#a few yrs ago me and my friend used to go to the park and play go | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lettersfromleslie · 1 year ago

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GIVING THANX / TAKING TO THE ROAD / SHIFTIN GEAR TO EVERGREEN

Long time no write! I'm reporting from the great Northwest, from Seattle WA, where Ariel and I have a fresh lease going on a big creaky 100-yr-old house high up on a hill with the Cascades loomin on clear days as well as old Mt Rainier, ol snowy Tahoma, off in the distance peekable from the bus I take into town for my daily yodeling. That's right… Not in New York anymore, for the time being. We're over in the other gutter of the great American pinball machine.

America, America… In the spirit of Thanksgiving -- thanky for being here, by the way -- let's write about America, or what's left of her, that great land my luv and I have been pinballing thru all year. Bout time I put in a personal note on the new shape of me life. It's been over a year since I last wrote - there's no need to fill in all blanks… My finger healed over the winter of '22-'23, which I survived thanx to a goofy gig selling Christmas trees in a freezing hut in Long Island City, and the springtime was a hectic whirl of almost daily park busking and running around.

The summer, though…! We had us a long, crazy summer this year driving a great big loop around the whole of the USA in search of, ya know, the land, the story, what goes on. The reason for it was really just a desire on both our parts for change & motion after over 10yrs stuck in the meat marathon of NYC. With the lifeclock ticking, our housing situation held together with bits of string, and a fairly empty calendar (a rare phenomenon in NYC, the always-something-coming vortex calendar being really a sneaky causer of inertia somehow), we figured the time was right to find out what the rest of the land was like, do the classic American road trip, and maybe post up somewhere new for a while at the end of it. So we gave it all up - left our tallboy Molson with friends, sold & gave away most of our belongings, and gave up our timewarp shithole of an apartment in Bed-Stuy, our old 1890s screaming rustpipe waterheater brick roach cigsmoke bar noise timewarp shithole - quintessential shithole - bye bye to 742 Myrtle Ave!

We dumped what was left of our belongings with Ariel's folks in Tupper Lake NY and from there we hit the road: Pennsylvania, West Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee, Arkansas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Colorado, New Mexico, Utah, Nevada, California, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, Nebraska, greatly speeding up by this point for the last rip thru Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and old New York.

Picturesque description I gave ya there, eh? Alright, what can I say… We camped all the way in our wee tent, with occasional motel stops when weather, personal hygiene, or exhuastion demanded, and I tried my damnedest to yodel for as much gas money as possible along the way. I had all my busking kit on me… Picture Ariel dumping me in some downtown and me trying to figure out where I was most likely to encounter that rare beast, the Mainland American on Foot. Oh, I don't know - listen, I'm not gonna give you the Jack Kerouac routine right now, maybe someday - a few months ago I tried writing a big long rambling rant about the whole thing and what I thought of it and what it was all like and I couldn't do it. I think maybe that's because it was a personal sort of trip, really a trip between me and the lil lady and the world that we were trying to say hello to in the moment. And now we're somewhere new and really that's what I want to think about, not the hallucinatory effects of watching the land unscroll thru a windshield for 10.000 miles. There's all this other stuff to talk about!

The land is large - let's leave at that. Nature abounds yet, and room to spread out. We saw the moose, the bunny, the eagle, the whale. The very large tree. The tumbleweed, the roadrunner. The Mystery Hole, the Hole N' the Rock. We hung out with all kinds of different people in diners and parkinglots, redneck Trump bars and lefty bookshops, libertarian coffee wagons, Walmarts and farmers markets and sketchy casino pyramid hotels - etc etc - and found everyone a lot easier to get along with than you'd ever know if you receive your worldview from the internet.

I found that busking is a tricky art in most of the USA. Spots are limited and attitudes are ambivalent. Either it's great or it's terrible. Farmers markets are good. Tourist areas are hit and miss. Special shout to Asheville NC tho for the most receptive and generous crowds I've ever found anywhere. Wild Jul 4th weekend it was.

I'll save the details for my novel or whatever. After a good long rest in Tupper Lake NY at the end of the road - and a brief stint in NYC in September - we put our heads together to plan the next move. It can be a downright diabolical thing to be put in a position where you have no real ties - no apartment in Brooklyn anymore, our stuff pared down to the bare minimum, no fixed work - and are called on to make one choice out of millions. We could go back to New York and find a new apartment, of course, but we both had this idea that it was time to try something new. Weeks of fretting led us to reluctantly admit that the Northwest had an incredible pull. Reluctantly on account of the outrageous distance we'd have to drive yet again to get there , this time with whatever worldly possessions we could fit into our car - our trusty lil Atilla the Hyundai - as well as our poor cat, Molson, who would be subjected to five days of driving and cheap motels smelling of the ghosts of a million dogs. And it'd also put us pretty well out of touch with our circles, our friends, our family, our constellations of Guitar Boys (an all-gender and all-instrument category, by the way). But all can be done…

(By the way: I'll still be yodeling in New York! I left my busking rig with a buddy and I'm making plans to travel back and forth!)

The Northwest won out for its artistic history, the seafaring vibes - ( whales !!! giant octopus !!! ) - the poltics & prosperity, and above all the absolutely outrageous nature surrounding it ( mountains !!! ) - we'd spent a downright spiritual five days camping in the Hoh Rainforest on the Olympic Peninsula during our travels, were amazed again driving thru Twin-Peaks-land on our way back eastwards thru the Cascades passes, misty surly mysterious mountains and o so mossy. We didn't expect to be able to afford anything really in Seattle Seattle but figured we'd wind up somewhere in its orbit - maybe Tacoma, Everett, Olympia, Snohomish, Bainbridge Isle. We gave ourselves ten days to find a spot. We were lucky enough to have a trusting relative on deck to help co-sign, on account of our joblessness & general jankiness.

Ten frantic days zooming around town and back to our teeny AirBnB and by now fairly pissed-off cat. Against all odds, and in the nick of time, a sketchy, photo-less Craigslist ad turned out to be the real thing - a big old creaky wooden house right in the middle of the good part of Seattle at a price we could afford. The only catch was its condition - it'd been left vacant for three years and was in many ways crumblin.

Which I enjoy! Cleaning, painting, ripping up old carpets, fixing fridges, replacing faucets, clearing out brambles & blackberries … bringing a wheezy ol house back to life. Be even better if we actually owned the place, but whatever. Big joys in having tangible work to do. The kind where you do it and you can see that what you've done has improved things. Nothing like fixing a stovetop hood extractor fan to get you feelin like a bigboyman.

With the hectic part now more or less behind us, we've been starting on regular life again, for lack of a better phrase… Working at what we do. Ariel's been oscillating somewhat frantically between pottery and sewing and drawing, and I've been at large in old Seattle yodeling hither and thither and seeing what can be made of the music scene out here. That'll be the story next time… What It's Like. Won't be as long of a wait on that one.

In the meantime … in spite of this country's frequent insanity, inanity, and downright insidiousness, in full knowledge of her appalling past and in the pain and destruction she finances, endorses, and covers for in the present … her sheer toxic dickishness, if we're being honest … I find myself thankful for this bloody pinball wreckingball machine USA, and especially the people in it, who have hearts the size of monster trucks. Americans - for what you have, for what hasn't yet been taken away, give thanks, give thanks! Everyone - well, god help us!! Give thanks anyway!!

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teddy-collects · 10 months ago

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🍇 His name was Lelo, I had him since I was a baby (he was replaced a few times due to incidents such as being yote out the window of a car by 2 yr old me I'm sorry Lelo). I slept with him every night and accidentally made him bald as I have trichitillomania, he went all over the house and on trips/overnight stays, and he was my main comfort object until I was 16. Then my parents dog got a hold of him in my room somehow (I closed my door often as their dog got into my stuff) and my mom found him in the basement as I came home from school and was searching for him, and she threw him away. Ever since I've been asking for a replacement every birthday and Christmas and trying to find one myself too.

🍈 I spend time with them and see what name feels right, or sometimes their colours or patterns on their fur help me decide

🍉 I tend to pick older stuffies, especially ones I had as a child (my parents got rid of pretty much all of them so I'm hoping to find them), well-loved or damaged plush that I worry won't find a home/have been there a long time, or ones that are really cuddly or stand out to me

🍊 In a pharmacy parking lot, I found a TY Beanie Boo unikitty that had been run over by a car. She was stained and soaked/a bit frozen as it was winter, she had some tears, her nose was broken and coming off. She needed a lot of love and help so I put her in my jacket and took her home, her name is Hope

🍋 I love taking them out on trips with me and taking photos of them, cuddling them and making kandi for them

🍌 I would love to own a huge Jellycat Lavender Dragon, a Jellycat Cosmo Monster,Jellycat Bartholomew Bear, a Charlie Bear, St. Louis Zoo Okapi Build-A-Bear, WWF Fennec Fox Build-A-Bear, Possum Build-A-Bear, a Nosey Bear, Jungle Joe's Safari Friends Longfellow Lion (my Lelo) and Zippy the Zebra, 1984 The Last Unicorn Plush, Quackers Beanie Buddy by TY, Whimsy Dragon Webkinz, Zombie Dog Webkinz, Black and White cat Webkinz, 1988 Littlefoot from Land Before Time by GUND and a lot more lol

🍍 One is my Purple Hello Kitty Build-A-Bear, I found her on FB Marketplace for $50 ($35 plus $15 for delivering her to me). Another is a childhood plush I didn't think I'd ever see again as she was destroyed by my babysitter's kid in front of me, I went thrifting and found her by accident, I started crying in the thrift, needless to say Winnie is home where she's meant to be

🥭 I love collecting older plushies from the 2000s or further back, I have a few 80's plush and even a little clown friend from the 70's made by Knickerbocker

🍎 I don't really organize them but we have shelves near my apartments front door that I display a lot of my toys, plush, and my books on, an Ikea book shelf full of plush, toys, and art supplies on the wall across from the bed, in that corner between the shelf and bed is where we keep a big stuffie pile, some are in storage in another room due to how small this place is and the rest are on the headboard/down my side of the bed. We also have a couch that has a group of plush next to it and along the back, and a shelf of squishmallows that one of the cats likes to hide in

🍑 I have a couple, my main one is a bunny named Haru, she's from Walmart I got her on clearance after Easter for $1.75 about 4 years ago. I sleep with her every night and she is in desperate need of a restuffing and a good brushing. Another is Jupiter Bear, he is a 2010 Limited Edition Star Wars Build-A-Bear, I found him at the thrift. He had a cigarette burn on his face that left a hole, and a few tears and looked very sad and lonely. I took him home and now take him everywhere with me, we do everything together and he also sleeps with me every night

🍒 When my partner and I went to their parents for Easter we got to go to the beach for a walk and to find some cool rocks, Jupiter Bear came with us and helped find some cool rocks and some little shells too

plushblr asks

🍇 what is the story of your very first comfort object?

🍈 how do you choose names for your plushies?

🍉 if you thrift plushies, how do you choose which ones to take home?

🍊 what’s the coolest /most unexpected place you’ve ever found a neat plush?

🍋 what’s your favourite way to interact w/ your plushies?

🍌 what’s your list of dreamies right now?

🍍 tell me about a plush you thought you’d never own but found!

🥭 tell me about your favourite category of plush to collect

🍎 how do you organize / store / display your plush collection?

🍑 tell me about your current favourite comfort object

🍒 tell me about a cool adventure you’ve taken your plushie on!

#plushblr #plush blog #stuffed animal blog #stuffed animal collector #plush collector #stuffed animals #plushies

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nctsplug02 · 4 years ago

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Can I request dad!johnny? he cheated with y/n so they broke up and 3 yrs later he saw y/n with their son (y/n a single mom) but johnny isnt still aware of it that it’s his kid? Angst-fluff maybe? Thank you!

get your popcorns ready, this is gonna be a long story.

genre: angst, fluff

—

You and your son were waiting in line for some ice cream, he heard the ice cream truck and asked to get some, of course you agreed since it was so hot outside. “Hello,” you greeted the man in the ice cream truck. “Hi, what can I get for you today?” He asks and you hum. “I think I’ll get vanilla. What do you want, baby?” You ask your three year old. “Can I get the brown one?”

The man chuckles and nods before heading back into his truck to get the ice creams. “Okay, here you two are! It’ll be five bucks.” You hand the man a five dollar bill before bidding your goodbyes.

“Y/n?” You turn your head to the direction where your name was called. “Oh, Mark? Taeil?” You’re shocked to see your olds friends standing in line, waiting to order their ice creams. “So it is you! Hyung, you owe me twenty bucks,” Taeil rolls his eyes at the youngster and nods.

“Anyways, how’ve you been? It’s been so long!” The young boy cheers. “I’ve—,” you feel your dress get tugged on. “Mommy, who are they?” Your son asks, hiding behind you. “These.. um,” you look back at Mark and taeil. “They are my friends from a long time ago.” You smile at the two men in front of you.

“Wait, your a mom now? Wow!” Mark covers his mouth in shock. “Mark, youre too loud.” Taeil tells him, Mark apologizes and lowers his voice. “Uh, yeah.. I’m a mom now.” Mark crouches down and holds a fit out to your son. “Hi, buddy! I’m mark!” Your son tilts to the side to look at Mark. He looks up at you who just smiles down at him. “I’m Sungchan.” Your son quietly introduces himself and hi-fives Marks fist.

“Nice to meet you, sungchan.” Mark giggles at the three year olds shyness. “Where are you guys off to?” Taeil asks while Mark tried to start a conversation with the three year old. “Just back to the park, what about you guys?” You point to the park that had no people. “Well, we came here to get some ice cream for us and the others, so we’re headed back.. over there.”

He points to a place behind the cars that were all parked and lined up. “Oh, who’s all over there with you guys? Maybe I’ll come with and say hello to them.” You smile at him, thinking about the others that you hadn’t seen either. “Well, there’s taeyong, Jeno, yuta, Doyoung, and Johnny.” He lists them out, you pause at the last name.

“O—oh, um, actually I think me and Sungchan are just gonna head home after this.” You hug Sungchan to your leg. “Oh, well. Here, how about we swap numbers so you can come over tonight? I mean, we are throwing a little party.” You think about it, what could go wrong with reuniting with some old friends?

“Sure! I mean, it’s been years since we’ve all talked and seen each other, so why not?” He laughs a little and pulls his phone out. You and him swap numbers before you and Sungchan left home.

Mark and Taeil walk back to the little group with ice cream cones in their hands. “Okay, take your ice creams! Me and Taeil have to tell you guys who we just met.” They all take their ice cream and wait for Mark to continue.

“We bumped into y/n at the ice cream truck, she looks better than ever!” Mark announces with a giggle.

——

Later that night, Taeil had texted you, telling you to come over for a bit. You got worried and asked if you could bring Sungchan, he said yes and that he didn’t mind.

You got Sungchan out of the car and knocked on the door. The door swings open and you see Mark at the door. “Aye! You actually came!” He gasps when he sees the three year old standing besides you. “Ahh! Sungchan!” He giggles and starts to jump. “Hi, Mark.” You giggle at how excited he was to see your son.

Mark shuts the door after letting the two of you in. “Are you hungry? Yeah, okay. Why don’t you go play with uncle Mark while mommy grabs you some food, yeah?” Your son nods and looks up at Mark. “Let’s go!” Sungchan grabs Marks hand and allows Mark to take him to the basement.

You sigh and start looking around for the kitchen. “Oh,” you find the kitchen filled with food that they had just barbecued. You hum and start looking for plates, paper plates are sitting on the counter which you grabbed. You filled with plate up with some chicken and rice. You reheat the cold food and while waiting a voice scares you.

“Y/n?” Oh, you knew that voice, you knew it well.

You turned around to see your ex lover standing in shock by the door frame. “Johnny, hi.” You inhale sharply. “Is.. is that your kid?” He points behind him.

- few moments ago -

Johnny sighs and opens the bathroom door. “Yo! Watch out, man!” Mark yells and pushes the tall man back into the bathroom. “Woah, who’s kid is that?” Johnny asks pointing to the three year old.

“Mhm.” You nod confirming his question. “Oh, well, how’ve you been—?”

beep, beep, beep.

The microwave saves the awkward moment. “I’ve been good, how about you?” You grab the food out of the microwave. “I’ve been.. good too.” He nods and tucks his hands in his pockets. “That’s good. Can you show me where the basement is?” He nods and gestures you to follow him.

Entering the basement, you could see your son playing with Mark. “Oh, my god! Y/n? It’s been so long!” Jungwoo gasps and sits up, running over to you and hugging you. “Hi Jungwoo!” You giggle and pst his back as he swayed you back and forth. “Gosh! So that baby must be yours, huh?” You nod and scrunch your face up. “Okay, well I see you have a plate of food so, go on.”

You walk over to Mark and Sungchan who are playing with some action figures. “Channie, come eat food.” You sit down and place the plate down. “Okay, mommy.” He crawls over to you and sits in front of you. “Here, ahh.” You open your mouth and so does he. “Omm, nom nom nom.” Your son giggles at your food noises.

——

After feeding your son, your son got tired and wanted to go home. “Hey guys, me and Sungchan are gonna head home. He’s getting really tired and cranky.” The guys frown and whine, not wanting you to leave just yet. “I’ll see you guys next time, okay?” Mark walks you to your car with Sungchan in his arms.

“Okay, bye y/n. Drive safe, alright?” You giggle and nod. “I’m not that bad of a driver, Mark. But yes, don’t worry. Goodnight Mark, don’t drink too much.” He laughs and nods. “Okay, mom,” he jokes, “goodbye channie, see you soon! Bye buddy!” He waves the little boy off before running back inside as you drove off.

——

For days your son had begged you nonstop if he could spend the night at Marks, and honestly, you didn’t know if Mark would be up for it or if he would be able to take care of your three year old. “Okay, I’ll call uncle Mark to see if he lets, okay?” The three year old cheers and nods.

You pick up your phone and start calling Mark.

“Hey, what’s up y/n?” The man sounded so lively. “Hi Mark, can I ask you something?” The boy nods and hums. “Okay, so lately Sungchan had been asking and begging for me to let him sleep at your place, so is it alright if Sungchan sleeps at your place? For like, a day?”

The man on the other line freaks. “Dude, of course! Send me your address I’ll come pick him up.” You giggle at his excitement, him and Sungchan are growing up as best friends. “Alright, ill send it.” The other line goes silent, bitch hung up.

“Channie! Go get ready! Uncle Mark is coming to pick you up!” The little boy cheers and runs into his room, quickly packing some of his toys and some clothes.

“Im ready, mommy!” He says with his backpack on and his shoes on the wrong way. “Good job, baby! Let’s go wait for uncle Mark outside, yeah?” He nods and runs towards the front door.

You and him are outside, youre sitting on the steps while he sat next to you. “It’s a pretty day, isn’t it?” Your son nods and looks at the flowers that were planted by the big tree in front of your house, it had a swing on it from your childhood.

A car pulls up and you grab Sungchan hand. “Oh, it’s uncle mark.” You let his hand go as he slowly walks down the stairs and then runs to his uncle. “Uncle Mark!” He jumps into the mans arms and makes the older man giggle. “Hey buddy!” He lifts up the three year old and looks over at you, who is walking towards them.

“Hey Mark, take good care of my baby, okay? He’s the only one I’m having.” Mark and you laugh, but soon after he nods. “Hey y/n?” You look in the car to see Johnny sitting in the passenger seat. “Oh, hey Johnny, didn’t see you.” He slightly laughs and then looks back in his lap. “Alright, ready to go, buddy?” The three year old nods.

“You go and be good, okay? If someone tells me you were being a bad boy, then you don’t get to go back to uncle Marks, got it?” The little on nods. “Okay, give mommy a kiss.” You turn your head and point to your cheek. You pull away when you feel his little lips press against it. “Okay, bye bye, baby.” You ruffle his hair. “Bye mommy!”

——

Later that night, you had ran to that store for some food and bumped into someone very attractive. You and him swapped numbers and starts going on dates after that. While on those dates, Mark would babysit for you, you offered to pay him for every time he watch your son but he didn’t accept it.

Tonight was a rainy night, you and jaehyun couldn’t go on a date so you both decided to stay in with Sungchan.

- a little recap of their night -

“Happy 8 month anniversary, babe.” Jaehyun says and clinks his wine glass with yours. “Happy 8 months, baby.” You take a small swig. “Mommy, happy happy day.” Sungchan holds up his cup of apple juice. “Aww, happy happy day, baby.” You giggled and clinked your cup with his.

——

It was so late and the rain made the three of you guys so sleepy, so the three of you ended up sleeping early.

A sudden faint knock could be heard from the living room. You sit up frantically, another knock. “Who the f.. it’s so late..” you groan and get out of bed, making your way down to the front door with a bat in your hand.

“Johnny?” You see Johnny standing in front of your door all soaked, he looked.. intoxicated. “Y/n..” he slurred and wobbled, he couldn’t even hold himself up. “Johnny, it’s late, what are you doing in front of my door at this time?” He laughs but it sounded broken. “I.. I miss you so much..”

he was just drunk talking, you said to yourself.

“Johnny, should I call Mark—?” He quickly shakes his head. “No, please don’t. If you do then he’ll yell at me.” You sigh, the cold breeze making your legs shiver. “I just miss you so much, I miss holding you at night, I miss the way you kissed me, please just take me back—“ you stopped his rambling, his drunk rambling.

“No, johnny, you don’t get to do this! I’ve finally healed after 4 years of our break up. I was so heartbroken that you cheated on me with some random chick from the bar. I was so hurt that you hid it from me and that I had to find out from Renjun and Chenle. This ain’t fair, johnny!” He laughs and nods. “He’s my son, isn’t he?” Great, a new topic.

“So what if he is? It doesn’t matter anymore, you were never in the picture anyway so why does it matter?” He looks up at you. “He’s my son—“ you shake your head. “No he isn’t, he isn’t. He may have your blood but he isn’t your son.” Silence took over, all that could be heard was the raining showering. “Just leave, please? I don’t want to ever see you again.” He steps closer with tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Y/n, please let’s just talk—“ the door opens wider. “She said to leave.” Johnny looks at the man besides you and then back at you. “Alright, I’m sorry..” Johnny turns back around and walks out of your property.

Jaehyun closes the door shut and is immediately taken into your embrace. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He shakes his hand and taps on your thigh, telling you to jump, so you do. “It’s okay, let’s just go back to bed.” He says carrying you back up to your room.

————

a/n: i got really tired and confused at the end. hopefully you can see where i ran out of words and ideas for this story. and by confused i mean like, not knowing anymore words, not knowing what to write and etc. hopefully i can fix this and make it better because it isn’t really that good. I’ll try my best next time! :)

#johnny angst #nct johnny #johnny seo #johnny suh #johnny smut #nct dad au #nct x reader #nct angst #nct fluff #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpop angst

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wortverlust · 3 years ago

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I FORGOT TO INCLUDE SOMETHING THAT HAPPENED TO ME YESTERDAY SO I'LL PUT IT IN TODAY'S INBOX TAKEOVER

I MET MY SHAMAN LADY FRIEND AGAIN YESTERDAY

okay, lemme explain–

basically, a few months ago we were at the part, and a mate of mine went to feed a squirrel and started chatting to this lady who was smoking a zoot. turns out she was this woman who had been to like, the mountains of tibet and hung out with monks and shit and yeah, she was just awesome. kept talking about how mycelium is the key to human/nature harmony, and how we should all be like mushrooms and help each other like they do. she identified us as The Maiden (myself), The Mother (my friend feeding the squirrel), and The Crone (my other friend with us at the time), which is like an old pagan belief, The Maiden represents the transition from winter to summer, The Mother summer to autumn, and The Crone autumn to winter. ngl this was such an insane meeting, and i never saw her after this.

UNTIL TODAY

definitely a fated meeting for sure. i wasn't even gonna leave the house today, let alone go to the same park where we first met. i'd been there since that day but hadn't seen her, so yeah fucking weird that it happened today. she told me about her new mans she met on tinder, who's astral sign is a dragon. red mf flag first off, especially for her. told me about her latest shroom trip and basically asked me to interpret LIKE I KNEW WTF I WAS TALKING ABOUT

turns out i did lmao and she was like OH FUCK YEAH NAH IMMA LOOK INTO THIS (shaman stuff about dragon symbolisms, the differences between a standard western and a wyrm cuz i'm super into my dragonology)

this was such a random ramble but i totally forgot about it in yesterday's inbox takeover so now it's today's... at like midnight cuz i didn't wanna request anything

OH AND SHE ALSO ASKED ME TO READ HER TAROT AND IM LIKE FUCK YEAH 51 YR OLD SHAMAN LADY IMMA READ THE FUCK OUT YOUR TAROT

i remembered cuz of your tarot card today... ANYWAY I KNOW THIS PROBABLY ALL SOUNDED INSANE AND ITS A SUPER IN-A-NUTSHELL RETELLING BUT YEAH I WAS SHOOKETH AND I STILL AM

luv you b <3

GO SLEEP

ESSA!!!

I WANNA FUCKING FEED SQUIRRELS TOO!!! LIKE WHAAAAAAAAT?!

okay…sorry about the outburst, let's talk about the actual topic ^^;; Ya have quiet some cool people around ya, eh?

BUT ya have to explain this to me... like I have no idea about anything. I have SO MANY QUESTIONS now efhoewihfoihwe Can you interpret any dream? What does it mean to have a dream multiple times? What is the dragon symbolism? How do you know your own astral sign? AND HOW/WHY DID SHE MEET HIM ON TINDER?! (Does Tinder actually work? AND IF I DOWNLOAD TINDER CAN I MEET YOUR SHAMAN LADY?! OR THE SQUIRREL?!)

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ri-ahhh · 5 years ago

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Okay but hear me out: Grayson begging to come with you to take care of your baby siblings (like 2 and 4 years old) and he’s ON IT but then they get really out of hand and he’s like “I can see why birth control is a thing”

Listen I worked in a daycare for four years and I’m a firm believer that anyone wanting to have a kid needs to work that job for a week. Or like, forget the stupid baby dolls you take care of in high school, let a 15 yr old take care of 5 babies or 10 2 yr olds by themselves and see if they’ll have unprotected sex lol

You’re walking around your apartment, straightening up the place and removing anything potentially breakable or that might be a choking hazard in preparation for the day you promised to babysit your niece and nephew, when your phone buzzes in the back pocket of your jeans.

“Hello?” you answer, unplugging a stray phone charger from the wall socket by the couch and replacing it with one of the childproof plastic covers.

“Hey,” came Grayson’s voice on the other end of the line. “What time do you think you’ll head over?”

You pause in the middle of the room, confused momentarily, then smack your palm to your forehead. You had totally forgotten the plans you had made with your boyfriend to have a pool day at his house.

“Shit. I’m sorry, Gray. I totally forgot, I told my brother like three weeks ago that I’d watch his kids for the day while he and his wife go house hunting.”

“Oh, damn,” he says, disappointed. His voice perks up when he speaks again, however. “I love kids, though! What if I came over and helped you out?”

You raise an eyebrow. “You want to spend your Saturday wrangling two toddlers? They’re little hellions, babe, to put it nicely.”

You can hear his grin through the phone. “Yeah. I wanna see you be an auntie.”

After a few seconds of hesitation, you relent. You’d be lying if you tried to say that you aren’t thinking about him being in dad mode for the day now, too. “Alright, but you don’t get to bail when shit hits the fan. Let me check that it’s cool with my brother.”

An hour later, you’ve got your just-turned-two niece Cami and her four year-old brother Cash sitting on your couch, entranced by Aquanauts playing on the TV, when Grayson knocks at the door. The kids’ heads jerk up, and your nephew looks at you questioningly, always excited for the opportunity to be a big boy and answer the door. You smile and nod, giving him permission to scramble off the couch with you following close behind.

You help him heave the door open, and he looks up at Grayson standing there, friendly smile fixed on his face when he sees your nephew.

“Hey, little man! Can I come in?”

Cash nods with an excited smile of his own. You had already told him that your friend Grayson would be coming over to play with them. Outgoing and extroverted and a genuine people-person to no end, he had been as jittery and excited as if you had given him a spoonful of sugar ever since.

Grayson steps past the threshold of your apartment, and holds his fist out for Cash to bump. “I’m Grayson.”

You feel two little hands tug on your shirt, and you look down to see Cami reaching up to be held, curious about this new person but also cautious. You sweep her up and settle her on your hip, then nod at your nephew. “Gray, this is Cash. Tell him how old you are, bud.”

“Four!” he shouts, counting out the correct number of fingers before holding them up to Grayson. “I had a Spider-Man party! Do you like Spider-Man?”

“Dude, I love Spider-Man,” Grayson says exaggeratedly, giving Cash an enthusiastic high-five. He looks at Cami, who’s got her head resting on your shoulder as she watches this stranger interact with her brother. “And who’s this?”

“You gonna tell Grayson your name?” you ask Cami, knowing it’ll be hit or miss if she does or not. Much more of an introvert and also used to having an older silbling do everything for her, she isn’t quite as quick to warm up to people as her rambunctious brother. Sure enough, today is a no-go, but she still observes Grayson with big eyes and a fascinated little smile.

Before you can answer your boyfriend, Cash speaks for her in that typical older-sibling fashion. “Her name is Campbell, but we call her Cami. Or Cam.”

“No way! My sister’s name is Cam, too!”

That’s all the small talk and mutual ground Cash needs to grab Grayson by the wrist and drag him into your living room to play with the pile of toys on the rug. He flashes you a grin as he passes, clearly impressed with himself that he’s already made such good friends with Cash.

You grin and roll your eyes, but follow them and sit with your back resting against the couch and Cami planted in your lap.

Admittedly, Grayson is a natural as he makes all the appropriate dinosaur and car crash noises and gladly accepts the Batman action figure instead of Spider-Man. He even coaxes Cami to take one of the animal figures, meeting her smile with a bright one of his own, glad to be making some headway now with the precious little girl in your arms.

Until Cash catches sight of the little plastic tiger now in Cami’s hands, and decides to ruin the moment completely.

“That’s mine, Cam!” he shouts, dropping Spider-Man and snatching the toy from her.

You know it’s coming, but Grayson is completely unprepared for the shrieking scream that Cami lets out as she clambers off your lap to take back the toy. Gray winces and looks at you in shock, but you’re just immediately going into ‘stop the fight�� mode.

“Cash, you weren’t even playing with that,” you reprimand, holding out your hand for him to reluctantly drop the toy into. You sit Cami on the rug next to him and make her look you in the eye. “Cami, use your words next time. What do you say when you want something?”

Her eyes light up when she sees the toy in your hand that she knows is about to belong to her once again. “P’ease!” she says, swiping her hand across her chest as well, leftover baby sign language engrained in her little brain.

You hand her the toy and make her say ‘thank you’ as well, then catch Grayson watching you in awe. “You handled that well,” he says.

You blush a little and shrug, crawling across the carpet now that the kids are happy and occupied so you can plant a soft kiss to his lips. “Hi,” you murmur, grinning against his mouth.

He chuckles and kisses you again, equally as chaste. “Hi.”

There are a couple more arguments that you have to stop, then they settle down for a bit while they eat a morning snack of banana slices and Cheerios. Cami definitely dumps her half-empty bowl on the floor to signify that she’s finished, and Cash accidentally spills his water everywhere after taking the lid off because ‘he’s not a baby.’ Grayson offers to clean it up while you take the kids to the bathroom to wipe Cami’s messy hands and face and to change Cash’s soaking wet clothes.

There’s a park nearby your apartment, so once everything is tidy again, the two of you round up the excited little balls of energy and head out the door. Both kids have easily become infatuated with Grayson, and as the four of you walk the sidewalk on your way to the park, he carries Cami on his hip while holding tightly on to Cash’s hand to stop him from chasing bugs into traffic. It’s an adorable image, to say the least, and makes your chest swell warmly.

You like watching him run around with Cash equally as much while you push Cami on the baby swings. Grayson is learning first-hand that even someone as in-shape as himself is no match for the energy of an excited four year-old. He chases Cash around the playground, flies him around like an airplane, and plays a game of tag before finally convincing him to come to the swings as well.

You laugh when he makes his way over, panting heavily. “Having fun?” you ask amusedly.

Grayson doesn’t answer, just takes his place behind the swing Cash chooses and catches his breath for a moment as he starts to push him.

“Just trying to figure out how my dad did this with me and E.”

Lunch and nap come next, which goes a little smoother than snack had. Grayson plays with them on the floor again while you cook, and you let him put out the squabbles himself until everything is ready. Cash only puts up a small fight when you lay them down in your bed. They’re both out in a matter of minutes, exhausted by the activities and excitement of their morning.

When you emerge back in the living room, you find Grayson slumped on the couch, staring at the TV that’s now playing Dora.

“Brushing up on your Spanish?” you ask, plopping down next to him and snuggling up to his side. “Or are you watching for the adventure?”

Grayson chuckles and wraps his arm around your shoulder so he can pull you closer to him, his voice gruff and tired. “You were right. Hellions, both of them. Cute, but insane.”

You tip your head up to kiss the underside of his jaw. “For what it’s worth, they loved you.”

“Really?” he asks, his voice lighting up with the smile you can’t see.

You nod against his chest, grinning as you think back on the day. “Absolutely. Cami never takes to strangers that fast, and you were able to keep up with Cash, which is a feat not many others can do.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Kinda makes me scared to have kids now. It’s only been like five hours and I’m already exhausted.”

“You’re meant to be a dad Gray,” you assure him quietly, lifting your head and offering him a gentle smile. “If I didn’t already know that before, everything I saw today definitely made me think so. And no good thing comes easy, right? I think being a little tired is worth having one of those of your own, don’t you?”

“For sure,” he nods, cupping your cheek and dipping down to kiss you softly.

You hum into his mouth, needy for him now that you’ve got him all to yourself, and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him down until you’ve got him sprawled our on top of you. You trace his lips with your tongue before slipping it between them, but at the first slide of it against his, Grayson pulls back.

“Is this okay, you know, with them...?” He nods down the hall to the closed door of your room.

You nod. “They’re heavy sleepers. We should probably keep it to over the clothes stuff just in case, though. And my brother will be here in an hour to get them, so we only have to wait until then.”

It’s enough to satisfy him, and Grayson ducks down again, ready to pick right back up, until he breaks away from your mouth once more.

“What?” you ask breathily, looking up at him with both confusion and frustration.

He reaches an arm behind you to grab the remote sitting on the arm of the couch. “I’m sorry, I just can’t make out while Dora is screaming at me to ‘vamonos.’”

#dolan twins #grayson dolan #grayson dolan fic #blurb #g blurb

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appalachianwiine · 4 years ago

Text

Swim Chapter 9 - A Friend

Chapter 9

And if it feels like it's already over

Lean in closer, rest your bones

You've got a friend when times get mean

Yeah, in the meantime I'm on your team

“In the Meantime” - Randall Kent

The day passed in an odd sense of time for Carol, while the kids and her classes kept her busy enough the moments between periods and over lunch seemed to stretch on forever. The opening and closing of the heavy classroom doors shoved and yanked by teenagers all too ready to leave class brought back clear memories of heavy hospital doors being swung open and the room filling with people. Every time a phone would chime or the office would call she’d be dragged back to memories of the nurses calling in codes and shouting for doctors.

3 o’clock came and went and instead of staying after to grade papers or work on paperwork she started cleaning up the classroom to leave. To get to the hospital by 430 she needed to be out of here by 4. She moved robotically through the motions of wiping down the desks and straightening the textbooks. Her mind was with Lydia and Daryl now.

She knew all too well the feeling of being in one of those rooms, time lost to the hospital. Morning, noon, and night change to first shift, second shift, third shift. Hours turning to IV drip times and vitals checks. It could crush a person alone like that and Daryl seemed to think he was very alone. She got the sense he had been for a long time and it worried her. It reminded her of Leah and Matthew really, they’d come from a small farm in northern Georgia and despite all of Carol’s pushing and offering and turning up Leah had never been friendly. Even Ezekiel hadn’t managed to get more then a few words at a time from the woman and he could get just about anybody to talk. She didn’t want to see Daryl and Lydia facing the same sort of isolation.

Carol stopped to pick up coffee for her and Daryl on the way to the hospital. It wasn’t a lot but sometimes a warm drink that wasn’t crappy hospital coffee could make a difference. Pulling into the hospital parking lot she spots a familiar face. The dark haired woman and little boy who’d come to see Lydia and Daryl a few days ago.

“Excuse me!” Carol calls, hurrying to catch up. The woman turns around. “Sorry sorry are you going to see Daryl and Lydia?”

“Yes.” The woman nods. “You must be Carol, from the group. I’m Dr. Grimes.”

“Yeah, Carol.” Carol nods. “Dr. Grimes, it’s nice to met you. Have you known Daryl for long?”

“Seven years almost. Carl was just a baby when my husband and Daryl started working together.” Dr. Grimes says. “I’ve been Lydia’s pediatrician since Daryl adopted her four years ago.”

“Oh.” Carol frowns, “Then you -”

“Caught the cancer?” Dr. Grimes nods. “Yeah, something was wrong, I pushed the lab to expedite the sample, and I’m glad I did it but I have to say that wasn’t ever a call I expected to make in my career. Especially not to someone I know so personally like Daryl. It’s the worst phone call I’ve ever made.”

“I can imagine.” Carol nods. “But I’m glad he has friends behind him, he needs them.”

“Well maybe you could tell him to call every now and then.” Dr. Grimes mutters, pressing the elevator door button. “He nearly gave us a heart attack the first time he called. It was nearly a full 24 hours after he came to the hospital.”

“It’s overwhelming.” Carol frowns. “Learning your kid is that sick, I’m sure he didn’t mean to worry you. He’s a nice guy.”

“He’s too nice.” Dr. Grimes sighs. “Carl step away from the doors or they won’t close.” She pulls the little boy back a step or two by his shirt. “Every time i call it’s vague answers and I know he doesn’t want to worry us but still…”

“He doesn’t want to be a burden.” Carol nods. “It’s - it’s pretty common in this world. Most people pull away when they learn you or your child has cancer. And the ones that don’t - we don’t want to burden the people who stay.��

“He’s always been like that.” Dr. Grimes sighs. “I just wish I knew how to help so he didn’t have to ask.”

“I can help with that.” Carol offers. “If you want.”

“Really?” Dr. Grimes says, ushering Carl out of the elevator. “What can we do.”

“Well - right now… everything is kind of managed for them, the doctors and nurses tell him how to clean, when to eat and sleep, what medications to take when.” Carol explains as they begin the walk down the hall. “When they get home, it’s - it’s going to be a lot scarier. Because then everything is on Daryl. If you’d like my help I’d like to help prepare the house for when he and Lydia get back. Pill organizers, cleaning supplies, wound care, that sort of thing.”

“Okay.” Dr. Grimes says. “Yeah, of course we’ll help.”

“Moooommmmm” Carl whines. “You’re being slow.”

“Alright, alright.” Dr. Grimes rolls her eyes good naturedly. “Sorry about him, this is the most he and Lydia have been apart in a long time. They were in the same class at school, and they were supposed to go to camp together this summer.”

“It’s fine.” Carol chuckles, picking up the pace slightly.

Lydia’s room has a white board attached to the door reading;

LYDIA DIXON - 8 YRS

IV VINCRISTINE

“Mom what’s vin - vin -” Carl frowns. “That?”

“It’s medicine baby.” Dr. Grimes says. “To help Lydia get better, but it might make her feel sick so we need to be quiet and calm when we go in okay?”

“Okay.” Carl nodded solemnly, reaching for his moms hand.

Carol leans forward and knocks on the door.

“Come in.” A tired, gruff voice says.

Carol pushes the door open and holds it for Dr. Grimes and Carl to go in first. Lydia is curled up in a ball on Daryl’s lap, pale as a ghost and wrapped in a blanket.

“Carl!” Lydia mutters, moving off Daryls lap and holding her arms out. Carl looks up at his mom and she nudges him forward. That’s all it takes for him to rush over and embrace Lydia.

“Hey Daryl.” Carol smiles. “I brought you decent coffee.”

“Thank.” He mutters, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. “T’ be hones I think I’m too tired t’ tell the decent stuff from the shit stuff.”

“Long night?” Carol asks.

“Yeah.” Daryl mutters. “Thanks fer comin’.”

“Of course.” She offers a supportive smile.

“How’s Carl an’ Judith?” Daryl asks turning to Dr. Grimes.

“Judith started walking, much to Shane’s horror. I sometimes forget this is the first baby he’s responsible for.” Dr. Grimes chuckles.

“Hey that’s a hell of a shock.” Daryl says. “Imagine getting a four year old and having no parenting experience.”

“You’re doing great.” Dr. Grimes says.

“Thanks Lori.” Daryl mutters. “So uh, you met Carol?”

“Yeah we ran into each other in the parking lot.” Carol nods. “So, how you holding up?”

“Um.” He glances at Lydia and Carl, who are now both wrapped in Lydia’s blanket on the end of the bed and whispering to each other. “It’s uh - it’s been a rough day. Henry and Ezekiel came by earlier, tha’ was nice. But It’s just kinda...”

“Numb?” Carol asks quietly.

“Yeah.” Daryl nods. “Numb. I was uh lookin’ at this binder and it’s - it’s like… it’s insane. I mean, three months in the hospital getting intensive chemotherapy. How do - how I even prepare for that?”

“You ask for help.” Lori whispers. “And you take it when it’s offered.”

“She’s right Daryl.” Carol says. “Those stays are impossibly hard when you’re on your own, so you let us help.”

Daryl didn’t look so sure about that, and next to her, Lori folded her arms. “Daryl Dixon. You’re not on your own anymore and trying to do it all on your own isn’t going to let you focus on Lydia. So you’re going to let us help. Got it?”

“Alright, alright.” Daryl runs a hand over his face.

“And right now you’re going to let us help by going down to the cafeteria with Carol and getting some real food.” Lori continues, looking over at Carol and raising an eyebrow. “Because if theres one thing you look like you could use right now it’s a good meal and an adult conversation.”

“I shouldn’t leave Lydia.” Daryl argues.

“She’s fine.” Lori insists. “She knows me, and she and Carl can watch a movie.”

“Lyd?” Daryl asks quietly. The little brunette turns back to look at her dad. “You okay if I go get some food with Ms. Carol?”

Lydia cocks her head and looks between the two of them. “I… I guess. You’ll come back?”

“Soon as I’m done.” Daryl nods, leaning over and kissing her hair.

“Okay.” Lydia nods.

“You two want to watch a movie?” Lori asks, motioning them out of the room.

Daryl lingers and Carol reaches out and touches his arm lightly. “Come on, they’ll be fine.”

Daryl doesn’t say a word until they’re out of the room. “Sorry about Lori she’s just -”

“She’s looking out for you.” Carol cuts him off. “I know it feels awful leaving her right now, but you have to take a minute to recharge too. Come on, I’ll buy you lunch.”

“You don’t have -”

“I’m doing it.” Carol insists. “We can go over that if you want.” She nods at the binder still in his hands. “I uh, I know pretty well whats in there. I’m sure you have questions.”

“Oh.” He frowns at the folder. “Do uh - do we have to?”

“No.” Carol says, stepping into the elevator. “We can just chat if you want. Try to get your mind off of everything in there.”

Fifteen minutes later she and Daryl are sat with a soda and sandwich each at the back of the cafeteria. Daryl seems to realize he’s hungry and inhales half the sandwich without a word, he pauses abruptly, mayonnaise on his face and turns red.

“Sorry.” He mutters, reaching for a napkin. “I uh -”

“No need.” Carol smiles. “I’ve been there, any food you have eaten has been eaten in between what little sleep you’re getting.”

“Not gettin’ much ‘f either at the momen’.” Daryl mutters. “Lydia was up most of the nigh’ sick again. Probably will be again t’night. The only time she settles is when I hold her.”

“Yeah Sophia was like that.” Carol nods, taking a bite of her own sandwich.”

“I’m usually pretty strict ‘bout everyone sleepin’ in their own bed but I can’t bring myself t’ say no right now.”

“Sophia only slept with me when she was sick too.” Carol nods. “I was always bad at saying ‘no’ while she was sick, but they do need some semblance of structure and routine.”

“Yeah.” Daryl nods taking a swig of his coke. “Tha’s gonna be hard, I know when we get home an’ she’s safe an’ secure again she’s gonna lash out an’ stuff, but I’m gonna have a damn hard time keeping boundaries.”

“I did too.” Carol nods. “Sophia was processing a lot at her diagnosis - our living situation had changed, I left her dad, it was a nightmare.” Silence hangs between them. “Have they said when you’re going home?”

“Hopefully sometime next week.” Daryl mutters.

“Okay.” Carol nods. “Lori and I are going to get the house ready for you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Carol sighs. “You’ll need some things, medical supplies, pill organizers, hand sanitizer, bedding. Something I like to do for the families here is help get their house ready to be home again.”

“You don’-” He stops, seeming to take what they’d said earlier in. “Thanks Carol.”

“It’s why I’m here.” She says, taking a bite of her own sandwich. “No one was for Sophia and I and I’m not gonna let that happen to anyone.”

“Her dad a dick?” The blunt way he says it makes her raise her eyebrows. “Sorry.” He mutters sheepishly. “I uh - I shouldn’ ha-“

“It’s fine.” She says quickly. “He uh - he was yeah. I left because I thought he hurt our little girl.” The words tumble out before she can stop them and she blinks, stunned at herself. She never spoke of Ed. She never spoke of why she was single. She left it at messy divorce and that was that.

“Shit.” Daryl mutters.

“Yeah.” Carol nods.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “It ain’. Ain’ nothing I can say gonna make it okay neither.”

There’s that blunt honesty again. Harsh, but welcome. No ‘I’m so sorry that happened’ or ‘you’re so strong’ just ‘ain’ nothing I can say gonna make it okay neither.’

“You’re special victims yeah?” Carol asks.

“Yeah.” Daryl nods.

“So I guess you’ve seen some of that.” She nods.

“Yeah.”

Silence hangs between them again.

“Thanks.” He says. “Fer all yer doin’ fer Lydia an’ I.”

“You don’t need to thank me, I’ve walked this path before. A little closer then I’d like, so if you need anything or just want some adult conversation just call.” Carol says.

“I- yeah, I will.” Daryl nods. “I uh, didn’ mean t’ scare ya this mornin’ if I did. I jus’ - you’re the only person I could think of to call.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” She smiles, reaching across the table and squeezing his hand. “You’re a good dad Daryl, and you’re gonna get through this.” Her attempt at a reassuring smile falls a little flat, because this time she’s not telling the entire truth. He will get through it, but Lydia? She was a different story all together, one with possibilities no parent wants to face.

#caryl fanfic #twd fanfic #caryl fanfiction #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon #carol peletier #lori grimes #carl grimes #lydia twd #lydia dixon #caryl #the walking dead fan fic #the walking dead fanfiction #fic; swim #cancer tw

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randomoranges · 3 years ago

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welcome back to teacher au

this is based on two real experiences. me as the new teacher 6 yrs ago and me this year befriending the new teacher.

In the Beginning [The Genesis of Things]

Étienne walked out of the building and tried to get his bearings. This wasn’t the main entrance, but the street was a ways ahead and therefore, off school grounds. He was still overwhelmed and reeling from the 180 shift his life had taken in the past three hours and right now, he really wanted a smoke, even if he was meant to be gradually quitting. God, he already missed summer and this was only the first day on the job. Was he even going to make it? Was this going to be a regret?

The plan had been to substitute for this year and get his water legs, so to say, before seeking out an actual contract. However, just last night, a school had called him for an interview. He figured the interview experience would be good and he never, in a million years, figured he’d get the job.

The interview hadn’t been all that bad – he couldn’t really get a reading from the vice-principal, but he’d gone back home and figured he could chill and move on with his life. The only problem was that the moment he literally sat down, his phone rang. It had been the school secretary, telling him that he’d been hired and could he come back for the welcome back meet and greet.

So that was what he’d done.

He’d taken a moment to be happy, gotten on the next bus and had returned.

And then reality hit him in the face.

Instead of having the year mostly off to do whatever and some subbing, he now had a full contract, for a full year, with many different classes to teach for which he had no plan whatsoever. He’d been ushered into the giant auditorium, where all the other teachers were already mingling and – it had all been too much. He liked crowds, liked meeting new people, but – it had been a lot in a very short span of time. Too much noise, too much stimuli and too many new responsibilities he hadn’t been ready for.

Therefore, the moment they were let go to “work on their lesson plans and set up their classrooms,” Étienne had found the nearest door to get out and get some fresh air. Ground himself. Try and calm the fuck down. Not panic. (He could do that later at home, where it would be safe.)

That was how he found himself walking off the school grounds, in the direction of the park, to have a smoke. Do something that felt normal and like himself instead of whatever hot mess he’d just thrown himself in.

The taste of nicotine in his mouth was welcomed and comforting. Familiar and soothing in its own unique way. He was able to focus on something else for a moment and it gave him the peace of mind he needed to get his jittery nerves under some control.

“Sorry, do you have a lighter?”

Étienne blinked and looked to the side to find a man standing beside him, holding a cigarette of his own. He had a book bag with the school logo on it and Étienne assumed he was one of the teachers at the school he’d just been hired.

“Sure,” He pulled out his lighter and passed it on to – his colleague, he supposed.

“You’re one of the new teachers, right? They mentioned your name earlier,”

Étienne nodded, mostly on automatic. He hadn’t been looking for conversation, but – this wasn’t too bad. A friendly face never hurt anyone, “Yeah – art; you?” He asked after a beat; it was only polite to ask, he figured.

“Fifth grade. Is this your first contract?”

“Yup,” It was and he was extremely nervous about it. For many reasons. Mostly because this was his first real job post graduation. And the fact that he still wasn’t sure he actually wanted to do this. Despite changing programs three times. And forever doubting himself. And feeling very under qualified. And inadequate. But he was digressing.

“Oh! Welcome! You’ll see, the school’s pretty great. I’m Edward, by the way,” The man – Edward, put out his hand and Étienne reached over and shook it.

“Thanks, I’m Étienne. Have you been teaching long?” Edward looked young – his age, maybe a little younger, but it was hard to tell.

“This is my fifth year here – I did two other schools before that.”

Étienne whistled low – he was impressed. That was so much experience, from his point of view. It only made him a little more aware of how new he was at this job and how late he was starting the game.

“You’ll see – you get used to it fast once you get your groove and settle into your routine. The kids are pretty chill, all things considered – but I was a nervous mess when I started too.”

Étienne wasn’t sure if he felt better or not and twiddled with his cigarette.

“If you want, I can show you around? I don’t know if you got a tour of the school?”

He laughed at that, “I got hired a few hours ago. It’s a miracle I found the vice principal’s office. I would not say no to a tour. Hell, I don’t even know where the art room is – or if there is an art room.” He had meant to ask and had forgotten. The nerves had gotten the best of him and then the partial excitement.

“We have a really nice art room, actually. I’ll walk you to it after we’re done.”

“Appreciate it.”

They finished off their cigarettes and then Edward walked him back to the building, as promised, chatting him up along the way, which was a welcome distraction. This, he could do. This was familiar as well. It was less jarring than the big crowd of strangers who all knew each other.

They started going towards the art room, which was thankfully not in a dingy basement and turned out to be quite big and nice, just as Edward had said.

“If you want, we can have lunch together later. I can come get you here so you don’t get lost,” Edward grinned and Étienne wanted to hug the man. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve Edward’s kindness, but a friend at the moment sounded like the greatest of things and it would definitely make things a lot less lonely.

“I would not say no,” He admitted.

“Excellent – I know what it’s like to be the new guy at the school of old timers; s’least I can do.” This time, Edward’s smile was softer and Étienne felt that maybe, just maybe, the two of them would become actual friends. “Well, in that case, I’ll let the you and the room get acquainted and I’ll swing by around twelve. I can give you my number? In case anything comes up – either my end or yous?”

“Okay, yeah,” He took out his phone and handed it over so that Edward could send him a text.

“There, you’re all set,” He smiled and maybe, for the first time since arriving at the school for the second time that day, he believed it. “You’ll be fine, trust me. I’ll see you later.” With a wave, he was gone and Étienne found himself smiling to himself, even if he was still a little nervous.

It was then that he looked down to his phone and smiled for real when he saw the message Edward had sent him, “Welcome to the team:)”

FIN

#pc: montreal #pc: edmonton #edward murphy #étienne maisonneuve #au #teacher au #fic

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creek-cryptid-deluxe · 4 years ago

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Some of you guys may remember awhile back (but not THAT long ago) that I was kind of losing my shit because The Spawn was neglecting her dog duties that she agreed to do with my dad when Indie was brought into our household. Yeah? No? Eh, either way I have an update on that.

Just a small recap for anyone who doesn’t remember or is new here (I’m still pretending that people actually read this like... for realsies): Way back in August I said no to The Spawn bringing home a dog 5 seperate times because I knew how it would end up. Then she went to my dad, who is soft, and my dad told me that he said yes, but under certain terms and conditions. (TERMS: The Spawn was to handle all expenses related to said dog, would handle all care, training, and exercise needs and at no point was responsibility for the creature to be put on me at all because I had already unwillingly taken on responsibility for Bailey via him bringing her home and I don’t need more.) I laughed and said “Yeah... sure.”

end of Sept we noticed something was wrong with pup’s left front leg. After numerous vet visits and lots of funds, Indie was put on one room, no jumping, no running restrictions from early Oct until the first week of December because her shitbag previous owner had broken that leg in 2 places and while it had almost entirely healed, it had clearly not been treated because one break was at her elbow growth plate, causing her elbow to grow out sideways. So there was an orthopedic operation to remove the already present buildup that causes arthritis, then shave down some bone and pin her elbow back together.

Since December, The Spawn has been HARDCORE slacking off on her duties to exercise the pup, who as a rat terrier/chaos demon mix has an abundance of energy that if not properly channeled and expelled, leads to significant criminal activity. The Spawn was taking her for a 30 min walk MAYBE 3 times a week and not doing any other play. Meanwhile, my broken down ass was trying to make up for it by walking her or doing HOURS of laser hunting and fetch. Dad tried to help by walking her with Bailey every night, but about 4 weeks ago that ended with him getting a broken rib because the girls saw a cat before he did and he didn’t have time to brace himself. He has been publicly banned from walking the little one.

RECAP DONE.

So me supplementing has been really wearing on me. The entire reason I don’t personally have any pets (despite very much wanting a bunny or a couple rat friends) is that I don’t have the energy to be responsible for their care. So for the last few months, every 2 weeks or so, I break down to dad, ranting and crying about how I can’t keep doing this and that he allowed this to happen, so it’s his problem and he needs to fix it like... NOW because if it continues, I’m going to get involved and I will not be nice. As in every day that she doesn’t exercise the dog properly, she will lose her tv for a day. No entertainment for her dog means no entertainment for her. He kept saying “no no no I’ll do it.” then not fucking doing it.

2 days ago, I broke. No ranting. No anger. Just broken sobs. It’s just too much. He promised AGAIN to talk to her. Well yesterday there was an incident that was the last straw for him I guess.

While he was at work, The Spawn went to walk Indie. When she does walk Indie, once for 30 mins, she’s been implementing training to get her to be better behaved on the walks because Indie suffers from barrier aggression. When on the leash, behind the fence that surrounds our yard, or behind the windows inside the house, if she sees another dog walk by she loses it. Hell when getting them ready for walks, once she is on leash, she will lose her shit on Bailey. SO The Spawn has been filling her hoodie pouch with treats and before they even leave, they go to the door, The Spawn says “Sit. Wait...Wait...” with the intent of Indie sitting until the door is open. Eventually there will be a command involved that gives Indie the all clear to get up and head out.

So they go through that yesterday around 3 or 4 in the afternoon. They depart for their walk around the neighborhood and within a few minutes I hear Indie’s “I’m losing my shit” bark/snarl combo and The Spawn yelling commands at her. A minute or two later, The Spawn storms in with Indie in tow and says “Well since she decided she can’t behave, we aren’t walking today.” And I looked at her skeptically from across the room because dogs don’t work like that AND exercise is not a privilege for dogs, it’s a necessity. So not walking her because she misbehaved would be on par with me not allowing The Spawn dinner because she misbehaved. Then, seeing my face, The Spawn says “She needs to learn that there are consequences for her actions.”

Y’ALL. I involuntarily laughed, so I had to turn away from her and pretend I was coughing. Let’s talk about why I find this hilarious. This statement came from a 16 yr old child who a few weeks ago was asked to watch the dogs for a couple hours while I went to grandma’s to help her with something. I had been reminding her DAILY for a week that this was happening. As I expected, she tried to weasel out of it. I told her that it wasn’t up for discussion, she was doing it, and that I had phrased it as a question as a courtesy. She began to argue. I told her 3 times over the span of an hour that if she didn’t stop arguing that there would be consequences. She chose to continue, so she found herself grounded from her tv and car for the day. (At the end of that hour and after 3 warnings, all via text and verifiable, I finally just told her to bring me her keys. She chose, instead, to come downstairs, empty handed, and CONTINUE to argue, so she lost the tv too.) She threw a massive tantrum which ended with her screaming and crying to my dad about how abusive and mean I am. *insert eyeroll from both of us* All over, what? The consequences of her own actions.

So you see why this was funny. Anyway, I let her go upstairs and text dad that we needed to talk when he arrived and to text me so I could meet him out in the garage.

I met him out there and relayed the events to him. He also involuntarily laughed about the dog needing to learn that her actions have consequences. Then he said “Ok, I’m talking to her tonight.”

Now, my dad has a signature move for when he has to have tough or unpleasant conversations. He says “Let’s go get ice cream.” I think it’s meant to soften the blow while also catching the person off guard and being in public for less chance of a scene.

Anyway, they talked. The overall gist was “we made a deal. the deal is not being upheld. Bailey is a much lower energy dog but still requires 2 seperate 4 mile walks a day, and your high energy PUPPY is getting 1/4 of that at best on most days and your mom and I have been picking up the slack as best we can but that has resulted in a broken rib for me and your mom is really at the end of her rope and has been unable to actually rest for a full couple days like she needs to recover from all the random shit she does for you like covering kettle corn and berries in chocolate.”

The Spawn tried to make excuses. “I’m in school full time AND working.” My dad responded with: “First of all, you aren’t in school full time because you do 2 hrs a day in person and then another hour online AT MOST 5 days a week, then work 4-6 hrs at night 4 days a week. Second of all, I work 13 hrs a day 5 days a week and yet I still find a way to make sure my dog’s needs are met via a 4-6 mile walk before work and another in the evening after dark, unless your mom is up to pokemon in the park, which Bailey comes with us for and gets significantly more walks. So that excuse is b.s.”

She mentioned that she tried that day but she misbehaved. dad told her that no matter how she is behaving, walks are not negotiable. Then he used my dinner analogy. She finally gave up trying to make excuses to be lazy and told him that on days she doesn’t have both work and school she will do 2 hrs worth of walks. (I mentioned to dad that this leaves 3 days a week where she is implying she doesn’t have to do anything. he said he will address that but not that night.)

To her credit, The Spawn has done 2 hour long walks today. She even came up with a plan. The first half of each is structured walk/training time and the second half will be at the dog park across the street so that she has unstructured running time where she can get up to full speed. Keeps her from getting frustrated and bored on the walk and allows her to get full speed runs in without killing The Spawn’s knees.

We shall see how this holds up long term. Fingers crossed and all that.

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jemmydoolz · 5 years ago

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Edgar Has Always Been Kind of a Bitch

hi okay so it's a little after midnight but I'm posting a fic rn bc it's the first fic I've written in like,, a yr and a half and also I'm rlly excited abt it??

anyway battle buddies/fahc jeremwood angst based on ramblings in a gc

(warning for minor assault implications at the beginning, and brief mentions of a suicide attempt at the end)!!!

Fiona and Gavin decide that what Jeremy needs is a night of bevs, and, to put it simply, get wasted, so the crew settles on going to a club that Friday. Jeremy only has one or two drinks, but boy does he get fucked up.

Ryan’s sitting and talking with Geoff and Jack in a booth, sipping a diet coke. He looks over Jack’s shoulder to see Jeremy standing at the bar with a much taller, more intimidating man looming over him. The guy reaches out toward Jeremy, who leans away from the touch. Jeremy nervously laughs and his eyes frantically dart around for someone, anyone who might be able to help him.

“Hello? Earth to Ryan?” Jack waves her hand in front of Ryan’s face.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah. sorry. Hey, um, I’m gonna go home, I’m just not really feeling great,” Ryan murmurs as he slides out of the booth, already heading toward Jeremy.

“Um, alright, I guess? Drive safe,” Jack calls after him.

Ryan speeds up when he sees the man grab Jeremy’s arm. Jeremy’s face flipped through a thousand emotions at once when he saw Ryan approaching, but eventually landed on confused but grateful. He gave Jeremy a look that said just go with what I’m about to say.

“Hey, babe,” Ryan says. The man immediately drops his grip on Jeremy’s arm. Jeremy does his best not to choke on his own spit when he hears the word babe come out of Ryan’s mouth. He hadn’t heard it in so long, and he didn’t think it would still hurt so much.

“Oh, hey!” Jeremy turns to Ryan and reaches up to peck him on the lips. “Where’d Edgar go? It’s his birthday, I figured he would wanna hang out with his friends!”

Fuck. Mentioning something about their friend ‘Edgar’ was always code for I don’t feel good about this, let’s leave. Edgar’s birthday meant I’m having a panic attack, I need your help. Ryan wanted to punch the guy that was practically feeling Jeremy up. No—he wanted to fucking kill that bastard. He and Jeremy may have had a severe falling out, they may have suffered years of heartache and longing, but he still felt responsible to make sure Jeremy was safe.

“He said he kinda wanted to go home. He went to the bathroom while I found you. You, uh, just about ready?” Ryan’s eyes flitted between Jeremy and the other man, who cleared his throat and mumbled something about needing to go find his friends before walking off.

Jeremy and Ryan both sigh in relief once he’s gone.

“Wanna head outside for some fresh air for a minute?” Ryan asks, getting a meek, obviously shaken-up nod in return.

Jeremy says something that Ryan can’t quite hear over the music as they walk outside.

“Hm?”

“Oh, nothing. It was dumb.” Jeremy shakes his head. Ryan has had enough experience to know that it was better to just leave it alone. They both wordlessly come to a stop and lean against the wall of the building a few yards from the door. Almost as if they had been working as partners for years. They spend a few minutes saying nothing, watching people on the street, looking at the stars in the sky. Ryan can’t help but study the intricacies of Jeremy, realizing that so many things have changed, but somehow almost nothing about him is different. Jeremy’s hair is just a tad bit more grown out than it ever was at the agency (also, it’s bright purple and orange, which is not exactly the most appealing color combination, but that’s a topic for another day), but he still runs his hands through it when he’s lost in thought. It’s curlier than it used to be, but maybe that’s just because it’s longer. He still clenches his jaw so hard it seems like he’s going to break his teeth when he’s scared. He still wears a tank top under his shirt, no matter how hot it is outside. His eyes still crinkle at the corners when he lets out a bark of laughter that Ryan still swears up and down sounds exactly like a squeaky toy. He’s changed, though. Ryan can see in his eyes that he’s become aware of reality. He knows the responsibility he carries, the heavy consequences that come with his actions, that death is around the corner at every moment.

“D’you- d’you want me to take you home?” Ryan says barely above a whisper, but loud enough for Jeremy to hear. “You can go back inside if you want, but I know you always used to want to go home and be alone after Edgar shows up.” Jeremy lets out the tiniest breathy chuckle.

“Edgar has always been kind of a bitch, hasn’t he?” Jeremy says as he looks away from the sky to meet Ryan’s gaze, and his heart falls apart all over again for the thousandth time. That fond look of reminiscence and joy was one Ryan donned frequently at the agency. “I- Yeah. yeah. I’d really appreciate a ride home. I’m just a little too drunk to drive, I think.”

“Alright. I parked just down the street. Penthouse or your apartment?” Ryan hadn’t even noticed that Jeremy did seem somewhat tipsy; his Boston accent slipping in occasionally and his words slurring the tiniest bit.

“Um, apartment,” Jeremy says. “D’you rem-”

“Yes, I remember where your apartment is, Jeremy.”

It’s only a few minutes into the drive to the other side of town when Jeremy pipes up. “I honestly didn’t really expect you to help me. I didn’t expect you to remember Edgar, either. I dunno why I said it, I guess just vaguely hoping you would even though it’s been, what, three years?” he pauses for a moment and just takes in Ryan's profile. “I always hope you remember things from then. I know it went to shit, but we still had so much fun. We made so many memories and did so much dumb shit there. But I’m glad that stupid fuckin’ place collapsed. All of it was complete bullshit. I just wish it all fell apart before we did.”

Ryan doesn’t know how to respond. So he doesn’t.

“All those meetings I had to stay late for? Fuckin’ useless. They served no purpose, and I don't know why I was forced to go to them. I feel like the only reason I had to go to those meetings was because someone was hiding something from me. It was obvious that so many things were kept from us.” Jeremy stops for a second to try to will away the lump rising in his throat. “I thought you were cheating on me. For the longest time. I still don’t know whether you actually were. You were always out on ‘special missions’ and shit.”

The moment Ryan hears Jeremy let out a shaky breath his heart breaks.

“Was it me? Was I not good enough? I promise I tried my hardest to be what you needed. I’m sorry if I wasn’t. All I wanted was the best for you, Ryan. Even now, I just want you to be happy. If you're happier with someone else, then that’s what I want. I don’t blame you, though. I don’t deserve someone like you. You deserve so much better than me. I would do anything for you, Rye. We were together for so long. We did everything together! I thought I was gonna marry you. I was saving up money to get a ring. I guess I was too stupid to see that you didn’t want me anymore.”

Ryan looks over to see the tears staining Jeremy’s cheeks reflecting the soft orange glow of the streetlamps. Is this really what Jeremy thinks?

“I was so in love with you, Ryan Haywood. I’m- I’m still in love with you. I love you so goddamn much it hurts sometimes. Every time I see you hurt, upset, angry, anything other than healthy and happy my heart aches. I’m sorry I wasn't enough. I promise I tried. Fuck, I tried so hard.”

With every sob Jeremy lets out, Ryan's heart breaks just a little bit more. The short distance left until Ryan pulls up to Jeremy’s apartment building is spent wordlessly. Jeremy’s clambering out of the car and reaching to grab the door when Ryan speaks.

“Hey, Jer, do you want me to walk you up? I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“No. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I’ve already been a pain in your ass tonight, I don't need to waste even more of your time. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything.” Jeremy sniffles and wipes his cheeks, giving a half-hearted smile before shutting the door and walking away.

Ryan sits there for a second, unable to process fully what he just heard. He starts driving without even knowing where he was going, and he’s so lost in his thoughts that suddenly he’s sitting in his car in front of the boardwalk along the beach and crying. He can’t believe anything he was just told—there is no way in hell that the brilliant, witty, talented Jeremy Dooley ever doubts his worth. It’s jarring to think that part of it was because of Ryan. He was going on extra missions because the agency was growing more and more demanding. For months they tormented Ryan with the threat of kicking out Jeremy. They said they’d do other things to him that Ryan doesn’t want to remember. Why did Jeremy never bring it up? Why did he just accept that Ryan had ‘moved on?’ Their lives were so intertwined with one another that Ryan never felt truly whole again. The only reason Ryan went with the break up was that he saw how distant and cold Jeremy had gotten. Ryan had assumed that, for whatever reason, Jeremy had changed his mind. He hated it, he was devastated, but he didn't know how to fix it.

Ryan decides he doesn’t want to go back to the penthouse tonight. He pulls up to the nearest crew safehouse, and suddenly things click.

Jeremy had always struggled with bad self-image and depression. He had gone to Ryan for comfort, which he was always more than willing to give. Jeremy was doing better. At least he told Ryan he was.

Jack had mentioned a while ago that when Jeremy first joined the crew, she had found him after a suicide attempt and barely left his side until he recovered. The only reason for it Jack had told Ryan about was ‘emotional trauma from a past relationship, that he didn’t really want to talk about.’

Ryan did that to him.

Ryan made the love of his life want to die.

The pieces left of his heart fall into more shards than there are grains of sand in this world.

He collapses onto the couch inside, too exhausted to even get to the bed. He knows he’s not going to be able to sleep, though.

To: Geoff

Dropped Jeremy off at his place, he was pretty drunk though so check on him please

To: Geoff

I’m staying at kung fu safehouse for the night

#my fic #holy fuck #i did that !!!#thats a whole ass 1874 words babeyyy!!!!!#fahc #fahc ryan #fahc jeremy #fahc au #angst #battle buddies #fake ah ryan #fake ah jeremy #fake ah crew #fake ah au #minor suicide mention #suicide mention tw #ragehappy

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unfolded73 · 5 years ago

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Husbands: Two Years In (4/5) - schitt’s creek ff

This fic is complete, posting every other weekday. While I'm including it as part of the "Labels" series, the preceding fics are not required reading. Previous fics in this series: Boyfriends; “I Love You”, Partners, Fiancés

Warning: This fic deals with depression as one of its major topics.

Special warning for this chapter: This chapter comes with a referenced underage sex warning, although Justin has turned 18 by this point. The sex is only discussed in somewhat vague terms with Patrick, but there is a 4-year age difference between participants that some readers might find upsetting.

Rated Explicit, this chapter 4737 words. (ao3)

Thanks to @high-seas-swan for cheerleading and B13_MaybeThisTime for many valuable comments (and also cheerleading).

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

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

Chapter 4: Autumn

The first thing that struck Patrick when he awoke was the quality of the light in their bedroom. The days were getting shorter, so why was the sun through the window so bright? He fumbled for his phone, saw the time was 9:23, and sat up with a start. He should have been at the store an hour ago, he thought, his heart starting to pound.

There was also a text notification from David, and he thumbed over it to read it.

David: You turned your alarm off 3 times so I figured you needed to sleep. I’m opening and you can come in whenever. ❤️ you.

Patrick quickly responded with I’m up now, sorry, a stab of guilt in his chest as he fought his way out from under their warm comforter. It was his job to make sure the store opened on time, just as it was David’s to close up without Patrick a few nights a week so that Patrick could get a head start on errands. But now David was carrying his weight because Patrick couldn’t manage to get out of bed on time. He berated himself throughout his morning routine and in the car all the way to the store. He decided on a quick detour to the café to pick up a coffee for David as thanks.

While he waited for Twyla to get his drinks, he spotted Ronnie across the room and gave her a half-hearted wave. She appeared to be finishing up, and she made her way over to the counter slowly, the check for her breakfast in hand.

“How are you, Patrick?”

“Good,” he said, even though it wasn’t anywhere close to the truth.

“Hey, I meant to tell you after the last council meeting but it slipped by mind. There’s an LGBTQIA+ group over in Thornbridge that meets up once a month that you might be interested in. I hadn’t heard anything about them in ages — thought they might have disbanded after marriage equality made some people think there wasn’t anything left we needed to fight for. Back in the day they used to organize protests, letter writing campaigns, things like that. I guess they still do.”

“Oh. That’s cool,” Patrick said, unsure where Ronnie was going with this. Wondering how she managed to rattle off all those letters so easily.

Ronnie huffed, annoyed. “You mentioned that you had missed out on the activism part of it all. This would be an opportunity for that if you were interested.”

Patrick frowned. “Thornbridge is a long drive.”

“Here you go, Patrick,” Twyla said, setting two to-go cups down in front of him.

Rolling her eyes, Ronnie handed her check to Twyla to ring up at the cash register. “Suit yourself.”

“No, I’ll… I’ll definitely look them up,” he said. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Uh huh,” she responded, her skepticism that he would do any such thing obvious in her voice. He couldn’t really blame her for that. He was skeptical too. Waving goodbye to Ronnie’s back as she left the café, Patrick sighed, then paid Twyla for the drinks.

He gave David a wincing smile as he entered the store. David was dealing with customers at the register, so Patrick set the drinks down on the counter and went over to see if any of the people browsing in the back of the store needed any help. Guilt churned in his stomach again, that David had been forced to come in early and work the store alone just because Patrick was too lazy to wake up on time.

When the store had finally emptied out from that little mid-morning rush, Patrick made his way over to David.

“I’m really sorry, David,” he said, picking up his tea from where it was still sitting in the cardboard tray.

That was David’s cue to be dramatic, to pile on with some teasing scorn for burdening him with opening the store. Patrick would feel perversely better if David flopped down on the counter right now and moaned about how much he had suffered this morning. Instead he gave Patrick a sweet smile and said, “Don’t worry about it.”

It was somehow worse. He didn’t want David’s generosity.

“I can close this evening.”

“You don’t have to do that. Closing is my job on Bethany’s days off,” David said.

“And opening is mine. So let me make up for this morning,” Patrick said, some of his testiness coming out in his voice.

“We don’t need to keep score. You’ve been really tired lately.”

“That’s not an excuse!” He was almost shouting. “David, just let me close.”

Now David looked a little annoyed. “Fine. Oh, also I took care of the car insurance payment.”

Patrick narrowed his eyes. “The what?”

“They called and said they hadn’t gotten our payment? So I paid them over the phone; I hope that’s okay.”

Patrick winced. There was a stack of unopened mail on his desk at home, he could see it in his mind’s eye, and he was pretty sure that the car insurance bill was in that stack. “Sorry, I guess I forgot.” He felt the urge to shout at David even though it wasn’t his fault, even though David had once again done something to help him. Or maybe because David had done something to help him.

“It’s no problem,” David said matter-of-factly. Then his eyes lit up. “Oh! And Ray called. He said there’s a retail space in downtown Elmdale that just opened up that we might be interested in.”

Doing his best to suppress the swell of panic he felt at that news, Patrick moved to go back into the storeroom behind the counter. “Uh huh.”

“He said it looked about the right size for Rose Apothecary,” David continued, following him. “What do you think? Should we go take a look at it?”

“Maybe,” Patrick said, shuffling a stack of invoices on the table.

David huffed. “Can you not show even the tiniest bit of enthusiasm?”

Patrick looked up and stared at him, caught between anger and guilt, when his phone chimed with a text. Patrick pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen.

Justin 🌈: i might need yr help

“Hang on, I’ve got to respond to this,” Patrick said as he typed, What’s up?

There was a pause, and then dots finally appeared as Justin typed. “Who is it?” David asked, sounding annoyed.

Justin 🌈: how long would it take you to get to toronto from where you live

“What the hell?” Patrick muttered as he typed: 4 hours, why?

“What’s the matter?” David asked.

“Justin is asking me how long it would take me to get to Toronto.”

“Your cousin Justin?”

“Yeah,” Patrick said as the next message appeared.

Justin 🌈: i’m stuck here and i don’t want to call my parents

“Okay, I’m calling him,” Patrick said, clicking the header at the top of the text chain and then clicking the call button.

“Hi,” Justin said when he answered, that tiny word somehow sounding ashamed.

“What do you mean, you’re stuck in Toronto?” Patrick asked without preamble.

“I took a bus here? And now I kind of don’t have anywhere to stay that’s… umm… safe.”

The bus trip from Patrick’s hometown to Toronto must have taken forever, he thought. “Do your parents know where you are?”

The phone speaker crackled with Justin’s heavy sigh. “They think I went with my friend Alison on a weekend trip to a waterpark in Niagara.”

“So you’ve woven a complicated web of lies is what you’re saying,” Patrick said, meeting David’s eyes. David grimaced with a mixture of sympathy and intense curiosity.

“I came here to meet someone, but…” Justin sighed again, and this time it sounded laden with tears.

Patrick took the phone away from his ear to look at the time. “If I leave now I might be able to be there by 2:30. Can you text me with where you’ll be?”

“Are you going to call my parents?” Justin asked.

Patrick hesitated. He did need to tell them, but he didn’t know what was going on yet, and he didn’t want Justin to change his mind and disappear into the city, never to be found. “Let’s talk about that later,” he said. “For now, just let me know where you are.”

As soon as he’d disconnected the call, he met David’s eyes regretfully.

David waved his hand to dismiss the apology that he could probably read on Patrick’s face. “Go.”

“He said he took a bus all the way to Toronto to meet someone, and it sounds like something bad happened.” Patrick said, his mind immediately going to all kinds of dark places.

David nodded like he had guessed as much from hearing Patrick’s side of the conversation. “I’ve been there. Well, in my case, it was taking the jet without permission to Berlin, but same idea. Go get him. I’ll take care of the store today.”

The drive felt interminable. Patrick tried to distract himself with an audiobook so that he wouldn’t think about the kind of man that would lure a boy to Toronto, and what that man might have done to him. It didn’t work. He eventually turned the book off, realizing that he hadn’t taken in a word of the story, and switched to music.

At the end of three and a half hours (he’d exceeded the speed limit a lot), Patrick parked in front of the diner that Justin had sent him the address for and went inside. He spotted the boy immediately in a booth, hunched over his phone, and Patrick steeled himself, walked over, and slid into the booth across from him.

“Do you want me to get you something to eat before we get on the road?” Patrick asked.

Justin shrugged. “You don’t have to do that.”

Patrick plucked one of the laminated menus out of the holder and opened it. “All I’ve had today is toast. I need to eat anyway. Are you sure?”

“Did you call my parents?” Justin asked.

“Not yet.”

Sighing, Justin grabbed a menu for himself.

Once a bored waitress had come over and taken down their orders for burgers and fries, Patrick leaned back in the booth and folded his arms. “Tell me what happened.”

Justin seemed braced for an argument, and he came out swinging. “Do you get that there’s only one other gay guy in my whole school? One. So it’s not like there’s anyone for me to date there.”

Patrick nodded. “I get that.”

“So I met this guy Mike on TikTok — I followed him, and he followed me, and we ended up DMing each other a lot.” Justin narrowed his eyes. “Please don’t ask me what TikTok is.”

“I don’t need to ask you what TikTok is,” Patrick protested, although really he only had the vaguest idea.

“We really… vibed with each other, and he goes to school here in Toronto so he invited me to come visit him for the weekend.”

“When you say he goes to school here…”

Justin huffed. “He goes to college here.”

“So he’s a few years older than you.”

“Four years is not that big of a deal.”

Patrick agreed with that in theory, but when one person is barely eighteen and the other is twenty-one or twenty-two, it could very well be a big deal. So far Justin had said nothing to soothe Patrick’s worries, and he felt like he needed to know the worst of it before he vibrated out of his skin. “Did he pressure you to do something you didn’t want to do?”

Justin squared his shoulders. “I’m not a kid.”

“I know you’re not. That kind of pressure can happen to adults too.”

As quickly as he’s drawn himself up, Justin deflated. “It wasn’t that. I felt like I was ready for… you know.”

Resisting the urge to trot out the old chestnut about how people who were having it needed to be able to say it, Patrick added, “for sex.”

“Yeah. But it… it was awkward and… and really not good and I just… I needed to get out of there this morning.” He put his head down on his folded arms. “I have a non-refundable bus ticket for tomorrow, but I didn’t have anywhere to go tonight, and—”

“Hey,” Patrick said, reaching over and putting a hand on his arm as the waitress showed up with their food. “I’m glad you called me.”

They ate in silence, and then Patrick paid for the meal and led Justin and his overstuffed backpack out to his car. Justin sank into the passenger seat, exhaustion in his every movement. Patrick wondered how much sleep he’d gotten. He sent David a quick text, letting him know that he had Justin and they were on their way back.

“Can I ask you something else?” Patrick ventured.

“I guess.”

“Were you safe with him? With Mike?”

“He used a condom, yeah,” Justin said.

Patrick heaved a sigh of relief. “Okay, good.” He started the car and pulled out into traffic. “If you’re going to be sexually active with multiple people, or, you know. With people you don’t know very well, it would still be good to get tested regularly. It’s a good habit to get into.”

“What, am I supposed to go to my pediatrician and ask him to test me for herpes and HIV and stuff?”

Patrick mulled that over. “Back when I was your age, there was a clinic about an hour away that I know people would go to for testing and, like, abortions. We can look it up when we get back to my place.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

They settled into silence, Justin staring out the window and Patrick focusing on driving carefully.

“I thought you were going to be a lot harder on me for going to meet a guy alone or whatever,” Justin eventually said.

“Well, don’t get me wrong, it was incredibly stupid to go hundreds of kilometers from home without telling anyone where you would be, to meet a guy that you’d only communicated with online. You’re lucky you weren’t sexually assaulted or murdered.”

“There it is,” Justin said, sinking lower in his seat.

“But I sympathize with doing a reckless, stupid thing for love.” He thought about going into business with a guy he didn’t know very well in part because he’d finally, for the first time, recognized that he had romantic feelings for another man. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out with him.”

Another long silence passed. “I thought it would be… I mean, I knew it wouldn’t be like porn, but I’d read some stuff online, and he said he knew what he was doing, and I thought it would be…” In his peripheral vision, Patrick could see Justin cover his face with his hands.

“What?”

“I knew the sex might not be amazing, the first time, especially… you know. Doing… you know.”

“I don’t know, actually. Do you want me to guess?” Patrick said with a smirk, trying not to sweat too much over this conversation.

“Bottoming,” Justin finally said, his hands back over his face. The word was somewhat muffled.

“Oh.” Jesus, kid, you couldn’t start with a handjob? Patrick thought. His thoughts immediately went to his own first experience with that act, at Ray’s house with David while Ray was out playing poker. It was a very good memory. “I mean, it can be amazing, even the first time, with a patient partner.” He was very glad to have the road to focus on; he didn’t think he could have had this conversation looking his cousin in the eye.

Justin didn’t respond to that for a minute, back to staring out the window. Then he finally said, “Yeah, Mike was… not that, I guess.”

“He didn’t, umm… hurt you, did he?”

Justin snorted bitterly. “Not… I guess he just didn’t care if I enjoyed it or not.”

“Then he’s a complete asshole and you’re well rid of him,” Patrick said, thinking that he’d like to punch this Mike guy in the face. Convincing a young kid (albeit above the age of consent) to board a bus to come all the way to Toronto, and then to treat him like that… “I hope you blocked his number.”

“Yeah, did that while I was waiting for you to pick me up,” Justin said, his voice wavering. “God, I’m so stupid.”

“No, stop it. You’re not stupid. You did something rash and… and dangerous, but for understandable reasons.” He debated what to say next. “I will need to call your parents. I don’t need to tell them everything, not the… sexual details. But I can’t hide this from them. For one thing, we need to figure out how to get you back home.”

“I can take the bus.”

Patrick frowned. “I don’t feel great about putting you on a bus alone after what you’ve been through.”

“I’ll be fine,” Justin groused, and Patrick understood that teenage stubbornness, that visceral hatred of being babied.

“I know you will be,” he said.

He took Justin straight to the house when they got to Schitt’s Creek. Justin looked around with interest at his surroundings while Patrick first texted David to give him a quick summary of what happened, then went into their office/guest bedroom, closed the door, and phoned his cousin Sara.

“Patrick!” she said in answer to his call. “How are you? Everything okay with your parents, I hope?” Her quick words betrayed that immediate worry when a distant family member calls, that something terrible has happened.

“They’re fine. I’m actually calling about Justin.”

“Oh, he’s on a weekend trip with his friend Alison’s family. Did you not try his phone? He told me you guys have been texting, and I can’t thank you enough for being a friend to him.”

Patrick steeled himself. “Yeah, so what I have to tell you is that he’s not with Alison. He went to Toronto to meet a boy. It, umm, went badly, and he called me. I drove out there and picked him up and brought him back to Schitt’s Creek.”

There was a moment of silence, and Patrick imagined Sara trying to process all of that information at once. “What do you mean, it went badly. Is he okay?”

“He’s okay. Heartbroken, probably, but he’s not really talking about that. He’s safe.” Patrick said.

“Was he… did he have sex with this boy?”

Patrick ran a hand over his face. “Remember how you told me that I could keep his confidence as long as he was being safe? I told you the unsafe part, the… the getting on a bus to a big city to meet someone from the internet part. The rest of it, I think you’re going to have to ask him.”

She sighed. “Thank you for going to pick him up, Patrick. God, that must have taken you all day.”

“It’s okay. I’m happy to help,” he said, because he was. At the very least, it had effectively distracted him from his own problems for several hours. “He wants to take a bus back home. Are you okay with that? He can sleep here tonight and then I can put him on a bus tomorrow?”

“No, I should come pick him up,” she said, but she sounded uncertain. For good reason; it would be a fourteen-hour round trip for her to do that.

“I’ll watch him to make sure he gets on the right bus,” Patrick said. “And send you the schedule so that you’ll know when to expect him. Okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Her voice trembled, like the implications of what might have happened to her son were hitting her belatedly. “God, he could’ve been—”

“I promise he’s okay, Sara. Do you want to talk to him right now?” Patrick asked, opening the door and walking back out to the main part of the house.

“Yes, please.”

Patrick found Justin in the kitchen, standing awkwardly with his hands shoved in his pockets. “Your mom wants to talk to you,” he said, handing him his phone. He left the room to give Justin some privacy and went to make up the bed in the guest room. As he pulled sheets down from a shelf in the linen closet, it occurred to him that he’d been a little bit jealous of Justin, before: self-aware enough to understand his sexual orientation as a teenager and self-assured enough to come out to his parents. But it was just another path, another person’s journey to being their whole self — not better or worse than Patrick’s path, just different. And plagued with its own pitfalls.

Justin found him to give him back his phone as Patrick was smoothing a quilt over the neatly made bed.

“How mad was she?” Patrick asked.

“Pretty mad,” Justin said. “I’m definitely going to be grounded, but it’s not like I have anywhere to go anyway.” His hands went into his pockets again.

Patrick clapped him on the back. “Well, you can worry about that tomorrow. Want to come help me make dinner?”

That was how David found them when he got home. To his credit, David acted like a teenage houseguest was a normal occurrence, asking Justin politely about his high school and his interests and avoiding anything about the reason he was at their house.

At least, he did that until they were finishing dinner, when David draped his arm over the back of Patrick’s chair and said, apropos of nothing, “When I was sixteen, I convinced my dad’s pilot that I had permission to take the family’s private jet to Germany to meet a guy that I only knew over AOL Instant Messenger.”

Justin frowned with confusion. “What’s AOL Instant Messenger?”

David suppressed a whine. “Okay, never mind that part. That’s not the important part.”

“What happened?” Justin asked.

“The guy turned out to be in his forties and into a lot of kinky shit that I barely knew the terms for, much less—”

“David, I don’t know if this is an appropriate story—” Patrick began.

“All I mean is, you can do stupid stuff as a teenager and survive it and… and learn from it, I guess,” David said. “I don’t know! I’ve been where you are, that’s what I’m saying,” he huffed. “And one other thing, in case Patrick didn’t mention it. Something I didn’t know back then.” David was giving Justin a serious look. “Consent can be revoked at any time, for any reason. No matter what you may have consented to before.”

“Okay,” Justin said, blushing. “Thanks.” Then he wrinkled his nose. “Private jet?”

“My life was very different back then,” David said with an imperious sniff.

~*~

Patrick gave David a wan smile when he joined him in bed that night, after they’d spent the evening playing board games and watching TV with Justin before finally packing him off to the guest room to sleep. “Thanks for helping to keep Justin entertained.”

David got under the covers and let out a long breath. “He’s a good kid; he’ll be okay. He’s got that Brewer earnestness.”

Patrick laughed. “Brewer earnestness?”

“You heard me.”

They settled into silence, but neither of them reached to turn off their lamps. Patrick considered picking up a book and trying to read, but the hours and hours of driving had left him shattered. Maybe he’d just go to sleep.

Before he could turn off his light, he became aware of David looking sidelong at him. As Patrick so often could, he could read David’s face easily: David had something he wanted to say that he wasn’t saying.

“What is it?” Patrick asked, rolling to face David, one hand tucking up under his pillow.

“Nothing,” David said quickly, his eyes widening a little before he averted his gaze.

“David.”

There was a pause as David appeared to weigh his words. Every millisecond edged Patrick’s worry higher. “There was something I wanted to talk to you about earlier, but now with all of this Justin stuff, it seems like a bad time,” David said, not meeting his eyes.

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

David exhaled audibly. “Don’t get mad at me.”

“Why would I get mad at you?”

“Because… look, I spent a lot of my younger years in therapy, and I’ve spent more years than that struggling with anxiety, you know that. I’ve had panic attacks. I still have spiraling, intrusive thoughts sometimes. Mental health is… it’s complicated.”

Patrick felt a cold spike of panic, and he pulled himself up into a seated position against the headboard. “Yeah.”

“So I of all people know that there’s no shame in needing help.”

“David—”

“I might be totally off base, but I think it’s possible that you’re depressed and it might not be a bad idea for you to see a professional,” he rushed out, wincing, his face twisting like he was bracing for an argument.

“I don’t… I’m fine.” The words came out without his permission, a denial from deep in his gut. He needed to be fine. He needed David to not be saying these things.

David sat up next to him, his hand reaching over tentatively to touch Patrick’s thigh. “You don’t seem fine,” he almost whispered.

Patrick felt a swirl of emotions: irrational anger and shame but also relief. Relief that David was putting a name to the thing that Patrick feared, and that he was pointing out a path that Patrick could choose to walk like it was no big deal. Like it was normal. But the shame momentarily rose up and dominated his mix of feelings, and Patrick drew his knees up and leaned his forehead against them.

“I mean I get it, I’m not an easy person to be married to, I know that, and—”

Patrick lifted his head. “What? David, no.” He grabbed David’s hand and squeezed it tight and swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat. “You are the only bright spot in a sea of… of…” Lacking a suitable metaphor, Patrick brought David’s hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. “It’s nothing to do with being married to you. I’m grateful every day that I’m married to you.” His eyes burned with unshed tears. “I’m just… I’m so sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?” David asked softly.

Patrick let go of David’s hand and put his own hands together, twisting his wedding ring. “You shouldn’t have to deal with me like this.”

David’s arm went around his shoulders. “What are you talking about,” he said, like Patrick was being silly.

Patrick met his eyes again. “I’m supposed to be stable. I’m supposed to protect you and take care of you and—”

“Okay, but that’s not the way marriage works?” David said. “Sometimes I can be the protector. You can be the one that falls apart sometimes.”

“But that’s not who you married.”

“Patrick, I married you.”

Swiping away the tears from his eyes in frustration, Patrick resisted the urge to get out of bed to put some space between himself and David. “I wasn’t raised to talk about my feelings, you know that. Or at least, not to talk about difficult feelings.” He plucked at a loose thread on the blanket over his legs.

David chuckled. “I do know that, yes.”

“So I’ll probably be terrible at therapy.”

Kissing his cheek, David said, “Well, you’re naturally gifted at too many things, anyway. It’s past time for you to be terrible at something.”

“I’m terrible at a lot of things lately.”

“Mmkay, you’re going to learn about a thing called ‘recurring negative thoughts’ if you end up seeing a therapist,” David said, scratching affectionately at Patrick’s shoulder. “I think you and I will be able to bond over that one.”

Patrick leaned against David, in the circle of his arms, and let out a heavy breath. Not for the first time in their relationship, he felt like an enormous weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. “Thank you, David.”

(Chapter 5)

#schitt's creek ff #schitt's creek fic #david x patrick #david x patrick fic #david x patrick ff #my fic

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musedblues · 5 years ago

Text

Always Something There To Remind Me [Part: 1]

summary: Home is where the heart is. You're working on finding yours. After a handful of misfortunes, your old friend Joe helps to unravel life's greatest mystery while adding a bit of extra grief to the mix.

warning: Major character death, mentions of car crash, angst, and general sadness

w/c: 2k

a/n: Proceed with caution this fic will probably break your heart. This first part deals with a lot of backstory. It's been really cathartic for me to start writing this. It will be my first full-blown chapter fic, so stay tuned for more sorrow! (but it gets sweeter, I swear!)

Part 2

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"I'll just miss you." Joe cast his sad eyes to the airport gates. You would miss him too, but you knew you'd end up back together. You always seemed too.

"Just try and remember what it was like before we met. But don't forget to call me!" You teased, full of adrenalin that surged through your feet and charged you away from your home, family, and very best friend.

///

For a little while, you measured time before and after moving to New York. Your father split before New York. Your mother had a break down before New York. Then you moved. Your mother became a sought after wedding photographer in New York. You started and finished high school in New York. You made a very best friend in New York.

As hard as it was to leave Joe behind, that timeline was eventually skewed after you moved to Wales. You met Kris in Wales. Then, every single thing before Kris faded into relative obscurity. Even the dream you had in every place you lived before.

You wanted to play the piano. You played every dance recital, choir practice, and bar mitzvah that came across your highschool bulletin board. Through a series of whims after graduating, you decided to move to London to play the piano in shopping malls and hotel lobbies while waiting for better gigs.

Kris singled you out during a show one of those late-night low down venues and demanded you play some Eton John number. He utterly charmed you and raved about your talent, and showed up every night you were on the bill with another outlandish request. His request eventually blossomed outside of the musical universe. He asked you to come up to his hotel. He asked you to go to dinner. He asked you to move back to his home town, Wales.

You were hot on his trail, blinded by his pretty blue eyes and the fun you'd been having together. Kris played the guitar. He drove you deep into the lush green fields where sheep roamed between castles and posh shops popped up across the road from his tiny brick one-bedroom flat, where you moved in no questions asked. Kris took you to all of his gigs, which mostly consisted of county festivals and birthday parties. Kris eventually stopped opening party invitations to strictly play bar gigs. They would barely bring in enough money to pay rent, but Kris gained more of a following and he swore that was more important.

You picked up a job tending one of the more hip pubs trafficked by college kids and hardly any creeps. That's where you met Tegan. She had long dark hair, and you'd never seen her without a smear of dark eye shadow surrounding her big green eyes. She trained you on the drink specials and Welsh slang, and in turn, you told her all of your secrets.

Kris started traveling to bars in the surrounding cities, drinking more than he played the guitar but somehow scraping up enough money to go out and do it again the next night. You stayed behind your bar top and bonded with Tegan like a long lost twin. She understood you, and you respected her. Not only for her values and opinions but for the way she let you take extra long breaks to call your best friend, Joe. The one from New York, before Wales.

"When are you gonna come home?" Joe whined like a little boy through the cell phone static that represented the time and space between you.

"Why? You're never there. You're in L.A. and Australia and everywhere but New York." You laughed bitterly into the phone. You weren't upset with Joe at all. You just missed him. You missed walking across the street from your porch to his, to wait for the school bus. You missed ditching school dances to drive to Coney Island without telling your parents. You missed movie nights, and cheating on homework, and spying on each others dates from across your favorite diner.

Life was easier back then, and no not just because you were young and dumb. There was plenty of sadness. Like on your senior trip to Canada, when your drink got spiked. Or when Joe nearly died of pneumonia. The time you got kicked off the volleyball team for covering up one of your teammate's terrible pranks. And the time Joe got punched in the face and needed stitches, when some new bully moved into town and found out your best friend was the "whiny prick" from Jurassic Park. But you were together for it all, and that's what you missed. It was the way you could tell Joe anything and the way you made him laugh that coated your memory in a golden sheen. He visited you in London once. And you flew home one Christmas not so long ago, and celebrated with his family across the street, like always. But you hadn't seen Joe since you moved to Wales, and your vision was going grey around the edges.

But Kris was all you could see, anyway. He was outlandishly handsome. He read all your favorite books. He held your hand on rollercoasters and taught you how to cook traditional Welsh food. He listened to you play the piano and encouraged you to go out and perform. That was the whole reason you traveled overseas. He would ask you to play your keyboard when he practiced his guitar and you spent the majority of your time in that corner of the room where you kept your instruments. But Kris wasn't getting enough gigs, so your night shift was becoming more demanding, and you stopped practicing. He started to drink. He said it was because he felt bad for the way you'd had to pick up shifts to support the pair of you. So he decided to prove his musical worth by going out every night, booking gigs far and wide. Kris played new bars every night, one's you'd never heard of till he told you on his way out of the door.

Then he stopped telling you when he'd be home. Tegan would come over to keep you company on weekends. Kris would miss birthdays and holidays. Tegan was always sleeping on your sofa via your invitation. You traded stories about your favorite things and your childhoods. You talked a lot about Joe, because he used to always be around. Tegan listened, and eventually started joining you on weekly facetime calls with Joe. He was glad to see you'd made such a valuable friend and to talk to Tegan like he knew her just as well. He was still the best friend you ever had thousands of miles away.

Tegan took you on a trip, one odd summer day, calling it a distraction. When you ended up in Dan yr Ogof, you knew you'd made a life long friend in Tegan. The lush green park was decorated with life-sized dinosaur statues and the cafe on grounds served dino shaped nuggets. When you sat down to eat you facetimed Joe, and took him on a digital tour of the dinosaurs scattered around the entrance. He was thrilled that you thought to call and show off the wonder you were surrounded by, and seemed so sad to hang up. You wished he could be there to spew made up dinosaur facts and pose for pictures. But you had Tegan. She was all smiles, holding your hand while you toured the caves and admired the nature all around you.

In the years you'd lived in Wales, you'd never heard of Dan yr Ogof, but were glad to have wound up there with your Tegan. It was like the best of both of your worlds. When strolled around the park and found a couple fake velociraptor bursting from falsely hatching eggs, you just stopped and stared for a moment. Tegan came around to look at her paper map of where to go next, and you wished for an option to go all the way back to freshman year. When Joe was embarrassed to tell you about the movies he'd been in, and how normal every day felt doing homework at his dinner table. You missed that normality. You wished it was normal to see him... to see anyone each and every day.

You tried to fix that by calling your mom every morning. You rambled for hours and even kept your phone turned on behind the bar during shifts. Tegan worked with you most days, but she had her own life. You even stopped hearing so much from your best friend, Joe. Texts would be responded to too late and voicemails only reminded you how far away you were. Messages from Joe were peppered between a few from Kris, who would call you drunk with promises he'd be home soon.

The day's your boyfriend did make it to your shared bed, you would just be getting home at sunrise from a shift. He would be gone when you woke up, out to another gig.

Then Kris skipped out for a whole month, and wouldn't answer any of your calls. You tearfully sold your keyboard for cash to keep groceries in your cabinet but practically lived behind the pub counter to make sure you'd never run out of money again. Tegan took you out to dinner and to films, but movies made you sad. They reminded you of Joe, who you'd see pop up on the television screen more than you heard from him directly, by then. Tegan would ask about him, knowing your old stories were like stars in the black ink darkness, but she learned to stop asking. Why wasn't anyone around anymore? Your family and friends remained frozen in photographs on social media, and you spent Christmas alone in your boyfriend's house.

When he came back home all you did was fight. He refused to tell you where he'd been, and you snapped his vintage mandolin in pieces in a brokenhearted rage. You slept in the same bed but stopped speaking to each other, just floating through the motions like ghosts- for weeks. And then he was gone again. I could just leave too, ya know? You realized. I could get up and be gone the next day. But where to?

You spent one long day on the phone with your mother, talking over what to do and how you felt and how much you missed Joe.

"He's in London now. Didn't you know that? Has been for a while." Your mother gently revealed. She would have known because his family lived right across the street. Because his parents loved your mother, and she still attended every cookout and birthday party even after you moved away. The Mazzello's were more than just your neighbors. Your mother was privy to everything Mrs. Mazzello told her on their weekend shopping trips and scheduled brunches.

"I didn't." You breathed heavily. Maybe you should have known. Maybe Joe had warned you in one of his voice mails you'd let pile up.

"He's filming there. You should call him, Y/N." Filming meant staying. Joe was five hours away from you, but you'd never felt further apart.

"Well, I might not be here much longer anyway." You reminded your mother.

Something in your gut was telling you to get out of Wales, that there was no point in your sticking around. But what about Tegan? You would wither into a humorless husk without her banter from the other end of the bar top. What about those dog-rose flowers you planted outside of your tiny little home? What if Kris stopped drinking and you could start listening to records together again? You built a life here. You made friends with the women at the market and the men at the bank. You didn't even care if Kris's mother hated you, because he hated her, and you each got a kick out of every passive-aggressive Christmas gift exchange. But you'd barely spoken to Kris since the last time he left, and the days before then, you'd only swapped venom.

You mopped around the flat, wondering if you should dust the shelves, and considered how to salvage your situation. Soon, you dozed off on the sofa as the sunset and wished you didn't have to make up your mind.

You were awoken to a house without any lights on, and a pounding at your door. There was a muffled voice crying outside and your heart speed to a million miles a minute as you hurried to your feet and rubbed your tired eyes. You flipped on a light and opened the front door to find Tegan in tears, black makeup streaking down her cheeks. She threw her arms around you and mumbled cries into your neck. You managed to pull her inside and shut the door for a bit of privacy amidst her break down.

"What is going on?" You demanded calmly, holding your friend by her shoulders and looking at her face.

"You wouldn't answer your phone, I've been trying the whole way here." She explained in a rush, sucking in a shaky breath. "The car... your car. I passed it on my way home. I only knew it was yours because the guitar-shaped the air freshener was still on the mirror."

"What?"

"I know it was your car. It's wrecked. It's..." Tegan stopped speaking to search your face. There was no time to wipe her black tears away before another one fell, she looked as if she'd seen a ghost.

"It's wrecked? You saw the guitar-shaped air freshener?" You confirmed.

"You weren't answering your phone," Tegan whispered gravely, as her lip quivered once more. Whatever she saw on the way to your place mustn't have been good at all. As you stood there watching Tegan's tears fall in silence, sirens started to whir in the distance.

Time froze to a halt as the noise grew louder and louder, piercing through your ears from just outside your window. Your heart was beating so fast you couldn't feel it until a few sharp knocks came at the door you stood next to. You didn't want to answer it. You didn't want to hear another word. But your instincts took over and you released your grip on Tegan, and opened the door.

A couple of stone-faced officers stood on your steps with no good news.

You came to find out that Kris played a gig that night, and the bar paid him in Guinness. Kris was well beyond the legal limit when he stumbled behind the wheel. Officials decided he must have swerved to avoid colliding with another vehicle and crashed through the rails of a bridge and onto the roadside below. Your boyfriend had been found without a beating heart, and yours nearly stopped at the news.

His mother blamed you for treating him so poorly, for running him off. Tegan only left your side for a couple of hours, while she went to collect a few things so she could stay over at your place. You planned a funeral and moved through the motions. But before you called your mother to tell her you were coming home, you called Joe. He didn't answer.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

#joe mazello x reader #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello

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islamicrays · 5 years ago

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I attended a dars (religious lesson) with the ethereal Ustadha Eiman at my mom's good friend/neighbor's house in SoCal today. The topic for discussion was "sabr" (patience). She talked about how Allah (swt) has guaranteed that we will ALL be tested -- either through our wealth or through our children or through our health or through fear. We are all going to experience tribulations at some point or the other, and the mu'min (believer) doesn't respond with "aaaah!" but with "la Ilaaha ilAllah" (there is no god but God) instead. The believer can feel grief/depression, but he/she doesn't complain about the Will of Allah and instead uses the trial as an opportunity to draw closer to his/her Lord. This way, even the tribulation becomes a means of benefit. She gave personal examples of feeling fear along with the eventual realizations that Allah (swt) was both the Bestower and the Remover of hardships and one had to find comfort in the Divine Decree instead of falling into the trap of constantly asking "why me?"

I looked around the living room at the circle of ladies -- my mother's friends -- many of whom I had known since I was a young girl in high school and college. On first sight, these were elegant and refined ladies, dressed in silk and diamonds with designer bags on their arms and luxury cars parked in the street. Most would think that these were the privileged few who had been spared any "real hardships" in life.

Yet, one after the other the women stepped forward, thanking Ustadha Eiman for her important reminders and wise advice, sharing their own very real experiences with grief and patience.

"Time is a healer -- time and Allah," one beloved auntie who lost her 2-yr-old son to a tragic drowning told my sister and me. "It's easy to only focus on the one great thing you lost and not see the countless blessings you have around you. You MUST be grateful; you HAVE to see all the blessings that still surround you even through all the pain."

Another lady overheard us talking and joined our little group. "The pain never ever goes away, does it? It only gets easier to bear, but it doesn't ever go away," she smiled at our auntie while squeezing her shoulders. Then she asked me, "Do you remember my son So-and-So?"

I blinked for a moment and then suddenly recognized the face of a young boy I taught in Sunday School (back in the early 90's) in her own sweet face. She told me that he died 18 yrs earlier at the age of 12.

"After his death, this life is like a mirage to me. Nothing is real. Nothing is permanent. What is the point of attaching your heart to anything so completely when that thing can be taken away at any moment?"

I squeezed her hand and couldn't trust myself to say anything.

She continued, "My son belonged to Allah, and Allah took him back. He was never 'MINE' to begin with. I bargained with Allah for a long time. I told Him He could burn down my house, cut off any of my limbs...but now I find patience and comfort knowing that I will be reunited with my son one day in a much better place. THIS place is just a mirage."

Another auntie began to weep and said, "I don't feel that I passed my test when I lost my child. I didn't show patience. I dressed myself, I ate food and drank water and talked and smiled and went on with life, but I went through a lot of depression. I asked, 'Why me?' I thought, 'If only...'"

"But you have your imaan (faith) in your heart," my sister told her. "You're still standing here as a believer. You HAVE passed the test."

"Not getting depressed, not feeling sad, not bargaining, not playing the 'what if?' game -- THOSE aren't signs of passing the test," I told her. "Not lashing out at God, not being angry with Him -- THOSE are the true signs that you have been patient."

"All I have is my faith," she said through tears. "If I didn't have my spirituality, I don't know how I would have gotten through the years. Only Allah can get you through a grief as great as this. This life is a test. It is nothing but a test."

I watched another auntie on the other side of the room as she smiled and hugged her friends. She lost her father at a young age, then her brother when he was a teenager, and -- only a month ago -- she lost her 30-yr-old son without any warning. If you looked at her, you would never guess the heartache her fragile frame concealed -- not just over the past month but over the past few decades.

Then I spotted my mother's best friend who is busy day and night taking care of (and praying for) her loving husband who has been diagnosed with terminal cancer. Her back was straight and her smile was tired (but sincere as always) as she warmly greeted the community members who surrounded her.

I approached an auntie whom I had never met before as she sat on the sofa and picked at her lunch. All I knew about her was that she had buried her 23-yr-old daughter only 3 days earlier. I knelt in front of her and introduced myself and gave her my condolences and prayers. She smiled and listened to me and then -- holding my hands -- said simply and succinctly: "God...is...Great."

These women carry battle scars no one ever wants to earn. They are our teachers and our examples. We have so much to learn from their embodiment of the deen (religion).

One of them said to my friends and me, "You young people are so much better than us. You are learning and practicing so much at such a young age. We didn't know anything when we were your age."

I tried to control the tears from springing to my eyes as I felt my face flush with shame. "All we know is theory," I told her. "You are the ones putting what we are learning into ACTUAL practice. None of us knows how we'll react to a real test. You are our teachers who have earned wisdom the hard way, at a great price. Wisdom doesn't come easy."

She grabbed my hands and said, "You know, I always say that no one can understand what we have been through unless they actually experience it. But my foremost prayer is that NO ONE ever has to experience this kind of pain in their lives. May Allah (swt) protect you all AND your children."

Aameen.

I am posting this as a reminder first to myself and then to others -- we have NO IDEA how people are being (or have been) tested and tried. EVERY single person is experiencing some kind of pain -- if not today, then tomorrow (may Allah make it easy). We must treat each other with mercy and compassion and love even if we don't know each other's stories. Today was a real eye-opener for me.

Hina khan-Mukhtar

#muslimah #ummah #inspiration #allah #islam #pain

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tiktoks-we-like · 5 years ago

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Omg do you have any more ghost stories??

I’ve told all the significant ones that occurred in this house except 1 other (but I felt that it could be brushed off as something else so it's eh), but I can tell some from my childhood home/neighborhood!

Okay so the last story in this home took place few years ago at around 11pm or so me and my parents just finished watching a movie and my parents had gotten up and went into another room. I was just chilling on my phone with the dogs when suddenly I heard this horribly loud sound of metal scratching from outside. It sounded very much like our shed door opening, the doors on the shed opened by rolling them to one side, kinda poor design but like eh n they were all rusted so you had to put some strength into it and it made a lot of noise. I told my parents and like white people in a horror movie we all went outside to see who was getting into the shed, but when we got out there it was empty, no one to be seen, the doors didn't even look like they had been touched. It could've honestly been someone trespassing on our property, but it's still very unusual considering we live ou in the middle of nowhere.

That shed has always creeped me the fuck out though, I can’t stand in there without feeling like I’m being watched by something. The shed it split into since one half used to be a chicken coop (old owners had chickens) and the side that used to be for the chickens just...feels the worse to me, I can’t stand in there long without feeling very anxious and when I'm on the other side it feels like someone or something is over there watching me.

Then to my childhood home back in lansing, it wasn’t a very old house just built in the 1900s sometime and was owned by my great-grandma and we moved in after she passed away n I wasn’t born yet. Usually, only little things would happen here like the sound of footsteps down the hall or on the basement steps or the kitchen sink would turn itself on at night.

My most memorable occurrence was when I woke up late at night(prob around 1-3am area) to the sound of something falling in the basement. At first I brushed it off as my grandmas cat knocking a box over then I heard it again so I got out of bed and went to investigate. I went down to the basement and boxes literally were just..falling randomly around the basement. Theres no way the cat was bouncing across the room within seconds to knock a box over so?? I ran upstairs so dang fast and hid under my sheets.

This one took place a few years before we moved so I was about 11ish, I’m pretty sure I was staying up late on my gameboy or ds when I wasn’t supposed to but when I decided to finally go to sleep and dozed off a bit I suddenly woke up to the feeling of being watched. Up at the top corner of me and my sister's bedroom window there was something like look like a person's head with glowing eyes just...looking into the room at me. I just stared at it until I had to blink and when I did it was gone, I literally didn’t sleep until the sun came up. I don’t know if it was like a hallucination or sleep paralysis but it scared me enough that I started being afraid to sleep at night and would stay up until the sun came up until school started back up and I had no choice but to sleep earlier.

Most of the super werid paranormal esq stuff didn’t happen in my childhood home, but my best friends home right next door. In his house they just had an empty room, no one used it, literally the only thing inside it was a bed frame sitting on its side and like 2 small storage boxes. Every once and awhile his dog would just stand outside the room and growl and bark then run away nervously, she didn the same thing in other parts of the room like in the living room corner or at the TV well it was off.

We were super into ghost hunting shows like all thru 7-10ish so one time we decided to have a paranormal investigation in that room where we just sat in there in the dark with his dog and asked the ghost questions. Of course, we got no response but after a few questions, his dog started to get really riled up and upset which started to freak us out so we went to leave, but the door just wouldn’t open. We were banging on that door so hard until it finally decided to open and never went in the room again. Every so often the door would just open itself well we were playing in his room which was the next room over.

His bedroom was kinda equally as unsettling though, we were playing hide and seek with me, him, and my sister. I think I was looking when suddenly I heard yelling from his bedroom. He was hiding in the closet when he felt something grab him and when he tried to leave the closet the door wouldn't open. I opened the door easily from my side which made him think I was holding the door open, but when it happened I was way down the hall in the living room, but he still doesn’t believe me to this day lmao.

One of the days I was sleeping over at his house n we were both home alone since he dad left to the store. When he dad left things started getting really weird, his dog was just freaking out over was seemed like nothing just barking and growling then hiding nervously, then the Tv turned itself on and was just static and we tried everything to get it to stop even tried turning it off, but nothing worked on it. Then that stupid door down the hall opened up all the way, I think at that point we just ran outside and sat on the porch until his dad came home. When his dad got home and we went back in everything was normal, the tv was off and the door was closed.

Lastly, this isn’t really a ghost story, but its still creepy as fuck. When I was 12 the other parents on the street just decided it was okay for me to watch their kids, like they were my friends but uh trusting a 12 yr old to take your kids to the park n the rite aid down the road was a bad decision. Since I was the oldest and in charge me I’d take my friends to the park, but instead of going to the park we started exploring the area further back. This park was actually just the elementary school playground but it had a big field in the bad and at the end of the field there was a fence, behind the fence was a hill n up it was a road, but if you just walked around the fence you’d end up behind the property of the building besides the school which had lovely signs saying “trespassers will be shot on sight” and if you kept walking you’d reach train tracks. So I’d take my friends to the train tracks and we’d walk down them until we reached these old train boxcars that were just sitting abandoned besides the track, this area had tons of small sinkholes so it def wasn’t safe(besides being by active train tracks), but we’d open the trains up and play inside them. On one side of the tracks though there was a forest and a fence around it.

Me and my friends were gonna make a clubhouse in one of the trains, but one of the final trips we made to the tracks there were people on the other side of the fence in the forest looking at us, they were further back so they weren’t noticeable at first. I don’t know why they were there, how they even got there, or why they were looking at us, but we booked it back to the park when we saw em. After that we only visited a few more times, but we didn’t stay for long because the area just felt unsettling and after seeing those people we were worried we were being watched constantly.

#ghost stories #long post #non tiktok #Anonymous

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