#and ive tried wrapping and literally everything else so its time to suck it up

[squidgirlautism]

do you all think i should get pink black or brown leather gloves

#bc like i have compression gloves and they dont do enough for me #and regular summer gloves arent meant to keep my hands warm theyre a nice barrier from dirt but my hands get Colder in them you feel #and ive tried wrapping and literally everything else so its time to suck it up #i have a red pair somewhere from my babcia except i only know where the left one is and red doesn’t match a lot of my wardrobe idk #staring mournfully at the skirt i want to buy #🦕

[danny-chase]

Big Brother instinct, Dick and either Cass, Gar, Danny Chase, Steph, Kara, Rose, or anyone else u want

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Batgirl (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dick Grayson & Cassandra Cain, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne Characters: Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Dick grayson centric, Fire, Burns, hair styling, Ice Cream, Hurt/Comfort, Late Nights, Fluff and Angst, Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Batfamily Dynamics (DCU), Missions Gone Wrong, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain is bad at feelings, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings Series: Part 11 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

Dick talks with Cass after a mission doesn't go as planned.

Fic under cut

“Argh!” Dick snaps back to attention as Bruce’s angry grunt rattles through the cave. The few bats still in for the night stir, their wings rustling in the distance. An avalanche of papers fly off of Bruce’s desk, and his grizzled form slumps forward, hands firmly planted on the table. His shoulders sag under some unknown strain; as if he’s carrying the weight of the sky.

“Hmm.” Dick blinks back another wave of exhaustion, he’s not working on a case – but Bruce is – and company always makes working more fun. Besides, Bruce is on a time limit and Alfred can’t stop him from escaping his room. So. Here he is. He took an oath - it’s his job to help.

Dick’s eleven and Bruce’s a pillar of reassurance – a precariously stacked pile of rocks constantly on the verge of crumbling. He has no idea how to pick up the pieces. No idea how to seal the cracks. “Bruce?” He mumbles, swinging his legs off his spinny chair. Bruce doesn’t look up, his mouth drawn in a tight line. The ghost of tears well in his eyes. Not good.

Dick scoots off the chair, lightheaded for a moment. He shakes the stars out of his eyes, nodding back and forth, up and down, like Bruce does when he’s sleepy. It’s late. He has school tomorrow. Not that it matters. Bruce will let him skip if he asks the right way. He jogs in place for a few seconds, readying himself, warming up his muscles.

There’s not much he can do to help, but he can at least put on a little show. He runs forward launching into a cartwheel, picking up the papers as he goes – Bruce likes his tricks, sometimes they even make him laugh, sometimes –

Bruce snags his ankle out of the air, his quick reflexes saving Dick from crashing into the edge of a counter. He finds himself hanging, the world stuck upside down as his hands dangle inches from the floor. “Thanks.” He looks up at Bruce’s weary face.

A yawn escapes his lips, and the corners of Bruce’s mouth twitch. “I’m going to have to child-proof the cave at this rate.” He tries for humor but it falls flat, his hearts not in it all.

He stares up, sticking his tongue out. Bruce’s frown doesn’t fade. “Are you okay?” He asks. Bruce’s hands fumble, and Dick swings dangerously low to the floor before he’s recovered. Not willing to take the chance again, he curls up, grabbing Bruce’s forearms and pulls himself up through his arms, settling himself on sturdy shoulders.

Bruce drops his feet. “I’m fine. Why would ask that?” He sounds almost hurt and Dick’s too tired to figure out why.

He slides down easily, Bruce gently deposits him on the floor. “You looked sad.” A yawn leaves his mouth without permission, he stumbles slightly, and a hand clamps down on his shoulder. He reaches back up, and Bruce throws him up against his shoulder, wrapping him in a hug.

Dick yawns contently, his eyelids fluttering without his permission, as Bruce starts walking towards the stairs. “I’m sorry…” The arm around his back pulls him a bit tighter. “I’m just not enough.” A shaking hand combs through his hair and Dick squeezes back because he doesn’t know what to say.

Bruce grunts as he takes a step up the stairs. “Sleep on it?” Dick suggests, resting his eyes for just a moment.

“Mmhmm. It’s bedtime.” Dick’s half asleep by the time they reach the top. He’s not sure he hears Bruce whisper, “You’re a great kid, chum.”

It took Dick years before he really understood the feeling. And even more years before he made the connection that that was how Bruce had felt on late nights spent scouring for clues that just didn’t seem to exist, having worked for days straight on three hours of sleep, and watching Gotham send all of it up in flames setting you back months on an investigation.

He’s learned there’s nights it’s impossible to save everyone – hell, he’s seen Clark get his ass kicked, and Clark’s damn near close to god. Dick would know – the Titans have fought their namesake. But the Titans have fought humans and lost despite half their members being godlike, and besides that most days now he’s alone. It doesn’t matter how hard he tries, how much he plans, how prepared he is; sometimes things just go to hell and a handbasket and there’s nothing he can physically do to prevent it.

Most of the time, he’s fine with that. It’s fine he has limits. Logically, he knows he can’t be expected to everything. Logically, he knows it’s a waste of time to worry about it. Logically, he knows it’s okay to take a night off, watch a nature documentary, invite a friend over, stay in and spend the night simply existing.

But it feels like he could be doing more – should be doing more. He feels that restlessness overtake him, and springs to his feet “Bruce I-”

Bruce gives him his patented bat-glare from where he’s sitting, looking up from a familiar pile of papers. Once it would have intimidated him into sitting back down. Now he just returns it with a patented one of his own. “-I think I’ll suit up and head out for the night, Tim could probably use some back up with-”

“Dick.” There’s this exasperated tone that Bruce can only ever seem to muster when saying his name. He pauses for a just a second, his eyes flickering down to Bruce’s clenched fists and tight shoulders. “Let me handle it.” It comes out as an order, but reading between the lines, it’s a plea.

Bruce would never admit it out loud, worry practically bleeds out of the man. Guilt gnaws on the inside of his chest, though, he’s not sure what it’s even from; the guilt of making Bruce worry or the guilt of being a useless sack of broken and bruised ribs while people need Nightwing’s help. Being benched sucks, but he knows enough to compromise. “Let me run the comms? Babs could use a night off.” She sleeps less than him and Bruce knows it.

The gray streaks in Bruce’s hair stand out all the more as he lets out a bone deep sigh. Dick rolls his eyes – he doesn’t get to do this right now. “You literally let me go out last night I don’t understand why-”

“Last night was an emergency. I didn’t have a choice.” His frown widens, his face etched in an eternal look of pain, mixed with disproval. “Two nights ago… you almost…” His mouth seals itself shut, unspoken words hanging in the air between them. It’s Bruce that breaks the gaze first. “Run the comms, don’t overexert yourself. It should be a quiet night…” He stands, hesitates before walking off “And get to bed early.”

Dick bites back a laugh, Bruce hasn’t talked to him like that since he was thirteen. “Alright.” He resists the urge to poke fun, and follows Bruce through the passage behind the grandfather clock.

“So Ives was talking about the Pirates of the Caribbean movie with me the other day, and we might go see it this weekend if I have the time. Gee- I can’t remember the last time I saw movie in theaters or even really hung out with him.” Tim’s endless chatter helps him stay awake in the dimly lit cave. His throbbing ribs help too, maybe he shouldn’t have tried doing push-ups. “Dad and Dana want to drop me off, but Ives has a car now, though dad’s still worried cuz of the time some wacko tried to stop us at a traffic light.”

Dick hums, a smile creeping its way up his face. “I can drop you off if it’s an issue.”

“Really?! That’d be awesome, you could stay for the movie if you wanted to, but I don’t know if you’d like it, I mean are pirates really your thing? I always figured you’d be more into Vikings or probably aliens actually, or something like-” A red light flashes on the screen, and Dick snaps to attention.

“Hold that thought.” Tim’s chatter ceases immediately as Dick furiously types on the terminal. He punches into the main line. “Batgirl how fast can you get to the corner of 16th and Murphy’s Ave, there’s a building on fire and you’re the only one anywhere near the Upper East Side.” A 911 operator calms down a hysterical woman in his left ear, Cass asking direction in the right.

He pulls up a map. “I-I can’t find a way out!” The woman shrieks. “I don’t know what happened, I was sleeping and-” she breaks off into raspy hacks.

“Go straight, turn right after three blocks down.” Dick winces, as the lady continues chocking on smoke. “C’mon Cass. Get there.” He mutters off the line. He eyes his cycle sitting idly in the bay – he’s twenty minutes out; Cass needs backup. He opens up another line. “Batman I need you to follow Batgirl, what’s your eta?”

Bruce grunts back, he hears thudding over the line. “Fifteen minutes.” The woman screams in his other ear, he yanks the earbud out as a massive bang nearly blows out his eardrum. Picking it back up, he can’t hear the woman anymore, only the roar of flames and falling debris.

“Shit.” He pulls up video from a street camera. “Shit.” The building’s collapsing in on itself. “Permission to call the league?” He clicks through to their line of communications, his finger hovering over the button.

“Here.” Cass scrambles into view, bursting through a window. Shit.

Bruce learned his limits long ago. Dick’s finally settling into his. Cass? They simply don’t register on her radar. The buildings coming down in mere minutes; she’s going to get killed.

“What’s the situation?” Bruce yells in his ear.

“Batgirl get out of there!” He screams at Cass. She’s going to die – the building’s not stable, and he’s the one that sent her there. “Make it five minutes – the building’s coming down.” He yells to Bruce. “Batgirl!” He watches a few windows blow out. A firetruck careens down the street.

“Permission granted.” Bruce huffs and Dick can’t click the button fast enough.

A couple more windows blow out, and the building seems to lean to the side. Finally he sees Cass climb back out a window, holding a couple kids in her arms as she leaps to the ground. “BATGIRL GET THEM CLEAR!” His heart pounds in his throat as she runs forwards, the building groaning behind her, crumbling to the side. Chaos erupts, chunks of flaming debris cascading from the top of the building, as the second floor merges with the first.

Dick blinks, his mouth dry. “There’s more people-” he can’t hear Cass over the ensuing cacophony as he watches the building topple to the ground. “NO!” He faintly hears her scream as the screen erupts in static.

Dick slams his fists on the desk. His chest constricts painfully. “Nightwing. Report.” Bruce’s steady voice reminds him to breathe. His chest spasms. Shit. “Nightwing!” Bruce demands as he tries to catch his breath.

“Building collapsed.” He manages to get out. “One sec.” He takes a few deep breaths, leaning back in the chair for support. “Batgirl report.” He’s greeted with silence. “Batgirl, please, if you’re there I need you to respond.”

“I…” Cass trials off. Dick sighs in relief. “I’m sorry.” The line cuts off. Well. Shit.

“Nightwing! I’m headed to the location.” Bruce squawks. Dick sighs.

“It’s going to be a long night. Search and rescue, I’ll call in backup.” Shit. So much for an early bedtime.

“Hey.” Someone shakes his shoulder. He makes a grab for their wrist and misses, his mind processing where the hell he is. He blinks a few times.

“Cass?” Her hair’s plastered to the side of her head and she’s covered in soot. Nicks, rips, and tears decorate her costume. Dick wipes his eyes as the ashy smell of smoke overwhelms his senses. Cass takes a few steps back, heading towards the locker room. “Wait.” He had something to say to her, his mind racing to catch up.

She hops up onto a counter. His mind shuffles through the events earlier in the night. “Bruce sent you back?” Cass nods glumly. The rescue efforts weren’t going well when he dozed off. The JLA sent in everyone they could spare; there’s nothing they can do anymore. Not that Bruce won’t try.

Cass’s lips are sealed. There’s a haunting expression in her eyes, her shoulders slump forward, her hands firmly plant themselves on the counter for support.

And his friends think he’s too much like Bruce.

“Hey.” He starts. She gives him a weary look, tears welling in her eyes. Well, maybe not exactly like Bruce. “Look, I’m sorry I put you in that position.” Cass shakes her head. “Sometimes things like this happen. I should have-”

“Stop.” Cass pulls her feet up on the counter, getting dust everywhere. “I should have been faster.” She swallows, refusing to let the tears spill over. “My fault.”

Dick watches as she glides off the counter, yanking off her gloves and dropping them on the floor. Burn marks dot her hands and the edges of her hair are singed. “You did everything you could.” She hesitates, before taking a step towards the showers.

“Not enough.” She mutters before storming off, leaving a trail of soot in her wake.

He stands up. “Cass.” The lock snaps shut with a click as she slips into the bathroom. Leaving Dick in an empty cave once more.

By the time he returns downstairs, Cass is already out of the shower, looking displeased. “You took my clothes.” She notes unhappily, a pale pink towel tucked tightly around her shoulders.

Dick watches water drip down from her hair, pattering on the floor. The trail leading back to the bathroom is now mixed with water and soot. Alfred’s going to be pissed. “I took your costume.” He clarifies. “And I brought you clothes.” He gestures towards the open door.

Cass scowls, planting her feet defiantly. “I’m going out.” She reaches out a hand. Dick shrugs – there’s no way she can find where he hid her filthy suit before they get a chance to wash it.

It’s all too familiar, reading the lines across her brow, watching her shoulders slump when she stills, and scanning red rimmed eyes. “What are you going to do like that?” He points out, Cass angrily storming towards him. “You’re tired, you’ll just end up being in the way.” He dodges left as a fist flies past his face. “You would have hit if I wasn’t right.” She’s faster than him on his best days.

She glares at him with pursed lips, staring before turning on her heel and storming off towards the bathroom. The door slams behind her, triggering the rustling of far away wings.

Dick sighs – he hopes he wasn’t this temperamental when he lived with Bruce. “Come up to the kitchen when you’re done, I need your help with something.” The lie rolls easily off his tongue, though he feels a twinge of guilt as Cass groans behind closed doors.

Cass’s eyes widen as she enters the room. Dick offers a smile as she edges closer to the table. He tosses a spoon, she snags it out of the air. “Dig in.” There’s a carton of chocolate ice cream – double chocolate chunk brownie sundae with hot fudge and chocolate sprinkles to be precise – and tons of candy. It’s not stuff Bruce keeps around, but Dick’s has a stash at Tim’s house reserved for movie nights. He’ll restock later.

Cass vigorously stabs the ice cream with her spoon, a smile dancing across her face as she takes a few bites. She pauses, sticking the spoon back in the cartoon, looking up with a confused expression. “Why?” She’s wearing fluffy pajama bottoms, fuzzy socks, and an old worn college sweatshirt that’s frayed at the hems. Dick can almost pretend he’s back, talking to Donna after she broke up with Roy their sophomore year of high school.

She’s watching Dick carefully. He hums casually. “You had a rough night.” This is what the Titans always did. She shrugs.

“Things happen.” She shovels a few more bites into her mouth. “I want to go out.” It’s hard for Dick to find her tough and grizzled when she’s guzzling gummi worms, kicking her feet back and forth on the stool.

“Consider this a reason to stay in.” She gives him a sideways glance. “You did as much as you can, that’s enough.” Cass looks pointedly at her ice cream, not hesitating before diving back into it.

“Spar with me?” She licks a skittle before sticking it in her mouth.

Dick snorts. “If I don’t have a heart attack, I think Bruce would.” She snaps up to attention, grabbing his wrist and quickly finding his pulse point. “I’m fine, Cass.” Her hands are freezing. He places one of his on top of hers. “If you weren’t there I wouldn’t have been.” He says quietly, catching her eye. “Thank you.” She pulls back as if burned, quickly busying herself with the candy. He waits a moment before adding, “I think those kids you saved are grateful too.”

Cass throws a bag of M&M’s at him, he’s a second too slow and it pelts him in the face. “Noted.” He grins. “Uh, also, I’m going to have to do something with your hair.”

“What.”

“Cass, hold still.” She immediately stops squirming under his hands. “Thanks.” She hums back, tucked under an old blanket that never seems to leave the back of the couch. Bruce still isn’t here, but Tim checked in after his stakeout, and headed home a half an hour ago. He snips away another lock of burnt hair, tossing it into a trash can next to him.

He rests his forearms on the back of the sofa, contemplating which section of her hair to start with next. “You find one you like yet?” He asks, peeking over her shoulder at the images of hairstyles.

“Uhh.” She scrolls a bit more. “I don’t care.” She tosses the phone up to the top of the couch.

“Mmm.” He didn’t expect much else. Donna texted him a picture earlier to copy – something easy to pull back but still stylish. He attacks the next section, carefully brushing out the tangles, starting bottom to the top. He’s oddly grateful for all those times he did Donna and Kory’s hair.

‘Practice for when Bruce finally adopts a girl.’ They used to tease. ‘You’ll have a real sister, and if his track record holds she’ll have black hair and blue eyes.’ He’s never lived the irony down. Though, Cass’s eyes are a beautiful warm brown, so Donna and Kory can take that.

“You know.” He keeps his tone light. “Most hairdressers and their clients talk.” Cass remains set in stony silence. “Though I guess most people go to a salon to get their hair cut.” He just visits Joey. “Some people say it’s like free therapy.”

“You talk a lot.” Cass notes. He pulls up doodle jump on his phone and passes it back to her. She plays a couple rounds before the phone’s placed back beside him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He already knows the answer, but still asks all the same.

“No.” Bruce never wanted to either. Barbara used to talk to him… before he left for the Titans and took years to look back. Though he likes to dream otherwise, he knows there’ll come a day when Tim won’t want to talk to him anymore either.

It doesn’t get any easier being shut out. “That’s alright. If you change your mind I’m here.” He grabs the shears, snipping away another dead end.

“Thanks.”

“Dick.” A hiss awakes him, light following soon after. He squints, turning away to bury his face in a cushion. “Where’s Cassandra?”

He turns, eyes snapping open as he quickly scans the sofa. The blanket hangs off the edge, Cass nowhere to be seen. One of her custom batarangs sticks out of his armchair’s armrest, a few inches from his hand. “She must have found her costume.” He notes, glancing towards the pajamas crumpled in the doorway. His eyes meet Bruce’s as he lets out a tired sigh.

His hair’s dripping, fresh from a shower, and it’s singed at the edges. Dick nods towards the sheers on the coffee table. “Tomorrow.” Bruce decides, crossing the room, picking up the blanket as he goes. Dick pushes down the footrest, slowly rising to his feet. His ribs twinge at every move, in hindsight, falling asleep hanging off the side of an armchair wasn’t his best idea. Bruce hovers closer than normal, watching carefully, worry lines set in concern. “Bed.”

Dick’s too tired to argue. “Bed.” He agrees. And though Bruce doesn’t carry him, he accompanies him up the stairs.

#bad things happen bingo #dick grayson #cassandra cain #batfam #batfamily #nightwing #batgirl #my writing #sorry i've had this request for like 2 months but you know what we made it eventually 💀😅 #thanks for the request anon! #i couldn't resist doing Cass but shout out to you remembering Danny Chase exists like dang iconic

[sprnklersplashes]

heart of stone (6/?)

AO3

Janis ditches the tights and jean shorts by Wednesday. There’s a slight look of ‘I told you so’ on her mother’s face, but she spares Janis the lecture out of politeness. Janis never thought she’d miss them, but here she is.

Sitting cross-legged on her bed, she scribbles another flower on the page, a twin for the one next to it. Not an exact twin, it’s thinner and its petals are more spiked and sharp than the one she drew before it. It’s less inviting, more dangerous. Angry, even. Like if she picked it up she’d cut her finger on it. She hadn’t intended for it to happen; in fact, she’d set out to doodle some pretty little flowers in an attempt to brighten up her sketchbook. But the pencil, as it often does, did what it wanted. She turns it on the side, trying to find a way to like it. It’s not bad work, not her best but certainly not her worst. Maybe she could like it if she had drawn it earlier, but she had really been hoping to get something nice into her book today.

With a sigh, she sets the book on her lap and swings her body around so that her feet dangle over the edge of her bed. Her next round of chemo isn’t due for a few hours, a long stretch of time to attempt to fill with activity. While she’s only been in the hospital for two full days, she’s decided that the worst part is the waiting around for the next thing to happen. Granted, much of that can be put on her as she’s spent more time in her room than she has anywhere else, distracting herself with TV and art and her parents and texting her friends every chance she can get. It all comes together and forms some kind of routine for her, one that’s built with as much familiarity and comfort as possible woven through it. The only downside to it is that the room’s been getting progressively smaller since two days ago and it wasn’t long before it started choking her.  

She left the door slightly open and peers into the hallway, the brightness of the walls striking against the cool tones of her room. She can hear the faint sounds of half-conversations that overlap with each other; nurses gossiping with each other while fiddling with IVs, the inhabitants of the longue talking and laughing about who knows what, doctors prescribing new rounds of medicine. The ward is much more alive than she had Janis ever thought it could be, a constant hum in the background of the day to day life keeps the place awake.

She taps her nails on the cover of her book, her swinging legs gaining momentum as she debates following the pull in her chest, compelling her to maybe leave her room for more than five minutes at a time and follow the sounds of conversation. Maybe talk to people who aren’t her medical team or her parents. Make some friends, because as everyone knows, cancer wards are prime social hotspots. She may not be here forever, but she’ll be here long enough to justify getting comfortable.

What’s the worst that can happen, logic had asked her that first night.

Literally so freaking much, she responded. Friends aren’t exactly her strong suit. Regina was a mistake, Damian was luck, and Cady was a gift. She could indulge her inner loser and tell herself it’s because she’s special and tailor made to a few specific people, but the thought of that makes her roll her eyes. So she faces up to the truth and all it entails; that she’s merely been unlucky in the friendship department, something that can be boiled down to one terrible experience and everything that came after it and lingers long after the smoke has cleared.

You’re being ridiculous she tells herself. If there’s a Regina George clone here, she’ll be thoroughly impressed. So she pulls her boots on and pushes herself off the bed, quickly explaining to her mom that she’s going to hang out in the longue for a bit.

“You need me to come with you?”

“I’m fine,” she says, a small smile on her face as she pulls on a cardigan. She nods at the intense competitive cooking show her mom has on the TV. “Tell me who wins. And don’t leave out any details.”

“Well we both know it’s not going to be Leticia judging by the look of that beef,” she says seriously. Janis clicks her tongue before turning and heading down, her steps smaller than normal and her sketchbook held against her chest like a shield. Her stomach twists uneasily, not from the chemo or anything like that, just from good old-fashioned anxiety. In an odd way, it’s a relief to feel ill in that way.

When she pushes herself past the open doors, all eyes turn to her and only look away to talk with other people. It’s far more populated than the last time she was here, people sitting in groups of two and three, most in pyjamas and some with hats. But all of them in groups, belonging with each other. Is this how Cady felt all those months ago, when she and Damian spotted her heading to the bathroom? Maybe her girlfriend had the right idea that day. A bathroom stall is a way better alternative to a room full of strangers.

Unfortunately, she knows better by now, and so she settles in an armchair as gracefully as she can, her legs tucked beneath her, and tries to shake off the discomfort she feels by opening her book and giving her hands something to do.

“You’re new,” a girl sitting on the floor states. She’s one of the few that actually has hair, dark brown and curly, and it makes Janis feel a little more at ease. Is that bad, she has to ask.

“Third day,” she explains, offering her a small wave. “I’m Janis.”

“Melissa,” she says. She leans back on her arms and exposes a little bandage inside her elbow. Janis pulls her own arm a little closer. Melissa doesn’t seem to notice, instead gesturing to her with her chin.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, this?” she asks, her cheeks growing warm. “Oh, just some drawings I do.”

“Cool,” she says. “So you do art?”

“Sometimes it’s like the art does me," she says dryly, earning a chuckle. “But you know how it is.”

“My best friend says that all the time,” Melissa sighs. “She says she wants to go to art college but I’ve watched her cry over trying to hand in assignments.”

“You sound like my mom,” Janis replies. “Literally every time I bring up doing art in college she tells me how stressful it is.” She shrugs lightly. “She’s not wrong, but it’s the only thing I want to do.”

“Is your mom here?”

“Yeah, she’s back in my room,” she explains. “I left her watching some cooking show on TV.”

“Wow, and you’ve only just here. I’ve been here for a month and I only just got my mom to let me out of her sight,” she sighs, a resigned smile on her face and her eyebrow raised in a silent ‘you know how it is’. “Want to play some Scrabble? We’ve started keeping a scoreboard so we can add you in. We have a whole tournament going.”

“Sounds fun,” Janis says, pushing herself off the chair. “Although I should give you warning, I’m dyslexic, so I kind of suck at it.”

Janis follows her across the longue, slipping her hand into her pocket when she thinks she sees the other girl reach out to her. There’s a pang of guilt in Janis’ chest even though Melissa doesn’t seem to care, and she does her best to work through it. She exchanges names and smiles with other kids, all introduced by Melissa. It’s an odd feeling; she’s not used to being the one who’s introduced. She’s either known people so long she doesn’t need to or she’s the one making the introduction, but today her mouth feels dry and her tongue tied so much that all she can do is say ‘hi’ and try to keep up with the rest of the little group. But despite this, and despite the fact that she does supremely suck at Scrabble, they aren’t half bad. They welcome her in with no problem at all, asking her about school and life and art as they set up tiles and she knows the right questions to ask them. She laughs at their jokes and nods along to the conversation, even adding in her own take now and again as it builds into a steady flow.

It’s not entirely perfect; she can’t help but feel slightly on the outside when they bring up a nurse or a patient she doesn’t know and she’s much more quiet than she’s used to being, unsure which, if any, topics are off-limits, where the lines are. But she’s enjoying herself enough to drown out her earlier worries even if it can’t make them fade entirely, and her mood only picks up when she hears someone behind her say (squeal) her name, followed a flash of pink and rainbow appearing in her vision. How times change when a pink sweater can make her smile instead of grimace.

“Maddie!” The younger girl leans into her side, eyes bright and sparkling, and Janis puts an arm around her shoulders. “Hey kid, where have you been?”

“Where have you been more like,” she replies. “I haven’t seen you since Monday.”

“Been busy,” she says. No one presses, likely because they all understand.  They’ve all been where she is before. “And now I’m busy losing at Scrabble. Badly.” Maddie chuckles and when her arms wrap around Janis and chin rests on her shoulder, she can’t say no to it. There’s nothing uncomfortable about such a gesture and it almost feels as natural as hugging Damian or when Karen rests her head on her shoulder, despite her only knowing the girl for two days.

“Oh hey, did they tell you about the photography thing yet?” she asks.

“That what now?”

“Oh it’s this thing the cancer centre started,” Melissa explains. “Basically they want us to take pictures of stuff that matters to us. Us doing hobbies, us with our friends, the whole shebang. It’s meant to be about our cancer not defining us or whatever.” She gives a casual shrug. “It’s fun anyway. You should do it. Especially since you have your art thing.”

“Sounds like fun,” she says before poking Maddie in the ribs. “Now come on, kid. Help me make a word out of these.”  

And maybe it’s Maddie’s presence or just time passing, but Janis suddenly finds herself a lot less anxious. She even gets to the point where she trades playful insults with another kid, a boy around her age, and form a team up of sorts against him with one of the other girls. They can’t replace her real friends and she wouldn’t try to, the bonds she’s formed with Damian and Cady are too important and were put through too much to be replicated, but she suspects that they could quickly become new friends.

What’s more, treatments and diagnosis come in and out of the conversation with unexpected ease, and when Janis talks about her own, it’s the same. She hadn’t realised how much of this she’d held back, even in her texts and calls with Damian and talks with her mom. And while she feels bad for it, it also feels so, so good to talk to people like this. People who aren’t her parents or her doctors. People who are, well… like her.

And as it turns out, her next round is scheduled the same time as Melissa’s, and so they head down the hallway together. While Melissa continues to make conversation, Janis’ responses dwindle the closer she gets to her room. It doesn’t take long for the good feeling from the longue to fade, and the image of the needle in her vein becomes sharper in her mind.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Janis asks suddenly.

“Sure.”

“Does it…” She swallows past the lump in her throat. She finds a loose thread on her cardigan and toys with it until the question comes out. “Does it ever get easier? All this?”

“Well…” Melissa stops in their tracks and Janis almost trips as she does the same, immediately regretting asking. The other girl bites her lip, searching for the right answer. It feels like hours before she says “I don’t really know. I can’t speak for you. We’re all different here.” She tucks her hair behind her ear. “I mean… I guess you get used to it. So it starts getting less scary, I guess.”

Janis only nods and then Melissa reaches out and taps her arm.

“It doesn’t stop sucking,” she sighs. “You just get used to it sucking.”

“And then we all bond over it sucking?” she asks, smirking.

“You get it,” she replies with a laugh. “See you later, Janis.”

“Bye.”

After Melissa leaves, she lingers in the hallway for a minute, pressing her finger into the spot where her IV goes. The problem is exactly what Melissa said-you get used to it. And she really, really doesn’t want to get used to it. Getting used it to means that she’ll be here for a while, that something else replaces her old life. Especially now, after the year she had last year, she wants to get used to good stuff, not stuff that ‘sucks’. The idea of this, medicines and hospitals and doctors, becoming normal to her sends a shiver down her back.

But she learned a while ago how to live in reality, even when it’s not what she wants. And it’s with that attitude she walks into her room, where she finds not only her IV set up, but a text from Cady detailing something funny from her math class and how much she misses her.

Even if she gets used to everything else, she knows she’ll never, ever get used to missing Cady.

                                                                                               *****

Friday morning, she wakes later than she normally does. It’s a slow process at the start, sleep pulling her in and begging her to stay, the hospital-issue sheets softer than soft around her and forming a cosy cocoon that she’s so tempted to remain in.

That is, until she remembers what day it is, and then she’s jolted awake.

Friday. Or as she’s called it, Damian-and-Cady day.

It was an unspoken agreement that the two of them were visiting her in here. Just like her father, they were insistent on coming over every moment they could, with Damian jokingly suggesting he could hide under her bed and they could have a sleep over (which they had considered in seriousness and attempted to plan). But thanks to a little thing called school, and another thing called distance, today was the first day she could see them, which is why now she’s wide awake, bright eyed, bushy tailed, everything. Because she’s finally seeing them again and filling the hole in her soul being away from them had carved.

“Morning, kid,” her mom says cheerily, entering the room with a cup of coffee in one hand. “They’re still serving breakfast downstairs, or if you want it brought up to you-”

“Sounds great, Mom,” she replies, only half paying attention. She turns on her phone, her leg bouncing anxiously as she waits for it to load. Has it always been this slow at turning on? She swears it hasn’t been. It takes an eternity for her lockscreen to come up, the time written across it in thin white numbers.

“Ten thirty?” she reads out loud before her head snaps up. “Mom, why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Why would I?” she asks. “You need all the rest you can get, and you’ve still got time before you’re due a round.”

“I know,” she sighs, rubbing her eyes. “But Cady and I text good morning to each other and it was my turn this morning. I don’t want her to think I forgot.”

“Well, I’m sure Cady understands. You know, with all that’s going on, maybe she’s not expecting good mornings right now.”

“Course she is,” she replies quickly. In what universe would Cady not wait for a good morning from her? “It’s our thing. Didn’t you and Dad have a thing?” She types out the message and sends it quickly, although Cady probably won’t see it for at least another two hours.

“Oh, you think we did good morning e-mails back in those days?” she says, laughing a little. She sits on the bed next to her on the bed. “So are you getting some breakfast? Someone can bring it up if you don’t feel up to going down, I’ll just tell them what you want-”

“It’s fine, Mom.” She reaches under the bed and pulls on a sweater before slipping into her boots and raking a brush through her hair. “I might as well go down. Someone might take the last yogurt while I’m down there.”

Truthfully, she doesn’t really feel like eating. Not anything bad, she’s just not hungry, but it’ll put her mom’s mind at ease. Just as she thought, the tension fades from her mom’s shoulders, and when she pats her shoulder, there’s more relief in her smile than just breakfast warrants.

She eats in her room, with the TV on, like she does when she’s sick at home. She could eat in the dining room, but despite the new friends she’s made she prefers eating in private, especially away from the buzzing nurses. As she flips around the channels, her phone buzzes on the plastic table, the screen lighting up to show her a new text that makes her smile and roll her eyes at once.

‘Good morning, babe. Can’t wait to see you today. Also, ik I can’t really change it now, but what do we think of the outfit?’

Beneath the message is a picture of Cady in her bedroom mirror, clad in a black vest and blue flannel shirt with white skinny jeans, her hair held back in a high, loose ponytail, soft curls framing her round face, her eyes looking up at the mirror as she gives an open, toothy grin. And Janis can’t help it, she squeals. God damn it, her girlfriend is cute.

‘Love it, love it, love it. You’re the queen of cuteness. And apparently, texting during class. Stop doing that. If I get a text from you between now and lunch I will not cuddle you later.’

‘I’m not texting during class, it’s study hall.’ Wow, what on Earth has happened to the ever-studious, rule following Cady Heron? Not even Plastic Cady texted during study hall. ‘Besides, you have to cuddle with me. It’s legally required and I’m deprived of Janis cuddles.’

‘Only if you be good and don’t text during school hours.’ She fires back, chuckling under her breath. ‘And you remain that freaking adorable.’

“Well someone’s in a good mood.” She looks up and sees Doctor Wiley standing in the doorway, and her smile dips a little, the perfect bubble she was sitting in with Cady ruined. Not enough to ruin her mood, nothing could do that, but it shakes it.

“It’s her girlfriend,” her mom explains.

“How do you know that?”

“Your smile,” she says. “It’s your ‘Cady smile’.”

“I don’t…” Her voice trails off and her mom simply shrugs. Well look at that. She’s that girlfriend now.

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” Wiley says, striding towards her. Under the table, Janis crosses her fingers that this is a normal good morning visit. She’ll take bad news on any day that’s not Damian-and-Cady day. “So, Janis, a lot of us on your team have been talking and we’ve decided to ask if you might want to get a port inserted.”

“A what?” she asks.

“Think of it like a little reservoir put underneath your skin,” he explains. “Just to make receiving the chemo easier on you. A lot of patients have one put in.”

“Oh, wow.” Way to bring the mood down, Doc, she thinks. Sometimes she envies the younger patients who have their parents making all the hard decisions. Still, one word sticks out in all that. “It makes it easier?”

“Quite a bit easier,” he agrees. “For one thing, it’s a lot more comfortable than an IV.” There’s a plus. “And a lower risk of your medicine leaking out-”

“Sounds cool,” she interrupts quickly before he can bring up an image she doesn’t want. “Um, can I think about it? I mean, is it urgent?”

“No, of course not,” Wiley replies with a stiff smile. “I’ll let you and your mom discuss it.”

He leaves them after an uncomfortable silence, nodding to her and her mom and reminding her that he’s around if she has any questions.

“So what do you think?” her mom asks.

“I don’t think.” She picks her phone back up and jumps off the bed. “Where did you put my clothes?”

“I put everything in your bag, it’s under the bed,” she replies. Janis pulls out her bag, sorting through the mass of denim, cotton, plaid and leather, all while her mom hovers behind her with anxious eyes that drill into her back. "Janis, you should consider this.”

“And I will,” she sighs. She pulls out a shirt she’s always liked and throws it on the bed. “Just not right now.” She shakes her head, trying to clear some of the smoke in her brain. Still sitting on the ground, she looks up at her mom and sighs. “Mom, I just want to not think about cancer stuff right now. I just want to see my friends and think about that.” She toys with the shirt in her hands and bunches it into a tight ball, her arms tense and shaking and her grip tight. “Is that okay?”

Her voice sounds impossibly broken on that question. And while it wasn’t intentional, it works on her mom, who nods and comes over to pat her hair.

“Okay, sweetie,” she says, and that’s the temporary end of it.

The day passes even slower than it normally does in hospital-time. Hours stretch on and on with no end in sight and she can’t distract herself no matter what she tries to do. She can’t focus long enough to read or settle on one TV show and even games in the longue can only get her so far. She tries checking her social media when on her IV, but she’s hardly there a minute before her anxiety peaks again after seeing pictures of her friends. Besides, it’s mostly dry now, everyone else is in class.

Finally, finally, it comes to the afternoon and it’s close enough that she can justify beginning to get ready. She stretches, grateful for the little power nap she took earlier, and fishes her make-up out of her bag. It’s not everything, but it’ll have to work, as will the tiny mirror in her bathroom.

“What’s going on in here?” The voice makes Janis jump six feet, even though it’s the honey-toned voice of one of the older nurses. “Little makeover.”

“Just wanted to look nice today,” she explains as she unscrews the foundation. She’s a little bit surprised to see that she’s not out of practice since she’s been bare-faced for well over a week now. Bigger priorities and all that.

“Her girlfriend’s coming over today,” her mom says in a low voice.

“It’s not just that,” she says, even though it might be. “Damian will also be here.”

“Oh you kids and your relationships,” the nurse chuckles as she takes the empty bags out. In the mirror, Janis sees her point sternly in her direction as though she were her mother. “Just remember Janis, if she really cares about you, she won’t care how much muck you have on your face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she says as she applies a coat of eyeshadow, deep indigo and sparkling under the low lights. She adds a generous amount of purple lipstick next, a shade that’s always been a favourite of hers, and four coats of mascara. Some say that’s overkill, she disagrees. Bigger, bolder, better after all.

She takes a second before looking at herself properly, and when she does it makes her happier than it has any right to be. She looks like herself again. Not a girl with cancer. A girl who is perfectly healthy and happy, the dark circles around her eyes and the pale tint to her face deliberate. Not only that, she feels stronger, even though she hadn’t been aware of any weakness before. She can breathe easier now. She’s herself again. A little winded but it was worth it.

When she’s done, Cady and Damian should get out of school in about ten minutes. They worked it all out; they’ll get the first bus from school up to the hospital, which should take about twenty-five minutes. She offered to pay their bus tickets and her mom had offered to pick them up, but neither one of them would hear any of it. Damian in particular would die before accepting money from anyone.

So she has just over half an hour. Maybe closer to forty minutes when factoring in waiting for the bus and various stops…

She probably should have left the make-up to later just to give herself something to do.

No, it’s fine. The last thing she wants is them walking in on her doing her make-up. Besides, there’s plenty to do for half an hour. She’s waited this long after all. She checks her outfit again, first in the bathroom mirror, by bouncing repeatedly, and then by using the camera on her phone. This morning she was sure about this outfit. Now she’s not sure about this skirt. Maybe if her mom had woken her up earlier she’d have had more time to plan it. The shirt is fine, it’s something Cady loves, so she won’t trade it, but the skirt… it’s not working. She grabs more stuff from her bag and lays it out on the bed, debating each one carefully. There’s a pair of studded shorts that she doesn’t think looks right with the shirt, a pair of jeans that would be far too uncomfortable, and a dark grey skirt that she’s not worn that much and is a little short-

“Holy crap,” she sighs. She shakes her head at herself. She hasn’t obsessed this much over her looks since middle school. “You’re insane, Sarkisian. You’re fine.”

They’ve both seen her look worse, surely.

She forces herself to sit on the bed and just watch some freaking YouTube like a normal person. She gets a text from Damian telling her they’re on their way, and she takes a deep breath and sends a response. She then has one eye on the phone and one eye on the window, all the while counting the minutes until they should be here.

Twenty five minutes. One video later, it’s twenty one. Another video, eighteen. Another video, plus a sip of the coffee her mom got her, fourteen. Another video, plus re-checking her make-up, ten. Another video, six. Another video, three.

And now they should be here. They probably are; they’re probably walking through the lobby. Maybe the elevator’s a little slow, maybe they got lost. This is a big place and they don’t even know where they ward is. Do they? Did she tell them? She grabs her phone and checks their groupchat, scrolling through the week-

“Janis?” Her name is accompanied by a soft knock on the door, and when she looks up, Cady is standing in the doorway, looking even more beautiful than she did that morning with a breathless smile and dimples in her cheeks. And everything else she was feeling melts away.

Janis doesn’t care about dignity, she runs over and throws her arms around her. As Cady hugs her back just as fiercely, Janis fights the urge to pick her up off the floor.

“I missed you,” Cady whispers into her shoulder.

“I missed you more,” she replies, certain that she’s correct.

“Well I’ll just go then,” Damian jokes. “If you two need a moment alone.”

“Don’t even think about it,” she tells him seriously, jumping into his embrace. He runs his hand through her hair and even rocks her and everything about his embrace feels right.

“Got you these,” he says when they eventually pull apart. He presents her with a bunch of white flowers wrapped in silver paper. The scent is just like the gesture; so sweet it makes her well up.

“Oh you losers,” she says. “I love them.”

“Hi kids,” her mom greets from her chair in the corner. To be honest, Janis had actually forgotten her mom was there. So her mom has watched her run across the room and tackle-hug Cady. Nice. “How was school?”

“It’s fine,” Cady replies. “You know… senior year….”

“Oh I’m sure it is,” she says fondly. “I’ll give you kids some alone time.” She gives Janis’ shoulder a squeeze before heading out, and then Janis can hold Cady’s hand as tightly as she wants and pulls the two of them to the bed, utterly giddy at having them at her side again.

Even if it won’t last a voice in her head whispers.

“So come on, what have I missed?” she asks. “Other than you two, I mean. Tell me everything. Spill all the tea. I crave gossip!”

“It’s been a week, Jan,” Cady tells her, grinning and swinging her legs as her feet don’t touch the floor. “But, you do know that you’re talking to the newest captain of the North Shore Mathletes.”

“Come on then.” Janis digs her elbow in her girlfriend’s ribs. “Tell me everything.”

That’s all the incentive Cady needs.

She babbles on about her plans for the new year as Captain, how she’s already getting new recruits and she’s even allowed to invite freshmen and create Junior Mathletes, how she’s sure that membership is going to be double what it was last year (at which point Damian reminds her that there were only three people on the team last year), and about how they’re already starting to put together teams for a few contests, more than last year, and of course, how she’s ready to defend their state champion title. With each word, Janis’ heart grows warmer, the sense of security she’s craved all week settling and wrapping around her like her favourite blanket, and their hands lie intertwined on the bed a though they’d never been apart.

“So that’s my life…” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear. She shakes her head and covers Janis’ hand with hers. “But what about you, what’s it like in here?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she scoffs. “I’m always fine.” Cady’s smile dips, not enough, but Janis notice and let out a sigh. “I mean it’s not the ideal situation. But I’m… coping?”

“I do not like that inflection,” Damian adds, leaning back on the bed and raising an eyebrow.

“You wouldn’t,” she says. “Like, it’s not too bad. You know… the food is actually pretty good, we have some cool stuff in the longue, they know how to keep us occupied. The doctors are all great. Including one hot med student I’m considering setting Damian up with.”

“Consider my attention grabbed,” he says. “How hot are we talking here?”

“Like… Okay I’m not into dudes, so I’m not that great at guessing, but he’s a solid 7.5,” she explains. “Would be a 9 but he stabbed me several times while trying to find a vein.”

“He did what?” Cady squeals, making the two of them jump. Her eyebrows shot up her forehead. “He stabbed you?”

“Woah, yeah.” She grasps Cady’s shoulder and silently bites her tongue. She rubs it in circles, bringing her back down. “And it hurt for a few seconds and I was slightly annoyed by it. And then we laughed about it.” She strokes Cady’s cheek carefully. “Nothing bad, Caddy.”

“Okay.” Cady lets out a breath and shakes out her hands. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, love.” She plays a kiss on her cheekbone, the tension fleeing Cady’s body as she does so. She tangles her fingers in her hair. She even missed her hair. “It’s cute that you worry so much.”

“I always worry about you.” At that moment, Damian turns his attention to the window, and Cady rests her head on Janis’ shoulder and Janis wraps her arms around her. This, the fearful looks and causing anxiety to her, this is what Janis wanted to avoid in the first place.

Damn Cady Heron and her unflinching loyalty.

“You’re feeling okay though?” she asks quietly. “Right?”

“Okay’s a bit of a relative term these days,” she says. “I’m feeling a bit bleh. But it’s fine.” Cady murmurs something she guesses is an agreement and nestles closer to her. Janis rubs her hand up and down her arm. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” She presses her cheek into her head and closes her eyes, only for a moment.

“Anyway, enough of that stuff,” she says, bouncing and turning to Damian, beckoning him back over. “There’s got to be more that I’ve missed. Come on, spill.”

“Well…” Damian begins, spinning around to face them with a grin stretched across his face. He’s been waiting to tell her this, she can tell. “They’ve announced that the musical this year will be… drum roll.”

She can Cady drum their hands on their legs, the sound bouncing off the walls and making the room tremble with anticipation as it gets higher and faster until-.

“Cabaret!”

“No way!” she gasps. Damian nods excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet and clapping his hands together. “Stars have aligned, mon amie. Stars have aligned.”

“Which means,” he goes on, throwing himself down on the bed with such gusto that it bounces. “I am going to be the greatest Emcee that North Shore High would ever wish to have.”

“Damn right!” The two high five, their glee double that of the slightly out of the loop Cady. “Emcee has been one of Damian’s dream roles ever since middle school.”

“Ever since I came out of the damn womb!” he exclaims. “I cannot tell you how much I screamed when the drama club announced it.”

“I can,” Cady adds. “It was loud and long and he got several death glares from everyone else.”

“That’s the only appropriate way to react,” Janis chuckles. “We watched the movie way back when and that’s when he decided he was going to play the Emcee or die trying.”

“It’s also when Janis became gay for Liza Minelli.”

“I’m gay for myself,” she corrects. “Liza was just the object of young Janis’ affections.” She rests her chin on Cady’s shoulder and smiles at him. “I’m helping you prep for this. I don’t care if I have to break out of here with an IV in my arm, I’m helping you.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” he replies. “Also the drama club is devastated you can’t do the set this year.”

“Who the heck says I can’t?” she says indignantly. “Those morons they have won’t last five minutes without my guidance. And I will not have your shining moment ruined by a subpar set.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder. “We all know who really runs that drama club.”

“Oh really, madame,” Damian scoffs, turning so his leg is folded beneath him. Janis keeps smiling, despite the feeling that its being tugged down and the weight settling in her stomach. Of all the times he had to do Cabaret, why did it have to be now?

“Everyone really missed you at school,” Cady tells her.

“Bet it’s not everyone,” she says, half joking. “Not one person in particular.”

“Hey!” Cady slaps her arm. “Be nice.”

“I promised to play nice to her face,” Janis reminds her. “Not behind her back.” Cady huffs out a laugh, her face slightly scrunched up. “But how’s the most important thing; LGBT+ society?”

“Well, we’re having our first welcome back meeting on Wednesday,” Damian says. “And Gretchen is taking over your stall at the fair. Sonja’s going to help her out though,” he adds. “And Sonja’s taking over your spot on the committee too.”

“Good choice,” she says. Lovely as Gretchen is most of the time, Janis isn’t sure she could handle the pressure of running her stall. And Sonja’s the perfect choice to take over her committee spot, smart as a whip, decisive and funny as hell.

So why does the idea make Janis so uneasy?

“Yeah, why don’t we turn this TV on?” she says, grabbing the remote. “It apparently has Netflix, although I’m not entirely sure how to operate it. There’s a load of DVDs in the longue as well.”

“A DVD. Now there’s a name I haven’t heard in a while,” Damian says.

“I don’t think they have Cabaret though,” she sighs. “Which would be perfect for us right now.” She’s telling half-truths, because there’s a substantial collection of old movies, including musicals, but she doesn’t really want to brave the longue now, or to take them in there. The longue is probably her favourite place in the hospital, but it’s bound to be full right now. And for now, she wants to keep her cancer world and the real world separate.

So with some fussing, they manage to find Netflix and learn how to work it. Cady is insistent that Janis pick the movie, since it’s her room and she doesn’t know half of them and has already watched the other half. At the start of the summer, Janis had made Cady a list of every movie she needed to watch, and by the end of August they’d almost made it to the halfway mark. The best part wasn’t the movies themselves; it was the movie nights. Huddled under a comforter and surrounded by pillows, Cady’s body pressed against hers and the lights down low, buttery popcorn and sugar-covered candies keeping them going until one (usually Cady) fell asleep.

Now they make do with the thin hospital bed and the near-plastic sheets. At least they can adjust the height of it, and Janis positions Cady against her and Damian sits in the comfiest chair to watch The Parent Trap. It’s none of their favourites, but it’s familiar and good enough and while it wasn’t on the list, Cady hasn’t seen it yet. Besides, Damian can make any more fun.

And really, Janis can’t take any more of the back and forth debate.

The more the movie goes on, the more normal Janis feels. She runs her fingers up and down Cady’s bare arms, her girlfriend’s jacket discarded across a chair like she would in her house. The conversation is light and easy and full of giggles even at the stupidest, silliest thing, Damian quoting along with the movie and Cady hopelessly lost, especially at around halfway through when Janis decides to tell her that Annie and Hallie were played by the same person.

“No way!” she declares. “I’m not believing you until I see proof.”

“Google it,” she says. “Damian?”

“Way ahead of you.” He pulls up the page and shows her the cast list, with one little Lohan billed as the two twins. Cady’s mouth falls on the floor, her shoulders shaking in a silent, disbelieving laugh.

“Jesus Christ!” she says. “How did they do that all the way back then?”

“Movie magic,” Janis replies, wiggling her fingers for effect. “It’s okay, Caddy, we all felt betrayed when we first found out.”

“Didn’t she go off her rocker a bit?” she asks, pointing to the screen. “I know that much. Regina told me.”

“A little,” Janis agrees. “But I kind of feel bad for her, you know?”

“I guess.”

“Oh. Oh!” The camera pans up, revealing the striking and scary figure of Meredith Blake, and Janis squeezes Cady’s arms. “I hated this bitch.”

“I hated her more,” Damian adds, his tone not 100% light. “When I first watched this I had this soon-to-be stepmom, because my dad was back in the dating game, and she was…” He gags and points down his throat.

“Real mature, Damian,” Janis jokes. “I mean she absolutely was, but still. Mature.”

“Okay, missy,” he laughs. “Nah but I used to try to get inspiration from how to deal with her from this movie.”

“Shh!” she hisses sharply, covering Cady’s ears. “Spoilers!”

“I can still hear you,” Cady tells her. “And I could sort of guess. All the movies about step parents do that kind of thing, don’t they? Bratty kid gets wreaks havoc on the step parent?”

“Are you saying thirteen year old me was a brat?” Damian asks.

“Seventeen year old you is also a brat,” Janis teases. Damian gasps and grabs the cushion from the chair, aiming it at her head. Part of her is completely sure he wouldn’t, not in a hospital, part of her is completely sure he would because of course he would.

She doesn’t find out either way, because their gathering is interrupted by her medical team, and the weight in her stomach comes back with a vengeance.

“Not getting in the way are we?” Nurse Lucy asks.

“Not at all,” she says. Before she stops herself, she’s already pushing Cady off her. Heat rises in her cheeks. “That time again?”

“Unfortunately so,” she replies as Cady slides off the bed. “Is it okay if Jackson does it this time?”

“Yeah, sure.” As she rolls up her sleeve, her friends catch on to what’s happening, and Damian rushes to Cady’s side.

“I promise I’ll find the vein this time,” Jackson jokes.

“Oh this is the one you said-” Cady is cut off by Janis making a small ‘cut it out’ gesture with her hand. She then raises an eyebrow at Damian, whose small smirk tells her everything she needs to know.

She takes a look at her IV and her bare arm before turning back to them. She still hates this; shockingly, she hasn’t gotten used to it in under a week. Her stomach still drops a hundred feet when she looks at the needle and her chest tightens even if she’s only thinking about it.

“You guys don’t need to watch this,” she tells them. “It doesn’t hurt. But if you need to look away, it’s fine.”

“I’m fine,” Cady tells her. When Janis looks down though, she sees how tightly she’s holding Damian’s hand.

“Okay,” she says.

This time around it only takes Jackson three tries to find her vein before securing it with the bandage. Good for him. He’s learning.

“You know the drill by now?” Lucy asks.

“Two hours, stay hydrated.” She gives her a two-fingered salute.

“Two hours?” Cady echoes, and Janis has to chuckle at it. “This takes two hours?”

“That’s what she said the first time she found out,” Lucy says, gesturing to Janis. “I can see why you two like each other so much.”

“No but… two hours,” she says again as they leave. “What do you do for two hours?”

“I just… sit here I guess,” she answers, looking up at the medicine. “You know, there’s TV. I have books. I draw. Sometimes it knocks me out and I get a little surprise nap, so that’s fun.”

“Is that… should we go?” Cady asks. “If you’re going to-”

“Oh no.” She shakes her head firmly. “No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Completely.” She’s such a liar it’s a wonder her tongue hasn’t turned black and crumbled. “Come on. Let’s finish the movie at least.”

Cady lays beside her rather than on her, and Damian stays on the other side of the bed, away from her IV. She catches him once or twice, watching the drip instead of the movie. His gaze is unreadable, and since she’s always been able to know his thoughts without him speaking, it unsettles her.

It’s not long before that familiar tiredness descends on her, clouding her mind and pulling her downwards. And she fights it; she keeps her eyes open despite how they itch and shifts her body when she finds herself too comfortable lest she start drifting off. It’s a challenge, not just because of the medicine’s effect on her, but because of Cady’s warmth next to her, promising security and comfort and being there when she wakes up.

And she must have given into it at one point, because she opens her eyes after a blink and the movie is over; Nick and Elizabeth are together again, Annie and Hallie stay with each other forever, happy endings all around.

“What time is it?” Janis asks.

“Nearly five,” Damian explains. Visiting hours don’t end for another two hours. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” she asks. “I’m fantastic.”

“You sure?” Cady’s hand is on hers, slowly linking their fingers together. Janis squeezes her hand, clarity coming into her mind by her own will.

“Of course I’m sure.”

They don’t have to be home for another hour. Home for dinner, that’s the rule. That doesn’t really change. Damian tells her that his mom is thinking about her every day and was beside herself when she heard the news.

“She’s started following more baking blogs,” he tells her. “So prep yourself for a lot of baked goods on your doorstep.”

“I can’t object to that,” she says. “Especially since Val always bakes with love.”

At some point during the hour, Janis pulls Cady into her lap again, or Cady crawls into it, or both. Her head is under her chin and her back against her chest, slotting into place perfectly. Like if she holds her this close, she won’t have to leave.

Wishful thinking, she knows, because when it gets close to six, Cady picks up her jacket and her backpack and there’s nothing but empty air against Janis’ body.

She wishes she could lead them to the door, but her IV catches on everything, so they say their goodbyes where they are.

“Don’t miss me too much,” she warns them teasingly.

“I hardly ever think about you,” Damian replies, his voice thick.

“And you,” she tells him. “Better run lines with me. When’s auditions?”

“Next Thursday,” he tells her. “So I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Perfect,” she says. “I have treatments at 11, at 2… You know what? I’ll text you them.”

“Okay. And you were right by the way. That med student is a snack.” They laugh, and then there’s a moment of silence before he folds her in his arms, her face burying itself in the crook of his neck and his hand cupping the back of her head. “Take of yourself, okay?” His voice is so soft, so desperate, that it sounds like a plea.

“I will,” she says. “I always do.” Knowledgeable as always, he gives her and Cady space to say goodbye themselves. She rubs her hand on her shorts, nervousness gripping her body in a way she hasn’t felt in a while and she thoroughly dislikes.

“I’ll text you the second I get home,” Cady says. “And can I call you tomorrow?”

“Of course you can,” she says. “As long as you get some homework done tonight, kid.”

“I will,” she says. “I didn’t get the top grade in Norbury’s class for nothing.” Cady takes in a deep breath, her hand fidgeting around her backpack strap and her hair half-hiding her face. Janis reaches out and pushes it back and if she notices her shaking hand, she doesn’t say anything.

“Caddy-”

Janis actually wasn’t sure what she was going to say there, but it doesn’t matter, because Cady steps up and kisses her. It’s not perfect; it feels clumsy and awkward and they bump against each other, but it’s everything Janis needs. So much so that when they pull away, she doesn’t even attempt to hide the blush on her cheeks.

“Okay,” she whispers, grinning. “I’ll see you soon.” She steals another peck.

“See you later, Janis,” she whispers. They don’t stop holding hands for as long as they can and Janis is still looking at her until she’s out of view, walking back down the hall with Damian, maybe getting lost again. Down the hall, to the right, into the elevator and out the double doors. Bus stop down the street, next stop home. They ride together until Damian gets off and Cady stays on. All the while she stays here, IV in arm and her phone buzzing, talking to them until she falls asleep.

#mean girls broadway #mean girls the musical #cadnis #cady x janis #janis sarkisian #cady heron #damian hubbard #fic: heart of stone

[agentbarton12]

Old People Teenager Watchers

A/N: gonna be completely honest and tell you that i forgot i hadnt finished posting this. like, its been done and ive writen it but i completely fogot i had to post it. anyway, here you go!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6

—

the invitation — 6

Teenagers, in Tony's opinion, are the strangest breed of people. He’s pretty sure when he hired one, he was not hiring their mood swings, rebellious tendencies and relationship problems as well, but, it seems “you can’t get one without the other” or something dumb like that.

Tony liked to believe that over the last three odd years, he had gotten better at handling teenagers, but apparently not.

Truly, he was too old for this. He needed to fill in his formal Teenage Babysitter Resignation forms and hand them in to the board of Old People Teenager Watchers (“Parents, Tones. They’re called parents.”).

When Steve told Tony what that idiot Peter was thinking of doing, Tony's knee-jerk reaction was to say no. But then he thought about it and sighed.

A heavy sigh.

Not because he was worried, or because he thought it was a bad idea, no, Tony was apprehensive because it would work. Like, it really would. And Tony knew that the only way it would, was if he helped.

And then he sighed again.

Despite this, Tony agreed to help because he thought he should. He thought Peter was on to something and he really needed a reason not to be mad at him anymore. Nearly everyone had gotten over Peter’s idiocy, if only because MJ did, and had moved past it. Tony tried to, but he couldn’t because Peter kept looking at MJ like the sun and the moon shone out of her eyes.

It was disgusting.

And endearing.

But mainly the first one.

The only problem with this staring was that Peter seemed unaware he was doing it. He had convinced himself that he liked Gwen and not MJ and now, refused to admit that he was being dumb.

Okay, okay, he used to refuse to admit that he was being dumb.

Because this was the whole reason of the plan. After an eye-opening conversation with literally ever woman in Peter’s life (Pepper, May, Nat, Wanda, Laura, Shuri, Hope, Jane, Darcy, Carol, Valkyrie, Okoye, Christine, hell, even those Guardians touched down on Earth for a while to give him advice), he spoke with Gwen who, surprisingly wasn’t upset at all. No, no, she was not. In fact, she came up with most of the logistics of the plan. Tony actually took a liking to her eventually. After he got past the fact that Peter claimed to like her, she turned out to be a really nice girl, and if MJ didn’t exist, he wouldn’t mind Peter dating her.

But, MJ did exist and now Tony had been tasked with the impossible feat of getting MJ to the tower. It was impossible because no one — not even Pepper on a bad day — could get her to do something she didn’t want to do. And since it was seven o’clock on a Thursday night, Tony knew she wouldn’t want to leave her bed.

Emmjaaay

Emmmjaaayyy, hurry up and get to the tower!

It’s an emergency!

Ned’s in trouble!! Come nowww!!!ii

Emmjaay

[video attached] he looks fine to me

TonyMan

Uhh...

Emmjaaay

also you text like a child

also also im curious as to why youd lie to get me out of bed on a thursday, so ill be there

tell the babysitter to pick me up

TonyMan

Auto-correct, MJ.

Please.

The video was a screen recording of a Snapchat Story Ned posted. It showed him, Sam and Thor sitting on pool chairs with sunglasses on, and the caption was literally, Living the trouble-free life.

Tony really needed to make sure he and Ned were on the same page before he did something.

He was surprised when MJ agreed to come over, but decided not to think too much about it and sent Happy to pick her up. He complied, grumpily, but complied nonetheless.

He told everyone of the success of his mission, but instead of being greeted with thankful hearts, everyone started running around trying to get everything in order, which just confused Tony because as far as he was concerned, the plan was just get MJ to the Tower so Peter could do whatever it was he was going to do. There was literally no reason for everyone to act like they were planning a wedding.

When MJ arrived, Peter took her up to the roof and everybody, like, everybody ran up to the common room and asked FRIDAY for the security footage on the roof with sound.

The Avengers and Avengers Children sat around and on the couch for a clear view of the holographic screen that was being projected up. They could see them standing on the roof. MJ, once again, was not wearing her own clothes and had put on a sweater she stole from Bruce and basketball shorts that could’ve either been Sam’s, Peter’s or Thor's. Her back was to Peter and Tony could feel how much he wanted to reach out and hug her.

“So, did you bring me out here to murder me or for the view?” MJ asked not turning back to look at Peter.

“Uh, yeah, it’s a killer view,” he responded, rubbing his neck sheepishly.

She turned to him slightly. “That was so achingly lame, my dad turned over groaning in his grave.”

He chuckled nervously. “Peter Parker: Dad Joke Extraordinaire,” he tipped an imaginary hat.

She held his gaze for a few seconds, before looking away. “Idiot.” Peter just smiled at her back and looked at for far longer than what was deemed ’friendly’.

“Oh, god,” Sam groaned.

“This is gonna take way longer if he keeps doing that,” Bucky muttered, rubbing his beard in frustration.

They stopped their mutterings when Peter spoke. “I am. An idiot. I am an idiot.” MJ gave him the slightest of gazes, before training her eyes on the skyline in front of her. “A huge one,” he went on, “for not telling you I love you too.”

The eyes of the Avengers widened and Thor choked on his Pop Tart. Tony remembered that they never really got an explanation for MJ's behavior all those weeks ago and this is the first time they’re hearing this.

“I'm sorry, but when did MJ tell him that she loves him? How did I miss this? Why did no one tell me this?” Wanda was rambling at this point and no one shushed her because she was voicing their thoughts. As if she had a revelation, she gasped and said, “Was it that night MJ — ?”

“ — Shh!” Natasha said, as MJ started speaking.

“Yeah, you did. Remember, when you then proceeded to ask Gwen out?” Peter gulped at the memory.

“Excuse me, what?” Steve asked the screen. The common room erupted in noise as everyone started yelling about how they needed to know things like these. Tony looked over at Gwen who was sitting on the floor and saw Ned put a reassuring arm on her shoulders.

Peter took a breath. “That’s what makes me an idiot. I should’ve told you before. Like, two-years-ago before. Because I’ve loved you for, like, ever, but me, being the idiot I am, didn’t realise it.

“I knew I liked you, but when Gwen came and I liked her, I thought that meant I liked her more, I guess. But, that night outside my room, I fell in love with you all over again, because you continued to put what you thought was what I wanted as your top priority. Even if it was hurting you.” Peter took a breath. The whole common room was on the edge of their seats and Tony was pretty sure that Bucky had gotten FRIDAY to Skype it to Wakanda where Shuri and her brother were no doubt watching.

“The past few weeks have sucked so much because I realised just how much I adored you. Like, sometimes it gets physically painful to breathe whenever I think about you and Tony has told me so many times how disgusting it is when I look at you like you’re the only person in the world. And I’m trying, MJ, but, honestly, I still haven’t figured out how sit across from you and not be madly in love you with everything you do.

“This is more an apology than anything else, because I hurt you and I was an idiot and you deserve better than that.”

“…I taught him that,” Sam said after a moment or two of utter silence in the common room.

“Shut. Up,” Clint said hitting him in the head.

“If that is true, Son of Wil, you did a mighty excellent job at teaching the Man of Spiders how to woo the ladies,” Thor said.

MJ looked at him for the first since his speech. “Now what?” Peter looked stunned. “I’m not about to jump into your arms because you said all that, because that’s some dumb, cliché romcom BS and I ain’t about that.”

“Yes, girl!” Shuri yelled from the other end of the call.

“And you hurt me. Like, a lot. Like, I was pretty sure that at some point, Scott was gonna kill you. But, I’m not going to stand here and say that I don’t love you either, because I’m not a liar. I do love you. But, I hate you too. So, this…thing, it’s moving at my pace, how I say it will, got that?”

Peter nodded mutely, a large grin slowly gracing his features. “You see all that cute poetry junk you just spewed a moment ago? Yeah, you should stop that. I might actually end up liking you.”

Peter grinned evilly. “Oh? So I probably shouldn’t tell you that you’re the last thing I think of before I close my eyes?”

“Smooth,” Clint said, nodding slightly. Thor silently gave Sam a fist bump.

MJ's eyes crinkled and her mouth twitched ever so slightly, an almost smile. “No,” she said, “you shouldn’t 'cause that’s just creepy.”

“I love you,” Peter said breathlessly.

“It’s like you want me to break up with you.”

Peter shrugged. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into him. “I love you,” he said again with her face inches away from his.

“Stop.”

He shook his head. “Nope. You know why? Because I do. I love you.” He looked her in the eye before turning away and yelling into the night, “I love Michelle Jones!”

She punched him in the arm. “Don’t make me regret hugging you.”

“But you’re not — ”

He was silenced by her crashing into him and he stood stunned for less than a second, before he wrapped his arms around her and he settled his head in the crook of her neck due to the height difference.

“YES!” the common room erupted into cheers as everyone, everyone stood up in excitement. Scott called Hope and told her everything. Clint, followed his lead and phoned Laura to update her on the newest development. Hugs were given and tears were shed.

They all decided to stick around just in case something…interesting happened and so they remained in the common room.

Tony thought he’d hang onto his position in the Old People Teenager Watchers Committee just a little longer.

“How long do you think they’re gonna stay in the common room watching us before they realise that we’re trolling them and aren’t planning on leaving until they do?” MJ asked Peter as they remained hugging on the roof.

“Dunno. They like snooping. Probably waiting for us to kiss or something.”

MJ stayed silent. Then, “We should have sex. Give them something to watch, y'know?”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Wh-What?”

Tony jumped up and told FRIDAY to connect him to the roof speakers. “You two get off that roof right now, or so help me I will ban you from looking at each other. Get down. Now.”

The last thing he heard from the two was MJ's cackling as they got off the roof. And the cackling of his fellow teammates.

Never mind, Tony was resigning.

#avengers #marvel #peter parker #spiderman #michelle jones #ned leeds #spideychelle #iron man #tony stark #mcu #iron dad #spideyson #domestic!avengers

[imaginedolanscribbles]

Athazagoraphobia (n.): the fear of being forgotten

dad!Ethan

warnings: swearing, description of panic attacks, mentions of an accident, mentions of surgery, mentions of past character death, and memory loss -- this is basically pure angst you’ve been warned!

words: 5.388

summary: Ethan's daughter [7 year old] got in an accident and forgot who he was (requested by anon)

Gif by the lovely @grethandolana go check her out!

oooo

“Hello? Is this Mr Ethan Dolan speaking? It’s about your daughter - this is her school --”

Ethan knows he’s dramatic sometimes. Even after all these years he never really stopped being dramatic albeit he’s a lot better than back when he was a teenager (Gray disagrees but Ethan’s pretty sure that’s just because Gray likes to disagree with him, not because it’s rooted in any truth). So yeah, he’s dramatic and he still overreacts sometimes. This time though...

“Yeah, there was a scuffle among the kids - we’re still investigating how it started. Alice appears to have been pushed, somehow, and she fell and hit her head on the stairs --”

He’s staring at the vomit-green hospital floor under his shoes and he knows the teenage girl next to him is glaring at him because his leg is bouncing up and down and it’s shaking the entire bench but he can’t stop. His hands are a weird yellowish-white colour, they’re clutched together so tight and he can actually feel how sweaty and gross his palms are but he just can’t let go and wipe them on his jeans. He’s lucky he can even breathe with the incessant panic closing in on him like a vice with every passing second, a phantom-noose suffocating him slowly.

“-- well, she has not regained consciousness --”

Breathe. Just breathe, he reminds himself and it sounds like Gray’s voice in his head and maybe that’s why it helps a little. He scrunches his eyes shut and tries to tune out the conversation replaying on a loop in his mind.

“-- immediately called an ambulance, of course --”

Breathe. How can he, though? How can he if he doesn’t know if she still does?

The thought alone punches the remaining air out of his lungs and somehow he finds himself unable to take another breath for a few seconds.

“-- it’s about your daughter --”

Ten second.

“-- hit her head --”

Twenty.

“-- not regained consciousness --”

His vision is getting blurry.

Hey-hey! Breathe, you hear me? Fucking breathe already-

Those are Gray’s shoes pushing in between his knees and before Ethan’s oxygen-deprived brain can put together what their presence means, his hands are ripped apart and he’s shoved roughly back against the wall as Gray pushes his way right into Ethan’s space. Gray is here, he’s right here and all Ethan can do is stare up at him as waves of desperation roll over him, too big for even Gray to push back.

Why? Why her? How can this happen? This can’t be happening, not to an innocent child, right? Ethan wants to ask Gray what he thinks. Gray will know, Gray always has the answers – but he can’t even utter the question and honestly, right now it would be probably enough if Gray just slapped him and told him he was being dramatic again.

Because that would mean it’s not as bad as Ethan thinks.

It would mean it’s not as hopeless and horrible and so so fucking unfair as it feels.

But Gray doesn’t say anything. The familiar lines around his eyes barely visible, so far away is he from a smile. Instead, there’s a new line on his face, a deep, steep one right between his eyebrows and his eyes are darker than Ethan remembers them being. And then he pushes against Ethan’s chest roughly once more and Ethan sucks in a surprised breath. With the air everything comes rushing back.

Suddenly everything is too loud – he can hear the receptionist talking on the phone down the hallway; the wheels on the bed being pushed past them in a hurry are squeaking shrilly; the girl siting two seats away from Ethan is chewing the loudest, most disgusting gum he’s ever heard; and a door is thrown open so forcefully somewhere, that it bangs loudly against the wall and Ethan jumps.

“Sh, shhhh”, Gray says and his hands are a warm, familiar weight on Ethan’s shoulders. Ethan immediately focusses back on Gray, silently begging him to tune out everything else. “Hey. There you are.” Ethan’s breathing is still too quick, but at least he’s breathing.

Is she?

“Hey, no”, Gray says immediately when he hears Ethan’s breath hitch again and he crouches down so his face is level with Ethan’s. “It’s okay. You’re okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

Ethan feels himself nodding along frantically even though he knows Gray can’t possibly know that. But right now Gray is all he has and he’s gonna take anything that’ll keep him from drowning in the dark swirls in his mind, pulling him down and down and down.

“She’s gonna be fine”, Gray keeps talking and his smile doesn’t erase the deep line between his eyebrows but at least the fine lines around his eyes show up again and Ethan feels like he can breathe just a little easier. “Yeah, that’s it. She’s a fighter, you know that better than anyone. You hear me? Great- you’re doing great, E.”

Ethan realizes somewhere on the fringes on his mind that he’s holding onto Gray’s forearms way too tight, he can actually feel where his fingers are digging into Gray’s sweater and there are definitely gonna be bruises tomorrow from each finger trying to hook into Gray’s flesh but Gray doesn’t even wince. His hands are likewise wound around Ethan’s own forearms, holding onto him, strong and steady and all Ethan can see are Gray’s eyes and his mouth moving calmly. He could pick out those eyes in a crowd of millions, has seen them every day of his life.

They’re her eyes, too. A little more green than Ethan’s own, maybe because Gray is her uncle or maybe because her mother had the most beautiful green eyes Ethan has ever seen.

And now he doesn’t know if he’s ever going to see her eyes again.

“Gray...”, is all Ethan can muster and when his voice breaks through that one syllable, Gray’s entire face crumples in pain. He lets out a huge breath and leans his forehead against Ethan’s and for a moment they’re just breathing each other’s air.

“I know”, Gray mumbles. “I’m so- I’m so sorry, Ethan. This…I don’t know what to…” Gray takes an unsteady breath as he gives up on ending that sentence. “I’m sorry I took so long to get here. I took literally the first flight that went to California.”

“What time is it?”, Ethan croaks. Since he got that call from the school every second has been lasting a lifetime.

“Should be around eight-ish?”, Gray replies and sits back on his haunches, not letting go of Ethan’s forearms but giving him a little space now that it seems Ethan’s breathing isn’t about to give out any second. “Fuck man – how long have you been like this?”

Eight a.m. So it’s been almost twenty hours that this damned call has been echoing through his head, stuck on a loop.

And he still hasn’t seen her. He doesn’t even remember how he got here or when he called Gray, he just remembers arriving here and the lady telling him to wait, his daughter was being prepped for operation. What for? What exactly was this operation? Head injury. That’s all she told him.

Sometime later – Ethan doesn’t know when, it was still dark – a doctor rattled off a string of complicated, long-ass medical terms of which he understood something about a fractured skull and bruising or bleeding in a “sensitive area” of her brain (like, what does that even mean? All her areas are sensitive, damn it!). Then something about waiting if she woke up – if, if, not when she wakes up. That’s when Ethan lost it completely. He doesn’t know what he said but it was pretty bad and the doctor did not look impressed. She just waited for him to stop cursing at her and told him to wait for the nurse to tell him when it was okay for him to see his daughter.

“What if…Gray, what i-if she…?” Ethan can’t even finish the sentence, his voice trembling and Gray can’t look at him, just presses his lips into a thin line and shakes his head. “I can’t lose her, Gray. I can’t…not her, too.” Gray looks up at the bottomless emptiness in Ethan’s voice. It sounds eerily steady, though, when he repeats: “I don’t know how to survive that again.”

Gray has his mouth opened to reply when the door behind him swings open and Ethan is on his feet so quickly, his head spins and he remembers he hasn’t eaten anything since yesterday’s breakfast.

“You can come see her now”, the nurse says and Ethan is past her the next second.

“Is she awake?”, Gray asks behind Ethan but Ethan can’t focus on that. The room is dimly lit, the first rays of sunlight are spilling onto the foot of her bed and – there she is. Her head is wrapped in thick bandages and he face is pale, even against the white of the duvet, pillow and bandage, and has she always been this small? She’s positively tiny in the huge hospital bed, her back propped up a little against some pillows and her arms laying parallel to her body on the duvet with one of those plastic hospital-bracelets around her right wrist, an IV on her left. She’s out like a light, otherwise she’d be crying about the needle – she’s dramatic like him in that way, he knows, and the smallest, most painful smile forces its way onto his face – but she’s breathing calmly, evenly as the monitor next to her emits rhythmic blips that seem disconcertingly small, even for a seven-year-old.

“There’s a considerable chance the injury will cause changes in her behaviour, should she wake up, Mr. Dolan”, the nurse says and even though she says it softly, it still feels like a solid hammer being swung right into his chest. He closes his eyes to calm down and he blindly reaches out to touch Alice’ small hand. It’s limp and too cold but he holds onto it like he can keep her here with him by sheer force of will. He has to.

“What do you mean, ‘changes’?”, Gray asks and Ethan is torn between thankfulness for Gray to be asking these questions, and pure apprehension to hear the actual answer.

“Well, she might’ve lost the ability to speak indefinitely and might have to relearn speaking. She might have reduced ability of sight, memory loss, restricted range of movement – especially with fine-motor skills…” Ethan tunes her out when he can feel his breathing start to get shallow again.

When he opens his eyes again the nurse is gone and Gray is sitting on Alice’ other side, gesturing to the chair behind Ethan to sit down. He does. And then they don’t say anything for awhile.

 oooo

 Ethan doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes up to the smell of coffee and when he opens his eyes he looks directly at his own hands clutched around Alice’ tiny one. Her fingers are so small, he feels like they’ve barely grown since the day she was born, although rationally he knows they must have. A stab of pain flashes through him at the memory of what happened and he sits up slowly.

Gray is sitting where he sat before Ethan fell asleep, but now there’s a tray next to him with two cups of coffee and wrapped sandwiches. He’s chewing one and sends Ethan a tired smile when he sees him staring. He’s typing something on his phone, probably texting Callie and keeping her updated. She absolutely adores Alice, she probably would’ve flown down with Gray if it weren’t for little Noah.

“Here”, Gray says and holds out one of the coffees. It’s not steaming anymore but when Ethan wraps his hand around it, it’s still warm. Mechanically, he takes a sip without taking his eyes off Alice’ face and it doesn’t taste like anything, just lukewarm liquid pouring down his throat.

“You gotta eat, too”, Gray says after a moment.

Ethan throws him a look but Gray just shrugs. “You’ve been out for hours and I’m pretty sure you haven’t eaten for, what, two days now? You have to eat something.”

“Gray”, Ethan protests. His stomach is queasy, he really doesn’t feel like eating – not right next to his unconscious daughter. Gray’s face softens when Ethan throws him a pleading look.

“I’m not saying you have to enjoy it, E”, Gray says softly. “Just…you gotta eat, so you can be all there when she wakes up, yeah? She needs her daddy, not a starving mess. Okay?”

Ethan relents. “Okay”, he mumbles and takes the sandwich from Gray’s hand.

They stay with Alice until the sunlight has faded away entirely and a nurse kicks them out. Ethan would’ve fought him but Gray managed to calm him down and leads them to the motel across the street, where he’s rented a room.

 oooo

 Hours later, a phone call has Ethan awake within seconds. He’d dozed off and now the first sunlight is starting to filter through the shitty curtains. I can’t be later than six a.m.

“Yeah?”, he breathes frantically, pressing his phone to his ear. He doesn’t let them finish, as soon as he hears ‘awake’ he bites out “on my way” and throws the phone away to get back into his jeans.

Gray already has his pants on and is rubbing over his face, hiding the biggest yawn behind his hand. His hair is a mess and he’s pulling on his sweater backwards and for a moment Ethan is overcome with pure gratefulness – for Gray, for being here, being there for him, all of it. Gray doesn’t ask any questions, doesn’t complain, just gets dressed to follow Ethan back to the hospital like a reassuring, comforting shadow ready to catch him if he falls.

The closer he gets to Alice’ room the more he rushes until he’s basically sprinting, Gray close behind. There’s a nurse leaving the room and she starts saying something to him but he squeezes past her, maybe Gray will listen to her. And then she’s there. Sitting up in bed. She’s playing with her fingers and  sitting up and her eyes…her eyes are open and wide and they look directly at him as he stumbles into the room.

There’s a broken sound coming out of him, a laugh, a sob, Ethan doesn’t know, he doesn’t care. He doesn’t make it to the bed, he falls to his knees beside it, his arms thrown around her middle and he’s careful not to jostle her, he is, but his vision is blurry and suddenly there are hot tracks of tears falling down his face.

Ethan doesn’t even wipe at his face, he can feel his arms shaking as he tries to hold onto her small body without hurting her. The pure relief flooding his veins feels far more violent than it should, he feels about ready to pass out. Breathing shakily he presses his face to the duvet and tries to blink the tears from his eyes as he takes in that she’s here, she’ breathing, she’s alive, she’s…she’s here.

There’s a small hand touching his shoulder tentatively, patting lightly as though trying to comfort him and he can feel the smile spreading over his face. She’s lying in a hospital bed, people cutting open her skull and messing with her brains not 24 hours ago but here she is attempting to comfort him.

“Always such a trooper”, he can hear Gray say from behind him and Ethan just wants to hug the whole world right now, he couldn’t be happier.

“Why is the man sad?”, asks a little voice and Ethan freezes. He lifts his head to look at her and Alice is there, it’s really Alice, and she’s looking at him openly and with that pout that means she’s confused. Her hand wanders from his shoulder to pull at his hair – a gesture of habit, she likes the way his curls spring back into place. He glances at the other nurse standing by the headboard watching them very closely.

“Are you okay, Mister?”, Alice says and takes her hand back to tangle them in her lap again. “Don’t be sad, you’re gonna be okay.”

Ethan’s mind is too blank to even come up with a question, he just stares at her as he slowly notices how she’s looking back at him: open and friendly. That’s it. That’s all there is. There’s no recognition in her eyes at all. His throat is too dry to swallow and he can’t move.

“W-what…?” He looks to the nurse and back at Alice. The nurse watches them with something way too close to pity in her eyes. She bows down to Alice’ eyelevel and starts talking to her in that voice, adults always use when talking to small children that are not their own.

“Sweetie, can you tell me your name?”

Alice nods and her forehead furrows a little. “I’m Alice.”

“That’s a great name, Alice”, the nurse praises with a wide smile. “And do you know how old you are?”

“I’m seven years old!”, Alice proclaims proudly and holds up eight fingers. Ethan doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry.

“Do you have a pet, Alice?”

Alice shakes her head. “I really want a dog but uncle Grayson is allergic and daddy says, he won’t be able to come visit us if we get one.” She glances at Gray while she says it.

The nurse looks at him, too. “Is that your uncle Grayson, Alice? Do you know him?”

“Yes”, Alice nods. “Hello, uncle Grayson!”

“Hey, little one”, Gray replies and slowly walks around the bed, seemingly hesitant to touch her as though she might break. She waves at him with a smile that looks so much like her mother’s, Ethan’s heart always breaks a little at the sight.

“My head hurts”, Alice pouts and looks up at Gray questioning. “When’s daddy coming to pick me up?”

There’s a pause and Gray’s eyes jump to Ethan and back to Alice. “Uhm. He’s…he’s right here, sweetie. That’s Ethan. That’s your daddy.”

Alice frowns and looks at Ethan again, who’s still kneeling on the floor. Before she opens her mouth, he already knows. There’s no trace of recollection, no recognition at all in her eyes when she looks at him. He’s a complete stranger to her. “Don’t be silly, uncle Grayson”, she laughs after a moment and rolls her eyes. “That’s not daddy. I can tell!”

“So, you don’t remember this man, Alice?”, the nurse asks softly and prompts Alice to look at Ethan again.

Every second she spends searching his face for some form of familiarity, a spark of memory, an emotion to connect to, anything, feels like slowly peeling off his skin. “No. Why is he so sad, though?”

Ethan swallows and manages a smile as he sits back on his haunches and wipes at his wet face. It’s almost physically painful to put distance between them. “I’m not sad, bug. I...thought I’d lost my daughter, you know? But she woke up, after all, so you see, I’m actually very happy.”

“Oh.” Alice thinks for a minute. “That’s okay then. Just make sure to never lose your daughter again, okay Mister? Then you won’t be sad ever again.”

Ethan nods slowly. “I won’t. I promise.”

 oooo

 As it turns out, Alice remembers mostly everything, aside from how she hurt her head (not surprising and honestly a little relieving, too) and a few minor things like the name of the road she lives on, a few of her classmates’ names, the colour of her bedspread, her favourite stuffed animal. And Ethan. She doesn’t recognize his face but she does remember her daddy, which is actually more painful. Every time she asks for him, his heart constricts and by the fifth time he has to leave the room his hands are shaking so much.

The nurses ask her what her daddy looks like and she describes him with the patchy beard he’d worn until two weeks before the accident. She describes his hair being shorter and his eyes darker. When the nurse suggests her daddy might look like Grayson, Alice snorts and shakes her head. It’s not really surprising, after all, she’s never seen the resemblance between them, which Cameron had found hilarious. Alice keeps looking at Ethan contemplating and proceeds to describe how he looks all wrong and not like her daddy at all “…even though he’s a little similar, I guess.”

The doctor tells them memory loss wasn’t unexpected and to keep trying to help her remember. Regaining memory, especially within the first weeks after the waking up, is not unheard of. So Ethan goes to cut his hair shorter and lets his beard grow out. Alice doesn’t even seem to notice.

By the time she is released, they’ve decided for her to stay with Gray for a while, since she remembers and is comfortable with him. She seems to have decided not to question Ethan hanging around and talks about (and to) him like he’s simply a close friend of her uncle Grayson who just happens to have the same first name as her lost daddy. Although it rips his heart open every time anew, he’s just too thankful for her even waking up to despair completely. He can do this, he can live with this pain if it means he can still have her around.

Gray doesn’t understand him and once Callie hears Alice asking Gray for her daddy with Ethan right beside them, Callie doesn’t either. They keep pushing him to play games with her they used to play when she was younger and keep comparing him to “Alice’ daddy”, emphasizing how they’re the same. Ethan tucks her into bed every night for a month, reads her books and even sings her lullabies.

But she doesn’t remember.

And after almost two months of this Ethan has pretty much given up, has made peace with her just seeing him as a family friend. It hurts hearing her talk about him and then it hurts even more when she eventually stops asking for him. Ethan wants to shout and scream and kick at something, anything, and crawl in on himself at the same time. But she’s alive. She’s talking and walking and even though her handwriting was worryingly shaky the first few days, even that got better.

She’s perfect and alive and he can live in a world where she’ll grow old. He promised her he was never going to lose her again, and he intends to keep that promise no matter how many times she may break his heart. He just hopes Gray’s and Callie’s pitiful glances will stop eventually.

 oooo

 “Why doesn’t daddy love me?”

That’s what makes Ethan halt in the doorway, book in hand to read Alice her story.

“Oh, he loves you very much”, Gray replies and Ethan can hear the strain in his voice so clearly, Alice can probably hear it too. “Why would you say that?”

“He never came looking for me”, Alice mumbles. “He left me. Just like mommy. Daddy isn’t dead, too, is he?”

“Oh God, no”, Gray assures her, horrified. “No, sweetie, he’s alive. And he loves you so very much, I know it.”

“He would’ve come for me by now, if he did”, Alice insists and now her voice is quivering. “He hates me now, because I hurt my head and the hospital was probably crazy expensive and that’s not what daddy works so hard for.”

Something inside Ethan just breaks and he has to…has to…It’s just too much, he can feel the scream building up inside and so he just runs. Callie calls something after him as he runs out of the house but he doesn’t understand what she’s saying. He just runs,

Feet hitting the cold, hard asphalt is a strangely hypnotizing feeling and Ethan isn’t sure how long he’s been running or where to. With every step he can hear it echoing in his head – I’m right here, I’m right here, I’m here! But he doesn’t shout it, doesn’t say it. It’s no use.

After Alice’ mother died he couldn’t stay in New Jersey and so they’d moved to the north of California. But Gray had stayed, New Jersey was still his home, and so now Ethan is back here – back in Jersey, once again unable to stop whom he loves most from hurting.

He keeps on running until there’s headlights coming up behind him and then Gray rolls the passenger’s side window down, driving alongside Ethan running.

“You ready to come home, yet?”

Ethan can feel his legs shaking and he’s probably lucky it’s not raining, otherwise he’d probably catch hypothermia or something. Gray isn’t driving very fast, Ethan’s running isn’t much more than jogging anymore, anyway.

“E?”

Ethan takes a shaky breath and he realizes he’s still holding the book he was supposed to read to his daughter. He stares at it for a moment and almost stumbles. Wordlessly he climbs into Gray’s car, tired and so full of helpless pain and frustration and anger and hurt, he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“I’m here, Gray”, finally breaks out of him and he probably sounds like a crazy person, but his voice is breaking and he doesn’t know if he wants to cry or just sleep and forget everything for a minute. “I’m just…I’m here, I am. I’m right here.”

Maybe twin-telepathy is a thing after all because when Gray looks at him, Ethan knows he understands what Ethan means. Gray grabs Ethan’s shoulder and holds onto him like a warm, solid anchor.

“I know, Ethan. I know.”

 oooo

 Gray, Callie and Noah are out and Ethan is sitting on their veranda reading a book in the sun, when he hears her crying. Alarmed, he jumps up and whips his head around in search for her. She’s holding a hand to her face as she comes stumbling through the backyard and he’s on her in a second.

“What happened, bug? Are you okay?” He wraps his arms around her and lifts her up, stroking the back of her head calmingly where her hair is starting to grow back, as she sniffles into his neck. “Sh-shhh. Are you hurt?”

“The cat scratched me”, she hiccups as he carries her into the house and sets her down on the kitchen-island. “I just wanted to pet her and she was really small and cute and so I pet her and that was okay.”

He comes back with the first-aid-kit and gently pulls her hand away from her face. On her right cheek, just by her jaw, there are three tiny scratches. They’re not bleeding badly and don’t seem deep, thankfully. They probably won’t even scar.

“And then I lied down beside her and I kept petting her and that was okay until suddenly she scratched me.”

“Well, could she have been scared or surprised by anything?”, Ethan asks while tending to her face.

Alice pulls up her nose and shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe. I think there was a car honking.”

“Okay, well maybe that was it. She just got scared”, Ethan nods and holds up plasters in front of her. “Which one do you want?”

“Dinosaurs”, Alice mumbles and so she gets the green dinosaur-plaster.

“There. All better”, Ethan proclaims and strokes her hair but Alice is quiet and doesn’t meet his eyes. “What’s wrong, bug? Something else hurt?”

She shakes her head and looks up at him with big sad eyes, still shiny with tears. “Am I still pretty? Daddy always used to say I was the prettiest girl in the world.”

Ethan swallows around the lump in his throat. This will probably never get easier. “Of course.” He bends down and holds her small face in both of his palms, thumbs stroking over her cheeks – one with a plaster, one without. “Just as pretty as your mom.”

Alice sniffles but smiles through the tears nonetheless. “You have a picture of her?”

Ethan nods and pulls out his wallet, thumbing through it in search for the photo. He’d had it printed after she’d died, because looking at her on a phone screen just didn’t feel right. “Here.”

Alice takes the picture and strokes it reverently. “Daddy used to have this picture, too”, she mumbles almost absentmindedly. “She’s the prettiest woman in the world, isn’t she?”

Ethan looks at the picture as she holds it up for him, waiting for confirmation. He nods and bops Alice’ nose. “One day you’re gonna be even prettier.”

“Even prettier?”, Alice gasps and looks back at the picture.

When he takes it back to put it in his wallet again there’s a soft “oh” that has him looking back up at her. Alice is looking at his wallet where he keeps the picture, but she isn’t looking at her mother’s photo. Instead her eyes are fixed on the picture underneath, her hand reaching out almost reflexively. Ethan hands it over wordlessly, too afraid to breathe as to not break the moment. His heart is thundering in his chest as he watches her.

It’s a picture of when Alice was three or four years old, a few months after her mother’s death, and Ethan was still grieving deeply. Alice is laughing brightly in the picture, her hands clutched around locks of Ethan’s hair where she’s sitting on his shoulders. The angle of the picture darkens the circle under his eyes even more but there’s a tired, incredibly soft smile playing on his lips even though Alice was pulling at his hair hard.

“Daddy.”

That’s all she says and she could just be talking about the picture, but somehow Ethan knows she’s not. Her eyes are impossibly wide as she slowly looks from the picture in her hand, the picture with his face on it, up to his actual face. One of her hands is clutched around the pendant on her neck, the other is shaking and crumpling the photo in her grip. And there are tears again, springing up in her eyes and spilling over, but they can’t cover up the realization written loud clear all over her face.

It feels like breaking through the water surface of deepest, darkes, coldest ocean in existence after being under water for months.

Ethan gasps for breath and he doesn’t dare say anything but when she reaches out he gathers her up in his arms without hesitation. He’s probably crushing her to his chest but he can’t loosen his grip, can’t let go of her, not when she’s crying “daddy, daddy, daddy” into his neck, sobs shaking her entire body.

That’s how Gray finds them hours later: curled up on the floor by the kitchen island. Alice clutching Ethan’s sweater with tear streaks on her face and fast asleep, completely exhausted, and Ethan holding her and stroking her back, rocking them back and forth and dropping kisses wherever he can reach as he tells her how much he loves her, promising to never let her go ever again.

“She remembered”, Gray says and Ethan smiles tiredly. “How?”

Ethan shakes his head. “I’m not sure. We looked at pictures together before and nothing happened, right? She just...I don’t know, she looked at this picture and I guess she saw the necklace?”

Gray looks at the picture lying crumpled beside them where Alice dropped it. Around Ethan’s neck is the pendant Alice’ mother used to wear all the time: a little green elephant. Ethan wore it after she’d passed away and when Alice had asked about it, he’d handed it over to her as her special gift from mom, to always remember her by. The necklace broke after a while but they strung the pendant on a new one and Alice has never taken it off ever since.

“I don’t know why...or how...suddenly she could make the connection that that’s me on the photo. Not just ‘her daddy’ but me.”

“It’s a good picture”, Gray smiles softly looking at their happy faces, even in the face of tragedy.

Ethan barks out a laugh. “It’s a fucking miracle, is what it is.”

a/n: the entire definition of Athazagoraphobia is “the fear of being forgotten, ignored or replaced”. When I looked it up there were some sources that said it’s an actual mental health condition and a lot of sources saying it is not – in any case, I’m not trying to portray Ethan as having this disorder, I just loved the complicated word. Just an fyi :)

My Masterlist

#dolan twins #dolan twins imagine #ethan dolan #grayson dolan #ethan dolan imagine #grayson dolan imagine #daddy ethan #angst #Athazagoraphobia #accident #memory loss #ethans daughter #hurt #lots of angst #happy ending #my fic #my imagine #one shot

[shawnmend-yes]

I know you know it

Exams were just around the corner and needless to say you were practically a ball of frayed nerves ready to catch alight at any given moment. Anything could set you off, when you became stressed you tended to verge towards extremes. Whether it was laughing to the point you wet yourself or crying over a misspelt word on a revision card. The revision cards you had brought the second week of term, but did you start revising then? Of course not and my god were you paying for it now.

Sitting up to the countertop of your small student flat was a nightmare, the harder you tried to focus the more distracted you became. You couldn’t help but listen to the click of the clock and count down how many hours you could theoretically do that night if you focused right now. An old habit you developed on the sleepless nights, thinking about how much sleep you could get if you just dropped off right that second, which of course only ever stressed you out more over how little time you had left.

You groan as you flick to the next card to be met with yet another in the hundreds of case studies that you had to remember. If you even wanted a chance at passing this year.

“Want me to test you again?” Shawn asks, glancing over at you from his spot on the sofa. You’d almost forgotten he was there. You told him it wouldn’t be worth coming over today, even your roommate knew to escape when you got like this but he had insisted and for the most part he barely said a word. Only stopping to make you a fresh drink or toss a few words of encouragement into the mix when you got really desperate.

You scowl as you take another sip from your water bottle. “Nope.” He doesn’t reply to your snappy tone, instead just pausing the show he was watching and crossing the space to meet you. “Nothings working, ive tried everything shawn. Everything.” You mutter, chewing the inside of your cheek and rubbing your eyes.

“Its okay, maybe you just need a rest.” He says softly, but quickly raising his hands in surrender when he meets your eye. “Or we can try something else…”

“Ive done flashcards, posters, essays, videos, quizzes, tests,” you state, ticking them off on your fingers as your voice raises with each admission, until you bury your head in your hands. “Theres nothing else I can do.” You let him rub soothing circles into your palm with his thumb for a few moments before shaking him off and picking up your cards again.

“Whats the chorus of queen?” He blurts, swiping your bottle off the counter and padding to the kitchen to refill it from the taps.

“who crowned you queen of, you think your too cool, making beautiful look ugly” you reply automatically, shooting him a confused look as you try to make the sentence in front of you stick.

You can see the wheels of his head turning as he played the song through in his head, a smile toying with the corner of his mouth when he realised you had got them spot on. “And the first line of like to be you?”

“Shawn, I really need to get this work done.” You reply turning your full attention back to the traffic light beacon card, seriously you needed to rethink the colour schemes on this one. It could probably be seen from space.

He covers the top of your notecard with his fingertips preventing you from reading the majority of information, “Come on- please?” he pleads, holding your gaze with excited eyes.

“Don’t cry or do, whatever makes you comfortable.”  You sigh, tilting the cards out from under his grasp and pulling them closer towards you.

“okay and-“

“NO shawn, I will literally rip my eyeballs out my skull and throw them at you. I NEED to learn this. Please” you interrupt only half joking, because at least if you didn’t have eyeballs anymore you wouldn’t have to take this stupid test.

“wait, just, trust me, whats the last line of nervous?” He pleads, reaching across to grab your hand, which your quick to withdraw. “I know you know it” he smirks, “come on. Tell me.” He mumurs, a challenge gleaming in his eye as he leans forward and pokes you gently in the cheek as if he could force the words out of your mouth or at least get you to crack a smile.

“I don’t have time to stroke your ego okay?” you scream at him, causing him to recoil away from you. “If your not going to help then just fucking leave.” You watch the shock run across his face, lips parting as he sucks in a breath but you maintain eye contact. Part of you immediately wants to take it back, to lean forward and promise you didn’t mean it. But instead your eyes follow him to the door, and continue to stare at the now empty corridor outside it. Empty as your brain.

You don’t so much as hear the bang of the door swinging shut as feel it, a jolt in your bones bringing you back to the moment. You give yourself a moment to process what happened before you begin to reason with yourself. The Yerkes Dobson curve showed that moderate levels of anxiety can help with your memory, and while you felt guilty for thinking it you were gripping to that excuse as tightly as you could. Wrapping it around yourself like a security net, because not only did it prove that you knew at least one thing for your psychology test in a few days but it also gave you an excuse to not chase after him.

You twist yourself back round to the notecards lying in front of you, blinking as the words begin to crawl across the page to form undistinguished squiggles. After a few minutes of staring blankly at the same green notecard you throw it across the room. Pavlov was an asshole anyway, you didn’t want to remember someone like him. Slouching down you press your forehead to the table and imagine your body absorbing the cold into your blood as it pumps around your body. The feeling relaxes areas of your brain that you weren’t even aware you had and you can feel the tightness behind your eyes begin to fade.

The moment is interrupted too soon by a soft thud, which you assume is the door. You weren’t expecting anyone, your roommate was supposed to be staying at a friends for the night in an attempt to give you space to revise and shawn… well shawn had left. Part of you was curious but you couldn’t bring yourself to move from your spot on the table. Even if it was a murderer they wouldn’t have to wait long before you would drown in your own salty tears. Might as well let them get on with it. “If you’re going to kill me make it quick, least I wont have to do exams”

When no reply comes your curiosity is peaked, you tilt your head to the side to be met with a mildly amused shawn, pulling on the edge of the strap wrapped around his shoulder. He arches an eyebrow at you prompting you to explain your current situation. “Im absorbing the information” you mumble, face still pressed against the cool countertop as you listen to the padding of shawns socked feet coming towards you.

He doesn’t say anything, instead shifting the strap once again and pulling the attached object in front of him. “Brought my guitar.” He states, unzipping the case and placing it on the sofa across from you.

You watch him settle into the space and strum the guitar lightly, odd fragments of melody spilling from his mind as he checks the tuning of each string before hes satisfied. Your mind is grateful for the distraction as you follow the movement of his swallow tattoo, you could almost imagine it was flying gracefully across his hand to peck the strings with its beak in a series of fluid swoops back and forth. You open your mouth to protest when the sounds stop trinkling out as shawn sets the guitar at his side and propels himself over to you.

“ You’re doing it wrong,” he whispers, perching on the stool next to yours as you peel yourself off the table to look at him. “You’re trying so hard to be what everyone else is saying you should be that you’ve completely forgotten who you are. You’re the person who knows a lyric to fit every sentence, the missing words to every chord. You could recite most of my songs backwards in your sleep.” You squint at him, trying to decipher exactly what his point is.  “We just have to play to your strengths.”

“And how exactly are we going to do that?” you ask, rubbing the inner corners of your eyes with your pinky fingers in attempt to remove the sleep that you know must be hiding there, as shawn stands in front of you.

He grabs onto your hands, tugging you softly against him so he can drop a kiss onto the top of your forehead before leading you over to the sofa. “We’re gonna write a song.”

#Feedback is appreciated #largely unedited #shawn mendes #studying #shawn imagine #imagine #oneshot #shawn peter raul mendes #fanfic #shawn fanfic #shawn fluff #fluff #angst

[resilientreader]

1-98 for asks like we did a million years ago, I dare you

i knew the MOMENT i saw the notif in my inbox that it was gonna be YOU pulling this shit and i crossed my fingers when actually clicking, HOPING i wouldnt have to answer all 98, maybe you’ll be tame this time, but no! this is what you’re doing to me. and ykno what, Fine. u dare me and i Will do it. i hope u rb the asks post so i can do it to u too, tho

1. coffee mugs

2. chocolate bars

3. bubblegum

4. that smart student who always read instead of actually paying attention

5. soda from glass cups is the best

6. its hard to just Decide between all these styles so ill say which one applies to mine most, which i Gotta say has to b preppy even if i want like goth or grunge to b mixed in

7. headphones

8. good omens, fmab, castlevania, uhhhh. those are just the ones ive watched so far this summer

9. my grandparents’ home. which is kinda weird but i have a lot of summer memories there

10. i sucked at like Everything in p.e., there Was no best

11. leftovers

12. i cant choose a favorite playlist?? /some/ of them, tho, are soar my ethereal heart, neither here nor there, mountainside storms, and sync of my heartbeat. so like any of my more recent ones

13. lanyard

14. i had to google a list for this bc honestly i always eat just chocolates but i like starburst

15. fahrenheit 451 was a rly fun read. ray bradbury’s writing gave me inspo for metaphors and writing and such and it was rly nice

16. sprawled across one of those comfy armchairs where i can swing my legs over one arm n lay my head on the other one

17. my black converse

18. cool temperature and rain without storms, or a cloudy day that lets me take a nice walk

19. on my side if i can but on my back otherwise

20. on my laptop, in google docs, to be more specific

21. winnie the pooh

22. idk?? i try not to look to just one person for a source of “this is how i should be”, so i guess,,,, a mix of family members and then a couple like more famous ppl??? which would basically consist of one of my aunts, my dad, and jenna marbles, to keep my Brain Process for role model stuff simplified

23. i dunno if any of the habits i have are strange?? i bounce my right leg and my right hand kinda. like. shakes when im nervous. i cant rly think of anything else i do tho i Know i probably have other habits

24. amethyst or pyrite

25. ur really just assuming my memory is good enough for this but if i had to say, it’d be any popular song from 2009 specifically

26. hide in my room with a fan and ac

27. read with a blanket wrapped around me or smth

28. atlas: six by sleeping at last, flaws by bastille, atlas: five by sleeping at last, she by dodie, and neptune by sleeping at last. there are probably more/better ones but those are the first ones i found

29. listen. be open with me. talk with me. not to sound like that person, but sharing ur life secrets is a rly big ice breaker for me because it helps let me know i can trust u. but also idk im a really awkward person and can accidentally distance myself from ppl so when ppl notice theres smth up w me or even do the bare minimum of doing Their part to maintain a friendship, that’s always rad as shit when idk how to communicate what i need

30. my room, my high school’s auditorium, the local barnes and noble

31. black boots, black jeans, any button-up shirt that’ll match that combination OR a really cool sweatshirt

32. im a bad bitch, you cant kill me. road work ahead? uh, i sure hope it does. it is wednesday, my dudes! welcome to chili’s. i love you, bitch, and i ain’t ever gonna stop loving you, bitch.

33. probably “omg” or “oh my god”

34. sc johnson. a family company.

35. i dont even have one but on a good night like 10-11

36. the troll face memes

37. suitcases feel much more organized

38. lemonade

39. lemon cake

40. ummmmm....one time a tech/theatre kid left a paint can sitting out in the open accidentally and a person took a shit in it or smth then knocked over the can, spilled a bunch of paint, and tried to clean it up w a broom and proceeded to like snap the broom in half. then they ran away to leave the kids to clean it up the next day. i wasnt actually there for that but ive heard the story firsthand enough times to Know

41. my dad

42. jacket pockets

43. hoodie is what i wear, tho everything else is Very Good

44. lavender

45. fantasy, my dudes

46. this set of pjs i got for xmas w a soft tshirt and matching baggy flannel pants

47. colby jack

48. uhhh a banana?? i could probably give a better answer if i was more

49. i dont rly live by a quote or saying, i just Go for it

50. my sister has probably done smth before to like Break me

51. everything ever but mostly myself

52. arial

53. uhhh...kinda worn? my nails aren’t doin so good and i have a couple scratches and stuff that Still havent healed after a few weeks

54. get a move on

55. the ugly duckling

56. tradition is kinda vague but i like that it became tradition for me and my siblings to go to my grandparents’ home every summer

57. i think im still overcoming like everything ive been faced with ever

58. writing? listening, helping, giving advice. idk tbh like talents who?

59. "jesus christ, my dude”

60. a fantasy/comedy, or at least if its gonna be fantasy with death and stuff, it should be dope as fuck

61. "isn’t vulnerability the opposite of being in control?” from a webcomic called aerial magic. super simple but the entire scene leading up to it,,,,,so good

62. umm fuck! i dont kno whether favs r usually ones that i relate to or ones that i wanna b like but??? keith from voltron, jirou from bnha, chromedome and/or rewind from transformers/mtmte, sypha from castlevania, and jayfeather from warriors

63. planetary (go!) by mcr, the seed by aurora, hayloft by mother mother, the cup/halloween blues from relient k, choke by i dont know how but they found me

64. coolmath was THE shit

65. yes! two on my leg from a surgery i had to get to realign my femur, bc i snapped the bone in half

66. lavender, snowdrops, hibiscus

67. i dont really have any, mostly bc i have a hard time attaching like. That sorta meaning to just random objects, but i do still have a small teddy bear stashed safely away in my room from when i was a little babee

68. pickle-flavored pringles. disgusting. would not recommend

69. lions’ roars can be heard up to 5 miles away from the original source

70. right handed

71. horizontal stripes, i guess? there’s not much wrong with them but i just Never wear them

72. math

73. i dont usually eat /weird/ flavor combos, even tho ill eat basically anything, but i like ketchup in mac and cheese sometimes. or fries in shakes. chicken and waffles. stuff like that

74. 11

75. idek honestly, my memory is too bad

76. hashbrowns

77. i dont kno a Lot of plants off the top of my head other than the Basic ones but literally any flower in a windowsill is like bone apple teeth in my mind

78. sushi from a grocery store. publix taught me that grocery stores can, in fact, be trusted when needed

79. my school id photo

80. earth tones

81. fireflies

82. pc

83. writing

84. talk radio is nostalgic but podcasts are always more entertaining to actually listen to

84. polly pocket

85. mythology with a dash of fairytales

86. cupcakes, because of my dog’s name

87. abandonment

88. to grow unbreakable attachments with everyone i care very deeply about and grow into an old age with them, or something

89. i feel like answering this question totally honestly would hurt ppl’s feelings, but also i literally could think of like 4 people to put down for this and i’m bad at deciding, esp w smth like this, so. not to b vague but These People kno who they are

90. becoming a part of a certain website with a bad crowd and managing to pick out the good apples in such a rotten batch

91. boxes

92. lamps /and/ fairy lights

93. i dont rly have any but my parents call me hannah banana. that’s ab it, tho

94. fall/winter? it kinda is inconsistent because fall has bad weather in florida but winter is when like everything has Gone Wrong in life these past few years, but then fall has such a GOOD aesthetic and my birthday is in winter, so they’re pretty even rn

95. uhhh??? thats such a weird thing, to try and assign a “favorite” app, but the only thing i could think to say would be spotify just bc i use it so much on my phone, even if the app itself isnt the greatest

96. i havent set one, actually, bc im lazy and havent found anything that’d fit

97. 2 and a half

98. the part where fish were learning that they could walk on land

#asks #resilientspeaker #trying to put this under read more #but either tumblr doesnt let asks to do that or its not showing me anything #either way if this Does show to b a long post sorry ab that

[christyinchina-blog1]

China Keeps Testing Me

I know I made a decision to blog and that I’ve been very neglectful of that of late, but diving into a place like China… it leaves you a little preoccupied with what’s in front of you. I think maybe that’s been the biggest gift about this place, as well as perhaps it’s burden. I came to Beijing with a lot of weight on my shoulders. There were so many things about my life that were plaguing me, things I knew I couldn’t fix, but I knew I needed distance from. I think if I went anywhere else, I would still be preoccupied and trapped inside my own head, but not in Beijing.    

This city wakes you up. This city takes you into its dark heart, ruthlessly tests you, and then keeps you in its grip. When you stare true poverty in the face, walk among the ill-kept streets, and become accustomed to the rough nature of the city, you face so many challenges on the daily that the bullshit you brought with you in an emotional back pack end up falling straight off your back, and you just open your eyes and push forward because if you don’t, this city will wreck you without a shred of guilt.

I’ve loved my experience in Beijing, but the truth is, it’s been hard as hell. I’ve been tested more in these last three months than I ever have in my entire life. I want to tell people that this is a great experience and that they should do it, but I can’t. This is not for everyone. I you can’t go without, if you can’t take every day with a go-with-the-flow or whatever attitude, this place is not for you. China is a rough place for a spoiled foreigner. Everything is difficult. Everything is a challenge. The adventure isn’t in the sight-seeing, it’s in the getting by. It’s in the perilous navigation of everyday life.

I’m about three months into my time here. I spent the entire first month in training and finally got into my own classes in August. It was a tough month because I had to cover a lot of other people’s classes and my load was really intense for being new to the job, but I got by. I put my head down that month and really didn’t think about much, other than pushing forward.

I’ve been very fortunate to have met many good friends who helped me through the entry phase. If you ever come to Beijing, make friends. That’s the only way you survive. If you can’t ask for help, stay home. I’ve struggled with this because I like to be independent, but here you need help sometimes. Not speaking Chinese is a bitch. I’m trying to crash course learn, but it isn’t easy because, while Beijing is a Chinese city, there’s just enough English that you naturally use it as a crutch. I’m trying so hard to rid myself of that habit.

My experience here has been interrupted by an unexpected medical leave. I went to the doctor and was told I had a golf-ball sized cyst and that it had to come out immediately. Being my stubborn self, I tried to put it off, but I started having severe pain at work, so I knew it was time to bite the bullet and just go.

The problem with being sick in China is that scheduling procedures is a little tricky. I went around in circles with the insurance, hospital, and my own doctor until I just broke down and conscripted someone to make the appointment for me.

The Chines hospital, my friends, is not for the faint of heart. I went to the international department, the implication being that there would be English spoken, and yes there was, but not to the quality you’d like if you’re about to have an operation. There was so much me not knowing what the hell was going on. They made me do tons of tests, but they didn’t really tell me why. They didn’t tell me when I was having my operation. I just went where they led me, did what I was told, and wondered what the hell would happen next.

I wanted to get frustrated with the situation, but I just kept two things in mind. One: if I was back in America, there is no fucking way I could afford this operation. Two: I’m in China and I don’t speak their language. It’s my own fault that I’m having communication barriers. I can’t get mad because, unless I want to live in an aggressive state of denial. I knew what the hell I was getting myself into.

After a whole day of tests, they admitted me to the hospital, and I had no idea that I was being admitted. Somehow, I just ended up in a room with a band on my wrist (that said my name was Christ and not Christy. Hahaha!) and I was like… oh shit, what the hell is happening next?

The doctor comes in and insists that I am in a delicate condition and I can’t leave. Well, I hadn’t planned to stay, so I literally had nothing with me. They insisted I could not leave, so I had to argue with them that, fine I would stay if they insisted (not that it was at all necessary) but I needed to go home first. They decided to operate on me the next day, so I went home, got provisions, and came back.

I’ll spare everyone the details of the operation prep, because it was not pretty. If you want to know, just google laparoscopic cyst removal surgery, cause I am not about to write anything about that nasty bullshit. It was a pretty intense night, being alone in the hospital. I’m sure people would have come with me if I asked, but I hate making a fuss about things, and I just needed to be alone and figure it out.

The next day, I had the operation. I was so calm about it; I don’t even know how I did it. Everyone I tell about this freaks out when I say I was put under in China. I had a friend come with me because they won’t operate without someone else there. I told my friend to not let them pull the plug on me. She was impressed at how completely unaffected I seemed that I was about to get operated on. I haven’t lost my cool since I first got to China, and I promised myself that I was going to be strong after my first week. I kept my promise.

It was so weird because, rather than letting me walk to the operation room, they made me get on a bed, wrapped me up in blankets like a taco, and wheeled me across the hospital like I was a corpse. It was stupid in my opinion and everyone looked at me funny because I was a foreigner.

When I got to the operation room, it was kind of freaky because literally no one spoke a word of English. The anesthesiologist put the oxygen mask on me, but they didn’t have the oxygen on! So I was breathing nothing and tore it off. She, annoyed with me, shoved it back on me. Then, I guess she realized it wasn’t on, so she turned it on and I gasped for air, and I took this huge breath of straight inhalation anesthesia. I remember the sensation of my lungs burning as I was gone in a second.

When I woke up, I was coherent. I always come out of anesthesia so strong. I wasn’t groggy at all. I was complaining to the staff because they kept stabbing my artery for an oxygen sample. They missed 7 times, I am not kidding, before I screamed at them to leave me alone, because for the love of god, I can breathe. They gave me a shot of morphine to shut me up.

They had no idea what to do with me. All the other people in the recovery room were out and I was running my sassy mouth in broken Chinese. Eventually, they wheeled me back into the room. They had me hooked up to so many machines, it was so unnecessary. EKG, blood pressure, pulse checker, oxygen, some stuff I don’t understand, and an IV. I was stuck like that for 25 hours and I made it known that I was unhappy.

The hospital was so weird. The nurses always came to check on me in groups. Like, twelve nurses at a time! I have no idea why. They’d come take my temperature, then leave me with the thermometer for over an hour before they would take it. I literally have no idea why.

           I asked for some kind of pain medicine, because I had four incisions and could hardly move, but they were so insensitive. They wouldn’t even give me ibuprofen! Lucky I had some in my bag, but you’d think a hospital would be more sympathetic.

           I pressed the matter because I was seriously miserable and they got so fed up with me that a nurse came in and, without even asking me, just stabbed me in the leg with a shot of some painkiller. I helped for about 20 min before I finally got them to IV me some ibuprofen. Seriously! The Chinese hospital acts like no one has ever wanted pain medication before!

           I hated staying there. The staff was so profoundly unhelpful. I had to be proactive about insisting on getting food, else they’d have just let me starve to death. I stayed there two days and when it was done, I was so ready to leave.

           It’s not like it is back home. The doctor came in the day I was going to leave, literally tore my bandages off my incisions with so much force that I almost screamed, and then was like “go home and take a bath.” No after care instructions. No information on when to follow up. No notice of when I can go back to work. Nothing. So I just left. In an American hospital, they would have wheeled me out to a wheelchair and made sure someone took me home, I literally just got up and waddled out of the hospital, then hunted a cab down to take me home.

           My overall opinion of the hospital is that, if you need it, it isn’t awful, but do not expect any compassion and just suck it up, because it’s going to suck.

           I recovered well. I’ve been taking it easy the last week or so. Surgery in China is a bit of a mind fuck, but I think it’s given me some serious perspective on so many things. I just feel lucky, that’s all. Beijing might want me dead, but it’s been good to me. I would have probably had this cyst rupture if I was back home, because at least in China, you get tests back immediately, rather than having to go through our bullshit system where you have to wait weeks to interpret an ultrasound that can literally be read on the spot. If I’d had to wait that long, there is a serious chance that I would have had to deal with major internal bleeding. I really can’t complain about any of this, even though the whole thing was a complete cluster fuck.

           The really sad thing about this is that I had to come to China to get my health concerns addressed. Even with insurance, getting the appointments I needed were almost always damn near impossible back home. I can go see the doctor in such a timely manner here. It’s inexpensive. It’s usually decent care. Yeah, the hospital as a little shady, but my primary care is fantastic. What the hell is wrong with America that I feel more comfortable in a city that can’t figure out basic plumbing and electrical wiring getting my health addressed than I do back in the good old USA? These are the real questions.

           China has made me feel very fortunate. Whatever disdain I have for my current situation, it’s not nearly as bad as what the Chinese people deal with. I get exceptional coverage through my company, but the average Chinese person… I caught one glimpse of the Chinese side of the hospital when taking all my tests, and let’s just say it isn’t a place I will ever return to voluntarily.

           I’m one of the rich in this country, and I live like crap by American standards. This is the kind of perspective China has given me that I’m never going to lose. I just look at everything now and think: it’s really not that deep.

[b-o-s-t-o-n]

>>about me<<

hi my little fairy princes and princesses. i asked if i should make a small post to introduce myself and several people said yes so here it is:

first of all, my name is amelia. im from the east coast and im a 20 year old girl. i love makeup, hair, clothes, skin care products, bath bombs, and everything like that. if you ever want any advice or tips on that stuff please ask. i love helping people out with beauty stuff!!! i also love video games and sports, specifically hockey and soccer. but most importantly, i love criminal minds.

CM is my all-time fav show but i also like a lot of other ones. i do this weird thing where i watch all of my reality shows on time and live, but i wait for my non-reality shows to come out with a full season before i binge watch them.

the reason i started watching criminal minds was actually because i used to watch a random canadian show called “higher ground” that aj cook was in when she was younger. one day i was caught up on all my shows and i needed something new to watch  and i was like hey i really liked that girl why dont i see what else she’s in? so i googled her and CM popped up. and well, the rest is history.

here’s a list of some shows i watch: big brother, survivor, catfish, the real world, the challenge, are you the one, the bachelor/bachelor in paradise, bad girls club, prison break, dexter, greys anatomy, jane the virgin, quantico, shameless, game of thrones, stranger things, orange is the new black, new girl, skins, project runway, unbreakable kimmy schmidt, the walking dead, gossip girl, star crossed, 90210, hart of dixie, the 100, skam, american horror story, sense 8, chicago pd, chicago med, chicago fire, and a shit load of others that i cant think of right now.

besides tv, i really like music. ariana grande and dua lipa are my queens. i like a lot of different genres and artists and im always opened to suggestions if you ever have any. i played clarinet in high school and i play piano in my free time. i tried guitar but my hands are short and stubby so it didnt go so well.

i also swear a lot. i dont know why but i just do. even in my fics, i tend to swear way too much. it’s a bad habit that im trying to break. speaking of fics, this isnt my first fanfiction blog, but it’s the only one ive ever had that has popped off. im not a super great writer but i just like to do it and like creating little stories. 

so like i said, im 20, so im in college. i live alone in a little apartment and have a dog named ani (anakin). he’s my whole world. school sucks but i manage. im majoring in criminal justice so you can probably tell why i love CM so much.

i also love it a lot because spencer is my favorite fictional character ever. i literally love him so much i cant even put it into words. i always tell people my personality is more like matthew, but my ideal man is spencer. ((and my ideal pet is simon lmao)).

i dont really know what else to say because im pretty average and boring. im really sarcastic so if i ever offend you just know it probably wasnt on purpose. i have a weird sense of humor and i type really internet-ish. i love memes and i have a reaction pic for pretty much every situation. i always keyboard smash and i hate capital letters. the only time youll see proper grammar and punctuation from me is in my fics cause i know how hard it is to read a story if the format isnt organized.

my ao3 is the exact same username. sometimes mobile messes up my masterlist and its just easier to read my fics on there.

so to wrap things up here’s a picture of me. i might edit this later and remove the pic cause i dont like to have my face on the internet. i love you all more than spencer loves chocolate frosted donuts with sprinkles!

#about me

[alexrodriguespage]

Our Anasazi Experience Pt. 1: Ivie’s Interview

I have sat down countless times to write this blog post, and it was like my fingers just wouldnt work. I have had so many emails from parents that are worried and families that are in crisis that I know it’s time to share something. Even if we’re still close to it, even though we dont have a 20/20 perspective yet, and even though we are still very much finding our footing and working through stuff.

I know that this is a very public forum. Sharing this is something that we decided as a family. We arent putting our daughter “on blast”. She very bravely opened up about going to Anasazi before we even considered sharing it. I dont know about you but at 16 I was for sure not woke enough to know that sharing the hard thing I’m struggling with could lighten someone else’s burden. As a mother there is nothing in this world that I could be more proud of her for. 

This post like all of the posts we share about our story with addiction, is about hope. I mean, what’s the point of going through rough stuff if in the end it doesnt help anyone? Here is our experience. We hope with our whole hearts that it can help one of you! 

Our 16 yr old daughter was struggling. Without going into to too much detail (honestly it’s irrelevant now that we’ve experienced Anasazi) we were completely lost with how to help. For years we had tried all of the things that people suggested and it just wasnt helping her. Knowing what I know now, there was no way that she could change without our family changing as well, but that is what we kept trying to do. Change her, fix her. The reality is that our whole family was in crisis. We ALL needed to be changed.

I had some pretty inspired revelation that she needed to go to the Anasazi wilderness program. (You can read more about that here!)

The Anasazi Foundation is a non-profit wilderness therapy program for teens and adults. It is grounded in Native American traditions and outdoor survivalist methods. Anasazi has their own language for stuff, so as I use it I’ll make sure to clarify what it means! The YoungWalkers (as the kids are called) live in the wilds of Arizona for 7-8 weeks and it is one of the most inspired programs I have ever experienced. They are taken out of the world and given tools that help them see themselves differently. 

Those that have been following along for a while know that Court and I LOVE the LDS 12 Step program, I love Anasazi just as much. It is inspired and saved our family. In fact we love and believe in it so much that every single one of our kids will be going, whether they are struggling or not. 

The incredible thing about Anasazi is that it isnt just sending your kid off to get “fixed”. As parents and family members we are also doing really intense work. Even though we’re not physically walking like they are, we are walking in our hearts right along with them. They have a powerful workshop that you get to attend when you drop your Youngwalker off that changed my whole outlook on life. 

Anasazi believes that every child is good; that they have a Seed of Greatness. The Trailwalkers (the staff that lives and hikes with the Youngwalkers) are so positive. They understand the sacred responsibility that we as parents have trusted them with, and they love those kids hard. They magnify every good thing they see in that child in ways that only an outsider full of compassion and a deep desire for connection can. They see and focus on things that we as parents are missing in our every day frustrated interactions. They dont know anything about the Youngwalker’s past or situation, they go in completely open to learning about them and treating them with compassion and love. 

Each Youngwalker has a Shadow (Therapist) that they meet with once a week. The Shadow goes out on the trail and has sittings (sessions) with them. Court and I also met with him via phone once a week for a report on Ive and to help us with the things that we were working on. Shadow G is part of our family forever. We love him!!

Life on the Trail

I did a little interview with Ive about what life on the trail was like. I wanted to share it from her perspective. Because TBH if I just listed the facts of what they did and didnt have, and did and didnt do, its intense. But no one has died, so that’s good right?!

After some of her answers I chime in with a little more detail/clarity, these notes will start with an asterisk*.

If someone is sending or thinking about sending their child out on the trail, what do you want them to know about it?

Um, that it sucks at first but it gets easier. Ya, it pretty much just sucks (laughs) but it’s a really good experience and you wont regret going. Send them!

In the beginning, what was the hardest thing about being on the trail?

Not being able to see my family. Not knowing anyone in my band yet.

The band is group of people that you’re stuck with. (laughs) You have to learn to like them and work together. It was hard because you dont want to be stuck in a place where you dont like the people you are around cause that makes you unhappy and its unpleasant.

There are a lot of different personalities in the band. Some people I got along with really easily and some people were harder. I met my best friend when I first walked into the office. Meeting her was the best thing of my whole life. We left on the trail together and came home at the same time. If you are going out there I would try really hard to find a friend, because some people are weird. Parents, you’ll get the stories when they get home. That’s all I’m going to say. There are lots of different reasons that people go out on the trail. Some people didnt really have a huge reason, and some were using it like rehab, most of us were somewhere in the middle.

Being in the band taught me that we have the choice to learn to love people even though you want to punch them in the ass. (laughs)

*A band is what they call the group of kids, they keep boys and girls separate. The bands range in size but aren’t larger than 9 Youngwalkers. 

Tell me about the hiking.

It sucks. You hike almost every day for 2 months. But it feels so good when you get to your camp spot and you can take off your 50 pound pack and lay down…on rocks. (laughing) It’s fun when you have a friend. Hiking taught me to push through hard things. Cause when you wanted to give up you couldn’t, or else you wouldn’t get where you needed to go.

Tell me about the pack.

The pack is a pain, emotionally and physically. It’s really heavy and you have to learn to pack it. I’m making this whole experience sound really bad, IT’S GOOD I PROMISE. In my pack I had a sleeping bag, tarp, fire set, food pack, burrito, books, extra clothes, toiletries. It’s heavy as hell.

Ivie’s first week on the trail

*The pack has everything the YW needs for the week, it’s not a traditional hiking backpack like we are used to, they use the things in the pack to actually build it. Everything gets wrapped in the tarp and the straps of the pack are made out of the burrito (the burrito is a canvas cocoon with snaps, they can use it for a million different things!)

Tell me about the food.

It tastes um-not good at first, I’m like why am I eating rice? But by the end you are a gourmet chef. You get really creative with the food pack. I loved Beanie Mac, Ash Cakes with butter and brown sugar, Beans and Rice, Cheesy Beanie Rice and Cold Gold. 

*Having experienced Ivie’s cooking at Family Camp I can tell you that she did in fact become a chef. They can make anything out of the food pack ingredients if they put their mind to it! She said that they talked about food a lot on the trail, and she had a list of what she wanted to eat when she came home.

Tell me about making fire.

You make fire with a bow and spindle. Its really hard and frustrating. When you very first make the fire it’s like the coolest feeling in the world. Because you’re like damn I just did that. Once you learn how to you feel like a god! Cause you’re just making fire! And once you make it you dont want to stop. 

Tell me about your trail name

A trail name is a name given to you. It represents things that the Trailwalkers see in your personality or things that relate to you. Like an animal, or thing in nature. It speaks to you. I thought it was literally cool, like “Oh wow, you see that in me?” My trail name is Golden Warrior Butterfly. Golden means the I have an essence of light, Warrior means I’m loyal to my friends and family, and Butterfly means that I have the ability to change.

Tell me about the Trailwalkers

The Trailwalkers are really good people. They’re really nice and they treat you like you are their own and they care about you a lot. Some of them are really excited and happy, so you might want to prepare yourself for that. Most of them are really chill. They have different personalities and everyone finds somebody they connect with.

*The trailwalkers walk for a week with the band and then new trailwalkers come in, so the dynamic is always changing but is always full of love. We were able to talk to some of the trailwalkers when they came off after spending the week with Ive. You could feel how much they loved her and it was powerful to hear all of the wonderful things they said about her.

Tell me about your Shadow

Shadow G!! I love that guy. He was my best friend out there. We talked about everything, like, literally you could name anything and I’m positive that we talked about it. I miss him!

What was the hardest part about living on the trail?

Not being able to shower, not seeing my family, hiking everyday, sleeping on the ground and peeing my pants. That sucked really bad.

What was the funnest part about being on the trail?

When we had free days. That was the best! You just got to hang out with everyone and not hike. Cause like, when you’re hiking all the time you dont want to talk. Then youre out of breath and dont want to talk because you have to go slower or stop so you dont make it to your spot. When we had off days you could just sit and talk and get to know everyone.

Do you feel like the trail made you a different person?

Ya, I still pretty much act the same, not the bad stuff though. I dont do that anymore. It made me realize that I didnt need all that stuff I was doing before. It also make me realize that there were people I didnt need in my life. So when I got home I cut all of that stuff out. Oh and not depressed anymore! 

If someone has a kid that is struggling and they are worried that their kid will be mad if they go on the trail what would you tell them?

That the kid will probably be mad. (laughs) I’m not going to lie, there were a lot of people out there that were pissed at first. But if you can, don’t Goon them (Goon means you have a transport company pick them up without their knowledge and take them) It makes the kids more pissed and you’re stuck in the woods. I felt so bad for all the people that were taken like that. Tell them in advance that they are going so they can emotionally and mentally prepare. 

What advice would you have for kids who’s parents are sending them on the trail?

Suck it up because it’s going to be great. It sucks, it sucks so bad. But it’s worth it in the end. Power through!

What did you learn about yourself?

That I’m pretty cool and I’m a lot stronger than I thought I was. You learn a lot about yourself and how strong you are and who you want to become.

Are you glad that you went on the trail?

Yes. 

*Teenagers 🙄

How has it been since you’ve been home?

It’s been good. It’s a lot better than it was before. I mean, it is really hard coming home because you cant be around a lot of people, sound or light, I almost had a panic attack when I got home because my entire family was there and it was a lot of people. (laughs) Love you guys missed you, I promise!

How do you feel our family changed after Anasazi?

I feel like we understand each other more. We try to use our tools to get along and I dont know, it just made us all come together.

Isnt she the best?

This video of meeting her on the trail is the most special thing that I own and if it doesnt give you hope then I dont know what will!

              View this post on Instagram

                    WE GOT OUR GIRL BACK! I can’t wait to tell you all about it, but for the moment we’re soaking up all of her light! @iviegubler @anasazifoundation

A post shared by Mandi Gubler | Fearless DIYer (@vintagerevivals) on Nov 1, 2019 at 8:07pm PDT

  I thought instead of chiming in with all of my thoughts and making this already long post even longer, that I’d give you guys a change to ask some questions and do a follow up post. So feel free to leave them below! 

          The post Our Anasazi Experience Pt. 1: Ivie’s Interview appeared first on Vintage Revivals.

Our Anasazi Experience Pt. 1: Ivie’s Interview published first on https://vacuumpalguide.tumblr.com/

[writingsofthemoonchild]

Luna's POV

I woke up smiling for a change. Today is my birthday. I turned 12 at one in the morning. I stayed laying on the couch for a while thinking about the day and every possible thing that could happen but wont happen. The next thing I know a pillow is thrown at my face.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!" Devin shouts. I groan and roll over, nuzzling my face into my Ronnie Radke pillow.

"Come on! Your family will be here in an hour and i want to swim before the girls get here!" They whined shaking my shoulder.

"But i wanna sleeeep! Its my birthday let me sleep." I dragged out the 'e' in sleep like a child.

"No! Lets swim. That should wake you up."

"Ill only get up if my cousin Sev is will be here. Which he wont, cause he's in the UK."

"You never know, Darian." I snorted unladylike like. But who cares, Im never lady like.

"Saying he will be here is like saying Ronnie Radke or Motionless in White will show up." I rolled over and looked at my only friend seriously.

"Please Darian. Once the girls get here, we wont be able to swim just us two and we will be forced to play with them." I sighed looking at the ceiling . Tears threatened to show as i thought about my cousin Severus. He hasn't come to visit since i was 7. I missed him dearly.  The small cloak he got me when i was 5, is way too small. It hangs up on the corner of my mirror next to my signed Alternative press bag. The bag was signed by Nick Major when i met him.

I threw back my blanket and sat up. Devin grabbed their swim trunks and muscle tank before running into the bathroom. I stretched looking at one of my dogs.

"Teddy, why hasn't he come to visit? Did he forget about me? He hasn't even written or nothing!"  I leaned down and hugged the small furry animal. HE squirmed underneath my face trying to lick me. Laughing, i sat back up. My mom walked into the house from outside.

"Oh good your awake. If you want to swim before anyone gets here, get going. Make sure anything you don't want the girls messing with is hidden or put up." She said stirring something on the stove.

"What are we having?" I asked walking into the kitchen.

"beer brats and burgers." I nodded and walked back into the living room as Devin came out of the bathroom.

"Leggo Darian!" I smiled slightly before walking into the bathroom with my clothes. I quickly changed before walking outside. Devin was already in the pool, adjusting to the cold water.

"The water feels amazing. Its not cold at all!" Devin shouted to me. I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah right. We just filled it up two days ago." I set down my towel and glasses before throwing my black hair up into a bun.  I ave always wondered how i had been born with black hair. Whenever i asked my mom said she had deep brown almost black hair, like my dad's. But i wouldn't know if she is telling the truth or not cause she dyes it blondish brown. My older brother has light brown hair which raises my suspicions even more. I started up the pool ladder, watching my slight reflection in the water.

I have always felt like an outsider in my family. The only person i didn't feel like an outsider with is my cousin Sev. I was splashed out of my thoughts, literally, when Devin splashed me. I gasped at the cold water.

"Hey!" I splashed water back.

"You bitch!"

"I'm not a bitch. I'm a witch." I smirked at them as they glared.

"Shut up." Devin took a deep breath before going under. Letting my hair down, i decided to join them. I put the band around my wrist before breathing in. I jumped a bit, curling my feet in so i was sitting criss-cross. The cold water flushed against my skin as i sank.  The coldness licked my skin as i pushed my self back up. I gasped in air as i resurfaced.

"THAT'S FREEZING!" I shouted hugging myself. Devin laughed. We messed around, talked, thought of what we would do if a band walked into the yard. Soon we heard doors closing and little girl voices. I quickly got out and put all of the nice floaties, we didn't want to be popped, into the garage by my moms car. I quickly shut the door that led into that side, so if they did come in they couldn't see the floaties. My two twin cousins came running up to the gate in their swim suits.

"Darian! Devin!" they screeched. I smiled slightly. I got back into the pool as they came running in. They said hi to my mom before running over to the pool. Let the party begin.

An hour later, everyone arrived and food was just finishing when the gate opened. I ignored it not really paying attention. All of the adults stopped talking. They stared at the gate. Devin looked over confused.

"Darian, whose that?" I spun around. As my eyes focused on the person, i gasped.

"SEV!" I scream rushing out of the pool. He smiled at me. I ran over but stopped abruptly in front of him. I was soaking wet and didn't want to get his clothes wet from a hug. He rolled his eyes and pulled me into his chest. Automatically my arms went around him. I felt him nuzzle his nose into my hair.

"Ive missed you so so so so so so much, Sev. You have no clue. " I pressed my face into his chest. He kissed my head.

"Ive missed you so much, too. Im so sorry i didn't write to you. l have multiple letters explaining why i couldn't come visit again but all of them sucked. I thought you would hate me. But i have one letter, i wanted to personally deliver."

"Severus, no. Dan and I told you we didn't want her going." My mom said walking up behind me. I pulled away and looked at her confused.

"Going where?"

"Hogwarts. The school i teach at." My mouth dropped.

"WHY CANT I GO?"

"You don't need to go. We raised you as a muggle and you are going to say that way."

"What do you mean stay that way? Just because you raised me as a muggle doesn't mean i am one. I'm a witch! I should be able to learn about magic!" I said lowering my voice as i spoke. I was furious. Sev simply pulled out a letter from his cloak pocket. He handed it to me. I looked at the wax seal.

"Flip it around to find out more information." Sev said calmly. My moms eyes widened.

"Don't!"  I flipped it around quickly and turned around so she couldn't take it from me.

Miss. Luna Snape

The biggest room in her cousin's house

I stopped reading. Tears rushed to my eyes.

"What is the meaning of this? Who is Luna Snape?" I spoke loudly. Everyone stared. My mom, if she is even my mom, looked down.

"Darian, your real name is Luna Crow Snape. I am your biological father. When you were a baby, i had given you to Laura to raise as i was unable too. She is your cousin, not me." I stared at the both of them in shock. His words slowly digesting. As each second passed, more and more tears rose up and pooled in my eyes.

"is this true?" I whispered. Laura nodded. "WHY DID YOU CHANGE MY NAME AND NOT TELL ME SEVERUS, WAS MY FATHER?" Silence. "TELL ME please..." I lowered my voice at  the end.

"its not safe for you. We even almost didn't tell you that you are a witch. We hoped if you didn't know, you would stay here with us. You thought if you knew he was your father and knew you were a witch, you would want to go to the UK." Tears rolled down my face. I stared at the ground thinking. Silence consumed everyone once more.  My body shook as i tried to hold back a sob. I thought no one notice, but i was wrong. Sev walked over and engulfed me into a hug. I wrapped my arms around his neck and cried. I sobbed like a baby. He held me as i cried. No one spoke. The only thing you could hear was my sobs.

Now everything made sense. Why i had black hair. Why i felt to close to Sev and no one else in my family. Why i didn't look like my "parents". These thoughts running threw my head made me cry even harder. Severus bent down a bit and wrapped an arm around my thighs before lifting me up. I wrapped my legs around him so he could walk easier. He carried me into the house and to the living room. No one dared to follow. He sat down and put me on his lap.

"Shhh. Its okay. Let it all out." He soothed petting my hair. I gripped his shirt in my fists. After a few more minutes of crying, my sobs turned into hiccups. I sat back and wiped my eyes. Sev smiled small at me. I sniffled.

"Sorry for crying on you." I croaked.

"No worries."

"Do you regret giving me a way? Or are you happy you did?" i asked softly. He frowned.

"Look at it this way. If i would have kept you, you would have never had the memories you have. You never would have made the friends you have made. You would have been stuck with a stranger for most of the year while i was teaching. You wouldn't have had the life you have had. But yes, i deeply regret giving you a way. I cried every night after Laura took you." He moved a piece of hair behind my ear. "I have tried to get you back before. They refused. I tried to at least have them tell you everything but they wouldn't have it. I want to be able to spend more time with. Get to know more about you." I smiled at him before snuggling back into his chest. My head resting on his shoulder.

"I understand. I want to get to know you more also. You are the only person out of all of my family here, i feel i fit in with. I've felt like an outsider my entire life. The two events that you were at, are the only ones i felt that i felt like i belonged there." We sat in silence for a few moments, just bathing in the moment.

"We should head back outside." I nodded standing up. Sev stood up. I quickly hugged him. My father.

He quickly hugged me back. Then we headed back outside. Everyone stopped their conversations. Devin smiled sadly at me from inside the pool. I smiled widely back. They raised an eyebrow.

"Just it time. Food is finished." I ran down the stairs. All of the food was set up in the garage. I dragged my father into the garage and over to the food. I licked up lips, staring at all of the food. Sev handed me a plate. I thanked him as i grabbed it. We walked down the line piling our plates.

"Would you like ketchup on your hamburger?" I scrunched up my nose.

"Eww no"

"How about mustard?"

"Gross." I smiled up at my father. He smiled down at me. Quickly, i made a silly face, making him chuckle. We both ended up laughing.

#draco malfoy #harry potter #hermione granger #severus snape #ron weasley #albus dumbledore #daughter

[selfdiscovery4me-blog]

11-5-17(First Post)

I’m doing this instead of doing my pre-calc homework because i feel like that class dosnt matter and i don't really care idk its fucking stupid i hate that teacher but i feel like he just wants kids to like him. Ive been with my girlfriend all weekend(The thought just occurred to me as how to address these from what perspective and to who, my self or an audience im doing this for myself but do i address it as if im telling a story? im not sure but thats how im going to make it seem like and we will see how that goes). I was with her and her mom, it was recently her birthday and she had a very shitty day, even though I and my Mom tried to make it better she still felt really shitty and was very upset and crying, i remember seeing her bring a blanket out of her room to wrap up and cry into and it hit me that idk like i just felt so bad like something was fucked up like i dont even know what it was but the fact that she had her blanket to comfort her maybe it was because she was cold and wanted to cuddle up but like idk it just struck me as odd and like it just seemed like thats what comforted her and like im just not even sure what to say about it, after us arguing too we finally were able to cuddle and hangout for a little bit with the dog biting us and playing around being annoying but being cute at the same time. I left feeling so confused like ive never felt before i cant explain the emotion that i felt after that like i dont know the vocabulary to put that feeling into words. It was really a mix of being sad, feeling helpless and just i was very unsure of the reasons everything was the way it was and i felt like the world was spinning around me and i was standing still watching it move it was extremely weird, I didn't know what to feel or anything. My girlfriend fell asleep, it was a very tiring day for her but i needed someone to talk to or be with so I asked my friend to come over. (Its almost as if feel 2 different range of emotions when im with my girlfriend and everyone else and they dont work together which almost always ends up bad) We hungout and just listed to music and talked, we went into the my hot tub with the kid who lives next to me. I have known him for a long time but he is kind of a shitty person and friend, weve been friends for so long but yet he switches up on me idk my girlfriend hates him because he talked shit about us and made stuff up about her. I guess im just used to it with him by now but she dosent like it and insists that i don’t be friends with him. Whenever i talk to her about it i alwys leave feeling like yeah fuck him i dont wanna be his friend but then when i see him or talk to him like i just wanna be his friend idk why if its just easy or what like hes in my friend group and not a bad person to be around, he dosent talk shit about her or us anymore around me anyway because whenever he does i continue to make him feel like shit about things he does for the rest of the day which now i dont have to do because he dosent talk. Anyway yeah i had nick over and we smoked and today Alex found out about it that i had him over, she made me promise not to hangout with my friends but i made the promise almost knowing that i wasent going to hold it yet i still continue to tell her that. She balled her eyes out today after finding that out, i apparently broke her trust again. I still love her but i want to hangout with my friends i want to go to parties :/ im so inlove with her like i cant bring myself to break up with her like i love her and it fucking sucks because our relationship is going toxic i guess and i really need to probably get out of it before i destory everything i have or had even more but i cant bring myself to do it. I think about things and like i wish everything would just go away that would make it so much easier, if she would just break up with me and leave or something that would make me break up with her like that would be easy and i think its kind of fucked that i think that but at the same time maybe that shows in the way i act its kind of fucked also that i make all these hollow promises to her when I have my own agenda which i make seem like or feel like i have no room or time for actually doing things which she wants too. Maybe i have 2 high of an exception when it comes to high school and my friends and everything i do and i want to do. I feel like she is holding me back but also a crucial part of me, I started loosing interest when more was coining out of my friend group and that started to become something of greater interest to me. Like before we all did the same shit every weekend but now its different but im not sure if it is i dont know maybe the grass is always greener on the other side. I just need someone to talk to but its hard because im fighting a mental battle between my girlfriend and all that surrounds her and my friends and all that surrounds them. I feel like i can do whatever i want and not really experience the consequences for some reason because i feel like i can pull up before getting burned but im not sure if thats really the case because i feel like everyone feels like that way about themselves probably till reality hits them.Maybe im too optimistic im optimistic in waiting for my stocks to go up like i threw 75 of my savings money into them because i hope that somehow they will go up, invested that plus about 100 other dollars into a coin that i know absolutely nothing about and im not sure if that is a good decision or a bad one or just an in the middle idk fuck theres so much going on in my head right now with school and everything too like fuck idek. I literally cannot make this decision between my friends and girlfriend like just thinking about her shes so cute and adorable and perfect when everything is how she thinks it should be but its not what is making me happy entirely like yes i love her and i like to be with her but like its not like thats all i wanna do. I cant sit sill i have to move i have to do more things like and she just wants things to remain how they once were where they appeared perfect. For some reason i feel like im a really good boyfriend and did whatever she wanted at the time because i didnt want to be made fun of or joked about like if we ever broke  up and i dint want to end things with her and have her thinking about me as a shitty boyfriend like i wanted her to think of me the way she thought of her ex but i guess in doing that i also made her never want to loose me and she now is crazy and ive been shitty to her i think but maybe i haven't but she just puts crazy rules on me and i dont like to follow them so does make that me a bad boyfriend if the rules are crazy? I think i live in an idealistic world where everything will work out for me because i think it will and i know i can put my mind to it and make it work but im not sure if that is really tested and i know i can or if im just like high on my own ego and i can get let down when it actually comes time to do it. I just fucked with my girlfeinds ig and told her i hacked it and had dudes block her which is funny cuz she left it logged on on my phone and i blocked them but ill see how long i play this out for but it made me happyish and feel good and takes my mind off of things so it was alr. I think im going to stop todays thinggy here ill probably just play with the look of my blog. Maybe ill start a website for this idk well see. i enojoy this kinda idk i still want someone to talk to but everyone just like dosent get it they always just easily pick one side but its not that easy its so hard trying to play both sides an make both side happy and work with it when one side dosent like each other and i feel like i need both things :( maybe ill type more later. Goodbye