#ANYWAY my great great aunt is still alive so that’s news to me

[finniestoncrane]

my mum’s messages are so intense they’re a full paragraph with no punctuation and three-four pieces of unrelated news intertwined with concerning notes about her mental health and the structure is always like

“need to buy gloss for gran’s house because she wants to redecorate it in the same colour you were getting she’s no copying you though she had planned it before just a coincidence it’s freezing here as well we’ve had the heating on all day I hate winter and I’m no doing Christmas this year I canny be bothered your great great aunt is in the hospital waiting to die gran was up seeing her today do you remember her need new ideas for presents too because gran stole mine hahaha”

plus she’s rampantly spelling things her own way so there’s the added fun of deciphering like it’s a code puzzle!!

[theshipsfirstmate]

Bridgerton Fic (Francesca/John): Sometimes I Feel So Insecure

(Francesca/John, T, wc: 3,802 -- AO3)

modern/college AU. Francesca and John are grad students, who meet in a practice room and find their own kind of harmony.

The very first time she meets him, it feels both wholly mundane and utterly life-changing.

Mundane because Francesca's sequestered herself inside a piano practice room on the ground floor of the music building — the type of space she's become intimately familiar with throughout four years of undergrad and nearly a year so far of her graduate program.

Life-changing in part because she just about loses her own, jumping out of her skin as the door bangs open, interrupting her fourth go-round on the Schubert she's been considering for her master's recital.

"I'm sorry…" The first thing she notices is his accent. There are more than a handful of international students among the post-grad set at Ithaca College, but still, she's used to being surrounded by the Boston and New York/New Jersey affectations that make up much of the student body. But he sounds like home, or something close to it, anyway.

The second thing she notices is his eyes. He has a handsome face, certainly — a strong jaw and brow, a mouth that curves up at the corners, like smiling comes easy — but it's something in the eyes that nearly makes her breath catch. They look kind, warm, and maybe … maybe something more.

The third thing she notices, too late, is that she hasn't yet spoken. After another second or so of unbroken eye contact, he seems to finally notice too.

"Sorry, I- I know I'm a few minutes late..." He checks his watch, "But I believe I had this room reserved."

He's wrong, Francesca is sure of it. But for whatever reason — whatever mutation she's had since birth that takes the notorious Bridgerton affability and twists it into awkward silence and social anxiety — she doesn't bother to correct him. She just stands quickly and grabs at her sheet music, hoping to leave before the fire rising in her cheeks burns her alive.

"I'm sorry," she says, trying desperately to force some courage into her voice. "I thought… I - I'll leave you to it."

He seems to become a bit frantic when he notices her discomfort, turning back towards the door. "Uh, I-I'm happy to go check with the scheduler. It's possible I've got my rooms mixed up."

"No, it's fine. I'm sorry," she adds again, even more unnecessarily this time. "Enjoy the, um, enjoy the room...."

_____________

She's fretting over the Vallée d'Obermann when she sees him next, and that certainly doesn't help her mood.

At least this time he knocks softly before he enters, with a smile inexplicably directed at her. At least this time she has a slightly longer moment to prepare herself for his handsome face.

Unfortunately, it doesn't help that much.

"I triple checked!" she insists, louder than she intends, before he can even get a word out. 

"No, no, no," he replies quickly, and for whatever reason, he's still grinning. "Don't worry. I checked the schedule this time, too."

"So you know I have this room," she protests, weaker now. "You're not here to throw me out again?"

"No! Yes. I…" He sighs. "I'm going about this all wrong."

She waits. His frustratingly handsome face is suddenly so earnest that she has to clasp her hands together tightly and fidget her fingers into knots in order to distract herself.

"I just came to apologize," he says, " Francesca ."

Oh .

It would seem there’s still a type of music left in this world that she hasn't heard before.

She stammers for a moment, working through a thought process that's suddenly gone terribly hazy. "You… you checked the schedule."

"It’s a beautiful name," he confirms, with a half-smile, and… my goodness . "I had a great aunt Francesca. I think they called her 'Fancy,' for short."

Her nose wrinkles at the moniker, but when she follows it by nervously smoothing her hands over the pleats in her perfectly-ironed skirt, she watches his mouth twist wryly.

She clears her throat, hoping to find a modicum of composure somewhere in her voice box. "And you are?"

"Nothing so fancy ," he teases. “John. John Stirling.”

She reaches out to shake his hand before considering the implications. Large, warm, secure but not controlling. She holds it maybe too long, but he just smiles again and her breathing goes all wispy…again.

"You were on to the Lizst this time," he observes as they finally let go. “I like the Schubert better. More heart, I think.”

"I don’t think I fully understand it," she admits on a mumble, shaking her head as if to clear it. "The Vallée, I mean.”

He tilts his head in curiosity, and so she continues. "I'm thinking of changing it out for a Beethoven. But at this rate, I won’t have a masters recital to speak of…"

At this, he takes a step back, and lets out a scoff. It's the first time he's ever seemed less than entirely friendly.

"Well, you’re better off than me," he mumbles, running a hand over his face. "Can't get a masters in composition with writer's block."

"Wouldn’t that be composer's block?"

He gives her a bit more of a laugh than it deserves, and that's the moment she really notices how he looks sort of sad today. There’s something else underneath that pall, too, a level of anxiety that she hadn't had time to examine when she last saw him.

He's stepped far enough away that she can see how the stress makes him rigid. Even his smiles look somewhat fragile, though she has to admit they've still succeeded in warming her.

She wants to help, she realizes. She barely knows the man, but she wants to make him feel better, to ease some of his tension.

(Really, what she wants to do is hold his hand again, but she's fairly certain that won't help matters at all.)

"Since you’re here," she offers slowly. "Can I… Could I play you something?"

His eyes snap up from where they'd been fixed at his feet, and the gaze is too reverent to take in for too long.

So she just keeps talking. "Only if you want, I mean. Of course."

He grins again at her rambling and it looks better, more assured, more real . Suddenly, she needs to know.

“What's your favorite?"

"You'll think me simple."

She just offers a half-smile, lips pursed, until he concedes.

"'Clair de Lune.'"

Tears burn suddenly at the base of her throat. Mercifully, they're happy ones, so she tries to make herself smile wider, to put him at ease.

"You won’t judge me for it?"

"Not at all," she confesses. Even if she were the sort of snob who would, "It’s my eldest brother's favorite, as well."

John simply raises his eyebrows. He's making a habit of that, it seems, giving her space in conversation that others so rarely offer.

"He used to say that everything I played was his favorite," she recalls with a roll of her eyes. "He’s a good sort of brother like that."

"But I made him pick, before his wedding," she continues, still a little misty at the memory, "so I could give him his gift."

"Eldest, you said?"

"I have four brothers — three older, one younger," she explains, thinking of them fondly — the elder trio she grew up in awe of, and then little baby Greggy.

"Goodness — five of you," John remarks.

"Eight, actually," she clarifies. "Four of each."

And Francesca, as a general rule, doesn’t like attention — but it is always a bit enjoyable to watch people take that in.

" Eight ??"

_____________

They hadn't wanted her to go so far away for her studies.

They hadn’t wanted her to go to Ithaca, to leave England at all after she’d conceded to doing her undergrad in London.

"You've already started to establish yourself."

"It's the middle of nowhere!"

"Two years at least without a proper Sunday roast??"

"It's so far, Francesca," her mother had finally lamented, with tears in her eyes. "What if you need us?"

It was a confusing combination of words but one Francesca knew not to question after all this time. Not aloud, anyway.

She loves her family, to be sure. But she's lived more than 20 years as the quietest Bridgerton, and she likes to think she's become quite self-sufficient in all that time.

Of course, she understands that she needs her family in that abstract way that anyone does — the way they’ve made her who she is, the way that they've never asked her to be anyone else.

But the way her mother spoke of it, she wasn't quite sure at the time that it was something she understood. 

Not yet, anyway.

_____________

"It’s just my mum and I," Michael offers, once he's finished sputtering over the size of her family. "She moved to New York with me. Not- not with me , with me, I should say."

She likes him best like this, Francesca thinks. A little flustered, a little like he might know what it feels like to move through life with a colony of butterflies who have made their happy home in the space just behind your rib cage.

"She has an apartment in the city," he explains. "I take the train down to see her every few weeks or so." 

"That's nice," she finally concedes, genuinely. "It's nice that she's close."

He nods. "Some have also said that my cousin Michael and I are as close as brothers, but having no frame of reference…"

He pauses and smiles carefully, as if she'll take offense to the comparison. She doesn't.

"I think closeness can be largely subjective."

His smile quickly turns itself the other way around. "You don’t get along with your siblings?”

"It’s not that," she promises, fast and guilty. "I’m just… different… from all of them. It’s always been that way. It’s a happy house, but it’s so…"

" Loud ," he muses, somehow understanding in an instant. "And you prefer the quiet."

Yes. That’s it exactly.

There might be so much more he’d understand. But each time he hesitates with her, Francesca is reminded that, in order to be accepted, you have to make an offer.

And so she turns away and plays him his piece, holds back her tears when she thinks of her eldest brother — happier than she’s ever seen him —  and watches as an invisible weight seems to lift off of John’s shoulders.

When she's done, he offers her a new smile, one that fills their special silence better than any applause or acclaim ever could.

_____________

It takes her about a week after that — maybe a little more.

This time, Francesca seeks him out in what she’s suddenly come to think of as their room. It’s an odd hour for practice, and she breathes a quick sigh of relief when she realizes she was right. He's here.

In fact, he's standing in a corner of the room with a violin, playing her very favorite Rachmaninoff with his eyes closed tight.

She can tell by the case that the instrument is a rental, but she thinks that no one would ever know by how he holds it, by how beautiful he looks when he makes the strings tremble across the soaring melody.

In an instant, Francesca braces herself for the boldest move she’s ever made. She thinks of her siblings, of how much they’ve risked for what they call love, and she opens the door as quietly as she can.

She holds the handle until it shuts and creeps across the floor, to the shabby standup piano in the other corner of the room. When he hits a measure she’s known by heart since she was 11 years old, she joins him.

John falters for only a fraction of a second —  the untrained ear wouldn’t be able to hear it. 

But then his eyes flash open and he turns to her, smiling so wide, but never missing even an eighth note.

They finish the movement and she stands, suddenly so unsure of herself once again.

“That’s one of my favorites as well,” she admits. “Though once, when I played it at home, my brother Benedict identified it as ‘that Celine Dion song.’”

At this, he laughs, actually laughs, and she finds herself determined to hear that particular sound again, in every key.

“He is perhaps the next most artistic of the bunch,” she concedes. “But the visual arts are definitely more his forte. Music, not so much…”

“ Francesca ,” John says simply, still smiling at her, and she wonders what kind of theory he’s studied that he can still make her name sound like that .

She takes the few steps to reach him, and, in perfect step, he gently sets the violin down just in time to catch her as she wraps herself in his arms, pressing up to her tiptoes to capture his lips, reveling in the knowledge that even the noises from the backs of their throats sound in harmony.

_____________

After that, they simply… find their way together. Measure for measure.

He waits for her after rehearsals, a takeaway cup of tea in both hands. She finds him wrestling one instrument or another in their favorite practice room and persuades him to take enough time away from the crumpled composition sheets to eat some dinner. He drives her home, coasting down South Hill to her apartment on the Commons, walking her to her door and bidding her goodnight with kisses that range from chaste to positively fervent.

The first time he spends the night, it's the opposite of sordid. They're both exhausted after a 16-hour day of rehearsals, lectures, lessons, grad assistant work and whatever else, and by the time they get to her door, John looks absolutely ready to wilt.

"Just, come inside," Francesca insists, nerves overridden by the sheer need she feels to not let him get back behind the wheel.

When they finally wake, in the late morning of the next day, however, she's immediately aware of their state of dress. Or rather, lack thereof. 

John had stripped to an undershirt and boxer-briefs before they crawled beneath the covers — at her insistence, somehow. She’d composed herself only a little more in order to change into a silky pajama set that she’s never thought of as sensual until this exact moment.

Tangled up as they've become through the night, it’s like she can feel him everywhere — and, strangely enough, it doesn’t make her skin crawl.

His arms are wrapped around her waist. She has one hand on the side of his neck and one pressed against his chest, and so she can feel the thrum of his body when he truly wakes. And she decides to be bold once again.

“Good morning,” she whispers, sleep-soaked and just a little raspy.

"Good morning, Fancy," he answers, kissing her nose as it wrinkles in distaste — like he’d planned it.

The heat she’s felt, watching his hands glide over a keyboard, it's nothing compared to the way it feels to have them against her skin. Calloused fingers caress up and down her rib cage as they press infinitely closer for the kind of kiss they’ve never shared before.

This is the magic, she thinks. This is what her siblings have unabashedly waxed poetic about, ever since Daphne went and fell for Anthony's best mate.

She likes it, she loves it, Francesca realizes with a start. In fact, if she thinks hard enough about it — or maybe not at all — she might find herself needing it.

_____________

By the time she's ready to fully spiral out on a cyclone of confusing emotions, she finds a grounding presence amid the members of her family. It's funny how that always seems to happen.

Anthony's flown to the city for work, and he's brought Kate, who's eager to travel as much as possible before her third trimester puts her on lockdown. In typical big brother fashion, he bullies "his Frannie" — as kindly as possible, of course — to take the train down and join them for dinner. 

She’s quiet throughout the meal, but her usually doting eldest brother — hassled over his day of meetings and harried over worrying about his pregnant wife — doesn't fully seem to notice. She's always been quiet, after all.

But Kate's eye on her sharpens throughout their dinner, until finally, she tells Anthony to go order his last drink at the bar, brushing off his questioning eyes in a way that’s never once worked on her brother before.

Her sister-in-law waits until her husband is out of earshot to finally ask.

"So, what's going on?"

"Nothing!" Francesca can hear it, the manic tone that raises Kate's eyebrow instantly, and knows she's caught.

So, she simply sighs and answers honestly. "It's complicated.”

"With you, it always is, Frannie," Kate responds, all concern and no annoyance. "But this seems like something you need to get off your chest sooner rather than later."

Francesca fumbles for the words, her head making each explanation sound less meaningful than her heart needs them to be.

"I met someone," she admits simply, hoping that her astute sister-in-law can read the rest of the swirling turmoil in her eyes.  

“He — he offered to come with me tonight, if I wanted. His mother lives in Manhattan,” she offers in reprise.

Kate takes what feels like an eternity to mull that over.

"Do you miss him?" she asks finally. "Tonight, coming to the city alone — did it leave you… wanting him?"

Francesca nods, even before she knows she wants to, and Kate matches it with a watery expression.

"Sorry to say, but…"

"But it's not the right time!” she blurts out, having failed once more to keep her true feelings in the bottle where they belong. “It’s the perfectly wrong time!"

“Why?”

“We’re just…” Francesca actually hears herself trail off as every argument fades away to the memory of the way it felt to be pressed against John in her too-small bed, in her tiny apartment, as their symphony echoed off the walls.

“These next years coming up are so important for both of us. For our careers, for our art,” she finally protests. “We have to focus and... I can’t. Not entirely.”

"Sorry again, on that count…." 

Francesca has always admired Kate’s no-nonsense attitude until this exact moment.

She counts the measures of silence until…

“Frannie, you should know that no one understands better than me how hard it can be to fall in love at exactly the wrong time.”

Francesca remembers the rumblings about the drama of a blind date Anthony went on with Kate’s sister, the months the two of them spent bickering and pining, until finally the Bridgertons started placing wagers on when they would finally get their act together.

To see them look at one another now, it’s impossible to think that there was ever a time when the both of them weren’t absolutely sure.

But then, here’s Kate, assuring her that it can happen this way.

And she has no idea what to think.

"Unfortunately, you can't just wish it away," her sister-in-law offers softly. "And if it's real, it'll be worth every complication."

Anthony returns then, of course he does, and Francesca knows he can’t help mirroring the anxious expressions they struggle to hide as he shuffles them out of the restaurant onto the dewy spring avenues.

Their car approaches, and suddenly she knows how important it is to thank Kate for the gift she’s given her tonight — even though she can already see how she’ll spend her train ride north shredding the metaphorical wrapping to confetti, wishing that, just for once, she could be a normal Bridgerton, with a blustering sense of herself and the confidence to look life in the eye.

"You're gonna be fine, Frannie," Kate promises, with a fond glance over to Anthony, before she leans in to whisper. "That look on your face when you talked about him? That was all I needed to see."

Is there a world, she wonders, where it gets to be that easy?

_____________

Somehow, John is waiting for her at the train station when she returns —  even though Francesca’s quite certain she didn’t tell him which one she’d be on.

"Hiya, Fancy," he says with that grin, and instantly it’s so easy to forget how many times she's tried to hide herself away from the potential of heartbreak.

“Hi, you,” she answers, matching his smile and then his lips, threading an arm through his, not realizing that he’s about to take an ice pick to the rest of her self doubt.

The music building is supposed to be locked after midnight. Yet somehow, tonight, John has a key. He leads her by hand to that very same practice room, the one where he barged in on her — what feels like it might have been a lifetime ago.

He sits her at the piano bench, places a bundle of sheet music on the rack, and something stirs deep inside of her when she recognizes his writing on the pages.

A gasp. "Composer's block?" 

"Gone. I think I had just the inspiration I needed." 

They smile at one another, brief and almost blinding, before she turns back to the page. But then, she thinks, maybe this is the moment.

"John, I…"

And she freezes. The the words won't come. There are so many ways this could go, and yet, in the moment, her traitorous mind can only imagine the scenarios that end in heartbreak. It’s not the time, he’s not the one, she’s not built for a love like this…

She turns back, helpless, only to find nothing but those eyes — the ones she fell in love with before she ever knew what was happening.

" Francesca ." Her name again, a complete stanza off his lips. "Please, just play it."

She does, turning back to the keys — back to the home she knows better than any other — and starting in with gusto.

It's beautiful .

She realizes after just a few measures that she knows him well enough now to hear him in the composition, to see his smile in the swell of the melody, his kind encouragement in the way the movements ebb and flow.

And then, there. 

At the beginning of the third, the piano line that he’ll hide just under the strings. 

A variation on the Rachmaninoff. Too complex for an untrained musician, but it's suddenly all she can hear. 

It's so beautiful .

And so is he. And so are they. And all she has to do is allow it.

The most beautiful thing of all, it turns out, is when she finishes, and absently flips back to read what he ended up titling the piece — a detail she'd admittedly, blindly skipped over in her haste to hear it out loud.

And there it is.

Fancy, My Love

_____________ _____________

(p.s. full credit to this TikTok for inspiring that one scene)

[mastercherry]

This is for my Sterek friends.

An AU idea where 1. The Hale family is still alive. 2. Werewolves are known by the general public but there's still some fear and prejudices against them as "violent" and "dangerous". 3. Stiles is an actor. 4. Derek is a stunt man.

So here's the idea. Stiles is a popular actor. He loves it and he's signed on with a new action movie based off one of his favorite book series. In doing so, he's asked to start working on his stunt ability as the director is a big fan of his actors doing at least some of their own stunts if they can. Safely, of course. (The director is a cool dude fyi)

Anyways, this is how Stiles and Derek meet. Derek Hale is one of the best stunt people out there. He also offers up training to people. However, he has a very strict rule against dating clients. It's messy. He has a bad history of it.

Well, they have some great chemistry together. And suddenly Derek's rules are a little hard to follow. He really likes Stiles. But what he likes most about Stiles is that he actually respects Derek's rules. He takes his training seriously. He might smell a little aroused a lot of the time, but he never tries to push it on Derek or make it uncomfortable for him.

Long story short, they do eventually start dating when Stiles starts working with another stunt person from Derek's team, Erica (Yes, her and Boyd are alive. Fight me)

Stiles wraps up the movie. He finally has time to go home and see his dad. He finds out that Derek's family actually loves out there too. What a small world! They end up both going back home and meeting each others' families.

And here's the part that made me think up this whole prompt. Stiles gets to meet Derek's family. It's huge. Mom, dad, uncle, aunt, cousin, 3 sisters, 4 brothers there's a lot of people there. At one point Stiles has been cornered by Derek's dad and his sisters to look at old pictures and film of him throughout the years. They tell Stiles that Derek always dreamed of being an actor. And how good he was at it. But werewolves never really get what they want. They're basically only sought out for stunts or villains. If they're even hired at all.

And Stiles? He really starts to see what werewolves are going through. He's never even really noticed before. How could he have been so blind? So many things start making so much since to him.

Blah blah blah. Stuff happens. Drama.

Stiles decides to do an independent movie with an all werewolf cast. He starts speaking out against werewolf hate. The movie? A HUGE hit. And stuff. Idk.

My whole idea was Derek wanted to be an actor but because he's a werewolf he can only really just do stunts because people such. Fill in the blanks with whatever you want.

OH SNAP. I remember what even made me think of this. All Too Well (10 minute version) by Taylor Swift 🤣🤣🤣 hearing about her dating that actor and meeting his family and stuff. Idk it made me think of a sterek prompt LOL

[eyeofnewtblog]

This is Noni cat, and I got her 8 years ago from the shelter. They told me she was maybe six years old when I swiped my credit card for her.

She’s been a pretty active cat for at least the last 6 years; when I was living alone with just Noni as my roommate, she would jump out of my open 3 story window down to the second story window and demand food and pets, which my neighbor was happy to provide. Luckily he only had to do this once, but I was still mortified (especially since I was living in a no pets place and passing off my adoption of a cat as “my coworker is going through a divorce and asked me to watch his cat for a few weeks so that his ex didn’t cause more trouble” and all my neighbors were single older men, and I worked in a motorcycle place with 90% male coworkers so it honestly did fly under the radar…the only reason I was able to get her at all was because I did laundry/cleaning for one of my single coworkers for a week and put his number down as my landlord and he was like “yes, she can get a kitty, she’s done a really good job of keeping things clean and being responsible, I trust her.” FYI, I was also taking his dog on play dates at the doggie park down the street from me on my days off just for my own amusement, so like. He wasn’t my actual landlord but he also wasn’t lying about my ability to take care of an animal.)

Anyway, the only reason I ever ended up with Noni was because on my second date with my now husband I said I didn’t know if I wanted to buy a cat or a gun, and he and I spent 8 hours just bumming around all the pet places and gun shops that we both knew about (and meeting my aunt and grandparents because they live just up the street from one of the best pawnshops in the area, I “have some mail I need to pick up right quick, it’s just a five minute detour” and oh my goodness…you know that feeling when you see your family immediately like the person you’re dating? Yeah.)

So after husband and I move in together but before anything is official…there is a wildly out of control feral cat population in the area his apartment was in. Noni cat was fine, because she only ever hung out in the front or back yard, but the lady two houses up would put out multiple trays of food for 30+ cats. She was very sweet but also wasn’t trapping and spaying/neutering them, and we didn’t have any central ac (so doors open and fans on, we die like men, sleep with ice packs, and scrub the mud daughter nests out with dawn dish soap), so every summer, about once a week, I’d hear typical cat fighting noises, and go charging out to the living room where some random cat had Noni cornered. I stomp and shout and chase the stay cat out, Noni cuddles me for ten minutes in gratitude before the heat is too much for both of us, we move on.

Then me and husband buy a house in 2018. We move into our new suburban paradise, but alas…Noni cat is a straight up gangster cat, right out of Commerce City.

In all the years we have lived in this house, Noni cat has left a minimum of ten bunny corpses on the front lawn. Per summer.

I love her, I really do. And I recognize that cats should be indoor pets, for environmental reasons. But I legit cried when she brought a still alive baby bunny to the door (with every intention of eating it as is on the living room floor) and she accidentally dropped it and it tried to run away and instead of doing anything productive I just went inside and cried to my husband. Who laughed at me, rightfully so.

Anyway, she’s getting older now, and there’s definitely something wrong with her. She didn’t murder any baby bunnies at all this summer, got “old cat skinny and bony” and honestly refuses to go outside at all. She was always super cuddly during winter because cats like warm things, but now she wants cuddles and attention all the time.

With me starting a new job, I don’t necessarily have the money to get her fully checked out. I want to, she isn’t just a great cat, she’s the only cat my husband has ever liked; she’s wonderful and worth every penny, but fuck are we in a tight spot with his medical stuff and me having three jobs in the last 18 months. There’s no fucking ROOM on the credit cards to take care of her.

Husband found a vet that charges a lot less, but is an hour outside of town. What we save in vet bills we spend in gas to get there.

I don’t really have a point I’m leading up to, or a critical argument or analysis…my cat is dying and it fucking sucks on so many levels, because she was so instrumental in how I got where I am.

I just wanted to tell her/my story and have it be shared with random strangers who might have an interest.

[tiajk]

This is part 2 of sully sister where u tech them how to surf @missroro

A/n: this was made in a span of 5 minutes I’m sorry if my grammars wrong

Warnings: fluff, Jake being nice to the kids, sibling crack, probably spilled thugs wrong

⁃ so today the kids as well as you and Jake didn’t have training so u guys were chilling

⁃ You gouts were on the beach and you thought back to when u were on earth u jack had his legs tommy was still alive and you guys used to surf all the time living in California

⁃ Your daughter was sitting next to you and she noticed you were out of it like in your own thoughts so she asked u if u were okay “yeah baby just thinking about when I was your age”

⁃ She asked you to further explain and you told her when you guys used to surf and Jake cut in saying he was the best at it even though he knew damn well that was a lie

⁃ So you brought up the idea of saying “why don’t I tech u kids how to surf” all of them Jake and your kids agreed so you went to go try and make a board or something that would keep you in the water and sting enough against the waves

⁃ You went to ronal and she led u to her mauri and she asked if these things she had (news flash they were surf boards) and there enough for all of you but you grabbed them Jake asked if you needed help and you looked up at him and went “when we were kids you forced me to grab it myself so no I don’t need your help Jake Anthony sully” (for some reason I cannon that’s his middle name)

⁃ He just left you alone but tuk asked to help you and you couldn’t deny her the kids were just playing in the water and you called them for there attention

⁃ Your words being “alright kids who’s ready to surf” you and Jake slept up since tuk was a little to small she would be with Jake while they ride the kids were a bit confused because they didn’t know how this thing worked

⁃ You took your son daughter and Lo’ak Jake took Neteyam, tuk and Kiri

⁃ As you were explaining how to get in the board you fell off the board which had Jake laughing his ass off and you splashing water at him

⁃ Drabble about this ^ you were teaching the kids how to get on the board giving them a brief demonstration of the parts of the board where to put your feet etc when you went and demonstrated how to get one your foot missed the board by a bit and you fell off the board you got back up quickly though the water was in your lungs from your unexpected fall you think a deep breath as you re-surfaced you could hear better that’s for sure and you heard your either laughing his ass off your glared at him “what so funny Jake” “oh nothing just the great y/n fell of a surfboard” you rolled your eyes you had loved to win something that hour brother knew it. Had it be the smallest thing but you would win so you splashed water in his direction you waited for the water to fall to see his face his reaction the answer to it was shock he was shocked and you smirked then he said to you “oh it’s on”

⁃ But anyways after the water war between your brother (u decide who’s wins) you actually taught the kids letting them go into action u guys swam to a spot for you to all practice after Jake was done with his side kids so u guys went and practiced

⁃ It was nice for Jake to be so lay back and chill with the kids you guys had just finished for the day until Lo’ak said “i bet y/n could beat dad if they raced” Jake looked at him like he was crazy “no way I’m so much better than your aunt” you laughed “you better than me yeah okay you wish” “is that a challenge sis” you smirked “oh you bet your ass it is”

⁃ Then u guys raced (you can decide who wins) but it was about to be eclipse the kids where infront of you jake had his jar in your shoulder and yours on his waist it was like when you were kids you missed those days but the ones you had know were worth it

⁃ “Jake” you called out to him “yeah sis” you looked up at him “thank you” “for what” “being my brother and being there for me” (DONT MIND ME PUTTING MY FAMILY ISSUES INTO THIS)

Lmk how y’all liked it

End <3

[ghostbustermelanieking]

The V Word

(an original horror short story)

My new teacher wants me to go and talk to the School Counselor. His name is Dr. Judson. She says he can make me feel better about what happened, about That Night. “He makes a lot of people feel better,” she says, crouching down to look me in the eye. “You can tell him all about how much you miss your mommy and daddy, and he’ll listen to everything you have to say.”

My new teacher thinks Mommy and Daddy are dead. So will Dr. Judson. So does everyone except Daniel (my big brother), and Great-Aunt. I know the truth, but I can’t tell it. Daniel wants me to lie.

(“Lying is wrong,” I told him. “It’s against the Twelve Commandments.”

“Ten Commandments,” Daniel said, correcting, and wrinkling his nose ‘cause he doesn’t like church. Or at least he didn’t used to. “And it doesn’t matter, okay, Bobby? God…” He took a deep breath and patted my knee. “God would want us to lie. Okay?” And I didn’t understand it at all, because why would God ever want that?)

Teacher takes me to Dr. Judson. His office is nice and full of toys. He lets me color when we talk. I color a picture of my family, the way it used to be. Mommy and Daddy and Daniel and me, and just to be nice, I put Great-Aunt Florence in there, too, even though she didn’t live with us before. She’s nice. I tell Dr. Judson that maybe she can live with us when things go back to normal.

“Normal?” Dr. says. “What’s normal, buddy?”

“Normal is when we’re all a family again,” I say. I give me and Daniel big, red smiles. “We can all live together and be happy. Florence doesn’t usually live with us, but I think she can anyways, when Mommy and Daddy come back.”

Dr. frowns a little, but then he smiles again. He bends down to look me in the eye and he says, “Bobby, I want to tell you something important. Something I want you to remember. Your family can be anyone you want it to be. Anyone in the world. Sometimes family can be our friends. It can be our parents, or our grandparents, or our siblings… And your family can just be you and your brother and Aunt Florence. And that’s okay.”

“No. It HAS to be Mommy and Daddy, too.” I chew on the black crayon.

Dr. Judson takes it away. “Don’t chew on that. Bobby…” He sighs real big. “Bobby, I know this is hard to understand, but… Your mommy and daddy aren’t coming back.”

“Yes, they are,” I say. “You don’t believe me, but that’s okay. Daniel doesn’t believe me either. But I know they will.”

“Bobby…”

“They aren’t dead,” I say. “I know all ‘bout dead. Grampy died last year, and I went to his funeral, and we had to say goodbye forever, and it was so sad. But Daddy isn’t gone forever. Mommy, either. They said they’d come back. They’ll come back and find me.”

I color in Daddy’s teeth with my best white crayon. I make them as big and white as they are for real.

---

When Daniel picks me up from school and I tell him about Dr., he is mad. He pretends he isn’t, because he doesn’t like to get mad at me like he used to, but I can tell he is. His face gets like it did when he yelled at me for going in his room. He counts to ten so quiet he thinks I can’t hear, and then he says, “Bobby…”

“Huh?” I kick the dashboard.

He doesn’t yell at me for that, either. “Bobby, I told you. You can’t tell people about what happened That Night. And… you can’t tell people that Dad and Janet aren’t dead.”

“But they aren’t.” I stretch aren’t out really long, like bubble gum. Aaaarrrrrren’t. “You KNOW they aren’t, Daniel!”

He sucks in air. “Yes. Yes, I know, and you know, but other people can’t know. They won’t believe us. They won’t believe what happened. And if they think Dad is still alive, they might… they might…”

He sucks in air again, and again. He’s wheezing like Great-Aunt’s vacuum cleaner. He sounds like he is about to cry. I stop kicking the dashboard and look over at him; he looks upset again, but not mad. There’s a difference between upset and mad.

I gulp, and I pat my brother’s arm, and I think, Don’t cry, don’t cry over and over again, like he can hear me, or like that might work. Sometimes, with me, that works.

Daniel doesn’t cry. When he talks again, he leans across and wraps his arms around me, and he says, “It isn’t safe. Okay? No one can know the truth. If they think Dad and Janet are dead, then everyone will leave us alone, and we can stay with Great-Aunt Florence, and we’ll be… we’ll be safe.”

We’d be safe with Mommy and Daddy, too. I know we would be. I wriggle away and shrink down in my seat, and I mumble, “I don’t wanna lie. And they’ll come back soon, anyways, ‘cause they’re not dead.”

Daniel mumbles, too. Almost quiet enough that I don’t hear him, but I do anyways; he says, “I hope they never do.”

---

I love Great-Aunt. I love her because she lets me watch as much TV as I want, and sits right there beside me and watches hours of Spongebob and Fairly Odd Parents and Phineas and Ferb. She hugs me and whispers, “You poor dear,” too much, but that’s okay. She’s just being nice.

Daniel helps me with my homework. He and Great-Aunt talk in the other room when they think I can’t hear because I’m watching TV, but I still hear. Great-Aunt says something about behavioral problems. Daniel says, “It’s not his fault.” Great-Aunt says, “That’s why they want to send him to a counselor.” Daniel says, “Well, it’s no wonder, but it isn’t safe! If they find out… I mean, for Christ’s sake, you barely believed us, Florence!”

Mommy used to say Daniel shouldn’t talk to adults like that. She used to say he was too big for his britches. Great-Aunt doesn’t seem to mind.

Daniel says we should move, and Great-Aunt says, “It’s not that simple.” She says, “You know I love you boys, and I don’t want you to leave, but… are there other options? What about your mother, Daniel?” Daniel says, “Not an option. She isn’t… It’s not an option.”

Great-Aunt says, “I worry. What if they come here?” Daniel says, “They won’t,” but he doesn’t sound like he believes it. Great-Aunt says, “But what if they do?” and she sounds like she might cry.

I don’t want to hear them so I turn up the volume on the TV. Spongebob and Squidward are scared of a ghost with a spatula for a hand. But it isn’t really a ghost at all. They say someone like Nose-for-a-two was flickering the lights. I grab the remote and change the channel.

Daniel and Great-Aunt let me watch TV so long that I fall asleep on the couch. I dream about Daddy. He gives me a big hug, and his arms are nice and cool, like the whoosh of Great-Aunt’s freezer, like the cold breeze outside.

---

Joe at school asks me why I live with my Great-Aunt while we’re playing on the monkey bars. I tell him it’s ‘cause something happened with my Daddy and Mommy and they went somewhere far away. “What happened?” Joe says, and I tell him I don’t know, I only remember a little. I keep asking Daniel questions, but he won’t tell me. Just says not to talk about it.

Yesterday, Dr. Judson wanted to talk about it. He wanted me to talk about That Night. He asked what happened with Mommy and Daddy, if I wanted to tell him why we had to come live with Great-Aunt. Same as Joe.

So I did. I played with one of the Monster Trucks in Dr’s toy chest, running it all around the table, and I talked and talked and talked. I said, “Daddy had been away on a trip. Mommy calls it a bizz-nuss trip. Daniel doesn’t like it when he goes away, ‘cause he doesn’t like Mommy very much. She isn’t his mommy. Just mine. His mommy went away when he was real little and never came back.

“Anyways, Daddy was gone, and Daniel got real upset the night he came back. He came into my room and asked if he could keep me company, and we watched SpongeBob on my TV even though I was ‘posed to be asleep. He was reading this book for school, called Dracula, except he kept putting it down and not reading. And I asked him what was wrong, and he told me about it. He didn’t want to, but I made him. I’m good at bugging. I’m a pest.”

Dr. Judson smiled a little. “What did he tell you?”

“He said Daddy called the house looking for Janet—that’s what he calls Mommy—and he picked up instead. He said Daddy sounded weird. He said that Daddy was coming home early and bringing a buddy from work to see us.” I ran the Monster Truck all around the table and made a growly sound with my mouth.

“Were you excited about that?”

“Yeah! I love my daddy. I love Mommy, too, but me and Daddy have a special bond.” I made my voice all quiet, cause it’s a secret, and Dr. said I could tell him anything I want, and it’ll be a secret just between him and me. “He’s my favorite parent, I think. Like Daniel is my favorite brother. But don’t tell Mommy. I don’t want her to be sad.”

“I won’t,” Dr. promised. He looked at me kinda sad. I smashed two trucks together like a car crash. He said, “What happened next? When your dad came home?”

“He came home while Mommy was still at work. Daniel was reading his stupid school book, but I was done with my homework, so I got to let him in. He had his friend with him, but I didn’t recognize him. He looked funny. Like a ghost or something.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was just real white-looking, like he was sick. And he sounded sick, too. I thought he was sick.” I frowned. “Daddy smelled funny, too. I thought it was maybe the trip. And I wanted Daddy to tell me ‘bout it, but he said later. He said they were gonna have a grown-up dinner with Mommy, and he wanted me to go upstairs til it was done. He said he’d order us pizza and everything. Daniel didn’t wanna go. He and Daddy fought about it. They’re always fighting, and I don’t like it!

“But Daniel went. Daddy said he had to. And I hung out in my room, and watched movies all night, and ate pizza, but Daniel wouldn’t watch with me. He stayed at the top of the stairs all night long. He was spying, I think. Mommy says you shouldn’t spy, it’s impolite.

“Anyways, I fell asleep sometime. I dunno when. Mommy never came up to make me brush my teeth or put on my pajamas. And no one read me a story. But I went to sleep during one of the movies.” I squeezed the Monster Truck hard in my hand, like I was a giant and could crush it into bits. I wished I was, that I could be big and strong like Daniel and Daddy could be.

“And then I woke up,” I whispered. “Daniel woke me up. I heard screaming.”

I couldn’t keep going then. Dr. Judson wanted me to, but he didn’t make me, and I didn’t wanna talk about it. I didn’t want to tell him that the screaming sounded like Mommy. I couldn’t talk about what happened the rest of the night, even though I remember it perfect. Daniel woke me up and made me put a coat on. He picked me up in my PJs, and made me grab Teddy, then he ran for the door. He ran all the way down the stairs. I was still mostly asleep, rubbing my eyes and holding Teddy and asking Daniel what was happening, but he wouldn’t say.

Daddy’s friend was lying on his face in the kitchen. I think he was asleep. And I saw Mommy on the couch, and she was asleep, too, and she had red all over her neck. Daddy was in the hall, sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, wiping his mouth. It looked like he’d been eating spaghetti; his face was messy. “Daddy!” I said. “What’s going on? Are you coming with us?”

“Don’t,” Daniel said, and he was crying. “Bobby, don’t, that’s—that’s not Dad…”

“Don’t be stupid,” I told him, and I tried to get down, but Daniel wouldn’t let me. He squeezed me close. He was holding something in his hand. One of the plastic cross necklaces I got at Vacation Bible School. A green one.

He held it up towards Dad, who just sort of looked at us.

“We’re going away now,” Daniel said. He was holding me too tight. “Don’t—don’t follow us. Don’t you follow us.”

“Son,” said Daddy, and he sounded sick, he sounded as sick as his friend from the trip. He started to reach out towards me, but he made a hissing sound and yanked his hand back.

“We’re going,” Daniel said, and he turned for the door real fast, and I looked over his shoulder to see Daddy, who was watching us leave. He had a weird mark on his forehead that I couldn’t see, but it looked like an ouchie, it looked like it hurt, and he said, “I’ll see you again, buddy. I’ll see you soon…” And buddy is his special nickname for me, so I knew he was talking to me.

I thought up some more stuff to tell Dr. after Daniel picked me up. I wanted to tell him the rest of what happened—I changed my mind. I wanted to tell him about the ouchie on Daddy’s forehead, how it was kind of shaped like my plastic cross. I wanted to tell him about how Daddy’s teeth had gotten bigger, when he came back from his trip.

I don’t tell Joe any of that, though. I hang from the monkey bars and think about how Daddy picked me up and hugged me That Night, and how he sort of smelled like the lucky penny I carried around in preschool last year. (That was my favoritest penny, and Daddy smelled just like it.) He hugged me and whispered in my ear, “You wanna know something, buddy? Tonight, I’m gonna teach you to fly.”

I jump from the monkey bars, throw my arms out, and I fly, just like Daddy.

---

I hear Great-Aunt Florence and Daniel talking at night. Great-Aunt says, “The police—” and Daniel says, “They don’t know—” and Great-Aunt says, “They won’t believe you—” and Daniel says, “Don’t you think I know that?” I pull the covers over my head and cover my ears, but I still hear Aunt Florence say, “Vamp—” and Daniel shout, “Don’t say it! Don’t fucking say it!” I shove my head under the pillow to block out more. That’s a bad word; Mommy yells when Daniel uses it.

I think I know what Great-Aunt was going to say. I heard Daniel say it on the phone, That Morning, when he thought I was asleep. He was telling someone that Daddy was that, the v-word; he said that Daddy got Mommy—Janet, he said—that Janet had hurt Daddy’s work friend, and tried to keep Daddy away, too, because she didn’t want to be a v-word. I asked him what he meant while we were eating donuts in a parking lot; Daniel was all slumped over the wheel, drinking nasty coffee (I hate coffee but it smells good), and when I asked, his eyes got all big, and he said, “Don’t say that, Bobby. Don’t ever say the V word.” So I don’t. And neither does he.

The voices go quiet, and I’m still awake, looking around my room, waiting for someone to put me to bed. My new room is all covered in crosses even though we’re not really Christian. I have my cross necklace from VBS, from when I went with my old best friend, Tanner. Daniel brought us with it That Night. I think these crosses are Great-Aunt Florence’s, though. They’re really nice, nicer than my necklace.

The room stinks, too, like pizza night, but not nice. Daniel put it all together for me when we came here, and I don’t like it. I miss my toys and my Star Wars posters. I miss my night light.

Daniel comes up after the fight and reads me a story. We’re in the middle of The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. I listen, and I play with one of my army men while he reads. (Great-Aunt gave them to me. They used to belong to her husband.) I think about how Lucy and Peter and Susan and Edmund are away from their parents, and they aren’t in the story at all. How Peter is always telling the others what to do, like Daniel does with me.

Daniel finishes a story and kisses me goodnight. He turns off my lamp, so only my new night light is on. I don’t like it cause it’s not as bright as my old one, and it’s not green or shaped like a lightsaber. It makes the room all yellowy and full of shadows. I pull my covers up to my chin. I say a prayer for Mommy and Daddy to come find me, like Tanner’s Sunday School teacher taught us, even though I don’t believe in God.

---

Later, I wake up, cause someone is knock-knock-knocking on my window. I sleep right under the window, but with curtains, so monsters can’t see me. (They’re good curtains. Great-Aunt bought them at the Ikea just for me.)

The knocking scares me at first, and I pull my covers over my head and scrunch down real small.

Tap tap tap. Knock knock knock.

It keeps going. A monster, come to get me. I wish Daddy was here to protect me. I wish Daniel hadn’t taken me away.

I’m about to call out for Daniel when the knocking monster says, “Bobby? Are you there?”

Daddy! It’s Daddy’s voice. I pull the covers back off and sit up to open the curtains, and there’s Daddy, sitting on the roof outside my window, his eyes bright in the dark.

“Daddy!” I press my hand to the glass. “I knew you’d come back!”

Daddy puts his hand on the glass so it’s up against mine and smiles huge. I can see his new big teeth. “Buddy,” he says. “Boy, I’ve missed you. Can you let me in?”

I laugh. “You’re silly, Daddy. Why can’t you go in the door?”

“I can’t get in the door, Bobby.” Daddy sort of sounds mad, like when he’s arguing with Daniel. But he sees me screw up my face like I’m gonna cry (which I feel like I might), and he smiles, and says nice, “Just unlock the window. Can you do that?”

I rub my eyes with my sleeve. “How?”

Daddy points to a thingy on top of the window, like a switch. “Just turn this the other way,” he says. “Then push it up from the bottom. Okay?”

So I do that, with Daddy showing me how. As soon as it’s up, I try to throw myself at Daddy for a hug, but he holds up a hand to stop me. “Can I come in, Bobby?”

I giggle. “Yes, Daddy.” I move back and he crawls in, onto my bed, before he hugs me. I hug him back tight. “Missed you, Daddy.”

“M-missed you, bud.” Daddy is shaking in my arms and making a weird sound, like our cat Socks did when we took him to the vet. “Can… c-can you do me another favor, bud?”

I hold on tighter. “Sure, Daddy.”

He pulls out of the hug, quick, and starts to crawl backwards. He’s moving towards the window. “Get up a-and… take those cr—those cr-cr…”

Maybe he forgot the word. “The crosses?” I help him.

“Yes, son. Pl—please.”

“Okie-dokie.” I get off the bed and pull down the crosses that I can reach. I try to bring them to Daddy, but he shakes his head hard, his teeth chattering. “Put them AWAY,” he says, almost yelling, and I do it fast, shove them under my dresser.

Daddy’s still shivering when I come back up. “Thank you, Bobby,” he says. “Come here.” He holds out his arms, so I go to hug him again. He kisses me on the head. His teeth are sharp. He still smells like my penny.

I still feel a little crying like, from Daddy yelling, and from how much I’ve missed him. “Where did you go? Why didn’t you come sooner? Why did we have to come stay with Great-Aunt Florence?” I wipe my nose on his shirt. “Daniel said you wouldn’t come back. He said it… wasn’t safe…”

Daddy frowns big, big, and I think he’s mad at me again. “Daniel doesn’t understand,” he says, stern. “It’s a grown up thing that he doesn’t understand.”

“Does Great-Aunt understand? She’s a grown-up.”

Daddy’s still frowning. “Listen to me, Bobby. It’s late. And you need to sleep.”

“Aw, Daddy, no…” I whine.

“Yes.” Daddy points to the pillow, so I lie down. He tucks me in, pulling the covers to my chin, and making a face. “It reeks in here.”

“Wait!” I remember something, suddenly, and sit up in bed. “What about Mommy? Is she here, too?”

Daddy’s face softens some. “Yes, she’s here. I’m going to let her in.”

I kick with excitement. “Mommy! I want to see Mommy!”

I try to get out of bed, but Daddy stops me. He pushes me back down. “You’ll see her in a little bit, all right? In… in the morning,” he says. “Right now, I want you to close your eyes and get some rest.”

“I don’t want to!”

“You have to,” he says.

“But wh-hy?”

“Because Mommy and I need to have a talk with Daniel,” he says. “A grown up talk. You can’t come. But when we’re done… we’ll come up and talk to you.” He reaches down to tickle my tummy. “A Bobby talk, just for you.”

I giggle a little, even though I’m still mad. “Can’t sleep,” I say.

“Yes, you can.” Daddy tucks me in again, puts Teddy next to me, and kisses my forehead. “Close your eyes. It will be okay.”

I yawn, even though I don’t want to. “You’ll come back?”

“Of course.”

I believe him, because he’s Daddy. He’s Daddy, and he doesn’t lie.

So I hold Teddy tight and close my eyes and go to sleep, just like he says. I hear Daddy close the door as he leaves, his footsteps going down the hall. I lie there and think about seeing Mommy, think about being a family again, until I fall asleep.

---

Only, I don’t sleep very well. I keep hearing voices, arguing, shouting, like when Mommy and Daddy and Daniel fight after my bedtime. I hear Great-Aunt Florence scream.

The screaming doesn't wake me up, not all the way. It's sort of just like a dream. What wakes me up is Daniel. I hear him shouting my name—Bobby, Bobby—and I hear his footsteps pounding in the hall. Maybe he's coming to get me. I get out of bed and go to open the door. But before I get there, there is a loud thud outside, and Daniel groans. And I hear Mommy's voice, tight, angry, saying, "Don't you dare!"

I whip open the door just as Daniel says, "Janet…" And his eyes bug out when he sees me. "Bobby," he says.

He is lying on the floor and his shirt is all red and wet, and he's trying to crawl across the floor. But Mommy steps in front of him. "Baby," she says, and holds her arms out for a hug.

"Mommy?" I say. I don't let go of the doorknob.

"Bobby… you let them in?" Daniel says behind Mommy. His voice is rough. The red is spilling over his lips when he talks—Blood, I think. Blood. "You let them in? Why—"

"That's enough," Mommy snaps, and then she stomps on Daniel's hand. Daniel cries out. I step a few steps back into my room, whimpering a little and trying not to cry, because I don't know why this is happening. This isn't something Mommy would do. She fights with Daniel all the time, but she’s never stomped on his hand…

I clutch the doorknob and rub my eyes and stare at Mommy and think about what Daniel said That Night: That's not Daddy. And maybe not Mommy either.

"Run," Daniel says. He makes a sound like he's going to throw up. "Bobby, ru—"

"Son. Please." It's Daddy, coming up behind Daniel. He crouches beside Daniel on the floor and puts his hand on his head. "Relax. Just relax. This will all be done soon, and then you'll feel so much better."

Daniel sounds like he's going to cry, too. He's wiggling around like he wants to get away from Daddy, but he isn't moving much at all. Daddy's mouth is red like Daniel's. He wipes it with his sleeve. Bad table manners.

"Daddy?" I whisper. "Mommy? What's going on? What's… what's wrong with Daniel?"

"Buddy, please, everything is…" Daddy sounds impatient. "Jan?" he says to Mommy.

Mommy comes and picks me up before I can decide if I want her to. But she hugs me and says, "Bobby, baby," and it feels good, and I sort of don't mind anymore. She doesn't smell like Mommy, but her hugs feel just the same.

"Mommy?" I say, and I hug her around the neck. "What's wrong with Daniel?"

"He's just sick, honey. He'll feel better in the morning." Mommy kisses my forehead. Her mouth leaves a sticky patch behind. "Come on. I'm going to tell you a bedtime story."

She goes into my room and closes the door behind her. Daniel is still calling my name in the room, but Daddy is shushing him. He must be really sick.

"Where did you go?" I burrow my head into Mommy's neck. She feels cold. "I missed you and Daddy."

"I know, baby." Mommy sets me on the bed and climbs in beside me. "It's all okay now. We found you, and we're going to be a family again."

"Really? You promise, promise?" Daniel must not have known. He doesn't know everything. Mommy says that all the time: You don’t know everything, Daniel. But ever since That Night, Daniel’s known so much.

"I promise, promise." Mommy tucks us both in and pulls me into her lap. She strokes my hair and hums my favorite lullaby, and my eyelids droop, even though I'm not tired at all. "We're going to be a family forever."

"Good," I say.

"We'll never leave you again. Never ever."

"That's what I want." I shut my eyes and cling to Mommy as she pulls me closer. She's holding me like a baby. She rocks me and hums and hums til I feel sleepier than ever before.

I yawn big big, and squeeze my eyes open one more time to look at Mommy and say, "Mommy? Will Daddy really teach me to fly?"

"Of course, baby." Mommy shuts my eyes with her hands and hugs me close. "When you wake up… oh, we'll have so many things to teach you."

It's so so easy to get sleepier and sleepier, to relax and drift off in Mommy's arms. She leans down to kiss me goodnight, kisses me all over my face.

I’m almost asleep when she finds my neck, where her kisses hurt, where they sting like a pinch—like the Doctors always say, Little pinch, or Little ouchie… It is a little ouchie. Almost like a bite.

But I'm not scared. It's just Mommy.

[dessarious]

Guilt and Consequences Pt21

Beginning   Previous  

"So how many times have you been thrown out of schools exactly?" Izzy seemed to be taking this whole thing fairly well, but Lila hesitated.

"Twenty-six." Sabine's eyes widened at the number, but Izzy laughed.

"We're definitely related." At Lila's confused look, Izzy kept going. "I've been thrown out of just about every boarding school in the US and five in Europe. Of course, mine were because of grades more than anything else."

"But you're smart."

"That really doesn't matter when you refuse to do anything but doodle on tests and homework. It was my form of willful disobedience for my grandparents pulling me out of the public school I was in. Not the brightest thing to do, but I was hurting and extremely pissed off about being pulled out of what was left of my life." She frowned at the ceiling. "If not for Aunt Penny, I probably would have done worse."

"Who?" Lila's question made Izzy's eyes light up.

"That's right, you only met her a couple of times when you were really little. She'll be so happy when she hears you're alive. She's Dad's sister. Well, adopted sister, but that's beside the point. I'll text her to see when she's going to be in Paris next."

"That wouldn't happen to be Penny Rolling, would it?" Lila almost choked at the question, but Sabine sounded amused.

"Yes actually, do you know her?" Lila heard laughter and turned to see Chloe and Marinette on the stairs.

"I guess you are actually connected to Jagged Stone, Rossi." Chloe's tone was dry. Lila groaned.

"Alya can't find out about this. It'll just make her more determined to believe I was telling the truth all along." Wait... Jagged and Penny both loved Mari. "She's going to hate me." Izzy just looked confused, but Sabine rolled her eyes.

"No, she won't. You're family, and it's not like you were purposely trying to cause harm."

"Jagged Stone loves Mari just as much as he does Ladybug. There's no way they're going to be okay with me."

"Wait, your daughter is the little designer Penny told me about?" Great, even Izzy knew about Mari's talent. She'd be lucky if Penny even acknowledged her, let alone wanted anything to do with her. Sabine nodded with a proud smile.

"They don't need to know what happened, and it was all a big misunderstanding anyway." Chloe scoffed at Mari's declaration, and Lila just wanted to bash her head into a wall. Mari was the only one who could possibly consider what happened a misunderstanding. Even Izzy was looking at the girl like she had a screw loose.

"I'll talk to Penny and explain things. It will be fine, I promise." Izzy's words should have been comforting, but Lila just felt sick. The fact that she had to be explained to a relation didn't say much for her. "Why don't we head out to get your stuff? We'll worry about the rest when it happens."

"I suppose." Izzy frowned at her and Lila had a feeling she knew that she'd be worrying about it, regardless. When she stood, she pulled Lila with her before turning to Sabine.

"We'll be back later, but I'll probably take Riley out for dinner after we're done, so it won't be quick." The woman just smiled at them.

"Of course. Have fun." The smile Izzy wore worried her. It was more manic than anything else.

——————————————————————

"You're not going to tell me what happened, are you?" Lila had come back into the lobby to find the staff cowering behind their desks while Izzy glared at them from near the doors. She'd rushed her out to the car before Lila could say anything.

"It's nothing you need to worry about." She got into the backseat as the driver held the door. She hadn't expected it, but it made sense that Izzy had a driver. Especially in a place she didn't know well. It still felt weird, especially with the man eyeing them like he expected an explosion. Whatever happened, it must have been loud enough for him to hear it. "You just need to worry about where you want to go to eat after we get you a camera and a new laptop just in case she can track that as well."

"I've been through everything on there and haven't found anything suspicious, but most of my stuff is backed up so it's not a big deal either way." She didn't mention that she hadn't stored anything she considered important on anything but flash drives and SD cards she could hide easily in years.

"I'll keep your old one with me just like your phone, so you'll be able to get whatever you need from it. I just don't want to risk her finding you."

"You really don't need to buy me a new one. I'm sure I can use Marinette's or go to a library if I have to for anything while you get things figured out." Izzy sighed.

"It's not about what you can work with. I want to get you whatever you need or want so that you don't have to go without anymore. Just let me try to assuage my guilt, please." The last part sounded almost desperate, so Lila dropped it. She wasn't certain how to feel about someone spending so much on her, but if it made Izzy feel better it seemed like it would be okay. "You're thinking too hard again. I can see it."

"Is there something wrong with me?" She winced as soon as the words came out. The question had been floating around in her head as long as she could remember, but she hadn't meant for it to come out.

"Why do you think something is wrong with you?" Izzy's tone was off.

"I... I don't understand things I should. Even when I was little, I acted differently from how everyone thought I should."

"Being different doesn't mean something's wrong with you. You see and relate to the world in a way most people don't." Lila could only frown at her. That certainly sounded like something was wrong. Izzy sighed. "Riley, everyone sees the world differently. I see it in terms of how much I can piss off my grandparents. Your friend Marinette sees it in terms of design. Mine is certainly less healthy, but that doesn't make either inherently wrong."

"How do I see it?" It was a stupid question. How was Izzy supposed to know that?

"Why and how." Izzy's words sounded like a statement, not a question, and that just confused Lila more. "You look at everything around you and ask why and how it works. You ask why things are the way they are. You ask how things can be different. It's against your nature to just accept things at face value. It's why it never even occurred to you that lying to those nitwits would backfire."

That was... an interesting theory. It seemed true to a point, but if she wasn't affected by something, or wasn't interested in it, she ignored it. If it became an issue, she'd research it. It was why she'd read so many books on psychology to try to understand the way her mother was with her. It hadn't helped at all, but she did try.

"Would it be easier if I just accepted things?" Izzy frowned at her.

"Easier for who? No, never mind. First, you would go insane if you didn't pick things apart. Second, giving other people the advantage like that is a terrible idea. If you don't look past the surface, it can be dangerous. Look at our father." Lila blinked in confusion at the tone.

"You blame him?"

"I don't want to influence your opinion of him, but all he had to do was look into her actions, or what she was doing with his money. He never did. Misplaced trust is the quickest way to get hurt. Look at Marinette." Lila tried to remember anything from the time before her father died, but there wasn't much.

"I don't remember him spending time with me. I do remember you arguing with him. He always said you were too cynical." Izzy winced.

"He was of the opinion that I didn't like your mother because I was jealous of the time he spent with her, and nothing I said would get him to think otherwise. I think he tried to not spend individual time with you because he thought it would make me angry. If I'd realized that at the time, I would have tried to do something about it."

She didn't know how to respond to that, but luckily they made it to the electronics store. Maybe she could come up with something if she had time to process. The store wasn't bad. She found a nice camera, and Izzy insisted on buying extra lenses for it too. Their computer selection wasn't great, but they had the components to upgrade or build yourself. Lila protested, but Izzy said buying everything she needed to build a desktop would let her get what she wanted (even though Izzy seemed set on getting the most recent and powerful components) and it would give her something to do while she had to hide at Mari's house. Besides, she shouldn't need a laptop until her mother was dealt with and they could get her a new one then. Lila didn't really think she needed two, let alone three, computers, but Izzy seemed so excited about it.

When they finally left, Izzy asked her if she'd figured out where she wanted to eat. Lila mentioned a cafe nearby she wanted to try, just to make sure they didn't end up in some high scale restaurant. She really didn't want to be stared at because they weren't wearing the right clothes, and she'd heard good things about the cafe.

"Lila!" How could her luck possibly be this bad? "Why haven't you been at school?" Seriously? She turned to look at Alya and Nino walking towards her. Alya's older sister was sitting at a table nearby. Fantastic.

"She's transferring to a different one." Alya glared at Izzy and Lila didn't even want to know what was going through her mind. Izzy, on the other hand, seemed to just dismiss the girl.

"Who are you?" The demanding tone just got an eye roll, and Lila could practically see the steam building in Alya's head. She really didn't want to deal with her being Akumatized again.

"Izzy's my sister. If you don't mind, we'd really like to eat in peace." She didn't know where the words came from, or the cold tone, for that matter. Izzy wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. Alya and Nino both just seemed stunned. She tried to walk away before Alya found her voice, but she didn't manage it.

"You don't need to transfer. Whatever Marinette threatened you with, we can help." Lila could only groan and bury her head in Izzy's side. It shouldn't be possible for someone to be this stubborn about something so stupid.

"Oh, you're that classmate." Alya bristled at Izzy's tone but didn't have time to respond. "Look, you really need to drop this. I don't hold out any hope you'll listen to reason, but if you don't stop this nonsense, I'll be sure to get restraining orders for both my sister and Marinette. They don't need all this stress."

"I'm trying to help her." Alya's indignant tone caused Izzy to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"No, you're not. You're trying to prove to yourself that you were right to believe Riley, and that your opinion of Marinette is justified."

"Who's Riley?" Yeah, this was just going to make things more complicated.

"I am. My mother changed my name a long time ago, but I prefer Izzy use the name I was born with." They didn't seem to know what to do with that.

"Why would she change your name?" Nino at least just sounded confused. Lila wished she had an answer for him, but she didn't actually have a clue what her mother's reasoning was.

"It doesn't matter. And it's really not the point." Even Lila could hear how drained she sounded. "I made a huge mistake lying to you all and assuming you'd call me on it, and I own that. But you need to stop blaming Marinette, of all people, for my bad behavior and your ignorance." She only just noticed that Alya's sister had walked over, and she seemed extremely confused.

"What happened with Mari? You never said anything."

"She's been bullying Lila ever since she transferred."

"Marinette? Tiny ball of sunshine that wouldn't stand up for herself over anything, but always helped and stood up for her friends? That Marinette?" Oh thank god, someone else could see the insanity. Alya blinked at her for a moment, as if trying to get her brain to reset.

"She's jealous because Adrien likes Lila more than her." That just got another frown, and Lila fought not to gag at the thought.

"That doesn't sound like her. Didn't she help the model when he wanted to date someone?" That definitely sounded like Mari, but Lila hadn't heard about it. Must have been before she came or while she was out of school.

"That's not the same." She actually stomped her foot when she said it. Rather than responding to her, her sister turned to Lila.

"Was Marinette bullying you?"

"No. I lied, and she called me on it. That was it." Well, that was all Mari did, at least. Alya looked like she was going to argue, but her sister shot her a look and her mouth clamped shut.

"Why don't you two go back and sit down?" Alya pouted, but she and Nino did go back to the table. "I'm Nora." She held out a hand and Lila just blinked at it. Izzy shook it instead.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Izzy, and this is my sister Riley, er, Lila. Have you decided what you want other people to call you by chance?" Lila just shrugged. Nora just seemed to roll with it.

"Did I hear something about restraining orders?" Lila cringed, but Izzy just sighed.

"Look, I know that Riley isn't innocent in all this, but your sister is blatantly refusing to believe she was wrong about her. She's already attacked Marinette once with some of their other classmates and I'm not about to risk it again. That girl has dealt with enough because of this nonsense."

"They did what!?" More than a few patrons side eyed them at Nora shout. "Do you have proof of that?"

"There's a video if you'd like to see it, but as I said, right now, everyone just wants to be done with this. Marinette doesn't want to get anyone in trouble, but neither her mother nor I are going to let this continue. If you can just get your sister to calm down and back off, it would solve a lot of problems. Marinette and Lila are both transferring to a different school and that should be the end of this."

"Mari's transferring over this?" Nora ran a hand down her face. "Alya doesn't do calm, but I'll talk to her and our parents. My mom's been trying to get her to agree to therapy for all the hero chasing she does, but I'll back her up this time. If what you're saying is true, she needs it more than I thought. I would like to see that video though, no offense." Izzy just pulled out her phone. When she'd asked for the video while they were talking earlier, Lila hadn't thought much of it. She certainly hadn't expected to need it so soon.

"Of course." She handed the phone to Nora and Lila just waited. She seemed far too calm, but she developed a twitch in her right cheek as she watched. When she handed the phone back, her expression was blank.

"Thank you. You can tell Madam Cheng that Alya won't be bothering her daughter again."

"I'm sorry." It took her a second for Lila to realize the words came from her. She'd been thinking them since this conversation started, but she hadn't meant to say them. Nora cocked her head in confusion. "None of this would have happened if not for me."

"Alya is old enough to make her own decisions. Regardless of what you told her, her actions were her own and completely unacceptable. Her being so suggestible is another thing we're going to have to address. Thank you for bringing this to our attention." She sounded grim, and Izzy frowned at her.

"You don't seem surprised."

"Tempers run in our family. It's why we've all been Akumatized except mom. My outlet is sports, and we thought Alya's was her blog and running after the heroes. I'm not surprised that this happened, but I can believe she'd do that to Mari, especially after everything she’s done for her."

"Maybe being Akumatized has something to do with." Yet another thought that she didn't expect to come out of her mouth. Nora frowned at her. "It's just that everyone in the class has been Akumatized, except Marinette and Adrien, and they're the only two that know I was lying. Well, Adrien knew because Ladybug called me out in front of him, so maybe not. But maybe being taken over like that leaves people vulnerable to suggestion. It would explain why he tends to go after the same people so much if he basically leaves a door open." Now they were both frowning at her. Nora ended up letting out a bark of laughter.

"Thanks for that thought, kid. Because I didn't have enough to be worried about." Lila opened her mouth to apologize, but Nora put a hand on her shoulder. "It's fine. You might even be right, so that's one more reason to get Alya, and all of us honestly, into therapy. I'll let you get on with your meal." She watched as Nora grabbed Alya and practically dragged her outside, Nino jogging behind to keep up. She looked back at Izzy to find her still frowning at her.

"Is that what you really think is happening?"

"It makes sense logically, but given we're dealing with magic, I don't know. It may just be that he has a limited range or something else entirely as well. I don't have enough information to be certain." Izzy was still frowning at her, but eventually shook her head as if trying to get rid of a thought.

"We'll talk more about this later, but we do need to eat." Lila wasn't certain what else there was to talk about, but she just nodded. "Please tell you you've gotten over your 'I only eat green food' phase." 

Beginning   Previous

Tag List

@readeracctagmepls @aestheticnpoetic @akana-sama @schrodingers25 @runestarchild @paradoxal-occurance @heaven428 @animegirlweeb @deepestobservationwombat @iggy-of-fans @yin-390 @thehufflepuffranger-blog @trippingovermyfeet @misslenamooney @ladybug-182 @zalladane @pale-lady-dreamer @smolplantmum @peachedpocky @bezzy-d @naoryllis @sassakitty @18-fandoms-unite-08 @toodaloo-kangaroo @nobigdealcy

[leennaan]

A/N this is not my art I got it from pinterest all cred to the artist

A/N also posted on my Wattpad: @ leennaan

I am sorry but this is not proofread

@curiousgalacticsoul here is your request. Sorry that it took me so long but some stuff happend. But anyways here it is:

Endgame's battle of Earth is done, Nat's alive. Now romanogers can finally retire from superhero life and life a peaceful life, maybe near pepperony's home

Endgame's battle of Earth is done, Nat's alive. Now romanogers can finally retire from superhero life and life a peaceful life, maybe near pepperony's home

Today was the 15th of June 2024.

Almost one year after the war against Thanos.

It was one of the most scary days in Steve’s life and at the same time one of the best.

If somebody had told him a year ago that they would win and get everybody back he wouldn’t have believed it.

But here he was, standing in front of a big window looking over the big garden they shared with Tony and Pepper. A long table was standing in front of the Stark house. He could see Pepper decorating the table. Tony was running around with little Morgan, his arm better but still not fully functional. He smiled while watching the small family outside, preparing for Morgan’s Birthday-Party.

A knock on the bedroom door interrupted his train of thoughts.

“Steve?! Are you ready? Pepper is probably already waiting for us.”

He smiled as soon as he heard the voice. Natasha was standing in the door, arms crossed and a small smile on her lips.

Every time he looked at her, he couldn’t believe that she was really there.

The few hours he believed she was dead, were the worst of his life.

The moment she walked out of one of Stranges portals, with her signature smirk, would be forever burned into his brain. The relief he felt when she hugged him, after they won, when he could feel that she was truly there and not just an imagination of his brain.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

Natasha was now standing directly in front of him, her arms wrapped around his shoulder.

“Just how lucky I am to be standing here today, with you by my side. All our friends joining us today to celebrate Morgan’s sixth birthday. I love you, Nat.”

He bent down and connected their lips in a sweet kiss.

“I love you too. Now common, we really need to get going.”

Together they walked outside and then the short path over to Peppers and Tony’s house. They greeted the small family and congratulated the little girl.

“Auntie Nat, Uncle Steve!

Look what Daddy got me! “ Morgan was running up to them with full speed, a little robot similar to Dum-E following her.

Steve and Natasha kneeled down to greet Morgan and to look at her new friend.

“Daddy says he had one just like me now. I named him Griffin, after Harry Potters House! Mommy let me watch the first one together with Peter last time he visited and I want to be in Gryffindor just like Harry.” Rambled Morgan.

She looked cute like that.

“He looks really nice! Griffin is such a good name for your little friend!” Sayed Natasha while she hugged the girl. Griffin standing next to them watching their interaction.

“Uhh I really enjoyed watching Harry Potter when I watched it with Nat. Next time you visited we should watch the second Movie if your Mother allows.”

“Oh yay! Can we? I am going to ask Mummy right away!”

And before either of the two adults could say anything else, Morgan was running away on her search for her Mother.

Steve stood up from his crouching position and held out his hand to help Nat up.

“Come on, let’s great the others.”

While the couple chatted with the birthday girl, some of the others arrived.

Wanda and Vision where standing with Pepper, a big wrapped box in Wandas hands. Morgan was running up to them happy, to see another aunt and kind of uncle of hers.

Clint, Laura and the kids had just arrived and where now walking the path down to them. “Auntie Nat! Uncle Steve! I missed you sooo sooo much!” Nathaniel was the first who spotted them and flung himself into Steve’s arms, who catched him and hoisted him up on his hip.

“We missed you too buddy! How is school? You have to tell me everything!”

While they talked almost everyone else arrived and the birthday party was in full swing.

Around noon it was time for the cake. Everyone was seated around the table, talking and having fun.

Steve had his arm slung around Natasha’s shoulders, while she was talking to Wanda.

He was so happy, that everything turned out like this. That they could be sitting here together as one big family, celebrating Morgan’s Birthday and just enjoying life. But his thoughts were interrupted by a long whistle and Natasha’s head snapped around, whistling back almost immediately. When he looked up to Natasha’s and his house he could make out a small person, who he knew was Yelena, Natasha’s sister.

Natasha had told him about her in the five years of the blip and after they brought everyone back Natasha had tried to contact her for ages, but no luck. Turned out, someone had told Yelena that Natasha had died while fighting against Thanos and she had gone rought. Trying to find the one she thought was responsible for her death. Long story short around the Easter holidays Clint was visiting New York with his kids and Yelena found him, they fought and Clint told her what really happened and afterwards Yelena and Natasha reconnected again.

Natasha had stood up and was now walking towards Yelena, who he now saw wasn’t standing alone. Another woman was standing next to her, taller than Yelena but he couldn’t say who it was.

When they arrived at the table everyone was joyful to see Yelena again. And while everyone greeted the her the other woman was standing next to Clint and his family greeting them and talking to them. “Everyone, may I Introduce you to the new Hawkeye! This is Kate we met while I was in New York, I helped her with some problems and she helped me with Yelena over here!”

“Hey! She did not help you! She was trying to fight me with Hot sauce!”

“Come one Yel. We said we wouldn’t talk about it. Anyways. Hey everyone I am Kate. Kate Bishop. Big fan of you guys. Nice to meet you all.”

It was good to see, that eventho the original Avengers we’re slowly retiring, someone else was brave enough to stand up and do the work.

Steve and Natasha had agreed to stop with the avenging and while he had given Sam the Shield, Natasha had a long talk with Yelena and she agreed to step into her sisters shoes, at least for know.

So now they were sitting all together, new and old generation and just talking about the good things in life.

He jumped a bit when ge heard Nat whispering in his ear. “You are thinking really loud.”

He had to chuckle before he answers her. “ Just thinking about how lucky we are. How lucky I am to have this family. That I have you by my side. I Love you Nat.” The smile that she gave him was a real one. One he saw more and more since they retired. “I love you too, Steve. I am so happy to be here with all of you, and especially you.”

When he leaned in to kiss her. He heard none other than Tony wolf whistle. “Get a room you too.”

Yeah. They were lucky to have this. Family.

All was Well.

[chaotic-starlight24]

My Dear Dahlia Chapter 1

Summary: Just a little bit of background to Dally and her daily life.

This ain't my best work and the coming chapters will be better I promise :,)

Whenever Spot is rude to Race he don't really mean it, he's just acting tough

Newsies

Word Count: 2.5k (Long I know)

Warnings: Mentions of abuse but not much else

Characters mentioned are a mixture of all the newsies (musicals and movie) They also aren't completely accurate because most of them are built of headcanons and random info

Random: I'm not sure how popular this will be but I just draw and write stuff depending on how much inspiration I have

Next|Previous

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

The young girl sat sobbing on her bed. The academy was worse than anything she had ever experienced. She may have lived in a poor farm in the middle of nowhere, but at least she had a family! Now she was stuck in an itchy dress in a stuffy room with a bunch of other girls she barely knew. The only thing they shared was their hatred for this dismal place. If her parents were still alive, they would have never sent her here!

Her father wasn’t very kind to her brothers, but he had shown some care for her. While her mother tried her best though she wasn’t very sane. Now her brothers are somewhere on the streets and her mother and father were 6 feet under. Dahlia wished she was working some exciting job with other kids who actually liked her! Instead here she is, getting beat for things like eating porridge the wrong way and sleeping the wrong way! One day she was going to get out of the academy. Suddenly, a guardian came in. Dahlia quickly wiped her tears so she wouldn’t get beat for crying. The woman looked at the letter in her hand and looked back up at Dahlia.

“Your aunt and uncle have sent you a letter, child.” She told her, the women's expression completely dead.

They never did have expressions. Dahlia walked towards her with her head down. Then politely grabbed it and went back to her bed. The woman left and Dahlia tore open the letter. Maybe this was her ticket out!

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

My dear Dahlia,

I’m still terribly sorry we could not get back to New York for your birthday! Me and your uncle miss you so very dearly. But your uncle could not get away from his work, Chicago is a busy city. He is also being asked to travel farther out west to set his businesses up there as well! We hope the city is treating you well, we shall return next year! Remember to not get mixed up with the dirty children of the streets, the academy treats you well so you don’t have to be like them. Your brothers did not get that same chance, all because of your parents. So remember it is because of us you get this great opportunity! We know you miss your family farm, but we hope the city treats you well. We hope your 12th birthday is a grand day!

With love,

Your Auntie Lisa and Uncle Ralph

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

Dahlia, or how she liked to be called now Dally, chuckled at the letter. Then placed it under her pillow with the rest of the postcards. That was the only reason she kept the letter, for her collection. Her “so very loving” aunt and uncle had never returned for her. And it would be in vain anyways, at 16 she was living a much more exciting life. The academy may have given her a roof over her head and an education, but she was miserable there. It was basically the refuge, if the refuge had funding and a school mashed with it. Now she was going day to day, hawking papes and lighting shows. Which she much preferred. She escaped at the age of 13 and did several jobs. Working the docks and washing dishes was honest work, not what she wanted to do though. But at 14, she met the independent and strong boy, Spot Conlon. Now she was a newsie by day and a stagehand by night. And was pretty well-respected by Brooklyn newsies.

“Ey sleepin beauty! Best ya get outta bed!” A voice called, shaking her from her drowsiness. 

“I’m up, I’m up!”

Dally stretched out her arms and jumped out her bunk. Several fellow girls were standing by the door, already ready. She wondered how she had slept in! Dally quickly pulled on her shirt and high-waisted pants. One of the girls started making tick-tock noises. She tucked her wavy, dark brown hair into her cap, though messy strands were haphazardly sticking out, and out the doors she went! There Spot and a couple of the gang waved her over.

“We was worried youse weren’t eva gonna wake up!” Hotshot teased, placing his hand on her head.

Dally ruffled his hair in return and then took his hat, sprinting away as she did.

“Hey! Get ya butt back here!”

“Gotta catch me first!”

Spot sighed as the two ran off in childish glee. But didn’t stop them. Dally seemed to be able to remind people that they were still kids, which was something they definitely needed. But after a while of running, she was pulled back by the back of her shirt. She laughed expecting it to be Hotshot but instead she heard a familiar voice.

“Dahlia?”

She spun around, clenching the cap. Few called her by her given name.

“It-it’s you!” Her aunt gasped as their eyes met.

The man holding her arm must have been her uncle Ralph. Spot and the gang hung back a bit, ready to fight but letting her talk to them.

“Auntie Lisa?”

“Yes, yes it’s me.” Her aunt confirmed her eyes filled with confusion and some form of…disgust?

“When did you all come back…” Dally questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“A year or so ago, we thought you’d be at the academy! What did you do to your hair?!” Her aunt answered and reached for her cap.

Dally swatted her away, “Get away from me! You never cared where I was! You all just dumped me and left! Didn’t even try to find my brothers!”

“You’ve got scars all over you! And your hair, it’s a mess!”

Spot and the gang began to get closer.

“Dahlia! Get behind me, it’s those newsies!”

Dally rolled her eyes and stalked back over to the gang, “I’ve got a work day to get through, please leave me be!”

Her aunt and uncle sneered and took a couple steps back. Ritz looked the two up and down. The others joined in staring them down. Eventually her uncle began to walk off, but her aunt stayed. She reached out to Dally but quickly pulled back and straightened her posture.

“Nice to know you're so scared of me now that ya won’t even go near me,” Dally spat, “I don’t want to eva see youse again.”

Her aunt swallowed hard and walked back to her uncle. Dally sighed and walked ahead of the group.

Spot looked back at them and then caught up with her, “I’m sorry, but ya have brudders?!”

“Yes, haven’t seen them in forever, probably dead.” She answered with a bite.

Spot took another quick glance, “How did they even know youse was here?”

“I dunno, probably got tipped off by one of the teachers, maybe they want their money back from the time I spent…there.”

Spot let it go. He was one of the few who knew about her time at the academy. It may have not been as bad as the refuge, but it took a large mental toll on anyone who grew up there. Dally still slept perfectly uniformed, not able to sleep otherwise. The group reached the gate as the distributors opened it. That was one of the nice things about being a Brooklyn newsie, the goons wouldn’t mess with you. Dally looked up as the headline was swiped across the board.

“Trolley Strike Drags On For 3rd Week.”

Stray huffed and so did Ritz. Spot rolled his eyes. The writers needed to come up with something more creative! Maybe the newsies needed to start making the headlines. Dally still grabbed her stack of 50 papes and walked out. Then Spot stopped her.

“Youse is sellin at the sheepshead today, right?”

Dally nodded, a bit confused.

“There’s a ‘hattan newsie who keeps showin his face there, chase him off if ya can.”

“Alright, I can do that.”

The Sheepshead had some of the best foot traffic in the borough. They couldn’t have any Manhattan newsie stealing their sales! And it didn’t make it any better that the racetrack was especially full that day. She shoved her way through the crowds, shouting exaggerated titles while doing so. Also stopping a few women and talking about her dream of an education. She was making good sales! Until she reached the middle of the stands. Several men and women already had papes! And then she heard him.

“Extra Extra! Strikers beat to death! You heard it right here folks!”

Dally looked up and saw the boy. He was about her age, but his clothes made it clear he wasn’t from Brooklyn. With his hat clumsily placed on his blonde curls and buttoned shirt and vest. Most newsies from Brooklyn had a simple undershirt and suspenders. 

“Hey you! What are ya doin on Brooklyn terf?!” She yelled to him, hoisting herself onto his platform.

He glanced at her with a stupid grin, “Hey sweetheart! Just here to watch the horses and make my rent for tonight!”

“Don’t call me that.” she growled, “This isn’t ‘hattan, I suggest ya run back to Jacky before I soak ya!”

He held up his hands and stepped back… Onto the very firm floor of air. He let out a yelp and Dally quickly grabbed one of his hands before he tumbled off the back of the stands.

“Thanks, sweetie. Though moving a bit fast?” He smirked, raising his eyebrows. 

She began to loosen her grip on him and he quickly grabbed onto her waist.

“I think I’m still gonna drop ya.” 

“NO! I mean, uh…Please don’t?”

“Leave.” She demanded sternly.

He shrugged and began to walk towards the exit. Until he saw someone and swiftly turned back towards her.

“Hey, uh, Spot just walked past here, I don’t feel like gettin soaked…” He said sheepishly, “Would ya mind walking me to the bridge?”

Dally sighed but grabbed him by his shirt collar, “Fine. Let’s go.”

As they walked the crowded streets of the borough he enthusiastically rambled about the newsies in Manhattan and horses. Not that Dally was listening much. It sort of reminded her of herself before the academy. 

“Hey, I never caught ya name.” He suddenly asked.

She blew a hair out of her face, “Dally.”

“Nice ta meet ya! Name’s Racetrack!”

“Racetrack? Where’d ya get that name?”

“I’m really fast, and my whole thing with horse races.”

Dally nodded her head and kept on walking. She didn’t want him to turn the conversation to be about her. But it seemed her luck was down that day.

“So how’d you become a newsie? We don’t got many girls in Manhattan.”

“Escaped from the academy, worked a couple of jobs and then met Spot.”

“Huh, say youse is not a native New Yorker are ya?”

That made Dally stop and turn to look at him, “Um, yeah no I’m not. How could ya tell?”

He chuckled, “Well the fact youse said “yeah no” confirms that. Ya have an accent!”

“Says the New Yorker… I spent my childhood in Ohio, on a farm.”

“Youse a funny girl, ya know the Delanceys have a similar accent!”

Dally made a sound of acknowledgement. She was more surprised she had grown comfortable enough to drop her fake accent.

“Ah no, Spot Conlon is right over there!” Race squeaked, his eyes widening.

Dally looked over and sure enough he was. Spot was selling papes to a nicer gentleman and hadn’t noticed them yet. 

“If we just tell him I’m escorting ya he won’t give us no trouble!”

“I guess youse is right… But he’s still a little intimidating…”

“And where did ya learn that big word?” 

Race got ready to shoot back but Spot had finally turned their way. And he didn’t look happy.

“So what are ya doin up here, Dally?” Spot smiled, crossing his arms with feigned politeness.

“Just takin that ‘Hattan newsie you warned me about back to his terf.”

Race took his cigar out of his mouth with a dopey grin, “Wow Spot! Cared enough to warn her about me!”

He rolled his eyes and sighed, “I think I can take him from here, Dals. He’s caused ya enough trouble.”

Race’s face dropped. Dally understood why, Spot wasn’t exactly in a joyful mood right now. But Race quickly went back to his happy self.

“A personal escort, Spot? You must be in love!” 

Spot stalked forward a couple feet to wait for Race, who turned back to Dally.

“Thank ya, miss. It’s been a grand time with ya!” He winked and tipped his hat. 

Then he joined with Spot who started lecturing him. Dally was just happy she could be rid of him and get back to selling. But something about him stuck with her for the rest of the day. Not exactly in a lovey dovey sense, but man did Race have blue eyes! Something must have seemed off cause Hotshot started laughing at her while they were playing poker at the lodging house.

“Penny for ya thoughts?”

“Show me the penny and we’ll see.”

He rolled his eyes, “I heard ya met the ‘Hattan newsie at the track today~”

“Yeah, his name is Racetrack and he kept flirtin with me while I was takin him to the bridge. He’s charming, but he probably does that to everyone he meets.” 

“Gasp! The stone-cold Dally has admitted someone to be…Charming?!” Hotshot put a hand over his mouth.

“She finds who what?” Spot asked, sticking his head through the door.

“Spot! How long did it take ya to get him to the bridge?” Dally inquired.

“A couple hours, Race likes to talk so Ise ended up standing at the bridge for another hour before he left!”

Hotshot placed his hands under his chin, “Dear Dally just admitted to him being charmin!”

Dally placed her reddening face in her hands as Hotshot giggled like a small child.

“Ise didn’t mean it like that! I’m just sayin, he has…um…”

Hotshot snickered, “And now she’s at a loss for words!”

Spot gave her a look of disapproval and pulled out a chair.

“I’ve gotta say though, he has stamina.” Spot conceded, “It’s a 18 mile hike from the bridge to the races. And without the trolley workers…”

Hotshot and Dally mumbled sounds of agreement and once again focused hard on the game. The two revealed their hands, Dally flashing a royal flush.

“Guess I win!.” 

Hotshot threw his cards to the ground, “I’m neva playin with youse again!”

“And what’s the reason for the sudden tantrum?”

“I can neva read ya!”

Dally made a dramatic evil laugh and placed the cards together. Hotshot huffed and grabbed his off the ground.

“Ise is going to bed guys, try an get a early start.” Spot yawned.

Hotshot flopped face first on the table with a sigh, “mmkay…”

Dally shook her head with a smile, no one would ever think the Brooklyn newsies would be some of the most dramatic. Yet here they were. 

“I think I’m too tired to think straight…” Hotshot mused.

“Go on to bed then! It’s best if I sleep now too.”

Hotshot mhmmed and stumbled down the hallway. Dally climbed out of the window and made her way up the fire escape. This was the only somewhat peaceful place in Brooklyn. But she didn’t come out there to look at the stars, something about watching the nightlife was more soothing. She dozed off to the quiet hummm of the streets.

[halfblood-princes-crown]

Hi this is "severitus with alive Jilly au, unboxing horcrux gone wrong". I'm not going to write this because it will take time and those ideas are basically my good bye letter to this fandom. It's a little painful for me but I know I cannot stay in this fandom anymore. There are obviously more reasons but the main one is because this has been a central part of my childhood and I feel like I just cannot let it be a part of me for an unknown amount of time. I might return to it later in life but this is technically my goodbye to my childhood and me saying hello to adulthood officially (this is also why I'm staying an anon, I don't want to be associated with this fandom anymore, I want a clean break). This took a sad turn, but anyways, returning to the au.

You know the drill, I might also drop in

Bellatrix has a knife to my throat, I don't know what to do, I don't know what to say, I guess I don't have to say anything cuz Ron starts screaming

The rest of the week is kind of a blur everyone is panicking, we're sleeping in the Great hall, my parents come over and for some reason my dad asks what did I do to scare her off and is disappointed to find out I didn't do anything, she just kinda ran away after hearing Ron. My mom is kind of silent, she doesn't say anything, just asks if I got hurt "or something" (why did she say it like that does she not love me anymore?) and they just kind of leave after that, not making sure I was actually okay I wish Auntie or Peter were here instead of them

Snape did make sure I was okay, he gave me a cookie and a awkward head pat. Professor Lupin actually tries to talk to me, I appreciated that, he even offered to tutor me in any spell I wanted and I don't think any of us was expecting me to take up that offer. I had a dream where I couldn't cast a spell, it was called a Patronus and it apparently works against dementors, considering I still can't go outside without hearing children being tortured by a woman in a orphanage (I asked Tom about it and he apparently did grow up in an orphanage and we're his memories, I'm still not sure why am I hearing them but okay, sure, normal Tuesday shit for Harry Potter), I also know that Tom approves of this choice my soul was warmer that usual

Things go of as usual, aunt Petunia actually sends me an owl and that is a big step because usually hates owls.

I may not like being treated like I'm made out of glass by the rest of the school but I gained a new friend, Hermione, she is a little condescending and a little bit too nosey but she is super loyal and is willing to talk about things that Ron isn't ready for yet, like politics and bullies and the unfairness of being put a label on and being expected to act a certain way and how the wizarding world treats those they deam beneath them and how cute Blaise Zabini is and how hot Lavender is becoming. Though she is weirdly against dark magic and I am too, I think, but she takes it to a whole new level and now we are researching dark magic and how negatively it affect our society. I win three to one pro-dark magic.

School goes on and I have a bet with Ron and Hermione about the date of Snape and aunt Petunia's wedding because Spane handed me a letter from my aunt one morning and the Weasley twins said they saw a hickey of Snape's neck. I bet around summer after fifth year and summer before the forth year. Who cares I wasted twenty galleons, I'm rich, especially after my godfather dies.

I master the Patronus charm and leave everyone flabbergasted when I used it spontaneously on a dementor on my way to Herbology.

Somewhere in a tower towering over the school a batty old teacher named Trelawney said in a thousand voices that weren't her own but were: "That boy might as well save himself for Death if he is going to provoke him so, Death always loved a challenge." To bad the only person there to witness that didn't have any idea what that meant and thought that Trelawney was high and made a sexual joke so he laughed, like any 14 year old would, and went back to cleaning fake cristal balls.

The year ended so we went back home and I will spend the first month with my aunt and then head back to my parents. A scream is heard along the train and then another one and another one. Students are running along the hall so I get out of the compartment to see what's going on and a decapitated head (a boy in the year above me, a Hufflepuff), drenched in blood, lands at my feet (the only person who remebers what happens when you peak Death interest the only person who can begin to guess Harry's fate) with a a loud smacking sound and I look up from the blood filled floor and look into the eyes of a faded beauty, Bellatrix fucking Lestrange, in all her twisted glory.

The smiles at me, it's a gentle smile, it's the smile that a mother gives her child when their being endearing or funny, it's surprisingly... fond. "I finally found you again, my beautiful little doll." He grabs my collar with surprising force and forcefully drags me to a corpse filled compartment and the last thing I see before the window shatters behind me is her motherly smile.

'At least I can't lose the bet when I'm dead' is my last thought before pain erupted from my head and my back as hundreds of glass shards find their painfull home in my back.

Sorry for the wait, it took me 45 minutes to write this to make it quality to make up for my drunk ramblings last time, and don't worry, despite the cruelty I'm putting Harry through, he'll survive it somehow, he's a though little cookie.

Love you and your blog! Say hi to your wifey for me!

Oh! Well I’m proud of you for letting go! I’ll miss your asks!

Your idea is so good and I adore it!!! It was great that you put it out there before leaving! It’s very well thought out and I love the plot! You put some good thought into this.

You guys really inspire me to write.

“Thought that Trelawney was high and made a sexual joke, so he laughed” 😭😭 relatable

This ^ had me in tears ngl 🤣🤣🤣 Blaise is cute…and Lavender is hot…no lies here

@moonlightdancer26 my anon says hi ☺️

Miss you 🥹

[casspurrjoybell-17]

Heart’s Choice - Chapter 36 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Carlos Martinez

My consciousness leaves my body the instant I take Kyle's hand.

I watch myself crumple to the floor, my physical form cast off like a discarded sock, hitting the boards of the stage with a muffled thump.

Rafael runs forward and drops to his knees at my side, shouting curses at his trigger-happy sister and checking for a pulse.

He's not really concerned about me, of course... only with whether or not I've expired before the appointed time and thrown a wrench in his well-laid but swiftly unraveling plans.

While the murderous siblings throw insults at each other, I turn my attention to Kyle.

He looks surprisingly good for a ghost.

His eyes are clear, no longer black voids but the watery blue-grey I remember them to be and his slightly crowded teeth are clean and white, as if he's just had them bleached.

He still wears the grey coveralls he died in but the grease stains are gone.

He smiles shyly.

"Hi, Mr. Martinez. I remember what happened to me. I remember everything."

My heart twists with pity and anger.

This poor kid.

"Kyle... I am so sorry."

"It's okay, Mr. Martinez. It doesn't hurt anymore. It's you who needs help, now."

I look back at my body where it lies, unmoving, in the ruined circle.

"Am I... dead?"

To my relief, Kyle shakes his head.

"No, Mr. Martinez. You're alive and we're going to keep you that way."

"We?"

"They're wrong about him, Mr. Martinez. About the demon. He's not 'evil.' He just wants to go home."

Remembering the dark presence that I'd felt in the 'in-between,' I shudder.

"Are you sure about that? It didn't seem very friendly to me."

"Well, maybe not 'friendly,'" Kyle allows, still smiling easily as he shrugs.

"But not 'bad,' either. He's been stuck there a long time but he doesn't want to break into this world and hurt people. He wants to get back to his own and I told him you could help."

"Me?"

"Yeah," Kyle nods.

"He was real mad at first, when I told him who you are. See, my aunt tricked your aunt and your mom into that first ritual and that's what got the demon trapped in the first place. He was after your mom for a long time, 'cause he thought it was her fault and that she could set him free. But once I explained, he understood. Now he wants to make a deal."

"What kind of deal?"

"Let him possess your body... then once he's taken care of the Morellis, you return him to his home realm."

Confused, I look at Rafael, who's now busy arranging my body, spread-eagled, in the center of the ruined seal.

"I don't understand. I thought that's what Rafael and Rexi wanted to do, anyway. I thought that's why we're here."

Kyle shakes his head.

"They're liars, Mr. Martinez. Just like Aunt Lucille. They don't want to send the demon home. They want to capture it and use its power for their own ends."

"Capture it? How? And what is he doing?" I ask, as Rafael, having arranged my body to his liking, rocks back on his heels and begins to chant under his breath.

"He can't complete the ritual now. The seal is wrecked."

"He's improvising," says Kyle.

"Enough of the seal remains for him to summon the demon and trap it in your body. It won't be a permanent bond but it'll last long enough for them to get you away from here and make a new seal. Once they do that, the demon will be imprisoned within your physical form, forced to obey their commands."

"And me?"

Kyle shrugs.

"You'd be coming with me, I guess."

"Great. So the one thing that hasn't changed is that I die."

I shake my head, more confused than ever.

"I thought getting rid of demons, no matter what the cost, was the Morellis' whole deal."

"It is," Kyle says, his gaze growing unfocused, as if he's looking at something only he can see.

"Or, it was. But some within the family have a larger mission...Lucille and her grandkids, especially. They think people have drifted too far from the 'right path,' become too obsessed with the physical world and forgotten there's more. They think that by creating some paranormal chaos, they can get people back to the 'old ways.' You know... fearing God and burning witches and all that. You remember what they said about making sacrifices? That's one thing they didn't lie about. Lucille sacrificed her own son for it."

Wow... I knew they were zealots but this is next level zealotry.

"How do you know all this?"

Kyle shrugs.

"Ever since the demon helped me get unstuck and remember what happened to me, I just... know stuff."

A ghost being useful for once? Color me impressed.

I rub my brow.

"Okay but once they'd got me, why tell the lie?"

"I guess they thought you'd fight back harder if you knew there was more than your own life at stake," Kyle says.

"But they didn't lie about the demon needing to be in a physical form in order to be exorcized and sent home. If the Morelli's bind him, he'll be trapped and you'll die but if you let him possess you willingly, he'll have full control."

I take a breath.

Well, not having physical lungs.

I don't really take a breath but whatever.

My astral body does the astral equivalent and I nod.

"Okay. Not like I've got great options."

"The only problem is, the demon is pretty powerful and he thinks possessing you will probably kill you, anyway, especially since you're already hurt."

"Uh... right. So, how are you keeping me alive, again?"

"We're not," Kyle says, looking towards the top of the theater as a dog's bark echoes through the hall, drawing Rafi and Rexi's attention.

"He will. And then the demon will save you both. You and John."

"John..."

A chill goes through me at the sound of his name.

"What do you mean, save John?"

"There isn't time," Kyle says.

"You need to decide. Give him permission to possess your body or see how things play out. But the demon says you'll die for sure if you don't accept his help and he'll still be trapped."

'Fuck me. What kind of a choice is that?'

"Fine," I say, watching as Rafael shouts at Rexi to kill whoever comes through the door.

"Fine... tell him he has my permission to possess me, on one condition... he tells me his name first."

A lot of what people think they know about demons is half truth or whole fabrication but one thing they get right is that names hold power.

If the demon tells me his, I'll have something to use against him if he goes back on his word.

Tilting his head to the side, Kyle appears to listen to something only he can hear.

"He says he will tell you but that you probably can't pronounce it, since most of the sounds don't have an equivalent in this dimension. He says the closest he can get is..."

Kyle opens his mouth and releases a bizarre string of noises somewhere between discordant music, a jungle full of animals and a bunch of rocks tumbling down a hill.

It bears so little resemblance to human language that I couldn't reproduce it if my life or soul... depended on it.

Meanwhile, I'm out of time.

I can sense John's presence, warm and bright, as he enters the theater and approaches.

"Alright," I say, throwing caution to the wind.

"Do it."

Kyle smiles, his ghostly blue eyes seeming to peer straight through mine and nods.

Almost as soon as he does, my body twitches in a very unwholesome manner, as if someone attached electrodes to all my extremities and gave me a good shock.

Rafael is too distracted by whatever's happening at the other end of the theater to notice and a dreadful anticipation fills me like liquid dark chocolate filling a bowl as I watch myself climb awkwardly to my feet and roll my head from side to side, cracking my neck.

I look a lot scarier and more imposing than I ever do in the mirror.

This impression is further solidified when my possessed body turns and confronts Rafael, face to face.

At first he looks surprised but pleased, probably thinking the possession ritual has gone smoother than he imagined it would.

His expressions swiftly changes when, moving faster than humanly possible... 'I' grasp his throat, lift him off his feet and slam him onto his back.

Then, to make matters more surreal, my demon-controlled self sets a foot on his chest, takes hold of his head and tears it from his body, Predator style.

Blood splatters across the stage.

Shocked and sickened, I can only stare as the demon, wearing my face, turns to look at me and smiles.

Rexi screams.

She stands at the far end of the stage, horror etched on her face and fires two shots at the demon, who watches without concern as the bullets spark off an invisible shield.

Movement at the other end of the theater distracts them both and Rexi fires more shots, aiming wildly into the darkened hall.

Someone returns fire.

Rexi takes a bullet to the chest and drops.

My heart lifts with relief as John approaches, flanked by Becky and one of the Hunter siblings... Freya the bounty hunter, I think.

The demon seems glad to see him, too,and greets him with a slow, broad smile, speaking in a voice surprisingly like my own.

"Hello, John. We've been waiting for you."

As John approaches, eyes locked on the demon wearing my flesh and completely oblivious to my incorporeal presence... I can only hope I haven't made a horrible mistake. 

[your-local-whisp]

Dear Diary

HAPPY NEW YEARS!!!!!!!

So I’m alive i think. School has been… something. I don’t really remember what I wrote last but I’ve still come to update you on my feelings and how the world falls apart around me. Now before I start I must say I am not a very positive person but I try and I feel like I don’t portray that well through all my whining. Despite what you’ve ready whining isn’t my entire personality but it will most certainly be very present in my entries

Ok so I moved to Vegas and started my junior year there. As I’ve found out Las Vegas schools are not the best. You wither sacrifice your education for a good social life or your social life for your education or at least detailed by family members who live there. Me and my family have come down a decision to put me back in California with my grandparents to continue my high school education at my old school. This is cause the teachers suck more in Vegas and also my whole social life is in cali. Unfortunately for this to happen I have to get along or at least ignore my aunt and her demo in spawns my older and younger cousins. The only reason I gotta deal with the older one is cause her and her boyfriend or moving in again to “save money”. My grandparents are giving up the master bedroom for them and i think my younger cousin is going to move into the second big room with her mom so my grandparents can have the smallest room. So that leaves me in the living room.

I don;t mind being in the living room, it’s just gonna make sleeping a bit awkward as I’m not an early riser and everyone else kinda is. What does piss me off tho is my grandparents losing their room AGAIN, because this isn’t even the first time my cousins has moved back. My grandparents(mostly my grandmother)love having us all live with her, but my aunt and her family take advantage of that a lot and aren’t afraid to kick them down to get more out of them. It really hurts to watch and not be able to do anything because my grandparents just say it’s fine and not to worry. I’m still thinking about it cause my cousin will hopefully, if her plan works, stay for six months.

Anyways, enough with the icky family drama, on to my goals for the year. I want to be able to log in a little entry every day. Now I say everyday but realistically speaking like a couple times a week. Along with that I want to make a nice schedule to stick to cause mine is absolute garbage right now now. And also basic things like staying organized and being more independent. I’ll also start trying to post some things like poetry if I come up with some I really like or some random stuff if I’m creative enough. I have a few more things but that sums them all up nicely i think.

Anyways ta ta for now!

Have a great time with your families and friends!!

[tisafloat]

I've always been looking for love, i guess

But the first time wasn't even about love

It was about me always being the person who wanted to make everybody like her

So when he asked if he could kiss me i said "sure, why not?" and after a few "why not" we were dating

And after a couple frustrating months i stopped talking to him and he called me out on it and i thought well it feels like a good time to break up

And he cried, and i cried and my mother thought i was stupid and my aunt called me a whore

I was twelve

I learned around then that i was alive and had feelings too, apparently

When i changed schools and met him, he called my attention and i called his the first day, but he was dating

So i dismissed the feeling, happy to just make new friends

I met her and i fell in love with her, but it was never romantic, even though it was the strongest kind of love i had experienced since forever

Then he broke up and we hooked up and we laid on the street, and we kissed and we danced and i was happy

I remember being happy, waiting for buses and being happy

But you cheated on me and you asked me to have sex with you and i didnt want to and you wanted to leave but i wanted you so bad i couldnt let you go

But you left anyway and i remember being miserable and i remember you fucked everything up and you made me fuck everything up but also put me first, even if it was to turn down a kiss or screw up a test i didnt want to pass

But you came back, of course you did, and you were dating someone else because of course you were and you still wanted me because of course you did and oh of course i wanted you too but i knew i had feelings then, so i couldnt betray myself like you did but i kept lingering around you waiting for you to change but you never truly did

And then i left and I couldn't move on from him but i felt like i had to and everyone felt like i had to so i made myself move on

I met the third one and oh how i wish i didnt

The second one taught me love was hard but the third one showed me the world wasn't kind and shit happened because shitty people existed

And he was shitty

I was swallowed by him, made small by him, lost friends and lost myself and still my virginity was the only thing i couldnt lose

It took me despair and so much fear to let you go, to push you away, to kick you out of my life

Then, so fast, i tried again, because why not (of course why not)

And he was great but he was allo so he wanted sex and he wanted intimacy and i couldnt give him any of that and god i was lost

I was scared and lonely and i wanted to be held so much

I still do

I used him

And it felt horrible later

But could i have survived if i hadn't?

Would i be alive if i hadn't lived it all?

I don't want to live any more days

Good or bad

Im just tired

My therapist said i should keep going and not resign myself to this feeling but it's so hard when you can barely get out if bed or cry or eat or feel anything besides this crushing feeling of constantly thinking how

how can i leave?

How can i not hurt anyone when i leave?

How can i make sure i cannot be saved?

How can i minimize how much i suffer?

How can i drive myself to the edge of no return?

What can i write that will not burden everyone else so much?

Because

If anyone could have saved me it would have been you but no one could, it was impossible, i'm sorry

[livingwithlosingyou]

Living with Losing You - 01/12/2023

It’s Thursday! I had an early physical therapy appointment again, and I graduated with my resistance bands! 

And they added extra exercises which was cool. Issue was, my stomach was still really messed up from Tuesday night. I did power through, but that only got me so far.

I ended up working most of the day from home, but I did go to Mission Valley for PT so I work from there for a little bit. I was trying to find Sadie‘s insurance card for her food because she ran out, but I couldn’t. So I had to go and get her a new card today. While I was at PetSmart, the cashier asked me if I modeled and then offered to do a free photo shoot. I guess it’s a compliment? It was a little strange, but it was a pick me up that I needed.

I also got to talk to another friend today which was nice because we had not caught up in a while. I’m also meeting her for lunch tomorrow which will be great. We used to work together.

Practice today was rough from a personal perspective. I tried to run and I almost passed out because my stomach pain was so bad. If it continues I should probably go and be seen tomorrow to figure out what is going on. The team was very excited to see me and I was very excited to see them! I am looking forward to this track season and to the potential for cross country. You would be again, so proud of me. I know you are proud of me currently.

Once I was done with practice, I stopped at the store to pick up some food to eat because my stomach is so sensitive right now, made a quick meal, and then just hung out. My evenings have been pretty chill since I have not been feeling the greatest. Marissa was having a bad day, so I did invite her over to have an ice cream that I bought since I couldn’t eat it. That was a bit of torture.

Really hoping that the stomach pain goes away, and also that my visitor aunt Flo does too. Not to be TMI but also this is my blog lol, I got a new birth control in my arm to hopefully help with the cyst. Unfortunately, one of the side effects is continuous bleeding and has been a while at this point, while over a week. These are all the medical things that you would be helping me with if you were alive, and sometimes it’s really hard for me to go to the doctors because you were my advocate in a lot of ways.

Anyway, I need to find a supplement so I don’t become anemic or something. In addition to whatever the fuck is happening with my stomach. It’s pretty crazy what impact stress has in the body… Really crazy.

Today I also found out that somebody that I went to high school with passed away. It’s very likely that he took his own life as well. He had reached out to me when he found out that you passed, and said that he was so sorry and that he understood the pain haven’t gone through suicide from a personal and professional standpoint. It just breaks my heart that he got to that point. It still breaks my heart that you got to that point.

It really made me think about how I need to live the rest of my life because you can’t. I honor you by living, even when I feel like I want to die at times.

Love you.

Rest In Peace, James Burton Nichols

10/1/1993 - 7/16/2022

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

so my uncle got married to this woman hhh a few years back, anyway we usually only see them at Christmas so I never really got comfortable with her in the way one would consider an aunt. I liked her! Don’t get me wrong. Way more than his last wife who I naturally called aunt because she was just. Always there. Since I was a kid. 

But we drove up to their place for an easter lunch today and instead of giving me a chocolate easter egg or chocolate for easter she made up a little lolly bag with no chocolate because ‘I remembered from last year that you were lactose intolerant and chocolate didn’t sit well with you so I hope you like this better’ and i seriously just named her aunt on the spot like sorry no take backs you’re my aunt now i love you deal with it

[achillesuwu]

AU where Alex save Dream of the fishbowl & Dream get his revenge on his father (+Jessamyis alive ) BUT but

Since he is still a kid well 😕 Alex is in a problematic situation. He needs a tutor but doesn't really trust anyone (and most of the people in the house are forever asleep now) . He is going to need someone to "" "look after him" "" (officially) + he doesn't really want to talk about his current father to anyone for any reason

So, when Dream (pov alex : really scary tall powerful dude) said "I will offer you a boon"

Alex basically thinks "I'm already in deep shit right now. I have nothing to lose" and say : can you be my father?

What Dream understood : "I chose YOU" and for him Alex looks like this :

Dream hesitate a bit but finally agrees and Alex is like "cool 👍 can you sign some paper, put me in school, assure you that I'm feed and see you in 10 years/for my school graduation/my wedding"

Little did he know that when Dream dads he DADS 😤

Anyway.

Why did I thought about this?

1930!Hob Gadling that is a bit suspicious about Alex of the "Endless"' dad. He never sees the guy but he must be a prick because everytime that there should be a parent's meeting with the teacher Alex avoid his gaze and find some excuse on why his father can't go. Of course Hob never pushed. He gets it 😔 poor boy, to have a rich snob for a father 😔😔

Meanwhile, alex : oh lord, oh god, I can't sit in a parent's meeting with dad again. Too much praise, he is too proud of me, I'm going to die. Please, makes it that Teacher Godlen will drop it. Oh god. please please-

Sadly Alex can't make Dream miss the school graduation

Just the thought of 1930 Hob Gadling face when he sees his stranger walking like he own the place with expensive clothes with Alex trailing behind him.

And well, looks. Hob WAS going to scold Alex's dad but

This is the stranger

Again, THIS IS THE STRANGER

Instead of a :( face Alex has a "why is my father embarrassing 😩 yeah yeah see you later I'm going to see my friend yes yes I love you too nooo don't hug me 😩 DAD MY HAIR😩😩" face which put every interaction he had with him in a new light

THE STRNAHER

Hob is half trying to hide himself because what the fuck and half looking because what the fuck HE IS HOT. (Some of his braincells are also running in panic because : wait, WAIT, ENDLESS. OF THE ENDLESS. IT'S HIS FAMILY NAME!? IS IT A FAKE NAME. would it be awkward if I said something like "hey, Mr Endless, about your son" or "Mister Endless, you couldn't wait to see me ~?" ... WHAT ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT ROBERT GADLING YOU CAN'T SIMPLY GO AND—.... He. He has. HE HAS A SON!?!? )

Little did he know that yes, Dream saw him and once he finally talked to every other teachers about how proud he is of his boy he is very much going to talk about that friendship thing

Meanwhile, alex : .... My dad is seducing my teacher. in my school graduation. Great. Wonderful. Can aunt Death comes pick me up 😩