#-HAVE NEED FOR PATERNITY CLOTHING? At least that’s what I assume the ad is about.

[cuosiscrazy]

Pinterest getting real comfortable with this ads tf

[seekingseven]

Another drabble request: how does Four find out about Twilight's wolf form?

Linked Universe Prompt Requests #8!

Oh, that's a great question! Here's one possible way it could have gone down...

⚠️CW: Alcohol Mention! ⚠️

(You can also read the fic here on Ao3!)

~~~~~~

Four was not the kind of person who spent his evenings in a places like this, and he knew Twilight and Time weren't either.

Maybe that was why he was so uncomfortable.

Music pulsed through the floor, amplified by the tavern's high ceilings and the patrons' warbling voices. Drinks clinked, beer frothed, and lantern light clotted over polished countertops. Across the room, a red-lipped waitress tossed a red-faced patron a pinched smile, the kind that crinkled at the edges with professional, faux patience, and the man let out a wheedling chuckle. A group of boys howled at each other as glossy cards splashed across their table. Behind the bartop, a tenderfaced bartender dropped a stack of glass mugs, and a nearby group of tipsy women had begun to crackle out the Hylian national anthem.

Four pressed his hands over his eyes and tried to cough out the smell of vomit and rotting sweat. No use. Spirals pulsed at the edges of his vision--he was pressing too hard--and he let his hands slide into his lap. The muscles in his neck tensed as he slipped deeper into Twilight's pocket.

This was not what he had in mind when he had decided to follow Time and Twilight on their "quick, fifteen minute errand." He had been right in deducing it was more than that, of course; reports of local children going missing near a known monster hideout hadn't inspired confidence in Four that grocery shopping was all on the two's minds.

But, a tavern?

To each their own, he supposed, but he couldn't entirely stifle the little flame of disappointment in his chest.

Adrenaline gushed through his throat as the world swung around him; Twilight was moving again. Vibrations thudded through the cloth around him. The overhead lanterns flickered crazily, blocked by Twilight's shoulders one minute and blazing down his backside the next. Four shielded his eyes under his hands and stared at his knees. This whole shrinking thing had been a bad--terrible--idea. He could only hope that Time and Twilight had a lower alcohol tolerance than they appeared to.

The movements stop, and Four sighed as the acid in his throat slipped back down. A booming echoed from overhead, and Four couldn't help but wonder if this is what the Minish had to deal with whenever he came to visit.

"Is Mr.Garto here?"

Four's ears perked up; that was Twilight's voice, and that was the name of the man who had first begun reporting the disappearances. Interest piqued, he righted himself until he as peering just over the small slip of space between the pocket and Twilight's tunic. If he turned just enough, he could catch a glimpse of Time's legs and the mahogany bartop behind them.

"He's not here right now," a voice whispered. The muscles crisscrossing Four's chest cinched. That wasn't the sound of a bored bartender, or a dolled up waitress, that was...

"A child?" Time asked, voice thick with its typical lack of tack. "Where are your parents? A tavern is no place for a boy your age."

Silence--at least, between the three parties. The debauched din around them showed no interest in smothering itself for the sake of dramatic tension.

"My parents work here," the voice replied. It was soft, but there was a bristle underneath it; a boy, Four would bet, and a frightened one at that. "My dad's Mr.Garto. Amerigo Garto. He's out right now. If you have questions, then you can, uh, demect them to me."

"Cute," Twilight murmured, voice lowered so that he was its only listener. Four would have rolled his eyes if he didn't happen to also find the childish mispronunciation endearing.

"Very well then," Time cut in. Whatever spell the boy's subtle stutter had cast on Twilight was lost on him, judging from the clipped words and serious tone. "Please tell your father that we would like to speak to him about the abductions. If he has any information, he's welcome to contact us. Here's the postal address of the inn my teammates and I are staying in."

A shuffle of cloth, and the faint sound of a hand bumping a counter. Four pulled his arms over the pocket and strained his neck to the side. The cloth around him dipped under his weight, threatening to give, and Four flinched so hard that he slipped back inside.

"You're looking for them?" the voice came again. "The lost kids?"

Time chuckled. The paternal sound felt oddly out of place in the drunken supernova around them. "Of course we are. We have an idea of where they might be, so we wanted to get in contact with your father to see if he had any more information."

Twilight leaned forward, letting both his pocket and his pocket-sized stowaway swing along with him. "We'll find them for sure. Don't worry."

"You will? Do you think you can find them? My sister and my puppy, I mean."

"Your sister?" Time asked.

"Your puppy?" Twilight added.

The boy's voice seemed smaller, now, lighter, and it took little imagination to envision the pale faced, blue-eyed seven ear old that was undoubtedly cowering under the others' combined stares. "Yes. They were the first to go missing, sir. Sirs. I hope you can find them. Let...let me know if I can help."

Across the bar, someone threw a bottle of wine against the wall. Glass powdered around the purple stain in the wood. Twilight flinched. A gaggle of teenage laughed in their testosterone-saturated way, unabashedly amused at the adults making spectacles of themselves, and Four stifled the urge to slap all of them.

"We will," Time said. His voice was a breath's distance from inaudible. "Take care, little one. We'll speak to you soon."

A mumble of agreement, muffled, and Four clutched the fabric of Twilight's pocket as the world spun on his heel. Left, right, left; he was swaying with each pull and pinch of movement, and he caught only a heartbeat's glimpse at the boy before Twilight and Time exited the tavern.

He looked exactly as Four had imagined him to.

"That's so sad," Twilight murmured, letting the tavern door close softly behind him. "I hope we find them."

"We will. Hopefully Garto gets in contact with us soon. For now, we'll just need to brief the others and see if there are any other locals who might have more information."

"Yeah, yeah. That sound about right."

This time, the silence was real. Only the sounds of feet squelching against mud and dirt interrupted their thoughts.

Twilight stopped. Four gripped the back of his head and hissed as it bonked against the raised metal of Twilight's scabbard.

"Hold on," the rancher began, "I forgot something back there."

"Forgot? What?"

"...something. I'll be back. Don't wait for me."

"Sure. Try to not stay out to long, though."

Twilight assured he wouldn't, then turned heel. Feet against the floor, night air, cold, and then a flush of heat. The air is stuffy again, and the quiet is gone, and Four is peering precariously between gaps in the pocket stitching. He thumps against the back of Twilight's leg as the rancher makes another sharp turn. It's a wonder that the rancher hasn't grown suspicious of the wiggling in his pocket yet.

But perhaps he was too occupied to grow suspicious, because Twilight slowed to a stop and leaned forward on what Four assumes to be the bartop.

"Is the kid still here?"

A grainy voice responded with a huff and grunt. "No, he went outside. Just through the hallway. Something about wanting to play hopstoch."

"Ah, okay. Thank you."

Another snort. "If you find him, tell him to come back inside. It's too dark to be out alone."

Twilight made a sound that could have been construed to be somewhat affirmative, then hurried out the door. The evening breeze, greased with the steam and sweat spilling from the tavern's backdoor, greeted them again. A clink of metal and the cloth ruffling; Four furrowed his eyebrows. What was Twilight up to?

It was the last cohesive thought he would have for a good minute.

The cotton confines around him popped out of existence. Air rushed against his head and through his air as he fell, weightless, and he had barely processed the fact that Twilight had vanished before he thumped against a tree stump. Dazed but unharmed, he sat up, eyes widening.

In the place where Twilight had stood mere moments ago was a massive grey wolf.

A wolf...

Wolfie?

"Who's there?" someone whispered. A figure on the other side of the backyard inched forward, and Four's throat tightened when he recognized it as the boy from earlier. His eyes were red. Little hopstotch stones dangled between his fingers, shining and unused.

The wolf--Wolfie--barked. The boy flinched, squeezing his elbows to his sides. Wolfie barked again, insistent, and wagged his tail furiously. Blue eyes watched silently as Wolfie rolled on his side, then chased his tail, then made an impressive show of chasing a terrified chipmunk through the yard. Gradually, the boy's eyebrows slipped downwards. Wolfie let out another bark. A whisper of a smile pinched at the boy's mouth.

"Where did you come from, big guy?"

Wolfie barked again, advancing further and, when the boy didn't recoil, butted his head against scabbed knees. The boy laughed again. Wolfie's tail wagged harder.

"You're so big! Who's your owner? They must take really good care of you. And you look really strong, too. Look at these muscles!"

The boy carefully closed a hand around Wolfie's paw, then lifted it upwards. Strength roiled beneath an oily coat, and the boy let out a small gasp of awe.

"Wow! You look even tougher than my sister! Hey, wanna play hopscotch with me? I think you would be good at it."

If Wolfie licking the boy's face wasn't confirmation enough, him hopping towards the dilapidated hopscotch court was. The boy laughed with delight and rubbed Wolfie's snout, giggling harder as the wolf licked a wet strip across his cheek.

"Huh," Four murmured, picking stray wood chips out of his hair and grinning to himself. "Looks like we both have a little secret."

~~ Fine ~~ I hope you enjoyed! Thank you so much for reading! [Previous Request] - [Next Request!]

[judgement-free-sideblog]

Dancing lessons

Summary: Barry is finally cast in a feature, the problem? He said he could dance and now he can either disappoint Sally or found a way to learn some steps.

Part 1 ● Part 2 ● Part 3 ● Part 4 ● Part 5 ● Part 6 ● Part 7 ● Part 8 ● Epilogue

Warnings: Swearing, blood, violence, guns, cheating maybe.

Part 5

And alarm clock went off somewhere and Barry woke up alone, he check out his watch and it said 7:00 a.m. just 4 hours had passed and he could feel the absence of the woman that was next to him just a couple minutes before.

He felt guilty, not entirely sure why and kept his head pressed down on the couch, it was not cheating, right? He had spend the night with a woman who wasn't his girlfriend, having dinner and playing board games and cuddling in the couch... but he did it because she was injured.

And smelling her hair and pushing her against him while they were sleeping was only to keep her safe, it meant nothing, it meant so little that he wouldn't mention a single thing to Sally, because there was nothing to talk about, she was his dancing instructor and a mean rival at scrabble, and now possibly a friend, a friend with beautiful eyes and flowy hair, whit a delicate body that fit perfectly in his arms...a friend with warm skin and red lips he was dying to know what would they taste like.

"Morning sunshine!" Her voice made him shake those dangerous thoughts away and he stood up to see her already dressed and holding two cups of coffee and a bag from a local bakery. "I didn't mean to wake you, but since I'm fine I thought you could use a coffee before going home".

"No, it's okay. Thanks" He said rubbing his eyes and joining her at the kitchen "Are those croissants?" He asked while she put the pastry on a platter.

"They are, I figured since I'm taking the day off I might as well make the best out of it, and since I can't drink an enormous amount of sugar and chocolate is the second best option" she took a bite of one of the pastries and he sited in front of her not quite sure of what he was supposed to say.

She on the other hand seemed not uncomfortable at all, she had a pink headband covering the stitches and that was the only difference, she continued to be the same relaxed and friendly woman she ever was. He was relived but also hurt a little maybe he thought they will have a long heartfelt conversation about the nature of their relationship and how sorry he was about his behavior but she didn't seem to mind at all, maybe it was for the best, at least they were friends now.

He walked down the stairs after he make her promise ten times she would not be opening the studio, and that he would check up on her in the afternoon. He was walking to his car when a familiar sensation in th back of his head alarmed him. He was being followed.

He opened the door cautiously looking around but he didn't see anyone and then, crossing the street in front of him, not caring enough to hide Fuches approach him, he froze in the spot, knowing too well his gun was safe under his bed and that he didn't even had a knife on him.

He looked better than the last time he saw him, no more open wounds, and his clothes were actually clean and new, but even when he looked put together his eyes looked tired and older than ever, maybe that's why he left him approach so easily.

Fuches opened the passenger's door and got inside, and Barry did the same, he start driving in silence in the unspoken understatement that they will do this in a more private place since the people opening the stores on that street were already coming out.

***

You let go a sigh of relief once he left, and look at your empty apartment already bored to death with the idea of staying in the whole morning, but you have promised not to do anything crazy so you put on a movie and sit on the couch in an attempt to become a cozy sloth.

Horror films were the select genre, trying to avoid anything remotely romantic that could reignite the feelings you have woken up to that morning. Not that his arms around your body didn't felt like heaven, because they did, but because you were sure you were dancing on a thin line that you were not willing to cross.

That's why you try so hard to be normal around him, there was no way you would give in on your feelings for Barry specially not around him, and yet you couldn't fight the urge to have him back and just talk to him, about anything he would think off, kick his ass in scrabble again, maybe you were just friends? Maybe after years of being harsh on yourself feeling like a faliure his presence and his optimism about his career was all that had attracted you and you wanted to be around him because it remained of you when you started and he was a nice person worth being friends with.

But that didn't explain why you needed to take a cold shower after he showed you the scars on his exposed skin, nor why did you went to sleep dreaming of touching them, you have to end that, starting with putting a barrier between the two, specially since he was happy with someone else, as happy as you are, you said angry at yourself and push your mind away from him.

Two hours passed and you were fine watching young attractive people running from their lifes, that you forgot that you were supposed to stay away from him and send him a text.

Since we are not dancing this afternoon you should bring money and alcohol and make the scrabble more interesting

The moment you hit "send" you regretted it, and ten minutes went by without any response, you were about to send another message making sure he knew you were just joking when to make the situation worse, the door opened and Alan walked in making you jump on the couch in surprise.

He was holding a nice bouquet of flowers and was about to say something nice when his expression changed with concern.

"What the hell happened to your head?" You have taken the headband off and the stitches were visible, he left his stuff on the ground while you try to explain what had happened leaving one important detail in the dark. "Why didn't you call? Y was free at 5 but I went out for drinks with the guys, you could have called, are you okay? I'm calling your doctor" His paternal voice while he check the wound make you feel worse even when you have done anything remotely accusatory.

"I'm fine, how was Dallas? Did you guys got the old man to sign?" He smile at you, like he always did when you resume his job into making old CEOs to sign their company's away to him and his lawyer friends.

"We did, in fact I was dying to get here to get you out to celebrate" He said pointing out the flowers "But maybe champagne is not the best idea right now" He said looking worried at the injury again.

"That and also the fact that is 10:00 a.m." You said and while he pick up his stuff from the floor and you quickly check your phone, no answer, maybe it was for the better, Barry Berkman was a dangerous path that you shouldn't walk and you could send a text cancelling your class later. You turn off the phone and help Alan out of his jacket.

He took you by the waist and pulled you in for a kiss, maybe was the guilt you felt what was making you eager to ease away a pain you haven't cause him yet but you deepened the kiss right there in the middle of the living room.

"Why was that for?" He asked with a confused happy look on his face holding you tight.

"Well is too early for champagne, but maybe not for other ways to celebrate" You said running your hands trough his arms and resting them on his chest.

"But your head..." He started with his hands on your back already making another choice.

"I'm fine, let's go" you wink at him and he carried you to the bedroom, with your heart rising on your chest loudly enough for your guilty thoughts to remain silent at least for the moment.

***

"Scoring with a married lady, I never thought you have that in you" Fuches said jokingly and Barry's hand tighten around the wheel.

"Leave her out of this" He growled and he saw the grin on Fuches face in the corner of his eye, he was teasing him and he fall right in "That's not what I was doing, she is just a friend" He added with lest conviction knowing he had said too much already.

"I know kid, you are way too decent to do that stuff, weird since you have no problem killing, but anyway I like the blonde one better..." he didn't finish talking since Barry almost lost control of the car when he mentioned Sally.

"Let Sally out of this or I swear to God I'll kill you right now" this time Fuches expression was not pleased, he looked at the road concerned with Barry's actions.

They parked in a drugstore that was empty at that time in the morning. And stand outside the car just watching the fence of the parking lot, Fuches light a cigarette and offered one to Barry but he rejected it.

"You are getting clumsy you know?" He said after a while, trying to find a way to bring on the subject without activating the timebomb he was when he got angry. "Using your own name on the hospital was stupid, oh yeah I know about your little excursion to the E.R." He said tossing the butt of the cigarette in the ground "This 'friend' of yours must be close to call herself Mrs. Berkman doesn't she?"

"She is my dance teacher... people assumed things" He started and the slight guilt in his voice was enough for Fuches to take the reins of the conversation.

"And I'm sure your girlfriend was aware of your whereabouts last night" He said, studying his reaction "Oh she doesn't know?"

"So you are going to threaten me with snitching on me with Sally now?" He said surprised "That's a bit ridiculous, why did you came back man?" He asked tired, he was sure now tha he could never kill him, no matter how much he had damaged him, that's not who he was anymore but his hesitation to end things with him encouraged Fuches to keep coming back into his life.

"Well the Chechens were not please to lose their men, the Bolivians think NoHo Hank betrayed them and the Burmese mob wanted you dead" He said and a pain in his head reminded Barry of the that night, and flashes of his actions play before his eyes, their men, the light fading away from Mayrbeck eyes still haunted him time to time. "Or whoever killed their leader for that matter, only the Chechens knew it was you and they kept it to themselves" he continued and Barry came back to the present, only nodding in understanding "So those guys thought it was Cristobal, since he survived your little outburst"

"And I suppose you didn't have anything to do with them thinking that" Barry assumed correctly.

"Of course not, as I also tip off NoHo Hank that his sweetheart was in danger so he could protect him" He said with a grin "Poor guy is so smitten by him is actually sweet, anyway the Bolivians and the Chechens got in peace after and they stop trying to kill me and welcome me into the family, but they were at war with the Burmese"

"And why does any of that to do with me? since you say they don't know who I am... they told them right? Hank rat me out to the Burmese?" He said connecting the dots on his head, and finally starting to get nervous about his momentary quiet life to blow up.

"It was a peace offering, they will give them this maniac killer who wrong the three of them and restore their peace, and they did already" He said putting out a photograph of a man covered in tattoos liying on the ground with multiple bullet holes on his body and head. "This is Marion Kowalski, an ex navy seal who mess with the wrong people and did some shady jobs for the mob for a price, and the American responsible for the Monastery massacre, and now they are all in peace"

"I don't understand any of these" Barry said regaining a momentary calm.

"Well Hank and Batir, the new boss, have different ideas about what peace means" He said turning on another cigarette "Hank is happy to keep the business running in peace and for Batir is a strategy to hurt them back with all they got." He put a hand on his shoulder when he said the last part and gave him a sad look.

"That includes me? It's insane man, I'm not coming with you, you can't convince me" He said putting his hand aside.

"No kid, I'm not here trying to convince you, this is a heads up" He said and pull out a passport with one of his many fake identities "I'm leaving to Italy, Hank arranged it, they are actively looking for you and since I don't know where you are I'm no longer useful but since he owns me Cristobal's life I got this last favor. They won't take a no for an answer and you either join them as a weapon or as a trophy".

"How long do I have?" He said now finally accepting the cigarette he offered him and looking away thinking.

"I don't know, Hank has been deviating their attention until I'm clear, after that I guess a day or two before they make a formal offer and after that is all up to you" He said and showed him a plane ticket "I'm leaving in a week so if I were you I will start making myself hard to find"

"Are you really going to Italy?" Barry asked finally after they share the silence, knowing too well it was the last time they will meet.

"Maybe, I wouldn't trust my own words, it was good seeing you kid" He said and offered him his hand. "Take care".

"You too" Barry said and resisted the urge to hug him since there were still too many open wounds between the two of them, that now will never have closure, Fuches turn away and start walking before Barry called him again "Hey Fuches!" He turned his head at him with a sad expression again "Thanks" they nodded and he walked away.

Barry tossed the cigarette on the ground and stood there for another ten minutes before getting on his car, his first instinct was to drive away and leave it all behind but he couldn't start the engine, so he took out his phone not sure who he was calling, there were 3 text messages on his screen, one from Sally from an hour ago, another from Y/N grom fifteen minutes before, and a third one from Andre just two minutes ago, in an attempt to ignore his reality read his first.

Where the fuck are you Block? We have the crew ready and I'm not putting my production on hold for you!

Before he could look at the other two Andre was calling him incredibly mad at him, and he shut everything else down and simply started his car while he answered.

"I'm sorry, I slept in, I'm on my way"

[paechwrites]

A mega gift fic I did for @caruleanfox as a writing exercise and because I just wanted to lol. Enjoy ʕ•ﻌ•ʔ

---

It was the third time in the row that Dave came by to his sister's house, the first visit Rose assumed he needed something, eggs or milk maybe; it wasn't odd for him to swing over to Rose and Kanaya's house, showing up on their doorstep at least once a week or so and asking if they wanted to join him in whatever social activities he had planned. 

But instead, Dave casually offered to watch over their son, Jasper, with a solemn expression. The first time, Rose gladly handed him over without a second thought, needing a night out for just her and Kanaya without maternal duties. The second run happened two days after, three movie tickets in his hand and inquiring if Jasper wanted to go with him and Karkat to the theatres. The movie, in question, was a kids film, particularly for children under the age of five. Jasper, what Dave shrugged off as a coincidence, happened to be under the age of five - two, to be specific. 

Rose smirked at this, commenting slyly on the matter. "Did you really go and buy tickets at the box office for a mind-numbing children's film, even if my answer if Jasper could come was no? Are you regressing due to your blemished childhood? I hope Karkat hasn't reacted so negatively to this development."

Dave frowned, shaking his head and insisting he just wanted to spend quality time with his nephew. Nonetheless, Rose complied, taking a moment to bathe him while Kanaya proceeded to dress him. Once Dave dropped off Jasper back to his home, their son had been the most hyper he'd ever been, after consuming popcorn and a probable gratuitous amount of candy without monitors. 

Perhaps Dave was merely trying to win Jasper's love, bigger than he adored his mothers. Kanaya, admittedly, felt a twinge of jealousy creep up her shoulder.

And the third time, Dave took him for a day out at Chuckie E. Cheese and insisted Rose and Kanaya join along, to which Jasper wasted no time getting tuckered out; Dave had to fit himself into the kiddy playhouse entrance and climb up obstacles in order to fetch him from the highest ground. When Dave brought him down, his face had been greased with specks of pizza sauce and only a handful of tickets clutched in his little hand. 

Dave went ahead and used a napkin from a nearby empty table to rub away the sauce, fixing the strands of bleach hair then asking him gently if he wanted to cash in the the tickets before they left the establishment. That moment, Rose had never seen once, a fatherly aura practically radiating from the display, not to mention once Dave set him down and reached for his hand. 

Rose and Kanaya had never certainly seen that side of him, Dave moreso acting as Jasper's fun, no-limit uncle that helped him to get food smattered on his face and clothes with spoilt treats added. Mainly because he didn't have kids of his own so repercussions weren't always present in his mind than just having simple fun. The change was drastic, not even Karkat had an answer to it when questioned about it.

Then it hit them. Rose and Kanaya shared knowing, curious looks as they walked back to the car while Dave carried Jasper on his shoulders.

~~~~

"Is there something you've been pondering about, Dave?" Rose asked, criss-crossed on the couch on an afternoon with Dave sitting inches away from her on the couch.

Dave shot his head up from his phone, a reflection of Rose staining his shades.

"Ponderin' about what brand of shoes I should buy? Fuck yeah, I've been, I only have like one pair of shoes like as if I'm a bum on the street with tissue boxes for shoes and shaking that mug as rhythmically as I can, except instead of pennies, it says coochie because matters of the heart come first." Dave spouted, checking his phone when it buzzed in his palm. Rose gave him a mellow look, fixing her posture on the cushions.

"I think Nike's would look good," Rose mused out loud, thuds suddenly resonating out in the hall until her purple eyes landed on Jasper; who beamed at the sight of his uncle.

"But you and I both know that wasn't what I was referring to."

Dave raised both his brows above his shades, watching as Jasper toddled over to Rose and stabled his hands on her lap.

"I don't know what the hell you're getting at, but I genuinely thought you were invested with me about choosing what sick shoe wear I should buy. I'm hurt, Rose." Dave put an exaggerated hand to his chest, earning Rose to roll her eyes.

"I'll humor you later on that, if you'd like, but I called you over for important matters." Rose stated, resting a soothing hand on Jasper's stark white hair. Dave shrugged lightly in response.

"Nothing important really going on."

"Matters as in, family matters. Or alternatively, why you keep whisking away my son."

Dave froze, lowering down his phone as his thumbs hovered above the keyboards.

Rose looked at him attentively, her posture fitted into as if she was a therapist handling one of her usual patients.

"Well, uh," he cleared his throat, turning off his phone and glancing up at Rose with his shades mirroring a view of herself. Rose suddenly placed both her hands against one knee, perking it up a bit on the couch and making Dave groan.

"I feel like I'm being interviewed for a babysitting job here." Dave said, slackening his shoulders.

"I mean technically, you've been babysitting these past days."

"Those are classic uncle bro bonding days, not boring ol' hours of making sure the kid doesn't get into any trouble around the house."

"Jasper rarely gets into trouble, mind you."

"Yeah but that ain't the point though."

Rose piqued an eyebrow, scanning him over suspiciously with deep purple eyes.

"You know, I've never really pegged you as one to have baby fever," Rose said, causing Dave to choke up and grasp a hold onto his pants.

"Baby fever? There's no baby fever or any sort of fever flaring up in here." Dave deadpanned, as hard as he could manage, what with his voice raising high pitched in the middle of his sentence. Rose pursed her lips in amusement.

"Are you and Karkat, perhaps, leaning in a family-way now?" Rose smirked, Dave immediately waving her off before dropping his hand flat. He emitted a loud sigh, his cheeks flushing and feeling more vulnerable than he's ever been. She'll prattle on about this if he doesn't come clean.

"Okay," Dave started. "Okay, okay. This is really fuckin' dumb, it happened in a really-"

"Dave." Rose cut in a little sharply, gesturing towards Jasper with a nod of her head.

"I mean, uh, this is really kinda unfortunate and dumb that I have really strong feelings for, and it happened in a very uncharacteristic cool kid way." he rambled, Rose humming responsively.

"Go on."

Dave let out a huff.

~

"Dude, make sure you know how to handle those kids," Dave advised, not looking up from his phone as he slung his arm over the bench and bubbly giggles poured into his ear, Karkat's more deeper, scratchier laughter roaring above them. "I don't wanna deal with angry lusii or something. Whoever the hell is in charge of those kids."

"I'm wrangling them just fine, thanks for asking." Came Karkat's gruff, along with grub chirrups. Dave nodded mindlessly, scrolling through his new messages. For awhile, Karkat's laughter intermingled with practically chipmunk-squeaked voices were all Dave could hear, eventually growing fond of the sound with a small smile tugged at the corner of his lip. The growing generation of young trolls loved Karkat astoundingly, just as much as they did Kanaya; it was quite comedic to see a grub latch onto his pant leg as he started trekking back home.

"Hey Dave!!"

At this, Dave lifted his head up and away from his screen, a low sounding 'yeah?' under his breath. The view of Karkat being used as a jungle gym obstacle for the young trolls met his shaded gaze, a bronze grub tucked to his chest and pressing its head affectionately into him, a wide toothy grin plastered on Karkat's face as a rust climbed and perched onto his shoulder.

"These little bastards think I'm cooler than you!" Karkat boasted. He never was one for censoring himself around delicate, impressionable ears - that is, unless Rose and Kanaya were around. They'd lecture him more than once when a profanity would slip off his gray tongue with innocent Jasper only inches away.

Dave couldn't help but emit a giggle, warmth vibrating throughout his chest. His small smile transpired to a full, fleshed smile, just the imagery of Karkat doting on children set a sudden flame.

It wasn't seconds long until the thought rushed into his head; the thought of a tiny being that shared Karkat's gray skin, but looked like Dave and had his unnaturally burgundy pupils, right there in the commotion with the wrigglers and Karkat. He swallowed.

~

Dave buried his face into his palms, shades pushed up against his forehead. Rose, this time, looked at him with a soft smile, shifting a little closer to him and placing a hand on his knee. Jasper stood onto his tippy toes, reaching for the slowly sliding-off shades, to which Rose made a disapproving noise of and probed him to quickly snatch away the shades.

Rose playfully shook her head, then reverted her attention back on Dave.

"Well, there is certainly nothing wrong with developing a paternal need.." Rose started, Dave squeaking into his palms. Oh, jesus, it was a terrible idea to converse with Rose about this. But what other choice did he have? Karkat was off the table immediately (for now) and Kanaya would undoubtedly take the same route Rose is doing now, the others he just didn't feel too confident to bring it up. His ears felt hot, feeling as if every eyes in the room were glued onto him; except for perhaps one little boy too transfixed with Dave's shades behind the couch.

"Oh my god, Rose, no."

"I think you'd make an excellent father, and Karkat definitely fits the role quite nicely from what Kanaya has told me."

"Rose, don't infect me with your family disease-"

"I think it's about time Jasper gets a cousin anyway, he spends a little too much time with adults rather than other children his own age range, don't you agree?"

Dave issued another throaty noise, a bright red blush painting his face behind his hands. He'd have to talk to Karkat about the idea tonight, instead of harboring it any longer.

***

Karkat tapped his spoon against the rim of the bowl, watching the dices of chopped carrots swimming in the broth, mixed with pieces of chicken and optional trollian toppings. Dave still wasn't up for trying Alternia cuisines, much to Karkat's annoyance, so he made sure to store a separate pot for himself that were filled to the brim of what Dave would gag at and compare it to the most vulgar of things.

Karkat hummed thoughtfully, dipping his spoon back into the soup and bringing it into his mouth. Where was Dave anyway? Dinner had been prepared half an hour ago and the last time Karkat heard of him was when he was at Rose and Kanaya's house.

As if on que, sounds of the living room door creaking open echoed throughout the house, signaling of Dave's arrival.

Karkat perked his posture up a little. Dave walked into the kitchen, shuffling with something in his pocket. It took a minute for Dave to lift his head, a small smile tugging at his lip.

"Yo, Karkat, sorry if I took long." Dave greeted, placing his phone on the table and then heading to the fridge.

"You do know there's freshly cooked dinner to your side, right?" Karkat questioned. Dave shrugged, patting his stomach as he pulled out a basket of strawberries.

"Already ate at Rose and Kanaya's house." he replied, taking a seat across Karkat with the full basket and plucking one out.

All around, dinner was unusually quiet - Dave was unusually quiet, and this set Karkat off a bit. On an ordinary night, Dave would be flapping his mouth away, making all sorts of gestures and going from topic-to-topic. Maybe Dave just wasn't feeling talkative tonight.

But then.

"Hey, so Karkat, you remember that thing like a week ago?"

Karkat looked up from his plate, eyebrow arched. That was unspecified.

"A thing? From a week ago?" Karkat repeated, confused. Dave nodded his head, coughing into his arm as he seemingly choked on a strawberry stem.

"Yeah, y'know, when we were like....uh, at the park?" Dave recounted, a blank expression embedding Karkat's face until he hummed responsively.

"With the lovable little shits? Yeah, I remember that." Karkat said, taking a swig of his drink. Dave stared at his husband through his shades, lips thinned. How in the world was he supposed to go about this without his face looking like a tomato and his hands distractingly fidgety.

Dave let out a drawn string of 'uh's, resting his elbow on the table. Dave never wished for anything more than for Karkat to magically read his racing thoughts, chewing the inside of his cheek as a tic.

Karkat had always been a paternal type, as much as he wouldn't admit and only respond with an roll eye; Dave studied how his expression seemed to soften at the immediate moment a small chubby hand slapped against his chin.

Come on, Dave, the blond thought to himself.

Straightening his stature, Dave pursed his lips. "I could've confused you for a jungle gym obstacle that day, all the grubs and wrigglers just crawlin' over you like you're the Ronald McDonald statue out in the play area. Or wait, were actually any Ronald McDonald statues? Back on my old Earth, I mean, because I swear I have this fuzzy memory of a commercial coming onscreen where other little kids were thrashing and circling around a plastic Ronald McDonald statue like it was the holy man himself, McDonald's being the most devout of all restaurants."

Karkat simply rolled his eyes.

"Hey, you think those kids ever been to Earth C's McDonald's before?" Dave piped up, Karkat only shrugging his arms.

"I don't know, Dave, I'm not even those wrigglers' guardian so it's not like I see them everyday and know what they've been doing or where they've been, let alone digested." Karkat said. A surprising grin mounted itself on Dave's face, startling Karkat just a little.

"Aw sweet, I bet the grubs don't even know what the hell a McDonald's is and the non-grubby ones probably love the shit out of it, McDonald's is practically every kid's paradise to dine out at, I've only gone like three or four times when I was a kid, but that place was an absolute heaven to me, being able to sip on apple jay and eating probably-processed cheeseburgers and greasy as fuck fries-"

Karkat cut into his husband's overtly exciting rambling without hesitation. "Dave, we're most likely not gonna see that gang of ankle biters again."

Dave immediately deflated. Oh, no.

"What?"

"Half those kids belonged to parents and lusii already present at the park, remember?"

"Yeah, but, didn't you say they were from the brooding caverns?" Dave questioned, tilting his head a little.

"The grubs were from the brooding caverns, but Kanaya's already cleared out the already-hatched grubs from the caverns two days ago, ready for the Mother Grub to deposit more eggs." Karkat explained, watching Dave slumped in his seat with a look of realization and thin lipped upsetness. Karkat chewed on his lip lightly.

It was quiet for a short moment, Dave looking plainly at the table cloth before choking out an 'oh'. Possibly finding the sudden silence just as awkward and unwelcomed the mutant troll found it.

Dave bit his tongue, tips of his fingers burning as he ached to spit out his offer already. He gulped heavily.

"Hey, uh, Karkat, Karlkat, kitkats, Karks," Dave fumbled, leaning more into the elbow laid on the table. "I don't think I've ever used those nicknames before, except for probably kitkat because I mean c'mon, your name practically sets itself up for that pun like it's got no business, I think I actually have a paper with a laundry load of written idea nicknames I can give you, hold on let me go get it-"

"Dave!" Karkat snapped, making the man pause midway of lifting off his seat.

Dave quickly plopped back down, clearing his throat to refresh their conversation. He stabled his feet to the ground, staring directly at Karkat through his shades. Are his shades even appropriate right now? Should he take him off so Karkat could take him seriously?

His fingers moved up a tad, almost wanting to act on just that.

"Karkat, I was kind of thinking, like a lot on this," Dave started, brushing his hand over the black ledges of his shades. His voice almost cracked, nerves jumbling and surging through him. "Those kids from the park, uh, really made me consider something. Of how it would feel like, and be like, to have a lil' tike running around...here too."

Karkat shifted an eyebrow up at him, his face flying into a curious look, and a bit wary. Dave took that as a sign to continue, attempting his hardest not to get caught up in his rambles.

"I've actually sometimes wondered what adorable abomination we could make, like how red their eyes would be, your bright pigment or mine, or if they'd have bleach white strilonde hair, horns or hell, no horns at all."

Karkat slowly released his spoon from his grasp, mouth slightly open. Dave laughed nervously, cheeks flushing from embarrassment.

"What would we name it anyways? Jayden Broseph Karkat The Second Strider-Vantas? Or just Strider?" Dave itched at the back of his palm. "And, y'know, I think it'd be cool to have a family with you - we're already at that age and married, so it's not like we're speeding through this like a goddamn Mario game, have myself a best dad in the world cup while you get the kid ready for school. Rose and Kanaya have been waiting on our asses anyways to get Jasper some new playmate, so..."

Dave removed his glasses from the bridge of his nose, white and red staring keenly at Karkat.

"What....do you think?" he asked aloud.

Karkat blanched. His pointed ears turnt down, hesitating what to say, as a low blush crept on his face and spread.

"Okay. Um, wow," Karkat coughed out, eyes wide. "Are you - you sure?"

"Absolutely, man."

"With me?"

"Who else would I do this with, Gamzee?"

Karkat's eyes traced back to his bowl, shoulders tightening with a grand decision hanging over them. His food might've gone cold by now. He couldn't remember the last time he touched it, actually.

"Alright."

--

John gaped at them, looking Dave and Karkat up and down before a big grin painted his face.

"So, will you help?" Dave asked once more, returning back the same excited smile as Karkat shuffled behind him.

"Absolutely!" John yelled. "Oh, this is so exciting!"

"I know bro."

The moments in the ectolabs seemed like a blur to Karkat, everything happening so quickly as he stood before the platform and peered down at it intensely, boldly. Waiting for the bundle to just zap and appear, his heart thrumming.

Dave choked beside him, already breaking out into a sweat. "God, I'm so nervous."

"Dave, it's a little late for nervous." Karkat grumbled back, but swallowing thickly with anticipation.

In a flash, what took a swift second but the mutant couldn't tell as he screwed his eyes shut, messy bleach hair suddenly appeared and caught his eye instantly. Two new big and red eyes casted open, six talons clacking against the platform as the red grub emitted a yawn into the air.

"Holy shit its got my hair." Was the first thing Dave voiced. She looked at the two confused, switching her head from the human to the troll. Karkat felt his gaze permanently glued to the new grub, unable to tear his eyes from the mix of red and pale gray and white fluff of hair.

"She."

"What?" Dave looked over at him.

"She has your hair....and my blood color." he corrected slowly, while Dave contorted into a surprised expression.

Karkat swallowed again, staring in disbelief at the small thing in front of him. Dave nudged him gently.

"Pick her up." Dave murmured, causing the mutant troll to nod lightly before carefully moving into hold his daughter up, for the first time. This way, Karkat and Dave got a better look at her. She wriggled a bit in Karkat's hands, giving another yawn that showcased her tiny sharp teeth.

"Fuck she's tiny." Dave observed, leaning into Karkat and shifting his shades up a little.

"She's a grub," Karkat said plainly, his tone leaning defensive. "Grubs are naturally tiny."

"I know, though she's not all troll." Dave reminded him, a defeated agreement coming from the troll. He never made so much extra precaution before of holding his grub, making sure to not squeeze her too tight in case his claws pricked her but not too loose where he'd accidentally and regretfully drop her. She reopened her bright red eyes soon enough, staring at him mindlessly.

"Yeah, she's gonna be a weird as fuck kid." Karkat stated, quite affectionately while he softly rubbed a thumb over her chubby cheek. She suddenly glared furiously at him, puffing her cheeks up into a ball. Dave reeled his head back, pretending to feel intimidated by the adorably grumpy, fierce expression his grub gave him.

"Oh jeez, look at that scowl, looks like she doesn't like being called weird." Dave whistled, cracking into a smile. "She looks like you."

Karkat furrowed his caterpillar brows, simultaneously with their new daughter. Dave emitted an amused sound, planting a hand on Karkat's shoulder as he weaved his other through her hair.

A surprised expression struck his face suddenly, pausing his hand for a moment before pushing aside her hair, revealing nubby horns, mirroring her troll dad's but just a tad nubbier, beneath the mountain of white hair.

"She even has your horns." Dave said gleefully, shifting his weight more onto Karkat and wrapping his entire arm around his neck. Karkat grinned, proceeding to cradle his kid closer to his chest, the grub hooking her talons on his turtleneck and keeping a steady gaze on Karkat, responsive small chirrups spilling out from her then nuzzled her grouchy chubby face into his chest when he laid a small kiss to her silky hair.

[cromwxll]

                          “NEVER TRUST A PRETTY SMILE LACED WITH POISON.”

⌠ 𝑮𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑵 𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑾𝑶𝑶𝑫, 𝟐𝟏, 𝑪𝑰𝑺𝑴𝑨𝑳𝑬, 𝑯𝑬/𝑯𝑰𝑴 ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, 𝑹𝑯𝒀𝑺 𝑪𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑾𝑬𝑳𝑳! according to their records, they’re a 𝑭𝑰𝑹𝑺𝑻 year, specializing in 𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑼𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑪𝑺, 𝑪𝑼𝑳𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑬, & 𝑨𝑺𝑺𝑰𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑨𝑻��𝑶𝑵 + 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑻 𝑬𝑳𝑰𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵; and they 𝑫𝑰𝑫 go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of ( 𝑨𝑳𝑬𝑿𝑨𝑵��𝑬𝑹 𝑴𝑪𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑬𝑵 𝑬𝑵𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑽𝑬𝑫 𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺, 𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑴𝑶𝑵𝑫 𝑪𝑼𝑭𝑭𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑲𝑺 𝑶𝑵 𝑭𝑰𝑵𝑬 𝑻𝑨𝑰𝑳𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮, and 𝑺𝑰𝑳𝑽𝑬𝑹-𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑮𝑼𝑬𝑫 𝑳𝑰𝑬𝑺  ). when it’s the 𝑺𝑪𝑶𝑹𝑷𝑰𝑶’s birthday on 𝟏𝟎/𝟑𝟎/𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟖, they always request their 𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑲𝑶𝑻𝑺𝑼 𝑹𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑵 from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. 

* / CHARACTER INFLUENCES: LOGAN ECHOLLS ( Veronica Mars ) + GINA LINETTI ( Brooklyn 99 ) + BLAIR WALDORF ( Gossip Girl ) + VARYS “THE  SPIDER” ( Game of Thrones ) + OLIVIA POPE ( Scandal ) + LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR ( Lucifer ) + NUCKY THOMPSON ( Boardwalk Empire )

* / VINE REFERENCES: x x x

* / PERSONAL ANTHEM: BEEF FLOMIX - Flo Milli

Hi all, I’m Bri and this is my mess of a child RHYS. Feel free to like this post or hmu on discord if you want to plot :)

TW: Abuse, depressive thoughts, substance abuse, sex. Read with caution.

* / GENERAL INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Rhysand Salvatore Cromwell.

KNOWN AS: Rhys.

AGE: Twenty-one.

DATE OF BIRTH: October 30, 1998.

PLACE OF BIRTH: Manhattan, New York.

GENDER: Cisgender male.

PRONOUNS: He/him.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual.

RELIGION: Agnostic.

* / PHYSICAL & MENTAL CHARACTERISTICS

HEIGHT: 5'11 ( the last inch escapes him ).

WEIGHT: 168 lbs.

HAIR COLOUR: Black.

EYE COLOUR: Black.

TATTOOS: Gavin’s tattoos.

PIERCINGS: None ( you can see ).

BODY TYPE: Athletic.

PHYSICAL HEALTH: Peak.

NOTABLE PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS: Signature smirk, dark eyes, curly hair.

FACE CLAIM: Gavin Leatherwood.

VOICE CLAIM: Gavin Leatherwood’s speaking voice.

CLOSET / STYLE: Chuck Bass.

ILLNESSES / CONDITIONS: Dyslexic ( kept secret ).

ADDICTIONS: Making people cry.

VICES: Wrath, pride.

* / BACKGROUND, OCCUPATION & EDUCATION

BIRTHPLACE: Manhattan, New York.

RAISED: UES Manhattan, New York.

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Gallagher Academy.

SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English, German, learning Japanese.

EDUCATION LEVEL: HS diploma from spy academy.

FINANCIAL STATUS: Upper class / Wealthy.

* / FAMILIAL BACKGROUND

FATHER: Salvatore Cromwell.

MOTHER: Natalia Cromwell ( née ? ).

SIBLINGS: None.

BIRTH ORDER: Only child.

RELATIONSHIP WITH FAMILY: Tense/Estranged.

PATERNAL GRANDPARENTS: Francis Cromwell + Constance Cromwell ( née Delgado ).

MATERNAL GRANDPARENTS: n/a.

SIGNIFICANT OTHER: None/Rose Park ( deceased ).

* / PERSONALITY

POSITIVE: Intelligent, charming, loyal, and dedicated.

NEGATIVE: Impulsive, cynical, arrogant, and wrathful.

ZODIAC: Scorpio.

MBTI TYPE: ENTJ.

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic neutral.

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Slytherin

AESTHETIC: Bubble baths, whiskey-filled crystal tumblers, penthouse parties, hate fucking until dawn, scarred knuckles, YSL cologne, secret hiding spots, guilt-ridden hues, broken promises, sly smirks with hidden intentions, uncontrollable impulsion, designer scarves, wrathful masochism, rolling blunts in town cars, full passports, lost boy syndrome, knives on tongues, hallowed out chest.

* / BIO: There was no option for Rhys on the night of his birth, he was destined for GREATNESS. Born to Salvatore Cromwell, a high ranking official in the Directorate of Operations of the CIA, and his wife Natalia on a chilly October night ─ the night before Halloween as a matter of fact ─ both saw his arrival as the best thing to happen to their seemingly perfect family. In a sense. And so he had to be the best.

He went to the best schools, only associated with the best families, the best parties and clothes and girlfriends, they were only the best of the best. Growing up, he didn’t recognize the pressure put on him was insurmountable. The lifestyle he lived didn’t expose him to those who had other options and chose their own path. He grew up with kids whose lives were planned out the second they were born. Just like him. Rhys assumed they were all the same. All their mothers were knocking back martinis with the egg white omelet they had for breakfast every morning, didn’t they? And when their dad came home after months of being away and says he was passed up for promotion again, he grabbed their arm so tight that sometimes it felt like it was gonna snap, right? His mother’s tears were normal. Getting hit with a belt any time he scored lower than expected on tests were normal. So why didn’t it feel normal?

Rhys’ home life was the one element he couldn’t control. But his social life he could. At school, he was a legend. With a family name like Cromwell, notorious to have spawned politicians and businessmen and entrepreneurs over the past couple of centuries, all great in their own right, Rhys was known. And he liked it. He had the perfect life at the spy school his father enrolled him in. With a group of friends as close-knit as they could be in a world driven by infamy and lies and a girlfriend he loved more than life itself, Rhys couldn’t imagine anything better. Until it wasn’t.

Rhys loved his girlfriend Rose Park. He knew he did because he treated her the way his father should’ve treated his mother. Their relationship wasn’t perfect, no relationship was, but they always found their way back to one another. For Rhys, she was a shining beacon of light and love and hope that one day, life would be better. That was until he found polaroids of Rose kissing their mutual best friend, Josephine. He was stunned. For a week he avoided her and their friends like the plague. What he felt wasn’t anger or rage, he didn’t turn spiteful, he was just...heartbroken. In the end, all he wanted was Rose’s happiness. While he hoped this was a need for sexual exploration, he knew that if Rose wanted to be with someone else that he would still support her. Because he loved her. And living a life with her in it as his friend was better than one without her at all. He was going to tell her this.

Until she was murdered.

Her death happening because her personal bodyguard, Josephine’s father, left her unprotected to tend to Jo’s sickness, sent him into a spiraling downfall. When his mother left a few weeks later, it only added to his growing pain. Nothing made sense. Not how his mother could just leave, no note, no anything. Not how his father barely flinched when he noticed all of her stuff gone. Not how the world seemed to keep on spinning even though Rose was gone. And especially, not how Josephine got to keep on with her life like nothing had changed. The pain he felt only escalated day by day, echoed on by the empty townhouse he returned to every day and the quiet dinners spent with housekeepers while his dad was away. He needed an outlet. And a target along with it.

His senior year, Rhys directed the anger he felt on the girl who took everything from him. Every spiteful word thrown at her, the influence he inspired on the rest of the student body to do the same, it all helped the throbbing ache that constantly permeated his body. When school was over for the day, he turned to recreational forms of comfort that went beyond his usual party favors. How he was able to graduate top of the class is still something that escapes him to this day. But his father knew of his antics and decided that his son would not go to college and only drown further in his sorrows.

In the CIA it’s called “The Lakehouse”. A remote hideout meant to kick into shape covert specialists by training them in all things brutality. Rhys was only there for two years, off the record, where he excelled in weapons and hand-to-hand combat while his pain was to be used as a driving force. There, his father finally sculpted him into the “perfect” son he always wanted: ruthless, cunning, heartless. It was here that Rhys realized that his father never cared about a family, but rather a legacy. Rhys was his breathing legacy, and he’d continue to be so once enrolled at Gallagher.

Waiting for admittance to Gallagher over the summer left him curious. His skills were now more finely honed, so he actively began to seek out his mother’s whereabouts. He quickly realized that it would be difficult, as the name he knew her by was not real. Her social security, passport, ID, even family photos, were all fake. Part of him wasn’t shocked, as marrying someone who was a complete fraud just for appearance's sake sounds like some his father would do, but in the end, it only left him with more questions. Who was she? Where did she go? Why did she leave?

Rhys hopes to find these answers now that he’s attending one of the top spy universities in the world. Surely, they’ll be able to help him find answers. Otherwise, he’ll take them for himself if he has to. On the plus side, if things ever turn out worse than he imagined and the pain returns tenfold, at least he has little Josephine here with him to keep him company. Two years later, she’s just as small, just as fragile. And Rhys always did enjoy breaking things.

* / PERSONALITY: He’s the stereotypical pretty boy with a side of trauma. Cocky. Sweet talker. Renowned partier. Excels in everything he puts his mind to, for what he’d like to think is for himself, but deep down it’s for the recognition and approval from his father. Though his father tried to mold him into something unfeeling, like a brutal machine, it’s just not in his nature. Rhys feels. A lot. That’s why he’s still hurting over the death of a girl he loved over three years ago. Maybe it’s because it was the only healthy relationship he had in his life, and one of the only events he’s held no control over. A stickler for how he likes things, he’s very particular about who he interacts with. At Gallagher, he will be no different. He’s the best, and he needs to be surrounded by only the best.

* / WANTED RELATIONSHIPS: His bros, competition at the school, someone he trusts enough to tell about locating his mom ( only it won’t be immediate but a relationship that builds up to it ), and the usual ( party friends, lovers, etc...)

[roughsexwithgaga]

To Love Again pt.1

Monday, August 10

”What the fuck is going on up there?”

A loud cranking noise was heard throughout the stadium and then the large 360 screen started to descend between the pillars. A loud floof-floof-floof was heard as the lights on the ground all lit up in order and blinded the personal on the ground. Five ”floating” stages were placed out on the ground and waiting to be rigged.

The floodlights beneath the screen came on and suddenly the whole floor bathed in blue light. It looked like a space ship coming down to land when the massive spotlights flipped outward and the screen continued dow. Lady Gaga’s tour director Marko screamed at the supervisor to shut it down but it was too late. The screen hit the spotlights and stopped. The snapping sound of the metal when it broke whipped across the empty stadium before two of the spotlights came off their attachments and fell over 60 feet to the ground.

Luckily no one was standing below it but Marko cursed and screamed that whoever had made this idiotic construction should be forced to climb up and put them back. It was the 5th show of Lady Gaga’s stadium tour in support of her sixth studio album and following in the footsteps of her successful soundtrack to her first movie as a leading actress. The concert was scheduled tonight and they still had 16 hours to go. He understood the workers were tired from being up all night and the new shift was supposed to take over just now.

He needed sleep as well and looked at his watch. 6 am. The Lady herself wouldn’t be pleased when she woke up. There had been technical difficulties nearly every show and last minute fixes. Three versions of the stage was out on the roads across USA and one spare version was still in Colorado. The one they used the opening night in Denver when Gaga performed in front of 78,000 ecstatic fans had been working the most satisfying so far. It had been used twice. It was his first time as tour director for such a massive tour and he was nervous, but Gaga had picked him personally and he wanted to deliver.

This day’s show was in Pasadena and the second biggest one on the North American leg. It was sold out of course and fans who wanted a good spot in the pit had been lining up all night. Gaga stayed at her house in Malibu and was scheduled to arrive four hours before the show. Marko knew everything had to be ready by then. No more delays. He left the stage site to get some sleep and planned to be back by noon but first he had to call her manager and sort out the broken spots.

\o/

It was 8 am and Lady Gaga was on the phone with her manager Bobby. The day before she had arranged a small birthday party for her dad so the sleepover guests were still asleep. The frequent technical issues obviously weren’t hers to deal with, but she had told her manager she wanted to know so she was prepared if anything needed to be changed.

”It’s almost like… I don’t wanna say it, Stef.” Bobby sounded a bit worried. ”There are two crews working on mounting and dismounting the stages and the other crew doesn’t have these kind of issues and it seems really unlikely one crew has the same damn troubles with two different stages.” He paused and took a deep breath. ”The screen isn’t even supposed to run into the spots no matter how they are rotated. And the noise it made, I nearly shit my pants thinking about it now.”

Gaga listened to him and exhaled. ”So what are you saying?”

”Someone is either really sloppy or wants the tour to look bad. It’s not like these issues would go unnoticed before the show anyway. It’s just costing a lot of money and time.” Bobby sighed and told her he would talk to Marko and Stageco, they were in charge of providing the stage and the crews. ”I’m sorry Stef, you don’t deserve this,” he added before they ended the call.

She put the phone down on the counter just in time to turn around to see her daughter bounce across the floor and scream in delight as her french bulldog Gus tackled the child to the ground. The girl spun around and lost the ball she was holding. ”My ball,” she shrieked but the dog obviously didn’t care. He quickly snapped up the ball and ran away, out into the garden and the girl was about to go after him when Gaga reached down and grabbed her pajamas by the back.

”My ball!” the girl repeated and squirmed as her mother lifted her up and wrapped her arms around her. She put her face against the girl’s neck and smelled her, kissed her cheek and made the little girl giggle with delight.

”Mama,” she said and pointed out through the patio doors. ”My ball.”

Gaga nodded. ”Yes, Joanne. Gus borrows it.”

”Bohwoh,” she repeated and looked disappointed.

”What do you say we have some breakfast, my lazy little peanut.” Gaga said and put Joanne down in her chair. The child was usually sleeping late, and had never been an early bird. She insisted on letting the girl sleep in her bed and when she returned after a show she could sneak into bed and wake up together with her. It was the most blessed feeling in the whole world to have the tiny body next to her, waking up to her chit chatting to herself in her baby language. Just recently she had been starting to put two words together and loving her own voice so much she never shut up.

Her daughter had Christian's dark brown eyes. Her hair had been dirt blonde when she was born but darkened with time. Now she was 2 years old and the most important thing in her life. She was the result of a a steamy, sweat soaked night of sex that left her body aching and pregnant – to her surprise. Christian had met up with her before a two day break in her touring schedule in St Louis when they hadn’t seen each other in 14 days. Gaga had been sick a few days, and thrown up a lot. She knew she had messed up with her birth control pills and just maybe she didn’t care on purpose.

By December just before the last shows she had found out she was pregnant. It was the perfect gift to receive at the end of her last tour. Not planned, but certainly welcomed. The last trimester of her pregnancy had been difficult and draining and while gaining a lot of weight she had been emotionally unstable and felt exhausted. She had given birth on August 14, a little more than six weeks before the premier of A Star Is Born, and had forced herself to work hard to get back in shape for the red carpet.

The birth had been a long drawn out process as well where she had complications and lot of bleedings post-birth causing her to stay a few days longer than planned. The baby was late. Nearly a week after due date, refusing to leave the safety of her womb.

When their baby was born she was amazed. This new person that she created, that had grown inside her. She had never known such gratitude and happiness. Her daughter made her heart nearly beat out of her chest as she held her for the first time. Convinced she had never seen a prettier baby in her whole life. Christian had been by her side the entire time and when he held the little girl in his hands and smiled with such pride she was convinced they would be a real family.

She didn't even care about her bloated face in all the photos from the hospital. Her round cheeks, swollen lips and double chin. Her tits had been huge and she kind of missed that. A photo shoot she did while she was still breastfeeding where her boobs were swelling out of her clothes had caused a media frenzy like everyone suddenly forgot tits ’tend’ to grow as they produce milk.

The first 3 months had been the worst uphill Gaga had ever experienced in her entire life. She relied on the tremendous support of her own family and was so eternally grateful for the baby, but she was hitting rock bottom and being a mother was the only thing keeping her above the surface. Her mom, dad, sister and Christian were basically the only people she met.

Even in her darkest moments she noticed how much it got to Christian, and how he had to distance himself from her. He was affected, but the baby came first and he did possess an overflow of paternal instincts. She tried her best, she loved her baby and had to keep pushing through the darkness for her. Some mornings she barely got out of bed and luckily Christian was there to take over.

When Joanne turned 4 months she was starting to get her life back on the tracks. At least she managed to open a door to a little light and started to see the end of the depression she was going through. Their first Christmas together as a family actually turned into a nice memory.

The following year Christian escorted her to the Academy Awards where she finally won her Oscar for Best Original Song. She made a jaw dropping performance and received a standing ovation that never seemed to end. Life was fucking amazing again. She had her family, the success, the critics were on her side, the public loved her, but she didn’t need the approval of strangers anymore. The confidence was radiating from her. She kept her daughter away from it all because she wanted her to grow up happy and away from all the judging eyes.

Being happy, having a career and both a daughter and a man to come home to must have been too many good things for one person, so about two weeks before her 33rd birthday everything was like turning a hand. She thought Christian would propose, but instead he broke up with her. He never gave a reasonable explanation to why but she understood that he was jealous of her and Joanne. The baby and her career came in the way of him being the priority in her life and having access to her whenever he wanted. He had yelled at her that they couldn’t even touch each other anymore because there was a baby between them constantly. And that the baby should learn to sleep in her own bed.

Whatever Gaga suggested, Christian somehow managed to want the opposite. She had been blind for months, completely swallowed up by her daughter and her own career. Taking Christian’s presence for granted and assuming he was as pleased and happy as she was. After all he did stand by her side through her absolute worst. She called him an idiot who was jealous of his own daughter.

On top of things Christian obviously immediately found a new partner. A little blonde model thing half his age while she felt fooled and abandoned. It took a month to get into her head that he wasn't worth it and that she would cope without him. Her value as a woman and mother didn't depend on him.

It also dawned on her how lonely she was and how hard it was to find a man to cuddle up against during the nights. It was the only thing she missed in her life at that point. She spent the summer making music, and there had been moments when she was close to dating, but it always ended before it lead anywhere. She was better at reading people now, and no one passed her tests. And then there was Christian. He was still confessedly involved with the child and fulfilling his duties as father. He spent a lot of time with her and suddenly never questioned Gaga's scheduling or suggestions.

On Joanne’s birthday she had sex with Christian again for the first time in six months. Knowing how hard it was to turn her down once she set her mind to something and how much he still was attracted to her, she used her social skills and her body and got what she wanted. Gaga realized she did it to prove to herself that she was still attractive, and not just for the sex itself. It simply felt amazing to be desired.

Christian’s new partner evidently found out about him cheating because Gaga texted him about it and she saw it. Gaga did it on purpose, because she still desperately wanted them to be a family and did everything in her power to win him back. So of course she did. Less than a month later they were a couple again and Gaga had already started working on her new album. Their love seemed to overcome all past obstacles and she was living again. Gaga released her new single ’Love Reunion’ out of the blue at the Grammys while announcing a 7-month worldwide stadium tour starting later the same year. Her demands had been no back-to-back shows and a maximum of three shows a week. Live Nation had agreed. They realized she needed time between concerts.

Gaga and Christian got married in New York, with only their closest family and friends attending the ceremony and then they spent two weeks in a rented house in Italy before she returned home and finished her album which was released in late April. By that time the tour was already sold out and they had not even began with the hyping and promotion. With the tour starting in August it was the shortest span ever for her between album release and tour, and the amount of work put into planning and promotion were consuming their relationship.

Now that she was starting to travel again and became accessible to her fans and media he felt left out. She was constantly booked somewhere and took her daughter with her everywhere. It was getting more and more difficult to find time for Christian even when he came along and she could sense how he once again felt threatened by her career and that Joanne came first. They argued over petty things again and Gaga felt like he tried to make her feel bad. If you’re not going to support me, you can leave me alone until you get over your male ego, she told him in a heated argument.

So a little over two weeks ago, in the middle of the tour launch, he had moved out of her mansion claiming it was because he felt like an employee in her massive team and he was sick of being treated like one while everyone ran around her acting like she was some kind of hub in this universe. To her it seemed like he wanted to punish her during one of the most important stages in her career.

He had been to the premiere of her tour, but skipped the following shows and she avoided conversation with him because she was still hurting. It had been hard to find personal time and rehearsal took so much effort she stumbled into bed at nights barely fit to say good night. Maybe it was better he got a little distance to everything so he discovered he missed her. He didn’t have to be so excessive about it. These last two months had been so intense and now that the tour started she finally felt like she had time to breathe between shows.

Christian was the only man she had been with the past 4 years. She told herself she only wanted him, and gave him so much of her time, but he still wanted more from her since he basically gave up his own career to be around her. She had told him she needed him, and his support for her was the most important one. She didn’t want to travel the world without him. He knew it would be like this because this was her job, but she would always come back to them. The disappointment she felt for him at this point was immense and she was heartbroken and didn’t know how to fix it without giving up a piece of herself.

…

Now she was sitting in her kitchen, watching her daughter eat all by herself and still ranting about her ball and the dog borrowing it. She looked at her, rested her chin against her palm and felt that enormous love in her chest that nearly made her suffocate and fill her lungs with air at the same time. When she leaned too close her daughter grabbed the frame of her glasses and pulled them off her face and tried them on. Her sticky fingers smeared the glass before she helped put them back on her mother’s nose and applauded herself on her good deed.

When Gaga was pregnant she had been letting her hair grow, and didn’t use bleach or dye. It was probably a good idea since her hair thinned out a lot after she gave birth. It was still healthier now than 3 years ago and reached her shoulders when she decided to go blonde again. She took the baby out of the chair and carried her upstairs to change her clothes. She put on a long sleeved top, pants and a little hat before they went outside for a little stroll around the garden and look at the flowers and the insects. And maybe even find the ball, she said and Joanne clung to her hand trying to manage down the stairs.

Every time the little hand searched hers when they walked outside it was another one of those proud moments when she felt like she had found her purpose in life. She was afraid she would love the baby to death, buried her nose against her neck before putting the child on the ground and let her run ahead of her on the gravel between the roses. She was a happy child, and she knew it was because she was immensely loved. Even moving out, Christian still wanted to be a part of the girl’s life, as he was her father after all and she deserved to have him in her life. But Gaga would never let anything or anyone come between her and her daughter.

Her mom had been her greatest support. She had Emilie, her nanny and also her assistants Mariah and Sam and her physiotherapist Heather, but her mom was the person she relied on the most of all, apart from Christian. He had to understand performing was her job, it was what she was supposed to do. Not only being a mother and a wife. It was her drug, her oxygen but there would always be them once it was over.

\o/

When Bobby called again Gaga was singing songs with Joanne who murdered the keys on a mini-piano. The girl was not the slightest impressed with her mother singing unless she sang directly to her face and tickled her. Then she laughed so hard she choked and screamed. Gaga ate some leftover food from the birthday party while she kept her daughter company. She didn’t want to eat too close to the show because it made her sick most of the time.

”What are you doing?” Bobby asked.

”Multi-tasking,” Gaga replied with her mouth full.

”They have fixed it. Stageco are going to have a talk with the team later when the nightshift is awake.”

”OK, great,” Gaga said. Glad to have a break from the baby talk. It wasn’t much of a two-way communication thing yet. Joanne just loved hearing her own voice and used her two-phrase sentences over and over. ”My dada,” she said and pointed at a chair. The girl started to talk louder using her limited array of words to get her mother’s attention back. Gaga buried her nose against the dimple below Joanne’s neck making the girl squirm and giggle.

”I can hear the princess. How is she?” Bobby gushed.

”Recovering from a cold, but that doesn’t seem to slow her down.” Gaga smiled and tilted her head back over the backrest of the couch. She put her feet up on the table and heard the voices behind her in the kitchen when they returned from shopping. Emilie started unpacking the groceries and chatted with Cynthia who naturally needed to cuddle her granddaughter.

Gaga got up and changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt after she finished talking to Bobby and the others had a light meal in the kitchen before they had to leave to go to Pasadena. Joanne nearly ate half a melon for dessert while the dogs sat around her hoping for a treat to fall to the floor. Their butts left the floor in anticipation each time the child’s hands hovered over their heads but they had no luck today.

She packed her things into the Cadillac Escala and Cynthia came out with Joanne and a bag of her belongings. Her daughter followed her everywhere. It wasn’t even up for debate to leave her behind anywhere. Gaga had large black sunglasses on, her hair was in a pony tail and she wore a white large sweater and the baggy pants. She got in the car while her mom sat down in the back together with the girl and the nanny. Her dad sat next to her in the front and she drove out on the coastal road to LA and Pasadena. Traffic wasn’t so bad. Gaga sang together with her mom and daughter while they cruised on their way to the stadium.

When she arrived she waved at her fans and drove past the gates. She didn’t stop anymore. Hardly ever and her fans had gotten used to it. Some respected the fact that she was more private now and some still had meltdowns on social media about ”how much she’d changed for the worse”. She thought it would be weird if they were still the same person today that they were 10-15 years ago. She obviously still loved her fans, needed them, just as they needed her but she didn’t have enough of herself to give away anymore. She wanted to give everything to her daughter who sat shielded behind the tinted reinforced windows in the backseat. Blissfully unaware of all the fuss.

She drove all the way up to the doors and parked so she could walk out and take Joanne out of her baby car seat and just turn around to get her inside, away from the smattering cameras she noticed on the other side of the curb. The fans closed up against the gates to get a quick look at her before she hurried inside. Joe blocked the paparazzi’s view with his body and got into her car and parked it while the door closed behind her. The fans cheered her name and wished her luck.

She continued down a hallway and a large room where the personnel had just finished their dinner, told Cynthia to bring some fruit when her on-site guide told her it was already in her dressing room. ”Oh, right,” she said, distraught and continued underneath the stands towards her assigned room. It was decorated according to her wishes. It was light and had a warm golden light. She said hello to everyone in her staff, thanked them for being there and made sure everyone felt like they were there for a reason and that tonight was a team effort.

Bobby came inside and assured her everything was working excellent now. There would be no delays tonight. She had a new musical director, going for an electronic pop sound, with influences from disco and funk. Adam had rearranged a lot of her older hits and made a seamless show that spanned her whole career. Some songs had been scaled down to leave more room for her vocals while others had been majestically rearranged to be stadium anthems. The sultry, more mature version of Pokerface had breathed life into the stale beat and opened the doors for new choreography and made her enjoy the songs again.

When she started to plan this tour she had decided that she was done with the old, repetitive sound and moves and wanted to show the world that she was an artist as well as a performer and how diverse she was. Not ’just’ by sitting down to play a song on the piano. The show was a story of how she started out and took over the world and then slowed down, had some dark moments and then built up her career again and established herself as a legendary artist. One of the best ever.

Naturally she liked the second half of the show the best. Sitting by the piano, hearing the fans sing along, cry and then from there take them all the way home leaving them feeling like they were run over by a bus. Her show sent them through all her emotions, the raving happiness at the start, anger, sadness and forgiveness and finally confidence and strength. She had thought about it a lot and finally come up with the perfect storyline.

She felt like she was more involved than before and more awake, more able to leave things in the hands of people she trusted. She was on the floor stretching and trying to find some inner calm, going over some of the advice she had been given since the first show when they had watched it together. Too nervous she found herself walking to the back of the stage, away from the audience during vocally straining parts and losing contact with them. Sing towards them and not her band or some prop on stage. ”Don’t forget the audience,” she whispered and laughed. As if. It was a reflex to turn around and strut away to give the audience a nice view of her butt cheeks.

Bobby sat down on the couch and looked stressed.

”What is it?” she asked.

”Nothing, I hope.” He didn’t want to tell her he had been worried all day, and his suspicions about the ’mishaps’ was eating him.

Sarah started to prepare to do Gaga’s make up and Bobby got off the couch. He exhaled and posed like a boxer. ”Knock em dead, girl.”

She chuckled and hit his fists back.

Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | Pt. 6 | Pt. 7

[dunkcarlton]

We are getting divorced, later

The climate in Washington and uncertainty of where healthcare will end up has some couples rethinking their divorces. I’ve seen this before as a divorce lawyer.They are deciding to stay together to keep their current health insurance. This does not mean they are salvaging their marriage or there is any hope for a reconciliation. It simply means they are working on postnuptial agreements that outline how the finances and benefits will be distributed pending an official divorce. Other couples have chosen to finalize divorce documents but not sending them in until they know what will happen to healthcare. Previously couples could obtain a legal separation and be able to keep benefits for up to three years. However, companies no longer allow the legally separated partner to stay on employer plans. This leaves spouses with few options and this is the solution that many have come to.

THE AFFORDABLE CARE ACT

Women, especially suffered the most from a divorce prior to the Affordable Care Act. They would quickly be kicked off of healthcare plans their spouses had at work and would be unable to find an affordable plan. Under Obamacare, insurers were required to provide health care plans to anyone with a pre-existing condition. By no means is the current healthcare act fool proof but it has allowed more independence when getting a divorce. Now that it is being threatened, couples are reconsidering their options.

UNABLE TO MOVE ON

Divorces are caused by many things and couples who still care for their partner’s well-being will separate but help as much as possible to help them keep their benefits. This is a difficult situation for both spouses to be in. They want to move on with their lives and start anew but are tied together legally. When they start dating again and get into a new relationship, it can even put a strain on the new relationship because the partner might not be as understanding. This can also cause a complication for the divorcing partners as there can be an added pressure to get a divorce faster. This can foil the plan of staying together or holding the divorce for the sake of health insurance. Couples can only hope that Washington finds a health care solution or leave the Affordable Care Act in place.

RELIGION: SOMETIMES A TOUGH ISSUE TO CONFRONT IN CHILD CUSTODY

An important issue that sometimes comes up in Utah child custody cases is religion. Maybe one parent practices one faith, while the other parent practices another. Or maybe both parents practice the same faith, but one parent observes particular religious tenets while the other parent doesn’t. In any case, child custody and visitation arrangements should always be based on the best interests of the children.

It is completely understandable that each parent will want to adhere to his or her belief system, as well as pass religious (or secular) values on to their children; So, when it comes to visitation schedules, how can parents compromise in matters of faith?

With many religions, the issues to consider in child custody are clothing, food and the observance of other religious practices such as prayer and holidays. When there is a conflict, these are not easy matters to confront, but if parents want to avoid going to family court, it is important to remember that compromise is usually necessary.

Parents trying to set up a workable visitation schedule often have to address the question of where the children will go on certain holidays. Children, and especially younger ones, depend on routine for a sense of stability, so divorcing parents may want to establish exactly which religious holidays will be observed at which residence. Even if a sudden change of plans is necessary, that issue can be addressed when the time comes. In any case, it is better to have a plan in place rather than assume life will go smoothly.

The in-house observance of religious tenets is another issue that sometimes leads to conflict between parents. This issue can perhaps be even more contentious than parenting time on religious holidays. If parents have child custody and visitation concerns related to religious practices, then consulting with a Utah family law attorney may be helpful in understanding exactly what rights parents have.

Free Consultation with Divorce Lawyer

If you have a question about divorce law or if you need to start or defend against a divorce case in Utah call Ascent Law at (801) 676-5506. We will help you.

Ascent Law LLC8833 S. Redwood Road, Suite CWest Jordan, Utah 84088 United StatesTelephone: (801) 676-5506

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Source: http://www.ascentlawfirm.com/we-are-getting-divorced-later/

[theboardwalkbody]

47, 42, 37?

37. What’s your relationship with religion like?

The short version: Complicated

The long version: I was brought up Roman Catholic at my paternal sides VEHEMENCE. The same forcefulness that forced a Jewish woman to convert and baptize her children unless she force them and herself to face ridicule their entire lives at the hand of their own family members. My mom, a Methodist, was never too religious and mostly celebrated the Major Holidays and called it a day. The Roman Catholic side ALSO celebrated the Major Holy Days (added Ash Wednesday and Palm Sunday) but were never the ‘grace before meals and church every Sunday variety’. But for some reason the ALIGNMENT or DESIGNATION of Roman Catholic was/is a DEFINING CHARACTER TRAIT. This I do not understand. Anyway - my mom refused to convert despite their protests.

Still - I attended a Christian Pre-school (location was a factor) and before/after classes we would say the Our Father. I was baptized as Catholic, I was enrolled in CCD (I still have no idea what that stands for) and attended every Sunday during the school year. I made my Holy Communion and my Confirmation. My mom picked out Cecilia (saint of music) for my Confirmation name because of how much I liked music. My sponsor (the person who is with you when you make your confirmation and is ‘responsible for guiding you to jesus’ or something) was one of my Aunts. I was my sister’s sponsor for her confirmation as at the time my parents were in the middle of a nasty divorce and my mom did not want my dad or his family to be there (as a huge FUCK YOU because THEY are the Catholics) and because my mom and her family are Methodist they can not be sponsors. So I was the only option. 

But what does this mean? I have no idea. 

1. I hardly understand any of my own religion. I don’t know the difference between Catholic and Christian. Why are fucking FB notifications popping up on my computer all of a sudden I did not authorize this what the fuck. I learned NOTHING in CCD despite the fact I was SUPPOSED to be taught about the Saints and the various religious texts. I never paid attention because I was bored the fuck out of my mind. I never really cared.

2. But I was scared. Catholicism, in my own personal experience, is based on FEAR a lot. NEVER DO THIS AND NEVER DO THAT BECAUSE YOU WILL GO STRAIGHT TO HELL DO NOT PASS GO DO NOT COLLECT 200.00. I have been to church only when FORCED for someone’s baptism or communion or confirmation (or my own) or marriage. Here’s the three things you experience in church: a) lovely music that is kind of warming to the soul, b) SINNERS GO TO HELL c) your family members yelling at you to sit still, be quiet, do not embarrass us, be a perfect little angel all while you are UNCOMFORTABLE AS FUCK in a starchy dress because apparently when you go to church you need to be dressed like you’re about to meet God himself.

I was always scared I would go to Hell for one thing or another growing up: swearing, lying, stealing an eraser from a classmates desk in 2nd grade and feeling guilty so ditching it in a different classmates desk a few feet away, and masturbating. LOL During your confirmation you’re supposed to go into a confession box and confess all your sins so you can start your Confirmed Life free of sin - I didn’t tell the priest about my masturbating and when he asked “is that all you have to confess?” I said yes. So I started my Confirmed Life with two sins: a) chronic masturbating, and b) I fucking lied to a priest. So I assume I am going to Hell in a hand-basket. 

I was fortunate enough to be invited to a synagogue a few times by a friend. I remember I was TERRIFIED the first time I went. I assumed, due to ignorance and my only experience thus far, that I would be yelled at and dammed - the norm at church. I tagged along anyway, to make my friend happy, and borrowed some clothes to attend (black skirt and shoes, white shirt). I was even more scared after learning there was an even stricter dress code than Church. As I sat there, trying to understand the words the rabbi was saying for a SOLID TWENTY MINUTES before leaning over and asking my friend “wait - is he speaking English?” only to have her look at me with WTF written all over her face and reply “no....”, I was so paranoid I’d be “found out”. What I mean is - I felt like an Outsider. Like I was Intruding. Like I had “Catholic” stamped all over my forehead and everyone could see it clear as day and that someone, eventually, would stand up and shout at me to leave and curse me for desecrating a holy place with my presence. None of that happened, naturally, but when my friend and her family went to the rabbi after the service to discuss with him plans for her bat mitzvah I was shaking with fear because HE’S LIKE IN CHARGE AND WE’RE TALKING TO HIM AND HE’S DEF GOING TO KNOW I’M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE THERE. Anyway - I was never kicked out, I went back a few more times and the anxiety went away. My mom was like ‘that’s cool - it’s a new experience’ and when my GRANDMOTHER found out... well, she flipped. “DO YOU STILL LOVE JESUS? YOU’RE GOING TO GO TO HELL IF YOU EVER GO BACK THERE. YOU NEED TO GO TO CHURCH TOMORROW. YOU NEED TO BEG JESUS FORGIVENESS”. I went back a few more times and just didn’t tell her. 

I think I actually liked it better than Church. 

And other side note: whenever Jewish people happen to ask me my religion (not often but it has happened a few times working in the hospital and once during nursing school) I always feel really bad about telling them I am Catholic. I become ashamed and feel like I need to apologize. I never quite understood that, until I met a Jewish Classmate who explained that “all the Catholic’s I have met in the past have been really antisemitic”. And then I remembered my grandmothers treatment of Jewish people, including my aunt and cousins - her own grandchildren - and I realized. I feel like I owe everyone an apology on behalf of people like my grandmother.

3. Here’s my Adult Feelings. I don’t have a problem with religion. Any of them. I also don’t have a problem with anyone’s lack of religion. As long as you’re NOT AN ASSHOLE then you and I are good. I don’t go to church - I don’t care to. I do not want a religious wedding ceremony. I will PROBABLY baptize my children (unless perhaps I go the route of my uncle and marry outside of my religion in which I will allow my children to get older and DECIDE FOR THEMSELVES what they would like to do/which religion they want IF ANY - this was what my aunt and uncle wanted to do before my grandma and some other family members got involved). I will teach my children what I know - Jesus is a dude I guess - here’s easter and christmas and here’s your presents. But it’s never going to be a Big Deal. Because it’s not a Big Deal to me. 

4. Why It’s Complicated. Do I believe that God exists? I want to say yes, but I know I say it out of FEAR. I believe “I may not go to church, and I may curse like a sailor and masturbate like my fucking health depends on it, but fuck - I know I am a morally sound person and God knows this, too, therefore He can judge me in the way I conduct myself with other human beings. I don’t need to get on my knees and send him postcards for him to know I’m Good™.” However - recently I’ve had some Jesse Custer level moments of “God, I am reaching out and I really need some fucking help here” only to be met with NOTHING in response. I prayed during my Nursing School Grade Appeal meeting. Just praying for ANYTHING so I could get back into the program. What happened? Reality happened - I did NOT get back into that program. In that moment I thought: That’s it - there is no God at least not one who GAF about me. I cried harder.This month I went to a University to try and get into their nursing program. Upon arriving at my meeting I was told I had been misinformed and the school did NOT offer a Nursing Program. As I waited for the woman at the desk to grab the advisor anyway to discuss options I tried praying again - just for things to work out. They didn’t and I got angry - Of course they didn’t work, I thought, because it’s all a bunch of Bullshit.

SO yeah - it’s complicated. I verge on “It’s all bullshit” after spending about 10yrs thinking “well MAYBE it’s not - maybe it’s real - but I’ll be judged on my treatment of others, not on my practice of going to church and shit”. And even still all of it was based on FEAR. Also the sky outside has gone from green to red. What a storm.

42. What’s something you’re afraid that you’re capable of?

I am afraid that I am capable of fucking my entire life up. In two ways: 

1. Suicide2. Self-Sabotage. 

In terms of Issue 1 - I have gotten close with a lot of thoughts in the past. Three times I almost actually carried through with it. Twice spontaneously, and once was a “if no one answers my next phone call for help I am going to just give up and go swallow all those pills”. Someone did answer that phone. I called 5 people because I think deep down I didn’t want to give up, but every phone call that went unanswered I got closer and closer to ending it. My stepbrother answered call #5 on what I am almost convinced was one of the last rings. In the past I maybe had something to stop me - something saying ‘you need to live because XYZ needs you or because you need to ABC’. I’ve got none of that left anymore.

In terms of Issue 2 - I talked about it a little the other day, but my therapist isn’t wrong in regards to the fact that all my behaviors are destroying myself. I complain about being broke and yet I spend every dollar I have on garbage and food. I complain that I am unattractive and overweight and yet I continuously eat nothing but fast food and go out to restaurants by myself. I am out of shape and have high cholesterol, I continue to sit on my ass and shove fried food in my mouth. I want to get back into Nursing School but I spent all summer moping about not being in Nursing School and Having No Money and Being Depressed that I made 0 fucking effort to get back INTO it. I want to be hired as a nurse for the company I work for and yet I call out of work constantly and now have gotten FUCKING IN TROUBLE for it. It’s like I have two lists in my head. Good Wants (nursing career, weight loss, health increase) and Bad Wants (immediate satisfaction: clothes, food, vacations, etc.) and the ONLY wants I give into are the BAD ones. 

Yes, it’s hard - I’ve got the Anxiety and the Depression. I have no motivation, think everything is pointless, and have 0 hope for the future. 

But I am also lazy and impulsive and both of those things need to stop. I have coddled myself all summer and said it was OK to lay down and Give Up. Hell, LAST NIGHT I laid in bed and thought “but what if I did just give up? what if I quit my job, stopped going to school, and just decided to lay down in bed and never move again. I could be 800lbs and shit myself and then probably go to jail for never paying any of my bills - maybe I could say I’m insane and be locked up in a psych facility for the rest of my life - I could go through the motions of just existing every day.”. Of course it isn’t what I WANT with my life - I want to LIVE it and I want to be HAPPY - but this is the way I function anymore. 

I am single-handedly destroying my OWN life. And that I KNOW I am capable of now.

47. Have you ever forced or let someone take a fall for you?

I understand this to mean “take blame for you” and not “have you ever pushed someone down” but yes - I have actually pushed someone and they fell down. I shoved a friend of mine back when we were like 14 and he tripped over a log behind him and fell on his ass. He was very upset and didn’t want to talk to me for a bit until I apologized. I feel bad now because I know what inspired the push and it was REALLY SHITTY of me to do it. But yeah.

Anyway - the real question: The only thing I can remember is that time I stole that eraser from my classmates desk back in second grade but then I felt guilty (and also knew that they would recognize the eraser as theirs if I took it out) and ditched it in a different classmates desk. 

My logic there was: they wont think it was me because they’ll see it in THEIR desk and not MY desk and they will thing THAT PERSON stole it and get mad at THEM instead of me because they won’t know I did it. I honestly don’t remember the outcome of it. But I don’t think anything happened. I think, if I remember correctly, the person pulled it out of their desk and was like “how did this get in my desk” and handed it back to the proper owner and said “i found your eraser in my desk I don’t know how it got there, but here you can have it back” and the owner said “ok thanks”. and it was 100% not a big deal because they were both confused as fuck.

I KNOW I GET REALLY IN-DEPTH WITH THESE I AM SORRY BUT DO PLEASE ASK MORE.