#my cousin died and he helped me articulate how i was feeling and we had a long convo about loss and grief and

[willgrahamsipodnano]

i shouldn’t be this sad that bereal didn’t save my post from yesterday

#my friend took me out to dinner bc i was sad #my cousin died and he helped me articulate how i was feeling and we had a long convo about loss and grief and #how we appreciate the people in our lives and how to let go of regret over how we did things #and idk it was just such a lovely time #i took the photo when we were already drunk and talking about profound losses we have experienced #but the server interrupted us and spent like 5 mins describing the dessert menu and we ended up ordering it lmao #like at first we were like excuse me we’re baring our souls here but then we were like hmm that sounds really good actually #anyway the bereal def captured that energy of taking a break from the intense stuff to be a lil silly goofy #and also a third emotion #which was just like this gesture of inviting me out coming from a place of love and then opening up in a way we haven’t before #and now it’s gone and sheesh i should take actual photos more and not rely on an app to save everything for me #End Rant. #txt

[warrenessa]

Ficlet: Proposal (1/1)

Summary: AU. On Christmas Day, Warren has an important question for Vanessa.

Rating: PG

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Warrenessa

Spoilers: none, set some time after Keys to the Demon Prison, disregards Dragonwatch

Note: Written for @fablehavenandfandomsfanatic for the 2020 Secret Santa Fic Swap. Sorry this is late - I’ve had a lot going on and have been super busy. hope you like it!

Note #2: sorry for the long post. I’m on mobile and can’t do a read more...I’ll fix it once I have access to the desktop again

—-

Warren sighed and pushed off from the wall he leaned against. The Christmas festivities had long since ended, dinner had been delicious and now everything had died down.

Kendra and Bracken were curled up together on the couch, Seth was lounging on the floor, adding the gifts he’d received to his emergency kit. Mara and Elise were in the kitchen, helping Ruth clean up and Tanu and Trask were talking quietly about something Knight related.Someone bumped his shoulder, pulling him out of his observational haze. It was Dale.

“Hey big brother,” he greeted. “Like what I got you?”

Warren smiled. “Good. I’m glad.” He reached into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around the small box hidden inside.

Dale looked at him. “She went outside after dinner.”

“I know.”

“Warren are you ever actually going to ask her?”

“I...yeah of course, but…”

Dale frowned. “But what?”

Warren bit his lip. “What if she says no?”

Dale shook his head. “Warren.”

“Well she could!”

“Warren.” Dale said patiently. “I know you two have gone through a lot since she came back in the picture, but I’ve seen the way she looks at you. She loves you. And if she loves you as much as you love her, it’ll all work out.”

“You think?” Warren said hopefully.

His brother grinned. “I’m sure of it.”

——-

Warren found Vanessa out on the back porch, staring out at the snowy yard.

“Hey.” He said softly.

She looked up at him and smiled. “Hey.”

His breath caught in his throat as he looked at her. Could he do this?

Vanessa gestured to the spot next to her. “You wanna sit?”

“Sure.” He shuffled over and plopped down next to her, hands shoved in the pockets of his coat, one of them containing that little box. They sat in silence for a moment. “Everything okay?”

“Fine just...wanted to be outside for a while.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Haven’t seen this much snow in a while.”

“Yeah. It’s nice.” Warren said. He felt tongue tied. How was he supposed to do this? “Nessa?”

“Mmm?”

“I love you.”

She kissed his cheek. “I know.”

He resisted the urge to laugh. Of course she’d reference Star Wars. That was his thing, just like Lord of the Rings was hers.

“I uh...I know things have been...well, a roller coaster since you left the Quiet Box, but I...I’m really happy you’re back in my life.”

“I’m glad you’re back in mine too.” She replied softly, lifting her head up to look at him. “Really.”

Warren’s mouth felt dry. “Thing is…” he turned a little so he was facing her, his hand trembling in his pocket. “I uh, I felt empty without you...and…” Crap. “I suck at this,” he muttered.

Vanessa’s face softened, she seemed to know what he was trying to say.

“Are you always this articulate?” She teased.

“Is now really the time for you to be quoting Disney movies?” He asked.

She chuckled. “That’s our thing.” Warren rolled his eyes and sighed. “Love, I feel the same way. Always have...and honestly I dont ever want to feel that empty again.”

“Me either...it’s worse than being catatonic.”

“It’s worse than the Quiet Box.”

“So...maybe there’s something we could do about that,” he said.

Vanessa tilted her head, staring at him curiously. “Oh? And what do you think that is?”

Warren took a deep breath and pulled the box from his pocket. Vanessa let out a tiny gasp.

“Warr…”

“Vanessa...I love you.” He said. “With my whole heart, and...and I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I mean...if you’ll let me.” He opened the box to reveal the ring underneath. “Will you marry me?”

Her eyes widened and filled with tears. She leaned forward and kissed him.

“That...That’s a yes, right?” He said breathlessly.

She laughed. “Yes, that's a yes, Warren.” She said before wrapping her arms around him.

Warren smiled and when they broke apart, he slid the ring onto her finger. “I love you.” He said softly. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” She replied.

They sat there in silence for a while.

“Should we go back inside?” He asked. “They’re probably all wondering where we are…”

“Nah...let’s stay here a while longer.” She said, wrapping her hand around his, their fingers tangling together. “It’s nice...a perfect Christmas” she leaned her head back to watch the snowflakes falling.

Warren grinned and nodded.

It really was.

—

“I knew it!”

“Gee, Kens, you wanna tone it down a notch? I think there are people in the fairy realm that heard you.”

Kendra rolled her eyes at Warren. “Forgive me for being excited that my cousin finally popped the big question and ended up engaged.” She shot back.

Warren and Vanessa had barely been back inside for five minutes before the others had converged on them to offer congratulations.

Warren’s eyebrows shot up. “Finally?”

“Can it, you two,” Vanessa chided, though she was smiling.

“How did you guys even know?” She asked. “Were you listening at the back door?”

“Nah, Kendra interrogated Dale.” Seth said casually.

Warren rounded on his brother. “Seriously?” He exclaimed.

“I was a rock!” Dale protested. “She didn’t crack me!”

“She almost did,” Elise chuckled. “I think he was about to give you guys up when you came back inside.”

“Seriously...congratulations, guys.” Kendra gave them each another hug. “I’m so happy for you.”

“We all are,” Trask added.

Warren smiled and slid an arm around Vanessa’s waist.

“Thanks guys,” he said earnestly. “Seriously, it means a lot.” Vanessa nodded in agreement.

—-

A few more congratulations, hugs, and begging to see Vanessa’s ring later found the two seated together on the sofa after everyone had dispersed to their rooms for the night.

“So...perfect Christmas, hm?” Warren said

“I meant what I said.” She replied.

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming,” he said, sitting up a bit straighter. “What’s up?”

Vanessa looked over at him and then at something above his head. Her lips twitched as if she wanted to laugh but held it back.

“Just the mistletoe above your head.” She said.

Warren looked up at the ceiling and indeed,someone had hung mistletoe over the space on which he sat. When he looked back at her, she leaned forward and kissed him.

“Now it’s perfect.” Vanessa said breathlessly, eyes shining.

Warren grinned and pulled her back in for another kiss.

Perfect.

- the end -

#fablehaven #fanfiction #warrenessa #warren burgess #vanessa santoro

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Blood Red Heat prt 39

Lance was wild. How someone could operate semi-humanly while hacking his lungs up was going to be his omega’s new defining moment. Mornings had never been Lance’s best friend, nor Keith’s, but it seemed to be time they both woke up with the need to touch each other... Then, as Lance had improved, they’d done less touching and more “Lance dragging him from Red to go for a morning walk with Kosmo, despite the chill in the air leaving the omega coughing”. They had the same problem at night. Lance would want to sit up with the pack, but the cold air aggravated his lungs.

The pack had been really good with him. When Pidge started tinkering with her comms, she actually took the time to explain what she was doing to Lance. When Hunk needed to collect herbs, he invited Lance along, given their walks were never as far as Lance insisted on going in the mornings. Their first walk had been to Black, the closest of the five lions to Red. Lance could now make to Green before needing to rest, then Yellow. Yellow was the limit, the first time he’d had to support Lance back, because his omega didn’t want to be carried. Allura let Lance play with her hair, then Romelle asked him to do her hair too... Krolia was still a challenge, his mother trying to talk to Lance had ended up with Lance kind of squeaking, and apologising for being ill. When his mother hugged Lance, Lance turned red as he held his breath, Keith choosing not to save him immediately because with Lance being a permanent addition to their family, he had to learn to cope with Krolia sooner rather than later.

Shiro took a little longer to warm back up to. Lance wanted to be close to him, but sometimes he couldn’t find the right words, so would move closer to Keith for comfort. His brother seriously fearing Lance didn’t like him anymore, until Lance finally found the words to explain he sometimes got a bit overwhelmed and confused as he wasn’t used to having his omega talking to him. Keith getting jealous when their little sign for this would be Lance holding onto Shiro’s hand or leg. When they were alone, Lance could articulate most of what he wanted to say, but there were clear signs he’d forget or get muddled when he really tried to concentrate on anything for longer than a few minutes. Coran seemed to think it was all exhaustion and would work its self out slowly as Lance began being able to stay awake longer and longer.

Then Lance went and surprised him. Krolia had started teasing him over how lazy he’d become. When Keith had sent his boyfriend a pleading look, Lance had waved him off to train with his mother and Kosmo. His mother was mercilessly. Training felt good after being so stagnant, but every muscle throbbed as he dragged himself into Black to shower and change. Black laughing at his exhaustion, always his biggest supporter right there. Unintentionally he’d kind of fallen asleep on his bed, his bed so inviting after being made to run laps around all 5 lions... the lions were massive... and life wasn’t fair.

Panicking hard over falling asleep, he’d rushed outside to find the sun had set. Jogging into camp to find Lance and apologise his arse off for not being there for him, Hunk tricked him. Playing up that Lance needed alone time, he sent him running off to find Lance who’d “wandered away from camp and refused to come back”. Their friends were wankers. Lance had wandered away from camp, to set up a picnic for the pair of them. Sitting on the blanket with Kosmo, the space was lit with two emergency lights. Keith not knowing he was walking into a picnic until he’d come to the edge of the blanket

“Babe?”

Staring up at the night sky, Lance shifted his gaze to him, smiling up in a way that went straight to Keith’s heart

“Hey, you”

“Hey, yourself. Been here long?”

“A little while. Come sit down next to me”

Sitting beside Lance, Lance moved the blankets he had around his shoulders to cover both their shoulders, Kosmo whining disinterestedly at his arrival. Lance didn’t seem overly sad. There was nothing in his scent that pointed to him being upset

“Hunk said you’d wandered off wanting to be alone”

“That’s because I asked him to. I’m sorry, you would have worried, but I wanted to do something nice for you. It’s not much in the way of dinner, and it’s cold now, I thought a picnic under the stars would be nice”

Keith couldn’t quite believe it

“You... organised something for me?”

“Yeah. The others helped, before you tell me off for pushing myself. I know caring for a person is hard and I wanted to show that I appreciate you”

Smiling at him so sincerely, Lance was the prettiest omega he’d ever met

“You didn’t have to”

“I wanted to. Hunk helped me cook. And I had a nap earlier while you were sleeping so I’d be awake enough to do this tonight”

“Babe... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to crash out”

“You needed it. I saw how hard Krolia pushed you today”

His mother’s hard training now made sense

“Why am I now getting the feeling she was in on this?”

“Because she was. No big surprise, but it’s soup again. And some herbs that are meant to resemble a salad”

“No meat?”

Lance elbowed him softly in the side

“No. If there were chickens I could have cut and gutted one, but there wasn’t”

Keith was instantly in awe. Living on space whale he’d had to learn how to catch and kill animals to break the monotony of plant based dinners, Krolia had to teach him more than he’d ever wanted to know

“You know how to do that?”

“I come from a farming family. How do you think I knew how to milk a cow?”

“That’s... fair. You didn’t have to do anything special for me”

“I did and I do. Sick Lance is kind of an arsehole”

“Nah, not an arsehole. I will give you that you’re stubborn”

Lance sighed a sigh that Keith couldn’t quite place. Despite being happy, there was something there that tugged at him

“Babe?”

“Sorry. I was thinking about home before you came. You didn’t... okay, my home was always super super busy. Even if you were sick, you still helped out. If your hands were free, you’d fill them. That kind of thing”

Oh. He didn’t know what to say to that. Lance had a loving family from the sounds of everything he’d said

“That sounds...”

“Hard? Yeah. It was. There was a time I was really mad at my parents, but I’m over that. Anyway, you should eat”

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry, I’m going to eat too. Hunk made me eat earlier, then Pidge let me nap against her...”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Romelle is totally becoming a bad arse too. Shiro was helping her and Allura train. Coran kept throwing in suggestions but they didn’t go well”

It sounded like Lance had had a good day without him. Keith feeling kind of lonely to have missed it, not that he’d say so. Lance needed his pack and they’d all finally stopped reapologising to each other

“So why under the stars?”

“I used to love watching the stars when I was a kid. My siblings and I would make up dumb stories, then my Mami would come yell at us all for being outside”

“Why do I feel like she had a lot to deal with?”

“She did. There was never a moment of peace at home in Cuba. Cousins and siblings and chores... and a son that didn’t confirm to the standards of being an omega”

“That’s not on you. That’s no more your fault than... well, anything”

Lance chuckled as he snuggled close

“You’ve gotten better with your words, but it’s reassuring that you’re still you under all that rugged and grizzled appearance”

“I didn’t ask to grow up”

“I know. I know that it would have been hard, even with a mission to preoccupy yourself with. We’ll throw it on the therapy pile how insecure I am about my looks when my alpha is smoking hot”

“Says you”

“Dude, literally, have you seen yourself in a mirror? Omegas and betas are going to be queuing up just to catch a glance of Voltron’s sexy leader”

“Leaders, babe”

Lance hummed his disagreement, Keith kissing his boyfriend’s hair, using Lance’s words against him

“You really do have shockingly little faith in yourself”

“I look like a walking skeleton”

“Because you nearly died. I don’t care if you never have curves or whatever it is omegas think they need. As long as you’re healthy”

“Can I take a pass on going there right now? I don’t want to start wallowing over myself again when I want to spend the night out here with you”

“Fine, but only because it’s you”

“Thanks, babe. Anyway, let’s eat”

*

The soup really was cold. The salad a game of picking the herbs that didn’t taste awful on their own. Kosmo trying something that he obviously hated the taste of, his wolf taking off back towards the main camp as if he’d been betrayed. Pushing the remains of their dinner down the other end of the blanket, the pair of them laid next to each other under the stars, hand in hand

“Babe, how many stars do you think we’ve actually seen up close?”

“Me or you?”

“Either, either”

That was hard. They’d seen a lot of space, and yet they’d seen so very little of it

“No where near all of them?”

Lance’s snort told him he’d gotten the answer right. This was actually kind of nice, like way back when space hadn’t been all of this. When there were still mysteries out there that were mysteries and not an alarming gap in their intel

“Yeah... yeah, that’s true. Keith... do you wonder if maybe we’re still in the game?”

Rolling to his side, Keith leaned in to kiss Lance softly

“No. I did for a bit, but not anymore”

“I’ve been wondering why I’m taking all of this so calmly. We all apologised again, and I think I’m okay with that, but after so long... this kind of feels like a dream”

Keith bit back pointing out Lance hadn’t been all that calm when he’d been sicker

“We’ve got our second dynamics back, and I don’t know about your omega, but my alpha has been pretty nonstop”

“I don’t... my head feels busy. It feels weird...”

“Good weird or bad weird?”

“Both. Sometimes I feel ok and others I feel so on edge that it feels like everything will break”

“Depression and anxiety will do that to you. Plus, you need to cut yourself a break. You presented really late”

“I know. Maybe that’s why I keep wondering if this is all a dream?”

“I promise you it’s all very real. We’re here together”

Nosing into Lance’s cheek, his omega’s scent filled him with warmth. Reminding Keith he had another question to ask

“I know this is a bit late, but do you mind when I call you “omega”?”

“At first it kind of... didn’t feel right, but I can hardly deny it after spending your rut and my heat together”

“I’m sorry it was such a huge burden on your body”

“It’s okay. And... honestly, it did get better. You’re a kind alpha”

“I’m not so sure about that. I did get... rather... passionate”

Lance snorted again, tilting his head to kiss Keith’s cheek just short of his lips

“I am. You... were very good to me”

Keith sighed as he forced himself to roll back. Lance was very very tempting, more so than Pike

“You’re going to wake my alpha up again if we keep talking about sex”

“Maybe I want to...”

“Babe?”

This time Lance rolled to face him, his omega walking his fingers up Keith’s chest and bopping him lightly on the tip of his nose

“You... me... under the stars”

Keith wasn’t not interested, but he did wonder with all Lance’s questioning if this was a dream

“I thought you were recovering”

“I am. I also had a talk with Coran today too. He didn’t say rush into sex, but he did say that if I wanted to be intimate with you, that was my choice and it’s my body. He also went on and on about honour, and how you were a very honourable man... and how you reacted at the idea of me being knotted to save my life”

Keith had been furious and sick to his stomach at the thought that could be the only way

“I didn’t want to... not without your consent. You sound like you had a very busy day”

“I know. And kind of, but not really at the same time... I just... being in love with Allura was tiring. I couldn’t blame her for not loving me back, and I didn’t understand how... How I couldn’t be enough. On the other hand, you... These last few however long it’s been... it’s made me feel... infinity better. It’s... easy with you. I feel like... I’m waiting for your every word and to see what comes next for us. That makes me sound pretty pathetic”

Lifting their hands, Keith kissed the back of Lance’s

“I don’t think it does. I just honestly don’t want you to feel rushed or that I won’t be interested because we don’t have a super intense sex life. I want to do this right”

“I know you do... I hate the term “making love”... but I can’t think of how else to word it. I want to make love to you under all these stars before everything gets hectic again. I want to try to work harder on concentrate on making these small happy moments with you”

“I don’t want to aggravate your lungs...”

“Babe, my lungs will be a mess for a long time. Coran didn’t say it, but it could take months for everything to heal properly, if they ever do... If you treat me like glass every time I cough, I don’t think I can take it”

“I just... don’t want to lose you”

“Trust me, apparently I’m stubborn”

Keith kissed the back of Lance’s hand twice more

“You are very stubborn... I think I can be in the mood for a little romance”

“Mmm... why don’t you show me what you’ve got, samurai”

*

Laying Lance out under the stars, Keith wanted to do this right. Lance was a hopeless romantic. Absolutely hopeless and well known for his romantic heart. Lance smelt intoxicating, his natural musk mixing with his aroused hues. Kissing Lance’s inner thighs, the way the muscles jumped was adorable

“You okay, babe?”

“Yeah... just... very exposed”

Keith had stripped him down slowly, Lance’s shirt hadn’t made it easy, both of them smacking their foreheads against each other as the clumsily made their way through things. Kissing had lead to wandering hands, Lance making the sweetest little mews as Keith had slowly started to open him, as he hid his face against Keith’s shoulder

“I’m just as exposed, you know”

Covering his face, Lance mumbled into his hands. The emergency lights had been laid down to cut the amount of light, yet Keith knew if he could have seen it, Lance would be blushing

“But you’re so hot it’s not fair”

Smirking down at Lance, Keith teased him gently

“Oh, babe. You’ve got it bad for me, don’t you”

“Shut up”

Too cute. Lance was too cute. Did all alphas turn into such idiots when they found their omega?

The sex was slow, Keith tracing his hands over Lance soft skin, keeping his thrusts slow almost to the point of lazy, Lance’s scent grew sweeter and sweeter. It was nothing like sex with Pike, or the hard dirty sex they’d had when both their instincts were screaming to breed. Having marked Lance’s neck with plenty of possessive hickeys, his boyfriend smacked him when he started teasing his nipples. The tiny brow buds just the right size. Lance had fallen apart beneath him, the back of his hand against his mouth, though it didn’t stop the little moans and mews that Lance would give. Everything was so overwhelmingly intoxicating. The warm wetness of his boyfriend’s heat. The wet squelching noises each time be buried himself. The way Lance was so open and pliant for him. And the fact that other than him, and Darkstorm, no one else had laid hands on their beautiful omega. Lance’s ganglyness might turn other alphas away, but Keith knew how much work Lance put it into training. He knew he worked himself far more than anyone else, except for maybe him.

Moving his hand from his mouth to Keith’s shoulder, Lance whined softly

“Up...”

Keith stopping his thrust to leave himself buried deeply in his omega, so close to coming but wanting Lance to come first

“You want up?”

“I wanna cuddle”

“Okay, little omega”

Seating Lance in his lap, his omega cried out as he sank back down on Keith’s erection, Keith massaging Lance’s arse as he gave him a moment to adjust. With his arms wrapped around him, it was like they were only two beneath the blanket of stars above

“You okay, babe?”

“Mmm... I want it hard and fast”

So bossy...

Taking Lance by the hips, Keith let his control slip, moving Lance to meet each desperate thrust as his knot started forming

“Do you want my knot?”

“Please... alpha... I’m going crazy”

His pride swelled, his omega pleasured to the point of wanting his knot. Lance might not fall pregnant any time soon, but practicing was fun. Rolling his hips, they both moaned, Lance’s lips finding his, kisses clumsy as Keith thrust up over and over, knot flaring as Lance came with a heavy groan, his full weight driving Keith’s knot as deep as it’d go as his own orgasm painted his lovers insides with his seed. Biting on Lance’s shoulder, he’d very nearly bitten Lance’s neck, the amount of pleasure and joy he felt nearly forcing him to bond with his omega too soon.

Boneless and breathless, Lance nuzzled into his hair. Body shaking as Keith kept rutting through each slow burst of cum. Had Lance been able to fall pregnant, Keith was sure he’d pumped enough into knock him up. He’d never experienced anything like it a rut. Sure, he’d come a lot, but this was like a fucking volcanic eruption in comparison... and the way Lance rippled and squeezed... his body already trying for a pup of their own. Pups weren’t everything, and if the day came where Lance wanted a pup, Keith would do absolutely everything he could to make that dream happen.

With Lance firmly knotted, Keith hushed him as his knot jostled, the alpha reaching for a blanket to cover his loves cooling body. It’d do no good for Lance to catch a cold when he still had so far to go recovering. Kissing his hair, his omega hummed softly, a “thank you for the blanket” that he couldn’t find the words for

“Babe, are you okay?”

“Mmmm”

“My knot should go down soon... I’m sorry it puts so much strain on you”

His crotch was soaked from cum and slick, he’d probably regret it later, but that was for later Keith to deal with

“Mmm... ‘s ‘kay”

“You did so good, babe. So good for me”

“‘nly you”

“Yeah, babe. Only me”

They’d all apologised to each other, yet Keith still felt a burst of anger that their pack could think Lance would be sleeping around on diplomatic missions. It was the same kind of useless anger that he’d felt about leaving the team with Kuron. An anger he couldn’t do anything about, and an anger that would take a while to fade. Before they’d even been... close? Keith hadn’t thought Lance the type to sleep with just anyone, despite the “Nyma incident” and his omega’s chronic flirting. Lance was so damn faithful. He’d never do anything to risk negotiations or put their pack in danger. If Keith let himself think too much on it, he’d only grow angry at everything all over again.

Whining softly, Keith caught the hues of anger starting to bleed into his scent, upsetting Lance

“Shhh... it’s okay. My alphas just getting worked up at the idea of anyone daring to think they could hurt you”

Things were different for him. Lance had forgiven their pack, one by one, and as “Pike”. Yet his boyfriend had admitted he did feel moments of hurt and unsureness sometimes when he’d catch one of their pack out the corner of his eye. To Keith it was understandable. He wouldn’t have been mad with Lance if Lance hadn’t been able to accept the apology of their pack yet, yet Lance was so damn kind

“You won’t let ‘em”

“Nah, babe. They have to get through me first”

“Mmm... so damn dependable”

Tickling Lance’s side, the omega laughed tiredly, hissing when he tugged on Keith’s knot before settling his weight back against Keith

“Nooo... no tickling”

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it”

“I know... You’ve got a case of “Roman Hands” and “Russian Fingers””

The reference went straight over Keith’s head

“If you say so”

“I do...”

“Okay”

Lance sighed at him, Keith kissing his hair. He knew he had a lot to learn, but being this open only felt right because Lance had shown him he’d be there for him. Right now Lance just needed a little propping up, but soon the omega would be back to being his right hand man and his stability. What started as mess of jealousy and mutual lashing out, had grown slowly, piece by piece, and now it’d morphed into something completely new and breath taking. Far more breath taking than the stars above.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

The Peril of Hope in the Darkness (a post 5x03 ficlet)

(a continuation of the final scene in Lena’s apartment)

“Can I ask you something?” Kara asks hesitantly as Lena drifts towards the couch, already leafing through the topmost journal. Her gaze only lifts long enough to shoot Kara a fleeting smile. 

“I thought we were past boundaries.”

The tease rasps with wry mirth from lips curled in a smirk, and Kara chuffs a sheepish laugh at the sight of it. “I didn’t want to presume you felt the same way.”

Lena’s response is a fluttering eye roll that turns her gaze back to the pages splayed open in her lap.

Trying not to read too much into the silence, Kara takes it as an invitation to venture closer. She moves to take a seat next to Lena, only to freeze at the sharp stab of Lena’s “ah-ah-ah!” of warning.

“What—?”

“I know what kinds of disasters that suit has been through, Supergirl. I’d rather not risk a stain on my very expensive furniture.” It’s still softened by the warmth of teasing smile, but Kara’s own grin weakens slightly as she rises away from the pristine white fabric of the sofa cushion. She casts a glance about for a suitable alternative, but everything in the apartment looks too clean, too sharp, too bright.

She studies the tops of her boots to hide the growing heat of her embarrassment, and then blinks at the smooth, easy to clean floor under her soles. Gathering her cape with a sweep of her arm, Kara settles cross-legged on the bare ground, and her informal, decidedly unhero-like seat draws a soft huff of mirth from Lena’s throat.

“I know you said these journals would help you take the edge off of Lex’s memory, but…” Kara trails off when Lena’s shoulders tighten, her brief amusement falling away. But she gathers her courage and her breath to push on. Too late to back out now. 

“I remember what the journals in his cell contained, and they weren’t good. You said reading them was awful. Why would reading them now be any different?”

For a long moment, Lena doesn’t respond beyond a fleeting glance. Kara waits— she watches the wheels turn, as Lena decides how much to share and how to say it. A few weeks earlier, she imagines Lena would be able to respond in a heartbeat, but after the Pulitzer ceremony, and the hurt she’d glimpsed in Lena’s eyes, Kara accepts the reticence gratefully. 

Better reservation than exclusion. Better hesitation than absence.

Finally, Lena surrenders her truth with a quiet sigh. 

“These journals are from Lex’s prime,” she says softly. “These are the years after our father died, after he left the manor, and took the lead at LuthorCorp, but before Super…” Lena catches herself, her gaze flashing to Kara. She shrugs, as though to surrender to her new reality. “Before your cousin came into the picture. Those few years were the best I had with him.”

Kara’s heart aches for Lena. “How do you mean?”

“I wasn’t tugging on his coattails anymore. Going away to school helped me find my own feet, and by the time I went home again, I’d learned so much without him… I had my own knowledge, my own understanding of how the world worked. And it was then that he started to see me as something more than his baby sister. We were colleagues… peers. Maybe— maybe even something close to friends.”

Lena’s shoulders lift, her eyes rolling at her own sentimentality. “If he ever wrote a nice word about me, I guess I’d hoped to find it in these.”

A heavy lump rises in Kara’s throat. She closes her eyes, and wills herself to not remember the nights she’s spent with the specter of her mother, willing the hologram to be something more than it is. But all it does is make her heart ache all the more at Lena’s desperate reach for something— anything— of her brother to hold onto.

“When my parents sent me to Earth,” she begins softly, resting her chin on one knee, “my mother sent a repository with me. A data crystal filled with all the knowledge and memories she could transfer to it in the time she had. When it’s activated, it generates an avatar of my mother. It looks like her, it sounds like her, but… it isn’t her. It could never answer the questions I truly needed to ask, and it couldn’t replicate the feel of her arms around me or her hand stroking my hair. It’s just an echo.” 

Lifting her head from her knee, Kara meets Lena’s gaze with heavy features.

 “Sometimes an echo doesn’t do anything but hurt more.”

Lena’s eyes swivels back to the books in her hands. After a moment, she closes the open volume, but keeps her finger between the pages to mark her place. 

“I suppose it must be a relief to have the real thing again, after all this time.” Her voice is light but jolts into shock and confusion a moment later, as additional details click into place, and her eyes widen with realization.

“Kara! Your mother is alive! What are you still doing here, when you could be on Argo with her?”

Kara shrugs, uncertain she can fully articulate why she’s made the choice she has. “I did go, for a few weeks. In that time I realized… as much as I’ve missed her— as much as I imagined what I’d say to her if I ever did have one more chance to speak with her… I don’t know her anymore. And taking the time to try and reconnect would take me away from the people I do know. The people I love. In the end, it wasn’t a sacrifice I was willing to make.”

Lena stares at her, stunned. Kara doesn’t know how to explain that despite all her grief of having lost her entire planet, her history, her friends and family and everyone she’s ever met, Earth is her home. Her friends are her family.

Lena is her family.

Something in Lena’s gaze shifts in the ensuing silence. Kara can’t discern what it is, but a shadow of guilt chases on its heels, averting her gaze from Kara’s. “Lena?”

“Nevermind.”

Troubled eyes close for a long moment, and when they re-open, they’re dull with exhaustion. Kara hesitates, then leans forward to rest her hand on the toe of Lena’s spiked boot. When Lena finally looks at her again, Kara offers a quiet smile. 

“You should get some sleep.”

Lena huffs. “I’d rather not,” she says, rising to step away from Kara’s touch. “Besides, I have work to do—”

“The great Lena Luthor will always have work to do,” Kara butts in gently, also climbing to her feet. “So does Supergirl. But that doesn’t mean we don’t get to rest. We can’t help anyone if we burn out, can we?”

Green eyes narrow dangerously. “Luthors don’t burn.”

Kara almost recoils, but when she blinks the dark shadows of Lena’s features vanish, swept away by a smile that reveals nothing but teeth.

With a swallow, Kara plasters her own smile back on. “I’m sure I could take your mind off of things until you fall asleep,” she offers playfully. 

But instead of pulling her friend back to the surface, Lena seems to sink deeper into herself. She hugs the journals to her chest.

“Actually,” she says, voice soft, “I think I’d rather be alone.”

Blinking back the sudden burn behind her eyes, Kara gives a jerky nod. “Okay, sure. I’ll just…” She jabs a thumb over her shoulder towards the balcony. “I’m gonna go—”

“Kara.” 

Sharp fingers catch her by the wrist. When she looks back, Lena’s grip softens, withdrawing with a brush of her thumb that feels like a caress. 

“Thank you. For the journals.”

Kara nods, swallowing.

“Of course. I hope they help.” She resumes her exit towards the sliding door, and brightens with an idea. “Breakfast tomorrow? I’ll bring more of those awesome scones—”

“No.”

For a split second that yawns for eons, Kara’s heart drops.

“I mean, breakfast would be lovely,” Lena clarifies, tucking long hair behind her ear. “But you don’t need to bring scones.”

Relief floods Kara’s chest, nearly lifting her from the ground. “Oh. Gotcha. I’ll be there. Or here. Anywhere. Just text me when and where, and I’ll--” 

“Fly there on a bus?”

The levity in Lena’s tone hollows, and her smile turns sad. Guilt settles heavily on Kara’s shoulders, as her earliest lie echoes on the lips of her best friend. 

Before she can say anything, Lena scrunches her nose to soften the blow.

“Can’t wait.”

Kara finally lifts off, leaving Lena to her sleepless night. As she soars high into the sky, she tries to let the peace of night still the disquiet in her heart.

#supercorp #reveal angst #canon compliant #believe it or not #just imagine it's just generalized mixed feelings over kara's betrayal #and not anything sinister on lena's part #lex's journals #guess what: kara and lena have way more commonalities than any admits #would sure be nice if they could bond over them sometime

[thosequeenboys]

36: Reset (Joe Mazzello x Y/N)

Summary:  His 36th birthday a recent memory, Joe is eager to reset himself with a positive focus on his future.  Taking care of his precious nieces leads him into a situation that may change his future – and help him realize his dream of having a family.

A/N: I love picturing Joe as a loving husband and dad and wrote this after Joe’s 36th birthday.  Recently I wrote Y/N’s version of this story: 36: Half Full.  Joe’s family members are written as fictional characters.  Any likeness to his real family are unintentional and coincidental.  Song lyrics that came to me while writing are bolded and referenced at the end.  

Warnings:  Fluff, Angst and brief references to a deceased parent, masturbation and Joe as Daddy (!) and a drop of swearing

Joe threw three days of clothing into a duffle bag and took a stab at being grateful.  His 36th birthday coincided with the reality that he was between jobs, between relationships and plagued with a little too much uncertainty for his taste.  He needed a new narrative, a reset – and a jolt of positivism.

‘Here goes,’ he thought. Being in between gigs allowed him to care for his adoring nieces fairly regularly over the last few months.  And now, he’d be staying with them while his sister and her husband attended a wedding.  This was a gig he knew well and particularly as of late, cherished.  Since his dad died, he found comfort and stability in those two little girls: Josephine, Josie, his dad’s namesake, a growing toddler of 15 months, and Jessie, a highly articulate and bright second-grade graduate.   The loss of his dad still stung, but from it was born this intimacy and his solidified dream that now more than ever, he was destined to be a father, with his own loving father as a role model.   But for now, the role of beloved uncle would have to do.

He climbed the steps of the stately brownstone and let himself in, bellowing “Hellooooo,” which cascaded up the high ceilings and the floors above.  In an instant, he heard a sound that made him feel whole and gave him solace like no other. “UNCLE JOOOOOOEEEEEE,” Jessie ran to him with a huge smile and outstretched arms, and he swooped her up into a big hug.  Teetering toward him was Josie, a broad smile on her face, Joe’s sister Patty, trailing behind.  

“Jojo!!” Josie said, followed by gibberish. “You said my name??!!” Joe exclaimed happily. He was amazed. Only last week, she didn’t try to say his name.  Joe leaned down, perching Jessie on his knee and bringing Josie in for a hug.  “My two best girls,” he cooed, bending to kiss each of them.

“Ok, Girls, give me a few minutes with Joe. I have a lot of instructions to go over.”  You’ll have him to yourselves for three days soon enough.Joe’s sister, Patty said.  “YAY!!!” Jessie yelled jumping up and down, the embodiment of youthful enthusiasm.  

“Hey, Joe,” his sister said warmly, as she removed Josie from him and put her on the floor. “Jessie, watch your sister.”   She turned to Joe. “Let me walk you through everything.”

“Ok,” Joe said, adding, “I feel pretty well versed, I mean, I’ve been babysitting them and…”

Patty cut him off.  “I know.  But this is the big league.  Every moment. Lots of details.  You usually get them at their best and then you can walk away. Let’s start in the kitchen.”  

Patty had all the meals and snacks listed in detail, as well a grocery list.  “And make sure Josie ONLY gets Stonyfield Farms YO-BABY yogurts!” she implored. It was indeed a house of many yogurts. “Here’s Jessie’s water bottle for camp,” she pointed to it on the counter.

“YO, PATTY, I got it,” Joe said, containing a smirk, and glancing at the pile of papers.  The family recipe for nachos-really? He could make them in his sleep.

They proceeded upstairs to the bedrooms where Joe was schooled in Josie’s daytime and bedtime routines (which he knew) and Jessie’s camp routine.  “And be sure to hang the bathing suit EVERY NIGHT so it dries COMPLETELY!!”   Joe loved his sister deeply, but at that moment his tensed his mouth to avoid responding cattily, “No, I think I’ll leave the wet suit in the bag so it smells gross and is damp for her the next day.”  

“Sure, Sure,” he uttered lightly instead.

Fortunately, Joe was saved by the bell in the form of Peter, a strapping accountant with a penchant for murder mysteries, working out – and getting on the road.

“Come on Patty.  Quit torturing him before he runs out of here screaming. He can text us.  And by the way, he’s been helping out a lot this summer. I told you I wanted to get on the road by 6:00. It’s 6:15.  Let’s go.”  Peter hefted a suitcase and bounded down the steps.   Joe gave him an appreciative nod.

“Go,” Joe said gently to Patty. “We will be fine. I’m looking forward to it.  Pete’s right.  I’ll text you if I need anything.  You guys have a great time away together.”

“I know.  I’m sorry to be a nut.  I’m just - well. It’s hard to unwind.  And so much to keep track of.  You’ll see when you’re doing it all-work, family….” She sighed and planted a kiss on his cheek.  “Thanks for doing this.”  She went to pack a few final things before Peter came to collect her suitcase.

With a kiss to the girls, Patty and Peter hit the road.  “OK, who’s ready to show me some bath toys?” Joe said as he closed the door behind them.   “I am!” Jessie bounded upstairs to the bathroom, with Joe carrying Josie behind her.

The next morning was Friday. and Joe arose early. He prepared breakfast, packed lunches, put away random toys and checked the shopping list.  He woke and dressed the girls, collected Jessie’s backpack and threw in her lunch and bathing suit.  After brushing their teeth, he stuffed his own backpack with snacks, lunch, diapers, and wipes, and threw a towel and water toys and sunblock in the stroller basket. He hoisted Josie and grabbed the stroller, and ushered Jessie out the door, which he locked behind him.  He ran through a checklist in his mind hoping he remembered everything.  He had to admit, Patty was right-it really was a lot of details to manage-along with the constant banter with two young people, eager for expression and interaction as their worlds unfolded with each new day.

They walked half a mile as the summer sun warmed the city pavement.  They entered the YMCA that housed Jessie’s camp and proceeded to a large gym where groups of kids gathered by age. Jessie ran to a woman who was waving to her.  She had a warm smile and wore a neatly pressed shirt and capri pants with sneakers. She seemed to be taking in everyone-campers, caregivers, staff, while answering questions and ensuring everything was running smoothly.  Carrying a clipboard and an array of keys on a lanyard around her neck, she looked very official.  

“Hi, Jessie,” she greeted Joe’s oldest niece. “Hi, Josie,” she added bending slightly and peering into the stroller.

“Hi, Y/N, this is my Uncle Joe. He’s taking care of us while my parents are at Cousin Carol’s wedding in…” Jessie provided a litany of details as Joe and Y/N looked at each other and laughed.  When Jessie paused, Joe extended his hand.  “I’m Joe, nice to meet you.”   He suddenly felt awkward.  Should he have presented himself more formally, more guardian-like?   She smiled.  “Hi, Joe. Patty wrote a note saying you’d be helping with the girls.  That’s so nice.  I’m Y/N/Z, the Assistant Director of the camp.  If you need anything please let me know. Jessie is a wonderful camper!”  She winked at Jessie who smiled.

Now there’s a woman who knows how to introduce herself, Joe thought.  And she’s pretty and warm.

“Thanks,” Joe said, as Y/N turned to speak with a parent.  Joe hugged Jessie. “You have your lunch and water bottle?” Joe suddenly felt panicked.  “Oh, Crap! I forgot your water bottle. Should I bring it?”

“It’s ok. I’ll use the fountain.” Jessie said.

He appreciated her flexibility, but his inner voice said, “parenting fail!”  He thought Patty would freak if she knew.  “Good plan. Thanks for being flexible.  Have a great day.  We’ll see you at 4:00.”

Jessie walked toward her counselor and friends. Joe leaned down to check on Josie who was sitting comfortably in her stroller playing with a toy. “Playground?” he asked.  “Pway” she responded, and he gave her a kiss on her leg.

As he headed out, he noticed Y/N on the side, speaking with some counselors. She was really pretty.  Really together.  He wondered what she did when camp ended.  She certainly must like kids, he thought.  As Joe reached the exit, still watching her, she turned and waved to him. He waved back with a smile.  

Joe and Josie headed to the playground for a morning of water sprinklers, swings, and monkey bars. He followed her around, speaking to her and encouraging her to play with other children.   Josie handed another girl her ball.  “Say thank you,” the woman with the child said to her. “Very nice, Josie.” Joe praised.  Josie suddenly began to get winey, and Joe sensed that she needed to eat before she melted down. “C’mon, let’s have lunch.”

They ambled over to the shady bench, and Joe changed her diaper and washed their hands with a wipe.  Then he set out their lunch and they ate turkey sandwiches, the very popular Yo-Baby Yogurt and cut-up peaches, which were perfectly sweet and juicy, symbolic of summer. They sipped water from a bottle, taking turns.  After lunch Joe cleaned up. and Josie played a little more. But the sun was at its peak, and Josie was fading.  “Let’s go home for a nap.” Joe said as he picked her up. His phone pinged with a text from Patty.  “How is everything?”  “Great, just taking Josie home from PG for a nap.”    

Joe lugged everything – including Josie and himself - up the steps and into the house.  He had to admit he was tired. He dropped the stroller and backpack and carried Josie up the steps. She wrapped her arms around Joe’s neck and leaned into him. When he got to her room, he realized she was asleep. He didn’t want to put her down. He sat in the rocking chair and put his feet up on the ottoman.  He felt soothed as he held her against his chest.  He closed his eyes and without being aware, he dozed.  An image of Y/N came to him.  It was he fall She was in a flowing dress, cinched at the waist, a blazer and heels.   He was dressed in dark jeans and a leather jacket. They kissed and walked hand-in-hand down the street, chatting and laughing.  

He was jarred awake by his phone ringing. Ben!  He picked it up. “Hey, Buddy-give me a minute!”.  He put the phone on the ottoman, got up carefully and laid Josie in her crib gently, moving the stuffed animals away and covering her with the light blanket.  He slipped off her sandals and left them on the changing table as grabbed his phone, walking out of the room.

“Hey, Ben.” he said.

“Hey-how’s your 36th year treating you so far?” came the response.

“So far, so good.  I’m taking care of the girls for the weekend. Patty and Pete are at a wedding.  It makes me realize that I want to have kids.  Really badly.  Like more than before.  If I can’t get it together by my next birthday, I’m going to get a surrogate and do it that way. On my own.“

“Whoa, that sounds really extreme.  Isn’t that where you have to jerk off into a cup? You don’t even get to have any fun? Wait: Bet you’d meet a smart, pretty and mature woman on Tumblr who’d gladly assist ---try that first. “ Ben laughed. Joe was annoyed, feeling Ben didn’t see how important this was to him. Joe didn’t want to continue the discussion.

“That’s not the point,” he said curtly.  “Moving on, you ok?

“Yeah, yeah, still filming this bloody movie. We should wrap in a few weeks.”  

“Finally! Let me call you next week. I got to get Josie ready so we can pick up Jessie and shop for dinner.”

“You really are Domestic Daddy, aren’t you?” Ben laughed again.

“I hope so.  One day.”  Joe replied softly.

“Seriously.  Those girls are lucky to have you. You’re an amazing Uncle. And you’ll be a super dad.”  Ben said.

They ended the call warmly, and Joe checked himself in the mirror.  He looked like he had been in the hot park running after a toddler most of the day and thought that should be addressed-before he saw Y/N again.  He changed his shirt and freshened up.  He went to the nursery and saw Josie stirring.

“Hey big girl. You ready to get up and see your sister?”  He lifted her out of her crib, still sleepy and laid her on changing table and changed her diaper, shirt and shorts.  He kissed her feet and she giggled.  He buckled her sandals and took her downstairs.

He filled up the water bottle.  ‘Ok, we are ready to roll.”  He scooped her up with the stroller and they were on their way.  

They arrived at camp a little early.  He wheeled Josie in and saw Jessie playing her favorite game, Chinese checkers, with a young counselor. Josie was getting restless and he let her out of the stroller, following her as she walked around.  

“Hi, Joe.”  It was Y/N, still looking fresh after a full day. She bent down to Josie. “Did you have fun in the playground with Uncle Joe?”

“Fun Un JoJo!” she responded as she toddled around and clapped her hands.

Y/N laughed and turned to him.  “A standing ovation. I’m impressed.”

“Ha, well, we had fun, but I have to say, it was tiring. And I’m just watching one! Amazing you look so, uh, calm after running the show here. “ Joe said admirably.

“I’m a third-grade teacher so I’m used to it,”  Y/N said. “I’m working on my admin degree so I can be a Principal one day.  This gives me good practice,” She said.

“Wow, that’s impressive,” Joe said sincerely.  His eyes followed Josie who was headed toward her big sister. Joe followed, with Y/N behind, stopping to check in on various groups.  

“Hi Uncle Joe.  I’m winning,” Jessie said, self-satisfied.

“Creaming me is more like it,” the Counselor said.

“Well, that’s great, but be a good sport about it,” Joe said pointedly to Jessie.  “It’s important to have fun and tell her it was a good game-no matter who wins.”

A counselor came by with an ice pop. She asked Joe. “Would she like one?” “Sure, thanks,” Joe said, as he unwrapped the watermelon flavored pop and took a bite.  It was refreshing and quite tasty.  He offered some to Josie, who nibbled on it, and it started to drip.  He took his backpack off and unzipped it with a flourish, retrieving a napkin to wipe her up.

Meanwhile, as the counselor planned her move, Jessie eyed Y/N, who had sidled up next to her. “Y/N, did you know Uncle Joe is a FAMOUS MOVIE STAR?” she bellowed.

Joe felt the red rising from his neck to his face and he was pretty sure he was creating a new addition to the Crayola 64 pack.  Fucking Embarrassed Red.  Kids really do say the darndest things.  He bent his head down focusing on getting the pop into Josie with minimal mess.

“Wow, interesting,” Y/N responded, playing it cool.  “And he’s a GREAT UNCLE!”

“Who is successfully making a mess with this pop,” he retorted, wiping his mouth and giving Josie another wipe, before she took off for the crafts table. One of the counselors hoisted Josie on the bench and set her up with some crayons and paper.  “You sure?” Joe said not wanting to be a burden. “Oh, not a problem,” the counselor said cheerily.  

Joe looked behind him for Y/N, who had vanished.  He wanted to ask her out. He knew he had a brief window of opportunity, before he took the girls home. This would be the last time he’d see her.   He looked around hoping she’d dart back into the gym. Meanwhile, he moved to Jessie who was close to winning the game.  After a few minutes, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a changed Y/N. He turned to take all of her all in. She was wearing a flowery sundress with wide straps and a deep neckline that accentuated her figure. Her sneakers were replaced with heeled strappy sandals  She looked really lovely. You’re just too good to be true.  Can’t take my eyes off of you. (1) He didn’t want to take his eyes from her.  His plan to approach her was interrupted by Josie waddling over to him and Jessie and the counselor yelling ‘Good Game!”

“C’mon girls,” Joe headed quickly to retrieve the stroller near where Y/N was bidding good-bye to parents.

“You look…nice,”  Joe said, trying to sound neutral. “Big night out?” He wondered if she had a date.

“Thank you.”  Her faced flushed.  “I’m meeting some of my college friends.  One just got engaged and another is expecting.”   “Lots to celebrate.”  Joe said, relived she wasn’t off to a date.

“Yeah,” she said wistfully. “You know, life in the 30’s.”

‘Uh, yeah,” Joe uttered. Suddenly Joe turned, distracted by the girls. He took a deep breath and leaned down. Jessie, can you help Josie into her stroller, please,” Joe said, hoping Jessie would bring it home for him to let this moment unfold.  I can't be contented with yesterday's glory. I can't live on promises winter to spring. Today is my moment, now is my story. (2) Turning to Y/N he said,  “Y/N, I was wondering, if, uh, one day, you might want to grab dinner.” He said.  He held his breathe.  She looked at him.  “I’d love that.  Here, let me give you my number.” She hastily wrote on a paper in her clipboard and gave it to him and he smiled.

He turned to Jessie who was helping Josie into her stroller.  “Thanks,” he said, giving her a big smile.  “You’re such a good helper.  I really appreciate it.”

“Great,” Joe said to Y/N.  I’ll probably need 2 days to recover after my sister gets back,” He laughed. I’ll text you. Maybe we can get together next weekend?  

“That should work,” she said.  “Bye…” her voice trailed off, as a counselor interrupted.

“Have fun tonight,” he called after her, with a brightness in his voice and a spring in his step.  He turned the stroller and grabbed Jessie’s hand. “Bye, Y/N” Jessie called. “You like Y/N don’t you,” Jessie said to Joe.  Kid didn’t miss a thing. “She seems really nice.  Ok. Dinner.” said Joe, changing the topic. “How about we go to the supermarket for nachos ingredients.”    When they arrived home, Joe headed to the kitchen, unpacked the groceries and started cooking dinner as the girls watched Dora the Explorer.  “UNCLE JOE,” Jessie yelled.  “Josie smells!!  “Oh crap,” Joe uttered to himself.  “literally. WTF, I am in the middle of dinner.”  He asked Jessie to hang up her wet swimsuit before he addressed the diaper. . The evening ended with a yummy dinner, The Lion King and a few bedtime stories, which Joe read in a few voices, eliciting giggles from the girls.

Their fun-packed Saturday featured excursions to the Farmer’s market, library and small zoo. After a Thai food dinner, the three of them headed to bed early, exhausted.  

Joe woke too early on Sunday.  The girls would sleep another hour. His sister and Peter would return in the afternoon. Thoughts swirled through his head non-stop, even before he mobilized himself to make coffee.  His first thought was that they could make pancakes; the girls could pour batter into cookie cutter shapes set in the pan.  His second thought was ‘Wow, Ben was right, I really am Domestic Daddy.’ His third thought was Y/N.  He wondered if she told her friends about him-that she was looking forward to their date.  He wondered….Say you'll see me again even if it's just pretend in your wildest dreams. (3). He rolled over and pulled the soft blanket up to his neck, willing to give sleep another try. He drifted off and saw Y/N in his dream. It was winter and they were both bundled in jackets and scarves, holding hands and walking fast, dodging the cold.  

“Two, at least,” she said. “What do you think?”  

“For sure.” Joe said and he turned to her and stopped.  “Well, now that that’s set, we should think about a wedding date first.”  They laughed.

He suddenly felt a warm body climbing on him and he opened his eyes.  “I’m hungry.” a sleepy Jessie said. Joe rolled over moving her next to him. “Good morning.  Me too.   How about pancakes. In cookie cutter shapes?”

“Yay!” Jessie responded.  “I know where mom keeps them.”

“Great. I’ll meet you downstairs with Josie.”

She ran out, and Joe collected himself as he rolled out of bed. He felt positive and hopeful.  Bring on 36!  

SONG NOTES

1.       Can’t take my eyes off of you, Frankie Valli

2.       Today, John Denver

3.       Wildest Dreams, Taylor Swift

#joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello x y/n #joe mazzello #dad!joe #joe mazzello fanfic #bohemian rhapsody fanfic #borhap fan fiction #joe mazzello fluff #joe mazzello angst

[trashforhockeyguys]

Remember You Young- Jeff Skinner

A/N: 100% didn’t plan this, it just kind of happened. So enjoy. Basically inspired by Remember You Young by Thomas Rhett.

You watched him interact with the younger fans. It didn’t seem all that long ago that he was the kid begging for someone to sign his jersey. You couldn’t help but smile, he seemed so grown up now. But even still, you couldn’t help but see him as the kid you’d grown up with. You couldn’t help but remember what it had been like to be by his side and watch him grow.

 Hadn’t it just been yesterday that you were causing hell on the Friday nights that he didn’t have hockey? Or having him sneak out after a coach set curfew so all of you could hang out? How many nights had he climbed the tree outside of your window, just so you could spend more time together? Or how many times had you stolen something out of your parent’s liquor cabinet before heading off to a party with him?

 But this man before you wasn’t that little boy anymore. There was still traces of him of course. You could still see him in the dimpled smile, or whenever he had a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Sometimes even during a game after he’d gotten away with something.

 You saw the boy you’d fallen in love with more behind closed doors. But even though he’d grown up, matured more than you’d thought he could, he was still your boy. He was still your best friend, the love of your life, your ride or die. He was still everything you’d ever wanted and more.

 It’s funny how you’d both changed over the years, but you were still exactly what the other needed. When you were younger, you both needed someone to allow you to escape from the stress of high school and the impending doom that was the future. You both needed to have fun and blow off some steam. But now both of you needed stable. He needed someone to keep him grounded in the midst of his career, and you needed a stable man who was offering you a future.

You’d allowed each other to grow in your own ways. He’d given you the space you needed in college to finally feel independent, but you also knew that he’d call you every night after a game because he just needed to hear your voice. He knew that you’d come to see him, wherever he was, at least once a month, because you’d just miss being with him.

 By your sophomore year of college, you were ready to transfer so you could be close to him. You missed him, you missed the fun boy you’d grown up with, but more importantly, you missed the man you knew he was becoming.

 Watching him now, you couldn’t help but feel proud. You knew he’d become someone that he would’ve looked up to ten years ago. The thought almost moved you to tears. You’d been there every step of this long journey. All of the late nights that you spent assuring him that he deserved to be where he was, all of the times you listened to him talk about how uncertain his future with his team was. He’d sent care package after care package during every single one of your finals and exams. He was the first one there for your graduation, with a massive bouquet of roses. You were always there on the glass for every game you could make, proudly wearing his jersey.

It didn’t matter where the two of you went, and if you went together or not. You’d never not see him as that kid. He could go and change as much as he wanted, but you’d always be able to see little glimpses of him. Whether that meant seeing it on the ice, or during an interview, or simply while the two of you were on the couch watching tv. He’d always be the teenage boy that stole your heart without you realizing.

 You were fifteen when you finally realized that you actually loved him. It was turning a hockey game, you were watching him just like you always did. Somewhere between the first puck drop and the final buzzer, you realized that you didn’t want to live without him. Maybe it was the way that he was always smiling, or how he skated right to you when he scored, or maybe it was just him. You weren’t sure. But after the game, while the two of you were at dinner, he made the first move and then it was full speed ahead after that.

 “What’s that look for?” he asked after he was done.

 “Just reminiscing, that’s all.”

 He smiled at you and pulled you closer so he could kiss you. Even all these years later, you still felt the same way that you did when he first kissed you. You still felt the same spark when he touched you. You continued you fall further and further in love with him every single day.

 “C’mon, let’s go home.”

 He grabbed your hand, his fingers grazing the ring that he’d put on your finger the week before. You hadn’t imagined that you’d get this far when you were sixteen. But now you couldn’t see yourself with anyone else. He was your past, and now he’s your future too. You’d follow him to the ends of the world if you had to.

 You leaned your head on his shoulder as he drove. You wished you could fully put into words how much you love him. But out of all of the words in the English language, you’d never be able to fully articulate everything.

 You didn’t even have to think about saying yes the day he proposed. He didn’t make a huge deal of it, because he knew you would’ve hated it if he did. Instead, he just started talking about your lives together while you were walking through a park. Next thing you knew, he was stopping and dropping down on one knee. You started crying instantly, you never thought you’d be that one to cry, but you did. He launched into a long speech about how much you meant to him, and how he could never imagine his life without you. You’d had the hardest time letting him get through it all before you said yes. But you did say yes.

 “I can’t wait to marry you,” You suddenly blurted out.

 He raised your hand and kissed your knuckles, right over the ring, “I know baby, neither can I.”

 Nearly a year later, in the early summer heat, you walked down the aisle. You did your best not to cry as you walked towards your fiancé, your future. You giggled when one of the other boys gave you a thumbs up, mouthing how beautiful you looked. Meanwhile, your soon to be husband had his hand over his mouth, but you could still see the dimpled smile and the tears that threatened to fall.

 “For worse or for better,” You whispered to him.

 “From now ‘till forever.”

 He twirled you around the dance floor for hours. You couldn’t stop smiling the entire night. Eventually, you were able to slip away for a moment and enjoy a simple glass of wine. You watched your families all interact together. His sisters were all talking with your brothers and cousins, while his brother was off talking to some of your old friends. His teammates were all goofing off on the dance floor, having the time of their lives.

 You eventually caught him looking at you with a big smile on his face. Once you locked eyes with each other, he made his way over to you. You could see a sort of reminiscent look in his eye. A look you knew very well.

 “What?”

 “Nothing, just thinking about how you used to hate wine.”

 “When?”

 “Back when all you liked was shots of tequila,” he replied, “Remember that summer where all we did was shut down bars?”

 You laughed, the memories of that summer were foggy at best. But you remembered a few really good nights. You also remembered how happy the two of you had been that year. That was the last year that you’d spent apart before you transferred schools and moved in with him.

 “I hardly remember, but I remember enough.”

 You set your wine glass down and pulled him back towards the dance floor. They weren’t exactly playing a slow song, but all you wanted to do was sway in his arms. You just wanted him to hold you close and take in this night.

 Eventually, the two of you started dancing with our childhood best friends, the group that had been there through it all. Then his teammates joined in, one life joined with another. You laughed so hard throughout the night that you could feel a headache coming on. But you felt nothing but pure joy and love.

 You married your childhood best friend, your rock, the absolute love of your life. You were his wife, he was your husband. You wished you could go back and tell your teenage self, who was so worried about how he felt, that you’d end up marrying him.

 He chose you. You chose him. And now you two got to spend the rest of your lives together. You could continue to grow together, and be on the wild ride that was life, together.

 “I love you, Y/N.”

 “I love you, Jeff.”

 You’d known for years, that no matter how much time went by, you’d always love him like this. You didn’t think there was anything that would ever change that. No trade, no playoff record, not even the Stanley Cup. You’d love him until the day you died. You’d be at every game that you could because you loved seeing him play. You’d miss him every time he left for a road trip. You’d beg him to take you out for food at 2am because you wanted a burger.

 “Here’s to forever, Mrs. Skinner,” He leaned down to kiss you.

 “You’re so cheesy, oh my god.”

 “Yeah, I know. But you’ve stayed with me all these years.”

 “I don’t plan on going anywhere, don’t worry,” You promised, “You’re stuck with me,”

 You held up your ring finger and grinned. You hoped this feeling never went away. You hoped he’d never stop looking at you the way he was in that moment, eyes full of love and adoration. You hoped you never stopped loving each other the way you had since you were teenagers.

 “Until forever.”

#jeff skinner imagines #jeff skinner imagine #Jeff skinner oneshot #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl one shot #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fanfic #hockey oneshot #nicolewritesthings

[adamsvanrhijn]

@molesly sent an excerpt from what we must to get by (smithens on ao3) for the dvd commentary meme!

and it’s so long jesus why do i write dialogue with all these line breaks and beats (because that’s how people talk, womp womp)

so i guess the preemptive thing too here is that like, this fic is based off of a blatantly ahistoric and unrealistic concept, so i had to lean into that A Lot to make it work, and so there’s like far more than a nonzero amount of that bullshit going on here..............

here being, thomas and richard just having had intense passionate frustrated sex in a hotel room in harrogate, england and then after chilling out a bit calling the wife richard never mentioned having, aka my 1920s lesbian oc fred, for whom i would die

“Mr. Richard Ellis calling.”

A beat.

“Oh, thank goodness, I thought it might have been someone out of the Comptroller’s office — Molly’s over, but I’m back to work in a quarter of an hour, just darning a stocking.”

we got some flippant husband-wife interaction going on here....

fred is a lady’s maid and darning stockings is a lady’s maid thing. they reference the comptroller in the film (this being the man richard impersonates) and i’m like, not actually sure how all that works, handwave, but again, this fic is like, entirely handwave for reasons of What The Fuck Were You Thinking Julian Fellowes

For whatever reason, this makes Richard frown.

“Be ca – say hello for me.”

He isn’t looking at him, but he’s started rubbing his hand in circles upon his thigh.

He’s just as nervous as he is, Thomas realises, and he puts his hand — glove’s back on, now — flat upon his own and presses. Richard takes a deep breath.

richard “do as i say not as i do” ellis, king of telling people to be more cautious about their illegal activity and then absolutely not doing that, king of being semi-aware of this and trying to make a good impression on his new boyfriend and continually fucking up because he’s 100 feet deep in the closet

and thomas of course is having a really weird week and doesn’t want to fuck this up. 

“Mrs. Davies told me about the accident,” Fred says. Thomas obviously doesn’t know her well enough to get a sense of what she’s like over the phone, but she sounds guarded, to say the least, hesitant. “I’ve been worried sick, truly. How’s your cousin?”

“Rather a false alarm,” Richard says. “He’ll be quite all right, I hope, everything’s on the mend. I’m with him now, in fact.”

richard, guilt-tripping the fuck out of whoever is in charge of him in this scenario: my cousin has been in a grievous accident and is on his deathbed, since i’m already in yorkshire anyway can i just like, go up there and see him before he dies and then be back in london first thing tomorrow, You Won’t Even Know I’m Gone

i invented a third valet for the king of england (yes he would have had one) (i fucking know right) who is married just for like, the drama of it all (again, may i reiterate, none of these people irl would be married or have children, they would be fired if they did). anyway he tells his wife and his wife tells richard’s wife, who knows her husband and thus is like, oh i know exactly what’s going on here. king and queen of making shit up because you’re in the closet

honestly this fic was really fun because i got to be like, okay what IS historically accurate, and how can i alter that in a way that makes anything near resembling sense... fun 

“Well, then – can he hear me?”

“Yes.”

again..... she knows what he’s like... they’ve been married for 13 years... ok idk i f i can keep doing the line by line gonna jump down a bit

“Hello, Thomas.”

His mouth is suddenly dry. “Hello, er…” — what does he call her? what would a cousin-in-law call her? not Mrs. Ellis, and not Fred, either, he’s pretty sure, Richard made it sound like that was a private nickname, it’s not exactly common for a woman —

“Winnie,” she says.

“Winnie.”

When others might be listening, at least.

“It was so good of Richard to see to you, after what happened, the least he could do, really. I’m always telling him he ought to make time for family and such as he’s able.”

What she means, he can tell, is, sorry my husband fucked you over.

He likes her. Or he will, at least.

“Yeah, it's… a good thing he could make it.”

Again......... bitches be circumspect, etc. thomas is not used to this because he is in limbo at downton so there’s some hesitancy here. fred is absolutely being flippant in order to get the point across that she knows what’s going on. richard is internally putting his head in his hands and breathing heavy

also fred talks like an american and i’m aware of that and sorry not sorry...... that’s just how i wrote her.... i didn’t realise until i went thru again and was like aw fuck 

He doesn’t miss the start of a smile on Richard’s face, nor the sudden change to nonchalance when he notices Thomas noticing — but it’s there in his eyes, still.

Here come the butterflies again.

The relief of being on your way to forgiveness!!! The mortifying ordeal of being known! THEM!

thomas is not used to people wanting him around and valuing his presence (this is a theme in all of my thomas/richard fic tbh.... womp i’m predictable) and experiencing that makes him nervous and cautious and also.... perhaps feeling good.

“And the arrangements for care and whatnot, everything’s all honest and in good order?”

She’s exactly like Richard — articulate, maybe just a touch self-regarding. This is clearly a woman who thinks before she speaks.

“Think so, yes, or – it will be.”

He threads his fingers between Richard’s and underneath his hand, fingertips to palm.

“I’m so pleased to hear it.”

“As was I,” Richard says. He squeezes Thomas’s fingers. The pressure feels nice – must be a good day, though it helps that it’s warm outside and he got his blood flowing, probably.

i know fandom takes care of this pretty well but like, the fact that thomas never has problems with his hand again in the show? inch resting. there would absolutely be nerve damage and reduced grip strength and joint stiffness. he does do that flex and curl thing with his fingers a few times which i’ve probably gone overboard with but yeah. anyway just bringing it up. thomas is not often holding hands with people and he doesn’t know what it feels like especially on this hand so it is additionally surprising that it’s soothing i guess. idk i might have gone That Deep... embarrassing

When Fred speaks next, her voice is different; it’s lighter. She’s teasing him: “we ought to have you up to London soon as you’re feeling better; you’ve been on our minds, you know, and dear Richard speaks ever so highly of you – ”

“Say, Winifred, could you put Molly on?”

Thomas kicks him and hopes it comes off as affectionate and not catty.

Fred laughs, bright and sparkling.

“Sure thing.”

STOP EMBARRASSING ME IN FRONT OF MY BOYFRIEND >:-(

thomas is of course being affectionate AND a little catty. not enough he hears that people say nice thing about him.

anyway as i said above this entire fic was like really fun and also cathartic to write in some ways, because like, god, literally no other reason for that plotline to ever have come to anyone except for homophobia because it straight up just w o u l d n o t h a p p e n

it wouldn’t happen! it wouldn’t happen! what the fuuuuck

but it was fun to just be like, this by its nature cannot be historically accurate, so i can handwave some things and just go full melodrama, which, Let’s Be Honest, is really what they do with downton abbey in the first place, so you could say i’m just writing in the spirit of the show! if of course the spirit of the show had like 500% more gay in it

i want to go back and edit this fic too because i made some choice in as far as like, what to include goes bc i wanted to get chapters out (which i also did w ywntmha) and now i’m like hmmmmmmm maybe these things should be in this fanfiction after all.................. there’s like a hundred times more richard-being-a-servant in the drafts as well as some additional lesbian content so. maybe that’ll be added into the actual fic at some point in the next 12 weeks; we’ll see!!!!

#downton abbey tag #my fanfiction #fic commentary meme

[lucyhend8]

I Remember.....

So a bit of context for this piece. I wrote this as a way to get into my protagonist’s head. Consider this like a diary entry or a letter that Lucy would never send to James. It tells the full story of them, from her perspective, through flashes of moments that stood out to her specifically. Hope you enjoy!

I remember when you first caught my attention. It was that day in the computer room. Stephen was out and I was too awkward to talk to anyone. I sat at my computer, clicking half-heartedly through a fashion website. You were to my left. I was ignoring you. I wasn't supposed to talk to you at all so I kept to myself. I made sure not to look when your actions filled my periphery. I struggled to keep my eyes glued to the screen as you moved around in your seat. That is when the rubber band hit the side of my face. That broke my concentration, very effectively I might add. I reached down and retrieved the band from it's position on the floor. I remember that the band was blue and worn looking. I flicked my eyes up to meet yours and you broke out in a grin. That was when I broke my promise to Stephen. I talked to you and actually enjoyed it. I found myself genuinely laughing as you  said little phrases in Russian. It had been a long time since someone who wasn't Laurence had made me laugh like that. It frightened me a bit. As I left the room, Maria caught my arm. Eyebrows scrunched, glasses sliding down her nose, lips pursed. "Stephen won't like that". I remember not giving a damn what he thought for the first time ever.  

      ~~~~

I remember sitting in front of you in Mr. Murphy's classroom. Your writing notebook was out on the desk and I peeked at it curiously. You had mentioned that you liked writing and I was bursting with interest. I wanted to read it so badly and you obliged. I remember skimming through the pages and noting the melancholic tone of the whole thing. I was impressed by your skill and eager to read more. I remember that you named the love interest "El". That didn't sit too well with me, I had a feeling I knew who that was based on. I tried to ignore the slight pang of disappointment in my chest. I smiled and thought about starting my own writing back up.

~~~~

I remember when I finally admitted it to myself. I liked you. There was no point in denying it anymore. You see, I really didn't want to. Liking you would cause drama, drama that I most definitely didn't need. But. There's only so many ways I could tell myself that I was indifferent to your existence. It was when we were in Italy. I was in the red dress. The one I love. It makes me feel pretty. I saw your eyes when I went up to you. They widened ever so slightly, subtle enough that I was the only one who noticed. I remember the feeling of satisfaction I got from that. I had caught your attention. It was then that I let myself acknowledge the feelings that you had stirred up inside of me. I liked you, it was that simple.

~~~~

I remember wanting to get closer to you. In my head, I deluded myself into believing you wanted to get closer to me too. That trip. The adventure centre. Stephen wasn't going and I was relieved. I could talk to you with no guilt. I sat on the bus with Sophie. I saw you sitting right at the back and deliberately picked a seat in the middle. Within three minutes, you were sitting behind me. I remember a smugness settling over me. I pretended that you startled me. The day was great except for one little part. Someone whacked into me and I felt as though a hand was closing around my lungs. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move. The collision had triggered a memory that I didn't even know existed. You were there, with the mandatory yellow helmet contrasting against your Slipknot T-shirt. You were confused. You didn't realize what was happening- no one did. I paced back and forward, trying to escape my own mind. You nudged me slightly and made some joke. Then you kept talking to me like nothing was happening. I remember a sense of calm settling over me. I was ok. It had stopped. Because of you. How had you done that?

~~~~

I remember going to Collin's party. You weren't going to be there and I was disappointed. I wanted to see you. You suggested that we meet up as you lived nearby and I was all too keen to. Only, you didn't follow through on that offer. You ignored me. I was confused. I was scared that you thought I was desperate. I was also scared that you were going to hurt me. I had so many scenarios in my mind that Aishlin told me were ridiculous. What if this was some joke you had with your friends? What if you were just looking for an easy shift? What if I was just some joke to you? I pretended I wasn't scared when Stephen warned me but that was just to get him off my case. I couldn't shut my feelings off like I did with all the others. I had lost my ability to feel nothing, when it came to you. I remember that was the last time I talked to you all summer.

~~~~

I remember feeling hurt. You were ignoring me. That hurt turned into anger fairly quickly. I thought "Screw you". That was the start of my habit of hooking up with random people to get over you. If you didn't want me, fine someone else would. There were a lot that summer, I won't lie. I wouldn't be able to tell you how many. I recall one night in particular, it was bad. I remember being with six different guys and don't get me started on the ones I don't remember. I made mistakes, so many of them. When I got back to school, I remember seeing you for the first time in three months. You said hi to me and Stephen. I grabbed onto his arm. I turned to him and he pulled me in for a hug. My heart had jumped when I saw you, I hated it. I had tried so hard but it hadn't worked. I felt like an idiot.

~~~~

I remember that night in December when you apologized. You explained that it was something you had to deal with, it wasn't my fault. It was all inevitable from then on. Trust me, I was warned once again. You had hurt me but I knew your reason and I understood. I understood better than you could believe. I let myself fall again. Everything was forgotten. You made me happy and I told myself that that was a good reason to keep talking to you. I wanted to open up to you. This was a first for me. Stephen had forced the truth from me, my parents had guilted the truth from me, but you. You made me want to tell you things. It was weird. I remember being completely unprepared for that feeling.

~~~~

I remember actually telling you that I liked you. I doubt you remember it. New Year's Day 2017. You texted me while you were drunk. How did the conversation kick off? You said you'd "bang" me. Your way with words really kicked in while intoxicated. You asked me if I "like liked" you. This is when I started to freak out. You see, I'd never had to admit anything like that before. My face tells everyone what I'm thinking. It's inconvenient but comes in handy. My emotions are read from my facial expressions, easy. No need for me to articulate anything. Then there's you, asking if I had feelings for you. Even though it was obvious to everyone in a ten mile radius of me, you claimed to be completely oblivious. I remember that I began to shake -which won't surprise you now. I was so bad that my cousin thought I was having a night terror. My teeth also chattered but somehow she fell back asleep. When I finally admitted that I did like you, your response was "aw that's cute". You've no idea how much that pissed me off. I was pretty sure you didn't reciprocate my feelings and talking to you was only making me madder. At one stage, you asked me if I'd ever kissed anyone. I told you about five people. I lied. I know. I couldn't bring myself to tell you the truth. You were shocked by that due to my nervousness. It was just you that made me nervous, not kissing. With you, I was terrified but also excited. This was all new. Everything to do with you was new. I hadn't experienced any of this. I asked you if you liked me, even a little bit. You said you obviously did and any anger dissolved. I remember that that was the first time you ever called me lass. Later that day, you texted me again, except this time you were sober. I was excited to talk to you again. That excitement died fairly quickly. You began to emphasize how drunk you were. You said it a lot of times. You said it so much that doubt started to seep into my thoughts. I felt like you were trying to let me know that you only said that stuff because you were drunk. God, that hurt so badly. I only half replied to you from then. My head was pounding and this confusion wasn't helping. I remember putting my phone away and wishing I hadn't said anything.

~~~~

I remember Valentine's Day very clearly. What happened on this day was a very big deal for me. This was the day that I gave you the full list of reasons I liked you. I had debated whether or not to tell you. On one hand, it was a very open thing to do especially for me and I had no idea how you would react. On the other hand, I've always been a very self-destructive person. I like to do things that would probably end badly for me just to see what will happen. That was part of the reason that I told you. I remember that I gave you quite an impressive list. Once the impulsive part of me was allowed free reign at the keyboard, it just kept going. I remember your reply~" that took balls". Then you kinda left but I didn't mind. I didn't really expect you to reply. I had just dropped this whole load of information. I understood that you probably wanted to process this new information. That isn't the only memory I have of that night.

I remember getting the text. I was texting Sarah. At this stage, Conor and Sarah had their little fan club over us. I didn't mind it really. They only wanted us to be happy so I let them on as long as they never actually interfered. Conor, though, decided to try get Ella into their little fan club. Can we just have a moment of silence to honour the death of his last brain cell? I know that she told you. I know that you went apeshit. You texted Conor and yes, I saw the text. The full thing, within 10 minutes of you sending it. It hurt so bloody much. I didn't realise I could hurt that much at the time (future Lucy giggles at that stupidity.) I memorized the text. It's still ingrained in my memory but I doubt you want me to recite it. What you don't realise is that I had heard words eerily similar to those before. Except, they were said to me. Someone I trusted more than anyone in the world said them.   "Lucy, you're the type of girl that guys want to fuck then never see again. Don't you realise that if I wanted you, I'd have you?" Those exact words were said to me maybe 2 weeks before seeing the text. So now you know why it affected me so badly. Two guys had that opinion, it must have been true. I became kind of wary of you from that day. You were going to hurt me. I knew it. I also felt so stupid because I was just going to let it happen anyway. I remember chiding myself for not learning.

~~~~

I remember getting more drunk texts from you. This time it was after you spent the evening at Ella’s for her birthday. Yes, I knew about that- she liked to keep me informed, even then. You kept trying to get me to take advantage of you. You also kept telling me how much you hated yourself. You don't understand how difficult it was for me to hear this. You kept asking me all these questions. Like if I "wanted you intimately"- your words. You also wanted to know if I'd ever; "be your girlfriend", "kiss you", "send nudes" or "love you". I was getting a bad feeling from all of this. I felt very put-on-the-spot. I began to get very anxious. I remember that you virtually kissed me and then freaked out when I refused to do it back. Honestly, I thought someone had put you up to this as a way to make a fool out of me. I thought that maybe you were sending this to your friends and laughing at me. You started talking about how much you hated yourself again. You asked me to give you more of the reasons that I liked you. At this stage, I was in panic mode. I wasn't ready to give you another reason. I needed to actually prepare to tell you. You weren't giving me that time. You pushed and pushed but I guess drunk you didn't realise that I was reaching my limit. I cracked. It was sudden but I felt it. I was in a corner and I have bad reactions when something is out of my control. I got out of bed, ran to the bathroom and threw up. I sank to the floor then and there, so completely drained. Tears spilled down my cheeks as negative thoughts swarmed my brain. I remember leaning my head against the bath and staring at the ceiling. Eventually, I pushed myself up and went back to bed, grabbing my phone as I did so. Once the tears stopped, I was devoid of emotion. I felt very detached to the situation. I replied to you with some reason but honestly, my heart wasn't in it. I was gone, in that moment, nothing you could say would reach me. I said goodnight but remained awake for several more hours. I remember dreading having to see you on Monday at school, another first for me.

~~~~

I remember getting a text. It was the next day. I doubt you know about this. The subject of the text; you. The sender; let's call them X- I can't disclose the real person’s name, you gotta believe me on this. Anyway, X sent me a text about you. They seemed concerned about your welfare. According to them, I was just a "stupid whore" who "doesn’t deserve" you. I was told that I'd caused unnecessary confusion in your life and that it would be best to leave you alone. I made you sad, constantly and I was too much of a selfish bitch to admit it. I believed every word of it. I assumed that you had told this person that you felt this way. Crushed is not even the word to describe how I felt in that moment. I had to walk away from you. I was the one hurting you all this time. X opened my eyes and I prepared for one of the hardest conversations I've ever had.  I remember feeling sick to my stomach at the prospect of what I was going to do.

~~~~

I remember putting a stop to everything. That night, I broke my own heart, never mind yours. I shattered myself. The fact that I had to cause you pain, killed me. I started the conversation with an accusing tone right from the start. I needed it to seem like I was completely done. I wanted you to think I'd had enough. I used the text as an excuse. I blamed you and threw it in your face. The goal was to make you never want to speak to me again. I needed you to hate me. Believe it or not, my outward appearance was completely calm. No one in the house could tell that I was upset. That was when you started to reply. I wasn't prepared for you to fight back. I tried to stay outwardly calm but the turning point came when you said, "you can think what you want lass." It was the lass that got me. For something that always made me so happy to be used in this setting, really threw me. You went there. Instead of processing sadness like a normal human being, I started to get mad. You mentioned that I was looking for a relationship. That was the last straw. You knew nothing about me. You didn't know what was in my head. I had told you nothing. There was no way you could possibly understand how I felt. That's one thing I really hate. People assuming they understand me, like I'm this simple little imbecile. I put on a show and trick everyone but that is far from what goes on in my mind. So when you assumed you had me down, I started to shake. Not from nerves- from anger this time. I continued to be a bitch to you. The impulsive part of me almost said some really nasty things. I stopped myself. I wanted you to hate me but I couldn't bring myself to go as far as I could have. I can be a horrible person. I know how to destroy people with my words and I had to stop myself that night. I remember that I had dance practice right after the conversation. I got dressed and went as normal. I walked into the hall, saw my friend and broke down. She hadn't seen me cry for years, never mind sob. I told her what happened between sobs. When I talked to her about that moment months later, she said that she had never seen me like that. It was one of the worst days of her life because for once I couldn't control myself. The last time she saw me like that in public was at my aunt's funeral. I broke down completely. She kept watching me during the class. I knew she was afraid that I’d start again. I managed to hold it in, at least until I got home. After saying goodnight to my parents, I went to bed. Then I let myself really cry. I hated myself more than ever then. I remember wishing I could just disappear and never feel this way again. I had lost you.

~~~~

I remember another kick to the stomach. The day I found out you were with Ella. Sweet Christ, James. You had to do it. I was walking around the field with Rachel. I was studying for a French test, the verb Pouvoir jumping up at me. That was when I saw you. Sitting side by side, all cuddly. My grip on my book tightened. No, this couldn't be happening. Right then, the sun got too hot. The field got too crowded. You looked too smug. I could have sworn I made eye contact with you but I can't tell if that was just my imagination or not. I looked away and went back to studying but there was so many things going through my head. When I got home, I marched straight out to my sunroom. My French book hit the wall. I stared at where it landed and I soon joined it. I sat there for hours, doing nothing. My dad brought my dinner out to me. I didn't give a fuck as I threw it- plate and all- out the window. I fell asleep there and my dad lifted me to bed. I remember feeling very alone.

~~~~

I remember when Jack started to show an interest in me. The whole group was up in Stephen's house, drinking ourselves into oblivion. I drank a lot, I mean a lot and somehow found myself curled up in his lap for the entire night. That relationship was doomed from day one. When the main reason you get with someone is to get over someone else, you can't really be surprised when it ends in flames. I tried to be into him. I tried so hard. I wanted to be wanted. So I got into a relationship that I didn't want in the first place. I didn't want a boyfriend. I became his property. I couldn't do this, I couldn't do that. I don't fare well with being told what to do. It was two months of fun, then four months of hell. After the cute little beginning stage wore off, not even he wanted me anymore- well he wanted one part specifically, without the rest. I wasn't ready for that. He blamed me for this. I "didn't love him as much as he loved me". That was when I told him I didn't love him at all. From then, he only wanted me when he was drunk. Then, he really only wanted sex, all or nothing. He also didn't understand the meaning of no. When I would say no, he would try guilt me into doing stuff. That bullshit wouldn't work on me. The worst time was one night when he got so drunk that he claims to have no recollection of it. I was at his house . He played his usual little tricks except this time I had to physically stop him. No one knows about this. I was able to deal with this because frankly it's not the first time I've had to get out of a situation like that. I went out to his garden and I sat on the path. I couldn't stop my thoughts from going to you. I remember thinking of how much better off you were for not being in my train wreck of a life.

~~~~

I remember going to that party at the very start of sixth year. It was the first big night out in the year and after the summer I'd had, I needed it. I was really excited. I planned my outfit very carefully, I needed to look great. I had a few drinks over the course of a few hours before hand so I was in a happy drunken zone when I arrived. I had been sipping a drink when I saw you walk in. I immediately downed that drink and went to take a few shots. There was no way I could deal with you being there sober. Especially with your girlfriend at your side. I intentionally went over to her when she was talking to Stephen. I intentionally hugged her. I intentionally did it where you could see. I wanted to make you as uncomfortable as possible. From what I saw, it worked. I could see your brain whirling from where I was. I got a lot of satisfaction from that. As far as I was concerned, you deserved it. Later on, when I was dancing near the table that she was sitting on, you got your revenge for that. I could see you over her shoulder but I ignored you. You were whispering with Paul and you both looked very concerned. Then I saw you start to strut over- yes, you strutted- and I knew that I wasn't going to like what was about to happen. You jumped over the table and kissed her, in my face. Ah. What a gem you were. I had no problem with you kissing your girlfriend, it was the fact that you did it right in front of me that annoyed me. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.Then you promptly fled from the table. She turned to me and said "how random, he does that all the time." I laughed and gasped "no way!" No one around me picked up on the sarcasm. You texted me that night and let me know how great I looked. I didn't reply but you let me know that "sober James agrees". I remember wondering what the hell you were playing at.

~~~~

I remember that our Debs was a big turning point for me. Two things became clear to me that night. One; I was still into you. Two; I needed to break up with  Jack. The first one came to me while we were in the hotel. The smile. As I walked around one of the tables, I caught your eye. I couldn't help but to break out in a giant smile. You smiled back. In that moment, my vision tunneled. Either side of me, people disappeared and it was just you. I forgot about my boyfriend. I forgot about your girlfriend. I forgot about all complications. It was just you. And me. That simple. I remember that you texted me a few days later and said "that was some smile". That was when I knew that I hadn't just made up the moment. I barely let myself dwell on what that meant. My second revelation hit when we were at the after party. It will shock you to find out that Jack got way too drunk and tried to grope me. Scandalous, so not like him! He basically threw a little hissy fit right then and there. He threatened to leave if I didn't hook up with him. What did I do? I called his mum and told her that he wanted to go home. That pissed him off and I was glad. He went home all mad at me and honestly I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn't want to deal with him any longer. At some point in the night, I was talking to you. The conversation lifted what would have been a terrible after party otherwise. I remember wanting to thank you for that.

~~~~

I remember when you finally kissed me. We had been steadily getting closer and closer through the months and it was both amazing and painful. Stephen and Ash wanted me to stop liking you, still do, but they don't know about everything that has happened. I couldn't tell them, I couldn't tell anyone. That day, when we met up, I told Stephen it was for a history project. He was a bit wary but he didn't question me too much. I hadn't intended for anything to happen that day. I just knew that you were upset about something, and I somehow make you feel less sad. Everything was so surreal. I felt like I'd been transported into a movie which kinda makes sense considering both of our flairs for the dramatic. I blame the writer part in both of us. Ironically, I wouldn't be able to tell you how it happened. I went partly into shock. One minute we were standing there, the next thing I knew, you were kissing me. That is the best and worst thing you could have done. This was something that I'd been wanting for years. But, on the other hand, I was suddenly so close but still really far. A kiss didn't change the fact that you had a girlfriend. My nerves were so bad. Let me assure you, I'm not usually like that. Again, it was you. You have this effect on me and I can't control it. Keeping this to myself has been incredibly difficult. I've been dying to tell someone, anyone. I'm ready to burst, of course I won't because that wouldn't be fair to you. You claimed to be torn but didn't it ever occur to you that, once upon time, maybe I was torn too? It's been a month, a whole month and I haven't slept properly since. Guilt, doubt and fear keep me up. Guilt over what I'm doing. Doubt about whether you're actually that into me. Fear that you may get tired of me soon. Everything is in your hands and I sometimes feel powerless. But then I talk to you and all of this disappears. Every negative thought in my brain evaporates instantly. Please, don't abuse this power.

~~~~

I don't know if you're familiar with the metaphor of the frozen lake. I'll explain it now, in case you aren't. Your frozen lake stands for what you want most in the world. You want it so bad that all logic goes out the window and your heart takes over. You can see it, it's right there in the middle of this frozen lake. You risk anything to get to you, to the point of self-destruction. You don't see that the ice is thinner the closer you get so you keep running to it until you inevitably drown in it. There is only one way that you can cross the lake. You don't run. You walk, watch your step and make your way. I've been standing on my frozen lake for three years. I've been tiptoeing so carefully. One foot in front of the other. It has felt like I've drowned a few times but I always manage to resurface and keep going. I'm so close now, as close as I've ever been. I know it would kill to drown now but I don't see any cracks in the ice. In fact, it feels stronger than ever. I bet the view from the middle is beautiful.

Tin Soldier, all I can ask is that you be careful with my fragile heart, I don't give it to just anyone.

#remember #writing #writer #writblr #letter #lucy #james

[pantherlover]

Rosemary and Rue Re-Read: Part 8

Here’s part 8!  As always: possible spoilers up to Night and Silence!

Chapter 15

“Toby, don’t be dead, don’t be dead.”  It sounded almost like Tybalt’s voice, too distorted and far away to really tell.

Here’s the first time that Tybalt saves Toby’s life!  Welcome to the rest of your life, Tybalt; no one can ever say that you weren’t given adequate warning.

LIIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Oh, I miss her so much.  I will hold on to the likely delusional hope that she’ll come back until the series is over.  (SHE WASN’T EATEN BY THE NIGHT HAUNTS, OKAY?!  THERE’S STILL A CHANCE!!!!!)

I wonder how well Lily and Amandine knew each other.  There had to be a reason that Lily was the only person from Faerie that Amandine introduced Toby to.

I kind of want to see the AU where Toby worked for Lily and not Devin.  I doubt she would’ve been injured less, but she might’ve been better at putting herself back together again.  Plus, you know, she wouldn’t have worked with Devin.

What was the reason behind cursing Lily too?  I know that if she’d been free she would’ve been able to send for help, but if Simon ‘put up walls’ around her fiefdom, shouldn’t everyone in the fiefdom have been affected?  Why was Lily the only one forgotten?

Also, it’s super heartbreaking to think that Lily’s people forgot her for 14 years, and then only got her back for like, 2 years before she died.

“Really, October, there wouldn’t be any need for this sort of thing if you would just stop jumping in front of bullets.”

This could be Lily joking about Toby being shot at the moment, but it kind of felt to me like Toby had actually been shot before?  Which makes me so curious about cases she’d had before she was turned into a fish.  Were they fae cases?  Were they human cases?  How many times has Lily needed to patch Toby up because she thinks ‘self preservation’ is what you use to make food last longer?

Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh of all of Toby’s allies that she had before the pond, Lily’s the only one that she’s completely honest with.  I!  Love!  Them!  So!  Much!!!!

Chapter 16

It’s really nice to see someone fussing over Toby, and to see Toby letting them; she’ll let Tybalt/May/Quentin force her to eat occasionally, but I don’t think she sits quietly and obediently follows orders from anyone other than Lily.

“People have been trying to kill you for as long as I’ve known you; it seems to be a normal part of your existence, and I’ve grown resigned to that fact.”

What did Toby DO before she was put in the pond?!

Also, given that Lily’s known her since before Toby even joined Faerie, does that mean that Evening has been sending people to try to kill Toby for that long?  Or does Amandine possibly have other enemies we don’t know about yet?

“Your mother will not forgive me for your death... I think you might be surprised by what she would do.”

What does Lily know about Amandine that she’s so sure about that?

“I pushed myself to my feet and followed her, pausing to take my bloody clothes from a Puca with dragonfly wings and white-blind eyes.  She looked familiar, like someone I’d known once, but I didn’t ask.”

Possible character that will become relevant later?

I keep forgetting that the book’s supposed to be set around Christmas; I live in Alberta, and apparently a setting doesn’t register as ‘winter’ to me unless someone’s dealing with a surprise snowfall at inconvenient times.

Oh, man, Julie.  Re-reading this introduction is so sad now, because Toby’s so happy to see her!  And it’s going to go so badly so fast.

Julie also has the lovely distinction of being the reason Tybalt dislikes me so much.  We had quite a few hostile encounters during my time in the Summerlands, most of which ended with him reminding me that he’d be happy to gut me if it weren’t for my mother.  When we grew up, Julie followed me out of her uncle’s Court and all the way Home - the first Cait Sidhe to pull that kind of stunt.  Lucky me, he decided to blame me instead of her, because I was the “smart one”.

So this paragraph brings up a lot of questions for me: when/where did Toby and Tybalt ‘encounter’ each other in the Summerlands?  Did Tybalt have a lot of contact with Amandine, even if he didn’t with the Torquills?  I kind of doubt tha Julie would’ve been the first Cait Sidhe to ever temporarily abandon Court to go try out other things; did Toby mean that Julie was the first time someone in Tybalt’s court had done that?  Also, Tybalt calling Toby the ‘smart one’ - that says a lot about Julie’s decision making skills, and none of them are very flattering.

Thin blood is a social stigma in Faerie.  It’s isn’t enough to ban you completely.  Some of Faerie’s greatest scholars and magical theoreticians were thin-blooded: it gave them the ability to see us for what we were, but at a distance, and that made them stronger than most people can understand.

I wonder if this is going to come up as a plot in the main series?  There’s a short story about the Luidaeg helping the merlins in a war against Faerie so that Oberon would step in and create the hope chests, plus Marcia talked about being thin-blooded in Night and Silence; with mortals possibly becoming a bigger part of the plot in future books, I think a merlin is going to show up at some point.

The Cait Sidhe don’t fall in love often; mostly, they get involved in short, torrid affairs that don’t mean anything to either side, and they never fall in love with changelings if they can help it.

Admittedly, we don’t see Toby have a ton of interaction with the Cait Sidhe?  But what we DO see makes me think that this is, uh... not strictly true.  Not just from Tybalt!  Tybalt’s friend in Portland who’s name I can’t remember is so in love with his wife, that he plans to step down and let his daughter take over being Monarch of their Court when his wife is old enough to need to be taken care of.  Which makes me wonder if the above quote is what Amandine thinks; we know she thinks of shapeshifter fae, considering her comments about Tybalt in The Brightest Fell.

The Roane are gentler cousins to the Selkies.  They aren’t as inclined to vengeance, and their magic is innate - they’re shapeshifters, like the Cait Sidhe, not skinshifters like the Selkies.  They’re also practically extinct.

Okay, so first off: Roooooossss I’m so sorry honey, you deserve so much better.  Second: that quote sure is a watered down version of the history between the Selkies/Roane, isn’t it!  That’s an interesting note about the Selkies being the more prone to vengeance than the Roane; given their history, you’d think it was the other way around.  Unless the vengeance thing was something that changed about the Selkies in later books? We’ve met a few Selkies now; I don’t think I’d say any of them are prone to vengeance.  (Now, if Toby had said the Merrow are prone to vengeance, I would believe it 100%)

And Tybalt’s second time saving Toby’s life!  He’s catching on quick; I’m impressed.

Tybalt killing the Redcap leaves me with a lot of questions - that seems like a very clear violation of Oberon’s law, but no one mentions that?  I know that Oberon declared that the Cait Sidhe ruled over themselves, with no interference from the Divided Courts, so Cait Sidhe killing each other for succession reasons is okay, but surely killing a member of the Divided Courts is a huge no-no?  Unless Redcaps aren’t part of the Divided Courts?  Or the Redcap being an assassin meant that he’d violated Oberon’s law, so whoever killed him would’ve been justified and it wouldn’t be considered a violation?

Tybalt and Toby’s conversation after the Redcap is very... tender, almost?  He’s being very gentle with her - and Tybalt admitting that he’d been waiting for her to leave because he wanted to make sure Toby was okay, and Toby thinking ‘oh, it’s just because of our agreement’ is probably the first time I went ‘really, Toby?  Really?’

So, Toby mentioned Tybalt and Evening’s relationship to each other earlier in the book, but I’m actually more interested in Tybalt and Lily’s relationship - how did they even meet?  Was it just because of Julie, or have they known each other for longer?  They seem to hold a lot of respect for each other, which is a little surprising considering they’re a cat and a water spirit.  Tybalt knows how to enter into Lily’s domain; has he visited before?

I turned back to glare at him.  “Don’t you care?”  I demanded, gesturing toward them.  “I care more than you’ll give me credit for.”

saldfjsdlkjfsdfj  there’s something about that line that just hits me, but I can’t figure out a way to really articulate it.

That’s it for this recap!  As always, feel free to come talk to me about things!

#October Daye #Rosemary and Rue #ReRead Project

[roccomoon]

chicago wind

my uncle jonny has died. “transitioned to non physical”, as my spiritual los angelian context provides.

my dads little brother, who had the same birthday as me, july 22.

i feel most emotional when i notice how little i knew the man. how we only had a few conversations that went deeper than the surface. and the last one was in 2013. at my brother fleetwoods wedding.

it was in new york city on a rooftop with a view of the hudson river. everyone looked sharp and dashing. i had just taken a picture with my aunt kathy and cousin rachel.

the wine in my system allowed a bit more social engagement than normal, and i walked to my father’s brother, my uncle john and spoke.

i don’t remember how it all came up at first. but before i knew it we were discussing depression, suicide, and how being near my dad seemed to just push you to your edge, and show you what you were really made of.

he told me something i hadn’t known prior to that conversation, that he was on the road with my dad in the early days, helping in a variety of ways, ultimately as a roadie, mostly as muscle and various handy work.

he expressed to me, his nephew, the son of his brother, how it wore on him. how being next to ted nugent, who was your brother, who was the star, who was a soul on fire for the world to see with his shit more together than anybody around that they knew personally.

i mentioned how he started getting depressed and leaned into drugs attempting to not just escape, but cope with the vulnerable reality my father seemed to mirror back to us all: that life was a savage animal sometimes, and living your most outrageously intense version of life possible sometimes was the best medicine.

i remember how he spoke of my dad that night. he spoke of him like he was the big brother of folklore, that no matter what u did as little brother, there would simply never be a time where u got him in that oh so coveted head lock.

i could relate a bit, as my brother tobias was the image i strived for throughout my younger years. he was the exemplary athlete, articulate, witty, hilariously funny, and sharp. which interestingly enough, he too ended up on tour with my dad, not as a roadie per say, but a servant to the buffalo chief nonetheless.

i noticed a theme, a motif, an underlying current of symmetry that was speaking to my intuitive faculties.

my father, theodore, was, and still is, no holds bar, the most intensely involved person i’ve ever met. involved and engaged in their life and the passions that call one forth to bliss, joy, courage, stamina, fortitude, ass-kicking, justice, and all things awesome, which must be subjectively identified by each soul.

,

i’m sitting on this train, heading to downtown chicago to meet up with my family, to then later meet up with more family, and i’m sure we’re all going to be crying about uncle johnny.

even now as i get back to the point while watching my thumbs dance on the glass of my iphone X, the screen of my reality becomes blurred with tears.

what the fuck is happening to us all. we birth. we live. we exist. we die. and what happens along the way?

i could elaborate on my rather precise understanding of the precision of a souls journey through the octaves and densities of consciousness, but i won’t. as 2019 showed me the mirror of what spiritual bypassing is.

but that’s why i gravitated towards the esoteric and occult to begin with. manly hall. krishnamurti. finally yoga made sense of it all. the old texts elaborated on what i never got from the bible. the process of why we manifest here as a body. but i won’t go into all that now. as it feels it would be a way of sidestepping some of the emotions that are actually here as a gift.

the gift of being human. that cannot be read in any book or received as advice or insight from any other person or reference point. it is to be lived. first person. first hand. by us. through us.... sometimes more easily than others .. but that contrast is such a ferocious poetry. such a gift. in all its mud and guts and tears and blood and pain and confusion and longing and remembering and ... life.

i can’t help but notice the gift that we all are to each other. the gift of life. of living our own life and how that effects all those around us. the way we walk our walk is noticed. is felt. is seen. even when we don’t see it.

my eyes vibrated liquid while reading a blog my dad wrote about his dear brother john. he gushed appreciation and love for all the ways his brother lit him up. i tremored at seeing the words “good bye” on the screen. and realized this will happen to us all at some point. no one gets out alive, as i’ve heard it said.

this all makes me more present to the preciousness of life. to the impermanence that carries the wind from tree to tree, blowing the loosened leaves away from branches.

we only have this. now. here. and it makes me want to spend more time with family. call those who i haven’t spoken with in some time. actively cherish, not passively. not passively witness the fleeting connections dissipate. but engage. involve.

and knowing i cannot live anyone else’s journey for them, i am reminded i have my own to live. to be present with. to be precious with. to cherish each inhale and exhale. each day i awaken. to be with it all and not miss a single moment of the most amazing story i could possibly imagine.

there are things that set my soul on fire, that i can run towards or away from. it all requires discipline and focus. matter warps where i place my attention. especially for sustained periods of time. i can’t secure anyone else oxygen mask if i’m passed out.

to do this, i’ve been shown, is to miss out on nothing. to be so actively involved with this beautiful multi dimensional interactive mural that i never long to be someone else, or have someone else’s life. cuz this one is too amazing.

to lose family is to gain family in some strange way. i feel my uncles passing is bringing us all closer together. fanatic in hugging and remembering the fragile nature of this waking state and it’s ability to be, poof, gone in a flash.

and so,

i exit this train into the brisk january winter of the midwest, my tear ducks tantalized and ready to flush. my heart wide open, vulnerable and pulsing. my skin dry, brittle, and made to feel more brittle in this chicagoan wind. my mind concentrated on that which is most precious: life itself. and in this close proximity to my existence and sense of social identity, family.

r,

[ohheygriefsucks]

On Tuesday, my paternal grandmother “Baba” passed away. She was just one week shy of 94. She passed peacefully in her chair at her nursing home. She wasn’t sick, she was happy, and she lived a very, very full life. 94 years is a LONG time. If I were to live 94 years, it would mean I’d have to live as long as I already have two more times. Christ that sounds exhausting. But if I do, remind me to reblog this in 2082. It’ll be super timely. We’ll all say “wow”.

I’m having a lot of issues processing this loss. I have conflicting feelings, and keep catching myself lining things up with the loss of my mom. 

First off, it’s weird. Really weird. At 29 to feel like you have to walk your dad through losing his mom because you did before he did. Up until Tuesday, my dad didn’t know what it was like. I’m aware that the situations are wildly different, but I was taken aback by this weird protective feeling that overcame me. It wasn’t my loss, it was his. He was the one who would need tending to. 

A big thing I’m dealing with right now is that I’m not that sad and don’t think I should be. That makes me sound cynical and cold, but, what is there to be sad about when a person lives a happy, fully, life, and passes painlessly? I will miss her. To imply that we somehow deserved more time (which is what I’m feeling like I should feel) just doesn’t make sense. The mission was successful. The world bettered by her presence. 

I leave early, painfully early tomorrow for Ohio for the funeral. I’m not working at the moment, so I wasn’t planning to go, and was sure everyone would understand. I wasn’t that conflicted by it. I’m not financially able to buy last minute airfare right now. My Baba washed and reused ice cubes. She’d get it.

But then, Wednesday morning, my dad called me and told me to book a flight and he’d reimburse me. It was an order, not a question. And I started to freak out. And I have been doing so on and off since then. I’m going to try and articulate the faux psychological findings I’ve identified after spending so much time in my head. 

So far, here’s what I know is bothering me, and maybe why:

- Last minute travel (not by choice) freaks me the fuck out. Why? Because the last and only time I’ve ever had to do it was to rush home to Texas because my mom was dying. I realized today that I’m leaving just as early tomorrow as I did when I left Chicago for Texas in 2013. 

- Early morning flights stress me out: This one isn’t mom related, but I nearly missed my outgoing flight the last time I had to fly out of LAX and I had a horrible panic attack on the airplane and it was horrific and I’m afraid I’ll have another panic attack this time. I shouldn’t worry about this. I have my xanax rx for that very reason. I shouldn’t feel guilty for utilizing modern medicine that will safely help me feel better.

- Traveling during cold and flu season freaks me out. Why? Well because I am a hypochondriatic germo and emitophobe. The thought of catching a bug while traveling and being sick away from home sends me reeling into anxiety, which in turn makes me feel sick, etc. etc. I bought anti-bacterial Wet Ones and Travel Clorox Wipes. I have Emergen-c in my bag. I got my flu shot.

- I wasn’t extremely close to my grandma, because we moved around so much. I loved her. But I don’t want to feel like I’m co-opting any grief/sadness from my cousins who spent much more time with her as they lived just down the street. I feel like an impostor. I also feel like a bad grandkid because I wasn’t as close to her as my cousins.

- There will be drama that I don’t want to deal with. My dad’s family is pretty small. Three kids, eight grandkids. The grandkids are split 4/4 between 2 of the three kids. There’s not much room to disappear to. There are a lot of potentially volatile situations that could arise. There’s a lot of tension and broken relationships that have been cut off for personal well being. I feel like I’ve worked hard to make choices about distancing myself from things like this and I’m angry that I’m being thrown into a situation that I don’t want to be in the middle of.

- This is a weird one, but I’m stressed/weirded out because my mom took a trip with my dad and little sister to Ohio this time of year the year that she died. It was her first/only time flying with oxygen and I remember the trip was rough on her. She had just started using a cane. We’re staying at the same hotel.

- Sunday would be my parents’ 41st wedding anniversary. We’ll be at the viewing all day. I’m not angry about that, it just makes me a little sad.

- I don’t want to see my grandma’s dead body. I don’t want to spend hours in a funeral home staring at her. This one is big. And causing me a lot of guilt. I don’t spend a lot of time around really old people. Since my mom died, it’s been weirdly hard for me to not resent old people simply for being alive old people. It’s awful. It’s all surface stuff. But, something struck me deeper while I thought. The time I spent sitting next to my mother’s body after she passed while we waited for my little sister to get home from Austin was sacred to me. She was still my mom. The brief time we had a family viewing of her before she was cremated was sacred. I didn’t like it, particularly. It didn’t feel like her. She looked fine, but wrong. She was dressed beautifully. A dress she had picked out. I don’t think I want to have that experience with anyone else right now. I don’t want it to be one of many. I don’t want to devalue my past. 

- This will only be my third funeral. The first with an actual body present. The only one not too early and due to cancer. I don’t know how to do grief when it’s just nature taking it’s course.

-Having a maternal figure pass away just keeps sending me back to my mom dying. I know this is selfish. I hate myself for managing to make everything about me, but I also need to acknowledge the level of PTSD that my mom’s passing has caused. Logically, I know I shouldn’t feel bad about this. That it makes sense that something relative would bring up relatable memories. It’s just exhausting and overwhelming.

Well there you go. There’s my mind and soul over the past four days chucked up for you. I feel better. So there’s that.

[bitchfromtheseventhhell]

“which one are you again?” 

“aegon, aunt.”

she looks at him with blank eyes--violet irises with pupils gone pale with age, searching through his face as if unable to articulate the question.

“maekar’s son, who was your cousin daeron’s fourth son.”

a smile cracked across her old face.  “aegon.  of course.  i thought.  but no.  no that would have been years before, and he never named a son after himself.”  

“no, he didn’t, aunt,” aegon agreed, knowing she meant her cousin aegon the unworthy.  she was old--older than anyone else in the palace, or so it seemed.  

“i went to your wedding,” she said.  “to the blackwood girl.  not missy, though she looked rather like her.  what was her name?”

“betha,” aegon says.  

“betha.  yes.  betha.  not bethany.  she was a bracken, and older besides.  how many years ago was that?”

“thirteen.”

“thirteen.  i was positively young then, wasn’t i?  how old was i?”

“we were wed just after your seventieth name day.”

“seventy and then thirteen.  so that would make me eighty three.  gods i had not thought to live this long.  daena died before thirty, and i can still remember her face...and would you know? i used to be able,” she waved a gnarled finger in the air, “i’d once have been able to do that math in my head.  seventy plus thirteen is eighty three.  yes.   but i fade.  that’s age.  fading eyes, fading wits, fading memory.” she looked at him again with those pale eyes.  “aegon.  son of maekar, son of daeron my dear beloved cousin.  i loved him.”

“i know, aunt,” aegon says.

“and you had a little sister.  rhae, was it?”

“rhae and daella.  two of them.”

“yes, but rhae was the one who was frightened of me. i heard her telling your father so once.  didn’t want to wish me a happy name day.”

aegon blinked, and almost laughed.  “i’d forgotten that.”

“i suppose there’s something left in this old mind,” cackled elaena targaryen.  “she was a sweet girl.  afraid of getting old.  that’s youth for you.  afraid of all the wrong things.”

she gave him a significant look and he felt a chill go up his spine.  if rhae had been afraid of aunt elaena because she was old, aegon had always been nervous about her because somehow she always managed to--

“i raised seven children,” she said, patting his arm.  “but you weren’t one of them.  i know when you’re frightened.  you only ever come find me when you’re frightened.”

aegon swallowed.  

“if you wait much longer to spit it out, i may die,” she japed and aegon felt his mouth open in surprise.  how rarely did he speak with her these days that those words would surprise him?  he knew she had a cutting tongue, and spoke her mind.  betha had liked her very well in the early days at court, before their children, before she’d begun to make friends, before elaena had grown too old to easily make her way across the red keep to take tea with her.  and now she barely remembers betha...a face in a sea of people over a long life, i suppose.  he would tell betha to visit her when he was done.  if you wait much longer to spit it out, i may die.

“aunt elaena, what if they make me king?”

elaena targaryen frowned.  “you have older brothers.”

“aerion is dead, and aemon wears a maester’s chain.  he did not say if he would put it aside for the crown.  what if he doesn’t.  what if i’m to be king?  i don’t want to be king.”

“good.”

“what?”

“no man in his right mind should want to be a king.”

that made aegon smile, though he couldn’t say he was amused.  

“if they make you king, they make you king.  it’s an unfortunate thing--most kings don’t decide to be king.  it happens to them.  you’ll be part of that grand tradition.”

“yes but...but i’m not prepared.  i was supposed to be a knight of the kingsguard.”

“and now you’re married with heirs and next in line for the throne after your brother who has none but you.”

aegon swallowed.  “yes,” he said, his voice the uncomfortable midway point between a whisper and a murmur.  

“what?  speak up, boy.”  

he cleared his throat.  “yes, aunt.”

“that’s a good thing to be afraid of.  kingship and your first foray of fatherhood.  that was the last time, you know.”

“the last time what?”

“the last time you came to me frightened.  i remember now.” she was smiling and there were gaps between some teeth where others had fallen from her gums.  she seemed less addled as if she were able to pull the world together around her despite being barely able to see and hear.  did she remember?  or did she just guess--correctly--that as betha had taken to her birthing bed, aegon had gone to find his aunt who had born seven children, since his own mother and grandmother were long dead.  “fear’s a good sign,” she continued.  “a sign you’re not stupid.  neither mad nor stupid.  a good start to a reign.”

aegon tried to laugh.

“what if i am bad at it?  what if i’m worse than aegon the unworthy and all the kingdoms spit upon my memory?”

“don’t worry about that.  you’ll be dead,” elaena said dryly.  “why do men always worry about how they’ll be remembered?  i’ve never understood.  daeron and conquering dorne, baelor and his sept, aegon and his manhood...daeron was the only one with a head on his shoulder and he was called daeron the good because of it.  aim for that.  or aim for no one remembering you so they’ll remember how odd it was you made it to your throne to begin with, youngest son of a youngest son that you are.”

“yes, but--”

“no.  no buts.  don’t worry about how the histories will write you.  someone will always hate some king or another.  that’s how it goes.  do good.  be good.  serve.  that’s what it is to be king--serving.  some kings think it’s the other way around but they’re wrong.  don’t be that arrogant, or you shan’t be a very good one. and you’re neither mad nor stupid.  you have that as an advantage already.  don’t squander it.”

“yes aunt,” aegon said.  she made it sound so very easy, but that had always been aunt elaena.  even when he’d been a boy, the way she’d spoken about the crown’s accounts, the kingdoms’ economy as though it were something even a child could master...how stunning she was.  he’d only begun to realize as she’d grown too old and her mind had begun to fade.

“you won’t be alone,” she added.  “you’ve your ser duncan to help keep your head on properly.  and me so long as i’m alive, but you and i both know i shan’t last forever.  and i’m sure betha will have her opinions.  she’s always had them.  it’s what i liked about her to begin with.”

“oh, i imagine her opinions won’t be going anywhere,” aegon laughed, though he didn’t truly feel humored.  “but it all feels...well it’s no matter.  perhaps aemon will shed his chain.”

“you and i both know he won’t,” elaena said, and her voice cut through the room, and aegon stiffened.  “that boy’s headstrong.  all of maekar’s boys were.  comes from maekar himself, and dyanna.  she was a stubborn one too.  just like betha.  he gave his word when he forged his chain and put aside his name.  that’ll be that.  you’ll be the next king.  best to prepare yourself for that now.”

aegon took a deep breath.  she was right of course.  he remembered his grandfather saying something like that once.  “always listen to elaena.  she’s always right.”

they sat quietly for a time, and aegon staring vaguely out of the window. king aegon.  aegon the fifth.  aegon the unlikely.  that’s how he’d be remembered, he was sure of it.  youngest son of a youngest son.  why do men always worry about how they’ll be remembered?

he heard a shuffling snore.

he glanced back at aunt elaena.  her head had rolled forward and her pale eyes were closed and she had fallen asleep.  aegon got to his feet and found a woolen wrap and wrapped it gently around her.  she was old.  he dreaded that she would catch a cold.

#gotfic #elaena targaryen #aegon v targaryen #HI I'M HERE FOR REALLY OLD ELAENA BEING STILL ALIVE FOR THIS #KNOWING GRRM SHE PROBABLY DEAD >:( #BUT UNTIL HE SAYS IT THIS IS CANON K? #KEWL #1h

[leaveharmony]

@nimmenstjer Ah...not really?  My father whom I prefer not to call that at all, is not a good man. 

Cut for...I mean it's not as bad as it could be or even as bad as it may still get, but, some of it might be familiar for people who've had (emotionally/mentally) abusive parents and thus upsetting.  Also, laments about his vicious bigot streak.

To begin with, he's a bigot.  This was less clear and blatant before their grand high wizard took the white house, because he's also that special variety of Trump supporter that has him swallowing lies hook line & sinker; this idiot honestly hand-on-heart believes the mayor of San Juan is “trying to make the administration look bad” by begging assistance for her dying people. He used to operate under a more lowkey bumbling fool level of bigotry which would see him make awful “jokes,” spurt gibberish at me and laugh about it whenever I brought home Japanese food, occasionally go on a profanity-laced tirade when he was having trouble hooking up a minifridge made in China...etc.  it was always unacceptable but easy to...not dismiss, but....it's tricky to articulate.  I always hated it but I thought he was merely fucking stupid, at the time - and you might actually make more progress arguing with a rock, which might have some capacity for intelligent thought.  And don't get me wrong, he IS fucking stupid, holy shit is he ever fucking stupid.   But since Trump announced his candidacy and everybody laughed about it (I never, ever laughed about it) he's been 100x worse because now he sincerely believes that the vile shit spewing out of that walking asshole is what ~everybody secretly believes~ and that anybody who gets upset about it is just performing outrage...pretending to be mad when they're really just as foul, but want to look better than other people. The extent of this didn't become apparent until it really came clear that Trump had a chance.  I was asleep, as is my custom wearing earplugs, but a noise woke me.  With my earplugs in I couldn't figure out what it was at first, so I got up and listened close to my door with the earplugs still in and the first thing I heard was “YOU TELL ME WHAT OBAMA DID!” He'd been pontificating about how Trump had just as much experience as Obama had when it came to ‘being president’ before he took the job, and mum, god love her, this time she tried to very gently explain that the moron had no political experience at all, and he just blew up at her.   Like, my earplugs shave about 30 decibels off and he was yelling so loud that he woke me out of REM sleep on the other side of the house, behind a door and a wall.  Mum, she later confessed, was terrified.  Hell, I was terrified - I was just paralyzed there, frozen at the door and wondering if he was gonna hit her this time and what should I do, would going out there antagonize him further or shake him out of it?

He's always been abusive.  And I've always been afraid of him in a vague way, probably since the one time he did actually hit me as a child (I don't remember what for, only that it taught me that resistance would lead to violence disguised as discipline).  But this was the first time he really made me afraid of what he was capable of if he lost his temper hard enough.

It's usually little things, though, over years. I remember when my brother and I were kids and we all had the big family dinner at grandma's, we had to act totally calm and reserved when opening presents.  This was because dad's brother's kids, my cousins Shawn and Kristina, would tear around like...well, children on christmas...being boisterous and loud and tearing the paper and goofing off.  We had to go slowly and have muted reactions and most importantly, be quiet about it, so that he could prove to his brother that even if we were poorer and he didn't have as good a job or as big a house, that his kids were 'better' and so he was still winning. He shut my wrist in the car door in the parking lot at Zellers, once.   Total accident,  but I couldn't get it out and the door had locked (this was when you actually had to unlock the door manually with a key) and so I panicked and screamed, and so while my wrist was caught in the car door and I was screaming in terror, he was simultaneously yelling at me to be quiet because I was making a scene. Another time when we were camping, I woke up with the most intense pain I'd ever experienced, in my ear.  I thought I was dying, that was how bad it was, and I was crying and begging him to take me to a doctor and he was yelling at me to shut the fuck up and go back to sleep because the other campers might hear me. When he dragged us to this house and my brother got a hampster, he put its cage on the dresser right up against the wall my bed is against...this is why I wear earplugs to this day, because the hampster would be up all night running on its wheel directly next to my head and rather than asking my brother to move the cage, I was shouted down and had to resort to sleeping with earplugs in. To this day I find it very difficult to make noise, or verbally display enthusiasm, or feel like I'm genuinely displaying proportionate gratitude, because I've internalized my training to such a degree that I'm always policing my own reactions (the literal only exception to this was when I was In the Presence Of Nakamura at Takeover and the racists behind me pissed me off so bad that I actually joined in on the chants for him and Asuka just to try to drown them out).  It’s the ultimate shame to let anybody catch me crying, I can’t...I’m not allowed to, I’m not allowed.  I’m not allowed to be angry and I’m not allowed to be sad or upset.

And I can’t...I don’t get mad at them or anything but I have to carry earplugs with me whenever I go out because children crying or screaming or making noise just sets me right off, like 0-60 in no time at all, it’s like a trigger and I have to shut the noise out, I have to plug my ears and get as far away as I can, it upsets me on levels I can’t even begin to articulate.  That one’s...gonna take some unpacking if I ever get out of here alive.

I've developed hoarding tendencies because of all the times he's thrown away, sold or destroyed my property the second I let it out of my signt.  He tossed my wooden clogs in the trash on pickup day when I was in elementary school, presumably because he didn't like the noise they made...I loved those things, but no longer remember what they looked like.  He sold my doll cradle to a lady at a garage sale for $5 while I literally sobbed and begged him not to.  He moved my Jericho standee out to the garage even as I fiercely protested (as much as I dared) because I thought he'd end up throwing it away; not only did he throw it away, but he cut it into pieces and hauled it to the dump, didn't even tell me about it until I went out to get it (he was clearing out the garage and it suddenly occurred to me to move it).  Of course he yelled, when I started to cry.  Laughed about it the next day like it was the funniest thing he'd ever done.  He wouldn't turn around to go look for my Stormer doll when I left her at a campsite...we hadn't even left the park yet, but he wouldn't turn around...I don't remember what she looked like, either, her loss completely eclipsed all memories that preceded it.  ...it was so upsetting that I still catch myself thinking of it as “When Stormer died” rather than “when I lost my doll.”  And then I feel stupid because it was just a doll, they were just things.  I care too much about my things, that have never hurt me, always listen, don’t yell.  It’s one of those unhealthy coping things, I guess.  Stupid.  I built lil-Shin a shoebox house.

So I'm hyper paranoid about anybody being in my space or leaving anything laying around, anybody touching my things.  Cos the second I let my guard down he might go on another raid and I'll lose something I can never replace, so everything, everything is in here.

I remember one time we went to a ballgame and my mother took ill...she literally threw up in a trash can outside Skydome, I can still remember exactly how she looked because her face was just grey, and I thought she was gonna die, and he was just shouting at her like she was faking it to spite him. When we went go Halifax I felt faint on the boardwalk and asked to sit down and have some water and he blew up, calling me Your Highness and and ingrate  and a whiner...again, like I was overstating it or putting it on just to antagonize him or try to trick him.

He comments on everything we eat.  I can't put food in my mouth in his presence without him saying 'eating again' or 'stuffing your face' or making glutton noises....at the same time, he'll finish his own food and then take some of ours.  Anything mum buys for herself, he'll take it. He literally steals from her, he's gone in her purse and taken money.

He polices me right down to the expression on my face..if I don't maintain a mask on the positive side of neutral I've got an 'attitude' and I've got to 'learn some gratitude'

He tells us to 'settle down' if we laugh too loud at something and we're 'stick in the mud' if we don't display enough amusement at something he finds funny.

And that MOTHERFUCKING WOMAN he's been ferrying around....jfc.  About four or maybe even five years ago he started driving this fucking woman he worked with, Joanna, back and forth to work.  I don't mean she lives a block away and they carpooled, I mean, she lives a half hour away in another city and he started driving to Barrie to pick her up, then back here to work, and then the whole thing in reverse again after they were done at work.  He's brought this woman's broken appliances here to try and fix them.  He's helped her move, he's been at her beck and call, he's literally chosen to drive a half hour away to take her to fucking Wal-Mart rather than drive his own wife to the doctor's office.  The real kicker is she's a polish immigrant - and we “don't know how hard she has it.”  Because he can sympathize with them as long as they're white blonde ladies, of course.  I'd think they were fucking if he wasn't repulsive, more likely she knew a sucker when she saw him coming.  He's currently storing her completely inoperable SUV in our fucking garage (the same one that didn't have room for my Jericho standee, hanging on the goddamn wall) because her landlord told her to get rid of it.  He said, one or two weeks, two months ago.  His own not-even-paid-for car is sitting out in the driveway, reeking of cigarettes because he lets her smoke when he drives her.  The urge to pay some kid to heave a rock through his windshield is almost overwhelming...I kick the side of that fucking SUV every time I go in the garage.

I hate him more than I've ever hated anyone in my entire life, and I'm utterly broken from decades of walking on eggshells, enduring the abuse, surviving.  We're trapped here with him because we simply can't survive financially otherwise.  It's like living at the corner of a spiderweb and trying not to move suddenly enough to trigger a reaction from the spider. I'm tense....all the time.  All the time.  My Daryl tattoo will featuring him floating gently in the ether, carrying a banner that says ‘Tranquilo’ not out of any great love of Naito, but as a reminder that constantly tensing my shoulders is prolonging my injury rehab and I need to try and relax.

It's not as bad as it could be.  I should be grateful it isn't. Mostly I just quietly wish he'd die, and then feel guilty about it.

#abuse cw #a messy lil cross section of my personal hell sorry

[lcncasters-blog]

hey everyone!!! i’m d, i’m 23, and i use they/them pronouns. super hyped about being here so i’ma just get right into it

so kai is my fave character and kinda notoriously The Worst while also being The Best, so i’m warning y’all before we even go in that he’s actually so sloppy and wild pls proceed w/ caution. i’ve been playing him for over 4 years. that being said, he does have a fuck ton of information, so while the bullet points are going to be as condensed as i can possibly make them, you should really check out the appearance section (or you can just look at my sidebar which is wonderful artwork of kai one of my close friends did for me --- give them love on their art blog nialls ok SO talented) of his STATS FRAMEWORK and then if you really hate yourself i have a DEVELOPMENT TAG too with a bunch of headcanons (feel free to RB the rebloggable ones from me btw)

LOUIS TOMLINSON? no ⏤ KAI LANCASTER, the DEMIBOY is TWENTY-THREE and was born with a GOLD soul, and now has a GREY soul. i would describe HIM/THEM as EXUBERANT + BRAVE, yet CARELESS + IMPATIENT. KAI spends HIS/THEIR time PLAYING AT SMALL VENUES WITH HIS ALT ROCK BAND AND WORKING AS A NANNY and has lived in seattle for TWO YEARS.

TW FOR TERMINAL ILLNESS/CANCER, SUBSTANCE ABUSE MENTIONS, ABLEISM, & MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM/SUICIDE.

kai was born a gold soul into a pretty posh, old-money typea family in manchester, uk. like i’m talking on his mothers side they’re all doctors, lawyers, scholars, etc, etc, and on his dad’s side entrepeneurs. his parents themselves built a fairly large business from the ground up together that now goes by the name of lancaster industries. their current biggest venture and pretty much what they’ve built the whole of their fortune on is a chain of luxury hotels that you can find basically in every major city in the world.

he had 3 younger sisters who he essentially raised considering his parents were too busy to be around during their childhood. only two of them are still living, his youngest sister having passed a couple years ago at the age of 7 from leukemia.

his mother is literally the devil? kai always hated school/struggled in it for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which were his not diagnosed adhd and his dyslexia, which he never got the help he probably needed for. he’s always kinda just thought he was extremely stupid, and that idea was reinforced by the way his mother always used to tell him the very same thing. “think harder, kai. use your brain.” is a phrase that’s essentially been reinforced so many times in his head, he p much hears her voice ringing in his ears every time he gets so much as vaguely confused now.

that being said, despite how he struggled in school, he was always a very vibrant, kind, charismatic, and magnetic young person. he tends to draw people into him with his silly nature and upbeat attitude, and he’s kind of the Eternal Optimist, so he was fairly popular when he was attending. to say he has eccentricities would be putting it lightly, and he’s loud, never seeming to run out of things to say or fail to command the interest of the room.

anyway things with his mum only got worse in his relationship with her when he barely managed to complete his a levels by the skin of his teeth (and with an absurd amount of tutoring), and then refused to go to the university of her choosing. she p much wanted him to “get his shit together” so he could take over the family business someday, but i am not kidding when i say kai would wilt away and probably legit just die if he had to work in a place like that forever – and that’s assuming he even got through business school in the first place.

his father was always a push-over and sort of was absent/bent to her will when he was around, so he didn’t bother to defend kai when his mother decided 2 cut him off from everything and essentially ex-communicate him once she realised he was refusing 2 be manipulated and forced into shit anymore.

that was at age 18, and by that point he had plans to move out and travel to london with his best mate anyway, so he was basically like “peace out” and got the hell out of dodge. he still harbours a lot of guilt for abandoning his younger sisters, particularly so considering his youngest one fell ill so soon after his departure.

he lives, breathes, and sleeps piano. music as a whole is something he’s passionate about, having taken the time to develop his somewhat unorthodox voice, but the way his fingers fly over the ivories is a living art form more than it is anything. it’s how he communicates, how he speaks his deepest truth and just like? put those feelings out there into the world that he otherwise wouldn’t be able to articulate in the common vernacular.

so what he wants to do with his life is to just? talk to people? through his music? to play for them and the be in front of a crowd every night and to feel the energy of them, to command them with his presence and to exist with them in that way. he almost gets high off of it? he’s been playing small shows since age nineteen with his band, but since he moved to america he obvi hasn’t had them and has been on his own.

SORRY I’M REALLY TRYING TO CONDENSE THIS so ok basically he was in love w this girl from the time they were 14. they lost their virginity 2 each other, they were on & off all through HS, & then through to age 20 after he moved away and all that. she was v v ill and struggled with mental illness and kai tried his best 2 take care of her, but he was always in over his head despite his dedication to like making her feel OKAY. she needed help that he could not give 2 her, and they ended up breaking up & him letting her go at the end. she died soon after that, and it remains unclear 2 him whether or not it was a suicide. it was officially ruled as an “accident”, but he knows different and yeah i mean. essentially like.... the most “smudges” on his soul kinda came from his sitch w her bc he was always coming and leaving and dropping her and returning when she needed him and like. he TRIED but he just COULDN’T? anyways

after that he got involved with this boy who was a substance abuser, addicted to H to b exact, and for a while he thought that he was getting better and they were building off of each other, building a healthy life together. the fact he called kai his “new addiction” was probably never a good thing, but kai didn’t recognize that at the time. they got engaged eventually, and kai was 100% convinced that he was the actual love of his life after caro. of course, in the end, it wasn’t built to last, and when it went bad, it went really bad. kai eventually felt like there was a chasm several miles deep between them, and he had no hope of getting to the other side again. he broke it off, broke the guy’s heart, and made his soul even darker.

THIS NEXT ONE IS KINDA AN OPTION CONNECTION OKAY SO IF ANY1 IS INTERESTED PLS PLS LMK!!!

kai has been posting vids on YT of him covering songs on his YouTube for like actual years, and when he was around 20 he met this person via the comments section on one of them. they seemed to be quite the fan of his interpretation of some of the songs he chose to play. they ended up talking more and more as time went on, exchanging contact information, and grew very very very close.

that was the start of the LDR that is what brought him to america/to seattle in the first place. they were together for about eight months and had seen each other in person three times for a total of about 3 weeks before he made the decision to get started on his visa and move to the states. the moment he was able to, he crossed the pond and moved in w them!!

strain on their relationship was created when at first kai was unable to find work and contribute to the bills and the household funds. they lived in a tiny flat, and going from barely seeing each other to having each other all at once and all the time was a lot. on top of that, kai was homesick and restless and felt trapped because that’s what kai does and it’s not okay and it’s totally wrong and he cheated on them soooo there’s another tick against his soul ig. within six months of his arrival, they broke up, and kai moved out.

he couch surfed w some friends he’d met 4 a while, and eventually found a decent paying job as a nanny for a well off family.

he plays live shows at small venues in bars/clubs and still seeks to make a living as a musician but it’s hard out there and plus his soul aint exactly the prettiest to look at any more. i mean he doesn’t have a DARK DARK grey soul, it’s more a lighter grey, not quite silver, but definitely not storm clouds.

he’s still working on getting his full citizenship though he’s v v v close 2 it & has been lowkey getting help from his cousin w paying for the process so!!

THAT’S BASICALLY IT

last but not least IM REALLY FUCKING SORRY  ICOULDN’T MAKE THIS SHORTER I JUST HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS AND fEELIGNSA

SEND ME AN IM OR LIKE IF YOU WANT TO PLOT!

#soulintro #i fucking hate myself

[kyuiuiuiu]

The Second Sun

I'm so sad, because I was drawing the fanart and my computer just stopped working. The screen is black and doesn't works... Fortunately, the progress was saved ;; but I'm not sure that I can upload fanarts according to the day during the week. Maybe I'll be late for it ;; Well, at least I have the fanfic for you! So here's the chapter 5 uwu

Chapter list:

Chapter 1 - The Distrust.

Chapter 2 - The Reflection.

Chapter 3 - The Fear.

Chapter 4 - The Lie.

Chapter 5 - The sun?

Days passed, turning into weeks, and Yoosung didn’t understand when everything had become so different. Each visit was colder than the previous one, and Saeran no longer responded as before. It was as if they had gone back to the beginning, where he only stared out the window and ignored his presence, even knowing he was there. Yoosung began to wonder what he could have done wrong to make it all turn that way, but he couldn’t find an answer. Only managed to associate it to that day when he began to talk about Rika and V, when Saeran asked about his career. Had that made him angry? Perhaps Seven was right that it was a tricky subject for him? If that was the case, then he understood that Saeran would get upset, though he didn’t think the change would be so abrupt.

What was happening hurt him a lot, especially since Saeran had become someone very important and special to him. He didn’t have many friends off screen, and for him, Saeran was that and much more. He was grateful that someone with his past had trusted an ordinary person like him. It was different from the friendship he had with Saeyoung. Saeran... made him feel more than that. By his side he felt that he could talk about anything and he would listen, even if he didn’t care about the subject. He noticed it, since he seemed to be an observant and attentive person from the beginning, despite his indifference.

Day after day of visits, he tried to keep the thread of the conversation going, but Saeran’s indifference made him want to see him carefully, waiting for him to turn to look him in the eye, as before... but this didn’t happen.

One day while Yoosung was trying to find a topic of conversation as he struggled with Saeran's rejection, Yoosung began to despair.

What could he do?

“You know... Maybe this doesn’t matter to you, but I don’t have many friends —He began to say—. When I went to school it was different, there I was quite popular, but after entering the university everything changed... I wanted to change my image, and I even found a hobby that is LOLOL... I... I haven’t said this to anyone else, but the truth is that I feel so envious of people like you. Jumin, Zen, Jaehee, Seven, Rika, even V... and you too —His voice cracked a little, causing Saeran to turn to him slyly after weeks of pretending to ignore him. Then he noticed that Yoosung was doing his best to hold back a pout, it seemed that he was about to cry—. I am just an ordinary person, without grace. I don’t have great talents beyond playing all day. If it wasn’t for the university, I would be a total slacker... It hurts a lot to think that you are good for nothing, that you will never reach those you admire no matter how hard you try. And it hurts even more when the one you want to reach insists on steadily getting away from you. I... Ah, I don’t know what I do saying all this, I must be making a fool of myself” He finished saying, covering his face with both hands.

He really felt he was making a fool of himself, but just when he was going to resign himself and run, a presence alerted him.

He removed his hands from his face, and could see that Saeran was only inches away. He gasped, because he didn’t even notice when he got out of bed and crouched in front of him.

What a bad day to sit on the floor and not the usual chair, huh?

His cheeks burned, his heart felt like it was coming out of his chest. Saeran's eyes were fixed on his again, after weeks of rejection.

What was happening?

“Ah...” he tried to articulate.

“You are not an ordinary person.”

“What are you saying...?” he murmured, looking away to the floor.

“In my opinion you are not an ordinary person. A normal person wouldn’t have insisted so much on me.”

“Is that... a compliment?” He asked himself.

Saeran sighed and returned to his place on the bed by the window, watching the sky. He knew that if he stayed much longer near Yoosung something could happen, although he couldn’t define exactly what.

What Yoosung made him feel was an indescribable for him, and after weeks of rejection he couldn’t stand it anymore. Again he hated his weakness and lack of courage, but he knew that sooner or later his punishment for being so pathetic would come, and that comforted him in a very particular way, although he didn’t stop worrying.

Yoosung, for his part, still had his face reddened by what had just happened. He tried to think of something else, but the image of the other boy's eyes so close to him was lingering in his mind. His heart was racing faster and faster, so he thought it would be a good idea to try to talk about something else to forget it or at least to distract himself.

“This… —He began to stutter— Why do you always look at the sky?”

The moment Saeran heard that question, his expression changed to one of nostalgia and some sadness, causing the blond to regret immediately for having let that doubt out of his mind. He thought it was very foolish of him to ask Saeran something like that, since he knew it was something he did insistently. It probably had to do with his painful past and he didn’t know... But to his surprise, Saeran left any negative thoughts aside and replied.

“When I see the sky, I feel free —He starts to explain—. There is no pain. Clouds always change its shapes, so it's also interesting to guess what they look like.”

Yoosung felt relief in his chest after Saeran answered his question, and inadvertently —And in the midst of emotion— he screwed it again.

“Oh, I see... Hehe, Rika used to watch the sun a lot after V died. It must be something similar...”

After realizing that he had begun to talk again about his cousin, he covered his mouth, but Saeran was sympathetic and followed the flow.

Deep down, he missed talking to him. Even if it was about her.

“Maybe… Why did she see the sun?”

Yoosung was puzzled by the sudden question, even more so with a question about his cousin. But since it was something that would not happen any often, he tried to remember everything Rika had told him about it.

“Well, Rika said... She said that V was like the sun.”

Saeran looked at him in confusion.

“V?”

“Yes —he nodded— that’s what she said. I remember that many times while we were talking, she mentioned that V was like the sun. She used to tell me that with him she felt safe, because she knew that in his company she could show her true self without fear. That he would accept her as she was... To her, V was the light of her life, radiant as the sun, bathing her with his warm soul and leading her way. I don’t understand very well what Rika was trying to tell me, but I always interpreted it as that he was a very good person with her... Well, Rika also said that I wouldn’t understand it until I tried it, hehe..."

When Yoosung finished explaining, Saeran was thoughtful about it.

The sun... radiant, warm, a light that guided your path. That made you feel sure to be who you really are, as it would always come to illuminate your life.

Saeran glanced up at the sky once more, then hid his head between his knees, which he held lightly.

Yoosung started to worry when he saw him act like that all of a sudden.

“Hey, do you feel bad? Do you want me to bring you something?”

Saeran turned his head so that only one of his eyes could see Yoosung.

“No, I'm fine. Just ... let's talk about something else.”

“Let’s talk…” Thought Yoosung with some excitement. Okay, they had been talking for a while, but it made him happy to think that everything would be back to normal.

“Okay” He murmured with a smile as he tried to think of some subject that might be of interest for him.

The afternoon passed just like it used to do be a few weeks ago when everything was fine. Sunset was already approaching, so Yoosung decided it was best to leave. He said goodbye as usual and retired in silence with a smile in his face.

After talking about the sun with Yoosung, Saeran couldn’t stop thinking about the subject. He felt suffocated by being in his room, so he got ready and left without his brother seeing him, because it was obvious that he would stop him. According to him, he was not yet able to go to the outside world.

Saeran could live with that, since he never felt the need to leave... but this time was different.

It was starting to get dark and Saeran was just wandering aimlessly down the street. He managed to reach a nearby park, where he looked for the most distant tree and sat by the foot of it. To his luck, it was surrounded by other trees, so it was a perfect hideaway.

The wind began to blow quite strongly, and Saeran supposed that it was due to recent climate changes. However, he didn’t give it more importance and continued there, leaning on the trunk with his eyes closed.

As Saeran tried to calm his mind, Saeyoung became aware of his absence and began to despair. The first thing he thought of was to call the only person with whom he had contact. He knew Yoosung would never take him without warning, but he wanted to make sure he was okay. Although, to his bad luck, the instant of answering the call and hearing the question, Yoosung replied immediately that his brother was not with him. Both began to worry, and then Yoosung offered his help to the older twin, which he accepted delightedly.

What worried Saeyoung the most was the latest weather report, where they had announced heavy rain during the evening.

Next Chapter »

#yooranweek #yooranweek day5 #yooranweek day 5 #yooran #yoosung #kim yoosung #saeran #saeran choi #saeyoung choi #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfic #fanfic #luciel choi #my art #yooran fanfic #saeran x yoosung #yoosung x saeran

[valgee]

416 Cigarettes

I walked out of that job; the second job I’ve flat fuckin walked away from because a corporate promotion was a way to get paid more to do more to get paid less to still do more. This aligned causally with an actual factual divorce, my own, I was spiraling down the familiar avenues of self-destruction and loathing in Las Vivas. 

I found inspiration in an old flame. She messaged me sweet music and abruptly left the conversation when I hollowly expounded on my future plans to move away with my spouse. The declaration felt empty; I realized that she in my shoes wouldn’t continue to be unhappy. That was the genesis of my resolve.

My grandmother was in the hospital again; my dad made it sound quite dire. I resolved to visit and then never return home once I was on the open road. Ocean Springs had become a broiling cesspot of bad emotions and confusion infused negativity. The literal plan was to drive forever, see every friend on the planet, run out of gas, and fling myself off the nearest bridge. What actually happened was 20 days of pure unadulterated traveling and freedom, 65 hours of road time, and 4,242 more lodged into my personal mileage.

The first stop was Obligation, I visited my ailing grandma who was more assailed by a macabre atmosphere centered around her inevitable death that she would prefer not to be constantly reminded of. It was my between my father and my Aunt Mae to take care of her, as her third and youngest child had eschewed responsibility in the wake of my grandfather’s death, who had been paying her to take care of grandma and “When mama dies, that’s when we’ll get the real money.” The iceberg of disgust was rearing from an ocean of contempt when my cousin and Aunt Mae addressed me sincere, for the first time, about my relationship with my father, or the lack thereof. In my two decades of visiting there, it had never been explicitly stated by any member of the family, at least not direct to me or my sister, about how my father had fought in court for partial custody, two weeks every summer, except we went for two months because it was a full half of our family. My sister and I never saw our dad during those two months, save for a few days at the beginning and end. Vindication was the sensation of Obligation, a rider to the discomfort so fine; we were all discovering the darker natures of each other amidst the cloud of deaths future and past. I found mine in a father estranged yet so much like myself, I don’t want to be him, I don’t want to become him. I was an excuse to escape his own Obligation, time spent with offspring was a rare chance. The irony was lost on him, that it was so rare of his own volition, and now sought rabidly as a superior solution to fomenting his mother’s wasting away with his candid appeals to activity that she sloughed off for the dishonesty it was. I sloughed off him, too, and escaped to my next destination after a terse visit.

I ran out of gas in Ohio. I trekked a mile to the nearest gas station that did not sell gas cans. In the adjoining Subway, in the bathroom, I made a friend who only came there to piss, as he told me, and I, too, came there to piss, but also pick grass out of my socks, accrued from the highwayside walkabout. As I set out to the next gas station, the bathroom man offered me a ride, promising me he had nothing but time. I acquired my can, I acquired my gas and he extended his offer  to drive me to my car. On the ride over, he told me his entire fuckin life story. He was a drug dealer from the podunk town in Ohio I was now in, he’d gone to Miama (Ohio) one weekend and come back with a kid, can you fuckin believe it, my baby mama only ever calls to fight or fuck and my girlfriend, who I’m livin with, hates that, you know? But Iunno, I’ll go over there and lay a line of coke down and she’ll, like, bend over, and rip it and back that ass up, she’s got a nice ass, you know? My girlfriend does, too, they got nice asses, Iunno. See, I like you, I can tell you anything and you don’t know shit, you don’t fuckin know anyone.

The second stop was Liberation, my dear friends Parla and Kelly in the Windy city I love. I rediscovered my Air element in the playful streets and inviting sunshine; this would be the last time I brought nice weather with me. I found Parla in a trend of bashful but passionate feminism but I was not yet shook of my tangled brain to connect with her genuinely, but I wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to qualify her validity to me, to me. She taught me macrame on a heated roof, we let strings dance in the wind. We laughed together in sopored stupor. I met her downstairs convenience bang, he brought me to his brazilian jujitsu class and I flattened myself for the experience. At first, he seemed threatened by me; he couldn’t fathom a masculine presenting presence having a dual platonic relationship with two attractive feminine presenting entities. He thought I had to banging one of ‘em. I couldn’t just be being friends. But we do. We are. I love them. We broed out with the irony lost on him; I struggle to relate my newfound gender identity to new people. I struggle to relate it to old friends who knew me before I knew me, but I felt as accepted as I ever was with them. Kelly came to me, drunker than she’d ever been, and cried in my lap. I wasn’t sure why she was upset, she couldn’t seem to articulate it or anything else, but I helped her into bed, glad I could be there for her. I may have overstayed my welcome, squatting in the daybed for a week, but I love that city. I reconnected with Roni and they gave me my highest highs, and my lowest lows, journeying to the highrise dance parties, and the basement bar belows. I left Chicago only with the promise of my closest friend to see next, my Water.

The third stop was Reconfiguration, I reconvened with the squidlord, TJ, and he opened his home to me fully and I could feel my soul reaching exponential bouts of healing here. I walked the streets of Perkasie, Pennsylvania, and garnered strange looks for my queer appearance. I got lost but I enjoyed it. He played hooky and took me to NYC where we see the Times Square, we Tai Chi in Central Park, and he misses his girlfriend’s texts. I am reminded of the spouse I left and the passive aggression for my identical transgressions. I ate street food, I poured out my entire romantic history to him as he strummed his ukelele. I didn’t mean to keep it so secret; our time together in college lent to a dual lifestyle: romantic and social were separate. I don’t know that he understands more now, but he knows more now; water struggles to perfectly reflect the shape and source of fire. Since the beginning of my trip, I had struggled with my break-up. In Chicago I had made peace, in Perkasie I found it. TJ, ever the empath, skirted the topic of suicide, and renewed his disdain for the exit. We listened to Listener, their newer work topical. I wanted him to reinvite me to live with him, but he didn’t. I left for my next destination, between NC and Chicago, my oldest internet friends implored me to visit, and given the week between opportunities to link up, I had gone to Perkasie. So, I carted off to Fort Wayne, Indiana.

My fourth destination was Sublimation, the subtlety, the transcendent, the phase change. I showed up late, and was greeted with first a soft intensity inside eyes. I descended into their basement and ensconced my weird ass in their wonderful family. Soothing cold fingers lightly brushed my heated skin as I imbibed the alcohol I’m super allergic to, to catch up with everyone else. I remember dancing, I remember thinking to be careful and respectful, she has a boyfriend, I remember dancing close enough to nudge once accidentally, and every subsequent wanton nudge was frivolously shameless. I don’t remember what happened next. I woke up, still drunk, and naked, in a bedroom I didn’t recognize. I regrouped and pissed and found my bearings, and she was there, her neck torn to shreds, a signature of mine reserved for my deepest drunken emotions. I haven’t done that to someone since I had my skeleton rended from my body, years ago. I didn’t remember, but the memory was there, buried in her earth, and I could feel it, and I do remember that next morning I spent digging for the memory with her again. And again and again. I almost made her late for work. I slept on the couch to shake off the drink and hangover, and awoke to dinner plans once she and her mother returned home from work. I was made conscious of my current unemployed status, and I wore the bruises she gave me on my neck defiantly. We talked about what happened without remorse. We flirted casually and lightly, hunting Pokemon with her family in their mammoth obsessed hometown. I tried to climb one at her behest, but I could feel my core trembling, my legs still weak. I had given her all of my fire. We returned home and made love again and again. There wasn’t single awkward silence in the immense amount of silence we shared, the intense longing eye contact we shared, the energy flowing between us that we shared. By this time, I had no money left to simultaneously feed myself and put gas in my car to make it home. I didn’t want to leave her, but I promised to return sooner than possible. I left with a heart beat I could hear again. I had forgotten what it was to fall in love with someone naturally and not try to force it for old times. My final destination was the only one planned before I left.

My fifth stop was Syncopation. My friend, Brandon, in Memphis, and his musical stylings. I arrived through the night, into the day, and met his improv friend on no sleep. I wrote for him in his journal, and he wrote for me. By this time I hadn’y paid my phone bill for a month and had no chance of doing so now. Without data, I couldn’t message Her without a wifi connection. It was a less than optimal situation; I feared giving the impression of nonchalance. Brandon played me a ballad, dedicated to me and my journey, and I rapped over it with an honest retelling of the Story So Far + Some Other Tangential Things. He lamented not recording it. I love things that live in moments. I spent one night and the next day. While he worked, I went with Shelby, his roommate, and also my old friend from college, to her place of work, the Memphis Zoo, where she got me in for free. I wandered the animals, and took in the sunshine. I saw a woman hit her head on a wall in the Nightmare room, but she was fine. I proceeded to get ultra lost in Memphis, and unable to connect to even Starbucks wifi. I navigated by touch and cavalier direction picking and arrived at his house. I was unable to access the inside, though a former lover of Shelby’s was sleeping off a hangover within. Brandon came home, let me in, and I played videogames and read until he came home. The ex eventually left, and Shelby broke down in tears, disgusted by the experience. The ex was an emotional vampire, and Shelby struggled to say no. She blamed herself for reasons she shouldn’t have, the ex took advantage of her and Brandon’s hospitality. I remember being good at the kind of honesty good here.. I felt for her, but I didn’t know yet how to show it again. I’m glad I could be there for her, though. I left that night and arrived in Ocean Springs, only falling asleep at the wheel 14 times. I crashed direct into my bed, a cool $0.14 over target to make it home, indicator on E, and slept for a long time. 

Over the last two weeks, I’ve done nothing but pine for someone in Indiana, and my life on the road. By tomorrow, I’ll have both back, if the road only for a little while. 

#me #journal #road trip