once again stops short.

Michael leans back into the chair, twining the pen between his fingers. It’s been weeks since the robots at Circus Baby’s Entertainment and Rentals disappeared under mysterious circumstances. It had even made the local papers, seeing as there was nothing else for this small town to report on. Surely his father would’ve known about his success by now. Why hadn’t he called him?

Perhaps William had figured everything out already, or least the parts he cared about. She was free; that was what was important. The rest was...

Inconsequential.

Are you proud of me?

He crumples up the paper and throws it into the wastebasket.

There is a knock at the door.

He stands in the kitchen as if frozen. It’s nightfall outside - dark, but was it dark enough to conceal him? If it wasn’t, and someone found out... Then what? Would they call the police? Try to attack him? Run away, face distorted in terror at the corpse in front of the-

There’s another knock.

“Coming.” He grabs a pair of sunglasses from the table, hoping they would be enough to hide where his eyes should be. The lights in the living room are turned off, leaving only a faint glow from the kitchen, and the lock is turned slower than usual 

“Uh, hey there.“ The other individual is a man, older than him and only made to look even older by the lines around his face. He fidgets, waiting for a response, but all he gets is silence. “I just... Well, I heard some... Well-“

“Rumors?“ He had heard them too, circling through people’s gossip under hushed breath. Did you hear about Michael? People say his skin was all messed up, and he wasn’t walking properly. Do you think he’s contracted leprosy or something?...

“Yeah, that.“ The other man rubs his head. Michael can see him squinting through the dark, and he takes a few more steps back. “I just wanted to check up on you. People said there was something wrong with your skin?“

“Yes, I had a skin infection and was... ill for a while. I’m already getting over it.“ Once again, it isn’t a lie.

“Oh, I see. Good.“ The man shifts his weight awkwardly. “Well, glad to hear you’re doing better. H- Hey, that skin problem of yours, it isn’t... infectious, is it?“

Something that might have once been a smile spreads across his face as he realizes why the man was here. “No, I don’t believe it’s anything you’ll need to worry about.“

“Oh! Okay. Great.“ He tries to play it off, but the relief in the man’s voice is a evident. “That’s good to hear.”

Another awkward pause, followed by a hand clap. “Well! I should, uh, probably take off. Take care of yourself, okay Michael?“

“Of course.“ The door is locked behind the man, just in case.

Dear Father,

Something is wrong with me. I’ve tried to fix it, but I can’t.

He remembers the day clearly, as much as he tries not to. He had been lying on the sidewalk at first, and it had taken him a minute to get his bearings.

Then he had pulled himself to his feet, walked home, and plunged a knife into his chest.

He wasn’t trying to die, or at least that’s what he still tells himself. He was already dead, or rather, supposed to be dead - the discolored, rotting state of his skin was proof enough of that. Something had gone wrong and needed to be corrected, and he had repeated that to himself over and over even as his hands shook so violently it was hard to keep the knife straight.

There was a faint twinge of pain as the knife went in, and he griped the table for support, wondering how long he’d have until he blacked out. A circle of dark maroon spread out from the tip and he placed his hand over the spot, surprised to find that the area was wet. Why am I... bleeding? It didn’t make sense - he didn’t have veins any more. He wasn’t even positive he still had a heart.

He had gripped the knife handle and pulled it out, remembering something his father had said about how leaving the knife in slows blood loss. The wound no longer hurt, and he had slid his fingers into the remaining hole, trying to determine where the blood came from. But there was nothing, just a layer of skin that was somehow able to stay supported on its own. He couldn’t die.

I still saved her. That’s all that matters to you, right?

“You won’t die.”

He can hear hear the noise of the air conditioner turning on, and he wonders why he’s bothering to pay for it when he has no sense of feeling left.

“You won’t die.”

He’s not sure where he heard it. It was her voice, but it wasn’t something she had said before it happened. If she had, he might have reconsidered.

He stares at the far wall, feeling a dull ache in his torso. It’s not true pain, but something fainter, almost like his body could remember what it felt like. He uses it as an excuse to continue lying on the bed, missing the ability to sleep.

“You won’t die.”

He doesn’t regret it, really. He had promised him that he would free her, and he did. If everything had ended there, it wouldn’t have been a long life, and not necessarily a happy one, but at least his father would be pleased. He wouldn’t have had any regrets.

He lies there and remembers forcing himself to stay in place as the Scooper’s alarm rang through the building. He remembers what it felt like. He remembers taking the keys off his belt and unlocking the backstage door, revealing a dirty yellow rabbit suit. He remembers the tiny bit of pride in his father’s voice as he put his hand on him, and he remembers his words. “We’ll be able to save them all.“

He’s lying again.

Michael leans back in the chair and perches the pen on the back of his hands. Why hasn’t he called him yet?

Surely he was just... busy. He wouldn’t ignore him after such an important accomplishment.

He never ignored her. Michael could still remember the look on his face when he had brought the screaming toddler home, announcing to Michael that this was his new sibling.He hadn’t questioned it - he had learned over the years that no matter how questionable the action was, his father always had a perfectly justifiable reason for his actions. He had loved her, after all.

His love was the only reason Michael was sent back for her. If someone who he didn’t love as much got into an “accident”-

He sets his hands where his eyes should have been, the closest thing he can get to closing them, feeling a cold sense of dread. His father was never wrong. If he felt that his accomplishment wasn’t enough...

Then he’d simply have to do something else for him. Something even more important.

He picks back up the pen and begins to write.

Father,

It’s me, Michael.

[suki-schiffer]

Why does season 10 suck?

Within my small group of whovians we all agreed that this season of Doctor Who has definitely seen a decline in quality to the point some of us felt like we were going to stop watching it. Of course none of us did, just hoping that there was another reason we were mourning the show, maybe we were mourning Clara (my friend L hated her though so...), maybe we didn’t like Bill and Nardole (but actually I’ve been better able to relate to Bill than any other companion, I like her, she points out and question the same things I do, like how the acronym TARDIS wouldn’t work in other languages and while I first thought Nardole was annoying he does serve as a nice comic relief), maybe the so called mistakes and plot holes I have issue with will all be corrected in future episodes, maybe all my questions will be answered. And so I waited and waited and continued to watch and one or two questions were answered and then I realized that in two days season 10 is over. The writers literally have only one episode left to save this season for my friends and I. What bugs me the most though is that I haven’t heard anyone complaining about this, in fact people are singing praises and I’m sitting here wondering if people are blind and/or why people are putting up with this. Just in case you are unaware of the show’s horrible story line this season, or if you are aware and want to compare notes I have made a short list of some of the mistakes and plot holes thus far. (Spoilers)

Episode 1 Pilot: so the Doctor is earth bound, has been guarding the vault at St. Luke’s for about 70 years and yet he doesn’t notice a space ship land on campus and leak fuel. He’s living in the TARDIS and apparently avoiding some unknown enemies, he should have some sort of scanners warning him of unusual occurrences and aliens approaching etc. And he’s probably bored so it’s not like he’s going to let these aliens land and take off without investigating, even if they are friendly, because he’s bored and curious. Also we never found out why Heather had a star in her eye, surly that couldn’t be natural.

Episode 2 Smile: I found this episode very nonsensical. The robots are smart enough to program themselves to kill off the humans to prevent dissatisfaction but they can’t/aren’t smart enough to kill someone who walks outside the city even though they can go and have been shown outside the city. Also they are dumb enough to need a badge to tell them if humans are happy or not (originally if oxygen, water, food was optimal) this is supposed to be hundreds of years in the future, robots today can assess mood through posture and facial expression. For some reason everyone tries to trick the badges into thinking they are happy by smiling so that the Vardy don’t kill them yet no one thinks of taking the badges off. When the Vardy kill they manage to destroy everything but the bones and the locket, including those suits that seemed to have metal components and I refuse to believe that only one person was wearing jewelry, therefore where is all the jewelry/metal? This isn’t the only planet humans have colonized, wouldn’t other colonies be using similar technology, shouldn’t they be warned. And the fix for the episode seemed ridiculous, turn them off and on, no one else thought to try resetting them? It took the Doctor 45 minutes to figure this out?

Episode 3 Thin Ice: my favourite episode so far, pretty well written but for the fact the Doctor says he’s been to the Frost Fair before and Lord Sutcliffe says the monster (and we never do find out what it is, why it’s on earth and where it goes) has been chained in the Thames and the secret passed down in his family “forever”. This means the Doctor obviously should have known something was amiss and already solved the problem.

Episode 4 Knock Knock: another ridiculous episode. What were the bugs? Why did they save the mother but kill/eat/destroy everyone else? Why did they need six people every 20 years? The landlord was old, it was unlikely he would like another 20 years, what did he plan to do then? Didn’t anyone notice these people going missing? How was it the Doctor could save all of Bill’s friends/roommates but not the other people? Why did Bill suddenly need to move out of her foster mother’s house? It wasn’t like getting to the university was difficult if she was working there everyday. When Eliza was ill wouldn’t her son have been sent away? After her “death” wouldn’t his father, a relative, or even an orphanage take him by request of the doctors who presumably announced Eliza dead, or the servants a house that big probably had? Like who was paying taxes if the landlord was a child at the time and his mother had turned to wood? I’m going to stop ranting about this one here.

Episode 5 Oxygen: this episode was okay. I liked the portrayal of the dangers of capitalism and the racism reversal (Bill being called racist). So I get that the people had to buy oxygen but they were all talking about running out, wasn’t there a way to buy more? They were obviously going to be working there for awhile so there had to have been a way. Killing the workers off seems really harsh, wouldn’t it just be better to fire them and take them back to earth/wherever they came from? The fact that the Doctor didn’t figure out that Bill’s suit wouldn’t kill her due to low battery until after he was blind really bugged me. He made a major sacrifice for her when he didn’t have to, and maybe he was trying to save her from pain but in the end her suit got stuck again and so the “inevitable” still happened. Also the lying, I sort of get why he lied to Bill/the crew to make them feel better, but why have Nardole “fix” his vision only to tell him a few minutes later that he really is blind? Again he mentions that his enemies can’t know he’s blind/weak but he shares this with Missy.

Episode 6 Extremis: ah yes, the horrible monk trilogy that no one asked for. First of all this breaks standard Doctor Who format, when have we ever had a three part episode in the middle of the season? The horrid sonic sunglasses are back and somehow the Doctor’s managed to hook them to his occipital lobe so that he can see outlines, read emails, and view statistics about the living thing(s) in front of him, but he can’t see patterns, colours, textures, etc. For some reason in this alternate universe the TARDIS translation matrix doesn’t work as it doesn’t translate the pope for Bill. And that’s a strange device that’s never been used, seen, or eluded to before, very convenient the Doctor decides to make a potentially fatal trade to read the paper version of the text before figuring out it’s already on the computer right in front of him and he can listen to it instead. Oh and the fact that his sight takes awhile to load is very useful too. So Missy being in a vault and how Nardole joined the Doctor is explained in part. Why did these people want Missy dead and how did they capture her? How did they convince the Doctor to come to their planet to be the executioner? When did he have time to fiddle with the device? What exactly was so scary in the records that caused the others to run away and how/why did they not check the records and know this before they brought the Doctor in? How did Nardole get from Darillium to this planet? 

Episode 7 The Pyramid at the End of the World: Out of all the disasters throughout history why did the monks choose this one? They seem generally surprised that the Doctor manages to stop them/turn back the clock, but claimed to have studied him in the simulation world and won against him many times. Where on earth is UNIT? Why do the monks need consent that comes from love? Why could they not just create a link with anyone who agreed to meet their demands if they saved the world? And why did it have to be a person with power? Later on it seemed like any human would have made a successful link. Why a pyramid? Since when can’t the sonic screwdriver not open doors/locks? It’s never just told him the code/showed him what the key looks like, it opens things, so long as they aren’t made of wood and that door definitely wasn’t wood. Why couldn’t the Doctor tell Bill that he would regenerate to prevent her from making the deal? How did these monks fix his vision? 

Episode 8 The Lie of the Land: how was the Doctor “captured”? Why were some people able to overcome the brainwashing? What exactly was the monks’ plans? The had earth and the citizens of it enslaved for over six months yet didn’t seem to be doing anything, not taking resources, not using the humans as slaves for labour power, not preparing for battle of any kind. In the last episode they said that they had taken on the forms they had to essentially relax the people even though they looked like corpses (all humans looked like corpses to them) we never do see their true forms. Why are there so few of them? How did the Doctor manage to convert an entire prison ship to his side without alerting the monks who clearly could get on board and were checking on him? Bill didn’t know the Doctor could regenerate, why did he pretend, how did he manage to pretend? Why hadn’t he acted sooner? Why did he need Bill and need to test her to the extent that he did? Seriously? The answer was love? Love for a woman Bill never knew? And of course everyone forgot everything afterwards, why wouldn’t they?

Episode 9 Empress of Mars: Why didn’t Friday wake his queen up earlier? Why wait months for the humans to discover the “tomb” and do it? Why couldn’t Friday have convinced her to make peace with the humans before she killed so many of them? There’s a fair number of military personnel on Mars, this is 1881, I’m pretty sure someone will notice they’ve gone missing. Isn’t this a bit of a paradox? The Doctor essentially sends himself to Mars because he sees the message “God save the Queen” at NASA then goes to save the humans and the Ice Warriors so that they can create that same message. If he wasn’t there there would be no message, but without the message he wouldn’t be there. Finally the thing that bugged me most about this episode: Since when does the TARDIS lock her doors and leave on her own and then refuse to return for her Time Lord?

Episode 10 The Eaters of Light: actually liked this one probably because of the scenery and mysticism involved. Major critique though is how a small group was able to hold off the creatures for centuries. While it might appear as if they broke the portal because too many went through at once the fact that you can still hear the music is an indication that it’s still functional to some degree. 

Episode 11 World Enough and Time: I was really mad at myself for forgetting about how time and gravity interact however I found the episode very predictable. I mean the way the Razor first scurried from Bill? Totally something John Simm’s Master would do. If the bottom of the space ship is experiencing time much faster than the top and the city is dying doesn’t that mean all the parts are wearing out and will eventually stop powering the top of the ship? Are you telling me all those people originally came from just 20 humans? No wonder they are dying with that little genetic variability. How did the cybermen know to come for Bill (yes they have cameras but Missy, the Doctor and even Nardole look human, how were they able to figure out it was her)? Why was someone sending them up to take the rest of the humans (not just Bill but the other 20+ crew members)? Can they only convert humans, is that why they didn’t try to take anyone else? Why doesn’t Bill’s heart work outside the hospital but the other incomplete cybermen were able to leave to fetch her? Why did the cybermen freak out when she opened the window? Why didn’t more people attempt to go upstairs? I have more questions about this episode but since it is a two parter it is likely some, if not most, will be answered on Saturday.

So there is obviously a writing problem this season and yet very few people seem to be complaining. Personally I think Moffat is trying to take the show down with him, that perhaps he wanted a raise or more creative freedom BBC said no, so now he’s trying to set it up to fail so that he can look back and say “see, you should have just given me what I wanted, I told you guys you wouldn’t be able to survive without me”. My friend C gives Moffat the benefit of the doubt, compares him to a minimum wage worker who’s handed in his two-week notice, he’s run out of ideas and there’s no need to work hard to make the show amazing because so long as he does the work he’s getting paid and this will be his last season whether or not he does well. My other friend, V, is actually blaming the new head writer, Chris Chibnall. She says he might be asking they set the story up for him in some way and the current writers are struggling to do so. Or on a more minor level since Bill is the only character who seems to be staying she could be Chibnall’s character and the current writers are having trouble setting her up to be the character Chibnall wants while fitting her in their stories and having her interact with their characters. 

Okay this has taken much too long to write but it is done. I don’t have much hope for season ten as I find it impossible for the writers to address all these questions and plot holes in a single episode but maybe I’ll be surprised. If it does go down in flames hopefully season eleven will be better. I wrote this solely because I couldn’t find anything on the net expressing similar opinions about this season that I had and I sort of wanted confirmation that my small friend group and I weren’t the only ones disappointed so hopefully someone else who felt the same way has discovered this post. 

Anyway goodnight/day/whatever (it’s now 4am here, oops) and thank you for reading.

[artificialqueens]

First Lady (Pearlet) - Ashley

AN: Based on the love story of Eleanor Roosevelt and her dearest Hitch.First Lady Pearl falls in love with budding journalist Violet, and despite their separation, they keep their romance alive through letters. Depressing. Leave me some feedback please xo - Ashley

The year was 1932 and America was dying, but dying was not the same as dead. There was still hope. Hope in the form of a president who offered relief, reform and recovery. Hope for a place where once again the streets were made of gold – not of a place where people sold apples on the street and lived in squalor. But for Violet Chachki, the worst time had gone. She had grown through years of abuse, to rise above and become the top female reporters in the country. She had fallen in love, she had felt the pain of abandonment but again this passed, she learned defiance. When the unsinkable sunk, Violet was there with her notes. When the biggest stars disappeared, Violet was putting the pieces together. This perseverance is what landed her a job tailing the soon to be First Lady of the U.S.A. Pearl Liaison.

What shocked Violet the most was how beautiful she was in person. She stuck out like a sore thumb as Violet walked onto the train carriage. Her skin was smooth and soft, her eyes held years of wisdom that Violet couldn’t begin to comprehend, her half smile shone with guilt-ridden innocence. She bore the face of a woman who had struggled, but like Violet, a woman who had also conquered. A rainbow of light had met a dastardly storm, and the result was the woman sat before her – a pearl shining in a land of half-light. Violet had loved women before, she had loved Ella, but she hadn’t ever felt such a strange and impulsive hunger to wrap her arms around someone’s body.

“Hello, I’m Violet, I’m here to accompany you on your journey, miss. I’m covering you for the articles on your husband’s campaign.”

“Oh, nice to meet you. Do sit down, I’m awfully bored here by myself. It’ll be so nice to have another woman around, especially one who is more inclined towards adventure over housework.”

“Adventuring is a large part of my life,” Violet smiled, “without packing a bag and hopping on a train I would not have been here in New York today.”

“Of course. I do admire the life of a female writer, being able to put pen to paper and overcome social isolation is a great honour in my eyes.” Pearl looked at Violet, her eyes were an icy blue that accentuated her pale skin and blonde locks. Violet felt loved and intimidated at the same time. But her nerves were steadily being calmed by the lady’s lassiez-faire demeanour.

“You should try it sometime, miss.” Violet replied, feeling pride in her work.

“I might,” Pearl responded, “And no more of this ‘miss’, I am simply Pearl, my dear.”

But Violet could see she was anything but simple.

“Well, Pearl, we have a long journey ahead of us. Do you have any stories of the weekend?”

“I’m glad you asked, Violet, because a story is not a story unless it is told.”

Hours passed of two girls sat on a train, beaming at every word the other said. Laughing at tales of sneaking out to see the flappers and sewing balls for different occasions. Two lives that we’re conceived and raised in such antithesis were laughing and smiling together, their hands almost touching, a spark flicking from each of their fingers. This small journey was the start of a love. A love that would burn brighter than all the other loves in the whole planet.

It was safe to say that in the month leading up to U.S inauguration, Violet Chachki had become the closest friend of Pearl Liaison. What had started as shadowing for political news had become trips to Albany and D.C, train rides drinking champagne and discussing equality, nights of sneaking away and dressing up, hitting the Cotton Club and listening to the devil’s music. It had become roast dinners together every Sunday, trips to the theatre and the opera. The time Pearl spent with her husband was now unaccountably overshadowed by the nights she sat in Violet’s apartment. Pearl spent almost every day in Violet’s company and had not yet found one complaint.

There they were sat like usual, watching a movie starring Clara Bow, except focusing more on each other than the movie, something that often happened, when the reminder hit Violet straight in the face.

“I have something for you,” Violet gleamed, “Before she passed my cousin gave it to me, and I thought you should have it, to bring you luck at Fredrick’s inauguration.”

There she went across the room and retrieved the ring. It was a deep sapphire shade like the sea on a winters night. Pearl slipped it on her hands and quickly embraced the woman she had grew so fond of. She looked at the dark beauty mark that sat above Violet’s rouged lips and imagined what it would be like to kiss it. Then Violet kissed her. Pearl ran her hands through Violet’s hair. This is what she wanted. She held her companion tenderly and softly, not wanting to hurt any part of her beautiful, fragile body. She wondered if this is what it would be like every day, if she wasn’t married to the next American President but instead she lived a tranquil life with Violet. She pictured them stuffed away in a chalet somewhere, there only commitments being each other, they would spend their evenings writing and holding each other.

Violet pulled away and ran her hand along Pearl’s face: “Sunday you will become the First Lady. People will depend on you.”

“Yes,” Pearl nodded, “but I cannot do it without you at my side. Come with me. Give me my first interview and write my life story for the world to hear. Give me the love I cannot receive from my husband. Give me you.”

Violet knew it was wrong, but she didn’t care one bit.

“Yes,” she grinned touching Pearl’s ring,

“Yes.” Pearl repeated, and kissed Violet again. Except this time there was heat, there was passion, there was energy. They were two tidal waves crashing against one another with great speed and magnitude. They were opposite ends of a magnet, linked together and repelled by the rest of society. They were sides of a children’s see-saw, lying at complete different levels yet moving by one powerful and collected motion. They were hungry for each other, lust seeping through every pore. Their stars were crossed like no stars had ever crossed before.

***

The nights after Fredrick’s inauguration were long. Each day was filled with radio shows and chats to the public, saving lives of those in need Pearl was fulfilled. But at night she longed for Violet. Violet who was living in New York whilst Pearl was in DC. Her marriage was more of a lie than before. Her husband was seeing many other women and they barely had time to speak never mind show love. Her study was full of photographs of Violet, which she kissed every morning and every night.

Separation from Pearl was causing Violet great anxiety and she called her almost every day. Repressed memories of childhood abandonment flooded back to her as she cried herself to sleep each night. She couldn’t tell anyone about their love because they wouldn’t understand it, the people she spoke to had no idea that despite her body being in New York, her heart was where it belonged in D.C, with Pearl. It was always Pearl.

Each day Pearl wrote Violet letters, at times 15 pages long, she told her how she’d never enjoyed being with anyone the way she did with her. She wrote about the tears that welled in her eyes when she thought of Violet alone and afraid. She wrote about how sorry she was and how much it broke her heart that she sometimes couldn’t finish their phone calls with a “je t’adore” because her family were around. She wrote till her hand ached, looking at her sapphire ring as the words flew straight from her heart onto the page.

***

The days turned into months and the months turned into years. Meeting were not frequent but they were still happy. But as the months turned into years the women both found it harder to be apart, and started to meet up more and more. The papers started to talk and odd glances were thrown at the first lady. She wrote to her true love and told her that they must be careful and keep their time together out of the papers. Violet found working under the Liaison branch harder than ever, she was under constant scrutiny and she barely saw Pearl anyway.  As America tried to climb out of its depression and avoid war, Pearl’s job to her nation made her busier and busier, there were days where she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

***

Then President Liaison was re-elected.

Violet wanted more time together and Pearl could not give it. Violet grew green and angry, thinking Pearl’s distancing was personal. She found herself becoming ill and had to leave work at the campaign. Everyday where she didn’t work around Pearl was like a needle to the heart, yet it was better than being close to Pearl but knowing it was never close enough. Pearl was the candy on the shelf that she just couldn’t reach, so she closed the store and resigned.

They grew apart the way busy people did, but still Pearl wore her sapphire ring and still Violet saw Pearl’s face as she listened to the deep jazz of the 1920s. They still shared letters near the end, apologies for hurting each other, birthday notes that still showed the love between the two. But once a love had fizzled, the ends had to be forgotten and only the pleasant memories must remain.

Pearl spent her years creating equality for women in America, helping the nation survive through a costly war and sticking by her husband’s side. Violet put her passion into writing, getting sicker every day. Although they grew old apart, they were always in each other’s souls, imprints that would never be washed away.

Different partners came and went but that did not stop the occasional letters that still flew between Pearl and Violet, up until 1962 when Pearl passed. After Pearl’s death, Violet moved into a cottage on the Liaison estate, where she too lived her last years, knowing that in spirit, Pearl was right next to her. Violet did not attend Pearl’s funeral because their love was between them only, a private matter that now only she knew the intensity of. With her love gone, Violet was only half a woman at best, with no opposite magnet to keep her grounded. She died only 5 years later.

Their story may have been miserable of paper, but the two of them knew that it was anything but. It was a passion so strong it made blood boil. It was love, plain and simple. It was illicit, it was the definition to their lives.

***

In May 1978, Katya was nervous. Tasked on creating a short biography on Pearl Liaison, she was going to be the first person to read letters from one of Liaison’s closest friends – hoping to find some great details on her life, she prayed that the 18 boxes that had been stored under Violet Chachki’s will for 10 years, were not just boring anecdotes but raw information. Of course, she was given much more than raw information, she was given a story of love. Love through letters of 30 years. Love through separation. Love through time. Love through inequality and gender. Love that she knew she needed to spread to the world. So that is exactly what she did, keeping alive the hearts and souls of Violet and Pearl for anyone in the world to experience. 

[useyourrwords]

Book Review // All Out – History Has Never Been as Straight As You Think

Details Title: All Out: The No-Longer-Secret Stories of Queer Teens Throughout The Ages Edited By: Saundra Mitchell Authors: Saundra Mitchell, Anna-Marie McLemore, Natalie C. Parker, Nilah Magruder, Mackenzi Lee, Robin Talley, Malinda Lo, Dahlia Adler, Kate Scelsa, Elliot Wake, Scott Tracey, Tess Sharpe, Alex Sanchez, Kody Keplinger, Sara Farizan, Tessa Gratton, Shaun David Hutchinson, Tehlor Kay Mejia Publisher: Harlequin Teen Age: YA Genre: Anthology, Historical, Fantasy Released: February 27, 2018 Trigger Warnings: I don’t have any because I read this so long ago before I decided I needed to start making an actual effort at TWs. Likely there was homophobia, transphobia (I think in Every Shade of Red??? Maybe???) Representation*: OMG, so much!! I will include rep for each story as I go! But safe to say this is heavy gay, I love it.

Synopsis**: Take a journey through time and genres and discover a past where queer figures live, love and shape the world around them. Seventeen of the best young adult authors across the queer spectrum have come together to create a collection of beautifully written diverse historical fiction for teens. From a retelling of Little Red Riding Hood set in war-torn 1870s Mexico featuring a transgender soldier, to two girls falling in love while mourning the death of Kurt Cobain, forbidden love in a sixteenth-century Spanish convent or an asexual girl discovering her identity amid the 1970s roller-disco scene, All Out tells a diverse range of stories across cultures, time periods and identities, shedding light on an area of history often ignored or forgotten. 

This anthology is goddamn important.

If we must lie to the world to be true to our hearts, then we would.

All Out is an anthology written by LGBTQIAP+ authors for LGBTQIAP+ readers.

Historical fiction has long been monopolized by straight people. Often this is explained away as being historically accurate as if we queers haven’t always existed.

Sorry to burst your bubble but yes, we have always existed y’all just like to call us ‘very close friends’ or erase people’s bisexuality because they were in a m/f romance at some point.

Now the gays are staking their claim on their own history and I could not be more excited.

We had done this: Robin’s lost boys and lost girls, the children society had thrown away. We’d woven together a family of orphans and outcasts and exiles. Not one of us shared blood. Not one of us would balk at spilling our own blood for a brother or sister.

This anthology was so damn enjoyable that I didn’t want to put it down.

Honestly, I just couldn’t wait for Elliot Wake’s story because I am trash for his writing but there were so many great stories in here that I didn’t even mind the wait!

Stories that are so good they are worth buying this whole anthology for just them alone are;

 Roja by Anna-Marie McLemore  Burnt Ember by Mackenzie Lee  Molly’s Lips by Dahlia Adler  The Coven by Kate Scelsa  Every Shade of Red by Elliot Wake  Willows by Scott Tracey  Three Witches by Tessa Gratton  Healing Rosa by Tehlor Kay Mejia

     That was how Léon and I left them, both of us showing hearts so fierce these men considered them knives. We left them with the salt-sting memory of us, a brazen girl, and a boy with a heart so fearless wolves were his guardian saints.

││Roja│Anna-Marie McLemore│El Bajio, México, 1870│★★★★★│f/m, trans love interest, Latinx MC│

Roja follows a burja as she works to free her love from imprisonment.

This story was so beautiful and every time I read one of Anna-Marie McLemore’s stories in an anthology I am reminded that I need to read one of her books.

I love magical realism and more than that, I love playing with the idea of cursed families and anger; how to use it and not let it destroy you.

This story starts the whole book out strong.

     │The Sweet Trade│Natalie C. Parker│Virginia Colony, 1717│3.5★‘s│w/w│

The Sweet Trade follows Clara and Pearl as the both escape their husband/husband-to-be in search of adventure as pirates.

This was really cute and had me laughing within the first sentence, unfortunately, that was all it was for me and I wanted something deeper.

     │And They Don’t Kiss At The End│Nilah Magruder│Maryland, 1976│3.5★’s│m/f, ace & black MC, Filipino love interest│

In the time of disco and rollerblades, Dee starts her journey of self-discovery when she questions her sexuality.

This was cute, and Dee’s inner monologue as she’s trying to work out her thoughts and feelings was really accurate, I thought.

Having had a similar conversation with myself before realizing that no, I’m not quite ace but maybe in the grey-ace area, I found this story authentic but really short. I guess I just wanted more.

     “I am the boy most accomplished at not becoming distracted by the first naked woman we draw. Which is something, I suppose.”

││Burnt Ember│Mackenzie Lee│Netherlands, Amsterdam, 1638│★★★★│m/m│

Burnt Ember shares the story of a budding painter who has no difficulties painting nude subjects until one of the subjects is his crush, an ex-classmate.

I love Mackenzie Lee’s sense of humour so much!

Just the awkward and cringey conversations a young person can have with their crush when their flustered and overwhelmed.

This was hella cute!

     │The Dresser & The Chambermaid│Robin Talley│Kensington Palace, September 1726│★★★ │w/w│

Chambermaid Susannah is very frustrated with the new Dresser Mary who seems to have no idea what her job does and doesn’t include. This story follows these two girls as they learn from each other how to do regal hair and how to fall in love.

This was cute but boring. It felt like it went far longer than the story needed.

I don’t know, this just didn’t do it for me.

     │New Year│Malinda Lo│San Francisco-January 21, 1955│★★★│No Romance, Chinese-American sapphic MC, drag/trans side character│

Lily is super intrigued by the queer scene of San Francisco, especially a certain someone who catches her eye at her friend’s family restaurant.

Uhhhhh, I kinda can’t really tell you much about this one because it was a little forgettable for me.

I remember it feeling disjointed and that I couldn’t get into it and not much else.

     “He has a daughter now,” she’d said so many times, tracing glossy magazine photos of Frances Bean with her finger and a wistful sigh that told me she would’ve given anything to trade place with the blond infant. “He’ll fix himself for her. Watch.” I watched. It broke my fucking heart.

││Molly’s Lips│Dahlia Adler│Seattle— April 10, 1994│★★★★★│w/w│

Molly’s Lips follows Annabelle as she and her best friend Molly celebrate Kurt Cobain’s life and mourn his death and shows us how, in grief, we can remember the important things in life, like showing our love for one another.

THIS WAS SO CUTE I CAN’T DEAL! 

I loved it, it was heart wrenching and beautiful and their friendship was so pure and god this was wonderful.

     I had been planning on trying to kiss Vivie for a month at this point. The idea occurred to me one day and then I just decided that I would do it. I was simply taking my time. I watched the other women in the cafe with jealousy—the girls who held hands and wore pants and didn’t seem to care what anyone thought. I wanted to say to Vivie “We are like them,” but what we had felt like a magic spell that I was afraid to break.

││The Coven│Kate Scelsa│Paris, 1924│★★★★★│w/w, Neurodiversity│

The Coven follows Dean as her best friend Vivie seeks to become the next great writer and Dean seeks to clear her brain of the fog and maybe get a kiss from Vivie too.

I really liked this, I identified with Dean when it came to brain fog as someone who has battled mental illness and FMS which makes brain fog a regular visitor.

I love the whole witchy lesbian vibes this story was giving.

     Forty lashes, but forty-five marks on that boy’s back—five of which were mine. As I watched him writhe I could still feel his taut muscles moving against my skin, smell the salt and sea musk of his sweat. My father had said, “If it happens again, I will kill him.” Then you may as well kill me, too, I’d screamed with my hands, stabbing my finger at my own heart.

││Every Shade of Red│Elliot Wake│England, Late Fourteenth Century│★★★★★│m/m, deaf MC, trans love interest, queer POC cast (w/w, ace)│

Every Shade of Red is the diverse af retelling of Robin Hood we all deserve.

No seriously. I loved it. I loved it so much I didn’t want it to end and certainly not like that.

This story broke my heart but was so gentle with it up until the drop. It was just so damn beautiful.

I loved every single thing about it, from Trans Robin, deaf Will and a band of queer misfits making a family and home from themselves because they ones they were born into refuse to accept them for who they are.

Elliot Wake, you are cruel but also can you write a whole book dedicated to this story??? Seriously, I need more of it NOW!

     Sebastian said nothing. Some thought the blacksmith’s boy simple, but it was just that he chose his words with a sharp-eyed precision. Each was a precious gift he was loath to give away. In some ways, it reminded Benjamin of Mariot, of the way she would wrap up her thoughts and tuck her words into her pockets, only sharing what she could bear to part with.

││ Willows│Scott Tracey│Southwyck Bay, Massachusetts, 1732│★★★★│m/m, enby/gender fluid MC??│

Willows follows Benjamin who can remember his past selves in a town where anyone with unnatural abilities is thrown off a cliff.

Guys this one is so fucking weird and yet??? I really liked it.

Don’t get me wrong, I had no idea what was happening or how the magical?? element in this story worked for 90% of the time and yet I didn’t care because I was pulled in straight away and wanted to understand.

Curiosity will be the death of me, honestly.

     │The Girl With The Blue Lantern│Tess Sharpe│Northern California, 1849│3.5★‘s│w/w│

A girl takes an ill-advised walk into the forest and meets a wood- sprite who can help her survive the winter until the wood-sprite wants something in return.

So ummm, this is another one I don’t really remember and this is exactly why I should write reviews within a week of reading the damn book but ya girl is behind, man.  

I think it was cute and the writing was pretty??

I just don’t really remember a whole lot which is probably not a good sign for my enjoyment of it.

     │The Secret Life of a Teenage Boy│Alex Sanchez│Tidewater, Virginia, 1969│2.5★‘s│m/m MC, Cuban love interest│

The Secret Life of a Teenage Boy follows a boy as he toys with the idea of taking off with an older guy, (ADULT!) to avoid telling his much-loved family that he’s gay, so he can live his truth.

Hmmmmm nope. I just can’t guys, I really can’t.

I know that it’s quite common of LGBT+ kids to venture out with older people when discovering their sexuality for the first time but I can’t with the adults being interested in children.

I get it, there’s not that big of an age gap except they’re both in completely different stages of their lives and with different maturity levels and I hate it.

Also the entire time I was getting serial killer vibes because this is exactly how every cautionary tale of a boy who goes missing after running away with an adult man begins.

Every single one of them, and do you know how they end??? With the boy dead.

I will admit that I really loved the MC’s relationship with his sister and how she was encouraging of him to be who he truly is but girl, don’t encourage him to go with the possible serial killer, your mum is right to be wary.

     │Walking After Midnight│Kody Keplinger│Upstate New York, 1952│3.5★‘s│w/w, demi MC??│

Walking After Midnight follows Betsy, a teenage actress that can’t help feeling washed-up and passed her prime already as she takes a night stroll with Laura, a waitress at a small town diner.

This was cute and all but also kinda meh.

Like enjoyed their conversation but I also could have done with more of just about everything.

     │The End of the World As We Know It│Sara Farizan│Massachusetts, 1999│★★★★│w/w, Turkish MC│

The End of the World As We Know It follows two ex-best friends as they become reacquainted when facing the end of times.

I loved this story, it was so cute and fluffy but also didn’t shy away from showing the dynamics of female friendship and how it can turn south.

     The Holy Mother was a virgin who never knew any man, and so is Violante. She prays, she knows the ecstasy of love and longing, desire, and the pure, perfect happiness of hands-on hands, lips on lips, the breeze of fluttered lashes. Yet she has never known any man. Is that not perfect love?

││Three Witches│Tessa Gratton│Kingdom of Castile, 1519│★★★★★│w/w│

Three Witches follows a girl who has been sent off to a conversion therapy facility by her own brother for her love of women, and the nun who nurses her back to health.

Read this and try and tell me you are not changed by the end of it.

I finished this feeling so many things most of which were a mixture of hopeful and broken.

Ugh, I don’t know how to put into words how beautiful this story is????

I just loved it so much.

This book hit the nail on the head when it comes to questioning how something everyone tells you is wrong and is a sin can be a part of who you are, something that you cannot change no matter how much you want it to, or try to pray it away.

     │The Inferno & The Butterfly│Shaun David Hutchinson│London, 1839│3.5★‘s│m/m│

The Inferno & The Butterfly follows two magician’s assistants as they work to set each other free.

This was good, I just didn’t really connect to it that much and felt kinda meh about it by the end.

     “What does it matter if he understands? You’ll be alive! We’ll be together!” “I’m all he has,” she said, and her tone told me her decision had been made. “So you’ll die? You’ll die so he doesn’t have to face his own prejudice?” Her eyes filled with tears, and I hated myself for them. “He’s my father. I’m sorry.” she turned away. She ran. She didn’t look back.

││Healing Rosa│Tehlor Kay Mejia│Luna County, New Mexico, 1933│★★★★★│w/w, Latinx MC│

Healing Rosa follows a Bruja who learned the craft from her grandmother and now must use her gift to save the love of her life. Except that the father of her love refuses to let her help, putting his own daughter’s life at risk.

I loved this story so fucking much.

This story reminded me of all the healing women in my family and how fucking frustrating it can be to not be allowed to just help someone, especially someone you love, because of another person’s biases and prejudices.

I just- It’s just-. Ugh. It’s beautiful and heart-wrenching. Go read it.

We lived. We survived to whisper our names to each other even if we could not yet confess them to anyone else.

As a whole, I really enjoyed this anthology! Like a lot, but I already knew that would be the case.

If you’re craving queer stories, want to see queer people in history, want to read something incredibly diverse, or just want a really good anthology, I beg you to pick this up. It shares both the heartbreaking and hopeful stories of LGBT+ youth throughout history.

My only complaint was that the settings were only in America and Europe and like, us gays are everywhere, man. I wish this collection had reflected that. I also wish there had been more stories from further back in history. I want gay stories from as far back as humanity existed! 

“That is the secret to survival. Teach fear to those who taught you to be afraid.”

Where to buy │Goodreads│Book Depository│Kindle│***

Representation will be an amalgamation of Nadia’s, Elise’s & Destiny’s reviews because, again, this was before I really tried to take proper notes during reading. Taken from Goodreads. If you would like me to include links to purchase books from a specific store in my reviews please let me know! I receive a small commission off the following link

I read this book as part of my 2018 Library Love binge, where I read as many library books as possible to take advantage of my great local library network! To follow my binge reading adventure just visit my 2018 Library Love shelf. Or I’ll also be updating my 2018 Library Love Blog Post as I go!

Have you read All Out? What did you think of it? What’s your favourite anthology?

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