#Never felt at ease or safe at home or at school... My mom was my safe space but she still couldnt protect me

[mrfoox]

'huh... You have abandonment issues? I thought that was usually something you got from childhood trauma. Were you abandoned as a child?'

Me, trying not to cry: haha, not in the usual sense?

[chillinglyadventurous]

Fresh Start - Stanford Pines

Thank you to @ultravioletqueen for the request! I know it’s not the headcanons you requested, but I hope you still enjoy!

I could definitely be talked into a part 2 of this.

Tags: Fluff, mentions of abuse

“Hey mom,” you son called from down the hall, “is it okay if I go hang out with Dipper? His Grunkle Ford is taking us to find a monster in the woods.”

You looked up from your book to see Jack, your 13 year old, looking at you with puppy dog eyes. You had moved to Gravity Falls a few months ago. The divorce was messy. Your ex husband was a prick. You needed to get that boy out of there. Of course, you had been worried about moving to a new town. You had a job. You made friends easily, but your son wasn’t the same.

He was a shy boy, too intrigued by the supernatural for his own good. You were excited he found a friend, even if Dipper was only there in the summers to stay with his great uncles that lived in the local tourist trap.

You nodded. “Of course, honey. You need a ride over there?”

You’d met Stan before, Mr. Mystery. He wasn’t a good influence, but he was nice enough. You knew you could trust him to keep your kid safe. No part of you doubted that, but Jack had been gushing over Dipper’s other uncle, Ford. Jack had referred to him as a mad scientist. That made you a bit wary.

Monster. Yeah, that freaked you out too. You had heard whispers around town about last summer. You’d seen some weird things around Gravity Falls yourself, things lurking in the forest near your home. Some had even told you that you were so lucky you weren’t there last summer. You wondered what had happened. When you asked, you were always met with the same response: Never mind all that.

You parked your car out front of the Mystery Shack where Dipper was there to greet Jack, “Hey, man! You ready to go?”

“Dipper,” you began, “can I meet your Grunkle Ford before you guys get going?” You just wanted to be cautious. There were a lot of creeps in the world. Granted your ex husband knew most of them, but you always felt more at ease when you met someone before letting your kid have sleepovers or hang out at someone else’s house. “Would that be okay?”

Dipper nodded, but, before you could get inside, a man came out with a large backpack strapped to his back. For a moment, you thought it was Stan. He stood a bit taller than Stan, just enough for you to notice. His back was straighter and his glasses were cracked.

He gave you a warm smile, “Greetings! You must be [Y/N], Jack’s mother.” He took your hand in his. His handshake was firm. When he caught you mentally counting the fingers on his hands he pulled away. “You’ve got a smart boy, [Y/N]. I’ve never seen someone so young recite the first hundred digits of pi so quickly.”

“I even won a contest at my old school, for it, Ford!” Jack beamed up at the man you couldn’t stop staring at.

Ford ruffled his hair, “There’s nothing more fulfilling than academic achievement.” He gave loud laugh. “Boy, do I miss those college days.”

“Can I talk to you?” You said. You pointed towards the door to the Shack, eyes on Ford. He muttered a quick ‘certainly’ before following you inside. You could see the boys gabbing over what they were going to do. Jack seemed so excited. You hadn’t seen him that way in a long time. “I’m really excited Jack found a friend, but, if I’m being honest, the whole monster-hunting thing freaks me out a bit.”

Ford gave a curt nod. He could see your hesitation and understood it completely. He gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I can promise you,” he reassured, “I would never put Jack or Dipper in any danger.” Another warm smile stretched across his face. The lines by his eyes creased with his grin, “I haven’t told the boys yet, but this isn’t going to be some grand adventure. They’ll be a bit disappointed. We’re just going to catalog the migration patters of a local creature I’ve named beard cubs.”

“Harmless?” You wondered, giving him a soft look. Okay, he was normal-ish. This was fine.

A curt nod was given. “Absolutely. The worst that could happen is your teenager comes home with facial hair. You’re welcome to come if you’d like!”

“No,” you declined, “don’t want to risk becoming the bearded lady.”

Ford gave you a hardy laugh, “Very well. I’m assuming Jack has your phone number. I will give you a call when we return so you know we’ve made it back safely.” He shook your hand again. “It’s very nice to finally meet you, [Y/N]. Jack talks speaks very fondly of you.”

You gave Jack a quick hug before getting back into your car. It was cute the way the boys trudged after Ford. What really melted your heart was the way Jack looked up to Ford, completely enthralled by the amazing man leading him and Dipper into the woods.

Of course, a flutter was in your stomach. Family of your kid’s friends never led him off into the woods before, but nothing about Ford set off any red flags. He seemed safe, capable. You made a mental note to invite the Pines family over to dinner soon. They’d really made Jack feel at home in this little town.

By the time evening rolled around, you were standing in your kitchen washing dishes. Your phone was right next to you. Nothing yet. You were about to pick up the phone and call Jack when you heard a car pull up. The door opened, Jack and Dipper’s chatter filling the room.

“In here!” You called. Dipper and Ford followed your son into the kitchen. “You guys have fun?”

Dipper beamed at Jack, but Ford’s gaze was fixed on you. “As promised,” he smiled, “and no children with beards.”

The kids ran off up the stairs to Jack’s room. You dried your hands, turning to the man standing in the middle of your kitchen. You sat at the table and gestured for him to do the same. With this grace about him, he sat comfortably at your table.

“Jack didn’t cause you too much trouble, did he?” You were trying to make small talk, something you had always struggled with especially after your ex. Then, you had learned it was always better to stay quiet. You couldn’t fight if you didn’t speak. “He gets carried away sometimes.”

Ford shook his head. “Jack has never been any trouble. He’s actually very helpful. He’s very intelligent. He created this-“ Ford paused when a clatter came from up their stairs, “Is that normal?”

“Boys,” you shrugged.

Over the next few weeks, you had seen a lot of Ford. Dipper hanging around was normal. One night, they were both sleeping at your house. The next, they were at the Mystery Shack. It gave you some peace and quiet which you appreciated, but, soon, Ford was showing up at your door just to talk to you, often when Dipper and Jack were out exploring with Mabel.

You and Ford had grown quite friendly over that time. You would sit and chat about mostly nothing over tea or coffee or the occasional glass of wine. You were enjoying his company.

Tonight was one of those nights. Ford had brought Dipper and Mabel over for a sleepover. “I promise I made her leave the grappling hook at home,” Ford assured as the kids ran up the steps with their sleeping bags in tow. “I can’t promise, however, that she didn’t sneak it in her bag.”

“Eh,” you grinned. You motioned for Stanford to follow you into the living room. “Luckily, there’s nothing she can break.” Crash. You laughed as you plopped onto the sofa next to Ford. “So, no experiments to conduct tonight or are you just playing chauffeur?”

“Chauffeur.” He stared at you for a moment. You noticed that a lot lately. He reached out, brushing something from your cheek. “Sorry,” he blushed, “you had some flour or something-“

Before you could respond, three kids came barreling by you, “Hey, no running in the house, Jack!”

“Sorry, mom!”

They kept running. Mabel, however, stopped in her tracks. She had seen that. She saw the blushes and Ford’s hand on your face. “What’s going on here?”

“Mabel,” Ford warned. One of your eyebrows raised as you noticed his blush grow deeper, “Go play.”

Her feet planted themself in your throw rug. Her usually sweet grin was wicked, “Is Jack about to be my new cousin?”

Your back straightened. Had Jack said something? You didn’t think he had heard you on the phone with one of your friends from back home, yapping on and on about Jack’s friend’s hot uncle.

“Grunkle Ford has a crush on you!” She ran off.

You stared at Ford and he stared at you. Both of your eyes were wide. You two were concentrated on the other, looking for some sign that Mabel was lying.

That was when the boys came running by again, but it was Jack who stopped then. His grin was just as devious as Mabel’s had been. “Mom has a crush on you!”

Your head fell into your hands in embarrassment as the kids laughed maniacally in the distance. Ford was on his feet. For the first time ever, he was at a loss for words. His attention was only on you. A part of him was hoping you’d confirm what Jack had screamed. You wanted him to do the same. But, the silence ticked on. Even when you finally had the courage to see his face, he stood silent.

“Please apologize to your husband for me,” Ford’s voice was curt and dry. “I think this has gotten out of hand.”

You blinked as you tried to comprehend what he just said. His words weren’t really registering until he was opening the front door. “I’m not married. Not anymore, at least.” That seemed to catch his attention. Suddenly? You couldn’t stop yourself. When the subject had been broached in the past, you had avoided it masterfully. Now, you couldn’t. “Jack’s father and I divorced a little over a year ago. The yelling, the emotional manipulation, I couldn’t do it anymore. So, I left.”

Ford stared blankly at you, but you continued. “Jack’s telling the truth. Its silly. We’re grown adults. I know-“

He kissed you, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

“Awww!” Mabel cooed from the top of the steps, “Jack, you’re our cousin now!”

[vampyrial]

Sugar

summary: cooking for someone is the sweetest expression of love.

pairing: mark grayson x gn!reader

content warnings: soft yan!reader, poisoning, gaslighting, caretaking, fluffy if you ignore that reader is a lil crazy

author’s note: I never posted this here but in honor of s2 of invincible, here’s this fic I wrote after s1 😵‍💫 my first mark fic

Mark remembered his mom making pancakes on the weekends. It was his favorite breakfast when he was a kid. There was less time for sit down breakfasts as he grew older and spent more time outside the house working, going to school or hanging out with William, it remained a nostalgic thing for him. The smell of butter, the sizzle of the batter hitting the hot pan, he hadn’t realized he missed it.

Not until he woke up to the clattering of pans downstairs. Debbie was out for the day already, busying herself with work. As of late, the house had become stifling and she felt ill at ease. Mark was mostly left to his own devices for food and Mark being Mark, mostly subsisted on take out.

You had slept over (in the guest room, per Debbie’s request) and woken up early to make breakfast. Into the dry ingredients, you added a vial of powder as white as flour. You sprinkled it all in, hand inside the bowl, careful not to let it spill anywhere. You mixed carefully. With a focus as complete as ever, batter dropped onto the pan, sizzling. 

“Making breakfast?” His voice almost made you jump. You thought you were used to him sneaking up on you.

“Good morning to you too, Mark” You smiled to yourself, not looking up at him. “And yes, I’m making you pancakes.”

You didn’t look up but you could tell he was surprised by the pause and the awkward shift of his silhouette.

“I didn't…I know I only eat out these days but I don’t need you to cook for me, I feel kind of like an asshole watching you cook for me in my own house” He mumbled, looking away.

“I know I don’t need to, I want to. I’d feel better if you didn’t eat pizza everyday for breakfast.” 

“It’s not everyday, just…most of the time” He was embarrassed you’d noticed. “Are you not gonna have some?” He changed the topic. 

“I had four bowls of captain crunch at 5am, I’m not exactly sure more sugar is a good idea for me right now.”

You flipped the pancakes onto a plate, sliced a pat of butter onto the top and poured the syrup. Mark, even in his quest to be somewhat gentlemanly, could not resist. The first bite of the buttery pancakes drenched in the syrup evoked strong feelings. Longing, gratitude and love. The yearning for an innocence abandoned and the feeling of being loved was so strong he could cry.

Mark, like most teenage boys, could eat. You silently kept cooking pancakes and he kept eating them. It was a lovely morning, the air was sweet and the sky was a vibrant blue. You spent the day in Mark’s room, in pajamas, tracing shapes over his skin with your fingertips as you watched a marathon of movies he liked. He eagerly explained every gag and bit of trivia. But as the sky began to darken with the day’s end, Mark’s energy declined.

He was sluggish and he felt a bit warm. When he insisted he was alright, you still stayed by his side. A comfort he was secretly grateful for. Even when Debbie came home, fatigued, you kindly asserted that you would stay up with Mark and watch over him. It was only right, Debbie already had enough to deal with and she fussed over Mark until the early hours. If there was anyone she could trust Mark to, it would be you, just while she got some sleep at least.

You wiped the sweat from Mark’s brow with a gentle hand. You brought him water and aspirin, you rubbed his tender muscles, you changed his sheets soaked by sweat. Mark felt like shit but knowing you were there, unperturbed by his frequent vomiting, was a comfort beyond words. You even slept in the same bed as him now, holding his hand, rubbing over it with your fingers. He felt like a kid again, cared for and safe.

Even though after more than a week, Debbie wanted to bring him to the hospital, you waved away her concerns. “Part of this might be coming from Mark’s emotional state after what happened, maybe we have grief to blame for this, in part. Mark doesn’t need a hospital, his symptoms aren’t worse than the stomach flu, he just needs to be cared for” you had said, so convincingly, so knowingly, that it made her hesitate. You only had his best interests at heart. Mark even spoke up and said he didn’t need to go to the hospital. He had been in the hospital so often, he was sick of it. Even the memory of the strong antiseptic smell brought a sense of dread. He would rather be with you, at home being touched by your familiar, healing, hands.

He loved you so much, and told you as much very often. When you were showering with him, washing him because he was too winded; your wet, warm skin carefully cleaning his, he murmured ‘I love you.’ He was vulnerable, tender, worn and tired but he was certain of one thing. He couldn’t live without your warmth. Everyone else counted on him, they needed something from him and if he failed to deliver he’d be letting them down. It’d be another fuck up to add to the roster and yet another time someone he loved would look at him like a loser. But with you, he felt the closest thing to unconditional love he had ever experienced from anyone besides his mom. You didn’t care who he decided to help or what he messed up, you would always accept him. Even if you weren’t always pleased with what he did, you never judged him harshly for his mistakes. For his wins or his fails, you loved him. Mark thought it was way more than he deserved and part of him really did regret his actions more in the face of your forgiveness. He did feel like such an asshole when he found comfort in your acceptance, when you consoled him as if he really deserved it. But fuck if he didn’t need it.

He obviously couldn’t rush off saving people like he had, so he stayed safely inside. His world was small and manageable. His body was whole, if aching and feverish. That was what you intended. For Mark to be safe. He was always putting himself in danger like it didn’t matter, running off to save the world like no one else. Sometimes he would come back intact and sometimes he wouldn’t. Sometimes he was a hair’s breadth away from death. But Mark didn’t want to stay put, you weren’t strong enough to protect him directly and you couldn’t order him to. What were you to do?

A bit of poison wouldn’t do him in, in fact, you were certain it wouldn’t even keep him down very long. But buying even this amount of time was a blessing. You wanted to keep him safe, keep him inside forever if that’s what it took but that wouldn’t work. For now, you were just buying a little time and some peace of mind. You tell yourself you were driven to this.

A few days later, Mark’s strength had recovered somewhat. You fed him soup and he kept all of it down. He was relieved to be recovering even though he would miss being babied by you and Debbie’s worries eased meaning you were safe from her suspicion. He went back to school, back to saving the world eventually. You waited until enough time passed. Until you could return things to how they should be.

The moment came six months later, the previous night you two had been out with William and Eve. He’d rushed off to the city with Eve while you were in the middle of eating at some greasy pizza joint. Your heart fluttered as you gazed at the empty space next to you in the booth. At least Eve was with him, though it was a poor consolation. They were fighting the same aliens they were overwhelmed by a few weeks ago. He came home in one piece, thankfully, but he had been fighting so much lately. Cecil asked so much of him, he’d been flying off to this and that attack. He was bound to be hurt again soon, even just that month there had been threats he’d barely escaped from. It was your misfortune to fall in love with a hero, it meant that he would never really be safe and neither would you.

You called Mark to sleep over at yours when he came back that night. Your mother worked late or sometimes, simply didn’t want to come home so the house was yours. The two of you watched mafia movies, argued about whether the godfather was overrated or not and ate an ungodly amount of popcorn. The following morning, you cooked a big breakfast, muffins, bacon, omelets. Pancakes. 

He ate so hungrily it hurt your heart. He truly did love your cooking. Even though Debbie had gradually started making dinner for him again months ago, he had really missed your cooking. It wasn’t that her’s wasn't delicious, it was just…there was something that made him warm inside about the idea that you should make something for him. That you thought about him, cared about him enough. That much effort wasn’t necessarily a given in a high school relationship. It was new and nice to be with someone who showed their love for him so frankly.

You watched him eat with such a sweet look on your face. You ate with him, an omelette and bacon, for the sake of appearance. Planned out in anticipation of Mark’s tastes and in the interest of keeping suspicion to a minimum, you added your remedy to both the muffins and the pancakes. The muffins had less of it, as you knew Mark would be likely to eat more pancakes than muffins but if he chose to forgo that for the opposite, he would still be made ill. You even had plans for the unlikely event that he chose to eat neither. But Mark wasn’t rude enough to pass up food made for him by someone he loves.

Shortly after breakfast, Mark was in the bathroom vomiting. It seemed far more likely that the pizza joint with the sticky seats and chain smoking cooks gave him food poisoning than anything having been wrong with your food. In his head, it didn’t even occur to him. When you helped him into bed, he felt grateful that he was with you. It was such a relief not to say that he was fine, not to have to be brave. Nobody cared for him as gently as you did. 

Your sheets and your pillows smelled like you. Mark felt weird smelling your things but it was nice to be surrounded by comfort. You washed him in your soap so he smelled like you too. He couldn’t have wanted you more in that moment, he wanted your skin against yours. He wanted your voice, the brush of your fingertips against his. When he was well, he wanted to be someone you would be proud to be with. To be that hero you deserve. When he was this sick, he still had that desire lingering somewhere in the background but he melted down into the barest of wants. And what remained was a need for you, an uncomplicated desire. He felt as if he’d dissolve into your mattress if he couldn’t feel you.

“I’m right here, Mark” You murmured, cleaning the sweat from his chest with a cloth. You have such gentle hands, your eyes stay on his to make sure you’re not hurting him. Under your loving attention, a few tears roll down Mark’s cheek. He can’t help it, you’re always there for him. Without you, who does he have to lean on like this? His mom was already a wreck, Eve had her own problems, William had no idea how to deal with something as big as what he went through — he doesn’t even know how to deal with it. He cannot live without you, who doesn’t understand what he went through but understands what he needs better than anyone.

“What’s the matter? Does something hurt?” You asked, panicked at his tears. Mark didn’t cry easily, you hadn’t meant to put him in so much pain he’d cry. You had added just enough, you always operated on that balance. Just enough pain, just enough sickness, just enough time.

“No, it’s just-” Mark’s voice was raw. “I’m glad I’m with you, that’s all.”

You softened. Hearing him say that made you melt into a puddle of sticky sweet syrup. It only strengthened your resolve and you were overcome with the need to keep him safe. And with the knowledge that if something happened to him, you would die. When the savage, gruesome fight happened, your stomach was in knots for days while you heard no news. Your heart squeezed painfully as if you were going to have a heart attack and it went on for days. When you slept to escape the constant anxiety, you had nightmares. You didn’t even go to school, you couldn’t get out of bed for anything other than checking whether or not he’d come home. For weeks you lived in hell, thinking you would lose him. And although he was alright that time, a piece of that moment lived in you every time he flew off toward danger. 

“I love you so much, Mark” You bowed your head and rested it against his chest, hearing his strong heart beating. You pressed a kiss there, along the contours of his chest, right over his heart.

“I love you too” He mumbled weakly. There couldn’t be anything sweeter than you.

Your love was falling over him like powdered sugar. These moments, without knowing it, he had come to need them. Being sick was the only time he was allowed to fully be human. No one needed or expected anything of him. Under your care, he could be briefly vulnerable. 

That was all you needed to ease that inkling of guilt that rose in the back of your mind. Who was protecting him like he protected everyone else? No one but you. It was why you had to resort to using underhanded methods, if everyone was trying to protect him, if they only cared — you wouldn’t need to. That was what you reasoned, anyway.

Mark needed you, anyone with eyes could see that. And you had no intention of abandoning him. Whatever you had to do, in your eyes it was all the desperation of a powerless human trying to save the man they love. It was romantic, even. You anticipated the moment where Mark might put two and two together. It made you anxious and you had practiced the speech you’d give him a thousand times. “I love you and I’m scared. I’m so scared for you. I always am." But you soothed yourself with the knowledge that Mark would understand, above anyone else, you’d earned the benefit of the doubt.

Because Mark knew what he needed, even if it was something he couldn’t have expressed on his own. Even if it was something that he shouldn’t. He was only human — even if he was half viltrumite — could he really deny your feelings and his own? No. Not when you were his saving grace. How could he not understand what you were trying to do when his sentiments were nearly the same?

You were watching Mark sleep, laying next to him, his arm around you. His skin was warm and his breaths were labored. You reassured yourself as you pulled the blanket up to his chest. You would take good care of him, he knew that. He had to, he had to know. He just had to.

[elllisaaa]

ateez as lana del rey songs - hyung line

-> pairing : ateez hyung line x fem!reader

-> words count : 3.7k words

-> genre : angst, toxic relationships, break-up stories

-> warnings : a loooot of angst under many forms, mentions of complicated childhood, self-depreciating thoughts

-> sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !

-> masterlist | ateez masterlist | 1k event masterlist

hyung line | maknae line

KIM HONGJOONG - HOPE IS A DANGEROUS THING FOR A WOMAN LIKE ME TO HAVE

Being the eldest of a big family that was always short on money taught you some sense of responsibility a little too early. You spend your whole childhood taking care of your siblings rather than going out to play with the few friends you managed to keep. And as you grew up, your parents relied on you more and more. Instead of hanging out with your friends when you were in high school, you had to pick up your younger siblings at school and bring them home, you had to do all the chores your parents supposedly couldn’t do. When you were still too naive to understand, you thought it was normal, that it was your duty as the eldest. But you later discovered that they spent their days getting drunk, that they quitted their jobs often, that they were the reason you had to cut your own hair and that you couldn’t have your bike repaired by a professional. 

The more you matured, the more you realized how unfair the situation was. The day when your youngest sister called you “mom”, it was like everything finally clicked, like the puzzle’s pieces finally came into place. You felt so much guilt for letting them down, but your brother was now old enough to take care of everyone for you while you studied and maybe have the chance to finally help them get out of the hell they were raised into. 

And you succeeded. You became an editor like you always dreamt about when you were a kid. But the feeling of not belonging anywhere was still there. You felt like an imposter, like you had no right to be where you were now. It all changed when you met Hongjoong at a party your company organized for the release of a new book from one of your star authors. He was charming, outgoing and he made you feel at ease, he made you feel like you belonged with all these people you usually felt so distant from. 

And it was always like that with him, even when he invited you to some fancy restaurant for your dates, he made you feel safe and accepted you just as you were. It was all a dream, you were living the life you wanted when you were a little girl. Hongjoong gave you everything you wanted, even when you didn’t ask for anything. You were showered with gifts, you were wearing brand clothes, had your nails and hair done all the time, and you felt like a princess. Hongjoong gave you everything you needed, and more. He loved you, and you thought that nothing could ever separate the two of you.

But just like when you were a child, the fairytale didn’t last. When you were with him, everything was right, but the second he left your side, it was like everything was back to normal, as if people saw you like you were : a girl who never had money, a girl who didn’t fit in this rich’s man world, a girl who smiled for miles in pink dresses and high heels on white yachts, but you were not. Most of the time, you just felt like a trophy wife, and everyone saw you as a gold digger. And you ended up believing all of that. Despite Hongjoong trying his best to reassure you, you couldn’t believe him. It was impossible when you were remembered of your status everywhere you went, when everyone made sure to remind you where you were coming from. 

“- I just… I can’t keep pretending Joong, it’s too hard for me.”

You had tears in your eyes as you tried not to look at him too much, afraid that your resolve would crumble as soon as you crossed his gaze. 

“- But it’s not pretending, baby. You have every right to be a part of their world, of my world. I don’t want to break up with you over some dumbass that can’t see how incredible you are.”

What you always loved about Hongjoong was also what you hated the most in this instant ; his ability to give you hope in every situation. But hope was a dangerous thing for a woman like you to have, a dangerous thing for a girl that never had anything to have. But you had it, he gave it to you and you had to force yourself to let it go to stay sane.

“- You know that they’ll never learn their lessons, they will always see me like some intruders that infiltrated their circle. And I just can’t take it anymore.”

Hongjoong took one step ahead, his hands finding yours and like a reflex, you intertwined your fingers with his. Everything with him felt so natural, but the rest of the world, of his world wasn’t ready to accept it, and you couldn’t put yourself through another mentally draining relationship. You were already seeing all the arguments, all the doubts, and the tragic end of it all. And you’d rather leave him with only good memories rather than after months of fights, tears and screams. 

“- I don’t understand where all this is coming from. You seemed so at ease. Weren’t you happy ?

- Don’t ask if I was happy, ‘cause you know that I was not. You understand me better than anybody else Joong, you knew it was a mask all along right ?”

And he only nodded. He tried to convince himself that you were sincerely alright, but he couldn’t deny the truth when you were telling him face to face.

“- But at best I can say I’m not sad. I’ve never been sad by your side. You deserve better than me.

- I don’t want anybody else, Y/N.”

And you didn’t want anybody other than him, your heart was yelling at you to stay in his arms forever, but your brain couldn’t accept it yet. Maybe that one day, you will be able to disregard all the critics. Maybe that one day, you will be able to face your problems and not run away from them. Maybe that one day, you will stop pushing away your happiness and the people that brought you joy only because you were scared. Maybe. But for now, you had to leave and hope that you made the best decision - even if right now, seeing Hongjoong begging you to stay with him, it felt like anything but a good choice.

PARK SEONGHWA - 13 BEACHES

Seonghwa had always been a part of your life. When you were in middle school, you would spend every break together even if you weren’t in the same class. When you were in high school, you spent all your weekends at each other’s house and skipped the classes you found boring together. When you went away to college, he became your roommate and your only focal point. So you weren’t surprised when you realized that you had fallen in love with him one day. It had been slow, but your affection for him only developed and bloomed with the years, growing from an innocent crush to a real attraction that you couldn’t ignore anymore. 

You tried to get past your feelings anyway, pushing back your revelation to the back of your mind, and acting like you usually did before this epiphany. You even tried to go on more dates with other guys in hopes it would be enough to tone down everything you felt for Seonghwa, but it obviously didn’t work. When you were only happy to have someone to hug a week before, the cuddle sessions had suddenly turned into something a lot more meaningful, a lot more intimate. And even if you didn’t want it, everything had in fact changed and there was only one thing you could do about it : confess.

You were afraid to break your ten years long friendship, of course, but you had to tell him for the sake of your mental health and because you didn’t want to lie to him. You still remembered every word your pronounced to this day, and you also remembered clearly the tears that fell down his cheeks as he held you tight, telling you that he was the happiest man on earth, that he couldn’t have asked for a better gift and that he was ready to do everything for you and your well-being. 

And it honestly all felt like a dream. Seonghwa was caring, treated you like a princess and he was your number one supporter. Your family loved him, and his loved you too. You thought that you were going to marry him, that you were going to grow old with him, that you were going to spend your whole life with him. And at that time, it was all you wanted, it was all you needed to be happy.

The downhill came in slowly, unexpectedly. One day, the sun was shining, birds were singing and Seonghwa loved you. And the next day, the sky was covered in gray clouds, rain was pouring and you were only able to communicate by screaming at each other’s faces. But you tried to make it work, you made up each and every time. And you believed everyone around you telling you that it took some arguments and efforts to make a couple stronger. So despite all the signs telling you to leave him, that it clearly wasn’t good for either of you anymore, you still stayed, and Seonghwa did the same. You didn’t want to waste all these years together, you didn’t want to simply let go of the most important person of your life. 

But in the end, you realized you had to, that it did more wrong than good to stay with someone you couldn’t live with anymore. Because the issue was not that you stopped loving him, on the contrary, it was that you weren’t compatible anymore. It hurt to love him, but you still loved him, it was just the way you felt and you couldn’t change it. And when you talked about it, Seonghwa felt the same way. It didn’t surprise you ; you’ve always been on the same page. But it still was difficult - so fucking difficult - to leave each other, to leave the person you had grown up with, to leave the person that literally knew all of you, to leave the person you had loved for you entire life and still didn’t stop loving. 

It was scary to suddenly be on your own, but it was even scarier to notice that everywhere you went, Seonghwa was always there too. Could you really let go and let his memories dance in the ballroom of your mind ? Every little thing reminded you of him. All the things he liked were engraved in your mind and you thought about him every time you saw one of them. You wanted to text him everyday, you wanted to call him and tell him about the silliest details of your life before having to remind yourself that he was not there anymore, that he was gone. 

“- But you still can find me if you ask nicely, bunny.”

You smiled at him, but the intensity of his gaze never failed to make your heart skip a beat, even still now.

“- You have a girlfriend Hwa. I don’t think she would like to know that you’re still seeing your ex, you know ? And you seem happy, I don’t want to ruin it all because I’m selfish and I can’t move on when you clearly did.”

Sometimes, you would crack and ask Seonghwa to meet up at the coffee shop where you used to study when you were still in college. Sometimes, it warmed your heart to be able to see him, to be reminded that despite everything that happened, nothing really changed. But sometimes, you walked away even more hurt than when you got there, because you saw everything that you lost and that you were never going to get back. It felt wrong to let him take your hands, but it made you feel alive again.

“- I don’t care about all that. You know what you mean to me, right ? I’m never letting you down, even if you’re my ex. Never. 

- Don’t do that, please…

- Do what ?

- Make me feel like you still love me.”

Tears were prickling your eyes, and you could see Seonghwa’s eyes shining more than usual, you could hear the shaking in his voice and the emotion behind his words when he talked again.

“- That’s because I still love you. I think I’ll love you forever. You’re my soulmate.”

And it was the problem. Soulmates were supposed to stay together forever, but all that he did was leaving. Leaving and leaving again. Maybe you should move on. Surely. But you couldn’t. After all, you loved him too. 

JEONG YUNHO - SUMMERTIME SADNESS

Family vacations had never been your cup of tea : you couldn’t do everything you wanted, you had to watch over all your little cousins and you couldn’t even go out at night. Too many people, too many family members you didn’t even like and not even the opportunity to make friends for the month you had to spend there.

That was your opinion before you met Yunho. You only played volleyball with him and his friends at the beach one day because they were missing one person for their team, and the two of you naturally clicked. It was like you had known him for years, when it only really had been a couple of days. But it didn’t matter because it was summer and that you wanted to have a good time and only that. 

So you started to ditch your family and the group activities to go spend time with Yunho instead. Sometimes his friends were there too, and sometimes you were alone with him. And even if you sincerely appreciated his friends’ company, you preferred when it was only the two of you. He was kind, caring, funny and attentive. He took you out at night, paid for your drinks and complimented you constantly. 

It all felt like a little bubble, far away from your responsibilities and the adult life, far away from all your worries, far away from everything that wasn’t Yunho. He honestly looked too good to be true but you decided to take what he had to give and not think too much about the moment it would have to stop. So when he drunkenly kissed you one night at the bar near the beach, you kissed him back. And when he asked you to spend the night with him, you agreed in the blink of an eye. 

No one had ever made you feel as alive as him, and you knew if you went away, you'd die happy that night - all the memories of your adventures engraved in your mind forever. But when the time came to say goodbye, it felt way more heartbreaking than it should’ve been. Yunho was only supposed to be a fun pass time during your holidays, he was supposed to stay the guy you had met this summer that you would tell your friends about, but he was so much more than that. Yunho was the guy you told your whole life to because you simply felt so at ease, so comfortable with him. Yunho was the guy who healed all the wounds everybody had left on your body. Yunho was the guy who made you believe in love again. 

“- I’m going back home tomorrow.”

It was too hard saying that and looking him straight in the eyes at the same timeç, so you directed your gaze to the waves crashing on the sand instead. The moon was shining in the sky, and you could see a ton of stars illuminating the darkness of the night. 

“- I don’t want you to.

- Me neither.”

And you finally crossed his eyes ; they were glistening with the same sadness, the same melancholy, the same gut wrenching feeling as yours. You just wanted to throw yourself in his arms and never let go. But you couldn’t. 

“- At least, give me your number, please. I can’t let you walk away without even trying.

- We’re literally living in different countries, Yunho. It’s impossible.”

And he knew it too. He knew it from the start but he couldn’t resist you, he couldn’t help being attracted to you. He had to try, he had to show you that you changed the course of his life forever.

“- Then kiss me hard before you go.”

This time, you accepted his request. You cradled his face in your hands, and you let yourself taste him one last time. You’ll probably miss him forever, like the sun misses the stars in the morning sky. And he would miss you forever too. So you were going to hold on to the memory of this night when he told you he loved you, with the sound of the ocean serving as a background noise and the moon casting shadows over his perfect face that you could have recognized even if you were blind. Yunho was the kind of person you could never forget, and it hurt more than what you could’ve imagined. 

KANG YEOSANG - BORN TO DIE

You never planned anything in your life, you loved when things were unexpected and you loved to be surprised. But you never meant to fall in love with Yeosang, and maybe it would’ve been better if you didn’t. It had nothing to do with him, it had to do with his life, with yours, with the timing. When you met him, he was already very busy with his job, and you knew it was gonna be hard but you were willing to support him through whatever it would take. 

These three words were never pronounced, you never had the nerves to actually put a label on what the two of you were because the lines were blurry from the start, and you were too afraid to clear them out. But it was implied : you knew it and he knew it too - or at least you thought. You were not in the best mental state when you first met him, and you knew it was complicated for him too. Usually, you would have never got involved with someone like that, but there was just something about Yeosang that you didn’t understand but that attracted you like crazy. 

So you ignored all the red flags ; you ignored the time he was taking to answer your texts because when you actually talked, it was incredible and it felt like you had known him for years, you ignored all the signs your friends pointed out about his behavior because he made you feel heard during a time when you felt so alone. You ignored everything that went wrong because you didn’t want to lose him, because you didn’t want to let him go despite how distant he became after some time. 

And you let him have that space, you let him go away for a bit because you truly loved him, because you truly wanted to help him. The thing was that Yeosang wouldn’t let you do that. To him, everything was alright, he was doing good - even if everyone around him could tell that he was clearly not. And you couldn’t help someone that didn’t want your help, right ? But you still tried, you still insisted. You kissed him hard in the pouring rain, because he told you that he liked his girls insane. You took an interest in all the things he liked because you wanted to feel closer to him. You did everything you could to be by his side but it never seemed to be enough - you never seemed to be enough. 

But you always tried to find a way to defend him ; he was not in the right mental place, he was only putting on a mask with other people but with you he was different. Deep down, he was a good guy. Because you weren’t the best to be around at that time either ; you were always insecure, always needed reassurance, you couldn’t be left alone or you would sink down the rabbit hole of your thoughts, you needed a reason to wake up in the morning and it was hard to find one most days. But he had became a good reason. Except that it wasn’t the right time. None of you were doing well, none of you were ready to be in a relationship, and it all went down. 

“- I don’t even understand you anymore, Y/N ! What do you want from me ?

- The only thing I’ve ever wanted was you, for fuck’s sake ! Is that too much to ask ?

- Maybe.”

You felt a pang in your chest when you crossed his cold gaze. You knew it was all an act, as always, you knew that he was lying because he wasn’t ready to open his heart to anyone, but it hurt nonetheless. 

“- You don’t mean that, Yeo…

- I do, stop assuming that you know me better than myself.”

You tried to stop the tears from falling down your cheeks, but Yeosang was on the verge of crying too. Despite everything he said, he was perfectly aware that you knew him better than himself, and it broke his heart to let you go but he had to. You were right for him, but it was the wrong time. And you knew it too, so you had to choose your last words - this was the last time, because you and him, you were born to die. 

“- Don’t make me sad, please, don’t make me cry. You know that sometimes love is not enough.”

And that, Yeosang knew for sure. Because if love had been enough, he would’ve never let you go. If love had been enough, he would’ve spent forever by your side. But it was impossible. Right now, he couldn’t stay with you without destroying both of you, but he had some hope that when he would be in a better place, he could find you again and love you like you deserved to be loved, treat you like the queen you were. Yeosang never believed in fate, but you came into his life for a reason, you came to make him realize everything that he ever did wrong. But he did you wrong in the process too. One day, he’ll make this right. Hopefully.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

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[shion-yu]

A Safe Place (part 4/4) [day 24]

Cliff’s past experiences in hospitals have all been bad. For @monthofsick day 24: Panic and @badthingshappenbingo Paralyzed by Fear. 3,698 words, original work, TWs emeto (mild x1), hospital/surgical content, child abuse/trauma. If you'd like to skip the first half which is a childhood flashback, control-find the word “eighteen”.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 - This is the final part! Thanks for sticking with me guys.

Cliff’s fear of hospitals first began when he was three years old. He’d been inside the hospital several times because his dad worked there, but he hadn’t really processed it as anything significant until one day when he went there with his mother, who’d been tasked with watching him because the nanny was off. Cliff had been doing everything “wrong” that day, and Hana Barrows had reached her limit after a spilled glass of orange juice. She dragged him by the wrist to the car and drove to the hospital, swearing loudly all the way there. Cliff was silent because even back then he knew that saying anything would just make things worse.

Hana brought Cliff up to Dr. Claude Barrows’ office without warning, ignoring the secretary shouting after her as she passed without signing in. She yanked Claude’s door open without knocking and found him hunched over a pile of paperwork.

“What in the - Hana! What on earth are you doing here?! Why is Cliff here?”

“I’m not a babysitter!” She shouted as she shoved Cliff towards his father, who would have fallen on his face had Claude not caught him. “You promised me I’d never have to babysit!”

“Keep your voice down,” Claude hissed. He sat Cliff on the chair he’d been sitting on and turned to his irate wife. “It’s one day in his entire life Hana, one goddamn day.”

Hana let out an angry groan of frustration and slapped her hands on Claude’s chest, grabbing the lapels of his lab coat and pulling him forward. “I never wanted this! I’m not doing it!”

They squabbled for another few minutes, young Cliff staring at his velcro-up shoes and distracting himself trying to remember how the last nanny had taught him how to tie laces. He’d forgotten how after his mom fired her, because Cliff had been too attached to her.

“You can’t leave him here Hana, I’m working,” Claude said finally, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Well figure it out, because I’m not taking him home with me,” Hana snapped back. With that she stalked out of the office, not stopping despite Claude shouting after her. He followed her out, and Cliff was left alone in his dad’s office, on his big spinny office chair, with no idea what he was supposed to do now. He was old enough to know that his parents didn’t like him, although he didn’t understand why. He didn’t talk much but they still said he was too noisy. His big sister Moira was nice to him, but that was when she was around. Usually she was too busy with her high school friends and sports to be home much.

Cliff tried to climb down from the chair, but it was really tall and he was afraid of falling. Still, he eased his lower half down, stretching his short legs to try and feel for the floor. He felt it all at once when he fell, smacking his forehead on the hard floor. He bit his lip, trying not to cry. His parents hated when he cried. Still, he couldn’t help it as a few little tears rolled down his chubby cheeks.

“Did you fall, honey?”

Cliff looked up to find a young woman kneeling in front of him. He nodded, wiping his face with tiny fists. “Aw, poor thing,” she said.

“He’s my son. Do you like kids?” Dr. Barrows was back, standing in the doorway - without Cliff’s mom.

“Yeah, totally,” the girl said. “Sorry Dr. Barrows, it’s just I heard a kid crying and the door was open so-”

“It’s fine,” Cliff’s father responded. “Actually, I need you to watch him for the rest of the day.”

“M-me? But, um, I’m a medical student, I don’t think...”

“Part of being a doctor is doing what your attending orders, and I’m telling you to babysit my kid until my shift ends at seven,” Dr. Barrows said sharply. “Is that a problem?”

“No - I mean, sort of, my clinical ends at four, and-”

“Great. I don’t care what you do with him, just keep him out of the way. I’ll pay you for your time.” Dr. Barrows ignored any further protest from the student and shoved two hundred-dollar bills in her hand before leaving.

The student shook her head in disbelief. “Alright, Cliff is it?” She asked. Cliff nodded, clutching the hem of his shirt nervously. “Right. Well, Cliff, I guess it’s you and me until seven...”

The student was nice, all things considered, but she clearly had no interest in babysitting. She had long legs and walked so quickly that Cliff had to run to keep up. A lot of times she’d turn a corner before he did and he thought he’d lost her, but she always found him again. They ate lunch in the cafeteria and she let him draw with a pen and a piece of printer paper while she did work. Cliff honestly didn’t understand what was going on, but he went with it because he was taught not to complain and didn't want to be left behind.

It was around 5pm when the student said, “You’d rather be with your dad, right? He has a pretty cool facial reconstruction starting now. Let’s go watch.” She led Cliff to the gallery, a large room with chairs above the surgical theater with a glass window for an audience. Cliff’s dad was scrubbed in, hyper focused and didn’t notice the spectators. “The surgery will last a few hours,” the student told Cliff. “I’m going home, so just stay here and don’t move until your dad comes and gets you.”

Cliff looked at her, confused. She was going to leave him here by himself? “It’s fine,” she said. “Your dad’s right down there. Just stay where you are and whatever you do, don’t move from this room, got it?” Cliff had no other choice but to nod obediently. Then he was alone.

At first, Cliff was excited to see what his dad did for work. A large woman was lying on the table - sleeping, Cliff thought - and everybody was dressed in funny clothes. His dad was wearing a long mint gown, goggles and a puffy scrub cap, which made him laugh. That laughter died in his throat when he saw his father take a long, silver knife and cut into the sleeping woman’s face.

Cliff screamed, but nobody was there to hear him. He started to panic and it felt like there was no air in the room. There was blood and the sound of a drill. Cliff began to cry, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the horrible scene. His father seemed to be tearing this lady’s face apart, and he did so for two hours before pulling the skin back up and sewing it all back together.

“Wonderful,” his father said in a confident tone. “Good work gentlemen.” Someone was helping him take off his bloody robes. At this moment, he finally looked up at what should have been an empty gallery, but instead he saw his traumatized three year old son. “What the hell? Is that my son?” Cliff heard him say loudly. Cliff was terrified. What if his father got mad and did the same thing to him? He hid under a chair in the corner of the gallery until his father flew into the room and dragged him out.

“I’m sorry, I stayed like she told me to, I’m sorry,” Cliff sobbed. He was so scared, pushing his father’s face away. He kept thinking of how bloody his dad’s hands had been. “Don’t hit me!”

“Cliff, shut up, you’re embarrassing me,” Claude said angrily. “It’s not your fault though, that stupid medical student - her career is over,” he growled. “Come on. Let’s go home.” He picked Cliff up and carried his crying child out of the hospital, and together they went home. They never talked about what Cliff had seen, but for years he had nightmares about it. He was scared of what his father was capable of, and every time Claude yelled at him or hit him, Cliff wondered if it would go further - if he’d end up on that table being cut up next if he didn’t behave.

By the time Cliff reached middle school, he understood that his father’s job was to be a surgeon and that he actually helped people, even if it was scary - and horrible - to see in person. But when he had his stomach ulcer and had to be hospitalized for a few days, his fear of hospitals was renewed and solidified. His parents were furious at him. Even with a fever and in so much pain, his father yelled at him every step of the way. Every time Cliff cried, or threw up, or panicked because he was afraid of needles, it was made ten times worse by his parents’ obsession with Cliff not spoiling their image of what a perfect son should be like. The pressure they put on him while he was in the hospital just made him sicker. It was a terrible experience, and Cliff vowed never to let himself get sick enough to end up in a hospital again.

Unfortunately, these sorts of decisions are not truly one’s own. Now Cliff was in the hospital with pneumonia, and although he was eighteen and told himself he was an adult who knew better, he was still scared. It was a different hospital, but everything smelled the same. The nurses acted the same - nice, but brisk. He felt the same helpless feeling of being surrounded by people who didn’t understand him, and most of all he was terrified of his father finding out he was here. He was sure he’d be furious if he discovered Cliff had ended up here after disrespecting his mother by leaving home. He thought about ripping the IV tubing out of his arm and making a run for it, but he didn’t think his legs would hold him.

When Elliot was next to him, Cliff felt like he could keep it together. After all, he’d never had someone like Elliot to hold on to during these scary moments before. But now Elliot had gone home for the night and Cliff was alone in a tiny room without windows in the hospital, and he was losing it.

Cliff didn’t realize he was having a panic attack until the nurse came in because his heart monitor was going off. She tried to settle him down, speaking to him in hushed tones and reassuring him that he was safe, but he didn’t believe her. All he could think about was his prior bad experiences in hospitals. His entire chest felt tight and he was crying, which made it difficult to breathe in conjunction with his already junky lungs.

“Cliff, you need to slow down your breathing for me,” the nurse said, but Cliff couldn’t. He couldn’t control it. He was just as scared as the day he’d hid under the chair above the operating room from his father, abandoned and afraid to trust anybody.

The thing that did stop him panicking was the uncontrollable coughing fit that came on. All the tears and snot that came with crying choked him, and then he couldn’t stop. He coughed until he vomited onto his lap, tears and mucus mixing into a horrible puddle that he could feel seeping through the sheets onto his legs. He was so disgusting, he couldn’t stand himself. Elliot was right to leave him here alone.

The nurse called the other nurse for backup, and soon they were changing Cliff’s sheets together, changing his nasal cannula to a simple face mask while he was so snotty from crying, and one of them administered something through his IV that made him feel sleepy. Cliff’s nurse asked him if it would make him feel better to call his boyfriend.

“What time is it?” Cliff asked, his voice hoarse from crying and throwing up.

“Eleven,” she told him.

Cliff shook his head no. He had already woken Elliot up enough times this week. “It’s okay. He’s probably asleep.” They hadn't agreed on a time that Elliot was going to come back, Cliff realized. Elliot had said he’d be back in the morning. The morning could be eight, or it could be as late as noon. That was, if Elliot came back at all. No, he'd come back. Elliot kept his word - usually. Then again, Cliff had never expected Elliot to trick him into coming to the hospital. He understood he was really sick and needed help, he did, but the betrayal still stung.

After his nurse did another albuterol treatment through the mask, she changed Cliff back to a new (not snot-clogged) nasal cannula and left him to get some sleep. Cliff couldn’t rest though. Even with the lights off, all the machines cast a glow that kept the room too bright. The faint beeping of his heart monitor and the drip of his IV fluids reminded him too much of the last time he was in the hospital, and he felt vaguely nauseous despite being sure there was nothing left in his stomach. He curled in a tight ball and held his knees to his chest, trembling. He missed Elliot and wished he was here to make him feel safer right now. Instead, all he had was himself and a very long night ahead of him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Cliff woke up drenched in sweat. He didn’t know where he was and immediately began to panic, but then he felt someone pushing him back down and shushing him.

“Elliot?” Cliff blinked in confusion. He’d finally cried himself to sleep in the wee hours of the morning but he hadn’t expected to sleep long enough that it was already within business hours. “What time is it?” His voice crackled, laden with wetness, and he let out a congested, barking cough. It made his sides ache and he gripped them automatically.

Elliot smiled at him and ran a delicate hand through Cliff’s damp hair. “Hi baby,” he said fondly. “It’s about nine AM.”

“Really?” Cliff glanced around, slowly remembering the details of yesterday. “I’m so hot,” he muttered.

“I think your fever broke,” Elliot said gently. “How do you feel?”

Cliff considered things. He felt significantly less achy than last night and it was easier to breathe. He didn’t feel like his brain was entirely full of sand - maybe just halfway. “Better,” he said. “Can I go home?”

“That’s up to the doctor,” Elliot said. “I ordered you some breakfast though. Do you feel up to eating? I got you oatmeal and toast.”

Cliff grimaced, remembering all the vomiting he’d done yesterday. “I’m not sure.”

“You can see how you feel when it gets here,” Elliot said. “The nurse said your breathing got a lot better after your second steroid injection.”

Only now did Cliff notice the lack of oxygen tubing on his face. He’d fallen asleep with it on and Cliff was shocked he’d really been so passed out that the nurse had been able to give him IV meds, do vitals, and remove his oxygen without waking him up. He must have been truly exhausted.

“Thanks for coming back,” Cliff said suddenly, looking at his hands instead of Elliot’s face.

“Of course I came back,” Elliot responded. “I promised you, didn’t I?”

Promises didn’t always work out, Cliff thought to himself, but he just nodded yes. “Well, I missed you,” was all he responded. “So thanks.”

He was surprised by the quick kiss that Elliot stole from him, even though he hadn’t brushed his teeth since yesterday morning. “E-Elliot,” he stuttered, red faced as he sat back and covered his mouth with his hands in embarrassment.

“I missed you too,” Elliot said. His smile was so kind and genuine. It made Cliff feel so much better. “You did incredible staying here overnight by yourself.”

Cliff understood that Elliot was babying him a little, but he also realized that he was unable to stop himself from smiling into his hands. Something inside him felt so content when Elliot was proud of him. He wanted to feel like that over and over.

Breakfast arrived and Cliff picked at the food, trying to get down a few bites mostly because Elliot was staring at him so hopefully. He really wasn’t hungry, but he managed half of a piece of toast and two bites of oatmeal before he couldn’t manage any more. It was difficult to eat when his cough was still so harsh, overtaking him at random moments and leaving him doubled over in bed, his arms clutching his sides in pain. At least he managed to keep the food down, though.

The doctor came by shortly after Cliff finished eating and examined him. He listened to Cliff’s lungs and cough, nodding along with his own conclusions. “I believe it’s safe to send you home, but you have to promise to rest and do nothing else for several more days,” he said finally. “How does that sound to you?”

Cliff nodded in agreement. He’d gladly stay in Elliot’s bed for another week if it meant getting rid of this awful cough - preferably, far away from any hospitals. Elliot awkwardly raised his hand a little before speaking. “Excuse me Doctor, but we start classes back at school in the city on Monday. Will he be okay by then?”

“Hmm. You’ll have to play that by ear, but as long as he gets proper rest and takes his meds, no fevers, then probably. Do you have to walk far to get to class?”

Cliff shrugged. Sometimes, not always. Elliot answered for him though. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t walk too much,” his boyfriend said confidently.

“In that case, I’m not concerned about discharging him,” the doctor said. “I’ll put in the orders and we’ll have you out of here in a few hours. I do recommend you keep using a nebulizer at home for a few days and as needed, do you have one?”

Cliff shook his head no at the same time Elliot said, “We’ll get one for him, we just need the medicine.”

“You’ve got someone taking good care of you, I see,” the doctor chuckled. “I’ll write scripts for that too then. Make sure you follow up with an asthma doctor as soon as you can.”

Elliot thanked the doctor several times, Cliff echoing the sentiment with a simple thank you, and then all they had to do was wait for paperwork. In the meantime the nurse helped Cliff get back into normal clothes, took out his IV and detached him from all the equipment. He had sticky residue on his finger and chest from the oxygen and heart monitoring leeds that didn’t seem to want to come off, but it didn’t matter. He’d have plenty of time to scrub it off later. Cliff was just relieved to be escaping this place without a longer stay or his father finding out and showing up.

At discharge, Elliot bundled Cliff up in a warm jacket and hat even though it was late August. He pushed Cliff in a wheelchair down to the lobby, then ran to get the car. Cliff insisted he could walk, but he wasn’t entirely convinced of his own strength right now so didn’t push the matter much. He waited patiently for Elliot and waited to feel relieved for when they had officially left the premises of the hospital. It had only been one night, but it felt like a long time. The fresh air felt good on his skin and he took a deep breath, appreciating it even as it made him cough.

Elliot pulled up at patient pickup and helped Cliff into the car, settling him in the passenger’s seat. “My mom’s gonna pick up all your meds and find a nebulizer for you at home,” he explained as he drove. “We’re going to follow all the directions to a tee, get you straightened up before we head back to school this weekend.” He sounded confident about this plan, as if it were foolproof. “Do you want to shower when we get home, or go straight to bed?”

“Shower,” Cliff said. He didn’t want to smell like a hospital anymore. “Sorry about all this.”

Elliot shook his head. “It’s okay. I mean... I was really scared. But you’re going to be fine, so...”

“That’s what I mean,” Cliff said, looking at Elliot seriously. “I’m sorry for scaring you. And being a burden and crying and... I guess what I’m really trying to say is thank you for being there.”

Suddenly there were tears running down Elliot’s cheeks and Cliff panicked. “Wait, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry!”

Elliot pulled over on the curb and wiped his eyes. He sniffled and gave a tiny laugh at the same time, which sounded funny to Cliff. “I’m just really glad you’re okay,” Elliot said, taking Cliff’s hand in his own and squeezing it. “And you’re welcome. But you’re not a burden and it’s okay. I love all of you, Cliff. When you’re sick or scared and lonely... I want to be there for you. Do you understand that?”

Cliff didn’t answer right away, not trusting his own voice not to waver right now. But finally he said, “I’m trying to.” It was more honest than the automatic ‘Yes’ he had very nearly said.

Elliot smiled a little sadly and leaned over to give Cliff a kiss on the cheek. “Okay, as long as you’re trying to,” he said. He looked both fond and sad. “Now let’s get you home and in bed. We’ve got a big school year waiting for us next week and you’re not getting out of that bed until Friday.”

“The nurse said a little exercise is good,” Cliff pointed out.

“Some very light exercise,” Elliot said. “Bed to couch and back is plenty. Got it?”

Cliff smiled. He found it amusing when Elliot got bossy. “Sure,” he said. “You’re in charge, El.”

Elliot grinned and started driving again. “You’re damn right I am.”

Fin.

[dis0rderly-cl0wn-nerd]

Crack A Smile and Cut Your Mouth

Ledger!Joker Origin Story

Chapter Two - Feels Better In My Head

Warnings: Child abuse, domestic violence, alcoholism

Chapter Summary: Jack hates school and his father. Life sucks and nowhere feels truly safe. He desperately wants a way out...

Author’s Note: I finally got this done! It took me forever. I kept getting stuck towards the middle part. Also, I felt like the last chapter was way too short so this one is a little longer. Anyway I hope you enjoy! <3

Do you guys want a taglist for this series? I'd be happy to add you.

< Previous - Next >

Jack woke up the next morning to the smell of bacon frying. His mother always got up early to cook breakfast. That was his alarm clock.

He yawned and crawled out of bed to get dressed. He kept on the same black t-shirt and pulled on a pair of khaki green cargo pants. He glanced over at his backpack tossed carelessly on the floor next to his nightstand and groaned. He knew he should probably go to school today. He’d already missed so much this year and his mother would pester him about it if he didn’t.

Jack picked up the backpack and stuffed its contents that fell out back in. He grabbed his sketchbook and his Polaroid camera from his dresser and packed them as well. There was no telling when inspiration would strike. He zipped the bag shut and slung it over his shoulder.

Cautiously, Jack walked from his room into the kitchen just in case Scott was still home. Jacqueline noticed him out of the corner of her eye. 

“It’s okay. He’s at work.”

Jack relaxed and sat down at the table. It was a sad fact that he felt the most at ease when his father wasn’t home. Jacqueline finished off the bacon and brought it over. Jack snagged a few pieces as she turned to the refrigerator to get something to drink. She returned to the table with a carton of orange juice and sat down next to her son.

“Please go to school today, Jack.” Jacqueline said as she poured him some orange juice.

“I will. But I have to leave early because Mike needs me in the shop today.” Jack told her as he gulped down the juice. 

Jacqueline sighed and swept her frizzy blonde curls out of her face. “Okay. At least you’re getting some education today. I just wish you would apply yourself more.”

“I don’t need school, mama. It’s dumb. I’m never gonna use any of it in the real world.”

“It never hurt anybody to be educated,” she kissed his forehead, “Now get going or you’re gonna be late. I love you.”

“Love you too.” Jack replied through a mouthful of bacon as he grabbed his stuff and went out the door.

He climbed into his black pickup truck parked under the carport and started off to school. He mentally prepared himself as he drove. It had been three days since he last went. He was really enjoying the small break but his mom wanted him to go and he didn’t want to disappoint her.

Jack made it to the school and walked in, keeping his head down and avoiding people. He didn’t have any friends. There were a few acquaintances sure, but no one he really hung around or talked to regularly. He was a loner. On days he did attend the whole day, he spent the lunch period by himself and his breaks drawing in his sketchbook.

As depressing as it seemed, it didn’t bother him. He liked being alone.

Jack entered his homeroom and sat down at his desk in the back. He took out a pencil and the notebook he needed and sat them in front of him. This was his first period class, boring as usual. He had no interest in algebra. Too many formulas and confusing rules. So he did what he normally did and doodled in his math notebook instead of taking notes.

His next class, chemistry, was just as hard for him but slightly piqued his interest. Learning about different chemicals and how things worked fascinated him. Especially when they got to talk about radiation and explosions. But today was just bookwork and Jack was bored out of his mind. 

Two more hours and I can get out of here…

The last class before lunch was English. Jack hated this subject. It was the most boring out of all his classes, his teacher was awful, and he wasn’t good at reading. 

To pass the time, he actually did his work but it was half-assed. He really could care less about schoolwork. Some things he genuinely didn’t understand but he still could’ve put in a little more effort. 

Finally, the lunch bell rang and Jack didn’t hesitate darting from the classroom to the parking lot. He made it back to his truck and left the school grounds in the dust, eager to get to work.

He loved his job. Mike was an awesome guy to work for. It didn’t pay much but it was a good first job. Jack helped out in Mike’s repair shop by sweeping, moving equipment, handing him parts, etc.

Jack arrived at the shop and parked out front. He walked around back to the garage where Mike usually was. Mike was a middle aged guy in his late 40s. He was bald, stout, and a little on the shorter side with a graying, bushy brown beard. He had become somewhat of a mentor to Jack over the years. 

Today Mike was underneath a small red car fixing something. He noticed Jack and slid out, chuckling. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” 

“I was but Mom said I could leave early for work.” 

“Now why do I feel like that’s a half truth? Eh, it doesn't matter to me. It’s not my education you're screwing with.”

“Pfft. I don’t care about school. It’s so dumb. I probably learn more here than I do there.” 

Mike shrugged. “I got some stuff for you to do. There’s a few boxes out front with the new tools in them. Move them back here and put them where they go. Then I need you to sweep around the garage. It’s getting filthy.”

Jack nodded and got right to work. He went back to the front and found the boxes sitting at the door. They were unopened and quite heavy but nothing Jack couldn’t lift. He brought them back to the garage and set them down next to the metal cabinets. After opening them, he put all the tools where they belonged and threw away the boxes. Then he grabbed a broom and started sweeping. Dust, dirt, debris, trash, leaves, etc. littered the concrete floors. 

Man, I can’t even remember the last time I swept. This is disgusting. Jack thought as he tossed the dustpan on the floor and swept the pile of filth he created into the pan. 

Mike’s radio played in the background and Jack nodded quietly along with the music. For over an hour he swept and swept until the floor was finally clean. He dumped the last pile into the trash and propped the broom against the wall, admiring his work. He knew having the shop clean and organized would help out Mike a lot.

Mike looked up from his work and laughed. “Done already? Well, I guess I could teach you how to put in a new transmission. Come here and I’ll show you.”

After an interesting lesson from Mike and a few more hours of odd jobs around the shop, it was time for Jack to go home. He glanced at his watch as he walked back to his truck. He was about to open the door when a glimmer of light caught his eye. 

A brown glass bottle was laying in the ditch near the road. He paused for a moment, lost in thought. Suddenly a childhood memory hit him at full speed and there was no stopping it.

Crash! 

Glass was sent everywhere as Jack tumbled to the floor. He clutched the back of his head, blood pooling into his hands. He burst into tears as any eight year old would in this terrifying situation. His mother, hearing the commotion, came running into the kitchen. She ignored her seething husband for once and knelt next to her son, peeling away his hands and accessing the wound. 

Jaqueline whipped around to face the man responsible, unusually fearless. “Did you do this to him?!” 

“Pshhh. So what if I did? The little brat deserved it.” The drunk slurred. 

“He needs a hospital, Scott!” 

“You ain’t taking him nowhere! He’ll live.” Scott bellowed.

Jacqueline huffed, picked up Jack, and whisked him away to the bathroom where she could treat the wound to the best of her ability. She took a washcloth and ran it under some warm water. Then she fanned out his curls surrounding the gash and cleaned it up with the washcloth. She wiped his bloody hands clean and picked what glass she could out of his hair and the wound. Jack whimpered in pain.

“Shhh. It’s okay, sunshine. It’s okay. Mama’s got this taken care of.” Jacqueline reassured him gently.

Once she got the wound clean, she bandaged it and carried Jack to his room. She put him to bed and kissed him goodnight. Jack’s memory of that night faded from there.  

Jack blinked and brought himself back. He sighed and got in the driver’s seat. Before he went home, he wanted to ride around for a bit. He went straight through town and then took a few backroads. He ended up on the main road again out in the countryside. Nothing was out there except the forest and occasional billboards. His hometown truly was in the middle of nowhere.

A nice photo opportunity came up so Jack pulled over in a field nearby. There was a beautiful view of the sunset with the trees underneath. He fished his Polaroid out his backpack and hopped out of the truck. He lowered the tailgate and sat down, positioning his camera into the perfect place. When he got the shot he wanted, he set the camera down and laid back, gazing at the sky. 

He wished he could stay here forever lost in his head instead of going home. He dreaded school and he dreaded his house. The only true safe place was going out alone. The streets were once again his safe haven. 

Jack finally got a hold of himself and realized how much had passed. As much as he hated to, he really needed to get home. He put the tailgate up and climbed back in. The drive back home was the same as every other day yet he cringed at each familiar landmark he passed and every curve he rounded. Today he was feeling particularly uneasy about going home.

He turned down his street and pulled into his driveway, parking under the carport. His father wasn’t home yet. 

Thank God. 

As he walked up to the front porch, Jack noticed a pair of glowing yellow eyes underneath the deck. He smiled, knowing exactly who they belonged to. 

“Luna, come on out girl. It’s okay.” He coaxed the creature. 

A gray cat shimmied out from under the porch and stretched. She meowed and rubbed up against Jack's legs, purring contently. 

The neighborhood Jack lived in had a lot of stray cats. He loved animals and they loved him. He enjoyed all the cats he came across but he had a special bond with Luna. She wasn’t technically his cat since she moved throughout the neighborhood but she always found her way back to his house at some point.

Jack reached into his backpack and produced a plastic bag filled with cat treats. He always kept some on him in case he ran into a stray. He grabbed two treats out and sat them down in front of Luna. She nibbled at them gratefully and meowed her thanks. 

Jack pet her a few more times before walking up the stairs and entering the house. Jacqueline was in the kitchen washing dishes. Jack could smell dinner cooking. His mother turned around and her face lit up when she saw him. 

“Hi sweetie! How was your day?”

“Eh, it was alright. School was pretty boring.” 

“Ha. I figured you’d say that. Here, wash up and help me with the dishes.”

…

After Jack helped with washing the dishes and set up the table, the food was ready. Jacqueline took it out of the oven and placed it on the table. As soon as they sat down, Scott came stumbling through the door. The atmosphere in the house suddenly became tense and Jack could feel the temperature drop a few degrees.

“H-hi honey. Dinner’s ready.” Jacqueline said meekly.

Scott smirked. “Heh, you did something right for a change.” 

He sat down across from his wife and fixed his plate. Once again Jack was stuck in the middle. He felt his blood boil at his father's haughty attitude. His mom worked so hard for her no good husband only to be treated like dirt. 

“How was your day, son?” 

“Fine.” Jack replied shortly. He was repulsed by that horrible man calling him son.

Scott nodded half heartedly and turned to Jacqueline. “I’m glad we didn’t have a repeat of last night, dear.”

Jacqueline just looked down timidly. How could he be so cruel? Jack couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer.

“Last night would never have happened if you came home on time instead of going out drinking.” 

Jacqueline's eyes widened in fear. She glanced at Jack, silently pleading with him to be quiet. It was too late. Scott stood up, knocking his chair over, and loomed over Jack. 

“What was that, boy?”

Jack just stared back at him unafraid. Scott slapped him hard across the face and sent him to the floor. It all happened so fast, Jack could barely think. Before he knew it, Scott was kicking him in the side until his surge of rage subsided. Jack gasped as the wind was knocked out of him.

Finally Scott stopped and glared down at him angrily. “Don’t you ever question what I do with my time again! It’s none of your business.” 

With that he sat down again and went back to eating, completely ignoring his beaten son lying on the floor. All Jack could do was lay there and cry silently. He couldn’t wait until he could finally get away from this hellhole. It would come at a cost but to him it was worth it.

[yourmomsawh0r3]

crossroads chapter 6

javier pena x fem single mom reader

Javier woke in the middle of the night to the sound of Y/N crying out in her sleep again. She was gasping for air, her body rigid with fear. He immediately shook her awake, more urgently this time.

“Y/N, wake up! It’s just a dream, baby,” he said, his voice urgent yet gentle.

She woke with a start, gasping and clutching at her throat, tears streaming down her face. Javier pulled her into his lap, cradling her head against his chest.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you,” he whispered, gently rocking her back and forth.

Y/N sobbed into his chest. “I was reliving what he did to me. He choked me so hard I couldn’t breathe, and he wouldn’t let go,” she said between sobs.

Javier’s heart ached for her. He stroked her hair, kissed her forehead, and whispered soothing words. “You’re safe now, my love. I would never let anything like that happen to you. I promise.”

He gently cupped her face, making her look at him. “You are so strong, mi mariposa. You are an amazing mother, a wonderful friend, and a dedicated nurse. You are the air I need to breathe. I don’t know how I made it this far in life without you. You and Elle have changed me in ways I didn’t know were possible. I’m sorry it took me so long to say this, but I love you. Will you be my girlfriend?”

Y/N looked at him, tears in her eyes. “Yes, Javi. I love you more than you could ever imagine,” she whispered.

She kissed him deeply, pouring all her love and gratitude into the kiss. Javier kissed her back with equal fervor, his hands roaming her body, offering comfort and desire. He undressed her slowly, reverently, kissing every inch of her skin.

He kissed his way down her body, his lips and tongue worshiping her. He parted her legs, his tongue flicking against her clit, drawing a gasp from her lips. “You taste so good,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Y/N moaned, her hands gripping his hair as he brought her to the edge. Her body trembled, and she cried out his name as she climaxed. Javier kissed his way back up her body, capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

He positioned himself at her entrance, looking into her eyes. “You take me so well, you’re so tight” he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

He entered her slowly, filling her completely. They moved together in a rhythm that felt natural and right, their bodies perfectly in sync. Javier’s hands roamed her body, caressing her skin and bringing her pleasure. Y/N wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper inside her.

They reached their peak together, their cries of pleasure filling the room. Javier held her close, their bodies still intertwined, their breaths mingling.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing her softly.

“I love you too,” Y/N replied, a smile on her lips.

They fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms, knowing that they had found something truly special in each other.

The next few days brought a wave of discomfort for Y/N as her period arrived with a vengeance. The morning began with her dropping off Elle at school, her face pinched with pain. Clad in comfy clothes, she tried to muster a smile for her daughter, who bounced into her classroom with a toothless grin. As soon as she got home, Y/N headed upstairs, her body yearning for the comfort of her bed and the warmth of her heating pad.

Her phone buzzed just as she was about to drift off. It was Javier.

"Hey, baby. I'm getting off work early today," Javier said, his voice warm and comforting.

Y/N's response was subdued. "That's great, Javi."

"Is everything okay?" he asked, picking up on her somber tone.

She sighed. "Yeah, my period came down last night and the cramps are unbearable. I'm laying down in my bed right now, trying to nap."

"I'm sorry you're feeling this way. I hope you feel better soon. I love you," he said, concern evident in his voice.

"I love you more," she replied, before hanging up and closing her eyes.

Hours seemed to pass in a blur as she dozed off, the pain easing slightly with the rest. Unbeknownst to her, Javier decided to cheer her up. He went to the store and picked up her favorite treats: a Snickers bar and Rocky Road ice cream, along with a bouquet of her favorite flowers.

Letting himself into her house with his key, Javier set the flowers in a vase on the counter before heading upstairs. He carefully creaked open her bedroom door, took off his shoes, and climbed into bed beside her. He gently played with her hair until she stirred awake.

"Hey handsome, what brings you here?" Y/N asked groggily, blinking up at him.

Javier chuckled and kissed her softly. "I figured we could spend a lazy day in bed. I brought your favorites," he said, holding up the ice cream and chocolate.

Her eyes lit up, and she pulled him into a hug and kiss. "I love you."

He smiled, his eyes full of affection. "I love you more."

Y/N snuggled closer to him, feeling the warmth of his body soothe her aches. "What should we watch? We have about six hours until I need to pick up Elle," she said, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV.

Javier shrugged. "All up to you, baby. I'm down for whatever."

Without hesitation, Y/N suggested "Suits," a show she had been wanting to watch. As the first episode played, they both quickly got hooked, their eyes glued to the screen.

At one point, Y/N glanced down at her nails and cuticles, feeling a bit restless. "I think I want to go get my nails and toes done tomorrow," she mused aloud.

Javier smiled and kissed her temple. "Sounds like a good idea. You deserve some pampering."

As the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, Y/N reluctantly pulled herself away from the cozy bed where she and Javier had spent most of the day. She had to pick up Elle from school, and despite her cramps, she managed to get ready. Javier, sensing her reluctance, offered to help.

"I'll stay here and surprise you both with dinner," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Y/N smiled and kissed him. "You're amazing. I'll be back soon."

She grabbed her keys and headed out, the cool afternoon air providing a brief respite from the pain. At the school, Elle ran into her arms, her face alight with excitement.

"Mommy! I made a new friend today!" she exclaimed, her toothless grin making Y/N's heart swell with pride.

"That's wonderful baby!," Y/N said, hugging her tightly.

They drove home, chatting about Elle's day and her new friend. When they walked through the door, they were greeted by the comforting aroma of chicken noodle soup wafting through the house. Y/N's eyes widened in surprise and gratitude.

"What's that smell?" Elle asked, her nose wrinkling in curiosity.

Javier emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel, a proud smile on his face. "I made dinner. Chicken noodle soup. It might not be the best, but it's edible."

Y/N's eyes filled with tears. "Javi, you didn't have to do this. Thank you so much."

He shrugged, his smile softening. "I wanted to. It's one less thing for you to worry about."

They all gathered around the table, and Javier ladled out bowls of soup. Elle eagerly took a spoonful, her eyes lighting up.

Y/N took a sip and nodded in agreement. "Thank you, my love”

They ate together, the warmth of the soup and the company filling the room with a sense of home and comfort. After dinner, they cleaned up together, Elle giggling as Javier playfully splashed water at her while rinsing dishes.

With no homework to worry about, Elle spent the rest of the evening drawing pictures of her day at school while Y/N and Javier watched her, their hearts full. As bedtime approached, Y/N took Elle upstairs to get her ready for bed.

"Alright, peanut, time to brush your teeth and get into your pajamas," Y/N said, leading Elle to the bathroom.

Elle complied, her excitement from the day slowly giving way to sleepiness. Y/N tucked her into bed, kissing her forehead. "Sweet dreams, baby. I love you."

"I love you too, Mommy," Elle murmured, her eyes fluttering closed.

Just as Y/N was about to leave the room, Elle whined, "I want Mr. Javi to read me a story before bed."

Javier chuckled and willingly accepted. "Alright, sweetheart. How about 'The Little Engine That Could'?"

Elle's eyes lit up, and she nodded enthusiastically. Javier sat beside her bed and began to read, his voice calm and soothing. Y/N stood in the doorway, watching as Elle's eyelids grew heavier with each passing page.

As Javier finished the story, he and Y/N tucked Elle in, kissing her goodnight. "Sweet dreams, princess," Javier whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.

They quietly left the room and headed downstairs. Y/N popped some popcorn and told Javi to put on "Suits." They ended up eating two bowls of popcorn and ice cream, binge watching the entire season of the show. The hours slipped by, and they found themselves lost in the captivating world of Harvey Specter and Mike Ross.

Cuddled together on the couch, Javier looked at Y/N and smiled. "This is perfect."

Y/N nodded, her head resting on his shoulder. "It really is."

They continued watching until the early hours of the morning, their laughter and shared moments creating a night they would always remember.

taglist: @wanniiieeee @sunnytuliptime

[kylejsugarman]

Hiya Syd :) soooo when Jesse starts acting as a parent to Baby does his love for her ever manifest as a new understanding and horrible guilt over what he put his parents through? Does he lay awake at night thinking about how he would feel if he didn’t know if Baby was dead or alive? Does he want to call them so badly even if he doesn’t especially want to talk to them, just to put their minds at ease?

don't ":)" me before putting this in my inbox, u little demon. before i beat u with clubs and sticks, i have to say that the answer to all of these questions is "yes". because at first, jesse is so intensely focused on protecting his new identity and not arousing anyone's suspicion that it's easy some days to like completely displace himself from his roots. he has flashbacks and thinks A Lot about the more recent events of his "old" life, but it's easy for the earlier stuff to trickle out as he cuts ties and almost forget that like. he was a son. fuck, technically he IS a son, but james driscoll basically appeared out of thin air and that's who he is now, right??

but it seeps back in, slowly and painfully—the knowledge that even though he got to start over, his parents didn't. they have to keep living his old life for him. he loses track of baby in a store and even though he finds her just a few minutes later, that desperate, lightheaded panic keeps him up all night not just because it was so deeply and viscerally terrifying but because it wasn't her fault. she hadn't defied him or anything; they just got temporarily separated. but he had done it on purpose. as early as middle school. not coming home, not calling. then he started using and it became harder to come home because of the arguments and the yelling and sure, he didn't feel great then about getting high and leaving home, but he never thought about how it must've felt for his parents. he always just assumed they were glad that he was gone for a while. did his mom feel this way?? this awful panic like his heart was falling down an elevator shaft?? did she see news stories while he was unreachable about gang shootings and car crashes and think he was dead?? do his parents now look at his closed bedroom door and believe—with awful certainty—that he's dead and buried somewhere in the mexican desert??

not knowing then, but knowing now is just so exquisitely painful because in another life, jesse would have been able to come to this realization and talk to his parents about it. sure, it might've been awkward or painful, but it would have been Good and now he can't. he's stuck with this horrible guilt and there's nobody in the entire world he can share it with. he could call them (for all of the memories that've been beaten out of his head, his home phone number is still carved out clearly like the sketches he engraved into his high school chem desktop) and say Something, maybe even pretend to be someone else and give a vague "ur son is okay". but his situation is so precarious. what he has now is so precious, so impossibly rare. he sometimes childishly hopes that his parents just sort of Know that he's safe through some sort of parental intuition, but he understands now from experience that u can never really Know for certain. they'll never Know. and that's the worst part of all. because he got the relief of seeing a lost but unharmed baby at the end of the detergent aisle and rushing over to grab her, but his parents will never get that and he can never give it to them.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Daughter of Olympus (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: It's family time! -Danny Words: 2,295 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter / Next Chapter Listen to: 'Matilda' -by Harry Styles

XXIX: Not the Reunion You Wanted but the Reunion I Needed

Ara's surprised to see her two parents pick her up from camp. The first thing they do is hug her so tightly that she feels like they're about to break her in half. 

"Guys—the windpipes!" She chokes out.

Sally's crying, and Ara doesn't know what to say to make it better. She wishes she could ease the woman's mind, but lately, words of wisdom aren't coming to her in handfuls.

"S'alright," she mumbles, gently rubbing her mother's back.

"Hi, sweetheart," Paul pinches her cheek lightly. "Ready to go home?"

The trip back is quiet. Usually, Percy and her talk, and their parents listen. Today, all she does is stare out the window while her dad tells her about the school she'll attend next year.

It's hard to come to terms with how weary she is. Life is not simple and she's barely halfway through ninth grade. Things change, you fall for people when you least expect it, and then you build an entire life around... What? The idea that nothing will vary but it won't feel the same way twice?

Sally goes directly to their apartment to tidy up the kids' room before Ara gets there, and Paul asks if Ara can check the car before going up. She feels there's more to this than just a regular check-up, but she stays either way.

The girl opens the trunk and takes a look. "What's wrong with it?"

"The breaks are stiff. No cushion."

Ara stares blankly at her dad. "Cushion?"

"When the car stops it screeches," he rephrases.

"Which side?" Paul points to the left. Ara glances at the tire, then shrugs. "Could be the brake pads or the cylinder thingy."

"You can fix it?"

"'Course I can. I'll take a better look tomorrow," she gives him a brief smile. "Is that it?"

Paul steps forward and places a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I know you like helping, but here you are our daughter and nothing else. Understand?" Ara nods. "Good. How've you been?"

"Well... I guess I could be better." 

Ara tries to be strong, but she cries as soon as she locks eyes with her father. Paul is the only person she feels is safe to cry to. Sally needs her to be calm, the camp needs her to be brave. But Paul? He just wants her to be his daughter.

They grew fond of each other fast, Chiron always felt more like a teacher and didn't fulfill the requirements to be a father figure. Ara used to think that she would never know what having a dad felt like, but when Paul entered the picture, everything changed.

They had been a beautiful family for a year and a half, and she'd loved every second. Now that Hera has stolen an important piece of them, Ara is angry and frustrated, and the worst part is that she doesn't feel allowed to be, part of her thinks it's her fault.

"We'll find him," Paul rubs her back. "It's only a matter of time, and time moves fast when you keep yourself busy."

Ara hiccups. "I-I don't want my mom to see me like this..."

"I think she needs to see you like this," he retorts. "She thinks you're bottling up your emotions."

"I just don't want her to think... that I'm not strong," the girl sobs.

"You're fourteen, Ara, you don't have to be strong all the time," he guides her into the building. "Let us worry for you."

Tomorrow will be my fourteenth birthday, and today is the first time I'll be a real player in Capture the Flag. Rest assured that I'm planning to win. There's a problem, though, Percy and all of my friends from the Hephaestus cabin are playing against me.

"Hey, Connor," I approach trying to look tough. "Hope your loyalty isn't compromised..."

"What do you mean, Jackson?"

"Lily plays opposite tonight," I raise my eyebrows.

He looks a little worried, maybe he thinks I'm charmspeaking him. I wouldn't do that, but I do think it's fun that he thinks that. "Don't know what you're talking about."

Travis walks past us. "She's talking about your fat crush on Saggio..." 

Connor laughs nervously, his skin glows silver. "That's crazy!"

"Listen, we all know it. Except for Lily. Maybe."

"Don't worry, Birdy," Travis walks past us again. "I'll keep an eye on him. And you."

I snort. "Good luck."

After dinner, Sally enters Ara's bedroom and sits on her bed. "Would you like a bedtime story?"

Ara fidgets with her blanket. "Do I really have to go back to school?"

The woman sighs and rubs Ara's leg over the blanket. "We should be together."

"What if that puts you in danger?"

"Ara, I love you as much as I love Percy, and as your mother, I want you around no matter what."

"But the camp—"

"You can go on the weekends. But you need to attend school, and you need your parents. Chiron agreed."

"Chiron wants me out of camp because of the stupid prophecy," the girl blushes at her own outburst. "Sorry."

Sally continues in a calm manner. "Well, that's all the more reason. I want to spend as much time with my daughter before her untimely demise."

"That's not funny, Mom," Ara makes a face.

"You know what's funny," the woman gives her a playful look. "I don't think I ever heard you ramble about a boy like you did tonight."

Ara groans, falling back on her pillow. "Mooom..." 

"It was like the time you found that bronze dragon, and all you wanted was to—"

"He's called Festus now," Ara informs her. "It means Happy. Leo named him—he also named my lion Pollo. Leo thinks it's funny. He's weird..."

"You like that he's weird?" Sally smiles knowingly.

"A little," Ara blushes. "Don't tell dad."

"He's just sorry that you're no longer a little girl..."

"Well, if it makes him feel better, I decided not to pursue Leo," she replies.

Sally frowns. "Why?"

"Mom, it would be so much work. I don't have time to—"

"Are you marrying him?" Sally raises a brow.

"What? No, of course not!" Ara exclaims.

The woman chuckles. "Dating is not rocket science, Ara. You should try to have fun with it."

Ara stares at her mother. "Like it's a themed park?"

Sally eyes her with worry. "How long has it been since you did normal teenage things?"

The girl shrugs. "I went to the mall a few days ago..."

"The one where you found the lion?" Her mother asks pointedly.

"Okay, fine. I've never had a 'normal teenage experience'. Bit impossible to achieve being who I am."

"Promise me you'll find ways to have a good time, at least," Sally puts a strand of hair behind Ara's ear. "Don't feel pressure to do anything, all I'm saying is, you're safe in the mortal world. Try to enjoy it."

To be honest, Ara's not sure she remembers how to enjoy life.

She believes she's safe here, though. Even now that things got hard, her parents don't blame her for what's happening. She loves them and she wants to be a good daughter, so she's willing to let go of most of her guilt and try to be happy for them.

Yet... she can't stop feeling uneasy. Nothing has felt right ever since she turned fourteen.

Beckendorf made a special armor for his group that works like a chameleon's skin. Silena and Annabeth asked me and Lily to find them.

"Here!" My friend seizes me by the back of my armor, almost choking me. We're a good team, Lily and I.

Luckily for us, the boys didn't hear me dying, they were too focused on the dangers ahead. 

"Myrmekes," Percy mutters.

"Holy Hephaestus!" I stand up from behind the bushes. 

Both boys jump in alarm, Percy knows right away what I'm thinking. "Don't get any closer!" He and Lily say at the same time, both scowling.

"Look at it!" I exclaim in disbelief.

The thing is the size of a refrigerator, all gold with strange ridges on the sides and a bunch of wires sticking out at the bottom. The ants turn it over: It's an automaton's head. I gasp and try to walk towards it, but Percy pulls me back. 

"Easy, Dr. Frankenstein!"

"A head..." I say in awe. "A dragon's head!"

"It's a sign from Hephaestus," Beckendorf agrees in astonishment. "We have to stop them."

"What? Why?"

Before we can do anything, Silena and Annabeth stop us. Beckendorf sneaks away when they get distracted, and the Myrmekes get him. See, if I had gone after the head, this wouldn't have happened, but no one listens to the little girl.

To save our friend, I pull out the metal detector I built a summer ago (Percy and Lily look at me as if I'd planned this from the start) and turn it on. The thing goes crazy right away, there's a huge trail of mud on the side of the hill, so it's easy. We find the rest of the body in less than ten minutes. 

My friends help me get the dragon's head down, and Annabeth says she's not ready to try this out, so Percy replies something pretty cheesy.

"Get out of the way!" I scoff, squeezing between them. Gods! Falling in love distracts people from what's important. 

Annabeth asks Silena for her dagger and opens the dragon's panel on the back of its head. 

"Well, those who don't know anything about machines, step aside," I kneel next to the automaton's neck, eager to put it together. "Hello, baby! Are you ready to come back to life?"

"Ara..." Lily crouches beside me. "Keep in mind that this thing's unstable, okay?"

"It's a machine," I roll my eyes. "Just needs an adjustment and it'll be good as new..."

"There's only enough time to activate it," Percy reminds me.

"Okay, well, you guys are being super helpful," I reply sarcastically. "Hephaestus wanted Beck to find this. We're safe."

I take off my helmet and study the loose wires. Annabeth leans down next to me and helps me where she can. We work together to reattach the head, and our hands end up greasy and bruised.

"It's done?" Lily asks.

I share a look with Annabeth and nod. "Think so."

Percy asks how to turn it on and Annabeth and I point at the two large rubies. Its eyes have to be turned clockwise. My brother makes a couple of sarcastic comments that I prefer to ignore.

"Everyone take cover," without further ado, I turn its eyes.

I watch as the machine comes back to life. The best thing ever created in camp is in front of me, and I finally understand what Hephaestus means when he says that it's possible to build perfect things.

The earth shakes as the dragon gets up, bathing us in the dirt. As a way of celebration, it shoots a column of flames straight into the sky. "Fire!" I exclaim delightedly.

"Well," Percy stammers. "It worked."

The dragon looks at him and comes to sniff us. I'm beyond happy, but my brother looks terrified. I see him grab his sword and I spring into action. "Hello! Hey, cutie!" The creature watches me closely. "Listen, there's a son of Hephaestus in trouble!" The dragon tenses and waits for instructions. I look at the others smiling. "See? He'll help."

"How do you know that?" Silena asks unconvinced.

"I don't!"

"Perfect," Lily groans. "We're letting the crazy one lead the mission. Beckendorf is so lucky..."

We guide the dragon to the ant nest, but I refuse to leave it alone. 

"Ara, stop being so frustrating!" Percy snaps at me.

"I don't want it to get damaged!" I complain.

"I'll stay with her!" Lily offers. "If things get hard I'll drag her ass away from the forest—Go!"

Maybe it's because she's Annabeth's sister, but Percy feels comfortable leaving me in Lily's care, except maybe when it comes to training. Though he can't deny that all the muscle and height I've gained it's thanks to her and Michael.

"Our parents will kill me if you die, so don't!" Percy warns me. 

"Mike's going to kill us..." Lily says grumpily.

We spend the next twenty minutes decapitating Myrmekes (my sword is really good at it) and helping the dragon up the hill. It's a miracle we don't get splashed with their acid.

"You had to obsess over the wild dragon!" My friend yells from behind me. "I'll need a nap after this..."

"You can sleep during my birthday if you like!" If we survive.

After the dragon tears down the roof of the nest and drags our friends out, what I was fearing starts to happen: the dragon melts with the acid the creatures are throwing at it. 

Beckendorf yells at us to get away from it, I do it only because I trust he'll save it. When we're out of reach, he yells a command and lightning shoots out of the automaton, electrocuting the ants around it.

Beckendorf tells me it was a bad idea to activate it and insists that it's too unstable. I'm forced to accept that maybe he's right once the dragon charges at us. I follow Beckendorf to the top of a small cliff and watch the automaton, its behavior feels strange. 

What if it's following us because he's waiting for instruction? Suddenly, to me it looks like a puppy following its owner, excited to play. "Beck..." I start, but he doesn't want to listen.

"Now!" Exclaims my friend, and he pushes me so we land together on the dragon's back.

"Wait!" I urge him. "It doesn't want to hurt us!"

"He tried to toast your brother's face!"

"He's energetic!" I insist. "Can't you feel it?"

Beckendorf seems to understand what I'm talking about, but he still rejects my idea. "It's too unstable, Ara."

"But—"

"We'll come back for him," he promises. "For now, it's better to deactivate it."

I really don't want to, but I trust Beckendorf, he would never lie to me, so I give in. "Ugh!" I yank open the panel. "You do it!"

Beckendorf rips out the cables from inside the dragon's head and I try not to feel guilty as the dragon's eyes turn off and it freezes up in place.

I tell myself it'll be okay. Beck promised we'll come back soon.

Next Chapter ->

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @ash-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles

[writingsteph]

OSI Snippet Sneak Peek

Okay, this last scene of the "short snippet" (lol) has truly gotten away from me. I'm just writing away, letting my brain do it's thing. Here's a sneak peek (not fully edited):

Sam opted to stay in her dad’s office, avoiding her peers in the gym, and distracted herself with her phone while Lucas coached the boys Varsity team. She texted Jack and Tamara and they even planned their next hangout for the weekend. The solidified plans eased some of the fomo she had being away from her best friends. It was during their texting session that Sam received her second message of the day from Brooke.

“Millie dropped Barry and your blanket off at Lucas’ house. They should be in your room. Love you peanut. Hope today went well.”

Jesus Christ Brooke. You sent MILLIE?! But then Sam shuffled in her spot on her dad’s chair at the realization that Millie was already well aware of her comfort items and Brooke knew it too. 

There had been a few times that Millie walked into Brooke’s house only to notice Sam clutching them both while watching tv. Or the one time that Millie had been on a Skype call with Brooke who was sat in her kitchen, and the girl who had just woken up from a nap walked through in the background, her bear hanging in one hand. Millie swore the girl’s thumb was also set in her mouth. To Millie, the more often than not sarcastic and sassy Samantha was such a precious sight when she decided to let down her defenses. The observant assistant realized that Brooke had created a safe space in her home for the troubled child to do just that. For Sam to be the kid she never had the opportunity to be.

That’s why Brooke asked her. Millie already knows you’re such a baby. Sam’s intrusive thought was disrupted by another kind voice who had assured her in the past. Mama’s. 

There's no age limit on what brings us comfort, baby. If your blanket and bear help you feel safe and secure, then that's all that matters. 

Brooke knew you would want them. Even now, she is still being nice to you. 

Remorse sat heavy in her stomach. But another more sick feeling sat heavier. Disgust. With herself. She didn’t deserve her parents. The girl sent her mother a quick text after that, eyes watery, though she couldn’t bring herself to express much, aside from simple gratitude. You don’t deserve their kindness.

Okay. Thank you.

“Champ, have you called your mom yet?” Lucas asked, buckling his seat belt, looking at the pensive child in front of him. Her spirits had lowered. It amazed Lucas how attune a person could be to another. How attune he could be to a child he'd known for so little time. She's yours.

Sam looked away, grabbing at the hem of her shirt. 

“Samantha.” Lucas leveled her with a look, knowing her daughter's nervous tells well,“I thought I told you to call her.”

“I texted her.” Sam grumbled her whine, so much was racing through her head she wasn’t sure what to focus on or do. 

Lucas turned the key in the ignition before turning back around to her tired looking little girl. She needs a nap. She’ll probably go straight to her room and sleep until dinner.  “That’s not the same and you know it. I’ll have you call her later tonight”

“Lucas, what?” Sam exclaimed. She wasn’t ready yet. She was feeling too much to try to confront Brooke about anything. “Come on!” 

“None of that Sam." He hated being firm about this now, but Sam had been choosing avoidance lately and he felt it was time to put his foot down, "You two need to talk.”

Sam huffed and leaned her head against the window while her dad pulled out of the school. You need their comfort. You need Brooke. You motherfucking child! You don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve it! Another thought interrupted, in the form of Haley’s voice. They love you unconditionally.

Thoughts?

[roseofdarknessblog]

Regulus (Hange Zoe x Reader)

Word count: 2 935

Disclaimer: english is not my first language, I apologize in advance for any mistakes

Info: she/her pronouns for Hange’s character

Summary: Getting lost while stargazing could be pretty easy. Mainly, when you search the night sky beside a special someone. Falling for the Titan-obsessed Section Commander wasn’t even a little bit hard. The trickiest part was gathering the courage to finally tell her. And maybe, just maybe hearing the response you were hoping for.

Regulus

Some nights it was really hard to sleep. Almost impossible. And today was one of those nights. You spent some time with the patroling Scouts, had some tea with them, and had a good chat, but then you eventually wandered away from them. There was a specific person you were looking for.

You found Hange sitting near the camp, her back leaning against a big solid rock. She was alone, just as you hoped. You were itching to have some alone time with the Section Commander the entire day. Both of you had a tremendous amount of work the last couple of days and barely saw each other.

At first, it was okay, you were even glad because talking to Hange was absolute mayhem the last few weeks. You were terrible at hiding your crush on the Titan-obsessed scientist.

��Would you like some company for whatever you’re doing here?“ you asked with an innocent smile, stopping just a few steps away. Hange would never send you away, you were sure of that.

„To be honest, I was expecting you much sooner,“ she said, surprising you with those words. Even more, when she didn’t even look at you. Her beautiful brown eyes were carefully fixed on the little notebook in her hands.

„Why’s that?“

„You seemed too anxious to actually lay down and sleep.“

„Interesting observation,“ you muttered, sitting down next to Hange. Summer had always been your favorite season. To be more specific, it was the summer nights that held some unique kind of magic you were so fascinated with. „But it’s true. I am too anxious to actually ever try to go to sleep.“

„Wanna talk about it?“

You shook your head, bringing your knees to your chest and resting your chin on them. The moon was brightly shining right above your head, but the stars were still pretty visible. It was nights like this one when you actually felt the worst. When everything seemed so peaceful, while during daylight your life was in danger almost nonstop. Most of the time you wished that the night would never end. Then everything could be much more beautiful and safe.

„And what’s keeping you up?“ you asked after a moment of silence, while you watched Hange scribble some notes in her notebook. She was surely planning a new project or experiment. „Any interesting new ideas?“

„Actually, no. It’s something completely different this time.“

„Oh, really?“ you laughed at the enthusiasm in her voice. Hange was smart in ways you weren’t. And that was okay. You still loved to hear about everything science-related she so loved to talk about. To about anyone, who showed just a slight interest in hearing her out. „And are you...“

„Of course, I’m going to tell you!“ she blurted out without even letting you finish the sentence.

Something about Hange’s voice and the way she was talking and explaining stuff always made you feel at ease. You could close your eyes and relax for hours while enjoying all that she had to say. And she clearly loved such a companion.

„I remembered how my father used to take me out during summer nights to watch the stars. He always knew so much about them.“

„From where?“

„He had a lot of books and taught me how to read them even before I went to school. Mom was very proud, she loved to read as well and always had a book with her wherever she went.“

„We had a couple of really old books at home, it was a heritage from my grandparents. But I’ve never actually read them.“

„What were they about?“ You shrugged, leaning your back against the rock as well. The night was hot, but a fresh breeze was making sure that the air didn’t become too unbearable. „That’s a shame. You should never pass up a chance to read a good and interesting book. Or even just skim through it.“

„Well, maybe I should take your advice.“

„Definitely,“ she laughed, handing you her notebook. It surprised you at first, but you carefully reached for it, brushing the tips of your fingers against Hange’s warm skin. It was such an innocent little move, but it made a shiver run down your back. As if nothing happened, she continued talking. „Anyways, he loved to tell me all about different constellations, their meanings all stories bound with them.“

„Do you remember any of them?“

„All of them,“ she said proudly, clasping her hands behind her head. „But I’ve never told them to anyone.“

Hange’s handwriting was hard to read sometimes, but her little illustrations on the sides of the pages made up for that. Tiny little stars, some of them connected into different shapes. You loved to stargaze but never knew a whole lot about the stars. Their beauty was enough for you, even without additional pieces of information.

„These constellations...“ you said, pointing to her drawings. „Did you draw them from memory or...“

„No, look up,“ she said, pointing to the night sky. Although you could hear the quiet chatter from the nearby camp, where the other Scouts were settled, you only paid attention to Hange. „See those stars over there? It’s called the Ursa Major, otherwise known as the Great Bear.“

You tried to follow her finger, which outlined a similar shape as you saw in her notebook. If you looked hard enough, you could make out a shape that looked like some sort of animal, but it wasn’t even close to a bear.

„Who named it like that? A person who never saw a bear in his life?“

„If you close one eye and tilt your head a bit, it looks like a bear.“ You shook your head, leaning a bit closer to Hange, to have a better look at what she was trying to show you. „See there? The body, legs, tail...“

„I don’t know, it looks like some sort of a drunk deformed bear.“

„Ha! That’s what I said to my dad when I was little. He laughed at me for a while, then admitted that I was right.“

„I’m glad we see the world in the same way,“ you said without thinking, leaning even closer to Hange until your arm bumped into hers.

Before you even knew it, Hange slid her arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer, so you were looking in the exact same direction. You could feel your whole body tense up, while the Section Commander kept talking and trying to convince you, that it truly looked like a bear.

But concentrating on her words was more and more difficult with every passing second. Mainly because of her arm still around your shoulders. It was a pleasant feeling which made you feel calm and safe, but at the same time, your whole body filled with thousand other different emotions.

Being close to Hange was driving you crazy more and more with every interaction the two of you had. At the same time, her closeness and touch were all you craved most days. Mainly when everything got too quiet at night and you suddenly had nothing to do. No place to hide from your worst thoughts.

„Okay, let’s try a different one then. It’s not that visible right now, but if you look really closely...“

„What am I looking at?“ you wanted to know, subconsciously leaning even closer to Hange and resting your head against her shoulder. It took all your courage, but when Hange didn’t seem to pull away, you relaxed a bit. At least on the outside, internally you were screaming and freaking out like an actual teenager you were a long time ago. „Another animal?“

„It’s the Leo constellation,“ Hange explained, tilting her head upwards. But before you could follow her lead, she pulled you down by your shoulders, making you lay down with your head in her lap.

All the air in your lungs got suddenly caught on its way out, making your heart skip a few beats. Startled, you tried to sit up immediately, but when one of Hange’s hands slipped in your hair, her nails slowly sliding over your scalp, you stayed put. Taking a deep steadying breath, you fixed your eyes on the sky again.

„You were born at the beginning of august, right?“ she asked, while already knowing the answer. That’s why she didn’t wait for your response, while her delicate fingers were still innocently playing with your hair. „So you are a leo as well. You should know how to find your own constellations.“

Trying to say something was almost impossible. You were sure that if you opened your mouth, no sound would come out. Or if you tried to speak, your voice would shake for sure.

„Do you see that bright star?“ Hange pointed above her head, waiting for you to say something or at least nod silently. „That one over there.“ Your eyes were searching the night sky for the star she was pointing at.

„That one?“ you asked almost too quietly, lifting your own hand. Hange’s fingers gently wrapped around your wrist, moving your hand a little to the right.

„Yeah, exactly. You know what’s it called?“

„No idea.“ Even if you knew, Hange’s hand still holding your wrist made you forget even your own name.

„That’s the Leo’s heart, the star is called Regulus. Or even Cor Leonis sometimes,“ she explained patiently with a burst of excitement in her voice. You could really tell that she was enjoying lecturing you about this topic. „It’s the twentieth-first brightest star in the night sky.“

„And what is the...“

You forgot what you were saying when Hange let go of your wrist and her hand gently landed on your chest. She looked down at you, smiling a little. Her rich brown eyes reflected the smile on her lips even more visibly. You tried to stay calm, but your heart had a mind of its own, it started to pick up speed until you were certain Hange could feel it too.

The smile on her lips grew even wider.

„And you know what’s the best part about it? Regulus appears as a singular star when in reality it’s a quadruple star system made out of four stars that are organized into two pairs.“

It was surely interesting, all of what she was saying... but all you could concentrate on, was the heat rising to your cheeks, while your heart still refused to calm down.

„Why are you freaking out? Isn’t this why you came here?“

„What?“ you blurted out, furrowing your brown. „I’m not... I’m not freaking out.“

„So you’re completely relaxed now?“ she teased you, stroking your cheek with her other hand. „In that case, you should go see a doctor when we return home. Having such a high-resting heart rate is not healthy.“

You could feel yourself blushing and were sure, that Hange saw it even in the dark. But a genuine smile finally made its way to your lips. She was right. This is why you came here. You wanted to spend time with her and maybe finally break down the walls separating the two of you.

Hange liked you as well, you were sure of it for a couple of weeks now. But it seemed that she was just as shy in approaching you in this matter. You both focused on work, trying to hide your true feelings. And that only led to more sleepless nights in your case. You spent long hours staring into the ceiling, thinking about how different those moments would be if Hange was there beside you.

„I think you know why my heart is pounding like that,“ you finally said, daring to tuck a few strands of hair behind her right ear, carefully fixing her glasses as they slid down her nose a little.

God, she was so beautiful.

In that moment and every other as well.

During everything she was doing, literally anytime.

You were never in love before. Not truly in love. With Hange it all felt so different even now when the two of you weren’t together. But when you looked at her and studied the structure of her face, her joyful eyes, and her bright smile, that painted rays of sunshine all over her face, you could see your whole future. The life you wanted and wished for.

Being a Scout was good... for now. After years of hard training, you were happy at where you ended up. But life had so much more to offer. And you wanted to experience that as well, best with somebody you truly loved.

With Hange.

„What did you mean, when you said that this is why I came here?“ you asked, while your fingers still lingered over the soft warm skin of her cheek.

„You wanted to be alone with me.“

„Yes.“

„Because you wanted to tell me something?“

You shrugged, gently grabbing her chin and bringing her face closer to yours. With her hand still right over your wildly beating heart, you brushed your lips over Hange’s mouth, waiting for her response. It took her less than a second until you felt her return the kiss. A pleasant wave of excitement and warmth washed over your entire body, making you feel something like never before.

Something you weren’t even sure existed. Until now.

„I think this is better than a thousand words,“ you whispered, still just a mere distance away from her lips.

„I really much agree with that,“ she said just as quietly as if she was scared somebody may hear her. „Was it that obvious that I like you? Or did you just shoot your shot and hoped for the best?“

„Maybe something from both of those options,“ you smiled again, longing for her lips once more. For even just one last kiss. „I think I love you. For a few weeks now, actually. And it was driving me crazy, that I wasn’t able to say something. To let you know how I really feel.“

Being friends with Hange was one thing. It was never hard or complicated, her truly friendly nature drew you towards her from day one. And it really was only friendship at the beginning.

The first time you noticed, that you started to feel something more, panic set in. You truly freaked out, because falling for Hange... You never saw it coming, so all of those feelings knocked you off your feet and left you avoiding Hange for a couple of days. You hoped, that being apart for some time would solve this... problem?

No, it wasn’t a problem.

Just something you never knew you were looking for, until you got to know Hange Zoë.

Your whole life was flipped upside down, torn into tiny pieces, and then put together once again, this time truly magically.

„Good, I was looking for ways to tell you something very similar. And now I’m glad that I wasn’t the first to confess,“ Hange said, tasting your lips again for a short while. For just a glimpse of a moment that felt like a whole eternity. „Nonetheless... I love you,“ she whispered into your skin, planting tiny kisses along your jaw, which made you smile again.

You felt relief and happiness like never before. Being a part of the Scouting Regiment meant never knowing when you were going to die. Making friends and getting close to people was necessary, but really hard. Throughout the years, you’ve lost a lot of people closest to you.

Maybe that’s why you were so afraid of falling in love. Losing friends was one thing. But losing somebody you wanted to have a future with...

You weren't sure your heart would be able to take such pain and suffering.

„I want to spend my life with you, Hange. I want to wake up next to you every morning for the rest of my life and fall asleep holding you in my arms every night.“

„I wake up at dawn every morning, so I can go to the lab and get some work done before breakfast.“

You expected something sweet in response, maybe another kiss. But the words that came out of her mouth were just so typical for Hange. Not everybody liked her sense of humor, but it never bothered you. Quite the opposite.

„Okay, I’ll settle for falling asleep with you in my arms. I hate waking up early,“ you mumbled, asking for another kiss with puckered lips.

„I’ll teach you how to do it.“

„You’ll teach me how to wake up early?“ Hange nodded, biting down on her lower lip with a cheeky grin. „Well... I’ll be happy to give your method a try,“ you assured her, still asking for a kiss.

And Hange gave it to you.

And then at least ten more, before she started to talk about the stars again.

She had many stories and suddenly wanted to share all of them with you. Every single one of them, even those about stars and constellations you’ve never heard about. But just until the moment Hange described them to you in a way no one else would be able to do. With such whimsical details and words full of the purest magic. With one of her hands tangled in your hair, the other still resting on your chest, feeling you're once again calmly beating heart.

At that moment, you were safe and loved.

There was no point in worrying about how the next day would turn out.

At that moment, it was only you and Hange.

And that felt just right.

[gruesomejack]

Gabriel smelled like dial soap and laundry detergent. Vi buried his nose in his neck and squeezed him tight.

"You okay?" Looking at the young man in his arms, Gabe played gently with the curls hanging from his neck and frowned. He'd been babysitting for the Scorzas since Victory was five. Now Bianca was dead, and their son was eighteen and drunk enough that he couldn't walk on his own. There was vomit on his suit, and he smelled strongly of liquor-- He felt guilty. There wasn't anything he could do to fix any of it, but at least he could get him home and cleaned up.

"Peachy-keen." Vi managed, not bothering to lift his head. Gabriel was a good man, practically his older brother. If there was anyone he wanted to spend this awful time with, it was him. He'd been taking care of him for years now; the only time they'd been apart was the four years he spent at school. Even then, Gabe managed to send him birthday and Christmas gifts to make sure he knew he was being thought of. "Hey- Hey, slow down. If you walk any faster, I'll puke again." He slurred, drooling on the man's suit. "Actually, put me down-" Gabe responded with a laugh and eased his pace to a slow step before stopping entirely. Lowering the young man to his feet, he watched him totter a little to hunch over and empty the bile in his stomach. Rubbing at his back, Gabe pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it over.

Vi coughed and spit. Taking the hankie, he wiped his mouth and slowly stood back up. He looked like shit. The expensive suit his father had put him in was ruined, his eyes were red and swollen, his nose was snotty, and he was on the verge of passing out. Swaying, he stumbled back, but before he could fall, there were strong arms wrapping back around him. Victory leaned against his friend's chest and closed his eyes.

Gabe really was good. He was good for him too, huh? He was always looking out for him and keeping him safe, and listening to him prattle on about things he had no interest in. And he was kind of cute, right? Those downturned eyes and freckled cheeks were more than charming. Vi always thought it was strange he never seemed to have any girls around him. Maybe he wasn't interested?

Brows knitting, he clung to the fabric of the man's blazer. It was weird to see him dressed up. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

Gabe blinked and glanced down at the face on his shoulder. Smirking a little, he tilted his head. "What's with the sudden interest in my love life?"

"Answer the question."

Letting out a soft, shocked laugh, he shook his head for him. "No, I don't. I'm too busy making sure you're not drinking yourself to death to think about girls."

Vi picked his head up to look at him and searched his inky gaze. He found fondness and amusement behind them and felt his heart give a little flutter. It hadn't been a thought before, but... Eyes falling to his lips, he hesitated and ducked to press his own against them in a soft kiss.

Gabe stiffened immediately, using gentle hands to ease the boy back. "Whoa-... No." He said, "Vi-... No. You're too drunk, and you're not thinking straight." Squeezing at his biceps, he frowned. "You're-... I-I can't give that to you. I don't think I'm allowed- And even if I was, I-I can't. You're family to me." Watching Victory's face pale and green again, he sucked in a breath as he was vomited on. "Okay. Come on, we've got to get you home-"

Vi coughed again and bat his arms away before stumbling back. "Sorry." He mumbled and tried his best to maneuver around him. "Go on without me. I-... I'm going back to my mom."

Reaching out for his arm, Gabe held onto his wrist. "Victory, I don't think that's a good idea-"

"Fuck off! Go away!" Vi shook him off and shot back a hard, but tired look, "Please."

[radfemforwomensrights]

I think this is went a lot of terf-haters don’t realize. Disagreement on truth, even ones that are essential to me, doesn’t mean there has to be hate.

I agree with you in every word. 💕

Story time! (Long post. Colored for ease) You can scan colored and bold text for the gist.

~~~~

My autistic little sister befriended a transgirl in 7th grade. We didn’t care that she was trans, my sister made a friend! We opened the doors to our house and would drive them out for frozen yogurt.

The friend asked my sis to learn about transgenderism online and search for her own place in the lgbtqia+. (This was a couple years pre-covid) Sent her a link to a queer discord group.

My sister did this… and ended up being sexually groomed by predators in that group.

They acclimated her to the point of watching human (female duh)-sacrifice porn. They taught her misogyny and made her uncomfortable with being female. They had her video herself experimenting in the school bathroom so they could tell her if she was trans. They needed more to be sure… then yep! She was trans. Oh, and an age-regressive little.

They groomed her against us (We would hate her!… like we hated her friend???) and convinced her she was abused. She needed to run away so they could protect her and even help her find the trans-supportive daddy-dom caretaker she needed.

This all happened during her library IEP study hall. The librarians loved that she was researching lgbtq and gave her lots of privacy on school computers to do so. (Progressive Oregon) Phone videos + pics were deleted after being sent.

Then summer came, we found out when she left discord up. It was soooo filthy.

When we managed to convince her they were predators she had daily panic attacks. But we hoped she would stop trying to run to them. Instead… she ran to her friend.

Her friend and her brother were raised genderless and both chose to be trans. My sis told me later that both the afab sibling and dad were violently abusive. It was hinted that the afab sibling felt unsafe and hoped she would be respected more as a male. My sister’s friend admitted she was scared of her “brother” (who copied dad’s “masculinity”) and didn’t want to be like that… A boy, violent, like her dad, like males in her life.

When my sister arrived she asked to be hidden there and live with them (groomed to think she was abused, affirmed by tras who didn’t question) they put her on a queer hotline and called CPS.

With my sister missing and bike gone, my mom drove to see if she was on the way to her friend. She found the bike and police at the door.

The rest put short, we were guilty at the start in CPS eyes (trans kid crying abuse from unaccepting parents?). We gave them the police report number for her child-predator case. (The police freaking lost the file! We had a whole ring set up for the perfect sting!) With that and deep searching CPS had nothing they could report (since nothing existed). We hunkered down for Covid then moved states to give my sis a fresh start. (Felt unsafe as preds knew our address)

My sis went on as nonbinary (which her red-state school hid. As if we didn’t know 🙄). Hormones could wait till 18 and being sure.

She told me to use female pronouns for her, it felt loving and safe when from me. The first year she planned to use go fund me to get her boobs chopped and run away to couch surf the queer community. All her friends were queer… before they told her they didn’t want her. That was an eye-opener. She had been love-boomed by the community and preds online and assumed the queer community was a selfless utopia. That awakening allowed her to break from the group think conditioning.

Then, she got an email. Her trans friend from home wrote a suicide note. She had become an alcoholic, hated her life, and had made her choice.

911 HAS NEVER BEEN CALLED SO FAST.

My mom held the phone while I comforted my sister. The police said we saved her life.

Today, my sister no longer identifies as trans. She told me she would have stopped earlier, that she only kept it due to sexist stereotypes. She didn’t want to be perceived by them. She’s researched the hormones and told me the thought of being on them frightens her now. HRT had been the equivalent of an antidepressant with a cosmetic effect in her mind.

The predators and trans-community (online and off) (both schools knew she was sexually groomed but affirmed) who convinced and pushed her to be trans almost got my sister trafficked.

They convinced her she neeeded transition. We were hateful for not talking drastic measures after she was groomed and traumatized.

My sister cried abuse, they jumped- ‘how much?’ “Run!” “They’re evil!” “Use suicide threats!” CPS had to explain that basic chores, boundaries on running away, and disagreement on transgender beliefs doesn’t count as abuse.

Thank goodness this was before the Oregon trans laws kicked in! She would have been taken, have her location hidden from us, be put on hormones, and had her boobs chopped. We’d have no idea if she was alive or had joined the Portland homeless community. She’s so much happier now. Panic attacks are gone. She’s thriving with a new friend at a school tailored to neurodivergence. (Missing school in covid was rough) She’s such a freakin snuggle-bug, especially with mom and I again. 💕 She laughs freely again.

No, I don’t hate trans people. That would have been my sister if it happened just a couple years later. I don’t hate the trans girl that fueled my sister’s desire to transition as she talked to pedos.

I don’t want any trans individual to be killed or die of suicide.

When I look at you I see my sister. Someone hurting for various reasons.

I want you to be safe. I want you to find happiness.

I want doctors to give you the uncensored science so you can give full consent. I want the science to progress so we know the full effects, create safer treatment.

But I see the predators too. The ones that prey on and use the trans community. Self-ID means no anti-predator protections for the community, children, and all females. I see trans and detransitioners alike suffering medical harm. And watch the trans community turn and scorn their own who detransitioned. The love you are given is conditional upon you repeating what they want. Say any wrong thought and face the death threats of being a terf.

A trans life does not become an acceptable casualty when they find the medicine or transition was poison to them. Or say the wrong thing.

We don’t green light undertested medical experimentation to the public, advertising them as completely safe, then shame scientific but undesired statistics and results as falsehoods. That’s not science.

When you care for a group, you don’t gaslight them. “Puberty blockers are completely reversible” not going to mention the depression and suicidality warning given to early puberty girls? “HRT has no negative side effects” “okay, not toooo many.” “Detransition is extremely rare”… as long as you don’t count them all?

I’m for unbiased science. I’m anti-affirm any gender distress or concern . (‘All kids should be taught to question gender.’ ‘But remember, if you question gender, only trans people do that!’)

Sexism teaches girls to hate being girls, then we tell them that it means they are trans or nb? Here’s your experimental hormones? Puberty was never needed for brain development, it’s developmentally irrelevant if you want to skip it. Gender distress and female self-hate is part of why we hated sexism. We were taught to ignore gender stereotypes, not look at them as a measure of belonging.

And for straight cis white boys? You are to blame for racism, sexism, transphobia, homophobia, aaaand colonization and genocide of native americans. You’re privileged and inescapably at fault as part of an oppressive class. Oh, you’ve internalized white manhood as bad? Don’t want to be male anymore? You’re a girl! Here’s your hormones!

Estrogen dominance in men is medically harmful and causes depression and volatile mood swings. But NOT in biological men who feeeel like girls. Biology doesn’t factor into health for them.

Oh and having high testosterone in women causes PCOS-like symptoms, early menopause, and increases anxiety and mood swings? Even when that’s 10x less than male levels? Eehhh not for biological females who feeeel different than other girls.

The extreme denial of science and polarized hate is harmful to all. We need nuance. We need rational two-way conversation. We need to treat people’s health with caution and not blind ideological affirmation. For the sake of trans kids.

You want trans kids treated well and accepted, that doesn’t make lying to them and the public ethical. How many of these kids don’t understand what they are getting into? Why would you silence the coal mine canaries instead of using them to inform risk? Why wouldn’t you look into rational safeguarding and transparent unbiased research?

I’m tired and my heart hurts.

Standing up for your rights and safety is not disrespectful.

If a person identifies as trans, that honestly has nothing to do with me. I don’t think it’s truly possible, I think the ideology does more harm than good, and I think there are better ways to cope with gender dysphoria; however, it’s a free country and no matter how much I dislike it sometimes, people can and should be able to express themselves however they want.

I won’t tell a trans person how to live their life. I won’t argue with them about their own feelings and identity no matter how strongly I feel. That would be disrespectful.

Standing up for my rights and integrity as a woman ISN’T disrespectful, though.

To better articulate what I’m trying to say, I will list some examples:

Not letting a trans kid sit at the same lunch table as you and your friends just because they’re trans is mean. Asking a trans person to change in the locker room that corresponds to their biological sex is not mean. That is standing up for your right to a single-sex space.

Denying a transgender person service at an establishment because they are trans is wrong. That’s discrimination. Not permitting a transgender athlete to compete in the sports league/team that doesn’t correlate with their biological sex is not discrimination, though. That is simply reinforcing fairness, safety, and the integrity of said sports league/team.

A homeless shelter denying help to a transgender person because they’re transgender is cruel. A single sex shelter denying access to someone of the opposite sex and directing them towards a place that can help them isn’t cruel. That’s just protecting the inhabitants of said single sex shelter.

Bullying and harassing a transgender person is always condemnable. Expressing how you feel about a situation that affects you and makes you uncomfortable and saying things that are scientifically accurate is justified.

As humans, we all need to treat each other with kindness, but that does not mean that we need to let people walk over us and invalidate our rights and feelings.

[qippabtch]

The Roof is on Fire: Part 1 (Backstory)

Content warning: dead pet, house fire

"The roof. The roof. The roof is on fire."

These were the lyrics from the song he showed me upon dubbing me "Fire King." A crudely-photoshopped image of my face superimposed onto the profile of Fire Lord Ozai became my contact photo in his phone. The nickname came after my best friend Andy and I spent a weekend up in a rural woodland cabin. After assuring me he'd be able to start the woodstove fire-- after all, hadn't our families first bonded over a shared Boy Scouts troop?-- it started to seem as though we were fated to spend the weekend shivering. "Let me try," I said.

Begrudgingly, he offered me the lighter and wad of newspaper kindling, scooting aside to give me access to the stove. It took me a while, and for a few minutes there, his smug look told me that he'd doubted my ability to do what he couldn't from the beginning. But then, I figured it out. The trick was to keep at it, starting small with sticks and brush, before easing the heavier logs into the flame and allowing them to take gradually to the flame. "Hail, the Fire King!" Andy cried, feigning a royal bow. 

The fire seemed to catch so slowly, I couldn't imagine how things like house fires got to be so out of control. After all, if I couldn't WILL the logs to catch, what did a modern house made to resist conflagration have to worry about?

I wouldn't find out for another few months.

It was a Thursday in early May. I had been hired at the Deaf school two weeks ago, and I was just starting to settle into the job. It wasn't what I wanted to be doing, but it was a job, and since I was living rent-free with my parents, I could put all of my money towards those pesky student loans. One of the perks of living at home was my dad's willingness to occasionally trade cars with me, bringing mine to the mechanic for me so I didn't get ripped off. 

That's why I didn't answer the first time my little brother called me. Or the second. I figured, he's mad because I have Dad's car. I knew he wanted to buy it off of our father, and he probably had scheduled some preemptive appointment to tint the windows or have some other modification done. But by the fifth or sixth consecutive call, I figured I'd have to address him eventually. When my coworker came  back into the room, I asked if she could handle the class for a minute. 

"My brother is spam calling," I told her. In sign language, this looked like "MY BROTHER / CALL / CALL / CALL / (eyeroll)". As I slipped out I told her: "I've just gotta make sure it's not an emergency."

In the nearly deserted hallway, I didn't worry too much about letting some irritation creep into my tone when I answered. "This better be goddamn important," I told him. "I'm at work."

"It is," he responded, just as rudely. "The house is on fire, and your cat is probably dead."

My first impulse was to laugh. "Very funny," I told him. "What's really going on?"

I felt the buzz of my phone and saw that he was trying to FaceTime me. That's when it hit me that he wasn't kidding. With trembling fingers, I accepted the request, and the first thing I saw was the blurry feed of our house, and a big red firetruck in front. 

Dazed, I sank to the ground in the middle of the school hallway. I opened my mouth but nothing came out at first, so I tried again. This time, my scratchy, dry voice made out, "Is... is everyone out?"

"The family is safe," he assured me. "Mom was at work, Dad's here with me." (And of course, the other brother was out of state for college.) "It's only Tilly they can't find."

Tilly.

I took a shaky breath and cleared my face. It was imperative that my students never see me as anything but happy or neutral.

 "Everything okay?" my coworker asked as I reentered the classroom, face a blank slate.

I shook my head imperceptivity. 

She gave me an inquisitive look. I glanced at the students, none of whom were looking my direction. Still, I shielded my hand with the other as I signed two words: HOUSE, and FIRE. Her eyes widened, and she shooed me away, silently telling me to take care of myself and leave the classroom to her. 

I nodded once and left the room. I was going to cry; that much I could feel in my gut. I sought out the office once dubbed our team's "designated cry room." But when I slipped around the corner, I was brought up short by the sight of a closed door. This meant Jen was either interviewing a new applicant, or meeting with a prospective family. Next door to her, however, the program director for the hearing program also housed at the school seemed to have an empty office.

“Hi,” I said, poking my head through the open door. “Are you busy?”

She looked up, surprised. “Not really,” she admitted, her brows furrowing.

“No meetings scheduled--” I checked my watch, "--in the last two hours or so of the school day?”

“No…” I could tell she was wondering why someone from the other program was looking to speak to her, but before she had the chance to ask, I closed the door behind me. 

“Great,” I said, collapsing into her chair. “I need a place to cry.” 

Out from under the prying eyes of students and curious TAs, I could’ve let the floodgates open, but some latent instinct allowed me to first dial the first emergency contact on my phone. 

Andy picked up before the first ring ended. “I heard,” he said. 

A silent gratitude welled up inside of me, in spite of everything. I melted like hot wax, and the tears came silently as I curled up on this strange woman’s office chair. 

“Tilly,” I whimpered. 

“I know,” he said. “We’re going to find her. Do you need me to come get you?” 

I shook my head, which of course he couldn’t hear. The voice I was able to manage was hardly more than a croak. “No.” 

Not-Jen looked at me, bewildered. She asked me the question, what is going on? without words. Her eyes searched my face, and I imagined she was wondering if either program had ever had to section a new hire so quickly. Mental breakdowns were common enough in a place like this, but only a few ended in institutionalization. I pictured, hysterically, this woman slowly reaching under her desk for a secret button, like a bank teller in a robbery, alerting squads of uniformed people armed not with police-issue .45s but straightjackets and tranq darts. The idea was so comically ridiculous that I found myself laughing through the tears, surely only reinforcing her notions regarding my sanity. 

I told her simply, “My house is on fire.” 

This broke her frozen expression, and her face melted into one of sympathy and concern. “Is everyone okay?”

Lifting the phone again, I said to both her and Andy, “My family is all accounted for. The only one missing is my cat, Tilly.” 

She made a sound like a squeaky toy being stepped on, and stepped around her desk to sit in the chair beside mine. Her hand was steady on my shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured. 

The sob was loud and choked, and I stifled the next one, concerned the occupants of the adjacent office might overhear. Not-Jen introduced herself as Cheryl, and I let her put her skinny arms around my shoulders as I continued to weep. Andy spoke soothingly from somewhere far away, giving me updates as he got them through the steady, reliable grapevine that interlaced our families. My family was in the care of the Red Cross. The fire department had gone to a second alarm.

Cheryl tried to console me, too, telling me, “I’m sure she’ll be fine. Cats are incredible hiders."

But they didn't find Tilly until the fire had been extinguished.Tilly, my cat, the first pet that was ever only mine.

It was my mom called me next. I was in my dad's car, sitting in the back parking lot, trying to decide where to go. Home? What would even be left of it? They wouldn't have put my parents up in a hotel yet. It was too soon. I was just settling on calling Andy when my phone rang.

"Mom?"

I could hear her tears when she spoke in a broken, tiny voice: "They found Tilly."

My heart sank into my stomach. "And-- I mean, is she--"

"I'm so sorry, honey."

I don't remember what I said. Maybe I didn't say anything, and just hung up. The next thing I remember is crying harder than I can remember crying in my adult life. The catharsis was immediate and relieving, and I knew as the weeping spell wound down that I would call Andy.

When I arrived at his place, Andy's mom greeted me with a hug that seemed to last eternity. Whitney is a short, plump woman from whom Andy had inherited his ocean-blue eyes, and in her arms I felt small in spite of the six inches of height I have on her. Like a little kid whose auntie took on the roll of secondary mother without needing to be asked. She didn't make me talk, and I found it comforting to remain in my silence, a state uncommon to one as loquacious as I am. I curled up in a ball on the corner of their brown leather couch, sinking endlessly into the deep cushions as though it could swallow me whole.

I stayed there, practically comatose, until Whitney insisted I let her buy me some essentials. She handed Andy her credit card and told him not to think twice about the expense, and soon enough we were on the way to Walmart.

I picked out a toothbrush, some travel hygiene essentials, some sweats to sleep in tonight and a set of fresh work-appropriate clothes for the next day. I didn't bother to style the outfit to match my usual pseudo-gothic preferences, but simply tossed some clothes that seemed close to my size into the cart. Andy added some snacks and a gluten-free frozen dinner for that night, and a bandana. Black, with red roses, matching my aesthetic perfectly. I hadn't even thought about my bandana collection, but Andy, my best friend since the first grade, knew me better than anyone. To this day I have that bandana, the first in my new collection.

On the way home, I fiddled with the music. Usually, Andy and I would bicker about what to play in the car, but I guess having your house burn down wins you some privileges because he let me have full control of the aux.

The roof. The roof. The roof is on fire.

"Wow," Andy remarked. "Your Spotify algorithm is really insensitive, huh?"

"No," I said. "I picked it. I made a playlist."

His brow furrowed, and he leaned over to look, but I smacked him away and snipped something about watching the road. "The last thing my family needs is for all of us to survive a housefire only to have one of us die in a car crash," I remarked.

His eyes bugged for a second, and then we were both laughing. At the next red light, I showed him the playlist, comprised solely of fire-related songs. "If you read the titles in order, they kind of tell a story," I said. "See? Lithium and Battery, because it was a lithium-ion battery that started it. Lady Gaga's 911, because the first thing you do is call 9-1-1, and Get Low because they tell you--"

"I get it," Andy said, chuckling darkly. "This is so morbid."

"I think it's funny."

He looked at me for a moment before informing me, "Your sense of humor is broken."

I thought about that for a long time, and then suddenly I was laughing. I couldn't stop laughing. I tried to answer his demanding gaze, but I got as far as "What do you call--" before I burst out again. Andy laughed with me, puzzled, but content that I didn't seem so miserable anymore. Finally, after several false starts that dissolved into hopeless giggles, I got the set up of the joke out.

"What do you call an elusive psychic who survives a house fire?"

Andy, already groaning, generously humored me. "What?"

"A rare medium well-done," I choked out, and then we were both howling. It's probably sheer luck that we didn't crash on the way home, because the rest of the drive was spent in hysterics, the two of us taking turns volleying all of the fire-related jokes...

"Did you hear about the fire in the shoe factory? Many soles were lost."

"My grandfather always said, “Fight fire with fire.” He was a great man, but a terrible firefighter."

"Why do ducks have flat feet? To stomp out forest fires. Why do elephants have flat feet? To stomp out flaming ducks!"

...while the stereo played that old familiar song, and we laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all. The roof. The roof. The roof is on fire...

And that's when I knew I'd be okay.

[bookloveravenue]

The Loyal Boys (book 1): Cali Boy by Charli Meadows

Finn

One devastating night. One tragic accident.

I survived, but the boy I used to be didn’t.

And I’ve been on a downward spiral of anger and resentment ever since. That is until my father makes a selfish decision that changes the course of my life and my future.

It brings him into it.

Golden-haired surfer boy, Oliver Chase.

Sunshine personified, and my new stepbrother.

I want to hate him, but his shy smiles and endearing dimples have me questioning everything I thought I knew about myself. I definitely don’t deserve him and I’ll probably hurt him, but the ease with which he breaks down the walls surrounding my battered heart might not leave me with a choice.

Oliver

I don’t look back when Mom moves us from our sleepy California beach town to the wealthy suburbs of Chicago. I need a fresh start, to leave all the negativity and hate behind me, and I’m taking it.

But I wasn’t expecting the grumpy, brooding, hurt boy that bangs on my bedroom door. Nor was I expecting the toxic relationship he has with his dad, my mom’s new husband.

With mounting tensions at school and at home, I’m not sure how to feel about this fresh start anymore, but what I do know is that Finn’s tender touches and growly commands make me want him. And you should never lust after a straight boy… especially your new stepbrother.

Cali Boy is an 88,000 word M/M stepbrother romance. It is a standalone and you can expect grumpy/sunshine, hurt/comfort, and steamy first times. This novel is intended for 18+ readers and touches on some sensitive subjects.

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/61432063-cali-boy

********

June 15, 2023

My Review: 5/5 Stars

Finn has been struggling ever since the car accident him and his mom got into and ended up taking her life. His father and him have a terrible relationship and Finn can't help but blame himself for the accident. Even though it wasn't his fault by a drunk driver's. And things are about to change once more when his father announces that he has remarried and that she and her son are moving in the next day. Talk about a bit of a shock. Finn wants to hate to hate Vivian and Oliver on principal but the moment he meets them. He knows he is in trouble. Despite loving California, Oliver is happy to leave it for a new start. After he friends turned on him after he told him he was gay, he has had enough of the bullying. Even if it means he is about to meet his stepfather and stepbrother. But as long as his mom is happy then he's happy. What he doesn't expect is for the pull he has toward Finn the moment they meet. He can see a certain sadness and hurt inside of Finn, but Finn only ever shows Oliver that he is protective and caring in everything he does. Oliver has never felt safer than when he is with Finn. The tension between them only gets stronger the more they get to know one another. And when their parents are away for their honeymoon, it won't take long for these two to embrace their feelings. Really loved this story! Finn and Oliver were such a great pair. Finn might be a bit broody and grumpy, but Oliver brings out a softer to side to him. A happier one after suffering for so long after losing his mom and essentially his dad. And Oliver gets to finally just be himself and feel safe for once. This was a great story all around with plenty of ups and downs and twists and turns. I couldn't put it down! Definitely looking forward to the next book in this series.

[pinnpointing]

Primary Colors of Youth: A Love-letter to Growing Up in Chiang Mai

Red is the color of the songtaew, the Chiang Mai staple. As a Chiang Mai native, I have spent several memorable events riding on these hybrid trucks. Going to swim practice or to cruise around town with friends through summer, winter, and monsoon season these songtaews are always a constant. Chiang Mai is my home and it was also my parent’s home. When they were younger, there were still rice fields in the heart of Chiang Mai, and the songtaew was their mode of transportation. Drinking coke was a luxury and so was swimming in a pool. Now, my time in Chiang Mai looks a little different as the city evolved. I learned English alongside my Thai and grew up playing with those of different religions, ethnicity, or background when I was pushed from an early age to attend international schools. I learned to keep or to take off my shoes when entering a house without even asking, learned to say goodbye at a young age, and make new friends. I learned various phrases in other languages and to take ease of being with those I do not look like. The world came to me. Everything I knew was within the natural wall of our beautiful, panoramic mountains and most everyone I knew was inside of it. The Chiang Mai that my parents grew up in is far different from mine, but it is still our safe zone. This is our home and the red songtaew is still a constant.

Yellow is the color of our Volkswagen that is parked in my grandparents’ driveway. Like an heirloom in our family, the wheels and the rough leather interior passed through decades of new drivers in our family. Starting with my mom, then her younger sister, and finishing off with her youngest brother, the metallic walls of the stick and shift bug are tattered with fond memories of teenage freedom. It was first driven in Mae Kha Jan, a tiny one-road town about two hours away from Chiang Mai when my mother tested out her new car with her best friends. She started the car and the yellow beetle awoke with a growling roar. The young, smiling faces of her and her best friends excitedly greet the car, and off they went to explore everything and anything they wanted to. The yellow beetle made its way to my childhood as well. Mom is a chatterbox with millions of things to say and in our morning car rides she would continue to tell her vibrant and nostalgic stories that she made with the car. In the perfectly preserved condition without seatbelts or air conditioning, her eyes twinkle in yellow as she tells me these stories and I relish the memories that were once her reality. Mom is also tough and full of love; the most loving lady I know. The beetle still roars in yellow just like the first time.

Blue is the color of the button-up I wore for my kindergarten class photo. Diverse boys and girls lined up with cheeky smiles on their faces. In the swarm of girls wearing their Sunday’s best, hair tied up in cute bows, a small, short-haired, frowning child wearing a light blue linen button-up, paired with a pair of black suit pants can be seen. That child was me and my inspiration for this look was the best person I knew, my father. The rolled-up blue sleeves, the cold stare, the frown. I mimicked him exactly and my kindergarten self felt on top of the world to get to be him even if it was for a picture. A short-built and tempered man with slick black hair laced with gel. Tan skin from hours spent under the sun and thick glasses from eyes that read hundreds of books. A closet lined with linen or cotton button-ups and suit jackets. Rows of polished leather shoes. He is the hardest and most ambitious man, but he was also a wise mentor and gentle teacher with many stories and advice to share. My father casually told me once in our car ride to school when I was small, “We must always do things from the heart and take responsibility for one another because we will be overwhelmed by the response of what comes back within ourselves and the community” and I never forgot it since. He is the best guy I know and blue is his color.

...

As a visualizer and art appreciator, my mind mainly works in colors. When making working or writing, arrays of colors flash in my mind like sunbeams through a stained glass window on a hot day. I tie everything back to colors― a scent (like strawberry and red), a sound (like piano and maroon), or even memory (my favorite childhood doll and green). People like my father or mother can even be a color. Every little bit and piece from singular images or thoughts form a vast blur of a rainbow. Primary colors like red, yellow, and blue that compose every color on the color wheel are giant but random pieces of events or memories that form me. They are my parents, friends, surroundings, stories, moments which then dictate who I am in my 19 years of life.

With millions of lessons yet to learn, and more memories yet to make, I am young and I am still trying to make sense of the world around me. As a 19-year-old, this year will be my last year considered a teenager and like the rest of the world, I spent these few years in a COVID-19 reality. Like many other students, I did not have traditional high school graduation nor a freshman year college experience. Emails, 4 am presentations, and zoom calls became my normal. Technology, a concept that seems to be growing faster than we can grasp, became a friend as it bridged all my connections in one device. A professor is an email away, a friend is a phone call away, and any news, article, song, or trending tweet is a search away— the world was at my fingertips. The rise in dependency on technology allows information to spread faster than ever which could be beneficial but also destructive. It allows platforms for courageous conversations such as environmental and social activism to grow and create sub-communities all over the world but also to spread misinformation and tear each other apart. Whether we like it or not, technology has weaved its way into our world and is aiding a new generation of young people like me. Yet, in such unprecedented times, I was able to learn so much beyond what study did in school. The world is so wide with an infinite amount of stories to share, listen to, and experience and we are only here for a brief moment. As my experience grows, the color palette in my headspace expanded as well.

When I returned to Chiang Mai in the fall of last year, confusion and frustration filled my mind as I was blindly navigating college life and also home life. Being home and in front of a screen all the time, my world felt extremely limited until I started writing with Khun Pim. That was when my curiosity sprung again and I was extremely curious about what Chiang Mai youth is like today. The UN writes that youth spans from the ages 15 to 24 years old and I used that to set out my research interviewing everyone in that age range. Yet, I still had no answer. After pondering and drafts over drafts, I realized the person I was truly missing is myself. What does youth mean to me?

To me, the essence of growing up is not one continuous storyline; it is a combination of moments that add up to make who you are. Unlike age, which is equated with numbers, the youth had no end and no beginnings. It is an array of moments that bring you to triumph, joy, fun, or even quiet moments when you are authentically yourself. It is the colorful images in our heads; the red songtaew, yellow bug, or blue button-up-- the powerful, courageous, bold, forgiving, and ever-changing rainbow blur of life, and in these moments, small or large, make up the colorful and unique mosaic of our youth. So whatever Chiang Mai youth is, I know that the answer is within you and within me.