#so ever since my mom got cancer again my friends have kind of forgotten about me

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #214

Your opinion on smoking: I don't think it's a good idea, but you do you. I don't at all support smoking around others that do not consent to it, however; smoking right outside of public spaces even makes me mad. Second-hand smoke has killed an obscene amount of people. You don't have to touch a cigarette to die from lung cancer.

Have you ever wanted a wild animal for a pet? If yes, what animal? I am very serious about rescuing an opossum one day. I would never do this without the proper education and permit though.

Do you like group work? Absolutely not.

Do you have any stickers on your laptop? No, but I'd like some. It's just not something I'm willing to spend money on when you consider I don't have an income, and I certainly don't care enough to ask for laptop stickers as a present.

Does your grass need cut currently? No, the dude who mows our lawn was here not too long ago.

Are you a godparent? No.

Have you ever gone a full day without interacting with another person? Yep.

How many watches do you own? None.

Who was the last person you sincerely thanked? Girt, for just being a great guy.

Have you ever been carded when buying something? Yes.

Can you have more than one best friend? Of course you can.

What was the last thing you drank? At the time I'm answering this question, I have raspberry lemonade-flavored water.

Do you ever wonder if you will get in a car accident and die? Yes, I do. I'm terrified of cars on the road.

One night stand or relationship? One night stands are not for me.

Do you honestly have any regrets? Yes.

Who was the last girl to say something to you? My mom.

New tats in your near future? No. Of course I WANT loads more, but they're just not my priority right now.

How about piercings or re-piercings? Again, probably not soon, despite wanting more. I'll maybe ask for a nose piercing for Christmas, but that's not exactly soon.

Have you ever had a tattoo covered up or added to? Two actually. I plan on covering one more (it's very simple and VERY badly placed since it takes up such prime skin real estate for a bigger piece and I want to redesign it and place it elsewhere), and if possible, I actually plan on tampering with my Markiplier tribute tattoo; I no longer want his logo. Not because I don't like him anymore or have forgotten what his content got me through, but it's just not... relevant to my interests anymore. I would have to talk with tattoo artists to see if it's doable, but I'd actually like to adapt it to JUST a space background and, over time, expand the tattoo over the area more to add people and pets I treasured who have passed away, floating in space looking happy with astronaut helmets. I REALLY want this. It'd finally be a prime place to implement Teddy's dedication tattoo, and certainly I'd add my mom when she passes, probably even Steve Irwin, etc. etc.

Have you ever kissed someone who has previously kissed someone you hated? Yes, Jason.

Do you have any relatives with red hair? I don't think I do. My maternal grandma dyed her hair a reddish color, but it wasn't natural.

What’s your favorite kind of pasta? Just your average spaghetti with normal sauce, and add meatballs.

Have you ever had rabies? Nope.

Do you know anyone who ever had to get a rabies shot? I think so?

Ever eaten deer? Duck? Squirrel? How about lamb? No. I've heard lamb is delicious and I kinda have this urge to try it, but... the idea of eating a literal baby animal fucks with me and I don't think I really want to.

Does your car have heated seats? No, Mom's car is extremely old.

Have you ever been tempted to steal? From my friend as a kid, haha. I was OBSESSED with Dory from Finding Nemo and she managed to get the Dory toy that McDonald's had at some point and I was so envious. Of course I didn't actually take it, though.

Would you rather travel to Ireland or Japan? Ireland.

Does tickling turn you on? It sure doesn't.

What is the age gap between you and your parents? Mom is like two years older.

How many bathrooms does your house have? Is this enough? Two, yes.

Have you ever dated someone who was emotionally or mentally unstable? Yup.

Be honest: are you clingy? Not SEVERELY, but I am. I know how to control clingy urges though, like Girt always says I'm clingy enough for him to feel very loved but also not overwhelmed or like I'm pushing myself on him, he thinks it's a perfect balance.

Have you ever had bronchitis? No, thankfully.

Have you ever had a reptile for a pet? Multiple! My first was Shadow, a Chinese water dragon (I was a kid and they were very improperly cared for, they are not beginner reptiles and I had no idea what I was doing, but they lived the species' full lifespan and was a sweet thing, I hope the sweetheart knows how much I loved them and how differently I'd do things now), and I've also had two snakes in my past: Mona Lisa (died very mysteriously, I was devastated) and Cato, who died VERY quickly because they came to me with some sort of intestinal issue. Don't buy animals from PetSmart. 🙃🙃🙃🙃 Now I've had a champagne ball python morph named Venus for many years, she's my darling. I plan on having MANY more reptiles throughout my life.

Are you afraid of the dentist? I sure am. I never really was until I started to pay for the neglect of my teeth and had painful, scary procedures, plus the extraction of my wisdom teeth without being put to sleep because we couldn't afford it. I had bad problems with not brushing from my depression, simply forgetting, and executive dysfunction, but OH yeah I've learned my lesson and take much better care of them now.

Did you attend Sunday School as a child? I was forced to. Trust me, I wouldn't have gone if I had the choice. I harbor a lot of bitterness about this. I know my mom just wanted the best for me, to be a "saved" child of her god, but I KNOW religion being forced on me played a ginormous role in why I'm so hateful towards its existence, because faith caused me a lot of hell and self-conflict.

Your boyfriend/girlfriend isn’t around but their phone is. Do you look through it? No, because I trust him fully.

Have you ever liked anyone that was in a relationship with someone else? More than once. My first crush had a girlfriend, but they were struggling and he confided in me a lot.

Do you think your last ex ever thinks about you? Oh, I know she does. But not positively. She's an extremely hateful person and how dare I betray her by not keeping her being a Nazi a secret.

Would you rather have salad or french fries for a side dish? If I ever, EVER, order a salad over fries, ask with great concern if I'm okay.

Which one of your relationships was the shortest? With Juan. It didn't even last 24 hours.

Which was the longest? Over three and a half years.

Have any of your exes told you they regret breaking up with you? No.

Are you going to be getting any new pets soon? Not soon. I might be talking my mom into a velvet spider for Christmas, though... I talked about it with her recently, and they're small and OBNOXIOUSLY cute (even though she didn't quite think so lol), but because of their size, harmlessness, and I think especially my passion when talking about it, I think she might FINALLY acquiesce about me getting a pet spider. I will fucking cry if she agrees to it come Christmastime. It's no tarantula, but it's still a spider species I adore.

Do you like BBQ sauce? No, I literally hate it.

What do you like to do when you’re home alone? The same thing I do when Mom's here: I do shit on my computer. The only difference is I rarely listen to stuff without earplugs.

Should the guy always pay for the date? lmao shut the fuck up

Do you like Frozen? I don't hate it, I think people claim to hate it just to say they do, but I don't necessarily like it either. There are much better Disney movies.

Do you use Instagram often? Yes, more than usual as of the late.

What is one question you don’t like being asked? What I do for a job or what I even do in my free time.

Who is someone you know who is talkative? My nephew, haha.

Do you know anyone who plays the violin? Not that I know of.

Out of all your usernames for websites, which one is your favorite? Do you use it for more than one site? Ozzkat. It's what I use for most places.

Have you ever spent the whole day (or multiple days) just looking up one thing on the internet (e.g., videos of your favorite band, how-to videos, quizzes, etc.)? Bro I'm autistic, this is my LIFE

If someone told you that we live in a society that hates women, how would you respond? Absolutely agree.

Which of your breakups was the hardest for you to get over? ANYONE who reads these knows it was Jason.

What did you have for dinner last night? We had breakfast for dinner: eggs, sausage, and biscuits. The sausage was a brand Mom had never gotten before and it was the best I'd ever had, but of COURSE it was a more expensive brand haha, so I doubt that'll be common to have.

Do you write poetry? If so, what kind of poetry do you write? I did, mostly just angsty stuff as I dealt with mental illness. I haven't written a poem in a long time, but I actually do have concepts written down that are much more positive and hopeful.

Have your parents traveled to any countries that you have not been to? No.

What's your favorite type of gemstone? Opals of various sorts. I'm also fond of rubies.

Would you rather take a class in fencing or archery? Archery, by far.

Have you ever had a stalker? No, not to my knowledge. For which I am extremely thankful.

What was the last strong scent you smelled? A dead animal somewhere, I think.

When was the last time you changed your outfit? This evening, when Girt and I got home from Charlotte from him getting the exercise bike Javier was selling. I changed into my pjs.

What was the last thing you took a picture of? The worm snake I found at Ashley's house and showed the kids!

What were the positives and negatives of your last week? Positives are definitely multiple instances where I've really challenged my fears. The most obvious negative is I'm not as happy as I could be with my new psychiatrist; she's not as bad as the last, but still quite rude, EXTREMELY interruptive when I or Mom are talking, and just made me feel like a total fucking idiot.

What is one of your wildest dreams or ambitions? To have a photograph published by National Geographic.

What was the subject of your last phone conversation? My dad called me to talk about fishing plans. I still think fishing for fun and not consumption (re-released fish can easily encounter infection and die) is a mean, selfish thing to do, but... for the sake of bonding with my dad (who I very rarely see) and nephew, I am willing to choke on my morals here and enjoy something I did as a child with my family.

What are your plans for tomorrow? How about the weekend? Big ol' nothing. Today was a long day. It is the weekend.

What did the last jacket you wore look like? It's just a very simple, plain black with a hood. Quite sure the material is cotton.

[southernvampire]

I'm at a loss of what to do. situation in the tags bc I'm on mobile and cant put a read more

[mrsmaybank]

Gas Station Girl - Spencer Reid x Reader - CH 3

Spencer Reid’s first impression of the Reader is mixed. She’s “audacious, promiscuous, clever, and troubled.” and there is so many things Spencer would like to do about it.

CHAPTER ONE HERE

CHAPTER TWO HERE

A/N:I’m writing a Spencer Reid x Reader multific! The series will be intense and 18+. Age gaps, Explicit sexual content (dom/sub dynamics/kinks), angst, family issues, dark themes including: violence, suicide, murder, death, blood, and drug use and addiction. (Chapters will of course have trigger warnings depending on the content) HIGHLY recommend you listen to the playlist as you read! 

A/N2: This chapter is the most wholesome one in the whole series! Other then the kinky smut LMAO. No for real though, this is as fluffy as it gets. Next chapter gets um... well you’ll see! 

TW: Language, Age gap, use of ‘Little Girl’ as pet name, explicit sexual content (light degradation & unprotected sex), mentions of death, smoking weed, mentions of violence

Fic Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4WYosdR6Tz4y9lsmUghoMU?si=ZvyS_2oqSDW95PxULRs2fQ

The seconds of ignorant bliss after opening your eyes for the first time since a night of horrible decisions didn’t last as long for Y/N anymore. Pains and aches serving a reminder of all the apologies that were owed from her. Instant dread and distaste for confrontation swirled in her stomach. Ah but she deserved it all. The night was blurry, but from recollection, it was only Teddy. He’d dropped her off home, she remembered that. From where? Who knows, but it probably didn’t matter. Teddy’s services didn’t really warrant (nor did Teddy want) a heartfelt, apologetic phone call she decided. Instead a simple, “thx” text sufficed.

She stepped out of her room, pleased with the sight of her roommate rolling a joint on the kitchen table. “Good fucking morning.”  she meant it. The weed would ease the sting of the bruises and busted lip.  

“Morning.” Kena said, licking the joint to seal its precious contents. “What the fuck happened to you last night?” making a face of amusement.

The friends bursted out in laughter in unison.

“Got my ass beat.” Y/N started telling the story as Kena lit the j. “Remember ‘Record Shop’ Dude’?”

“Do I remember? You guys fucked for like a week straight. Thought you guys were gonna get married.” 

“Well,” she couldn’t contain her laughter anymore, “Apparently he has a girlfriend. They’ve been together for three years.” 

Kena passed her the joint laughing, “Apparently.” she watched as her friend inhaled the smoke, “I’ll never understand why you don't fight back every time. I’ve seen your left hook, it’s deathly. It’s like you like getting your ass kicked.” 

Y/N finished the joint, putting it out. “Yeah, I get off. Masochist, remember?” she said in a serious tone. Kena understood the satire of her response. 

“What’re your plans tod-” she was cut off by her phone ringing. She saw the unknown number and smiled putting it on speaker for Kena to hear. “I’m fucking broke!” she shouted as Kena laughed. “You can’t scam me! I don’t have any fucking money to steal!” 

The line went silent and they awaited the confused stutter of some telemarketing con artist. And a confused stutter came. 

“Y/N? It’s Spencer.” he paused, “Spencer Reid?” he paused again. Perhaps she’d forgotten him.  “Dr. Spencer Reid?” 

“I know who you are.”  

Kena looked at her friend in confusion, but she was busy replaying the events of the previous night. Spencer had called Teddy, from the parking lot of a shady...her memory stalled, liquor store. 

“Holy fuck I’m such a piece of garbage.” was the only thing her subconscious could render. 

“I am so fucking sorry. Holy shit. Thank you for last night, dear fuck. I’m sorry about that. And for screaming at you! I didn’t have your number saved.” 

Spencer lightly sighed. She remembered. “It’s okay. How are you feeling?” 

“Uh, great.” she stammered, “I’ve woken up a lot worse.” 

Spencer could hear the slight embarrassment in her voice. “Good, good.” he took a deep breath, “Well I was wondering if maybe I could take you out to lunch? We’ve only ever spoken in parking lots.” 

Kena opened her eyes in delight, mouthing “Yes!”

Y/N couldn’t contain her smile, “I’d like that Dr. Reid. Pick me up at three?” 

“Sure little girl. See you soon.” Spencer hung up and Y/N melted. 

Kena screamed, “You’ve been fucking a doctor?!” 

“No.”  she smiled a devilish grin, “But I’m about to.” she sang, practically skipping with joy back to her room. 

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Spencer hadn’t gotten a good look at the complex in the dark, but now he could see it in its full glory. Beer bottles and cigarette buds littered everywhere, sulky characters loitering at practically every corner, and a reek of marijuana. Not his personal idea of home sweet home. 

He watched as the girl he was waiting for exited from apartment 209, looking just as wild as ever. He wondered if the disheveled look was intentional or if she always looked so crazily hot. His eyes continued to follow as she walked down the steps and into his passenger seat. 

“Hi.” she said, eyes wide and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say she was blushing. Y/N didn’t seem like the kind of girl to blush. 

“Hey. You look nice.” he started to pull out of the parking space. 

“You don’t have to say that you know. I don’t look nice. I never look nice.” she sighed, “Truthfully I hate the idea of looking nice.” 

Spencer was amused with her little ramble, “Why?” 

“‘Cause nice is what you look like when you’re going to church. Or brunch. And I don’t do either of those.” she said plainly.

“What’s wrong with brunch?” he questioned smiling.  

“Nothing is wrong with brunch.” she paused for a minute, deciding whether or not to tell him all the atrocious memories she had in connection to brunch. He only asked you about fucking brunch. Don’t reveal all your baggage already. Don’t be a dramatic bitch. Just say your vegan or some bullshi-

“What are you contemplating on telling me?” 

Her mouth gaped playfully. “Fucking cut the profiling! Three minutes in and you’re already doing your weird government shit.” she remarked, teasingly defensively. 

Spencer laughed, “Weird government shit? Really?”

“Yeah.” she pursed her lips, “I said what I said.” 

“It’s psychology, not weird government shit. It’s analyzing body language, and speech patterns and-”

“I get it. You’re fucking smart.” They pulled out to a red light. 

“You’re smart too.” 

“Thanks Doctor.” she smiled, it did make her happy to hear that. “So where are you taking me?” 

“You’ll see.”, and see she did. As they got out of the car, Y/N couldn’t stop smiling. At first it was the way Spencer’s hand found hers, but then it was the sight. The restaurant was placed under the biggest trees she’d ever seen, with ivy hanging just a couple feet over her head. It was illuminated with lanterns and tiny hanging lights and she felt like she was in a fairy tale. It was beautiful. 

“Hey Spencer?” 

“Yes?” he said approaching the hostess, “Table for two, Spencer.” His attention shifted back down at her. “This is the prettiest place a boy has ever taken me.”

He smiled, “Yeah? You like it?” The hostess led them to their table and they sat. “A lot.” she giggled and Spencer swore his heart would explode. The sound was just too adorable. 

“So Y/N, where are you from?”

She was a little surprised at the question, almost like nobody had ever asked. Had she ever been on a date? Like a proper sit down date? 

“New York City, originally. But I uh, moved around a lot as a kid.” 

“Tell me about that.” 

“You really wanna know?” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” he questioned. 

“Okay, fine. I used to live in this beautiful townhouse in Manhattan. I had a pink room with a huge bed and canopy. A gorgeous chandelier, this vanity with all my tiaras, and my dolls! Oh my god, those dolls were so fucking pretty.” he listened intently, relishing in the way her eyes lit up in a way he’d never seen. 

“And then my dad died.” the glint of joy in her eyes was gone. “When I was seven. And we moved to West Virginia, living with my grandmother, until she died!” she let out a small laugh in attempts to keep the mood up. “Then we were living in this mobile park, which wasn’t so bad. Creeps and meth-heads came and went, but overall not a horrible place to grow up. It’s where I met Teddy, you know him.” 

He nodded his head, still listening to every detail of the story. 

“After my mom got remarried, him and I decided we wanted to go to California. This was supposed to just be a pitstop, get our shit together, you know? But we had a falling out, and he went without me. Came back when his brother got cancer. Then after Casey died he came back to D.C, got me to enroll in school with him And uh, now I’m here. I go to Washington Uni, by the way. Major in Journalism.” she ended shyly. 

“I’m sorry about your dad. And your grandma. That’s a story.” 

She nodded her head. “Its okay. Better place, you know?” How about you?” 

“Well, uh, I’m from Las Vegas. It’s been just me and my mom for a while.  My childhood was a little weird, graduated high school when I was twelve, then I-” 

“Hold the fuck up, twelve?” he nodded. “Holy shit. You’re one of those freakishly smart prodigy motherfuckers aren’t you?” 

He laughed, “IQ of 187, not to brag.” 

“Oh fuck you, you’re totally bragging.”

“You got into Washington, you did well in school too.” 

“Yeah uh, despite the shitty childhood school wasn’t really ever an issue. My dad was a Senator, George Y/L/N, in New York. He had a lot of random contacts. When we moved to West Virginia I got to go to some snobby private school ‘cause his friend was a board member. Saint Matilda Preparatory School. Top of my class.” she smiled, “Not to brag.” 

“You’re definitely bragging.” he teased.

Scoffing, she said, “I didn’t drop my IQ number, so you’re still the gloating one here.” 

“I didn’t think you were a high school drop-out.”                                                “Aw Spencer really?” she said sarcastically. 

There waiter came and took their order, but neither of them really cared about the food. They stayed there talking for longer then the restaurant would’ve liked, telling each other their craziest dreams, wildest experiences, bad decisions, and nothing and everything. Before they knew it, the restaurant was kicking them out. They walked back to Spencer’s car, hysterically laughing at the disdained waiter who had to so awkwardly ask them to order something else or leave, Y/N clinging to his arm. 

“Nobody’s ever done something like this for me before.” Y/N said as Spencer got into the drivers seat. 

“What do you mean?” Spencer turned to face her. 

“Picked me up, taken me to a pretty restaurant, paid, opened doors for me.” her eyes locked in his, “Listened to me talk for so long.”

“I could listen to you talk forever.” he grabbed her face and kissed her. The kiss was nothing like he’d expected. It wasn’t an aggressive make-out fired by lust, it was a kiss of passion and dear affection. 

They began to drive in silence. Not uncomfortable Awkward silence, more like enjoying each other's company silence. That is until Y/N did something Spencer should’ve seen coming as this was the same girl he’d met at the gas station. Her hands were inching their way up his leg to his crotch, teasingly slow. She scanned his eyes for some note to stop, but it never came. She palmed him gently through his pants, watching him struggle to keep his eyes on the road, as he twitched under her touch. “Fuck.” he sighed out quietly, “Stop.”

“Take your shoes off, get in the backseat.” he turned off the main road, driving down a more secluded street until he found a tiny spot almost completely hidden by trees.

“Take your clothes off.” he still hadn’t made eye contact with her since telling her she was smart. She did as she was told, taking off her top and shorts as fast as she could. Spencer got out of the driver's seat and got into the back passenger seat, only the middle seat separating them. “Come here.” obeying, she did. In only a bra and underwear, she crawled into Spencer's fully clothed lap, as he grabbed her face and kissed her. Her barely let her move, wanting to be able to explore her mouth freely, She gasped for air, whispering a small “Oh fuck.”

He tightly gripped her jaw, toying with her bottom lip as he spoke, “You have such a dirty mouth.”

She smiled more poisonously then he’d ever seen, it was mischievous and seductive, and it made him crazy. “What’re you gonna do about it sir?”

Now it was him smiling as the small girl looked up at him with big eyes, “So many things.” He started to kiss her again, this time his hands going down to tease her clothed clit. She moaned into the kiss and rocked her hips down harder into his hand. “Please?” she moaned again.

He moved her panties to the side, sliding a finger through her wetness, “You need something don’t you?” She nodded her head.

“Well, use your words.”

“Touch me.” she got closer in his ear, “Please.”

“What’s with the niceties little girl? You don’t want to be touched, no, Good girls like to be touched. You, you are a desperate little slut, hm?” His fingers dipped into her with no warning, curling immediately, “You want to be destroyed.”

Her hips bucked almost instantly as she cried out, “Yes. I do.”

“Beg for it.”

“Sir,” she opened her eyes to lock with his, “Please.” Spencer continued to curl his fingers while still rubbing her clit, and her moans and breathes got sloppier and louder.

“Please!” she whined. “Please sir.” He couldn’t contain a small laugh, “No.”  

“This is a bit pathetic even for you, no? You’re here naked in my lap begging for me to let you come.” She nodded her head. “Oh but I’m sure you’ve done worse haven’t you love?” She shook her head. As badly as he wanted to lecture her about lying, he could feel her tighten on his fingers. “Can..” she stuttered in between moans, “Can I? Please let me come?”

“Awe, good girl asking for permission.” he pulled his fingers out, “No.”

He slipped his fingers in her mouth and watched as she sucked them off. “Figures you’d be good at that.” he unbuckled his belt, pushing his pants and lied back so the door supported his back. “Come sit on it.”

Her eyes opened in delight as she crawled over and did as she was told. He watched in awe as she sunk herself down onto him, clenching as their thighs met. He let her think she had some control, eyes never leaving her as she bounced and moaned. “You’re such a good girl baby.” He could see her teetering right above the edge, and seeing as he was so close as well, he gave in. “Come for me.” and with that, she did. Practically screaming as he fucked up into her through her orgasm, pulling out and finishing himself.

He hugged her into his chest, whispering small praises and delivering soft kisses to her sweaty forehead. She made small circles with her nails on his arms, “I fucked a doctor!” She giggled. 

Spencer broke out into laughter, “I fucked YOU.” 

“We fucked each other.” They laid there for a moment, Y/N practically melting to the feeling of being in his arms. It was too comforting.  

Eventually, Spencer began driving back to her apartment, loving every moment of her outlandish singing and dancing in his passenger seat until he parked to drop her off. 

“You’re a very special girl.” Spencer said as she smiled.

She took a deep breath, “Spencer, I fucking like you. A lot. I can’t remember the last time I had a good time like this that I wasn’t fucking high or drunk or both.” she continued to ramble, “And I guess what I’m just trying to convey is-” 

She was cut off by Spencer crashing his lips to hers. “I know what you mean.”  

She smiled and gave him one last peck on the lips, “I hope I’ll see you soon Dr.” 

“You will.”

As she walked back up the stairs to her apartment, Y/N only had one thought. How am I gonna manage to fuck this up? 

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Taglist (Comment to be added!):  @generaltheoristexpert @psych0crybaby @areallyusellesblog @arctic-duchess

@chevyimpala00067 @georgia4287 @purpleraindrops @drreidshands @must-be-a-weasley-92 @gabbie-is-sad @willowafsi

[starryknight09]

Cops eat muffins?

Febuwhump Day 3: imprisonment

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

“What’s your parents number kid?”

“Isn’t it supposed to be, ‘you get one phone call?’” Peter asked, using sarcasm to mask his nerves, something he’d picked up from Tony.

“Yeah in the movies.” The cop grunted out, not amused.  Odd.  He almost reminded Peter of Happy.  “Now stop playing around.  Tell me the number.  I don’t have all night.”

“Um…” Peter tried to think quickly.  He really didn’t want to call Tony, his guardian ever since the snap had been reversed six months ago and Peter had found out May had died of cancer in the intervening five years.  Typical Parker luck.  Because as far as Tony knew, he was staying at Ned’s for a quiet night of putting together Legos, not going to some rager in Midtown.  Although to be fair, Peter hadn’t known Flash’s party would get quite so crazy.  Or busted by the cops.

He could call Pepper, but there’s no way Tony wouldn’t find out.  And she’d still have to drive all the way into the city at one in the morning.  He couldn’t call Ned’s parents because he hadn’t seen Ned anywhere around the police station, and Peter knew he’d been up in the bathroom when the party had gotten busted, so it seemed like he’d somehow escaped, and Peter didn’t want to be the one to bust him.  Plus, he was pretty sure Ned’s mom would totally tell on him to Tony.  It was too bad he’d been standing right by the front door when the cops had burst.  Anywhere else and he for sure would’ve gotten away.

“Well?” The cop prodded impatiently.

Who else was there?  Who else?  Who else?  Just when he’d given up and resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to give them Tony’s number, a genius thought struck him.

“It’s 555-6437.” He answered.

The cop picked up the phone at his desk and Peter fidgeted as he waited in the chair across from him, the place he’d been dumped ever since he’d blown a zero on the breathalyzer test.  Thank god for his fast metabolism.  Any other teenager would’ve failed after drinking three beers.

“And who am I talking to?” The cop asked as he dialed the number.

“Oh um Hap— uh Harold Hogan.”

“Your dad?” The man raised an eyebrow.

Peter nodded.  Sure, why not?  Happy better come through for him.  He owed him after he’d forgotten to pick him after school last week and left him sitting there for hours.  Peter had covered for him and told Tony he’d gone to Ned’s house to work on a project and forgot to let him know.

“Different last name.” The cop stated, but Peter recognized the implicit question.

“I’m adopted.” He answered.  That was actually true.

“Hm.  No answer.” The cop said as he pushed the button to hang up the phone before dialing again.

Shit.  If Happy didn’t answer Peter really was going to have to come clean with Tony’s number.

After another few seconds of ringing, the cop’s eyebrows rose and a bemused expression crossed his face before he said into the phone, “Well I’m sorry to disturb you Mr. Hogan but I’m Patrick McAllister, a cop at the 33rd precinct, and I have your son here, a Mr. Peter Parker.  He gave me your number to call.”

Peter winced.  He could only imagine what was going through Happy’s mind right now.

“No he’s fine.  He was at an underage party where alcohol was being served, so we brought him in, but it doesn’t appear that he was drinking so I just need you to come pick him up.”

The cop paused to listen to whatever Happy was saying.  Peter knew if he concentrated hard enough he could probably listen in but he didn’t really want to know.

“Yes, the address is…”

Peter stared at his shoes as the cop told Happy where to pick him up.  At least that meant the man was coming and maybe he could salvage this without Tony finding out.

“Your dad’s on his way.” The cop said as he hung up the phone.  “Said he should be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Great.” Peter said without enthusiasm.  “So...are you going to put me in my cell now?”

The cop barked out a surprised laugh.

“What?” Peter asked, annoyed.

“Why would I put you in a cell?” The man asked, looking like he was working to hold back more laughter. Really, Peter didn’t think the question was that funny.

“Because I’m arrested.  I’m being imprisoned against my will.  Don’t you usually put people behind bars for that?” Peter explained dryly.

The cop burst out laughing.

Peter frowned.

“Man, you watch too much TV kid.” He said a moment later as he wiped at the tears in his eyes.

Peter crossed his arms, feeling defensive.  No one liked being laughed at, and he, in particular, never liked being treated like an idiot.

“Did I take your fingerprints?” The cop asked.

“No.”

“Your mugshot?”

Peter shook his head.

“Then why do you think you’re arrested?”

Peter blinked.  “Because I’m…here?”

The cop smirked.  “Did you break any laws?”

“I was at the party…”

“True but that’s not against the law.  You weren’t drinking and you weren’t providing alcohol to minors.”

Peter frowned.  That first part wasn’t exactly true but he wasn’t about to admit that.  “So if I’m not arrested, why can’t I just leave?”

“It’s against policy.  Can’t release minors without a legal guardian.”

Peter’s jaw dropped.  “So I’m going to get in trouble for nothing?”

“Tough break kid.” The cop shrugged, but Peter could see the glint of amusement in his eyes.  He was clearly loving this.  Well, at least someone was having a good night.

The cop seemed to sense his stormy mood.  He picked up the open cardboard box on his desk and held it out.  “Want a muffin?”

Peter eyed the assortment of chocolate, blueberry, and lemon poppyseed muffins.  They did look good.  

“Aren’t you supposed to be eating donuts?” He teased.

“Watch it kid.” The cop said without any bite.

Peter reached in to grab a chocolate muffin before the man could change his mind.  “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Hey Pat,” Another cop said as he walked over to them twenty minutes and two muffins later.  “The kid’s dad’s here.”

“Thanks Earl.” Pat answered and stood, gesturing for Peter to do the same.  “Let’s get you home.”

They turned the corner around the hallway and Peter caught sight of Happy, standing in the lobby in black sweatpants and a grey sweatshirt.  Peter didn’t think he’d ever seen the man out of a suit.

A second later Happy noticed them and frowned.

“Hey…um Dad.” He practically choked on the words.

Happy just harumphed and looked up at Pat.  “He’s good to go?”

“Yeah.  All set.  He technically didn’t break any laws, but we can’t release minors without a legal guardian.” Pat explained.

Happy nodded and gripped his shoulder.  “All right kid, let’s go.”

“Go easy on him.” Pat called out to them as they reached the door.  “He’s a good kid.”

Happy snorted as he held the door open for him.  As soon as it closed, the man shook his head and said, “Even police officers aren’t immune to the Peter Parker charm huh?”

Peter grinned.  With a comment like that, it didn’t seem like Happy was mad.

“Thanks for picking me up in the middle of the night.” He said as they walked into the parking lot toward Happy’s car.

“What was I supposed to do?  Make you spend the night in jail?” Happy asked gruffly, but Peter knew he cared.

“Technically I wasn’t in jail.”

“Looked like you were in jail to me.” Happy muttered.

“Nope.”

“What do you call what you were doing then?”

“Hanging out at a police station?” Peter tried.

Happy rolled his eyes as he thumbed the unlock button to the car on the key fob.  “Sure kid.”

“It wasn’t so bad.” He shrugged.  “Pat gave me muffins.”

“Only you.” Happy complained as he opened the passenger side door for him and Peter crawled in.

As soon as Happy turned the car on, Peter started toying with the radio dial even though he knew it drove Happy nuts.  He couldn’t handle the man’s taste in music.  He settled on an 80’s rock station as they pulled out of the parking lot.

“You seem in good spirits.” Happy noted.

“Yeah.” He shrugged.  He was.  He’d made it out unscathed.  “If you drop me off at Ned’s house I can just climb up to his window and we’ll be all good.  He lives on 59th and Fullerton.”

“That’s cute.”

“What?”

“That you think I’m going to drop you off at your friend’s house.” Happy huffed out a laugh.

Peter frowned.

“You’re staying in my guest room tonight.” Happy explained as if he was crazy for thinking otherwise.

Peter figured that could work.  He’d just have to make it to Ned’s by tomorrow morning so Tony could pick him up there.

Happy glanced at him and his brow furrowed as if he couldn’t comprehend his continued zen.  “And in the morning Tony’s picking you up.” Happy added.

Peter’s head snapped over to Happy.  “What?  He knows?” He asked, his eyes bugging out.

“Of course he knows.  I called him as soon as I got off the phone with that cop.”

“Why?” He complained in a long whine.

“What do you mean why?” Happy looked at him like he was crazy.  “You got arrested—”

“I wasn’t arrested.”

“—and then you call me and you think—”

“I didn’t call you, Pat did.”

“—that I’m not going to tell Tony, your legal guardian, not to mention my best friend, and the guy who signs my paychecks, that I just had to pick his kid up from jail?”

When he said it that way it did sound kind of bad.

“I was thinking that you owed me for not throwing you under the bus last week and you’d be cool about this.” Peter explained.

Happy raised an eyebrow at him.  “Yeah I owe you dinner or concert tickets or something, not a get out of jail free card.”

“You have no chill man.” Peter groaned.

A second later his phone started ringing.  He pulled it out of his pocket, thinking it was Ned trying to figure out where he’d ended up.

“Shit.” He swore when he saw Tony’s name on the caller ID.

“If I were you, I’d answer that.” Happy suggested.

“I’m going to remember this.” He said, like a threat, to Happy.

“I’m sure you will.” Happy said with an amused smile.

Peter glared at him as he thumbed the accept call button.  “Hello?” He answered nervously.

Maybe it’d be ok.  Maybe Tony would be cool about this.  Peter knew he was no saint.  He’d gotten arrested a bunch when he was younger.  Maybe he’d understand.

“Peter!” Tony yelled.

Maybe not.

[rosesgonerogue]

Just a Friend

Daminette December Day 1

It wasn’t often that Damian had to deal with the Agreste child, but with both their fathers being such big names, it was inevitable. Agreste was preferable to the Bourgeois brat, but he still reeked of a sheltered life. And now Damian was going to have to put up with him for the next several days while Father discussed business with the elder Agreste. 

“Remind me why Drake couldn’t come instead?” Damian demanded once again. 

“You know the reason,” Bruce sighed. “I was specifically asked to come with one of my sons. But if I come, Tim had to stay behind to keep the company running.” 

“Grayson?”

“He’s standing in as Batman.” 

“Why couldn’t Todd do that? Or come here?” 

Bruce fixed him with a flat stare. “We would either have a slew of corpses, or an international incident on our hands.” 

Damian growled, knowing that his father was right. That didn’t mean that he liked this cursed city. 

They came to the Agreste mansion all too soon, and Damian already dreaded the awkward conversations that awaited. It had been a few years since he’d been forced to associate with the boy, and Damian could only hope he was somehow less sheltered.

The mansion was more ostentatious than ever. It had a way of looming over people that felt cold. He never would have admitted it, but he almost wished his brothers were here to cause chaos and bring some life into the dead house.

To complete the aura, the door was opened by Agreste’s stoic assistant, the one with glasses and a harsh bun. Gabriel was standing staunchly inside with Adrien at his side, green eyes dull.

“Thank you for travelling all this way, Bruce,” Gabriel said in perfect English. “We welcome you and your son.”

“It was our pleasure,” Bruce said with a cordial smile. “Damian was curious why you wanted one of my sons to come, though.”

“We’ve found a rather interesting young designer, and if things work out in our deals, we were hoping your son might consider modelling her designs, potentially taking the brand over to America.”

Translation: Gabriel thought his son was too good for this, so Damian was stuck modelling for an amateur.

Bruce’s smile tightened ever so slightly, knowing that this would be a hard sell to Damian. “We’ll see how these negotiations go first.”

“Very well. Adrien, why don’t you entertain young Damian in your room?”

Damian bristled at being dismissed in such a manner, but before he could do anything, Adrien actually spoke up.

“Actually, Father, I was wondering if I could show Damian around Paris, maybe introduce him to a friend or two?”

Wow, the boy had a backbone now, as well as friends. Interesting. His friends were probably just as rich and sheltered as Agreste, but maybe they would distract one another until they forgot about Damian entirely. One could hope, anyway.

At least Agreste had a seemingly competent bodyguard, Damian noted as he followed the blond out to the shiny car. The whole way Adrian yammered on about his friends, but in particular some girl named Marinette. With all the praise he was giving her, it was a wonder that this Marinette hadn’t cured cancer yet.

Adrien paused in his praises of her long enough that, despite himself, Damian found himself asking, “Is this Marinette your girlfriend? You certainly have plenty to say about her.”

The boy laughed. “Oh no, Marinette if just a friend, my first friend, really. You’ll love her, just wait.”

“Tt.” Damian couldn’t help the noise of disbelief as he gazed out the car window. He was expecting and dreading being taken to some tourist attraction, but it appeared that they had arrived at… a bakery?

“Marinette is actually the designer you might be working with. She’s amazing, and this is her family’s bakery.”

Ah, Agreste was likely trying to sell the virtues of the girl so Damian would look more kindly on whatever shoddy designs the girl had come up with. It was a more underhanded tactic than he thought Agreste capable of, and kind of impressive.

The bakery was small, but clearly good quality. Damian had to admit that the food appeared to be comparable with Pennyworth’s cooking. At the counter, they were greeted by a petite Asian woman.

“Oh, Adrien, it’s nice to see you again. Are you and your friend here to see Marinette? She warned us you two might be coming. She’s in her room, you know the way up.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Cheng. We’ll head up there now,” Adrien said, leading Damien deeper into the bakery. Before they made it to the hallway, however, they were intercepted by a hulking bear of a man.

Damian tensed -- he was even carrying a weapon, one of those wooden paddle things that were used to get things out of traditional ovens. This man would be formidable because of his size alone, but--

“It’s nice to see more of Marinette’s friends here. Take this up with you,” he said, setting the paddle down to hand Adrien an entire quiche. “You boys are welcome to have some as well, but make sure Marinette eats a slice. She got a commission, and we’re not sure when she last ate or slept.”

Damian sighed as he accepted a pile of plates and forks. So, she was obsessive like Time as well. This girl already sounded exhausting, but breakfast had been a while ago, and the quiche smelled amazing.

Agreste led them through the bakery and up the stairs as Damian attempted to mentally reconcile what could have resulted in the union of the slight Asian woman and the hulking baker. What he expected, however, was not at all what he got.

“We’re here with food, Marinette,” Adrien called as he stepped into the room.

“I’ll eat in a minute, Mom, I just need to finish this applique,” the girl mumbled. She wasn’t visible yet, hidden behind a massive ball gown.

“Marinette, you have a guest,” Adrien said gently.

“Yes, papa, I’m getting plenty of sleep,” she mumbled.

The dress the girl was working on was quite possibly the most intricate thing Damian had ever seen. The dress appeared to be scarlet silk, the skirt resting on layer upon layer of tulle and crinoline, The body of the dress was patterned with hand-appliqued black lace. Normally the color combination would have been garish, but it was vaguely reminiscent of a ladybug, and definitely worthy of the red carpet.

Suddenly Damian was filled with the need to know more about this girl. He heard her humming to herself before making a noise of satisfaction. “There, I’m officially done, now what did you--”

The girl cut off when she peeked from around the gown, eyes wide as she squeaked, “Adrien, what are you doing here? And who is that?”

He had never had such an absurdly intense reaction before to merely seeing someone’s face and hearing their voice. Her eyes were wide in shock, and they were the bluest eyes Damian had ever seen, complimenting her blue-black hair that looked unbelievably soft. As he contemplated taking that hair out of its pigtails and -- holy infatuation, Batman, Damian was beginning to sound like Grayson. Besides, this girl looked more like a Wayne than Damian himself did.

“Marinette, meet Damian Wayne, one of your potential models,” Adrien said in English, most likely for Damian’s benefit.

“That was today!” the girl exclaimed, in adorably accented English as she scrambled to get off of the ground where she had been kneeling to finish the dress. “I’m so sorry, I got so wrapped up in this commission and lost track of time. I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng, it’s nice to meet you, Damian.” She finally emerged from behind the dress and held out a hand. It was warm and unexpectedly calloused, but tiny, just like her. She was almost pixie-like, obviously taking more after her mother  than her father.

“It’s a pleasure,” Damian said, shaking her hand longer than was strictly necessary. “This dress is truly a work of art.”

“Oh, you speak French!” Marinette said delightedly. Honestly, he hadn’t noticed he’d switched languages. “My English is okay, but your French sounds amazing!”

“Well clearly your sewing ability surpasses almost anything I’ve ever seen before. Now I can’t wait to see what your fashion line has to offer.” Why was he saying this? Why was Damian smiling in an imitation of Grayson whenever he was near a female?

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Marinette said, ducking her head to hide her slight blush. “But if you’re going to be my model then I’m going to have to tailor a lot of things to you, so you’re going to have to put up with me for a while.”

“I think I can handle that.”

As Marinette stammered a reply, Adrien awkwardly stood to the side, still holding the quiche. Had… Had Marinette forgotten him? Marinette never forgot him! He was always oddly the center of attention when Marinette was around because they were such good friends! Adrien felt slightly unsettled. He had hoped that Marinette would soften Damian, but he didn’t expect him to smile at her like that.

Throughout the rest of their stay in Paris, Damian found any and every excuse to spend any moment with Marinette. Bruce was curious and slightly suspicious about this turn of events. He expected this kind of thing from Dick, but it was entirely baffling from Damian.

One night when Damian had been out particularly late with Marinette, Bruce decided to wait up. He heard the door opening followed by Damian murmuring lowly in French, and… was that a chuckle? Yes, his son was softly laughing into his phone. The slight smile dropped off of the boy’s face when he met Bruce’s eyes and he murmured, “I’ll talk to you later, Angel.”

Raising an eyebrow, Bruce asked, “Angel?”

He regretted the way Damian instantly snapped into his rigid, emotionless persona. “Is something wrong, Father?”

Bruce was quick to say, “You’re not in trouble, Damian. I’m just worried, you’ve never been in a relationship before, and this all seems--”

“You’re mistaken, Father,” Damian interrupted. “Marinette and I are just friends.”

Bruce nodded and was going to leave the subject there before a small smirk crawled across the boy’s face. “For now, at least.”

Hi! I’m kind of new to this community, but you can call me Rose! Or Rogue, whichever you prefer! I found this pairing just a while ago, and when I saw the prompts for Daminette December, I got so freaking excited! I don’t do a lot of romance writing, so this is kind of an experiment. I want to get better at it, so please, let me know how I’m doing! Unfortunately, not all of the prompts will be this long, I’ve got finals coming up. I’ll try to keep up posting daily, though! 

Taglist: 

@ozmav @daminette-december2019 @maribat-archive

[imagining-supernatural]

The Backstory

Part 15 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary: You and Sebastian sit down and you finally tell him about your past

Word Count: 1,757

HGTV was playing in the background, but neither you nor Seb were paying attention. You were curled together in the recliner with a heavy blanket over your legs. He still had a few hours before he had to head out to his interview with Jimmy Fallon, so this was the best time to tell him about your past. Enough time that he could process everything and not be too burdened during his interview, but not enough time that the two of you would drag out every damn detail. There were parts that you wouldn’t tell him, but most of it, you wanted him to know.

You just had to figure out how to start.

“You grew up in Wyoming, right?” He prompted, as if sensing that you were stuck before you had even begun.

“Yeah.” You sighed heavily, shoring up your courage. “It was just me, my sister, and my parents. If I have any cousins or aunts, I don’t know about them. My, uh, my dad was… you know what? I’m just gonna say everything really quick to get it all out there. I think that’ll be easier.”

He nodded, rubbing his hand along your spine. You tucked your head into his neck, hoping that the lack of eye contact would make it even easier.

“Alright. Ever since I can remember, my dad has been an alcoholic. Abusive too, but I didn’t realize until later. He took out most of it on my mom and sister, since she was older. But then, uh, my sister, Eliza, moved out when she turned sixteen and it was just me and my mom.”

“How old were you?” he asked in a pained whisper.

“Eight. She’s eight years older than me. He died when our house caught fire when I was sixteen. Cigarette left burning. His fault.” Your voice broke on the last two words, but you powered through. “Luckily mom was in lockup for the night for drunk and disorderly or something and I was staying with Jaz. That was… it’s fucked up to say, but that was the best day of my life.”

His hand moved up your back and settled on the back of your head, holding you closer. That simple action drew a wave of tears to your eyes that had you blinking quickly, trying to hold them back. God, you didn’t deserve him.

Remembering the truth of that day… you really didn’t deserve him.

“Um, so that left me and my mom. She… She was an alcoholic too, but more of a neglectful alcoholic. Thank god for Jasmin and her family. I don’t know what I would have done without them. They kept me alive and sane until I was old enough to get a job and basically support myself a few months after my dad died. I thought it was over, then. Up until then, my family was just that trash family that other people in town gossiped about to feel better about themselves. I got some pitying looks, and that was it.

“Then my sister went and got arrested. Everyone expected me to take in her two sons when she was convicted and sentenced to life in prison.”

“What did she do?”

A bitter laugh escaped your throat. “Fucking murdered her boyfriend. Abused her kids. Assaulted a police officer. She… she didn’t have a friend like Jaz. Or a support system like Jaz’s family. But that’s still no excuse. None at all. They’re her kids. She knew what it was like to grow up being a punching bag. She…” In an effort to control your budding anger, you took a deep breath and turned your face into Seb’s neck for a second, letting his familiar scent calm you.

“So when she was sentenced to twenty-five to life, the entire town assumed I would adopt the kids. I mean, they were my nephews and all, but everyone was acting like it was my responsibility to raise them. But… But I was barely eighteen. I couldn’t even take care of myself and I didn’t want to put them in a position where I—where I might snap like she did. It wasn’t fair to them. And they were young enough that they were adopted fairly quickly and now they’re with some family down in Georgia growing up with cute little Southern accents. Their parents send me letters sometimes. Pictures too. The boys are happy. And I know I made the right decision, but if you listen to what everyone else said, then you’d start thinking I was a selfish bitch who didn’t respect family values as if they’d all forgotten the kind of values my family taught me. I-I-I know I made the right choice. They’re happy. So fuck what everyone else thought.”

“People make far too many judgments based on far too few facts,” Sebastian whispered against your hair.

“And far too many assumptions,” you mumbled.

He held you in silence for a few minutes, just stroking your hair.

“You know what the worst thing someone said to me was?” You asked a bit later, after your heartbeat had calmed down from its angry beating. “When word got out that I had cancer, someone from my hometown told me that God gave me cancer as punishment for not adopting my nephews. For thinking someone else could raise them better than their own blood. Years later and they still couldn’t let it go.”

Not that they were entirely wrong. Your cancer might have been punishment from God, but not because you didn’t adopt your nephews. There were far worse things you’d done.

“That’s—” He couldn’t even find a word to describe how that made him felt. And you completely understood.

“Rude? Horribly offensive? Fucking ignorant? Welcome to small town Wyoming where the bible rules and if you say you’ve never shot a gun you’ll be shunned until you do.”

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetie, that’s… God that’s horrible.”

“People suck,” you said simply. “I just… I wanted you to know. You know, in case this shit hits the news or whatever. And also… Also, I just wanted you to know. I wanted to tell you. Regardless.”

He slid his hand to your chin and tilted your head up until you were falling into his blue eyes. “Thank you, Y/N. Thank for telling me; trusting me.”

“Thank you for being someone who doesn’t suck,” you responded in a weak effort to lighten the mood.

You only had a second to register his soft smile before he leaned forward and brushed his lips against your cheek. “I always knew you were strong. I mean, to go through cancer treatment like this… but now?” His thumb rubbed against your cheek, nearly touching your lips. Your eyes closed at his touch, face leaning into his palm. “Sweetheart, I think you’re the strongest person I think I’ve ever met.”

Just as you were about to argue his statement, he leaned forward again. This time his lips brushed just at the corner of your mouth and lingered, wiping away every single word you’d ever known. He finally pulled away a hairsbreadth and the air between you two was super-charged. All it would take was a tilt of your head and you’d be kissing him properly.

But you couldn’t do it. You just couldn’t.

After a moment more, he drew back, pausing only to press his lips to your forehead briefly. “So, your sister and mom are still alive?”

“No.” Your voice was surprisingly strong. Barely wavering. “My sister’s still in prison, but my mom died a few months after I turned sixteen. Another reason the town seems to hate me. They think if I’d stuck around more, she wouldn’t have killed herself but that wasn’t my job. I was a kid. It wasn’t my job to keep my parent alive.”

“Killed herself?”

“Drunk herself to death, I guess.” It was an explanation you’d said many times before. One that wasn’t entirely accurate, but the closest to the truth you could get. “Suicide wasn’t the official cause of death, but I knew. She drunk too much. I think she was shooting up with something, too. They called it an accidental overdose. Said if I’d been there, I might have been able to call 911 and save her. But they didn’t know us. They didn’t know what happened in that house. I… I don’t blame her. She didn’t want to be saved. She let him break her. My sister became him.”

“And you? What do you think you did?”

“I think… I think… I don’t know. I made a lot of bad decisions in college, but that’s just college. I think I would have turned out differently if I hadn’t spent so much time with Jaz’s family. But even then… I don’t know, Seb. I just know that I never wanted to make anyone feel like I did. It took me my entire college career with campus therapists to work through shit. And there’s some things I haven’t told anyone. And I’m going to be working through everything for the rest of my life. I know that. I think I just became more aware. Aware what kind of affect my words might have on someone else. I’m cautious about everything. Maybe that’s why I went into data security. I didn’t have anyone, really, to protect me.” By this point you’d practically forgotten you weren’t alone. You were just musing aloud. Putting together parts of your therapy sessions with your own emotions.

It was something you’d never done.

Even in therapy, you hadn’t opened up all the way.

But here? With someone you’d met a month ago?

Here, you felt safe. Loved, even.

“What about Jasmin?”

“She tried. But her family was amazing. She just couldn’t understand my family. She was always sympathetic, but never really knew how to help. And, honestly, I wouldn’t ever want her to know how to help. I never want her to be in the position to understand.”

“I guess I get that.”

“’Sides, this way I had her to pull me out. She pushed me to move on. Helped me figure out how to… not become them.”

Silence, once again, fell. Even telling the barest bones of your past had exhausted you and you couldn’t move from Seb’s lap even if you wanted to.

It was nearly a half hour later when he spoke in a soft voice, his words drawing a soft laugh from you. “At least I don’t have to go through the meet the parents shtick.”

Think that’s all of it? The worst of it? 

CHAPTER 16: THE FIRST PAPARAZZI AMBUSH

[thegayagenda-forkids]

Why Cami is important, and why we need more of her types of characters.

While everyone is watching the Cartero/Tennis Boyfriends storyline, as well as Elena’s story and Gabi’s story, I want to talk about the only openly gay character at the moment (Episode 7/8), Camilla, but to really get to talk about her, I have to dive a little bit into the history of gay characters in comedies.*

**I’m only including gay characters in comedies because otherwise my list would be too long to be able to dive into, and this post is going to be mostly about Cami.

So, the first openly gay character to appear on American TV is Steve, played by Phillip Carey in 1971 on “All in the Family.” He appeared for only one episode, but he opened the door back when being gay was taboo, and wrong, and he wasn’t killed onscreen or beaten up. In fact, he was played straight, in a way. Throughout the episode, the main character is speculating about several other men being gay, while Steve was described by that character to be “a real man’s man.” It’s at the end of the episode where Steve comes out to him, dismisses the rumors about the other men the main character suspected, and then he was never seen on TV again. And his appearance is so important because it challenged stereotypes of what gay men on TV were, and where it was appropriate to see these topics. He opened the door for more gay characters to show up.

However, it was a bit of a double-edged sword because for the next several years, the gay characters we saw were “very special episode” characters, approached the same way these characters would approach cancer, or drugs, or addiction. They were a sensitive topic people need to know about, the episode will be less funny to show the full gravity of the situation. But, gay people were seen on TV.

Slowly, people start accepting that gay people exist, and while they might not wish direct harm on them, the general attitude was still very anti-LGBT rights. So gay characters shifted on tv and they were no longer sensitive topics to approach, but a minor/recurring character who was overwhelmingly male, flamboyant, stereotyped to hell, and typically, the “Gay Best Friend.”

The true turning point, in my opinion, was Ellen DeGeneres on “Ellen.” She was the main character of her show, personally in the process of finding herself and coming out, and then deciding to have the character she played come out in a serious, but relatively humorous way. There was backlash, her show didn’t last much longer after that, and overall, she took a huge risk. But she started the first step of the process: character first, sexuality second. She wasn’t defined for being gay like every other person, with potentially the exception of Steve, was up to this point.

But Steve and Ellen served different purposes. Steve de-stigmatized the idea of gay people appearing on TV by only revealing he was gay at the end. He only appeared for one episode, let everyone see how throughout the episode, he was the opposite of gay men they built up in their mind, and then only let the hammer drop right before vanishing forever. Ellen went through four years of people getting to know her, she was the principal main character, and then she came out after. Steve allowed gay people to be shown more on TV, Ellen allowed us to get to know them.

Then around that time, let me just say this: “Friends” was pretty problematic with several issues like the character of Ross and how Chandler’s birth parent transitioning, but there was one thing that was pretty well handled and relatively holds up, and that’s Carol and Susan. Now, by no means was their portrayal and representation perfect, and Ross frequently made jokes revolving around the fact that his ex-wife was a lesbian, but they were never jokes about Carol being wrong or weird, but rather self-deprecating ones, and then the show went on to show them raising and co-parenting a young boy with Ross and they even had the first lesbian wedding on TV, and, at least in my memory, they were never sexualized, meaning that they weren’t created to be objects of mens’ desires, they were simply in love and trying to lead fulfilling lives with each other.

And now we go from the sidelines all the way front and center with the original airing (not the reboot) of “Will and Grace.” The main character was an openly gay man living with a straight woman, who had a gay and an ambiguous, but potentially, bisexual best friends (Jack and Karen). And boy, was this show the first of it’s kind. Will wasn’t portrayed as flamboyant and taking on a stereotypical job, but rather the respected position as a lawyer, owning a nice apartment, and him being gay was only used as a fact while he dated men throughout the show. People at the time earnestly believed Will and Grace would get together in the end by how un-stereotypical and “not gay” Will acted.

But acting as his foil was Jack, perhaps the most flamboyant character to ever grace TV screens. He was loud, overly dramatic, cared too much about his appearance, and his goal was to be an actor. And he wasn’t automatically Will’s boyfriend because he was also gay. He was Will’s closest friend, a confidant, and though he could be an asshole, Jack was true to himself, even if his true self was every gay stereotype shoved into one body while Will got to break those stereotypes by being a well developed and well rounded character.

From there, Gay characters are a mixed bag. Normally in tv shows marketed for people 16 and up, not for children, and typically as side characters. We get our Kurt Hummels, our Mitch and Cams, our Oscar Martinezes, and all these others. They’re occasionally the main character in a cast, most of the time the side characters, and they’re varied. They’re also more visible, and they’re popping up more and more. Now, I’m not even going to get into Brooklyn Nine-Nine in terms of Queer representation because I could go on for days about how they’ve got it, and go into the similar media and target audience.

I’m, of course, talking about “Good Luck Charlie.”

Now I know, I KNOW! It was one episode where there were two moms that showed up for a play date. But it was one of the first kids’ shows to show a gay couple, and by kids, I mean that it’s marketed for people under 16 as well. And it was also pretty well addressed. The parents are wondering how to separate the couple in order to hang out while their toddlers played at the same time as arguing over who was the child’s mother since they each only met one. And when they open the door to Cheryl and Susan, they greet them normally and the only acknowledgment that comes is the father hitting his head like he had forgotten a word and saying “Taylor has two moms,” simply settling the argument about who was Taylor’s mom. And the rest of the episode was just about the parents trying to make friends but being annoying people until Susan and Cheryl fake headaches to leave. The episode treated them not as a “Gay Couple,” but rather a couple who happened to be gay. Not even Modern Family 10 years after the pilot can act like that.

And I KNOW you guys are waiting for it: Cyrus Goodman and Thelonious Jagger Kippen. I bet if I were to take a poll right now of who’s Disney’s first openly gay character, at least 90% of people would say it’s Cyrus Goodman. He was developed as his own person first; this adorable, quirky boy who loved his two best friends more than anything and would get over-enthusiastic for anything they did or he decided to pursue, and he went through panic, then he came out to Buffy. It’s also impressive that for Disney’s first gay main character, they didn’t have him already self-assured that he’s gay, but rather figuring it out and terrified when he came out to Buffy. He was afraid of what she’d think of him, what she’d say, and how their friendship would continue, which I touch more on *here.* At the same time, T.J. is also developed from a bully and antagonist to one of Cyrus’s newest, closest friends. He faces homophobic microaggresions while developing feelings towards Cyrus until he finally finds the courage to confess and start something new at the last episode. The fact that T.J. didn’t come out as gay until the last episode does not diminish his worth as a gay character. He was groundbreaking too because he is the first gay love interest in a Disney Show (and I mean mutual, because otherwise, that title would go to Jonah Beck and I’m not sure he can be counted as canon anything).

And now everyone is focusing on Bobby and Liam on “Diary of a Future President,” which is what the writers are shooting for, but we cannot forget about Cami! She is a form of casual representation that we need more of in writing. There was no marketing for her by Disney as a gay character, and she portrays a realistic representation. She mentions her girlfriend, makes small comments like “you two are hetero goals,” and lets us glimpse into her life. And she doesn’t take over a room like Jack does, she’s there for Cami, and has a good relationship with her kids, as proven by Gabi trusting her to pick up Bobby and Liam from Jupiter. And then the significance of Cami freeing Bobby and Liam from a storage closet is something I touched on earlier *here*.

So why is Cami important? Because she is the casual representation we want and deserve! She’s not a big deal on the show, but she also not diminished. She doesn’t need to make headlines to be important. She’s real, and believable, and I’m hoping there’s more of her as well as characters like her. Casual representation is important too, and it’s important because she’s not the only queer character on the show, and the other queer person isn’t her love interest.

Hopefully I got my message across that Cami is the next step of queer characters in shows.

[danielcancallmeanytime]

I See You

Danny (Promised Land) x OC

Notes: Danny is one of my favorite Kiefer characters and I always wanted to give him a different ending and this is what I could came up with. I really hope I made him justice. As usual I had help from my wonderful talented friend @semiautomaticheart​ with my grammar, because I suck. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: None that I can remember now but I should say that this is some serious tooth rotting fluffy, ma boys. Read at your own risk!

Danny left that room with the same feeling he had when he entered. Though he longed to be heard and to express his feelings for Mary, he knew it had no purpose - her heart belonged to someone else and he was leaving, there was nothing more to be done.

While coming down the stairs with Davey, he was so lost in his thoughts that once more he missed a pair of glittering eyes following his moving figure around the room. The eyes trembled when they realized he was leaving. As soon as the two boys were outside, a gentle touch on Danny’s arm made him turn around:

- H- hi! - The girl mumbled.

- Oh, hi! - Danny recognized her from school but thought that this was the first time that he ever heard her voice.

- I’m Johanna! We do- we used to do Physics together. – She said, nervously.

- Yes, I remember you! I’m Danny. – He responded, extending his hand.

- Yeah, I know. – She laughed a little, shaking his hand. – I wanted to ask you something actually.

- Oh, okay.

- W-would you, hm… Are you hungry?

- Not really, actually I - Danny blankly began to reply, instantly receiving a small bump on his shoulder and a knowing look from Davey. - I mean, uh… Yes, I am.

- Well… - She stopped for a second, like she was trying to find the right words. - Would you like to have dinner with me? Maybe at that diner around the corner?

The boy froze. Davey caught how Danny’s eyes seemed lifeless all of a sudden and tried to give him a hand: - Of course, he would! Right, Senator? You need to eat well before your trip. - The boy just quietly nodded, now staring at the girl, still puzzled at what her intentions could be.

She just gently smiled at him and he, as soon as he was conscious again, smiled back.

…………………………………………………….

The way to the diner took a little more time than he expected, considering that Danny had a problem with his car, but, with the help of Davey, soon they were on their way.

Sitting on opposite sides at the table, right after ordering their food, the girl tried to break the silence:

- So… You know what you’re going to do now? - She asked, shyly.

- Yeah! I received a job offer in another town. I’m actually leaving tonight! - Danny answered, excited.

- Oh… - She looked down for a bit, and Danny thought that her eyes seemed sad. - That’s great! I’m really happy for you. – Johanna gave him a blue smile and looked away.

- What about you?

- Me?… I don’t really know. - She said, looking thoughtfully through the window - I will probably just get a job, save some money and go someplace else… My aunt offered me a job in her store, maybe I’ll do that.

- Hm…You get along with her?

- Not really. - The girl smiled a little, finally looking at him again - But, I don’t have many options so…

Danny looked down at his hands under the table; they were trembling and slightly sweaty. - You don’t really need that much money to leave, you know?… You can just figure it out when you get to the place you’re going. – He said, focusing on how his fingers were shaking. When he finally raised his head, he saw how her eyes had changed - she seemed worried.

- Would you do something like that?… – Johanna asked, watching the boy’s eyes.

- No! I mean… I just said because you- but I wouldn’t… - He got anxious but decided he just didn’t want to talk about it. Danny knew it wasn’t the brightest idea but he had to leave. What choice did he have? Stay and forever be the “Senator”?… He wanted more, he was tired of who he was and who he knew he would become.

The girl just quietly gazed at him while he refused to meet her eyes. Soon the food came, but none of them touched it. Suddenly, her voice made his eyes find hers again:

-Did you know my mom died when I was a kid?…

Danny didn’t respond.

-She had breast cancer… Right after, my dad took me to live with my aunt for a year while he worked in another city and… She was just… – Johanna seemed to get distracted by her own memory for a second, Danny saw a tear leave her eye that she promptly wiped off - I used to cry every night, praying for something or someone to take me home. I thought that as soon as my father came to take me back, everything would be fine and I would feel safe and loved again but, when it happened… Nothing was the same. Not my house, not my father, not even me… And then, I realized that it didn’t matter where I went or who I was with, I will never be able to erase who I am now and what happened to me… – She looked at him, and her eyes were glittering with the tears she wouldn’t let go. – So, I might just have to make peace with that…

Danny didn’t know what to say, he just kept watching her. Catching his lost glance, Johanna smiled softly and said: - Don’t worry, you don’t have to say anything… But maybe we should really start eating.

The boy let a soft laugh escape and followed her advice. They mostly ate in silence, but neither of them were tense. Danny didn’t realize it, but his hand had stopped trembling for the first time since he left home that night.

…………………………………………………….

He offered to take her home and she accepted. As soon as he stopped at the front of her house, they both started to get nervous again:

- Well, hm… Thank you for agreeing to have dinner with me… It was really nice. – She said, trying to not stare at him much.

- Y-yeah, it was… I really enjoyed it. – He answered, while his mind tried to figure out the next step. Should he kiss her? That’s what people do, right?

- Hm… Anyway, good luck with your job and all. I hope I can see you again. – She smiled, opened the door, and left.

Danny froze again. Did he just blow it?

He hadn’t come back to his senses yet when she opened the door, sat, and started talking again:

- I know you like Mary. - She glanced at him and looked away quickly, embarrassed by her words. – I mean, most guys like her but you… You look at her in such a kind way… I don’t think even Davey ever looked at her like that. – She tried to stare at him again, but she couldn’t. – I know you think you’re invisible, that no one can really see you, but I do… I always did. And I… I like you, Danny. I like you a lot… Just the way you are. – Johanna finally found the strength to meet his gaze and once more, he was frozen.

In a sudden moment of courage, probably moved by the possibility that this was the last time she would ever be able to see him, she moved her face toward his and sealed his lips with hers. It was fast, but when she tried to move away, Danny softly held her arm. He silently thanked that impulse and tried to respond to her kiss in the best way he could. When she moved away, he still kept his eyes closed for a couple seconds, enjoying the electricity and warmth that was left from her. As soon as he opened his eyes, he found her sweet smile waiting for him and couldn’t stop himself from doing the same.

Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for reality to remind them that this was a goodbye. Johanna didn’t try to say anything and simply left a kiss on his cheek and left the car. Danny waited a couple minutes before starting the car again, in part hoping she would come back, but she didn’t.

He drove away but his thoughts would always navigate to the same place. When he got to the limits of the town, he stopped. Did he get everything he needed? “No”, the voice in his head responded.

Could he stay? Could he come back and pretend he never really planned any of this, say that someone else took the job and maybe take Johanna out again? Could he?… He closed his eyes and tried to imagine what his future looked like, waiting for clues that could guide him tonight.

When he fell asleep, it was as if all the air through the town got lighter.

Tomorrow, every boy and girl would wake up happier. Couples would make peace and debts would be forgotten, because Danny Rivers finally would have a chance.

[totally-incorrect-theatre-quotes]

After the Rain (fanfic)

Emily

By popular demand and my own impulsiveness here is Emily’s chapter. Just a fair warning that this fic overs most of Lydia’s childhood and peeks into her adulthood. At times it gets to be very OOC and refers to the canon within the mini-universe that is my fanfiction collection. Also don’t @me for making my OC Wendy end game haha. 

Emily is a wonderful mother, this fanfic proves it, but uh...grab your tissues this is going to get sad at times

TW: Cancer, mentions of death, suicide mentioned, grief, bullying

____________________________________________________________

Emily knew. Lydia was about four or five years old when Emily got the first indication from a conversation lost to Lydia’s memory. The two of them were walking to the bodega down the street when they ran into the couple that lived in the other half of their duplex, they were a really nice couple with two children, including a son named David who was Lydia’s age and a new baby on the way. From conversation over the years, Emily had learned that the two of them had been together for almost ten years now and though they weren’t legally married they did everything a married couple would. She and Charles hosted them for dinner before while their kids had a playdate, Sara was a lawyer from an environmental company and Jessica was an accountant who got along famously with Emily’s real estate agent husband. Being only three at the time Lydia didn’t even notice anything about the situation, she just knew that the little boy from next door was a worth hide and seek opponent. 

It had rained that afternoon so Lydia was preoccupied jumping up and down in every rain puddle she came across, her yellow rain jacket making her look like a little duck as she hopped down the street. Sara and Jessica must have gone down to the store and gotten caught in the storm because their hair was soaked as they walked up the street. Emily invited them over for game night that evening and the three of them started talking. Lydia paid no attention to the grown-up talk until she saw the two women hold each other’s hands, and the one lady kissing the other’s as they made a joke. She stared at them for a second and was disrupted when her mom bid them farewell and held onto Lydia’s hand once more and started walking towards the shops again. 

“Mama how come they hold hands like you and daddy?”

Emily smiled gently at her curious but blunt daughter, “Because they love each other like me and daddy do. That’s why David has two mommies.”

Lydia’s eyes widened, “There can be two mommies?”

“There are lots of kinds of family’s sweetie. Sometimes it’s a mommy and a daddy, sometimes it’s two mommies or two daddies, sometimes it’s just one.”

“Are they married?”

Not wanting to discuss the long and complex history of trying to get marriage equality to a kindergartener Emily told her they were. The look on her face when she told her that was as if a light bulb had lit up in her tiny head. Very matter of factly Lydia looked up, smiled widely at Emily, her smile missing a few teeth that had become the property of the tooth fairy, and announced, “I want to marry a girl too!”

“That’s okay with me,” Emily chuckled unsure if anything would ever come of the conversation or if it would be another one of the musings of a child like how last week Lydia wanted to be a bird. Emily couldn’t tell the future, but no matter how it went she knew she’d love Lydia no matter what. Emily slightly hoped that the couple next door would be there while Lydia was growing up so that if she was, Lydia would never have to grow up thinking it was something abnormal. Unfortunately the next year Jessica had been offered a lucrative position in California and the whole family moved away, within a few months Lydia had almost completely forgotten about the family next door and they were instead replaced with an equally nice elderly couple that Lydia would always associate to be her childhood neighbors. 

Lydia was a little older the second time Emily thought she knew. She was in the third grade making valentines for the Valentine’s Day party in school the next day, most the kids in her class would be receiving a paper card with a lollipop taped to it and a quick, messy scribble that was supposed to resemble Lydia’s signature. Only one card was neat looking, it was also the one on the packaging that Lydia had said was her favorite. It was a cartoon cat holding a heart that said: “Be my meowentine” and Lydia signed her name with her I dotted with a heart. Curious as to who this prized valentine was going to Emily glanced down at the name and didn’t recognize it from the mental list of kids Lydia was friends with. It was addressed to a girl named Chloe. Even the cards for the kids she was friends with didn’t look as nice as this one. Emily wondered if this new girl was suddenly Lydia’s best friend or if possibly Lydia had her first crush. Not wanting to embarrass her daughter she didn’t ask, but she could see the next day the disappointment in Lydia’s eyes when the card she didn’t even get a card from Chloe. 

Lydia was ten years old when gay marriage was legalized in the United States. She was sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast with her parents when they all heard it on the morning news. Nobody really had a strong reaction. Charles said something along the lines of how it was about time it was made legal and Emily thought back to that lovely couple that lived next door to them in the years past, wondering if they were celebrating the great news, not that they were never a family but now it was official. The life they had been living was now accepted by a majority of the country. Emily looked over to an obvious Lydia and was thrilled that her daughter was allowed to grow up in a time where love is love. Relieved that if Lydia was she wouldn’t have to hide it, and if she wasn’t that she could be an ally and appreciate the beautiful and diverse world they had to pleasure to live in. 

Ever since she had started middle school Lydia had become really insecure and self-conscious, it was a hard change to see in her previously confident daughter. She was painfully aware of how cruel kids could be at that age. It’s such a confusing time in life that people often take their inner anguish out on other people. It doesn’t make it right but that’s a fact of adolescence. She wished she could give Lydia a skip button and just let her fast forward through the awkward years of middle school but she couldn’t. Lydia came home from school the one day musing about how pretty the one girl in her class was dressed,  how nice her smile was, how smart and funny she was, always making jokes when the teacher wasn’t listening. Charles, a well-meaning, but not intuned to the more sensitive topics in life simply gave Lydia a pitiful look and told her, “Aw honey you’re beautiful too, you don’t have to compare yourself to them.”

It was very possible that that was what Lydia was doing but the way she talked about the girl reminded her of herself at that age when she had a crush on the boy who sat in front of her in English class. Lydia didn’t say anything more on the matter, simply thanking her father for the compliment and finishing her dinner quickly. Emily gave Charles a stern look but it was clear that he didn’t know what he did to upset her, to be fair Emily didn’t know if that was what had upset Lydia either, she hoped that if what she thought was true was true that she would have established enough trust that Lydia would feel comfortable telling her. 

She didn’t make a habit of snooping on the things in Lydia’s room but one night when she was putting away laundry one of Lydia’s dresses had accidentally been washed with Charles’ shirts. Lydia was off to school that day and when Emily went into her room her laptop was still open and turned on, resting on her desk. She walked past and couldn’t help but notice the title of one of the tabs open. The Kinsey Scale Test. She didn’t click on the tab to see the results, those tests only tell you what you want to hear but it was confirmation that Lydia was indeed questioning it. Respectfully she didn’t bring it up, knowing that if she was ready she would bring it up herself. 

Emily didn’t want to leave. She wasn’t ready to die, she didn’t want to lose Charles or leave Lydia alone but it wasn’t like she had a choice in the matter. The cancer had metastasized to her spinal cord and she had a three percent chance to live the next six months. She wasn’t scared of dying, she wasn’t particularly religious, she didn’t care what happened next, but she was so afraid of what this would do to Lydia. She was so young, she needed a mother still. There was so much of her daughter’s life she was going to miss. She was never going to get to see Lydia start high school, or take her to buy a dress for her first dance, or help her work through her first broken heart. She’ll never get to see Lydia find what she’s passionate about, she’ll never help Lydia fill out college applications or watch her open acceptance letters. She’ll never see Lydia graduate and go to college, she won’t have to hold back tears when her baby girl moves out. She won’t get to meet the people Lydia wants to share her life with, or meet the person she marries, or the children she has if she wants then. She’s going to miss everything that happened in her daughter’s life and there was nothing she could do about it. All Emily ever wanted was for Lydia to be happy and to have a good life and now she’ll never get to know how it all turns out. 

She wanted so badly to focus on the now, she was still here right now and Lydia needed her but she couldn’t help but to get lost reminiscing on the past or lamenting on a future she’ll never have. Over the weeks and months leading up to the end, she couldn’t even leave the hospital, it was nothing but the same four white walls as they tried to treat the cancer just trying to give her more time. Charles and Lydia kept her company when they could but Emily could tell when it was all becoming too much for the fourteen-year-old. She had to deal with all of this on top of all the other things going on in the life of an eighth-grader. She didn’t go to school much during the last month, she was given extensions on all her work and told to just focus on family and though Lydia desperately wanted to be there all the time Emily and Charles would insist that she would sleep at home and spend at least one day a week being with kids her age. She knew Lydia was still being bullied, most people pulled back knowing about the whole cancer situation but some kids just used that even more. Emily frequently caved when Lydia would stall going home, insisting that she wasn’t tired but twenty minutes later she would be peacefully sleeping curled up on a hospital chair or snuggled up like a kitten at the foot of Emily’s bed. She didn’t know how many more nights she would get with Lydia, and even though she was fourteen Emily relished in the nights when her daughter would fall asleep in her embrace, all the stress and worry melting from her face as she slept. Emily’s thoughts drifting from memory to memory of Lydia growing up, and though she was so grown-up she could still see that little baby she cradled all those years ago. The toddler that would terrorize the house during the day but look like an angel in her crib. The little girl who would run off the school bus after school and play all night until she fell asleep in the crook of Emily’s arm when reading a bedtime story, using all the funny voices that made Lydia giggle. She wondered where all the years had gone, and when Lydia had grown up.  

There was something on Lydia’s mind, she could tell. She could see it in her eyes but she didn’t know what. There was so much going on in her life that it could have been anything, but whatever it was it was conflicting Lydia. It was a very noticeable change in her demeanor. She avoided certain topics, she got defensive when a well-meaning nurse mused about how any boy would be lucky to date her. Lydia was sitting with her in the hospital bed watching some sappy soap-opera on the hospital television, and when a lesbian couple kissed on-screen Lydia trained her eyes down on the floor, not like she was disgusted but like she was ashamed. 

Every once and a while she would go to talk but stop herself as if she was doubting what she wanted to say. Emily tried to assure her they could talk about anything but Lydia would just change the subject saying it wasn’t important. What was important to her was being there. Everyone was aware when the end was coming, they knew it would be soon but they didn’t know exactly when it was going to happen. The third week of December Emily took a turn for the worse, she was rushed into the intensive care unit and Charles was told to bring the family to say their goodbyes. 

She died on the Eighteenth of December. A day that forever would invoke nothing but grief and heartache in Lydia. A puzzle that would never be fully complete no matter how many pieces she added because something would always be missing. It had taken her a long time to be okay. It had literally taken her a demon and a near-death experience to give her a new lease on life and while she still missed her mother very dearly every day, she was able to go on with her life. Something that she had almost cut short twice because she was so blind with grief and hurt. She learned to be more comfortable with herself. Slowly she had told people the truth, beginning by telling herself the truth as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Telling her father had been hard but she felt stronger once she had, like she wasn’t so alone anymore. She had a variety of coming out stories from accidentally telling Delia, to the tearfully and serious conversation with the Maitlands, to the very casual statement told to Beetlejuice. She felt loved and supported, though she was still bullied and she had her heart broken she rebounded quickly. She met a girl she liked and after a while, she was proud to call Wendy her girlfriend. She was welcomed into the Blackwood family with open arms, and over time they two of them just got closer. The summer before her sophomore year the whole family took a trip to New York and went to Lydia’s first pride parade. She knew her community was large but she couldn’t help but to gasp in awe of just how many people there were like her, proud to be who they were. While the crowd could be overwhelming at times Lydia would always think fondly of the memory, and no matter how many parades she went to afterward that one would always be her favorite.  

There were hard times too. Every December was hard for Lydia, she would retreat into herself and unintentionally push people away. It took her time to learn to let people in and be there for her and she learned how to be there better for him. There were plenty of times where Lydia wished her mother had been there. In her junior year, she and Wendy had broken up. They had a silly argument that neither of them remembered but it lead to them being broken up for almost half a year before Lydia realized she didn’t want to lose her and asked her to prom. During first few weeks of the break-up, she wanted nothing more than to have her mother by her side eating ice cream and talking about their feelings. Barbara, Delia, and Beetlejuice were more than willing to fill the role, she appreciated it but it wasn’t the same.  She had her father save a seat for Emily at her graduation and she blew a kiss to the empty seat when she received her diploma. Lydia kept up with therapy over the years, going less frequently but she still touched base at least once a month but she learned skills to cope better. A task that once seemed impossible was now one of her favorite coping mechanisms, in the drawer of her dorm desk was a shoebox filled with letters for her mom that she had written whenever she needed to get something off her chest. Some were emotional and hard for her to write, others were her sharing good news, a once and a while some would simply be what she did that day. She never knew what to do with them, she knew nobody would ever read them but she couldn’t bring herself to throw them away. 

She beat herself up a lot about how she had never had to courage to tell her mother she was gay before she died. She knew her mom would have been accepting but at fourteen she wasn’t sure of anything anymore. There was so much happening during that time of her life that the lowest priority was coming out. She kept it a secret and it was a regret of her that haunted her for years. She would eventually come to terms with it and the fact that she couldn’t change the past.

Years and years had passed. She was now all grown up, buying a house in Connecticut with Wendy right next door to the place she called her home from the time she was fifteen. She had built a life for herself that she was proud of. Her unconventional family was a beautiful and chaotic mess and she added to the chaos by marrying Wendy and adding two children to their family. They adopted a two-year-old boy that, much to the dismay of Beetlejuice, came with the name Lawrence and they welcome a baby girl that Wendy and Lydia unanimously decided to name Emma. Lydia was never shy about telling her kids about her family, they were aware from a very young age that their one grandma was in the Netherworld and though they had a lot of questions about everyone else in the family their normal included Charles, Delia, Wendy’s parents and brothers, their Uncle BJ and the ghost-grandparents who nearly bawled when the met the kids for the first time. Their unique family definitely earned some concerned questions when Lawrence and Emma’s pre-school drawings included two ghosts and a demon. 

The children were six and four when Lydia finally thought they were ready. They packed up the car for the trip and drove an hour and a half back to New York City. They planned to do some sightseeing while they were there but most of their trip was welcomed with rain and thunderstorms. On the last day of the trip, they got the kids dressed, Lawrence in a red raincoat and Emma in a yellow polka-dot raincoat that made her look like a little duck when she jumped up and down in the puddles as they walked on the sidewalk. They arrived a the cemetery, Lydia’s memory drifting back to a dark time in her life where she felt so invisible and alone. She held tightly onto Wendy and her kids as they walked over to the spot. A grey colored tombstone with the words etched: “Emily Deetz. Devoted wife to Charles, Beloved mother to Lydia.”

Lydia gently placed a bouquet of red roses on top of the tombstone while she held back a tear. The rain had stopped before they got out of the car and the sun was peeking out from behind the trees illuminating the field in a golden-orange glow. Looking up at the sky Lydia pointed to her kids the rainbow in the distance. She took in a shaky breath, she had been waiting years to finally tell her. She thought she’d be more nervous, more emotional but she kissed the back of Wendy’s hand and said, “Hey mom, there are some people I want you to meet.”

[plutoswrath]

horror for each sign

(Warning: explict description of violence and disturbing scenes.)

Aries: Gruesome:

I sit in the living room. The TV is turned on but there is no sound but the endless noise of the static. Black and white orbs mix into my vision and the walls are painted red. It mixes beautifully with the minty wallpaper, now adorened with red roses.  Mother was so annoying. Always telling me to move aside from the TV (’Stop watching TV!’). So I took the hammer Mother usues to tender the meat with. She sat in front of the TV. And I smash the hammer towards her head. Tendering her head like a fine filet. (Splatter. Splatter. Splatter. Crimson colored splatters everywhere). Mother is quiet and in my head everything is very loud. But then my favorite TV show comes on and I sit in front of the big, static scene. I forget Mothers now very well tendered head behind me. I am not bothered, being just by myself. 

Taurus: Tragic:

This appartement is a nightmare to sell. I’ve had some tough cases and some tough clients, but this is...nothing I was prepared for. Nothing about appartement 26 seems off at frst. It’s rather small, I could even say it has the potential to be cozy and warm, but there is something eerie clawing on your back, as soon as you enter it. Not to mention the figures I see in the corner of my eye and in the mirrors sometimes. The carpet is old and smells like somebody desperately tried to clean it over and over again in order to cover something up (murder maybe?). The bed always looks as someone just sat on it, even though I made it minutes ago. I learned not to put my keys on the shelf because they will go missing and reapear on strange places (behind the shower curtains). I am doomed because I am bound to this appartement. There has been a number that keeps calling me and asks if it’s still avaible, we made an appointment for a visit, but no one appeared. I can’t call them back, the number isn’t avaible (that’s what the voice of the Lady at the other side of the receiver whispers). But this number keeps calling me, every Friday at 12pm. I know something happened there, but at this point I don’t dare to search for answers.

Gemini: Disastrous:

Once there was a man, with a house big enough for him to live, too small for a family to grow. The man drew a picture of his family every day - 4 people. Happy and smiling, eating dinner at the kitchen table. The man brushed his teeth every night before lying down to sleep and combed his 4 puppets hair.  Humming, humming. He loved his puppets, dear companionship they were always there for him where did my family go? No need for a family I told her to stop shouting at me as his house is too small to grow one. Because he is alone and forever and will be and will not seek out for a real life company what do you mean they aren’t my children? Ding dong. I open the door and see a child a child that is not mine. I will refuse to accept that they aren’t mine I am alone and will keep me company, yes come in, I will buy some cookies, sit down on the couch, you want to look at my puppets?

Once there was a man, with  a house big enough for him to live, too small for a family to grow. But enough space for a small family of puppets, now combing 5 heads every night before lying down to sleep. 

Cancer: Cruel:

It is 08:30 pm. in the deepest of winter. The sun has set a long time ago and the world outside is warpped in a thick blanet of glistening snow. Four children brush their teeth before lying down to sleep, as they hear someone climbing down the stairs and opening the door. 

“Children, lie down, will you? Uncle Vitja will tell you a nice story before you go to sleep, okay? Since your mother and father are still in that restaurant they mentioned earlier they told me to help you fall asleep. Of course I prepared a nice story from Russia, what kind of question - oh, just hear what I have to tell, okay? Have you ever heard of Baba Yaga? No? Ha! I thought so, now, listen closely..never, never go alone into the forest and be disrespectful to nature, you hear me? Baba Yaga has her eyes and ears everywhere and somewhere she will watch you when you try to pick all the flowers from the fields or demolish the trees with a knife; yes I am looking at all of you! You are closeby teh forest, so pay attention! Her hut can’t be found since it stands on chicken legs and wanders around. Also you can’t enter even when you find it, because it turns around when sensing intrudors. But you’ll notice if its her shack even when it looks normal because the garden is adorned with human skulls since she likes eating us. Huh? What are you looking at me? I only tell the truth! She is one with the earth and one with life and death; she decides who needs to die and who doesn’t but this all...makes her hungry at times, it’s exhausting you know and the flesh of humans is so tender....”

Uncle Vitjas eyes run across the room as he turns to the opened window. 

“Rule number one: never leave your windows open when your parents aren’t home. Yaga smells the bad spirit of mean children!”

And his eyes turn red and his nose long. His back shrinks and his skin turns to bark. The teeth long and metallic. The children are in shock and fear grips them tightly as the old womans long finger hover over to them. They can only hope for their parents to come home soon. 

Leo: Mad:

“Manot? Dear, is that you? (.....) Dear, don’t be mistaken, I am sorry for troubling you with my calls lately, but I am so far away and I needed to hear you voice (.....) Oh silly, have you forgotten how to speak? I called your mom yesterday because I read that you couldn’t bring yourself to look her in the eyes after stealing the money she put aside for your fathers surgery (...) Oh- so sorry, I know you told me not to read your diary, but please, put those dangerous pills aside and come to me - no rehab needed, just my ever lasting love that heals you (............) Manot...now, don’t be mean. I wouldn’t break into your home if you would just give me the keys like I asked you to in my last love letter!! Pay attention to my words and you wouldn’t be so troubled all the time!! Stupid bitch, igoring me and my love as always, why do you think you’re higher than me? (.................) Can’t say something? (...............) Hello? (.......crrk.........) Hello? Are you recording this? Just wait till I come home! Hope you don’t fall asleep without me, hehe, mind it if you could put on those sweet mint colored panties you wore back than as you graduated? I loved these...ha..... (....). Well then, I need to go to work now. See you soon love. Bye.”

Virgo: Cold:

Our Grandmother used to tell us stories about her old school. Stories I like to tell my friends when we sit together for a drink after work. She has always been a funny woman, she’s been a clever kid that liked to trick her teachers at times and told me she never got into trouble because of the ‘funny’ old man (a monk to be specific) that apparently no one saw except her. The school (having been a monestary in the past) was old and full of history. And the kids gave the dead walls new life. And so did my Grandmother to this dead man who never talked but stood in the corner, pointing to opened windows  she snook out when her teachers turned away. Or directing her to the funny old photobooks of former students in the big library. He never left the grounds of the school though. She was young - 8 years old maybe - and felt special to have made such an ‘unique and special friend’, that she never thought about the fact that it could’ve been a ghost. So I asked her if he was nice. Her smile turned crooked and she looked out of the window as she answered: “I think he was once, but he was lonely for too long. One day I walked down the hallway and he pointed to staircase to the cellar or our school - something we were forbidden to go to under any circumstances because of the gigantic oven that stood there. Well, as idiotic as I was I followed him, but right in front of the doorway I stopped. His smile was off and he pointed into the black room where the giants red and orange mouth of the oven smiled at me. I felt the chance in the air and left, shaking my head. He looked angry and sad at the same time. Later that day one of our students went missing. And they found him. 2 days later, his ashes and bones in the oven. I am glad I was smart enough not to walk into the room that day and I never saw that monk again.”

Libra: Erroneous:

‘I love you, I love you’, I whisper as I turn the knife in your chest and stab into you heart for more than a thousand times. All the times I told you I loved you, I revisit those memories and breath heavily as I remember our first kiss. ‘Ah, your eyes are beautiful..’ So I plunge them out and put them in a jar, I place them on the top of my bookshelf so I can look at them and you can look at me when I lie down to sleep.  I  f e e l  t h e  w a r m t h  o f  y o u r  b l o o d  o n  m y  b o d y  G  o  d   y o u  f e e l  s o  g    o      o         d. I love the way you looked at me and you loved my smile so I engrave it into my skin, on my face - forever. I place my hand on your chest and the open wound allows me to toucg your heart. I smell you and feel you.

          I                                         l  o  v  e                                                y o  u. 

Scorpio: Demonic:

‘It is him who writes the names behind our wallpaper, when our little daughter tells me to look behind it. He is the nightmare that keeps her up at night, the monster underneath her bed, the long black hair that is tickling me in the shower. There is a shadow I feel standing behind me, someone breathing in my neck; the wind that is closing and opeing our doors and the force that drags me from the couch every time I try to sleep there. The feeling of someone standing behind me and watching how the blood begins to pump under the constant pressure in our own precious four walls.  There are eyes inside of the dark- A pair of two red eyes accompanying me everywhere. They are placed in every little black corner in our house. I see them in the reflection of the TV and the computer screen. They are bloody and since weeks our sleeping room smells foul. And it is I who brought him here in order to bring you back, my dear, and I brought sin over our love, over our home, over the one I swore to protect. And I will continue protecting her - in heaven.’

Love, Helena

(To whoever finds this: leave the ruins of this home and never come back.He will follow.)

Sagittarius: Bloody:

I once visited this town on one of my trips. It was small and far away from the next bigger city, but people from all around it swooned over the restaurants that has been there for several generations - apparently it served the finest meat in town. So naturally, I ordered a table for one the following day and tried a steak myself. Indeed, it was fine - very fine, tender and beautifully pink colored in the middle. I am confused though: I haven’t seen any fields with cattles or any farms on my way to this city. Nor do they have many tourists here; so how does this restaurant survive over the years? Then again, my uncle is an ivestigator and told me that near the next biggest city that is two hours away have been reported people that went missing over the past 50 years. And seemingly, they never reappeared. But they cases went cold since there were almost no hints or tracks. 

Oh god .

.

.

What am I eating?

Capricorn: Sinnful:

Day after day he cared for the old cathedral, being the only Pastor to talk to for the old village, in the dark times of WW1 being the voice of sanity that bring clarification for the desperate citizens. “God”, he asked one day, knees on the ground, “why does his happen to us? What did we do, our small village, to deserve being conflicted in this war?” God -  knowing that the higher sense of the things happening aren’t for this man to understand, the pastor knowing for sure that it is evi, tempted people creating chaos on earth - kept quiet and knew this was an inner war he had to fight for himself. The devil - listening as well - being sneaky and answering the man instead: “You want to know?”, he asked alluring. The pastor cried. “Yes..all this blood and murder..” Content the devil whispered into the ear of the Pastor, telling him all the sins of the people in town, showing him that there is no such thing as innocence.  No, every time someone dared to go to the confessional, it was not the Pastors voice answering him. Something dark devoured his soul that night, letting him lose hope in good and moral. And he shamed them. And he pushed their souls to the cliff in times of gruesomeness. And no one dared to put a foot into the church, even after the war. Because an old, bald man with bloodstained eyes wrote hieroglyphics on the wall at night, talked in gibberish and dared to haunt everyone who stepped into this holy place with their sinfull souls. 

Aquarius: Immoral:

24.11.2017. Day 23. I didn’t leave the labor for almost a month now. I am not interested in eating. I don’t want to sleep. I just...can’t stop hearing those screams of this...abstrusity the doctor shot two days ago.  I think he lost his mind. He thinks creating live is like cooking: grabbing some ingredients that seem to get along together and putting it all into one mixing bowl - hoping for the best. But that’s not it. That’s against nature, that is...disgusting. He is whispering names to those dead mutated baby animals. (Sophie, wasn’t it?) He hopes for them to live, but how are they supposed to live if they can’t even move their limbs? I wonder now, how far will he go? I am afraid he will test on me. I am a female, perfect to give birth to whatever he wants me to. I need to find a way out of here, before I become one of his subjects. He looks at me always a little too long at times. And he complimented my wide hips once.  I will hide this letter somewhere safe, so he won’t find it, but please, if someone’s gonna find this and me, nurse ▇▇ ▇▇▇ is no more, please, stop this madness. He has a cellar I am not allowed to go in, God knows what he is keeping in there, since I already know where he is keeping the animals. To whoever reads this, stay safe, don’t be fooled by easy money making like me.

Pisces: Otherworldly :

Mom doesn’t believe me.

She doesn’t believe that there is a Boogeyman in the closet, with yellow eyes and long, long fingers that tries to grab little children in their sleep. She doesn’t believe that when I close the door behind me, I can hear someone scratching at the other side of it. She doesn’t believe that there is someone standing in front of the window at night, that’s why I close the curtains always for her and force her to look away when the dark figures in the mirrors try to scare her. Mom hates the footsteps at night, but I just try to catch those bats that get into our attic every night. He sends them and tries to scare her so much so that she falls down the stairs and breaks her neck. 

Mom didn’t believe me back then and years later after I died in this house she still tries do deny the evil in it. But I am here to protect her. Even tho she is afraid of me, I love her and will forever be by her side. 

[myownprivate-johnnyutah]

If Found (Chapter 1)

AN: A Fluff-as-Fuck Penpals Story because we’re in a fuckin’ pandemic and I want to write about yearning, goddamnit. I have no outline, no plan and am just going wild with it. 

Synopsis: After losing a notebook in a Brooklyn bar two years ago, Alana Miles has lost a few more things and gained some others. Lost? Her tiny Brooklyn apartment, her first love-turned fiancé, their shared cat. Gained? A small rental house in her hometown, a second book deal, a rescue bulldog and a facelss email pen pal she may or may not be falling for. (AO3)

Wordcount: 1,530

September 2020

It’s a little early to be up for a Saturday, but she cracks open her laptop anyway— careful not to jostle the sleeping bulldog deep snoring across her legs. Alana has tried to let herself sleep in on weekends, lately. With the weekdays full of deadlines, interviews and long calls with her editor normally kicking off before her morning coffee’s kicked in, the few blissful hours of no screens and light-blocking blinds on Saturdays were usually her favorite thing. Usually.

It’s not her fault, though. Because of stupid timezones, there was a message waiting for her that she’d be itching to see and even after years (plural) of back-and-forth emails with her accidental pen pal, the little rush of seeing where the conversation would go next was enough to make her a bit more of a morning person (even when she doesn’t have to be). 

To: Miles2Go@mail.net.

From: KCR@mail.net

Subject: RE: RE: RE: The Not-Divorce is Finalized! 

A, 

Sure, okay, I believe you.

I know you said you were fine and I understand I’m maybe half-obligated by the terms of our friendship to take that at face value and instead pivot to asking you about your day or the book proposal or whether you got around to reading that book I sent you (it’s a chapbook, honestly, and you pretty much read for a living). And I will ask those things. 

But I wanted to add, RE: your point on “closure not even being a fuckin’ real thing” that I’m not sure if I agree. Provided you’re giving yourself the grace to step away and close the chapters, relationships, painful memories in order to open something up, it’s as real as you want to make it. 

But what you’re going through (all of it), it’s draining and exhausting and you’re carrying a lot. Closing a door doesn’t mean everything’s resolved behind the door, just that you’ve resolved to let yourself be on the other side. 

I think you’re brave and good, if that helps. And I hope you’ll read that goddamn chapbook so we can talk about it.  

Yours, 

KC

Welp. That’ll need coffee to respond to, she thought, slowly inching her legs out from under Bruce (who let out an insulted snort before snuffling back into the duvet) and heading out to the kitchen. 

Mug in hand, she made her way out to the porch and took in the fall morning: the lake’s got the beginning reflections of red and orange showing through and the smell of burning leaves (they still do that out here) is already making its way to her door. The tiny one bedroom house she’d been renting is about five minutes from where she grew up (where her parents still live). It’s modest (if maybe cramped) but has big windows, a monthly rent that doesn’t drain her bank account beyond recovery and lets her be close to her mom for doctor’s appointments and long meetings with specialists that she trades off with her sister and brother. 

She leaves the door open a crack, since Bruce is unlikely to last long in the bed alone before stumbling out to his sunny porch bed, and takes a seat on her own “grown-up porch couch” — an oversized wicker basket chair her little brother salvaged from a friends’ student house and spray painted white to look less wretched, paired with some overly fluffy pillows her twin sister bought her. She cracked open her computer again and tried to figure out how she’d respond.

She tried, not infrequently, to picture KC. She was sure he was good looking, despite that name feeling so deeply undignified and childish for a man in his forties. (Or is he fifty by now? A funny thing about surprise pen pals is you never really exchange birthdates or A/S/L — and, in their case, they just went for the emotional jugular). She imagined a doe-eyed John Cusack-type (maybe a bit more “High Fidelity,” actually) or, of course, a Tom Hanks “You’ve Got Mail” has crossed her mind but neither really ever felt right. 

She knew a lot about him, after nearly two years of correspondence. He’s told her about the long scar going up his stomach that he got in a motorcycle accident (how he’ll forget its there even after 20 years); she knows he works in film but simply says “I help people tell lies for a living” when she asks for specifics; she knows he fell in love a few years back, after thinking he was never going to fall in love again (and that he has a gift for emphasizing the sweet of a bittersweet ending) and she know she’s a Virgo with a Cancer moon. He knew a lot about her, too: He knew birds freaked her out, that she was in the middle of final proofs of her first book and the proposal on her second; he knew she broke off an engagement (and thus a relationship spanning nearly all of her 20s) in the last year and reflexively performed being cavalier about it; he knew her mom was sick and that she left the life (the one she secretly wasn’t all that wild about) in Brooklyn to be closer to her.

It’s funny the way these little stories and pieces of ourselves can be assembled to make a person feel so whole and so close, even if they’re thousands of miles away and you’ve never seen their face and you probably wouldn’t have met if it weren’t for the right amount of happy accidents flowing in succession. 

He was her happy accident and, if she were the fate-believing type she’d believe it was some of that kismet that brought him to that Fort Green bar on that rainy afternoon. She’d been transcribing some notes in one of her many junk-ish notebooks (full of story ideas, a few email addresses and phone numbers for sources, a scribbled quote, some ticket stubs and a lone piece of gum between the back pages (whoops) — all organized by chaos) and got a call from Brandon, her then-fiancé reminding her that they’d need to leave their Greenpoint apartment for his department chair’s dinner party on the Upper West Side (a thing she’d forgotten she’d agreed to do) shortly and if she was still stopping to grab the wine. 

In her rush to settle up her tab, scamper to the liquor store next door and procure a fancy-ass bottle for the academic circle jerk, she left the notebook behind. Luckily, she’d remembered to scrawl her email in the front cover that time —she wasn’t going to let some rando find her address!

KC, as he told her later in one of their subsequent emails, found it and “began trying to decipher its many, many mysteries (the gum, for example).” 

She couldn’t be mad, she 100 percent would’ve done the same thing if fate, kismet, the universe’s funky algorithm, who knows, left someone else’s brain-dump to her doorstep. Between that confession (and the charming apology that came with it), the emails just didn’t stop — long after he’d sent the book back. 

Despite this two year friendship, she hasn’t seen his face — and only recently heard his voice. She knows he’s older than her 34 years by a not-small amount.  (He doesn’t have an instagram or a Twitter and when she asked him why he responded “Oh, that. What would I do with that stuff, really?”) And 95% of the time it doesn’t bother her. But then she sees emails like that and thinks of his deep, thoughtful voice (the calm, intentional pauses when he speaks that make everything go soft and quiet over the phone line) and something in her twitches. 

It’s been a long 18 months of being very single and maybe, just maybe it’s messing with her head to have such careful, considerate attention 4-8 (depending on how much they write and how busy they are) times a week. 

To: KCR@mail.net

From: Miles2Go@mail.net.

Subject: Doors Open & Closed — moving on.

KC, 

That poet soul of yours is working overtime today, bud. It’s too early for my icy heart to thaw the way it needs to if I’m going to adequately respond, so take this: I know. You’re right. I’ll try. Thank you. 

And try to let it be the end of this for now. 

I’m digitally and spiritually cleansing this space and cracking open this sad  pamphlet of a book you sent me. Stand by for my thoughts. 

Chilliest regards (with a gooey center), 

A

P.S. You promised me that shortlist of “films I need to watch now that I work from home and can watch movies all day.” Keep in mind, my attention span is like my love life: short, sad and ridiculous. 

She hits send and quickly checks in on the few dangling work emails that couldn’t wait until Monday. It’ll be a few hours before her West Coaster pen pal is up and a few more before he’s near a screen. He’s an early riser, but more of a yoga, outdoors-y, going jogging (ugh) kind than a feverish AM emailer. But she’ll forgive him that one (admittedly well-adjusted) flaw for now.

[mrsmaybank]

Gas Station Girl - Spencer Reid x Reader - CH 3

Spencer Reid’s first impression of the Reader is mixed. She’s “audacious, promiscuous, clever, and troubled.” and there is so many things Spencer would like to do about it.

CHAPTER ONE HERE

CHAPTER TWO HERE

A/N:I’m writing a Spencer Reid x Reader multific! The series will be intense and 18+. Age gaps, Explicit sexual content (dom/sub dynamics/kinks), angst, family issues, dark themes including: violence, suicide, murder, death, blood, and drug use and addiction. (Chapters will of course have trigger warnings depending on the content) HIGHLY recommend you listen to the playlist as you read!

A/N2: This chapter is the most wholesome one in the whole series! Other then the kinky smut LMAO. No for real though, this is as fluffy as it gets. Next chapter gets um… well you’ll see!

TW: Language, Age gap, use of ‘Little Girl’ as pet name, explicit sexual content (light degradation & unprotected sex), mentions of death, smoking weed, mentions of violence

Fic Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4WYosdR6Tz4y9lsmUghoMU?si=ZvyS_2oqSDW95PxULRs2fQ

The seconds of ignorant bliss after opening your eyes for the first time since a night of horrible decisions didn’t last as long for Y/N anymore. Pains and aches serving a reminder of all the apologies that were owed from her. Instant dread and distaste for confrontation swirled in her stomach. Ah but she deserved it all. The night was blurry, but from recollection, it was only Teddy. He’d dropped her off home, she remembered that. From where? Who knows, but it probably didn’t matter. Teddy’s services didn’t really warrant (nor did Teddy want) a heartfelt, apologetic phone call she decided. Instead a simple, “thx” text sufficed.

She stepped out of her room, pleased with the sight of her roommate rolling a joint on the kitchen table. “Good fucking morning.”  she meant it. The weed would ease the sting of the bruises and busted lip.  

“Morning.” Kena said, licking the joint to seal its precious contents. “What the fuck happened to you last night?” making a face of amusement.

The friends bursted out in laughter in unison.

“Got my ass beat.” Y/N started telling the story as Kena lit the j. “Remember ‘Record Shop’ Dude’?”

“Do I remember? You guys fucked for like a week straight. Thought you guys were gonna get married.”

“Well,” she couldn’t contain her laughter anymore, “Apparently he has a girlfriend. They’ve been together for three years.”

Kena passed her the joint laughing, “Apparently.” she watched as her friend inhaled the smoke, “I’ll never understand why you don’t fight back every time. I’ve seen your left hook, it’s deathly. It’s like you like getting your ass kicked.”

Y/N finished the joint, putting it out. “Yeah, I get off. Masochist, remember?” she said in a serious tone. Kena understood the satire of her response.

“What’re your plans tod-” she was cut off by her phone ringing. She saw the unknown number and smiled putting it on speaker for Kena to hear. “I’m fucking broke!” she shouted as Kena laughed. “You can’t scam me! I don’t have any fucking money to steal!”

The line went silent and they awaited the confused stutter of some telemarketing con artist. And a confused stutter came.

“Y/N? It’s Spencer.” he paused, “Spencer Reid?” he paused again. Perhaps she’d forgotten him.  “Dr. Spencer Reid?”

“I know who you are.”  

Kena looked at her friend in confusion, but she was busy replaying the events of the previous night. Spencer had called Teddy, from the parking lot of a shady…her memory stalled, liquor store.

“Holy fuck I’m such a piece of garbage.” was the only thing her subconscious could render.

“I am so fucking sorry. Holy shit. Thank you for last night, dear fuck. I’m sorry about that. And for screaming at you! I didn’t have your number saved.”

Spencer lightly sighed. She remembered. “It’s okay. How are you feeling?”

“Uh, great.” she stammered, “I’ve woken up a lot worse.”

Spencer could hear the slight embarrassment in her voice. “Good, good.” he took a deep breath, “Well I was wondering if maybe I could take you out to lunch? We’ve only ever spoken in parking lots.”

Kena opened her eyes in delight, mouthing “Yes!”

Y/N couldn’t contain her smile, “I’d like that Dr. Reid. Pick me up at three?”

“Sure little girl. See you soon.” Spencer hung up and Y/N melted.

Kena screamed, “You’ve been fucking a doctor?!”

“No.”  she smiled a devilish grin, “But I’m about to.” she sang, practically skipping with joy back to her room.

———————————————————————————————————–

Spencer hadn’t gotten a good look at the complex in the dark, but now he could see it in its full glory. Beer bottles and cigarette buds littered everywhere, sulky characters loitering at practically every corner, and a reek of marijuana. Not his personal idea of home sweet home.

He watched as the girl he was waiting for exited from apartment 209, looking just as wild as ever. He wondered if the disheveled look was intentional or if she always looked so crazily hot. His eyes continued to follow as she walked down the steps and into his passenger seat.

“Hi.” she said, eyes wide and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say she was blushing. Y/N didn’t seem like the kind of girl to blush.

“Hey. You look nice.” he started to pull out of the parking space.

“You don’t have to say that you know. I don’t look nice. I never look nice.” she sighed, “Truthfully I hate the idea of looking nice.”

Spencer was amused with her little ramble, “Why?”

“‘Cause nice is what you look like when you’re going to church. Or brunch. And I don’t do either of those.” she said plainly.

“What’s wrong with brunch?” he questioned smiling.  

“Nothing is wrong with brunch.” she paused for a minute, deciding whether or not to tell him all the atrocious memories she had in connection to brunch. He only asked you about fucking brunch. Don’t reveal all your baggage already. Don’t be a dramatic bitch. Just say your vegan or some bullshi-

“What are you contemplating on telling me?”

Her mouth gaped playfully. “Fucking cut the profiling! Three minutes in and you’re already doing your weird government shit.” she remarked, teasingly defensively.

Spencer laughed, “Weird government shit? Really?”

“Yeah.” she pursed her lips, “I said what I said.”

“It’s psychology, not weird government shit. It’s analyzing body language, and speech patterns and-”

“I get it. You’re fucking smart.” They pulled out to a red light.

“You’re smart too.”

“Thanks Doctor.” she smiled, it did make her happy to hear that. “So where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”, and see she did. As they got out of the car, Y/N couldn’t stop smiling. At first it was the way Spencer’s hand found hers, but then it was the sight. The restaurant was placed under the biggest trees she’d ever seen, with ivy hanging just a couple feet over her head. It was illuminated with lanterns and tiny hanging lights and she felt like she was in a fairy tale. It was beautiful.

“Hey Spencer?”

“Yes?” he said approaching the hostess, “Table for two, Spencer.” His attention shifted back down at her. “This is the prettiest place a boy has ever taken me.”

He smiled, “Yeah? You like it?” The hostess led them to their table and they sat. “A lot.” she giggled and Spencer swore his heart would explode. The sound was just too adorable.

“So Y/N, where are you from?”

She was a little surprised at the question, almost like nobody had ever asked. Had she ever been on a date? Like a proper sit down date?

“New York City, originally. But I uh, moved around a lot as a kid.”

“Tell me about that.”

“You really wanna know?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he questioned.

“Okay, fine. I used to live in this beautiful townhouse in Manhattan. I had a pink room with a huge bed and canopy. A gorgeous chandelier, this vanity with all my tiaras, and my dolls! Oh my god, those dolls were so fucking pretty.” he listened intently, relishing in the way her eyes lit up in a way he’d never seen.

“And then my dad died.” the glint of joy in her eyes was gone. “When I was seven. And we moved to West Virginia, living with my grandmother, until she died!” she let out a small laugh in attempts to keep the mood up. “Then we were living in this mobile park, which wasn’t so bad. Creeps and meth-heads came and went, but overall not a horrible place to grow up. It’s where I met Teddy, you know him.”

He nodded his head, still listening to every detail of the story.

“After my mom got remarried, him and I decided we wanted to go to California. This was supposed to just be a pitstop, get our shit together, you know? But we had a falling out, and he went without me. Came back when his brother got cancer. Then after Casey died he came back to D.C, got me to enroll in school with him And uh, now I’m here. I go to Washington Uni, by the way. Major in Journalism.” she ended shyly.

“I’m sorry about your dad. And your grandma. That’s a story.”

She nodded her head. “Its okay. Better place, you know?” How about you?”

“Well, uh, I’m from Las Vegas. It’s been just me and my mom for a while.  My childhood was a little weird, graduated high school when I was twelve, then I-”

“Hold the fuck up, twelve?” he nodded. “Holy shit. You’re one of those freakishly smart prodigy motherfuckers aren’t you?”

He laughed, “IQ of 187, not to brag.”

“Oh fuck you, you’re totally bragging.”

“You got into Washington, you did well in school too.”

“Yeah uh, despite the shitty childhood school wasn’t really ever an issue. My dad was a Senator, George Y/L/N, in New York. He had a lot of random contacts. When we moved to West Virginia I got to go to some snobby private school ‘cause his friend was a board member. Saint Matilda Preparatory School. Top of my class.” she smiled, “Not to brag.”

“You’re definitely bragging.” he teased.

Scoffing, she said, “I didn’t drop my IQ number, so you’re still the gloating one here.”

“I didn’t think you were a high school drop-out.”                                                “Aw Spencer really?” she said sarcastically.

There waiter came and took their order, but neither of them really cared about the food. They stayed there talking for longer then the restaurant would’ve liked, telling each other their craziest dreams, wildest experiences, bad decisions, and nothing and everything. Before they knew it, the restaurant was kicking them out. They walked back to Spencer’s car, hysterically laughing at the disdained waiter who had to so awkwardly ask them to order something else or leave, Y/N clinging to his arm.

“Nobody’s ever done something like this for me before.” Y/N said as Spencer got into the drivers seat.

“What do you mean?” Spencer turned to face her.

“Picked me up, taken me to a pretty restaurant, paid, opened doors for me.” her eyes locked in his, “Listened to me talk for so long.”

“I could listen to you talk forever.” he grabbed her face and kissed her. The kiss was nothing like he’d expected. It wasn’t an aggressive make-out fired by lust, it was a kiss of passion and dear affection.

They began to drive in silence. Not uncomfortable Awkward silence, more like enjoying each other’s company silence. That is until Y/N did something Spencer should’ve seen coming as this was the same girl he’d met at the gas station. Her hands were inching their way up his leg to his crotch, teasingly slow. She scanned his eyes for some note to stop, but it never came. She palmed him gently through his pants, watching him struggle to keep his eyes on the road, as he twitched under her touch. “Fuck.” he sighed out quietly, “Stop.”

“Take your shoes off, get in the backseat.” he turned off the main road, driving down a more secluded street until he found a tiny spot almost completely hidden by trees.

“Take your clothes off.” he still hadn’t made eye contact with her since telling her she was smart. She did as she was told, taking off her top and shorts as fast as she could. Spencer got out of the driver’s seat and got into the back passenger seat, only the middle seat separating them. “Come here.” obeying, she did. In only a bra and underwear, she crawled into Spencer’s fully clothed lap, as he grabbed her face and kissed her. Her barely let her move, wanting to be able to explore her mouth freely, She gasped for air, whispering a small “Oh fuck.”

He tightly gripped her jaw, toying with her bottom lip as he spoke, “You have such a dirty mouth.”

She smiled more poisonously then he’d ever seen, it was mischievous and seductive, and it made him crazy. “What’re you gonna do about it sir?”

Now it was him smiling as the small girl looked up at him with big eyes, “So many things.” He started to kiss her again, this time his hands going down to tease her clothed clit. She moaned into the kiss and rocked her hips down harder into his hand. “Please?” she moaned again.

He moved her panties to the side, sliding a finger through her wetness, “You need something don’t you?” She nodded her head.

“Well, use your words.”

“Touch me.” she got closer in his ear, “Please.”

“What’s with the niceties little girl? You don’t want to be touched, no, Good girls like to be touched. You, you are a desperate little slut, hm?” His fingers dipped into her with no warning, curling immediately, “You want to be destroyed.”

Her hips bucked almost instantly as she cried out, “Yes. I do.”

“Beg for it.”

“Sir,” she opened her eyes to lock with his, “Please.” Spencer continued to curl his fingers while still rubbing her clit, and her moans and breathes got sloppier and louder.

“Please!” she whined. “Please sir.” He couldn’t contain a small laugh, “No.”  

“This is a bit pathetic even for you, no? You’re here naked in my lap begging for me to let you come.” She nodded her head. “Oh but I’m sure you’ve done worse haven’t you love?” She shook her head. As badly as he wanted to lecture her about lying, he could feel her tighten on his fingers. “Can..” she stuttered in between moans, “Can I? Please let me come?”

“Awe, good girl asking for permission.” he pulled his fingers out, “No.”

He slipped his fingers in her mouth and watched as she sucked them off. “Figures you’d be good at that.” he unbuckled his belt, pushing his pants and lied back so the door supported his back. “Come sit on it.”

Her eyes opened in delight as she crawled over and did as she was told. He watched in awe as she sunk herself down onto him, clenching as their thighs met. He let her think she had some control, eyes never leaving her as she bounced and moaned. “You’re such a good girl baby.” He could see her teetering right above the edge, and seeing as he was so close as well, he gave in. “Come for me.” and with that, she did. Practically screaming as he fucked up into her through her orgasm, pulling out and finishing himself.

He hugged her into his chest, whispering small praises and delivering soft kisses to her sweaty forehead. She made small circles with her nails on his arms, “I fucked a doctor!” She giggled.

Spencer broke out into laughter, “I fucked YOU.”

“We fucked each other.” They laid there for a moment, Y/N practically melting to the feeling of being in his arms. It was too comforting.  

Eventually, Spencer began driving back to her apartment, loving every moment of her outlandish singing and dancing in his passenger seat until he parked to drop her off.

“You’re a very special girl.” Spencer said as she smiled.

She took a deep breath, “Spencer, I fucking like you. A lot. I can’t remember the last time I had a good time like this that I wasn’t fucking high or drunk or both.” she continued to ramble, “And I guess what I’m just trying to convey is-”

She was cut off by Spencer crashing his lips to hers. “I know what you mean.”  

She smiled and gave him one last peck on the lips, “I hope I’ll see you soon Dr.”

“You will.”

As she walked back up the stairs to her apartment, Y/N only had one thought. How am I gonna manage to fuck this up?

———————————————————————————————————–

Taglist (Comment to be added!):  @generaltheoristexpert @psych0crybaby @areallyusellesblog @arctic-duchess

@chevyimpala00067 @georgia4287 @purpleraindrops @drreidshands @must-be-a-weasley-92 @gabbie-is-sad @willowafsi

[charredbrie]

Kurobas Valentine’s Day Event 2020 Day 7: MuraMido side AoKi

OMG I can’t believe I’ve already finished with this event and I am so happy to be able to participate in this event. Pardon the late post, I am in deep with The Untamed Fandom, I am quite distracted and it actually takes me quite a while to decide on which pairing I am going to use. For this, I’ve decided to use the LDR theme just because I certainly know how it feels to be in this type of relationship. Been there, done that and never again lol But this one comes with a happy ending. So without further ado, here’s the last installment. This event isn’t possible with @vanilla-daydreams and @theuglycrybaby, many thanks to you guys <3

Day 6 Prompt: Free (MuraMido side AoKi Future Fic, College Students AU)

Title: Valentines’ Promise

Summary: College students Midorima and Kise ponder about their long-distance relationship with their respective partners, the struggles of being in a long-distance relationship. 

Rating: T 

Also on Ao3

Shintaro stirs from his sleep induced self. The sun rays are peeking through his window as his alarm clock starts to ring. Slowly, he tries to sit up and snooze the alarm, grabs his glasses with his right hand as well as putting it back on his face, also with his right hand. He removes his nightcap and stretches his arms for a bit before standing up and unveils the curtains. It is a nice and sunny day but Shintaro can’t help but feel that this is gonna be a good day for Cancers. Carefully, he goes downstairs and fixes himself some breakfast. 

He is living alone in a condominium now for two years after he has graduated high school. Ever since he is a child, he always knows that he has wanted to be a doctor although he has to give up playing basketball. During his last year in high school, he has been offered to go pro to America. However, his father is against it and tells him that he should go to medical school instead of playing on the big stage. He has been heartbroken by that time. The other members of the Generation of Miracles get an offer too. Aomine and Akashi are currently in America playing on the big stage as well as Murasakibara. In Kise’s case, he has decided not to go because it is his lifetime dream to be a pilot so he has persuaded it instead. 

The two of them, Kise and him, have been attending the same university and he doesn’t know how it happens but both of them become close, closer than they’ll ever be. Maybe it’s for the reason that they both give up their dream of playing in the big stage as well as the fact that they are both in a long-distance relationship with their partners. 

He should be used to it by now given the fact that he and Murasakibara have already been through that stage back in high school. Him, being in Tokyo and Murasakibara at Akita. However, the proof of his long lost absence is the fact that before, he is just one train away but now, he is on the other side of the world. He also notices that before, he can just call him anytime after school or practice but now, because of the time difference as well as their intense training being the contributing factors, they haven’t really talked that much and it makes him upset. He knows he doesn’t need to blame Murasakibara for he knows that the taller guy needs his rest too. But sometimes, he just can’t help but feel that he has already forgotten about him. If before, they couldn’t go on a day without talking or messaging each other, but now, they can go on weeks without talking or messaging each other. 

And he misses him so much that it hurts. 

-x-

His classes have just ended when he receives a text from Kise saying that he will come to his house once his class is done. He replies okay to him instead of his usual “die” because he, himself needs some time to unwind and Kise is the perfect friend for it because he knows how he feels, in fact. Quickly putting all his stuff inside his bag, he smoothly goes out of the room as he is bidding goodbye to his colleagues on the way. He stops by the grocery store to buy ingredients for dinner or else, both Kise and him will starve to death because the blonde doesn’t know how to cook, much less handle a knife. He has been bad at cooking before but now that he has been living alone, he manages to learn with the help of Takao because he has gotten so sick of eating to-go food and finally convinces himself that cooking is not too bad, in fact. 

When he gathers all the ingredients for Nikujaga, he pays for it and proceeds home. He enters his quiet place and kind of sinks into loneliness again. He misses his sister’s boisterous greeting as well as his Mom’s gentle yet sarcastic attitude. He closes his eyes for a bit, trying to whisk away his thoughts. He strides towards the kitchen and starts with the preparation of the dish. An hour later, when the scent of the Nikujaga is filling the air, his doorbell rings, signaling that Kise has arrived.

He is greeted enthusiastically by the blond as he makes himself feel at home. 

“Kise, dinner is going to be ready soon. I am just reducing it.”

“Thank you, Midorimachi! What did you cook?”

“Nikujaga. Wait here, in fact. I will grab drinks. Do you want soda or tea?”

“Soda please.” The blonde answers as he goes to the kitchen to prepare their drinks. He hears Kise sighs loudly from the living room. He frowns a bit. Knowing his long time friend, Kise seldom sighs unless he is really bothered by something. Quickly, he fixes their drinks and goes to his friend. He puts the drink in front of the blonde as he sits opposite him.

“Let me guess, Aomine?”

He looks up at him as he reaches for the soda while silently mutter thanks. He looks at his friend, trying to read him. His eyes are a little bit swollen and he has dark circles under his eyes.

“Tell me, Midorimachi, when was the last time you speak with Murasakibarachi?”

Shintaro stops and tightens the grip on his shiruko can and thinks. When was the last time I talk to him? Suddenly he remembers their conversation that is a month ago.

Shintarou is getting ready for bed after hours of studying for his midterm exam when he hears his phone buzzes. Already cursing who the caller is in this wee hours at night. He looks at the caller id and his heart skips a beat seeing his long time boyfriend’s name. With shaking hands, he answers the phone.

“Hello?”

“…Mido-chin? I’m glad you’re still awake.”

He tries to compose himself from saying everything on his mind. How come you only called now? I know you’re busy but can’t you see that my thoughts are filled with yours all the time? Why only call now? Why can’t we be like before? Why are you not here by my side? I’m getting frustrated because I don’t know what to do anymore.

How does this fool remain calm is definitely unthinkable when he has so many thoughts creeping in all the time. But instead, he answers in a calm manner as possible.

“I-I’m studying for my midterm exams and I just got done, in fact…How are you?”

He hears a long sigh from the other line before Murasakibara speaks, “…Mido-chin, I miss you.”

He tightens his hold on his phone, afraid of breaking out from all of his hidden emotions. “…Really?”

“Are you angry with me?”

“Why would I be angry?”

“Because we haven’t been talking for more than three weeks now.”

“Look, Murasakibara, I know you’re busy, in fact. You don’t need to feel guilty, in fact.”

“But…I want to talk to Mido-chin more.”

“I do too, in fact. Our time difference is a big factor and it’s not a walk in the park in the medical school as well. We both have our responsibilities and I don’t blame you for it, Murasakibara.”

He smiles as he hears the purple head munches on something, probably potato chips and lets out a heavy breath before speaking, “But Mido-chin, I want to cuddle with you! I want to see you so bad. The school here sucks and Mine-chin snores so loud! Training is also so hard! I wanna go back…”

“Murasakibara, what did you promise me before you leave?”

“…That I will see to it till the end? But Mido-chi-,” he cuts off his whine and says instead, “Didn’t you want to do it for me? That you’d reach my dream of being a pro in my stead?”

“…Fine. But keep your promise from me too, okay? Go sleep now, Mido-chin. I’ll go to school now. Love you~”

Suddenly, he feels his face getting hot by his statement. No matter how long they have been together, he can’t get used to Murasakibara conveying his feelings out of nowhere.

“F-Fool, of course, I will keep the promise. Behave at school and just sleep earlier than Aomine if he snores so loud, in fact.”

“Okay~ don’t you have something to say to me too?”

“What?”

A long-suffering sigh, “Can’t you drop your tsundere self for a bit?”

“S-Shut up, it’s not that I don’t want to say it, it’s just that you surprised me, in fact.”

“Really, Mido-chin? After all these years?”

“Tsk.”

“‘Kay, I won’t force you. Good night, Mido-chin.”

“W-Wait!…I..love..you too..”

Then he cuts off the call, not really waiting for Murasakibara’s reply because he knows that the taller boy will just tease him. Only for tonight, he will sleep with a peaceful mind.

After that, Murasakibara tries to call him at least every three days. And it is only this time that he’s been missing in action again as it drags on for two weeks without calling each other because the latter has a training camp.

“Two weeks ago, before he goes on a training camp.”

Kise gapes at him and asks, “Is Aominechi with him?”

“I think so, in fact.”

Kise slams his hand on the table with an obvious fury. Shintaro just looks at the blonde with bewilderment but reprimanded him nonetheless. “Kise, stop taking out your anger on my table.”

“T-That Ahomine….he hasn’t been calling me for a month! He didn’t even tell me that he’s going on a training camp!”

“Maybe he’s busy, in fact?”

“Midorimachi! He’s in America! Most of the ladies there are well endowed! What if he is cheating with me? What if he will get someone pregnant? Oh my gosh!!!!”

He tries to calm his friend down who is getting hysterical. I’m surrounded by idiots.

“Kise, calm down! I don’t think that Aomine is capable of doing that, in fact.”

Kise wails as he jumps to him and cries on his chest. Shintaro, being the tsundere that he is, is lost on how to calm the blonde down. He thinks that he can already pacify Kise in his every mood but he is too naive to think that. He groans painfully as he awkwardly pats Kise’s head for comfort. He waits for the blond to finally calm down before he lets go of him, helps him stand up and seats him comfortable at the couch. He goes to the kitchen to get him water and also check the Nikujaga. Once he sees that it is ready, he takes out two sets of plates and utensils and arranges the table. He calls Kise and he is thankful that the blonde is being obedient in spite of his outburst earlier. Together, they eat in silence. However, the blonde is still sniffing his tears. Not taking it anymore, Shintaro finally speaks.

“You know, you just have to trust on Aomine, in fact.”

“H-How? I mean, we don’t talk much. As well as you and Murasakibarachi.”

“Let’s just say that Murasakibara and I made a promise with each other.”

Kise’s ears perk up and divert his full attention to him.

“What is it?”

“It’s only between the two of us, in fact.”

“You know, Midorimachi, I don’t know how you do it but all these times, you’ve been in a long-distance relationship but have you ever thought of giving up? It’s hard to maintain.”

“Yes, it is, in fact. However, we both trust each other and I also know that Murasakibara is too lazy to flirt with others. I trust him that’s why I don’t have to know what he is doing all the time, in fact. Knowing his personality, he doesn’t want to be oppressed by what he wants to do. Although sometimes it makes me upset because I yearn for his presence but I can’t do anything about it, he is on the other side of the globe. It is hard to wait, in fact. I’ve thought a number of times that he might have been forgotten about me. I won’t even deny that, but as long as I know that his feelings are still the same, then I don’t have anything to worry about. It’s just harder now because of the time difference.”

He looks at the blonde who is in deep thinking. He speaks again in order to gain his companion’s attention, “I won’t say to you to do the same but you just have to trust Aomine. After all, you know him better than I do, in fact.”

Finally, he sees the blonde smile and looks at him, “Thank you, Midorimachi. But wow, I never knew you felt that way. You just look at me with a sour face every time I talk to you about my problem.”

He pushes his glasses up as he tries to hide his face from embarrassment of being pointed out, “S-Shut up, Kise! It’s not because you need some advice that I said that. I’m saying that because I don’t want you to have another outburst again, in fact.”

He hears the blonde chuckles as he continues to eat his dinner, “Whatever, Midorimachi! Such a tsundere~”

“Shut up and eat!”

-x-

It has been a week since his heartfelt conversation with Kise and he still cringes every time he thinks about it. Given, he just wants to cheer his friend up but it doesn’t occur to him that he will embarrass himself in the process. They still meet up regularly though, sometimes for coffee or for dinner. It has also been three weeks since he last hears from his lazy boyfriend. He is kind of worried if the taller boy hasn’t been taking care of himself lately. He misses him so much that even hearing his voice and making sure that he’s alright is enough to ease his worries.

And now, Valentines’ Day has arrived and Kise and himself have decided to have dinner together after school. Both of them have been feeling pensive. For the last two years, it is always been the two of them who spend the cursed day together in order to diminish their thoughts of their far-away partners, even for a while. Usually, they just go about the good old days and talk about senseless things. Throughout the years, Shintaro has learned by now that he has to be more open with other people but he only has a few of them who he can fully open up with and one of them is Kise.

After their class, they have met up with each other and go to a fancy Italian restaurant. They have accidentally met with Hayama Kotaro and Miyaji Kiyoshi in the middle of the date in the same restaurant, much to the dismay of his old senpai. Kise has been animatedly talking to Hayama and tries to pull him away as he can see the displeased expression of his senpai for being interrupted. They bid their goodbye and proceeded to have their own little world. 

After they’re done with their dinner, they both decide to separate since Kise has an early shoot tomorrow and he needs his beauty rest, much to the annoyance of Shintaro. But accepts it nonetheless. But before he goes on his way, Kise stops him and tells him, “Happy Valentine’s, Midorimachi! I’m glad you’re here. Didn’t even think we’d be this close thinking back.”

Shintaro gives him a small smile and turns around, afraid that Kise might see his ears getting red. “My pleasure as well, in fact. Take care.”

They both go on their own way with a smile plastered on their faces.

When Shintaro gets into his condominium complex, he noticed a capped boy crouching in front of his door. He can only make up his appearance from far away and also notices a big duffle bag by the mystery man’s feet. As he moves nearer, his heart is suddenly pumping faster as he fully recognizes the looming figure. The boy then looks at his direction when he senses his nearing footsteps and stands up, removes his cap to show his face and smiles lazily at him.

The man waiting for him is none other than Murasakibara Atsushi. His hair is longer and he has gotten a few inches taller yet again. His face is not quite the same for he has lost some baby fats on his cheeks and it makes him quite mature and more dashing, in fact. He still wears that bored expression but his purple irises are twinkling when he finally sees him.

And Shintaro can’t help his tears flowing freely from his eyes for it has been too long since he last sees him.

With heavy steps, Murasakibara moves closer to his side and hugs him tightly, “..Mido-chin, I miss you…” He whispers as he buries his head on the top of his head as he does the same but on the crook of his neck and inhales the always present smell of lavender and candy. They stay like that for a whole minute until they let go of each other and gaze lovingly at each other.

“W-What are you doing here, in fact?”

“They gave us two weeks of vacation after that intense training camp, so here I am, Mido-chin.” He takes Murasakibara’s arm like a kid and pulls him inside his condominium. He motions the taller boy to sit and he dashes straight to the kitchen to prepare tea as well as to calm himself down. He serves him the tea and he chooses to sit on the opposite single couch and looks at him, still not believing the fact that he is, in fact, here in front of him.

The taller boy sips on his tea and scrunches his face because of the bitterness. “Ne, Mido-chin, can you serve me anything sweet? You know bitter tea is not really to my liking.”

He still keeps his straight face as he continues staring at him as Murasakibara awkwardly squirms under his gaze.

“Ne, Mido-chin, are you not gonna say anything?”

“Y-you…why?”

“Eh? ‘Coz I miss you, isn’t it enough?” The taller boy’s face is crestfallen as he tries to steady himself without breaking out in another tear. True, he is anticipating the day that they will see each other again but what he doesn’t know is that his body will be a traitor like this. He has so many words to say and yet, here he is, being rooted in his place, unable to speak what is meant to be spoken.

He rolls his fist into a ball and forcefully tightens it as he gazes at the boy opposite him and tries to speak. He really wishes that he can be like Murasakibara who doesn’t have any qualms speaking his mind in the most direct way.

“I-I..I’m speechless…I didn’t think you’d appear now.”

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s Valentines’ Day. It’s been too long since I celebrated it with you.” He pulls out something from his duffle bag and Shintaro just looks at him. Suddenly, a surprise is written all over his face as he sees a Kerosuke plushie holding a chocolate bar in between his chest. Murasakibara then slowly walks until he is in front of him, kneels and hands out the plushie as he is looking up to him.

“Happy Valentines’ Day, Mido-chin~”

He blushes as he tries to avoid looking at Murasakibara’s eyes but accepted the gift nonetheless.

“Y-You….”

Murasakibara just smiles sluggishly at him and says, “Don’t I even get a welcome kiss?”

“S-Shut up, you imbecile! How am I supposed to react when you caught me off guard?”

“Eh??? No need to react so excitedly. After all, Mido-chin is Mido-chin. And comes with being Mido-chin is being a tsundere.”

Slowly, he moves his left hand to reach for his face and suddenly pinches his cheek hard, thinking that it will wake him up from this dream. After all, this isn’t the first that he dreams of Murasakibara being here with him. When he feels the stinging pain, that is the only time when he finally wakes up from being rooted.

“I’m really not dreaming, you are really here.”

“…Yes?” He sees the confusion on Murasakibara’s face as Shintaro abruptly bends his head down and gives the taller boy a sweet kiss.

“I promise you, I will wait for you no matter how it takes. Happy Valentines’ Day, Atsushi.” He murmurs on his lips after the sweet kiss, not breaking any contact as Murasakaibara speaks.

“And so do I.”

Omake

The next day, Shintaro wakes up because he feels his whole body is numb. He opens his eyes only to see that Murasakibara has yet again, made him his human pillow as his long limbs and arms are encasing him. He smiles as he studies the sleeping face of his boyfriend. It’s been a while since I’ve seen this. He is still drooling in his sleep.

Slowly, he tries to unravel himself from his strong grip but it seems to be futile. He thanks the heavens that today is Saturday and that he doesn’t have any school. With a struggle, he tries to reach for his glasses on his nightstand using his right hand and puts it back on his face. He then hears his phone buzzes and reaches for it as well. He flips it open and reads Kise’s message but instantly wants to throw his phone away after. He replies to Kise angrily and puts back his phone on the nightstand and just decides to cuddle with his big plushie today and no one can stop Shintaro from doing that.

What is Kise’s message you ask?

To: Midorimachi (つ▀¯▀)つ

From:  Kise Ryouta

Subject: OMFG

Message: Midorimachiiiiii Ｏ(≧∇≦)Ｏ Aominechi is here~ I heard from him that Murasakibarachi went straight to your condominium right after they got out of the airport…Aominechi surprised me as well~ σ(≧ε≦ｏ) Omg I am so happy! You should be happy as well! Let’s meet up for dinner tonight at the usual place? I won’t take no for an answer! See you both later at 7! (╯✧∇✧)╯

P.S. Did you get some good v-day sexy time? (ﾉ≧∀≦)ﾉ

To: Kise Ryouta

From:  Midorimachi (つ▀¯▀)つ

Re: Subject: WTF

Message: DIE, KISE

NOTE: AAAAAH OMG IT IS REALLY DONE! THANK YOU ALL <3

[moeruhoshi]

Tell me what you think pleeeeeease

“Good morning,” Natsu mumbled, quickly slipping on his surgical mask as he turned over to face the creak of the door opening, an older woman with long white hair and a similar mask entering as she balanced a silver tray in her hands. “Pills before breakfast? That’s a new one, Mira.”

“Laxus is just running a bit behind with the breakfast cart, so make sure you––” The younger boy cut her off with a wave of his hand and a curt nod before finishing her sentence.

“Eat before I take my medication, I know, I know. You think I would’ve had it down by now. It’s not like I haven’t lived here for seven years,” 

“Mister know it all, telling me that isn’t going to stop me from reminding you. Let it be the one day I don’t remind you to eat first and your stomach doesn’t absorb these properly,”

“To receive a scolding from Mira this early in the morning, you must’ve forgotten to watch your mouth, Dragneel,” Laxus chuckled as he leaned his shoulder against the door, propping it open while he wheeled in the aforementioned breakfast cart.

“Sweet, waffles! My favorite! You always know to get me the good stuff, big guy. I appreciate it.”

“That’ll be the last time I make them too if you don’t learn how to treat my wife,” His eyes spoke with a joking glare, Natsu unable to see what ever twist of his lip was hidden under the white sheet. He felt a nervous shiver crawl up his spine at the sight, nodding rapidly in his submissive response. If not for the terrifying glare, he was afraid of what those overgrown muscles could do to him. Weight training was a frightening hobby.

“Ugh, I got it, I got it! Please don’t pretend to kiss like that in front of me,” Natsu refused to look as they Eskimo-kissed through the thin sheet dividing their noses, both supplying a stream of fake giggles as they dramatized their display of affection.

As they made their way out of his room, Natsu was left with the sound of his air purifying machine and fork scratching against the plate as he cut into his meal were all to keep him company, but he didn’t mind the silence much.

Seven years in this place...it’d been so long since he’d been home, but this was his home too. Magnolia Central Hospital, seventeenth floor, room 702. It reminded him of his street, 72017 Cat Tail Way, what an uncanny coincidence. But it made him feel like this was coming, it wasn’t like people went out of their way to catch tuberculosis afterall. It was a fluke, a total mistake that had to catch him in its ugly clutches. 

His family got caught up in a car accident, t-boned by another car speeding through a red light one night. His parents were fine for the most part, but since Natsu was in the back, he took on more force of the crash. He bled a lot, his parents cried a lot, all the way to the hospital as they all sat in the back of the ambulance. A blood transfusion saved his life but ended it all the same; tainted with HIV.

“Why him?! Natsu doesn’t deserve this kind of thing! He’s––he’s a good kid for heaven’s sake! If we had only––if only we’d seen that man!” His mother screamed on the opposite side of his bedroom door. Natsu clutched the red dragon he always slept with tighter in his young arms, clenching his eyes shut tightly as he tried his best to ignore what went on outside of his room. 

“This isn’t a bad person’s disease, Grandine, you know that! You need to calm down before we wake Natsu up, please...I know he didn’t deserve this, I know...but we’ll get through it, we always do, don’t we?”

He wasn’t a bad person, what seven-year-old was? But whether he or his parents wanted to keep things as normal as possible for him, schools didn’t want to put the other kids at risk. Home-schooling became normal for him, as well as staying indoors since none of the other parents wanted their kids near him. Kids were kids, germs always seemed to pass around quickly even if parents instructed proper hygiene rules, no one wanted to take that risk. Natsu understood well enough as well, he didn’t want anyone else to get sick. 

It became normal for the Dragneel family by the time a year had passed, Grandine now a stay at home mom that taught and took care of their son while Igneel worked and brought home the bacon. 

“I’m home!” Igneel called out one day as he made his way through the front door, expecting a call back from his wife and their small son to rush forward and greet him with a hug. The strange silence in response had him confused for a moment, the lights were on and he definitely smelled dinner cooking. 

“Alright...you two know I don’t like surprises, what’s going on?” He chuckled and shook his head, walking through the hall to enter the kitchen through the dining room on the left. The stove had been turned off but there was a pot of stew still simmering down from a boil. The mystery took him to the living room where he heard the T.V playing some cartoon or other; maybe they just hadn’t heard him over the show? 

“Gotcha!” The Dragneel father grinned as he shouted through the doorway, bouncing in it as he attempted to scare the members of his family surely sitting on the couch. A random kids show was on, but there was still no one to be found. “This...This isn’t funny...you guys know not to––”

As Igneel approached the back of the couch, his voice caught harshly in his throat, the rapid pumping of his heart now loud in his ears. There on the marble flooring was an unsightly puddle of throw-up and blood. It was second before he was out the door and speeding back into his car, why hadn’t he noticed his wife’s car missing before?!

They were found at the hospital, Grandine in hysterics as she finally gathered her senses in the arms of her husband listening to the doctor's words. Tuberculosis. Their son had tuberculosis. And there was no telling when he would be better.

So now he had this room, covered in posters of his favorite bands and random drawings, pictures with his best friend and some with the nurses, others with his parents. He could walk about certain floors freely but had to keep his mask on no matter what and live with that delightful humming of the air purifying machine. 

“Gray,” Natsu grinned as he called his friend through a video chat, angering the boy who had yet to wake up naturally. “You up yet?”

“Obviously, otherwise I wouldn't have answered. What did I tell you about waking me up before nine?”

“Just because the nurses are nice and enter your room without waking you up before eight doesn’t mean I have to. So, what did Laxus make for you?”

“Not telling, wouldn’t want you to be jealous of the special treatment I get from him,” The raven-haired boy said with a tired smirk as he pulled himself up from the familiar light blue sheets. 

“Shut up, I got waffles too, you’re not the only one that gets the good stuff. But I can’t for the life of me understand why you like your breakfast cold,” Natsu squirmed at the thought of such steamy food going to waste and faltering to the soggy state his best friend liked so much. 

“We’ve been over this, it’s just a personal preference. Nothing like you putting tabasco on your eggs.”

“That’s a proven, world-wide agreed, flavor. You’re the weirdo here,”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that. Anyways, what’s on our agenda today? Another game of Uno™? Although, I don’t think you can make a comeback after my last triple skip and draw four. Fucking slayed you, my guy.”

“You wanna say that to my face? I’ll take you on, day or night, it doesn’t matter. But we’ve got plans, remember? Juvia wants to play dress-up with us today, and you’ve already canceled on her four times. We’re going.” Natsu said matter of factly as he stuffed his mouth with another forkful of Belgien fluffiness. 

“Oh, come on, it wasn’t like I did it on purpose, getting a fever is a totally legit reason to cancel plans. No way Mira would let me leave my room if I told her I got sick. Juvia catches stuff pretty easy too, I don’t need that on my mind.”

“Suuuuure. Definitely has nothing to do with the fact that she wants to marry you, right?”

The call quickly went silent and Natsu cackled with his head thrown back, careful not to choke on the orange juice he’d just taken a swig of. 

“Knew it, that liar,” He rolled his eyes and finished off the rest of his meal before taking the daily medications prescribed to him. 

It wasn’t long before he was dressed and standing in front of Gray’s room with a thicker mask held on around his ears, repeating a constant knock on the door as he beckoned his friend to come out.  Dressed in the sweats he loved more than life, the two made their way to the elevator after checking in with Mira at the front desk. 

Gray needed a heart transplant, had had at least three since his parents found out he had a congenital heart condition. The ones he got never seemed to last as long as everyone hoped, but it didn’t keep him down. He was in and out of the hospital, only lasting a span of six months before his body became too weak again and he needed the constant care provided in a hospital. 

Their ride was full of silent jabbing as Natsu looked at Gray with a sly and raised brow, nudging him with his elbow as he attempted to tease him. 

“I have an eight-year-old in love with me but it’s still not as lame as the guy who dyed his hair pink for fun,” He sneered, poking at the gelled style with dark roots growing back in.

“You’re just mad that you can’t pull off such a nice color, it’s only cool if you wear it right,” Natsu smirked and swatted at him. “Bet you that Juvia’s gonna ask if you brought her ring with you yet.”

“Oh god...please, not again…”

“Gray! Natsu! You came to my tea party!” The young girl lit up as the two walked into the playroom located in the cancer ward, there sat a table in the corner with three cups, a tray of random sliced fruit, and some cubes of bread and poundcake settled on its surface.

“We got your invitations,” Natsu’s grin showed through his eyes as he waved the pink envelope he’d settled in his back pocket ahead of time. “Thank you, it’s been a while since either of us has been anywhere as fancy as this.”

“Y-Yeah, really appreciate it,” Gray let an uneasy smile through as she beamed expectedly at the older boy, her eyes entirely infatuated with his presence. He was never great when it came to talking with kids. 

“I’m wearing the scarf you gave me, Gray, isn’t it cute?” She pointed to the blue wrap with snowflakes that hid the loss of her hair, wearing a blue dress to match. Blue, his favorite color, and now hers.

“Really cute, Juvia.” He said and pat her head, Natsu nodding as he accepted the polite behavior of his stoic friend. 

“So, what kind of tea are we having today?” The pink-haired boy asked as he took a seat, moving his head for Gray to acknowledge he needed to pull Juvia’s seat out for her. 

“U-Um, I’m not sure! I’ll go look in the drees up chest for your hats, so you pour it yourself. And I won’t look if you put something––I mean, pour my tea for me!”

“What’d I tell you! She always does that, isn’t it the cutest?” Natsu laughed as they finally made their way back up to their own floor after a very intense party where the young girl truly waited for her marriage proposal. 

“Having fun over there? How would you like it if someone tried to force you into marriage at such a young age? What kind of movies has that girl been watching, I swear…” Gray grumbled with a sigh and crossed his arms.

“Just say yes, where’s the harm? It’ll make her happy.”

“You know where it is. I’m not going to promise something like that, it brings bad luck,”

Bad luck...yeah, it was smart to be careful when it came to personal feelings for them. They were told to be optimistic, but you never really knew what could happen. There was the daunting thought of the day that you finally gave in and let yourself say the thing you were holding back, only for it all to come crashing down around you. Death was always lurking, and Natsu had a personal encounter with it.

“You sure you’re allowed to be walking around like this, Lucy? Doesn’t it break some cosmic rule, letting a mortal see you and all?” Natsu asked as he laid back in his bed, the curtains drawn open and the moonlight shining down on the two as they spoke in the middle of the night. In the chair next to his bed sat a girl with soft blonde locks and solemn brown eyes, wearing her usual black clothes and a scythe resting against the wall behind her.

“I told you, it’s fine. Not much I can do after you saw me by accident.” She sighed, eyes glued to his phone screen as she played Tertris™. 

“Don’t you have some kind of mind wipe thing? I figured that was a given. And I’m pretty sure you only wanted an excuse to play that game,” He grinned as his chin rested on his knees, happy he didn’t have to wear that stuffy mask when he was around her, the Grimm Reaper’s daughter. 

They met by chance one night after Natsu went on a pudding raid on the senior floor, catching sight of her leading a soul to safety. 

It was a pretty magnificent sight, to say the least after he found out it wasn’t some wackjob trying to off the elderly. 

“That’s what everyone thinks,” She rolled her eyes, but really, the only thing I do is guide souls to their rightful place.”

“And play on my phone. I’m going to write this in a book one day, I hope you know. ‘Grimm Reaper’s daughter ~ The Saga. The subtitle, she plays Tetris™  on her breaks.” He said, spreding his hands in the air for emphasis. 

“No one would read that, I hope you know,”

“What are you talking about? That’s just gonna be the title of my diary, I don’t need the Bigfoot chasers breaking down my door and asking me to confirm their sightings of a weird murdering ax girl who likes to play video games.”

“I’m not weird,” She spat and huffed with a pout, ignoring him as he snickered. “Nice, next level!”

“Don’t you have work to do? Not that I’m rooting for it,” Natsu asked as she finally looked up from his phone, her lips falling into a slight frown. 

“I was trying to avoid this,” She sighed, and rolled her head back, tossing his phone onto his bed. “I’ve got to take Gray,”

“Wha––wait, no, you can’t. I mean it Lucy, I know it’s your job but you really can’t.” He shot up quickly, wide eyes in a panic as he tried to plead with the immortal god. “He’s my...he’s my only friend! My best friend! I just saw him, he was fine! And Juvia...Juvia need’s him more than anyone, he’s her first love!”

“I can let you say goodbye, but really, I have to take him.”

[rulesofthebeneath]

masters of our fates- chapter 2

@ajaysbhandari @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @awkwardalbatros @ravenclawpokegirl25 @itsbrindleybinch

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21706489/chapters/51862954

As soon as Ajay merged onto the highway, he pressed the button that turned on the radio. It was tuned to talk radio, but before Grace could side-eye him he quickly switched over to the CD player, which instantly started playing a song off the Wicked soundtrack. It was Grace’s turn to raise her eyebrows.

“You like musicals?” she asked.

“Love them,” he replied. He started humming along with the singers.

“Me too,” Grace admitted. “I cried the first time I saw Wicked.”

Ajay bit his lip. “Did you do theatre? Pre-diagnosis, I mean.”

“Oh, I was such a diva. There was no getting me out of the spotlight,” Grace recalled with a laugh. 

“I think I saw that part of you in support group,” Ajay said. “You were zoned out for most of it, but it seemed like whenever I said something you had to steal my spotlight.” He smiled so she’d know he was teasing, but she still felt a wave of insecurity go through her.

“Yeah, I… don’t know what that was all about. I’m sorry for interrupting you.”

Ajay shook his head. “No, don’t apologize. Sometimes I need to be put in my place.”

Grace snorted, but didn’t say anything further. They rode along, listening to the song, until the song switched, and Ajay apparently couldn’t contain himself to just humming anymore.

“One short day in the Emerald City…” he sang along with the chorus on the soundtrack. As soon as Grace turned to look at him, he raised his eyebrows: a clear invitation.

She rolled her eyes, but caved in.

“One short day in the Emerald City. One short day, full of so much to do,” she sang along shyly, fully aware that her weakened voice couldn’t compare with his, or with what he was used to hearing.

But he didn’t seem to care.

“Every way that you look in the city, there’s something exquisite you’ll want to visit before the day’s through,” he sang, his eyes trained on the road but a stunning grin spreading across his face. 

“There are buildings tall as Quoxwood trees,” Grace sang again, hesitantly.

“Dress salons,” Ajay added, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Libraries,” Grace half-laughed.

“Palaces!” Ajay squeaked, imitating Glinda’s peppy voice, and Grace lost the next line to a fit of giggles.

“There are wonders like I’ve never seen,” Ajay sang next, recovering more quickly than Grace could.

“It’s all grand,” sang Grace, her voice cracking on the top note. In the embarrassment, she lost her breath, and with it all focus on the singing.

Ajay noticed, and kept one eye on her careful breathing as he merged off the highway. He turned the music down, but not all the way off.

Grace tried to stop herself from audibly gasping for air, but it was a close thing. She didn’t want Ajay to see her like that, so weak.

Damn lungs, she thought to herself. Embarrassing her in front of somebody she found herself really wanting to impress, for some reason.

He pulled into the diner’s parking lot, and looked over at her. She could feel the concern in his gaze, and without looking at him, she waved him off while taking carefully controlled breaths from her cannula.

“I’m… fine… not… dying…” she said between breaths, and relief crossed Ajay’s face.

“Do you need anything? Um, water or something?”

He was clearly out of his depth.

“No… just… one… second…” Grace said, still wheezing slightly. She gripped the edge of the seat tightly as she tried to force the air into her lungs, tried to keep their pathetic wheezing and trembling to a minimum. It took her more than the one second she’d asked for, but eventually her lungs were back under autonomous control.

She sat up and saw Ajay looking at her, pity clear on his face.

“No,” she said, her voice embarrassingly faint but her will strong enough to make up for it. She cleared her throat. “No,” she said again. “None of that. Do you like it when people look at you like that when they find out about your leg?”

“I-- no,” Ajay conceded, shifting his gaze away from her. “I’m sorry. I was just worried.”

“I’m fine,” Grace said, her guard shooting back up. “No need to worry.”

“Okay.” With that, Ajay got out of the car. Grace followed suit, and the two walked into the diner and were seated as soon as they got there by an older lady. They each ordered hot tea and a stack of pancakes, and then Grace saw Ajay’s eyes fixed on her again.

“What?”

“Does that happen a lot?” he asked.

Grace sighed. “Not anymore. It used to happen a ton before I started taking the medicine I’m on now.”

“Oh,” he said. 

Grace looked down at her hands. She tried to figure out how to break the tension, but eventually it was Ajay speaking up again that did it.

“So, anyways. Grace. What’s your last name?”

It was clear he was just fishing around for something to say, but Grace decided to humor him.

“Lee,” she said. “Short and sweet. What’s yours?”

“Bhandari,” he said. “Neither short nor sweet. Do you have any siblings?”

“My twin brother goes to Berry,” she said. “He was running against Rory for student body president last year. Now he’s VP.”

“Oh, you’re James’ sister?” 

“Um. Yes?” she said, a question masking the surprise in her words. “How do you know my brother?”

“I don’t know him well, it’s just that I was Rory’s campaign manager,” he said. 

“Oh, so you’re who I have to thank for all the times he woke me up in the middle of the night to brainstorm campaign ideas.”

Ajay laughed. “Only if that means you’re who I have to thank for his pool noodle sword fight during Rory’s flash mob,”

Grace giggled. “Guilty as charged. Now, do you have any siblings?”

“My little brother, Mohit.”

“How old is he?”

“He’s eight.”

“Wow, that’s quite the age difference.”

“Yeah, really. Sometimes it almost feels like he’s my nephew or something, not my brother. I guess once we’re older it’ll stop feeling like that, but since I basically parented him most of last year…” he trailed off, a guarded look on his face. 

They sat in silence while Grace tried desperately to find something to ease the tension.

“Taking care of your brother and running a campaign during your junior year, sounds stressful,” she said with a half-hearted smile.

He loosened up a little.

“It was. I’m glad the school year is over, even though I really do like school. It was just hard to keep up with everything. Especially math.”

“You don’t like math?” Grace asked, an eyebrow raised. 

“More like math doesn’t like me,” Ajay mumbled, punctuating the sentence with a self-deprecating laugh.

It was a nice laugh.

Shut up, Grace told her brain.

“Enough about me,” Ajay said. “Tell me about you. What’s your story?”

Grace sighed.

“Well, I was diagnosed with stage four thyroid cancer when I was thirteen, and then–”

He cut her off. “No, no, not your Cancer Story. Just your normal story.”

“My normal story?”

“Yeah. Like where you were born, what your hopes and dreams are, your favorite color, things like that.”

Grace was bewildered. Nobody had asked her that in a while. Nowadays, they just saw her cannula and wanted to know why she had to use it. A warm, genuine smile grew on her face, and a giddy bubbly feeling rose up inside her.

“Uh, well, where do I start? I was born in England,” she said, watching his carefully neutral expression.

“England?” he asked, an eyebrow raised and a slight tinge of surprise. “I didn’t know you guys were British.”

“My parents aren’t, just me and James. Our birth parents died when we were really young and our other relatives gave us up for adoption.”

“Oh, you’re adopted. I guess that makes sense. I was about to say that you don’t have an accent at all.”

“Nope, no accent for me. I always kind of thought that would be cool to have a British accent.”

“You’d certainly be able to do a lot of Shakespeare,” Ajay remarked.

Grace nodded. “I never really got the hang of Shakespeare. Or British accents, for that matter.”

“It’s definitely hard to master. So, you said that you used to act?”

“Yes, and I was a complete spotlight hog,” Grace said. “You can ask Rory. I used to make James watch little plays that Rory and I wrote when we were kids. I don’t think they’ve ever forgotten the roles that I’d force them into.”

The waitress reappeared then, holding two plates of delicious-looking pancakes. Grace dug in eagerly, the hunger from not eating breakfast that morning overtaking her.

“So what about you?” Grace asked Ajay through a mouthful of pancakes. “What do you do? Besides hating math.”

“I’m actually the director of the shows we do at Berry,” he said, neatly cutting his pancakes into squares. “I’ve always loved directing, and it’s really great of the theatre teacher to let me have so much control over the productions. I do some directing outside of school, too.”

“Wait, you’re the Berry High student director?” Grace asked, surprised.

“Yeah?”

“So you’re the one who convinced the school to use the play as a fundraiser for Rory’s mom.”

Ajay started to look a little sheepish. “Yes, that was me.”

“Wow, Ajay,” Grace said, her admiration for him growing tenfold. “I don’t think I have to tell you how much that helped them.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he said, his face turning red. “I mean, obviously it was a big deal for the Silvas, but it was the least I could do. A family friend selflessly helped us out when I was first getting used to my new leg, so it was only fair to pass the kindness on.”

Grace cocked her head, studying him. His eyes were trained on the table, his hands busying themselves with the pancakes. It was clear that he hadn’t started the fundraiser so he could get recognition, but that he actually had genuinely wanted to help someone in need. 

You don’t see that much anymore, Grace thought. The world needs more people like that.

Ajay must have felt her eyes on him, so he looked up and matched her gaze at last.

“What?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” Grace countered, a little embarrassed to have been caught staring. “You were staring at me during the whole meeting.”

“Ah, yes. Well at first it was because you were new, because I’ve never seen you in group before. Then by the end, it was because you’d challenged me and argued with me.”

“I’m still sorry about that.”

“I still don’t want you to be sorry about it,” Ajay said. “I like that. I like people who aren’t afraid of talking about the hard stuff.”

Grace shrugged. “Well, when you’ve been dying for three years straight, it’s hard to have a filter about stuff like death. Thinking about that stuff is as natural as a heartbeat for me.”

“Me too,” Ajay admitted, “but I think that’s less because of the cancer and more because I spent middle school stumbling around in a depressive haze.”

“That’s what I do now,” Grace said with a slight grin. “That’s why James told me to go get a life. He’s tired of me just sitting around the house binge-watching reality TV.”

“And your version of getting a life is hanging around some stuck-up director from support group?”

Grace rolled her eyes, casting her eyes around the diner as she tried to come up with a response. The only feeling she could register was nostalgia, as she took in the tiled floor, the old-fashioned booths and the jukebox in the corner. 

“God, I miss this place,” she said without thinking.

“Oh, I know,” Ajay replied, stopping to take a sip out of his mug. “I think the old owners sold it a few years ago, and it just doesn’t quite have its old charm anymore.”

That’s my fault, Grace thought, and she bit her lip. She was the reason her parents had sold the diner, maybe even the reason they weren’t happy anymore. They tried to hide it from her, but she saw how exhausted her dad was after those long shifts. She saw the circles under her mom’s eyes that never went away.

She snapped back into the present and Ajay’s eyes were on her. He looked concerned, and she realized that he must have said something to her.

“Um…” she said, not knowing how to reply. 

“Nevermind,” Ajay said, shaking his head. 

Grace smiled shyly, appreciating the out. “So, should we split the check?”

“That seems fair,” Ajay agreed. The two examined the bill and paid for their respective parts at the register, and then before they knew it, they were back out in the oppressively hot afternoon.

Grace looked down at her hands. “I don’t want to go home yet,” she said. 

Ajay laughed. “Enjoying my company too much?”

“Enjoying the sunshine too much. I haven’t been outside in weeks.”

“Well, then I know where we have to go!” Ajay said, leading Grace towards his car.

She got in. “Is it the park?” she asked.

“I can’t share all my secrets,” he said again, causing Grace to roll her eyes.

A few minutes later, Ajay parked his car in a lot riddled with fallen twigs and green leaves.

“You brought me to the park,” Grace deadpanned.

“You wanted more sunshine,” Ajay pointed out. “I’m just trying to fulfill your request.”

Grace sighed and made for the park’s entrance, Ajay trailing behind her.

“So what was that? At the diner?”

“It was nothing.”

“It clearly wasn’t nothing,” Ajay argued back, cornering Grace in the conversation.

“I’ve already told you too much about myself.”

“That’s not true at all. Only once in our hour-long conversation did I see anything resembling an emotion.”

“Oh? When was that? You’ll have to tell me so I don’t do it again.”

Grace beelined for a bench, the small amount of walking having already exhausted her. Once she reached it, she tried not to collapse. Ajay sat down next to her, his eyes on her, his expression expectant. She knew exactly what he wanted to hear.

“My parents were the old owners of the Golden Griddle,” she said quietly. “They gave it up because they couldn’t afford both me and the restaurateur lifestyle.”

“Shit,” Ajay cursed quietly. “That’s… shit.”

“Yeah,” Grace said. “I took away their dreams. If I’d just died, yknow…”

“They’d have missed you,” Ajay said, and Grace had to admit he made a good point. But she wasn’t going to let him have that.

“They’d have gotten over it,” she said, and Ajay didn’t look like he had a response to that, so the conversation lapsed into silence.

“My parents are divorced,” he offered, out of the blue. “I know it’s because of me, even though they say it’s not.”

“Ajay, I’m sure it’s not--”

“It was because they were always arguing about money,” he said, cutting her off. “My chemo, radiation, surgeries and the new leg must’ve cost… I don’t even know.”

Grace pressed her lips together; it was her turn to not know what to say. She wrung her hands together, silent until he decided to speak again.

“So not only did I ruin their marriage, I also completely ruined Mohit’s life. He should be able to grow up with both his parents, but instead he only sees Dad on weekends. Objectively, I caused that to happen.”

“You can’t control the fact that you had cancer, though,” Grace pointed out. “And you can’t control the fact that the treatments cost a lot.”

“I should never have complained about my knee,” he said with a laugh. “That’s what got us into this mess. I should’ve just shut up about it.”

 “You would’ve died,” Grace said, slowly realizing how much she didn’t want that to happen.

Ajay shrugged. “And saved them a ton of medical expenses.”

“But if you’d died, it would’ve hurt Mohit. He’s so young, it wouldn’t be fair to put him through that.”

“You can’t say your family would get over your death and then turn around and say that to me, though. It’s the same thing. If my death would hurt my brother, your death would hurt your brother just as much.”

Grace huffed. “I guess. Sometimes I think, though, maybe it would’ve been better if I’d died a year or so ago. Before they got me into the clinical trial I’m on. They’re still paying a ton for my medication, and I’m still not getting any better. It seems like a waste of time and money because I’m still going to die young anyway.”

It took Ajay a few minutes to come up with a reply, but when he did, Grace almost smiled. Before long she found herself lost in the conversation, which jumped from morose topic to morose topic. By the time the sun set hours later, still sitting beside Ajay on the wooden park bench, she had gotten a little lost in him too.

It was freeing for a moment-- to do all those things normal teenagers did, get crushes and have friends and go out to the park-- until reality came crashing back to her. This was only temporary. She was just living on borrowed time, until her miracle drug stopped working, until the cancer spread to her brain and made her into a zombie. She couldn’t do that to him. But damn, having let her walls down for the first time was such a rush. Over the course of their conversation, she’d never felt so understood.

But he wasn’t dying, and she was. That was something that would always strain their relationship. So Grace turned it off. She shut down that part of her brain that made her want to giggle when he looked at her, that made her desperately want to reach out and put her hand on top of his.

“I have to get home,” she said abruptly. Ajay looked surprised, but he didn’t say anything until they’d gotten to the car. Grace walked a little slower than usual, under the excuse of being tired, but she really wanted to draw the night out longer, the one night where she had felt normal.

“At least give me your number,” he said. “It was nice to talk to someone who gets it. I don’t really talk to many other survivors, and it was a good conversation.”

Grace decided she’d allow herself that. A shining chance at feeling normal again. And if she was completely honest with herself, she couldn’t turn down the opportunity to talk to him again.

“Ok, fine, give me your phone.”

When he smiled, her dimmed world lit up just a little, but she ignored the way her heart skipped a beat. There wasn’t time for that.

By the time he pulled up at her house, though, her thoughts were pitch black again, so she had to shut them all out. It was her best coping strategy, a suit of armour to shield her from the gnawing pain the words could cause.

“Goodnight, Grace,” Ajay said, but she could barely hear him. 

“Goodnight,” she forced herself to say, and then she went into her house. Not having the energy to talk to her parents or James, she just forced a sleepy smile, told them she was tired, and headed off to her room. She locked the door, turned all the lights off, changed out her oxygen canister to one that would let her make it through the night, and tried not to think.

[tinyarmyofqueerfolkwrites]

Thank You, Taylor Swift

So, I’m going to put this under a cut, just given the sensitive nature of the post, and the fact it’s really long.

The very short, trigger free version, is that it’s a love letter to @taylorswift after listening to Lover for what feels like the millionth time and specifically why I relate so much to Soon You’ll Get Better. The part that references cancer, depression, and death is warned about with a clear, visible end. So it won’t just come up on anyone who reads this.

I’m not a big believer in finding romantic love. I’ve seen very little of it in my life, my parents have been fighting for as long as I can remember and that kind of darkness seems to have plagued my life. But that isn’t say I don’t believe it exists. I’m a writer and I have seen my characters fall in love. I have written love of all kinds, from platonic, to familial, to yes, even romantic love. As easy as it is written, it is infinitely harder to find, in my opinion.

I can say I’ve never been romantically in love. And that’s okay for me, for right now. I’m in a dark place in my life, have been for far longer than I sometimes want to think about, but I’m still moving. Part of why I’m still moving is because of my friends, of my chosen family, of the people who have been in my life to love me and to keep me going. That love means a lot to me. And so does this album.

It’s Nice To Have A Friend, as romantic as it ends, reminds me of the first friend I can truly say I could have loved romantically. He was my best friend from the ages of 11 to 17. He meant the entire world to me. We dated, sort of. It was secret and in the background, but he was there when my world first started falling apart. The song itself is sweet and soft and nice. It reminds me of Mary’s Song, which had been one of my favorite songs of the self titled album. Because, above all else, I love hearing about other people in love. 

Another song that reminds me of Nick, unfortunately, is Death By A Thousand Cuts. I spent a lot of time wrapped around his memory. Because he disappeared from my life. It was this weird period of my life and it hurt. I ended up losing a lot of people I thought were my friends, so to lose him too was too much. It hurt less because I loved him romantically and more because I he was my world in a lot of ways I didn’t know you could love another person.

I Forgot That You Existed is a song that now makes me think of him, and a few other “friends” that abandoned me at various points in my life. The people I’ve now forgiven and forgotten about enough to be able to remember the good times, and the bad, without getting hurt. It’s just indifference.

Paper Rings is the first song I definitely had to put on repeat. It’s so upbeat and honestly makes me just really happy. It’s a good dancing song, something to bounce around to and, in a sense, dream to. It reminds me of my sister and her boyfriend, honestly. They’re the first kind of proper romantic love I’ve ever really seen in my life. They are so sweet and understanding of each other and they just moved in together as a way to help my sister. She’s honestly thinking of proposing to him and it makes me really happy for her, and for them. He respects her and he respects me, which is something previous boyfriends of hers didn’t do. 

If you want to avoid the talk of cancer, death, and depression please skip down til you find the gif. Everything after that will be positive again, cos I refuse to end on a depressing note.

So, in December of 2018 my mother was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I was living with my sister, it was Christmas time, mother didn’t tell us until after Christmas. It was weird for us. We’ve never had a good relationship with our mom, for a number of reasons, so hearing she had cancer came weird. I don’t know if it was shock or something else, but a lot of it was “it’s not the kind of cancer we imagined she’d get” cos she’s a smoker, so we figured, if anything, it’d be lung cancer.

Flash forward to late January and I’ve returned home with my parents. Mother is sick and needs someone to watch out for her while my dad works. I don’t like being back in the family home, it’s messy and fuels my depression, which fuels my anger. It’s not a good attitude to have when trying to care for someone with cancer, I know this. I just can’t help it sometimes, though I try.

Shortly after my return, mother started chemo and she started going down hill. I stopped sleeping in my own room so I was close to her at night when she was most liable to fall and hurt herself. And she did. A lot. And every time I fought to pick her up. I fought to pick her and up and stop the bleeding. It’s a thankless job, I knew this coming into it, but I had no choice. She’s my mom. Yeah, I have a really bad relationship with her and this isn’t liable to change, but this is something I have to do.

So, the first however many times I listened to Soon You’ll Get Better I didn’t necessarily react. And then September 4th rolled around. My grandmother, who was the kind of woman who pushed through everything, had been diagnosed with cancer so many times and come back every time, died. I didn’t have a good relationship with her either, barely knew her, she barely knew me but she was the stubborn sort. She died in the early morning hours, before I’d even gone to bed. I’d ask her not to die on my birthday (the 5th) and she didn’t, but it was hard to take either way.

Later that day, on my way to Orlando, to celebrate my birthday, I had my mom stop at Target. I needed a physical copy of Lover in my hands and I’d never gotten a Target Exclusive version of Taylor’s albums before so I needed it. Happy birthday to me, right? Well, I decided I wanted to play Soon You’ll Get Better for my mom. I cried. It was the first time I’ve cried in a really long time. And I want to kinda talk about why.

In doctor's office lighting, I didn't tell you I was scared That was the first time we were there Holy orange bottles, each night, I pray to you Desperate people find faith, so now I pray to Jesus too

I went with my mom to a number of her appointments with her, including sitting through chemo with her on more than one occasion. I was raised in the church but as I’ve gotten older lost my faith, lost what it means to believe in a higher power. Because I’ve been hated on in churches, being queer and trans. But in all of this I’ve re-found parts of my faith. 

I know delusion when I see it in the mirror You like the nicer nurses, you make the best of a bad deal I just pretend it isn't real

Something I’ve always done, something I got from my mother, is you take the bad things and you shove them under the rug. You forget they exist and I hate to say it, it’s what I’ve been doing. To whatever extent I can. Because I don’t know what I’m supposed to do if I don’t, y’know?

And I hate to make this all about me But who am I supposed to talk to? What am I supposed to do If there's no you?

It’s hard to explain that fear, thinking about what life would be like if she dies. Because as bad as my relationship with my mom is, she’s one of the only pieces of sanity I have close. I mean this in the sense that I talk to my mom a lot, about a lot of stupid stuff, and sometimes about deep stuff. Maybe I do it because I know she won’t remember all of it, or any of it, cos our conversations often happen late at night, but I do it. I talk to her and I don’t know who I’ll talk to like that if she doesn’t get better. 

Part of why I’m writing this is because she might not. My mom has a lot of health risks, things that make operating for the cancer dangerous. It’s another reason why my sister and I were surprised when they said she had pancreatic cancer. We found out today that while the surgeon is willing, she’s high risk. Being high risk, the anesthesiologist might deem her too risky. That, despite all of this, she may not be able to get the surgery to remove the tumor. She hasn’t had chemo since May because she’s been too sick and too weak. It’s possible that if they can’t do the surgery, she won’t be able to do chemo again either to keep in check. 

That’s hard to take, for all of us and part of me just wants to put Soon You’ll Get Better on repeat because what else can I do? I’ve done what I can but it’s just not enough. 

So, that’s the long winded explanation of why I love that song and relate to it so much. And, cos I probably made anyone reading this cry:

Now to try and end this on a much more positive note.

A lot of the songs on the album that I don’t necessarily have proper connections to, that I still love deeply. Cruel Summer, You Need To Calm Down and Me! have this vibe that makes me want to dance, flat out. I go way too hard to the bridge in Cruel Summer. Like, it’s just one of those things I do and I do so apologetically.

London Boy, Daylight,  Cornelia Street and Lover are dreamer songs. Songs that make me believe that love does exist in a romantic sense. That when things are rough and tumblr, I can listen to and feel better, cos at least for someone out there a love like that exists. One that is bright and brilliant and still so very soft. They’re also really good songs to dance to. Like, this album really is full of bops.

So, Taylor, should you take the time to read this long post by a random person on the internet, thank you. Thank you for Lover. Thank you for the truth. Thank you for being you. This album has been such a bright spot in my life right now. I take joy in the little things and I take a lot of joy out of this not-so-little thing. This album makes my heart happy, even in the dark and it’s a beautiful thing. 

Love, 

Charlie (they/he)