#which. i think is because whenever he took deli meat out they would always give them some

[biteapple]

its also interesting cause Hope always had a chronic vomiting issue her whole life which vets could not figure out and basically said "sometimes cats are just vomiters" and when i first moved in with my roommate, she got a LOT better (1nce a month vomit instead of daily), but it came back overtime. now that my roommate's gone... she's literally only vomited once this week

#i wonder if its an anxiety thing + something else...? #he wasn't very nice to the cats. she would chase Olive around and i could never get them to not fuck off about that #he would also just feed them deli meat. which i got him to stop partially but she would just do it when i was at work #Hope has kidney issues she really cant just eat deli meat whenever she wants its so bad for her and i dont know whats in it #could be cured could have onions and garlic in it i cant know theyre both on a strict diet dont give it to them #i even got special treats so she could give them treats that they could atleast have every once in awhile that wasnt like. deli meat #but she would STILL give them deli meat and would sometimes admit it to me if he felt guilty enough about it. wondering if that helped them #Olive's doing a lot better now that he's moved out though #i have a feeling a lot of her anxiety was just directly caused by them when i wasnt around to see or do anything about it #also despite Olive being on a different diet for weight loss she wasnt losing weight and i bet he didnt help that #sometimes they both just didnt eat their dry food and it got me really worried #but straight up i think he would just feed them whatever she wanted before i came home to feed them so they just werent hungry #also Hope's been VERY demanding whenever i take my turkey out for my daily sandwich. #which. i think is because whenever he took deli meat out they would always give them some #now that i think about it my mom ALSO would give them just like everything they asked for when they lived with her #almost certainly... not helping the stomach issue. ESPECIALLY kidney problems included

[willowbird]

prompt: aaron had a slight ED that he developed as a kid and is now being noticeable to the rest of the foxes even andrew and nicky kinda knew he forgot to eat but the stress from school and exy makes it worse....

I could easily expand on this and maybe one day I will. It hits kinda close to home tho so I’m going to err on the side of brevity just for my own mental space. Thank you so much for the ask! I hope this is what you’re looking for ❤️ ❤️ Take care of yourselves!

Warnings for depression, eating disorder. 

Edit: this has been expanded and can also be found on my ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Ao3

-----

Wednesday | 6:04am

The alarm was screaming. 

Its cries crashed against his senses like sea-storm waves and Aaron was without shelter. The sound had been crowding him for four minutes now, and he still couldn't lift a hand to make it stop -- even though he was perfectly aware and wide awake. He wanted to stop the sound, he needed the quiet back, but for whatever reason his hand just wouldn't listen to his brain no matter how many times he willed it to move. 

Aaron hated days like this.

Wednesday | 8:43am

Nicky slung his arm around Aaron’s shoulders, a grin plastered on his face. His hair was slicked back like a low-budget greaser, halfway between wet and just damp. They’d just finished morning practice and he, Nicky, and Kevin were waiting out in the player’s lobby for Neil and Andrew to finish showering and changing so they could leave.

“Aw man, I am hungry. Please tell me that Andrew and Neil are gonna finish up soon so that we can go get a real breakfast.” Nicky's whining was easy enough to ignore most of the time, but today Aaron was tired and his patience was thin. He had three tests to study for, two essays to write, they had a game coming up on Friday, and Aaron didn't have the bandwidth for Nicky, too.

He shruged his cousin off with a snort. "I'm just gonna hitch a ride to the library." There were still a few hours before his first class of the day, and he needed to use that time for something productive.

"Aww, c'mon Aaron come to breakfast with us! We'll drop you at the library when we're done. It won't take too long!"

"What won't take too long?" When Aaron looked over, he saw Neil and Andrew coming out of the locker room, clean and changed.

"Breakfast!" Nicky announced. "Neil, tell Aaron to join us! It's a family breakfast -- he should be there!"

"You can't just label things "family" events as a way to require people to be there," Kevin said with a long-suffering sigh. Even so, Aaron noticed he already had the menu of their usual breakfast joint pulled up on his phone. The pictures of pancakes topped with glistening syrup and fluffy omelets made his stomach clench in an unpleasant way.

Aaron looked away.

"I've got a shit to do," he said. That would be his final word on it, and to demonstrate, Aaron turned to head toward the doors.

Except Andrew had moved to block him, though Aaron hadn't registered when his twin had circled them. Aaron frowned, lifting his chin in challenge.

Andrew just studied him for a long moment before looking just past Aaron, gaze darting over his shoulder to the others behind him. He lifted a hand and a second later a slim object snapped into it. When Andrew then held it out to him, Aaron saw it was a granola bar.

A quick glance over his shoulder exposed the granola bar thrower as Kevin, who was zipping his backpack shut. They matched gazes briefly and Kevin nodded toward the granola bar in Andrew's hand.

"If you aren't going to come to breakfast with us make sure you get something on your way to the library."

Aaron glared at him, then rolled his eyes and turned back to his brother. Andrew just looked at him, expression blank, and continued to hold out the damn granola bar like he could stand there all day without a care in the world.

A flash of resentment boiled through him. Of course Andrew could stand there so fucking unbothered. Barely anything affected him at all.

With an annoyed huff, Aaron snatched the bar out of Andrew's hand and shoved it into his pocket before stalking out of the building.

Wednesday | 1:15pm

Katelyn ❤️ (13:15): Hey baby! Prof Dixon bailed again ~ you free?

Aa. Min. (13:15): McCallister's?

Katelyn ❤️ (13:16): See u in 5! 😘

Wednesday | 1:23pm

Aaron stood inside the confused cacophony that was McCallister's, an on-campus restaurant that was the love child of a deli and a pub but four times too big, regretting his choices.

It wasn't even the noise that was bothering him the most. It was the smell.

Aaron took two steps into the restaurant and his stomach roiled. It twisted and tightened, curling in on itself in disgust at the sharp, slimy stench of cold cut deli meat cushioned on a waft of double-baked potatoes that filled the restaurant like wildfire's haze. He and Katelyn met here for lunch two or three times a week when their schedules lined up. They both liked the food and they had several corner booths where they could hide in and study together after eating. It was one of their favorite places. But right now, Aaron was fighting not to gag. 

“Aaron!” Relief warred with dread at the sound of Katelyn’s voice and he hastily plastered on an imitation of the smile he usually didn’t even have to think about, that always rose to his lips whenever she was around all on its own. It didn’t today, but for Katelyn he could make the effort. For Katelyn, Aaron could do anything. 

He turned around once that smile was fixed in place and wrapped his arms around her when she joined him, indulging in a quick kiss that soothed some of the nausea churning in his gut. When they broke apart, Aaron turned to lead them toward their usual booth but Katelyn stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Babe is everything alright?” Worry painted a crease between her eyebrows, her mouth drawn down as she studied him. 

Most days, Katelyn’s concern warmed him. It made him feel seen and loved and cherished. Today it put a slash of anxiety through his lungs, breath seeping out through the cut and concaving his chest under the weight of her scrutiny. 

Aaron arranged his smile into something tired and unalarmed. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a long week, y’know?”

Katelyn hummed like she wasn’t sure she believed him but was deciding to trust him anyway, then she smiled and she released his arm only to take his hand, giving it a small squeeze. “Alright, then let’s get some lunch and shut out the rest of the world for at least a little bit, yeah?”

The smell of the restaurant was still choking him and even his skin felt tight. The absolute last thing he wanted to do right now was stay there another second, let alone the hour he had until he needed to think about heading to his next class.

“I’m so sorry Kate, I’ve got to meet with the TA for my history class. I remembered right after I texted you but I still wanted to see you so I figured I’d just tell you when you got here.” He offered an apologetic smile and did his best to ignore the way guilt was now mixing uncomfortably well with the sick already sloshing around in his stomach. Aaron did not like lying to Katelyn, it felt wrong. But he also couldn’t... he couldn’t explain what was wrong with him right now -- not because he didn’t know, but because he was sure explaining it was going to make him sound crazy and that was just the last thing he needed right now. It was better to slip away, go somewhere he could focus on homework or something and just... wait for it to pass.

Katelyn’s expression fell, flashing disappointment, then a sad understanding as she nodded. “Of course. It’s okay babe, really. I’m just glad I got to see you at all.” She smiled then -- that bright, warm, just-for-him smile that always had Aaron’s heart skipping. A small knot of tension loosened in his lower chest, just enough that he was able to take a small breath and offer a more genuine smile of his own in return. 

“I love you,” he told her. 

“I love you too, Aaron. Take care of yourself and I’ll see you later, okay?”

He made no promises before he made his escape, just a smile and a wave.

Wednesday | 3:37pm

The granola bar tasted like ash in his mouth. It felt like there were iron weights attached to his jaw, making it impossible for him to chew. A fist of repulsion locked around his throat, and it was a physical struggle to swallow. 

This was the worst part about days like this.

Aaron knew he had to eat something, because he knew what could happen if he didn’t and the only thing worse than having to put up with feeling this way, dragging himself through the mud of his own psychosis one step, one mile, at a time -- was doing it with everyone watching him struggle. 

So he forced himself through half the granola bar. He knew better than to push for more than that, or all his efforts would be wasted into the nearest trash can.

Wednesday | 7:51pm

Practice had been brutal. It had been so bad that even Nicky hadn’t been able to cheer himself through it and was just as bitter and on edge as the rest of them by the time they hit the showers. 

Aaron sat in the lobby and waited for the others, feeling old. He felt tired. He just wanted these stupid pissing contests to stop and everyone to shut up. He wanted the world to be completely silent, completely empty. Emptiness sounded nice. Sounded peaceful. Sounded right.

The sharp scuff of shoe-rubber against tile had him cringing so hard his shoulders ached and he peeled his eyes open to glare at the source. Andrew stood there, hands in his pockets, blank-faced and too knowing.

Aaron snorted and looked away. 

The couch shifted slightly as Andrew took the spot next to him. There was the soft shk of a blade cutting into something crisp and when Aaron looked over, Andrew was holding out a small sliver of apple. His brother wasn’t looking at him. Instead, the other Minyard was dispassionately staring at the tv, which was playing some sports channel that Aaron knew very well Andrew didn’t give a single shit about. 

For a long moment Aaron just stared at the side of his twin’s face, but it was impossible to know what, if anything, he was thinking about. Finally, he looked at the sliver of apple. It was pale, small, unobtrusive. Aaron’s stomach clenched, a mix between hunger and repulsion. All he’d had today was that half a granola bar -- which had been both too much and not enough. His throat tightened as he stared at that innocuous slice of fruit, but he was almost focused more on the hand holding it. His eyes burned and he looked away, but not before taking the slice. 

#aftg #aftg fanfic #tw: depression #tw: eating disorder #tw: ed #aaron minyard #andrew minyard #twinyards #of course i made it a twinyard drabble #because i'm a sucker for the boys supporting each other #going into a small headcanon in the tags here #i hc andrew struggles with food #similar to what aaron goes through here #but more intense #because he has a very complex relationship with food #based on his past #and then the manifestation of his depression does not help #i actually have a wip based on this #from andrew's pov #where we see him dealing with his ed #and the way the monsters support him through it #sometimes his ed crops up due to his depression #and sometimes its separate #anyway #this was an unnecessary a/n in the tags here #but that's why andrew took the approach he did in the drabble #because how he treats aaron in this is how he needs to be handled when he has his own episodes

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Parent Trap 4/10 (Keanu x Reader)

Summary: Annie and Hallie are twin sisters who never met until they end up in the same summer camp together. They decide to switch places to see how the other lives. Hallie heads to Los Angeles to meet Keanu, owner of Arch Motorcycle Company, while Annie goes to New York to meet you, rising fashion designer and their aunt. Their plan is simple: get their parents together to make the perfect family. If only it could be that easy… Previous chapters: prologue | 1 2 3: 

Author’s notes: So here we are, back with parent trap. I shall remember for future references that I can’t manage two series at once. Anyway, let’s get to it and as usual feedback is always greatly appreciated.

Wordcount: 3404

Warnings: none. Just lots of fluff

You looked away from the blank page of your sketchbook and across the cashier’s counter to Hallie. It had been a couple of days since the girl had returned home and to your surprise, she asked to come to the store with you.

It wasn’t completely unusual for her to come. There was a nice bookstore a couple of stores over and she sometimes liked to spend time reading there. The elderly couple that owned the place pampered Hallie with cookies like she was their grandkid and in turn, she helped them with computer stuff and small tasks around the shop.

What was surprising was to see Hallie browsing the racks of clothes in the store, picking up a few pieces and bringing with her to mirror to check it out, adding this and that accessory to see how she could look on the outfit. Once in a while, she would ask if there were any of them in her size and if she could have it.

That along with all the other odd things you had been noticing about your niece were starting to, well not exactly worry you, more like get you to notice and pay attention even more than usual. It was all small little things, like going off meat and making sure to stylish her hair every morning or how she would try to sneak some ham pieces to Salem to get the cat to come over or how she was always on the phone…

Of course, you didn’t expect her to stay the same forever. Hallie was a teenager, she was growing up, discovering herself and what she liked, who she wanted to be. It was just weird to witness the process and how fast it seemed to be happening. You didn’t remember going through so many changes at once. Then again, your teen years had been spent under Mary’s shadow since she demanded so much attention from your parents.

You were the quiet kid, the one that didn’t give any trouble. Maybe that was why you didn’t feel like much had changed for you. You were always the one that spent hours in your room, either reading or drawing, Mary was the one with all the friends and parties and behavior issues. Now here you were, raising her child, while Mary…

Letting out a sigh at your gloomy thoughts, your attention shifted to the board you built as inspiration for your new collection. Color pallet and textures, geometric figures and flowers and movies and songs, they all called to you whenever you were trying to create, but it almost felt like this time you couldn’t get anything down on paper and it was getting so frustrating.

“You have that look on,” Maggie said, coming from storage with a few new outfits to change the mannequins. “The I can’t draw and I want to punch something look. It’ll come to you. Just be patient.”

“I didn’t know you had a name for it,” you chuckled, setting the pencil aside. “And I can’t afford to be patient, we have bills to pay.”

Once again you sighed, reminded of the three envelops of overdue charges that you stuck in your drawer on Friday. You needed a new collection ASAP and it needed to do well otherwise the store would have to close doors and everything you and Maggie had fought for would be over.

She had been with you since the beginning, the marketing and sales guru to your artistic tendencies. Maggie was the one to suggest the store in the first place. The one who built the website for online shopping… Basically, she was the one that made all of this possible and you couldn’t even deliver your end.

“We still have some savings to hold us until next month,” Maggie assured, squeezing your shoulders. “Just go easy on yourself, enjoy your time with Hallie and it will happen.”

At the mention of your niece’s name, you turned your attention at the girl again. She was spotting one of the dresses on sale, along with the personalized denim jacket you made for her, her battered old converse and a pair of aviators from the store. She looked amazing and stylish and you stood up, picking up the camera you kept in the store.

You were hoping to sneak a picture since you knew Hallie hated them, but as soon as she saw the camera, she actually struck a pose for you. Deciding to think about it later, you snapped several pictures of the girl noticing she had a natural talent for modeling.

“Put this one on, please,” you asked, giving Hallie one of the daisy overshirts from the latest collection and she dutifully obeyed before you led her outside where the light was better.

You got lost in the process of taking pictures. It had been quite a while since you had done it. Usually, Maggie was the one to take pictures for the store social media so you forgot how this could be fun, especially with such a willing model. Hallie worked effortlessly through the suggested poses, only pausing to change outfits, always with a wide smile in her face.

“What do we have here?” the familiar smooth baritone of Jason brought you back to the present and you realized it was almost noon. “Hallie willingly letting her picture to be taken?”

You put the camera down, tilting your head to receive the kiss Jason pressed on your cheek, his hand resting on the small of your back as he looked over at Hallie, which made your attention turn to her as well.

Hallie loved Jason. He was like an uncle to her, but right now she was looking from him to you to the point of contact between you two with a deep frown. You didn’t know why her stare made you self-conscious, but you stepped away so Jason was no longer touching you and offered him a quick smile.

“I guess she was feeling generous,” you joked weakly and Jason at least flashed a smile back, but Hallie didn’t react at all.

“Well, I hope I’m not interrupting. Just thought I could take my two favorite girls to lunch.”

His smile widened all white teeth and sweet dimples. His blue eyes warm and hopeful and you felt the familiar warmth in your chest as you nodded, glancing at Hallie once again.

“That sounds great, doesn’t it, Hal?”

“Sure,” the girl replied dryly. “I’m gonna change.”

She was gone before you could even think about saying anything else, leaving you to stand alone with Jason in awkward silence.

“Is everything ok?” he asked, with a confused frown and you just shrugged because you had no idea.

The walk to the deli was made in a strange silence because every time Jason tried to strike up a conversation, Hallie would just give him monosyllabic responses and whenever he tried to talk to you, she would just give you two this look and any conversation would simply die down.

You wished you knew what was happening, why she was being so cold with Jason, but you couldn’t just ask when he was right there. It would be rude.

“Did I do something?” Jason asked when Hallie excused herself to go to the restroom. “I mean, she’s usually hard to please, but today…”

“I don’t know,” you sighed and shrugged. “She’s just…” you trailed off, unsure what to say because how could you definite it without being weird?

“Anyway…” Jason started, thankfully moving on from the subject. “I ran into Becky yesterday.” You just arched your eyebrow at him in expectation, because whenever he ran into his ex trouble seemed to follow. “She’s helping to organize this fashion show in Los Angeles and one of their designers dropped off last minute so I kinda showed some of your stuff and she was interested.”

You froze, bagel halfway to your mouth. Did you just hear Jason right? He had asked his ex-girlfriend, a woman you couldn’t stand, for a spot on her fashion show on your behalf.

“I know what you’re thinking…” Jason started and you snorted.

“I don’t think so.”

“Seriously, I know you have your issues with Becky, but this a real chance for you and the store.” You hated that he was right.

“When is it gonna be?”

“In two weeks,” he said with a grimace. “And it has to be all-new pieces.”

“Fuck!”

You had been struggling for a month to get anything on paper and now you had to have an entire collection ready in two weeks. You wiped the cream cheese filling that has spilled from your bagel on the napkin and looked out the window. There was no way you could do it. But if you didn’t do it, you’d be missing a huge opportunity.

“Alright,” you sighed, squeezing the bridge of your nose. “Tell her yes.”

“You can do this,” Jason said with a smile, taking your hand across the table. “I believe in you.”

You wished you could be as confident in yourself as Jason seemed to be, but right now a knot of anxiety had just formed in your belly, the loose ends snaking around your chest, squeezing your lungs and making it harder to breathe.

“I should get going,” you sighed, grabbing your things just as Hallie finally emerged from the restroom, her expression lighting up as she noticed you were getting ready to leave. “Talk to you later.”

“Bye Justin!” Hallie called out over her shoulder with a barely disguised smirk as she followed you outside, her own uneaten veggie sub in hand.

“What was that?” you asked with a suspicious frown as the two of you made your way back to the store. “Justin?”

“I messed up his name. Sorry.” She shrugged looking to anyone else like the picture of innocent, but you knew better. So you just stared Hallie down, eyebrow crocked up in expectation, arms crossed over your chest. “Fine!” she sighed. “What’s up with you and Jason?”

You weren’t expecting this question and it took you by surprise, making you start walking again as a way to avoid Hallie’s piercing green eyes. She always had a way to look at you that made you just talk about anything even if she was just a kid and you shouldn’t just tell her everything you were feeling.

“He’s a friend, you know that,” you said trying to take the safe path out of this mess.

“Who’s clearly in love with you and you know it, Dave,” Hallie pointed out, quickening her step so she could step in front of you, making you halt. “Do you love him back?”

Of course, it would be Hallie to voice out the question that had been running through your head for years. Did you love Jason back? A part of you wanted to say yes. He was your best friend and had been with you through thick and thin.

He had been there through your parents’ death and Mary’s crisis and her death… He was there through all. He was that person you called when everything turned to shit and part of you knew you loved him. Of course, you did. You just…

“You love him but you’re not in love with him,” Hallie said with a soft smile and you huffed a breath, relief mixed with surprise. When did your kid turn that perceptive?

“I guess,” you shrugged, wrapping an arm around her shoulder so you could restart their walk. “I don’t really know why. He’s great, he’s just not…”

“What you want,” Hallie cut in, as usual, reading your mind and you nodded. “But do you know what you want?”

You thought about it for a moment, considering all the men you had been in love through your life. It had been many, especially not since Hallie, but there were two or three that left you wishing it could have turned into something more.

“He has to be good with kids,” you said at last. “And have a good sense of humor. He needs to understand that you and the store are my priority right now and he needs to have his own thing. I don’t like clingy guys.” You mused a little more, bottom lip caught between your teeth. “He needs to be kind, you know? And loving and supportive.”

As you spoke, you could see Hallie’s smile growing, her eyes looked brighter and excited like she was in on a secret that you weren’t, but you decided to let it go for the time being.

“And he needs to know how to cook, because you know I’m hopeless,” you joked, making Hallie laugh. “So if you know anyone like that, please send him my way?”

“Absolutely, Dave!” Hallie said with a quick wink just as you reached the store.

---

Keanu hummed happily as he busied himself with kneading the dough, a big smile on his face at his family was together joking and laughing as they got everything ready for pizza night as per tradition. It was the first since Annie returned from camp so he was determined to make sure she enjoyed it as much as always.

He would never admit it aloud, but ever since she asked for the camp, Keanu had been silently panicking. Annie was the most important person in his life right now and the thought of her growing up and slowly distancing herself, learning to be more and more independent, terrified him.

Keanu knew that he was being irrational. Annie wasn’t a baby anymore. She was a teenager and of course, she needed her independence and he needed to give her that. Help her build her life. And it wasn’t as if he was one of those parents that live for their kids. Yes, Annie was his priority, but he had Arch and his friends and family. He had a life. Which mostly consisted of his work life lately, but it was still a life, right?

Even if he couldn’t remember the last time he went on a real date with someone he really cared about. Maybe it was time to put himself out there again. Keanu wasn’t getting any younger and even if he had more or less gave up on his idea of the perfect little family, he still wanted to have someone in his life. Someone to share things, to love and support and who would do the same for him. Someone who understood Annie’s place in his life as well as Arch’s and how that didn’t mean Keanu would love them any less. Someone to share the wins and losses, someone to be his partner. Someone…

“Ke, I think the dough is good,” Karen called out making him snap out of his musings and look at her.

She was giving him a half-amused, half worried look from where she was cutting up the veggies for the topping. In her eyes, Keanu could see the silent question: was he ok? Did he need to talk about it?

He sighed and surveyed the kitchen. Annie was working on grating the cheese, while her cousin Daisy worked on the sauce. They were talking quietly and laughing like the great friends they were and Keanu smiled.

Even if he didn’t get that partner that he envisioned, he still knew he would be a pretty happy man. He was luckier than most.

“I’m good,” he whispered to Karen, wiping his hand on his apron, so he could pick up the pizza trays and olive oil spray so they could start spreading the dough. She just nodded in reply, her attention turning the two tweens to check their work.

It took longer than usual to get the two pizzas ready for the oven. One completely meat-free for Annie and Daisy and a pepperoni one for himself and Karen. Keanu really admired his daughter's stances on animal cruelty and he knew she wanted to go completely off animal products, but he still couldn’t bring himself to let her. Not yet at least. And it became something they could bond over, cooking together and the least fun bit of cleaning up together too.

“How long until they’re ready?” Annie asked, gathering the topping ingredients to store in the fridge. “I’m starving.”

Keanu checked the timer before turning to Annie to reply just to freeze as she casually popped a piece of pepperoni in her mouth. He glanced at Karen and his sister had the same bewildered expression that he sure was in his own face.

“Annie, what are you doing?” Daisy exclaimed, her tone getting high pitched and Annie stilled, looking at her. “We don’t eat meat!”

Keanu thought Daisy was overreacting a little bit, but the younger girl idolized Annie, following her around like a shadow whenever she came over to spend the summer and mimicking Annie in all possible ways, from her clothes to favorite music genre and lifestyle choices. Daisy had even gone off meat as well and he knew it was more to impress Annie than out of any real belief of her own.

“Right!” Annie said, looking alarmed as she glanced at her cousin. “Well, the camp had such terrible vegetarian options that I have to go back to eating it, but I’m going off again.”

She put the bowl of pepperoni away almost as if it had burned her before flashing a small sheepish smile to everyone in the kitchen. Keanu just shrugged. Sure it was weird because he was pretty sure he remembered something about the vegetarian menu in the camp as a criterion for her choice, but maybe it was just bad?

To him, it wasn’t a big deal. Annie was learning about herself every passing day and she was bound to go through changes. And sure, ever since she came back from camp, those changes seemed more prominent and it almost felt like Keanu was faced with a brand new Annie, but she was his daughter. She would always be his daughter, no matter how many little or big changes she went through.

So he pushed out of his mind, heading off to the back porch with Karen and some wine so they could watch the stars and talk while Daisy and Annie went to her room to do their hairs or something else.

Keanu laid back on one of the porch chairs, keeping a bit of a distance from his sister as he puffed in his cigarette, deep in thought. He could hear Karen shifting in her own seat, her intense gaze, much like his own, set on him.

“So mom is coming over next week,” she said conversationally and Keanu just nodded. He knew it already. “She has news to share.”

“Which usually means she has a new boyfriend,” Keanu sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Hope he’s not a dick like that Richard guy.”

“Me too,” Karen snorted. “How come our mom has a better love life than us?”

“I have no idea,” Keanu replied with a chuckle of his own. “Maybe we should ask for tips or something.”

“Maybe.”

“Or maybe we should accept the fate that we’re gonna die single and alone,” he joked dryly and Karen snorted.

“Aren’t you cheerful person, tonight?” she said, giving him the sideways glance. “Is that what got you so moody? Singlehood?”

“Not moody, just…” he paused, considering his words, but he couldn’t find a way to really describe it. “I’m 55. Maybe it’s time to just let go. Dating, I mean. I have my family and Arch and my friends… that’s enough, right?”

“Ke…” Karen let out a long exhale and once again he could feel her gaze on him, heavy and worried. “You’ve always wanted to get married. Maybe it’s taking a bit longer, but you’re gonna find that right person. I’m sure of it.” She reached over to squeeze his hand. “I bet they’re somewhere out there and when time is right, they’ll come into your life. I do believe in fate, you know?”

“Well, could you tell fate to hurry the fuck up?” Keanu joked with a grin, squeezing Karen’s hand back to let her know he was alright and that she didn’t need to worry about him.

And even if she was wrong. Even if that person never came, Keanu knew he would be alright. He had everything he needed right here.

xxx (tbc) xxx

Permanent Tag List (give me a shout if you want to added or removed)

@toomanystoriessolittletime @meetmeinthematinee @theolsdalova  @beyond-antares @cumberbatchbaps @sgt-morgan @futuristic-imbecile  @a-really-bi-girl @fanficsrusz  @poisonedjoinery @soarocks @penwieldingdreamer​  @partypoison00 @hnryycvll @kevia1000 @krazycags01​ @howtoruin-someones-perfect-day​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @alwaydreamingofu​

Tag list for Paren Trap

@tnu-ree​ @babyspiderling​

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves x reader #fanfic #alternate universe #parent trap #series #request

[sophieakatz]

Thursday Thoughts: We Made It All Up

This morning, I went grocery shopping. I was all out of bread; even when I’m not packing lunches, sandwiches are my go-to midday meal.

Aldi had pretty much everything you could want today, as long as you were looking for food and not toilet paper. It also had signs taped on the walls and on the floor near the registers, advising people to stand six feet apart. These blue signs had little figures on them, like you’d see on a restroom sign, with a helpful “6ft” arrow between them.

But what did six feet mean, really?

I am five foot eight, give or take a fraction of an inch. It’s not quite six feet, but it’s close, and I soon caught myself thinking about the space around me in terms of whether I could lie down on the ground between me and the man who’d parked his cart in front of the deli meat. A Sophie is now a unit of measurement for social distancing. Though a more useful unit would be an Elie – my brother, who is actually over six feet tall.

When I was little, I read a picture book which explained that we call this unit of measurement a “foot” because in the old days, whoever was king at the time would decree that his foot length was the kingdom’s official unit of length measurement. So, whenever there was a new king, the “foot” was redefined. Everyone just had to be flexible and go along with it.

What I found interesting about this story as a child was the revelation that there was nothing inherent about the “foot” unit itself. We might as well have drawn a line on the ground and said “stop” at an arbitrary point – and we probably did, in the end, now that we aren’t measuring our leaders’ feet as a construction standard. We could have decided to divide the foot into any number of inches, as well. But we chose twelve, and we all agreed, and continue to agree, to use it, though other countries support the equally arbitrary meter.

I think we forget sometimes that we invented the foot, and the inch, and pretty much everything else we use to understand the world and interact in it.

In college I learned that it costs two cents to create a penny, which is worth one cent of purchasing power. I realized then that, like the foot and the inch, there is nothing inherent about money at all. We made it up.

We’ve all agreed that this little silver coin means this amount of money, and this other little silver coin means a different amount of money. And we’ve all agreed that this specific product is worth this amount of money, and we agree that that “worth” can change from time to time.

And now – because of convenience, because of how much we buy, because physical coins transmit disease – we are more likely to use a number on a computer as money, instead of anything actually physical. Money exists more as an idea, a concept, than as a thing. Money is a form of playing make-believe which is socially sanctioned – required, even – for adults to participate in. When I hear people on the news talking about the economy, how we need to make sacrifices for the economy, how if we don’t get people working and buying and spending again like we always have (even though we currently are unable to) then the economy will collapse, it confuses me.

Has everyone forgotten that we made up the economy? Why are we talking about it like an inherent, immutable, unchangeable force of nature?

A few months back, I overheard one of my coworkers at the Disney parks having a bit of an existential crisis. She had seen a small child running up to his mother after the boat ride, shouting, “That was beautiful!” And it had occurred to her that the child didn’t really know what “beautiful” was. He was just saying what he had overheard the adults around him say. He was just making noises.

Where, she wondered, did meaning come from? Did words truly mean anything? Did anything truly mean anything or was it all made up?

She’s right – words are just noises. We have all agreed that this sound means this thing. And in different parts of the world, people looked at the same things and came up with different sounds to agree upon. There is nothing inherent about language, and it occurred to me for the hundredth time, that this is all made up.

But it still matters.

When we talk about things that were “made up,” there’s a connotation that the thing doesn’t matter. Things that are real, true, concrete, inherent matter. You can draw people into theatres by calling a film “based on a true story,” even if the only part of it that’s remotely “true” is the main character’s name. (As if all stories, all fiction, is not somehow based on reality.)

There’s a dog which uses a soundboard to communicate with her owner. You can find videos on Instagram on the account hunger4words. This dog has been taught since puppyhood that this sound, on this button, means this thing.

One of the buttons on the dog’s board is for “beach.” It’s clearly one of her favorite buttons to press – what dog doesn’t like the beach? One day, the button broke, and the owners took it off the board. Later they posted a video of the dog sniffing at the spot where the “beach” button used to be. Then the dog moved across the board, pressing the buttons for “water” and “outside.”

Sometimes people comment on these videos referring to this as miraculous, ascribing a level of human cognition to the dog. Others call bullshit and say that the dog has no idea what words are, and this is just mimicry or coincidence.

I don’t claim to know how self-aware this animal is, whether or not she understands the concept of a word. But she is obviously communicating. Where other dogs would bark to get what they want, this dog has been taught that she gets what she wants when she presses a specific button, making a specific sound.

This dog and her owner have agreed that this sound – “beach” – means this thing – “let’s go outside to that place with the water.” Another dog and her owner might agree that this specific bark means “let’s go outside.” It’s the same thing. It’s all made up, and it matters.

There’s nothing inherent about words or language. What is inherent is the basic drive to communicate, to create symbolic meaning so that we can understand each other and work together as a society. The fact that we make all this up matters! The fact that we put these symbols and systems to use matters!

And maybe if we recognize that we did make all this up – money and words and the way we measure the world – then maybe we can free ourselves up to re-make it up, to change things in ways that help more people improve their lives, rather than feeling enslaved to the way things have “always” been.

#thursday thoughts #philosophical #language #money #covid19 #covid 19 #hunger4words #hunger for words #communication #coronavirus #society #measurement #meaning #introspective #nonfiction #social distancing

[michael-langdon-baby]

Salvation ( Michael Langdon x OC)

Pairing: Michael Langdon x Original Character

Word Count: 3k~

Warnings: Blood

Chapter 1: The  End (x)

Chapter 2: The Beginning (x)

Chapter 3: Purple or Grey (x)

Chapter 4: Worship

July 12, 2017

Jessie March had asked out Miriam Mead last Tuesday, inviting her to a ladies night out- which would most likely consist of having more than a few cocktails at the nearest high end bar and complaining about dead beat husbands that got more than they deserved.

Miriam had told her that she was busy that night, but the following Wednesday would be perfect. And Wednesday had arrived with a shockingly breezy day, the obliterating heat of the sun being clouded by the foggy sky.

Julie stood nervously in the center of her room, nimble fingers fidgeting as her eyes darted around the place she called home. It had felt slightly unsafe since her dream about Michael- uncertain if he had actually been there or not.

The burn on her left nipple had stayed for days, almost a week and now a small scar still remained.

There was no denying the unforgettable pleasure that had run through her veins at the feel of his tongue eating her out, and the pleasure and pain he’d brought as his teeth had turned her soft dusty nipples a harsh red.

She hadn’t touched herself since, had thrown away the vibrator and vowed to keep him from her thoughts whenever she craved an orgasmic relief. But it was hard to not think about him, or the way his touch had driven her crazy.

Was it insane to want someone you’d never met? If so, then she belonged in the Looney bin for life.

“Are you ready Julie? It’s time to head over.”

Jessie March watched her daughter bite her lip with a nervous look, “Honey, are you still nervous? Please don’t stress yourself out, you’re just going over to meet Michael and hang out until Miriam and I have had our fun. Won’t be more than two hours.”

Julie nodded at her mom’s words before stepping out of her room, closing the door and following her mom down the stairs. They shut off all the lights and stepped out into the brisk night air, locking the door and walking across the lawn.

Julie needed to remember to breath; why was she so nervous? It was just some kid her age who was either going to be another boy who was full of shit or just another guy. And yet, she didn’t even believe herself in saying that Michael from next door was just some guy.

“Don’t forget to smile.” Jessie rang the doorbell and both March women gave off smile brighter than sunlight. There were a few beats were they simply stood and waited with bright smiles and baited breath.

The door swung open and Julie felt her heart plunge into her stomach; so this was Michael Langdon.

He looked younger than she pictured- could remember- but it didn’t faze her. His golden hair was curled around the crown of his head and he donned a yellow shirt with blue jeans, bare feet standing on the wood floor with creamy toes that tapped an uncertain beat.

But his face was what caught her, what caused an uptick in her rapidly beating heart and the smile already present to become wider. Those deep sea blue eyes- they were as if the ocean waves had become entrapped in a sphere and placed into the perfect orbs to see the world.

The golden locks, the blue eyes, and the smile that could bring the world to its knees were enough to have her biting her lip in want, a familiar tingle in her lower half making her ache.

“You must be Michael, I’m Jessie March, and this is my daughter Julie. Is Miriam ready to go?”

Michael used every will in his body to turn his eyes away from the decadent and haunting beauty that was Julie March, and went to find Ms. Mead. His fingers itched to grip the flesh of her cheeks and feel the warmth of her supple chest; he wanted to consume her.

Did he have any idea where this want came from? Not really.

But oh Satan, he could still taste her sweet cunt on his lips and hear her cries for a release that no other could give her. His steps faltered as he neared Mead’s room, a deep desire for his next-door neighbor coursing through his veins.

“Was that them Michael? Can’t believe you talked me into this shit show- whoa boy are you okay?” Miriam Mead walked out of her bedroom looking just as dressed in black as normal, but donned a pair of petite heels that clicked as she walked. She marched over to Michael when he keeled over.

He shook her off, “No, no, It’s nothing. I’m alright.”

She looked like she didn’t believe him but he insisted, walking with her to the front door and feeling a sense of relief with Julie in sight once more. He had this overwhelming urge to grab and hold her in his arms, to stuff her in his room and keep her for himself.

Michael had never felt like this before, but now wasn’t the time to worry.

“Oh Miriam, you look lovely. You ready?” Miriam Mead patted Michael on the back and shot Julie a look that made her cringe.

“Have fun you two. We’ll be back soon.”

The door shut with a moderate slam and they both heard the two women drive off into the night.

It was silent between them, Michael wanting to hug her and Julie wanting to fall to her knees for him. But neither things happened, and instead Julie smiled at Michael.

“So, what do you have planned for us?”

His eyes lit up at her inquiry of how they would be spending the few hours they had before the two older women returned, and he eagerly reached forward and plucked her hand that had been laying at her side, leading the way.

He took her the kitchen and sat her down in a chair, moving to the fridge and puling out two plates, each having half corn half bologna sandwiches.

“We don’t have that much, but the corn is good.” She hadn’t had corn in ages but ate it with a smile though avoided the bologna, she wasn’t a fan of deli meat. He ate with eagerness, but his eyes watched her and smirked around a mouthful of meat when her cheeks turned dark under his unfaltering gaze.

When they finished he took their plates and eagerly took her soft hand again, leading them down a hall and up one set of stairs, stopping at what must have been his room.

The door was a deep blue and her brows furrowed at the upside down cross resting on a hook. She didn’t have time to question it when he yanked her in with a surprising force, shutting the door behind them.

His room looked no different from what she could see from her window; a twin sized bed with blue sheets, a nightstand with a lamp that donned a yellow shade, and a white closet near the door.

It was barren for a teenager, or maybe she just like material goods. He watched her eagerly, “You’re the first girl I’ve ever had here.”

It shocked her but it didn’t show on her face, “Well aren’t I the lucky one.”

He plopped himself on the bed and watched her, patting the open space to his left. She sat next to him, eyes darting between their touching thighs and his sea blue orbs.

“So, is Ms. Mead your mom? You don’t really share any-“ She motioned to his face and he smiled.

“She took me in when my grandma died. She’s my family, she’ll always be there for me.” He spoke with such certainty that it made her soften.

They were silent for a minute, Julie looking around the room to try and start a conversation, but that was more than a little difficult.

“So what do you do for fun?” He bit his lip and stared into her eyes, “I’m usually with Ms. Mead; she keeps me company.”

“Well what about when Ms. Mead isn’t here? Then what do you do?”

He bit his lip and fiddled with the end of his shirt, “Sometime I try to talk to my father, other times I look at you.”

She watched his look at her, waiting for a response. It was surprising that the fact that he watched her didn’t frighten or creep her out, “How do you look at me?”

“From my window. I can see you sleeping at night and sometimes you’re with another girl.” His voice grew soft and wary, “Please don’t be mad.”

Hell, why wasn’t she mad? He just admitted to watching her from his window and yet this invasion of privacy didn’t scare her. In fact, it made her feel strangely warm at the fact that he watched her.

“I watch you too sometimes.”

The two teens stared at each other with wide eyes and unsure thoughts. Michael was the one to make the first move.

His slightly shaking hand reached up, thumb tracing her bottom lip, “M-May I touch you?”

Her eyes drifted from his gaze to the wandering thumb, watching as it swiped across her damp bottom limp, a wetness appearing on the pad of his thumb that he promptly brought it his mouth for a taste. It was sensual to say the least.

They continued staring, but Michael broke the silence first. “Would you be my friend?”

Julie eagerly nodded and Michael gave her a sweet child like smile. They both didn’t know it yet, but they were meant to be, and this was only the beginning.

~

“Why do you have to go?”

Julie looked in the mirror and shot Michael’s reflection a deadpan look, going to back to applying her lipstick.

She had Michael had become closer over the coming weeks; she had found he would show up exactly ten minutes after she came home from school, and would sit on her bed with his nose in her pillow, listening to her describe her day with wide attentive eyes.

He didn’t go to school, and she knew better than to grill him as to why he sat at home all day, didn’t he get lonely? Why didn’t Ms. Mead make him get an education like everyone else her age?

“Because I made a promise to my mom and the desk clerk Liz that I would visit twice a month, every other Saturday and as you can tell, its Saturday.”

“But I want you here.” She capped up her mascara and turned around, placing her hands on her hips. “Why don’t you just come with me? I could use the company, it’s a pretty creepy Hotel.”

Her bare legs walked across the floor to the dresser, eyes searching for a pair of pants, feeling his eyes on her ass the whole time. They weren’t entirely innocent friends; sometimes Michael would plant his face in her breasts and lay there for a bit, or like right now, he would stare at her with the lust of a teenage boy.

After dancing into her tight jeans she turned around, Michael red in the face and quickly looking away.

There was this strange innocence to Michael that made her feel… well, she couldn’t really explain it. It was like seeing in warm and cold colors, and Michael was just so warm. He was a blanket on a cold day and a heat she felt to her core.

He was silent at her question she asked again, “C’mon, if you come with me then I can show you all the creepy murder rooms. I feel like that’s right up your alley.” A wiggle with her brows was enough to have Michael up and crossing the floor, standing in front of her with a look of wonder on his face.

“Murder rooms?” She nodded and he bounced on the balls of his feet, giving her a smile that warmed her heart. He stopped moving around enough for them to be face to face, his heart beating out of his chest and her own fingers itching to entangle with hers.

The bedroom door opening had Julie pulling back, a frown falling on Michael’s face as Jessie March walked in, “You ready Jules? Wanna beat the traffic, oh- are you coming along Michael?”

“Sure Mom, we’ll be downstairs in a sec.” Jessie March nodded at her daughter and took her leave, not shutting the door.

“Why did she call you Jules?” Michael had understood her name to be Julie, and she shrugged it off as she sprayed a cloud of perfume and walked through it.

“No reason, just a nickname. She says I’m the family jewel, so Jules.”

Michael thought she was a jewel, a shining diamond in the rough that he wanted to carry with him always. “Can I call you Jules too?”

She held out her hand and he took it eagerly, “Of course. I see no reason why you can’t.” The two walked out of the room, closing the door softly and trotting down the stairs with intertwined fingers.

~

Miriam Mead plated up two bowls of pasta, the one for Michael being bigger than hers- he was a growing boy; more food would be good for him.

“And how was your day?” Miriam sat his bowl down and watched with a smile as he said his evening prayer.

“Bless us Dark Lord, for these thy gifts that we are about to receive…” He finished his prayer and they both dug in, Michael smiling at his Aunt.

“Did you know there are dead people in the Hotel Cortez? I was there today with Jules and her great grandfather followed her.” Mead watched as he bit into a large meatball. “I should’ve sent him to my father, but he protects her from the evil ones.”

“Sounds like a good day then.” He nodded and inquired about her day, smiling as she rambled about meeting women in the neighborhood, planning out future victims and such. His good mood dropped when he remembered a bit of information that he required from Ms. Mead.

He dropped his fork with a ding and gave Mead a dead serious look.

“Do you know if it’s her? If she’s the one?” Miriam sat down her fork and gave him a smile, “Only you can answer that Michael.”

A pain in her throat had her gasping for air, wide eyes watching as he stared at her with unaltered rage. He rarely took his anger out on her.

“I wont ask you again Ms. Mead.” He released her throat and she told him the truth, which is she really didn’t know, that only he could answer that for himself.

“Fine.” The table collapsed in on itself when he pushed away from it, running upstairs and shutting his door. Michael shed his shirt and opened his closet; hands gripping the jagged blade Miriam had gifted him shortly after he’d come into her care.

He had only done this once, but he had come back and received the answers he had needed. And right now, he had to know if Julie March was the one who was meant to be by his side when he burned the world, the one who would be his light in the eternal darkness. Some deep part of him knew it was her; that just by seeing her warm smiles and tasting her sweet cunt that she was.

But he had to be sure; so he took the jagged blade and started speaking,

“May you rise from the void, Father. May your darkness guide me.” He flinched as the blade dug into his wrist, blood flooding out. He started digging up and up, letting the river flow.

“Power in Satan to overcome my weaknesses.” He mimicked the incision on the other arm.

“Power in your name, to be strong within.” It always hurt to let the blood flow, and he fell to his knees as it pooled around him.

He fell to his knees when he heard the whispers around the room, penetrating his mind with knowledge no man could give him. His fingers now covered in blood and mind barely aware moved his hands in sync to draw a bloody pentagram beneath his knees.

Tears streamed down his face as pain and pleasure became one, a dark shadow erupting before him.

“I seek your guidance. I thought it wasn’t true, but she lives. I found her, she’s here.” The whispers grew stronger, but he needed more. “I beg for your wisdom.”

He could hear the shadowed figure as clear as day, but he needed to see. “Please, Father! Open my eyes!”

He slumped forward, the blood loss making him weak- such a human trait- but that cold dark hand lifted him up and told him everything he needed to hear. His father told him the truth- that Julie March would stand by his side and that her existence was key to his survival, the world’s end, everything.

He grew stronger now, felt his body replenishing the missing blood as his father healed him, ready to return to the depths of hell once more, but not without a farewell from his only son.

The words left his bloody lips like a sweet song,

“Ave Satanas”

Julie March shot awake in her bed, chest heaving with a breath that she desperately craved. It took a few moments for her heart to calm down to a normal rate, fingers clenching her covers tightly. Her eyes darted around every corner of the room, searching for anything out of the ordinary- or out of that nightmare.

A quick turn of the head with a peek out her window showed Michael’s lights off. She fell back against her bed with a huff; it had just been a dream. But instead of simply falling back asleep she reached for her phone on the nightstand, clicking it on and opening Safari.

He fingers typed in the words ‘Ave Satanas’ and her eyes bulged out at the Google official definition of the Latin words she’d heard in her dreams.

Hail Satan

#michael langdon #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon fanfic #michael langdon smut #michael langdon fluff #michael langdon imagines #ahs fanfiction #ahs apocalypse #ahs season 8 #ahs multi chapter #ahs #ahs imagines #ahs fluff #apocalypse fluff #possessive michael langdon #cody fern fanfic #cody fern #cody fern smut #cody fern fluff #ahs 1 #murder house #Outpost 3 #ahs rubber man #ahs murder house #ahs murder house fanfic #ahs 8 fanfic

[nonbinarysalemwitch]

Soapbox

So, I am 31 weeks into my first full term pregnancy. I’ve been pregnant 3 other times, but haven’t ever had the “real experience” until now because of all the complications. Because of this, I feel like I came into this experience with sore misconceptions of what it would be like.

The media, for the most part, paints pregnancy with rose colored glasses. It’s a miracle! You have a “pregnancy glow”! Motherhood changes you for the better! Etc, etc. To me, a mother who has had trouble conceiving, I agree that it is a miracle. But, goodness is it WEIRD.

Here are some things that I was not really expecting to deal with...

Morning sickness: First of all, it doesn’t always happen in the morning. Second of all I had to quit my job because of it. My “morning sickness” was all day, every day for about 8 weeks straight. It wasn’t like they show in the movies, either. Where the mother-to-be has a sudden rush of nausea and runs to the bathroom for a good vomit. No! I sat over the toilet for HOURS waiting for the continual gagging to stop. Most of the time it was like acid reflux gone a little too far. Not quite vomiting, not quite not vomiting...

Waiting: The first trimester is BORING. Most people choose not to tell a lot of others outside of their spouse, close friends or family, because you just never really know whats going to happen. I had to tell my boss, personally, because I was high risk and couldn’t perform a lot of my daily tasks without putting the baby at risk. However, it’s a lot of waiting around for week 12/13/14 to be able to share the good news and a lot of avoiding situations while you’re trying to keep it a secret. I was not ready to tell my extended family as soon as I did, but since I was in the 1st trimester around the holidays it was nearly unavoidable.

Loneliness: In he 1st trimester, not being able to tell your friend groups or coworkers can seriously hinder your social life. A lot of people end up just cancelling all social plans until they’re able to tell, so as to not raise suspicion. But another very real aspect of loneliness that I find creeping up on me is the realization that this reduction in social life will likely be permanent after birth. Friends always say that they will want to be around the baby all the time, they’ll babysit for you whenever you need, blah blah blah. These are all very well intended promises, but in reality... A mother-to-be becomes less fun to be around. Having to take care of the baby can get in the way of conversation, hinders your ability to go out in public spaces, and can frankly make some people feel uncomfortable. It’s not fun to sit awkwardly in someone’s living room while the mother is trying to sooth a screaming baby for 30 minutes. Plus, people have lives outside of you and your child that make it hard for them to keep those promises. It’s something that I’m sure I will resent, but am completely expecting and also understand.

Pain: I’m not talking about birth pain. I’m talking about day-to-day pains. Your body starts changing IMMEDIATELY from the moment of conception, and for many women this means they will develop “tender” breasts. I figured this one would be easy because, well, periods. I was not expecting horrible pain every time I hit a pothole, which is hard to avoid in Michigan! Also, back pain, which a lot of people don’t expect until they start “showing”. Nah, your organs are moving and your bones are adjusting the whole time. It sucks. I bought a heating pad and blanket by the time the 1st trimester was coming to a close.

Pregnancy Glow: It’s sweat. It’s unattractive. Surprise! Hot flashes are not just for menopause. I am so grateful that I was able to have the majority of my pregnancy in the fall/winter.

Headaches: Apparently headaches and migraines are SUPER common for second trimester. Mine were debilitating. From weeks 12-16 I found myself unable to get out of bed some days, definitely unable to leave my bedroom (because we have blackout curtains), and my water bill rising considerably from taking showers to try to sooth the pain. Ibuprofen, historically, is the only thing that helps me with headaches, but I wasn’t able to take it because it’s not pregnancy approved. 

No appetite: Media shows a lot of women, from the moment of conception, gorging on all their favorite foods and having cravings constantly. This was not the case for me. For much of my first and second trimesters all food was completely repulsive to me. I couldn’t even be in the same room as someone eating because it would make me so sick. When I forced myself to eat because, well, it’s vital for my survival, I would throw up anything that I ate. I was sticking to vitamin supplement and dietary drinks to try to keep my- and the baby’s- nutrients up. I lost a total of 30 pounds, and I’m slowly gaining weight now. Luckily, I was plus-size to begin with, so it wasn’t too detrimental to either of us. 31 weeks in and I still don’t have a lot of cravings. I just like my food a certain way and have changes in preferences. For instance, I’m basically a vegetarian at this point because my body doesn’t like most meats. 

Dietary restrictions: With media showing women gorging themselves on foods all day every day, they don’t really talk about things women can’t, or shouldn’t eat. Hot dogs, for example. Or deli meats. Soft cheeses... Ya know, the good things in life. Most of these things don’t pose a serious problem, but they can, so it’s best to avoid it. I have the app Ovia, which has a list of foods that are super good and super bad, so I took a look at that sucker right away.

Sex drive: I’ve never been an overly sexual person. I consider myself queer, because bi doesn’t quite fit. But because I know that sex is an important part of a romantic relationship/marriage, and I want to make my partner happy, it’s never really been something that I struggle with. However, my sex drive is at an absolute ZERO. I have no desire to satisfy myself or my partner- I even get angry when he brings it up (which I apologize for constantly). Media portrays pregnant people as being very horny, which I’m sure happens to some people, but I’ve found my already desolate libido at an all time low. When I do make the conscious effort to have sex, it’s painful quite often. Again, bodily changes...

Kicking: Kicking really seems like an understatement, since it feels like she’s break dancing inside me. I’ve been told my several ultrasound technicians, nurses and doctors that my daughter is much more active than most babies. She is CONSTANTLY moving. She wakes my up from a dead sleep my kicking me in the spine or ribs. If the cats want to lay on my stomach she will forcefully kick them. Weirdly, though, she seems to know when people are watching, because she almost never kicks in front of people... 

Emotional changes: I don’t think I’ve been more emotional, personally. I mean, yeah, I’ll tear up at the occasional episode of doctor who, a cute song, or a sad movie, but that’s all normal. The biggest thing for me was the rage. During the second trimester especially I found myself so angry and I had no idea why I was half the time. Everything irritated me. My husband, but pets, getting a text. I lived several weeks in a state of near hatred toward everything in my life. It was unbearable. Also, anxiety over EVERYTHING. I can hardly get in a car, let alone drive one. 

Criticism: This is probably the biggest one that I have battled with. I get told an awful lot that I don’t act like a typical mom-to-be. I haven’t bought a ton of baby clothes, I’m not going all out on the nursery, and I have very realistic expectations of what being a mom/having a baby is like. Which, if you vocalize, people look at you really weird for. I have specifically asked people not to buy clothes for the baby because they’re mostly white or very minimalist. Why? Because babies poop and vomit and spit up, and I would like my baby to wear her onsies more than once. Apparently it’s shocking to people that I unlocked the secret that babies are messy before mine is born. No, I am not naming my child after people in the family, sorry. No I don’t need to buy more maternity clothes because I only own leggings and almost all of my shirts are 3x larger than they need to be already. Please don’t touch my stomach without permission. No, I am not afraid of giving birth, in fact, I’m looking forward to it.

It’s amazing to watch TV shows and movies with pregnant women in them now, because I’m finally experiencing it. I think my favorite thing I have watched though, is the Try Guys Parenthood season. They ask the doctor “what are some of the positives of pregnancy” and she says, “the baby” and leaves it at that. Yep, that’s about it! 

I’m not trying to say I’m never going to have another child. I will. My husband and I want 3 to 4 kids. However, people that say that pregnancy is the most magical experience, or beautiful part of life... I think they’re lying.

#pregnant #pregnancy #mom #mom to be #baby #babies #birth

[takemeawaytocamelot]

A Wild Night in Vegas -- Part 15.1

You read that right. 15.1. This was another hella long chapter, that was just as magnificent as the rest. @outlandishchridhe finally had a little time so we plotted this one out. It won’t be as long as 14, but we’re getting close to the Due Date. @widchadidcha, no more complaining. And stop trying to recruit my cats! 

It’ll be below a cut because it’s still a bit lengthy. Let me know if you can’t read it and I’ll see what I can do.

Catch up on all previous installments HERE

Fraser Bairn Watch: Month 9

“We’ve some things to do today, Sassenach. If ye’d rather stay home, I can get everything done.”

“No!” she said, setting her book down and struggling to get off the couch. “No I want to come.”

Jamie’s mouth quirked.

“Running low on your craving snacks?”

Pursing her lips, she glared at him.

“Maybe. Or maybe I just want to spend time with my husband.”

“Oh, weel then in that case, shall we waddle out to the car?”

This time she let the glare drop and threw a pillow at him instead. It got him right in his smug face, making her smile. But they joined hands and headed out to the car. Jamie helped her into the seat, refraining from saying anything more about her size.

They made a stop to pay the rent on the apartment before the rest of their shopping. Jamie, Claire had learned, loved to cook for her. Whenever his schedule allowed he took advantage of it to feed her properly. As they wandered around the grocery store, Jamie with his list in hand, while Claire picked things up at random and put them in the cart.

“What are ye gonna do wi’ that, Sassenach?” he asked, glancing down at a large bag of carrots.

“Your little girl is a fiend for veggies,” she said, eyeing the sale on cucumbers.

“I think,” Jamie said, shaking out a produce bag. “You’re using the boy as an excuse to eat whatever ye want.”

“Are you going to try and stop me, Mr. Fraser?”

Jamie snorted.

“God no! I prefer my bollocks remain as they are, I thank ye.”

Claire rolled her eyes and filled bag with cucumbers while Jamie held it open for her. As she did, she noticed a blonde woman behind Jamie look him over with obvious interest. When her eyes met Claire’s, she backed away hastily.

At the deli, Jamie spoke to the butcher about different cuts of meat. Claire pulled a grape off the stem in their cart and popped it into her mouth.

“If ye keep doing that we’ll have no grapes at home, mo ghraidh.”

“Are you going to stop me?”

“No. I’m only wondering if maybe I should get another bushel so I can have some too.”

The butcher stepped away to fill Jamie’s order and a lanky woman in heels stood next to him.

“I’m afraid I’m hopeless when it comes to meat,” she said in a voice pitched too high.

“I’m no’ a butcher.”

“Oh!” The woman said, practically quivering as she stood beside Jamie. “That’s such an interesting accent! Where are you from?”

Jamie flashed the woman his polite smile, but Claire knew just how deadly it was. When she saw it in the morning it struck her to her heart.

“Scotland, originally.”

“Oh wow! I’ve never been outside of Nevada, but Scotland must be amazing.”

“Aye,” he said. “It is.”

Claire, giving the woman her blackest look, came up on Jamie’s side and put her arm around him.

“What have you gotten for us, darling?” she asked sweetly.

Jamie gave her a curious look before putting his arm around her as much as he could.

“Thought we could have some steaks tomorrow night.”

“That sounds good to me!”

The butcher came back with Jamie’s request and handed the paper-wrapped meat to him.

“Anything else I can get you?”

Jamie shook his head.

“No, that’s all I needed. Thank ye.”

Finished with the week’s grocery shopping, they headed to another store for laundry detergent and a few other housekeeping things. When they walked in, she took his hand and walked close to him. The action made him smile down at her fondly, though he didn’t ask why she’d become suddenly clingy.

“Are we going to get you new boots for work?” Claire asked as they got back in the car.

“Well we canna go right now. We’ve got three different kinds of ice cream in the boot.”

Ignoring his comment about her inability to choose a flavor of ice cream, she went on.

“But this is the only time we both have off right now. How about we drop the groceries off and go get you the boots?”

“Alright.”

After the groceries were put away, they went out to the shoe store. Claire wandered through the clearance racks while Jamie hunted for what he wanted. When things got quiet, Claire went in search of her husband.

She found him sitting in a comfortable chair, his leg extended and his foot in a woman’s hand.

“You’ve got very large feet, Mr. Fraser.”

“Aye, I do. Look, I dinna need to be sized, I ken-”

“No no, Mr. Fraser. I want to make sure you get just the right shoe.”

Claire’s mouth fell open when the woman held Jamie’s leg just a little too long, her hand almost caressing his calf. To his credit, he pulled his foot away from her and gave her a tight smile.

“I thank ye, lass. But I ken what boot I want.”

The woman, whose nametag read “KELSI”,  got up from the floor where she’d been kneeling and let out a longing sigh. Jamie fetched the boots he needed and took the box up to the front to pay for them. The woman’s eyes were zeroed in on Jamie’s backside, making Claire’s blood boil.

Stepping up beside him, she let her hand slide down his back and slip into his back pocket. Once there, she gave his buttocks a firm squeeze. He stiffened and cast her a strange look from the corner of his eye, but said nothing. The girl Kelsi was staring at them in open shock as they left.

“Not that I mind ye fondling my arse from time to time, Sassenach,” Jamie said, closing the boot. “But can I ask why ye felt it necessary in the shoe shop?”

“That girl was trying to fondle your calves. Had to mark my territory.”

“Ah,” he said with a bright smile. “I see.”

As he drove them home, she watched him. Blue eyes moved cautiously around, taking in everything to drive safely. Claire put her hand on his shoulder and smiled, rubbing it gently.

“Are ye alright, Sassenach?”

“Oh, quite.”

He pulled to a stop at a red light and took a deep breath.

“Would ye like that cucumber salad wi’ your steak tomorrow night?” he asked, voice thoughtful.

“Sure,” her hand slid down his arm and back up before moving to his chest.

Jamie gave her a warning look.

“As much as I enjoy the way you’re touching me, I canna say it’s a good idea just now.”

“You didn’t even see them, did you?”

Frowning, he pulled away from the intersection, her hand moving down his torso to his upper thigh.

“See who?”

“Those women today. Besides the one that was trying to feel up your trouser leg.”

“Didna-” he stopped and yelped when she reached between his legs. “Christ almighty, woman! I’m driving a bloody car!”

He swatted her hand away, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“Then pull over somewhere.”

“We’re less than ten minutes from home. Surely ye can wait that long.”

Slowly, she shook her head, trying to reach for him again. Once more, he slapped her hand away. Stopping at another red light, he turned to her and glared, shaking his index finger at her.

“Beee. Haaaaaveeeee. Behave!”

Huffing, she folded her arms over her protruding belly and glared out the windscreen.

Finally home, they climbed the stairs to their apartment and Claire felt his gaze on her backside. She let her hips sway a little more than necessary, thinking over the looks the other women had been giving him. Jamie hadn’t really seen them, taken almost no notice of their attentions.

Leaning against the wall, she waited for him to pull out his keys and unlock the door. She’d left hers on the hook inside before they’d left. He smiled as her arms wound around his waist. Difficult as it was, she moved in to kiss the side of his neck. He smirked as the deadbolt released.

“Feeling a bit needy, mo chridhe?”

“Two different women flirted with you today and I lost count how many others were staring at your ass. But you didn’t hardly look at them.”

“That’s because,” he held the door open for her. “I’ve the most beautiful woman waiting for me at home. One whom I love and am married to and who carries my child. Why would I need to look elsewhere?”

Keys in his hand, he reached to hang them up on their usual peg, but she caught him up and kissed him. The door behind him was still open, but neither of them noticed. His smooth lips moved against hers hungrily, as if he needed to devour her then and there. The box with his new boots dropped to the floor with a loud bang. Both his hands held her face between them pulling her closer to deepen their kiss. He kicked the door closed and she pushed him against it.

He hit hard enough to drive the air from his lungs. She began pulling his shirt up, nearly desperate for a satisfaction only he could give.

“It’s been a while,” he said, voice muffled as his shirt came off. “Since ye’ve been like this.”

She bit his neck gently, smiling at his sharp intake of breath.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“God, no!”

One hand reached up and tangled in his hair as she bit down harder on the side of his neck. Her other dipped below the lip of his jeans, fumbling with the button for a moment before feeling it finally release. Jamie grunted a little when her hand wrapped around him.

“Easy there, Sassenach. I ken yer excited and all, but maybe no’ use your vise grip, aye?”

Letting go his neck, she met his eyes and smiled.

“Am I being too rough on you?”

“A bit. Hold too hard on that and we’ll have no more fun wi’ it.”

“Mm… That’s a good point.”

His own hands, which had been toying with her curls, slid down to cup her backside.

“Christ you’ve the roundest arse,” he mumbled against her lips.

“Always been fond of that,” she muttered back, and felt his answering smile against her lips.

“We canna exactly make love in this position.”

She looked down and saw his point, with her belly keeping her from getting her hips closer to his. After a moment of consideration, she stepped back and began unbuttoning her shirt before working hastily at her maternity trousers.

“How about the back way?” she asked, using him to keep her balance while she stepped out of the trousers. “And who said anything about making love?”

“My God ye look so beautiful.”

He reached out and put his hands on her taught belly, smiling as the baby moved. She smiled up fondly at him for a brief second before reaching for his trousers. This would never get started if she let him feel the baby forever, and she needed this to happen.

Turning, she put her palms on the door, looked over her shoulder at him, and very purposefully wiggled her arse at him.

If Jamie hadn’t been ready before, that look certainly would have done the trick.

He’d stepped forward before he was even aware of it and pushed himself home much more roughly than he’d intended. Claire gasped loudly at the contact and, all at once, Jamie came back to himself.

His hands were on her hips, holding her steady. But he was going slow and tender, definitely not what she needed from him. Grabbing his left hand, she moved it up to her breast, where he held its heavy weight for a moment, but still not giving her the result she was looking for.

Instead, she pushed away from the door and spun around. Jamie let out a cry of surprise and displeasure, staring at her with his mouth open. Hands on his shoulders, she shoved him a little away from the wall. His brows lifted in silent question, but she gave no answer. Glancing pointedly at the floor, she waited for him to lie down.

“Are ye sure?”

“Oh for Christ’s sake, Jamie!”

Making the wise choice to not argue with her further, he lay down on his back and watched her. Stepping above him, she looked down and tilted her head to one side.

“Do you love me?”

“Aye. Verra much.”

He lifted his hands to help her ease down, which was surprisingly difficult given her altered center of gravity.

“Good. Because you’re mine.”

His back arched as she took him in again. Back in control, she could get what she needed, move as hard and fast as she wanted.

“Aye,” he moaned beneath her. “Only yours.”

“You are mine, James Fraser! MINE!”

She rode hard, fingers digging into his shoulders as she lost all control. They were both crying out by now, his eyes squeezed shut. He let out a strangled string of words that might have been Gaelic at the same time her back arched and she wheezed.

It was some time before they both came back to themselves and Claire smiled. Jamie pushed himself into a sitting position and held her as close as her belly would allow.

“Weel… I dinna think we’ve been like that in weeks.”

“Well, I haven’t watched women ogle you in public in a while.”

“Were ye jealous, then?”

She shrugged and smiled as he chuckled and pulled her face down to his own.

“That’s a good thing, aye? Being jealous.”

“Is it?”

“Aye, it is. It means ye still care. For ye canna be jealous over something ye dinna care about.”

With a smirk, she met his eyes.

“Well I suppose I care a whole hell of a lot then, don’t I?”

For a long moment, he silenced her with his lips. Her heartbeat began to slow as his hands wandered over her body.

“Ye ken I love only you, aye?”

“I do,” she smiled warmly. “All these bloody hormones make me a little crazy sometimes, that’s all.”

“Weel if this is what yer hormones make ye do, I canna say I mind them.”

“And you know I love only you, too. Right?”

She searched his eyes for a moment before he answered

“Aye,” he said, voice vibrating against her lips while she kissed down his neck.

Her lips visited his sweaty skin down to his chest, his heartbeat strong beneath her kisses.

“Ah… Sassenach, I hope ye dinna want to do that again just now.”

“No, no. Not yet, anyway. I only wanted to leave you with a… lasting reminder.”

“Of?”

With a wicked smirk, she met his eyes before sinking her teeth into the hard muscle of his chest. He yelped in pain and flinched, but didn’t escape her. She held on until she was sure the mark would last for a while.

“Who you belong to.”

“Because my bloody wedding ring wasna enough!?”

“Well… This seemed more fitting. And rings can come off.”

He chuckled again and kissed her lips, her cheeks, down her neck, and-

“Ouch!”

“As they say, turnabout is fair play, no?”

“You bastard!”

“Wait a moment. I’m no’ finished yet. That willna stay more than an hour or two.”

The sweet, strange mixture of pain and pleasure pulsed through her as he went about marking her in turn. Her pulse throbbed in her neck where he bit her, but she smiled anyway. Satisfied that she was marked as solidly as he was, he released her and lay back again.

“Never kent a woman like you, Claire Fraser.”

“I’ve never known a man like you either, Jamie Fraser.”

###

Jamie sat on the couch, reading through one of his books. Claire was at the table with her study materials spread out, having outgrown the desk. Out of the corner of his eye, Claire began running her hands through her hair only for them to get stuck.

“Bloody H. Christ,” she muttered.

“Problem, Sassenach?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Trying not to smile, he waited a moment before she gave in.

“Alright no, I’m not fine. This is a bloody mess that I can’t make sense of, your bloody child won’t stop kicking me in the kidneys, I’ve peed six times in the last half hour, and I really, really want a glass of whiskey.”

Setting his bookmark to keep his place, he put the book down and got up.

“Well, I canna help ye wi’ all those things, ken, but I can help wi’ some.”

Her blue eyes slid off the papers in front of her and met his.

“You’ll let me have the whiskey?”

Pursing his lips, he sighed dramatically.

“You willna drink any whiskey, no’ until after the bairn’s born. I canna help ye with the peeing either. But I think he kens that you’re stressed about all this. Perhaps I can help wi’ the studying a bit?”

Claire heaved a sigh and leaned back in the chair, rubbing her belly.

“Maybe that’ll help.”

“Where would ye like to start?” he asked, collecting the scattered flashcards from the table.

“Um… Start with cardiac diseases. I’m rubbish.”

Flipping through the cards, he found the ones she’d requested and began asking her to recall the information. At first, she stumbled through, not giving all the information. He continued through the cards until she began reciting everything flawlessly. By the time she was satisfied, it was getting late.

“Come wi’ me, mo graidh. I’ll no’ have ye stressing yourself half to death.”

“But if I could just study the-”

“Nope. What was it ye said? If ye dinna get enough sleep, your cognitive function decreases, aye? So ye need to take a rest.”

Reluctantly, she labored to her feet with his help and stretched.

“Don’t use my own words against me, Fraser.”

Fixing her with his most stern look, he waited until she met his gaze.

“Then dinna argue wi’ me, Fraser.”

Her mouth opened to say something tart back, but closed it.

“Fine.”

Taking her hand, he lead her to their bedroom and sat her down on their bed.

“Jamie, you can’t possibly-”

“Hush, lass.”

Walking around the other side, he eased himself up behind her and pulled her to lean against him. He pressed his thumbs against her spine and dragged them down its length. She groaned and leaned into him further. Several minutes passed while he worked the knots from her back, helping her to relax.

“That’s better,” he said softly after a while. “I ken ye’ve a lot to do, and I ken ye can do it. But I hate to see ye in such a state. So relax, get some rest. I’ll help ye study until ye have yer exams, aye?”

“Jamie,” she said with a sigh as her head nearly flopped against his shoulder.

“Aye, my love?”

“Thank you. For helping me study and for helping me relax.”

Smiling against her hair, he let his hands slide around to rest against her belly.

“That’s why we’re a team, Sassenach. And see? He kent ye were worked up. He’s calmed down now you’ve relaxed.”

“She has, thank God.”

“Can ye get some sleep now?”

Her eyes opened and rolled hard.

“No. I have to pee.”

“Ah. Well I canna help ye wi’ that.”

“Unfortunately you can’t. But if I’m not back in five - no ten - minutes, come in after me.”

Jamie nodded gravely, helping push her to her feet.

“Aye. Ten minutes. Unless I hear a crash. Then I’ll kick the door in.”

“Good.”

###

Claire shuffled into the apartment after her short work day. Jamie had had training earlier and had promised to have dinner ready by the time she came home. But it wasn’t the food on the table that had her smiling.

“You’re a bit late with those,” she said, nodding to the nine roses in the vase.

“Ye havena delivered him yet! I’m no’ late!”

They sat together and discussed what they’d each done during the day. Finished, he cleared away the dishes and boxed up the leftovers while she got ready to continue studying. She’d asked that he help her study again, but to give her a few minutes for review. So he looked at the books on his shelf, choosing one he hadn’t read in a while. He couldn’t help but smile at the collection of pregnancy books at the end of the shelf. When Claire had read through them, she’d put colored tabs on important sections. He’d simply read them from cover to cover a few times each.

Claire was near the end of her pregnancy now, but he wouldn’t get rid of these. Each one reminded him of that night when she’d told him, when she’d come home to him and shown her heart. He grabbed The Expectant Father off the shelf and began flipping through it. Claire had actually been the one to purchase this book.

“I may be the expectant mother, but you’re involved in this too. And 90% of these things are written for the women. You deserve your own book.”

He frowned when it fell open and he felt a lump. Pushing the page over carefully, his brows lifted in surprise. Nestled in the pages were three dried rose petals.

“Sassenach?”

“Hmm?”

“Do ye ken why there’s rose petals in my pregnancy book?”

He turned to look at her and he saw her cheeks flush a little.

“Well… You’ve been bringing home roses every month and… Well I couldn’t just let them go. They meant so much to me. So I saved a petal from each flower each month. I was going to make a little book of them after I dried this month’s.”

“Ye… Ye kept them?”

“Of course I did, you sappy, romantic Scot. You brought me flowers every month after we found out I was pregnant. They meant so much to me and I wanted to keep a piece of them forever.”

Reverently, Jamie closed the book and replaced it on the shelf. He knew women liked to be appreciated, liked to know they were being thought about. This pregnancy hadn’t had the easiest start, so he’d tried to make it easier for her. He hadn’t thought it would mean quite so much to her, though.

“You think it’s stupid, don’t you?”

Joining her at the table where she had her study materials spread out, he bent and gave her a swift kiss.

“Nae, lass. I think it’s verra nice that ye kept them. Now, are ye ready for me to quiz ye?”

With a sigh, she pushed the flashcards over to him and closed her eyes in concentration. As he got them all facing the same direction, he thought about the rose petals. Perhaps he could combine them with something he’d been putting together, a family book of sorts.

###

When Claire came home a few days later, Jamie was waiting for her. It had been the last of her exams and he had been wondering all day how she’d done, knowing that she had prepared herself as well as she could. She was a smart lass, much smarter than he was if he was honest with himself.

“Well?”

“Well what?” she asked as she toed her shoes off, not looking at him.

“How did ye fair then?”

Finally, she looked up at him and for one moment, he thought she might burst into tears. Then, she smiled.

“I passed! I passed and I wanted to rub that instructors face in it, but I did the polite thing and only flipped her off once I left the class.”

He grinned at her, enveloping her in a bone crushing hug and feeling a nudge to his lower abdomen as the baby let him know that it did not appreciate being squished.

“I’m so proud of ye, mo nighean donn. I knew ye could do it!”

“Well, I still have to pass the state exam, but I’m done with school! Something to celebrate, I think.”

“Indeed it is. What would ye like for dinner, love? I’ll make ye anything ye wish.”

“Anything?” she responded as she grinned. Jamie sighed.

“Aye, even the hot wings, if ye want them,” he said, laughing at the look of excitement that cropped up on her face.

“I swear yer more excited about the hot wings than about yer school being over.”

“Yes, well,” she said, pointing to her stomach. “She’s happy about them as well.”

She took his hand and pulled him into the kitchen.

“Come with me, darling. I’ll help you make dinner. Then we can celebrate with… dessert,” she said, eyes glittering with mischief.

“Aye. Aye, dessert,” he responded, swatting her backside.

It would be a long night and not in any way a bad one.

###

A few nights later, Jamie noticed Claire pushing peas around her plate. She’d been quiet all evening, hardly saying a word.

“Sassenach, is something wrong?”

“Hmm?”

“Are ye alright?”

She nodded and gave him a shy smile.

“Yes, I, um… Well… I’ve finished my classes and… There’s a sort of…” Huffing, she folded her hands in her lap and looked down at them. “There’s a pinning ceremony and…” Her voice dropped to a near whisper. “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to pin me.”

“Do what?”

“The pinning. It’s… Well it’s a special thing and I thought… Nevermind. It’s silly. You don’t have to.”

Reaching over, he covered her hands with his.

“If it’s important to ye, then I’ll be there. I’d be honored to be a part of this ceremony. When is the graduation?”

Now her eyes rolled.

“Like I’m going to go and sit in that hot building for two bloody hours? I’m not going. The pinning will be long enough and I will not sit still for that long again. Not with this one constantly nudging my bladder,” she pointed at her belly.

“Aye,” he said, rubbing their child gently. “I ken it’s no’ so comfortable anymore. But surely ye dinna want to miss your own graduation. It’s no’ every day ye graduate.”

“That’s true, but I’ll only ever have one pinning, and I would rather sit through that than graduation. Besides, then everyone will be able to see my handsome husband pin me.” She smiled coquettishly at him under her eyelashes as he laughed.

“Well, I dinna ken if that’s a good enough reason to pick one over the other, but whatever ye wish, mo nighean donn.”

“It’s not like I won’t still get my diploma. Besides, the graduation date is much closer to my due date with her and I don’t want my water to break mid-ceremony. I can’t imagine that would be good for anyone.”

“True,” he said, kissing her forehead lightly. “We’ll do the pinning then. And I’ll be more than happy to be there wi’ you for it.”

A few days later, Jamie helped Claire down the stairs to the car. She was dressed in a new white shirt and nice black trousers. After finding a place to park, they walked to the fieldhouse and took their places. He’d expected her name to come up in the very beginning, but they’d read through every ‘B’ name and hadn’t mentioned hers.

“Claire Fraser.”

He accepted the pin and went to stand in front of her. She hadn’t told him that she’d changed her name with the school.

“Jamie, I wouldn’t be standing here today without your support and encouragement. For helping me through the long study days and nights and continually giving me the support and love I needed to finish this, I will always be grateful. I love you.”

As they moved onto the next name and read the next dedication, Jamie brushed the tears from her cheeks.

“Thank you,” he whispered, kissing her cheek.

They waited patiently for the rest of the ceremony to be completed, Claire quietly trying to keep herself together. When it finished, Jamie took her hand as they walked slowly out to the car.

“Would ye come out to dinner wi’ me?” he asked.

“Eating out? We haven’t done that in ages.”

“Aye. And ye deserve a fine night to celebrate what ye’ve done. Completed your schooling wi’ a bairn on the way. It’s incredible, mo chridhe.”

With a sigh, she leaned against him.

“I meant what I put in that dedication, you know. I couldn’t have done all this without you.”

“Aye. I love ye too. Come on or we’ll be late for our reservation.”

They had a lovely evening out, laughing and enjoying their time together. Claire looked longingly at the wine as the wait staff constantly walked by with it.

“Soon, a nighean. Soon and we can share the whiskey Henry gave us.”

“As long as ‘share’ means I get most of it.”

“Naturally.”

Back home, Claire changed out of her nice clothes and into her comfortable pajamas. Jamie locked up and drew the curtains on the windows before joining her in their room.

“Thank you for taking me out tonight.”

“It will always be my pleasure, my love. Always.”

“You work late tomorrow?”

He sighed and lay down beside her.

“Aye, a bit. It’s a long show tomorrow night. Ye dinna need to wait up. Ye’ve a bairn to take care of.”

Claire sighed and kissed him.

“I’ll make sure to leave a plate of dinner in the microwave for you, then.”

“Thank ye.”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #a wild night in vegas au #jamie x claire #15.1 #outlandishchridhe #takemeawaytocamelot

[pisati]

my mom’s moods are something I’ve had to deal with my whole life. I don’t know that they’ve ever been that extreme, but they’re definitely the main reason I’m not comfortable talking to her and never have been. 

I’ve seen those posts going around that say things like “if you make them uncomfortable coming to you for the little things, they’ll never come to you for the big things”, and that sentiment hits pretty hard. I’ve learned to choose my words carefully with her. even so, it was always hard to predict what she’d blow up about. I remember even in high school, writing that talking to my mom felt like walking in a minefield. I never knew what misstep I’d make, but inevitably I’d make one. not to mention she’d flip around over the littlest things and I never knew what she’d change her mind on. just a few months ago I told her, cautiously, that I’d wanted to try a keto diet to see how carbs affected my health. but I have no energy to make food. I asked if she could help me. she sounded almost excited about it, maybe she’d try it a little with me. she asked me a few times after that how my diet was going; I said I hadn’t started yet. I still just don’t have the energy to cook, and almost everything keto has to be prepped. I asked again if she could help me, she said no. just. flat-out no. uh, what?

I’ve always been sensitive and she knows that. she fucking knows. but when I clam up she gets even more mad. always has. since high school whenever she’d start shit with me and I didn’t feel like dealing with it or fighting back, I’d just get up and walk away. I’d get yelled at for “walking away from my problems”. yelled at for daring to vent by going up the stairs louder than usual, slamming my door. she still doesn’t understand that when I close myself off like that, it’s not avoiding my problems. it’s avoiding her. most of the time when I’d go to talk to her she’d get annoyed or snippy at me over something irrelevant, and I’d clam up.

I’ve also always had some weird behavioral things that I’ve had to work really hard to get myself through, but I still revert to that sometimes when I’m around her. it’s weird for me to show her I’ve changed. she’s told me many times how I was so hard on her. because I was shy and didn’t like attention and had social anxiety. she’d try to force me into this ‘normal kid’ mold and got mad when I didn’t fit. a year or two ago she was looking through old pictures and got this annoyed look on her face; I wasn’t looking at the pictures, so I asked what it was. she said it was from my 4th or 5th birthday party; we’d had my birthday party at one of those places like Chuck E Cheese, and I couldn’t handle it when it came time to sing Happy Birthday. now. by this point. my mom knew me well enough to know that I hated attention like that. I’m sure this was already after the time my kindergarten class performed a little song we learned in front of all our parents and I froze up entirely and had to get walked to the side by my teacher because I started crying. yet, still, we had to do the birthday thing. instead of maybe just not singing a stupid song that I couldn’t have given less of a shit about at the age of 5, my mom elected to have everyone do it anyway, and took pictures of me covering my face and crying. but it was my fault I was so miserable, of course. I was so hard on her.

but I’ve been wondering if her being so snippy and flip-floppy has affected my relationships with other people. I don’t think I’m as cautious with other people as I am with her, but I do have a similar lingering fear that one little thing I do will flip a switch. it’s not as overt as it is with my mom, but I feel like it’s there nonetheless. I think I’ve even been a little surprised when other people accept my ‘no’s. mom never really did. she’d pull me by the arm into pictures and then get upset when I looked miserable, but she knew I hated being in pictures. she’d sneak pictures of me when she thought I couldn’t see, and get upset at me when I got upset about it. she tried to physically force me out of my room once when she wanted to go somewhere with me and my brother and I didn’t want to go. she’d tell me I was the one making a scene, when all I did was say no. I don’t trust her with much. I don’t tell her anything about myself that I don’t think is safe for her to know; things she can’t hold over my head or turn against me somehow. and I used to wonder why I’d think can you be my mom? when an older woman was nice or caring towards me.

not to say my mom doesn’t try. she’s given me everything and then some. but... ya know? some people really want kids and still shouldn’t have them. she didn’t want a kid like me, she wanted a kid like my brother. I honestly don’t think she’d even like me if I weren’t her daughter. she’ll say she doesn’t pick favorites, but it’s obvious. I was so hard on her and my brother was such an easy, easygoing kid. she never laid her hands on him.

I don’t think I’d be like her, if I were a parent. at least I learned empathy. maybe my patience wears thin sometimes, but I’d prefer to talk it out than escalate it by yelling. especially if I knew my kid were sensitive. like, jesus. 

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the summer I got so sick and she lost her patience with me. I didn’t know what was wrong. all I knew was that I was nauseous and in pain and my emetophobia was acting up on top of my already-crippling anxiety, and it wouldn’t let up. I went to her crying once because I was in a horrific hours-long anxiety spiral that wouldn’t stop because I couldn’t just magically stop feeling sick. and for a few minutes she let me curl up on the bed next to her and she rubbed my back. but then when I didn’t stop crying she snapped at me. “you gotta stop feeling sorry for yourself”. I got up and left; staggered back to my room (because I hadn’t been able to eat; I was so weak), and she followed me. tried to force me to eat. we’d gone to a radiology center to get an abdominal CT, because I was in so much pain, but they gave me a ton of barium crap (maybe 32oz?) to drink in the space of about 30 minutes and I couldn’t do it. firstly it was flavored like vanilla milkshake and about the same consistency, which I wouldn’t touch even if I weren’t feeling like barfing, but secondly I was just in so much pain and I had hardly eaten anything in weeks. I was so scared I’d puke it up. mom started snapping at me, telling me I was wasting the doctors’ time and her time, because she had to take off work to take me there. eventually she grabbed the nurse after I’d started crying saying I just couldn’t do it; I barely got half of it down. they said it was fine. my scan came back fine. I had to practically beg her to take me to the ER after my results came back. I was so weak it took me a full minute to get down the stairs; holding on to the rail and the wall. I’d never been that afraid my legs would give out under me. I couldn’t even drink water at that point. she told me no at first, because my dad took my brother to the hospital once when he ate too much and he was fine, and then she had the ER bill for that to pay off. key difference, though, was that I couldn’t eat and I was actively dying. eventually I convinced her to take me. the following day, after she got home from work. I waited all day, dragged myself downstairs when she got home, slumped over the kitchen island because I couldn’t sit up, and she took her time looking through the mail and eating a slice of deli meat. after the whole hospital ordeal, when we learned that I just had a really fucking weirdly-manifested UTI, I had to put my clothes back on since they had me in a hospital gown. I told mom not to look, but then as I was pulling my shirt down I heard “you’re just so pretty!” I glared at her. “I couldn’t help it! you’re beautiful!” I had lost 40lbs and was probably near death, but thanks for that. pity me when I was gaining, right? then she told me she had tennis that night, and she just couldn’t cancel, because it was a USTA thing and they don’t have subs, so it would be inconveniencing everyone else, even if her daughter was just in the hospital. she left and I had to sit in the waiting area with my discharge papers, alone, until my brother could come pick me up.

but to this day she’ll still tell everyone how awful it was. poor girl. I was so sick. 

fuckin hell, man. 

no wonder I’m like this.

[wildroseofarran]

More Waltz Than Swing || Bretan

Botan: Bo switched from the headphones to the PC speakers, letting Parov Stelar ring through the police station. No one was in a cell today, so he felt brave enough to call Parker into his little office.

Brett: Brett was only too happy to go. "Bless your soul," he said with a heartfelt sigh. "Evangelina is very chatty today and without any troublemakers to talk to I've had to hear all the gossip from her book club."

Botan: "Shh." He would have none of that interrupting Chambermaid Swing. The music was turned up, hand offered. "I lead. If you step on my feet again I'm only going to dance with Peabody, ever."

Brett: "I didn't mean to," said Brett, taking Bo's hand. "I warned you that I couldn't dance."

Botan: A hand made itself at home on Parker's waist. "Look at me and not our feet this time, man-with-two-lefties."

Brett: "That I can do." He slipped into Bo's hold and smiled. "But if your lovely face distracts me and makes me step on your foot again you'll have only yourself to blame."

Botan: "No, I will still blame you, and I'll trade a sheriff for a deputy. Peabody wouldn't mind." He was teasing...mostly. He gave his boyfriend a kiss just because. "Eyes on me," he reminded, feet beginning to move.

Brett: He was given a teeny frown that disappeared completely with the kiss. "He might not, but you definitely will. His cooking is far inferior to mine."

Brett nodded, letting Botan guide their movements.

Botan: "I think he's hetero, too. I saw him flirting with a woman that came in the other day. She had brought him a sandwich wrapped in plastic. It stank." Now to gently turn them; seemed like they were escaping the office.

Brett: "Why did it stink?" he chuckled. "What kind of sandwich was it?" Their conversation was keeping Brett's attention on Botan and not their feet, where he was sorely tempted to look.

Botan: "It smelled like a deli." Which to Botan was a very nasty smell, unfortunately discovered not too long ago on one of his days out with Parker. "I must have done this often," he mused, ignoring his own advice and looking at their feet.

Brett: "Corned beef and pickles is a perfectly wonderful smell, but since you don't eat meat I can see why it's lost on you."

He smiled. "I think you did. This right here is muscle memory."

Botan: "I wish I could rediscover everything this way," a hint of sadness in his voice.

Brett: Brett leaned in to kiss Botan's cheek. You will, it said. One way or another.

Botan: His dancing came to a halt, arms tight around Parker's waist, face buried in his chest. "Don't speak for a moment." He just needed to absorb the moment.

Brett: He just nodded, resting his cheek against his boyfriend's hair and holding him just as tightly. Botan could absorb as long as he liked; Brett would never tire of holding him.

Botan: "Do you think memories are all that make us who we are, or are we born that way?"

Brett: "We're all born as blank slates, Botan. Who we are is a constant work in progress."

Botan: "But are we not born with certain traits? Stubbornness, things like that?"

Brett: "I've always thought our environment gives us our traits."

Botan: "I'll read about it."

Brett: Brett kissed the top of Bo's head. "We can go to the bookstore after work."

Botan: "You wouldn't mind that?"

Brett: "Not at all. I like going there, too, you know." He smiled. "And I'll stake out the squishy arm chair in front of the fire place so you can have it. I know it's your favorite one."

Botan: "My hero!" he grinned. "Going to defend the fort and banish anyone already there?"

Brett: "Darn right. I dare anyone to try and take that chair from you."

Botan: "Want to dance again?"

Brett: Brett nodded. "How am I doing so far?"

Botan: "So far you haven't stepped on me."

Brett: "For me that's progress."

Botan: "Alright. Just for a moment, watch my feet." Arms were extended as though Parker were still in his arms. "One thing I know for certain, there is meant to be symmetry. Two things, actually. Two being you're afraid of your feet."

Brett: "I'm not afraid of them," said Brett, doing as he was told and watching. "I just don't trust them."

Botan: "It probably took me time, whenever it was I learned this."

Brett: "Considering the skill and ease with which you move, I'll bet good money that it did."

Botan: What kind of life did I have? he wondered. "Back to me, sheriff." Parker was pulled closer by his waist as the song changed.

Brett: Brett smiled, happily returning to Botan's arms. "Well if you insist."

Botan: "One, two, three. One, two, three..." It was more like a waltz at this point, but the song was slow enough to suit. He imagined the simplicity of their steps would be a mercy on his beau's feet.

Brett: A waltz--or something like it--was about all Brett could handle at his present skill level. It was a fight just to keep his eyes on Botan's and not on their feet, one he lost every so often.

Botan: "Eyes," he warned, pinching Parker's chin between index and thumb. "Should I just dance without a shirt? Would that make things easier?"

Brett: "Then I'd be staring at your chest and too flustered to dance."

Botan: Softly he bit his lip, looking away with a shy smile. "Right. Of course."

Brett: What a marvelous opportunity to cover that beautiful face in kisses.

Botan: "Ah! Brett!" he laughed.

Brett: Lord, but he loved that sound. "Whatever's the matter, Botan? My beard isn't itchy anymore. It's soft."

Botan: "It's not soft enough!" he protested, bending away from the loving assault.

Brett: "Is that right? And how soft is soft enough?" Have a nuzzle and even more kisses.

Botan: "None of it! Ah! Stop!" Abs! He forgot he had those!

Brett: Brett pulled back with a grin. "Stop? Or keep going?"

Botan: A hand covered the sheriff's mouth. Stop. It means stop.

Brett: The words were slightly muffled by Botan's hand. "As you wish."

Botan: "Now tell me you love me and only me."

Brett: Brett's expression softened. "I love you, Botan. And only you."

Botan: Fingers combed through the sheriff's hair. He was no longer interested in dancing. "Du betyr så mye for meg."

Brett: He may not have understood Botan's words, but he understood the tone and the look in his eyes all too well. And it warmed him.

A nuzzle was given.

Botan: "How much longer until we can leave?" He could leave before Parker, but he wouldn't.

Brett: "We can leave now, if you want. Not a whole lot going on in here today."

Botan: "Yes! The station gives me a headache."

Brett: "The whole building or one aspect in particular."

Botan: "All of the white and the sanitation products and the carpet in the offices."

Brett: "I hate the carpet, too," said Brett, looking down at it. "I'd like to remove it all at once but if I did it would have to be one room at a time."

Botan: "Please do. I smell like...medicine when I go home every day."

Brett: "I'll see about getting that started. Emmanuel's brother Bash deals with flooring for a living, maybe he can help."

Botan: "Is that in the budget?"

Brett: "I think there's enough to pull up the carpet and bring the wood underneath to a decent state."

Botan: "You'd do that for me? That's so romantic, Brett Parker."

Brett: "For you I'd tear down the building and rebuild it to your exact specifications."

Botan: His smile widened. Had he all of his memories, he might have taken him up on that. "Just the floors, please."

Brett: Brett smiled back and leaned in for a kiss. "Your wish is my command."

#More Waltz Than Swing #brettmparker #bonowicki