angiescrapchild

[gatual]

here's ur daily reminder to send ppl who comment on others ppls weight to shut the fuck up<3

[sweeethinny]

You’re The Right One - Chapter 1

There are people we would walk through the fire for, people we never imagined we could meet, and for James S. Potter, that person is Mira Hazel. The temperamental madwoman who was in the compartment next to him in Hogwarts' first year, and who has been by his side ever since. In the fifth year, however, Mira begins to gain another angle through James' eyes, however much he doesn't want it. You shouldn't look at your best friend that way, let alone want to kiss her every time they're close. He definitely shouldn't be jealous of her. She is just your friend, best friend, and James should put his head in place and forget about all this crazy stuff to avoid problems ... But he never went after problems, anyway, they always find a way to find him.

AO3

first of all, I would like to thank @theroomofreq​ who is beta of this fic, thank you very much for helping me to put this story in the world <3  this is a story that is almost finished in the original version, so my days of creative block will not hinder her progress

that’s it, thank u if you’re read till here, i hope you like my characters and my vision of the next gen <3

Walking excitedly among all the people, carrying his owl and bags in the cart, and rushing his parents every moment they were less than two steps behind him. James grinned from ear to ear on a lively September morning, the one where he would mark his first school year at Hogwarts.

''Let's go!’’ He pulled his father by the hand, who had stopped to show Lily, the youngest of the family, the huge dog that was walking illustriously beside the owner.

Both Harry and Ginny walked slowly to enjoy what would be the last time they would see their eldest son until Christmas, when they would force him to return to spend the festivities at home. For the father, it was a joy to see that little kid who barely reached his chest, saying what a great Quidditch player he would be and that Gryffindor would be, certainly, his house.

'' What if it happens to be Hufflepuff? Albus asked, a little frightened by his brother's enthusiasm that morning

'' It won't happen '' He rolled his eyes when none of the parents looked at him '' I'm too brave '' And the two laughed among themselves, thinking that the son was a copy, much more genius should be said, of the mother and the uncles Fred and George. And Harry was not ashamed to admit, that he saw himself much more in Albus, frightened by that determination, than by the flames of excitement that prowled James eyes. At least not at that age.

'' Come on, you and me first '' James barely waited for his father to hold the stroller bar, safely crossed the 9 3/4 barrier, reaching the spot where his eyes twinkled, and his whole body shook from nervousness and anxiety. Soon the mother with Albus and Teddy appeared, as always, the calm face of the woman making the boy brake and answer the silent request of '' wait! ''

'' How do you feel? '' Wizards were everywhere now, there were owls hooting, cats purring on their owners' legs, and frogs in the clothes of some, showing only their big eyes.

'' Anxious '' He spoke the truth for the first time, still smiling, but now a little more slowly. '' Do you think I'll be able to fly? '' This time he addressed his mother, speaking quietly so that only she could hear, watching Albus and Lily listening to his father's story about his first day there, while Teddy made some joke about how old he was. Ginny smiled kindly, warming the boy's heart, arranged the hair that fell in his eyes and rubbed his young face

'' Of course James, but if you have difficulties, which I doubt, we can train at Christmas '' He nodded, more hopeful this time. If her mother, a famous Quidditch player, had told him he could do it, then it would become true. Right?

'' Let's go just before the train leaves '' This time it was Harry who stirred, pushing the way while James saw the faces that would soon become known to him. Whether they are friends, colleagues, or enemies. (Even though his father made him swear that he would not start  unnecessary fights)

Smoke spread in the air, a lot of students - young and old - boarded the train and packed their bags in the cabins, then returned to hug their parents, be  scolded, or just talk. Heads floated in the window, students laughing excitedly with the anxiety of finally leaving, and James couldn't help feeling different.

'' I'm going to miss you, brat '' Teddy ruffled his brother's at heart hair '' First year is an important year .. write me if you need anything '' James nodded, slightly nervous as he watched the man change his hair for go dark like his, smiling a little too watery for his opinion

'' Me too. And ok, I will '' James hugged him, and then turned to his parents, almost feeling like he was about to scream in excitement and fear.

'' Be careful '' The father looked at his son, a little laughing and a little serious, raising his eyebrows '' I'm watching you ''

'' Ok '' He nodded excitedly '' And I know you will ''

"Take care, okay?" It was Albus' embrace, two years younger, tight and full of anticipation that made James smile without grace, his cheeks warm with that affection. As annoying as he could be, he would miss having someone smaller than himself to win the blame.

'' Yes, I’ll miss you too '' And then everyone got together for the squeeze, almost breaking his ribs, and making him blush with embarrassment '' No ... I can’t ... breathe ''

The little sister gave his cheek a wet kiss - which James automatically wanted to wipe but did not do when he saw his father's gaze - his mother had passed on some instructions about the houses and how he should be calm regardless of the choice.

'' The house that Hat draws will be the right one for you, and we will be happy regardless of the result. Write to us as soon as you can, preferably today '' He nodded laughing, thinking of the red and gold lion.

'' Now, listen '' The father had crouched down, keeping close eye contact, his green eyes almost bursting into orbit '' I don't want you to be around getting in trouble, understood? '' For the fiftieth time he nodded '' Don't worry if you are alone, people always arrive in the compartment , you can meet great friends inside '' Once again he moved his head

'' Stop being so melodramatic, man. '' Teddy laughed, winking at James, who seemed to have read the mind of the boy who was thinking about the whole castle to explore.

'' I'm going to send you news '' he assured, entering in the train

'' Every day. '' James frowned, eliciting laughter from his parents '' Answer us always, and if you need to ... ''

'' I know, Dad, I know ... Professor Longbottom can help me. '' The train started to leave, they exchanged a few more words, he waved at them as they got smaller, and then that was it.

James was finally on his way to the Witch School.

Anxious, he ran to the  single empty compartment  he found and began to contemplate the path they were taking. It seemed that magic was already taking place there, it was like the sensation of climbing up  a gigantic peak, analyzing the view from the top , the fall that he would soon make. It was scary, but impressively, it also seemed to cause a huge euphoria that would make him jump.

"Can I come in or is it full already?" The female voice woke him from his daydream. He had heard many love stories that began in train compartments , his godfather for example, swore he was one of those who unknowingly knew the love of his life. Grandpa, whose name he honored, met Grandma in one of those too. But if James knew anything, it was the  girl, a few inches shorter than him, with long blond hair braided, wearing a funny black cap and school robes, would not be his love.

She wasn't ugly, but she looked ... clumsy. Her eyes were large pits of the darkest pitch, the pupil barely visible, her  cheeks pink and large, eyebrows as clear as lashes (little more colored than the fair skin), and her  teeth a little apart, in addition to a pink lip fatty. Her legs looked  long compared to her  body, even under her robes, and her arms were thin, as if she had started to stretch-but only on some limbs.

'' Uh ... no. '' But you couldn't deny friends, of course. "You can sit down."

'' So ... '' She packed her bags '' It was full up front '' Justified herself by picking up a 'Quidditch History' book and sitting in front of him '' And I thought .... Hey, I think I know you from somewhere '' James blushed, even though he straightened up and tried to look more secure than he really was. Being recognized was never fun. '' You are Ginny Potter's son, I saw you on the Prophet's cover! My God, your mother is awesome '' She spoke in a way that her eyes almost popped, such excitement, gesturing and bulging her eyes.

'' I know '' James bragged, even if uncomfortable '' She's the best '' He spoke as if it were the most normal thing in the world. His mother had retired as a chaser  after Lily was born, however, he had gone to a few games and could remember it  being amazing. In addition, every time they played in the vegetable garden, the father had to sweat so that they would not lose by more than 100 points - even if someone on his team caught the snitch.

'' I want to be like her , you know .. '' The girl straightened up on the bench, pulling her legs up, leaning her back against the cold window, the book resting on her knees '' I want to play like that. '' James thought she was funny, but he didn't comment, a little scared by how intimidating she looked. '' My parents hate flying, but I like it. I mean, I’ve only  flown a few times, but it's soooo fun. '' He wanted to laugh, staring at her curiously. Her hair resembled Aunt Fleur's hair, long and light, but it was much less styled than the hair of the older woman  '' I really like to imagine myself playing. ''

''To imagine? Have you never played? '' The nameless girl denied, making a face

'' My parents are not the biggest Quidditch fans, so to go to a game, it was like Mass '' "Mass?" He frowned.

The blonde looked at him, this time curious, '' Yes, it's a muggle thing, you know, about religion, some are too long ... so the saying... '' James nodded

"Are you Muggle-born?" She shook her head, fiddling with the worn book unpretentiously, and then shrugged.

'' My parents are wizards, but my grandparents are muggles and I spent  a lot of time with my maternal grandmother, so '' she shrugged '' That's why I never played, I had no one, but I know how to play volleyball and maybe it will help me. And Tennis '' the girl shrugged again '' Anyway, your mom is a big inspiration to me, I wish I could have seen her play. ''

'' So ... you didn't say your name '' And again she moved, sitting forward and holding out her hand to him, which was full of different rings. James wondered if that girl could be weirder than Dominique. Or Aunt Luna.

'' Sorry, I was so excited ... I'm Mira Hazel. '' He smiled kindly

'' James '' Even though he didn't need to, he was happy to say '' What house do you think will be in? '' She straightened up again on the bench, without opening the book this time, looking at him with full attention.

'' I hope Ravenclaw. What about you? '' Mira Hazel said, as James grimaced.

'' Gryffindor, obviously. Why do you want that one? It's so full of ... idiots '' The girl raised her clear eyebrows, her body moving into an attack position as if she might pounce on him, much like a cat. James was concerned that she was carrying a cat beside her, but there was no sign.

'' My parents are from there .. You know. Gryffindor is not the only good house at school, if it were, it wouldn't make sense to have others, would it? '' James swallowed the words, arranging his back on the bench and thinking what he would say Next. Of course, his father had warned about this, but how could he not want to go to the house that housed his whole family?

Before he could give a bullshit answer that would make coal eyes explode, the cabin door was opened again, this time a boy with black hair and frightened eyes appeared, his cheeks flushed and what appeared to be a frog in his front pocket. "Sorry, wrong cabin."

When the door closed again, silence radiated over them, James too affected to admit that maybe, for a few seconds, she was right. Only the pages broke the silence,, as she leafed through the book almost aggressively,.Mira seemed to have read it many times judging by  the yellowish color that marked the edges, in addition to the lower spine looking punished with use. He thought of asking what Quidditch position she wanted - for he had imagined that if they both wanted to be keppers, they would fall off their brooms before the snitch was even released - but he kept the words to himself.

The food cart was not long in arriving, much to his delight, and the two bought what looked like food for five more, still without speaking a word, which was driving him crazy.

"Aha! I finally found you. '' The female voice broke through the air. Mira smiled at the chocolate frog, taking the card in her hands

'' Who did you find? '' James smiled when he saw Merlin smiling on his own card.

'' Hermione Weasley '' And as if it were pure gold, she carefully tucked it inside the Quidditch book.  '' My mother met her ... they made Runes together '' Mira nodded, seeming to talk to herself more than to him '' A very smart witch ... I should want to be like her too, don't you think? ''

'' Are you always this weird? '' He joked, happy that she had talked to him again. Her silence was claustrophobic, which was very strange, since Albus used to give him a cold shoulder whenever they fought, and it was never this bad. 

'' Ah ... no, I’m just nervous. '' It seemed like a lie, but he didn't say anything 

'' But tell me, what is it like? Having these people in your family '' Mira asked. 

James grimaced when he swallowed a Bertie Botts every flavor bean,  '' Ear wax, ew, I don't know how I was wrong. I thought it might be popcorn ''

''Normal '' He moved his shoulders, precisely choosing a bean, loving the taste of strawberry when he threw one in his mouth '' They are normal people most of the time '' 

'' It can't be normal '' She rolled her eyes '' There must be something extraordinary about being the son of Harry and Ginny Potter '' 

James tried to shake the thought from  his mind, remembering all the years living in his family and all the stories that he had heard (even if in half).

Sometimes it was quite difficult, people used to be so intrusive  at partie, s it was almost impossible for them not to be stopped by some journalist wanting to know the latest gossip that involved their name.

James thought it all sucked. It was very tiring.

He had thought that now as he was going to Hogwarts he could finally be James. Simply, James, and no longer,live in the shadow of his parents great deeds. Even if no one asked him to follow in their footsteps, stressing the irrecoverable losses they had made along the arduous path, he felt as if nothing he did was really interesting.

Going to Gryffindor, being a good keeper and a good student, was not just to ensure that his track record was brilliant, but to guarantee a place in the genius tree. He hadn't fought like his mother and father, but he had done something good while he was at school, proving his worth. Proving to be brave and fearless.

'' Except I can get a lot of cards from chocolate frogs more easily '' He smiled at the girl who laughed in denial, her cheeks turning pink again, and her eyes no longer seemed to carry the fury she had earlier presented.

She wasn't all bad, after all.

[...]

‘’James Potter .. what an honor!’’ Hagrid, a half-giant who always showed up at his house telling stories about strange and dangerous animals, smiled at him, hitting him on the back with a force that made him walk two steps forward.

‘’Hi Hagrid.’’ He returned the smile, looking  excitedly behind him and seeing the boats positioned.

After the rookies were summoned and put on boats, crossed the river below the night sky with few stars, Mira was beside him, her eyes looking like a part of the sky, shining with the magnificent view of Hogwarts. The castle looked bigger and more splendid than any photograph, description, or drawing he had ever seen and heard. It was real, grand, and now it was his new home.

As they left the boats and were led into the castle, the children's voices seemed to triple- the excitement of standing in that hall, waiting to be called up for the sorting. A tall, strong, well-groomed professor, showing a scar that cut his eyebrow and a little bit of his left eyelid, appeared. ,He explained the houses, the hat and introduced himself, Frank Johaan, Defense Against the Dark Art teacher . When they entered the Great Hall, which his father had spoken so much of, James thought he might fall over right there, looking at the tables, the teachers, the decoration above him, the walls laden with flags of the houses, the ghosts walking around. .. It was almost like daydreaming. No photograph  lived up to what James was seeing

And just as his father had informed him, when the time came, the Sorting Hat on a stool, looking old and worn, began to sing.

When Headmaster McGonagall gave a slight smile after welcoming the students - and James thought he saw her smile bigger when she saw him - Professor Johaan stood erect beside the stool, a scroll in his left hand and the right on top of the hat

‘’When I call your name, come here and sit down.’’

The names began, applause whenever the house was shouted at by the patched hat.With each person, the boy felt more apprehensive, looking around anxiously and seeing Mira from a short distance, looking confident, hardly even blinking during the wait.

‘’Potter, James Sirius’’ He could have sworn he saw the Headmistress getting ready in the chair to watch, making him feel even more nervous; And with weak legs, but without showing it, he started the long walk to the stool, everyone's eyes following him, and the teachers looking at him with curiosity. He took a deep breath before sitting on the stool and left his mind free, listening even to his heartbeat.

‘’Ah a Potter ... I know them so well. A brave heart ... ‘’ Said the hat, and he thought it was magnificent ‘’I can't help but notice, too big even for a giant's body’’. Without thinking, he looked sideways at Hagrid, who was smiling anxiously while sitting in one of the chairs set for the teachers. ‘’But would that only help you? .. A vast intelligence, certainly, but I cannot deny the truth ... Gryffindor!’’

The Gryffindor table rose to a fuss, eagerly applauding and welcoming him, with huge smiles and nods when he sat down, everyone congratulating him and talking about how amazing it was that they had a Potter there.

‘’Hazel, Mira’’ She walked confidently, not even blushing.  Her braided hair trailing behind her and her black eyes looking like two black holes in her pale face. She sat on the stool, waiting for the call, the sorting hat was put on, and stayed there for some time.

James’ godmother had told him about this, about students sometimes sitting up to five minutes waiting, they were students who confused the hat, they had many attributes that stood out and could easily fit in more than one house, as had happened with her.

The blonde was waiting in the same way as when she sat down, calm and seeming to assess with the hat, after what seemed like three or more minutes - he hadn't been there so long, and if he had, he would have died of anxiety - the hat screamed;

-Gryffindor!

His  house table began to clap again, the blonde descending cheerfully and full of smiles, greeting those at the end and sitting next to James, her eyebrows half-arched and in an almost balmy way, showing in her eyes

‘’It looks like we'll be colleagues, Potter.’’ Mira said as she raised her chin and exuding confidence , drawing a laugh from James. 

‘’So it seems.’’ And for some reason, he was happy with that.

[softliebgott]

LEMONADE LIPS AND MARSHMALLOWS

You and your family have managed a somewhat peaceful farm life during the war until you discover two soldiers, George Luz and Frank Perconte, raiding your barn. Disappointed, but nonetheless grateful for the army’s presence, you invite them to have dinner for a proper meal. We all need some Luz Fluff™, or just some softness in general. This is my first attempt at writing Luz, so go easy (pun? yes) on me 😅 

TRANSLATIONS: Oma = grandma, Hurensohn = son of a bitch, rag = 40′s slang for “make fun of”

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March 11, 1945

Sturzelberg, Germany 

Farm life, the absence of human pollution; sound, smell, and people themselves, until the American army came to settle in the town nearby. You didn’t mind. In fact, you were grateful. Germany’s dictator was losing his hold on the reins he sought to keep steady.

A dirt road, reminiscent of chocolate powder, cut past a field. Out of this empty land your family’s farm rose up with its buildings like a huddle of old, painted vessels floating in still water.

The sun embraced its newfound world with warmth that felt different than when the war was at its worst. Perhaps the earth felt it could finally breathe, knowing its body would no longer suffer great wounds from weaponry. It wouldn’t have to weep as it welcomed more of the dead. 

Walking the fields with your father, you bent down to pluck a ripe tomato from its brittle stalk, and then bit into it. Acidic, like an apple. Sweet, like a strawberry. Juicy, like a plum.

“(Y/N),” came your father’s gravelly voice. Knelt down beside a tomato stalk, he looked at you from over his shoulder. His gray eyes, rivaling the polished metal of a suit of armor, reflected the sun’s glare. The map of wrinkles on his face spoke of an incredible journey. His eye lines held echoes of laughter and warm smiles, while his forehead told of worries past and worries present. Sixty years of his story ingrained in him, telling of the man he became; kind, compassionate, and a little tired. Amused, he smiled. “What shall I tell your mother?”

“What both of us already tell her, papa.” You moved to his side, gripped his shoulder, and bent at your knees to whisper, “Rabbits.” You lifted your brow.

He chuckled, crow’s feet lines creasing the edges of his eyes. Your favorite laugh. The kind, when you were a little girl, you loved to feel rock his chest when you hugged him or fell asleep to in his arms. 

You straightened up, smiling impishly as you took another bite of your tomato.

“Perhaps before you tempt me to have a few, could you check the hens for eggs and milk Gerdy? Your mother is wanting to make *Oma’s Apple Cake.”

“Yes, papa.” 

You left the field, finishing your tomato as you headed for the barn. Pulling the wooden door open, light spilled in and washed over, to your shock, two American soldiers standing on a crate and raiding the eggs. One held a hen, while the other had been using his helmet to pile eggs into. Their attention was snagged by you.

“Guten tag, Fraulein.” The soldier holding the hen smiled. He gazed at you through deep-set, hickory brown eyes. A few strands of hair, similar in color to his eyes, hung loose over his forehead. His features, rugged, yet soft, seemed boyish. To you, it felt like he was one of those little boys who tried to grow up too fast.

You folded your arms against your chest, brow furrowed. “You have no right to be stealing.” You did not expect such behavior as this. It disappointed you. 

“Hey, Miss, we’re fighting Hitler,” the other soldier said. “I think we have a right.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. He was half right, but you were in no mood to argue, but to come to an agreement. “You won’t have a proper meal with just eggs. Come on inside and we’ll fix you something.”

The soldiers exchanged looks.

Leading them to your house, the soldier who had first greeted you matched your pace, eager in talking to you, while his friend muttered, “Luz, leave her alone.”

“Hey, what’s your name?” Luz asked.

“(Y/N).”

“I’m George. You sure do speak English well.”

“My mother wanted me to learn for when the British would come, but...”

George grinned, tuning his voice to a deeper tone in a British accent. “Ole Churchill needed an edge of Americanism in his tea.”

You giggled. “We are grateful that you are here.”

He had not made a woman laugh, or heard one such as yours, more attractive to him than woodland birdsong, in years. He wanted to hear it again, to see the way your eyes squinted, and to hear your jumbled words. The laughter and smiles of his friends would never get old, for he strove to give them those little pleasures. Now, he wanted to make you laugh so he could feel that warmth he lit for others.

Inside your family’s quaint home, you introduced the soldiers to your mother, who was washing dishes. “Momma, this is George Luz and Frank Perconte. I caught them stealing our eggs.” You looked as smug as a dog stealing a Christmas goose. “I thought we could make them a proper meal as compromise.”

“Oh, you boys shouldn’t have to steal to get a good meal. Come, sit down.”

Thanking her, George and Frank propped their guns against the wall next to the coat rack. You wondered how many lives those weapons reaped, and it made you think of your brother and cousins who had been drafted. No news had come of their deaths yet, and you often begged to God to spare them through muffled sobs in the night.

Frank offered the helmet-full of eggs to you, the edge of his mouth curling. His eyes reminded you of the chocolate your mother would melt for her cakes. Fine, smooth, and inviting. “Sorry for raidin’ your barn,” he said.

You smiled, taking the olive green helmet. “I’m glad to have caught you.”

As you moved to the counter, the wooden chairs behind you growled against the hard flooring as the men sat themselves. You looked over your shoulder to them. “Would you like some lemonade?”

“Boy, would I.” George beamed.

“Yeah, I’ll take some, too.” Childlike enthusiasm brimmed in Frank’s eyes.

You retrieved the pitcher of lemonade from the fridge and then reached for two glasses from the overhead cupboard.

“They are both such handsome men. They remind me of your brother and cousins,” your mother whispered. 

“I just hope they can come home.” You poured the lemonade into the glasses, its tartness rubbing uncomfortably at your nasal cavity.

“They will. I have hope.”

“Is hope enough anymore?” You questioned, heartache softening your gaze.

Your mother tilted her head, eyebrows squished together. Truth was, she had been trying to keep positiveness afloat, but you kept punching holes in the raft. She sighed, averting her eyes and continued to prepare the meal.

A traditional roast of heavily marinated meat, bread rolls, and potato dumplings were prepared. Your father had come in for a break, taken aback by the presence of American soldiers, but had immediately shook hands with them. He was just as grateful to have them here as you were.

“Hey.” Frank bumped his elbow against George, irked. “You gonna take all the rolls? That’s your third one.”

“What are you gonna do, Per-Short-Te, punch me over this nice family dinner?”

You quietly laughed to yourself. You and your parents hadn’t had a dinner such as this after your brother and cousins left. Light-hearted, and distracting their minds from wandering into those claustrophobic tunnels of anxiety.

George noticed your quiet laughter. He caught your eyes and his face softened. Unbeknownst to you, you had the right colors to paint him where the war had watered him down to dismal grayness. He didn’t want this dinner to end. He wanted time alone with you.

You sucked in your lower lip. You had been studying him throughout the meal when he wasn’t looking. You noticed how his bottom lip was fuller, and wondered if you could taste the lemonade if you’d kissed him. Fearful that he could decipher your thoughts in your expression, you forced your eyes down to your lap.

“How long will you be staying in Sturzelberg?” Your father asked.

You felt George’s boot touch your foot, and cold, static-y surprise overwhelmed your body. You glanced up to him as he took a swig of his lemonade. He winked, and heat rushed to your cheeks while you gained a heart beat between your thighs.

“Could be a night or two. We don’t usually know for how long wherever we go,” Frank replied.

“Hey, uh, where’s your bathroom?” George asked.

“Oh.” Your mother’s eyebrows perked up. “(Y/N), could you show this young man where the bathroom is please?”

You felt air catch in your throat. “Yes, Momma,” you said quietly, rising from your seat. 

Yours and George’s movements irritated the senior chairs, triggering arthritic creaks from their legs. You led George out of the kitchen and into the hall. The cornflower blue, floral walls were adorned with framed pictures and embroideries. The wall sconces, wearing earrings of long, fake crystals, often struggled to keep their territory lit as streetlights did at night. 

A bubble of awkward silence swelled between you and George, until he stopped to look at a portrait of a young man in uniform. “This your boyfriend?” He asked. 

“No, that’s my brother.”

“Do you and your family, uh...like Hitler?”

“No, no.” You shook your head. “We loathe him, and even more-so after the men in our family were drafted.”

“I have a theory that he wears a hair-piece. He walks outside one morning, and one gust of wind turns him into a chrome-dome with a penciled mustache. Mr. Honcho holds his bald head and whines.” George placed his finger below his nose to imitate a mustache, deepening and strangling his voice to mimic Hitler. “Hurensohn!” He spoke more, but of jumbled nonsense to rag Hitler about his energetic speeches. “He’s stompin’ away, and his SS boys are chasin’ after the hair piece down the street like it’s a loose dog.”

There it was. Your smile, your laughter. His new favorite sight and sound. His chest and stomach became lightweight, as if he had taken flight. Holy shit, I’m done for, he thought.

After you had shown George to the bathroom, you retreated to your room, wanting to do your daily ritual of looking at your favorite photo album. You sat on the edge of your bed, the album open and resting on your lap. The pictures it embraced featured your favorite memories all the way up until your brother and cousins put on their uniforms. You wanted to save the last few pages for when they would return.

You knew their smiles would either go into hiding or be wrung out of them like water from a cloth. Their laughter would be hard to beckon out, and their minds would be battered vases. You and your parents were determined to help mend those cracks with the priceless gold that came from love, such as the Japanese art form, Kintsugi.

Life would be different, but at least they’d be alive.

“This your room?”

You looked over your shoulder at George, his eyes bouncing about the area in childlike curiosity.

You smiled, closing the photo album. “Yes.”

He approached your bedside. “Mind if I?” He gestured to your bed.

You shook your head and set the album on your nightstand. The bed dipped with his weight, and for a moment you felt you would lose your balance and tip backward onto him. He laid down on his back, crossing his legs. “Jesus Christ, it’s like lying on a marshmallow.” He shifted uncomfortably.

You faced him, a smile playing at your lips. “What have you been sleeping on all war?”

“Uh, well, let’s see. Cold, hard grounds with a side of foxholes.” He turned his head to you. “But speaking of marshmallows, you got any?”

You went out to the kitchen to retrieve a bag of sizable marshmallows, earning questionable glances from your parents and Frank. When you returned to your room, you sat with George and indulged in the puffy treats. Your hands became sticky and little bits of white flesh lingered on your skin like how Styrofoam would. 

Your mind kept trying to yank you back to thoughts of your family in the army, and it occurred to you that since there was a soldier right next to you, you could ask him about things you often wondered about. “What has the war been like...?” You asked.

“Well,” George’s voice was muffled by his chewing. “It’s different for every guy. Different for every army. There’s good times, and there’s bad. Some guys try to make light of things to ease the bad, right? Well, take that for the time my boys and I were in England for continued training. Our commanding officer and drill instructor was Captain Sobel. He didn’t know what the hell he was doin’, and we were hidin’ behind this big bush and couldn’t break silence. That is, until one of the boys told me to mimic Major Horton to fuck around with Sobel.” 

George pulled out two marshmallows, shaping one to appear skinnier. He held it up in one hand, “Here’s Sobel, and here’s me.” In his other hand he held the normal sized marshmallow. He began to imitate Horton and Sobel, squishing the marshmallows to make it appear as if they were talking. He told the story, earning from you grins and giggles. “I got him to cut the barbed wire fence, and he ended up releasin’ a whole herd of cows. He got his ass chewed out by the Major later.”

He wasn’t sure if you were aware of the captivating picture you made when you smiled. He hoped you did. You were more enthralling than a pulsing light show of fireflies in the night, but it gave him the same feeling of being spellbound.

“There’s moments like that, and then the real thing comes out of nowhere.” George grabbed a handful of marshmallows and scattered them to represent the trees in Bastogne. As he told you about the sudden onslaught of German artillery, he ripped the marshmallows apart just as the trees had been. Boom. Rip. Boom. Rip. 

He seemed hypnotized, like a vampire obsessively counting rice. He was lost in the memory that haunted his dreams, stained his eyes with the blurred vision of black and white explosions, and echoed in his ears with the screams of Muck and Penkala. Numb, his voice went dull as he relived it before his eyes.

You didn’t laugh or smile, but this is what you asked for. What it was like. You wondered if you shouldn’t have asked. You had disturbed those memories, and now George was lost in their raging sea.

“Two of my buddies were hit directly in their foxhole...and the other lost his leg.” He was there again, innards trembling and his mind blank as he stared at Toye lying in the snow, his leg looking like messily butchered, raw chicken. 

“I’m so sorry...I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”

“Yeah...war is hell.” George didn’t meet your eyes. The liveliness had abandoned him.

Guilt-ridden, you cautiously reached for his hand, which clutched at the torn remains of marshmallows. You unlocked his grip, the pieces falling onto your bed, and tangled your fingers with his. The stickiness from the marshmallows welded your hands together.

He released a breath he had been holding and closed his eyes, the tension draining from his body. He squeezed your hand.

“Hey, Luz, c’mon. We gotta head back.” Frank’s voice sounded from the hallway.

George opened his eyes to you, his thumb stroking your hand.

You followed him out of your bedroom, having given him the bag of marshmallows. You didn’t want him to leave, but you certainly wanted to see him again. Whenever that may be. Thus an idea came to you. You snatched a small photograph of yourself from your mother’s China cabinet and wrote a note, your address, and phone number on the back in spidery handwriting.

“George, wait.” You approached him as he and Frank grabbed their rifles. You handed him your photograph, heart drumming. “A reminder that if you need a safe place to come to, it’s here.” 

George smiled at your picture, thinking, better than any pin-up girl. He carefully put it in his jacket’s inner pocket. “I’ll be seein’ ya, gorgeous, whenever this war ends.” He winked, popping a marshmallow into his mouth, and slung his rifle over his shoulder.

You had watched him and Frank leave the property, grinning when George looked back over his shoulder and smiled, his cheeks stuffed with marshmallows like a squirrel.

How you wanted to kiss those stubbled cheeks.

As the sun closed its blaring eye, you sat in bed, writing in your journal. Every sentence you tried to write started with George and ended with your heart wanting to burst open, less like gates during a flood and more like a peach growing on a vine. So ripe. So ripe, so ready for the fall.

A rhythmic tap at your window froze you. Could it be the wind using a tree branch to make its nightly tunes again? No, because you saw a human shadow, a cookie cutter shape in the pool of moonlight. You closed your journal and peeled the sheets and blanket away.

When you approached the window, your heart fluttered in surprise. George. You unlocked the window and slid it up. “George, what are you doing here?”

He awkwardly climbed through, almost stumbling to the floor. After you closed the window, you met his eyes, and you found where the sun had gone; in his smile, the warmth echoing in his voice. “I want to feel safe tonight.”

Heat rushed to your chest, and your body quivered as if on low blood sugar as George stripped down to a cotton white shirt and boxer shorts. He joined you beneath the covers, his dog tags clanking. He snaked a hand around your waist and pulled you snug against him, like two perfect puzzle pieces fitting. He caged you within his arms, and you felt a heartbeat much stronger between your thighs this time. He smelled like an ashtray, but you didn’t care as you nuzzled your face into his chest.

“You know, at first I considered you out of my league,” he said. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen into my arms.”

You laughed into his chest.

[shunsatan]

Headcanons for if Kaidou’s sister got a crush on Saiki

Fic time here we go babeyy. Starring the lovely Kaidou Sora.

It was a rough and cold day. One with winds that whipped you back and forth with no mercy. It was the kind of day that would gain your trust by having the sun tickle your skin, and then destroy the fragile warmth with a booming and freezing breeze. Sora wished she had stayed inside instead of going to the store to buy eggs for her mother. She cursed under her breath as another dreaded wind came and tangled her hair.

"Shun...? Shun!" She spotted her older brother loitering outside of another grocery store.

[[MORE]]

"...Sora?" He jumped, turning to face the smaller female "Oh, hey. Heading home?" She nodded.

"Well, I have Saiki with me. I can drive you home though" he turns to the pink haired boy who was still eyeing a rack of coffee jelly from outside of the store window.

"Drive? You can't drive. This isn't America, dumbass. You're not old enough to get a license and you don't even have any type of vehicle with.... you..." she slowed her words upon seeing him walk up and start a motorcycle with some unappealing (not to mention, chuuni) decorations; only shun would decorate something to look that stupid.

"I forgot you had one.." she awed. Though, the last thing she needed was more wind slapping her face "But no thanks. I'll walk. You don't even have an extra helmet."

Saiki turned to the bike he had been pure pressured into bringing. 'Yare yare' he mumbled as he sat down too fast, causing his head to ache. This place was crowded, so it made sense that his head would hurt naturally- or, that's what he thought until he saw Shun's sister getting kidnapped. Good grief. No way to sit still after seeing that.

'Hey' saiki called out to her, placing a helmet on her head. 'You can ride on the back of mine. It's going to be dark soon and then it'll get even colder.' He said, walking back to his motorcycle.

"Alright, fine" she got onto the seat behind him. Shun smiled at Saiki before starting his bike down the road, and the psychic then followed.

The wind came strong and angry. Sharp and bitter. It threatened to kick her off of the bike and caused her to have to wrap her arms tighter around the boy infront of her. He didn't care much for the wind. Nothing special, no reason for his heart to race because with his powers, his instincts don't sense danger. It wasn't much painfully cold, either. With his pyrotechnics it wasn't a problem at all.

Maybe I should tell him to stop... this is too cold Sora thought to herself

Saiki sighed as he used his fire power very carefully to bring heat to her body as well. He can't have Shun coming to school crying about his sister everyday. Especially when it's so easy to avoid.

This feeling...

Oh no.

it's gotten so warm... next to Saiki.. no, it must be that I... I have a crush..?

Good grief... this is uncomfortable the psychic thought

.....

And in days to come, the Jet Black Wing's sister would come to bother him about his friends. After that, her crush began to develop in a similar way to Chiyo. She would watch him with eyes that saw a round eyed prince. She would admire how smart and well mannered he is, and she would act especially polite when he made his presence infront of her.

Saiki Kusuo, was also thinking about her often. However; not in the way you might be thinking. He was forming strategies on how to avoid her. All of which were miserably failing. With her mother and his mother on her side, she couldn't fail. Discovering his family power structure, she would have Shun call Kurumi (his mother) and invite him over.

And with her own mother bothering Shun to hang out with his two "genius" friends everytime his grades would slip. Of course, Nendou rarely came because he was "always busy" (in reality, Shun didn't want Nendou and his mother interacting anymore in fear of her finding out that he's an idiot)

So, of course, this all worked out best for Sora.

.....

The group of four walked home like usual. Kuboyasu, Nendou, Saiki and Kaidou. They were discussing which character in Shounen Jump is the weakest while Saiki was praying for Nendou to ask them to ramen so that he didn't have to go to Kaidou's house again. Sora had been coming up with gifts for her crush so that he would take notice and start a conversation with her. Of course, she had almost no idea what would peak the boy's interest.

"Hey, Saiki. I thought maybe it would be a good time to ask you" Kuboyasu, the former delinquent spoke up. "Heard there's somethin' weird behind that 100 yen store. Wanna come check it out?" He offered.

Saiki almost shook his head and provided an excuse on instinct before remembering his main goal (to bLow up and act I like dont know nobody aghaghaghaa.) So he simply nodded.

"I wish I could come see!" Kaidou beamed before looking back down to the ground dramatically "yes... I wish I still had time to question those weird things around me... to leisure in activities like such. Though, I have a sacred duty at hand..." he clenched his bandaged fist

"Gotta take a shit? Me too" Nendou chimed in.

"NO, IDIOT! I have cram sch-- I um.. I m..mean I have to meet with the phantom force! Th-that I'm helping train to work as soldiers against dark reunion!!" He stumbled all over his sentence before finally turning his body to strut off over to the direction of his house.

"Shun. I need you to help me with.. homework" his sister quickly requested and dragged him into her room, pushing him on the floor infront of the small table that sat in the middle of the room, just like his.

"What can you tell me about your friends? Start with Saiki kun" she reached for a notepad and a pen.

"Shouldn't you be referring to him as senpai or something because he's a second year?" He mentioned before being cut with her glare. "R..Right! Okay, sorry... he likes sweets an-"

"Sweets and what!? Why'd you stop??" Sora pressed

"Why do you need to know about my friends? Is this a homework assignment..?" He questioned her

"Yeah sure." She rushed "he likes sweets and what?"

"Ohh! I think I remember having this assignment in middle school, too! You're supposed to write about your closest friends and their interests right~?" He thought back to his middle school year and looked at her with warm eyes. Empathy began filling his soft face, adjusting his features on her. "Sora, I couldn't make any friends in middle school either, so...!" He began "I've noticed you've been really nice to Saiki.. so if you want to be friends with my friends-!"

"I can make friends. I'm not some lonely loser like you who needs a hero complex to interact with people his age." She interrupted, sending an imaginary arrow through the highschooler's chest.

"Guh-- well if you don't want my help then in leaving!!" He stood up and caught notice of a small hand stopping him

"Wait! I'm sorry.." She got onto her feet and bowed "I'm just... embarrassed about not having friends." She lied, not wanting her brother to know she had the hots for his bestfriend.

Her phone chimed, once, and then again. It was three of her friends trying to reach her to hang out at the movies. Then she got a phone call, interrupted by another phone call.

"You should answer those" shun said

She hesitantly picked up the phone and answered the call.

"Put it on speaker" her brother ordered.

"...okay.."

<"heyyyy! Sora where have you been? Me and everyone else wanted to go to the movies with you. You're always knee-deep in studying so we wanted to help you relax a bit for once. You've been out of school for like, three days just shadowing and checking out Pk academy. It's still a while before we get into high school, grandma~! Anyway, the 7 of us wanted to show we love you by taking you to see that movie you mentioned wanting to see. So get ready, we want to be there by 7:30"> the girl on the phone ranted on before Sora could speak up against it, and hung up.

".....Shun-"

"SEVEN!?" he exclaimed as Sora rushed into another apology. This must be the first time he's ever made HER scared of HIM.

"Don't apologize Sora!! That's amazing, I'm so happy you have great friends... ahyuuu...." he teared up

"Oh... thanks, I guess"

"But one thing" he said and stopped her from leaving the room

"Huh?"

"Why did you need to know about my friends for that project?" He tilted his head

She looked over to the door knob as if she was begging it for help as her face was overpowered by a dark red hue. "W....we-well-- Sh...shut up! Get out! I need to get dressed!!" She pushed him out.

"Ow!! Ouch~! I'll leave!!" He practically screeched as he was rushed out. "But I'll stand outside of the door until you admit!"

A few minutes later, she yanked open the door and sprinted down the hallway. She knew her small brother wouldn't be able to catch her with how weak and slow he is.

But her little brother could.

She tripped and landed on her face after having her legs caught and wrapped in bandages by Toki Kaidou.

"Now tell me why!" Shun stood proudly over her despite not having done anything.

Toki went back to his room as Sora nearly freed her feat from the poorly tied bandages, that is before Shun, someone who actually knew how to tie a knot, fixed them.

"Fine!! Just let me go!" She yelled at him "I... is there any reason for it? I think he's cool. You can always have new friends. You're just stupid and think that 7 is the max" her face was once again drenched in a dark pink color.

"Oh my god." He said

"What!?"

"You like him!!!" His eyes widened as he stood up frantically. "You have a crush on Saiki!!"

"Yeah, so what about it!?" Sora snapped at him

Shun gasped "Sora!! You're only in middle school-"

"Yet I'm more put together than you are" she said defensively

"But that's still kind of wrong.. we're about to be third years and you're not even in highschool yet..."

"I will be by the time you're third years though!!" She shouted, then slumped down.

"Yes- bu-" he began, getting cut off

"I know. I just... I really like him and I've never liked a guy before. I know it's stupid." She sighed, defeated

"No no, Sora I'm sorry... You can't control who you like, right? I was being mean-" he began

"It's fine, you're right about it being weird. Just untie me so I can go to my room"

"What about the movies with your friends?"

"...whatever"

....

'Yare yare,' Saiki sighed, taking another bite from one of the homemade cookies Sora had anonymously sent him before placing it down and uncrossing his eyes. (he had checked with his powers and knows the cookies were from her)

'I guess it can't be helped' he sighed once more before sending out a telepathic signal

"Sora!" She sang as she knocked on the large door infront of her.

"Hello?" Shun answered and opened the door wider for the girl to come in "you're one od her friends!" He chirped "She said she isn't feeling well enough for the movies; I think you should try cheering her up."

"Oh, okay... um, where would her room be?" Upon entering the house, the girl suddenly grew nervous. For some reason.

"Here, I'll show you" Shun lead her to Sora's door and sprinted away to hide before the girl could knock on it.

"What do you want." Sora snapped after hearing the door knock

"Eek! Sorry, I just.. uhm...wa it's Yui! your b..brother let me in" she stuttered unlike how she spoke on the phone

The door opened and inside was a girl with messy hair and red eyes. An embrace came soon after.

I thought you might've needed a hug... Yui intended to say, but instead voiced out:

"You... h.,,hug. Yeah. Needed yes...mn"

Sora laughed, at first came a weak chuckle, then as the hug parted it became a strong belly laugh (upon seeing Yui's flustered face)

.....

"Shun!" Sora called, making the timid boy jump and start shaking from fear

"Y-yes?" He was sweating bullets

"I'm going to the movies with my girlfriend." She took Yui's clammy hand and headed towards the door.

Shun blinked. "Wh--"

[fanofafan2ff]

52: Arrived

Madison

I adjusted the blinds in the room so the sun wouldn’t come in as much. It didn’t matter though. Chloe was only going to sleep for an hour before she woke up because she either realized no one was holding her or she was hungry.

Is it possible that a baby could already be spoiled at six weeks? Because Chloe  Monét Brown was just that.

After Mijo and Mel’s wedding, it was like my pregnancy was moving in slow motion. The weeks were going by so slowly, I felt like I’d never hit 40 weeks. But when I did and sis still wasn’t here... I was completely over it! I was beyond uncomfortable, tired, sick, fed, and up- in that order.

Our doctor had given us a two week timeline and if she wasn’t out by then, I’d have to be induced. But, Little Miss Brown wasn’t having that. A day shy of being seven days overdue, my water broke in the middle of the night. I was surprisingly calm.. but all that flew out the window once my first contraction hit.

Thankfully, Chloe didn’t torture me for hours labor wise. I was already dialed to 4 by time we got to the hospital. It didn’t take me long to get to 10 before I was pushing. She was 5 pounds and 2 ounces, which surprised me because I thought she’d be a little bigger than that.

And as young as she was, she already had a personality of her own. She loved to be held and cuddled by everyone, especially Christian. He loved his sister and nobody could tell him anything about his Coco. That’s what he called her and he made sure nobody thought they could call her that too. He was already so over protective of her.

It was definitely and adjustment, having both him and Chloe. Having two kids was no joke. It was extremely difficult about three weeks ago when we got to take her home. He was having kind of a hard time realizing he wasn’t the only child anymore. He had a whole tantrum and even told Chris and I that we liked the baby more than him.

My poor pumpkin felt like we didn’t love him all because he wasn’t the center of attention anymore. In a way it was cute but also concerning. Dr. Lopez had informed me about stuff like this happening but to actually see it was crazy. So one night, after dinner, we made sure to sit down with him and just talk things through.

We let him know that even though Chloe was getting a lot of attention it didn’t mean we loved him any less. And once we incorporated him into her routines, he couldn’t get enough of her. He loved taking naps with her and whenever he’d wake up before her and she started fussing in her sleep, he’d rub her back just the way Chris and I taught him how to so she would doze right back off to sleep. He especially loved to give her his special big brother good night kisses.

Sometimes I swore this wasn’t my life.

It was around 10am, so Christian was in school today and wouldn’t be home until around 4:30. The house was clean and quiet and I was in heaven.. at lest for another hour. I made sure to readjust the baby monitor so I could see her clearly on my phone and pulled up the door before exiting and making my way to the bedroom.

Since giving birth six weeks ago, I’d already dropped 20 pounds which I was grateful for, since I’d gained damn near 50. I’d been eating better, trying to exercise, and breast feeding helped a lot too. All the extra weight on me just didn’t make me feel like myself and I hated it. This shit had to go.

I sheded my pajamas and pulled on some compression shorts and a T shirt. I slipped on the first pair of Nikes I saw and sauntered downstairs to the gym.I kept the baby monitor app up and watched Chloe’s chest fall and rise and she napped in the dimly lit room. I popped one of my Airpods in and started some music up while I started the treadmill up.

MoneyBagg Yo’s voice flowed through my ears as my fast walking turned into strides. Not before long I was in a groove and jogging at a nice pace. I wasn’t anywhere near where I wanted to be weight loss wise. I intended on losing the 50 pounds I’d gain during this pregnancy and well as an additional 20. All together, I needed 70 pounds gone.

Of course everyone around me though my weight loss goal was crazy, seeing as though I was only six weeks postpartum, but I needed this time in the gym for myself. I hadn’t been working as much while I was pregnant with there being so much going on so there was that. After giving birth, I was stuck in this routine of being a stay at home mom and I never saw this for myself so it was weird.

But breast feeding full time came with a lot, so I told myself I’d give it 6 months and then slowly ween Chloe off my boob. After that, I’d go back to working and getting my business back on track. My pockets weren’t hurting for cash at all, thank God. But, I never saw myself living doing the stay home mom thing for real.

And you know who was supportive the who every step on the way when I told them my plan.

Christopher Maurice Brown.

I’d told him my weight goal and before I could even get the reasons why out of my mouth he was already asking if I needed him to get me a trainer. He even vowed to get healthier with me. He wanted to know what he could do to help me out of the funk of the stay at home mom routine. He wanted to help me revive my business. He just.. was everything. I really loved that man to the moon and back.

It was having his support that made literally everything so easy.

Especially with the kids. Chris made sure to make his family a priority- even while having a million and one things to tackle. He was front row center for everything that had to do with Christian and Chloe. He was getting Christian to school and packing lunches, he was changing diapers and rocking her back to sleep when I was too tired to move.

I just really had to thank God for blessing me with this man, even with everything we had been through.

An hour later I had ran about 3 miles, did ab workouts and also worked on my glutes. I was feeling good. I made my way back upstairs and checked on Chloe. I was surprised she hadn’t woken up yet. I used to time to indulge in a super long shower. I even got to wash my hair. She’d not only help my gain a little more junk in the trunk but my hair had grown an extra five inches. I was so thankful. My hair needed a break from wigs and extensions.

After I got dressed and ran some product through my hair, I climbed back in the bed and got comfortable. As the weeks went by she was sleeping a bit more soundly and I was so thankful. I finally had a moment to myself and decided to indulge in social media.

I honestly hadn’t been on there in a while. Between being so busy and actually not caring about what people posted for real these days, I only found myself on here when I had a few minutes of down time.

Cute outfit.

New boutique.

Cute hair style.

“Oh, her nails are bomb.” I said out loud to myself. I continued to scroll through my feed making sure to like a few things. I could feel my eyes slowly getting heavier as I scrolled through my feed. I double checked that Chloe was okay and decided to take a nap. I made sure to set an alarm for 1pm, ensuring that I’d sleep for at least 45 minutes.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep when I felt wet lips on my face. “She sleep man.” Chris laughed. “But I missed her today.” Christian whispered. I guess he wasn’t trying to wake me up. He was the cutest, I swear.

“Hi pumpkin.” I giggled. He crawled back over and suffocated me with a mini bear hug. “I made Coco a picture today at school.” He boasted. “Oh, you did?” “Yeah, and daddy said I could show it to my grandmas cause they’re gonna come today.” He rambled. Today?

I look at over Chris who was shaking his head at Christian. “Yooo.. you can’t hold water.” He laughed. “Surprise.” Chris shrugged. “Aw, they’re coming?” I smiled tiredly. “Yeah they should be here tonight. I knew y’all was missing each other and they wanted to come see Christian and Chloe. So, I got em some flights and they’ll be staying here for a week or two. And you need the help when I leave.” He said.

He would be leaving for a promo run for his album next week. He’d only be gone for a week and a half, but that seemed like forever these days. We’d spent so much time together lately I honestly forgot what it was like to miss him. And I really didn’t want to remember.

“You’re the sweetest.” I said honestly. “Gimme kiss.” I puckered my lips for him. He leaned over and pecked me quickly. “Ew.” Christian gagged. He got himself off the bed and ran to his room which made Chris and I laugh. I swear he was so dramatic.

I grabbed my phone and checked the time to see I’d only been sleep for 30 minutes. I checked the baby monitor app and saw Chloe was still sleeping. “Why did you pick him up so early?” I asked. He still had a cool 3 hours left. “I missed my son.” He shrugged. He eased on the bed and laid himself right on top of me making me laugh.

“Whyyyyy?” I whined. “Cause I missed my wife too.” “Fiancé .” I corrected. He kissed his teeth. “Fiancé.” He mocked in a voice that was supposed to sound like mine that made me laugh. I placed both my hands on his face and gave him another kiss. “Did you check on Chloe when you got in?” I asked. “Yeah, was still knocked out. That titty milk be having my babygirl gone.” He laughed before rolling off of me.

He placed his arms behind his head and got comfortable. He done a white T shirt, grey Nike shorts, and some socks. His was growing out his facial hair and slowly but surely, his beard was connecting. The scruffy look worked for him. But then again, what doesn’t? He looked so comfortable.. yet so fine.

“Madison.” I heard before snapping back into reality. “Huh?” “Where yo ring at?” He asked. I looked down at my left hand immediately. Shit, where did I put it this time? “I think I took it off in the bathroom last night.” “You think?” He chuckled darkly. “Aight.” He nodded before rolling out the bed and heading to the closet.

My ring was just a little too big for my finger, so it was always sliding off my finger whenever I wore it. Chris and I meant to get it resized but, it’s just been too many things going on. I kept telling myself I needed to do it as soon as possible because I was truly sick of us having this petty argument.

I got up and made my way to the bathroom. I opened the small jewelry box on my vanity and pulled my ring out before slipping it on my finger. I sauntered into the closet and watched as he pulled one of his million duffle bags from the shelf. He had been putting off packing for his trip for days but he was just ready to do it now.. all of a sudden. He was so aggravating I swear.

But, honestly, I was in no mood to argue today. I walked up behind him as he sorted through his Nike collection, trying to pick out some shoes. I pouted as I wrapped my arms around him. “Don’t be mad at me.” I whined. “I’m sorry. See, I put it back on.” I extended my hand so he could see.

“Cool.” He uttered, not even bothering to take a look at the ring. I walked around and stood in front of him. I put his face in my hands for the second time today. “Christopher. Stop being petty.” I rubbed over his ears to relax him a bit. “I keep telling you, it’s too big. I don’t want it to fall off and I don’t want to lose it so I take it off. You think I’m trying to look single out here or something?” I asked.

"I have two kids, nobody’s gonna want me.” I shrugged. The joke made him kiss his teeth. “Stop being mad at meeee.” I continued to whine. “I’m not mad.” He ensured. I let his face go and he continued to sort through his shoes. “I just want you to wear it, alright? I love seeing you have it on your finger.” He explained. “We getting it resized before I leave. Cool?” He asked. I nodded and puckered my lips for a kiss.

He bent down and got dangerously close to my lips before pulling back, “Ha, you thought!” I hated when he did that shit. “You’re not gonna kiss me?” I pouted. “I’m good love.” The side eye I was giving him was vicious. He thought that shit was so funny. I nodded and backed away from him. 

“Keep that same energy, Brown. Keep that same energy. Cause when I get clearance from my doctor next week, you’re gonna be sick. You’re going to live in the doghouse. Better get real acquainted with that left hand, play boy.” I stuck my middle finger at him and made myself comfortable on top of the island which was a few steps away from him. 

He looked back at me with a playful smile. 

“Cap.” He muttered. I lifted my eyebrow, daring him to continue. “I know your body like the back of my hand. You just went six weeks without this dick. And if you put me in the doghouse.. you gon be sick.” He chuckled. “Why does this sound like a bet?” I grinned.

“What you tryna put on it, baby mama?” He asked as he walked over. He knew what he was doing. His hands immediately came in contact with my thighs. He ran small circles over them while staring in my eyes. Ugh, I couldn’t stand him. 

“Let’s put a week of dirty diapers on it.” I said pushing his hands of me. He found it funny but nodded anyway. “Seal it with a kiss?” He asked puckering his lips up. I learned forward and just before we could kiss, I backed up and placed my hand in his face. “You thought!” 

---

“What she said sis? That pussy is clear for take off!” Kaya clapped. “Pchttt!” Ashley cosigned making the worst airplane sound I’d ever heard in my life. I laughed obnoxiously loud as we sat in the back of the Mexican restaurant. 

I had just left my 6 week check up and I was all good to have sex again. My health was in good shape as well, and I’d lost an additional five pounds. I was feeling good. I had been locked in the house for weeks and I needed to get away and just breathe. So, Mel decided we could all have lunch together. 

Both my babies were at home with both their grandmas. The love and support I’d been smothered this week was so needed. Chris left a few days ago and I was really missing him. Christian would get so sad when he wasn’t here to bring him to school everyday, but Chris promised they’d pick right back up where they left off. 

Both Mama J and Tasha were loving being here with them, but honestly, I think I loved it more. They wouldn’t let me do anything but breastfeed her Chloe. After I’d feed her they’d whisk her away from grandma time which gave me time to catch up on some sleep. My skin and body were so thankful for it. My dad was a bit too busy to take off work but he’d let me know he’d be out to visit soon. I felt like it had been so long since I seen him. 

“It’s just a shame that yo husband ain’t here to be the pilot.” Mel nudged me. I hadn’t told them about the bet and I wasn’t going to. They would root for Chris anyway. I only giggled i response to her words. “I do miss him.” I admitted. It had only been a week and I was ready for it to be over.

“So when are you gonna start planning the wedding?” Mel asked. I shrugged. “Any theme in mind?” Another shrug. “Who’s the maid of honor?” Kaya asked. Another shrug. I literally had no idea. And honestly, the wedding wasn’t on my priority list right now. 

Our waiter came over to the table and somehow Kaya convinced me to get a margarita. I was only having one to celebrate my health and I knew I had to pump and dump my breast milk for the next few hours. I was so glad I’d decided to pump before I decent amount before I had left this morning. 

After a few sips, I was already tipsy. I had never been a light weight, but being away from alcohol for so long had me feeling like I was a college freshman again. It wasn’t before long that I was officially drunk. Shit, it was barely 1pm and I was gone. 

The girls immersed themselves in girl talk as I quickly sent a message on my phone. 

I miss you. 

And your dick 😢

I was trying my hardest to not lose this bet Chris and I had going... but fuck. 

We had sex up until I was about 8 months but after that I literally just couldn’t bother. I was so uncomfortable those last couple weeks I didn’t want to be touched. But, in this moment Chris was making me eat my words. 

I was sick.

I stared into space quietly and I could see myself laid out in the middle of our king sized bed with my legs spread open while Chris sucked on me like his life depended on it. I blinked, and I could see him pushing my thighs back into the mattress and he pounded into me and whispered how good I felt in my ear. I had to take a breath because it’s was as if I could feel every bit of it. 

“Hello?” Ashley snapped. “Did you hear me?” She asked. “Sorry, what?” “I said, I’m single. I’ve decided to devote this year to myself and career.” She shrugged. “So, no more fucking Austin?” I asked. “Nope.” She made sure to pop the third letter. 

“Well, I’m gonna try not to.” She laughed. “Fuck, I just be having them stupid ass moments of weakness when I’m drunk. And Austin never tells me no. That’s he problem!” She reasoned. “Why toxic dick be so goooood?” She whined. “Preach, sister.” Kaya clapped. 

“I’m just gonna keep the focus on myself. Stay celibate- to the best of my ability. Build my brand and kill shit. Period.” She signaled with her hand. “Well, you got our support babes. Always, you know that.” Mel chimed in. “Plus, you know we gon call you the fuck out if you start fucking him again and don’t tell us. Yeah, bitch I’m still salty.” Kaya rolled her eyes. 

Once all the hoopla around Mel’s wedding went away, Ashley spilled her guts on her and Austin messing around again. Turns out they had been having sex wayyyy longer than anyone knew about. She thought he was trying to rekindle the relationship, but turns out he just really wanted to keep having sex. He was stringing her along and once she picked up on it she was out. She would slip up a few times though. 

Ashley rolled her eyes right back. “Well, like I said, toxic dick be good.” She said making us laugh. “I think I wanna move to Atlanta with Ant.” Kaya blurted out. My eyes bulged. That was a big ass step. Especially since Kaya was so strategic with her love life now. Ty really fucked her head up. It took a while for Ant to get through to her, so to hear that she was thinking about moving to another city for him was big.

“Yeah, I know.” She let out a nervous laugh before shrugging. “Wow, that’s big Kaya.” Mel weighed in. “Crazy thing about it is... I’m not even afraid to do. I think... I’m gonna do it.” She sighed. “Am I crazy?” She asked. 

“No!” We agreed in unison. “You love him, and if you think y’all are ready for that step, we’re behind you 100 percent of the way.” I stated. I’m sure Ashley and Mel felt the same way and my sentiments were correct when they chimed in with the nods and words of approval. She looked like she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

“Wait.. that means we’re not gonna be a foursome anymore.” Ashely stated. “Bitch, we gon always be a foursome! The fuck. I wish y’all would have a bitch try to take my spot.” Kaya ranted. I swear we could never have a moment. 

We continued girl talk and I had decided to have one more margarita and take another shot or two. I was officially down for the count. Mel wasn’t drinking really and opted to drive me home. On the way home, I couldn’t shake the feeling between my legs. I really missed my man. 

He still hadn’t texted me back so I decided to call him. No answer. I sighed and slipped my phone back into my Birkin. I was over it. We pulled up to the house maybe about five minutes later and I let Mel know she didn’t have to come inside. I walked up the driveway and slipped inside the house quickly. 

I immediately noticed how quiet it was so that could only mean no one was home or they were all asleep. I waltzed in the kitchen fumbling with my bag as I tried to pull my phone out. My eye cause the pink reminder slip hitched under the magnet in the kitchen. 

Took the kids to the zoo. We should be home around 4. Love you!

- Mama and Tasha 

They were so cute. I found it funny that they never opted to just text me, they always left notes. I sighed at the quietness throughout the house and grabbed a bottle of water out the fridge. I downed the water quickly before shuffling up the steps and into the bed.

I needed nap.

I stripped myself of my jeans and bra and snuggled into the bed with just my shirt and panties on. The buzz I had was going to make for a excellent nap. I yawned and hummed for a few minutes before I felt myself drifting off. 

I stirred when I felt cold hands on my skin. They ran from the top of my thighs down to my knees and then back to my thighs again. A pair of lips connected to my neck next and I thought I was dreaming when I saw Chris staring back at me. 

“So what you missed more? Me or this dick?” He asked before planting his lips on mine. “Definitely the dick.” I giggled. I wasn’t even about to ask how he was here right now. All that mattered is that he was. I pulled him down for another kiss. “I missed you... so much.” I mumbled in between kisses. 

“I.. missed you...more.” He replied. His tongue instinctively found its way into my mouth and I let him take control. He used his knees to spread my thighs so he could lay in between them. He pressed himself against me and I could just feel how hard he was. I was still a little buzzed which made all of this feel even better.

He helped me out my clothes quickly before pulling off the shirt and Nike shorts he was wearing. With barely any foreplay, I was soaked and ready. He began running the head over my clit which sent shivers through me. He literally watched as I got wetter for him. I was sick of him playing with me. 

As if he knew how antsy I was getting he stopped the teasing and began pushing my thighs back so they were touching the mattress. It always amazed me how flexible I could be once it involved taking dick. He used one of his hands to guide himself to my entrance. He began teasing me again, and just before I could protest, he slowly slid inside me. 

I gasped and instinctively sent my hand to his lower torso. He pulled out some before sending a few more inches inside of me as I cried out. “Shitttt.” I sighed. He moved slowly as my body got reacquainted to his size. Once he sensed that I fully adjusted he picked up his speed. 

I could hear how wet I was over our skin slapping together. The beautiful harmonies our bodies created made me even wetter. His hand found its way around my neck and my eyes rolled at the pleasure the lack of oxygen sent me. I shut my eyes for a second before I moaned and forced them open to look him in the eyes. 

He was concentrated on watching collide. “Fuck.” I heard him groan before looking away and finally into my eyes. “You lost.” He grinned.

[ladylillianrose]

First Comes Marriage a Max Richman/Zoey Clarke Fanfiction

Summary: Max's grandmother left him a trust fund, but in order to receive it, he has to do one thing first...

A/N: Well I'm back with a new one you guys! I'm excited for this, I've had it planned for a bit! So I hope you all enjoy!

Lee and Caroline belong to the wonderfully talented Jade4813 (Go see them in her fic The Wedding Date, sooooo good!)

Thank you as always to my wonderful, fantastic, amazing beta AubreyRichman!

Chapter One

One Year Ago 

"Wait, your Dad took away your trust fund?" Zoey put down her menu and stared at Max. "But I thought you couldn't even access it until you were 30 anyway."

"That's just it, he's decided that since I won't come work for the family business, then I'm not getting anything from the family," Max shrugged his shoulders. "It's not like he took away money that I was using. I just had hoped to be able to use that money to buy a house, maybe start my own tech business."

Zoey reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "I'm so sorry, Max. That's really unfair of your dad to do that. Doesn't he know how amazing you are at your job? How much you enjoy it?"

Max scoffed, "You say that like it matters to my dad, but you know how he is."

Zoey winced, she had met Andrew Richman once when he had been in San Francisco for a business trip. It had been one of the most uncomfortable dinners she had ever been at.

Max felt his phone vibrate and he answered, "Hello?.... Yes, this is Maxwell Richman…. Yes, I can come by….An hour? Okay, see you then."

Zoey looked at him puzzled as he hung up the phone. "Who was that?"

"My lawyer. He says there's something important to discuss with me about the trust. Probably just have to sign something to make it formal. I'm sorry I've got to cut our lunch short, but I need to head over now," Max said grabbing his jacket.

"I'll let Joan know you had an emergency appointment," Zoey said.

"Thanks, Zo, you're a lifesaver," he threw her a smile as he dashed out the cafe door.

________________________________________________________________

SPRQ Point

Zoey watched as Max slowly walked from the elevators to his desk. 

"Max," she called. "Max?" he didn't respond. Zoey stood, walking over to him and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hello,  Earth to Max."

"Huh?" Max turned around and looked at her confused. "Oh hey, Zoey," he mumbled.

Zoey frowned, she grabbed his arm and dragged him to the meditation room.

"Are you okay? What happened with the lawyer?" she looked at him worriedly.

The word lawyer seemed to snap him out of his daze and he began laughing.

Zoey was more than a little concerned now. "So, I take it that you met about more than signing away your trust?"

Max shook his in amusement, "You're not going to believe what happened."

She stood quietly waiting for him to continue.

"Apparently, there is a second trust for me, from my Grandma Miriam," Max began.

"But that's good news, isn't it?" Zoey asked.

"In theory, yes, but Grandma Miriam has a stipulation that has to be fulfilled before I gain access to the trust."

"What, you have to get married or something?" Zoey teased.

Max nodded.

"Oh my God, I was joking! You have to get married?!"

"I have to get married. Once I've been married for five years, then I gain access to the trust," Max explained.

"Did it say anything about needing to stay married?"

"No, I asked that too. Once the five years are up and I have the money, that's it."

"Then we find someone for you to marry who understands that it's only a temporary thing. And in five years you get a divorce," Zoey reasoned.

Max laughed, "Oh sure, like that's easy. I'll just start proposing with ‘Hi, would you like to be my wife in name only for 5 years, and then we get divorced? I'll make sure you are compensated at the end of it.’"

"As proposals go, it's hardly romantic, but yes, I'll marry you, Max," Zoey replied.

"I mean who in their right mind….did you just say you would marry me?" Max looked at her in shock.

Zoey shrugged, "I mean, you're my best friend, and you need my help, so why wouldn't I?"

Max was aware that he was staring at her, but he couldn't help himself. His best friend had just agreed to legally bind herself to him for the next five years.

Zoey took his face on her hands, "Max, it's fine. We'll get married, and in five years you'll get your trust and you can make me a partner at your start-up company. Deal?"

Max looked at Zoey, "Are you certain?"

Zoey grinned, "I'm game if you are. We're best friends, how different can being married be?"

________________________________________________________________

San Francisco City Hall

"Do you, Maxwell Richman, take Zoey Clarke, to be your lawful wedded wife? To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish as long as you both shall live?"

Max looked at the woman standing across from him, his best friend, and the only person willing to do something this insane for him. He grinned, "I do."

The judge nodded and turned to Zoey, "And do you, Zoey Clarke, take Maxwell Richman, to be your lawful wedded husband? To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish as long as you both shall live?"

Zoey smiled at Max, she knew this was a crazy plan, but she would do anything for him, even something as life-changing as getting married. "I do."

"Do you have the rings?"

Max's brother, Lee, handed them to the judge before taking his seat next to his wife Caroline. They had flown out for the ceremony after Max had explained everything to them. Max and Zoey had decided that the fewer people who knew about their marriage the better.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," the judge said, with a smile at the couple.

Max looked at Zoey who was staring at him slightly flushed and wide-eyed. In all their rush to get everything taken care of, they had forgotten about the kiss.

Zoey bit her lip and nodded slightly at him, letting him know it was okay. He sent her a reassuring smile, after all, what was a simple kiss between best friends?

Zoey swallowed the squeak that threatened to emerge from her, as she felt Max's soft lips pressing against hers. She returned his kiss hesitantly at first, before allowing herself to get lost in the moment.

Max pulled back, gazing at her flushed cheeks and parted lips. He felt himself leaning in for another kiss when Lee and Caroline began clapping.

Caroline pulled Zoey in for a hug, "Now you're officially part of the Richman family! It's about time I had someone to talk to!"

"Hey, don't I count?" Lee protested.

"You're my husband, you have to talk to me," Caroline teased.

"See what being married gets you?" Lee said turning to Max. "Nothing but trouble."

Caroline rolled her eyes, "You say that like you don't love every minute of it."

The judge cleared his throat behind them and gestured for everyone to sign the marriage license. Once they had all signed he bid them good day and left the room.

"Sooo…." Zoey started, unsure of what they should do now.

"Shall we go celebrate? Dinner's on us, consider it a wedding present!" Caroline offered.

Max grinned at Zoey, "Why not, it's not every day that we get married."

"Come on, I know just the place," Caroline said, leading them out of the room.

_______________________________________________________________

"To Max and Zoey!" Lee toasted, as the four of them clinked their glasses. "I'd give a whole speech but since you didn't give us much time to prepare I didn't write one. So, I will simply say congratulations and wish you luck and happiness in the five years to come."

Max glanced over at Zoey as he took a sip of his champagne. She was laughing at a story Caroline was telling her, no doubt about his younger days. Zoey turned to smile at him, and he felt his breath catch. She looked lovely, her cheeks flushed from laughter and champagne. His eyes drifted down to her lips as he remembered the feel of them on his. 

No, no, no. This is not good. Yes, she's your wife, but you are just friends and nothing more. You cannot have these feelings for your wife….Fuck….

A/N: Vows are the ones used in civil ceremonies in San Francisco https://zoelarkin.com/san-francisco-city-hall-wedding-vows/

[kittysukagasterfics]

The Truth Behind The Mask

Thank you all for the lovely notes on Part 1! I’m glad I got all my facts right the first time! Fair warning for this one, it’s going to be very sad. I apologize to your poor SOULs in advanced. Also, this does contain sensitive topics so if you’re uncomfortable with that, I would recommend not reading this. Anyway, onto the fic!

Handplates belongs to: @zarla-s

Requested by: Anonymous and Me

Summary: Part 2 of ‘Haunted By The Past���. Read Part 1 before reading this fic. Gaster wonders about the Human’s life back on the surface and if they actually want to stay with him and the brothers. What was the Human’s past life like?

    “*You ask Gaster what his condition is.”

     The Human and Gaster were sitting on the couch in his office. Gaster had just got done telling the Human his past and they were currently waiting to hear what ‘terrible fate’ they would have to suffer. He looked at them dead in the eyes.

    “Human, are you happy here, in the Labs I mean? Be honest with me, please.”

     They gave him a confused look. Did he really just wanted to ask them a question?

    “*You tell him that you are happy here.” ‘*He doesn’t look convinced...’

    “I thought I told you to be honest, Human...”

     The Human reassured him that they weren’t lying nor would they ever lie about anything like that. The Human also told him that they love staying there with the brothers and him. They went on asking him why he would even question that in the first place. What he told them made them freeze up.

    “I just figured that you might miss your friends and family back on the surface. Don’t you think your loved ones might missing you as well?”

     No response from the Human. They just stared at the table with a blank expression. Gaster placed a hand on top of theirs, a concerned expression on his face. Did they not hear the question maybe?

    “Human? Did you hear me?”

     They slowly nodded but still didn’t answer. Gaster was very concerned about them now. He grabbed and tilted their head so that they were facing him.

    “You’re really worrying me now, Human. What’s wrong? Did my question make you uncomf-”

    “*You tell him that you have no friends or family.”

     Gaster went silent at this. He wanted to desperately believe the Human was lying but by the look on their face, Gaster knew that they weren’t. Not only was he more concerned now, Gaster wanted to learn more. He asked them to elaborate more on their statement.

    “*You tell him you honestly don’t want to talk about it...”

    “And what if I told you that’s what my condition is?”

     The Human just turned their head away, refusing to say anything. Gaster thought about what he could do to make them talk when he got an idea. Gaster then asked them if they remembered how they mercilessly tickled him yesterday. They said that they did although clearly confused about why he was asking about it all of a sudden.

    “Then maybe instead of talking, you’ll just have to endure one hour of revenge and-”

     The Human immediately scooted away to the other side of the couch, hugging their arms around their torso and trying to protect their sensitive spots. They knew he wasn’t joking either so it seemed like they had no other choice. The Human gave a long sigh of defeat.

    “*You reluctantly say you’ll tell him if he promises not to tickle you.” ‘*He nods in return.’

     Sliding back over to Gaster, they laid their head in his lap and began their story:

    “*You began by telling him that your parents abandoned at an orphanage at 2 years old where you stayed until you were 4. Your granny had taken you in and raised you. You never actually met your parents but vividly remember an incident that happened when you turned 6...”

     ‘An elderly woman smiled as she watched her grandchild run around in the backyard. The poor thing had been abandoned five years ago by their own flesh and blood. The woman was still in disbelief by what her son and daughter-in-law had done, almost not wanting to believe it. But the orphanage had called her since she was the next and last line of relatives. The woman took over responsibility for them. There was nothing wrong with the six year old as far as the woman could tell. Sure their appearance was a bit strange, with white hair and crimson eyes, and they didn’t talk much either. They were a smart child though and very energetic too. The grandma let out a small chuckle as she watched the child try to pet the ducks in her small pond. Hearing a car coming up, the elderly woman turned and saw the familiar-looking car in the driveway. Her motherly instinct kicked in and she called her grandchild into the house, the child obeyed and rushed over to her. The woman had them go to their room just as there was a knock at her door.

     The child doodled in their room when they heard yelling coming from the living room. Even though their granny told them to stay in their room, the child couldn’t help but try to peek out. Opening the door and walking down the hall, the small child could hear the yelling becoming louder and louder. They entered the room to see two unknown people arguing with Grandma. The large male suddenly grabbed a nearby vase and flung it at her. Luckily, the elderly woman was able to dodge it. The child however, wasn’t so lucky.’

     Gaster nearly dropped his coffee cup in shock as the Human finished speaking. He honestly didn’t expect to hear that. He had a lot of questions to ask them because of it.

    “How badly did you get hurt, Human? I’d imagine that you didn’t just walk away without injury...”

     The Human then uncovered their left eye revealing a large, faint scar close to it. Gaster unconsciously ran his finger across the scar, not really wanting to know how big of an injury this actually was. The Human gave a slight smile at his reaction before fluffing their hair back over their eye. Meanwhile, Gaster was asking one more question.

    “What sort of education did you have, Human.”

    “*You tell him you were mostly home schooled for the majority of your childhood.”

     With no more question to ask, Gaster let them continue on to their teenage years:

    “*You tell Gaster that you were still home schooled as a teen but you instead did it online. You also started identifying as non-binary as a teen as well. Your Grandma’s health started deteriorating so you had to keep the house clean and stocked with food while also juggling school work. You did find time to indulge in your hobbies however...”

     ‘The teen let out a sigh as they typed away at their computer. Online school was hard for them but it beat interacting with other people. They could feel everyone judging them as they walked through the store to buy groceries. Granny couldn’t out much these day due to her health. She was mostly bedridden, only getting up if she needed to use the bathroom or go to the kitchen to eat. The teen was also pretty sure Grandma didn’t fully understand them when they came out her as non-binary. They had gotten rid of their pesky long hair and cut it short, only leaving a long piece to cover their left eye. Sighing a breath of relief at finally finishing their work, they switched tabs to their coding lessons. The teen had been teaching themselves programming and code for a while now and they thought they had been getting the hang of it. Not only did they want to become a programmer when they got older, their new hobby also linked in with their other hobby. Switching tabs once more, the teen scrolled through their research about monsters until they found the info they needed. The teen had been studying monster history for a while and had actually been trying to contact one. Going to the base of Mt. Ebott didn’t work so they did a little digging around and found that the monsters had their own form of internet called ‘the Undernet’. The teen didn’t care how long it took, they WILL find their way onto the Undernet.’

    “You seemed quite persistent and passionate as a teenager, Human.”

     Gaster found great interest in what the Human had just told him. He never knew that they were so interested in coding or even monster history. It also surprised him that the Human apparently didn’t live too far from where every monster was trapped. That was the part that interested him the most.

    “Did you ever considered trying to get into the Underground?”

     He noticed the Human’s expression turned somber at his question.

    “*You tell him that a teen, no, but after the incident one year ago, you did consider jumping down...”

     A cold chill ran down Gaster’s spine. Were they being serious? Was the Human really suicidal at one point? That was honestly hard to believe given their demeanor. Was it connected to the ‘incident’ they just mentioned?

    “...Would you mind telling about the incident, Human?”

     The Human gave a sad sigh and nodded:

    “*You reveal to Gaster you had a little brother named David. You gained custody over him when your parents were caught abusing him. He was your pride and joy. You just wish you could’ve prevented what happened to him...”

     ‘The young adult typed away at their computer. They had a paper to get done for their online collage class. They were just about to finish when there was a knock at the door. Confused, they went to door and opened it. There a strictly-dressed but kind-looking woman with a young boy with pitch black hair and emerald green eyes beside her. After confirming who the guests were and who they were, they allowed the two to enter. The woman explained she was from CPS and the child with her was apparently their little brother, David. The young boy refused to make eye contact and only made small glances at them. The young adult listened as the social worker told of what had happened to David. After that, she asked if they wanted to take David in. For the first time since he got there, the boy looked up with pleading eyes at them. They smiled at him and took the pen from the woman’s outstretched hand to sign the papers. That was the day David came into their life.’

     The Human smiled fondly as they told how they spent their days off of work hanging out with David. Gaster actually found it cute how the Human seemed to almost brag about their younger brother and even showed him a picture of the two of them together. That even though the two of them would fight, they still loved each other. But what had happened to the child?

    “Did the incident have anything to do with David, Human?”

     Gaster saw the Human’s smile quickly fade. Their eyes seemed to water at the question as well. They nodded and through a choked voice, told him what tragedy befell David:

    “*You struggle as you tell Gaster how you had left David at a neighbor’s house while you went to work. What happened while you were gone was forever burned into your memory...”

     ‘The young adult hugged David as they both tearfully said goodbye to one another. They promised him to be back later tonight at 10 and to be good for their nice elderly neighbor. They waved to the woman and David and began walking to work. What happened next was a complete blur for them. They remembered working on some tough coding bug when their boss walked up to them. He didn’t look like he had good news to share. He nervously told them that he’s letting them go home early and to take a few days off. The young adult was a bit confused at this but who were they to complain about getting more time to spend with David? They told their co-workers and boss goodbye and happily walked home to their little brother. As they got closer and closer to the house, they began smelling the strong scent of smoke. The young adult just assumed that someone was burning leaves and ignored it. They got to their block and realized there was police and a firetruck with firefighters near their house. Neighbors were surrounding it and none of them looked happy. Feeling panic fill their SOUL, they ran down the sidewalk towards home, which they figured out was the one that had caught on fire. Where were they and David going to live now? They were stopped by a police officer who asked them who they were. After confirming their identity, the officer’s expression turned somber and he directed them to their neighbor who was sobbing. When they questioned her, their heart shattered upon hearing that David had snuck back over to the house. He had wanted to surprise them by making them their favorite meal. The firemen and police confirmed it was an oil fire that got out of control quickly. David couldn’t make it out in time. The young adult had to escorted away by their neighbor as they fell into hysterical crying. Their baby brother was dead. He was dead and it was all their fault. What was the point of going on with life?

     The next few days were a blur to them. They felt empty and completely unmotivated. Their neighbor had to help them plan David’s funeral. It was too painful to listen in on the phone conversations so they would slink away to their room to cry. Sometimes, the pain became too much for them to bare. They would hide the razor blade and patch themselves up after they were done...’

     Gaster couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was at a loss for words. He would have never suspected the Human used to intentionally harm themselves. He wanted to scold them for being so reckless with their life like that. But instead, he just wrapped his arms around the Human who had started to sob uncontrollably. Gaster ran his fingers through their hair in an attempt to comfort them. The Human just buried their face into his chest and cried however. He needed another way to calm them down or at least distract them.

    “Human, do you remember when we first met.”

     That got their attention. The Human looked up and nodded, smiling a little. They had finally been to access the Undernet after years of research and trial and error. Gaster had been the first and only monster they contacted. They also found him pretty cute as well. At first, he wanted nothing to do with them but the Human had been able to gain his trust by sending down gifts and chatting with him often. He still wasn’t sure how but the Human also found a way to pet him, too.

    “*You tell him you also remember how he had threatened to take your SOUL.”

    “Those were merely empty threats to try and scare you off...”

     The Human then retorted back that they didn’t take him seriously to begin with. Gaster just rolled his eye sockets at this causing the Human to start laughing. They were starting to feel better now. David may have been gone but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t go on with life. Especially now that the Human has a new skeleton family to love and take care of. Gaster pressed a kiss against their forehead.

    “I honestly am sorry for the loss of your younger sibling. But what happened to him was nothing more than an accident. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. You made a lot of happy memories with him so he didn’t die unhappy...”

     The Human smiled at this and wrapped their arms tightly around him. They almost wanted to start crying again but they were too exhausted now. The Human asked Gaster if he wanted to sleep in his office together again tonight. He agreed and they both laid down to rest with Gaster laying on his back while the Human snuggled against him. However, something was still bothering Gaster so before the Human fell asleep, he asked them a question.

    “Human, we’ve known each other for a long time now, but you haven’t exactly told me your real name and I don’t think your name is actually Human...”

     They giggled and looked up at him, eyes twinkling.

    “*...You tell him your name is Sam.”

Note: The Human’s, or should I say, Sam’s name has finally been revealed! Told you this story was going to be sad. But people like angst so win-win for them. Thank you everyone so much for reading! I love all of you! Stay tuned for more.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Safe Harbor (3/?)

A/N: Thor really has no chill, guys. Sorry Not sorry.

You weave through traffic on your motorcycle fearlessly headed towards your parent’s brownstone. You’d call it home but it wasn’t. Not really. It was a mausoleum for living creatures. A place where your parents hid from the modern world in a bubble filled with things and customs they understood. 

They hadn’t left it but for brief trips to the Country since long before you were born. Possibly since after they arrived there after the Civil War shortly before Warren’s birth. You’d been born and raised in that house but it wasn’t home. Your boat was home. 

You let yourself in, ignoring the staleness of the air. The smell of dust and rust and wood varnish. You nod to Warren who’s sitting at a pianoforte playing for your mother and head upstairs. Father has your “Allowance” in his study and Mother does not like her concerts to be disturbed. You’re already (not regrettably) late and Father will have been vaguely concerned. He’s not really been concerned about anyone in decades, his mind is too full of the past to worry about the present or the future. 

You knock on the door quietly and are rewarded with a rough “Enter.” So you do. Your tread soft on the old wood, “Papa,” you say softly, “How are you? Did you get my letters?” He looks up half in dreams, “Yes, yes, Very good daughter. I did get them. Though I don’t understand how you’re going to find a mate to protect you in the middle of the ocean.” You smile a little. You’d had this talk many times, “Papa, I don’t need a mate to protect me. It’s a new time. I can go anywhere I want. I could be a doctor now. Or a soldier. Or even a politician.” Your father shakes his head and hands you an envelope with a little extra money in it. You don’t need it, really. But it’s nice to have something for a rainy day. “My darling girl, it may be a new time but some things don’t change. You have teeth and claws. You are a wolf, fierce and cunning. But everything about you invites challenge. Stupid men, mortal or otherwise will want to possess you. And what will become of you when you’re tired of fighting them? What will become of you when you cannot fight them?” You bend down to kiss his cheek. You know that you still smell like Thor. The scent of pine and Ozone clings to you after your night together, reminding you that he’s going to call. But your father doesn’t comment. There is nothing for him to say. You’ve already lost his attention as he drifts in his mind. Back to his boyhood. Back to the court of Isabella and Ferdinand. Back when he was once considered for Cathrine of Aragon. 

Warren is finishing his concert as you go back downstairs. Mother is clapping and Warren is bowing. You wait patiently at the door as Mother fusses over your brother. Warren is her firstborn. Her favorite. You idly wonder if Mother knows that Warren is gay as she pesters him to find a mate and get a wife because at 200 years old she wants to be a grandma already. You cough quietly and your mother turns,  “Oh, Y/N, you’re finally here I didn’t notice,” she said, taking in your appearance. True born female werewolves are plump as a rule. It makes it so they can endure the amount of energy it takes to hold off the change at the full moon until the birth of the child. Mother is not true born and it was only sheer dumb luck that you managed to be born at all. Neither is Warren. Mother was changed after Warren’s birth and Warren was changed at 22 in 1890. Your mother’s eye zeroes in on the mark Thor had left on your neck that’s fading to a lighter, duskier purple. She takes in your size, mentally deciding that you’d gained weight (you hadn’t. You never do. Your weight is the exact same it had been when you stopped aging at 16). She tuts and pats the seat next to her reluctantly, “You could be so pretty, Y/N. Why don’t you at least try and lose weight?” You sigh, “Because Mama, I live to serve as your biggest disappointment in life. It’s my only real talent.”

Warren turns a snort into a cough masterfully and hands you a cup of tea, “Well, Mama,” he said, “I’m glad she’s plump or I might have to spend all my time fending off her suitors with a stick and then I wouldn’t be able to play you concerts every morning.” You catch Warren’s eye and he winks. It’s a redirection. She’s now so busy gushing about Warren’s playing she’s half-forgotten you were even there. He keeps her off your back until Mother decides it is time to change from her Morning clothes into her Afternoon clothes, bemoaning that all the people she could possibly want to go visiting are dead. In her own day, mother was a debutante, beautiful and sparkling as she whirled around a dancefloor on the arm of her escort. She was everything a woman was supposed to be then and she hated that you weren’t. She hated that you passionately rejected doing needlepoint and that the only instrument you played was the guitar. She hated that you didn’t speak French and only spoke “unfashionable” languages (not that she knew which ones you actually could speak). Warren walks you to the door and hugs you, kissing your head, “So, little sister,” he says grinning, “When do I get to meet your new toy?” You shrug, “I dunno how long I’ll be in town. We only met last night and I’m not sure he’ll want to make our arrangement long term.” Warren pulls your shirt collar away from your neck and inspects the bite, “One night and he already found your spot,” he whistles softly, “You little tart. What would mother say?”

“I dunno, let's go ask her while I ask her if she’s been introduced to the Vampire boy you keep over in the Village,” you shoot back with a cheeky smile. You would never do that. Warren and Roderick were a cute couple. They worked. And Roderick made Warren happy. That was all you really cared about. Warren Shushes you and playfully pinches your cheek, “You’re just trying to take my spot as the favorite,” he scolds. You shake your head, “I could never do that, Warren. You understand either of them better than I ever could.” He kisses your forehead, “Give it a few centuries, pet. You’ve not even lived through one lifetime yet. Someday you’ll be old and doddering on your ship and your kids will have to hear you nattering on about the good old days as if they really were that good.”

He shoves you gently out the door and shuts it behind you as Mother calls out from the top of the stairs that she believes it is time for lunch. He can handle mother but today, she’s in a mood and she’s looking for a fight. He’d prefer not to have to listen to her snipe at you all afternoon and watch you have to play the dutiful daughter. 

Out on the Street, he watches for a moment as you answer your phone, smiling. The words are garbled between Mother’s tone-deaf singing, the door, and the street noise, but the tone is clear. Your new boy called you and he would very much like to see you this evening.

...”I was thinking we could have dinner,” Thor says, smiling as he listens to you shout at some kids who are edging too close to your motorcycle. “Is that so?” you say teasing. “Well, what if I had a better idea?” Thor loves the teasing tone in your voice. It makes him think of the kiss he gave you before he left you. 

“And what would that be, my lady?” he says seriously. “What if you meet me at a Diner not too far from the Dock. They serve breakfast all day. We’ll eat and then I’ll take you out sailing,” you say. You’d love to get him out on the open water where he wouldn’t have to be so shy of his body. If you went out far enough there could even be a romantic dinner in it. And a nice slow fuck under the stars. You hadn’t been romanced in a while and Thor, with his shy smile and soft eyes was the perfect candidate for the job. If last night was any indication, it had been a while for him too. Thor smiles, “Shall I pack an overnight bag?” he asks. You grin, “I would,” you say, “Meet in 30 minutes?” Thor makes a sound of agreement and you hang up, putting your phone in your pocket and starting your bike. 

“Honestly, Warren,” your mother says as you rev the engine and shoot down the street, “What sort of man is very going to want her?”  Warren heaves a sigh, “I’m sure I don’t know,” he says for her benefit. It broke his heart. From across the street, mother could see the dirt under your fingernails but she couldn’t see your smile. That wasn’t the smile you gave a fling. That was the smile you gave a lover you didn’t know you were in love with yet. He’d never seen it on your face before but he hoped this man, whoever he was, took care of your heart as well as he took care of your desires. 

When you arrive back at the dock, you change clothes. A bikini top and a pair of cut offs. Short cutoffs. The kind that were barely decent to go to the bodega for alcohol and fixings for a nice dinner. Over that, you throw a huge t shirt that covers all the skin that needs to be covered and text thor to just dress for the beach. When he arrives as you’re pulling the shirt over your head, he stops and admires the bikini top and shorts. He loves your softness and he loves that you’re comfortable with it. He feels uncomfortable in his clothing and he hates the way his belly pokes out. Until you wrap your arms around him and kiss him. It’s only been a few hours but it feels longer. Thor’s hands find your ass and hips, kneading them softly as he presses into your hungry kiss, “Hello,” he says, a little breathless when you pull away. “Hey,” you say smiling, “hungry?” He nods, “I still haven’t eaten anything.” You frown, “Why?” He blushes, “I was too busy wondering if it was too soon to call you.” You laugh and pat his belly affectionately, “Well, then let's feed you, hm? Sailing is hungry work.”

He nods and follows you down the dock to the diner. It’s open 24 hours a day and serves breakfast all 24 hours. You eat and talk, he tells you about the Avengers. About the Guardians of the Galaxy. You mostly talk about your brother. About your business. Talking about your parents just makes you sad. Thor doesn’t miss that. That you gently deflect questions about your parents but he doesn’t press. He’s too happy to be eating breakfast with you. Holding your hand and being “that couple,” even if it is noon and even if your smiles aren’t sleepy. You pay for the meal over his protests and simply tell him he can make it up to you by not tapping out early this time. You laugh and he chuckles, stopping on the street to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, carrying you giggling and protesting all the way back to your boat. 

You start the engine and navigate the boat out of the harbor and into deeper water, out towards the open sea.  Once you’re out there, you cut the engine and unfurl the sails. and strip off your t-shirt. There are some people out. Yachts and such but as you go, things thin out.  Thor watches appreciatively. He would happily lay you down on a towel and part your thighs right there. The haze of heat and alcohol. The smell of coconut sun tan oil. Your laugh. The sound of the water. It feels like a dream and he doesn’t want to wake up. You coax him into taking his shirt off mostly by distracting him with kisses and easing his shirt up and off as you lavish attention on his belly and chest. Your ardor makes him forget to be embarrassed. Like the night before, you make him feel attractive. You pet and caress until he’s delirious with want. But you won’t let him touch you, dancing out of his reach. He drinks and watches you dance to the radio. You roll your hips and your breasts jiggle invitingly. He hardly knows what music is playing and he doesn’t care. 

When the sun starts to set and the air gets cool, you disappear below decks for a little while, cooking he guesses by the smells. Nice smells. Meat and maybe pasta. The meat doesn’t surprise him. Werewolves he’d know before had eaten a lot of it. Mostly raw, though he would be surprised if you would eat it that way in front of anyone. It was a different time now and the couple he had met since his return to Midgard had been cautious not to eat raw meat in front of non-wolves. 

You carry plates and two wine glasses up the steps, “Thor can you get the wine open?” you ask, setting the table. Thor nods and opens the bottle, bringing it to you and pouring glasses. “It looks lovely,” he says, kissing you. He pulls out your chair and helps you get settled at the table before taking his own seat. Dinner is quiet. Your skin is warm from the sun and in the evening light, you look content. Tipsy and flushed. Like you’ve had a nice day. Thor watches you as he eats, enjoying the meal after a day in the sun and salt air. His loins ache and he wants to take you below decks, back to your narrow but serviceable bed. 

But when he realizes you have other plans, as you pull him to a pallet on the deck, he doesn’t mind. Hands roam and sighs quickly turn to moans and growls as he touches you all the ways he craved touching you. It’s mindless animal fucking. Sweat and salt air coat your skin as he drives you to bliss again and again. The stars are the only witness to the passion on the deck. Your growls and cries lost to the sound of the sea. The only break in the tranquility. At one point you go below decks but that doesn’t cool the fire. Thor fucks like a man possessed, determined for his stamina to outlast you this time. He needs to be inside you. He needs to feel what he feels when he’s in the dark with you. 

Alive. Exhilarated. Sexy. You feed each other chocolate covered strawberries as you straddle his lap below decks. You’re both hungry but neither one of you is ready to stop. So he’s hard inside you as you feed him and he feeds you, both of you wine drunk and giggling. Neither of you has a care in the world. All there is is this. And the need to go “just once more, please?” When neither of you can be distracted by treats anymore, you do go again. You ride him and he bites your neck leaving you streaming his name. And when he brings you down gently, he tastes of chocolate and strawberries when he kisses you. Things gentle after that. He slows down, more intent on appreciating your body the way you had done his. He loves curves. He’s always adored curves on a woman. Softness he could lose himself in for hours as he admired the way the flesh felt under his hands and the way passion made your skin heat under his touch. You were perfection. All the things he adored. Humor and warmth. Beauty. Grace. A healthy appetite for pleasures that matched his own. 

Shy women were fine. Thin women were fine. All women really were beautiful and wonderful in their own way. But you? You were what he loved best. In the dark when he could finally feel that you were boneless with exhaustion and truly could not go again, he pulled you close, cuddling you tenderly. He loved this. He’d missed this. Mindless animal sex was awesome. But this was intimacy. Aching to be with someone when they were right there in your arms asleep. Fighting sleep because you just need to be looking at them. He knows his brain is flooded with bonding chemicals but gods, he thinks. He really doesn’t want the night to end. 

After you rest for an hour or so, you pull on some clothes and navigate them back to the dock. You’re covered in bites and so is he. You both ache, but neither one of you wants to be apart, still high on each other, “Breakfast?” you ask. Thor laughs and holds out a hand after he pulls on his shirt, “I’d be delighted.” 

In the diner, holding your hands and playing with your fingers, he gives you a shy smile. He doesn’t want to think about you leaving. “Y/N,” he says blushing a little bit, “I think we need to talk.” You sip your coffee and smile wryly, “Is this where you tell me you have a wife?” Thor choked, “No, god no. I... I just. I think I love you,” he blurts out. 

His face heats and you smile, kissing his hand, “You just now figured that out?” you tease. “It’s been two days Thor. Gosh.” He relaxes and laughs, “I just... I wanted you to know.” You smile, “I love you, too Handsome.”

Tags: @lancsnerd @innerpaperexpertcloud @stevieang

[sleepyfan-blog]

asdfg fan your writing is so good tho,,, may i request a ibvs chrevinstoph- "Any shorter and you'd probably fade out of existence." ? you don't have to follow the prompt if you don't wanna tho!! ^^"

Fandom: IBVS by @onebizarrekai

Characters and pairing: Nevin Jovel, Christoph Jackson, Isaac Beamer, Barry Price, Edward Quinton, Various Parents, chrevinstoph

Warnings: none

Word count: 2,103

Summary: Chris got cursed. He’s not the only one.

“… When you texted me to come over because you were having a problem, I wasn’t expecting this to be it, Chris.” Nevin remarked as he grinned at his boyfriend, wandering over to where the other was sitting, gently poking the heterochromatic teen. He sobered up after a moment, as this could be really bad.

“Oh, ha-ha Nevin! I texted you for help first because I thought that you’d be the one least likely to laugh at me.” Cross sulked, folding his arms over his chest and sulking, prodding his phone and sighing a little as it slid towards him a little more.

“So… Do you have any idea how this happened? Or did you wake up like this, this morning? I was wondering why you weren’t in class today.” Nevin responded, tempted to take at least a couple of pictures of the other. He looked ridiculously adorable.

“No, I woke up normally… But as soon as I came downstairs for breakfast, I started losing height. Thank fucking god that I was still able to grab poptarts for breakfast and bring them to my room. It’s all I’ve been eating all day.” Cross huffed, kicking his tiny feet “For some reason, my clothes shrank down along with the rest of me, so at least I’m not naked. Father took one look at me this morning and said that he’d call the school saying I was sick. Then he went to work.”

“Have you kept shrinking all day? I really hope that you’ve stopped as if not… Any shorter and you’d probably fade out of existence.” Nevin murmured, kneeling down and unable to stop himself from reaching out to his currently six-inch tall boyfriend. He just… He looked so adorable. “And… Your… Dad just reacted like that? That’s… Really weird.”

“Yeah… I thought that he might freak out a little, express concern that I’m shrinking. But apparently I’m not even worth that.” Chris responded bitterly, scooting a little bit closer to his boyfriend. He’d made a nest out of socks because he got cold really easy the smaller that he got. “And as far as I can tell I’ve stopped shrinking. I hit this size about two hours ago and I don’t think I’ve gotten smaller since then… But like, the longer in the day it’s been, the slower I started shrinking? So I could still be getting smaller, just… Really slowly.”

“Huh… Do you know why you suddenly started shrinking?” Nevin prompted as he gently scooped up his boyfriend, bringing the other in close and pressing a kiss to the top of the other’s head.

“N… Hmm… Well, Isaac and me were hanging out together when Error showed up. He dragged us with him to deal with some sort of cursed doll. We managed to break the curse… At least I think we did? But the demonic spirit or whatever was that made it alive or whatever said that we’d regret doing it, and that we’d learn what it was like to suffer as it had done.” Chris answered honestly “I would have texted you for help in dealing with it, but Error said that the creature gained power with the use of electronics, so he made us ditch our phones.”

“… You got cursed by a possessed doll? … Wait does that mean that Isaac and Error are also Tiny?” Nevin’s eyes widened a little and he nearly doubled over with laughter, not wanting to accidentally hurt the other, though the mental image of the self-proclaimed school king being so tiny was the funniest thing he’d heard of all week. “I’m going to borrow your computer - see if there’s anything on the web about a cures like this.”

“I’ve been trying to look it up on my phone, and there’s apparently something called a ‘bittybones curse’ but the websites won’t load correctly on my phone.” Cross grumbled, looking incredibly adorable in his thin grey t-shirt and black sweatpants. He shivered a little and asked “… I need to stay warm, so either hold me closer or put me in my sock-nest please.”

“… I have a couple of granola bars in my backpack, if you want to eat that, also a short water bottle I won in PE. Drew and I were the only survivors in a brutal dodgeball war today. It was a lot of fun.” Nevin offered, a worried frown appearing on his face as he looked his boyfriend over.

“I… Please. My poptart supply is dangerous low, and I’ve been dreading trying to get more water to drink at this size.” Cross answered after a moment, his eyes wide and pleading.

Nevin nodded and got the necessary items - unable to help but open the water bottle for the other - unsure as to whether or not he could manage to do so himself, but also not wanting to make the other mad for babying him. He walked over to the computer and - after Cross gave him the password - started to look up this bitty bones curse.

~

Two hours of frantic research later, and Nevin sighed “So, from every resource that seems the least bit credible, you’re probably not going to get any shorter. That’s the good news.”

Chris squinted at him “What, I don’t get to choose between good and bad news?” From the look on his boyfriend’s face… Oh fuck what had Error gotten him into this time? “… Alright… What stupid shit do we have to do in order to undo the curse now?”

“For one thing, I have to know for sure if it was just you who was cursed, or Isaac and Edward too. Because the curse has to be broken on the three of you simultaneously, or it won’t work. the second thing is, you’re going to be stuck like this for a week, minimum.” Nevin began, sighing a little and shaking his head. “… Also you and anyone else who has definitely been cursed at the same time has to live together, while being cared for by someone who genuinely cares for you and those who were also cursed… Shit. It seems as if I have to get Drew involved in this if Error’s been cursed too. They are dating after all.” This was not the way he would want their activities to be revealed to his twin brother.

“I’ll text them and ask if they’ve been cursed too.” Cross responded, his voice adorably squeaky. “I really don’t want to live with Error for a week. That would suck… Also how are we going to explain this to our parents? And your grandma… And Drew?”

“I… I don’t know! One step at a time, Cross. We need to figure out if it’s just you, or if more people have been cursed.” Nightmare responded, restless and unsure. There were also a couple of other ways to break the curse - but there was no way that he could afford any of those cures. Also it could put Chris in a lot of pain, so he’d rather not risk it.

“… Isaac and Error have both been cursed. They’re at Barry’s place right now, and apparently their parents are all freaking out super bad… And Isaac just sent me his address - so we should probably go.” Chris responded uncomfortably, shivering a little bit more.

“Okay - we should probably leave a not for your dad - in case he wonders where you’ve wandered off to. I’ll be sure to grab your phone and charger too.” Nevin offered, turning off the other’s computer, walking over to the other’s bed and carefully stuffing a bunch of Chris’s socks together so that it formed a sort of thick, tiny sleeping bag “Okay, hop in. This should help you stay warm.”

“Okay… I’ve almost finished texting Isaac, telling him that we’re headed over.” Chris responded, tapping out the message with his hands, grateful for auto-fill to reduce how much time it was taking.

~

To both of theirs mild surprise, Isaac’s mom insisted on coming to pick them up - despite the fact that it was less than a ten minute walk to Barry’s house - but neither one of them was going to question it. Nevin was a little unsure as to how to react as he’d never met Isaac’s mother before - knowing that she was very busy as a… Therapist? Psychologist? Something like that. He was busy trying to hold onto his boyfriend’s sock-sleeping bag carefully, holding the other close to his chest.

She tried to start a conversation with him a couple of different times on the very brief drive over, but all Nightmare could do was stare at Cross and try not to panic. He looked so tiny and vulnerable and… There was something strangely familiar about this situation, although why, he couldn’t tell. He could also sense both of the others’ concern as well.

One of Barry’s parents answered the door and gestured for him to come in, which Nightmare did as he rushed straight for the lorekeeper of the school, his other best friend, and Error. The latter was wrapped up in several long scarves and looked half-asleep. Ink was snuggled up in a mitten, drawing furiously with the end of a crayon nub, looking up as he came over “Oh, hey Nevin!”

“Heya Isaac.” Nightmare responded with a small smile as he set a tired Cross down… Only to pick him back up again as the other fussed a little. “Hey… Shh… It’s okay Chris, I’ve got you.”

“Thanks, Nev’… Just wanna be close…” Cross mumbled, exhausted and unhappy. He nibbled on a bit of granola bar, mostly just wanting to sleep.

“That’s okay, I’ve got you.” Nightmare answered back, voice warm and gentle. Chris relaxed a little and beamed up at him happily, snuggling a little closer to him.

Barry was sitting near him, hovering closer to Isaac and Error, worried and unsure as to what to do.

“Nevin, would you please put Christopher down for a moment?” Isaac’s mom asked, her expression neutral, but her emotions chaotic.

Crap. He suspected that he was about to get interrogated. But Nevin wondered if they would believe him if he told them the truth “I… Okay.” He put down the fussy Cross, setting him close to Isaac and made his way over to her. “Yes, ma'am?” He wasn’t normally this polite, but he figured that it wouldn’t hurt anything.

“… Do you know how they might have ended up this way? I know that you and Chris have become good friends with Isaac…” She asked, her voice kind but firm.

“I… Uh…” He glanced at her for a moment, fidgeting “… Chris told me that he, Isaac and Edward dealt with some sort of cursed doll yesterday, and that the spirit that possessed them cursed them to understand how it felt.”

“At least you’re actually talking - neither Edward nor Isaac would say a thing. They just said that they woke up and realized that they were shrinking. Didn’t know how it was happening or why it was possible. Honestly, it’s as if they don’t know that we’re aware that they have… Unusual abilities.” One of Error’s parents grumbled, rubbing their face with a hand and sighing “Thank you for telling the truth… Nevin, I believe? Even if it does sound a little out there.”

“I… Y-You… E-Edward what?” Nevin stuttered, trying to hide the fact that he was unsurprised by the fact that Error had powers… He was surprised that his parents were aware of this.

“Honestly, do you all think that we’re blind? I’ve never seen Isaac take to others so quickly - apart from Barry, who has powers of his own. I figured that you, Cross and Edward had to have powers, from the way he lights up about each of you. He has other friends, yes… But he hasn’t connected as much to them as he has to you three.” Ink’s mother responded with an amused smile. 

“Oh… Uh… I’ll.. Uhm, unless there’s anything else that you want I should… Probably head home, actually… My grandma and brother are probably going to be worried. Should’ve been home a while ago… Haha…” Nevin responded, edging slowly towards the door before running. It was cowardly, but he had no idea how to react. Experience had taught him not to trust most adults. He paused at the door, his gaze flickering between the group of genuinely concerned parents (which was so strange to sense) and his friends… And Error, tempted to snatch them up. But then one of Barry’s parents tried to grab him and Nevin ducked, throwing the other over his shoulder and running out the door, headed straight home.

[yanderexdoki]

My Yandere story

Okay, let's start at the very beginning. Your gonna have to go ahead and forgive me now, I tend to go on tangents due to my brain jumping all over the place all the time but I will try and keep this as tight knit as I can. I was in middle school, probably seventh grade,hanging with my Aunt when she had the idea to go to this local clothing store. We went in and that's when I first met him. Tall, Skinny, Redhead. Him and my Aunt were having conversation while I just looked around, not really caring what was going on. 

We were probably there like 20 min and we left. I learned over time this man had a wife and a kid and that whole family became friends with my aunt. My aunt was great at making conversation and was an extrovert so it wasn't really surprising news.She would go over there to visit. I went a few more times with her but she mostly went  by herself. About a year later my Aunt tragically passed away in her sleep. It was a pretty hard time for the whole family. We did the whole bit, the funeral, burying her all that yada yada. Not playing off her death, she was like a second and cooler mom. I cared about her so much and she was the first big family passing I had to endure. We all continued with our lives as everyone does after a tragedy as best they can until the summer before my senior year of high school. My mother told me it was about time my brother and I got our first jobs so we could help with taking care of the house bills. Off we went driving about town grabbing applications. This was the summer of ‘08 so there weren’t too many online applications as there are nowadays. Anyway, the one place I got an application from was the local mall where "local clothing store" happened to have been moved to since their previous location. There was a Blonde Woman standing there so I thought I should apply cause I remember the one guy and I remember him being friends with my aunt but him not being at my aunt's funeral. Maybe I can ask him about it if he still works here? I know right? My thought logic is real, legit teenager stuff. Anyway, after I fill out my application and take it back to who will now call BW, she had me do like a little mini interview. I somehow impressed her with my fake perfume sale cause she decided to hire me. Looking back on it, I personally believe she hired me because she remembered me being my Aunts niece. So I started the job pretty soon after. 

It was my first job and I was never very good at talking with strangers. It was actually one of the first conversations I had with who we will call TSR from now on. He introduced himself and asked me about myself. He noticed I was pretty shy and he gave me an analogy about an invisible line that I see that I need to cross. It was really the first in many many ways this guy boosted my confidence and self esteem. The tasks of the job where pretty standard retail business. Keep it clean, sell stuff, be nice. Our store never had to much for foot traffic a lot of the time so for the most part we did a lot of BSing. Most of the days that went by where TSR and I talking for hours cause BW had a day job and usually came in later in the day. A few months in he actually told me he didn’t go to my aunts funeral because they make him really uncomfortable and he didn’t even go to one of his close friends. An acceptable answer for me. When your around someone you kind of learn there mannerisms, the way they say certain words, how his light blue eyes light up when he’s talking about something he thought was cool. The best way I could describe his personality is Chip Gaines from the show Fixer Upper. Oh no. Oh definitely no. I am not getting a crush on my married boss, a man in his 30s. Yes....yes I am, yes I did. My senior year of high school started up fast. I still got to work there but it had to be just a few hours after school. Which was fine with me as long as I got to keep working there. As long as I got to keep talking with TSR. As long as I got to hear his laughter everyday. I knew these weren't good thoughts about someone's husband and I really shouldn't be thinking this but I didn't want to stop being around him. As the school year went by the first semester ended and we got our grades. Most of them were pretty up to par for what my parents expected out of me at the time. Except for the D in math class.That one I was pretty disappointed in myself as well. So my parents told me to talk about my grades with my bosses. BW and TSR said if I couldn't bring that up I couldn't work anymore. It definitely got my butt in gear mentally and somehow pulled me out of it all the second semester with straight B's.They let me work on my homework when the store didn’t have anyone in it and I got to keep my job. I got to keep making my own money that I spent on the clothes in the store for me to wear and other dumb crap I didn't need. TSR and I talked about anything and everything. He talked to me about things my parents didn't talk to me about. He made jokes all the time and always had me laughing.He talked to me like I was at his level. I gladly listened as he talked about whatever would pop into his head at the time. I would hear the height in his voice and the deep gruff lows when he was getting into the nitty gritty of his gem of a story he would be mining out. Honestly, this is probably the most one on one conversations I had with someone besides a blood relatives up to this point. I never had much for friends in my school years. It felt nice. Now of course it wasn't just him and I closed the store every night for an eternity. Sometimes I worked with BW and sometimes with TSR and sometimes with both of them and even with a little kick ass co-manager who we will call LCM. I probably won't talk about her too much though. 

I graduated in the summer of ‘09, got my drivers licence and got my first cheap ass car from the money I got from graduation. My parents or my grandma didn't have to drive me to work anymore. BW even picked me up from school once on halloween and took me to work cause my family couldn’t make it. She was always so nice to me. I wanted to be more connected with her too on evenings we worked together but she just didn’t seem as open with me. TSR started asking questions about the name on the car and I told him my dad because that's what my dad said I should do. It made sense to me and I have a good relationship with my father. TSR told me that wasn't the best idea and how my dad could use that against me and hold it over my head. Now my dad and I have had a fight or two but I would never have expected anything like that to happen. Well what do you know, I swear like a week later my father and I where bickering over something and he said “My name is on the car I can take it from you.” TSR was right. He was always right about life and the universe and people. We also seem to have similar things in common, like how we felt the least liked out of our siblings by our parents.I guess we both would be considered the black sheep in our family. It's not my fault I was raised christian and started liking Marilyn Manson and getting tattoos. I wasn’t trying to be rebellious on purpose. I just liked stuff my parents didn't. I worked for them for probably a year at this point and since it was the summer I  just contemplated if I was gonna do college or not. I just decided to keep working my job as full time to save money and to try and figure out where I was headed.TSR helped me as I have been on and off again with my first boyfriend. 

When I was going through a very deep stage of “woe is me, I’m never gonna love anyone again.” he left me alone at the store to pick up his kid. He came back pretty fast and like the first thing he yelled was "DANGIT DOKI”, you had me really worried there for you while I was gone." It made my heart skip. Kinda felt like one of those scenes where the anime girl is standing in an area full of sakura blossoms blowing in the wind as she looks longing at her senpai. Woah, he really must care about me as not just someone who works for him but as a person. 

My feelings for TSR have gone pretty deep at this point. I would have done anything he asked. Appropriate or not. One day I was hopping around the store from drinking an energy drink that day and I'm cleaning and dusting and moving clothes everywhere and I go up to TSR and ask him if he wanted me to suck his dick. This coming from a very shy hyper virgin 18 year old. I kind of looked around and just laughed. I kind of felt bad a little while after I said that but I didn't really think it was that much of a big deal. Months later he would tell me he contemplated saying yes. I lost some weight after being there for a bit due to some emotional things I was going through at the time and I was actually feeling good about my body and I learned BW and I fit the same size pants and decided to switch the ones we bought from the store. TSR told me I was still fat. It hurt coming from someone I was infatuated with. I was shorter than his wife and had a curvier shape.

  You may know how it is working with family. Working with the same 3 other adults for two years does start to feel like an actual family. Besides the misc like 3 other people who got hired while I was there but they all didn’t stay very long. At some point we got a security camera system and we could watch the 4 different cameras on one monitor. I eventually, out of boredom and fantasy, learned that we had one spot in the store on the cameras that couldn't be seen. The third dressing room. I thought all kinds of things about the room. Especially around closing time when we turned all the lights off. TSR made lots of sexual jokes, sure, but I knew he wasn't attracted to me based on my body type and maybe the fact that his mother and I share the same name. Of course the lawful good side of me was fighting myself knowing it's good he doesn't like me cause I shouldn't like him, he's a married man anyway. Never stopped me from thinking about it though. One day something happened. He brought up the subject about how he's gotten to feel real small tits and big “fake” tits but not real big “real” tits. How convenient enough I happen to be in that category. I don't remember if there was much instruction of him suggesting I should try on a big belt as a tube top and see what it looks like but I definitely feel like I was just mentally following along with everything he was saying like a puppy learning tricks for rewards. I was nervous. I tried on the belt in the 3rd dressing room. It looked stupid but I opened the door. TSR came up, looked at my stretch marks and veins with wide eyes. He asked me if he could touch them. I said he could. I let him do what he wanted but I was super embarrassed. I wanted this to happen but he was this person I built up so much hype being near me, just doing whatever he wanted. He grabbed handfuls, moved them around, squeezed. No nipple play though. He got done with what he thought was an adequate amount of playtime and let me get dressed. We never talked about it. I never wanted anyone to know. I wanted so much more.I wanted him to push me back into the dressing room. I wanted him to take my virginity. I wanted him to try all the rough things I was learning were my kinks. Nothing too much happened at the shop besides the two times I got drunk at work. There was one good time and one bad time. TSR, LCM, a dude who would come in the shop often, and I all drank and had a fun chill night just laughing. I remember two dudes who came into actually shop asked me if I was drunk and they thought it was hilarious and awesome, but nothing really juicy or life changing happened those times so they aren't really important. Eventually, 2010 showed up to kick everyone in the ass economically, and we had to close down shop. We put everything away and caused a little bit of mall anarchy by throwing shoes in the rafters. I felt bad because, 1. I was losing what I thought was like the coolest job ever, and 2. I didn't know if I would ever see them again. 

TSR was obviously drinking at the time he had his vodka right by him, like drinking it right out of the bottle. I was upset. I wanted to say more to him about it but I felt like I couldn't say anything. Like it wasn’t my place because I was just an employee. I wanted to be there for him. I wanted to be his comfort. Eventually his wife and kid packed up and moved to another state while TSR stayed behind to clean the house and get it on the market and close some loose ends. He asked me two separate times to hang out before he left. Once to go get some food together, he even made the comment on how I was beaming when we were eating together. He knew I liked him. I guess I was pretty bad at hiding it. The other time was to help with cleaning his house. I jumped at the opportunity to dust and scrub just to be near him. It was just the two of us for a few hours. All the stuff they had was already packed and all he had was an air mattress and a blanket. I still remember wanting to be under that blanket with him.  Besides the breast fondling nothing else physical happen between us. At some point I lost his number for about a year or two until I got to beg it off a guy I was dating. He was actually the dude who brought me the booze the first time I drank at work. .TSR seemed glad to be able to talk to me again. We kind of developed this rhythm where we talked on the phone every 3 to 6 months, sometimes even 9. He told me he didn't like texting and I wanted to respect his wishes cause I still had these feelings for him. Our conversations together were very much in the obsession and lust category for me. When we talked it was mostly just updates on life. Talking about our parents doing dumb stuff and what we are up to at the time. The same amount of laughs as before, and me listening gleefully as always. That joy overtime turned into a darkness after our calls would end. I would feel sunk in this place. I would feel trapped and conflicted. I wanted my love for this man to go away. To just be able to be like “nah dude, I don't need that complicating my life anymore.” For me to literally not drop everything I was doing when he would call me. Even when I was on a date or hanging with my family, I couldn't, I didn't. I kept falling deeper and deeper into the peat bog. Realizing my head was under way to late. This continued till I was about 25 and I got off the phone with him one night and just broke down into pieces. I couldn't take it anymore. I wrote a fake text that was implied to be for my best friend but I deliberately sent it to TSR., like I accidentally sent it to the wrong person. I explained my love for him and how I would do anything for him and how it hurts that I can't be with him. I expected his wife to call me. I expected for her to yell at me and tell me to never speak to them again. I wanted to cut it off so I set in motion something to do it cause I couldn't just do it myself because I was a coward. Like nothing ever happened TSR called me about a week later and asked me if I knew I sent him a text he probably shouldn’t have seen. I acted dumb on purpose and was like “ohh no! You saw that?” He just laughed and called me dumb. He even told me he has me saved in his phone with the word dumb in front of my name. It didn't work. He learned everything I was feeling at the time and, without the faintest acknowledgement about it, he didn’t care or tell me we shouldn’t talk anymore.He just told me his wife was originally mad about it when she read it but he calmed her down. We went back to our routine of talking on the phone every few months until this most recent July. I was visiting my family on vacation. One night I get back to the place I was staying after not feeling to great after dinner. It's 1am and as I'm trying to go to sleep TSR calls me up. Without hesitation I answer and we chat. He told me of this weed he liked a lot and how his day went. Then, in weird moment I will remember forever, he said "I love you man, not like a dick in vagina love but, ya know." It just reaffirmed what I've known for awhile now. I will never be anything more to him. I could at least take comfort in what he said to me that he saw me as a close friend. I let him know I have to let him go because of some chest pains I was having from anxiety. I told him I would love to talk more but just can't. We hung up and like .5 milliseconds later he calls me back I'm like dude what do you want and he says, "So when are we gonna start having secret conversations?" My head was already whirling from the feelings of what he just said coming up but now he springs this on me? What does he mean by this? He just said he doesn't love me that way what is going on? I said what are you talking about and he said "We gotta have a place we can talk where my wife won't find it and she won't get mad at me.”

 I was like “Dude lets just talk later” and I told him bye and hung up. I didn't wanna deal with that right now. A day went by and I smoked a little weed and called and left him voicemail for if he really wanted to talk about this and I wanted to figure out what his angle was with this whole situation that had me pretty panicky for the most part.

 The next day he sends me a pic of his current project and I sent him a link for the best encrypted messaging apps. He just laughs and talks about how we will use kik. So I have a kik and I offered him my info if he wanted to talk to me. I really wanted to do this to get into the deepness of asking him what were we doing and why are we doing this? He said he would download the app one day. I wanted to give another hint of “hey you know these feelings are still here right?” Just to see what he would say and maybe we could have actually talked about it together this time around. I flirtishly said “you're always pulling on my string and sometimes I think you liked doing it.” 8 HOURS LATER he replies to my text saying it was funny. This was at almost 2 am. We text back and forth but my feelings hit me again. They are just escaping to freedom in mass through my eyelids .I told him how much my feelings suck and I hate them and I hate being crazy. He replies with a text but I call him. He answers. He says "What do you need to tell me Doki?"

I am already cracking my voice full of tears at this point. "What do you think!? Isn't it obvious by now? You already know I've liked you for a while. I'm in love with you and I have been for years. Your voice burns in me with passion every time I hear it. Your smile cleans off a gross dirty film off my vision and I see how great everything really can be." He then does what he does best. He starts laughing. This laugh I held in high regard is currently existing because I opened up the biggest wound I've had for almost decade.I was furious. "Seriously dude what the fuck I am opening up my feelings here and being so vulnerable with you right now and your gonna start laughing?" 

He said he was sorry. He said "I didn't mean for it to come off that way. A little thing I do is laugh when I'm uncomfortable or upset.” I stopped. Ohh I guess that would make sense. I've heard before that that's a coping mechanism for some people. Me telling myself that to rationalize his behavior. He said he was sorry for stuff he's said that's hurt my feelings and I forgave him but not just my love and sadness came to this emotional let go fest. My lust for him showed up as well. I became extremely horny like probably more horny then I have even been my entire life. I don’t know why this showed up but it did and it felt really weird cause I was just crying my eyes out two seconds ago. I say things along the lines of "Do you know what I would do for you? I would be your personal sex slave 24 hours a day. You wouldn't even have to call me by my name. Call me whatever you want I don't care." Which in my head as I'm saying these things out loud I'm telling myself, “slow down girl your getting a little ahead of yourself here.” I asked him if I could masturbate while we were on the phone. 

He said "I won't stop you." 

I started, I said his name. I touched myself with a passion I swear I heard him moan on the other end of that call. He started talking and making me laugh and I kinda got distracted from pleasuring myself just cause I wanted to listen to him talk.After he got a little more high he said he had to go back to bed and then I was just kind of left there with all my emotions that came to the surface. So I sent him some things I wrote on my Facebook and on my phone that where about him.

 A few nights later I got a little drunk and just said screw it and facebook called BW,his wife, and told her about everything. Everything besides the boob thing. I couldn’t bear telling her. She was still so sweet. More sweet than I ever could have deserved. We just discussed how I just had to stop being connected to the family and how we couldn’t be friends with them online. She made it sound like maybe one day I could though.

That’s the last thing I texted him after I promised BW and his family I wouldn’t talk to him anymore. To end the story I had one final conversation with him on the phone a few days later. I asked him if anything we did together mattered. I asked him if he ever even cared about my feelings or considered them. He told me “I am a sociopath. None of what happened between us mattered to me nor did I care.”

I said, ”Alright, that's all I needed to know” and I hung up and cried.This man was introduced to me half way through my life and even though he didn’t start becoming important in it till my late teens it hurt to just let it be gone like that. It hurt for a very long time. My friends and family and everyone had to deal with my crying and hopelessness for like 3 weeks.It’s been about a year from that point. I promise I don’t just sit there and think about him all day. I live my life, I do my job and I’m pretty content. Every so often though I’ll have dreams about him and it will just make me feel like garbage all over again. My first instinct is to just wanna call him right now. I’m trying to grow and be better. I look back and see obvious judgment errors I made over the years but I can’t go back in time and change them. 

Update: He called me 2 months ago May 2019, almost a full year from us not talking to each other at all,  I was sleeping and I answered the phone with “What do you want?” He was all like “woah, I was just going through my contacts and deleting old friends and I accidentally called you.” Which I didn’t believe for a fuckin second cause if he saw his phone calling me and didn’t wanna talk to me he wouldn’t have let it ring.I was still angry with him but he said he wanted to see how I was doing and checking on me  mentally so I told him I was doing better and proceeded to let him talk for like an hour and a  half. Just about what he’s been up to. When it was my turn to talk about myself I had to let him go because I had to go do some errands.I fully understand I should have his number blocked my problem is I don’t want to. 

I understand that my want for him is not good or healthy. My brain also tells me if I win the lottery maybe he will move in with me and I can be his sugar momma. It also tells me it doesn’t matter that I get sad when he doesn’t talk to me or answer my calls. The sadness will go away eventually and you will get to talk to him eventually. He always chooses to call you back eventually. Every time. I’ve had awful thoughts of if he decided he wanted to hurt me I wouldn’t care. Anything from him is what I want. I understand I need help. I don’t need anyone to tell my that. I use yandere to help me cope. Help me stay grounded and help me have a place to vent when by brain starts doing unhealthy things that I myself know I shouldn’t do.

[castiel-savvy18]

Right? Chapter Three

A/N: Is it going too fast? Should I slow it down a bit? Please be honest and I’d actually appreciate if someone actually said something. Thanks! Enjoy!

Warning: fluff, kissing, once again; horrible writing skills.

Word Count: 1.9K

Chapter Two

Masterlist

Ethan: Grayson, come home. Please. We need to talk. Please, Gray.

Grayson: There’s nothing to talk about. I’m just out for a drive.

Ethan: Grayson, you NEVER go for drives. Come home now.

Grayson: Make me.

Ethan: You’re such a butt. If you don’t come home I’ll.... ummm... I’ll break your blue electric guitar.

Grayson: Don’t you fucking dare.

Ethan: Then come home. Read.

20 minutes later

I’m sitting down on the couch contemplating of what and how I’m going to say I love Grayson back when he walks into the room with his head down. “I’m home...” he says with so much shyness in his voice. I stand up and grab his hand, leading him to my bedroom. “I love you too,” I say letting out a deep breathe. “You’re just saying that so I feel less embarrassed,” he says giving me a glare. I walk closer to him and put my hands on his waist, rubbing my thumbs into his hip bones, pulling him closer to the point his chest makes contact with mine. “W-wh-What are you doing,” Grayson stuttered, shocked at how intimately close we are. “I do love you. More than I should. I have for 12 years now. I finally realized last week. So no, I’m not just saying this to make you feel better. I do love you more than I should Gray,” I say to him sentimentally and rubbing his cheeks, pulling him even closer to my face. I make the biggest bold move I have ever made in my entire life and lean in to kiss him softly on the lips. I pull my face back, my eyes still fluttered closed; enjoying the intimate moment we just had. “Did you just kiss me?” Grayson asks shocked. “Yeah... is that okay??” I open my eyes looking at him with fear of rejection in my eyes, worried I just fucked up and went too fast. But the thing is, Grayson pulls me back in, crashing his plump lips onto mine, cocking his head to the right to deepen the kiss; trying to avoid our noses getting in the way. He gently shoves my mouth open with his tongue, but pulling it back out; just to tease me. I groan into the kiss, showing him that I wanted that. Grayson pulls back, his eyes still glued shut, breathing heavily. “What are we, E?” “Well, what do you want to be Grayson? I’ll do anything you want,” I say putting my hands on his chest, looking down at his peck muscles showing through his tight white shirt. “I want to be more than brothers.... even though it’s wrong, I still want to be more. I’m sure many fans would accept us, considering a lot ship us,” he replies chuckling. “I want that too, but what about our parents Gray? Grandma? Cameron? They watch our videos... what would THEY think?” I ask frowning. “If they don’t accept it, then who cares. Love is love, Ethan. They can screw off if they don’t support,” he says kissing my cheek. “Okay... I’m trusting you, Gray.” “When we gonna do the dirty truth and dare video? It’s Friday. We do it tomorrow?” Gray asks me. “Do you wanna start filming now?? Maybe we can drop hints. And then Next Tuesday we can post a video of us coming out??” “Yeah, E, that sounds great,” He says smiling, grabbing my hand and leading us to the filming room.

“What’s up, guys! Today we are filming a dirty truth and dare! Don’t target me, it was Ethan’s idea. He’s the one with the dirty mind!” Grayson says waving and then pointing at me. “Yeah, true dat, daddy,” I say smirking. I see him looking down clenching his jaw blushing. Hehe. Got him now. Maybe that would be a good hint to them. “Graysonnnnn, you’re blushing!!! You like being called daddy?!” I say laughing and whispering in his ear daddy. He looks over at me with a glare and says stop with gritted teeth.

“Alright, Grayson, you ready to get this started!” I said clapping my hands and casually put my hand on his upper thigh. Another hint to the fans. Grayson looks down at my hand but looks back up smiling, “Yeah, let’s do it. Do you wanna ask first?” “Damn right!” I say excitingly. I’m really looking forward to doing some of the dares I came up with. I grab the white piece of paper out of my black skinny jeans with all the truths and dares written. “Okay, Truth? Or Dare?” I ask him with a smirk. Please be dare. Please be dare. “Truth.” Damnit. “Ugh. Okay. Uhhhh, just saying you NEED to answer or you’ll gain a strike, which will make you a loser if you get the most strikes in the end and you’ll have to do something embarrassing.... in public...” I say smirking, just coming up with the rules. “Omg. Okay... bring it on...” “Okay, how many times a day do you masturbate?” I ask smirking. Grayson isn’t the type to put stuff out there so personal, but today he’s gonna have to. “Uh. I don’t do it every day. But... um..” he coughs uncomfortably. “Maybe... like um... 6-10 times a week???” He replies blushing. “Ha. Okay,” I say raising my signature eyebrow. “Truth? Or Dare?” Grayson asks me. “Dare.” “I dare you to uh, strip down naked and start dancing....” he says laughing. “You’ll blur it out, right?” I ask nervously. I mean yeah, he’s seen me many times, but since now we are more, it’s a bit more... intimate... “Of course, Ethan. We would get flagged and banned if we didn’t,” he says chuckling. “Okay. Any specific dance moves??” I ask. “Maybe like, a lot of hip movements...” I get up and start taking off my shirt, my palms starting to sweat. This... this is going to be weird... Next, I pull down my black skinny jeans, then my black compression boxers. I look over to see Grayson still staring at the camera smiling. Why the fuck isn’t he looking at me. “Okay, um. I’m undressed... are you gonna play any music or am I literally just going to dance to nothing?” I ask chuckling nervously. “Oh right, hold on, let me pull up a song.” I start hearing Deepthroat by  CupcakKe playing. “Wow, Gray. Classic.”

Grayson starts laughing his ass off looking at me pump my hips and putting my hands behind my head. I make movements with my hands pretending to suck a dick. To make him laugh even more I jokingly swing my hips from side to side, making him stop laughing... He’s clenching his jaw and blushing but forcing a laugh so the fans don’t notice. Once the beat ends I pull back on my boxers and jeans but leave my shirt off. I look over and he’s still smiling awkwardly, shifting his weight side to side. I look down to see his light washed skinny jeans slightly tightening. This fucker got a boner watching me. I start laughing at him which makes him blush even more slapping my shoulder. “Stop! It’s not funny,” he yells at me. I’m keeping this in the video. The fans will definitely notice. “Can we just move on now?” Grayson asks through gritted teeth. “Truth? Or Dare?” I ask still smirking. “Dare.” “I dare you to start groping yourself, all over your body. At least from your face to your ‘downtown’” I say chuckling, putting downtown in quotation marks. “Ughhh,” he grunts but puts his hand on his face moving them down more and moves to his chest, pinching his nipples, fake moaning, but is it really fake? He then slides his hands down to his crotch and gropes it as a typical white rapper would. Classic. When he does that, he looks straight at me giving me a smirk. “Okay, wow,” I say with a little bit of shock and lust in my voice. Neither of us have points yet. We get through most of all the truth and dares and Grayson got one point from not agreeing to kiss me. “Well, looks like Grayson is the loser!! Damn Gray, you should’ve just kissed me. Now you’re gonna embarrass yourself in public,” I say smirking. “What do I have to do?” “You have to go streaking,” I say laughing. “Ethan! That’s illegal!” He yells. “Then run fast, big boy,” I say smirking.

I made him get off at one part of the sidewalk and then I drove the car down a little way so he could run there and get in there. I meet back up with him and take his clothes while he undresses, still filming. Grayson grunts and gives me a look of “your getting payback”, he looks ahead holding his junk trying to cover it up. He gets looks of disgust from many older people and a couple whistles from older men who are clearly perverts. Grayson starts sprinting down, me following behind a bit and stopping to steady the camera so people can actually see. I see him get into the car, I jog down laughing my ass off looking at him panting for breath, his face beet red. “I hate you, Ethan,” he says wheezing for air. I hand him back his clothes along with his inhaler so he doesn’t pass out. “Nah, you love me,” I say smirking. “Yeah, I do,” he says, then pecking me on the cheek. He gives me a look of saying to me to act disgusted but I don’t listen, this is a good hint to the fans. He groans and looks away, pissed at the fact I didn’t do what he wanted me to do. “Can we go home?” He asks grumpily. We start driving, not filming anymore. I notice that he hadn’t put his clothes on, still covering himself up. “You know you can put your clothes on...” I say laughing. “Oh, right.”

We get home and film the outro, “PEACE!” “Can you edit out that kiss on the cheek I gave you in the car?” He asks. “No, it’s a good hint to the fans.” “E, it’s too much of a hint. Please?” “Fine...”

Tuesday:

“Hey, guys!! The video is gonna be up in 20 minutes!!!” They both say on each other’s snaps.

“Wow, Gray, look at these comments. I think some fans are suspicious now. Which is good!” I say happily.

Are you guys like a thing???

You guys seem extra close today.

Wow, Grayson is blushing too much.

I bet Grayson was blushing because Ethan’s dick is big.

I can slightly see a bulge in Grayson's pants!! He’s totally got a boner!

Omg, your right!!!

Grethan is soooo real!!! 😁😃

I ship is hardcore. I really hope Grethan is canon!

Both Grayson and Ethan scan the comments. “Wow, this is great. Can’t wait to tell them next week. We already got lots of them being super happy we are ‘extra close’” Grayson says smirking.

“Yeah, Next Tuesday is going to be interesting... let’s just hope mom, dad, Cam, and grandma support...”

“I’m sure they will, E. I hope they do.”

With that, they both post on their twitter that the next video is going to be a serious one.

@ethandolan: Hey guys, next video is gonna be pretty serious. I hope you all support Gray and me....

“Next Tuesday...” I say sighing. “Next Tuesday,” Gray replies kissing my cheek.

[dudence-blog]

Dear Dudence for 8 March 2018

Been doing some home projects and was very proud of a nice TV shelf I built. Very proud of how it turned out and I can still count to 10!  YAY!  Winning.  So, now we’re off to the questions and answering them for people who don’t know I’m answering them! 

My father passed away last year and I’ve finished up most of the legal matters, but I have boxes and boxes of family photos. My father was born very poor, but I doubt members of the British royal family have led such documented lives. I have hundreds of photos of him at every stage of his life. I have photos of my mother—including an album and 16 mm film from her first wedding, a marriage that only lasted eight months. I have photos of my grandparents, great-grandparents, great-great-great grandparents. I have school pictures, team pictures, travel pictures, holiday pictures. All these photos completely fill a large walk-in closet.

Dear Family Photos, you don’t need to sacrifice your space and time to store something you don’t want.  I do think you should do what you can to preserve those items.  Just because you can’t imagine who’d want to see it doesn’t mean no one in your family, or elsewhere, won’t.  if you’ve got the money to spend it would probably be worth looking into a photo organizing/digitizing service.  You could probably even solicit financial help from the rest of the family since it is a project aimed at the family.  Get an estimate, shoot out and email saying what it’s going to cost and see if anyone would like to PayPal you some of the cash.  Depending on how much you value your time and doing something else with it the several hundred to over a thousand dollars for such services might even be cheap.  If you’re balking at the cost try and get some other interested family members to come over and go through the bounty.  Put everything that can be identified in one pile, that which can’t in another.  Apply whatever filters you want to the first pile; “We want 10 photos of Grandma and Grandpa”, “At least one photo from every house we lived in”, whatever.  Let your imagination run wild.  When everything is filtered take the discard pile, contact your local historical society or a heritage society and see if they’d like some of the photos (great-great-great grandparent pictures might feature background locations which have been destroyed for decades).  If there is a design or art school in the area see if they could use it; old photos can be used in projects, for inspiration, whatever.  Finally, just take some handfuls, post them on eBay as bulk vintage photographs and sell them.  You don’t need to let your family’s history dominate your storage space, but you can fulfill your role of custodian and not let than happen.

We took in my son’s girlfriend when she was 15, after her stepfather broke her arm and her mother threw her out because she wouldn’t lie to the police to protect him. She was the daughter people pray for: kind, respectful, and smart—she graduated fourth in her class despite everything she went through. My son and her broke up in their senior year, but she continued to live with us even while our son went off to college. (She went to community college and became a pharmacy tech.) They are both 23 now. We see her regularly and consider her part of our family. My son’s current girlfriend dislikes this. She says she will not come to visit us if we continue to have her over, and guilts my son for coming alone. He skipped Christmas and Thanksgiving last year on her orders.

Dear Like a Daughter, sometimes it’s really hard not to let me mind go wild filling in missing context.  Such as how much of “what my girlfriend said” have you heard from the girlfriend herself and not through your son?  “How does your son feel about his ex becoming his ‘sister’ in the eyes of his family?”  “Was their break-up mutual and amicable?”  “Are there any sort of lingering romantic feelings from either party?”  Taking everything at face value your son is probably letting his dick do a bit too much of his thinking for him.  Disappointing, but understandable.  It also means you probably don’t need to worry about this breaking up your family or you losing your son.  He’ll be moving on.  Taking this a step deeper though, let’s look at what’s going on here.  Your other children have discontinued contact.  You’re using some pretty hurtful language to describe your son’s disappointing but not wholly unusual actions, and I’m going to question just how welcoming you are towards his new girlfriend given you’re referring to a woman he’s been with for at least half a year as “the girl he has been sleeping with”.  Finally, your foster daughter is a young woman herself, maybe she should be finding her own “boy/girl she has been sleeping with” so she’s not left with “Ex’s family” as the only people she has in her life.  

My mother remarried when I was 17 to “Dan.” Dan was accused of molesting several neighborhood girls after I was 23 and married. The evidence was pretty damning: Beyond the girls’ testimony, he sent explicit photos to a 12-year-old girl and tried to get her to do the same. Dan plea bargained and served less than a year in prison. My mother stood by him during it all and even sold the house my dead father left her to pay for Dan’s legal fees. Her support of Dan broke our relationship. Our last serious conversation involved me begging her to see the evidence (the texts had just come to light), and I asked what she would have done if I had been one of those molested little girls. My mother said that wouldn’t have happened because she didn’t raise me to be a “slut.” Since then, I don’t visit and rarely call my mother.  I am pregnant now, and we know it is going to be a little girl. After we posted the news on Facebook, my mother sent me a physical letter explaining that she was sorry about our “estrangement,” excited to be a grandma, and hoped this would be a new beginning for us all. I miss her so badly, and never thought I would go through this without her.

Dear Mom’s Support of a Child Molester, wow… and then there’s the letter which fills in a lot of the contect.  This is not better.  On principle I have a tough time condemning someone for loving who they love; emotions are weird.  But I think you’ve got to make the difficult decision to cut your mom out of the loop for the time being.  Maybe permanently.  It’s not the “being married to a child molester” part which really squicked me out, but the part where she says the girls bore some responsibility for Dan’s actions.  It would be one thing if she admitted he’d done some terrible things, but she still loves him in spite of it… he paid the price for his actions… blah blah blah.  I mean, shoot, a father in Texas just successfully petitioned the governor to commute his son’s death sentence, the sentence he received for murdering his mother and brother.  Your mother’s view of the victims is really the red flag here.  I’d leave the option open to repair the breach in your relationship with you mom, but it’s going to have to come with her having a reckoning of just how, and why, she has supported Dan.

I attended a trivia event with some fellow “mums of young bubs” for a girls’ night out. I was having a great time until I saw some of the women cheating by Googling answers. This made me feel uncomfortable (I’m an honorable soul), but the awkwardness grew worse when at the end of the night we won the second-place prize (a bottle of wine—each!) by only two points. We cheated on more than two answers, so we definitely cheated other tables out of prizes.

Dear Trivial Trivia Concerns, if you only won by two points despite Googling it’s likely the competitors were doing so as well.  That really doesn’t matter though since your issue is with the cheating itself.  When you go next month tell the girls you don’t want your team to cheat.  You’re enjoying the night out in and of itself and will happily supply the wine if you don’t win because you were playing fair.  Heck, you’ll probably be supplying better wine than you’d get from a bar’s give-away for a trivia game.  As for what to do with your ill-gotten gains: drink the fucking wine.

One of my best friends since teenage years (we’re in our mid-30s now) has consistently made terrible dating choices: abusive men, drug addicts, just plain jerks, you name it. She is a great single mother to a wonderful 6-year-old, and got back together six-ish months ago with “Jake,” a guy she briefly dated a few years ago. She recently moved in with him, and while he seems nice enough, even she admits he is not the sharpest tool in the shed and doesn’t have a lot of personality or interests. In fact, this is why she broke up with him in the first place. When I expressed surprise that they were back together, she made a comment about how she was just ready to “settle” because she was tired of being single.

Dear Best Friend Troubles, this is an AB issue and you should C your way out of it.  Do you know why your friend thinks Jake is dull without a lot of personality and interests?  It’s because he’s not an abusive, drug addicted jerk.  After a decade or so of filling her life with shocking levels of drama she is with someone who does not bring the noise.  As a metaphor, just because a habanero pepper isn’t as hot as a ghost pepper, doesn’t mean the habanero isn’t also hot.  Jake most likely is plenty interesting as “Jake”, he just appears uninteresting because his interests don’t include a series of unfortunate events which inexorably lead to a visit from the police.  Honestly, that you’re proudly stating how your friend views you as a font of relationship advice, and your advice has led her to a string of soul-destroying horrors, you might want to rethink the little voice in your head telling you that you’re not sure if you should be encouraging her relationship with nice, personable Jake.  Let me be blunt, you need to see something shocking to the senses if you come away from your visit to your wrong-side-of-thirty single-mom-with-a-history-of-abusive-relationships friend saying anything to her but your best wishes for their happy future together.  

I am 34, with a Ph.D. and a successful, happy life. I am regularly mistaken for being much younger—often a college student. (I live in a city with many colleges, which probably doesn’t help.) Though I’ll be “thankful for this someday,” according to many well-meaning but semi-irritating strangers, I have struggled for years to think of an appropriate response to people’s surprise upon learning my actual age. For a bartender or checkout clerk, a smile and nod tends to be OK. (I’ve also tried, “Yeah, I get that a lot and I never quite know what to say,” but that never seems to help.) In a professional environment, things feel a bit weightier, as I don’t want people to assume my experience and skill set is below where I actually am.

Dear Not as Young as You Think, the appropriate response is “Yeah, I get that a lot,” which you already know.  And it is going to continue to be annoying for you until the inevitability of time consumes your youthful appearance.  Hopefully it is more gradual for you than it was for Dorian Gray.  And involves less murder.  What I do wonder about is your professional situation.  Since your phd isn’t assumed is it something which isn’t expected in your field?  It is entirely possible that “you are much earlier in your career” compared to peers only a couple years older than you, despite you being very educated and credentialed.  They spent the years you were in school working.

I’m a 23-year-old woman and have been dating my girlfriend for just over eight months. I’m over the moon about it, we’re happy together, and we communicate well. Here’s the thing: She’s a bit high-strung and tends to react to small issues in life with tears. We’ve spoken about it and she has reassured me that it’s not a big deal, and that when she cries it doesn’t necessarily mean that anything terrible is happening. I really struggle with this. I grew up in a household with a lot of abuse, both physical and verbal, directed at everyone. My self-appointed role as keeper of the peace meant that I spent my entire childhood on the lookout for subtle signs of distress in everyone so that I could try and mitigate it. Someone crying sets off all of my alarm bells for “something I have to fix,” and it is very hard for me not to overreact to her tears.

Dear Not a Big Deal When She Cries, you know, I’m going to go ahead and say that the high-strung person in a relationship isn’t the one with the hair-trigger tears but the one who is a self-appointed relationship peacekeeper from the abusive household who is struggling to adapt to someone else’s emotions.  It is entirely possible this is just an issue which the two of you are incompatible.  When you’re still in the euphoric happy banging stage of a relationship and you’re finding yourself emotionally drained and internally annoyed by her innocent behavior that is not a strong indicator for future happiness.  You should totally check into some options to help you deal with your issues from growing up, but it might not be much help for this current girlfriend.  Maybe you could try and find the girl from the “Like a Daughter” and see if she’s into some sapphic delights.  She’s got no one in her life and might be wasting her time pining for an ex who has moved on.  Give it a go!

[along-the-devils-backbone]

This is my Grandpa. He was Bi, Feminine, and Jewish.

His name was James (like so many other people in my family, including his son, my dad, who was named after him). 

Grandpa Jim was a huge part of my life -- but at first, it was only as sort of a background character. Someone you hear about, but never see... but he was always there. Always on the back of my mind. 

See, my dad, was born out of wedlock to a woman (my grandmother, obviously) named Betty-Lou, and her one-night-stand with this man that involved a locked bedroom and a dare from friends. Grandpa was not amused.

Regardless, it ended up in my Dad being born, and my Grandpa was infatuated with him from the start... but by the time he was born, Grandma was already married to a man my Dad would grow up knowing as his father until he was nearly 30 -- a short, tough man named Guy, who my dad idolized. 

When my Dad was 30-ish, I came home from Kindergarten to find him sitting on the front porch, his head in his hands, and mum sitting next to him. I knew something was wrong, but didn’t comprehend what. All of my grandparents were dead before I turned one year old, so I didn’t understand what they meant when they said they found out I still have a grandpa. You can’t just... lose one, and then find it again, right??

A year later, I’m in first grade, and my parents are taking me on a road trip down to Florida to meet my actual blood-related Grandpa for the first time. They tell me all about him, from what they learned from the letters they wrote back and forth for the past year. 

1) Grandpa can’t read or write, because he’s dyslexic, and nobody taught him how to do it with his disability. 

2) Grandpa works as a house-cleaner. 

3) Grandpa is Gay, and lives with a man named Allen. 

Being like, 6 or 7, i didn’t know what the hell “Gay” meant. I was too excited thinking about all the new things I’d get to do with my only living grandparent! I wouldn’t be left out of grandparent’s day at school anymore! I could have family holidays with a grandpa! I could sleep over at his house and do cool stuff like all the other kids do! This was awesome! 

When we met them, they lived in a small apartment building, next to a golf course. The house was immaculate. There were doilies on everything, and lace covers on the floral couch. Everything smelled like potpurri, and there was a pretty crocheted doll on the one single bed in the house. In the bathroom, hung a calendar with half-naked firemen. 

I was so excited, because now i had TWO grandpas!!! Allen would braid my hair in the hotel room, and tell me stories about things, and tell dad jokes, while Grandpa would blow raspberries on my brother’s belly and piggyback him around the room. Everything was perfect. 

We went back home, here to Indiana, and we kept in touch with Grandpa. Dad was always uncomfortable around his real dad, and i always attributed it to the fact that he was getting used to the idea of having a dad again. After all, it had been about 8 years since the dad he knew all his life, had passed away. 

It turned out, my dad was angry, that he was gay. My dad, as many of you already know, is a massive homophobic asshole -- and this is half the reason i’m writing this post. 

See, Grandpa and Allen decided to move their entire life from Florida, to Indiana to be with us. To be with Grandpa’s side of the family. (Prior, they had moved from California, to New York, to Florida, living a rich life because Allen’s family was well-to-do. They saw broadway musicals, and lived in fancy apartments... it was a lot like “the birdcage”, but instead of a drag club, Allen worked as a bigwig for a very well-known department store, and Grandpa was his sugarbaby.). 

Except, Allen wouldn’t make it here. 

During the move, Allen discovered he had leukemia and the move was put on hold for a couple of months, until he passed away. Everything was chaos, and i don’t remember much. I don’t know if i went to the funeral or not, but I know Allen is buried in California, in a huge Jewish cemetery, and that Grandpa used to visit his grave every year on their anniversary. 

It was also this anniversary, that he never spoke of. 

Due to some family bullshit that ensued, Grandpa’s side of the family hid him from us, and fed him lies that we were stealing his money (when in fact, they were doing it behind his back). Grandpa disappeared from our lives, as quickly as he had come into it. By the end of third grade, I had no idea what had happened. I had suddenly gained two grandpas, and lost them without warning -- and i wasn’t allowed to talk about them at all, without making people angry. 

As i grew up, I learned what had happened, and I was mad. 

Why didn’t my dad fight his aunts and uncles to see Grandpa?? Why didn’t he take it to court? Why didn’t he just drive up there and ask them what the fuck was going on, and tell grandpa the truth!? Why didn’t he fight!??

Because dad didn’t like him. Dad saw his own father as an abomination. Something gross, to be hated, because he had dared to love another man. Dad felt like he was the victim, because his mother had decided to rape my grandpa on a drunken dare, and then swear her other children to secrecy when he was born, that no one would ever tell him otherwise until he was almost 30 years old, and her sister (my great-aunt) couldn’t take the guilt anymore. 

I wrote my Grandpa letters. I never knew his address, and knew my mum wouldn’t tell me, so i couldn’t send them -- but i wrote them anyway. I talked to him, about all the things that happened in my life. I would tell him what I got for christmas, and how my dog was hit by a car. I told him about graduating 5th grade, and all the awards I got in school. I wrote to him about my first kiss with a boy, and how I’d fallen in love with my fiance and how I hoped that the love I feel for him is the same love he felt for Allen. 

Years and years and years went by, and we never heard anything from him, and i slowly realized that it wasn’t just my dad’s fault. Grandpa never reached out to us either. We moved house again. Finally, I decided to take the shoebox of letters I’d written him, and burn them. There was no point sending them anyway, if he couldn’t read them -- and I didn’t want anyone else reading them to him. I had hoped to read them to him myself one day, when “things got better”. 

I shouldn’t have burned them. 

A few years ago, we got a phonecall from someone -- I don’t remember who -- telling us Grandpa wanted to talk to us. He said it was important. I thought “He  must be dying.” 

Dad went first, and talked to him, then came home, and told us we were going to meet him again. Everything felt weird. Dad was upset... angry even... but there was also something else that I couldn’t explain. I’d find out later, it was confusion. 

Grandpa wasn’t dying (yet). But he was broke. All the riches that Allen had left him (well over a couple hundred thousand) was completely gone. He was living in a double-wide trailer, in a slummy trailer park on the outskirts of Indianapolis. 

Every inch of that trailer was crammed with the kitchiest knick knacks and “old grandma” decor you could think of. 

His family, had taken every cent he owned, and blamed us -- long after we had disappeared. When grandpa had caught on to what was happening, it was too late. He tried working at Meijers as a bag boy, but later retired when they wanted him to do more, and he couldn’t read or write to do it. He was left with nothing, and a dwindling account of leftover change to help sustain him. Scared, he had called us for help, and to apologize for his blindness. 

I welcomed him back with open arms. 

My dad though, was angry at him still. He hated him (and often told me so). He hated that he now had to care for his gay, feminine father. He was NOTHING like the tough, masculine, firecracker of a dad he had grown up with. He was nothing like Guy (a man so masculine they had to name him after his own gender). 

We moved Grandpa to an apartment complex for the elderly. Dad never wanted to visit. He would show up with mum, so mum could help grandpa with his medicines, and he would take grandpa to appointments, come fix his TV, etc -- but he never stayed long. He hated grandpa’s hugs, he hated his kisses, he hated everything about him. 

I wanted to see Grandpa so bad. There was so much I wanted to talk to him about -- so much that we’d missed out on!! How could anyone hate such a sweet old man!? 

In the first picture, you can see a latchhook hanging of a menorrah and some hebrew script:

This thing. He made that. He had a torah, and all kinds of delicate star-of-david necklaces hanging around it that were Allen’s. He would tell me how he loved going to church with him and his family, and how he eagerly accepted Allen’s religion into his life, because “That’s what partners do”. Even if that religion told them they were wrong, or disgusting. He loved Allen. 

Jimmy (my fiance) started taking me to visit him on the other side of town, as often as we could. We’d cook dinner for him (he adored asian food), and we’d talk about stuff. Anything, and everything. There was so much to talk ABOUT. 

He talked about the girls he loved, and the men he had crushes on -- and how he was never ashamed of who he was. 

He talked about going to Dollywood with Allen every summer, and how he’d watch Carol Burnette until he had tears in his eyes. 

He told me about his mother’s halloween costume one year, where she dressed up in iodine-soaked bandages, a straw hat, and carried a rooster around in a cage, and everyone was so scared of whatever the hell it was that she was, that they were too afraid to ask, and gave her an award for her costume. He laughed so hard describing it, i thought he was going to hyperventilate XD 

He told me how he loves to paint his nails, and do his makeup. He showed me his drawer full of makeup that was so ancient, i’m not entirely sure the last time that brand existed -- but he was so scared of culture today, that he didn’t want to buy new stuff. He saw the hate on the news, and told me he was afraid of being beaten to death for buying lipstick for himself at the dollar store down the road. 

I wanted to fucking cry. The very real idea, that someone could want to beat my grandfather to death for buying makeup for himself, infuriated me... and I knew how real that threat was. I offered to buy him new makeup, but he told me no. It would “make your father uncomfortable.” so he chose to go without -- but he kept his collection for memory’s sake anyway. 

When Gay Marriage became legal, Grandpa called me to celebrate. He told me he was so happy to see it all over the news, on every channel, he wanted to cry (and he did, you could tell lol). He told me he wished that Allen had lived long enough to see it become a reality, so that they could have been “legal”. (and now i’m crying writing this too). 

Then, Grandpa’s health went downhill. It started slow at first. He would cough a lot, and hard. Emphysema -- from smoking when he was younger. 

Then he started to fall, bruising himself getting out of the tub as he fell to the floor. Then Hallucinations -- imagining the maid standing above him, laughing, as he lay on the floor of the bathroom. He saw the shamwow guy step out of the TV and steal things from off the table. He would call us and speak nonsense, and dad would rush over to see if he was okay. It was Dementia. 

Eventually, he fell too hard and wound up on the floor for hours, crawling to the front door to yell for help down the hallway. He bled everywhere, and it was dangerous because he had Hepatitis B. 

He was hospitalized, and told that he was too far gone to live on his own anymore. The hospital wouldn’t even discharge him unless we put him in a nursing home or hospice care. 

Dad picked the first nursing home on the list, and we took him there. It was hell. Frayed wires all over the walls, a stained bed, broken doors, and a layer of dust so thick it looked like frosting on a cake (and while that’s bad for anybody, it would make it hell for people with emphysema). I took pictures of everything. (they’re still here on the blog somewhere). 

We went home, and I cried. We left grandpa in a hellhole. An absolute HELLHOLE. Dad was content to leave him there. We had our first major fight that night. Mum and I both screamed at him, that these were NOT conditions that you leave your own parent in, especially one that loves you as much as Grandpa did. (He ADORED dad, despite the fact that dad hated him). 

We eventually argued and screamed, and threw things at eachother, until Dad relented, and we both got up early the next morning to check out new nursing homes. 

We found one, that was perfect. They were clean, and bright, and friendly, and so so sweet. Every patient we talked to, had nothing but good things to say about it. There wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere to be seen. We took him there immediately, and when the first nursing home threatened to sue us, I held up my camera and showed them the pictures of all the hazards in that room, and asked them if they REALLY wanted to push it. They gave up, and let us go. 

Grandpa’s health went downhill fast after that. He got weaker, and couldn’t eat solid foods, and forgot where he was. We came anyway. Dad visited him as often as he could, but never long enough. It was more like a thing to check off on your to-do list than something you wanted to do. 

Jimmy would bring me to see him every other week. We’d bring him food, and watch movies on my laptop. We downloaded hours and hours of carol burnette to watch with him until he’d fall asleep with a huge smile on his face. 

He ended up passing away in January 11, 2015 -- and i was crying so hysterically, I couldn’t go near the casket. I ended up leaving the funeral because I couldn’t be in the same room as him. My heart was broken. 

We couldn’t afford to bury him in the cemetery next to his husband. We couldn’t even afford to bury him at all. We knew it was against his religion to be cremated, but he agreed it was the only thing we could afford, and that he said God would forgive him for it. It was just a body, after all -- not his soul -- and if god could be wrong about two men loving eachother, then he could be wrong about bodies too. All that was important, is that he’d see Allen again. 

When we had to clear out his apartment, Dad wanted to sell everything (and he did, mostly). It took a lot of fighting for me to be able to take ONE box of mementos, including every piece of religious material I could find. All i kept, was one bible, and his latchhook. The rest, I donated to the jewish bakery in town, who was so thankful, and promised that everything would be put to good use (Including the massive box of yarmulkes/Kippahs, which is far too many for one man to own, but grandpa was very fashionable and had to have one for every outfit). 

I write this now, not to share a sob story about my Grandpa -- but to show you how loving, and incredible this man was, and to point out that there are people in this world, in the U.S, who would want that man dead, just because of who and what he was. 

There are people in this world, who call themselves alt-right, and nazis, who would have GLADLY beaten the fuck out of my grandfather -- the kindest, sweetest, gentlest man i’ve ever met in my LIFE -- just because he wanted to wear lipstick, or love a man, or worship a different god -- and it makes me so. fucking. sick. 

The fact that there are people out there, who argue that those nazis should be ALLOWED to look at my grandpa and tell me that the world would be a better place without him, or his husband, or his family, and that I’m not allowed to want to punch them, or tell them the same -- is mind boggling. 

If nazis, under any name they may go by, want to take people like my grandpa and wipe them off the face of the earth, or preach about doing it -- I won’t let them. I will fight them. I will argue, and kick, and scream, and throw punches, and I know that there are people who will stand by me, and I know for a fact that there are people in your life, that you would do the same for. 

[steamishot]

Mid-November

Wow. It’s been an eventful past two weeks. I feel like I’m still on vacation mode because it’s almost Thanksgiving and then winter break a few weeks after that. Work has been at a steady pace – I have things to do so it’s not totally boring, but it’s not very busy to the point of being stressed out.

The day before Halloween, I came to work half day and then bounced. 10 hour red eye flight to London later, I arrived at noon. I waited for Matt who arrived an hour later from NY. He had just got a haircut, and they didn’t do him good ($5 NY Chinatown haircut), so he wasn’t as attractive when I first met him. He also gained weight from residency and the stress aged him. On my flight, I also got a swollen eyelid. I remember feeling pretty sad on the flight because I didn’t wanna look dumb with a swollen eyelid in my Europe photos lol. I felt it when I woke up from a nap, and immediately asked a flight attendant for some ice. The swelling did go down, but it lasted for another 2 days.

London was pretty fun. I had the impression that the UK has the worst food in the world (lol) but I was pleasantly surprised by the food we had! It could be that we just chose good restaurants (on the fancier/more expensive side). We reached a level of comfort where we farted a lot throughout the trip and pooped freely in front of each other. I was also surprised that our digestive systems were keeping up with all the eating we were doing. Not once did I feel constipated, as I felt in Asia after overeating. We were pooping like 3-4x a day I think lol. Because of the cold, my face started peeling after a few days too.

Before arriving to London, a small concern I had was being an “outsider” because of my American accent, but I think because London is a big multicultural city, I didn’t feel like I was different. I heard plenty of other people with American and non-British accents. I really liked their transportation system, the tube. It was smaller than any other subway I’ve been on. Instead of buying a pass, we were able to use our contactless credit cards as a substitute. It cost about $9.50 for unlimited tube usage per day, which is a bargain imo, given how efficient their system is. I also loved their style – dark and grungy, just like their weather. Their milk tea was surprisingly delicious too.

Amsterdam – our hotel was really nice. Architecture is beautiful. I can understand how my cousins who visited from France seemed unimpressed by LA – our city is not very aesthetically pleasing architecture wise. I ate a space cake and at first thought it was a tourist trap because I didn’t feel anything. But after an hour and a half, it finally hit me. I had a nice high and was giggly/happy.

Matt and I came back to LA, and it was his first time back in LA after 5 months. We spent 6 nights together in Europe, 2 nights in our respective homes, and then 3 nights at his place, 1 night in our respective homes, and the last night at his place. I joked to myself that LDR is like periods of neglect, then periods of smothering. I did feel annoyed with him during some points of our time together and I wasn’t used to the amount of time we had together – I craved for alone time after our trip. I learned that it’s best to just voice it instead of bottling it in, but it’s sometimes hard to when he’s a tired resident and you feel a little sorry for them. It took him like a week and half to return to his old, happy and relaxed self. Traveling isn’t quite relaxing because we’re always on the go. When he got back to LA, he was still extremely tired, and had feet pain from months of being on his feet for long hours without appropriate shoes.

I had 3 meals with his family (his dad is still in China) by his mom’s invitation – Saturday dimsum, Sunday Japanese lunch to celebrate cousin’s birthday, and Tuesday hot pot dinner. His mom also bought me a blouse. It was a coral color and too girly/not my style, and it looked a little cheap lol. It was a nice gesture, but I ended up giving it back to her because it didn’t fit. Matt will be coming back to LA for an interview in Palm Desert in a few weeks, and she was already planning what to cook. Tuesday was their family’s first time going to eat hot pot ever. Their dad is not a fan, and the two boys and mom never really cared for it either. Matt only started eating hot pot (my fav) after I introduced him to it. It made me happy when his 15 year old brother said- I always thought hot pot was not good until today. The whole family (and grandma) all enjoyed the dinner, and the mom said she’ll make hot pot at home (first time) the next time matt’s in town. She extended the invitation to me. By the third meal, I felt more comfortable being around them. Their family is much more academically inclined. His mom and cousin were talking to me about Chinese proverbs and history.

I also met all his close friends on Saturday night. I was intimidated at first, but once I was in the space I was pretty comfortable and was able to talk to them easily (alcohol helped). Another friend brought his white girlfriend out, and it was everyone’s first time meeting her too. I looked through his group chat the next day, because I was curious if they said anything about me lol, and one guy said “Just wanted to say, your gf is very kind. Considerate. Same thing” which got lost in the chat because they’re not very responsive to people’s texts. The next morning I got breakfast with another one of his friends and someone from the night before.

With my past partners (D & J) where I’ve met family/friends, I was never too crazy about the idea. It could be that I’m more social now, an age thing, or that Matt’s friends and family are the type that I mesh well with – but I had a great time with them. They’re lowkey, smart, into yoga, and clean eating (and they’re older, so they’re over the partying phase). Definitely nicer than David’s ratchet friends. I’m thinking about what to gift Matt’s mom for treating me well when I see her next. Feels like I have a mother in law lol.

Another cute thing we did was a “family day”. Months ago, Matt talked about wanting to do a family day like all go to Disneyland together. His mom brought up Venice canals and we ended up going there – mom, grandma, brother, and two cousins after the cousin’s bday lunch. His family’s not really the type to go out and do things together as everyone’s quite busy and they don’t value family time/just hanging out very much. We got a really cute group photo and the mom was in our faces one time taking a photo of us lol. Matt ended up sending the group photo to his dad in China. After all this time with family and friends, I felt integrated. I have a better idea of what my sister in law feels when she hangs out with us. The dynamics do change.

Eating with their family, I thought “man, big and tall boys must be expensive to raise because they just eat so much”.  It was nice to see him interact with his mom and being excited over food. At the restaurant he would ask her “mom can we order this?” like a little boy would, and the two boys (even though both are ~6 ft tall) seemed like little innocent boys to me. The mom also commented that the brother’s new haircut is nice because it makes him look like a teenager. Instead of his past haircut that made him look in his 20s. I always thought the whole looking older than you are was more of an issue with teenage girls, so it was interesting hearing that about a boy. They also walk around in their underwear at home. His mom commented that he needs to watch his weight LOL and told me to help him because he doesn’t listen to her.

On veterans day, we had a relaxing day – pho for breakfast, walk at a park, couples massage (amazing massage for cheap, but uncomfortable at times because I had just eaten), hot yoga at a bougie studio that his friend goes to. By Tuesday night, he returned back to happy and relaxed Matt. He looked younger, happier, his eye bags were gone, he was more attractive also bc he got his hair fixed, and he was more present.

Matt’s mom dropped him off at union station the day he flew out, and she gave him a full frontal hug for the first time. I asked, what’d you do? And he said he gave her a full hug too. In the past, it was like no hug, then side hug. First time full frontal hug.

Now I’m barely settling in and getting into the swing of things. Have to clean up my room/house. Things to look forward to:

Girls night – DIY pizza

Hiking

Simple Plan concert

Thanksgiving/ Friendsgiving potluck

Black Friday shopping - clothes/mattress

Matt coming back for a weekend

NY/Washington DC, Philly