#my therapist has been out sick for almost 2 months now and I’m worried about her but we work so well together that I don’t wanna find

[whoblewboobear]

Knowing that I have to go home after an 8-hour shift at the job I hate to force myself to deep clean the depression nest my room has become while neck deep in the same depressive episode for the past 3 months on top of chronic pain makes me wanna scream like can I just smoke weed and sleep on the couch instead pls?

[screechthemighty]

Hello, People Who Read My Resident Evil Fanfics, I'm back!!!! (May be back even more over the next few months, tbh. I don't want to make any promises, but Dracula Daily is hyperfixation-adjacent and getting back into RE4 Remake is up next on my content roster, so who knows?) AO3 link will be in a reblog, but here's the next chapter of catch me floating circles in my fish bowl!

catch me floating circles in my fish bowl - part three:

May 2, 2021:

“Zoe’s fine. She’s shopping at the grocery store like normal, at least.” Carlos showed him a picture on his phone. It took Ethan a second to recognize her. Her hair was all white, and she looked less desperately thin than he remembered. She was buying chips and standing next to a brick wall of a man with a serious case of resting bitch face. He looked familiar, but not quite familiar.

“Joe Baker?” Ethan guessed. “Glad to see she’s still got some family left.” Especially family like Joe Baker. If Chris was right, the guy had punched his way through the site to get to Zoe. He’s probably the only person in this mess more unhinged than I am. And he meant that as a compliment. “Thank you again for this. I know it’s probably paranoid, but with everything going on…”

How was he to know that the BSAA hadn’t gone after her? She could be just as valuable a resource as Ethan.

Speaking of…

“Still nothing from the BSAA?”

“Not that I’ve heard. I feel like that’s not gonna change until you leave. They don’t have a cause to investigate Blue openly and I don’t think they’d suspect Chris of bringing you here, so…” Carlos shrugged. “They’re probably keeping a closer eye on Terra Save. You have physical therapy today?”

Ethan’s mood soured instantly. “No,” he admitted. “I mean, I was supposed to, but I fell last time and they’re worried I fucked up my ankle, so we didn’t do much.” He hoped he didn’t look too petulant. “I know, if I hurt myself it could slow my healing down, I need to be careful…”

“Don’t forget it’s a miracle you’re walking at all,” Carlos pointed out. “You should still be bedridden.”

“Technically, I should be dead, but I get your point. Still, it’s just…”

Frustrating. It was all so damn frustrating. His self-appointed deadline was this month. He didn’t need to run a marathon or anything. He just wanted to walk on his own. Any patience he might’ve had for his body and its shortcomings had gone out the window now that the novelty of being alive had worn off.

“...to be clear, I’m asked this as a concerned friend, not as the guy responsible for you, but…they’ve got you seeing a therapist, right?” Carlos said. “Like…for your brain.”

“Yeah, they have,” Ethan said. “We’re still working on Dulvey. Turns out, almost being murdered under extreme bullshit circumstances is even more traumatic than just almost being murdered. Who would’ve thought?”

Carlos wince-laughed in a way that said he knew exactly what Ethan meant. “At least your guy has probably heard it all by now,” he said. “We didn’t have that when I was going.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think the chainsaw scissors threw him off.”

“...the fucking what?”

Ethan probably shouldn’t have found that funny, but honestly? It was a little hilarious that he could one-up Carlos in the weirdness department.

Just a little.

.

Mia had been avoiding her therapist.

She knew, objectively, that avoiding her therapist probably looked worse than anything she could have actually said in therapy. She knew that whatever she said would stay in that room, that even her criminal past was safe to talk about. She knew this could be helpful, that it might let her sort out her thought spirals and fears and her increasing discomfort with being around Ethan.

But she couldn’t bring herself to go. Going meant actually admitting to everything–to all these dark thoughts, to all the shit she’d done. The thought of saying it out loud and having another person hear made her physically sick.

But she couldn’t stay away forever, so she finally went, with the intention of appearing as put-together and fine as possible.

She failed within five minutes.

“So, you’re concerned that Ethan is pushing himself too hard,” her therapist said. Doctor Reid was a no-nonsense sort of woman, the kind who cut right to the chase. It probably made her a great therapist, but these days, it mostly made Mia want to kill her.

“Ethan’s…” Mia tried to think of how best to phrase it. “...selfless to a fault. I don’t want him thinking about me right now. He should be focused on himself.”

Dr. Reid nodded and wrote something down. “Am I correct in assuming you’ve had this argument before?”

Mia tried to stay calm. It was difficult when visions of every argument they had since Mia learned she was pregnant started dancing through her mind.

We matter, Ethan! You matter! He’d been so caught up in protecting Rose, even before she was born. She’d known the lengths Ethan had gone to protect her. Known that he would go just as far for Rose, if not further. It was part of the reason she’d been so afraid to tell him what the mold had done to them. If he’d come to the same conclusions they had–that the BSAA had been deliberately negligent to unknown ends–who knew what he might have done?

The sound of pen against paper drew her out of her racing thoughts. Dr. Reid must have taken her silence as an answer. “Have you discussed this with him at all?”

Mia forced her voice to stay flat. “I’ve told him it’s okay to recover at his own pace,” she said. “He knows that we’re safe.”

“Maybe, but there’s more to the conversation than that, I think.” Dr. Reid put her pen down. “Are you frightened of what your husband might do?”

Damn this woman. “Why would I be? He protects us.”

“And he nearly died doing so, twice. That’s difficult to discuss. Objectively, he’s not wrong. Protecting those you care about is noble. But the survivor’s guilt you would’ve felt…” She picked back up her pen. “...and the guilt I’m sure you feel now are still very real. It could be easy for him to forget that.”

Mia felt her jaw go tense. “It’s not about that.”

“What is it about?’

“It’s my fault…”

Damn it. Damn it. Doctor Reid knew about the Connections, of course she did, but that didn’t mean Mia had to bring it up.

Doctor Reid glanced up. “You blame yourself,” she said finally, “because you think your time with the Connections is the reason Ethan ended up the way he did?”

The plan was not to reply, but Doctor Reid just sat there, waiting for an answer. Screw it. If this woman wanted an answer, she’d get her damn answer.

“I don’t think. I know. If I hadn’t been working for the Connections, I never would’ve ended up in Dulvey and he wouldn’t have had to save me. That’s where he got infected. That’s where the Rose got infected.”

“And if the BSAA had been honest, Ethan would’ve been cured, or his condition would have been managed,” Doctor Reid pointed out. “Maybe if they’d been honest, you two would have chosen not to have children. If Mirand had left you alone, or never learned about you, Ethan wouldn’t have had to save you a second time. Yes, your actions were one of the dominoes, but they were also just that. One of the dominoes. Why do you think you should shoulder all the blame?” Doctor Reid paused. “Why do you think Ethan thinks you should shoulder all the blame?”

“I don’t think that. I…”

She didn’t know. And that was really the worst part. So much of her was convinced that he wouldn’t blame her, which was bad in its own way. But the anxiety, the guilt, had her convinced that he would. There was no version of the story where this ended well.

“If I may,” Doctor Reid said. “You worry about Ethan pushing himself too hard and you worry about him getting into danger again. I assume this worry is compounded by the fact that you blame yourself for everything that’s happened, which in turn makes you feel that you’re not worthy of that protection. These are very strong emotions that are going to impact your interactions with Ethan, especially since you’ve had these disagreements before. Do you think I’m wrong?”

“...no.” It was a miracle it hadn’t impacted things already–or, at least, that it hadn’t in such a strong way that Ethan had noticed and started asking questions.

“Have you tried communicating with him about what’s been bothering you? You said Ethan had been keen to talk in the past. Perhaps if you had some mediation…”

“You offer couple’s counseling, too?”

“Actually, I’d find a third party, but we do have those.”

Of course they did. Nothing like a viral outbreak to put a strain on a marriage, right? Mia nearly burst out laughing at the thought, but managed to keep it together. Barely.

“I’ll think about it,” Mia said.

And she would. She just had a feeling she already knew what her answer was going to be.

.

May 5, 2021:

“You’ve got to be absolutely shitting me.”

Credit to everyone in the room: they were really doing their best not to laugh, or were treating it just as seriously as Ethan felt. Because he was taking this seriously. Because it was bullshit.

“Everything I’ve been through,” he said, staring down the cold compress on his arm, “all of that bullshit. And I’m still…” The only thing that kept him from swearing was Rose being in the room, staring him down with a slightly concerned look. “...I’m still allergic to bees?!”

“It would seem so, yes,” Doctor Marshall said calmly. “Do you want to hear something reassuring?”

“There’s something reassuring about this situation?”

“Your body is having a normal reaction to the sting. Not an exaggerated one, and it hasn’t triggered anything else in your healing. That’s a good sign.”

Damn it, he had a point. “I guess,” Ethan grumbled. Then, “Bees?!”

Jill finally broke the no-laughing rule with a barely muffled snort. “Sorry…” Her pale blue eyes were lit up with amusement as she tried not to make eye contact. “...no, it sucks, it really does…”

That probably should’ve pissed him off more, but…okay, yeah, it was funny-not-funny now that someone was laughing. Ethan deflated a bit, a bemused sigh escaping past his lips. “Just please don’t tell my wife,” he said. “She worries about me enough as it is. You’re telling her I’m fine, right?”

“I’m giving Mia medically accurate information,” Doctor Marshall said. “Unless you want to withdraw her as your-”

“No, no, it’s…” Great, that just means that either she’s misreading the information Marshall’s giving her or the results are worse than I realized. He wasn’t sure he liked either option. “It’s fine,” Ethan said. He peeked under the cold compress again. “Does the medically accurate information include that this bee sting isn’t gonna kill me?”

Ethan thought he felt a shift in Jill’s mood after that comment. That feeling was confirmed as she wheeled him out. “Everything okay with you two?” she asked. “I don’t want to be nosy, I just know this kind of thing puts a strain on…everything.”

“It’s…” Ethan sighed. “Complicated. Conflicting support needs, I think.” That was what his therapist had said when Ethan tried to describe the disconnect between how they’d handled Dulvey. Ethan wanted to talk. Mia wanted to forget. Neither was wrong, necessarily, but it did contribute to why they’d been butting heads on and off before the village. They hadn’t started couples therapy yet. Ethan wondered sometimes if they should move that up the list.

I basically died on her. That can’t be good for her mental health.

“That’s always tough,” Jill said. She had that tone, the one that said she and Carlos had been through the same thing. That was so weird to think about. They seemed rock solid, the two of them. Then again, they’d been together for a while, and lived through a lot during that time. Nothing like practice to improve your communication skills. “The give and take of it all. You’ve got to be supportive without giving up your own needs.”

“And hers,” Ethan added, tilting his head towards Rose as she grabbed at his coat collar. That was definitely a complicating factor. “I keep trying to tell myself that all couples have these problems, but…they don’t. You can say it’s the same thing, but it’s not.” Maybe that wasn’t fair, maybe he was playing the trauma Olympics, but he’d kill for regular problems. He’d kill for so many of their problems to not be tied up in dumbass crime syndicates and undead werewolves and potentially world-ending bullshit. If he could swap places with the Ethan who’d lost an arm to a car accident, he’d do it in a heartbeat. Zero hesitation.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Jill said. “I think that’s why I was never able to make normal friends. Almost everything feels minor compared to…” She gestured vaguely. “...everything.”

Everything was a pretty good summary of things. And that really summed up how shitty things were for the both of them. “How did you two make it through things?” Ethan asked. “I mean, if you’re okay with sharing.”

“Couples’ therapy,” Jill said without hesitation. “It helped with everything. Even the mundane stuff. And we talk to each other, as much as we can. It used to be a monthly thing when we were active duty. There was a lot happening and we wanted to make sure we had the time.”

That made sense, but it didn’t make Ethan feel any better. How were they supposed to do this when Mia still didn’t want to talk? He couldn’t force her. He’d tried, if he was being honest. It had only made things worse.

How much longer could they just let things stew again?

.

May 15, 2021:

Apparently, at least another week and a half.

Maybe the mounting anxiety had been a warning.

She’d known from the second she opened her eyes that today was going to test her. Mia hated to blame Ethan, because it wasn’t entirely him. She’d been slipping towards a shitty day for a long time.

But opening her eyes to see Ethan standing upright didn’t help.

“What are you doing?” Mia yelped.

Ethan nearly fell over. Fortunately, he’d been clinging to a chair to support him; it was the only thing that kept him falling down. “Shit!” he yelped back. Then, quietly, “Shh!”

Mia’s gaze darted guiltily to Rose. Fortunately, she was still fast asleep. “What are you doing?!” Mia hissed once she was sure her baby hadn’t woken up.

“I was cold,” Ethan replied. “I wanted a sweater.”

“I could have gotten one for you.”

“You were finally sleeping, I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“What do you -” Mia took a deep breath. “Please sit down. I will get you a sweater.”

Ethan nearly protested. She could see it in the way that his shoulders went tense and his eyes met hers directly. But just as suddenly, he looked away, his shoulders slumping, as he sat down. Crisis averted, she allowed herself to think as she got up to get him a sweater.

That was stupid of her to think. She knew Ethan better than that. She should’ve known. Ethan only stayed quiet for as long as it took to get him the sweater. But once he was holding it…

“I don’t want to do this again,” he said.

Oh, no. “Do…what…?”

“It’s just…” Ethan sighed and rubbed his eyes. His fingers seemed to linger over the scar tissue across his nose. “Back in Europe, it felt like every little thing was an argument. But we never really got at why we were fighting. I don’t want to keep doing that.” He met her eyes again. “It doesn’t feel like you’ve been sleeping well. I haven’t always, either, and sometimes when I wake up in the night or when Rose wakes up, I can hear you…moving around, talking in your sleep. Like how you did after Dulvey. I can walk short distances and you looked peaceful, so I didn’t want to disturb you. You’re dealing with enough without adding sleep deprivation on top of that. I’m worried about you.”

She’d heard those four words so many times. She was starting to get sick of them. “I get that, I do, but you have…” Mia took a deep breath. “You have to start worrying about yourself. Ethan, you died a few months ago. If you get hurt again, if you’d fallen and hit your head…I have enough to worry about without worrying about you doing something stupid, okay?”

She knew, immediately, how harsh she’d sounded. It was starting to remind her too much of the argument they’d had that day in Europe…the one that had nearly been their last argument. Mia rubbed her eyes, hoping that she wasn’t about to start crying. “Please.”

“Okay, okay. No more walking without someone watching me,” Ethan said soothingly. His one hand reached out to rest on her knee. Even with the sweater sleeve covering it, she could vividly see the scar on his forearm. “Stressed about what, honey?”

About the fact that I almost got you killed. That they have to run tests on our daughter and it’s my fault. That you’ll find out the truth and nothing will be the same ever again. That nothing is the same already.

“Don’t do that,” Mia said out loud instead. “Please. You can’t fix everything, Ethan.”

“I’m not…you can talk to me, Mia. I’ll listen. No problem-solving, promise.”

She wasn’t sure she believed him. And even if she did, she couldn’t make herself say the words. “It’s…this whole situation,” she said finally. Not a lie, but nowhere near the truth. “It’s this whole situation.”

She was dodging. From the way Ethan looked at her, he knew she was dodging. She expected him to call her out on it. He always had before. Instead, he just looked sad. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, baby, I know.”

He hugged her carefully. Mia was able to embrace him back, but she hesitated at first, the surge of guilt getting the better of her.

She knew Ethan had felt that, too, but he still didn’t say anything.

.

If his problems had a face, Ethan would have shot them by now.

He guessed Ethan could say his problems had some physical form: his bones, his muscles, the injuries and scar tissue that had hobbled him, the mold that had merged with his cells and turned him into something not quite human. But he couldn’t exactly punch himself in the face. Multiple BOWs had already done that for him, and look where that had gotten him.

He could still be mad at himself, though. Either his body had betrayed him forever and this was just his life now, or he wasn’t trying hard enough. One of those answers was easier to accept than the other one.

Unfortunately, accepting the latter only made the moment that he ended up face-down on the floor in the middle of PT all the more painful.

“FUCK!” Ethan shouted as he flopped onto his back. He wasn’t bleeding, but he’d hit his face pretty hard. “Son of a bitch!”

“Easy…” His therapist helped him carefully sit upright. Tom was usually a pretty chill guy, and usually had the decency to not visibly worry so much when things went wrong. This time he looked worried. “Did you hit the bar on the way down?”

“I didn’t hit the fucking bar. Shit.” Ethan looked around instinctively. He knew Rose wasn’t there, but he couldn’t help double checking. He tried really hard not to swear in front of her. He was just so…

Ethan carefully touched under his nose, checking for blood. There wasn’t anything that he noticed, but he knew what was coming next. “Let me guess, this is the part where we take a break for the day? We’re done?”

The words came out in a snap. Tom didn’t take it personally; the worst part was, Ethan was so pissed, he only felt a little guilty for being a dick about it. He felt even less guilty when he was informed that this was, in fact, it for the day.

At least he could wheel himself around the facility now. It meant he didn’t have an audience for his frustration.

Ethan probably should’ve gone back to his room and lay down. The session had been draining as it was, and he was kind of sore from that landing. But he went down to the ground level and right out the front door. No one tried to stop him, thank God. They probably figured he couldn’t go very far.

He went further than he had before, right out the front door and out into the parking lot, all the way to the far edge. There was just a field out there, and a barbed-wire topped fence. Somewhere on the other side of that was the rest of the world.

A world that he might never get to be a part of again.

Ethan took a deep breath and screamed. It was wordless at first, but quickly devolved into a rapid-fire barrage of every swear word he knew. They could probably hear him inside, but he didn’t care. What were they gonna do? Force him back inside? Revoke his wheelchair privileges? It wasn’t like his day could get any worse.

Eventually his voice gave out. He sat in silence, just him, the midday sun, and the random cars. The sound of approaching boots broke that silence eventually. Ethan didn’t have to glance over his shoulder to guess who it was. There were only three people he knew who wore boots regularly, and one of them was out of the country again. “I can’t go back in there,” he said dully.

“Wasn’t going to make you,” said Jill. “So, how’s a parking lot for a mental breakdown space? I haven’t tried that one yet.”

Points to her, the comment did get a laugh out of him. It wasn’t the sanest sounding laugh, but it was something. “It’s, uhm…” Ethan tried to wipe some of the tears off his face. “...better than a bathroom, I guess. Air quality’s nicer.”

“Yeah, bathrooms are like a bottom three pick.” She sat down in the grass, in his line of sight but off to the left. Her white-blond hair caught the sunlight, contrasting it more sharply against the black hoodie she was wearing. It looked a few sizes too big–one of Carlos’s, maybe. “You want to talk about it?”

He did. Keeping it bottled up was killing him, and maybe Jill would actually understand what was going on here. But for a long time, the words didn’t come. He just stared down at his one remaining hand. It had been working fine lately–grip strength almost back to normal, no more freezing up at random, sensation much better. Why couldn’t everything go that smoothly? Why did this have to be so hard?

Hadn’t they all been through enough?

“...Mia and I’s anniversary is this month,” he said. “Ten years.”

“Ten years? With two disasters in the middle of that? Shit, that’s not bad.” Jill sounded genuinely impressed. “I’m guessing you wanted to get out of here before that?”

“No, not even that. I can handle being here if we really have to.” They were safe here, at least, and safe was all he could really hope for. “I just…I was just hoping I’d be walking more by then. I wanted her to see that I’m okay. And don’t give me the whole oh, you should be dead, who cares if you’re not walking yet speech. I care. I can’t…” He rubbed at his eyes desperately. “It’s not enough. I thought even a few steps would do it, but I can just feel her pulling away and she’s so focused on being worried about me that she’s not thinking about anything else and I can’t…I can’t see her like that. I can’t live through that again.”

He was bracing himself for more questions; what he got instead was a slightly bitter, huffing laugh. A sound of recognition. “Fuck, yeah. Been there.”

Ethan lifted his head. “Seriously?”

“Chris didn’t tell you? I was MIA presumed dead for three years.”

Chris had definitely not mentioned that. “Chris doesn’t really talk much about his BSAA days. Was this before you left?”

“Yeah. One of my last missions with the old crew, actually. It’s a long story, but Carlos was…” She sighed. “...he kept it together for me. And I appreciated that, I really did, but I knew it wasn’t going to last forever. It was just a matter of when.” She started rubbing her sternum as she spoke. Ethan saw her do that sometimes. “Worst part was, I knew that. I just had no way of knowing what would finally do it. It was just the one time, thank God. We were able to talk about it after that.”

“So what you’re saying is that she might have to break more before we can fix it?”

“No.” Jill hesitated. “I mean, that’s not wrong, but that’s not what I’m saying. What I’m saying is that what you’re going through isn’t abnormal. I don’t know if I can fix what’s going on with Mia, and I don’t think you can, either. She has to figure that out for herself, like Carlos did. But you know what kept me sane when everything went to shit?” She made direct eye contact with him then. She had such an intense gaze, her pale blue eyes seeming to stare right through Ethan’s skull. “You’ve gotta lower your expectations, man. I know that you want everything back to normal, trust me, I get that, but that went out the window three years ago. I’ve lived it twice. It sucks, every time, but if you try to force it, you’re just going to hurt yourself worse. Physically and mentally.”

Ethan forced his gaze away from her. It was stupid, all things considered, but he didn’t want her to see the tears starting to form in his eyes. “This sucks,” he said finally.

“Yeah, I know. It’s not fair. I wish it were. But you can make it work. It’s possible. And believe me when I say…she’s just happy you’re still here.”

Ethan didn’t doubt that. He just wasn’t always sure it was enough.

Maybe he was wrong about that.

.

“Mrs. Winters?”

Mia’s head snapped back up. Doctor Marshal was staring at her with a worried look. “Sorry,” she said. She rubbed her eyes. “I just missed that last part…were we talking about skin samples?”

“Yes, but they’re optional, and more for Ethan’s benefit. How is he, by the way?”

Mia wasn’t sure how to answer that. The conversation from that morning was still dancing through her head. The wounded look on Ethan’s face was burned into her eyelids. “He’s…still a little stir-crazy,” she admitted. “Nothing we can’t handle, I don’t think.”

“That’s understandable. How about you? How are you doing?”

Mia wasn’t sure how to answer that. She wasn’t sure she could lie, not when she had zoned out in the middle of the conversation. There was so much going on, so many things she didn’t have a handle on. “...can I ask you something personal?” Mia said finally.

“Go ahead.”

“How did you get past your old job? How do you…ever make up for something like that? After everything that happened…” Doctor Marshal’s face changed quickly, growing more closed-off than she’d ever seen the doctor. Damn it. “...I mean, I don’t know how much you were involved…”

“Bioweapons development and research,” Marshal said. “So, yes, I was involved. Not directly in Racoon City, I was never assigned there, but…only a few degrees of separation between my department and theirs. I’m sure members of the Nemesis team used my research.”

Oh. They had more in common than she’d realized. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Don’t be. It’s a valid question.” Marshal sighed heavily. “Honestly, it took a lot of time. Joining Blue Umbrella helped. Actions feel more like atonement than words. But I had to accept at some point that I could be as sorry as I wanted, but I couldn’t change the past. Even trying to act like the past didn’t happen kept me stuck there. I wasted so much time trying to figure out how to dance around it that I may as well have been stuck in my room, blaming myself. I had to face it, admit it, figure out what I could do instead now, and move on. I still feel guilty now, but I’m not drowning in it anymore. It’s just a feeling. Usually a productive one.”

The difference between guilt and shame. Her therapist had brought it up. Mia was really starting to hate how much the woman was right about things.

“Not everyone is going to forgive us,” Marshall added. “That’s within their rights. That shouldn’t stop us from trying.”

“...yeah.”

They dropped the subject after that, but it stayed with her. It took up so much of her mental space that she almost forgot…

“You’re doing really good,” Carlos said suddenly.

…she’d had an extra set of ears in the hallway the whole time, looking after Rose.

“What?”

“At…all of this. Considering.” Carlos cleared his throat awkwardly. “Just in case no one’s told you that.”

Carlos was an easy man to read. He reminded her of Ethan that way. She could tell he meant it. That didn’t do enough to ease the sudden dread in her chest. “How much did you…?”

“Nothing I won’t have forgotten by the end of the day,” Carlos said. “I’m great at keeping secrets. I can’t retain shit.”

That sounded sincere, too, and just self-mocking enough to get her guard back down. “That’s…”

Goot to know was what she wanted to say. It got stuck in her throat. She was barely able to hold back the alternative response.

I’m scared.

But Carlos seemed to understand anyway. He reached out carefully, only resting his hand on her shoulder when she didn’t move away. He had a reassuring grip, what she’d imagine a touch from a cool older brother or a non-shitty father would feel like. “Is there anything I can help with?” he asked.

“...no,” Mia whispered. The dread was back, joined by a heavier sense of resignation. “No. I have to do this myself.”

Deep down, she’d known it was inevitable. In fact, it was long past overdue. No matter what the outcome…

She owed Ethan the truth.

She wouldn’t be able to fix this until she’d told him.

[headspaceinanutshell]

Under pressure

I always start my blog posts with “So much has happened” but this time I feel like a lot has!

To start with, I’m still going with my therapy. I’ve been working with my therapist for around 6 months now, which is crazy considering it was only suppose to be for a short time whilst I was dealing with all the changes in my relationship. It turns out that I need it for many aspects of my life, childhood and day to day emotions. By now you all know that I can get overwhelmed by a drop of a hat. That’s no secret that I struggle with anxiety and sometimes spouts of depression. This week has been no exception.

It all started with an email from the Sales Director which read very dry and formal asking me to go into the office for a face-to-face meeting. The email meeting request didn’t suggest what it was about. The moment I read this email I instantly jumped to a conclusion that I was in serious trouble or had done something wrong to prompt such a serious meeting with a very senior director in the business.

Naturally, I freaked out and panicked. I felt a wave of sickness hit the bottom of my stomach, I began sweating and couldn’t seem to slow my breathing down. I instantly started crying and called my mum. Luckily that evening I had my therapy session. I spoke through my fears with my therapist and worked on coping techniques. That night I really struggled to sleep, I tossed and turned all night worrying about what was going to be said in the meeting.

The day finally came, I went into the office and noticed that most of my team were also in the office. This was unusual as on a Friday most of us choose to work from home. Then I realised, my meeting was at 4pm and others were going in before me. So the relief of knowing that it wasn’t just me gave me hope that I wasn’t getting in trouble.

The time came for me to go into the office. I went it and I felt very official. I was then told that I potentially will be made redundant as well as most of my team. I took the news pretty well considering the situation. The fact I wasn’t in trouble for something was such a huge weight off me. I walked out of the meeting feeling ok. Then when I got home, it hit me that realistically I will be without a job in a months’ time.

I’ve just moved into a new rented house, completely living alone and now in one months’ time I will not have a job. So frantically, I updated my CV and jumped straight on indeed. I cant tell you how many jobs I have applied for. It feels like hundreds.

On top of that stress suddenly hit me with that news, I noticed that I had a sharp pain in my left breast. Just to give you some backstory, back in 2018 I went into hospital for an operation to remove a lump from this breast, it took a while to recover from the surgery as it was such an invasive procedure. I had serious bleeding under the skin after the operation which resulted in me returning to the hospital a few times.

Anyway, 2 weeks ago I made the decision to call the doctors again as I had noticed a lump, larger than the first one had grown back. It was also causing me discomfort wearing a bra and sleeping on one side. I also noticed that I was getting a strange rash around the area but thought that this could be that my bra was ill fitting and causing irritation. I went into my appointment where the female doctor examined me and checked the area. She pushed the lump around quite a lot which caused it to feel very uncomfortable for a few days after. She sat me down in the chair and asked me about my family history and proceeded to tell me that from what she had felt, the new lump was almost double the size of my one 4 years ago. She seemed to also have concern over the area of skin which was rashing.

The doctor told me that I was going to be referred as an urgent case to the hospital where I would need to get this examined in more detail. She told me that I was being put forward as an urgent case under probable breast cancer patient. Hearing those words come out of her mouth really put the fear of god into me. I mean, theres always that thought in the back of your mind when you go to an appointment like this but hearing her say it at least 3 times was so unsettling. There was no sugar coating the situation on her part, it was very serious and very dry.

I walked home from the doctors and reflected on what just happened and those words circled in my head. I felt sick, I felt pain and I just wanted to go home and get into bed. The tears started falling on the way home, but really tried to fight back against them. When I got home, I had to wipe away my tears, sort out my face and jump straight back on my laptop to carry on working. At that very moment, all I wanted was my husband to come home, put his arms around me and pull me in for a big safe hug. Last time I went through this, he was by my side all the way, this time, I am completely alone.

At the start of this week, I really felt like I didn’t have a hold on my life anymore. My husband has gone, I’m losing my job and now I have my boobs to worry about. I cried everyday, I called my friends who were probably sick of me crying at them. Telling me not to worry and things will get better. But honestly, will they?

It got to a point on Tuesday working that I realised I am way in over my head, trying to act normal and carry on when my mind is not resting and worrying about everything that’s happening right now. I took Wednesday off after explaining to my manager why I needed time away. She was most understandable and made sure I was ok. By Thursday I was ready and ok to go back to work. I pushed through and felt stronger once I had a day of just rest and gathering my thoughts together.

It is now Saturday. I made it through the week. Which is such a big achievement after the way I was feeling. This evening I am settling down with my herbal tea, getting comfy and taking it easy.

It’s been a horrible couple of weeks. In fact, its been a horrible 6 months. I keep asking myself when I will catch a break?

I wonder if I ever will.

[venicebixch]

Crush part 8

tumblr is being stupid again and the font and spacing won’t cooperate so sorry again if this posts weird. anyway, continued mentions of blood, vomiting and death with some angst. enjoy 👀

I see blood spattered against the house. Luke and Vinnie are both on the ground, and I have no idea who has been shot. If it was Luke, if it was Vinnie, or if it was both of them.

I jerk my head to the side, taking my eyes off the scene in front of me. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to see. I don’t want to fucking exist.

The urge to vomit is too much to suppress now and I run to the opposite side of the road and drop down to my hands and knees, throwing up into the grass.

My mind goes blank again. No thoughts. Just the sound of the gun shot playing over and over again in my head.

After a moment, Jett comes up and touches my back.

“Y/n -“ he starts to say.

“Is he dead?!” I cut him off, looking up him. His face is white and his eyes are wide. He looks sick. I’m terrified of the answer that’s about to come out of his mouth.

God please don’t let him be dead.

Jett shakes his head. “No, they shot Luke.”

And just like a switch went off my body once again, I feel like I’m floating as a huge wave of relief washes over me.

“So he’s okay?” I ask in a hopeful tone, standing up to look back at the house.

Vinnie is being helped up from the ground by one of the officers.

He’s okay. Thank god, he’s okay.

—

It’s been 2 1/2 months since everything happened with Luke. Vinnie and I had an important conversation a few days after the ordeal.

—

Flashback

Vinnie 8:23 pm

I’m here

I put my shoes on and head out of my front door, walking to Vinnie’s car.

“Hey, Vin,” I say as I get in, smiling at him. He gives me a half hearted smile back.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, furrowing my eyebrows.

“I uh - I can’t do this,” he says, looking down. He looks like he’s trying to hold back tears.

“Do what?” I ask, grabbing his arm gently.

He shakes his head and looks out of the window beside him. “I don’t know. I don’t think we should be around each other anymore.”

I feel a lump form in my throat. “Why?” I ask, my voice sounding a little hoarse.

“I’m not a good person,” he says in the most monotone voice he could muster.

“What?” I say, confused.

“I’m not a good person. I have anger issues and I’m stupid and you deserve way better than me. I’m just not a good person to be around sometimes and you don’t need to be here the next time I fuck up. I almost cost us our lives.”

“Vinnie, please. We went through a lot the other day. It’s not your fault. You did what you did to help me. I’m genuinely terrified to know what my future held for me if you weren’t there to help me. I’m so fucking grateful for you.” 

“Yeah but that could have been handled in a way that didn’t almost kill us. If anything, what happened was just instant karma for me allowing you guys to set yourselves up to potentially get caught lying to the cops - which, by the way, carries a 6 month minimum prison sentence and a will 100% lead to a fucking felony on your record. I looked it up last night. It was all wrong, and I’m ashamed I allowed for it to happen. I’m just sorry you guys had to end up as innocent bystanders to my idiocy.”

I sit in silence for a moment trying to think of the right thing to say but I don’t think there is anything I can say to help him. He needs help that I can’t give him. 

“Did you call that therapist?” I ask. 

He rolls his eyes. “No, and I don’t think I’m going to. It won’t help.”

“I haven’t either. But I am going to. It will help. Please go, Vinnie. Please.”

He shakes his head no. “I’m just done with everything. I’m not doing this anymore and I’m not arguing about it.”

“Don’t say things like that,” I say, tears starting to well up in my eyes. I blink to try and hold them back.

“Don’t worry, I’m not like… gonna hurt myself or anything but this,” he waves his hand in a circular motion, “is not going to continue.”

I feel anger creep in, and scoff. “Well, you can’t just cut me off after everything we went through!”

“I can and I’m going to. It’s for your own good,” he says, still looking out of the window.

“You can try buddy, but I’m not going anywhere,” I insist, crossing my arms.

He shakes his head, sighing. “Just go back inside. This conversation is over. I’m tired and want to go home.”

I shake my head at him in disbelief. “I’m not leaving this car until I know you’re okay.”

“I am okay, I just don’t want to be around you anymore.”

“I feel like this is my fault,” I say, crying now.

“It’s not your fault. I just told you how I feel. You need to leave. Talk to your therapist, you’ll get over it,” he says coldly.

My stomach knots up. “Whatever,” I say getting out of the car, slamming the door as hard as I can. I start to walk away and then turn back, opening it again.

“And one more thing - you can’t make me stay away. Your friends are my friends, pal. You’re stuck with me even if you won’t talk to me. And I’m gonna be a friend to you, whether you like it or not.” I shut the door again then storm off into the house.

—

Since that conversation, Vinnie has been really distant from me. From everyone, really, but especially me. In fact, I haven’t spoken to him at all and I’ve only been around him twice since then. I’m extremely frustrated by it but at the same time, I’m trying to be understanding. He seems like he’s really going through it. I mean of course he is. He had a gun held to his fucking head and had someone die right beside him.

Almost everything he posts online is sad. On the rare occasion he does stream, he’s in a bad mood the whole time. But I don’t know what I can do about any of it. I’ve tried reaching out but he won’t respond. I can’t help him if he won’t help himself.

I find myself looking through his tiktoks and YouTube, rewatching his old videos. It’s the very first thing I do every single morning. As soon as I open my eyes, he’s the first thing on my mind. I go straight to see if he’s posted anything, then I scroll for a while until I find something happy and I try to suck whatever happiness I can out of that. And every night I fall asleep rewatching his old streams. It sounds pathetic when I sit back and reflect on it, and it’s not healthy. But I swear it’s the only thing that brings me any peace or happiness at this point.

I’m standing in front of the microwave waiting on my soup to heat up. I feel antsy today. I mean, I feel fucking antsy every day but especially today. I’m supposed to go over to the hype house tonight, they’re having another get together. The first one since everything happened.

My phone dings, and I quickly reach for it. I roll my eyes and sigh when I realize it’s not Vinnie. Every single time I check my phone, I’m hoping it’s him but it never is anymore. It’s getting to the point that I don’t even anyone else to text me or call me because it just gets my hopes up.

“I should just throw this stupid phone away,” I say to myself while opening the message.

Liza 6:45pm

Hey, are you coming over tonight?

Y/n 6:46pm

Yeah, what time should I be there?

Liza 6:52pm

Around 8 is fine. Are you ubering or driving?

Y/n 6:54pm

Ubering. I plan on getting wasted tonight lol

Liza 6:56pm

Hey, whatever makes you happy! Lol

I eat real fast then head upstairs to take a shower and start getting ready. Once I’m done I head back downstairs to get my stuff together and order an Uber.

“Oops forgot something,” I say to myself, then run back upstairs to spritz a little bit of that Daisy perfume Vinnie likes. Just in case.

Not long after, the driver arrives and takes me to their house.

I don’t see Vinnie’s car in the driveway as we pull up, which is an immediate hit to my slightly hopeful mood. I sigh, and get out of the car.

“Thank you,” I say, shutting the car door. I walk up to the house and head inside. Plenty of people are here, as usual.

“Hey!” Liza is the first to greet me.

“Hey, Liza,” I say, smiling.

No Idea by Don Toliver just started playing through the speakers in the living room, which is one of my favorite songs. That lifts my mood back up a little bit.

“Do you want a drink now?” She asks.

“Sure, what do you have?”

“Uh, we have white claws, Coronas, tequila, and some fireball.”

“You already know I want the tequila,” I smirk at her.

She laughs. “Over there,” she points to it.

I walk over and grab one of the little plastic shot cups and open the tequila bottle, pouring a shot while moving my head a little to the music.

Jett walks up from behind me.

“Hey, Jett,” I say softly, smiling.

“Hey, y/n.” He smiles back. Luckily Jett seems to have handled the whole situation well, and we’ve talked often since everything happened. He did what I did and got himself into therapy pretty much right away. No reason to go through something like that and not accept support to deal with the emotional aftermath.

“How are you?” I ask.

“I’m as good as I can be. Not too bad,” he says opening a beer. “How are you?”

“I’m alright,” I say shrugging and walking over to the fridge to get a sprite as a chaser. I pop it open and take the shot, then drink the sprite.

“Bleh,” I say, shaking my head. “I never get used to that.”

Jett and I both laugh. “Yeah, me either,” he says.

Jack comes over and asks Jett some question about his car that I didn’t understand so I took the opportunity to walk away. I love Jett but I’m already feeling antisocial. It’s gonna be a long night.

I head toward the bathroom, which is already occupied. I sigh as I wait outside the door. People keep passing by me the in the hallway, giving me a pitiful little smile. Like they feel bad for me for what happened. I don’t know why but I fucking hate when people pity me.

I smile back at everyone sarcastically as they pass by. That 1 shot already has me feeling some angst. I need to get to a place by myself ASAP so I head back down the hallway I came. As I turn the corner, I accidentally bump into someone.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I grab the person’s arm, looking up at them.

It’s Vinnie.

[overtures-and-anxiety-32]

Hello darkness my old friend.

I haven’t been here in awhile. I also haven’t felt this terrible in a long time.

Tonight I had a breakdown and almost called a crisis line. I didn’t because I was afraid that since I’m having serious self harm urges they’d contact police/paramedics and have me hospitalized and let’s be honest. I don’t have time for that.

I am over three years and nine months clean from self harm and I came really close to ruining that tonight. Not only was I digging my nails into my hand and holding ice cubes to feel the burn. But I was annoying my cat to make her bite and scratch me. I grabbed her feet and tail and rubbed her stomach. So she would bite my hand and scratch me. Because I needed to feel pain but felt shame in inflicting it on myself. Ultimately my cat is very good and don’t bite or scratch me as hard as I wanted. I was so frustrated and mad that my cat wouldn’t hurt me. I’m sick.

I am so stressed about my next round of vet school exams. I feel completely unprepared and like I am going to flunk out of school. I am exhausted and can’t focus or retain information. I have a lot of very long days ahead of me with classes and labs. I don’t have the energy to study as much as I need to and I don’t know what to do. I feel like a failure. I hate myself so much.

I miss my therapist so much. Marlena was amazing for me. I made so much progress and was able to talk about to it ally difficult topics. Now I have to start all over with someone new and it’s so hard. And I had an appointment last week but my next one isn’t for a month. I’m not going to last a long without talking to someone. I can’t talk to my girlfriend because she has so much on her meds late already and I can’t make her worry. My mom is not even an option when it comes to self harm urges. And I feel like a burden even thinking about talking to my friends about it. I don’t know what to do. I can’t stop crying as I type this out. I need help and I have nobody. I know I would feel so much better if I cut. I haven’t had such bad urges in so long. Probably over 2 years. I feel so broken and worthless. This sucks.

[selfmadesuperhero]

i’m very much not okay 

and i’ll probably take very long for me to explain why

i don’t know how to write this. i don’t know where to even start. i’m here because i just don’t have anywhere else to go. i can’t afford therapy. i no longer have any close friends other than Mabu (gf).

it’s getting pretty bad inside my head

i know most people’s lives are hell this year and i’m not special. i know that. to me, this year is feeling like the last nail in my coffin because 2019 had already chewed me up and spit me out. 

i kept my last job for eight years. after my first year there, another developer came in, and we became friends. we worked side by side less than 4 feet apart for six years. our hours were flexible but we always agreed upon our schedule just so work would be more bearable, because we both hated it and often had to team up against our boss’ downright abuse. it was a very small company (at its biggest we were only 7 employees). we were also going to graduate at the same time from the same school (different majors), so we had a bit of a pact to leave our shitty boss once we’d graduated and start developing our own, way less shitty games.

at the start of 2019, he got an excellent job offer. i was thrilled for him and told him to of course get out of that hellhole we hated so much, we were only there because the pay was decent and the hours were flexible so we could get our degree, you know? it stung, but i was happy for him. on the last day i gave him a ride home (which is also something i did almost daily), he surprised me by hugging me and telling me i was like a brother to him and our plans weren’t going to change. 

i believed him, and went back to work. he was soon replaced, obviously, by a junior developer because that’s how capitalism works. but suddenly, i no longer had someone to take a stand with me against my boss - there was no one left that i knew, everyone had resigned or been fired and i was the oldest employee. you’d think that’d earn me something, after eight years being dedicated to the same company, right? 

(shortly after, my grandma passed, after years and years of agonizing in a wheelchair. we lived together)

fuck that

the first months were fine. i was being the senior developer and teaching the junior constantly, so my boss stayed out of my way. but see, this is where he started to get ansty. the more the junior stopped being a junior and was actually useful for something, the more that piece of gigantic ass just started thinking only about our salaries. i started in that company in 2012 making little more than 3 bucks/hour (remember i live in a third world country, but it was still specialized work), but by 2019, my salary was pretty much double of what the junior was making, and every penny extra i got during those years was a CONQUEST. i also worked six hours while he worked eight, so.

my boss basically started treating me even more like shit. he wasn’t nice to be around before, but he was bearable in small amounts. suddenly it was obvious to everyone that he was really fixating on me and my performance, and to me it was obvious he just wanted me to walk away too so he could replace me with TWO junior developers instead of just one measly charlie. 

then, the nationals elections began. oh boy.

this probably wouldn’t read as news to anyone, but i’m a huge leftie, obviously. if you’re at all interested in politics, read about what socialist policies have done for uruguay during the past 15 years and how they turned us into AT LEAST a developing country, but i digress. 

the people that sat in my office even shared my political views or whatever, but my boss is actually part of the conservative party and started actively campaigning. every time something involving politics happened, he made a point to come barging in the office and telling me and specifically me about it like i was personally running against his party. i actually recorded him once to have proof of him at least screaming at me, so i could check if i was crazy for thinking he had something against me. he frequently called me communist and just mocked my views. if you’re wondering, yes, this is illegal, but nothing happened. 

then, two big things happened at once: we lost the election, and my recently adopted puppy was diagnosed with distemper. yes, it happened on the same that and it’s a day i’ll never forget. 

my girlfriend and i had talked about getting a puppy once we moved in together. we’d named him like two years before it actually happened. we moved in together on may 2019 and on september i found the most precious boy for adoption on facebook and i was innocently all like “oh i’ve had to put rescue dogs for adoption before, let’s give back!”. 

on october 27th, he had a seizure and the vet told us it was likely we’d have to put him down because only 20% of dogs survived, and it was even less for puppies. 

when i went to work, i had to put up with my boss laughing and mocking me for winning the election “against me”. i guess i missed my running for anything?

this post is already too long for me to get into details about my dog’s disease. for months, every day we looked after him constantly. i read everything there was to BE READ about distemper online, spent thousands of pesos on medicine and treatments just in case he had a chance. good news is he did! this is the only positive note in this post. 

it still wasn’t easy. he made us cry at least three times a day. we really thought he was dying, and we’d made the mistake of naming him 2 years before he was even born. we’d taken PERFECT care of him while he was unvaccinated, but the vet told us it was most likely he was already infected before he came home to us. i’d never seen such a small puppy so sick. he hallucinated constantly. if you don’t know, distemper is a neuro/digestive/skin/bone/HELL disease that’s really nasty. he’d have seizures almost daily and poop and pee himself. he stopped being able to control his body other than his two front legs, which he didn’t even have full control of. when he stopped being able to walk, he started crying constantly, it really tore the heart out of my chest

we called another vet, a dog physical therapist, so she’d tell us how we could help him. she told us to make him stand as long as possible, so every time he had a meal, i’d bend down with him and hold his hips - so he’d be able to stand, and slowly gain back some muscle mobility. every day we massaged his legs and flexed his joints, even his tiny toes, so he’d avoid atrophy. and we did it!! as i’m writing this, he’s one year old now, he’s no longer sick even if he’ll carry with him plenty of lifelong sequels, and he walks and runs and barks like the best of them ♥ i wasn’t going to plug anything but if you wanna see his progress, it’s on instagram @hamiltonthefighter

okay, i guess i ended up talking at length about his disease in the end, sorry. his walking again had a price to pay for me: my own back. for two or three months i was bent over this dog, you know? i still can’t get out of bed without help sometimes lol around december it got really bad but i just kept popping pills because joy oh joy, i was doing my thesis and i didn’t really have time or money for anything else. my job was basically paying for our rent, my university classes including the thesis course which was ridiculously expensive, and our dog had given me credit card debt out of desperation (we even had to buy those rubber things used for yoga to place on our floors so he’d have something to use his nails against instead of constantly slipping on the floor, we tried every medication that might help, we gave him CBD oils, all kinds of vitamins, constant vet visits where during the first two weeks he got like three different shots every day, etc)

i’m rambling, and i’m sorry, but i don’t really think anyone will read this. i started this post crying my eyes out and writing about my dog at least has been calming, because even if he’s a drooling mess now, he’s still the same he ever was and i love him very much and he’s sleeping soundly next to me and he’s finally close to fine. 

remember the friend i talked about like half an hour ago? the one that worked with me for six years? nothing changed between us during the first months. for my thesis, i was going to develop a videogame with Mabu, but we were allowed to have external coding help because it was about GameDev, not the actual coding. i knew how to code, obviously, but Nico (the friend, guess we’ll give him a name) was also part of our project so he was gonna help us code so i had more time to focus on art and 3D modelling. the idea was kill two birds with one stone, make something we all liked, mabu and I were going to graduate with it and then we’d keep working on it during 2020 as we’d always always talked about.

by december, even if nico and i still talked regularly, i could tell he had just moved on with his life. he’d said he’d help us, but he was doing his own thesis, so i told him not to worry at that time, our final due date was in february. he asked us to forgive him during december and promised us he’d come back in january to DEVOTE himself to the project. i started coding the project besides working on the art and i was thankfully able to meet all the deadlines, so it was really fine, of course i understood where he was coming from. 

then, on january 7th, Mabu’s grandma passed away. she was scheduled for a heart surgery that supposedly only had 1% risk, and she passed on the table because of a doctor’s mistake. the surgery was here in the capital, but Mabu’s family lives five hours away. she comes from a very big, very loving family, and her grandma (being the mother of five children) was very much the center of it. i also loved her. she’d replaced my grandma the second she passed and every time i saw her she hugged me like i was a lost grandson. 

when my girlfriend called me during her surgery, i immediately left work because i just knew she would be crying if things were okay. this was a nightmare come alive for a family of 20+ people, and most of them were 5 hours away from their own house. my mother in law was (and still is) devastated by the lost of her mother because she was the one to encourage the surgery and she still thinks she killed her. i drove my her, my girlfriend, her sister and her sister’s boyfriend on my mother’s in law van for five hours while they all cried or slept and i had to really, really pinch myself because i was EXHAUSTED but what else could i do? 

logically i missed work the next day. LOGICALLY. i had the service to attend and i was 5 hours away from the office and i didn’t even have my own car with me. i told my boss to discount the day, since i wasn’t entitled to the mourning day by law because it wasn’t my grandma. he didn’t even reply - he almost never talked to me by this point unless it was to berate me for something. i went back to work the day after the service.

now, remember we were doing our thesis and it was due in february? it really wasn’t great timing for anyone to die, but i was trusting Nico’s promise that he’d have more free time and he’d make up for not helping us code sooner. i told him the news about Mabu’s grandma, and then basically had to tell him to say something to her for her loss because he was supposed to be her friend, what the fuck, why aren’t you at least sending her a text.

let’s just say, january wasn’t a great month for Mabu and myself. two weeks after the passing, we still hadn’t had news from Nico. Mabu didn’t even have time to properly mourn because we had to turn our thesis in like, little over a month. i wrote to nico just downright ASKING if he was gonna be able to help us or WHAT, to which he said to me...

he’d never promised anything because he was really busy with his own stuff and he didn’t want to bring it up sooner because he knew Mabu was mourning and things were hard for us at the moment? 

like that’s great pal, thanks for telling me at the last POSSIBLE second you were just dropping out altogether, what the actual fuck? it still baffles me that someone can be so thick headed, but he kept saying he had made no promises and both Mabu and I knew that was a lie and i honestly just couldn’t deal with someone so selfish he couldn’t at least give a heads up sooner

the icing on the cake during the beginning of this year is someone i haven’t even mentined: MY PIECE OF SHIT BROTHER. talking about him may deserve another post, because this is already so long and convoluted and i haven’t even talked about his involvement in my misery during 2019-2020. i’ll try to make the story short if anyone’s still reading this far: 

a lot of years ago, our maternal grandmother moved to uruguay from russia and bought a tiny shitty house here next to my mother’s. my mother still hasn’t talked to me since 2013 because i’m trans, but that’s neither here nor there. i tried to keep in touch with my brother (we don’t share dads so he was no relation with my side of the family), and around 2017 i finally succeeded in making friends with him. or so i thought, clearly. 

that grandmother passed... sometime. i don’t really know because they cut me off. she didn’t speak to me either, she was literally a crazy old nasty woman and i didn’t even care when i heard she’d died, to be honest. she was such a nasty woman, she’d put her tiny shitty house to my and my brother’s name just to keep her own daughter out of the inheritance when she bought it. 

that also meant i was inheriting something for the first time ever, even if it was shitty. BUT my brother had his own fake grandma (the woman who looked after him his whole life instead of our mother) who was very old and frail and asked me if he could house her there. i said yes because again, i didn’t give a shit about the inheritance or the house or anything regarding my mother’s side of the family (other than him obviously), so for years this woman occupied the house. my brother basically took all existing furniture and appliances because he was moving in with a girlfriend and i even loaded up my shitty car with his stuff. all i wanted to inherit was the couch set, which had come all the way from russia and everyone had promised me since i was a wee lad, but he started whining about his fake-grandma not having a living room set and nowhere to sit and i didn’t even live by myself yet so i let them have the fucking couches, too. 

oh boy this is already too long but now i’m too lazy to make a separate post

anyway, sometime during 2019, the woman moved out to an old folks home because she could no longer take care of herself. i immediately asked about the couch set with hope in my heart that it could finally be mine, but my brother told me our mother didn’t want me to have it. 

he wanted to rent the house to make a profit, which sounded good to me because of that dog related credit card debt i talked about. and here’s where you might think i’m not that there in the head, but all my life i didn’t want anything to do with that house until my mother was in the ground - not out of hate but because i thought it was a shitty thing her own mother had done to her, and the inheritance should have been hers. she doesn’t have a degree or a stable job because she’s a russian translator so hey, whatever, they needed it more than i did. but then my brother starting getting ideas about improving the house so we’d make more money, and how we should do it together, and... i think i might have mentioned already why i didn’t exactly have time to redo a house? i was doing my thesis? about to graduate? my boss was constantly on my case? my dog was about to die? 

i helped as much as i could at first, but then december came, and then january, and my brother just kept nagging me about the house like i was purposefuly sitting on my ass doing nothing, because oh every day it’s not rented it’s money lost. no amount of explaining how stretched thin i was seemed to suffice, not even when mabu’s grandma died and nico left us hanging with the thesis and i had less than a month left to code the whole project by myself while ALSO taking care of the art. 

by the end of january, i was so stressed, i called a doctor after a panic attack. he gave me a weeks rest because of my back, because i wasn’t even able to get up without help at that time. it wasn’t much of a rest because i still used that time to sit at the computer and code 15 hours a day at LEAST, but hey. 

it was the first time in 8 years i’d taken medical leave of ANY kind. i didn’t even get medical leave when i got my chest surgery. it happened on a friday and i was back to work the next monday. i’d never skipped more than 2 days of work at best when i had a bad case of the flu or something, but that was it. 

when i went back to work, my boss immediatelly called me to his office. he started berating me about my performance again, bringing graphs comparing the amount of lines of code i’d written next to my coworkers. i didn’t mention this, but the graphic designer had also quit during 2019, so i was also covering that workload and no, that didn’t exactly translate to lines of code. i also had to spend HOURS every day tutoring the junior because he was too much of a cheap shit (didn’t use those words) to hire an experienced developer. i’d even WORKED AS A GRAPHIC DESIGNER FOR MEDIA CONTENT FOR HIS POLITICAL CAREER, EVEN IF IT WAS AGAINST MY BELIEFS AND NOT AT ALL RELATED TO MY JOB. he denied everything. EVERYTHING. he stuck to the narrative that i was just lazy and the proof was i’d just taken AN ENTIRE WEEK because “my back just hurt a little” and i had the audacity to skip work for someone else’s grandmother dying

i’m not exaggerating, i swear to anyone who might be reading this. that day was brutal and i’m still not over it half a year later, i don’t care if that makes me sound like a wuss. i worked eight years of my life in this fucking place. 

this argument lasted for hours, but i kept my head down because i couldn’t afford to lose the job, specially not then. i even apologized for any loss in performance and tried to explain my point of view and what i was going through (which i’d already done to another superior weeks ago anyway). but just when i thought i’d MAYBE be able to keep my head above water, he told me he was denying my the request i’d made to take two weeks of holiday days before the thesis final due date. 

i had already explained everything to him. everything, even nico dropping the team and my having to do everything by myself. i broke down and i told him he was forcing me to leave my job, i’d just have been certified by a doctor and i was asking for leave for SCHOOL (all things that are protected by law here), but he just kept repeating i could either walk away from my job or show up during those two weeks. he just wanted me gone, but he couldn’t fire me right away without having to pay me THOUSANDS because of my seniority (by law). he knew what he was doing to me and he didn’t care about it. he didn’t even let me TOUCH MY COMPUTER, he told me he wasn’t the one pushing me away, that i was doing this to myself, and he’d ask for a lawyer to check my computer for any “inconsistencies in my activity”, even. i really have a hard time just thinking about that day and how utterly humilliating it was. i lost a lot of personal files, because i sat at that desk for eight years and of course i had personal files because sometimes i stayed after hours before going to class. 

imagine for a second a sixty year old man, rich as shit, political candidate, standing in front of a computer, disconnecting the mouse and keyboard so i couldn’t touch it, yelling at me i was doing this to myself and i was losing my job because i had the audacity to ask for two weeks leave to finish my fucking school thesis. 

and yeah, i lawyered up. i didn’t have actual money to AFFORD a lawyer, but mabu’s cousin’s girlfriend was a lawyer and lived one block away and i immediatelly told her everything there was to tell. she brought me to the firm she worked in and they guaranteed me i had a pretty strong case and i was at least gonna be able to walk away with something.

that put things in hold for a while because the “trial” or whatever wasn’t gonna be held until after the thesis, so i tried to forget about it. my boss even owed me my untaken paid vacation days, which i told the lawyers because i was pretty sure he’d just forgot, but i wanted to know if it made a better case against him. they agreed, and i left it at that. 

but you know who was still making my life miserable even when february began and i had less than three weeks to finish our project right? MY SWEET BABY BRO. he was constantly nagging me about having to do all the work himself, like I’D ASKED ANYTHING FROM THAT HOUSE TO BEGIN WITH. but see, the nastier he started getting, the more apparent his lies began to appear. he got nasty to the level where ON THE DAY I WAS TURNING THE PROJECT IN he kept calling me demanding MONEY for stuff he’d paid for the house without checking in with me. i was honestly baffled by his level of selfishness, i was already sleeping three hours a day tops and he expected me to what, paint walls? he was FIERCELY against having to wait for my project to be done even if it was two weeks away and he was asking and asking for money when i’d just told him i’d lost my job without a penny to show for it. nice guy, really. 

suddenly, the following lies became clear: 

 my mother didn’t care if i took the couch set, he told me that because he was moving again and he was planning on taking the couches himself. (he ended up doing just so, too). he lied to me with the thing that hurts me most in the world: my mother hating me. he had even made a joke about it, because my mother had bought a new couch not long ago, and he didn’t “get” why she “didn’t want me to have anything”

 years ago he’d told me he had refinanced a tax debt the house had, and i gave him money for it. now that the house was about to be put up for rent, he pretended that had never happened and suddenly started talking about how we needed to take care of that

 he wasn’t planning on splitting the rent three ways between him, our mother and i. he was gonna keep two thirds, and i later even found out my own mother had given him the idea. 

 then poor mabu confessed to me once, two years ago, she’d wore a skirt one time visiting my brother and his then girlfriend, and he had told her nasty stuff to her year upon saying goodbye and she had never said anything because didn’t want to hurt our sibling relationship 

talk about final nail huh? 

i confronted him and he denied everything, obviously, he instantly played the victim card, how dare i think that way about him, how dare i break his dreams of reuniting the family again. he said things to me i’ll also never forget like, apparently, it shows that i’m a shit person because i have no friends and no one wants me around, unlike him that has so many. he told me i thought the world owed me when i was shit and i believed anything anyone told me before believing him. no one told me any of his lies, i caught them all by myself, but whatever. he cursed me and told me he never wanted anything to do with me because i was rotten and i only cared about money and i was so so selfish. this must have been around march and i still don’t know anything from him, or care.

what do i have to do for that side of the family to leave me alone, i wonder? all i ever wanted to do was be his friend

the “trial” against my boss came and suddenly every lawyer that worked at that firm was taking a fucking holiday except for the one that was supposedly leading my case - except suddenly, i didn’t have much of a case at all. i walked away with less than 2 thousand dollars and that was WITH the vacation days i hadn’t taken. the agreement was the lawyers were gonna keep 25% of however much i made but THAT vacation money wasn’t supposed to count because it didn’t come out of the “trial” thing, you know? 

well, it did. the lawyer screwed me over too. but hey, at least he’d gotten me unemployment for a couple of months (you only apply for unemployment if you’re fired, not if you walk away from a job, and my having been fired or not was what was being contested), i still tried to be optimistic, i had a few months to figure things out while i looked for another job, and at least i was able to finish paying for school with that money.

yeah, this was late february, beginning of march. joke’s on me for being optimistic at all

my own brother plotting with my own mother against me has done a number for my mental health. i already had baggage aplenty, like every trans dude or girl whose parents would rather see them dead than be a dyke/fag (my mother’s own words, ladies and gents)

my boss of eight years kicking me to the curve at the worst moment in my life in the most humilliating of ways while blaming me for it has left me feeling so worthless to people in general. i’m getting better with time, i think, but i’m still all not there. i have a really hard time thinking my work is worth anything at all.

i keep thinking my brother was right, and i’m a shitty friend, and i don’t deserve anyone around. my only real friend at the moment is my girlfriend, which makes it really hard to have any arguments because i start feeling like my life is ending because she’s pretty much all i have left and she’s the most important thing in the world to me because i wouldn’t have survived all this shit i’m writing without her by my side. i would walk to hell and back for her. but nico also left me behind without a second thought, after telling me i was like a brother to him, no matter how many times i invited him to hang out or anything to keep in touch. i’ve been a shitty friend to a lot of people, but not him, and he still didn’t care about me at all, so i just stopped trying. 

but now social distancing has got me all fucked up. i can’t trust people. i can’t go outside. everything is scary to me, i have at least two or three panic attacks per WEEK and they get nastier and longer every time. i know i need help, but i can’t even afford rent, let alone therapy. Uruguay has the worst unemployment rates since 2006 now thanks to our baby-Trump right now. i look for jobs daily even if the notion of having a job even SIMILAR to the one i had before gives me the shakes. programming isn’t as hard as some people may think, but the workplaces are usually VERY toxic because you’re valued by the amount of lines of code you write, and i’m so so tired. i’m still looking because I NEED. TO. PAY. RENT. but not because it’s something i want in life, at all. i’d much rather be poor and just do freelance work instead, but i’m failing.

i thank the people that have helped me or commissioned me these past few months from the bottom of my heart. i’m sorry i’m not more active, i’m sorry i’m still rusty and can’t draw faster, i’m sorry i sometimes spend half a day crying my eyes out because i just don’t know how to move forward. i have a week left, i still haven’t made enough for rent, let alone the bills or food. mabu used to get plenty of art commissions on etsy, but she hasn’t sold anything since march either and she’s younger than me so our financial struggles have an even deeper impact on her

i’m just so, so tired. i’m lucky to have mabu, and that is about it. i honestly don’t think i could have survived this year without her. for months the future has looked like a black screen to me. i can’t even trust the vegetable market in front of my fucking house because some piece of shit spread the rumor that i’m trans and now i can’t even open the door to my front house without getting stares sometimes, it’s ridiculous. i wish i could trust more than one person in the world so that everything wasn’t on her shoulders.

i’m not okay. we’re not okay.

that’s about it. i’m sorry i can’t end this on a more positive note. at least we graduated with an excellent score. not that we had a graduation, obviously. thanks corona.

thank you for reading if you read this far ♥

[skelebonecentral]

Hothouse Rose chapter 2

more with the skele sweeties (lust boys show up next chapter i promise)

words under the cut

Sans…felt better.

Therapy worked, who knew? Well, Toriel had been telling him to go, Alphys had, too, and he finally listened because he just couldn’t lose Papyrus.

The therapist was nice, he’d done a lot of research before choosing one, and they listened. He wasn’t usually as talkative, but if you don’t talk to a therapist, they can’t help. So he talked.

About losing their dad, about raising Papyrus by himself, about running six jobs just to keep the rent on the house up and let Papyrus continue training for the guard. About feeling de ja vu for months at a time and not being able to fix the machine that would maybe bring their dad back and having the burden of knowing he had the knowledge to help others but was so incompetent he couldn’t. Then there was acting as the Judge of the underground. That was a whole other thing that he hadn’t even told Papyrus about.

But it felt good to finally spill all the secrets that had weighed him down, especially knowing that nobody else would be told. He had more energy now, since he didn’t spend as much time on worrying. Well, that and the medication. A lot of healers from the underground had started working with humans to develop medicines that would be effective for monster patients, and he was using one of them. It was a real relief, not feeling like a weight was sitting on his head all day, or that he was the only one trying to help anybody.

Of course, having more energy made him work harder on things. His various jobs, his jokes, and working on the machine. It was actually nearly done, just needed testing, and it sparked a hope in Sans for the first time in a long time. Maybe he could do this. Maybe, now that his head wasn’t clogged with negative thoughts about the world and himself, he could fix this thing and bring back his dad. Would he be proud? Angry? He didn’t know.

He also didn’t realize the machine was in the ‘on’ state when he first plugged it in, and thus was utterly shocked when it sputtered and whirred to life…before violently exploding.

---

Normally, you’d be so happy about moving into a proper house this semester, and for the first few days, you had been.

But normally was not what was happening right now. Papyrus didn’t come to class for two weeks, and you were very worried.

You knew, from his texts, that he was okay, but it really didn’t make sense what he was saying.

“PLEASE GET MY WORK FROM CLASS FOR A FEW DAYS? SOMETHING VERY LARGE HAS HAPPENED.”

“HELP ME, PLEASE, THEY ARE ALL DRIVING ME UP THE WALL. LITERALLY, I AM USING BLUE MAGIC TO CLING TO THE CEILING AT THIS POINT TO GET AWAY FROM THEM ALL.”

“I HAVE TO MOVE HOUSE. WELL, TO BE ACCURATE, I HAVE TO MOVE MY STUFF TO A NEW HOUSE.”

Those were just some examples of the things he’d sent you, and you had been gathering the information for him on what had gone on during each of his missed lectures (at least the ones you had with him). Still, it was not like Papyrus to miss school, at all.

But at least your classes were not harsh on attendance as long as work got done, and Papyrus had been sending all his assignments in.

Finally, after almost another full week, you get a phone call, “Y/N! FINALLY! I’LL BE IN SCHOOL TOMORROW.”

“Thank goodness. What happened? I couldn’t piece it together from your messages,” you ask, very concerned.

“OH. WELL, IN SHORT, MY COUSINS APPEARED OUT OF THIN AIR AND ARE NOW LIVING WITH US. THAT’S WHY SANS AND I HAD TO MOVE, OUR HOUSE WAS GOING TO EXPLODE. THERE WERE ONLY THE TWO OF US, AND TWO TURNED INTO EIGHT, SO WE MOVED! WE’RE STILL CLOSE ENOUGH THAT IT’S NO TROUBLE FOR ME TO RUN TO SCHOOL, BUT WE’RE OVER IN THE…WELL, MY COUSIN SPICE CALLED IT ‘FANCY TOWN’.”

“You mean that edition on the west side with all the weird mansions?”

“YES! WE’RE IN A WEIRD MANSION THAT LOOKS LIKE A FRAT HOUSE. BIG COLUMNS, BRICK FRONT, COLONIAL LOOKING.”

“Okay. Wow, yeah, family emergency makes a lot of sense now that you say that. I’m just glad you weren’t sick or something, Papy. I’d be so lost without you.” You feel your face heat up saying it out loud, but it was true. These three weeks had been torment without his bubbly commentary and gentle pushing to do better.  Everything had seemed very empty without Papyrus around.

“Y/N, MY DEAREST FRIEND, I DO SECOND THAT, BUT ABOUT YOU!” you could hear him clicking a pen over and over on the other side of the line, and that told you he was anxious, “IT’S BEEN SO HARD TO KEEP MY PATIENCE WITH MY COUSINS WITHOUT THE BREAK GOING TO CLASS AND BEING WITH YOU GIVES ME. YOU JUST GET ME WITHOUT EVEN THINKING ABOUT IT. MAYBE…MAYBE I CAN COME OVER AND WE CAN DO THAT ALIEN WARLORDS OF JUSTICE MARATHON THIS WEEKEND?”

“Consider it done, Papyrus, I have missed you far too much to ever say no to a famous Papyrus sleepover. Do you want me to invite Frisk, too?” You just wanted to be with him again, no matter what form that took.

“YES! BUT ALSO NO. I THINK I WANT SOME ADULT TO ADULT TALKING TIME AWAY FROM THIS MAD HOUSE MORE THAN I WANT SILLY FRIENDSHIP DOODLES OR SOMETHING. I WANT TO RELAX, AND NOT WORRY ABOUT MISS TORIEL BEING ANGRY IF I MESS UP.”

Aw, Papyrus, the sweetheart. “Then just us, the show, and some popcorn and soda and maybe candy? Sound good?”

“I AM ALMOST CRYING I’M SO READY! I’LL SEE YOU TOMORROW?”

“Without a doubt,” you giggle, “Love you, Papy.”

“I LOVE YOU, TOO! BYE BYE!”

It felt good to say it out loud. You loved Papyrus, that was not in argument at all, and hadn’t been since the incident with Sans. It’d been more than six months now since then, and you’d actually gotten on good terms with the other brother. You’d hear his deep voice mumble something over the phone on occasion and Papyrus would begrudgingly tell you what Sans had said, and when you did occasionally run into Sans at one of his odd jobs (or on campus coming out of the science building) you’d engage in small talk and your mutual admiration of Papyrus.

You weren’t afraid of the little guy anymore (he was just as tall as you, but much smaller than Papyrus so he seemed small) and would actually tentatively say you were friends. You had his number now and occasionally would get jokes texted to you specifically about language. He seemed to have remembered you were in linguistics, and was making the effort to connect on that. You’d send him back gifs of skeletons doing weird things, and that seemed to go over well.

So now you weren’t surprised when you got a text.

Punny bones: no matter how kind you are, german kids will always be kinder.

You laugh and text back.

You: so I guess papy told you about the sleepover?

Punny bones: yeah. he yelled so loud everybody in the house heard him. did he tell u about the cousins?

You: just that they’re driving him crazy and he wants some time away. Hence accepting his idea about the sleepover.

Punny bones: heh. He needs it. hard to compress eight different personalities into one house, so this is good for him. remember to lock the door, though? plz?

You: 😊 yes sans~

It had really surprised you when he’d started ending his texts to you asking you to be safe and reminding you of small things, like smoke detectors and door screws. He had stopped being afraid OF you and started being afraid FOR you. It was kind of nice, even if you didn’t quite know what had happened in his mind to flip that switch.

He still would apologize to you on occasion for his initial behavior, and you had told him you’d forgiven him. You had, of course, because you realized you thought about doing a very similar thing when you found out some human child you didn’t know had started making friends with Frisk. To be fair, it’s because you’d seen their parents and they were rich, making them very suspicious to you, but it helped you realize Sans’ actions weren’t THAT outside the realm of normal thought.

Still, that was Sans. Your thoughts were more toward Papyrus at the moment.

You gave Papyrus a bear hug when you saw him the next day, and pretty much every morning thereafter until the weekend. This would be his first sleepover in your new house, and your plant-crazy roomie was out on a research trip.

“YES! WE WILL WATCH OUR WONDERFUL SHOW ON YOUR COOL TV AND RECONNECT PROPERLY!” he cooed as he set up his sleeping bag in the living room. “AH, I CAN’T EVEN TELL YOU HOW MUCH MORE COMFORTABLE I AM ALREADY JUST KNOWING I CAN SLEEP WITHOUT SIX OF MY COUSINS MAKING NOISE AT ALL HOURS!”

“Isn’t that all of your cousins?”

“YES!”

Ah you’d missed his jokes while he was gone. “Anyway, what do you want for dinner? We making it together or you want me to surprise you?”

“PLEASE LET ME MAKE IT WITH YOU! AND I’D LIKE SOME SIMPLE, HOME MADE SOMETHING OR OTHER. I’M SO TIRED OF THE TAKE OUT WE’VE BEEN EATING NONSTOP JUST TO KEEP US ALL FROM FIGHTING OVER WHO IS COOKING.” He did look tired, which was unusual for Papyrus, but you knew he’d perk up after a break.

“Okay, how about French bread pizza? I made the sauce for it yesterday since I knew you’d be over,” you headed to the kitchen and Papyrus followed, pulling his apron out of his inventory. It was pink and said “My kitchen, my rules” on the front in white letters.

“PERFECT! I WILL ASSIST YOU IN CUTTING UP THE TOPPINGS!” He had gotten a lot better at cooking since the two of you had first become friends, and now you more than trusted Papyrus to not turn your ingredients into confetti.

The evening was golden, just the two of you cheering for your favorite show, exchanging theories and popcorn, and diving into the lore on the internet afterward, in your room.

It was getting late, and you yawned, but didn’t move. You just…you wanted to stay up with Papyrus. You’d missed him so badly and it felt like you were being cheated out of time with him if you went to sleep.

But he noticed, as he always did, and asked, “FRIEND, YOU’RE TIRED. GO TO BED AND I WILL BE MORE THAN HAPPY ON MY OWN. I WANT TO EXPLORE YOUR NEW HOUSE.”

Running on fumes as you were, your next thought left your mouth before you could really think about it, “Only if you stay with me till I’m asleep.”

Papyrus looked at you a moment, a slow creep of orange blush creeping over his cheekbones, then said, “UM…Y/N, I’D BE HAPPY TO, BUT I’D FEEL BETTER IF I SAID SOMETHING FIRST. IS THAT ALRIGHT?”

“Y-yeah, of course.” You got up and sat on your bed, watching as Papyrus sat backwards in the computer chair you’d vacated.

“YOU KNOW, IT’S BEEN A FEW YEARS OF US KNOWING EACH OTHER, AND IT’S BEEN AMAZING.” He smiles but can’t quite look at you, “AND, WELL, IF I’M HONEST WITH MYSELF, AND I ALWAYS TRY TO BE! THEN I HAVE TO SAY I’VE GROWN TO COUNT ON YOU AS A STAPLE IN MY LIFE. YOU’VE HELPED ME FIND AN AVENUE FOR MY PASSIONS, BEEN A WONDERFUL FRIEND, AND HELPED SANS SEE HE NEEDED TO SEE SOMEONE FOR TREATMENT.”

You take his hand when he holds it out, and smile.

“YOU’VE DONE SO MUCH, ALL THESE LITTLE THINGS, AND….AND I’D REALLY LIKE TO ASK IF YOU WANTED TO TRY A GROWN-UP DATE. WITH ME.  N-NOT THE CUTE LITTLE TEENAGER DATE I PLAYED AT WITH FRISK, MIND YOU! SO…SO WOULD THAT BE OKAY? US DATING?” He had such a shy, nervous tilt to his smile, and you felt yourself tumble over the edge of affection as you squeezed his hand.

“That sounds fun, Papyrus. I’m very lucky if I get to call you my boyfriend,” you beam as you’re tackled onto the bed by a happy skeleton, hugging him tight as he nuzzles into you.

“NYOOHOOHOO YOU’RE TOO SWEET! MY DATEMATE! MY BEST FRIEND IN THE WORLD! I LOVE YOU!”

His teeth are tickling your neck and you wriggle, “Papyrus! I love you, too, but stooooooop, hahaha! You’re tickling meeeee!”

He gets up a bit and smiles, “SORRY NOT SORRY! BUT YES, NOW WE CAN CUDDLE WHILE YOU FALL ASLEEP AND THEN I WILL EXPLORE YOUR HOUSE WHEN I CAN’T FOLLOW YOU.”

You have to catch your breath, but your cheeks are burning while you scoot under your covers and hold them open for him. He slips in very gingerly and soon you’re bundled up to his chest. He’s warm, as always, and can’t seem to stop his million watt smile. You don’t blame him; it feels like there is a sun in your chest from the pure joy his question had brought to you. Papyrus was everything you’d ever wanted in a friend, and you can’t imagine ever having a life without him in it. It just seemed natural to date him, and clearly he felt the same about you.

Safe and happy, you fall asleep very easily in his arms.

--

Dating Papyrus was exactly the same as being his friend, except now you’d hold hands a lot more and occasionally he’d nuzzle his teeth to your forehead and go “MWAH!” very loudly.

Sans had texted you the morning after your sleepover.

Punny bones: congrats on being the new datemate

You just stared at it, then looked up at Papyrus (who had made you breakfast) who was blushing, “I’M SORRY! I WAS JUST SO EXCITED THAT I TEXTED HIM AFTER YOU FELL ASLEEP.”

Shaking your head, you’d just sent an emoji of sticking your tongue out to Sans.

Punny bones: aww u r shy~ Punny bones: he told me he was gonna ask you weeks ago. Punny bones: only like 2 days without you and he was ready.

“WHAT IS HE SAYING?!” Papyrus looked over your phone and groaned, and you’d had to nurse his bruised ego a little afterward because his big brother was embarrassing him.

Still, you were both happy that Papyrus was excited, and proud that Sans had bettered his thoughts enough to react positively to this news.

Understandably, you had Papyrus over to your house several more times, mostly to have private movie viewings rather like your first sleepover. It was just more your speed, and his, to have dates just be the two of you doing something fun. Of course, you had a few at Bungle Land, cause who doesn’t like cute clumsy cartoon parrots, and going to see premieres at the theaters or eat at a nice place, but the vast majority of your weekly official dates were spent in your pjs on the sofa with Papyrus curled around your body as you watched movies.

Sometime during your dating, your roommate moved out. She transferred to a college with a better botony program and more specializations for masters’ degrees, so you bid her a fond goodbye and kept in touch by text. Sure, you hadn’t been super close friends, but she’d still been a great roomie and had been all for your relationship with a sweetheart like Papyrus. It hit all those rom-com beats that made you both squeal happily.

He was a very physical person, Papyrus, so you got hugs often and he tended to just like holding you. It made you feel very good, even if sometimes you both ended up getting tangled because he was so long-limbed. Your hair was fascinating to him, and he’d stroke it gently when his hands weren’t otherwise busy.

“YOU ARE SO SOFT ALL OVER. IT’S VERY ATTRACTIVE! I’M JUST GLAD MTT PUT OUT SPECIAL CREAMS TO MAKE MY BONES MORE FLEXIBLE AND TENDER!” He said one night as you both were walking home from a musical at the campus theater.

You laughed, and he squeezed your hand gently, “You don’t need to be softer, Papyrus. I already adore your strong bones and the only part of you that is soft is your heart, and that’s the most perfect kind to have.”

“I DON’T HAVE A HEART THOUGH?” he acted clueless, and you smack his arm gently and get him to giggle as you caught him in his jest. “WELL I DON’T! I GAVE IT TO YOU!”

You gently tug on his scarf and he leans down while you get on your tiptoes, giving him a soft kiss on the teeth that makes him hum wistfully. Then you both flinch back as a siren sounds, a firetruck zooming from a corner nearby and down the street.

Looking up you feel your stomach drop as you see the smoke. “Papy, is that coming from my house?”

He picks you up and starts sprinting after the firetruck, you holding tight to his neck and praying you were wrong. But as the two of you ran up to the front of your house, you saw the fire department spraying water on your blazing home and police cordoning off the area.

“Oh no…” you felt your self start to shake, even as your vision tunneled.

Papyrus holds you tighter and you start sobbing, hiding your face in his shoulder as he murmurs, “It will be alright, Y/n. I’m right here. We’ll figure this out. Do you want to stay at a hotel tonight?”

“I don’t want to be alone,” you wheeze, out of breath from crying already.

“You won’t be.” He did not let you go, not even when the police came to question you two. He handled the answering since you were too broken to speak. Realizing there was nothing you can do to help them, the men leave you two alone, telling you to find a place to stay and they’ll call you when it’s safe for you to pick through the debris.

Papyrus calls Sans as he walks, easily holding you while using his magic to hold the phone close to his skull, “Sans, I’m staying with Y/n tonight. N-no no I’m alright, it’s just that…their house has burned down. No, we were out at the theater, remember? Right. Yes, I’m taking them ther- Oh. Yes, that’s probably best. Thank you, Sans.”

Sans appears and looks frantic, but seeing you both unharmed and soot-less, he relaxes a little, “heya, pal. stars, I’m sorry this happened. let’s use one of my shortcuts to get you to a hotel. long walk otherwise and you need rest.”

Papyrus keeps hold of you as Sans takes you both through a surprisingly short distance to…

“Oh, Mettaton’s hotel,” you manage to say, and Sans smiles up at you, clearly stressed from the tightness in the edges of his grin.

“felix is workin’ tonight, and he won’t ask rude questions. Specially if I’m here. just sit in the chairs and I’ll take care of this. least I can do for ya,” he was really searching your face, looking for any sign of more he could do.

“Thank you, Sans. Really I…I just want to go to bed.”

“that I can do. stay with them, pap?”

Papyrus has walked you into the lobby and sets you delicately in one of the plush magenta chairs inside, “THAT WAS THE PLAN, YES.”

“okay,” Sans gives your hand a supportive squeeze, sighing through his nose a bit, “hang tight, pal.” Sans takes care of everything, and Papyrus stays by you, getting out his handkerchief and drying your face for you. “THERE, DEAREST. WE WILL RELAX TONIGHT AND FIGURE OUT WHAT TO DO IN THE MORNING.”

You just nod, leaning into his touch gratefully.

--

The room is very nice, smelling of make-up and perfume, and the sheets on the single, queen sized bed are soft. You aren’t surprised when there’s two pairs of pajamas lying folded on the bed, after all, this is MTT’s place and he likes his guests to feel “SUPER FABULOUS, darling!”

“OH GOOD,” Papyrus smiles as he takes up one pair, “I WAS WORRIED WHAT WE WOULD SLEEP IN.”

You pick up your set, “I’ll change in the bathroom and you can use this room. I need to shower anyway.”

“TAKE YOUR TIME, LOVE,” he nuzzles you softly, “I WILL ALWAYS BE HERE, JUST TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.”

You kiss his cheekbone and head to the bathroom, running the water and finding your mind focusing on the taps. The temperature gauge has markers for “monster level cold”, “human cold”, “human hot”, and “monster hot”. You smile, turning them to “human hot” and stepping in after shedding your clothes.

The warm water helps ease your body, releasing the tension, but it also lets you sit on the provided ledge and cry. Your home is gone, you don’t know how much of your belongings survived the fire, much less the water, and you don’t know where you’re going to go.

After an unknown amount of time, you hear a knock, “Y/N? IT’S BEEN QUITE A WHILE. ARE YOU ALRIGHT? WELL, AS ALRIGHT AS YOU CAN BE?”

“I’m fine,” you call back. “Just lost track of time. I’ll be out in a moment.”

“OKAY. REMEMBER, I LOVE YOU.”

“I know, thank you,” you really appreciate the reminder. You aren’t alone tonight, and you aren’t unsupported. Papyrus will help you, and make sure things work out for the best. You get your bath quickly, the magic in the soaps helping you feel better before drying off on the warm towels and stepping back into your underwear before putting on the pajamas. It just felt weird to wear clothes without underwear, you don’t know why.

Papyrus is sitting in the bed, smiling at you as you come over in the soft, warm light from the bedside lamp on the near side. Climbing in next to him, you sigh, turning off the light before lying down and snuggling in close.

“You know I will do anything you need me to, correct?” Papyrus asks, whispering.

“I know, Papy. I’m really glad you’re here,” you cling to him, needing the comfort. “I just need you to be with me right now. I’ll tell you if I think of anything else.”

“Of course,” his ribs began to vibrate just a bit, and you smiled softly. That was his ‘purr’, that you had discovered on one of your first outings together. “Your wish is my command, Y/n. Goodnight, and rest well.”

“Night, Papy. I love you.”

--

It was three hours since Y/n had fallen asleep, and Papyrus felt secure enough in their continued rest to get up. Heading into the bathroom, he sat on the closed lid of the toilet and dialed the number of one of his cousins, who he was absolutely certain was up.

“Hello, Papyrus, dear! It’s good to hear from you,” came the cheery, energetic voice on the other end.

“HELLO CHARM,” Papyrus sighed, “DID SANS TELL YOU ALL WHY I WASN’T HOME TONIGHT?”

“No, but we’d hoped you and your lovely were together.”

“WELL, YOU’RE HALF RIGHT. I’M WITH THEM BUT NOT FOR GOOD REASONS. THEIR HOME HAS BURNED DOWN.”

There was a gasp and something rattled off a table, “Papyrus! Are they alright? Are you at the hospital?”

“NO, NO, NOTHING LIKE THAT. WE WERE BOTH OUT AT THE THEATER AND CAME BACK TO FIND IT ENGULFED. THEY’RE ASLEEP NOW BUT I NEEDED TO TALK TO SOMEONE AND YOU’RE THE MOST RELIABLE AND LIKELY TO STILL BE AWAKE.”

Relief, and a small laugh, “Oh, well, that makes me feel good. And good on you, staying by their side when they’re having a very bad experience. You’re a very good partner, if I may say so for them.”

That made Papyrus relax a little, smiling as he leaned his head on his hand, other knee jittering, “THANK YOU, CHARM. BUT WHAT I NEED TO TALK ABOUT IS WHAT DO WE DO FOR THEM? Y/N IS WITHOUT A HOME, AND WHILE I THINK I HAVE AN IDEA, I ALSO AM A LITTLE NERVOUS ABOUT PROPOSING IT.”

“Well, they can stay with us! They’re your partner, Papyrus, we aren’t going to be upset if you have them move in with you.”

His skull exploded in warmth and an orange glow, “CHARM! I-I WOULDN’T BE HAVING THEM IN MY ROOM! Y-YES, WE OCCASIONALLY SHARE, LIKE TONIGHT, BUT THEY NEED THEIR OWN SPACE. WE HAVEN’T….GOTTEN THAT FAR. RELATIONSHIPS MOVE SLOWER HERE, REMEMBER?”

“Oh. Sorry, dear, I forgot. Well, more accurately I was hoping to sort of push you because, GOODNESS, Cousin, they’re a catch and a half! But that’s not what makes you comfortable, and that’s okay.” A deep breath, and a more cheerful tone, “But we can always move Whip’s collection out of the room across from yours and have him put it elsewhere. That way they’re close to you, but you aren’t quite so…intimate.” He giggles and Papyrus can’t help joining as his nerves ease.

“AND YOU’RE SURE YOUR BROTHER AND THE OTHERS WON’T…BE OFFENDED?”

“No! No of course not, Papy, we’d do the same thing!” Charm scoffed then cooed, “No, my brother and I are all for helping the poor dear out, and you know Boa isn’t going to turn down a chance for someone to maybe befriend his brother. No, you tell them they’re more than welcome here, and if they decide to come, we’ll be there with bells on to help them get settled.”

“THANK YOU AGAIN, CHARM, I JUST REALLY…REALLY NEEDED SOME SUPPORT, TOO.”

“Oh cousin, what else is family for? We love you, so you try and relax with your lovely and I’ll talk to Boa so we can gang up on Whip and make him come around.” A laugh, teasing and very pleased, “Goodnight and good luck, Papyrus. Keep us posted.”

“I WILL. GOODNIGHT, CHARM!”

He hung up the phone and sighed, leaning back a bit. Thank goodness some of his cousins were relatively normal most of the time. Well, It was probably another five hours or so before Y/n would wake up, so now he had to occupy himself. Thank stars MTT rooms all came with bookcases full of Mettaton’s various memoirs!

---

It was hard to wake up, mostly because you thought you were at home at first before you opened your eyes.

Papyrus was sitting in a by the window, reading a book from the shelves in the room, and everything was ridiculously sumptuous and glittery. That pulled you out of your sleep and through confusion before landing on devastation.

“Good morning,” you say halfheartedly, and Papyrus looks up.

“GOOD MORNING, DEAR. I’M GLAD YOU SLEPT WELL, AS THE POLICE LEFT A MESSAGE FOR YOU A MOMENT AGO. I’VE ALSO BEEN LOOKING FOR OPTIONS FOR YOU TO STAY AT, BUT BEING THE MIDDLE OF THE SEMESTER, EVERYTHING SEEMS FULL UP. I ALSO EMAILED ALL OUR PROFESSORS, SO YOU HAVE AT LEAST THREE DAYS OFF CLASS TO DEAL WITH THIS. I’M AFRAID YOU’LL HAVE TO ASK IN PERSON IF YOU NEED MORE.” Well, your lovely skeleton had been quite busy, and helpful, as always.

“Thank you. I hadn’t even thought about class till you mentioned it,” you get up and sigh, not quite knowing what to do, “I guess I’ll just…go home? Maybe drop the semester and save up to try again?”

“NOT IF YOU DON’T WANT TO!” Papyrus blushed a little, “YOU DO REALIZE I HAVE A VERY LARGE HOUSE THAT YOU COULD HAVE A ROOM IN, RIGHT? WELL, SANS AND I HAVE A VERY LARGE HOUSE, BUT THAT’S SEMANTICS.” He was holding his own hands, head tilted slightly down so you knew he was looking upward at you, hopeful. “I CLEARED IT WITH MY MORE ENERGETIC COUSINS LAST NIGHT AND GOT A TEXT THIS MORNING THAT THE VOTE IS SEVEN TO ONE FOR YOU BEING WELCOMED IN.”

You really don’t want to cry but you can’t help it, and Papyrus moves to pull you back to sit on the bed with him. He holds you tight, “Papyrus, you’re just so good! I don’t…Are you sure?” You clung to the very soft fabric of his provided pajamas, “I don’t want to, to upset your cousins or overload your house.”

“OH, YOU WON’T. YOU’RE A WONDERFUL PERSON, AND YOU KNOW SANS AND I ARE IN YOUR CORNER NOW. I JUST KNOW YOU’D RATHER NOT WASTE THE TIME AND MONEY YOU SPENT THIS SEMESTER, AND GOODNESS KNOWS IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT YOUR HOUSE DECIDED TO INVITE FIRE OVER.”

That gets you to laugh through the tears, “Oh, I didn’t know my house decided to do that. I should complain to Grillby, then?”

“WELL, YES,” Papyrus gives you a squeeze and nuzzles your hair, “IT WAS VERY RUDE OF HIM TO WALK INTO YOUR HOUSE WITH HIS WHOLE FAMILY AND MAKE SUCH A MESS.” He laughs softly, too close for a full volume one, “OH, DEAREST, YOU REALLY ARE A WITTY ONE. NO, DON’T BOTHER THAT POOR MAN, HE ALREADY HAD TO DEAL WITH SANS AFTER ALL.”

The tears are drying as you continue to giggle, squealing when Papyrus turns your hug into a tickle fight that he obviously wins.

“HAHA! THE GREAT PAPYRUS WINS A VICTORY OVER SADNESS ONCE AGAIN!” he declares as he finally lets you breathe and hops up, “NOW, I HAD YOUR CLOTHES FROM YESTERDAY CLEANED BY THE COMPLIMENTARY LAUNDRY SERVICE, AND THEY’RE IN THE BATHROOM FRESH FOR YOU. W-WELL MOST OF THEM ARE FRESH; I COULDN’T,” he looks away and his smile gets wobbly in nerves, “I COULDN’T TOUCH YOUR UNDERTHINGS WITHOUT YOUR PERMISSION SO THEY AREN’T.”

You blink, then hold in a snort of laughter. “I forget monsters consider socks underwear. Oh, Papyrus, I love you so much. I don’t need them cleaned, don’t worry.” Getting up, you pull him down for a kiss on the cheekbone, “And you have my permission to touch any laundry of mine you like and move it if you see fit. I trust you to treat them kindly.”

He exploded in orange all over his skull, and you giggle as you head into the bathroom. You’d never ever get tired of him, your utter gentleman in shining cardboard armor.

--

Papyrus was more than eager on the bus ride back toward your home. He babbled about how you’d love his cousins, and that some of them were almost as cool as he was (you didn’t doubt that, but how?) But he also was fiddling with a notebook to have it ready to make a list of things you needed to replace.

That was going to suck. Going through the rubble was going to be awful. The message the police left said that they were working on determining a cause for the fire, but that they’d left a few things they’d found in a bin for you with the person guarding the site.

That person turned out to be Dogamy, a large, floppy eared dog monster with fur resembling a mustache on his upper lip and a very large axe,  and Papyrus ran over and got a hug. “DEAR COMMRADE! HELLO! IT’S SO NICE TO SEE YOU!”

“it’s good to see you, too, Papyrus.” He was wagging his tail and smiled, “I made sure nobody touched this place till you and your date got back. Now that’s done, though, so I do have to be off. Other places to guard, you know.”

“YES OF COURSE! THANK YOU ONCE AGAIN!”

You shyly echoed his thanks, and Dogamy nodded before running off quickly…on all fours. Oh.

Picking up the bin he’d left behind, you sighed. Scorched frames holding photos, a few plates and cups that happened to be ceramic, and what looked like your whole silverware drawer, sat in the bottom of it.

Looking around, your living room and kitchen were gutted, as was your roommate’s former room, and the wall that led to your bedroom. Papyrus helped you get the door open (it had warped) and you found a lot of water damage on the floor, but it was otherwise mostly intact.

Well, that was what you wanted to say, but you just knew you were in the realm of “nothing but the clothes on their back” (well, and the pajamas, those are included in the room fee) and it felt BAD.

Papyrus has his finger up to his teeth, one arm crossed over his chest and tapping his foot, “YOU KNOW, UNDYNE’S HOUSE BURNED DOWN ALL THE TIME UNDERGROUND. I KNOW JUST ABOUT WHAT CAN BE SAVED AND WHAT CAN’T, BUT I DON’T THINK I CAN DO THIS WITH JUST THE TWO OF US. WOULD YOU BE OKAY IF I CALL MY COUSINS AND GET AT LEAST TWO OF THEM DOWN HERE TO HELP?”

Staring at your bedroom, all the grime everywhere, you just nod.

Papyrus goes into a corner and holds his phone up, “CHARM? GET BOA AND HAVE SANS BRING YOU TO Y/N’S PLACE. HM? OH, YES, THEY AGREED TO MOVE IN.” He jumps a bit and you can hear cheering from the phone. You smile a bit; at least you know you’re wanted where you’re going.

[less--beans]

lihn asks: 2, 9, 14, 19, 20, 22, 27, 28, 39, 40, 47

2. Fav scenes?

can i just say the whole musical? i really want to just say the whole musical. i’ll not mention any scenes with songs, bc that’s a whole other thing, but i’ll pick a few (i said a few but it’s a lot more than that, i’m very sorry) top scenes. i’m pretty sure most ppl answer this with like 3 scenes but i’ve never been very good at picking so here, have 10. i’m going to make a list bc if i just put it all in a paragraph it would be way too long. 

-i love sheila and susannah’s first actual conversation. it’s funny how nervous and awkward susannah is, and how many questions she asks and weird things she says. i love how sheila just rolls with it, answering her questions and ignoring the weirdness. francis’ little interludes are funny and it makes my heart melt when sheila goes ‘but in the good way,’ especially after seeing that susannah believes francis and everyone else when they tell her she’s weird in the bad way, and i can’t help but die when i remember that sheila is probably the first person who saw how weird susannah was and didn’t insult her or act like it was a bad thing but instead just rolled with it. 

-it’s a short scene but i love when they’re teaching susannah how to smoke and she visualizes francis being torn apart. it’s the funniest thing. so short and yet so good. 

-another short yet awesome scene is right before the other one, when sheila spends a solid 20-30 seconds just staring at susannah and listening to her write songs. very gay. also, in the same scene, sheila listing what she likes and then adding that susannah’s interests weren’t too bad either. her acting like she usually does and just kind of putting down the other person’s interests a little before letting her walls drop and acknowledging susannah as a person was amazing. again with the walls dropped thing is her respecting susannah’s boundaries and not demanding to know who the letter was from. we love character growth. 

-yet another short scene is right before oh well when sheila’s kind of teasing her about the morse code thing and being like ‘you’re obsessed.’ it was hilarious. and then it kind of clicked in their heads with the nonsense syllables and the secret code and it was like they were finally on the same wave length. it was very very sweet. 

- i loved the scene where sheila got taken to solitary. phenomenal acting. my heart broke. i’ve watched it so many times and i love looking at various reactions of the girls (judith being victorious, sheila being hurt and scared and angry, dorothy in shock and still trying to comfort others, ya-ya collasping, kitty being angry and disappointed, rat just watching concerned and scared from the sidelines) as it all goes down. it’s painful and it was such a different ending to act 1 than i thought would happen just two minutes prior, and it’s a majorly emotional scene. 

-in the beginning of act 2, she’s like ‘no, this is my fault!’ and all the girls just agree with her, and then judith tells the history of harriet. i did not see her backstory coming at all. that part made me physically sick and very horrified. i didn’t necessarily like that scene, but i respect it bc of the acting, and the effect it had on me is proof that it was good. also, when kitty comes from judith and reveals that sheila took out her eye? that was the second huge revelation in the same scene and i had to pause it to process. plus, that was a sick burn. go kitty.

-the scene with kitty and susannah before masochist!! powerful, emotional, had me in tears. I adore kitty so much. some real stuff was said there, and i, as someone who is part of the lgbtq+ community, was really affected by that scene. also masochist, but again, we’re not going into songs right now. that’s a whole other thing. 

-i died when the music was building up and susannah was on the steps and she was giving her whole rousing speech and she finally admitted that she loved sheila. the music stopped, susannah stopped, my heart stopped, and the girls gave a wonderfully funny fake gasp. the girls’ reactions in that scene were impeccable and so hilarious to me, and there’s of course the fact that susannah, after stumbling over her words and feelings the entire show, finally admitted out loud that she loved sheila. not only that, but she did it in front of everyone. very big character growth, plus the growth of my heart as it swelled and burst in my chest. i loved it. 

-the transition of judith being like ‘there’s no way she just thinks the plumbing sucks’ to sheila loudly complaining about her hatred of the sucky plumbing was perfect. also, i can’t watch sheila’s slow realization of what’s happening without laughing. she’s such an idiot and i love her. her slamming her head into the pillow and slowly raising it up again as it sinks in? comedic genius. just the parallels of susannah being like ‘she’ll figure it out soon’ at the exact same moment sheila figures it out is amazing. judith going ‘i will happily eat my own sh-’ and then being cut off by sheila knocking back was hilarious, and kitty’s ‘do you want fries with that judith?’ was so iconic. 

-them being like ‘how are we going to do this??’ in the middle of the song and everything going dark and quiet for a few seconds other than that sign of ‘four minutes and 38 seconds later’ before going ‘that’s a great plan’ was so freaking funny. we’re going to skip the moment where sheila and susannah reunite for now bc i’m probably going to make another post about it and this post is already so long. also, i love how they outlined the plan as they put it into action. it was poetic cinema. perfect execution of one of my fav tropes and i really enjoyed it. 

9. Fav lighting moments?

I love the beginning transition where the lights flash and show the silhouettes of the girls, it’s so powerful. I also love the emphasis the lighting gives when it changes in the pre-reprise of teenage delinquent and also in susannah’s song reprise (basically whenever everything stops and susannah has a gay moment). the lights shining through the smoke to give the illusion of fire? amazing. that was exactly what the scene needed to take it from incredible to literal perfection. on that note, i liked the ghostly feel the lights gave as they shone through the windows once the girls were outside. lastly, i loved the lights in the end of teenage delinquent. that was a very emotional moment and the lights just added to it. 

14. A major(s) character you love?

I love sheila a lot. she’s so tough and yet so sweet. i first met her and i was kind of worried about if she was going to be one of the stereotypical mean tough girls, but she managed to be strong and kind, and it’s amazing. i love how she’s a little aloof and yet totally willing to take down anyone who hurts the people she cares about. she fights asp, buzz, and even judith, all bc they hurt her family. plus, that girl’s been through a lot. i’ve made a few other posts just based on what i got from the three failed escape attempts but i really feel sad for her and all that she’s been through. 

19. Fav (pre)reprise?

So we obviously have the oh well reprise when susannah is delivering the esp to sheila and that’s such an amazing one that always gets me. i’ve cried a lot at that scene. sheila smiling and trying to hide it while half-heartedly trying to get susannah to stop playing by warning her that she would get in trouble... ugh. my heart. another one that i really like, however, is when sheila and susannah first met. the pre-reprise of teenage delinquent gets me almost as much as the oh well reprise does. it’s so short, only a few lines, but we see susannah immediately fall for her. it’s so sweet and it sets everything up so perfectly, and i especially love the percussion. in the last line the drums kick in and crescendo and it’s just a masterpiece. 

20. Headcanon(s) for what happens before the show?

i’m very sorry to announce that i forgot who the creator of this (if anyone knows please message me!) but some created this amazing timeline. it’s phenomenal. i’ve pretty much accepted everything on that list as canon. 

22. Headcanon(s) for what happens between Teenage Delinquent and Finale?

judith definitely became a chill therapist. 100%. she keeps in touch with ya-ya and they try to arrange meetings every now and then. sometimes they see certain plays together. ya-ya went to hollywood with dorothy. she made it big in special effects, and dorothy prefers to act in smaller gigs in underground places. ya-ya helps out with dorothy’s plays sometimes. they share an apartment together. sometimes dorothy sees rat in the audience of her shows. she doesn’t question how rat knew where she’d be performing and she doesn’t question the money and cigarettes that are pushed into her hands after. she also doesn’t question it if rat ever shows up in need to stay for a few days. it happens every few months, and dorothy just makes sure there’s good food in the house and slips some money into rat’s things when she’s sleeping. kitty keeps in touch with susannah, and she attends all of susannah’s performances she can. susannah goes on tour with her band, and she could’ve sworn in their tour in hollywood she saw three familiar faces in the crowd. she’ll never know for sure though. sheila stays in mexico for a while before deciding to go back to the states. she doesn’t know what happened to francis. at the border she told him he was lucky she didn’t kill him and left on his bike, never to see him again. she traveled around the us with that bike, eventually deciding to visit hollywood. she saw a familiar name in an underground club and immediately went to the next showing available, watching with barely held back tears as dorothy starred in a play. she saw rat in the audience and ya-ya’s name credited in special effects, and she had to leave at intermission to keep herself together. she wasn’t sure how to approach them or what she would do or say, so she took off that night to keep the temptation away. she went all the way across the country to nyc, figuring it was about time she visited some old friends from mexico. she walked into a record shop to ask for directions and caught a thief stealing from the store a few minutes later. she walked in to return the record.

27. Teenage Delinquent or Revolution Song?

how am i supposed to choose?? from the moment i heard teenage delinquent pre-reprise i loved both versions. it’s such a pretty tune, and it’s so meaningful, and the emotion in it is so powerful. it makes me cry every time, and the end... wow. they’re gay and in love and i get very emotional about it. i absolutely love teenage delinquent. revolution song, however, was one of the first ones i ever heard and probably the one that made me watch the show. it’s so energetic and so great, and i cannot listen to it without wanting to start my own rebellion and take down some terrible patriarchal system. it’s constantly in my head and it’s so catchy and fun. plus, i love watching it in the show, and the girls throwing things and burning down the building is one of my fav things. i love both of these songs so much and i physically can’t choose which one is my favorite. 

28. Something you like/have noticed about the show that you haven’t seen anyone else mention yet?

both of these things are only briefly mentioned in the show but i’ve still never seen anyone talk about them. this show takes place over the span of only 17 days (excluding the finale, obviously). in the beginning, when susannah had just arrived, asp got the call about the interview and she mentioned it being in 17 days. a lot happened in 17 days, especially since they were locked up for 8 of them. all of the events of act 1 took place over 9 days at most, and probably less, bc we know sheila didn’t respond right away in solitary and we’re not sure of how much time passed until she did. that feels like such a short time span to me. another thing is that they’re on the fifth floor. i don’t know why this stood out to me, but it’s probably something to do with the fire. they would have lit the fire and gotten out really quickly. i feel like imagining them on the first or second floor is different than imagining them on the fifth floor for some reason, and i just felt like pointing it out. 

39. What got you interested in LIHN?

I was bored in between classes and so i watched a random youtube video of musical clips. there were three clips of lihn in there, and they interested me enough that i watched the entire musical a few days later. i immediately fell in love and i’ve watched it almost every day since. 

40. What does LIHN mean to you?

love in hate nation means so much to me. i absolutely love this show. there’s so much to think about and so much to build on. musicals are amazing bc there’s choreography and lighting and lyrics and sets and so many things with hundreds of little hidden messages, and deciphering potential meanings for those messages is so fun. this show is no different. there’s so many things to analyse, and it’s such a good show that i want to analyse everything about it. i can’t put into words how much i love this show. just know it’s a lot.

47. A single wish for the future of the show?

it says a single wish, but i have three, so i’m going to list them all. if i could only have one it would for sure be the first one. first and foremost, i want a cast album. goodness gracious, i want a cast album. so bad. second, i really want this to get to broadway. more people need to know about this show. it’s so good and it’s worth everything. i want this to get big. third, i believe joe posted something about a potential proshoot? i could be wrong but that would be amazing to have.

my grammar is terrible and this is so much longer than it should’ve been, so i’m sorry about that. thank you so much for asking!! it was really fun to answer these. if anyone wants to ask more questions, the link to the asks is here

[cherryfi]

Don’t Run From Me

Chapter 1: The Interview (2684 words)

A/N: Hello, Hello! This isn’t my first time writing fanfics but, it’s the first time I’m writing for ATEEZ! Please be kind! I’m thinking of making this a chapter series but, I’m kind of stuck on which chapter I should do next. Should I do what happens after the end of this one or should I do the reverse order -(like the first time you met Hongjoong).

T/W: Some cursing and kidnapping.

Enjoy!

2 years.

It had been almost 2 years since you’d finally let yourself settle down.

In your heart it felt like the right time to stop running. For that amount of time no one had come looking for you and nothing bad had happened ( short of occasionally seeing almost familiar faces while out and about in town or across the aisle when you were shopping), you were finally in a place where you felt like you could comfortably let your head rest.

You’d hopped around from motels to hotels at first, terrified to call family and friends because of the chance that Hongjoong would find you. But, as more time passed, you grew comfortable in the idea that he’d leave you be.

You were tired of sleeping on uncomfortable beds that you could never call your own.

Months on the run had made you crave home and that’s exactly where you went.

After the best part of a year you showed up on your mother’s doorstep, halfway across the country with only a backpack and the clothes on your back to your name.

She didn’t ask any questions, just welcomed you back home and over time, once you’d settled, you told her everything.

After many tearful conversations, where your mother told you how worried she was; not knowing where you were or if you were even alive and you told her how much you regretted leaving without telling her; you were closer than ever.

After countless sleepless nights, where you woke up scared that he’d found you , she recommended that you go into therapy. She was terrified of the trauma that you’d been through and how much its impacted you and after her ultimatum ‘Go to therapy or I’m going to the police’ you made yourself go.

The stability of being back at home with your mum and having a permanent roof over your head, coupled with your therapist helping you get through the last 3 years of pain and fear;  put you in a place where you were finally ready to take the last step in truly stabilising yourself: you were going to get a job.

You had spent the last 2 years working odd jobs, from run down diners to small hardware stores to gas stations – you were a ‘Jack of all trades.’

But, before all of that and before Hongjoong had come into your life, you’d been a full-time student who would do PA/ admin work part-time at a well-known company.

Even though you didn’t get to finish your degree, you still had the skills you’d learned in admin work behind you and you were going to sell yourself.

 That’s what bought you here.

Sitting in the lobby of an upscale office building; resumé and paperwork in hand.

‘Breathe’

You sigh deeply, shaking out your hands to relieve some of your body’s tension and reassure yourself yet again that you’re making the right decision.

You’d sign with an agency (on your therapist’s recommendation) and they’d sent you an ad for Tongyong; a small start-up company that was looking to expand.

The current CEO was in the process of gaining some middle/ top league clients and was on the ‘up and up’ , he was looking for a savvy, conscientious and hardworking individual to help him organise his time and schedules.

That was where you came in! You were all these things and more.

Funnily enough, they didn’t really care about years of experience, they were happy to train you up, in order to make you the best fit for them.

It was perfect.

You took the job listing and booked yourself in for an interview, hoping that you’d finally be able to complete your fresh start.

“Ms Y/N Y/L/N? They’ll see you in the office now. Follow me.” You smiled at the pretty receptionist, thinking that you might have seen her somewhere before but, not being able to put a name to a face and quickly got up.

Standing in the elevator with this woman, you couldn’t shake the trepidation that swept over you, almost freezing you in place.

The higher the elevator rose, the more anxious you became, and your mind was suddenly screaming ‘run’.

The phrase, ‘Into the lion’s den’ popped into your mind.

“We’re here. I’m sure you’re going to do great and I wish you the best of luck.” She smiled at you and opened the door, telling you to sit down.

He came in shortly after.

“Ms Y/L/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You nearly jumped out of your skin, nervously laughing as you got up to greet him.

“Yes, sorry. Hi Mr-“ You shook his gently as he apologised for frightening you, telling you his last name was Kim but, to call him Jiwon.

‘Who else do you know with the last name Kim, Y/N’ Panic flashes through you, white hot and you take another deep breath, quashing your anxiety.

‘Run Y/N’

 The interview was going well.

You were sat opposite of each other, a spotless glass table separating you.

You chatted nonchalantly about your previous experiences and what the company was looking for as well as what their mission was.

Jiwon spoke passionately about how Tongyong’s aim was to change the tech market and make it more accessible to everyone and how they were going to create luxury products with affordable prices.

He also spoke to you about what your work with the CEO would be like.

He made it clear that the hours were going to be long and sometimes unsociable but, you would be paid well for your time and it would be worth it.

Quickly, you found yourself excited to work for Tongyong; thrilled at being able to say you were there when the company was still small and renting office space, instead of building international offices.

You looked forward to the work that you would do, and you weren’t at all deterred by the long hours but, there was still a niggling fear that kept eating away at the back of your mind.

‘If this isn’t the CEO then, where is he?’

The small thread of doubt began to grow like a migraine behind your eyes and you had to calm yourself down, yet again.

‘We spoke about this in therapy Y/N, these things happen with trauma, you’re just paranoid’ Either way, with the fear looming over your head and your anxiety building, you had to ask:

“Um, will I be meeting the CEO today or is that a separate interview?” He smiled, leaning back in his chair and stretching his legs.

“Yes of course, how silly of me! I should have said at the very beginning! You’ll be meeting him after this interview. Don’t look so alarmed, he just has a few questions that he wanted to ask you. He’s a great guy and you’re interviewing really well.” He smiled reassuringly, looking at the shock written across your face.

Meeting the CEO would be a huge deal and, so soon?

Pre-interview jitters took over you again.

“I’ve only got one question left and then if there isn’t anything you want to ask me, we can wrap up and I’ll bring the other Mr Kim in.”

‘The other Mr Kim?’

“So, your resume looks great but, why the jump back into PA work? There’s a 2 year break here where you were doing hospitality and retail stuff intermittently, is there any reason for that and how has your situation changed to allow you to do more consistent work?”

‘I was on the run from my crazy-ass, murderous ex’ You shook your head, physically shaking the thought away and gave a thoughtful answer.

“I had a personal issue that meant that I needed jobs that offered flexibility. So, I was working at different places for short periods of time because that was the best that I could do given the rigid schedule at home. My situation has changed now, and I no longer have the same commitments that I did before. This means that I’m now able to jump back into full time work.” He nodded to your answer, jotting down notes on his copy of your resume. You almost high-fived yourself on a job well done.

“Perfect. Have you got any questions for me?” You thought quickly,  remembering that it’s always important to have questions ready for your interviewer and you wanted to see if he’d offer up any more info on the other Kim.

“What got you into Tongyong?”

He gave you a short answer about his love of tech (which you could tell from how passionate he was before and how he and Mr Kim were good friends so, he trusted in his vision.

He was about to continue when there was a knock at the door.

“I guess we’ve run out of time, it was a pleasure meeting you Y/N.” He shook your hand.

“It was nice meeting you too, Jiwon.” He stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

 You could hear talking outside of the interview room but, with a frosted glass window and opaque, cherrywood door you couldn’t really hear what was being said or see who he was talking to.

 As you heard the door being opened, you quickly stood up, ready to greet whoever came into the room.

As your eyes connected, you had to catch yourself to stop from fainting.

Your soul  just about left your body.

“Ms Y/L/N, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.” His smile was sly and spread across his face slowly as he took the seat across from you.

Hongjoong.

He doesn’t look any different to the way he did when you last saw him.

His hair, once red, was a light pink but, he still looked deceptively innocent.

He looked almost princely in his cut suit.

You were dumbfounded, frozen stiff and still standing in the position you were in before: hand out ready to greet someone who was already comfortably seated.

“Honey take a seat. Let me see that beautiful face. I haven’t seen it in, what was it, 2 years?” You could hear the smirk in his voice and the way he stressed that it had been 2 years. Your skin was crawling.

You couldn’t even get angry at being duped like this.

‘Run’

“Don’t even think about leaving. I have guards by the door, the elevator and in the lobby. Not even James Bond could get out of here.” He chuckles lightly at his joke and you think you might be sick.

Your stomach starts turning.

Your hands start to feel like spiders are crawling over them.

Your body goes cold and you start shaking.

Shakily, you sit back down; turning to face Hongjoong but, refusing to look at him.

He doesn’t like that.

“Look at me sweetheart, let me see those beautiful eyes.” You look at him. As sweet as his words are, his tone is sharp and commanding.

He’s daring you to disobey him, especially when he has you trapped like this.

“Why do you look so angry? Shouldn’t I be the angry one? After all, we spend an incredible and passionate night together and I wake up in the morning to find you gone. Poof, you disappear on me. You took all your shit and just left me.” He leans forward, his large eyes boring into yours.

Hongjoong isn’t going to let you get away , not this time.

You open your mouth, and nothing comes out. You’re beginning to hyperventilate.

“Oh, so you have nothing to say? Cute. I left you alone, thinking maybe you needed some time. Maybe the reason you were jumping all over the country was because you needed space to sort yourself out. I thought you’d come back and tell me what the hell you were thinking; running without so much as a goodbye.”  His voice raises louder with sentence, until he’s red in the face and shouting at you.

He's demanding an answer from you.

“Hongjoong, I-“ He holds up his hand, leaning back in his chair.

The smile has returned but, this time he looks more crazed than happy.

“Don’t worry. We’ll have time to talk about all your little escapades while you were off galivanting and hiding from me. Just tell me one thing baby:” His voice is deathly quiet as he leans in close; he’s deceptively calm.

“Does it surprise you, that I always knew where you were?”

Your breathing picks up at that and you begin to panic.

Your body feels like you can’t enough air in and you begin to shake.

The fact that he always knew where you were and could have gotten to you at any time hits you like a truck.

“I set up this cute, little interview just to talk to you. Isn’t that sweet Y/N? Instead of tracking you down and ambushing and you possibly getting hurt in the process, I just thought why not have her come to me? I’m tired of waiting for you to come home. It’s time for you to come home.”

You shake your head, trying to think of a way to run and coming up short.

Hongjoong grabs your hand, making you stand up from your chair and leads you to the door.

Your mind is still reeling and you’re running on autopilot – you need to get away from him.

‘Come on Y/N! THINK! You’ve gotten away before, you can do it again.’

You remember that Hongjoong said he had men in the elevator, outside the door and in the lobby but, he said nothing about the stairwell.

Hongjoong leads you out, holding onto you loosely  and you begin to think that he’s sure that he’s got you trapped.

As the elevator doors ding and open, you see Mingi inside it.

He’s tall and imposing, his face cold and stern. He barely spares you a glance as Hongjoong steps in the elevator before you. Now’s your chance.

Everything seemed to go in slow motion.

You pull your hand from his as the doors begin to close and bolt for the stairwell; ready to run all the way down.

“Shit.” Hongjoong immediately presses the button to open the door and charges after you.

You  know you’ve only got a little advantage over him and you’re not going to let it go to waste. You kick of your shoes and rush down the stairs, hearing Hongjoong behind you.

You’ve made it down 2 floors when you run right into Jongho’s arms.

“Please let me go, I need to get out of here, please!” With panic rising fast, you do everything you can to get out of his hold; kicking, screaming and begging.

Pretty soon tears are running down your face as the terror really starts to set in.

“I can’t do that Y/N, you know that.” Jongho says without much emotion in his voice. He barely looks at you and doesn’t even seem to break a sweat as you struggle against his hold.

Hongjoong shows up soon after.

Once he’d heard you being caught by one of his men he slowed down, taking his time to get to you.

He was stalking towards you.

“Thanks, Jongho. It looks like our little escape artist isn’t done adventuring yet.” He’s furious.

Despite how calm he looks his eyes are blazing as he looks at you coldly.

“Please Hongjoong, Jongho. Please! Just let me leave! I haven’t told anyone anything. You know that, right? I’ve been quiet the whole time. I won’t say anything. Please just let me go. I just want a normal life.” He shakes his head, taking a bottle out of his pocket and a handkerchief. He doesn’t even hear your pleas. Jongho’s hold on you only tightens.

He grabs your arms to stop you from lashing out at Hongjoong.

“Let’s make sure, she can’t get away again.” Your struggling and begging is useless, As the chemical soaked ‘kerchief is placed over your nose and mouth, the only thought that runs through your mind is that you should have followed your gut instinct.

Let me know what you think and let me know if you want to be tagged for the next chapter! <3

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

[marshmallowprotection]

Part 2 to my last submission ( it’s a few days after but 👉👈🥺 it be like that sometimes)

It’s been one week since mc escaped mint eye. One week of being on bedrest, of not being able to stomach most foods, of nightmares whenever mc tries to go to sleep, one week of constantly being exhausted, hungry but throwing up if she ate something that wasn’t soup, smoothies, shakes,crackers or oatmeal. One week of being hooked up to an iv bag. That wasn’t fun to put in, and with mc’s fear of needles she can’t even look at the iv going into her arm. Staying in a hospital room, no matter how luxurious it is, is still pretty intimidating. Although the nurses were really nice and would bring mc small toys to entertain herself with, Rubix cube, a deck of cards, and luckily jumin gifted mc a new phone with the rfa app already downloaded and all mc’s music playlists.

The days are the easiest, it at night, when no one is around besides the two bodyguard planted outside the hospital room door, it’s scary, the memories of being locked away and starved because mc refuses to drink a blue substance, would resurface. Nightmares of seeing people drugged and people praising this all mighty savior. But ray, ray was weird, mc still had hope ray could be saved, searan could be saved. But right now, the therapist told mc to focus on herself right now. If mc logged into the chat room now, she’d get lectured on staying up this late. Every time mc closes her eyes she sees a pair of mint eyes glaring down at her, and more show up, making it impossible for mc to escape. Mc just needs to talk with the rfa in person, but jumin is scared, scared to loose mc again, scared that the people who took mc are still waking around free, maybe plotting to try to take mc again. Mc just wants to go home, how things used to be a month ago, so she wouldn’t have caused all this trouble and worry. Mc can’t help but think that this is all her fault, she shouldn’t have gone to the apartment to collect some stupid documents, or that she should have gone a different day, or that if the guard was allowed in the building this wouldn’t have happened.

The days that followed consisted of nightmares, doctors, having panic attacks alone at 3 am, having the rfa members visit her hospital room daily, and lots of flowers and gift baskets left by business partners of C&R, some even had the audacity to leave their teenagers phone numbers on the cards, in hopes of mc and their child/grandchild hitting it off. But the worst was the needles, endless shots to make sure mc didn’t contract anything, to draw blood to do tests on, and iv bags. No matter who visited or how many gifts mc was given, she remained closed off and tense. Even around the rfa she couldn’t fully relax. All those months of the mc slowly becoming happy, comfortable, her slowly opening up, were all gone. The mc lying in the hospital bed has barely any spark left in her tired eyes, she looks so small surrounded by all those machines and wires. The first time jumin saw mc while she stayed in the hospital, he wanted to cry, seeing the girl who he considers his daughter look so scared, so sad, nearly broke jumin. Every night he read to her before visitors had to leave, mc would fall asleep, only to wake up a short while later due to a nightmare. When jumin caught wind of this he hired one of the best therapists that Jaehee could find. Yoosung hung out with mc whenever he could, wanting to help mc in any way possible. When zen visited he would often entertain mc the best, along with helping mc brush her hair( as earlier established in other asks, mc has really long hair) and help put it back so it didn’t get tangled up with the iv bag. Jaehee would bring dvds if zen’s performances, seven would bring honey Buddha chips, only to get a glare from jumin and the nurses, who had to tell him that mc can’t keep many foods down and those would only make her sick, then he decided in making mc one of the robot cats, one that looks like Elizabeth. But when they left, almost every time they would have tears in their eyes, blaming themselves for mc being in there.

The transition from hospital room to penthouse was a stressful one, for the entire rfa and the staff of jumin’s penthouse. Everything had to be sanitized, cleaned, every window had to be locked, alarms were set in place, background checks on every staff member, especially the ones that would be in close proximity to mc. Mc’s room was checked twice a day for anything dangerous, if there were any holes in the security measures, the glass windows were replaced with tempered glass. Jumin isn’t leaving anything up to chance, not when mc has been through so much already. Mc was more than ready to get out of the hospital, she was most excited to see Elizabeth and shower. On the day mc was cleared to go home, everyone in the rfa was excited, seven even arranged for mc to come home to a welcome home party, jumin did expect for them to be at the penthouse to help mc settle in.

After a stressful car ride, mc and jumin finally made it to the penthouse, noticing how many people are there, mc thinking that they are probably guards. Once they make it up to the penthouse, they are greeted by the rfa, and a banner saying “ welcome home!” Mc cracks a smile for the first time in weeks. Seven is the first to run up to mc, nearly crushing her in a hug. That hug quickly becomes a group hug, as Yoosung is the next to join the hug. Even jumin gets pulled into the group hug. Poor zen keeps sneezing but tries to stick it out for mc.

At night when everyone went home, and mc finally is able to shower and get changed, mc sees how much she changed, what once used to be bright eyes are now dull with dark circles underneath them, her skin is much more pale than one month ago, seeing the bruises on her wrists and ankles from where the chains were, and seeing how broken she looked. It felt like her throat was closing up as hot tears ran down her face, sitting down on the floor of her bedroom mc curls up in a ball, it feels like the room is closing in on her, the sweater suddenly feels too tight around her neck, shaky hands grab the neckline and pull on it, coughing violently and gasping for air. All mc can see is the floor, the images of her room in mint eye, the blue elixir and those cold eyes of searan who told her that they will forget about you like he did to him. 

All this noise makes Elizabeth come over, pawing at mc and nuzzling her face against mc’s leg. Elizabeth meows lousy to get jumin’s attention. Hearing the combination of Elizabeth the tird’s cries of distress and coughing coming from mc’s bedroom, jumin doesn’t waste a moment, running into mc’s room, without even knocking. Jumin finds a distressed Elizabeth nuzzling mc, who is gasping for air, on the floor with tears streaming down her face. He feels his stomach drop at the sight. Not knowing what to do he walks over to mc, hesitantly placing a hand on her shoulder, and sitting her up, then pulling her into a hug, sitting between his legs, putting mc’s hear over his heart.

“Shhh, shhh, everything is okay, just listen to my heart beat, I promise duckling, I won’t let anyone hurt you again.” Jumin repeats that mantra until mc’s breathing steadys.

“ I’m sorry jumin, I -“ mc begins to apologize but is quickly cut off by jumin.

“ don’t apologize mc, there is nothing for you to apologize about “ Elizabeth makes her way towards mc and jumin, pawing at mc and nuzzling her, trying to help. Jumin calls for a maid to fetch some  chamomile tea and a water bottle. He then picks mc up and sits her upright in bed. Elizabeth plops down on her lap and behind to purr and muzzle into mc’s shaky hand. Jumin knows when he sees mc drinking tea, in bed with red puffy eyes, still shaking, that this is going to be a long recovery. But when he sees Elizabeth the third cuddling up to mc, he Rember that for mc, he and the rfa will be there each step, for each panic attack, each nightmare, each sleepless night, and that he is doing this for his family, for his daughter. - submission

/Sobs.

It's beautiful and I can't even eloquently propose a line of thought right now that could match on par with any of this. You've captured that very strong emotional essence of the AU and it makes me want to cry cause it's such a wild ride to read through like this.

My hat's off to you, MC will always have their family with them to help.

[twins-parted]

Just going to talk about reflecting through the last month about pride & who I am at this point in the game, vs. who I thought I was ... because honestly, idk who the fuck am I anymore ???

Tw: OOC Alcohol Use Mention, CSA Mention, Mental Illness Mentions.

I have never explained this story in full to anyone outside of my cousin, a therapist & my husband, but I’ve made very good friends here that I feel comfortable sharing this information with & So I’m just gonna try to have an open discussion here too: 

I am honestly, so confused about myself & as someone with severe OCD, ( stemming from PTSD ), ... who needs labels to feel like I am still in control of myself, I’m not sure what to think anymore & It’s messing with me pretty hard at this moment. 

So, I knew I wasn’t completely straight at the age of seven or eight - and it didn’t help that I was being ‘ abused ‘ by a male within my family. I just didn’t like men at all, even before the shit that went down ... but, especially not after.  I constantly felt - and occasionally still feel - scared & unclean if I have to be alone with dudes 1 on 1, that I don’t know for extended periods of time. That’s where the PTSD comes in. 

( It’s important to note: I have always primarily felt attraction to other women aesthetically, romantically & sexually. As long as I can remember, even before I could put it into words. This is the part that gets sorta confusing later. ) 

In middle school I had come to terms with the idea I just didn’t have an interest in guys, and while my family had sorta gathered that much, I didn’t project that at school because I was afraid of being singled out for being different. ( Not that I had an interest in any of the people around me, but I also didn’t want any of my peers to feel uncomfortable around me either. )

By high school, I recognized that while aesthetically I liked the idea of certain boys in my classes - I wasn’t interested in them in romantic or, um - - -  horndoggy ways. They were merely a pawn to get me to the top of the high school popularity chain. ( Was it a shitty mindset to hold ? Hell yes ! I understand that was a terrible reason to like them ... was I a stupid kid ?! ALSO YES. Please cut me some slack, I would never condone that shit past the age of 16. Rest assured, I’m not this person anymore. ) I mean, I just hated being a nobody. 

I was also more open about who I was as a person, to my best friends (2). So, you can all imagine the surprise I felt when me and Harley clicked. I had never in a million years envisioned myself feeling genuine romantic feelings toward a guy. I just ... it wasn’t supposed to be in the cards. I hadn’t ever held romantic or sexual interest in them, not seriously anyway. Yet, here he was ... kind & soft & caring & open-minded, but opinionated. He was not the epitome of the classic southern redneck as the other guys in my classes were raised to be. I hadn’t met a guy like him before. 

That was refreshing, but scary to me. 

( I’m going to be very honest here: outside of fictional men or celebrities I’d never stand a chance with ... I really didn’t give guys a second thought at all. Until Harley. He was everything I needed in a partner & he still is. ) 

Eventually, we started dating and at about three years in, at a college dorm party -  I finally got super drunk & the entire weird history of my sexuality came out.

 I want to be clear, I didn’t ever want him to feel like I was trying to hide it. That’s not how functional relationships were supposed to work & I didn’t want it thrown in my face later if he found out, you know, not from me. And he understood, and accepted that & admitted he also was not 100% hetero either & while that was reassuring - it has also ( to this day ) put me in the position of always worrying that he thinks I won’t be faithful or that I didn’t really love him and I need a coverup. I recognize those are all stupid fucking fears to have after being together almost 10 years now, but I have so much anxiety I can’t articulate about this that I feel sick when it is mentioned. 

( Again, I voice this fear & he promises he doesn’t feel that way & I know he isn’t lying about that because he’s very open, honest & sincere. ) 

I just ... it’s weird knowing if anything happened to him, or if we had to go our separate ways: I would never feel honest  romantic / sexual attraction to a man again. 

I don’t like feeling like I don’t know what I am, or who I am, or that it’s too complicated to bother defining. 

Maybe I just don’t belong in the LGBTQA+ community anymore ?? 

It just feels like pansexual isn’t the label for me ... but I don’t know. Maybe i’m overanalyzing things, but it felt wrong for me to participate in pride this year. Like I wasn’t allowed. I don’t know.  

I dunno, I just killed a bottle of Irish whiskey because it’s been weighing heavy on me & I needed to voice it. If this doesn’t make sense, sorry. I’ll be deleting this in the morning anyway out of embarrassment probably, but I had to get it off my chest and sorta into words so it would stop fucking with me. 

It just feels like a disservice to myself & you guys not to be honest about this when it has affected my mood for a month or so now & I’m pretty sure most of you could tell somethings been up. 

[harryscumcloth]

Forever, Always

This is the second and final part of Mister and Missus Maybe. Special thank you’s to @loveandyourstrulyh​ and @sleepyeyedstyles​. I say this every time but I really appreciate the help and feedback.

Warnings: depression, anxiety, talks of death and miscarriage.

“I’ve phoned a few people that I know for more information about her.” He watches you push your food around on your plate. “You should go. I think it will be good for you baby.”

You sit slouched in the chair, with your knees pulled to your chest with your elbows propped on it, the other leg dangling, and the other hand playing with your food.

“I don’t want to.” You mutter.

“What’s that?” His voice becomes stern and his posture changes to stiff.

“I said I don’t want to.” Your tone becomes harsh, pissing him off. He’s been fed up with this for a while. Your constant moping has ultimately become enough.

You’re startled when he slams both of his hands down on the dining table, knocking both glasses of wine on to the floor. “I’m not giving you a choice, (y/n)!”

The look upon your face makes him immediately regret his impulsive action.

“Love, I’m sorry.”

He apologizes but you aren’t sure for what. Forcing you to go to a therapist? Slamming his hands on the table? Staining the semi-new rug?

“I shouldn’t have acted that way.” He tugs at his hair in frustration. “I just want you to feel better and I don’t know what more I can do to help.”

“I’ve told you a million times before, Harry.” “Nothing. Is. Going. To. Help.” You pause after each word for emphasis.

He is terribly worried for you. You haven’t been eating. You sleep for over half of the day. You’re not practicing good hygiene. You aren’t the same person that he fell in love with. He senses that you are truly broken.

Yes, he said in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, but he never imagined it would come to this.

Things had finally started to get better for you two. You were the happiest you had been in a long time. The extravagant honeymoon, the constant love and attention from your husband, a new home, the whole lot. You even convinced Harry that you were ready for a baby. Scratch that. You did not have to convince him, at all. He was already thinking about it but wasn’t sure if you were ready, so he didn’t mention it.

Though, nothing good lasts forever.

****

The appointment was scheduled to be held in the place of your own home for more comfort. You dressed yourself in a large jumper, a pair of black tights, and thick fuzzy socks. You even managed to brush the knots and tangles from your hair. The jumper was worn to hide the drastic decrease in your weight. Although Harry knows about it, no one else does. You have been in hiding for 2 months now, and this is your first encounter with someone other than your husband. The air grew warmer as the anticipation continued to build. The palms of your hands were drenched in moisture as well as the rest of your body. It was a bad decision on your behalf to dress as if the session was going to take place outside in negative degree weather. It’s impossible for you to find a comfortable sitting position because your nerves are being electrified.

“Aren’t you going to go upstairs or something?” You side eye him from across the room.

“I’m going to show her in if that’s alright.” His tone matches yours in rudeness. He takes another look through the door window before stepping back to open it. “Y’know, don’t know why you hate me. I’ve done nothing.” It was the last thing he could say before she arrived.

You mumbled “I don’t hate you” under your breath.

You pulled your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them to hold in place. “Thank you very much for making a house call for us. We are grateful.” He says as he guides her to the sitting area.

She carries a large bag, which you assume contains documents and your soon-to-be personal file. You watch intently as she strides behind your husband, a mischievous look painted on her face.

Harry plops down on the sofa, right beside you. You give him the what are you doing look. All he does is smile and tuck your hair behind your ear. “I love you baby.” He mouths.

Your attention returns to her as she approaches you with confidence. “My name is Kim. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Finally?

“Y/N.” You straighten your posture to drop your feet on the ground, challenging her with a facade of possessiveness.

He clears his throat aggressively, signaling to calm down. He knows you are the jealous type. Any woman that he has a history with, you tend to have a personal vendetta against. It’s not that you feel threatened per se, but you’re aware of how marvelous Harry’s love is and how clueless he can be about women.

Kim takes a seat in the lounge chair across from the sofa. “I have a few questions for the two of you before we formally begin the session. These questions will assist me in having a greater understanding of your marriage.” She opens the top folder of her stack and begins flipping through papers before finding the necessary set.

“Marriage?” You look to him for answers but he is silent. “It’s only supposed to be me!” Your eyes fill to the brim with tears from betrayal. “Harry, why are you blindsiding me?” You attempt to wipe them away. He lowers his head as he can sense the change of atmosphere surrounding the two of you. He’s highly ashamed, but he was uncertain of how else to address the situation.

“May I continue?” She asks.

“Yes.” Harry’s head is still hung as he responds quietly.

Tears are still actively flowing from your eyes as you sit in complete disbelief. The whole ordeal isn’t what is shocking. What is shocking is that he believed that he had to fool you into attending marriage counseling. The marriage hasn’t been the same in months and you both were well aware. You are humiliated to be quite frank.

Her hand readily holds the pen and notepad before asking the first question. “How long have you have you both been together?”

You remain silent while Harry answers. “Off and on. Ehm, 8 years maybe?” He looks to you for approval.

“9.” You interject. “It’s been 9 years.”

She shows a concerned expression before writing in the notepad.

“And how long have you been married?”

“Almost 6 months.” You state.

“Harry, are you happy in this marriage?”

You waited with anticipation. He couldn’t answer right away and that was a bad sign. You love him so much but you can’t control the emotions you feel and you know that you are ultimately pushing him further and further away each day. If you lost him… there would be no hope for you.

“Not at the moment.” He focuses on you with a regretful expression to his face. “Quite miserable if I am honest.”

You never imagined Harry admitting that to anyone, but yet, he just did. Your perspective has changed from him loving you, to him pitying you.

“Y/N, Are you?” She asks while she finishes writing his response down.

Your gaze is locked on the floor because you are too guilt-ridden to look forward. “It doesn’t really matter how I feel now, does it?”

“It does matter Y/N, but you never open up to me! You have shut me out for months now!” Harry’s voice becomes angry, causing you to be more unsettled, if possible.

You try to ignore him by looking at the large backyard through the glass wall. You begin to reminisce about the renovations you and Harry had planned to make. A large white privacy fence, a custom built play area, even an expanded patio for when you would host dinner parties.

Kim quickly comes to the conclusion that a typical session isn’t going to help your marriage, due to your inability to verbally share your feelings. She suggests a different approach. “Perhaps we could try an alternative. Do either of you enjoy writing? You could write letters to each other and exchange them at the next session.”

Your attention is still directed outside while you nod. “Yeah, we can do that.” He speaks for you also.

“Okay, fantastic. We will continue this in the morning at the same time.” She begins to gather her belongings. “To make it easier, I suggest you write in separate rooms. The presence of the other may alter your true feelings.” Harry shows her to the door, thanking her again, and softly closing it. His forehead hits the door with a thud.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks, with his head still pressed to the door.

“I’m sure.” You reply.

You went to separate rooms and stayed put for hours. You rewrote the letter 10 times, and reread it 50. You wanted to make sure you didn’t leave anything out and that you hit every point. It’s a full piece of notebook paper, front and back. Happy with the final piece, you tuck it away in the desk and walk back to the bedroom. You assumed Harry was already asleep when you climbed in, so you were careful not to disturb him.

Neither of you slept that night. Curiosity held both minds captive.

***

Kim arrived right on time, just as she did yesterday. “We can begin when you are ready.” She says. “Would you like to face each other, or read in separate rooms?”

You look at Harry for him to decide. “We can face each other.”

When Harry hands you his paper, you notice that it is a little less than half of what you had written for him. You feel disappointed, but eager to read it. His eyes widen at the shock of how much you had written him. He wasn’t expecting you to say much, because you never do.

Dear y/n,

I want to start this by telling you how much I love you. I love you more than anything. Times have been tough lately and I’ve done my best to guide you, but it has not been an easy ride. I know what your pain is about. You have endured more tragedy than anyone I have known. They would have been so proud of how strong you were and how you pushed through. I wish you had used your safety belt… maybe it would have ended differently. I know the guilt consumes you, but it’s not entirely your fault. The timing wasn’t right for our baby. We were just kids the first go around. Silly kids might I add. I felt the pain because it was my child too. I still remember the look on your face the day that I proposed. You told me that you didn’t like big commitments, because you always end up alone. I promised you I would not leave you. I thought things were getting better for us, but it happened a second time. The doctors told you that it could be fatal for you if you were to become pregnant again. I believe that was the exact moment you lost yourself for good. I am tired of waking up feeling like I am a stranger in my own home. I need your love and attention. If things had turned out differently, I know we could be together indefinitely. I still mean every word I wrote in my vows. But I am breaking my promise to never leave you, because I have to think about myself for once. I hope you accept the help I am offering you, so you can get better. I’ll love you forever, no matter what.

Always, h.

You felt as your heart shattered into a million tiny pieces. His letter meant there was no going back. You successfully pushed him away, unintentionally. If you weren’t completely broken already, you were now. Harry wasn’t even the one to blame.

You folded the letter back to its original shape before noticing he has yet to start reading. He sees the tears in your eyes and immediately regrets writing the letter. He contemplates reading yours, but decides he should.

Harry,

I am still angry about you lying about this marriage counsel. I felt embarrassed and betrayed. One good thing came from it though. I realized that I have not been fair to you. I wasn’t worried about how you felt or what you needed from me. I can never say how sorry I am for not being a constant companion for you. I am broken, I know that. I tell myself that I do not know why, but deep down I do know. I try to erase it from my memory, but I cannot do so. I am still severely traumatized from the accident, physically and emotionally. My father, my brother, and our baby girl or baby boy would still be here if I had not been selfish wanting to go home in the dead of night. I vividly remember thinking about you while I was laying in the ditch. I didn’t know that they weren’t okay yet, so I only thought about never seeing you again. I was sure I was going to die there. I believe my soul did.

I don’t remember anything else except waking up and seeing you and my mum. That was the first time I ever saw you cry. I was still on pain meds from the surgery, but I felt that pain. I have lived with this guilt for years. Not sure how you can look at me when I can’t even look at myself. I never told you that the doctor said the extensive injuries to my abdomen and uterus were very severe and I probably wouldn’t be able to have children. I didn’t want to tell you because I wanted to think differently. I wanted to have your children more than anything.

I wanted to tell you so badly the night before our wedding, but I was scared. I had let things go too far in hopes of maybe the doctors were wrong. But it was proven true. We almost made it to three months, just shy a week. I let you believe that I did not know how bad the injuries had been when the doctors told you. I was ashamed and scared that you would break your promise and leave me for the information I withheld. I lost all hope in that moment. I think you did as well. I hate myself for it because you deserve better. You deserve someone that you can take out in public, go to red carpets with, post photos on Instagram with, even go on your morning run with. I want to be that person for you but I don’t know how to be. You are still the best person I know. I want to be better for you. I’ll do whatever it takes because I can't bare to lose you. You are for me.  

Y/N

His lips are quivering as he fights to hold back his emotions. His remorseful eyes meet your tear filled ones instantly.

“You’re leaving me?”

[burned-to-a-crispy]

Gettin real fucking tired of this year

Pandemics are stressful. I didn't see my partner for 6 months and I'm sure many other people can sympathize as they are in the same boat with being touch starved to the point of pain.

Politics is so damn depressing. How little people seem to care about lives and how apparently people can get away with murder with very few repercussions is terrifying. Its depressing seeing how many racist relatives I have and how few I'm willing to see after covid.

Then early pandemic both my parents get sick with the symptoms for covid. Mom actually had enough breathing problems that she had to be taken to the hospital. The doctor didn't give a straight answer whether it was covid or not but they isolated to be safe.

Then in May my therapist ghosted me at *the worst* possible time, after the stress of covid and also thanks to all this alone time all my childhood traumas tormenting me after years of repressing mixing together so I relapsed with self harm the most severe its been in 10 years(I'm under control now but fuck it was rough).

Then in August my wallet got stolen. Because of how much I've moved the last 2-3 years all my ID was in the same place including my SIN number and birth certificate. They helped themselves to over $600 from my bank accounts and tried to take loans out in my name. So yay fighting identity theft.

Then all of a sudden my work starts cracking tf down and decided that nothing I do is good enough. For the last month and a half all I have heard is criticism, only some of which earned. Its gotten to the point I'm starting to wonder if I should quit welding because I feel like I'm no good. Like how fucking demoralizing is it when I clock in and my lead says 'here's the job you're doing, here's the parts for it. Try not to fuck it up too much' I've done this job before and not once have I fucked it up. I'm job hunting and I have a lead so fuck I hope I can get out soon.

AND TONIGHT. I am getting ready for bed, settling down after my almost nightly cry, when I get a message from my mom. Apparently she almost passed out at work and had to be taken to the hospital via ambulance. Still waiting on results. She has almost passed out once before last summer, but she made it to the bathroom to hide from people to recover and acting like nothing happened. So I'm so worried.

I know everyone is having a hard time this year, but I can't handle the bullshit.

You're being a bit too rough 2020, what's the safe word?

[blacknight1230]

Inexperienced - Otis Milburn Imagine (2/?)

After school, while waiting for Eric, Otis is surprised to have his crush, (y/n), come up to him. The two end up having a bonding experience as (y/n) brings Otis to her favorite spot in town, and learn new things about each other as trust builds between the two. All of this makes Otis wonder if things between them are as platonic as they seem. 

Part 1

“Where’s Eric? He should be done with his classes now,” Otis said as he waited by the bike rack in front of the school. “Hey, Otis!” a voice shouted, causing the dark-haired boy to turn towards the source. Coming out of the school’s front entrance, was (y/n), a smile on her face and happiness in her eyes. Otis nervously waved at her, surprised by his friend, and crush, of two months randomly being here at this time. School wa slet out fifteen minutes ago after all and most students would literally sprint out of class, and the school itself, when they were able to. 

(Y/n) quickly caught up to him, holding the strap of her backpack. “Eric told me to tell you he’s sorry he couldn’t walk back with you today. He still has detention with Mr. Kendricks he’s got to deal with,” (y/n) apologized for her other friend. “It’s okay. Eric probably is getting sick and tired of being with me all the time anyway,” Otis tried to joke around, but it sounded more depressing than funny. “Oh, that’s not true. Eric loves you. In a non-romantic way, obviously,” (y/n) reassured him. Otis stifled a burst of laughter at the last sentence, but a smile still made its way to his lips. “Is it okay if I walk with you instead? My house is on the way,” (y/n) asked. “Sure, why not,” Otis said calmly. But on the inside, he was screaming and flailing around. 

(y/n) continued to chat with Otis as he walked alongside his bicycle. “So, anything new happened today?” Otis asked, starting the conversation. “Nothing much. Maeve has started to trust me more. Enough for her to confide in me about her family life,” (y/n) said, staring off into the distance as they traveled along the walking bridge Otis took to get to and from school everyday. “That’s actually awesome. I’m glad you and her are getting along so well. She never talks about stuff like to that to just anyone. The only one she’s talk to  about her home life was me.” “I understand why she does. With everyone calling her Cockbiter, she doesn’t need other people to tease her about her non-existent family”, (y/n) said. 

A brief silence was shared between the two, before (y/n) broke it. “Hey, do you want to see something cool?” (y/n) asked excitedly, here eyes shining with excitement. Otis was so entranced by her innocent joy that she’ll be able to show him something so special to her that he just had to agree. “Alright, lead the way,” he said. (y/n) squealed in excitement and smiled widely, teeth shining brightly as she grabbed Otis’s hand and pulled him along. A blush burned on his cheeks at the girl holding his hand, but (y/n) seemed oblivious to this. So, (y/n) led him away from his usual route, through the trees, across a stream, and into a field of flowers overlooking the town. 

(y/n) let go of Otis’s hand and ran into the seemingly endless rows of wild flowers. Otis could only look at the scene with amazement, the sun warm on his skin, the scent of flowers wafting through the air. “Otis! Come sit next to me!” (y/n) yelled from her spot on the flowery hill. Otis had no trouble finding his new friend, the flowers and grass, not the high enough to hide a person if they want to rest and enjoy the scenery sitting down. He sat next to (y/n), the wild green grass tickling the palms of his hands. “So, what do you think of my little spot?” (y/n) asked, as they stared at the town below. “It’s so peaceful here. How have I never been here before?” Otis wondered out loud. “I found this place about a month ago. It’s quickly been my go to place to get away from the drama of school and everyday life,” (y/n) explained. Her eyes were closed as she basked in the afternoon sunlight. She looks absolutely perfect, Otis thought as he admired her. They sat and enjoyed the silence as they watched the world go by from their little slice of heaven. 

“Otis,” (y/n) said as the sky turned pink, the sun about to set. “Can I confide in you about something?” “Of course,. You can trust me. And I promise not to tell anyone if you’re worried,” Otis replied, wondering what she wanted to tell him. A part of him was happy that she wanted to confide in him about her worries, too. (y/n) inhaled, then started to speak. “Do you ever feel like you’re completely clueless about relationships?” she asked as she looked at the landscape. “What?” Otis was confused; what did she mean? “Like I feel completely oblivious about love and maintaining a good romantic relationship. I’ve never had a boyfriend or anything and usually its because I’m scammed I’ll do the wrong thing. And everyone seems to be experts in this field. Hell, I just saw a couple fucking behind the bushes on in front of the school!” 

Otis chuckled at the last sentence in her little rant, having seen the same exact thing every day of school and complained about it too. “Hey, you can’t be the only one who feels this way,” Otis tried to reassure her. “It seems very unlikely. I feel so isolated because of it and like there is something wrong with me,” (y/n) said, fingers playing around with the strand and petals of flowers next to her. She was refusing to make eye contact with Otis. Said boy sat back and decided to tell her what he barely told anyone, even his mom. “Well, I’m still a virgin and sexually inexperienced,” he said, a blush coming to his cheeks. I can’t believe I’m telling her this, Otis though in embarrassment. “Really? So you feel the same way as I do,” (y/n) wondered out loud. “You can say that. But the thing is that I have more trouble than you do,” Otis admitted. “What do you mean?” 

“Um, it’s not something I usually talk about,” he said nervously, palms starting to sweat. “Come on, Otis. I told you about my embarrassing problems,” (y/n) tried to persuade him. “It’s hard to admit, especially to you. The only one who know about this is Eric. Well, besides my mom, but that’s because she’s very nosy.” (y/n) giggled when he complained about his mother. “Please, Otis, I promise not to tell anyone. This will just be between you and me.” “I don’t know ...” “Please, for me.” Otis stared at (y/n), heart strings being pulled, as she gave him a puppy-eyed look that he caved in from. “Ok,” he sighed. (y/n) smiled and repositioned herself in a comfortable position, eagerly waiting for him to began. I naturally trust her. Why? Otis thought before he began to tell her his most embarrassing secret. 

“God, I can’t believe I’m admitting this. Alright, here I go; I can’t masturabte,” he said, the last sentence being spoken in a rush. “Wait, you can’t ...” (y/n) trailed off and made hand motions for the act. “I mean, it works fine and everything and I know its natural and everyone does it, but I just ... can’t. I feel icky doing it,” Otis explained, cheeks hot as he admitted this. “Hmm, interesting. Have you thought that you might be celibate or asexual?” (y/n) asked, curious and seeming to understand him. “No, I’m definitely not either of those. I was dating Ola, before she broke it off with me, and I’m still plagued by hormonal teenage urges,” Otis tried to explain, without going into too much detail. 

“It might be psychological then. Like a bad memory pops up whenever you try it or think about it,” (y/n) pondered, trying to figure out the cause of Otis’s complex personal problem. “Maybe,” Otis mumbled. He specifically remembered the incident with Lily. When the weird girl tried to touch him and act sexy, which failed horribly, he did have a panic attack when the memory of him catching his father having sex with his patients behind his mother’s back popped up when Lily touched him. “Have you tried to talking to your mom? I know she’s a sex therapist, so maybe you can professional help from her,” (y/n) questioned. “Definitely not. I don’t need her to find out about this. She already embarasses me by nonchalantly talking about sex and telling people about my sex life. Well lack of a sexual live,” Otis ranted. 

“Sadly, you can’t go to the Clinic for help. I was actually thinking of going to it for my problem,” (y/n) said. “You were?” Otis said, amazed. “Yeah, but I like this way better. We both get to learn more about each other and build trust between us,” (y/n) continued, a bright smile on her face. Otis could feel his heart flutter in his chest from admiration, falling more in love with her. “I’m glad we got the chance to talk then,” Otis replied, bright blue eyes looking at the (h/c) haired girl next to him, with affectionate eyes. “And talk about what’s bothering you so much.” “Me, too, Otis. Me, too.” 

Otis noticed that his left hand and (y/n)’s right hand were resting next to each other on the grassy ground. Gaining a sudden wave of courage, he nonchalantly covered her hand with his, inwardly shuttering at the feeling of (y/n)’s soft warm skin. (y/n) didn’t move her hand when he ghosted his hand over hers, giving no indication besides a small smile that he did anything. If Otis’s heart wasn’t beating rapidly before, it definitely was when (y/n) shuffled closer to him and lightly laid her head on his shoulder, then gently grasped his left hand that Otis had laid over hers. He decided to just enjoy the moment, looking at the landscape before him as it slowly changed color as the sun started to set. 

The moment was interrupted by a phone rigging, the shrill noise braking the quiet and calm scene. (y/n) hurriedly detached herself from Otis, rummaging through her pants pockets looking for her phone. She eventually found it and quickly answered the phone call, speaking a frantic greeting in the speaker. Otis could hear a woman on the other end, talking loudly to the point she was almost screaming, yet he couldn’t hear what she said. “Sorry, mom, I’ll come home right now. I’ll be there soon,” (y/n) said before ending the call. “I’ve got to go home, Otis. I completely lost track of time and I made my mom worried,” she explained to Otis, getting up and gathering her stuff. “Oh. It’s okay. I’ve got to go home, too,” he reassured her, getting up from the ground, too. A part of Otis was sad that she had to leave, enjoying the way they just basked in each other’s presence and didn’t have to say a word to enjoy their time together. 

He grabbed his backpack and bike, silently followed (y/n) across the field of flowers, into the woods, past the little stream, and onto the walking/biking path that eventually led to the Otis’s street. Before the two went on their separate ways, (y/n) turned to Ots. “I enjoyed spending time with you, Otis. I can’t wait to do this again,” she said, a king smile on her face. “I did, too. I have a feeling I’ll keep going to that field again and again,” Otis replied, looking down at the (slightly/much) shorter girl, her infectious smile making its way to his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” (y/n) asked. “Of course. You’ll see me at my locker next to yours.” “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” 

(y/n) suddenly left a small peck of her lips on his cheek, before leaving him frozen in shock at the wooden bridge. Otis could only stand there, his cheeks red, watching (y/n) rush back home. When her figure disappeared from his sight, Otis lifted a hand to feel the cheek she kissed, almost feeling the smoothness and warmth of her lips on his cheek. Otis started to half celebrate, half freak out about this. She kissed my cheek! I can’t believe it! Does that mean she likes me? Or was that a platonic kiss? Otis wondered. A text notification broke Otis away from his inward battle, making him take a look at his phone. He got a text from mother, who was wondering where he was and that dinner was waiting for him on the table. Otis quickly mounted his bike and pedalled away towards his house, the cheek kiss still on his mind. 

TO BE CONTINUED

[i-went-to-a-cuddle-party-once]

Breaking and Entering

Summary: Teen Malcolm is a handful to say in the least but Gil tries his best to be a good Dad.

Warnings: Small traces of angst.

Word Count: 1, 503

A/N: This can be read as both a stand-alone and continuation of my story Christmas Time Is Here 

“Stop acting like you’re my dad! I’m not some kid anymore Gil!” The words stung more than he’d like to admit. He wasn’t surprised by them. The last few months, years if he was being honest, had led to this. And Malcolm was right in some ways. He wasn’t a kid anymore. He sighed rubbing his head. The early morning light shone through the window and did nothing for his budding headache.

“Let’s just put that aside for now Malcolm. What I really want to know is why you were caught breaking into empty houses at two am,” the teenager sat across the kitchen table from him, arms crossed, mouth pursed closed.

“And yeah, you’re not a kid anymore. You’re almost an adult. And if you keep on pulling shit like this you’re going to get yourself arrested. Hell, you could have if the owner decided to press charges. You’re lucky,-” Malcolm stood up, almost knocking his chair over in the process. 

“Oh I’m lucky,” he said in a calm and furious voice, “yeah I’m so fucking lucky that my closest friend is the cop that arrested my father. I’m so lucky that my mom is an alcoholic and drinking herself to an early grave. I’m so lucky that I get kicked out of every school I go to because once the word gets out that the freak with a serial killer for a father is there they’ll stop at nothing to get rid of me,” he looked straight into his eyes, waiting for Gill to say something. He didn’t. He knew nothing he said or did right now would quell the boy’s anger. Anything he tried would be twisted into another reason to be mad. Instead, he watched the teen’s hands, shaking and clenching, wishing he could reach out to comfort him. Malcolm left, slamming the door behind him.  

Jackie walked in from the living room. She pushed the empty chair in and leaned against the counter, sipping from the cup she held in her hands. 

“If that boy breaks my door he’s buying me a new one. Heaven knows he can afford it.” She smiled at him and he felt the tightness in his heart ease slightly. He stood and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. 

“Maybe I’ll get one of those fancy ones with the built-in knocker. No, then I’d have to get him to break all the other ones so they’d match.”

…

It was nearing midnight and he still couldn’t relax. Still couldn’t stop thinking about him. Without turning on the light he opened the drawer to his bedside table and quietly looked for the letter. When things with Malcolm got difficult, which they often did, he would reread it. He had written it to him that first terrible year. It was Christmas time and the impending trial of Doctor Martin Whitley was looming. He found it, worn and soft from the years of being kept in his wallet. He’d only removed it when he realized it was starting to fall apart. He left the room, house slippers and a robe on, and made his way to the guest room with the recliner. He didn’t really need to read the physical letter but holding the paper in his hands and seeing the boys print gave him a sense of purpose that remembering it didn’t. 

Dear Gil,

I’m not good at saying things out loud. Even before I stopped talking I wasn’t good at it. I know I’m not an easy person to be around. But I want to tell you these things. My therapist told me it’s important to share things with the people that matter to you. 

I wish you were my dad. I wish that I could live with you and Jackie. I wish I had friends and I could invite my friends over and we could eat pizza and watch movies. I wish I could eat pizza. I wish I was normal. I wish I wasn’t me but I am. My therapist says I have to accept that. 

I’m glad you were the one that showed up at our house that night. I’m glad that you’re part of my life. People on the news always talk about how great a person my father was but he wasn’t. You don’t yell at my mom when you think Ainsley and I are asleep. You hold me when I cry and don’t tell me to stop. You don’t go away for long work trips or yell at us for playing with your stuff. You don’t make me feel like I have to be perfect.  I didn’t realize he was a bad dad until I met you.

My father always told me that I was going to do great things. That I’m a genius and a prodigy. I never wanted to be any of those things though. You make me feel like I can be just me. 

I know I can’t change who I am. I know you can’t actually be my dad but you can be my best friend. I know Jackie is your best friend because she is your wife but I hope I can be your second best friend. Merry Christmas Gil.

Love, 

Your friend,

Malcolm

…

The click of the front door opening woke him up. He hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep. He looked at his watch, 2:00 a.m. glaring back at him. He headed down the stairs without turning the lights on. The teenager was there, pacing the living room. 

“You didn’t even bring your gun. What if I was robbing your house,” he asked. 

“What are you going to take? You know I don’t have anything good.”

“I didn’t break-in,” Malcolm dug his hand into his jacket pocket and fished out a ring of keys.

“Ah, you remembered how to use keys” Gil flipped the light on before sitting on the couch. “Come on, take a seat,” he patted at the cushion beside him. “Or stand. I’m sitting,” he sighed. Malcolm ran his hand through his hair contemplating it before rolling his eyes and flopping onto the worn couch next to him. They sat in silence, the crack and hum of the heater keeping them company. It wasn’t until he heard the teens quiet sniffling that he turned to look at him. Tears ran down Malcolm’s face. 

“I know. I know it’s stupid. And I know it’s not a good reason. But Ainsley’s getting older and is normal enough to actually have friends and my Mother has her charity galas and you have your work and Jackie’s been sick and I- I started visiting him more often because I was so tired of feeling so fucking alone,” he put his arm around Malcolm and Malcolm rested his head against his chest like he used to when he was a boy. “And I can’t sleep,” he laughed, “I mean I never sleep but this is different. Worse.” Gil stayed quiet, waiting for Malcolm to finish. “It’s stupid and I’m so sorry Gil, I didn’t mean to let you down,” the teen wiped his face with his sleeve but the tears kept on coming, “I didn’t mean to make you worry. And I swear Gil, I promise you I always made sure the houses were empty first. I made sure the families were on vacation or business trips or whatever,” he looked up at Gil who nodded back at him.

“I just don’t understand Malcolm. Why?” He sighed for the umpteenth time.

“I don’t really remember how the idea came to me but I thought-” he paused to bite his lip, “I thought that if I could be in their homes, in their beds, that I could convince myself I was someone else. Just for a little while. Just for a few hours. Just so I could get some sleep. I-I know it’s stupid.” the man pulled him into a hug. 

“I’m sorry you feel like you have to be someone else, kid. If I had any wisdom I could share with you that would make all these night terrors and insomnia go away I would’ve told you it years ago.”

“ I know.”

“And I’m sorry. Not that I yelled. Well yes, that I yelled. But I’m sorry we made you feel like you were alone. Malcolm, you’re getting older and-”

“I know, I need to be more careful. I will. I promise.” Gil turned his body so he was facing him and wiped the remaining tears from the boys face. 

“Let me finish. You’re getting older and we were trying to give you some more space. To grow up, meet people, step out of your comfort zone a bit. You can’t live the rest of your life hanging out with us old folks. But we’re always here for you Malcolm. You’re always welcome in our home and our lives,” he squeezed him into a tight hug to accentuate his point. 

They sat in silence again. A comfortable one.

[mannien]

Let me tell you a short reunion story

June 9, 2020. 

We’re in the middle of a pandemic. Although the curve is far from flattening here, our government loosened the restrictions. Self-distancing is still very much advised, but we are allowed to meet up in large groups in public spaces, given that if the authorities ask, we’re each 2 meters apart from one another.

Due to the global situation, I’m on an unpaid leave. As of right now, it’s been a month and a half since I’ve last been at work; for other people it’s over two or three months. Ever since I had to stay home, I said that I missed work generally for its environment and daily tasks. And I truly do miss this aspect: no room redecorating, nor the attempts to write my thesis, will make up for not being able to sit in our social room, making myself a cup of not-so-good coffee, and surviving through a 12-hour shift.

I thought that I would only miss certain individuals.

I’m a deep introvert, I have hypersensitivity and severe anxiety, and oftentimes I suffer from serious panic attacks. Only a few people from work know this about me. However, my workplace has been the source of the majority of my social interactions for the past 5 years. I have one friend from high school, one from my university, and the rest is… well, work. Every now and then, we would meet up for drinks, be it without occasion or for someone’s birthday. Those times I would always look for my comfort people, those that I completely trust. My anxiety acts up seriously whenever I’m around drunk people, or even strangers for that matter, so I dread being socially pressured to interact with someone I don’t particularly feel connected with. The fact that I’m the listener and observer is not an advantage in those interactions.

I feel like over the past year or so, I’ve gained a significantly wider range of people who care about me at work. I started feeling like a crucial part of the team and others started to make it quite clear to me with how excited they were to have a shift with me, or by simply worrying about me. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I started caring more about the sole atmosphere at work and contributing to it, rather than just being in it. I’ve also lived through a competition for a promotion, so that shone a light on me a couple of times. I found an important sense of belonging. My work is the place where I got outspoken and outgoing, because I gradually got comfortable there. It’s even safe to say that I’m a different person at work than at home. Still, in those two versions I’m very true to myself. We could see that as my only Gemini trait.

After some time at home, several mental health-related issues emerged. Hours and hours spent on talking to my therapist started to shape my reality without work and as it turns out, it started lacking its prime qualities which enabled me to breathe. When you lack certain aspects in life, even feelings, you tend to search for them unconsciously. I did so by dissolving into my work environment. No family is perfect, no way of upbringing nor childhood are ideal. I was sure I would be okay at home because I can care about myself, but it wasn’t enough. Being on the thin line leading to depression taught me that I used to supply myself with the missing pieces at work. Suddenly I craved each call from my manager about boring administrative things. I was dying to keep on messaging with my work friends. There were situations which showed me just how much those people care about me, and there’s nothing I desire more than being cared about.

Yesterday we broke the self-distancing rule, many times. I left my house for a social gathering for the first time in months and I was so, so terrified. I was panicking inside. I didn’t know who will be there, will anyone be willing to talk to me, how do we greet each other? I knew for a fact that I would hug my best friend from work, because we spoke about it briefly earlier. But the rest? How do we treat each other? Do we fear each other? Do we care about general statistics, or stick to the fact that nobody got sick for COVID neither in our workspace ever, nor in the whole agglomeration today?

The tone of my mind changed when I noticed my first friend. The guy who’s never been affectionate with me, who started taking me seriously only some time ago, yet counted on me the most in the race for promotion. When he saw me he didn’t wave, he didn’t fist-bump me as always. He casually reached out and gave me even bigger of a hug than I expected from him. My breathing slowed down and I smiled.

When more people started coming, nobody knew how to greet each other. It felt awkward at first. But there were some people who I wish changed their mind when they saw me. I only wish, because probably they would do so anyway. My manager and one of the trustiest people I know there now, he upped the game. The guys went his way to give him a proper high-five, but he stopped them. He said there are priorities and looked at me. And then he gave me the cozy bear-hug that I always dream of.

Solely seeing the people that I used to see on a daily basis was such a relief to me. I didn’t have to worry about interacting because watching them, smiling at them, and casually adding some things up to their stories… it all felt natural. During the whole night only once, a friend asked me why am I so quiet. Only one time.

My heart melted a couple more times that night. I got the pleasure of seeing the guy that no longer works with us but he’s still close to our team. We always had an exciting and loving chemistry between us two, almost as if we would make a good couple and we both knew it. We just appreciated each other, always enjoyed our shifts together, and then added a few affectionate gestures here and there. He woke up the crush that I used to have on him, when he greeted me. He was fist-bumping everyone, not breaking any safety boundaries, so I didn’t even stand up from my comfortable sit on the grass. But when he approached me he actually made the effort and leaned down to me, greeted me as everyone else, but then side-hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. My heart was full.

I hugged a lot with my work best friend, even though we didn’t greet each other at all: I was too stressed out. That night I got drunk not only with two soft beers, but also with love, friendship, and casual acts of affection contained within laughs and conversations. I didn’t need a girlfriend to walk me to the loo, but rather the most annoying at times but the most fun guy friend did it, made some drunken remarks about it, but then hugged me. I hugged a lot. I shouldn’t, but I did. My heart needed it. I didn’t care that some of those people were drunk as fuck, I just couldn’t care less. I was out with my team, they enjoyed my company, and I looked at the watch only once. Not once did it cross my mind to go home early. I didn’t want to. I was safe with my people. For the first time. All it took was a pandemic and loosing stable employment.

Oh, and my manager cares the most. He put me on the schedule for July. All he needs is the board’s approval.

I tossed around a lot that night. I felt very hot, quite sick even, so I started worrying that maybe I’ve gotten infected with the virus. But I don’t think I did. I just got drunk.

I love my people.