#I can’t just be in pain. I also have to babysit my negative thoughts so they don’t spiral into a panic attack

[femmesitive]

Cannot stress enough. how difficult it is that having a headache is one of my top anxiety triggers.

[miraculouscontent]

Didn’t Need Burrow (April 1st-10th)

Anonymous said:

Didn’t need Burrow: Lila isn't mentioned and/or doesn't show up until the penultimate episode or the finale. No one cares about Lila until the plot changes their mind.

So the usual then.

Anonymous said:

Didn’t need Burrow: Nino doesn't get any screentime outside of shipping the Love Square, being in a relationship with Alya, and/or getting akumatized again.

Nino, my dude, you’ve GOTTA get out of this “background character” role, it’s not a good look.

Anonymous said:

Didn’t need Burrow: Luka and Marinette don't stay friends post-breakup and ignore/avoid each other because of the "plot". The same can be applied to Adrimi: Adrien and Kagami don't stay friends post-breakup and ignore/avoid each other because of the "plot".

I CAN DEAL WITH ADRIMI BUT NOT MY OTP SEPARATING.

Anonymous said:

Didn’t need Burrow: Bunnix is nothing more than a plot device to "hype" the viewers using prophecies about the Love Square and the antagonists.

uggggggh, Bunnyx, all of my hate

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Most of the characters and plotlines will be sidelined for the Affection Rectangle to the point where nothing in the show matters unless it is the Passion Parallelogram.

This ask wins for the love square synonyms alone.

Anonymous said:

Didn't need burrow to know Manon is probably gonna get akumatized because Marinette won't let her see what's in the doll house and she wants to play with it.

MANON NO

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Sabine and Tom will have a little baby, most likely a boy, and solely so he can cause Marinette pain. The reason I said it will most likely be a boy is not because male is the default, but because it would give the family a gender-equal ratio(good) and so that Marinette can claim the baby reminds her of Adrien. Speaking of which, don't expect this baby to look anywhere near Chinese. Or maybe he will, because it's only girls who have to look white to be seen as attractive.

But that would require making new models.

Anonymous said:

Don't Need Burrow: Marinette's Ladybug transformations will, from then on, always be accompanied with a frown instead of a smile.

Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug Being Depressed

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien is constantly mentioned in situations that don't need him.

So “Truth” but more of it.

Yaaaaaay

Anonymous said:

Not sure if this counts as a Didn’t Need Burrow or just a head canon, but I think it might turn out that the reason the kwamis are acting like such weird childish versions of themselves is because Marinette is childish and it’s ALL HER FAULT. You know, like the rule says. I don’t want this, but it ~feels~ like something they would do

I WILL SMITE ZAG WITH LIGHTNING

neyla9 said:

Didn't Need Burrow: There will be an episode focusing on Marinette's babysitting job; toss up if she'll try to make it work and the lesson is that she needs to prioritize her guardian responisbilites, or if she declines babysitting to do just that, and the lesson is that she can't shirk out on her responsibilities.

Bonus points if all four kids Marinette usually babysits are there and get akumatized, and if there's drawn a direct or implied comparison between Marinette's babysitting and her taking care of the kwamis. Clever way to reincorporate Marinette's previous skills (even though she's been portrayed as being a bad babysitter) or sexist in implying that the heroine's greatest asset is her abilities to be a caretaker? You decide!

I hate how likely this sounds, apologize for making me sad.

Anonymous said:

Don't Need Burrow: One-shot characters will be introduced just to get akumatized and never brought up again for the rest of the show. Often, they're akumatizations will be due to petty and shallow reasons. Often, they'll be from out of the city or even country. But it will always, always, ALWAYS be Ladybug's fault.

ALWAYS

because of course

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Prince Ali will get akumatized due to his responsibilities as a prince, and Rose will play a hand in his purification, which may or may not lead to her being given a Miraculous(which, unfortunately, may be taken away, just like with all the other girls on this show who aren't Marinette.). Not necessarily a negative prediction, I just thought I'd share it with you!

It can be negative if she gets her miraculous taken, yes. I would also qualify it as “potentially” negative because it’s like “Anansi” with Nino; instead of getting an episode revolving around their family/backstory, it’s about their lOvE.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette will be late for school, a dance, or some other social event, and the traffic is jammed. So she will transform into Ladybug, swinging on buildings using her yoyo to get there on time. Tikki will be mad at her for using her Miraculous "for personal reasons" once again, and Marinette will be made to feel like she made a mistake and apologize(to Tikki?). Bonus points if she still gets there late because her power hates her and she doesn't get to spend time with Adrien.

dsjbgjdfkjgdfklgjkdfdg

I WILL RIOT.

[kris-p-banana-bread]

Here DOAFP fandom, have some organic, locally-sourced, home-grown pain. This is basically just me, a scarred older sibling, projecting on Bobby, another scarred older sibling. I really reached into my post-loss psyche for this, so I hope you enjoy the headcanons and meta (AKA I hope you shed at least one tear).

It won’t let me link it here so the post that inspired this is under the read more at the bottom ✨

- When I first watched doafp, I couldn't understand Elena's aversion to Sam becoming a prominent figure in her mom's and her life. Now I understand it almost too perfectly. There was never supposed to be someone after Robert. He and Gabi were deeply in love and happy. Robert was it; he was the first and true love of Gabi's life. Sam showing up probably felt like a huge and utterly disrespectful slap in the face of Robert's memory, because he wasn't even supposed to be there. I don't know if that's as eloquent as I wish it was, or if it makes sense, and it probably sounds really mean to Sam, but it's not even really about him. It was always supposed to be Robert; Sam hasn’t earned the right to be apart of or associated with her family

- After Robert dies, Gabi and Bobby make it a habit to find and keep photos and recordings/videos of Robert, even if the latter only has him saying one sentence. They won't make Elena join them for the search, but after they find some of those old audios of Robert, they'll sometimes play them back for little Elena

- Bobby put up the keep out sign (I credit this to a few other blogs for discussing this tho) because that's where he would cry sometimes. He actually used to be pretty close with Elena, but after he put up that sign and started distancing himself from them a bit so they wouldn't see the times he cracked, he got a little more short and jaded with her. It's that, plus just growing into a teenager and stuff. And I'm not saying that he and Elena have a bad relationship, but he's become more snappy and has more walls up than he used to

- Sometimes Elena feels bad because she doesn't always remember her dad's voice. She was pretty young when he died, so even though she recalls it a bit, and the recordings help, it's been a while since she's talked to him in person, so of course she doesn't quite remember what it's like to actually talk to Robert and she's forgotten some of his mannerisms. She likes to think she's all done (she marked the stages down in her grief journal after all) but grief isn't linear or all that rational, so it hits her hard sometimes

- I keep reading as an action close to my heart because that's a strong bond me and my mom shared. She would rec books to me, and we would joke and talk about them, or she would hint to some future event and then refuse to tell me until I caught up to that part. So Elena and Bobby do something similar in their grief. Elena has writing and words, because that's something Robert loved if I remember correctly (but if I’m not and that’s not canon, then I now declare it so) and Bobby has tennis. But besides tennis (I sent a couple anons to @freshlybakedfandoms about it but I'm not sure where she went) Bobby also was taught to play guitar by Robert (I liken it to Devi Vishwakumar and her harp) so when he misses his dad or is just sad, he'll take out his dad's old acoustic and strum

- (This next one is something I also think a lot about so this is pretty much 98% projection) Bobby thinks sometimes about the fact that he was never able to come out to his dad. He hadn't really started growing into that part of himself yet, and he never got to show it to his father. He wonders what he would have thought of him. Would he be angry? Would he dismiss him and say it was just a phase? Bobby didn't think so, but a little part of him insisted that you could never be too sure. After he comes out, Gabi and Cami assure him that Robert would've been so proud of him and would've loved him regardless (Since we know virtually nothing about him, I maintain that Robert was one of those dads who teases their kid relentlessly about their crushes and I think he would've done that with Bobby and eventually Elena)

- When Elena's quince rolls around (if she chooses to have one of course), Sam dances with her during the father-daughter dance. A part of her still hurts, still aches and wishes that Robert were dancing with her too; still knows on some fundamental level that he and Gabi had planned for this day, but he had simply never made it. But she's known Sam long enough that she feels comfortable here. Nobody can replace Robert, but Sam is her family, and it feels right like this.

- I might do some more research and deliberate, but for the moment I'm saying that Robert had cancer, I’m thinking along the lines of colon. My mom was terminal, but idk if I should make Robert terminal? Maybe towards the end. Or maybe he was diagnosed as incurable early on but Gabi kept it from the kids because, tbh, being told your parent is balancing on that kind of edge is traumatic for them. So anyways, I’m going on that assumption for this last point, and I’ll see if I can recover some of my old knowledge and talk about technical stuff later if anybody would like to hear it

- Elena and Bobby were both pretty young. Bobby understood about PET scans and tests somewhat, and knew generally what different answers from doctors meant. Elena mainly just understood what was happening by reading her parents' and brother's expressions when getting lab results in from the doctor. They both remember on some level what it was like when Gabi would leave the kids with Cami and take Robert out to the car (later she would have to help him) and they would all feel like they were holding their breath until they got back and confirmed that everything was ok (and later, the little shocks of fear when the answers were no longer as positive and there was more apprehension and risks. After all, cancer doesn’t deal in absolutes)

- Bobby can still remember Robert when he had to stop walking around a lot. He still remembers the phone call that Cami got from his mom, saying that something had gone wrong, and if this last treatment didn’t work, he wouldn’t have much time before he passed. Still remembers Cami rushing into a room when she got that call, and trying to hide what was happening until Gabi could get home and explain it; but Bobby was a sharp kid believe it or not. He heard about the treatment, heard Cami crying. He still had hope... but when Robert came home in a gurney, when he could barely stay awake sometimes, when his voice was quiet and his skin was a little jaundiced, Bobby felt incredibly empty. But Robert always had a smile for his wife and his beautiful kids, even if it was small and very tired, his eyes still crinkled the same. He always had a smile; right up until they had to say goodnight and get some sleep one night. And then... he passed.

- After he passed, the Cañero-Reeds needed help, and a lot of Gabi’s coworkers would bring food or materials if they were running low. Cami and Danielle would babysit and would distract the kids when Gabi needed a good cry.

- Like you’d imagine, and because of what is sort of implied in canon and in my own head, the kids dealt with it in different ways. Bobby put up that sign, and withdrew. He wasn’t awful, but his patience with certain people got a bit shorter and he was a bit quieter. And he was a really good helper when he had the energy and he cared deeply, but he would sometimes get physically and emotionally exhausted after helping Gabi/Elena/Cami/anybody else with something and would go into his room or mentally tap out to recharge. He took comfort in things that seemed natural and that he sometimes took for granted before, like video games and skateboarding (hehe bobby skateboards. Anybody second me on this?) and clothes etc... and other stuff. A lot of materialistic things or experiences that he would skip out on before. But they bring normalcy back to his life now so he loves them for that.

- Bobby doesn’t wanna think about big themes or anything anymore, which I can’t remember but I think it was Vi (freshlybakedfandoms, again, idk where she is and I hope she’s ok) who said he was a math and science person and I think that as much as that could transfer over to those subjects as well, it’s much harder to avoid existential and emotional themes in English and History class and Bobby doesn’t like it as much as Elena does for that reason. He had to live with the back and forth of his dad’s treatments and tests, so math and science is comforting because it’s more concrete (There could be a million arguments for why he would distrust math and science because of his dad’s passing though, I realize) Ultimately, though, it reminds him of Robert too much.

- On the other hand, after a period of shock and confusion, Elena threw herself into new things. First it was a grief journal, to make sure she was going through the motions. Then she read a lot, and when she felt too alone or like she wasn’t doing enough, like she was stagnant, she’d just find something to focus and persevere on again. That feels like her personality type to me; something is wrong so let’s fix it right away. But that could also transfer sort of negatively into “Something feels off or I’m very sad, let’s get this thing done and be productive so we can put off having to confront that but at least we get work out of it” but I could be entirely wrong (this is based off some of my family members and how they dealt with the loss.) And Elena throws herself into history and english because her dad loved it, and she wants to remember more of him. Because she believes words have power and history is a lesson and that’s incredibly interesting for her

[cakelanguage]

A very self-indulgent fluffy piece for RiVer. I just want these two to have a happy ending so I’m giving it to them! I hope you like this :)

You can also read this on AO3

--

It wasn’t even noon when V got a ping on her Agent from River. A small smile graced her face despite being in the middle of taking out another gonk for Wakako. The gig wasn’t hard - a simple in-and-out retrieval of some intel that’d fallen into the wrong hands, but even simple jobs sometimes involved taken out a guy or two. This one was harmless, not even worth the street cred it might get her for taking him out so she simply knocked him out and stuffed him in one of the bins conveniently posted outside the room.

Really it was like they were asking for people to just dump bodies in them. Actually, that was probably exactly what they wanted to happen. Fewer cleanups for the police to have to deal with and all.

Pocketing the shard that’d been on the desk, she pulled up River’s text.

Hey babe, you busy?

She grinned and quickly sent a negative to him. She barely found time to hang out with River, what with all the Arasaka and Johnny bullshit she’d been dealing with the past few months. Now that she wasn’t in imminent death from the Relic she honestly just wanted to spend some time with her boyfriend. Fuck if she wasn’t going to take advantage of River and her not being busy.

You available to call?

For you? Always. xoxo

She could almost hear Johnny groaning at her being mushy. She felt a pang of loss as she thought about the rockerboy and placed a kiss on her fist before she raised it to the sky. She hoped Johnny was out there somewhere giving the corpos hell from the deepest levels of cyberspace.

The call popped up and she quickly answered as she walked toward the drop-off point.

“Hey River,” V chirped, quickly taking in his appearance in the little window in the upper corner of her vision.

“V, hey yourself,” River said, a lop-sided grin settling easily on his face. “How’ve you been?”

She hummed noncommittally. “Can’t complain too much, definitely been missing morning cuddles though.” And perfect cups of coffee. And the polarity of temperatures between River’s cybernetic hand and the warmth of his skin. And kisses.

She felt needy, missing him so much and all the little things he did. But maybe needy wasn't so bad.

“I’ve missed them too.”

“Think we can change that then?”

“Yeah, case is closed and I’ll be back by this evening.”

If V could’ve purred with delight she would have. “Mm, I’m a lucky girl.”

River laughed, shaking his head. “I’m the lucky one.”

Warmth flooded her cheeks and she didn’t even try to hide her pleased grin. “As much as I’d love to just talk about how lucky we are to have each other, something tells me this isn’t strictly a pleasure call.”

Her boyfriend gave her an abashed smile. “You caught me,” he admitted.

She laughed. “Well go on, let’s hear it,” V teased. “What do you need? A contact? A lead? Someone, to do some super sleuthing?”

“No, no, nothing like that, it’s uh- it’s actually kind of a favor for me and Joss.”

Since she’d met River she’d steadily been getting closer and closer with Joss. It was nice to have another girlfriend, though with Judy and Panam, not to mention Misty and Rogue (if she could count Rogue), she wasn’t exactly lacking in them.

But Joss was different. She was a single mom who busted her ass to provide for her family. It reminded her starkly of her older sister back when the Bakkers were still around. And though Joss sometimes brought up painful memories for her, she loved the woman.

“I don’t mind helping you two out,” V reassured, finally dropping off the shard. She’d get the eddies within the next half hour and if need be she could split her earnings to give to the family. “Anything you need, I’m your girl.”

A husky chuckle echoes over the coms. "Anything, huh?"

"I helped take down one of the leading corpos in the world with an engram of a rockstar slowly taking over my brain - I'm open to just about anything at this point."

"Fair enough." River let out a breath of air. "Joss asked me if I'd meet her this afternoon at Heywood General Hospital to pick up Randy."

V's eyes widened. "He's been cleared for release?" She hadn't thought Randy would be released for another few weeks. It'd been touch-and-go at the beginning and although he'd come a long way since the farm, he still had plenty of recovering to do.

"Yeah, I was shocked too, but I've been visiting him and he's doing a lot better than he was."

Anything would've been better than the drug-induced catatonia that he'd been in when River and V had found him in that barn. She was still haunted by the half-lidded eyes and slack jaw that had been behind that plastic mask. "That's great," her shoulders relaxed from their previous position, "I'm glad he's doing better."

"Me too, and Joss is happy she gets to bring him home."

"He gonna be in his trailer again?"

River made a noncommittal noise. "That's up to him really. We don't know how he'll feel about being alone now but we've decided to let Randy feel his way through this one."

Made the most sense to V. "Alright so you and Joss are going to pick up Randy and you want me too…?" V asked, shifting their conversation back to the favor River and Joss wanted.

"Oh uh right yeah," River scratched the back of his neck. V wanted nothing more than to ease the man's nerves about whatever he was going to ask. "Since Joss and I are going to be getting Randy, we need someone to watch Dorian and Monique." He didn't pause to let her get a word in edgewise. "Usually one of the neighbors can watch them but most of them are busy and then I might've suggested that we could ask you." He scratched at his cheek and shifted his gaze to the side. "You can say of course, but I figured-"

"Babysitting the little rugrats?" V asked with a grin, interrupting her boyfriend's spiel. "You trust me to watch 'em?"

"V," River had that tone to his voice that was part scolding and part fond, "you're their 'Auntie V,' they'll be cheering when they find out you're watching them."

"I don't know, you did joke that I was the one who needed a babysitter."

He snorted and raised a meaningful brow. "And sometimes you do, but I have total faith in you on this. As does Joss."

"Well I guess I can trust Joss' judgment," V teased. "I can be there in twenty."

River's shoulders sagged at her acceptance. "Thanks, babe."

That mushy feeling returned with vengeance and V was sure she had some stupid look on her face. “Want me to make something for dinner?”

Her boyfriend whistled. “Got myself a lady who can kick ass and offer to make dinner.”

“Riv, come on,” she rolled her eyes trying to appear stern, “Dinner a yes or no?”

“Dinner would be great, to be honest. Joss and I were planning on picking something up on the way home.”

That wouldn’t do at all.

“Uh-uh, nope, no way am I letting Randy’s first meal out of the hospital to be some fast food soy protein that’s no much better than the shit you can get with a kibble card.”

“Hey, I’ve seen you eat that crap before,” River argued, though he looked more amused than anything.

“Details, details,” V waved a dismissive hand, “Randy have any food restrictions or favorite foods?”

Food had been a big part of V’s life growing up with the Bakker’s. Food didn’t just mean fueling the body, but feeding the soul. Her mother had once told her that a good meal could heal the body just as well as medicine. Looking back, V knew her mother had been exaggerating but she’d taken the statement to heart because a good meal showed someone you cared for their wellbeing.

Her boyfriend pondered her question as she pinged Jackie’s bike to meet her so she could leave.

“Well, he liked my jambalaya when I snuck some in for him to try last week.”

“Hot or mild?”

“Believe it or not, spicy.” His smile took on a bittersweet edge. “Told me it was the first thing he’d been able to taste since everything went down.”

“Then it’s good he got to taste something delicious,” V said.

River’s smile lost that edge and regained the softness he only showed when he was talking about his family or V herself. “Feel free to keep stroking my ego.”

V shook her head with a snort. “Maybe later,” she offered while mentally going through the repertoire of recipes she still remembered. Something spicy, strong flavors that the whole family would like. “Think he’d eat gumbo?”

“Gumbo?”

“Yeah, learned to make it back when my family was still together...”

She remembered the crowded prep stations, her underfoot as she helped as much as she could under her mother and sister’s tutelage. She remembered her uncle sneaking bits from the cutting boards and popping them in his mouth, sending her a wink and an exaggerated shushing motion to not say anything.

River didn’t interrupt her musing, instead, he waited patiently as she sorted her thoughts. He understood that if he interrupted V she wouldn’t finish talking about her past.

“Mealtime was one of the few times we all tried to be together and pause from our other duties,” V explained. “We made all kinds of stuff depending on who was in charge of dinner, but I know gumbo was my favorite and it’s similar to jambalaya.”

“A family recipe and your favorite, huh?” River commented, “I look forward to trying it.”

It didn’t matter that V hadn’t made gumbo in two years. She wanted to do something for her new family. "It’ll probably take me a little longer to get home since I’ll stop and get them on the way.” She revved the engine and patted the side of the bike. “See you, River, tell Randy we'll be waiting for him at home."

The silence stretched over the line and V had to make sure her Agent hadn't malfunctioned and dropped the call. But River was still connected, just stared at her with this shocked look. "You okay?" V asked.

Her question shook River from his stupor and he gave her a besotted look. "Yeah I'm fine," he reassured, "see you at home after Joss and I pick up Randy."

"Preem."

She snagged the veggies from an Aldaecado who sold some of their crops at the Sunset Motel and picked up some synthetic meat that didn’t look too bad and set course for the trailer park. The ride was as peaceful as ever and V cranked Jackie's bike to the max speed down the straightaways, shaving off five minutes from her ride. The Badlands were some of the best places to go full-throttle without having to worry about a bunch of traffic.

Joss stood on the porch while Monique and Dorian listened to whatever she told them, playfully jostling each other as much as they could get away with. As soon as they spotted V though, they dashed towards her with the exuberance that was only ever found in children. V knelt down with a laugh and opened her arms in invitation.

"Auntie V!" Monique cheered, reaching her first and throwing herself into V's waiting arms, scooping the little girl up into a full-body embrace.

V had quickly discovered how much the two kids liked their hugs and who was V to deny them that?

Dorian quickly followed, wrapping his arms around her legs. "Mom told us you're gonna watch us while she and Uncle River bring Randy home," Dorian said. "Which means we can play together again!"

V laughed and shifted Monique to her hip so she could ruffle Dorian's hair. "Only if you're willing to take this rookie under your wings," V said.

The two giggled and reassured her that they'd show her the ropes, both puffing up with pride.

She managed to slowly walk towards Joss with the two limpets clinging to her laughing and cheering. She saw the poorly hidden laughter that Joss was trying to cover up as just a smile. V was glad she could make the crow’s feet on the women's face crinkle instead of deepening the worry lines that were far too prominent on her friend's face.

“Hey Joss,” V greeted, shifting Monique enough so that she could pull Joss into an awkward one-armed hug.

“Hey, V,” Joss replied, pulling out of the hug. “Thank you so much for being willing to watch the kids.”

“Willing? I’m more than happy to watch them, you know that.”

V and the kids got along like a house fire and she cherished all the little games they’d play together. It gave V an excuse to check-out of adult stuff and focus on entertaining River’s niece and nephew. It had done wonders for her mental health.

Joss smiled and reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Monique’s ear. “Still, I know it’s last minute. Neither River nor I were expecting them to give Randy the okay to leave the hospital.”

“And Randy’s probably been chomping at the bit to leave that place, right?”

The woman scoffed, shaking her head. “If he could’ve, I’m sure he would’ve broken out of there after the first five days.”

“A boy after my own heart.”

Despite going to a number of ripperdocs, regular hospitals, and trauma centers left her nervous and itching to leave ASAP. River practically had to drag her to the hospital just to get a full brain scan after the Relic incident.

Joss rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “We shouldn’t be more than a few hours at most. Pretty sure it’ll mostly be paperwork and finding out any home care we need to know about for Randy’s recovery.”

As usual, Joss was fairly matter-of-fact about the whole thing but she couldn’t hide her worry. V figured she’d be just as worried if her baby had gone through what Randy had. It didn’t help that her relationship with her son had been strained before and no matter how much they’d talked since the incident there was still the unknown of how their relationship would go once he was home again.

“He’ll be excited to see you,” V said, setting down the girl in her arms.

Monique tugged at Dorian’s shirt and the two were off chasing after each other.

Joss remained silent but her shoulders relaxed some. Finally, she seemed to shake herself out of her thoughts. “If the kids get hungry-”

“Feed ‘em something that won’t give them a sugar rush,” V dutifully replied. “I know, Joss don’t worry, I can handle these two just fine.”

Joss sighed. “I know you can, but a mother can’t help but worry,” she managed to give V a sly smile. “You’ll understand when you and River have a kid.”

V made a choking noise as her face flushed. “J-Joss, we-we haven’t even talked about marriage yet.”

“Hop to it, V,” Joss joked with a clap. “Need you to make an honest man out of my gonk of a brother and I want to be an aunt at some point in the near future.”

It was a nice thought, getting married and starting a family with River. It sounded terribly domestic and kind of wonderful if she was being honest.

But her and River could talk about that later.

Much later.

“Go on, get going,” V shooed, “Randy’s waiting.��

“Alright, alright, we can talk about giving me nieces and nephews later,” Joss relented. ‘If you want to get takeout, I have a few menus in the kitchen with Dorian and Monique’s favorites circled.”

“Actually I was gonna make gumbo,” Seeing Joss’ surprise she continued. “It’s a family recipe and I haven’t made it in a while but River said that Randy liked his jambalaya so I figured he’d probably like gumbo too since it also has a strong flavor. But uh if they won’t like it-”

“V,” Joss interrupted with a grin.

“Hm?”

“I really hope River does marry you.”

V blushed and returned her grin. “Yeah me too.”

She’d managed to make the roux for the gumbo while Monique and Dorian were playing tag and now she just had to let the gumbo simmer which meant she was completely free to play. The two were more than ready for her to join them, bouncing around her as she quickly donned the AR set.

The blue tint to ‘Trouble in Heywood’ flooded her vision and she took in the kids’ game personas: Captain Joan McClane and Lieutenant Henry Callahan. It still made her laugh when she saw them, the two rough officers that looked like they were ex-Militech before joining the force. It didn’t help that the backstories they’d given them were so serious.

“Didn’t know if you’d come back, rookie,” Captain Joan, Monique said, her arms crossed and her face stern behind her shades. “Thought what you’d seen when we took down El Chamuco Endiablado was still clinging onto ya’.”

Lieutenant Henry Callahan, Dorian scoffed. “Nah, the two rookies we worked with for the takedown were good, and that’s coming from me,” he argued.

“Sounds like we might’ve grown on you two lone wolves, huh?” V teased, cocking her hip as she checked her gun.

“Don’t get cute with me, rookie,” Captain Joan said.

V raised her hands. “Fine, fine,” she bounced her eyes back and forth between the two. “What’s the situation today?”

“With El Chamuco Endiablado gone, we created a power vacuum and the force is flaggin’ under the pushback,” Captain Joan explained.

“Which is why they’ve called us in,” Lieutenant Henry added, “Regular force just won’t cut it, gotta call in the best of the precinct to take these goons down.”

“We called you in for backup, rookie. All you gotta do is keep up and watch our backs, we can handle the rest.”

“No doubt about that,” V said, “But y’know, I gotta make it home to my partner, promised him I’d make it back.”

“The other rookie?” Lieutenant Henry asked.

“The one and only.”

Captain Joan shook her head and cocked her gun. “Battlefield’s no place for emotion, rookie,” she advised. “We need to dedicate ourselves to taking this filth out.”

V nodded her head and squared her shoulders. “Yes, ma’am,” she saluted, “Are we ready to start?”

Lieutenant Henry gave her a wild grin. “Those bad guys can’t escape justice.”

They ended up playing three different rounds of ‘Trouble in Heywood,’ each round further expanding the narrative. In the last game, Lieutenant Henry had gone rogue to zero José Luis, a Valentino who’d gotten away with murder because the NCPD “didn’t have enough evidence to convict him.” According to Captain Joan, Lieutenant Henry had been harboring secret feelings for the murder victim and he was out for blood.

Honestly, V wasn’t sure where the kids pulled these plots from, but they were endlessly entertaining.

She looked up from the pot she was stirring and made sure the kids were still sitting at the table she'd sat them at with a snack. It didn't look good to her, but Monique and Dorian cheered at the sight of it so at least they liked it.

She tapped her spoon against the rim of her pot and set it to the side. "What do you two wanna do now?" V asked, taking a seat beside Dorian.

"Mom usually makes us practice our reading and math," Dorian grumbled, his eyebrows scrunching together. "We aren't even going to school yet, it's like lightyears away."

"Lightyears, huh?" V mused, propping her chin against her hand. "That's a pretty long time."

"I know!" Dorian threw his hands up. "She says she wants us to be ready and stuff but it's so boring."

"The worst," Monique agreed. "But maybe since Mom isn't here…" She trailed off and gave her puppy dog eyes.

Yeah, that wasn't going to work on her. "Oh no-"

"Please, V?" Dorian begged.

Then it became a cacophony of pleading words and promises to work harder tomorrow. Taking them on one-at-a-time, but both of them at once? Not even worth considering arguing.

"If I let you skip this lesson time," she started, the kids already whooping beside her. "I said if. "

The two nodded seriously, “We’ll do it,” they promised readily.

V shook her head, squinting at them with a skeptical look. “I haven’t even said what you have to do if you skip your lessons.” Monique and Dorian traded confused looks before turning back to her. “The first rule of any kinda deal,” she held up one finger, “you gotta listen to the whole deal, otherwise you might be signing yourself up for something worse.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Dorian insisted.

“How can you be sure?”

“Cause you’re nice,” Monique said. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“Maybe not to you guys, but I’ve conned my fair share of gonks.” Their faith in her left a warm feeling in her chest. “Alright, but back to the deal. I let you guys skip, but you guys have to help me make a welcome home sign for Randy.”

Two pairs of wide eyes stared at her, mouths agape. “We’re gonna make a billboard?” They asked.

V bit her lip and shook her head. “Not a billboard, little short on time and really out of our budget.” She rifled through her pockets and pulled out a small device. “Had this bad boy for a while now, usually I use it to pull up my schematics or tweak one of my daemons, but I’ve got an app that’ll just let us create a design we wanna display.” She fiddled with her Agent and turned the phone towards them. “I’ve got the words, but I need two experts to really make it shine, figured you two would be perfect for the job.”

“Really?” Dorian whispered.

“Really really.” She leaned back, her smile relaxed and open. “I can do some graffiti or graphic style stuff, but you guys know Randy best.”

Monique kicked her legs back and forth and stared at the screen with a frown. “Last time we saw Randy, he didn’t want to hang out with us and said we were annoying him,” she mumbled just loud enough for V to hear.

Her heart sunk at the solemn tone of the girl’s voice. That was when Randy had been in Peter Pan’s grasp when he was being gaslighted with promises of understanding and promises of help.

You can tell a kid that their sibling loves them and what they were going through, but it didn’t erase the hurt that kid felt. And they didn’t fully understand.

Even so, reassurance was better than nothing.

“When Randy last talked to you,” V stated, making both kids look at her. “He was going through some tough times.” She picked at her nail as she tried to find the right words. How much did they know about what happened to Randy? “Do you know what happened with Randy?”

Dorian hesitantly shook his head. “We knew he went missing, and Mom said that you and Uncle River found him and brought him back,” he said.

“And he’s been at the hospital because he was hurt when you guys found him,” Monique added.

V nodded her head. “That’s the gist of it,” V admitted. She hesitated before continuing. “Randy thought he had a… friend, but when he went to meet this friend, he turned out to be a bad guy.”

“Like… the bad guys in our game?” Dorian asked.

V fought a grimace. “Worse.” When her statement was met with silence she continued. “Randy was captured and was hurt real bad while he was held captive.”

She’d never get the image of those kids gassed up and comatose, hooked up to those fucking machines out of her head. No matter what she did, she still remembers the frantic way her hands shook as she checked pulses on cool bodies and tugged out crusted IVs from limp arms.

“According to your Uncle River, Randy’s doing much better,” she reassured, trying to assuage some of their unease. “But he’s gonna need you two to help him, even if he’s grumpy and being mean.” She playfully punched her palm. “Sometimes you just gotta break through their defenses and make them understand. Which is why,” V gestured to her Agent, “We’re making him a special welcome sign.”

“And… it’ll help Randy?” Dorian asked.

“Showing him you care and are happy to see him can sometimes be exactly what a person needs.”

Monique and Dorian turned to each other and nodded before turning back to V. “You can count on us!”

V clapped her hands. “That’s what I like to hear!”

[scoopsahoy]

i just read ur fic about getting pregnant with steve and was wondering if u could write one about the reader and steve struggling for a few years to get pregnant, and she has an emotional breakdown one night bc she doesn't feel like enough for him because it's been pushed on her that women's only jobs are to have kids and shes like "i cant even do that so how am i supposed to please you" and he comforts her and makes her feel better

ぺ  word count ⋰ 2.3k

✰  tw ⋰ none :)

���  cw ⋰ swearing, mentions of sex

✐  masterlist

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★

You sat on the toilet seat with your leg bouncing, anxiously waiting for the pregnancy test results to show up. This had become a new norm for you: getting pregnancy tests and anxiously awaiting the results. And you were sick of it.

It took a toll on you. Getting a negative result every single month for four years straight was stressful mentally and physically. You’d had a migraine for at least three and a half years, and no medicine helped. You were always nauseous and sick, which your gynecologist said was normal in your situation. You were always tired and sad, which affected your job and your relationship with Steve.

You knew he was just as tired of it as you were, and you knew he was probably exhausted from having to care for you all the time.

It had also taken a toll on your sex life. At this point, you two only had sex to reproduce. You rarely finished and always denied his offers to help you. You would always flip yourself upside down afterward to help the sperm enter your uterus.

You’d both been to the doctor multiple times to see which one of you was fertile. Steve was one hundred percent fertile, while you had less of a chance of getting pregnant that you should’ve had.

You’d been to multiple IVF appointments as well. It wasn’t Steve’s favorite thing in the world to go into a room alone and masturbate to porn to provide sperm samples.

At this point, he didn’t enjoy looking at other women to get off, so you had taken pictures of yourself to give him.

The first few times it was awkward for him afterward, but you assured him there was nothing uncomfortable about it.

You’d probably spent over ten thousand dollars on it, and it was heartbreaking each time it didn’t work.

At the end of the five minutes, you grabbed the test out of the sink, feeling a pain in your heart at the single line.

You tossed it back into the sink as you stood up, feeling tears slide down your face. Your back hit the wall and you slid down until you felt yourself land on your ass.

You pulled your knees into your chest, propped your elbows on them, and put your hands into your palms.

You couldn’t help but sob. You and Steve had been trying for four years to conceive. And, despite everything mentioned, none of it worked. This was one of your last straws, a wave of sadness washing over you.

You both desperately wanted kids, preferably two or three. But at this point, you’d be lucky to even have one.

Steve made it clear that in the end, if you couldn’t have children of your own, he’d be perfectly okay with adopting, or just not having any. And you agreed.

However, you had the longing to create your own child. Everything from the pregnancy, to giving birth, to raising that child from the moment they came out, until the moment they could care for themselves. You wanted that more than anything, but you’d be happy to adopt if you were infertile.

But sitting on the bathroom floor knowing that every effort you made — propping yourself upside down after sex, aforementioned IVF treatments, tracking your cycles, staying healthy, etc. — didn’t work, made your heart hurt.

You wondered if you were good enough for Steve, if you could really give him what he wanted. If he was genuinely happy with trying to have kids for years on end and being unsuccessful. You wondered if that was what he wanted, if he was still happy with you.

Your sobs filled the bathroom, making you glad Dustin wasn’t there.

Dustin was your younger brother, and currently, he was at the arcade. He knew about your struggle to have kids, and he usually tried to help, whether it was with the foods you ate, or getting you vitamins, making sure your mom didn’t keep her alcohol where you could get to it, etc.

You thought it was sweet how much he wanted a niece or nephew, always talking about babysitting them and allowing them into the party.

You always made sure he was gone when you took pregnancy tests. You loved him, but comfort wasn’t his strong suit. Sometimes it would work just because of the effort, but sometimes it would make you feel worse. So, you figured the easiest way to avoid that was to make sure he wasn’t there.

The rest of the party was also anticipating you getting pregnant. Max, Eleven, and Nancy all said they would help her with girl things like periods, dating, and other things boys didn’t understand.

And Mike, Lucas, Dustin, Will, and Jonathan all said they would indoctrinate him/her into their Dungeons and Dragons campaigns.

It made you cry the first time you found out how excited they were to have a new member of the family.

But you hated making them wait. Dustin and Robin were the only ones who knew how long you’d been trying, so the rest of them kept jokingly bugging you about them getting a new DnD member.

When Steve got home from work, he found you crying on the bathroom floor. He looked in the sink, seeing another negative test.

He sat on the toilet seat, placing his hands on your knees. He didn’t say anything, he let you talk at your own pace.

“Negative again,” you said, your voice stuffy.

He nodded. “I know.”

“What the hell is wrong with me?”

“Hey, look at me.”

You pulled your hands from your face, revealing your eyes bloodshot and puffy, your skin soaked in tears.

He stood up and held his hands out for you to take. You pulled yourself up and he cupped your face. He wiped your cheeks with his thumbs, before grabbing a dry cloth and cleaning your face completely.

“Come here,” he said, pulling you into a deep hug. You cried into his chest, leaving tear stains on his shirt. He gently pulled you to the bedroom a few seconds later. You sat against the headboard, resting your elbows on your knees. He sat across from you, only a few feet away.

He gripped your hands as you continued crying. It was silent for a few minutes before he continued the conversation.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Then why can’t I get pregnant?”

“You know that’s not your fault.”

“Is it enough for you? Am I enough for you?”

He furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about?”

“If I can’t give you a kid. If I can’t get pregnant, despite everything we’ve done, despite every effort we’ve made... will I be enough? Won’t you want more?”

“Don’t. Don’t even think like that. Don’t say that. Of course, you’ll still be enough for me.”

You softly shook your head. “I don’t believe that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you said that all you want in life is children. You want at least one son and one daughter. And you want to name one of them Dustin, and one of them Robin. And you’ve told me that you want to have a hundred grandkids so you can spoil all of them. And if I can’t give that to you-”

“Stop. Stop talking.” He gripped your hands tighter. “I don’t care. If you can’t give me that, that’s okay. More than anything, I want you. I want you, even if we don’t have a hundred grandkids.”

You felt more tears fall down your face, hitting your legs. He tilted your chin up to look at him.

“Why?” you asked.

“‘Why’ what?”

“Why wouldn’t you want someone who could give you that?”

“Because I don’t want just anybody. I want you. I’d live a thousand lifetimes without kids if it meant I got to be with you.”

“But you want a family.”

“Baby,” he chuckled. “We’re already a family. You and me, we are a family. We don’t need a child to be a family. Hell, we can adopt a dog or a cat if we wanted to. And that would still make us as much of a family as people with kids.”

“But we both want kids. I want kids. I want to be pregnant, I want to give birth, I want to hold the baby after they come out. I want to celebrate their first steps, their first words, their first birthday. I want to do that.” He didn’t say anything. “How am I supposed to please you if I can’t even get pregnant?” you mumbled.

He furrowed his brows. “What?”

“I mean, we’ve always been taught that in marriages, in order to be a good wife and please your husband, you should have kids.”

“Who the hell taught you that?”

You raised your eyebrows. “School, my family, everyone. I’ve grown up hearing that in order to be a good wife to my husband, I have to give him kids and that’s how we’re supposed to please you.”

He shook his head. “I’ve never been taught to only expect kids from my wife. They’ve been feeding you that bullshit?” You nodded. “For how long?”

“All my life.”

“I’ve grown up learning from my mom that, even if I don’t have kids with the person I marry, I should find someone that I can’t live without. That’s you.”

“Steve-”

“Y/N, you don’t have to bear a child to please me. I am so madly, deeply, stupidly in love with you. There is nothing you can do to make me not love you. You hear me?” You didn’t reply. “Why do you think I proposed to you and married you?”

“You wanted to start a family, but not outside of marriage. Isn’t that why every guy gets married?”

“Nope. Not even close. I mean, that’s a factor, but do you know the real reason I married you?” You still didn’t answer. “I married you to be with you,” he said as he poked you lightly on the chest. “I married you so I could spend the rest of my life with you. Obviously, I do want a family, but, like I said, I’d go a million years without kids if it meant I got to be with you.”

You were only crying harder now. “Steve-”

“I am so fucking in love with you, Y/N. Do you want to know how long it took me to get that ring-” He pointed to your engagement ring on your finger, which was joined by your wedding band, “after we started dating?” You shook your head. “Three days.”

Your eyes got wide. “What?”

“Yep. Three days into our relationship, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. You know why I didn’t propose sooner?” You shook your head again. “We weren’t eighteen. That was the only thing holding me back. I had to wait two years to propose to you because we had to wait until we were adults.”

You looked down at your ring. “They let you buy an engagement ring at sixteen?” you chuckled.

“I guess so. I got it, didn’t I?”

You smiled. “I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you, too.” You squeezed his hands.

“Tell you what. Why don’t we take a break from trying? I mean, we’re only twenty-three. We have time. I know it’s stressing you out. Your head always hurts and you’re always sick. Let’s just wait a little while.”

You nodded. “That would actually be really nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe we can have sex just to have sex, not to make a baby.”

“Absolutely.”

You looked at him and he gave you a small smile.

“I don’t deserve you,” you said, your voice cracking.

“I think I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you.”

You laughed softly. “And if we can’t have our own kids, we can adopt,” you said.

“Absolutely.”

“Take a kid or two out of the system.”

“Absolutely,” he repeated.

You got on your knees and hugged him, the two of you squeezing each other tightly.

“Did I mention that I love you?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure? Because I do.”

“I’m sure,” you giggled. “I love you, too.”

When you pulled away, he looked at you. “Don’t blame yourself, baby. Seriously. It’s not your fault.”

“I know.”

“Okay.”

You pulled him in for one last kiss before heading to the kitchen to start dinner.

—

You, Steve, Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, and Robin all sat in your dining room. For dinner, you made chicken burritos. The kids were all joking around and talking about the arcade when you decided to get their attention.

“So, me and Steve talked today,” you said, clearing your throat. They all looked at you. “I think... we’re gonna stop trying to have a kid for a little while.”

“What?” Lucas asked. “Why?”

“We’ve been trying for four years. I mean, we’ve done IVF-”

“What’s IVF?” Mike asked.

“In vitro. It’s artificial insemination.”

“We’ve done that about six times,” Steve said. “And it hasn’t worked.”

“Nothing we’ve done has worked. So, for now, we’re gonna take a break. I mean, it takes a toll on us.”

They nodded. “Okay. Whenever you get pregnant, that just means we can have someone else to play games with and invite to the arcade,” Lucas said. “Even if we’re older.”

Steve rested his hand on your thigh.

—

Laying in bed and being Steve’s little spoon as he slept caused you to start thinking again.

You didn’t realize it before, but you were more okay with waiting than you thought you would be. Sure, you’d be slightly older when you were pregnant — if you wound up pregnant at all — but you were fine with it.

Knowing that you were with someone like Steve, who didn’t care if you couldn’t have kids, was a relief. You knew you married the right person, and you knew your kids would be right about you two being soulmates.

[meteor752]

I made a joke post about Legolas and Aragorn adopting a baby Geralt and raising him a few weeks ago, but I can’t get it out of my head, so I’m gonna expand on that AU. First post can be found here

So Legolas and Aragorn are basically just out on a vacation in the eastern part of Middle Earth, just taking a break and chilling around you know, when they stumble upon a child just outside the kingdom of Rivia (Yes I am keeping that)

The child is about three or four years old, with the peculiar outward appearance of big Yellow eyes and almost white hair, and it doesn’t seem to mind being out alone in the middle of the forest.

Both Legolas and Aragorn decide though that they will try to find the child’s parents, and they spend two days in Rivia searching for the parent of the child, or just someone who knows something, but they get no results. Most people are repelled by the child, saying that it’s cursed or the result of witchcraft, and both Aragorn and Legolas take offense by that as they had gotten attached to the child.

On the third day they eventually give up, and after a long discussion they decide to adopt the child, as again, they both got attached real fast.

When the two return to Gondor with the small boy whom they named Geralt, a lot of people get quite surprised, mostly because what and why. Their respective families have the same reaction.

The two realize quickly that Geralt is not a normal child.

First, they have no idea what he is. They first thought human, but when small bursts of magic started to come from him, and when his acute sense of smell was discovered, they scratched that idea.

Second, he refused to part with his wolf medallion. They didn’t know why, it had been inspected by a lot of people, including Gandalf himself, but it didn’t seem to have any type of spell or curse on it that made him so fiercely attached to it. And he couldn’t tell them anything about it because-

-Three, he barely speaks. At first they thought he was mute or deaf or something alike, but that didn’t seem to be the case as he could hear, and he did utter a few words here and there. He just chose not to speak, and mostly made cute little grunts when people spoke to him.

Legolas became a mother hen very quickly, and was very loving towards his strange child, and as a child Geralt didn’t mind it too much. As an adult however, then he just wishes his ada would stop smothering him (He secretly loves it).

Aragorn is a lot less lovey dovey, but still very caring and Geralt loves to be around him. He was very quick with teaching his child both sword techniques and manners, but his major priority was teaching him how to care for a horse.

Geralt was not a shy kid as many people believed, When it came down to it he was more than able to voice his opinion. He just, doesn’t like to talk. And because of that fact, he also grew up to be very poor with words and having a problem formulating himself, which backfired a few times in his life.

The thing is, he doesn’t like when others talk either. He just wants to sit around and brood in silence like the angsty boy he is, but none of his family members allow him to, as they are all very chatty and cheery.

Especially his two uncles Elladan and Elrohir and his aunt Tilda, like whenever either one of them are around he can kiss peace and quiet goodbye for at least a few days. It’s even worse when it’s all three.

Geral’t strange magic became a problem early on, as it was very unpredictable. He could do more simple things like start fires and create a protective shield, but also literally manipulate minds, which was not a pleasant thing, especially as he had a hard time controlling it in his youth.

Gandalf tried his best to teach the boy to control his magic, and he did manage to get a hang of it, but sometimes it could still act out in his adulthood when he felt particularly stressed out or angry.

That wasn’t the only problem that came with Geralt being of unknown origin, as sometimes Aragorn and Legolas didn’t know how to properly raise the boy, and what he really needed.

For example, when Geralt was around seven he fell ill. And with that I mean really ill, many feared that he would not survive.

Both Legolas and Aragorn were devastated and the former spent nearly all his time holding and cuddling his shaking and whimpering baby who was in too much pain for the caring parent to handle, and he started to stop eating just to always be able to be by his son’s side.

Aragorn couldn’t afford to drop all of his duties as king, even though he wanted to, but his mind was very absent during everything he did that did not involve caring for Geralt.

Geralt eventually got better, thankfully, but neither Aragorn nor Legolas would ever forget the fear they had felt for almost five months of their still small and fragile son being so close to death.

Geralt’s magic wasn’t only a bunch of negative stuff, it did also come to some benefits in his youth, especially when it came to worrying his Ada.

At around nine Geralt found out that he could temporarily vanish, aka become invisible, if he focused on it enough, which meant that his parents were forced to place a bell on him just to make out where he was. He took it off quite often and would usually be hanging around his frantic Ada, sipping his juice box and watch the scene unfold,

(And I know that’s not really in the Witcher canon, but I just thought it would be cute and this is my AU so fuck off)

Not too long after Geralt got a half elf cousin by the name of Brand, at at first he was confused by the small thing and why he was supposed to care, but as Brand grew older and learned to sit up and make noise, Geralt hated the small thing and just wished for it’s demise. It did not help that his parents loved the kid and would gladly babysit when the thing’s parents were busy, which meant he was forced to be around it.

When Geralt turned twenty two he left Gondor to find his own path (Much to his Ada’s terror because there’s so many ways for him to get hurt Aragorn how are you so calm about this), only equipped with the bare essentials for a life on the road, including a mare he named Roach, a descendant of Brego.

Geralt was very quick to pick up on his father’s habit of having conversations with his horse, and Roach was quite a good listener.

Geralt found his purpose when a child ran up to him while in a village and asked if he could slay the monster that had killed his sister in exchange for money, as his family had seen his swords.

Geralt complied, partly because he could need the money and partly because it would be nice to help, even though his facial expression remained a grim scowl.

And after killing the thing and nearly dying himself in the process, he figures that he needs to do some research on different types of monsters and how to beat take them down before he starts going about.

He also starts carrying potions with him that he acquires from mages and witches across Middle Earth, just to make it easier to hunt and to heal himself after the fact.

But it is not everyone who appreciates his help unfortunately, as many turn him down just by his strange and uncanny appearance, and by his grim attitude that often scare people off.

It does not help that he introduces himself as Geralt of Rivia instead of Geralt Greenleaf of Gondor, just so people wouldn’t know who he was and treat him differently, but it does result in people having no idea he’s the son of a king and a crown prince so they treat him like shit if they want to.

It does not get better by the events in Blaviken, that Geralt would rather not speak off, especially to his parents.

It is first when he meets a young cheery bard that reminds him of an annoying bird that people start to respect him more, after the bard creates a ballad about him.

(Toss a coin would obviously sound a little different since in this AU the term ‘Witcher’ doesn’t exist and I doubt he would “Thrust every elf far back on the shelf” if he himself is part elf by adoption, but it is till toss a coin)

And both Aragorn and Legolas are just delighted at hearing the song because they are just so happy for their son, if not a little confused on why he is called Geralt of Rivia, but still yay!

(The bardlings love singing it together when they are around each other, as they love their nephew and is also all music loving people)

There’s also the mage that he encounters from time to time (And with encounter I mean they fuck, because well, Geralt is related to both Legolas and Tilda after all), whom the Bard, Jaskier, hates.

And then he gets an invitation to the wedding of Arwen and Éowyn while around both Jaskier and the mage, Yennefer, and they both are just as confused because “Wait you have a family?”

And the minute they find out about Geralt’s large, loud and quite famous and royal family, they are both pestering him about following to the wedding because they want to meet the people who raised Geralt, and he gives in after a lot of nagging and begging.

So when Geralt shows up in Rivendell with a brightly dressed bard and a gothic mage, well let’s just say it’s interesting.

Legolas is delighted that his little Gerry has made some friends while also checking on him that he is alright and Geralt hates in while Yen and Jaskier are having a blast.

Jaskier is really smug about the fact that Geralt is actually related to a bard in a way, with his Ada’s step siblings mother being one, and the three take after her with their own musical talent.

Jaskier and Sigrid gush a lot about different songs together.

And Tilda is just shamelessly flirting with the sexy gothic mage while Geralt regrets every single decision he’s ever made.

And of course Brand is there being an asshole while flirting with Jaskier, and again, Geralt regrets everything.

A betting pool is set up on who they think Geralt will end up with, Jaskier or Yennefer.

Geralt just craves death.

***

I tried to incorporate as much of the Witcher lore as I could, but I also had to take into account how Middle Earth works, which is very hard.

I mean, one is Polish and the other from New Zealand.

I don’t know what Geralt is supposed to be exactly, maybe some sort of Fae or Elf half breed, or maybe he is a mutant like the actual Witcher’s.

Anyways, this was fun, and I really wanna make more of this AU, because I love it. It’s not canon in my Universe though, sadly, because it just wouldn’t work.

[rosierossette]

Tempting -

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry I didn’t post earlier! I got caught up at work, and I meant to prepare this post last night and just schedule it, but I got busy and forgot. But without further ado, my fic! 

Work Summary: Working as a Temp for Tony Stark you only expected your life to revolve around sending emails and important papers for Tony Stark. However, all that changed when Loki came to live with the Avengers. Two years later, they still don’t trust Loki and need someone to constantly watch over him and keep him from causing Mischief. Given the magical ability to control Loki with your words, your journey begins as you try to carefully tread the line between keeping Loki safe and keeping others from harm. But trying to control Loki has more problems than you’re ready for, and soon you discover why he’s the God of Mischief, and how much he’s willing to sacrifice for his freedom.

Warnings: None for this chapter. (I think? I’m not sure what needs tagging and what doesn’t. RIP). 

3001 words (Pain in the ass my dudes.)

Chapter 2

It had been a long exhausting day in the Avengers tower. Everyone was busy preparing for another mission, for another unknown species to attack, just something to go wrong in general. Fortunately enough, you were just a temp so you didn’t have to get all sweaty like everyone else was. You just spent your time writing up documents, emails and anything Stark needed you for. 

You were pretty much an errand girl for the Avengers, constantly leaving and entering the tower when they needed something. 

The only person however you were not required to follow was Loki. In fact, according to Stark, Loki had to follow your orders. Which was odd, considering the thousand-year-plus age difference between you, but you didn’t complain. It was weird at first having to order Loki around, but then you actually met him and realized you were perfectly fine with it. 

The first time you met him he called you a ‘simpering mortal fool’ and you immediately hated his guts. You had tried to be nice, in fact, you tried very hard. Then he insulted the way you spoke, and you’d had enough. 

Luckily for you, Odin, with much convincing from Thor, cast a spell on Loki, he would have to obey your every order. It so happened that your first order was for him to shut up and get over himself. Apparently, get over yourself in magic terms meant for him to do a very entertaining flip. You snorted, very loudly, and he growled. Although his mouth was closed and he couldn’t open it even if he had wanted to. 

You tried very hard to watch your words around him after that. There was no need to make the situation worse than it already was. Hard as that may be. 

You didn’t need him to hate you or the situation any more than he already did. But you couldn’t help the absolute relish you felt over the fact that a simpering mortal had control over a Norse God, and there was nothing he could do about it. It was not at all the way you thought your time at the Avengers tower was going to go, but who were you to complain about it? 

Unfortunately for you, your lack of complaining granted you more opportunities to hang around the emotional God. In the form of you now being Loki’s babysitter while the Avengers all went out on any mission that came up. Apparently even after two years of living with him, they still had a difficult time believing he wouldn’t try to kill them once the opportunity was presented. So of course, the Avengers usually opted to leave him home, something about him being untrustworthy. 

Loki, untrustworthy? I don’t see it. You rolled your eyes.

He didn’t exactly make it easy on himself, did he? All the stunts he pulled on the daily to prank anyone and everyone didn’t exactly help his case. This morning he had decided that locking Banner in his room until he went Hulk and smashed the door down was a good use of his time. While you did see the humor in it (Stark’s face when he saw the destruction was absolutely priceless), you also understood where the Avengers were coming from. 

You immediately commanded Loki to clean up his mess, and he glared daggers at you the entire time he did so. It wasn’t your fault that he kept causing useless destruction. It also wasn’t your fault that because of said incident, the Avengers had once again elected to leave Loki in the tower, with you as a not-so-willing babysitter. 

The sound of Loki’s coughing reminded you of your babysitting duties. Something you were not looking forward to. Loki made it very clear that he hated it as well. You imagined Loki as a baby drinking a sippy cup and you giggled. You’d rather babysit baby Loki than baby Loki. At least baby Loki would whine less. 

“Think you’re on babysitting duty one more time…” Loki’s voice trailed off as he read his book. You laughed softly. Luckily it was a pretty easy babysitting job. Even if the child in question was a bit too sarcastic and mischevious for his own good. He turned his head back towards you with a look that clearly said, ‘What did I just say?” You rolled your eyes. “Sorry,” and kept working on the computer. 

A few minutes later and the sound of Loki rising from his couch reminded you of your duties. “Where are you going?” You asked as you continued typing away. You hadn’t even looked up, the email was too important for you to stop working on. 

“Asgard.” His voice was full of boredom. 

You sighed in annoyance. “Where are you going?”

He finally answered, “I’m going to my hovel, my prison, my hell,” he sighed dramatically, brushing a hand over his face. “I’m going to my room, mother.” 

“I’m not your mother, just your babysitter-” You picked up your computer and followed him to his room, “-which means I have the absolute pleasure of going where you go, my child.” 

“I am not a child,” he growled at you as you entered his room. “And you are not invited in!” He turned to shove you out of the room, but you ducked just in time. He growled angrily, light surrounding his hands. 

Your heart thumped in fear, then it rapidly turned to anger. You didn’t want to be here any more than he did. It wasn’t your fault he hadn’t learned to control himself and his emotions. You had things you’d rather be doing as well, and watching him was not on your list. Why he felt the need to blame you for the Avengers idea was beyond you. What were you supposed to do? Not do what the Avengers asked of you? You not only needed this job, but you loved this job. You weren’t crazy enough to lose it. And it was the Avengers. They could kick your ass if they really wanted to. 

“Loki.” No response. Why he felt like dragging this out was beyond you. 

“Loki.” Still nothing. You were seething at this point.  

“Loki!” You growled at him loudly, causing him to look at you in surprise. 

“What?” He asked softly, his voice barely hiding his anger. He had forgotten about that commanding spell you had, and it didn’t make him any happier. 

You tossed the laptop onto the bed before putting your hands up in annoyance. “Loki, calm down and listen to me.” You walked backward until you were sitting on his bed, facing him. “I don’t want to do this as much as you don't want me to do it,” you growled lightly. “But unfortunately we’re both expected to follow the rules, and one of the rules is I can’t leave you alone!” 

“I am a King! I do not need a babysitter!” He hissed. He plopped down next to you on the bed, both of you seething. 

It took a few minutes before the both of you calmed down enough to think straight. This situation was annoying, and it was unfair for the Avengers to do this to the both of you, but what could you do? 

At least you both felt the same way about this. That helped make things easier, or at least you hoped so. You doubted you’d both come to some kind of agreement, but it made doing this less difficult. “I’m sorry Loki,” Loki arched his eyebrows in surprise. “I’m kind of a control freak, which doesn’t make any of this easier, for either of us.” You sent a small smile his way. 

“And I am the God of Mischief-” he turned to you, smirking, “-so I think that makes us even.” 

Picking up your laptop, you began leaving the room. “Well, I’ll just be working in the kitchen if you get bored.” Loki nodded, and you set up your things back on the dining room table. 

Less than an hour later, Loki strolled into the room carrying one of his many books. He nodded towards you in acknowledgment, and then promptly sat down on the sofa in the connecting living room. 

You continued working on your assignments from Stark, the keys clacking as you tapped them quickly. Satisfied that Loki wasn’t in as bad of a mood, you finished typing out your long paper about the properties of some of the Chitauri weapons that had been found recently. Stark was worried about the chance of the slime-like powers getting to humans and negatively affecting them, but so far no reports of people going crazy had been made. But ever diligent, Stark and Banner set out to make different experiments on the slime, that way we were prepared if any difficulties did arise. 

You could feel your back beginning to ache from sitting too long, and got up to make you some tea.  You smoothed out your skirt while looking for the teas, something you did without really thinking about it. Finally finding them, you selected a particular favorite herbal tea of yours. You found herbal teas to be your favorite and whipped out your favorite apple cinnamon. While you waited for your tea to steep, you glanced over at Loki. He hadn’t moved from his position since he sat down. 

“Loki?” You hesitantly called out as you walked over. He made a noise of acknowledgment but did no more. “Would you like me to make you some tea? I’m already making me some, so I figured while I was here-” 

“No, thank you.” He went back to his reading. If you hadn’t seen his mouth move, you would have assumed he hadn’t spoken at all. 

You shrugged but went to go grab your tea and set it down beside your computer at the table. At least I can say that I tried you grumbled to yourself. 

------

Night had fallen when you finally stood, finished with all your work. The Avengers still hadn’t returned, so you were still on Loki duty. You looked over at Loki and found him still reading, not an ounce of weariness lined his face. 

Your stomach grumbled a good reminder that you had neglected yourself all day. You had gotten a lot done today, considering the babysitting you got to do. You stretched, your back popping, and you sighed in contentment.  

Much better. You had sat far longer than you meant to.  

You rummaged through the fridge, finding something you could possibly make for dinner. You thought about asking Loki if he was hungry, but he would probably lie only to come back to make food when you fell asleep. 

Your mind came across one recipe in particular that you could make, and upon seeing all the ingredients you needed, rounded everything up to make it. You weren’t sure it would be up to Loki’s taste, but you figured he wasn’t going to actually eat whatever you made anyway. So why struggle to make something to his standards, when you could eat something you actually enjoy? 

So you went to work. You cooked the pasta, you make the delicious sauce, and you cooked the chicken. The kitchen was starting to get a bit hot with all the different burners, so you took off the suit jacket you wore all day, and put your hair up into a loose pony. The light pink shirt you wore underneath the jacket had short sleeves, and you were thankful for the decision earlier in the day. 

Finally, when all the ingredients were cooked, you found pan to mix the pasta, sauce, and chicken in, then promptly covered the mixture with delicious white cheese and threw the entire thing in the oven to cook even more. While the oven worked its magic, you washed the pans and counters, leaving no evidence as to your work other than the smell that filled the room. 

When you had finished your cleaning you took the food out of the oven; the smell of the Chicken Alfredo made you smile happily. Mama would be proud of my work. You were even happier at the thought. 

You fixed a plate for Loki and brought it over to him, setting it on the coffee table next to him. “I made some chicken alfredo if you’re hungry.” You gestured towards the plate. “I only gave you a little bit, I wasn’t sure how hungry you’d be.” You stood up and headed towards the kitchen to make yourself a plate.

You took a bite and moaned softly. Damn, I’m good! You tried your hardest to not eat too fast, but you were absolutely starving and it was one of your favorites. When you finished what was on your plate and decided to get more, you looked to Loki and noticed his plate completely empty. 

“There’s more in the kitchen if you want some.” 

Loki looked up from his book lazily. “No, thank you. I try not to poison myself willingly.” He gestured towards his plate, “This thing you call a meal wasn’t even tempting enough to consider poisoning me.” And just like that, he was back in his book. 

Ouch. At least he’s honest? You tried to look at the bright side, but that stung a little bit. Yes, you weren’t exactly the royal Asgardian chef he was used to, but you thought you did alright. You followed your mom’s recipe, and even though it didn’t exactly taste like hers, it was close. 

You did do a good job, but that didn’t make you feel better. 

You swallowed a lump in your throat. Cooking was the one thing you were proud of and hearing someone say so nonchalantly that they hated your cooking hurt. You felt tears prick and the corners of your eyes and shook your head. You were not about to cry about it. Loki was a jerk, and you were well aware of that fact. 

So you walked away, grabbed your empty plate and headed towards the food for more. But as you stared at the pan, you were no longer hungry. You put the food away, washed the remaining dishes, including Loki’s, and started towards a spare bedroom in the tower. Since the Avengers had yet to return, you were stuck babysitting Loki overnight. 

Before you walked out of the room to start your search, you stood in front of Loki and cleared your throat. When he finally decided you were worth looking at, you spoke. “I’m going to bed. I’ve had a long day, and I have an even longer day ahead of me.” 

“If you’re after a good night, you’ve come to the wrong place.” Loki started to read his book again. 

“I’m not-” You were trying very hard not to be offended. “-I’m not after a good night. At least not from someone like you.” Loki looked up at you, annoyed over the fact that you hadn’t left him alone yet. “You’re to go to your room immediately, stay there all night, and not perform any kind of bullshit until I come to get you in the morning.” You reached your limit. You were annoyed. “Understood?” 

“Understood.” Loki snapped?. He quickly stood up, gathered his things and made his way towards his room. Slamming his door behind him was his way of defying your magical orders. 

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding and made your way to a spare room. When you had finally found one, you plopped down on the bed, just taking in the scenery. You realized you had no pajamas to wear and no clothes to change into tomorrow and cursed softly. You’d have to make a trip for new clothes. You debated going tonight, and just getting it over with, but you were exhausted. Not so much physically as you were mentally and emotionally. 

Watching Loki really put a lot out of you, and you really hadn’t even done that much. 

Deciding that you didn’t care, you opted to sleep in your bra and panties. Then when you had to go get clothes in the morning, at least you wouldn’t look completely ragged. You set your clothes on a chair, flattening them out in the hopes of avoiding wrinkles. Your hands rubbed over your clothes absentmindedly. Your thoughts lingered on the events on the day and having to deal with Loki and his many moods. 

You thought about using your commands on him and felt bad, but then remembered his penchant for trouble and the way he mocked your cooking and you lost your sympathy for him. He didn’t have to be a jerk about everything, and it wasn’t your fault if he chose to be so. Nodding your head in agreement with yourself, you laid down on the bed. 

You tried your absolute hardest to sleep, but it evaded you. You were uncomfortable. New bed, just you and Loki, sleeping at the place you work. There were many reasons for your discomfort. 

It’s just for a couple more nights. You thought to yourself. When the Avengers get back, I’ll get a nice paycheck from Tony, and I can go home and relax. You thought to yourself all the different things you’d do with that extra money but nothing came to you. You huffed at yourself in annoyance. Surely there was something you’d want? 

Clothes. I’ll buy more work clothes. Perfect! You really only had two dress suits to choose from at the moment, it would be nice to have more options. 

Besides, I’m around so many attractive men, it’d be nice to look a little more put together. You smiled softly. It was true, you did work with quite a few sexy hunks, why not dress to impress, right? 

You were starting to doze off thinking of all the men you worked with. When you finally did fall asleep, it was to the image of Loki blissfully reading while you worked. 

[inawickedlittletown]

The Heart is Hard to Translate (buddie one-shot)

Summary: In which going to therapy helps Eddie figure out his feelings. 

Ship: Buck/Eddie

Words: 3,342

Notes: This was a plot bunny from the other night. I was thinking about Eddie in therapy and also his conversation with Bobby and so this happened. Enjoy.

Title from Florence and the Machine's "All This and Heaven Too" which is absolutely fitting and just a gorgerous song.  

Read on Ao3

----

“So, tell me, Eddie, how does this all fit in with Buck? Why were you so angry at him?”

Therapy was kind of...no, it was stupid. Eddie hated it. He wasn’t good with talking about things and he was especially not good at talking about his feelings. But going to therapy was one of the conditions of being able to keep working after Bobby found out about the fighting. And if Eddie was going to be really honest, he had to admit that there was something to it even if he didn’t feel entirely comfortable being there. 

“Because of the lawsuit,” Eddie said. “It was so dumb. He does stupid stuff like that all the time.”

The therapist, Frank, nodded. “Okay. I get that. But he wanted his job back, right? That’s why he did it.”

“I know,” Eddie said. 

In retrospect, he understood Buck’s side of it a lot more. He understood that Buck wasn’t being selfish or doing it maliciously but that he was doing it out of sheer desperation. Buck had been angry at Bobby and angry at the situation and he’d done the only thing he could think to do. Eddie understood that. He more than understood anger. 

“He didn’t talk to me about it,” Eddie said. “He just — one day we’re hanging out and he’s babysitting my son and then the next I get told by Bobby that I’m not allowed to talk to him and that he’s not allowed to talk to me. He just left us. He left us with no warning and without a care because what he wanted mattered more than anything else that might have been going on.”

“Hmm. So this would have been better if he came to you about it first.”

Eddie shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe. Probably.”

“Except that if he came to you with the idea, you would have told him not to do it. Right? Even if Buck felt that it was the only way he was getting his job back the possibility that you would change his mind was there.”

“The job was always his. He’s on blood thinners...he just had to wait until he didn’t need them anymore. The job was always his.” 

Eddie didn’t understand why they were talking about Buck. He didn’t get the point of it when he and Bobby had already established that his anger and his pain and all the repressed feelings were about Shannon and Shannon’s death. Maybe all the stuff with Buck had been going on at the same time, but it all went back to Shannon. Not Buck.

“So, you were angry with him.”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah.”

“But why did Buck doing that make you so angry? I mean, I get it...he’s your partner at work and you’re close friends. You rely on him for child care—”

Eddie cut Frank off. “I don’t know,” he said. “I just couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stand that I couldn’t call him when I needed him and that I couldn’t see him. My son kept asking for him and after the tsunami and everything they went through together I knew Buck was the perfect person to speak to Chris. But I couldn’t call him. I wasn’t allowed to. And somehow, he was okay with that. He made that choice. He didn’t care that he couldn’t call me...he didn’t care about Christopher or his well being. Buck just cared about Buck.”

His therapist wrote something down on his notebook. “But Buck didn’t owe you any of that. He’s not your child’s primary caretaker, he clearly had his own problems to deal with. Including his own trauma from the tsunami.”

“He wasn’t supposed to leave us. He wasn’t supposed to leave me. Not like—”

“Shannon,” Frank finished for him. 

Eddie felt like he’d been punched in the gut. It was all right there. It made absolute sense. It was about Shannon, but it was about Buck too. He’d come to rely on Buck and then Buck wasn’t there anymore and the way that Christopher had asked for him had felt like when Christopher was asking for his mom the first time she left them. Buck left them...it was just like when Shannon did. 

“But he did and he came back. Are you still angry?”

When he thought about it, maybe, but not like before. It was different...more muted. 

“I’m not angry with Buck,” Eddie said. 

“And what is the nature of his role in your life now?” Frank said and he seemed to be scrutinizing Eddie closely. 

“He’s my friend. I work with him,” Eddie said and he had no idea what he was getting at. 

“But in your mind you see him as important in your life as Shannon was and not just yours but your son’s as well. I want you to think about that, Eddie.”

Eddie did think about that. He sort of thought about it a lot. The thing of it was that maybe he’d allowed Buck to become so important in his life that when he wasn’t there it felt like Shannon all over. He’d come to rely on Buck for too much...maybe more than he ever should have at all. But Eddie had never had a friend like Buck before — a best friend. So maybe that’s what it was. Their closeness and how lost he’d felt when he couldn’t reach for his phone and text or call Buck. How in his anger he’d ended up arrested and unable to call the one person that would bail him out no questions asked. Lena had been an option only because she was practically a stranger. Eddie was lucky that he’d had her phone number at all. 

And then, Eddie had to wonder about how he would have felt if anyone else at the 118 did what Buck did. He was friends with Hen in part because Denny and Christopher got along well enough to prompt playdates, but if Hen had been the one in Buck’s shoes...well, Eddie didn’t think he would have been mad at all. Not like with Buck. 

That night, he and Christopher went over to Buck’s place. It was only the second time that they were hanging out outside of work since Buck had returned and Eddie forgave him and Eddie could easily admit that all the therapy in the world could never hold candle to how much better he felt about everything when he was standing next to Buck and when they were together. 

It was all the therapy that Eddie needed. 

Maybe he did need Buck to stop apologizing for everything less. Because he was forgiven and because all of Eddie’s anger...it was misplaced and wrong and it wasn’t because he was angry at Buck at all. More like maybe he had been angry at himself. 

He had another session a week later and he spent a lot of the time between sessions ruminating over all of it. In the meanwhile, Buck was his partner at work and they could work side by side and bump shoulders and share smiles. Some days they went to their separate homes, but other nights they were together at his or Buck’s with Christopher. It was how they belonged, he realized. Together. Him and Buck and Christopher. 

“So, Eddie, did you think about what I said last time?” 

Eddie nodded and he couldn’t help a smile. “I did.”

“And?” 

“I think maybe I love him. I love Buck.”

“Yes. I think so too. And is that cause for panic? Or is that a good thing?”

Therapists asked too many questions. They pried and they wanted to get to the bottom of things and it wasn’t something that Eddie enjoyed. Per Bobby he really only had a few more sessions to go. 

“No. I don’t think it is. I think it makes everything make sense.” 

Eddie just didn’t know if Buck felt the same way or if he could even consider them an option. Hell, Eddie didn’t even know if Buck was attracted to men. Clearly, Eddie was, even if it was a part of himself that he hadn’t thought about for a long time. He’d had a wife and that had eliminated everyone else from his radar, even the gorgeous blue eyed firefighter that made him take a double take the first day they met. 

“And that explains your anger better, doesn’t it? And now, Eddie, I do want to make it clear that what you’re going through cannot be fixed by another person. Buck can’t be the answer to your problems. It isn’t fair to him and it isn’t fair to you. So you love him. But loving him isn’t enough to extinguish all your pain or your anger and the fear of abandonment.” 

“But—”

Frank shook his head. “I can’t say it’s wrong that you’ve figured out how you feel about Buck. I’m completely behind you on that but are you ready to tell him that? Are you ready to find out what that means for him? I don’t want to be negative, Eddie, but if he doesn’t return these feelings, will you feel abandoned again? Will that bring the anger back?”

Eddie didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say. The thing was that Frank only really knew Buck through everything Eddie had told him. He couldn’t know the kind of person that Buck was. Buck wouldn’t leave. Even if he never felt the same way about Eddie, he wouldn’t leave. That wasn’t Buck. 

“He won’t leave,” Eddie said. 

“Why?”

“Because he’s Buck. He doesn’t run away from anything. He fought to get back to his job and to me. I didn’t even realize that’s what it was — I was mad at him over it. He fought to find Christopher during the tsunami. He isn’t Shannon.”

Frank was smiling. “No, he’s not. And it’s clear your faith in him is strong. I think there’s still a lot we can keep discussing. I think everything you’ve gone through has left marks that we can keep working through. I want to keep meeting with you, Eddie, even after our mandated sessions are over.” 

Eddie nodded. Maybe he could keep going to them and he could keep talking through his problems. Frank, after all, had been the one to get Eddie to realize his feelings. 

That afternoon, when he got home he found Christopher curled up with Buck on the couch. They were watching Dumbo of all things — the classic animated version. 

“Daddy! You’re home!” Christopher’s head poked over the top of the couch and Eddie leaned over to give him a quick hug. 

“Hey, kiddo.” 

He managed to kiss Chris’ head as he turned back to the movie. 

“Hey,” Eddie said, looking at Buck. “Where’s Carla?” 

“I was bored so I stopped by. Told her she could go home early if she wanted. I figured I could hang out with Christopher until you got home. How was it?” 

Buck’s head was tipped back on his couch. His lips were turned up into a smile and his eyes were so deeply blue in the light. 

“It was good. Kind of getting the hang of the whole thing,” Eddie said. 

“Oh. That’s good. No more impulses to hit something?” 

“Nope. Not currently.” 

There were other impulses instead. He wanted to reach out and touch Buck’s face and trace his features with his fingers until he could memorize him under touch. He wanted to mess up his hair. He wanted to kiss him and to kiss the birthmark on his eyebrow because he loved the way it stood out on his face, making him just that much more interesting. Eddie wanted to hug him and never let him go. He wanted to grasp his hand. He wanted more than he could ever hope to get.

“Eddie? You alright, man?” 

Eddie blinked. He’d been standing there just staring at Buck. 

“I — yeah, I’m good.”

“Well, you don’t have anything to do right now. Come join us.”

“Yeah, daddy. Come watch the movie.”

Eddie nodded. He dropped his things on the table by the couch and then sat down on Buck’s side. He tried to keep his distance but Chris reached over Buck to grab his hand and so he had to move closer. Their legs were touching and so were their shoulders and Buck’s weight sort of settled into him. It felt right. 

It was later. Much later, after they’d watched another two movies and gotten take-out for dinner, that Eddie realized that any tension that he’d had left over from the therapy session was gone. Any worry about what might happen if he told Buck had dissipated enough that he could consider doing it. 

It was a school night so even though Christopher tried to argue against it, Eddie made him get up and get ready for bed. Buck jumped in to help and wound up reading a quick bedtime story to Christopher once the boy had made it into his bed. 

“Goodnight, buddy,” Buck said. 

“Love you, Buck.” 

“Love you too,” Buck said and his voice was tinged with emotion. 

Christopher would always be braver than him. Eddie had no idea if he could say those three words out loud and directed at Buck. 

“Love you, daddy,” Christopher added after Eddie had kissed his forehead.��

“Goodnight. I love you, kid.” 

“That was something,” Buck said afterwards, back in Eddie’s living room. 

“What can I say, you’ve made an impression on us,” Eddie said. 

“Us?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie said and looking at Buck and how he shifted his feet nervously, it gave Eddie the strength. If he didn’t do this, he would regret it. “I talked about you a lot in therapy.”

“Because you were angry at me?” Buck asked. 

Eddie gave a short nod and then because he thought that standing made the whole thing weird he motioned for Buck to sit and he sat down next to him. They were turned towards each other leaving space between them. Their knees brushed together. 

“I don’t think I was ever really angry at you. I was angry because you weren’t here and it felt like that meant that I wasn’t enough for you because you just went and started that lawsuit and you didn’t even think about talking to me about it first. You didn’t consider me or Christopher in your decision and Frank helped me realize why I felt like I should have had a voice in all of it.”

Buck didn’t seem to know what to say and Eddie didn’t know if he could continue. 

“Ed, you know it was a spur of the moment decision, right? I was angry at Bobby. The lawyer had already put the idea in my head and it made sense. I wasn’t thinking about anything else but the job and getting back to it and to you and everyone else.”

“I know,” Eddie said. “I know.” They’d gone over it enough times. 

“It was me not thinking about anyone. Not because you’re not good enough. That’s — that’s ridiculous. You can’t ever think like that about yourself ever again.”

Eddie let out a sigh. “I guess Shannon did more damage than I ever noticed. Did you know she wanted a divorce? Told me so a few nights before she—”

Buck’s hand had found his and Eddie focused on the touch. It was grounding. It was necessary. It was everything and Eddie wanted to always have the option of holding that hand. 

“It felt like that, when I found out about the lawsuit. Like when Shannon left,” Eddie admitted. 

“It wasn’t about you,” Buck said. “I was just—”

“No, Buck. I know. I know. I don’t blame you for what you did, Buck. I get it. I really do, now. But at the time it hurt and it was because I connected the two things and not being able to talk to you was the last straw in my sanity. I don’t know.”

Buck squeezed his hand. “It was hard for me too. Harder when you kept giving me the cold shoulder.”

“Oh, god. I know. I know. I’m so sorry about it, Buck. I was such an—”

“You were understandably upset, dude. We’re past it.”

Eddie nodded. They could leave it at that. It could be enough. But looking at Buck and knowing that Buck’s hand was on his...Eddie had to tell him. Even if Buck never saw him that way, he couldn’t keep his feelings secret. 

“There’s a reason I felt so strongly. It was my therapist that helped me see it.”

“Yeah?” 

“I, um, it’s because I...I have feelings for you, Buck.”

“You have feelings for me,” Buck said. “Eddie, I—”

Eddie was quick to interrupt. “You don’t have to say anything. Buck, I’ll understand if you don’t—”

Buck’s index finger pressed against his lips and when their eyes met, Eddie could tell that Buck wasn’t upset or angry or any of it. He wasn’t even confused or trying to figure something out. Instead, he was a touch amused and maybe nervous and his lips were quirking up into a smile. 

“You’re more than enough, Eddie. To me, you’re enough. You’re everything.” 

Buck’s finger remained on his lips, so Eddie reached up and grasped Buck’s wrist, pulling his hand away but keeping his hold on Buck’s wrist.  “What are you saying?”

“That it’s possible I’ve been in love with you from the first time I saw you.”

“And then you were kind of a jerk?” Eddie asked.

Buck chuckled. “Didn’t really know what to do about it, did I? And, I was a little jealous.”

“A lot.”

Buck scoffed and he looked like he was ready to argue but he shook his head. “That...it doesn’t matter. Is this going to be like this always? Because if you’re going to keep teasing me, then I’ll take it back. Maybe it’s Chim that I love. Maybe I’m only here because of your kid and—”

Eddie loved him. He loved this man that loved him back. And Buck was talking but Eddie was hardly hearing it, so when he leaned forward and pressed their lips together when Buck was mid word, he had no idea what he’d interrupted. Buck kissed him back in less than a second, pressing back into the kiss but letting Eddie lead. Their lips moved together and when Buck’s hand came up to cup Eddie’s jaw, Eddie pressed ever closer, his arms drawing Buck against him until Eddie was pressed into the armrest of the chair and Buck was leaning into him and they just kept kissing and kissing and kissing. 

He loved him. 

Buck loved him back. 

When they were giggling against each other little giddy school children, Eddie felt like everything was finally right. Buck kissed down his jaw and pecked his lips and then his fingers were tracing his cheek bones before they were kissing again. And Eddie never wanted it to end. 

A week later, Eddie told Frank that he told Buck. That Buck loved him back. 

“I’m glad. But, like I said, Eddie, there’s still a lot of work for us to do.”

“I know. I just...I think I’m happy.”

“That’s good. I’m glad. It’s a start for where I’d love for you to be.”

That night, Christopher cuddled between him and Buck. Christopher had insisted that after he was done with his homework that they needed to watch Cinderella. He was on a real Disney classics phase but Eddie didn’t mind. Even with Christopher between them, Buck had reached over and his fingers were a ghost touch on his neck and shoulder. Eddie turned occasionally to grasp his hand and kiss it. 

Things were going to be okay. And maybe the whole therapy thing wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. But mostly, he was glad for Buck and how much better everything was with Buck at his side. 

---

Notes: I do like to think that eventually Buck ends up going to therapy once all his trauma catches up to him and it happens to be with Frank and Frank already knows way too much about Buck before he even meets him. Let me know what you all thought! 

[searchingwardrobes]

Start of Time: 2/?

Here it is finally, the second chapter of this fic!! Sorry it’s taken me so long to get this up, @teamhook ! I also have no idea how long this is going to be. Looking at my outline, it should be at least six chapters.

Remember that Emma can’t remember her name in this, so Emma is just “she” at first in this chapter, then “Wendy” later on. (You’ll see why once you read the chapter). I won’t lie, writing a story in which Emma can’t remember her name and no one else knows it either has been a big challenge. Hopefully I wrote it a way everyone can follow!

Rating: T

Trigger warning: Alice Jones appears in this but is Killian’s adopted daughter with Milah, and so is Henry. Henry has no relation to Emma in this. There is also positive past Millian.

Also on Ao3 and part of my Fandom Birthday Playlist.

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells​ @teamhook​ @kmomof4​ @let-it-raines​@whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @xhookswenchx​ @jennjenn615​ @kday426​ @welllpthisishappening​ @wellhellotragic​ @winterbaby89​ @stahlop​ @spartanguard​ @shireness-says​ @scientificapricot​ @xhookswenchx​ @distant-rose​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @vvbooklady1256​ @thislassishooked​ @bethacaciakay​ @hollyethecurious​ @nikkiemms​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @optomisticgirl​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @branlovestowrite​ @tiganasummertree​ @snidgetsafan​ 

I'm an atom in a sea of nothing

Looking for another to combine

Maybe we could be the start of something

Be together at the start of time

When she awoke again, the sun shone brightly through the curtains. She struggled to sit up, her mouth dry and tasting of cotton. Her head still ached, but it no longer throbbed. How long had she slept? Was the sun this bright when she woke up before? She heard sounds outside her door as she swung herself slowly around and stood up. The room spun a bit, but once she took a few deep breaths, she was able to walk across the room easily enough. Her clothes were folded neatly on top of a white dresser, and she made quick work of changing out of the pajamas. The fabric was warm and smelled of fabric softener - someone had washed them.

Speaking of washing, she suddenly realized how greasy her hair was. She could actually smell her own body odor, which was never good. It made her wonder again just how long she had been asleep. A shower would be nice, but she wasn’t about to ask such a thing of complete strangers. They had been kind, she understood that, but she couldn’t stay here any longer.

When she exited her door, she was struck by the quaint log cabin style of the home. Her bedroom was at the end of an open hallway that looked out over a great room with high beamed ceilings of exposed wood. On the other side of a stone fireplace, she could see the dark haired man named Killian at the stove in the kitchen.

She made her way quickly down the stairs and through the living area. She paused at the threshold of the kitchen, and when she did, the family’s chattering stopped abruptly. Little Alice sat at the kitchen island spreading jam on toast. A boy with dark hair just a shade lighter than Killian’s stood by the sink pouring glasses of orange juice. A woman with a dark pixie cut stood with mouth agape clutching a fistfull of silverware. For some reason, the domestic scene made a lump rise in her throat.

“You’re up!” Killian exclaimed with a wide grin. He lifted the pan of scrambled eggs he was stirring. “Would you like some breakfast?”

“Um, no thank you,” she replied nervously. “I um . . . I thank you and your wife for everything you’ve done -”

The woman interrupted her with an exuberant laugh. “Oh no, I’m not his wife. My husband David and Killian are best friends. Killian was delivering a foal at our farm last night, so I came over to babysit Alice.”

“I am not a baby,” protested Alice with a pout that said otherwise.

“Excuse me,” the woman corrected with a pointed smile at the little girl, “I was having girl time with Alice, my favorite seven year old.”

Alice tilted her chin with satisfaction than started slathering jam on another piece of toast.

“I’m Mary Margaret,” the woman said as she turned her attention back to their visitor. She extended her hand.

“I - um, that is, I . . .” Shit! What was the social protocol when you didn’t remember your own damn name?

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Mary Margaret exclaimed snatching her hand back. “I forgot.”

“Sooo, what are you doing here if you two aren’t married? At breakfast?” She shook her head and rubbed her temple. Why was she still talking? “Um, I’m sorry. How long have I been asleep?”

All four of the people before her spoke at once, but only Mary Margaret’s words penetrated her brain.

“Awhile.”

“You slept forever!”

“I was worried you were dead!”

“Oh honey, we’re snowed in.”

She shook her head as she tried to comprehend Mary Margaret’s words. “Um, okay, that’s a problem, I know, but I can’t stay here. I mean, I don’t . . . that is to say . . . I’m just, um, gonna go, okay?”

She inched her way backwards towards the front door as she spoke, stumbling once over a toy lightsaber. Killian rushed forward, and that only made her dart for the door faster.

“We really are snowed in, love,” Killian insisted as she reached for the doorknob.

“Well, I’ll just walk to the nearest town, or -” her words ended abruptly as she opened the door to a wall of white. The snow was packed in hard, letting in not a trace of light, yet the snow on the threshold had melted enough to tumble inside over her feet. She let out a gasp as the cold seeped through the leather of her thin, stylish boots.

“I told you we were snowed in,” Killian told her with a lopsided grin and a sparkle in his eyes.

She sheepishly tried to kick the loose snow back outside, amazed that he wasn’t at least irritated with her. Shoving the door shut was something else entirely, and it took both of them to get it done.

Hands shaking, she made her way over to a cozy armchair angled towards the roaring fire. She stared at the flames as fear clawed at her chest. Killian came over and sat on the edge of the wide hearth, tilting his head a bit so he could look into her eyes.

“I know you’re confused and frightened, but I promise you you’re safe here. We’ve got plenty of firewood and food, even a generator if the power goes out -”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” she whispered.

He nodded in understanding. “We’re strangers, and I can’t imagine how terrifying this all must be. I know it takes trust to believe this, but we really just want to help you and make you feel at home.”

She glanced up to see Mary Margaret perched on the arm of the chair, smiling down at her encouragingly. Alice sat down next to her father, and he put his arm around the little girl and brushed a kiss to the top of her head. Surely a man with such obvious affection for his daughter couldn’t be dangerous. Right?

The boy stood a bit shyly behind Alice and Killian, shuffling his feet a bit before stepping forward to offer her his hand. “You were passed out when you met me in the truck. I’m Henry.”

She merely nodded as she took the child’s hand, still not sure how to respond with no memory of who she was.

“That does it!” Mary Margaret exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “We have to call you something. You sure you don’t know your name?”

She scrunched her face up, thinking as hard as she could, but all she could come up with was darkness, snow, and pain. She bit her lip as she shook her head in the negative.

Mary Margaret shrugged. “So we give you a name!”

Killian narrowed his eyes at his friend. “MM, we can’t just name her like she’s our pet.”

“Why not?” Mary Margaret shot back. “Alice doesn’t have a creature in this place for more than five minutes without it having a name.”

“I have a white rabbit named Tick Tock,” Alice told her eagerly, “and a turtle named Mossy, and a frog named Prince, and two goldfish -”

“You can introduce her to your menagerie later, Starfish,” Killian chuckled as he ruffled Alice’s hair.”

“We can pick a name from one of our favorite books!” Henry exclaimed. “Alice is already taken, but what do you think of Lucy like the Narnia books?”

She wrinkled her nose.

“Fern like in Charlotte’s Web?” Alice suggested.

“Fern!” Henry exclaimed. “Seriously? Charlotte would be better!”

“Charlotte is a spider,” Alice shot back before sticking her tongue out at her brother.

“What about Wendy?” Killian asked.

“Dad’s favorite is Peter Pan,” Henry explained.

“Yeah, but he like’s Hook best, not Peter,” put in Alice.

“Hey!” Killian chuckled, poking each of his children playfully in the tummy. “Hook is just misunderstood.”

She narrowed her eyes. Wendy . . . “That name sounds familiar,” she told them softly.

Killian smiled at her. “Perhaps because it’s yours?”

“Or maybe it’s someone you know?” Mary Margaret put in helpfully.

She shook her head, frustrated. Every time she thought of the name Wendy, it was as if she were squinting into the fog, trying to make out a figure in the distance.

“I don’t know!”

“It’s okay,” Mary Margaret said gently, patting her hand, “it will come to you, I’m sure of it.”

“And we’ll get the doctor out here just as soon as the weather clears enough for the snow mobiles,” Killian added, “as well as the sheriff. I’m sure someone you love is looking for you.”

She nodded and attempted to give him a small smile.

“So, are we gonna call her Wendy or what?” Henry asked.

“Don’t be so rude!” Alice yelled.

“I’m not!”

“Get along, please,” Killian admonished, and she couldn’t help but smile at the bickering siblings and their father’s resulting exasperation.

“It’s okay,” she told them, “it will be nice to have a name, even a temporary one.”

“So . . . “ Killian prompted with arched brows.

“So, Wendy it is!”

A wide smile filled her face despite her circumstances as the four people around her cheered. If she were snowed in, there were worse places she could be. And if she had to join a temporary family, this seemed like a pretty happy one to stumble upon.

*************************************************

The strong scent of cedar filled Killian’s senses as he opened the long forgotten trunk shoved into the far reaches of his walk in closet. He closed his eyes briefly, letting the woodsy aroma wash over him. Not only would the cedar have protected the clothing inside, it would also have eradicated the scent of the former owner. He could do this.

Killian opened his eyes and looked down at the sweaters and leggings that Milah once wore. He lifted one of deep purple from the trunk and pressed it to his face. All he could smell was the cedar. Not the lingering scent of the citrusy shampoo Milah had preferred nor the hazelnut creamer she always used in her coffee. Surprisingly, it didn’t make him sad. Instead, he was relieved. Relieved that her scent no longer clung to the clothing but also relieved that he still remembered details about her. He would never be able to forget her, and the truth of that finally brought him comfort after four long years.

He rose from the floor of the closet with a pile of clothes in his arms and made his way down the hall to Alice’s bedroom. He hated that Wendy had to use his daughter’s room, but Mary Margaret was already set up in the guest room. He also hated that Alice was sharing his bed. The girl was a cuddler who hogged the bed, and Killian was simply exhausted after two nights of sleeping on the very edge of the mattress.

Killian knocked on the door, but there was no answer. However, he could hear the shower running from the jack and jill bath that Alice shared with her brother. He eased the door open, calling out that he had the clothes he had promised. There was no answer, though he did hear a voice drifting from the bathroom. The voice was singing.

Killian let the door swing open and couldn’t help stepping into the room, mesmerized by the voice. Wendy was belting out The Pretenders “Brass in Pocket” with the powerful voice of a rock star. He drew closer to the sound as if he were a sailor and she was a siren calling out to him. As he rounded the bed, however, he fumbled and dropped the clothes in his hands. Wendy had left the door to the bathroom half open, and through it he could see into the bathroom. He spun away quickly, not wanting to be a voyeur, but he wasn’t fast enough to miss the silhouette of Wendy’s figure through the frosted glass of the shower door. He fumbled again as he picked up the clothes and set them on the bed. They now looked like Henry had folded them, but he didn’t care. He rushed from the room before Wendy caught him and thought he was a peeping tom.

He shut the bedroom door quietly behind him and sagged against it, his heart pounding like a teenager. Yes, four long years. Four long years since Milah passed. Four long years since a woman had been living in this house. Killian drew in several deep breaths and ran his hand wearily down his face. He had to get a grip! Wendy needed his help. This was no time to become sexually attracted to her. She had been through something traumatic to leave her wandering injured on a remote snowy road. She had amnesia and was understandably frightened and confused.

Mentally listing all the reasons he couldn’t be attracted to her helped his blood cool considerably. Besides, he had made a vow to Milah when she was sick that he would make fatherhood his highest priority. Making sure Henry and Alice were happy and thriving left little time for anything else. Hadn’t that been made abundantly clear after that disastrous blind date he’d let Mary Margaret set him up on?

Wendy had a life somewhere to get back to, and he had his kids to think about. He wouldn’t let her sultry voice, inviting curves, or golden hair distract him from those two hard, cold facts.

[confessionsfromachristian]

As a millennial myself, I’m not particularly surprised by this.

Organized religion increasingly feels hollow and insincere in a world where religious leaders play politics both within and without the church, literally everything important turns into another power struggle, and no one seems interested in discussing the important questions.

Pretty much every public religious figure treats their religious text of choice as if they, and they alone, definitely have it all figured out. And if their interpretation (which is definitely, 100% correct, mind you) happens to benefit their interests at the expense of other people, then that’s fine, because it’s religion and therefore it’s good. Televangelists are what most people see of organized religion, and frankly most televangelists seem to be interested first and foremost in what you and God can do for them.

Which isn’t what religion is supposed to be, or what it has to be, but it’s often what it looks like in the here and now.

On a personal level, organized religion is designed astonishingly well to break faithful hearts. If I didn’t have someone to pull me back into church (someone whom I care about deeply, and want to support), I probably wouldn’t ever attend church, between the heartache religion has inflicted on me on a personal level and the disgust I get watching it on an organizational level.

(Story under the cut, because it’s rambling and still fueled by a lot of pain. TW: parent death)

I grew up Catholic, and I left the Catholic church in college because, increasingly, Catholic doctrine started having more holes than substance (at least, to me and my reading of the Bible) and none of the priests I reached out to were willing to give me anything more substantial than “the Bible says so,” even when I couldn’t find where the Bible actually said anything about the matter at hand.

Add on the longstanding problems in the Catholic church (where priests’ jobs have been repeatedly placed ahead of innocent children’s physical and psychological wellbeing, and the few authority figures who try to take local action keep getting told to wait for a comprehensive plan), and, well… I realized that I was getting more stress than fulfillment, and I felt like an outsider every time I went to Mass, so I stopped going.

So I turned to Methodism, because I was raised to be a Good Christian Girl™ and not going to church just wasn’t really an option. I ended up really involved in the Methodist Church in the mid-2010’s, and particularly in the children’s program at my own small church. And that was great for a while.

My conversion to Protestantism was always a sticking point between me and my mother, and I will always regret that a difference of religion meant that many of the times I saw her in the last months of her life were filled with bitter, frustrated arguments.

The day I finished the long process of writing and defending my undergraduate thesis, I drove 3 hours to my hometown with my roommate (a friend from my pre-college years), and didn’t go home because I was too proud of my pro-same-sex-marriage thesis (this was pre-Obergefell) and too tired to put up with another argument about my Protestantism, my liberal views, and my different interpretation of the Bible from the priest at my former church. I called her, told her I was done, that I’d done well, and that I’d see her the next evening, but I was going to crash with my roommate at her parents’ house.

My mother died the next afternoon, before I could call her again. I missed my last chance to see her because I feared another fight about religion. I would give anything to take that decision back.

My father was not thrilled at my conversion, but he’s come around since my mom passed away; he supports me finding a place where I feel spiritually filled, I think more or less because he’s lonely and he’s afraid to lose me (but I won’t ever let a difference of religion come between us). He volunteers at the church I went to as a child, and, up until the events that led to me leaving my small church, he always supported our kids’ programs to.

Although my church always had problems that left me frustrated, I got a lot of fulfillment out of teaching the kids in the church. But then, in 2016, I ended up as an Annual Conference delegate, and I think that’s where things started to spiral, happy as I was to go at the time.

AC was great, and I’m a law-brained sorta person, so all that legislation was wonderful. But I also had the opportunity to see the gritty reality of a world where religion is designed to make money, not just to fill spirits. Churches that don’t make money - even if they don’t lose any - can be closed, regardless of the negative effects, if someone in power thinks that a different kind of church can be more profitable. And if people at AC express dismay over the results? They’re probably good Christians, or they wouldn’t be at AC. Call for a prayer so they’ll shut up and you can move on.

But, you know, power corrupts. So I went back to my small church to try and fix everything I could on a local level, because I while I couldn’t fix the United Methodist Church, I could fix MY church. And, as an AC delegate, I had a spot on the Church Council to help with that goal. But, as it turns out, sometimes even people on a local level really just want the church to make more money. My dream (shared with a couple other church members, admittedly, but by no means all) was to use our children’s program to reach unchurched and underserved kids and bring them to Jesus. That, unfortunately, is not a financially profitable dream. Kids cost money, and unchurched kids are usually not rich ones. And their families often don’t come for more than the children’s events - and they only come for the children’s events because it’s free babysitting.

So every step was like clawing my way out of quicksand. Getting volunteers was like pulling teeth. Getting supplies was usually a matter of “do what you can with the church budget, and donate the rest.” Without volunteers, setup became “work until you’re about to pass out, go home, sleep two hours, then come back and finish before the kids get here.” Meanwhile, programs meant to draw in rich retirees from our community (so that they could give donations while they were in the building, of course) had more volunteers than they needed, and no one questioned whether practically every single man in the church was going to stay after on Sunday to help set up.

And the pastor at the time really was great. But they were a peacekeeper; any problems that arose always had two sides, and always ended in whatever decision kept the status quo because the status quo was safe, and easy.

But then the next AC came, and my pastor retired. The pastor that replaced them had wanted to retire, but had been encouraged by the district superintendent to take on our church instead, as a “part-time full-time assignment.” And I hoped and prayed that they’d bring with them change, but I should’ve been more careful with what I wished for.

They cannot tell the truth to save their life. They would approach me about an issue that was “very important” to them. We’d talk, and come up with a solution. At Church Council, without fail, the pastor would come in and insist that, in fact, we had decided on some entirely different plan. The pastor rarely showed up at children’s ministry events, so getting volunteers got even harder (why care about VBS if the pastor doesn’t?). Slowly, but surely, the church eroded every program I had helped put in place, watering it down or trying to monetize it. So, the Book of Discipline actually mandates a YA representative have a spot on the Church Council. For a while, I and one other millennial (also an AC delegate) fulfilled that role. But the pastor felt it was more important to send the church treasurer, so he could learn to make more money for the church. And that was fine; I and the other millennial approached the pastor at the end of the year about having a YA rep on the council either way (I’d always gone as an at-large delegate; our church was small enough that we only needed 1 lay delegate), and he more or less told us that the Book of Discipline didn’t apply when it was inconvenient for the church.

That’s where I realized that the bridge I was standing on would, inevitably, crumble. But I told myself it was worth trying to fix what was wrong. So I tried. And for a short time, I thought my biggest problem was going to be ensuring that the 2019 General Conference decision didn’t change the way my church embraced its LGBT members.

This new year had brought someone I’d always viewed as a friend into a position of authority in the church. I was excited for her, and I really hoped and prayed that she could do good for the church, and that we could work together to build an inclusive church with a healthy outreach to the underserved and unchurched, things I had always thought she agreed with me about (because she’d told me to my face that she did).

But no sooner did she take the reins than she implemented the volunteer dress code. Which was a far worse thing than it sounds.

We live in Texas. The dress code? No tank tops, no shorts. Ever. Apparently, some anonymous complainer had, at some point, seen an underwear slip or a bra strap. And rather than talk to the volunteers, they wrote a policy. Side note, apparently skirts of any length were fine for women.

Goodbye VBS. I can’t in good conscience ask anyone to monitor children outside, in June, in Texas, in full-length jeans and a t-shirt.

Also, no going barefoot in the sanctuary, ever, for any reason. I was one of two people who regularly shed my shoes during kids’ events where we used the sanctuary. But rather than talk to me about it, it was better to make a policy about it that literally everyone I spoke to knew was a rebuke.

Then, in one of the brand-new children’s oversight committee meetings, they decided to dismantle the children’s program bit by bit. Children’s church? Cancelled. Apparently, we were running a renegade program without pastoral approval anyway.

VBS? “If we can’t charge for it, let’s just cancel it. Add on a few lies about how poorly it was run (by me, in part) to make it seem like a logistical problem.” The children’s director objects to a sexist-worded dress code and refuses to impose it on those under her? “Fire her, no need to look at whether there’s a problem. Make the volunteers (including me) sign the policy before you’ll let them teach the kids on Sunday. Remind them explicitly that this is a prerequisite to working with the kids, so that they don’t feel they have any choice if they want to say goodbye, because they already know that it’s over and they don’t want to blindside the kids.”

I posted about it on Facebook in my frustration and pain at watching them tear apart everything I’ve tried to do for kids that I love like they were my family. I received a termination letter in my e-mail the next day. They proceeded to send a newsletter to the entire church (except me and my family) informing the church that I had been removed as a volunteer for lying on Facebook. No goodbye for the kids. No warning. They couldn’t handle public dissent.

I hadn’t told a single lie. I dared the person who drafted the newsletter to tell me where I lied. No answer.

Of course I left. And it still hurts to walk into a church building. It still hurts to see the kids on my FB feed. I’m still friends with a few of the moms, because I still love their kids. And it will keep hurting me, because I trusted my church. And even though I still go to church now and then, I know damn well not to trust anyone inside.

[afictionaladventure16]

The Pen Pal Project (Chris Evans x Latina!OC)

Masterlist

Previously on The Pen Pal Project... 

Warnings: Mentions of a dysfunctional family, foul language

Word Count: 1,656

Chapter 7

Letter #7

*Gif not mine 

November 11th, 2017

“Wait, so when do you go back to filming?” Scott had asked for about the fifth time today.

Chris rolled his eyes slightly, “in the middle of January,” Chris mumbled.

“And you’ll be gone for about four months, what are you going to do about the girl you’ve been writing to?”

Chris sighed, “her name is Julie,” He stated, “and you guys keep making it seem like if something is going to happen.”

“Because we haven’t seen you this happy in a while,” Scott stated.

“I haven’t even met her, Scott, I don’t want to get my hopes up. Hell, she doesn’t know who I really am. Once she finds out she’s going to stop writing… So, I’m gonna pretend to be this normal guy Chris and I’m gonna help her and she’ll most likely do the same with me. Communication in this thing is the key, it’s what the project is about.”

Scott just smiled at how easily his brother was defending himself, “alright, alright,” Scott said as he put his hands up. He turned to look at their nieces and nephews playing in the yard. “But what if she doesn’t react that way?”

Chris sighed, knowing very well his little brother wasn’t going to let this go, not only him but his older sisters as well, “then you can say I told you so.”

Scott stayed silent for a few seconds, “I spoke to Jenny not too long ago,” he said softly.

Chris closed his eyes as if to hold his composure, “And?” It was true, he still was in pain of letting Jenny go, but they just weren’t a match. They were both so totally different people and he always wondered why they even got together in the first place.

Scott sighed, knowing he shouldn’t have brought Jenny up, “never mind. Shouldn’t have brought her up, I just wanted to change the subject.”

“you’re horrible at that,” Chris said as he let out a small chuckle.

“So I’ve been told,” Scott smiled.

“It’s getting late,” Chris said as he got up, he ran over to his nieces and nephews promising he’d be back tomorrow for a movie night. Walking back over to Scott, who was stuck babysitting for the night, “good luck,” Chris said with a smirk as he walked out the back gate.

Chris made his way on over to the post office, he’d been checking it since the day after he sent a letter, knowing very well that the letter wasn’t going to arrive as fast, he had some hope that it will.

Opening the door for an older lady who was leaving the post office, Chris made his way in. He opened the small p.o. box to only reveal a key and his letter. Chris grabbed the key and looked at the number that had been attached to it, Chris looked around for the specific box the key had been for, finally finding it at the very end of the post office. He opened the box to reveal an orange envelope that read Fragile on it.

Chris was even more excited about this as he noticed Julie’s name on the orange envelope, but of course, it would be her. Chris made his way out of the post office.

Once he was home, Chris made sure he spent some time with Dodger before even reading the letter, giving the lovable dog some food and then some much-needed cuddles. Chris then decided to read the letter.

 Dear Chris,

Hmm, looking back at the letters, I recall that we both said it. As for your nickname…. I sure have to give this a thought, certainly, this is something I am going to have to put into the next letters perhaps, but only three chances? Come on, Chris, that isn’t fair. After all, I only know your first name. Of course, how can I forget that you are an actor? My bad.

You know, I’ve never thought of just sitting down with Mr. William and striking up a conversation, I’ll have to do that one of these days. You’ve opened my eyes, Chris.

As for the photos… attached I’ve included a photo I took for my photography class back in college, I am proud of it till this day.

Chris took out the photo from the envelope, it was a beautiful landscape photo in black and white.

It’s from the hills here in California, near the beach, I was driving to get my mind off things and came across this abandoned silo, the photo was just screaming to be taken. So, I pulled over and I may have trespassed, but I got this amazing photo in the process... I hope you like it. It’s my only hard copy.

Chris looked at the photo in awe, wondering if Julie knew how much talent she had, Chris admitted to himself that he could never make such a portrait. The way you just captured the image, blew Chris away, he didn’t know how but he felt so many emotions. Just knowing that you had given him your only hard copy of the photo, meant so much to Chris. He cherished that photo.

I sure do hope you are funnier in person; it’d be a real let down if you aren’t. I can see myself now, making jokes and you just looking utterly confused because you lied of your sense of humor. Tragic.

Living pretty well, you say? Is that a metaphor or something? Does “living pretty well” mean, “help me, I’m poor.” I swear English class has me traumatized. Constantly trying to find meaning in words that don’t have any meaning.

Yes, I am Latina. I do speak Spanish, pretty fluently actually. Willing to learn? The first word you will be learning is Hola. Ho-la. Probably should’ve started with the Spanish alphabet… this would be easier if taught in person… maybe one day? That way I can see you fail in person, oh the scenarios, they are hilarious! Boston must be nice, Chris. I’ve always wanted to visit. Washington D.C. too and New York. I just love to travel. I visited Europe a couple years back, made me realize that I just don’t like staying in one place.

So sorry, Chris. Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings there. But I was just trying to defend myself from being hurt. :D

That’s sweet! It’s always nice to see siblings that are close! Reminds me of how me and my older brother John used to argue all the time as children, one day my dad told us that we would end up being best friends. Oh, how we got so pissed at that! But he was right.

What was my favorite subject in high school? Is that really ALL you got, Chris!? COME ON! It was Art. BUT STILL! WEAAAKKKK!!

Now, here’s my awesome, very cool, waybetterthanyours, question: If you could choose one animal (Real or unreal) to be for the day, what would you choose and why?

 Later Vader.

 P.S. No one wants to see my wrath when I am upset.

P.P.S.

No, it’s fine, Chris. I’ve been dealing with my anxiety long enough to know how to calm down these small panic attacks. Yet, there is still sometimes I don’t know how to control it.

I’ve only spoken to this about my therapist, of course, and a couple of my best friends. Irene (who’s also my roommate), Andrea, and Destiny. They’ve been my friends for years, the only people I trust with personal things like this.

I can’t wrap my head around it either, Chris. I really can’t. I’ve tried over and over but I can’t understand it. I wouldn’t do such a thing to my own children. Ugh, they’re not even existent yet and I already know that I want to be the best mother I ever can be for them! When I said guilt for her mistakes I meant, alright when I was a baby there were these rumors that I wasn’t my fathers’ kid.

My father shut down the rumors by lying about getting a DNA test, he didn’t believe the rumors because he thought that my mother wouldn’t do such a thing to him. Fast forward to twenty-one years later, my dad, my brother John and I decided to do this Ancestry test and well when the results came back, my dad and I didn’t have any matches to each other, meaning that we weren’t related. I spoke to my father about it and he suggested a paternity test just to be sure. Those results came back negative. I haven’t spoken to my mother since, especially since when we confronted her, she denied everything. When we provided proof, she said that the DNA test was lying.

That should answer your question about my dad’s son from his first marriage. But my dad, he gave us the best childhood ever. He didn’t have one as a kid, so my dad made sure we got to do all the things he couldn’t do as a child. I loved my childhood. I remember there were times he would be tired from work, but he would still play “nurse” with me, he played a stubborn patient though.

As for me and my stepmother, we get along better now. I guess she just didn’t like sharing my dad. I don’t know. I don’t feel bothered by it anymore.

Ask all the questions you want, Chris and thank you. It means a lot to hear that, especially from someone who doesn’t know me that much, let alone someone I haven’t even met.

 Chris stared at the papers on his hand, he couldn’t believe what Julie just told him. How could a mother deny something like that when there is just proof right in front of her? Chris just wanted to hug Julie and let her know that everything was alright. Yet he couldn’t do that. Not yet, anyway.

So, this one is short and it sucked. Anyway, let me know what you guys think! Love getting all this feedback from you guys! 

Also, REQUESTS for imagines and one shots are open! I’ve been wanting to do a Sebastian Stan imagine just haven’t had any ideas so if you have any and would like me to write it, let me know! Don’t be shy! 

Taglist is open! 

Taglist: @kelbabyblue @cocomel0613 @thejemersoninferno

[jvnisms-blog]

♡♡          hey babes !! it’s ya gal charmi at it again, the mun of azami, with yet another chaotic child on my hands. meet jung woojin and find out more about him below the cut & hit me up for plots or like this and i will slide into your messages !! before you read on please be aware of these triggers: tw: eating disorder mention, tw: depression mention, tw: anxiety mention, tw: self harm mention, tw: parental death mention, tw: suicide mention, tw: domestic abuse mention. all of these are brief and very vague however i want y’all to be safe !! without further ado: 

BACKSTORY: 

was in and out of the adoption system most of his life and went to many toxic homes and families that were neglectful or abusive because he wasn't the perfect child they had dreamed of. at first thought he was never going to be fostered at all because he wasn't the ideal age or considered young enough really for many family setups to want him. 

was separated from his brother in the adoption system and has never fully got over it since they grew up closer than ever due to their circumstances and were more like twins. strongly believing for a long time they were the only ones who could look out for each other and make the miserable upbringing worth fighting through. he still believes he's the only one who can really protect his brother and tears himself apart thinking of how he might have suffered without him, if it was the same way he did. 

the father died of alcohol issues and early set heart failure. the mother decided in her grief and mourning she could not cope with the boys and got rid of them before taking her own life. both parents were fairly young when they had the boys, too young really. 

the boy grew up believing he was a monster and that he was far too violent for loving or to be loved. that he only brought destruction and damage everywhere he went. simply put he was too rough around the edges. 

was taught to believe that if he simply kept quiet and out of the way maybe his foster parents would love him more and he could make his life there more bearable.

his school and teachers did nearly find out but he always lied and covered it up well, in fact lying became increasingly easy because he didn't believe there was anything better waiting for him anyway, he did not want to be saved and a part of him still wanted to pray for the best in his foster parents, a sudden change. a part of him thought he was strong enough to deal with their violence bestowed upon him now. 

of course though this made him a very angry kid with a lot of secrets and a lot of pain he had to keep buried, a lot of the time he became too agressive with his friends and people who attempted to help him because it was all he knew, agressive spat out hurtful words and rash actions that are just a touch too brutal. a shove, words spat in faces. he's trying to be better though, he really is. he doesn't want to hurt or break things anymore. that's all. 

he's beaten up a lot, he tends to brush it off with a 'it happens' or 'it wasn't a big deal' when his ribs end up broken and he's taping them up himself etc.

some nervous dispositions that have stuck are things such as shaking a lot, folding arms in on himself and making himself appear smaller, biting his nails down over excessively.

abandoned foster child who fell prey to the system and came out worse for it because of it all is basically his whole niche. 

a lot of things become an argument even when he doesn't intend it, apologies can come out more like taunting. he can be sharp tongued and ugly with his words. 

in turn he's bad at accepting apologies even when he knows deep down things are his own fault. he struggles to find words that don't burn and hurt and take. he just doesn't know how to do comfort, he thinks he has the idea sometimes but he is scared to reach out and give the wrong touch, end up hurting more instead. 

he has an issue with touching in general. he doesn't let himself do it much, doesn't bestow it on others. he knows what he can be capable of how he can't control his own strength and he is terrified of himself.* biggest promise to himself is that he never hurts anyone even in the smallest way even when its justified in an emotional breakdown or when he is trying to keep himself from being abandoned once again. he won't let himself. 

' you know what they say about monsters. you know what happens to the people who love them. are you going to do that?' even if no one else is afraid of him. he is afraid of himself.

' your hands don't know how to be gentle, think about the last beautiful thing that shattered in your palms. the fresh rosebuds crumbling between your fingers like a bruise. you wolf boy, you war machine. you wouldn't know how to hold something magic and not destroy it...' 

is littered in bruises and scars and burn marks. 

CURRENT LIFE: 

since moving to daegu he has slowly made progress, healed, gotten better. he has worked away at himself until he made himself more of a tragic masterpiece than a messy splash of unfinished painting and blurry mottled colours. 

he lives with four friends, close friends who have been with him through everything and taught him how to healthily feel not only happiness and love but also let go of and exhale all of that pain and anger and violence he could not control. that was not his own but haunted him. aching to be placed somewhere else than inside his body which was too small to feel such hurt and heartbreak.

he got therapy after many tries with many therapists who botched up he eventually found one who worked and helped him look for new hobbies which would channel and turn his pessimistic and negative energy and burdens into something more beautiful or better managed. he slowly learned to trust himself at least a little bit more once again. she also helped him on a journey of distance without isolation so he could understand he would not do the harm he always imagined he was the root of. 

when he leaves his family, it is in the middle of the night with packed bags and not much else to his name. he thinks it'll be easier on everyone that way, no letters or texts or calls. in fact he breaks his phone and switches it out for a cheap new one when he's ready to be contacted once again. there are no goodbyes.

he spends four years just crashing on his friend's floor of their apartment who are a couple who practically raise him and take him under their wing and simply accept him in all his flawed and closed off excellence, simply listening and accepting and providing a safe haven without expectations of any kind. 

he works on painting, writing, gardening anything that will teach him how to love and nurture better than he did before. to see beauty and nourish it instead of destroy it or twist it. he learns piano finding romance in the music. 

he got over his eating disorder and began cooking, become a rather skilled chef with his friends help and had more regular meals especially under his guidance when he couldn't cook then the other would do it for him. feeding him steadily every day to build his appetite back up again. 

he took more care to exercise and keep his body and health much more good, nothing amazing but finally the average. he also got a couple jobs all that would help him with communication and learning new talents or discovering his own further.

slowly he stopped flinching every time someone tried to touch or did touch him. small touches from his friends ease him along, an arm slung around his shoulders, a hand in his own, a gentle hug. he finds a makeshift home and love and happiness where everyone isn't trying overly hard to find a way to nurse it into him.

eventually recently he has came to a point where he can cancel his therapy sessions comfortably and flush those pills to help with that anxiety and unbearable sadness. somehow he learns how to breathe again all by himself without someone else coaching him through it all.

EXTRA: 

woojin is gay so romance plots are only applicable to other male muses however in the past before he knew of his sexuality he could’ve had an ex girlfriend or two!

potential romance plot inspiration heavily inspired by the poem yes & no by natalie wee. there’s a lot of flexibility on this one in terms of timeframing so just hit me up to discuss it more after reading the poem if you’re interested !!

the usual plots are of course up for grabs: childhood best friend, current best friend, ex’s, first love, friends he met through therapy, friends he met in the foster system, confidant, coffee fix partner, fake dating, study partner ( he’s studying music ofc and he specializes in production ), someone he writes lyrics for, someone he writes lyrics with or produces with, someone who makes him realize how amazing his lyrics actually are and how much potential lies within that talent as a career goal, his muse, i imagine he works a part time job as a waiter so do with that what u will maybe they can be work buddies?, also does babysitting every now and then for extra cash, etc. 

[delicatefury]

October 15th - Random thoughts from another temporary LCS

Same town different coffee shop. I like the food here more, but the coffee at the other place is definitely better (even if they make their own syrups here). So this is the breakfast place™, and that’s the writing place™. Atmosphere-wise, they’re different but I like both.

—————-

This week I turn 30. My BFF (the one I actually live near. The other’s still in Hawaii) wants to go out to celebrate. I wonder if I can get her to go to the vintage wine bar... We’re easing back into an... active? Friendship. Not that we’re not still super close. But when you only see each other a few times a year, conversations tend to default to “what’s happened since I saw you last?” Events, y’know? So now we’re kinda easing back into the stupid wonderful friendship of seeing each other at least twice a month if not more. So now we actually have room to talk about stupid important shit like dreams ambitions current events griping about life family pets lack of love life philosophy fandom do you still want to read my novel you can crash on my couch if you need a night or two away look at my stupid cat you have to tell me when you get a puppy i want to spoil it so much.

———————-

This week TDPL turns 2. I’m at 5 chapters. Still. I know. I think I’ve maybe updated once this entire year. My goal had been a chapter a month. Then 4 chapters a year. Then an average of 3. I’m not even gonna try to give a timeline at this point. I think maybe when my days are busier, I might have an easier time writing.

Currently, I haven’t gotten much writing done due to “guilt from not having a job”. Which is easing now that the job search is starting to bear fruit. Makes me feel creative. Now if only i had a place to work at home...

——————

My interview is Friday. I need to go buy a new suit (I lost weight in the five years since I bought my first interview suit and it is obviously bad-fitting now. Pencil skirts aren’t meant to sit on the hips), new heels (mine are at least 8 years old), and practice my interview questions. My aunt has been amazing for that so far. She hires people for her company all the time, so she knows what’s up.

I’m struggling on the “five years” question. Y’know, “where do you see yourself in 5 years?” I... am not an ambitious person. And I feel like it’s a question to make sure you’re “driven”. I’m not driven in that I’m not motivated by my own status and success. I’m motivated on getting the... well, on getting the issue solved. I want to rise exactly as high as I need to be to most effectively get problems fixed and the work done. I’m not gunning for Partner (though that would be nice) or VP or Lead on a case. I want to be able to put my skills to use. And if doing so means I take those positions, than that’s where I want to be. How do I explain that in a way that impresses hiring partners?

Personal ambitions? I want a quiet, simple, fulfilled life. I want to be useful. But I also kinda sorta want to own a yarn store? Or coffee shop? Or book store? A place that I can make cozy and indulge in my great loves and help other people discover those simple wonderful things?

I want to finish writing and publish a book.

But I’m good at being a lawyer. Crazy good. Lawfully good. And I like the challenge too. So it’s not like I don’t want to be a lawyer in 5 years. It’s just... I have a kinda see where life takes me approach sometimes.

_____________

NaNoWriMo starts in a little over 2 weeks. No clue what I want to write about. No clue if I’ll have no time to participate or too much time.

I think... I think if I can brainstorm enough and research enough, I might cheat a little and do a rewrite of my one finished novel. Because the first draft is terrible and focuses almost entirely on a romance that is central but a subplot at best. Which means I got lost somewhere and need to buckle down and rediscover the actual story I want to tell and whether that needs to be one book or two or three.

Ugh. I love my BFF who lives here, but the BFF in Hawaii is the one who’s always been involved with my writing endeavors. And it’s just not the same discussing said things over phone and/or skype as it is talking it out in person. Oh well. I’ll figure something out.

________

The attempts to be social have not born fruit. Mainly because there’s nothing going on right now in the alumni association or the the bar association, though the local NaNoWriMo chapter is ramping up. Problem? It’s in the city, and right now the city is a 45 minute drive for me. If I get a job soon, it won’t be so bad because 1) my job will be in the city and I don’t mind a 45 minute commute for work, and 2) I’ll just do things after work. But right now it’s a pain to drive that far on my own for just a 1-2 hour thing.

But I did get drinks with the BFF this weekend. Next weekend, though, I’m babysitting my nieces and nephew so literally everyone else in my family can go to an event. Because I got lost in the shuffle of coordinating said event and my older sister assumed that one of us younger siblings would be available and didn’t bother finding a babysitter.

Love her, but really? Anyway, since I wasn’t even aware that there were plans for this weekend to begin with (mom swore she told me, but then younger sis reminded her that was our brother they talked to), I decided to just take one for the team. Eh, who wants to risk awkward conversations with people from high school anyway? I think I’ll wait until I’m employed again and not just tagging along with my parents at 30.

—————

Researching local law is fun. Since I’m doing this for my own potential side-business, I at least don’t have to worry about ethical issues of practicing law without a license (a common saying I’ve run into while researching where the line is: You can always file your own paperwork). I have my license for the state next door. I won’t be licensed for this state (where the farm’s located) until sometime next year.

But the farm’s in an unincorporated part of the county (duh. Not many farms within city limits), so I have to go all the way to actual county zoning code to find the answers I need. There’s no convenient website for these questions like there are for municipalities. While anything I do would have to wait until I at least sit for this state’s bar next July (my 3rd license, but whatever. I’m still a baby lawyer so I can’t just skip the stupid test yet) to be distributed, I’m thinking about putting together a little packet to help other farmers and “unincorporated” (read: country) folks in the county out when it comes to expanding their businesses or pursuing a new line of revenue.

Because the county zoning code is 214 pages and written in legalese. That’s not even touching on other state and county business law questions that crop up. Most people out here assume you can do whatever you can on your own land, especially if it’s zoned for agriculture, and especially since most locals aren’t gonna report you for doing what you want on your own property (because they also assume you can do what you want so long as it’s not hurting anyone/running afoul of the EPA). Probably because their parents and grandparents were able to just start businesses with little interference...

But Dad’s got quite a few stories of people gettting blindsided and unknowingly racking up pretty big fines because, as I said above, there aren’t exactly any easy to understand or easy to access resources for the unincorporated areas of the county.

——————

Dragalia lost is a better game than it has a right to be.

______________

It’s about 11, and I’m trying to avoid “Yapping Dog Syndrome” (telling someone your plans appears to be negatively correlated to the likelihood of executing said plans), but I think I might still list them here. (Convincing my family that it will help me if I don’t actually tell them what I intend to do for the day is gonna take some work....).

So, on the agenda:

Depending on if my Mom texts me before I leave, I’m gonna go pick up some legal pads on my way home. You don’t realize how much you miss something until you don’t have it anymore, and legal pads are a boon for researching. I love my moleksines but they’re definitely better suited for brainstorming/writing then idea development/research. Frankly? Between the ipad, print-outs, and books, they get in the way.

I’m gonna spend about an hour or two on the municipal code/etsy policies.

I need to update my cover letter and send it to at least 2 places. Including that charity.

I’m gonna work on my nephew’s blanket. He’s 2. There are literally no excuses. Also, I can’t move onto new projects until I finish it. Including the new baby’s blanket, socks, my own winter gear, and a ton of started but left unfinished stuff for the rest of the family.

Cleaning up my room. It’s... untidy. I mean, most of that’s not my fault. The room was general storage for Mom’s massive project of cleaning out the attics (yes. Plural. We use the undereaves of the house for storage. I’m 98% certain there’s nothing in the actual above-the-second-story attic. Also, the attics contain things going back to Dad’s childhood). So there’s boxes and boxes of stuff. Mom and Dad’s winter clothes, wrapping paper, seasonal decorations, enough musical instruments for a blue-grass/jazz fusion band (sax, trombone, trumpet, banjo, electric guitar, electric bass, drums, keyboard, acoustic guitar x2...), and toys from our childhood that Mom and my big sis want easy access to for the nieces and nephew. Who do indeed love said old toys (though the nephew’s favorites are actually Dad’s old die-cast tractors. Dad has mixed feelings about letting a 2 year old play with what are technically antiques.)

She’s gone through a lot of it. Like, I’ve got room for my bed, dresser, a mini living room for our gaming consoles (I told you it’s a big room. It takes up about half of the upstairs. I shared it with both sisters growing up. We each had our own mini-room in a corner and a shared area by the walk-in closet) and space for the cats’ stuff, but half the room is still packed with junk and the occasional box crosses over into my living space.

Anyway, Mom should have an answer for me for the legal pads soon, so I’ll be heading out.

I might have something for TDPL’s 2 year anniversary on Thursday, but don’t hold me to it.

[13pinkcupcakes31-blog]

Teenage kids and Mom suffering from #longhaulcovid #longcovid #covidclub #momofcovidkids #covidruinedourlives

So yeasterday February 1st, 2022 would have been the first day back to school in almost a month for my 3 oldest kids. 15, 13, and 9. Back in early January my youngest daughter (4 years old) presented signs of stomache bug. Fever, vomiting, and malaise. I am no stranger to stomache bug it has run rampant at least twice a year since my oldes started kindergarten. So I just thought no biggie 24 hours each kid then we will be done. Well day 2 my 15 year old is now vomiting, fever 104.9, exhaustion, body pain, migraine. This lasted for the better part of 10 days. I caught it 3 days after the 15 year old so this saturated Tuesday I was told to have all kids tested for Covid that Friday … my oldest was the 1st positive case my other 3 negative. Saturday I start feeling bad… really bad. I couldn’t breathe right, deep breathes were agony. It felt like my ribs were broken, then my back and the rest of my body followed suit shortly after. Sunday I get tested and it’s positive. I have all the kids tested again on that Wednesday now my son is positive. His symptoms are nowhere near as bad as me and my daughters he just sleeps it off. So the 3 VACCINATED people have caught it. Each vaccinated person shares a bedroom with an unvaccinated person. They never caught it, my younger daughters and my husband. Then days later my brother and sister in law also catch it they are vaccinated. Their 3 young children don’t catch it. An infant I babysit every day and naps in my bed with me and my toddler never catches it. His family that are also unvaccinated doesn’t catch it. my daughters best friend who takes the bus home to our house daily who is vaccinated she catches it and her Mom also vaccinated catches it. They share a home with 4 unvaccinated people they don’t catch it either! So now I’m suspicious! it doesn’t make sense! only the vaccinated caught it! Not a single unvaccinated that spent just as much if not more time and air with us did not! Is this why they push the vaccine so hard? So everyone catches it? So fast forward to February 1st, I am still having symptoms or side effects however you want to describe it. My vision was 20/20 now everything is blurry. I can’t focus or rememher anything. I have trouble hearing or maybe comprehending when people talk to me. I still can’t breathe normally. I get winded and exhausted easily. I have weird facial twitches only on my right side. Stomache pain. In the beginning of covid I had heightened sense of smell and taste and then at the 2 week mark I lost all taste and smell. It still hasn’t returned. One plus I can cut onions and not tear up at all… downside I depended on my smell to determine when something was cooked so I am constantly burning stuff. So enough about me. My daughter is woken up normal time 6:15. Usually she gives me the I hate you death glare but this morning she didn’t. She just looks vaguely meh. So Im thinking she’s going to fall back to sleep so I check in her again at 6:25 she’s still sitting on her bed and again looks like she’s not sure what to do so I say come in get dressed close the door. im used to hearing things fall or get dropped in my house I have 4 kids and I’m pretty damn good at identifying usually what gets dropped. Well 6:28 there a huge crash. I call out who was that? And my son says not me but nothing from the girls room. So I call out Laila was that you .. nothing. So I rush to her room and I open the door and shes down. She’s half dressed laying half under her sisters bed. I roll her to me and see she’s bleeding profusely from her nose. As I’m calling her she goes into a full blown grand mail seizure. yes I know what these look like I works in a hospital and a group home with many epileptics. I scream for my husband to call 911z. She seizes for a full minute then she’s just out cold. It takes the ambulance about 8 minutes to arrive she wakes up terrified at the 5 minute mark but she doesn’t know where she is or why her dads in her room. She wants to get up but I tell her no you may have hurt your neck

the way you fell. Now she’s agitated because she doesnt remember anything. 12 hours in the ER and an MRI. We are no closer to answers. She has never been sick before. so now my mind is thinking cancer or aneurysm. MRI was completely clean. Waiting for the EEG appointment. I don‘t to come off paranoid, but even the doctors agreed with me. This was from Covid. Why? Who knows. There is so much we don’t know. How does a completely healthy teenager catch Covid. Struggles to recover and ends up having back to back seizures 18 days after testing positive for Covid. by the way we caught Covid from school. They have a very relaxed system here. They have mask breaks they eat side by side with friends. So definitively that’s where she got it. We dont go out, no gatherings, restaurants, family gatherings. We grocery shop at one place we always wear masks. Please tell me how covid has affected you or your kids. Let’s try to piece together all the different problems it’s caused in your health or families health.

[ohnominamino]

Expectations

This fic was created in response to the Rare Fanfiction Challenge hosted by @yyhfanfiction, for the category "Canon female-centric expansion." I might've failed, since this story is still all about Kurama, but I tried.

Summary: Spending the day with her first grandchild leads Shiori to reflect on her son's childhood. He never did act the way she'd anticipated-- until now.

Kurama was not the type to be frazzled. He’d had thousands of years to perfect his patience and was certain little in the world could upset or surprise him. When he’d announced he and his significant other were expecting their first child, his human family and work colleagues had been thrilled. Much of their congratulations had come with words of advice, playful warnings and comments like, “Oh, I can’t wait to see what Shuuichi looks like on 3 hours of sleep.” Kurama had taken it all in good humor, dismissing the words that doubted his ability to keep his head.

Truthfully, he had been somewhat worried --  not so much about sleep, considering his acting skills were above par and he could survive 3 solid days without rest -- but being a parent was a new and frightening concept.

His wife’s rounded stomach, sonograms, and other pieces of evidence aside, Kurama hadn’t accepted the reality of being a father until the wrapped bundle of Kouichi Minamino was placed in his arms; the "kou" from light, paired with the "ichi" from Shuuichi. The baby had been small, bald, eyes screwed up tight in his wrinkly face. A perfectly healthy boy, fragile and precious in the way human infants were. His feelings of gratitude and joy were interrupted by the arrival of his best friend.

“He’s not cute at all. What gives?”

Yusuke had not been allowed to hold Kouichi that day, 11 months ago.

Babies grow fast. Kurama hadn’t been prepared for that. Unable to roll over one day, crawling on four legs then wobbling around on two the next. Kouichi’s development made Kurama painfully aware of all the overthinking he’d done as Shiori’s child and he feared she would notice the differences too. Kouichi was normal.

Shiori loved to spend time with her grandson, but Kurama often kept their visits brief. Each time he cut their bonding short or took Kouichi home early with excuses, the guilt ate away at him. Shiori offered mutiple times to babysit him, insisting they take him out of that expensive daycare and let him stay at grandma’s, but Kurama refused. He knew he was being selfish.

It was with great reluctance that he called his mother one morning in March. The daycare was closed. His wife was away attending a professional development workshop and he had a huge deal to close at work, so bringing Kouichi along wasn’t an option. He had no choice. He apologized into the receiver, “Mother, I’m sorry to ask last minute, but could you watch Kouichi today?”

When Shiori opened the front door, she knew Shuuichi was having a difficult morning. His hair was out of place, diaper bag slung across one shoulder, half open, Kouichi strapped to his front with his right sock missing. The baby switched from playing with his free toes to pulling at his father’s necktie. Shiori leaned forward to kiss Shuuichi's cheek and say, "Good morning," simultaneously plucking the tie out of the baby’s fingers as he went to put it in his mouth. She distracted him with the next kiss, square on the top of his soft red hair.

"Good morning, mother." Shuuichi stepped into the genkan gratefully, unloading his belongings and his child. "Thank you for having Kouichi over today. I can't believe they closed his daycare."

"The flu is serious for little ones. I'd rather they take the precaution." She took her grandchild with a smile. He grabbed onto her braid. "Besides, it's my pleasure to watch him. I'd watch him every day if you let me."

"I couldn't ask that of you." He looked pained at the thought. She never could figure out why.

Shuuichi checked for drool on his blouse, smoothed down his clothes and hair, then let out a long groan.

“What?”

“I forgot my laptop.”

“Do you need it?”

“Yes, I forgot to upload my presentation to the shared drive last night.” He heaved a sigh. “I need to run. I’ll be back around 6.”

“Good luck, dear.”

Shuuichi was out the door without a proper goodbye to either her or his son, which she would’ve scolded him for under any other circumstances. Single parenting did not become him. Shiori propped Kouichi higher onto her hip and looked down to meet his large green eyes. He smiled up at her. “You are too cute.” She kissed him again on the forehead. “What shall we do today?” His gigged answer was music to her ears.

Kouichi was so easy to make happy, the opposite of his father when he was little.

Shiori remembered being a young mother, the uncertainty of everything she did, the never-ending lectures on childraising she’d received from well-meaning aunts and neighbors. Do this, do that, don’t do what so-and-so did, you want your son to turn out right, right?

She and Kenjiro had done exactly as everyone told them, but Shuuichi did not develop like they said he would. As a baby he rarely cried, but he also rarely smiled, and while he leap over some developmental milestones, he fell terribly behind on others. Shiori and Kenjiro could see in his eyes how clever he was, knew he had a high level of comprehension, but at two and a half years old, he did not speak many words.

The pediatrician told them not to worry. Gifted children often saved their words until they knew exactly what they wanted to say. He might suddenly start speaking in full sentences one day soon.

Soon, the doctor had said, and as if he understood those words to be permission, Shuuichi woke her up the next morning with, “Mama, I’m hungry. Can we make pancakes?”

She’d pulled him into a tight hug, kissed his face, and marched them right into the kitchen.

Shiori did not know how long it would take Kouichi to find his words, but he seemed fine sharing the ones he knew before they were correct. He babbled nonsensically at her as she sorted through his diaper bag to see what Shuuichi had remembered to pack. He was already calling her, “Baabaa!”

Shiori found a second pair of socks and put them on the baby. He waddled through the living room, occasionally balancing himself on furniture. She watched him affectionately. It took him about two minutes to start knocking things off the coffee table. She followed him, picking up the mess, and scooped him up just before he started pulling books off the bookshelf. The photo albums were at his eye level. She pulled one out at random, and sat with Kouichi on the couch. “These are pictures from when your dad was small.” She explained.

She couldn’t tell if Kouichi understood, but it was easy for him to turn the thick pages, and he pointed enthusiastically at each person. “Da?”

“That’s Grandpa Kenjiro.”

“Da?”

“That’s your daddy.”

“Da?”

“That’s me, Baabaa.” She pointed to herself.

The last photo in the album was of Shuuichi’s first undoukai. He was dressed in his sports uniform, looking into the camera’s lens with a bored expression. He’d changed so much since then! It was strange to think that Shuuichi had once been that way, introverted and too-serious for his age.

Shiori closed the album and put it back with the others. It had been ages since she’d gone through them. Looking at the faces of loved ones she’d lost, and seeing her son look like he’d rather be anywhere else, had broken her heart many times over when she was grieving Kenjiro’s death. Now, it felt less raw. She could actually smile at the memories.

She retrieved a proper baby book from the diaper bag and gave that to Kouichi, her mind wandering to the past and the hurdle that was Shuuichi entering school. He’d been a good boy, had listened wonderfully to his teachers’ directions and done the work they’d asked of him, but he’d refused to interact with other children. His kindergarten teachers said he was shy, his first grade teacher said he was quiet, and his second grade teacher said he was brilliant, but emotionally stunted. Kenjiro hated hearing anything negative about his son. It wasn���t Shuuichi’s fault the other kids in his class weren’t on his level, he’d ranted.

Her mother-in-law, who lived in another prefecture and rarely came to visit, had said Shuuichi’s lack of social skills were concerning. His cousins had lots of friends, how could he not make a single one? She blamed Shiori for not pushing him and scolded Kenjiro for his lack of discipline. She suggested he might do better in a mixed age extracurricular, so they put him into martial arts classes, and as expected, he performed perfectly, but did not make friends.

Shiori did not have her own mother to seek advice from; she’d died of breast cancer when Shiori was 14, and her father, while he’d done his best raising her, was a quiet man who kept his opinions to himself. He died when Shuuichi was 7. A few short years later, Kenjiro was in a fatal accident. The life insurance wasn’t much, and she'd had to start working to pay the mortgage, their living expenses, Shuuichi’s school fees…

It felt like drowning.

Just as she thought she’d grabbed ahold of a rescue line in the form of Kazuya, she got sick.

“Baabaa!” Kouichi’s voice returned her to the present moment. He was waving the book at her. She accepted it, and he crawled into her lap, leaning back against her chest and warming her heart as she read to him. She’d drown a thousand times if it meant having her life now, her second family and this grandchild.

They read the book, ate snack, and dressed for the outdoors. On the wall alongside the coat closet was a framed photo from Shuuichi’s wedding day. He was smiling, happiness in his eyes, surrounded by their family and his closest friends.

She’d gotten sick, then a miracle happened. Shuuichi made friends. They hadn’t been the sort she’d imagine he’d associate with, but she didn’t care what the other mothers in town said, those boys were angels, and they grew up to be fine young men. She’d heard Yusuke and Keiko were expecting a child. She hoped their baby would be as good a friend to Kouichi as Yusuke was to Shuuichi.  

“Baabaa!” Kouichi called her again. He couldn't reach the door handle by himself.

He was a miracle too.

Shiori enjoyed the rest of the day with her grandson. The weather was unseasonably beautiful. They went to the park and played in the sand. On the way home, Kouichi fell asleep in his sling, and Shiori kept him close while she prepped lunch. Shuuichi hadn’t packed any food in the diaper bag, so she made her own choices: cut up apple, edamame, and soft spiral pasta. Kouichi ate half of it when he woke up, threw the other half on the floor. They walked around the backyard and the old garden Shuuichi had planted. Kouichi had a second nap. Throughout the day, Shiori took too many pictures on her smartphone.

It was evening and they were playing stacking blocks when the front door opened, keys jingling loudly in the genkan. She sang out, “Okaerinasai!”

Kouichi tried, but only managed, “Oooosai!”

Two voices returned tired, “Tadaima.”

Kazuya shuffled into the living room first, and she forgave him for going straight to Kouichi, “Kou-kun, grandpa’s home!” Kouichi immediately abandoned his blocks for hugs, lifting his arms to be picked up. It was amazing how the little boy’s presence restored Kazuya’s depleted energy.

“How’d the meeting go today?” Shiori asked when her son joined them.

“Good.” He answered. “Signed the contract. How was Kouichi?”

“Wonderful.” She said as Kazuya passed Shuuichi the baby with a high pitched, “Yay, daddy!”

Shuuichi accepted his child, but he was clearly at a loss for what to do next. Shiori laughed.

He looked at her incredulously, “What are you laughing about?”

“Nothing, it’s just,” She tried biting back her grin, “You’re finally acting like I anticipated.”

His brow furrowed.

She hurried to explain, “Don’t take it the wrong way, it’s only that, since the day you were born, I had all these ideas about how you’d grow and you always surprised me, did things your own way. Now that you’re a father, you’ve surprised me by being, well, exactly as I expected.”

Shuuichi looked down at Kouichi, who immediately went to grab his father’s nose. He pulled his head back, lowering the baby in his arms to save his face. Shiori laughed again.

“You’re just as clueless as I was.” She closed the space between them, wrapping her arms around her son and grandson. “I love you, Shuuichi.”

“I love you too, mother.” He seemed to soften. “By the way, the daycare called and said they will be closed the rest of the week. I could take Kouichi to work tomorrow—”

“Nonsense. An office is no place for a baby. He belongs at grandma’s house.”

“Thank you.”

She suspected he’d be on his way soon, but she tried to keep them longer. “Will you stay for dinner?”

He surprised her again with his answer. “We’d love to.”

On the train home that night, Kurama made peace with relinquishing control. In the past it’d been a triumph of sorts, keeping secrets from his mother. He’d managed to hide an entire other life from her. It was foolish to think she hadn’t noticed. It’d been obvious from the start her son was different than the other neighborhood boys, but she had loved and cared for him just the same. Patient and kind, a mother who’d given him everything. If he had taken the chance of raising a normal child from her, the very least he could do was give her Kouichi in return.

The baby was asleep, eyelashes long and dark against his rosy cheeks. His head was cradled in the sling, face half pressed to Kurama’s chest. He could feel the drool seeping through his collared shirt. Kouichi was cute, and while Kurama couldn’t judge brains yet-- the kid put shoes in his mouth-- he thought his son had a good disposition. He’d be a good grandchild, someone who could make Shiori proud. She sorely deserved that kind of happiness.

It wasn’t right to keep this child away from her. As she’d said, he had no idea what he was doing. No new parent really did. It was okay to rely on her. He wasn’t burdening her.

He was finally doing something right.

The daycare had been his idea. He was sure his wife wouldn’t mind withdrawing.  

[idosurveystovent]

7.

Adam: Is there a secret you’ve tried to hide from everyone for a long time? 

I have a lot of secrets. A lot of stupid shit that I am ashamed of. But nothing really major at all.

Alex: Have you ever been confused about your sexuality? 

no

Alli: What are the best and worst things a significant other has ever done to or for you?

Best: Seth literally saved my life. He got me to sober up from several addictions and he has always loved Makena like she was his biological daughter.  Worst: I am torn in between my first husband walking out on me suddenly because his dad paid him to...orrrrr My second husband that was kinda abusive. One time that sticks out is when he tackled me in his living room in front of his parents, his new girlfriend, my mom and seth (my current fiancé) because I took an ornament off the Christmas tree that I thought belonged to me. No one tried to stop him or did shit about it either. lol

Anya: Have you ever tried drugs? yes.

Ashley: Have you ever changed your image? 

I've dyed my hair, gauged my ears. and that's about it

Becky: Have you ever stepped outside of your comfort zone to do something you thought was right? 

I probably have...but its not something I would typically do. The borders of my comfort zone are STRONG

Bianca: Have you ever experienced an intense event that changed your perspective on something? 

yes

Cam: Have you ever had to stay strong and hold on during something that caused you physical, mental, or emotional pain? 

when my son died. who knew that keeping that shit bottled up is harmful

Chantay: Do you like to gossip, or do you prefer to keep your mouth shut? 

I am a terrible gossip. I'm sure its just a matter of time before I lose my job over it. I work with a bunch of dramatic, crybaby 30-40 year olds. its ridiculous 

Clare: Are your parents divorced? 

well not technically yet, I don’t think. they are separated though, since late 2016

Connor: Do you consider yourself intelligent? 

semi intelligent

Craig: Have you ever run away from home?

nope.

Dallas: Do you put family first, friends, relationships, school, or something else?
 family (my fiancé and daughter)

Darcy: Have you ever fallen for someone you never thought you’d like?
 yes.

Dave: Have you ever had a very rough breakup? 

sure

Declan: Do you like to date people casually, or do you prefer long-term and exclusive relationships? long term for sure.

Derek: Have you ever judged someone before getting to know them, or the other way around?
 yes.

Drew: Are you athletic or do you play any sports? 

I am like the least athletic person in the world, although I did play softball until middle school

Eli: Do you suffer from any mental disorders?

tons. bi polar, add, depression, anxiety, and PTSD

Ellie: Have you ever self-harmed?

yeah. when I was young and thought it was like cool or something

Emma: What’s something you’ve stood up for in the past?

nothing comes to mind

Fiona: Have you ever tried drinking? 

yea

Holly J: What’s something you worked extremely hard to get? 

nothing really.

Imogen: Do you have any beloved pets?
 yes. a pit-chow that I rescued from the pound when I got sober. we have ashihtzu right now that we are babysitting for my dog that we were thinking about keeping but that tard has pissed in my floor like 20 times since sunday night and I am ready to kill him. and then I brought home a solid black kitten two nights ago. his name is Bagheera

Jake: Are you the outdoorsy type, or would you rather stay inside?

inside

Jane: Have you ever cheated on anyone? 

yes

Jay: Have you ever changed yourself permanently for a guy/girl? nope, I don’t think so

J.T.: What’s something you’ve had to step up and take serious responsibility for?

my daughter of course, my rent, car payment, insurance, credit card bills, groceries, electric, internet, water............

Jenna: Have you ever done something drastic to gain the attention of someone you were interested in? no.

Jimmy: Have you ever forgiven someone that may not have deserved it?yeah. I'm way too fuckin nice

Johnny: Have you ever told a serious lie to anyone?

I'm sure I have

Katie: Are you satisfied with your body image?
 no.

K.C.: How is your relationship with your parents?
 it’s whatever. I don’t really fuck with them as much as I should but their divorce had me majorly fucked up for a minute

Liberty: What do you want to major in in college, and where do you want to go? 

n/a

Luke: What’s your religion? 

baptist

Manny: Have you ever been labeled negatively or otherwise been called something extremely derogatory?
 yes lol

Marco: What’s your sexuality? heterosexual

Marisol: Do you look out for others over yourself, or the other way around?
 i usually put others before myself.

Maya: Have you ever had to deal with the loss of a loved one?
 yes.

Mia: How many kids do you want to have? 

I will only ever have one :( I had a stillborn baby in 2011, had my living daughter in June 2012 and got my tubes tied right after that because they never figured out why Bryson died and also, the pregnancy is extremely rough on me. 8+ months of strict bedrest plus 2 weeks of hospital bedrest, until I have baby. And I have to have surgery with each pregnancy

Miles: What’s the last extravagant purchase you made? 

computer?

Mo: Are you scared of any aspect of the future? 

blah...not really. shit happens. there will be good times and bad times. 

Owen: Have you ever been involved in bullying, whether it was the victim or the bully?
 not really. 

Paige: What’s the number one thing about school that overwhelms you?
 i don’t go to school anymore. I’m 28 lol

Peter: Have you ever seriously taken advantage of someone or been taken advantage of?
 no.

Riley: Is there anything about yourself that you really want to change?
 yes!

Sean: Have you ever gotten into a fistfight?
 no. never been in any real fight, if you don’t count the abusive men I liked to date and the time my mother in law tried to beat me up and throw me off of her tall ass porch

Spinner: Have you ever been seriously ill? no. flu is the worst thing I have ever had

Terri: Has anyone close to you ever hurt you, physically or emotionally?
 emotionally. I have been physically abused before but I would much rather be hit than being told how much I am a lazy piece of shit. bruises and shit heal, but those comments and things that are said when we are mad or drunk or whatever....that shit stick in my brain so much and I can’t get it out and it tortures me to the point that I just want to die because if the person who was supposed to love you says that you are all these things, just imagine what everyone else thinks.

Tori: Have you ever befriended a former enemy? 

idk probably

Tristan: Do you consider yourself up-to-date with all the latest gossip, trends, movies, etc.?
 not really

Wesley: Do you drive? yes.

Winston: Do you feel like people notice you?

I would prefer them not to

Zane: Have you ever had to help someone through a very tough time in their life?
 yes.

Zig: Have you ever liked someone else while you were in a relationship? 

yeah

Zoe: Do you dream of being famous and living the high life, or do you prefer living more quietly and not in the spotlight? living quietly. I would HATE the spotlight