#I was so unsure of my decision because it’s scary moving in a different direction

[just-rogi]

The unexpected side effect of spending a week around other mature secure adults who have healthy boundaries and communication and have been hand picked by my closest friends to be the best and healthiest people they can be, all of whom genuinely like me and communicate their needs, is returning back to my apartment and realizing just how different shit is here…. Like damn I know I’m moving out in ten days and so so so happy but wow, it was fucking NIGHT and DAY seeing how people are supposed to act I didn’t realize how different my college friends were, it makes me so much more excited for this next leg of my life and my move!

[pbandjesse]

I can't even get on the ship wifi so I'm assuming this will go up very late. I am sorry about that! But I am having the best time. This trip has been so beautiful. I have been brought to tears many times. Including today. Today was a good day.

I slept pretty well last night. Getting up was hard but I was feeling pretty good. Today we visit Skagway and the ship has already docked. So there was no issue leaving. And by the time we were awake and dressed and heading to breakfast it wasnt super busy.

Breakfast was fine. I realized my tank top was a little more cropped when I realized and so after we ate I requested we go back to the room first so I could put on tights under my pants. This was the best move. I would be very cozy all day.

We headed out into town. We took the shuttle that this town has. But it only goes to the end of the on dock. Our driver was very sweet and made me laugh. I was really excited to see everything. This town is a gold mining town and there was lots of history to learn.

I was slightly disappointed that a few of the building that were historic were under construction. But that's alright. I enjoyed the ones available to us.

And there were great souvenirs to find. We have gotten pieces for everyone we wanted to. And a few things for us. I decided that I didn't need a jade piece. I prefer the abolone. But I ended up getting super anxious about the decision and that was hard. I had to take a minute because I was very stressed for literally no reason. It's that fear of missing out mixed with fear of regrets. James was my stability. And made me feel a lot better.

I really loved the historic stuff we read about. They had this amazing snow plow train that was insane looking. I would forget the mountains are there every once in a while and look up and literally gasp. It was so pretty.

In one of the stores we went on they had some really pretty gold charms but I didn't want to buy something so expensive. I enjoyed my chats with the man at the counter. And at another store I got some questions answered about what green stone is. Something we had seen in another museum. It isn't jade or malachite, it's just called green stone, it comes from the southwest, and it's spiritual. And those lovely ladies gave me some direction for my research.

In one of the store some nice girls suggested if we didn't have a planned excursion we should visit their sister store and rent electric bikes. I knew this would be a great idea. I knew we would y be able to experience the city in a better way.

James was a little unsure because of the cost. But the cheapest excursions start at $50 per person, and James loves bikes and this would be exciting and not hard because it's electric. So after a little more walking I told James that's what I wanted to do.

And it was perfect. I'm so glad we did it. We rented them for an hour, and the nice man gave us an extra 15 minutes. And it allowed us to go out to the gold miners cemetery which was super powerful. And then we took the short hike to an incredible waterfall. Which was also powerful in a different way. I love waterfalls.

I had to convince James to not climb into a cave. And then we went to watch the gold mine train for a minute. And then we took the bikes to the look out point the man we rented the bikes from suggested.

This was a little scary for me. I do not like going fast and these bikes went up to 25 mph a few times. But it got us up there fast. And it was worth the view. I got a little teary. It was beautiful and I was having so much fun. This is really the trip of a lifetime.

We had to take the bikes back soon after that. Those extra 15 minutes gave us more then enough time to bring them back on time. I did miss the street turn and I couldn't hear James over the wind. But we slowed down and we turned around and then dropped them off. I felt a little gitty I was in such a good mood.

We made another little loop around. I got the Tshirt I wanted. And then we went to a trail. But I only made it a little up the hill before I had to turn around. I felt really bad to cut it short but I was not strong enough. James said it was okay! I still felt bad but I knew it was going to wreck me to try to go up there.

Instead we took the pond path. I texted my brother. Service has been super spotty in this city but that is okay. I enjoyed seeing plants I wasn't familiar with. And just feeling the wind on my face.

I was getting tired though. My face was cold and my feet hurt. I was happy but I was ready to head back.

We would go and get the shuttle. And got back to the ship around 2. We took the elevator up to get lunch. I ate more of the same. It probably sounds boring but I am having the best time eating my favorite things for every meal. I had a salad and a grilled cheese and fries. We got a few cakes to try and share. And it was good to sit and watch the world. To absorb how stupid beautiful everything is. The world is so beautiful.

I started getting super tired. And so me and James went back to the room and I laid down for almost two hours. It was a very deep sleep. James tried to wake me up at one point and I was like. No. So they went and did our customs form down at the guest services desk. And when they came back I was getting up again.

We would head down to the card room and played war. Did the trivia. The card game from yesterday wasn't there but maybe next time it will be and we can play that. It was nice just playing quietly and being together. But I was having issues because I was itchy and thought going to get allergy medicine would help.

Before we left we chatted with the worker in the library about tomorrow. Apparently this is the first time they've done this itinerary, which is probably why the timing is all weird. But tomorrow we'll be in glacier bay and the park services is bringing people on board to talk to us because we aren't getting off. So it's like a tour but it's on the ship. Neat!

I felt really really itchy when we got back to the room. So after changing three times James suggested I take a shower and wait for the meds to kick in. And that did help. I'm still a little itchy but it's not so bad anymore.

We came up here to the lounge. And we've been reading and drawing. And soon the ship will start to move again.

And tomorrow it is a ship day. And I hope we can get a good seat on that outside area I found. I hope we see some wildlife. I'm really excited to see glaciers. James told me there are 1000 of them??? Incredible.

We're going to go eat some dinner now. I love you all. I hope you are safe and have been enjoying our journey!! Goodnight!!

[waitimcomingtoo]

Give Yourself a Try

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader enemies to lovers

Synopsis: you and Peter hate each other, which becomes a problem when you’re given a group project

Part two and three

Masterlist

“Good morning Ned.” You kindly greeted as you took your seat in front of Peter in your first period physics class.

“Morning Y/n.” Ned said back, gearing up for what he knew was coming.

“I really like your makeup today, Y/n.” Peter smiled as he leaned forward in his seat. “Is it hard balancing your schoolwork with your job at the circus?”

“Not at all.” You smiled sweetly at him as you turned around. “I could get you a job there if you’d like. We’ve been needing something small to feed to the lions between shows. You’d be perfect.”

“Small? Darling, you must be mistaken.” Peter kept a sickly sweet grin on. “I’m bigger than your boyfriend of the week over there.”

“Silly goose.” You scrunched your nose at him. “Harry Osborn is not my boyfriend. And just so you know, steroids are really bad for you. I’m worried about your well being.”

“I’m not on steroids.” Peter hissed, dropping the act. “Stop trying to start that rumor.”

“Why not?” You shot back. “You had no trouble spreading the rumor that I was the one who killed Herbie the hamster when we all know it was you who left the door open after cleaning his cage.”

“Are you kidding me? That was fifth grade.” He whispered harshly.

“I will never forget it.” You snapped back.

“Ahem.” The teacher cleared her throat as she stared at you and Peter with an annoyed expression. This was an everyday occurrence in her class, and any other class you had with Peter. You hated each other and everyone knew it. You and Peter stopped arguing and slumped in your seats, giving each other one last look of disdain.

“Instead of a final exam this semester, I’ll be giving you a final project.” The teacher continued. “You’ll be working with one other student.”

“Nice. We can finally present our work on quantum physics.” Peter excitedly high fived Ned.

“Can you guys reschedule your virgin convention for later?” You asked seriously. “I’m trying to listen.”

“Because of the disappointing grades on the last project, I will be assigning your partners.” The teacher went on.

“Don’t worry.” Peter whispered to Ned again. “We could still end up together. We got an A last time so she knows we work well together.”

“We got an A last time.” You mimicked his voice and moved your hand like a puppet.

“Yeah. An A.” Peter said as he leaned forward in his seat. “You know, like your bra size.”

“What did you just say to me?” You snapped as you whipped around. He had on his infamous shit eating grin that you hated.

“Young man, can you please stop interrupting our conversation?” He said as he held up a hand. Your jaw dropped at the insult, face growing warm with anger. You decide not to give him the satisfaction of an insult exchange and turned around in your seat. Your teacher began to list off the partners for the projects.

“Leeds, Stacy.” She called out. “You’ll be working together.”

“Sorry, man. But also, not sorry man.” Ness frown quickly turned into a smile. “Gwen, over here!”

“Aw.” You snickered as you turned around on your chair. “I feel bad for whoever gets stuck with you now. That poor, unfortunate soul.”

“Parker. L/n. You’ll be working together.”

“What?” You and Peter screamed in unison. You gave each other an angry look before looking at your teacher in protest.

“You two are always holding up my class and I’m tired of it.” She held up a hand. “This project will teach you how to finally get along and stop disrupting me while I teach.”

“Mrs. Avery, with all due respect, I can feel myself getting more disruptive already.” You told her.

“I think that’s your STD.” Peter mumbled.

“You two need to learn how to be professional and amicable.” She ignored your protest. “You won’t always like your peers. But you will always have to collaborate with them at some point.”

“I understand that.” You assured her. “But if we do this project together, my fist is going to collaborate with Peters face.”

“That’s a threat.” Peter piped up. “I’d like to file a report.”

“And I’d like to take that report and shove it up your-“

“Enough.” Mrs. Avery cut you off. “You will be working together and that is final.”

You both shrunk in your seats, fuming with anger over the teachers decision. You didn’t cause any more disruptions throughout the class and quickly left once the bell rang.

Peter saw you at your locker, which was coincidentally next to his locker, spraying some perfume on.

“Darling!” Peter exclaimed as he stood next to you. “So good to see you! You know how much I love when you hog all the locker space and make the entire hallways smell like perfume.”

“Why, thank you.” You touched your hand to your heart. “As I’m sure you know, some of us prefer to smell like things other than Neosporin and baby powder. After all, that’s your signature scent and I’d just hate to step on your toes.”

“I didn’t know. Thank you for opening your gigantic mouth and telling me!” Peter said through a toothy grin.

“Oh, Peter.” You laughed airily. “You’re very welcome, you sad sack of shit.”

“Classy.” Peter faked a smile as he opened his locker. “Do you want to come over to my house after school to work on the project? I live walking distance from here.”

“What? No.” You scoffed. “You’re not getting me to a secondary location. We’ll work in the library.”

“Actually, we won’t, because it’s closed for maintenance.” He replied with a tight smile.

“I wish you were closed for maintenance.” Yoh grumbled as you zipped up your bag.

“Hilarious.” He fake laughed loudly. “Are you coming over or not?”

“Not.” You said in disgust. “I don’t know you or your parents. You might try to kill me as a part of some Parker family cult ritual.”

“My parents are dead.” He told you, unamused. “It’s just me and my aunt.”

“Is your aunt a cult leader?” You asked.

“No.” He groaned.

“Cult member?”

“No. All she does is cheat at cross world puzzles and shop at Whole Foods.” He said.

“So you lied.” You slammed your locker and looked at him. “She’s in the Whole Foods cult.”

“Can you try not to be difficult for two minutes, please? We need to get this project done.”

“Jokes on you, Parker.” You folded your arms. “Difficult is my lowest setting.”

“Ooo. Scary.” He mocked you. “What’s your highest? Because I’m pretty sure I saw it last Tuesday when your backpack got stuck on the door handle and you decided to blame me.”

“I know that was your fault. And I go from difficult to hooligan to the step mom from Parent Trap.” You shrugged.

“And they said women aren’t funny.” Peter replied as he slapped his knee. You raised an eyebrow at him, judging him for his material.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled.

“You’re gonna be sorry.” You told him. “Where do you live again?”

“Waking distance from here. I said that less than five minutes ago.” He rolled his eyes at you.

“Well I didn’t hear that because I tune you out when you speak. You know, like most people do.” You said sweetly.

“Wow, you’re so funny.” Peter said sarcastically. “If I meet you here at the end of the day, will you come home with me?”

“Fine.” You huffed. “I’ll go home with you. But if I start detecting any cult shit going on, I’m leaving.”

“Fine by me.” He scoffed. “I’ll see you later.”

~

“Are you ready to go?” Peter asked after the last bell had rang. You shouldered your backpack and shut your locker, feeling unusually anxious around him. You could deal with Peter for 40 minutes at a time when all you did was trade insults. Something about walking to his home together and spending time alone knocked the confidence right out of you.

“I’m ready.” You nodded.

“What, no insult?” He asked. “No mocking of my voice?”

“We were assigned each other as partners so we could learn to be civil, right?” You shrugged. “I guess I’m just mature enough to give it a try.”

“There she is.” Peter smiled as you began to walk in the direction of his apartment. “There’s my girl.”

You looked to the side when you heard him say this, unsure of how it made you feel. You often called each other pet names ironically, but this felt different. There was a change in the dynamic between the two of you and it was clouding your judgment.

You let Peter do all the talking as you walked home, thankful that he lived so close to the school. He spewed out ideas for the project the entire elevator ride up and didn’t stop until you were standing outside his bedroom door.

Peter stopped talking and opened the door, gesturing for you to go inside. You made a face at him before walking, staying in one spot as he shut the door and sat down. You were frozen as you looked around his room, not liking how human it made him. He had notes from classes you didn’t have with him strewn around and an open first aid kit on his desk.

“You can sit.” He chuckled when he noticed how stiff you were.

“I’m scared to.” You admitted.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” You answered honestly. Something about sitting on this boys bed with him seemed finalizing, like you’d be opening a door you couldn’t close.

“Just sit down.” He repeated. “I didn’t rig the place with boobytraps, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“That’s what someone who rigged the place with booby traps would say.” You replied as you took a hesitant seat on his bed.

“There. Isnt that nice?” He asked sarcastically.

“No.” You said immediately. “Am I the first girl to ever sit on your bed?”

“Psh. No.”

“I’ll take that as a yes ma’am.” You mumbled.

“Whatever.” He replied. “What do you want to do the project on?”

“How about micropenises?” You suggested. “You won’t even have to do any research.”

“Haha. So funny.” He rolled his eyes. “You are so annoying it’s actually impressive.”

“Please.” You laughed. “You so have a crush on me.”

“What?” His entire face went red. “No I don’t.”

“No I don’t.” You mimicked his voice. “Yes you do. That’s why you’re up my ass all the time.”

“That makes no sense.” He scoffed.

“It makes total sense.” You insisted. “You know I’ll never like you back, so you made me hate you. That way, you still get to talk to me all the time. Genius, really. I applaud you.”

“That’s a nice little fantasy you’ve created for yourself. Is that what you tell yourself to help you fall asleep?” He teased you.

“Yep.” You smiled brightly. “Right after I finger blast myself to the thought of you in your Catholic schoolboy sweaters.”

“Oh my God.” His cheeks turned even redder at your inappropriate joke.

“And they said women aren’t funny.” You used his words from earlier.

“They were right.” He said, making you laugh.

“God, I love it when you talk down to me.” You fanned yourself. “Can you tell me how to change a tire?”

Peter began to laugh as well, looking at you as you both laughed. You quickly stopped laughing when you realized you just gave him a genuine smile and looked away.

“Do you want to do the project on tensile strength?” You suggested to break the tension. “I know you’re weirdly into that.”

“How’d you know?” He wondered.

“You almost popped a boner when we talked about in last month.” You teased him. “It’s just rope, dude.”

“It’s not just rope. It’s the force-“

“-the force required to pull something until it breaks. I know.” You finished his sentence. “I’m smart too, you know.”

“Oh.” He was dumbfounded that you knew something he was interested in. “I didn’t know.”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Women use brain sometime. Woman say smart thing like man.”

Peter laughed again, realizing you were actually kind of funny when you wanted to be.

“I’m not a misogynist, you know.” Peter said after a beat. “You don’t have to make jokes like that. I may not like you, but I respect you.”

“You respect me?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

“I respect all women. The strongest person I know is my Aunt. Plus, I’ve still never met anyone who was as smart as my mom. I wouldn’t be half the man I was if it weren’t for the women who raised me.” He shrugged. “But it would be ignorant and naive of me to only respect woman who are related to me in some way. So I respect all of them unless they give me a reason not to.”

“Have I given you a reason not to?” You batted your eyelashes at him.

“Not yet.” He chuckled to himself. “You’re annoying, but you’re brilliant. I know you would never admit this, but we’re basically the same person. You’re just more extroverted so you have more friends and popularity. And you’re smart but you don’t make that your whole personality, so it impresses more people when you let your intelligence show.”

Your body language shifted when you realized he was actually a nice guy. He clearly paid attention to you and was impressed by what he saw. You didn’t say anything, so Peter kept going.

“People lean in to listen when you start speaking instead of tuning you out.” He brought up your insult from earlier, and you felt bad. You didn’t realize he admired you in any way and you felt guilty for always teasing him. Peter’s kept his eyes down, playing with his fingers to distract himself.

“You’re…you’re kind of every thing I wanted to be.” He said quietly. You smiled softly at him, but he didn’t see it. It was the first time you had a nice moment with Peter, and you didn’t hate it. You could tell he was beginning to panic for sharing so much, so you reached forward and tilted his chin up to look at you. His wide eyes met yours and you gave him a small smile.

“How did your parents die?” You asked quietly, immediately ruining the moment.

“Damn.” Peter pulled away with a shocked laugh. “When was your first period?”

“All right. I get your point.” You rolled your eyes. “That was a little abrupt.”

“You’re telling me.” He teased. You sat in silence for a moment, neither of you sure where to go from there. You knew Peter was still processing you touching his face, so you talked first.

“My parents are dead too.” You said without looking up at him.

“They are?” He asked, scooting a little closer to you on the bed.

“Yeah.” You looked up and gave him a sad smile. “But if you think we’re gonna take a turn and fall in love because we have similar trauma, you’re wrong. I can’t stand orphans.”

“But you’re an orphan.” He reminded you.

“And?”

“Never mind.” He shook his head. “I have a feeling I won’t be getting through to you.”

“Probably not.” You agreed. “Tell me more, though. Did your parents die doing something cool?”

“I don’t really know.” He shrugged. “It was a plane crash. That’s all I’ve been told.”

“Oh.” You nodded. “Sounds lame.”

“What?”

“A plane crash?” You raised your eyebrow. “That’s so boring. Yawn.”

“Excuse me?” He laughed in shock again. “Fine. How did your parents die?”

“Firefighters.” You said proudly. “Died saving three children.”

“Wow.” Peter sat back, stumped.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “I was one of them.”

“Seriously?” His eyes widened as he fought the urge to hold your hand.

“No. I’m fucking with you.” You began to laugh as he let out a groan.

“Why would you do that to me?” He whined. “You had me, for a minute there.”

“What can I say? I’m an actor.” You flipped your hair ostentatiously.

“What actually happened?” He wondered. You stopped smiling and bit your bottom lip.

“Drunk driver.” You told him. He didn’t fight the urge this time and reached over to take your hand in his. You stared at your interlocked hands, wondering if you should pull away or not. On the one hand, he was your enemy. But that didn’t make his warmth any less inviting.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly. “That must have been really hard on you.”

“You know the feeling, don’t you?” You asked with a sad smile.

“I do.” He nodded. “And I know how much it sucked to not have someone who knew how it felt. You don’t have to feel that way anymore. Neither of us do.”

You opened your mouth to speak but quickly shut it, not wanting to ruin the moment again. The guy holding your hand was not the same guy who sat behind you in physics. This guy was someone you actually liked.

“I might have misjudged you, Peter Parker.” You laughed shyly. “You might not be as unbearable as I remembered.”

“And you might not be the frigid bitch I thought you were.” He matched your tone.

“Watch it.” You warned.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

“You were right.” You said after a beat. “We are pretty much the same person. I never realized that before.”

“Maybe that’s why we don’t get along.” He shrugged, rubbing soft circles into your hand.

“I’d be willing to give it a try, if you were.” You said sheepishly. “Who knows? I might just like you.”

“You want to give this a try?” He asked, eyes lighting up in excitement.

“Why not?” You shrugged. “What do I have to lose?”

“Okay.” He nodded eagerly. “Then we’ll try.”

“Cool.” You smiled.

“Cool.” He said before leaning in for a kiss. Your eyes widened as his fluttered shut, making you realize you were on different pages. His lips made contact with yours for a few seconds before you pushed him off.

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked as you covered your mouth with your hand.

“Kissing you?” He asked in confusion as hurt flashed in his eyes.

“Why the hell would you do that?” You exclaimed, still in shock. You got off the bed and backed away from him, trying to process what just happened.

“You said we were giving it a try!” He was shouting now too, but not out of anger. “I thought we were finally admitting that we like each other.”

“I meant giving friendship a try! I never said anything about a relationship.” You shouted. You quieted down when you saw the upset look on his face. “You... you like me?”

“I thought it was obvious.” He said quietly. “I-I thought you knew. You said it before and I just…I thought you knew.”

“Peter, I was joking when I said all that stuff.” You calmed down and sat back on his bed. “I didn’t actually think you liked me.”

“Oh.” He blinked a few times before looking down. “I…I do.”

“Peter, I’m sorry.” You reached for his hand again but his withdrew it.

“No, it’s my fault.” He shook his head and got off the bed. “I misunderstood the situation.”

“Peter, wait.” You caught him by the wrists and pulled him back down to the bed. He sat down again but looked anywhere but at you. You could see that his eyes were glassy so you put a hand on his face.

“You were right.” His voice wavered. “I did like you and I did think you’d never like me back. That’s why I always tease you. I just wanted you to talk to me.”

“Pete.” You whispered, rubbing his cheekbone with your thumb.

“I’m sorry. I really don’t want to be here right now. I’ll email you my part of the project and-“

You cut him off by wrapping your hand around the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss. You both had your eyes closed this time and it lasted much longer. Your lips moved against his slowly and you could feel how inexperienced he was. Even so, it was perfect. You pulled away after a minute and looked into his eyes, feeling better now that there were no traces of sadness in them.

“You kissed me.” He said, dumbfounded.

“I can’t know I don’t like you back if I never give you a chance.” You shrugged as you withdrew your hand from his face.

“Well what did you decide?” He asked curiously. You puckered your lips and tilted your head, staring at him as if you were making a decision.

“I still think you’re super annoying.” You concluded.

“Okay.” Peter nodded.

“But it’s an annoying I’m willing to put up with.” You decided as you slipped your hand back into his. Peter broke out into a smile and nodded again.

“Okay.”

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[petri808]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30-Epilogue

*TW: cutting, therapy, break down. a little longer then usual at 2500 words

The therapist greeted the couple as they walked in and sat down on the couch. “Thank you for allowing Natsu to sit in today, Lucy. I don’t want you to think of this as a couples counseling per se, because you’re still my primary client. But I feel that him being here to understand your struggles, as well as his, and being able to express them in a safe environment, will help in your healing process. And thank you Natsu for agreeing to this.”

He sat forward a bit, ready to engage. “Anything to help Lucy.”

“I’d like to start with your homework Lucy, has there been any progress in trying to write out your feelings? Remember, it’s okay if you’re still struggling with that, there’s no judgment here.”

“Not... really...” Lucy fidgeted with the hem of her sweatshirt. “Every time I try to, I-I get too... I start to cry, and the panic rises— I fail at it every single damn time and that makes me feel even worse.”

“You’re not failing. Let’s reword that to struggling and recognize that simply making an attempt is the first step, a very important one to be proud of.”

“Maybe I was just kidding myself all along about writing. Maybe it’s because I wasn’t any good in the first place. It was all in my head.” Lucy could see the frown on Natsu’s face from her words, but that’s how she feels now. There was a time she thought she was a decent writer, maybe not publishing quality yet, but she truly enjoyed it regardless and now, a blank page is all she could muster.

“Natsu,” the therapist directs her question to the man. “It seems you’re unhappy with her statement. Would you say that Lucy’s a good writer? Honest answer.”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “I mean I’m no expert, but the stuff I’ve seen is pretty good. I definitely couldn’t pull them off.”

“Lucy would you call Natsu a liar?”

The blonde paused, annoyed and offended. She wanted to say yes, only because she didn’t want to agree, but then it wouldn’t be true. Natsu was giving his honest opinion and she couldn’t deny it. “No,” Lucy breathed out. “Look I get it. You’re trying to tell me it’s all in my head, right? It’s just the pain talking, and I’ll get better, and I’ll get back into writing just like before.” Anger had slowly begun to prickle the hairs on the back of her neck the longer she clung to the dissociation. “I-I’m not an idiot! I know this is all stupid shit in my brain! I just can’t stop it!”

“I’m sorry, I pushed you too hard, let’s go back a step here. No one is saying you’re an idiot. On the contrary, you’re very intelligent. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be recognizing that it’s all in your head, and that recognition is how the healing starts. My role, today with Natsu’s help, is to bring that to the forefront. Bring it out into the open, because sometimes hearing it out loud has a different effect on how we process the information.”

“I don’t get it...”

The woman sat back in her chair in thought for a brief second. “When we think about things just in our head, versus saying it out loud, it triggers different parts of our brain. What studies have found is that talking out loud stimulates... rational... erm, reality I guess is a better term. It becomes more real to us.”

“Huh.” So, what, Lucy rolled her eyes at the suggestion. True or not, she didn’t want to agree, because her mind was still in such a strong state of denial. “I still don’t accept it. It sounds stupid.” Maybe it was just her annoyance talking, but the therapist was getting on her nerves. Lucy knew the woman was just trying to help, but her irrational side didn’t want to deal with any of this. The pain sucked, but so did the treatment. She just wanted to stay in her room, in the dark, away from prying eyes. Surprisingly to Lucy, the therapist didn’t even flinch and the gleam in the woman’s eyes almost looked sadistic in that moment.

“Lucy, I know you know it’s not stupid. That’s just your mind imagining the wrong things, which is why you need to talk about it out loud, so you can hear yourself and how wrong it all sounds.”

Ugh! She was so tired of being told what she is, what she should be thinking, and the condescending tone she wrongly assumed from the therapist triggered an explosion. All the anger she felt about herself was transferred to the therapist in an instant. “I’m wrong?!” Lucy jumped to her feet, her anger crackling through. “No shit! Lady, I’m fucked up!! You want me to talk? Fine! I hate this! I hate everything! It’s all falling the fuck apart and I feel like I’ve been tied to the damn train tracks! Everything I’ve worked so hard for is slipping away! Three years of college being washed down the drain! How the fuck do I catch up now?! I’m so behind! AARRRGHH!!! I-I don’t even wanna get out of bed anymore! I hate myself— hate what I’ve become a-and that makes me even more fucking depressed! And my friends...” Lucy dropped back onto the couch as her shaking hands flew up to cover her face and the dam of tears finally broke loose in a cascade down her cheeks. She cried long, and deep for several minutes, chest heaving and inconsolable.

In that moment, Natsu sat frozen, his eyes swinging back and forth to the therapist and his girlfriend unsure of what to do. Should he move to comfort Lucy? The therapists inaction seemed to suggest the answer was no. It made him furious, yet... she was the professional... before he could make a decision, Lucy finally uncovered her face and look dead at her therapist. Almost forgetting him all together.

“My friends, seeing the looks on their faces...” Lucy dug her fingers into the fabric of her pants in an effort to ground her unraveling mind. “It hurts so fucking much! I must be getting on Levy’s nerves, she didn’t sign up to be my nurse, a-and Natsu, he’ll surely get tired of a basket-case of a girlfriend. I can’t blame him if he left me, I’d leave me too. It’s all just falling apart—” Her chest heaved in a heavy sigh. “I can’t see a way out anymore.”

Seeing the whites of Lucy’s knuckles the harder she clenched onto her leg and seeing the heavy breathing similar to that night in the ambulance. Natsu feared that Lucy was heading towards a panic attack. Wanting to reassure her, Natsu reacted this time and reached up from his seat, quickly grabbing her arm to gain her attention. “Lucy, I’m not—.”

But Lucy screamed and yanked her arm back, face grimacing in pain. “Tsss—Owww!!”

“leavi—” Natsu pulled back immediately. “Oh, shit! I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! Did I grab you too hard?!” He didn’t think so, but based on her reaction, maybe he had.

“N-No,” she cradled her arm, turning to shield it from him. “You didn’t, I’m fine, it just caught me by surprise.” Lucy quickly brushed it off for fear of requiring an explanation. “Really. S-Sorry, I-I’m probably just too flustered.”

But that explanation didn’t satisfy Natsu. Lucy’s yelp was clearly pain related if buttressed by the fact she continued to hide it. “You’re lying to me,” he reached out, “I’m not mad, just please tell me the truth because it’s obvious there’s something wrong with your arm.”

“N-No, I’m not,” she tried to act like it was true. “See,” she waved it as if showing it was fine. “Nothing’s wrong...” till she accidentally hit it again and flinched, biting her lip just in time to stifle a scream. But she knew in an instant that she’d been caught.

His eyes and tone softened in an effort to lower her inhibitions. “Yes, there is.” Natsu took her arm and started to pull up on the sleeve of her sweater.

Lucy instinctively turned her head away. She didn’t want to see his reaction to the bandage around her arm. Even when he continued to speak, questioned what was underneath it, she answered in one worded responses without looking. But at his gasping sound, her eyes closed in shame. She could see what he saw all from behind her eyelids, all the horizontal cuts running across her left arm. The red, angry lines in varying stages of healing. She kept most of it grouped around the middle of her arm between the wrist and elbow crook. At first, she’d tried what that EMT had done, merely jabbing her arm with a pen or digging her nails into the skin. But it wasn’t enough, so she’d moved onto cutting. It had started out small, just a couple of lines were enough to silence the horrid voices in her head, but like a junky’s tolerance, Lucy had to keep cutting, more and more, deeper, just to feel the same numbing results.

“Is this what I think it is?” Natsu’s shaky voice questioned with moisture filling his eyes. “Oh, Lucy, why didn’t you tell me it was this bad.” Now he knew why she’d started wearing long sleeves even when the weather was warm.

“I’m sorry... I didn’t want anyone to know... but it was the only thing making the voices stop.”

Without another word, Natsu pulled a surprised Lucy into a tight hug, tears of his own spilling. “No, I’m sorry, it’s my fault this is happening to you. I should have dealt with Touka long ago. I should have protected you better. This is on me, but Lucy I’m never gonna let you go, I won’t ever leave you because of this. We’re gonna get through this together. I swear on my life, we’re gonna get through this together. Do you believe me?? Please, tell me you believe me?”

“I do...” she did. The man wore his heart on his sleeve. It was a trait Lucy found most endearing, so how could her heart not accept his words? They sat there in an embrace while time stood still, and a small measure of relief fell over her. It wasn’t much, but it was a glimmer of hope, an ember, and one she hadn’t felt in a long time. This man who’d caged her on that train and captured her heart, she could easily pin all of her pain onto him, but he could also be her salvation. His strong arms wrapped around her broken frame made the scary world fall away, to remind her how much more she yearned to stay within it.

Once he felt Lucy’s body relax, Natsu pulled back, wiping away her tears as well as his own. “Is this the only area?” He gestured at her arm without judgment. And when she nodded, he let out a sigh of relief.

Now that the moment was waning, the therapist who’d been waiting patiently and observing spoke up. She offered the anxiety medications again to Lucy and with Natsu’s gentle coaxing, the blonde finally agreed to it. It couldn’t hurt right? If they didn’t work, she’ll just stop taking them. She didn’t want to see the anguish in Natsu’s eyes anymore, especially now that she realized how much he was internalizing and struggling alone with. He was in just as much pain as she was, so it was time they both do what they could to heal, together.

As they were about to leave, Natsu paused and questioned the doctor. “I have a question. I just realized, even though today was a big episode... Lucy didn’t have a panic attack. Why is that?”

The blonde looked at her boyfriend before her eyes landed on the therapist with an expectancy of an answer. She hadn’t realized that either. Shouldn’t her outburst have triggered one?

“I’m glad you asked,” the woman smiled. “Panic attacks are often triggered by suppression. When you’re trying to hold in your emotions, refusing to let it go, and not show it, but today Lucy let it out. She didn’t hold back so there was no need for her body to react physiologically.” She reached out and placed a gentle hand on Lucy’s shoulder. “Sometimes a good cry and scream goes a long way. Please remember that.”

It was quiet on the taxi ride back to Lucy’s apartment. Not an uncomfortable silence, but maybe just enough had been said in the hour long therapy session that they both still needed time to process it all. Despite her breakthrough, she knew it was still a long battle ahead. The poor coping skills she’d latched onto now needed to be reversed, and frankly she didn’t know if she could do it alone. Of course, she could ask Levy... and the woman did deserve to hear the truth going on... but Lucy really didn’t want to put that kind of pressure on her best friend. Levy had done so much for her already and as much as she appreciated it, it also contributed to her emotional pain. She glanced down at her hand held so tightly by Natsu and wondered... no... The man was struggling as well, so to add hers into his mix, is that really fair? But by that same token, their pain was also a shared one. If there was anything to take away from the session is that perhaps it is together, they’ll better find the end of the rainbow.

Once they arrive at the building and get out of the taxi, Natsu started walking towards it. Lucy tugged back to stop him. “Lucy?”

“Before we go in...” her voice lowers, hesitancy brimming in her tone. “I have a question to ask.”

“Of course, anything.”

“I can’t—, don’t want to do this alone anymore. But I also don’t want to put that kind of burden on Levy.”

“Lucy,” he pulled her hand up, clasped between his palms to his lips where he kissed the fingers gently. “I will do whatever you need me to do.”

She sighed. “Can I move in with you? A-At least until I get control of the panic attacks and the... the thing?” Her eyes flit to her arm rather than say the words aloud. “I know this would intrude on Gray, but I would feel much safer.”

Natsu paused for a second in thought. “I don’t think Gray will mind. I certainly don’t.” He smiled. “We’ll be there for each other.”

“Are you sure? Because there’s still a few things I haven’t mentioned like nightmares. I-I don’t wanna freak you guys out.”

“A promise is a promise, and when I said I’ll do anything, I meant it. Will it be scary, probably, I’m not gonna lie, but I’m willing to do whatever I need to get us through this.”

Lucy’s eyes gloss over, but a tiny smile ticks up at the corners of her lips. “Thank you, Natsu.”

He smiled back, “I’m the one who should be thankful.”

“For what?”

“For not dumping me. As much you’d worried, I’d leave you, I was deathly afraid you’d leave me. I brought this on us, so I wouldn’t blame you from running away.”

“Oh, Natsu.” This time a true smile finally graced Lucy’s face. “I’m not going anywhere either.”

[atinykidult]

The Wind in His Ears — Choi San

[angst w/fluff] [2221 words] — A prompt taken overboard, wherein San loses his heart but finds it again. Disbandment!au, be warned. No tws except for loneliness (and reference of sex, I guess)

[prompt] — Travel!au, strangers to lovers, “That was a very bad idea. 0/10 would not recommend.”

[dedication] — If you like soft or sexy stuff please check out @sanflowerseeds‘s works! They’re phenomenal (and written by an also phenomenal person!) I’m so sorry this took so long! I love you, Nanda, and hope you’re doing well!

[a/n] — This may be my worst fic ever, bc it has gone through so many directional changes. But it’s been a WIP so long, I just wanted it posted haha If you have time, please leave me some notes on what went wrong/right! Thank you for reading!

.

When Choi San hits his mid-thirties and feels his joints crackle a few decibels too loudly, he knows his body won’t take much more. So when their second round of contract negotiations roll around, his decision has already been made for him. 

But when Hongjoong delivers the official group stance, his heart still cracks.

.

And when they have their final performance, San’s the last one to cry.

Because his tears will last the longest.

.

The crack in his heart spreads into a veritable canyon in his world.

A scattering wind blows through that empty cavern, pulling Hongjoong to mentoring a new rookie group and Jongho to OST deals. But San gets to stand with Yeosang at his wedding; he grabs coffee with Wooyoung every other week, usually...

So San pretends he’s fine for six months.

After all… Mingi sends memes to the group chat all the time—

And Seonghwa makes sure to Facetime regularly—

San wanders the streets of Seoul, hands stuffed in his pockets, the loud wind in his ears for his only company. At home, whenever he stands up stiffly, there’s only him to laugh at his cracking joints. Well… he laughs at himself, to begin with. Then he doesn’t laugh.

One day, he’s wandering the streets again when he sees it. An ad for a travel agency.

There’s only wind in his ears as he considers it.

“A toast to San!” announces Hongjoong, voice forcibly cheerful. “Who’s going on a world tour!”

Eight glasses are lifted in the air; seven pairs of eyes look incredibly worried.

Someone wraps themselves around San as other voices chime in.

“San, fighting!”

“Let’s gooo!”

“World travel!” someone shouts in English.

San’s heart both heals and breaks again as he looks at his seven friends who dropped everything to wish him well.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he tells them wetly.

Maybe it’s Jongho’s knowing eyes that make him shed the first tear.

Maybe it’s how the others all know how much he’s hurting, and how utterly relieved San feels to be back with these seven other people.

No matter the reason, San cries at this moment, clinging to his former groupmates as they hug him goodbye. There’s promises to text, proclamations of staying up just for video chats. There’s also seven whispers of the same sentiment: I hope this can help you heal.

.

He meets you in a coffeeshop. Your coffeeshop, actually.

It’s his second visit, and for some reason, it’s one of his favorite places he’s found in his travels. Something about its atmosphere draws him in. The warmth. The way it has nooks where he can sit and people-watch. The way the food tastes nearly perfect every time. The way it’s so empty when he comes in for his breakfast.

The way it’s just a minute’s walk from his hotel.

Correction: It is his favorite establishment he’s found in his grand travel.

Truthfully...

The “grand travel” hasn’t been so grand. He’s jumped around the world a little, going wherever the wind blows, renting a room for however long the wind calms down. Leaving for the next city or town whenever it gets worse.

On good days, he can look around himself and feel his heart stir a little. Because he’s gotten to see some incredible things.

On bad days, he can feel the wind utterly drop. When it does, he’ll look around himself. He’ll wonder if he really wanted to see Canada that one time. Or if he just chose a country 12 hours different from Korea because maybe, just maybe, flipping his clock completely could flip his life around, too.

Today’s one of the better days, actually.

As he hands you his payment, you offer small talk.

Ask about his day.

He tells you he’s fine, that he could be much worse off, truly believing it. (But also believing he could be much better off, too.)

Something in your gaze seems to understand him.

“And how’s your day?” he offers, his pronunciation a little messy.

“It exists,” you reply. 

A mirror of him, at heart.

.

He comes into your coffeeshop the next day and knows it’s just going to be a daily thing until he leaves this city.

That one booth in the back left corner… It has good seats.

As he settles down with the same order he had gotten the last two days, he catches your eye. Smiles with his lips.

And something about that one thing makes him realize.

He hasn’t truly had anything like this in a while. The same food, three days in a row. Someone who’s met his eyes, three days in a row.

It’s another good day.

The howling wind grows just a little quieter.

.

“Two orders of today’s special and an einspänner?” you ask as he moves to the counter.

His eyebrows furrow. “Oh?”

“You’ve been here three days straight, exact same order,” you smile, “first customer of the day.”

“Ah.” He takes a moment to gather his words, unsure if this was accusatory or just observation. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I can—”

“No! It’s, ah, it’s nice. You’re always very pleasant, to me.” He recalls that first encounter, how you had seemed to understand the weight of his few words. “Are you a tourist? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before this week.”

“You could say so.”

“Any plans for today?”

The wind pushing him around never made plans.

“Not really,” he admits.

“Taking it as you go?”

“You could say so.” He notices how you look at him with a measuring look. One that makes him feel seen, and he hasn’t felt that way for a very long time. But it isn’t an unwelcome feeling. “Do you have any recommendations? On what to do? Things you like?”

You smile bittersweetly. “I have some ideas.”

“Can you tell me a few?” The words come out of San’s mouth without thinking.

At that moment, the door opens with a whoosh, and another customer steps in.

“Tell... tell you what,” you say. “I have an employee coming in in half an hour. If you would like the company, I can give you those suggestions over a second cup of coffee?”

Meeting your eyes, something in him feels like hiding. But something else in him leaps at the offer. “I’m a slow eater. So yes.”

You smile again, a little wider.

His lips, too, twitch upwards of their own volition.

That day, San makes an itinerary for the first time on his trip—and, maybe, a friend.

.

After a long day of hiking, San collapses on his hotel room bed and feels a stirring of optimism in his chest. The weariness in his bones almost feels familiar. He had collapsed like this many times after concerts or performances.

He stares at the ceiling, consciously wondering for the first time on this trip, if he’s ready to face the wind.

His eyes land on his suitcase.

His hands move to unpack it.

And the wind in his ears, again, gets a little quieter.

.

As he walked into your coffeeshop the next day, he asks you to sit with him from the get-go.

You peer into his eyes, spotting equal measures of hope and uncertainty, and immediately drop your paperwork. “Of course.”

His conversation is nice; his personality is nicer. (Possibly his skin is nicest, but that’s irrelevant.)

.

Your conversations continue, and by the tenth day, you’re sharing the thoughts that sometimes scare you. From your worries about disappointing everyone to wondering if your degrees even mattered... you spill it all out. He does the same.

Which is scary, because you’ve only known him for ten days. Seven, really.

Based on the way he’s ducking his head right now, his story hanging in the air sadly, he must feel similarly.

(He hasn’t told anyone about his story, his sad state, since he left Korea. He doesn’t share every detail, but he says enough that both he and the wind in his ears feel very shaken.)

Forty minutes later, he stands to leave, and you hear some joints crack.

“Maybe the chiropractor?”

His smile in response is remorseful.

You stand, too, and feel your neck crack a little.

“Maybe we both can go?”

And the smile is a little less sad.

.

You have known San for two weeks now, and today, he enters the shop much more confidently than usual. With a shy smile (but genuine, you realize), he shows you pictures of a lake you had directed him to. He had caught it on a good day. As he lets you scroll through the pictures, you find that someone must have taken his picture for him.

You want to say something meaningful as you study the way his skin has grown so golden in these two weeks. The way his smile reaches his eyes.

“You look nice here,” you say simply.

That shy smile turns larger.

.

You don’t know if this is a bad habit, dropping everything to share breakfast with San every morning. But, what did it hurt anything? After you asked your employees to come in early to cover for you, they agreed too quickly.

Because they are amazing humans, you think.

And because they are ridiculous humans, they smile knowingly at each other as either you or him look at the other for a moment too long.

And, because you both are pathetic, San and you never notice.

.

By the third week, you wonder why you haven’t exchanged phone numbers.

Naturally, then, you laugh and casually give him your number after he admits getting lost yesterday.

“I know you’re not a damsel in distress or anything, but next time… just call me if you get lost.”

He doesn’t mean to look at you so intently after that, but he does.

You don’t look away.

Swallowing, he wonders if you can see the lingering sadness he feels, the wind still throwing him off balance sometimes. The weight of knowing how worried his hyungs are for him, the fear that he had done something to his body when he was younger, so it was all his fault somehow...

But as your gaze slips to his lips for just a moment, he also wonders if you are seeing what thousands of fans had once seen. Something worthy.

When your gaze moves back to his eyes, and you start talking about nonsense, he knows: You could see it all, and more, even.

San feels something stir in his chest, something warmer and kinder and more enticing than the thrall of dancing to thousands of cheers. 

When he finally finds it in himself to say goodbye, he can’t help but ask. “Can I call you when I’m not lost, too?”

.

Three days after that, San wakes and feels an impossibly strong urge to sing. Just something bright and loud. Something hopeful.

He pictures your coffeeshop and your face.

And he feels himself smiling widely.

Opening his phone, his fingers type faster than the wind:

Heading your way in 10 :)

.

That weekend, you go drinking together.

You’re both tipsy, sitting in a bar booth with your sides pressed together, and everything comes to head.

You’re both tipsy and warm, filters long lost, when San pours out the rest of the story to you. The side of the story that the wind in his ears usually hid in white noise.

It’s a euphoric story with deafeningly beautiful highs, but also a heartbreaking one with devastatingly ugly lows. But as he pours out the joys of standing on stage, of the laughter-filled, starlit walks back to the dorms, you know it was worth it to him.

And you also come to know, he didn’t choose to quit.

He keeps pouring drinks; keeps pouring out his emotional, earnest soul.

Midway through the night, your dulled head has just enough awareness to realize you are in love with that soul.

And as you have to wave away another glass, you will always hold onto the magnificent moment when he admits: “But I don’t feel sad about any of it when I’m with you.”

.

The next day, you wake up at your place. San’s lying beside you.

“Morning,” he groans.

If your head and body didn’t hurt so much, that alone would have inspired you to restart last night’s activities. 

“Everything hurts,” you groan.

“Same.”

Your legs are slightly brushing each others, but your torsos aren’t touching. It makes you feel sad. Then something in you melts when he shifts his weight closer to you so they are.

“Are”—you yawn—”we going to that… ugh…. waterfall today?”

“Not after last night.” He buries his face against your hair.

“Yeah…” Your head throbs, and you groan again. “That was a very bad idea, 0/10 would not recommend.”

San makes an offended sound in the back of his throat. “The alcohol or the sex?”

Yawning again, you can barely reply. “You know which one.”

He kisses your head and yawns as well. “Let’s do it again sometime.”

“Soon.”

“Soon?”

“But... not right now.”

After yawning together, he chuckles against your hair. “Yeah, sleep... for now.”

.

As you both close your eyes again, San can only hear two things:

One, the steady rhythm of your breathing.

Two, the soft hum of your ceiling fan.

He falls asleep knowing:

There’s no wind.

.

[ateez taglist] — @seongghwaa​ @s1ardusk​ @yunwoo​​ @toffee-hwa​ @yunhowhoitiss​ @sippn-the-tae​ @yeocult​ @barsformars​ (thank you for your support! I love y’all so much!!! <3 <3 <3)

[coldtacosaladwasntfound]

dissimilant • feral boys + oc series • 1

super powers au

I remember when I was at that age; everything changing, hormones rushing through your body. You know what most people don't associate with puberty? Fucking super powers.

It wasn't a surprise by any means. I'd been raised with the knowledge that eventually I'd get my powers. My parents are both dissimilant, so I was bound to get that gene. If I didn't gain any powers, I probably would've been disappointed; especially considering it's considered the best day of your life when you're like me.

I was maybe 11 years old when I realized I was dissimilant (also, off the record, what the hell is that title? Dissimilant? Like... dissimilar? Way to make me feel normal). I always expected something totally badass. Maybe I would get fire powers and be able to burn things to a crisp. Maybe I'd end up able to control electricity or something actually useful. But you know what I got stuck with? Healing. Of course healing abilities have their own benefits, but I don't wanna end up working in a dissimilant hospital for the rest of my life. I want to be on the frontlines, using my powers the way everyone else does.

The Dissimilant Association of Justice (DAJ) is a group of highly trained professionals who do all the work the government can't capitalize on. This generally is exclusively dissimilant crime, seeing as you can't put someone with beyond human abilities in a normal human made prison. How am I, a healer, supposed to be working as an agent with DAJ? It's dream I had to give up on almost as soon as I started training my abilities.

I hear something buzz. It catches my attention, causing me to look over from my laptop to my bedside table. I've been studying for an exam coming up (for college, not some cool super power school). It's not my phone, so it has to be my DT. A DT is a device you're given by "The Force"; a local dissimilant program that helps youth practice their abilities safely. Don't let the cool name fool you, it's just to distract you from how lame it actually is. The device is meant to let you know current news and information within the community, as well as let us access our progress.

I pick up my DT and look at the screen.

INCOMING MESSAGE

38.987124, -74.811566

What? These are definitely coordinates. I quickly type them into a search engine, my eyes scanning the results. The Wildwood Boardwalk? I have tons of questions. First, why am I being sent coordinates? Second, who's sending me coordinates? And last, when is someone sent coordinates that they shouldn't go to? I live a walk away from the beach, so the urge to check it out is strong... so I'm going to.

I've snuck out millions of times, this is hardly different. Just gotta go through the usual process of sneaking out as if I'm a 16 year old trying to go to a party and not a grown adult trying to... do whatever it is I'm doing. I grab my backpack and a jacket before opening my window, phone and DT in hand, and climbing out of my family's apartment through the fire escape. When I reach the ground, I put the numbers in my phone's GPS and make my way to my bike.

As I ride in the direction I'm told, I can't help but second guess what I'm doing. I'm going to coordinates sent to me by god knows who for crying out loud, this is a sketchy decision and I'll admit to that. Deep down, though, I just had this feeling that I needed to see what was there. I saw that message for a reason and I have to find out why. So I rode down to the boardwalk, stopping at the exact point of the coordinates and hopping off my bike.

There's nothing here. I looked around at the closed booths and rides, the beach only a few yards away. I saw a figure in the distance. It was getting closer, soon getting close enough to be recognizable as a person. My DT started buzzing again. I pulled it out of my pocket and read the words on the screen.

INCOMING MESSAGE

Arrived. Please wait for your teammates to arrive.

Teammates?

The person got closer, now fully visible to me. They pulled something out of their pocket. It illuminated their features with blue light as they looked at it. A DT. They made eye contact with me. "Uh, hello?" They stood about 2 feet in front of me, and I could now see them clearly. "I'm, uh, Alex."

"Alex? Why did you bring me here?" I question. He looks fairly normal to me. His beanie sits on top of his head of slightly messy hair, just a plain T-shirt and sweatpants on.

"I didn't bring you here. I thought you brought me here." He looks down at his DT again. "Do you have one of these?" He holds it up, showing the screen. The same text that was on mine was displayed on his.

I nod. "Yeah... that's a DT. It's what told me to come here here." I pull out my own to show him. "I guess we're teammates... whatever that means."

"I was actually hoping you knew what that means." I shake my head. Silence falls, almost like the two of us are waiting for something. Another voice quickly ends that and grabs our attention.

"Hey!" We both look over, seeing another guy walk up to us. "Who are you?" He seems to keep a distance. He also looks pretty average, blonde hair and green eyes plus a normal wardrobe for a guy his age.

Unsure what to respond with, beanie boy let's out a "Um, Alex?" like he's questioning his name.

"Jordan," I say, plain and simple. "We don't know why we're here. Do you?"

A look of what seems like slight confusion takes over his face. "I'm Clay. I wish I knew." I feel a bit disappointed at the lack of closure.

"Let me guess, your DT got your here?" He nods, looking surprised at my knowledge of what a DT is. "Okay, so we're all dissimilant. That's a start."

"This is epic and all, but I can't shake the feeling that we shouldn't be here," Alex admits.

"Considering the circumstances, who knows if we even have a choice," Clay says.

"He makes a good point," I agree. All of our DTs buzz in sync, causing us to look at the newest message.

INCOMING MESSAGE

3/6 teammates arrived. New location pending.

"What does that mean?" Alex rhetorically questions.

"I guess we're gonna be moving soon." Clay stays silent, probably thinking. "The sooner we have everyone on our 'team' the sooner we get answers."

"I can't tell if I want answers or out of this." We look to Alex as he speaks.

"Something tells me you're not gonna get one without the other," Clay says.

INCOMING MESSAGE

38.977922, -74.823873

The three of us all check the notification, seeing exactly what I expected. I type the coordinates into my phone, the address of a hotel coming up. "It's the Adventurer Oceanfront Inn, a 20 minute walk," I read off of the screen.

"Guys, I think I made a mistake coming out here," Alex says. "This all seems so sketchy."

"We need you to help us find answers. Plus, you came all the way out here, you don't wanna know what's going on?" I push. "There's two more people. Let's go find them."

"I agree," Clay says. "We're already here, we might as well."

I get on my bike, and start my GPS. "I'll lead the way, let's go." Without objection, the guys follow me as I try to ride at a slower speed. "We're gonna be traveling for a bit, we might as well get to know each other." They nod in agreement.

"I'll go first then," Alex starts. "I'm Alex, I'm 20, and I have mind powers, because I'm just so incredible." Clay rolls his eyes before talking.

"I'm Clay, I'm 22, and I have superhuman strength... because I'm even more incredible." I wouldn't have pegged him as the type to have super strength, or the type to be phased by a cocky comment like the other guy's.

"I'm Jordan, I'm 21, and I'm a healer," I introduce myself. "Not so incredible."

"Who says? Healing powers are super useful," Clay reassures me.

"Not when you wanna be an agent." Clay gives me a weird look. "What?"

"Be grateful, you have an actually helpful power. So what if you can't be an agent?" I roll my eyes at his obvious lack of understanding. He has super strength for gods sake.

"Easy for you to say, you could be an agent without even trying." He lets the discussion stop there, looking ahead of us at the empty street.

"I think your powers are cool, Jordan," Alex says, breaking the silence.

"Thanks." The conversation falls flat again, and nobody picks it back up. It's just the atmospheric noises of Wildwood, New Jersey at 2 am. I guess this gives me some time to think about what exactly I'm doing right now.

I'm out of the house in the middle of the night, guiding some random people to a hotel because the coordinates on our 'superhero' devices said so. We could be about to get kidnapped, but also, why would a kidnapper lead us to a location that's open 24/7? I guess we're about to find out.

"So, mind powers? Show us," Clay says to Alex, a 'prove it' tone in his voice. How immature.

"See, uh... I can't really do that." The blonde quirks a brow in question. "It's triggered by my feelings, I can't just do it whenever I want to."

"Lame," He remarks, childishly.

"Shut up, it's not lame!" Alex says in defense.

"It totally is."

"Shut your trap, blondie, you're being a menace," I butt in, stopping a possible quarrel in it's tracks. With that, both of the boys quiet down. I glance down at my GPS, seeing the time estimate says there's only 10 minutes left of our journey. "We have 10 minutes left, I don't want either of you scaring off whoever we meet."

"I'm not scary at all, you should be talking to Mr. Bully over here," Alex jokes.

"I'm talking to both of you," I say, letting out a sigh of annoyance.

After traveling for another 10 minutes, we reach the parking lot of the hotel. We see three guys conversing by the entrance.

INCOMING MESSAGE

Arrived. 6/6 teammates arrived. Approach.

They pull a device out of each of their pockets and look at the screen before their eyes find us. I get off of my bike and walk forward with the other boys. "I'm Jordan. This is Alex and Clay. Who are you?" I say, skipping any other formalities.

They all look fairly normal, although one of them looks like he actually got dressed to come here. One of them speaks up, "I'm... Sapnap. You can call me that." I try to think of why he'd pick that as a nickname before just ignoring it.

"Karl," the dressed one says. He seems nervous.

"I'm George... why are we here?"

I can't help but snicker at how many times I've heard that question tonight. "Who fucking knows."

"What she means is, we're not sure either," Clay says, finally talking to them. Alex seems to be distracted, staring off at a phone booth.

"Guys... I know this may sound weird, but I think we need to go in the phone booth," He says, still staring off. We all look him weirdly. He walks off towards it, me following after him to see what he's on about. He steps inside it, waiting a second, his hands on the walls. Before he can do or say anything, the floor beneath him suddenly disappears. He yells out, drawing the attention of the group.

"Alex!" I scream out. I look at the boys before making a decision. "We have to jump down after him!"

"Are you crazy?" Clay says in attempt to stop me.

I let out a nervous breath. "You know what... I think I am." I jump down after him, hearing my name being called after me but only seeing darkness.

[basicbrittiknow]

Advice To My Younger Self

Hey guys!! I hope everyone had a marvelous week and an even better weekend!!

Last week, I got some homework done, Friday I went to the drive-in with one of my best friends, to see Grease, which was such a cute time, and such an awesome way to get me out of the house!!

Today is Monday, August 17, 2020 and the topic of “things I would tell my younger self” popped into my brain on Friday, so I not only want to share some things I would’ve told myself when I was younger but I want to hear from you!! Please, share with me some things you would have told your younger self. 

I am 25, but I, by no means, know everything!! I have so much life left to live and so much more to learn. But that’s what this blog is all about right? Living, learning and growing together!! 

So let’s dive in, shall we?!

First order of business, school, or specifically, college. I don’t know about you, but college has always been apart of the plan for me. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t include college in my post high school plans. However, the plans I had for myself and the plans life had for me were two different things. When I graduated high school, I did go to college, but it wasn’t the college that I so excitedly looked forward to it was community college. *SIDE NOTE* There is absolutely nothing wrong with community college!! In fact, looking back, I wasn’t ready, in the slightest, to attend a University!! I was right where I needed to be!! And if I could go back in time, I would have done everything the exact same way. Because my time at community college allowed me to grow as a person and student, it gave me the time to become a more independent and responsible young adult, and it showed me that my future really is up to me, whether or not I sink or swim, is up to me 

So what would I tell my younger self about school? I would tell myself to work hard and stay focused, because everything works out the way it’s supposed to and in it’s own time. I would tell my younger self not to worry so much about what comes next, because everything will be just fine!!

Next up, let’s talk about relationships!! Relationships come in all types of forms: familial, platonic, professional, and of course, romantic. While different elements make up the different types of relationships, I have the same message for all of them, and that is, if the relationship doesn’t POSITIVELY affect you, let it go!! I’m not saying that if things aren’t always smooth sailing, never without a problem, walk away, because in that case, you may find yourself alone majority of the time. But I am saying that if a relationship of any kind leaves you upset, emotionally drained, fearful and unsure of yourself, walk away!! You’ll thank yourself later!! Trust me, I know it’s a lot easier said than done, but please!! Find it in yourself to leave alone those people who bring uncertainty, toxicity (yes, family can be toxic too) and unhappiness to you. I promise, there are better days and better people ahead.

I would have told my younger self all of these things regarding relationships, but I would have included “speak up for yourself”, which is something that I still struggle with!!But it is also something that has led to so many fall outs. If someone has a problem with you speaking up for yourself. for defending yourself, for being strong for yourself, for being yourself, those people are not meant to be in your life, and unworthy to do so. LET THEM GO!! You’ll be so much happier in the long run ;)

Next, goals/aspirations. When I was 18 and graduating high school, even beyond that age, well into my early twenties, nothing made me happier, more excited, than the thought of being young, rich and famous!! I wanted to be a super famous singer and tour with One Direction (they were so in at the time), and I was certain that that would be how Harry Styles and I would meet, fall in love and live happily ever after. *SIDE NOTE* If fame and fortune is your dream, YOU GO GIRL/BOY!! Chase that dream and work hard for it, and I know you can achieve it!! However, if you’re like me, and your dreams/goals/ambitions change every day, that’s okay too!! 

Ever heard that saying “A dream is a wish your heart makes.” by the famous Cinderella? That wish that your heart is making could be for the near or even distant future. Meaning between now and the time your wish comes true, it is perfectly fine to have a change of heart, to change up your plans!!

My advice to my younger self, and my advice to you, reading this, is to pursue whatever it is that sets your soul on fire in the best way. Pursue what makes you happy, pursue whatever it is that makes you excited to get out of bed in the morning!! 

It is a little scary and unnerving not having every little detail of your life figured out, at least for me it is, but the truth is, nobody has all of the answers, nobody has it all figured out, and that’s okay!!

Now, let’s talk about sex baby!! Freshman, 15 year old Brittany swore up and down she had met the one. I just knew I had met the boy I would marry, have a family with and share all the special firsts everyone experiences. I knew all of this at 15 and I was so wrong at 15!! Fast forward, 10 years later, and there have been at least 3 or 4 or 5 more guys (I’ve been a little less focused on the important stuff in the past) who I thought the same thing of. And guess what, I was wrong EVERY SINGLE TIME!! So here we are, age 25, still single, still waiting to experience all the special things with my very own special person, but I’m okay!!

The thought of being 25 and single with not even ONE prospect, at 15, made me cringe!! There was NO WAY!! It just wasn’t going to be, at least not for 15 year old me. 

While my journey to loving and embracing all the lessons and freedoms of single life hasn’t been smooth, fun, quick or consistent, RIGHT NOW, I’m very clear headed and I view the “single journey” if you will as such a magnificent, at times lonely, but overall wonderful time of self-discovery!! I learn something new about myself, and about life everyday, and I’m having so much fun!!

I say all of this to say, if I could talk t my younger self, knowing what I know now, I would tell myself to embrace every experience you have as a single person, learn all that you can while you can, and as far as sex? Wait until you meet the person that looks at you like you’re the only person in the room, like you’re the most important person in the room. Wait until you meet the person you KNOW will be there in the morning, not the one you HOPE will be there in the morning. Wait until you’ve found the person who is every cheesy but lovely cliche you can think of. WAIT!! It may not be easy, it may not be fun, but 25 year old Brittany promises, it ill be soooooo worth it. I don’t know everything, but the whole point of this blog is to live, learn and grow together, right? So that’s that on that!! MOVING ON!!

FEARS... fears have been something that I’ve come to be extremely familiar with since 2013, the year I graduated high school. From what class to take next, to what job to apply for and accept, to what purchase to make with this week’s paycheck, I live very cautiously, I must admit!! But living cautiously and living fearfully are two different things!! Being afraid is totally normal, everyone has fears. HOWEVER, in the words of the late great Babe Ruth, “Don’t let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game.”

My life has been nothing short of beautiful, oozing with small victories, *Humble brag* and I refuse to believe it will be any less beautiful in the years to come. Life hasn’t always dealt me the best cards, but my life has been so amazing and beautiful because I never let fear control me and my decisions; even if I failed, I still took a chance, I didn’t let fear prevent me from at least cracking the door of opportunity. 

So in knowing all that I do not, I would tell my younger self to be afraid, cry and even hesitate if you want, but when you’re done freaking out, do what scares you anyway!! Because you never know what excitement lies on the other side of fear.

And finally, the future!! To sit here and say that the thought of the future, with all of it’s uncertainty and inevitable change, doesn’t cause alarm in me from time to time, would be a lie. It’s August; who would have thought that back in March, I’d still be unemployed, 5 months later, due to the pandemic? Had you told me that this was what would happen I would have started job hunting THEN!! 

My point is, none of us know what the near and/or distant future holds for us. So live for right now, as cheesy, cliche and played out as that sounds!! Putting my own twist on it... “Live for right now, but also live for the person you’ll be in 5, 15, 20 years. Make good, fun decisions and memories that future you will be proud of and even benefit from. I’m only just now learning that, but if I could tell my younger self anything regarding the future, it would be this. Live every day so that in years to come, you can look back and smile proudly!!

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine one-shot “Under the Boardwalk” (Rated G)

Summary:

After overhearing some bad news, Kurt leaves his parents in their hotel room and goes for a walk … but he gets lost. Eventually he stumbles upon a stranger who points him in the right direction is a number of ways. (2883 words)

Kid!fic inspired by the beginning of the movie Beaches. Takes place in the late 50s.

Read on AO3.

Kurt doesn’t know where he is.

He didn’t expect to get this far.

Of course, he wasn’t really thinking when he left. He just needed a break. So he thought, once up and down the boardwalk. That’s all. He’d aim for as far as Nathan’s Hot Dog stand, turn around and come back. It was a straight shot. No chance of getting lost. This was the same walk they’d taken yesterday. It was a no-brainer. But after a while, everything started to look the same – every store front, every lifeguard station, every food cart.

He’d walked straight! Perfectly straight!

Or so he thought.

He never made it to Nathan’s. And now, caught in the bustle of people mobbing the beach, playing carnival games, and eating food he normally wouldn’t touch but which smells heavenly to his starving stomach, he has no clue how to get anywhere. He becomes frantic, anxiety welling up within him, filling his chest until there’s no room for anything, even his racing heart. He considers yelling for his mom and dad, but seeing as they didn’t come with him that would be no use. They’ve probably discovered he’s gone by now and are worried sick – another unnecessary load heaped on to their pile of stress. And Kurt … well, Kurt might as well dig himself a cave in the sand because this is where he’s going to live from now on.

Lost and exhausted, his feet aching and the back of his neck burning, he walks over to the stairs leading down to the beach. And even though he’s not a big fan of sitting on anything thousands of human shoe soles have touched, he drops down onto the warped wood and begins to sob.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” he mutters. “Whining like a baby! You’re eleven-years-old, Kurt! Grow up!” He sniffs, wiping at his wet cheeks with the back of his hand.

“Hey!”

Kurt’s head shoots up when he hears a voice call out. There are tons of people on the beach today, and lots of people calling hey, but for some reason, Kurt feels like this particular hey is directed at him.

“Hey! You up there!”

The voice is closer now, but the fact that it’s coming from underneath his butt pretty much cinches it. He looks down between his legs, through the space between the steps, and sees a face staring up at him.

“Jesus!” Kurt screams, leaping to his feet. He stumbles down the steps, landing on his butt in the sand.

“Oh, hey! Are you okay?”

Kurt peers into the grey-gold shadows underneath the boardwalk and sees the face with body attached running towards him.

“You lost or somethin’, kid?”

Kid? Kurt stares at the boy wearing a black leather jacket and blue jeans – at the beach, of all places! - thinking he can’t be any older than he is. In fact, Kurt’s sure he’s older, if only by a day. Kurt stares at the boy in a daze, unsure what to do when he reaches a hand out to him. His parents warned him never to talk to strangers. But he’s frightened and he’s desperate.

And he could really use a friend.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am,” Kurt says, taking the boy’s hand, letting him help him to his feet.

“Where’re your folks?” he asks, eyes sweeping the beach and the boardwalk behind them as if he’s going to be able to pinpoint Kurt’s parents even though he’s never seen them before in his life.

“They’re back at our room.”

The boy beckons Kurt under the boardwalk, and whether it’s a smart decision or not, Kurt follows. With the skin on his neck and scalp screaming from the heat, he needs to get out of the sun.

“You shouldn’t be here alone. This place ain’t exactly the safest, even in the daytime.” The boy falls down onto a small blanket covering the sand and crosses his legs. He looks Kurt up and down, his lips curling. “You must be from outta town, cuz you’ve got fresh meat written all over you.”

Kurt glances down at his shirt as if checking to see if something he didn’t notice before is actually written there, and the boy smiles.

“My name’s Blaine. Blaine Anderson,” the boy says. His eyelids narrow as he asks, “You wouldn’t have heard of me before by any chance … would you?”

“I don’t think so. But you’ve probably never heard of me before, either.” Kurt kneels on the blanket and sticks out his hand. “I’m Kurt Hummel.”

“Yeah, you are!” Blaine laughs, slapping Kurt’s hand instead of shaking it, and Kurt rolls his eyes. Blaine is teasing, but he’s not being mean. “Maybe I can help you. I sort of live here.”

“Under the boardwalk?”

“No. In Jersey. Where are you staying?”

“I … I don’t know. It’s not a hotel. It’s more of a bungalow? A group of them, right off the beach. There’s a fountain in the middle with a mermaid playing the flute … and it’s by a restaurant …”

Blaine whistles. “You’re staying at the Shore Cottages. Not too shabby. Your folks have money?”

“No,” Kurt replies, taken back, wondering if giving Blaine this much information was a mistake. His father warned him that criminals often employ kids to pickpocket for them. Could Blaine be one of those? In his leather jacket and jeans, hair slicked back like James Dean, he definitely looks the part, but maybe that’s a big clue that he’s not one. He’s too obvious. “In fact, this is the first vacation we’ve ever taken out of state. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen the beach.” Kurt looks down at the blanket beneath his knees. It’s torn and frayed, off-white in places when it should be bright, and faded around the edges, burnt from the sun. Kurt has to wonder if Blaine brought this blanket with him or if he just found it here. “It’s the first time for a lot of things.”

“What’s the big occasion?”

Kurt chews around the words before he says them, trying to make his mouth form them into something different. Something better. But he can’t change reality. He can only live with it.

“My mother’s sick. She’s more than sick. She’s … she’s dying. I just found out today.”

Blaine looks aghast. “You mean to tell me your folks brought you out here for your first ever summer vacation by the shore just to tell you your mom’s sick?” Blaine shakes his head disapprovingly. “That’s cold.”

“No!” Kurt rushes to defend his parents with tears welling in his eyes. “No, that’s not … they didn’t tell me. I overheard my mom and dad talking, and she said a word …”

Blaine is on the brink of asking what word?, but the way Kurt bites his lips together and closes his eyes, as if shutting out the world might shut out the truth, Blaine already knows.

His grandfather died of cancer a few years ago. When they first found out, his mom often made that same face. But his grandfather was in his seventies. He’d lived a long, happy life, watched his children grow into adults, get married, start lives of their own.

Kurt’s mother can’t be older than Blaine’s, and she’s only in her forties.

“The thing is, I think I’ve known for a while,” Kurt admits.

“How?”

Kurt shrugs. “In little ways. My mom started getting colds a lot, and it always takes her forever to get over them. She’s tired all the time, she has these scary coughing fits, she …” He stops, feeling more hopeless now than when he left. “I don’t think they know how to tell me. I think my mom and dad wanted us to have this last summer together before they had to deal with it. You know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Blaine inches closer – close enough that the fingers of his left hand are only a hair or so away from Kurt’s right. “That’s rough. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” Kurt nods into the companionable silence, gaze fixed on the ocean – calm to his eyes, but he can hear the waves crashing beneath the slope of the beach in front of him. That’s how his parents have been, he realizes – calm and happy on the outside for his benefit when, on the inside, they’ve probably been screaming.

“How long you guys stayin’ out here for?” Blaine asks.

“Two weeks. And when we get home, we’re buying a house closer to the hospital where my mom’s getting her care. I heard them say they’re going to take me out of school, move me away from the only friends I have to some place two hours away! I’m going to some dumb old school called … Daiton Prep?” Kurt squints at the sunlight streaming through the slats in the wood walkway above them as he tries to remember what his father called it. “Dyson Prep? Di … Dover Prep?”

Blaine leans in questioningly. “Dalton Prep?”

Kurt snaps his fingers. “That’s it! Dalton Prep?” He turns to Blaine, tilting his head suspiciously. “How did you know?”

“I live here, but I’m not from here. I’m a Buckeye, too. From Westerville. My brother and I came out here ‘temporarily’ (*air-quotes applied*) after I won the Kings Island Variety Show.”

“I’ve seen that!” Kurt says in awe. “They air it on TV! That must have been so exciting! You must be really talented!”

“Well …” Blaine blushes, rolling his head away so Kurt won’t see “… you know, for a seasoned performer like myself, it’s just another day at the office.”

“So, what’s your talent?” Kurt asks, but hurrying to guess before Blaine can answer. “I know! You’re a tap dancer! No … a ventriloquist!”

Blaine’s bashful smile crashes like the waves on the shore below them.

“No, I’m a singer. I do a mini-Elvis routine down at the Nickelodeon that brings the house down, if I do say so myself.”

“A singer? Wow! I—I want to be a singer someday. Except, I want to perform in musicals.”

“Do you?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s my biggest dream ever!”

Blaine nibbles his lower lip, considering the boy in front of him, thinking so heavily it shows on his face. “You know, Dalton Prep is the starter school for Dalton Academy. And they have a singing group called The Warblers. They’re kind of like rock stars. Scouts go to their performances and everything! Guys who’ve sung with them have gone on to tour, cut records, even sing on Broadway!”

Kurt’s eyes go wide. “Broadway?”

“Uh-huh. It’s a really good school.”

“I guess … that’s not so bad.”

“No, it isn’t. There’re definitely way worse places in the world, you know.”

“I do.” Kurt nods soberly. “At my school, I get bullied a lot.”

“There, you see? That won’t happen at Dalton. They have a policy – no bullying allowed. And they’re very strict about it.”

“That does sound nice,” Kurt admits, but his gaze drops to his hands again. “But I still won’t know anyone there. And … I don’t make friends very easily. People seem to think I’m weird.”

Blaine puts his head on Kurt’s shoulder and blinks up at him ridiculously, making Kurt giggle. “You’ve got me. And I’m weird, too! We’re a matching set!”

“Blaine! Blaine!”

“Ugh!” Blaine moans, dropping his head off Kurt’s shoulder and into his sand-covered hand.

“Who … who’s that?”

“The warden – a.k.a my big brother, Cooper.”

“Blaine! Where the hell are ya, kid?” The boardwalk above them rattles with the weight of running feet, knocking loose sand that rains down on them. Those same feet barrel down the steps and stop not too far from them. A man wearing jeans and a white tank top spins in a full circle. He stops, brilliant blue eyes (odd to Kurt since Blaine’s are hazel) staring straight at them. It must take a moment for his vision to adjust since he doesn’t seem to see them right away. He throws his arms in the air when he does. “Blaine! Jesus Christ, kid, you scared the life outta me! You’ve really gotta stop runnin’ off like that!”

“It’s a good thing I did because this guy here’s hella lost.”

Cooper only seems to notice Kurt when Blaine mentions him. “Really?”

“Yup. And if I wasn’t here, who knows where he’d’uv ended up. He’s not from around here.”

Cooper’s head bounces back and forth, deciding what to do with that information. When it reaches his right shoulder for the third time, he shrugs. “Well, ok. Let’s get him back to his folks and then you and I need to go back to the theater and practice. You’ve got a spotlight comin’ up in three days and, not to be mean or anythin’, but your footwork sucks! Uh …” He shoots a guilty look at Kurt. “I mean, stinks. Sorry, kid.”

“It’s alright,” Kurt says, mildly amused by the banter between these two siblings – one because Kurt is an only child, and two because Cooper has to be close to twice Blaine’s age!

“About that …” Blaine looks down at the sand, that thoughtful look returning to his face. “I was thinking that maybe we could go back home. See mom and dad. And maybe … I could go back to Dalton?”

Cooper’s jaw drops. He stares at Blaine like he suggested finding the closest sharp object and cutting off his own foot.

“I … I don’t think I heard you right there, squirt,” he says, side-stepping closer with a hand cupped to his ear. “Could you give me that again?”

“I said I don’t want to play the Nickelodeon anymore! It’s tired and it’s getting old. I wanna go home.”

Kurt had heard him the first time, but hearing Blaine repeat it makes his jaw drop, too. Blaine didn’t necessarily make it sound like he was living the dream out here, but he gets to perform in front of audiences who pay to see him! Who in the world would give that up? And why?

But it sounds like he hasn’t seen his folks in a while. Missing them might make him throw in the towel.

It would for Kurt.

“So what you’re saying is you wanna leave all this behind, your whole career as a performer, to go back to boring Ohio, let mom and dad shove you in a stiff, itchy uniform, and stick you back in Dalton Prep?”

Blaine nods dramatically. “Yes, Cooper. That’s exactly what I’m sayin’.”

Cooper throws his hands in the air again, but he doesn’t seem exasperated this time. He looks relieved. “Finally! God Almighty! I’m getting’ so sick of Jersey! I can’t wait to leave this place in my rearview! In fact, I’m marchin’ right down to that roach infested shack they call a theater and …”

“Coop?”

“… tell that cauliflower-eared mutant of a manager …”

“Cooper?”

“… that the Anderson boys are done working for peanuts!”

“COOP!”

Kurt deflates into a mass of laughter when Blaine’s voice cracks, which Blaine catches, and he starts laughing, too.

“Yeah, squirt?”

“Let’s leave on good terms. I mean, you never know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Give them two weeks’ notice. Have them cut us out of the schedule slowly,” he says, throwing Kurt a subtle wink. “That way we can pad our pockets a little more and spend some time on the beach. We haven’t really done that since we moved out here. It’d be nice to have somethin’ like a real vacation.”

“Yeah …” Cooper points emphatically at his brother for his great idea. “That’s the ticket, little bro. When did you get so smart?”

“I must have learned it from you, Coop,” Blaine says in a deadpanned tone Kurt suspects comes from repeatedly answering this question that same way, like it’s the only acceptable response.

“You’re darn tootin’. Come on. Let’s get your friend back to his folks and then we can work on that footwork.”

“Sure thing.” Blaine gets up first, taking a step or two downwind before he brushes off his jeans. “You comin’, Kurt?”

“Yeah,” Kurt says, doing the same. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

Kurt’s eyes burn something fierce when he steps out into the light, but he doesn’t feel so hopeless or heavy anymore. His mom’s still sick. He can’t get away from that, no matter how far down the beach he walks. But now he has a friend, someone he’s already shared that with, by his side. Someone he’ll know when he goes to school in the fall. Which makes Kurt curious:

“Did you … do that for me?”

“Eh, you know …” Blaine looks over at the ocean since he can’t keep the truth off his face if he tried “… I’m getting kind of tired of playing nickel and dime shows. We get practically no money. And the only way I can get any kind of a break is if I run off. It’ll be nice to go home and see my old friends again …” He bumps Kurt’s shoulder and smiles “… hang around with some new ones. Doesn’t sound so bad, does it?”

“No.” Kurt follows Blaine as he speeds ahead of Cooper, leading the way. “Doesn’t sound so bad at all.”

[haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles]

anonymous asked:  How would you feel about an Avatar AU? I’d love to see what element, or if a character is a non-bender, you feel would match your favourite characters in HQ!

oh-HO. i am unsure if you know that Avatar is one of my all-time favorite shows so when i saw this ask i was pumped!!! without further ado: i finally had some inspiration. i took this a bit farther than just my fav characters (i did as many as i could think of) and although i say in my rules i don’t do hc’s i felt this ask was best answered in that format so i did my best! i hope you enjoy 😁 im nervous as hell about headcanons 😬 some i have reasons for (serious or funny) and others i just...have a feeling 

special shoutout to my discord fam that i love so dearly and especially to @animelake13 and @justoverseas for helping me out 💕💕

Karasuno:

Daichi:

Alright with those thighs and that dependability?? Earthbender through and through

He is a rock solid, all-around player that holds Karasuno all together

he is their BASE, stable as fuck

he didn’t get those thighs from nothing he got them kicking around some boulders

didnt get those arms from nothing either, punching rocks out of mountainsides

Suga:

Waterbender for sure

Hello? Mr. Refreshing

Very calm and level-headed, but like Katara: DO NOT. FUCK WITH HIM.

He’ll fuck you up

again like Katara, mom friend, supporting the whole team, caring a lot about them and getting ready to fight and ready to jump in and help at a moments notice

Asahi: (Thanks Louie!)

ok so this boy was hard to decide bc, he’s a nervous bean but also the motherfuckin ace so he ain’t playin around

so i decided on earthbender because, he’s a big boi; a powerful and all-around player that has the respect of his teammates

and although he’s nervous, so maybe he doesn’t use earthbending to the extent of other benders but when he needs to, he will

and when he does it has impact and he is a pretty strong earthbender to boot

he can move fucking mountains when he wants to

member of the white lotus bc he only uses his immense power when he absolutely has to

noya: “asahi!! show us your bending”

asahi: “oh im not much of a bender”

MOVES A CONTINENT

Noya:

While my first instinct was firebender

the more i thought about it the more airbender made sense

air is the element of freedom and Noya is the definition of wild and free

not only that but his position too! airbending is almost purely defensive

sounds like our guardian diety to me

also can u imagine

Noya and Hinata racing like maniacs on air scooters

Daichi throwing up barriers all over the place to stop them but they just nyoom around them like obstacles

airbending is all about circles too and roooooolllliiiinnnng (hehe) thunder!!!

Tanaka:

alrighty well here is Karasuno’s firebender

Firebending is known for its intense and aggressive attacking style and literally

Tanaka yells like a maniac anytime he goes in for a spike

and firebenders can be hotheaded (dont have to be, Iroh for example) BUT say anything about Kiyoko, Karasuno or really anything and he’s ready to throw down

it might be all talk but he still gets fucking triggered

he fires up two flames in his palms and makes that face “ehhh what did you say about our lovely Kiyoko-san?!?”

Enno:

airbender

he has such patience and probably mediates or something 

or else he’d go crazy from Tanaka and Noya doing stupid airbender/firebender shit and burning down the entire town 

deals it out when he needs to, sometimes blowing Tanaka and Noya to opposite sides of the room and pinning them there until they calm the fuck down

anytime Tanaka gets too heated, Enno just shows up and blows out his fire 

Hinata:

ok so i kinda spoiled earlier

but airbender

i know airbending is defensive and Hinata sucks at that aspect, but his personality man, airbender all the way

again imagine him and Noya zooming on air scooters around

they would be a MENANCE

but also in the same sense, airbending is all about finding a way around the “normal” way of fighting (they refuse to harm anything is what i mean)

Hinata had to find his own way of fighting in volleyball and yeah…airbender  

possibly bc he’s a bit of an airhead too  

Kageyama:

WATERBENDER BUT WITH BLOODBENDING BACKGROUND

ok hear me out

he used to want to control people and make them do what he wants, otherwise get rid of them bc they’re useless and who needs ‘em

but then he meets this stupid, bounce off the walls, airbender who he doesn’t need to control bc this kid already does what he couldnt find in anyone else

and he slowly learns to stop using bloodbending, sometimes slips and lapses, but for the most part has left that part of him behind

also water is the element of change and Kageyama certainly goes through a major change in character throughout Haikyuu

everytime Hina and him fight, they make a snowstorm that nobody can stop and it pisses Tsukki off bc he can’t do anything about it

Tsukki: (props to Lake for this one)

tsukki why are you an enigma

nonbender and is a sword master 

with his ability to analyze and control, he would heckin destroy 

sword fights are a lot about watching your opponent and being able to make a quick decision to block or counter attack 

he can definitely make decisions at the drop of a hat and his strategies work and work well 

Yamaguchi:

THIS BOY

IS A WATERBENDER BUT SPECIALIZES IN HEALING

when Karasuno needs him most!!! he’s there!! ready to help and get his team back on his feet, in this sense by healing them

and also like Suga, mirroring Katara, don’t fuck with him. especially when it comes to Tsukki

AGAIN like Katara/Suga, mom friend, there to support all the time and bust in and help when needed

More teams under the cut!

Aoba Johsai:

Oikawa:

so there’s a bit of a trend here i see

but Oikawa would also be a waterbender, i guess it’s a setter thing

water is the element of change and Oikawa adjusts his setting style and approach for each of his team members to bring out the best of them

waterbenders let their defense become their offense turning their opponents own forces against them which i think fits Oikawa to a T

can make ice spikes he can throw long distances with scary accurate precision

like, one can just zip past your ear, and you dont see him anywhere where tf is he?!

Iwaizumi: 

i couldn’t decide between firebender and earthbender

so i went with the lovely mix, lavabender 

just like Toph, Iwa shows his affection through some sort of violence, but thats just cause he cares a lot

oikawa has mastered the art of distinguishing flaming hunks of smoldering rock thrown at his face

also stubborn unmoving like a rock

and when he gets heated, he is fired up

and finally, arms. where did he get ‘em? throwing boulders around. 

Shiratorizawa:

Ushijima:

metalbender, bc he’s definitely an earth bender but there’s something special about him

he’s a little dense (ok maybe not a little)

Earthbenders are generally muscular, tough and direct AND HELLO. thats Ushijima in a nutshell 

Tendou:

our guess monster is definitely a non-bender

like ty lee specializes in chi-blocking 

he can disrupt someones chi pretty easily making them completely helpless 

sometimes he does it to be funny 

like make Ushi’s right arm useless for a day 

and Ushi is like “Tendou. I don’t use that arm anyways.” 

“i knoooooooow Wakatoshi thats the point!”

which for some reason Tendou thinks is hilarious cause now he really cant use it 

Semi:

firebender

mainly bc of his hotheaded and competitive behavior 

his desire to show his abilities in his words is “uncontainable” and that kind of made me think of Azula 

wants to show off and be the best 

Shirabu:

so although Shirabu is also extremely hot-headed, he hits me as a waterbender too 

maybe just because every single setter so far has been a waterbender but its just my gut feeling 🤷

Nekoma:

Kuroo:

firebender but can lightning bend

dont ask me why it just seems right

he has the concentration and flow it takes to lightning bend, i mean he has that whole speech he gives to his team before every game 

“We're like the blood in our veins. We must flow without stopping. Keep the oxygen moving and your mind working.” 

and while this may lead to possibly thinking he could be a waterbender, he uses his knack for fluid motion and deceptive strength for a different purpose

not only can he lightning bend, he can redirect lightning which takes an immense amount of skill and is drawn from waterbending techniques

maybe its also the hair cause it looks like he got hit by lightning

Kenma:

ill be honest, i dont think Kenma would be a bender

what he would be ilike is Sokka, super smart, the strategizer, the man with the plan

who people look to for the next step, the brain of the operation

and i dont think he’d necessarily have a speciality besides overwhelming ability to observe and make decisions

so basically…he’d be the same LOL

Yaku:

earthbender

being small (dont kick me Yaku) means nothing (uhh have you seen Toph?)

super dependable and not gunna take anyone’s shit

Yamamoto:

Tanaka’s counterpart

his homeboy

his fellow firebender

both ready to throwdown at a moments notice

Fukurodani: (wow i suck i dont know anyone well enough but these two)

Bokuto:

did someone say airbender??

i just keep imagining he was the one to teach Hinata the air scooter and they fuckin zoom around while Bokuto is hollering at the top of his lungs

his hair already looks winblown, like he just stepped off his glider and doesn’t bother to fix it

also im cackling bc airbenders prefer evasive manuevers and…i keep thinking about that time he ran away from a block and Akaashi called him out for it

Akaashi: (ily Lake for helping)

so apparently setters are waterbenders

bc this boy is definitely one

he has nice fingers (weird i know) but i can see him just making these beautiful hand motions to bend water and hnngg yes

ok but in a more real way, waterbenders have strong fluid motion and understand those around them, they believe in very strong connections between individuals 

so even when Bo is out of the game, Fukurodani doesn’t fall apart because they have strong connections and can survive without him 

[mr-entj]

Hi mr-entj, I appreciate the care and time you put into this blog. I am grateful to have found it. Do you have advice on how a 17 y/o without work experience and who is barely entering college can start developing skills for leadership? I would like to eventually be a leader in my field in the future although I know not now what it is. Thank you immensely for your time.

4 leadership (and social) skills to start developing now:

1. Learn to push without being pushy. In other words, learn to get things done without pissing people off. While in a position of power, let’s say, as a group leader, can you get other people on the same page, mobilize them, and achieve a shared goal without having to drag them by the feet kicking and screaming? Can you inspire people to do things of their own volition? This is important because leaders need to give clear structure, direction, and vision without micromanaging their team. It wastes a lot of time and energy to babysit other people. There’s a reason why the CEO of Toyota isn’t sitting in a Toyota factory staring at the automobile mechanics– he has to be able to get things done without hovering. 

To practice this, I learned to be patient– that was the biggest part of it. I had to learn and accept that people worked in different ways, and that if I adapted to them I’d get things done faster than trying to change who they fundamentally were. I also emphasized my communication and coaching skills so that I could be a good teacher. The more I could teach other people how to get things done, the more empowered and effective they were at getting it done.

2. Learn to be comfortable being uncomfortable. Self-explanatory. Expose yourself to new environments, roles, and responsibilities. My rule of thumb is that you should always put yourself in positions where you’re a little bit unsure of what to do– this means there’s something to learn which means there’s room to grow. If you’re doing a task where everything is 100% calm, easy, and predictable then it’s already been mastered and it’s time to move on to something new. Over time, this habit builds courage to step outside your comfort zone and make decisions that may be scary now but will yield great outcomes later.

3. Learn to influence without authority. While not in a position of power where you have no control over another person or group of people, can you negotiate and collaborate with them to achieve a goal without using manipulation? To practice this, I interned and volunteered in organizations where I didn’t work but still contributed opinions and ideas, I helped organize and manage campus events where I depended on other people to help me succeed, and I played team sports and games where success had to be a team effort. I put myself in positions where I wasn’t the top dog but I wanted my input to still influence outcomes.

4. Learn to positively deliver negative information. Can you give constructive criticism without triggering resentment? Can you be the messenger without getting killed? This will be important in the future when giving feedback and coaching other people. Things won’t always be rainbows and butterflies so how a leader navigates and communicates really awful and difficult news is important to preserving morale. This is also 99.9% a communication, tone, and diction issue which MBTI helped refine. 

Before giving negative information, I made sure to establish strong relationships of trust with other people. People don’t like hearing bad news, this is obvious, but they’re generally more receptive to it if they feel the other person has their best interests in mind. Learn to frame negative news in a positive light without obscuring the facts: “We didn’t do well this year because of XYZ, but it’s not the end of the world and I have ideas on how to solve the issue.” Part of developing this skill is learning to put yourself in the other person’s shoes to understand their strengths, weaknesses, fears, hopes, and goals. People aren’t always easy to read (nor do they want to be read) but over time you’ll see common trends emerge and it gets more natural with time.

Related answers:

ENTJ: Leadership

Leadership: ENFJ/INFJ vs ENTJ/INTJ

What characteristic traits do you dislike in a leader?

Any advice for an INTP who is about to step into a leadership role and maybe a little anxious about it?

Hi Mr. ENTJ, I guess these are 2 seperate questions: what characteristic traits do you dislike in a leader? And how should one answer the question ‘how would you describe yourself?’ in an interview?

can you talk about managing people + dealing with politics, especially in the workplace

[pbandjesse]

I can't even get on the ship wifi so I'm assuming this will go up very late. I am sorry about that! But I am having the best time. This trip has been so beautiful. I have been brought to tears many times. Including today. Today was a good day.

I slept pretty well last night. Getting up was hard but I was feeling pretty good. Today we visit Skagway and the ship has already docked. So there was no issue leaving. And by the time we were awake and dressed and heading to breakfast it wasnt super busy.

Breakfast was fine. I realized my tank top was a little more cropped when I realized and so after we ate I requested we go back to the room first so I could put on tights under my pants. This was the best move. I would be very cozy all day.

We headed out into town. We took the shuttle that this town has. But it only goes to the end of the on dock. Our driver was very sweet and made me laugh. I was really excited to see everything. This town is a gold mining town and there was lots of history to learn.

I was slightly disappointed that a few of the building that were historic were under construction. But that's alright. I enjoyed the ones available to us.

And there were great souvenirs to find. We have gotten pieces for everyone we wanted to. And a few things for us. I decided that I didn't need a jade piece. I prefer the abolone. But I ended up getting super anxious about the decision and that was hard. I had to take a minute because I was very stressed for literally no reason. It's that fear of missing out mixed with fear of regrets. James was my stability. And made me feel a lot better.

I really loved the historic stuff we read about. They had this amazing snow plow train that was insane looking. I would forget the mountains are there every once in a while and look up and literally gasp. It was so pretty.

In one of the stores we went on they had some really pretty gold charms but I didn't want to buy something so expensive. I enjoyed my chats with the man at the counter. And at another store I got some questions answered about what green stone is. Something we had seen in another museum. It isn't jade or malachite, it's just called green stone, it comes from the southwest, and it's spiritual. And those lovely ladies gave me some direction for my research.

In one of the store some nice girls suggested if we didn't have a planned excursion we should visit their sister store and rent electric bikes. I knew this would be a great idea. I knew we would y be able to experience the city in a better way.

James was a little unsure because of the cost. But the cheapest excursions start at $50 per person, and James loves bikes and this would be exciting and not hard because it's electric. So after a little more walking I told James that's what I wanted to do.

And it was perfect. I'm so glad we did it. We rented them for an hour, and the nice man gave us an extra 15 minutes. And it allowed us to go out to the gold miners cemetery which was super powerful. And then we took the short hike to an incredible waterfall. Which was also powerful in a different way. I love waterfalls.

I had to convince James to not climb into a cave. And then we went to watch the gold mine train for a minute. And then we took the bikes to the look out point the man we rented the bikes from suggested.

This was a little scary for me. I do not like going fast and these bikes went up to 25 mph a few times. But it got us up there fast. And it was worth the view. I got a little teary. It was beautiful and I was having so much fun. This is really the trip of a lifetime.

We had to take the bikes back soon after that. Those extra 15 minutes gave us more then enough time to bring them back on time. I did miss the street turn and I couldn't hear James over the wind. But we slowed down and we turned around and then dropped them off. I felt a little gitty I was in such a good mood.

We made another little loop around. I got the Tshirt I wanted. And then we went to a trail. But I only made it a little up the hill before I had to turn around. I felt really bad to cut it short but I was not strong enough. James said it was okay! I still felt bad but I knew it was going to wreck me to try to go up there.

Instead we took the pond path. I texted my brother. Service has been super spotty in this city but that is okay. I enjoyed seeing plants I wasn't familiar with. And just feeling the wind on my face.

I was getting tired though. My face was cold and my feet hurt. I was happy but I was ready to head back.

We would go and get the shuttle. And got back to the ship around 2. We took the elevator up to get lunch. I ate more of the same. It probably sounds boring but I am having the best time eating my favorite things for every meal. I had a salad and a grilled cheese and fries. We got a few cakes to try and share. And it was good to sit and watch the world. To absorb how stupid beautiful everything is. The world is so beautiful.

I started getting super tired. And so me and James went back to the room and I laid down for almost two hours. It was a very deep sleep. James tried to wake me up at one point and I was like. No. So they went and did our customs form down at the guest services desk. And when they came back I was getting up again.

We would head down to the card room and played war. Did the trivia. The card game from yesterday wasn't there but maybe next time it will be and we can play that. It was nice just playing quietly and being together. But I was having issues because I was itchy and thought going to get allergy medicine would help.

Before we left we chatted with the worker in the library about tomorrow. Apparently this is the first time they've done this itinerary, which is probably why the timing is all weird. But tomorrow we'll be in glacier bay and the park services is bringing people on board to talk to us because we aren't getting off. So it's like a tour but it's on the ship. Neat!

I felt really really itchy when we got back to the room. So after changing three times James suggested I take a shower and wait for the meds to kick in. And that did help. I'm still a little itchy but it's not so bad anymore.

We came up here to the lounge. And we've been reading and drawing. And soon the ship will start to move again.

And tomorrow it is a ship day. And I hope we can get a good seat on that outside area I found. I hope we see some wildlife. I'm really excited to see glaciers. James told me there are 1000 of them??? Incredible.

We're going to go eat some dinner now. I love you all. I hope you are safe and have been enjoying our journey!! Goodnight!!

[thewnchstrs]

Home is Where I’m With You

Pairing: DeanXsister!reader, SamXsister!reader

Disclaimers: a few tears were shed, fluff

Word count: 1.6K

Masterlist

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I zipped up the last of my bags, panting with the effort of trying to get the rest of my things together, silently cursing myself for procrastinating packing until the day before I was supposed to move in. We had to leave today, the nearly ten and a half hour drive to Texas looming over our heads.

It was bittersweet. As I stood in the middle of my room, trying to memorize every piece of my first real home in over thirteen years, my heart swelled with memories.

“You ready, Y/N?” Sam’s voice asked from the doorway. I turned on my heels to face him, my arms secured over my chest. 

I nodded, taking my last glance before the spring of next year. I reminded myself that this wasn’t an ending- but a new beginning that had so much laid out for me. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Neither of us made a move to leave, but instead, continued standing and marveling at the small room that had come to be much more than a bedroom. It’s significance to me might have sounded silly to some, but that didn’t matter.

“You know, I remember the day I left for school.” Sam said, nodding his head, his mouth slightly upturned in a smirk. “One of the scariest days of my life.”

I held my breath, worrying my bottom lip between my upper teeth as I looked to Sam, my older brother, someone who I could confide anything in. “Seriously?”

Sam nodded, “It’s a huge step, going to college. You’re an adult now, you’re responsible for much more than you were before. You’re in the driver’s seat now.”

“Damn,” I said, feeling slightly more on edge. “Way to lighten the mood.”

“But that’s not my point.” Sam said, shaking his head as I looked at him. “My point is that...even though it’s scary, and it’s going to be hard, you have so many opportunities laid out for you, Y/N. You’re kind, and strong, and smart as hell. Don’t let those challenges get in the way of all the things you’ll do.”

I smiled and nodded, grateful that Sam always knew exactly what to say. “Thank you, Sammy.”

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“Pretty nice digs,” Dean said, nodding as he walked the short length of the dorm room we’d just finished setting up. Well, that Sam and I just finished setting up. Dean said he’d be back when the heavy lifting was finished, Sam claimed it was because he didn’t want me to see him cry when he realized I was really going through with my college decision.

The last day and a half flew by quickly. Our ride to the school scarily normal, as if we were on our way to a new town on a new hunt. Dean played his music too loud, Sam pestered him about how he was the only person on the planet to still on cassette tapes. I listened to their back and forth arguments about if Bon Jovi was even all that talented, to which Dean came to the conclusion that it rocked...on occasion.

For the first time in a long time, I didn’t slide my headphones into my ears and I didn’t try to drown them out. Instead, I laughed at their attempts to out do one another, gave my opinion on whatever they seemed to be arguing about at the time, and even- though I’d never admit it- sang along to a few of Dean’s songs.

Where car rides this long used to feel like an eternity, now it felt as if I blinked and we were here, getting ready to say goodbye.

I finished hanging up the last of my clothes and rearranging my desk for the third time before I turned to my brothers who stood in the middle of the room, none of us unsure what to really do now. 

“Well,” Dean said after a few seconds of silence. ���I guess, uh, we should get out of your hair, or something.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said nonchalantly even though my heart began to ache, “I mean I have a lot of, you know, things to do. New student things. Like, visit campus and find where my classes are, and stuff.” I opened and closed my mouth, knowing I was just rambling now. My eyes bounced from between the two of them, “So, I guess I’ll see you later. Or something.”

Sam swallowed roughly, pulling me close to his chest. The heartstrings keeping it in place bursting open, torn down the seams as I tried to think of something, anything to say to him. “Thank you for everything.”

Sam pulled away, the skin around his eyes becoming red as he smoothed my hair down as he shook his head, “Thank you.”

I held onto his hand before he turned making his way out the door, leaving Dean and I in the middle of the room. This would be much harder. Dean was practically my dad after our biological dad died, leaving Dean the responsibilities of parenthood lingering over his head. Dean had to be so much more than just a brother to Sam and I, and he did a damn good job at it. 

“If you need anything, and I mean anything, you call Sam or I okay? Just promise me that much.” Dean said, his voice low which meant he was serious. 

“You know I will.” I nodded. Dean smiled sadly as he pulled me in this time and we stood there for God knows how long. “Thank you.”

It felt as if there were a string tightly wound around us, trying to keep us from going our separate ways. He ruffled my hair and we both pretended not to notice how we cried. 

Dean turned on his heels but before he left, he pulled a small package out of the inside of his coat and laid it on my desk. 

“See you ‘round, kiddo.”

The door clicked behind Dean. I listened, my ear on the door as their footsteps receded farther and farther away, before I pushed myself off the door and grabbed the brown package, carefully opening it in my hand.

A small picture frame held a picture of me, Sam, and Dean out in front of the Impala at Bobby’s salvage yard. I remembered exactly when it was taken, and how mad I was at Bobby for having it printed. My hair blew wildly around my face, my eyes squinted and mouth wide open in mid laughter, Sam and Dean, beers dangling from their fingertips with their heads thrown back. 

I smiled at the framed picture, running my fingertips over the glass as I set it on my desk, knowing they’d be watching over me.

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10 Months Later.

Spring.

I nearly threw my car into park as I pulled up to the bunker, beaming with excitement at the sight of the old, rusting building. The sun hit it just right so that you could see every crack of the stone, every vine that snaked its way up and down the walls. The bunker had never looked so beautiful.

I raced down the concrete stairs to the front door, so excited that my hands shook as I tried to find the right key on my key ring when finally, the last one I tried slid easily into the lock. I pushed the door open with my shoulder, bursting into the bunker at the top of the spiral staircase.

“I’m home!!” I yelled, racing down the stairs. “Sam? Dean?” I ran toward the library where a few open books sat, papers scattered around them, but no Sam and Dean. 

This time, I tried the kitchen, running down the hallway and slamming to a stop in front of it, flicking the lights on when-

“SURPRISE!!”

Numerous voices rang out from the kitchen, balloons scattered the tile floors, a banner strung from wall to wall with “Welcome Home, Y/N” written in sharpie, and most importantly, Sam, Dean and Cas blowing on kazoos. I failed miserably at hiding my smile, throwing my arms around the three of them at once. 

“Welcome home, Y/N.” Cas smiled when I pulled back. I laughed, looking around at their decorations, noticing for the first times the streamers that were taped to the ceilings with duct tape.

“It’s good to be home,” I beamed.

“Good to have you back, kiddo.” Dean smiled, “Now. I’m going to cut into that pie,” he said, pointing in the direction of the carefully made pie sitting on the counter before pointing to me, “and you’re going to tell us everything.”

Dean quickly passed out the pie, all of us sitting around the table in the kitchen as I told them about the last ten months. Everything from the best to the worst classes, and how I bought a twenty year old car for $200 with less than ten thousand miles on it, eliciting an approving head nod from Dean. It all seemed so strange- telling them about my life that had changed so drastically in less than a year. 

“Sounds like an eventful year,” Sam said as I leaned my head on his shoulder. “You planning on going back-”

“Now wait wait wait,” Dean said quickly, licking the rest of his pie from his fork and pointing it toward Sam and I, “She just got back. She ain’t goin’ anywhere for a while.”

We all laughed, just like we did for the rest of the night where we stayed up, filling each other in on our now very different lives. College life is great, and I knew I wanted to go for as long as I could, but I would always savor the moments I had with my brothers most.

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[engagedtobefree]

Charades

I wake up and my jaw aches. A pain that increases up to the hinge, a stiffness that invades my neck down to my shoulders. There’s little relief from wearing my nightguard, something that used to relieve my upper body incredibly well. Throughout the waking hours, my tenseness makes it worse. I consciously try to find ease: half the time it’s like my body has forgotten how to, and I part my lips awkwardly; the other half of the time I find some release only for it to be stolen away from me a few moments later.

The rest of my body is also tense these days, stiffening ever more increasingly, regardless of the fact that I’ve been incorporating more movement in. No matter what I do, my muscles ache. They scream, “Stretch me, make me move, wander about, get me going”, yet no matter how often I give in to these demands, they only seem to tighten more. Everything hurts.

I don’t sleep. It got to the point where I was only sleeping roughly 4-5 hours a night, oftentimes less, my clock by my bedside taunting me with every hour that passed by. I started taking melatonin, and it helps. Now I wake up, unsure of what time it is. Turns out it’s usually too early or too late, never on time. No matter how much sleep I get, I wake up still feeling restless, my eyes and body begging for more rest, in constant battle with the bodily craving to get moving. Most Saturdays I sleep the whole day away, into Sunday afternoons. I never feel better afterwards.

Sometimes I wake up, hazy and sad from a bad dream. I slowly taste the last remnants of the images from the night, and recognize that they’re just a direct reflection of my waking torments and traumas. I let them quietly slip away, knowing that whether I remember them or not doesn’t matter when I already know what the things are that are haunting me.

I look in the mirror and I don’t recognize the woman in the reflection. I look at my phone screen and it’s the same thing. Something is off, but I can’t pinpoint what it is. I scrutinize all of my features, and they’re the same, but still different somehow. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be a ghost. Then am I the haunted or the one doing the haunting? Can one be both? 

All this is to say: secrets make you sick. I’ve kept mine buried in my bones for so long that now they’re coiling around me, from the inside out. I could have let them out awhile ago, but I chose not to. I chose not to for other peoples’ sake. I chose not to for fear of abandonment. I chose not to for fear of judgment. I chose not to for fear of the consequences. I chose not to because it seemed more appropriate, more proper, less difficult for others around me to bear. I’d like to say it was the easier decision, but I know that’s not true. Sometimes I picture the release, of finally getting the words out, of realizing it was never so big and so scary, and I feel these ties that bind me lift up and away, but it’s only a split second mirage, a phantom feeling. I snap back to reality a moment later, still stuck here, unsure of what to do to finally make that daydream of sweet relief come true.

I can still function when I need to, though that is also becoming increasingly harder to do. There are plenty of moments of true joy and happiness, but a lot of times, there’s more I want to say, but I don’t, and that’s when I put on my happy charade. In reality, my home is a mess, my schoolwork sits untouched, food goes uncooked, laundry goes undone, books sit unread. You get the picture. It’s always the behind-the-scenes that unravels first, isn’t it? I am months behind on my schoolwork, I haven’t studied, I don’t practice teaching, I don’t practice on my own. I have read 3 books this year, something I used to do in a month. I deleted all of my social media apps. All of them, both the big and the small. I deactivated one account, more might potentially follow. I don’t want things to get bad again, I don’t. I really don’t. 

I need someone to help, but I don’t know how to reach out, I don’t know how to ask, I don’t know how to start the conversation. I don’t know what to do and it’s killing me. I don’t want things to be like this. I don’t.

[alicescripts]

Live show: Los Angeles, California

On October 30, we are releasing the Alice Isn’t Dead novel, a complete reimagining of the story from the ground up. It is a standalone thriller novel for anyone looking for a scary page-turner, whether they’ve heard this podcast or not. Available for preorder now. And preordering helps authors out tremendously, so please consider it. Thanks so much!

Hi, this is Joseph Fink. What you’re about to hear is the live Alice Isn’t Dead performance at the Largo in Los Angeles on April 5, 2018. This live episode was not any material from the podcast, but instead was a standalone show focused on the weird and interesting sites and places of LA. It was an incredible night, and thank you to those who came out to see it. Enjoy the show.

--

Oh. I’m sorry, I uh, I didn’t expect um, I-I didn’t know that anybody would be listening. [clears throat] OK. Um, when you tell a story, you should expect an audience but sometimes I don’t think about that. I just tell the story the same way I breathe, just move life in an out of my body.  I suppose you could listen if you want.

My name is Keisha. I’m a truck driver. It’s weird isn’t it the-the way say our jobs as though they were an identity rather than a thing we do for money. I mean do you think that outside of capitalism we’d confuse our self image with what pays the bills? [chuckles] Sorry. I-I got away from myself. Story not polemic, right.

I became a truck driver because, well, that-that’s a long one. I thought my wife alice was dead. But she isn’t dead. And she’s out there somewhere on the highways and back roads, and I’m trying to find her. Just driving my truck around and around looking for her. That’s who I am really. I am the one that looks for Alice. And Alice is the one who isn’t dead, but isn’t here.

I was in Los Angeles. All downtowns are the same downtown, they are landscapes built for the facilitation of money and business without thought to he human experience. And we are tiny to these monuments and that we are allowed to pass among them is a privilege, not a right. Still each downtown bears some mark of its city. The LA downtown, despite surface similarities, could not be mistaken for New York or Chicago, it’s too eclectic. It’s too strange in its architecture. LA is, is much more than movies but – movies infuse everything because movies are the only history the city will acknowledge. The history of the indigenous people, the history of the Latino people, these are set aside. The city looked at all the people that had already come and thought, ah! A blank slate! And so they did not draw from the Gabrielino or the Chumash or even the Spanish in their missions, they drew from the movies. From the foundational idea that LA could and should be anywhere in the world. So the style of LA is every style, each house and each neighborhood built in wildly different ways. It’s art deco and Spanish stucco and mid-century modern.

In Brand Park, out in Glendale, there’s this enormous house turned public library that is less actual Middle Eastern and more movie Middle Eastern, built by the wealthy white man whose garden that park once was. There’s nowhere in LA that feels stylistically of one piece, and it is that incoherence that provides the coherence of the city.

You see, I’ve come to town on your word, Alice. Only it wasn’t your word direct of course just – whispers through a network of safe houses and gatekeepers, those living on the fringe of society who can be trusted with the kinds of messages we send back and forth. But who knows how the messages mutate mouth to mouth? But still, even through this mutilation of intent, I can hear your voice, like a heartbeat, your skin and bone.

It’s Tanya in Omaha, a friend of the cause, who reaches out to me on my radio to finally lay your words to rest. There’s a meeting in Los Angeles, you’ve heard. You don’t know the exact nature and purpose of this meeting, no one seems to, but the word is that it’s a meeting of those at the heart of it, the ones that are making the real choices, that shape every decision that we think we freely make. So I’ve come to town to find that meeting. I will find this meeting and then… shit, I don’t know. And then I will decide what to do next.

I’m faced with a mystery that’s so much bigger than myself that it sits like an uneven weight in my chest. I feel off balance, so I take comfort in smaller mysteries, ones that don’t matter at all. In Pico-Robertson, a five minute walk from six different synagogues, and a celebrity chef kosher Mexican restaurant called Mexikosher, is a strange synagogue with no windows. The architecture is unmistakable. Modern LA Jewish has a certain look and this place has it, right down to the arches designed to look like the two tablets of the Commandments. Except this synagogue is several stories tall, and with no visible entrance.

What does it mean to blend in? What-what does it mean to, to disguise, what does it mean to stick out? These are intrinsically Jewish questions. A people that has, throughout over a thousand years of oppression, variously done all three. And this way too the building is very Jewish. Of course it is not a synagogue. It is, in fact, 40 oil wells hidden inside a soundproofed structure designed to look like a synagogue. And it is not the only one, just five minutes down the road is an office building with no doors and no windows, that one is 50 wells.

The machinery of our system is not hidden below us, it is disguised among us. Rocks that are actually utility boxes, trees that are cell towers. That vacant house that we walk by day after day, the one with the opaque windows? Actually a maintenance entrance for the metro.

Which buildings are real and which ones are disguises? It doesn’t matter, I suppose. But that’s what makes me enjoy considering it.

Sylvia’s here too. She’s really come a long way from the teenage runaway I first discovered on the side of a highway. Did you tell her about the secret meeting, Alice? She is both more vulnerable and far braver than either of us, did you send her to this place? [sighs] We reunited on one of the vacant cul-de-sacs near LAX, where neighborhoods that had once been an airport’s buffer zone were now demolished.

“Heya,” Sylvia said, as though we were meeting at the continental breakfast at a hotel, not on a dark empty street after months of not seeing each other. “Hey yourself,” I said. “Why did you come?” She shrugged, performed nonchalance. “Same reason as you, I guess.”

Well then I guess neither of us knew. Because I had no idea why I was there, I didn’t even knew who was meeting in this town, let’s start with that. OK what what organization, what secret brotherhood, what ancient cabal that influences world events is now sitting around the table in some sterile backroom in this sunny, thirsty city?

I could have asked Sylvia what she knew about it, but I didn’t. I felt like I would be following a script you gave to me, Alice, and I am not interested in your dictating my actions. So instead I asked her: “How you been?” And she took a long slow breath that was more answer than words could ever be. “[sighs] I’ve been good,” she said. “You know, trying my best, finding places to sleep, finding a friendly face on the other side of a meal.” She shrugged. “I guess it’s the same struggle for everyone. But those of us who live on the road, everything is amplified, you know?” I do know. Goddammit, I know.

I wasn’t even sure where in the region this meeting might be held. So I drove out east to the desert where the mountains looked like set backdrops, unreal and perfect, taking up half the sky. Palm Springs, the town killed by cheap plane tickets. Why drive two hours from the city for the weekend, when it’s possible to weekend in Honolulu or Costa Rica instead? Then, having died, Palm Springs hung on just long enough for everything dated about it to become vintage cool. Now it’s back, a mid-century modern paradise of steel beams and rock walls and that style of beautiful, but featureless wooden security fence that only exists in Southern California. Old motels not updated since the heyday of the 50’s now are converted to hip resorts with (farmed) table food and upscale tiki bars. The city is an Instagram feed. Which is both snark and compliment, because it is a genuinely beautiful place.

I wondered the town, feeling that there was something worth finding there, but unsure where it would be hidden. I visited Elvis’ Honeymoon Hideaway, a garish airplane of a house with giant wings of a roof looming at the end of a cul-de-sac, providing kitsch to the dwindling population of Elvis enthusiasts.

That house was built on sale for 9 million a few years back and is now reduced to an easy 4, so make those owners an offer and you too could own a house that is listed as a historical site. A place where Elvis had sex a few times. It probably doesn’t have a dishwasher, though, so… Just south of Cathedral City, I saw a sign that looked familiar. It’s this huge neon pink elephant, mouth wide in mid-laugh, splashing herself. A pink elephant carwash. The sign has a twin sister in Seattle, that one is famous. It was weird running into her in the desert too. It was like driving through the suburbs and suddenly finding out that 150 years ago, they also built an Eiffel tower in Pomona.

I stopped the car and I just gawked up at her. It made me so happy. And then, looking down from the sign, the horror came to me. I saw someone walking towards me with a shuffle that I recognized. Like their legs had no muscle or bone but were heavy sacks of meat attached to their body. One dead leg thrust forward after another, and as the man came close, he looked up and I went from dread suspicion to horrible certainty.

He’s one of those creatures that I call Thistle men. Sagging human faces hung limply on skulls that are the wrong shape. Yellow teeth, yellow eyes. They are serial murderers hunting the back roads of our highway systems, and one of them was here.

He made eye contact with me. He laughed, a sound like hanging knives clattering together. And then he was gone. The neon elephant’s face no longer seemed friendly. I mean it, too, seemed to be laughing.

Sylvia and I, we split up for the day. We just watched the traffic and people, looking for suspicious crowds, folks that don’t fit in with the tourists and the beautiful people working as baristas just for now. Of course we don’t know what those suspicious crowds would even look like. Grey men in grey suits going greyly about the tedious business of running the world? Or, like the Thistle men, monsters of hideous aspect?

I reached out to my friend Lynn who works as a dispatcher at my trucking company. She and I became friends soon after I started. She doesn’t take shit, I don’t give shit, we get along that way. “Any unusual moments in Los Angeles?” I said. “Strange shipments, unsual routings, anything?” “You know I can’t tell you that,” she said. “What if I said please?” I said. She snorted into the phone. [chuckles] “In that case, sure,” she said. “I always like you when I’m polite, let me see what I can find.”

Sylvia and I saw nothing of note that day. We ate together at a Korean barbeque place built into the dome of what had once been a restaurant shaped like a hat. “This is nice,” she said towards the end of the dinner. It was, it really was.

You know, a city is defined by its people but it’s haunted by its ruins. There are no cities without vacant lots, the skeletons of buildings, ample evidence of disaster and failure. Our eyes slide past them because they tell a different story about our city than the one we wanna hear. A story in which all of this could slip away in a moment. Even though we know this fact is true, even more for Los Angeles than most cities. This city will some day be shaken to the ground, or burned, or covered over with mud, or drowned by the rising sea or strangled by draught. The question is, as it is for each of us in our personal lives, not if it will die but how.

I like to go and look at these broken places where the refuse of recent history shows. It allows me to look at a region differently, maybe see what I was missing. And if a secret meeting was gonna be hidden here, where but in the cracks? So I peer in. I search.

Above the Pacific Coast highway in the hills of Malibu that are so beautiful when they aren’t falling or burning, is what remains of a house. That house was a mansion built in the 50’s and burned in the 80’s when its location finally caught up to it. There’s now a popular hike that goes right into the ruins, so any walker can go see this place where people lived as recently as 30 years ago. A ruin shouldn’t be so new. A Roman home destroyed by a volcano, well OK you know. A medieval castle, sure. Even an old stone settler’s hut, 100 years old, alright, OK that make sense. But a house that once held a television and a shower? It feels wrong to walk on the foundation, stepping over the bases of walls and around the chimney. It was a home not so long ago, and now it is transformed. Transformation is uncomfortable, and easily mistaken for an ending.

In Griffith Park, I met with Sylvia in the old zoo. All the animal enclosures are still there, and you can sit in them and look at where once caged animals lived, and now wild animals are free to come and go.

Sylvia and I sat in the artificial caves, trying to imagine what the purpose of this secret meeting was. Sure, generally the word was out that it was a meeting of those in control in order to further control us, but specifics were, as they often are, lacking. Sylvia asked me: “Do you feel like this story is too convenient?” And I had no way to respond but nodding. “But we still have to look for it, right?” she said. And I nodded again.

As the sun moved behind the hills, it got very cold. She said, “Yeah”. And I said, “Yeah.” And neither one of us meant it.

Gentrification comes for us all. Let’s leave aside for a moment the many issues of endangered communities and rocketing prices, and consider just two cases of what people will look past to get access to LA property. December 6, 1959, in the hills just below Griffith Park, a doctor lived with his wife in a mansion with an incredible view. The Christmas tree was up for the season, wrapped gifts underneath. At 4:30 in the morning, the doctor got out of bed, retrieved a ball-peen hammer and murdered his wife with it. Then he attacked his daughter, though she survived. And then he took a handful of pills and was dead by the time police arrived.

That house stood empty ever since, still filled with the family’s things: the furniture, the tree, wrapped gifts underneath. A prime house in a prime LA area, but who would live in a house where such horror had happened? For 60 years, no one. Well, the house sold for 2.2 million last year. A view of the city, just above those (-) [0:21:06]. Well at this point, who wouldn’t take some hauntings and a terrible bloody past for that?

Meanwhile the Cecil Hotel in Hollywood, site of an inordinate number of murders and suicides, where the Night Stalker lived in the 80’s while causing terror across the region, where just a few years back, a body floated in the water tank for days before being discovered, is now the boutique Stay on Main. A rebranding for this rebranded city. Even our murders are getting gentrified.

Maybe it’s me. I don’t know, maybe I just don’t like change. Change is often wonderful. But we should definitely think hard about what we are changing into, and what that change might mean. We should just spend a little time thinking about that.

[long break]

Still searching for this meeting. I went up the coast, over the Grade and down toward Axnard, not as cool as Ventura or as rich as Camarillo. Oxnard gets by. As I waited to hear from Lynn, I walked on Silver Strand, just watching the surfers. Many, even now in the winter. Nothing will keep them out of those frigid Alaskan currents. I headed south to Channel Island harbor. It was absolutely peaceful on its shore. The ocean is chattering and restless, the harbor sleeps. It does not stir except to send crumbling waves in the wake of the few boats in and out.

During my walk, I saw a rowboat. Old, practically falling apart. Something about the occupants of the rowboat made me look closer. Stooped figures in awkward postures that looked painful. One of them turned to face me, though the boat was 60 feet offshore, and even at that distance, I could see. Two Thistle men, floating in a rowboat in the (Sound).

“Ooooooooooooooooo,” one of them shouted at me in a gentle high-pitched voice. “Ffffffffffffffffffffffffffff.” There was something that looked a lot like a human arm poking out over the rim of the rowboat.

I returned to my truck. Not everything is my problem.

Worship is a feeling so all-encompassing that it can be easy to misunderstand from outside. Take the worship of Santa Muerte, a Mexican (folk) saint of death, likely a legacy of pre-Colombian devotion, dressed in the clothes of the colonizing religion. The church has spent a long time trying to suppress her worship, but of course the church has never been good at actually suppressing much, and devotion to Santa Muerte has only spread in recent times.

Like many figures of death, she represents healing and well-being. Religion often lies in embracing contradiction. Those on the outside, they see this as a weakness but those on the inside recognize it as strength. The temple of Santa Muerte in Los Angeles is just down on Melrose Avenue, sharing a building, as everything in LA does now, with a weed store. It is a one-room shrine established by a husband and wife, full of life-sized skeletons bearing (-) [0:25:04]. It would be easy as an outsider to default to one’s own associations with skeletons and come to one’s own emotional conclusions, but it is healthier to embrace the contradiction of these symbols of death. That, after all, physically hold us up for as long as we live. To deny Santa Muerte is to deny our own bodies.

Meanwhile on the other end of the spectrum, the Bob Baker Marionette Theater carries a different kind of worship: devotion to a performance style that time has left behind. And the outside of the building is – let’s face it, it’s creepy. Because, like skeletons, puppets have taken on a certain cultural connotation in the wider world. But we should try to see it from the inside, as the earnest expression of performance and joy.

Mm mm. No I can’t. Mm mm, I ju- not with puppets. Skeletons, fine. Loose-skinned monsters from whatever world, well I’ve deal with them, but puppets? Mm mm.

Lynn got back to me. “You didn’t hear this from me,” she said. “That goes without saying,” I said. “No it doesn’t,” she responded, “because I just told you that. Now, there have been some shipments that don’t belong to any company. Or the company info is missing from them, I can’t understand what I’m looking that. They certainly don’t hold up to any scrutiny at all, so I don’t think that they were expecting scrutiny. These things stand out so bad that they might as well be big red arrows pointing at a location in Los Angeles.”

It was late afternoon. Sylvia was asleep in the back of the truck’s cab. I lowered my voice. “Where?” She told me. I looked at Sylvia, knowing she would want me to wake her up, to take her with me. But I didn’t. I let her sleep. I went alone. Better that one of us survive.

I went where Lynn told me: up La Cienega, past a mall and a hospital. I came to the address she gave me. An unassuming place. If it weren’t for the brightly lit shine, I might not have even spotted it from the street. I went through the gates. There was a courtyard there, deserted. The air was still and there was no sound, but the stillness felt temporary, like the pause after an act of violence before anyone can get over their shock and react. I continued through the doors to a dark room. Not the grand hall I might have expected for a meeting like this, but a cozy place. Rows of theater seats. A stage draped in red curtains, from which a speaker stood addressing the crowd. There was music. Was that music? Or was it the shifting and squirming of inhuman bodies? Because there was something inhuman in this place, I could feel it. Not the people in the seats, they seemed completely human. Looking up at the person speaking, following the narrative, and slowly having information dawn on them.

In fact, the people in the seats did not at all seem like the kind of people I would expect at a meeting like this. Were these the powerful, the wicked? Were these the unseen hands ushering us to disaster? Looks can be deceiving. Everything can be deceiving, up to and including the truth, but no. I did not think that these were monsters, I thought they were people like me. People lured to the spot for the same reason I had been, because the story of the meeting had been a very good story. It played exactly into how I had thought the world works. It fed my suspicions and it led me to this place. And I think the same is true for every person in that room. They were there, like I was there, looking for a good story. But why were they led there? Hmm? If the meeting itself was a decoy, then what was the true purpose of this moment?

And that’s when I saw them. Lingering in the shadows at the edges of the crowd. Men with faces that sagged. Flesh that peeled. Yellow teeth, yellow eyes. Thistle men ringed the crowd. (Wools to sheep, parks to bunnies). Hunters. Prey. Did the people in their seats notice? Did they look into the shadows and see the inhuman eyes peering back at them, did they smell the breath of the Thistle men, like mildew, like soil? A smell of rot from deep within, cold lungs, did they hear the occasional laugh coming from a gurgling broken throat? Did they look beside them at seats that were empty and think, wasn’t someone here just moments ago? Or was there? But surely there wasn’t, because where could they have gone? And then the shadows at the edges of the crowd, the people that had once sat in those seats, were led into a place from which they could never return.

I understood. A simple plan: tell an irresistible story. A story that is exactly what all of us fighting Thistle might want to hear. That we were right all along. That the world really is against us in so simple and easy a way that the culprits could all meet in one room. And we would come to hear that story, and then Thistle would take us. Why hunt when instead they could lure?

Standing in the door to that hall of horrors, I saw the faces of the Thistle men as they turned and noticed. One gave a yelp and started to lope towards me and I fled. Where the courtyard had been empty, it was now packed shoulder to shoulder full of men with loose faces and eyes that went yellow at the edges and wet lips hiding sharp teeth. They were waiting for the crowd inside. Hungry creatures preparing to feed on any person that stepped out of that theater. I pushed into and past them, using their momentary surprise to escape, and I ran until my throat was dry and ragged, through that courtyard and out to where the lights of the strip club across the way flashed back and forth, back and forth, and then into my car and then onto the maze of freeways where it is so easy to disappear.

I kept my eye glued on the mirrors, but no one was chasing me. Somewhere behind me, an audience of innocents remained in Thistle’s trap, and I wouldn’t help them. I couldn’t.

Instead, I went back to the truck. Sylvia was still asleep in the cot. I sat in the driver’s seat. I was exhausted. The sun had fully set, and I allowed my eyelids to drift downwards. “Hi,” said Sylvia. She was in the passenger’s seat turned sideways towards me. It was light again. I don’t know how long I’d slept, I know I didn’t dream. There are small mercies in life, I guess. “Did you find out anything?” Sylvia said. I looked in her eyes. She’s so young. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair that she was out here like me on this labyrinth of roads and rest stops. But that’s just what it was. For her and for me and for so many others.

And she looked at me with trust. And I looked right back and I said, “I didn’t find anything. I don’t think the meeting is even real. Let’s get out of here.” Sylvia yawned, she stretched, she nodded. “Yeah OK,” she said. “Might as well. Too bad this turned out to be nothin’.” “Too bad,” I said.

So now here I am telling the story from just outside of Ashland, Oregon. Los Angeles is hundreds of miles behind me now. It isn’t far enough.

I love you, Alice. I stayed alive another day. You do the same, OK? OK.

[applause]

Joseph Fink: Thank you to everyone who came out for our Largo show. We will be back in two weeks with chapter 1 of our third and final season. This show would not be possible without our Patreon supporters. Such as the incredible Ethel Morgan, the indomitable Lilith Newman, the victorious Chris Jensen, and the electrifying Melissa (Lumm).

If you would like to join these folks in helping us make this show, please check out patreon.com/aliceisntdead, where you can get rewards like director’s commentary on every episode, live video streams with the cast and crew, bonus episodes, and more.

Thanks for listening, and see you soon.

[tonydadisbestdad]

Meeting the Family

Peter ParkerxReader

Dad!TonyxPeter

Word Count: 2,567

Request by anon: Could you do something with tony being peters dad and peter wants you to meet his family.

A/N: I’m so sorry this took me forever. Also, I dunno how I feel about Tony being Peter’s actual dad so I hope you don’t hate what I did with that part of this request. For the sake of it I shall explain how I feel this goes. No Aunt May or Uncle Ben. When the Parker’s pass Peter gets put in the system and something happens where Tony ends up adopting Peter. So, sorry if y’all don’t like this. I did my best.

“Y/N, please,“ Peter begged.

The two of you were sitting at lunch, he had one arm around your shoulders and the other was in front of you on the table. It was very much a position of ‘please don’t try to run away from me like the other 5 times I’ve asked this of you and you bolted in the other direction’.

Little did he know you’d do that because what he was asking of you alone made you so nervous. And you definitely did not want him seeing you that way.

You couldn’t look at him as he beggingly stared at you.

“I know you’re nervous about it, but come on, you’re going to have to meet them all at some point. He really wants you to come.”

You wanted to shake your head, to tell him he was out of his mind.

But you didn’t, and he wasn’t. He was asking something so simple of you. You didn’t want to upset him, and you knew if you told him no you would. You chanced a glance at him. God, he was so cute. You released a soft sigh. You’d only been dating a month, and he really wanted you to meet his family.

His family of superheroes.

Tony Stark being his dad didn’t help at all.

You might go to a smart school, but were you good enough to be graced by Tony Stark’s presence? You didn’t think so and that was nerve wracking enough.

“I’m afraid I’m not good enough to meet them,” You quietly admitted part of your fear to him.

Peter frowned. “Baby, no. Don’t say stuff like that. They’re going to love you because I love you.”

You blushed madly at his words.

Which made him realize what he said, making him blush as well. “I-I just mean like… you know… I mean-”

Your eyes rolled before you smiled and kissed him.

He let out a soft sigh of relief into it. “So, friday night you’ll come to the party?”

You nodded, wishing you didn’t have to do this, but knowing that you should probably just get it over with.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

You changed your outfit 6 times. Nothing felt like it was good enough, but maybe that just had to do with you felt like you shouldn’t be doing this. When you finally found something you thought was suitable you made your way to the Avengers tower. Feeling sick the entire way there didn’t help.

Luckily, your boyfriend was sweet enough to be waiting downstairs for you when you arrived.

“Hi baby,” He smiled, meeting you halfway. He wrapped his arms around you tightly.

You hugged him back, wishing you didn’t have to let go of him. Having your face in his shoulder helped calm your nerves for just long enough that you could gather your courage together to do this.

He kept an arm around your shoulder as he guided you to the elevator. “Just breathe, okay? And please remember nobody is expecting anything from you so don’t think you need to be pressured into telling anyone anything. They are all going to like you.”

You released a shaky breath. “Please just, don’t leave my side…”

Peter kissed your cheek. “I wouldn’t think of it, baby.”

When the doors opened you had the thought that it was too fast of a ride you needed more time.

Much to your relief though they weren’t all standing there when you got off. Which meant you wouldn’t be bombarded right away.

There were plenty enough people there. They all seemed to be having a good time, it was nice to see.

“We don’t have to rush if that’ll make things easier,” Peter said over the not too loud music. “We can just walk around get some food, whoever we bump into, we bump into. Or we can hunt everyone down and get it over with, it’s your choice.”

“Shouldn’t we at least find your dad first?” You asked, unsure if his first option would be okay, or if it would seem rude to wander around and not meet everyone first.

Peter shrugged. “Actually, he’s not even here yet. Some business meeting he had got pushed back, so him and Pepper won’t be here til later. And no one else would think it rude if we didn’t directly find them. So, no pressure.”

You sighed, not wanting to make the decision, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to calm down until you got this out of the way. “Well, I guess the first would be better.”

Peter nodded and smiled as he pulled you towards the bar. “I know Nat’ll be over here, she likes to bartend at these things. And where Nat is I’m sure Bruce and or Clint will be.”

You nodded lightly and followed his lead. He wasn’t wrong.

Natasha tilted her head upon seeing the two of you.

Peter smiled, causing her to crack the slightest smile you were pretty sure you’d ever seen.

Both Clint and Bruce turned to see what Nat was looking at. Bruce smiled at you and Peter, while Clint offered a half smile.

“So,” Peter started, “This is Y/N,” he introduced.

“Hi there,” Bruce said, offering a small wave. “It’s nice to meet you.”

You nervously nodded and smiled politely. “All of you as well.”

“You keeping him in line?” Clint asked.

“H-he’s a great guy, no keeping in line needed,” You answered.

Clint chuckled. “Have you seen this kid play pranks on people?”

You looked up at Peter, a little surprised, somehow that had never come up before. “No, I haven’t.”

“He’s too good at it,” Bruce commented.

“So,” Nat started, sending your nerves through the roof, and ending that conversation where it was. “I trust I don’t need to threaten you, because I don’t think Peter would be dating you if you weren’t a smart girl.”

“Aunt Nat, come on, you promised.” Peter started, tugging you a little closer as if to apologize and protect you from her words.

“I was just stating a fact,” She told him.

“No, no miss, I promise I would never do anything to intentionally hurt Peter.” You told her, knowing that she wanted to see how you’d respond anyway.

She let out a short hum. “Miss. I like you already.”

It was something so small and you hadn’t even realized you’d done it, but you were glad you were in her good graces. “I appreciate that,” You told her.

“What do you two want to drink?” She asked next.

The two of you got your drinks before moving on to find the next family members you needed to meet.

“See that wasn’t so bad, right?” Peter asked, as he searched around for who he could bring you to next.

“I thought she was actually going to threaten me,” You shot at him.

He smiled and lean down to kiss your cheek. “Well, she didn’t, because she knows how much you mean to me.”

You nodded.

The next group Peter spotted consisted of Steve, Sam, and Thor. “Hey guys,” He greeted.

He was greeted back with nothing but smiles and hello’s.

“So you’re Y/N,” Sam started, smiling at you. “I’m Sam, it’s nice to meet you. Our boy here gives you any trouble you come tell me, I got your back.”

Peter rolled his eyes.

“I-I don’t think Peter could ever give me trouble,” You said in disbelief that he ever would. You were surprised that was what Sam was going with.

The three chuckled.

“Young Peter can be quite troublesome,” Thor added.

“Don’t listen to them,” Steve started. “But if he does do anything you aren’t comfortable with you tell us and we’ll straighten him out.”

Peter sighed. “Guys, really?”

“Boy,” Sam started. “We are not going to let you screw this up.”

“We can also tell you lots of stories about younger Peter,” Thor added. “All you have to do is ask.”

You went to reply but Peter was grabbing both your shoulder. “Alright, before that one bites me,” He said, the men chuckled as he guided you away.

“It was nice to meet you all,” You called, as you were shoved as far away from them as Peter could get you without making you leave the party.

“What?” You asked in a teasing tone. “Don’t want me to hear all about your childhood?”

Peter rolled his eyes as he stopped by the food table. “I’d rather not.” He looked around for who he could take you to next. Luckily, Wanda and Vision were close by.

Sadly, they had nothing silly to say about Peter. But Wanda told you if you ever wanted to talk to someone around here that isn’t a guy and that isn’t very scary; that it would be nice to have a female friend around here.

Next was Rhodey. You were instantly in love with the man. He was so sweet to you and was the first to ask how you were doing under all this pressure.

Of course you told him the truth.

He told you to not let the superhero titles scave you. That everyone here was just a person. They were all caring people, and so long as you were willing to be kind to them and most especially Peter, you’d fit in just fine.

Your nerves had finally settled after that. You were glad to have this over with. It wasn’t bad at all, especially compared to what you thought it would be. Well, it was all fine until you remembered, you’d yet to meet his dad.

Which you were reminded of when you heard him call from behind you.

“Underoos,” Tony said, spotting his kid and his kid’s girlfriend. He was honestly glad he was finally getting to meet you. Not that he’d been waiting long, Peter had only just told him less than two weeks ago, which was just about half the amount of time you’d been dating. But, ready nonetheless.

You turned around and saw him, your nerves were back now tenfold.

Peter could easily tell, he didn’t actually need his powers to tell either, but they did help. He wrapped his arm back around you and guided you the rest of the way to him. “Hey, dad. This is Y/N.”

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Tony said, offering a small smile.

He seemed so much more laid back up close like this. The only times you’d ever really seen him were on t.v. and right now he seemed like a completely different person. It sort of helped your nervousness. “Y-you as well, thank you for inviting me tonight. That was very nice of you.”

“You’re welcome here anytime,” Tony said.

“Thank you,” you said again.

“How was your trip, dad?” Peter asked, trying to fill in conversation.

“The usual bullshit,” Tony answered. “Say Underoos, why don’t you give us a minute to chat. I would really appreciate it if you did me a favor and went and asked Nat for a drink for me, please.”

Peter frowned, as did you, “Dad no come on, I’m not going to leave Y/N here alone with you. We can all go get you a drink together, and you can say what you need to in front of me.”

“Be honest,” Tony said, looking to you now. “Can we just talk for two minutes alone? It’s nothing bad and I’m sure this nervousness about not knowing what I’m going to tell you is a thousand times worse than what I have to tell you.”

You swallowed thickly, of course you didn’t want to be alone with him. But he really seemed to want to talk, and this was Tony Stark afterall, you found yourself unable to say no. “It’s alright, Peter.”

Peter looked over your face, wanting you to offer him a look asking him to stay.

But you gave him a nod, and reassured him, and yourself, that it would be fine. Nothing to worry about, right? He was just a man, you had nothing to really be afraid of, right?

“I’m keeping me ear on you,” Peter threaten his dad, before he stepped away.

Tony rolled his eyes and notioned for you to walk in the other direction with you.

You followed beside him, not too close, you didn’t want to accidentally bump him or anything.

He stopped in a quiet enough spot by a window and looked out at the city. “I really didn’t want to freak you out by asking to talk, but I just wanted it to be the two of us. You’re his first girlfriend, I just wanted to be able to tell you this personally…”

You nodded in understanding.

“Well, I’m sure Nat threatened you, and Rhodey told you everything would be okay, and that Wanda probably tried to befriend you, and that the guys all joked. So, I don’t want to do any of that. I just wanted to tell you, that boy loves with everything he has in him. He’d give his life for anyone deserving of it. Are you ready to be with someone like that? Because there are going to be times when he comes home hurt. Or maybe it’s worse than that. Are you ready to be his rock through that?” Tony asked.

His words rocked you. Of course, that was one of your number one worries now. But you were very surprised he was asking you about this. You thought of how you wanted to answer him. “Sir, I’m sure you want me to tell you that, yes I’m ready, I’ll be his rock and we’ll get through that and it’ll all be okay. And I’m certainly not going to tell you that no I’m not ready for that… but when Peter first told me I was so scared, but after that I accepted it. I know what the risks are. I know that when the time comes I’ll be a mess, but I want to be there for him. To help him. To support him. I know it will be hard, but it’ll be worth it ‘cause in the end, I get Peter out of it.”

Tony smiled softly and nodded. “I don’t think he could have picked someone better than you. If he ever forgets how lucky he is to have you, send him my way.”

“Send me your way, why?” Peter asked, handing his dad a glass.

“Thank you, Underoos,” Tony said, ignoring his question, he took a sip from his drink.

“Um,” You started, just as Peter wrapped an arm around you. “Can I ask about that?”

“What?” Tony asked. “Underoos?”

“Yeah,” you replied.

“No,” Peter answered quickly.

Just as Tony answered, “Absolutely.”

Peter groaned.

“When Peter was 5, I had just adopted him. And he refused to wear anything but onesies. For like the first 6 weeks that was all he’d wear.” Tony told you, smiling fondly at his son.

Peter pouted.

“And ironically now he wears one as his suit.” Tony chuckled.

You smiled, it was actually a pretty cute reason for such a strange nickname.

“Don’t even think about starting to call me that,” Peter threatened you.

You smiled innocently up at him. You were glad this didn’t turn out as terribly as you imagined. You could definitely learn to better enjoy your time with this family in your spare time.

[loveleads]

I Choose You Ella

You guys! I am wanting to share more of Ella’s story with y’all if that’s okay. I can promise you this, it will be long, it will be messy but yet it will also be beautiful, so so beautiful and I promise to be totally honest, raw and unedited. So friends, bear with me as I share my journey and my heart with you all.

December of 2015 I had a heart to heart with God, I remember tears flowing, heart breaking and dreams fading as I put in to words what I was feeling. As I sat there in my mess, I told the Lord He had two options (truth bomb, I know I know, the Jenna today wouldn’t give the Lord options, but Jenna 3 years ago did). The first option would be that He would grant me what I had asked of Him and I would get pregnant or He would need to take away the desire in my  heart to have another baby. I told myself I was fine either way, but the longing for another little Gruber was something I couldn’t shake.  

The end of January is when we found out about our sweet Ella. I was thrilled, a little surprised and totally grateful. When I found out I was pregnant with Wyatt, I was scared, unsure and unprepared. I didn’t know how to be a mom, I didn’t feel like I was ready to have children and I was certain we couldn’t afford a child at that time. When I found out I was pregnant with Maddy, I was certain there was no way my heart could ever love someone as much as i did Wyatt, so I was equally as scared and unprepared for Madelyn. This was the first pregnancy I felt like I was ready for. No doubt, no fear, no question about whether or not I was prepared. I learned with Madelyn that my whole heart could love each of my children equally and I knew I had more room in my heart for another child. I was ready, prepared and absolutely sure about this one. I considered myself a pro and thought I knew everything I needed to know about pregnancy and life with a newborn.

In March I went in for a routine ultrasound. I thought nothing of it and actually went in to the appointment eager to find out the gender of the baby. I was disappointed when the technician told me she couldn’t tell me anything about the baby and that she couldn’t answer any of my questions. I remember her being cold and short with me as she told me my doctor would be calling me soon. I had to follow up the ultrasound with blood work so I went directly to my doctor’s office for the blood draw. Mid draw,  the doctor raced in. I could tell in the way she spoke that something was wrong. She told the nurse to take more blood and looked at me to explain the situation. Something was found in the ultrasound and more tests were needed. 

The next morning we rushed to Eugene to see the specialist. We sat with a genetic counselor before we saw the specialist, she gave us all the worst case scenarios and explained to us all the options. After seeing the specialist, he confirmed what the ultrasound from the day before had seen and he sent us home. That two hour drive home was brutal. I sat in the passenger seat and cried, lots of ugly tears. I questioned everything and I honestly did not know what would happen next.    

As we drove home, we discussed what had just happened. We both so desperately wanted to hear that everything was going to be okay but didn’t. I left that appointment feeling heartbroken, I felt conflicted and I felt convicted. I had doctors telling me one thing about my baby and the word of God saying something completely different. The doctor said the chances of something being seriously wrong with our baby was 95% but then I had God’s word stored in my heart saying that my baby was fearfully and wonderfully made, created by God, in His image to be used for His glory. My head and heart said two completely different things and I was broken.

I remember the moment my doctor called me. I was at a local coffee shop having coffee with one of my best friends. One of the test results came back. She said it wasn’t bad but it also wasn’t good. She said we needed to make some plans. More tests meant more risk (with potential miscarriage) and termination of the pregnancy had to happen within a certain amount of time. I walked to the bathroom embarrassed by all the tears flowing down my face and I remember exactly where I stood as I told the doctor that we would not be terminating this pregnancy and we would not do any of the tests that ran the risk of miscarriage. As I said those words out loud I had a mixture of emotions. I felt relieved, happy, scared, uncertain, fearful and excited. I didn’t see what God saw in that moment. I didn’t know I was moving forward in trusting Him and His plans for my life. All I knew, was that my whole body was telling me I was wrong, to change my mind, to change our plans, to run and to run fast. I didn’t realize it at the time, but that was the first step to a beautiful journey that got me to where I am today. Jenna today isn’t perfect, I am a hot mess most days, but the Jenna today would have walked through that situation with much more expectancy, much more faith and much more confidence. Recently I was sharing Ella’s story with a dear friend, a mom who has been where I have been, who has successfully raised her daughter who also had some special needs growing up. I was saying how I wished I had the same confidence in Christ that I have now back then. That that confidence alone would have radically changed that year for me and for my entire family. You know what she said in response to that? She said, no, don’t do that. God knew exactly where you were and He knew what He was doing. Freedom!

Okay now back to the doctor’s phone call. Here I am standing in the bathroom of a local coffee shop, tears flowing as I am telling my doctor our plans. I remember her exact words to me, she said, and I quote “great! Now we have a plan and we will move forward with noninvasive testing.” Her words were simple and direct. She showed no emotion and didn’t question me and my decision. God’s littlest blessing right there. One of these days I plan on asking my doctor if she is a believer, because everything inside of me says she is and I know inside my heart that she extended much grace and love to me that day without even realizing it. Yes, she is my doctor and she can’t tell me what to do. But her words spoke directly to my heart as simple as they might have been, I felt comforted, I felt like we had someone on our side. She became such a pivotal part of my life that year. 

Matt and I sat at the edge of our bed one morning, talking to the doctor on the phone. After we talked about all the scary stuff, she asked me if we wanted to know the gender. We of course said yes. A girl. We both cried. Naming children is hard for us Grubers, we never seem to agree on names. But this one was different. We knew months before she was even created that her name would be Ella. Ella. This baby had a name, she was wanted, she had a purpose. Her name means light and although we didn’t know it at the time, she would become the very meaning of her name.

Over the next few months, it seemed like we couldn’t catch a break. One thing was ruled out and another thing became a concern. None of my other pregnancies were high risk, so the term alone scared me. It brought so much fear and uncertainties in to my life. I looked around at friends who were pregnant or just had their babies, all healthy and whole. My heart broke silently. I was jealous, envious, angry and confused. My life that year was hard. I closed off people who loved me, I told myself that no one else knew how I felt and therefor I didn’t want their encouragement, support or help, I cried all the time, I questioned every little thing I did and I sincerely wondered if this was all my fault. 

About a year ago I attended a book study with the ladies of my church. We read through the book called “The Emotionally Healthy Woman” (haven’t read it? DO IT! Life changing for sure). One of the chapters talked about Faulty Thinking. Faulty thoughts enter in to our minds if we allow them. They are the lies we tell ourselves that determine our attitude, it determines what we do and how we behave. Reading this book, God highlighted a faulty thought I held on to for over a year, one that almost destroyed me. When Ella’s ultrasound came back saying that something was wrong, I immediately felt responsible for it. Here I had two healthy children at home and I was asking for more. I told myself that God said no to me for so many months and yet I kept asking. After Ella was born that thought continued, I didn’t realize it at the time, but it would show its ugly head every now and again. Every time Ella had a test done, every time Ella struggled, every time she fell behind or was in pain, I blamed myself. My faulty thought told me I choose this life for Ella and now, I had to sit back and watch her struggle, watch her fall behind and watch her suffer. All because I wanted one more baby. I took this lie to heart and I felt it for a really long time without even realizing it was stored in my head, my messy, messy head. After Ella was born, the faulty thought hung out in the back of my mind and only came out in the hard times. It came out when we were waiting for test results, when we were waiting for referrals, when I sat in the hospital’s waiting room for a test to be completed and it came out every time I took Ella to the doctor’s office. It showed up on play dates with friends who have babies the same age as Ella and it showed up in my home, often. This faulty thought’s only mission was to destroy.

So, faulty thoughts can destroy, yeah I learned that the hard way. Once that lie was brought to light, it no longer had power over me. I was free from the thoughts that once held me captive. I began flooding my heart and mind with God’s truth. Every time a faulty thought popped up, I would give it no room to rest in me. I combated the evil thoughts with God’s truth. My sweet girl was the one we waited for. It took us months of disappointment because God knew exactly what He was doing. He knew our family needed this ONE. He knew I needed this one. He knew this world needed this one. He knew that this child would be the one who got my attention, the one who radically changed the way I see people, the way I see God, the way I see the world. I was a compassionate person before Ella, but man can I tell you the depths of my soul long to walk alongside women who are hurting, women who feel lost, women who feel alone. There is power in our story, if only we allow others to hear it.

Ella was dedicated a few weeks after she was born. I knew her life verse before I even opened my bible. 1st Samuel 1:27-28  “I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him. So now I give him to the Lord. For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord.” Friends, Ella’s story isn’t over yet. The first year of her life was some of my hardest days I’ve ever walked through. But that is another story for another day.