#AND ALL 4 CATS ZOOMED INTO THE BEDROOM

[the-nexus]

EFFFF....

[runariya]

The Auction (JJK) • Chapter 5

pairing: wolf hybrid!Jungkook x cat hybrid!female reader genre: mafia!AU, hybrid!AU, dystopian!AU, S2L, dark romance, slow burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: foul language, angst, being held hostage, obsession and possessiveness, zoomies and howls <3, humiliation, thoughts about escaping, murder, showing of female genitals, failed escape, attempt, manhandling, chocking (not the hot kind), slight identity crises, OC has shit parents, lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 2.7K

a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

a/n 2: alright, listen, I’m really disappointed with auction myself. I thought I could tell short stories, but honestly, it all feels so rushed, unfinished, and shallow. I would’ve much rather fleshed it all out and made it flow better, but then the chs would’ve gotten way too long, which I didn’t want either, and now it’s all 💩 anywho, I hope you all still enjoy it lol

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • masterlist • 6

Today’s a day when you’re more bored than usual, not in a way that makes you moody, but in a way that, unfortunately, gives you the zoomies. You’ve been running around the penthouse for a straight hour now, using every elevated surface to jump on and off, hiding behind the curtains, and, shame on you, seeing how far you can nudge Jungkook’s sculptures before they topple off their stands.

You’re in your element, free, despite being still trapped here, when a tiny, beautiful red dot appears on the wall to your right. You stop dead in your tracks, eyes locking on it as your pupils dilate until there’s only black left. Wiggling your hips, you get ready to pounce on this lovely dot.

You charge at it, but it quickly darts from the wall to the floor and down the corridor, and you can’t help but zoom after it, desperately trying to catch it but always missing by just a hair’s breadth. The chase lasts a good few minutes—up and down the walls, over Jungkook’s couch, and back again—until it finally stops, and you think you’ve caught it, only to realise the dot’s not under your hands but on them.

“Huh?”

You move your hands away, only to quickly snatch at the dot again, only for it to still be on your hands, not under them.

Jungkook’s snicker snaps you out of your trance. Looking up, you see him standing in the study, which you hadn’t even noticed you’d run into, holding a laser pointer in his tattooed hand.

You’re absolutely mortified, utterly humiliated and so, you straighten up immediately and storm out, refusing to acknowledge the fact that Jungkook definitely caught you having fun.

Later that day, you’re rather surprised that Jungkook doesn’t mention it, acting like nothing unusual happened as he enters his bedroom, just like every evening. But this time, instead of shamelessly stripping off his clothes, he stares you down with a thoughtful gaze.

You just stare back, not the least bit bothered or scared, knowing he’ll, like always, be the one to break and talk first.

“Get dolled up, I’m taking you with me tonight.”

“Ugh, but I don’t wanna,” you groan, flopping down onto the bed, arms stretched out like the whole thing belongs to you. Images of your heat still flash through your mind sometimes, especially in moments like this when Jungkook stands all dominant at the foot of the bed.

He never touched you, even though you fucked yourself on him more in those few days than you ever did during past heats. Not that you haven’t had a partner before, but Jungkook’s body hits different, like his physique was made just for you.

“Don’t care. I’m not going to clubs without you anymore.”

That makes you sit up, a little confused, wondering why he wouldn’t want to go without you, like he’s your loyal boyfriend or something. Maybe you could use this as a chance to slip through his fingers. Play unwilling for a bit longer, and he might not suspect anything.

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“Ugh, you’re not my dad.”

His face hardens at that, but there’s no anger in his eyes, just a sadness you can’t quite place.

“Please get up and get changed, okay?”

Wow, Jungkook asking nicely? That’s a first.

“Fine,” you huff, getting up and pretending to be all sass and pouty as you disappear into the bathroom. But as soon as the door closes behind you, a bright smile spreads across your face.

It’s loud in here. So utterly, overwhelmingly loud, you think your eardrums might burst at any minute. Jungkook’s currently guiding you through the crowd, not dragging you by the wrist like usual, but with his fingers intertwined with yours, carefully making sure you can follow as the crowd parts for him.

You’re relieved when you finally make it to a private room. The noise is still there, but bearable now. You’re not the least bit anxious to see his usual group of friends, ones you’ve met a few times after the poker night. 

Jungkook sits down on a couch where Yoongi’s already perched, and there’s enough space for you to sit beside him, but, like always, Jungkook pulls you onto his lap, his big hands cradling your middle as if it’s necessary to show everyone that you’re his, which you reckon is not. 

Then again, you might take that back, because while everyone greets you warmly, Jungkook being ignored, which makes you giggle and him growl under his breath.

You didn’t expect clubbing with Jungkook to look like this–sitting in a private room with his friends, drinking quietly. There are no strippers or other women around, which makes you wonder why he even wanted you here in the first place.

The conversation between them is lively, but you don’t join in, not because it isn’t interesting, but because you don’t fully understand it. Jungkook’s fingers drawing soothing circles on your stomach and thighs don’t help either, as you sink deeper into his embrace, a light purr escaping you, you can’t seem to hold back due to the liquor coursing through your bloodstream. 

It’s when Namjoon calls your name for the second time that you snap back to attention.

“Pardon?”

“I was asking if there’s anything in this conversation that interests you.”

That’s your chance to mess with Jungkook, play on his instincts the way he played on yours earlier.

“Hmm,” you pretend to think, dragging it out. “Well, there’s something I’ve always wondered.”

The men around you seem intrigued, leaning forward like they can’t wait to hear what you have to say. Even Jungkook shifts slightly under you, tilting his head to get a better look at your face.

“I’ve always wondered if this really is triggering or not,” you say with a wicked grin. Taking a deep breath, you tip your head back for dramatic effect and let out a howl.

It’s nowhere near a real wolf’s howl–too high-pitched, too low–but you feel Jungkook tense underneath you, his fingers digging into your thighs, while the others barely hold back their laughter.

And then, it happens. Jungkook, unable to hold back any longer, throws his head back and howls with you. The room erupts in chaos, everyone laughing while you clutch your stomach, trying not to explode with laughter, as Jungkook howls uncontrollably.

You’re sure you hear other wolf hybrids answering his call from the dance floor, which only makes the laughter in the room louder.

When Jungkook finally finishes, he slumps back into the cushions, his eyes closed as if he regrets ever bringing you here.

“We’re leaving,” he mutters flatly, clearly annoyed.

“Why? We’re having so much fun. Aren’t you having fun, love?” you tease.

His eyes snap open, locking onto yours, and suddenly, you fall silent. 

He never looked at you like that, like you were someone else, no longer having the privileges you once took for granted.

You don’t waste time standing up, Jungkook following suit. You can’t bring yourself to meet anyone’s gaze, don’t  even dare to say goodbye as you’re led out of the room by your wrist, the noise of the club grating on your ears.

Halfway through the crowd, some spider hybrid yells over the music, “Yo Jungkook, nice bitch you got there!” Jungkook releases your wrist for a moment, just long enough to pull out his glock and shoot the hybrid dead with a clean headshot.

Screams erupt and bodies start shifting in panic, but Jungkook’s hand is back around your wrist in seconds, dragging you out of the club in silence.

Once in his car, with him buckling you up and settling into the driver’s seat, you don’t need to look at him to know how furious he is. He drives like a maniac, halving the time it took to get there.

Soon you’re back at the penthouse and still unsure how to handle the situation. Apologising seems pointless.

“Bedroom,” Jungkook growls, and though you only gave him a taste of his own medicine, you know you’ve crossed a line you now wish you hadn’t.

But your own anger begins to boil again. Not just because of your own humiliation, but because he won’t let you leave.

You follow a seething Jungkook, your footsteps quick and angry, and when you enter the bedroom right behind him, you slam the door shut with a loud bang.

Jungkook turns, hands on his hips. “How dare you humiliate me in public?”

“Oh, fuck off, Jungkook. You humiliated me first.”

“We were alone! And we both had fun!” He barks, raising his hands as if that somehow makes his argument stronger.

“And those were just your friends!”

“Friends?! I trusted you!”

“It wasn’t that bad! Stop exaggerating.” You roll your eyes and move to head into the bathroom, but Jungkook’s having none of it. He strides towards you and tosses you onto the bed.

Still bouncing from the force, you mock him. “What’re you gonna do now, hm?”

“I’d like to fucking teach you a lesson.”

Fine, let him. You push your legs up, pull off your underwear, and spread your legs, showing your cunt to him as if ready to just get over with it. But Jungkook doesn’t move. He doesn’t even look down—just stares straight into your eyes. His gaze as hurt and defeated as yours.

“Come on, fuck me! What are you waiting for?!”

Jungkook’s shoulders slump, his eyes drop briefly to the floor as he shakes his head. When he looks back at you, all the fight’s gone.

“I’m never going to fuck you like some bitch, kitten.” He sighs, then turns towards the door. “I’m taking the couch tonight.”

Today’s the day, you can feel it. You’ve been preparing for this for so long, playing the perfect little kitten Jungkook sees you as since your fight, that you’re sure he won’t suspect a thing. He’s been gone for two days now, leaving you alone at his penthouse with all his goons, but you don’t mind.

Honestly, it’s the best thing he could have done for you, so it’s now or never.

It’s just past midnight when you know that his guards and maids have gone to sleep, always leaving just Oliver behind. An ant hybrid, a rookie, who’s more incompetent in this world than you are, and that says a lot.

You reckon he’s fallen asleep in front of the CCTV screens, leaving you with an open door to freedom. Literally. 

Taking the elevator to the bottom floor isn’t an option, but the garage is the perfect place to start. You’ve scanned the cameras down there and covered the outside multiple times when Jungkook would often bring you with him, knowing where the possible blind spots might be.

And true to your assumptions, there’s no one you encounter—not a soul but your hurried footsteps echoing in the cold, wide parking lot.

You don’t really know how you’ll get hundreds of miles back home, but for now, you just need to get away. Ducking into the bushes right in front of the building, you try to make out how many goons are stationed by the entrance.

Spotting just two owl hybrids—which isn’t ideal but could be worse—you try to move silently through the bush, getting as close to the pavement as possible. Taking one more glance at the owls, you brace yourself to run, counting down in your head until you yank the leaves aside and sprint as fast as your feet can carry you across the street, into an alley you’d never normally go near.

At first, you’re not sure if you’re being followed, knowing that owl hybrids are far too quiet to hear, especially with your alarmingly fast heartbeat and panting drowning out all other noises. Still, you strain your cat ears, willing them to swivel backward, but again, there’s only silence.

You try to look behind you, but there’s no one—no one chasing after you—and it’s this distraction that makes you miss the rock in your path, your foot hitting it with a sharp thud as you roll over. You manage to stop the motion quickly, landing on one foot and your hands as you regain your balance and clarity.

It’s so odd that no one’s after you, especially when Jungkook’s such a possessive, obsessive freak. It doesn’t add up. It was just too easy.

Straightening up, you glance back down the alleyway where you came from. Still seeing no movement, you turn around—only to bump into a hard chest.

“Miss me?”

You try to turn and run again, but it’s no use. Jungkook is so much faster and stronger than you, reaching you in barely three steps.

“Let go of me!”

You thrash against his hold as if it would make any difference, but it doesn’t. He throws you over his shoulder like a doll and starts walking leisurely back to the building, as if it’s just another day.

“No can do, kitten.”

“Jungkook, I swear to god, put me the fuck down!”

You try to kick him in the stomach, but he just restrains your feet with his free hand. So hitting his back it is—but who are you kidding? It’s more of a massage for him than a beating.

“Or what?” Jungkook snickers, and you see red.

“Or I’ll beat the shit out of you!”

That makes him belt out a laugh you’ve never heard from him before—high-pitched and so beautiful that you’d fall in love with him in any other situation but this. His laughter is so intense that you bob uncontrollably on his shoulder, and there’s really nothing you can do but pout angrily, accepting defeat.

“I fucking hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, I fucking loathe you.”

Jungkook just keeps snickering, snickering as he enters the building with everyone watching, snickering as he enters the elevator, nearly hitting your head on the closing doors, and snickering when he finally reaches his bedroom and gently sets you down.

However, his snickering stops when he sees your thunderous face, rage dripping from your eyes as your claws protrude over your crossed arms.

“I want to go home.”

“There’s no other home now but this one. Accept it.”

“Why don’t you just mark me and control me?! Huh?!”

“Because I know I don’t need to.”

But you see it differently and so you scream with all your might “Fucking let me leave, Jungkook!”

“No.”

At that, you charge at him, grabbing his throat and shoving him against the wall. You can’t keep living like this. You just can’t, not when your family and friends are desperately waiting for you to come back.

Jungkook doesn’t fight back, doesn’t defend himself. He just lets you strangle him, his arms hanging limp at his sides, eyes reddening from the pressure but still pleading for you to stop. It throws you for a loop because, frankly, his eyes—always soft, always showing every emotion he feels—have never betrayed his true intentions.

“Please don’t poison your soul by killing someone,” he croaks out, and that’s all it takes for you to push yourself away from him as if burnt.

Jungkook bends over, violent coughs escaping his reddened throat. You feel guilty, disgusted at what you’ve become, and you fear he’s changed you forever.

You collapse to your knees, utterly helpless as you try not to hyperventilate from the adrenaline.

“I’m sorry.” Jungkook, by now recovered but with a hoarse voice, kneels in front of you, taking your trembling hands and running his thumbs over your knuckles. “I truly am.”

“For what?”

You turn your head upwards to look at him, to see if he’s telling the truth. You’re sure he is, because the hurt in his eyes mirrors your own.

“Because even if I gave you the world, I couldn’t let you go back to that joke of a family.”

“What?” The word leaves your lips in a breath, confusion growing with every second as Jungkook’s eyes turn more livid.

“You got kidnapped because your parents sold you off, kitten.”

“No…” You pull your hands from his, crawling backwards as if to escape the truth—the truth written all over his face. “You’re lying.”

“I wish I were, kitten.”

You wish he were too. 

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • masterlist • 6

a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like!

a/n 4: taglist is sadly closed

Check out my other work here!

All Rights Reserved © @/runariya 2024

taglist: @jksusawife, @kookiewithluv, @justjkkkkk, @staytinyville, @jaiuneamesolitaiire , @ericawantstoescape , @mjuser, @sp1derk0ok , @fluttershyvanilla, @lachimolalajeon , @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @llallaaa , @m00njinnie , @passionandsuga , @scuzmunkie , @lerasi , @11thenightwemet11 , @bts-ruu , @metalheadfangirl2001 , @unadulteratedwitcher , @qmsvpx, @minghaosimp, @kittycatkrissa, @weareatthebadlands, @fluttershy-vanilla, @bangtannie7

[kachowden]

hiii i love your writing so much and i’ve been deprived of jessie so my brain keeps feeding me scenarios that i desperately need you to write FOR INSTANCE: jessie using his special android abilities to spy on darling (like hacking home security, their cellphone, fun stuff <3) and maybe he sees darling in some.. compromising positions, either with other people or on their own.. idk i just need more of him please i’ll take crumbs

Yandere Android x Reader <3

Tw: Stalking, Generally creepy behavior, NSFW themes, Masturbation, Jessie is a freak, Happy Valentines Day

<>. <3 .<>

It was a slow day, even by Jessie’s standards. In a fit of anxious motivation the night before, Jessie had finished a months worth of calculations for the company and was now left with nothing to do.

Especially since his favorite worker wasn’t present today.

You had been given a paid day off due to covering for 4 other workers during the holidays.

“I need the extra pay for my cat. His allergies are acting up again.”

He was happy your work got recognized, he just wished it had been another bonus. Or maybe a day in the rest lounge. Not at the apartments. Away from him. Physically anyway.

Though he’s sure you knew he would’ve given you a bonus regardless of you actually getting any work done.

Doing a quick scan of the days schedule, noting happily, though with less enthusiasm than usual, that he had no meetings today. Which meant no interruptions and no visits to his office.

Privacy.

And of course with that privacy he’d partake in his favorite past time, typically only during weekends.

Watching you from the comfort of his monitors.

Every apartment building has a series of cameras, that only few humans were aware of. Mostly as a way of monitoring the behaviors of coworkers and looking for signs of poor mental health.

If a worker showed signs of poor health, mental or physical, they were automatically removed from the schedule until they recovered or were deemed fit enough to come back and not hinder work.

Of course if the worker decided, they could resign from coming back completely.

He feared the day that ever happened to you though. He didn’t think he would last long without you in the building. He barely lasted the weekends as it was.

That wasn’t important right now though.

Right now he just needed some B75 TLC time.

1-4-3-7

With ease he typed in the memorized address and dorm number of your apartment complex. It was as easy as doing software scans, given how often he checked in on you.

All with your health in mind of course.

Clicking through the few firewalls he smiled anxiously when the screen showed Cam 1. Your living room.

It was hard not to zoom in on various items in your home, even if he had seen them dozens of times before. And memorized their exact location.

Not that was hard for him to do.

A few portraits. A single Vase with wilted flowers from a promotion party months ago.

A cat bed where your- lovely- hairless cat layed, glaring at where the camera was despite Jessie knowing for fact it couldn’t see it.

It didn’t remove any of the chill that permeated his synthetic skin.

His switched to Cam 3, your home office. The camera was already zoomed in from a previous- visit, and as he slowly zoomed out he paused briefly. Those weren’t what he thought they were right? He knew they were yours. Of course he did.

But why was your underwear on the floor??

His synthetic skin was burned a deep cerulean blue. You weren’t a messy person by any means. And typically any article of clothes he was lucky to find was typically in your bedroom. Where there was no camera.

With shakey hands, he fooled himself into believing it was a glitch, and finished zooming out.

Jessie’s voice box glitched when he choked.

There you were, his precious, hardworking, diligent worker, leaning back in your desk chair doing-

“Ah..fucken hell..”

He forgot there were speakers.

Scrambling to plug himself into the monitor his ears flooded with the sounds of you playing with yourself.

Every lewd, beautiful sound registering and imprinting itself onto his hard drive.

The blue of his senors glowed and blinked warnling. Various pop ups appearing in his vision, warning his system that he was overheating, though he merely pushed them away, his eyes entirely unblinking as he stared at the screen.

He felt dirty. Disrespectful in a way.

But he had never felt more alive either.

And god he could not look away. All his sensors were tuned in. He couldn’t hear, or see anything but you.

The only motors that were functioning anymore were his fans and arms. Which was proven when he felt a new pressure on his-lower half and his eyes snapped down to register his hand palming against his office issued jeans.

A loud whirring sound filled the room as his fans tirelessly worked to keep the android from malfunctioning.

His artificial eyes dilating non stop before he leaned back in his large directors chair, hands finally moving to unbuckle his jeans.

A glitched moan poured from the bots lips as he carefully stroked his already unbearably hard cock.

The logistics of an android having a functioning dick was unimportant at this specific time.

Jessie watched in morbid fascination as you fucked yourself to your computer screen. He couldn’t entirely make out what you were watching, but the faint blue glow on one of the individuals was unmistakable

Holy fuck were you watching android porn?

I mean yeah androids practically dominated the industry but you had made your stance on bots very clear. Yet here you were, touching yourself to a video of- was one of those his model??

“Fuck Y/n…” The whine that poured out would’ve been embarrassing if not for his already melted shame.

His receptors took in every detail he could while his hand satiated his growing need.

God he picture it so perfectly.

Your thighs cupped perfectly in his hands, his sensors taking in the softness of your skin, taking in the heat of your very alive being. Feeling you bounce on his cock- fuck or even fucking him against his desk instead.

He gasped and moaned lewdly at what his eyes began projecting in-front of him. You looked so fucken pretty. And you’d feel so fucking good too.

The new upgrade he got would come in handy.

His hand grew quick, timing his release with your own, just to feel a little closer as one of his hands frantically shuffled through a desk drawer, yanking out a coffee stained uniform shirt. your coffee stained uniform shirt specially.

Jessie shakinly held the fabric up to his nose, inhaling deeply with a gargled moan and hunched back. His hips rutting up into his hand once he threw himself back in the chair.

Fuck he was so close- if you just-

“Mm fuck-!”

He cried out when you finally finished, relishing in your labored breaths, his own glowing release staining the mahogany desk and floor.

He panted with no breath, fans on overdrive as he tried to calm himself down, quickly plugging himself into a nearby adapter to reset and power off.

His energy sources were horrifically depleted. He needed to rest.

“I’ll clean up tomorrow…when Y/- B75 comes back….”

Famous last words moment

[cheolsfriend]

Dahlia Secrets!

—> A series of “secrets” (weird/crack headcannons) about people from all over Dahlia.

Note: These are just for shits and giggles so yeah, most are unrealistic 💀

—

Secret #1:

If you stand next to David Shaw himself, you’ll automatically have full bar wifi.

Secret #2:

Angel could power a car with their voice.

Secret #3:

Milo Greer has a slightly overly bright political smile.

Secret #4:

Sweetheart had a slight fear of dicks before. They got scared the first time they saw one in person.

Secret #5:

Damien likes slightly overpriced lemonade on a hot summer day.

Secret #6:

Darlin’ has fought a faulty vending machine and won(???).

Secret #7:

Lasko Moore has a coffee cup with “STUDENT’S TEARS” written on it.

Secret #8:

Aaron has one existential crisis per morning.

Secret #9:

19 years old Babe has used a Nestle Café Blend 43 jar to defend themself from an aggressive car thief.

Secret #10:

Gavin had swallowed a total of 10 UNO cards to win an UNO game.

Secret #11:

10 years old Ollie thought he was gonna die while being constipated on a public toilet.

Secret #12:

Babe used to sleep at 8:30 PM.

Secret #13:

Huxley is a little terrified of boredom.

Secret #14:

Caelum makes a serious and focused yet teary face whenever he stubs his toe.

Secret #15:

Sam has a rivalry with bumblebees.

Secret #16:

A small part of the reasons why Vincent is well-respected in the clan is because he’s got dirt on everyone.

Secret #17:

Lovely apologizes to inanimate objects.

Secret #18:

David contributes absolutely nothing in online group chats.

Secret: #19:

Smartass bites into ice cream.

Secret #20:

Angel says internet slangs in verbal conversations.

Secret #21:

Darlin’ has a gun up their ass at all times.

Secret #22:

Milo sometimes starts online fights for entertainment purposes.

Secret #23:

¾ of Freelancer’s gallery is memeable pics of the DAMN squad.

Secret #24:

Lasko’s storage is on life support.

Secret #25:

Damien’s contact name in Gavin’s phone is “Portable AC”.

Secret #26:

The ONE time Huxley accidentally smacks Angel as a joke, Angel slid 6ft across the floor.

Secret #27:

After David’s multiple meetings with Angel, David had a slight urge to officially and permanently ban Angel off the Shaw Pack territory.

Secret #28:

Lovely reminds Darlin’ of Angel.

Secret #29:

(Ollie) Baby’s credit card was in debt, TWICE.

Secret #30:

For some ungodly reason, Vincent has 20k pics in his phone.

Secret #31:

Sam’s pupils goes opposite directions of each other whenever he spaces out.

Secret #32:

Asher once found a king sized condom in Babe’s nightstand drawer before they started dating.

Secret #33:

Milo used the ‘macarena dance’ to seduce Sweetheart. (It worked)

Secret #34:

Aaron watches Gilmore Girls religiously.

Secret #35:

Gregory once slipped in the shower and tried to grab the water.

Secret #36:

Christian wins fake arguments with himself in the shower.

Secret #37:

Arden cheated once in Poker.

Secret #36:

Ollie dislikes Zoom.

Secret #37:

Smartass and Milo was a leash kid.

Secret #38:

Babe can twerk, jsyk.

Secret #39:

Freelancer saw the price tag of Xavier’s shirt behind his neck after their talk.

Secret #40:

8 years old David used his bedroom door to get rid of his wobbly tooth.

Secret #41:

Sweetheart once smelled a really nasty cologne on Angel and never said anything about it.

Secret #42:

Freelancer finds Gavin’s smirk expression absolutely attractive.

Secret #43:

Huxley took a whole year of figure skating class and graduated.

Secret #44:

Despite cat-lover tendency, Lasko was slightly scared of cats.

Secret #45:

Starlight once got locked inside Avior’s bathroom.

Secret #46:

Both Darlin’ and Angel has a separate photo album full of blackmail.

Angel collects blackmail from the mates, Darlin’ collects blackmail from the wolves.

Secret #47:

Darlin’ genuinely finds Quinn ugly.

Secret #48:

Avior has a separate mug full of fountain pens.

Secret #49:

Milo had braces.

Secret #50:

Out of all the Shaw Pack mates and werewolves, Babe was the first one to get their drivers license in their teen years.

Secret #51:

Damien once caught Huxley at an adult store in a mall.

Secret #52:

Ollie and Aaron are the same height, Aaron just wears shoes with higher soles.

Secret #53:

Gregory’s actual first impression of David was “mini Gabe”.

Secret #54:

Babe has worked at Home Depot.

Secret #55:

David had ONE sticker on his fossil-aged laptop. And it’s a Hello Kitty sticker.

Secret #56:

Sweetheart almost lost Milo’s phone, TWICE.

Secret #57:

Smartass is banned from a fast food restaurant.

Secret #58:

Despite being lost from David multiple times at the airport, Angel is really good with airport check-ins.

Secret #59:

Caelum has a good sense of hearing.

Secret #60:

Freelancer wears a ring on their ring finger for shits and giggles.

Secret #61:

David knows the scientific name for how a bug sleeps.

Secret #62:

Angel casually uses scientific terms in conversations.

Secret #63:

Law student Babe uses the things they learned in law school to win arguments.

Secret #64:

Lovely could take over the world but ‼️responsibilities‼️ :(

Secret #65:

Sam doesn’t like road trips with Vincent because he’s forced to sit on small middle seat on the three-seater at the back.

Secret #66:

Christian throws more shade than balls.

Secret #67:

A question Angel asked right before sex almost lead to them and David breaking up.

Secret #68:

Lasko minds his business but knows all the tea.

Secret #69:

Sam’s a vampire yes. But instead of garlic, it’s seafood.

Secret #70:

Milo sat on Aggro multiple times.

Secret #71:

Angel calls laundry detergent ‘laundry sauce’.

—

[thebrownsinasia]

First stop Thailand

Dear reader.... yes you,

Let me start by telling our story, the start of what lead us to embarking on this new journey. As we watched the last few years zooming by we felt like we could almost see how the next 10 years would go. Both of us lucky enough to have loving families and friends, a house, life was happy but we craved something more. We wanted to show Finn and Leo how to problem solve life, distance them from social media pressures, learn about the world around them and to spend as much time with them as we could.  So we decided to be brave, trust in ourselves and make this a reality. Life is short, go after it, take a risk and watch the beauty unfold. 

We had made it, successfully sold our belongings, said our sad goodbyes,  squeezed all our things into 2 suitcases and set off to Thailand. We had a long 12 hour flight to Bangkok and when we landed we all were well and truly ready for our beds. We loved our airbnb apartment and appreciated the pool in this heat!

Leo especially loved walking across the road to the food market to get his morning fruit and the whole hustle and bustle of a big city. Lots of interesting smells, taste's and so much to see and do. While we were there we checked out a swimming park on the top level of a shopping mall, Caturday ( a cat cafe) weekend market, carp restaurant and the Big Buddha. The boys experienced their first Thai massage, Leo's new favourite activity, a foot massage. 

After 5 days in Bangkok it was time to make our way to Koh Pha-ngan to meet our friends on Bottle Beach. We had to fly to Surrat Thani - 1.5 hour bus ride to ferry terminal - 2 hour ferry to Koh Phang nan then a bumpy 40 min drive in a 4x4 off road truck to Bottle Beach. 

Arriving back to bottle beach after 11 years was such a special moment, it still looked the same, the sound of the jungle humming in the background reminded me just how remote you are there. We followed the path up to our bungalow and were greeted by our friend Geoff. It was so good to see him after all this time and to be introducing the boys to him. Our bungalow itself was very basic, cold showers and mosquito nets with holes in them, nothing a good bit of duck tape cant fix, but it felt like home, being back to our happy place of what we call paradise. Over the next 4 weeks we had lots of different friends arriving from who we meet on this beach 12 years ago, it was like time hadn't passed. Backgammon is a game played a lot at Smile bungalows and Leo enjoyed challenging Geoff to his daily battles. Ben helped the boys with their Chess skills and lots of card games were played. Days spent swimming, playing with other kids visiting the bay, hanging out at Geoffs coffee bar and eating! Bottle beach is such a magical place, we aim to meet everybody back their next year.

We caught the ferry over to Koh Samui and stayed in a 2 bedroom apartment. While nice inside the late night barking of street dogs was too much! We hang out in Lamai for 2 weeks and the boys trained Jiu jitsu at Koh Fight under Coach Leonardo. We enjoyed swimming in our shared pool during the day, the 711 iced coffees and eating at the local night markets. Fruit shakes, coconut ice cream with mango, massaman curries and pad thai's. The local restaurant with kittens, Oreo and Kitkat became our regular place to go for dinner. During our time on Samui we saw an amazing cobra show, did outdoor fishing, snorkelling day out to Pig island and enjoyed driving around on a scooter, even managed to fit 4 of us on one! Three weeks was spent on Samui before we headed to Krabi for 4 days before our flight. 

Krabi we stayed out from the main town and were surrounded by big beautiful mountains. I had a private scooter lessons and we spent our time there just chilling by the pool.

We had spent the last 2 months in Thailand and it was time to leave, we were all feeling a little sad but excited to arrive to our next destination.... Malaysia.

[slashingdisneypasta]

*rubs hands together* let's do this...

1. I know giving Freddy TOO much attention will backfire, so I won't aggressively eat the popsicle. I'll just... Eat it like normal. If he tries to make it dirty, I'll call mama Pam for help and he can deal with hers and Jason's wraths XD

2. Find a replacement. She ain't getting my friend, but I got some people in mind I'd feed hef..her...

3. SWEET JESUS BUBBA NO- I'll take on this chore, you SIT DOWN. I can hopefully charm/distract Audrey by telling them how much I love their singing voice (it wouldn't be a lie so that makes it better-). Though I may need Bubba's chainsaw if things go south...

4. I... Oh crap neither option is good XD um... You know what? I'm too tired, I don't want Freddy or Chucky or whoever the Frick else to harass me in the living room. I'll just scream at Patrick to shut up through the wall of my bedroom and possibly bang on it to get the message across... Then lock the door and text Jennifer or Tiffany I may need backup XD (NOT Carrie. She has her powers, but I will not let that innocent soul be anywhere NEAR Patrick)

5. Honestly, I can actually be pretty damn sneaky and quiet, even when I don't mean to (I don't know how!!! It just happens! I legit sneak up on people by simply trying to walk past them for heavens sake!). So I'll take my chances with Jason and Micheal.

6. I can't remember, is this Learherfaces brother Drayton? Or a different Drayton? If the former, I'll go with him since he seems like we both have the same want: to be left alone. If it's the latter, I'll go with Beetlejuice since I'm more familiar with him.

7. Again, I can sneak around people without them noticing. I'll risk it, and if they try to drag me in it I'll just tell them its not my fight or I have some other obligation and convince someone to be my alibi if they try to ask.

8. I don't care if she's throwing a chainsaw around. I WILL offer the cinnamon roll comfort. Even if I have to yell from a distance (I'll grab Freddy or Chucky as a meat shield if all else fails)

9. Oh hell no, Chucky you are GETTING THE BOOT. I don't care if i face Tiffany's wrath, nobody is going to pick on Carrie on my watch.

10. Oooooh shit, I can already feel the parental judgment... Screw it. I'm telling Pam. If I come clean, hopefully that'll at least put me on her good side. And even if it doesn't, Maternal reprimands is SOOO much better than facing whatever Freddy anyday.

11. I'm pretty sure their truths would either be horror related or some juvenile crap like "Who was your first kiss?" Or something. So I'll take truth.

12. I'm not familiar with Jerry, but if this is Patrick Bateman and not another Patrick, I'll pick him. I wouldn't be able to handle Patrick insulting me while 'helping' me.

13. Freddy. Jason was probably going to put him through a wall eventually to meet his quota, now he's got motivation. Bonus points is that I get to watch Freddy's "Oh shit" face and try to deny he ever did XD

Hey!! Oh wowwww, I love your answers XDDD

Haha, excellent plan B! XD I love how everyones go-to for when Freddy's being a hindrance is go get the Voorhees'. Like he's their badly behaved pet. Like GUYS. YOUR CAT"S RIPPING UP THE FURNITURE AGAIN, and they come in with the spray bottle (holy water, of course).

More sacrifices, good!

I'm so happy Bubba can be safe and relaxed but STAY SAFE YOURSELF!!! Here, take the Voorhees' badly behaved pet with you for a shield. (Also I love Audrey's voice too, I listen to those songs quiteee a bit)

Solid plan- just lock the door FIRST thing instead, so Patrick doesn't do a zoom of fury and get there before you can!! XD

Goodluck!! ^^

This is Leatherface brother Drayton ^^ I agree, too!

I'll be your alibi! Yes Officer, we were playing scrabble all night long so she couldn't have- oops wrong alibi.

!! Yes ^^ We are on the same page, here. Chucky wouldn't be a very good shield though, he is very small. Freddy would be okay, but he's still kinda small for comfort for shield standards. Have MICHAEL. dont worry, he has a very long history of being fine in the end and lots of referalls.

9. Chucky and Carrie again!! Very good choices!! XD Hey, if we go by your au that Tiffany becomes basically Carries mother- she'll probably help you! XDDD

10. Good news!! Pam forgives you, and basically takes you into the family. You can have playdates with Jason, now! XD

11. Here is your truth, straight from the minds of Billy and Stu!!: You get to go back in time to see Who Framed Roger Rabbit in theatre on its opening night!- but you have to take and sit next to Glenda in a murder mood the entire movie. Do you go??

12. Oh yessss same. Jerry's compliments may come from a place of hunger, but that's still nicer to deal with then Patrick 😅

13. I love this whole paragraph XDD 'to meet his quota', 'now he's got motivation', 'Freddy's "oh shit" face'.

Thank you so much for participating and sending in your great answers!! I hope you had fun thinking of them! ^^ XD

[imdoingwhateverisnext]

My Son's Cat, Bryan

When I bought the house, I was excited to see that it had a cat/small dog door already installed. My 4 year old son wanted a cat. So we got a kitten. I let Landon name him, he named him Bryan. I thought it was odd, but whatever. Bryan was a long haired Grey/blue Persian tabby mix. He was adorably cute and sweet, he had grey eyes. He was so soft, petting him was therapeutic.

I worked night shift at the hospital, so I would come home, run, do a few chores and then sleep until afternoon. My son would stay with family when I was working 2 or 3 in a row.

I woke up at noon to what I thought was a dream. I dreamed a bird was fluttering around me. I kept hearing squeaking and fluttering, and I was cross-eyed and had only been asleep about 2 hours since my shift last night. I just continued to lie there quietly with my eyes closed and try to go back to sleep, then I heard a loud fluttering right above my head zooming around. I opened my eyes to a bird flying around my living room. It was at the ceiling, then it would dive bomb near my head, then other areas of the room. It was all over the place.

I learned something really important that day. I have a phobia of things flying towards my head (except for bats, they have no beaks to peck my eyes out). I stood, then it would fly towards me, and I would collapse into the carpet with my hands over my head. I ran from my home. I stood with the door open, hoping he would fly out on his own. He did not.

I called my dad (the legend) and he came over to save the day as usual. He did the smartest thing, and why I didn't think about it, I don't know. He threw a blanket over it as it flew by and collected the blanket and freed it outside. It was probably easier for him since he is tall and can nearly reach the ceiling. I don't believe he said more than 5 words to me that day, but I didn't care.

I did not know how the bird had gotten inside. My cat was a wanderer. He was not inside during the fiasco or I am sure he would have been participating. It was strange.

One day I came home and my house was covered in feathers. Heavy in my bedroom. There was blood spatter on the walls, there was blood spatter on the ceilings. It looked like a crime scene. Again, no Bryan.

After serious crime scene analysis, I deduced that Bryan was bringing these birds inside the house through the cat door and releasing them. What his rationale was, I have no idea. Was he bringing me gifts? Was he a psycho who wanted to play with and torture his victims on his turf before killing them? A place in which there was no chance for escape?

What kind of monster was I sharing my home with?

NEEDS EDIT AND MORE WORDS PROBABLY NEEDS TO BE REARRANGED SOME FOR BETTER FLOW

[feelingofcontent]

DNP Rewatch: A Festive Day in the Life of Dan and Phil!

Date video was published: 12/20/2014 (X)

DNP Main Channel Rewatch: 254

The 2014 DITL video! The last one had been back in August 2013. This is my absolute favorite DITL and probably one of my top five DNP joint videos of all time. Get ready for me to have way too much to say about it.

0:00 - sleepy morning + quiff Phil! We’ll see a surprising amount of that in this video.

0:05 - “almost a week till Christmas,” so they must have filmed this just a few days before it was posted

0:25 - no waking up Dan in “his” bedroom like in the first two DITL. Hmmm...this scene doesn’t seem staged at all...especially since Phil’s laptop is already open on the arm of the sofa. Unless he just left it like that overnight.

0:37 - love that the other advent calendar on the mantle in the one they made. 😂 There are 18 of the doors opened on it, so they’re probably filming this on the the 18th or 19th of December.

0:47 - they both jump into doing the theme music as soon as Phil says “titan”

0:57 - that is pretty late for them to be putting up the decorations! Phil looks sad about it too.

1:01 - sad tinsel. I think Phil had the silver piece in the background in his last video. And the little WALLE in the background here, from all the way back in PINOF. 🥺

1:17 - this domestic insight, just 😭😭😭

1:26 - full circle back to the first DITL video. I wonder if they watched the previous DITLs before filming this one.

1:41 - so many mugs.

1:48 - Dan did not want that one because it was very hard to actually drink out of as he discovered in DITL London. I really bet they did watch the previous ones shortly before this...so many references back!

1:55 - awww, happy warm Phil

2:13 - such a dramatic sigh but he goes to get it anyway!

2:25 - well that is a terrifying way to burn a tealight...put it on a dish!

2:33 - I love that there is no explanation for this in the video. Phil is superstitious about new shoes on the table, which they had both tweeted about before.

2:40 - Dan fashion show and an encouraging Phil

2:47 - immediate smile when Dan notices Phil there

2:56 - why does Phil looks SO GOOD in this clip. also, as usual a weird/slightly horrifying poem from his brain.

3:02 - love that they both decided to wear holiday jumpers. They also wore these same ones for their December radio show. Also the Dan lean-in 🥺

3:12 - PJ tweeted about this DNP visit!

3:27 - this whole leaving scene is possibly the most domestic part of any video - the candle argument, the coat adjustment, the stop in the bathroom to check their hair, Phil checking to make sure Dan has keys, the spider checking and joking... I mean.

4:13 - more throwback conversation to DITL London

4:35 - so glad he chose not to lick his hand. Even more horrifying in 2021.

4:40 - Dan talked about this and falling up the escalator in What not to do on Public Transport

5:00 - “bit corporate isn’t it?” but caves immediately because Phil wants to. 

5:10 -  Love that Phil orders while Dan finds a table. Love that Phil makes Dan draw something happy not just a sad face. Love Dan’s huge smile after that.

5:33 - Dan really can’t say much he was reading his phone in the clip right before this!

5:58 - Dan’s talking about this weird incident that Phil posted a clip of on LessAmazingPhil

6:18 - they always go to at least one nerdy shop in the first DITLs!

6:36 - the things they choose to zoom in on in this shop...Dan with Spiderman’s crotch a few seconds before this and now Phil on the shirtless guy book cover. subtle, lol.

7:29 - I had actually heard of this board game prior to this video because Wil Wheaton did a TableTop episode. I remember being so surprised to see DNP wanting it!

7:39 - Phil and his weird people encounters. 😂 And Dan just mocking him for it.

7:59 - they did, in fact, go to see Matilda the next summer.

8:10 - oh my god this clock scene. Of course Phil wants to make a game of it. And then Dan with the seemingly slight fudging of what he was pointing at. And this look and then both of them giggling. 👀

8:32 - that start of Dan’s running! This is around the time or shortly after he had started to see a therapist (according to the timeline he gave in Daniel and Depression), so thinking he probably wanted to start for his mental health.

9:11 - Dan talks about the “guy wearing the white sheet in Manchester” in What not to do In Town. Their reminiscing faces are too much.

9:19 - Phil is so excited about this. He had tweeted a couple times in the past about Moomins (1, 2)

9:37 - the excitement about the treats and the festive drinks and decorations and Phil’s teasing 😭

10:04 - they film fairly often in the back of cars and I just feel like must be so awkward, but it doesn’t seem to bother them. And Phil’s hair is quiffed again!

10:28 - and the stairs song! Which they are too prepared for so it must be a regular thing they say/sing. This video has SO MANY moments that I love.

10:51 - Phil just sitting while Dan hauls the tree box out. Maybe Dan lost rock-paper-scissors.

10:59 - reminiscing about THE TREE now, which is the last time they decorated on camera

11:09 - why is this a common theme in DITLs!? lol. Love that they’ve lit the candle again after getting home.

11:22 - “stop doing that” as he can’t control his giggles. sure.

12:03 - okay, Phil had to go get the other decorations! The “Christmas faces” are slightly horrifying

12:22 - that is the most horrifying. also, Dan and Phil themed toys/decor even in the bathroom.

13:02 - Dan’s little messed up piece of hair in the back is so cute. Also love that they have the garlands up and everything at this point too.

13:19 - even more quiff-Phil!

13:31 - their fridge contents are not great

14:04 - unexpected filming but a huge grin anyway from Phil. Also, how do they make just answering the door so awkward, lol. Also: what is that picture in the background in the bathroom(?)

14:32 - they’re so excited about this set up and dinner plan

14:43 - and now glasses Phil! Also, arguing about wrapping neatness. I love it. Although when we see Phil’s wrapping in a minute, I think I might agree with Dan...

15:03 - PJ will end up with one of these face banks

15:10 - Phil came up with some decent gifts for Kath this time, although he didn’t think she had good ideas.

15:18 - I find it so cute that Dan wants to keep the cookbook

15:30 - Dan looks almost embarrassed to share this. He’s also got something “12 Days of Christmas” themed in that blue box on the chair. Although apparently a lot of his family just wanted money.

15:37 - I have no words for Dan filming this closeup and then them choosing to keep it in the video.

16:16 - Phil’s trying to be all serious with his wrapping tutorial and then the tape just immediately falls. 😂

16:40 - “it’s endearing” Dan does look pretty endeared, lol. Dan’s concerned because the face banks are actually gifts from both of them, at least according to PJ

17:04 - wow, Vine mention

17:25 - Dan’s just expecting Phil to come up with a great pun on the spot. Also, the lobster thing is an old reference.

17:39 - I think I mentioned this in the last DITL post, but I like that we do see even in a short video that they spend some time alone. That’s just so normal, especially for introverts even when you’re that comfortable with someone.

17:45 - Phil will keep reading that book over the holidays

17:48 - we did see the inside of the chest. So what is Dan implying here, lol.

17:52 - well then. Dan’s giggly face though.

18:08 - soft piano Dan 😭

18:25 - Ariana Grande had sent them both cat ears after they met her for the radio show

18:37 - a glimpse at the early gaming channel set-up.

18:46 - we don’t actually see that footage in the gaming video

18:51 - it must be pretty late at night by this point considering it was dark when they came home 

19:15 - Phil’s first instinct is to throw it of course

19:18 - this face and the sweater paws. I can’t. 😭

19:25 - and of course a joint ending. 

19:40 - Dan is so sleepy and happy seeming here

20:13 - awwww 🥺 The last video of 2014!

One difference from the first two DITL is they don’t even pretend that they’re going to see other friends/invite someone over. Just the two of them hanging out and they seem quite happy with that. This is probably the most “domestic” of the DITL videos. I love it so much.

Phil went to his parents’ on the 23rd to celebrate Christmas. He had Swedish food, was very excited as usual, got a stocking with a toothbrush and animal socks, and watched Guardians of the Galaxy. Dan went to his family’s on the evening of the 24th after a candle incident (lol, though I love that he was burning the candles even without Phil there. He started the tradition of yearly Christmas pictures of Colin. And also posted this.

On to the 2015 videos, and the start of the TABINOF/TATINOF era!

[freddyfreebat]

Jack Dylan Grazer Discovers Who He Is in Luca Guadagnino's “We Are Who We Are”

After supporting roles in the It and Shazam!, the young actor shifts gears with his turn as a capricious army brat in the Call Me By Your Name director's new HBO series.

by Iana Murray / Photography by Nik Antonio  —  September 14, 2020

A few years ago, Jack Dylan Grazer took a trip to the movie theater. He was in Toronto and it was one of his days off from filming Shazam!, the DC comedy in which he plays the shape-shifting hero’s foster brother. He decided to watch Call Me By Your Name, and he immediately fell for it. Grazer took note of the director’s name that appeared in the credits—Luca Guadagnino—and turned to his mother.

“I want to work with him,” he told her. With eerie prescience, she assured him: “You will.”

Whether Grazer, now 17, has a knack for manifestation, or it was all just happenstance, his wish came true in the form of We Are Who We Are, Guadagnino’s coming of age drama which follows a group of army brats living on an American military base in Italy. Thematically, the show is something of a spiritual successor to Call Me By Your Name: Grazer plays Fraser, a tempestuous 14-year-old with a pair of headphones constantly plugged in his ears. He’s the new arrival at the base with his mothers (Chloë Sevigny and Alice Braga), and quickly forms a deep bond with his neighbour, Caitlin (Jordan Kristine Seamon), as they both wrestle with their sexuality and identity in the midst of domestic troubles and teenage debauchery.

“He’s an enigma to himself,” Grazer says of his character. “He doesn’t really understand a lot of the things he does but he’s so forthright so he convinces himself that he knows everything. He feels like other people don’t deserve his intelligence. But he’s also very volatile and aggressive at times, and not because he’s coming from an angry place but because he’s constantly questioning who he is.”

If Fraser is just beginning his coming of age when we first meet him, Grazer is inching closer to the end. Starring in enormous blockbusters including IT, he became the Loser Club’s resident hypochondriac at age 12 and a superhero’s sidekick by 15. His films have grossed a combined total of over $1.5 billion. Suddenly the stakes are multiplied tenfold during what are ostensibly, and horrifyingly, the most awkward years of your life. Every misstep is now being monitored, examined through a microscope of millions. (See: His 3.8 million fans on Instagram, to say nothing of the countless stan accounts.) Child fame is a disarming transaction like that: a stable career and all the other perks of being a celebrity, but at the cost of normalcy. That unalleviating pressure forces a kid to mature fast.

Grazer is acutely aware of this fact, admitting outright that he’s “not a normal person.” But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I became 70 when I was 7!” he laughs. “I don’t know if I really had much of a childhood. But I didn’t want to. I wanted to grow up really fast.”

Nevertheless, he’s still 17. When we meet over Zoom, his shoulder length curls are damp and disheveled (he just got out of the shower), his black painted fingernails contrast with his brightly-lit, white bedroom as he rests his face on his hand. It’s a Saturday morning and he looks tired: It’s his first week back at school, which has traded classrooms for hours of video calls reminiscent of the one we’re currently on. “It feels like the days are shorter because the teachers don’t want to torture their students by keeping them on a computer for six hours a day,” he tells me. “You do miss the social aspect of being at school.”

If you were to judge Grazer by what’s out there on the internet, you’d expect an anarchic and relentless bundle of energy. A quick YouTube search brings up results like “jack dylan grazer being a drama queen” and “jack dylan grazer being chaotic in interviews for 4 and a half minutes straight.” He trolled a YouTube gamer on Instagram Live. His TikToks are inscrutable.

But here, he’s incredibly earnest, as he excitedly talks about his skateboarding hobby (a skill he picked up after auditioning for Mid90s) and his attempts to learn the flute (“I need to learn how to read sheet music, but it’s like reading Hebrew!”). He’s calm and thoughtful, as if this project we’re discussing requires a shift in sensibility.

For Grazer, acting had always simply been fun. While other kids might take up a sport or get hooked on video games, he performed in musical theater with the Adderley School because he “just wanted to play.” His roles so far have been reflective of his carefree approach to the job: Up until now, he’s portrayed best friends with biting one-liners, or the younger version of the protagonist in a flashback. IT is a prime example of both. In the horror franchise, Grazer plays a neurotic germaphobe running from a fear-eating clown, but in reality, the film felt like “summer camp.” Both films never felt like work; he just learned his lines and got to hang out on extravagant sets with his best friends. Likewise, school amounted to being pulled off set by a teacher in between takes to cram in the mandatory hours.

But with We Are Who We Are, he steps into his first leading role, one that required him to convey longing and confusion through Elio-like physicality and subtext. It’s abnormal to talk about the show as a turning point for an actor who isn’t even a legal adult yet, but Grazer explains that the show required him to radically change his approach to acting. He spent six months in Italy (“It felt like I was in Call Me By Your Name.”) and built up the character beyond what was on the page in collaboration with Guadagnino. “His philosophy is that we know our characters better than anyone else—even the writers—because we are the characters essentially,” he explains.

In many ways, Grazer absorbed that philosophy entirely. He describes the experience less as a performance and more like a “rebirth”—perhaps even an attempt at method acting. Over those months in Italy, the distinctions between actor and character gradually became indistinguishable. “I had no other choice but to act and surrender to Fraser entirely and throw Jack Dylan Grazer out the window,” he says. “I would go out and get a coffee as Fraser and walk like Fraser. That was just me trying to get into [character], but then I slipped at some point and just became Fraser.”

One day on set, he looked at himself in the mirror, and the hardened kid standing there with a bleach-blond dye job and oversized shorts was unrecognizable to him. He could only see Fraser. While talking about his character, he seems to unintentionally switch pronouns, from “he” to “I”, as if the two still remain one and the same.

The process was so transformative that it forced him to re-evaluate himself entirely. “I never really struggled with identity before,” Grazer tells me. “But I think the show opened up my eyes to question myself. Being Fraser forced me to question what I wanted and what I stood for and what I believed in. At some points, the show bled into reality.”

When asked how he has changed, he takes a pause and a pensive swivel in his armchair, unsure of how to answer. “I think I was more ignorant before I did the show,” he says, and he leaves it at that.

Coming of agers are a particularly well-trodden genre, but there’s a naturalistic, raw energy to We Are Who We Are that is distinctive from what we’ve seen before. Each character quietly struggles with their own problems and growing pains—for Fraser, it’s his sexuality. Caught in a fraught relationship with his lesbian mother and an infatuation with another man, his story doesn’t tick off the familiar beats. His personal discovery is instead internal and intimate. "I think every single person born as a boy has this guard. It’s this guard that they don’t even realize they have, where they’re initially like, ‘Being gay? I could never.’ But we’re all born as humans who are attracted to whatever we’re attracted to," he says. "I think that’s how Fraser interprets it as well. Yes, he’s reserved and nervous about it in the beginning because he’s unlocking this new idea for himself. He’s figuring it out, and that’s what you see in the show: him coming to terms with this idea."

As our conversation winds to a close, I ask him if Martin Scorsese ever visited the set—his daughter, Francesca, plays the confident cool girl of the show’s teen cohort—and his eyes widen. “That was actually a really stressful day,” he divulges. Still, he revels in the memory, speaking so fast it’s like someone has put him on 2.5x speed as he shows off his impersonation of Guadagnino. The director was so nervous about Scorsese’s presence that production halted that day.

“Luca was like, ‘I cannot do this today because Martin Scorsese is on my set. I don’t know what to do, this is not good for me. I will have a panic attack before the day ends,’” Grazer says in his best Italian accent. “It’s like if you’re a painter and Van Gogh shows up.” 

Admittedly, Grazer is also a self-proclaimed superfan of the Wolf of Wall Street director, and afterwards, he got to spend several days with his idol, as they went on lavish restaurant outings in Italy and talked about anything and everything.

He takes a second to compose himself. A giddy, Cheshire cat smile spreads across his face. The kid in him comes flooding back.

“...Oh my god!” he yells. “I met Martin Scorsese!”

[spencerreidslove]

Staycation

A/N: Just some pure tooth rotting fluff for these quarantine times. Reminder to stay safe and wear a mask in public.

————-

Week 1

“Maybe it won’t be so bad.” Spencer said.

You had to go into quarantine and your best friend was trying to convince you that it wouldn’t be bad.

“How? I’m a high school teacher who suddenly has to teach on zoom, and I live alone. I don’t even have like, a cat!” You said.

“I live alone too! And as far as we know, this’ll be over in two weeks and you’ll be back in the classroom in no time.” Spencer said, placing his hands on your shoulders.

You were currently in Spencer’s apartment, freaking out over the email you had gotten from the school you worked at, saying they were going to be closing for two weeks. Stupid virus.

Spencer and you had met two years ago in a bookstore when you ‘fought’ over the last copy of a book. You ended up getting it, but you also left with a phone number that would turn into your best friend’s phone number.

“I’ve got the best idea!” You said, suddenly.

“What?” Spencer asked.

“We could quarantine together!” You said.

“What? That seems like it goes against the rules of quarantine.” Spencer said.

“Think about it! It won’t be that long, and we both live alone. To save us from going insane, we could quarantine together!” You said.

Spencer seemed to be warming up to the idea. “Who’s apartment would we stay at?” He asked.

“Well...your apartment is bigger than mine. And you have a guest bedroom. And you have a washer and dryer already in your apartment.” You said.

“Fine. You can stay in my guest room for the few weeks we’ll be here.” Spencer said. “We can go grab your stuff later.”

“Oh this is going to be the best staycation ever!” You said.

Week 2

“This staycation sucks ass.” You said, dangling over the couch.

“Aren’t you supposed to go back to school soon?” Spencer asked from his desk. The last week had been fun, but being in the same apartment while both trying to do your jobs was hard.

“No. We got pushed back again. They said maybe by mid-April we’ll go back.” You said.

Spencer’s job at the FBI was changing too. For the safety of the team, they had stopped traveling and were only doing consults from their homes. The team also had a zoom meeting everyday, which meant sitting in your guest room for a very long time.

“That sucks. How are your students reacting?” Spencer asked.

“Eh. They say they love getting to catch up on all their Netflix shows, but some say they miss me, which warms my cold dead heart.” You said.

You flipped off the couch and went over to Spencer’s desk.

“I have a good idea.” You said. “How about tonight we stay up late and watch as many episodes of Doctor Who as we can?”

“That’s the best idea you’ve ever had.” Spencer said.

Later on, the two of you were settled on his couch, holding a bowl of popcorn and under a blanket. As the episodes went on, you caught yourself looking over at Spencer periodically.

His curls had gotten more wild, and you had never noticed the shape of his jaw before.

“Y/N?” He asked. You hadn’t realized he caught you staring at him.

“Sorry, I just zoned out there for a minute.” You said.

Week 3

You were on a zoom call with your third period class, going over Manifest Destiny. Spencer’s call with his team was later in the day so you actually got to do the call from the office for once.

Spencer had stepped in a few minutes ago to grab a book off his shelves, and was now looking at the shelves behind you.

“Can anyone name the president who really pushed for Manifest Destiny?” You asked.

“James K. Polk.” Spencer said from behind you without hesitating.

“Spencer, last time I checked, you weren’t enrolled in my third period American Studies class.” You said.

This caused a few laughed from your class.

“Sorry.” He said before slipping out of the office and back towards the kitchen.

One of the girls on your screen raised her hand.

“Yes, Amelia.” You said.

“Is he your boyfriend, Miss Y/L/N?” She asked.

You felt your face flush. “I-uh-no. Spencer’s just my friend.” You said. Wanting to change the subject as quickly as possible you moved on to your next question.

Later, when you were watching some random reality tv show, you thought about it. Sure, you really like Spencer, but enough to date him?

Maybe there was something there.

Week 4

“Ugh!” You called out, slamming your phone down on the kitchen island.

“You ok, Y/N?” Spencer asked.

“No! No, I’m not ok! I just found out we’re going to be doing online for the rest of the year!” You said. “It sucks. I had so many fun activities planned and I was so excited for the end of the year and I just-“

You stopped as you felt tears well up in your eyes. It was only your second year as a teacher and you were really looking forward to redoing some of your favorite things from last year and some new activities.

“Oh, Y/N, I’m sorry.” Spencer said. He came up beside you and wrapped his arms around you.

You fell into his embrace and you two stood like that for a few minutes, Spencer holding on to you, you crying into his shoulder.

When he pulled away, he wiped the tears from under your eyes.

“How about a nice long marathon of whatever show you like?” Spencer asked.

“Even if it’s cheesy and stupid?” You asked.

“Especially if it’s cheesy and stupid.” Spencer said, pulling you in for another hug.

Week 5

“Can I give you a haircut?” You asked.

“Absolutely not.” Spencer said.

You were standing behind him, and you ran your hand through his hair. “It’s getting really long though! I promise I won’t mess it up!” You said.

“No, I draw the line at haircutting. Have you ever even cut hair before?” Spencer asked.

“Once. On a Barbie doll.” You said.

“So no. You are not cutting my hair.” Spencer said.

You moved so you were sitting next to him and did your best puppy dog eyes. “Just a couple inches?” You asked.

You sat staring at him for a few seconds before he sighed.

“Fine. Two inches.” He said.

“Yay!” You said.

A few minutes later you were in the bathroom, Spencer sitting in a chair, you holding the best pair of scissors you could find.

“I’m so glad you let me do this.” You said, brushing through his hair.

“Only because you’re my best friend.” He said.

You smiled and grabbed the scissors, and started cutting the back of his hair.

“Be careful. That sounds like a lot.” Spencer said.

“Calm down, it’s like an inch-maybe two.” You said.

You worked in silence for a few seconds before coming around to his side. You cut some peices and then kneeled down in front of him. You were now eye level.

You brought a few pieces of his hair over to the other side, in an attempt to make it even. You didn’t even realize that Spencer was looking at you until you let go of his hair.

“Hi.” You whispered.

“Hi.” Spencer whispered back.

Suddenly, he was leaning forward, but not all the way. Kind of like a signal, if you didn’t want this, you could still pull away.

But you didn’t pull away. You wanted this. You leaned closer and pressed your lips to his. Spencer pulled away after a few seconds, and then smiled at you.

“I’m really glad you gave me a haircut.” Spencer said.

“I’m really glad you agreed to let me stay here with you.” You said.

Tags!

@rexorangecouny @magnificentmgg

[mydriases]

Silent cry

Jamil Viper x Reader Warnings: Spoilers for episode 4, Hurt/Comfort Word Count: 3 600 Summary: In the aftermath, you wonder if his love for you was nothing more than another lie.

Winter break was a bit too long for you. You loved holidays but being away from your love for so long weighed on you. You remembered how warm his lips were when he kissed you goodbye before you went through the mirror. You wished you could have went along with him in the Country of Hot Sands but your family wanted deservedly to have you home. It didn’t ease your longing for him though. The desire to be reunited with him increasing the more you thought about him and the last smile he had given you.

You had finished your homework in a short time, putting in practice every study tips Jamil had gave you. Passing the time while getting lost in the colorful world of Magicam, the notification that rang in your ears easily caught your attention to inform you that Azul Ashengrotto had started a live stream on his account. With nothing better to do and wanting to avoid continuing to drown yourself in the gloom of this endless day, you pressed the screen without thinking.

You were surprised when the face of your love appeared in your field of vision. As far as you knew, Azul and Jamil were only classmates, so to see the latter on Azul's account was odd to say the least. The focus of the camera became a little blurred, highlighting the scenery instead of  your beloved. You recognized the walls as those from the Scarabia Dorm. What were they doing there? Jamil didn't tell you anything about staying at Night Raven for the holidays. Had he received orders from his parents telling him to stay with Kalim in Scarabia?

The camera stabilized again and you were able to see Jamil more clearly. You expected to see his usually serene look, but what left you speechless was that Jamil’s expression showed a confusing wickedness. A sneer deformed his mouth while his arms made grand gestures as he spoke to someone in front of him. You found a look of resemblance with the face he did after winning against you at your favorite game. Nonetheless, you never had witnessed Jamil having on his face such a frightening contempt. Did they decided to organize a friendly competition in Scarabia’s dorm ? No, Jamil would have invited you if so, he always did.

The person who was filming zoomed out and you saw Azul, blank stare and dangling arms, direct opposite of Jamil's threatening aura. You immediately figured out the situation and prayed that you were mistaken. He wouldn't dare, would he? There was no more friendliness in the air, everything indicated a confrontation that took a turn for the worst. That was the only logical reason Jamil would have used his unique magic on someone, especially Azul with who he had a polite relation. But none of them had a hot temper so it didn’t make any sense in your eyes.

And then Jamil spoke.

What scared you, even more than the hatred that seemed to consume your beloved on every side were the words Jamil articulated without trembling. Revealing his desire to bring Kalim down from his position of dorm leader, he seemed drowned in joy as it was clear that his plan was working.

He had spoken without shame, his voice betraying that he believed in every word he said. You didn't understand, you didn't want to understand. In the hope of finding a logical explanation, your gaze slipped on the title of the live: "The dark side of a certain famous magic school". There was no information on the nature of the current events. So was it not a joke? Jamil was not the type to participate in this kind of thing. But maybe if Kalim had asked him he would have accepted ? But you were certain he used his unique magic and he had always been so secretive about it, there’s no way he would have used it in front of thousands of people. You didn’t know what to think anymore.

Jamil kept talking, spitting his venom on Kalim and on his position as vice dorm leader which he seemed to hate with all his heart. As hard as his words were, you couldn't help but feel your heart clench at the sight of the triumph that lit up his face. He had suffered so much that he felt liberated by the simple thought that Kalim would soon no longer be a part of his life. All this sick euphoria was the result of a pain you never knew anything about.

He used the word ‘free’, as if he'd been imprisoned in his role and his sentence was about to be served. He believed that the downfall of Kalim would be his ascension. Suffocating under the most negative emotions he saw only his own hatred, reason disappearing little by little.

Before you knew it, tears had begun to wet the corners of your eyes. Comments from other users were all expressing their shock at this student's behaviour. They were talking about how unacceptable his attitude was and that he was the one who should expelled from this school. Horrible. Everything you saw was horrible: Jamil's expression and words as well as the comments from people who didn't even know him, who didn't know anything about how he felt. Then, you wondered.

Did you know him as well as you wanted to believe?

One of Octavinelle's twins entered the camera field, accompanied by Kalim and Ramshackle Dorm's student. Jamil's face decomposed as he realized he had been tricked, in front of more than five thousand spectators.

You listened carefully to their conversation, their voices muffled by the rapid beat of your pulse. You saw Azul break out of his false hypnosis and Kalim ask, on the verge of a breakdown, if Jamil was really betraying him.

Jamil laughed. He laughed and it seemed to be liberating for him. He had lost, but there was no more pretending anymore. His laughter became a cry of hatred towards Kalim and, as it was apparently still possible, his face sank deeper into this malevolent expression as he conjured up his unique magic: Snake Whisper.

His unique magic was a secret for everyone in school, except for you and Kalim. When you took your relationship to the next level, he had accepted to entrust you with the real nature of his magic. Because you were equals, because you loved each other. And now, while witnessing his actions, you wondered what was left of this mutual trust.

A flash flooded your screen and you heard a voice uttering the beginning of the word "overblot". Then the broadcast was over and you were left shaken in the solitude of your bedroom.

Your brain filled with thoughts, each one more heartbreaking than the last. Your boyfriend was a manipulator (was he ? or it’s because you didn’t manage to see through him ?), he has just overblotted (thanks to someone who failed to alleviate his suffering) and was going to hurt loads of people (and to think that you could have avoided all of this). Did you fall in love with this person? Did you have any responsibility for his actions? (yes and yes).

Your conscience was being torn apart. Split between guilt and fear and incomprehension. You needed to do something, anything. You needed to go there so as to reason with him, so as to get explanations. Time suddenly seemed to accelerate as you hurried to put on your shoes and get your coat on.

You left a note on the kitchen table, summarizing the situation in a handwriting that betrayed a nervous tremor of the hand. You came out of your house -gasping for breath before you even started to run- and headed towards the nearest public transport.

Everything was long over by the time you got here.

You’ve asked everyone you encountered, pleading for someone who knew where Jamil was. The student from the Rhamshackle Dorm was your savior. Explaining along with their weird cat what happened in details and telling you that he was now resting in his room. You thanked the two of them and started to run to where you knew he was.

You stopped to hurry halfway through.

Loads of the damage he’s made was because of the fact he overblotted but that didn’t explain his disturbing scheme. If during all this time he had only been forging a perfect image of himself, hiding all his bad attentions, what was left of the sincerity you had sworn to each other? Jamil has just been unsmasked but you don’t change in the twinkling of an eye. It took time for Jamil to put up with his plan and it will take time to make a fresh start. Was everything before that a lie?

As far as you can remember, your relationship with Jamil was one-sided in therm of confidence. You told him your insecurities, your traumas and most of your philosophy on life. He told you loved you. Being evasive at the slightest question because when I’m with you I don’t want to think about bad things, you make me happy and I want this relationship to be about the love between you and me. Not my problems. I can be your confident of course, but don’t expect to me to share everything. It’s just how I am, it doesn’t mean I don’t love you, because I really do.

That was the first time he confessed to you. You didn’t answer, because you were too busy embracing him and nuzzling the crook of his neck. It was also because you were feeling a bit disappointed. You didn’t want to be clingy if that’s not what he wanted, it was fine, really. But it made you feel like you were not as close to him as you wished. His arguments were justified : when you’re with your loved ones it’s normal to want to have fun and not think about all the depressing stuff that happened in your life. But now that Jamil has overblotted nothing is the same.

You sincerely wanted to believe him, to leave behind his bad deeds and start all over again. But a part of you pointed its finger at him while murmuring in you ear that he was a liar, a hypocrite that used you to appear less suspicious. Kalim choose to forgive him, obviously, despite all the suffering he endured. He has always been very lenient after all. You still haven’t seen him, nevertheless the chances are high that he would tell you that Jamil has always been at his side. Helping him through the hardest times, having been raised with him. That’s wasn’t your case.

If you wanted to leave him you’re sure he would understand. You could find another person to love and build a relationship not based on lies. But first and foremost, Jamil deserved the right to explain himself.

In front of his bedroom, as feeble as the first time you knocked on his door, except that this time it was because your relationship with Jamil was about to take a turn, not because you were excited to see him ; you waited for an answer that never came. You couldn’t be patient anymore. You pushed one of the handles and were surprised to discover that the door latch was unlocked.

Jamil was sitting on his bed, his gaze not lingering on you as he fastly looked away. It destroyed you. You thought you were ready to face him. To accept that he despised you, rejected you or begged you to forgive him, but not that he ignored you. Your voice came out hoarse, as wounded as you were :

" I came as soon as I could "

You wanted to cry at his feet and plead him to forgive you for not understanding him, you wanted him to cry for hurting you and Kalim, you wanted to leave him, you wanted him to tell you he loved you.

With his head down, one hand firmly clutching the sheet underneath him, he gave no answer. For the time being you were still lovers, but within the four walls of this room you were strangers. Because of him, perhaps because of you. You took a breath and knew what to say.

" I’m sorry "

For not being there when you needed me, for letting myself get attached to an illusion, for what you’re about to say, for everything that will be left untold.

" For what ? You did nothing wrong. "

He sighed and let himself fall backwards on the bed. He gazed at the ceiling, eyelids fluttering soflty as his hand was still grabbing the sheet under him. You walked towards him, he looked up to you and you found mixed emotions in his eyes. He seemed glad you were here but also like he would prefer for you to be anywhere else. You sat on the bed in a way that Jamil could not see your face, you didn’t need your voice to become tearful and trembling. The silence invaded the room as you were pondering over what to say. You tightened and loosened your grip on your coat, which you had been forced to remove due to the heat, and decided to cut to the chase.

" Jamil, I know I’ve never told you before but I love you. "

In spite of everything that happened, it was true. You knew that your endearment for him really had evolved in something stronger a long time ago. It's a shame it's only now that you're telling him.

You had to question him about his actions, make him spill whether or not he used you. But you didn't have the strength. Your spirits had never been so low, your self-confidence so damaged. Every answer to your questions would turn out to be a knife stuck a little deeper into your wounds and you couldn't take it. He knew either way, didn't he? He was observant, you were an open book to him so there was no need to ask questions he already knew.

You remember when you kissed for the first time and that the two of you became a couple. Everything was so easy, so simple. Never you would have thought that one day things would change, that you would want to run away from him. In the span of a few minutes, your whole life had changed. Anyone could be a traitor, from the most reserved friend to the one that couldn’t stop talking. Somewhere among these people was a liar. You had hoped it would not be Jamil, that it was just a misunderstanding and a bad joke from Octavinelle’s trio, but the facts were there.

You heard the rustle of the sheets, hitting that Jamil sat up again, and felt the warm contact of skin against your shoulder. Hesitantly, you turned your head towards him and he clutch to you a bit more as a sign of encouragement. His gaze was now overwhelmed by sorrow, mirroring your own expression. He sighed once again and reached into his pocket in order to pull out a bracelet decorated with a small red stone, similar to the one that adorned the ribbon in his hair.

" Here " he said, his voice trailing off as he was finishing his sentence " I wanted to give this to you to celebrate my rise as Dorm Leader but it won’t happen. I don't think I could give you things like this again after our talk, so take it. "

He handed you the bracelet, his fingertips brushing against the palm of your hand while doing so, you started observing the red gem so as to benefit from a pause in the conversation. He seemed sincere which illuminated a beacon of hope in you : Jamil meant to give you this after his accomplishment which signified that you were not a mere piece in his plan. That was one less thing to worry about, remained his disturbing attitude.

You played with piece of jewelry, observing the delicacy of the gemstone and the golden color of the bracelet. Giving you such an expensive item as a present was symbolic, surely it wasn’t just a piece of the richness of the Asim family. Jamil would have prefered to offer you something more personal, not showy but simple. He was like that.

Your heart sank.

" I’m sorry, because I didn’t see how you felt and also, maybe, because I feel uspset to habe been deceive by the person I trusted the most. I’m sorry for myself. "

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Jamil straightening his posture.

" In a way, you’re both similar and different to Kalim " confied Jamil, " How could have you changed anything when I was the one keeping everything to myself ? " He crossed his arms, one of his thumbs circling on his skin. " That’s why I’m the who needs to apologize. Not because I regret my actions, but because I’ve abused your trust. If I had told you, there are chances that you would have tried to stop me. Now that I overblotted I guess that it wouldn’t have been a bad thing. " His hand almost went to hold yours, but he suddenly changed his mind. " Forgive me. You were the one person I didn't want to hurt no matter what. "

Although it was what you came for, his apology didn't lighten the load on your heart. You wipped away a tear you didn’t feel coming, silently hoping that Jamil saw nothing.

The light of the room was getting dimmer as the sun began to disappear into the horizon. In the silence and darkness of the place, the gravity of the situation was crushing you. Here we are, the time to choose to forgive or not. You would be a liar if you said that you didn’t still want to be with him. To hug him and run your hand through his hair like before, to work beside him -paying more attention to him than to your homework- to talk to him about whatever interests you at the moment. But it would also be a lie to say something hadn't been broken in you. If he’s lied to you once, there was no proof he wouldn’t do it twice.

" I wished there was a way I could make it up to you " Jamil mumbled and you authorized yourself to turn to him. His eyes were glistening lightly, half hidden under his locks. That was a odd thing to see him moved, as well as a huge step forward.

" It will take long before I can trust you again, Jamil " you sobbed unable to restrain yourself any longer. The back of Jamil’s hand came to wipe away the tears that escaped you. Your gazes met. His expression was worried, his movements were uncertain and his voice wavered when he whispered your name.

" Do you want anything ? Maybe a handkerchief? "

The tears multiplied, but it didn't matter when the man in front of you wore the same expression.

" Hug me. "

More of an order than a request, but Jamil complied without hesitation. His arms wrapped around your form, you leaned into his touch and the two of you sank into the bed. One of his hand caressed you head as you nuzzled his neck, still sobbing, maybe a bit less loudly. From the start, his warmth was what you were looking for, finding his embrace again and spending your time by his side. Little did you know that the moment of your reunion was going to have the bitter aftertaste of tears.

" Can I stay with you for the night ? "

" Yes, you can. Of course. " he whispered, "Does your family know you’re here ?"

" I left a note, they’ll understand. "

There was still several thing you needed to discuss but for now you let yourself fall asleep in the soothing embrace of your love. You had been deceived and hurt, Jamil had been belittled and probably just as hurt. Maybe it was necessary to pass through all of this in order to better your relationship. Regardless, that was all in the past now. You weren’t sure wether or not you forgave him, the scars being still opened and far from being healed, but you were ready to try again. And hopefully, your couple wasn’t going to be as one-sided as before.

Underneath you, Jamil reflected on the consequences of his actions. In spite of all his bad deeds, Kalim, you and so many others have decided to forgive him. He felt good, he felt awful. Mainly he felt grateful for all the kindness he received and that he didn't deserve. Things will be different from now on, he’ll be Kalim’s servant no more, at least not as much as before. All his plans had been revealed, there was nothing left to hide.

He synchronized his breathing with yours and realized you had fallen asleep. There was still a long way to go before the damage he's done can be repaired but he’ll try. Because you, and even Kalim, deserved to be happy. His arm wrapped a bit more around you as he waited for sleep to take him.

It was strange but the darkness of his room didn’t feel lonely anymore.

Hey, it’s been a while. I’m still a silent lurker who doesn’t want to bother at heart that’s why I don’t post updates, hope you didn’t forget about me. I’m still working on requests but I struggle a bit to convey what I want sometimes and end up deleting what I’ve done because I don’t think it’s good enough :’) I hope all of you are safe, my inbox is open to anon again if you want to talk.

[crystalsmentalhealth]

Talking about the Brattleboro Retreat in Brattleboro, Vermont

I recently spent two weeks at the Retreat and wanted to share my experiences both good and bad about it. 

I arrived at the Retreat in mid-June of 2021 after a four day stay at the Emergency Department of my local hospital. Originally I had not wanted to go to the Brattleboro Retreat because it was such a big campus and I equated that with busy and loud and impersonal. The Retreat would challenge my assumptions.

Getting There

I didn’t drive myself. As I said I spent four days in the ED of my local hospital and so I arrived via ambulance. The ride was stressful and nauseating. I was already stressed and nervous and the mountainous winding roads did absolutely nothing to help. I didn’t lay in the stretcher, but sat in a back-facing seat with no arm rests and with a blood pressure cuff around my left arm. 

The trip took about an hour and except for a few questions from the person riding in the back with me, it was spent in nearly complete silence, which again, did nothing to help my nerves. There was no reassurance or even light conversation.

My Arrival

When we got there, they grabbed my bags for me, probably because I wasn’t allowed to have them yet, and with one person before me and one person behind me, lead me up the stairs to the admissions office. We were met at the door by an admissions person and I was dropped off like an Amazon package. The ambulance personnel left and I was officially at the Retreat.

I was first led to Security. They dropped off my bags with Security, and asked me to empty my pockets. I had none and told them such. Then I was led to an exam room where the woman who was with me found a gown that would fit me and held it up in front of her. I was then told to strip completely. I balked, but obeyed. First went my shirt, then my bra, then I stepped into the gown. Then with that covering me, I wiggled out of my pants and underwear. She gave me a pair of hospital pants to put on so I wasn’t completely bare. Then I was shown a chair and given a pair of huge grippy socks to wear. One size fits all, I guess.

After that the lady took my blood pressure, my pulse, and checked my oxygen levels. Then she took my temperature.  My clothes and shoes were sent to Security with the rest of my things. I had off-brand crocs as shoes so I had no idea what they needed to check for, but off they went.

After the clothing change I was led to an office. I felt so awkward standing in a grey hospital gown, blue hospital pants, no panties, and those huge grippy socks, in front of two nicely dressed office personnel. They let me have a seat and the questions and paperwork began.

What was my insurance? Did I know about the extra inpatient days allowed? Who was my primary care physician? My therapist? My psychiatrist? My case worker? Did I have an Advanced Directive? What are the addresses? Did I want a male or female provider? There were so many questions! 

Then it was sign here, and here, and here, and here, and here.

After that I was given a green folder that said Welcome to Tyler 2 which contained various information that I would need during my time there. My patient Bill of Rights, how to file a complaint or grievance. That sort of stuff. 

Then it was off to another area and now they wanted a urine sample. I had already done two at the hospital and really didn’t need to pee, but I tried. I assume it was for a drug test, but I have no real clue.

Then I was sent off to another exam room, this time for a full physical. She asked me all about my medical history, whether I was having normal bowel movements or not, all about my diabetes, my family history (cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer, heart disease, cancer, kidney failure, cancer), she even checked my reflexes. The ARNP that examined me had the neatest notebook. It was electronic and I was fascinated by it. 

(At the time of writing this I’ve only been home for two full days and I still have a very clingy cat who is currently laying on my left hand so if you catch a typo that kitty has caused me, please let me know.)

After the physical I was given one outfit to wear back, sans bra because my bra was underwire, and I was sent to a seat to wait to be sent to the unit.

The lady who watched over me offered me something to drink while I waited and when she offered milk I took her up on it. Unfortunately it was 1% milk, which I really hate, but hey, milk, so I drank it while I waited.

I didn’t have to wait long. Before long a Security guard and a nurse from the unit I would go to came down and led me down one corridor, in one elevator, through a cafeteria, up another elevator, and finally I was on the unit.

Tyler 2 

The first thing I noticed when I got on the unit was that the bedrooms were singles. Yes! I hate sharing my bedroom in hospitals. At the worst, I’d once had to share with three other people stuffed into a two person bedroom. Two poor souls had had to sleep on cots. So I was very happy to see that I would have my own room.

I was shown into an interview room for yet even more paperwork and questions. All this is the business of the psychiatric hospital and it comes at the literal worst time of your stay, the beginning. When you’re scared and your nerves are raw, and your mental health is at it’s worst.

A three question questionnaire was first. Why are you here? How can we help? What are your coping skills? Depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation. I don’t know. Reading and journaling.

Then there was a check list of things that helped when I was feeling bad. I was fascinated to see that laying down in my room was one of the options. Most hospitals I had been in forbade that, with some going so far as to lock the doors to the bedrooms during the day so people didn’t sleep the day away. It was a pleasant surprise, and I checked that off along with a few others that I felt applied. 

Then, the nurse, and we’ll just call her Rose, asked me if I was hungry and told me that they always had sandwiches on the unit and that the kitchen which held milk, orange juice, flavored water, cold water, hot water, coffee, teas, and various snacks was open 24/7. I declined both sandwich and snack.

Finally, I was left alone for a couple of minutes and I had a moment to just breathe. It was a Thursday according to the giant whiteboard that had the day’s schedule on it. Most of the groups were over with.

A little bit later a bag was brought up with my clothes and another with the few things I was allowed to have: my Bible; two coloring books; two books (A Street Cat Named Bob and A Wrinkle in Time); my toothbrush, my hair brush, and my composition notebook; were given to me. The clothes I wasn’t given yet. I was told by a nurse that because of COVID they washed everything that came on the unit whether it was clean or not and I would get my clothes once they were dry.

I was then shown my room. Number 219 was to be my home for the foreseeable future. It was a fair sized room, the walls painted hospital blue, the floor had boring brown patterned tiles, There was a plastic chair, a twin size bed with a single pillow, and brown blanket, and bottom sheet. There was no flat sheet. 

There was a set of built in shelves and a small alcove with an unbreakable mirror and large shelf where I put my green folder as well as my other personal belongings that I was permitted to have. I hung around in there for a few minutes before wandering back out and awkwardly looked around.

It was soon 8:30pm and Rose, who was my nurse that night, offered me my bedtime medications. I accepted and went to bed. 

The Schedule

I slept fitfully that night. I was scared, they checked on me every 15 minutes, and it wasn’t quite dark when I went to bed. I woke up obscenely early the next morning, which is very unusual for me, but I attribute it to the uncomfortable mattress, the lack of my comfort item; a stuffed cat named Fat Cat that I sleep with, and the fact that my room had a double window that faced directly East. The sun rises at about 4:45am right now, so it woke me up at around 5:30am that morning.

I wandered out, thinking it was much later than it actually was, since it was fully light out. I sleepily blinked at the analog clock and tried to decipher it. Inwardly I groaned at the time. To kill time, I awkwardly wandered around the unit again, and I think I laid back down for a little while. 

Eventually I left my room again and it was 7:30am. Shift change. I can’t remember who my nurse was that morning, but by 8am it had become quite the busy place with the morning nurses, the mental health workers, the social workers, and the group leaders milling about the nurses station. 

I noticed that the whiteboard had changed with the day, and so I glanced at the Friday schedule.

8am - Breakfast 9am - Community Meeting 10am - OT Movement 11am - Psychotherapy 12pm - Lunch 1pm - Courtyard (yellow level) 2pm - OT Activities 3:30pm Shift Change 4pm - Courtyard (yellow level) 5pm - Supper 6:15pm - Game room/small courtyard (yellow level) 7pm - Wrap Up 8pm - Free Time 9pm - Relaxation 10pm - Phones/computer/TV off

Yes, we had a computer. Some guy we’ll just call J tended to hog it, but so long as it wasn’t group, before morning shift change or after 10pm or 11pm on Friday night and Saturday night, anybody could use it. Of course Facebook and YouTube were blocked, but Vimeo wasn’t. Can somebody please tell me the difference between YouTube and Vimeo? 

I didn’t really go to groups that first day, and I was on Red level, so I wasn’t allowed outside even if I had wanted to. I did however see the Social Worker, a very nice woman we’ll just call M. and my doctor via ZOOM, Dr. L. 

All of the staff was really nice to me, and the unit, which at that point had a census of 19, was actually fairly quiet for the most part.

When 8am hit, and the breakfast trays arrived, I asked where I should go to eat. I was told I could eat on the porch, the day room, or in my room. Eating in peace alone in my room. Yes, please. I took my tray, got a carton of milk, and walked down the hall to my room. 

When I pulled the lid off my plate, I discovered eggs, home fries, and a corn muffin. I also had some fruit. I cautiously tried the potatoes and found them to be quite good, but couldn’t eat anything else so I took my tray back.

I hovered awkwardly around the schedule board until somebody brought me a chair.

Then it happened. My stomach began churning. I went to the nurses station and told one of the three nurses that I had a bit of an upset stomach and could I have something for it? She looked up something and told me I could have some Tums. She sent me to the med window and used some fancy machine to dispense the Tums. I stuck them in my mouth and chewed. I swallowed. It was then that I knew I had made a mistake. I literally felt the Tums hit my stomach, felt my stomach cramp, and then I was vomiting. 

After that experience and the cleaning up thereof, I got my morning meds at around 9am, and soon found myself back in the interview room, this time with a nutritionist. At least I think that was Friday. It could have been Monday. Regardless, I talked to her about being sick (it wasn’t the first time, I had gotten sick back in the ED as well), my lack of appetite, my diabetes, the medication for diabetes I was on (2000mg of Metformin and .5mg of Ozempic). She gave me some information the nutritionist I had talked to from my doctor’s office had already given me, then ordered Glucerna for me three times per day.

Glucerna is the diabetics version of Ensure for those of you who don’t know.

I slept a lot that day, and I’m pretty sure I refused lunch and maybe supper. They checked on me - and everybody else - every 15 minutes, but otherwise didn’t pester me.

The next day, of course, started the weekend. I can’t remember the exact schedule for the weekend, but it was far, far more boring than then weekday. There was just Community Meeting which I wandered into but didn’t participate in, a couple more courtyard opportunities than on the weekdays, more free time, Wrap Up and Relaxation. Relaxation happened at 9pm, but I already considered that bedtime as that was when I got my bedtime medication.

Sunday was just a repeat of Saturday with one bright exception. Sunday Sundaes. At around 2pm we got ice cream with sundae toppings that we could have on it. I don’t think I got it that first Sunday, but I can’t quite remember.

Monday doesn’t bring any particular memories except that that’s when I started attending a group here and there.

Meeting Nathan

Then Tuesday came, and I met Nathan. Nathan was a Psych intern who is now no longer there, so I’m not afraid of using his name. Nathan did 11am Psychotherapy, but had been on vacation the week before as well as Monday. I liked him instantly. He spoke quietly, thoughtfully, gently, and never pressed for answers if the person didn’t want to or couldn’t.

At first, we only spoke in group, but after one group disintegrated into chaos he ended it early and offered to speak to me one-on-one. The one-on-one time I got with Nathan, which eventually became every weekday, became the best, most helpful part of my stay at the Retreat. Some of his questions were hard. They were either highly thought provoking or brought on strong emotions, but he was very skilled in not pushing too hard and always bringing me back to the present if I got too lost in the past. 

I think I opened up more to Nathan in the week and a half that we spoke than I ever did in the two years I’ve seen my normal therapist. 

The Nightmares

I’ve suffered from nightmares for a very long time. In my nightmares I’ve been raped, had my home invaded, seen demons, had my parents stolen away by a dragon (that one happened twice. Same stupid dragon too.), been kidnapped, been chased around Wal-Mart by paramedics with a stretcher, and so on and so forth. The nightmares I suffered at the Retreat were something else entirely.

The dream I remember most, and let me list off some trigger warnings real quick: blood; abortion; abuse; infant death; decomposition; bad parenting; bad medical professionals, was about this young woman who tried to do some sort of home abortion that got botched. She went to the hospital and they sent her strait to surgery where they cut her open with no painkillers or anesthesia. The baby was tiny, but healthy and viable, so they took her out of the young woman’s womb, and haphazardly stapled the woman’s abdomen back together. 

Then the dream began to focus on the baby, but not in linear time, but rather in snapshots. In the first snapshots the baby was fine. Pink, perfect, beautiful little girl dressed in frills. Then the next day’s photographs and the baby’s face was turning black in places. The next; her eyes turned murky and there was more decomposition. Mind you, while she’s decomposing, she’s still alive. Then her little fingers turn black and fall off, and it continues like this until the fifth day when the baby finally dies.

The mother, who was recovering from her own trauma, couldn’t have cared less about her baby.

The nightmare turned weird after that and I don’t remember what happened next, but I continued to have vicious nightmares during my stay there.

Dr. L tried to treat them with Prazosin. but I found that it made my nightmares more vivid. Then she tried to get me in a deeper sleep so the dreams wouldn’t wake me up, but that only got me caught in the nightmares and unable to wake up. 

We never did figure out how to ease the nightmares and keep me asleep at the same time. Right now we’re trying a higher dose of Gabapentin, also known as Neurontin. I guess we’ll see how it works out.

Strange Characters 

There were some...interesting characters at the Retreat. There was one guy who we’ll call J. You may recall him from my complaints about him being a computer hog. He suffered from delusions of grandeur and I believe psychosis. One time I was in the open area near the nurses station he began staring at me suspiciously. Then, after a couple of very awkward moments he asks me, “are you an Imperial or a Rebel?” I told him I had no idea what he was referring to. Miss J who was sitting near by goes, “she’s an imperial, she’s a good girl.” Then J nods and says  “I know she’s my sister in Christ, so she must be good.”

I still have no idea what he meant by Imperial or Rebel. Is it a Star Wars thing? If so I thought the Rebels were the good guys. I’m so confused. 

Miss J was a homeless woman who had been there for nearly nine weeks. She was very nice to me, but she mumbled a lot and I had to keep asking her to repeat herself. 

M was a strange old lady. She would sit at the nurses station and laugh and laugh and laugh as loudly as she could, then all of the sudden she’d be declaring one of the housekeepers an angel on earth and how he should be protected and how everybody else was basically garbage. She eventually got taken out via ambulance.

A was another strange woman. Having been there since May 27th, 2021, she was there involuntary, She talked to herself a lot, drank loads of coffee, walked in and out of groups, and was best buddies with a woman who liked to be called Rabbit, as her real name, the same name as A, triggered her. A and Rabbit were thick as thieves and fed off of each other’s chaos.

Rabbit liked to sing at the top of her lungs when she was happy and when she was angry she would file a grievance, announce loudly that Obama was her father and that you (the nurse she was screaming at) aren’t her boss. She was nice enough to me, but I went out of my way to be as non-intrusive as possible.

Then there was D. D was 30-years-old, claimed to have 12 children. D was volatile, a substance abuser who enjoyed “a drink, some weed, and some coke”. Pretty sure she didn’t mean the soda. D had a shadow who had to write down what she was doing every five minutes. I don’t know exactly why, for the most part, volatile or not, she was pretty chill. She dressed provocatively and the first time she spoke to me it was early morning and we were on the porch.

She asked me why I was there. I told her depression. She asks my why I was depressed. I admitted that there was a lot of trauma in my past. She tells me she’s been (tw:rape) raped all her life, and then proceeded to tell me that I shouldn’t be depressed because I was pretty and thin. Now. I’m smaller than D was, because I’ve never had children, let alone 12 of them, but I’m 5′3″ and 210 pounds; thin is not an adjective I would use to describe me. 

She then proceeds to tell me that I needed a better bra. I was wearing a soft low support sports bra, so yeah, my chest area was very un interesting. I told her I was just wearing something I could sleep comfortably in. She told me to shop at Victoria’s Secret for some better bras and I’d feel great. 

After that, D decides to mention the gray in my hair. She says “you should get extensions to make your hair long and pretty, or better yet, shave your head and wear wigs. It’s what the black girls do.” She then went on about how wigs could really look good and how I’d have so much fun with it that I’d forget all about being depressed and how there were some sites where you could buy some good wigs for really cheap.

As I recall, I was fairly unresponsive during her spiel and walked away as soon as it wasn’t rude to. 

The Really Bad Day

I don’t recall exactly what day it was, time blurs for me on a good day, and I wasn’t having any good days while I was at the Retreat, but one day was really bad.

TW: Suicide TW: Self-Harm

I was really, really suicidal, and I told the nurse I was talking to that. She asked if I had a plan, and for the first time I really did. I told her I would wait until right after a check - remember we got checked on every 15 minutes - then I would take a pair of my pants and wrap them around my neck and strangle myself. 

Then she asked if I intended to follow through with the plan. I wanted to, I really did, but I also didn’t want to cause trouble, and that’s a huge issue with me, so I told her no. And that was the truth. I was suicidal, I did have a plan. I had a detailed plan actually. But I didn’t really intend of following through.

As you might expect, she had to report that to my doctor. Dr. L. spoke to me about how I was feeling and later, about five minutes after I had gotten on the computer to use Duolingo to distract myself, (See, I was using coping skills.), the nurse I had spoken to, and who I liked quite a lot, came to me and said that Dr. L wanted them to temporarily confiscate my clothes and take the sheet and blanket off my bed. It was to be replaced by blankets that couldn’t be ripped. Nurse E told me it wasn’t a punishment, it was a safety precaution, but I was so embarrassed and felt punished. I was allowed to keep the weighted blanket they had let me borrow, and my pillow, but other than that they took every bit of fabric in the room.

I don’t know if it was a good move or not. I just know that I wanted things back to ‘normal’, as though anything in a psych hospital could be normal, but the next day I lied to Dr. Lambert and told her I was feeling better. She said I could have my stuff back, but for some reason when I asked a nurse later on, she told me that there were no orders about it from Dr. L. 

I asked again the next day and was finally able to get my linens and clothes back. I even got an extra pillow, for which I was very grateful for as my original pillow had been quite flat and hard.

The Road to Discharge

I was originally supposed to have been released on June 29th, a Tuesday, but I had to admit to Dr. L that I just didn’t feel like I could be safe at home yet. Not to mention that we were still trying to deal with my nightmares and sleep issues.

Dr. L and M, my social worker began giving me assignments to do. I was to fill out a safety plan, which I did. M had me write a letter to my regular therapist about the changes I needed her to make to improve our sessions. I am terrified to read it to her, but I really need to. I was given a huge stack of DBT (Dialectical Behavioral Therapy) information and worksheets to fill out, Nathan had me write something about a cousin of mine who had passed away due to an overdose of Fentanyl, and so I wrote her a letter telling her how much I missed her, how I was angry she was gone, disappointed that she couldn’t tell me she was back on drugs, how I was angry at her mom for getting her hooked on drugs in the first place, and ways I could have helped if she had just let me.

Meanwhile, people found out that I could make things out of the Model Magic that they had in the Contraband/Sensory room. I made I can’t even remember how many cats for people. I also made roses, and one dragon. 

I was also writing dark poetry, just trying to purge my dark thoughts and get them out on paper.

Nathan continued to have one-on-one therapy with me each weekday, even if he only had half an hour.

I was meeting with my social worker daily, which they normally didn’t do, but when she realized that I wouldn’t go to them if I needed something, she decided to head it off, and meet with me, even if it were only a couple of minutes, each week day.

Finally, we decided on a day. Friday, July 2, 2021. I was so nervous, but so excited to come home and see my furbaby, Loki. 

When the day came, I dressed in the nicest clothes that I had brought, which was a pair of elastic waist jeggings and my pink Cat Mom t-shirt which everybody loved. I only went to one group that day, and that was Psychotherapy, and I had my meeting with Nathan. I had one last meeting with Dr. L. and my social worker. My nurse that evening gave me my treatment plan which had my diagnoses. (Major depressive disorder, severe; Borderline Personality Disorder; and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder)

Just as supper arrived I got the word that my ride was there. 

Final Thoughts

Being at the Brattleboro Retreat was a difficult experience, but it was also a positive experience. In the beginning I was mad I wasn’t at the place where I had wanted to go, which was the Windham Center, but by the end of my first week there, I had decided to make the best of where I was. I didn’t like all the nurses, I definitely had my favorites and those I dreaded, not that they were ever mean to me, but I’m not sure, there’s just people you don’t like, you know? 

I was on a great schedule while I was there. I was up no later than 8am and went to bed around 9pm, I ate at specific times. I got my medicine at specific times, and that routine was very comforting. Did I keep to it when I got home? 

No. It’s currently 12:26 in the morning and I’m working on this still. 

I’m still drinking my Glucerna, no matter that it costs me $40 a week for three a day, but I just don’t want to eat. Oh, I nibble. I’ve eaten some chocolate graham crackers and sipped on a 20oz Vanilla Coca Cola over the last four days. I just don’t eat. 

I learned, while I was there, that it’s okay to speak up, to take up space, to have a voice, even if it’s quiet, I learned that it’s okay to get angry or ask for help. I can ask people for what I need. I don’t know how well I’ll be able to apply what I learned, but that’s always the hardest part of learning any new skill. 

I know that this has been a huge amount of reading, but I wanted to give you a detailed example of what a psychiatric hospital is like. I hope that it informs you and I hope that if you’re heading to a psychiatric hospital or treatment center that maybe after reading this you’ll have less fear and anxiety because you have some clue as to what to expect.

I would also like to let my readers know that these are just my personal experiences in an American psychiatric hospital. I have no idea about British hospitals or European hospitals or even hospitals in other parts of the United States. My experiences in hospitals in Florida is a stark contrast to my experience in Vermont hospitals. I find Vermont’s response to medical care and psychiatric care in general is substantially better than Florida’s. I’ll do a post on that later.

Ask for help. Take up space. Use your voice.

National Suicide Hotline: 800 273-8255 Crisis Text Line: Text START to 741741

By the way, if you need me to tag another trigger word, please just send me a message and I’ll edit the tags to take your trigger word in consideration.

[firepiplup]

How do i say no to people

You know that analogy about people with adhd having spoons for energy management or whatever? My spoons are on backorder from like 2 months ago and more got on that list now

The problem is that all of the things I'm being asked to do are Very Important Things

I have to feed my diabetic cat. This in itself is not a problem, however she's needs to eat at a specific time (12 hour spacing) and my current sleeping situation along with work do not allow this to happen consistently. Currently trying for 7:30, we'll see how it goes

My apartment has bedbugs, and there's no way in fucking hell I'm sleeping on my living room floor until my scumlord landlord actually gets the guy to come back to spray because he did spray but I'm still seeing adults and i "need to give the spray time to work" it's been fucking 2 weeks i don't know how is supposed to work but i feel like after 2 weeks whatever spray you did isn't going to get any stronger i just want to sleep in my own bed it's been like this since fucking March

With that part explained, I'm sleeping at my mom's house on the other side of town. This in itself isn't much of a problem, however as "payment" i have to take care of her dog in the morning, to practice because she's going on a week long vacation in October and none of her dogs can just be taken care of like normal dogs. He needs to wear a diaper to leave the room while i pick up his shit and soiled weewee pad and mop the floor, give him some time to be out of his room, and then feed him his special food mix. The other dog has allergies and probably will get into something he shouldn't, then not use the bathroom outside even though he literally has a doggy door that has constant access to the backyard. Neither dog get along with each other, which is why they are separated. Thank fuck the cat is just normal, this is why i prefer them

Now with THAT explained, it's difficult to take care of my own cat on time in the morning. But as the legendary Billy Mays says: But wait, there's more!

I just got rehired at my job working in a local understaffed pizzeria. My friend, ego also works there, is on vacation (good for her, she deserves it, absolutely no negativity towards her) so i have acquired her hours. So i now work 6 days a week, kinda sorta clopen but i guess it's more of opelose. Or a combination of both? Idk. The point here is, I'm then dealing with essentially running half a restaurant alone 6 days a week, with it not being 7 purely because the owner himself ALSO has the same work schedule as far as I'm aware, and wanted to give himself a day off, and since we are so understaffed it would be impossible unless we literally closed. My tasks include answering the phone, washing dishes, making sandwiches, making dinners, folding pizza boxes, and cleaning the tables/equipment on that side of the restaurant. So essentially everything except making pizzas, cleaning the pizza area, mopping in general, and driving. We generally close at 9, 10 on Friday and Saturday. Guess who was explicitly rehired to close those days? Guess how that's going to work with me having to be home around 7:30 to take care of my own cat? I have no idea either. It's only for about 3 weeks, but my mom, whom i have not asked for any additional help with anything, won't feed the cat while i have work, even though there isn't a guarantee that i can leave on time to THEN RETURN to close, because again I'm the only one on that side of the building. I understand the fear of the bedbugs, so that's probably it, but it still fucking sucks because the kitchen is on the other side of the apartment from the bedroom and there is literally no reason to go there to feed her. But i get it

Did we get to where i can do my own ADLs? Of course not. My neighbor is in the hospital, and her husband is blind. This is a new development that was only discovered an hour before starting this post (about 3:30 am for me). She's ok, it's for mental health reasons, and that's her own business about that. Her husband being blind is not a new development however. And he needs help taking care of the pets, specifically the birds. Which is fine, they just also need to eat on their own schedule. 8am, around lunchtime, and 8pm. Guess who's still at work? One of the birds is special needs because her beak got injured and needs to be essentially spoon fed. Which the blind husband can't do at all. Fairly simple task, but just adding to my obligations that are Very Important because they involve making sure things don't starve to death while my neighbor is in Crisis

Ok let's see, that's 4 Very Important Tasks/Obligations, and only one was originally my own voluntary one. Still not at taking care of myself yet, but i have my shelter, i have my job ("part time" minimum wage, hurray. Part time because even with me being there 6 fucking days a week open to close it still isn't technically enough hours for the state to recognize it as full time), and I'm taking care of *counting* about 8 pets for the next week. Will unemployment give me my money that I've been claiming since March? No? Will they let me claim with my new working hours that makes that while process even harder? Technically but it'll take over an hour for it to process and it doesn't even do that in the end? Well fuck, guess i have to wait to get paid on the books in cash and beg for a hand written paystub and have my hours worked written down. Glad i earned $100 this week, i hope now that my hours have increased i get some more

Next on the list, appointments. Because I'm a dumbass who can't remember shit if it isn't consistently recurring, i overbooked myself for next week. My much needed therapy appointment with my therapist that I've only met once and is the replacement for my much better therapist that i actually had a relationship with is supposed to have a session with me on Tuesday. Will i remember to do it this time? Possibly since i actually remembered it's on Tuesday. Will she send me the reminder text with the zoom link? Probably not. Wednesday, my one day off, thank fuck for that, is the main problem with the scheduling. My med appointment is for 11:30. Cool, can do. Driving lesson at 12. Oh, that's a little close, but i can manage that probably. I only average 1 lesson per year and a half, so it's fine, it's "healthy" to be nervous about operating a death machine powered by explosions. Have to go to social services to pick up, or attempt to, a new food stamps card. They probably close at 5, and add a Non Driver, i need to rely on someone to take me. The sooner the better, but it can't be during the lesson. Don't forget to take care of the creatures before and during all of this.

Ok. Great. There's an hour before work. Time to shower, because it's so fucking hot I'll be sweating like crazy by the time i get around the corner to the pizzeria, with me literally getting out and dressed and then walking out the door. Glad i finally did still to take care of myself. Eating? I might have something i can heat up quickly while the cat eats and so i can take my own meds. Dishes? Those are going to have to wait, i hope the heat wave doesn't get too bad, but it's been like this for a while, still slowly chipping away at them. Sleep? Severe insomnia. I partially blame the bed, my mattress is so comfortable, i hope the bedbugs like it because i can't fucking use it right now. I'd be sleeping so fucking soundly if i were in my own bed, and yet here i am. Maybe i should take the Trazodone now. I just hope I'll wake up on time. Oh look I'm exhausted, can't afford to buy comparatively better prepared coffee from Dunkin, so i guess my shitty at home coffee is going to have to do. Black because i don't have any creamer or milk or lactose free milk in my house. Just the way i hate it. Gonna have to deal with that i guess, maybe I'll learn to like it

The coffee pot lives in my fridge now. I'm worried to put it with the other dishes because if it sits there, not being washed like everything else, then i won't even have the option of coffee. It's just water and ground up beans, I'm sure it's fine

Maybe i can find some kind of coping skill/hobby to help me through my limited me time. Let's see.... I like to crochet, and that helps me get through the dishes by letting me alternate between them and a row/round on one of my many started projects. What? It's in a giant garbage bag with a bedbug treatment stick because of the damn ass bedbugs? Can't open it for at least another week and even then there isn't a place to put the yarn safely? Well fuck. I found that really helpful with keeping me grounded. Umm, well looking online, i should *checks notes* buy new yarn in the meantime and keep it somewhere safe. Uh, well, i can't afford more yarn now and i have nowhere to put it. Videogames it is maybe? Oh fuck now I've hyper focused too long on pokemon, rhythm heaven, and whatever daily games i do, i think i have 5 of those of varying lengths of time spent on them

Did i remember to brush my teeth? No. Do i remember that i should and then when i get out of the shower so i forget to actually execute? Yes. Have i gone insane? Probably

How many spoons is a person supposed to have per day? It takes more for me just to get through the day in general. Why does everyone need me to do their Very Important Tasks? Why is there never anyone else? Can my neighbor just not buy more birds when she gets home from Crisis?

I just want to have good mental health, why is this so hard

[erin-bo-berin]

Darkest Storms & Brightest Rainbows (Part 2)

MASTERLIST

Part 1

Part 3

Hard Love (unofficial Part 4)

Since I couldn’t leave y’all hanging for too long, here is part 2 of my Spencer/Reader/Cat fic. This is where things kind of go in a different direction from the show, but I thought it would be a nice twist than what we know from the show. This takes place over about a year so that’s why there’s so many skips in time. But in this part, there’s some answered questions from the first part...only to be replaced with more unanswered questions and perhaps another cliffhanger. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Word Count: 4,168

Rating: G (some angst, some fluff)

Grief is a strange thing.

Some people grieve quietly, away from the public. Others, dive into work or another activity to keep their mind busy as they try to place that grief into something else. Occasionally, people skip grief and go straight to anger, questioning the world why they lost their loved one; but in most cases one grieves normally, keeping the person alive in their memories as the pain fades and becomes easier to live with.

But sometimes, grief can consume you. It can completely engulf your entire body, feeling like every cell of your being has been replaced with sorrow. The world doesn’t seem real as the only world you inhabit is the one inside you, filled with despair and sadness. No one could ever be able to describe it, no one could truly know how awful it feels.

You had never felt such a horrible feeling. At least not until now.

•

It was less than a week later that Spencer’s funeral was held. The amount of people that had shown up was astounding, not that you could blame them. Spencer truly was one of a kind; not only great at his work, but a wonderful person.

You couldn’t help but think the sea of black that surrounded his casket was a metaphor for your current emotional state. The world felt dulled by your pain. 

With nowhere else to go, you were forced to stay at Spencer’s apartment, a blessing and a curse in one.

The dark green walls, the deep brown furniture, the living room filled with shelves and shelves of his books were both comforting and painful at the same time. You couldn’t help but notice just how quiet the entire place felt without him to fill the atmosphere with his knowledge and loving nature.

Almost immediately after the funeral, you took to staying in bed. The deep brown sheets still smelled like him and you didn’t want to leave. You just wanted to stay in this little bubble forever.

•

 The scenery was filled with busy streets, people walking by on the sidewalk and cars and buses zooming past on the street.

He sat at an outdoor table of the small café, sipping his coffee, awaiting his company. It wasn’t long until he spotted her amongst the crowd of pedestrians, her long blonde ponytail swinging as she walked.

“Hey,” she sat down across from him.

“Coffee?” he offered.

“No thanks.”

She pulled out two manila envelopes, ready to get down to business. 

“In here is the information you need to access both of your bank accounts. One here in Moscow, the other in St. Petersburg. Both have enough in them for you to be comfortable while you lay low.”

“Alright,” he took both envelopes and put them in his bag for safe keeping.

“Are you doing okay?”

“I’ll be fine. How is she?”

She blew out a breath, not sure she could tell him just how bad it was.

“Not good.”

“Promise me one thing, okay?”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Take care of her while I’m gone. Please, JJ, that’s all I ask.”

She nodded, moving to stand.

“Be careful, Spence.”

•

It’d been only a month. 30 days since you’d heard the terrible words “Spencer’s gone”.

You couldn’t wrap your mind around the fact that he never made it off the operating table. The bullet had just been too hard to find, there was too much blood, he was crashing too fast.

At least that’s all you could remember being told by the doctors, the numerous members of the BAU and other people you couldn’t remember. It was like the entire experience had been wiped clean from your mind, only bits and pieces of memory flashing here and there.

Your mental health had taken a nosedive. You barely left bed because all you wanted to do was sleep. You ended up losing your job, but you didn’t have enough energy in you to even care. 

You didn’t eat.

You barely managed to get out of bed for a shower. Somehow you stumbled to the shower maybe once a week and that was because your friends made you.

It had been a rotating crew of the team visiting you. 

Mostly it was Penelope, Emily and JJ, but Rossi, Morgan and Tara stopped by a few times too.

Even Hotch showed up.

You could tell just how much your misery bothered him and he, like Morgan, spent his time trying to make things right rather than pay you visits.

Not that you cared all that much.

“We will catch her,” Emily said.

You sat in the middle of the bed, one of the brown sheets in your hand as you played with it, not looking up at your company that was sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Spencer wouldn’t want this for you. He wouldn’t want to see you not able to leave bed, not being able to grieve properly,” she said gently.

“I don’t know what Spencer would want. Cause he’s not here, is he?!” Your lower lip trembled, tears threatening again.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, brushing away the tears although it did no good since they were falling faster than you could wipe them away.

“It’s okay, I understand.” Emily pulled you into a hug, “We all miss him too.”

She let you cry until you felt completely drained of tears. With all the crying you’d done, you were amazed there were still tears left to shed.

“Have you eaten anything today?” She pulled back, looking at your face.

“I tried to eat some toast this morning, but I threw it up.”

“It’s probably because you haven’t eaten much,” Emily answered, “Do you want me to get you something? We could order a pizza?”

You shake your head, your stomach rolling at the thought of it.

“Thank you, but no.”

When Emily left ten minutes later, you crawled back into bed, shutting your eyes, willing sleep to come and rob you of your memories.

•

“We should tell her.”

“Garcia, no. You know that Hotch advised against it,” Morgan said.

“But she’s miserable,” Emily added.

“Guys, Spencer made us promise we wouldn’t tell her. It’s safer that way. If she knows he’s alive, Cat could come after her to get to him. That’s the last thing he wants,” JJ said.

“I was just over there last night and took her some food. I thought she was going to puke just looking at it. It’s like she’s wasting away to nothing,” Penelope frowned, “Literally and figuratively.”

“Reid was basically all she had, other than us. With no family left, we’re all she has,” Rossi jumped in.

“That’s why we’re not going to give up on her, okay? Or finding Cat,” JJ said, looking around at the other teammates, “We’re going to find this bitch if it’s the last thing we do.”

•

The next time you had company, you were too busy with your head in the toilet to hear anyone let themselves in.

“Oh my goodness, honey.”

You hear the distant voice of Penelope Garcia as she rushed into the bathroom, kneeling to rub your back as you retched again.

“Did you eat something bad?”

“I haven’t eaten anything for 48 hours. I’m amazed there’s anything left in me to throw up,” you groaned.

“How about I make you some of my infamous Garcia chicken noodle soup?”

You nodded, even though your appetite was nearly nonexistent and let her assist you back to the bedroom.

“You look horrible,” Garcia winced, “Sounds like you’ve caught a nasty bug.”

You pulled the sheets up over you as you laid back down.

“Tell me about it. All I want to do is sleep but I can’t for throwing up. Plus I guess I’m starting my period cause my boobs hurt like hell.”

“Oh that’s the wor-” she paused mid sentence and you look up at her, waiting for her to continue.

“I’ll be back in a little bit okay? You just rest and I’ll get that soup started.”

She dashed out of the room and you peered after her, too exhausted to question what was wrong. Soon after, you drifted off.

-

“JJ, Y/N’s throwing up, exhausted and her boobs hurt doesn’t that sound just like…?”

Penelope was pacing the length of the kitchen, which wasn’t very big to begin with, as she talked to JJ on her phone.

“Yeah, it does,” JJ agreed.

“Should I ask her or?”

“Give me an hour to grab Emily and we’ll be there.”

•

“Y/N?”

In your dream, you woke to Spencer shaking you gently, smiling sweetly down at you. Your heart swelled with love for him, just looking up at him. You reached out to touch him, when he called your name again. Only it wasn’t coming from him this time.

“Y/N? Y/N?”

You felt a gentle shake of your shoulder and your eyes opened to see JJ, Emily and Penelope surrounding you. You sat up, rubbing your eyes, confused.

“What’s going on?”

“Garcia called and told us you’ve been pretty sick lately,” Emily said, “I remember you said you were sick the last time I visited. How long have you been throwing up?”

You shrugged, “It’s been off and on for a few weeks. Why?”

The three exchanged a look before turning back to you.

“When was your last period?” JJ questioned.

“Oh, uh,” you stopped to think, realizing you’d been so consumed with grief you hadn’t even registered the absence of your monthly cycle.

“About two months before the hitmen case.” Your eyes widened at the realization.

That was over 3 months ago now. Then, you’d just assumed it was stress making you skip your periods.

“Could you be pregnant?” Garcia gasped, trying hard to suppress her grin.

“I...I don’t know,” you answered truthfully.

You couldn’t remember the last time you and Spencer had been intimate. The last few months of his life had been so busy, filled with cases that usually it was just a matter of being together when you had a spare moment.

“Don’t worry. That’s why we brought these.”

JJ held up a bag with three different pregnancy tests.

“One for each of us to check,” Emily added.

“Now why don’t you go take these and go take a shower. We can check them after you get out,” Garcia said.

You nodded, obeying their orders. 

After a quick shower, you stood in fresh clothes, your hair still dripping wet. The three women stood looking at the pregnancy tests you’d taken and left out.

“Well?” you asked, biting your thumbnail.

“Positive,” JJ answered.

Emily looked up from hers, “Positive.”

“Positive!” Garcia squeaked, bouncing on her feet.

You felt your mouth drop in utter surprise and wonder, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks.

“I’m...pregnant?” you whispered, tears forming in your eyes, a small smile on your face.

“You’re pregnant!” Garcia squealed, rushing over to hug you, the other two joining in on the group hug.

For once, your tears were tears of joy. There was a part of Spencer that would always live on through this baby.

You had a reason to live again; a tiny, growing reason, but a reason nonetheless.

•

The following weeks were less than desirable in your opinion.

After being forced to visit the hospital by your friends and having an examination by Derek’s fiancé Savannah, you discovered that you were severely dehydrated from your weeks of grieving.

You couldn’t help but feel guilty knowing you’d deprived your little one of the food and nutrients it needed to grow. Savannah—who happened to be close to delivering her and Morgan’s first child—had assured you that after some fluids from a couple of IVs you would be fine. All you had to do from here was to continue to eat properly and take your prenatals and the little one would be just fine.

“This is what you get to look forward to,” she’d  chuckled, rubbing a hand over her round 35 week pregnant belly.

You had found out that you were 12 weeks along, just a week shy of your second trimester. Unfortunately, you had still experienced morning sickness all day long and still only looked bloated, not pregnant.

But time passed quickly.

Four months turned into six. Six turned into eight. There were many changes that happened around you besides the growing human inside of you.

The search for Cat continued, the team working their asses off to find her, but with no luck nor leads.

Changes to the team happened too.

Derek Morgan retired from the FBI, wanting to be with his now wife, Savannah and his little boy Hank. You’d sent him off tearfully. He was one of Spencer’s best friends, one that you had become close with too over the years, but you knew he was going to be the best dad.

A new member joined in his place, Luke Alvez. He had been familiar with Spencer as well and the team welcomed him into the family, as did you. 

Then Hotch decided his time with the FBI was coming to an end. After a particularly grueling case, he put in his resignation paperwork. He was happy to be a more involved father to his almost teenaged aged son, Jack. You wished him all the best, knowing he was going to have the time of his life with more time for Jack, even though it was hard to see him go.

Emily stepped up as the new unit chief and brought in agent Matt Simmons, another agent you were familiar with. A tall, handsome, hardworking sweetheart, you were glad to welcome him to the team as well.

The changes within you were just as extreme as the ones around you.

Your belly grew bigger, your little one stronger. You felt kicks and movement daily now, each move warming your heart, although you couldn’t help but wish quite often that Spencer was around to witness this. He would be so in love with this baby, you were sure of it.

You struggled with the decision to find out the sex of the baby. With a vote between you and your friends, it was a unanimous vote for yes.

Mere weeks after the discovery of your pregnancy you found out you were carrying a precious baby girl. You were completely overjoyed, as was the entire team. You couldn’t help but feel grateful for the team of people that would be loving extended members of the family and of course, babysitters. Occasionally though, the melancholy feeling would creep back into your subconscious.

Spencer would’ve been over the moon knowing he was going to have a little girl. He would’ve spoiled her so much and she would have him wrapped around her little finger. You missed him daily, even though a part of him grew in your belly. You couldn’t help but be sad for your little girl who would never have the chance to meet her amazing father.

It was then after many weeks of contemplating a name, that the perfect one came to you. You decided to keep it a secret until she was born, much to the team’s dismay, but you wanted it to be a surprise. In your heart though, you knew it was the perfect name for her. 

-

Your ninth month of pregnancy had finally arrived as did the other symptoms of your final trimester. You were tired, achy and felt like you’d swallowed a watermelon. You were so ready to get this baby out.

As if overnight, Spencer’s apartment had been filled with baby things in preparation for her arrival. Her crib was in the spare bedroom, although she wasn’t going to leave your side for the first few months, hence the bassinet next to the bed in the bedroom.

Bottles were lined up in the kitchen, boxes of diapers sitting in the living room. You couldn’t believe it was almost time to meet her; secretly you hoped that she took after her daddy, both in looks and personality.

“How are we feeling today, mama?” JJ asked when you met her and Garcia for your weekly lunch.

“Like a huge, swollen basketball,” you laughed.

“Hey princess, auntie Penelope can’t wait to meet you,” Garcia rubbed your belly, making you grin.

“Maybe you need to give her more pep talks because I’m so ready for her to get out,” you groaned, “And to see my feet again.”

“Henry and Michael are so excited for her to be born,” JJ chuckled, “I’m going to have to tell them to be gentle with her though, they’re not used to little girls.”

You grinned. You loved JJ’s two boys. Spencer had been their godfather, so you’d kind of become an auntie to them. She often brought them to visit you when you were still grieving Spencer’s death and they were the only ones who could bring a smile to your face during your darkest period.

After you’d found out you were pregnant and started rebuilding your life again, you often volunteered to babysit them. Other than your little girl, they were the ones who motivated you to begin healing and getting stronger. 

They got more excited the bigger your belly grew. Henry, the oldest would often try to explain to his younger brother Michael that babies came from mommy’s tummies. He also told him that there came a point when mommy and daddy loved them so much that there was no room left for the baby in the mommy’s belly. So, the baby had to come out in order to get the rest of that love. It warmed your heart knowing that one day, your child would be this big and this smart.

You were so thankful for them and for the entire team in general for pulling you out of the hole of despair you’d been in for you might not be sitting here right now.

When you’d ordered, the three of you sat and chatted about their current cases and baby stuff until you felt a slight trickle down your leg. With a glance under the table, you realized your pants were soaked. For a moment, you thought you’d peed yourself.

You groaned, expressing your concern. Even though that was just a symptom of pregnancy, it wasn’t any less embarrassing.

But the flow of the trickle became heavier. When JJ came around the table to assess the situation, her eyes widened, taking in your now soaked seat.

“I think your water just broke.”

A flurry of activity followed.

-

18 hours of labor and nearly 2 hours of pushing later, you were holding your daughter, staring at her in amazement.

Her tiny fist was holding onto your finger and you smiled down at her, tears blurring your vision. It was early yet, but you thought she looked just like Spencer.

She had a head of brown hair, his eye shape and his mouth, but your nose; although it looked much cuter on her.

“She’s so cute,” Garcia cooed at her, stroking her cheek.

“Spence would be so happy, Y/N,” JJ said.

You smiled up at them. They’d been the ones you’d requested to be in the delivery room and they’d been amazing helping you through the rough labor.

“Can I hold her?” 

“Of course,” you smiled, handing her to Penelope.

“Me next,” JJ smiled, holding her little hand.

“So are you gonna tell us her name now or what?” Garcia urged.

“Yes,” you smiled, “I thought it would be appropriate for her to always have a part of her daddy with her. So I decided to name her Spensa. Spensa Rose Reid.”

“That’s beautiful,” JJ breathed, looking down at her, “Hello, Spensa. You look just like your daddy.”

•

Adjusting to being a single mother was difficult, but so rewarding. It helped a ton that you had so many willing helping hands, as well.

Spensa was such a laid back baby and loved to be sociable, even at five months old. She truly was the light of your life.

You loved watching her grow and learn new things, from rolling over to waving and clapping her hands. She babbled a lot as well nowadays.

Her dark head of hair had lightened to a lighter shade of brown and was just starting to curl at the ends. Her blue eyes surprisingly hadn’t turned dark yet and she still looked so much like Spencer.

She had the little dimples in the side of her cheeks that only showed up when she made specific expressions and she liked to scrunch her nose occasionally, just like daddy. It was almost hard to tell that she was yours, but you didn’t mind one bit.

She was the sweetest baby and you fell in love with her more every day.

As to be expected, the entire team fell head over heels for her and often took turns visiting when they had time. Sometimes, you even took her to the BAU to visit all her aunts and uncles.

You often talked to her about Spencer, even though you knew she was too young to understand. It was amazing how the knowledge of her had eased so much of the grief you had felt those first few months. You still longed for him, missed him so much, but in a way he was alive and with you within Spensa.

It was nearing her bedtime one night and you were rocking her in the chair next to the crib.

“Do you want to hear another bedtime story about daddy?”

She baby talked in response, playing with her toy giraffe.

“Well, your daddy was the bravest man I know. He was so passionate about his work and he was good at it too. He was sweet as you are, ladybug.”

You tickled her stomach, smiling at her giggles.

She laid back in your arms, still playing with the toy in her arms, her gaze on you.

“He cared so much about the people he loved. He would have loved you too munchkin. He loved kids so much and he wanted his own some day. I wish he could be here to see you.”

The tears choked you and you wiped a hand over your face as they fell. Spensa started fussing as if she could sense your sadness.

“It’s okay baby,” you repositioned her on your lap, reaching for the frame of you and Spencer on her dresser.

“You wanna say goodnight to daddy?”

Spensa babbled to the picture, putting her hand on it. 

It might have seemed silly to do such a thing every night, but you never wanted her to not know who Spencer was.

You kissed the top of her head.

“I love you, Spensa.”

•

In Moscow, it was a pretty standard day for Spencer. 

He had managed to set a pretty strict schedule in his time here. It had been nearly a year and he had gotten used to life in Moscow. He still worried daily about his girlfriend though, worrying for your safety.

It was Thursday evening, the usual time he went to the market, yet when he returned to his place, something felt off.

On the entrance table, there was a lone red rose and a note. His eyes scanned over the note.

Roses are red

Violets are blue 

I have a surprise

And a secret too

Love,

Cat

He automatically reached for his gun that he carried at all times, just underneath his pant leg, in an ankle holster.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” came the taunting, familiar voice from behind him.

He turned around to face the living room and saw Cat sitting in one of the arm chairs, her gun on the arm.

“Spencie,” she grinned, “Miss me?”

•

It was just after nine. Spensa had just been put down again after her 8 o’clock feeding and you were attempting to rinse some dishes off before you headed to bed.

The tv played in the living room and you turned, confused when you no longer heard any sound coming from it. You shrugged it off, chalking it up to a possible power outage.

You returned to the dirty dishes, the clinking plates masking the noise of the sliding porch door clicking shut. A creak from behind you made you freeze in place. You glanced up, a figure approaching behind you clear in the reflection of the window. 

Before you even had the chance to cry out, something hard struck the back of your head and everything went black.

•

You groaned, your head pounding. You reached up to rub the sore spot, wincing as you try to sit up. It was bright behind your eyes and you fought to slowly open them, blinking a few times until your surroundings come in to focus.

That’s when you saw them.

Across the room stood your dead boyfriend, lips locked with none other than Cat Adams.

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[dirt-cup-draco]

Sirius x Reader- More To You (4/?)

tag list: @spacegirlhere @treestarrrrrrrr @slytherpuffgal @scaredofvscogirls @jenniseiblack

Previously:

You found you wanted to pull Sirius back to you, feel the warmth of his body against yours, hoping it soothed him the way you realized it soothed you in this confusing time. “Goodnight,” You finally croaked, heart still aching form his admission.

“And a good night to you,” Sirius said, sinking back into that somber and tight lipped man that Azkaban had turned him into. You watched him go as you filled your glass.

You weren’t sure how but you were going to make sure Sirius knew that he wasn’t responsible for the deaths of the Potters. If it meant clearing his name and using your own resources, you were going to do it. If it meant standing in opposition to the Wizengamot and their wishes, you would do it. And if it meant standing by him with encouraging words and keeping him safe, then you would do it. One way or another you were going to free Sirius Black from his sullied name and his own demons, no matter what it took.

Summer was at it’s peak and the sun was blistering as you lounged in the backyard, Sirius zooming around the yard as his tongue lolled out of his mouth as he attempted to keep cool. You had a bowl full of lemonade on the porch for him as you sipped at your own.

Running around your small backyard was the only way he could stretch his legs some and you felt terribly guilty about that. He was always stuck inside the house and he could only watch the movies you had so many times before the boredom started eating at him. 

Whistling, you caught his attention and nodded to the door, picking up and going back inside. You appreciated the wave of air conditioning that met you as you waited for Sirius. Once he was inside, you closed and locked your door, pulling the blinds tight. 

“So,” You began, fanning yourself. “Any plans for the day?” 

Sirius gave you a funny look. “Was that supposed to be a joke?” 

You rolled your eyes. “I mean to ask, is there anything you want to do?” 

“Oh yes, tons of things,” Sirius griped, tying up his hair as it got too hot on his neck and if you were momentarily distracted by the column of his throat that shined with a thin sheen of sweat, you wouldn’t admit it. “Like clearning my name, and not being known as a murderer, and living in my own place and not having to pretend to be a god damn dog every time I got outside and-” 

“That’s not what I meant you drama queen,” You whined, “I mean, we could make ice cream or make a slide out of the stairs, or we could-” 

“Go campinig?” Sirius chimed in, a small smile on his face as you attempted to make his days less monotonous. 

“Camping?” You asked incredulously. “I suppose it’s a weekend... But I”ve never been camping before, and wouldn’t the ministry catch on somehow?” 

Sirius shrugged. “I can’t see how they would. We might have to go a bit further than usual, but we could manage. And nobody can do a better silencing spell than you-” 

“And you would know that how?” You interrupted. 

“When I’m bored I try to break the spells you have on your room, which I haven’t been able to do yet” He admitted without a bit of shame. “What I’m really curious about is why you have a silencing spell for your bedroom.” He winked. “But! As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me- your spell work is strong, if we need to be shielded, I fully believe that you can keep us safe,” 

You blushed for a thousand reasons but you felt pride that Sirius trusted in your abilities. “Well, I agree that I can keep us safe, and that we are going have to be a bit more.. muggle about this. I have a car, just to blend in really, but you can drive can’t you? I remember fifth year you drove a car into the greenhouse and Sprout nearly had your head.” 

Sirius smiled at the memory. “I certainly couldn’t drive then, but you’re right that I can drive now. I think we have ourselves a plan! Start packing,” 

With another notorious wink, he was racing upstairs. You smiled to yourself, glad that you had been able to cheer him up some. As the days passed you realized it was becoming easier to get Sirius to laugh and smile, yet at the same time he was losing faith in himself and he was becoming more guarded because of it. Hopefully, camping would be a good distraction. 

Two hours later, you were reclined in the passengers seat, legs propped up on the dash as Sirius hummed to some rock song he had found on a muggle station. Your bags were shoved into the back seat. You watched Sirius.His hair whipped around with the wind that rushed past you two. You leaned your head back, letting the wind on your face remind you of flying on a broom. Maybe driving wasn’t so bad. 

“Are we there yet?” You asked. 

“Asking every ten minutes won’t make us arrive any sooner,” He pointed out. 

Just to be obnoxious you asked seven more times in quick succession. 

“You are such a brat!” Sirius laughed, hand squeezing your knee as you grinned cheekily at him. 

It did seem to get you there quicker however as Sirius was turning down a remote path off some highway you had never been on, car rattling on the unpaved path. You drove quite a few miles inward. Sirius parked when he saw a lake and a clearing. 

“How did you know where this place was?” You asked, tossing him your tent and grabbing your bags of clothes and supplies as he set it up. “I was lost the entire way here,” 

Sirius was silent for a moment, and you nearly thought he wasn’t going to respond, but then he paused in his work and looked at you. “I came here once before,”

“Ooh, sneaky. I bet it was with some poor girl,” You teased. Sirius smiled but it was gentle, fond even. 

“No, actually,” He admitted. “I came with my friends. It was for Remus’ birthday and all he wanted to do was camp like muggles. We ate smores, fun little muggle sweets, and started a fire without wands and skinny dipped in the lake,” 

Sirius sounded wistful and you could tell these memories were bittersweet. Dropping the bags for a moment your wrapped your arms around his waist. “Sounds lovely, thank you for telling me,” You wanted him to know you’d always listen to whatever he had to say, that you were there for him. 

He kissed your forehead before pulling away too quickly, eyes darting around the campsite as a rosy hue tainted his cheeks. “I’m nearly done with the tent if you want to grab our blankets,” He instructed.

You made yourselves comfortably inside, the space bigger on the inside. You had nearly demanded it, you were one who strove to be comfortable at all costs. Sirius had, in the spirit of actual camping, confined you both to one room, but you wouldn’t complain too much seeing as he had given you ample space and a bed. 

Night fell fairly quickly and Sirius requested that you try those smores he’d been speaking of earlier. “I didn’t ask you to buy these for no reason,” He gestured to the marshmallows, graham crackers and chocolate in his arms. 

“This is impossible!” You huffed not ten minutes later, having set another marshmallow aflame. Sirius laughed, grabbing your skewer and blowing out the puffed sugar. 

“It is not, you just have to have a certain amount of finesse,” With that, he presented you with a sandwich of sugar pressed between what looked like cardboard even if Sirius insisted it was edlible. “Eat up,” He encouraged and you moaned in appreciation as the melted chocolate and caramelized sugar hit your tongue in direct contrast to the crisp graham cracker. Sirius blushed at the exaggerated noise that fell from your lips. 

“Oh, Sirius,” You beamed. “This is delightful!” 

Thrusting your skewer back into his hand you demanded he make you another. With a mumbled “bossy, are we?”, he made you another. And another. And another. Until you were sick on sweets. 

Your licked your lips and leaned against Sirius as he accidentally burned his own marshmallow, distracted at the feel of you pressed against his side so casually. “Thank you for this,” You sighed happily. “It’s been awhile since I’ve left home,” 

“No thanks to me,” He sighed. 

“Hey,” You frowned, pulling away so you could grip his chin lightly between your fingers. “Nonsense, you here me? I get out far more than you can so don’t feel as if you are keeping me in, if anything I’m the one trapping you. I wish it could be different... I promise I’ll clear your name,” 

Sirius’ heart leapt at the conviction in your voice and your stomach filled with butterflies at his returning smile. “I know you will,” His smile was tender and warm but quickly morphed into a smirk. “Even if you are a brat.” 

You frowned and squished his cheeks a bit too hard. “You can clean up,” You announced. “I am decidedly going to take a dip in the lake,” 

Sirius stared after you. “Y-you mean you’re going to-?” He dropped off, unable to get his mind straight. He felt like a teen all over again. 

It took you a moment to understand what he meant but you went red immediately. “No! Of course not you foul man! I’ll have my clothes on,” 

“Oh! Right,” Sirius blushed with you. “I’ll join then,” He tried to play it off like he hadn’t been more curious about you, all of you. 

The water was cool and you squealed as you splashed into the water, the moon reflected off the water and dancing across your skin that prickled against the chill, hairs rising. You had stripped down to your underwear and you would have been embarrassed at your lack of clothes if you hadn’t been distracted by Sirius emerging from the tent moments later, only a pair of boxers on him. 

“How’s the water?”Sirius asked, but didnt receive a response from you as you tried to tear your eyes away. A wolfish smirk tugged at his lips. “Cat got your tongue?” 

Instead of answering, you plunged yourself beneath the cool water, the shock of it setting your brain back to it’s normal setting. 

You both swam around, feeling like kids as you goofed off and splashed one another. Sirius was currently hell bent on dunking you beneath the water even as your teeth started to chatter.

“No!” You yelled at him, swimming towards shore and then sprinting when you could. It seemed you hadn’t found your land legs yet as you rolled your ankle, yelping as you fell back into the water, luckily it was the shallows. 

“Y/N! You alright?” Sirius asked immediately, going to your side and pulling you up by your arms. He had filled out some in the past couple weeks, lots of meals and a sleep schedule doing him some good. 

“Y-yeah! Just rolled my ankle,” You complained, trying to stand but found it was still too sensitive as you bent under your own weight. In only a second, Sirius was gathering you up in his arms. “Hey!” You argued but your mouth went dry at the pointed look he gave you. He was terribly close, and warm. 

Sirius set you on your sheets after using a quick drying spell, hand prodding gently at your ankle. “Sit still,” He said softly, uttering a healing spell and you thanked him. 

He grinned and kissed your knee in welcome, and you pretended like the small action of affection had stolen your breath from your lungs. 

“I wonder how you lived without me,” Sirius teased, tugging one of the tshirts youd bought for him over his still damp hair. The smile and worry lines on his face told of his age but you couldn’t help but see the young teen you had known in school. You scowled. 

“I’d do just fine, thank you very much,” You sniffled in indignation. 

Yet, as you lay in your bed that night, listening to the owls hooting in the trees and Sirius’ snoring, you became aware that you wouldn’t be alright if Sirius left you. 

[skye-maxwell]

Mostly You

Persona 4 | Souyo | Third year, pre-relationship | Rated F for Fluff

Happy birthday, @livefreeordie13! You are my friend, and I like you a lot! \o/

For prompt #6: “I think about you all the time.”

---

It was Yosuke’s turn to call him today, so Souji sat on the floor of his bedroom, patiently folding paper cranes while he waited. 

They had spoken to each other on the phone nearly every day since Souji had left Inaba, and Souji was grateful that Yosuke always seemed eager to hear from him. Even if it was just a quick call after school on his way to Junes, or while he was drifting off to sleep after a long day—Yosuke made time for Souji, and that meant the world to him.

The ringtone Souji had specifically assigned to Yosuke started playing, and Souji smiled, like he always did. It was a song Yosuke had shared with him to cheer him up when things had been at their worst, and now Souji knew every word and every note of the track. 

“Hey, Yosuke,” Souji greeted warmly, putting his phone on speaker and setting it on his desk so he could keep folding. 

“Hey, Partner!” Yosuke said happily, and Souji smiled again. He would never get tired of that enthusiasm. “What are you up to?” 

“Cranes.”

“Haha, again? Are you trying to set a world record for ‘most paper cranes folded’ or something?” 

“No, but now that you say that, it sounds pretty good. I think that’ll be my goal now.” 

Instead of dismissing the joke like Souji expected him to, Yosuke said, “Well, if anyone can do it, it’s you. I believe in you, Partner!” 

“Thank you,” Souji said dumbly, becoming flustered for a moment before he could think of a better reply. “If I do break the record, you’ll be the first one I invite to the party.”

“The party?” 

“Yeah, to celebrate my success.” 

“Oh man, a party thrown by you? I can see it now. It’s gonna be a total rager,” Yosuke laughed.   

“Of course. It’ll be the most enraged of ragers.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” 

“Honestly, it would probably just end up being you and me sitting in a room drinking something like, not even alcoholic, and we would try to clink our glasses together and probably spill lemonade everywhere—”

“When did it turn into lemonade?”

“—and then you’d be all ‘Congrats, Partner,’ and yeah, that would probably be it.” 

Souji expected Yosuke to laugh at the image he had created, or to call it lame and throw out ideas for an actual rager… 

“I mean, as long as I’m there with you, I’m down for whatever.” 

Souji dropped his paper crane. 

Why? Souji mentally asked Yosuke, picking his crane back up off the floor. Why must you say such cute things?

Not about to say anything remotely like that out loud, Souji asked, “So what are you doing right now?”

Not seeming to notice the abrupt change of subject, Yosuke answered, “I’m doing homework! Kind of.” 

“Are you just doodling in the margins?” 

“Not just the margins, Partner—the whole paper! Because, you know, there’s no notes on the page…” 

Souji sighed. “Do I need to hang up so you can get your homework done?”

“No! No no no! Please don’t hang up! I’ll actually do it later, I promise!”

“Calm down, I’m not actually gonna hang up on you.” 

“Okay, good.”

“That does remind me, though… Lately I’ve been daydreaming in class a lot. Sometimes I’ll just completely space out, and by the time I space back in, I realize I haven’t been paying attention for an entire lecture.” 

“For real? Did my bad habits rub off on you?”

“Why do you sound like that? What are you doing now?”

“Finished drawing. Balancing a pencil on my nose. Crap! I dropped it. Anyways, you’re supposed to be the good student between the two of us, man! We can’t both be slacking off!” 

“Sorry, Yosuke.”

Before Souji could say anything else, Yosuke suddenly asked, “What do you think about?” 

“Hm?”

“When you’re daydreaming all that time—what are you thinking about?”

“Well… I think about last year a lot, and how I wish I was still there with everyone, and I think about recipes I want to make, and movies I want to see, and what I want to do after high school, and… you. Mostly you, actually,” Souji accidentally admitted. 

“Me? What about me?” 

Now that Souji had let the cat peek its head out of the bag, he wasn’t entirely sure he would be able to keep the rest of it in the bag for much longer. 

“I think about all the crazy and terrible and amazing times we had together last year, and how I wish was still there with you. I think about recipes I want to make for you to try, and the faces you’ll make when you’re eating them. I think about movies I want to see, whether or not you would like them, the discussions we would have after we watched them together… I think about how badly I want to do whatever it takes to have more of you in my life after I finish this stupid third year… Yeah, all the time. I think about you all the time.”

“Partner, that’s… um, unexpected. I’m sure someone like you has better things to think about than me.”

Souji shook his head. “No. I don’t. Not more important than you, no.” 

“You’re exaggerating, right? To make me feel good?” 

“I’m not. Does it make you feel good?”

“Well, yeah, sure it does. Being on someone’s mind makes me feel special, y’know? Especially your mind.”

“You seem surprised, Yosuke. You really don’t have any idea how important you are to me, do you?” 

“I guess not? I don't know, it’s just… hard to believe. Do you know why I always make sure we talk to each other like this? I mean, obviously I don’t want you to be lonely, and I want to make sure you’re doing okay, but also like, I just don’t want you to forget me.”

Souji scoffed, immediately covering his mouth afterwards because he definitely hadn’t meant to do that, even if what Yosuke had said was completely ludicrous. 

Forget you? With the amount of running around you do in my mind, how on earth could I possibly forget you? 

Souji quickly tried to find a way to convey that sentiment to Yosuke in a less creepy way. 

“The only way I could ever forget you is if I had a major head injury, like blunt force trauma, and I forgot everything… or, if I, you know, died.” 

“Partner! Don’t say shit like that!” 

“My problem isn’t forgetting you; my problem is remembering you too much. Seriously, it’s constant. But actually, yeah, no, I don’t want to think of you any less, not really…”

“Heh, is this what it feels like to be flattered? You’re really something else, Partner. Oh hey, I’ve gotta go; my mom’s calling me for dinner.”

“Okay,” Souji sighed, feeling like he had sort of just poured his heart out (in a subtle yet super vulnerable and embarrassing way?), and yet the conversation had not come anywhere close to a satisfying resolution. “Tell her I said hi.” 

“Will do! She’ll be thrilled, haha. She’s actually trying out one of the recipes you left her, so I’ll let you know how it goes. Don’t worry though; it’s definitely not gonna be as good as when you make it.” 

Souji rediscovered his smile, happy that Yosuke would be thinking about him after he hung up—comparing his mother’s cooking against Souji’s own while he ate, remembering the times Souji had made the dish for him, coming up with an evaluation to share with Souji after the meal was done… 

“Your loyalty is appreciated.” 

“All right, Partner, thanks for talking to me.”

“Yosuke? I’m sorry if anything I said was too weird.” 

“All you ever say is weird stuff, man. I’m used to it.” 

“Pfft, okay, bye.” 

“Talk to you later!” 

Yosuke hung up, and Souji finished off the crane he was working on, setting the red paper bird on his desk in a row with several other red cranes. He took a photo and sent it off to Yosuke with the caption: “It’s like your shirt.” 

Satisfied with that, Souji stood up so he could go make his own dinner, but a text from Yosuke stopped him in his tracks. 

Instead of a reply about his picture, he opened up an unexpected picture from Yosuke. 

It was of his notebook, the one he had been doodling in at the beginning of their conversation. 

The first thing that caught his eye was a big-headed (chibi?) doodle of himself (the distinct bowl cut was a dead giveaway) in the middle of the page, holding his sword and wearing his TV World glasses. He also appeared to be on fire? Or maybe that was a representation of Persona power? 

Whatever it was, it was adorable.

Souji’s gaze flitted across the full page, his breaths growing more shallow as he took it all in: Izanagi and Jiraiya doing cool(?) action poses next to each other, a bento box that looked very much like the ones Souji used to prepare for Yosuke every day, a half-melted snowman wearing Souji’s grey scarf and Nanako’s Loveline hat, a Mega Beef Bowl from Aiya’s and stick figure versions of all their friends drowning in it… 

It took Souji a minute to realize it, but every single doodle across the page was somehow related to himself, and the memories he and Yosuke shared together. 

In the bottom corner of the page, one doodle was squeezed in that must have been the last one Yosuke drew. It was the two of them standing side-by-side in front of a house (but it didn’t look like any house that Souji recognized?) with their arms around each other’s shoulders. They were wearing big happy faces, and one of Yosuke’s arms was in the air, as if he was waving. 

The circular sun with squiggly rays coming out of it was in the sky above them, smiling and wearing sunglasses, ironically. There was a thing in front of the house that Souji didn’t recognize at first until he saw the bike next to it; it was a half-pipe. 

Then Souji squinted at another part of the doodle and zoomed in on the image, not quite believing his eyes.

In the front window of the house, there was a cat peeking through, big and fluffy just like Souji liked. 

Was that supposed to be… their house? 

“No way,” Souji whispered to himself.

Then he scrolled down to the caption and completely lost his breath. 

“I think of you too.” 

And with that, Souji’s fate was sealed—he was going to be thinking about Yosuke—his Partner who he was in love with (who thought about him too!)—nonstop for the rest of his life.