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creativeashproductions · 4 years

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Lost Time II // Luke Patterson

Summary: Weeks after discovering his greatest joy Luke visits his former girlfriend to make up for the lost time. Unable to do it alone his band gives their support to find her and stand by his side as he faces his greatest regret.

Warning: Talk of death, allusion to homophobic parents, teen pregnancy and angst

Words: 3.1k

The book Midnight Club by Christopher Pike came out in 1994 but to fit this fic the book came out in 1993. Also, Alex’s last name will be Mitchell in this.

*For the sake of the story the time frame has been altered, it takes place in the mid-2000s. Also! I tried to make the reader as generalized as I could to make sure that everyone can relate. The reader is Alex’s sister, for inclusion that can be biological, adopted, half or stepsiblings. I want to make sure all people can be the reader.

A/N: Jesus I love Ben with my entire heart and I am a cruel person to have ripped Luke and Ben from each other before they had a chance. Enjoy!

Part One

Masterlist

Los Angeles, 1993

A sunny summer day spent outside reading a new book that had come out recently nestled in your hands under the large tree. The tree that had many tire swings before your parents caved to get a swing set. Now the tree was a companion on lovely days providing shade under the hot sun.

Alex was at band practice with the rest of Sunset Curve in the garage, or studio as Luke deemed it. More often than not, you would be in the studio watching them rehearse, but things changed, things had gotten more serious with Luke in the past six or so months. Plus, Bobby seriously was someone you wanted the least amount of time spent with.

“Hey.” Luke sighed, dropped on the faded blanket you had settled on. Raising one finger, you finished the page before placing the bookmark in.

“Hi.” You grinned leaning in as he pressed a kiss to your soft lips, “Used my Chapstick again?”

Luke hid his face in the crook of your neck, “I’m addicted to it, or it’s just your lips.”

He snuck another kiss before nudging you to adjust lay against his chest between his legs, a familiar position. One where you could read a book, and he could wrap his one arm around you while he wrote in his songbook with the other. God, you loved the boy with your entire heart.

“How’s the book?”

“It’s okay.”

“What’s it about?” Luke asked, wrapping his arms around your midsection.

“Five terminally ill teens living in a hospice tell scary stories every night. They all made a pact together that whoever died first would have to try to contact the others.” You sighed, dropping the book beside you to rest your arms on his.

“Sounds depressing.” Luke hummed, pressing a kiss to your neck, “I can think of more exciting things to do.”

“Over my dead body.” Alex snickered walking passed the young couple on his walk to the house. Reggie following after him with a laugh of his own; it was still odd to see Luke so loved up.

“I was talking about going to a concert!” Luke called out as his friends entered the Mitchell house, leaving the couple alone.

“You totally were not.” You spoke already knowing the answer as Luke nodded his head, “It’s a shock he lets us be alone.”

Turning to face Luke, you couldn’t help the blush that grew from the soft look in his eyes that you had only noticed after he asked you out. The boy had had a crush for a long time even if it was awkward given the previous thing he had with Alex.

“He’ll have to get used to it.”

“So, have you gotten a gig at The Orpheum yet?” You asked, shifting again to nestle against his side content to spend the time there in the backyard.

“Nah, we booked some smaller venues, but we’ll get there. I know it.” Luke was completely confident that one day he would be playing in the most popular venues. The other thing he was confident was his relationship.

“Where will I be?” You spoke looking at the recently turned sixteen-year-old boy who had quickly become the most important thing in your life. Never expected to fall in love with Alex’s ex-fling.

“Cheering us on. Have to have my number one supporter and wife because she’s been there since the dream began. The dream just expanded?”

“Wife?” You breathed.

“I’m not dating you just to date. I’m dating you because when I dream of my future, you are right there next to me.” Luke admitted caressing your cheek the pad of his thumb, “Wherever in the world, we find ourselves I want you there.”

“What about kids?”

“We’ll have as many as you want. Or however many we are lucky to have.” Luke breathed growing more excited as he finally revealed his ideas and firm belief, “Of course I want to be married first. After The Orpheum I want the next thing to focus one hundred percent on is a wedding that you deserve and-“

“Ask me.”

“What?”

“Ask me.” You raised to your knees cradling his face in your hands, “That’s what I dream of too. Having a career but something that lets me travel with the love of my life and my chosen family.”

“It’s not how I want…I want it to be special and romantic because you deserve it.” Luke adamantly spoke, pressing his hands on yours still resting on his face.

“Luke. I love you. Just sitting here like we are is special and romantic.”

“Will you marry me?” Luke whispered, leaning to press his forehead on yours. The orange beanie tickling your skin.

“Yes. As soon as I turn eighteen.” You didn’t care if you had two more years to wait. As long as Luke was by your side, you didn’t care about how you got married just as long as you married him.

Los Angeles, 2004

There are times that Reggie knows that the last thing people need is his goofy personality and jokes. When Luke returned from wherever he had gone, it was evident that something had drastically changed since the last time they had seen him.

“Luke?” Reggie gently spoke hesitantly moving to the boy curled on the couch, sobbing into his hands. Reggie had never seen Luke like this before, not even when it cemented that they had died and Luke’s future with Y/N shattered in a moment.

“Reg-“ Alex poofed in next going stock still at the distraught teenager. His eyes widened as he quickly made his way to Luke, “What’s wrong?”

“I-I saw Y/N.” Luke choked out, shaking his head, “I knew it would hurt, but it felt like I died again. Like I literally watched my hopes and dream just shatter before me.”

Alex was quiet taking in that Luke had seen Y/N. Alex missed his sister with everything in him, but Luke had plans.

“How is she?” Alex whispered, grabbing the hands of one of his best friends in the entire world. The one guy he had wholly trusted with his sister’s heart.

“She looks so good. God, it’s been nine years for her but only a few weeks for me. She’s more beautiful than I remember.” Luke breathed, raising teary eyes to meet Alex and Reggie’s concerned expressions, “I also saw Ben.”

“She got married?” Alex questioned surprised, “Please tell me it isn’t Bobby. I don’t think I could stomach that.”

“His name isn’t Ben and he probably tried after deciding on a respectable time for it to be okay-“

“Reggie.” Alex hissed motioning him to stop talking while Luke knew that Bobby had had feelings for you, he didn’t think he would try anything.

“I don’t think she’s married, but Ben is definitely a big part of what I missed out on.” Luke sighed, picking at a loose thread on his jeans, “I’m sure you know that in the three years, I was actually alive and with her that things happened.”

“Things like…?” Alex trailed off having a feeling he wouldn’t want to know about whatever Luke was hesitant to announce.

“Um…well we were, I am in love.” Luke grimaced at how odd it was to word his feelings for a girl he had died while planning a future, “in relationships you show affection in particular-“

“Okay as you struggle to finish that I will.” Reggie spoke, turning to Alex, “Luke and Y/N as a couple were having sex.”

Alex’s eyes went wide at the blunt statement that he never wanted to hear again in his life because you were his sister! He didn’t need to even think of anything to do other than the kissing he sometimes walked in on. He knew already but didn’t want to know either.

“I died, leaving Y/N pregnant! Which I didn’t know about.” Luke shouted poofing to the other side of the garage when he saw Alex’s fist start to clench. He poofed to the loft when Alex appeared to his last place, “C’mon man!”

“You knocked my sister up!”

Reggie’s mouth dropped at the physical aggression that Alex was showing because Alex was more peaceful and non-violent.

“I didn’t know! He’s eight!” Luke yelped when Alex grabbed him in a headlock, “Dude! I didn’t know! We were gonna get married when she turned eighteen! I love her, man!”

Reggie pulled Alex away from the lead guitarist before a fight happened, and even though part of Reggie wanted to see Alex fight…he wanted Luke here as well.

Alex was quiet, “What does he look like?”

Despite the agony of not being there for his son Luke launched into a description of the little boy.

With a white lie out of Julie’s mouth, she had gotten the address from Emily and Mitch for Luke and Alex. The address led to a small house with pretty flowers and a bike in the front yard; the place where Luke’s son had been growing up in since he was two years old.

Julie’s fist raised, knocking on the white door listening as footsteps sounded on the other side of the door. The door opened, revealing a little boy with startling green eyes that he inherited from his father.

“Benjamin Lucas!” You huffed turning the corner with a frown, “You may be eight, but you are still not allowed to open the door alone!”

The little boy slouched at the greeting before his eyes met three boys behind the Peurto Rican pretty girl.

“Oh my god. He looks just like you!” Alex hissed to Luke unable to remove his gaze from his…his nephew. His attention pulled to the woman his sister had grown to be.

“Julie, right?” You spoke gently tugging Ben closer to you, “Can I help you?”

“Yeah.” Julie nodded, mumbled a thank you as you welcomed the girl into the small home you had made. It was small but perfect, “Did he get stitches?”

“Oh yeah! I guess you were there when he got hurt.” You nodded, moving a book from the couch for Julie to sit down. Your attention was on Ben as he went to the corner to play with toys, “He did. He’s kinda like my brother and his dad in that way.”

“Oh, god.” The overly familiar voice snapped your attention.

Sitting on either side of Julie were exact replicas of three boys that tragically died back in 1995, everyone froze. Even Ben looked up from the tension.

“Mama?” Ben asked, furrowing his brow.

“It’s okay Ben. Can you go to your room?” You asked, staring pale at the two people that you hadn’t noticed before. They hadn’t been visible to you at the time until they sat beside Julie. The scampering of feet and the gentle closing a door left you alone with four people.

“She can see us.”

Mutely you nodded at Alex’s statement slouching into the couch in shock, “What is happening?”

“I found a CD in my garage, and I played it. Out of nowhere, Luke, Reggie and Alex literally appeared in the room. They’re ghosts.” Julie spoke softly, “I’m not sure how I can see them, but I can.”

“Wow.” You breathed leaning back into the couch, unable to tear your gaze from the three boys, “Let me guess. Your first order of business was haunting the hell out of Bobby?”

Bobby, Trevor as the world knew, had lived up to your predictions of him being a lowlife rat boy. If you didn’t have Ben, you would have gone after him, but you couldn’t risk what little you had at the time.

“He stole our songs,” Luke grumbled crossing his arms so like you remember from years ago. He was still the passionate, caring musician you fell in love with so quickly.

“I know. I tried everything but with Ben…it was too hard, but hey he’s gotten little success from his new stuff. Guess he didn’t think of how stealing songs wouldn’t pan out.” You shrugged, twisting a ring on your finger that Luke gave you a few weeks after the spontaneous proposal.

“So Ben?” Alex questioned, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees with great interest in the new topic.

The tsunami of happiness broke through the heavy fog of sadness when your favourite subject came around. Talking about Ben could go on for years you swore with the amount of love for him.

“His name is Benjamin Lucas Patterson. He’s eight years old and obsessed with music, they say playing classical music helps with mental intelligence. Still, he wouldn’t settle unless I played rock.” You laughed glancing over your shoulder at the closed door, “He adores Bear in the Big Blue House and Dragon Tales. Not fond of Barney or Sesame Street but he’ll still watch it.”

The guys ate it up listening to every detail of a little boy they missed even if they only recently learnt about him. Reggie was silent listening to your stories of the young boy.

“His prized possession…come with me.” You gestured turning to head to the bedroom, “I didn’t ask for a lot of baby stuff, just the essentials and anything someone could make. Sunset Curve. You guys were significant to us, so I wanted Ben to have that.”

Ben was settled playing with the cars by his toy chest barely glancing as four people came together. Julie decided to stay in the living room. With a hand, you grabbed the blanket Ben absolutely always needed. It was a homemade blanket made entirely out of clothing—one of Reggie’s flannels, a few shirts from concerts with Luke and clothing that Alex loved.

“Y/N,” Alex spoke, brushing his fingers over the worn material touched at the action of doing something so little yet powerful.

“I’m going, to be frank. After you died and I went to your fun-“ the word choked you as if you were back in 1995 sitting beside your mother wearing that black dress; a dress you burnt in the bathroom tub, “Mom found the test in my room. Rookie mistake. They weren’t thrilled about the baby and who the father was.”

“They kicked you out?”

“And Luke’s parents immediately welcomed me into their home. I owe them a lot, and Emily made this for Ben, she may not have approved of the band, but she knew it was important, so she wanted Ben to have a piece of his father’s greatest joy.”

“Mama? Can we have burgers tonight?” Ben asked quietly from his toys, “Can they stay for supper?”

Ben was shy with new people, but once he got to know someone, he was just like Luke with his bubbly and passionate personality. He was the spitting image of Luke with his hair and eye colour, but he got your nose and skin colour.

“If they want to.” You smiled, reaching over to pull the eight-year-old into your arms only wanting him to never grow up.

Alex, needing a break from the grief, wandered to a picture hanging on the wall that was a shadow box with his very first drum sticks. Underneath was Reggie’s old necklace that had to be replaced. Lastly underneath was the very first pick Luke used for the first song the band had performed.

“I’m Ben.” The boy spoke, meeting the eyes of the newcomers, “You’re the band that passed away, right?”

“Yeah. This may be confusing but Ben this is Alex, Reggie and Luke.” You replied, brushing his bangs away from his eyes. Ben returned to his quiet nature before looking at your eyes.

“That’s my family, right?”

In perfect sync, Alex and Luke started silently crying at the little boy’s words wishing that that night had never happened. It seemed at the time the right way to start the new chapter with one last street dog.

“Yeah, baby.” You cleared your throat nodding along to the innocent words your son spoke before he was wandering out of the room, “One hour of cartoons young man.”

“I’m gonna go.” Reggie spoke gesturing after the boy, “I wanna watch Cartoons.”

Reggie poofed out of the room following the little boy out of the room, leaving three sad people. The room was heavy in loss, so sad it could choke a person.

“Does Mom and Dad have anything to do with him?” Alex asked as the boys covered their grief by wandering around the bedroom. Taking in the pictures of Ben from throughout the eight years, some with you or with his paternal grandparents. Few had Alex and your parents.

“They moved a few months after you died.” You admitted, “After the way they reacted to Ben I didn’t want him in that environment. We get Christmas cards and calls on his birthday, but I don’t have the time to travel.”

Alex nodded vividly remembering the way they reacted after he had told his parents that he didn’t like girls. It was challenging since Dad was always excited for the family name to be passed down, he didn’t see that the name could continue no matter who Alex loved. Mom was more open but stepped in line with her husband instead of her hurting son.

“I’m sorry.” Luke blurted stepping closer to you, allowing you to see the ocean of tears and pain swimming in his tortured gaze, “I shouldn’t have gotten that street dog. I should have stayed with you, you weren’t feeling good.”

“Things happen for a reason, Luke.” You sadly reminded the boy, “I wish it didn’t happen, but it did, and I’ve learned to live with that. Ben has a wonderful family and a good life.”

“He knows about us too,” Luke spoke, thinking back to barely half an hour ago when Ben acted as if he knew Luke all his life. God, Luke wished he could have seen everything.

“I have videos of Ben if you want to see them.” You offered the boy, “There’s a television in the den where Ben has his baby book, and the home videos if you want. You can stay in there all you want.”

Luke nodded, playing with his fingers, “I’d love that.”

“If you want to be alone, I can take Ben for ice cream. You can have the whole house to watch alone.” You graciously offered the boy you would always love and believed before that you would see him in decades after your own death.

Luke silently nodded following as you took him to the den where it had a child-sized guitar and floor to ceiling bookshelves. A television was tucked in the corner with a video camera stored on a shelf with a VHS player. In a sealed container, the home videos were kept safe along with the baby books.

“I’ll be back in a few hours. It’s nice to see you, Luke. Really.” You told the now younger boy keeping his eyes on the opened bucket. A bucket that held all the firsts he had missed out on a little boy he had loved since first seeing him in his family home weeks ago.

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rachelkaser · 3 years

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Stay Golden Sunday: Blind Ambitions

Rose’s blind sister Lily visits and might need more help than she’s willing to admit. The Girls have a garage sale.

Picture It...

The Girls are having a barbecue on the lanai with their guest, Rose’s sister Lily. Lily lost her sight six months ago, and is still adjusting while Rose tries not to be a mother hen. Blanche reminisces about Southern barbecues and Lily tells a story about their St. Olafian camping trips. The Girls discuss Lily’s adjustment -- she claims she can cope with most things now, and she even still watches television. When Sophia grouses about their TV being broken, Lily gives them the idea of having a garage sale to get money for a new one.

DOROTHY: Listen, mom, we cannot afford a new TV. We’re using the household money to repair the roof and repave the driveway. SOPHIA: Great, and what am I supposed to do while every other old lady on the block is watching Cosby? DOROTHY: Well, you can sit in the new driveway and hope that an amusing Black family drops by.

Later, the Girls are gathering together the things they could sell at a garage sale. Dorothy pulls out an old doll, Blanche has a hippy outfit she wore to Woodstock (the movie), and Rose finds a pair of candlesticks she decides to keep. Lily offers to put them in the alcove, and tells Rose not to be so protective. Rose apologizes -- while discreetly moving aside a lamp Lily was about to walk into. Lily then announces she’s going to her room and Dorothy and Blanche scramble to move a half-dozen boxes out of her way without her noticing, and she triumphantly declares, when she makes it to the hallway, that she doesn’t need anyone’s help.

The next day, Lily is cooking bacon on the stove, and when she turns away for a moment, the pan catches fire. She cries out for help, and Rose and Blanche come rushing in, with Rose putting out the fire with an extinguisher. Dorothy runs in as Blanche tells Lily she shouldn’t have been cooking on the stove. Lily apologizes but says it was just an accident as she sulks out. Blanche and Dorothy confront Rose, saying Lily isn’t as independent as she’s saying she is, and she might need to go back to the school for the blind, despite dropping out due to alleged boredom. Rose agrees to talk to her.

LILY: I remember when you were six years old and dad got you that puppy for your birthday. You worried because you thought her paws were too big and that the other dogs would laugh at her. ROSE: Well they did! They used to bark and point at her! LILY: Everybody pointed at her. You made her wear a bonnet and matching booties.

Rose goes to her room, where Lily is staying, and Lily reassures Rose that she’s fine. She says Rose is a worrier by nature, and Rose says not to change the subject. She tells Lily that she’s trying to do much by herself, and the independence of which she’s so proud isn’t serving her now. Lily finally breaks and tells Rose she just wants things to go back to the way they were, but they’re not going to. Rose tells her she needs help, and Lily begs Rose to come back home and live with her before bursting into tears.

Later, Rose tells the Girls that she’s seriously thinking about moving with Lily to Chicago, but both Blanche and Rose are skeptical that it’ll actually help Lily. Dorothy accuses her of doing it out of guilt, and Blanche relates a story of how she lost a male friend because her husband made her feel guilty about it. Sophia has a slightly more relevant story about how she struggled to get back on her feet after her stroke. It took Dorothy pushing her to be independent for her to actually make the effort, and Sophia tells Rose she needs to help her sister “to help herself.” Rose goes off to think some more.

DOROTHY: *after Blanche rebuffs a customer’s offer of $1.25 for her Elvis shakers* Blanche, I can’t believe that you did that! I mean, they’re just a silly salt and pepper shaker. BLANCHE: The King is gone, Dorothy. But we must cherish the things he left behind. His movies, his songs... DOROTHY: And his seasonings.

At the garage sale, every time someone shows an interest in one of the Girls’ things, they react badly. Rose isn’t willing to give up her teddy, Mr. Longfellow; Blanche believes her Elvis salt and pepper shakers must be cherished; and Dorothy squabbles with a teenager over a hockey stick used by Bobby Hull. They come to the conclusion that they’re not willing to part with any of their things, and decide to just pay for a new TV in installments. Blanche and Dorothy go to shoo out their customers.

Lily enters and tells Rose how much she appreciates Rose being willing to help her. She asks Rose to get her a glass of water, and Rose freezes before reminding Lily that she’s capable of getting a glass of water — and if she isn’t, she needs professional help that Rose can’t give. She’s made up her mind: She’s not going to Chicago. Lily gets angry and accuses Rose of turning her back on her, storming out.

DOROTHY: *after the third time Rose leaves the house and returns* Come on now. Come on now, get out of here. You’ve come back more times than Shirley MacLaine.

Two months later, Rose is on her way to visit Lily. She’s sure that Lily is going to pressure her into living with her again and is nervous because it was hard enough to refuse the first time. The Girls encourage her to stick to her guns. She leaves, but not without kissing her friends goodbye. When Rose arrives at the airport later, she thanks the flight attendant for all the extras they provided her (including pillows, Dramamine, and 10 packs of smokehouse almonds).

Rose is surprised to see Lily at the airport, waiting for her. Lily introduces her seeing-eye dog, Becky, who Rose of course melts over (side note: I don’t think you’re supposed to pet service dogs the way Rose does here, but considering the dog is likely not an actual service dog, I’ll excuse it). Lily apologizes to Rose, saying Rose did the right thing by pushing her. She went back to the school for the blind, and is finally in a place where she can take care of herself -- with Becky’s help, of course. She and Becky take the lead to the baggage claim, with Lily tossing off a one-liner that has Rose a bit concerned:

ROSE: I’m so proud of you. LILY: Oh this is nothing! What till you see me drive home!

“If it’s a choice between the two of them, let the blind one make change.”

After Blanche and Dorothy had their turns with sisterly conflict episodes, it’s now Rose’s turn. This time it’s not long-standing animosity or bubbling resentment that sets the two against each other, but a new life change that prompts an adaptation in the relationship. As depressing as it may be, I think Lily and Rose might be the healthiest sister relationship in the show’s history, not that that’s saying much. Lily is one of the more memorable guest characters on the show, mostly because she’s given room to have complex emotions.

In the episode, Lily is played by Polly Holiday, whose main claim to fame is playing Flo “Kiss My Grits” Castleberry on the sitcom Alice -- a catchphrase I’ve always found a little baffling, but at least it’s memorable. If you’d asked me based on what little I’d seen of Alice if she’d be capable of giving one of the most memorable guest performances on Golden Girls ever, I admit I’d have been a little skeptical -- and I’d be wrong, because she really brings it. It’s not often an actor can be in a scene with Betty White and completely command all the attention (and probably some of the credit goes to White for being a great scene partner).

SOPHIA: Why are we cooking outdoors? DOROTHY: Ma, we’re having a barbecue. SOPHIA: You know what they call cooking meat over an open fire in Sicily? DOROTHY: No, what? SOPHIA: Poverty.

I appreciate what the episode does, making Lily an . . . well, I don’t want to say antagonist, but definitely the person who’s causing the conflict. She’s not actually dealing with her problems, but she wants to look like she is because she’s too proud to ask for help -- and when she finally does, it’s from a person who’s not qualified to help her. The first time I watched this episode, I was a naïve youngster who didn’t understand why Rose didn’t go help Lily -- I felt that I would, under the circumstances. Now that I’m an adult, I understand better why that situation is untenable, because Rose would have to quit her job and, given that she can’t really teach Lily to be independent, would never be able to have her own life because Lily would be dependent on her.

The show is also not shy about showing how Lily’s lack of control over her situation is making her lash out, and that this isn’t excusable: During the pivotal scenes between Rose and Lily, Lily does everything she can to deflect taking responsibility for herself. She tells Rose, “You’d be worried if you couldn’t find anything to worry about” when Rose comes to check on her (keep in mind, she’d been screaming for help mere minutes earlier), begs Rose to fix the problem for her, and finally escalates to accusing Rose of abandoning her when Rose tries to get her to take care of herself.

DOROTHY: Will you look at this? I got this doll on my 10th birthday. I can’t believe I’ve kept her all these years. *Sophia enters behind her* Her hair’s falling out, her clothes are all worn, she smells of mothballs... SOPHIA: Hey, I may not be Ann-Margret, but I’m still your mother!

There is a difference between toughing something out and truly coping with it, and I think anyone who’s gone through a major life change would agree. The difference lies in confronting the reality of the situation. For most of the episode, Lily adamantly refuses to do that, and Rose enables her -- the other Girls recognize that and try to help Rose see it. For me, the best (and hardest) part of the episode to watch is that little moment in the kitchen when Rose says Lily is very independent, and Dorothy firmly says, “No she’s not, Rose.”

I’m not disabled myself, so I looked up details on common reactions to late-onset disabilities. We never know how Lily became blind -- if it was something that had been coming on for a while or if it was the result of some kind of trauma -- but I found an article on the Royal National Institute for Blind People’s website that clarified what Lily is going through: Grief. If you watch closely, you can see Lily’s going through a few different stages of grief -- denial, anger, and fear. While her situation is resolved mostly off-camera, it’s nice to see that she’s allowed to have those emotions.

ROSE: *about Lily* She served three terms on the city council, and she was the first woman in St. Olaf’s to ever have a pilot’s license. BLANCHE: Oh really? Well we have something in common, Lily. I was the first woman in my hometown ever to have a pilot! DOROTHY: Blanche’s bed is next to the X-15 at the Space and Aviation Museum.

Still, as much as I like the episode, I do think there are a few parts where the writing isn’t as strong as it could be. Most of the episode is tipped on the serious side rather than the comedic side. The garage sale scene is really funny, but doesn’t make sense. Presumably the Girls went through all their stuff before putting it out on the lanai, to confirm they wanted to sell it and to price it. Why is it that only on the day of the sale do they decide they want to keep all their bric-a-brac? Also, I’m not exactly sure how they plan to get a new TV with a $60 down payment and paying “the rest of it” off on time. Side note: The scene of them frantically clearing Lily’s path of boxes is funny, but it’s really their fault for leaving boxes of stuff lying around while a blind guest is trying to navigate their house.

While the episode is balanced really well between the four Girls, I think Blanche’s major part of the episode -- her extended story about her male friend Andrew (an excellent lover . . . no, riveter) -- doesn’t really serve either the episode or the scene it’s in, which is a recurring problem with first-season episodes. Her anecdotes from the opening scene about barbecues with the Darcy triplets (Hank, Beau, and . . . Dove?) are much funnier and feel more appropriate to the scene.

BLANCHE: *about Sophia’s stroke* But you got better. SOPHIA: Yeah, because [Dorothy] stopped coddling me. She screamed, she hollered, day and night. She made me do my therapy. She forced me to rebuild my life because she knew I could. And for that I’ll always be grateful. DOROTHY: Aw, thanks, Ma. SOPHIA: I only have one question: Now that I’m better, why do you still scream and holler at me?

Also, bit of dubious-but-fun trivia for you: I already said that Holliday is great as Lily. That said, she allegedly wasn’t the first choice for the role. If the information in Golden Girls Forever is correct, the person who the producers originally wanted to play Lily, the actress whose name was thrown around early in the process . . . was Lucille Ball. Yes, that Lucille Ball.

Keep in mind I couldn’t find a secondary source for this information. Contrary to the impression I probably give, I don’t take Golden Girls Forever as gospel and I generally do try to confirm what’s written via some other source. If I can’t, I don’t want to present it to you as fact. So allegedly the reason Ball declined the role was that she didn’t want to do too many serious roles, and I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad Polly Holliday got the role instead of Lucille Ball. If she had, I think the whole episode, including the dramatic scenes, would have been less about the characters and performances, and more about “OMG, that’s Lucy!”

Episode rating: 🍰🍰🍰 (three cheesecake slices out of five)

Favorite part of the episode:

Sophia shows how much patience she has for haggling:

CUSTOMER: How much? SOPHIA: Two bucks. Get wild. Treat yourself. CUSTOMER: Nah, I’ll give you a dollar-fifty. SOPHIA: What does this look like, Baghdad? *pulls vase out of her hands* Get the hell out of here! DOROTHY: Ma, that’s no way to sell things! SOPHIA: Hey, go to Neiman Marcus sometime, see if they treat you any better.

#golden girls #stay golden #rose nylund #sophia petrillo #blanche devereaux #dorothy zbornak #stay golden sunday #blind ambitions #picture it #s01e23

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valkyrieofvalhalla · 6 years

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The Burden of Perceived Motherhood

What is a woman’s life worth, outside of her ability to have children or conceive? Seemingly nothing. Who is a woman, if not a mother or a potential mother? Seemingly no one. This is, by and large, the average belief held by the average person. It may not be so blatant with some, but the fact of the matter is that the majority of people – whether they be religious or not, feminist or not, progressives or conservatives – refuse to detach motherhood from womanhood. How can you be a woman if you are not a mother, and do not want to be one? This insidious attitude rests within the societal collective mind, popping up in various forms and demanding that we as women must adhere to our “biological destiny”. This malignant and pervasive perspective tells a woman she must have children – it’s expected of her to want them, to seek out a future of births and diapers and raising babies – and if this woman does not want this for herself, this perception tells her that she is too stupid to understand her own wants and needs. Silly woman,you don’t know yourself that well. Stupid woman, you don’t understand the kind of decision you’re making.

It is, frankly, insulting.

I very recently experienced something rather troubling; a reminder of the adamant belief held by most that a woman’s fate rests in her uterus. I call this belief perceived motherhood – where people expect you to have a child even when you don’t want one. They belittle you by insisting that you don’t know what you actually want out of life. This happened to me not from strangers, or religious fanatics, but my own self-proclaimed and otherwise liberal ‘friends’. These two friends – one a woman (W) and one a man (M) – are people who have known me for nearly a decade. I have been adamantly childfree for longer than that. This is something about my own life that I’ve been incredibly vocal and steadfast about. I have never wavered in my decision to refrain from procreating, nor will I. They know this. Yet what they said to me was a supremely hurtful reminder that to many I’m not a person – just an incubator.

It started with the both of them saying that they could see me having children, but only boys. Something about me, my personality, screamed baby boys. At this early point in the conversation, I was fine and playing along, even if I did disagree. It was all in good spirit anyways – just playful ribbing. Except that it wasn’t. What I thought were silly jokes was actually a deeply rooted belief that they both held that I would be a mother one day, no matter what. When they said to me, “Yeah, A, you’re totally gonna have boys.” I replied, “No, not this womb. Closed for business!”

They pushed. W: “You say that, but you’re wrong! People always have ironic stuff happen to them, like my aunt. She made fun of my mom for having an ugly baby, and then BAM – she was the one with the ugly baby.”

M: “Yeah, you’re gonna find a man who dicks you so good that you’ll keep the baby.”

At this point, although I was getting agitated, I continued to play along because I still thought they were teasing me. I never would’ve guessed that my own longtime friends thought so little of me, or of my values and wants. I said to them, “Maybe you guys don’t understand English as well as I thought ya’ll did. NO –” I pointed to my lower stomach “– salida!”

M: “No, A, you’re gonna find a man and he’s gonna get you pregnant. You’re gonna have kids.”

A: “I’ll abort them. They ain’t surviving the wasteland of my vagina.”

R: “No, see, they’re gonna be like Charlie [Kelly; a character from ‘It’s Always Sunny’]. The abortion won’t take. You’ll try and try and he’ll live. You won’t abort him because you can’t.”

A: “Nope, not happening. There isn’t a sperm strong enough out there to survive my kind of abortion – it’s not gonna happen.”

This, unbelievably, went on for some time. There even came a point where R said to me verbatim, “Look at your boobs, those were made for milking.” and Z agreed, saying, “Yeah, you can feed, like, six kids with those.”

Milking. Because I’m an animal. Not a person. Because my large breasts make me unfit for anything but childrearing. To them, I’m a pair of tits and ass (or rather, tits and vag).

I wanted the conversation to end. I was uncomfortable, flabbergasted by the ‘milking’ comment and frankly so done with the topic of children. I just wanted to go home. But they continued, bringing up with delight scenarios in which I would be forced to have children against my will.

Yes, you read that right. My own friends excitedly told me about a variety of futures in which I was forced to carry a child to term – and bear the burden of all the consequences associated with pregnancy and birth. To any rational person, that should be considered utterly heinous. Oftentimes, many abusers will sabotage forms birth control and force their wives or girlfriends to carry a child to term in order to further entangle them in the relationship. The unfortunate woman is more reluctant, or even outright unable to leave the volatile, unhealthy relationship when a child is involved. In some ways, forced birth can even be considered rape. At it’s core, it’s a violation of a person’s basic human rights: the right to choose what happens to their own body.

R said to me, “Ohh, what if you’re in a coma and you’re pregnant and you have kids like that! Or like ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’ [a show we’d both been watching, about a religious society which takes away women’s rights and forces them to be sex slaves with the ultimate goal of birth] where you have sex with three different men before you get pregnant [referencing how, in the show, if the slaves don’t give birth after 3 “assignments” they get shuttled off to a radioactive wasteland to die] –”

At this point I cut her off. I’d had enough; I was blind with rage at the references to The Handmaid’s Tale. Fury flowed through me at the thought that my ‘friends’ were so desperate to see me have children that my forced pregnancy was a happy and likely scenario to them (remember, they were talking about how everyone has ‘ironic’ lives). This wasn’t joking anymore; it wasn’t even joking to begin with, really. Because they have said before that they just can’t see me as anything but a mother. And that night, they were saying it again – but with a fervor and insistency that both angered and frightened me.

I told them off. I told them that I was not getting pregnant because I hate the idea of being a mother. I see pregnant women and I get angry (this is an issue due to my own upbringing; I’ll get to it soon). I think of pregnancy and I want to vomit. I absolutely 100% abhor the idea of a parasite growing inside of me, feeding on my body, my nutrients, crushing my organs and generally fucking with me.

I’ve been forced to care for my younger sibling as though I was her mother from a very young age; when I was older, I was forced to care for my ailing parents alongside my sibling. I’ve never been allowed to be a child. I’ve never been given the opportunity to have fun and live life carefree, without any worry. Many of my peers were able to be young and enjoy it. I had to sacrifice all that so my family wouldn’t suffer. I couldn’t go to college, I couldn’t seek out a career that I enjoyed. Ultimately, I couldn’t even enjoy my own earnings because they went to caring for my brat sister and my parents who, in their senility, were reverting to child-like thinking and mannerisms. In essence, I was a mother of three.

Let me tell you now, with full conviction and in all sincerity and seriousness: I despise having dependents. I never, EVER want to be in a situation where someone needs me or they’ll die/suffer again. The stress of doing what I had to do gave me moderate depression. I was hospitalized, constantly felt despair and anguish, and felt like there was no hope for me. I could not live the life I wanted, or be the person that I truly was, because of my dependents.

I hate it, and I will do anything to avoid it happening again.

I also grew up in a Muslim household, with a fanatical family who frequently told me (among other disgusting things) that I am destined to be a mother, and that if I won’t bear children no man will want me; I will die alone and unhappy. I both reject and detest the sentiment – I am a person outside of my ability or willingness to conceive.

Furthermore, I have experienced some of the things the women in The Handmaid’s Tale do. I was almost a teen bride, the only thing standing in the way was my father miraculously saying no, he wouldn’t sell me to a stranger just yet. I have visited my parent’s country of origin and was forced to wear hijab. In that country, I was subjected to a number of demeaning things, such as a curfew, not being allowed entrance to places, being hit, being threatened with violence, being told not to entice men by crossing my legs – you get the idea.

I remember encountering so many women who were my age at the time (15) and even younger being married off. I remember meeting a woman who was married to a man three times her age when she was twelve years old; at the time she was in her early thirties, and had continued the tradition with her own daughters. She became a great-grandmother in my time there. Above all, I experienced people from every side hounding on me that I was a woman, therefore I would also be a mother. No matter what. Womanhood = motherhood. I, apparently, could not be one without the other. These are things about my past my friends know, which is why their comments hurt me so much.

I know what I want for myself. I don’t want children. I won’t have them. I sincerely believe in the phrase “Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness”. I am a human being, with certain inalienable rights. One of these rights is to choose what happens to my body. I can be an organ donor. I can get buried instead of cremated. I can have tattoos and cut my hair. And, ultimately, I can choose to never have my womb put to use. I knew, from the ripe old age of eleven, that I didn’t want to be a mother. Just about everything else in my life that I’ve experienced has reinforced this.

I shouldn’t even have to say why I don’t want children. It should be as simple as “I don’t want them” and that’s that. But instead, people hound and badger and question – and in doing so, belittle those they are speaking to. As I said earlier, it is evident that women, though we may have our rights in the western world, are still thought of primarily as mothers.

I am a person god fucking damn it! I am a person, first and foremost, and my life has value and meaning outside of children. I can impact society for the better without being a mother. I can accomplish great feats without being a mother. I can learn and create and help society and people progress – all without ever having given birth. And even if I don’t do these things, my life holds meaning. I’m important, not because I’m a potential mother, but because I am a human being.

I am intelligent, I am caring and creative and enjoy history and want to work for the CDC or the WHO one day. I want to be a part of the trips to Mars. I like writing fiction. Noir is one of my favorite genres. I like fashion and minimalism and want to better myself physically and mentally. I see many futures and possibilities for myself. I hope I can become a scientist, like I want. I hope I can help eradicate disease.

I am a person, simple as that. Kids don’t make me who I am. I have worth, by virtue of being me. No one can take that from me. No one will.

I stand strong in the face of this burden of perceived motherhood because I know who I am, I know what I want out of life, and no one is going to take my liberty from me.

“I am the master of my fate

I am the captain of my soul”

- ‘Invictus’, William Ernest Henley

#feminism #feminist #womanhood #motherhood #children #childfree #no kids #women are people #you're allowed to say no #you have rights #never let anyone bully you into being someone you're not #you are who you are #no one can gatekeep you

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thechildofstorms · 6 years

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Happy June Pride Everyone

It’s been a little more than a year since I wrote my thesis, and I’m still in the process of trying to publish it, but with June here and because my thesis itself was about the LGBT community, I really just wanted to write this. It’s so long, i’m so sorry.

When I was growing up, I knew almost next to nothing about the LGBTQIA+. I was baptist, I was heavily religious, and while my dad taught me to have a heart for others and a heart for God, I wasn’t aware enough to know that those words only reached out to specific communities and ideals.

I grew up hearing slurs as jokes, and I would giggle because I thought my dad was the funniest person around, and before I was older I only thought they were harmless, because why would someone I respected and admired be cruel when he taught me not to be?

I did become aware though, around the same time that I became self-conscious and insecure. I treasured those I was close to, and I could never figure out if I loved someone too much, or if I stayed within the confinements of safe friendly love. I denied active crushes, I denied reading sapphic romances because I felt like it was a line I couldn’t cross, I denied revelations about girls I saw in school hallways, and instead hyper focused on boys that I also found attractive.

I was so scared of losing approval. I remember being fifteen and sitting in the car going to visit my grandparents. My biological mother had gotten drunk and abusive again the night before, and for the first time within the last hour before we had gotten in the car everything was finally calm again. My dad was listening to conservative news, and I asked him why they were so negative about the equality crisis at the time. I just remember a specific part the most, because it became so ingrained in my head to the point that it still echoes even now, almost ten years later.

“It’s wrong, it’s abomination.”

The biggest part that hit me is the bolded, because my dad put so much emotion behind it. It felt so final and it made me scared. I valued my relationship with him, because he protected me. I valued him because he was the only parent that did not try to restrict his love or make it conditional.

I brought it up only once to my biological mom when I was still in high school, and she was so adamant about me not being Bi, “No, Rachel. You aren’t, you aren’t.” she didn’t bring it up again. Later when I told her in my 20′s, she walked out of the room then came back to fight on it.

In the year that my parents finally separated and I ended up in the worst battle in my life - trying to protect my little sister while being hurt and abandoned emotional by those I trusted to help - I swan dived. After talking to my cousin, and after more than a year of internally struggling between accepting it or not, and feeling so hopeless in 2012, knowing I would probably never have the family I always wanted, I told my dad. Three days after my biological mom told me she wished she had aborted me because I told her I was done with her abuse. The night before he had hugged and comfort be when I woke up sobbing and panicking at three am, but when I told him, he was silent, and I felt so relieved that he didn’t attack me then and there that I didn’t see the silence as his way of putting distance between us.

In the following years, I lost one of the strongest relationships I had. I realized the man I defended so adamantly against my biological mom and those who blamed him for the divorce and her later fall into substance usage and crimes. I realized I had defended him while wrongfully thinking he would do the same for me. I was told I would cheat on my spouse because I like men and women. I was told I was wrong. I was told that my love was false and corrupt, that it was a sexual deviance akin to adultery and pedophilia. All the while I was being told by others who supported my biological mom that I was hateful and cruel and wrong as well. It was devastating. I felt like I had no voice, that I had no connection, and that I was nothing except for that parts that I had to carve out in my new life. I lost so much of my childhood and foundation stones that I didn’t know how to recover.

It was at the end of this time that I was a senior working on their dreaded thesis project. Chechnya was coming to light, the fear of Trump was there, and I felt entirely alone and angry and even spiteful, because how could so much hate exist? How could people that taught me love and who always loved me turn on me? How could families in Chechnya betray and hate their sons? How could an entire denomination fall into a hateful narrative from a hateful man?

I knew that I wanted to make my thesis about something that was, as I put it at the time, super gay. Slightly for revenge on my family, mostly because I was so curious about exploring a new part of me that I had denied for so long. During that year before my final semester, I realized that yes, it would be gay, yes it would be amazing. But it couldn’t be about me or what I wanted. I hated thinking about what my dad and my biological mom taught me, the good things, but I remembered the part about having a heart for others. I remembered being a community and being there and sharing testimonies so that others could see your struggle and identify with it and learn and heal with you. I remembered the selflessness of that, and i remember how I relied on it and how it felt like a piece missing from me at the time.

And I wondered, why didn’t the LGBT community have that, too? Why can’t we find solidarity in our past. Why is our history so heteronormative? Why couldn’t I find a similar narrative when I had needed it the most? why should my younger sisters and my cousin go through their own pain and loss like I did? why should any of us go through it without solidarity and guidance?

I only dipped into the reservoirs of LGBT history, but I found stories that resonated with mine. I found our trans community represented within warriors, and I reached for our Bi and lesbian and gay roots that are so much deeper than mainstream society wants you to know. I was tired of always seeing people like me dying on tv, or not even being there, so I went and found them myself.

After mediating and learning their stories, I wrote narrative prose on them. i tried as hard as I could to let their voices flow through my writing so that others could hear them and find their own voices there as well.

We spent so much of our lives being told we are not enough, that we are few, that we are inherently wrong. We were either disowned or isolated within our own homes. We were let down by those we trust and love. We have hearts that beat stronger now, because we have lived and breathed pain and hurt, but we still love and celebrate. I have one of my poems attached below, it was one of my favorites from my thesis, and it reminded me to hope after it was finished.

----

Early Morning, the Sirens Wail

Under swift waves, new tides preceding

Planes flying over burnt walls,

We held hands, bones crackling, knees bruised

And pained, murmuring, “I see how we will die.”

So calm, eyes unfocused to metal wings above,

Her smile, “Come now, just breathe for me.”

And we breathe in all the ash wind, and we

Breathe out all the war’s rage.

Calm down, wings should never make

Such horrific sounds, overpowering the beating

Against my chest, within my chest. On bruised knees,

Murmuring, “I see how we will thrive.”

---

Happy Pride, everyone. Happy being who you are. You are loved, you are adored, you are treasured, and never let anyone tell you differently.

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idreamofdrea · 3 years

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Just because it doesn’t make sense to doesn’t mean that I’m a hypocrite. That’s the worst part about talking to you again. It just shows how little you understand me and how little you care to. Once again popping off on me asking all these questions. “If you were really scared of me you wouldn’t have blank. It doesn’t make sense” back then I wasn’t trying to make sense, I was trying to survive. It’s like she doesn’t remember that I was super skeptical and couldn’t get back to her about whether or not I could go with her to her coworkers house. How mad she was at me for not being able to make a decision. I had to weigh the pros and cons. Over the entire weekend. And I figured since we were trying to work things out it would be best if I just went. I don’t know how much backlash I would get if I didn’t. So you say it doesn’t make sense because I am telling you I didn’t feel safe with you. You told me in that car ride I was acting weird and maybe you’re right I wasn’t saying a fucking word. Trying so hard not to rock the boat. Go ahead and tell me I’m a hypocrite.

And let’s just talk about the last conversation we had. Me telling you I am so scared of you and I don’t want to talk to you or engage with you or do a swap with you. It has nothing to do with me being able to dish it but I can’t take it. I wasn’t dishing anything I just was being honest. I look back on all the times that I was just like open and vulnerable to be met with a brick wall and this is it again. It’s not like you came into my life again asking if I had time to talk to you renegotiate the terms of our no contact. If you had something you needed to say something you needed to talk about, coming into my life out of nowhere isn’t the way to do it. I set strict boundaries and said the only time I want to talk to you about our dog. Anything else other than that I’m not ready for and that doesn’t mean I’m “not acting like an adult”.

Just because we can hammer out this conversation physically doesn’t mean that I am mentally ready and it doesn’t make me a child for recognizing that for myself and speaking up for that.

And me saying I can recognize that our relationship did a lot on your mental health but I left our relationship fearing for my life isnt a manipulation tactic.

It has nothing to do with skirting your questions.

I don’t want to talk to you because you scare me.

Fear is a legitimate adult feeling. And instead of going down the same spiral that we used to I just don’t have the energy to deal with this.

And you sitting there telling me that I put legitimate trash in the boxes that I put all your shit in? just means you for the recognize that back when we originally broke up and I had everything organized and labeled and it was easy for you to move out and this time I just threw everything that was left in my house that was yours into some boxes. there is a huge fucking difference and it’s not me just throwing trash in. I just threw everything in. It’s not my job to organize your life anymore. Me throwing “literal trash” in is how willing I am to do the work with you, I don’t want anything to do with you and I’m tired of doing the hard work of sorting and organizing you shit. Back when we first broke up I was so willing to work things out I want to make your transition as easy as possible and I did all the work packing and throwing out the literal trash that you left in my house this time you can keep it you go through it I don’t give a shit what is important and what’s not you get it all. It’s not mine to deal with.

And this may come to surprise you but like I tried to make sure that I would remember to bring your blender and your knife set but since they were in my kitchen I didn’t really pack it away and then I forgot and then I just didn’t want to engage you and I still don’t wanna engage with you its too much and it’s been two full days of me spiraling because of this. Trying so hard but the physical pain and fear won’t leave my body for more than a few hours. It keeps coming back. The panic. I’m living life in fear again because you unconsensually came back into my life and dumped so much shit on me.

For what a knife set and a blender.

Once again I never gave up my parental rights to Dobby I didnt know I had a fucking choice. As you have reminded me he’s your dog because you signed the papers by yourself against my will. And I know I said I can’t take care of him in the winter but it’s no longer a fucking winter and I was thinking about contacting you about him but now I realize I can’t talk to you I’m not going through a third-party to do it. also you told me I wouldn’t longer have that right. I don’t have a choice.

Oh and let’s be very clear me talking to your sister, she talk to me first and I wasn’t just gonna turn her down because she was just talking to me about boys and crushes and then I asked her to draw something for me and that’s it. None of it had anything to do with you. And why is it that all of a sudden my actions have to do with you when you were very adamantly clear that none of your actions had anything to do with me. why don’t I get the same Grace? Why is that me hanging out with Nikole your business? because after we broke up she said we would and I told her it hurt my feelings that the only time she talks to me is about you. How does that have anything to do with you?

You call me names but don’t realize your manipulation your control. And you give yourself these outs that you have triggers as if you didn’t trigger me either. You give yourself so much grace and then turn around and tell me everything that I am doing is hypocritical and not adult and doesn’t make sense and Manipulative.

I didn’t say anything other than you scare me I don’t want to talk to you. Where is the manipulation? I could actually understand if you said that I was belittling you when I said I understand that our relationship hurt your mental health but I left fearing for my life. But once again you don’t know my intentions that wasn’t my intention to belittle you. If it was a bad way of acknowledging your pain but simultaneously staying firm in my boundaries. Then that’s all it fucking was it has nothing to do with manipulating you. If it makes you feel bad like that’s not for me to deal with anymore. We’re not together you’re not in my life you don’t do anything but hurt me. If that were to change then I would make more of an effort but I’m not gonna make this huge effort for a person who is going around telling everyone that I am really the one who attacked them because it’s not The full scope of anything. Also when are you ever going to learn that all you have to ever do is say hey this hurts my feelings or ask if I meant this as a manipulation tactic. Or ask me to rephrase it you just have to be direct with me that’s who I am.

I had to walk on so many eggshells because of you in my own home. Whether it be in the morning because you needed to sleep in and I couldn’t be a morning person. I couldn’t watch TV or play music. my entire life’s routine was routed around you. I couldn’t do the things that I do with all of the people in my life now. Where are i say hey I don’t like the way I’m being talk to you right now or can you rephrase this so that it makes more sense to me or it feels better for me. I couldn’t say no to sex. I couldn’t have a kind of sex that I wanted without being judged. I couldn’t ask for the kind of communication that I needed. I couldn’t ask for a hug. You mocked me for needing a hug. You mocked me for needing kind words. You straight up denied me from receiving empathy.

And you’re still not giving me empathy now so why should I not feel scared? and I’m not asking for it anymore I��m not begging for it anymore. If you don’t want to be empathetic towards me you don’t have to be. But I don’t have to do shit for you.

You demanding something out of me after all this time. Demanding multiple things out of me. After I haven’t talk to you for months.

You spent years talking to people when it made me uncomfortable telling me I can’t tell you who you can can’t talk to you and say it’s a boundary. and let’s be clear I wasn’t controlling who you couldn’t couldn’t talk to unless it came to both of our exes because that shit was an unhealthy situation. But anybody else I just said I don’t want to be in your life if you’re gonna be around these people because you acted like I don’t have kind words for how you acted towards me when you were around certain people. it was your actions I was trying to prevent myself from being a round. you want to have shitty communication and polyamory go with someone else. I only accept open communication anything other than that it’s monogamy or don’t be with me. You’re the one who couldn’t handle the kind of communication that I needed and it has nothing to do with me controlling you. I don’t have to be polyamorous with someone calling me unadult for sharing my feelings. for having needs and asking for them to be met. Using the typical “one person can’t satisfy all of your needs“ to not have to meet my basic needs is abuse. I wasn’t asking for all of my needs to be satisfied I was asking for my basic needs. Oh I have a chart for this.

As you can see here. I was asking for my safety needs to be met. if my safety needs weren’t met why would I be polyamorous with you?

And this has been something that has been going on for years. My basic physical safety wasn’t safe with you.

I was a caged animal so yes I have hit you back but I never hit you first. And if you think that I’m diluted for that go ahead. I know that there were other things like angrily doing the dishes that were toxic. I know my screaming was toxic. But once again they were trauma responses. I didn’t just start screaming at the top of my lungs for no goddamn reason. And that is not to blame you it was an unhealthy coping mechanism that I recognized back when we were together and tried so goddamn hard to stop it. remember how I started using the timer to see how many times we would interrupt each other or give each other enough time to feel like we could fully say what we need to say. You’re really gonna sit there and act like I didn’t acknowledge my own shit I have always done that. Like every work sheet I sent you on cognitive behavioral therapy or narcissistic abuse was because I was working on myself and I thought it might be helpful for you too.

But go ahead and call it manipulation.

Me needing a certain way to be apologized to isn’t controlling either by the way I found out that people have different apology languages and it’s actually quite important to apologize in your partners apology language so they know. So they can feel the relief so they can feel loved.

And I am sure because your voice is in my head you’re already telling me I’m a hypocrite because I’m not apologizing.

You’re not my partner you’re not my friend and you’ve shown me that you don’t care about me. And I sure as shit have apologized to you.

So yeah you may have heartfelt feelings for me and will always hold love for me but the amount that you care and respect me is not there.

Once again you told me I wasn’t an adult for being emotionally vulnerable to someone who quite frankly doesn’t deserve it.

I told you the truth no matter how hard it was for both of us. I am scared of you. You don’t like that I get it I don’t like it either and I don’t wanna live like this but I have to because you’re not doing anything for me that is less scary than before.

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dfroza · 3 years

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even in the face of opposition

the message is to be shared, and conserved.

(A new covenant of grace)

and this is a grace that is only seen in the True illumination of the Son.

for indeed, Hebraic History is of deep significance since this is how our Creator has revealed Himself to us as our heavenly Father. and we are meant to conserve spiritual truth in this world, to guard the heart where the Spirit abides within our own.

Paul points to this in the writing of his Letter with Today’s reading of the Scriptures being chapter #2 of First Thessalonians:

My dear brothers and sisters, it’s obvious that our ministry among you has proven to be fruitful. And though we had already suffered greatly in Philippi, where we were shamefully mistreated, we were emboldened by faith in our God to fearlessly preach his wonderful gospel to you in spite of incredible opposition.

Our coming alongside you to encourage you was not out of some delusion, or impure motive, or an intention to mislead you, but we have been approved by God to be those who preach the gospel. So our motivation to preach is not pleasing people but pleasing God, who thoroughly examines our hearts. God is our witness that when we came to encourage you, we never once used cunning compliments as a pretext for greed, nor did we crave the praises of men, whether you or others. Even though we could have imposed upon you our demands as apostles of Christ, instead we showed you kindness and were gentle among you. We cared for you in the same way a nursing mother cares for her own children. With a mother’s love and affectionate attachment to you, we were very happy to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our lives—because you had become so dear to us.

Beloved brothers and sisters, surely you remember how hard we labored among you. We worked night and day so that we would not become a burden to you while we preached the wonderful gospel of God. With God as our witness you saw how we lived among you—in holiness, in godly relationships, and without fault. And you know how affectionately we treated each one of you, like a loving father cares for his own children. We comforted and encouraged you and challenged you to adopt a lifestyle worthy of God, who invites you into his kingdom and glory.

This is why we continually thank God for your lives, because you received our message wholeheartedly. You embraced it not as the fabrication of men but as the word of God. And the word continues to be an energizing force in you who believe.

My dear brothers and sisters, the same thing happened to you as happened to God’s churches in Christ Jesus that are in Judea. For you received the same kind of mistreatment from your fellow countrymen as they did from theirs, the Jews who killed both the Lord Jesus and the prophets and ran us out of town. They are offending God and hostile to everyone else by hindering us from speaking to the unbelievers so that they might be saved. By so doing they are constantly filling up to the brim the measure of their guilt, and punishment has come upon them at last!

Beloved friends, we may have been torn away from you physically for a season, but never in our hearts. For we have had intense longings and have endeavored to come and see in your faces the reflection of this great love. We miss you badly, and I personally wanted to come to you, trying again and again, but our adversary, Satan, blocked our way. For what will be our confident hope, our exhilarating joy, or our wonderful trophy that we will boast in before our Lord Jesus at his appearing? It is you! Yes, you are our glorious pride and joy!

The Letter of 1st Thessalonians, Chapter 2 (The Passion Translation)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 11th chapter of 2nd Kings where we read of a newly anointed young king, only 7 at the time:

[Athaliah of Judah]

Athaliah was the mother of Ahaziah. When she saw that her son was dead, she took over. She began by massacring the entire royal family. But Jehosheba, daughter of King Joram and sister of Ahaziah, took Ahaziah’s son Joash and kidnapped him from among the king’s sons slated for slaughter. She hid him and his nurse in a private room away from Athaliah. He didn’t get killed. He was there with her, hidden away for six years in The Temple of God. Athaliah, oblivious to his existence, ruled the country.

In the seventh year Jehoiada sent for the captains of the bodyguards and the Palace Security Force. They met him in The Temple of God. He made a covenant with them, swore them to secrecy, and only then showed them the young prince.

Then he commanded them, “These are your instructions: Those of you who come on duty on the Sabbath and guard the palace, and those of you who go off duty on the Sabbath and guard The Temple of God, are to join forces at the time of the changing of the guard and form a ring around the young king, weapons at the ready. Kill anyone who tries to break through your ranks. Your job is to stay with the king at all times and places, coming and going.”

The captains obeyed the orders of Jehoiada the priest. Each took his men, those who came on duty on the Sabbath and those who went off duty on the Sabbath, and presented them to Jehoiada the priest. The priest armed the officers with spears and shields originally belonging to King David, stored in The Temple of God. Well-armed, the guards took up their assigned positions for protecting the king, from one end of The Temple to the other, surrounding both Altar and Temple.

Then the priest brought the prince into view, crowned him, handed him the scroll of God’s covenant, and made him king. As they anointed him, everyone applauded and shouted, “Long live the king!”

Athaliah heard the shouting of guards and people and came to the crowd gathered at The Temple of God. Astonished, she saw the king standing beside the throne, flanked by the captains and heralds, with everybody beside themselves with joy, trumpets blaring. Athaliah ripped her robes in dismay and shouted, “Treason! Treason!”

Jehoiada the priest ordered the military officers, “Drag her outside and kill anyone who tries to follow her!” (The priest had said, “Don’t kill her inside The Temple of God.”) So they dragged her out to the palace’s horse corral; there they killed her.

Jehoiada now made a covenant between God and the king and the people: They were God’s people. Another covenant was made between the king and the people.

The people poured into the temple of Baal and tore it down, smashing altar and images to smithereens. They killed Mattan the priest in front of the altar.

Jehoiada then stationed sentries in The Temple of God. He arranged for the officers of the bodyguard and the palace security, along with the people themselves, to escort the king down from The Temple of God through the Gate of the Guards and into the palace. There he sat on the royal throne. Everybody celebrated the event. And the city was safe and undisturbed—they had killed Athaliah with the royal sword.

Joash was seven years old when he became king.

The Book of 2nd Kings, Chapter 11 (The Message)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for Wednesday, december 16 of 2020 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible, along with Today’s Psalms and Proverbs

A post by John Parsons about Light:

Chanukah is important because it stands in decided opposition to the relentless propaganda of humanism and its ongoing attempt to deny the reality of the Divine Presence in our lives... It makes bold the statement that reality is not reducible to merely natural categories, and it repudiates the “Hellenistic” conceit that all religions are true, and it especially rejects the arrogant notion that the LORD God of Israel is just "one more member" of some globalist pantheon... Chanukah adamantly denies the politically correct dogma that despair is the universal condition of humanity and that darkness will finally extinguish the light. Like the gospel message, Chanukah scandalizes human rationalism and the solipsism that affirms that “man is the measure of all things.” “For everyone who has been born of God overcomes the world (νικᾷ τὸν κόσμον); and this is the victory that has overcome the world- our faith” (1 John 5:4).

Think counterculturally. It is written: Do not let your mind be conformed (lit., “squeezed into the mold”) of this world, but be transformed (μεταμορφόω, i.e., metamorphosized like a caterpillar is changed into a butterfly) by the renewal of your mind (Rom. 12:2). The Greek word translated “renewal” is ἀνακαίνωσις, from ἀνά, meaning “into the midst,” and καινός, meaning “newness.” The idea here is that we are inwardly transfigured as we take hold of the truth of the new covenant and make it central to our lives. For this we must “put on the mind of Messiah” and repudiate the world’s values and vain philosophy (1 Cor. 2:16). "When the devil is called the god of this world, it is not because he made it, but because people serve him with worldliness." The “god of this world” blinds the eyes of those who do not believe so they cannot see the truth of the gospel of Messiah (2 Cor. 4:4). The philosophy of this world is always based on lies, propaganda, fear, lust, pride, anger, appeals to vanity, and so on. We must be vigilant, friends, and use discernment by testing the world’s assumptions against the truth of the Scriptures. [Hebrew for Christians]

https://hebrew4christians.com/

12.16.20 • Facebook

Today’s message from the Institute for Creation Research

December 16, 2020

Shielded by the Word

“I hate vain thoughts: but thy law do I love. Thou art my hiding place and my shield: I hope in thy word.” (Psalm 119:113-114)

The Bible is replete with military imagery. We are told to “wrestle” against the “spiritual wickedness in high places” and to be sure that we put on “the whole armour of God” (Ephesians 6:12-13). As the good soldiers of the King, we are told to “endure hardness” (2 Timothy 2:3) and expected, as His army, to be about the “pulling down of strong holds” (2 Corinthians 10:4).

David was a warrior king, and many of his psalms contain battle terms used both literally and figuratively to show the way God protects and provides for us in spiritual warfare. The “hiding place” David often mentioned was a secret retreat that provided shelter from the enemy (Psalm 32:7). The “shield” can refer to the same sort of retreat but is most often used to describe a soldier’s defensive buckler. Faith is our shield in spiritual warfare (Ephesians 6:16).

Thus, in this stanza (Psalm 119:113-120), the psalmist visualized God in the role of Protector and Captain. He looked to God for his life while being upheld “according unto thy word” (v. 116). Safety was no doubt prominent in his thoughts while affirming that he had continual respect for God’s statutes (v. 117).

The psalmist was also fearfully aware of God’s take-no-prisoners attitude toward those who are against Him (vv. 118-119). While our gracious Lord and King is patient toward all sinners, His ultimate plan is to “put down all rule and all authority and power” (1 Corinthians 15:24). Knowing this, the psalmist concluded: “My flesh trembleth for fear of thee; and I am afraid of thy judgments” (Psalm 119:120). Only a fool refuses to fear the Creator’s wrath. HMM III

A tweet by illumiNations about people working Together to translate and share the Scriptures

@IlluminationsBT: Continuing to thank God for Bible translation milestones reached in 2020, today we celebrate that the 10 CEOs of the illumiNations collective impact alliance met for their 100th monthly meeting since 2010! #thankfulthursday

12.10.20 • 5:21pm • Twitter

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enigmaticbughead · 7 years

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The Night We Met - Bughead (Requested)

~ I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you; take me back to the night we met ~

Betty Cooper x Jughead Jones

Word Count: 2862

Warnings: angst, language, major plot changes

Requested by @bughead-fic-request, in which Jughead (+ the gang) finds out it was Betty who’d murdered Jason Blossom.

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting this! It honestly wasn’t the easiest to write (which is a really good thing, because it challenges me to be better) because for me, writing stories while keeping the characters, well, in-character, is really important to me, and it was interesting to explore the “why”s and “what if”s that could drive Betty to do something this dark. I’m not sure if this was the vou were wanting, but it’s where my imagination ended up running (or writing) to. I hope you like it! Feedback is always welcomed (but be gentle with me, I’m fragile lol). As always, if you have any requests, please feel free to hmu. xx

The Night We Met

“Betty wouldn’t do that. Betty couldn’t do that.”

“She’s on the video, Jughead,” Veronica whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I wish it weren’t true, too.”

“I want to see it,” Jughead said, snatching the flash drive from Veronica’s hand, storming across the small living room of his father’s trailer toward Archie’s laptop, which sat open on the coffee table.

“Jug, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Archie tried to block him, but Jughead tore past him, plugging the device into the empty USB port. He sat on the edge of the shabby couch, elbows resting on his knees as they bounced up and down at a rate as rapid as the pounding of his heart.

In the grainy footage, Jason Blossom could be made out, sitting in the corner of the room, tied to what looked like a bar chair. The time stamp indicated it was 3 AM, the wee hours of July 11th. He was severely bruised, and the dried blood on his shirt indicated wounds. Just like his autopsy reported, he had been tortured from the Fourth of July up until his point, presumably by Serpents -- Serpents his father was covering for in Riverdale’s town jail.

The door opens, and in walks a very stiff Betty. The first thing he saw, sticking out like a sore thumb, was the pistol in her right hand, and his heart sinks into his stomach. The second thing his eyes land on is her left hand, clenching tightly, not doubt boring tiny, bloody dents into her skin. Her teeth are gritted, and he notices the sheen of sweat against her forehead.

Then, in behind her, steps none other than Clifford Blossom. He whispers something in her ear, and her hand unclenches, a single tear falling down her cheek, as she raises the gun, shooting Jason right between the eyes.

She lets out a small sob, then her expression goes blank, like she’s left herself. Clifford pats her shoulder, and a burly looking Serpent guides her out. Then, someone throws a sheet over the camera.

“Jughead?” Archie whispers, stepping closer to his best friend, trying to reach out to touch his shoulder, but Jughead flinches away from him. He stands, and his stomach heaves, threatening to empty its contents.

Betty, his Betty, who he believed to be incapable of hurting even a fly, murdered Jason Blossom. Granted, he was sure that she was in some way coerced by Clifford Blossom, but she didn’t tell anyone. She even went about an investigation to find his killer, all the while knowing who was responsible. She must not have felt too bad. She probably wanted him dead, after what he’d done to Polly.

Jughead grabbed his keys, bolting out the door, all the while hearing Veronica and Archie calling for him to come back.

He wasn’t really sure where he was driving to until he ended up in front of her house. The little two-story house his girlfriend lived in was sweet, homey, but it held a lot of secrets. The way Betty’s family crumbled almost made Jughead grateful for his own; sure things were shitty, but at least no one was trying to put on an act. No one was pretending to be perfect. He knew what to expect.

He parked on the curb, turning off the engine and getting out, quietly making his way around back to the ladder by Betty’s bedroom window. It was a path he knew well, a path he’d made on many nights when he couldn’t sleep, or when she needed someone to help chase away the darkness.

He climbed up as carefully and quietly as he could, knowing that her parents were likely asleep. Once he got to the top, he stopped, seeing her asleep on her bed. She was on top of her covers, curled up into a ball. She looked so peaceful. He couldn’t imagine someone as beautiful and sweet as she was could possibly ever do what she did, even though he’d seen it with his own eyes.

She usually would leave the window unlocked for him, just in case, and he gently pushed up to confirm that it was, opening it as quietly as he could. He climbed in and crossed to where she slept, kicking off his shoes and lying down next to her.

She gasped suddenly, and he gently put an arm around her protectively.

“It’s okay Betts, it’s just me.”

She turned over, looking up at him with adorably sleepy eyes, snuggling into him. “Hey. Couldn’t sleep?”

“Something like that,” he murmured, lightly scratching her back through her pink tank top.

He wanted so badly to confront her. Needed to confront her. To demand answers about what happened July 11th. But he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Couldn’t bring himself to shatter the fantasy of Betty Cooper.

Of course, he’d known it was too good to be true. He’d known that the universe wasn’t about to let him be happy. Everyone he’d ever loved had let him down, and he knew deep down that Betty would, too, even if she didn’t mean to. But he never dreamed it would be anything like this.

They laid in silence for a few moments, and it was so quiet, Jughead swore he could hear their heartbeats synchronizing with each other, beating as one.

Fuck, he’d never be able to not love her.

“You killed Jason,” he whispered.

“What?” Betty sat up, her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “Whatever gave you—”

“I saw the video, Betty,” he gently took his hand into his, “listen, if you’re in some sort of trouble, with the Blossoms, we can help you…”

“Juggie, what are you…?”

He sighed and closed his eyes. Her denial caused his temper to rise, and the hurt and betrayal he felt manifested itself in his anger.

“It’s all on video, Betty. You did it. You shot Jason. You killed him. So please don’t lie,” he took in her blank expression, and it infuriated him even further. “I’m literally such a fucking idiot. That’s the whole reason you even showed interest in me, right? Cause you knew I was writing that book, and you wanted to make sure I didn’t suspect you, right? God, you really had me fooled, you know that? I was so happy, for the first time in so long. And it was all a lie. All of it. You never had any feelings for me. I can’t believe I fell for it. For you.”

“Juggie, I love you,” she whispered, placing her hands on his cheeks. It was the first time she’d ever uttered the words, though she’d meant them for a long time. “Juggie—” she tried to make him look at her, but he wouldn’t. Instead he coldly grabbed her wrists, moving her hands away.

Tears began to stream freely down her face. “I didn’t kill Jason! I couldn’t do something like that. No matter how he hurt Polly, I would never…”

She looked at his stoic expression and her mind wondered back to the night of “full dark, no stars”. To the things Veronica said she had done to Chuck, things she adamantly denied, things she truly believed she didn’t do. The most terrifying realization washed over her, causing her heart to jump into her throat and her chest and stomach to feel hollow. “You said there was a video?” she croaked out.

He looked at her panicked expression, and he understood.

Betty Cooper may have killed Jason, but she doesn’t remember pulling the trigger.

After the trial, it was obvious that Clifford Blossom was to blame for everything. He hoped that having someone else do the dirty work for him would cover his tracks, and for extra good measure he framed F.P. Turns out, on the morning of July 11th, he’d offered Betty ride home from her internship, knowing from Cheryl about her tendency toward spiraling. But instead of taking her home, he took her to the bar on the southside, where he had the Serpents push her and push her, saying and doing unspeakable things, until she snapped. When she came back to herself and had no recollection of what had happened, Clifford believed his plan to be foolproof. And if it weren’t for a lone security camera and some nosy kids, it would’ve been.

His exploits didn’t really serve their purpose; neither Jughead’s father or Betty ended up serving any time for their involvement in Jason Blossom’s murder and if anything, their involvement worsened his sentence, especially Betty’s, because she was so helpless in it all. She ended up being sent to the Sisters of Quiet Mercy, because she was deemed a threat to herself and others.

The plan was to get her treated so she could rejoin society, but her guilt was overwhelming, causing the darkness inside to consume her, and it hasn’t released her since.

It took Jughead over four years to go visit her. He couldn’t bear to think of Betty, the first girl he ever loved, in a mental institution, all alone and scared of her own shadow, the way he’d remembered Polly being. But in the last six months he’d finally started to see a therapist, something he probably should’ve done when he was way younger, who suggested that he should see Betty, to give him closure on the whole situation. He suggested that the lack of closure was one of the main reasons Jughead, while he was twenty-years-old and practically a man, had been unable to maintain a healthy relationship since Betty. He believed that seeing her would help put it all to rest in his mind and in his heart.

“Listen, Jughead,” Alice Cooper turned to the raven-haired boy after she’d signed them into the Sisters’ visitor’s registry, “Betty is really sick. And not the kind of sick that we claimed Polly was to keep her away,” she swallowed. “She’s gotten worse over time, so they’ve got her on a lot of medications, to help with the mood swings and the disassociation, but it ends up making her really out of it. Almost catatonic, sometimes. She doesn’t even recognize me or Polly anymore when we come to visit, and she tried to assault Hal last time he was here. It’s part of the reason he doesn’t come around anymore. Just remember that, so if she doesn’t remember you or if she lashes out, just don’t take it personal, okay?” she patted his arm gently, tears beginning to well in her eyes and he nodded. “Okay, honey. I’m just gonna wait here, so you can have your time with her.”

He knew that wasn’t why she was staying behind. She was staying behind because it hurt to see her daughter like that. To see her waste away, unable to escape herself.

“Thank-you, Mrs. Cooper,” Jughead said, before turning to follow a nurse down the long corridor and out the back door into a small garden.

“She’s right over on that bench,” the nurse pointed in her general direction before disappearing back into the building.

When he saw her, he knew it was her, even though she wasn’t facing him. She was staring at a rose bush, still as he’d ever seen her.

He approached her cautiously. “Hey, Betty. It’s me, Jughead, from high school. Do you remember me?”

She didn’t respond, didn’t even acknowledge him. He sat down beside her, and watched the rose bush with her.

“It’s pretty,” he noted. “I’d love roses, if it weren’t for the thorns.” They sat in silence for several more minutes, before he sighed, “Okay, so listen, I’ve been going to therapy, which I know is a shock, and I’m surprised between you and Archie that I wasn’t forced into seeing a shrink like ten years ago… but anyway he thinks I need to talk to you. To get closure. So, I want you to know I don’t blame you for anything. The night I found out what had happened to Jason, I said a lot of really awful things I didn’t mean. And I should’ve known better. If you knew anything could even possibly hurt someone else, you’d never do it, at least not willingly. I should’ve known that.”

He stared out into the distance, past the rose bush and watched the fountain that ran nearby. “How is Archie, by the way?” he paused, as though he was waiting for her to answer, but of course, she didn’t. “You know, you probably see more of him than I do these days. Your mom told me he brings his guitar out here sometimes and plays for you. Says he’s one of the only people who can actually get you to smile.” Jughead felt a little twinge of guilt. Even though he knew that Archie didn’t have any romantic feelings for Betty, he knew he loved her a lot, he knew how much it must’ve hurt Archie to see her like this, too. He shouldn’t have left him alone in that. He definitely should’ve been there for Betty, but Archie needed him, too.

“I’m sorry I’ve never visited,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “And I can’t stop imagining that if I had just been there, maybe you could’ve gotten past this, and it eats me up inside, Betty. But it hurt too much. And I know that is so selfish, and I know I’ve never really told you this, but I loved you, Betty. And I still love you so goddamn much, and it just was too much, you know?”

“I wish I could go back, Betty,” he whispered. “Not just to that night but back to when I met you and Archie. Do you remember? Good old seventh grade, when I transferred from the south side of town. It was right after I’d gotten out of juvie for playing with matches,” he laughed at the ridiculousness of it, trying to pin arson on a ten year-old, “my dad thought getting out of that part of town would be better for our family. And everybody thought I was so weird. But not you. You were the sweetest person I think I’ve ever known, even then. You sat with me at lunch, and you made Archie sit with me, too. I met my best friend because of, you know that? Honestly, I feel like I liked you since then. It may seem silly, and I definitely didn’t understand it all, but I wanted to be around you all the time. And then high school started and you started to get feelings for Archie so I stepped back, ‘cause I just wanted you to be happy. But I wish I hadn’t. I wish I had been there for you. Wish I’d known what you were going through, so that maybe I could’ve helped you, and maybe we wouldn’t be here right now. I mean who knows, maybe by this time in our lives me and you and Archie would all be off going to some college together, or on some crazy adventure somewhere.”

Jughead couldn’t tell which was lonelier: sitting on a couch with his therapist constantly responding to everything he said with a bland, “so how does that make you feel,” or sitting here, beside a woman who he used to know so well and loved so much and getting nothing.

“God, this is useless,” he croaked out, a lump forming in the back of his throat. He took off his beanie and buried his face in his hands to conceal the tears that were flowing from his eyes.

After a moment, he felt the slightest weight on his shoulder. He peered over to see Betty’s small hand resting on his shoulder. Her eyes were trained on his face, and though they were dazed, there was a tenderness in them that Jughead had missed seeing so much. The tears flowed faster.

After he’d managed to slow them down some, he gingerly took her hand into his, and gently brought to his lips, kissing it carefully, not wanting to scare her.

She looked deep in thought, and her eyebrows furrowed as she struggled with her speech, “J-J-Juggie.” A few tears began to fall from her own cheeks.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered, letting their hands fall between them, still intertwined.

She let out a small smile, and Jughead knew that even though she was buried deep, way deep, the Betty he’d fallen in love with was still in there somewhere.

They spent the rest of their time together in silence, quietly holding hands, looking at the flowers and watching the birds and passersby, until visiting hours ended, and Jughead was forced to separate himself from her.

He never cried over anyone as much as he’d cried over Betty that night when he was in bed and alone with his thoughts.

He never thought it was possible to love someone as much as he loved her, so much that it literally hurt, like a hollowness in his chest where she used to be, where she was supposed to be. He prayed that maybe one day, she’d be able to fill it again.

252 notes · View notes

hrrytomlinson · 7 years

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here are a bunch of fics I’ve enjoyed and loved reading throughout the month of may. I recommend that you read these great fics in june, if you haven’t already.

(all fics with a star are my favorites and if there are two stars then it was a favorite favorite)

1. Dance to the Distortion (96k)*

Louis accidentally breaks Harry's camera lens and in order to get it fixed, they decide to participate in a romantic couples study. The only issue is that they are not actually couple. Well that and the fact they cannot stand each other.

2. Above Your Head (57k)**

What happens when an unstoppable object meets an immovable force?

Space AU. Louis is an astronaut. Harry works for Mission Control. They don't get along.

3. Curveball (15k)

“So when are you two getting married?”

Harry froze. Shit, shit, shit, this completely went against his whole ‘keep it casual’ stance he’d been planning on keeping. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say.

Louis shrugged. “I don’t know, I mean, we haven’t really discussed that.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “I mean, if it happens, then it happens. You know… Whatever.”

Whatever? Harry thought to himself. Did I really just say ‘whatever’ to when I’m getting married? When it's all I've been thinking of for weeks?

Harry couldn't believe himself. He knew he told himself to keep it casual and not put too much pressure on Louis for the idea of getting engaged, but for fuck’s sake, that was probably too casual.

Does Louis think I don’t want to get married now? What if he thinks I’m not ready for it? What if I just put him off proposing even longer?

He couldn’t shake the fear that he’d really just messed up.

Or, the Runner on Third sequel where Harry really wants to get engaged, and Louis doesn't seem to be picking up on that. Harry may or may not drop a few hints that are anything but subtle.

4. My Sweetest Downfall (42k)**

Louis is a retired guardian angel. After the death of his last charge, he became jaded. Humans die—what use is prolonging the inevitable?

He's more than happy to forget about humanity altogether until one day, when Louis is pulled from his desk job for a new assignment: protect One Direction's Harry Styles. It doesn't help that there's something about Harry that Louis can't resist, and it's making him question everything he's ever known. Humans are strictly off limits, and breaking that rule means risking everything, but Harry just might be worth it.

This is a story about forgiveness and discovery, featuring an angel who wants to be a little more human and a human who is so much more than he seems.

5. Suited For You (4k)*

“Louis Tomlinson, you have had that suit for almost ten years. It is time to get a new one, and it is time to get a good one.” Unfortunately, he could tell his mother wouldn’t budge. The discussion was over. They said goodbye, and Louis immediately dialed his sister Lottie.

She picked up straight away, “You have to get the suit, Lou.”

“Argh!” Louis yelled, hanging up on her. He missed his old flip phone, hanging up on someone was so much more satisfying.

Louis' family convinces him that he needs a new suit for some upcoming special events in his life.

6. The World Turned Upside Down (71k)**

In September 1984, Harry Styles starts at Manchester Polytechnic with two goals: to take pictures and to join the Lesbian and Gay Society. He’s never paid much attention to the news, but everyone he meets in Manchester supports the miners. He realises how right they are when he meets Louis Tomlinson, a striking miner who flirts with him. A month later they are both at the founding meeting of Manchester Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners, trying to bring down the government. Through letters and visits they build a relationship, in a world very much not of their own choosing.

Manchester and Doncaster in the 1980s are grim, hopeful and alive. Niall is president of the Young Labour club, Nick Grimshaw is in love with the singer of an up and coming band, Fizzy wants to know more about the women of Greenham Common and Harry and Louis are brave.

A Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners/Pride AU.

7. Nocturnal Creatures Are Not So Prudent (24k)

Louis spins a finger in midair, like he’s indicating someone to turn around, staring pointedly at Liam as the faucet turns itself on and the can rinses itself in the sink behind him. Liam, moon burn him, doesn't rise to the bait, choosing instead to lean back on his stool and wrapping his hands around his own mug.

“Anyway, like I was saying and that you were ignoring, there's this new club near my school and I want you to go with me. Could do you some good, getting out once in awhile.”

Louis is a white witch with a little black cat named Hemlock and a best human friend Liam (they're a lot like Samantha Stephens and Louise Tate). When he's dragged out to a new club Liam's heard about from a friend and classmate, Louis comes face to face with that which witches do not touch: a charming vampire by the name of Harry.

8. When It’s Late At Night (25k)

Louis has zero interest in an ex-boybander turned solo artist when his appearance on the show gets announced, but that's exactly who he gets stuck with when Harry Styles shows up at the Late Late show to promote the release of his debut album. For an entire fucking week.

Or The Late Late prompt that we all need to get through this excruciatingly hard time.

9. Why Can’t It Be Like That (63k)

Louis Tomlinson, head of his local hospital's charity fund, suddenly finds himself in the heart of the Royal family when his mother marries the third son of the reigning monarch. Such an upset in lifestyle brings a lot of changes for Louis, one of them being the need for a stylist.

Enter Harry Styles, a cutting edge fashion stylist who loves his job and prides himself on his passion. The first time he sees Louis Tomlinson on the cover of a tabloid he wants to dress him, style him, make him as beautiful as Harry knows he could be. When he's hired to do just that, he knows this will be a perfect partnership. That is, until he actually meets the man.

A fashion AU with a royal twist, where Louis doesn't need a stylist, Harry's thrilled to have a real life Barbie doll, and they're both very wrong about each other.

10. Looking Through You (41k)*

Just as Louis and Liam were starting out in the music industry, writing and producing for up and coming artists, a fateful meeting with new pop singer Harry Styles changes everything. Four years later, just as Harry is set to embark on his next world tour, a drunken confession causes a rift between once inseparable friends. As Harry tries to make sense of his feelings for Louis, he begins writing his next album to express them as it may be the only way to break through the walls that Louis has built between them.

11. Never Be Ready (7k)

“Remember the documentary film program in Los Angeles? The one that I got waitlisted for? They called me this morning and said that a spot opened up and they offered it to me.”

“That’s great!” Louis says, and he means it. “When do you come back?”

He and Harry have spent every summer of their lives together. Surely Harry won’t ruin that perfect record.

“The middle of August,” Harry says, clearly thrilled at the prospect of spending ten weeks in California, and Louis’ heart sinks to his stomach like a stone in the sea.

A high school AU where a summer without Harry makes Louis realize that he wants to be a little bit more than best friends.

12. Never Gonna Dance Again (55k)**

Harry is quiet for a moment and his fingers feel like they’re burning past the fabric of Louis’ jumper, branding his skin. “Can I kiss you?"

This is where Louis should walk away and leave Harry to pirouette and cambré by himself in the faint moonlight shining through the windows. He is a spy and Harry is a dancer. There are lines that should not be crossed.

Louis surges forward.

Louis is a spy and Harry is a dancer. The only real thing they know is each other.

13. Atlas At Last (83k)**

He doesn’t know what he had been expecting out of the road trip itself besides burping contests and too much shitty gas station food with Oli and Stan, but in the brief moment before Harry ambles up his driveway, Louis idly wonders if this is about to become some sort of Gay Coming of Age story.

Maine to California in ten days. In which Zayn’s an open-shirt hippie they meet somewhere in Ohio, Liam’s the pastor’s son running away from home, and Niall’s the number they call on the bathroom wall.

It’s 1978. Harry and Louis are just trying to get to San Fran in time for the Queen concert.

14. Adore You (66k)**

“We invited our new acquaintances from uptown. You’ve simply got to meet their oldest son!” said his mother with a flourish, and suddenly it became abundantly clear as to why his parents had so adamantly demanded he join them in Deansville for the entirety of the summer.

Against his wishes, Harry spends the holidays at his family’s summer estate, and is reluctantly pulled into a courtship he didn’t ask for. Harry doesn’t want to get married, but Louis does. They don’t fit, but then again they really, really do.

Vaguely set in the 1920’s. Headpieces, jazz, fashionable canes, and flapper dresses, and that.

15. We’ve Got to Get Away from Here (23k)**

“It is my understanding that you are the most comprehensive member of this agency in the field of extraterrestrial life, is that right?” the agent asks. He’s trying to sound calm, but Louis can tell he’s shaken as well.

“Um, I guess so,” Louis says, glancing over at the man in the blanket again.

Suddenly, Louis’s blood runs cold. There’s something off about the man, something in his gaze, something Louis can’t put his finger on. It’s terribly unsettling, but excitement bubbles in his gut.

Or, Louis is an FBI agent who likes to think himself a paranormal expert, and Harry is alien that somehow ended up in his office.

16. There’s No Antidote for This Curse (26k)**

New York City, 1924. Harry Styles is an Auror working for MACUSA. Louis Tomlinson is an investigative reporter for the Daily Prophet in London. They haven't seen each other for years, but when bodies start showing up in Central Park, Louis travels to New York to cover the story. The two work together to uncover the killer, and uncover a few other secrets along the way.

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captaincanarygotmelike · 7 years

Text

Fic: Voices Carry ch. 15

I'm back!!! It feels like it's been almost two months since I last posted something because it has. Oops. Anyway, I've returned with another chapter!

Read on AO3

Read on Fanfiction.net

Sara returned to the living room nearly an hour after she’d left with Avery.

“My child conned me into falling asleep with her again,” Sara said, brushing her tousled hair out of her eyes.

She sat next to Leonard on the couch, resting her legs across his and wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Anyway,” she continued, “Avery asked me something I didn’t exactly expect.”

“And what might that’ve been?”

“Well, first she wanted to know if we were gonna get married.”

“And?” Leonard smirked.

“I told her you’d have to ask me first,” she teased. Leonard rolled his eyes.

“But what she really wanted to ask me was if she would be able to call you dad.”

“Really?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Sara nodded, “I said she should ask you at some point and that the three of us would all sit down and talk about it, but I’d like to hear your two cents first.”

Leonard was quiet, with a look of consideration on his face.

Sara had learned through the past few weeks that Leonard let her take control of their relationship when things were new. Sara had kissed him first, Sara initiated PDA around the cabin, Sara had first started the discussion about getting married a few days ago. She knew that Leonard wanted to experience these new milestones, he just didn’t know how, so he let Sara take the reins.

He wanted to have this discussion about Avery calling him Dad, but Sara knew that he needed her to get it started.

“Look,” she said, “I know this is a conversation you never imagined having, and I understand why you’d be weirded out by it, but just so you know, I’d be okay with Ave calling you Dad if you are.”

“I’m not uncomfortable about it,” he said, “But I’m not actually her dad. What’ll happen if her actual dad shows up one day.”

“I’ll tell him you were here first,” Sara replied, “Because you were.”

“I just feel like I might not deserve the title,” he said, and Sara could see the uncertainty on his face, “You were there for her first steps and first words and first day of school. I’ve been here for, what, two months?”

“First of all, it’s definitely been longer than that. Second of all, she’s only four. There’ll be more firsts. You helped her with her first school project and you heard her first swear word,” she tipped her head to the side in consideration, “You rescued her from her first attempted kidnapping.”

She chuckled and Leonard even managed a smile.

“And yes,” she continued, “I was there for her first steps and her first words and all those other firsts because I’m doing my job as her mom, and she’s had me her whole life. Her dad didn’t even both sticking around until she was born. That was a choice he chose to make, but his selfishness doesn't mean that Avery never gets to have a father. Clearly she thinks you’re up for the job. And so do I.”

Leonard nodded, looking deep into her turquoise eyes.

“But,” she said, leaning away from him and stretching her legs out in front of her, “Don’t let me lead you in one particular direction. You get to make up your own mind.”

“Are you two done yet?” Cisco asked, striding into the room with a bowl of popcorn in one hand, “Game of Thrones is on in five minutes and it won’t be any fun if you’re being all couple-y in the background.”

“Yes, we’re done,” Leonard rolled his eyes, “Put on your show, Ramon.”

They all sat and watched Game of Thrones together, and when it was over, they all gradually traipsed off to bed until Leonard and Sara were the only ones left in the room.

“Did you hear Lisa and Cisco decided to move in together?” Sara asked him.

“Yes,” Leonard rolled his eyes, but the irritation on his face didn’t last long. He was happy for his sister, even if he didn’t always show it, “She’s gonna start moving out when we go back to Central City.”

“You know, she doesn’t have to be the only one.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe,” Sara said, “When we get back, you could move in with Ave and me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not?” she replied, “I mean, we’re already pretty much living together now.”

“Do you think Avery would be okay with it?”

“I’m pretty sure you could literally kidnap Avery and she’d be okay with it,” she joked. They heard the sound of a bedroom door open, “Speak of the devil.”

They heard the sound of little feet padding against the hardwood floors.

“Woah!” Sara said, “What are you doing up?”

Leonard turned in his seat to see Avery running into the room.

“I woke up!” she said, smiling innocently.

“I see that,” Sara replied, “but you have to go back to bed. It’s way too late for you to be up.”

“You’re up,” Avery said, climbing into Sara’s lap.

“Yes, but I wasn’t awake at five in the morning.”

“Yeah you were ‘cos I woke you up.”

“I wasn’t awake by choice,” Sara corrected, “C’mon, you have to go back to bed.”

“I tried,” Avery whined, rolling over so she was hanging over the side of the couch, “I can’t sleep.”

“Hey Ave,” Leonard said, leaning over to pick something up off the side table next to him, “After you went to bed, I looked through my bookshelves and i found this.”

He held up a thin hardcover book. Avery looked at the cover.

“I can’t read,” she said.

“I know,” he replied, “It’s The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.”

Avery’s face brightened.

“That’s the movie we watched today!”

“I know,” he said again.

“Mommy!” Avery said, pulling on Sara’s hand, “Can Lenny read the Narnia book to me? I promise I’ll really go to sleep this time.”

“Lenny can if he wants to,” Sara replied, “But I’m going to bed.”

She planted a kiss on Leonard’s lips and another on the top of Avery’s head and stood from the couch.

“Goodnight,” she called over her shoulder as she headed towards her and Leonard’s bedroom,

“G’night Mommy,” Avery said.

Leonard stood from the couch and picked up Avery.

“Let’s go,” he said, “One chapter and then you have to go to bed.”

Avery nodded, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

He carried her to her bedroom and set her down on the bed. He sat next to her and opened the book to the first chapter.

“Wait!” she screeched and began fishing through her quilt and sheets.

“What?”

“I need my bunny,” she replied.

“Oh,” he nodded understandingly and waited patiently until she found her bunny.

“Okay,” she said, once she’d extracted her bunny from a fold in the sheets, “I’m ready now.”

He cracked open the book and started to read.

Leonard read Avery the first chapter of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, and when he was done, he closed the book and set it on the nightstand.

“So what’d you think?” he asked Avery.

“It’s good,” she replied.

“Lisa liked it,” he told her, “I think she was your age when I read this to her.”

“Can we read more?” Avery asked.

“Tomorrow,” he replied, “Right now you have to go to sleep.”

He moved to get out of the bed, but Avery stopped him.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Leonard replied, sitting back down.

“How come you talk about taking care of Lisa lots?” she asked, “How come you took care of her?”

“Well,” he said slowly, “When I was growing up, I didn’t exactly have a mom like you do.”

“Like how I don’t have a dad?”

“Right,” he nodded. That wasn’t exactly the whole story, but Avery didn’t need the whole story. Not yet, anyway, “My mom wasn’t around, so my dad was the one who had to take care of me and Lisa, but the thing is, my dad didn’t really want to be a dad. He thought it was too hard and he wasn’t very good at it, so he stopped trying. Someone still had to take care of Lisa — she was about your age then — and I was around so I decided I would.”

“Oh,” Avery replied, “Okay.” Then she added, “My mommy’s a good mommy, right?”

“Your mommy is the best mommy I’ve ever seen,” he answered, “Anything you need and she’ll be there. She’ll always be there for you.” He hesitated a moment and then added, “And so will I.”

Avery nodded.

“But now,” Leonard stood from the bed, “I need you to go to sleep.”

He leaned down to pull the quilt up over Avery’s legs and as he did, Avery sat up and wrapped her arms around Leonard in the tightest hug her tiny body could muster. Leonard pulled Avery closer to him, kissing the top of her head.

“I mean it,” he said when she released him, “If you ever need anything, I’ll always be here. I promise.”

The next few days were spent packing up the cabin. They had all definitely settled into the house in the few weeks they’d lived there, and it took a lot longer to move back out than they’d expected.

It took a while, but three days after Leonard and Avery had read the first chapter of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, they were packed up and ready to head back to the city.

Most of the cabin’s temporary inhabitants were happy to be returning to their normal lives, all except one.

Avery had been having a particularly rough time with leaving the cabin, and the day they finally left was the worst of them all.

It hadn't been a good morning to begin with. First, there had been something cataclysmically wrong with one of Avery's socks that couldn’t be fixed with any amount of adjusting. Then she couldn't find a very specific little plastic doll with a very specific purple dress that she needed right at that very minute. By that point, she was dangerously close to a meltdown that Sara really didn’t want to have to deal with.

“I don’t wanna go,” Avery said adamantly, her sneakers lighting up as they stomped against the deck floor.

“Avery,” Sara said patiently, looking up at Avery on the wooden front porch from her spot on the driveway, “Lenny is waiting in the car for us. Let’s go.”

“I don’t wanna go!” she repeated.

“Don’t you wanna see your friends again?” Sara asked, aware that she was grasping at straws at this point, “When we get back, we can call Natalie and Seth and see if they wanna play.”

“No, I wanna stay here,” Avery shook her head.

“I’m sorry to tell you, babe, but you’re gonna be the only one here,” she told her, “Everyone else went home.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yep,” she told her, “We’re the only ones still here. C’mon, get in the car.”

Avery pouted up at her mother until Sara, tired of arguing, strode up the porch stairs and scooped her up. She squirmed frantically in her arms, but to no avail because in less than a minute, she was strapped into her carseat.

“I’m very upset, Mommy,” Avery said, crossing her arms over the buckles of her seat.

“I know,” Sara said understandingly, “I think you’ll be okay, though.”

They made it back home in just under an hour.

“We’re home!” Avery exclaimed once they were all out of the car.

“I thought you didn’t want to come home,” Sara said skeptically.

“All my toys are here,” she responded as if it was obvious.

“Okay,” Sara replied, shrugging in defeat.

“Never a dull moment?” Leonard commented, smirking at Sara as he walked around the car.

“No kidding,” she said, watching her daughter scramble up the stone steps of the apartment building. She turned to face Leonard, “You ready for this?” she asked him, “You ready to move in?”

“Yes,” he nodded, and then added, “Especially considering my other option is living with Cisco Ramon.”

“I can’t believe he’ll be living across the hall,” she laughed, intertwining her fingers with his as they walked into the apartment together, Avery running a few feet ahead of them.

“Mommy?” Avery said one morning, a few days after Leonard had finished moving in. She was sitting in a leather arm chair that had made its way into the living room from Leonard’s apartment at some point during the last week.

“Yes, Avery,” Sara replied.

“Where’d this chair come from?” she asked.

“That’s Lenny’s chair,” she answered.

“How come Lenny’s chair is here?”

“You remember what I said about how Len is gonna live with us, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, he brought some of his own stuff with him, like his clothes and some of his furniture.”

“Why?”

“Because now it’s part his house too,” she explained, “Is that okay?”

“Yeah!” Avery exclaimed, her eyes shining, “I love him here so much ‘cos yesterday he made me a grilled cheese shaped like a cat and it tasted so good!”

Sara was so grateful that Avery was taking everything so well. She knew her life would be a hell of a lot harder if Avery was unhappy, but she was taking everything better than Sara could have anticipated.

She wished everyone in her life would be as supportive. Her father had called her the night before to check in and Sara had decided to rip off the bandage and tell him about Leonard.

He had, unsurprisingly, not been pleased and the argument that had ensued ended with Sara shouting, “Oh my God, Dad, I don’t need you to vet the people I date!” and then hanging up the phone.

The front door opened and Avery, Leonard, and a little pink bike with shiny training wheels entered the apartment.

“I take it that didn’t go well,” Leonard said.

“You heard that?” Sara cringed.

“Yeah, we could hear you all the way down the hallway!” Avery chirped.

“Great,” Sara sighed. She put her phone down on the coffee table and attempted to maintain her composure.

“Lenny, let’s go!” Avery called behind her as she ran into her bedroom.

“Just a second,” he told her, sitting on the couch next to Sara.

“So how did the bike-riding go?” she asked.

“She did a good job,” Leonard nodded, “She still won’t let me let go of the handle bars, but she didn’t scream when I tried this time.”

“Progress,” Sara said, pumping her fist in the air.

Her phone vibrated loudly against the glass table. Sara turned it over to see that Laurel was calling her.

“If my dad tattled on me to my sister, I’m gonna flip a —” she glanced at Avery to make sure she wasn’t paying attention before mouthing “— shit.”

“You should answer her,” Leonard advised her.

“Lenny!” Avery called again from her bedroom.

“What does she want?” Sara asked, glancing over her shoulder to Avery’s bedroom.

“I said I’d read more of the Narnia book to her, but I can stay here with you while you talk to your sister if you want.”

“No, it’s okay,” Sara waved him off, “Go read to Avie.”

He nodded and said, “Good luck with Laurel,” placing a comforting hand on her shoulder before heading into Avery’s bedroom.

That had been two days ago and in the time since, her sister had come around. Her father was still a work in progress, but Sara was trying to not let it be a big deal. She was happy and that’s all that mattered to her.

Well, almost.

There was one person in Sara’s life whose opinion mattered to her, and that person was coming to visit them for the first time since Sara moved.

“When’s she gonna get here?” Avery asked urgently, kicking her little legs against the leather chair.

“A couple minutes, honey,” Sara answered.

“Where’s Lenny?” she asked.

“He’s at the grocery store. He’ll be back home soon too. Relax.”

Avery had just woken up from a very long nap and now seemed to have an inexorable amount of energy.

She’d been tearing around the apartment in crazed circles until she crashed into a table and almost broke a lamp, at which point Sara sent her outside to run laps up and down the hallway. She grew bored of that after a while, so Sara encouraged her to play a game of her own invention called “See-How-Long-You-Can-Sit-In-That-Chair-Without-Getting-Up”.

“When can I get up?” Avery asked.

“You could get up now, but that you mean you lose,” she advised her, “But the game will end when she gets here.”

“But when’s she gonna get here?”

“A few minutes, honey, like I said.”

Sara went back into the kitchen, where she was putting the finishing touches on lunch — something her mother called a “crudité platter”, but was really just a lot of small food on a big plate, plus a peanut butter sandwich, pretzels, and hummus for Avery.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door and Sara heard Avery launch herself out of the chair.

“Avery, ask who it is!” Sara called from the kitchen, but to no avail because Avery was already undoing the chain and tugging the door open.

“Aunt Lissy!” Avery screeched and Sara entered the living room just in time to see Avery throw herself into Felicity Smoak’s arms.

“Avery!” Felicity explained, swinging her into her arms and whirling her through the air, “You’re getting so big!”

“I’m two whole inches taller than three feet,” she said matter-of-factly after Felicity put her down.

“Wow!” Felicity looked up and saw Sara walking towards her, “Sara!”

She crossed the distance between them and hugged her friend.

“Oh my God, you have no idea how much I missed you.”

“I missed you too!” Sara replied.

Felicity stepped away from her and looked around the apartment.

“Your place is so nice!” she exclaimed, “You’ve done such a good job with it!” She pointed to the leather chair Avery had been sitting in, “Is that new?”

“Uh, in a sense,” Sara responded nervously.

This was no regular visit with Felicity. Sara, after a long internal debate, had decided that she didn’t want her best friend to hear about Leonard in a text or over the phone or — even worse — from Laurel of her dad, whose personal opinions Leonard could prematurely decide what Felicity thought of the man Sara loved. She’d taken it upon her self to invite Felicity to Central City for the weekend so she could meet Leonard in person.

“Why don’t we sit?” Sara suggested, “I’ll bring out food in a minute; I'm just waiting on a few things.”

One of those things was Leonard himself. Like Sara had told Avery, Leonard was at the grocery store. She knew he’d be back in a few minutes, but the waiting was killing her.

Sara realized that Felicity’s opinion of Leonard mattered to her more than both Laurel’s and her father’s.

Five years ago — back when she was still pregnant with Avery — Felicity was the only person in her life who had been by her side since day one. Even her mother had been a little disappointed in Sara at first. Sure, she’d come around relatively quickly, but still, Felicity was the only one supporting her from the beginning when no one else — not even her parents or her sister — did.

Felicity had actually sat in the waiting room the whole time Sara was in labor and was the first person to hold Avery after she was born.

She was Sara’s best friend; her opinion mattered to her and Sara wasn’t sure what she’d do if Felicity didn’t like Leonard.

“So Avery,” Felicity said, pulling Sara back into the living room where they were all sitting, “What’s new with you now that you’re so grown up? What’s your favorite color?”

“Purple,” Avery replied as Felicity lifted her into her lap.

“Awesome! How about…what’s your favorite animal?”

“An elephant. I have ten in my room.”

“You have ten elephants?” Felicity responded.

“Uh-huh,” she nodded confidently.

“In your room?”

“Thirty!” Avery urgently corrected.

“Eighteen, thirty, same thing,” Felicity shrugged, “You have thirty elephants in your room. Are they real?”

“Yup!”

“You have thirty real elephants in your room? That’s awesome!”

“And now I’m gonna get three more and them I’m gonna have twenty-seven-hundred!”

“Well, that does not add up, but I’m happy for you,” Felicity replied. She turned to Sara, “How’ve you been? How’s work?”

“It’s good,” she shrugged, “I think the city’s still pretty spooked after the earthquake incident.”

“That’s right!” Felicity exclaimed, “I forgot to ask: how are you guys after that — I mean, obviously you’re okay; you’re right here, but did you get out of the city okay? Did you find a place to stay? How was Avie after?”

“Ave’s fine,” Sara answered, ending Felicity’s stream of questions, “And yeah, we had somewhere to stay — a place up in the mountains.”

“Really?” Felicity asked skeptically, “That sounds kinda sketchy.”

“No, it was fine,” Sara reassured her, “It’s—”

“It’s Lenny’s house,” Avery interrupted, “and he hid it from us ‘cos he didn’t want a lotta people there.”

“Who’s Lenny?” Felicity asked, turning to Sara.

“Uh, well, he’s—” Sara was cut off yet again as the door to the apartment opened and Leonard walked in with a plastic grocery bag in each hand.

“Felicity,” Sara said, jumping off her chair and walking over to where Leonard was standing, “This is Leonard — my boyfriend.”

It's important to note that this story was supposed to have eight chapter and now it's slated to have 18. Whoops. Also, I'm thinking (read: still very on the fence) about introducing Avery's biological dad into the story. Would you guys like for him to be a new character that I create or someone we've seen on Legends or Arrow? Let me know and keep in mind that I may ultimately decide to not include him at all.

#lot #lot ff #captain canary #cc ff #legends of tomorrow #voices carry #mine

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dougdigby-blog · 5 years

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When talking to Sarah about her love for Laura, it was obvious their story is one for the books. From both of them only dating men before each other, to their joint bachelorette party, to being the first same-sex female couple married in their part of the UK, and the fact that they had a ‘flower nan’, they are one interesting couple. It’s no wonder these two brides run their own blog!

Tell us about yourselves:

We are Sarah and Laura, two wives who blog at sarahpluslaura.blogspot.co.uk.

Laura is originally from Idaho in the USA and I, Sarah, am from Reading, UK. We met at work in London in 2009, moved to Australia together in 2010 where we travelled for a year before returning to London. We settled in Birmingham, UK in 2013. Our blog features travel, reviews for destinations in the UK and beyond, stories about us, our experiences, and things we love – from food, to our cockapoo Bisbee. We also dedicate a whole section in our blog to preparing for our wedding and then the day itself. Without a doubt, our wedding has been a highlight in our relationship to date.

Tell us about your love story:

In our case, love didn’t come easy. We started new jobs in the same company on the same day. Rather than bonding over the shared experience, our differences meant our first impressions of each other weren’t positive. I was seen as a ‘sour-faced, stuck up, reserved’ British sales person. Laura was an ‘obnoxious, loud, overly upbeat’ American customer services advisor.

We started to work closer together and our initial judgements subsided. After six months we went from hanging out in a group, to spending all our free time together. A few weeks later we admitted we were more than just friends and never looked back!

As we had both only dated men before, the relationship and how quickly our feelings progressed was a shock to both of us. We kept things mainly between us until we were confident that it could be something serious.

From the start, Laura’s parents were amazingly supportive and welcomed me into their home in the USA. Initially, my parents were adamantly against our relationship. It wasn’t until four years later that Laura eventually got an invite to the house. Our relationship with my family is definitely an ‘It gets better’ story.

Our wedding signalled a public stand and declaration of our love. We were the first all-female couple to get legally married in the borough of Westminster. The wedding ceremony was in Idaho. Unfortunately same sex marriage wasn’t legal in Idaho until four months later, but it was the wedding of our dreams anyway!

Both families attended our Idaho wedding and since then things for us have gone from strength to strength. We even moved in with my parents for over a year to save for our house before moving to Birmingham. Today, both families play a large part on our lives and we couldn’t be happier.

As two brides, how did you decide on your bridesmaids?

We had a joint bridal party instead of each picking our own bridesmaids. Most of the people we considered are friends to both of us. It would’ve been hard deciding whose side they would be on.

My sister Fiona was the first pick. As an early supporter of our relationship she was a natural choice and it was important to have her there beside us.

Kate, our head bridesmaid, has known Laura since she was born. Laura and Kate lived in London at the same time before she met me, and we all became close when living in Australia in 2010. She even threw us a surprise Australian wedding celebration when we visited earlier this year!

Julia is a close school friend that Laura has known for 15 years. I had met Julia on my first trip to Idaho in 2009 and we got on easily. Julia is an illustrator. She was our first pick to do our invitations and all the personal touches at our wedding.

Alison is another of Laura’s old school friends – they reconnected when Ali moved to London. As Ali lived with us when she initially moved to the UK, we all became close. I chose Ali to help me organise my proposal when we were all in Idaho for Christmas 2012. Ali, and her husband Dave, are our travel inspirations and some of our closest friends.

Did you ever consider having groomsmen?

We decided to have the special men in our lives be ushers rather than groomsmen. It wasn’t a massive discussion. The ladies in our lives were our greatest support, being there through difficult times. Having them at the front was symbolic of their role in our lives.

What tips do you have for brides who are struggling to put together their bridal party?

Start by making a list of all the people you feel you can’t get married without them by your side. If you’re having an intimate wedding, like ours, divide the list up into different roles. Besides your bridesmaids and groomsmen, you can have special people in your life be ushers or participate in readings at the ceremony. If you are still struggling with wanting to give unique roles to the special people in your life, Pinterest is a great source of inspiration.

Laura’s 90-year-old grandmother flew in from the UK to Idaho to be a ‘Flower Nan.’

One especially unique role at our wedding was instead of a ‘flower girl’, we had a ‘Flower Nan’. We really wanted Laura’s 90 year old Nan, who flew on her own from the UK to the USA for the wedding, to be part of our bridal party. (She stole the show, she was so wonderful!) Our Mums were walked down the aisle by our ushers, so they stood out.

How did you decide on your joint Bachelorette Party location and who to invite?

There was never any thought of having separate Bachelorette parties because we have so many joint friends. And at the end of the day, as well as being wives, we are best friends. So really as two brides, if we had been on separate nights out, we would have just been wondering where the other one was, and wishing she was there!

Heading to Idaho for the wedding, we knew we had to have a connecting flight somewhere. Most of the party flying out with us from England had never been to the USA. We thought about New York but after suggesting NY and Vegas to our guests, Vegas got the vote.

We had also been to Vegas before, so we had a rough idea of what we wanted to plan. As a party capital it was easy to book tables, a limo, group transport etc. In general, Vegas offers so many options that we could do things as a large group or break up into smaller groups.

The invite was open to all / any guests. As part of our save the dates we pointed people to our wedding website where we had put a rough itinerary of our Vegas plans. There was an option to select ‘join us’ at the bachelorette. We had a deadline date for confirmation so we could sort out rooms if people needed to share.

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Who planned the activities?

Mainly Laura, although we took suggestions and requests. When it came to seeing a show we put out options to the group via a private Facebook group. The one that ended up being the most popular – a drag show!

We had two evenings that we had requested everyone attend. The first was a dinner and limo ride to the Las Vegas sign (for group pictures!), The second was ‘Pink Night’ where everyone had to wear something pink. That night we hit the bars and a club to dance the night away.

Other plans were made by the pool where everyone seemed to meet in the mornings. We tried to leave things flexible as we knew it was an expensive trip for everyone. We didn’t want to completely take over their holiday.

What was your favorite part of your Bachelorete Party?

Well as two brides, can we pick two?

The first was a really simple moment in the Mirage pool. The weather was beautiful and we all had giant strawberry daiquiris by the pool. In a single moment Laura and I were able to watch all of our family and friends laughing, getting on, and having a great time so far from home. It was the best feeling.

The second was Pink Night. The whole night was hilarious! It was the night I had imagined a bachelorette would be. My Mum and Aunt wore massive pink capes. The boys all rocked pink outfits and we all wore personalised matching sunglasses. Laura and I rode a mechanical bull (though not for long!). We spent most of the night in a bar that played hit song after hit song, and I just remember not wanting it to end.

What are your tips for anyone planning a bachelorette in Vegas?

Stay calm and don’t plan too much for everyone. Vegas is synonymous with drinking and gambling for a reason. Set out your expectations of what you want everyone to attend early and explain why it is important. We told everyone that we wanted a group photo at the Vegas sign, so they had to be there.

Don’t leave it too late to book group things. While there is plenty of choice of limo companies and restaurants, you don’t want your decision to be made for you so book early. Also when booking get people’s payments upfront. There is nothing worse than trying to sort out money while trying to keep things fun.

On that note, ask someone else in the party to take the role of sorting out money. Even at dinner. As a bride you don’t want to be sorting out the bill at the end of the night. It’s stressful!

Bridal showers are standard in the US, but not at all common in the UK. How surprised were you to have a mini bridal shower?

It was such a lovely surprise to have a bridal shower shower thrown for us while we were in Vegas by our bridesmaids. We weren’t expecting it at all. It was especially amazing as we had planned most of the bachelorette party ourselves.

Our bridesmaid Kate organised the shower at a gorgeous poolside restaurant. She brought mini cupcakes that tasted like delicious cocktails! Fiona created a quiz about us which was touching and funny for everyone to take. She also put together a beautiful album of photos from our childhood, and then ones since Laura has been around. It had an inscription that read how she was so happy to be gaining another sister! Tears all round.

What was dress shopping like for both of you and your bridesmaids?

Dress shopping for us was surprisingly easy. After seeing plenty of same-sex weddings where the two brides looked like they were going to different weddings, we decided to go together. As we are each other’s best friends, we knew there’d be nobody else whose opinion we trusted more than each other. We are so glad we did it this way, as it was an amazing experience!

We booked in an appointment with David’s Bridal in Boise. After the assistant got over the surprise of having two brides marrying each other (not that common in conservative Idaho, where it wasn’t yet legal) she was lovely and incredibly helpful. We had Laura’s Mum with us for support, and luckily things worked out pretty effortlessly.

With arms full of dresses we headed to the changing rooms. It was quickly evident what styles we preferred, and within the hour we had narrowed down our top choices. Even though we picked similar strapless styles I think we complimented each other rather than looking the same. Laura had a birdcage veil, while mind was a mid-length veil worn down my back. On wedding day, Laura had her hair swept to one side, while mine covered both shoulders. We both felt beautiful and that is what was important.

The bridesmaid dresses were even simpler. We had wanted to buy the dresses for the girls, which is the custom in the UK. Plus, all our bridesmaids were travelling so an extra cost didn’t seem fair. We had picked our colour, a deep purple, and knew we wanted them to be knee length with pockets. With that description I did a Google search. We quickly found a dress at a reasonable price, that met the criteria exactly and so we bought them. Luckily they fit perfectly.

How were your bridesmaids throughout your planning process at the wedding?

As we only had one bridesmaid living near where we were getting married, we relied heavily on our wedding planner. That said, our bridesmaids were quick to offer help and advice. They were so excited and supportive the entire way.

Julia recommended our band, designed and printed our wedding invites, etc. Kate did our maid of honour speech, organised our bridal shower, and kept us going with countdowns. Alison took on the role of Pink Night organiser in Vegas, which was amazing. Fiona kept my family organised and calm, which was no small task, and allowed us to focus on everything else.

Once we were in Idaho, all the bridesmaids helped with the food shopping for our stay at our wedding location. Then at the venue, they helped organise room allocation and food preparation. Really they allowed us to be part of the experience, rather than having to worry about looking after everyone.

What are your favorite memories of your bridesmaids from your wedding day?

Our professional photo session. We had our pictures taken before the ceremony (after our first look!) so that everyone looked their best and could then relax and enjoy the day. That time together; laughing, joking, pulling poses, and just hanging out was perfect.

When getting ready, they did each other’s hair and make-up. There is one photo where they were all doing up the bow on each other’s dresses. It was posed, but it really captured the mood of the day.

The pictures we had with each of them individually were also sweet moments. We took a ‘pretty photo’ and a ‘pretty silly photo’ with each of them. We gave each bridesmaid a copy of their photo as a thank you.

Do you have any tips for how bridesmaids can be supportive to their bride(s)?

As every bride is different, I think the key is communication of expectations. I think if you know a bride well enough, you will know when things are getting stressful for them. Offering support early is key.

Laura and I are very different when it comes to planning. Laura will have to-do lists for everything. The bridesmaids knew that if they were being asked to do something for Laura it was because she really needed help. The best plan of action would be doing it quickly to make thing easier for her. and I will do things as I think of them or last minute. For me, they needed to sense check if I had thought of things. Although Laura had given me my own to-do list so I was covered. (ha!)

Also on wedding day things change. Often plans that have been in place for months need rearranging. For example, our florist didn’t have bouquets for the bridesmaids, which we were expecting. So be ready with solutions and suggestions. Always be calm. Always say that you’ll look into it even if you have no clue how you’ll make it happen. That taking on of responsibility means the world. No bride should be stressing on their big day.

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The post Think two brides are amazing? Wait until you see the flower nana! appeared first on Bridesmaids Confession.

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satorisa · 7 years

Text

Lift the Veil - Chapter 9

Lift the Veil - Chapter 9: Ghost

Rating: T

Summary: After living in Tokyo for the past six years, she decides to head back to Azumano to escape the big city. However, she now has to face everything that she tried to flee from all those years ago. How exactly will she fare when the pages of a long forgotten book start turning once more?

Read On: FanFiction.Net, Archive of Our Own

(I am a filthy liar.)

This chapter was brought to you LATE by this lovely song, headcanons that belong to @fugitivehugs and @keikotwins (the police force doting on Satoshi and Kei having a brother) [also if you are not them and reading this and so happen to love DNAngel, go ahead and hit up these wonderful people!!!], the former’s love for Kei Hiwatari, and the boy that influenced the dinner scene with Satoshi, making that one singular scene so difficult to deal with that it delayed my progress by several days.

Thank you.

Without further ado, here is the ~8000 word behemoth born from a terrible decision to merge two chapters together. Please enjoy for my sake.

Chapter 9 – Ghost

This time, I might just disappear.

“Someone’s late today,” Saehara smirked.

“Shut up,” I breathed, winded from having rushed over here. “What’d I miss?”

“This!” He gestured to the surprisingly busy police force. Most of them carried huge boxes of paperwork while they frantically ran around, but some of them had a gift of some sort in their hands. They briefly stepped into the Police Commissioner’s office only to come out moments later with their colorful presents replaced by paperwork as, they too, joined the horde and scurried to their destinations. “What do you think is going on?”

I shrugged before sitting down to work while Saehara shot up, steno pad in his hand, to satiate his curiosity. He returned much later than usual, plopping onto the sofa with uncharacteristic lethargy and a distant expression on his face. His clothes became more wrinkled during his absence and his hair, although already unruly, started reaching Einstein levels of messiness.

“Hey, Harada-imouto, I think you should go check up on Satoshi.”

“Why should I?”

“Please.”

Hearing the desperation in his voice, I headed towards Hiwatari’s office and knocked. No one answered, so I let myself in, softly opening and closing the door behind me. There Hiwatari laid on his sofa, staring up at the ceiling. He turned to face me, and I felt cornered from his stare.

“Are you…okay?” I croaked even though it was painfully obvious that he wasn’t.

He shook his head before sitting up, patting the seat next to him, but I sat on the other side of the sofa, ample space away from him. He looked lost, staring at his hands as if they weren’t his.

I didn’t want to pry, knowing that I would be overstepping a boundary if I asked. My presence during such a vulnerable time was already pushing it. And so we sat there in silence, intermittently disturbed by someone dropping a gift off with words of encouragement and consolation in exchange for some paperwork.

Hiwatari’s mood didn’t seem to improve, despite the gestures of his coworkers, so I pulled out my phone and messaged Daisuke. He arrived fairly quickly, and I left the room before one of them could stop me. When I returned to my workspace, Saehara wasn’t there, so I sat down and continued my work to get my mind off of Hiwatari.

Despite everything, Hiwatari always seemed to have his life under control. When college entrance exam time rolled around, Riku got so stressed out from the extensive cram school sessions she had. Even Daisuke, known for heading to bed at a reasonable time, stayed up late finishing up his portfolio for admissions. And I had quickly cracked under the sheer amount of studying I decided to undertake. But Hiwatari stayed collected despite his workload, somehow managing to free up his already packed schedule in case any one of us needed him.

Then again, I knew he was better at hiding it compared to most people. And before walking into that office, I had only seen him remotely shut down twice.

The first time was during the Kokuyoku fiasco. And the second was when…

…it was when he decided to completely share his story of Rio HIkari, of the burden he bared, of the relationship he shared with Kei. He managed to maintain his composure until he finished and saw me crying.

He pulled me into an embrace so tight that I couldn’t breathe before burying his face into the crook of my neck. Despite his unwavering voice, I felt his warm tears fall on my skin as he apologized for telling me his story over and over again. I returned his hug, hoping that it would at least give him some comfort, but he didn’t stop until he had fallen asleep, probably spent from all that crying. Just like a child, I tucked him in next to me, holding him close as I patted his head until, I too, drifted off.

Seeing him, looking like that on that sofa, almost spurred me to pull him into my arms and cry.

Almost.

Coming back home after work, I rested my feet on the sofa and turned on the TV. I decided to leave the Japanese drama rerun on, enjoying the end of another busy day when I heard the front door swing open then slam shut, revealing a frustrated Riku. She tossed her purse onto the countertop before removing her hair tie and marching upstairs. Minutes later, she came down, having changed from her work clothes into a t-shirt and jeans before shooting me a look of both anger and confusion.

“What are you still doing here?”

“Did…something happen?” I checked my phone in case I had missed a message, but there was nothing.

The emotions on her face subsided, replaced by realization. “So you actually didn’t know…”

“Didn’t know what?”

“That Kei Hiwatari died. We’re—”

I blocked out everything Riku said after those words, turning off the TV and stumbling towards her. I was already in my pajamas, but I didn’t care enough to change into something more presentable. My brain had shut down trying to fully process the news while Riku rambled on beside me as my legs went through the motions, carrying me to wherever the hell our destination was.

We eventually arrived at the Niwa household and walked in to see Hiwatari next to Daisuke on the floor at the low table with Saehara and Akane across from them. Mrs. Emiko, Mr. Kosuke, and Grandpa Daiki sat on the sofa, indifferent to the situation. Argentine and Towa weren’t present, probably because of extra people in the house, and Ritsuko leaned against a wall, busy with her phone. Riku, unaffected by the stifling silence, sat next to Daisuke, completely in control of the situation as she comforted Hiwatari while I took my place by Ritsuko on the outskirts of the group.

To think that Hiwatari would willingly have this many people around him during such a time without him having any qualms about their presence was not something I ever expected to witness.

“What happened?” Riku calmly asked, and her words sounded like glass shattering onto a cold, hard floor.

“Kei’s brother called him this morning saying that Kei had passed, and that he’s going to Vienna to help prepare the funeral,” Daisuke explained. “Satoshi, you don’t have to go if you—”

“I have to go,” Hiwatari adamantly said. “I just can’t go alone.”

“But your uncle will be there,” Saehara pointed out.

“I…I need one of you there with me.”

I watched the people at the table look at each other with regret. One by one, they started listing off legitimate reasons for why they couldn’t accompany Hiwatari. As much as his friends loved and cared for him, they couldn’t exactly put their lives on hold for a week. No one had the time, unfortunately. After he asked the younger adults in the room, he briefly caught my eye before shaking his head, sparing the two of us from having a contrived conversation. He turned around, about to ask the older Niwas when Riku decided to open that big, fat mouth of hers.

“What about Risa?” she asked. I bit my lip and felt Ritsuko lightly placed her hand on my arm. This wasn’t going to be pretty. “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have anything planned for next week.”

“Riku, I really don’t think I’m in any position to accompany him,” I told her. “My supervisor probably won’t let me have such a long break since I was recently hired. And I’m sure Daisuke’s relatives wouldn’t mind going with him.”

“But if you can go, why do you have to bother them? After all, you’re—”

“Riku.” Hiwatari’s stern voice cut through her words. I winced. “I appreciate your sentiments, but you shouldn’t push Harada-san to come with me if she doesn’t want to. You may be her sister but that doesn’t mean that you can speak for her on her behalf.” He looked like he wanted to say more but he pursed his lips instead, as if he had to physically stop himself from whatever else might’ve poured out.

She quieted down, shocked from Hiwatari’s scolding, and the evening continued, heavy with tension despite Saehara’s best attempts at lightening the mood, until everyone started leaving. Riku wanted to head home too but, after what happened earlier, I didn’t want to be alone with her, so Daisuke accompanied her home, leaving only me and Hiwatari left. The older Niwas had retired upstairs after everyone unanimously decided that Kosuke would go with Hiwatari, and the artworks were about, cleaning up after the company.

“You…really didn’t have to do that,” I told him from my new spot across from him at the low table. “I would’ve eventually butt in once I couldn’t stand it anymore. And Riku is right in a way, you know.”

“I know, but the way she was acting pissed me off.”

“She meant well. She’s just looking out for you, that’s all.”

“It’s annoying.”

I smiled, seeing myself from several days ago. “That just means she cares.”

The ticking of the clock and the whir of the air conditioner filled the space between us. Argentine and Towa left the kitchen around then, and I shot them an apology for my last visit as they passed by to go upstairs. They replied saying that it was their mistake for not being aware of the situation, eying both Hiwatari and I as they slowly made their way up, probably wary to leave us alone. But they too eventually left, and the miscellaneous noises of the house rushed back in.

“Hey,” I carefully started, picking at my chipped nail polish. Anything to make the delivery easier and keep my attention from Hiwatari’s face. And also to get my mind off the words about to leave my mouth. “Do you want me to go with you?”

Silence, probably from processing and contemplation. “I don’t want to impose. And Kosuke is more than capable. Really.”

If anyone was imposing, it was me. “You’re not.” Now, I had to make a joke to lighten the situation. Force a smile… “Besides, Vienna sounds like a fun vacation.”

“You’re supposed to support me, not gallivant through a foreign city by your lonesome.” Failure. I could hear the disbelief in his voice.

Alright. I could still salvage this. “I’m joking.” But I kind of wasn’t. “Half joking. I’ll pay for myself. And Vienna really does sound fun to explore during our down time. Kosuke still has to come as some type of buffer and dependable support, but I’ll be there for comfort or whatever else you need. Plus, the more the merrier, right?” Damn, nervous rambling was not a part of my plan.

“…why?”

“I…don’t know. I know that I really shouldn’t be going on this trip with you but, at the same time, I can’t exactly bring myself to leave you be in that situation, especially when I know that, to some degree, I’m able to handle it. And no, it’s not because of what Riku said. It’s of my own volition.”

I couldn’t not stare at Hiwatari anymore, so I cautiously looked up from my nails. He had a gentle smile on his face. I hadn’t seen that expression in such a long time. If the table hadn’t been between us, as well as everything else in the past, he probably would’ve hugged me. Or I would’ve hugged him. Well, some sort of physical sign of gratitude would’ve occurred for sure even if it wasn’t an embrace.

“Thank you.” Those words came across as a whisper. “Let me walk you home.”

I shook my head as we both got up. “Walk me to your place.” He shot me a concerned look. “It’s already late, so I don’t want to bother anyone. You’re sleeping here tonight, too. And after your stunt earlier, I don’t think me heading back home is a good idea.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll be unconscious for most of my time there, so it’s fine. And I’ll head back home tomorrow morning after I wake up. Right now, Riku needs some sleep and time by herself.”

I sent her a message telling her not to wait up for me before following Hiwatari back to his apartment. He opened his front door while I settled down on the sofa.

“You can take my bed,” he offered. I looked at him like he was insane, and he retreated into his room, coming back out with two pillows and a blanket. “Hopefully, these don’t stink.” He then left his keys on the table in front of me. “Just hand them over tomorrow. Good night, Harada-san.”

“Good night, Hiwatari-san. And thank you.”

I locked the door behind him before fixing the pillows and blanket. Surprisingly, the sofa was quite soft, his pillows were fluffy yet supportive, and his blanket was wonderfully plush but…

Well, they didn’t stink per say, but they stunk of him.

Turning on some music, I fell asleep listening to a piano, floating away from my odd present.

We had made the mutual decision not to tell anyone of the new nature of our relationship. We weren’t dating or formally boyfriend and girlfriend; rather, we danced past being just friends into a realm of confusing boundaries filled with almosts and not-quite-rights.

He came over often, about every other day or so, and we’d keep each other company until we were too spent to do anything else. Still running on an oxytocin high, we’d lay there in the dark, me usually encased in his arms, as we talked about anything and everything. He’d share little tidbits about himself, like why he liked kit-kats so much (his host parents always had some lying around, so he’d sometimes snack on a few while studying) or why he preferred sunrises to sunsets (something about how the night would give way to the day and that, during those brief moments, the world would pause just to admire the horizon’s beauty.) And, other times, he would talk about Krad or his father.

Whenever he spoke of Kei, he sounded like he was talking about a boss or a colleague: his voice was laced with respect and slight discomfort, lacking any sort of familiarity in his tone. However, as we spent more time together, that façade crumbled away as Hiwatari began to tell me stories of the Kei he knew growing up. He shared memories of playing together with him, of looking up to him, of moments filled with unimaginable joy. The picture he painted drastically contrasted that of the Kei I knew. But something happened, and the kindness that Kei once genuinely possessed became a charade he hid behind, obscuring his manipulative and selfish soul underneath.

Whatever ounce of love that was there was gone, and Hiwatari became a tool for Kei to have some control over the Hikari artworks. With a smile, he’d use cleverly veiled threats or even offer some insincere familial love to coerce Hiwatari to follow his plans. All the unspeakable events that happened were, in some way, shape, or form, the results of Kei’s orders.

Hiwatari hated Krad, but he hated Kei even more because, deep inside, he wanted to believe in those words of affirmation and love. He wanted to, and fooled himself into trusting them, until Kei had rudely reminded him of the harsh truth of his reality. He could deal with Krad’s toxicity; he was predictable, and Hiwatari eventually became numb to that parasite residing in his body. But he couldn’t deal with Kei, with the man he could no longer read. Krad could literally turn his body into a bloody mess and Hiwatari would mindlessly deal with it, but a single word from Kei sent his brain into overdrive as he fought against his logos and pathos.

And when Krad was finally sealed away for good and Kei had disappeared, Hiwatari didn’t know how to deal with this sudden freedom. Instead of properly dealing with the dependency issues thrust upon him, he flung himself towards friends and work. While Kei still had a strong hold on the poor boy, it eventually waned with time.

Alas, with the death of someone you equal parts loved and hated, anyone would find themselves struggling with their phantom once more.

After a less than restful sleep, I headed back home to freshen up for another day at work. I headed to the news station first, asking if I could take a week’s leave because of a family emergency. And when I miraculously got that, I headed straight for the police station, dropping off Hiwatari’s keys and admiring the care baskets and flowers that decorated his office before heading out to my usual spot, greeting Takeshi with a smile.

He smiled before hugging me, almost in tears at the fact that I finally used his first name. That alone just made my day.

And after I headed home, I sat in the dining room with my music deafeningly loud while I browsed apartment listings. I stumbled upon a one bed, one bath close to the cliffs with a beautiful view of the ocean. Mizuame de Noisette was close by too, so I could always drop by if I wanted to treat myself without worrying anyone. I bookmarked it, but I still went through the list to see if anything could top it.

“Boo!”

I screamed before turning around to see Riku straight from work. She had her hair up in a little stub of a ponytail, and her bangs were clipped to the side. She wore all black, reminding me of a ninja whose sole purpose was to terrify her sister.

“You’re going to blow out your eardrums if you listen to music that loudly,” she chirped, lowering its volume before taking the seat next to me. “So, what’re you doing?”

“Looking for apartments.”

“Risa, do you hate me that much that you need to leave me?” I shot her a dirty look, and she just cackled. “I kid. Has anything caught your eye?”

“Yup. If I sign the lease, move-in’s only a month away.”

“A month? But that’s when Daisuke and I are going to Zurich!” she exclaimed.

“Well, you can always visit after your trip.” And she would, inevitably, drop by after Daisuke pops the question. I bit my lip to keep myself from accidentally spilling.

“But it’s not going to be the same! Moving in is the fun part!”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun as long as you’re not around.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

We both laughed. Luckily, she hadn’t said anything about last night, so I assumed that she had gotten over it. That or the fact that she conveniently forgot about it. But, knowing her, she was waiting to bring it up, and the brief lull we found ourselves in was the perfect time to change the conversation.

“So, about last night…” she started, as if on cue. “I’m sorry. It seemed like you guys were getting along, so I thought it’d be okay.”

“Don’t worry about it. You meant well.”

“It’s hard seeing you two act like that, especially since you two got along so well in high school. I’d never seen the two of you happier, which is saying something considering that Satoshi’s pretty content these days.”

I took in a deep breath before letting it out in a long and prominent exhale. Riku really did have a way with words. And by that, I meant that she knew exactly what to say to worsen an already sensitive situation.

“Sorry,” she quickly apologized after noticing my obvious discomfort.

“It’s fine.” We found ourselves at yet another stalemate, and the light notes of my music floated through the air. “Well, to change the subject, I’m going with Hiwatari-san and Mr. Kosuke to Vienna.”

“Are you sure? You’re not pushing yourself to go or anything?”

“Nah. It sounds like a great vacation.” Riku rolled her eyes at that. “Honestly though? I felt like I had to go. Not just to support him, because I know I can’t fully do that by myself which is why Mr. Kosuke is still going, but also for myself. For closure, you know? Maybe if I saw Hiwatari do it, I might be able to do it, too.”

“For Dark? Or for Satoshi?”

“Why mention Hiwatari-san?”

“Risa, we’re not that dumb. Everyone knows that what happened in high school was because of Satoshi. It’s just no one knows why. You two are awfully good at staying mum about it.”

“For both, I suppose.”

She nodded before getting up. “Well, I feel like I’ve overstayed my welcome by meeting the ‘dark side’ of Risa, so I’ll leave you be. Just knock on my door if you need me, good luck with searching, and you better bring me along to see the place when you tour it!”

Meekly waving her goodbye, I returned to my screen, turning the volume up so loudly that I started thinking to its beat, drowning the silence of the night with the waves of piano runs.

“Why is he here?” Risuko asked, frowning when she noticed Takeshi trailing behind me. She messaged me in the morning, asking to meet up for lunch as a check-up of sorts and, well, I was in the mood to eat out despite it being my turn to bring lunch for me and Takeshi so he, unfortunately, decided to tag along.

“For food. Don’t mind him.” Yet she very much so did, shooting him a nasty look that I could feel him returning. I headed over to the hostess, asking to be seated to avoid their petty fight that they continued when it came to deciding who would sit next to me once we arrived at our table and I, fed up with them, shot them a glare as they slunk into the seats across from me. If they couldn’t get along, the proper thing to do was have them sit together and stare at the empty spot they couldn’t have.

After the waiter took our orders and menus, Ritsuko decided to break the silence.

“How’re you feeling?” she cautiously asked.

I shrugged. “Alright? I do know that I’m excited to go to Vienna.”

“Wait, you’re going with him?” they simultaneously asked, shooting each other a disgusted look before returning to me.

“Are you sure you’re not pushing yourself?” Ristuko’s voice was laced with concern.

“You shouldn’t have to feel obligated to go because no one else can,” Takeshi added.

Even though this was starting like my conversation with Riku last night, I didn’t want it to follow the same direction it did, so I had to come up with an excuse.

“Well, Mr. Kosuke is dependable, but he’s more of a family member and mentor than a friend. And sometimes you just need a friend.”

“You two aren’t exactly friends,” Ritsuko pointed out. Crap. Bad call. “Out of all of us, you’re the least qualified to go with him.”

“We’re just worried about you two, yanno? Dealing with the death of that jackass of a father isn’t something you can just casually deal with.” I expected him to make some type of gesture, like one of those detectives when they’re explaining something in the movies, but he sat there with his arms resting on the table like any other person. “You probably know a helluva lot more about that douchebag than me for sure, but that’s a heavy burden you’re going to help him carry. You’re gonna have to be strong if you want to support Satoshi because you’re getting yourself into a situation where the past and present are gonna intertwine into a terrifying beast, and it might be too much for you to handle.”

“I know.” The waiter came by, dropping off our waters. I laughed when he left, and both Ritsuko and Takeshi watched me in confusion. “Sorry, I just never thought I’d have a serious conversation with you, Takeshi.”

He shot me a toothy grin. “Chief said the same thing a while back.”

And with that, the conversation returned to casual ground. Ritsuko and Takeshi argued, somehow still unable to get along with each other for some reason. At some point, I was worried that they’d start flinging their food at each other, but they still had some shred of decorum. (This is considering the fact that they started to kick each other under the table, however that works whenever you’re kicking someone sitting next to you.)

When we left the restaurant, Ritsuko pulled me into a hug, wishing me well. Her hands lingered on my shoulder much longer than necessary. She probably meant it as encouragement, as well as a silent message to rethink my decision, before elegantly walking away in her heels.

Work went along just like any other day until it was time for Takeshi to leave. Instead of flying out those doors as soon as he was off the clock, he sat next to me with his attention on his phone. He left when Hiwatari walked out, but the two of them stood outside the station and talked as if they were waiting for someone.

After I edited the last story, I packed up and walked outside, about ready to just pass the men by until Takeshi stopped me.

“Um…see ya tomorrow, Risa.” Takeshi never seemed at a loss for words; in fact, he just couldn’t contain what he wanted to share with the world. But, at that moment, he sounded like he was struggling to even string a sentence together, as if, for once, he had no idea what to say. Takeshi hesitated, and I realized that his prolonged presence was along the same lines as Ritsuko’s earlier gesture before he finally walked off at a normal pace with his hands in his pockets.

He probably wanted to walk me home, but Hiwatari said something. Hiwatari always did something, if I had to be honest.

“You scared him off,” I teased even though I wished that Takeshi didn’t leave.

“He had somewhere to be is all,” he smoothly replied, but we both knew that that was a lie. “Is it alright if I accompany you home for the day?”

“Why the sudden urge for chivalry?”

“I just…I wanted to talk to you. Lighten the load before we head off to Vienna?”

“Why not dissuade me like the level-headed person you are?”

“Well, I would, but you’re awfully stubborn when you’ve already set your mind on something. And, despite our circumstances, knowing that you’re there gives me a sense of comfort that even Kosuke couldn’t grant me.”

Somewhere inside, his words made me wince. And so, we headed back home in the twilight as we chatted. I learned about why Ritsuko and Takeshi still couldn’t get along. (He had somehow accidentally sabotaged a good date and potential relationship, and there was no way in hell that she was going to let it go anytime soon.) Hiwatari also talked about Daisuke’s potential proposal plan which resulted in us having second-hand embarrassment from the likely case that something goes completely wrong.

“That was nice,” I told Hiwatari at the gate, reluctantly admitting to myself that I was enjoying his casual presence. “Thank you for walking me.”

He shook his head. “No, thank you for letting me walk with you.”

I had half a mind to say farewell so I could spent the evening berating myself at my sudden change in heart, but I paused halfway through the gate and turned around. “Would you—um—like to stay for dinner?”

Hiwatari blinked, caught off-guard by my offer, before giving me a small smile to offset his initial shock. “Sure. Thank you.”

He pushed the already open gate wider, waiting for me to fully walk in before letting it shut behind us. I awkwardly fumbled with my keys, trying not to crack under Hiwatari’s scrutinizing gaze before I finally opened the door to see Riku, dressed up for work, at the countertop.

She turned around to see us. “Hey, Risa! And what’s up, Satoshi?”

“Hopefully not Kei,” he responded, and my sister laughed. “Are you headed for work?”

“Yup. In a bit. I’ve been trying to plan our trip to Zurich, but I don’t know what I really want to do.”

“I can send you suggestions later if you’d like.”

“That’d be great. Thanks, Satoshi!” She closed her laptop before hopping off the highchair. “I’ll be off then! You two better behave while I’m gone!” Her cackling lingered in the air long after she closed the door behind her.

“Well, make yourself comfortable,” I told him. “I’m going to ask my parents what they want for dinner.”

“Are you…cooking?” he cautiously asked.

“Yes.” His face blanched. “I’m not that bad, okay? I’ve learned my way around the kitchen after living alone for the past six years.”

He still looked unconvinced, so I left him and headed off to my parents’ room. I knocked on their door and, getting permission to come in, I saw them sitting on the bed next to each other as they watched a movie. My mom leaned on my dad’s shoulder, about ready to fall asleep when she noticed me at the door. She turned to me with a polite smile while my dad turned the volume down.

Usually, I would linger to chat about their day before leaving, but I had quickly asked them what they wanted for dinner (mapo tofu) before leaving the room. They weren’t doing anything remotely disturbing, but I felt awkward, as if stumbled upon something intimate.

Retreating into the kitchen, I grabbed a beer and packaged baumkuchen before joining Hiwatari, who was watching The Phantom of the Opera. I took the seat next to him, trying to disregard the disapproving look on his face.

“You’re going to ruin your dinner.”

“Leave me be,” I grumbled, hearing the click of the can opening and tearing the plastic keeping me away from my cake. “And I didn’t pin you as a musical kind of guy.”

“I watched an official showing during a trip in Prague, and I’ve liked musicals ever since.” He paused. “Miss Saigon’s my favorite.”

I had a stifle a laugh since Christine and Raoul were on the screen, singing their love from the rooftop. Imagine this: Hiwatari sitting in the audience, completely enchanted with the love story unfolding before him. When the scene changed, I excused myself into the kitchen to start cooking and laugh at that mental image. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize that Hiwatari had followed me into the kitchen, so I turned around to see him slightly pouting.

“It was touching,” he explained, as if that would help him save face. It only made me laugh harder.

“Touching?” I managed to breathe. “When did you become a sap?”

“When I spent too much time watching dramas with Emiko, Towa, and Argentine, but it might’ve been your grand delusions of romance that started it all.”

I stopped laughing. “Excuse me? My grand delusions of romance? How dare you—”

“Harada-san, at the rate that we’re going, we’re not going to finish cooking dinner tonight.”

“We?”

“As your guest, I insist on helping you. I trust myself to some degree in the kitchen. More so than you, at least.”

Letting his well-meant yet somewhat brutal concern roll off of me, I asked him to wash and cut the vegetables while I cubed the tofu. I finished fairly quickly, putting the tofu aside in a bowl before turning to watch Hiwatari, ever so serious with the mushrooms.

Both of us were helpless cooks in high school. After I moved to Tokyo though, I lived on convenience store food and school food until my friends held an intervention and helped me learn how to cook. Watching Hiwatari carefully cut up those vegetables, awkwardly holding them with his left hand, made me laugh. He looked like he was performing a surgery and not something as menial as cooking.

When he finished them, I tossed them into the pan where the ground beef was already cooking before adding the seasonings. And when all that was left was to leave the food on the stove for a bit, I opened up another can of beer.

K-chk.

“Should you be having another one?” Hiwatari asked wearily.

“It’s the end of the week, and I’m home.”

He nodded, either accepting that answer or deciding not to bother dissuading me. “Hand me one.”

I handed him a can with a smirk. “Are you sure this is enough for you?” I asked, vaguely referencing the huge stash I stumbled upon at his apartment.

“More than enough,” he answered taking a sip, completely unaware of what I was insinuating. “Any more than this, and both Daisuke and Takeshi would have my ass.”

I raised my eyebrows, unsure of how to respond. Sure, that sounded hilarious but—wait, could it be possible that Hiwatari’s worse than me when drunk?

“There’ve been too many instances in which things have happened, so I drink sparingly in public. My apartment, however, is fair game.” He shot me a smirk, and I returned an awkward smile. I didn’t really need the mental image of Hiwatari bumbling around his apartment completely wasted.

We returned to the movie, waiting until the food finished cooking. I called my parents when it was done, and the three of us returned to the table to see Hiwatari setting down the bowls. (He knew where they were?) They greeted each other, quite familiarly, before we dug into the food that everyone complimented me on. I spent most of dinner silent, watching my parents animatedly speak with Hiwatari who was equally engaged. And when we finished, my parents and Hiwatari tided up the table and shooed me upstairs. I changed out of my work clothes into something more comfortable, wiping the makeup off my face before heading downstairs to see that they had finished and moved onto the couch, watching TV while casually chatting.

I paused at the bottom of the stairs, taking in the scene as an observer. My parents knew Hiwatari since middle school, and they treated him as one of my friends from school whenever he was over back then. But this wasn’t polite small talk. This was friends who often spent time together, just like a makeshift family.

Family? How did this happen? Was it because I was gone? Did Hiwatari conveniently fill the hole that my absence had opened? I just knew, from looking at them, that I had no place in this living room scene, and I quietly headed back up to prepare for seeing the apartment tomorrow and, possibly, signing the lease.

In the middle of a Tsum Tsum game, I heard a knock on my door. After telling whoever it was to come in, the door swung open. Hiwatari stood at the threshold, unmoving, as if there was an invisible barrier keeping him from stepping inside.

“Riku’s here, so I’ll be heading back now.” He slightly bowed. “Thank you for dinner.”

“Thank you for helping me make it. And for keeping my parents company.”

Those last words hurt to utter, but I just forced a small smile to hide the tension building inside me. He didn’t notice, instead nodding before turning around. “Be safe,” I called after him as he walked down the hallway before disappearing from my line of sight. I returned to my phone, trying to tune out the sound of laughter coming from downstairs.

I stood there, face to face with an unconscious Hiwatari in a sterile hospital room. Daisuke and Riku were elsewhere in their own beds, fully conscious and harboring injuries that would only keep them here for a couple more days. I, miraculously, only came out of that ordeal with small bruises and scratches but…

I sat in one of the chairs, taking in the emptiness of his room. My parents were dutifully by Riku’s side, and her room was stuffed with beautiful bouquets, balloons, fruit baskets and gifts galore. She was also healing well. Daisuke’s room was filled with his rambunctious family and food, and his vitality was slowly trickling back after Dark’s final farewell.

But Hiwatari? All he had was this bare room and the possibility that he might not make it. At the time, I only pitied the state that he was in, unaware that this was yet another entry on his ever-growing list of unfortunate events that’ve plagued his life since birth. And that these burdens had estranged him from the human basics of family, friends, and any other forms of love.

He honestly deserved everything he had now. He deserved that job, his unofficial family, and the friends he could finally hold close to him. Perhaps it was my stubbornness that kept me away from that, from finally stepping into my own shoes and living my life. Because Hiwatari moved past everything, but I had decided to wallow in the past and turn the other direction.

And that same stubbornness that kept me away from everyone here who had, some way or another, learned how to live without me.

Riku walked into the kitchen while I had a croissant hanging from my mouth. “Good morning, floating croissant! Here’s to another butter-ful day!” She laughed, tearing off a piece of the pastry before plopping it into her mouth.

I took the croissant out of my mouth. “That was awful.”

“Aw. I thought you liked puns.”

“I think it’s just too early for me to appreciate them right now,” I grumbled, quickly finishing my breakfast.

Riku decided to have some eggs with toast, so I put some bread in the toaster while she labored over the stove. My parents couldn’t accompany me today for reasons I couldn’t recall (or maybe never received), so it was just me and Riku checking out the apartment.

“I can’t wait to see the place,” she said when we finally left the house, basking in the morning sun.

“You’ll love it. The realtor said that I found a steal.”

“Of course you would.”

Groaning at her remark, I ignored her chuckling as we made our way to the apartment. Despite Riku’s pleasant conversation, I couldn’t help but think about how weird it was that my parents weren’t with me. If they’re able to, parents would want to see their child’s new home, right?

Maybe I only had them on my mind because of last night. Growing up, Riku and I weren’t particularly close to them because they were busy with work some way or another. Riku told me they cut down on their hours shortly after I left because their age was catching up to them, and they’ve apparently gotten really close since then. They’d also gotten really close to Hiwatari, too.

I wished I could chalk up their absence to denial at their daughter growing up, but seeing how much they talked to Hiwatari last night, I really didn’t know. Was it unfamiliarity? Was it those six years that I’ve been gone? Or was it a lack of an extremely meaningful relationship during the eighteen years prior to my leave?

Honestly, I thought Hiwatari would be my only problem moving here. Yet there I was, sitting in the trolley and facing the existential crisis hidden by Hiwatari’s initially problematic presence.

Luckily, this trip wasn’t long enough for me to continue down that devastating train of thought, as we arrived at the apartment where the realtor greeted us with a smile. She led us up to the room, allowing us to revel at the wonderful furnishings, big windows, and spacious floorplan.

“If you don’t get this, I’m going to hold it against you for the rest of your life,” she whispered as we headed downstairs to see if I wanted to finalize this decision.

“Well, I’m getting it, so you have one less thing to hang over my head.”

Minutes later, I became the new tenant of apartment 314, at least comforted in the fact that I finally had my own place.

“You really like this café, don’t you?”

We headed towards the cash register, looking at the menu scrawled out above it. “Yeah, you could say that.”

When we finally ordered, the cashier asked if that was all, shooting me a knowing look. I nodded, focused on that ever-present, cordial smile on her face as she greeted the next customer.

Riku chose to sit at the table where I usually spent my drunken evenings, and I couldn’t help but crack a smile at that. We casually talked until a waiter dropped our orders off.

“Is that all you’re going to eat?” she asked, suspiciously eying the house salad in front of me.

“Yeah. Why?” Her pasta covered in a cream-based sauce and bowl of hearty soup looked wonderful, but I knew eating that now would be too much. My body could only handle light meals during stressful times, and I was flying out to Vienna in less that twelve hours.

“It’s just odd seeing you eat such healthy food.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She laughed as I crunched on my salad, feigning frustration. I really did miss hanging out with Riku like this.

“You know, it’s weird,” she said, somewhat wistful. “At this age, I thought you’d have a steady boyfriend or even be married while I’d be forever single, wholly uninterested in dating.”

“And yet you’re the one with a boyfriend you’ve been in a relationship with for more than ten years, and I’m the one ‘woefully’ single.”

“Was it Dark?” she calmly asked, channeling that uncanny ability of hers to escalate an innocent conversation.

“What do you mean?” I asked, hoping that she would stop herself if I acted dense.

“That kept you single.”

Apparently, she was dead set on digging. “I don’t think so. I loved him. He loved me. And we were star-crossed lovers that were never meant to be. If anything, it probably was the huge emotional dependency that came with that relationship that’s kept me single.”

“And Hiwatari only made it worse.”

“…yeah. Even though we were friends, I carried a lot from that relationship. More so than Ritsuko and Mari combined.”

Riku raised her eyebrows, as if my claim that Hiwatari and I were friends wasn’t true. “We were friends! F-R-I-E-N-D-S! Why is that not registering in your brain?!”

She laughed. “Sorry. It’s too awkward for me to see you mope like that. And, well, any relationship comes with emotional dependency. You just have to find one that doesn’t have one as high as those.”

“I know.”

“So was it just the emotional dependency issues keeping you from dating?”

It wasn’t. I never even gave any of those guys I went on dates with a chance. Just the idea of letting them in and getting attached to them romantically scared me. If I couldn’t trust myself in a state of infatuation, how could I trust anyone else while I was in said state? To give them a part of me only to have them drop it on the floor in an instant? Who wouldn’t find that absolutely terrifying?

Sure, most of the breakups I’ve heard never reached such dramatic extremes, but I still—

“The fact that you’re not answering me means that there’re more reasons, but you don’t want to tell me about them.” She shook her head. “If this happened because of life in general, I’m sorry and slightly worried about you. But I swear, if it’s someone else’s fault that turned you into someone unwilling to pursue romance, they’re going to have to pay for what they’ve done!” She waved her fork around, almost as if she was practicing for their meeting.

I laughed, appreciating her humorous take on supporting me. But if she ever did find out, I wasn’t sure what she’d do. There were too many possibilities, but I knew they would all be awful.

Once we finished our meal, after transitioning into some talk about skincare, I ordered a drink. Two drinks. Okay, more than two drinks. Riku just watched me with amusement and enlightenment.

“So this is where you go to lose yourself!”

“I can’t help it! These drinks are good!”

“Yeah, good for worrying other people!”

“Come on! Just try a sip! Please!”

She took one. “Okay. I admit it. They’re pretty good, but I’m leaving you here if you have one more.

I whimpered, but she just laughed before looking out the window. I followed her gaze to the sun setting, casting its warm hues on the ocean and filling me with a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in far too long.

“You’re gifted with such a lovely view every day.” She sighed. “One day, there’s going to be someone who’s going to find you to be just as beautiful as this. You’re going to find them equally, if not more, beautiful in return, and that feeling you have right now? That’s how it’s going to feel. None of this despair and anxiety: just peace.”

I blinked, shifting my attention towards Riku, who had a comforting smile on her face. She extended her hand, patting me on the shoulder before grabbing my drink and quickly chugging it down.

“Enough of this mushy stuff; I’m starting to creep myself out.”

Silence.

I focused on my breathing, trying to block out my heartbeats booming in my ears. No matter how hard I tried to run away from my truth, it always came back loud and clear: a deafening reminder of what I gave and couldn’t receive in return.

“Risa?” he asked, nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck. “Are you still awake?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I…never thought I’d get this close to anyone.”

“What about Daisuke?”

“Am I currently cradling him in my arms?”

“Well, no. And you shouldn’t because he’s taken.”

His chest rumbled as he laughed, but the atmosphere that briefly lightened turned heavy again. The intimacy returned once more, and something inside of me was slowly dying.

“After everything, I never thought that I would ever let anyone else into my life. But then Daisuke came along, bringing you, Riku, and that family of his into this once very small world of mine. The days I’ve spent with you all, especially considering how much time I thought I had left, are precious to me. But the moments with you are the ones I cherish the most.”

“Because you love me?” I asked, mouth dry from those empty words.

“Yes, because I love you very, very much…”

I rolled over, nuzzling my pillow to drone out the crescendo and fluctuating rhythm inside me. Hiwatari copied my motions, spooning me from behind. His fingers grazed my heck as he brushed my hair aside, leaving butterfly kisses that trailed from my hairline to the nape of my neck. One of his hands found itself under my shirt, slightly caressing my sides.

I closed my eyes, trying to focus on anything but his searing touch.

Perhaps he found peace in these moments with me because he finally had a home for his heart that the Niwas, that Daisuke even, couldn’t offer him. And I wanted to find that peace too, to feel safe in his arms, but I couldn’t just contently wear the blindfold I had forced upon myself. It hurt too much.

The happiness I initially found myself embroiled with quickly waned as my feelings grew, having come to terms with the fact that I had found myself in a fruitless relationship that I had no intention or energy to pull myself out of. All I could do was foolishly trust my heart to someone who could offer no concrete promises, subjecting myself to a flow I never had any control over. I would “enjoy” the moment before mentally berating myself for it, rinsing and repeating until…

Well, either way, unless a miracle occurred, I’d find myself broken anyway.

After that ridiculously long flight, I stumbled into the baggage claim, more than ready to collect my luggage and get some fresh Viennese air. Kosuke, despite Hiwatari and I being adults perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves, fussed over us as he fixed our hair and straightened as much as he could of our wrinkled clothing.

I hobbled over to Hiwatari, struggling to keep myself upright after being immobile for far too long. “Aren’t we meeting your uncle at the airport?”

“Yes, he should be here soon.”

I yawned. “Well, he better, because I don’t know how much longer I can—”

“Satoshi! It’s been so long!”

My blood went cold.

#dnangel #satoshi hiwatari #risa harada #my writing #fanfiction #i can't believe this is 8000 words #originally it was under 8000 #but i had rewritten the Riku scene while typing it up and i just so happened to write it in such a way that the flashback worked #like honestly you'd think that this was a hard chapter to write just because of how heavy all this content is #but nooooo it's the dinner scene where satoshi is talking about his love for musicals #like i don't even #anyways onto more spoiler-y stuff #originally kei actually died from suicide #but considering that keiko loves kei i kept him alive #and it also adds more development for satoshi #and i just couldn't pass up the opportunity of writing some kosuke and kei interaction #and risa and kei interaction? expect that too #i also wasn't meaning to add that scene at the end but like...i felt guilty letting you guys think that kei was actually dead for two weeks #the vienna chapters are going to be crazy fun to write though i'm so excited #like i'm so excited for parallels and uncommon interactions and THEY'VE COME FULL CIRCLE GUYS

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