#I might be a little silly but Amy losing her parents and being alone for so long and being the reason why she's always hanging onto Sonic-

[piko-power]

My Personal Headcanon On Why Amy's Love For Sonic Died Down Lately (and their dynamic)

When they were younger, Amy's love for Sonic was pretty extreme, and Sonic was, understandable, uncomfortable for the most part. He knows she means well, but that girl needs to calm down.

She can fight, but sometimes her hammer could only stun her enemies for a while. (It took her a long time to get rid of that robot that has been chasing her around Station Square.) She wasn't fully independent yet, even if she fought on her own a couple of times.

She often follows Sonic and his friends around. She is part of the team, but she was not a strong as she is now at the time yet.

She admires Sonic. A LOT. And Sonic knows that. Obviously, he could only run away from something like that, since he is NOT ready for that kind of thing, and whether Amy takes the hint or stop, she still loves him.

...BUT, I think things were slightly starting to change between her and Sonic after Lost World.

Remember this line?

You remember that? Okay, okay. Here's another totally unrelated question:

Before the events of Lost World, when was the last time Amy said "I love you" to Sonic out loud?

...YEP. 😈 (Unless I'm missing something, let me know lmao)

As more games and adventures come out, the characters get slightly older, and Amy is 12 to 13 now, and she is most certainly at that age where her body starts to change, but especially on how she views Sonic.

She knows she loves Sonic, but it was this moment during her change where she actually wanted to admit that she loves him.

I believe that Amy was all about sharing her affection to him not through confessions, but through obvious hints. Sonic totally got it, and there was no need to confess. Sonic knows she loves her.

...But she never said it. And she almost did, but she never did again for a while.

I think this was the moment in her life where, oh, God, she actually loves Sonic. SHE LOVES HIM, WHAT.

And she was looking back at all the times she had with Sonic that she can now see were unpleasant to Sonic (At least that's what she thinks) and that's probably why she isn't so expressive about her love to him than how she used to back then.

She wasn't sure what to do with this realization, and sets aside it for a while, and nearly stayed as her casual, peppy self... until the Eggman War happened.

During the 6 months of being with the Resistance, fighting Eggman's army all day and all night, all she can think of was Sonic.

She dreams that he still with not just her, but with her friends. She just wanted to see Sonic again, she just wants to be with her hero again.

But I'd like to think that she was also thinking about how she used to treat Sonic back when they were younger, how Sonic would almost always run away from her whenever she asks him out, or always look so uncomfortable whenever she gets so close to him.

Cringing at those memories big time, she wanted to change and hopefully when Sonic is okay and comes back, she can be better for him.

...Or will he still find her uncomfortable regardless? Would he even be happy to see her at all if he did survive?

But, hold on! She can't just give up her love for Sonic! He made her who she is today! A peppy, nature-loving, hammer-swinging, confident, brave... loud-mouth... annoying... Sonic obsessed... weak... pathetic... lonely little girl.

If she gives up on Sonic, it'll be like she gave up on the one hedgehog who saved her life. If she didn't she'll still be the same ol' Amy.

I also like to think she had parents a long while before she met Sonic, and was even expecting a little sister, but a robot invasion happened from where she was and attacked her parents and instead of trying to save them, after getting hurt, she ran away, hoping that they'll come back okay. But they never did.

She was all alone, and needed someone, a friend, a new family, someone who will hold her hand, anyone, to be there for her. But she was ignored by lots, and at that point, she's better off by herself, but still longed for company.

Eventually though, her tarot cards told her her future hero, and there might be hope after all. She encountered Sonic, held onto the belief of the cards tight, and the rest is history.

So, with that headcanon in mind, not only did Amy loose her parents that she didn't save because of her cowardliness (she was only so little at the time that happened) and also Sonic, who she thought will be her only hope, but now gone.

She doesn't even care if he did come back, he'd probably hate her now after everything she did to him, always talking about their "future wedding" or forcing him to go to Twinkle Park.

For the last few months of the war, it was nothing but Amy mentally beating herself up for either refusing to change or moving on, and they are both not fine choices.

She loves Sonic, but he does not love her, and she finally, finally realized it. And it's probably for the best if no body loved her at all.

But of course Sonic did survive and all of her worries wash away in an instant, she's just not expressive about her love for Sonic AT ALL now, since she's still worried about it but rather not mention it to Sonic because it doesn't matter.

If Sonic doesn't love her, then her feelings don't matter to him, and according to Amy herself, that is okay.

But also, I'd like to think that Sonic was thinking about his friends a lot up in the Death Egg for the past months, sometimes it's Tails (worried for his safety), sometimes it's Shadow (because he's wondering why he would join Eggman.) At some point, for a few days, Amy was in his mind the longest, and he felt bad about how he thought he was rude and pushy to her.

He wondered if she's not thinking about it too much, and if she is, will she give up on him? Yeah, he doesn't feel the same and still not looking for a relationship, but it's so strange but interesting how anyone could ever like someone like Sonic the Hedgehog. Amy was never afraid to show that, and she probably might be now.

He couldn't help but feel guilty. They were kids when she was like this, but he was so... arrogant at the time too. Not a lot happened at the time yet. He'd always have trouble expressing how much he value his friends, until he shattered the Paradox Prism. (I'd like to think Prime took place before Forces. It makes sense.)

She is such a sweet girl, and he probably made her believe that he didn't care for her. Just because he doesn't feel the same, that doesn't mean he hates her at all.

He wished he never ran away from Amy... Worrying for his little bro and wishing to be a good person for Amy was when Sonic cried in the Death Egg for the first and only time.

Frontiers, in my opinion, is kind of confirming their dynamic now. Sonic is a lot more sincere and kinder to Amy and she is not all hyperactive and lovey to Sonic. There is probably a real reason for this now.

They are both hiding their feelings from them, and they are both unaware of this. Amy, hiding her mental issues from Sonic, and Sonic, hiding his guilt away from Amy.

None of those things are important now. Sonic is with Amy and Amy is with Sonic. They are here with each other. They can be finally be better for each other now.

They don't care if they'll ever be something more when they get older. None of that matters anymore. They are here with each other. They can be finally be better for each other now.

Maybe someday they'll both talk about it, but for now, the present is important. They care about each other too much to think about it right now.

It's the kind of love that is unbreakable. It doesn't even have to be romantic. It's just love. Love is important for everyone, in any form. It's something Sonic and his friends need. And especially Sonic and Amy.

Amy Rose is the living embodiment of love, and without her, a lot would go downhill for Sonic and co. Heck, if it weren't for her, Shadow wouldn't have never remembered Maria's promise, which lead him to save the world with Sonic, before he temporarily disappeared from their lives for a while.

She is always there to lend a helping hand for anybody, even bad guys like Metal Sonic, and despite what she had been through, both in Forces and headcanon wise, she still fights back, even without her hammer.

She will pick you back up on your feet, reminding you that you are important and that you are loved, and that you should never give up. It's pretty much the words of encouragement she herself needed also...

She is still the happy, hyper, butt-kicking hedgehog we all know and love, but she still need someone to pick her back up on her feet after so long. Thankfully, she has her friends and her blue hero. The hero who made her who she is today.

I think Amy has no idea how important she thought she is, but Sonic does. Sonic knows fully well how important she is to a lot of people. It's about time he returns the favor to her. It's his turn to remind her how much a lot of people love her.

How much he loves her.

And I feel like The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog was the moment where their dynamic really shined, but also the starting point of their relationship not only healing, but also the next chapter of what's to come for them.

Everyone, friends old and new, gathered around for a special birthday. A birthday for the confident, unshakable, and radiant Amy Rose.

It was such a special moment in Amy's life. After years of chasing and following the people she look up to, she is part of the team, but most importantly, she is part of the family.

She is fully realized as someone more than just a fangirl, but someone strong, courageous, creative, kind and a big inspiration for others.

I feel like this moment here...

-is where Amy is eternally grateful to call her friends her family. A family she thought she'll never have again. She's not alone anymore, and as long as they're by her side, she'll never will be again.

Her chasing days are over. She's finally caught up to them. She's finally home.

And it's all thanks to Sonic.

If it weren't for him, she'd probably be alone forever. Her past moments with Sonic might be embarrassing to look back on for a while, but they are good memories regardless, because they involve him.

Sonic saved her life in more ways than one, and despite everything, he's grateful to have her too.

He cares about her. He really does... And in her eyes, that all she needed to know. As long as Sonic loves her in his own way, she'll be happy.

Amy hasn't given up on Sonic. As long as Amy always supports him, he'll be happy.

Maybe sometime in the future, they can talk about their problems, but that's a story for another time. At this point, they need to. Right now, they are happy. They are okay.

They are here for each other. They are finally better for each other now.

"You guys won't ever leave me, right?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

[ofhoneyandrosepetals]

We Move Lightly - 9

Pairing: Modern!Ivar x reader

Description: Y/N moved back in with her parents, after 7 years of taking care of her grandparents in another town. She had no idea how her neighbors would be, or who would they be, or even that she would fall in love with one of them.

Warnings: none.

Word count: 3.043

A/N: Y/L/N stands for “your last name”, as you may already know.

After that day, when Ivar took you to his favorite place in Kattegat and told you a bit of his personal story, he kind of went M.I.A. Not that this was a bad thing - it wasn’t, in fact -, but it had you worried. Have you done something wrong? Have he done something wrong? Maybe he regretted telling you so much about himself - it was really personal, you thought. Of course you loved the fact that he told you, because it showed that he was already feeling comfortable to be himself around you, to tell you things about him and about his life - not his family life, but his life. He was coming around, ready to let you know more about him, so you could love him, for who he is. Ivar always texted you, even if to send a random emoji to just give a heads up. But this time, he didn’t. And that’s why, a couple of days later, when you saw his name at your notification center in your phone, your heart jumped. It said: wanna come over? Simple as this. For the first time you doubted. You never doubted before on how to talk to Ivar or how to text him back; these things just flow. There’s no wonder that you had to make an emergency call. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Amy said from the other line after you got her up to speed. “I’m not even going to answer this, Y/N,” and so she hung up. You stared at your phone screen for a couple of seconds, processing what just happened plus her reaction. With a bit of caution, you type down sure for Ivar. His response is immediate. Have you had lunch yet?, he asked. Nope. Have you? Nope. You waited, counting the time, waiting if he would say something more. I’m kinda in a middle of something here in the kitchen, so… wanna come over, like, now? You bit your lower lip, trying to contain your smile. Sure. Putting some clothes on, you look at the corner of your room, where your latest painting was. After your date with Ivar, the next day you started painting that beautiful sunset view at the lake. You didn’t have to take a picture - it was all too well captured in your memory. The paint flowed through the canvas like the waves flow through the ocean. You had the intention to give it to Ivar as a gift, but all that M.I.A. thing made you think twice. You decided to leave the paint there - you didn’t want to push things. * You felt a little bit weird, thinking if something went wrong but, when Ivar opened the door for you to come in, all of that went missing, far far away. His smile and bright eyes that welcomed you were so warm that you had no more doubts left - nothing went wrong, or at least not with you. Maybe that was just a thing. A normal thing between people who went on dates. Or maybe a normal thing between you and Ivar, and you were the one that was overreacting. But, at the middle of the movie you two were watching, Ivar said lowly: “I’m sorry I went missing.” “What?” You asked without processing, looking suddenly at him. “I’m sorry I went missing,” he repeated. “What do you mean, Ivar?” Of course you knew what he meant, but you wanted to hear it from him. “I just felt that I might have pushed a little too much by telling you all of that story; I should’ve just showed you the place and shut the fuck up-” “Ivar,” you interrupted him, touching his right cheekbone, making him turn to you - he was looking at his hands, twisting his fingers. “I appreciated that you told me that, it really means a lot. I wish I could be open the way you were.” “Do you?” He asked, looking deeply into your eyes. The gaze he held made you wanna continue. “Yes,” you said low and slowly. You went for a kiss, pulling Ivar by his shirt, feeling his scent. His lips departed when it met yours and, for the first time, he let you control the kiss. You couldn’t say if it was a planned thing or if it was simply because you caught him off guard. You moved closer to Ivar, his hands going for your hips, trailing paths in between your hips and waist. As the kiss was growing, so was your tension and your lack of air. Ivar stopped to catch a bit of air and you took advantage of the moment to leave wet little kisses on his neck, making him shiver and sigh, his grip on your body getting stronger. You went once again for his lips, but this time he dominated the kiss. Your brief moment of glory was over. You felt Ivar muscles under his shirt and his jeans, a really turn on on you. His fingers were placed on the waistband of your jeans. He didn’t move them, he didn’t try to unbutton it, he didn’t say nor ask anything. He was only there, holding you, making sure you weren’t going anywhere but near him. After some point his fingers left, almost like if he had gave up on something, to firmly grip you by your waist, pulling you onto his body with strength, his body against yours in a way that made you sigh. His hands were strong against your flesh and muscles. “If we go any further we’ll end up doing something…” he said. “And what would that be?” You asked. “You know it, dove…” he continued to kiss you. “But I want to take my time with you. There’s no rush.” * You woke up by the smell of something being cooked. At some point after your make out session - which Ivar made sure to be only that -, as you finished the movie you were watching, as smoothly as a cat your head fell on Ivar’s shoulder and the sleep took you away. Stretching, you sit on the couch. “Hey, you’re awake. I’m making dinner for us.” “Oh…” you were still a little sleepy. “How much time did I sleep?” Ivar looked at the clock. “Two hours I think.” “What? Two hours?! You could’ve waken me up!” “And why would I do such a thing?” He asked in a sassy way. “Because you invited me over and I fell asleep, leaving you alone.” “Hey, Y/N, don’t care about it, alright? You slept under my arms, so that counts for something…” You remembered what he had said before, where you two could be heading and instantly you felt your cheeks burning. “Yeah,” you said quickly, looking for your shoes. “Are you leaving?” Ivar asked, taking note of what you were doing, his brows furrowed. “Oh, no no… I was… just looking for them. I have an ability to lose shoes.” “Right… an ability to lose shoes,” Ivar abandoned his position at the kitchen and, getting his crutch, he went to the living room. “Dinner’s almost ready. It just needs a little of… Y/N’s touch,” his bright, sassy smile. “Well, what a delight would that be, huh?” You play. Ivar gave you his hand so you could get up from the couch. “I really liked the movie - what did you think?” He asked when you two got in front of the kitchen island, the rest of the ingredients placed all over the light granite. “I’m sure that if you’ve watched the end you would’ve like it.” “Get out of here!” You said laughing as you threw at him a piece of vegetable. * A couple of days later, in the middle of the night, you woke up from a nightmare. You were breathing hard and your face and pillow were wet of tears. You remembered what the nightmare was about and you started crying again, feeling helpless and scared, grabbing hard your pillow. After some tears you looked over your phone and thought about calling Ivar. You didn’t want to wake him up at this time of the night, but you were scared. I’m sure he won’t bother, you thought. You called him. Ivar answered almost immediately, his voice hoarse and lost. “Hello?” “Ivar?” You sniffed. “Y/N? Is that you? Oh Gods, are you crying? What happened?” The sleep in his voice went fastly to an alarmed tone, and you hear him getting up and sitting. “I had a bad dream,” you said lowly, your voice tone showing vulnerability. “I couldn’t think of anyone else, I just wanted to call you, to…” you couldn’t continue. “And what was that bad dream about? Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head, but then you remembered he couldn’t see the movement. “No, I don’t. Not now.” “How are you feeling?” He asked carefully, gently. You could hear that he was laying down again. “Scared. I’m scared and all alone.” “You’re not alone. I’m right here. At the other line. And the next door,” you smiled. “Do you wanna know what was my dream about?” You smiled even more at his childish tone. “Tell me.” “I was dreaming of this beautiful landscape at Sweden when I traveled with my family so many years ago. All the mountains, the green grass and the blue, clear sky. And there’s a lake, where swans are swimming all around, and the sun reflects at the water - making me blind for a second, by the way,” you laughed a little. “And everything’s perfect. There’s no one at this perfect piece of land, only animals, and no fear is ever found. No bad things. Only peace.” You started feeling sleepy with Ivar’s soft tone, and you knew that everything he was telling you it wasn’t true; he wasn’t dreaming about it, because he never even went to Sweden, or at least you thought so. He was telling you what he thought it was the right thing for you to hear, and he was right. Ivar was so goddamn right. The fact you knew it was a lie didn’t ruin the effect of it and you fell asleep in the middle of the call, Ivar hearing you falling asleep as he kept talking about that paradisiac place, so you could hear him in your sleep and don’t wake up again, at least not from a bad dream. * You and Ivar were constantly exchanging silly messages when you couldn’t see each other. You thought that he was probably making it up by all that time he spent M.I.A., but it was okay. He felt insecure and embarrassed of revealing you so much about himself. You weren’t in any place to judge him - you would do the same thing. He never asked what the bad dream was about, nor mentioned it. You always had one foot behind, afraid that he might ask. But Ivar was tactful enough to never do so. Even though Ivar was already in summer vacations, he wasn’t in his “family vacations”, as he liked to point out. “We’re just trying to get all done,” he said to you once, but you didn’t know what he was talking about and you didn’t ask. That day you discovered. You were sprawled out in your armchair, enjoying the boredom of summer vacation as you saw the leaves from the Lothbrok’s tree, or what you could see from that distance from your window. Your phone started ringing and lazily you got it from the floor, an easy task because of your position. Anyone who took a peek at your window from a distance would think you were dead - or simply passed out. Ivar started talking the moment you accepted the call. “I can’t do it without you,” he said, almost a mumble. “I think I’m grateful that I’m needed, then.” “Will you go with me?” Ivar was making no sense. “That depends, because as you can see from your window I’m a very busy person,” you could see Ivar sat in his desk, probably on his computer. He turned, got up and went to the window. “Okay, that’s not creepy at all, Y/L/N. Are you okay?” “Just enjoying my summer vacation. It’s been a trip,” you heard Ivar’s laugh. “But you made no sense, Ivar. What are you talking about?” “The reason why we still didn’t have our time together. I’ll only have my vacation when Hvitserk’s and Sigurd’s birthday come. They had the luck to born in the same week, a couple of years separating them.” “What a fortunate event, just when I thought your family couldn’t be more crazy.” “It’s unbelievable, right? The two pains in my ass are born two days one after another, every year when I get vacation.” “I can’t imagine how you suffer.” “You could, if you gimme some of your precious time and company. What do you say?” “I charge per hour.” “Can I pay with ice cream? It’s a hot day,” you pretend to think, humming. You got up in a jump and closed the curtains of your window so Ivar couldn’t peek. “Gimme five.” * Ivar was leaning on his car’s hood, his hands on his jeans’ pocket. He kept staring at you all the way as you walked closer, making you shy. His one side smile didn’t help at all. You weren’t wearing any dress, only a simple combination of shorts and sneakers. “This colour looks good on you,” he said as he pinched the fabric and gave you a kiss on your cheek, an unexpected gesture. He opened the door for you. “You still didn’t tell me what we’re doing.” “Because maybe if I stop thinking about it I won’t have to buy presents for both of them,” your laugh just came out, loud. “What? What’s so funny?” He smiled, probably by the effect of your laugh. “Are you freaking out because you don’t know what to buy to your brothers?” “It’s not only that, you see. The whole event is just stressing. My mom can’t stop screaming around what’s missing on the list. A single birthday in my family is stressing enough, so just double it. And add the fact that the bastards are both Sigurd and Hvitserk. Sigurd is a little bitch and Hvitserk always wants something specifically. That changes every year, by the way. We never handle the combination. It never works. We always do something in our house for family and close friends, but there’s always their separate commemorations. Sig wants to go to a concert, Hvit to a club. We have friends in common, it sucks.” “Why didn’t your parents had two Ivars, right? So you could attend both events.” “And two Ubbes.” “Well, I’m only interested in Ivars at the moment, but I think Amy would love two Ubbes,” it was Ivar’s turn to laugh loudly, peeking at you, too concentrated on the traffic. “Those bastards already have everything. I don’t know what I can buy them.” “It’s a birthday, Ivar, and they’re already grown. A present is supposed to be meaningful.” “Then I think you should paint me for them. Naked, preferably.” “Oh god,” you said laughing. “I think I know what you can buy.” “Meaningfully?” “Meaningfully.” “I trust you, then.” * You knew Hvitserk liked parties and Sigurd had a band, so you asked Ivar if he knew what kind of beverage Hvitserk liked the best and what was Sigurd’s favorite band. The answers came without a second thought. “If I knew you would give me such a financial loss I would’ve let you in the armchair,” you knew Ivar was messing only because of his smile - you could see through it - , but it didn’t stop you feeling a bit guilty. “Sorry,” you said shyly. “Hey,” Ivar said, but you didn’t look at him. “Hey, look at me,” his voice was careful. You looked at him. “You know I wasn’t serious, right? Money is not a problem, and I - oh Gods -, I do love my brothers, but the jokes speak louder. Your ideas were great, and I decided to buy only the fancy shit. I was just… shit, I’m so idiot,” he said to himself. “Sometimes I can’t help myself.” “Ivar, it’s okay. Really,” you said with a little smile. “No, it’s not. I made a joke that hurt your feelings.” “I’m not hurt…” “Uncomfortable, then. Hey, come sit here,” Ivar sat in a bench in a private corner of the mall, tapping the space next to him. He grabbed your hand, his hands being surprisingly gentle. “Do you forgive me?” You let out a silent laugh, looking down. “How can I forgive something that didn’t happen? It’s okay, Ivar, I told you.” “Damn, for a moment I thought you were about to say ‘how can I forgive you for being such an idiot?’” He placed one hand on his chest, right in front of his heart. You laughed. “I just got surprised for a bit. It’s nothing. I knew you were messing - your smile gave it away,” he smiled at that, a big smile. You had no idea what he was thinking, but god knew how you wanted to. “And what does that give you?” There’s this thing that boys’ eyes do before they’ll go for a kiss, and Ivar’s eyes had this kind of bright. He leaned to kiss you, a gentle peck, a massage to your lips. It had no tongue, only his plump, soft lips. It was enough to make your whole system go nuts. “It’s good,” you said biting your lower lip in an attempt to contain your silly smile. “I didn’t ask what it was,” he raised his eyebrows. But you couldn’t answer his question, so in exchange you punched his arm. Not with strength, obviously. “Do you wanna come to our Great-Messy-Double Birthday Party this saturday? You’re my special guest,” Ivar said in a mocking tone of a lord, a thing he did quite often. To steal you giggles, you supposed. “It’s an honour,” you answered in a mocking tone of a lady. “Then is settled.”

Taglist:  @mblaqgi @akamaiden @dangerousvikings @oddsnendsfanfics @deepdarkred @irishhiggins @tinypuppysoul @kingbouji3 @i-war-s-boner @capitanostella @loothbrok @noaor @thehuntress26 @sassymcgonagal1651 @hoodirwin5 @attorneyl @collecting-stories @certainobservationwasteland @dreams-in-different-colours @3x5gurl @readsalot73 @action-adventure-and-cheesecake @titty-teetee @cutiedaij @austenkingmylady @ivarthesweetheart @golden-pickaxe @lokis-sunflower-anna @bill-istvan @cynthianokamaria @slut4hazeleyes @chinduda @hallowed-heathen @cherryblossombaby69 @paintballkid711 @bisexual-dane @youbloodymadgenius @fuckthatfeeling

[cptnsantiago]

stars (they make me wonder where you are)

summary: Rosa doesn’t remember much - meetings with lawyers, Jake being buried next to Amy, Charles screaming in grief, Holt sobbing whilst holding Kevin. Rosa does remember moving into her two best friends apartment when she is appointed the guardian to their child. 

read on ao3 / major character death

“Hey it’s me! Your daddy-o!” Jake’s hold on his phone is shaky, but his happiness evident. “So it’s November 23rd, 4:38 in the morning and your mom has been experiencing contractions for about 3 hours!”

Jake turns his phone slightly to include Amy in the frame, who looks uncomfortable but happy sitting up in their bed. “How are you feeling Ames!?”

“Well she’s definitely on her way.” Amy’s hands are resting low on her stomach, and she cringes with a smile as another contraction begins. “It’s really not that bad, you know since I can- ah!”

Amy breathes deeply for another 15 seconds before she relaxes. “You know because I can still talk during them.”

“Okay babe, whatever you say.”

CUT

“It’s your dad again with birth update!” Jake sighs happily, “It is 0700 and contractions are about 12 minutes apart so still too early to go to the hospital but we’re walking around the apartment trying to move it along.”

“Jake do you really need to this?” Amy whines, “We’ve had no sleep and I’m uncomfortable and in pain.”

The camera quickly faces the floor but doesn’t stop recording, “I thought it might be fun to look back one day, but I can stop if you want me to.”

There’s silence for a moment before Amy agrees to let him do it. “So how are you feeling Ames?”

“I feel like I need you to come out of me much quicker please.” Amy says directly into the camera, as if talking to her daughter.

CUT

~

Luna Santiago-Peralta is put in the care of Rosa Diaz when she is only 5 weeks old.

It was written in their will. If anything were to happen to them, the care of their daughter would be passed to her godmother.

Karen found her son peacefully asleep with Luna screaming in his arms, but he doesn’t respond. Jake is a heavy sleeper, but with the baby right in his arms he should at least stir. Karen then notices how pale and unmoving her son is.

She rushes to his side, take his cold wrist and checking for any sign for a pulse. Any sign of life. Her arms rush to grab her granddaughter as her chest constricts and her spare hand shakes as she goes to call someone - anyone .

It’s a blur of tears from there and she’s trying to calm down Luna but she is screaming like she’s never heard a baby scream before. It’s not long before Captain Holt appears with Rosa who both falter at the sight of Jake and Karen sobbing holding a screaming baby.

Rosa doesn’t remember much - meetings with lawyers, Jake being buried next to Amy, Charles screaming in grief, Holt sobbing whilst holding Kevin. Rosa does remember moving into her two best friends apartment when she is appointed the guardian to their child.

She feels her chest tighten at the sight of the photos of Jake and Amy scattered around the apartment, the die hard posters and knitted quilts made by Amy. “I don’t know how to do this, Luna. But I will do my best to make sure you know how much they love you.”

She remembers when she gets the call from Karen, telling her the autopsy revealed that Jake had died of broken heart syndrome. A real thing. Rosa had heard of it before - the stress of grief so bad for some that it affects the heart. In short, his death had been preventable, but no one could get Jake to talk to them.

~

The first time she ventures into Jake and Amy’s room, Luna is almost 3 months old. Rosa had taken to sleeping on the couch, too afraid to change anything about the apartment. Every single person that visits understands.

It’s when Gina suggests they finally move in together when she finally goes inside. “I want her to grow up here, like they intended.”

“I know.” Gina takes her hand, squeezing lightly. “There’s a spare room, so Iggy can have her own room. I know it’s going to be hard… But we can’t keep it all the same. They can’t expect that.”

“They would want us to make it our own.”

~

Gina has Iggy and Luna out for a walk, and so Rosa spends her time alone to empty out some of Jake and Amy’s things out of her (their) room. She is controlling her emotions better as of late, so clearing out Amy’s clothes and putting them away to be donated doesn’t make her cry.

Halfway through Jake’s clothing, she notices an envelope fall out. His messy handwriting looks shakier than she remembers, and it has two words. For Luna . Rosa’s hands begin shaking as she carefully rips the letter open.

Dear Luna,

I hope no one has to give you this letter. But as you know, your mom died shortly after you were born but she bled out too quickly during surgery and passed away.

Your birthday is simultaneously one of the brightest and darkest days I’ve ever experienced. I’ve been separated from your mom before. Undercover mission, Florida, prison. I hope I can make these stories lighthearted for you one day. Right now, I can’t see anything but darkness.

I don’t sleep, I can’t eat and I can’t even bring myself to talk. And I usually talk a lot. The only thing I can do is keep you alive. You are the only thing keeping my heart beating. I can feel my body giving out. I have heart palpitations and pains every day. I want to stay alive for you I do, my baby, but I don’t know how to survive without my Amy. She was everything to me, such a badass and so loving.

I want you to know that I love you more than anything in the world as well as your mom. If you are reading this and it means I’ve died - don’t think this means I love you any less. I love you so fucking much.

I’m sorry. I am really trying to keep myself moving, living. I don’t want you to grow up without your parents. You’ve already lost your mom and you don’t deserve to lose the both of us. I’m trying so hard and I love you so much. I’m so sorry if you can’t understand my pain and I’m sorry for bringing you this pain. I just need you to understand that we love you to the ends of this earth.

Forever your dad,

Jake.

Rosa is furious. Jake knew he was dying. He told no one. The tears are hot on her cheeks and she hears the front door open, the sound of Iggy telling a story to Luna echoing through the apartment.

Gina notices her girlfriend crying, and sends her daughter off to go play before joining Rosa in their bedroom. “Rosa, what’s wrong?” Gina’s wiping the tears off her cheeks, desperately searching her eyes.

“Jake fucking knew he was dying.” Rosa’s voice is strained, and Gina sees her knuckles go white as she grips the letter in her hand.

It doesn’t take Gina long to read the letter, and Rosa’s heart breaks all over again as she reads it and tears roll down her face. “He abandoned her, Gina, the last thing he ever wanted to do. That’s exactly what he did.” Rosa growls stomping to the other side of the room.

“No!” Gina scoffs, “There’s no way he really knew he was dying.”

“ I’m having heart palpitations and pains everyday ! He fucking knew and he told no one!” Rosa wants to scream, the grief and disbelief too overwhelming.

“Try to think how he was feeling! There was no way it was easy to lose his fucking wife right after they had a baby!”

“It’s not fair to Luna! His duty was to be there for his daughter, not to join his wife in the ground!” Rosa is breathing heavily, and she doesn’t think her heart could break any further.

“How would you feel if I died, Rosa?” Gina holds both of her arms still and their eyes connect, “I know I would feel like the world is ending. I would feel like I’m dying! I don’t think he genuinely thought he was about to die. I think he was just trying to get his feelings into words since he felt like he could talk to no one!”

“Luna can never find this.” Rosa shakes her head, wiping the remaining tears off her face.

“It’s for her. She has the right to read it when she’s old enough.”

~

This time it’s Amy holding the phone. “Hola mi amor, it’s your mama. It’s 9:15 and your dad has fallen asleep on me.” Amy quickly shows Jake snoring on her shoulder on the couch, “He thought we could pass time by rewatching Die Hard for the 1001st time and he passed out.”

Amy yawns, “I can’t really sleep when the contractions are just over 10 minutes apart but I try to close my eyes. I’m glad he can get some sleep since he’ll be driving.”

Jake’s eyes flutter open, and slowly he registers that she’s filming. “Oh update time! What time is it?”

“9:17 now.” Amy tells him, “I’ve already done the basic update.”

“Sorry that I fell asleep.” Jake yawns, stretching.

“I can forgive you but I’m not sure Bruce Willis will…”

“AMY HOW DARE YOU-”

CUT

~

They only have family over for Luna’s first birthday. Family being her grandparents and their squad. No one really knows how to go about the day. There’s a cake for Luna, and a framed photo of Jake and Amy at their wedding displayed next to it.

Luna is dressed in a dark blue dress with black tights and there’s a dark bow in her unruly curly hair. Rosa had tried to tame it for photos but the whole day was stressing her out so much that she has to stop in order to catch her breath.

Her smile is so bright and unknowing of the events that happened a year earlier. She waddles around the apartment and giggles when Victor makes silly noises.

Rosa has to wipe her eyes of the tears that escape when Luna waddles over yelling, “Mamamamamaa!”

She spots everyone at different points of the day crying. It’s all so fresh but their life has to move on so they can give Luna the best chance she can get. They take photos and sing happy birthday. Luna smashes into the cake and squeals as she throws it everywhere and puts very little into her mouth.

After giving her a bath and having her fall asleep in Gina’s arms, she’s finally in her cot. The adults all give toasts to Jake and Amy, and reminisce on their favourite memories. Gina holds her hand through it all, just as she had been all year.

~

From the moment Rosa had custody over Luna, she made sure every night she told a story about her parents. Whether it was about their relationship, or a individual story or a whole group story. Sometimes when she had to work late, Gina would take over but her stories always involved herself.

“Roro, can you tell me the dress story again?” Luna asks, crawling into her bed.

“Sure can,” Rosa turns on the bedside nightlight and sits on her bed. “Your mom just became a sergeant and she didn’t want to be judged for looking for a wedding dress, but I caught on, so I forced her to take a break to try on dresses.”

At 5 years old, she has told this story so many times already - it’s her favourite and still Luna takes her bunny and holds it close to her chest as she devotes all her attention to Rosa. “But then when she was wearing the dress, a bad guy was running from the law so your mom leaps over the couch and chases the bad guy down and leaps over all these obstacles - then finally, she tackles him down and takes the sash she’s wearing and restrains him.”

“And then you catch up with her and you’re like ‘damn sarge!’” Luna giggles, her eyes crinkling just like her mothers.

“What is the very important lesson from this?” Rosa asks.

“The lesson is that I should never care what other might think of me, and that women can do everything!” Luna repeats this confidently every time, yawning.

“You are so smart, I love you.” Rosa smooths the curly hair down as she kisses her forehead, “and so does Sergeant Bunny.”

“I love you mommy Roro.”

~

At 6 years old, Charles introduces Luna to her favourite movie - Zootopia. She has Sergeant Bunny near her at all times, as it was something her parents bought her when they found out about her. The few times they almost lost it are the few times Luna had real meltdowns.

Charles always makes sure that he babysits every few weeks so that Rosa and Gina can have a break. This particular night, Iggy is sleeping over at her friends so it’s just Charles and Luna. After they’ve eaten dinner and Luna is in her pyjamas, Charles puts on the movie. Anything to do with cops, she always pays intense attention to. She dances, her curls bounce and her smile is as wide as Jake’s and her eyes bright like Amy.

His heart physically hurts every time he thinks how much like Luna is like her parents. Her personality and looks. She takes games very seriously, when she’s interested in something her focus becomes so serious her eyebrow crinkle the same way Amy’s did.

“I want to be a police woman like mommy and you and grandpa Holt!” Her goofy smile fades slightly, “And like mama and daddy!”

“Yeah? Why do you want to be a police woman?” Charles asks, trying to keep his emotions intact.

“I wanna save the world and catch the bad guys!” Her smile returns quickly, “Mom says mama and daddy were real good superheros!”

“They were. Have you been told the story of the bet where their love story began?” Charles heart clenches again at how her eyes sparkle.

“YES! They bet who could arrest more baddies and daddy won so he took her on the worst date ever but it was really a good date!” Luna knows just about every story possible about her parents. She sits back down and continues to pay attention to the movie.

Once it’s finished, Charles notices that Luna has gone quiet which is very uncharacteristic of her (just like Jake). “Are you tired, Luna?”

“No.” Luna mumbles, “I wish I could meet my mama and daddy. My friends at school know their moms and dads.”

“Not everyone knows their mommies and daddies.” Charles assures her.

“There are others like me?” Luna’s eyes are desperate to know more.

“Niko doesn’t know his birth mommy. I raised him with Aunt Genny.”

“Really?” Her chin wobbles, “Does it ever make him sad?”

“Sometimes, but when that happens we just remind him how loved he is and that we’re here for him. The same goes for you Lulu.” Charles pulls her in for a hug, “Your mama and daddy loved you so much and are always in your heart.”

“Were they with me when I stole a cookie from the jar when I wasn’t supposed to?” A guilty grin forms on her face.

“Yes and they love you unconditionally. Your mama would tell you not to do it again, but then your daddy would sneak you another cookie.” Charles laughs softly, “For every moment you need them, they will be with you.”

~

“It is 10:49 and we are officially going to the hospital!” Jake jumps, giddy, “Care to tell us why?”

“Contractions are 7 minutes apart, much stronger and my water broke about 10 minutes ago.” Amy is panting as she walks up behind him, “I can’t wait to walk a few feet without being out of breath.”

“I never thought I would be more fit than Amy freakin’ Santiago!”

“I have a human baby in me I think that makes me more fit in every way possible.” Jake cracks up at this and Amy is poking her tongue out at him and he kisses her nose in response.

“You are completely right. I love you.”

CUT

~

Luna is 8 and a half when her moms finally get married. Rosa had proposed years earlier, but kept putting it off. She always said she wanted to focus on raising Luna well but always promised Gina that it would happen. They don’t begin planning until she asks them why they aren’t married like all the other parents of her friends.

“It’s complicated…” Rosa begins.

“Is it?” Gina rolls her eyes, “Let’s just do it. Nothing flashy.”

“But it’s your wedding it has to be flashy!” Rosa argues with a pout.

“You guys are all I need to have the perfect wedding.” Gina says with a soft smile, her eyes drifting to one of the pictures of Jake and Amy on their wedding day.

Rosa finally agrees to a simple wedding, and it’s only a month later and she’s braiding Luna’s hair getting her ready to be the flower girl. “Do you have a cool line to say mommy?” She asks as she hops off the stool.

“I don’t know if I can beat ‘your butt is da bomb’, but I can definitely try. I’m not as big of a dork as your parents were!” Rosa giggles, smoothing her own curls as she checks herself in the mirror.

“So not true! I hear you saying cute things to mom all the time!!” She squeals, “You are my everything Gina! What would I do without you my love!”

“You are a little rascal!” Rosa is smiling so wide she might entirely fall apart.

“I learn from the master, GINA LINETTI!” Luna puffs her chest and juts her chin up, pulling off a perfect Amy Santiago power pose.

“Can’t argue with that.”

In the end, Rosa can’t think of anything genius and hilarious to say to express how much she loves Gina. But she is able to show a whole different soft side that her family hasn’t seen before, and she believes that softness was brought out by none other than Luna.

“I can’t wait to spend every day for the rest of my life loving you. Loving you, Iggy and Luna.”

~

“Why haven’t we ever done a Halloween heist?” Luna asks, dropping her school bag on the floor as she enters their apartment.

“Hey Luna, my day was good. How are you?” Rosa raises her eyebrows at her, amused with the lack of greeting.

“Yeah yeah, I’m good now please answer my question.” She sits next to her mom at the table, determined to get the answer out of her.

“Um, well, it never felt right, without Jake and Amy.” Rosa looks down at her hands, “I had you to focus on, we all had families at this point and it hurt thinking of competing without them bickering.”

“I think we should start them again!” Luna tells her, bouncing in her seat. “I know everything about the past Halloween heists and I can fight to defend mama and dad’s titles! Everyone says I’m just like them so I think we can make it work!!”

“I don’t know, it’s a bit different for all of us.” Rosa tells her sternly, her tone warning her to drop it.

“They wouldn’t want you to stop enjoying that part of your life! It was tradition for 8 years! I think it’s a good way to honour their memory-”

“Drop it Luna!” She rarely raises her voice with Luna, only in moments like this where she is so like her parents and the stubbornness is overwhelming.

“NO! I DON’T WANT TO DROP IT!” Luna screams, her frown so deep and it looks like she’s about to have a meltdown.

“What is going on?” Gina rushes into the room, eyes concerned as she looks at her wife and Luna.

“I want to do a Halloween heist to defend my parents title!” Luna stands up and moves closer to Gina, “I think it’s a great idea to honour them but Rosa keeps saying no!”

“Excuse me?” Rosa falters at hearing her name.

“YOU AREN’T MY MOM! GINA ISN’T MY MOM!” Luna wipes the hot tears falling on her face, “I don’t know my mom and dad. I just want to know them but I can’t so I want to do this heist!”

Both Rosa and Gina are crying at this point, speechless at their daughters pain. No one speaks for what feels like hours, but Luna wipes her cheeks again. “Can I go see grandpa Holt?” She asks, her arms folding her and building up her walls. “I’ve got some hard math homework.”

“Baby, you can’t run away from your feelings.” Gina walks closer but Luna steps back, her arms tightening around herself.

“Please do I have permission to run away to grandpa Holt for a night?” Luna hiccups, avoiding all eye contact. Rosa makes the call and it’s not long before Holt is there, taking her bag with pyjamas and change of clothes for school the next day.

“I will make sure she goes to bed at the appropriate time and is at school on time.” Holt tells them with a nod of understanding.

“I love you Rosa and Gina.” Luna mumbles with a wave.

Luna remains silent whilst she completes her homework with Holt’s help, and throughout dinner where she barely eats her plain rice. They are watching Zootopia on the couch when Holt asks, “May I ask why you and Rosa fought?”

“No.” Luna’s eyebrows knit together, trying to focus on the movie in front of them.

“Talking about it tends to help you sort out your emotions.”

“Tell that to Rosa.” Luna still keeps her eyes on the television for a few moments. “I want to do a Halloween heist.”

“Oh…” Holt can feel her tense as his tone. “It’s been a long time.”

“I get that it makes everyone sad to do it without my mom and dad but… I don’t know them and I want to feel like I do. I know they loved me, I know they are with me always - it’s been drilled into me for forever but I still have no way of connecting to them. It’s not fair that you have so much with them and I get nothing!” Luna lets the tears fall freely again, her breath shaking as she speaks.

“It is completely unfair.” Holt agrees, his arm wrapping around her shoulder, “And I believe it would be a brilliant to begin the heists again.”

“Really?” Her eyes sparkle as she turns to him, “I was trying to tell mom that it would be a good way to honour them. And so that I can defend their titles!”

“It’s wonderful, and it will be hard for us but I think I can convince them as the only two time winner.”

“My dad is the only two time winner! Bill had the real belt at midnight so it means he won the heist! And also because that’s when he asked mama to marry him!!” Luna defends fiercely.

“I guess I can concede defeat after 12 years…” Holt chuckles, “You will do well at defending their title.”

Luna gives him a tight hug, “Thank you thank you thank you!”

Come Halloween, Luna is dressed as a mummy and is in the centre of the bullpen holding the statue at midnight. “I WIN! THE SANTIAGO-PERALTA LEGACY LIVES ON! SUCK IT!” She squeals, jumping on the spot.

The entire squad surrounds her and repeats, very happily, “Luna Santiago-Peralta is an amazing human slash genius!”

At that, Luna runs up to Rosa and wraps her in a tight hug. “I love you mom.”

~

“11:26 and we are settled in our room!” Jake voice is loud and unexpected since they are in a hospital. “Contractions are getting closer and more painful for your mom but she’s still on the no medication headset.”

In the background you can hear Amy groan and the camera suddenly faces up to the ceiling, but you can hear Jake coaching Amy through the contraction, telling her how amazing she’s doing and there’s still a short time until Jake picks up his phone again and begins talking again. “Luna, I’m going to take this moment to tell you how badass your mom is.

This wonderful woman here has just spent the past 9 or so months growing you - sacrificing her body and her sleep so that you can be as strong as you can be. I can’t express how much I admire her! She is the strongest woman I know and if you grow up to be like her I will be the proudest man on earth. Except love ninja turtles and Die Hard like me - then you can be the ultimate human slash genius- OH AMES, I can’t wait to introduce her to Halloween heists. This year we teamed up and your mom pretended to be in labour so we could steal the championship wand - Aunt Rosa ended up kicking our ass though. That’s a story for another time. Anything you want to add Amy?”

“Please don’t let her be obsessed with Die Hard, I will be outnumbered in movie nights!” Amy pouts, “I love you Luna, but please, I’ve heard enough about it to last me a lifetime.”

Amy is smiling at Jake, so he knows she doesn’t mean it. “She’s lying, she loves Die Hard as much as I do now!” His eyes are wide and he’s nodding with a silly grin on his face, “You can love whatever movies you want Luna, we will still love you the same!”

CUT

~

Luna convinces Iggy to let her watch Die Hard while their moms were out on date night.

“I’m all caught up on my homework for the next two weeks and I’ve finished my reading for the night, Iggy, please!” She whines on the couch, “It’s my dad's favourite movie but mom said I can’t watch it yet but I want to!”

“Ugh fine, don’t be such a big nerd about it.” She rolls her eyes before finding the movie on Netflix, “You’re only 14 so if I get in trouble you’re going down.”

“Yeah yeah whatever now be QUIET.” Luna sits on the edge of her seat as the movie begins, her attention devoted entirely to the screen. Two hours later and Luna is on the floor, right in front of the TV and looking gobsmacked. “That. Was. Awesome.”

“It’s not that great.” Iggy puts her book down to laugh at her little sister, “Don’t make me watch the next one please.”

“THERE’S ANOTHER ONE???”

“There are like 5, Loony.”

“THERE’S 5 MOVIES I HAVE SO MUCH TO CATCH UP ON!” Luna grabs the remote and clicks on the next one.

“I’m going to bed, have fun nerd.”

Gina and Rosa come home around 11 to find Luna fast asleep, snoring peacefully as explosions played in the background. “I’m having flashbacks to childhood.” Gina snorts, “I want to be mad that she didn’t listen but she is Jake’s kid.”

“Die Hard is in her blood.” Rosa laughs as she kneels next to Luna, “Hey baby.”

Luna’s eyes flutter open at the feeling of a hand brushing through her curls, but when realising it’s her mom her eyes widened and she sat up quickly. “Heeeeyyyy moms! How was your night? I don’t know what this violent movie is on my screen right now!” Rosa rolls her eyes at her daughter trying to deflect.

“You are so your dad,” Luna blushes and looks at her hands, “And you shouldn’t have watched it without permission but I understand why you did.”

“I’m sorry.” Luna shrugs, “I’ve got Harry Potter to connect with mama and I just wanted to see what dad was so obsessed with.”

“That’s completely understandable.” Gina wraps her up in a side hug, “He probably would have made you watch it much earlier even though it would have been so inappropriate.”

“I like to think Amy might have prevented it for a few years.” Rosa laughs, “She loved Die Hard too, I never heard her admit it out loud.”

“Do you miss them?” Luna asks quietly.

“Constantly. Especially when you make that face when you love something, it’s such an Amy expression and then you behave so much like Jake when you get focused. You’re a giant nerd like the both of them.” Gina tells her, a fond smile on her face.

“I’m always thinking of how they would love the cases I’m getting, and if I struggle I try to think like they would.” Rosa follows, “They’re always with us, especially in you.”

~

“Have you started planning your Quinceañera, my dear?” Camila asks at dinner one evening, months before her 15th birthday.

“Um, I don’t actually want to have one.” Luna frowns slightly, “They’re really backwards and all, and I know it’s a tradition but…”

“Oh…” Camila frowns, “I just thought… Do you want to see Amy’s photos?”

“Camila, if she doesn’t want to do it you need to respect that.” Rosa intervenes.

“No I would love to see the photos.” Luna brightens as her abuela take out a binder full of photos from Amy’s quinceañera. In the photos she can see how similar they look, except her own hair was more wild and curly like her dad. The dress she is wearing has a white sparkly bodice with soft pink tulle.

The photo with her abuelo, who had died when she was only 3 years old, is what she can’t take her eyes off.  It’s during their father daughter dance, and she is beaming at whatever her father seems to be saying. She then closes her eyes, trying to imagine her quinceañera if her parents were still alive. What her father daughter dance might be like with her dad?

Luna says she doesn’t want to have a quinceañera because its old fashioned and lame - but the real reason is so much more. Rosa has been the greatest mother, as has Gina, and the entirety of her parents old squad - but she wants to have her parents there but they can’t . They’re gone forever, no matter how much people tell her they are always inside her.

“I still have her dress in the attic. Amy always told me she wanted her own daughter to wear it to her own quinceañera.” Camila says fondly.

“Really?” Luna has tears in her eyes, and she grips on her abuela’s hand.

“Yes, and I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you to do it. It’s just an open suggestion.”

~

“Here we are, it’s 1:06 in the afternoon. Mom is a solid 7cm dilated and very very excited to get you out of her body!” Jake announces with a grin. He turns the camera around so that it shows Amy on her purple birthing ball. “When I say she’s excited I mean she’s desperate - but it’s the same sentiment.”

“Luna is very welcome to hurry up.” Amy groans, “She’s gonna see this video and think I hate her.”

“Noooo you’re just in pain, Ames. I’m sure our child isn’t a cold hearted snake!”

“I will love her even if she’s a bitch. I will have to reprimand her for it though.”

“Don’t be a bitch, dear Luna. Listen to your mother now!” This time when Amy groans again, Jake doesn’t drop his phone but moves to support her with her face still in frame.

There are tears rolling down her face as the peak of the contraction hits her, and her groan grows louder. She sniffles when it’s over, and Jake gets the both of them in frame again. “See your mom is a total badass. I love her so much.”

Amy grins down at her husband and chastely kisses him, “I love you so much.”

CUT

~

Every birthday they make sure to visit their graves. Since Luna could remember, she has always taken this time to update them on the major events in her life - when she lost her first tooth, her first straight A report card. This time she has her hair and makeup ready to go to her quinceañera but she didn’t get in her dress so that they could make the trip before her big party.

Rosa joins her for the first 10 minutes, but then goes to wait in the car so she can have her moment alone.

Amy Santiago-Peralta                              Jacob Santiago-Peralta

Sept. 17 1983 - Nov. 23 2022              June. 14 1981 - Jan. 1 2023

  Daughter. Wife. Mother.              Son. Husband. Father. Die Hard fanatic.

Luna sits on the grass and takes a deep breath. “Hi.

Sooo, I’m in high school now! So far so good, people aren’t so awful as movies depict it. So far I’m on track for having straight As this semester. Mo-Rosa says you guys would be so proud of that - that I’ve become a giant nerd like you two.

My best friend, her name is Lauren, really likes Die Hard like we do - obsessed with any old action movie really. I always make sure I tell her everything wrong with the way the women are treated and she calls me a nerd but in the way Gina does. So it sounds kind of mean but she has so much heart.

Um, I saw photos of you with bangs mom, so I got bangs. Oof it was a bad idea - but that’s because my hair is too curly I think. I also had my first kiss this year. It was weird, his name was Luke and he was okay but said he wasn’t that interested in me. I’m not too bothered by it but I feel like it’s something you tell your parents. I didn’t tell Rosa or Gina - I felt too uncomfortable.

Um, I miss you. Or the idea of you, since I don’t have any real memory of you. But it sucks that you aren’t here for my quinceañera - but I’m doing it for you mom, I got your dress altered to fit me and it looks great.

R-Rosa said she’s going to do the father daughter dance - because fuck gender roles right? Sorry, Rosa tells me not to swear and I definitely shouldn’t right in front of you. I just want you here.

I need to save my makeup, so I guess that’s it from me for now. But I hope you’re watching tonight, because it would make me really happy to know you’re there.”

Luna doesn’t say anything in the ride to the venue, only a vague nod if when her mom asks if she had a nice chat with them. Before either of them leaves the car, Rosa turns to her and takes her hand. “I’m so proud of you, Luna.” There are tears on her cheeks, and she doesn’t try to hide them. “I love you.”

“I love you mom.” Luna’s chin quivers intensely, but she doesn’t let herself cry - not yet.

She lasts a long without crying - she gets through hugs from her entire family and speeches. But then they announce it’s time for her dance with Rosa, and hear breath becomes shorter. When her mom wraps her arms around her, she can feel herself relax. They don’t have a proper dance ready, they just begin to sway.

We know full well there's just time

So is it wrong to dance this line?

If your heart was full of love

Could you give it up?

It doesn’t take long before her shoulders are quaking and Rosa’s grip tighten, Luna can hear her sniffling as well as the piano takes over.

'Cause what about, what about angels

They will come, they will go and make us special

Don't give me up

Don't give me up

She can hear Rosa audibly crying as much as she is now, and not a moment later she feels her other moms hands wrapping around them. Then it’s uncle Charles, uncle Terry and grandpa Holt. Luna sways with them all, and she’s pretty sure everyone in the room is likely crying but in this moment she feels her parents more than ever.

She manages to look up at Rosa and whisper shakily, “They’re here.”

It's not about, not about angels

Angels

~

“It’s 5:30 in the evening and you have been here in the world for about an hour and a half now. Born at 4:06 to be exact and you weigh in at around 6 pounds and 19 inches long. Your mom is doing great, in pain but she’s such a champion. I will never stop telling you how powerful she is and if you ever disobey her I won’t stop her showing her wrath. Also because I’m terrified of it.”

Jake moves so that Amy and Luna appear in the frame with him, “Look at us - a happy little family!”

Amy’s face quickly scrunches up as she begins to cry. “We have a baby Jake!”

“What did you think you were growing in you for 9 months, Ames?” Jake laughs, joining her on the bed.

“Various fruits and vegetables of course!” She giggles, “I’m just so happy, babe.”

“Me too. I can’t wait to watch her grow up with you.”

Jake kisses her softly, stroking Luna’s head lightly before they both look at the camera like they’re taking a family photo.

END

~

Luna is 17 years old when she finds the video her dad made of the day she was born. She had been working on an entrance essay for college when she got bored and went looking at photos on her moms laptop. She had scrolled until until she saw a folder she had never seen before.

11/23/22

She opens it and sees photos she seen before - photos of her moments after she was born, screaming on her mother’s chest as her mother glows. Photos of her with Jake and photos with her with Amy - and then the both of them beaming as one of them holds her.

What she hasn’t seen before is the the 4 minute and 13 second video. Her heart pounds as her father’s goofy smile appears on screen.

Luna has been to therapy - parents dying hours and months after you are born can have a lasting affect - and she has worked through most of her emotions about not knowing them. She still has her moments of missing them intensely, and that usually falls on holidays or her birthday.

So she doesn’t really expect the flood of tears that break once she hears the line ‘ I will love her even if she’s a bitch. ’ She’s really laughing at her parents being weird but the tears don’t stop falling and her heart truly aches.

Of course she has seen an abundance of videos and photos of her parents of through their partnership, friendship and then relationship before. There was something completely groundbreaking seeing them talk about her and them moving with her there even if for a short time.

The video has been over for a few minutes, paused on them both looking at her with love written in their features. She still can’t stop her tears and it’s then that her mom shows up.

“Alright which little son of a bitch am I fighting?” She growls immediately, protective mode in full force. When she joins Luna on the couch and sees what she has open, she softens. “Talk to me, Luna.”

“I don’t know what to say that I haven’t said before.” Luna hiccups, shaking her head. “I have this moment with them, it’s all I have. I wish I had… a chance to… to have one conversation with them now. I want to hear them say they love me and that they’re proud. Everyone tells me they are but I want to hear it from them.

And you and Gina have been such great moms to me and I feel so bad for wanting them so badly. But I also know I have the right to feel like this and it all just hurts.”

“We would never feel like you don’t appreciate us because you want your parents. We want them back. But that doesn’t change my love for you either.” Rosa grips her hands tightly, “Your parents and you have changed my life like I never expected.”

~

The last thing Luna remembers is falling asleep with Rosa as she told her the best stories of her parents once again. Now she’s in what seems to be a park, surrounded by bright green trees and a lake in the corner. The sun is shining on the lake and she’s in such a deep trance that she doesn’t hear her name being called until there’s a hand on her shoulder and she jumps. Turning around, she stumbles a few steps back at the sight of her mother and her father close by - soft smiles on both their faces.

“Hi Luna.” Amy’s eyes seem to be filling with tears and her voice is cracking with emotion.

“Mom? Dad?” Luna has to take a few deep breaths as she tries to process what was seeing in front of her. “Is this some freaky Harry Potter resurrection stone dream shit?” She finally manages to get out, tears are leaking out of her parents eyes as they laugh.

“Probably.  Ames, this is so cool right? It’s our baby.” Jake gestures at Luna, awe shining off him brighter than the sun.

A sob escapes as she jumps to embrace them and she doesn’t care if she’s dreaming because they feel so real in the moment. “I can’t believe this.”

Their arms are tightly wrapped around her and they spend what feels like eternity just holding each other and crying. “I’m so sorry, mi amor.” Amy pulls back and holds her at arms length to look into her eyes.

“Don’t be sorry! This wasn’t in your control.” Luna shakes her head, “I know you didn’t want to leave me.”

“It doesn’t change how bad we feel that you only got to know us through others.” Jake adds, “We love you so much, and we’ve always been with you.”

“I know that.” Luna nods fiercely, tears continuing to fall like a waterfall.

“We are so proud of the young woman you have become.” Amy tells her.

“Everyone tells me how much I’m like the both of you.” Luna beams, “They all did their part to tell me about you.”

“Did Charles cover the love story? I’d say he’s the best at telling it besides myself.” Jake quips, and she feels so enlightened. It’s everything she wants in a dream.

“He has made sure I know and that my expectations are at an extremely unrealistic level.” She replies, like they’ve joked around her whole life.

“Thank them for us.” Amy requests softly, “Everyone who has helped you - but especially Rosa. It was so much to ask but she raised you with no questions asked and we couldn’t be more thankful for that.”

“She’s been great to me.” Luna agrees, “I might not have had you but I was always loved.”

“A few more things, while we still have time. One; good job on defending us in the Halloween heist. Two; you rocked those bangs girl I don’t care what you say. Three; I’m so proud that you love Die Hard.” Jake is counting on his fingers, and he’s thinking of a fourth when Amy interrupts.

“Also you’ve been so good in school, and you’re so kind to your peers. Luna, we can’t possibly express how proud we are.”

Luna once again buries herself into a hug with the both of them, and they’re all mumbling how much they love each other. It’s warm and she’s never felt a happiness this intense.

The sun grows brighter and brighter until she opens her eyes and she’s back in her home, her head against Rosa’s legs and tears staining her cheeks. They’re gone again but she can still feel their arms and their love surrounding her.

They’re gone again, but she’s okay.

[platinumsupa]

One Shot: The Dragon’s Hoard

A silly little domestic piece of fluff I wrote for some my best friends in the fandom, Undersea-Anchor and All-the-Cliches. (and also, half to break my writer’s block if I’m gonna be brutally honest). I posted this on the discord last night, but I’ve now added a real ending to it, so I decided to post it here too.

Anyway, a future-AU Diakko one shot! 

The Cavendish family has always filled its ranks with adventurers and those looking for something more. Now, it would appear that the newest member of the Cavendish family is playing a daring game with a dragon...

(~2000 words)

~~~

Ami Cavendish ran through the Dragon’s Cavern as fast as her accursedly short legs could carry her. She gripped the Mystic Amulet she had stolen from the Hoard tightly in her young hands. She didn’t quite know where she was going, but she knew that she had to hurry.

She could hear the booming steps of her pursuer right behind her, hunting her down to take back what was hers, and the Witch who stole it along with it.

It was coming too fast for her to outrun for long. Thinking quickly, she hid behind a rock formation, hugging her knees to her chest to make herself smaller. She was not a moment too soon, as seconds after she ducked her head down, the room rumbled under the girth of a monstrous creature.

The Queen of Dragons entered the Cavern, her piercing blue eyes searching for her prey.

“Where did you go, little Ami?” The dragon called out, in an almost teasing voice. “You can’t hide forever, you know. I’m going to get you…”

Ami, despite her age, was a brave adventure, armed with the training and knowledge of her mothers. But even she could not defeat the beast alone. The Queen of Dragons was much too powerful. Her only option was to hide as the Dragon prowled over to an adjacent end of the cavern.

“Could you be…” The dragon suddenly ripped apart a rock formation. “Here? Ah, no. You wouldn’t hide there, would you? Perhaps she has escaped me…”

Ami covered her mouth, desperate not to make a sound as the footsteps approached her hiding position.

“Unless…”

The dragon’s powerful voice was low and menacing as she neared, growing closer with every second.

“…perhaps you might be behind…”

Ami glanced up to see the razor-sharp claws curl around the top of the rock, before it slowly began to pull it away…

~~~

Diana tossed the couch cushion aside, leveling Ami with a wicked grin. “…here!”

Ami scrambled to her feet, but before she could even think about getting away, Diana scooped her daughter into her arms with a thundering, monstrous growl.

The young girl wriggled and writhed to escape from her clutches. Her squirming only grew more frantic when Diana’s fingers started digging into her sides. “N-no! No no! Let me go!”

“I’ve got you now, little Ami.” Diana said, hugging her tighter. “And now the only thing left to do…is to eat you right up!”

Ami shrieked as Diana began nuzzling her face into her short, platinum blonde hair. “Aiiieee! Mama, help! She’s got me!”

Akko heroically dashed into the living room. “Not on my watch, you won’t, dragon! I’ll make sure you let that Great Witch go! Psheew!”

Akko waved her magic staff (in actuality, a random bauble Ami had found rummaging through a junk drawer) and at once, Diana clutched at her chest with a mighty groan. 

The newly freed Ami scampered away to hide behind Akko’s legs. “Mama, we must keep the Amulet away from the Queen of Dragons!” Ami said, pressing the piece of jewelry into Akko’s hands. “It’s the only way to revive the World Tree and save magic as we know it!”

Diana pushed herself up to her knees, briefly breaking character as she did so. “Hold on. Don’t run so fast, you two. You’re going to slip and hurt yourself.”

Akko nodded at their daughter. “Got it! If you can save the day before the Amulet loses its power, you’ll be the greatest witch of all time!” She said. After meeting the look in Diana’s eye, she quickly added, “…but, you know, we can do it a little slower.”

Akko reached over to help her wife up to her feet. Diana smiled, and gratefully took her hand. Almost instinctively, Akko leaned over as Diana pressed quick peck to her cheek.

Ami’s face scrunched up at the display. “…Dragons aren’t supposed to kiss heroes.”

“And what if the dragon truly wishes to give someone a little kiss every now and then?” Diana challenged, not relinquishing Akko’s hand from her own.

Ami wasn’t entirely sure how to argue against that, but from the look on her face, she clearly didn’t agree.  “…But she’s a Great Witch too, Mother.” She eventually decided. “We’re supposed to be defeating the dragons to save all of magic. It doesn’t make any sense for them to kiss.”

“Oh…” Akko realized. “…oh no…”

Ami’s eyes widened. “What?”

“The dragon queen! She’s…she’s using her mind powers to…hypnotize me!”

“What?”

“It’s too late for me!” Akko cried. “Save yourself, Ami! She’s got me! I’m…I’m falling to the dark side…!”

With a breathless gasp, Akko dramatically fell backwards into Diana’s arms as she pretended to daintily faint away.

Diana arched a brow at the woman now draped across her torso. “And what precisely do you think you’re doing?”

“It’s called improv, Di, you gotta keep up.” Akko waggled her brows. “Besides, if I’m on the dark side, I get to do this.”

She pushed herself upward until her lips met Diana’s. Akko grinned ear to ear as she pulled away. Diana fondly shook her head.

“You’re cute, darling.”

“Adorable.” Akko agreed. Diana snorted.

Their daughter, meanwhile, was completely indignant. “The dragon doesn’t have mind powers!” Ami insisted.

“But it would seem she does now, doesn’t it?” Diana said, narrowing her eyes dangerously. “And now, with that kiss, your Mama is under my wicked spell. How will you ever find the right magical hex to break her free?”

In response, Akko fell from Diana’s arms and to her knees. “Urgh, I’m changing…” She slowly trudged her way over to her daughter. “You need to get away, Ami…because I’m…I’m…”

Akko made a sudden grab at Ami, just barely (and deliberately) missing her entirely.

“I’m gonna getcha!”

Ami turned on her heels and ran, a surprised laugh escaping her lips. Akko was hot on her heels, tickling at the girl’s sides whenever she could get her hands within reach. The two of them dashed from one corner of the living room to the other.

Diana ended up giggling through her attempts at a reprimand. “A-Akko, for goodness sake!”

“You can’t team up!” Ami cried as she ducked under another grab. “I should be a dragon too now! You’re not allowed to team up anymore! Mother, help!”

“You better run!” Akko grinned. “I’m gonna get you! I’m gonna-!”

And it was right in that moment that Anna, the head maid, decided to walk into the living room, with a tray full of snacks. Akko barely managed to avoid colliding into her, largely from years’ worth of experience doing exactly that.

Ami was not quite so lucky.

“Good heavens!” Anna gasped. The tray fell from her hands, and clattered to the ground, sending her snacks all over the living room floor.

The three members of the Cavendish family collectively froze.  

“Ahaha…” Akko met the glare being sent her way, and winced. “Um…sorry?”

Anna planted her hands on her hips in an especially unamused manner. “Lady Diana. I thought you brought home one child, not three.”

Diana coughed into her fist. “M-my apologies, Anna. Here, don’t trouble yourself. I’ll clean it up. It was my fault.”

As Diana quickly went to work to clean up the mess their game had made, she gave Ami a soft tap on her back, and the kind of significant look a child understood from their parent almost immediately. The little girl folded her hands in front of her dress and shyly approached Anna.

“I’m very sorry, Miss Anna.” Ami said. “It was an accident. It won’t happen again.”

Anna snorted. “I’ve certainly heard that before.”

Ami bowed deeply, visibly worried that she truly hurt the woman’s feelings this time. “I’m very very sorry! We were just playing a game, I didn’t mean to make a mess. Please don’t be mad?”

Anna gave her a skeptical look for a moment, before bending down to her level, signaling her to get closer so she could whisper into her ear.

“…You had better take this, then.” Anna discreetly handed her the key to the Manor’s library. “It will let you enter the magic realm. I’ll hold off your pursuers for as long as I can until then.”

Ami nodded solemnly. “I won’t forget what you’ve done here today, Miss Anna.”

“And don’t leave the…! Ah, magic tomes…all over the floor this time!” Anna called out to Ami’s rapidly retreating form. With that, Anna was left to be sacrificed to the ferocious dragons.

Diana picked up the last remnants of food and placed them on the tray to be washed up. “Are you alright, Anna?”

“Of course.” Anna nodded. “…though I must admit, sometimes I’m a little unprepared for how lively this house is these days.”

“I can certainly agree. All the years we’ve lived here…I never quite realized how overdue this old house was for some happy memories…”

Diana’s thoughts traveled back in time as her eyes wandered across the room, from the aged antiques that had been here since the day she was born, and all the new additions and touch-ups that had been added in her adult life.

The Manor truly wasn’t the same place anymore.

Akko sheepishly rubbed at the back of her neck. “Guess I should’ve slowed down like you said, huh? My bad. I just got a bit too into the game, is all.”

“Don’t apologize.” Diana shook her head. “She’s having a good time. That’s the important thing.”

“Hee, maybe one day she’ll grow up and we’ll all get to go up against real dragons together. How would that be for some quality family time?”

“Oh, stop.” Diana waved her hand. “I don’t think I’m ready to imagine her growing up yet. She’s just so curious, and full of energy…she gets that from you, you know. Sometimes, I wish these days could just last forever.”

Akko blinked. “Diana…? Is everything alright?”

Diana grinned. “Alright? I used to wonder what kind of life my mother imagined for me when I was Ami’s age. But now I’ve got a beautiful daughter of my own. I married the best friend I ever had. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so blessed.”

“You still get really sappy sometimes, huh?” Akko teased.

Diana snaked her arms around her wife’s shoulders, and pulled her closer. “I have everything I could ever want under one roof. Can you really blame me…?”

The kiss Diana gifted to Akko was filled with the kind of gratefulness mere words couldn’t express. Akko was not the spouse Diana’s ancestors had pictured for her. But instead, she was so much greater. Diana could spend a lifetime searching for just the right way to thank her for all the joy she had brought into her life.

And she intended to do exactly that. Their lips parted, and Diana caught the flicker of light glinting off of Akko’s wedding ring.

Akko, a little more red-faced and misty eyed than she likely realized, opened her mouth to say something sweet in return, but spotted something out of the corner of her eye.

“…I don’t think dragons are supposed to kiss heroes though. Or that’s what I heard, at least.”

Diana looked over. Ami was sticking her head around the corner of the hallway, spying on what the two of them were doing instead of finishing their game with her.

“Hmm…” Diana absently called out. “It seems my…dragon…nose…still smells an intruder. Where could she be hiding this time?”

Ami quickly ducked her head out of sight. The pitter-pattering sound of feet running down the hallway was all it took for Diana’s smile to spread even wider across her face.

“Dragon nose.”

“Don’t you mock me, Atsuko.”

“I’m just saying! You just gotta work on your improv skills!”

“Then perhaps I should keep practicing. I believe we gave her enough of a head start.” Diana turned to her wife, and gestured down the hall of the Manor. “Let’s go find our daughter then, shall we?”

[chasekimberly1994]

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[polystumbles]

Diary 8/21/2016: The Past, Perfect, Tense

So much happening. The aftermath of my Mom’s intervention. Processing nearly breaking up with Z after her parents’ visit (which is really the first time in a while I process such a thing with Amy). Duane and Z have a late evening. Z and I find a way to process that as well. Z finds incredible words with which to say I love you in her own language. 

Sunday in the early AM, Amy and I took my little brother and his family to the airport they're off to a week-long vacation. We get home and I'm wide awake while Amy wants to nap. So I send the time looking for some rugs for my mother's apartment. I'm trying to treat this like she lost everything to a fire. Only, she didn't lose everything to a fire, she lost everything to hoarding. Still the net effect is the same. Yesterday we had the family intervention and after some tense moments she agreed to go to therapy. I'm going to go with her even though my therapy schedule is getting pretty full. I’ll go at least until she decides that it's going well, and she wants to go on her own.

We spent the rest of the day together took her to drop the kids off and Long Island had some tense moments there as well she almost cried when she saw a record player in the same model that she had. I tried to tell her that hers was broken but soon I realized that there's no point. She's grieving. The lost of stuff is intense. And she has agreed to inspections and therapy, what more could I ask for.

I got home dropped off my mom and sat at table sipping some water. I told her about my conversation with Z. I told her that I felt fine. Even if of course there's a risk. Mostly I told her about our process --about how she had been in taking her time and how we have been talking and how where she didn't feel like communicating. I told her to that the one thing that had changed:I was feeling a bit insecure not so much because of Duane but actually because of the situation with her parents. I feel the call to date again, mostly like I don’t want to know how I’d deal with losing our relationship. Perhaps it's about remembering what it's like to have that new date feeling or just confirming that I'm still a complete freak.

But also I talked with Amy about switching our frame of reference, Z and I, bringing up the invisibilia podcast episode that she and I had just listened to separately. Maybe Z will gain more perspective. A deeper appreciation of what I know: for people like us love is rare. I talk to about our dynamic, Amy and I, and whether we were ready to date someone together again. Or maybe re-visit some of the sexually adventurous spaces that Amy likes. I'm not a casual person but I also wouldn't mind a Poly-comet with the occasional fly by. Or perhaps we should date a couple together? Our dynamic has been adventurous, and if we can't really stand to lose more time from each other perhaps the best thing to do is to find people together. Perhaps thats what we were always doing, perhaps Amy was always just game for anything but safer within my limits.

Sunday morning as Amy laid in bed, and she fell asleep again, I thought about what makes me feel this way right now. Do I need new adventures? No. Not really. I think it’s two fold. In part, I think it’s about the feelings around what loosing Z could mean to my relationship to Amy. Z brings balance. For example, Amy and I had gone the entire week having sex recently, while Z and I probably had 10+ orgasms with Z in that same stretch. I can't avoid the emotional devastation that Z leaving or pulling back would cause, but I can do something about the sexual implications. In keeping with my life philosophy, if it’s far out of my control, I won’t worry about something until it’s a reality. But I can have distracting adventures, I can build a network of people who would nurse me through it. Whereas right now that falls on Amy alone. She'll keep up for a week or two, but she will always return to her natural rhythm.

Sunday coordination with Z did not start off well.  I had emailed her early about the Indian day parade and she didn't get back to me until 11 and with an “I'm leaving, if you want to come” type message. I wasn't sure what had happened at all. Why was she inviting me in this odd way? Was she really inviting me to join?  Does she really want me to come? Maybe she wants to ride down by herself, Maybe Duane slept over and she needed space and time to process, but still wanted to go to this event? She said she might need some more time to herself.. was she in a bind because of a possible rainout tonight? I made the extra effort to catch up with her and ride with her.

When I do reach her, she says she waited some extra time for me on the platform. She had reached out to her friends, but  no one had wanted to join.  So it was go with me or alone. (What does that even mean?) We’re almost then entire quiet ride down, which isn’t that rare, we’re pretty comfortable with our quiet. The parade itself this year was slow, and we get to talk photography and lighting. She’s working on mastering a 50mm portrait lens and hasn’t got the knack for how it behaves yet. We head out grab some Tea, where the lady behind the counter seems to enjoy our conversation enough to give us both a free cup, for a single free cup coupon. Her mood lightens with the cup of tea. I smile knowing that I’ve got a Tea service event that I’m plotting for the fall.

On the way home we stop for groceries, and then keep riding home. She takes out a book to read and I lay my head on her shoulder where I must have hit the sleep button, because soon she is asleep first. We sleep about 3/4ths of the way home. She says she she’s tired because Duane was over until about 2AM. I ask how come he didn’t just sleep over? Turns out he has dogs and had to work on Sunday. I figure then that she was telling me indirectly that they had had sex. I check how I feel, and I’m fine, if disappointed that she wasn’t happier in the AM, even if now I know why she was tired. But I’m sure she is processing things, so everything awkward has a reason at least. As usual a nap, and some time with me, does wonders for her disposition.

We get in and put away the groceries. As she heads into the bedroom to get comfortable, I grab her with plans to get reconnecting immediately out of the way. I pull her too me, kiss and grope what I can of her body. I throw her face down on the edge of the bed, pull her hips out and spank her. I spank her again for being naughty. I spank her for having another man over at our place until 2 in the morning. I pull her up, grab some rope. It takes me too long to get the Texas Handcuffs and double column tie with lashing done (damn I need practice), talking dirty the whole time. Now tied I interrogate her, and she is playing feisty the whole time.

I’m not naughty. 

If you’re not naughty then what’s naughty?

This whole relationship is naughty.

Yes.

Maybe that’s what you like?

Maybe.

Did you enjoy fucking another man?

We didn’t have sex.

What? Part of me feels silly at the unnecessary build up, and the angst. Part of me is all whatever--naked beautiful lady in front of you. The latter part wins. I make myself too busy in the moment to ponder the statement.

I’m getting more naked by the second as I bring her down to my cock. I’m not hard, oddly. So I’ll have her suck my cock until I am. I finally untie her hands, and again, instant noodle. I kiss her for a minute, but I finally give up. If I’m honest, there are too many emotions flying right now. Her and Duane is the major part now, but this week was draining. These past few weeks a sine curve.

The place where my mind went, was to our first time making love, also after a parade. I’m holding her and recount the details that I remember. She pitches in hers too. The conversation. The smell. The no. The cuddle. The gentle “ok” she gave me to continue. She talks about meeting me the first time. The “Oh” moment of seeing me. How if she could talk to herself back then, what might she say, how she might savor the moment more, and say to herself, “this man is your future”. I recall our first conversation. The first time I put my hand on the small of her back after tea. Asking permission to just that slight touch. The known artifacts in my recollection. I remember her eyes but not her dress. Her hair but not her earrings. I cry at these memories, at what they mean to the each of us. The joy of who we have become since then, and all the little harbingers of who we were to become that we subconsciously honored, but were unaware of at the time.

I need to make love to her. Even if the emotions are so deep right now. I stroke myself to recover, and we make love, if only to remember that we can.

[ronyxfic]

Educating the Victim  - Act IV, Chapter XI

Pairing: Pearl/Rose Quartz, Rose Quartz/Greg

Rating: Teens and up

Warnings/Tags: none for this chapter

Read it on AO3!

Educating the Victim Masterpost

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CHAPTER 11: Perfect

It was finally the day. Pearl had been confirmed at her recovery weight. All checks clear. All tests the healthiest they could be.

Her parents had been told to show up at two in the afternoon to pick her up. She waited with her nurse at the discharge. The time was already quarter past four, and the sky was beginning to grow dark. Even the nurse was beginning to grow uneasy. "I'm sure we've called them a few times..."

Pearl could only sit there in her sinking shame. Perhaps she could call Aurora to come and get her but... her pride and hatred for her sister kept that at a big no. And calling Amy would result in the same shit.

She was an adult. She should have been able to do it herself.

She could.

She found her phone. As the nurse was glancing away, she pretended to pick the phone up. "Mom!" She and the nurse exchanged hopeful looks. "Oh my gosh, what do you mean there's been an accident? You've called me a taxi? Why didn't you just say so? Outside? Okay, I got it." She gave the nurse a dismissive handwave and hobbled outside before another word could be given edgeways. She could see herself being watched by the staff and immediately tiptoed down to the taxi pool, rummaging for her wallet. Not much money remained.

Could she even go home? She wondered as she pushed herself into a black cab. Facing her parents again would be awful. She looked down.

"Where are we going?" The man behind the wheel was tall, heavy set, with dark features. There seemed to be a determined amount of kindness in his eyes. Pearl glanced up and spied the tag on his dashboard that informed her that his name was Ian.

She looked outside for a brief moment, and honestly paused. Where could she go?

She clenched her fist and gave the driver Rose's address.

Rose was getting ready for school to start again. Term was only a few days away, and she had been preparing lessons and tests ever since the new year started. It helped in distracting her from what was to come.

She wasn't looking forward to it. At all.

She was also trying very hard not to think about Pearl. Pearl, who she'd had that conversation with... who hadn't called again since.

Rose worried.

Greg had noticed her getting more and more tense, and there was nothing he could do. Rose felt a little sorry for him. But he couldn't help. This was something she had to go through by herself.

She looked up. The sky was dark - it was getting late. A heavy sigh. Another day passed; another day closer to the beginning of term.

The taxi deposited her outside of the area. Pearl swallowed. Could she even face Rose after... all this.

She forced herself to smile, which Ian the taxi driver seemed to heavily pick up on. "Hey," he said, taking the change and providing a card. "You stay safe. Call me if you ever need me for an emergency."

Pearl blinked. Perhaps this season just brought out kindness. But there was something genuine behind those glasses. She nodded and watched the taxi drive away.

Slowly, she paced the walk up to Rose's. At that point she realised Rose might not even be home. She could walk home from here, but... she didn't necessarily want to.

She heard a dog bark. It frightened her a little. But it seemed to be locked into the fenced area beside Rose's home. Trembling, she placed a finger on the doorbell.

The doorbell rang. Rose started momentarily, then got up. Who could it possibly be -?

Lion was barking, trotting towards the door behind Rose. Rose patted his head absent-mindedly before opening the door.

For a long moment, the world stood still.

"Who is it, love?" Greg called from upstairs. Rose didn't answer. She took a few moments. Her heart was beating very quickly.

"Pearl," she then said, quietly. "I... wasn't expecting you. Do you... want to come in?"

Greg was coming down the stairs now. Something clicked as Rose remembered he existed.

"This is Greg," she said. "Greg, this is Pearl. I've... told you about her?" She then leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek and whispered, "Could you give us a little time alone, please?"

Pearl watched. She just watched. She felt punched as she watched Rose press those soft lips against the strange man. As she watched Greg go, she felt herself shake. "I can... I can go, if you want me to."

"No, no, not at all!" Rose felt her cheeks warming.

Greg cast her a smile. "I'll take the van out for a spin," he said. "I'll be back later." And then he was off, the door closing behind him.

And then, Rose and Pearl were alone.

Rose took a deep breath, then came in and pulled Pearl into a hug.

"Are you okay?" she said. "Are you out now? I've been worried about you."

"I'm here, aren't I?" Pearl shrugged. She watched Greg leave and looked at Rose. "Who... was that?" A stupid question. She'd just been told. She wanted to go away. Of course Rose would have moved on. Of course.

She was just that unloveable.

"Greg. My boyfriend. I told you about him on the phone, didn't I?" Rose could see on Pearl's face that... this wasn't good. And a silly, irrational part of her wanted to tell Pearl that she'd been there first. She was just as important as Greg.

"Do you want anything? Tea, coffee? I think I might have some Christmas cookies left over."

"Oh. Yeah. Yeah." Of course. Pearl had been too preoccupied to remember. "No. I think... I should probably go home."

"Please, no. Stay, please. I wanted to talk to you. I'm glad I'm getting this opportunity now, away from..." Principal Diamond. Watchful eyes. "School," Rose finished.

Pearl paused, taking her coat off. Her expression was curious, cracked lips parted. "Aurora told me about the principal." Before the fight.

"Yes, indeed." Rose frowned. "I'm... so sorry, Pearl. About everything." She watched Pearl. "You look much better," she observed.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Pearl’s voice became abrasive. "I felt so abandoned, like it was all my fault. I could have killed myself over it. All you had to do was tell me the fucking truth."

Rose frowned. Did not show Pearl how deeply her words hurt. "Did you come here to chastise me, Pearl?" she asked, her voice soft. Only trembling a little. She was determined not to lose control again, not in front of Pearl.

"I came here because I have nowhere else. But, again, I can leave."

Rose swallowed. Did not reply, did not argue.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?" she then asked. "I have plenty, and you need to take care of yourself just now."

"I came here for answers, too." Pearl ignored Rose, and stared her down. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Rose avoided Pearl's steely gaze.

"I wanted to protect you," she said softly. "It was wrong. I made the wrong choice. I'm sorry."

Pearl looked at the ground. Hurt. "Protect me," she repeated. "I got the impression you hated me. And I think I understand. I think I get it." She seemed utterly numb. "It's okay if you don't want to have me around. If that makes you happier, I'll let it be. I love you." Her voice shook. Breathing heavier. "So whatever makes you happy, I'll gladly let be."

It broke her heart. It broke her.

And all of her resolve to stay calm and collected and in control crumbled. Tears stung in her eyes.

"No, Pearl," she said, "no, that's not it at all -" She reached out, touched Pearl's cheek. Her heart aflame. She blinked, her tears getting caught in her eyelashes. "I don't want you to leave."

Pearl flushed at the touch at her cheek. Drinking into the sensation as if she'd been stuck on a desert for the past month. "But I'm just causing you trouble. I'm in love with you. I love you. I'm just a student to you, Miss. And I need to learn to be okay with that. The fact that you have a life outside of school. That you have a..." She indicated to the door. "Boyfriend. And I need to learn that I'm not a part of that life, no matter how much I want to be."

Rose closed her eyes.

"You misunderstand," she said softly. "Greg isn't my boyfriend. He is one of my partners. I have a boyfriend, yes, but that doesn't stop me from seeing other people. Or, indeed..." She opened her eyes again. Looked directly at Pearl. "Having feelings for other people."

Pearl paused and then shrugged. "Doesn't matter either way. I just need to stop obsessing over you when it's not something you owe me, nor something that's actually ever going to happen to me. I mean, let's be real. Who on Earth would ever have feelings for a... someone like me?"

Rose paused. Her heart beating loudly, forcefully, like it was trying to come out of her chest.

"You really don't give yourself enough credit." The words were soft.

Pearl could only roll her eyes. Hugging her knees.

Rose felt her heart break yet again. She wanted to... she wanted to tell Pearl she loved her. She wanted to kiss her.

She couldn't.

"Pearl..."

She reached out again. Touched Pearl, again. She couldn't help it.

For the first time ever, Pearl jerked back. She shot a look up at Rose. Pained. "Stop it. You're only gong to make it worse. That's the way I want you to touch me every morning, Miss. I need to stop fantasising about waking up next to you."

Rose withdrew like she'd been burned. Couldn't hold back her tears anymore. She turned away, hid her face from Pearl. She didn't want Pearl to see her like this.

Pearl glanced up, she saw Rose turn. Her voice dropped. Scared. "Miss? Miss, I'm so sorry. Oh God. Miss... I shouldn't..."

It made it worse. Rose wished Pearl would call her by her first name, just once more. Every 'Miss' drove them further apart.

"I can't even touch you." Her voice trembled audibly. "You're in my house and we're alone and even now, I can't even touch you." She was losing control badly. She shouldn't. Pearl was her student. Her student.

"For fuck's sakes-" Pearl dug her hands in her hair. "I'd rather you do a lot more than touch me, but we both know you are never going to love me in that way. You're never going to actually care. And that's alright. I'm fine with you stringing me along and manipulating me for things if that makes you feel better. I love you enough to accept that from you. It might not be healthy but... I just want you."

Rose tried to pull herself together. Found that breathing was hard.

"Is that really what you think, Pearl?" she said, her voice thick with tears. "That I'm just... manipulating you, that I don't care about you at all?" I'm her teacher... and here she is, in my house, watching me cry over her like a teenage girl. I really haven't learned anything.

Pearl gave the saddest of smiles. "You know, as a manipulator myself, I honestly couldn't care less. I love you, Rose Quartz. It doesn't matter how you feel."

Rose looked at Pearl. The seconds stretched. Her heart was beating loudly.

To hell with it.

Diamond already hated Rose. There was no way she could be making this situation worse, exactly. The only one who really mattered just now was Pearl.

Her hand found Pearl's face again. Cupped her face gently, fingers dipping into Pearl's short hair. She leaned in. Barely hesitated before pressing her lips against Pearl's.

Pearl had expected to be kicked out. Told to go home. Stop pining. Stop hoping.

She felt as if every piece of her had turned into static, and the buzzing of said static had gone into overdrive. Her cheeks were hot coals. Rose's kiss was overwhelming to the point it took her a few seconds to actually reciprocate. Her lips were plump and tasted sweet - sugar. Something baked. Pearl's hands were eager to hold but she couldn't. She needed to respect. And she somehow managed to combat her desire to touch everything into softly pressing them against that midsection.

Rose barely gave Pearl the opportunity to kiss her back before pulling away. Her breathing was fast, her cheeks burning.

"I'm... sorry." She looked away. But she was still holding Pearl, holding her close, as if she was scared of ever letting go of her again.

"I shouldn't have."

Her actions spoke louder than her words. Fingers gently caressing Pearl's cheek, her hair. She wanted to kiss her again. She wanted to kiss her a million times.

Pearl read into the touches far more. It was what she'd been doing for months. She couldn't tear away from those dark eyes. "I love you," she repeated. "I love you." It was as if there was nothing more she could say. No other words.

And despite everything, Rose just leant back in and kissed her again.

She couldn't, couldn't admit to Pearl that she loved her too. She couldn't. Too much was at stake.

She shouldn't be doing this.

And Pearl could only melt. Everything just felt so... correct. So wonderful. So delicious. As if she was drunk but still sober. Stable but unstable. That goldilocks medium. That perfection.

Rose let the kiss drag out.

But eventually, she had to pull away. Her heart was beating. She was out of breath as if she'd just run a mile.

"Pearl..." she said. She was still holding her. Unwilling to let go. She didn't know what to say.

Pearl's hands still touched at Rose's sides. They were gently there, still afraid. But still there.

"I thought... you didn't..." she began. Eyes searching Rose's face for answers that even Rose probably had no idea of.

Rose swallowed. She wished Pearl was less scared.

She wished she was less scared herself.

"I..." Words did not come easily. "I... like you," she eventually managed. "A lot more... than I should."

It was a massive understatement, and now Pearl knew. Rose had kissed her. Was still holding her like she was the most precious thing on earth.

Pearl's laugh was nervous. "Why would you ever like someone like me? You're everything and I... I'm nothing."

Now it was Rose's turn to give her a sad smile. "Like I said," she said, "you really don't give yourself enough credit."

"I guess I don't." Pearl swallowed, and then began to giggle. "This is insane. I don't... ever want you to regret this."

Rose gave a low chuckle. "Give it a few days. Hours." She shrugged. "I... Pearl, I'm so sorry. About everything. You came here for answers, and instead you got... well. I suppose you don't think I should be sorry for this." She tried a half-hearted smile.

"Somehow, I think I'll be okay." Pearl hugged her again.

Rose smiled and ran her hands through Pearl's hair. Touched her cheeks. It felt so good to just be able to touch her. All of the tension had seeped out of her. She felt... okay. For the first time in weeks, she was okay.

"Diamond is watching me. I'll have to keep my distance when school starts again," she said softly. "But I don't ever want you to forget this, okay?" She rubbed her thumb over Pearl's cheek.

Pearl nodded. She finally understood. "We can still..." A thought came to her. "But what about him?" She glanced at the door.

"Greg?" Rose almost laughed. "I told you... or maybe I didn't. I'm polyamorous. I can have more than one partner. And feelings for more than one person. I would've thought you of all people... I mean... you like Amethyst, don't you?"

Pearl blinked. As if her head had just somewhat exploded. "Yes. Y-Yes, I do, but... she doesn't... like me, I don't think. Not like that."

"You could be wrong about that," Rose said. "The important thing is to be honest. Greg knows about you. You... we... we're not dating," she paused for a moment. "You're still my student. But... I want to spend time with you. More than just... what we've been spending together. I don't know how realistic that is..." She fell silent. She shouldn't. But she loved Pearl. She loved her.

"We could... we could still try. If this is all mutual, we can't let someone else stop it. I'm an adult. It would be different if I was underage." Pearl hesitated. "Can I call you Rose?"

Rose nodded. "Please," she said, and impulsively leaned in to kiss Pearl again.

"We'll work it out, okay?" she said, touching Pearl's hair again. "We'll figure this out. It'll be okay."

Pearl smiled at the kiss. Truly happy for the first time in months. Aglow.

"I love you, Rose," she said, again. "I love you so much."

END OF ACT 4

> Act V, Chapter I

[argotmagazine-blog]

Music Is a Miracle

When I hear a song I can travel back in time to a specific place. Sometimes I travel back feeling tender and sore. Other times I arrive and feel all the freedom and glory of being four years old again. I’ve gathered some songs here that have the time machine magic ability to send me reeling back to specific memories. This mixed cd essay provides a snapshot into periods of my life where major and minor events happened on a scale from joy and love to violence, depression and confusion. When I hear any of these songs I can remember the textures and tones of what I was wearing, or what conversations were being had above my head, or how I felt at the time hearing the song.

1. Don’t Stop the Music, Yarbrough & Peoples (23 years old, San Francisco, CA) When I show up to my somatic therapy session and the two chairs that usually face each other are nowhere in sight, my stomach almost falls out of my butt. My therapist asks me to play a song on the small iPod speaker so that we can move around to it during the session and I choose “Don’t Stop the Music.” I turn my back to her and sob the entire time it plays, full to the brim with anger at her (even though she told me we would begin to transition to embodiment/movement in our sessions). I was also ready to punch myself in the face out of anger and disgust because I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t dance while someone else watched. It was the beginning of my journey to understanding the shame I carry in my body and the trigger of being watched. Later that year, I am confronted with the question, what if you never remember what happened to you? Then I understand I need to begin with being at peace with the fact (the absolute blessing and absolute curse) that I might not ever remember exactly who harmed me, when, or how often. My body remembers, and that has to be enough to begin the process of healing.

2. Paper Planes, M.I.A. (18 years old, New York, NY) I am dancing on top of a bar in an old brownstone on 114th St. between Amsterdam & Broadway in what is formerly known as Harlem and currently colonized as Columbia University. I am a freshman in college and it’s Fall semester. I often overhear people I consider to be kids (like me) talking about drycleaning and credit limits and other things I didn’t have access to on the elevator of my freshman dorm. It is probably my second or third time being drunk in my life. The party is beach-themed and there is real sand on the floor of the brownstone occupied by a white fraternity. There is “jungle juice” being squirted out of super soakers at people as they dance. As soon as I hear Paper Planes starting up with it’s repetitive electric guitar riff, I dart from my group of 15th floor friends dancing in a circle and demand someone help hoist me onto the bar. I’m dancing to the song when the police come into the house to break up the party. It’s the most nonviolent I’ve ever seen police in my life.

3. House Every Weekend, David Zowie (24 years old, London, England) I am in Camden Town at a dark bar. Everyone’s drinking something called a ‘Stevie Wonder.’  It comes in a squat round glass with a brown sugar cube balanced in the middle by a long toothpick, served with the sugar cube set on fire. Some dude with a bald head and a gold tooth in the front (not Slick Rick) wears a brown leather jacket with shearling wool around the collar. He seems to be friends with everyone. I never figure out if he works for the club or if he’s a dope dealer. This is my second time traveling alone and my first trip ever to London. I chill on a couch with the bald dude with his gold tooth and some of his friends; they are girls my age and one guy who is a muscle meatball. All of them are messily drunk and predictably simple in the way they talk to each other about themselves and other people. I assess they are not smart enough to be a danger to me. They invite me to an after hours party and I ride in a cab with them; we pass Big Ben and the London Eye to get there. They are playing House Every Weekend when we walk into the club. It’s probably my sixth time hearing it that night between the two clubs. After two hours of declining the flirtatious advances of the bald head, I go to the bathroom and return to find that the group of people I came with are gone. I grab my coat from coat check and go outside. I see the sun rising and the group of them negotiating with a cab driver. Bald head looks mortified as I approach. I give him a good old fashioned Black American cuss out for trying to abandon me and shake him down for cab fare. He comes up with the money. I ride back to my hostel alone in my own cab, satisfied with myself that I’m safe and alone. I’m fucking proud of not taking anybody’s shit—not in America, and damn sure not in London. I wake up the next afternoon hungover to someone blasting Back to Black by Amy Winehouse. It’s her birthday.

4. Silly Love Songs, Disco Duck Dance Party (5 years old, San Francisco, CA) I am little, (maybe in kindergarten, maybe younger) dancing in the daycare at my Nana’s house. It’s my turn to choose a record on the record player and I choose the Disco Duck Dance Party sleeve with the two yellow ducks with blonde wigs dancing on the cover. When Silly Love Songs comes on, I grab arms with another small person and we spin and we spin and we spin on the carpet. The carpet has a gray roads pattern on it that is great for playing on with tiny toy cars. I pull the bottom of my shirt low and flip it over the top of the neckline to make a crop top like a hoochie mama with my belly out. It’s okay, it’s fun, it’s funny, and we all do it. Our round pale and ashy bellies under ribs showing and we can’t stop laughing at ourselves, at each other.

5. The Good Life, Kanye West ft. T-Pain (16 years old, Aguacate, southeast of Tatumbla, Honduras) I am sixteen, going on seventeen. I am in Honduras for the summer living in a homestay and volunteering with a program called Amigos de las Americas. The program is made up of primarily rich white kids who enroll to volunteer so they can write in their college application essays that ‘they helped’ and ‘learned so much about life from poor people’. It’s the summer people touch my hair and it’s affirmed that I’m Black in a way that doesn’t feel good. It’s the summer the entire village laughs at me because I say I’m from the United States. They laugh because they assure me that there are no Black people in the United States and they think I’m out of my mind when I tell them that later that year there will, hopefully, be a Black president elected to office. I leave in late summer and never learn what they think of Barack Obama. One night in my cot as I lay suffering and scratching from scabies on my way to sleep, a rat skids underneath my already low to the ground cot. I nearly lose my shit as I’m quietly listening to my walkman play Kanye and T-Pain’s The Good Life. The walkman breaks on the floor in my shock and stays broken for the larger part of the trip. I am so happy to see my Black family when I get home. When it is time to write my personal statement for my college application, I am advised by college counselors and mentors to choose between writing about my incarcerated parent or my schizophrenic parent. Guess I didn’t need to go to Honduras after all.

6. A Rose Is Still A Rose, Aretha Franklin (7 years old, San Francisco, CA) I learn intuition by being sensitive to the pitches, tones, scents, and temperatures of our house. We get bars on our windows. The fish dies. Again. Our neighbors are a nuisance. We seem to have to share everything with them. Consequently, we know about their stealing geese from Golden Gate Park and eating them for a celebration one year because we see them two-to-a-bag waddling in our shared backyard. Carrots and peas come up through our tub drain from the pipes we share. My mother tells us to bang on the walls with her high-heeled shoes when they sing Vietnamese karaoke too late into the night for our liking. I know my mother’s every scent. She does my hair in ways I don’t like, but she tries. I’ve already begun losing hair on either side of my temples. A Rose is Still A Rose is a precursor for my mother breaking glasses or me sneaking white wine out of the box in the refrigerator by putting my head under the spout. It’s a wonder how the wine makes my chest feel hot even though it’s cold. A Rose is Still A Rose plays and my mother is having a Tupperware party with a sweet Filipina saleswoman on our black couch with the seemingly spray-painted teal and magenta colors across it. A Rose is Still a Rose is on and I’m in first grade memorizing my crush’s phone number from his emergency card. I go home to call it and hang up, call it and hang up, call it and hang up. Until his mother calls our house back via *69 and I am completely mortified when I pick up.

7. One More Time, Daft Punk (6 years old, Concord, CA) I am wearing a pink (or is it strawberry?) one-piece swimsuit at Waterworld. The water slides  loom high above me. There is music playing on the loudspeaker throughout the water park. The station playing is Wild 94.9, the song is One More Time and it’s sung by robots. I’ve never heard anything like it. I am clear that this is not our music—music from our house, from our family. I’m becoming aware that our house and our music might be different than the outside world. I am curious about whose house this music belongs to. I’m curious about who this sounds like home to. I’m curious if there is an entire other world of music made by robots or other human beings that has existed outside of my knowledge. I go to sit down in my hot plastic lounge chair and flinch from the burn. Instead I choose to stand beside it and step my foot to the quick rhythm as I dry off.

8. Dontcha, The Internet (22 years old, Oakland, CA) I’m in the toothpaste aisle at Safeway on an errand for my family when she tells me she ‘loves me loves me’ over the phone. I feel like there are colors flying off of my back in the wind like Pocahontas, I’m so damn happy. I’m living at my family’s house on a couch less than a year out of college and I feel pathetic when the flirtationship ends, because I don’t even have my own bed to have a good teenage girl cry in. I cry in my car while listening to Dontcha often. Until less than a month later, my car gets broken into because I accidentally leave a nearly empty backpack peeking from under the backseat. The backpack contains my one pair of prescription glasses, a good pair of earrings, and an old letter from my flirtmate written before we parted ways. The letter had both of our names and addresses on it—it was a love note containing a fictional lesbian erotica scene starring the two of us.

12. Ain’t Too Proud to Beg, The Temptations (4 years old, San Francisco, CA) I have a small microphone in my hand that has a metal coil in it that vibrates and echoes my voice when I sing into it. My grandpa teaches me Ain’t Too Proud to Beg and the two of us take turns singing it into the microphone. He loves the way I sing “sim-puh-tee” not knowing the word ‘sympathy’ or how to pronounce it. I learn to love The Temptations. I grow to love performing. Soon I begin to have awful night terrors that wake everyone in the house while I kick and scream. My grandma goes to an herbalist to get some little red pills that have a sweet coating on them. I remember coming-to once in the light of the hallway with my grandparents on either side of me to give me a dose of the recommended herbs, but I have no recollection of my dream beforehand.

9. Push It, Rick Ross (16 years old, San Francisco, CA) I am driving my mom’s Black Isuzu with a provisional license. I have two jobs after school. Nearly all of my classes are AP classes. I want to be like the white kids I go to school with. I want to have an allowance, have a lunch prepared for me, have breakfast before I leave the house. I want to go thrift shopping and wear other people’s clothes and roll my eyes when my parents listen to talk radio and read books not required for class. Despite my trying, I feel a barrier that I can’t name or identify when trying to fit in. The cowboy boots I buy are not theirs because mine are too expensive. My sense of books or music or movies is not theirs because my sense of humor is not nuanced enough. I sit in a classroom of majority white kids and watch Do the Right Thing for the first time. It disturbs me in language I don’t have to observe white people watch my culture in rooms where we are minimally present. I wear a mask to be accepted at school but it’s not a well-constructed one. One day while walking to return an overdue film at my library, I decide that I’m going to begin selling weed despite never having smoked it myself.

I sell a teensy bag of weed to a kid at my school and it’s way too little for what he’s paid me. He sends another friend to my math class to get his money back. He thinks I’ve punked his friend but really, I don’t know what I’m doing. I drive to St. Francis Wood bumping Rick Ross’ Push It in my mama’s car to sell a petty amount of weed to another kid who doesn’t give me enough money on purpose. The following day at lunch, I come behind him in line at Mollie Stone’s and scoop up all $20 of his change. He looks at me in disbelief without protesting—he is afraid of me. I learn that people want me to play a role—a good one or a bad one. They like it when I prove them right and I have to work extra hard to prove them wrong (because they hate being wrong).

My weed-selling days last a week or two in total. That week on my way home from an after-school job downtown, I descend into the Powell Street station and there are officers with dogs harassing people and smelling their stuff. I race back up the stairs and wait for the bus with weed in a small coffee container in my backpack. In a freaked out haze, I get on the next bus, which ends up being the 9x (when what I really needed was the 9). As I notice the bus turning onto the freeway, I vow to never sell weed again, to stop trying to fit in with white people, and to never take the 9x (unless I have exhausted all other options).

10. Sweetest Taboo, Sade (26 years old, Southernmost Point Key West, Florida) I am alone, turning twenty six years old in the Florida Key. I take myself out to birthday dinner at a restaurant on the beach and eat fresh fish and key lime pie for dessert. There is a family of a mom and dad and two daughters at the table across from mine. They’re discussing a younger family member who is trans. The parents at the table are loud in their determination not to call the person by their name or respect their pronouns. The waiters come and sing Happy Birthday to me at my table of one. I drink my glass of champagne, raising it to my mouth instead of answering when the mommy jackass from the other table ask if it’s my birthday. After dinner, I go down to the beach and get in the water up to my knees. Looking out into the shining black of the water, the sky, and the moon reflecting, I listen and dance to Sweetest Taboo by Sade playing on my phone clutched in my hand. The entire trip is a get-well-soon trip to myself. I do all of the sweet things the usual me would like for the me that has been sick, depressed, dissociating, and not feeling anything. I go home to the Airbnb I’m staying at on Sugarloaf Key and I masturbate for the first time with my hands. I have an orgasm and I cry and cry and cry. Ashamed-cry, scared-cry, confused-cry, something-is-breaking-away-cry, something-is-becoming-cry, how-long-has-that-been-there-cry, why-cry, I-just-did-that-and-I’m-proud-cry, why-don’t-I-know-what-happened-to-me-cry. I don’t give up on myself. I don’t give up on interrogating and pursuing my pleasure despite it’s seemingly stitched-together relationship to shame.

11. Get it Together, India Arie (19 years old, New York, NY) I make a mixed CD and mail it to my mother. She is in rehab in San Francisco and I am in college, a world apart in New York City. Maybe I am a sophomore, maybe I am a junior. I have finally come out of denial about my mother’s drug use. I call her one day and I’m furious about her lying to me. And I’m furious at my family for lying to me. I’m furious for the whole world acting like everything is okay. I’m furious that she stole my money, lied about it and sold my guitar before I could learn to play it. I’m furious that she put my sisters through hell. I’m furious because I am ashamed. I’m furious because I’m afraid. I’m afraid of addiction. I’m afraid she’ll never shake it. I’m afraid my sisters will live in shame because of it. I’m afraid I will be addicted. I’m afraid nothing will ever be okay again. My mother enrolls in detox and then enrolls in rehab. She stays there. She lives there for six months before transitioning to a halfway house. While she’s in rehab, I send her a mixed CD with Get it Together by India Arie on it. I’m walking between one class and the next when she calls to tell me that she’s three months sober and really enjoys the CD I made her. I’m grateful she’s sober. I’m furious. I’m hopelessly confused and sorry and fucking sad. And I can’t tell her anything except “congratulations” with a full throat, out of fear of breaking her sobriety.

12. We Belong Together, Mariah Carey (16 years old, San Francisco, CA) I am sixteen in the passenger’s seat of my grandpa’s Ford Expedition as we drive with a car full of grandkids to the movies. He loved Mariah Carey’s We Belong Together since he first heard it and has insisted my grandmother put it on a cd for him—ALL. EIGHTEEN. TRACKS. I seem to be the only one tired of it, all of the other kids get a kick out of belting it out again when it comes on deck the next time. Later this year my grandpa gets the truck washed and detailed and insists that I take my driver’s license test in it. Everyone else is lined up behind me for their license test appointment at the DMV in tiny cars. When I pass the test, my grandpa kisses me on the head and I realize that he is showing me confidence and pride in my ability. I feel special and capable and trusted. When he says, “I knew you would do it!” I realize I knew I would too.

13. The Storm is Over Now, Kirk Franklin (14 years old, Phoenix, AZ) I am in the backseat of my great aunt’s Cadillac in Arizona after meeting her for the second time in my life. I’ve just come from seeing my paternal grandfather die from cancer the day after meeting him in the hospice center for the first time. In his sickness, he sent for my sister and me to come from California. He wanted to meet us before he died. That night, my great aunt armed with silver-purple hair and a hug big enough for my sister and me to fit in at once, drives us to the hospice center directly from the airport. When we walk into the room, my grandfather has a large knot at the top of his bald head and he is barely responsive to us. But he closes his eyes tight or nods very slightly as my great aunt talks to him loudly, letting him know his grandbabies are there. I meet my all of my aunts and great aunts for the first time. I meet all these people who look like me. Early early the next morning, we get a call notifying us that my grandfather has died. When we go to see his lifeless body in the hospice center, I don’t remember who prays with us around him. When we head back, The Storm is Over Now plays in the car, and I cry because it’s an awfully timely song. The sky opens up after raining and the light comes through like a slice. We all agree that it’s confirmation he’s been accepted into heaven.

14. Deep in the Bottom, Black Coffee (27 years old, San Francisco, CA) I am on-time to therapy. I walk over from work. When my therapist asks if I have music to move to, I select the therapy playlist I’ve been practicing to. Deep in the Bottom comes on the speakers. I begin moving around the room. My hips and back want to be rolled, I let them. My feet want to keep time. My chest wants to expand and contract. My neck rolls and tries to loosen. I think to myself that half of the work is choosing music that I can’t help but move to. The other half is reminding myself that I am not in danger. I remind myself that this is the work. I try to keep my head up as I move. I try to catch my own eye in the mirror when I can bear to. I try to let the self-deprecating thoughts pass. I remind myself that reclaiming intimacy through movement, eye contact, physical touch, walking without bracing all of my organs—all of it, is a healing practice. Today I move and dance like I never have before. I dance like everybody's watching and I don’t care.  

Tanea Lunsford Lynx is a fourth generation Black San Franciscan on both sides. She is currently at work on her first novel. She has more than 10 years of experience as a performing artist, curator, activist and educator in San Francisco.