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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Taste of a Poison Paradise, Chapter 9 (Multi) - Joley

Chapter Summary: In the wake of Lemon’s outburst at the club, those closest to her process the fallout and realize something needs to be done before she spirals to the point of no return.

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“Okay, I think that’s the last box,” Juice remarked as she dropped herself down onto the couch. “So, why’d your cousin kick you out again?”

Lemon scoffed and rolled her eyes as she piled up the empty boxes. “She didn’t kick me out, we both decided it was time for me to move.” She decided her college friend-turned-roommate didn’t need to know about the argument she had with Rosé. And she certainly didn’t need to know that she’d rejected her ultimatum of, “if you want to stay here, you can’t keep getting drunk every day.” It had been a week since the incident at the club and she was going to recover from it on her own terms.

“Alright, cool,” she shrugged as she took out her phone and began aimlessly scrolling. “You wanna do something tonight?”

The blonde perched herself on the armrest of the couch, swinging her legs. “We could go to a club and get shitfaced,” she suggested.

Juice shook her head without looking up from her phone. “You can. I mean, I’ll totally go with you and turn shit up, but I don’t drink.”

“More for me.”

Her friend looked her over with a concerned expression, eyes finally pried away from the screen. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked gently. “I mean, I know you’ve been through a lot, have you considered talking to someone about it?”

Lemon shook her head. “I’m fine, I don’t have the emotional capacity for therapy.” She got back up and looked around. “Shit, I guess you don’t have any liquor in here then. I’ll be back,” and after putting her shoes on and grabbing her purse, she was out the door, leaving a concerned new roommate in her wake.

——

Rosé sighed as she passed the joint back to Mik. “This doesn’t make me a bad person, right? I mean the last thing I want to do is make Lemon’s issues about me. But god, that really is what made me realize that I have to do this.”

Mik shook her head as she took a hit. “It’s not your fault, you saw a trainwreck and realized you needed to keep your ass on the tracks.” She finished off the joint and put it out. “Listen, the last thing you wanna do is be that girl who pines over the person she’s sleeping with until it’s too late.”

“You’re right, I know. I’m gonna talk to her,” she exhaled deeply as she pushed herself up. “If Lemon comes around, please don’t have sex with her.”

“Oh fuck off,” she huffed, “that delayed her mental breakdown by at least a week.”

Rosé rolled her eyes as she left. She wasn’t mad at Mik for that, if anything maybe it did help Lemon temporarily by giving her a distraction. But she had so much more on her mind, things that have been brewing since the club incident.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she knocked on Denali’s door, evening out her breathing while she waited for her.

“Hey Rosie,” Denali smiled warmly as she opened the door, leading her inside and shutting it behind them. “What’s up? You usually text me when you’re on your way over.” They sat down on the couch as she spoke, a tinge of concern in her voice.

She swallowed thickly, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. “I know I’ve been distant lately with everything that’s been happening with Lemon. But through all the chaos, I realized something, that keeping your feelings bottled up is dangerous.” Another deep breath, this time she forced herself to look into Denali’s eyes, eyes that she found warmth and comfort in every time she gazed into them. “What I’m trying to say is that I have feelings for you. I don’t just wanna be fuck buddies, it’s not enough. I need all of you.”

Denali blinked, taking her time to process Rosé’s confession. At first it was pure surprise, but once she let it sink in, it clicked that she felt the same way, that she had been falling for her all along without realizing it. “You have all of me,” she told her, cupping her face and pressing a deep kiss to her lips.

In that moment, a weight lifted from Rosé’s chest. If only for the duration of a kiss, she could pretend nothing in the world existed outside of Denali’s apartment. She could stop thinking, stop worrying. It was only them, everything else faded to black. “Are we alone?” she asked against her lips.

“Mhm,” she nodded, a slight smirk tugging at her lips, able to fill in the blanks from there. Her hands traveled down Rosé’s body, tugging off her shirt in one swift motion, her own following suit, though they took their time undressing each other, letting their fingers and lips gently caress each other’s skin.

By the time they were both completely undressed, they had gotten each other thoroughly worked up. Rosé had Denali sit up on the couch, then got on her knees in front of her, pushing her thighs apart. She moved in between them, dragging her tongue along her pussy before circling, then sucking on her clit as she eased a finger into her.

Denali’s head lolled back to rest against the back of the couch, a pleased moan escaping. “Mm, Rosie…” she exhaled, her hips pushing up when Rosé slid in a second finger. “Baby, just like that, feels so good.”

She basked in the praise, continuing her movements, occasionally switching her tongue and her fingers, but never leaving her unattended. She was focused and fervent, bringing Denali to an orgasm as quickly as she could, as if she were setting it as a challenge to herself. Once she’d won her game, she pulled back with a smile, gazing up at her. “God, you’re beautiful.”

“And you’re sappy,” she teased affectionately, leaning down to kiss her. “Come on,” she got up and pulled Rosé to her feet, “we can cuddle until I gotta get ready for my shift.”

——

Nicky watched Jan with a concerned expression. She wished she knew what to do, how to talk to her and help her. Ever since the incident at the club, she had been quiet, withdrawn, two words she would never think to associate with the bubbly woman she loved so dearly. It killed her to see her girlfriend hurting, enough for her to put her aversion to emotional conversations aside as she sat beside her on the couch, gently taking her hand. “Please tell me what’s wrong. You haven’t been the same since what happened with Lemon and I’m worried about you.”

Jan chewed on her lip, her gaze downcast. Logically, she knew she couldn’t avoid this conversation forever, but it didn’t make it any easier. “Lemon is like a sister to me and I’m worried about her. I know what alcoholism looks like… and I know what it can do to someone, it’s not pretty.”

She furrowed her brows, shifting closer to the younger woman. “What do you mean?”

“Well, um…” she swallowed thickly, “my dad’s five years sober now, but it hit a nasty low before it got better. I-I don’t know what that low would be for Lemon, I’m afraid she’s hit it, but I’m even more afraid she hasn’t.”

Nicky nodded as she listened. She had suspected Lemon might have developed a bit of a drinking habit, but not the severity, and certainly not the effect it would have on Jan. “I am so sorry about your father, and about Lemon. Is there anything we can do?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “My dad went to rehab while I was away at college, but I imagine my mom laid down some ultimatums, but I don’t know if Lemon thinks she has anything left to lose.”

“There has to be some way, and I’m going to help you find it,” she promised.

——

“Thank you all for meeting me here,” Juice said as she looked around the two pushed-together tables in the diner. “For those of you who don’t know, my name is Julia - Juice - and Lemon moved in with me about four days ago.”

“What happened?” Rosé immediately asked. “Is she okay?”

The blonde hesitated and looked down at the table. “Technically yes, she’s nursing a hangover at home right now but otherwise fine, unless she’s started day drinking. But there’s a bigger issue, and I’m sure you guys have started to suspect as much. What I’m trying to say is she’s developing an alcohol problem, and if we don’t do something about it now, it could get much worse.”

Everyone else had similar expressions - sadness, concern, anxiety. But none of them were surprised. “What do we do, then?” Rosé asked, breaking a tense moment of silence.

“Listen, I’m not claiming to be an expert. I’m twenty-two, sober for eight months now, so I can relate to how she’s feeling. What she’s going to need is everyone to rally around her, because it won’t be easy to convince her to get help.”

“So can we stage an intervention?” Jaida asked. “Do you have someone we can talk to?”

Juice nodded. “I can talk to my sponsor and have her put us in touch with someone who can get her into a detox, put the whole thing together. It goes so far beyond just telling her to stop drinking, especially in a club environment.”

“Speaking of the club environment,” Gigi chimed in, “we have to address the elephant in the room. What are we gonna do about the Priyanka situation? She told Crystal she’s taking a day job until things cool off, but if Lemon gets help… maybe that’ll expedite the process.”

Jackie sighed, but agreed. “I can open auditions to take on another dancer temporarily, I don’t know how long she’s gonna need, but assuming she chooses to get help, I want her to know she has a place to come back to.” She was quiet for a moment, then added, “I’m going to reach out to Priyanka too, I know she hasn’t been answering most of our calls or texts, but I think I might be able to get through to her.”

“My god, we’ve been so caught up with Lemon, we’ve barely kept up with Pri. Are we bad friends?” Jan asked, feeling a mix of guilt and sadness.

Juice shook her head. “No, of course not. Everyone here is doing their best. You guys reach out to Priyanka and figure out a way to get Lemon to the intervention when the time comes, I’ll do what I can on my part.” From there, they all just had to hope for the best.

——

Jackie took a deep breath, making sure she was calm and collected before knocking on the door. When a woman with black hair and tattoos opened the door, she greeted her politely. “Hi, you must be Scarlett. Um, can you tell Priyanka that Jackie’s here to see her?”

Scarlett nodded, disappearing back into her apartment. There was a solid few minutes of waiting, but Priyanka eventually came to the door. “Hey,” she greeted meekly and led Jackie inside.

Jackie sat at the edge of the bed in the guest room Priyanka had been staying in. “How have you been? You know we’re all worried about you.”

Priyanka’s gaze never left the floor. She picked pieces of lint off of her shorts as she sat down as well, swinging her legs aimlessly. How could she even begin to tackle that question when everything she had ever known had changed overnight? How can anyone process that sort of thing? “Scarlett convinced me to try therapy. I’ve had a couple sessions so far… It helped, I think, but it’s just scratching the surface, you know?”

She listened attentively, nodding along. “I’m proud of you for that. How did your family react when you and Mark broke up?”

“It’s funny, as angry as he was, he didn’t out me. He said it’s clear I have my own problems to work through. My mom was furious that the wedding was called off, so I threw in the ‘I like girls’ news because, well, it couldn’t get any worse,” she sighed. “I don’t think it’s fully hit her yet. She asked me if it was an excuse to get out of the wedding. I haven’t heard back since I told her it was the truth, and I haven’t heard from my dad at all.” She laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I couldn’t even say that I’m gay. It’s too much, I can’t just be gay,” she sat back up and grabbed a tissue, quickly dabbing the corners of her eyes. “How do you get past it, Jackie? How do you stop being afraid of yourself?”

Jackie pressed her lips together as she tried to articulate an answer. “There’s no easy solution, but I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now. I don’t think I was ever ready to be gay, one day I just came to terms with the fact that I was miserable trying to avoid my own truth and that the only way I was ever going to be happy was by loving even the scariest parts of myself.”

Priyanka went quiet again, crumpling the tissue in her hand and staring at it as if the answers were there. “So you don’t think I’ll be able to be fully happy until I embrace being gay?”

“That’s for you to decide. But think of it this way; when you think about your future, best case scenario, what is it in your life that’s making you happy?”

The answer for that wasn’t in her hand, it was in her heart. It made its way into her throat, choking her from the inside and making her pulse race. After everything, it nearly made her angry that it felt inevitable. “Lemon.”

——

“Juice just texted me that they’re on the way,” Rosé read off her phone, her free hand squeezing Denali’s tight, her leg bouncing anxiously.

The woman they’d brought in to help Lemon, Widow, nodded calmly. “Remember, at the end of the day we are here to help her. We’re not punishing or lecturing her, but we have to be firm.”

After another review of the plan, they heard the door open and looked up to see the two girls walk in, Lemon’s expression immediately becoming confused as she looked around. “Are you guys fucking intervention-ing me?” she asked as she took the empty seat to the right of Rosé.

“Lemon, your friends and family are here because they care about you and are worried about your health,” Widow explained. “Now, I know what you’re thinking, ‘this bitch wants to send me to some random rehab until I come back sober for good’, but this isn’t like that. We get that you’re twenty-one, fresh out of college, no history of addiction.”

“So why am I here?” Lemon interjected.

Rosé arched her brow. “Well, for starters, you haven’t been sober a full twenty-four hours in nearly three weeks, you’ve been acting completely unhinged every time you get trashed. You’re actively trying to alienate yourself from everyone who cares about you, you-” She stopped short when Denali squeezed her hand, her cue to reel it in. “You’re going down a dangerous path and we don’t want you to get hurt.”

“This isn’t one of those ninety-day programs either,” Jackie chimed in. “It’s only three weeks, and the first five days are just for detoxing. We’re not saying you have to be sober for good, this isn’t AA, it’s a program that’s going to give you the support and help you need to still enjoy things in moderation instead of relying on alcohol as a coping mechanism.”

Lemon nodded and listened as the rest of the group said their pieces to try to convince her to go. And she took it in, but she was also looking around and at the door. After a while, it became clear that she was waiting for - hoping for - another person.

“Priyanka wanted to come,” Jackie told her. “But we weren’t sure how you would react and decided it would be better if she waited at least until after you detox to contact you. You have to know, though, she really does care about you.”

She sunk further into her chair, not angry, but embarrassed. It shouldn’t have had to come to this, she knew that, knew better. And she hated that everything they said was right, that she did need help. “Fine,” she mumbled, “I’ll go.”

There was a collective sigh of relief as the tension dissipated throughout the room. “Rosé and Juice will go back with you to your apartment so you can pack, we’re going to get you checked in tonight,” Widow explained. “The facility is in Westchester, you won’t be more than an hour away and visitation is every Saturday.”

Rosé looked at her younger cousin and could tell she was doing her best to cover her fear and anxiety. She wrapped her arms around her and hugged her tightly. “You’re going to be okay, baby,” she promised, “they’re gonna take good care of you, and you’re gonna be better than ever once you’re done.”

Lemon nodded quietly, wiping her eyes. “I just wanna get this over with,” she mumbled, still unwilling to allow herself to be vulnerable in front of everyone, though the group anticipated that from her and let it be. All any of them could do now was trust the process.

#rpdr fanfiction #taste of poison paradise #joley #lemyanka #rosnali #jan x nicky #jan sport #nicky doll #lemon #priyanka #juice boxx #rosé #denali foxx #lesbian au #smut

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izzielizzie · 3 years

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Hi! Could you write one shot about Maeve and Bronwyn's talk after the explosion when they're back home for example: like she tells her about the game, Luis and tries to calm her down? Hope you like the idea!

yes! oouin had so much to unpack in terms of Maeve and her development so i really like this idea. enjoy!

“The wedding was so pretty,” Bronwyn says as we climb up the stairs to our rooms. It’s weird, in a way, to be here in my home with my sister wearing a fancy dress and heels that are giving me blisters when just twenty four hours ago, Knox and I were trying to figure out who Jared was.

“Yeah,” I agree absentmindedly. My phone is buzzing in my hand, and I know without looking down at it that it’s Luis.

“Is that Luis?” Bronwyn asks as we reach the second floor.

“Yeah, probably.”

Bronwyn raises her eyebrows at me. “Your boyfriend?”

“We’re not five!” I call after her as we branch off to our separate rooms. I can hear her laughing from across the hall.

I glance at my phone as I push open the door to my room. Just as I predicted, a text from Luis flashes my screen. Are you okay? Luis has been asking me this periodically, just to make sure, and while it’s so damn sweet, I wish I knew how to answer. Because honestly? I’m not. Too much has happened and I don’t know how to unpack it. Or if I even can.

I look up and see my room, which has all the clothes from my closet strewn everywhere: on top of my desk, my chair, my window seat, my dresser, my bed, and even the rug on my floor. I smile a little at the memory of my mother and sister sitting in my room, searching my closet for wedding-appropriate dresses and slowly reclaiming clothes I had stolen from them. That feels like a million years ago, and a wave of exhaustion that had rolled past me last night hits me, and my head is pounding as I collapse on my bed, on top of my dad’s old Yale Soccer hoodie and my jeans that have so many patches on them they look like a cloth store advertisement.

My head just misses the pillow, and my phone slides out of my grasp, thudding onto the ground. “Maeve?” Bronwyn calls. I don’t respond. All I want to do is curl up in a ball and sleep. I hear Bronwyn call my name again. I don’t respond, and a moment later my sister is barging into my room, crouching in front of me and shaking my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

I nod through my headache. Bronwyn looks relieved. She looks around my room for a moment, picks my phone up, places it on my side table, and pushes away a pile of shorts to sit on the bed next to me. She strokes my hair gently, like my mother did when I was younger and the chemo made me nauseous. I want to pull away from her and sleep, but I feel too cozy, especially when she pauses for a moment to pull my purple blanket out from under a pile of tank tops and drape it over me. She rolls me over and pulls the clothes out from under me, and I put my head on her lap.

“Maevey, do you want to talk about anything?”

What I really want to do is sleep, cry, and maybe eat a pint of ice cream, not in that particular order, but talking with my sister has always had a calming effect on me, so I nod.

Bronwyn strokes my hair thoughtfully before tentatively saying, “when did the texting game start?”

I make a noise in the back of my throat, and thankfully Bronwyn understands that I don’t want to start with that. “Okay, when did your nose start bleeding?”

I don’t respond. Bronwyn sighs, pauses, and asks me the question I know she’s been dying to ask me: “so when did you start dating Luis?”

“Two days ago,” I mumble.

“I’m sorry honey, can you say that louder?”

I roll over until I’m looking directly above me. Bronwyn’s looking down at me, and the look on her face, half exasperation and half amusement, looks so much like Mom’s that I can’t help but laugh. Bronwyn smiles and subconsciously rubs at her face. “What?”

“Nothing, you just look like Mom.”

“Says you!”

The general consensus in our family is that I look exactly like my mother (if my mother had brown hair). I laugh, and I’m surprised at how good it feels. Bronwyn looks down at me with her sternest look and asks me about Luis again.

“Two days ago.”

“That’s so cute Maeve. He’s nice.”

“Yeah, he is,” I say. I sound like a dreamy love sick teenager, and I’m surprised that Bronwyn hasn’t commented on it. “But…”

“But what?”

“I feel bad.”

“What, why?”

“I might have…” I trail off, not sure how to talk about Cooper’s game.

“You might have what?”

“Called him an airhead.”

“What!” Bronwyn explodes. Confrontation isn’t really my style.

“Well, not ‘airhead’ specifically. More like a dudebro.”

Bronwyn shakes her head at me. “Why?”

“Because he was with Monica Hill and I was jealous and not thinking.”

“Clearly,” Bronwyn mumbles. Bronwyn doesn’t seem to understand that people can hear her when she mumbles. “Did he forgive you?” she asks out loud.

“Yeah, he did. But I don’t know. Maybe he just forgave me because I thought I was dying and everyone thought I was dying. Maybe he thought it would be unkind to be mad at a girl who might have cancer.”

A look of understanding flits across my sister’s face as she buries her fingers in my braided crown. “You’re worried that he doesn’t like you for you.”

I nod. “Yeah.” I love how my sister knows what I mean without me saying it. Bronwyn thinks for a moment as I shift, my dress becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Unfortunately, I press my head against a hair pin and wince. I’d change but... I don’t have the energy. In her understanding older sister way, Bronwyn pulls me up so I’m sitting in her lap. She lets me slump against her shoulder as she undoes my intricate hair.

“I think, Maevey,” Bronwyn says, continuing our conversation as she pulls hair pins out of my hair and places them on my side table. “That you’ve gotten it into your head that you’re unlovable.”

“Hey,” I protest. I’d argue that, but I don’t have the mental capacity and some part of me thinks that maybe... she’s right. I’d protested so hard when Phoebe and Addy told me Luis liked me, and when I left after our kiss, I didn’t really leave because I was awkward and uncomfortable. I just left because I didn’t want Luis to throw me to the side like he does with every other girl. So I did it first. When my mom says preventative measures are important, I don’t think she means it like that.

“You have honey, don’t even try to argue.” Bronwyn pulls the last pin out of my hair and runs her fingers through it, letting the stands fall down to the small of my back. I lean back against her shoulder and she wraps her arms around my waist, rocking me back and forth. “But the thing is Maeve,” Bronwyn starts hesitantly.

“Yeah?” I ask.

“I’ve been watching you, and Luis, for the past year. Cooper was the one who told me that Luis had a crush on you and I was going to tell him to leave you be but...”

“But?”

“But I’d never seen anyone look at someone the way Luis looked at you.” I don’t respond so my sister continues. “He always looked at you when he made a joke to see if you laughed. He was always the first one to smile at you when you entered a room. Maeve people spend their whole lives waiting for someone who choses them first. And, Maeve, you found your person and you weren’t even looking.”

I close my eyes. “Okay. But what about now? After all the stuff that happened? My history with Knox. My cancer. What if he doesn’t want that in his life?”

I feel Bronwyn tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Maeve, last night, Luis wouldn’t let go of you. I was watching him and...” Bronwyn trails off for a moment, finding her words. “You were his first priority. Even above himself. He loves you Maeve. And maybe you aren’t ready to love him back, that’s okay, but I think you should give him a chance. And more importantly, give yourself a chance. You are worth the world and then some, and it’s time you believe that.”

“Even if I don’t know which college I want to go to?” I ask. Bronwyn’s constant fear - for me and for Nate - means that we haven’t had the Get Your Life Back on Track and Fast conversation, but I can feel it coming.

“Even then,” Bronwyn says with such certainty that I open my eyes and sit up to look at her. She’s smiling at me a little.

“Do you mean that?” I ask, surprised.

“Of course I do. And I want to apologize.” Bronwyn puts her hands on either side of my head, the way Dad does when he’s proud of me. He’s done that a lot today. “I haven’t been fair to you.”

“No, Bronwyn, you-”

“I have Maeve,” Bronwyn says, interrupting me gently. “I left for college, and the only time I checked in with you was to make sure you were gearing up to do the same. I pestered you so much. No wonder you didn’t tell me about the nose bleeds.” I try to interrupt, but she keeps talking. “Maevey, you are my little sister. You mean the world to me. I was so scared that you were going to suffer, and I though that if you did the same thing as me, you wouldn’t. But that wasn’t true. And when you started building your life back together, I was afraid that you’d... do it wrong or something. It makes me sound so awful now, so I thought if you followed in my footsteps you’d be safe. But I forgot how strong you are. I’ve seen you fight for you life, and I didn’t realize that it made you strong in ways we can’t even imagine.” She’s crying now, and I think I am too. “And I’m sorry that I ever made you feel that you couldn’t talk to me. About any of this stuff. I’m going to try to be better.”

I think about all the people in the last few months who have stood at my side without me realizing: Knox, Phoebe, Nate, Luis, and Addy too. She was there, gently pushing me towards the person who will love me for as long as I let him. I realize, now, that I couldn’t have gotten through the last few weeks without them.

“I’m going to try to be better too,” I say, mimicking Bronwyn’s hand placement, my fingers in her curls. “I’m not going to push people I love away anymore.”

Bronwyn smiles at me, tears in her grey eyes and a strange look on her face.

“What?” I demand.

“You’re really beautiful.”

I smile. “You’re beautiful-er”

“Not a word.”

“I don’t care.” I say, pulling her into a fierce hug.

The next moment I wake tangled in clothes and wrapped in my sister’s arms. My phone is buzzing again and I have four missed texts, two from Luis, one from Nate, and one from Phoebe.

I read Nate’s first: where’s your sister?

Sleeping I respond, glancing at my sister’s face.

I wait to respond to Phoebe’s text about missing school this week, since I’m not sure what to say to her yet, so I look at the ones from Luis,

Morning Maeve

You okay?

I pause for a moment, thinking about everything I’ve still got to unpack and think about and accept, but for now, they don’t seem as daunting as they did last night.

Nearly, I type back.

#maeve rojas #one of us is lying #one of us is next #bronwyn rojas #queued #izzielizzie's fics

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medranochav · 3 years

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my moms been living with us for 4 months now. her stay was initially tolerable but is now triggering and I find myself regressing in a lot of ways. Her grief has evolved into torment and per her m.o. she'd like for her issues to take first priority. Except, my sis and I are grown now, and as a therapised household (literally we've all been in counseling, babies included) though we still lean on each other for support, we ultimately don't function codependently.

And beeecause that's not how we grew up, I think my mother is now having to contend with the reality that she has to do the emotional work of surviving her many traumas (and currently her many dramas) on her own. We support her but we can't fix it for her.

Currently, it's a crisis a day and she's spiraling into mini catastrophic states everytime. Which was sufferable at first because despite my labored support, I still maintained my boundaries and didn't adopt her distress as my own. The problem now is the increasing frequency with which these crying spells are taking place. Not to mention the fact that she's been doing so in front of the kids; something that would normally be acceptable because my sis and I make space for feelings (even our own) in our home. The difference being, we do so responsibly. We listen, we talk, give affection and/or space but always with the fundamental knowledge that our emotions belong to us individually and only we can be accountable for them. A gentle reminder that though part of a unit, they still have agency and accountability.

This interdependency makes way for a more compassionate exchange. Whenever they see us cry or be vunerable, the kids have the wherewithal to approach us without attaching themselves to our emotional circumstance. It's an empathy that perceives our emotional reactions as relatable but still not their responsibility. I've seen our work proven time and time again.

One example is when my sister's [redacted] died and the boys spotted her crying on the couch. Without being prompted, they approached her independently, commiserated, hugged and kissed her and shortly after went back to playing on their electronics. It was such a graceful display of emotional validation that demonstrated their love for her without sacrificing their own desires in doing so. Truly remarkable, that at ages 5-8 they maintained boundaries while still being there for their mom.

They're also there for one another but it's seldom a sinking ship. And when emotional support is rejected they respect that as well, without taking it personally [tbh that has more to do with concepts of mandatory consent that we impart on them, but as is evident, it applies. #intersectionality] It's an ongoing practice that I'm proud to be a part of, considering the kids have codependent figureheads in both their maternal and paternal families. WE'RE TRYING TO BREAK CYCLES HERE.

Yes, our home is a safe space for emotional processing but always leveraged with the emotional balance of self reliance, awareness and resiliency. The kids have proven to have the capacity for this and through teaching them, so do we.

It's human to have outbursts, but my mother's pattern is proving to be less intrinsic and more deliberate. She needs an audience in order to experience catharsis. A potentially reasonable behavior except for it's her only one. So it's imbalanced and seeks refuge in the reliance of our total empathy.

Furthermore she's disingenuous in her emotional performances. When approached out of concern, she responds with the proverbial, "I'm ok." Like, its subtle but super manipulative to say that, when we can CLEARLY see she's not. The kids see and hear her, the least she could do is not gaslight them. And I'm not saying her tactics are successful but it exposes the bby's to unnecessary dysfunction and covertly teaches them to assume the responsibility of communicating her emotion for her. She's also non verbal and unpredictable and tho not at her best rn [like, literally who is? this year has wrecked us all] she and we deserve proper communication.

The mind games are soul sucking and triggering for me in a way that is not for my sister. Though we share a mother, the repective versions of her that we experienced as children differ greatly.

My sister's the eldest and spent the first couple years of her life as the only child to a very young mother living alone in America after being displaced by the civil unrest in her native El Salvador. By age 3, with the addition of a new baby sister (my moms 2nd) she was sent to a country fully at war. My sisters would spend the next half decade of their lives in sunny wartorn tropics, watched over and raised by our family of four women. A blissful antithesis to their future with our mom. Upon the return to their forgotten country of origin (USA) and severed from the only family and community they've ever known, the girls were whisked away by a mother they barely remembered and a baby brother they had never met... marking the beginning of my mom's descent into single motherhood.

My mom resented having a brood of kids, namely her 2nd and 3rd, who's father was abusive and absent. Don't know much of the facts outside of what she would ritualistically berate my siblings about during her brutal tantrums -as if it were their fault they simply existed. The second born, my other sister, left home at 12 and has been estranged ever since and the third, my brother, has recently severed bonds abruptly claiming a new life with a woman he's known barely a year yet now calls wife. Proving that despite being raised by the same woman we all had different mothers.

Since my siblings endured a childhood with a volatile, violent woman who managed her emotions thru physical abuse... when she wasn't, she was neglectful of them, turning her attention onto me... the youngest (four years removed from the rest of the pack). I bore witness to said abuse until I was 5, when it was litigiously exposed, forcing her to abandon corporal punishment and rely solely on mental/emotional abuse. That's the version of my mom I got.

I was 10 when my sister left for college. Just my brother and I remained. Similarly to each other we both lived in service to our mother. Whereas his duties were more physically laborious, mine consisted of full on emotional labor. I spent most of my childhood navigating a homelife that was so saturated and occupied by my mother's opera of a life, that there was no room for my feelings, thoughts, desires or identity. I was her plaything, a person sans agency. My age and vulnerability proved advantagous when grooming me. I learned to behave in ways satisfactory to her needs. I was made to react to (and collect) her emotional distress, endorse her judgements of others, perform well in school as a testament to her rearing, and accept her violations of me as normal. I was a shackled spectator, whose own emotions were mere reflections of her dramatizations. I was tailored to be the MOST convenient. So I kept secrets and coped alone. I knew just enough abt myself to remain human but lacked the vision to actualize it. And because emotional abuse is so insidious in its indoctrination, I was really none the wiser until I too moved away years later.

I'm almost 30 now and I'm a mess. I can't establish enduring relationships, I'm fat, I'm broke, I'm debilitatingly avoidant, socially inept, codependent, confused and lack significant self worth. I spent the past decade delving deep into undoing all the work done to me to keep me a reliable supply for my mother and coming to terms with all the time lost in doing so. I've had glimpses and proof of another life but this year sent me back to old coping mechanisms and devastatingly familiar relationships. I read that by its very nature, all pandemics have to end and I thought I was strong enough to share a definite time&space with my abuser for the foreseeable future.... but with no end in sight, I kind of really wish I had established a clearer version of myself and where I stand in this family, to her.

Similar predicaments flung us both to the south and having her here is like a screen forging images of the same dysfunction I exhibited upon my arrival 7 years ago. There's so much I wish I could tell my former self, namely, "it's not your fault. you're not alone. you don't have to try so hard and tomorrow is another day" And perhapz it's this layered vision of myself as seen thru her that compels me to want to save her, but doing so requires me to get too close to a flame I've yet to extinguish. Im not foundationally sound enough to go up in flames and rebuild afterwards, I need a few more rounds of therapy for all that. I'm a stitch away from coming apart at the seams. Weak construction, but I'm still standing. I have more life to live and can't risk the breeze of my mother's chaotic whims to topple what's taken years to forge. I love her, because she's the only mom I got and because she's the kids' only access to our motherland. How can I reconcile this version of me with this version of her?

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snorlaxlovesme · 4 years

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This is just uh. A thing. A long thing. I actually drafted it back in July during Pride Month but chickened out before I could post it. But then I discovered that Ace Week exists and what better time to rant about the quintessential Ace Experience(TM) amiright?

I’ve struggled to define my sexuality since I was like 17. I can remember me and some of my girl friends going to the mall and talking about boys. I was currently teetering around a relationship with one of our male friends and they asked me to define why I was attracted to him and I couldn’t. They didn’t really think anything of it, moved along in the conversation and said “well X isn’t my type, so I guess I wouldn’t get it.” But the conversation stuck with me.

1. Because I never really thought the idea of a “type” was real. I didn’t think people ACTUALLY arbitrarily decided who wasn’t worthy of their affection based on a random set of archetypes. I thought they were shallow for saying that about him. I thought it was a mean concept to not let someone be “your type.”

2. Not being able to identify what I DID find attractive about him was....off. Like sure, he looked fine, but tbh he looked like an average teenage white boy and I couldn’t really pick out a physical identifier that made me want him. That seemed like a bad thought to have about one’s significant other.

Needless to say, that non-relationship went nowhere and I eventually told him I wasn’t feeling it. I thought I just wasn’t mature enough for relationships yet.

At age 18 I had my first kiss. Another male friend of ours. Another relationship I’d been teetering around. I had told him multiple times that I didn’t like the idea of dating him so soon after I had broken things off with X. It felt weird, too soon, let’s hold off. But part of me also didn’t like the fact that I was 18 and had never been kissed. It wasn’t at the forethought of my mind all the time, but it lingered back there. Maybe it was because, puberty-wise, I was a late bloomer. Maybe it was because, in my friend group, I was always somehow dubbed “the innocent one.” I didn’t want to continue being late for every major marker in life, so when Y took me up on a hill at sunset and said “I’m going to kiss you now” I let him.

It was not what I thought it would be. All the magical descriptions of kisses in YA books were drastically over-selling the experience. The first one was nice enough, but I couldn’t help but thinking “this feels exactly like kissing a relative” and being a little relieved and little disappointment that the sensation was exactly the same. The second kiss was much worse because he put his tongue in my mouth and I quickly discovered I hateddd that.

I thought that maybe it was Y’s fault. I didn’t like him the way he liked me, so there was no magic. No spark. But also maybe I was just doing it wrong? He did kind of imply that I wasn’t the best kisser (god, how romantic) and so maybe the more we did it the more I would like it?

We went on one more date after that, and almost every time we made eye contact he tried to kiss me. It was horrible. I spent the better part of the day actively trying to not look at him because I didn’t know how to tell him I didn’t want to do it anymore. That seemed like a bad thought to have about one’s significant other.

Needless to say, it didn’t work out. I’d like to say I handled the situation as maturely as with X, but in reality I ghosted this kid for like 2.5 months and eventually sent him a facebook message saying I wasn’t feeling it. I figured I wasn’t mature enough for relationships yet.

College I had no time for relationships, or so I told myself. Maybe I didn’t have the mental capacity for them because I was too busy wishing I would get hit by a bus (higher education did not go great for someone with undiagnosed ADHD). I kind of assumed everyone also felt the same way, but people were coupling up around me left and right. Everyone had the same stressors I had, maybe even more so, and yet they had time to form new relationships and have noisy sex in the dorm room next to mine. I didn’t have time, though.

My roommate asked me in those first few years if maybe I was asexual. I actually got mad at her for even implying it. Asexuals were emotionless robots who were so repulsed by sex they didn’t even want to THINK about it. I talked about sex with my friends all the time! I masturbated when she wasn’t around like every other day! How dare she even insinuate that I might be one of those people. I just wasn’t ready to be in a relationship yet.

And sure, I’d been on tumblr for years at that point. I’d been relatively educated about the LGBT community and its various factions. But nothing about it screamed ME. All those people seemed to have the same shared experience of knowing who they were since forever, of experiencing some form of discrimination based on who they were. I had always been straight, right? And no one’s ever discriminated me for who I liked.

It was weird, though. Getting older and hearing more and more people talking about sex and just like, NOT feeling the same way. Was talking to my friends in a group chat one day, and one of them was head over heels for one of her coworkers. Not in love, but I-wanna-rip-off-your-McDonald’s-uniform-and-fuck-you-right-here-in-the-break-room (do McD’s even have break rooms? whatever) lust. She’s like, “you know that electricity you feel when you’re next to someone you really, really like. where every time you get close to them you feel this MAGNETISM and your entire body feels hot--”

--and all I could think of was how that sounded EXACTLY how Bella described her feeling towards Edward in Twilight, and just how ridiculous it sounded. That’s some YA bullshit, that’s not real.

And then our other friend in the chat was like “yeah.”

Oh. Well I guess I just have a lower sex-drive than you guys. That’s whatever.

I didn’t really identify as asexual until I saw a post about an aspec identity called autochorissexuality.

The term autochorissexual describes a subset of asexuality which is defined as: a disconnection between oneself and a sexual target/object of arousal; may involve sexual fantasies or arousal in response to erotica or pornography, but lacking any desire to be a participant in the sexual activities therein.

That...kinda sounded like me....

Like I said, I masturbated and all that jazz so I assumed I couldn’t be asexual. I literally loved orgasms. I read smut and watched porn to get off like I assumed the rest of the world did, not even really realizing that a lot of people...get off...thinking about people doing stuff....to THEM.

I do not think about people I know when I masturbate. It feels incredibly weird for them to pop up in any of my fantasies, and I kinda just assumed that meant I wasn’t attracted to any of them (which I’m not), so it was fine. It didn’t really occur to me that I literally NEVER fantasize about myself when I get off. If I read smut I’m thinking of the characters. If I watch porn I’m thinking of the actors. Never am I imagining someone hot and sexy doing hot and sexy things to me. I’m not even very good at getting off based on my imagination alone, unless I’m basically writing my own smut in my head and imagining what THEY enjoy. The thought of imagining things being done to ME feels weirdly...embarrassing? I don’t know. I don’t dig it, so I don’t think it.

Again, it did NOT even occur to me that that might not be how other people operated.

I also didn’t know that asexuality COULD have subcategories like that, other than aromanticism, which was an identity I toyed with for a while and ultimately am still unsure about.

But learning that liking orgasms =/= allosexual was kind of a wake-up for me.

After learning about autochorissexuality (which, while I am incredibly, infinitely grateful that someone coined that term so I could learn more about myself, I will never identify as because it is a mouthful and I honestly don’t know how to pronounce it), I began identifying as asexual. I was 21 at the time. I’m almost 26 now.

A couple people know. Mostly people who follow me on tumblr that I also know in real life. I never really had to “come out” to them per se because they saw my posts and rolled with it. Wasn’t a big deal. I think that I actually had a conversation and TOLD those friends in that group chat, but that didn’t feel like coming out, more like all of us finally coming to a realization about me we should have figured out a lot earlier. Also, they’re friends from tumblr, so they’re not the types to make a big deal out of that stuff either.

Even though I have a couple of tumblr friends that I skype with regularly, I don’t really bring it up in conversation that much. Like two of my irl friends (who, again, follow me on tumblr) know, and we don’t really talk about it much either. It’s there, we all know, but if I don’t bring it up, they don’t either.

I’ve never really “come out” before. Had to sit someone down and have the conversation. Part of me thinks it’s kind of pointless, because whether or not I’m sexually attracted to others isn’t any anyone else’s business, really. It doesn’t super impact my work life or my life with my friends or family, so why does it need to be said? If I decided I liked women and wanted to date one, that would be a big change that I’d have to address to someone. But me being asexual is just me continuing to not have sex with anyone, the way I always have. Seems like a weird thing to cause a fuss about.

But it’s part of me. And I want to talk about it sometimes.

But I don’t even know how that conversation would go. Asexuality is a relatively invisible subset of the LGBTQIA+ community. Like, it’s the last letter, the one that often gets cut off. And when people do bring up the A, it’s for Ally. I’m not gonna get into the discussion about that, I don’t know enough queer history to form a hot take, but the point still stands that many people don’t know about asexuality. And while it seems relatively easy to explain, I guess--

”I don’t experience sexual attraction”

--it also feels way more complex than that. And I’m not very good at articulating why I’m NOT something else when I have a hard time identifying what that something even IS. I was the kid who thought having a “type” was shallow and mean! It didn’t occur to me that people’s sexual fantasies INCLUDE THEMSELVES AS PARTICIPANTS. So how do I explain my lack of attraction to people?

But maybe I’m being too reductive of the masses. Like, I’m not the brightest bulb in the bunch but *I* was able to learn what was asexuality was on my own. Who’s to say others haven’t? Maybe I won’t need to give an informative slideshow every time I come out to someone.

...But what if I’m wrong? What if I get into a relationship one day and I find myself INCREDIBLY attracted to my partner? What if I get into a relationship with a WOMAN one day and realize that I was les/bi/pan this whole time? I know that demisexuality exists, I know that sexuality is a spectrum and people are constantly learning about themselves and evolving. I don’t want to downplay that or..or...invalidate that. I know. But I’m an idiot. And I can’t help feeling that if I come out and commit to fun new adjective about myself and then all of a sudden that adjective doesn’t fit me anymore I’ll be labelled as fraud for forever and ever.

I know that’s probably unlikely for the most part. But it’s still something that’s there in my mind that I feel every time I think about talking about it.

I don’t know. Part of me doesn’t know why I’m writing this post because there isn’t some grand conclusion to my narrative or sweeping answer to my problems. My story continues for as long as I live and maybe things will change and maybe they won’t. I’d like to be able to come out one day and say it. To my sisters. To my coworkers. To some random dude hitting on me who seems kind enough to understand there’s a reason I’m reluctant to flirt back. Probably not to my parents. I don’t know if I want to present the slideshow to them about my lack of sex life, nor do I think they would handle my act of vulnerability with grace or tact (boomers, y’know).

I guess I can end this post by saying that it’s not all bad. Not being “out” kinda sucks, but right now, knowing is enough. There are a hundred other micro situations from my past similar to the ones I spelled out above that made me wonder what was wrong with me. I wanted to be able to like someone the way other people did, to have a normal relationship, but I couldn’t force myself to do it and I didn’t know what was stopping me. The whole am I just broken conversation whirled through my head many a night in college when insomnia prevented me from sleeping and depression stopped me from giving myself a fucking break. It sucked, and maybe it’s a little grim to think of asexuality as a diagnosis to a lifetime of symptoms, but that’s kind of what it felt like.

And that’s not bad! Why? Because i know that I’m not alone and that this is NORMAL . Being asexual is not being broken! It’s something that many people identify with! And honestly that thought alone thrills me enough to make this whole ridiculous narrative worth it. There’s a whole world of people out there feeling the exact same way as me, and none of us are wrong for feeling that way. It is unreal the kind of confidence that gives you.

My friend from earlier, the one who desperately wanted to bang her co-worker, she said something to me the other day that struck me with how far I’ve come in terms of my identity. I was sobbing to her on the phone about a shitty thing in my life, as one does, and she pointed out how the strangest things will get to you while others don’t even have an effect. If someone mentions how I don’t have my drivers license at the ripe old age of 25 I legitimately have a breakdown on the phone with her about it, but if people make jokes about me being a virgin I don’t even bat an eye.

And it IS weird. If someone would have made a virgin joke at me at age 20 I probably would have spiralled into one of my late-night, crying-into-my-pillow sessions about how much I fucking SUCK at being a human, but at age 25 it’s just...whatever. As someone who doesn’t experience sexual attraction, why WOULD I have had sex already? If I don’t seek it out, don’t want it, it’s not gonna be a part of my life, you know? And I don’t care. Past me, without this identifier, would have cared deeply. Current me could go her entire life without having sex and I don’t think it would drastically effect her mood.

It’s weird how one little word can turn things around for you like that.

#ace #long post #asexual awareness week

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basil223 · 3 years

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Queer Girl Rambles pt.1

(If you don’t like long stories that could be said in only a few sentences, skip this. It’s a winding road, so either get in the car and drive with me, or skip the party)

I’m a recently self accepted Queer person. I realized I was a homosexual a little over a year ago and it took a bit for me to be comfy with that. And then I decided I’d download the Her app. It was beginning of lockdown (although if you had asked me then I would have said it was mid lockdown, so I guess this qualifier doesn’t really matter), and I, as a socially out, but familial closeted person decided that talking to women on a dating app might give me a chance to spread my little gay wings.

It took about 20 minutes but a girl, let’s call her Hannah, messaged me. She was funny and actually held a conversation, and Hannah made it very very clear that she thought I was beautiful and that had COVID not been a thing, she would have asked me on a date.

I was shocked, delighted, and baffled. A woman? Liked me? I had never felt desirable before then. No one had ever actively pursued my attention before ~at least, in a respectful way~I was excited.

But here’s some things you’ve got to know. I am a college student. I am a college student who struggles with school. I am a college student who struggles with anxiety. I am a college student who’s main goal is to graduate with possible grades and this is her one try main focus. And most importantly I am a college student who is trying their best.

Sounds normal right?

I get busy, everyone does. Over the next week, Hannah and I seemed to be playing phone tag. One of us would respond, and then along while later the other would. Eventually we exchanged Snapchat’s.

Ok. More backstory...at the time I was taking summer classes, which is essentially a 3 month course jammed into a 4-6 week period. I was taking not only Physicsand Physics lab, but I was also taking Calculas. A class I had failed, in a normal term, twice already. My strengths are not in math or science but I had to take these to keep my graduation date from pushing back. For MANY reasons, it was one of the most anxiety ridden summers I’d ever had. But I handled myself. I’d gone to therapy a few years before, and I had some therapist sanctioned coping mechanisms, and some self taught ones. For example. Spoons. You have 20 spoons a day and you can spend them on whatever you like. Some tasks take more spoons than others, but you only get 20. So use them well. At the time, school was about 15 spoons. Staying closeted during a pandemic and social movements in a southern conservative home took up 4. Which left me about one spoon to spend. Most days this was spent laying on the floor with my puppies or attempting to keep in contact with my ride or die friends. Because that’s one of my self taught coping mechanisms, which may not be healthy or not. But when I reach my capacity, I shut out the world. I cannot respond to texts or calls or, anything. And at this point in my life, my friends understand that. If they don’t hear back from me, I don’t HAVE to worry about upsetting them( I mean I still worry but as I said. Anxiety). At the very least I can just text them spoons and they get it. I try to respond as fast as possible but sometimes things get pushed back a few days.

Anyway, back to the story. We had been snap chatting a bit, at least everyday, but it wasn’t the same. I began to notice that Hannah never seemed to talk about herself. I’d ask her questions about herself but I’d get very little information. And she’d quickly turn the convo back to me. And let me tell you. There is only so much of talking about my own life that I can do. I tried using convorsation starters or asking her opinions on things I had never experience but she had, and...still she gave little information and turned it back to me. It was frustrating, but I accepted it. Maybe she wasn’t as good a conversationalist as I first thought. And another thing I noticed was that she never seemed to be able to chat with me first. I was the one who had to initiate it first. One day I decided that I wasn’t going to message first. A few hours go by and I see on her story that she posted a meme about people not texting people. It seemed weird but I thought, no can’t be about me. The next week I tried it again. The meme was way more pointed and most could argue passive aggressive. I called her out on it, and told her if she wanted to talk to me, she didn’t have to wait for me to do it. She agreed said she’d do that. ~stage whispers~ she didn’t.

These passive aggressive story posts would continue for,gosh a half a year now. If I didn’t text her for a stretch there would be a post on her story about it. It got to a point where I wouldn’t open her stories or even Snapchat at all.

In December I got an internship, which is essentially a full time job and it’s expected I take night classes to accommodate this (it’s part of my major so it sounds crazy but I swear it’s normal). I was anxious and it’s been a huge learning curve. Throughout this time, I would off and on respond to her texts, I’d tell her how the internship was going all that jaz. But there would be days where my spoons we spent and most defiantly not on her. Her call out posts increased. My anxiety got real bad and her posts only made things worse. So eventually her messages sat in my inbox, unread, for 3 weeks. I contemplated never opening them. But I felt bad. I opened them and reexplained why I couldn’t answer in a timely mannor, apologized for the unintentional ghosting, and made it very clear that if she wished to continue texting me, that I couldn’t promis a prompt response. She said “don’t worry about it. I get it. Just remember to text me when you’ve got time!”

Last week J hit, and while Im still not comfy with what was going on in my job and life, I was mentally able to make a rare Snapchat story about getting to pick music at work.

I still didn’t have a lot of spoons to answer her, so her comment on my story sat untouched in my inbox till tonight.

Tonight I found the courage to leave a groupme of people I am no longer friends with. And I opened Snapchat to leave our Snapchat groupchat, when I began to think about Hannah. Because there on her story was another call out post. I had just left groupchat a of toxic people and yet here I was clinging to a girl who made me feel so bad about spending my spoons. Who could not, for whatever reason, have an adult behavior about her feelings and what she wanted and needed out of our “friendship”. I decided I’d remove and block her. I don’t need this in my life.

But her unopened messages were still there. I opened them. There on my screen was Hannah’s response to my week old Snapchat about picking music. The gist of the message? “Looks like your not to busy to post on Snapchat”

All my guilt and remorse flew out the window, and Hannah was immediately blocked from my life.

Why did I wait this long to boot her out? I think it’s because she was the first, and so far the only woman to show interest in me. And I was scared that by blocking her, I was giving up my proof of gayness. Her interest made me feel more valid in my identity.

But that’s the thing. My identity is MINE. And it took my first year of Gay to understand what that meant. I am queer. And that is not dependent on if someone of my sex finding me attractive. That is not dependent of somone giving me attention. I will not be giving others the power to hold my identity hostage anymore

#queer #bisexual #ace???#I don’t know who I am or what I am but I’m here and I’m queer #self thought #ramble #queer girl ramble

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wonder-cripple · 5 years

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Hey world, stop telling my disabled ass to go to war with itself!

I’ve been disabled all my life, and I can say with absolute certainty that being raised in a society that frames the very idea of disability as something to “be aware of” so that we can “fight against it” has been seriously detrimental to my mental health and sense of self-worth.

Encouraging millions of people to approach the life circumstances of disabled people within such an incredibly ableist paradigm comes with some very disturbing assumptions made about us and expectations set forth of us, arguably the most common of which stipulates that, in order for us to not only actively participate in and contribute to society, but to – God forbid – be happy doing so, WE must “fight”. WE must “overcome”. In essence, society tells us that we must resist our very nature in order to live truly fulfilling lives, because there is apparently no way on God’s green earth that we are “happy AND disabled”, not “happy DESPITE being disabled”.

And yet, curiously, while screaming this message in our befuddled faces, society simultaneously turns its back on us and exploits us. We’re told to “stop making excuses”, “quit faking” and “try harder” one minute, and used as the centerpiece of cringe worthy “inspirational” sob stories the next, because hey, how are you ever going to feel good about yourself if you don’t know that someone “has it worse than you” but is living life anyway, so what’s your excuse, buddy? Right?

So basically, we’re only allowed to be disabled when it somehow benefits the abled population. And even then, society refuses to take responsibility for disabling us by using person-first language and coming up with apologist-sounding terms like “differently abled”, “physically challenged” and “special needs” to excuse the fact that we wouldn’t HAVE needs that are considered “special”, or that you feel you need to make exceptions for, if this world had been designed with disabled people and their various (and varying) needs in mind.

These terms, as unassuming as they seem, are packed with a plethora of disconcerting implications. They tell me, a full-time wheelchair user who encounters a multitude of accessibility issues on an almost daily basis, that the problem is with me. They tell me that my inability to climb stairs, work with the physical manipulatives required for the psychological assessments that I administer, and toilet myself have nothing to do with the fact that the only stairclimbing wheelchair on the market right now sells at the price of a car, or that I will likely only have access to physical testing kits wherever I end up working unless I specifically request (and the place budgets for) digital ones, or that my cerebellum is nonfunctional. Instead, my difficulty completing these tasks exists because I’m lazy. Because I’m melodramatic. Because I don’t try. Because I make excuses. Because I’m supposed to be a fighter. A warrior, effectively fighting against myself, and I’m not fighting hard enough.

This is why I experience crippling anxiety. This is why I say “I’m sorry” so often, I actually annoy and frustrate people. This is why I’m borderline phobic when it comes to asking for help and often don’t, even when I desperately need it. Because awareness is not acceptance. Because people knowing about my disability has never rendered them cognizant of everything that it means, and willing to see it as anything other than a bad thing. A stain on my life.

For too long, that lack of acceptance extended to me and how I viewed my own disability. I pushed it away at every turn and distanced myself from it as much as was possible given its pervasive impact on my life. I did what society told me to and fought it with everything I had. I pretended it didn’t exist.

So what did that look like?

Well, I pissed myself in class in the fifth grade because I really had to pee and was too embarrassed to ask for help. I was so isolated and angry as a teenager that I basically bitched out everyone and lost all my friends, all because I thought my disability and subsequent lack of proficiency in adaptive skills was somehow my fault, and I hated myself for that. And when the time came to assess possible career paths as I was entering college, I convinced myself that I was going to be either a med student or a pharmacist, because what motor skill deficits? I don’t see any!

Perhaps what I am most ashamed of is that for the longest time, I was adamant that, once I figured out what I wanted to do, I wasn’t going to “box myself in” and work exclusively with disabled people, like everyone was suggesting based on my unique perspective. To be honest, that was a possibility that I was not only reluctant to consider, but actively avoiding in my mind.

It is the idea of acceptance that has changed my perception. The realization that fighting my core self is not only exhausting, but unnecessary, was the most liberating, enlightening eureka moment that someone in my position and with my mindset could have experienced. You wanna talk about a handicap? You wanna talk about disabling? Think about how disabling it is to feel like you MUST deny your most defining characteristic, and watch your very soul slowly suffocate under the crushing delusion that, in doing so, you will one day reach an impossible ideal. THAT, to me, is even more disabling than a flight of stairs, because it is a notion that has the capacity to negatively impact every single aspect of a person: mental, physical, emotional, spiritual, you name it. It breaks my heart to know that, if I had been guided towards acceptance as a child instead of consistently being encouraged to “push through” my circumstances, I would now be so much healthier in each of these respects.

Given this, I cannot even begin to expound upon how much it bothers me to see parents of disabled children calling their kids “[insert disability here] warriors”. In doing so, these children are expected to essentially come out of the womb battling themselves and wishing that an integral part of their existence would just disappear. As a disabled person and future psychologist, who once hit the rock bottom that I hope to God these kids won’t get to, I feel that I have a responsibility to advocate for acceptance, both personally and professionally, and I will.

Awareness is good. It’s a start. But it’s only half of the equation, and it’s time to move forward.

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jaywrites101 · 4 years

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Why You Should be Voting Democrat: The Republicans are Hypocrites Against God.

This is an essay I now have to give to a person living in this house with me. Some context, they pinned a piece of Republican propaganda they received in the mail to the community posterboard with the words “why I vote Republican” written on it. I have interpreted this as an invitation to challenge their beliefs. And my response is in the essay below.

Sincerely, By Everyone in This House

Pro-life vs Pro-Choice

This argument is a messy one to argue, this is something our country is literally divided over this and each argument is so twisted it's hard for either side to understand one another. For this to be the hill you've chosen to fight on I'm going to have to assume two things—1: you believe abortions are murder, and 2: You believe abortions are a common occurrence made by lazy people who want to get rid of the consequences of their bad actions.

Both of these are common arguments made by the Republican party to defund Planned Parenthood. So it may surprise you that not a single person on the Left is trying to disprove your fighting points.

That's because this isn't about abortions at all. It's about women's rights. Abortions only play into this because it was the item that forced the issue before the courts and the public.

In 1973, Roe v. Wade was a landmark decision of the U.S. Supreme Court in which the Court ruled that the Constitution of the United States protects a pregnant woman's liberty to choose to have an abortion without excessive government restriction. This decision effectively guaranteed that a woman had the right to treat her body as her own property, meaning she could choose what she eats, who she has sex with, and, yes, whether or not to carry a pregnancy to term.

The decision ruled that the US Government has no right to decide the moral outcome of a single person's choices. Nor do they have the right to force a person to live in what they currently believe to be an ethical lifestyle.

This is the one and ONLY law in our country that explicitly gives women the same rights to life, responsibility, and authority that a man has. It also the only law that ensures a woman has the ultimate right to refuse to have sex with a man.

Republicans want to overturn Roe v. Wade and defund Planned Parenthood (not end abortions). They often cite the evils of abortions as the reasons why they want to overturn it. However, this is not their real motivation. Planned Parenthood has a multitude of other services for women and men besides abortions. They help people conceive children, provide safe-sex alternatives to reckless teens, provide both erectile stimulants and contraception, and even hormone therapy for trans people transitioning genders. They also provide pregnancy care for women just like any other hospital.

And as we've discussed Roe v. Wade is about a woman's rights to her body.

Republicans are trying to keep women from having equal rights. This much has been stated by Republicans in the 1970s and that mentality continues to today. It's blatant hypocrisy from a group of people who've only read the Bible enough to make real Christians like yourself believe they're doing God's work. And they are not shy about signaling how religious they are. God even has a Bible verse for them specifically:

“Therefore, when you do a charitable deed, do not sound a trumpet before you as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may have glory from men. Assuredly, I say to you, they have their reward.” Matthew 6:2. (NKJV)

Government Spending

This one's actually a very easy argument to refute. Republicans are always talking about making tax cuts and spending less money. In truth, all the money they save goes straight into the military budget which increases by BILLIONS of dollars each year. We're currently spending $934 billion a year on our military budget. According to the last Discretionary Spending Audit under Obama, more than half of that goes back into the politicians in both the House and the Senat across both sides of the aisles. That's also why this issue is one many Democrats actively support; the military is giving them a kickback.

The tax cuts you experience is not the government saving an extra twenty cents by cutting out beef from their cafeteria and passing the savings to you. It's the Republican party throwing the US into more debt to artificially give you a tax break so you'll continue to vote for them, and force the Democrats to be the ones to have to put that back to normal so they look like the bad guys.

Long story short, if you want the government to save money, vote Democrat, pay higher taxes and demand a drastic decrease in military spending.

Fun Fact: If we succeed in cutting the military budget by one-hundredth of a percent, the excess funds would pay to empower EVERY SOCIAL SERVICE the democrats suggest (from healthcare all the way to free electricity.) for the next ten years.

Education (Really? This one's so backward you should know better without me explaining.)

Republicans have been so far on the wrong side of this debate I'm surprised I have to tell it to you. For decades they've cut school budget both in the public and private sectors. They happily cut millions of dollars a year from the federal grants that are supposed to help kids afford college, while also artificially inflating the price of school, school supplies, and class prices.

This is not some secret thing you'll have to search hard for. They brag about it on tv every other episode of Fox News.

The document you gave me lists education but provides no real proposals or examples of problems they hope to change, it is preying on your ignorance in this situation to make themselves look good. (What follows was not any part of the document they left, but are bullet points I thought they should be thinking about when they go to vote.)

Gay Rights

People who are gay, or otherwise not cishet WASPS should have the right to live a life of their own choosing without persecution or judgment from us. Jesus says everyone has that right amongst man. We're supposed to leave all that to God, so leave it for God.

Racism

I direct you to the current protests as proof that Racism is a thing that still exists, and has only gotten more unmanageable as time has moved on. Also, every Black Lives Matter protest since Martin Luther King Jr.

Socialism

Roads, parks, schools, and social security are all social programs funded by the government for the people. We on the Left wish to expand these capacities to healthcare, electricity, internet, higher education, and phone services, while also insisting that the government provide the minimum funding needed for people to live. (This in a time when the cost of living keeps rising higher due to unchecked capitalism.) We demand the government provide for the homeless, and regulate the supply chain of food. (because over 70% of all food in the garbage across this country is thrown away while it's still fresh.)

We have the ability to end starvation, and homelessness in this country. We argue this means we have the responsibility to do so as well.

Gun Reform

Democrats believe no civilian needs access to weapons of war. It's too easy to exploit these weapons and it results in mass killings of innocents. There are far better and more effective ways to defend yourself and your family than buying a bunch of guns and shooting anything that makes a noise in the night.

Police Reform

This is the current agenda. Police have gone unpunished for their crimes against civilians, (especially civilians of color,) and our current system 1: Encourages police to kill first, ask questions never, 2: Forces cops to take on roles they are untrained for, and 3: Gives them too much power without any reliable method of accountability. We demand all three of these things be addressed and changed in a meaningful way.

All of this without even mentioning Trump, the man actively trying to be a dictator.

#politics #trump #vote #fuck trump #against trump #this person is driving me insane with their political views

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akaashisupremacy · 4 years

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Chapter 3: Chasing Springtime (Autumn)

Tsukki x fem!reader/Oc

Genre: romance, fluff, lil bit of angst, (wc: 9967 yall I got carried away)

Summary: Kei Tsukishima, now in college is reacquainting himself with a childhood friend. Old feelings that he has long shoved aside resurface as they deal into new territory.

Notes: Kaori Miyahara is an original character, but readers are free to put themselves into her shoes! There will be more chapters to come and let me know if you have any feedback or if you want to be in the taglist.

Also I’m new here so if you wanna be friends I’m down huhu

Chap. 1 (A03) || Chap. 2 (A03) || Chap. 3 (A03)

Summer (2014) || Ishi Acupuncture Clinic || Sendai City || 2:00 PM

Miyahara Kaori breathed out a sigh of relief after her doctor took out the last ventosa cup from her back. She was given some time off to rest and go to rehab. Unfortunately, her mom had taken the opportunity to book her an appointment with an acupuncturist to help with her sore back. After worrying about the appointment for days, she could finally set her mind to something else.

Tsukishima Kei was seated on the bench in the reception area reading a magazine. He sat mildly hunched over having not yet fully grown into his height. Even when he was seated, he still looked incredibly tall. Kaori had forgotten his exact height, but he was about to hit six feet for someone who was only 14 going on 15. He was waiting for Kaori, his neighbor and friend who constantly dragged him out to join her adventures in the city. The two were set to go to the library today. She had always been jus a friend, but sometimes he couldn't help but feel they were on a date when they hung out just the two of them. They were in their Third Year in Junior High.

Tsukki looked up from his magazine to find Kaori dressed in a red and white striped top and khaki shorts. It wasn’t often he saw her out of her athletic wear or school uniform. Seeing her a little more dressed up than usual made his heart skip a beat.

“How was the session?” he asked, putting the magazine back into its place.

“Still not a fan of needles,” she sniffed, stretching her back a bit.

“Let’s get out of here.” she shuddered, nudging him towards the door.

Tsukki led Kaori as they navigated through the streets on their way to the library. He normally never ventured into the city just for a library considering there were a few district libraries closer to their neighborhood, but Kaori had run out of books she was interested in and asked him to bring her to the bigger city library.

“Can I please just draw you a map from the clinic or something?” he sulked.

“You labelled the streets wrong last time. You skipped a street and moved an entire’s district worth of streets into the wrong direction!” she frowned, crossing her arms.

“The street names got cut so I had to write them myself, ok? I already said I was sorry.” he said, exasperated at her attempt to use him as a tour guide again. Kaori would often ask her friends to bring her to unfamiliar places she wanted to explore, but she asked him the most often because he lived closest to her.

To begin with, Kaori was not great at reading maps and he was equally terrible at making or even just printing them. Something was almost always missing or wrong, so he often brought her to places she asked in concession of getting her lost. Tsukki sighed deeply and grudgingly agreed.

The city library was in view. They could see its large rectangular architecture and its imposing glass windows from where they stood. The building looked daunting, but as they walked closer, they could see the comfortable couches and chairs scattered around its interior. A sense of excitement brewed inside of them.

“Kaori, why don’t you just buy the books?” he asked, turning to her. Her family was relatively well-off and her parents were well-read. Surely they see the value of keeping books in their home? He thought about his own book collection at home and how convenient it was.

“We moved around a lot,” she explained, “My mom said it was impractical to buy lots of books when I could just borrow them. Saves us the trouble of having to ship and store them.”

“But when I get my own house, a house where I don’t ever have to move away from again I want my own book shelf that I can fill with my books and trinkets - a place where I can keep books for years and still be able to read the same one.” she beamed. Kaori was so excited at the sight of the building she was almost skipping.

“Having my own bookshelf is pretty great,” he agreed. He liked having his own collection.

Tsukki was struck by the realization that Kaori never had a permanent home and that she actually longed for one. He made a mental note. One day when she finally had her own place, he would save up and get her a bookshelf as a housewarming gift, so that she too could experience the joy of collecting her own books.

As they approached the library steps, a boy in a bicycle rushed past them barely missing Kaori on his way. Kaori stumbled, almost falling out of balance. She hit Tsukki’s shoulder as she got back onto her own feet.

The weight of her shoulder pressed against his arm sent his heart on a rollercoaster and the hairs on his arm stand. Lately he had been feeling awkward and jittery around her and it amplified when she touched him in any capacity. He didn’t know where the feeling came from and he really wished it would stop.

“That was rude,” she huffed, brushing things off.

“Super reckless,” he added, glaring at the boy’s direction and hoping Kaori couldn’t hear how loud his heart was beating.

While Kaori signed up for a library card, Tsukki found a four-seater table that they could share. He waved to Kaori as she wandered into the library holding her new card. She waved back as soon as she saw him and put her things down. He placed his things on the seat of the table near the glass windows while she placed her bag opposite to him.

Tsukki decided to pull out some books on dinosaurs. Kaori headed to the section of English books, but instead she came back with a book on Aichi, Nagoya.

“I got carried away reading it,” she confessed, taking her seat. “Look at those flowers and endless fields. Doesn’t it look amazing for a spring vacation? I could paint there all day!”

She pointed at the pictures, shoving the book in his face. Tsukki stood up and sat beside her. Kaori’s arms could barely reach him because of the table between them. He pulled up the chair where her bag was and sat beside her.

“I thought you hated being in the thicket.” he whispered, giving her the side-eye, “You make fun for our neighborhood for being a forest under the mountain. This isn’t a city at all!”

“Clearly Aichi is not just a thicket. It’s a pretty thicket with more interesting plant life especially during spring.” she argued, pointing towards a field of yellow flowers.

Tsukki peered over the book to have a closer look at the picture. He became conscious of how close his face was to hers. He could feel her breath at the side of his face and the weight of her gaze on the book. His nose almost touched her cheek. His cheeks warmed the longer he stayed so close to her. He quickly backed away when he realized his cheeks were hot. If Kaori had turned to look at him at that moment, he just knew he would melt in embarrassment.

“Spring is done this year, so maybe you can go next year.” he shrugged, walking back to his seat.

“I’m not in a rush to visit Aichi. I could be when I’m an adult. I just hope to be able to visit someday. My gymnastics schedule is still tight right now. Maybe when I retire.” she said, flipping through the book.

Kaori eventually found her way to the section with English books. She pulled out around ten and narrowed down the five she wanted to borrow. Because Kaori spent some time abroad, her English was better than most local students. Her mother encouraged her to begin reading books in English a year before they began living abroad so that Kaori would be able to read signs and other things by the time they moved. Tsukki borrowed a couple of books on world history that were not among his collection. He liked history, but not enough to buy much books on the topic.

After their trip to the library, they stopped by the convenience store for some snacks. Kaori bought two mini-cartons of croquettes and gave half to Tsukki. The croquette was still warm and its juices flowed when Kaori sank her teeth in. Sometimes she bought Tsukki food to make up for having dragged him into her adventures. That and she wanted to make sure he was eating. Tsukki didn’t have much of an appetite.

They ate as they walked. Neither one of them talked as they walked side by side. The sun began turning orange when they finally reached the station.

When they entered the station, Kaori lost herself in the crowd. Her eyes were searching for which platform to head to when she realized Tsukki was gone. He would know where to go. It was probably the first platform on the right, but he would confirm it for her. She liked to be better than him in many things except for directions. He could be better at that.

She walked deeper into the station where everyone was heading to before they separated into their respective platforms. Kaori made sure to keep pace so as not to bump into anyone.

Tsukki was a human giraffe. He would not be difficult to find. Sure enough she found a tall, relatively slim boy looking left and right beside the ticketing booths, frantically adjusting his glasses. She placed a hand on his elbow. He jolted back to look at her.

“There you are!” she said calmly.

Tsukki sighed in relief. He felt like the past few minutes had made him sweat, in part because the station was warm but also because he thought Kaori was lost.

“You should walk slower next time. You take really long strides.” she said, pushing him in the direction of the first platform. He looked slightly shaken. Tsukki slowly relaxed and let her walk in front of him. His eyes on her this time. He was so relieved to find her he didn’t retort.

The train they got in was not extremely packed, but wasn’t empty either. All the seats were taken and the two of them stood for the trip home. Kaori picked a spot near the door where she could lean back and read her book. Tsukki stood opposite her. His arms were crossed and his headphones were on.

Kaori felt the gentle shuttling of the train as she lightly bounced against the acrylic stands of the seats. The rhythm calmed her down. She became quickly absorbed with the book in her hand. The rest of her borrowed loot was in a paper bag between her feet. Trains were nice. She wished she could ride them every day to school if they were actually in her route.

Tsukki found it difficult not to be absorbed by Kaori. Her hair had turned into a warm shade of brown and her skin was illuminated by sunset. He cocked his head to quickly look at her. He wanted to lean forward and stand closer to her, but he was shy and she probably didn’t like him that way, so he stood where he was. He turned to look outside the window and occasionally sneak glances at her through his lashes.

When they got to their home station, Kaori darted for their bikes parked just outside. She dropped her books into her bike’s basket and sighed.

“My back feels really heavy after the acupuncture session.” she stretched a bit bending backwards until she looked like a table. Tsukki felt like his back would snap in half if he tried that stretch.

He followed behind her and placed his books on his basket. They carefully pulled out their bikes and prepared to head back home.

“Probably didn’t help that you borrowed so many books too,” he said, bringing out his own bike from the thicket of bikes.

“My back will get over itself tomorrow anyways,” she said defensively brushing him off.

Tsukki didn’t feel like going home just yet. He wanted to stretch the day just a little longer. The sun was still out albeit setting and there was still time before dinner.

“Let’s drop by the convenience store. I want some popsicles.” he said.

They biked towards the nearest store and Tsukki came out with two popsicles. He handed one to Kaori. They stood with their bikes at the parking of the store. They ate in silence.

“Our Junior High team is having a game sometime in October. You should come. Yamaguchi will be playing too.” he said awkwardly attempting to fill the stillness.

“I’ll go if I don’t have to be competing that weekend.” she promised, licking her popsicle. Kaori liked watching competitions, especially if she was not the one competing.

“When are your fall competitions?” he asked, “Has the Federation said anything? Assignments for the grand prix circuit should be out by now.

“I don’t know the exact dates, but Coach did already announce them. I don’t want to think about them until I actually have to.” she shrugged her shoulders, “It’s summer, I don’t want to think about competing, I just want to have fun!”

Kaori had been thinking about her career next to Tsukki’s. She was competing in the elite level. Aside from finally competing as a senior, there was no place higher for her to go. Gymnasts typically peaked quite early with most women retiring in their twenties or even in their teens.

Tsukki meanwhile was playing at the Junior High level. Currently, he is just starting out on his volleyball career. He had a long way to go before he reached his peak because his sport depended on height, power and experience in contrast to hers which placed a bigger emphasis on smaller body frames.

“Do you think you’ll play professionally one day?” she asked, “Like in a big gym with crowds cheering after High School?” she asked.

Tsukki is competing on a Junior High level, but one day she imagined him in a professional team playing in center court with posters of his team all over the venue. People would know him by name and know his stats by heart. She wasn’t exactly sure if he could make it to the top tier of the professional division, but playing professionally seemed possible.

“I’m not sure I’m good enough. Who knows? Maybe I’ll quit after High School, maybe I won’t.” he shrugged. He didn’t particularly like volleyball. It was mostly just a club activity he picked up because his brother also played.

“But if you do though…” she trailed.

“Then your first tickets are on me.” he scoffed, biting off the last piece of popsicle from the stick. He doubted he would be good enough.

“Would you sign it too?” she asked eagerly. When Kaori had the chance to attend international senior events for rhythmic gymnastics, she would ask her idols to sign her program guide or her notebook. She thought it would be cool if they signed her ticket, but she attended these events with a pass (as a fellow athlete) and not a ticket.

“If I really made it to a pro-league, sure. But I’d have to make it in first,” he said skeptically, getting ready to get back onto his bike. A professional career was so far off.

Kaori got on her bike, “Tsukishima, hear me out. I think you could make it. You’re tall and competitive. You have good game sense. You need more training, strength and stamina, but that will come in time. If you get good coaching and more fired up about winning, you will probably get scouted.” She spoke with such confidence. He was dazed by how certain she sounded.

Tsukki turned to her puzzled, “Developing more strength and faster reflexes is an issue I’m kind of dealing with right now. How would you know if I will be scouted? I’m not a stand out player or anything. Don’t be patronizing.”

Kaori tutted with her hands on her hips, “I’m on the Junior National Team remember? That’s right Miyahara Kaori of Team Japan. I know a thing or two about being scouted. I wasn’t a stand out gymnast either but I made it. It’s about working on your weaknesses and building on your strengths. Don’t worry about those Junior High prefectural awards. Not everyone stands out when they’re young. In fact that’s the most recognition some of them will ever get. Make your move in High School.”

They started biking homewards. Tsukki was a little astounded and grateful by Kaori’s belief in him. Could he really make it as a pro-player?

The route back home was nearly empty. They could bike freely on the lanes. Tsukki rode near Kaori, attempting to push her off the bike by poking her. He would ride near her then move away when she started to attack. Kaori fought back by trying to push him off his bike with a book. Although he had a clear advantage because of his long arm Kaori was persistent and quick. She tried to surprise him when she could.

They sparred back and forth until their fingers touched. A buzz of electricity shot through his veins. He tried to remember what it was like to touch her finger. He only remembered the pressure of her finger on his.

Kaori quickly jabbed him on the side and rode off on her own while he was distracted. She stopped at the intersection.

“Hey! That hurt.” he said winced, clutching his side. He pedalled faster to catch up to her. He lowered his eyelids and stared down at her.

“You started it!” she laughed and biked again. He biked to catch up with her.

Kaori was laughing as the wind carried her hair. Her laugh was music to his ears. He smiled to himself when she looked ahead. He was so helplessly crushing to her. He wished the day could extend itself so he could spend a little more time together. Their houses appeared within their view. Tsukki wished they had lived on the next street instead.

——————————————————————————————----

Fall (2018) || Sendai City Gymnasium || Sendai City || 2:00 PM

The Fukushima City Stadium was abuzz for today’s game. The Sendai Frogs, a Division 2 professional volleyball league, were playing a game against the hometown Fukushima Red Warriors. There were lines on the snack counters and people looking for their event’s program sheet. Former volleyball players were chatting in groups just outside the court and families were walking to and fro the hallway.

Tadashi Yamaguchi headed into the court. He walked into the bleachers to find Kaori Miyahara already seated and browsing through the event profiles. Her hair was down and she was dressed in a denim jacket and a dress. He recognized her even though he could hardly see her face because she was covered by the book. He hardly remembered the last time he saw more than just a glance of her. It seemed so long ago.

Kaori looked mostly the same from her middle school self. She had always been poised and neat with a constant air of dignity about her but there was something different about her this time around. As he climbed the stairs, he felt it was strange to watch a volleyball game in the bleachers with her. It used to be that he was on the court and she was on the bleachers during volleyball games.

“Kaori! Hi…” he said, waving at her.

Kaori waved back and motioned to the empty seat beside her.

“How have you been?” he asked casually, seating himself beside her. He had bought snacks just before he entered the court and offered some onigiri to her. She politely declined.

“I just came off my physical therapy session and rushed here. Tsukki thought I might not make the game because of the travel, but here I am.” she smiled, “How have you been?”

Kaori Miyahara, Tadashi Yamaguchi and Kei Tsukishima went to the same Junior High and High School up until Kaori transferred out during her first year second semester. They were even in the same class in Junior High. Yamaguchi was Tsukishima’s (or Tsukki as they both called him) best friend and volleyball teammate while Kaori was Tsukki’s next door neighbor. She used to attend their games and they did their best to cheer her on in her gymnastics competitions.

“I’m doing well. It’s been a while. Feels a bit strange that we’re on the same side of the bleachers now too.” he nodded.

In the somewhat distant past of Junior High, Kaori would gather up their other classmates who attended their games and turn them into a mini-cheer squad. He still remembered her voice ringing through the court when they scored a point.

“If this feels really strange, maybe you and Tsukki should catch one of my competitions so it will be just like Junior High.” she joked.

Yamaguchi laughed. He remembered afternoons in the local gym when Kaori used to compete in local competitions to warm up for her pre-season. There were not that many competitors from the prefecture and the bleachers were hardly packed, but Kaori always participated to test her routines under competition pressure. It would be one of the few chances for her friends to see her too considering at that time she either competed away from the prefecture or internationally. Tsukki would make him go so that he didn’t attend alone.

Kaori would typically medal on most of her apparatuses and Yamaguchi would cheer with her other friends from school. Tsukki would religiously clap just because he didn’t really cheer.

“We really should. Tsukki’s schedule is always busy with practice, but we really should make time. You mostly compete within the area now, it's a poor excuse not to go.” he nodded in agreement.

“Yeah and Tsukki would complain about going just like old times!” she laughed, remembering many a walk to school where she was coming up for reasons for him to go.

“He would pretend to complain, but he always went.” said Yamaguchi with a knowing smile.

Kaori couldn’t help but grin. It was true. She would invite him and he would grudgingly agree to go, but he never failed to show up, noisemakers and program guide in hand. Just before the court started filling with people, Yamaguchi suggested they move down to the lower seats to get a better view of the game.

They made their way down and chose seats at the visiting team’s side towards the side of the net. Tsukki was the type that didn’t invite people to his games because he felt it added pressure to an already high stakes event. His friends and family often disregarded and went anyway.

The players began warming up. They appeared on the court and some fans cheered the name of individual players. Somewhere behind them, someone yelled “Tsukishima!”

“They look like they’re probably from the university. I can’t believe they travelled here for this.” said Kaori banging her noisemaker, a little surprised ”I didn’t know he had gotten so popular during our time apart.”

Kaori hadn’t watched his games for years. This was Tsukki’s first game of the season. Although technically he was in his second year as a professional player. This was Kaori’s first game since they reconnected towards the end of winter term earlier on this year.

“After we qualified for our first prefectural finals for volleyball, girls started coming up to me to ask about Tsukki. He’s had a following since then.” explained Yamaguchi, turning to her.

“He’s not as good looking as Oikawa, how did that happen?” she asked in confusion. Tooru Oikawa was a player for another school in the prefecture. He was wildly popular among high school girls when they were freshmen for his looks, charm and skill. He almost always had fans waiting for him to arrive at the stadium during matches to give him gifts. He was the type to get fans, not stoic giants like Tsukki.

Yamaguchi chuckled, “I guess girls like tall boys and star players? I don’t really know either, they just said he looked cool.”

“I’ve always wondered if you ever get jealous when girls cheer for him on games.” he added hesitantly.

“No, not really. Honestly he’s not really into this kind of attention either.” she said, shrugging with ease.

“I’m more interested in Tsukki as a player because he sets up mind games. He finds it fun to strategize. Watching him play is a great way to see how his mind works.” she explained.

Yamaguchi nodded. Kaori’s observations were true. Tsukki was an athlete that did not run on instinct. All his plays were distilled from his observations at court. Yamaguchi was a little jealous that his best friend had found someone who knew how he ticked as an athlete.

“You know when our team was doing in High School I kept thinking of how much you’d enjoy our games. We got really competitive with the top schools. Tsukki really honed his game sense during those years. You would’ve been very proud of him. He wouldn’t admit it, but I think he would have liked you to have seen his growth too.” he reminisced.

Yamaguchi remembered the time in Junior High when Tsukki let slip his crush towards Kaori. It was a week before their match and he had been too nervous to eat lunch.

“Tsukki! I’m so nervous for our game on Saturday I can barely eat lunch.” groaned Yamaguchi, sitting in front of his still wrapped lunch box.

“It’s just a Junior High game, you shouldn’t put so much time worrying about it.” he said, unwrapping his own lunch on his table.

Yamaguchi sighed and threw his head back.

“Is Kaori coming to watch? I think I’d be even more nervous if she brought some of our classmates to watch.” he sighed.

“She’s out competing right now but she said she’ll come to our game next week.” he said, smiling smugly to himself.

The smile did not go unnoticed.

“Tsukki, are you smiling?” asked Yamaguchi.

Tsukki quickly recoiled into a scowl, “No, why would I?”

Yamaguchi began teasing him, “Do you like her? You were definitely smiling!”

Tsukki’s eyes narrowed. He shooed Yamaguchi, “Shut up! That’s not true.” Even if it was kind of true. He continued to frown even though his cheeks were turning a light shade of pink.

“I fully support you!” encouraged Yamaguchi, “She’s a great athlete and she knows how to play volleyball. She’s smart and she’s funny too. Tsukki, she’s perfect for you.”

“If she’s so great, why don’t you ask her out then?” he retorted.

“Because like I said, she’s perfect for YOU.” nodded Yamaguchi with finality, “You should try asking her out before some other boys do.”

When Kaori moved away during High School, Tsukki was beyond crushed. He pretended like it didn’t bother him, but Yamaguchi knew that it was all just a facade.

“I am proud of him. I sometimes catch your games when they’re in Tokyo, you know? Or if there are replays online.” she said, “I’ve always believed in him. When I found out he had been signed onto the Sendai Frogs, I definitely called it.” She smiled. There was an unabashed affection and respect in the way she spoke about him.

“Ughhh, see this is why you’re perfect for him! I was hoping you guys would get together in High School before you moved away. In my mind, you were the perfect sports couple. It’s such a waste Tsukki didn’t make a move then,” sighed Yamaguchi.

“I don’t think he was ready then,” she chuckled, “Besides, I would have turned him down. I knew Tsukki had feelings for me, but I really didn’t feel the same way.”

Yamaguchi’s jaw dropped. He had always thought that she liked him back. The two of them always carved out time during the weekends for each other, not to mention they walked to school almost every day. Kaori put up her hands and waved it from side to side.

“We’re properly dating now though, so everything worked out in the end I guess.” she rambled.

“I guess it’s not completely surprising. Tsukki can be anti-social and thorny. He takes some being used to.” he acknowledged, “It can be difficult to get along with him, much less like him.”

“That’s rich coming from his best friend.” she snorted.

“It’s true though and you know it too.” he said, throwing up his hands.

Kaori reluctantly conceded that it was.

“Which I guess makes you dating him, a bigger mystery really…” he mumbled, his hand on his chin.

Kaori couldn’t help but laugh.

“I think I’ve told you that I’m only half Japanese. It may not mean much to you because you’ve known me for a long time now but when you’re a gymnast who starts vying for the national team, people question your spot because they view you as a foreigner. I wasn’t half white either so I wasn’t even a special kind of happa (term used to refer to half-Japanese people). I was just not Japanese enough to some people.

In fact I like that he never tells me how I should be or what to do. When it wasn’t my Japanese-ness people were questioning, it was the way I ate, the way I talked, it was always not feminine enough or too rough around the edges. Tsukki just expects me to be with me earnestly. He was never fazed by my ethnicity or my femininity.” she shrugged.

The referee’s whistle blew and signalled the captains to shake before the game. The players from the starting order were introduced. Tsukki was one of few in today’s starting line-up who was still in school. It provided Yamaguchi and Kaori a swell of pride to hear his name and jersey number announced.

When the players got into position just before the game started, Tsukki’s eyes wandered in the audience, stopping at the sight of Kaori. She smiled and made a small wave. She made it after all.

After the game ended, fans gathered around players to ask for pictures and autographs. They formed circles around the players, who were later shuffled off to booths for signing. Kaori and Yamaguchi took their time before leaving the stands.

“I usually just wait for people to finish their picture-taking sessions before I approach Tsukki. We’ll be able to talk more with him then.” he said.

“We should have a picture. The three of us! It will be like a class reunion.” she suggested brightly.

Kaori took out her ticket from her wallet and waved it. “I’m going to ask him to sign my ticket too.”

“What for?” he asked. The couple probably saw each other almost every day at school. Couldn’t she ask him to sign then?

“When we were in Junior High, I told him that he should sign my ticket for his first professional game. I mean, I’m like over a year late to his first actual game, but it’s still my first game.” she said.

Yamaguchi nodded in understanding, “When the line gets shorter, we should line up for autographs too! You have the ticket signed and I’ll have my program signed too.” He grinned with a twinkle in his eye.

“He’s going to hate it,” she grinned back, “But let’s do it!”

Yamaguchi and Kaori found the line for the autographs when it began waning. They patiently lined up and chatted until it was their turn (which was not long). Tsukki didn’t have as many fans as they thought he would.

“What are you doing here? I said I would meet with you guys later.” Tsukki looked a little confused and embarrassed. It never ceased to feel weird when people he knew were standing in line.

Yamaguchi peeked from behind Kaori, “We’re working towards an authentic experience for Kaori’s first game. She hasn’t been to any professional games here you know.”

Tsukki tried not to growl at him. He should have known Yamaguchi was going to try to pull this stunt again. Tsukki preferred to meet people he knew after his contractual obligations. Yamaguchi defied his request half the time. Kaori held up her ticket and handed it to him.

“You said you would sign my first game ticket,” she reminded him.

Tsukki was confused for a moment before his eyes widened at the realization of his promise. He hadn’t taken the promise seriously at that time, but he supposed he still made it.

He pulled a clean piece of paper from under the table and made a makeshift envelope. While he wrote, he used the envelope to cover the ticket as if he was taking a quiz. After he was done, he placed the ticket in an envelope and gave it to her.

“You can read it when you get home.” he said.

Yamaguchi had him sign the program guide as usual.

After Tsukki was “released” as he put it, he went for a quick chat with Kaori and Yamaguchi. They got their picture right before the team was preparing to head back to the bus for their ride home. His coach called for him. He excused himself to join his team. Yamaguchi and Kaori took the train home together, catching up as they commuted. They too hadn’t seen each other in years.

When Kaori got home, she took out the ticket out of the envelope to see what Tsukki wrote. The ink had been slightly smudged but his writing was still legible.

“This win was because you knew I’d get here. Thank you for believing in me before my scout did. - Tsukishima”

Kaori read his note twice, thrice, four times, savoring her promise that had come true. She tacked the ticket on the cork board above her small desk. Tsukki is always dismissive about other people’s opinion. It hadn’t fully sunk in that he had taken her word from Junior High to heart.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Sato-san, I have a favor to ask.” Tsukki approached his senior hastily.

The Sendai Frogs’ first game in their home city had just ended and fans were just starting to descend from the bleachers. After a few pictures here and there. Tsukki snuck back to the locker room to quickly wipe himself down and put on a jacket without his team logo.

“Tsukki, are you headed back out? Let’s go together.” nudged Seiji Arakawa, one of his team mates.

“I’ll join in a few, you go ahead.” he said, switching from his sports goggles to his regular glasses.

Tsukki had no plans on running back to the Sendai Frog fans just yet. He was headed to Kaori’s competition. Her coach had entered her into her first competition for the fall. She was scheduled to come up in a few minutes. He had already missed her individual qualifiers and hoop individual finals because of his match, he was not going to miss her best event which was the ribbon apparatus. Akira Sato, the vice-captain, stopped him in the hallway. Just his luck!

“Tsukishima, you’re not in your team jacket. Are you trying to sneak off again?” he said, lifting a brow.

Tsukishima stopped dead on his tracks.

“I have to- I got - ribbon finals-“ he stuttered to his senior.

Tsukki guiltily gritted his teeth, “Please Sato-san, it will just be a few minutes. The performance will last less than two minutes. I’ve already missed some events. This is the last one.”

“Please cover for me.” he pleaded. Tsukki was not one to plead, but he was getting desperate.

Sato patted him at the back, “The game’s over now so you can go. In fact you got me really curious so I’ll go with you!” Sato smiled and ran by Tsukki’s side.

They passed a few team mates on the hallway on their way to Court C, where Kaori’s competition was held and Sato managed to invite them to come watch with them including Seiji.

“I think Tsukishima’s gymnast girlfriend is competing! Let’s go cheer her on guys.” he called out.

“Sato-san—“ said Tsukki, mortified. Thank god they weren’t in the public halls. He would have died of embarrassment.

“With all due respect to the sport and organizers Tsukki, there doesn’t seem to be a lot of people in that court. We have to bring our own cheer squad.” he said, winking.

A few of them were approached by fans as they passed the part of the city gymnasium that was open to the public, but most of them made it into the darkened court where Kaori’s was performing. They had gotten there just in time to see her walk in after her name was called out. Seiji, who managed to snag a program guide on the way, looked up the time slot to see who was performing. The vice captain captain quickly seated everyone at the rows nearest to the exit. The team clapped on cue following Tsukki’s lead when Kaori settled into her starting pose.

“Tsukishima said something about ribbons,” said Sato, reading the guide with Seiji.

“What’s her last name?” said Konegawa trying to read through the program guide in the dark, peering over Seiji’s shoulder, “Miya something right?”

“She’s not really my girlfriend - ” Tsukki interjected.

“Oh, competing for the Sendai University team. You two go to the same university. It’s her, isn’t it?” confirmed Seiji, pointing at the guide.

“Miyahara Kaori sounds like the name they just announced, must be her.” said Konegawa, scanning through the guide to see if there was a name just like hers.

“Only cheer when the routine is over. If we cheer too loudly during the performance, they might get distracted.” he snapped.

Tsukki felt hot in the face and folded his arms. He shot a dirty look at Akira Sato, who only chuckled and turned his eyes onto the floor where all the lights were pointed.

As soon as Kaori began her routine, the team behaved themselves. It was a traditional Japanese folk song recomposed as a classical music piece expanded through chords in the style of classical music. The piece began with the familiar opening melancholic notes of the original song.

The music progressed to undulating waves, emulating the rise and fall of a cool spring breeze. The pace picked up a couple minutes in, whipping petals that were frolicking in the wind. The petals basked in a state of in-between. They had fallen off their branches, but they had not yet touched the ground. Although the music was steadily building, a segment of the piece devoid of its thick chords played with gentle, tingling notes. The piano sounded like hope.

The piece brought Tsukki back into his Modern Art class where he saw Kaori in his classroom for the first time. The utter shock of seeing her after three years washed over him as he stood at the doorway. She was completely unconscious of him, going over her syllabus in her own desk. The sight of her filled him renewed hope. For a moment, all the pain he had felt about her sudden departure erased itself.

Tsukki walked around in shock for two days. He felt as if he had been wandering around the campus, unable to focus on any task at hand. He couldn’t believe it. She was back and she seemed happier too. He had prayed to the gods. He pleaded that if they truly listened to the prayers of mortals, they would hear him, that they would keep Kaori safe and that he would be able to see her again. He was beyond overjoyed that his prayers were answered.

Kaori responded beautifully to the music jumping to the swells and catching her ribbon to the correct beat of the music. He watched her. He couldn’t help feeling like the piece was about her return. His mind ran through the memory of seeing her in class again, reliving his joy and relief.

The team was completely enamored. They gasped when she leaped and threw her ribbon. They oohed and ahed when she did any of her spins and standing splits. When she finished there was a moment of dead silence. It was as if the entire audience held their breath, unable to believe that the routine was over. Tsukki was quiet too. The silence slowly transported him back to the audience.The ambient noise of the court had melted off and he could only look at her softly.

The team clapped and cheered enthusiastically when they realized the routine ended.

“She’s so good!” commented Seiji to Tsukki.

“That was so beautiful, Miyahara-san!” yelled Konegawa.

Kaori squinted in their direction during her bows. Tsukki felt obliged to unfold his arms and wave at her sheepishly. He could die of embarrassment right now. His team mates cheered even louder. He wanted to bury himself onto the ground. After she exited, the team quickly scrambled back outside to meet fans and do a bit of press.

Sato urged everyone to not say anything about where they went until they hit the bus. He didn’t want their coach in a foul mood just yet and besides it was unlikely that they would notice where the went anyways because they were only gone for 10 minutes.

“Thank you for doing this Sato-san,” bowed Tsukki as they jogged back.

Sato jogged in contemplative silence, replying to Tsukki a few seconds later.

“No, thank you Tsukishima. That was very beautiful. You were right to want to see it. I won’t forget her performance any time soon.” he said in a hushed voice.

“She’s hoping to perfect the program for her spring competitions.” he nodded gratefully, Tsukki was surprised by Sato’s reaction. It wasn’t just him who was moved. Hopefully his vice-captain would help him sneak out again should he need to.

“If she’s competing again sometime in spring, when the sakura are ready to bloom, I would like to see that performance again. If you don’t mind,” Sato added.

Before they began loading the bus, Konegawa saw a gymnast with the Sendai University varsity uniform walk around flowers in hand medals around her neck taking pictures with a young fan. He nudged Sato and asked him if that was indeed Miyahara-san. Sato approached her and asked her for her name. When they confirmed it was indeed her, they called over their other team mates who watched her perform to congratulate her.

“Miyahara-san, we loved your performance! It was so cool! I’ve never seen anything like it before.” cried Konegawa.

“Excuse him,” apologized Sato at Konegawa’s casualness, “We loved your performance. We hope you could allow us to congratulate you.”

The team flocked Kaori. Tsukki was more than mortified at the sound of Konegawa’s public announcement. They asked for a quick photo with Kaori. She found it hilarious when they dragged Tsukishima into the photo against his will. His eyes were wide with panic when Sato pushed him to the front for the picture.

Kaori excused herself and ran back into her bus. The whole situation amused her and she had no idea how it came to be. Tsukki promised to try to catch at least one event even though she had said it was alright that he missed her competition. In her mind she imagined him sneaking out on his own. It was totally unexpected that his team would involve themselves into the ordeal. Nevertheless she was quite touched that he had showed up like he promised. She was so excited that he had seen her at her best event that she could hardly sleep on the way home.

On the bus back to the Sendai Frog’s home gym, members of the team that had watched Kaori gathered around Tsukki to interrogate him about Kaori.

“How did you meet her?” asked Seiji.

“She moved into the house beside ours during Junior High. She moved out during High School.” he answered.

“Ohmygod, you’re childhood sweethearts!” squealed Konegawa, with his hand on his heart. Despite his towering height, Konegawa had a happy-go-lucky nature and was a softie. He loved tropes like childhood sweethearts.

“No, well actually she moved away during High School. She moved back to do college gymnastics during college.” clarified Tsukki. They certainly did not date during High School.

“You mentioned she had a team…can you ask her to introduce us to her team? I bet they’re also graceful fairies! I’ve always wanted to date a gymnast. That would be so cool! We could watch each other’s competitions.” waxed another teammate.

“I mean Tsukki didn’t exactly get to watch her and she missed his entire game because she had her own competition. If you wanted to date someone who would always be at your games, maybe you should look for someone else.” said Seiji, calmly scrolling on his phone on the chair opposite to Tsukki.

At the front of the bus, Sato sat beside their captain, Koki Hino. He turned to their vice-captain and asked what the commotion was about. Sato skimmed through the events of the day and mentioned that Tsukishima’s girlfriend was in the stadium and some of the members had met her.

“Tsukishima has a girlfriend? Did I hear that right?” said Hino, shaking his head in disbelief. He had suspected that some of his teammates had girlfriends, but Tsukishima was not one of them.

“I was surprised too!” laughed Sato, “Although if we’re being honest everyone is equally shocked.” --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was 2 am in the morning. Kaori had just woken up. After she got home from her competition, she only had enough energy to eat dinner and take a quick shower before falling asleep on her tatami floor. She checked the time on her phone. The dishes were still on the table and she hadn’t even laid out her futon bed. She got up, washed the dishes and unfurled her bed.

Her phone buzzed with a message from Tsukki, “Can’t sleep, let me know if you’re up.”

Kaori: I’m up finishing some chores.

Tsukki: Can I call?

Kaori hesitated. She put her dishes on the rack. She put on her headphones and tucked herself in between the blankets.

Kaori: Sure. What’s the matter?

Tsukki quietly rolled out of his bed and put on a warm jacket. He headed outside making sure to close the bedroom door carefully as to not wake his brother up. He dialed her number and waited for her to pick up. He was speaking in hushed tones.

“Hey, Kaori,” he said.

“Tsukki, are you still in your bedroom? You sound like your whispering. ” she said, unconsciously hushing her tone.

“No, I’m outside the bedroom but still inside the house.” he replied, “Anyways, I can’t stop thinking about your solo ribbon performance and the music you used. I don’t know why.”

Tsukki placed himself the furthest away from the bedroom door, which was the corner of the house with the telephone. Unbothered by how cold the living room was with the heater turned off, he sat crouched by his brother’s bookshelf.

“Today was an especially good competition day.” she admitted.

“Everything I did was going super well, even I knew I could feel that I was balanced and in control of my apparatus.” she nodded, thinking back to how she was hyper-aware of all her performances but without the usual nerves.

“What made you choose that rendition of Sakura, Sakura?” he asked.

“I’m a big fan of Belle Chen. I download all her new releases. Hearing this piece though was a totally soul-stirring experience. I was so moved when I first heard it. That bit in the end where it slows down, picks up then swells? I was crying when I first truly sat down to listen to it. Tears were just pouring. The experience was so visceral.” her voice rang with fervor. It was like she was reliving the first time she heard it. He could almost feel her hairs stand on the back of her neck as she spoke.

“Later, I thought it would be neat to show up to my later spring competitions with Sakura themed-music so there was that too.” she added, cheekily.

“You looked so ethereal during your routine. It was unlike any of your performances I’ve caught.” he breathed slowly, replaying her performance in his head.

“I feel like the music captured the last few years for me you know…? At the end of High School, I thought I had exhausted all my good experiences from gymnastics. I had recovered from my injuries by then and I was even winning some local competitions, but I was ready to move on.

Sendai University made an offer. I was ready to turn it down, but my coach asked me to give my career a shot one last time. I told her I was exhausted. Trying to get back all my difficult skills from when I competed as an elite-level junior had worn me to the ground. I just wanted to dance without feeling like a former shadow of myself.

She said she would work with what I had. No more adding of skills unless I wanted to. I could have more say in my choreography and music. Japanese coaches tend to emphasize on repetitions. Coach has trained abroad so I guess she had a more liberal philosophy to her work. I agreed to come back to Miyagi after that and the rest is history.” she said wistfully.

“I used to think that Sakura was about the impermanence of beauty. It bloomed and then it was blown away, kind of like my career, but listening to the piece reminded me that endings open up new beginnings. I could still find joy in gymnastics even though I was not the gymnast I was. I could still be happy living in Sendai even when it was here that I had experienced many pains. I’m so glad I came back, Tsukki. And her music reminds me of that every time I listen to it.” her voice went quiet.

Tsukki felt slightly taken aback by how Kaori spoke about herself. Although she no longer competed at the elite level, she was still competitive locally. He hated to think that she peaked as an elite junior and implying that the lack of difficulty in her routine made her a lesser athlete.

“I mean you were not as technical, but it’s not like you aren’t better than before. You’re competing more freely because you’re not constantly on the brink of injury. You’re not pressured to keep a certain weight as much. Also, you’re closing out your career with an equally passionate team. You’ve spent six years in high school competing against everyone else. Isn’t this more fun way to discover your love for gymnastics?

You moved the entire audience. They forgot to clap because of you. Everyone was in awe. Competing in the elite is not the end all be all of your career. Aren’t you much happier now?”

Kaori was quiet on the other line, “You’re right. I guess I am better now and healthier and happier. Competing in college is great. I chose Sakura, Sakura you know. This would never have happened in high school.”

“So is your comeback the memory you’d place with this piece?” he asked.

She shook her head. He could hear the rustling of her hair against the phone. “I don’t want to attach a memory to this piece just yet because I don’t think the memory that is right for this has come yet. Maybe the memory isn’t completed yet. I don’t know I want to save it for the future.”

“While listening to this piece, do you have a memory that you would score this piece to?” she asked. By the way he talked, it seemed that he had a strong memory already attached to the music.

Tsukki contemplated in silence before he answered. “After you left, I had a dream while I was still in High School that you had come back. Just before the winter started, I had that dream again,” he gulped and felt the weight of his words as he swallowed, ignoring pounding in his chest.

“When I went into our first class during winter term, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you in the room. We lived our high school careers completely away from each other and now we’re here again. Beginnings and endings were part of a cycle, and I was beginning again.”

When Tsukki saw Kaori, he wanted to yell of joy, pain and relief. He walked around in shock and disbelief for two days. Despite his real feelings, he wanted to maintain a facade of indifference.

“You go here now?” were his first words to her. It was like nothing had happened as he settled on a desk beside her.

“I couldn’t believe it. I thought I must be dreaming.” he said, shaking his head.

“I was so happy that you were back and healthy. I couldn’t care less if you were with someone else or whatever. It was like all this time you were gone I couldn’t breathe and you just sitting there made me realize how much I worried about you. I was so relieved just to be able to see you.” Tsukki realized he was rambling, but he had bottled up for so long. The words were pouring out his mouth like a release.

There was a moment of silence before Kaori spoke up again.

“Have you ever been upset that I’ve ruined your peace by coming back?” she asked curiously in a hushed voice.

“Of course not. I would never say no to you coming back to my life.” he said earnestly.

“That’s very kind of you.” she said softly.

“No, I mean it. It was devastating when you left, but I was also too young to know how to help you if you had stayed. Besides Tokyo seems great, I wouldn’t want to deprive you of your time there.” he smiled to himself.

Towards the end of her time in Miyagi back then, a cloud constantly weighed over Kaori. She tried to hide it yet Tsukki easily saw through it. Kaori was silent on the other line. What he said was true. He wouldn’t know how to help her through her ordeals at that time, but his earnestness of his well wishes surprised her. She had hurt him and yet his biggest worry about her safety and health.

“Are ever you worried that happiness - this happiness we’re feeling now is impermanent?” she asked, “Aren’t you scared you don’t know if all this will suddenly disappear?”

Tsukki’s joy at her return was plain of course. However, if things won’t pan out well between them she feared that he would have been through an emotional rollercoaster for nothing. Tsukki nodded. He realized she couldn’t see him so he answered yes.

“All the time,” he murmured. “I’m scared because I don’t know how this will last, but I’m so glad you’re back. I can’t even begin to describe the happiness I feel even if that means I have something to lose again.” he swallowed hard.

Kaori could feel his fear, his ecstasy, his anxieties and his hope rushing through her veins as she listened to him over the phone. She hated to hear the distress in his voice.

“Kei, I said I’m not going anywhere soon, ok? I’ll tell you when I have to go this time so you can come with me. I’m so sorry, please don’t cry.” she pleaded.

“I never thought we’d get to this point, where I get to see you when you come back.” he was choking up. The dryness in his throat cracked his voice.

“I could hold your hand right now...” she whispered, intently listening to him.

“Hey, don’t be sad…we have many springs to score right? The one this year has passed, but we have the one next year and the year after that and so on…and we can go to Aichi, Nagoya some day.” she rambled, trying to cheer him up.

“And live in a house where we won’t have to move so you can have your own bookshelf.” he said softly.

“We’ll do just that.” she whispered, nodding in silence.

“I love you…so so much…” his expression softened. He closed his eyes as he felt his tears warm his face. He could hear her steady breathing on the phone.

When Kaori first met Tsukki, he was just her next door neighbor. She had never imagined that she would spend every morning walking to school or endless afternoons running around Miyagi. Kaori moved many times during her living but leaving Miyagi had been the hardest. Signing her contract with the university filled her with apprehension and excitement, knowing that she might see him again. And here they were now calling in the middle of the night, in between spring competitions toiling away in their fall season just as they did when they were younger.

When Kaori finally put down the phone, she briefly glanced at the ticket with his signature on the cork board and today’s medals on her desk. When she gets her own bookshelf, those have to make it into the trinkets section too.

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Deleted scene:

He thought back to his dream where he was walking along the hallways of Karasuno High School on his way back to the classroom from the canteen. His left hand was throbbing in pain. During his prefectural’s final match, he injured himself while blocking a spike but earned his team’s ticket to Nationals. His hand had been feeling better, but his pain reminded him that he had not healed. Before he steps foot into the classroom, Kaori from the next class appears. He stops his steps.

“Tsukki, how is your hand?” she asks.

He weaves his way into his seat and sets his lunch down on his desk. She follows him and pulls a chair to sit across him. He glances at his hand, his pinky was still taped, splintered with his ring finger. The tape was running across his wrist and over his hand to protect his dislocated finger.

He nodded, “It’s getting better though, thanks for asking.” He looks down on his desk, suddenly bashful.

“Good luck with Nationals. It’s going to be great. Everyone’s so excited for the team.” she said. She takes his hand into hers and gently inspects his injury. Her other hand moves to cover his hand.

Tsukki holds her right hand between his hands. His heart was beating a hundred miles a second. He was nervous as hell. He kept his eyes on her hand. People were staring - he was so sure of it he didn’t even need to look up. He just wanted to be able to keep holding her. His heart beat faster and faster. Just as he has the courage to look up into her eyes. He wakes up. Tsukki was too embarrassed to tell her the entirety of his recurring dream. His cheeks turned pink just at the thought of it.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fanfic #hq fanfic #hq x y/n #hq x you #hq x reader #hq tsukishima #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x oc #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #hq imagines

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imaslowlearner-butilearn · 4 years

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character thingy - buffy summers!

Give me a character and I will answer:

Why I like them:

This is gonna be a longggggg list lmfao. I love her strong sense of morality (not that that’s necessary for me to like a character of course!), I love her puns and her sense of humor in general, I love how fiercely she protects women and also just won’t put up with men’s bullshit!! I love how she’s an absolutely TERRIBLE liar/improviser. She has an unbelievable capacity for forgiveness and compassion. I love how she’s super in-control of her super strength except in when she’s like, hugging someone or trying to get soft serve ice cream. It’s so cute. Okay i’m done. She’s one of my favorite characters of all time in case that wasn’t clear

Why I don’t

Uhhhhhh N/A

Favorite episode (scene if movie)

Oh god. This is so hard. Pretty much every single season finale, I would say. Especially Grave, Becoming: Part 2, and Chosen!

Favorite season/movie

Oof, this is really hard because there isn’t a season that I don’t love her in. I suppose, even though I’m not a huge fan of season 6 in general, I do really love seeing the emotional/mental health progress she makes throughout the season!

Favorite line

It’s hard to choose just one but the first one that comes to mind at least is “I’m the thing that monsters have nightmares about. And right now, you and me are gonna show them why.”

Favorite outfit

I LOVE all of her turtlenecks. And her leather jackets and leather pants. I’m not a huge fan of her wardrobe in general but her season 5 wardrobe is my favorite

OTP

This will surprise absolutely no one: SPUFFY!!!!! Pretty much my favorite ship ever

Brotp

Her and Willow! They obviously have their rough patches but they care about each other so much and that friendship remains intact throughout all seven seasons

Head Canon

That after everything that happens in Chosen, she gets to go back and finish college! She just seemed to enjoy it so much and seemed to really thrive there and I wish she had gotten to finish it.

Unpopular opinion

Lol probably just that I don’t really like most of her clothes as much as a lot of people seem to

A wish

I’m not sure how this could’ve been accomplished but overall I just wish that the slayerhood hadn’t been so isolating for her. Maybe if she had gotten to spend more time with other slayers this couldve been different (haven’t read the comics so idk)

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen

Uhhh i can only think of ship-related things at the moment but I would not be happy if she and Xander ever became a thing

5 words to best describe them

Resilient, badass, punny, forgiving, selfless

My nickname for them

Don’t have one

Thank you friendddddd <3 <3 <3

#rose #rad mutuals #asks #ask memes #replies #buffy summers #btvs

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secretsantasides · 4 years

Text

Gift #3

Gift for @do-you-promise

Prompt: Intrumas, Cryptid AU. (Note: this is just chapter 1 - more of this story will be posted after the name reveal in January!)

Thomas had never wanted to be a fisherman.

That was it. That was the statement. He had never wanted it and he did not enjoyed it. His whole family was full of them, he always thought that they could spare him and let him get into an adventure, all on his own, making his own choices. Obviously his father had hated that idea.

“All of the Sanders’ men had been Fishermen” He stated, clearly not giving Thomas a way out and shutting his idea down of going anywhere else “It’s the family business, the town needs us to get the fish and the exchanges with the other ports. It’s a honorable job”

He had fought back, saying that it was not the job he was running (even though it was) but that he wanted to create something of his own as his grandparents had done with their business (even though it was definitely not). But his father kept saying no to him. Every plead, every question, even every suggestion, those were shut down.

Never in an aggressive way, never making him feel less, but there was always a no.

So Thomas had taken the job.

It wasn’t all that bad, he got to spend time with his brother, Logan, every day, and even if he had a home and person to come back and Thomas not, Logan never made him feel bad or less.

They were almost the same age. Logan just being two years older than him. Logan was taller and slimmer, he used glasses and he combed his hair every single day to go to work. Thomas had always thought that he would choose another job, something other than fisherman, just like him, but he didn’t. Logan was the best his family had seen when in school, their parents even payed for him to go to college and study administration to help with all the numbers and movements of their job, but in the end Logan stood by his side.

When he came back from college and saw Thomas, who had decided that if he was not studying any kind of science, then college was not for him, working in the port with the nets to go fish, he had decided to work with him above the boats. He had given the excuse of wanting to do some “field work” before being confined to a desk, and their parents got as excited as they could have get.

A year and 9 months later, Logan got married to his college boyfriend, Damien Menti, and then they were living together. Logan started to work part time inside the offices and the other time outside in the boats with Thomas and the crew.

Thomas was glad that Logan stood by his side. He knew that Logan hated the boats and the smell of the raw fish, but he still went at least 3 days a week to be a moral support to Thomas. And he was always going to be glad for that.

Thomas was the complete opposite of everything Logan was. Messy, with few aspirations, not much in the school department. Lonely.

His family was great, and he knew that he could always count on them if he needed something. Even Damien had become a essential part of their family, he always tried to help Thomas with whatever he needed, the man even tried to persuade his father to let him get a year of off work, to let him see the world. His father of course hadn’t liked the idea and, as everything, shut it down, but Thomas was glad than at least Logan’s husband hadn’t been bad at all.

That didn’t mean that he was close-close with any other than his brother.

The crew in the boats was another story completely. Thomas barely even talked to them, least of all if he was alone without Logan. They were extended family, sure, uncles, aunts. cousins, but he didn’t know them. Logan wasn’t a social person either, he was probably worse at socializing than he was, but at least he knew what to say and how to make sure that everyone was doing their job as they should.

Someday, when his father retired, Thomas was going to be the one that had to lead the crew. And in that day he only hoped that the earth swallowed him whole and let anyone else do the job that he was going to suck at.

“Thinking about your misery again?” Logan came from behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder and taking him out of his trance.

The water, the ocean, the blue. Thomas only wished he was watching it on a ship towards adventure, not when he was waiting for the nets to pick some fish.

“I just don’t like this” Thomas hadn’t meant it to sound as a whine, but honestly? he didn’t care right now.

“Does anyone?” Logan smirked at him and Thomas rolled his eyes.

“Have I presented you my dad?” Thomas said while straightening up “Fish are beautiful and magnificent beings. We need to be careful with them, even if they’re food and we kill them, they still need to live in their habitat. We’re like their natural prey, maintaining the order in their ecosystem where-”

“Oh God, cut it out!” Logan started laughing and shifting his eyes to the other side of the boat, where their father and one of his uncles where talking about new ways and positions where they could fish “He really enjoys this, doesn’t he?”

“I sometimes think that maybe he was forced to work on this just as us, and then I hear him talking about the powerful ways of the banks of fish, and everything’s back to normal”

Logan chuckled and went to grab a second net from the pile that was thrown in the boat and Thomas turned to see the ocean again. They had been there for almost four hours and only one of the boats had gotten a bunch of fishes.

It was weird, usually the boats caught fish faster than this.

Thomas found himself daydreaming again. Thinking in an adventure when they had to go get back all the fishes, who were kidnapped by and evil shark or something.

Thomas chuckled to himself, 30 years old, fisherman, daydreaming like a kid. Everyone needed some amusement from time to time, right?

“Thomas help me set the net!” Logan shouted.

“Coming!” Thomas yelled back, breathing the smell of salt water and preparing mentally for another 2 hours of waiting to fish something.

And when Thomas turned around, he had to turn back again to face the water. Because he could have swore he saw green tentacles swimming away from the boat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why were you on the chore again?”

Remus always thought that Roman had a stick up his ass, all day, and not in the nice way.

He had never liked Remus going near humans. Usually saying things like “they don’t like us” and “many of us had died at their hands”. Remus didn’t say that it was fake, that Roman only said those things to him to scare him from the human world, but he did call bullshit to not even being able to study them.

There had also been a couple of humans that had actually seen Remus and had also run away screaming at his sight (being half octopus usually made people have that reaction). But he didn’t care! He was good, and if he could inflict some terror on a couple of humans, then they wouldn’t dare mess around with him. It was that easy.

Of course Roman didn’t saw it that way.

Mermans and mermaids like him had it worse.

Fishermen usually liked hunting for them as a matter of pride. Showing people the scales of a beast that had escaped their hands, half fish, half human. Remus had listened to some humans talk about it on the late nights that they explored the oceans.

They never got to really caught any of their people, usually they harmed them bad enough to kill them, but magic was on their side. Mermans and mermaids weren’t the most magical beings on the ocean, they were actually considered one of the weakest.

Intelligent? Yes. Strongest? Not so much.

But they still had tricks under their sleeves, and even if humans had had sightings of them, they usually managed to escape. Not always survive, but escape.

So Roman didn’t like Remus getting near them. He knew that Remus could defend himself, his octopus half permitted him more access to magic than to a merman, but he said that it was still dangerous.

“Remus” Roman called him again, when he noticed that Remus wasn’t planning on answering.

“They never see me, Roman” Remus sometimes thought that Roman was just too scared to just grow up and stand their ground “And, even if they did, it’s not something that I can’t handle”

“You don’t know that”

“Oh, only because you don’t know that dear brother doesn’t mean that I don’t know my own capacities” Remus smirked and turn to go to his home.

“I don’t want you dead Remus, is my job to protect everyone under my power”

Roman was not wrong.

Their father had been one of the best kings the ocean had ever seen. He had also been a merman, married to a mermaid. Roman and Remus had born the same day, twins of the ocean, but neither of their parents ever knew why they had had a merman and a cecaelia as their sons. Cecaelias were not usual, their people claimed them to mean destruction and death. So they hid Remus from the public eye, still raising him as his own, but never telling anyone that they had more than one son.

So the throne and palace went to Roman when their parents died, and Remus, who didn’t want to be confined to live on the palace the rest of his life, found a cave and made it his own.

He had been planning on just escaping. He had hated his parents for locking him inside the castle. Not being able to interact with nothing more than the servants that had pled loyalty to the royal family, it had been torture for him. So when they finally died, and he decided to just live on his own, he was ready to turn his back to the place that had never been his home.

But Roman had asked him to not go. They had been close. Granted there had been a couple of years when Remus couldn’t even stand to be near the prodigy son, but with time he understood that it had never been Roman’s fault, and when they were little they used to play all the time together. So he accepted to stay as long as he could live at the outsides of the kingdom.

It was better for everyone after all.

“Good thing that I don’t even live here, your Majesty” Remus said mockingly, before swimming to the kitchen of the palace, ready to escape through one of the back doors.

People that lived in the palace and knew about Remus never really cared about him. They just turn their eyes to the other side when he passed, and, when they thought that Remus wasn’t looking, they made a small pray to Poseidon, to purify them from the evil that was Remus and what he represented.

So Remus was fine going to the chore and look at humans. If humans looked back at him in terror, it was not something that he wasn’t used to by now.

However, he was going back again that night. He liked one specific view that appeared around midnight.

#fanfic #intrumas #cryptid au #thomas sanders #logan sanders #ts logan #remus sanders #ts remus #roman sanders #ts roman #sanders sides #secretsantasides

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itsmeglendaloraine · 4 years

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It Truly Takes Pain to Gain

When I was in high school, I thought I figured out life. I had laid all my plans: what I’m going to do, what career I’m going to pursue, what job I will be having, when will I get married, and so on. The dream of getting married became more inspiring when I had my first boyfriend when I was fifteen. But turns out, that boyfriend broke my heart. Not once. Not twice. But, three times.

Then, I met the second one when I was a freshman in college. We were together for almost a year. But the same with the first, it never turned out well. And my poor heart was broken again. The time we’re together was no match with the time that I had to pick myself up after all the bits and pieces of me that were shattered from the relationship.

And so I have this writing. This is all about the takeaways of my past relationships. This is for the men who broke my heart. For all the heartaches and pain, broken promises and plans together, for the memories, thank you.

To that boy who I thought would be my husband at fifteen,

I remember you when I hear this line from Taylor Swift’s song entitled “Fifteen”,

“When you’re fifteen/ Somebody tells you they love you/ You got to believe them”.

Because I did! At that young age, I was so sure about us. I even re-designed my perfectly laid plans for you. I learned to break my parent’s rules because I thought you were worth fighting for. Because that time, I really thought so. I am very much hopeful of our future together.

I thought I knew “love” at that time. You gave me the giddy feelings of teenage life. Since I was the very serious only-academics-girl then, I never looked forward to those feelings at all but you gave that to me. So, I guess I’m one lucky girl!

We broke up for a couple of times. First was when I said something that offended you. I was so naïve at that time because how am I supposed to know what I should do when you’re the first one. Second, was during our summer vacation. You broke up with me again for no apparent reason. Later I found out that you met another girl while in a relationship with me. That time, I had experienced being cheated on. But when we got back to school, I accepted you again. (Haaayyy, those innocence and stupidity days) Then in a span of over a year, you were so good declaring your love to me while playing it cool cheating on me. I came to a point when I had enough. I broke up with you before Valentine’s day and roughly a month later, I learned that you had moved on with my friend whom you had some “whatsoever” relationship while still technically, committed to me.

For how many years later, the pain you caused me turned into something beautiful and precious and memorable. In a way, that when I remember you, I don’t recall the bad things at all. No matter how awful they were. All I can think of are the lessons you “unintentionally” taught me. I already forgiven you a very long time ago.

Funny, because I thought I will be your most loving wife. And recently I heard that you have your own family now. Good thing that you and I parted ways. Because if that so happened, I will not be able to meet the man who truly deserved to be called my “future husband”. You were my first love and my first heartbreak. With all those things that you’ve done to me and all the learnings our time together had taught me, a heartfelt “thank you”.

And as what Ariana Grande’s famous “moving on” song says, “Thank you, next”. Here is for the next one.

To the one I thought I finally got it right but ended up being worse,

I recalled that I hated you more that I liked or loved you. I really thought I was making the right decision than the first but you ended up worse. You broke my heart, said hurtful and mean words and played with my feelings. Over and over.

I met you during my early college days (those times that I was badly mending my broken heart). And somehow, you became a way for me to move on with that bad breakup. But along the way, you annoyingly played with my feelings. But I don’t want to curse you because somehow, you changed my life. We were only together for almost a year but the span of time that I had to move on from you was more than the time we’re officially together. You never said sorry. You never even admitted, for once and for all, that you did something bad. You keep pointing fingers at me; saying a lot of hurtful words to your friends about me to the point that I questioned myself if I’m that not worthy of love and even respect from you.

You basically took advantage of me. You only visited me if you have some paperwork that you need me to do, without even asking me how I was. Our relationship turned out to be emotionally and mentally draining. And it was like that for almost a year until I found the courage to end it one August night.

I’m very sorry to say but I never had joyful memories with you. I think it was just me pretending all the time that I was happy yet the truth is, it was a total waste of time and effort. And mostly, it shattered me into pieces. I still remember those times when I was trying my best to slowly move on from you and yet, you kept on bugging me, you had unexpected and random visits, and, sending greetings through a common friend. That is why it took me so long to totally removed you out of my system then! Because, you intentionally played with my feelings! I also reached to a point when I had to talk to you one night and for so long, I let my heart out. I vented out everything: my frustrations, my anger, how you were that bad and all the crazy stuff. I was hoping that you will admit your wrong doings that time, asked for forgiveness so that I can peacefully move forward. But you never did. You were the same proud young man who never accepted his mistakes and put all the blame on me. You even said I was just “too pathetic” and “too emotional”.

I guess, I was the unluckiest girl then. My bad. But, your bad.

Despite with all of that, I learned the most courageous thing for me to do. I had learned to forgive you even when you did not ask for it. The thing is, I was just too passive when I was with you because I thought it could turn out well. But yeah, as they say, “life happens”.

I never heard anything from you now. But I hope you are doing well. I hope you are happy. And I hope you already found that girl that you wished me to be because, I already found the man who never points out my flaws and mistakes and failures, but instead, loves them. He was the one who uplifts my spirit and builds my self-esteem up when I almost have nothing left because of you. And so, for all those crazy and difficult times, thank you. Thank you for making me realize that I deserve better and I can do better without you.

-----------------

Everything that I’ve learned, I give the credit to these men. For without them, I won’t be able to feel emotions like being happy in a time and dealing with the heartache later. Oh! How precious they were! I never have known that I have the capacity to be broken and be whole again. Another quote says, “no pain, no gain”. I have indeed gained a lot of breakthroughs from the pain of those breakups.

And to all who courted and tried to court me but never pursued, thank you also. Because if I had settled to any of you, I never would have met the man who consistently and persistently pursued and waited for me until I was ready. It was never easy to put back the pieces of a broken heart. But once it’s done, there is an extra glue that keeps it stronger and better ready enough to cater the wonders of the uncertainty of tomorrows. Unexpectedly, my heart is well guarded and well taken cared of now. That’s why I had this on writing. I thank those who have broken my heart before because now I realized that it was meant for me to be prepared for this love that I have now for six years. And, counting.

And to the person reading this, I hope you find the courage to never degrade yourself just to make a wrong relationship to work and just to keep the person who is not worth keeping. I hope you’ll never forget of your worth; that you deserve someone that loves you dearly, with all of your flaws and weaknesses, with all your insecurities and failures. And if it so happens that you are in the bad situation right now, I pray that you will not wait a longer time to come out of that situation. Never try to make changes just because someone needs you to. Because the right person will never, ever ask you to change for him/her but rather, inspires you to change for the better in order for you to become the best version of yourself. Never forget that you are worthy of love and respect and that you are more than enough. Nothing is wrong with you because you are perfectly and beautifully made by God. After all, God does not want you to suffer. He wants you to be happy. Fight for it. There are just some people who don’t respect you but never forget to love and respect yourself.

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you-guys--are-losers · 5 years

Note

If your still accepting prompts I would love if you could do one where Peter or Michelle is hooked up to a heart monitor and they kiss which makes it beat really fast. I love your work💕

I’m sorry, love, this has taken me a LONG time to get to. But I’m finally in the mood to get back into the author’s seat, so here’s hoping this turns out alright? Even if it doesn’t, know I love you and this was my best shot! XD

Vital

Just to put things into perspective: Peter is pretty used to being terrified.

There’s been the battle against Captain America himself, who Peter had only seen in his health class videos when he first fought at Tony Stark’s side. Then there was the fact that one of his personal heroes had been joined by the Winter Soldier himself, Falcon, Scarlet Witch, and, among others, a guy who could grow to be the size of a small yacht.

Number two on the list was Vulture, who had been somehow even more terrifying than the team of opponents Peter had faced before. At least in his first battle, Peter had known that, more or less, the people on both sides were “good guys.” They were fighting, yeah, but they weren’t aiming to kill. Vulture had been another category entirely– Peter had been warned firsthand that Big Bird’s metallic cousin would bury him alive without a dent to his conscience.

Then, somehow, it had gotten worse. Factor in a big, purple asshole, a handful of elementals, and Mysterio himself, and by his third year out of college it has been established that Peter is used to being scared witless. He has faced odds that would have made the most experienced hero quake in their boots, and he has done it since his sophomore year of high school. Now, he’s three years out of college, and even more has been added to that list to get him used to panic.

So when it is said that this is the most alarmed Peter has ever been, the record should reflect that he is scared shitless.

When they went for a run around the compound together, Peter wasn’t expecting to have his afternoon land him in the med bay. He was expecting the usual: a workout with MJ, some witty banter, probably a rant against capitalist society as a whole. He had been looking forward to it, to the routine that he has grown to cling to.

MJ is his stability in all of the chaos. It is a whole new life– a whole new part of the massive city he grew up in, a new job that demands more of his mental capacity than anything has before, and an even more difficult balancing routine between superhero-ing. She’s had her chaos, too, trying to work her way up as a news producer and to remain as active and passionate as she always has before. But they have each other, they have their way-too-expensive apartment, and that’s enough. She’s enough.

And now, she’s lying in a bed in some room deeper in the facility, and Peter is stuck outside. He can’t shut off the noises. The symphony of beeping monitors and dropping liquid from deeper within the building is undercut by a pulse of his own inhale, exhale. It is this rhythm that keeps Peter calm as he thinks about some doctor looking over his girlfriend, the woman that Peter loves more than anything.

As he sits in the chair in the waiting room, his mind keeps replaying the events leading up to this, the occurrence that brought her to the bed. Is this his fault? Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed her while they were running. He knows that her body doesn’t have the modifications his does, but– well, he thought he was taking it slow, damn it! She’s had no trouble keeping up with him before, so when MJ began to lag behind, Peter thought that perhaps she hadn’t been hydrated enough.

He can see it in his mind’s eye: her messy curls, some damp with sweat, flopping with each beat of her feet against the sidewalk. Her t-shirt from Colombia was a little sweatier than it normally was, but then it was also warmer than usual as they took the same path they always did. Peter had scoured her face, wondering if maybe they needed to take a cool-down, and had slowed to a stop.

In response to his curious glance, MJ had waved a hand at him, rolling her eyes. “Please, Parker, don’t let that big ego get the best of you. We both know that I have no problem keeping up with you, I’m superhuma-”

She had not finished the sentence before a shadow crossed her face, and then her eyes were rolling back into her head and her legs were dropping out from under her. Peter had been there to catch her, but when he had, her body was limp in his arms. Her skin had been clammy– how had he not noticed that when they were holding hands before?– when he patted her face in an attempt to rouse her. When that failed, he had brought her to the medbay as quickly as possible, and then he had not gotten up from this chair after they took her from his sight.

What if she wasn’t okay? What if he was stuck in this chair forever, just waiting?

The thought only has a few moments to torment Peter before the door across the room opens, and Peter stands immediately. A young doctor steps through, a clipboard in hand, and her eyes find Peter just as he opens his mouth to speak. Before he can get a word out, however, she interrupts him.

“She’s just woken up, Mr. Parker,” the young woman says, her voice as firm as it is youthful. She must be the same age as he and MJ, maybe younger. But she is here on one of Stark’s scholarships, so Peter trusts her.

“Can I see her?” Peter’s voice is tight in his throat as he forces the question out, and he swears that the young woman’s brown eyes warm slightly.

“Of course you may,” she responds, turning around. “Follow me, sir.”

She doesn’t have to ask twice. The doctor leads Peter down a short hall and to the glass patient rooms, but the brief walk could not take longer. MJ is in the first room, seated in a bed that faces the door. Peter catches her eye through the wall, and he feels his breath leave him in one relieved sigh. Peter’s legs carry him of their own accord through the door, brushing him past the doctor to bring him to her side.

MJ turns her face as he approaches the side of her bed, peering into his eyes. Her face is slightly ashen, but other than the slight pallor she to her face, she is just MJ. Her eyes hold a hint of embarrassment as Peter meets them.

“Don’t worry, Parker,” she hums, “I’m still gonna be stealing your joggers for quite some time.” Even though her tone is nonchalant, her hand finds his immediately.

Peter laces his fingers with hers, twisting his wrist and bringing the back of her hand to his lips. For just a moment, he brushes his lips against the skin, and she draws in a sharp breath. “Gross,” she comments, wrinkling her nose, but the beeping of the vitals monitor betrays her as it skips a few beats.

“You’re okay,” Peter breathes, lowering her hand. Still, he brings his fingers to touch the band around her wrist, and then he brings his eyes to meet hers again.

“Of course I’m okay,” she answers, her voice serious as she returns his gaze. She knows. She understands that he has lost the people he loves, the people who give his life meaning. She knows that he is terrified of losing people like her. “I just didn’t fill my water all the way up, loser. Normal people’s bodies need water, and I may have forgotten that I am not, in fact, a robot.”

A slight cough interrupts their conversation. Both Peter’s and MJ’s heads turn to face the door, and their eyes find the young doctor who produced the sound at the same time.

“Is something wrong?” Peter asks slowly.

The doctor looks younger than ever now, and her wide eyes jump from Peter, to MJ, to Peter again. “Well, no…” she says slowly, glancing down at the clipboard. Peter is given a distinct impression that she is attempting something that she has not done before. “It’s just… Well. Um, Miss Jones… I have something to share with you, but you may want to speak to me in private.”

MJ’s brow furrows, and Peter glances at her before looking back at the doctor. “Um, I can go,” he suggests slowly. He can tell the woman needs him to leave and isn’t sure how to ask, but there is reluctance in his voice he can’t keep away. He can’t help it– he’s still worried about MJ, and the idea of leaving her side at the moment sounds about as appealing as having to take on the golden-gloved Purple People Eater again.

“No,” MJ says immediately, and Peter can feel her hand grip his a little bit tighter. “You can say whatever you need to in front of him.”

Her tone is calm, simple. Peter is flooded with silent appreciation as he envelops her hand more deeply in his own. She understands his need to be by her side right now, and he knows that she is honoring it because she loves him.

The young doctor clears her throat uncomfortably, and for a moment there is nothing but the sound of the heart monitor as she struggles for words. Finally, after brushing a stray strand of brown hair away from her face, the woman decides on what she wishes to say. “Well… We took blood while you were unconscious, just to make sure that there wasn’t anything to be worried about,” the physician begins slowly.

“Alright,” MJ says, clearly processing the information. “And did the results tell you anything about why I fell?”

“Your hydration levels were fine,” the doctor informs them, clinging to the facts. “It wasn’t your water intake. Um, actually, your blood pressure was low.”

“Oh, that’s all it is?” MJ blinks once or twice, surprised, and then she glances up at Peter. “See, dweeb? You were worried for nothing. Lots of peoples’ blood craps out on them sometimes.”

Peter grins, ready to retort, but then the doctor speaks up again. “Well, um… Not quite.” Both Peter and MJ turn expectantly to her, and the woman seems unsure how to handle being the center of their attention. “I mean– yes, lots of people suffer from low blood pressure, and- and I guess lots of people suffer from your condition, too, but- well, it’s not just low blood pressure.”

MJ’s eyes widen, and Peter feels his heartbeat race. Is she actually sick? The heartbeat monitor begins to speed up, just slightly. MJ grips his hand a little harder now, and he squeezes it comfortingly in return as he questions the doctor.

“What else is it, then?” His voice does hold a sharp edge now, though not an unkind one. MJ is nervous, now, and if there is anything that doctor can say to take the fear out of her eyes, she needs to say it now.

The doctor takes a deep breath, glances down at the chart one last time, and then she raises her gaze to meet MJ’s. Her voice is hesitant, but there is a gleam in her eyes as she blazes ahead.

“You’re pregnant, Miss Jones.” The doctor’s tone is slightly breathless, but a slight note of warmth enters her voice as she repeats her message. “You’re having a baby.”

For a moment, Peter is frozen. MJ’s hand goes completely slack in his, and the beeping of the monitor picks up as the only sound in the room.

Peter is going to be a father.

The thought causes him to draw in a shuddering breath as he struggles to contain the warmth blooming in his chest. A baby, their baby… But is MJ alright? Peter turns to face her, his eyes searching her face desperately. Her expression is completely impassive as she stares straight ahead, capable of seeing nothing but the physician.

“What did you say?”

MJ’s words are soft, breathy. There is a note to them, however, of something Peter has never heard before. “Say it again.”

This time, Peter does not let the doctor repeat herself. His hand, hesitant, rises to her cheek, and when it does, MJ’s deep, dark gaze snaps to his own. Those eyes hold so many emotions as they meet his own, and the waves of feeling lap at him as he stares into them– shock, fear, confusion. Hope.

It is this last gleam in her eye that causes Peter to lightly caress her cheek with his fingers, his own throat becoming constricted as he summons the words. “We’re having a baby, MJ,” he breathes, his words gentle. He does not know what her reaction will be, but he knows as he looks at her that whatever it is, he will respect it.

Still… She is the woman that he loves more than anything in the universe, and the idea of starting a mysterious journey with her is something that awes him to his very core.

For a moment, MJ says nothing. Then, like a few watery rays of sunlight piercing through the clouds, a smile flits across her face.

“We’re having a baby.”

The words, spoken from her lips, are enough to bring him to his knees. Peter crumples to a kneeling position by her bed, taking her hand in both of his own now. The radiant joy that begins to transform her face seems to be shining from within her. Peter has never seen a more beautiful Michelle Jones than the one whose hand he is holding, the one with messy curls dangling around her shoulders and a hospital gown obscuring her form.

Her eyes find him, and when they do, they are positively dancing. A laugh bubbles from her lips as she brings her other hand to meet his, and the sound is enough to fill Peter to brimming with rapture. His eyes sting as he looks up at her, and he knows that this feeling is only the beginning.

His life is going to change forever.

The doctor by the door is smiling, too, though she is trying to hide it. “I’ll leave you two alone,” she hums, tucking the clipboard beneath her arm. “Congratulations.”

The sound of the door closing causes Peter to draw in a shuddering gasp, and he rises to his feet with her hands in his own. “MJ-”

“Shh,” MJ instructs, though her smile only widens as she scours his face, looking to soak up every bit of his happiness to add to her own. “I know, Peter. I know.”

Peter shakes his head, and he knows a few tears are slipping free. The words leave him before he can stop them, and somehow he knows they are the right ones.

“This world isn’t going to know what to do with two perfect Joneses in it.”

MJ’s eyes widen, then, and her smile begins to fade. Peter didn’t think it was possible, but somehow her face betrays more of the pure, radiant joy than before as she looks at him. MJ takes her hands back to reach for him, and Peter is more than willing to comply.

Peter leans over the bed, bringing his face closer to her own. Her arms settle around his neck, and Peter knows that she expects him to close the distance between them, but he is not ready yet. For a moment, Peter maintains the distance, his own hands rising to cup her cheeks. In that moment, his eyes want nothing more than to drink in every bit of her face, to capture the joy and the shock and the wonder forever.

This is the end of everything that Peter has ever known, and it’s the beginning of a life of discovery by MJ’s side.

Peter’s own smile grows, and MJ cannot seem to breathe as she stares into his eyes. The monitor begins to beep faster, and then faster… And then Peter closes the distance, bringing his lips to meet her own.

Peter does not know how long they stay that way, with their lips dancing together in a kiss that speaks to the pure joy they both feel. Peter brings his hands to tangle in her hair, deepening their kiss to speak to the passion that is coursing through him– the passion for her, the passion for them, and the passion for the life that she is bringing into the world.

The life that he gets to be a part of, because somehow the most incredible woman in the world chose him.

The monitor beeps faster, and faster, and faster, and after a moment the young physician reappears at the door, a look of worry on her face as she prepares to check the vitals. However, when she arrives in the doorway, the young woman pauses as a small smile tugs at her lips.

They’re young and they’re in love, and the future may be uncertain. But somehow, the doctor has a feeling that the life that Michelle Jones is bringing into the world is going to be in good hands.

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stephhannes · 4 years

Text

new year, who dis

what would be the use in becoming a symbol of walking desolation? awash in multiple griefs, elaborating on anguish. even if i never get to see you again, i’ll know that when we collided we both broke each other open.

-mount eerie, love without possession

i guess it’s been four months since i’ve sat down to write an actual blog. i figured i should at least try to get something out before the new year.

i’ve tried to write an update a few times over the last couple of months, but every time i tried to write something, it’s just aggressively sad. like that one st. vincent lyric— i try to write you a love song, but it comes out a lament. and while an aggressively sad tone is appropriate to how i’ve been feeling, i’ve been trying to bring less sad energy to the table. (a surprise to everyone, because sad energy is my entire brand).

I planned to get this blog up by january 1st. and then i kept putting it off. hence why this starts off saying things like, “i guess it’s been four months,” and “i figured i should at least try to get something out before the new year.” today is february 4th, which means it’s officially been a year and a half since nathan died.

in the last few weeks, i’ve been under a lot of stress. i’m juggling three jobs right now, and somehow still don’t make enough money to survive. i’m sure that at this point, i’ve described to you my bona-fide money saving technique. it’s called “i only eat three days a week because it’s too expensive to feed myself every day,” sometimes, i get lucky, and get the scraps from events at work, and that’s literally like the one (1) thing i look forward to.

i’m still out here searching for a salary (and health insurance) and hopefully, by my birthday, i’ll have that. but we’ll see, the job search has been uhhh…..abysmal to say the least.

anyways, in the midst of being stressed, i’ve realized that i really don’t think about nathan all the time like i used to. sometimes i’ll go like two days before i’m reminded of him. the other day, i was like “am i a bad person because of this?” and like, logically, i know that it’s totally normal, but on the other hand, i can’t help but feel guilty because of it sometimes. i feel a sense of responsibility to exist as a reminder of “hey, this person existed, and they mattered,” and while i realize that’s a huge weight to put onto myself, i feel like if i don’t, then who will?

last night, i was reading house of leaves (which, despite owning a copy since high school, i’ve actually never read it before) and i found nathan’s bookmark (a ticket from a baseball game he went to right after he moved to new york) in it, from when i let him take a few of my books when he moved to nyc. i got weirdly emotional and was like “wow what a fun coincidence to find this item of nathan’s that i’ve never seen before in my life on the 1.5 year anniversary of him dying.” i’m not saying i’m superstitious, but maybe i am a little stitious.

+++

since the last time i wrote a blog, i’ve kept notes on my phone every time something happens that i feel holds some sort of importance- so here’s what’s been in my notes since august 4th.

august 24, 2019. 4:17am

when i went into work on august 5th, a coworker of mine asked how i was doing. i was doing alright. the anniversary of nathan’s death really didn’t hit me too hard. i assumed i would have a huge nervous breakdown, and i didn’t.

then my coworker, who’d also lost a partner, told me, “i hate to sound negative and be the one to tell you this but the second year is a lot harder than the first.”

that’s what i’d been reading online for months, but to hear someone say it to my face i was just like… oh shit.

and so far, the second year has been harder.

i’ve officially been out on my own for a month now.

the best part about having depression is that no matter where you are, you still have depression. i don’t know why i was expecting moving to just alleviate all of my sadness when i know that i’ll always find a way to be miserable wherever i am.

it’s nice to be out of abilene and at least have the option of opportunity, but i basically just spend all of my free time asleep or crying.

as the ancient oracle, britney spears, once said- “my loneliness is killing me.”

now that i’ve started getting into a routine, i’m starting to feel that hole in my life again.

i’m on the same schedule that i was when i lived in new york, almost.

when we lived in new york, i would leave for work around 4, i’d get home around 11:30, and then nathan and i would hang out until around 4am, and then go to bed. the next day, he’d usually wake me up at a normal time, (or at least 2 hours before i had to be at work).

and now i have to leave for work around 4:30, i get home around 11, and when i come home i’m just alone. and i lay in bed until i’m finally exhausted enough to fall asleep, usually around 5am. and then i wake up ten minutes before i have to go to work.

i have been feeling this deep, existential sadness for awhile now. every night, i lay in bed and think about all of the conversations i wish i could revisit with nathan. all of the things i wish i’d said. i relive all of my favorite moments of ours. i am still so desperate to feel close to him again.

i cannot remember a time in my life when i was excited to wake up. i cannot remember a time when i looked forward to my future. in fact, when i think about my mental health as a child, the only thing i remember is one time when i was 12, my dad bought me tickets to see my favorite band. i was obviously so incredibly excited, and expressed the human emotion of joy, and my mother accused me of being on drugs because she’d “never seen me act like that before.” it was so surprising to her to see me happy that she literally thought i was on drugs.

i’ve been like this for as long as i can remember, except for the two years that nathan and i were together. i was still so depressed when we lived together, but for the first time, i was looking forward to the future. for the first time, dealing with my depression seemed worth it. for the first time, putting effort into getting better made sense.

for the first time in my life, i didn’t feel alone.

and it took a lot of effort on nathan’s part to make sure that i didn’t feel alone. the loneliness i’ve always felt is like a self-fulfilling prophecy. i actively choose to retreat from friendships and relationships. i stop responding to texts. i hide away and cancel plans. it’s my fault that i feel isolated- because i isolate myself. and nathan refused to let me do that. when i get stressed, i internalize everything and take it all on my own- and nathan would recognize when i was doing that and beg me to let him help. and i wouldn’t let him help. but he would still do it, because he knew what i needed without me asking and would just quietly provide it for me so that i wouldn’t lose my mind. and a lot of the time the help was just him actively sitting me down and reminding me that i’m in fact, not alone. i’ll never forget when i was so stressed after moving to new york because i was so poor, and nathan telling me that “it’ll be okay. we’ll figure it out.” i never asked him for money, or for help, because i have too much pride for that. but even when i was working, i was struggling to make ends meet for myself, and he would sneakily do things like go to the grocery store and be like “oh hey, i was at the store today and just picked up some chicken for you so you don’t have to go yourself.” there were a few times when i asked him to pick up something from the halal cart for me because i didn’t want to get out of bed and i’d be like “there’s cash in my wallet just grab it” but instead of taking the money from my wallet, he’d just get the food for me, and put the change he had leftover in my wallet for me to have.

but even past that, just emotionally, he’d always reassure me that i wasn’t alone. as soon as he started to sense me doing the thing where i try to isolate myself, he’d just cling to me even harder.

here’s the thing: i’m too tired to fight for myself, and i don’t have anyone that’ll fight for me the way that nathan did.

august 29th, 2019. 5:32pm

so here’s the tea: i went on a date for the first time since nathan died. i went out last night, got drunk, got on bumble and agreed to go on a date this morning. so yeah, i was aggressively hungover, which is maybe not the best version of me for someone to meet- but it’s the version i brought to the table nonetheless. and like, it was fine. well, up until the point he was trying to relate to me and my career in theatre and told me that his favorite musical is CATS. his favorite cat is the rum tum tugger, and he can’t wait to see the movie in december.

it’s not going to work out. CATS is an abomination and i refuse to spend time with anyone who disagrees with that statement.

on a more serious note: i realized that i definitely don’t have the emotional capacity to date. i just can’t bring myself to care about anything anyone has to tell me about themselves. you have two sisters, your parents divorced when you were 8 and and you love CATS? zzzzz….sorry, that was me blacking out for 7 minutes.

y’know, i’m unsure about a lot of things in my life. like, don’t try to ask me what i want for dinner because i refuse to make a decision about anything. don’t ask me what my favorite movie is, or my favorite book. i have no idea, dude, sorry. BUT the one thing i have incredible clarity about is what i deserve in a relationship. i had impossibly high standards before nathan and i were together and now they’re even higher- but that’s fine when you don’t have the emotional capacity to deal with scrubs to begin with.

the other day, i found my journal that i kept in college. it starts in august of 2015, with the eulogy i wrote for my dad’s funeral. an excerpt: “despite me acting like an awful teen at times, he always was on my side. i think that’s what i’ll miss the most. i’ll miss having someone who had my back 100%. i’ll miss having someone who was always making sure i was happy…” and after reading that, i realized why my relationship with nathan was so successful. i’ve always heard that “girls always end up marrying someone like their dad” thing, and for the most part always chalked it up to weird patriarchal bullshit, but maybe there’s a little truth in it. because i definitely see some of my favorite things about my dad reflected in my favorite things about nathan.

september 30, 2019. 1:09am

sometimes the saddest things must be sung.

every time i try to write, it’s impossible to say anything that’s not just “i’m sad.” i haven’t been feeling great lately. i just feel trapped in this infinite loop of sadness and it’s so exhausting. i don’t like being like this. nathan would always get so frustrated with me when my depression was really bad, and i’d always be like do you think this is fun for me??? do you think i like being like this??? do you think i wake up and want to be a goblin??? newsflash my dude, i don’t.

here’s the thing: when nathan first died, i was sad all the time. but it made sense. i had a reason to be sad all of the time.

but i’m still sad all of the time. i wake up, i’m sad for 10 hours and then i go to bed. and then i wake up, maybe go to work, come home and be sad until bedtime. it’s a constant loop of sadness and i am so tired.

nothing i do fulfills me. nothing satisfies me. i have neither purpose nor direction. i’m tired. and i’m sad.

october 2nd, 2019. 7:34pm

i went to urgent care today- turns out i don’t have depression, i just have a torn ligament in my ankle.

for context: i fell down the stairs at work the other day, crunched my ankle like it was an empty ozarka water bottle, and just wrecked my shit. i think this injury has me sadness spiraling a lot more than i normally do. now i get why nathan used to get so depressed whenever he’d injure himself.

the first time i got really sick after nathan died, i was so sad. this is my first ever really bad physical injury- i’ve never broken a bone or torn anything before, and i’m really feeling the loss of nathan right now. like how am i supposed to feed myself when i can barely walk to the kitchen? who’s supposed to remind me to take my ibuprofen every few hours?

senior year of college, i kept getting strep, and the only reason i didn’t die is because every 12 hours nathan would call me to make sure i took my antibiotics, even when i had to take them at 2am. i only have two voicemails from him saved on my phone and literally one of them is from 3am and he’s like “hello wake up, your penicillin is calling, i’m gonna keep calling you until you wake up.”

even though spraining my ankle was a nightmare, it could’ve been worse. just think, if i was a framing device in an emily bronte novel, i would have just had to live at work for five weeks until it healed.

october 11th, 2019. 5:37pm

i haven’t been sleeping lately, and last night i fell asleep around 6am. the cold front had just blown in and it was raining and i finally fell asleep. before i went to bed, i cracked my windows open for the first time this year and when i woke up this morning it was chilly in my room. i woke up in a little cocoon of all of my blankets and pillows and for a moment, before i completely opened my eyes, it felt like i was back in new york, waking up with nathan on a fall wednesday morning. it’s the little things.

october 25th, 2019. 2:19am

i keep thinking about all the things that have returned to me. all of the things that i gave to nathan that are back in my possession, tucked away in my room. like the grey ut shirt that was 3 sizes too big for me- so i gave it to him as a christmas present our first year together. he had been in new york for a semester, and he surprised me by coming to austin for new year’s- we hadn’t talked about christmas gifts or anything, but we ended up giving each other almost the exact same gift. he had gotten me a columbia sweater, and he slept in it for a few days before giving it to me, so it smelled like him. i did the exact same thing with that grey shirt. we couldn’t stop laughing when we exchanged the gifts because we were so amused that we’d gotten the same thing for each other.

after he died, that shirt was one of the few that i kept of his, he slept in it all the time when we lived together. it still smells like him.

i don’t wear my rings anymore, but when i see them in the bottom of my jewelry box, i think about the day that i gave him the engagement ring. he was so afraid of me saying no if he were to propose to me, so i told him that when i knew i’d say yes- i’d give him the ring i wanted him to use. on our first anniversary, i was visiting him in new york, right before i flew back to texas, i left a letter on his desk, with the ring attached. it returned to me a year after that, on our second anniversary when he proposed.

the day after nathan died, i went through all of his stuff. mostly because i knew i was about to fly back to texas and i didn’t know when i’d return to our apartment, so i wanted to collect all of his important documents that i didn’t want to lose. social security card, IDs, cards, passport, etc. but when i was digging through his backpack, i found a folder, where he’d kept all of the letters and cards i’d given to him throughout the years.

my personal favorite was an envelope that had two things in it: a sample size of the perfume that i’ve always worn, and a letter that just said “for when you miss me.” i gave that to him before we were even together. it was during that weird ambiguous era of our relationship where we were too afraid to commit, but were definitely in too deep to not commit. every time i would leave his apartment, he’d comment on how his pillows smelled like me, and how he missed me- right after he made his decision to go to columbia, we assumed we would never see each other again, so i gave him that letter.

i was surprised to see all of those letters because that meant that he moved them from his apartment in abilene, to new york, to our apartment in new york, back to texas, and then to philly.

so in turn, i moved them from philly, back to abilene, and now they’re with me in a box in austin.

and i hope that one day all of the love that i gave to nathan will return to me.

november 4th, 2019. 12:31am

in the deepest, blackest night of despair if you can get just one pinhole of light, all of grace rushes in.

november 19th, 2019. 2:20am

i’ve started taking up space again.

december 20th, 2019. 1:41pm

y’know, i’ve been doing pretty well for myself lately, and by that i mean that i haven’t had any major meltdowns. well, except for a couple of days ago. it was a christmas party, and as we all know- i’m not great at being social. but i also never turn down an invitation, which is a strange combination of things that happen to exist at the core of my being. but luckily, i got a plus one. see, with a plus one, i have a buffer there. i can bring one of my more interesting friends to carry conversations for me and then by proxy i become more able to socialize because i have to expend less energy by having that buffer there. anyways the person i was bringing as my plus one cancelled two hours before the event which meant that i had no time to try to get someone else to come with me. and this threw me into a major breakdown. i didn’t even want to go to the party at this point, but i had spent so much money on an outfit that if i didn’t go i would have wasted like 60 dollars. and i sat there trying to put makeup on to go but i kept crying and ruining it and then i chugged three white claws before even showing up at the party and i didn’t eat beforehand because there was supposed to be food there but by the time i was done crying and arrived, there was nothing left and then i drank 5 glasses of wine because it was free and i have social anxiety, and somehow i made it through the night without making a fool of myself, which is a miracle.

the thing is, i really don’t get upset about a lot of things. but if someone cancels or changes plans on me, especially plans that we’d had set for at least a month in advance, i lose my god damn mind. there is historically nothing that upsets me more.

but this time around, i realized that it really hurt me because it was the first time that i was confronted with the fact that i no longer have anyone in my life that prioritizes me. like, if nathan was begrudgingly my plus one to an event, he can’t get out of it- it’s non-negotiable. but like, i don’t hold that level of importance in anyone else’s life- there’s always something more important to them and uhhhhh that feeling sucks.

+++

and that was the last note i wrote in 2019. which brings us to january 2020. when i think about my relationship with nathan, i feel like january always ended up being a special month for us. in 2016, january was the first time i ever spent the night with nathan. in 2017, nathan came back to texas to see me for the new year, after we’d been long-distance for five months. at the end of 2017, he went out of town for like three weeks, and i was miserable and all alone for the holidays, but in january 2018, his last day of vacation back home in abilene coincided with my first day of vacation back in abilene so we got to see each other for a little bit instead of having to go an entire month apart during the holidays.

so i always end up getting weird and do a lot of reminiscing in january- but i feel like that’s kind of universal.

like the #1 thing that everyone does is get all existential and contemplative when the new year hits.

+++

in 2018, i never stopped moving. like a shark, i would have died if i stayed in one place for too long. and there i was in 2019, finally staying in one place.

it was a lot easier to ask for help when i had a reason to be sad. but now enough time has passed since nathan died that i feel like a burden when i’m not doing well.

in my blog post wrapping up 2018, i said that my goal was to be kinder to myself. i also said that 2019 was going to be for starting a new life.

and while i’ve been no kinder to myself, at least i’ve made strides in living in this new phase of my life. in 2019 i moved out of my mother’s house, and back into my best friend’s apartment in austin. i got 3 jobs. i cut off all of my hair and pierced my nose. i started taking up space again.

a few weeks ago, a coworker of mine told me that she had also lost a partner before. but what stuck with me was when she said, “you will never be the same. you’ll be happy again, and you’ll fall in love again- but you’ll never be the same person again”

and i’m realizing how true that is.

i think one of the scariest scenarios is waking up one day and not remembering who you are. and that’s exactly what happened to me in 2018. i woke up one day without nathan and couldn’t remember who i was.

one thing everyone’s been talking about lately is how this is the end of the decade, and i realized that nathan was in my life for the entire decade. he was in my life before the decade even started. and then when he died, i lost such a huge part of my identity. there’s a bear’s den lyric that’s like “i don’t want to know who i am without you,” and that’s what 2019 was for me.

kintsugi is the japanese art of fixing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with a lacquer mixed with powdered gold. i’ve always been a vase held by shaky hands, constantly on the precipice of shattering- and in 2018 i was dropped. in 2019, i’ve been finding tiny pieces of myself and trying to piece them back together to form a whole person again.

recently, i’ve been realizing all of the little pieces of me that are missing. like the part of me that used to be good at holding conversations with people. and the part of me that had the ability to be a person for more than like 3 hours a day. and the part of me that showed excitement about things. i don’t even know what things excite me anymore? do i have interests or hobbies? not really. one time, i described myself as a robot that powers off if i am not at work, and wow, what an apt description.

the other day, one of my friends called me out about how she can never tell if i’m actually excited about something or not. my language is always very vague and even when i’m really stoked about something, i rarely show excitement about it.

+++

so now it’s february 2020. it’s been a year and a half since nathan died. i’m feeling better. the other day, i came to the realization that i think my emotions have finally leveled off. i’m back to my normal amount of unstable, rather than that really virulent level that i was at for awhile at the end of last year. it feels good to finally have a little bit of control back over my life. i’ve finally really settled in at work, and i’m starting to feel more confident in my capabilities.

so what are my goals for 2020? i think the biggest thing is to find something that i care about. honestly, probably a big part of the reason why i’ve been having such a hard time finding a Big Girl Job to settle into is because there’s just nothing that i’m 100% passionate about. it’s hard for me to find an answer other than “i’m just trying to not die,” whenever i get asked “so why do you want this job?” i really want to find lasting stability this year. i’m tired of not being able to enjoy anything because i don’t have money. whoever said money can’t buy happiness obviously was never poor because let me tell you, i’d be a lot happier if i could afford to go out with my friends more often. or if i could like…….eat 3 meals a day without feeling guilty for wasting food because i know i can live on just one meal a day.

i also started doing a skincare routine that involves like 4 different serums and i’ve been doing really well keeping up with doing it twice a day and if i could carry that energy through the rest of the year that’d be dope. i would make a comment about how i’ve been going to the gym every day and how i’m trying to have a 2020 glo-up but i was going to the gym every day for awhile but i haven’t been in like two weeks.

also my chemical romance just reunited so i guess my other 2020 goal is to see them on this reunion tour.

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morethanithoughtofficialblog · 4 years

Text

Chapter 9: How am I even supposed to be feeling right now?

In which a certain skeleton realizes he’s smarter than he thinks.

*Sans's POV*

It's been like two weeks since (Y/N) stayed at the Dreemurr's house with everyone else. I take that day as a reference because a lot of things have happened.

One of them, my new home... that feels really tense.

Our parents decided to live with us so we all can have a better relationship with each other (well, it was actually Arial's idea), and I just let it be. Now I fucking regret it, 'cause I remembered that Gaster is a stupid asshole. He just criticizes everything I say, I do, or I've ever done with my life. It's fucking annoying to hear he has "such a disappointment of a son" every two seconds and poor, innocent, Paps trying to dismiss his bullshit.

Arial, being in love with the doc like if they just started dating, never said a word defending me. But, in order to look like a good person, she doesn't defend her perfect husband.

Go on- defend that piece of crap, Mom.

Honestly, Papyrus and I could have been perfectly well on our own, just like we were in the Underground. He's now fifteen, and I am twenty-two; isn't it too late to try to bond a connection?! They should have tried when Papy was just a kid and I was a fucking depressed teenager, trying to sustain my brother and the place we lived.

Oh, did I mention I was the one who paid everything? They didn't put a single freaking cent! I did all on my own, I even got a lot of trouble to persuade one human into buying my old house. And all for this?! Now I can't even get on my house and smile to my little brother without being judged...

Ah...

I really miss those times.

When I would get out of school or of... "work", and meet the smiley face of my brother. That smile is what keeps me from ending it all. I just can't leave him behind with that fucking couple of irresponsible parents while I'm burning in hell.

I just can't.

Today, though, we are out of that uncomfortable place and back on the Dreemurr's house. It's really big, and, I must admit, better than anything I could ever afford. Toriel insisted that we shouldn't lose our friendship, therefore, everyone must go. And so there I was going, trying to resist the urge to punch Gaster on the face and then go to my bed and cry while I fall asleep...

That was too specific.

When I arrived, boom! Surprise surprise! (Y/N) was there, freaking out in the middle of an argument, hosted by Undyne and Mettaton.

Poor girl.

Papyrus did whatever it was on my mind, and intervened. The dispute ended quickly, thanks to Papyrus's innocence not wanted to be ruined. My death glare also helped but, hey- Papy did almost everything, so he gets the credit.

(Y/N) let out a sigh of relief, then awkwardly muttered a 'thank you'. She anxiously looked over at the four of us, then waved shyly before disappearing into the kitchen with Tori.

She... is certainly something. I don't think I've ever seen anyone this nervous before.

Maybe she has problems socializing, but that would make no sense. But now that I remember, she indeed was anxious whenever we went for a meeting with her.

Or whenever we hang out.

...

Actually, I think she's nervous about the mere fact of being around us. We must be a huge group of weirdos to her, while in her head she's planning an excuse for how to escape.

"Ah, well..." she interrupted, gaining everyone's attention "I have the results for, uh, your access in our education systems. I believe I, well, have everything specified in your documents, so... yeah... do you, eh, want me to give them to you...?"

Silence. And then, a grateful and unexpected squeak, courtesy of Toriel.

"Oh! That's just wonderful! Thank you so much!"

"Ah, it's... nothing" (Y/N) answered, with a seemingly usual hint of anxiety in her voice.

Then she grabbed a shitton of folders and started to giving them to us. I took mine nervously and remembered all the times I studied really hard for school. I remembered, also, every book I read and how I ended up learning French.

I just hope it wasn't for nothing.

I took a deep breath, now remembering the exam we had to do in an office, like if it was a diagnostic test. It wasn't that hard but, what if I failed? I swear to God that if I need to do high school again, I will kill myself.

I opened it slowly, almost closing my eyes in fear. A panic attack started to take over my body, and I must have shown it since (Y/N) was giving me a concerned look.

"Sans, are you okay?" She whispered softly, making me relax just a bit. Then her eyes lighted up a little as if she now understood "Don't worry, you did well. In fact, you did perfectly!"

Gaining more confidence from her small smile, I opened it quickly and checked the first page. Then I stood in shock, my mind going numb and my mouth opening slightly.

...

College.

I can go to college.

To fucking university, like a normal person at my age would.

I looked at her and noticed she was almost smirking by my reaction. Then she gave me the biggest smile she could and a thumbs up.

And, I swear to God, I felt amazing.

I checked the other papers, and I was becoming even happier. Texts said that I was a mastermind, that I could even get a huge scholarship in an important university if I wanted to. My redaction skills were noted as perfect, which made my nonexistent heart skip a beat. My science knowledge was amusing, and math, oh lord, had really high notes.

At the end of the documents, I noticed a little post-it. I looked at it curiously and started reading it as soon as I grabbed it in my hands:

<<Hi Sans!

You did really well on basically everything! You should be proud!

If you are interested in going to a university any time sooner, I recommend you to check out Ebott University. It's one of the best schools in the country, and I think you have the capacity to join! Hell, even have a great scholarship there!

No pressure, though. It's just a suggestion, after all!

I just wanted to congratulate your excellent results, and to tell you that you can do it! You looked really stressed after giving your test, so I thought I should tell you this: you'll do just fine, Sans. Have more confidence in yourself, alright? If not for you, at least for your brother, who I see that it is really important to you.

I wish you the best of lucks, my friend!

(Y/N) (L/N)>>

I didn't know how to react. The only thing I know I did it's that I smiled all the time, and felt like this was just a happy dream about me being successful in life. I just couldn't believe that all my effort did work.

I glanced at her and saw that Papyrus was chatting excitedly about his future. He proclaimed that he would do his best in order to "make her effort count". I smiled, noticing that, after a long time, I shared the same enthusiasm as Papyrus.

I must have been staring because Paps waved at me energetically while she just let out a happy sigh.

"BROTHER! I AM FIT TO THE HIGH SCHOOL LEVEL!" he exclaimed, making me smile even more. "I'LL FINALLY BE ABLE TO LEARN NEW THINGS, SANS!"

With Papyrus in school, I think I can work for a better future in the midtime.

After such a long time.

Everyone else was also excited, confirmed by Gaster's small and hypocritical smile.

He probably did better than I did.

I looked over his paper and saw it; he could instantly go for the scientist role in any place...

And I have to study.

My smile twitched a little but quickly forgot my dismay by a big hug from my brother. Oh lord, what I would do without him?

I wOUld prObaBLy k!ll mYsEl-

Calm down, Sans.

You've got this.

I returned to my old and casual smile, relaxing a bit. We're out of the Underground now- it's my chance to finally do what I want. And what I want to do right now...

It's to buy another book.

...

Nerd.

A lot of people are actually surprised when they hear I love reading, especially the classics. I must seem so relaxed and chill for them, then. Which it's good since that's my favorite side of me, but... maybe keeping this reading obsession out of view it's dragging me down. It would be better to find someone to share these things with...

But who?

I snapped back into reality and shrugged it off. I can't lose my cool.

I just can't.

Eventually, I caught up into the conversation everyone was being part of. As expected, the topics were related to the future and how are we going to make our dreams come true. (Y/N), however, was just smiling there, trying to fit in silently. But, obviously, she felt excluded every time she tried to gain the courage to say something.

She doesn't seem to be up for conversations, either. When Toriel asked her a few things, she stuttered and played with her fingers. I have no idea how I managed to understand everything she said, but somehow I could. Still, I feel sorry for her. She probably doesn't want to be here.

I wonder why she helped us, though. She hasn't asked for money just yet, and she tries her best to don't be rude at all. She apologizes a lot and freaks out whenever someone acts to be offended or sad. Whenever there is an argument, she probably has a mental breakdown and tries her best to don't surpass some limits or to let the problem go any further. The mere look of her face is the purest description of anxiety I've ever seen...

Maybe she suffers, indeed, anxiety...

But you just can't ask her, can you?

...

Of course not.

It would be stupid to arrive at her side and immediately ask "hey girl, do you have anxiety???".

She would stop talking to me, and considering that we'll see each other more in the future, I just can't go on and make our friendship awkward.

...

Wait- friendship?! You don't even know her that much!!!

...

But she indeed called me in the post-it as a friend.

My skull was starting to hurt, and curiously, it's been for a problem that isn't mine. I must admit, though; anxious or not anxious, (Y/N) seems to be really nice. And she's like, smart as fuck.

Or that's how I see her, who knows.

"HUMAN!" Papyrus exclaimed, snapping me back to reality... again. "WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS SO NERVOUS TO TALK TO US? WE WON'T HURT YOU!"

Oh shi-

"Ah, eh... I, em, don't know...? It's just, ah... eh..."

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit

"It's just, em... I... how do I explain, em... ah..."

Tell her something, you fucking asshole!!!!!!!

"ah, kid. you don't need to say it if you don't want to. i bet everyone will understand"

She just looked at me nervously, like if she was asking for reassurance. I nodded my head slowly and gave her a thumbs-up, trying to calm her down. She took a deep breath and smiled, a hint of confidence gleaming in her eyes.

Wait, is she going to say it? Why-

"Well, em, Papyrus" she started, shaking her hands in order to calm down "I suffer from something called... anxiety. I was diagnosed some months ago, actually".

Oh, so I was right?

How sad, she's so nice to suffer from something like that.

Wait, so that means she-

"wait, so you are enjoying your time here? for real?"

"Oh, of course!" she responded immediately, smiling nervously at my statement. I'm such an asshole "I actually was starting to miss getting out of my crappy apartment to socialize with other people! I'm... not the best at it, though. I do suck at making new friends and- shitidontevenknowifyouguysconsidermeasafriendimsosorry"

Was she for real? It's difficult to see this girl as someone not loved or wanted. I mean, I must admit she's pretty and, besides, she's super nice and patient. I'm starting to see that she didn't do this for money, but because that's her nature. A kind girl, not standing social injustices. Her words and her personality now make sense- she's just that different to others that she finds it difficult to have real friends.

"HUMAN! I'M DELIGHTED TO HEAR YOU WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH US! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, ACCEPT YOUR OFFER AND I'LL BE THE COOLEST FRIEND YOU'LL HAVE!"

I should probably tell her the same.

...

I'm rooting to be friends with this girl, I just can't dismiss the fact she wants some company.

But aren't I judging her too quickly?

...

She looks lonely for real, though.

I mean, I do have Papyrus, but she seems to have no one at her side. And that just fucking sucks. I don't think anyone deserves to be so lonely and so misunderstood. I don't even understand how she has dealt with it! I don't think I'll ever be able to be alone with my mind. I would have probably killed myself as a teenager and not been here.

"hey kid, you've been really nice and, well, a real light of hope to all of us. i don't think anyone here wouldn't like to be your friend. or well, at least i don't, y' know?"

She smiled and seemed a lot more relaxed, as everyone else nodded at my words. I could see she felt more accepted, which made me feel better. It's stupid, isn't it? I feel good because I included someone that deserved to be included since the beginning.

"Oh, I know!" Frisk raised her finger in the sky, gaining all of our attention "We should do a huge sleepover party in order to commemorate our new friend, (Y/N)!"

Papyrus gasped with lights in his eyes, clearly excited about this new idea. (Y/N), though... she looked like she was freaking out a lot. I put one of my hands on her shoulder, trying to tranquilize her, and incredibly she did. She gave me a small smile and mouthed an "I'll be ok", which made me smile as well.

As much as I must hate humanity, I think she's an exception.

But I really don't know

"BUT FIRST!" Papy screamed, bringing with himself a ton of wood pieces and a hammer. Then he locked the door completely and put a padlock that I don't know where it came from. "THERE! NOW NO ONE CAN ESCAPE THE PARTY! NYEH HEH HEH!"

I swear to God, almost everyone had a heart attack at that moment. And (Y/N), of course, seemed like she was dead for a moment.

Before we could react, a bunch of blankets and pillows were all over the couch, and my brother was already connecting the Wii and the Xbox. Undyne was bringing chips from the cabinet (without any permission, by the way), and the kid was getting some board games.

This is gonna be a long night.

(Y/N), without anything else to do, offered herself to help. But since she was "the guest", the official planners of this sleepover didn't let her. And since I wasn't going to help, we ended up sitting on the couch, talking about... well, anything.

"is there any way we can help with, uh, your anxiety?" I asked her, trying to feel more, well, accessible...?

"Well, um... I think I'll be ok. As long as I'm not dragged into a huge party with unknown people... which it's not totally happening, haha..." she paused, then she glanced at me in horror "Right?!"

"considering mettaton, uh..." I stopped, knowing I fucked up "...maybe?"

I shrugged at her with a small and nervous smile and her eyes widened a lot. I felt horrible, but I just couldn't lie to her. If she's gonna continue here with us, Mettaton's personality will need some... moderations? And honestly, I don't think he'll ever moderate that slutty character he has created, that it's the dirtiest version of himself.

She sighed though, realizing that, no matter how much she wanted things to be different, she couldn't change them. Or could she?

"It's okay, I guess" she started with a deep breath, like if this was something difficult to her "I mean, I just declared that I have anxiety, whichistilldontunderstandwhyidid, but that doesn't mean people should be different around me or take pity on me. The world just doesn't work like that, and that's fine! So I think there's no way to help my little ol' problem... except medicine, of course"

"oh, so you already went to the doctor then?"

"Yeah... but I constantly forget to take the, uh... pills..."

Wow, so she doesn't even care that much? Or it's just that she cares more about work? Probably the second, but it doesn't really matter. (Y/N) has anxiety and she isn't dealing with it the proper way, but I'm no one to tell her, well, anything about it. I haven't been responsible for ages, I'm not gonna tell this girl any advice about responsibility.

Not today.

Not ever.

"EVERYONE! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAS SETTLED THE GAME!" Papy shouted, shutting up all my thoughts about this kid. Thank God.

"oh really, and what is it bro?" I asked, sounding as lazy as usual and hiding my real self with a smile. It always works.

"TODAY, BROTHER!" he posed heroically "WE ARE PLAYING A POPULAR HUMAN GAME THAT REQUIRES STRATEGY AND GOOD THINKING!"

Huh?

"WE ARE PLAYING..." (notice the dramatic suspense)

"...MONOPOLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Is this the part where I shout in happiness or where I scream in horror?

#sans x reader #more than i thought fanfiction #more than i thought #chapter 9 #sans #x reader #undertale

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