#actually. question for the class. which march sister do you guys think i am?

[livvyofthelake]

tiktok quiz just told me i’m beth march 🙄 girl can you be fucking serious

[wreckofawriter]

Heartbeat Part 2

(Final Part) <Part 1>

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count: 3,580

Warnings: Angsty at the beginning, umm mentions of suicide and depression, swearing

Summary: An idea given to me by @mcluuvin666 Thank you so much! Reader moves on from Sirius and he realizes he made a mistake

A/n: This took me forever to write, I hope you guys like it!

You used to tell yourself you didn’t cry, that it was weak. But that was never true. The truth was you had cried far more in your life than you would ever admit. You had cried when your parents yelled at you or when your father hit you or your mother cursed you. You had cried when you fell from the tree in your backyard and when you slipped off your bike when you were nine. You had cried when you failed your first exam in the second year and recently you cried for no reason at all other than you simply needed to. You never let anyone see it but you cried a lot. But you had never cried like this before

You lay in that classroom for what could have been an hour or could have been a year. Loud sobs clawing from your throat like a feral beast that had finally been released. You felt your head pound as you pressed your forehead to the floor. After some amount of time had passed your throat no longer allowed any sound but whimpers from you. You could still feel tears slide down your face dripping off your nose and pooling on its curves. Your face felt hot, too hot like it was boiling, flesh burning. 

Your mouth tasted bitter. You felt so frail. So incredibly weak. When you finally managed to get to your feet it was dark out, the moon nearly full, stars so bright they seemed only inches away. 

You made it outside easily, no one was around to stop you if there was you doubt they would have succeeded. You stepped out onto the dewy grass where you once lay with Sirius. Where he had kissed you, where you had said you loved him and where he hadn't responded. 

You should have felt stupid, so fucking stupid, but you didn’t. You didn't feel anything, anger, misery, hatred, despair and so many other bottles of feelings had been released. And now they were gone. And you felt numb. Your heart had slowed to its normal pace as you continued across the grass appearing silver in the moonlight. 

You walked until your feet met with wood, you traveled out to the dock, the sound of crickets and small frogs filling you. 

You stopped at the end of the dock. You contemplated taking another step, letting your body become a part of the darkness before you. 

And then you did. 

Your body hit the water and you were plunged into a cold you had never felt before. Your robes soaked instantly and you began to sink. You slowly parted your eyelids, you looked upwards at the celestial being above you quivering under the lense of wetness. You could see the moon, but your eyes didn't stay on the small planet for long. They traveled to the brightest star in the sky. Sirius. It blinked back at you slowly moving further and further away as your lungs began to burn. Your hair began to float in front of your face, your robes reaching towards the light as you were dragged backward by an unseeable force. 

Then your eyes slipped shut and the fire inside you built, the burn strengthening. You could still see the bright star in your eyelids. 

You felt the numbness suddenly disappear and for the first time in your entire life you were alone and you actually felt alive. 

Your feet began to kick, black dress shoes moving in a flutter. You pushed yourself upwards, arms pumping as your eyes popped back open, your chest burnt, you would make it you knew you would, because you were still alive, and you would stay that way. 

When you broke the surface of the water you immediately drew in a harsh breath forcing water further down your lungs as you began to cough. You managed to the shore collapsing in a heap of coughs. Until your lungs cleared and you were finally allowed to breathe normally again. 

You're sitting staring out at the lake, ripples lingering from your plunge. The moon and stars reflected back at you making you feel as if you were trapped between two godly works of art and you could only stare, your heart thumped loudly you felt amazing, amused, and absolutely alive. Because you were alive. And you weren't about to let so asshole with mommy issues change that. 

You felt a smile creep onto your lips as you stood. Your robes weighed what must have been thousands of pounds but you didn't care. You let out a light bubble of laughter chin tilting upwards as you breathed in deeply the scent of midnight dew and pond water filling you as your hair clung to your face. You extended your arms, spreading them like an eagle.

"I'm alive." You whispered up in the sky. And you were. 

You awoke the next morning feeling as if you had dropped 50 pounds. Standing wasn't a struggle, your eyelids didn't drag downward, your heartbeat was lively and awake. You simply felt good. 

When you arrived in the great hall for breakfast you were met with quite a few surprised faces. You could see Sirius staring at you from his corner of toxic masculinity. The surprise in his eyes made rage cycle through you. You were tempted to run and scream at him, but you didn’t. You took a deep breath reminding yourself that was exactly what he wanted and you refused to give in to his wants ever again. You ate breakfast while reading one of your favorite books you had dug out of your trunk that morning. Everything seemed so much easier after last night. 

You surprised just about everyone in your herbology class by being quite kind to the Hufflepuff who sat next to you. You had even asked for some help baffling the light-haired girl. During Transfiguration, you had made a point to apologize to McGonagall for missing that morning’s detention. Her eyes had gone wide and she had looked a bit pale, asking if you were alright which you assured her you were. 

On your way to lunch, you did something absolutely unliveable. A young Gryffindor had been cornered in a remote hallway you used as a shortcut. You had come across five second-year girls who were teasing the poor girl, snickers leaving their mouth. You had debated continuing walking but you let out a sharp sigh and took a few steps towards the girls grabbing the two who were currently taking charge by their hair. 

They had shrieked as you yanked them backward. Once they had turned and met your face the color had drained from their own. A sweet smile graced your lips. You asked them if they knew who you were. Both nodded quickly. 

“Good.” You continued to grin, “Then you should know I don’t bluff. Now I will ask you once. Leave this girl alone or next time I will rip the hair from your head.” 

They had scattered after you released them, their friends already long gone. You walked towards the girl on the ground. She had on large horn-rimmed glasses which magnified her sky blue eyes. Her teeth held bright pink banded braces, her hair a dirty blonde. 

“Let me guess, you’re a mud- muggleborn.” You said catching yourself quickly. 

She nodded slowly, she looked terrified.

You laughed a bit and she jumped. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m a changed woman, plus muggles write the best books.” You winked. “I’m y/n y/l/n.” You extended a hand. 

“Rebecca Lastings.” She responded quietly, taking your offer as you helped pull her to her feet. 

“Well, I’m starving. You wanna get lunch?” You asked as you helped gather her scattered books. 

She smiled a bit, “Yeah sure.” 

Lunch was... interesting. Turned out that Rebecca had an older sister named Laney Lastings - in your opinion a very catchy name - and when she saw her sister eating lunch with one of the most infamous Slytherins she was reasonably concerned. 

When the Ravenclaw had marched up to you as you were shoveling chicken salad into your mouth you had once again done the shocking thing. You smiled and greeted the girl. 

“What are you doing with my little sister.” She had hissed cutting you short. 

You shrugged, “Eating.” 

The blonde scoffed, “Becc lets go.” she snatched her sister’s arm but to her surprise Rebecca resisted. 

“But she was just telling me about a book she read.” The younger girl spoke softly. By the look on the older’s face, you guessed she didn’t defy orders often. “It sounded very interesting.” 

Laney looked up at you. You just shrugged. “What is going on?” she looked a bit shook up. 

“Look I know what you think of me, hell what every single person in this room thinks of me but I’m a changed woman.” You explained, “I am honestly just talking to your sister, I have no intention of hurting her in any way shape or form.” 

Laney’s eyes narrowed but Rebecca sat back down and took a bite of her peanut butter sandwich. “Come on y/l/n people don’t just change overnight.” 

You shrugged again, “I did. Feel free to join us.” You motioned to the seat next to Laney’s sister and to your surprise she took it. And for the first time in your entire life, you had made actual friends. 

You dreaded detention the next morning but to your surprise, it was rather pleasant. When you entered the large room it was already sanctioned into two groups. One contained three boys sitting in neighboring desks while the second held one dark-haired boy at the back of the room glaring at the former group. 

You raised an eyebrow in confusion and sat a few desks away from both crowds. You then began to sort the paperwork you were told to, taking a walkman out and clipping in a favored artist. 

About halfway through the hour, you were drawn from your work when a figure appeared before you. You looked up to see a pair of hazel eyes and curly hair hidden under a navy beanie. You removed your headphones letting them rest around your neck giving him a questioning look. 

“Hey.” He managed, looking a bit unsure of himself.

“Hey?” You responded, glancing at the group he had left meeting to pair of eyes which quickly darted away.

“So umm, I know it's not really my place to say but I’m sorry,” Remus spoke, biting his lip. 

“Why are you sorry?” You asked, still visibly confused. 

He lowered his voice, “What Sirius did was really fucked up.” Suddenly the sanctions made sense, “And I just thought I would let you know that I’m sorry on his behalf.” 

You let out a small laugh, “Please don’t Remus, you clean up enough of that boy's messes already, don’t put this on yourself. But thanks anyway.” You shrugged going to put back on your headphones. 

“Laney told me about what you did for her little sister.” He spoke in a rush. 

You stopped, “And?” 

“She has been trying to get those girls to leave Becc alone for like three months, she started skipping classes and meals to avoid them, it was bad. But you stopped them with one conversation. That was really nice of you y/n.” Remus stated. 

“It was whatever.” You answered with a shrug. 

“It really wasn’t,” He protested, “But look we both wanted to ask you if you wanted to come to our study session tomorrow night. We get together three times a week, it’s me Laney and a few others, they’re all pretty chill and it would be great  if you could come.” 

A smile found your face, “Really?” 

“Yeah, we meet in the library after dinner.” He was playing with his fingers now. 

“Okay, sure. That sounds awesome.” You said. 

“Great.” He grinned bouncing on the balls of his feet before turning and leaving. 

“Hey, Remus.” You called just before he made it back to his seat. He whipped his head to look at you. “Thanks.” 

In all honesty, being nice was completely exhausting, actually caring what others thought of you took its toll, especially after the well-crafted reputation you had built for yourself. You had also started paying attention in classes for the first time in a long time so you had mountains of homework and suddenly understood your peer’s desperation for good grades. You tried to convince yourself that a study group was a brilliant idea but your worries ate away at you. 

What happened when most of the group hated you? Would they cuss you out? What if they refused you despite Remus’s invitation? There was so much room for failure. Godric making friends was difficult. 

You busied yourself with the nightly homework in the common room, you had gotten used to the strange looks you received. A whistle drew yourself from your herbology sketch. 

“Wow y/l/n, I did not expect you to turn into a loser when you found out.” 

You rolled your eyes at the familiar voice, “Avery.” You drawled.

“What has gotten into you?” He asked, taking a seat next to you, “First you help out a mudblood, then you go and make friends with her filthy sister and now you're doing Herbology homework?” 

You glared at the boy, “Don’t call them that.” 

He only smirked back, “I must say you look much prettier without the bags beneath your eyes and a little effort put in.” 

“Go fuck yourself.” You spat resisting the urge to strangle him. 

“There’s the y/n I know.” He smiled triumphantly, “But where has she been? People don’t change overnight.” 

“Well, I did douchebag.” You hissed. 

“No you didn't.” he sneered, “You're still the same stone-cold bitch, you’re just hiding it and let me tell you, I can’t wait for that mask to break.” 

Your hand tightened around your quill, “Shut up.” 

“I’ll be there to catch you when you fall y/l/n. I’m glad you’re wearing skirts again, you look hot.” He taunted his face so close to your own you could smell his cologne. 

You were about to slap him but before you could a voice resonated through the air, “Avery back off her.” 

You both looked up and you met the gaze of a Slytherin you swear you had never seen before. He had dark hair and darker eyes, his face was sharply cut, lips looking far too rounded on his visage. 

“What do you have on it Dapperton?” Avery asked leaning away from you. 

“Just back off.” His tone was harsh, a thick Scottish accent in his voice. 

“Whatever.” Avery scoffed standing and shooting you one last glance before leaving the room. 

“You okay?” The boy you now knew as Dapperton asked.

“Yeah, fine.” You managed. 

“Cool, listen I was wondering if you could help me with my Arithmetic, I’ve heard you are pretty good at it.” He said. 

“Sure. I’m y/-” 

“I know who you are.’” He laughed, “I’m Lewis. Lewis Dapperton.” 

“Okay, nice to meet you, Lewis.” 

You had made three official friends. 

You tried not to let Avery’s words bother you as the days passed. But it was hard. The study group had been a bit awkward but not all that bad, Lewis was actually a member much to your surprise. Nights became difficult again. The idea that maybe this was just a passing phase and that it was simply a few good days got to you. I mean people didn’t just change overnight. 

But I did. You screamed at yourself. I swear I did.

It all came crashing into a dreadful climax two weeks after night it all started. 

It had been two weeks of confusion that morphed to anger and soon into sadness and jealousy for Sirius Black. When he had seen you in the great hall the night after you had found out about the thirty points he had almost shit his pants. You were up? And you were smiling?! He was sure you were going to come over and rip his throat out at breakfast. But you didn’t You just sat at your isolated seat at the end of the Slytherin table and read, looking surprisingly relaxed. 

You had left a bit early and Remus had dumped his pumpkin juice on him saying he was a complete objectifying asshole and part of the reason why women were not viewed equal to men. Leave it to the feminist to ruin a perfectly normal bet. He had made the mistake of saying that out loud and caused an uproar at the Gryffindor table. 

He had seen you working in the few shared classes you had and had been quite surprised. How was it you were having a better day than him? He supposed karma bit harshly. When you saw you at lunch sitting with a young Gryffindor girl he had once again been completely boggled. And soon you were joined by a Ravenclaw as well. What universe was he in? 

That night he had gotten into another heated argument with his best friends. One that ended in him sleeping in the common room, locked away from his bed. 

He had dreamt of you. That night when you had stargazed. When you had kissed him. When you had told him you loved him. He dreamt of your lips on his, hands in his hair, the dew seeping through his robes and the chirp of crickets. 

The next morning sucked. He sat alone during detention forced to watch as you happily hummed along to your music. Your hair was pulled back and it looked surprisingly nice. You were also wearing a skirt. When did you get so pretty? Remus talked to you and mentioned him. Sirius bit his tongue not wanting to cause a scene. Plus the glare James was giving him hurt on another level. 

The week got worse and worse. Suddenly you had friends and had started hanging out with a far too handsome Slytherin. You also choose that week to look ridiculously gorgeous and suddenly his thoughts were full of you. He found himself missing your scent and the texture of your hair. The sound of your laughter was a drug he had been deprived of. 

His dreams of you got worse. He dreamt that he had told you he loved you when you asked. He dreamed he hadn’t left you alone. He dreamed of laughing in detention with you, making out in broom closets, going to quidditch matches together, sleeping with you. 

He woke each day more aggravated than the last. Why the fuck was he the one suffering? It wasn’t fair. Well, he supposed it was. Finally, he gathered his remailing pride and tossed it out a window before cornering you on the way back from herbology. 

“Y/n please just give me a minute.” He begged as you began to walk away. 

“Sirius I have wasted far too many of my minutes on you.” You spat glaring past the boy.

“Please.” He pleaded.

You sighed tapping your foot angrily, “You’ve got one minute.”

It was then Sirius realized he had absolutely no plan, “What’s up with you?” 

“What?” You glowered refusing to meet his eye.

“I mean you’re all nice and shit and you’re actually hanging out with people. It’s weird.” He explained.

“So, me being nice is weird?” You clarified. 

“Yeah! People don’t change overnight!” He rationalized. 

“So I’ve been told.” You murmured, “Look if this is all just about me being nice then please save me time and leave me alone.” 

Sirius groaned, “It’s not just that! How are you so, so I don’t know okay?”

You finally looked him in the eyes and he really wished you hadn’t. Your eyes were dark with anger, narrowed to slits, reminding him of a snake. “You wanna know why I’m so okay?” You asked and suddenly he didn’t. “Because I was really really not fucking okay.” 

Sirius was visibly confused, “What?” 

“I almost drowned myself that night Sirius.” You hissed. 

His heart stopped. “What.” 

“Yeah.” You snarled, “I walked straight off that dock, shoes and all, and I let myself sink halfway to the bottom before I decided I wanted to live.” You spoke gesturing towards the lake.

Sirius wanted the earth to swallow him whole. You wouldn’t have opposed. 

“And when finally reached the shore I had an epiphany.” You spoke with false glamor. “I suddenly realized I wasn’t going to let cock suckers like you and my parents decided anything about me and the way I live my life.” 

Sirius wanted to break into tears. He started at you. The face he had been dreaming of for weeks meer meters from him and suddenly realized how desperately in love with you he was. 

“So guess what, I changed overnight because I would have died if I didn’t.” You spat before brushing past him without another word. Sirius grabbed your wrist as you passed.

You turned glaring at him. 

“I think I’m in love with you.” He spoke his voice breaking halfway through the sentence. 

“You know I can’t answer that.” You scoffed snatching your wrist from his hold and turning to leave. 

Sirius watched as you left so full of regret he couldn’t think of anything but what-ifs. When you were out of sight he sat on the ground and began to cry. 

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[rae-is-typing]

Chemistry

Request from @nerdy-collector-festival: Hiooo, can I request a Tom Holland X teen!reader (maybe 16/17 years old) and she is playing his little sister in a new movie and they do an interview together about how they were able to get the brother/sister chemistry

Description: You and Tom do an interview on your new movie together. 

Characters: reader, Tom Holland, an unnamed interviewer

Warnings: mild swearing, bad writing

Word count: 1.1k

“We’re here with Tom Holland and Y/N Y/L/N to discuss their upcoming film: The Biggest Sacrifice. Y/N, Tom, how are the two of you feeling?”

“Good, thank you.” You smile sweetly for the camera. 

“I’m very well, thank you darling.” 

“Tonight, I really want to discuss the relationship the two of you have had to build for this film. How did you start to really build this amazing chemistry we’ve seen thus far?”

“Well, we really just started by talking. Tom is really open and easy going, so it wasn’t hard to get really comfortable with him.” You start, giving Tom a chance to jump in.

“We actually had to move in together for a few weeks before filming. I think that was the real booster for the chemistry we already had.” Tom explains. “It was really weird living with a girl that’s not related to me, but we made it work.”

The interviewer nods. “How long did it take for you to get to where we see you in the movie?”

“It didn’t take us long at all. Our chemistry is the same in real life as it is on screen, which helped. I think that we are really compatible people.”

“Yeah. It really didn’t take as long as I thought it was going to.” You say, expressing your surprise. “We were where our director wanted us to be at the beginning of filming at least a month before filming even started.”

“You both have siblings. How does the relationship in the movie differ from the relationships you have in real life?”

“Well, she’s a girl,” Tom says.

“Great observation, Tom. I am, in fact, a female.” You turn to him, giving him a shit-eating grin. He rolls his eyes, pushing your arm playfully.

You playfully nudge him back as he begins speaking. “All of my little siblings are boys, I’ve only had little brothers, so I’ve never been able to be the stereotypical protective older brother to a kid sister before. It was a lot of fun, but there was definitely a learning curve that I was jsut not expecting. At first I was like ‘I got this, how hard can having a sister be?’ Well, it turned out to be very daunting, but I did learn how to braid hair.”

“Tom is great at french braids, ten out of ten, would recommend,” You laugh. “My older brother is like twelve years older than me, and he moved out when I was four, so I never really got to know him. Um actually getting to know him and see him as a real human instead just a face in pictures and a name in stories is great,”

“I suspect there are going to be a lot of heavy scenes in this film, which leads me to our next question. What was your least favorite part of filming this movie?”

“There are a lot of really heavy themes in this movie, and there is a lot of crying,” You stress. “I think I cried every day for a month filming this movie, and I’m not a crier, I don’t cry very often, that was very taxing.” 

“Seeing Y/N cry each day was hard, especially because she always had to tap out afterwards.” You nod along with what Tom is saying. “But for me, the hardest part was probably the fact that Y/N just cannot be serious. There were times when we were filming very serious scenes, and she would make a little comment or quip that would throw everything off.” 

You do your best to suppress your smirk as Tom continued. “Look at her! She knows it.” You and Tom start to laugh.

The interviewer smiles. “How about your favorite parts?”

“I love how real this film felt.” Tom begins. “I’ve been in pretty fantastical things in my recent career. Spider-Man especially is a very mystical story with some real world elements. However, what we see in The Biggest Sacrifice is stuff that happens to real people, and it is inspired by a true story. Everything in it left me feeling very raw and vulnerable, but it was an incredible experience that I would never change.” 

“I adore the cast and the crew. Everyone was so close, we all knew each other by name. I’m pretty sure the makeup artist for the film is my platonic soulmate, she is incredible and one of my favorite people alive.” You say, putting a hand on your heart for effect.

“What was your most memorable moment on set?” 

“Tom dropped me.” You deadpan with a straight face. 

“What?” The interviewer asks, grin growing as Tom jumps to defend himself. 

“It was an accident! You didn’t even fall that far anyways…”

“My trust was hurt, Tom. I’m never letting you give me a piggyback ride again.” You say, refusing Tom the eye contact he wanted.

“Great! I don’t think my back could take it.” You gasp, slapping his arm as the interviewer moves on.

“Y/N, you were still enrolled in high school for the duration of filming, correct?” “That is correct, yes.”

“Did Tom ever help you with homework?”

“Oh, my god.” You start, already laughing. “One week, I was doing the semester project for my chemistry class. I was making cookies with different fats, and he barged in while I was making the dough and demanded I let him help.”

“I did not demand anything!” 

“You absolutely did, Tom. Anyways, he managed to not only get flour everywhere, spill melted coconut oil everywhere, and eat butter, he set a batch of cookies on fire. We had to evacuate the set for twenty minutes.”

The interviewer gawks at the story. “That is just a hilarious story. I have one final question for the two of you, what was your favorite thing to do together?”

“Insulting each other.” You answer immediately. 

The interviewer laughs. “Really?”

“I don’t think I worded that very well,” You say, facepalming. “I mean like, we had a lot of scenes where we have petty little fights. So, like two hours before shooting that scene, we’d just start insulting each other over every little thing. It was so fun to just be as nasty and petty as possible and not feel bad about it.”

“Having Y/N explain something is the best thing ever. She’ll use the most technical and complicated words combined with layman’s terms and swear words, but it makes perfect sense.” “I learned that in public school,” You laugh. “The only words my class understands are swear words,”

Everyone laughs as the interview is wrapped up. “That’s all, thank you guys very much. The Biggest Sacrifice will be in a theater near you on March eighth,”

[promethes]

dumping the horrendous unconventional short story I wrote for my midterm under the cut to get it off my mind bc I do not like it.

ENTRY 1

I think I will make my life’s motif a bird. It shouldn’t be too hard. They’re everywhere and pop out at the most opportune moments. I’ll find a way to tie them in.

ENTRY 2

Stood in line for way too long at the cafe. Can you believe the girl in front of me didn’t even look up to plan her order until she was physically at the front of the line? I knew what I wanted to order before I even stepped foot into the place. They need to change that. I’m on the lookout for some kind of online suggestion box to submit to since they decided to forgo an in-house one for some God forsaken reason. There’s not a lick of common sense in anyone these days. Saw a robin on my way out and flicked it a sesame seed from my bagel.

ENTRY 3

Would you listen to this garbage? They’re planning on tearing down my favorite bowling alley. “Didn’t pass inspection” my ass. It’s an important cultural landmark of our city and I’m marching down to the mayor to set him straight. I can’t stage important life moments around the cardinal themed bowling alley if there is no bowling alley to have a cardinal theme!

ENTRY 4

Mom’s in the hospital. Driving over now, she said it has something to do with her cholesterol. It either spiked or dropped real low, but I can’t be sure. Either way, she’s in the hospital. I don’t know why she chose the one that’s so far away though. The vending machines in the other one have way better stock.

ENTRY 5

Forgot to say. I didn’t run over any birds on the way there.

ENTRY 6

I don’t think I’m spiraling yet but I’m close to it. Mom’s fine, she’s just staying overnight in case anything acts up again. I, on the other hand, am NOT. Car won’t start and I’ve been sitting here in the parking lot for almost four hours now. Embarrassed beyond belief. A weird old man with a huge shiny truck offered to help and he’s been good on his word lending me his car to jump-start mine, but his bumper stickers make me nervous. His truck has custom lettering too. I’m a big guy, so not too worried, but a little concerned. 

Anyway, it didn’t work and I’m calling a tow truck now. I tried to thank the guy and offered to buy him coffee, but he just said “No way, Jose” which was weird. He smacked the top of my car before he left and said I need to “dress this little lady up.” Maybe I’ll get a sparrow bumper sticker online. Everything’s online these days.

ENTRY 7

Starting to rethink the bird motif thing. Not much goes on in my life anyway, and there’s only so much material I can get out of waking up early to chirping. Maybe I should aim lower. I could choose a color instead. Red would be a cop-out, it’s too obvious. Blood! I need something that’s at least a little challenging. We’ll see. I’ll sleep on it.

ENTRY 8

GREAT NEWS! Sister got a BIRD. A real-life living breathing chirping flying bird. It’s a sign and I’m not going to ignore it. My life’s motif is a bird and it’s not going to be one of those unbearably hidden motifs from English class required readings either.

(Although I did like some of them. That spoon in Middlesex…… I want my bird to be his spoon. To take up space in an almost eerie way. I’ll find a way to make it work.)

ENTRY 9

Laying the groundwork. These things don’t come easy, so I’m sowing the seeds (birds do that, right?) Told everyone at work that my great great great grandfather’s name was Starling. Drilled up a lot of curious questions and I even got to know some of the people I always just miss talking to. They were all VERY interested. Tomorrow I’ll bring in a picture of an actual starling. I don’t think Andrew quite knows that it’s a kind of bird.

ENTRY 10

Don’t remember the name my sister chose and I couldn’t remember if I tried even if I squeezed my eyes shut before blinking really fast like I usually do because this bird (Polly I’m going to call it Polly because an annoying bird deserves an annoying name) is so incessantly annoyingly unbearably loud. I can’t believe this thing is my sign.

My sign is chirping me into the basement and into a frenzy. At least I have my old sleeping bag handy until I can figure out how to shut it up. Why must my motif be so unbearably annoying?

ENTRY 11

Update on the car: starter wires snapped. Haven’t seen any birds around lately (except for a crow but I hate crows and I won’t be counting them) so I was hopeful and asked the mechanic if there’s any chance a bird could’ve pecked at the wires until they got so worn down that they snapped in the hospital parking lot.

He looked at me like I was crazy. I know that was what the look meant because he said, “Are you f****ing crazy man? The wires are deep in your car under the hood.” (I’m censoring the language. I don’t want language taking away from my story. If this is to be read in a future child’s English class to teach a lesson about motifs, I can’t be including foul language.)

I’m not f***ing crazy but I am extremely ticked off. Does he not realize how little birds come out in the cold weather? I need whatever I can get.

I’ll just tell people a bird got stuck under the hood of my car. I’ll change this entry later. Mechanic man doesn’t deserve a spot in a child’s English class; he didn’t even have the decency to watch his language for them.

ENTRY 12

People at work are finally starting to catch on! Got called “bird guy” by Kathleen (Catherine? Kristy? Whatever.) when she saw my shirt. I knew it’d be a good move when I saw it on sale at Walmart. I’m thinking of making the cover of my book Hawaiian print, but I’ll tell my future publisher I’m not married to the idea. Can’t be too picky on my first book! I’ll leave that for the second.

ENTRY 13

I will enjoy my day today I will enjoy my day today I will enjoy my day. Sister needs to get control of Polly. I’ve moved down my whole mattress now. I will enjoy my day I will enjoy my day I will enjoy 

ENTRY 14

Can’t believe I overlooked eagles and hawks. Of course sparrows and starlings weren’t doing the trick! Classic oversight, focusing too much on the mundane. I won’t be making that mistake. I blame it all on that incessant chirping. Mom says it’s not too bad but I’m fairly certain that cholesterol has gotten to her ears. She must be going deaf. She’s lucky she’s ill or else I’d be very extremely sore at her for making that face at me. I know it’s a bad face because it’s the same face that f***ing mechanic made and I don’t think he’s ever made a good face in his life so if my mom made that same face then I really don’t like that. She gets a pass for the cholesterol. 

ENTRY 15

I feel amazing. Bought an eagle bumper sticker at a roadside gas station and after a few strategic snips, it’ll be ready to go on the car. I’m dressing this little lady up! The red, white, and blue has got to go first though. Decided a while ago not to let colors mess with my motif, and I’m not going to slip up on that again! Snip snip.

I’m considering this a debt paid. Dressed the little lady up. Two birds, one stone! I’m making that my new catchphrase.

ENTRY 16

Should I make this a love story? I’m thinking about making it a romance. Doves are right there, really just waiting for me to weave them in. On the other hand, I don’t think that’d work to create much of a conducive learning environment for the kids. I think I’ll stick to a Mark Twain type story instead. 

Reread the beginning and don’t think it’s working. I’ll be cutting all that out. I spoke too much about mom’s cholesterol. Too many side characters and not enough focus. Where was I going with this again? 

ENTRY 17

Writer’s block. It’s ok, I still had that major breakthrough with the hawk/eagle thought. Put in my two weeks to dedicate all my time. I’ve found a bird-watching site that I hope will bring me more peace than f***ing Polly.

ENTRY 18

These birds are really working to stay in my New York Times best-selling children’s novel. Knew this would be a challenge, but they really do never stop conversing. If only they could read, I’d write them a best-selling manual on the best ways to speak inwards rather than outwards. Chirp chirp chirp needs to turn into ______ ________ ________.

ENTRY 19

Sister’s going to be f***ing pissed but it was the only thing to do.

ENTRY 20

Honestly, it was just a bird! If it was really part of our family, you’d think that I’d know its name by now.

ENTRY 21

I said that Polly’s in a better place now, but set her off with the “Polly”. Maybe this was a mistake. She said I “begged” her to get the bird but she shouldn’t say that when she’s the one reacting like this.

ENTRY 22

Books should come with suggestion boxes. No more birds. Story’s six feet under just like Gladys. See, I can finally remember it now that I can hear myself think. 

[whats-the-story-tc]

9th of October, 2020

"The One with the Cards Laid Bare"

[INCREDIBLY LONG, SORRY FOR CLOGGING THE TAG]

There were very tense energies in our classroom before V's double class. We already knew she'd cried today, we knew where she'd be working from other classes, so we all knew what would come, and it still was bad. One of the boys said he heard that she hopes we're not all angry at her and that we won't hate her for her decision. There was not an inch of anger or hatred in any of us, just heartbreak. We knew how much we'd cry seeing her leave. We were afraid of this goodbye. But it had to come eventually. The last class she'll ever teach. The last two lessons she'll ever have.

She was late. Only a couple minutes, but seeing she's always on time, or even a bit early, it was worrying. I walked outside to find her, and when I did, I saw her, coming up the stairs with two boys from the class, fresh back from lunch. Immediately as she saw me, she raised her index finger and said: "No." I didn't really understand it, until she continued: "I'm not gonna cry. I'm trying to go at least two minutes without crying." My heart was in shambles, and nothing even happened yet.

She started by telling us an e-mail is not how she wanted us to find out. She wanted to tell us herself, but not until today, probably not until the end of class, even though she's known for quite a long time she wanted to leave. She didn't tell us, because she wanted these last days not to be chaotic, so we could still focus and do our best in class. There were signs, though. And I should have known. There's one in basically every post I wrote this year. Funny thing is, when I told you about how she was with the girl from the other class and I thought something was up, it was only my gut feeling. She hadn't told them yet. Only in the last 20 minutes of that double class.

She also told us who will be replacing her, just to get the professional part quickly over with. V said she expects us to treat them fairly, even if she won't be here to check on us. We keep this promise. Most of the time, it works.

Being a teacher doesn't pay well, and here, in our country, the profession itself is not respected the way it should be. 10 years of experience in the field means nothing, she said. The new education system is horrible, unbearable, and she's had enough of feeling like she's in a toxic relationship. Not with us, with teaching. She said she used to feel very anxious when she got here, and by now I know what she hadn't told us in that moment, that she still doesn't feel good thinking about school. She has to leave for her own sake, even though she feels incredibly guilty about it. Even though she'll miss us.

She said, through tears, constantly stopping to take a deep breath and gather her thoughts, that teaching is something she was planning to do her whole life long, but she has to step back now. Even though she has "the seniors, standing before their graduation exams, [us], whom [she's] bonded with", she can't do it anymore. And when one of the girls asked her if she really did love us, she said: "Would I have stayed so long if I didn't?"

We spent long minutes in class discussing the education system, and when I said I didn't know about something that supposedly came from the weaker one of the theatre universities here at home, V was surprised that I hadn't read it. She called me a nickname again, a new one. I've been babygirl and I've been fairy bug before, but not once have I been the name that translates to "my life". Spanish speakers, it's like when you guys say mi vida to someone you love. That's what V called me. I don't remember her ever having called someone that in class.

Between classes, Bandana Friend, who was sick, joined us via video call to speak to V, as she really wanted to say goodbye, at least like this. I stood right beside V as they spoke, out of the camera's sight, unlike my classmates, constantly goofing off in the background, making both V and my friend laugh a little. As I stood there, I couldn't help but marvel at V's eyes from up close, in the light. I don't think I've ever seen a more enchanting eye colour before, and I find nearly every pair of eyes I see pretty. Seriously, I wasn't overexaggerating in any of my posts. If you once catch her eye, you won't know when to stop looking.

After a while, though, my classmates got a bit much, still during the call, and there I was, gathering bravery and doing something I've never done before. I stroked V's arm for a second or two, like I've wanted to so many times before, to show sympathy. She didn't even look at me, didn't even flinch, she probably knew who was touching her. And, seeing how unresponsive, how calm she was about it, I couldn't help but think: "Is this something I could've done this whole time?"

Before the second class with her started, Debate Friend called her a derivative of her first name (though she made sure to say Miss with it), and V just told her not to be rude. Hours pass, and V lets her (and us all, indirectly) call her by her first name, which is something we're still adapting to, but I'm rushing too far ahead, let's slow down a little.

The second class went well, she wasn't crying anymore, on the contrary. We laughed a lot, she told us her honest opinion on a lot of us, who asked her what she thinks of them, and gave advice if needed. I didn't ask. I figured that if she wants to tell me something, she will. Then a very crazy chain of events happened.

She looked like she was gonna tear up again, and I couldn't sit and watch anymore. I stood up and walked right in front of her, not daring to ask for a hug, but hoping she'll get the message with arm gestures. It took her a bit, but when she did, she couldn't help but yell something that I would translate to: "[Specs] is jumping me!". The word she used here is something usually used in a romantic or flirty context. (Translation was never my forte.) You can probably imagine the laughter, and also my face as I realise that not even on her last day could she go without sassing me at least once.

But then. Oh, then. The next thing I hear as I turn towards her is as she says: "C'mere, Little Me." and before I know it, I find myself sobbing in her arms again, and thinking about how this happened. She seemed taken aback by or uncomfortable with the comparison the last time we spoke about it in March, before the quarantine. When did she accept it, or how? Now as I re-read that post, as I'm writing this one... could the turning point have been me calling her my sister? I had so many questions, but all I could do was cry.

Class was nearing the end when I finally managed to stop sobbing and ask her one thing I've been meaning to for ages: what her tattoos mean. "How much should I go into detail?" she asked with sparkling eyes. She wasn't even surprised I knew about the two on her shoulder blades — but I was, when she motioned with her fingers she actually had three. Before telling me about them, she jokingly said something along the lines of "I'm not gonna strip for you" (as all 3 are covered by clothes), and me being me, I immediately threw my hands up, face probably red, and said: "Nononononono, obviously [not]!"

Funny thing is, the two on her shoulder blades are actually quotes from the last book she had us read, the last thing we discussed with her in class on Wednesday. So this is what she meant when she said she had personal connections to it! After she told me which parts they're from, she jokingly added "Very English teacher [of me]...", to which I just laughed and responded "Yeah, very."

By the time I'm writing this, I already had to listen to the headmaster, one of V's replacements, as he bragged about knowing of these two tattoos. Heh. That's cute. It's still 2-1 to me, sir. Not only have I seen them partially before, which you said you haven't, but I also know about the one she most definitely never told you about. And the one I'm most definitely not gonna tell you guys about. Sorry. Some things just have to stay between V and I.

"Also, no one noticed that this is the first time since I came here that I've worn a band T-shirt!" she complains to me jokingly. "Well, I was used to your graphic shirts, so I didn't think much of it," I reply. She's very enthusiastic in telling me what exactly is on it, without me even asking. This woman put on a shirt that essentially disses Christianity — in a religious school. Unbelievable. I love her.

Somewhere around that time, I asked her to let me walk with her to the teacher's lounge, Bookworm Friend convinced her to take a photo with our squad (which had basically everyone I know, my own father included, telling me we look identical), I stroked her arm again (I no longer remember what the reason was, but she still must've felt it pretty natural, seeing she didn't react), and like 3/4 of the class came to hug V goodbye. Meanwhile, another girl I've been classmates with for ages, but never particularly liked, hugged me to try and comfort me. It caught me off-guard, but I've never felt more like our class is a community.

People from other classes came to talk as she walked outside, but I waited until she was alone, and most probably so was she. She promised, likely knowing that I wanted to talk privately, so we didn't leave until it was just the two of us left.

"Come, Little Me," she said again, as we got going. She liked this phrase so much that she repeated it in English. "Mini Me." Then I found out why the English. Turns out, her native English speaker boyfriend, who she name-dropped like it's second nature, as if she's telling a story to a friend (she's so whipped for him, it's adorable), knows all about this comparison, and had a good laugh at it. He knows who I am. I was important enough to mention at home to her boyfriend, something I always wondered about but never dared to ask her. Tears.

No, really, actual tears. I've told you before, I don't support confessing love to your teachers while you're still their student (I'd wait a year after graduation if I were you), and especially if you're underage, and I myself wouldn't do it either. And I didn't. My confession was a little different. My voice breaking from tears, I told her the one thing I wanted her to know most. "This is not how I wanted to tell you, but I've never got more (in life) from anyone..." The answer? The old classic. "Come on."

"[Specs], you really need to get more self-confidence" she tells me, as that's about the only thing I still need to get me where I want to be. "I have to," I reply. And I do. I'm trying. Funny thing, self-confidence. It comes up in both the first and the last conversation we have as student and teacher.

We get up, stand at the top of the stairs. Soon it's time to go. The memories get a bit hazy here, but I'll try my best.

She tells me she expected me to react this way, and was afraid of it, seeing what happened in January. I immediately corrected her. In January, I cried because seeing my classmates hurting and my teachers clueless and lost hurt me, whereas this time, it's personal. She doesn't say anything. I think she understands. I ask her if she'll be happy in this new situation, and she says she hopes so. Only time will tell.

"I probably won't be available at a moment's notice all the time, but if you ever need me, you'll find me," she reassures me.

My English (language) teacher walks outside in that moment, and starts talking to V like I'm not even there. V and I are both a bit uncomfortable with the interruption, but the teacher seems pretty fine with it. Fucking hell, woman, insensitivity much?

Anyway. When she's gone is probably the moment we realise this is it. That this is where it's over.

She reaches out, both verbally and physically, and there we are, hugging again, both of us stroking the other's back in an effort to try and comfort the other. "You always have your friends," she tells me. "Get a good rest," she adds somewhere during that moment. Then we pull away.

I don't reach out, I don't dare to. As soon as I step out of her arms, it's her, who takes a hold of my hand. Not clinging, just a gentle, meaningful hold. I have no idea what she was saying, as I focused on the fact that we were only bloody holding hands in plain sight — and another thing.

V's eyes were red, and full of tears.

She hadn't shed a single tear for the past 20 minutes or so. Yet there she stands before me, physically still holding on to me, and crying. That was all me. And all of a sudden, I understand everything. I no longer have the guts to deny that she loved me all this time.

That's where it ends. No grandiose confessions, nothing loud, nothing overly passionate. Just a scene of two women standing hand-in-hand, showing their true colours and not holding anything back for the first time since they've met, before Miss V, the teacher, forever disappears behind a glass door.

These two women, mentioned above, are the ones who laid the foundation for two friends, two equals to meet anew. They are just getting to know each other all over again as we speak, setting the tone for something to start that could possibly last a long time. And I don't think there's anything that could feel better than that.

~ S ♡

[Every story I share here, no matter how specific I get with my wording, depicts actual events from my own life.]

[howtosurvivebeingsingle]

I Do, Do I?

If you follow my regular blog that I rarely post on, you'll know that my heterosexual roomie proposed to me. The thing is, we're both hetero females that decided that instead of getting married by 50 at the rate we're going, we may as well. The amount of benefits married couples get while they're still in college is ridiculous. We have friends that live a town away that are both married since they graduated high school and the amount of money they were able to save landed them a cozy four-bedroom house. Sounds too good to be true, and believe me I wish it were. I am still attending my local university myself trying to double major, as is my roommate. We both have multiple jobs to support our apartment but with expenses, we're borderline broke. There's enough to get by, that being said when classes start is where the trouble begins. Marriage is looking pretty tempting right now. Is it really all it's cracked out to be? Here are the details I've heard so far; You get generous financial aid meaning starving is less likely, Married life is less expensive which is less cost of living in an apartment or house, Mutual motivation from your spouse (depends but mine's fine), and it prepares you for what marriage is actually like.

In Short, my maybe wife and I will pay less for college, less for housing, have that emotional support most people lack, and get a taste of what being married to a man is like (sort of). The bargain is that if we actually go through with this, we'll still date men as we please and if we're in an actual relationship and the guy proposes we get a divorce. Imagine your maid of honor is your ex-wife? There's more humor to it. He picks you up for a date and she's watching tv. Before you go, "Bye Honey!", or she gets the door for you and introduces herself as your actual married wife. The situation is so complex that I'm actually near writing a book about it. Here's where I advertise my Finding Mr. Darcy book trilogy that's in the works. If there's one thing I know about, it's being single. I'm the Carrie Bradshaw of singles instead of sex, that is if I can even claim that title. I asked my friend if he thought being married had all the perks and he said this; "It's a pipedream trying to trap singles into thinking life is better with someone else. True as that last statement maybe, the rest is not. The idea is that after marriage it's time to settle down. You move into a cottage in the plains, wide-open spaces where all the little kids can run around. Your husband comes back from work and the two of you snuggle in bed without a care, it's bullshit. Girls and I mean girls are too high maintenance now that you've got to give them everything they want or it's no deal. Hell, you're even lucky to find a woman who actually wants to care for you as much as herself. Total pipedream, and waste in this century."

That was the first time I had ever heard him speak so hopelessly about love. I expected an answer like "No, true love is out there somewhere." as he often said, but this was not the case at all. Either he was in a really bad mood that day, or I don't know my best friend like I thought I did. The next day, I decided to take a look at married couples in the workplace, by workplace, I mean my job in digital services. From what I was seeing was a lot of arguing. Either the man would be on the computer and the woman was nagging on him the whole time or the woman was on the computer and the man was making her feel like she was stupid. If both parties were separate, the wife would call every ten minutes to ask meaningless questions, or the wife was present with two or more hyper kids. It was hard for them to get anything done with or without their spouse present. I also decided to take a look at single parents and the closest one was my sister. In 2019, she got pregnant with my nephew by her boyfriend Will. She had him in march of 2020, so he's about a year old and beginning to get used to his legs. When she's home, she's stressed from being home from work, and on her off days, she's stressed with her son's rambunctious behavior. Our mother watches him when she's working her ten-hour shifts and leaves the rest to her when she gets back. Pretty soon it'll just be my sister and her kid when mom moves down south of the US. Both can verify that he's quite the handful and with my experience, he is. That doesn't mean I love him any less, but my share of babysitting isn't any easier.

The situation is mutual whether you're married or not with kids. Stress with a side of stress and exhaustion. Putting kids aside, I've seen couples without kids like my maybe wife's other best friend. Things seem all prim and proper when they come to visit, but according to her, they still manage to argue almost on a daily. My coworkers feel the same way about marriage life even when I had explained my situation. They continued to urge me to take things into careful consideration before jumping head into marriage. I kept getting negative answers from people despite my search to find some hope for the situation. Then the question crossed my mind; despite the fairytale images given to us in childhood, is it really worth the trouble of getting married?

Julie: "It always ends in tears. Someone leaves, someone dies, or you get a divorce."

Varsha: "So long as they compliment you. You need support from both parties for it to work."

Denny: "It depends. You don't need a man or woman to support you all the way, you can do fine just being single. My wife and I are great, but I'd be just as fine alone."

Enzo: "No. All odds are against you in the long run. The woman finds someone else to bug and takes half of everything."

Annie: "It's more of a want than a need. The best thing is not to be pressured into it if you're not 100% into it."

Vinny: "Only if you're ready and trust each other all the way."

Marcus: "The question you should be asking is if friendship is worth it. That's what it really comes down to."

Lori: "It can be fulfilling despite the fear of failure."

The answers kept leading me in circles and in the end, I wound up back where I started. It was a total toss-up of whether you got heads or tails, but I wasn't about to give in that easily. I decided to take my venture to a baseball game on Friday and what I saw there nearly startled me. A couple of 65 years renewed their vows at the stadium. I started to think that maybe all it did take was a bit of compromise and despite half the negativity from my interview and friends there really is someone for everyone. Perhaps the divorced people just haven't found the right person just yet. Like my grandmother on my mother's side, she married four men before she met my grandfather and they've been together almost fifty years. I guess you could say it was a task of trial and error, but it worked out in the long run. Neither of them has ever had a reason to want to divorce. Before I leave questions unanswered, yes my grandfather too also had his share of divorces. The numbers don't seem to matter, only the fact that there really could be someone out there for everyone. A glimmer of hope to end this rather late and brief update. I wonder if there really is hope, is there still time for we singles of every shade and orientation. Is there truly that soulmate we all long for somewhere besides where we are? Until next time and Much Love Your Way Darlings!

[confused-bi-queer]

My journey, I was never straight, just in love with a guy

I feel safe, so I will write this, just because. Nobody is gonna read this anyway

I’m angry because it took me 18 years to freaking know that I’m not straight and there were several things that were obvious and I wish I would’ve notice them. So, here I go. I’m a her at this moment, keep that in mind.

When I was like 6 or so, I pretended to be a boy, for myself. It always made me curious.

When I was like 8 or 9 I never had a problem in dancing with another girl, I was always one of the tall ones and sometimes boys weren’t enough, so they put me with a girl friend and I liked to pretend I was a boy.

When I was like 10, I realized that my height never bothered me, just the fact that I was a tall girl and boys at that age were really really short.

When I was 11, or 12, I went to a catholic school dressed as a man. This was funny and cool. They told us to go in a costume and I went with a suit and a tie, and the director gave me a bad look, but I FELT SAFE. I liked my “costume”.

At that age, I wore a boxer for the first time and enjoyed the fact that I had men’s clothes, I hate them tho, they are uncomfortable.

When I was like 13, I almost kissed my girl best friend, by accident, and I didn’t care, but the fact that there were like 4 other people watching us, made me nervous.

When I was 14, I joked a lot about kissing a friend and spent over a WEEK figuring out which girl had the most desirable lips and who I would kiss if I could, the funny thing is that I had a boyfriend.

At that same time, I had a best friend, another girl, and we always joked about being girlfriends and we always planned, as a joke, to break up with our boyfriends and be together. I broke up with him like 4 months later, but for other reasons.

In those moments I noticed that it wouldn’t bother me if I ever had a girlfriend, to experiment right? (Crowley, the lies I told myself)

When I was 16, one morning I woke up and chose not to give a fuck and dressed up like the boys at my school: with long shorts, a hoddie, my socks high and like that and I felt nice, but my sibling was like “you’re gonna go like that” and changed.

By the end of 2019, my family knew that I liked dressing like a guy sometimes and my mom told me in public, “Why don’t you come like a man, you know, with your tie and suit?” and I loved the idea, but the people around us laughed and I just told her I’ll pass.

I went shopping with my family, to buy clothes, and I was feeling shy because I wanted to buy boy shirts, but I didn’t want anyone to look at me. I told my dad this, and he said it was fine and bought me 3 shirts, I felt soooo good, because I sometimes feel safer in those clothes.

NOW, from here was the real mess, when I noticed that this was not someone straight would do. In the middle of 2020, I was playing a game, A GAME, this episode thingy and chose a girl, because what the hell, I thought it would be fun and it was, and I’m in the middle of a dance class and said out loud for me: “well, this is way more exciting that with a dude” and everything just screwed up from here. Because when I heard myself I was like, what did I just say, and I spent the rest of the class thinking about that.

When the class finished, I thought more and realized that I might not be that straight after all. I questioned if I ever liked men or just my ex, because I’ve been in love with that guy sfor years, I don’t anymore, but I was into him from 5 years until I was 16 years, and that’s why I never knew anything about myself. After that, I made counts and I do like men, but girls too????? And FUCKING GOOGLED IT. Because I labelled myself immediately as a bi girl. And one test was like: “Well, if you’re here asking if you are straight, you’re not” and that sticked with me.

After that, I did some research and went back in my life and labelled myself again. Here’s the thing, I don’t like thinking about sex with men, I haven’t, and that thought made me anxious and disgusted, no offense men, and considered being an ace bisexual, like being attracted to both genders, but no sex. Buuuut, I found out about this term “demisexual” and fits me. But the problem was now the girls and it’s taking me some time to still discover at what point I’m attracted to them, but I am. At this moment I’m definitely bi, demisexual for the boys and confused with girls.

I have came out to three people, and whoever sees this, but doesn’t know who I am. The first person was a friend of mine, bisexual, and she was hella excited for me, so I feel safe with her. The second one was my sister, I tried, and boy did I regret it; she spent over half hour saying that I was confused and that only because a boy broke my heart I couldn’t hate men and that how would I ever be sure (because I didn’t tell her I was sure) and sometimes I say that a girl is pretty or things like that, but never to make her remember I came out. The last one is my best friend, we were on zoom and I sent her a text, didn’t talk about that, but sometimes I feel connected to her.

I cut my hair to my chin. And that felt NICE, I love my short hair, but I couldn’t cut it shorter, like a guy, because I dance and I need at least some hair to make a pony tail, at least. But once I’m out, I will cut it.

Once I was sure of me being bi and solved this thing that didn’t take me that long, just like 6 months, and I was finally happy and proud and I knew myself more, like I found myself, at the end of 2020 I started hating my clothes and my long hair. Because my hair is growing up so fucking fast.

On december 2020, I felt uncomfortable in my own skin, I sometimes am, and decided that when 2021 ends, I’ll know if I felt like that because I want to change the aesthetic of my clothes. I thought it was just that, I think it still is.

At the end of February and beginning of March of this year, I read Carry on and Wayward son, by Rainbow Rowell, and loved them, although I’m broken and not mentally stable anymore, but I loved them, I found my comfortable characters, Snowbaz, and I feel connected to them, because they have been an inspiration for a novel I’m writing, they have change me, and they are kinda ruining me, because I thought I wanted to become a director, but turns out I want to go to UK and study fucking literature (a plan I thought didn’t exist anymore, it does, AGAIN). Well, thanks to Baz in WS, I found my aesthetic: flower shirts. And actually flowers have always been my thing, but not once I have wore them because my mom always said they were too much. That’s why I don’t know if my gender identity is crap, because I never had a place to dress like I wanted: using men’s clothes.

Thanks to Baz and his amazing shirts, one day, like last week, I dressed as himself, with the things I had, and I could because I had the clothes, but too girly. After that, it came to me a question, that it’s been messing with me. “Do I want to look like Baz, or do I want to be Baz?” And that’s why I’m having a problem with my pronouns, mind, identity, fucking clothes and everything. A fictional character just messed with me!

I saw this person in tiktok that was gender fluid and I kinda identified with them, because some times I feel masc and sometimes girly and some times I want to cry because no one in my family understand this and I’m the closeted gender confused sibling, child, cousin. So, I think that maybe I am gender fluid or just mentally ill. Crowley,I need to go to therapy.

So, I have stated that I want floral shirts, no matter what, I do, I am a floral person, but people just don’t want other people to be be themselves with their clothes. Yesterday, I went for an ice cream with my sister and told her this, that I wanted and AM a floral person and pointed at her floral shirts and blew my mind, I WANTED THEM and she responded with a “those are boys clothes”, and I told her “so? what about that?” and changed the topic. 

Basically, my problems are around the way I dress, the pandemic that has taken a complete year of my life and I want to fucking live, and the fact that I want to go to another country to study a career I discarded because I had a class like that in high school and broke me, and it is not cheap, I’m not good at it and my parents didn’t even like the idea of me living in another state my own country aaand it is too late for me to send an application for next semester.

Back to my original point, I never ever questioned anything of myself and my behaviours because I was in love with the same guy all my life and dated him for a long shit of time, so I thought because I liked him, I was a girl loving a guy, but after several years of having broken up with him, I am a someone bi, because I don’t know. I don’t, but spoiler alert... I am not straight, at all.

[beautyiisterror]

10 questions tag 📚

Rules: answer 10 questions and ask 10 new ones. Thanks so much @therefugeofbooks for tagging me in this, i’m so excited!!!!!

1. What's your favorite cold drink?

if we are talking about alcoholic drinks, caipirinhas are the utimate cocktail, do not @ me!!!!! all flavors, are just *chef’s kiss*, but like in general i love orange juice and ice tea.

2. What's the first thing you notice about a person?

i honestly don’t know??? i mean, if they are goodlooking and not a bad person??? those are literally my two criteria. i like people who are smart and have pretty smiles and kind eyes, just not to sound shallow (which i kinda am lol)

3. Do you have any pets? What would you name if you had one (more)?

I DO!!!!!!! i have two pets acctually, a cat and a dog and they are EVERYTHING TO ME!!!! their names are jake (the dog) and belo (the cat). if i had one more, i would like to have a black cat named luna, because i’m a sailor moon trash.

4. What was your favorite TV show growing up?

i don’t really remember, but i used to love all shows with girls doing stuff? like winx club and totally spies. i used to love those!!! i still kinda do actually. 

5. What's your ideal vacation?

i love travelling with friends, and unfortunately, i don’t get to do as often. so i think my ideal vacation would be like travel to a really cool, unexpected place, with the biggest number of my friends that we can gather to such adventure. 

6. Is there any book that you want to read but by any reason you keep avoiding it?

you mean like, 70% of my bookshelf/kindle library????? hahahaha honestly, i buy books faster then i can read them so is always a HUGE tbr pile all around my room, i’m a chaotic reader, and i take no pride in that. but usually the books i keep avoinding are the classics, and the bigger ones. specially because, from a little time now i’m trying to add diversity to the cultural stuff that i consume, and it doesn’t help that most of the books i have here are from dead cishet white dudes. but i will get around reading them, even if is just to complain about it. 

7. What book do you hope will be turned into a movie or TV show one day?

one of the best books i’ve read this year was my sister, the serial killer by  oyinkan braithwaite, honestly, this book has everything that i love in fiction: complex women, sibilings relationships, FAMILY DINAMICS TO DIE FOR, pretty women comiting murder, humor... honestly five out of five stars, and i would love to see a movie adaptation of it. i would also love a kyoshi duology adaptation, even if i’ve only read the first book yet, i just love avatar universe so much, and kyoshi is my favorite avatar (ALSO A BISSEXUAL WOMAN OF COLOR IS JUST EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) it would be awesome to see a show about her. bonus points if it is animation, but honestly, there are so many great asian actresses around, i would love anyways.

8. Are there any books that are really popular but you dislike?

i can’t really remember many of those, even if i’m really picky with my readings, i’m quite easy to please. but a recent reading that was ABSOLUTELLY FRUSTRATING because i really wanted to like the book, was hanya yanagihara’s a little life. once again, the book covered subjects that i usually fell really drawn to, such as coming of age, found family, FRIEND GROUPS THAT DON’T FALL APART AFTER ADULTHOOD, non white writer/main characters, lgbtqia+ characters. honestly, a nox’s favorites textbook premise. AND YET, I HATED IT SO MUCH!!!! all the unecessary pain that some of the characters go to, that at one point through my reading i just rolled my eyes when something terrible happened/was revealed about the past of one of the main characters. and the identity of the non white characters wasn’t really explored as they should? it honestly felt like just more excuses to make those characters go through MORE PAIN. it was honestly hard to finish it up. and the more frustrating thing is that so many people seem to think this is a great representative book, just doesn’t sit well with me. i also think is impotant to say that there are SO MANY POSSIBLE TRIGGERS IN THIS BOOK, AND I DIDN’T SEE ANYONE TALKING ABOUT THIS BEFORE I READ IT!!! so i’ll leave a list of the triggers i was abble to notice throught out my reading, in case anyone is thinking about give it a go:

content warnings for a little life by hanya yanagihara: self harm, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, disordered eating, physical abuse of a minor, domestic abuse, abuse of character with a disability, loss of a child, drug abuse/addiction, sexual assault/rape, pedophilia, ptsd, forced prostitution of a minor 

9. When did you last visit a library?

wow it has been so long... i think it was sometime in march of this year, that i went to my college library to pick up some class readings that i had to do, and then QUARENTINE HAPPENED, and i still am with the books i picked up lol. thank god that they lifted up the tax for late books or else i would have to sell my soul to pay it hahahaha i really miss going to college...

10. Could you recommend me a book that you think is underrated?

THIS IS SUCH A HARD QUESTION!!!!!!!!!! as i’ve said, i’m trying to do more diverse readings, and in this time i have come in contact with celeste ng’s work, and it’s honestly SUCH GREAT STORIES!!! i also love some contemporary brazilian authors like vitor martins and lucas rocha (both were translated to english recently, and i really recomend that if you are a english speaker you check their work), i also loved laura pohl’s debute novel, the last 8, she is brazillian as well, but her work is published in the us so no excuse not to check out. also, if like me you are a big fan of avatar universe you totally should check the kyoshi’s novels by f.c yee!!!! i also been meaning to pick up the trilogy of the poppy war written by r.f kuang and children of blood and bone by tomi adeyemi, simply because: WOMEN OF COLOR WRITTING FANTASY!!!!! but it’s not really a recomendation, as i have not read those books, but i am definetly doing it in a near future. 

(another author that i can’t go without mention is olivia pilar, she is a black bissexual woman who writes love stories between black women, and some of her short stories are available in english as well, and honestly WHOLESOME CONTENT!!!!!)

— Here are my ten questions, i don’t really know who to tag, but if you see that, and want to answer it i would love to see your answers, so feel free to keep on the tag! i had a lot of fun answering it, and i hope you guys do to!!!

what is your top 5 literature characters, and why?

are you a tea, coffee or hot chocolate kind of person?

what is your favorite/chosen aesthetic?

if you were the final girl in a horror movie, which song would you like to play in the soundtrack when you got away?

who are your favorite relationships in fiction (of any kind)? 

how do you feel about villans?

what is your favorite boyband?

do you prefer physical or digital books?

what is your favorite type of story?

what is your favorite season?

Looking forward to see your answers ✨

[ladyhistorypod]

Episode 14: Thanksgiving Special

Sources:

Susan La Flesche

The History Reader

PBS: New Perspectives on the West

Hampton University

Hampton Archives

Nebraska Studies

Further Reading/Watching: PBS American Masters, Smithsonian Magazine

Sacagawea

Brooklyn Museum

National Museum of the American Indian Blog

Native Mascots And Other Misguided Beliefs (NMAI)

National Women’s History Museum

Nat Geo Kids

Ted Ed

Further Reading: Smithsonian American Women: Remarkable Objects and Stories of Strength, Ingenuity, and Vision from the National Collection, I Am Sacagawea, Sacajawea of the Shoshone

Zitkala-Sa

Utah Women’s History

Women and the American Story

Akta Lakota Museum and Cultural Center

National Parks Service

Further Reading: Women in America, Extra and Ordinary: Zitkala-Sa (Smithsonian Libraries)

Click below for the transcript of this episode!

Haley: So how old are your guys’ parents, and did you ever growing up like regard them as like the old parents?

Alana: My… so my… Here's what's really fucking me up these days, is that Joe Biden graduated from the University of Delaware the same year my dad was born. So my dad was born in June of 1965 and Joe Biden graduated University of Delaware probably like May of 1965. So that's what's making me uncomfortable these days.

Lexi: You know when my mom graduated from the University of Delaware?

Alana: When?

Lexi: The nineties. (Laughing)

Alana: So my parents, they’re like kind of old. My mom was born in 1963, but my mom is also the third of four children.

Haley: Because my mom was born in ‘69 and my dad ‘67. And Robert’s parents… I don't know exactly when they were born but I know it's in the cluster of my parents. But my mom and dad were always regarded as like the younger parents. And it came up today because my sister's boyfriend's parents have always been regarded– my mom's like oh they’re older because my sister's boyfriend, Stephen, is the youngest of four. So my mom and dad got married three days after my mom graduated from college, but they waited seven years. Like they owned a freakin’ Subway and went backpacking in Europe before having me. Like they lived their life, if you will, and then they had kids. But all my friends, like growing up, all their parents are like five to ten years older than my parents.

Lexi: So my parents got married at twenty three.

Alana: Also ridiculous.

Lexi: They were born in 1972. No shade giving my mom’s age out, but honestly she's super young. We get mistaken for sisters no matter where we go, especially if we’re with my grandmother. They tell her she has two lovely daughters. I don't know if that's an insult to me or a compliment to my mother… 

Haley: A compliment to your mother.

Alana: It’s definitely a compliment to your mother.

Lexi: My mother was invited to frat parties when she visited me in college several times.

Haley: No, your mother is smokin’ hot. Like my mother–

Lexi: She was the marching band MILF. Do you know the song Stacy's Mom?

Alana: Of course I know Stacy's Mom.

Lexi: The marching band, when we played it would sing Lexi’s mom.

Alana, singing: Lexi’s mom has got it goin’ on.

[INTRO MUSIC]

Alana: Hello and welcome to Lady History; the good, the bad, and the ugly ladies you missed in history class. by whipping sort of as always is Lexi Lexi what are you thankful for.

Lexi: I am thankful for you guys.

Alana: That’s gross. I am also joined(ish) by Haley. Haley, are you a white meat or dark meat kinda gal?

Haley: I really like– I guess like the– like a turkey leg? That’s dark meat. That’s my jam. I'm also not necessarily a turkey person.

Alana: And I'm Alana and I'm team captain of the cranberry sauce defense squad.

[Turkeys gobbling]

Alana: I don't think there is a good word for the people who were in the Americas before white people came to the Americas.

Lexi: There is not a good single word.

Haley: I also think that it's not us as non those people… 

Alana: That's the thing. And that was the conversation that we had–

Haley: And I hate that I said “those people” because it shouldn’t be “those people” but like

but like for my grad school, we have a whole section of like repatriation, NAGPRA, all that lovely good stuff in our law class. And with our history and theory class there's always like this– kinda wanna call it a symposium?– We asked the question, and I think it was my professor who posed it, because she's like I have to talk about it and I'm a Jewish white woman. I know people like have their preference on Jewish people versus Jews and I want to be able to teach the correct thing. And everyone in the room said Native Peoples just because so many different tribes or groups don't consider themselves American. So that’s what I use. And I like that the like phrase and I’m probably– someone else probably saying this but I’m gonna make it up for myself right now; just go with what you know until you're proven wrong. Because like that's what I know and like for now.

Alana: But that's the thing that we were talking about not on the podcast, elsewhere, about how like I've never heard an actual Latinx person use the phrase Latinx.

Haley: I do not consider myself–

Alana: Except for on One Day at a Time actually.

Lexi: I feel like I always go with if I need to call someone something I'm going to ask them–

Haley: Yes.

Lexi: –What they identify as, and if I don't know them well enough to have that conversation maybe I shouldn't be speaking for them in any way… Or not speaking for them, but I shouldn't be like representing them. But it's really complicated when we talk about history because a lot of the words we use didn't exist then. Like Ida B. Wells considered herself Negro, and we wouldn't… we wouldn't probably use that word now.

Haley: Well like with pronouns. We don’t assume–

Alana: Exactly.

Haley: –pronouns. So like… Because I feel very weird when people like assume like my race or ethnicity. And I identify that… I identify with being Persian or Cuban more so than being a female if that makes sense.

Lexi: Right.

Haley: I've never… it's not like I'm non– like non binary. I identify as female but I've never been like a FEMALE.

Speaker 3: I feel like with gender it's so– so easy to once you decide to do it just start using they as a default when you're not sure what someone's preference is, and there's not that for race or ethnicity. There’s not like a default word where you can say a word and not be offensive. Like, okay. It's like the thing with the Washington Redskins which is now the Washington Football Team. There were a lot–

Alana: Which is what my cousin always called it. Was always calling it the Washington Football Team.

Lexi: Actually apparently they picked that because a lot of people did just call it that. But also it's not even in Washington DC so it frustrates the crap out of me. But apparently like a bunch of people were up in arms about it that were Native peoples but then a bunch of Native peoples were like nah it's chill. And so it's like you can't say that all these people agree on something.

Haley: Yeah.

Alana: Yeah.

Haley: That's where we go back to like–

Lexi: There isn't a single hive mind of all of these people you’re trying to represent. Everyone has these own little different versions. And so, you know, what I've been told by a lot of people is like narrow it down. Like for example if you're Omaha, you’re Omaha. If you’re Hoganashone you’re Hoganashone. Because that's how they like refer to themselves.

Haley: Yeah. Yes. And I’ve heard this too. Like– I’m gonna say this. I was on Tik Tok.

(Alana and Lexi laughing)

Lexi: Honestly cultural Tik Tok is very fun. Like culture-based Tik Tok.

Haley: I’ve landed myself on what was called by this group of Tik Tok– this flavor of Tik Tok– Native and Indigenous Tik Tok.

Lexi: Yeah I've seen that.

Haley: But I noticed that for the Tik Tok-ers who are in Canada would use Indigenous.

Alana: I will never tell someone of one group that something is not anti that group because I don't want gentiles to tell me what is and what is not antisemitic, I don't want men to tell me what is and is not misogynistic, I don't want… what's my other identity? Oh, I'm queer. I don't want straight people to tell me what is and is not homophobic–

Haley: “What's my other identity?”

Alana: “What’s my other identity?”

Lexi: “I can’t remember. I’ve got so many.”

Alana: What’s my other one? I’m like marginalized in three different ways and I don’t remember what the third one is.

Archival Audio: For our clinics are all specialized. Wednesday afternoons, for instance, we only see expectant mothers. But each one is a different problem, because each one is a different person. They feel they're special, too, and always seem amazed when they discover they have something in common with the other women, but that’s natural. After all, we all think of our health problems as personal problems.

Lexi: Today I'm going to tell you the story of Susan La Flesche, the first Native American to receive a medical degree. And as we discussed, we’re not sure exact on the terms people prefer. Susan lived a long time ago and regarded herself as Native American, that’s why I'm using that term, but I understand that some people may not use that term to refer to themselves. But she identified as that, so that's what I'm calling her. So yes, she was the first Native American to receive a medical degree. Susan was an Omaha woman. Her father Iron Eyes, or Chief Joseph La Flesche, the last Omaha chief selected by traditional tribal methods, and he was the son of a Frenchman and an Omaha woman so he was half French, half Omaha. And as a chief he believed the only way to save his people was to mix elements of their culture with Western culture and for his people to get an education. And it was these beliefs that shaped Susan's future. Her mother was One Woman, or Mary La Flesche, and Susan was born on the Omaha reservation in Nebraska in 1865. As a child Susan, witnessed a Native woman die because the local white doctor would not provide her care. This event sparked Susan’s interest in becoming a medical professional, with the goal of helping Native people. She attended a school on the reservation until she was fourteen and then she went to the Elizabeth Institute for Young Ladies in New Jersey. Can you imagine being fourteen years old and traveling from Nebraska to New Jersey on a train by yourself? That’s crazy. That’s absolutely crazy.

Alana: Goals. I wanna do it. I love trains. I love trains. I wanna do it.

Lexi: So I think she must have been really brave, because it just that's… that's pretty amazing. A long trip for a little girl.

Alana: Especially as like first of all it being a young woman which is already dangerous, no matter what, and she's also from this like marginalized community.

Lexi: Yes.

Alana: That it's like double dangerous, quadruple dangerous because she was fourteen.

Lexi: Yeah. It's crazy. It's crazy. Must’ve been really really brave. And really wanted to go to the school I guess. So she went there for three years and at seventeen Susan returned home and she taught at the Mission School on the Omaha reservation. At the school, she worked with Alice Fletcher, who was a white woman who was an ethnologist who studied and recorded American Indian culture. And she came to live and work with the Omaha because of her passion for archaeology so she wanted to study living people to better understand the past, which has been–

Alana: Ethnographic archaeology.

Lexi: Yeah it's a thing that a lot of archaeologists like to do. When Fletcher fell ill, Susan helped her recover, and after seeing Susan’s skills and passions for medicine and health care, Fletcher urged Susan to travel east and pursue a degree in medicine. Susan enrolled in the Hampton Institute, which was a school in Virginia that was built after the Civil War to educate formerly enslaved people and had since become a hub for educating Black Americans and American Indians. When Susan was attending Hampton, a woman named Dr. Martha Waldron was working as a teacher and the resident physician at the school. Martha was a graduate of the Women's Medical College of Pennsylvania and suggested that Susan pursue further education there. Alice Fletcher, who had encouraged Susan to study medicine, assisted Susan by helping her apply for scholarships from the US Office of Indian Affairs and the Women's National Indian Association. In 1889, after two years in a three year program, Susan graduated top of her class from medical school. She spent one year doing an internship, which was similar to a modern day medical residency program in Philadelphia and then she returned home. At home, she became the primary care provider for about twelve hundred people, working at the reservation’s boarding school. In 1894, she married Henry Picotte, a Sioux man who had previously been traveling and working in Wild West shows. And they kept it all in the family with Susan's sister Marguerite deciding to marry Harry's brother Charles. So… that’s… that’s fun! After getting married, Henry and Susan had two sons and Susan opened a private practice which served both non white and white patients in her community. When Henry fell ill, Susan personally nursed him, all while working full time and caring for their two sons. At the age of forty, Susan became partially deaf, but kept working. In addition to being a doctor, Susan ran a children's library, worked as a Sunday school teacher, founded a quilting club, translated legal papers, and advocated for prohibition. In 1913, she opened a reservation hospital serving Omaha and Winnebago tribes. It was the first private hospital on a reservation anywhere in the country. Today, the building is a museum dedicated to tribal history and telling the story of Susan. In 1915, at just fifty years old, Susan passed away. Susan was important to her people because as aspects of their culture were taken away from them, she was able to draw a balance between traditional medicine and the practices that she learned at Western medical school. This worked because many of her people were still unsure about Western medicine, so by mixing their traditional healing practices with Western practices, she was able to develop a culturally specific plan of treatment. Her people grew to trust her and she began to be regarded as a modern medicine woman. She is a great example of why cultural representation is important and can impact public health. I also highly suggest watching the PBS video that I linked on the tumblr in the further watching. It’s super well made and it tells a really wonderful version of her story in a lot more detail than we're able to cover on our show and it has really good tie-ins to modern needs of communities like Susan's and interviews some modern female doctors and their communities which is really cool. That’s it. Short one.

Haley: I like– I like that story a lot.

Alana: I like that story too.

Lexi: Yeah there's not a lot about her like… 

Alana: Right.

Lexi: People don't record shit, so it’s mostly just her accomplishments, unfortunately.

(Audio from Night at The Museum)

Haley: So my story is about– drum roll please– the retelling of the story of Sacagawea. And for all of you who might be screaming my name right now, saying Hey I'm not pronouncing her name correctly, hold the phone we’ll get there. I first need to do my universal apologies for pronouncing any words, even historically American English words, incorrectly because we all know me; words aren't the greatest for my speech mouth. And to start us off, I'm switching over to the like I said that actual pronunciation– Saka-Gawea. And it's Sacagawea because in my research there's not a soft G in the Hidatsa language, which translates to bird woman. So side note, there are a bunch of different spellings, but if we're going based on the true like translation– Sa-Ka-Ga is bird, and it's spelled with a G. So Sacagawea is Sacajawea but just like–

Lexi: Can I just say, that's way prettier than Sacajawea.

Haley: Yeah because like for some Sacagawea it's like you have the G, or you have S. A. K. A. K. A. W. E. A, or instead of the G. it’s a J. But there's no hard – or, there's no soft Gs it's only hard Gs. And as a person who has a really hard time pronouncing things from reading because of the dyslexia spectrum that we know to love, it's gonna– it's gonna be balls to the walls bananas.

Alana: It's like… Was it the first Night at the Museum movie or the second Night at the Museum movie where she was like a character?

Lexi: The first.

Alana: The first one. And then the museum like–

Lexi, whispering: And then she fell in love with Theodore Roosevelt

Alana: Oh yeah, and then she fell in love with Theodore Roosevelt which was so… oh NO.

Haley: I’m glad you brought that up because I cut that part out.

Lexi: That’s a whole can of worms.

Alana: But like there's that whole thing about them pronouncing it wrong but it's always Sacaga-wee-ah or Sacaga-way-a, and I’m like both of you are wrong.

Haley: Glad you brought up Night at the Museum because I had a whole tangent on that but then I was like roll back Haley your notes are already long to begin with.

Alana: You cannot expect me to not bring up Night at the Museum if it is even tangentially relevant.

Lexi: I love them, I hate them. It's an incredible thing.

Haley: Yeah.

Alana: Rami Malek!

Haley: Yes he was–

Alana: My first love!

Haley: Back to the notes. So for our listeners out of the United States, you may have heard of Sacagawea, of course with the Lewis and Clark exploring the west. However, I'm sorry– not sorry– to say that there's a solid chance that what you learned was completely incorrect and I'm looking at you United States education system. All of y’all education system just– the poop garbage, dumpster fire, whatever you would like to say. But let me pause for a second and explain a little bit why that story is kind of messed up because not only do we have like a white savior complex with like Lewis and Clark, we also just have a lot of sexism. Like sexism is painted in semen here. Like all over the board. No menstrual blood whatsoever to like brighten up this dreary painting of shit. Alana’s face right now is… holy crap what is she saying.

Alana: It's just a little bit like– Lexi what's the word that I'm looking for that is like… the sentiment behind it is that not all men have semen that not all women menstruate. Do you know I mean? That's my thing with–

Lexi: There's a single word? There's a single word for that? 

Alana: There’s like a word for something… like reducing it to… whatever.

Haley: Yes.

Alana: And transphobia isn't quite right.

Speaker 1: That’s exactly why I use the phrase all semen in here. Because it's totally like heterosexual men explaining–

Alana: Cis heterosexual men.

Haley: Yes.

Lexi: The cis white boys?

Haley: Yes.

Alana: The cis white boys.

Haley: The cis white boys. However, it's a reason why the paintbrush is a phallic symbol, that’s all I’m gonna say. And while I will probably not tell the most accurate story, it's gonna be a hell of a lot better than what we've been given to because… I'm gonna be up front. There's so much more research I could have done and that's with all our stories. Like I think I put like three hours at least into like average for each story, sometimes more. I put in a lot more for this one. While Sacagawea was a Native people who symbolized peace and cooperation as she like navigated Lewis and Clark– with you know, the baby strapped on her back that like famous trope we have– through the west and like the Pacific… to get to the Pacific Ocean. There's a lot more to that story. First, because their crew was a crew of forty plus people; it wasn't just like the three of them moseying along like a hundred percent of the time, but we'll get to that. And even before then, I don't know about you guys but I never heard of like her growing up or her as an actual Native person. It was always “she’s with Lewis and Clark. Like she with the white people now,” never her life story as a whole, just this one small part, but I learned about Lewis and Clark's whole life story. And boy Howdy am I gonna talk about how she saved all their collective buttholes. So, while this story is both Native people’s legend and journals from the Lewis and Clark that we keep talking about. And we know that oral tradition it still history. So there are holes obviously with this timeline, but we know that she was born, or we think she was born in the Shoshone tribe in Idaho and was kidnapped at age twelve, possibly age ten. What I didn't know though is that when she was kidnapped– I knew she was kidnapped, but this is bad, I didn't actually know who kidnapped her, and it was a neighboring tribe. I believe it was the Hidatsa tribe? It was noted as a rival tribe. And from there she was sold into slavery and forced to marry Toussaint Charbonneau– C. H. A. R. B. O. N. N. E. A. U., we’ll go with that– a French Canadian fur trapper who had other quote Shoshane “wives.” So this wasn't… this wasn't great. Like it wasn't great to begin with, but we're just like still riding that train of yes you're not gonna tell a bunch of elementary school kids this story but let's not paint the picture and happy childhood. And in 1804, Meriwether Lewis and William Clark recruited no other than– I'm gonna call him TC, TC because I can't pronounce either of his names and I'm gonna keep fumbling on it– to be their wilderness guide. The geography of it was that the country almost doubled in size, but the history of it was the Louisiana Purchase was acquired by France.

Lexi: Acquired from France.

Haley: Yes. They were already on their expedition by the time they met up with TC and Sacagaweas. Sacagawea, who was sixteen and pregnant at the time, accompanied the men, and she was the only female of this shitshow of a shindig. And by shitshow of a shindig, this was like forty something other men with Lewis and Clark– like they had a whole rodeo. And we see this a lot that if people went on an expedition it wasn't just that group of people but they brought like their cooks, their wives, their children, people to like bring their food, i.e. like livestock because we didn't have fridges and such. So that like was not surprising to me. What was surprising was like that's a valuable teaching point, was just like to teach kids how did people move from place to place. And this is at the point where Clark notes that she was the most valuable member of their group, because although T. C. was like hired to give them like geography, he was like a noted French Canadian and a fur trapper, but noted as like he was not good at like navigating compared to Sacagawea and like the other Native peoples in the area. It was obvious and even Lewis and Clark were like “oh, she better” which she was. And she spoke both Shoshone and Hidatsa, and so she was like the interpreter for the white men, like literally. And that's the part like they got correct– and they being like the education system– that point was correct. She was interpreter, and shout out to the Brooklyn Museum for literally giving me the quote “interpreter for the group of white men”. Even the Brooklyn Museum’s not playing around. And obviously these white men weren't liked amongst the other Native peoples tribes, but when they saw a woman who wasn't considered to be a warrior– and that's like the key point– it wasn't just that they had a Native person with them. it was that she had a child with her, she spoke their language, and like didn't give off any alarm bells. Because also like there's that misconception that all Native peoples were friendly to each other. There are different like rivalries amongst tribes. That was just pure luck for them that that worked out. And so of course Lewis and Clark wanted to make their main man TC because his fur trapping knowledge and like how he knew the geography. And like I said that was… sure, he did some stuff. But Sacagawea basically said hold my beer, and she clearly knew where she was supposed to go. She clearly knew also just like the weather patterns, where to find food, and multiple occasions when they were like the Yellowstone area and it's really cold at night… we're in the parts where it's just snowing and dark for many many many parts of the winter. And she would like be able to not only like find but like somewhat grow or just like keep food in a way that like they would be able to sustain themselves with eating. So it was like a group effort by everyone. It wasn't just like Lewis and Clark being like “we got this, we’re gonna do it, we're gonna get to the Pacific Ocean in the middle of the winter.” Fast forward a bit– and there are a bunch of other stories of her being a complete badass, like diving into water when their canoe tips over and saving like all the important stuff; food, even like Lewis and Clark's journals.But we have to move forward, sadly, to the end of her expedition and just give her a well rounded story like I said. I wanted to hear this as a kid. And while the expedition ended in 1806, she kind of still knew Lewis and Clark. And let me do a side note here she did not receive payment for this expedition. Because like, yeah. That sounds like the right thing to do, I say with all my sarcastic cells in my body. There are a lot of them, by the way, so we're all doing a chorus of sarcastic singing. And three years later in 1809– another side note this is where at least my history kind of definitely has different stories, there's no concrete this is what happened…  There wasn't Snapchat recording everything, I guess. Clark invited Sacagawea and her family to live in Saint Louis and he also later adopted her son Jean Baptiste, and he called him Pompy, and a baby girl Lisette. And it's noted that she separated from T. C. who was abusive, but after this point like our timeline, we call dates in history, we know very little. And again, with this debated topic, her death is in that category. So records from Fort Manuel where like she lived there at a time, she supposedly died in December 1812 from typhus. And going off what Native peoples’ oral histories because again, oral histories are histories, she lived on the Shoshone lands in Wyoming until 1884. And regardless, Sacagawea clearly became somewhat of a legend with her own story being told by writers, filmmakers, historians in a time where women especially Native and/or Indigenous women, were absolutely thought of as weak, not helpful, and sometimes even dangerous. So you might be asking yourself, “Haley, where do I find other resources?” Obviously check out our show notes, they are quite lovely, and honestly children's books. The most recent ones were kind of on point. They're all about like– especially now in 2020. And then specifically in the show notes look at the Brooklyn Museum and the National Women's History Museum. And that is my story.

Alana: Hey National Women’s History Museum, do you want to give me an internship?

Haley, singing: Manifestation.

(Archival Violin Music)

Alana: Zitkala-Sa was born February 22, 1876, that makes her a Pisces. She's technically an Aquarius/Pisces cusp. And Zitkala-Sa means red bird in the Sioux language. She was born on the Yankton Indian Reservation in South Dakota. Her mother was Sioux and her father was white. Her father abandoned the family and initially when I see white father, Indigenous mother… that is alarm bells in my head, but she did have an older brother, so less alarm bells. Quieter alarm bells. And just as an FYI, a blanket statement, we had the discussion that we're not really sure if we should say Native or Indigenous so I kind of use both, mixing it up. If you know someone who has an opinion let us know and we’ll use that going forward. I think that's kind of a good general statement for this podcast; is correct us if we're wrong and we'll change our ways. Because that’s how you–

Haley: Correct us with kindness.

Alana: Oh, yeah. Correct us with kindness. Be nice.

Haley: We have feelings.

Alana: We can’t handle it. Don't be mean to me. At the age of eight, so 1884 she left the reservation when Quaker missionaries came to recruit for their– massive air quotes– school and it was only a school if by school you mean forced assimilation centers, but we'll get to that a little bit later. It was literally called the White’s Indiana Manual Labor Institute, and the U. S. is still racist, I'm not saying that it’s not racist, but at least we're not racist enough to let something with a name like that slide. I feel like… baby steps, little progress. Zitkala-Sa’s mother didn't want her to go because her brother had come back from a school and she didn't like it but Zitkala-Sa begged and begged because for kids who had never left the reservation, it seemed like a magical place and it sounded so cool. Her mother did eventually acquiesce because there were no schools on the reservation and she really wanted Zitkala to have an education. But she later wrote that the second she got on the train to Indiana she regretted fighting so hard for it. She was forced to cut her hair and pray like a Quaker, which she hated. Pray like a Christian is like…  that's intergenerational trauma in my heart. She actually hid from the people who were working at the school and they had to tie her to a kitchen chair and cut her hair. I don't know if it was actually a kitchen chair, I just wanted to make a Leonard Cohen reference. Hey Alana, are you Jewish? Yes. But she really did enjoy learning how to read and write and to play the piano and the violin. She was given the name Gertrude Simmons, which is a footnote that will only come up at the very end of the story. In 1887, she returned to her mother's home but she felt like she didn't belong there. And this was a common theme among children who had been sent to these– massive air quotes– schools because they felt like they didn't really belong to their Indigenous culture but they also weren't really like the white Americans. In 1895, she enrolled at Earlham College for a teacher training program and then transferred to the New England conservatory to continue studying violin. In 1900, she became a music teacher at the Carlisle Indian School but left because it reminded her of her traumatic experiences at a similar school. She basically came to the realization, she was just like “oh shit, they are designed to take our culture from us.” She was like “I couldn’t be part of that anymore.” In 1901, she published Old Indian Legends, which was a compilation of all of her previous writings and culminated in a lifelong project of translating Sioux traditions into English, because this is a quote from her from the beginning of the book, “America in the last few centuries has acquired a second tongue,” which is so shady. And I love it. “Acquired a second tongue” is just like. Mm. So also in 1901 she went back to South Dakota and took a job at the United States Bureau of Indian Affairs, which I will refer to going forward as the B. I. A., where she met Captain Raymond Bonnin, who was also a Sioux, but I couldn't find what his like Sioux name was, since he was also full Sioux, but probably not Raymond. But then they did have a son and name him Raymond so I’m not sure.I don't know. They were transferred to Utah, where Zitkala-Sa taught again, but not at a white school, at a reservation school where the children lived at home and she found that like to be a balance. In 1910, she met William Hansen who was a music professor at Brigham Young University, and in 1913 they completed The Sun Dance Opera which was about a Sioux ritual that the federal government had banned, which I think is… What a workaround. What a way to beat the system. She viewed music as a way to bridge the cultures that she was a part of and it did, and that culminated in The Sun Dance Opera. She joined the Society of American Indians, which is a group that lobbied for citizenship for Indigenous people and cultural preservation because nuance. Which is a thing that I am feeling recently. Just nuance. Tattoo it on my forehead, shout it from the rooftops. Nuance. She became the secretary of the Society of American Indians and started interacting directly with the B. I. A. where her husband worked. She was very critical and vocal of their policies because they wanted her to pray like a Christian which– (frustration noises). The intergenerational trauma, she just– she do be jumping out. And her husband was fired. Was it because of her criticism of the B. I. A? Maybe? Who’s to say? I can't say, but maybe. But they moved to Washington DC, where she started giving lectures about cultural identity and continued her work with the Society of American Indians. She even was briefly the editor of American Indian magazine. In 1924 she became active in the General Federation of Women's Clubs, which was like a women's rights group but make it intentionally diverse. It was grassroots campaigns to support women of all backgrounds, and we simply have no choice but to stan.

Lexi: Intersectional feminism.

Alana: Intersectional feminism. We love it, we love to see it, we love to see intersectional feminism like in the twentieth century, before it was cool, if you will. She started a universal Indigenous movement that led to the passage of the 1924 Indian Citizenship Act which, as the name implies, gave Indigenous people citizenship but not necessarily the right to vote because that was still up to the states. In 1926, she co founded with her husband the National Council of American Indians to continue lobbying for the rights of Indigenous people. She died January 26, 1938 at the age of not quite sixty two and is buried in Arlington Cemetery with her husband. Her gravestone reads Gertrude Simmons and then Zitkala-Sa which makes me feel a little bit weird but at least it's on there. I don't know if she like had a choice what went on there but I think it's cool that it's on there. And she was the first Indigenous woman to write her own autobiography without the help of an editor or translator because she was just good at English. She was also very anti use of peyote, which is really interesting because she was like alcoholism on the reservations is a huge problem and so we need to like do something about our ingesting of substances. It’s like all these things are about nuance which is something that I'm again I'm feeling so so much about nuance. It's something that I've been working on in therapy for like three years. That's not true, for two years. That I'm just like we can have two things that coexist– that like it would be in everybody's best interest to be an American citizen, but that doesn't necessarily mean that all of these Native people have to abandon their rituals and their culture. It’s that whole melting pot thing which is such a like when you think about a kind of a weird image… put people in a melting pot. Anyway. That’s a fun note to end on. That’s all I have to say.

Lexi: I just want to add that I think I've mentioned this before on the podcast but I worked on a project at the Smithsonian Libraries called Women in America: Extra and Ordinary. I'm the one who suggested this lady because I thought Alana would like learning about this lady, and I just want to kind of talk about a little bit why I put her in the project. The thing that I love about her is that the Portrait Gallery has pictures of her that were taken when she was quite young. I believe in her twenties.

Alana: They’re gorgeous.

Lexi: And they're beautiful because they're so like real. Like–

Alana: I think my favorite one is– now that I've mentioned it Lexi, you probably have to use it in the graphic– but it's her having grown her hair back out with her violin.

Lexi: Yes.

Alana: And it's just like how it's like… Once you know the background of that, it's like this is how she combined these two cultures by like really enjoying playing the violin and also having her long traditional hair.

Lexi: She’s just so like… It's like she could be your friend. Like she’s just a real person. And so like, I don't know. They’re good pictures. Go look at her pictures.

Alana: Go to the show notes, look at the pictures, they’re great pictures.

Lexi: And– Okay, I think– Okay, this is the root of it. I think when you see pictures of Native peoples from that time, so many times it's like they're wearing like outfits that aren't even correct for their culture and they were forced to pose in like ridiculous like customized versions of their own culture. Like I've seen ones where people who weren’t Plains Indians were put in Plains Indians’ attire for pictures. But like she's just hanging out and I really like that. I just love her. So much.

Alana: She’s so cool.

Lexi: And her name means red bird.

Alana: And her name means red bird, and Lexi loves birds. Lexi loves birds.

(Turkeys gobbling)

Lexi: You can find this podcast on Twitter and Instagram at LadyHistoryPod. Our show notes and a transcript of this episode will be on ladyhistorypod dot tumblr dot com. If you like the show, leave us a review, or tell your friends, and if you don't like the show, keep it to yourself.

Alana: Our logo is by Alexia Ibarra, you can find her on Twitter and Instagram at LexiBDraws. Our theme music is by me, GarageBand, and Amelia Earhart. Lexi is doing the editing. You will not see us, and we will not see you, but you will hear us, next time on Lady History.

[OUTRO MUSIC]

Haley: Next week on Lady History, we're balling with some boss bitches. Get your bags of money ready, because we’re making it rain.

Lexi: Okay. All right.

Haley: Good night!

Alana: I gotta crawl out of my closet.

Lexi: Good night!

Alana: Good night I'll talk to you tomorrow!

Lexi: Bye bye.

[amarauder]

The Chinese Calendar ♆ Percy Jackson x Reader

                                           002. the chinese calendar

PAIRING; Percy Jackson x Reader

REQUEST; You hate him because you felt forgotten; you didn’t get the credit you deserved after helping him save the world. He knows that you hate him, but doesn’t know why, so he keeps bugging you to find out. You tell him and he apologizes, and you start talking, and somehow start liking/loving each other

DATE; March 20th, 2019

GODLY PARENT; Nemesis

TIME; After the Blood of Olympus

WORD COUNT; 9821

WARNING; Betrayal, angst, bad words,

A/N; I am so so sorry this took so freaking long. I just haven’t had the motiviation to write for Percy in a while. But I hope you like this piece of crap. I feel like I kept dragging it out because I didn’t know how to end it and believe me the ending is shit. But I swear to god if i look at this thing once more I am going to gauge my eyes out. so here it is. enjoy!

REQUESTED BY; KayzeeDamPotter_fan

TRAILER; in which a girl thought a boy forgot about her after he gains new popularity.

-

Step One: Let him believe you are friends again.

Drumming her fingers against the wooden table, Y/N waited. She shouldn’t have been too surprised at Rachel’s tardiness. The Sixteen-Year-Old couldn’t remember the last time her best friend had actually been on time.

Just as she was about to check her watch again, Rachel came in with a flurry of loud apologies and loose papers threatening to fall out of her arms. “It’s fine,” Y/N said waving the apology away, “I told you the time was fifteen minutes earlier than when I planned to arrive here. So, I wasn’t waiting too long.”

Rachel snorted, “You’re lucky I have even agreed to listen to this. You know if you are caught with your plans and they are in any way dangerous to Percy, I could be kicked out of camp for just knowing.”

“I’m not planning to kill him! Just mess with him a little, I won’t even be inflicting any pain on him.”

“Wow, that makes me feel so much better! Besides, I don’t even have a problem with him.” Rachel exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air being the usual over-dramatic person she is. She knew Rachel was lying, even it only was a minor white lie. No one could not hold a grudge towards a person after they rejected them.

Rolling her eyes and flashing Rachel a look, she grabbed her plans out and laid them in front of her. She didn’t have time for her dramatics but it was still fun to tell her off. “Oh, stop being dramatic.”

Rachel scoffed but she wasn’t even looking at Y/N anymore, instead, she was eyeing the title with interest. She was certainly proud of it, it was completely original. In bright red ink, the title bared the name of The Chinese Calendar.  "I’m the one being dramatic! You are the one basically planning someone’s murder all because you didn’t get credit over something that happened almost a year ago!“

"Hey! I’m Nemesis’ daughter for a reason. It’s in my blood. I almost can’t help it, it’s just instincts. And in my defense, you would be pissed off also if you risked your life for the brat several times all for nothing. Rach, I found the Lightning Bolt, I sailed through the Sea of Monsters, I helped them get Annabeth back from the clutches of Atlas, I survived the Labyrinth, and I fought in the First Titan War. The only thing I didn’t get to participate in was when they fought Luke up in Olympus! And that wasn’t even my fault! Percy forced me to stay in the Hotel! He locked me in a spare room! Do you remember? It’s just,” Y/N sighed, sometimes she had doubts about what she had been planning. The girl knew her plan was a little extreme just because she didn’t receive the credit she deserved. But she was tired of being seen as the girl who couldn’t finish the entire task, the girl who chickened out last minute, the girl who couldn’t run with the boy from the Great Prophecy when she couldn’t didn’t even have a choice. “I’m tired of watching them being idolized by everyone else when they won’t even look my way anymore. Even though I did basically just as much.”

Rachel was silent for a moment. Her eyes were staring holes into the label of the huge wad of paper. Y/N almost thought she wasn’t going to reply until she finally looked up from the desk. From just the look in her eyes, Y/N could tell she agreed with her but something was still holding her back. “Percy still talks to you. Gods, Y/N, I’ve never seen him put so much effort into talking to someone as much as he does with you. You should see the look on his face every time you walk away or ignore him. He looks crushed Y/N. I think you should maybe just talk to him about it first. He probably didn’t know what he did. You know how Percy is, he won’t realize anything until you spell it out for him.”

Y/N closed her eyes tightly, it was hard to breathe with the ever tightening of feeling coming from her chest. The feeling of guilt.

She had a feeling this would happen, she almost didn’t ask Rachel to look over her plan because of the risk of her talking Y/N out of it. But she couldn’t let that happen, not now, not when she had already delved into her plan. “Anyway,” she said, deciding it was now or never. She had to go through with it and if Rachel didn’t agree then so be it. She didn’t need anyone, especially someone on Percy’s side. “Let’s go over it, shall we? Unless you don’t want to of course.”

Rachel looked a bit hesitant but eventually nodded. Her eyes held so much worry, it almost made Y/N nervous. But she didn’t know why Rachel was worried, it wasn’t like she was the one performing the plan.

-

Surprisingly enough, Rachel had some great ideas and had even offered advice on how to trick him into believing her. After getting Rachel’s approval of the plan, she had gone to one of her siblings to double check. She loved Rachel but the girl was too virtuous for her own good. She had a feeling that Rachel would willingly lie to get her plan to fail.

Thankfully, Monica had dutifully agreed with her entire plan and hadn’t even asked a question on who she was planning revenge on. She shouldn’t have been too surprised though. Monica wasn’t one to delve into someone’s business.

After the plan had been fool-proofed down to the very date she estimated Y/N would be finished with the last task, Y/N felt relieved. It was like she could breathe again. The worst part was over, now she could relax.

The girl sighed contently, her feet kicking a rock as the air around her got chilly. Summer was creeping up on the campers slower than she would have normally liked. But today, she was thankful for the sharp spikes of the freezing wind felt refreshing on her face. Her face felt unusually flushed, she had a feeling it was from the adrenaline from knowing that she would be starting her plan.

“Y/N!” she distantly heard a voice behind her call but not quite registering it. However, the next time she heard the call of her name she saw a girl that she recognized was frequently around Piper. Turning around fully, she stopped in her step and waited for the girl to catch up to her.

“Hey, Lacy. What’s up?”

“There’s a fight going on.” She closed her eyes momentarily, cursing on the inside. Nemesis’ Scales, why was there always a fight going on when she was busy?

“Why?”

A knowing look crossed her features as she rolled her eyes, “Patrick,” she paused at Y/N’s change of facial expressions, “Yes, your brother. Patrick tried to attack Clarisse, again.”

“He’s going to get himself killed by Clarisse, not even monsters! That boy drives me crazy.” Y/N sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, “Where are all the other Camp Counselors?”

“They’re trying to get everyone to leave but no one seems to remember that Patrick is fighting Clarisse and that she’s twice the size of him.”

Lacy took off in a run and Y/N followed her towards the Arena.

Everyone in the Nemesis Cabin knew revenge was a dish best served cold, the saying had originated from their very own Mother. But instead of following in his Mother’s footsteps, Patrick, the idiot, had decided that taking on Clarisse would be a good start to his plan in order to finally get his own retribution.

As the Head of the Nemesis Cabin, one of the regulations on keeping the position was breaking up unnecessary fights. With a sigh, Y/N headed over to the center of the crowd with confident and calculated steps, making sure to give plenty of space between herself and Clarisse. No one wanted to trespass Clarisse’s personal space when she was in a fight. That was just signing off their death contract.

The crowd seemed to part for Y/N, as if everyone thought Y/N was going to take over Patrick’s pathetic excuse for a fight. It seemed that was what Clarisse hoped for that too as she looked over at the girl while her boot slowly crushed Patrick’s chest.

“Well, well, well, if isn’t Senior L/N.” Clarisse mocked her bandana swinging in the air as she looked down on Y/N’s little brother, “Is your big sister coming to save you, baby Patrick?”

Y/n rolled her eyes and sighed, she didn’t have time for this. She was already late to her class and she knew Will wasn’t one to go easy on her. She supposed she deserved it though. Plus, there was also the fact that she needed to mentally prepare herself for tomorrow.

“Grow up, Clarisse,” Y/N snarked, “It’s about time for you to actually mature. By Nemesis, act your age.”

“Well hello to you too, Jesus.”

With a quirked eyebrow, she stared at the older girl quizzically questioning what was actually going on in her mind. “I’m sorry, what?”

Clarisse rolled her eyes and scrunched up her nose as if someone had just placed dung under it, “Now you’re wasting my time, L/N. I was just implying how goody-goody you are.” [ a/n; do you guys get it or no? haha, i thought it was creative but probably not… ]

Staring at her for a few seconds as if to question her sanity, Y/N sighed and placed her hands on her hips, “Just let my brother go. Do you really want Kitchen Duty, again?”

Surprisingly, Clarisse lessened her hold on Patrick just enough for him to swipe at the back of her knee. Clarisse was sent tumbling down and Patrick quickly pressed his blade to her throat, “Ha! How does it feel to get your ass kicked by a thirteen-year-old?”

“Patrick! No!” Y/N shouted, running towards him before getting held back an invisible force. She looked behind her to see the last person she wanted here behind her. Percy Jackson smiled at her reassuringly, and went to loosen his grip on her shirt when she started to thrash around. She couldn’t let this of all things ruin her plan. She had spent the entire school year on this, but how was she supposed to pretend when her brother was about to be crushed by Clarisse? Everyone knew how quickly Y/N would fall into the grips of anxiety when a loved one was hurt. Hell, Percy had witnessed it first hand.

The horrible memory must have triggered her anxiety as she only started to flail about more. Attempting to wrestle out of his grip, she growled as he gripped her shoulder with his other hand. “Wow, wow, wow, calm down, tiny nightmare.”

Rolling her eyes at the smirking boy in front of her, she hit him in the gut causing him to back away from her with a belch. “I told you not to call me that, Jackson.” She had a feeling that Step One was going to be a little harder than she had anticipated.

Clarisse was now turned towards her with her boot resting on top of Patrick’s chest again. She wondered how she had gotten him held down so quickly, especially since she had only been talking to Percy for a few seconds. Her heart hammered in her chest as she ran towards Clarisse blindly.

Y/N hadn’t been a chosen demi-god, one who had their very own weapon. She liked to be able to use anything and turn it into a weapon. The item could be a blade of grass to a mascara wand and she could figure out a way to injure her opponent with it.

Her original plan had been to just tackle Clarisse down to the floor, but it seemed Clarisse had also become aware of her presence-something Y/N hadn’t considered. Just as she was about to jump, she somehow stopped herself. Everyone knew by now, Clarisse’s electric spear could stop traffic.

She slid on the floor and grabbed a rather pointy rock. It wouldn’t do much, but it was better than dust. However, before she could do any damage, a piercing scream hit her ears. The second the sound hit her ears she wanted to throw up. The sound was nauseating, but the worst part was the familiarity of the scream.

Spinning around so quickly Y/N had to shake off any dizziness she felt. Her mind was in a flurry coming up with the worst case scenarios, but none of them could have prepared them for this. Clarisse’s spear was stuck in Patrick’s leg.

She was falling.

Arms picked her up.

Chiron was shouting.

Someone was guiding her towards the infirmary.

She was trembling.

Dust was picking up with each step.

People were staring.

Patrick was screaming.

-

It was weird how sometimes everything would melt into a blur. How memories would melt together until it would all become one, or how Y/N would catch herself walking and end up somewhere when she didn’t even know how she had gotten there.

“He’ll be alright,” Will said from next to her, she almost jumped. Y/N had forgotten he was there. “You should be thankful Percy was there, otherwise I don’t think Patrick would still have his leg.”

Y/N nodded, her heart was still hammering and the guilt was getting stronger every second. How was she supposed to keep a level head and continue on with her plan even though she knew she owed him he sanity. Y/N didn’t want to know what would happen to her if she had to watch her brother suffer through the loss of a leg.

“Percy wants to talk to you, by the way. I’ll let him in once you’re ready.” Will said as he stood up to leave. He still had some of Patrick’s blood on his clothes. He knew Y/N wouldn’t answer. The poor girl had been staring blankly for the past four hours.

“I’m ready,” Y/N said once she heard the door squeak open, her head turned towards Will. He was more surprised to see her eyes looking at him than hearing him talk to her. “You can let him in if you change. Blood isn’t a good look for you.”

It was silent for a little bit, both of them just staring at each other, trying to gauge what the other’s next move was. It was only when a hint of a smirk landed on Y/N’s features that Will knew it was okay to laugh and boy he did. If only it wasn’t a nervous laugh.

-

She heard him before she saw him. Percy looked exhausted, his hair was disheveled and his eyes were lidded. His yawn only further proved it. Somehow that didn’t stop him from being an ass.

He sat down next to her, clumsily. The boy was not nimble whatsoever, the one flaw she could

“Thank you,” Y/N said quietly, her fingers were playing with a necklace wound around her neck, “I don’t know what I would have done if Patrick would have lost his leg.”

She felt Percy’s gaze on her but didn’t move her gaze from a girl and a boy playing tag. She wanted to continue, to really show how thankful she was but the stubborn part of her was stopping herself from saying anymore.

“So this is all I have to do for you to talk to me? I just have to save your little brother.” Percy scoffed and shook his head. Y/N decided it might be a good idea to meet his gaze. “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.”

However, the second he looked at her Y/N turned away. Her heart was beating too fast, everything was just too fast. Her plan was going to fail. How was she going to be able to continue on when she owed him so much? All that time wasted planning revenge she didn’t even get to start. It was almost making her mad, the fact that he had the ability to change her mind in a second. Her brother couldn’t even succeed in that department. What gave him the right to be able to do that? Nemesis, she had never wanted to hit more than now. “Don’t thank me either. Poseidon knows how many times you have saved me. It’s only right for me to repay you somehow.”

She felt like she had been slapped in the face, as if someone had chosen a cruel way to get her out of a daydream. Her Father used to have moments like these, were reality struck him all at once. It seemed the gene had been passed down to her. She could continue on with her plan. Afterall, a leg can’t even compare to a life. Can it?

She felt kind of guilty continuing on with her plan at a time like this. Especially, deciding to start her first step, but she didn’t know if she would ever be able to have this oppurtunity with him again. Percy was slowly opening up and becoming emotional. What better way to build a ‘new friendship’ than sympathizing with him and maybe asking for a new start. But that was only if she was feeling risky.

“You finally got tired of it, didn’t you?”

Percy looked up shocked, he looked like he was trying to guage what she was thinking at the moment but she didn’t give him the time of day. She couldn’t not when she could easily give in and spill her secrets. Rachel had sugested that, but that only fueled her fire. The need to prove Rachel wrong was more important that her morals at the moment.

In fact the way he was looking at her was irritating. Almost like ants were crawling all over her body but there was nothing she could do to swat them.

“Got tired of what?”

“Got tired of me ignoring you.”

Percy shrugged, “I think I was just shocked that you actually talked to me and not in a condescending way.”

Y/N tried to keep her giggles inside, but they managed to get out somehow. She knew she shouldn’t have started laughing. It was just one of those situations, like a funeral or a test where you knew you shouldn’t be laughing, but she couldn’t help it. Percy started to laugh too which only made her laugh harder. She was rather confused on what they were even laughing at in the first place. His comment was more sad than funny.

Once they finally calmed down, and Y/N was breathing evenly enough to speak, she spoke. “Why were you laughing?”

“I can’t help it, your laugh is so contagious. Even your smile is, you smile with your eyes and it’s hard not to smile back.”

Looking at him weirdly, she wondered what the hell he was babbling on about. But it seemed Percy didn’t know either as he resembled a putter fish about to blow. She didn’t have the heart to ask him what he meant. Y/N didn’t want to make his ears redder than they already were, she had her fair share of experiences with Valdez. Flirting and blushing didn’t mix well with the poor boy.

“Umm, thanks.” She saw Percy nod in her peripheral vision, but his posture was too stiff to be comfortable while nodding. She was surprised he didn’t pull a muscle when he moved his head. Looking back on it, Y/N almost wished he did, then maybe her plan would have actually succeeded.

“I’m sorry.”

“About what?” he asked, he was looking where she had been earlier. The two children had changed games and were now playing leapfrog.

She sighed, this was a lot harder than she had thought. How could she apologize for something, when she didn’t even know what she had done wrong. “For everything, I shouldn’t have treated you that way, especially after all we had experienced together.”

“It’s alright. I suppose I understand. Annie had put it in perspective for me.”

He was such an idiot.

The apology had been going so well. Then he had to mention her. Y/N had liked Annabeth Chase before the incident, in fact they had been good friends. But then she just had to start rubbing it in Y/N’s face, about how she had 'chickened out’ and how she just couldn’t keep up with the rest of them. It boiled Y/N’s blood to no end.

Taking in a deep breath, she attempted to calm herself down. Y/N couldn’t lose her temper now. Not when she was so ready to start her plan. “That’s good.” Y/N choked out, her voice sounded hoarse and Y/N was praying that Percy didn’t notice.

She felt her nails dug into her palms as she tried to think of what to say to make this situation better. She opened her mouth right when Percy did, causing them both to start chuckling awkwardly.

“You go first,” Percy said with a gesture.

Y/N shook her head, she did not want to go first. It was like confessing your secret crush to the person you liked, it could go both ways. You could either get rejected or be in a relationship with the person you want to be with. But instead, Y/N was only risking her pride and her whole entire plan all in one question. She felt that this was more nerve racking than any other kind of rejection. “Fine, I’ll go first.” She said when Percy shook his own and refused to speak. She breathed a shaky sigh and closed her eyes, Percy could finally see how nervous she was and Y/N realized that she was in fact scared. “I don’t know if this is moving too fast. But do you… Do you maybe want to try our friendship again? It’s just a suggestion, but I’d really love it if you’d consider it and you don’t have to answer now. Take as many days as you want to think it over.”

Percy started to laugh and Y/N’s heart sunk. Nemesis, she really was acting like a twelve year old with a crush. She pursed her lips and turned around so Percy couldn’t see her tears of frustration. Her face felt hot of embarrassment. She had never wanted to cringe at herself more in her entire life. “You know, just because you think the idea is ridiculous doesn’t mean you have to laugh.” She shut her eyes again, but regretted it a few seconds later when she felt the tears she had been trying so hard to hold in fell. All that time wasted planning for something that didn’t even get past Step One.

“Wait, no,” Percy said and raised his hand to put around her shoulder when he heard her sniff and hastily wipe her face. Percy was alarmed. He knew first hand how hard it was to make Y/N cry, but here she was crying over a rejection that Percy didn’t even mean to make. “Y/N, I would love to try to be friends with you again. I was laughing because I was going to ask you the same thing.”

Y/N turned around and gave him the dirtiest look she had ever given him (and there’s been a lot of dirty looks). “Nemesis, you are so annoying, fish poop.”

“Fish poop? That’s a new one.” Percy nudged her with his elbow and scooted closer to her, “Come here, I haven’t hung out with you in forever and you haven’t experienced my improvement in hugging.”

Y/N snorted, reminiscing the memory. Percy and her had been young, around 12 or 13 and they had just escaped the Cyclops when Percy had hugged her. He had always been a good hugger, but Y/N had refused to admit it at the time and still liked to tease him about it.

Shaking her head, she laughed, “I still can’t believe you hugged me then got blasted off the cliff by a Cyclops. I thought you were dead and felt way too guilty about those words being the last words I ever said to you.”

“Ya, what the hell was that, tiny nightmare! I finally build up the courage to hug you and you reject me.” Percy clicked his tongue at the girl and brought her closer with one arm while he poked her in the stomach with the other. Y/N squirmed at the contact but then rolled her eyes and rested her head on Percy’s shoulder. She could almost hear Rachel’s taunting voice in her head, teasing her about how she should have just talked to him about what she felt. But it was too late now, she had to continue on even though she almost didn’t want too.

-

Step Two: Make him trust you.

Fridays were at Camp were scary. Everyone was always watching their backs for some Ares kid gone rogue or an Athena child deciding that 'you’ are somehow the reason why their plan isn’t working.

After a rather interesting accident between an Ares kid [ it’s always them, isn’t it? ] and one of Y/N’s siblings, she had taken refuge in the Iris Cabin. Rachel was staying there for the Summer as Chiron had finally given into Dionysus’ wishes and had asked some Hephaestus and Aphrodite kids to help rebuild and decorate the Big House. But Y/N secretly really enjoyed the Iris Cabin, it was much brighter and prettier than her own cabin. Plus, there were less threats being thrown around and-as selfish as this sounded-Patrick wasn’t around to whine about her not playing with him.

Knocking on the door, she waited for a quick second before pressing her ear against the wood. It was better to be safe than sorry, right? Afterall, this was a camp full of horny teenagers with beds. How did no one else see that this was a bad idea?

“Y/N?” She heard someone behind her. She felt her face heat up rapidly, how was she going to dodge questions about this? It was such an awkward situation to be in, yet alone converse about it.

It’s not like they wouldn’t ask questions either, they were bound to be confused. Groaning on the inside, she reluctantly turned.

“Do I even want to know what you were doing?” Percy asked, she was surprised to hear the amused tone in his voice.

Y/N almost scowled before she felt her face get warmer as she shook her head. No way in hell would she tell Percy Jackson what she was doing. Sure, they may be 'friends’ but that didn’t mean she liked him.

The porch situation had just been a moment of weakness, but it didn’t help her conscience any less. Y/N had been worrying about it all night, but she had convinced herself that she had just been in a weak emotional state and had taken in any comfort she could.

Because it wasn’t like she could actually like him?

She almost laughed at the thought. “What do you need?”

“What am I not aloud to see my new-no, not new. What the hell is our friendship even called?”

Y/N snorted, “If only you knew.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” she said with a shake of her head, “I know you well enough, kelp head. What is it that you need?”

“I heard that the Nemesis cabin is partnered up with Poseidons’ for Capture the Flag and was wondering if you wanted to help spy on the Athena Cabin with me?”

Turning back to the Iris Cabin longingly, she wondered how much longer she needed for her plan to work. She didn’t know how much longer she could stand Percy’s presence.

She was about to reject him when an image of Annabeth and Percy kissing in the labyrinth popped into her head and suddenly she was nodding vigorously.

Percy grinned, blindingly and suddenly her actions hit her all at once. She needed to stop these stupid, thoughtless decisions. It was going to ruin her plan and all that hard work could not go to waste because some emotions got in the way.

She had already screwed up in the infirmary, she was just lucky it turned out alright.

“So,” Percy said as he threw an arm around her shoulders and brought her closer. She prayed to Nemesis that Percy couldn’t hear her heartbeat where he was because it was too loud for her comfort. “Does tiny nightmare, have a plan for tonight?”

“Yes, she does. Hiding inside the Iris Cabin with Rachel and praying to the Gods that no Ares kid finds them.”

Percy guffawed, then realized she wasn’t joking and stared at her for a few seconds, “Wait, have you been playing in the last few games?”

Y/N shook her head, “No, I stopped after the war.”

Percy opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it and turned forwards. It felt weird not feeling the comforting presence on her side, but she didn’t know why. She hadn’t been within a three foot radius of him since last year, yet after a few minutes the distance felt weird.

“You shouldn’t let fear control your life.” Percy looked so uncharacteristically serious, she almost forgot it was him talking.

“Oh,Yeah? When did you become so prophetic, kelp head?”

-

She had forgotten how boring Capture the Flag could be. The Nemesis Cabin had lost the coin toss between the Apollo Cabin and now Y/N and her siblings were stuck guarding the flag along with some other cabins.

She really regretted coming out tonight.

Percy had forgotten about her the second he called their team in for planning. She was bitterly reminded of yesteryear.

Covering her eyes from the sun, she tried to blink away the green glare. She was still in shock of what had happened earlier. How could she have been so stupid? She had warmed up to Percy and obviously there were consequences.

Y/N was surprised at herself. She had forgotten about one little knot in her plan.

Y/N still cared for Percy.

It was weird how she hadn’t considered it before. She supposed she had been so blinded by anger the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind.

But it still didn’t make the situation any better. Now she was going to have to work extra hard to make her plan work. Y/N was going to make herself hate him. But she didn’t know how.

How do you hate someone you still care about?

Almost laughing out loud at herself, she shook her head. Why was she even continuing on with the plan in the first place?

'Just because you care about him doesn’t mean he cares about you,’ a little voice in her head said. 'Wasn’t he the one who left you behind? If he cared about you he wouldn’t leave you. But look where he is now, not with you.’

“Y/N?” A hand waved in front of her face, she groaned and shook her head. Everything was so blurry and along with that she had a major headache. She turned her head to see a Hypnos kid, she distantly remembered him as Clovis. “Hey, you fell asleep. You are a heavy sleeper. I’m surprised you didn’t wake up from the screams and shouts from the Blue team. I can’t even sleep through that and that’s saying something.”

They won. Oh nemesis, and Y/N had slept through it. How had she slept through it?

Clovis asked her something else, but she only nodded. Y/N needed to find Rachel. Rachel was surprisingly good at remembering her dreams and she was hoping that maybe she could help her remember hers.

“Ya, ya, thanks Clovis.” She said while getting up, “I gotta go, right now. But I’ll see you later, ya?”

Running towards the pavilion, she dodged campers heading to either their cabins or their daily activities. She sighed impatiently as two girls in front of her walked exceptionally slow, they were talking about something ridiculous that she would have laughed at if she didn’t want to find Rachel.

“Y/N! Hey! Y/N!” Turning around, she saw Patrick run up to her with the biggest grin she had ever seen. He had the flag wrapped around his shoulders which could only mean one thing. “Where were you? Did you hear? I can’t believe I did that. I kicked Clarisse’s butt! You should have seen her face! It was the funniest thing I had ever seen.”

Y/N felt herself unconsciously smile as he went on and on about how he heroically saved the Blue Team from losing. After hearing for the third time how he snatched the flag from right under Clarisse’s nose, her mind started to wonder. She saw Lacy talking with on Patrick’s friends, two naiads bickering over who’s trees were cleaner, but then she spotted Percy receiving pats on the backs from other boys.

If it were any other situation Y/N wouldn’t have cared. But it was the way they were all acting, it reminded her way too much of the day after the war. The day Y/N’s life flipped upside down.

Pretending to listen to Patrick about whatever he was babbling on about now, she caught a bit of their conversation as they walked past.

He hadn’t even noticed her, again.

“Bro, that was such a good save.”

Percy laughed, “Calling everyone bro isn’t going to pick up chicks.”

“Shut the hell up, man. Why’d you give all that credit to that kid. He didn’t do anything, just grabbed the flag and ran it back.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, she felt like she had just been slapped in the face. Her stomach was in her mouth and everything was blurred together like some kind of painting, except the brush strokes were all wrong. Everything about the painting was wrong.

“Y/N,” she heard her brother call, but he sounded further away as if she was stuck in a fish tank and he was on the other side. “Y/N, are you alright?”

A whimper left her mouth, not again. The flashbacks couldn’t start again. She needed to sit down.

Twirling around, she ran into people as she searched frantically for ground that wasn’t covered with people. Everything was just happening too fast. People were calling her name or yelling when she bumped into them. She swore she heard Percy call her name worriedly, but that to have been just her imagination.

Finally finding a grassy area where no people were, she fell onto her knees on it. Panting on her hands and feet, she gasped for air. She felt as if she was going to throw up but she couldn’t, she wasn’t. Y/N wasn’t sick.

Gripping the grass between her hands, she tried to calm herself down. She took in deep breaths and focused on the feeling on the dirt and grass on her skin, the sun warming her up.

After repeating those steps a few times, she finally confident enough to sit against the tree trunk next to her without throwing up. But when she tried to move, she felt a hand holding up her hair and another hand steadily stroking her back. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and almost kicked the person behind her in self defense. But then she realized that a monster couldn’t get in the border and most certainly, would not be trying to calm her down.

Turning around, she saw Percy kneeling down next to her. The second she saw him she almost jumped away. The sick feeling was back again.

“Are you alright?”

Staring at him in disgust for a few moments, she wondered how he lived with himself. How could he be so selfish to willingly take people’s credit? Nemesis, she needed to get away from him. His presence was making her skin crawl.

But she couldn’t say anything now, not when her plan was going to well.

“What’s wrong?”

Gods, she was done with the plan. She was done with him. Y/N just wanted it to be over and to never have to see him again. “I hate you.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I hate you and I want you to get away from me right now.”

Percy was silent for longer than she had thought. Rolling her eyes, she pushed him away. “It shouldn’t take you that long to process it. I’ve told you many times before.”

“But-”

“Nuh, uh, uh,” she shook a finger at him, “No buts. Just go away and leave me alone.”

“Wait, but Y/N-”

“Did you not hear me before? I want you to leave.” When he didn’t leave, she sighed dramatically and tried to calm her shaking fingers. If he didn’t leave in a few seconds she was going to start crying and she was not going to cry in front of him. “Nemesis, you’re like an annoying fly that I can’t shoo away.”

Percy almost laughed but looked so hurt it didn’t even sound like one. Guilt climbed up into her throat and started to choke her.

Then he left. Just like that, within a blink of an eye he got up and started to walk away.

-

Step Three: Give him what he deserves.

Y/N had a weird choice of music. She liked to listen to any song-as long as there was the sound of rain in the background. It didn’t matter if it was actually raining and she decided to open her window ( no matter how much her siblings complained ) or it was playing on her phone.

It was actually weird how any song could go with the sound of rain. Y/N could be listening to Classical Music to 80s Alternative to Hard Metal Rock, but somehow it all just flowed.

Giggling to herself, she turned around in her bed and attempted to fall asleep again. Y/N had gone to bed early that night. She had accidentally fell asleep crying around 5, missing dinner in the process but feeling better than she had in awhile. It was like a load of stress had just melted off her shoulders.

Patrick was sleeping next to her. They had moved their beds beside each other when he hurt his leg. Y/N remembered doing it when they were younger, before they had known they were demigods, when things were more simple. Patrick would sometimes sneak into her bed late at night. He would try to be as quiet and graceful as he could, but he somehow would always wake her up. Sometimes they would play cards under the candles Y/N bought and placed around her room during her witch phase.

However, for the past week, it had been Y/N initiating their sleeping circumstances.

Y/N had made an excuse about her being worried about her little brother being injured, but she had a feeling Patrick knew the truth. Afterall, the entire Camp had heard about what had gone down between Y/N and Percy.

The girl sighed and turned back around, she could not find a comfortable sleeping position for the life of her. It got to the point where she had moved so much that Patrick had complained and Y/N had forced herself to stay still even though she could feel her arm going numb.

However, it seemed that whenever she felt like she was about to fall asleep, a noise outside would wake her up. The first time, it had been someone talking too loudly with someone else. She wondered how the furies didn’t catch them.

The second time, it was someone cursing followed by something heavy falling in a bush. Sitting up, she popped her ears popping that would somehow improve her hearing.

Allegedly, it didn’t and Y/N was left with wondering who would be trying to climb up the Nemesis Cabin. She debated waking Patrick up, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. He would probably only run around and wake up other campers which would only make Chiron or Dionysus mad.

Still debating in her head, she moved her head back and forth before finally getting up with a whimper. She did not want to die today. Y/N felt like she was in some murder mystery, but she was the dumbass who died first going to check out the murderer.

Her room was dark. Splaying her hands out in front of her, she walked towards her window like a zombie. She heard her heartbeat ram against her chest in distress as she glanced back at Patrick. Maybe she should have woken him up.

Shaking her head but stopping in her steps anyway; she wondered how she was going to get back without falling-especially if there was a killer on the loose.

A banging on the window brought her out of her thoughts. Freezing in her steps, she looked back at Patrick again. This was ridiculous. She was a demi-god, for Pete’s sake. Not just a demi-god, but Nemesis’ daughter at that.

When Y/N was a few feet away from the window, she forced her feet to stay put but leaned forward so her hands could unlock the window. She looked like a banana with arms.

However, just as she was about to unlock the window, it opened itself. Flinching away, she almost jumped five feet in the air, resembling a kangaroo. Too bad her landing wasn’t as graceful. She landed on her but, scrambling away from the window.

A figure climbed through and Y/N thought she was about to cry. Her eyes scanned the room, wildly, looking for anything to defend herself with. “What the hell are you doing on the floor?”

A breath Y/N didn’t know she was holding escaped her once she recognized the voice. Her hands were still shaking and she was sure the adrenaline wouldn’t leave for a while but Y/N couldn’t bring herself to care. She was too occupied with wondering what the hell Percy Jackson was doing in her room. Especially since their last encounter ended just as badly as she had anticipated.

“Would you be quiet?” Y/N harshly whispered, and stood up. “Patrick is still sleeping. But why I am on the floor is none of your concern.”

Y/N knew Percy enough to know he didn’t believe her but she couldn’t care less. Sighing and shaking her head, she turned back to her bed. Y/N had already had a big scare tonight, she didn’t need anymore drama. Besides, who the hell climbed into someone’s room at 3 in the morning. She was sure whatever Percy needed to discuss could wait until the morning. “Is anyone hurt?”

“No.”

“Dead.”

“What? No.”

“Shh,” Y/N finally turned around to face him, “Then what are you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you.”

“And it couldn’t wait until the morning?”

“Obviously.”

“Well, I think it can wait.” Y/N gave him a sarcastic smile, she was so done with him. She had told him how she felt and he didn’t even have the audacity to listen to her. Nemesis, she wasn’t even surprised.

“Well, I don’t think it can.” Percy said and grabbed her arm, forcing her to turn towards him. It was the first time she had seen his face since last week and she didn’t feel any remorse. Her eyes narrowed and her lips picked up into a sneer but he didn’t even flinch.

Gods, she hated him.

Why couldn’t he be like everyone else and leave her alone when she made it obvious that she didn’t enjoy their company. Before she disliked him, she had enjoyed his persistence to be her friend. But now more than ever, she hated it.

She didn’t want to have anything to do with him. Her plan had already failed and they would never be friends again. “Come on, revenge expert, you know how stubborn I am. Either we talk or I’m not leaving your room.”

Staring at him like he was crazy-he was-for a few seconds, she looked around the cabin. Her siblings were still all sleeping soundly somehow and she really didn’t want to wake anyone up. Nemesis, knew what they would do to her if anyone woke up. “Fine, but can we talk somewhere else?”

He cocked his head to the side and looked to be debating something inside his head before he finally shrugged. Leading the way, she had to pretend to know that she wasn’t stumbling and stepping over random things gracefully. Pride can be a dangerous thing.

The nighttime air was surprisingly warm that night which Y/N was thankful for. The conversation would have been much, much worse if she had to stand outside with the looming thoughts of furies overhead while suffering through a very awkward conversation.

Nemesis, she was still debating if she should lie to him.

“Alright, Jackson. What did you need to discuss?”

“Why do you hate me?” Raising her eyebrows, she did her best to seem surprised at the question. Y/N knew had seen it coming after the discussion they had earlier that week but she still couldn’t think of how to answer his question without giving the truth away.

Shuffling her feet and looking down, she avoided eye contact. She couldn’t bare to look at him while she was talking-and she had to answer soon. Feeling her muscles tense up when she couldn’t think of anything, she thought of the best excuse she could within a span of a few seconds. “Umm, I-Listen, Percy. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, truly,” she added when he gave her a look. “I just… I had gotten mad at something and I had taken it out on you. I’m so sorry. It was entirely unfair of me to get mad at you for something you hadn’t even been apart of.”

Biggest lie of the last millennia. Gods, she could practically feel her nose growing a few more inches.

Percy went silent for a few minutes. It only made her feel more nervous as time went on. He looked almost disappointed by what she had said, as if she were a child telling their parent that the cat had knocked over the glass vase and broke it-not them. “Rach told me everything.”

Staring at him blankly, she tried to process what he had said. It was like her brain had been super glued and the only way for it to work was moving.

She froze then started moving all at once. Bumbling profusely, and moving to run away from him Percy caught her just in time and brought her to his chest.

“Leave me alone! Let me go!” She started to pound his chest and kick as much as she could but he only held onto her tighter. Sobs racked her chest but she felt as if a huge load had suddenly been lifted off her shoulders. It was purely exhausting trying to fight him, but she didn’t stop. “Let me go! I hate you!” But soon her shouts slurred together and her fighting slowed down.

She was just so tired.

Especially after she realized Percy was trying to comfort her. He had been rocking her back and forth while petting her hair. She felt oddly like a child.

Her breathing slowed down as she let herself sob into his chest and hug him back. “I hate you. I hate you so much.”

Percy didn’t say anything, he only started to rub her back.

-

A MONTH LATER

Y/N couldn’t remember the last time her and Percy had talked but she was finding that she preferred it that way. They would occasionally bump into each other and it seemed Percy would want to say something, but Y/N would be too busy almost falling over air to try to get away from him to notice.

Rachel had tried to get them to mend their friendship, but Y/N was way too embarrassed to even look at him. She didn’t understand, Rachel had never understood.

Sighing contentedly, she placed down her cards, “Sorry, Rach. Straight in diamonds. Read them and weep.”  

“What the hell?” Rachel whined throwing her hands up in the air, “How are you so good at cards?”

Y/N looked at her weirdly and scoffed, “I live year-round in a pro-longed Summer Camp with no technology. What do you think I do during the school year. Homework?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. If I saw you actually work for something I think I would die of shock.”

Gasping in mock outrage, she placed an offended hand to her chest, “I would say something witty if it weren’t true. But I can’t think of anything.”

Rachel snorted and threw a pillow at Y/N, almost knocking her off the bed to the point where half of her body was hanging off. “Oh Gods, help me! I’m going to fall of the bed and die!”

Rachel started to laugh, “You can’t even work when you are about to die, eh?”

“Shut the hell up, firetruck and help me get up!”

Rachel only tried to push her off more when the door opened and in came Butch Walker. The poor boy was more than confused but chose not to say anything, which Y/N was thankful for-especially when she fell on the floor.

“Hey,” he paused once he grabbed his sweatshirt and was on his way out, “Do you wanna go to the bonfire with the rest of us? The Iris Cabin gets to roast marshmallows tonight and we could sneak you a s'more.”

Y/N looked at a sniggering Rachel who nodded but laughed harder in return and Y/N grabbed the pillow and threw it at her. “Sure, Walker. We’ll be out in a second. I need to grab a jacket and make sure Rachel gets out without falling over laughing.”

Rachel stuck her tongue out at her friend while Butch laughed quietly, “Sure thing.”

-

The air outside was way too chilly for Summer, a stark reminder that Fall was coming. The jacket she had grabbed was a zip-up hoodie, the kind that always seemed to stick out in the worst places and Rachel had plenty of fun poking at it.

Swatting her hand away for what seemed like the 20th time, Y/N bumped her hip, “Wanna go swimming tomorrow? I bought a new swimsuit at the Camp Store and it-”

“Does it actually fit this time?”

“Shut up,” Y/N said and pushed her. The last swimsuit she had bought had been a little too small and the top had fallen off when she had jumped off the dock. It hadn’t been as embarrassing as it seemed as no one else but Rachel had been in the water-thank the Gods. But Y/N still hasn’t found the missing suit to this day.

Y/N had had a amazing retort in mind, but the words had lay forgotten once she saw the scene in front of her. Percy was being held up by a bunch of boys from the Hephaestus Cabin and shouting.

She had forgotten it was Friday. His team must have won Capture the Flag. She made a mental note to ask Patrick who had won and made a bee-line too the fire pit. Grabbing Rachel’s hand so she wouldn’t lose her in the crowd, she tried to get through the massive crowd of Campers. Nemesis, they smelled.

“Rach, do you see Butch?” Y/N stood on her tippy-toes to try to see over the heads of kids but she couldn’t see a thing.

“Yeah, hold on,” she said and ducked under an arm. Y/N was forced to follow and could only briefly apologize to the people she bumped into before she was pulled away.

“Y/N! Wait, Y/N!” Y/N turned around at the mention of her name to see Percy making his way towards her. Her eyes widened and she turned around quickly, passing a confused Rachel and now pulling her towards the Camp fire.

Fortunately, Percy hadn’t caught up to them in time and Y/N made it to the fire in record time. She stole a roasted marshmallow from Butch, who looked mildly offended but only poked her with the stick.

“He never says anything, haven’t you noticed?” Y/N asked and nodded towards Butch. Rachel only shrugged as she snagged a bar of chocolate and handed a piece to Y/N.

Feeling a poke behind her, she expected to see Butch but only saw a grinning Patrick. He quickly hugged his sister, something that he didn’t normally do. Y/N raised her eyebrows but didn’t say anything and hugged him back. His leg hadn’t healed fully yet, Will had gave him crutches and a cast. The former not with him which was probably the reason as to why he was holding onto her.

“What’s up, little Y/N?” Rachel said with a grin that Patrick only shyly glanced away at. He had had a crush on Rachel since they had met. It was the most hilarious thing to watch, especially when he tried to show off.

“Y/N, I need to show you something.”

“Now?”

“Yes, come on. Rachel can come.” Nemesis, he didn’t know how bad he had it. He had a bad habit of smiling every time he said her name or someone else did.

“Just follow the kid.” She had a soft spot for him too.

Patrick lead her further into the crowd, it was only once they were in the very front did she see what was happening. Percy, and some other campers were up on the stage where Apollo kids usually led the camp songs.

Looking at Rachel, she wondered what the hell was going on when she remembered what the date was. It had been a full year since the war. Nemesis, she was surprised she hadn’t noticed or that no one had said anything.

After a few more minutes of waiting, they finally got everyone’s attention. “Hello, everyone!” Percy started by stepping forward, “As we all know, today is the anniversary of the Titan War.”

After Percy spoke of the tragedies of the war and reminded everyone about the bravery of these very young kids, other campers spoke about those they lost which was followed by a few minutes of silence.

Y/N looked around to see the younger campers getting antsy and Y/N was proud to see Patrick condoling a younger one. “Thank you for those few moments of silence. Percy will now announce a new Camp Tradition we will start today so that we can forever be reminded of our fellow heroes.”

Y/N started to blank out, it was getting harder and harder to concentrate with each word and she found her mind wandering about the most random stuff. It could be about what they were doing tomorrow, or if there were any marshmallows left, or how fun it would be to yell in a microphone.

However, she was brought out of her thoughts when she heard her name being called and people cheering. Y/N was pushed by Rachel and then she was walking up to the stage.

“Percy,” she whispered once she was next to him, “What are you doing.”

“Giving you the credit you deserve.” he said and walked back up to the microphone, “Y/N is one of the most courageous, kindest, and skilled person I know. She has been at my side since the beginning. We found the lightning bolt, sailed the Sea of Monsters, held the sky together, survived the Labrinth, and fought in the Titan War.” Y/N couldn’t pay attention after that, she was too busy smiling. She felt warm all over as if someone had placed a blanket over her.

She couldn’t stop smiling, even hours later and the campers were finishing up the Camp song. She felt Rachel nudge her side, but she didn’t want to bask in Rachel’s smugness. She needed to find Percy.

Snaking through the crowd, she found him sitting and talking to Grover on a bench. Percy didn’t notice her presence until, Grover got up and bid his goodbyes. He had a knowing look on his face and Y/N wanted to laugh. She had missed him.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Can I sit?” Percy nodded and drew something in the dirt with a stick that still had marshmallow goop on it.

“Thank you for what you did. It meant a lot.”

“I meant it all. You deserved it and I’m sorry for not noticing it before.”

“It’s alright.” Y/N said with a laugh, “Gods, this is awkward, isn’t it?”

“You think?”

“I just, it’s weird. I don’t understand you at all. I told you I hated you and then you go and do this for me.”

“But you had a legit reason to hate me.”

“Ya, you’re right.” Y/N said bluntly making Percy laugh, “What do we do now?”

“Well, I want to try to be friends. If you’ll have me?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, he was such a kelp head sometimes. “Of course, you sea slug. What did you think I was going to say?”

“Don’t roll your eyes at me! You’re incredibly confusing!”

Y/N scoffed, “You’re one to talk.”

“How am I confusing?”

“You’re right. You’re just completely oblivious.”

Percy stuck his tongue out at her before scooting closer to her. It was weird having their things touch again, comforting but exhilarating at the same time.

Smiling goofily, she turned towards Percy. He had been trying out the yawn and reach trick but had been caught half-way through. His mouth was still in mid-yawn and his arm was just above her shoulder. It was hilarious how he stopped but then kept going as if she didn’t notice.

Rolling her eyes but cuddling into him, she smiled. He could be such an idiot sometimes.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Always family; John Deacon x teen reader

*Author’s note*

Hello all, I just wanted to share with you all ANOTHER Queen fic. Now this one here is pretty long so I’m sorry not sorry for the longness of this fic but it had to be done. Thought I’d dip my toe into the platonic Queen fics (besides my Rock Angel series) since requests will open up soon. I just want to catch up on all the requests that came to me over Winter break that the anons have been waiting so patiently on before I accept any new ones. So in this fic you the lovely reader are the cousin to this Disco man, but you both act more like brother-sister as you will soon see. Hope you all enjoy this little fic :)

Warnings: Family abandonment (IF THIS TRIGGERS ANYONE PLEASE DON’T STRAIN YOURSELF TO READ IT), angst, swearing, fluff, Paul prenter (Ugh) and the loveable and NASTY QUEENIES :) Enjoy my lovely darlings ;)

Taglist

@geek-and-proud

_____________________________________________________

*Nov. 1974, Live at the Rainbow*

It was another successful concert at the Rainbow theater.  Queen had once again performed a killer performance, and Brian now finally feeling better after his hepatitis scare knew he was ready to get back on stage and he performed his heart out to make up for what he had to miss while in the hospital.

The three main lead vocalists Freddie, Brian and Roger were heading towards their dressing room when they noticed someone sitting outside the door of their dressing room. She appeared to be about 15 possibly 16, had long (h/c) with platinum blonde highlights.  She wore a white crop top shirt, black leather jacket, denim blue jeans and high-heeled boots similar to what their bass player always wore.

They also took notice around her neck was a camera and she was also fiddling around with it, instantly knowing exactly how to operate it.  Freddie turned to Roger and teased out.

“Look Roger darling, the girl you ordered finally came.” Roger hit Freddie’s shoulder and told him to fuck off while Brian walked up to the girl and asked.

“Excuse me?” She looked up from her camera and they also saw that she was blowing up a bubble from the gum that she had been chewing.  She deflated the bubble as Brian said, “Can we help you?”

“Oh sorry I was just waiting for Deacy.” She responded before going back to her camera.

“You know John?” asked Roger.

“Do I know him? Of course I know him he—oh I get it. Typical Deacy, never likes to talk about me to his friends, thinks I’ll embarrass him or something.” She started off before trailing off into a teasing tone.  The three Queen members were still confused to just who exactly this young girl was.  She then gestured to herself as she continued, “I’m (Y/n) Deacon, Deacy’s cousin.” She then dug into her jean pocket and innocently held out a packet of gum as she said, “Gum?”

*My POV*

Hello people and beyond! The name’s (y/n) Deacon. I was born March 7th, 1959.  And before you ask, yes I am related to John Richard Deacon bass player of Queen.  He’s my older cousin but if you ask me he’s been more like a brother to me than my cousin.

In fact it was Deacy who got me interested in electrics, so much so that I’ve taken photography classes in school and then once I get into University I hope to major in photography.  In fact the camera I always carry with me around my neck, Deacy actually got it for me three years ago on my 13th birthday.

I had heard about his little band from aunt Lillian and of course from my friends.  Now that Queen is starting to gain that spotlight of fame, I took the first bus I could in order to check and see if my dear Deacy hadn’t forgotten about me.

I was now sitting on the couch in the guys’ dressing room, Freddie was sitting close to me and I spoke up.

“Okay see that’s where I draw the line with cats, I mean c’mon who would want a hairless cat? It’s like you just turned a cat inside out and said, ‘here’s your new baby’. Plus if you leave it in the winter it’ll turn into a cat-cicle. But if you leave it out in the summer heat then it’ll be a sunburnt naked mole rat.”

“Brian, Roger make note of this that we are keeping this girl because she gets cat logic.” Freddie claimed as he wrapped an arm around me bringing me close in a one armed hug. I smiled and blushed slightly hiding my head bashfully.  We soon heard the door open and finally entering inside the dressing room was the Disco man himself.

“Deacy darling you’ve got some serious explaining to do.” Freddie proclaimed as if he were giving a proclamation.  Wide-eyed and startled like a deer in headlights he looked between his bandmates and that’s when Brian spoke up.

“Like why you didn’t tell us about your cousin?” I then made myself known by waving to John and telling him hi.  Finally taking notice of me, Deacy smiled and came over to me while I met him half way and the two of us hugged each other after not seeing him for a good couple of years now.

“What are you doing here?”

“What you didn’t think I’d miss the opportunity to miss my cousin performing on stage and finally get to see what all the fuss was about, now did yah?” I teased as I playfully shoved him.

“Did my mum drop you off?”

“Well actually I sorta begged her to get me a bus pass here to London.”

“You mean to tell me you came here all by yourself?” he demanded.

“Deaks I’m not a little girl anymore, I can take care of myself.” He sighed and said as he stroked my cheek with his thumb.

“I know you can, you know I just worry about you. Old habits die hard you know?”

“Gosh Deacy, who would’ve thought you were so overprotective? And here I thought you were the docile one.” teased Roger.

“Piss off Roger.” Defended Deacy.

“So (y/n), I’m just looking at these photographs of the concert and they are really good. Did you always want to be a photographer?” Brian said trying to change the conversation.

“Thanks Brian. And to answer your question not always. But I got interested in it at around 10 maybe 11 years old. It just started off taking pictures of the family dog Buddy and some birds, a few family outings but then when I turned 13 that’s when my interest in photography began to rise. In fact Deacy gave me this exact camera and showed me how to work out all the technical stuff with it for my 13th birthday.”

“I must say these are impressive. I would’ve thought a professional would’ve taken these.” Stated Roger as he picked up a photo.

“Aww come on you guys…..”

“No we’re serious (y/n) dear, you’ve got a gift.” Freddie said.

“That’s what I’ve always been telling her.” Said Deacy with a warm smile as he playfully ruffled my hair.  I smiled at them and thanked them.

For the rest of the night I got to know the rest of the members of Queen, not just as rock stars, but as my cousin’s best friends.  Most people know them as these four handsome young men trying to become famous rockstars, but I got to know their true selves.  Brian the smart astrophysicist interested in all things regarding the universe who made his dissertation about stardust.  

Roger who is known to most as the ‘heartthrob, womanizing, air-headed and stubborn drummer’ when actually he’s an intelligent person who first started off with dentistry (to which both Deacy and Brian teased him about) but then changed his profession to biology.  The first drummer to ever truly tune his drums before playing them.

And of course the front man Freddie Mercury.  Most people think he’s always the extravagant person both on and off stage, when in reality he’s just a humble, loving human being who studied design, loves cats and has his insecurities just like everyone else.

I knew from that night that I was going to see these boys not just as my cousin’s friends, but also an extended family.

3 years passed and any chance I got I would visit the boys during holiday breaks or stay with Deacy during the summers.  I even got the chance to go with them to Rockfield farm when they recorded “A Night at the Opera” because I was assigned a summer project for my photography class.  And when EMI saw my pictures, they actually hired me an internship with them to be the band’s official photographer.

Now that I am done with high school, I’m just waiting for the autumn to start so that I can officially start my University career in photography. The boys have definitely given me good practice for my camera work, doing pictures both on stage and for behind the scenes whether through the tours or them in the studio recording.  

They’re rowdy and silly but it’s awesome to see them work and I actually get to see the genius machine that is Queen on how they create their music.

We were currently in the studio and the boys were recording their newest song “We are the Champions”.  I was getting the best pictures that I could that the record company was asking for me. Some of the pictures included them in the booth rehearsing, or Freddie along with the sound technician at the sound table messing with the buttons and track, getting it to fit his vision.

Since they were on a strict deadline to get the song recorded, it meant more hours in the studio, hours that not even I could last very long with.  I yawned softly when I felt a tap at my shoulder.  I looked up to see Deacy standing beside me.

“You ready to head home?” I yawned again and nodded tiredly. “Alright missy, let’s get you home and into bed.” I moaned tiredly and raised my arms out and said.

“Carry me.”

“Are both your legs broken?” he teased.  I let out a tired whine.

“You’re mean Deacy.”

“C’mon you get up. I know you can do it.”

“Too tired to get up.” I groaned.

“Then allow me your royal majesty.” I heard Freddie say as I was then picked up princess style and I wrapped my arms around Freddie’s neck. “That better darling?”

“I love you Fred.” I stated bluntly.

“You’re going to spoil her too much Fred.” Deacy said.

“Oh come off it Deacy, she’s a darling and she’s been working so hard she deserves this.”

“Yeah Deacy, I deserve this. Why can’t you be more like Freddie?”

“Because I know when to set limits for you.” I stuck my tongue out at him and then I was carried out of the studio and placed into Deacy’s Volvo.  Deacy followed suit and we all bid each other a goodnight and soon Deacy pulled out of the parking lot and drove us back home.

We both entered quietly so that we didn’t wake up either Veronica or baby Bobby.  Deacy and I kissed each other goodnight and I went to my guest room and got out of my jeans, didn’t even bother to get out of my shirt and just plopped on my bed and went to sleep.

The next day was like any other day, the guys had just gotten done finishing the final touches to “We are the Champions” and we were all celebrating.  Roger uncorked the bottle of wine and poured the guys a drink while I got some non-alcoholic cider, but I knew that Roger would let me sneak in a sip of wine when Deacy wasn’t looking.  As we were all gathered around just sharing stories and what not, it was then Paul came in and said.

“Freddie, boys there’s someone here to see you.” Roger and I looked at each other and he muttered.

“Hopefully the police to take him away for being an utter annoyance.” I snickered softly which made Paul glare at me and that’s when he said.

“Come on in Mrs.” And soon walking into the studio was someone I thought I’d never see again.  My body tensed up and my heart sunk, it felt like I had gotten punched in the gut and had all the air knocked out of me as a blast from the past came back and stood before this very room.

Her familiar (h/c) now shorter than I remembered but she still kept it the same style, her (e/c) looking right at me.  She looked a bit more run down than from what I remembered, probably got involved in drugs since that’s the big thing nowadays.

“Hello (y/n).” She started off.  I stood up and just glared at her.  “God you’ve—you’ve grown up so fast.” She tried to lighten up the mood.  Really? How dare she come back after all these years. In fact how did she find out where I was?  I walked out of the room avoiding another glance at her and slammed the door loud behind me.

*John’s POV*

“So…..where are the groceries?” I demanded.

“John please—”

“No, no I really want to know. Because you’re finally here, but I see no groceries.” I stood up and continued as I walked up towards her, “I mean that’s what you said when you dropped her off with mum, your sister. But news flash Katherine. You’re 15 years too late!” I now stood face to face with her, hell I almost lost my composure and wanted to hit her so hard.

“Whoa, whoa Deacy take it easy! Take it easy!” Brian said pulling me away from her.

“Deacy darling you’ve never acted this way before, just who is this woman?”

“Unfortunately she’s my mum’s younger sister. My aunt……”

“(Y/n)’s mother.” She finished.

“No, no, no! You lost that right when you abandoned her that day!” I snapped.

“Deacy calm down, calm down.” Brian said as he placed his hand to my chest trying to get me to calm down, but at this point I knew nothing would.

“Why are you here? How did you even know she’d be here?” I demanded.

“I’ve known how close you both were when you were kids, so I figured that she’d be with you. And when I heard about where Queen does their rehearsals I thought I’d get clearance, thanks to Mr. Prenter, he allowed me to come and see her.”

Bloody hell of course Paul would play a part in this. He’s always hated (y/n) hanging around, talking about her like she was a distraction from the band.  Of course (y/n) never took anything lying down.

Much like Roger, hell in fact all her life when she needed and wanted to, she could be a right up trickster.  Her pranks were always over the top but brilliantly planned and well executed.  

I would know because I was unfortunately a victim to some of those pranks, but then again I also helped form some of those pranks on say like heart-breaking, back-stabbing boyfriends, stab in the back best friends, you know those types of people.

I then left the booth and tried to find (y/n).  I searched and searched but I couldn’t find her anywhere, that was until I heard sniffling from the janitor’s closet.

I pressed my ear against the door and I knew without a doubt that (y/n) was behind the door.  I lightly knocked on it and she stopped crying and choked out.

“Please go away.” I knew words wouldn’t convince her to come out, so I did the next best thing that always seemed to at least put a smile on her face, even when I couldn’t see it.

I went into the next room and managed to find some paper and a pen and I raced back towards the janitor’s closet and wrote something down on the paper before sliding it under the door.

*My POV*

How could she? How could she suddenly decide to show up after all these years? How the hell did she even find me?  I kept crying all alone in the janitor’s closet, having the broom against the handle so that no one could come in.  I heard a knock so I just told whoever it was to go away.

I heard footsteps walking away so I figured they got the message, but then I heard footsteps again and then something was tossed underneath the crack of the door.  It was a piece of paper.  I slowly crawled up halfway out of my spot to grab the sheet of paper and unfolded it to see a very familiar little rhyme.

Oh won’t you come out little Dale.

Don’t you weep and tell me your tale.

Deacy.  Whenever I was so upset that I would hide away in either a closet or under the sink, he’d always write me a silly but comforting note that always first opened with those two lines.

Sometimes that was all it took for me to open the door and talk to him, other times we’d just pass notes back and forth between the door until I was ready to come out. Since there wasn’t a writing utensil at all in here, I was forced to remove the broom and slowly open the door.

The first thing I saw his hand being held out for me to take. I slowly reached my hand out from the door and took his hand.  He always knew that whenever I got this upset to never push me.  I felt his thumb rub and stroke over the top of my hand, his other fingers gently intertwining with my own in various different ways trying to give me the best comfort he could till I finally had the courage to come out.

Finally I opened up the closet.

I immediately hugged Deacy and he hugged me back and I whimpered out.

“I’m sorry I pulled a Roger move.”

“Shhhh. It’s alright my little nightingale. Unlike Roger’s temper tantrum over a strange car song, you have a better excuse. I’m so sorry love I had no idea it would be her.”

“I know you didn’t have anything to do with this. It’s just—”

“No I know. I know. Believe me love, I gave her a piece of my mind after all these years. All for you.”

“Why couldn’t you have been my real brother Deacy?” he softly laughed and said as he stroked through my hair.

“I may be your cousin by blood (n/n). But to me you’ve always been the sister I’ve always wanted. And that’ll never change, you hear me?” he cupped my face into his hands. He wiped my tears as I nodded and hugged him, burying my face into his shoulder.  “We’ll get through this together dove, just like we’ve always done.”

Days passed and Deacy made sure that if my mum came anywhere near me trying to start a conversation, either he or the lads would come in and save me with a ‘task’ to do, just to spare me more agony and pain, especially since she kept coming over to the studio every day and was always in the same room as I was in.

However one day when guys all had to record their parts for a new song, I was looking at all my photos when I heard her voice say.

“(Y/n)?” I froze and turned around to see my mum standing there, blocking my only exit.  I stood up and said.

“Stay away from me!”

“Please just hear me out, please! Give me 2 minutes.” I looked down at my watch and said.

“1.58” telling her that her time was ticking.

“I know that—I haven’t been the best mother. After your father left us I thought I could do well by you but I guess I was wrong. I never left you because I didn’t love you, I left you because I loved you too much to put you in what I was living under. I could barely keep the mortgage on the house, we would’ve been homeless. I couldn’t do that to you. I thought that by leaving you with my sister, you’d get a better chance. Much more than you could have with me.”

“Then why didn’t you visit me? Why didn’t you call?” I asked as tears filled my eyes.

“I was a mess I—I got into some serious trouble and had to try and work them out. If they found out I had a child, then they’d use you against me. I couldn’t let them do that. But I do have something to show you,” she dug into her purse and pulled out a photograph.  She walked up to me and held it out for me. “Look at this picture, just look at it.”

I looked between her and the picture until I finally took it and turned it over and was shocked to see what the picture was.

It was a picture of me at my secondary school decathlon.  It was the championship competition and I had gotten the last question correct which made our school the first time in decades win a decathlon.

“You—you were there?”

“Yes, you were always such a clever girl, I knew if anyone could get your school the win it’d be you.”  I just stared at her in shock, even though I hadn’t seen her since I was a child, she still was there watching over me. “I—I got more pictures like that in the apartment that I’m stay at, if you’d like you could come over and see them.”

“Really?” she nodded with a soft smile.  “And I was also wondering that after you’re done with work, do you—wanna get a drink or something? Coffee? Do you like coffee?”

“I love coffee.” I said.

“Great, I know this one coffee shop in downtown.”

And for the first time, I was starting to slowly reforge a bond with my mother.

As the weeks passed and the two of us got to know each other a little more, hanging out after work, going to the clubs, and going to the mall shopping for clothes.  Of course I had to buy them but hell we were using Deacy’s card and he didn’t seem to mind at all.  So long as we didn’t go crazy and spend all his hard-earned money at once.

And true to her word, my mum did in fact have pictures of almost all my main important events that have happened in my life. My first swim team competition, my school play freshman year, even my high school graduation.

Every important even, she was there.

One day she had came over to Deacy and Veronica’s place and we were both sitting on the couch. The two of us laughing and looking at all of the photos I’ve taken since I’ve been with the guys, explaining each and every picture.

“There us at Rockfield farm studios, Roger was messing around with the chickens, which I told him not to, then next thing he knew the rooster was chasing after him for over 15 minutes.”

“Wow, I must say these are probably the best taken pictures I’ve seen, you’ve really got a gift.”

“Yeah, Deacy says that all the time.” She sat there silent and she said.

“Hey how do you feel about road trips?” I looked at her and said.

“You’re looking at someone whose toured with the biggest band all over the world. A simple road trip wouldn’t hurt me. You—really mean it? You and me?”

“If you’re interested. Just you and me poppet.”

“I am…..mum.” She smiled and for the first time in a very long time, my mum embraced me.  I smiled and wrapped my arms around her and hugged her back.

“We’ll go first thing in the morning.” She told me and I nodded.

*John’s POV*

Seeing (y/n) hugging Kathrine like that made me feel so on edge.  In fact this entire time she’s been here I’ve felt this sickening feeling that history was going to repeat itself.

“Deacy?” I turned to see Brian standing behind me.  I had invited the lads over for supper and just so that way Katherine would be outnumbered should she try anything.

“If you’re going to tell me to stop spying on them, you might as well leave now.”

“You know—maybe she’s really trying to change. Maybe she did try to come back and patch things up with (y/n).” I turned to him and snarled out.

“She had 15 years to do that, don’t you think if she really cared about her own daughter she’d have come sooner?”

“I know Deacy and I’m not jumping to any conclusions yet but, from what I’ve seen so far. (Y/n) seems to really want to be with her mother. Maybe you could try to let go of the past and see that Katherine is seemingly wanting to change. At least do it for (y/n).”

“Everything I do is for her. I just—I just don’t want to see her get hurt again. For three years when she was first dropped off at my home, she always asked me ‘when’s mummy coming back?’ At the end of the three years by the time I was a teenager I just snapped and told her that she abandoned her. I felt awful in the way I had to explain it, took me over a week to finally get her to talk back to me. And I don’t know what’ll happen if she tries to leave her again.”

“I know mate, I know.” Brian wrapped an arm around me trying to get me to cheer up as I watched with a heavy heart as Katherine and (y/n) were planning out their summer road trip.

It was early the next morning, I woke up to the sounds of Robert getting fussy and felt Veronica stir beside me.

“I’ve got him love.”

“But you took care of him last time.”

“For you my darling, I would always take care of our children if it meant you could still sleep.” I kissed her temple down to her neck before getting up and heading over to Robert’s room.  “Alright my boy, what’s going on with you hmm?” I picked him up and he babbled.

“Hungwy dada.” Since Robert couldn’t quite get his R’s right they always sounded like w’s.  I smiled and said as I picked him up and held him in my arms.

“Okay buddy, what shall it be today hmm? Cheese on toast?”

“No yucky dada.”

“How dare you! Cheese on toast is a wonderful dish, you take that back mister man.” I teased as I began to tickle his sides making him laugh.  He squirmed in my hold and that’s when I saw the silhouette of aunt Katherine walking down the stairs.

I narrowed my eyes and peeked out of Robert’s bedroom door and swore I saw a suitcase in her hand. I told Robert to go over to our room and stay with his mum while I went down to see just exactly she thought she was doing.  

I silently walked down the stairs and saw her with the suitcase and she was about to grab her purse when I stopped her and said.

“Going out shopping again, Katherine?” she froze in her spot and turned around towards me and said.

“John I—I didn’t expect to see you up so early; I would’ve thought the tour exhausted you out.”

“Oh it did, but then again when my child needs me I’m always there for them. So where is it to this time?”

“Actually it’s not what you think. Work called in and I’ve got to check in on some things.”

“And what about the big road trip you and (y/n) had planned? Hmm? Were you going to let her in on your business?” I snapped.

“I was actually going to have you tell her for me.” She said.  I rolled my eyes and turned away from her shaking my head.

“I knew it.” I muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“You almost had me convinced. Almost I mean you finally convinced (y/n) but not anymore! I knew you could never change. You abandoned her once before and I knew that if you ever came back into her life again, you’d do it all over again!” My voice raising up louder and angrier than I ever thought I could go.

“John?” Veronica soon came down with Robert in her arms and the lads were right behind her as well, probably hearing my yelling.

“Jeez Deaks its barely 7 o’clock, what the hell is with all the yelling?” Questioned Roger.

“Katherine’s leaving (y/n) again.” I stated.  They all turned to her and Veronica said.

“Is this true Katherine?”

“And it gets better, she’s wanting me to tell (y/n) the road trip they both planned out together is cancelled instead of telling her herself.” I made sure to point out.

“It’s just business Veronica dear, if you were in my shoes you’d do the same. I promise I’ll keep better in touch this time.”

“Took you 15 years just to get back in touch.” I said. Seeing the look on my wife’s and my friends’ faces they finally got to see what I had seen all those years ago. From what I had told them, now they finally got to see it.  Veronica holding our son walked up to her and said.

“Katherine, if you walk out of (y/n)’s life now…..don’t you ever come back.” With that she walked back up the stairs passing the guys.  All was silent before I spoke up.

“May I have a moment alone with her?” I could already feel the tension from them.  I knew the guys were just as angry as I was because they cared for (y/n) as much as I did, even after knowing her after just 3 years. I heard them walk away until finally it was just Katherine and I in my front hallway. “Sit down.”

“I don’t have time for this John—”

“I said sit down Katherine!” I snapped as I finally turned back towards her and just saw her back as her hand was on the doorknob ready to walk out.  She sighed heavily and walked right past me and sat down on the living room couch.

I walked over toward her and sighed heavily and finally spoke my mind.

“You know; (y/n) was doing just fine until you showed up. But now that you’re back, you have responsibility for her.”

“Look I came back for her—”

“Oh bull. BULLSHIT!!” I yelled at her. “(Y/n) is not some purse that you hang up on a rack and then pick her up whenever you’re ready to use it. Her life goes on! She’s not supposed to be there for you, you’re supposed to be there for her!”

“You get off my back! YOU THINK I WANTED THIS?! IT JUST HAPPENED!!!” She yelled at me as she stood up.  Her breathing was sharp and heavy as she tried to explain her reasoning, “After Derek left, I tried my best but it was just too much and I—”

“CUT THE RUBBISH! ALRIGHT! CUT IT!! Cause I’ve been there! But I didn’t run out on Veronica. I was there for her every day because that’s what a real parent does.”

“A real parent!? Fine. Then you’re a better father than my good-for-nothing man was. Hell John you must be better than any man in the world must be! The one in a million golden boy!” She cheered sarcastically. I shook my head at her and turned away from her. “Now are you going to tell (y/n) or not?”

“I’m not gonna do your dirty work for you.”

“Fine. I’ll—I’ll call her from the road then.”

“Yeah you do that.”

“I will.” She then walked out and that’s when we both heard (y/n)’s voice call out.

“Mummsy.” Katherine stopped in her tracks as (y/n) stood in front of me setting her bags down as she said, “You ready to head out?” Katherine turned towards (y/n) and put on that fake persona act and said as she walked up towards her.

“(Y/n) love glad I caught you. Umm…..some business came up that I gotta handle, so we’re gonna have to put our—trip on hold. You understand right?” (Y/n) was silent for a moment before she finally said.

“Yeah, yeah I understand.”

“Oh that’s great, I promise you I had no intention of having this come up.”

“No yeah I understand.”

“And it’ll only just be for a couple of weeks….well maybe even longer.”

“I get it, it’s fine. It’s fine.”

“Look I’ll call you next week and we’ll iron out the details then, okay?” (Y/n) nodded.

I could tell from the second she got the news that (y/n) was heartbroken and I feared that she knew Katherine’s real reason for leaving.  She tried to pull off an understanding smile and voice but I could hear the cracks in her voice.

“It was great seeing you again poppet.” Katherine said as she reached out to her but (y/n) shrugged her off as she said.

“You too—Katherine.” She spat out her own mother’s name icily as she stared right at her.  Katherine knowing that she had lost her only child once more, sighed solemnly and left without another word, turning her back on (y/n) once more.

“I’m sorry love.” I heard a choked out laugh and that’s when (y/n) said.

“No this actually works out perfectly I mean with the tour about to resume I can get back to practicing before University starts and—”

“(N/n), you don’t have to pretend around me. It’s okay to be angry.” I assured her.

“Mad? Why should I be mad Deacy? I mean at least she said goodbye this time, right? Hell at least this time you won’t have to hear me complain ‘when’s mummy coming home?’ I’m not 4 years old anymore, I can handle it. I—just wish I didn’t waste my damn time building this fucking scrapbook!” She then pulled out from her bag a photo album and glued onto the cover was a recent picture of her and Katherine together.

With all the pictures she’s taken over the years, (y/n)’s other hobby included scrapbooking.  I saw that it had been completed decorated and detailed, almost like a professional had made it.  She set it down on the table and just glared down at it.

I slowly walked up to her but kept to her space because I knew it was only a matter of time before she would break down and I didn’t want to overwhelm her.

“Darling, you know that if there was anything I could do to make this better—”

“No, no, no, no this works out for the best,” she said as she came up to me looking me right in the eye. “I mean it’s her loss anyway I mean I learned how to ride a bike by myself. Yeah sure the boys laughed at me but I got back up and showed them a thing or two about riding didn’t I?”

“Yes you did love bug.” I said with a fond smile remembering that day.

“And there was a hell of a lot of stuff I did without her. I learned how to shave, how to drive, I got over my first crush and date without her, I did prom without her, I had fifteen great birthdays without her! That bitch never even sent me a damn card. TO HELL WITH HER!!!” She turned and screamed at the door.

God she’s always tried to remain so optimistic about life and everything around her. Always tried to remain strong after being abandoned by both parents, she always tried to go on every day with a smile and a laugh but now she was finally letting all that pain out like a dam bursting.

Hearing her sharp breaths and the tremble in her voice just broke my heart.

“I never needed her then, and I’ll never need her now.” She snapped as she walked away.  I softly spoke her name as I reached out and touched her arm.  That’s when she turned around and said.

“Nah you know what Deacy? I’m gonna get through college without her. I’ll get my dream job without her. I’ll find me a good guy to be with, and then I’m going to have a whole bunch of kids. I’m gonna be a better mother than she ever was because there’s not a fucking thing she can teach me ABOUT HOW TO LOVE A CHILD!!!”

Her eyes were red from the tears pooling in her eyes and her face morphed from pure rage to brokenhearted with a snap of a finger.  It was almost like she had de-aged right before my eyes and was back to being that three year old girl that I once held in my arms whenever she cried about her parents.

“Why didn’t they want me?” At this point I couldn’t hold back anymore.

I immediately wrapped my arms around her and held her as close and as tightly as I could as I felt her wet my shoulder with her tears.  Her sobs pierced the room as I felt her go limp against me.  The two of us slowly collapsed to our knees but not once did I let my grip on her go loose.  I kept hold of her as I rubbed her back and whispered words of love and comfort in her ear.

*3rd Person POV*

Unaware that in behind the door that led to the dining room, Freddie, Roger and Brian stayed and overheard the entire conversation.  And overhearing their favorite girl break down like this, broke all their hearts.  Freddie wiped away his tears that were flooding down his face, almost ready to break down the door and just hug his little camera girl.

Brian who standing behind Freddie had a hand on his shoulder but he too had tears streaming down his face.  While Roger who was had pulled up one of the dining room chairs just a couple inches away from Fred, his back turned towards the door.

He was a mix between pure anger and heartbreak.  He wa tempted to knock over the china cabinet but also just break down into tears at hearing his partner in crime cry this much.  Never had he heard her make those sounds before and it just hurt him to the core.

Back with John and (y/n), she had finally managed to cry herself to sleep.  Deacy slowly picked her up bridal style when the guys decided to come into the living room and the second John saw their red, teary eyes, he knew that they had stayed and overheard everything.

“You heard it all I assume?” John asked more as a statement than a question.

“We didn’t mean to impose John.” Said Brian.

“It’s fine, beats having to tell you guys and having her relive that pain and exhausting myself to repeat the same story.” He said as he looked down at his little cousin. Roger came up towards Deacy and stroked (y/n)’s head.

“The poor dear” Freddie said solemnly.

“Guess you were right about her Deacy.” Brian said.

“There will be plenty of time for ‘I told you so’s’ later, right now I should get (y/n) back into her room so she can get the proper rest she needs.” Deacy then took his cousin upstairs and placed her back in her bed.

He tucked her in and brushed away the hair from her face and lightly kissed her forehead before leaving her room to head back downstairs.

As time went on and it was around late afternoon the guys were still hanging around John’s place, agreeing to stay until (y/n) woke up so that the five of them could have a talk. Veronica who was currently walking up the stairs to check up (y/n) muttered to herself.

“Oh I hope she’s okay.” She got to the door and lightly knocked on it and said, “(Y/n), (y/n) love it’s Veronica, may I come in?” She heard nothing.  She knocked again and said, “(Y/n)?” when she didn’t get a response, she opened the door to see a shocking sight.

The bedsheets had been turned over and the bedroom window was open, the curtains blowing with the wind.

“Oh no, John!” she cried out as she raced back down the stairs.  The boys heard footsteps running down the stairs and when they saw Veronica, the first thing they saw was her frantic state.  John immediately went up to his wife holding her arms and said.

“Love calm down, what’s going on?”

“(Y/n)’s is missing.”

“What? What do you mean missing?!” demanded Roger.

“I went to check on her but when I opened the door she wasn’t in her room. The window was open and—” without getting another word, the four bandmates raced up the stairs to see that Veronica was telling the truth.  She came up behind them as Deacy and Brian raced towards the window and looked down.

“She must’ve scaled down using the pipes along the house.” Suggested Brian.

“My darlings, her bag is gone.” Freddie stated as he stood by the closet and sure enough the bags that she had used for the upcoming road trip were gone.

“She could be anywhere by now.” Brian said but then I snapped.

“She could be out of the country for all we know because we don’t know how long she’s been gone for!”

“Deacy calm down.” Roger said.

“I swear if anything happens to that girl, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Don’t worry darling we’ll find her.” Fred assured me as he placed a hand on my shoulder.  “We’ll turn London upside down if we have too to find her.”

We then split up into teams.  I called my mum first to take care of Robert and watch over him then once she took care of him Veronica and I checked in the square, Fred took the studio, and Brian and Roger took the park.

It was an endless search trying to find her, and I pray to God we find her alive.  It would be dark soon and all the freaks and psychopaths love to come out at night.

*3rd Person POV*

It was hours into the search and sunset would soon be near and still no one had found any signs of (y/n).  After search the studio, Fred decided to help Brian and Roger in the park while Deacy and Veronica tried the mall, hoping that maybe (y/n) had gone inside since it was getting dark soon.

Fred and Brian teamed up together to search one side of the park while Roger was near by the lake searching on his own.  It was then he took notice of something underneath the bridge nearby.  He quickly ran towards the bridge and low and behold he had found (y/n).

She was huddled under the bridge, her knees tucked in close to her body sniffling softly. Roger took notice of the tearstains on her face and he felt his heart break once more.  He cautiously approached her and knelt down beside her and softly said her name.

*My POV*

I sniffled and felt more tears run down my face.  I thought that I had finally found a place to cry in peace without risking anyone coming near me and asking questions when I heard the familiar soft, spoken voice of Roger Taylor say my name.  I jumped up but then groaned and turned my back on him.

“Oh god…..”

“You know you really gotta pick your hiding spots. I mean seriously you have no idea how many people could see you—”

“Why are you here Roger?!” I snapped.

“We’ve been scouring the entire town looking for you (n/n). You gave us all quite a scare.” He said. I didn’t respond to him, just scooted as far away from him as I could and put my bag between us giving me that extra space I needed. “You wanna talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about. My dad never wanted me, my mum never wanted me, nobody ever wants me.”

“That’s not true—”

“Open your eyes Roger!” I snapped at him as I felt a new wave of tears hit me.  “All my life I’ve had to hear all my friends telling me what great parents they have. You know my dad fought in Vietnam, my mom’s a real estate’s agent. My parents help support me. Well—both my parents never wanted me! Yeah I had Deacy and aunt Lillian but they are just my cousin and aunt. It’s not the same! My whole life I had to be loved by someone whose not my parent and I hate it! I hate it soo much!” I lowered my head choking on my sobs.

It was then I felt Roger’s arms wrap around me and I felt him place my head over his heart, each beat of his heart trying to soothe my tormented mind.  He stroked down my hair and he said.

“Do you remember back on Ridge farm when Brian took us all out to that one area of woods to see the stars? Paul forced himself into the getaway, so to mess with him you filled his bag with rocks and used that lizard you came across to put on his bottle as well as on his head.”

“And then it crawled into his mouth.” I finished.

“Yeah pure stroke of genius.” He chuckled. “(N/n), you may think you’re unloved, but that is absolute bollocks. You are loved. By Deacy, Brian, Fred, me, Veronica, hell even Miami. We all love you, and if anything had happened to you, we wouldn’t know what to do.” He wiped the tearstains away from my cheek with his thumb before lifting my chin up to face him, forcing me to stare into his baby blue eyes.  “The only one who doesn’t deserve to be loved and wanted is your mother. Anyone who could play you like that, has no right to be called a parent. You are way out of her league.”

“Then why would she come back pretending to care?” Roger just looked at me sadly and he said.

“I wish I had the right answer. But I can tell you this; you’re sweet, you’re kind, smart, beautiful. You’ve got more sass in one finger than Deacy will ever have in his entire body. And it’s like you said one day in the way off deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep.” I laughed softly as he kept repeating the word deep at least four more times before continuing, “distant future, you’ll become a mother yourself and I know that you’ll be twice the mother than your own was.” He tucked some of my hair behind my ears, revealing them before gently cupping my chin between his thumb and index fingers.

“How is it that a dentist ends up being wiser than both the astrophysicist and electrical engineer?”

“I was never a dentist and you know it.” He said as he playfully squeezed the tip of my nose shaking my head which made me laugh again as I pushed his hand away making him laugh softly.  He then leaned forward and placed his forehead against mine.

This was a special little thing that Roger loved to do with me. It was our own secret little comforting mechanism.  I was actually the first one to do it to him when he once had a breakdown after a show. He just seemed so peeved about something that the lads almost feared that he’d throw out another telly set. So I took the risk and took his hands in mine and just placed my forehead against his and just held that position till he calmed down.

From then on, whenever one of us was mad or upset, the forehead touch helped bring the other back to Earth.  He then wrapped his arms around me giving me his famous bear hugs.  His hand stroked down my hair as his head now moved next to mine while my head rested against his shoulder and the two of us sat there for a while in silence.

“C’mon kid, let’s get you home.”

“I don’t think I can.” I muttered sadly.

“Why’s that?”

“Deacy.” I simply answered.  Roger separated from me and he said.

“He’s not mad (y/n)…..”

“You don’t get it, you may have seen John Deacon the man who can crumble you down with just two sentences, but you’ve yet to see what happens when he redirects that anger and mixes it with overprotective behavior.”

“Love, he’s been worried sick about you. He needs to know that his little sis is safe. I know I would.” I sighed heavily and said.

“But what if he does get mad?”

“I’ll talk to him. If anyone knows a thing about overreacting it’s me.” I smiled softly and that’s when Rog stood up and held his hand out for me to take.

“You promise to have my back?”

“Partners in crime till the very end. Just like those two cats in that poem you like so much.” I smiled up at him and took his hand and he helped me up as he took my bag over his shoulder and had his free arm wrapped around my shoulder as he guided me back to his car and he drove me back to Deacy and Veronica’s.

*3rd Person POV*

The sun had set about 5 minutes ago and with almost everyone back at John’s place, no one had found her.  John who was running his hands through his hair frantic with worry as his wife tried to calm him down.

“Maybe we should call the police.” Suggested Brian.

“No need Brian.” Roger’s voice soon spoke up as he opened the door.  Everyone turned to see that the drummer had finally came back.

“And just where were you all this time Roger dear?”

“Bringing back a lost lamb.” He then gestured with his arm and soon walking in cautiously was (y/n). Immediately everyone began crowding around her asking her questions about where she was and why she ran away like that.

Sensing his partner in crime’s nervousness and anxiety he told everyone.

“Guys, guys back it up. Don’t crowd her all at once.” John who merely stood there by the couch in shock to see his cousin alive and well.  Roger looked to Deacy and pressed his hand to (y/n)’s back. She looked up at him and he nodded to her and she cautiously walked towards her cousin, like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs.

“Where did you find her?” asked Freddie.

“At the park underneath the Churchill bridge. Poor girl was crying her eyes out.” Roger whispered.  Veronica ten decided to allow her husband and (y/n) to have some alone time so she guided the boys into the kitchen for a proper meal after their long search while she called Lilian to tell her that they found (y/n) and that she would pick Robert up in the morning.

(Y/n) stood in front of her cousin.  John looked down at her before finally raising his hands to cup both sides of her face to lift her face up so that he could get a good look at her.

“You’re not hurt are you?” he asked.  With a shake of her head, Deacy sighed with relief and immediately embraced her before openly weeping into her shoulder.  She hugged her cousin back whimpering.

“I’m sorry I ran away. I’m sorry Deacy, I’m sorry.”

“Shhhh, you’re home now. Safe and unharmed and that’s all I care about now. It’ll be okay. We’ll be okay dove.” The two cousins kept hold of each other trying to draw strength from each other knowing that they were going to get by and be okay.

[nauseateddrive]

I ALMOST KILLED MY FURBY by Kristine Brown

"One day, you'll say, 'I want kids.'"

Surely. Pfft.

"...so keep in mind that when you do have children, you know that..."

I find that when it comes to offspring, precedents are implausible. But, go on.

"When are you having kids?"

Thanks for your concerns, people older than myself. By the way, I'm twenty and I just moved in with the guy.

* * *

Many of these discussions took place in 2012. Today, I'm twenty-eight. A generous plenty say I look seventeen, twelve on days speckled with sunshine and free of humidity. I have not seriously dated a man in more than two years. Silence is joyful, and my bank account is calm. I should also mention that my vocal chords are so much less strained because I've hardly engaged in another argument about when to get pregnant, how many times, and who would perform tasks of necessity while the other did all the indoctrination. My first relationship - the only serious one I've had - was outwardly quirky in that Wall-E and EVE sort of way, but if anyone was our neighbor, he or she would tell a different story. My live-in boyfriend had a dogged coldness resembling Kevin Lomax from The Devil's Advocate, and my meltdowns were just as grating as Mrs. Lomax's pleas to just "make a baby." Oddly enough, he was the one proposing plans for The Spawning. I just wanted him to spend time with me more.

My opinion on kids? I would make for an unfit mother. Possibly because of maladaptive behaviors, my urge to crush Pepsi cans to bite-sized accordions, a desensitization to insults my friends would classify as "bullying." I couldn't possibly impart a set of ethics to foster happiness and prosperity in the life of a child. "Oh, but that would be my job, love bug." Let's assume that besides diapering, clothing, breastfeeding, and these advanced duties to follow, I couldn't possibly have any sort of influence on my child. Doubtful.

Sometimes, whether at work or in a doctor's office, I witness an angry child thrashing a baby doll, or a careless, soporific child who drags the tiny mannequin by the hair. The parent may reprimand the child, and might even say: "Look what you did to your baby. No, don't do that!"

I can't say I've had these experiences, at least at a very young age. I never took an interest in baby dolls. Now, I do remember having multiple miniature dolls either given to me by older children or found in the clamor of Saturday swap meets. I do remember the Ken and Barbie, not genuinely Mattel but sufficiently humanoid to warrant their being called such. And with the screech of cheap Velcro, their garments were gone, and Ken slept on top. Well, I thought they were sleeping, but adults were displeased with my mission in choreography. I never saw those miniature knockoffs again. Predictably, I was supervised as I played with the Native American doll set. The male was removed, and eventually, so was the horse.

The clarity of my childhood memories astounds a handful of people, partly because of my current tendency to gloss over details and fail to follow directions. I could readily retell the plots and messages of numerous commercials in the mid-to-late '90s, the older Generation X-ers nodding and smirking in a way that asks, "Why do you know all this?" I was especially terrified of public safety announcements. "Only you can prevent forest fires" disconcerts me as much as "Hi, I'm Chucky. Wanna play?” But one campaign I couldn't tolerate was the one with the shaken baby. The teddy bear etched in stone, the infant's screams in the background, a camera in a dance of epilepsy. Then you see the whole tombstone and something along the lines of "Our Beloved Child." I think I was five or six at the time, but that was quite a horror flick.

What the frustrated adult committed against the baby, I would replicate three years later. To my Furby.

We were better off then and at this point my parents had learned the rules of Keeping Up with the Joneses. But they didn't buy the Furby. Even now, I question the merits by which he entered our home. Oreo. That's what my babysitter's older sister introduced him as, placing the box in my twiggy little arms, pinching my cheeks because that's what people do to you when you're eight, chubby, and loudly pretentious. She was fired the week after. I still remember being asked if the Furby was supposed to be paid for.

So consensus states that Furbies are Satan's little mercenaries. Infantilized Gremlins, wingless bats with beaks, sorely mutated flying monkeys. Whatever they may be, and in whatever year they were manufactured and marketed, we know that each and every Furby could use obedience classes with S.T.F.U. Consulting (I suppose we should add "LLC" to this, protecting the venture from lawsuits should the classes not work). That little gem plastered onto their foreheads? I don't believe it was ever a sophisticated camera, or a recording device. I couldn't teach Oreo anything. If I couldn't make him dance like my friends could with theirs, how could my children follow simple rules? Not that I was making this irrational connection in 1998, but my friends often joked that as much as I carried that loudmouth around, he was "kinda" my baby.

Furbies have this creepy voice a bit too similar to that of an aggressive cougar you've either known or heard of with a burgeoning case of emphysema. Yes, I also remember some graphic anti-smoking ads. I think above all demands, mine's signature croon was "Hungry." I'd press my finger on its plastic red tongue to hear those simpering "Mmmm"s and so many "Hungry"s that wouldn't cease no matter how often I fed the damn thing. Frustrated, I'd bury Oreo beneath layers of blankets, chuck him in multiple pillowcases, wedge him beneath the wall and my mattress. His nighttime cravings annoyed us all. 

There was a point where I was reprimanded harshly for walking by Oreo during his "naps." We had had it with his shit.

We couldn't figure out how to turn the fucker off. Honestly, I don't remember anyone even taking steps to activate the Furby. He came into the world as is. It's eerily similar to those robotic babies they hoist onto high school freshmen in state-mandated health class. Abstinence only, this will teach you. And in those health classes I do remember some frustrated girls perpetrating acts of legitimate mannequin abuse. Kind of like those angry toddlers in doctors' offices. Oreo once again begged for food. I couldn't quite teach him to dance on cue. He never did anything other Furbies did in all the commercials. I knew you could rub them on the tummy and all, but I thought, "What if I turn him upside down?"

And he hung from my grasp, looking very much like an obese bat that lost its wings long atrophied. Characteristically, he screamed, "Weeeeee. Fun!"

My intention was to punish him. So I shook him.

"Weeeee. Fun! Tuba, woah! Do do do do do dooooo..."

(Oreo uttered this phrase multiple times. I could never really make out exactly what he was saying, but I am certain that he did say "Tuba.")

As my hands were too tiny for one to do all the handling, I tried to spin him around. Really, I churned the animatronic butterball in multiple directions, my arms growing tired, my frustrations projected.

"Woahhh! Woahhh!"

I continued with this odd punishment.

"Woaaaahhhh! Me scared!"

The cry was loud. But that "Me scared" was a bit unsettling. It was a mix between a coo and a gasp, like he knew what I was trying to do. But I continued in my campaign to silence Oreo.

"Whooopeeeee! Fuuuunnnn!"

Blatantly contradicting the sentiments expressed immediately prior. I continued.

"Woaaahhh! Me scared! Heeeee."

That "heeee" actually sounded remorseful. I felt a twinge of remorse. But it wasn't enough, as I did continue.

Repeatedly, he would cry about being scared. And suddenly, a snorting sound. And while he hung upside down, the base of his odd little person in the clutches of my white-knuckled hands, he spoke the awaited mantra.

"Wooooo. Wooooo. Wooooo. Something something. Cocoa."

(Again, it's often hard for me to properly recall exactly what that thing said. I'm pretty confident he said "cocoa." He had some decent taste.)

And silence. For a good two years. Despite several jabs and pinches in evenings to follow, Oreo persisted in his slumber. Or coma.

Twenty years later, and I'm ordering books on Amazon to better address my anger, impatience, and tendency to seethe. Babies, and children in general, stay absent in my plans. But really, no one would take the story of Oreo seriously enough in reviewing my constant fears. That day, I became a little scared of myself.

Kristine Brown shuffles between poetry, prose, data entry, and wishing she could properly fly a kite. She photographs strangers' cats and writes poems for them. You can find these poems on her blog, Crumpled Paper Cranes (https://crumpledpapercranes.com). Her writing appears in Hobart, Philosophical Idiot, Burningword Literary Journal, among others. Her novel, Connie Undone, will be released on March 1st, 2020.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #274

“now i can hear the marching feet / they’re moving into the street”

What color was the last swimsuit you wore? I only have a black one. Is your dream job attainable? I mean define “dream job.” I’d ideally be a meerkat biologist if I was willing to live in Africa and could handle even mild heat, but I can’t/won’t do either of those, so it’s not obtainable to me. I’d also love to be a paleontologist if I could travel and handle heat once more, but again, I can’t. My only *attainable* dream job is being a photographer, which I am aiming for. I’d LIKE to focus on nature/wildlife photography, but that’s unlikely to be able to support me, so. Do you have to go to school or work tomorrow? N/A Have you slept for longer than usual today? Yes, but only because of my nightmares. I tend to take at least two (though sometimes one) hour-long naps during the day because if I wake up once during the night, as I usually do, I’m fucked because I’m very likely to have an intense nightmare. It seems like the medicine I’m on wears off with consciousness, I guess. I only allow myself to sleep an hour at daytime because my mother has noticed if I have a nightmare, it’s usually no earlier than one hour into sleep. Even then I still have them occasionally. Have you ever taken classes for a musical instrument? Recorder in elementary school was necessary for whatever stupid reason, and then I played the flute for years. Out of school, I took guitar lessons for a while. I got semi-decent (at best I could do the intro to “Crazy Train” at normal speed, I think), but it didn’t last because it was annoying/time-consuming to build up the calluses that make playing painless, I was really bad at overthinking where my fingers were, and I just wasn’t invested quite enough. I’ll tell you, it gave me mad respect for guitarists, that shit isn’t easy by any means. Have you ever been on vacation with someone other than your family? Yes, though it was brief. I was a kid (okay, pre-teen, w/e) still in my separation anxiety from Mom phase and it was literally because of me we had to go home. I still feel shitty about it, though no one seemed upset at me. How old do you think you’ll be when you move out on your own? Who the fuck even knows anymore. Do you have a job? If so, where do you work? If not, do you want one? No; N/A; yes ultimately but no at the current moment because I have to keep watch over Mom. If you wear make-up, which brand of foundation/powder do you use? N/A Would you call yourself a “people” person? Nope. What is one change you need to make in your life this month? Just one??? What’s been tugging on your heart lately? My PTSD plus self-image has been very, very bad. What is the last thing you did that made you feel guilty? Mom had to clean up my cat’s projectile vomit even though she’s supposed to stay away from this kinda stuff through chemo. I literally cannot fucking touch vomit, never mind what came out of him that night. I felt like absolute fucking shit and I still do because WOW I’m a great adult right!! Do you have any physical traits that are bothering you lately? Like, everything. What kind of dog is your favorite? I’m biased to beagles. What was the last thing you received in the mail? A book. What is the last thing you wrote? Like, physically? My signature at the doctor’s office. Do you still care about the person you first kissed? Way fucking more than I should. Do you require a lot of private time? Definitely more than most people. Do you have any songs currently stuck in your head? I haven’t listened to it in forever for ~reasons~, yet “The Mortician’s Daughter” is stuck in my head badly and really needs to fuck off. What was the last song you downloaded? I dunno, I went on a download binge a while back. Have you ever read a really funny book? I remember at least one. “Bite Me” by IDR-Who. Some vampire satire. Have you ever done something humiliating while drunk? Never reached the point of being drunk. How would you react if your celebrity crush came to your door? fuckin YIKES I am NOT attractive rn go away Has your mom/dad ever walked in on you kissing or anything more with someone? HAHA my mom has always had the decency to knock, not so much his mom a;lwkejrewoei but the answer’s still no. What electronics are in your room? (DVD player, CD player, etc) This laptop, my phone, a Nintendo DS, my iPod… Do you have a box anywhere with special items you'll to keep forever in it? Yes, actually. Grew up calling them “treasure boxes.” Do you have any pictures of yourself on your bedroom walls? Lol no, I’d definitely prefer to not see myself as much as I can. That sounds melodramatic, but I’m being serious. It either depresses me or makes me angry. Does your dad collect anything? The Cleveland Browns’ football team stuff, for one. Maybe Carolina Hurricane stuff, too? Idk. I don’t live with him and don’t go in his “man cave” at his house often ha ha. What's better, a desktop or laptop? Explain. A laptop. Portable; that’s all the explanation ya really need. Do your parents still hide chocolate eggs around on Easter for you? Nah. What do you typically do on Easter Day? We go to my sister’s house to watch the kids do their egg hunting and open their gifts, then we usually go to Ashley’s in-laws’ for dinner. Is there anyone you literally need to exist? Apparently not. Thought so. Never let yourself into that state of mind. What would you prefer to get from a guy/girl: flowers, a hand-written poem, a picture he drew of you or a nice night out? Oh, a hand-written poem would wreck me, yeesh. Or a drawing. But any would be very sweet. Do you remember why you made the last mistake you did? I don’t know the most recent mistake, but probably because I’m just in general a terrified person who second-guesses or overanalyzes everything. Did you check how many calories the last thing you ate had? Yes. I’m back on my calorie-counting obsession again. Are your nails long or short? Short, always. I can’t keep them long. What is your favorite kind of cookie? Just the ordinary chocolate chip is fine. What was the last compliment you received? I don’t know. Who will be the next person you kiss? I normally delete this question because the answer should be so obvious, but I feel like just pointing it out that no one fucking knows who they’re gonna kiss next. It’s a dangerous mindset. Don’t make assumptions about what you’ll have even tomorrow. Have you ever made your own icon? Yeah, on many sites. They’re just about always just edits, though, not truly original work. What color is your computer mouse? It’s black. Have you ever been sung to on your birthday in a restaurant? Yes. Do you like black olives? I don’t like olives period. Do you actually think there will be a zombie apocolypse? Personally, no. I do think it’s scientifically possible, we already see this in insects, but I just don’t imagine it happening to humans before we’re our own downfall. Do you like the person you’ve become over the past years? Fuck no. Have you ever gone to church just to get a significant other? … No…? Have you ever punched a wall out of complete anger? No, that shit is terrifying. Are you really ticklish? YES don’t fucking touch me. How do you decide what you're going to eat each day? I just follow what I’m craving that day. How are you similar to your siblings? Different? Compared to Ashley and Nicole at least, I can’t think of any real similarities off the top of my head. They’re intelligent, motivated, outgoing, successful, yada yada, then there’s me. What's your favorite type of non-fiction literature? Autobiographies by people I’m actually interested in. Do you believe in souls? Soulmates? Souls, absolutely. Soulmates, no. It’s fairytale ideation to think your soul has a perfect match with another, hate to break it to ya. Favorite soundtrack? BITCH don’t make me choose between Shadow of the Colossus and Silent Hill 2. Fucking masterpieces. Pianos or guitars? *shrugs* Depends on the music and my mood. Did an animal ever bite you? Never seriously. How many languages do you speak? Only English fluently. I’m poor at German by now. Wiggly worms or bumble bees? Worms gross me out, bees are Good Boys. Religion? I don’t really identify with any. I just believe there’s some form of ultimate intelligence and essences beyond just the body, and that’s all I even pretend to know. Fog, thunder, or rain? Fog gives me that Silent Hill Vibe *Italian kiss* What regret keeps coming back to haunt you daily? The way I treated Jason after the breakup. If you could cure yourself of one allergy, what would it be? Damn pollen. Do you know anyone else with your name? Yeah. What would you be most afraid of happening if you were to visit Africa? Viruses or botflies. Where are you tempted to move to sometimes? I very legitimately want to live in Canada by now, but I won’t because I’m not moving that far from family. Who seems like they have the perfect life? I try not to make that assumption of anyone. Do you ever take pictures of negative moments? Does taking pictures of roadkill count???? lmao probably Do you think it would be a good idea to post photos of negative moments as well as positive? Well… I guess it depends. Like ngl, the pictures some people share of them having panic attacks to just show how fucking real they are definitely touch you, as do those depicting poverty, etc., BUT I really do think there are limits and also differences in motivations. What time zone are you in? EST. Would you ever post a picture of yourself crying on social media? Wow, speaking of. No. ^Why or why not? I am an UGLY cry-er, my man. But I also just don’t want people to see that, and it’s definitely not on my mind to take a picture during a breakdown. What was the last thing you cried about? My life. Have you ever held a newborn baby? Yes. Do you know anyone who has twins? Yes. Where do you buy calendars from? I don’t. Do you shop at the dollar store often? Not *often*, but we’ll stop by for a snack or something sometimes. Are you following in the career path of any family members? No. Do you feel you missed out on a lot as a kid? I guess in some ways. Who was that best friend you ever had? Sara. What color is your laptop? Black. What are five careers you think you’d be good at? My work history has shown I can’t do shit right. Are you thriving in your life right now? lmao no one is in 2020. Who do you have moral support from? My family, doctor, and a few friends. Who encourages you to go after your dreams? The same as above. Do you have people in your family who want you dead? Wow, I hope not. Do you have a walk-in closet? No, but my room at the new house will. :’) Not that I need one, it’s just pretty cool. How do you feel about people like Elon Musk, Bill Gates, and Jeff Bezos having so much power and control in the world? Do you believe that any one person should have so much power? Let’s be real, in our current world, money is power, and no one should have that much control of the world, especially if your intentions are bad. NOW I don’t know jack shit about any of those are far as morals go, but just saying. It’s dangerous. Has your anxiety alone ever prevented you from doing something you wanted to do? This is ACTUALLY the story of my fucking life. Do you enjoy reading stories and novels that are heavily stylistic, poetic, or unconventional or do you prefer your prose to follow a familiar grammatical structure? Okay, I LOVE those, like Johnny Got His Gun and The Handmaid’s Tale that’s kinda like, run-on writing. Just letting a train of thought go. Those are two of the most powerful books I’ve ever read and they’re both written in a unique fashion. Have you ever fallen for any sort of Internet-based hoax? (e.g., fake celeb death, satire news article…) I’m sure at some point, especially as a kid. Do you tend to read reviews before you watch a movie or read a book? What do you hope to get out of doing so? NO. I don’t wanna have any precognition. When you go to a concert, how far must you travel for the most usual venues you visit? Most are on the other end of the state, and NC is long, so. We’re lucky if they come to Raleigh. Do you rent movies frequently? I never do, really. What is your favorite thing to do outside? Take pictures or swim. What’s your favorite meal to cook? I don’t cook. What movie has been taken WAY too far, as far as sequels go? Oh, I’m sure there are some, but none immediately come to mind. I’m not that into movies. Do you refuse to eat certain foods because of what they look like? Yes. I am VERY poor at getting past how a food looks. What are you listening to? NSP’s cover of “Don’t Fear The Reaper.” It’s fuckin gorgeous. How much homework do you have tonight? N/A Are you wearing any bracelets? Yes; one that Sara got me as well as an ovarian cancer awareness one. What's physically wrong with you right now? JINKIES I just feel really lethargic like always. Do you take any medications daily? Ha ha thanks for actually reminding me I need to now. When was the last time you moved to a new house? Two years ago, and now we’ll be moving to a much better place by the end of this month/early September, finally. When it comes to relationships, are you the jealous type? Nah. Which gift cards do you have in your wallet? Idk actually. It’s not like I use it a lot. Can you remember the last time you felt ill? What was wrong with you? A few nights ago. I was extremely hot, dizzy, and pretty nauseated. I was fine, though. If you wear make-up, do you take it with you, to reapply throughout the day? Does your make-up stay for a long time after you first apply it, or do you find that you need to reapply often? Are you wearing any make-up atm? I pretty much never wear makeup so have never really had a reason to reapply it. I’m definitely not wearing any now. Does your kitchen have a theme? No. Do you like ice cream sandwiches? GIRL yes. Do you prefer earbuds or headphones? Earbuds. They’re more comfortable imo but more importantly block out exterior noise very well. Are you a fan of any independent films? ngl, I don’t know exactly what that is and I don’t feel like looking it up. Could you possibly write a successful novel? I very genuinely think some of the RP stories I’ve taken part in are novel-worthy, yes. I wanted to make them books when I was younger, but now I no longer do mainly because there are areas that are just way too fucking dark that I don’t wanna put out there but play massive parts in the stories, so like… Do you regularly watch the news? I never do. Facebook is my “news” source lmao. Who was the last person you video-chatted with? I don’t remember for sure, maybe some doctor? What do you want the theme of your wedding to be? I don’t really think about this, seeing as my mind has changed enough, and it also depends on what my partner wants, too. Have you ever been caught passing a note in class? Noooo, I absolutely hated passing notes because I was genuinely a good student. I only did so very, very rarely if another friend started it. Have you ever had dandruff? I have dandruff AND a dry scalp. It’s a wonderful mix. Have you ever gone through a phase of crushing on EVERYONE? Definitely not. Do you have any clothes with spikes/studs on them? I have a spiked choker, and I might still have gloves with studs? Can you remember what you last clapped for? My mom’s birthday! :’) Have you ever given a pet to someone else? Yes, with cats; we had to do that quite often when I was a kid because we had so many cats, none which we could afford to fix. Then we’ve done it with two dogs we just couldn’t handle. Oh yeah, I gave my iguana away too because he was too high maintenance for me, but also because he DESPERATELY needed a much bigger terrarium, which we couldn’t afford. I absolutely could not watch him in that tiny tank. I miss him a LOT, but he went to a wonderful home! The lady who adopted him sent me pictures upon pictures months after taking him in. Do you know anyone named Walter? No. What's your least favorite ice-cream flavor? Strawberry is fucking disgusting. And that’s coming from someone whose favorite fruit is strawberries. What's your least favorite song by your favorite artist? I’m not sure. There’s a handful that just don’t grab my attention that I don’t even remember them. What was the last good news you heard? I can FINALLY talk to my psychiatrist tomorrow. Who’s your favorite singer of all time? Probably Freddie Mercury. What airline do you fly most? Idk, I don’t really pay attention. I haven’t flown very often though anyway. Do you have a dog that is destructive? I don’t have a dog. What’s one TV series you’ve seen every episode of? Meerkat Manor is the most obvious, ha ha. Maaaaany times. Assuming you have Facebook, who last left you a wallpost? Probably my friend Sammi. Assuming you have hair, how are you wearing it today? It’s too short for me to “wear” it any particular way. It’s just… there lmao. Assuming you're not homeless, what kind of living arrangements do you have? I live with my mom in a house she’s renting. Have you or have you ever considered messing around with the same sex? I’m bisexual so you can guess I’m not opposed to it. Are you particular about any brands of food you will or will not eat? Are there any restaurants you refuse to go to? Brands, no. I don’t eat Chick-fil-a because they’re run by fucking homophobic bigots that monetarily support conversion therapy and other anti-LGBT projects. I’m not giving you any fucking money. What was the most current dream you can remember about? Do you generally dream every night, or hardly at all? It was actually last night, when I dreamed about accidentally running into Jason where I last knew he worked, and he was really hostile. If I don’t take my medicine, I always have nightmares when I sleep.

[crispyapplepies]

Copy pasta improvised terra-slept-with-joshua-and-ven-is-upset-about-it fic i wrote in a discord chat for any terravens willing to overlook the present tense sketch writing, i hope you enjoy the angsty comedy drama --

so by chance, vens assigned gym partner for the day is joshua~ sora is stuck with roxas in the bg which is also amusing if you wanna know the background noise to this xD ven is an utter sweetie and has no personal problem with joshua so hes happy to pick up his slack on their activities today since he understands some people just dont care for athletics, especially when they have pretty looks to preserve for rehearsal tonight^^ at the end of class joshua offers his coy appreciation to ven who was such a cute gentleman today in getting him through that~ and then he makes some remark about how he never wouldve guessed ven even was that physically inclined given what he thought terras taste in men was~ ven lowers an eyebrow and asks "huh? what does that mean? =o=" and joshua chuckles "oh it was a long time ago, nothing to wonder about now~ i will say this though, you my friend? are one very very lucky bottom ;) keep a close eye on him." and then he saunters off to his next class. ven squints =.= hes a lil grumpy now x)

come lunch time, terra and aqua have already sat down at their usual table, seniors come in first, and theyre settled in with aqua going over some extra terms with terra for their history exam. sophomores finally file in and ven marches over with the tray of food he didnt even look at when he was at the counter. terra turns with a smile to see him and plants his usual kiss hello on his cheek as ven sits down with a slight fwomp, not responding to it. terra asks "everything okay? :o" and aqua looks over to check if hes feeling alright, not spotting any signs of sickness. ven responds almost gritting his teeth "i've been better. =_ =" terra tells aqua he'll help her study in a minute, cuz obviously upset boyfriend takes priority<3 he sinks his fingers into vens hair and asks him if he wants to talk about it. and ven takes a deep breath, trying to resume his usual Good Boi Angel attitude, gently swats terras hand away and says "Maybe later, you and aqua can go ahead and study! 8) I'll even help you if you like~" terra recognizes that this is certainly not over but hes not gonna force ven to talk or anything so he kinda nervously says okay.. and then tells aqua "Wanna quiz me?" and aqua says sure, and starts reading off the list of vocab words only for ven to suddenly smack the table and turn sharply to terra and ask "WHEN WERE YOU GONNA TELL ME YOU SLEPT WITH JOSHUA????" and terra just- O//__//O oops.. and aqua looks at terra all disappointed and grossed out and groans "Oh, terra, you didn't... >~<" and terra is so embarrassed and tries to explain to ven's scowl "i-it was a long time ago! really it meant nothing! :'D... a-and besides it was even before I met you! so.. thats- alright?" and he glances over at aqua hoping for some kind of validation but she just goes "ughh..." in the most smh big sister voice xDDD

ven exhales, trying to cool off and be rational, but his usual sweet happy face just cant help being all =_ = at terra, and he says "I guess its- fine, but- gosh, really? joshua? you didnt have feelings for him, did you? er was this just a fling? how long ago was this?" and terra stumbles to answer saying "i-it was- um... back when i first came out! people were telling me i couldnt say i was bi if i'd never had sex with a guy too, so i- had to prove it! thats all, really, it was nothing meaningful to me, honest<3 :'3 I'm not like that." as he cups vens cheeks playfully, but where theres usually a smile between puffed out cheeks theres still just a >:T ven folds his arms and tries again to collect himself and says "i guess i get it.. i guess xT thats really all it was? no more secrets?" and terra swears with his hand up and his eyes closed "I swear thats all it was v_v." aqua shakes her head and tells terra "Youre gonna owe ven preeetty big after this blows over :/" but before ven can even respond terra has already jumped in to tell her "I'll do anything to make ven happy! theres absolutely nothing to worry about~ :')" and ven is still kinda pissed but he finally says "okay. i'll let it go. here aqua, i can read off the list and quiz both of you" and aqua slides ven the paper to read off while she glares at terra who glares back at her as if to say 'drop it =.='

so thats the end of it for the day, and the next day too, but then the next day is gym again, and whatever sora and roxas are struggling with in the bg is still going on xD and ven and joshua are partners again. ven is still not comfortable with the idea of his terra sleeping with joshua, the twink incubus of the school fdkjgh but hes a nice boy so hes going to continue being nice and get joshua through this "drag of an hour, and not even the fun kind" pff joshua can kinda tell ven is pretty tense today though, unusual for him since ven is always the nicest kid in the whole school next to maybe sora. so finally near the end he asks if something's on his mind and ven realizes ack, what am i doing? there is no reason for me to be such a jerk. so he tells joshua "im really sorry, I mean it, I have no business acting like this;; i just- when i found out you slept with terra i was kinda.. uncomfortable about it to say the least, but i have no reason to be, youre perfectly nice :) besides, it was before he even met me so it doubly doesnt matter~^^" but thats where joshua raises an eyebrow. "oh? i think youre a little mixed up there cutie pie~ terra and i had sex together last year. some time after you transferred. I was amazed at the offer, really, i honestly thought that once he met you, none of us other cuties had a chance. but it looks like he landed you in the end, so it is of no matter. but i do certainly hope that you and he are happy, terra is quite the catch and we'll all be quite jealous of you til the end~ catch you around ;)" and thats the end of that conversation. ven. is. livid. 8)

so ven actually skipped lunch with his friends 8) terra looks around curiously, he still isnt showing up and hes not texting him back either. aqua asks him "doesnt ven have gym today?" and terra answers like its a dumb question pff "yeah? its thursday, everybody has gym today. its gym day." and she shakes her head at him and says "I think you should give him some space. im pretty sure i know where he is. :/" terra looks uneasy tho. "do you think hes okay?" and aqua says "oh... im sure he will be." terra grips his arms and tries not to think about it 8)

senior gym class is last period and they start filing in as the juniors file out. terra fist bumps riku on his way in xD terra is practically exempt from whatever is on the activities list cuz hes.. terra and gym class is honestly childs play pff he finishes everything in 2 seconds anyway. so usually the coach just lets him bench press for a while. highschools are bullshit xD aqua has that privilege too but she considers it a warm up before her practice later and does them anyway. terra takes his time prepping the bench, saving himself the trouble of dealing with the crowd in the locker room, and once they all run out he yoinks his gym bag up to his shoulder just to be extra pff and marches on in there to change. weird that everyone is snickering at him on their way out though... he walks inside, humming mindlessly to himself cuz gym class is his chance to relax after school before his practice. and then he half screams in surprise as his gym bag falls to the floor. ven is sitting right there in front of the lockers with the angriest look on his face terra didnt even know he /could/ make jhdfgl ven "sings" out "hello, terra. >8(" and terra just- run kdjfhglhdfsg

terra runs back to the bench as if he can just- run away from reality kdjsfhgljkdfs xDDD and start bench pressing cuz he doesnt know what else to do sdklfjhglsdj im having too much fun with this i love dumb ass jocks and soft cuties xDDD ven launches himself on top of terra pushing down on the weights terra was about to pump up and yells "YOU SLEPT WITH JOSHUA WHILE YOU WERE COURTING ME?!?!?!?!!!!"

(everyone in the gym is cackling quietly to themselves at the display sdfkjgh this AMAZING xD) terra looks up at ven in fear and stutters "I-I didnt think i had a chance with you! you didnt seem interested D:!" ven yells "OF COURSE I WAS INTERESTED YOURE JUST SHIT AT FLIRTING!!!!!!!" terra tries to calm him down "youre gonna break the bench press, ven! D:" the coach comes over at all the yelling and yells at them "HEY, break it up--" only to be shut right up when ven glares at him and growls and terra looks at him utterly terrified dfkjhg and motions for him to leave them alone. the coach is both very scared of ven xD and also doesnt wanna lose his quarterback so he smiles and holds his hands up in surrender and says "hey, you know what? why dont you two work it out amongst yourselves?^^;;; maybe somewhere that isnt my expensive bench press though?" ven yells "FINE." and grabs terra by the wrist and drags him back to the locker rooms using a scary strength terra didnt know he had dkfjglh O_O;; aqua pauses her stretches and shakes her head and mumbles "it was nice knowing you, terra. :/" and then resumes her work out xD

well ven flings terra into the locker room and shuts the door with a slam and chews him out. "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HUMILIATING THIS FEELS?!!! YOU SLEPT WITH THAT LITTLE HORNDOG AFTER I CAME HERE AND THEN YOU LIED TO ME ABOUT IT SO I HAD TO FIND OUT FROM THE HORNDOG HIMSELF?!!! GIMME YOUR BEST EXPLANATION FOR THAT, TERRA, JUST TRY ME!!!! >8UUUUUU" terra reaches out his trembling hands bravely to try and calm ven down, before he pulls his hair out and he cries out "I'm SORRY, i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry, okay, I didn't do it to hurt you!!!! It was just a small thing-" "AHAHAH IS THAT WHAT IT IS THEN??? WELL IF IT WAS SUCH A SMALL "tHinG" THEN WHY WOULD YOU LIE TO ME ABOUT IT, WHAT OTHER SECRETS HAVE YOU BEEN KEEPING?!!! DID YOU SLEEP WITH RIKU TOO? ANYMORE CHEERLEADERS I DONT KNOW ABOUT??? OR MAYBE JOSHUA AGAIN AT SOME POINT????!!! >8'DDDD"   ven is about to lose his mind sdjfhg terra is starting to feel upset too ;~; "No, I don't have anymore secrets, after we started dating I havent even so much as THOUGHT of anyone else! I mean that! :'U" he pleas, finally managing to place loving hands on vens shoulders as he prays for forgiveness dkfjhg ven finally just cries it out letting himself sob into his palms and terra steps in closer, hating to see ven cry, and this is much worse knowing hes the cause of it ;-;

ven glances up again, terras scent hitting him and that warm chest right in front of him that he loves and he just buries his face in it not knowing what else to do dkfgh terra holds him, stroking his back, mulling over in his head how many ways he could apologize for this but then ven pushes himself away again, hes still so upset >~< and he sniffles "why. did you lie to me about it." terras face goes red and he fishes for his words "because i- i care what you think ven." ven scoffs, but his frown hardens and he wipes his eyes "you care what i think, and so you LIED to me? what am i supposed to think?" terra replies quickly "i dont know :'u i guess i just didnt want you to think..." ven holds himself and turns away. terra supposes he has to just- be honest then, its worth a try if  it keeps him from losing the love of his life. "Look, I- I lied because the way you look at me matters to much. I care what you think of me more than anyone else, ven." ven sniffles, his back still turned to terra "oh yeah?" and terra glides over to turn him around and look at him, taking vens hands in his. "yes! ven youre the nicest, kindest, most pure hearted person i've ever met. i cant even imagine there being a darkness in your heart. who even says "slept with" and "courted" anymore besides a sweetheart like you? youre like an angel to me, but i- dont have the best reputation anymore. and the number of partners ive had seemed to disgust you. it broke my heart the way you looked at me the other day knowing that id slept with joshua. like you thought i was- i dunno.. im sorry i did it, i really am. i never wouldve done it if i'd known you really did want me too." ven reaches up and places a hand to terras cheek promising "Terra, I think the world of you. i wouldnt be with you if i didnt think you were a great person. the best even! you know how much i admire you. i just- was I just a fling? how do i know im not the next joshua or shiki you sl- have sex with and drop?"

and terra leans down to kiss his forehead and chuckles "because you're you, silly." that gets ven smiling again, the cornier the better with him<3 he presses his nose to terras chest and slides his arms up over his back for a tight hug and terra is so relieved they got through that dkfgjhdjl f ven tells him "I'm sorry for making you feel judged. i was way too rash about that whole thing." terra tells him its alright, imeanididlietoyouafterallahem.. ven goes = _= for just a second, cuz yeah that sure wasnt cool dfkjgh but he removes it cuz mostly hes back to smiling and he pulls himself away to look up at terra again, admitting with a blush "i guess i'm still in disbelief that youre really mine. maybe in 5 years or something i'll believe it" ven chuckles at his joke, but terra smiles down at him very sincerely and says "then i'm counting the years with you til then~" and that just tickles him and he jumps up to give terra make up smooches for a while<3 eventually they emerge from the locker room, ven clearly looking like hed been crying but smiling away again, even feeling okay enough to go to class now, cuz hes a good boy who wouldnt just ditch at that point like i would xD terra looks relieved too. aqua breaks formation when she sees them come out and runs up to ven to ask if hes okay and hug him if he needs, but ven says "everythings fine :) thanks aqua~" and aqua looks up at terra to double check that and terra nods affirmatively that yes, everything is fine. ven nudges aqua "see you at practice today~" and waves at terra too, knowing he prefers not to smooch in front of the other seniors;; but terra tells him to hang on and he runs over to give him a smooch goodbye and all is well after that<3 and axel snarks "tchh- drama queens :/"

[prorevenge]

Steal our money and abuse your children? Good Luck with life.

I would just like to put this out there that while I still am a minor, this culminated only last year. Also, I am based outside the US, Canada and Europe, so perhaps some laws may differ. I also suck at languages. Sorry if it gets too long. NSFW tag is needed for details further on. This is a new account, so there will be people who call this fake, and I apologise if this comes off as so.

During the 2008 financial crisis, my father had (ironically) received a promotion based on a project that had rolled out worldwide a few months ago. While his salary only received an increment upgrade, he received a healthy stock bonus (I think that is what they called). As a form of celebration, he decided to buy the apartment we were (and still are living) in and give it a fresh coat of paint (i.e. renovate the house completely). He bought it at well below the market price and the previous owner was more than happy to get the home of his hands so that he could pay off the loan on it. All done and said, my father looked around for a renovator who would work at a reasonable price.

He eventually found one who was ready to do the work at a fraction of the cost the others were doing it at, and after settling on designs and material choices, we moved out of the house and into a service apartment while they began to do the work over 6 months. Now, my father is a very naive person. He believes in the good every being, and will give everything if it means it will help you. The renovator, who we shall name as James, seemed a pitiful character at first. He claimed to be severely overworked by the owners, and had been looking for a way to set up his own business. He non directly was insinuating that my father lend him some money, but, as it was the midst of the financial crisis, my father assured he will try his best to help James out.

Over the 6 months, my younger sister and I got very close to James' two children; twin sisters (Violet and Bella) who were of my age. We would meet often at the local playground, while my father and James would discuss how to help James out with his idea for a business. My father would always recommend a lender, but James would always refuse, stating some bullshit excuse about how he does not want to be tied up. Eventually, my father gave in, and scrubbed together $10,000 to help James bankroll his own renovation business (which in hindsight makes no sense because how do you set up a renovation business with only $10,000). James was very grateful for this and promised to return the money back, and my Father had a contract created with the help of a lawyer, and both James and him signed it.

After the 6 months was over, we moved in. The house was in a great condition, and us kids loved it. But strangely, right after we picked up the keys from James, we never heard a word from in. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and finally months into years, and yet we could never trace James or his kids (he had no wife), and my father did not get his money back, which was a severe strain on us for a year and a bit more. We lodged a police report, but found that this was only one amongst many cases that were against James, and the name and details we had received from him were fake. They were ghosts.

This really depressed my father, because it opened his eyes to the type of people that were around him, and the fact that even if he wanted to look for the good in people and help them, he would always be taken advantage of, regardless of whether it was in the office or in social life.

Fast forward a few years to around March of 2017, and I had just entered the final two years of my schooling education. At the time, I was 15, while my classmates were between 16-17 (I skipped a grade when I was younger, and thus, will still, legally, be a minor when I graduate this year). During the first day of orientation, I picked out two familiar faces in the crowd, that at first I could not put my finger on who they were, and this was strange because I had been in this school for many years and could easily recognise anybody. It took me a few days, and looking at them carefully during classes, to realise that the two new girls who had joined were Violet and Bella themselves, albeit with completely different names and in a bad shape. I approached them at first, thinking they would recognise me, but they never did (and had), and were kind of apprehensive the first few weeks. They did not make many friends at school.

But over time, I managed to get through their armour, and, while they were still not entirely comfortable with me, it was miles better than how the rest of the school treated them. And this was when I actually got a good look at how they had turned out. There were many scars on their hands, any time parents or family were mentioned in the conversation, they basically turned off and went ghost white, and if a boy came even within 2 metres of them, they would turn as white as a sheet or become very agitated. The school counsellor had also notice this, and asked their parents (James essentially) about this, but he played dumb when asked questions and claimed he did not know why these were occurring (just a note, I found this out later but added it here because it helps the flow of the events). I realised something was horribly wrong nearly the instant I saw them but this confirmed it.

Over the same time, my friends and I tried to include them in as many activities as possible, and we took as many pictures with them (and every time somebody took out a camera they would shudder) as possible under the guise of memories, but I mostly kept them as evidence because I had a feeling this was not a good story. It is also important to note I had not told my father that James' children were in my school as it would only trigger bad memories for him and I did not want him to go through the same phase again.

After collecting these pictures, my friends and I made a beeline for the counsellor. The pictures showed in greater details the type of scars that the two sisters had on their hands and feet, which aren't visible in school uniform as our uniform consists of long pants and a full sleeve shirt. I am pretty sure the counsellor and us had a good idea where these scars had come from, but the pictures only was not really great evidence to James arrested, but it was enough to have our country's CPS equivalent get involved. And let me tell you, these guys do not mess around. They have their own division of military trained "police" officers and are relatively well funded, will go to any lengths to thoroughly investigate a case, and will ruin your life if they even doubt you.

After submitting the pictures, and learning a case was opened, we were not involved in much else as we were still minors. That was, until a few months after (December of 2017), when my friends and I were pulled out of class by the principal, and were taken to the local police station were a representative of CPS was waiting for us. They were very polite, and wanted to know more information about the case. Apart from what were in the pictures, and what we gave, my friends could not provide much else. Neither could I, but I saw the representatives eyes light up for a second when I mentioned about who the father was and how he had cheated our family. But apart from that, we did not hear much after that, other than they might need us as witnesses (I am sorry if this comes off as wrong but this is what I recall) if the case proceeds onto court.

Some weeks later (January of 2018), my father received a call from the police to come down for the case on James (I don't think it was ever closed due to the sheer magnitude of number of cases against James). Apparently they had let him know that there was a new lead on where James might be and he might be needed later on. They also let him know that CPS was on the case too, so he should expect a call soon on them for their case on James (I think they now believed that James was behind the scars). My father had known by know that I had gone to the counsellor with pictures of Bella and Violet being potentially abused, as the principal had called him up on the day CPS had pulled me out of class for an interview, so he had fully expected this, and was seething with anger because a man he had thought to be good had stolen his money and abused his own daughters.

After that, I do not know what happened for a long time. Bella and Violet remained in school, more drawnback than ever, and my friends and I were not contacted any more. Until one day, around June of 2018, just before we broke for summer, when they were met outside of school by a representative of CPS. I was a close friend of them by now, so I was walking with them to the bus stop, when we were met by the representative. He asked me to continue on, as he had to ask them a few questions. I moved on, fully expecting what was to happen. It didn't take long.

Around end September of 2018, CPS contacted my father and I, as well as my friends, regarding the case, They needed some things (I could not go that day as I had been hospitalised for a compound fracture), so my father went for the both of us (he could sign for me as I was still a minor and he was a legal guardian). When he came back, he was truly shocked. It turns out the problem was far more than I expected. My father had signed an NDA, as had my friends, and even though I had been involved, I could not get much out of them except that my friends and I had started something huge.

Come December 2018, and finally I found out just what we had started. The entire article was printed in the papers (James, Bella, Violet, my friends and I, and my father were not named due to a gag order to protect the identity of the victim; other than us lot, nobody else in the school or society, to my knowledge, knew who the children in question were).

Bella and Violet had not only been physically abused by James with the use of pipes and belts, but they had been raped by James multiple times, and their reaction to the camera, which I mentioned earlier, was due to the fact that James had been recording his rapings of his Bella and Violet, and had been trying to sell them to snuff sites on the dark web. In addition to this, he had cheated nearly 15 victims (including my father) out of nearly $200,000.

The book was thrown at James, mainly due his treatment of Bella and Violet, as well as due to another incident which had happened when he was being arrested, but I will not mention it because it, on its own, will give away where I am from. He was given multiple life sentences, no chance of parole, and was also given another punishment that is not used in other countries, but I will not mention it because it identifies where I am, but I am guessing the smart people here will be able to find out just what it is anyway.

I am also pretty sure the people in prison will do not take kindly to child rapists, so he is in hell. Which is good. Because that is all he deserves.

I do not know where Bella and Violet are, they were pulled out as soon as court proceedings began.

(source) story by (/u/TakeRevengeAsALiving)

[whats-the-story-tc]

13th of March, 2020

"The One with V's Sister"

[REALLY LONG ONE. I got her back for a day, you best believe I'm savouring every single goddamn second.]

Shenanigans below the cut:

Another day, another ponytail. :-)

I dreamt with her again the night before. We were at this school event and I introduced her to my Dad. As they shook hands, Dad was wondering where he'd heard her name, then asked me if she was the one I always kept talking about. V just chuckled and said that I am her best student, but I never tell her stuff like that. Dream-me was probably blushing profusely.

Right. So. Morning. Bandana Friend and I were at the secretary's office to ask for something and lo and behold, there's V in her usual seat turned towards the door, hands glued to her phone, hair pulled back. I got really excited. I had two whole classes to drink in the sight, and I simply couldn't wait. "Whoop, there she is!" Bandana Friend told me. "Yeah, I saw her. And her hair is up!" We got excited, then remembered we said it loud enough that she could've heard. A laugh was had.

After that encounter, I was informed that we were to write a pretty important test in V's class that I didn't even know about. I tied my hair back as well, and spent the whole of my History class rather anxiously cramming anything and everything Grammar-related. Class ended, and my classmates were pleading with me to try and convince V to postpone the test a little, because she likes me. (It's not worth much, though. They say that about every teacher.) I told them that even though she does, she wouldn't listen to me, either. "There's no getting a plan out of that woman's head," I said.

Turns out, I was once again boo boo the fool. V decided to axe the test and have us write it a week later. I could've kissed her. I actually went: "MISS!" out loud from the surprise, hands thrown up in the air. And not only did she axe the test, she told us exactly what to expect and what we need to know, when we eventually DO write it. And, even though we'd previously discussed everything she mentioned, she took the time to go through everything once again, explain every important thing one by one. And she spoke English again! Okay, it was one word, when she brought up euphony, and said how everyone says German is a violent, angry language because of its phonetics, and brought up the classic "butterfly/Schmetterling" example I'm sure most of you are familiar with.

As she was talking about stylistic value, and how it can differ depending on the context, she brought up the very word she called me the last time we shared a walk, the one I translated as 'babydoll'. I immediately started smiling. Pleasant memories. And, as she went on, now talking paradoxes, she brought up the epigram I associate with her. Odi et amo. I looked away from her with a bittersweet smile. I couldn't believe this was actually happening. But the rest of the time, I couldn't keep my eyes away when I wasn't writing. There was always something to look at. Her hair, her eyes, her smile, her coffee mug necklace, her outfit and body (*cough* low-cut T-shirt *cough*) and basically everything. Cynical Twat (who no longer sits behind me) had his eyes on me for a while, while I was looking at her like she hung the stars. I think he's onto my ass. Fuck.

We also spoke about the other class in our year, as they came up. I asked V if they were ahead of us, as she said she keeps mixing up what she discussed with us and them, and she told me we were basically even at the moment. Then came the obvious question from Blond Boy in the Back: who does she like more? V was very reluctant to answer that, not wanting to generate tension between us, and only wound up saying that we were a lot more disciplined while the other bunch act more freely, and that she likes them and they'll mature someday. She also mentioned she has class with them in really unfortunate time slots and that not even the best class would want anything to do with her or her subject in 7th/8th period. I was about to protest, but I remembered it would be best not to. It's not like she'd respond, anyway.

Towards the end of class, we practised recognising different types of symbolism in poetry. There was this one about tree branches throwing black bouquets on the ground. I wondered what it meant — exactly until the very moment V asked us what it meant. That's when I realised it referred to shadows, and said it immediately. V didn't look at me, just pointed at me as she repeated my answer. She didn't have to reach far — she was standing right next to me. It was quite the common occurence in that very class, as she kind of alternated between standing at the board and by my side. Brb, gotta go get my tinfoil hat.

I also remember the two of us (ft. Comparison Boy I think, but mostly just V and me) having a short debate about whether or not this one famous poem was picture poetry or not. We were so persistent that V ended up telling us something along the lines of "Okay, it can be viewed as such, but technically, it isn't." Ha! Success :)

At the end of class, just to get a proper conversation out of her, I trotted up to her to ask if the definitions of metonymy and synecdoche I jotted down for myself after a bit of extra research were passable. She said that she'd word them a little differently, but technically, they were passable. Cool. End of story.

...at least I thought so. But more on that later.

She gave us back our earlier tests, one Grammar I fucked up here (I only got a B for it, my perfectionist ass can't take it), and the Literature one from here. A+. Huh. And, for once in her life, V actually signed a test! (I'm not exaggerating when I say I've never seen her signature in the past, nearly 2 years.) But what was best, is that when we looked at Debate Friend's test, couldn't finish her essay and barely wrote anything, under it stood, in red V-cursive: "I know you ran out of time." You guys, she gave her maximum points for it! We were full-on gushing when we saw it. Angels walk among us, I tell you.

Later, I had a splitting headache in (foreign) English, and told Curly Friend that I probably would suffer through my upcoming last class of the day if it wasn't going to be with V. I think I told her I always go to V's classes to catch a break. Not because they're easy, but because I can relax and listen to things I love hearing about, from a woman I love listening to. He told me that V was feeling pretty poorly, too (he had double class with her after she was with us), which surprised me. Aside from one story she told us about her dad (she mentioned both her parents today which she doesn't usually do), she was rather very smiley and energised from the very start of class with us. The only time I saw her be more serious was when I spoke to her after class. There was something about her eyes I noticed, but didn't think much into it. The usual sharp-cold fox eyes (I thought it through, they're more fox-like than cat-like), piercing right through the soul upon first glance. Now I realise how tired she must have been.

7th period Literature, aka where things genuinely started getting crazy. Whew. Here we go. Just before we actually got started, my homeroom teacher showed up and called V outside for a minute. You'll later see why. Then, class proceeded as usual. V set up everything, then put on a video about romanticism era here, at home. But, as per usual, V couldn't stop herself from making notes on the board and pausing the video to add her own commentary. Most of the time, she was crouching beside her laptop, with a complete disregard to me looking at her instead of the video whenever she did that. Once the video was over, she explained some things, her back against the board. She realised she got a whole person's name wrong, and, upon noticing she smudged the writing a little, she remarked "I hope I wiped the board with my hair again," and reached for her ponytail. I was laughing to myself. What do you mean again, love? My dearest, the train wreck.

Second video, about this play based on a queen's assassination in the medieval times. V said it was a tragedy, and asked us what a tragedy was. As I was trying to lace my thoughts together, I did notice that quick look she stole at me that basically said "Come on, Specs, you're the drama expert, say something or this is gonna get really awkward." Me and this other boy did manage to answer, though. After that, it was video time. V took a seat on an empty desk at the other side of the classroom, so she wouldn't block the view. Coincidentally, I had perfect view of both the screen and her. And that's where everything started getting mad.

She noticed. As I was watching her reactions, she turned to me and looked me in the eye before turning back to the video. And after that, though I didn't dare to look at her as much, most, if not all my gazes were returned. When the title character eventually stabbed the queen, she let out this extremely ridiculous scream straight out of a cartoon (well, they WERE cartoon silhouettes after all). I look at V, she looks back at me with this smile of "yeah, I know". Thing is, even in the next 'scene' with a trial, taking place presumably days later, the queen's body was still on the ground. I couldn't help myself, and asked "And they just left the queen there?" V burst into a grin as she looked at me to say "No!". This time last year, I used to get very Done™ looks for this kind of joke, and no verbal response at all. We're getting somewhere, ladies and gentlemen and enby people.

After the video ended, I actually raised my hand this once, to point something out. V was about to start speaking, but said "Yeah?" when she saw my hand up, dropping that train of thought immediately. I talked about how ironic it was that only the queen and her brother's silhouettes were black, and the rest of them were white. As I thought, it symbolised who were meant to be the good guys and the bad guys. I also brought up chess, which V agreed to, and I could see she was glad that there's someone who actively pays attention to detail.

I said it was mad before? Whoo, boy, then it's about to get insane.

Class ends, and V is packing. I was standing there anyway, so I thought I'd help a teensy bit, putting the projector cable away for her so she only had to deal with her laptop. I got a "Many thanks" for it when she noticed. And then. Oh, then. I'm standing beside her desk, not saying a goddamn word, and she, completely unprompted, starts talking to me about the play in depth. She didn't even call my name to get my attention, because she knew I'd be listening. (Been there, done that.) She told me that she finds the plot interesting, and as an adult, she can appreciate it, but the whole thing is written in such a dry and complicated way (she frowned saying this), that she can't help but have mixed opinions about it.

These are all things she mentioned in class before and needn't have repeated, but I was kinda glad she did. I let her talk, adding my own opinion whenever I felt like it, drinking in the fact that she wanted to talk to me specifically about it. I told her that as an actress, I find the characters interesting and I'd love to do this play because the plot really does sound interesting. The look she gave me... she looked me in the eyes, not a word said. It wasn't the fox eyes, it felt more like she was focused on me. There was a depth to it, a silent intensity. I have no idea what she could've been thinking, but I think she might have tried to imagine it. "We'll continue this on Tuesday." she told me, as the bell was about to ring. Lmao, as if.

But it didn't end there, oh, no. Sorry, you have to read a little longer. When she left the classroom, I realised: "Hold on there, V, I'm not done with you yet" and immediately went after her. She walked over to Art Friend, who was writing a test outside, at a nearby table, to check up on how she's doing. Me being me, as they finished talking, and more of my friends started to gather around, I decided to check up on how V's doing. And — you guys aren't going to believe this —, for once, she didn't ignore me asking her how she was! She said that even though she wasn't a hundred percent well, she was doing fine. She didn't plan on not being at school on Tuesday, but life got in the way. (She even explained how, we goin' personal in here.) She didn't say anything when I told her to take care of herself, but I didn't really expect her to.

(From here, our topics might not be in chronological order, because I literally don't remember how it happened.)

There we were, on opposite sides of that table, facing each other directly. "Is the weather changing again, Miss? Is that why my head is splitting apart?" I asked her, thinking adults always know about the weather anyway. "Maybe. Or you're just sick and we're all going to die." she told me as she was putting stuff into her laptop bag. "Oh, great. Bright future you're predicting for me, Miss, thank you." I responded, somewhere along the lines of this. I don't remember the exact thing. "We're all going to die one day, aren't we?" "Well, yeah..." "Just think about all the times we could've died as children..." Bright and optimistic topic in the middle of a goddamn pandemic, courtesy of our very own Miss V. But me and Debate Friend chimed right in with our stories anyway. If there are two people who are ride-or-die with V's weird shit, it's us.

I remembered what happened the previous day, Comparison Boy calling me by her name. "[Art Friend], should I tell her about [Comparison Boy and co.]?" I asked my friend out loud, because I know V absolutely hates not knowing stuff. "Oh, Lord, what happened?" V asked immediately, both elbows on the table, watching curiously. See? This is why I adore teasing her. It's the reaction. "Long story short, they don't call me by my name anymore." I said, not daring to look up at her, no matter how coy I was being. Inside, I was still afraid of what she'd say to being compared to me. "Whose, then?" No going back. "Well, yours, Miss." I admitted. Immediately, I heard a "No." of disbelief, and there we were, both of us grinning at the accusations and me talking about how different we are on the inside. "[Curly Friend] found me with his theory, too." V told me, and now I was the one not believing her. I couldn't believe he told her! "What theory?" Art Friend asked. V seemed to have a hard time putting it into words so I helped out. "That she is me 10 years into the future." Yup. That's an actual theory he has. V looked a little... not withdrawn, even though she was leaning away from the table, but... awkward? But to be honest, we both were. "[Curly Friend] is nice, I like him, but if only he had this much creativity for studying..." V said, to close the topic off. Bwahaha.

At some point, my homeroom teacher came over to us when she saw us chatting, giving V's shoulder a little stroke as she walked past behind her to get next to her. I saw V crack a smile, this little, but very pleased one. Theirs is an unlikely friendship, but I stan it so much. She asked V about how Blond Boy in the Back was doing, as he was quite pale, and V said she noticed (she even asked him if he was alright) but nothing really extreme happened. After all the times he'd disrespected her, it's amazing how much V still cares about him. Then, my homeroom teacher mentioned a potential new teacher who might be coming soon (not anymore I guess lmao) and I burst into a fed-up "Again?". We all know what happened last time, after all. V grinned and muttered a half-impressed, half-unbelieving "She says 'Again?'..." to herself.

Art Friend brought up a British actor, but didn't know his name. (I couldn't guess she was talking about James McAvoy until she said His Dark Materials.) She said she was handsome, and V immediately said "I think I know who you're thinking about, and he's not that handsome." I was fully hollering. It was a shorter-lived convo bit, but V mentioned that she cries at every little thing. Now, that's an exaggeration right there, Miss. Also, I'm not entirely sure it was at this point, but sometime during the conversation, I nearly reached out and took her hand as a comforting gesture after something that was said, but stopped myself as soon as my hand moved. I couldn't do that. I had to know my place.

You know what I'm going to miss most about seeing V face-to-face? Her incredibly telling eyes, that speak for her every given minute. This whole conversation through, she was looking at us with this soft, crinkled-up-to-the-point-they're-half-closed eyes, the look a mixture of bliss and calmness... maybe even pride at a push. She looked like there genuinely wasn't anything she'd rather do in that very moment, but talk to us. She is an angel, let me tell you. I don't deserve her.

When she eventually got going, Debate Friend ran ahead (I gave her a Done™ look for a joke and she just bolted off), while V and I walked together. "Are [Curly Friend] and [Debate Friend] related by any chance?" she asked me. "Same hair, same smile, similar personality..." "Well, if we can be compared, so can they." I smiled back. Then something happened I didn't and couldn't account for. Debate Friend shot back, though I don't exactly remember how she worded it, that V and I could be related as well. And I mentally took a deep breath, fully aware of the risk I was taking, and exclaimed, grinning:

"I have an older sister! I've always wanted a sister!"

I can't possibly begin to comprehend that smile. She didn't say anything, but she closed her eyes and her lips pulled up into this really bright smile, something like this emoji: 😊, discount the blush. It went through my mind later that she did it because she was annoyed with me or thought me stupid and she was trying to mask it, then I remembered... it's V. She wouldn't do that, couldn't pretend if she tried. So that leaves us with one explanation: she was glad I said that. She actually liked me saying that and didn't mind being called my sister. I still don't believe it. It was the same smile as the one she said that "Oh, come on!" with on Wednesday, so she might even have been... flattered? Impossible.

Once she called out Debate Friend for addressing a teacher by her last name only, no honorific, she walked away and out of sight, smiling and waving goodbye to us. And that was the last time I saw her in the flesh — possibly for a very long time.

Later that day, I mentioned her and how much she helped me to my psychologist, who used to work in my school a while back. Last time I was there and I spoke about her, she didn't remember V, but now she was fully aware who I was talking about, if a bit surprised. "I never would've thought she is so... sentimental," she said. Me neither, doc. Honestly, me neither. But here we are. She was glad I found someone who helps me this much and I wholeheartedly agreed. How could I not?

It's been a little over a week since all this happened. Online school is kicking my ass, but I'll be fine. I have her. Still... I miss school a lot. I miss hugging my friends and doodling in classes and the thrill of scanning the corridors for a glimpse of a certain Miss V walking past. Here's to hoping it gets better soon. Until then, all of you take care, stay safe and stay home.

~ S ♡

[Every story I share here, no matter how specific I get with my wording, depicts actual events from my own life.]