#immediately after THAT trip we had to go out of town for a funeral

[verystressedcollegestudent]

god ive just completely wasted the last two months of my life haven't i 🙃

[potatoes83]

Random...

Had a funeral to attend yesterday, on her side of the family. Which meant after all the couple thousand miles of driving from our trip, we had two days at work, immediately after work Friday, a 3 1/2-4 hour drive up to a hotel with the funeral Mass the next morning. And then right back home. Today has thus been a lazy, albeit productive day.

There is such a beauty in the Catholic Mass generally, but when it is then part of a... for lack of a better expression, special occasion, such as a wedding, or a funeral, it adds such a true richness. There is comfort in the ritual, even those who haven't been for quite some time to their "parents' church" that they were brought up in instinctively remember the phrases, the gestures, the steps of the liturgies. All acting as one, together. And then there's the community of it, the priest actually knowing the person, instead of some totally rando funeral director who has probably never even met this person trying to tell you their life story as if they were besties.

I remember my, oh, it had to be my great grandfather's funeral, at some funeral home somewhere (we were not a family of church-going folk) and the dude kept trying to slink in that down-home familiarity, repeating several times how "Hank" had been born and raised in "Rollah, Mizzourah" (that's the town of Rolla, Missouri in an over-the-top "look how Southern I am, Blanche from the Golden Girls eat your heart out accent")... Rollah, Missourah, Rollah, Missourah, and it was just so obvious, though I'm sure he was doing his best, that he had no idea whatsoever about this man's story that wasn't included on a 3x5 card. And even at whatever young age I happened to be, it just seemed... obnoxious. Disingenuous. Enough so that it still sticks in my somewhat eidetic memory to this day.

I'm not saying that you're besties and drinking buddies with your priest, and he can spin a tale about you akin to your best friend, that's pretty much never the case, but you are part of a greater family, and there is a familiarity in that. The community knew you, the ushers, the ladies serving food, the priest who served you Holy Communion for six months or sixty years. Your friends and neighbors. They are all there to tell your story, and to comfort each other.

And of course, there is the reassurance of our faith. We know where we are going. We know that despite everything in this messed up world of Man, we win in the end. Saved by the Precious Blood, promised our Resurrection. And we get eternal life in the Kingdom of God. And that's pretty dang nifty.

We are reminded in the Mass of the Last Supper, as a memorial of Jesus' death and resurrection. It puts us there in that time, all of us together, as witness to the Good News, and reassurance that because of His sacrifice, we have been saved from death. The Mass... grows, from the entrance of the presider, to the culmination of the Eucharist, as it has been done for centuries. Our prayers, for those gone, and those on earth who need them. The incense, though not used as often anymore, representing our prayers ascending to heaven. The Holy water, reminding us of our baptism. All of these rituals, these sacramentals, reminding us, if anything, what it's all about and what it's all working toward, even at a time of loss.

For every tear shed, there was laughter. People hugging, so happy to see each other (and damn if this isn't a reminder to ALL of us that people need to do more family reunions, because it's a real shame when you only see relations when someone dies). As much grief as everyone is feeling, there is so much love, so much togetherness, as we see our loved one off into the next world, to be risen up on the last day. 🥔

[savethepinecones]

i have been tasked with scanning all of my grandmother's handwritten recipe books (there are four plus a basket full of camping recipes and several other loose papers that the rest of the family has found while cleaning her house) and i spent like seven hours today scanning and formatting hundreds of recipes while everyone around me hauled stuff out of the house. at one point i tried to help the others by taking some of the decades worth of magazines from the basement to the truck we were using to transport everything and after three or four trips up and down the stairs i was forced to remember that i do in fact have asthma and doing that sort of thing will leave me wheezing and miserable for a good half hour after i finally give up. on the other hand a solid majority of my family is mormon and the several of us that arent try to be respectful by not swearing around them etc and over the past several days weve all been in town ive witnessed several swears both accidental and intentional and im living for the reactions. my mom keeps swearing out of habit and being absolutely horrified that one of her siblings might have heard her. my aunt said fuck at church (this one was secondhand knowledge since i didnt go to church myself ofc). my cousin whose queerness rivals my own was very diligent about not swearing up until we were the only people in the room and then proceeded to swear about three times a sentence while trying to organize the bookshelves. also another cousin of mine who ive never been close to and havent seen in years but is very mormon and last id heard extremely homophobic got married recently and i met her husband at the funeral where the first thing he told me was "ive heard entirely good things about you" and that either means my cousin is no longer homophobic and is trying to correct for past behavior by singing my praises or she and her husband are both not fans of me on principle and the guy immediately overcompensated. anyway im doing surprisingly okay energy-wise considering i havent been able to work for two months now and ive had a ton of family shit thrown on top of that so im either going to completely break down once im home and away from all of this or my new meds are fucking magical

[mewpre]

It’s starting to sink in that my grandpa may pass soon this year and I am struggling.

Earlier this year, my parents started planning for the whole family to vacation in Taiwan, mostly for fun but also to spend time with our maternal and paternal grandparents; they have not met my nephew yet so it’s also an opportunity for them to meet their great-grandson. My partner hasn’t been to Taiwan since 2020 and is really looking forward to going again. My SIL’s family also wanted to go so since they’ve never been to Taiwan so it’s turned into a big extended family trip.

About a month ago, my maternal grandpa had a stroke and my parents left for Taiwan early to help him with the doctors and take care of my maternal grandma. My parents kept us updated on his condition and things had seemed promising immediately after operation, when he had been discharged from the ICU to recover in the main hospital, but the latest update was that he was struggling to breathe on his own and had to go back to the ICU for at least 3 weeks. From the way my mom was talking, if he still can’t breathe on his own after that, we don’t want to extend his suffering.

I couldn’t sleep last night thinking about different scenarios. What if he passes before we get there and I’m not able to say goodbye? What if he passes while we’re there and we’re not in the right headspace to be good hosts for my SIL’s family? What if he passes after I come back to the US and I’m unable to attend his funeral? I can’t decide which one would be the most preferable because they’re all terrible.

It doesn’t help that my maternal grandpa is the grandparent I feel closest with. My paternal ones have always treated me like I’m not really their grandchild because they’re EXTREMELY old school and think daughters are destined to marry out of the family so why care about them. My maternal grandparents knew this and made special effort to make me feel loved, especially my grandpa. It was my grandpa who took us to activities I wanted to go to and secretly bought me extra treats when my parents and brother weren’t watching. As someone who has always struggled with finding a sense of belonging, I really appreciate my grandpa and the little things he did for me to make me feel special and part of the family.

I don’t know how I’m going to be remotely productive at work before I leave for Taiwan. We’re also hosting out-of-town friends this weekend and next and I have to keep it together and not be a total crying mess while they’re here. It’s going to be really hard.

[drwcn]

CQL!AU: Everyone is an orphan except Wei Wuxian, and the Twin Jades are dark practitioners. Needless to say, that changes things. (canon what canon) 

Master Post

~

[1-3]

[1] Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan were the ones who died early. Wei Changze returned to Lotus Pier to become the guardian and regent of his best friend’s son and heir. 

Lotus Pier was black and white. Lifeless. 

That was the first thought that crossed Cangse Sanren’s mind when she and Wei Changze docked at the port, swords in hand, and their little son in toll. 

The people mourned. Posts were temporarily closed, the market suspended. Windows and doors of their bustling riverside town were firmly shut, with white and black drapes hanging from its sills and fluttering in the wind. 

Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan were dead. Two young cultivators, parents, taken from this world too young, gone before their time. 

“A-Ying, come child,” Cangse extended a hand to the boy who glanced around at the unfamiliar place with timid curiosity. 

“A-niang, what’s going on?” 

“No questions. You must behave yourself today.” Cangse brought her son closer to her, watching her husband’s usually smiling, gentle face pull taut into a mask that betrayed none of the grief he felt underneath. He held himself taller today, shoulders pulled back, spine rod-straight and jaws clenched. She’d forgotten, after all these wonderful years of travelling the world with their family, that this place was once his home. 

“Er’shixiong,” a man greeted them at the pier, flanked by a party of younger Jiang disciples, all appropriately garbed with white sashes around their waist. “Cangse-daozhang.” 

They had spoken in depth about returning. Cangse knew there was nothing she could do to stop him; Changze’s devotion to Jiang Fengmian ran deeper than she understood. It was never herself that Yu Ziyuan should’ve resented; though however misplaced Madam Yu’s jealousy had been, it was a moot point now.  

Chang’ge, I will not ask you to choose between your love for him and your promise to me. If Lotus Pier is where you wish to go, I will go with you. I cannot promise however that I will always stay. That — is not my nature. 

Thank you, Wumei*. I understand. 

They found Jiang Wanyin, the little lord, and his sister Jiang Yanli, in their mourning robes, kneeling and crying before their parents’ funeral altar.  

Wei Changze sunk to his knees beside them, and folded his body until his forehead hit the ground. “Shixiong,” he spoke to the spirits. “I’ve come back.” 

“Who are you?!” The boy Jiang Cheng, five-years-old and hurting, blurted out rudely through his tears. His sister held him from behind and gave a trembling nod of deference to the older man. 

“Wei-shishu.”  

Beside her, clinging to her skirt, Wei Ying looked up and asked quietly, “A-niang, are we going to stay?” 

Cangse Sanren, the favoured fifth pupil of Baoshan Sanren herself, smiled down quietly at her only child and smoothed back his hair. “Yes, A-Ying we will. Lotus Pier is home now.” 

(JC 5 yro; WWX 5 yro; JYL 8 yro)

[2] When Qingheng-jun’s respected mentor died - murdered - he made a very different choice. He turned his back on his clan and his responsibilities, and escaped into the wild with the woman he loved. They were just an ordinary family, living away from the chaos in a paradise of their own. But even Eden eventually falls, and nothing gold ever stays... 

Take A-Huan and A-Zhan and go! Do not stop until you are safe. Do not turn around. Do not come back. 

Shijie! You’re injured! Let me help you - 

Zhao Ming! Zhao Zhuliu, you listen to me: their names, Lan Xichen for the older, and Lan Wangji for the younger. It’s what their father and I wanted for them. 

Shijie - jiejie - 

Now go! Go! 

A-Niang, come with us! A-Niang, don’t go!! A-Niang!!! 

The forest burned like the autumn sun at dusk descending from the sky, red and golden and glorious. A single figure stood amongst the flames, corpses littered at her feet. Bichen fell from her grip, barely making a sound as it landed against dampened earth, soaked with Lan blood.  Those who fought her were dead, but she feared that she did not have long either.

“Rong-gege,” Qiu Baiti collapsed onto her hands and dragged her body towards the man who lay still amongst the carnage, arrows piercing his front, his sword Shuoyue still clutched tight in his left hand. 

Lifeless eyes remained open, as though he could not rest. 

“Rong-gege,” Baiti called helplessly, crawling to him and laying her head down against his chest. There used to be a heartbeat there, and if she closed her eyes, she could almost hear it again. “Wait, don’t go without me...” 

She was so tired and bled from so many places. It was not until a sharp cry and a familiar face descended from the sky that Qiu Baiti realized the inferno which surrounded her was not yet hell. 

"Qiu-jiejie!" Cangse rushed forth, almost tripping over the corpse of a dead Lan disciple in her haste. “Lan-da’ge, he -” A horrified gasp drowned the rest of her words. 

“Cangse...you’re here...” 

Cangse gathered her bosom sister into her arms and immediately drew upon a torrent of spiritual energy from her core, channeling them into her fingertips to heal her friend. She could tell that whatever combat Qiu Baiti had been through, it had already taken the little life inside her, and now hers was following it to the other side.   

“Hold on, I can save you - hold on -”

“Cangse - Cang - stop, it’s too late.” Qiu Baiti lay limp there.  

Death, it drew near, but she was ready. She closed her eyes as a slip of tear escaped beneath her lashes. "I did this to him, to all of them... if I hadn't...it’s all my fault. I was the one they wanted; he was just trying to protect me. A-Huan, A-Zhan...."

Trembling and in near hysterics, Cangse sobbed, “No, don’t say that! Where are the boys?” 

“Safe. A-Ming has them...you mustn’t tell anyone. Not anyone, promise me. Not even Lan Qiren. Especially Lan Qiren... Rong-gege trusts his brother, but I - I - promise me - promise -” Qiu Baiti gasped for breath, gurgling blood in her throat with each laboured attempt. 

“Qiu-jiejie, please - don’t - I - I promise.” 

“Good...Cangse...” Qiu Baiti clutched her hand and smiled, a crimson wound cutting across her pale, beautiful face. “Good.” 

And then she died, with the red of the forest flames still in her eyes. 

Cangse held her friend - dear, damned, dead - and allowed a scream to tear through herself. From the depth of her grief, she released a pulse of unrestrained spiritual energy that rippled through the dense woods as though the storm of her anguish could not be contained. And like a measly candle-light assaulted by the winter wind, the forest fire was extinguished in an instant. 

The sun was gone, and the night was dark.  All was quiet, but there was no peace to be found. 

 Cangse buried Lan Cenrong and Qiu Baiti in two unmarked graves side by side beneath a tall oak tree. She sifted through the bodies and the grime and collected the spiritual weapons they left behind — Shuoyue, Bichen, Liebing (cracked in two places) and the strings of Qiu Baiti’s shattered guqin — and stored them away in her qiankun pouch. She hoped one day that she would find Zhao Zhuliu and the sons Lan Cenrong and Qiu Baiti had left behind, and return these items to their rightful owners. 

It was not until three years later, not too far from her shifu Baoshan’s sacred temple nestled in the snowy mountain peak, where Jiang Yanli had been brought to strengthen her health and train as Cangse’s direct disciple, that Cangse perchance came across Zhao Ming again. 

He was accompanied by two youngsters, two beautiful jade-like children who called him jiufu. Cangse was not surprised in the least to find that both of them have learned the technique for which their mother and jiujiu were hunted: the core-melting hand. 

(LXC 9, LWJ 6 -> LXC 12, LWJ 9 ) 

[3] They called her “The Little Queen”. Wen Qing never wanted to be Sect Master, or Deputy Sect Master, or Regent Sect Master. She just wanted to live quietly with A-Ning and Wen-popo and study the art of healing that her parents practiced. But alas, life had other plans. 

Wen Qing was a month short of her tenth birthday when her life changed forever. 

Wen Ruohan, her father’s older cousin, who’d always been close with her family, had come to visit Dafan. Wen-bobo didn’t have siblings, and her father Wen Ruotian was as close as a brother to him, more than any other Wen descendent of their time. 

Wen Qing liked Wen Ruohan well. He was doting and found her intelligent. Her parents chose the simple village life, but they often spent New Years and holy days at Nevernight at Sect Master Wen’s behest and invitation.  

When Wen Ruohan came to Dafan and told her folks that there was a piece of the Yin Iron inside the Stone Fairy, her father had been eager to help, though weary he was of those powers he could not understand. 

He’d been right to be afraid. 

The extraction had gone horribly wrong, and the rebound of dark energy had eviscerated all those near by, her mother, her father, and Wen Ruohan himself. It was by the skin of her teeth that Wen Qing managed to yank her baby brother Wen Ning out of the way. Then, without thinking, she caught the vile, wretched thing as it sailed through the air. It landed in the palm of her hands, and there she stood, regarded with fear and bewonderment from all those in witness as the cursed item, which burned the life out of cultivators much older and seasoned than her, quieted in her small hands. 

The Elders said she had...a nature affinity. For what, they could not say. 

Wen Qing was brought back to Nevernight and given the name Yuefan: to exceed mortality. Within days, the heavy crown of Sect Master of Qishan Wen was placed on her head. 

It was then that she learned that her Wen-bobo, with no inclination to marry and bind himself to another, did not leave behind a legitimate heir. His young sons, 4-year old Wen Xu and 2 year-old Wen Chao were born to him by women of ill repute.  They were kind, good boys, but they were infantile and illegitimate. Wen Qing felt for them, but she could not change their fate. So for the time being, she accepted what she had to. 

The adults did what they could for her, but there was no one in the cold, vast palace of Nevernight to mind her or nurture her. She stood alone upon the towers where the eternal flames, fuelled by Qishan Wen’s combined spiritual energy, burned in their iron brazier, and watched over the lush volcanic mountain range that was hers to govern and protect. Those beneath her - servants, disciples - feared her and her unknown powers. Those advising her - Elders, mentors - had their own agendas. In any case, they stopped seeing her as a child the minute she held the Yin Iron in her hands and lived to tell the tale. 

It was a secret, they told her. She must guard it well. 

The Chief Cultivator Jin Guangshan sent his ambassadors to congratulate her succession. Gusu’s Lan Qiren and Qinghe’s Nie Heqiu both arrived consecutively to pay their respects to their ten-year-old colleague and fellow Sect Master. 

There was a momentary rumble amongst the Wen Elders about whether Nie Heqiu’s older son Nie Mingjue would be a good match for her someday, but as he too was set to inherit, the idea was put aside as quickly as it was brought up. 

Then came Yunmeng’s regent Wei Changze, bringing along an entourage of Jiang disciples and a boy one year her junior, the son he conceived with the revered Cangse Sanren. 

Wei Wuxian. 

Wen Qing liked him enough. He was spontaneous, agreeable, and clever, and he found her aloofness fun to provoke. They would’ve both been satisfied with the arrangement had she not met Yunmeng Jiang’s young Jiang-zongzhu some years later, and had he not crossed paths with the vengeful and infamous Lan Wangji. 

But life, as the gods have planned it, must have its mysteries. 

(WQ 10, WWX 9) 

TBH?  

Note: 

Wumei - fifth sister, Wei Changze’s nickname for Cangse. 

Details of Cangse and Wei Changze’s name as well as Qingheng-jun and Madam Lan’s name can be found here .

jiufu 舅父 - maternal uncle, formal.  

[moronic-validity]

The Vincent Sinclair’s Boot x Reader Fic

okay so a few notes! 

1) Reader is a trans guy (like your’s truly) 

2) This is smut for the sake of smut, plain and simple.

3) I finished this at 2:30am and I have to be at work at 8. 

This Contains: dubcon/coerced consent, drugs, bdsm, dom vincent, a boot kink, typos, almost murder, masturbation, and car problems! Everything under the cut is 18+!!!

As the temperature gauge crept higher and higher, [y/n] had to kick himself. He had been told to check his oil periodically through the road trip, but more than that, he had always been told to keep an extra thing of 5-20 in his car. Both pieces of advice went in one ear and out the other.

Which left him here, in the middle of nowhere Louisiana, 30 miles shy of Baton Rouge.

The immediate reaction was to get out of his car and scream. Sure, it was near midnight, but there wasn’t anyone nearby, so what was the worst thing that could happen.  The flash of headlights on him and his car answered his question.

Great. Fantastic. Cool.

“Hey, sorry about the yelling,” he called out in the general direction of the headlights. “Any chance you have some 5-20, I’ll be right out of here if you do!”

No response. [y/n] sighed and sat on the hood of his car and watched the car. It was the middle of the night and it was still hotter than hell and humid to match. Without giving it much thought, he pulled his t shirt over his head and sat it on the hood next to him. What did it matter, he had a binder on anyway. Not like anything was showing.

The mystery driver flashed his brights at [y/n], then threw it in reverse and went back to where he came from.

Well that’s fantastic. I’m in the middle of nowhere and someone knows I’m stranded here. Perfect.

Without giving any more thought to it, he got back into his car and went to sleep, his t shirt thrown over his eyes.

The sun didn’t wake him up, the tapping on his window did.

[y/n] scrambled into an acceptable position and pulled his still damp t shirt on. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he was able to see the man standing near his window. The man wasn’t intimidating or anything, but the situation was odd and [y/n] was immediately warry.

“Sorry ‘bout that, didn mean to startle ya or nothin,” The man with the green hat said with a small laugh, “it just looked like ya might need some help, most people don like sleepin in their car this time a year.”

[y/n] squinted at the guy. It wasn’t due to the accent or the look of him, the sun just happened to be right in his eyes. The perfect start to another fantastic day.

“Uh yeah, I’ve definitely had better days. Any chance you know where to get a quart or two of oil?” He asked, ending it with a still tired yawn.

“I could give ya a lift into town, ‘m sure Bo will help you out at the station,” The green hatted man offered helpfully.

“Actually, that’d be wonderful, thank you…” [y/n] realized that he just accepted a ride from a man who’s name he didn’t even know. His mother would be so proud.

“Lester, Lester Sinclair,” Lester said with an extended hand.

“[y/n], [y/n] [l/n]” He took the other’s hand and gave a firm shake. [y/n] was acutely aware of the tacky reddish-brown smudge that was now on his hand.

The ride into town was quite, aside from the rumble of Lester’s truck and the sound of tires throwing rock.

“So where’re you headed?” Lester asked, glancing over at [y/n].

“Ah, no direction, wanted to go up, down, coast to coast. Want to see a little bit of everything, I guess,” [y/n] picked at the skin around his index finger, “I’ve only broken down once, so I figure I’m doing okay.”

“Welcome to Ambrose, I know it probably isn where ya wanted t’ go, but there are worse places.” Lester said cheerfully.

The ride went back to being quiet.

“Oh shit,” Lester whined, more to himself than anything else, as he threw the car in park and jumped out, “ya wouldn’ mind givin me a hand flipping the hubs, would ya?”

What the hell does that even mean? {y/n] thought to himself as he hopped out of the car to help Lester with the task anyway. Help was a bit of a strong word for what [y/n] did, it was more get in the way and offer moral support. Lester appreciated the gesture and the company. Most people jumped out of the car and fled into town by this point.

The two got back into the truck and drove right on into Ambrose and parked in front of the service station.

“Now, you wait here, Bo ‘ll be ‘round soon,” Lester dropped [y/n] off with a wave then drove off to wherever he worked. It occurred to [y/n] that he never thought to ask.

It also occurred to [y/n] that he’d have to walk back to his car or hope that someone in town would be willing to give him a ride. Just one more thing. He sighed and sat with his back against the wall of the station.

At least there’s shade. It’s already starting to feel like the devil’s armpit, but at least there is shade.

Time passed, could’ve been hours, could’ve been minutes.

No, it was definitely hours.

Around the point [y/n] was sure that this Bo guy would have to pry him off the cement with a spatula, Bo happened to come down the road and up to the door of the station, near where he was sitting. Bo stood within arm’s distance as [y/n] pushed himself up off the sidewalk.

“I take it you’re Bo? [Y/n] [l/n], Lester said you might have some oil?” [y/n] offered the man he assumed to be Bo his hand. Bo flashed [y/n] a smile that seemed to try to hard to be charming.

“Well, I’d introduce myself but you already know who I am,” Bo chuckled. He was in a suit and tie, didn’t seem like he was dressed for his line of work. “ Let’s see if we can’t get you back on the road, hm?” He hummed to himself as he unlocked the door to let the two men into the store.

There was no AC, and that was the first problem [y/n] had with the station. The second problem was that there appeared to be no oil. Anywhere.

What type of station doesn’t carry oil. Oil. OIL. Walmart carries oil, DG carries oil. Why does this man not have oil.

“Uh….Hey Bo, any chance you have some oil in the garage that you’re willing to part with?” [y/n] asked, while squatting and looking at another shelf devoid of oil.

“I’m sure I could check,” Bo said, his voice drifting further away. [y/n] kept looking.

“So I’ve got some bad news, I don’t have any oil down here;” ,” Bo said as he re-entered the store, wiping his hands down on a grease rag, “Good news though, I got my restock shipment in yesterday and just haven’t gotten around to bringing it down from the house. I’m more than willing to let you wait here while I go up to to get what you need, but you look like you need something to drink.”

[y/n] thought it over. This would mark the second time in less than 24 hours that he went somewhere with a random stranger, but at least this time he knew the guy’s name.

Well, the south is known for its hospitality, so I might as well go and get something to drink.

“I’d really appreciate something to drink and thank you so much for the help,” [y/n] said, suddenly aware that his mouth felt like it was full of glue.

The pair were about halfway to the house, when [y/n] finally felt the need to ask about the suit.

“Okay so, I know it’s absolutely none of my business, but why are you wearing a suit? Isn’t it a bit hot for that?” Bo stopped moving at [y/n]’s question and seemed to consider a few possible answers before he nodded to himself and kept walking.

“Well, it’s not the heat that gets you, it’s the humidity,” he chuckled to himself, “and uh,” he paused to clear his throat, “My mom passed on, was at her service.”

“Bo, I am so sorry. If you don’t mind, I’ll be sure to pay my respects before I leave town,” [y/n] couldn’t help but feel intense sympathy for Bo.

He left his mom’s funeral to help me get some oil so I can get back on the road. Holy shit.

They walked in silence for the rest of the day, [y/n] was unsure how to comfort this stranger, so he just followed the other man’s lead. Silence.

Bo unlocked the door when they got up on the step and lead [y/n] into the house.

“Washroom is down the hall if you need it, the door should be open,” Bo motioned towards the washroom, “Make yourself at home.”  

With that, Bo was in the kitchen, pouring two glasses of sweet tea. [y/n] decided to take Bo up on his offer of a washroom. Once the door was shut, he fought with his binder for a minute, before finally getting it off his chest, letting it hang loosely around his neck. At this point, it just felt good to take a few deep breaths. After a few minutes passed, [y/n] pulled his binder back into place, swore he’d keep it off until he hit the next rest stop, then went back out into the house and met Bo in the kitchen.

Bo handed [y/n] the glass of sweet tea, condensation already beading on the sides. Nice and cold and incredibly sweet, it even tasted southern. And a bit salty. [y/n] had never had homemade sweet tea before, so he assumed that maybe that just happened sometimes with the tea when it cooled.

The room started to sway.

“Hey, [y/n] maybe you should sit down, looks like the heat is getting to you,” Bo said, worry in his voice, but a smile on his lips, “maybe you ought to lay down for a bit.”

Not a bad idea. Not a bad idea at all.

That was weird, he tried to say it out loud, but his mouth didn’t seem to want to cooperate. Bo helped [y/n] to sit on the couch and as his vision started to darken, [y/n] swore he saw another person enter the room.

When [y/n] came to, he realized a few things in short order. It was much darker, he was not on the couch, and he was restrained to the metal table he way laying on. Ever the optimist, he was thankful for the fact that he still had his clothes on and also for the fact it was much cooler wherever he was.

A tall man with long dark hair entered his line of sight. [y/n] had a few ideas of things to yell at him, but instead, took a different approach.

“So, either I’ve been asleep for a really long time, or you’re not Bo,” [y/n] said, turning his head to get a better look at the man. The man’s shoulders shook, like he was laughing without the noise.

Okay so he can’t talk. Noted.

The man turned around to face the table and made sure his hands were in clear view as he signed, “Vincent.”

The motions were smooth and [y/n] caught it near immediately.

“Vincent is a nice name,” he mused, giving Vincent a charming smile of his own, “I’m [y/n]. Now, I do have a few questions, mainly, why am I tied up?”

Vincent turned his back on [y/n] and went back to preparing the paralytic, deciding to make it a bit stronger so the man on the table wouldn’t have to be awake for the worst of it. When he turned around and [y/n] saw the needle, the reality of the situation began to sink in and things snapped into focus.

“Hey Vincent, I don’t know what’s in that needle, but I promise you don’t have to do whatever it is you’re about to do,” [y/n] tried to keep his voice level as he squirmed and fought against the restraints, “I know we don’t know each other, but I swear you don’t need to do this.”

Vincent watched him writhe on the table and considered his options.

“Please, can we talk this out, please,” [y/n] continued to beg, tears forming in the corners of his eyes and bruises already forming at both his wrists and his ankles from the jerking around. Desperation in one hell of a drug, because in no other situation could [y/n] see himself saying, “I’ll do anything to convince you.”

Vincent set the syringe back down and walked up to the head of the table and gripped [y/n]’s jaw and turned his head to make sure he saw when he signed “Are you sure?” he drew it out to emphasize the importance of the question.

Was [y/n] sure? No. No he wasn’t, but he wasn’t in a place that allowed many options. Behind door one? Death! Behind door two? A questionable fate that could very well still end in death!

Yeah, I’ll go with door number two, please.

[y/n] nodded, Vincent’s hand still not leaving his jaw.

Vincent considered the situation for a moment. He considered the number of girls that Bo had brought to him after he had had his way with them at the station. Girls had never really been Vincent’s speed.  There were plenty of attractive guys who had come through, but mostly they were either already dead or just spit curses at him. [y/n] was different. No threats, no insults, he was shockingly calm, all things considered. Vincent stroked up and down the side of [y/n]’s face, bringing his hand into the smaller man’s hair and pulling, eliciting a soft whimper.

“I want you to show me,” Vincent signed before undoing the restraints at [y/n]’s ankles. As for his hands? His hands were going to stay bound, but a change of position was still needed. Vincent kept eye contact with [y/n] as he undid his wrists.

[y/n] sat up on the table, moving slowly as to not startle Vincent. The last thing he wanted was to scare the guy who probably had a half dozen ways to kill him in arms reach. His wrists ached and were bleeding in some places. He rubbed at his sore joints before Vincent snapped his fingers, pointed directly at him, then down at the floor near his boot clad feet.

[y/n] had the opportunity to make a run for it, but instead knelt at Vincent’s feet. Vincent put his hand out and without thinking, [y/n] rested the side of his face against it. Vincent’s face burned beneath his mask, that was not what he needed the man to do. He pulled his hand away and gently slapped at the kneeling man’s face, not hard enough to hurt him, but hard enough for him to know that that was not the desired action. The kneeling man was a quick learner and when Vincent put his hand out again, he reluctantly placed his wrists in the larger man’s hands.

[y/n] was not thrilled at this situation, but he was also a simple man, and for all the terror in the situation, Vincent was a large man with shockingly soft hands that were big enough to envelop both of his wrists, who had complete control over the situation. Should he be getting wet due to the situation? Absolutely not, but in the one psychology class he took in high school, it was mentioned that fear and arousal were close together in the brain.

Vincent saw the bruising and blood on the smaller man’s wrists and was careful when he rebound them. Sure, he was planning on killing the guy, but his plans had changed. He threaded a rope and carefully suspended his wrists so that his wrists would remain above his head.

[y/n]’s first thought was that Vincent wanted head. Most guys he had met enjoyed getting head, so it did make sense. He carefully pressed his cheek against the man’s crotch and nuzzled against it, then looked up and into Vincent’s eyes for any sign. Instead, Vincent just lifted his knee and pushed [y/n] off of him like he was a disobedient dog.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind as to what he wanted, if not a blow job. He was further confused when Vincent lifted his boot clad foot and pressed it into the smaller man’s pelvic bone, hard.

Oh.

The pressure of it was enough to lift him up just a little bit more and it had him wetter than he thought he could be in a situation like this. He pressed down onto the shoe and began to grind against it, shamelessly chasing the friction it created.

Vincent groaned. His cock twitched as he watched the man’s lewd display. He didn’t want [y/n] to touch him, not yet. There was still the chance that could go horribly wrong, what Vincent wanted was to see exactly how desperate the man was. Vincent began to palm himself, stroking through the fabric of his pants while he watched.

The answer was very. [y/n] was very desperate. [y/n] was desperate not to die and now, now he was also desperate to cum. He pressed himself harder against the toe of Vincent’s boot and rutted against it, groaning loudly when it pressed up against that bundle of nerves. He began to fall into a rhythm that hit every sensitive spot he could reach.

Vincent’s hand was now in his pants as he stroked himself to the same rhythm [y/n] was fucking himself to. God,  Vincent thought to himself, this man was making an absolute whore of himself. It might not be a bad idea to keep him around. Could make work slightly less taxing. Then the bound man made a sound that snapped Vincent out of his thoughts and almost made him cream his pants.

He was getting so close, he had thrown himself so into chasing his high that he almost forgot that the circumstances that brought him to this were less than desirable. He pressed began to rotate his hips so that bundle of nerves caught significantly more pressure and more friction. He let out a loud, needy whine.

“Please Vincent, please tell me I can cum, I’ve been such a good boy, please God, Vincent,” the words came tumbling out of his mouth, he was babbling and begging for a different release now. Vincent bucked into his own hand, listening to the whines and pleas.

Tears were starting to form in [y/n]’s eyes again, he was trying so hard to be good for Vincent, trying so hard to be his good boy. Sure, less than an hour ago, he wanted nothing more than to be as far from him as possible, but God, he was so close to cumming and he just needed Vincent to tell him he had been good. Hadn’t he been good enough to deserve release?

Vincent pressed his crotch against [y/n]’s face and continued to jack himself off. He didn’t want the man’s mouth, but he wanted the proximity. He was so close to his own release. So so close, all he needed was-

“Oh GOD, sir please, I’ve been so good for you, please sir. Tell me I’ve been a good boy for you, tell me I’m your good boy, please sir; oh my God, please, please,” [y/n] continued to babble, now crying for release against Vincent’s aching cock.

Yeah, that just about did it for him. Vincent’s orgasm took him hard and left a sizable stain that leaked into the front of his pants and against the begging man’s face. Vincent closed his eyes, lost in his own release. When things snapped back into focus, he realized the other man was still whining pitifully, still having not came.

Vincent had to admit, he was impressed at the man’s willpower, it was oddly attractive to him that the man refused to grant himself pleasure without permission. This could actually work out wonderfully, Vincent thought to himself.

He took the rope in his free hand and yanked on it hard enough to knock the [y/n] off balance. He looked up at Vincent as he tried to regain balance. Vincent let go of the rope and let him drop onto his knees, but his eyes were still locked on his masked face.

Vincent thought about it for a moment before signing “I want you to cum.”

That was all [y/n] needed to hear before going back to rutting against the shoe, quickly going over the edge and coating the toe of the boot in his fluids. He braced himself against Vincent’s leg, mumbling thank yous as he came back down. Vincent allowed this to go on for a short while, before cutting the rope and pressing [y/n]’s face down to the still wet boot.

Vincent used one hand to yank [y/n]’s hair to make the blissed out man look up at him, with the other hand, he calmly signed “Clean it up.”

[96thdayofrage]

The white police officer who fatally shot Patrick Lyoya in the head during a traffic stop in Grand Rapids, Michigan, was finally identified on Monday, three weeks after the horrific incident was captured on video.

Local police said Officer Christopher Schurr, who has been with the department since 2015, was placed on administrative leave in connection with the April 4 shooting death of Lyoya, a 26-year-old Black man.

Authorities said Lyoya fled a traffic stop just prior to the shooting, and that he appeared to grab the cop’s taser during an ensuing struggle. There is no evidence that Lyoya was armed before the fatal incident, and body-camera and other footage showed a stop that began with a dispute over vehicle registration end with a man being shot, apparently from behind and with his face down.

Kent County prosecutors have said they will wait for the conclusion of a state police investigation to decide on any possible charges against Schurr, who could not immediately be reached for comment. Protests have been a fixture in the city in recent days, fueled by anger over a legacy of police violence and misconduct toward local communities of color.

“An intentional three-week delay in releasing the name of the involved officer, which they clearly knew at the moment of the shooting, is offensive and the exact opposite of being ‘transparent,’” Ven Johnson, an attorney representing the Lyoya family, said in a statement. “Once again, we see the Grand Rapids Police Department taking care of its own at the expense of the family’s mental health and well-being.”

Chief Eric Winstrom had said in a Monday statement that the decision to name the officer who killed Lyoya was in “the interest of transparency, to reduce on-going speculation, and to avoid any further confusion” in the case that has garnered national attention.

While authorities have not released further details about Schurr, local media reports showed someone by that name graduating from Sienna Heights University in 2014 with a degree in criminal justice.

In a 2014 interview with MLive, Chris Schurr said he was engaged to his high-school sweetheart, and that the couple had plans to get married in Kenya after visiting on a trip building houses through their church.

“We were asked to go again this year, but we couldn’t afford a wedding and the trip, so we decided to combine them,” Schurr told the outlet, noting that the couple had planned to wear traditional Kenyan wedding attire.

The official release of Schurr’s name comes days after Lyoya’s funeral, where Rev. Al Sharpton demanded justice for the fatal shooting of Lyoya, an immigrant from the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

“Every time a young Black man or woman is arrested in this town, you put their name all over the news. Every time we’re suspected of something, you put our name out there,” Sharpton said to a packed crowed at the Renaissance Church of God in Christ on Friday, adding,“How dare you hold the name of a man that killed this man. We want his name!”

Sharpton also called for a federal investigation into the killing.

Forensic pathologist Dr. Werner Spitz, who was retained by Lyoya’s family, revealed last week he believed Schurr’s gun was pressed to the back of Lyoya’s head when he was shot—and that he sustained no other wounds in the incident.

Authorities have not released an official autopsy, though they indicated in Monday’s statement that documents would be released to the public shortly.

[maybeimamuppet]

you happened

hey darlings!! happy wednesday!!!

let’s get right into it shall we?

tw for

discussion of canon events in mg (outing, etc)

discussion of canon events in the prom (homophobia, etc.)

this was requested by @spidy-nugget like forever ago so thank you for your patience and i hope you enjoy!

—

“Oh!” Cady says, interrupting herself in the middle of a sentence. “I just remembered! My cousin is coming to visit next week, do you guys want to meet her?”

“Emma?” Damian asks excitedly. Cady nods. “Yes! Is she bringing the-her… Broadway friends?”

“I dunno, she didn’t tell me,” Cady giggles. “But probably, she said they usually visit her at some point every summer.”

“I should probably be there to stop him from combusting if they do come,” Janis huffs. “But also, yes, I want to meet her too.”

“She’s an absolute icon,” Damian says happily. “God, her song. Still makes me cry.”

“You cried watching Finding Dory yesterday,” Janis retaliates.

“It’s a sad movie! Sometimes!” Damian defends. “Anyway, tell me all about Emma.”

“Okay,” Cady giggles again. “She’s a year older than us, and she’s my cousin on my mom’s side. Um… you know her whole… prom fiasco. I’ve only met her in person once when I was ten, for Rhys’ funeral. But we were pen pals when we were really little. And now we just text and stuff.”

“Cute,” Damian says. “And is her girlfriend coming?”

“Oh! Yeah,” Cady says around a mouthful of Janis’ milkshake. “Her name is Alyssa, she’s, like, super smart. Did every possible activity in high school, that kind of thing. But she’s been with Emma when we’ve Facetimed and stuff before and she’s super sweet.”

“Aww,” Damian coos. “I can’t wait!”

————-

Luckily for him, Damian doesn’t have to wait too long. Emma and Alyssa arrive the following week in Emma’s pickup. Damian has been pressed against the window all day, like a small child watching for the ice cream truck. He gasps dramatically when four people in matching sequined tracksuits also hop out of the backseat, grumbling about being cramped together for such a long trip.

Cady opens the door to let everyone in, and is quickly swamped by a crowd of people much taller than her. Janis pops up on her tippy toes to try and find her girlfriend to save her, but doesn’t succeed.

Everyone heads into the living room, and Janis laughs when she finds Cady being carried in like a sack of potatoes by one of the men that came with Emma.

“Emma, why didn’t you tell me your cousin was so adorable?” He demands. “Look at this, she’s so small.”

“Please put me down,” Cady squeaks. Janis heads over and reaches for her.

“Can I have my girlfriend back, please?”

“And she’s gay!” The man says happily, passing Cady over like she’s a small dog. Janis holds her close and smoothes her hair back to where it was.

“Bi, actually,” Cady grumbles.

“Well, aren’t you something. Oh, my name is Barry, by the way. As if you haven’t heard of me.”

“Barry, we talked about this,” Emma chides. “They haven’t. Except Damian.”

“And where is this Damian? I want to meet him,” one of the ladies says. “Oh, and my name is Dee Dee.”

Damian enters shyly and gives a little wave. Janis cackles, “Dude, you’re totally starstruck, look at you!”

“Uh-hi,” he stutters. “I’m Damian.”

“Aww!” The other lady says. “Look at your little cheeks, what a sweetheart! I’m Angie.”

Damian blushes violently as he’s cooed over by Angie. Barry hauls her off to get a good look at him.

“I like this,” he says. “It’s like a mini me.”

“Just don’t break him,” Emma pleads. “Damian, can I trust you to babysit for a while?”

That prompts a, ‘Hey!’ from all four adults, and an eager nod from Damian. “I can show them around town.”

“This is not a town, darling,” Dee Dee says gently. “But what is there to see?”

“We have… uh-“

“There’s an IHOP!” Cady chirps. “And the mall. That’s kind of it until you get to Chicago. Or the lake.”

“This is the most precious soul,” Barry says happily.

“Dame, we did it. I never thought I’d see the day we found someone gayer than you,” Janis laughs.

“Oh, I like this one too,” Barry says. “Funky little lesbian. She dresses like Emma but goth.”

“I do love the hair,” Emma agrees. “I’m dressed more like Cady today though.”

They both look down at their almost-matching flannels and jean shorts, then back at each other with a nod.

“Same boots though,” Janis cheers, lifting a foot. Emma laughs and nudges it with one of her own doc martens. “Nice.”

“Precious,” Angie says. “Okay, we’ll leave you gals alone now. Damian, show us the sights.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Damian says, leading the adults to the door.

“Yes, show us to the… hopping eyes,” Dee Dee says, sounding both bored and intrigued at the same time. Damian waves goodbye to Janis excitedly and closes the door after him.

“Well,” Emma chuckles. “Oh, I hope he’ll be okay.”

“I think he’ll be fine,” Alyssa soothes. “He’s in good company, and he’s a theatre kid, he gets their… vibes.”

“Theatre kid is an understatement for that boy,” Janis tuts affectionately.

“True,” Cady giggles. “Anyway, we can hang out in my room, if you want?”

Emma and Alyssa nod, so Cady leads everyone up to her bedroom. Janis flops onto the bed and Cady crawls in behind her, lifting her head onto her lap. Alyssa and Emma look around curiously for a second before joining them.

“Who did these?” Alyssa asks, pointing to the paintings and collages adorning the walls. “They’re incredible, especially this one. It looks just like you guys!”

Janis flushes as she points to the one she won her art contest with, of she and Damian and Cady all together. “I did.”

“Dang,” Emma breathes. “You have some serious talent, Janis.”

“Thanks,” Janis squeaks.

“No, seriously! Do you have stuff here?” Emma insists.

“A few things, yeah,” Janis says confusedly, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

Emma lifts her guitar case onto the bed and flicks the latches open, pulling out her famous instrument. It’s covered in stickers and little doodles, much like Janis’ jackets.

“Will you do something on this for me?”

Janis’ eyes go wide. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course!” Emma chuckles. “There’s room down here if you want it visible, or on the back.”

Janis carefully takes the instrument and assesses the material, trying to put an idea together in her mind. She runs to Cady’s desk when one comes to her, where she keeps a supply of basic colors and brushes in case of emergency. Cady doesn’t mind keeping them, they remind her of her girlfriend.

Cady grins affectionately as Emma and Alyssa cuddle in together. “How did you two meet?”

Her cousin turns to smile at her girlfriend. “I kind of always knew of her from school and stuff, but we didn’t really get close until sophomore year.”

Alyssa nods in agreement. “My mom wanted me to be more creative and have another skill or whatever, so she signed me up for guitar classes. Just so happens she was my teacher.”

“You really sucked,” Emma teases. Alyssa scoffs, aghast, and shoves her so hard she nearly falls off the bed. “Ack! Hey, I was kidding!”

“I know,” Alyssa giggles. “I did suck, I’ve never been much good at artsy stuff.”

“I was never good at art either,” Cady chuckles at their antics. “Jay’s tried to teach me to paint a couple times and it hasn’t gone too well.”

She peeks around the other couple to where her own girlfriend is sitting cross-legged on the ground, tongue poked out to the side as she carefully brushes a stroke of paint onto Emma’s guitar. Janis looks up when she feels her gaze, and grins happily when she sees Cady.

“You have the right instincts, I keep telling you,” she says. “You just get cranky too fast and then start attacking me with it.”

Everyone else bursts out laughing. Emma says, “I don’t blame her, I hated art class. What were we talking about?”

“How we met, dummy,” Alyssa huffs, kissing behind Emma’s ear.

“Oh yeah! So, we started off with actual lessons, but then we started getting to know each other more,” Emma explains. “And then I came out and got kicked out, which… a lot of people heard about, so Lyss figured I was a safe person to tell that she was questioning.”

Cady nods, listening intently to the story.

“I came out to her that summer,” Alyssa says. “And she said she’d had a crush on me all along, and asked me out. So we went on a walk and then got coffee and the rest is history.”

“We forgot to mention the serious gay panic I had during our first lesson,” Emma chuckles. “But that’s the gist of it.”

“How cute,” Cady coos.

“What about you two, how long have you been together?” Alyssa asks kindly, flicking Emma’s ear gently as she aggressively plops down onto her lap.

“Four months,” Janis pipes up immediately.

“Man, you crushed on her for that long without saying anything, Cades?” Emma says, impressed. Janis pops her head up and listens in.

“Oh?”

“She never shut up about you for, like, almost a year,” Emma laughs. Cady flushes scarlet and looks down at her lap with a flustered squeak. “I’m assuming it was you, she never gave a name. But it was always a tall, hot artist with cool hair and nice muscles. And I think she mentioned your butt a few times, she thinks that’s cute.”

Janis cackles as Cady flops facedown onto her bed and groans into a pillow. “How cute, I didn’t know that. But I shouldn’t laugh, I definitely wasn’t any better.”

“How did you get together?” Alyssa asks, patting Cady’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. Janis snorts from the ground and Cady gives another groan into her pillow. “What?”

“You tell them,” Cady grumbles, poking her face out just long enough that it’s not muffled.

“Baby, it’s cute,” Janis coos.

“No it’s not!”

“Okay, fine, I’ll tell it in a way that makes me look just as dorky,” Janis compromises. “Caddy came to my school in September from Kenya, and she had these adorable little cargo shorts and socks with sandals on, and-“

“Hold on, what?” Alyssa insists. “Kenya?”

“Cady grew up there, her parents are zoologists,” Emma explains.

“How many conversations have we had with her? And you never thought to tell me she’s from Africa?”

“It never came up! We both had a lot going on the first year and then we just didn’t bring it up,” Emma defends. “And now you know.”

“Sorry,” Alyssa says. “Keep going.”

“It’s all good,” Janis chuckles. “Anyway, I fell for her so bad the first day that I dragged Damian into the bathroom at lunch and made him let her join our group.”

Cady pops her head up and looks to her girlfriend. “You did?”

“Yeah, duh,” Janis says. “We’re not known for socializing with the new kids, I just thought you were cute.”

Cady blushes again, but doesn’t return to her pillow. “Keep going.”

Janis chuckles and continues telling the story as she finishes her small painting on Emma’s guitar. “So we became friends that day, and then had… an ordeal, through the rest of junior year and didn’t really reconnect until spring.”

Cady’s told Emma and Alyssa the whole story, so they both nod at Janis’ quick explanation.

“We got really close over the summer, and apparently we were both crushing on each other. But we didn’t notice, somehow. And then I sorta snapped on her birthday this year and decided to fess up, so I made that,” Janis points to the black and white collage hanging next to one of her paintings on the wall. “But before I could give it to her, this little firecracker got wasted and started crying in my lap about how much she loved me.”

“I wasn’t that drunk!” Cady huffs.

“I found you lying on the ground singing yourself to sleep,” Janis giggles. “And you didn’t recognize me, clearly. Just climbed into my lap and spilled your guts. I was lucky it wasn’t literal.”

“Janis Sarkisian,” Cady grumbles. “Behave.”

“Fine, fine,” Janis chuckles. “Anyway, once she sobered up a little bit we had a chat and realized we both had feelings for each other, so we started dating. And now we’re here.”

“That did not make you sound anywhere near as dorky as me,” Cady huffs. “But yeah, that’s… that’s it.”

Emma snorts once the story is done. “That does sound like Cady. But if that’s what it took, then I guess it was worth it.”

Cady turns to look at Janis again. “It was. But you guys went through a lot more than us, that must have been tough on both of you.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Emma chuckles, trying to sneak a peek at Janis’ work. The angle isn’t quite right, so she gives up before she falls off her girlfriend. “You guys went through a lot. But yeah, it was really tough. I’m so lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Alyssa murmurs back. “You guys know the story?”

“I do,” Cady says. “I think Jay and Damian just know the bare bones. It’s your story to tell, I didn’t want to give too many details away.”

Alyssa gives her a grateful smile, and Cady grins back. “Do you want to hear it?”

“Of course,” Janis pipes up. “I finished, by the way. Um, here.”

“Hey, you stole my idea!” Cady jokingly whines when she sees what Janis has done.

“But it’s so perfect!” Janis defends. Emma takes her guitar to see, and smiles at the new lion with a rainbow mane in the spot they’d picked. “And it’s kind of for both of us.”

“This is awesome,” Emma says. “Oh! I get it, it’s a pride thing! Pride of lions, and then… oh. Clever!”

“It was actually Caddy’s idea, she made me a rock with it at pride last week,” Janis says. “I thought it fit.”

“It does, you’re really talented!” Alyssa says, leaning over her girlfriend’s shoulder to see it. Janis’ text tone goes off, so she pulls her phone out of the pocket of her shorts to check it. Cady peeks over to see what it is too as Janis bursts out laughing. It’s a picture of Damian surrounded by his new friends, now in a matching tracksuit all of his own.

jamian: Sent a picture: JAN LOOKIT

danis: nice outfit

jamian: Thank u it really suits me doesnt it

danis: honestly

danis: yeah kinda

jamian: Sent a picture: Thank u

jamian: Anyway we’re going to ihop next yall should meet us there

danis: kk love u

jamian: Love u too

“I think your little crew adopted Damian,” Janis chuckles at Emma and Alyssa, showing them the photo of a very excited Damian.

“Aww,” Emma chuckles. “I’m glad they didn’t kill him, they can be a lot to handle.”

“He seems fine,” Janis shrugs. “Whose truck are we taking?”

“Oh, is that one in the driveway yours?” Emma says excitedly. Janis nods. “It’s nice!”

“We’ve been in Em’s all day,” Alyssa chuckles. “Probably best to take yours.”

“I call shotgun!” Cady yells, already tugging on her shoes and running downstairs.

“As if I’d let anyone else,” Janis mumbles affectionately under her breath.

————-

The waitstaff at IHOP look more than a little frightened at the size of their group, and especially at the crew in tracksuits.

“Ey, yo!” One of them calls. “Guys, come here! It’s that guy from the thing! That show!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Trent grumbles under his breath. “Why is it always that? I played Hamlet!”

They’re quickly escorted to a large table near the back, and Trent signs a few menus as a little gift to the now very excited waiters.

“Was Juilliard worth it?” He mutters to himself. Angie, who’s sat next to him, nudges him with an elbow to shut him up.

Janis and Emma both order for their girlfriends, and also order themselves the same meal of chicken and waffles. Dee Dee gets french toast, Angie gets an omelet, Trent gets some crepes, and Barry gets the most horrifically sweet looking pancakes anyone’s ever seen. Apparently they’re cupcake flavored.

Alyssa looks very content with her large Belgian waffle, and Cady seems delighted with her chocolate chip pancakes decorated with whipped cream to look like a face. It’s definitely from the children’s menu, but nobody says anything.

“So tell us about you guys,” Dee Dee says once their food gets delivered. She looks eagerly to her friends, as if to say, ‘Look how nice I can be when I want to.’ Barry claps quietly for her.

“What do you want to know?” Damian asks. Dee Dee puts her head in her hands, clearly not knowing how to continue. Trent takes over for her.

“How do you guys know each other?”

“Oh!” Damian says excitedly. “Janis and I have been friends, like, forever. We met in tap dance class when we were three.”

“And you knocked my fucking teeth out in that class when we were five,” Janis grumbles.

“By accident!” Damian defends amidst the giggles of their whole group. “I got really into it. Anyway, so we’ve been friends forever. And then little Caddy happened along in junior year, and we kind of kidnapped her for a while.”

“No, I needed to be kidnapped,” Cady laughs. “I was a total wreck. They actually sort of rescued me from the school bathroom at lunch.”

“You were eating in the bathroom?” Barry asks, sounding both empathetic and disgusted. “Oh, you poor sweet thing.”

“I was the new kid, y’know?” Cady shrugs. “Nobody wanted to eat with the dork from Africa.”

Angie chokes on a bite of her food, and Trent thumps her on the back. “From what now?”

“I’m from Kenya,” Cady giggles. “Well, technically I was born in Oregon. But I lived in Kenya for thirteen years.”

“Just, like, in the wilderness?” Barry asks in shock. “With the lions and tigers and… bears and stuff?”

Cady laughs out loud. “Pretty much. But there’s no tigers or bears.”

“But there were lions?” Trent insists.

“Oh, yeah,” Cady says like it’s entirely normal. “That’s mostly what we were studying. They were kind of my only friends.”

“And they never showed any interest in… consuming you?” Dee Dee asks worriedly. Cady laughs again.

“Lions are just big cats, you know, guys? As long as you’re careful and respect their boundaries they won’t hurt you,” she chuckles. “I got swiped at a few times when I was little, but I never needed more than fifteen stitches.”

“Fifteen?” Angie yelps.

“That is kind of a lot, Cades,” Emma chuckles. “I never had to get more than three as a kid.”

“Oh. Well, I was kind of asking for it, I was playing too rough,” Cady hums.

“With a lion,” Alyssa insists. “Do you have pictures?” Cady nods and passes over her phone for them to scroll through her camera roll.

“Anyway, please keep going,” Angie says, leaning across the table to try to see.

“That’s basically it,” Janis shrugs. “Until you get into the whole mess that happened junior year.”

Cady and Damian nod in agreement. The adults all look very excited at the prospect of some new drama. “Do tell.”

The art freaks all look to one another warily, wondering who should begin. Cady decides to after a second of back and forth.

“Well, um… I sat with these two on my first day,” she begins. “But then just before lunch ended I met these three girls. We called them the Plastics.”

“Why?” Angie asks curiously. Damian shows them all a photo. “Oh. I already don’t like this one.” Janis snorts quietly as she points to Regina.

“Anyway, they said I should sit with them, and Janis and Damian wanted me to so I could spy on them,” Cady says sheepishly. “They have some… personal history.”

“Oh?” Trent asks. Cady looks to Janis, this bit is her story to tell.

“Regina, the one in the middle, outed me in eighth grade,” Janis says. “Carved slurs into my locker, that kinda thing.”

“Oh, honey,” Barry says sadly. “That bitch.”

Janis chuckles weakly. “Yeah. The other two just kind of went along with it. They were just generally bitchy to everyone. But I didn’t have many friends because of her, and I went through a lot of counseling and stuff because of it. Spent some time in the hospital for… reasons, but that’s not… something we need to discuss right now.”

Everyone nods, respecting her privacy. Cady continues telling the story. “So, I pretended to join them and would kind of report back to Janis and Damian. I learned that they had this book, called the Burn Book, where they would write mean things about people from the yearbook and stuff. And at the same time I was crushing for a long time on this boy named Aaron, but he was Regina’s ex. She had dumped him earlier for another guy. And she was actually cheating on him with the other one.”

“Oh, can I tell this bit?” Janis asks. Cady nods and gestures for her to keep going. “So, around Halloween, Cady went to Aaron’s party, and I don’t know exactly what happened, but he basically got back together with Regina.”

“What kind of idiot-“ Trent begins, getting cut off by a stomp on the foot from Dee Dee.

“So poor Caddy came to my house,” Janis says, trying to keep down giggles at the memory. “Fucking slams my basement door open, but Dame and I were watching horror movies. Caddy was dressed as some corpse bride with a knife in her back and everything, and Damian screamed so loud, like, higher than I’ve ever heard. But she was crying, so we helped her and then came up with a revenge plot.”

Dee Dee suddenly looks very interested, leaning forwards slightly and resting her head on her folded hands.

“Caddy had these snack bars from Kenya, they’re… Swedish, I think?” Damian says. Cady nods. “They make you gain weight, like, really quickly. Regina was kind of obsessed with her weight and image and stuff, so we got Caddy to tell her they were actually a diet bar to help lose weight.”

“No,” Angie gasps. Everyone laughs at her reaction.

“Yeah,” Cady laughs. “I don’t think anything major happened until around Christmas. The Plastics did this dance every year at the winter talent show, and we had to wear these skimpy little Santa outfits. But Regina had already gained a fair bit of weight, so her skirt didn’t fit…”

“It fell off in the middle of the routine in front of everyone,” Janis cackles. Emma and Alyssa both look slightly scared of her. “Sorry. Personal vindication. But yeah, that was kind of the beginning of the end for her. Cady kind of… got lost in it, by that point. It was hard to tell if she was pretending or not.”

Cady looks down at her lap in shame, so Janis takes her hand under the table and kisses the side of her head a few times to comfort her. Damian keeps going with the story.

“So, Caddy basically overthrew Regina as Queen Bee of the school. She threw a little party and didn’t invite us or Regina, so she kind of was attacking both fronts. We got pretty mad and stopped associating with her, and Regina was obviously furious,” he says. “And so as revenge for that, Regina photocopied the Burn Book and spread all the pages around the school. I saw, like, seven fights before first period even started that day.”

“But didn’t they know that she had written it?” Trent asks.

“That’s the thing, she put herself in it,” Janis adds, now holding Cady on her lap. “So nobody suspected her. She went to the principal and blamed Gretchen and Karen, they’re the other two, and Cady.”

“I don’t like this story,” Barry whines. “Tell me something good happens.”

“Oh, just wait,” Janis chuckles darkly. “There was an assembly called that day, and they tried to make us apologize to each other and do trust exercises or something like that. I kind of went rogue and only apologized to myself and rallied the rest of the girls in our grade.”

“Go Janis,” Angie says, sounding impressed. “Stick it to the man.”

“Thanks,” Janis laughs. “But it only lasted a few minutes.”

“Damn it,” Barry groans. “What happened?”

“Regina got hit by a bus,” Cady says. Angie spits her mouthful of lemonade over Trent.

“She what?”

“Yeah,” Cady laughs. “So, that time kind of sucked for both of us. She was in the hospital recovering, and everyone was saying that I pushed her in front of it or that she jumped in front of it on purpose because of me.”

“She didn’t die?” Dee Dee clarifies. Everyone is more than a little concerned at the disappointment in her voice.

“No,” Cady chuckles. “Well, she died for, like, fifteen seconds, but she was resuscitated and she’s fine now.”

“And did you push her?” Barry asks. “We’re all friends here, you can tell us.”

“No!” Cady huffs. “I may have been a raging bitch, but I’m not an attempted murderer.”

“You didn’t feed anyone to a lion back in Kenya?” Janis teases gently.

“I’ll do it to you if you’re not careful,” Cady retaliates with a laugh. “Where did we leave off?”

“Regina got hit by a bus and you didn’t push her,” Trent says helpfully, still dabbing some lemonade out of his sweater with a wad of napkins.

“Oh,” Damian says. “Okay, so, I don’t… totally remember what happened in between that and Spring Fling, but it’s really not important.”

“I was suspended for the Book, that’s kind of it,” Cady says, gesturing for him to continue.

“Oh, yeah! Anyway, Spring Fling at our school is basically prom but for underclassmen, prom is just for the seniors. Jan and I were each other’s dates, she decorated our outfits and stuff, we looked killer if I do say so myself.”

Janis rolls her eyes lovingly and whacks him with an elbow.

“And Caddy was banned, so she wasn’t supposed to be there, but she showed up towards the end with the Mathletes,” Damian continues. “And she had been nominated for queen, and she won. So she went up on stage and gave the most beautiful speech I’ve ever heard and broke her crown, and we all got a piece. So now we’re all friends and life is good.”

“Nice ending, Dame,” Janis laughs. “Hasty conclusions. But that it is basically how it happened.”

Everyone blinks at them. Trent says, “That was like being in a war zone. Just one bombshell after another.”

“It kinda was, our math teacher got stabbed in the leg at one point,” Cady hums. “Anyway, what’s your guys’ story? If you want to share.”

“Oh, yeah, I’d like to know more,” Damian says. “Jan and I really only know the bare bones. What was in the news, and stuff.”

“You guys can start,” Emma says, pulling a face as Alyssa gently dabs some syrup off her lip. Alyssa giggles when Emma tries to bite her hand and kisses Emma’s cheek.

“Ooh, okay!” Barry says eagerly. “We were in a show. Well, Dee Dee and I. We were in a delightful little show called Eleanor.”

“As in…” Janis says confusedly.

“Eleanor Roosevelt,” Dee Dee explains. She seems surprised when the kids all nod in understanding. “You’ve heard of her?”

“Yeah?” Cady says, tilting her head. “She’s one of the most famous first ladies of all time, we learned about her in our history class.”

“Not nearly enough,” Janis grumbles. “Gotta make time for the men.”

“Amen sister,” Angie huffs.

“Really…” Dee Dee hums interestedly. “Anyway, it was… not a success. Poor advance sales, and then…”

“We bombed opening night,” Barry grumbles. “Apparently. But it wasn’t the show, it was… it was us. The media panned us as aging narcissists and we had to close.”

“On opening night?” Damian gasps in horror. Dee Dee and Barry both nod sadly.

“Regretfully, yes. So, we had to try to change the narrative,” Dee Dee says. “We decided to find a good cause and do something. So we were going to build houses for Habitat for Humanity.”

“But Barry has a bad back,” Trent pipes up. “So then we thought about, like, recycling or fixing poverty or world hunger.”

“But that was all too much for us to handle,” Angie says. “So I went on Twitter and found-”

“Me!” Emma says. “Apparently that all happened on the same night as the first assembly where the PTA cancelled prom in the first place. I guess we were trending.”

“And they only cancelled it because you two wanted to go together?” Janis asks sadly.

“Yep. Well, nobody knew about Alyssa, but they cancelled it because they knew I wanted to bring my girlfriend,” Emma explains.

“Those bitches,” Janis grumbles. “Sorry.”

“Believe me, we get it,” Emma laughs. “But my bit of the story isn’t quite here yet.”

“Oh, yes!” Dee Dee realizes. “So, we decided to help Emma, but we were completely out of funds and had no way to get all the way to Indiana from New York.”

“But I had just booked a non-equity tour of Godspell,” Trent half-brags. The other half seems rather depressed at that statement. “So we came on the tour bus.”

“Can I start our part?” Alyssa asks. Emma nods and squeezes her hand under the table. “So, they obviously gave no indication that they were coming. Emma and Principal Hawkins had gone to the State’s Attorney by that point and put some legal pressure on the PTA, so we had another assembly to discuss options.”

“We?” Damian asks.

“Oh, my mom was the head of the PTA,” Alyssa says casually. Damian chokes on his drink and Janis nearly drops Cady on the ground.

“Your mom cancelled your prom?” Janis asks in shock. Alyssa nods sadly. “Oh, because you… she didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“It was what it was. She knows now,” Alyssa hums. “Anyway, I was there to speak for student council. I was mid-sentence, and then they come barreling into the gym with signs and yelling at everyone.”

“Educating everyone,” Barry corrects. “Loudly and with signs.”

“Right, educating. Sorry,” Alyssa laughs. “So my mom totally loses her shit. It’s chaos. I think Trent had a cowbell at some point?”

Trent reaches into a messenger bag next to him and pulls out a cowbell, resting it on the table with a quiet thunk.

“You just keep that with you?” Janis chuckles.

“For emergencies,” Trent explains. “You’d be surprised.”

Janis tries to think of what emergencies she’s faced that would either be helped or solved with the addition of a cowbell, and surprisingly, she can think of a few.

“Of course he keeps it all the time,” Emma chuckles. “I don’t remember… most of what happened that time. But after a few days they announced that the prom was back on.”

“Because of you?” Damian asks, looking to the stars.

“No,” they all say at the same time Emma says, “I think so.”

Everyone looks her way. “I told you this at the time, but you guys really scared people! I think you at least had a part.”

“How sweet,” Dee Dee says. “Let’s say we had an ensemble part in getting it back on.”

That gets a chuckle from everyone at the table, before Barry continues with the story.

“I, obviously, had to take Emma shopping,” he says. “She only had one dress and it was… a travesty would be an understatement.”

“I’m honestly not sure where it came from,” Emma chuckles. “Just think Little House on the Prarie but somehow so much worse.”

“So we went to the mall, and found this lovely blue dress and some good shoes,” Barry says. Emma looks like she would disagree with his choice of adjectives, but nods. “Did her hair and makeup all fancy, and bought her a corsage.”

“Aww,” Cady coos. “How sweet.”

“That part was fun,” Emma agrees fondly. “But…”

“When we got there,” Barry says. “Poor thing was so excited, but it was-it was just-“

Dee Dee continues for him, as Barry gets too emotional to keep going. “It was totally empty. Barry took Emma into the gym, and it was just horrific. There were barely any decorations, and they were just thrown up. I would be stunned if they spent more than ten dollars on the whole thing.”

“Oh god,” Damian says sadly. “I heard it was a fake, but I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“It sucked,” Emma chuckles sardonically, trying not to get too heavy in the middle of an IHOP. “More than anything. I didn’t care about the decorations, I just… it was so lonely, you know? I realized then that so many people I thought cared about me just didn’t. So many people I thought were my friends, weren’t. I had never felt more alone.”

“It sounds awful,” Janis says.

“It was,” Emma mumbles. Alyssa takes her hand under the table and gives it a gentle squeeze. Emma looks up and gives her a sad but grateful grin.

“I was at the… other prom. The real one,” Alyssa continues, seeming ashamed. “I had no idea what they had done, everyone on student council and the PTA hid it from me too. Some of my friends had seen us together and realized I was the ‘secret girlfriend’ and were trying to break us up.”

“Which worked,” Emma admits sadly. “I called her to try to get her to come to my own personal prom so I could at least have her there, but her mom was at the real one with her and she couldn’t leave. And I just sort of… lost it. I hung up and we didn’t talk again for a week.”

“I never blamed you for that,” Alyssa murmurs gently. “You were still trying to process everything and I just added to it.”

“No, you didn’t,” Emma insists. “We can talk more later. Anyway. I ran out, obviously. And Angie actually came after me, which was nice. She just let me cry and didn’t make me do anything. Helped me get my makeup off and stuff. She even slept on my bedroom floor in case I needed something. It was kind of like having a mom there, which I really needed.”

“How fucking old-“ Angie begins, but Trent claps a hand over her mouth. Emma laughs and continues.

“And then the rest of them came by the next day even though I yelled at them,” she says.

“With ice cream!” Barry butts in. “That’s an important detail.”

“Oh yeah, they brought me Häagen Dazs,” Emma laughs. “It was cute. Especially because they thought I wouldn’t know what it was.”

“Can you blame us? You live in the most yeehaw hick town in Indiana,” Trent says. “And that’s saying something.”

“It’s not that bad,” Emma tuts. “Anyway, they brought ice cream and were trying to convince me to do something to bring more attention to what was happening. Dee Dee actually got me on a talk show at one point, but I knew I would never be able to do something like that.”

“You still owe me a house,” Dee Dee grumbles under her breath. “But what she wound up doing was much better anyway.”

“The song?” Damian asks. Emma nods.

“I had it sort of in my head for a while, and I managed to piece it together in about a week,” she replies. “I was terrified, but it was just an overnight thing. I woke up the next day and it already had two million views.”

Alyssa squeezes her hand with a proud smile. “Half of them were me.”

“The other half were Damian,” Janis chuckles. “He made me watch it at lunch one day and we both watched it so many times we knew all the words by the next day.”

“Aww,” Emma says. “You guys are so sweet.”

“We try,” Janis and Damian say at the same time, locking eyes and glaring at each other once they notice. Cady giggles at their antics.

“Anyway,” Emma laughs. “I wasn’t expecting even that many, but people just kept watching, and then I started getting all these comments on it that were so precious. All these other queer kids all over the world sharing their stories too. Eventually it got back to Principal Hawkins and all of them, and they helped figure out how to set up an inclusive prom. And funded it, which was very helpful.”

“Yeah, helpful,” Dee Dee grumbles under her breath.

“Once we saw where the money was going it was so worth it,” Barry says, gently kicking Dee Dee under the table. “It was beautiful.”

“It really was,” Emma agrees. “But god, it took forever to set up.”

“God, yeah,” Alyssa says. “Oh, and we got back together, like, as we were setting everything up, we forgot to mention that.”

“Oh yeah,” Emma says. “Her mom came when she heard what we were doing in the gym because we never got PTA approval-“

“So she was mad,” Alyssa butts in.

“Very mad,” Emma chuckles. “But you came with her and told her to stop talking, which was both hilarious and terrifying. And then you told me you loved me in front of everyone. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.”

“Me either,” Alyssa says quietly.

“Aww,” Cady says, even though she’s heard the whole story before. It’s always a good one to repeat. “How sweet.”

“So after that whole thing we finished setting everything up,” Emma continues, smiling at her girlfriend. “And it was beautiful, even I was impressed.”

“You looked so happy when everyone started showing up,” Alyssa says fondly. “I was so proud of you. I still am. You gave so many people an incredible night they wouldn’t have had without you.”

Emma flushes slightly and looks down at her lap. Alyssa squishes her cheeks in her hand to get her to look back up.

“It really was an incredible night,” she says. “And we finally got to dance together, I think that was my favorite part.”

“That was good,” Alyssa nods. “But you’re a terrible dancer.”

“Hey! Just because I didn’t take dance classes for years,” Emma pouts.

“Oh, hush, I’m joking,” Alyssa says, kissing Emma’s cheek.

“You missed,” Emma continues pouting. Alyssa frowns in confusion and kisses her cheek again, but in a different spot. “You missed.”

Alyssa gives her a chaste kiss on the lips this time, and Emma finally smiles. Alyssa rolls her eyes lovingly. “You’re such a dork, goodness gracious.”

“You guys are almost as cute as Caddy and Janis,” Damian says, trying to snap them out of it and get them to remember the presence of the group.

“Almost?” Alyssa says, her competitive side making a slight appearance. “I think you’re biased.”

“Oh, definitely,” Damian agrees. “We don’t really have any unbiased judges though.”

“True. We’ll say it’s a truce for now,” Alyssa says. “Are we all done? I need to get up for a bit. I’m stuffed.”

“I think so,” Cady says, looking around at all the empty plates around. “We could go to the beach for the sunset, if you guys want. It’s not too far a drive.”

“Ooh, yes please,” Emma says excitedly. The adults play rock paper scissors to work out payment, and Dee Dee grumbles under her breath when she loses.

“Hungry kids. Why are pancakes so expensive?”

————-

“Oh, guys, look!” Damian says, pointing to a window of a thrift shop nearby. “We could go try on dresses!”

“We?” Janis chuckles, carrying Cady on her back. “You gonna get into a ballgown, D?”

“Why not?” Damian asks. “I have the figure for it, shut up.”

“I thought we were going to the beach,” Angie says.

“We can do both,” Barry says, seeming strangely excited. “Wear dresses to the beach.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Cady says eagerly, squeezing her legs together a bit to get Janis to go in, as if she’s riding a pony. “Please?”

“I am not paying,” Dee Dee says immediately. Everyone else nods, that’s only fair.

“Fine, fine. Come along,” Trent says, leading them into the shop as their gaggle of children follow like ducklings.

—-

The employees look a bit concerned as all nine of them parade to the discounted gown section and start looking for ones in their sizes. Damian finds his first, a royal purple gown with a high neck and a slit that would reach about to his knee. He takes it off the rack and heads over to the changing room, rapidly followed by Barry with his silver gown.

“How did-“ Emma stutters. “I guess they knew what they were looking for.”

Angie helps Trent find one that would fit him, an emerald green dress with long sleeves and a nice v-neck collar. He shrugs and follows Barry and Damian. Angie then moves on to find one of her own, and picks out a sleek black dress made of lace and with a shorter skirt, about to the knee. Dee Dee follows with one she seems to have grabbed at random, a nice yellow gown complete with a cape.

Alyssa picks a pink dress with a longer train, since she wore a short dress to both of her real proms and wants to experiment a little. Cady picks a yellow one, with longer sleeves and a bow in the back. The skirt is short, which makes her a little nervous, but she decides to give it a go.

Janis and Emma both look a bit lost, staring aimlessly at the racks and flicking through them weakly.

“Jayjay, try this one,” Cady says, offering a long, red, short-sleeved gown that looks like it would have a rather tight fit. Maybe Cady has some selfish motivations here, but she’ll never admit it. Janis raises a slightly suspicious eyebrow, but takes the dress and hauls her girlfriend off to the changing rooms.

“They all look so itchy,” Emma shudders slightly. Alyssa laughs and takes one of her hands.

“If you got one made of something like this it wouldn’t be too bad,” she says, showing Emma one made of an almost satin-like material. “And it’ll only be a couple hours at most. We’re going to the beach, sand is itchy anyway.”

“True,” Emma agrees with a little nod. “I like this one.”

“So try it,” Alyssa chuckles as Emma grabs an amethyst colored ballgown with a big poofy skirt. “Come on.”

Most of their group is waiting outside the rooms, clad in their ill fitting gowns. Trent’s is a bit too big, Barry’s is missing some sequins, and Angie’s has a small hole in the sleeve, but none of them complain.

Cady and Janis open the curtains to their respective rooms, revealing their dresses to one another. Janis is somehow not tall enough to fill her dress out, which makes her look a bit like Morticia Addams, but she doesn’t mind. Cady’s is almost perfect, but the skirt clings to her legs in an odd way.

“You look nice!” Cady says, gently adjusting Janis’ sleeve as Janis tugs at her collar.

“It’s a bit tight,” Janis says, sounding rather choked.

“I can fix that once we buy it,” Barry says, looking at himself in the mirror. Everyone looks at him in concern. “What? I have a stitch kit, I’ll just cut the collar off it.”

“Oh,” everyone says. Alyssa and Emma exit the changing rooms then, prompting coos from everyone.

“Emmy, you look beautiful!” Alyssa says, pulling her girlfriend into a hug. “The color really suits you.”

“Does it?” Emma says, sarcastically striking a pose. “It feels very… purple.”

“I like purple,” Alyssa hums, adjusting Emma’s skirt.

“You look really nice,” Emma replies, looking at Alyssa’s long dress. Hers is the closest to fitting correctly out of everyone’s.

“Thanks!” Alyssa says, putting her hands on her hips and popping out a knee. Emma laughs and kisses her gently.

“Okay, let’s go!” Angie says happily, having been taking pictures of everyone like a proud mom taking photos for her Facebook. Angie, Trent, and Barry split the cost among them, and they unleash their prom-ready selves onto the public.

—————-

“So you guys just graduated, right?” Alyssa asks, strolling down the shore holding hands with Emma. Cady and Janis are also hand in hand walking next to them.

“Yep!” Cady chirps.

“So you must’ve just had your senior prom too, what was yours like?”

“It was so fun! Damian took me shopping and I had the most beautiful dress,” Cady replies eagerly. “And Janis had a suit to match and it was… she looked… so hot.”

“Ooh,” Emma teases. “Scandalous.”

“Hey,” Cady says. “I’m allowed to think she’s hot.”

“Fair enough,” Emma shrugs.

“What about you guys, how are you handling your post-prom fame?” Janis jokes.

“Pretty well,” Emma chuckles. “Or at least I think we are.”

“You certainly are,” Alyssa murmurs.

“Oh yeah, aren’t you starting a nonprofit or something?” Cady asks.

“Wait, what?” Janis asks.

“I’m trying,” Emma laughs again. “Lyss’ mom is actually helping me. And trying to start a charity looks, like, super good on college applications, so that’s nice.”

“I thought your mom started this whole fiasco,” Janis says confusedly.

“Oh, she did,” Alyssa confirms. “But she’s cool with the gays now. She had a lot of questions and stuff, and she’s still having to work pretty hard at it. Changing opinions and thought patterns that were instilled in you from

childhood is tough. But she’s trying.”

“Yeah, she came to pride with us this year,” Emma says. “It was cute, she had a rainbow pantsuit and everything.”

“Go mom,” Janis chuckles. “I’m glad she turned things around.”

“Me too,” Alyssa murmurs quietly.

“Me three,” Emma says, squeezing her hand.

“So what’s this charity you’re getting going?” Cady asks.

“It’s called the Unruly Hearts Foundation,” Emma explains. “It’s a nonprofit that takes donations and stuff to throw other inclusive events around the country. Create safe spaces. And we also donate a fair bit to LGBTQ+ shelters and stuff, too.”

“That’s awesome,” Janis says. “I’m broke but I’ll donate a bit once I get my commissions business going.”

“Thanks, Janis,” Emma chuckles. “You know, we could use some branding. A logo, stuff for our website. If you’re interest-“

“Yes,” Janis interrupts. “I’m interested. Please.”

“Groovy,” Emma laughs. “I’ll be in touch, get Cady to give you my number.”

“You say groovy too?!” Damian asks eagerly as he makes an appearance. “These two always make fun of me for it.”

“Hell yeah I say groovy,” Emma says, giving Damian a fist bump. “Sometimes it’s the only word that fits the vibes, you know?”

“Yes!” Damian says. “See? Emma gets it.”

“I think ‘tits’ is pretty versatile,” Janis says. “You kind of look like Ursula, by the way, Dame.”

“Thanks,” Damian says, swishing his purple skirt around. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”

“It was,” Janis huffs. “As if I’d ever insult you.”

“You called me a ‘fucking deplorable kneecap’ on the way here,” Damian retaliates. Emma and Alyssa rode separately and burst out laughing.

“And now I have grown as a person. Developed myself.”

“It was ten minutes ago!”

“And? I’m not the same me I was two minutes ago, let alone ten,” Janis defends.

“Thank god,” Damian grumbles jokingly.

“Hey!” Janis says, breaking away from Cady and running after him. Damian shrieks and holds up his skirts to run away.

“Do we need to intervene here, Cades?” Emma asks with a slight chuckle as Damian and Janis sprint up and down the shoreline in a sort of oval.

“Nah,” Cady shrugs. “They do stuff like this about once a week. Janis knows she needs him, she won’t actually do anything.”

Just as she says that, Damian takes a hard left and runs full tilt into the lake. Janis pauses for a second before shrugging and running after him.

“Or maybe she will.”

“That water must be cold,” Alyssa chuckles in concern.

“Let’s find out!” Emma says boldly, tightening her grip on Alyssa’s hand and running them towards the water as well. Alyssa shrieks as they leap into the lake with a splash. Cady realizes she’s alone and also runs in, managing a cannonball into the water.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Barry yells, walking up on a sort of puddle of teenagers in soaking wet dresses.

“They’re being kids, let them live,” Dee Dee says. “Unrelated, can you swim?”

“Yeah, wh- don’t you dare,” Barry says, turning to face her.

“Oh, I would never,” Dee Dee says, aghast at the mere suggestion. Trent then comes sprinting up and tackles Barry into the lake. “But he would.”

Angie cackles and high fives her. Dee Dee crosses her arms over her chest and smiles down as Barry pops back up with a splutter.

“Dee Dee Allen!” Barry demands. “Get your ass in here.”

“No, I don’t think I will, thank you,” Dee Dee says casually, rocking slightly on the balls of her feet.

“Oh come on,” Angie coaxes. “It’s only fair.”

“I didn’t push him!”

“You had a role.”

Dee Dee ponders this for a moment before she begrudgingly reaches to take Angie’s hand, and they leap in together.

“Yay!” Emma cheers, delighted that all her friends made it into the lake one way or another. Some of them are significantly less happy about this, but everyone is laughing eventually.

“Hey, Caddy,” Janis says. She swims over to her girlfriend and kisses her gently, before booping her nose. “Tag. You’re it.”

Cady laughs as Janis swims away as fast as she can, rapidly followed by the rest of the group. Cady swims around for a second while she ponders her options to decide who to go after. Emma is a strong swimmer, being on her high school swim team and all. Alyssa is okay, but a bit weaker.

Barry seems to be the slowest, and gives her the best chance of success. He looks very anxious as Cady stares him down before lunging for him. He shrieks as Cady manages to snag his skirt and tap his arm under the water before she backstrokes away.

“Damn it,” he puffs. “I’m having elementary school flashbacks.”

“Better than middle school flashbacks,” Angie calls.

“Amen,” Janis says. She screams as Barry goes for her and swims away, huddling behind Damian for protection.

“Hey!” Damian whines, swimming away from her and creating a sort of three-way chase. Janis quickly gives up on Damian’s protection and swims to Cady instead.

“Protect me,” she pleads. Cady smiles as Janis hides behind her, peeking over her shoulder to check where the threat is.

“You’re so cute.”

“No I’m not,” Janis pouts. “I’m being stealthy.”

“Uhhuh,” Cady says as Janis clings to her like a precious little octopus. “If you get me tagged again I’m breaking up with you.”

“That’s fair,” Janis agrees with a shrug. Alyssa suddenly gives a shriek as Barry taps her leg under the water. “Uh oh.”

————-

After an hour or so of tag, the sun begins to set for the day. The water temperature plummets and everyone swims to shore to watch the sky be painted beautiful shades of pink and orange and purple. The adults and Damian head back to the car to go hunt for towels and dry clothes somewhere.

But Cady, Janis, Emma and Alyssa stay behind, deciding they don’t mind so much if they’re in heavy, cold dresses and getting covered in itchy sand. Cady holds Janis on her lap and Alyssa has Emma in hers, all of them staring out over the expanse of the water before them together.

“You guys should visit more often,” Cady says quietly as the first stars begin to make an appearance.

“Absolutely,” Alyssa says, looking down at her girlfriend. “This was an awesome day.”

“And we’ll have more,” Emma says.

Together.

—-

thank you so much for reading! hope you enjoyed!

lots of love,

ezzy

[ssadumba55]

First Choice (Ian Malcolm X Reader)

Request: Hi! Could i maybe leave a reuest for the future with ian malcolm x reader? I was thinking something taking place in jurassic park the lost world. Ian leaving for the island and nnot telling the reader why, so she gies after him and notices that hes dating sarah harding too? I mean, ian malcolm was known for being a ladies man.

A/N: This turned out way angstier than I wanted it to be but I think it was good practice for angst, so thanks for the request! I might be willing to tack on a part two someday! Enjoy!

You were such an idiot. As soon as you got off this damn island (if you did), you were going to swear off men forever. Of course, this was just the type of thing that would happen to you.

A few days earlier, your boyfriend Ian Malcolm had stopped returning your calls and hadn’t let you know where he was going. You knocked on his door, but there was no answer. It was lucky for you that Kelly Malcolm knew exactly what was going on and you bumped into her as she was leaving the apartment.

“He’s going out of town for a bit, I’m about to meet up with him, you should come with me,” she insisted, so you did. But he was too busy with getting everything set up for his research excursion, he hadn’t even realized you’d showed up. You tried asking the others where they were going but trying to talk to a bunch of busy researchers was like trying to talk to a brick wall.

Of course, there was no way you and Kelly were staying behind. You hid in the big research station together, all the way to the island. The first of many bad decisions and regrets you’d made this week.

Now you were stranded on some dinosaur infested island, you’d ditched Ian as soon as he’d come back to camp. At his side, Dr. Sarah Harding. It was clear the two were more than just partners on this research project. You kicked a stone as you walked, blood boiling at the memory. Of course you were being played, how did it take this long for you to figure that out?

Long business trips, constantly busy, not staying after long nights spent together… Those were obvious signs of cheating. How could you not see it coming sooner? There was no way he’d choose you over her. Sarah was everything you believed you weren’t, strong, smart, brave, independent.

The two of them will make a great pair, you thought bitterly, freezing as you heard the sound of rustling near by. After a moment, you decided it must’ve been a breeze and continued. There was no way you were getting off this island now, you had no idea where Ian and his crew were. You were pretty sure you’ve been walking in circles actually.

You leaned against a tree and breathed out a sigh, walking hurt, especially with an injured leg. Of course, almost immediately after you’d stormed off, you’d tripped and hurt yourself. Why wouldn’t you? Everything else this week was going perfect, wasn’t it?

You slid down the tree, sitting at the base and leaning your head back. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, just days ago you’d been fine. Had a boyfriend. A job that you were prospering in, life was finally started to look up. After years of uncertainty and self hatred, there was light at the end of the tunnel. Now here you were, about to die in the middle of nowhere. Your body would be eaten by one of these beasts and you’d never be heard from again.

 Ian wouldn’t miss you; your parents would wonder for a while what happened and then move on… There would be no funeral, there would be no body to bury.

“… I wouldn’t be forced to clean up this mess…” A voice in the distance was saying, you lifted your head. There was no way there was anyone else on this godforsaken island, but the sound of someone’s voice after going so long without hearing anyone filled you with hope. You tried to clamber to your feet, hoping the noise was enough to alert whoever it was you were here.

“Ian…” A familiar voice called, you moved toward the sound, but you tripped on a tree root and landed face first in the dirt. Maybe it’s better if I stay here, you thought. Just as you were thinking that though hands grabbed your arms and pulled you up.

“What did you do to your leg?” Ian asked, almost like he was scolding you.

“Nothing,” your voice was scratchy, and you shook him off you, attempting to stand on your own. “I’m fine, see?”

Sarah kneeled to look at your leg anyway. You flinched back slightly, stumbling, and nearly falling over again. Luckily, Ian caught you again.

“We’re taking you back to the camp. You shouldn’t have run off at all,” he began to walk carefully, helping you along and Sarah stood to join.

You laughed weakly, there was something funny about being told off on a dinosaur island by your cheating boyfriend. Still, he was right. You shouldn’t have run off, there was no way you’d be able to survive all on your own.

Everyone else was grateful to see you and Sarah immediately got to work treating your leg.

“If it makes you feel any better, I had no idea either. I definitely wouldn’t have… If I had known…” she muttered as she treated your leg. Something about her words seemed genuine, yet it was hard to believe after everything you’d been through.

She left you alone after that, leaving you to think about what you were going to do now. You rested your head back and closed your eyes, listening to the sound of the others around you. Even though you were still trapped on this island, there was something comforting about having the others around. At least if you died now, it wouldn’t be alone.

“I know I screwed up, big time,” Ian’s voice cut through your musings, he sounded so tired. It had been a tiring past few days hadn’t it?

“You can say that again,” you said softly. He let out a deep breath, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at his face, but you knew he was looking at you concerned.

The two of you sat together in silence.

“Once we get off of this island, I swear I’ll make it up to you,” he mumbled. If you were a crueler person, you would’ve scoffed at his words.

“I know you’re going to choose Sarah, Ian, it’s fine. I understand. She’s a much better match for you anyway, no hard feelings. Just get me off this island and I’ll get out of your hair for good,” you told him, opening your eyes to finally meet his. He looked at you, a mixture of pain and sadness.

His hand gently reached over, running itself through your hair slowly. The two of you said nothing, there was nothing more to be said. Maybe here, for now, you could pretend that you were his first choice. After a few moments, you drifted off to sleep, exhausted after all your walking.

Ian drew the makeshift blanket up to your chin.

There was no fixing what he’d done.

“How are they?” Sarah asked as he walked over to join the others.

He couldn’t speak to her right now, he had to get these people off this island, before it took more than he wanted it to.

If only you knew you’d always been his first choice.

[ultimatebethylficlist]

Veteran Author of The Month: June 2021

The featured veteran author for June is also a co-admin right here at UBFL: SquishyCool (or @im-immortal )!

SquishyCool can be found on AO3 and FFN under the same penname.

When asked what got her into Bethyl and what the fandom means to her, she said:

I’ve been a hardcore TWD fan since the show began airing, but that’s because of my love for zombies. In all honesty, I didn’t really ship anyone for the first 3-4 seasons. I kind of shipped Daryl with Carol, but then it became clear that it was a platonic relationship and in all honesty, I just wanted to see them both get some action lmao. Then the prison fell... and in those first moments of “Still,” when we see Beth and Daryl running and running and finally collapsing on the ground, breathless and exhausted... the butterflies started. Something clicked and I immediately thought, “uh oh.” The rest is history, especially considering how “Still” and “Alone” played out. I can’t explain how or why I’m still so heavily invested, especially considering my last 2 fandoms only kept my attention for about 2-3 years each, but here I am. And I love it! I am so incredibly grateful for the Bethyl fandom because not only has it helped me improve my writing so much more than I ever could have imagined, but it has also introduced me to some of the most amazing people, including someone who I now consider one of my very best friends! It’s my happy place :)

For her personal fic rec list, she recommends:

In The Maw by ronsparkyspeirs

Way Down We Go by LeathernLaces

Surfacing by lindentree

Wild Things (The Moonshine Poet) by Abelina

The Gift by Feliz

The Man Who Can't Be Moved by burningupasun

New Experiences Series by wallflow3r

Whisper Softly to Me by taylorcatherine

Interstice by leftmywingshome

To Love Like a Man by Seraphique

Death, Death (i defy thee) by alamorn

In My Blood by Courtneyshortney82

Let the Good Times Roll by gutsforgarters

Resolved by Allatariel

the weight of these wings by peachthorns

all my spaces are filled with you by annabeth_writes

A Little Jailbreak with the Little Jailbait by wandering_gypsy_feet

between the beginning and the end by sheriffandsteel

SquishyCool’s Works & Personal Thoughts:

Dirty Fingernails and Dried Blood Summary: What happened during the months between "Still" and "Alone"? Beth uses the last pages of her diary to write down every detail of surviving with Daryl. Thoughts: My first Bethyl fanfic. It holds a special place in my heart for that reason, though it is pretty rough. If I could go back, I never would’ve done it entirely in first-person. But I do plan to finish it one day. There are some scenes I’m particularly proud of, and I still have a long note full of ideas and plot points.

Most Wanted Summary: After Beth’s mother and half-brother are murdered in a drug war, the godly veil on the Greene Family operation is lifted, and law enforcement comes down hard. In an effort to protect her family, Beth commits a heinous crime that could mean life in prison alongside them. Now everyone she’s ever trusted is in police custody and her only chance at freedom is to get as far away from Atlanta as she can... Thoughts: Well, this is a must-read if you like my writing. I hope to one day convert this into an original fiction and maybe get it published, but I need to finish it first LOL. I got the idea from ONE scene of “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt,” and from there, it exploded into a huge mystery thriller (with lots of romance and smut). I’m really really proud of it, and I’m scared I’ll fuck it up tbh, so I keep putting off continuing it. But I really need to get back to it because I really want people to see what I have planned! (Also, this fic is the reason @courtneyshortney82​ started talking to me, so that alone is pretty historic lmao)

The Crow’s Song Summary: Beth and Daryl spend a few more days together in the funeral home and come to terms with all they've lost along the way. But soon, they must decide what comes next. Thoughts: This fic... this fucking fic. It took me a full year to write. I made numerous edits. I even got a little depressed while I was writing the last two chapters, and my bf didn’t know why until he read what I’d been writing lol. It’s honestly the Bethyl fic I’ve always wanted to write but just didn’t know how. I’m still really really proud of how it turned out.

Carnival Games Summary: Daryl is a traveling carnival worker and Beth is a barely legal farmer's daughter looking for a night of fun when the carnival comes to town. Thoughts: Omg this fic is so fun!! One of my first Bethyl fics, and one of my first Bethyl smut fics. Short, sweet, a little funny, and a lot hot. I am still impressed with myself on this one, especially considering how much my writing has improved since lol

Breathe. Please. Summary: Beth shows up at the Hilltop. Alive. Daryl can hardly believe his eyes. Until she's lying in his bed, an arm's reach away. And he can hear her inhaling... exhaling... inhaling... Thoughts: Another “fix-it” that I’m proud of. Tbh I didn’t think it was anything all that special, but a lot of readers have said it’s one of their favorites, and some say they reread it regularly, and nothing makes me happier than hearing that, so I am extremely proud.

picking @ scabs Summary: Sometimes, no matter how much you love someone, being with them just isn't right. But what wouldn't you give for it to be right? Can someone like Daryl learn how to swallow his pride and stop repeating the same mistakes over and over? Can someone like Beth learn to fight off her demons and allow him to get close enough to hurt her again? How can they stay away from each other when it's all too easy to fall back into one another? Picking a scab will leave a scar, but they both have so many scars already... what's a few more? Thoughts: This fic is very, very personal for me. It’s like my “therapy” fic. I have poured some of my deepest feelings and struggles into its chapters, and the whole idea that got me to start it was that I wanted to find a way to navigate and cope with ending my 3-year long relationship with my emotionally/mentally/sometimes physically abusive ex. I still have a lot of fond memories from that relationship, but even more so, I have painful memories. Not to mention, going through your early 20s as a woman in the modern day is a fuckin’ trip, so this kind of explores that. It’s really self-indulgent, I think, but I’m really proud of the smut in it. And more than that, I’m proud of the response. I’ve had a few people message me or comment to say that they’ve felt all those things, or have experienced similar things, and it’s really just... relieving. I put my heart and soul out there, and what I got back was “you’re not alone.” So yeah, this fic is special. I wanna finish it soon, but I have to be in A Mood to do so. 

In Toto Corde Summary: Despite a million reasons not to, Beth and Daryl fell in love. Then he made the ultimate sacrifice in order to keep all of his promises. Now, facing unimaginable consequences at the hands of witch hunters, Beth has no choice but to use her powers to bring Daryl back from the dead. "He won't be the same..." Thoughts: I LOVE THIS FIC. I love it so much that I had to rewrite it after like 4 or 5 years. And I already started on a sequel that I really hope I’m able to finish. Though it doesn’t have many hits, and I don’t think many people have read it at all, which I understand since it basically is entirely focused around Daryl being killed. But damn, I’m proud of this one, and it was really fucking fun to write because witch!Beth is just... the best.

risk it all (part 1 of in for a penny, in for a pound) Summary: Daryl Dixon has a pretty decent life, all things considered. He's got his own place. A good dog. A few friends. Even a girlfriend. He keeps himself out of trouble. Until he starts texting Beth Greene. And hell, if he ain't about to risk it all for this damn girl. Thoughts: This was supposed to be one short multichapter fic focused entirely on smut and social media. Then I got on a roll and it ended up being the beginning of a series! This fic is purely fun. Nothing too serious or heavy. I write it when I’m in a Good Mood because it’s my little happy place. I have plans for about 4 more fics before the series will be finished!

Don’t Make Me Haunt You Summary: So here's the thing: Merle Dixon is dead as fuck. And as it turns out, Beth Greene is the only one who can see or hear him. Which is weird considering she's never met or even heard of this guy, let alone anyone with the last name Dixon. That's her first problem... Thoughts: The reception to this fic has absolutely blown me away. I had no idea anyone would want to read about ghost!Merle haunting Beth and forcing her to solve his murder with the help of his grumpy brother. And it was all inspired by an episode of South Park lmao then I started really getting into it and now it’s just like, my super fun fic where I explore a range of emotions and all kinds of religious beliefs and different mythologies and I can build the world however I want and goddamn I just love writing this fic. Plus there’s a podfic for it! I can’t even begin to explain how much I love this fic and how proud I am of it :)

[cherrybracelets]

Star Shopping

spencer reid x reader

word count: 1.6k | warnings: alcohol consumption. other than that, no smut, all fluff

song inspo: star shopping by lil peep (i highly recommend listening to this song before or during reading this fic)

Look at the sky tonight, all of the stars have a reason A reason to shine, a reason like mine and I'm fallin' to pieces

masterlist | requests

Seven hours in the car with Dr. Spencer Reid would be most people's worst nightmare. He spewed nonstop facts about every town you drove by, had an undeniable caffeine addiction that made you stop every ten minutes so he could pee and buy another coffee, and had terrible taste in road trip music. Mozart was not who you would’ve picked to pass the time as you drove up I-95. 

You were accompanying Spencer to Harvard this weekend, to attend a class as guest lecturers from the BAU. They called Dr. Reid personally, and told him to bring one other profiler of his choice. You weren’t exactly sure why he picked you, you weren’t nearly as close as he was with the others. But he swayed you with compliments about how wonderful of a speaker you were, and how the students would be engrossed with my lecturing skills. You couldn’t say no to him, but you were highly regretting it now as he went on about all the fun facts of White Plains, NY. 

“I can’t handle this music anymore, Spence. I feel like I’m at a funeral,” you groaned, staring out the window at the moon, that was now shining high in the sky. 

“Fun fact, the most popular road trip song in the US is On the Road Again by Willie Nelson,” Spencer laughed, excitement pouring out of him as he shared his knowledge. 

“Wonderful, maybe we can listen to that then?” 

“Hmm… no, I don’t like that.” 

You rolled your eyes, and curled into a ball on the passenger seat. You continued to stare out the window, watching the world fly by around you. It was a quiet night, few other cars on the road. It was nearing 11PM, and you were still about two hours away from Boston. Spencer was humming along to the music, staring ahead at the empty road. You watched the way the darkness enveloped him, his features prominent in the low light. 

“Why are you staring at me?” 

“What?” You asked, confused. You had completely zoned out, lost in your own head.

“You were staring right at me!” Spencer laughed, looking over at you and making sure you were okay. He had always thought you were beautiful, especially when you weren’t trying to be. He found himself getting lost in your features, the softness of your lips, the golden aura of radiance surrounding you. 

You weren’t paying much attention to the road, staring at your phone in boredom. A sudden jolt of the car and the loud and undeniable sound of a tire popping. Spencer looked shocked and apologetic, his face scrunched in guilt as he put the car in park on the side of the highway. He turned towards you slowly, as you were trying to gather your words without yelling. 

“Oops,” he whispered, closing his eyes to prepare for your wrath. 

You took a deep breath, calming yourself before speaking. You were known to have a bit of a temper, and you were desperately trying to overcome that personality trait. You looked down at the floor, silently praying to whatever god would listen. 

“Is there a spare tire?” You crossed your fingers, a dumb superstition that you did instinctively. You could tell by the long silence before his response that the answer was no. 

“Listen, I have Triple A. I’ll call them right now!” He promised, assuring you that everything would be fine. 

“We have to be at the college tomorrow morning! We need to get to Boston tonight!” You groaned, putting your face in your hands as you started to feel yourself panic. It was pitch black out, the car was almost out of gas anyways, and it was freezing out. Your stomach turned as you dug your nails into your palms, trying to ground yourself. 

“Okay, I’ll call Hotch and see if he can pull a few strings.” Spencer said quietly, immediately noticing your shift in mood. He stepped out of the car to call Hotch, hoping that a few minutes of silence would calm you down. 

He was right, of course. You felt better after only 60 seconds of quiet, your heart rate slowing down and your breathing returning back to it’s normal pace. You could hear Spencer mumbling faintly on the phone, unable to make out any of his words.

 You looked around and realized the severity of the situation, stranded on an empty road in the middle of the night. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your hand reaching for your gun to make sure it was still in your place. 

“Alright, I have some good news and bad news. What would you like first?” Spencer said awkwardly, avoiding eye contact as he got back in the car. You saw his gun on his hip, making you feel even safer knowing he could protect you, too. 

“Good news, I guess.”

“Hotch is calling a tow truck who will bring us to Boston. They’ll fix the car in the morning and another car will pick us up to bring us to campus.”

“All of that sounds pretty good, what is the bad news?” You groaned, hoping it was something small enough to not cause another panic attack. 

“The tow truck is coming from Boston so… we’re stuck here for about two hours…”

“Oh, god damn it Spence!” You threw your head back on the seat, sighing loudly as you stared up at the ceiling of the car. 

“No worries though, we’ll make it fun. I have a few bottles of wine in the back. They were gifts for the professors but… fuck it.” Spencer got out of the car and walked to the trunk, opening it. He searched through the bags, rummaging around loudly and for what seemed like way too long. Finally he found what he was looking for, zipping up the bags and closing the trunk. 

“Come out here! The stars look amazing!” He opened up your door and you walked out, leaning against the side of the car and staring at the sky. 

“Isn’t it so clear out here?” He asked, opening up a bottle of cheap red wine and taking a swig. He handed you the bottle, and you grabbed it excitedly, downing multiple gulps in hopes that the alcohol would calm you down. 

“It’s pretty beautiful,” you whispered, staring mesmerized into the night sky, each star it’s own shining life force in the otherwise black sky. 

“Look at that, right there,” he whispered, getting close to you and pointing up at an exceptionally large and bright star in the sky. His face was almost touching yours, the warmth of his body drawing you in. 

“What is it?” 

“Venus. Isn’t that cool? A whole planet, right there for us to see.”

“Why does it glow like a star if it’s a planet? Like, stars are on fire, right? So that’s why they glow. Why do planets glow?”

“Ah, well actually, planets are reflecting the light of stars.” Spencer looked down at you, smiling as he shared his knowledge. There was nothing he loved more than somebody actually listening to his facts. 

He continued to point out planets and stars, showing you constellations. The two of you even found a shooting star, the alcohol causing you to giggle as you both made funny wishes. 

“I wish for… bigger boobs,” you giggled, grabbing your breasts and frowning. Spencer took another long swig in wine, shaking the bottle around as he realized it was almost empty. 

“I wish for more wine… and bigger boobs,” he laughed, taking the final swig from the bottle and throwing it on the ground. 

“Jeez, Spence, be careful,” you laughed, stepping away from the shattered glass. You got closer to Spencer, your body clumsily bumping into his as you backed away from the bottle. 

“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, turning around and facing him directly. You were inches from each other, the smell of wine hanging strongly in the air. 

“Hmm…�� he mumbled, tilting his head slightly as he stared down at you. 

“What?” 

“I think you have really nice boobs.” He stared at your cleavage for a few more seconds, before looking back up to your face. He smiled goofily at you, his eyes glossy and cheeks red as the alcohol flushed through him. 

“That is extremely inappropriate, Dr. Reid,” you giggled, his eyes still locked on your chest. 

“Sorry…” he muttered, stumbling awkwardly away from you. 

“No, no, it’s okay. I just didn’t realize you looked at me like that, I guess.” 

“Are you kidding? I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.” 

“You’re joking,” you laughed, shaking your head in amusement, convincing yourself there was no way someone like him could ever be interested in someone like you. 

“I mean, I am a little drunk, but I still know how I feel.” 

“How do you feel, Spencer?” 

“Like I’d like to ask you on a date.” 

“Is this not a date already? I mean, we split a bottle of wine, we’re staring at the stars… seems a little romantic.” You smiled up at Spencer, happiness flooding you as you looked at the way the moonlight reflected in his eyes. 

“Okay, fine. I’d like to ask you on a second date.” 

“Spencer Reid- I would love to go on a second date with you.” 

“But, you know, I kind of have a first date routine, and we haven’t really stuck with it.” 

“Well, what’s in the routine?” 

“This…” he whispered, walking towards you and taking your face in his hands, kissing you passionately under the stars. The sweet taste of Pinot Noir clung to your lips, sloppy drunk kisses and giggles exchanging between you. 

“Oh, I guess now is a good time to tell you the hotel we’re staying at only has one-bed rooms available,” Spencer giggled, getting out his words between kisses. 

“Oh, damn. What are we gonna do about that?”

[najatheangel]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲

now playing: Heartbreak Anniversary by Giveon

genre: Lots of Angst :( + Slight Fluff.

pairing: Choi San x Reader.

authors note: An early valentines present for sad girls who are single this time around. Also a special 300❤️present for my lovelie muffins. Thanks so much for the support and I’ll continue to present more work. This was inspired by the song Heartbreak Anniversary by Giveon. Highly recommend to listen😊✨Alrighty now enjoy love.

💔 💔 💔 ❤️ 💔 💔 💔

San’s POV: Today is the day February 14, 2021. The day that I’ll always remember. It’s the day that I’ve fallen in love with you, but also the day we broke up. I can still remember meeting you like it was yesterday...

“Just like the day I met you, I thought forever.”

I always took rides in my motorcycle around the city of Seoul just enjoying the scenery. The night where I ended hitting a lot hole and had to fill air in my tire at my auto shop business that I’ve taken over ever since my father passed away.

I was in a bad place in my life living alone without my dad being around praying that the love of my life would step forth into my shop. It was like the gods answered my prayers. You were so beautiful with your long wavy hair, chocolate brown eyes, soft baby pink lips and not to forget your sparkling smile.

You were panicking and rambling about how you crashed your brothers car and needed to get it fix as soon as possible. I immediately wanted to come to your rescue and in exchange I asked you out right on the spot. You looked at me like I was insane, but didn’t hesitate to say yes.

My life began to slowly change and I was hoping that it would last forever...

“Said that you love me, but that'll last for never”

We were on the talking phase for 4 months and I wanted to be the first to confess. I’m a man with patience, but I had a feeling someone would take you away from me. It was the day where I’ve saved up my money to take you out to the best restaurant in town with the nicest patio view over the city lights of Seoul.

It was the best night of my life. I got to see your first time trying Jajangmyeon and your face lit up when you took the first bite. We even danced on the patio to our favorite song under the moonlight It was the setting to say it.

We both looked at each other and knew at that very moment we both were going to say it, but you beat me to it. “I love you Choi San. I hope you feel the same way about me.”

Of course I love you way more than you can ever imagine. It just turned out that my love for you was much more stronger.

“It's cold outside, like when you walked out my life”

Our 2nd year anniversary and valentines we spent together turned out to be our last. I remember when things started to turn sour the night after we tied the knot. You’ve started to act more distant making it hard for me to reach out to you. I woke up the next morning and noticed that you and your things that you’ve left in my apartment have suddenly disappeared.

I’ve searched all around the city for you your house, grandmothers house, our favorite spot by the puppy cafe, but you were no where to be found. I was starting to lose my mind not having you around.

I went back home decided to take a break and saw your journal you’ve left behind on the kitchen counter. I was shaking not prepared to read what was inside the journal, but just as I predicted she dumped me, left me in Seoul and found someone that she’s planning to marry in a few months.

She felt cheating with her significant other and decided that it was best to end our friends with benefits relationship.

“I’m so sorry San. I have to fix this marriage it’s too important to me. I’m also sorry for hurting you and involving you in my mess of a love life. Unfortunately I can’t be with you and decided to move back to my hometown. I wanted to thank you for all you have taught me down in Seoul. I need to learn from my mistakes and move on from this...”

I couldn’t even read the rest from that point because I was so angry that she didn’t tell me this in person, hell months before we’ve been talking. At the same time, another part of me was heart broken and wished she didn’t have to leave me in the dark. Nothing hurt worst then when my father passed away when I was young, but this might’ve been top tier.

All night I’ve screamed, hollered, cursed, ripped out pages from your journal, whatever I had to do to get rid of the pain.

“I'm buildin' my hopes up. like presents unopened 'til this day”

At the time I was ready to run up to you ready to hold you, squeeze you and tell the world how much I’ve missed you and couldn’t wait to spend our Valentine’s Day together. The first few months I was holding up fine working in my shop fixing motorcycles and Lamborghini’s all day and night, it started to get harder day after day.

I would try to call you every day sending voice mails begging you to come back home and leave that man to be with me. I would visit your grandmother down here everyday asking about you. I would write letters and songs about you every night to get me through the pain.

I would try to even hook up with other woman and get drunk while doing it so I can imagine making love with you, but the feeling was never the same.

Damn it, don’t you understand how badly you hurt me and left me with this emptiness in my now broken heart.

“On these days that feel like you and me Heartbreak anniversary”

Every February it feels like a funeral. I’ve lost the love of my life, my saving grace, my pretty woman and my best mistake.

I know I can’t be sad forever and that I’m better off trying to find another person, but she still lingers in my head every now and then.

I’ve still kept her journal after all this time and wrote notes, pictures and souvenirs from her. Today I plan on ending this once and for all.

I take one last trip to memory lane looking inside the journal as I travel back in time to the moments I had with her. Of course I’m crying about it again smiling like an idiot.

Do you ever think of me? Cause I still think of you...

I’ve finally closed that chapter in my life and threw her journal in the fire pit burning away my thoughts and memories we had together. This was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life, but now I can finally stand tall and continue on living my life without her.

💔 💔 💔 ❤️ 💔 💔 💔

Thanks so much for reading this much. Let me know what you guys think.🥺❤️✨

[eunjidrabbles]

can i please request forever, bitter version with gahyeon?

Forever Bitter Ver.

How long is forever, when forever means a different thing to everyone? What more is forever to someone who has an eternity to live? Blessing or a curse, may the fates bring us together each time.

Word count: 2.8k words

-

The way the sun sets everyday changes. Gahyeon has watched it everyday ever since she realized the beauty of it at a very young age. She loved the way the colors moved across the skies as a sheet of darkness swallowed the skies and how the stars and moon come out to play. She remembers that one night when she looked out the window and saw the shooting star, did she put her hands together and wished. That she would get to see the sunset everyday forever. It only hit her what her wish meant when she watched her friends aged along with time. How her girlfriend at the time commented on how young she never had wrinkles, how she never looked a day older than when they first met. It was in her mid forties when her fiancée started complaining about the white strands of hair that were growing rapidly that caused Gahyeon to look into the mirror properly. Her skin was clear and glowing, eyes round and soft, lips full, just as she looked in her early twenties, perhaps even better.

“It’s not normal,” Her wife has once said when they went out only to be called a mother and child. “but you’re still you. That’s okay with me.” It was at her wife’s funeral, age fifty where she took a look at the world around her, and how everyone grew older except her. She showed no signs of aging, and that started attracting attention from her spouse’s family. Gahyeon understood that it was the grief talking, but it stung her when they accused her of stealing their lifespan. She had done nothing but gave her heart and entire being to loving her. The guilt however overwhelmed her and so she left, far away from all the confusing memories the place held, bringing only a single photo frame of their wedding day photo. 

Life goes on, and Gahyeon soon realized that she can’t continue to live as Lee Gahyeon, who is legally over eighty years old but remained the look of her in her early twenties. Struggling alone, Gahyeon somehow managed to live her years, moving across the world each time as her collection of photographs got more and more. They were a reminder to her, of each of her “life” she lived, only to remember each time that she would lose everyone in the end, and go back to being alone before having to move across the world again. It was at number 5 when she broke down completely. It wasn’t fair for her, that she lives on forever, but everyone she loved and cared for fall to time’s clutches. With no tears now left to shed, she bitterly took a look at the photograph and packed that into her suitcase.

It was an easy decision for her to make, when she unpacked her stuff into the new apartment. There was a way to stop all the additional pain. She just have to get over the loneliness and live alone. Detach when she feels attached. Easy as that. Anything else goes.

In the three years of living in the city, Gahyeon had got herself a job as a tour guide. The manager of the company was nice enough to not question when Gahyeon requested for her pay to be paid in cash, From Gahyeon’s experience, the lesser the roots in a place the easier it was for her to leave the place when time comes. There was also no way to track her in case there really was someone watching her. As long as she did her job better than the teens in the city that would much rather be spending their time at home playing games or hanging out with their friends, she kept her food bowl. Her promise to herself had been decently easy to keep too, with casual flings with the visitors of the town before they went their separate ways. No one was hurt, and no attachment were formed.

Coughing as her eyes flutter open, Gahyeon forced her eyes open only to shut it immediately as the sunlight shone directly into her eyes. Her throat was dry, probably from all the alcohol last night, Gahyeon thought. It was one of those nights where she craved someone next to her again, but her trip to the bar only ended with her going home very drunk and alone, completely forgetting her shift the next morning until she checked her phone. Rolling out of her bed, Gahyeon quickly gave her face a quick wash and throwing on some clothes grumbling under her breath about how years of drinking still didn’t help her with her alcohol tolerance before she slammed the door shut behind her. 

A glare shot her way was all she needed to know that she was late for her shift. Yanking the band and lanyard off the hook, she rushed her way outside where a small group of people were seated, some talking to one another and others on their phones. Taking a deep breath, Gahyeon pushed the pain of the hangover to the back of her mind as she pulled out her most convincing bright smile she could and greeted the group in hopes her cheerful energy would get them to dismiss the fact she was late. Her tactic worked perfectly seeing as to how the moment she spoke, all eyes were on her and smiles were shared among the group. “My name is Gahyeon and I am your tour guide for these few days! I hope you enjoy your time here!” Giving a quick scan of the room, everyone seemed to be revitalized by her faux energy except a pair of eyes that met hers curiously. Tilting her head and giving another big smile, Gahyeon continued. “Let’s all get on the bus now so I can break down our schedule more, shall we?”

Ushering everyone in, Gahyeon gave a quick headcount before hopping into the bus herself. Nodding to the driver, she took another deep breath before organizing her thoughts of the details needed to be given to the group as the minibus started moving with a jerk. Being thrown off balance, the woman could only have enough time to widen her eyes in shock and put her hands out in front of her to cushion her fall. It’s her fault, she shouldn’t have drank so much to get a hangover and cause the delay in reaction now she is going to make more of a fool of herself in front of everyone and that’ll be the memory she gives the new group of tourists. Instead of the dusty bus carpet, she landed on something soft, and looking up, she was met with your amused face. “If you like me, you could have just said something, you know. You don’t have to literally fall for me.” The entire bus broke into chuckles and Gahyeon sighed in relief that there was no mean comments thrown her way from her own mistake. With support from the bus seats, she stood up and nodded to you in thanks and settled down on her own seat in front of you.

The rest of the tour went on surprisingly smoothly despite the rough start and nearing the end of the day, Gahyeon let out a sigh of relief knowing that the time to rest her throbbing head was nearing. All that was left was dinner with the group and she could send everyone back to the hotel before heading home herself. Making her rounds once the food was served, she checked in on each table, making sure that the food was to everyone’s liking and that the mediocre tasting food didn’t make anyone sick . Finally setting away from the rest at her own table, Gahyeon sighed and started shoveling spoon after spoon of the fried rice in her mouth not realizing that she had forgone her meals for the day and the dinner being her first. Feeling a presence near her was what got her to pause mid bite and pull away, turning around to meet you. With a wave of a hand from you, signaling that she was free to continue eating, you eyed the empty seat next to her and she nodded.

“You weren’t very subtle, you know. I can spot someone with a hangover a mile away.” Gahyeon watched as you pulled out a small box and placed it on the table and pushed it slightly to her. “These should help with it.” Giving her thanks, Gahyeon fidgeted in her seat, not knowing where or how to continue the conversation. The thought that you paid attention to her and noticed what was going on warmed the woman a little and she relaxed and smiled at you once more, you gave a soft chuckle and stood up from the table and returned with a smile of your own. Just taking few steps away from the table, you turned back suddenly and called out to her. “I think you should smile more, and not that fake grin you do. You look really cute when you smile.” Laughing once again as you turned away clearly amused by how a blush was quickly rising to her cheeks, Gahyeon let out a huff in defeat, shook her head at your comment and went back to her meal.

The next few days flew by quickly, and nearing the end of the guided tours, Gahyeon had softened up to the group and gave everyone a hug at the end of the day. It was always interesting to hear all the stories share throughout time. As everyone else pulled away, you stepped forward with a smirk on your face, leading Gahyeon to groan and roll her eyes before coming forward with open arms. Hugging tightly, there was a warmth that made Gahyeon cling onto you. Reluctantly pulling away, you ruffled the woman’s hair affectionately and turned slightly to watch the rest of the group walk away.

“I still have a few days left in the city.” Turning back to Gahyeon, you licked your lips nervously and pulled out your phone. “Even though you’re the local here, can I perhaps take you out?”

Gahyeon knew she probably shouldn’t have agreed. She knew of her promise, and attachments only makes everything harder and more complicated. Yet there was something that complied her to nod. It was scary to Gahyeon. With each date she went on, with each moment she spent with you, she felt herself slowly losing control. She wanted to get closer, and closer to you. She wanted you to be the first and last thing she sees when she sleeps and wakes up. Every thought eventually linked back to you. She wanted you to be the one she spends time with as she sits by the pier as the sun sets everyday. That’s when Gahyeon knew, with a tear rolling down her cheek as she watched the moon slowly rise, that she has fallen for you.

Her phone blew up with messages and calls from you after a missed date. It stung her heart knowing what she was missing but she knew it would hurt more if she allowed for the relationship between both of your to progress. She knew that the further away she kept you from her, the lesser pain the both of you would have to endure. With that thought in her head she left her apartment to head to her workplace to collect her pay for the month. What she didn’t expect was going into the office and to be met with the managers glare yet again as he passed her pay over. “One of our clients has been trying to contact you, they even came all the way here.” Nudging towards the direction of the lounge area, Gahyeon followed the direction to see you seated on the sofa. Knowing that you probably won’t leave until you saw her, she sighed and nodded to her manager, signaling that you will handle it.

Walking out the staff only area, she made sure you saw her and continued her way out the door, successfully pulling you off the seat and following her out the company doors. Once she deemed that you were far enough, she turned around to face you. “Did you seriously ghost me, Gahyeon?” She knew she had to be harsh to you to make you understand. Sighing, she shrugged. “Look, I don’t know how to put this nicely but I had my fun.”

“This isn’t you, Gahyeon. I see how you’ve looked at me. I-”

“How would you know this isn’t how I am? You literally know me for like, a week.”

“I know because I love you! I want us to work so badly that I was already making preparations to move here to be with you!”

Her throat dried up as you ranted your thoughts at her. It can’t happen again. She would fight the damn world if it meant that no one has to go through the pain again. Tears sprung to her eyes as she fought her heart’s wants. She pushed away the images of the possible future that you two could have. The smiles, the laughter and skipped right to the very end to discourage herself. She’ll just be left alone again, to face the world. The pain wasn’t worth it. Every fiber of her being was screaming at her to move, preferably towards you but watching you approach slowly, Gahyeon shook her head and turned to run home. Home, that is a temporary shelter, that is.

Darkness was the first thing you saw when you entered the small, plain apartment while trying to catch your breath from chasing Gahyeon. Stepping in cautiously, you could hear sobs coming from the only other door in the place and you inch towards it. The only source of light there was, was coming from the room so you slowly opened the door to see a wall filled with pictures as Gahyeon sat under it, knees to her chest and sobbing as silently as she could. Approaching the wall, your eyes were drawn to the pictures and how there was a familiar face in all of them. There was a distinct difference in clothing, signaling a different era, but the woman never changed. Gears started turning in your head, trying to find for an excuse of the abnormally but there was no mistaking it. Gahyeon was in each and every one of the pictures, and you could feel the love radiating off each picture. Looking at the woman at your feet, you opened and closed your mouth to try to make sense of what is happening; what Gahyeon was.

“Don’t you see? It’s impossible. Me, you. there is no happily ever after. Only pain as I watch you grow old and die.” Finally looking up at you and meeting your eyes, Gahyeon let out a wry smile before it was pulled into a tight line as the memories struck her again. “I’m cursed to live forever.”

Realization struck at her words, finally understanding what she meant. “I...” You started, trying to find your words while she bitterly stared at you. “I still want this.” Her face scrunched up in confusion, not understanding your thought process. “You deserve to be happy, Gahyeon. Even if its for short moments in your infinite lifespan.” Looking away, Gahyeon bit her lips in thought. “Let me make you happy.”

“I need time to think.”

A part of you wanted to stay with the woman, to show that you weren’t going to disappear but you reasoned with yourself. You knew where she lived now. Judging by the photos, Gahyeon should know to make decisions best for herself. Nodding, you slowly turned to the door.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.” Not waiting for an answer, you left.

The sun had yet to rise the next morning, but you were already dressed and well on your way, heart pounding in your chest to Gahyeon’s apartment. You prayed deep in your heart that she’d at least give it a chance for you. For a possible bright future. Although you have no clue what it was like living forever, you had dealt with grief, and you’d do everything you can to help her with it too.

You stop in your steps when you reach the apartment and found the door barely ajar. Gulping, you took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Biting the insides of your lips, you moved further into the apartment, desperate to find signs of life. Entering the room you were in last night, your heart dropped. Everything had been cleared out. Gahyeon had chosen to run from the pain than see what might have become of a future that held the both of you.

“I guess that is a clear enough of an answer.”

[ineloqueent]

the whole of the moon

Platonic!Queen x Reader

cannot remember where this gif is from. if it’s yours, drop me a line!

synopsis: a late-night shopping trip goes awry...

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking

word count: 1.8k

a/n: happy birthday, dearest vi ( @doing-albri​ )!! i hope you have a wonderful day, because you deserve it. i’m sorry this is so short; i’ve been terribly busy, for whole months, it seems. but i’ve done my best, and i hope you’ll enjoy it. inspired by this song <3

⭒

1975

“Just like old times,” said Roger happily, cranking up the music and beginning to tap his fingers on the steering wheel.

Brian immediately grimaced, and reached over to turn the volume down again.

“Hey!” Roger smacked Brian’s hand away from the knob, and you laughed, from your place between John and Freddie in the backseat.

Brian turned his head to wink at you.

“Some of us need our hearing to be able to play, Rog,” he said.

John wrinkled his nose, flexing his fingers as he shifted a ring from his pointer to his pinky, and back again. “You’ve still got yours left?”

Brian looked confused. “Yeah..?”

“Oh,” said John, with an air of sarcasm, “that’s right. You’re the one who talked our ears off yesterday.”

Now Brian looked miffed. “Just because you don’t understand zodiacal light, doesn’t mean it’s uninteresting.”

Deacy rolled his eyes.

“No offense, darling,” Freddie sighed, “but if you say one more word about science before we’ve finished this champagne-run, I’m going to climb over the console and strangle you.”

Roger guffawed, and John grinned so broadly one would’ve thought him a small child on  Christmas morning.

“Fine,” said Brian, miffed. “I won’t talk at all.”

“Good riddance,” Roger muttered, and Brian crossed his arms.

“Why did I agree to going with you all, again?”

You leaned forward to tug on one of his curls, and Brian whirled, startled, pushing his fingers into his hair. He relaxed when he saw it was only you. “To be the voice of reason, of course,” you told him.

He smiled. “You’re not wrong.”

Roger grumbled, “Don’t boost his ego, sweetheart.”

“Too late,” said Freddie. “He’s going to start talking about time dilation any moment now.”

“Time dilation?” Brian asked. “Hadn’t even thought of that. But if you really want to know—”

A collective groan rose from the other three, and you laughed again.

You loved this.

You loved them.

You loved travelling the world with your four best friends, watching them live their dreams, and getting to be a part of that reality, the reality no one could ever have thought would take on such a life of its own.

Tour life could be hectic at times, but you wouldn’t have given it up for the world.

Not when you arrived in a ramshackle town where the nicest place in sight was the funeral home, not when your legs felt tired enough to give out from beneath you, as you stood watching the show from the wings, for the umpteenth night in a row.

Because when John decided to put on a record, he always asked for your opinion, and picking Roger’s outfit was as much your job as it was his, and when Brian and Freddie played to the crowd as though they were old friends, it was like you held the world in the palm of your hand.

Even if the four of them argued constantly.

As the van suddenly swerved, and the three of you in the back clung to each other in terror, Brian said crossly, “Jesus, Roger, watch the road!”

“I am!” protested the drummer, and Brian grumbled a response in the negative.

“You absolutely are not,” said Freddie, hanging onto the headrest of Brian’s seat. “And I refuse to die in the middle of nowhere, thank you very much, so you can keep your eyes forward if you want to still be in the band by tomorrow night.”

Roger rolled his eyes, and made a blah blah blah gesture with his hand. But he was clearly not as adept at multitasking as he thought, because a moment later, Deacy cried,

“Watch out for that deer!”

“Yes, Roger, slow down,” said Brian warningly. “I swear I will murder you in cold blood if you kill that deer.”

“What deer?” Roger squinted. “I don’t see a— DEER!”

He swerved so violently this time that your seatbelt dug into your skin, and you pushed against the seatbacks to keep from falling forward.

The van hurtled off the side of the road, but Roger had somehow managed to slow the vehicle significantly before the swerve, and so the off-road trip would have been only a momentary pause in your journey into town.

Had it not been for the barbed wire lying in the grass.

The tyres of the van had surely seen better days, after so many miles on the road, and you felt the moment all four of them punctured.

Roger gripped the steering wheel for dear life, and Brian, struggling to combat inertia, had both hands on the dashboard, one knee against the console and other against the door, whilst Freddie still clung to the headrest, and John pushed at the back of Roger’s seat. You, stranded in the middle, failed to maintain any sort of position.

The van ploughed forward like a tidal wave, into the field by the road, then sank abruptly to a stop with a whumph, when the last of its momentum had been wasted.

There was a silence as you looked around the car, at Roger’s tousled hair and Brian’s wide eyes, Freddie’s gritted teeth and John’s crooked collar.

Then the shouting started.

“Roger you moron!”

“How the hell did you not see that coming?!”

“I’ve told you, I need to get my eyes checked!”

“Well, kindly do it before you kill us all!”

“I’ve seen 90-year-old women drive better than you do!”

“Fuck off, Brian! If you hadn’t—”

“We’re never going to get that champagne!”

You all turned to Freddie.

“Really,” you said, “you’re thinking about Moët et Chandon right now?”

Freddie shrugged. “Seems we’d all be in better humour if we’d had the option to have a glass before we left.”

“Or maybe,” Brian drawled, “we’d all be dead, because Roger can barely drive when he’s sober.”

Roger was fuming, bright red in the face with a will to speak but no adequate words to suit, and he looked as though if he stayed silent for a moment longer, he would try to throw a punch at Brian.

Brian, to his credit, folded his arms and raised an eyebrow, and stared Roger down.

Laughter broke the silence, and you all turned to find John completely beside himself with amusement.

He did not stop laughing until he was wiping tears from his eyes, and by then, you had begun smiling too.

“What,” barked Roger.

Deacy shook his head, his soft hair flying about his face. “Don’t any of you see how funny this is?”

“Funny..?” asked Brian cautiously.

“Well,” said Deacy, “are any of you hurt?”

You looked around, tallied the appearances of everyone in your head.

“No,” you replied.

“Okay, then listen: we ran out of champagne, so, despite the fact that it was half-past eleven at night, we all piled into a sort of run-down van, without security, without crew, and set off to buy a bottle of champagne. We’d been driving for all of five minutes before we started arguing the first time, and half an hour into the trip, Roger drives us off the side of a road after Brian finishes rambling about science—”

“Astrophysics, actually—”

“—and all four tyres puncture,” John went on. “And now, we’re in the middle of nowhere.”

There was a pause.

But despite everything, John was right. This really was funny.

You started to laugh as well, and Deacy grinned at you until both Freddie and Brian were smiling, and the corner of Roger’s mouth tugged upward as his colour faded.

Brian sighed, running a hand through his unruly curls. “So, now what?”

“Spare tyres?” you suggested.

“About that…” Roger mumbled.

“Oh, dear god,” Freddie said, dropping his head to his hands.

John laughed again, and Brian made a noncommittal noise.

“So we walk,” you said.

Freddie shook his head. “I am not walking on the side of a road in the middle of the night.”

Roger wrinkled his nose too. “Bloody insects,” he muttered, “get in your hair.”

“And Brian’s stretched his hamstring again,” said Deacy. You glanced over at Brian, who winced apologetically. He wasn’t one to complain, though; you’d all but forgotten his incapacity.

“Which just leaves just you and me,” Deacy nodded to you.

“I dunno, Deacs,” you made a face. “Freddie’s onto something, about not walking on the side of a deserted road in the pitch black. And,” you continued, before John could object, “you’re not going on your own. We’ll simply have to wait until morning.”

Everyone seemed lost in thought.

“Right,” Brian said, “that’s it.” He pulled on the handle of the passenger door, and it clicked open. “We’re sleeping under the stars.”

“Not this again!” Roger cried, but Brian reprimanded him.

“I think you’ve said enough for the time being, Rog.”

The heavy door slammed behind Brian, and you could hear the boot being opened.

“He’s right, you know,” John remarked, in a rare display of solidarity with the guitarist.

Roger only sniffed.

A few seconds later, Brian knocked on Freddie’s window.

“Come on, then!” he said, smilingly. “I’m only sorry none of us brought our instruments.”

Deacy widened his eyes at you. “Thank god for that.”

You laughed and pushed him lightly, toward his door, and when he’d hopped out, you followed.

You rounded the car with John, to find Brian already staring up at the sky, as Freddie and Roger joined you as well.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Brian murmured.

You turned your face to the sky, and saw what he meant.

There was no light pollution here, no skyscrapers or tall houses to obstruct the view, and the world above stretched on endlessly, a plethora of life above your heads. It was so very bright, and yet so very far away. It was indeed beautiful.

You breathed the night air, and nodded.

“I found a picnic blanket,” Brian added, holding it up, “and apparently, Crystal keeps a chocolate stash, so we’ve got that too.” He then sank into the grass, stretching out his long legs, entirely without regard for the light blue suit he wore, and Freddie looked on in distaste.

“That’s no way to treat perfectly good fashion, darling. Now, if it’d been that horrible knitted sweater of yours, and those old, tatty velvet trousers, I’d have said otherwise, but that there is a perfectly good—”

“Sit down, Freddie,” you said, and Freddie closed his mouth and sat. You made your way over to Brian, who had now reclined completely, his fingers winding absently in the pale grass.

Soon, you were all sprawled in the field, which, funnily enough, was peppered with moonflowers, and you sighed, utterly at ease with the peacefulness of the scene around you: your family, the sky, the stars, and the whole of the moon. It shone radiantly this night, full and subtly tinged with orange, warmth softening the usual coldness of its light.

“Spare some of that chocolate?” John whispered from beside you.

You nudged Brian, who passed over the wrapped sweets, which you then handed to John.

Roger was placated by the sharing of the chocolate, and Freddie seemed perfectly content to laze about in a manner similar to that of one of his many cats. The latter fell asleep within minutes, having stolen Roger’s jacket.

It wasn’t long before only you and Brian remained awake, gazing up at the stardust which spilled from the heavens, and the world was quiet.

Brian shifted slightly, and you turned your head to find him looking at you.

A soft smile touched his lips, and his cheeks were rosy in the blue-dark.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said.

You could not help but smile back, because your heart was as full as it had ever been.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” you whispered.

[alchemist-shizun]

Walking the tightrope

Read on Ao3!

Word Count: 6.018

Characters: Janus, Virgil, Roman, Emile, Andy. (Patton, Logan and Remus mentioned once.)

Pairing(s): Platonic Anxceit, past platonic Royality

Warning(s): Angst, shooting mention, abuse, toxic parent, yelling, death, suicide, self-harm implication, scars mention, hospital mention, overdose, major character death, funeral, panic attack mention, breathing difficulty, self-deprecation/self-loathing, crying, swearing

Summary: Janus moves into a new town due to a tragedy and makes friends with Virgil. As he learns to support his new friend, he realizes how much life sucks even in new beginnings. When another tragedy dawns on him, he decides he's going to try to prevent this from happening ever again.

A/N: Guess what? This started out as a vent fic and then turned out to be... whatever the hell that is. Please read the warnings carefully. As much as it sounds like the saddest and angstiest thing you'll ever read, I promise that it somewhat has a happy ending. I also don't know how I managed to write 6k words, don't ask. Hope you can still enjoy!

✾

So long to all of my friends

Every one of them met tragic ends

With every passing day

I'd be lying if I didn't say

That I miss them all tonight

And if they only knew what I would say

« I know how it feels. »

« To be the new one around? »

« To be the odd one out. »

« Mh. Doesn't seem like you like it much here. »

« Oh believe me, » the stranger turned to Janus, the zips of his leather jacket clattering against the wooden table they were sitting on. « I'm going to be the first one to blow this town. »

That got a chuckle out of Janus, which made the stranger extend his arm.

« My name is Virgil and I don't usually come up to people and be all friendly, but you know, outsiders might understand how I feel better than the locals. »

« The longing feeling to just head home already when everyone else is staring at you and pointing fingers? Yeah, I get it. » the boy nodded, smiling in exchange, then he took Virgil's hand. « I'm Janus. »

« Well Janus, » Virgil wanted to laugh at the odd coincidence of roman-rooted names. « Let's have some fun in hell while it lasts. »

« Oh I already went through and came back five times. It'll be a piece of cake. »

They let their water bottles meet like they were clinking two glasses of white wine together, ready to cheer for an important occasion.

Three months into their friendship and neither had surprisingly bailed out.

« Come on, » it was dark outside and they, of all places, were making use of the kids' park's yellow light lamps. « Confession time. » Virgil sat on one of the swings and motioned for Janus to join him.

« Is that some sort of town tradition? »

« Nah, I just never got to play thirty-six questions in my golden teenage years. »

Janus got onto the swing next to Virgil, moving slowly and humming lost in thought.

« What do you want to know? »

« Anything you want to tell that comes to your mind. That's how it works. »

« This thing has rules? » Janus raised an eyebrow and watched as the other giggled to himself.

« No, I just made them up. »

He rolled his eyes, still smiling in amusement and tried to travel around his mind for any notion: as much as they had stuck together for a while, they still didn't know each other to the core.

Virgil shifted in his seat, swinging slightly thanks to his feet moving against the ground.

They started off with simple facts, how one of them had stolen candy as a kid and got away with it, how they had never watched some of the most famous movies, how they had pretty unusual interests.

Then something clicked, like a door opening for a safer, bigger space they could enter.

« I came here because we were forced to run away. » Janus let out after a brief pause.

Virgil turned to him, now all serious and focused. Careful.

« We lived in a very small town and there was a pretty brutal shooting in my neighborhood. » he sighed heavily. « They didn't catch the shooters, there were possibilities of them coming again so we were immediately gotten to safety. At least … at least the ones who survived. »

The other boy bowed his head, unable to imagine how that must have felt, leaving your childhood home without a single notice of whether your other relatives or your friends were alive or not.

« To this day we haven't gotten news from the detectives. » Janus reminisced of when he used to spend entire days with Remus and Logan. They did say they were going to hang out that day but he was too busy with homework …

He didn't want to think about it anymore.

« Your turn. » he dryly said.

Virgil got the hint and looked up at the sky as if in search of an answer; he was more debating whether or not to open up entirely like he did. Was it too early? He surely didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

Yet there was like some sort of force pulling him, pushing him to say whatever came up to his mind instantly.

He decided to play it somewhat safe.

« I have some scars. »

« Oh yeah? Childhood ones? Or surgery- »

Virgil shrugged. « More like … accidents. » that was what they were. Terrible accidents he hated but couldn't help but make real.

Janus snorted, definitely not having understood the implication. « Do you need someone to prevent you from tripping over ladybugs? »

Virgil considered it.

« Actually, yes, yes I do. »

If I could be with you tonight

I would sing you to sleep

Never let them take the light behind your eyes

One day I'll lose this fight

As we fade in the dark

Just remember you will always burn as bright

It was another one of those nights and Janus was growing sick of it.

Couldn't there possibly be a way to sneak his friend out of such a horrible home situation? If only there were laws permitting something like adopting someone your age …

His phone buzzed on the nightstand and he took it immediately, words of emotional despair appeared on his chat with Virgil.

He was just so done with life and Janus could almost feel it through their chat client.

At first it didn't seem too unusual. Virgil would give him snippets of when he fought with his dad, nothing too serious.

But then he noticed the frequency with which they happened, and Virgil started trusting him enough to explain the entire conversations they had; or, better, what his dad yelled at him for either ten minutes to half an hour before he was done and let the poor boy seal himself in his bedroom.

The worst thing was while he would feel like the worst person existing in the entire universe for the entire night, his dad would already feel peaceful ten minutes later.

In the meantime, he also destroyed Virgil's psyche with every fight that happened.

Not that he cared or even realized. He would've probably laughed at that statement.

Janus was just furious.

It had been six months ever since he'd gotten to know Virgil and there was no way someone so wonderful was being treated like trash.

He picked up his phone and put it to his hear, waiting for the other to respond.

Of course, when Virgil greeted him, he could hear his broken voice like tiny pieces of glass that were already broken, being stepped on time and time again, becoming nothing but dust.

« What the hell happened? »

« The usual. » he heard him sniff. « I simply exist, but I do it wrong. »

« Virgil there's not right or wrong way to exist. »

« I know that. It's him that does not. Everytime he comes pissed off from work he just needs to take it out on any of us back home I just can't do it anymore. I was only typing on my computer, didn't even say a word and it led to him insulting me because he saw one book on the ground. »

« This is insane. He is insane and I'm going to get you out of there. »

Janus started pacing around his room.

« Please. In any way you can find, please do it. »

His heart sank at the urgency.

He still had no clue how to help, so he simply sat on his bed.

« How am I supposed to live like this for another probably five years with all the university stress I'm already going to have? »

« Does his yelling make you less motivated in studying? » maybe grounding him, finding exactly how he was affected, could help.

« I get unmotivated at everything. It's as if a depressive episode just hit you all at once while you were having a pretty okay day. I just … » there was a pause on the other side. « I really haven't told this to anyone else because I was always scared of it. »

Janus was immobile. « Go on. »

« Everytime he even just looks at me with a hint of disgust or any general negative connotation I already feel awful. And when he criticizes me to the point of insulting me it's even worse and it's like all of his negativity transformed into self-loathing in me. »

He bit his lip: he really wanted to punch a man.

« Basically, you believe everything he says. »

« In the long run it's impossible not to have all those degrading adjectives marked in your brain. But it doesn't end there. I feel so angry at myself, not because I wasn't smart enough to prevent the fight but because I can't help myself. No matter what I do, it's always going to end bad. »

« And it's not like you can talk back either. »

« Oh no, » he chuckled sadly. « I'd make everything worse. I just say nothing and wait for him to let it all out. And then … then I leave and that's where the scary part comes. »

« You mentioned it earlier … what scares you? » Janus was afraid of the answer.

« Uh, well. You know how I said that I become incredibly self-hating? It's like this ball of anger at the pit of my stomach and it's as if something inside me were telling me to hurt myself to make it stop. »

« Hurt yourself? » he really didn't like where that was going.

« I hate it as much as you do, but it's a thing I don't control. It's this part of me that keeps screaming in my head or I won't be satisfied. So I do it, I … those scars I told you about, I did them. It's the only way I have so far that quiets down my anger instantly. And what scares me is … sometimes I don't even regret it when I truly realize it. »

Janus considered what to say, he didn't want to overreact or scare him even more than how much he already was.

« Okay, I think maybe you don't regret it because you feel better afterwards, right? »

« Possibly. »

« As for it being the only solution you have. You have already considered having a distraction but it didn't work, probably. Is that because you feel like you can't do it by yourself? »

There was some silence on the other side, so he gave Virgil all the time he needed to come to terms with his feelings.

« Alone I'm sure I can't do anything. I mean, look at what kind of conditions I'm in right now. »

Janus sighed. « Then let's do this. Let's talk like this everytime you feel like that. »

« Janus- »

« Give me a code word you can text me and I'll ring you immediately. »

« J, I already did it. Tonight, I did it, I did it before I was able to write to anyone. » his voice felt choked, like he was about to cry again.

« Hey, it's okay. I'm not mad at you. The important thing is you got yourself treated. Breathe. »

After some more words of reassurance, Janus told him to lie down while keeping his phone close.

He sat with his back against the wall instead, an idea in mind.

« You like My chemical romance, don't you? »

« This is not a good time to shame my musical preferences. » he let out a chuckle. « But yes, I do. »

« Okay then, close your eyes. »

« What, is Gerard Way going to appear in my room once I open them again? »

Janus mentally slapped his arm. « Will you just work with me? »

« Alright, eyes closed. »

The boy took a deep breath, before starting to hum a song Virgil immediately recognized.

It surprisingly worked, as he focused only on Janus's voice and the way his singing differed from the original, how it was softer due to the hour, how everything felt better when you didn't think of the world surrounding you.

« Just remember you will always burn as bright. »

Soon enough, Virgil wasn't responding anymore and Janus ended the call, settling into bed as well with one horrible thought.

How long until Virgil couldn't endure that anymore?

Be strong and hold my hand

Time, it comes for us, you'll understand

We'll say goodbye today

And I'm sorry how it ends this way

If you promise not to cry

Then I'll tell you just what I would say

He should've known.

Ever since he heard a knock on the door so late at night he should have known something was wrong.

Virgil appeared on the other side of the door, looking distraught as though there had been a ghost instead of his friend right in front of him.

« I did something bad. » it was like he didn't even believe his own words.

Janus's eyes widened. « What happened? »

And then, for some reason, he seemed to withdraw.

« It's nothing- I just … Can you come out? »

Janus stepped outside, a little weirded out by the sudden request as it was almost midnight.

Talking to his friend didn't seem to be an option; he just kept quiet, he was distressed and wiping away at his silent tears, trying to not make Janus notice as he steadied himself by holding his hand.

If only he'd understood sooner.

Virgil led him to a spot, a little hill nearby the city you could reach by walking about fifteen minutes from their little neighborhood. There was none at that time, just a lonely bench.

Yet the upset boy preferred to sit on the grass.

« Will you tell me what's bothering you? »

« I just don't want to be alone right now. » Virgil responded through the tears.

Janus felt anxiety rising in his chest as he murmured an “okay” and strengthened the grip around the other's hands.

Only a beat of silence before the world came crashing down and the sky fell on their heads.

Virgil launched himself at Janus and hugged him with all the might that was left in his body. He felt arms around him hugging him back, hearing words of concern he didn't want to answer because once he voiced reality it would have become too true and he was too scared to accept it.

Tic, tac, time was running out.

« I took some pills. » he blurted out.

He felt hands on his shoulders pulling him back.

« What? What pills? How many? »

Janus's stare was unbearable, he couldn't look up anymore, it felt too heavy. Too heavy, too much.

« I don't know, » his shaking hands wiped away a tear. « All of them! » he yelled, finally. He gasped for air right after, he thought this was because of his crying, but he sure as hell knew his body was starting to shut down.

« All of them?! » he could feel the tears in Janus's voice as his grip on his shoulders tightened.

Virgil started sobbing again and brought his hands to his face. « Please don't leave. » he murmured.

« I won't. I- » Janus was shaking as well, he had just sent a text for someone to call an ambulance. What else could he do? « How long has it been since you took them? »

Virgil shook his head violently. « Too long- too late. »

« It's never too late. The doctors will arrive soon- »

« Late. It's- They won't. Not in. Time. » he wasn't able to talk properly anymore, he wasn't sure whether it was a panic attack or his respiratory system failing him. « Almost three hours ago. »

« Three … » Janus was shocked.

He was suddenly stiff. Three hours was enough for a person to die of overdose.

« I was scared to go alone … » Virgil admitted through the tears again, not looking up, fear stuck in his throat. « I needed to see you one last time. »

Janus was took over by an uncontrollable need; he took the other's face in his hands and forced him to look at him. « You should've called me. » he retorted, trying to repress the sobs.

« I couldn't. I'm sorry. » Virgil put his hands on the other's arms. He apologized again and over again until Janus told him he didn't have to and he didn't need to be forgiven for anything.

« You're angry. »

« I'm heartbroken, Virgil. You didn't get what you deserved because of the horrible people surrounding you. That's not fair! » his voice rose at the last sentence. Yes, he was actually angry, but not at him. He was many things and felt many things at once and he didn't know how to handle those feelings again.

« I don't want you to go. » he had hugged him instantly, because seeing his face meant it was happening, while looking at the dark meant absolutely nothing.

« It's okay. »

« No, it's not. »

There were sirens in the distance.

None of them said a thing in their embrace for a whole minute, their silence broken only by the occasional sobs.

« Janus- »

He could feel Virgil's heart rate slowing down.

« No. No, no- »

The ambulance was coming, they could make it.

« I love you. »

« I love you too, just don't give up. »

« I think I will … lie down. »

Virgil's head dropped on Janus's shoulder: the other moved so he could rest part of his body on his lap.

« Hey J. When you see my dad again … » Janus lifted an eyebrow, he had been caressing his friend's hair in a state of panic for the past minutes. « Tell him he can go fuck himself. »

Janus let out some laughter that almost came off as hysterical with the state he was in.

« I will. I will, Virgil. I'll punch him for you. » he promised with a broken voice.

Virgil sadly smiled at him before closing his eyes one last time.

« Remember … » he whispered, voice low and cracked. « Take care of yourself. »

One last wish.

And he was gone.

Janus immediately doubled over himself, longing for screaming right then and there, instead he kept quiet, his face buried in a dead body.

Right after, he felt two arms lifting him up, he wouldn't have been able to register whatever had happened until the day after.

Those were the doctors.

They could make it, he had thought, stupidly.

Janus could only perfectly recall one moment of that night, when, at three a.m., as soon as he had gotten into a decent mental state to go back home, he reached what once was Virgil's household, knocking on the door.

And, when Virgil's father answered it, he punched him in the face.

If I could be with you tonight

I would sing you to sleep

Never let them take the light behind your eyes

I'll fail and lose this fight

Never fade in the dark

Just remember you will always burn as bright

Three days.

Three days is all it takes to organize a funeral.

Three days weren't enough for Janus to accept that any of that had been happening.

On the morning right after his death, his mother had commented on how there were news of a student's death and how terrible they were. Then she had looked at her son's shattered expression, his red eyes and marked eye bags.

She had frowned deeply and caught him in a long-lasting hug, understanding.

He didn't remember what happened on the second day apart from him staying in bed for far longer than necessary.

And then there he was.

All dressed up for the occasion on a Saturday morning, ten o'clock in the front rows of a building for a religion Virgil didn't even believe in.

Thankfully his family was on the opposite side of Janus's seating place.

Funerals were those types of events you couldn't miss, but that you couldn't also wait to leave; you promised yourself you wouldn't cry and yet tears would pool in your eyes at any heartfelt confession made, even the most fake ones.

Anything remotely sad is able to break you down where you're on the verge of weeping.

Still, choking back tears was the usual answer.

Janus looked up when Virgil's sister stood and walked in front of the altar, she was holding a letter and a microphone with both of her shaking hands.

She began talking about her brother and their childhood experiences, all the siblings stuff one would expect. Then she mentioned the letter in her hand.

It was a note Virgil had left before meeting with Janus. Something he knew nothing about.

She wanted to read it aloud.

He zoned out for most of it, not registering her voice like he actually didn't want to know. He caught glimpses of memories of his past and present, of the real people who cared, not one mention of his dad was made.

Then he heard his name and suddenly he couldn't focus anywhere else.

« I've only known him for a little less than a year and yet he's been better than anyone I had ever met in my eighteen years of existence. »

Janus put his hands on his face. How dare he leave him like that?

« It's going to hurt. Don't blame yourself. You couldn't prevent this. It was a choice I made alone. I know it sucks and it's selfish, but I wanted a way out. I'm glad I'm getting to spend my last instants with you and that I got to meet you in time. I'll greet you on the other side when time will come. »

She looked up at him and was met with a longing look that hoped she was over and done with that. She gave him a small nod and smile, then went back to read the conclusion.

Janus wanted to laugh, laugh and cry and curse Virgil.

The rest of the ceremony went by and it was now his turn to bid his last farewell.

He knew words were useless when it came to those situations, so instead he gently leaned in and started off humming a familiar melody.

« If I could be with you tonight, I would sing you to sleep. »

He wanted to reach out and shake him, tell him he knew he was pretending to be asleep and it was all a big prank so he could leave his family and run away.

Janus would've gone with him.

The light behind your eyes

Virgil looked like he'd taken the form of a storm cloud.

His skin gray, almost non human. Fully clothed with a suit he would've hated, Janus could hear his usual groan in his memories, which made him sadly laugh.

He looked cold and dead and too real and he hated it.

The light behind your

Janus closed his eyes only for a second.

A second in which that whole night came back to him; he felt Virgil's arms surrounding his chest, tears soaking his shirt, panic rising in his lungs.

He wished he could hold him again, take him away and let him into a safer zone.

Instead Janus's mind took him to the instant he watched as Virgil's eyes darkened, as if you could turn off a star, as if you could turn off the sun with a click.

Sometimes we must grow stronger and

You can't be stronger in the dark

When I'm here, no longer

You must be stronger and

The Monday after, Janus felt himself pushed by an incredibly strong and ardent force.

He had gone to school no problem under the aghast stare of his parents, impatiently waiting for the bell to ring for break time. Perfect, as he dared to admit they were, ideas had started to squirm in his mind ever since the funeral.

As he had gotten out of the church, he remembered meeting Virgil's sister, she had given him a hug, showing him how there was a spot in Virgil's letter she hadn't read in which he asked her to do so.

Right after that, his mother had approached him, knowing how close they were, she had uncomfortably mentioned the school therapist Virgil had wanted to meet, doctor Picani.

Emile Picani walked right past him as Janus had started going on the search for his next class.

« Excuse me, »

The doctor turned around in no time, a calm smile placed on his lips. « May I help you? » he spoke softly.

There was no way he didn't know who he was, given that the news of Virgil's suicide had ran around pretty quickly.

« Yes, I was actually looking for you. I'm Janus Dean, from the senior year, I was hoping I could ask you a favor. » there was a sort of electric buzz in his chest as he watched Emile furrow his eyebrows in interest.

« A favor? Therapy sessions aren't a favor I do for students, sweetie, it's my job. » he explained kindly.

Yeah, he didn't get it.

« That's not what I was looking for. I need another kind of help. » he tried, this time Emile simply nodded, letting him finish so he could understand.

« I know this is not the biggest city but as we've seen it doesn't mean there aren't people who need help, even with the smallest things, especially when they're young and experiencing hard struggles for the first time, »

« What I want to try to do is organize a support group made by youth for youth here in this school. I know Virgil was too afraid to actually come to you and I know there are more kids who would rather express their issues to people their age cause that's what happens everyday with online friends. »

« People understanding each other because they're going through the exact same thing at the same time, thus they can empathize so much better and feel at ease. I'm not trying to downgrade your job, on the contrary I wanted both your help to set this up and … well, I was hoping to be able to host it by myself so I'd need a hand on how I should … behave? » he finally looked up at the doctor, breathless.

Picani was smiling the widest he'd ever seen anyone do.

« Janus you are the most incredible person I have ever met. I would love to help! But at one condition: I'm going to stay with you in the first support meetings, then, when we agree you can handle it on your own, I'll leave you be. »

Janus's face lit up with hope and excitement, he sputtered out multiple thank yous and, afterwards, they set a day to work on their project and contact the school's principal to get the permission they needed.

He started walking towards a class he'd have had in ten minutes when he heard a younger voice call him. Janus turned around and found a boy he'd only noticed once or twice in the halls, he only remembered him heading for theatre club at times while he was leaving for home.

« Sorry, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with doctor Picani. My name is Roman and I just wanted to say that … well, in short I have gone through a similar thing as you are right now, some years ago. » he looked down, reminiscing of his own experience.

Had Janus lived in that city long enough, he would've known of a middle school student's suicide case, Patton Jones.

« I always had this longing feeling to do something about it but I had felt hopeless until now. What I'm trying to say is, if you need help with your idea, I'd be more than happy to assist. »

Janus hoped that Virgil had been watching over him on that day, because that was the first time he felt like the wind was blowing his way.

« Thank you, Roman. You can already come to Picani's studio tomorrow after class if you'd like. » the other boy gave him a nod. « Until then. » they exchanges smiles and parted ways.

His project was going to see the light of day and there was nothing else he would've asked for in the world right then.

If I could be with you tonight

I would sing you to sleep

Never let them take the light behind your eyes

I failed and lost this fight

Never fade in the dark

Just remember you will always burn as bright

It took maybe a month for the support group to finally be successful: at first it was only Janus and Roman, waiting for people to show up and thus chatting along with the school's therapist.

Things started off as awkward until they worked together so well that more and more people were encouraged to show up.

Christmas holidays were drawing near and Janus was nothing but amazed at how far they had come.

He had just said goodbye to his co-host, Roman, and given Emile that session's achievements when he caught someone standing in front of the room's door as soon as he opened it.

« Oh? »

That couldn't be real.

There was a definitely younger boy standing before him, hands in pockets and the same grumpy expression he used to see on Virgil's face. He … he did somehow resemble some of Virgil's traits.

Janus shook that thought off of his head, reminding himself it was probably only because of their similar clothing choice.

When he noticed him, the stranger's eyes widened.

« Can I help you? »

« No, I was just- Well … »

« Did you want to listen? »

The boy probably took that as an attack as he retreated and made himself smaller in his black hoodie.

« It's okay if so, people can come and listen and not say a word if they aren't comfortable with talking. We want it to be a safe space for everyone, without being judged. »

He seemed to consider, standing still. « Okay. I'll see. »

« Well, » the older boy extended his arm. « My name is Janus, pleased to meet you either way. »

He gave him a weak smile. « I'm Andy. »

« Well then Andy, I'll see you around or at next week's meeting? »

Andy nodded and looked down, still hunched over himself; they waved at each other and went home.

It was nothing more than two days later that Janus found Andy sitting at the same wooden table he and Virgil had met.

All those coincidences were making him both dizzy and filled with energy: he reached his new acquaintance and sat with him.

« I know how it feels. » he found himself saying.

Immediately a pair of dark eyes were set on him, a questioning look in them.

« Being the odd one out isn't fun, is it? »

« I guess. I just want to finish high school and leave this town. Living with your parents this much can be unbearable. »

There was some silence, before Janus resumed talking.

« I can perfectly understand. You know, I actually had a similar conversation at this very table one year ago. »

Andy seemed to catch on what he meant right away, he looked up at Janus for the first time, finding a confident young man in front of him.

Janus let his head rest on his palm.

« When he used to vent to me, I'd be able to soothe him with a song sometimes. I'm not saying this exact song would help you in particular, but the concept of it can. Find one peculiar song that grounds you, make it yours for when you need it. »

Andy kept watching him as he explained. He looked at him as though a guardian angel had just dawned on him. How did he know of his profound passion for music?

« And you'll see that soon, unbearable will become conquerable. » he looked at Andy with seriousness in his eyes, but spoke with a kind voice. « Remember to always take care of yourself. »

He sat up. « I will leave you alone now. » he chuckled. « B- »

« No! »

Both of them stared at each other in surprise.

« I mean, » Andy cleared his throat. « You can stay if you want. »

Janus smiled at him and nodded: sitting back down, he noticed Andy's much wider smile.

« So, what music do you listen to? »

The light behind your eyes

He couldn't believe he had come that far.

Janus walked down a street in town, a few years older, his face's structure bolder, his mood as high as ever when he was about to approach the building where his organization resided.

Which was kind of surprising as it was the anniversary of Virgil's death.

Janus was satisfied, to say the least.

He recalled a conversation he had had years prior with Emile Picani about what profession he was thinking of going for and, without missing a beat, he had answered he wished to follow the path of clinical psychology as well.

He had found his call, becoming a therapist and hoping to help as many people as he could: he now was a full time therapist, with his own studio, also visiting schools and participating in the nightly Community Support Group he had founded along Roman.

Sometimes he crossed paths with Emile and, now kind of colleagues, they shared each other's words of wisdom and finally talked more as friends than as mentor and student.

The support group had grown into a pretty big organization and he had succeeded into raising awareness at least in the town he lived in; of course, the challenge was to extend it further, but ending up on local newspapers and in broadcasting services was already a good start, along with multiple online platforms he was trying to maintain with the help of both Roman, Emile and every kid who offered their help.

Their main goal as of then was to expand the meetings to different issues so they could try and work on more specific problems instead of having a messy general one.

Janus stopped to look at the poster on the building's wall.

Some graphic design students had designed the support group flyer: it showcased mainly a picture of Virgil, since they had founded that group in his honor.

It was his favorite picture of Virgil, with his soft smile and that sparkle in his eyes he could still notice even after seeing it leaving his irises firsthand.

It didn't matter what he saw, though, cause his memory lived in him, he lived through him and he knew he would have been proud of him.

Janus looked away with an enormous sense of nostalgia and walked up the stairs.

« Just remember you will always burn as bright. »

Janus entered the building, taking with himself the light behind Virgil's eyes.

[jbbarnesnnoble]

When We Were Young and Naive

Summary:  A death brings you back to the town you’d left behind after high school, reminders of a love past surrounding you. 

Features/Warnings: Angst. Sadness. Major Character Death; Mentions of Real People in a Fictitious capacity (several Pittsburgh Penguins players; Modern!AU

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff/Reader

Notes: This is just pure sad. I really need to write some happy!Nat because almost all of my Natasha stories involve angst or character death. 

Based on ‘Amelia’ by Tonight Alive

Word Count: 2386

You never thought you’d be back in the small one stop sign town you’d grown up in. Getting out had been your only goal when you were a kid. College was your freedom. Most people stayed local. Tony Stark was the only other one who went away, but even he returned home. His family had an attachment to the small town, no matter how wealthy they were. 

You were one of the few who had gotten out and planned to stay out. But then your mother called. It had been years since you spoke to Natasha, to any of your friends. You’d been best friends growing up, until you said you were moving across the country. There had been a big blowup at the Rogers’. You had kept your college decision to yourself until graduation. 

“Weird to think we’ll be at college in the fall,” Natasha said as the two of you laid on the hammock in the Rogers’ back yard. Steve was cozied up with Sharon Carter, Bucky was trying and failing to impress Wanda Maximoff while Sam watched and laughed. Clint was sitting on the side of the swimming pool, watching a game of chicken going on. Maria Hill on the shoulders of Carol Danvers, facing off against Pepper Potts and Tony Stark. 

“Yeah,” you said, your voice quiet. You still hadn’t told her you didn’t commit to the local university. It was a good school, but it wasn’t your dream school. You’d applied to a few other places and got in. Pittsburgh was calling your name. 

“Did you put in your roommate request yet? I got mine today,” she said. You sat up and Nat looked at you with concern.

“I’m not going,” you said. She frowned.

“You’re not going to college? Bug, you always said you were going to go to college,” she said. Bug, short of Lightning Bug, born of your love of the summertime insect. 

“I didn’t say I’m not going. I’m not going to the U,” you said. 

“When were you going to tell me? Where are you going?” she asked. You sighed.

“I didn’t know how. You were so excited when I got my letter. I’m going to Pittsburgh, Natasha,” you said. She nodded.

“We can work with that. It’s not that far, it’s six hours by car, an hour flight. You’ll be home for vacations. Nothing has to change,” she said. You and Natasha were more than friends. You were high school sweethearts. And here you were, about to break her heart. 

“Natasha,” you said softly.

“Oh my god. You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice cracking.

“I...Tasha...it’s not fair to you. I love you. But sometimes, you have to let the people you love go,” you said, standing up. 

“You’re such a bitch, you know that? We’ve been together for four years and you’re just what? Throwing it away because we’re going to be long distance? You hid this from me. What else are you hiding?” she yelled. You felt tears stinging your eyes. Natasha looked at you with an anger and hurt you’d never seen on her face. Your shoulders slumped. 

“I should go,” you said, looking away from her. Everyone was staring. You grabbed your bag and headed to your car. No one stopped you. 

You spent the rest of that summer with your cousin, a distant relation, out by Pittsburgh, after packing up your things for college sooner than you expected. Your parents drove out to move you in. 

You hadn’t been back since then, not even for holidays. You were effectively cast out. It wasn’t so much that you’d gone to Pittsburgh, it was that you’d hurt Natasha. You’d lied to them all. Your friends couldn’t understand your decision making. You glanced at the person in the driver’s seat. 

You had started out working for the Penguins as an intern, working your way to a permanent position by the time you graduated. The organization really was like family, and like family, they weren’t letting you face this alone. Sidney had volunteered to go with you. Geno and Tanger had all but talked you into letting him. 

“You good?” Sid asked. You nodded.

“I haven’t been here since...the last time anyone saw me, Natasha and I broke up. And I ran. That was...like six years ago...and now,” you said your voice trailing off.

“You’re here for her funeral,” he said.

“I’m not ready for this, Sid,” you said.

“No one ever is, kiddo. Come on, your mom’s been staring at the car out the window for ten minutes now. It’s now or never,” he said. You sighed and undid your seatbelt. Sid had insisted on driving. You were grateful for that. The Barton’s house next door seemed to have an endless stream of people. They’d adopted Nat when you were children. You could feel the stares as you got out of the car, hear the whispers.

“She’s got nerve coming here and bringing a guy with her,” you heard Sam say. You sighed. You knew forgiveness wouldn’t be found.

It had been an accident. You weren’t fully aware of the details, you knew enough to know it had been bad. 

“How are you holding up, sweetie?” your mom asked, pulling you into a hug when you got inside.

“Fine, mom. Just...shocked,” you said. 

“Bucky was asking if you’d be coming home,” she said. You snorted.

“Sure he did. Just like the rest of them are looking to welcome me with open arms,” you said. 

“Sweetheart...they’re hurting too. They lost a friend, a sister,” she said. 

“Yeah. I know,” you said, sitting down on the couch. You couldn’t bring yourself to go to the Barton’s, not yet. 

“I know you don’t like talking about it, but you’re going to have to eventually. Natasha would come here daily that summer, asking if you were coming home. You stopped answering texts from your friends. I don’t understand,” she said.

“They chose sides, mom. They made their choice when they didn’t have to,” you said. 

“Did they? Or did you shut everyone out? Steve said he tried calling you right after the accident to tell you Natasha was in the hospital but you blocked his number. Clint said after you left town you weren’t answering anyone,” she said. You shook your head. You didn’t think she’d ever understand. 

“I should go over,” you said, standing up. Sidney was your ever present shadow. You felt the stares as you entered the Barton’s house, the door open. Clint sat on the couch, a blank stare, his parents talking to Mrs. Barnes. 

“You came,” was all Clint said before standing up and pulling you into a hug. After hearing Sam’s comment outside, you weren’t sure what kind of reception you’d get. 

“Of course I did,” you said, hugging him tighter. You felt him shake with the force of his sob. For the first time since you got the news, you let yourself cry too. The two of you sunk to the floor, holding on to one another. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you said. You weren’t sure if you were saying sorry for his loss or for the years that had passed since you’d set foot in town. You lost track of time as the two of you sat there, holding on to one another. Clint knew. He knew the one thing no one else did.

“Tash, we’re gonna get caught if you come on another trip so soon,” you said, a giggle threatening to erupt as you spoke to Natasha over video chat. It had been two years since you left town, a year since you reconciled. You both agreed to keep it quiet. At first it was because your friends were still angry with you for how you’d walked away. Then it became nice having something that was just for the two of you. She knew you had blocked their numbers. You weren’t ready to mend those fences. Not when the immediate aftermath had been so bad. 

“Would it be so bad if we did?” she asked. You sighed.

“You think they’re ready for the truth? That their Bug wants to steal you away to the big city?” you teased.

“I love you, you know that?” she asked.

“Nat? Who are you talking to?” you heard Clint ask in the background. You fumbled with your phone as he came into frame. You were so busted when he saw you.

“Since when are you two talk...you two are back together aren’t you? Since when? I have to go tell everyone,” Clint said. Natasha set her phone down before going to jump on her brother’s back. You laughed as you heard their antics. 

“Clint said he’ll keep our secret,” she said with a laugh. 

You knew the hometown crew knew Nat had been seeing someone for some time. She’d been cagey when it came to spilling the details. At this point, it was down to you being ready to come back into their lives, ready to reconcile with your past and make amends. Five years of keeping secrets. A box was heavy in your pocket. One you’d been carrying for weeks. You knew Clint felt it.

“You brought it,” he said. You nodded.

“It’s hers. It will always be hers,” you said, your voice raw from crying. 

You knew the others had come in. Bucky was the first to piece things together. Clint had left a photo album open on the coffee table, one Natasha had put together of photos of the two of you from the past five years.

“How long?” Bucky asked.

“We made up by the end of summer. Took a break for the year,” you said. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” he asked. 

“It was a funny game at first. Seeing if any of you would figure it out. I was still mad at how you all reacted. And then it just became a matter of enjoying having it be us, just us. I wish I had a better explanation but I don’t,” you explained. You weren’t expecting the hug from him once you and Clint stood. 

You weren’t sure you were ready when it came time for the funeral a few days later. You had slipped the ring box in the casket when you were given a moment to privately say your goodbyes to her. You weren’t ready to say goodbye. You were lost in a memory, the last time she’d made the trek to Pittsburgh. The two of you had finally settled on a house you liked and put in an offer. It had only been a few weeks before. You were lucky to be in a place where you could get a house, thanks to your job and hers. 

“It’s perfect,” Natasha said as the two of you did one last walk through before finalizing your offer on the house. 

“I can’t wait. Maybe it’s time to finally come clean,” you said.

“They’re going to be so mad...but I think they’ll get over it,” she said with a laugh. 

“They can consider it payback for the last prank they pulled. We just...played the long con,” you joked. She pulled you into a kiss before spinning you around, dancing with no music playing in what would be your living room. 

“My wife, becoming a PR boss in the sports world,” she teased.

“We’ll need to get married first, Tasha,” you said. 

“And we will,” she said with a wink. You pulled her close, feeling her relax into your embrace. This was the dream. Life, you thought, would never get better than holding Natasha Romanoff in your arms. She was your forever, of that much you were sure.

“This seat taken?” Bucky asked. You were alone in the funeral home. It was still early. The Bartons had taken their time earlier, giving you yours. 

“No,” you said.

“We knew, you know. Tasha was good at keeping secrets, but Clint’s shit at keeping them,” he said. You laughed.

“Then why did Sam make a snarky comment about me bringing Sid?” you asked. Bucky gave you a look.

“It’s Sam. I think he’s hurt that neither of you trusted him enough to tell him. But you told Clint,” he said. You laughed.

“In all fairness, Clint found out accidentally,” you said. 

“We missed you, Bug. I hate that it took this to bring you home,” he said. 

“We were planning...I was coming to town in a couple weeks. We bought a house. Out in Pittsburgh. I know she mentioned she had found a job in a new city, that she’d be able to spend summers out here. That she and her mystery partner were taking that step. I bought a ring. I was going to propose down by the creek, you know the spot,” you told him. He nodded, a fond smile on his face. The creek was a spot your group had spent many summer days and nights at. As children playing hide and seek in the day, manhunt at night. As teenagers, stealing beer from your parents and spending nights by the fire, hanging out. The creek was your spot on the edge of the Barnes’ property. 

“Bet you had a whole plan, Bug,” he said. You nodded.

“I did,” you said. 

“So, why did you bring that guy?” he asked. You laughed a little.

“The team is like a family. They played rock, paper, scissors. Sid won. They...they didn’t want me to travel alone,” you explained. The rest of the day was a blur, from the services at the funeral home, to the burial at the cemetery on the edge of town. Saying goodbye wasn’t easy. 

But in saying goodbye, you found yourself at home again, surrounded by old friends, family. The light in the dark. It had rained most of the day until the procession made it to the cemetery. The sun broke through long enough to shine on the plot, to shine on you, wrapping you in a warm embrace. You swore you could smell her perfume faintly in the wind as the sun was once more hidden behind the clouds as you laid a flower on the casket. You knew things would be okay, eventually.