#i need asparagus gently telling him that he thought to be a lost boy as a kitten - that growing up he realized that

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

WIP/Unfinished Ficlet

"Will you still love me," Skimbleshanks had asked, leaning over his shoulder one winter afternoon. "When I'm as ancient as you are?"

Asparagus rolled his eyes, but did not look up from his book. Here they went again.

"You won't be here to find out if you go on," he replied dryly. "I may throttle you first."

Asparagus felt the huff of laughter on the side of his neck as the other tom clung to his back - which was good. The following silence indicated a gloomy drifting back into his own thoughts - which was, decidedly, not as good.

Asparagus supposed he should be insulted at the insinuation, but he wasn't. Not really. The question was a ridiculous one, certainly, but coming from the same place as the rest of his mate's recent odd behaviour. This had been their topic of conversation for weeks now, all leading up to the dreaded upcoming February morning. The railway cat was to celebrate his - what was the charming expression the humans used? Golden name day? (or perhaps that was for anniversaries; dreadfully hard to keep those straight) - though thus far, it had been anything but precious, and to say that he was displeased with this fact would be an understatement. They couldn’t even say the number (5-0) without a fuss being made, let alone apply it to anything. Skimbleshanks, dynamic and vibrant as he was, saw the day as one of impending doom rather than something celebratory. Which meant, of course, this sense of doom had spread thoroughly throughout the household. Several times over.

A midlife crisis had already been steadily brewing on the horizon as it were; this was just the tipping point. The nail in the coffin, so to speak (though Asparagus hesitated to associate coffins anywhere near this particular issue). Having known the other tom for as long as he had, however, Asparagus wouldn't call it a midlife crisis so much as Skimbleshanks' own peculiar combination of melodrama and genuine dread. Midlife catastrophe, perhaps. 

The railway cat had nearly had an aneurism when he discovered his first grey hair amidst his headfur (a day Asparagus remembered vividly, as he was the one to pluck it out at Skimble's flustered request), and a heart attack to boot when Jenny had responded innocently to a remark concerning his slowly dwindling energy reserve with a cheery: "It happens to all of us, dear. Welcome to the club." Even Jellylorum's gentle reminders that he needed to start warming up before diving into the fray - that he needed to be careful when hoisting the kittens up like that - that his knees wouldn't be nearly as forgiving as they once were should he land wrong - had put such a look on his face, you would have thought she'd slapped him.

Having been raised as he was, Asparagus was used to dramatics, but this was approaching something else entirely. Sometimes, though he’d never say it out loud, he swore he had three children to mind rather than two.

"Besides," he eventually continued, snapping his book shut on its folded corner and gently knocking it against the other tom's head to bring him back to attention. "I'm only three years older than you are, you pest." 

"Yes, I know," Skimbleshanks pouted, rubbing at the sore spot between his ears.

"And you know," he went on patiently. "That means that as you get older, so will I, and the point of comparison will shift."

"I know, I know, but you were born old, dear," Skimbleshanks explained, tilting his chin down, no doubt preparing for another knock. Cheeky little... He lowered his voice, as though to share a secret. "I don't think you've changed since I first laid eyes on you."

Asparagus looked back at him finally, removing his glasses, eyebrows raised. He debated whether that were meant to be a compliment. With Skimbleshanks, sometimes it was hard to tell. "I'll have you know I was at least slightly less grey then, thank you."

Skimbleshanks hummed, obviously enjoying himself. "But only slightly."

Asparagus scoffed, feigning a wounded pride. "You're very cruel, you know that?"

"Terribly so," the other tom muttered, pressing his cheek back against his neck as they readjusted. 

The two fell quiet once again, but the silence remained heavy and melancholy. Obviously the banter had done little to lighten his mood.

"Are you saying," Asparagus tried again to adjust the perspective, leaning his head back. "You stopped loving me when I got older? That you don't still love me now? Because this is quite the way to tell me."

"Of course not!" Skimbleshanks retorted, hugging him tighter. Asparagus winced at the reflexive claws that dug into one shoulder. "Don't be daft."

"Then I must ask why you would assume it'd be different on my end. Must have been something I said.” Asparagus tapped a paw carefully on his book cover as he considered. “Or something I didn't, perhaps?"

The ginger tom made an uncertain sound in his throat, but offered nothing further.

Hmm. 

"What would you like me to say instead?" Asparagus sighed, pushing his book away and turning fully towards the other tom. Skimbleshanks looked strangely perturbed for a moment at the loss of contact, slowly lowering his paws into his lap. He tilted his head down and shrugged.

"Perhaps: I will still love you even when every hair on your head has gone white, and your spine has curved down, and your whiskers start to sag, and you can't see an inch past your nose, and all of those quaint nothings?" Asparagus remained serious, but kept his tone decidedly light. A small smile twitched at the corner of Skimbleshanks' muzzle as he mulled this over.

"When every hair has gone white, eh?"

"Every single one." 

"And what about," Skimbleshanks asked, wringing his paws. "When I can't do what I could before?"

He was getting warmer. "Even more - and then some," Asparagus answered firmly. "You will still be doing more than I can, that I will assure you of."

Asparagus thought a moment more, studying his mate's downtrodden expression before continuing.

"Or perhaps I should be more direct: if you ever thought, even for a second, I am so shallow that I would ever abandon you as you got older, then I have obviously not used those nothings enough." 

Skimbleshanks remained quiet, but the twitch of his ears indicated he was listening intently. 

Asparagus did admittedly feel a twinge at that - he wasn't nearly as verbal with his affection as perhaps he should be. It had never been in him for the level of theatrics his father boasted, or even the confident and persistent assurities that Jelly did. He was quiet and plain, just as he'd always been, tripping over his words, preferring their quality time with one another beyond all else. Skimble had never seemed to mind before, citing his bashful reservation as "charming" (the dear), but perhaps it had finally gotten to him after all. It can't have helped. 

"I can't quite fix that one, can I? Not saying those enough?" Asparagus said quietly, reaching to place a paw on his knee. “I’m sorry.”

The silence stretched between them once again, but this time, it had changed. Minutely - but it had changed. He watched his mate’s tail swish with agitation, his mouth open, then close again. He flexed the hold of his paw on his leg when both of Skimble’s had reached to press it more firmly against the bone. Asparagus liked to think, after all this time, he had somewhat of a handle on what his mate was thinking and feeling - or at least in what direction he was headed when the wheels started turning. There was something trapped just behind Skimble’s teeth, he just needed a prompt.

Asparagus was beginning to connect the dots, slowly but surely.

"This isn't really about how I feel at all, is it?"

“Not exactly...I don’t think...no,” the other tom murmured at last. “Not really.”

Lukewarm on that one, but they were getting there. Asparagus stared at the top of the ginger tom’s head. He looked like a scolded kitten. Funny he should end up on this side of it, though perhaps he wouldn’t think so.

“Can you look at me, please?” he asked gently, glancing again at the tail swishing out of the corner of his eye.

Skimbleshanks complied, exhaling and looking up at him. There it was. That was the ticket.

“You’re afraid.” Direct. Matter-of-fact. The way the railway cat had always preferred. 

Skimbleshanks’ muzzle twisted, as though he were about to deny it, but the way his posture softened spoke volumes.

“Of what, dear?” Asparagus knew very well of what, but the why was still just beyond his grasp.

“I just...oh…” Skimbleshanks bit the inside of his lip as he searched for the words. When he found them, it was as though a floodgate had opened. “I can’t stand it, Asparagus, I can’t stand it. What am I to do? I can’t even stand the thought of...of not being needed anymore. Not being wanted. Not being…”

“Not being…?”

“Not being me anymore.”

#i've been convinced #CATS Musical #Skimbleshanks #Asparagus #skimblegus #my fanfic #WIP/unfinished - may never be finished because i have a slight direction of conversation but little else #there is a deep seated fear in skimbleshanks of losing onself - of losing autonomy because he's always been controlled #he's always been helpful and reliable #and to him getting old just feels so *wrong* because that's not him is it? that couldn't possible be him #slowing down - unable to do things he could do before #he needs the reassurance that it is - in fact - still him #that he does not change unless - everlasting forbid - something happens (and that is also where parts of the hesitancy on his end comes fro #his own father in law was in that boat - asparagus' father - he knows what can happen) #i need asparagus gently telling him that he thought to be a lost boy as a kitten - that growing up he realized that #time moves on and all we can really do is keep up to the best of our ability and hope it doesn't move on without you #it's a bittersweet thing - there's no real comforting answer #but skimble just needs to be assured that he *is* and will continue to be you know? #psychological stuff

[spidermecc]

Unintentional love (Elu fake dating AU) Ch.4 - It’s a date

The new chapter of my fic is ready. Enjoy, and let me know what you think. Read it on AO3 here.  Also I really need to come up with a proper title soon, but I’m blank right now, help a mec out. 

Lucas woke up with a splitting headache. His mouth felt dry as a desert and the room was indeed still spinning. He grabbed his water bottle from the nightstand and drank it all in one go. Yesterday was all a bit of a blur, he remembered sitting on the couch with Eliott, talking. Eliott disappearing and then himself, drinking shots with some guy. What was the guy’s name again? Conan? Conrad? Lucas couldn’t remember, but he did remember him saying that Eliott had been talking to his ex-girlfriend. He felt his stomach starting to churn, and he wasn’t quite sure if it was the hangover and the fact that he hadn’t eaten in over 24 hours, or if it was the thought of Eliott bailing on him with his ex. Ex-girlfriend, so Eliott was into girls.

He grabbed his phone from his jacket pocket, which had been thrown on the floor next to him. Six unread messages, the first two was from the group chat with the boys.

(23:55) Yann: Yo Lucas, where did you go? Eliott is asking for you

(00:04) Arthur: Lucas are you okay? Some of the girls said they’d seen you ran out in a hurry. Did you have too much to drink again haha

Eliott was asking for him? Hadn’t Eliott left before him? He quickly typed in a reply, not wanting to worry the guys.

Lucas:  Hey I’m good, I just had one shot too many, had to go home and sleep it off.

As he exited the chat he saw four unread messages from Eliott.

(22:50) Eliott: Hey I have to leave for an hour or so, I’m really sorry but something came up. I’ll be back as fast as I can, don’t go anywhere, I’ll explain later.

Lucas hadn’t checked his phone at all last night after Eliott disappeared. He felt a warmth surge through him, when he realized that Eliott hadn’t just left without saying anything. But the feeling didn’t last long. ‘Something came up’? Was that ‘something’ his ex? Had Eliott really left him alone at the party, to go God-knows-where, with his ex?

(00:01) Eliott: Where are you, I’ve been looking for you for ages, I’m really sorry I left.

(00:10) Eliott: Someone said you left in a hurry. I hope everything is okay?

(01:20) Eliott: Lucas, can you please text me when you see this?

Eliott had actually come back to the party as he’d said he would. Lucas checked what time Eliott had sent the other messages, to see how long he’d been away. An hour, Eliott had been away for an hour with his ex-girlfriend. It’s not like Lucas thought it was an actual date, he knew that Eliott was doing him a favour, and he had no right to be upset, but still, he couldn’t help the feeling of betrayal creeping up on him. He’d thought they were having fun, talking, laughing, getting to know each other. So why had Eliott left? And why had he come back? The confusion was too much for a hungover Saturday, so he typed in a quick response, secretly hoping that Eliott wouldn’t answer, so he could go back to sleep and wallow in self-pity.

Lucas: Hey, I’m fine, I just had a bit too much to drink so I left.

Not even one minute later a reply came.

Eliott: Good, I’m glad you’re okay. You had me worried there.

Worried? If he was so worried, then why the fuck did he just bail on him like that? He knew he was being petty as he was typing his response, but he just couldn’t help himself.

Lucas: No need to worry. Met a really cool guy, hung out with him the rest of the night, so it was all good.

He could feel his heart starting to race faster. Why did he write that? It’s not like Eliott was going to be jealous, he didn’t care, he wasn’t even into boys for God’s sake. But still, there had been moments yesterday when Lucas had allowed himself to hope, if only for a split second, that this thing between him and Eliott could be real. He was such a dumbass, he always had been and always would be.  

Eliott: Okay, cool.

He threw his head on the pillow and let out what must have sounded like a whale sighing. Eliott was the human equivalent of a rubiks cube, and Lucas had, to his dismay, never been able to solve one of those in his entire life. The memory of 10-year old Lucas throwing a rubiks cube into the wall and crying out of sheer frustration came back to him. It had been a gift from his father, and he had been desperate to solve it, so he could show him and make him proud, always desperate to please him. But he never had succeeded in either one of those things.

He could feel his phone vibrate again and he grabbed it embarrassingly fast, hoping for another message from Eliott.

@curtisno1 started following you

Curtis, that was the guy’s name, Lucas thought as he opened up the Instagram app, looking through the guy’s photos. He looked slightly younger in his photos than he did yesterday, but then again, Lucas had been completely fucked, so it might just have been his memory failing him. He hit the follow button, and exited the app as he closed his eyes and welcomed the sleep he had been deprived of last night.

As he closed his eyes, he tried to space out and not think of the fact that that was probably the last time he’d talked to Eliott. Yeah they’d greet each other in the hallways, but Eliott had upheld his part of the deal. Lucas would have to tell the boys (and everyone else) that they’d broken up, so he could let Eliott off the hook. But still, flashes of beautiful blue eyes, slightly puffy and pink lips, and messy brown hair kept appearing, until sleep finally gave him release he’d been craving.

__ “Ugh Lucas, your room smells worse than my piss after eating asparagus” Mika exclaimed, drawing the curtains and opening the window in his room.

He had spent the whole weekend watching stupid comedies on Netflix, intentionally ignoring the massive pile of homework that was basically screaming ‘do me’ at him. Surprisingly he had slept through the entire night, but even though he felt well-rested, he didn’t quite have the energy to deal with Mika on a Monday morning.

“Mika please leave, it’s my room, I payed for it” he said, pulling the covers over his head, in an attempt to block out the sunlight.

“You barely pay rent, and also you’re going to be late for school if you don’t get that tight ass of yours out of bed” he said, pulling the covers away from Lucas.

“Shit, what time is it?” he said, suddenly painfully aware of just how bright it was, he must have slept through his alarm.

“It’s 7:40, and even though I don’t go to school anymore, I’m pretty sure classes still start at the same time they did when I was young and tight”.

Lucas didn’t even bother answering him, too busy putting on the first pair of pants and t-shirt he could get his hands on, and exactly 10 minutes later he was out of the door. He arrived at school with two minutes to spare, which was a complete miracle. What wasn’t a miracle was the way he looked. On the bus ride he noticed a big yellow stain on the t-shirt he was wearing, cursing under his breath, he’d tried rubbing it away with his spit and thumb, but it had only made it worse and to top it off, he’d forgotten his biology and math books at home on his desk.

It had been a stressful day to say the least, so when lunch break came, he almost ran to the cafeteria, desperate for food.

“Yo bro” Yann said, dumping his tray next to Lucas, followed by Basile and Arthur.

“Well you look like shit today” Basile said, eyeing Lucas, looking almost disgusted.

“Thanks, I felt bad that you were always the ugly one, so I thought I’d help a bro out for once” Lucas shot back, always ready to shoot down Basile.

“Daaaaaaayum” both Yann and Arthur yelled, laughing and high-fiving Lucas, leaving Basile as the loser as usual.

“Yeah yeah whatever” Basile muttered, as he shoved his face with lasagna.

“So, what happened to you and Eliott on Friday?” Yann suddenly asked, nudging Lucas’ shoulder.

It’s not like Lucas didn’t expect them to ask about Eliott today, but he had thought that he’d have time to make up a cover story. But the whole day had just been so stressful that he’d completely forgotten about the fact that he had to tell the boys that he and Eliott were not a thing anymore. He cursed under his breath, vowing never to snooze his alarm ever again.

“Uhm, not much I guess? I just went home early, wasn’t feeling well” he managed, hoping they’d leave it at that.

Yann gave him a glance that gave Lucas the impression, that he wasn’t completely buying the story. Nevertheless, he offered; “He’s a really cool guy though, I liked him”.

“Bro, he was looking for you for ages, I felt so bad for the dude, I thought you’d dumped him or something” Basile said chuckling, “We had to calm him down and tell him you’d probably just gotten too drunk” he continued.

“It’s true” Arthur chimed in “he was really worried, so we got worried as well, but we figured you’d just went home”

“Yeah, thanks” Lucas muttered, not exactly sure how to proceed. He felt a strange surge of pride by the fact that Eliott had seemed genuinely worried. But then again, Eliott was an incredibly good actor, he’d almost fooled Lucas as well, he thought, bringing himself down to earth. He had to tell the guys now, before he lost his nerve.

“So I have to tell you guys so-“ he started, before he was caught off by a warm hand on his shoulder, gently nudging him. He already knew who the hand belonged to before he turned around, as if already having memorized Eliott’s touch.

He turned around, and there he was, taking Lucas’ breath away once again. Eliott looked tired, as if he hadn’t slept much, and he had a sudden urge to wrap him into a blanket and take care of him.

“Salut” Eliott said, addressing the guys, who all looked way too pleased to see him, given the fact that they’d only met him once. It must be the Eliott effect, Lucas thought.

“Can we talk in private?” he said, looking at Lucas this time.

“Sure” he answered, getting up from his seat, secretly thanking Eliott for interrupting them at just the right moment.

Eliott led the way, and Lucas followed him, down to the basement into the library. When they reached the spot by the radiators, Eliott finally turned around and looked at Lucas, with a serious expression on his face.

“I’m really sorry about Friday. I uh- met my ex” he said fidgeting with his backpack strap.

“Oh?” Lucas said, looking anywhere but directly at Eliott.

“Yeah, I told her that I was dating someone new, and she kind of freaked out so I had to try and calm her down, and it just ended up taking a lot longer than I thought” he said, surprising Lucas. He’d told his ex-girlfriend that he was dating Lucas?

“You told her you’re dating me? Why?”

“Well everyone already thinks we’re dating, and honestly I’ve been trying to tell her it’s over for a while, but she won’t really accept it, so this whole thing might actually benefit me as well” Eliott answered, trying to catch Lucas’ gaze.

Was it just Lucas or did Eliott actually look nervous?

“Oh.. I didn’t realize that we were going to keep doing this” he replied, not sure of what to say, so deciding to be honest.  

“You want to call quits already?” Eliott asked, looking almost sad, or was Lucas just imagining things?

“No I-uhm.. I mean no, not if you’re up for it. I mean I was kind of dreading telling the guys that we weren’t together anymore and you know, Chloe might get suspicious so..” he trailed off, not sure what he was trying to say and pretty sure he wasn’t making any sense at all. It was just all confusing and overwhelming. Eliott hadn’t ditched Lucas at the party, he’d told his ex that he was dating Lucas. So here they were, there was no turning back.

“Cool, it’s a deal then. We keep doing this for a while. At least until Lucille and Chloe start to move on, right?”

“It’s a deal” Lucas said, finally looking directly at Eliott. He couldn’t help but smile a bit to himself, this meant that he’d get to spend more time with Eliott, get to know him better, which was all he’d wanted from the moment he laid eyes on him.

Before Lucas could register what was happening, Eliott was impossibly close, cupping his face in his hands.

“Don’t freak out, but Chloe is right behind you, and she is staring” he whispered, as he took Lucas by surprise and moved in close, so close, and planted a kiss on his lips. His lips were slightly damp, and ever so soft, it almost felt like being stroked with a feather, but it was over before Lucas could even register, let alone respond to the touch.

If Lucas could have one wish, it would be that Eliott did that again, so he could savour the moment, bottle it up and put it under his pillow for safekeeping. Eliott was still cupping his face, looking him in the eyes, almost daring him to say something, do something, anything. But Lucas just stood there looking dumbfounded at him.

“Is- uhm- is she still there?” he asked, desperate to get out of the library and away from Eliott before he lost all his self-control and went in for another kiss. Desperate to taste those soft lips, he’d been dreaming about. He could feel his cheeks burning underneath Eliott’s touch. His hands were so soft, Lucas wondered how they’d feel stroking his back, his arms, his stomach, below…

He regretted saying anything, because as he did, Eliott looked up and gently removed his hands from Lucas’ face and took a step back.

“Nope, she’s gone. The coast is all clear” his cheeky smile was back. “I gotta get to class, but I’m glad we talked, see you soon mon mec” he continued laughing at his own joke yet again while adjusting his backpack, and with a slight wave, he was gone, leaving Lucas alone at the library with the ghost of his lips still on him.

__ The rest of the day went by impossibly slow, for someone who was desperate to go home and replay the events of what happened at the library over and over until his brain cells gave up.

When he finally got home, he decided to do some of the neglected homework that was staring judgingly at him from his desk.

He’d contemplated texting Eliott, but every time he typed in a message he deleted it as fast as he could, before his traitorous hands hit send by mistake. He was desperate to talk to Eliott, he wanted to know how his day had been, if he’d been thinking about the kiss as much as Lucas had. He wanted to know what he ate for dinner and whether or not he got enough sleep. He had to snap himself out of it multiple times. “You’re not really dating, Lucas” he repeated over and over to himself almost like a mantra.

As if the universe heard his prayers, a message came from Eliott, and Lucas almost dropped his phone, desperate to see what it said.

Eliott: So when are we hanging out?

His heart started racing at the prospect of seeing Eliott again, but then he remembered. There were no parties this weekend, and the guys hadn’t asked to meet Eliott again, so he typed in a reply.

Lucas: I don’t think the guys have asked to meet you again any time soon, and there aren’t any parties this weekend, so I don’t know.

Eliott: I didn’t mean with your friends. I meant just the two of us.

Holy fucking shit. Eliott wanted to hang out, just the two of them. If anyone had heard Lucas at that moment, they might have mistaken him for a thirteen-year old girl, by the sound he made.

He’d been so busy screeching, that he’d forgotten to reply to Eliott’s text, when his phone vibrated again.

Eliott: You want to make the relationship believable right?

Lucas: I mean, yeah

His replies literally became dumber and dumber. Why was it so hard to formulate a proper response? Honestly he wouldn’t blame Eliott if he just blocked him and found a new pretend boyfriend, because this one apparently had peas for brain cells.

Eliott: Honestly Lucas, have you never watched To all the boys I’ve loved, before? Hanging out is crucial if you want people to believe your lie

Lucas: I have no idea what that even means

Eliott: It’s a movie, Lucas

Eliott: The ending is my personal favorite ;)

Lucas made a mental note to watch the movie at some point, but given that Eliott’s favorite was Titanic, he probably wouldn’t be all that into it.

Lucas: Is it about rats turning into raccoons?

Eliott: Ha ha ha, very funny. No, it’s about a hedgehog that gets its ass kicked by a badass raccoon

Lucas: Sounds fake

Eliott: It’s based off a true story you know

Lucas: I’m making a mental note to watch it soon then, because it sounds CRAZY. But given your favorite movie is Titanic, I’m not getting my hopes up.

Eliott: Damn Lucas, you keep breaking my heart, soon there won’t be anything left.

Lucas: Sorry :(( How about we hang out Wednesday then?

Eliott: It’s a date!

Lucas might or might not have had a minor heart attack reading the last message. Surely Eliott was just being his usual funny and teasing self, but that didn’t stop his heart from doing back flips whenever he read and reread the last message. It’s a date.

#elu fic #skam france #elu #skamfr #elu au #fanfic #eliott x lucas #lucas x eliott #eliott demaury #lucas lallemant #archiveofourown #ao3

[someflareoutwithlove]

Five years...

Trigger Warnings: Transphobia, Abuse. abandonment, homelessness, suicide

A writing about Damiens coming out experience to his family, and how it all went down. 

Damien stood in his bedroom, locks of his once long black hair laid at his feet as he chopped at it, determined to make it short. He knew it was going to look horrible, but at least he would start to look like himself. He didn’t care if it was uneven, he didn’t care if it looked like a toddler with a chainsaw went wild on it. 

Just as he put the scissors down there was a knock on his door, still covered in streamers and with balloons that bobbed half way from the ground as they slowly lost the helium that filled they four short days ago. 

“Amelia” his mothers soft voice called from the other side of the door “dear, are you alright in there? We haven’t seen you all day.” She was the kind of woman you’d see ringing the Salvation Army bell. Long dark hair, pulled into a bun at the base of her skull, and the gently eyes of a sunday school teacher. A feature that Damien always found comfort in.

“I’m okay mom” Damien called out “just- doing some reading. I’ll be out in a little bit. I- I need t-to talk to- to you all abou-about something imp-or-important.”

“Are you sure you’re okay huh” she asked “you’re stammering is getting pretty bad.”

“Y-yeah.. Like I said- I- it’s important.” 

“Did Elijah get you pregnant? You know that boy is sweet, but I don’t think he’d be fit to be a father, not this young. But I’m sure he’d be more than happy to stick by you, and be your husband.”

Damien felt his face turn a bright red. It had been nearly a year since he came out to Elijah. Two years since they broke up. “No, mom. Tha-that’s.. that’s not it. We- we uh- we decided that- that we work better as- as just friends a wh-while ago.. remember?” 

It still hurt, however. Damien still found himself having feelings for his friend. His smile, his laugh. The way his eyes lit up as he talked on and on about almost anything. The freckles that speckled across his whole body, and his soft belly that made him perfect for using as a pillow. He was Damien's best friend for many years, and someone Damien loved. 

“Okay if you’re sure hun” his mom said “I’ll see you downstairs in a bit. Annabelle is making dinner tonight, she learned a new recipe from a classmate in college. I love you baby girl.” 

Damien let out a small sigh before calling out “love you too, mom.” 

Half an hour passed, Damien still stood staring at himself in the mirror as he slowly wrapped a bandage around his chest. He knew it was bad for him- and he knew how much it could hurt him. But this was all he could do for now. It was all he had. If anyone asked him now, despite still doing it, he would tell them not to. Sure, Elijah and his sister had offered to buy him a proper one, but he refused.

He never liked people helping him like that. It made him feel guilty. Like he’d owe them something in return. Or- like he was using them, despite that being far far from the truth. 

He pulled on a light blue shirt, and the purple sweater he’d gotten for his birthday days ago. Slowly he zipped it up. There was no going back now. This is who he was. And his family had to know. 

The door opened and he stepped out into the hall, just in time to run into his mother who was coming up to check on him again. She let out a small gasp looking up at him. 

“Oh sweety, what have you done to your beautiful hair” she asked, reaching up to touch it “oh hun- I thought you were past this phase of giving yourself haircuts.”

Damien pulled back slightly “I was- was just getting t-tiered of it bein’ long mom- th- that’s all” he told her “can.. can you g- get everyone down- downst- st-airs.?”

She nodded a bit, frowning as she looked him up and down. He could tell she was scared of what he was going to say. She had every right to be. He felt his heart thumping hard in his chest as they parted ways, her going to gether the family, and him going down stairs. 

“Hey kiddo” a voice called from the kitchen “I love the new hair cut. Sort of gives off that hard-rock look.” Annabelle stood, spatula in her hand, her brown currly hair pulled back off her face. 

“Th-thanks A-Anna” Damien said softly “I- I uh-”

“I can tell you did it yourself” she interrupted “mom says you got somethin’ important to tell us. Can’t wait to hear what it is. Can I take a guess?”

He let out a small chuckle. His big sister always could make him smile, always make him feel safe. “Sure- b-bu-but you probably wo-wont be able to.” He thought he may as well humor her. Maybe, it would soften the blow of the truth.

“You’ve decided to apply to Julliard for your piano playing!” 

He shook his head “n-no-nope that’s not it.. my- my- my stage fright is- is far too- too bad for somethin’ like that.” 

Anabelle frowned a bit “oh boo” she said “you know you would own that school.” She swapped an arm around him, standing a little shorter than him, in a side hug, that he hesitantly returned. 

He walked into the kitchen with her, the smell of her dinner wafting in the air. Fish and asparagus. 

His little sister, father, and mother all came down the stairs. His father, a tall, looming figure. His eyes sunken into his face, cold and judgmental framed by thin square glasses, and bushy eyebrows. 

Damien watched as his fathers cold eyes locked onto him. “Amelia” he greeted “you cut your hair, I liked it better long. You look like a-” 

He stopped when his mother jabbed him with her elbow “I think she looks lovely” she interrupted “I liked it better longer, but I think it frames her face nicely.”  She flashes a sweet smile at him as they all took a seat on the couch. 

Damien stool still, looking at his family. He felt time slow to a stop around him. Their eyes all looking at him, patiently judging. 

“Okay-” he started “o-okay I- I- I don’t know how to- how to say this but- I- I-” Damien took in a deep breath, he could already feel his eyes growing wet. This was something he’d been going over in his head for along time. Something he’d been practicing to himself, and with Elijah. It was easy with him. He accepted Damien for who he was. He always had. 

“I- I’m not- good in this- I’m- I thi- I know- I’m transgender. I- I’ve known for years- and--” he stopped talking as his father rose from his spot on the couch. 

“No you aren’t” his father hissed “no daughter if mine is goin’ to be a tranny freak!” 

Damien closed his eyes, as tears started to stream down his face “this is who I am- wh- I- I am trans- my- I-” how could he explain it? Could he?

Before he could think, his father stormed over to him and smacked him across the face, sending him to the ground. Damien cold hear his mother gasp in shock as he looked up at his father. 

“No. No daughter of mine” he shouted “Amelia- you need to get yourself together! Either you are my daughter or you are not welcome in this house. You have five minutes to decide!” 

Slowly, Damien stood up and walked to his room. Moments later, his mother followed. “Amelia- hunny” she called after “please- don’t do this- we love you-”

Something inside Damien snapped then, and he turned to look at her, his voice rising slightly “my name is Damien mom! I’m not fuckin’ Amelia! Da-mi-en!”

“TIMES UP NOW” his father shouted, loud enough to shake Damien to his core. In seconds he storned up the his middle child and grabbed him by the wrist. “I don’t care whop the fuck you think you are. You are Amelia. And you are no longer welcome in this house, so long as you keep living as a freak.” He dragged him to the door.

“Dad- please” Damien begged.

“No- I am not your father” he hissed as he threw the door open “as far as I’m concerned, we are strangers now- understood?” With that he tossed Damien out the door. “if you come back onto my property, I will call the cops.” With that, he slammed the door, locking it. 

There Damien stood, staring at the home he’s spent 17 years in. Where he learned to walk and talk. Where his height was measured on the kitchen door frame. Now, somewhere he was never welcome again. Filled with people who he believed never wanted to see him again. 

With that, he turned around and walked away. 

--

As months past, Damien grew worse and worse. Taking to drinking, and harming himself to cope. Two habits that he now wished he never started. He spent his days wondering around the streets, doing odd jobs for people to make enough money to eat. Nothing but his sweater, and a hat a stranger gave him to keep him warm. By the end of September, he’d left Bar Harbor, and was in Portland. Running around the streets still, getting more and more things to himself. 

The first time he spoke to Elijah in months was also the last time he would for years. It was December 28th. He was drunk, and he had plans. He needed to say goodbye to someone. Someone who he knew loved him, and who he loved deeply. 

Luckly, Damien had found a payphone, and still remembered Elijah's phone number. He listened to the phone ring on the other end a few times. It was late, so he wouldn’t be surprised if his friend was still sleeping. 

Just before it went to voice mail, a sleepy voice answered “who the hell is calling at this hour” he asked.

Damiens heart skipped a beat. It was him. A voice he hadn’t heard in so long. He slowly sunk to the ground, still holding the phone to his ear. 

“Hello” Elijah asked “come on- you woke me up- say something.”

Damien sniffled a bit “it’s good to hear your voice, Eli” he said softly “fuck- I- I miss.”

“D-Damien” Elijah asked, more alert now “Damien! Where are you? I can come get you! Are you safe? Are you warm?”

“Eli-”

“Why didn’t you come here? We would have welcomed you. Please- come here Damien. You can be home with us-”

“Eli- stop. I- I can’t.. it- it hurts to- to much to be anywhere in Bar Harbor right now. I-I’m in Portland.”

“Why haven't you called?”

“I- I don’t know.. I- I wanted to.. I- I’ve been trying to- to feed myself- and- and stay war-”

“Annabelle told us everything. My- my mom- Damien my mom would have called someone for you, she could get your dad locked up for that you know that right? We could do something! It’s not fair what happened. Please come home. You can be home with me- with my family. We can be your family-”

“Elijah- shut up. Please- I just- I need- I had to” Damien let out a soft cry “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye...? Now? Not when-” then it clicked “oh- oh. No! NO NO! Damien- please-” Elijah was standing in his room now, getting a robe on. He had to get someone.

“Elijah- I’ve made up my mind. Pleas- don’t try to talk me out of it. You can’t- and- and it will only hurt more.” 

“Like hell I can’t! Where in Portland are you? Stay on the phone with me-” he paused to shout “VICTORIA! VICTORIA! I NEED HElP-” Damien could hear the desperation in his friends voice. He’d almost never seen, or heard Elijah cry before. This hurt. 

“Elijah I’m sorry. Please don’t worry- please don’t look. I love you, so fuckin’ much. And- I’m sorry this is the last thin you’ll hear from me. I figured after everythin’ you’ve done. Everything you helped me with. You’ve always been there, and always could make me smile. I love that about you. I love your eyes that make me feel safe, your freckles that just add to your child-like wonder. You are an amazing man. Promise me you’ll never change.” 

Elijah was silent for a while “I love you too, Damien. You’re my best friend. Please.. I can’t lose you like this.”

“I’m sorry- goodbye Elijah. I hope you have the amazing life you deserve. Even if I’m not in in.” With that, he stood up and hung up. 

Damien was found unconscious, less than an hour later by an elderly woman, who rushed the young man to the hospital. He attempted to overdose on painkillers, but luckily was taken to the ER in time to save his life. To this day, he doesn’t know the identity of the woman who saved his life. All he knows is she wanted to go by ‘Granny’ on all his reports. 

Five years down the road after that horrible night. Damien found himself getting dressed for work, in the small apartment he was renting. His hair grown out, and scars healed. He was in a much better place now. Yes, he still struggled, but he was doing better now. He had friends who he considered his family. He had a job, even if he didn’t like it much, and he had a roof over his head. 

Damien had plans for the future now too. He was going to go to college and become a social worker. He was going to help youth who were in the same position as him. He wanted to be something to help give them hope. Hope that he desperately needed all those years ago. 

He was also going to get back in touch with Elijah. Or so he planned to. One day. 

Life was better now. He knew that. And while thoughts of suicide still lingered in his mind, he was able to push them to the side, knowing how much things can change. And wanting to be around to see his own life become better. 

#long post #sad boy in purple; About Damien #Drabble #Calvin writing #tw; transphobia #tw; self harm #tw; suicide #writing #tumblr authors

[kpop-sprite]

Want To Be Your Star

An Astro Series Ft. 24k Kisu

Part 3

My body flew up, my brow covered in sweat, my heart racing. This was the third night in a row I dreamt of that day years ago when Kisu – No! I shook my head and leaned over the side of my bed, my toes brushing against the cold wood floor, the moon shining in through my window creating shadows against my wall.

New start my ass.

I glance over at the clock, the red numbers staring at me, 4:32am. “I guess I can get up now, I’m not getting any rest anytime soon.” I stand up from my bed and move to the bathroom, a dark shadow in the mirror, it almost looks like…Kisu. I slap the light switch, the room lighting up the robe, the reason for the shadow.

Jesus, you’re losing it.

My body shuffles its way to the shower turning it on, my pajamas dropping to the floor before slipping under the shower head, the steam overtaking the feelings building up in my mind.

 “That’ll be 6,000 won please.” The sound of the register accepting the cash rang out. It has been a week since my store opened and I was doing well so far, nice flow of customers coming in and out, and even had a few celebrities to come into the store. Granted they are all from Astro, but who better to eat your fresh hotteok than them?

Ping. Ping.

I looked up at the door, my regular customer walking in. “Hey, Jinjin. Wondered when you would be rolling in here for your crepes.”

A pout formed on his face, “how do you know I’m not here for the asparagus rolls?”

I raised a brow at him, who was he kidding?

“Okay, give me the crepes, but only two this time!” His toothy grin spreading across his face.

“Sure, sure,” I laughed going to the back to make the crepes. I poured the batter onto the pan waiting for the crepe to take its thin form, my mind flashing back to the day Kisu walked in the door.

“I heard you were back in Seoul.”

Why did it matter if I was back in Seoul? He’s the one that—

“Y/N?” Jinjin’s voice echoed out.

“Huh? Oh.” I focused back on what I was doing and gently folded the crepe and placed it on a plate.

“Are you okay? You seem rather out of it.” His voice was concerned, eyes gazing into mine.

“Yeah, just stressed and tired I guess.” I tried to reassure him.

“Why not come out with us tonight?” Jinjin asked, taking in a mouthful of crepe, “we’re going to Eunwoo’s to play games and drink. It’ll be fun.”

“I could use a drink,” I smiled, sliding the second crepe onto his plate.

“Great! I’ll tell the guys!” His toothy grin making me smile, his cheek full of crepe. Oh, Jinjin.

 The rhythmic sounds of my boots on the sidewalk filled the silenced winter atmosphere. I pulled my coat in taut to my body as the wind and snow pushed against me, making my way to Eunwoo’s place.

Did Korea always get so cold in the winter?

I shivered trying to remember why I left Australia for this weather. Oh, that’s right, spiders.

My boots slid against the steps to the front door, my legs trying not to go into a full split before reaching the door. I reached my hand out to ring the bell when suddenly, the inevitable happened, I slipped, a hand grabbing my wrist before I fell to the bushes to my right.

My breath, heavy, my heart pounding out from fear of falling. I look up to see Jinjin grabbing my wrist and reaching out to grab my other hand.

“Come on, I got you.” He was so strong, his biceps twitching under his white long-sleeve shirt. Something I had failed to notice before.

I placed my other hand in his and he pulled me up to him, our bodies meeting. Our chests together. I turned my face to look at him, his eyes focused on keeping me steady. The sudden smell of his cologne filling my senses; cinnamon and myrrh.

Jinjin.

“Is that Y/N?” Rocky coming into the entrance way, Jinjin quickly realizing he was still holding onto me let me go, his face blushing red.

“Hey, Rocky!” I embraced him into a hug, his cologne replacing Jinjin’s for a moment.

“Nooooona! I’ve been waiting all day for you to get here!” Yoon Sanha practically pranced from the living room to take my hand and drag me into the other room.

“Aish, Sanha! Let Y/N take her coat off before you take her away!” Jinjin protested to their maknae.

“You should have done that instead of feeling up on her! She’s a lady, not an item, Hyung!” Sanha’s sassy mouth spat out quicker than Jinjin could react, his eyes narrowing to small lines as he glared at the boy.

“Now, now I thought we were going to drink and have fun, you two aren’t going to be doing this all night, are you?” Eunwoo spoke out, trying to reason with the two boys arguing.

“Hey, Y/N. How has the store been?” MJ asked, his body curled into a ball on the couch looking like a baby bird in a nest.

“It’s going well, MJ. Just busy.” I smiled at him as I slipped off my shoes, Rocky taking them and my coat to the hallway where Sanha dragged me from. I found a place to sit on the floor at the coffee table, boys bickering to the left of me and a beautiful window showing a profile of the city to the right of me. A fire in the fireplace crackled in front of the seating area, next to it an archway to a hallway to the kitchen Moonbin emerging from there with a tray of food and a bag of bottled wine and beer. “So, who needs a drink?” His eyes sharpened like a cats, ready to attack.

“ME!” The room shouted out, followed by laughter.

 The night was filled with laughter, jokes, and friends gathered around enjoying each other. We played Mafia and lost against MJ who was stealthier than we had all anticipated. Rocky showed us his new dance moves for their comeback stage and managed to convince Sanha to do it too, but not so effortlessly fell into Eunwoo who threatened to throw him in the icy pool outside. Moonbin suggested we do karaoke and while he was doing his rendition of ‘Love’ by Taemin in the weirdest pitch we ever heard, I buried my head into Jinjin’s arm tears streaming down my face from laughing so hard.

After a few hours, Sanha was passed out across a chair, his lanky body unable to stay in the frame of the armrests. Rocky and MJ went to bed in the guest room, Eunwoo and Moonbin started to carry the trash to the kitchen to be thrown away. I leaned against Jinjin once more, a sigh leaving my lips.

“It’s nice to see you like this.” Jinjin looked down at me, his hair shadowing his eyes.

“Like what?” I wondered.

“Happy. You seemed so upset earlier, so it’s nice to see you being happy like when I first met you.” Jinjin reassured me.

“Ah, yeah,” I leaned my head on his shoulder trying not to remember what got me upset in the first place.

“Hey Y/N?” His voice was right beside me, so why did he sound lightyears away?

“Yea?” I looked up at him, his chestnut brown eyes gazing into mine, his hand cups my cheek and his face leans into my own. His breath intoxicating me faster than the alcohol, his lips meeting mine, first soft and gentle, then hard and deep.

A swirl of feelings flooded through my system, my core pulsating from his lips alone. His fingers pulled me in deeper, his tongue landing in between my wet lips teasing my tongue with a playful motion. His lips pulled back from me to stare into my eyes once more before delving deeper into our kissing. Fingers sliding into my dark brown locks of hair, his breath filling me internally while our tongues tied together creating an infinity.

“I’M TELLING!” Sanha’s loud voice pulled us away from each other, we turned our gaze quickly to the boy in the chair, his body flopping over its fabric his eyes still shut a light snore passing his lips.

He’s sleep tattling?

I look back at Jinjin, his eyes returning to mine. His lips place a gentle peck onto my nose.

“I think it’s time for bed,” he smirked helping me up from the floor, my hand still in his as he led us to the bedroom.

#astro #astro x reader #astro scenarios #astro imagines #astro kpop #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #kpop smut #jinjin #mj #myungjun #sanha #moonbin #cha eunwoo #eunwoo #yoon sanha #minhyuk #rocky

[thiscatastrophe]

All weekend and no word from Shino.

It’s not like Sakura expects anything. Shino’s not a friend who shows up at someone’s doorstep at the crack of dawn with a smile and a coupon to the village’s best dango stand. It’s normal not to hear from him all weekend unless their paths cross in town.

An anxious energy keeps her up all Friday night. What did she do? Will everything be alright? She cleans her room in the dead of night and tries to quiet the questions.

Sakura manages a single hour of sleep just before sunrise. Hands shaking, she drops a book of ticket stubs and mission reports, precious memories that scatter all over the floor, and before she can kick herself for the offense she collapses into bed, asleep before the pillow curls over her ears. A fragmented dream: Sasuke’s face, breaking apart into a million beetles. She wakes with unfallen tears in her eyes and quietly leaves before her parents wake.

The sun rises over Konoha as she scuffs her shoes through the city streets. Shino’s father, unreadable and silent, takes her boxed-up food at the Aburame family’s gate. He nods gently and turns before she can ask questions; behind him, nobody else waits in the courtyard. All weekend, her errands bring her on round trips near the compound, her conscious steps taking her farther away again and again.

Sunday night fades away, hazy and hot. Well, it’s normal not to see your coworkers on the weekends, especially someone as reserved as Shino. Sakura falls asleep with a promise to herself—you’re overthinking it—on her lips, and dreams of Sasuke’s soft black hair and comforting smile.

But Monday, that’s abnormal. No beetles show up in her office with tiny notes—“I would like to have soba for lunch,” or “Would you like some leftover winter melon soup?”—and Shino doesn’t appear in her office near break time. He doesn’t wait for her to finish her shift, silently watching his youngest insects explore the palm of his hand. When she passes his makeshift lab on errands, his door is shut.

Tuesday. Well, he’s a quiet person. It’s nothing to be concerned with. She keeps her head down and manages to finish work early.

Wednesday. Naruto shows up—surprising, considering he’s several weeks early off a mission. They sit side by side at the Ichiraku counter, listening to each others’ stories. His are long and grand and hilarious. Hers are shorter and shorter every time. The cries for help die on her tongue—how do you tell Sunshine Embodied, the little boy who never fell out of love, that you wake up sick to your stomach over some feeling you can’t pin down? Eventually she falls silent and lets him finish off her noodles; she’s too busy methodically breaking apart a fishcake.

“You’re lost in thought lately,” he comments after lunch is over. “What an intelligent person, you!” And he and his silver-linings outlook run off to check in with Lady Fifth.

Hawks criss-cross the city like telephone wire, carried gentle and easy on thermals. None of their letters are for her. Even with company she stares after them far too often; without company? She’s lost. Adrift, waiting for a letter in a bottle.

This won’t do.

She stops by the Yamanaka shop after work.

“Sakura?”

She didn’t know Shino woke up so early. Especially on a weekend.

The empty lot next to the hospital is torn up as if a shovel-wielding hurricane struck overnight. Half of the existing turf sits in a pile shoved up against the wooden fence that separates the lot from the hospital’s lawn; a mud-encrusted shovel, once leaned up against a post by the entry, now lies across the fence-gap that leads into the lot.

“Oh, Shino!” Sakura perks up from her place near the entrance, brushing dirt from her palms and shaking a stray strand of pink hair from her face. “Did you get that food I gave to your dad? Um, and are you…?”

He enters the lot and looks around, touching the dying leaves of an uprooted mountain asparagus atop a stack of ripped-up bushes. “When did you start this project?”

“Just this morning. I got up early.” She stands and shakes a handful of tiny rocks out of her skirt. “I… Shino, can we sit down for a minute?”

A book lands in her hands with a puff of dust.

“What?”

On the cover is a complicated illustration of a dragonfly wing, dazzling and iridescent, which reflects a woman’s eye. Sakura runs a dusty finger over the raised letters of the cover: Red Sun Chronicle, by an author whose name she can’t begin to pronounce.

Before she can ask any other questions, Shino cuts her off. “I wanted to apologize.” His hands link together across his stomach, fingers gripping into each other, uncharacteristically anxious. “The reason is that I’ve been avoiding you since last Friday.”

“Oh.” She hesitates for a moment before tucking the book under her arm. “Well… I suppose I should apologize too, then. You asked me to stop teasing you, and…”

“... that’s my favorite book,” Shino comments. “I thought you would enjoy it, too.” That pale pink, the color of early spring flowers, decorates his face once again. “If you want to read it, I’d like to discuss it.”

She can feel it. Her smile is dazzling like the sun; it’s the first time she’s felt anything close to beautiful in months.

“Want to come grab a snack with me?”

The sun beats down on Konoha, and they rest in the shade of a tree whose branches peek over the fence from another yard nearby. Beetles crawl over an abandoned convenience-store strawberry; Sakura watches them quietly, leans her shoulder against Shino’s and plays her fingernails along the edge of an empty plastic container, half-buried in the mercifully-untouched patch of grass.

“I needed something to keep my mind off Sasuke,” she whispers. Such a still afternoon demands low voices, and Shino doesn’t question this assessment. “I think about him so often. Maybe he’ll send me a letter today, or tomorrow, or…”  

“Do you think he dream about you?”

It’s not a cruel question, but she feels the characteristic prickle of active tear ducts.

“What the heart thinks and what the mind thinks… two different things, Shino.” She brushes stray dirt from the cover of the book in her lap, following the path of a tiny beetle with her eyes.

Clouds roll across the sun, shading the entire lot in a smooth, grey patch. Shino stands, hesitates, and unbuttons the high collar of his jacket with tentative hands. “You said you bought butterfly bushes, correct?”

“You’re changing the subject,” Sakura says. She climbs to her feet just in time to watch Shino’s jacket crumple to the ground, revealing sweat-damp pale arms, a slim figure, bandages around biceps and rumples in fabric around a narrow waist. “They’re over here. Help me move one, okay?”

Shino looks different when he’s working in a garden. He looks different with muddy hand prints wiped across his shoulder. Strange, how much he hid behind the heavy jacket, how vulnerable he looks now, how out of his element.

But he looks best smiling, exhausted, watching tiny blue butterflies inspect the honey-sweet pink flowers that fill the empty lot.

They pack sod-clumps down as a makeshift grass path through the garden’s center—surely there was an easier way to do this, but Sakura just hopes that Ino won’t stop by the hospital to see the mess they’ve made. Shino scouts worms from the nearby lots, brings them over in handfuls that vanish into the soft dirt around the bush bases. Water gets dumped on sweaty hair, shirts are ruined and mud is forced into the creases of skin.

She laughs. She cries a little, afterwards, and Shino sits beside her with no kind words to offer.

They carry away dead weeds in armfulls. Two soba shops and a barbeque place turn them away via wrinkle-nosed hosts. They eat greasy takeout on the curb and listen for the night birds that migrate between Suna and Konoha.

Sakura reads his book at home. It’s a meandering story with a meaning that’s beyond her. But she puts away a chapter before checking the window for a last midnight hawk.

#shinosaku #shino #sakura #naruto #konoha guide #narutogiftexchange

[girlwiththestories]

Baked Beans

For @persongoingfast, thankful for your dedication to inspiring your fans to strive for success in their academic and social lives

Cyrus rushed through the doors of the diner eager for a glance of Andi and Buffy. He never liked to be late, and it hurt to be late on Andi’s half-birthday of all days. Half birthday celebrations were a long-time Good Hair Crew tradition. It didn’t do for one of them to be missing. He spotted the girls at a table in the back of the room. “You’re late,” Buffy said  when he walked up. “Dental cleaning,” Cyrus said with a nod. “Didn’t you get my text?” "Of course,” Andi said with a smile. “We got it a full fifteen minutes ago. Here, take your party hat.” He sat down next to Buffy and slipped the hat over his head pulling the strap gently under his chin. “And soda,” Buffy added pushing a tall glass his way. “Strawberry, your favorite.” “Thanks,” he said with a grateful smile. He lifted his glass in the air. “To us and the lovely Andi Mack on her half-birthday. May you have a day as amazing as you are.” The toast ended with a bubble blowing contest like it always did. Cyrus’ eyes wandered to Buffy’s glass knowing that she as usual would be the winner.

Letting go of his straw, he cleared his throat. “How does it feel to be thirteen and a half?” he asked. “I’ve always imagined that it would be different somehow.” Buffy glared at him, and he gave her his best smirk. “Except for everything with my…uh… mom and dad, it feels completely normal.” Andi said with a thoughtful look on her face. “Just like every half birthday.” Bummer, Cyrus thought to himself. He had hoped thirteen and a half would be when everything would change for the better. Just then, he spotted the waitress coming with a tray full of food. What a relief! He felt very hungry like he always did after a dentist appointment. This was going to be good. When the waitress set down the tray, he glanced it over and was shocked.  Staring him in the face was a bowl of steaming baked beans! He took one look and shivered. Suddenly, it was August 9, 2011, and he was not in the diner with Andi and Buffy. Instead, he sat across from his mom at the booth of prestigious Boston restaurant. His plate was full with of beans, bread, and asparagus, and the bright light above gave the room a cheery glow. “There’s something I need to tell you, Cyrus,” his mom said. The look on her face was calm, but he could see nervous crinkles in the corners of her eyes. “Your dad and I have decided it would be better for everyone if we separate. It’s not healthy for kids your age to see their parents fighting. Everything will be so much better this way. Your dad is planning to get a house in town, so you’ll still get to see him whenever you want.” Cyrus looked down at his food willing himself to maintain control. He had been expecting this. Parents don’t fight when everything is alright, and the marriage health questionnaires laying around the house had not escaped his notice. In fact, he had been waiting for this news for the past several months. Still, hearing the words outside his head had a profound impact on him. He felt shocked and bewildered wondering when he had lost his grip on life. He had always believed that his life was under his control and anticipating his parents divorce had lead him to think that he would be ready when it came. But instead of prepared, he felt out-of-control even over his own reaction. He hurriedly took a big bite of baked beans hoping to avoid the questions he knew that his mom would ask. “You okay, honey?” his mom asked gently. He looked up quickly and tried to swallow. To his surprise, nothing happened; his throat stayed full. He tried to take a breath only to realize that he couldn’t. He was choking. The seconds felt like hours, and as they passed he couldn’t help believing that he was dying. He had always wondered how he would go, but he would have never imagined going like this—unable to secure the one thing he needed for life. He closed his eyes expecting to collapse in the booth any second. Instead, he felt his mother’s strong arms squeezing his middle. Before he knew what was happening, a bit of bacon came flying into his mouth. He could breath; he was alive. “Poor Cyrus,” his mom said. She took a seat in the booth and pulled him onto her lap for a hug. “Such a brave boy.” She stroked his forehead gently. He savored the warmth of her hug for a moment, but then he stopped himself. No, he didn’t need coddling or babying. He was strong. He was alive. He was fine. “Mom,” he said wiggling off her lap. “I’m okay.” “You sure?” she asked. “Of course,” he said confidently putting on his bravest smile. “Cyrus? You okay?” Andi’s voice instantly brought Cyrus back to the present. “Of course,” he said resolutely unable to lift his stare from the beans. He saw Buffy noting his glance. She put her hand on his shoulder. “We weren’t expecting you to eat the beans, Cyrus. We got macaroni and cheese for you.” She passed him the bowl. Dishing himself a large helping of noodles, he realized that he had to conquer the beans. He couldn’t let himself live with the lingering doubt that he couldn’t control his destiny. He had to take charge. He would take a helping of beans. To Andi and Buffy’s surprise, he grabbed the spoon putting the smallest serving of baked beans on his plate. He took his spoon to his mouth and shoved a small bite of beans in. He swallowed and smiled. He was in control again.

#Cyrus would #Cyrus goodman #persongoingfast #andi mack #andi mack fanfic #andi mack fanfiction #disney channel fanfic