#i’m planning a look for NYC Pride next month
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pinterest has a pin limit. what the actual fuck
#not percico#thats literally gross#let me mass save all the pins in peace#btw if anyone has any makeup ideas for Pride#feel free to suggest them#i’m planning a look for NYC Pride next month#i don’t have an outfit yet so the makeup look is really flexible
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Love For All
Peter Stark-Rogers & Stark-Rogers!reader (twins)
warnings: mentions of drinking/being drunk, pretty fluffy
1.8k+ words
series masterlist
a/n: happy pride month (lol I queued this in february just so I didn’t forget to post it) anyways im bi and pls know my page is a safe space for everyone 💗💜💙
Fluffy piece where Tony and Steve are chosen as the grand marshalls for the pride parade and it becomes a family affair.
“this just in, you all officially have the coolest dads in history!” Tony bellowed as he dramatically entered the common space, Steve right behind him with a plethora of eye rolls.
Right as you were about to protest, Bucky chimed in, “neither of you are my father.”
“with the way I’ve saved your sorry ass? Might as well be.”
“saved my sorry ass? Oh Stevie, have you forgotten who pulled your ass out of every back alley fight you got into? Or have the years 1932 to 1941.”
“I did not start a fight in 1932!” Steve argued back, hands placed firmly on his hips.
“bullshit! 5 years old, playground 2 blocks over, Arthur Williams.”
Steve frowned slightly, “damn I forgot about that.”
Beside you Peter snorted, “you got into a fight when you were 5?”
“Wow darling, you came out of the womb with righteous indignation didn’t you?” Tony added with a small smirk as he moved to rest against the back of the couch.
Steve threw his hands up in defeat, “oh haha laugh it up. Yes I’m old, yes I’m stubborn. Can we please just go back to how we’re cool?”
“Wait before that, back to the ‘not my fathers thing’ does this mean you see yourselves as the team fathers? Because if you’re adopting more people, I want in!” Clint said cheerfully.
“Sorry we capped out at four.”
You stuck your tongue out at Clint with a little ‘ha ha’ because you were mature like that. “anyways… why do you think you are the coolest dads? I wanna get my rebuttal in soon.”
Tony bopped the back of your head playfully as he dropped a very rainbow piece of paper into your lap. Peter instantly leaned into your space to read it. You pushed him back with a shove to the forehead. “relax nerd I’m gonna read it out loud.”
“hurry up I’m getting antsy.” You threw an unimpressed look at Clint who had practically crawled into Bucky’s lap to get closer, not that Bucky minded.
“Chill.” You smoothed out the paper and held it up, “All hail the next Grand Marshals of NYC Pride, Tony Stark and Steve Rogers. We are happy to formally announce the two superheroes and super husbands as our fearless leaders of the float parade this year.”
“That’s the public announcement they put out, turn it over to read the letter they sent us.”
“Dear Mr. Anthony and Steven Stark-Rogers, we are so excited to welcome you into our NYC Pride Parade family. As this year’s appointed Grand Marshals it is both our duty and pleasure to pass the Pride Baton over to you. Included in this letter you will find the rules and expectations of our Grand Marshals, as well as what is permitted for first floats. We would love if you extended this invitation to your entire circle of family and friends to join you in the parade and on your float.”
You put the paper down and tilted your head back to stare at your dad, “you? Grand Marshal? Really?”
“What’s so shocking about that?”
“umm…. You’re old and not cool.”
Bucky sputtered a laugh beside you as Tony bopped you on the head again.
“Was this your way of telling us to come to pride with you?” Peter asked.
Steve shook his head as he flopped into a nearby loveseat, “actually this was our way of telling you that we need your help coming up with ideas for the float and how to decorate it. But of course we want you to join us on the float, we’ll be inviting the rest of the team as well.”
“I’ll help decorate but Bi-derman is making another appearance this year.”
Tony slapped his forehead, “can you take your old suit at least? The paint was a bitch to get off last time.”
Peter rolled his eyes, “the old suit chafes.”
You grimaced, “I hate this conversation.”
“I think you should do a dog themed float, Lucky can be our mascot.”
Bucky sighed, “of course that’s your suggestion.”
“what about the history of pride? Recognizing the Stonewall Riots and the two black transgender females that started it all. Plus then we can also advocate for Black Lives Matter. Make it clear that to support one, you have to support the other. Educate and entertain.”
Tony smiled, “that’s not a bad idea y/n.”
Steve looked at you with hopeful eyes, “are you willing to help organize and coordinate?”
“can I invite friends to help?”
“yes.”
You smiled, “then yes.”
------
“when I said organize and coordinate, I didn’t mean take over the conference room we use regularly for avengers meetings.” Steve said with a deep sigh
“it’s the only one with a vending machine.” MJ helpfully pointed out, taking another large bite of her pizza slice.
“yeah it was the only way to get Clint to sit through meetings without leaving to get food.” Steve explained as he stepped into the room and took in the large array of papers everywhere. The four teenage girls that occupied the room were all busy with one thing or another, looking intense and determined.
MJ snorted, “figures.” Her hand ghosted over the page again, dragging the pencil with it and creating another addition to her sketch.
Steve’s brow furrowed for a moment and he took a step closer to get a better look, “is that me?”
MJ nodded coolly but offered no other explanation. Betty huffed a laugh, “we’re trying to design both you and Mr. Stark crown-like head pieces.”
“crowns?”
You rolled your eyes, “Pops, you really do only hear what you wanna hear. Crown-like head pieces. I know dad would go for a full ass crown but I knew you wouldn’t and we want you two to match.”
Steve studied the photos of celebrities that were projected on the wall. “and that?”
“The 2018 Met Gala. Theme: heavenly bodies. There were a bunch of great head pieces that night, we’re using it for inspiration.” Gwen supplied, “let us know if there’s any you like.”
“I wanna go in a Cardi B direction.” You stated without taking your eyes off your computer screen, you’ve obviously already committed every possible headpiece to memory.
“don’t taint his selection with bias!” Betty cried
MJ waved her off easily, “there’s no way he knows who Cardi B is.”
“thanks for the confidence MJ.” She just smiled cheekily at him.
“I think he should choose something like what Frances McDormand was wearing.” Gwen stated with a small smile
MJ laughed, “as much as I think that would look amazing, there’s no way he’s picking that.”
“who’s this?”
You barely had to glance at the photo to recognize the red and gold dress and of course the iconic headpiece, “Black Lively.”
“Okay well I like that, it’s simple.”
“what about…” Gwen drawled as she typed something and new photo, a larger one, took over the whole wall, “Something like SZA’s?”
Steve took a step back and grimaced slightly, “it’s kinda… big.”
“But if it were smaller?” Gwen pressed politely
“I suppose.” Steve glanced around at the four girls. “You guys have a lot of stuff planned.”
“Oh yeah.” You looked up with a big grin, meeting your dad’s eye. “It’s gonna be great.”
“You’re not designing us costumes too are you?”
“Well Tony specifically said not too and that he already had something planned.” MJ said before eyeing Steve up and down with the critical eye of an artist, “But we could design something if you wanted us too.”
“No, I kinda of already have a plan too.”
You rose a questioning brow, “oh yeah? Please tell me you’re not going to be wearing something boring.”
Steve rolled his eyes at you and obnoxiously bumped his hip into your side as he walked out, “I’m not clueless on how to dress for Pride. Plus, I like dressing up for it, it’s fun. And it’s not something we got to do back then. I’m planning on taking full advantage.” And with that he walked out dramatically and closed the door.
Betty laughed slightly, “ten bucks that he paints the shield.”
Gwen shook his head, “No way. I think he’s gonna wear one of the flags as a cape.”
MJ clicked her tongue, “I know for a fact he’ll be wearing his ‘trans rights are human rights’ shirt.” Pause. “and probably his rainbow pants.”
You looked at MJ with a perplexed expression, “why do you know about my dad’s rainbow pants?”
MJ smirked slightly, “he wore them to pride a few years ago. Plus, me and peter talk about things. You’re not the only Stark-Rogers twin I hang out with.”
Gwen obnoxiously nudged Betty with her elbow and a large wink, “Oh yeah… she talks to Peter.” MJ scowled at the two as you snickered behind your hand.
MJ grumbled slightly, “let’s just get back to work.” It was silent in the room until the three other girls heard MJ mumble, “I never have to deal with this at college.”
You burst into a fit of laughter.
------
Pride was without a doubt a 100% success.
The float looked great. The area had already been swept for trouble. One Grand Marshal was moderately drunk. And Everyone was dancing and partying. Perfect.
Even the float attendees looked great. Clint was the brightest of the all. With no shirt on, glitter all over his chest, a rainbow tutu around his hips, tight purple booty shorts underneath, knee high socks with the pan pride flag on them, plus his signature purple converse… he looked good.
You’ve been snickering every time you catch Bucky not so subtlety looking Clint up and down. But that being said, Clint was doing the same to Bucky because he had someone managed to get the stoic and whiney super soldier into a rainbow button down. Nothing else, as that wasn’t Bucky’s jam. He paired the shirt with simple jeans but you were sure that he would be covered with glitter later.
Peter had been swinging around the parade, his first Stark suit now painted a vibrant pink, purple, and blue. Plus there was a large, messily painted on heart over where the spider sat in the middle of his chest.
You and all your friends had taken up the dance floor on the float, and if you said so yourself, you all were killing the dance moves.
Tony was more than tipsy because Bruce was on babysitting duty tonight for Morgan, so he let himself go and lean heavily against his husband, who just grinned at him all lovingly.
In the end, it was a good day. You threw beads and candy to the crowd, joining them at times for drinks and dance parties. You laughed endlessly with your friends and your family. And yeah… it was a good day.
Plus, all your friends had been correct.
Steve wore his trans shirt in solidarity with the ongoing movements and the float.
He wore his rainbow pants because they were “super fashionable y/n” and to support everyone.
He painted his shield purple, blue, and pink to show off his own sexuality and support Peter.
And he had a pansexual flag tied around his neck to match with Tony’s pink, yellow, and blue shirt.
He looked great.
#marvel#spiderman#reader#peter stark rogers#peter parker#superfamily#reader insert#peter parker & reader#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker imagine#superfamily fanfiction#superfamily imagine#reader fanfiction#reader imagine#marvel fanfiction#marvel imagine#stark!reader#stark-rogers!reader#emma writes
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9 or 48 for the dialogue prompts :)
Hi hi! I love your writing!!! Thank you for the prompt!
(I’m a sucker for domestic Kastle, hope you are too!)
9. “You’re in love with her.” [ao3]
--
It’s been nearly a year since anyone has recognized Frank Castle in public and he’s gotten pretty lax about it. Not completely, of course. He’s never been a man who relaxes or startles easily; his military background commands otherwise. In fact, most days he can still scan a room and determine the threat level between one blink and the next, but now he finds he doesn’t have to. It’s been a year and a half since he was pardoned and given his new identity. He wears a beard again. He’s let his hair grow out into the thick curls his mother always used to love before he buzzed it all off. His wardrobe consists of flannels and sweaters, and his combat boots have retired to the back of his closet. For all intents and purposes, Frank Castle is gone and Pete Castiglione has taken his place.
And what a place it is, he thinks. A couple feet away in her blue jeans and NYC shirt Karen is bent over, searching through the grocery store clearance bins. Like always, as soon as he lays eyes on her his entire body lights up. They’ve been casually dating for a few months now and every day feels like stolen time; the universe has never been so kind as to grant him a good thing for as long as he likes. But stolen time or not, he’s taking every moment of it. He spends the majority of his free time with her now, and she seems more than happy to accommodate his clinginess--which brings him to now, at a small grocery on the opposite side of town, watching as Karen stocks up for the week.
You have to go early Saturday morning, she’d coached him on the way over. They mark everything down Friday nights, and then just throw it all in clearance tubs. That’s where half my spices come from.
So here he is, forearms braced on their shopping cart as she digs through layers of marked down crap with the single minded focus that he’s come to associate with her. Her hair is in a long plait down her back and while he watches she holds up a large canister of coffee, throwing him a cheerful look before diving back in. Frank grins back at her, but she’s already elbow deep in the bins before she sees. He learned fairly quickly to stay out of the way and let her do her thing.
“You’re in love with her.”
The voice comes from his elbow, and a sharp glance over and down reveals a tiny older woman, no taller than his sternum. She’s got a full head of thick silver hair that curls in bouncy ringlets. Glasses eclipse the whole of her face; she’s dressed warmly for the time of year (Frank himself in just a tshirt and jeans) and her wrinkled face is peering up at him in both amusement and exasperation.
“Pardon me, ma’am?” he questions, baffled.
“That woman there. You’re in love with her. Right?”
He’s not proud of it, but Frank glances back at Karen with a panicked expression before he can stop himself. However, she’s elbow deep in a clearance batch of vitamins and isn’t listening. He looks back at the woman, relieved. It’s a big declaration and not one he takes lightly. The last thing he wants is for someone else to tell her.
“Yes ma’am,” he says carefully.
The woman turns to fix him with another amused look. “Does she know that?”
This conversation is rapidly veering towards too personal. He tenses. “No, she doesn’t.”
She sighs. “Thought so. Young man, would you be willing to walk an old woman around a grocery store?”
In no universe can Frank turn down an old woman, nosy or otherwise. He takes the basket from her arm, glances back at Karen, and then takes a turn with the woman. She’s funny, once she’s done dissecting his love life. Smart as a tack, too, and commanding of respect. She hobbles around on her cane and points at objects for Frank to fill the basket with, and then once they’ve cashed out and he’s loaded her trunk, she turns to him.
“Tell her you love her,” she says without preamble just as Frank is trying to figure out how to say goodbye to someone he wasn’t planning on meeting. “When I was a young woman I let someone think I didn’t, and I’ve regretted it ever since. When you get to be my age, you ruminate--and I’ve done my fair share. I would hate to see a young couple miss out on that. Don’t let your pride or your past get in the way of something good.”
He helps her into her vehicle, stooping down to nod at her. “I’ll keep that in mind, ma’am. Thank you.”
“No, thank you, Mr. Castle.” She laughs at his shuttered, shocked expression. Frank scrambles for something to say for the hundredth time in the last twenty minutes, but the words fail him. She doesn’t seem to mind. The wrinkles around her eyes jumble up with her smile. “I think after what you have done for this city, it is your turn to find some happiness. I read all about what happened to you, and it’s a damn shame. Now go, I’m sure that woman is looking for you. Best not keep her waiting any longer.”
Frank nods, too speechless to speak, and then stands for a long moment watching her drive away. It’s not until her car has disappeared from view that he realizes he never got her name, and now he’s likely to never see her again. The thought gives him an odd pang, prompting him to turn and reenter the store. It takes a moment to find Karen, and when he does she’s amongst the wine bottles.
“Oh there you are,” she says absently, peering at the shelves. “I’m thinking lasagna for dinner. How does a Merlot sound?”
The words have barely left her mouth before he’s claimed her lips, right there in the middle of the store. He wraps her up in his arms, pours all of the love and admiration that he can into the kiss. He’s strangely emotional from his interaction with the woman and even more so at the idea that he could let Karen go on any longer without knowing how he really feels. When he finally pulls away, Frank cradles her face in his hands and stares into her confused gaze.
“I love you,” he rasps, not the least bit concerned about who hears or sees what’s happening in aisle six. Right now it’s just him and Karen and she’s beaming at him, clutching at his wrists.
“I know, honey. I love you too--so much that I’m not going to question where you went or why you’re telling me now.” She laughs, still flushed pink from the kiss. “Now, Merlot or Cab? I’m not letting you drink Rose with lasagna.”
Frank chuckles. “Whatever you pick is fine.”
She ends up going with the Merlot, but when she slips a Rose into the basket when she thinks he’s not looking, Frank can only smile and take her hand.
He’ll keep stealing time with her, as long as she lets him.
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Ghosting You -- Chapters 10 and 11
by myself and the late @von--gelmini
Ghosting You -- Chapters 10 and 11
my amazing art by @mrstarksbaby
The Previous Chapters Are He
Chapter 10: Tony – Coming Of Age
Tony listened to FRIDAY’s report about Peter. He didn’t listen to the conversation itself. He didn’t listen to Peter’s voice. That would be too much.
“He’s questioning himself,” she says. “He’s afraid he’s not… worthy.”
“That’s good. He’s coming of age. He should have half a million questions about himself and his place in the world every day. It’s what your late teens and 20s are for,” he chuckled, remembering his.
But then he frowned, also remembering his late teens and 20s and how he fell face first into a mountain of cocaine and other drugs and drink. Peter was headed to be more like him than Tony wanted. ‘I wanted you to be better.’ The words he’d said to him on the rooftop echoed in his mind. That tendency he’d have to monitor closely. Find some way to stop him. Maybe just having FRIDAY to talk to would help. Until he got off his ass and decided if — how — he would make his return.
Chapter 11: Peter – It Does Not Do Well To Dwell On Dreams
“You’re up, kid.”
Peter moaned and cringed inside the dream. Knowing it was a dream didn’t stop him from moaning. Didn’t stop his heart from pounding. Didn’t stop his cock from getting hard.
He did a triple somersault and landed effortlessly on the side of the wall. Not that it mattered. He bullseyed the fire hydrant and tossed it aside easily, sending up a torrent of water creating a world of steam. Not that that mattered. The elemental punched the wall and he jumped aside. He tried to jump out of the dream, tried to jump to safety. But of course he couldn’t. He knew this dream. It had to happen the same way, no matter how much he hated it.
“No, Beck! He’s got the carousel! He’s getting bigger!” he was shouting now (he wanted to shout something else. Something along the lines of “Liar!” and “Thief!” and a few other things that wouldn’t make sense to anyone else but him. But the dream soldiered on mercilessly.)
Now Quentin was flying in front of him, “saving” him from the elemental, asking “Go to plan B?” (or, “That hurt him, keep ‘em comin’”) in that breathless, urgent way that made Peter’s entire body hard with pride and longing. As if they were really partners. As if they were really equals. As if it weren’t all a scam.
Then the horrible part, the part Peter never wanted to see again. If he could have cut out part of his brain to prevent THAT part of the dream, he would have. The part where Quentin was down on the ground and Peter, the moron, thought the man was actually hurt. That the man might actually die. His stomach sinking, his heart racing, he, and rushed to the man’s side. Shouting “Mr. Beck! Mr. Beck!” like the naïve child he was.
Peter cringed at the memory, but even then, he didn’t try to wake himself up. Not yet. And then that part of the dream was over and Peter was desperately trying to wake himself up. Before the next part.
Before the dirty part.
The dream was skipping over Nick Fury’s roll, and that was a mercy. Sometimes the dream did that, cut out all the middle men, all the minor characters. It was only him and Quentin now, looking at each other through the smoke, through the haze. Fury had said something, something vague, something unpleasant, something about the future. Then he faded into the fuzzy edges of the dream, leaving Peter and Quentin alone. And Quentin stood. And there it was…. Quentin’s hand on his shoulder. Quentin’s hand brushing, for just for a ghost of a second, the side of his face.
Then the words… “Let’s get a drink.”
And now he was fighting it, fighting to wake up, because this is where the memory always ended. This is where the dream always launched into the fantasy.
Sometimes Quentin led him back to a hidden place in SHIELD headquarters. Sometimes it was his own secret headquarters. Sometimes a gateway that took them right back to Quentin’s universe and sometimes it was just the nearest alleyway where Quentin pushed him up against the wall. Usually their outfit disappeared magically… although sometimes Peter’s suit refused to come off leaving him embarrassed and frustrated. Sometimes Quentin mumbled something about the memory of his dead wife in between kissing Peter fiercely, but most of the time he said nothing at all (except for those times he made Peter’s spine light up like a Christmas tree by whispering “kid” but Peter couldn’t admit to those times.) Every time it was rough. Every time Peter gave himself to Quentin’s powerful arms (he was stronger than Quentin, so much stronger, but oh it felt so good to let someone else be strong for a while.) Every time he let Quentin push into him hot and dirty (sometimes teasing him, leaning forward to growl into his ear or turning around to look him in the eye. “Is that all you’ve got, Beck?”) Every time they went far too fast, too desperate, for Quentin to ever guess that it was Peter’s first time...
Peter shook himself, almost shouted himself awake. This time he succeeded, opening his eyes in his dark bedroom before the real action began. He bit his lip hard to keep quiet, trying not to wake the sleeping household. He congratulated himself, even as he leapt out of the bed and tore himself free of the tangled covers. Congratulated himself on getting free of the dream in time. He couldn’t always do it, but it felt good when he did. It was absurd, but it still felt great. To leave that dream-Quentin behind, alone and frustrated. The idea of the man in that dream, standing alone facing the hideout/hotel/alley wall, surprised and blinking and confused as hell when Dream-Peter disappeared.
Real-Peter did what he always did after these dreams. He went to the kitchen to wash his face and neck with cold water, making sure he was well awake before taking care of himself. He felt no shame, taking care of himself after a dream like that. As long as he was completely awake.
As long as he wasn’t thinking about Quentin.
Back in his room he found himself looking out his window wistfully, gazing at the sleeping city. Dammit, there were a lot of people out there. It seemed ridiculous, at this moment, that he was alone. But he WAS alone. He searched his mind for a nice fantasy, something decidedly anti-Quentin, as his hand found its way into his pajama bottoms.
As he gazed out upon the dark buildings he realized what it was going to be, and he smiled as he did. Leaning his forehead against the glass he closed his eyes and smiled, welcoming back an old fantasy like a long-lost friend.
It had been so innocuous, so random. It had been a perfectly normal moment in a perfectly normal day. Tony had walked up to the window to look down on NYC and said something random about a building he had worked in once... Peter couldn’t even remember the comment.
It came to him so suddenly, so completely. A fantasy in technicolor - it was crystal clear, high definition. He could hear the bloody soundtrack. It hit him so suddenly he had to beat a hasty retreat... had to get alone where he could enjoy his fantasy in private.
The fantasy where Tony had him hard and leaking facing the window. Maybe it was dark, no one could see him (a good thing, Tony had him completely naked.) Or maybe it was broad daylight. Maybe Tony was showing him off.
Tony was pressing in slowly and sweetly, working his enormous cock into Peter’s tight, near-virgin body. It was slow and rhythmic and perfect.
“Have you ever done it up against a window, sweet Petie?” he would growl, smiling that devilish smile, because he knew the answer.
“You know I haven’t,” Peter would reply, turning to look him in the eye, to look him steadily in the eye. It had been such a chore, looking him straight in the eye… but that was the old days. The 15-years-old days. The never-could-stop-talking-when-I’m-nervous days. The before-manhood days. These days would be different…
...because HE WAS 21 DAMMIT yes of course those ‘blipped’ years did most certainly count!!
He hadn’t taken that daydream very far when he was younger - it didn’t seem right. Tony couldn’t have wanted him then, not like that. It felt wrong to fantasize about it without Tony’s permission, so he just didn’t take it there. But he was older now. He was taking it there now.
Tony’s hands would be on his waist just like they had been in the lab - only he wasn’t of age then, so Tony had been polite. Tony wasn’t polite now. He guided Peter’s body directly where he wanted it to be and did exactly what he wanted to do. Sometimes those fingers dug in hard, sometimes because Tony was losing control, sometimes because Tony wanted to assert dominance. (Sometimes Peter would tease him, leaning back to whisper ‘You can’t leave bruises there Tony, sorry.)
Tony praised him the same way he did in the lab and, just like in the lab, Peter’s skin glowed and his heart pounded at the words. And of course Tony wouldn’t say anything horrible like they did in those awful videos... wouldn’t call him a slut or a whore or make him feel bad because he wanted it or because he was taking it so well... and he was taking it well... yes he was inexperienced but for Tony he would do anything, absolutely anything...
When he was finished he poked at his computer silently until the hour was decent enough for a shower.
For the rest of the day he did what he always did now, nothing. He napped and fucked around on his computer and killed time until nightfall. May warned him that summer wouldn’t last forever and he had a long list of things to do before starting Columbia, but Peter wasn’t sure she was right. Maybe the month of August, like Mysterio and the Elementals he fought, were all just illusions. All that mattered to him now was the coming nightfall, when he could wrap up in a blanket and lay on a pillow and listen to FRIDAY read the old emails.
It was all he had done for three days. No more patrolling, no more stressing out about the drugs. Just hearing and re-hearing all those old conversations, over and over again. He could do this for the rest of his life, couldn’t he? Just reliving and re-reliving those conversations again. Conversations about tech and suit-updates and vibranium discoveries and ridiculous jokes and more tech.
“It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that.” Dumbledore had once told Harry Potter and when Peter had first read that book he had thought it was ridiculous. He was much younger than Harry Potter, and he never gave much thought to his dead parents. Only now he could see the danger that Dumbledore was describing. He didn’t want to do Spider-Man’s job and he certainly didn’t want to do Peter Parker’s job. He wanted to sit in his beautiful new car and dwell on dreams.
Tonight they started out with the month of June. This would be a particularly long sesion, Peter knew, because they had talked a LOT in June. FRIDAY was only 3 emails in when she read something that made Peter’s blood run cold.
First she read the date and the time, as always. Then she started reading the text.
//Remember when I pointed out the security from the top of the Mein-Vol building, where they run the gin business? The original idea had been drones programmed for a flat radial sweep, but for the suit I thought - what if…///
Peter fought his way out of the tangle of the blanket the same way he had fought his way out of the tangle of bedsheets. He leapt from the car the same way he had leapt out of bed. He didn’t explain to FRIDAY, he didn’t say anything at all. The doors were locked and he was headed back up to his apartment before he gave himself any time to think at all.
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The Last Slide: Ch. 3
@feeisamarshmallow dun dun dunnn number threee
Read on ao3
_______________
Chapters: 1 2 3 4
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There was a bounce in her step as Amy walked away, leaving Jake to finish his paperwork. When Holt had given her the green light to work the water park murder case with Jake, she saw the slight twitch around the corners of his mouth and noticed that the parting nod he gave when he dismissed her from his office was just a little bit slower and more significant than usual. This was a personal gift to her for the many years she’d worked for and bonded with him.
Then the mere excitement in her husband’s eyes as she told him about the case added an extra layer of levity to her enthusiasm. Seeing him so happy never failed to make her smile and believe that the world was inherently good, despite the people who shot poisoned darts into someone’s neck at the water park.
And just after noon, when business at the apartment would be done, they’d leave to work their last case together, at least while working at the same precinct. It should have made her sad, knowing it would soon be over, but the thing was, it would not be over. She was still going to see everyone from the precinct regularly, Jake obviously the most. It didn’t feel like a real goodbye as long as she only switched locations. Her new precinct wasn’t even that far away, close enough to meet up for lunch.
(Maybe she was a little bit in denial about everything, but she’d find that out soon enough anyway. For now, gloomy wasn’t a real word in Amy Santiago’s vocabulary.)
Humming contentedly to herself, she entered the women’s bathroom – and did a double-take at the juxtaposition of a familiar leather jacket and the red-rimmed eyes staring at her wide-eyed through the mirror.
“Rosa?” she exclaimed in surprise. “Are you… crying?”
“No,” Rosa sniffed in a gruff reply. “I’m allergic.” When she turned around to face Amy, an understanding passed between the women. Rosa knew that Amy knew that allergies weren’t involved in the detective crying in the women’s bathroom at work. Especially after Rosa had come in late this morning.
“Do you want to talk about those allergies?”
“No.” Rosa pulled a pair of sunglasses from her pocket and put them on to hide the red eyes, brushing past Amy to the door. On the threshold, however, she hesitated, then tilted her head at Amy without looking at her directly. “I know you’re not going to leave this alone, so… If you want to help me with these allergies, be at my place tonight at eight.”
Then she left, head held high, and Amy felt a second wave of giddy excitement wash over her. A few years back, Rosa would have left without a word – well, except for the threat to ruin Amy’s life if she ever mentioned those allergies to anyone. Now Rosa was one of her best friends and Amy knew that she felt the same about her. Whatever was going on with her sleuth sister, they were going to take care of it together. Because that’s what friends did.
(Part of Amy hoped the reason for her sleuth sister’s turmoil wasn’t just Rosa’s favorite motorcycle being too old for full repairs or something, although she’d take even that seriously if Rosa felt this passionate about it.)
(Because that’s what friends did.)
***
Of all the things Amy expected when entering Rosa’s apartment that night, it wasn’t a miniature tiger dashing behind the couch the moment it spotted her.
“Wait,” Amy said as she took off her jacket, “was that…?”
“Her name is Tigress. She’s been living behind the dumpster outside for the last three weeks. She killed the rats; I gave her food.”
“Oh. So, you have a cat now?”
Rosa crossed her arms and leaned against the kitchen counter, a grim look on her face. “Tigress decided so, but then I saw a flyer for a missing cat and I’m sure it’s her. Also, pets aren’t allowed in the building. Naturally, I’m thinking about moving and just taking her with me.”
Amy peaked behind the couch. The cat was sitting there in the shadows, cleaning her gray-striped fur. Upon noticing the curious human eyes invading her privacy, Tigress hissed at her and crawled underneath the couch.
“She hates people,” Rosa explained. “We understand each other.”
“But now you have to give her back to her owner.”
Rosa grunted in reply and Amy didn’t acknowledge the heartbroken look on her face. “I don’t want to get into it right now, but… I just don’t like goodbyes when I don’t want to say them. It’s so…”
The word weak ghosted around the room, tailed by human. But if Rosa didn’t want to talk about feelings right now, there was no reason to prod. It would only lead to the night ending prematurely.
Amy walked over and carefully extended a hand, putting it on Rosa’s arm once she’d made no attempt to hiss at her or crawl underneath the couch and– yeah, Amy could guess why this cat was the perfect fit for Rosa.
“Besides, Arlo wouldn’t like smelling cat on me.”
“Arlo?” Amy frowned in confusion for a moment until she remembered. “Oh right, your dog that you never bring.” (Not that Amy would have seen much of him anyway, what with her own allergies closing up her throat and turning her eyes into puffy seas of tears within seconds.) “Wait, where is he anyway if you’re not allowed to keep pets here?”
Rosa shrugged. “Guarding my second apartment.”
“Your second– You know what, never mind.” A secret apartment really didn’t surprise her. “How can I be of help? Do you want me to accompany you to the shelter to pick out a new cat?” Even as she said it, she figured that wasn’t Rosa’s plan.
“I don’t want a replacement cat.” Rosa glanced over at the pair of glowing eyes watching them from out of their hiding spot. “I’d like you to come with me to return Tigress. I don’t want to do it alone.”
Amy felt a surge of sympathy for Rosa Diaz asking for emotional support without a lot of preamble. (And maybe a fair bit of pride at being the one the tough woman felt safe to confide in.)
“Of course.” She gave her friend’s arm a little squeeze. “Anything.”
“Thanks, Amy. Now stop touching me and help me catch the cat.”
***
The second surprise of the night came in the form of Tigress’ owner.
As Amy held the cat carrier that Rosa had bought at the nearest pet smart when they realized the cat was too fast and unwilling to stay in either their arms for longer than five seconds, Rosa knocked on the door to Rebecca Erickson’s apartment.
At first, Amy thought the woman’s last name to be a coincidence. It was possible, after all, to encounter two unrelated people with the same last name within one day in New York City.
But when Mrs. Erickson insisted that she was no longer a Mrs. since she left her husband a few months ago, Amy saw the probability dwindling that this woman wasn’t the ex-wife of the pool attendant she and Jake had met earlier that day. She decided to not mention Darius or anything related to the Pearson murder.
She was so lost in thought that she didn’t notice the fourth person in the apartment until she heard a soft curse from the direction of what she assumed was the bedroom.
She also barely took note of the general messiness of the place, starting with the array of empty coffee cups on a heavily stained couch table, or the bookshelves where cookbooks lay on top of fantasy novels and at least half the books stood upside-down, or the bowl of fruits where apples were lying right next to bananas, or the overturned basket of – as far as she could tell – both clean and dirty laundry next to the bedroom door.
And standing there, clad in a hastily overthrown bathrobe, was none other than Sam Kirkwell, head of Tropic Thunder Aqua Park. When he realized that Amy had noticed him, he quickly disappeared behind the door.
Why was Kirkwell here, she wondered with furrowed brows, with his employee’s ex-wife, the same day her supposed lover had been killed?
She barely heard Rosa talking to Ms. Erickson, too occupied with contemplating following Kirkwell into the bedroom to question him. But before she could come to a decision, Tigress – whose actual name was Bubblegum, much to Rosa’s dismay – escaped through the open window onto the fire escape. Ms. Erickson rushed to the window to scream after her but, naturally, the cat didn’t listen to the crazy woman yelling at her from the place she’d just escaped.
Ms. Erickson, now in a frantic hurry to go after her pet, pushed Amy and Rosa out of the door and left them in the hallway while dashing down the stairs, her voice echoing back up to them. “Bubblegum! Mommy’s coming for you!”
“What do you bet the cat turns up back in my dumpster later?” Rosa asked, a hint of smug amusement coating her voice, when they exited the building.
“Yeah, totally…”
“Santiago, did you even hear what I just said?”
“Huh?”
Rosa stood in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. “What’s going on?”
Amy frowned in thought and fished her phone from her pocket. “Did you see the man hiding in the other room upstairs?”
“The half-naked guy? I bet that’s her surrogate pet.”
“He’s the head of the water park where Jake and I are investigating a murder.”
Rosa shrugged. “Turns out NYC isn’t that big after all. Why, what’s got you so suspicious about this?”
Amy explained it to her while dialing Jake’s number. She couldn’t wait to get home, she needed to tell him now. If he hadn’t already picked up Mac from Karen and Roger’s place, they could still go back upstairs and talk to Kirkwell.
She let it ring for twenty seconds but Jake didn’t pick up. Maybe he was driving, maybe he was busy with Mac, maybe his phone was dead again – no, it couldn’t be, otherwise she’d have instantly reached his voice mailbox. She opened their messages to shoot him a quick text to call her back ASAP, but before she could press send, something struck her as odd.
“What is it?” Rosa asked, having noticed the look on Amy’s face.
“Jake hasn’t been online for over two hours.”
“Huh.” Rosa looked at the screen. “He’s not with Mac?”
Amy shook her head right as a message from Karen came in, asking when they’d be picking up their son. For anyone knowing her husband, him not being on his phone for this long on a regular weekday night when he was neither working nor spending time with his family was a little odd. Not impossible, but odd.
(If this were Gina, Amy would be very concerned.)
“He’s probably still at the old apartment,” she guessed. “I’ll go there and tell him about Kirkwell directly.”
“Do you want me to come with?”
“If you want company right now, of course.”
Rosa scrunched up her face in contemplation for a moment. “Nah, I’m good. I’ll just spend some time with Arlo.”
“At your secret apartment?” Amy grinned conspiratorially but Rosa took a step closer until they were almost nose to nose, putting on her threatening face.
“Tell anyone about that and I’ll disorganize every single one of your binders.”
Amy gulped. “Got it.”
Rosa drove them back to her place where Amy’s car was parked. As Amy was waving goodbye from behind the wheel, Rosa pointed at the alley next to her building. Sure enough, a gray little tiger was slinking into the alley through the shadows.
Seemed like the cat had decided where it wanted to live, Amy thought as she set out for her and Jake’s old apartment. When she arrived, she knocked on the door since she didn’t have a key for the place anymore.
“Jake? Are you there?” She knocked again. “Mr. Davies?”
She received no answer. Obviously, Jake and their landlord were long gone. The appointment for the keys had been almost three hours ago.
But when she tried calling him again, he still didn’t pick up, and the last online time stamp hadn’t changed, either.
Maybe he was with Charles, she thought, but after a quick call, that turned out to be a dead end. The same with Terry. Where the heck was her husband?
She finally pulled up the app that allowed her to see the location of his phone. She rarely used it since she always felt like a controlling wife when she did, but this time, she figured she was allowed to track him down like this.
Weird. According to the GPS data, he was at the water park. And as she walked back outside and scanned the street, his car wasn’t even here. What was he doing at the closed water park at this hour? And if it was case-related, why hadn’t he told her? He couldn’t have gone there to meet with Kirkwell, either, because that guy was currently being gross with Darius’ ex-wife. (Or not, depending on how Ms. Erickson was taking the loss of her pet for the second time.)
Her gut rumbled with suspicion. She had a weird feeling about this. So she got back in her car and drove all the way to Tropic Thunder.
And there it was, Jake’s old piece of junk of a car, alone on the huge parking lot. She glanced inside and saw his wallet, phone, and keys on the passenger seat. She tried the door. It wasn’t locked.
Suddenly, she felt the darkness of the parking lot creeping up behind her back, raising the hairs on her arms, the nearby traffic too far away to be comforting. Something was wrong here.
“Jake?” she called into the night. “Jake!”
The only one answering her was the wind rustling through a heap of old flyers on the ground, lifting some of them and carrying them across the asphalt. The water park itself was closed, of course, the only light in the building coming from the display windows next to the main entrance.
“Hello?” Again, no one answered. Jake wasn’t here. But why was his car? Moreover, why was it unlocked, with valuable possessions just lying there openly on the seat?! Messy as her husband might be, this wasn’t at all like him.
The knots in her stomach tightened as she dialed the number of their landlord. He picked up after the fourth ring, but it felt like an eternity.
“Hi, Mr. Davies. This is Amy Santiago. I’m sorry to call you at this hour but I am looking for my husband and I have not heard from him ever since he went to meet with you earlier. And I was wondering if he mentioned anything about where he was going or if he was meeting anyone later.”
“Well, no, I’m sorry” the old man on the other end of the line replied, the usually comforting effect of his gentle voice dead to Amy’s ears this time. “After we handled everything with the keys, he asked to stay a few minutes by himself, to say one last goodbye or something.”
“Can you tell me what time he left at?”
“No, I went to run a few errands while he was at the apartment and when I came back to lock up, he was gone and the apartment dark.”
Amy could hear her heart pounding in her chest. She now knew Jake had been with Mr. Davies, but she had absolutely no further lead. It unsettled her greatly.
After ending the call, she took a few minutes to breathe. No need to panic, she told herself. He was probably fine and there was a simple explanation for all this. Her gut didn’t believe her, though.
She needed answers. And she already had an idea about where to start. Taking Jake’s personal things with her and locking his car, she got back into her own, and made her way back into the city.
Back to Ms. Erickson and her secret lover.
***
Once again, it’s pain that rises him.
After a long moment, it subsides enough for him to find himself bound to a chair, zip ties cutting into his wrists and ankles. His body wants to curl into itself from the sharp tug in his stomach and his mouth tastes metallic.
He blinks his eyes open and realizes that the left one feels hot and swollen. That’s probably why he woke up this time.
The shimmers in front of his eyes are back and it’s hard to focus on the person hovering over him. He makes out words but they are slow to reach his brain. He makes the mistake of shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. Everything instantly blurs and he’s glad about the ties holding him to the arms and legs of the chair. He feels like throwing up.
Two hands reach out and shake the chair, drops of saliva landing on his face as the other person yells at him. Jake squints into the bright little light and finally understands it’s coming from a headlamp fastened to the person’s forehead.
It’s a man. The shape of his face is familiar. Jake’s ears stop ringing and he hears the voice properly now.
A particularly fast brain cell registers the familiarity, but the information doesn’t quite get through to his other cells yet.
His nose picks up the smell from earlier, his eyes scan the unfamiliar chair he’s sitting in, but the floor underneath finally breaks through the haze in his brain.
He knows. He knows where he is.
He knows the man tightly clutching a pocketknife in his hand, although the disturbingly angry expression is new.
Jake feels his breath come in a quickening pace as he fully comes to and the realization hits him at full speed.
He never left the apartment.
#b99fandomevents#b99 summer 2021 fic exchange#b99#the last ride#b99 fic#peraltiago#jake x amy#sleuth sisters#jake peralta#amy santiago#rosa diaz#maja writes
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new york’s very own NESSA LOCKE was spotted on broadway street in 𝓳𝓲𝓶𝓶𝔂 𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓸 𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓪 𝓯𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓪𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓵 𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓼 . your resemblance to kylie jenner is unreal . according to tmz , you just have your twenty two birthday bash . while living in nyc , you’ve been labeled as being finicky , but also alluring . i guess being a scorpio explains that . 3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be expensive diamonds clinging to delicate fingers , makeup swatches on tan skin , & wine induced giggles .
GREETINGS , cuties . i’m gi , 9teen , and go by she and her pronouns . i kind of suck at introductions ? so please excuse all of the rambling and unnecessary comments that are throughout this . nessa is kind of my baby ? so im super super excited to bring her into this group and play her once again and even more excited to write with all of you !!!!!! everything you need to know about her is under the cut , and if you want to plot please give this a heart and we can do so ( or message me on discord , 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐛𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐲#1776 )
* basics
FULL NAME. nessa ryan locke .
NAME MEANING. pure , holy ; butterfly .
REASONING. it was suppose to be vanessa but somehow ended up being just nessa by the time she was actually born .
NICKNAMES. ness , nessy .
PREFERRED NAME. ness and/or nessa .
BIRTH DATE. november third , nineteen ninety eight .
AGE. twenty two .
ZODIAC. scorpio .
GENDER. cis female .
PRONOUNS. she and her .
SEXUAL ORIENTATION. heterosexual .
CURRENT LOCATION. moved to new york city at the age of nineteen , ( click here to see her residence ) .
PLACE OF BIRTH. los angeles , california .
HOMETOWN. los angeles , california .
FATHER. jared locke , actor .
MOTHER. jillian locke , former model .
SIBLINGS. nirvana locke , emerson locke .
BIRTH ORDER. youngest .
PETS. wolfie , husky .
HAIR COLOR. originally a black color , though it tends to go from black to a light brown and/or a blonde color .
EYE COLOR. brown , but she takes pride in the small specks of green .
DOMINANT HAND. right .
HEIGHT. five ft six .
TATTOOS. nessa has five tattoo’s all together , the first one being something that resembles the fire emoji on her right inner hip she got with her group of friends . she has a rose on the left side of her boob , which she got strictly because she thought it was pretty . she has two butterflies behind her left ear , a smiley face on her right upper butt cheek , and finally the words , ‘ take care ‘ tattooed on her right arm .
PIERCINGS. she has five holes on her right ear and seven holes on her left ear .
DRUGS / ALCOHOL / SMOKING. no ( beside smoking weed here and there ) , yes , no .
SOUNDTRACK. self care , mac miller . angel , the weeknd . fetish , selena gomez . bitter , fletcher . july , noah cyrus . bad news , kehlani . after hours , the weeknd . needy , ariana grande . save myself , ed sheeran . p*$$y fairy , jhene aiko . girls in the hood , megan thee stallion .
AESTHETICS. emerald hues forming into a distant memory , soft laughter in the dead of the night , luxurious material clinging to honeyed skin , tired hues , the glow of neon lights lightening up a dark room .
LINKS. here’s her pinterest !!
FUN FACTS. she has a three year old husky , whom she treats as though she carried him around for nine months . she has a obsession with acrylic nails , you will always find her with something different every two weeks . she always has her toes painted , usually baby something baby pink , baby blue . she enjoys switching up her look which includes hair changes whether it be sporting a wig or actually dyeing it . has a talent of painting but normally doesn’t have the time or inspiration to do so . a music bug , she has to be listening to tunes if she’s cleaning , cooking , bathing ... hates the gym more then anything but has a personal trainer ( she spends most of the time avoiding ) to kick her ass in shape . rarely diets and with this she has a bad habit of eating whatever her body craves . she loves waffle fries , and prefers a burger over a chicken sandwich . she hates neon green , don’t fight her on this . she’s a bit of a car junkie and constantly purchases them despite not needing to . her worst habit is online shopping , she will spend thousand of dollars at ONE store .
* background .
stranded at the age of five , a stuffed elephant in hand and confusion lingering on skin . only small glimpses of heart felt moments to ease the tears . one moment she was there , and the next she somehow slipped through the cracks . not even the power of hollywood being able to track down the angelic emerald hued model . instead , her father had to wrap his arms around his three children and fabricate a story that would not shatter their delicate hearts . but the damage was already done .
drenched in sovereignty and affluence , the privilege of being privilege had always been a reality , even before the disappearance of her mother . a celebrity child , grew up in the spotlight and had ears filled with comments from millions who did not know her . not a sob story , unless you considered her mommy issues . inherited her father’s ambition and her mom’s trust issues . started branding herself at the age of seventeen , a trend setter . the title of social media personality was granted to nessa before it was even a thing , and she did not stop there . ventured into the beauty industry , building an empire from top to bottom . and eventually even created a fashion line with her older sister , even after all the red warnings .
but the finer things in life did not come with all blessings . her delicate hands drenched in cold glue , shattered pieces clinging for their lives with expectations of being put back together again . adored and envied by the world , but the outside looking in did not see bent back constantly picking up pieces of her sisters who crumbled with even the softest poke . addiction controlling every aspect of her sisters lives , and the relationship she shared with them . it’s never been pretty to watch the ones you love self destruct and take everything you love and trust down with them .. hard to look them in the eyes as anger and heartache consumes you . and even harder to forgive .
forever fighting the demons her mother instored in her , and the demons her sister’s stir up . her only breath of fresh air being her daddy , and the way he always has her back ( no favorites are played but we all know ) , and the life she helped build for herself . wants to be rid of hands that hold her back and take and take until she has nothing left , and instead plunge into the world of living for herself and new york city granted the brunette that opportunity .
* personality .
affection sings to her in the form of a love song , her love language . digits itch to hold friends hands , and lean on lovers shoulders . uses pet names like her vocabulary only consists of the word angel and baby . a chatter bug that hides vulnerability with ebullience and teasing manners . impulsiveness that jumps out at all the wrong times , and a carelessness that teams up with her pettiness to make all the wrong choices . feels replaceable and easily disposable , makes her fear of ever letting anyone get too close . finicky , hard to please and even harder to totally figure out , some would say she’s hot and cold . tries to stay out of her head with burying herself in work . knows how it feels to feel like you are nothing , and fills that whole with giving back as much as she can . silly and sometimes ditzy . loves too hard for her own good , and has a bad habit of letting people back in even when they do not deserve it or her .. has a softness that’s desperate to escape . hates love because she understands what it can do to you and loves just as much for the same reason . built a wall around her heart to avoid adding any more scars , and will save you before she saves herself . holds on to people a little too tight , because she hates going through the process of letting people in all over again . a twenty something year old who craves a mother’s touch but holds a grudge that sometimes causes her to miss out on people . always just wants to feel like she’s worth making sacrifices for .
* career .
kylie cosmetics ? nessa cosmetics , a brand built at seventeen years old and has only grown from there . collections that consist of collabs with close friends and family ( when she’s talking to them ) , and season / holiday collections . does something for her birthday , november third , every year . has a collection dedicated to her zodiac sign , scorpio . constantly changing her formula to better her brand , and does everything hands on . does most of her work from her office . can find her instagram stories to be her swatching her latest products . favorite thing of hers being her eye shadows ( applaud for the pigmented ) . good quality , inclusive and diverse ( more then actual kylie cosmetics ) is the most important thing when it comes to her brand .
launched nessa skin a single year ago , and has worked on it for the last three years . her latest child , and plans to only grow it . skin has always been super important to nessa , and delivering her supporters with products that will actually work is her main priority .
a youtube channel with ten million subscribers , youtuber as a second job . it starting as a hobby and a way of connecting with supporters to becoming something she cannot imagine not doing . her channel consists of mixed content such from fashion hauls to makeup videos to even vlogs that involved her friends ( and family ) doing stupid things .
em & ness , a clothing brand her and her sister are developing . features trendy street wear , more to come soon .
* connections
the childhood friend that reminds her of simpler times , mud pies in the back yard and riding their bikes around the neighborhood . secrets and promises of being friends forever that felt secure but feel short . bonded forever maybe , but constantly feeling like strangers . ( or they could still be close friends )
the family friend that their parent(s) swore were going to end up together , though if the two caught any talk of that would scrunch their nose ups and shake their head . or at least they did for a while , until lines started to fade and the comfortableness felt like something more .. not together now , but constantly a what if , the idea still runs in their minds but is a friendship worth something that might not work out
a friendship or more so platonic soulmates , if you see one you know the other is not far behind . they are somewhat extensions of one another , swear they cannot survive without one another . the one person nessa trusts the most , someone who has never hurt her or left her . her person .
the bad influence that plays on her impulsiveness . talks her head up to get even or take that tenth shot because why the fuck not . anytime something bad almost happened , like that time we almost got a fine , she was with this person . and while she adores them , she knows they aren’t exactly the best for her .
the friend group you cannot help but envy , constantly plastered on one anothers instragram feeds . has their own groupchat that does nothing but blow up . shopping trips in italy and vacations in greece . do not always get along but there is always love in between them . they are constantly in her vlogs , and would kind of be like her very own vlog squad .
the friends with benefits who swear they are just friends , and the sex means nothing . despite the fact that they linger a little too long in one another’s bed . and the promises of this will not ruin anything become blurry when they connect on a deeper level . and it gets confusing when their affectionate comes to surface , but regardless they are just friends .
a trio of three friends who are always seen together , best friends could be the world to use to describe them ( bonus points if its all girls ) .
the heart breaker , the person that fucked her up for good . ruined the way she loved and left her with a lot of regret and heart ache . she swear she hates them , but she hates how much she loved them and how close they got to her . hates how they went from knowing her more then anyone to being someone she cannot even look in the eyes anymore ( bonus points if it involves them cheating on her , extra bonus points if it’s angsty as hell )
the drinking buddy she confides in , a glass of wine and a lot of shit talking that always end up in talking about personal matters . they are a ear and someone to lean on .
the on and off fling , their back and forth being nessa and her refusal to let them in completely . her feelings for them scare her , and she’s not ready to walk down the road of being with someone again .
other things i want include ; unlikely friends , enemies to friends , friends to enemies , lovers to friends , friends to lover , ex best friend , ex friends in general , ex friends who miss each other terribly , other youtubers she collabs with , other ceo’s of makeup brands / skin brands she has a rivalry with because the media made it seem like they hated one another .
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Post Endgame Fic Rec!
So at the time I’m making this post, I haven’t seen Endgame yet (but it’s out in certain parts of the world), but I imagine that what everybody will want after watching it is either 1) to pretend it never happened, or 2) some fluff (I tried to keep it to fics posted in the last year since I already did a fluff fic rec after IW). So here goes! Enjoy!
(* besides the ones I’ve read)
Infinity War fix-it
*still here by wearing_tearing (1,8K): Steve wipes the dust off his face.
*To Never Have Loved At All by hitlikehammers (3K): Steve will say they had work to do, and a universe to put to rights. They had people to find and hearts to unbreak. They had a mission. There was no time for any of them to mourn. Steve, as it turns out, says a lot of things that are mostly bullshit.
Beyond the Burn by eyres (7K): Steve saves the universe - but it takes him awhile to be okay again.
This is the Perfect Time to Panic by Brokenpitchpipe, emij1s (8K): Finding the infinity stones and restoring half the universe is the boring part. The fun part comes next.
*watch them rolling back by napricot (17K): Bucky was just here, he was right here. This can’t be all that’s left. Well, it’s not all that’s left, not quite. There, in the pile of ash that used to be Bucky Barnes, already drifting to scatter across the soil of Wakanda, to dissipate in the air, to be nothing but dust on Steve’s hands and in his gasping mouth and in his lungs—left there, in that ash and dirt, are his gun, and his left arm, gleaming dully in the sunshine.
Realignment by amethystkrystal (24K): After assembling their own Infinity Gauntlet, the Avengers defeated Thanos and brought back everyone who disappeared. But their victory came at a great cost: in order to take the Soul Stone, Steve had to sacrifice the Captain America mantle and all the super-soldier strength that came with it. Small and sickly again, Steve’s poor health soon reaches a breaking point and his last option is a difficult surgery only Shuri and her team can perform. But not all hurts can be fixed with medicine, and the real healing begins after the operation -- when Bucky asks Steve to stay in Wakanda with him.
*Endless War by Nonymos (27K): There is always something more to lose. (Which means all is not lost.)
At Times I Almost Dream by LadyC (29K): When Thanos snapped his fingers, he split the universe into two – one where half the population had been erased from existence, another where the other half had. As both sets of Avengers will learn, the divide between the worlds is thinner for those who share a particular type of connection…
*might never be normal again (but who cares) bynapricot (WIP, 3/4, 36K): All things considered, Steve thought he’d handled the whole Thanos killing half the universe thing and the ensuing bitter, desperate quest to defeat him pretty well. Sacrificing his super soldier serum to use one of the Infinity Stones wasn't a problem either, not when it meant getting back the half of the universe they'd lost, and especially not when it meant getting Bucky back. But retirement and finally confessing his feelings for Bucky? Those were proving to be more challenging.
Dismantle The Sun by hitlikehammers (WIP, 19/20, 56K): This is the way the world ends: with a bang, and a whimper, plus a snap. And yet—between realities and quantum vagaries and heartbreak and that foolish not-just-human penchant toward hope—even that wasn't the end of their stories. Not even close.
Fluff
*I [Heart] You by writeonclara (1,1K): “Steve’s been hit with a curse,” Natasha said. She said it calmly, so Bucky didn’t immediately go flying out of the apartment to tear apart the Tower in search of Steve. “Of course he has,” he said. He felt, abruptly, exhausted. “What is it?” “It might be easier just to show you.”
*Boeuf Mystère by galwednesday (1,2K): “Quick question,” Bucky said. Steve looked up, but didn’t stop moving passports and stacks of cash into a nondescript blue duffel, his mind busily ticking through logistics. He’d grab the glock taped behind the hidden drawer in the desk on their way out, and they could buy new clothes once they got across the border into neutral territory, so they didn’t need much else, apart from whatever Bucky wanted to bring. One duffle should be enough. “Yeah, honey?” “What the fuck.”
*Blank and Silent by Kellyscams (1,6K): Without any words on his wrist, Steve Rogers is sure he'll never find his soulmate. But fate might have some different plans for him.
*Check, Mate? by talkplaylove-art (talkplaylove), wearing_tearing (2K): A notification from Check, Mate? blinks back at him. Steve’s heart speeds up when he opens the app and then his face breaks into a blinding grin when sees what’s waiting for him. James likes him back.
*Just About Half-Past Ten by rohkeutta (2K): But as he reaches Madison Avenue, Stark Tower a mere block away, the skies open with a whoosh, and he barely manages to duck under the construction scaffolding perched over the sidewalk. Thunder rumbles overhead, and Bucky frantically checks every compartment of his bag for an umbrella he knows is there. It’s not. He does find some loose glitter, though, and a lipstick he wore for Pride and had thought he’d lost, plus a spare Metro Card he can’t remember buying. He also gets a crystal clear flashback of leaving the umbrella under his desk to dry yesterday morning, and never picking it up again.
*One for Fiction by thepinupchemist (6K): In the heart of a modern library, children's librarian Bucky Barnes meets his match in the form of the new barista: Steve Rogers. He doesn't think there's any way his crush could be requited -- but sometimes librarians don't know everything.
*A Little Sparkle by roe87 (7K): "What about that guy in accounting?" Natasha mused. "Billy, Buddy, or...?" "Bucky," Steve said, knowing who she meant. "Lip piercing, right?" "Yeah! He's cute." "Yeah," Steve agreed hesitantly, then added, "but I'm not ready for that."
*A World That Makes Such Wonderful Things by stevergrsno (noxlunate) (8K): In which Steve is a mermaid, Bucky's a werewolf, and as always, they fall for each other.
*Found: One Bicycle by gracie137 (8,7K): Bucky Barnes posted in Overheard at Middlebury College: Hello fellow students! Basically in my drunken stupor last night I came across a bicycle. Being rather intoxicated and far from home I decided the logical thing to do was ride it back. I can assure you all that both me and the bike survived this adventure and are in perfect condition!! I now however have no use for for said vehicle and have realised that someone is probably pretty upset about having lost it. Anyway, if you can correctly identify the bike’s make and colour, slide into my DMs and I promise to return it to you!! Thanks for the ride xoxo
*Kiss me and take off your clothes by steveandbucky (10K): Steve Rogers is dared to send a dick pic to a blog which critiques dick pics (run by none other than Bucky Barnes). Hilarity ensues.
*before we can breathe easy by belovedmuerto (22K): No one touches Steve. Bucky sets out to do something about that.
*Roll Out the Red Carpet by Lorien, Quarra, talkplaylove-art (talkplaylove) (29K): The premiere for Steve Rogers' newest Captain America movie was just around the corner, and Steve knew it was going to be a hit. The big downside was that he had to have a date. The last several times he'd brought someone to an event like this, things had ranged from unpleasant to disastrous. In a last ditch effort to get out of taking someone that might make his night hell, Steve went on Twitter and invited the Winter Soldier to be his plus one. The Soldier was an international fugitive, and currently wanted for a series of high profile attacks on corrupt businessmen. Since every person the Soldier attacked was involved in some truly vile criminal activity, the public loved him, despite his crimes. Inviting him to the premiere was the perfect cop out. There was no way he was ever going to show. Right?
*The Twilight Bark (And Other Things Bucky Has To Deal With On A Daily Basis) by spacebuck (36K): Steve Rogers: I couldn’t say no to this little guy, so I guess he’s coming home with me! The picture below it is an overexcited looking dog, barely older than six months, shoving its nose through the bars of a shelter gate. The tweet already has twenty thousand retweets, a few thousand more likes, and nearly three thousand comments. Bucky can’t help himself, leads in hand, and he leans a shoulder against the doorjamb and taps the comment field. bbarnes: if you’re ever in need of a walker I’d be happy to take the lil guy on, nyc based and rescues are my thing!
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{ zendaya ☁ twenty six ☁ she/her } among the whispers around peach hollow, have you heard of daysia collins? no? well, let’s catch you up to speed. rumor has it, she’s been seen strolling around blueberry boulevard & have lived in peach hollow for six years. it’s good to have her around because i hear she’s a crisis counselor for a living. recent events must have her trembling because it hasn’t be long since everyone found out she flunked school. let’s hope they learned their lesson that the truth always catches up to you.
yall know me. i’m kim, i play winnie, and i’m one of the admins!! this is my damaged but optimistic baby, daysia. ITS PRONOUNCED LIKE DEJA VU :’) i just created her in november but she so quickly became my favorite muse to write. so buckle up! and pls plot w me. i am fragile and if i don’t get any plots i will hide in a dumpster, where i belong.
TW FOR DEATH, DRUG USE, ALCOHOLISM, CAR ACCIDENT
here is her pinterest and a spotify playlist if you wanna check those out ~
daysia jade, day, dj, deej – anything goes. she’s 23 and will turn her head to just about anything. she’s a spring baby born march, 1996.
her childhood was pretty good. she and her brother grew up a year apart, and her parents divorced early. early enough that daysia can barely remember a time where the family was hole, and likes it that way.
however, her father did not take the divorce well and turned to drugs – meth to be specific. he only saw the kids on weekends and even then, daysia and marcus absolutely knew what was happening. perhaps they didn’t know his choice of poison, but they knew that it was just that: poison.
he was never abusive and always took care of the kids, even if he was tweaking out of his mind. there were a few instances that were touch and go, like when he forgot to take dinner out of the oven and it caught fire, or when he forgot to change the sheets – little things that added up.
when daysia was 16 and marcus was 15, they were involved in a car accident. her dad was high behind the wheel, lost control of the car, and they hit the guard rail. they went over an embankment and down a short hill before the vehicle came to a complete stop, flipped over. she watched the life drain from her brother’s face, and never got into a car again.
a good deal of resentment built up for her father, but she remained stoic, even when he went to prison for drug charges and the dui he’d racked up that ultimately killed her brother. she didn’t let anyone know that she was hurting, because she numbed it all. she threw herself into her school work and her artwork, painting constantly. melting colors together somehow helped her cope. she could get her emotions out on paper. in fact, that still rings true today. in her bedroom of the apartment she lives in, she has covered one of the walls in canvas and paints over and over.
in an effort to start life over, daysia left detroit when she graduated high school. she transferred to peach hollow where she went to winchester university, not wanting a lot of attention. this is where she really came to life.
daysia was able to push michigan to the back of her mind entirely, because peach hollow had so much to offer. the people were better. the music was better. the parties were better. the education was better. there wasn’t a single thing she missed from home aside from her mother, who she kept in regular contact with and still does. they’re always texting and facetime before bed every night.
she came alive. college changed her. she was studying a subject that interested her and meeting people who didn’t have to know about her past. she did, and does everything to keep michigan her dirty little secret. she liked the party scene, but only drank or smoked weed. she refuses to touch anything that might turn her into her father. she was even hired on as a crisis counselor for a local hotline, contractual to her graduation.
in the past month, daysia has plummeted, however. nobody would ever be able to tell. she is the queen of poker face, an absolute delight to be around. she can be a little aloof, and is constantly stoned, but it’s how she gets through the day. she is an absolute goof, loves to crack jokes and make people laugh. she loves to laugh herself. these are all traits that show and cover the inner turmoil constantly trying to bubble to the surface.
daysia received word that her father passed away in jail. he overdosed, and she wasn’t sure how to feel. so she didn’t. she did, however, stop doing school work and started drinking more. she flunked out of school and lost her job.
at the same time, she got into her first serious relationship. day fell hard and fast for her best friend, mac. their relationship started out much like a fairy tale. she wanted to keep it like that forever, but her addiction and ptsd took over. she tried her very hardest to hold onto mac, but he moved back to nyc with their best friend, dom, in tow. she still misses them to this day and finds it hard to keep friends like she kept them close. the littlest things will remind her of mac and she’ll start to spiral. two years later and she’s still hung up, but she’ll deny it to the very end.
it’s safe to say that when this happened, daysia crumbled. she realized just how many people she’d lost and how many she had -- and she didn’t have anyone at that point, or so she thought. she continued to isolate and stopped answering her phone, and within the week, her mother was there to drag her home to detroit for detox.
she spent the next few weeks laying in the bathroom, going through withdrawal from alcohol and the various benzos she’d started eating like candy. things were bad. her mother never left her side, and after many na and aa meetings, after snatching pill bottles and miniatures out of her room for months, daysia cleaned up her act. she put on a healthy amount of weight, started working out, went to aa or na two or three times a day until she was comfortable enough to skirt by a day or two without one. she finished up her degree that summer and started waiting tables. she saved up every cent, finally having enough money and credit built up to buy a house where she really wanted to be: peach hollow.
after talking to her old boss, they agreed to take her back on as a crisis counselor when she moved back
so the newly clean and sober (aside from weed lol) daysia is living in a house on blueberry boulevard with @dawsonsawyer
as for her personality and relationships, daysia excels. she is nurturing, so when a friend, or even a stranger is hurting, she tends to go to their side and comfort them. as long as she can make them laugh, then everything will be okay. she makes friends pretty easily, and keeps them for the most part. she is fiercely loyal and will absolutely scrap to defend her loved ones.
she loves love. there is no gender she isn’t curious about and absolutely loves romance, though she also tries to hide that. her walls are ten feet tall. she’s in to hook ups, flings, and polyamory. she’s very open in that sense!!
FUN FACTS
she has an english bull dog named frank!! he is her pride and joy. she dresses him up in outfits, has regular photo shoots with him and loves going to the dog park. he isn’t legally an emotional support animal, but that’s definitely what he is to her. if he doesn’t like you, she won’t either tbh
she has this lil purple pen looking thing that is always on her. it’s her weed vape and she will hit it anywhere. her dumb head is always in the mfing clouds
she has a spotify family plan that is currently only her, mac, and dom and she will absolutely invite anyone she meets bc spotify premium is something everyone should enjoy
wears a lot of graphic tees and jeans, kinda a tom boy. doesn’t love dressing up but will occasionally. also doesn’t rly like make up but DOES know how to beat her face
1000% unable to be alone for like any period of time?? like if she gets off work and no one is in her apartment she just leaves. she goes next door to mac, goes to the peach pit, anywhere she can socialize. being left to her own thoughts will always turn out poorly.
really loves poetry. cannot write it to save her life, but loves going to slam readings or checking out poetry books from the library. her adhd brain can’t handle novels – poetry is just the right length to keep her attention and dig into her soul.
oh yeah, she’s got some pretty intense untreated adhd lol
OK SO WANTED CONNECTIONS IF UR STILL HERE LMAO
ex-roommate: something happened between daysia and this person, whether it was a relationship gone wrong, a friendship with tension, or just the other person being a damn slob – and daysia removed them from the house and moved someone new in. they are probably on shitty terms.
current flings: a few people are probably on her list of suitors right now. people she spends time with romantically, but hasn’t committed to. she absolutely cannot be alone, at any point… ever! so, she has someone with her at all times. m/f/nb, all good.
party friends: this one is pretty self explanatory!! these are friends that daysia may or may not talk to outside of a party, but will always cling to at one.
close friends: she lets very few people all the way in, but those that make it are generally taken care of by day. she makes sure that they are as comfortable with life as possible and spends a lot of time with them
exes: as daysia is a ticking time bomb, there have been many people she’s blown off. whether they once hooked up, were together, or what have you, daysia has a lot of exes. she never means to hurt anyone. it just sort of happens and she has accepted it.
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A BEAUTIFUL NIGHT → HEVANS
TAGGING: Sam Evans + Kurt Hummel
WHERE: Sam and Finn’s aparment, NYC
WHEN: April 5th, ~9PM.
DETAILS: Sam works up the courage to ask Kurt a very important question (about a month early).
Sam Evans
Orchestrating the entire day was more than Sam was ready for, but being able to distract Kurt all day with an afternoon in the city was easy enough. Not that spending time with him was a chore -- in fact, it was the opposite. It gave him a feeling in his chest, warmth swelling as he found himself staring at Kurt for seconds, minutes at a time. It was these feelings, this absolute bliss and happiness, that had him convinced there was no one else for him. Kurt was his soulmate. End of story.
Holding him close as he approached his apartment building (and breathing a sigh of relief when the hallway was silent as they approached his door), Sam turned to his boyfriend. "Can you do me a favor before we go inside?" Brow raised, Sam took Kurt's hand in his own, thumb rubbing over his knuckles as he did so. "Can you close your eyes? I.. kinda have a surprise inside. I don't wanna spoil it, but -- I kinda outdid myself with this one."
Kurt Hummel
There was only one thing better than a day out on the streets of New York, and that was spending time with Sam. Kurt always looked forward to spending time together exploring the city with his soulmate. There was nothing better, and Kurt had every intention of spending the rest of his life like this, sharing perfect days with Sam as they grew older together. More than usual, he caught Sam staring at him, but that was nothing new for them. Kurt could stare at Sam for hours, wondering how he got so lucky to meet his soulmate early in his life, and to have Sam as a soulmate.
Almost at Sam's apartment, Kurt looked at Sam as he began to speak. "Hmm?" He asked, enjoying the feeling of Sam's hand running over Kurt's gently. Sam had a surprise? Kurt pursed his lips together, trying not to smile too much, but he failed. There was more to this already amazing day? Sam was great at gestures that were romantic, without being too much. For Kurt, there was a fine line between the two. He nodded his head and closed his eyes, squeezing Sam's hand. "Lead the way."
Sam Evans
He knew Kurt couldn’t really say no, but the smile he tried to fight back had him nervous all over again. Nodding, Sam leaned into to place a kiss high on Kurt’s cheek bone before he unlocked the door, pushing it open to what he hoped was something close to what he had planned.
To his relief, it was. Jesse and Blaine really outdid themselves, and Sam wondered a bit in awe at the bushels of flowers, the candles that lined the counter and the table, and the small path leading them from the front door to the center of the small living room. Turning to Kurt, eyes hopeful, Sam tugged him close. “Okay, you can open,” he encouraged, waiting eagerly with a too large grin on his face.
Kurt Hummel
Kurt's smile returned as Sam gave him a kiss on the cheek. As he felt Sam leading him into the apartment he followed, their hands still joined together. They stood there for a moment, and Kurt tried to imagine what Sam had planned for him. He didn't get very far before Sam was pulling the two of them closer and telling Kurt it was okay to look now. Opening his eyes, he was immediately greeted by his boyfriend's grin. Whatever this surprise was, it was going to be good.
Taking his eyes off Sam, he gasped. Immediately he noticed the flowers that they had discussed a few days before. So that's what Sam had bought them for? Next, he realized the flowers - or lack of them in certain places - created a path that led to the living room. Eyes tracing over every detail, a smile curled onto his face. "Oh my god!" He exclaimed, turning back to Sam and giving him a long kiss. "This is amazing."
Sam Evans
Leaning into the kiss, Sam pulled Kurt a little closer, humming contently before pulling away. The look on Kurt's face, the smile that stretched across his face, reaffirmed what he already knew. Why he was where he was, why he was doing what he was doing. Taking Kurt's hand, he tugged them both towards the middle of the room, chuckling softly to himself in a lame attempt to shake off any nerves that might be lingering.
"You're amazing," he started, making sure Kurt's eyes were locked with his. With a deep breath, Sam pushed forward, lowering himself to one knee.
"You and I.. we're a lot of things," he started, eyes misting already as he offered his boyfriend -- his soulmate -- a smile. "But, we're all of those things together. When we met, I don't think either of us knew what was gonna happen, and what people wanted from us. I've had a lot of weird stuff thrown at me my whole life, and when I met you, it's kinda like.. none that stuff mattered. The only thing that mattered was making you smile, every day. A laugh, a grin -- every time, it was worth it. And I'll happily do it ten hundred times over, so long as you're smiling back at me."
His free hand moved to his jacket pocket, and Sam fiddled with the box for only a moment before he creaked it open. (The ring wasn't entirely impressive, and Sam felt foolish for only a second or two as he presented it to his boyfriend with hopeful eyes.) "Kurt.. you're my soulmate. We were meant to meet, meant for each other. You don't make me feel like I'm not good enough -- you make me feel like I'm perfect, just the way I am. But.. also, like I could be so much more, if I wanted to be. And I never want that feeling to end. I love you. I'll always love you."
Pushing the box up, Sam inhaled, smiling with nothing less than unabashed pride. "Kurt Hummel," he started, lips pressed together, "will you marry me?”
Kurt Hummel
Sam led them to the end of the path, the middle of the living room. This surprise was so over the top, and that's what made it perfect. This was just a small, cheap, New York City apartment but Sam had somehow transformed it into a castle while they were out on their date. Kurt loved him so much. After a moment of intimate eye contact, Sam started to move and it took a moment for Kurt to register the way he had positioned himself.
"Oh my god!" Kurt's hands went over his mouth as he listened intently to Sam's speech. His heart was beating so quickly, as everything else in the room seemed to fade away except his soulmate...his very-soon-to-be-fiancé. Sam soon produced the ring, and Kurt was barely able to look at it before Sam continued. As much as he never wanted this moment to end, he was also starting to get impatient. It took everything he had to not blurt out Yes, I'll marry you! and he just wanted Sam to finally get to the point of his speech so he didn't have to keep holding it in.
Finally, the moment came. He knew it was coming, but hearing the words took his breath away. "I...." He took a second to take a breath and regain his composure. "Yes! Absolutely!"
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new year, who dis
what would be the use in becoming a symbol of walking desolation? awash in multiple griefs, elaborating on anguish. even if i never get to see you again, i’ll know that when we collided we both broke each other open.
-mount eerie, love without possession
i guess it’s been four months since i’ve sat down to write an actual blog. i figured i should at least try to get something out before the new year.
i’ve tried to write an update a few times over the last couple of months, but every time i tried to write something, it’s just aggressively sad. like that one st. vincent lyric— i try to write you a love song, but it comes out a lament. and while an aggressively sad tone is appropriate to how i’ve been feeling, i’ve been trying to bring less sad energy to the table. (a surprise to everyone, because sad energy is my entire brand).
I planned to get this blog up by january 1st. and then i kept putting it off. hence why this starts off saying things like, “i guess it’s been four months,” and “i figured i should at least try to get something out before the new year.” today is february 4th, which means it’s officially been a year and a half since nathan died.
in the last few weeks, i’ve been under a lot of stress. i’m juggling three jobs right now, and somehow still don’t make enough money to survive. i’m sure that at this point, i’ve described to you my bona-fide money saving technique. it’s called “i only eat three days a week because it’s too expensive to feed myself every day,” sometimes, i get lucky, and get the scraps from events at work, and that’s literally like the one (1) thing i look forward to.
i’m still out here searching for a salary (and health insurance) and hopefully, by my birthday, i’ll have that. but we’ll see, the job search has been uhhh…..abysmal to say the least.
anyways, in the midst of being stressed, i’ve realized that i really don’t think about nathan all the time like i used to. sometimes i’ll go like two days before i’m reminded of him. the other day, i was like “am i a bad person because of this?” and like, logically, i know that it’s totally normal, but on the other hand, i can’t help but feel guilty because of it sometimes. i feel a sense of responsibility to exist as a reminder of “hey, this person existed, and they mattered,” and while i realize that’s a huge weight to put onto myself, i feel like if i don’t, then who will?
last night, i was reading house of leaves (which, despite owning a copy since high school, i’ve actually never read it before) and i found nathan’s bookmark (a ticket from a baseball game he went to right after he moved to new york) in it, from when i let him take a few of my books when he moved to nyc. i got weirdly emotional and was like “wow what a fun coincidence to find this item of nathan’s that i’ve never seen before in my life on the 1.5 year anniversary of him dying.” i’m not saying i’m superstitious, but maybe i am a little stitious.
+++
since the last time i wrote a blog, i’ve kept notes on my phone every time something happens that i feel holds some sort of importance- so here’s what’s been in my notes since august 4th.
august 24, 2019. 4:17am
when i went into work on august 5th, a coworker of mine asked how i was doing. i was doing alright. the anniversary of nathan’s death really didn’t hit me too hard. i assumed i would have a huge nervous breakdown, and i didn’t.
then my coworker, who’d also lost a partner, told me, “i hate to sound negative and be the one to tell you this but the second year is a lot harder than the first.”
that’s what i’d been reading online for months, but to hear someone say it to my face i was just like… oh shit.
and so far, the second year has been harder.
i’ve officially been out on my own for a month now.
the best part about having depression is that no matter where you are, you still have depression. i don’t know why i was expecting moving to just alleviate all of my sadness when i know that i’ll always find a way to be miserable wherever i am.
it’s nice to be out of abilene and at least have the option of opportunity, but i basically just spend all of my free time asleep or crying.
as the ancient oracle, britney spears, once said- “my loneliness is killing me.”
now that i’ve started getting into a routine, i’m starting to feel that hole in my life again.
i’m on the same schedule that i was when i lived in new york, almost.
when we lived in new york, i would leave for work around 4, i’d get home around 11:30, and then nathan and i would hang out until around 4am, and then go to bed. the next day, he’d usually wake me up at a normal time, (or at least 2 hours before i had to be at work).
and now i have to leave for work around 4:30, i get home around 11, and when i come home i’m just alone. and i lay in bed until i’m finally exhausted enough to fall asleep, usually around 5am. and then i wake up ten minutes before i have to go to work.
i have been feeling this deep, existential sadness for awhile now. every night, i lay in bed and think about all of the conversations i wish i could revisit with nathan. all of the things i wish i’d said. i relive all of my favorite moments of ours. i am still so desperate to feel close to him again.
i cannot remember a time in my life when i was excited to wake up. i cannot remember a time when i looked forward to my future. in fact, when i think about my mental health as a child, the only thing i remember is one time when i was 12, my dad bought me tickets to see my favorite band. i was obviously so incredibly excited, and expressed the human emotion of joy, and my mother accused me of being on drugs because she’d “never seen me act like that before.” it was so surprising to her to see me happy that she literally thought i was on drugs.
i’ve been like this for as long as i can remember, except for the two years that nathan and i were together. i was still so depressed when we lived together, but for the first time, i was looking forward to the future. for the first time, dealing with my depression seemed worth it. for the first time, putting effort into getting better made sense.
for the first time in my life, i didn’t feel alone.
and it took a lot of effort on nathan’s part to make sure that i didn’t feel alone. the loneliness i’ve always felt is like a self-fulfilling prophecy. i actively choose to retreat from friendships and relationships. i stop responding to texts. i hide away and cancel plans. it’s my fault that i feel isolated- because i isolate myself. and nathan refused to let me do that. when i get stressed, i internalize everything and take it all on my own- and nathan would recognize when i was doing that and beg me to let him help. and i wouldn’t let him help. but he would still do it, because he knew what i needed without me asking and would just quietly provide it for me so that i wouldn’t lose my mind. and a lot of the time the help was just him actively sitting me down and reminding me that i’m in fact, not alone. i’ll never forget when i was so stressed after moving to new york because i was so poor, and nathan telling me that “it’ll be okay. we’ll figure it out.” i never asked him for money, or for help, because i have too much pride for that. but even when i was working, i was struggling to make ends meet for myself, and he would sneakily do things like go to the grocery store and be like “oh hey, i was at the store today and just picked up some chicken for you so you don’t have to go yourself.” there were a few times when i asked him to pick up something from the halal cart for me because i didn’t want to get out of bed and i’d be like “there’s cash in my wallet just grab it” but instead of taking the money from my wallet, he’d just get the food for me, and put the change he had leftover in my wallet for me to have.
but even past that, just emotionally, he’d always reassure me that i wasn’t alone. as soon as he started to sense me doing the thing where i try to isolate myself, he’d just cling to me even harder.
here’s the thing: i’m too tired to fight for myself, and i don’t have anyone that’ll fight for me the way that nathan did.
august 29th, 2019. 5:32pm
so here’s the tea: i went on a date for the first time since nathan died. i went out last night, got drunk, got on bumble and agreed to go on a date this morning. so yeah, i was aggressively hungover, which is maybe not the best version of me for someone to meet- but it’s the version i brought to the table nonetheless. and like, it was fine. well, up until the point he was trying to relate to me and my career in theatre and told me that his favorite musical is CATS. his favorite cat is the rum tum tugger, and he can’t wait to see the movie in december.
it’s not going to work out. CATS is an abomination and i refuse to spend time with anyone who disagrees with that statement.
on a more serious note: i realized that i definitely don’t have the emotional capacity to date. i just can’t bring myself to care about anything anyone has to tell me about themselves. you have two sisters, your parents divorced when you were 8 and and you love CATS? zzzzz….sorry, that was me blacking out for 7 minutes.
y’know, i’m unsure about a lot of things in my life. like, don’t try to ask me what i want for dinner because i refuse to make a decision about anything. don’t ask me what my favorite movie is, or my favorite book. i have no idea, dude, sorry. BUT the one thing i have incredible clarity about is what i deserve in a relationship. i had impossibly high standards before nathan and i were together and now they’re even higher- but that’s fine when you don’t have the emotional capacity to deal with scrubs to begin with.
the other day, i found my journal that i kept in college. it starts in august of 2015, with the eulogy i wrote for my dad’s funeral. an excerpt: “despite me acting like an awful teen at times, he always was on my side. i think that’s what i’ll miss the most. i’ll miss having someone who had my back 100%. i’ll miss having someone who was always making sure i was happy…” and after reading that, i realized why my relationship with nathan was so successful. i’ve always heard that “girls always end up marrying someone like their dad” thing, and for the most part always chalked it up to weird patriarchal bullshit, but maybe there’s a little truth in it. because i definitely see some of my favorite things about my dad reflected in my favorite things about nathan.
september 30, 2019. 1:09am
sometimes the saddest things must be sung.
every time i try to write, it’s impossible to say anything that’s not just “i’m sad.” i haven’t been feeling great lately. i just feel trapped in this infinite loop of sadness and it’s so exhausting. i don’t like being like this. nathan would always get so frustrated with me when my depression was really bad, and i’d always be like do you think this is fun for me??? do you think i like being like this??? do you think i wake up and want to be a goblin??? newsflash my dude, i don’t.
here’s the thing: when nathan first died, i was sad all the time. but it made sense. i had a reason to be sad all of the time.
but i’m still sad all of the time. i wake up, i’m sad for 10 hours and then i go to bed. and then i wake up, maybe go to work, come home and be sad until bedtime. it’s a constant loop of sadness and i am so tired.
nothing i do fulfills me. nothing satisfies me. i have neither purpose nor direction. i’m tired. and i’m sad.
october 2nd, 2019. 7:34pm
i went to urgent care today- turns out i don’t have depression, i just have a torn ligament in my ankle.
for context: i fell down the stairs at work the other day, crunched my ankle like it was an empty ozarka water bottle, and just wrecked my shit. i think this injury has me sadness spiraling a lot more than i normally do. now i get why nathan used to get so depressed whenever he’d injure himself.
the first time i got really sick after nathan died, i was so sad. this is my first ever really bad physical injury- i’ve never broken a bone or torn anything before, and i’m really feeling the loss of nathan right now. like how am i supposed to feed myself when i can barely walk to the kitchen? who’s supposed to remind me to take my ibuprofen every few hours?
senior year of college, i kept getting strep, and the only reason i didn’t die is because every 12 hours nathan would call me to make sure i took my antibiotics, even when i had to take them at 2am. i only have two voicemails from him saved on my phone and literally one of them is from 3am and he’s like “hello wake up, your penicillin is calling, i’m gonna keep calling you until you wake up.”
even though spraining my ankle was a nightmare, it could’ve been worse. just think, if i was a framing device in an emily bronte novel, i would have just had to live at work for five weeks until it healed.
october 11th, 2019. 5:37pm
i haven’t been sleeping lately, and last night i fell asleep around 6am. the cold front had just blown in and it was raining and i finally fell asleep. before i went to bed, i cracked my windows open for the first time this year and when i woke up this morning it was chilly in my room. i woke up in a little cocoon of all of my blankets and pillows and for a moment, before i completely opened my eyes, it felt like i was back in new york, waking up with nathan on a fall wednesday morning. it’s the little things.
october 25th, 2019. 2:19am
i keep thinking about all the things that have returned to me. all of the things that i gave to nathan that are back in my possession, tucked away in my room. like the grey ut shirt that was 3 sizes too big for me- so i gave it to him as a christmas present our first year together. he had been in new york for a semester, and he surprised me by coming to austin for new year’s- we hadn’t talked about christmas gifts or anything, but we ended up giving each other almost the exact same gift. he had gotten me a columbia sweater, and he slept in it for a few days before giving it to me, so it smelled like him. i did the exact same thing with that grey shirt. we couldn’t stop laughing when we exchanged the gifts because we were so amused that we’d gotten the same thing for each other.
after he died, that shirt was one of the few that i kept of his, he slept in it all the time when we lived together. it still smells like him.
i don’t wear my rings anymore, but when i see them in the bottom of my jewelry box, i think about the day that i gave him the engagement ring. he was so afraid of me saying no if he were to propose to me, so i told him that when i knew i’d say yes- i’d give him the ring i wanted him to use. on our first anniversary, i was visiting him in new york, right before i flew back to texas, i left a letter on his desk, with the ring attached. it returned to me a year after that, on our second anniversary when he proposed.
the day after nathan died, i went through all of his stuff. mostly because i knew i was about to fly back to texas and i didn’t know when i’d return to our apartment, so i wanted to collect all of his important documents that i didn’t want to lose. social security card, IDs, cards, passport, etc. but when i was digging through his backpack, i found a folder, where he’d kept all of the letters and cards i’d given to him throughout the years.
my personal favorite was an envelope that had two things in it: a sample size of the perfume that i’ve always worn, and a letter that just said “for when you miss me.” i gave that to him before we were even together. it was during that weird ambiguous era of our relationship where we were too afraid to commit, but were definitely in too deep to not commit. every time i would leave his apartment, he’d comment on how his pillows smelled like me, and how he missed me- right after he made his decision to go to columbia, we assumed we would never see each other again, so i gave him that letter.
i was surprised to see all of those letters because that meant that he moved them from his apartment in abilene, to new york, to our apartment in new york, back to texas, and then to philly.
so in turn, i moved them from philly, back to abilene, and now they’re with me in a box in austin.
and i hope that one day all of the love that i gave to nathan will return to me.
november 4th, 2019. 12:31am
in the deepest, blackest night of despair if you can get just one pinhole of light, all of grace rushes in.
november 19th, 2019. 2:20am
i’ve started taking up space again.
december 20th, 2019. 1:41pm
y’know, i’ve been doing pretty well for myself lately, and by that i mean that i haven’t had any major meltdowns. well, except for a couple of days ago. it was a christmas party, and as we all know- i’m not great at being social. but i also never turn down an invitation, which is a strange combination of things that happen to exist at the core of my being. but luckily, i got a plus one. see, with a plus one, i have a buffer there. i can bring one of my more interesting friends to carry conversations for me and then by proxy i become more able to socialize because i have to expend less energy by having that buffer there. anyways the person i was bringing as my plus one cancelled two hours before the event which meant that i had no time to try to get someone else to come with me. and this threw me into a major breakdown. i didn’t even want to go to the party at this point, but i had spent so much money on an outfit that if i didn’t go i would have wasted like 60 dollars. and i sat there trying to put makeup on to go but i kept crying and ruining it and then i chugged three white claws before even showing up at the party and i didn’t eat beforehand because there was supposed to be food there but by the time i was done crying and arrived, there was nothing left and then i drank 5 glasses of wine because it was free and i have social anxiety, and somehow i made it through the night without making a fool of myself, which is a miracle.
the thing is, i really don’t get upset about a lot of things. but if someone cancels or changes plans on me, especially plans that we’d had set for at least a month in advance, i lose my god damn mind. there is historically nothing that upsets me more.
but this time around, i realized that it really hurt me because it was the first time that i was confronted with the fact that i no longer have anyone in my life that prioritizes me. like, if nathan was begrudgingly my plus one to an event, he can’t get out of it- it’s non-negotiable. but like, i don’t hold that level of importance in anyone else’s life- there’s always something more important to them and uhhhhh that feeling sucks.
+++
and that was the last note i wrote in 2019. which brings us to january 2020. when i think about my relationship with nathan, i feel like january always ended up being a special month for us. in 2016, january was the first time i ever spent the night with nathan. in 2017, nathan came back to texas to see me for the new year, after we’d been long-distance for five months. at the end of 2017, he went out of town for like three weeks, and i was miserable and all alone for the holidays, but in january 2018, his last day of vacation back home in abilene coincided with my first day of vacation back in abilene so we got to see each other for a little bit instead of having to go an entire month apart during the holidays.
so i always end up getting weird and do a lot of reminiscing in january- but i feel like that’s kind of universal.
like the #1 thing that everyone does is get all existential and contemplative when the new year hits.
+++
in 2018, i never stopped moving. like a shark, i would have died if i stayed in one place for too long. and there i was in 2019, finally staying in one place.
it was a lot easier to ask for help when i had a reason to be sad. but now enough time has passed since nathan died that i feel like a burden when i’m not doing well.
in my blog post wrapping up 2018, i said that my goal was to be kinder to myself. i also said that 2019 was going to be for starting a new life.
and while i’ve been no kinder to myself, at least i’ve made strides in living in this new phase of my life. in 2019 i moved out of my mother’s house, and back into my best friend’s apartment in austin. i got 3 jobs. i cut off all of my hair and pierced my nose. i started taking up space again.
a few weeks ago, a coworker of mine told me that she had also lost a partner before. but what stuck with me was when she said, “you will never be the same. you’ll be happy again, and you’ll fall in love again- but you’ll never be the same person again”
and i’m realizing how true that is.
i think one of the scariest scenarios is waking up one day and not remembering who you are. and that’s exactly what happened to me in 2018. i woke up one day without nathan and couldn’t remember who i was.
one thing everyone’s been talking about lately is how this is the end of the decade, and i realized that nathan was in my life for the entire decade. he was in my life before the decade even started. and then when he died, i lost such a huge part of my identity. there’s a bear’s den lyric that’s like “i don’t want to know who i am without you,” and that’s what 2019 was for me.
kintsugi is the japanese art of fixing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with a lacquer mixed with powdered gold. i’ve always been a vase held by shaky hands, constantly on the precipice of shattering- and in 2018 i was dropped. in 2019, i’ve been finding tiny pieces of myself and trying to piece them back together to form a whole person again.
recently, i’ve been realizing all of the little pieces of me that are missing. like the part of me that used to be good at holding conversations with people. and the part of me that had the ability to be a person for more than like 3 hours a day. and the part of me that showed excitement about things. i don’t even know what things excite me anymore? do i have interests or hobbies? not really. one time, i described myself as a robot that powers off if i am not at work, and wow, what an apt description.
the other day, one of my friends called me out about how she can never tell if i’m actually excited about something or not. my language is always very vague and even when i’m really stoked about something, i rarely show excitement about it.
+++
so now it’s february 2020. it’s been a year and a half since nathan died.
i’m feeling better. the other day, i came to the realization that i think my emotions have finally leveled off. i’m back to my normal amount of unstable, rather than that really virulent level that i was at for awhile at the end of last year. it feels good to finally have a little bit of control back over my life. i’ve finally really settled in at work, and i’m starting to feel more confident in my capabilities.
so what are my goals for 2020? i think the biggest thing is to find something that i care about. honestly, probably a big part of the reason why i’ve been having such a hard time finding a Big Girl Job to settle into is because there’s just nothing that i’m 100% passionate about. it’s hard for me to find an answer other than “i’m just trying to not die,” whenever i get asked “so why do you want this job?” i really want to find lasting stability this year. i’m tired of not being able to enjoy anything because i don’t have money. whoever said money can’t buy happiness obviously was never poor because let me tell you, i’d be a lot happier if i could afford to go out with my friends more often. or if i could like…….eat 3 meals a day without feeling guilty for wasting food because i know i can live on just one meal a day.
i also started doing a skincare routine that involves like 4 different serums and i’ve been doing really well keeping up with doing it twice a day and if i could carry that energy through the rest of the year that’d be dope. i would make a comment about how i’ve been going to the gym every day and how i’m trying to have a 2020 glo-up but i was going to the gym every day for awhile but i haven’t been in like two weeks.
also my chemical romance just reunited so i guess my other 2020 goal is to see them on this reunion tour.
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381. It Came From the Daily Show: one episode from April 1999, and one from May, 1999
(February and March, 1999)
April 28, 1999
“HEADLINES - HEEEERE'S JOHN-JOHN!“
“John-John rollerblades* into yet another cushy gig!” - JFK Jr. might be working on a talk show similar in fashion to his magazine, George. “Like the publication, the talk show should be a huge hit with people who have already watched everything else at the dentist’s office. When starting George, Kennedy said since his dad was in politics, and his mom was in publishing, he was ideally suited to be a political publisher. The same formula for cross-breeding also makes him a horny socialite.” It’s perfect for the syndication arm of USA Networks, who produces Jerry Springer and Sally Jessy Raphel’s shows -- as long as Uncle Teddy “comes on every day, drunk and ready for lovin’!”
* JFK Jr. was known for rollerblading around NYC in the mid 90s, and wearing a dumb hat. I mentioned it years ago.
(see also: No Peking)
Field piece: “XXX-PO '99″ - “Here at The Daily Show, we pride ourselves with our comprehensive coverage of world events. But, since our NATO Summit press passes were misfiled, we sent Beth Littleford and Mo Rocca to report from the Erotica-Con.”
“I’m here with Sharon ... and her implants...” Mo asks Sharon a really stupid ass question, like “if you needed to clean your contact lens, you could puncture these?” Sharon gets fed up and goes “....what show is this for?”
This can’t possibly be Ron Jeremy’s first appearance on TDS. I feel like he showed up at least once in a field piece during the Kilborn years.
“My Day with Billy” - Jon pretends that Billy Joel came by the TDS offices after hearing about how much Jon ribbed him earlier in the month. For a split second, I believed this during Jon’s lead up until I saw those doctored pictures! I had gotten the 30 minute long Billy Crystal interview special Jon did early on during his tenure, and this bit confused.
“coming up, another ridiculous story about that Tyra Banks ... oh Tyra...”
THIS JUST IN - FRUIT BATS - Warner Brothers had plans to produce a Batman musical. “the show is planned to premiere in 2001, making New Yorkers eager to anticipate the destruction of Y2K.”
Shocking, the musical name came to fruition.
OTHER NEWS - SWAMP MEET - “Florida heat wave causes gators to attack humans, just in time for FOX May sweeps.”
“Zoologists fear that the gators will drag small children into lagoons and eat them, thus upsetting the delicate ecosystem of the Florida pedophile.”
(audience groans laughs and claps)
“...you’ve been there.”
Back in Black - Lewis Black is mad that this squirrel who rides on jet skis is living a better life than him.
“Tune in tomorrow when we’ll ind out ... Keaton, Kilmer ... Clooney ... Stewart? Nah, too many nipples.”
5/18/1999
Someone in the audience gave Jon some Backstreet Boys trading cards!
Headlines: Guernicut - A crazed man cuts a Picasso painting, Women Nude Before Garden. “Instantly creating two lesser works, “Garden” and “Women Nude”.
“Same *hit, different day” - the Fall season has been revealed for the big five, six and a half networks. Dramedies and West Wing will premiere in the fall.
Oof, the West Wing craze will be brewing at this soon. Did’ja ever notice when people would obsess over West Wing back in the day, it would sound like they were saying, “Wet’ Wing”? I feel like my government teacher, who played favorites, Mrs. Garrity would say it like that.
Jon has some ideas for his Fall TV schedule.
Star Wars: the obligatory coverage - Meanwhile, in movieland, Vance DeGeneres has been in line with Star Wars fans who are waiting for The Phantom Menace, which comes out the next day. Vance didn’t bring enough food so he traded his suit for some Fresca. Boy, that’s pee.
This Just in: the Wonder Fears - Kids are more afraid of snakes, sharks, and thunderstorms than things that go bump in the night. Well, duh.
Other News: Blubber Soul - Macaw Native Americans go back to tradition and kill a juvenile whale, they knew it was juvenile because it laughed at its own blowhole.
Back in Black: Oprah - Our boy Lewis was on Oprah looking cute. The Netherlands flipped out over winning a hubcap in a soccer match. Jon commented that Oprah was all over him. <3
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ooh, I wanted to share something several TDS related items.
I was at Barnes & Noble last weekend (last weekend of May 2019), and saw that the Daily Show Oral History Book is now on clearance.
I might be heading via train to the Newseum in DC later on in June to see Jon’s last desk on display there. They’re shutting down shop at the end of the year so make it up there if you can.
The Daily Show Weekly podcast brought up two specials I sent them from ‘99: The Daily View and Summer Spectacular.
#the daily show#jon stewart#the daily show with jon stewart#1999#lewis black#oprah#mo rocca#beth littleford#vance degeneres#billy joel#batman#tyra banks#john f kennedy jr#jfk jr
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So Emotional (Sashea) Chapter 6 -MissChimKi
A/N: Here’s a Thanksgiving chapter 2 months after Thanksgiving. I’m really going to try to get better with updating but I keep getting distracted by side projects.
Summary: Shea looked over at Sasha, who was completely frozen, she looked terrified and completely unsure of what to do. The tension in the room was almost unbearable, everyone not sure how to go about the awkwardness. It was like that for a moment before Trixie burst out laughing. Shea’s eyes stayed trained on Sasha who looked like she might burst into tears.
In which Sasha and Shea are roommates for their freshman year of college and Sasha is a useless lesbian who doesn’t want Shea to know that and Shea is just trying to live her best Chicago life while being in NYC.
Shea wasn’t sure how she’d done it but she’d managed to get through midterms and now she was in the home stretch of the semester. There was about a month left and Shea was ready for a break. College had chewed her up and spit her out but she was still alive somehow, and it was only the first semester so she knew it would only get harder.
She was laying on her stomach on her bed, sketching and writing in her journal. Sasha was across the room at her desk sketching something as well. Something was definitely different about her now. Ever since Halloween she had been sneaking off even more now. Sometimes being gone overnight, which had never happened before, so Shea was sure she was seeing someone, she just didn’t know why it was a secret.
She also didn’t know why she didn’t just ask. In these few months rooming with Sasha she felt closer to her than some people she’s known her whole life. And more than anything she wanted to continue building on this friendship. So she bit her tongue and never pried into Sasha’s social life.
Her phone buzzed and she groaned when she looked at it. It was her mom, texting her about Thanksgiving once again. Her family was set on her coming home but it was a long and expensive journey that she didn’t necessarily want to make. She just didn’t know how exactly to let them know that.
“You sound stressed,” Sasha commented from across the room.
Shea turned to her and nodded, “A little. My parents want me to come home for Thanksgiving next week and they keep sending me flight deals and whatnot but I don’t really want to go all the way to Chicago just for a weekend. Especially when I’m already going to be going home like two weeks later for winter break,” she explained.
Sasha nodded, “Yeah that makes sense.”
“Plus none of the other Chicago girls are planning on going home so I wouldn’t even be able to have a travel buddy,” Shea sighed, “I love my family and I miss them a lot but I really don’t want to go. They’ll be mad if I don’t though especially since I don’t have any other plans.”
Sasha looked thoughtful for a moment, “Well if you want you can spend it with my dad and I. We always do a full spread even though it’s just the two of us. It was my mom’s favorite holiday so we like to honor her. Actually maybe the other girls would want to come to, it could be a full thing.”
Shea smiled widely, “That would be amazing actually. And my parents wouldn’t be able to be mad about it either.”
“Awesome. I’ll tell my dad and extend an invitation to the other girls,” Sasha smiled back, pulling out her phone and texting her dad and then the group chat. Shea watched as Sasha smiled at a new text that appeared on her phone, that one wasn’t from anyone in the group message and Shea would be willing to bet it wasn’t her dad, but again, she didn’t want to push it so she just kept her mouth shut, put her earbuds in and went back to sketching.
*
Later day Shea called her mom to let her know her plans for Thanksgiving. Her mom was disappointed but she thought it was nice that Sasha offered to host her. She made Shea promise to make a pie to bring over and to be extra respectful. That made her roll her eyes of course because when was she not? Shea agreed with everything her parents said most of the time just because it was easier. The only times she’d really ever called them out was when they were making jokes about how many queer friends she had. She made sure they knew that their sexuality wasn’t a problem at all and it definitely wasn’t theirs. Other than that she usually just kept quiet when she disagreed.
One of the things Shea had prided herself in was being a ride or die type of friend. Once someone had her loyalty she would do anything for them. She constantly had defended Vixen back in high school, even when she was fighting a losing battle. She always made sure to defend her queer friends and wanted to be the best possible ally she could be to them. Her parents were more traditional though and while they were getting a little bit better when Shea would scold them, they still had some choice things to say.
Every time they brought up the subject of her friends they typically asked her if she was gay. She would always say that she wasn’t but that it wasn’t the point. She wondered if the tolerance that they had gained would be different if she herself was queer. She didn’t like to think about that because she loved her family with her whole heart and she didn’t want to think any of it was conditional. It didn’t matter though, because she was straight, but a part of her still wondered.
Her mom went through the motions of asking about school and her friends and telling her she needed to find some kind of part time job. They chatted about new friends and whatever else they needed to catch up on. Shea had been talking about Sasha a lot apparently. Probably because they spent so much time together and because she was a new addition into Shea’s life. Her mom seemed suspicious of something but Shea didn’t feel the need to defend anything. It didn’t matter what her mom thought anymore, not as much, and Shea didn’t mind this new mindset. She told her mother she loved her and hung up.
She buried her face into her pillow and groaned. Sasha was out again, no surprise now and Shea couldn’t help but feel lonely. She didn’t want to bug anyone though so she ignored it. She pulled out her computer and started watching a movie and eventually called it a night, at least she was getting more sleep now instead of talking to Sasha until 3am every night, but that was the only silver lining to the situation.
*
Thanksgiving had come sooner than Shea thought and the night before she made a pumpkin pie for dessert. Sasha poked fun at her and insisted that she didn’t need to bring anything but Shea had been raised to never enter someone’s home empty handed. A full stomach meant a full heart, plus no one could resist her mom’s pumpkin pie recipe. She and Sasha took the train to her dad’s house early in the morning to help him get all the food ready. The others would get there later in the afternoon for dinner. Again Sasha told Shea she didn’t need to do anything, but Shea wanted to. It was a good way to spend more time with Sasha and get to know more about her life history.
Sasha’s dad, Mark, greeted both of them with hugs which Shea was surprised by. “It’s wonderful to meet you Shea was hoping to meet you on move in day but I’m glad you and Sasha have become such good friends,” he smiled warmly at her.
“Yeah, I’ve heard a lot of roommate horror stories I’m thrilled that I got a great roomie and a best friend out of it,” Shea smiled back at both him and Sasha who had stopped glaring at her dad to blush at Shea’s statement.
“Well the turkey won’t stuff itself, come on,” Sasha changed the subject and led them into the kitchen.
“Is there anything specific you want me to do?” Shea asked, setting the pie down on the counter.
“Oh no, Shea you’re a guest and you were already kind enough to make a pie, you don’t have to do anything,” Mark told her.
Shea waved her hand, “I don’t mind at all, I’d feel bad if I didn’t help.”
“Well if you really insist on helping, I’ll probably have you help with food in a little bit but right now if you want to set table so we don’t have to worry about it, that would be great,” he said.
“Sounds good,” Shea agreed. Sasha showed her where all the plates and silverware were and Shea went to the dining room to get to it. She wasn’t necessarily eavesdropping but she couldn’t help but here Sasha telling her dad not to embarrass her and that these were her new friends and she didn’t want them thinking anything bad about her.
Shea smiled at that. It was sweet that Sasha genuinely wanted to impress them. Though she didn’t need to be worried. Shea and the others loved her and accepted her fully as a part of the group, getting to know her and her father more would only strengthen that bond.
Shea joined them in the kitchen again and was assigned to cutting up veggies or the salad. Sasha joined her once she finished making the whipped cream for the cranberry salad. Apparently Sasha’s dad had done a lot of prep work the day before so mostly he just had them doing busy work, but Shea was happy to help regardless.
“I am so ready for this food, can we just eat it all before everyone else gets here?” Shea joked, eating a carrot to help her rumbling stomach a little.
Sasha laughed, “I think Kim would single handedly fight you but Trixie would probably help anyways.”
Shea laughed along with her as they finished chopping all the veggies, it was nice to be spending this time with Sasha, considering she hadn’t seen her much in the past few weeks. Sasha’s dad waved them off when they asked what else needed to be done so they headed to the living room to watch the dog show. Neither was really very into it but both picked their favorite to win. It was no surprise that Sasha picked the greyhound. Shea chose the Bichon.
Both of their dogs ended up winning their categories but in the end they lost to the German Shepard. Shea’s dog ended up taking second though so she of course had to gloat.
“It’s just a dog show, it’s not even your actual dog,” Sasha pointed out, “Besides if Vanya was the one competing he would have no doubt won,” Sasha patted Vanya on the head.
Shea rolled her eyes, “I won’t argue with that,” she patted the spot beside her so Vanya would come next to her instead. Sasha pretended to be offended when the dog went over to Shea and accepted her head scratches.
“He seems to like you, he’s usually very finicky when it comes to people,” Sasha told her.
Shea smiled, “Well they do say dogs are the best judges of character.”
“They do,” Sasha agreed, “I might just have to keep you around then.”
“Like you have a choice,” Shea nudged her with her foot and they both giggled.
Sasha heard the doorbell ring and sprung up. “Oh I bet the others are here.”
Shea stood up as well and they went to answer the door. Sure enough the others were waiting outside. They all greeted each other with hugs and cheek kisses, even though they’d just seen each other the day before.
“Thank you so much for inviting us, I haven’t had a good home cooked meal in ages,” Kim gushed.
“It’s nice to have you all, seriously Thanksgiving is about being with family and friends so I’m happy to host you all,” Sasha told them.
“As am I,” Sasha’s dad came up behind them and put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder, “I’m Mark, it’s great to have you all here,” he smiled and greeted them all.
“Thank you again for having us, my mom wasn’t going to bother doing anything this year so it’s nice to be able to spend it somewhere,” Pearl thanked him.
Mark shrugged, “Of course, Sasha’s friends are always welcome here. Sasha would you get drinks for everyone everything is ready so we can get started soon.”
“I’ll help move everything to the table,” Shea offered while Sasha took everyone’s drink orders. She followed Mark into the kitchen and began moving all the food to the table. Within a few minutes everyone was settled in and ready to dig in. Shea was happy the Velour’s weren’t the religious type or the type to go around and share what they were thankful for. Instead they just got right into eating.
The dinner was mostly quiet, besides people asking for food to be passed they were all too busy stuffing their faces with all the delicious food. Once they were all full they decided to move out to the living room. Mark assured them that they could get the dishes later and that they could just relax for a little while. Shea definitely was in a food coma so sitting down was much needed for her.
“That was so good honestly, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to eat for like a week,” Shea joked, there were murmurs of agreement.
“Speak for yourself I’m still ready for that pie,” Kim looked wistful, probably thinking about all the dessert.
Shea smiled, “I mean my family’s pie recipe is kind of a big deal.”
“We’ll be the judges of that,” Pearl winked at her. She and Max were seated on the loveseat and there was definitely some love going on there. Ever since Pearl and Violet’s breakup the two had been closer than ever. Shea wasn’t sure exactly what was going on between them but she was happy for her friends nonetheless. Especially considering Max had been crushing on Pearl since the dawn of time pretty much. She hoped it worked out for them.
“You two seem like a lovely couple. How long have you been together?” Mark gestured to Pearl and Max who were cuddled up even more than before.
Max blushed, “Oh no we’re not.”
Pearl interjected, “It’s pretty new still. We’ve been friends for a long time and there’s always been the hint of something more lingering there, were just trying to take it slow and go with whatever happens,” she squeezed Max’s hand and the two shared a sweet smile. It made Shea smile as well, seeing her friends happy always brought her happiness.
“Well you two make a lovely couple,” he complimented before turning to Sasha, “What ever happened to Aquaria? You two were inseparable, I thought you had something special.”
Shea looked over at Sasha, who was completely frozen, she looked terrified and completely unsure of what to do.
The tension in the room was almost unbearable, everyone not sure how to go about the awkwardness. It was like that for a moment before Trixie burst out laughing. Shea’s eyes stayed trained on Sasha who looked like she might burst into tears.
When Trixie’s laughter died down she turned to Sasha, “I’m not laughing at you it’s just that a few months ago we were worried you might be homophobic so hearing that it’s the opposite is ironic,” she explained. Sasha seemed to ease up a little bit but the tension was still clearly there.
Her dad looked embarrassed, “I’m sorry Sash I didn’t realize,” he apologized.
Sasha seemed to find her voice, “No it’s fine,” she took a deep breath, “I wasn’t keeping anything hidden really I just didn’t think I needed to disclose anything.”
Pearl smiled at her warmly, a knowing look in her eyes, “No of course you didn’t. It’s fully up to you but everyone here is more than fine with it.” The others nodded in agreement.
Sasha gave a small smile, “I don’t want any kind of big deal to be made about it so if we could just move past it that would be great. Pie anyone?” she got up quickly to go set up dessert. The others followed her to the kitchen to eat pie in an awkward silence.
“I think I’m going to have dreams about that pie for the rest of my life,” Kim told Shea once they were done eating.
Shea laughed, “I can give you the recipe girl, it’s not some sort of secret recipe or anything.”
“I’m holding you to that,” Kim informed her.
Shea saw that Pearl had volunteered to do the dishes so she ventured over to help her.
“Need a hand?” she asked even though she had already begun drying dishes.
“I would say no but it wouldn’t make a difference,” Pearl smiled and continued to wash.
Shea glanced around to make sure everyone was in the other room, “So, you didn’t seem particularly shocked by that reveal,” she commented.
Pearl gave her a pointed look, “I mean it wasn’t that big of a surprise.”
“I thought it was,” Shea defended herself.
“Sasha’s like a textbook lesbian it really isn’t,” Pearl told her.
Shea sighed, “I just don’t get why she felt like she couldn’t tell me. We’ve gotten so close and I’ve told her basically everything important about me. I can’t help but wonder what else she’s been hiding from me.”
Pearl turned to look at her, pausing from the dishes, “I know that you’re feeling hurt but coming out is a scary thing in any extreme. When I came out to you all it was intimidating but I knew it would be okay and that everyone would accept me. She’s entitled to handle it however she wants, she probably just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Shea took a moment to think over what Pearl had said, “I’m not though. Nothing has changed and nothing is going to change.”
“I think you need to talk to Sasha then,” Pearl urged her.
Shea nodded then headed out to the other room where everyone else was. She scanned around for Sasha but didn’t see her. Mark saw her looking, “She went up to her room I think,” he pointed up the stairs, “Third door on the left.”
She thanked him and headed up the stairs. Sasha’s door was open but Shea still knocked to alert her of her presence.
“Hey, can I come in?” she asked.
Sasha nodded and Shea stepped into the room, “I think we should talk,” she announced.
“Okay,” Sasha agreed, going over to sit on her bed.
Shea made her way over and sat beside her. She took a second to organize her thoughts before speaking, “I’m not mad, I’m just a little hurt. I want you to know that this doesn’t change anything. You’re still my best friend and I love you no matter what.”
Sasha let out the breath that she was holding in, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was out in high school but I didn’t want to creep you out at first by telling you and then we got so close it just seemed weird to tell you. I didn’t know how to navigate the whole straight roommate thing,” she explained.
“I get it. I don’t want to feel like our friendship was artificial but that’s also a huge part of your life that you kept hidden and I’m worried that that was just the tip of the iceberg,” Shea admitted.
“That’s understandable, but at the same time how I chose to discuss my sexuality is my own business. You got to know me for me and everything about that was genuine,” Sasha offered.
Shea sighed, “I know and I believe that. I’ve had a past with putting too much into my friendships and relationships and getting way too invested in them. I’ll put in 100 percent and barely get 20 in return. I just always worry when people aren’t open with me especially when I’m as open as it gets.”
Sasha considered what she said for a moment before responding, “Well from now on you’re going to get way to much information on my gayness,” she joked.
Shea smiled, “Please I want all the dirty details. Starting with your secret girlfriend.”
Sasha looked shocked, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Shea rolled her eyes, “Please, you’re out all the time, sometimes overnight. I knew you were seeing someone but now I know it’s a girl.”
“Okay fine,” Sasha relented, “There is someone but she’s not my girlfriend, I don’t really know how to categorize what we are.”
“But you like her?” Shea inquired.
Sasha smiled at the ground, “Yeah I do.”
“When do I get to meet her?” Shea asked, “I gotta make sure she’s up to standard for you.”
“You just found out I’m gay how do you even know what my standards are for girls?” Sasha laughed.
Shea shrugged, “Well you obviously have higher standards since you like girls.”
Sasha giggled, “True. You can meet her sometime this week, we can go out for lunch or something.”
“I’ll look forward to it. We should probably go back downstairs we kinda just left everyone with your dad,” Shea pointed out.
“True.” They both stood up and Shea pulled her into a hug.
“I’m really glad you’re in my life I just want to reiterate how little it matters to me that you’re gay. You’re still my favorite person and now you even get to be my favorite gay person,” Shea told her once they pulled away from their drawn out hug.
Sasha shoved her, “Wow what an honor.” They linked arms and headed back downstairs to join the others once more.
*
After Thanksgiving Sasha and Shea’s friendship had grown even more. Sasha had told her all about Aja and Shea wouldn’t lie, she sounded like a pretty cool person and definitely someone Shea could be friends with.
Now that the cat was out of the bag it was pretty much all Sasha talked about. Aja and all of her friends from the bar. Shea couldn’t believe how much of Sasha’s life she’d been missing. It wasn’t like Sasha was a new person or anything but there was a new openness to her and it seemed like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Shea was happy she didn’t have to hide anymore and she made sure to listen to Sasha more dutifully than ever.
Shea had spent most of the week pestering Sasha about meeting Aja. Sasha promised it would happen soon but soon wasn’t soon enough so she kept nagging.
Finally Sasha had had enough of it and agreed to let Shea crash their lunch date that Wednesday. Shea was excited to meet Sasha’s not girlfriend. Shea was the type of friend to size up all of her friends potential love interests. She would give them the whole “if you hurt them I will kill you speech.” She liked to think it was intimidating and that her loyalty as a friend would be appreciated.
When they met for lunch Sasha was already done with classes for the day. Shea still had more to go but she had a gap in her schedule. Apparently Aja was a part time student who worked and made music on the side. It was a compromise with her parents and it seemed to be working out so far. She lived off campus with four other girls. She had her own room so it made sense that Sasha was over there most of the time.
Shea was early so she texted Sasha asking what to order for Aja and ordered for herself and Sasha while she waited. Sasha sent her order and arrived a few minutes after.
“Hey,” she greeted, “Aja should be here in a few, she’s coming from her house.”
Shea nodded. They chitchatted about their classes while they waited. Finally the girl in question showed up. Shea noted that her hair was curled and laid perfectly. She had a pretty face and a good fashion sense. Sasha could definitely do worse. What a horrible thought honestly, she really needed to tone down her whole over protective friend thing, but she couldn’t help that she cared so much.
“Hey sis,” Aja greeted Sasha with a hug, before turning to Shea, “You must be Shea, nice to finally meet you,” she surprised Shea by pulling her into a hug which Shea returned.
“You too, I’ve been hearing a lot about you lately,” Shea told her.
Aja grinned, “You as well, Sasha doesn’t shut up about you. I’ve been bugging her to meet you and the rest of your friends. Sash don’t take this the wrong way because being outed sucks but I don’t think it would have ever happened otherwise, and I’m happy that you don’t have to live two lives anymore,” she squeezed Sasha’s hand gently as she sat down beside her.
Sasha sighed, “You’re not wrong,” she admitted, “And I really am sorry for not telling you Shea. You’ve been nothing but supportive of me and your other friends I should’ve known I could trust you.”
Shea gave her a genuine smile, “It’s water under the bridge honestly,” she narrowed her eyes playfully, “But the dorm rules still stand, no fucking girls while I’m there, I’ll need at least an hour’s notice.”
Sasha reached across the table to shove her but she was laughing while she did it. Aja was laughing too but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Shea could sense some jealousy. She wasn’t entirely sure what the extent of Sasha and Aja’s relationship was. She knew they weren’t official but it seemed like something more than just hooking up. Shea hoped they figured it out soon because the tension was stressing her out already.
Their food came out and the conversation thinned out while they ate. Shea asked Aja all the typical questions about her life, her major and her roommates. Aja studied business to make her parents happy but her real passion was in song writing and rapping. She also worked as a barista on the side. She lived with her four best friends and the way her face lit up when she talked about them reminded Shea of herself when she talked about her friends.
She wasn’t entirely sure why but she wanted to dislike Aja upon meeting her. She knew it was wrong and bitter of her but she had a certain protectiveness over her friends. The problem was that Aja was actually really cool. She was totally the type of person that Shea would want to be friends with, and it was clear she liked Sasha a lot. While Sasha was hard to read at times Shea could tell that she liked Aja as well. If it was Shea’s approval that Sasha was seeing, which she doubted, she had it.
After finishing their food and chatting for a while more Sasha got up to use the restroom leaving Aja and Shea to deal with the inevitable awkward silence. “So,” Aja started, “You and Sasha are pretty close it seems.”
Shea nodded, her face lighting up, “Yeah I got really lucky with her as my roomie, it seems like it was meant to be.”
Aja had a tight smile on her lips, “Yeah I can see that, you guys are really something.”
Shea nodded, sensing some animosity she figured it would be best to tread carefully, “Yeah, well she is one of my best friends and I always look after my friends.”
“Yeah of course,” Aja replied.
Shea tried to keep a composed smile on her lips and a light tone, “I know you two aren’t official or anything, but I feel like it’s my duty to let you know if you ever hurt her, I will cut you, but also if she hurts you I’ll give her a stern talking to.”
Aja sighed, “And I totally respect that I really do, it’s just, can I ask you a question?”
Shea smiled hoping to loosen her up, “Sure anything.”
“You and Sasha are just friends right, there’s nothing more to it right?” Aja bit her lip nervously.
Shea paused for a moment before looking at Aja, “Yeah I guess I can see why you’d think that. Sasha has a special place in my heart for sure. But I’m very straight and even if I wasn’t we don’t see each other that way. Our connection is totally platonic. Don’t get me wrong though I’m gonna make sure she stays in my life because she is a great person to have in my corner. So even when you two are dating just know I won’t completely step to the side.”
Aja looked taken aback. She stayed silent for a moment before speaking, “Okay that’s fair the last thing I want to do is come between her and her friends.”
“Good I’m glad we’re in agreement now,” Shea took a sip of her now cold tea.
“Right,” Aja nodded firmly.
Shea was serious for a moment before she broke out into a grin, Aja did the same. “For what it’s worth I think you’re pretty chill, I’ll be sure to put in a good word for you.”
Aja grinned, “Wow thanks.”
Sasha finally returned with three shortbread cookies, “You two getting along?” she asked, taking her seat once again.
“Definitely,” Shea said through a bite of her cookie. She wasn’t completely lying either, she’d still keep an eye out, but Aja had passed the first test so Shea could stand down a little bit.
They finished their cookies and drinks before Aja had to head to work. Shea still had some time before her class and Sasha was done for the day so they hung around and talked still.
Once Sasha had finally had enough of the small talk she brought up the elephant in the room. Shea was surprised it took her so long honestly. “So tell me honestly. What did you think of Aja?” She looked hesitantly at Shea.
“She’s really cool, I’d like to get to know her more,” Shea told her earnestly, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.
Sasha gave her a relieved smile, “Oh great now do I have to be jealous about you two hitting it off?” she teased.
Shea rolled her eyes, “Oh yeah we’re gonna run away together and start a brewery/chicken farm.”
“Doesn’t sound very sanitary,” she raised a brow.
Shea waved her off, “We’re still working out the details.”
Sasha laughed, “Whatever you say.”
“Seriously though, you and Aja seem to really like each other, why aren’t you going for that?” she asked.
Sasha shrugged meekly, “It’s kinda stupid, but I was waiting to have someone to talk about it with I guess. You’ve been my go to person for advice lately and I just needed someone to talk it out with.”
Shea’s heart soared hearing that. She was happy to have Sasha’s full trust now and she wanted to keep it, “So let’s talk about it then,” she smiled.
Sasha let out a breath that she appeared to be holding in, before explaining everything that had been going on with Aja to Shea. Shea listened patiently, she had heard most of it but hearing it now after talking with Aja made her realize how serious it was.
“I really think you should go for it. Aja really likes you and it’s clear you feel the same so now that there’s nothing holding you back you should go get your girl,” Shea told her firmly.
“Yeah you’re right I think I will,” Sasha smiled.
“But you better not forget about your best friend while you do that,” Shea pressed.
“I could never,” Sasha said seriously, “And you should not forget about your class,” she pointed to the clock.”
Shea saw the time and jumped up immediately, “Shit I gotta go,” she gave Sasha a peck on the cheek, “You better keep me updated, I expect you to be in a relationship by tonight,” she called to Sasha as she ran out and straight to class.
*
When Shea got back to her room that night Sasha wasn’t there. She wasn’t surprised by it, she had figured that if she and Aja got together they’d probably want to spend some together. After the conversation she had had with Sasha today she was feeling confident that their friendship would remain solid so there was nothing to be jealous of. The pit in her stomach didn’t seem to be getting that memo though.
She tried to distract herself by texting her friends but they all seemed to be busy. She sighed and threw her phone on the bed and pulled up her English paper and began to work. She wished Sasha was there to help her proof it but maybe she could ask her to do it the next day.
Her phone buzzed and she got up to look at it. It was a text from Sasha telling her not to wait up and that she’d be at Aja’s that night and promised to tell Shea all the deets later.
Shea sent back ‘get it girl!’ with a winky face and decided to give up on writing her paper. Instead she decided to binge watch 90210 until it was time to get to sleep.
*
It was three days later when Shea started to understand the pit in her stomach. In those three days she hadn’t seen Sasha at all. She had been spending the night at Aja’s as well as meeting with her for lunches too apparently. Shea had tried to meet up with her multiple times but Aja seemed to always beat her to the punch. She didn’t expect to be so frustrated. She hadn’t realized how big of a space Sasha had taken up in her life until it was empty. She was getting sick of eating alone and not having someone to stay up late and talk with. She had even stayed the night with Kim and Trixie the night before just so she didn’t have to be alone.
All her classes were gearing up towards finals the next week so she had a lot of work and studying to do. Milk, Naomi and her had started a little study group for their shared classes so at least she had that.
Recently she had been doing some thinking about Milk and his flirting. He was an attractive guy and clearly had an interest in her. She had to think about why it was that she kept turning him down. She wasn’t bothered that he was bi or that he wore makeup and had a more feminine style. In fact she found it refreshing, but maybe there was a small part of her that felt a little uncomfortable with it and maybe she should start challenging that discomfort.
She pulled out her phone and sent a text to Milk asking if he was free for dinner that night and decided that whatever happened she would just go with it. There was no point in holding back anymore.
#college au#cisgirl au#lesbian au#group fic#pining#slowburn#sashea#sasha velour#shea coulee#trixie mattel#aja#pearl liaison#kim chi#max malanaphy#rpdr fanfiction#submission#misschimki#so emotional by chimki
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2018
I honestly don’t even know where to start.
How does one talk about a year like this?
I’ll try and start at the beginning.
The beginning of my 2018 was very hectic. I started the new year in London with my two closest friends. We were standing on Primrose Hill with probably a few hundred other people, waiting for Big Ben to chime in the new year, and the fireworks over London to start. It was freezing cold, but we had a blast.
We returned to Switzerland on January 01, I spent one very hectic day of double- and triple-checking my bags, and seeing some people for the last time for six months.
On January 03 I had my flight to New York City, via Dublin. It was….quite a day, I was highly emotional because everything seemed to fall apart, I had at least one anxiety attack, and it just wasn’t fun. But in the end—and after a night spent in a Dublin airport hotel—I arrived in my East Harlem airbnb in New York for my Stay Abroad around midnight between January 04 and 05.
What I did in New York for my six months stay, you can read on this blog right here, beginning with Part I. You can find links for the other parts at the end of that post.
Being in New York was a highly enjoyable time for me. It gave me the opportunity to become more of myself, be who I am more honestly, more truly, and more openly. I learned a whole lot about the film industry, about so many integral parts of what makes movies good, I learned a lot about myself, who I am and who I want to be, but I think most importantly, and most prominently, I met so many wonderful people who share a lot of interests with me, and who made this adventure unforgettable.
At the end of my time in New York, my mom came to visit me for a week, and we did all the touristy things. We walked up and down Broadway, we saw Time Square, we did The Empire State Building, visited the 9/11 Memorial and the museum, I took her to Brooklyn to eat at Peaches and then we went all the way down to Coney Island. We went all the way up to Washington Heights, went to the MoMA, walked a bit in Central Park, and visited my stomping ground from the Filmmaking Workshop (including eating at Café Katja and going up on the rooftop of my friend’s airbnb). I took her to NYFA where I spent most of my time these six months, she met some of my friends, she had my well-loved lobby-guy-iced-coffee, and ate the deli salad that I had eaten so many times. We saw Hello Dolly thanks to my lovely host, we did the Liberty and Ellis Island boat tour, we found the place Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan finally kiss in You’ve Got Mail (91st Street Garden, Riverside Park), and saw Ocean’s Eight. We both flew back home on July 12, ending my six months adventure in NYC.
And then came the slump.
I came home from six months of doing things I’ve never done before, I came home to good old Switzerland — which at first I was very happy about because I was so TIRED, but there were reasons why I was excited to leave in the first place, so y’know, that was certain to catch up with me — and I was like, what now? And I had no idea.
I hung out with friends and watched the World Cup finale. But then I also went to my grandma’s funeral. But then I saw my dad, and went to a birthday of a friend. I went to the movies, and was able to work for a few days. I went to my cousin’s birthday dinner, my friend’s bachelorette party, a park event of our church.
I was able to celebrate my own birthday with people who I cared about, went to brunch with another dear friend, and yet another birthday. And more work. And my friend’s wedding.
All those things (except the funeral of course) were really cool and I enjoyed seeing my friends, my people.
But in all of that I was just….lost.
I came home from six months of doing so much cool stuff, speaking a language I feel way more comfortable in than my mother tongue, met people I can hopefully call friends for life, became more comfortable in my own skin and started taking steps into the direction where my true self was waiting—I came home, new me came home into old me’s home, and I was lost.
University started and while I missed some of it, I also realised more and more how much I really hated other things.
And during all of that, I was living with friends dear to me for three months. And during that time I realised even more that how things are right now is not a way they can stay for much longer.
Luckily, one of my circumstances changed within the first few weeks of studying. I looked at an apartment with my mom, we both loved it, I applied for it the next day, and the day after that, I got the phone call that I got the place. I was able to move in on October 20, and the rest is history. Having my very own place, where only I live and nobody else, has been very good for me. It’s giving me an even clearer picture of who I am and where I want to go next year.
More lovely birthdays filled those months, more fantastic movies, good days with friends, with family, and some actually really decent days at university. I binge-watched The Mentalist within a month, started reading a book again that I really like, and for a while there, the slump stopped, and I wasn’t so lost anymore.
I finally got my ass to my doctor and did some general check-up, found out that my iron is pretty low and I’m taking stuff for that now, I was able to have a very honest conversation with my doc and she’s forwarded my info to a psychiatrist who should contact me in the next few weeks or months, so that I can start my 2019 knowing that things might actually start going in the right direction for once.
I know, this all sounds like a very good year over all. And it was, for some parts. But 2018 didn’t go by without anything bad happening. Sure, most bad things that happened this year, didn’t personally affect me. I’m not one of the kids separated from their parents at the border. I’m not one of the kids whose school got shot up by a lunatic. I’m not part of a caravan looking for refuge and not being accepted in a country that prides itself to be a country where everyone is accepted. I’m not an unwillingly pregnant woman who can’t get an abortion in my own country. I’m not one of the many people who have lost loved ones to gun violence, white supremacy, racism, homophobia, and many more reasons this year.
I’m lucky, you know. I’m not from a country lead by dictators, white supremacists or literal nazis. I don’t live in a war zone. I’m also white and 99 out of a 100 times don’t get people yelling obscenities at me on the street. I don’t have to fear being assaulted when I walk alone at night, I don’t have to be afraid when police approaches me, I don’t get harassed for how I look or how I speak or where I’m from. I’m lucky.
But hearing these stories every day, reading about so much injustice and hate every day, opening twitter to connect to my international friends and seeing all this crap that is happening every day all over the world, it doesn’t just go by you without having an impact. I lived in a country currently lead by an actual literal fucking nazi and his fucking nazi friends for six months, and even though I lived in New York City, which is kind of a bubble within the states, I felt that, I felt the impact this leadership — or lack thereof — had on the people of this country. I listened. I heard people talk. I had these conversations myself. Living among people who are afraid every day of their lives because the person who is supposed to be leading this country into a brighter future, is an actual nazi who thinks it’s okay that people don’t have access to health care, that children are taken away from their parents, that children keep dying, that people fleeing bad circumstances are being detained in prison camps, this fear doesn’t just go by you. I could go on, but I’m already sick to my stomach just thinking about all this.
I experienced this fear during those six months. Not personally, but I felt it all around me. And, if you are even remotely a decent person with some percentage of compassion, that doesn’t leave you unscathed. It makes me angry and sad and frustrated.
2018 was a hell of a year, and I don’t mean that positively.
I still believe there are good people in this world. I see it. I see them every day. I know they exist, I know they’re there, and I know they fight for a better future. But damn. I also see so much hate, so much injustice, so much of what should not be there.
I thought about quitting twitter or at least unfollowing/muting all political talk, because I just keeps dragging me down. But I didn’t. I can’t. I refuse to turn around and close my eyes on all this crap that is happening. If I don’t have twitter, there will come a moment, where I won’t have any idea what is happening, and that will make me susceptible to all the lies that are being told and I can’t have that. I refuse to be one of the sheep who just follows where everyone else goes. Even if my mental health takes a toll, and it does and it will, I refuse to turn a blind eye to what is happening.
I don’t know what these last days of 2018 still hold. I have this week of class left. I have my English Department Christmas Party to go to, I have Christmas with Mom, Christmas with Dad, Christmas with my Quasi-Family, Christmas with my friends. I have some days in between with no plans, I have no clue what I’ll do on New Year’s Eve. I have these plans, but so much could still be happening.
As for 2019….I don’t know what to expect. I have hopes, of course. Doubts, sure. Wishes, definitely. Some plans here and there, too. But who knows what exactly it’ll bring.
I don’t usually do this — I don’t think I’ve actually every done this — but here’s a list of things I’d like to achieve in 2019:
Finish my Bachelor’s Degree.
Have at leats one hands-on creative outlet.
See a Psychiatrist and establish a routine with them.
Establish a basic workout routine that doesn’t require a gym.
Find a job OR decide which Masters to do.
I’m gonna keep it at that. Start small, right?
If everything goes how it’s seems right now, points 1 and 3 are already looking very good. We’ll work on the rest.
On a global scale, I don’t expect there to be any changes in 2019. I hope, of course, but I don’t expect it. Personally, however, I hope that 2019 can be a good year for me. Taking me further on this journey that I started a while ago. I have a feeling that it will do that. I’m hopeful.
I wish you all a very pleasant festive time, and a hopefully not horrible rest of 2018. You deserve good things and I wish you all the best of them. Hug some loved ones. Indulge in something you like. We only have this one live, might as well make the best of it.
Merry Christmas, guys.
#2018#end of year#christmas#long post#stream of conciousness#textpost#text post#thoughts#hopes#wishes
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As Alec walks into the New York Police Department, the first thought that hits him is that this place is so much more lively than the Institute. For a simple errand, he’s decided to forego the total glamour, settled for only hiding his runes, as that is more convenient; Luke doesn’t have to make it look like he’s talking to something other than air, while Alec can just pose as a friend that swung by to chat. He almost fits in with his dark get-up between all the navy uniforms, and nobody really pays attention to him, which he’s glad for.
He slinks past the information desk, tips of his ears still subtly burning from the flirting debacle months before, then does a casual jog up the stairs to the first story. His senses are overwhelmed by all the noises and visuals around him - fax machines robotically spit out paper after paper, phones ring in unison from different corners of the floor, people chatter about cases and daily life; Alec has to constantly sidestep out of someone’s way, once or twice doing the awkward waltz where both people move in the same direction.
He manages to find Luke’s office after walking through labyrinth-like corridors, all laden with wood-paneling and illuminated by yellow-tinted lights hanging overhead. Everything here reminds Alec of those old cliche crime novels and noir movies Magnus has a soft spot for, even the ‘Det. Luke Garroway’ written in bold lettering over the rippled glass in the door. With a perfunctory knock, Alec peeks his head inside, almost expecting to find Luke in a beige trenchcoat and with a cigarette between his fingers, the off-white smoke curling in wisps towards the ceiling.
Instead, the werewolf is sat at his desk with his feet up on it, a cup of what Alec assumes to be coffee in his hands. When he sees Alec, he smiles wide, with a wave of a hand welcoming him further in.
“Hey, man, good to see you,” Luke says, setting down his mug and straightening up before shaking Alec’s hand, cold from the autumn chill outside.
“It’s been a while,” Alec answers, unzipping his coat and searching through the leather messenger bag hanging on his shoulder. “You should come by more often, Magnus has been complaining about you missing cards night last week.”
In quite a short timespan, Luke has gone from an associate Alec worked with out of convenience to a close friend and basically family at this point, an unmovable fixture in the Lightwood home. Through all of the harrowing events in their crazy lives, he’s been there from the beginning to the end, a loyal and dependable man that has stolen Maryse Lightwood’s heart with his steadfast strength and that charming smile.
Magnus has once told Alec over a glass of wine that he’s glad they’re all friends now, and Alec couldn’t agree more. Secretly, he and Magnus have been planning to ask Luke to ordain their wedding, but so far there hasn’t been a good moment for that; it doesn’t seem right to drop the bomb on him just in the middle of a case or over a quick beer at the bar.
Luke rolls his eyes with a chuckle as he accepts the files Alec hands him, segregated neatly into three manila-colored folders.
“I’ll make it up to him, I promise, cross my heart and all that.”
He starts thumbing through the files, eyes flicking over lines of text and attached photos; Alec watches him for a bit, perched on the edge of his desk, but finds it awkward to stare so his gaze starts to wander about the office.
He’s not here often, so he takes in the dark decor, the other desk he passed earlier, much less cluttered than Luke’s, a brown leather jacket draped over the back of the swivel chair. The din and chaos of the station are subdued here, reduced to a steady murmur; the fan above their heads makes a soft noise each time it turns, just lazily pushing the warm air around.
“How’s Maryse?” Luke inquires, aiming for casualness, but missing the ballpark entirely; Alec knows how much time these two have been spending together lately, going on small little dates, holding hands when nobody is looking, and eating dinner together during Luke’s breaks at the precinct. And Alec’s glad for it, he really is, as he hasn’t seen his mom this happy in what feels like forever. When she smiles now, she glows, radiant and more beautiful than when she ever was with Robert.
She’s in love and how does Alec know that? He looks at Magnus the exact same way.
“She’s good, although a little stressed.” Alec senses Luke’s eyes on the side of his head as he glances down at his linked fingers. “She’s filing for divorce next week. I’m sure she’d enjoy your company.” He adds meaningfully, looking up with a soft smile tucked into the corner of his mouth.
Luke smiles as well, pleasantly surprised with Alec’s words. “You’re okay with me getting together with your mom?”
Alec shrugs, running the pad of his thumb over the ring on one of his fingers. “You make her happy, so why wouldn’t I?”
The werewolf sighs, mouth slack as if he’s weighing what to say next, but it turns into a grin he tries to hide by looking down at the files again - Alec can see his eyes crinkle at the corners, the way they do when he laughs at his own dad jokes; when he’s happy.
After a moment, Luke closes the file he’s been browsing through, an air of seriousness hanging between him and Alec.
“I’m glad,” he says earnestly and before it can get too sappy, he adds, “Also there are probably the most detailed mortuary reports I have ever seen in my career.”
“I’ll make sure to tell Izzy,” Alec chuckles, pride curling in his chest at the praise of his sister’s work. Since she’s back and healthy, she’s been working harder than ever before, picking up new responsibilities and basically becoming Alec’s trusted right hand.
“I’m gonna go give these to the evidence folk for comparison, be right back,” Luke announces and as he passes by, he cordially claps Alec on the shoulder and then the shadowhunter is left alone, yet not for long.
After a minute or two, the door creaks open again and a woman walks in, head bowed down in focus, holding a conversation with a person on the other side of the phone stuck to her ear.
She seems familiar, all tall frame and long brown hair - at first Alec can’t quite put his finger on it, but he quickly realizes she is Luke’s snooping partner. Alec has seen her during the Azazel case and later when they had to deal with the fallout from when she found out about the Shadow World. They debated how to deal with her having proof of the existence of NYC werewolf packs during the weekly council meeting and in the end, they’ve decided against clearing her memory (again), since it was just a matter of time before she’d be back sleuthing.
For the first few weeks after she and her partner were sworn to secrecy, they were monitored just in case something slipped out, but aside from bombarding Luke with tons of questions about, well, everything, she’s been staying low and not meddling with any more affairs.
“We have some suspects for the Harley case, but I can’t tell you anything solid before the analytics lab gets back to me about the substances found at the scene.” The woman - Ollie - looks up, sensing someone is in the room with her. Her eyes narrow at Alec and a mix of barely concealed curiosity and distrust settles in her expression, her whole body tensing up for a possible fight.
“I’ll call you back,” she barks out and ends her conversation. With the phone still by her ear, she moves her arm towards the holster sitting on her hip, gun secured inside.
Alec placatingly lifts his palms to shoulder level, just on the right side of amused. While it wouldn’t be difficult to move out of her aim with the help of his speed rune, Alec’s never been too fond of firearms in general, too unpredictable and destructive for his liking.
“I’m just running an errand for Detective Garroway, none of that is necessary.”
Ollie visibly relaxes, but that last thread of wariness is tightly woven into her posture as she lets her cell clatter onto the desk, choosing to lean against the back of her chair instead. She observes Alec and he allows it, only cocking up a questioning eyebrow.
“Are you a werewolf from Luke’s pack?” Ollie asks without any preamble; Alec appreciates the straightforwardness, but he can understand why Luke sometimes looks like he just got done with a six hours long interrogation.
Alec shakes his head with a quiet chuckle. “No. I’d tell you what I am, but that’s against the law.”
“Are you really giving me the old ‘if I told you, I would have to kill you’ spiel? I’m not-” Ollie stops abruptly in her tracks as realization dawns on her face. “You’re not kidding, huh.”
“Nope.”
Ollie is about to ask another question, undoubtedly one Alec can’t answer either, but before that can happen her phone starts ringing, the vibrations shaking the entire surface of the desk. Involuntarily, he glances at the caller’s ID which shows the name ‘Samantha’ on top of a selfie of Ollie kissing another woman on the cheek, one with darker hair and a wide grin.
She hastily grabs the cellphone and swipes across the screen, strands of hair flying into her face. The conversation is mostly one-sided, only interrupted by Ollie’s hums of acknowledgment; she doesn’t seem to realize the soft smile inching its way across her lips. As much as Alec tries not to stare, he can’t help but notice how different she looks with her guard down, how the caution directed at Alec falls away to reveal a gentler side.
“Yes, I’ll buy cookie dough. No, I won’t forget. Yes, I know I’m the best. Love you.” She hangs up and smiles sheepishly at Alec, caught in a moment of weakness in front of a stranger. “That was my girlfriend, Sammy,” She adds as an explanation, and while her voice is still friendly, Ollie stands a little taller, her chin tilted up defiantly.
She’s silently challenging Alec to call out her choice of words, to doubt her relationship like most of the world; Alec feels like he’s seeing himself in a strange mirror, all the moments in which he introduced Magnus as his boyfriend, held his hand and kissed him in public. He used to be scared, but not anymore - now he’s proud to love Magnus and ready to fight anyone who disapproves, shoulders squared and eyes intense.
“Don’t worry about it. My partner does something like this too, he calls me to make sure I ate something other than granola bars and coffee.” Alec says with a faint laugh, but this is more than a relatable moment - it’s two people from entirely different worlds finding a connection, encountering the intrinsic solidarity that comes with similar experiences. Alec might already like Ollie just a little bit more, no reason at all.
The atmosphere between them warms and Ollie pulls out her chair, sitting on it the wrong way around, forearms resting across the back.
“Oh, that’s sweet! What’s his name? Tell me something about him,” She inquires like an old friend, chin propped up on a palm and interest gleaming in her eyes.
Usually, Alec would cut her investigation short, but there’s a certain pleasure that comes from talking to others about how great Magnus is, so he indulges in it, more open than he’d usually be - especially to a Mundane.
“His name is Magnus,” Alec speaks slowly, picking through all the information about the love of his life that’s stored in his brain, from how many sugars he takes in his tea, through all the important dates to all the painful confessions. “He’s a little bit older than me, has a great fashion sense and is the most incredible person I’ve ever met.”
Ollie coos teasingly at Alec’s sappiness, then laughs when he rolls his eyes. “How long have you guys been boyfriends?”
“Over a year now.” Alec folds his hands together, thumb running against the smooth gold of the ring. It’s been a couple of months since Magnus has proposed to Alec and slid the band onto his finger with utmost reverence, kissing him breathless after.
Sometimes, Alec still can’t believe it all happened - turning to see Magnus down on one knee, his golden eyes filled with love and devotion, hearing ‘Alexander, will you marry me?’ and getting to answer with ‘Yes, yes, of course I will’, because there was never a doubt in his heart.
Alec shakes his head to get out of his thoughts and back into the real world before he looks up at Ollie. “You know, we got engaged. So technically, he’s my fiancé.”
It feels so good to say the words out loud, hear them ring through the room with pride. There are moments when Alec glances over at Magnus doing something entirely ordinary and the need to tell the entire world about their love skyrockets until he wants to climb the tallest NYC skyscraper and shout it from the top.
The smile on Ollie’s face grows tenfold and she draws a little closer, pushing herself over on the swivel chair.
“Congratulations are in order.” Head tilted to the side, Ollie juts her chin towards Alec’s palm. “Could I see the ring?”
With a nod, Alec stretches out his arm and Ollie lightly takes hold of his palm, turning it slightly this and that way. He’s almost used to it by now, after breaking the news to his closest people so many times, whether alone or with Magnus at his side. They compliment the ring and tell him how amazing it is to see both of them so happy, how bright Alec’s eyes are and how much he has changed. And he loves it all, he really does, preening on all of the praise, taking in their unwavering support and joy over his and Magnus’ prosperity.
Ollie admires the ring with a complicated expression, delighted yet wistful in a way, almost longing.
“I’m happy for you, Alec.” She tells him quietly, swallows around the next words. “I hope I get to be in your shoes one day.”
Alec’s heart gives a painful tug and he sighs, pulling his hand free to set it on Ollie’s forearm, squeezing gently.
“You will, I’m sure.”
At times, it feels like all hope is lost, but Alec now knows that it’s important to fight for his own happiness, even when the world seems bleak. Despite people telling them nothing could be done, he and Magnus didn't give up, didn't throw in the towel when troubles weighed down their shoulders. They’ve made it so far and they keep going strong, already setting next goals to achieve.
“The ring is engraved and do you know what it says?” Alec pauses for dramatic effect, a lopsided smile bright on his face. “Amor vincit omnia. Love conquers all.”
A comfortable silence falls across the room as Alec takes his hand back, once again starting to play with his ring, a constant reminder of his contentment, his home, the stability it brings. If someone told him that one day he’d be telling someone else that it does really get better, that dreams of loving freely are achievable, he would laugh and call them insane; yet, here he is.
Ollie sighs, eyes downcast and thoughtful when she rises from her seat, then wanders back to her desk. She raps her ringed knuckles against the wood and then leans her hip against it, obviously gathering the right words to say next. “Should I be expecting a wedding invitation anytime soon?” She quips, but there is a thankful note to it, an answer given without obvious words.
“I’ll try to squeeze you in between all the magical folk already on the list,” Alec jokes back.
Their conversation is interrupted by Luke, who freezes in the doorstep, at first just looking between Alec and Ollie as if he can’t believe they aren’t at each other’s throats yet, or at least haven’t started digging the trenches to hide in. With a short, pleased hum, Luke smiles to himself, crosses over to where Alec is to hand him another bundle of files.
“These are all the evidence reports relevant to the case. I thought they might come in handy, see if you can make any connections.” He informs Alec, voice lowered for the sake of privacy and Alec nods in response, halfway through putting the documents in his bag where they’ll be safe and sound until he can drop them off at Izzy’s desk.
They both look up to Ollie watching them conspicuously, clearly not interested in any personal boundaries as Alec has realized long ago. He and Luke share a knowing look and Alec stands up. “I’ll be going then. Luke, see you later?”
“You got it. Say hello to your mother for me.”
Alec gives a two fingered salute to both of them as he moves back towards the door. When he passes by Ollie’s desk, she shoots him a conspiratory wink, like there’s a secret only the two of them are privy to. As the door closes behind him, Alec can hear Ollie ask about his mom and the first half of Luke’s heavy and pained exhale.
It’s been a productive first half of the day, Alec thinks - he surprised Magnus with breakfast in bed, held a meeting at the OPS Center, met Maryse for coffee amongst all the other things, and perhaps the most important one of all: he made an unlikely friend.
#malec#shadowhunters#posibanesquad#blushyalec#hwob#userrahul#magnusragnor#daddariossmile#magnusbaene#hufflebee#userri#gayndsoft#magnusbanne#belovedbane#my fics#GIANT THANK YOU to the loveliest ellie (magnusbaene) who is an angel#who beta'd this#it has ollie and alec bonding as gays#dad wolf bc alec needs a proper father figure/friend#malec fluffiness#and some lukemaryse for good measure because i adore them
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Jane’s Journal -- Day 127
A/N : This is the final Journal entry. The second book in the series will be starting next.
T/W: Angst. Mentions of past drug use and mental health issues
December 24, 2003 Day 127
I wish I could say that I took Aunt Carys's advice to heart, lept up and called Roger, but a large feature of that Hughes tenacity lies in a sort of stubbornness and bloody-mindedness that makes it hard to change tracks. I started wallowing a little less as I stepped outside myself and saw the bigger picture, but the riff between Roger and myself had grown an into an ocean and I wasn't sure how to bridge it anymore. Somewhere along the line, my anger with him had morphed into shame at the way I had behaved. I missed him with everything that was in me but I was too much of a coward to pick up the phone.
His show would be wrapping up with a Christmas Eve matinee and then, according to Mom, he was going to catch an evening flight home so he could be here for Christmas. He had asked her repeatedly if I would be in attendance. I wouldn't let her say. I wouldn't give her a definitive answer. She had finally lost her temper with me and pointed out that just because I was the one that brought Roger into our family it didn't give me the right to single-handedly toss him out. He'd already had enough of that in his life. It was time for me to grow up and stop behaving as if this were some middle school spat. Roger was family. We had all agreed on that a long time ago, and in our family, we didn't throw people away when they upset us.
Properly cowed, I came up with a plan and booked a flight to New York. I figured I need to settle things at the apartment at the very least and I thought maybe Roger and I could share the flight back and have a long overdue talk. When I showed up at the apartment on the 23rd however, there was no sign of Roger at our place, and judging by the refrigerator contents he hadn't been staying there recently. My plan had hit a snag.
I was left alone to drift aimlessly through the now alien space. When I walked into my bedroom my heart nearly stopped. I realized the last time I had set foot in the place was before flying out to see Shannon back in August. The room was still a mess from packing, with rejected clothing piled on the bed. I spotted his old Def Leppard t-shirt that I had often slept in when he was gone, and several 30 Seconds to Mars t-shirts I had considered taking with me but ultimately left behind. My stomach turned as I picked the first one up, and I had brought it to my nose to see if there was a trace of his scent left behind before I even realized what I was doing. Angry with myself, I tossed it onto the center of the bed before grabbing the wastebasket from under my desk. I started throwing in everything that reminded me of Shannon or Jared, walking through the house to gather CD's and postcards, notes, pictures, stuffed animals from the midway, even the boots I had bought to wear to the first concert of theirs I had gone to. I was surprised how much of it there was. I tossed the bag into the hall closet in case Roger wanted any of it and went back to packing up my room.
I spent that night in the apartment by myself. I had hoped Roger might come home despite indications that he wasn't living there anymore but he never appeared. I spent the next morning finishing my packing, my belongings all sorted into neatly labeled boxes in the center of my bedroom that I could easily have a service come and pick up later. Then I ordered lunch, showered and dressed for the theater.
The performance was sold out so I was reduced to taking my chances with whatever scalpers would be on hand. I knew it was risky, but “Fortuna favet fatius.', fortune favors fools and soon I found myself with a rather choice seat, nervously thumbing the glossy program and waiting for the show to start.
Our junior year the drama department had put on an adaptation of Anne of Green Gables. Roger had done amazingly well at the audition and had landed the part of Gilbert Blythe. I was overjoyed. Anne of Green Gables was one of my favorite books and I was so proud of Roger. He'd done a few shows before and had been okay, and he'd worked very hard rehearsing for the part but when it came time for the actual performance he had bombed. It wasn't just simple stage fright, he had suddenly become that weird kid in the fourth-grade play that said all his lines in a strange falsetto while he grinned at the audience and did incongruous things with his hands. He refused to go on after the first night and the understudy had to finish the run. He had been heartbroken. He'd already made big plans to become a famous actor, it was part of our “Roger and Janey Take Over the World” scheme, and having his hopes dashed just crushed him. It had taken months of Daphne nagging him to get him to start taking acting classes. I wasn't sure how we had gotten from there to here, him starring as Bob Cratchett in NYC in a not exactly Broadway but not exactly a dive theater either production of A Christmas Carol. I hoped that we would be able to iron things out so he could share that journey with me.
To say I was terrified when he made that first appearance on stage would be putting it mildly. But to be honest, if I hadn't known it was Roger in the role I might have not even realized. He had transformed himself completely, And where the hell had that British accent come from? I know being American I probably wasn't the best judge but he sounded spot on to my ears. I was completely blown away by his performance, and judging by the people sitting around me, so was the rest of the audience. I was bursting with pride by the time the curtain fell.
I am going to tell you right now that whoever says beauty is overrated is lying to you. I have lived on both sides of that road. Plain Jane would have been ushered back out into the street with the rest of the crowd. I knew I was going to need Hot Jane today so I had come prepared, dressed to the teeth, carefully coiffed and wearing what felt like half the Barney's cosmetic counter on my face. It took a total of eight minutes to charm my way backstage to the dressing rooms.
Roger had just sat down to start removing his makeup and there was a girl seated on the table in front of him, giggling and tossing her hair while she crossed and uncrossed her obscenely long legs. Roger looked about as interested as a lion who'd been offered a broccoli sandwich. I giggled at the sight and Roger dropped the sponge he had been holding before rapidly turning my way.
“Janey?”
“Hey, Rog.” My mouth was suddenly dry but my eyes weren't. It felt like we were seeing each other after being separated by war, tired and battered bystanders who had found each other again at a refugee camp. I had worried that he would be angry with me, that I had been so steadfastly cold with him that he would never be more than an acquaintance again. Instead, he lept to his feet, nearly knocking his hapless admirer off her perch and rushed toward me, sweeping me up in his arms and swinging me around so enthusiastically that one of my wildly impractical heels went flying off my foot. I remembered again he was too good for me.
“I'm so sorry, Roger,” I tried to explain. “I should have come to you and tried to work things out months ago....”
“Hush,” he told me as he sat me back down and scrambled after the shoe I had lost. “I was terrible to you when you needed me. You don't have anything to apologize for.”
“But I do....” I protested.
“Let me get cleaned up and changed and then we can argue about it all you want,” he said. The girl who had been flirting with him gave me a haughty look and then flounced off, probably wrongly assuming I was her competition. “Oh shit, I've got a flight back home tonight! Aren't you going home for Christmas?”
I nodded. “Mom gave me your flight info. I came into town to see you last night but you weren't home. I packed up my things at the apartment but I'm on the flight home with you.”
Roger frowned and sat down in his chair again with a heavy thud. “I don't understand. What did you pack? Why?”
“I'm going to Tanzania with a volunteer group. I don't know when I'll be back in the States. It could be months or it literally be years. I don't need anything that's there, and I figure if you wanted to sell the place or move if everything was already packed up all you'd have to do is call a service to come collect it. I can just pay for a storage until I suss out what to do next.”
“Janey...” The smile that been on Roger's face when he embraced me was gone and I felt terrible. “I thought that...” He swallowed hard and picked up the makeup removal pad again and started dabbing harshly at his face. “So you are still mad, at me.”
“No.”
“Then why are you leaving me again?”
“I'm not leaving you, Roger. I'm trying to fix myself.”
“You're not broken.”
“Actually, yeah, I really am. But I'm working on it.”
He didn't say anything else as he continued washing away the stage makeup. When he had finished he looked back at me and I swear his face looked years older, deeply tired in a way I had never seen on him before. I wondered what had happened to him during the last 127 days. A bad feeling began to take root in my gut.
“You were brilliant out there, Roger. I'm so proud of you,” I offered.
He nodded. “Can we go home now?”
“Sure,” I said, spotting his coat hanging on the wall and handing it to him. “Anything you want.”
*************************************
Roger already had an overnight bag ready for his trip to the airport but I needed to swing back by our place so we hopped on the C-Line for a last trip home together. He was quiet the entire way, and although I tried to fill the awkward silence with tales of my travels, Roger never engaged, just quietly nodded and folded his hands over and over themselves. I didn't want to cause a scene in public so I let it go and just kept on with the nervous chatter but I was so relieved to finally reach our stop I practically jumped off the train and power walked until we were inside our building and through the front door.
“When is the last time you were even home?” I asked him as we shed our coats in the foyer.
“A couple of days ago, actually. We had a cast thing last night. That's why I wasn't here,” he explained.
“Oh.” I had kind of hoped he'd been staying with someone else maybe, or just leading too fabulous a life to be bothered to come back to an empty apartment. I looked at the keychain in my hands, the door key still separated from the rest. “Do you want me to leave my key?” I asked. “It doesn't seem right for me to just come and go when I'm not really living here anymore.”
“I thought you were back. When you showed up at the theater, here, in New York and all... well I just thought you were back.”
I shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, not meeting his eyes. “I already committed to this volunteer thing, Roger. And I think it's going to be good for me. I'm getting back out in the world again, for real, not just a spoiled little party girl.”
“You aren't a spoiled little party girl, Jane.” Roger's voice was quiet and uneven and I didn't know where this was going but I could feel my own lips starting to tremble.
“I was so spoiled and helpless and blind....” I managed to mutter before he cut me off.
“It wasn't your fault Jane. You don't have to do penance.”
“I knew better. Or at least I should have. You told me how Shannon was, I saw it myself before I even let him back in...”
“I don't mean Shannon.” Roger avoiding looking at me when he said it, but the lump in my throat was there just the same.
“Roger. Please don't....”
“Someone has to say it, Jane.”
“No, they don't. It's not like I don't know.”
“I think it is. Do you want to know what I've done for the last five months? I've worked and seen a therapist. Because as broken as you think you are I'm a hundred times worse.” Roger sat down in the middle of the floor, crossing his long legs one over the other. “I could never help him, Jane. I couldn't reach him, I couldn't stop him, and couldn't stop you or me...”
I sat down on the floor across from Roger, pulling his hands into my lap. “Roger, it wasn't like that.”
“I was so fucking scared, Jane. Jared said you had seemed so hurt, you were completely lost, and you weren't talking to anyone...”
I hadn't thought of things that way. I really hadn't thought much of anything through at that point, I was a whirlwind of my own grief and anger. “I'm sorry, Roger. I would never leave you like that. I would never....” A chill like ice water in my veins passed over me. “Roger, what do you mean you couldn't stop you?”
“Not like that,” he said a little too quickly, pulling his hands back from me. “I just … dammit, Jane. Everyone keeps leaving, like I'm nothing. Jefferson didn't even... “ Roger's breathing had become shallow and I could see the distress in his eyes. “The only woman I've ever dated longer than a week dumped me while pretty much saying she could do better. My mother died and my entire family apparently voted to keep me away from the funeral. I pushed my best friend away. I pushed all my friends away, all the good ones that is. The only ones that would even put up with my shit...”
Roger let himself fall forward, his head nestling in my lap. I wrapped my arms around him as best I could. “I'm so sorry, Roger. I knew you were in trouble. I tried to help...”
“I know,” he sniffled. “I was so angry with you for running off with Shannon but I never told you how bad things were for me. I tried to numb it. It didn't help.”
Boy that was one area I did know about. “No, it never does,” I observed.
“Promise you won't hate me, Jane.”
“What? I would never hate you, Roger. I think I've been as angry with you as I ever have the capacity to be. Like I'm done now. I've used it all up, forever, for the rest of our lives. There is nothing that could make me hate you.”
Roger began to sob and I started to cry with him. If I had thought, even for a second, that things were this bad with him I'd have chucked my whole temper tantrum walkabout right then and there and gone to him. I felt terrible. And I didn't even begin to know how to make it up to him.
“Do you remember that night that Shannon was here, and I was so grouchy, and I disappeared all night?”
“Jesus, how could I fucking forget, Rog. You were a mess when you came home. Like you'd been dragged through every gutter in Manhattan.” Roger may have been scared when I had my meltdown but he had scared the daylights out of me weeks before that.
“I did something...” he sniffled wetly and I leaned back just enough to reach the box of tissues on the console table behind us.
“Have you talked to your therapist about this?” I asked him as handed him the tissue.
Roger blew his nose and nodded. “I should have talked to you though. That day. Before I did it. But I got it in my head that you didn't count, that you were just stuck with me somehow....” he trailed off again. “I was so fucking stupid, Janey, and I'm sorry, and if I could take it back....”
I wrapped myself around him, the way I had in the shower that afternoon, and held him as tightly as I could get my arms to latch onto him. “it's okay. Whatever happened, it's over now.”
Roger stopped crying and he gripped my arm tightly. When he spoke again his voice was even softer than before, and flat, as if he were trying to keep as much distance as possible between himself and what he was telling me. “I sold myself that night. For drugs," he confessed.
“What?” I heard the words but I couldn't get them to make any kind of sense. “Why would you do something like that? You didn't need the money, I know you didn't. And I didn't think you were using that much....”
“it wasn't for the drugs or the money,” Roger confessed weakly. “I just wanted to have value. I wanted to be worth something. Turns out I'm worth quite a bit in ketamine and coke.”
“Oh Jesus," was the only thing I could manage to choke out.
“Yeah, he and I aren't on speaking terms,” Roger joked weakly.
I thought back again to that day, to stripping off Roger's stained and soiled clothing, the marks on his skin, and I wanted to throw up. I could actually feel my stomach turning and I looked around for something to vomit into. I told myself I couldn't though. I couldn't let Roger think that I found him sickening. I didn't want him to take it as a rejection. I gulped in air and closed my eyes and tried to get my heart under control. How the fuck had we come to this? “Roger you need to see someone.” I protested.
“I am,” he reminded me.
“Well, I don't think it's doing you much good. Look at you.”
“Jane, this happened back in July. I am able to tell you about it now because I've been seeing someone. I have a long way to go but I”m working on getting better too. I was just hoping we could do it together.”
I grabbed him even more tightly, even though it was too late to protect him now. Of course, we could do it together. Nothing else mattered to me anymore except keeping Roger safe. “Okay, okay, sure.” I couldn't stop myself from sobbing and Roger began rocking us both back and forth. “I'll do anything it takes. Just please don't... please don't....”
“Same for you,” he sobbed back at me.
“I love you, Roger. I don't need anyone else.” I told him. “I won't ever leave you again.”
“I love you too, Janey. And you will. But it will be on our terms next time and we'll be ready.”
We cried on that floor together for the better part of an hour before we had to clean ourselves up and head to the airport. By the time we got back to my parent's house we had pasted our smiles back in place and for the all the world we looked just like we always had, two best friends, out to take on the world together. But we had torn the lid off and looked inside and we had seen how deep the cracks in our souls went. I didn't know how we were going to do it, but we were determined not lose each other to the darkness inside them. Nothing was going to drive us apart again.
@thepromiseofanend @msroxyblog@nikkitasevoli@maliciousalishious@llfd1977 @mustlove6277@fyeahproudglambert @little-poptart @snewsome756@guccilowell
#TB: Jane's Journal#jared leto fanfiction#jared leto fic#shannon leto fanfiction#shannon leto fic#30 seconds to mars fanfiction
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Let me start this off by apologizing! I had intended on writing this blog ON Saturday after the Pride Festival but got into a car accident (mild fender bender!) on my way home. After that my whole evening was shot, and Sami and I opted to drop in on my parents’ house to use their hot tub (which was awesome!) to soothe our aching legs. After that, I got caught up in sewing commissions, and writing Chapter 11 of The Daffodil Witch! (It’s here, go read it!! But after you read this haha.)
ANYWAY, Boston Pride! Let me tell you all about it and how AMAZING it was!
BEFORE THE PARADE
Leading up to pride, I knew that I didn’t want to just show up, watch the parade, and be done with it! I wanted to leave an impact somehow, even if it was only on a few people. A few years ago my father took me to NYC for New York Pride while on a business trip and I had dyed a rainbow streak into my hair in anticipation of it!
This year, I wanted to do something more and really make an effort. I wanted to be involved somehow, but it was too late to organize anything big!
I ordered myself an awesome ace pride pin (which I have been wearing every day since), did my nails in the ace flag colors, and made a rainbow flower crown to start!
Was that enough? Nope! I also ordered a bunch of mini rainbow flags and a roll of 500 heart pride stickers to hand out to people! THOSE were a huge hit! You would be amazed at how excited people got over the stickers. Even on the train into the city before Pride started, I ended up hanging out stickers!
Look at Sami, isn’t she cute? That brings me to our awesome outfits. Sami is a huge Star Wars nerd and had only JUST come out as a demisexual lesbian after a long time of questioning. She decided to rock her pride and ended up buying a really awesome pin while we were there!
I went into the city with Sami and Brendan, who is part of what I refer to affectionately as my ‘game night crew,’ a tight-knit group of friends who I see weekly for games and what we deem real-talks (I’ll talk more about that in another blog post! But we talk about some pretty serious topics and are all very close.) Brendan is not queer, but he was the one who wanted most to go to Boston Pride. He’s the best sort of ally you could want!
How fabulous are we?! And yes, Brendan IS doing the same pose in both photos. He’s a great ally and a great friend, but also a huge dork. See my skirt?! I struggled at first with the decision on my skirt. I knew I would make something festive, but I originally figured I would make a rainbow skirt to be super festive! Then it dawned on me that I could actually represent MYSELF as an ace at Boston Pride instead of just going in with the classic rainbow. I took to Facebook, and overwhelmingly, my friends suggested I go with the ace colors.
You can’t tell here, but each fabric is SUPER glittery, and Sami’s fishnets are covered in rhinestones. We like to be seen from space. If you ask either of us what our favorite color is, the answer will be, without hesitation: glitter!
OKAY so, on to the parade itself!
THE PARADE
Once we got into the city, it was a sea of rainbows, pink and glitter! We really couldn’t stop smiling and looking around. Rainbows were plastered in business windows, and flags were EVERYWHERE. It was an amazing feeling for me, as someone who has been out as queer almost my entire life–a feeling of being at home, of being safe, of being loved and included: a feeling of recognition. I can’t even imagine what Sami was feeling. Up until that moment, she had really only come out to maybe one or two people, and even when she came out to me it had been with the question of “am I allowed to identify as a lesbian if I dated a guy for so long?”
We ran into lots of awesome people we know, which was great! Took plenty of selfies. The first person we saw was our friend Danielle. Danielle is a wonderful specimen who somehow manages to show up everywhere at everything, and I run into her no matter where I go–EVEN IF IT IS IN A DIFFERENT STATE. We also saw my friend Lyndsey, who was representing fabulously in a Katsuki Yuri from YURI ON ICE! cosplay. Both of them walked in the parade (which we had planned to do until we got distracted by the lure of Starbucks coffee! Whoops!) Shortly after the parade started, we were joined by my friend Emmy, her younger sister and her friend Jennifer, who twinned with her in Wonder Woman regalia! (Don’t they look great?!)
The parade was amazing, of course! There was lots of free swag! Sami even got me this AWESOME Aladdin magnet, which I adore with every fiber of my being. (In case you don’t know, Aladdin is my FAVORITE Disney movie and always has been!)
The parade itself was LONG, as to be expected. I tried to take as many photos as I possibly could (I am not a photographer, and am used to not taking photos ever at events because I get immersed in them.) My phone died after a few hours and I wasn’t able to take as many as I would have liked, but here is just a bunch of them in a slideshow for you:
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Yes, I had a BLAST. I loved the parade. I screamed so much I was sure I would lose my voice. I saw SO many flags and so much diversity… but I noticed that ONE thing was missing: I didn’t see a single ace flag in the entire parade. Did this ruin my experience? Not at all, I still had an amazing time–but it did stick with me that I didn’t see Black, Grey, White, Purple anywhere in the parade, and it made it that much more poignant that I had decided to wear my own flag to proudly represent asexuals.
REPRESENTATION
The whole day, my companions and I were inactively on the lookout for more ace flags. We saw maybe three total the whole day, and I’m sure those people bought them ahead of time and brought them with them. This is why I am so happy I wore my ace colors rather than only rainbow.
I had at least fifteen instances where someone came up to me and thanked me for wearing the ace colors, or complimented me on my skirt and pointed out that they, too, were ace! I WISH my phone had not died, for I would have taken a selfie with every one of them to share with you. Alas, all I can do is share those moments that stuck out to me the most.
One girl I had noticed was lingering with her friends behind us outside of Starbucks as we watched the parade. They weren’t standing WITH the parade onlookers, but up against the building. I had noticed a few times that they were looking at me, and thought maybe they wanted a sticker. Before I could offer one, I was distracted by friends joining us.
Maybe a half hour into the parade, one of the girls stepped over and tapped my shoulder.
“I love your skirt,” she said. Her voice was weak and quiet, and I could tell she was shy.
I offered her a big smile and thanked her. Then she showed me the small, ace-flag earrings she wore and the ace-flag nail polish she had done and smiled shyly at me. I think she was probably in her teens. She was small, shy, and intimidated looking. I told her they were awesome, gave her and all her friends stickers. Then I saw a look in her eye and knew that she was going to cry. I hugged her tightly, and she held on for a while.
Even as I’m writing this, I’m tearing up myself. I don’t think she expected to see ace representation at the parade. Asexual erasure is a real problem–with the queer AND straight community. I touched on this before in my Pride Month post. We are made to feel like we don’t exist like we aren’t valid. I hope that this moment, for her, was an eye-opener. I hope she feels valid now, because I am sure by the way she cried and was afraid at first to look me in the eye that she was not at all confident in herself.
This happened over and over throughout the day. I got hugs, I was thanked, I had people scream “I LOVE YOUR SKIRT!” over the crowds of people when they couldn’t get close enough. People showed me their small, and sometimes hidden, ace memorabilia. One girl who had to have been 13 if she was a day ran up to me with wide eyes, took my hands and said. “You are beautiful!”
I was overwhelmed by her.
Credit
Next year, I am already planning to attend pride again, but I want to REALLY make a difference this time. I want to register in the parade and form a group of asexual and demisexual people to walk with. I want us to fly our flags proudly, to wear our flags, to carry signs that remind everyone that WE EXIST and WE ARE VALID.
Sami was also inspired by pride. She wants to organize a cosplay group to walk in the parade for next year–and has even made a group on Facebook (a global group) for LGBTQ+ Cosplayers! She wanted to create a safe place for queer cosplayers to gather, network, chat and share! Check it out!
Thank you to everyone who came to me to show their appreciation for my representation. Thank you for making my Boston Pride experience so memorable!
IMPORTANT LINKS
Sami’s Links
Tumblr
Facebook
LGBTQ+ Cosplayers
Lyndsey’s Links
Website
Facebook
Twitter
Boston Pride Festival and Representation Let me start this off by apologizing! I had intended on writing this blog ON Saturday after the Pride Festival but got into a car accident (mild fender bender!) on my way home.
#ace#ace pride#asexual#boston pride#cosplay#lgbt#lgbtq+#lifestyle#parade#Pride#pride month#queer#queer pride
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