#and I end up having to go through her meds and google them to figure out which ones she can take at certain times etc.

[howtobeamagicalgirl]

:l

[purple-compromise]

[A fun BLU Specialist-centric fic submitted by @taytay4674788 Thank you so, so much for sharing this!! 💜]

Yeah this took a while between tumblr being weird with glitches and going back and forth with support on unresolved issues since October. But I think I found a temporary way to submit stuff to you at least at the moment ( at least 8 pages of fic in google docs).

I originally wanted to do a double take moment via a dream but it didn’t make much sense to do so with red spesh(and that’s going to be with a different character instead ;) )… So I ended up doing an eight page half character study half second half story with Blu spesh instead, as I enjoy making characters suffer having them question their own morals! It might be Ooc for both blu med(to be fair blu med would likely relish in torture in you wronged him or to send a message, especially if it’s from the enemy team) and blu spesh but I’d love to hear thoughts anyway since it’s been nearly a solid year since my last actual fic, on top of the fact that this is my first reader fic and first time writing the mercs. There is a part one to this fic, I just held it off since I had better flow with this one and I’m still trying to figure out dialogue, characterization and a few other details so the period of time is intentionally vague so it can act as a stand alone.All I know is that it takes place after chapter 31 in TIWWAN, and this is on the in-game Badlands control point map, not Teufort, not the overall arching map of The Badlands.

Very important distinction.

_______________

You aren’t a bad person for taking this job. You knew that you’d get money,good money. Highest pay rate than anywhere in this backwater wasteland to send back home and still have enough to indulge into cigarettes daily from the dinky corner store in town.

So should it disturb you as much as it really should?

You kill each other out on the field every day, with most of the time the Red bastards push through to capture a point. So really it should be an equal retribution in all things considered. She kills you, you kill her. It’s all equal in the circle of life in a private war funded by cash that even the IRS wouldn’t shy an eye away from collecting all of it if it weren’t for Miss Pauling. You may have been the family disappointment to drop out of college, but you’re sure as hell that you’re not letting your sister do so. She has viable dreams to chase, well you, just need a little more time to figure it out.

Flicking open the nice red and white packaging of your care unit of cigarettes into your crisp uniform pocket of your assigned blue uniform, hair neatly tucked and out of the way. Counting under your breath the fresh cigarettes left in your case; you’ll be going to town this weekend to get some more. You’ve been saving the ones Spy has acquired for you, towards .. a later occasion, for when it really matters. For now, the ones from the corner store are going to suffice, even if it just tastes like chemically processed tobacco.

Your boots, a bit dusty from today’s scrimmage against those Red team bastards, click gently against the quiet blue dirt stained concrete. Making your way out through the hall passing cold steel to have a quiet smoke, the hum of electricity droning a bit too loudly in your ears for your taste. Maybe staring up at the stars for a bit if it isn’t cloudy again tonight. Sometimes it brings peace when you can’t listen to rerun broadcasts of Earplay on the radio that Engineer built for your team, that is when you could get more than the two stations Tuefort has and.. When you’re in the mood.. For that sort of.. Media. Yet, it’s a bit of romance and entertainment you needed while waiting for The Firesign Theatre to release their latest album of dramas.

Art keeps you human, on a fragile equilibrium from diving into the pure insanity that is your team. Being paid to kill humans, who well, keep reviving through technology that most would strive to get their hands on to achieve immortality. It can be a nasty sentiment that you don’t like to think about when it crawls up. How humans with bonds can and will destroy each other over the smallest discrepancies out of greed.

The uncanny valley isn't a physical place, only one of the mind. Diving straight into your soul. To unsettle yourself from the basic facts of life.. At least.. As you know them.

Does it unsettle you, walking past the infirmary in the evening, peeking through the infirmary double doors carelessly left open as if it was an actual medical emergency. It probably would’ve been, if the ones screaming bloody murder weren’t .. feminine screams, ones that match your own after taking a buckshot to the back. To witness a struggle between your team's medic and a visage of yourself trying to fend back clearly being overpowered from experimental medicine. Her blood, iron instead of standard antiseptic, attacking your senses. Nearly being able to taste it despite it being scattered on the floor and not on your hands this time. A mess against the contrast of the lack of life in the sterile halls collecting dust and oil. Fluorescent lights screaming out with a buzz with an underlying static tone against your heart rate. One needle that you can tell, already sticking out from her dominant arm, it’s different from the standard syringes your medic uses while in battle. Then again he’s mentioned offhand about a crossbow type weapon that he’s been gloating in development as of late, at least whenever you had an issue that a cigarette couldn't solve. His blue scheme of a lab coat is disrupted by large splotches of crimson soaking into the material on his shoulder, while she is struggling to keep awake. Grimacing on her face definitely indicates that something more than–

“Fräulein!-”

The loud slamming of metal trays holding medical instruments against the concrete floor in an escape attempt off the gurney forces you to jump back in a bit of pain and out of sightline. The sudden loudness to look away from the sight, forcing you out of your thoughts to cower, covering your ears. Gunshots are one thing, metal on concrete is probably worse. Oh definitely you’re going to get her on the battlefield for that one.

For only a moment that you consider that maybe he has one shred of decency in him. He rarely, if never takes a charity case on the field, especially for the enemy team. Perhaps that there’s actually a moral compass in there somewhere; trying to maybe preserve her life from whatever injuries—

Smack!

The sickening short sound echoing out of the infirmary reverberates against your heart. Shouts of insulting degradation, an unnatural sounding crack resulting in a sharp feminine cry of pain shortly following his remarks. Something you aren’t accustomed to outside of combat, especially not coming from yourself.

A quiet sigh further reinforces your gut judgment of character into actual fact of life about your medic. Not surprising in the slightest. Blue is not a calming color on this team, regardless of what literary analysis says.

Glancing back in as your team’s medic degrades your red counterpart, her coat’s thrown across the floor soaking up drying blood. No sign of visible weaponry as far as you could tell between the scuffling. You don’t know a lick of German, and don’t care to learn, but his expression reads of one who clearly has the upper hand in this fight as far as you can tell. His weight shifts quickly to keep her pinned down with one arm as she still flails to get him off. She is rightfully terrified, attempting to calculate another escape route struggling against the gurney, not seeing a needle sedative of some sort ready to inject into her flesh; hiding behind his back presumably grabbing from one of the smaller trays not immediately by the gurney. Only for your counterpart to use any means of what’s left functioning to get away from him, grasping at the restraints to undo them one handedly. Really the only time you could sympathize with her. If you could help her, you would. Her death is on the battlefield, not one on one with your medic who breaks femurs for amusement. As of now, you can only offer pity.

He’s absolutely playing god for his own benefit, and dialing it up beyond 10. Evidently in the vindictive smile he wears as his blue gloved hand wrapped around her throat. Relishing in her distorted chokes, her body still convulsing to fight his grip. Probably leaving a bruise if she doesn’t get sent through respawn first. Her distress is that his other hand is probably touching open wounds, likely in retaliation of some sort.

It’s something you’ve known all along, nor does it surprise you by any means. However, a human trained in pharmaceuticals to lose their shit on a patient who’s at a current physical disadvantage.. And torturing them in a way to send a message, seeking vengeance outside of the battlefield, leaves a distaste in your mouth.

It furthers your questioning of how your own medic sees you. You already knew that he sees you as a sack of organs waiting to be mixed and matched into a chimera abomination. A chill courses down into your spine in a pale realization.

Who’s to stop him from treating you the same way he does her? A paycheck?

You need a cigarette.

You don’t think that you’re a bad person, the medic on your team would absolutely flip your organs around like a 1,000 piece puzzle, pushing the limit of functioning. Interfering with his latest vanity project of immortality, is not worth being under the knife instead of your counterpart. That’s a fight between him and his counterpart for data, not you to be a martyr for someone who knew what she signed up for. Shrieks and swears threaten to distract you from your internal justifications once again.

It hits you, she’s been able to beat you down on the field before and has most definitely sent you straight back to respawn before. She should be able to defeat this man single handedly by all things considered in terms of adrenaline strength, you think. Briefly glossing over that Engineer had stayed back to test out a prototype of a sentry model and a few other machines outside. Mentioned it back at dinner a couple nights back about improving positioning and range, recalling that conversation in your mind. But even then, a normal sentry hasn’t completely taken her down with her shield without an übercharge, it at least hasn’t with your own shield by any means when you’re paying attention and not getting shot at from their loudmouth Scout. For now, you stare back to the corkboard filled with notes neatly laying on beige and blue paint on the walls. Looking for a rationalized answer, as if the corkboard of past events and reminders would just give it to you.

Memory flickers back from earlier before shift, Medic mentioning about a crossbow weapon in development. Something about needing a longer range, in order to focus on building über to take out the Red team, truly you have a tendency to tune out the bastard most of the time. Really it wouldn’t surprise you if it was really an excuse for him to just build über with Heavy. He’d probably stick that Medigun of his right up Heavy's ass if he physically could with how he doesn’t heal much of anyone else on his own team, except at the beginning of the match. Your eyes slowly search back into the blast of fluorescents, she still wriggling under his touch, an animal trying to gnaw off its leg caught in a trap to escape.

She probably would’ve struck equal if the ever increasing mass of needles, at least one that you’re guessing is a numbing agent, weren't stuck in her dominant arm. Only one of them you recognize from surgery, the others just look indistinguishable from his syringe gun but its size forces you to swallow down spit in your dry throat. Her fingers are trying to feel for something as the metal doesn’t feel crisp, spitting at your medic in disgust. Mentioning something about adjusting the contents of whatever he shot her with, the nut case being overwhelmingly gleeful about it too. Her, while you give her credit for being a fighter, slowly keeps searching to leverage against. Anything to try and gain an advantage.

Her eyes, realizing you are still staring into a macabre mirror of horror, locking into yours, silently pleading to you for a swift death. Something to get out of his hands. The air drops into a cold you haven’t felt in sometime, as all you could do was stare back at her. Reaching out if her closest arm wasn’t restrained down against the gurney, minimally in spirit. At least for a moment, before a natural response averts the moment into one of resistance from instruments of surgery to shredding flesh.

Is it wrong to outright deny mercy in a power imbalance to your enemy who is clearly begging for it?

Would she grant that same mercy to you?

The flashes of her pleading for death on a doctor's gurney in your mind, processing the unnaturality of it. Not that you fight her everyday over god knows what, or that she’s in surgery, the contrast of red outside the battlefield is supposed to be the remnants of blood medic should be cleaning up. Not dissecting a patient from the enemy team after hours.

For you to imagine intervening and putting a bullet between her eyes out of mercy has a different moment of surrealism. Yes you’ve insulted, spat on, kicked, trampled over her corpse, and probably broke her nose with more force than necessary more than a few times during work hours.. you.. easily forget when indulging in victory when the final bell rings at 3pm.. just not 7:38 in the evening, looking at a reflection where a mirror isn’t supposed to be.

You really need a cigarette.

Peeling yourself away from the sights and sounds of yourself, jittery hands reach for a lighter in the opposing pocket. Deliberately ignoring the drying blood on the floors trailing through the halls, that you noticed taking a second glance. The scent of iron you didn’t create slowly leaves your senses. Forcing the chilling screams fading back into echoes once again. Letting your body go on autopilot towards a quieter spot towards the exit door as the sounds of the infirmary become mere echoes. To the sound of comforting footsteps at this moment in time. Flipping the lip of the white and red box to reach for the safe constant of tobacco.

The Badlands despite being a natural wasteland spanning several acres.. Does have its own natural beauty when not roasting alive underneath the harsh sun of the New Mexico desert. Really the moments of transition between night and day are poetic in their own right. A production ending with a curtain call each day, skipping over the rehearsal and casting call; Straight on to the show for the next morning. A repetitive show that doesn’t truly conclude.

Click, click, click

The cold lighter shakes slightly as you try to focus on just having a quiet smoke. Your thumb brushes over the smoothness of the lighter as you close it with a solid click. Trying to wipe away.. whatever the hell you’d encountered back there.

Inhaling spicy warm tobacco gives you comfort from the thoughts and guilt of your mind. A walk, your brain drifts, is what you need. Exhaling out a puff of gray smoke, admiring the sun slowly setting into the evening sky. The cirrus clouds clawing through the sky breaking the gradient of the evening, layering clouds upon itself as your shadows trails further behind you. The dirt and sand kicking up under your boots, heels dragging along creating a path in the quiet desert, straying away from base the nightlife slowly waking up to their circadian rhythm against the machine guns and soaking of the day’s bloody rain.

Your peace.. is disrupted from the following of loud curses in German, maybe a different dialect but you can’t quite tell if it’s the echo.. And distinct, American English echoing through the landscape. Which is to be expected, after all, she’s patient zero for an upgrade in immortality that’s what you could gather from the medical record from your first intelligence grab. A big game of capture the flag, really.

With a syringe gun and shotgun pointed out barreling towards you, you throw your hands up that’s normally reserved for a bitter defeat. Yes, your Commander is at the ready if their idiotic Soldier starts blasting at you for existing in blue; but if the fight is unpaid it’s not worth your time. Your Soldier may berate you for insubordination or some shit, and the worst side of the spectrum is that Medic might schedule a sudden examination of your internal organs. Getting sent through respawn after hours isn’t worth buying time for someone you loathe to be around. Besides, as long as your Red counterpart doesn’t screw up by doing something incredibly stupid, you’ve got free room and board. A class on both sides or none at all, right?

You roll your eyes as their incredibly loud Soldier, starts barking orders and pumps his shotgun, presumably to aim at your chest. Incessant arguing increasingly becomes irritating to the disagreement you’re not even a part of. At least their medic has enough of a brain to identify a peace offering when he sees one.

Their Medic dressed in red narrows his brows in suspicion. Granted from his irritation, he himself has slathers of blood covering his lab coat, the dust decorating him in an offset of brown glitter. Working on who, well with an enormously large figure hauling a large glintering silver barrel at his side just pacing further behind from the duo here? Well it doesn’t take a ton of context clues to figure it out.

“It’s too much of a lovely evening to be standing out here in the desert. Might want to check out the infirmary for sunburns. The desert is harsh on skin after all.”

Pulling the cigarette out of your mouth for a moment to flick the glowing embers to the dusty earth, the dry smoke blowing from your lips. Their medic, placing themselves a bit more forward probably to keep their soldier from shooting you into swiss cheese. The desert sands carrying your voice out further towards the enemies who shoot you up on a daily basis, a sigh escaping from your lungs,

“ Fellas! I didn’t sign up for unpaid overtime, you don’t exist to me after that final point is captured at 3pm.”

Your eyes connect to try and read their next move, syringe and shotguns still not fully lowered. Obvious distrust, needing more information that clearly isn’t a trap into an ambush. Or a spy posing as you from your own team. After all, you’d hope at least some of your teammates would hold you to have a similar weight of importance in their eyes if Red ever decides to pluck you in retaliation from this event.

You nudge your head slightly towards base, as a directional guide. A puff of smoke exhaling out from your mouth, blocking the view of two visibly stern faces of your sights.

“Mighty shame that our Engineer hasn’t been able to fix our defective emergency exit alarms near our second point, yet..” A specific piece of information needed to earn trust, I mean your Engineer has been caught up with a few different projects lately, neglecting any other maintenance that he can easily fix around this particular base. But it is on his list to fix, whether he actually has gotten to it is yet to be foreseen. It’s up to the Administrator now to decide if an evening brawl would be worthy to add to the workday. That would be a nightmare.

“I’m sure he’ll get to it once he gets a break.”

Clear cut eyes still question your authority, not the answer of a go ahead for a temporary truce. Really, it likely had the opposite effect with their fingers sliding towards the trigger, while your tired hands are slowly seceding to your own gun. If they fire first, well, it shows a reflection of their own character. That or they need more of an outright spelled out truth. Which really, the lead paint they must’ve licked, had done more damage than what New York State had initially found in their own population.

“Don’t bother to waste your bullets–”

A quiet snark leaving your throat, the smoke escaping your lips as the warm cigarette rests between your forefingers.

“–Sending me through respawn only gives him more time.”

Fallen ash singes against the cooling desert sand, drifting back into the earth between the gentle breeze. Their soldier, becoming increasingly antsy about the lack of gunpowder flying into the air, doesn't even bother to hide it on his face. To level the amount of testosterone of ego out on a 3 v 1, your eyes connect with the shade of crimson with a cross that trails up to their medic.

“She needs you more than what I’m worth in wasted time.”

Perhaps in a way, bargaining for a favor without outright stating it, being saved for a later date not explicitly labeled. You haven’t once brandished your gun for a show of power, nor have they shot you up into a million pieces. Granting mercy to bloodthirsty mercenaries. Aside from some on your team berating you for inaction, the Administrator has eyes everywhere in the Badlands, not just this particular map of dust. You’ve seen the hawking cameras blinking in dark corners documenting everyone’s moves. Could it land you under Miss Pauling’s quicklime? Possibly.. If it’s a repeated behavior, however, you don’t foresee that happening again. If their medic is anything like yours, it’s possible that your counterpart would be tethered to him on the field. Given her judgments and of what little Spy has shared in code, you seriously doubt that she’ll listen to even her own healer of the team.

You’re only here for money, not to worry about anyone else. It’s the entire point of why you’re here in the first place, not to brawl it out 24/7.

Are you putting too much faith in your enemies? Quite likely, but maybe you can guilt one of the three of them for a favor down the line if this fragile equilibrium, at some point, falls apart. It’s not a guarantee, but it’s a risk you’re willing to take. A life for a life won’t leverage its own weight in a world of daily rebirth by bloodshed. A debt for a debt holds a hierarchy in a lawless land.

Their medic, jaw clenched, must've struck a nerve somewhere but refuses to show it. Giving a silent eye to their Heavy for a silent reassurance of the next step. While their Soldier is barely keeping restraint to shoot something on behalf of Uncle Sam or for the honor of America. A brief moment of silence, before sharp eyes reacknowledge your peace bargain.

“Danke.”

A 2/3rd agreement to keep moving forward, while Soldier grumbling at sparing the life of an enemy. He may be trigger happy because you exist in blue, but at the least is willing to half recognize a peace offering with information.

The barrage of dust and sand kicks back up, as their plans of attack fade with the movement of tumbleweeds strolling alongside you under a waning moon. Hand resting in the comfort of your coat pockets. Your cigarette, a dim beacon of light against the growing darkness in the night sky. Stars peeking out against the handful of bright lights against wooden shacks against the field.

The logistics of morality in private combat is ever changing, and quite frankly gives you a headache to try and think about “doing the right thing” when following the money supports your family. Your heart only knows one certainty when it comes to such mental conflicts on the field.

You’re not a bad person.

____________

A few fun facts with the research I did for this fic:

New York city was the first city to outlaw further usage of lead paint in 1960 before New York state followed through banning usage of lead paint in the late 70s. Lead was effectively banned in 1986, however it didn’t apply to pipes that were already in the ground and walls already painted with lead, it only banned new lead pipes to be placed in for usage beyond. https://www.nyc.gov/site/doh/health/health-topics/lead-poisoning-information-for-building-owners.page

https://www.brookings.edu/blog/up-front/2021/05/13/what-would-it-cost-to-replace-all-the-nations-lead-water-pipes/

I had to take a few liberties with blue spesh and a bit of history too, so I figured that she might get enjoyment out of radio dramas since her inspiration of doing theater in university before dropping out had to come from somewhere. The 70s had a dry spell of radio dramas, since reruns of shows weren’t really commonplace and many live radio dramas were performed live on air in the 40s and 50s until recording media for reruns. Earplay is an actual radio drama that aired in 1972 until 1982 but got picked up by other networks at least until the 1990s.But for this fic its gonna be running a bit earlier than 1972. The Firesign Theatre actually did have some albums for their shows, before their second split.https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Firesign_Theatre#Albums

[helloalycia]

my patient’s neighbour [one] // wanda maximoff

summary: whilst caring for a new patient of yours, you definitely didn't expect to fall for her cute neighbour, Wanda Maximoff

warning/s: very minor mentions of injuries and death

author's note: okay so firstly, buckle in, folks, this is gonna be like 6 parts long lol. Also, I google translated all the Russian bits so i apologise if they are incorrect! okay, you may enjoy now :)

part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | masterlist | wattpad

"38... 38... 38..."

I scanned the doors to the many apartments in the hall, hoping to find the one that belonged to my newest patient – Anna Pivec. As a nurse, I was always given new patients to visit and tend to until they no longer needed it or chose not to have me around. I'd just been assigned a new patient, Anna, and was excited to meet her.

"38!" I said to myself, spotting the door at the end of the hallway. I knocked on before waiting patiently, hoping she wasn't sleeping or anything. It wasn't too early – 10AM – and she knew I was coming, so finger's crossed.

The door opened to reveal a short, old lady with grey hair and a cane in her hand. I smiled kindly, meeting her cloudy gaze.

"You must be the one my granddaughter is paying to look after me because she can't do it herself," the woman spoke before I could introduce myself. Stepping to the side, she motioned with her cane. "Come on in."

My smile dropped at her abruptness. "I, er, yeah, I guess that's me." As I walked in, I said, "My name is Y/N Y/L/N. The nurse from–"

"Yeah, I know where you're from," she cut me off, closing the door and heading further into her apartment. "They sent me a brochure, milaya."

I followed after her, surprised at how quick she was for an old lady with back and heart problems. She was leading me into the open plan living-room and kitchen.

"I'm sorry – milaya? What does that mean?" I asked politely, hoping I didn't come across as rude.

She waved her hand dismissively, mumbling something to herself in what I think was Russian. Her profile did say she was from Sokovia, so maybe that was it.

"Okay, erm, well, as I said," I changed the subject, figuring she wouldn't give me an answer, "I'm Y/N. I'll be here five times a week and basically be doing anything you need me to do. Of course, I only want you to be comfortable in your own home, so if you ever feel anything but, please let me know."

She hummed in acknowledgement before motioning for me to follow her. I set my bag on the kitchen counter before sitting on the couch as she did so on the recliner. She sighed with content as the pain on her back was eased from taking a seat.

"Tell me about yourself," she said gently.

I smiled with amusement. "That's usually what I ask my patients."

"Do forgive me, milaya," she said, and I made a mental note to bring a Russian-English dictionary with me tomorrow, "but you're a stranger in my home. I'd prefer to know about you before I let you take care of me."

I nodded, slightly impressed. Her profile didn't do her justice. Usually, the elderly I cared for were quick to allow me to do my thing, never really questioning who I was or what my intentions were. I was starting to get the impression that Anna was a strong, stubborn woman in a little old lady's body – definitely not one to mess around with.

"Okay, well, I'm a nurse," I began with the basics, and from there, went into a long ramble about my job, how I got into it, what it consisted of...

Anna was full of questions, taking the time to get to know me and I her. Once I had told her everything I could think to, she told me about her life. How she lived in Sokovia up until she was thirty-five years old and had to flee with her husband and daughter because of the war. She gushed about the both of them, a twinkle in her eye as she recalled their livelihoods like they were still alive. Her husband had unfortunately passed many years ago due to liver problems – "All that drinking, milaya! Us Sokovians are a force to be reckoned with!" – and her daughter had passed in a car accident not long after.

It was a tragic tale, but she didn't let it bring her down. In fact, she seemed grateful to have lived it and I couldn't help but smile as she shared it with me.

I noticed she would speak short phrases in Russian mid-conversation, without realising, which didn't make it easier for me to understand, but I couldn't bring it in myself to interrupt her to ask what they meant because she said it with such sincerity that I figured it reminded her of her home.

After our conversation, I made her lunch and gave her her medication before watching some TV with her and pretty much talking to her once again. She was quite an interesting woman, different to my usual patients, and I was enjoying our time together. After spending the day there, I wished her a good night before leaving.

When I returned the next morning, I let myself in with the key Anna gave me and called out a good morning.

"In here!" an unfamiliar female voice called out.

I furrowed my brows as I took off my jacket and headed into the living-area. Anna was sat in her recliner as usual, but she had a guest sat on her couch. A young woman, possibly my age, with long dark hair and a friendly smile on her lips was sat comfortably; she had a cup of tea in her hands and her legs pulled up on the couch like she lived there.

The stranger and Anna exchanged words in Russian briefly before the former stood up, about to introduce herself.

"Oh, are you her granddaughter?" I asked, putting two and two together. It was the only explanation I could think of for how comfortable she was and the fact that she was also Sokovian (I assumed, anyway).

The girl laughed, her green eyes sparkling as she shook her head. Putting out her hand, she said, "I'm Wanda Maximoff. Anna's neighbour."

Slightly embarrassed by my mistake, I smiled awkwardly and shook her hand. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have– I just thought because you were speaking Russian that–"

"It's fine, no harm no foul," she put me at ease quickly, before taking her seat again. "I've lived next door to Anna for about a year now. Sometimes I keep her company on my days off."

I set my bag on the floor before taking a seat on the couch, leaving a gap between Wanda and I.

"That's nice," I said with a smile before looking to Anna. "How are you feeling this morning, Mrs Pivec?"

She sighed, waving her hand dismissively, before saying something to Wanda in Russian who was listening intently. Nodding her head, Wanda looked to me with amusement.

"What did she say?" I asked, quirking a brow.

"She said she told you to stop calling her Mrs Pivec yesterday," Wanda translated, trying not to laugh.

"Just call me Anna, Y/N," Anna added with a nod. "And I'm fine. Just had breakfast with Wanda here."

"Breakfast," I repeated slowly. "How long ago was that? Just gotta make sure you get your meds."

"Shoot, am I doing your job?" Wanda asked, slightly panicked.

"No, no, you're not." I laughed at the way she scrunched her nose. "I mean, it would help if I could have breakfast with Miss– Anna, so I know when she has her medication. But it's all good."

"Are you sure? I can leave if I'm in the way," Wanda said with a frown.

"No need," I reassured her. "If Anna doesn't mind your presence, it's all good. I'm just here to look after her, clean up, make sure she eats, has her meds."

Wanda looked to Anna, who seemed unbothered by her presence.

"She can stay," Anna said with a shrug. "Makes it feel less like I'm a pet."

I opened my mouth to say something, possibly make her feel better, but I wasn't sure what to say.

"Don't mind her," Wanda reassured, giving Anna a knowing look before shooting me an easygoing smile. "She tends to speak her mind exactly as it is. No filter whatsoever. And very stubborn. You may have noticed."

I cracked a smile, feeling better knowing that it wasn't just me who noticed Anna's unique personality traits.

"Hey, that stubbornness and lack of filter is exactly how I beat my husband and his friends in every poker game back home," Anna said with a playful smirk.

Wanda and I chuckled, before the brunette leaned on the couch comfortably and looked to me.

"We finished breakfast, maybe, ten minutes ago? I made us eggs and toast," she answered my question from earlier.

I hummed before getting up with my bag and heading to the kitchen. Setting my bag on the counter, I grabbed my diary and also Anna's medication from its place on the kitchen counter.

"I'll give you your medicine now, Anna," I told her, already grabbing a glass of water for her.

"Thank you, milaya," she called back, and I spun around, immediately going to get my Russian-English dictionary from my bag. "Wait, I know what that is!" I flicked through the pages and scanned it eagerly. "Milaya... milaya... milaya! Okay, it means... sweetie."

"Sweetie," Wanda said at the same time, and I looked up to see her watching me from behind her cup of tea, trying not to laugh again.

"I guess another perk of your presence is being the translator," I said sheepishly, realising just how eager I was a second ago. "Anna likes to speak Russian a lot, which I'm fine with of course, but..." I waved the dictionary in the air.

"It's funny watching tvoye lichiko, milaya," Anna said with that same mischievous smirk on her face.

I looked down to my dictionary, struggling to pinpoint a single word in her sentence that I could search. It was overwhelming, the words going in one ear and out the other.

"She said it's funny watching your little face, sweetie," Wanda translated upon seeing my frozen state.

I relaxed my shoulders. "Thanks." Then I realised what she said. "Hey!"

Anna laughed as Wanda grinned, and I was suddenly glad she was here. I grabbed Anna's meds with a glass of water before giving them to her. After making sure she swallowed them properly, I put the glass to the side and took a seat on the couch again.

"So, you said you visited Anna on your days off?" I asked Wanda, intrigued by why a neighbour would be so interested in another. It wasn't very common in today's day and age.

"She's almost always here," Anna answered before Wanda could speak. I looked to her as she continued with a grateful smile. "Helps me with everything. Groceries, cleaning, my medication."

"So basically me but unpaid," I joked, and Anna laughed.

"Exactly," she agreed, and I looked to Wanda to see her blushing, eyes avoiding mine.

"That's really sweet," I said gently, earning her attention. "You're a really good neighbour, Wanda."

Wanda ran a hand through her hair. "It's nothing. If anything, I enjoy being here. Anna reminds me of Sokovia and my family and, well, home."

"Oh, so you're Sokovian, too?"

She nodded before smiling playfully. "Did the accent not give it away?"

I hid a smile. "I didn't want to assume. I mean, you could've been Czech. Slovakian. Basically anything else."

"Okay, I'll give you that," she gave in, tilting her head to the side, smile widening.

It was then that I learnt her smile was extremely contagious.

Same as yesterday, my plan was to stay the day with Anna, though this time Wanda also kept her company (and me, too). After lunch, I left the two of them to watch some TV as I excused myself to change Anna's bedsheets in her room, ready for bed tonight.

As I was doing so, I heard the door open and glanced over my shoulder to see Wanda entering the room. I gave her a smile before continuing to replace the pillowcase.

"Here, I can help," she offered, and didn't give me chance to decline as she grabbed the pillow on the other side of the bed and began to change its case.

"You sure? You know it's my job, right?" I teased, looking up at her over the bed between us.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm aware. Just thought I'd make it a bit easier for you."

I chuckled. "Well, I appreciate it... how is Anna?"

"Dozed off," Wanda quipped with an expectant nod. "Same time every day. Like clockwork."

"Huh." I thought back to yesterday and how she ended up taking a nap after lunch, too. "Noted. Thanks."

Wanda smiled before putting the pillowcase on the pillow and puffing it with her hands. I did the same, content with its appearance, before moving to the duvet. Wordlessly, Wanda grabbed one end and began to help me put it on, which I appreciated. The duvet was bigger than I was and definitely a two-person job.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" I spoke out of the blue as we were putting on the duvet cover.

"Go for it," she said encouragingly, glancing sideways.

"Of course, you don't have to answer, but I thought I'd ask since I'm going to be looking after Anna for a while," I gave a little disclaimer, before saying, "She makes a lot of snide remarks about her granddaughter. Do they not get along?"

Wanda sighed quietly. "Her granddaughter doesn't really visit her here. She rarely calls."

"Her daughter's kid?"

"The only one," Wanda confirmed. "She keeps her distance, ever since her mum – Anna's daughter – passed. She just pays for, well, you."

I frowned. "That's sad."

"Yeah," Wanda agreed, breathing out.

The two of us spread the duvet over the double bed before I looked to her with a small smile.

"At least she has you," I pointed out. "It's nice you give up your free time to spend it with her."

"Like I said, it's good for me, too," she reminded me, returning the smile.

"So what do you do when you're not here keeping her company?" I asked curiously, moving to Anna's bedside to clear it up a little.

Wanda hid her smile behind a look of confusion. "Do you not– don't you recognise me?"

I quirked a brow, pausing my actions. "Am I supposed to?"

She snickered, shaking her head, eyes falling to the bed with mild disbelief. "I mean, I guess not. I'm–" She chuckled, looking to my confused face. "I'm one of the Avengers."

I studied her, her words not quite settling in. But when they did, I realised I actually recognised her and she was one of the Avengers.

"Oh my God!" I blurted, the penny finally dropping. "The one with the weird red energy powers! I mean– not weird but– the magic!"

She stifled laughter, nodding her head. Just like her smile, her laughter was contagious, too.

"Yeah, that's me," she confirmed.

I made a weird motion with my free hand, like I'd seen her do on TV when saving the day. "Does Anna know about your y'know?"

Wanda crossed her arms, raising a brow and watching me with a humoured gaze. "Is that supposed to be my powers?"

I stopped making the motion and felt my neck heating up. "I– yeah."

Laughter spilled from her lips yet again, automatically making me smile. I didn't mind that I'd made a fool of myself all of a sudden.

"Anna knows, yes," Wanda said with a bright smile. "She actually recognised me straight away. Much quicker than you. And she's eighty."

Waving my hand to distract from my flushed cheeks, I said, "Pfft, she probably confused you with someone else and played along when you told her who you were."

"Yeah, I'm sure that was it, ty milyy maneken," she retorted with her piercing gaze.

"No fair, my dictionary is in the other room," I said with a pout, and she only laughed even more.

"Guess you'll never know," she teased with a smirk, making me roll my eyes to distract from the way it made me feel when she stared at me like that.

It was much later on when I learnt that she had called me 'a cute dummy'. And that was the beautiful start to Wanda and I's introduction into each other's lives.

—

From then onwards, about eighty percent of the time I would go to care for Anna, Wanda was present, too and I didn't mind one bit. Not only did she keep Anna company, but she made my job a lot easier whilst keeping me company as well.

I was beginning to look forward to seeing her whenever I would open the door. Whether she was cleaning something up, playing board games with Anna or simply having a tidy up around the apartment, she'd always stop what she was doing and help me with whatever was in my hands as she greeted me at the door. It was adorable. She was adorable.

The few times she wasn't present because of work only made me miss her, the apartment feeling emptier than usual. Even Anna agreed, the two of us making up for the lack of the Sokovian girl's presence by distracting ourselves with other activities.

I was convinced Anna was warming up to me as she freely let me care for her without resistance. Obviously, she wouldn't be Anna if she didn't throw funny remarks my way or speak to me in Russian, knowing I didn't understand her, but it was tolerable. And I was liking her, too; she was easily becoming one of the best patients I cared for. There was just so much personality to her that I couldn't help but smile whenever I spoke to her.

One time, I was helping Anna out at her place when Wanda wasn't present. I was leading her into her bed when I decided now was a better time than ever to ask her about her birthday on Sunday, which I knew was then because of her file.

"So, I'll be seeing you in two days next," I told her as I pulled the duvet over her. "And a little birdie told me it's your birthday then. Eighty-one, Anna! That's amazing!"

She smiled but seemed embarrassed that I knew.

"Tell me what you want and I can make it happen," I said promisingly, smiling down at her.

She waved her hand. "I don't want anything, milaya (sweetie). Your presence is enough."

I chuckled. "As sweet as that is, I know everybody wants something for their birthday. Now please, Anna. What can I do to make the day a bit more special?"

She pondered my question momentarily and I waited for her to speak, hoping it was something doable.

"I would love to have a traditional Sokovian meal," she said reluctantly. "It's been a long time."

I breathed out quietly, patting her hand gently. "I can do that, Anna. Don't you worry."

She smiled genuinely, before shooing me away. "Okay, enough sappiness, ty mozhesh' uyti seychas (you can leave now)."

I laughed, standing up and dusting my pants off. I only knew what that phrase meant because she said it almost every time before my shift ended and I left for the day. I knew she didn't mean it as harshly as it sounded.

"I'm going, I'm going," I said, already heading to the door. "I'll see you Sunday, birthday girl."

She groaned quietly, making me grin, before I double checked everything was okay in the living-area and grabbed my stuff to leave.

As easy of a request that it was, I knew absolutely nothing about cooking a traditional Sokovian meal. But I knew of one person who did and instantly headed to Wanda's apartment next door to see if she was home.

With a quick knock, I waited patiently. I wasn't sure if she was even home since she hadn't visited Anna today and she usually did so if she was. When I was beginning to think she wasn't, I told myself I could Google a recipe and put something together, but then the door opened and revealed a tired-looking Wanda.

"Y/N," she said with surprise, but a friendly smile was on her lips nonetheless.

"Hey, I'm so sorry to disturb you this late, but I wanted to ask– wait, what happened to your face?" I stopped speaking and lost my own smile when I noticed the faint scratches and bruises dusting her skin.

"Oh, it's nothing–" she started, raising her hand, fingers wavering over her head, but I cut her off.

"Shit, Wanda, what happened?" I reached out, taking her hand in mine and studying the cast that was around her wrist. Concerned frown on my lips, I glanced up at her. "Are you okay?"

"It's fine, Y/N," she tried to reassure, but I couldn't help it as my worry got the better of me and I studied the cuts on her cheek. "I just came back from a mission. Minor injuries. Honestly."

I let go of her hand, realising I was still holding it, and nodded slightly. "Right..." Realising she must have been exhausted, I awkwardly stepped back and shook my head with realisation. "Sorry, I should go. I didn't mean to bot–"

"You were saying something," she interrupted, nodding encouragingly. "You wanted to ask me something. What is it?"

I paused, nodding. Admittedly, I was still worried about the bruises on her forehead. I knew she was an Avenger and this was probably the norm for her, but to me, it looked like she'd just got mugged. And the irregularity of that worried me.

"Yeah, I was saying," I finally found my words, trying to ignore the way her tired eyes peered at me hopefully. "It's Anna's birthday on Sunday and she wants to have a traditional Sokovian meal to celebrate. The only problem is, I don't know what that is." Wanda cracked a smile as I continued. "Do you, maybe, have a recipe I could use?"

"Of course," she said before motioning for me to follow her. "Come on in."

I followed after her, closing the door behind me, and stopped at the kitchen counter patiently. As she searched for a notebook in her drawer, I subtly glanced around, taking in the inside of Wanda's apartment. I'd never actually been in it before, but the minimal décor was very her. She didn't have many knickknacks and everything on display served a purpose.

"There's some recipes in here," she said, grabbing my attention. She slid the notebook across the counter and leaned forward with a smile. "Take your pick."

I flicked through it briefly, smiling at the notebook filled with recipes, all in Wanda's neat, cursive handwriting.

"Thank you," I said gratefully, looking up and catching her staring.

She perked up, clearing her throat as she nodded in response before looking the other way. Cute.

"Are you working on Sunday?" I asked with a raised brow, before rolling my eyes playfully. "What am I saying? Of course you're not. Not with that wrist."

She chuckled, still avoiding my eyes. "I'm not."

"Well, why don't you come over for her birthday? You can help me cook her a meal. Or rather, I can help you cook it since I'll probably screw it up."

Finally meeting my eyes, she smiled with amusement. "Are you sure?"

I gave her a knowing look, ignoring the butterflies swirling in my stomach as she held my gaze with her intense dark eyes. "Yes, I'm sure. Anna will love to celebrate with you. And..." I pursed my lips, taking a leap of faith and adding, "and I'd love it, too."

Wanda let out a quiet laugh. "You would, would you?"

I straightened up, smile widening. "Yeah, I would."

She tilted her head, studying me with a curious smile. "Well then, I clearly can't say no."

Something stirred in my chest the longer she watched me and I oddly liked it. It was obvious that Wanda was a beautiful girl with a heart of gold, but I guess I hadn't really acknowledged that I may have had feelings for her until now. And I didn't mind one bit.

"Great," I finally found my words, nodding slightly. "I'll see you Sunday."

She mirrored my expression, saying, "See you Sunday," and I knew I couldn't wait until then.

[viking-raider]

Southern Generation - Part VI

Summary: Sy officially moves in with Lily and they go on a road trip to make amends.

Pairing: Austin Syverson/OFC (Lily)

Word Count: 11,965

Warning: PG-13 - Language, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Oral - F Receiving, Drama, Pregnancy Cravings

Inspiration: Syverson is OP

Author's Note: Thanks to the wonderful @wondersofdreaming

Author's Note 2: Make sure to follow and turn on the notifications for my Tag List blog @viking-raider-taglist to stay up to date on this and all my other stories!

“That's the last of them.” Sy smiled, setting the last box of his stuff down.

With Lily pregnant and them making their relationship official, Sy moved all of his stuff from his Austin apartment into the farmhouse with Lily.

“Well, officially.” Lily replied, resting her hands on her hips and looking up at him. “Welcome home.” She smiled, giddy and proud.

“Thanks, Darling.” He grinned back, cupping her face and kissed her.

Lily smiled, as she woke up from her nap, feeling the warm and heavy weight of Sy's body in bed with her, his head in its customary place, on her chest. She usually woke up from her naps with Sy, whether or not he was with her, when she fell asleep or not. Sighing and moaning softly, she lifted her hand to twist the short, curling ends of his hair between her fingertips.

“Hm.” Sy hummed softly, rubbing his scruffy face against her chest and hugging his arms tighter around her middle, thumb stroking her tummy.

“I'm surprised at you.” Lily whispered, still playing with his hair.

“Why?” Sy moaned back, turning his head to look up at her.

“When I first met you, I half wondered what your hair would look like if you let it grow out.” She explained, running her fingers through it.

“Oh?” He chuckled, smirking at her.

“Yeah.” She blushed at him. “But, I just didn't expect the Bear, Austin Syverson, would have curls.” She grinned at him, twisting the ends of his hair between her fingers, she loved his developing curls.

“My hair hasn't been this long in ten years.” Sy laughed, blushing and biting his lip. “I've been thinking about cutting it again.”

“I will end you, Wyatt.” Lily threatened, touching the tip of her finger to his nose.

“Oh, busting out the middle name and everything.” He smirked, taking a playful snap at the tip of her finger. “Lily?” He whispered, biting the inside of his lip as he stared into her eyes.

“What?” She replied, tilting her head at him.

“Have you thought about going back?” Sy murmured, brow creasing. “Back to Middleburg, to see your grandparents. Jak isn't a threat anymore. I'm sure they would love to see you and I'd bet my life, you want to see them again. Especially now, with the baby on the way.”

Lily pressed her lips together, resting her hands on Sy's shoulders. “It would be nice to see them again.” She answered, after a long pause.

“But?” He pressed, sensing it coming next.

“What if they don't want to see me?” She asked, searching his eyes for comfort, and found it. “What if they don't want me in their life anymore?”

Sy took a deep breath, sitting up as he did, and brought Lily up with him. “Then, that's their loss.” He told her, folding her up in his arms and pressing his lips to her forehead. “If they don't want you in their life, then they are missing out on knowing one of the most amazing gals, who can light up a room, simply by walking into it.”

“You're just buttering me up, Austin.” Lily mumbled into his neck.

“Woman, have I ever lied to you?” Sy grinned into her hair.

“No.” She chuckled, blushing shyly.

“I don't intend to now, Angel.” He whispered, kissing her temple. “But, you won't know their reaction, unless you go and see them.” He added, softer.

“I know.” She whispered back, leaning against his chest. “You're right. I owe it to them and myself.”

“Whatever choice you make, I'll support you, every step of the way.” Sy told her, gently tipping her head back and tenderly kissed her.

“I think I want to go see them.” Lily said, later that night, while she and Sy sat at the dinner table.

Sy looked up from his plate of spaghetti and garlic bread, slowly lowering his fork. “All right.” He nodded, straightening his back and giving her his full attention. “When do you wanna go?”

“The sooner, the better, I think.” She mumbled, shifting in her seat, her own dinner mostly untouched.

Sy nodded his head again, quietly regarding Lily from across the table. He could see the worried and fearful anxiety on her face, still mulling over every worst case scenario about seeing her grandparents again, he could almost see every one of them tick by her eyes. Afraid that her grandparents would disown her, the moment they laid eyes on her. Blaming her for what transpired with Jak. Afraid of what their reaction would be, when she showed up at their door, after five years of silence, pregnant with the baby of man they had never heard of or met before, especially since they were incredibly religious.

He reached across the table, just in time to catch the tear that escaped and started to slip down her cheek, then rested his hand over hers. “No matter what happens, Lily. You still have me.” He told her, lovingly.

“You still have us.”

Lily grasped Sy's hand and tried to smile at him and not cry at the same time, which was hard with the way her hormones were starting to really get out of control. “I know.” She choked back.

“Let me finish painting the rest of the house and go to your twelve week baby appointment on Friday, then we'll pack a bag and ourselves into the car and drive out there.” He told her, making a game plan, so her frazzled and tired mind could relax.

“It's only a twenty-ish hour drive.”

“I think, that's a good idea.” Lily nodded, chewing on her lip, taking deep breaths.

Sy smiled and squeezed her hand. “Good.” He chuckled and let her hand go, before picking his fork back up and dug into his spaghetti.

Sy double checked his large, Army issued duffel bag, making sure he and Lily had enough clothing, he had her zofran, nausea medicine, and prenatal vitamin, along with everything else he, Lily and Aika would need for the almost nineteen hour drive from Celina to Middleburg, Virginia, having already put her pregnancy pillow in the car, before tugging the bag closed, slung it over his shoulder and went downstairs.

“Billie promised to keep an eye on the place and pick up the mail for us.” Lily said, meeting him in the entryway hall.

“Great.” He smiled. “Well, I got all our stuff packed.” He said, jostling the duffel bag.

“I already packed some snacks in the truck too.”

“Then, we're all set!”

“No, I have to pee, one more time.” Lily giggled, and rushed into the half bath.

Sy laughed, shaking his head and took the duffel bag out to the truck, dropping it in the back seat with Aika. “All set?” He asked as Lily came out of the house.

“I am now!” She nodded, crossing the yard to the truck and got into the passenger seat.

“Did you lock up?” He asked, getting in with her.

“Yep.”

“You good, Aika?” Sy asked, looking to the German Shepherd, who let out a loud bark. “All right, let's get this road trip underway!” He pulled up Google Maps on his phone and entered the address to Lily's grandparents' place, then set the device on its dock and started the truck.

Sy and Lily laughed, as they sang along to a song that came on Sy's playlist that they both liked, Enemies by Shinedown. But, Sy turned the song down, when Lily suddenly stopped singing and quickly identified the look she got just before she threw up. Quickly popping open the center console, Sy reached inside of it and pulled out a circular, blue and white object and opened it, holding it out to her. Lily took it from him, without question and threw up in it, once or twice.

“Where did you get this?” She asked, looking at it, realizing it was a hospital-grade nausea bag. “Did you rob a hospital?” She chuckled, looking over at him.

“No.” He laughed back at her. “I bought them off Amazon. I wasn't sure if you got car sick on long rides or not. But, I was sure the baby would make you nauseous, at least, once on the drive. So, I wanted to be prepared and make you as comfortable as possible in the process.”

Lily tied the used bag closed, then opened the center console and found another twenty-plus of the blue emesis bags inside. She smiled up at him, shaking her head in disbelief of his utter and complete thoughtful and preparedness.

“You never cease to amaze me, Austin.” She said, sitting back up. “You see how amazing your Daddy is.” Lily grinned, looking at her belly, and making Sy blush.

“Well, I gotta take care of ya, don't I?” He smirked, resting his hand on her thigh.

“Yeah, I suppose.” She sighed, smirking back at him.

“There's some Listerine strips in the center console, by the way.” Sy added, after a few quiet moments.

“I'm sorry, am I offending you?” Lily giggled, opening the console again and fished around for them, before finding the small blue case.

“No, no.” He grinned, chuckling. “Just figured you'd want to get the taste out of your mouth.” He explained, finally getting them on the interstate highway.

“Did you pack my nausea meds?” Lily asked, feeling another wave wash over her.

“Yeah. It's in our bag.” Sy nodded, brow creasing, as he tried to figure out what stupid shenanigans the car in front of them was up too.

Lily twisted in her seat and pulled the worn green bag between the front seats, tugging it open and riffled through it, until she found the little prescription bottle of tiny, white oval tablets, then turned back around. She removed one of the pills and cracked open one of the two bottles of Voss water in the cup holders and downed the pill.

“Why don't you rest?” Sy suggested, reaching behind her seat for her pregnancy pillow. “It's just going to be annoying highway stuff for a while.” He said, giving her the pillow.

“I don't want you to get lonely.” Lily protested, maneuvering and situating the U-shaped pillow into a comfortable position.

Sy smiled over at her. “I'll be fine, Angel.” He assured her. “If I get lonely, I'll talk to Aika and we'll play the quiet game.” He chuckled, looking at the dog from the rear view mirror. “I'll wake you up around one, and we'll find some little place to have lunch.”

“If you're sure.” Lily yawned, she was usually already in the middle of a nap by now.

“Positive, Sweetness.” He nodded, turning the heat on a bit to make sure she was kept warm.

Lily contorted her body in her seat, drawing up her legs and propping her head and the curve of her pillow against the window, wrapping her arms around it and hugging it against her body, before dozing off to sleep. Sy reached out and rested his hand on her leg, gently massaging it as he kept his eyes on the road, just listening to the hum of the tires on the worn asphalt of Interstate Forty fill the silent cabin of the truck; Aika curled up on the backseat. The quiet boredom of the road allowed the devil to whisper into Sy's ear.

He wasn't sure what to do, if Lily's grandparents, the people that raised her, rejected her, and not only her, but their great grand-baby, his child. He knew he had to be strong for Lily, it would crush her, if they wanted nothing to do with her and the baby, but Sy wasn't so sure he would be able to keep himself under control. He had a feeling he would end up giving the couple a very big piece of his mind, before bringing Lily back home to Celina.

“It'll be fine.” He said aloud, glancing over at Lily. “It'll be all right.” He assured her sleeping form, leaning over just enough to lay his hand on her belly.

Sy found a turn off into Memphis just before one in the afternoon, parking at a small riverfront park in downtown Memphis, giving Lily a quiet place to wake up and all three of them a place to stretch their legs, and Aika a place to pee.

“Hey.” Sy called, softly, shutting off the car and leaning across the console. “Lily. Wake up, baby.” He cooed at her, brushing his knuckles against her cheek and tucking her hair behind her ear, kissing the corner of her mouth. “Hey, sweet pea.” He grinned, watching her eyes slowly flutter open, blinking at the bright sunlight glittering off the murky river water.

“Where are we?” She asked in a sleepy voice, rubbing her cheek against the microfiber cover of her pillow.

“The home of the King, Memphis Tennessee.” Sy chuckled, teasingly, and kissed her again. “So, love me tender.”

“I'm all shook up.” Lily chuckled, unfolding herself and sitting up in her seat.

“Well, it's now or never, baby doll.” Sy roared, his head going back.

“Oh, don't be cruel.”

“But, I can't help fallin' in love.” He chimed back.

“What now, my love?” Lily asked, smirking at him.

“I knew there was a reason I loved you.” Sy commented, finding more and more of them every day. “But, I thought we'd get some fresh air and stretch our legs, I'm sure Aika has to pee. Then, we'll find some lunch.”

“I like that idea.” Lily nodded, pushing her pillow into the back seat, then climbed out of the truck, taking the used nausea bag with her to throw away, while Sy put Aika on her leash.

Sy took Lily by the hand and strolled down the little sidewalk along the riverside, watching the various types of boats go by them on the water. The weather was nice and warm with pleasant enough humidity, a few clouds floating in the baby blue sky.

“Are you craving anything specific?” Sy asked as they patiently waited for Aika to do her business in the grass beside them.

“Hmm.” Lily hummed, pressing her lips together and considering if there was something specific she wanted for lunch; she hadn't had any definitive cravings yet, other than the three days she really needed to eat Mac and Cheese.

But, something specific did strike Lily.

“A pretzel.” She purred, already licking her lips at the thought of the salty baked good.

Sy chuckled at her, amused at the expression on her face, eyes closed and dreamy. “All right. I'll get you a pretzel then.”

It was like a ding went off in Lily's soul. “I want a lot of Pretzels.” She said, eyes popping open and looked up Sy, almost manic and desperate.

“Okay.” He replied, brows raised and blinking at her. “I'll get you a pretzel for lunch, then some to munch on.”

“Yeah.” Lily nodded, staring down at their feet, eyes wide. “Pretzels are good.”

“That they are.” Sy agreed, snickering, unable to keep back his amusement.

Lily's eyes snapped up at him, watching him laugh at her, his eyes practically teasing and making fun of her. “Shut up.” She snapped, but started to laugh back at him. “I can't help it.”

“I know you can't.” He nodded, trying to stop, but it only made him laugh harder. “That's what makes it even better.”

“I hate you.” Lily giggled, playful punching him in the arm. “Now, I want my pretzel, Captain.”

“Yes, Major!” Sy replied, saluting her, then quickly cleaned up after Aika and took them back to the truck. “I just need to find a place to get you one.” He sighed, taking his phone off its dock and googled where to get a pretzel in Memphis, Tennessee.

“Okay, there's an Auntie Anne's not that far from us that does pretzels.” He said, saving the directions and setting them in that direction.

Leaving Aika in the car, Lily and Sy went into the shopping center the Auntie Anne's was in, navigating the crowd and line to the counter. Lily chewed on her lip for a moment, torn between getting a regular pretzel or the pretzel bites, before finally deciding on the bites with the nacho cheese dip. With her food, they navigated their way around again and Sy got himself something from the Wendy's the center had as well, before going back out to the truck to eat there; Lily stealing a couple of Sy's french fries and sharing a couple of her pretzel bites.

Once their lunch was finished and they tossed their empty containers away, Sy made a quick run into the Mega Wal-Mart across the street from the shopping center to buy a big bag of mini pretzels and a case of Voss water for Lily, knowing she was going to get very thirsting from devouring them.

“Thank you.” Lily said, when Sy gave her the bag as he got in the car, her eyes glued on the bag.

“Just don't turn into one.” He teased her, chuckling. “All right, let's get back on the road.”

“I don't want you driving all night, Austin.” Lily mumbled around a mouthful of pretzel.

“I know and I won't.” He replied, reaching a hand into the bag. “I'll go until sun down, then we'll find a place to sleep for the night.” He said, then crammed the four or five pretzels into his mouth.

“Good.” Lily smiled, passing back a pretzel to Aika, who quickly devoured it and came back for more.

Reaching Blacksburg, Virginia just after dark, Sy found a drive-thru to order them dinner and a motel for the night, parking out front of the motel's office. Sighing, he rested back in the driver's seat, scrubbing his palms over his tired face and lulled his head to the side to look over at Lily, who had fallen asleep again, twisted around her pillow and her half eaten bag of pretzels clutched to her chest. They were three hours away from her grandparents' orchard, three hours from finding out whether or not they would be in Lily and the baby's life.

“Watch her, girl.” Sy said to Aika, before slipping out of the truck, locking the doors for extra measure, and going inside the office to get a room.

Once he had the room, Sy got back into the truck and parked as close to the room as he could, before going around and opening Lily's door, careful not to let her slip out. Then, gently took the pretzel bag from her and set it aside, unbuckled her seat belt and tried to figure out for a moment how to untangle the mess of limbs and pregnancy pillow, but quickly gave up with an amused chuckle. He just picked up both her and the pillow to carry her into their room and laid her down on the bed, tugging the turned down blankets over her, then went out to get their bag, dinner and Aika.

“Hey, Angel.” Sy smiled, closing the room door with his foot as Lily sat up, rubbing at her face and pushing her hair out of her face. “I got us some food.” He said, holding up the bag.

“You hungry?”

Lily nodded, still sleepy. “Where are we now?” She asked, sitting cross legged on the bed, beside Sy as they ate their food.

“Blacksburg.” He replied, shoving fries in his mouth. “About three hours away from your grandparents' place.”

Lily bit her lip and nodded her head, staring at the half eaten, plain chicken sandwich in her hand, suddenly losing her appetite and set it down. “I'm gonna take a shower, I'm sore.” She mumbled, getting off the bed and headed into the tiny bathroom.

Turning on the light and closing the door, Lily let out a heavy breath and tugged her tank top off over her head, followed by her elephant patterned leggings and underwear, before turning towards the shower, the walls were dingy and discolored, but clean. Spinning the hot and cold taps, then stepping under the shoddy shower-head, she leaned her forehead against the cracked acrylic wall, letting the pleasantly warm water cascade down her back, like a waterfall, with a soft moan. She was starting to have second thoughts about going to see her grandparents. She wondered how upset or disappointed Sy would be, if she told him she wanted to go back home to Celina in the morning, instead of going the three hours to Middleburg to see them.

She wondered how disappointed in herself she would be later on, if she chickened out this close to their destination.

The bathroom door opened and closed, followed by the rustle of clothing, before Sy stepped into the shower behind Lily, resting one hand on her hip and brought the other one around to cup the gentle slope of Lily's belly, pressing his lips to the base of her neck. Gulping down a thicket of emotions in her throat, Lily turned in Sy's arms and pressed herself against his chest, nuzzling her face into his neck. He smiled against her wet hair, gently kneading her hips and lower back, knowing after so many hours in the car and the way she contorted her body to sleep, she must have been in pain.

“Let me take care of you.” He whispered, kissing her forehead.

Sy picked up the little bottle of travel sized, hotel shampoo, broke the seal on it and poured it into his broad palm, then gently massaged it into her hair, stealthily wiping away a line of soap that dripped down her forehead and almost in her eye. Lily closed her eyes, softly moaning at the gentle and pleasurable pressure of Sy's strong and blunt fingers working the scentless shampoo into her scalp, his thumbs moving out to methodically rub her temples, easing the edge off of the tension migraine she had all day. Sy tipped her head back into the spray of the shower, combing his fingers through her wet and soapy strands to rinse out the shampoo. With her hair washed, he found a small wash cloth and bar of soap, and started to wash her body, beginning with her shoulders and applying a little bit of pressure as he did to massage the cramped muscles there.

“God, that feels so good.” Lily sighed, melting under his tender affection, a smile twitching on her face as he rubbed the cloth over the ticklish spots of her sides.

Sy smiled, kissing the bridge of her nose. “Anything for you, Angel.” He cooed back, paying special attention to the beautifully growing bulge of her belly.

“Thank you.” She whispered, relaxed and sleepy, after they got out of the shower, letting Sy dry her off and secure the towel around her body.

“You're welcome, Sweetheart.” He replied, kissing her cheek.

Lily went back into the room and opened their duffel bag, just pulling out the first article of clothing that her hand came in contact with, which was Sy's worn, Jack Daniels, Tennessee Whiskey t-shirt and let the towel slip off her and pulled on his shirt. Sy stood in the bathroom doorway, still naked and dripping from the shower and smiled at her, loving how the black garment hung on her like a dress, her shoulder length hair dripping and making it wet as she brushed it.

He had never seen anyone so beautiful in his life.

Moving over to the full sized bed, Sy situated her pregnancy pillow, then turned towards Lily. “Lay down, Angel.” He cooed at her.

Frowning at him for a moment, but seeing the look in his blue eyes, Lily chuckled and laid down, situating herself with her head and neck propped up on the belly of the pillow and her body comfortably cradled in the middle of it. Sy picked up her discarded towel and used it to dry off some, before turning off the room lights, then crawled into bed with her. Moving between Lily's legs and gently bending up her knees and pushing them apart, Lily's startled gasp filled the dark room as Sy's warm breath wafted over her exposed folds, just before his wide tongue took one long and leisurely lick.

“Jesus H. Christ!” She cried out, gripping the arms of her pillow.

“Just me, Angel.” Sy chuckled, hooking his arms around her legs, so they rested on his shoulders, and pressed his palms down on top of her thighs, to keep her still, before dipping his head back down and pressing an open kiss to her clit, flicking the tip of his tongue against it, melting Lily into a sweet and needy whimper.

Sy licked and suckled at her delicate pussy, slipping his tongue between her folds to tease her entrance and get a deeper taste of her, lewd noises filled the room as neither of them hid the pleasure they were in and having. Lily rocked against his mouth, her hands pressed to the back of Sy's head to hold him in place, eyes rolled and fluttered, her anxiety of not wanting to go to her grandparents' in the morning completely forgotten in the heady peak of her orgasm.

“I love your mouth.” Lily sighed, out of breath, exhausted and pleasantly numb.

Sy roared with laughter, laying down beside her. “Good to know.” He grinned, pulling the blankets over them and draping his arm over her. “Good night, Angel.” He whispered, kissing her cheek.

“Night, Bear.” She mumbled back, starting to drift off.

Sy stayed awake for a little while, his hand slipping up inside the shirt she was wearing to gently caress her belly and stared at the back of her head. “God,” He whispered, careful not to wake or disturb her. “I don't ask much of you. But, for whatever my word is worth, please don't let these people hurt my girl. She needs and wants them in her life, so does our little one.” He said, lifting his hand to gently stroke her damp hair.

“Let this meeting tomorrow go well, for all of us.” He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and hugging Lily back against him.

Lily took a deep breath and held it, as Sy turned the truck off the main road and onto the dirt road leading onto the Warren Orchard farm, seeing the tall apple tree shaped sign with Warren Apples carved elegantly in its trunk. It wasn't long before they came to the closed security gate, shutting them off from the rest of the farm. Sy rolled the truck to a stop and looked over to Lily, lifting a brow at her, waiting for her to tell him what they should do next, when a voice came to life next to him.

“Welcome to Warren Apple Orchards, what can I do for you?” A deep Southern drawl asked from a mounted intercom box outside the driver's side window.

Sy rolled down his window and leaned closer to the box, spotting the security camera mounted above the one side of the gate. “Yeah, we're here looking for the owners of the place.” He replied, glancing over at Lily again.

“Mr. and Mrs. Warren aren't taking visitors just now.”

Lily huffed through her nose and leaned over the center console and Sy. “Tell them, Liliana wants to see them, Judd.” She called out, biting and pressing her lips together.

There was a long pause with a bubble of tension, before an electric buzz filled the humid air around them and the metal gate rolled out of their way. Lily sat back in her seat and Sy gave her a concerned look, before driving though.

“You know him?”

“He's worked here as long as I can remember.” Lily replied, staring out her window to the immaculate lawn and row of trees beyond that. “Just keep following the road, you'll find the house at the end of it.” She added, picking at the hem of the shorts she was wearing.

True enough, a few minutes later, a massive colonial, plantation house appeared behind ancient weeping willows. Made mostly of white stone with two stories of wrap around porches and ornate black railings, tall marble columns, from the foundation to the roof; what looked like five chimneys, three turrets and an apple tree weathervane. The driveway looped around the front of the house, leading up the stairs onto the porch was double french, front doors.

Sy was in complete awe of it as he pulled around to the front of the driveway. “This place is amazing.”

“Yeah.” Lily gulped, biting her lip and stared up at the house. “Oh dear god.” She whimpered, shrinking her seat, trying to hide.

“What?” Sy frowned, then noticed a whited haired man step out of the house, wearing a pair of light brown khaki pants and a black pull over sweater with the Warren Orchard's logo on it, an apple with an arrow threw it, the front of the arrow's shaft bent in the shape of a W.

“I'm guess, that's--”

“My grandfather.” Lily nodded, peeking over the edge of the door to look up at him. “Yep.” She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut and pressed her forehead to the window.

“Well, you can't hide forever, Angel.” Sy told her, tilting his head at her. “He knows we're here and this is more than likely us, sitting here.”

“I know.” Lily huffed, chewing her lip. “I know.”

“You can do this, babe.” He encouraged her. “I'm right here, Angel.”

Lily looked over at him, looking at him like a lost puppy, before taking a deep breath and fortifying herself. “You're right.” She nodded, leaning over and kissed him.

Taking another deep breath, Lily opened her door and stepped out of the truck, gulping as she looked up the steps to her grandfather. Her heart felt like a war drum in her chest, she was excited to see him again, he didn't seem any different from the last time he had seen him, at least, not from the distance they were at.

But, she was also afraid of what was about to happen next.

“Paw-Paw.” She called out to him, softly, her voice shaky.

“Liliana.” He replied, lifting a snowy brow at her, his honey-brown eyes scrutinizing her.

“I've missed you.” Lily blurted out, sniffling, tears burning her eyes. “I'm sorry I disappeared. I'm sorry I just ran away and I didn't tell either of you where I was going or why. That I stayed away for so long without a word.”

“But, I thought about you all the time.”

He stared hard at her, crossing his arms over his chest. “You scared the daylights out of your grandmother and I, Liliana. We tried looking for you everywhere, but you just vanished into thin air, like you never existed.” He told her, his anger slowly showing on his face.

“We thought you were dead.”

Lily bowed her head, ashamed for what she had put her grandparents through. “I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention, Paw-Paw.” She choked, looking back up at him, breathing hard.

“Then, what was your intention, Liliana?” He barked at her, his eyes glowing with rage. “Who are you?” He hissed, as Sy came around the front of the truck to wrap an arm around Lily's waist, to comfort her.

Sy looked up at him for a moment, his eyes hard at the man. “Austin Syverson.” He replied, hugging Lily against his side and rubbing her back.

“Your relation to my granddaughter is what?”

“I'm her boyfriend.” He replied, narrowing his eyes at the other man. “Look, she's come here, because she misses you both, very much, and has regretted the way she left. But, she had to leave, she had a very valid reason in doing so. In reality, she's an adult, more than capable of making her own choices and doesn't have to answer to anyone as to why she's made them.” He told Lily's grandfather.

“That includes you.”

“But, she's gained the strength to come here to try and make amends with you both, for more than one reason. You can either accept that or you can not. What happens now, is up to you.”

“Davy, who is it?”

A voice called from the double doors behind Lily's grandfather, before it opened to a thin, elderly woman with a short, curly pixie cut, who struggled to wheel herself out of the house and onto the porch. Her dim and pale blue eyes almost instantly found Lily at the bottom of the porch stairs, her hands flew to the front of her flower pattern dress, mouth dropping open.

“Liliana!” She exclaimed, reaching out a hand to her husband.

“Mee-maw.” Lily sniffled back, smiling at her grandmother through her tears.

“Thank the Lord, you're all right, my sweet child.” She cried, pressing a hand to her mouth.

“I am.” Lily nodded, wiping at her eyes. “And, I wanna be part of your lives again. I want to make amends for what I did by running away and disappearing. I'm sorry, I hurt you and Paw-Paw.”

Lily's grandmother looked up at her husband, who was still glaring at Lily and Sy, pressed her lips together, then looked back at them. “Come inside.” She said, letting his hand go and turned her wheelchair around and headed back towards the door.

“Davy.” She called over her shoulder.

Sighing, he turned and pulled the door open for her, eyeing Lily and Sy as they mounted the porch stairs, then followed his wife inside the house, before doing the same. She rolled down the hallway and turned into the private study, motioning to the long leather couch and parked herself in front of it.

“Hello.” She said, looking at Sy as he sat down beside Lily on the couch.

“Ma'am.” He replied, politely nodding his head to her.

“Who might you be?”

“Austin Syverson, Ma'am.” Sy answered with a sweet smile. “I'm your granddaughter's boyfriend.”

“Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Syverson.” She replied, regarding him. “I'm Violet Warren, and this is my husband, Davis.” She said, motioning to him as he took a seat in a chair to Lily and Sy's left.

“Sir.” Sy said, nodding his head stiffly to him.

“You're looking well, Liliana.” Violet commented, turning her attention to her granddaughter.

“Thank you.” Lily whispered, licking her lips. “I just go by Lily now.”

Violet nodded her head. “Very well.” She acknowledged. “Where've you been, Lily?”

Lily drew a deep breath through her nose and slowly let it back out. “It's a long story.” She whimpered, gripping Sy's hand for support, chewing the inside of her cheek to bits.

Davis and Violet glanced at each other, before she leaned forward and took a small hand bell off the coffee table between them and rang it. A moment later, a young lady appeared in the doorway of the room and Violet asked her to serve them some tea. The tension was tight and thick in the room while the tea was being made for them, no one saying a word to each other. The servant returned, carrying in a highly polished tea tray and set it down on the coffee table, setting out teacups for the four of them and filled the cups, before leaving the room again.

“What is your story, Lily?”

Carefully drizzling a bit of honey into her tea with a honey dipper and taking a fortifying sip of it, Lily started her story. “You know that I had been seeing Jak.” She said, looking between her grandparents.

“We did.” Violet nodded, taking a sip of her own tea.

“Well, what you didn't know was Jak had been abusive to me.” She continued, staring into the rich and steamy liquid in the expensive china teacup. “He had been the entire time we were together. But, I was too naive and silly to break it off with him for the longest time. But, after a particularly bad incident, I decided I couldn't take it any longer. So, I packed a bag and went to live with Maggie. I didn't tell you-” She paused, brow creased, she had often thought about why she hadn't told them, but had never really pinned down a specific reason to why she hadn't.

But, she shook that thought off.

“I honestly don't know why I hadn't. All I knew was I was terrified of Jak finding me again and dragging me back into the life and situation I had been living in for so long with him. While I was with Maggie, I changed my name from Liliana Jade Warren to Lily Ana Moore, to make it harder for him to find me, which made it hard for the both of you to find me, and finished university.” She continued on. “After I did that, I moved to a very small town in Texas and started my own company for my Graphic Design and Photography.”

“It's how I've been supporting myself.”

“I was so consumed by my paranoia and fear of Jak finding me, that I never left the house I bought in Texas, five years ago, this is the farthest I've been from it, since I've moved there.” She confessed, looking to Sy, who smiled at her, supportive and proud.

“What's changed?” Her grandfather asked, his own teacup still where the servant set it, ignored and cold. “Why are you here now?”

Lily cleared her throat and set her tea aside. “I left and became reclusive, agoraphobic, because I felt unsafe and afraid. That Jak would end up finding me and hurting me. He did end up finding me, but Austin...” She looked to Sy, her eyes filled with appreciative love and pride. “Austin makes me feel safe again. He's protected me, in more than one way, and he's shown me what real love is. I owe him so much.”

Sy grinned brightly at her, gripping her hand, a bit choked up at her words.

“He's helped me get back to this place, a place I've held onto, wanting to be a productive member of society, to be back in your life and be your granddaughter again. I miss you and I love you both. That never changed and it will never change.”

“That never changed for us either, Lily.” Violet replied, resting her teacup back on its saucer. “You will always be our precious granddaughter and we have always loved you; from the moment you were born to this moment right now.”

“I hope you could find it in your heart, to have a little more love.” Lily whispered, biting the inside of her lip, gulping.

“For what?” Violet frowned, brows drawing together and head tilting at her.

Lily looked to Sy, who nodded his head at her. “Sy and I are expecting.” She mumbled, not meeting either of her grandparents' eyes.

“You're with child?” Violet asked, shocked disbelief in her voice.

“I am.” Lily nodded, whimpering.

“I hope you're not here, thinking this little reunion will get you money.” Her grandfather snapped, coldly.

Lily's eyes snapped over to him, a cold knot of shock, hurt and anger in her stomach, she could feel the tension stiffen Sy's body. “We don't need any of the family money.” She hissed, eyes hardening. “My business alone is quite well off, thank you; and I'm more than offended at the accusation.”

“That's putting it politely.” Sy chimed in, staring daggers into the old man.

“Davis.” Violet barked, offended at her husband's insult as well, she had no feeling that Lily and Sy were there looking for money or assistance with their lives or the baby.

“Excuse me, for the last time I recalled a couple sitting on that very same couch to tell us they were expecting a child, it was our sweet Daisy and that good for nothing, Palmer, and we all saw how that ended.” Davis replied, his voice cold and sharp.

“Austin isn't my father.” Lily barked, her voice mirroring her grandfather's.

Lily and her grandfather glared darkly at each other, before Violet grew annoyed with their childish behavior and clapped her bony hands together, catching the room's attention.

“That is quite enough.” She scolded them.

Sy hid his smirk around the rim of his teacup, already liking Lily's grandmother.

“How far along are you?” Violet asked, looking at Lily.

“Almost thirteen weeks.” She replied, unconsciously touching her belly.

“Do you know what you're having?”

“Not yet.” Lily grinned at Sy, giddy at the thought of finding out the gender of the baby, she didn't care if it was a boy or a girl, she was just excited in general. “We won't know for another five weeks.” She added, glancing over at her grandmother.

“Well,” Violet grinned, her eyes lighting up. “I can't wait to meet my great-grandbaby.” She said, sounding overjoyed at the prospect. “Davy?” She looked to her husband, her eyes still filled with excitement, but outlined with warning.

Davis looked at her for a moment, then over at Lily, before looking down at the watch on his right wrist, then stood. “I have to meet Mac in the south orchard.” He said, tonelessly, and left the room.

Lily let out an uneven breath and painful tears punched her in the chest, turning her face into Sy's collarbone as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her against his side, pressing his lips to her hair. Violet's mouth was pressed into a thin, angry, lipstick red line as she continued to stare out the study doorway after Davis, the rapturous event of finding out about their great-grandbaby being overshadowed by his stubborn pigheadedness.

“I think we should go.” Sy said to Lily, gently wiping away her tears.

“Please, do stay.” Violet chimed in, turning her attention back to them. “There's more than enough room right here.” She said, looking back and forth between Lily and Sy. “Please, it's been so long, Lily. You've been gone and so far away. Town is twenty minutes away and with you here now, two minutes is too far away.”

Lily looked up at Sy.

“It's up to you, Angel.” He whispered, brushing his thumb against her flushed cheek.

She looked over at her grandmother. “Of course, I would love that.” She whispered, wiping her nose on the back of her hand.

Violet smiled at her, relieved to have her granddaughter under the same roof again. “I'll have Clara set two extra places at the table.” She grinned, overjoyed. “I'll even have her make your favorites for lunch and dinner.”

Lily smiled at her, touched at her grandmother's sentiment. “Thank you.”

“You remember where your room is?” She replied, lifting a brow at her.

“I do.” Lily nodded her head.

“Then, I won't keep you any longer. I'm sure you must be tired with the baby and the long journey from Texas.”

“I am.” She agreed, sighing softly.

“Off you both go then, the bell will ring, when lunch is ready.”

“Thank you, Mee-Maw.” Lily said, nodding her head and stood up, Sy standing with her.

“Ma'am.” Sy nodded his head to Violet, then followed Lily out of the room and down the hall to a flight of stairs. “Well, that didn't go as badly as the two of us thought it would.” He commented, mounting the stairs behind her.

“No, it did not.” Lily replied over her shoulder, going up the three sets of stairs. “I just hope my grandfather comes around.” She added, coming to the second floor and going down to a door at the very end of the hall. “This is...was—my room.” She said, turning the vintage, metal and ceramic door knob that had a hand-painted gold floral design on it, and pushed the door open.

The bedroom was spacious and bright with the mid-morning sun shining in through four windows, between one set of windows sat a squat, five compartment, vintage chest of drawers, across from that was a full sized, poster bed, with the doorway to a bathroom to the left and a walk-in closet to the right. There was a bookcase and table against the wall by the door, mostly filled with church and home school related things.

“It's a nice room.” Sy commented, picking up one of the books on the table, a bible.

“Thanks.” Lily smiled, shyly, seeing that her grandparents had left her room the exact way she'd left it, when she moved out.

“Do you wanna rest for a little while?” He suggested, stepping up behind her and resting his hands on her hips, gently pressing his thumbs into the small of her back and massaging them.

“Yeah.” She moaned, her head dropping back against his chest, turning to kiss the underside of his bearded jaw.

“How about a nice warm bath first, maybe a cup of tea?”

Lily chuckled into his neck, grinning. “So dotting, Captain.” She teased him.

“I love you.” He cooed, kissing her forehead, then moved away from her and went into the bathroom, plugging the drain on the ancient claw-foot tub and turned the X-shaped tap handles.

Lily padded into the bathroom, sitting down on the closed toilet seat and pushed down the stress of her grandfather's behavior towards her, to watch Sy fill the bath for her, a soft smile on her face. She stood up for a moment and reached underneath the sink and removed a small bottle and handed it to him. Sy smiled at her and took it from her, uncapping it and getting the strong snap of eucalyptus and sprinkled the Epsom salt into the delicately warm water, before turning off the tap. He grabbed a towel and folded it, then situated it at one end of the tub, to pillow her head, when she started to soak.

“Now, where is the kitchen?” He asked, looking at her.

“Down the stairs, first door to your right.” Lily replied, getting out of her clothing.

“Cool, I'll be right back.” Sy told her, kissing her temple and stepped out of the room to go downstairs to get her tea.

Lily finished undressing and carefully stepped into the pleasantly warm water, leaning back with a soft and satisfied moan, focusing on the warm water enveloping her body easing away her aches and pains, melting away the anxieties that had accumulated during the drive over from Texas and the visit. While Sy found the kitchen and pushed open the swinging door, finding the cook, Clara, inside, who looked up as she heard him come in and wiped her hands on her apron.

“Can I help you?” She asked, lifting a brow at him.

“Um, just need a cup of tea.” He replied, licking his lips and glancing around the kitchen.

“Oh, of course, right away.”

“I'd hate to put you out.” Sy said, alarmed.

Clara chuckled at him, pulling down a cup from a high cabinet. “It's what the Warren's hired me for.” She assured him. “I'm guessing it's for Lily.” She added, moving about the kitchen as she put the things together to make the tea.

“Yeah.” He nodded, then patiently waited for her to finish and took the cup from her. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Clara smiled, and returned to what she had been doing.

Sy carefully took the cup back upstairs to Lily, smiling as he stepped into the bathroom and saw her lounging comfortably in the tub. He was glad she could relax and let the stress go, even if it was for a little while. Lily stirred as he sat down beside her, smiling at him and taking the cup of tea from his outstretched hands and let out a pleased moan.

“Feels like a spa day.” She chuckled, handing her teacup back to Sy for him to hold, so she could relax back again.

“You deserve to relax.” Sy replied, softly. “You've got an important job to do.”

“Yeah, I'm growing a Syverson.” Lily chuckled, teasingly.

“Exactly.” He laughed back. “That's no easy feat to bring one of us into the world.”

“Bringing a Syverson into the world is just the start of it, then we have to raise them.”

“Oh, trouble, trouble, trouble.” Sy grinned at her. “Nothing, but trouble.”

“Toil and bubble.” Lily giggled, fully amused and lighthearted.

“Come on, sleepy, out with you.” Sy said, setting her empty teacup on the vanity counter and pulled the towel off the bar and held it open for her.

“Okay.” Lily replied, stifling a yawn with her hand.

Stepping out of the tub and into Sy's arms, she rested her forehead against his chest and let him dry her off. Sy had taken a liking to drying her off after she showered or bathed, since she'd become pregnant, none of which Lily protested to, she was usually very sleepy by the time she got out of them, so having him there to finish up was always nice.

“Oh, fuck.” He barked, after helping back into her clothing. “Your pillow is still in the truck.”

“It won't kill me to have one nap without it.” Lily said, through yet another yawn.

“You were a very cranky mama bear the last time you didn't have that thing to sleep with.” He reminded her. “I'll go down and get it, just sit tight.”

“I'd rather lay tight.” She huffed, starting to get cranky as she shuffled over to her bed and laid down.

Sy rushed back downstairs and nearly collided with Violet. “Oh my god, I am so sorry.” He panted, making sure she was all right. “ Are you okay?”

“I'm fine, where's the fire, Mr. Syverson?”

“Lily's laying down for her nap and I just realized she doesn't have her pregnancy pillow and she always wakes up very cranky, when she doesn't have it to sleep with.” He explained, calming down.

Violet smiled up at Sy, touched and pleased at the plain devotion he had for her granddaughter. “Well, we can't have that, now can we?” She chuckled, rolling back out of his way.

“No, ma'am.” Sy shook his head at her.

“Violet, Mr. Syverson. Just call me Violet.” She informed him as Sy reached the front door.

He paused, hand on the door and smiled at her, remembering when Lily told him to call her by her given name. “Of course, Ms. Violet.” He nodded at her, politely.

Violet smiled back at him and Sy went out to his truck.

“Hey, girl.” Sy said, opening the passenger door of the truck and only to get attacked by Aika's tongue. “I know, I know. I haven't forgotten about ya. I promise.” He chuckled, petting her. “I'll come back down in a couple minutes and take care of you. But first, I have to take care of your mama.” He said, reaching in the back seat for Lily's U-Shaped pillow, pushed Aika back and closed the door again, before rushing back upstairs.

“Okay, pillow.” Sy said, bursting into the room, only to find Lily curled into a ball and sound asleep, making him chuckling. He situated her pillow and gently unrolled Lily from her ball and slipped her between her pillow, before covering her up.

“Sleep sweet, Angel.” He whispered, kissing her cheek softly, then went back downstairs. “Um, do you know where Ms. Violet is?” He asked the servant that had served him and Lily tea when they had first arrived.

“Yes, she's in the private study, right through there.” She replied, pointing the way.

“Thank you.” He nodded, then went down, gently knocking on the door.

“Enter.”

“Ms. Violet?”

“Ah, Mr. Syverson, I'm trusting the pillow crisis was averted?” She asked, an amused glitter in her eyes.

Sy chuckled. “It was, thank you.”

“Then, what can I help you with?”

“I, uh, brought Lily and I's dog with us...” He said, sheepishly, though Lily's grandmother seemed like a very sweet woman, Sy got the vibe she was the authority in this household and crossing her wasn't the way to go. “She's in my truck and I didn't want to take her out without asking first, so I didn't step on any toes and cause any issues with you and your husband.”

“What kind of dog is she?”

“She's a German Shepherd.” Sy replied, licking his lips. “I found her in the war-zone on my last deployment.” He half explained to her.

Violet blinked several times at Sy. “You were in the military?”

“Yes, ma'am.” He nodded, with a deep sense of pride. “I was a Captain in the U.S Army, Special Forces, for more than ten years.”

“What's the pup's name?”

“Aika.”

“Well, Aika is more than welcome here.” She told him. “As long as she behaves herself.” She added, a soft smile on her face.

“She's a very well behaved dog, you have my word.” Sy replied, smiling back at her.

“Good.” Violet nodded. “Just make sure you keep her out of the orchards or Davis will have a never-ending fit.”

“Will do.”

Excusing himself, Sy went back out to the truck and put Aika on her leash, walking her around the front of the property and away from the orchards, making sure to clean up after her, then brought her inside, taking her upstairs to Lily's room, where she curled up on the bed with Lily, before he decided to do a little exploring himself before lunch.

He wandered into the orchards, seeing the short trunks, but wide crowns, light green and shiny apples weighing down its branches and a couple littered the ground. There easily had to be a hundred trees of the same sort for as far as Sy could see in the area he was in, before he moved on. Sy came to a small dirt lane and crossed it into a totally different portion of the orchard, these trees were still squat and wide, but the apples on their branches were medium sized and mostly two toned, a dull red that faded into a yellow-y green color.

He crossed another dirt road and found another orchard of another kind of apple, this one a light yellow color, when he heard voices and then his name and turned, seeing Lily's grandfather, realizing he had wandered into the south orchard.

“What are you doing out here?” Davis asked, approaching him.

“Just looking around.” Sy replied, keeping his tone guarded. “Lily's told me a lot about the place.”

“And where is she?”

“Back at the house, sleeping.” Sy told him, his shoulders stiff. “She gets tired a lot with the baby.”

“Hm.” Davis huffed and turned on his heels.

“What's your problem?” Sy barked after him, unable to hold his temper any longer. “She just wants her grandfather, the man that raised her, back in her life, in her child's life. Not your money or your business, just your love and affection.”

Davis spun around on his heels to face Sy. “I might have raised her, because my Daisy died, and her father was an unreliable scum, but she's making the same mistake her mother did. I won't be part of that again.”

“I won't be there when it kills her too.” He hissed, then stormed off.

Lily woke up to Sy's angry pacing at the foot of the bed and cursing under his breath, and sat up, rubbing at her eyes. “What's wrong, Bear?” She asked, frowning at him.

“Your grandfather is a pigheaded, son of a bitch.”

Her mouth fell open for a moment, then her brows drew together and her eyes narrowed. “Did the two of you get into an argument?”

“Sorta.” He huffed back.

“For the love of Jesus, Austin.” Lily barked at him, pressing her hands to her face. “Why?”

“I didn't go lookin' for it, Lily.” He retorted, stopping his pacing. “I was just checking out the orchards and ran into him. One thing came to another, I asked him what his problem was, all you want is his love and affection back, not his damned money or his orchard, and his reply was you're making the same mistake your mother made and you'll end up dying because of it too.”

“Which you will fucking not!” He added, a panicked fright breaking through his burst of anger.

“Of course, I'm not going too, Bear.”

Lily sighed, shaking her head and running her hand through her hair, before getting up out of bed. “I'll be more than all right. We have a great doctor and an amazing hospital back home. Plus, I have you to take care of and look after me, the whole time. I'll be perfectly safe and sound.” She told him, hugging her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest.

“Don't listen to him, Sy. He's just a grumpy old man, set in his ways.”

“What's that make me?” He asked, half jokingly.

“My boyfriend and Papa Bear.” She giggled, tilting her head back to look up at him.

“Good to know, Mama Bear.” He teased back, dipping his head to kiss her. “The fuck was that?” He asked as two loud dinging sounds filled the house.

“That is the lunch bell.” Lily replied, pulling away from him. “One ding is breakfast, two is lunch and three is dinner.” She explained to him, finding her shoes and slipping them back on. “Old Virginian hospitality, Syverson. I know you Texans aren't used to it.”

“Oh, you posh and polished Southerners.” He teased back, following her downstairs. “Give me the ringing of a triangle any day and this cowboy will know the way to the dinner table.”

“Remind me to buy one for our house, then.” Lily giggled, showing him into the family dinning room.

“Buy what for your house?” Violet asked, already seated at one end of the table.

“Oh, Sy was making fun of us for being—what did you call it?” She asked, looking at him as he vigorously shook his head at her. “Ah yes, posh and polished Southerners, for having a meal bell.” You grinned at him, impishly. “While, pointing out the Texas Cowboy in him could only find his way home, if he heard the call of a triangle bell.”

“I said, I would be able to find my way to the table. I know my way home, thank you very much.” He spoke up, his cheeks pink underneath the hairs of his beard.

Both Lily and Violet's laughter filled the dining room, but Sy soon joined them. But, the laughter died down as Davis entered the room, taking his place at the other end of the table, practically sucking the air out of the room as he took his seat.

“How is the south orchard doing?” Violet asked, as lunch was being served.

“One of the original York apple trees is starting to fail for some reason.” Davis replied, picking up the salt shaker. “Mac and I were running through a list of things we can do to save it.” He explained, paying closer attention to his food than to the others at the table with him.

“This looks really good.” Sy commented, licking his lips at his plate.

“It's one of Lily's favorites.” Violet smiled at him. “Creamy Shrimp pasta.”

“I used to try and bribe Clara into making it for every meal once for a whole summer.” Lily chuckled, twirling the angel hair pasta around her fork. “Never worked out.”

“Didn't deter you from trying though.” Violet chuckled, smiling fondly at her granddaughter. “I'm more than sure you'll love what Clara is making you for dinner.”

“I have no doubt.” She smiled back.

“Oh, Mr. Syverson, if you'd like a place to park your truck, I'm sure Davis could show you where the garage is.” Violet said, her eyes on her husband.

“Thank you, Ms. Violet.” Sy replied, smiling at her. “And, please, call me Sy or Austin, whichever you might prefer.” He told her, a bit shyly.

“Austin, it is.” Violet answered, giving him a sweet smile. “But, you can do that for him, can't you?” She said, lifting a brow at her husband, with an expression that dared him to object to her request.

Davis stared at his wife, his hard brown eyes holding Violet's stern blues, before his shoulders dropped slightly. “I'll show you after lunch.”

“Thank you.” Sy replied, stiffly.

Lily rested her hand on Sy's thigh, gently squeezing it, trying to keep him calm and relaxed. “How have the orchards been?” Lily asked her grandfather, trying to open any sort of connection with him. “I know picking season is coming up soon in the next few months.” She pointed out, gathering up a forkful of her shrimp pasta.

There was a long silence at the table, each second made Lily's heart clench tighter, fearing her grandfather would just continue to ignore her and pretend she didn't exist. She didn't know how much more of his coldness she could take, before it became too much to bear and she would just want to leave again.

No matter how much it would hurt.

“Other than the York tree showing signs of white rot, the orchards are as productive and fruitful as ever.” He finally spoke.

“What happens if you don't cure the white rot?” Lily frowned, concerned for the tree.

“We lose the tree.” Davis sighed, resting back in his chair and tossing his napkin onto the table beside his plate. “It'll only be the third originally planted tree on the farm we've ever lost. Well, with any luck the rot won't spread and it won't hit us too hard.” He explained, looking at her.

“Just because you lost one, don't mean you'll lose more.” Lily replied, holding his gaze.

Davis dropped his eyes and nodded his head, sighing, then looked up at Sy, noticing his empty plate. “You done?”

“I am.” Sy nodded, wiping his mouth.

“Come on, and I'll show you where the garage is and you can park your truck.” He said, standing up, leaving his half eaten lunch on the table.

“I'll be right back.” Sy whispered to Lily, kissing her cheek and stood, following her grandfather out of the house.

The walk from the house was silent as they stepped off the paved driveway and onto a pea gravel lane that led a little ways away from the house, through a small grove of very ancient looking weeping willows to a large building with several vehicles parked outside of it.

“You can park it here.” Davis said, motioning to the area in front of them.

“Thanks.” Sy nodded to him, then turned back to get his truck.

Bringing his truck around and finding a place to park it, Sy got out and and grabbed their duffel bag out of the back and locked up, heading back up to the house; when Davis stopped in his tracks, noticing the duffel bag slung over his shoulder; the worn military green and the faded, black U.S letters.

“Something the matter?” Sy frowned, turning back to him.

“That's a military bag.” Davis replied.

“Yes, it is.” He nodded, shifting it on his shoulder and tilting his head at the other man.

“It's yours?”

Sy's shoulders slumped and he stared at the old man. “I served more than ten years in the U.S Army as a Captain in the Special Forces.” He explained to him. “I retired almost a year ago.”

“How did you and Lily meet?”

“As I said, I retired almost a year ago and I returned home to Austin, Texas.” Sy replied, sighing. “Even though I could live quite well on my retirement, I don't like not having a job or being idle. So, I went about applying for jobs, mostly jobs I could do with my hands, construction jobs and such. A construction company told me about a contract that they had gotten from a young lady, who needed help fixing her place up in Celina, which is about three hours south of Austin. I called about it and got the job. I'm sure you guessed, it was Lily.” He smirked, chuckling to himself.

“I started fixing the place up for her and we grew close, especially after we helped each other through a few traumatic things.”

“Like, what?”

“I have pretty severe PTSD from my time in deployment and Lily's gotten me through more than one episode.” Sy smirked, blushing slightly and toeing the ground with the tip of his boot. “She's the guiding light to holding them back.” He whispered softly. “As for her, she's been through a lot in the last five years, especially the fear and turmoil caused by Jak.” He said. “There's nothing on this planet, there hasn't been anything on this planet, I wouldn't do to ensure her happiness and safety.”

Sy looked Davis dead in the eyes, a deep seriousness coming over him, even though he had a knot in his stomach. “Listen, your granddaughter isn't a little girl anymore. She's a grown woman, and a beautiful, loving and intelligent one, at that. She's so incredibly caring for the people around her, even when she's been so hurt and her trust in people has been cut deeply. Her work ethic is admirable, she built a company from the reclusion of her own home, that she hadn't left in more than three years, and it is thriving. She's even currently in the process of interviewing people to fill two positions, because she has so many clients, that she's in need of the extra help.”

“You're projecting the fear of your daughter’s mistakes and death on Lily and it isn't fair to her, or to you and your wife.”

“My Daisy Mae's misfortunes aren't the only failures that have me disappointed in the situation.” Davis said, rolling his jaw at Sy.

Sy huffed at him, biting his lip and nodding his head at him. “You think I'd be some, what was it, unreliable scum, like her father?” He asked, lifting a brow at him.

Davis sighed back at him, scrubbing a palm over his wrinkled forehead and lifted a brow at him. “Come with me.” He said, motioning him back towards the house.

Pressing his lips together, Sy followed him back up to the house and into Davis's private study, setting the duffel bag down by the door as Davis closed it behind him. Davis motioned to a leather and mahogany upholstered chair in front of a cold fireplace, then moved over to a small table of bottles and glasses, pouring them both a drink. He handed Sy a glass and took the seat across from him, taking a long sip.

“Smooth stuff.” Sy commented, licking his lips and admiring the rich, amber liquid.

“Maker's Mark, Kentucky bourbon whiskey.” Davis replied, smirking at his glass, appreciatively.

“Anyhow.” He cleared his throat, balancing his glass on the arm of his chair. “Palmer Hughes. He came to work here in the summer of 1985, he was twenty years old and Daisy was eighteen. I knew the boy was trouble the moment I set eyes on him and knew I should have sent him picking.”

“But, for whatever reason, and against my better judgment, I didn't.”

“He took an instant liking to our Daisy, who was ordinarily a good mannered, well behaved and proper girl. But, as soon as he set his eyes on her, he started corrupting her. He would stop coming to work in the fields to sneak himself and her off the property and go into town or wherever it was they would go to. Daisy started to become more defiant and rebellious. One of our church elders even spotted her and Palmer with a group of their lowlife friends in a questionable area of town, getting high, smoking and drinking.”

“It was such an embarrassment.” He sighed, taking a deep gulp of his drink. “When Daisy was twenty-one, she came to her mother and I and told us she was pregnant. Palmer had split the moment he found out about it. But, I tracked his no good ass down and dragged him back. He and Daisy got married just before Lily was born.”

“What happened?” Sy asked, frowning at him, the burn of the alcohol melting through the knot in his stomach as he thought about it. “How did her mother die?”

“She developed a hemorrhage that the doctor's couldn't get under control, so she ended up bleeding to death.” Davis explained, growing pale at the memory of the doctor's telling him and his wife the news of their daughter’s death, their only child. “For his part, Palmer did seem distraught over her death. But, he blamed Lily for it. So, he spent the rest of her life coming in and out of it, before Violet and I finally just adopted her and permanently took care of her.”

“It was Violet and I that ended up naming Lily, as well. Daisy hadn't picked one, that we were aware of, and Palmer wasn't being cooperative with anyone, us or the hospital staff.”

“Where is her father now?”

Davis sighed and carefully regarded Sy for a long moment, before replying. “He died, some years ago.”

Sy blinked at him, shocked. “You never told Lily this.”

“No.” He shook his head, guilty. “Vi and I thought it would be best that we didn't.”

“That's not really for either of you to decide.” Sy frowned at him, annoyed. “Lily deserves the truth.”

“I know she does.” Davis agreed. “I'll tell her, one day. As for you, Austin.” He met Sy's eyes. “I've unjustly projected my prejudices of Palmer onto you. You are, not even an ounce, the man he was. You are a man I wish my own daughter would have met and fallen in love with. But, I am glad my granddaughter met, fallen in love with and is having my great-grandbaby with you.”

“Thank you.” Sy answered, taking his compliment and finished off his drink.

[iayhifbigyakwiltbsywps]

Fuckkk I had something really long written but my connection failed and now I can’t find it but this is important if you or someone you know has adhd and takes stimulant medications like methylphenidate. This will probably be weird because I wrote the original like 12 hours ago and I just got home so if the other one magically reappears then they will be really different.

Basically I wanted to make people aware that taking stimulant medications has the potential to do more harm than good. I have adhd and have drank concerta since the third grade and im currently in 11th. I have been noticing throughout the 2019-now time period that I really have lost all motivation and that I don’t really have interest in anything even getting up to eat. And I was like ‘well that’s not alright’ and so I did what every one does: I googled it. I asked google “can adhd medications cause brain damage and lessen motivation?” And honestly I was not really expecting an answer, kinda just hoping to see blankness and be relived that it was just something random I thought. Boy was I surprised.

I actually found this:

This is literally the answer I was too scared to find because a) it proved my suspicions correct and did kinda bring a different kind of relief in knowing I’m not just hysteric and b) this hit wayyy too close to home. The part in blue feels wayyy too familiar to me because all I do Is be on my bed on my phone most of tinge time and my parants keep getting concerned and like “go get a job, find a hobby, do something!” And I am honestly strangely alright with my situation, like I hate it but I still don’t try to change it because I can’t!

Forgot what else I could of said there on the fist draft, but onto the next peice of evidence!

This pretty much said that this meds were tested on rats and that the rats ended up losing all motivation to even react when they should be looking to escape a bad situation. That once the medication stops we no longer have drive to motivation.

This also states that the nucleus accumbens is the part of the brain that forms motivation into action and when you take these meds your actually risking it shrinking and leading to no motivational drive.

Also that there are other options if you are convinced you or your child needs help to lead a successful life then there are other options that are not stimulants!

I also found some videos but could only resurfaced one which I think is the most important: https://youtu.be/nif8TFPhjuI

This video basically talks about one of the beginning trails of adhd medications that ended up being a huge success after the recorded 14 months that this trial was conducted, but what most people who do their research probably don’t dig deep enough to check that after they took the pills away they came back 3 years later to see how they faired. Turns out that the my were actually worse and the adhd was too much or something. ( sorry I’m trying to remember what I wrote but I only slept like 10 minutes last night and it’s already 1am so my eyes are shutting)

I can’t remember much right nos but if I find the other articles or videos Ik re log or something.

Here are the links to the articles:

https://www.nytimes.com/roomfordebate/2012/06/09/fewer-prescriptions-for-adhd-less-drug-abuse/adhd-drugs-have-long-term-risks

https://www.leonardsax.com/stimulants.htm

There were more but I’m fighting To stay awake right now sorry.

Oh I just remembered something:

This is what happens when you give stimulants to a brain that is underdeveloped (brains aren’t yet developed until they are like 21) so if y’all need meds try taking non stimulants or else you’ll just cause growth problems for yourself

I really hope some people find this useful and that no one goes through what I am cuz it really kinda sucks and I hate it but I can’t do much to change it.

Also after hours trying to figure out a way to tell my mom I had finally told her and you know what she said? She said “if we take you of these meds will you promise to try to care about yourself more?” And like I didn’t say anything but sure mom I totally didn’t just work up the courage to try and tell you within the day I found this informants on when it would usually take me months to say things I think are important but yeah I totally need to try a bit more ugh!

Honestly I think it’s shit that I’m not even 18 yet and I already feel like all my fight has gone out of me. Like if it weren’t for my parents that actually care about me I would of let myself starve to death. And now there’s no way to thank them because I can barely move to get food much less show them my thanks. Mom dad I love you and I’m sorry my brain if fucked up.

Hi just a little edit here, I wanted to say that both articles are by the same person I just put the second one because the link didn’t work for me so I had to look for their actual page that was mentioned. But also I read further down on the second article and I saw there are more links to other related articles in the second link where this person wrote their actual research and citations

[thatnerdwolfnell]

Pocky challenge: MC x Main six

The Pocky game is a party game played withPocky, a Japanese chocolate- or candy-coated biscuit snack. Two participants place the Pockybetween them “Lady and the Tramp” style, and try to be the last to hold onto the biscuit, often resulting in a kiss.

^coppied from google.

Ohohoho. Yes. Thank you. I love you. This would have been done yesterday, but I was a dumb bastard and I ran out of my meds so I was busy feeling like general shit. Sidenote: me and my uni friends used to do this with gummy bears before Covid because we have no shame I guess? Idk.

Pocky game Mc and Main 6

Asra:

He loves it. Even when you kiss him regularly he still loves the thrill and challenge of the game.

He has a bit of a competitive streak so if he has to he will full on kiss you and suck the slimy ass pocky out of your mouth. (I'm sorry for that image)

When he pulls out some strawberry pocky hes already got that cheeky knifecat smirk on his face.

He rattles the box a bit specifically to draw your attention

He gets that dark heavy sparkle in his eyes as he puts the strawberry end between his lips and just looks at you, completely still.

You try to hide your smile, you love when he gets like this.

Asra has a thing for games.

You shift over on the couch enough that you can take the end of end of the pocky in your teeth.

He leans in to take another bite and steadies you with an unexpected hand sliding up from the small of your back.

you raise an eyebrow

The corner of his mouth twitches up into a grin.

he takes a deep breath and holds it as he inches closer. He somehow has nibbling the pocky within millimeters down to a practiced skill and he always holds his breath when he starts getting close. It's a focus thing and probably to keep from moving too much. You can tell he expects to win.

You lace a hand through his hair gently anchoring at the nape of his neck, and bite off most of your end

He blinks in surprise and finally lets out his breath slow enough that it catches in his throat and sends goosebumps down your spine.

His face is so warm next to yours. You can hear his heartbeat, quick and shallow in his chest.

"Gib ub yet?" You ask. There's not much left of the pocky but you know he won't stop.

He grins around the pocky.

The hand on your back slides to your waist. The other skims along your thigh and you gasp slightly.

He doesn't break eye contact. You let out a shaky breath as he nibbles just enough off to keep your lips from touching. If you moved you could easily kiss him.

He plays dirty. He likes teasing you. Waiting for your next move.

You kiss him hard and push him down onto the couch taking the whole last bit of the pocky in your mouth and crunching down.

He tilts his head back and laughs his hair falling back into his face.

"mm I think you cheated" he smirks and leans in to kiss along your jaw

"So did you." You say. You grab another pocky and smooth his hair away from his face before you push off.

Nadia:

Well Nadia isn't really one for party games but she IS one for food. (I think we have a couple different canon scenes I could use as evidence here)

She's never heard of it but she's intrigued.

It's after dinner and you're both still at the table. This isn't something she would ever do in public

"If you wanted me to kiss you, all you had to do was ask...but if you'd rather earn it that can be arranged"

She takes a pocky and gently feeds the end in your mouth.

"If you drop it you'll have to earn my kisses some other way. And I'll be sure to make it a very long night."

She smiles sweetly with just a hint of a smirk and your heart skips a beat.

The way she looks at you with so much reverence, like you're one of her intricate, beautiful machines and she'll take you apart piece by piece just to understand every part.

She starts eating her end and you do the same. She somehow looks elegant with her lips pressed around the pocky and the heat of her breath condensing against the chocolate.

She pauses at the very last bit and let's you close the gap. Her lipstick tastes sweet and floral.

You deepen the kiss and run a hand along her shoulder.

She grabs you by the waist and leans you back against the table in one smooth movement without breaking the kiss.

One hand pins your wrist against the wood above your head while the other is still wrapped around your waist under your back so that it arches slightly.

"I didn't say you could do that, MC." There's amusement in her voice that draws in a low whisper.

She gently caresses down your neck stopping in the middle of your chest. "But I don't want to wait."

She kisses you and you kiss back letting your hands wander through her hair while she presses down over you.

"that's good, love. We should do this more often."

Julian:

He suggests it at the rowdy raven one night. A game he picked up in his pirate days.

"Come on, who's down for a little fun? Make the party more interesting."

Nadia rolls her eyes.

Portia immediately looks at you and pointedly tilts her head at Julian, wiggling an eyebrow suggestively.

You blush a little. You're about to volunteer to play when Lucio steps in.

"I'm up for the challenge. Give you a chance to get near my lips, hey Jules?"

If Julian is disappointed, he doesn't show it. He just grins and pulls out a pocky. "Alright that's the spirit!"

They move down the pocky rather fast and it's clearly a competition. Neither hesitates before meeting in the middle. Julian pulls of with a dramatic peck before pulling away just as fast.

"Anybody else?"

"I'll go!" You take your chance a little too quickly and you see Portia smile in the corner of your eye.

Ah MC. Perfect!" He seems surprised. Maybe a little flustered.

You take a pocky in your mouth and offer him the other end.

He blushes and leans in to start chipping at the biscuit.

He smells like salt and leather. You can feel his heartbeat in his lips moving the stick.

You lean in further, resting a hand on his knee as if for balance. He stiffens but you can see his smirk grow wider.

You both hesitate at the last little piece, caught in the moment of closeness. You start to move to take it and kiss him but he pulls away before you do.

You look at him startled. He's bright red and flustered.

"Ah. um MC I- I didn't think you were going to-"

He's been doing this. Avoiding you when he knows you both want it. You've had enough of that.

"Did you want to?"

He blinks. "What?"

"Kiss me. Did you want to?"

You hold him under your gaze and his eyes soften into something like longing. Or guilt. Or hunger.

"...yes." he says it simply and quietly. Like the only true thing he can find in a single soft word.

And you kiss him. You feel him melt into the kiss and he's kissing you back.

You hold his face in your hands and he pulls you in closer.

You can feel how much he wants this. Like water in the desert. His brow is furrowed in desperation. You break away.

The hurt in his eyes is obvious and you brush his hair out of his face rubbing a thumb along his cheek.

"Hey," you look him in the eyes and try to convey everything in that look. "I'm not going anywhere, you get that?"He nods.

"We can have this all the time." You say.

His eyes wander down your body. "All the time..." He repeats softly.

You kiss him again, much gentler this time. He pulls you in and you feel like THIS is how things were always supposed to be. And this is the life you want to have. With Julian and your friends, and everything right in the world.

Muriel :

He is a blushy boy. But he's been approaching things like this with curiosity, and maybe even wonder, even if it can be hard to tell.

He never refuses a touch or a kiss, and for a while you weren't sure he knew he COULD refuse.

You don't want to make him uncomfortable and you were worried he just tolerated it for your sake.

While he's been getting better, he still lacks awareness of what he wants and likes. You've been helping him figure out his boundaries after years of having them constantly violated and convincing himself that it doesn't matter.

When you told him he seemed surprised. "No, I like it, MC. I always like it." He made it clear that he would say no if he was uncomfortable, "like with cantaloupe or bananas." He said.

(Not eating foods he didn't like had been game changer. A lot of textures bother him.)

Since then he's been making more of an effort to initiate and touch has become something of communication for him.

Hand squeezes for comfort, an arm barring you from accidentally stepping in a rabbit hole, a touch on the shoulder to say "be careful", a nudge to say "look at this", a nuzzle into your neck to say "I love you"

It's just easier than talking. It's how he's always talked to Asra amd Inanna despite the telepathy.

But this is something different.

"But...why?" He asks as you take a pocky from the box. He's already blushing like crazy.

"Because it's fun." You say and you put the end in your mouth.

He frowns but you can see the amusement in his eyes.

He takes a small bite off the end and leans back chewing it curiously.

You laugh. "No, you're supposed to keep going and we hold on until we get to the middle."

"Oh." He leans back in and starts eating away at his end. He looks at you for confirmation, a look of confusion on his face.

You smile and inch closer.

He's bright red and you can feel the heat from his face and his heartbeat, strong and fast.

You both pause at the last bit, daring the other to make a move.

His green eyes are bright and sharp as they lock with yours for just a glance.

Then he closes the gap kissing you gently. Eyes closed, taking the last bit before moving away.

A hand rests on your waist and the other on your shoulder.

"Sorry, did you want the last bit?" You think he's teasing you, but the alarm in his eyes say he's completely serious.

You laugh "no, of course not. I just wanted to kiss you."

He smiles and pulls you into his arms. "I know. But I thought you still... might have wanted it." He shrugs.

He looks down at you and you feel his heart skip. "You could still taste it. ...if you wanted to that is."

What? His mouth twitches up into a slight smirk.

OH.

You kiss him for real this time. And you both end up on the floor of the hut laughing.

You kiss him again.

And he kisses you.

Again and again and again.

Portia:

Yeah she's definitely played before.

Something about the kitchen staff at the last masquerade?

Anyway the rowdy raven has gotten, well, rowdy.

Julian brought the pocky and there's enough overly competitive people in the room that there's been a few kisses.

Portia grabs the box from brother and shakes it teasingly in your direction.

"MC!" She winks. "How about it?"

Her face is flushed from Mazelinka's sangria that she snuck in (which you're pretty sure is actually just pure liquor) but Portia can hold her drink despite going red rather quickly.

You grin. "If you think you're up for it."

You get up and sit down next to her and move a piece of hair off her shoulder, resting your hand there longer than you need to.

She's beautiful when she's smiling like this, having fun.

You can't help a bit of a smile when she leans into your hand slightly while she takes out a pocky.

While you're distracted, she suddenly pokes the end into your mouth making you jump back in surprise.

"Mm hey!"

She just laughs leaning back in the booth letting her giggles fade with a snort.

"Don't drop it!" She says between laughs.

"I'b not!" The pocky is still hanging from your mouth and you wiggle it around for emphasis.

She leans forward and takes the other end in her mouth.

Her eyes sparkle and suddenly she's reaching her arms around your waist pulling you in closer

Your eyes widen and she smirks. You feel the exhale of a silent laugh on your skin.

You're so close and she's so warm. Your heart is pounding.

There isn't much left of the stick and you're not sure if–

Oh.

You didn't mean to but now your lips are together and they're warm and solid and everything seems to explode at once.

The last bit of pocky falls to the ground as you gasp.

She frowns slightly when you pull away, but she still has that self-satisfied expression.

You lean in again and lift your hand towards her face. Hesitating. Waiting for permission.

But then she gives you a look through her lashes. She glances again at your lips.

You tilt your head as you lean in and close your eyes, cradling her face in your hand and letting the other press against her waist.

She moves closer and you can feel her chest pressing against yours.

You pull her tighter and she makes a small delighted noise between a laugh and a gasp.

"Oh. I love this." You say between kisses.

She grins. "This'll be an adventure, hey?"

Lucio:

He sets the box of pocky on the table in front of you.

"You've heard of the pocky game right?"

You nod, unsure of where this is going. Normally Lucio is pretty straightforward about kissing you.

"Well how about a little wager? If you win I'll get you whatever the hell you want, a whole shopping spree of the finest jewels, clothes, whatever."

You nod again. "Alright and if you win?"

He shifts uncomfortably wringing his hands. "Well, if I win.... youhavetotakeCamiotohisvetcheckup."

You sigh. Oh god. So that's what this was about. Camio HATED the vet. That rascal of a bird would be screeching insults the whole time.

You could see why Lucio was trying to get out of it.

You love that little shit, but damn he could be annoying. He's the kind of bird that will hold a grudge for about a week, and he does not take vet trips lightly.

"Please?" Says Lucio, "and if we meet in the middle we go together."

"You realize that I could just say no and make you do it yourself, right?"

"But you're not going to because I'm your boyfriend and you love me?"

You frown.

"Okay but then you wouldn't get to kiss me. Plus Camio likes you more, he'll be nicer with you there."

You pause considering. It WOULD be good to have a buffer instead of leaving the poor vet with Camio and Lucio by themselves.

"Fine, but ONLY if you win, remember?"

"YES!" he eagerly grabs a pocky and sticks one end in his mouth.

You take the other end and start chewing as fast as you can.

He takes a moment to get his bearings and catch up but once he does you're both at the very end right before the middle.

Neither of you want to move, both trying to avoid the task.

You try to get him to back down by inching a little closer, but he stays put.

He moves the tiniest bit.

And then you kiss.

fuck.

"YES!" He shouts, jumping back in triumph.

"You have to come too, still." You say.

Yeah but i won't mind if you're there."

You sigh and lean back.

"Oh come on don't look like that. We'll do a half shopping spree. That seems more fair anyway. I get half a win, you get half a win."

You laugh. "Alright, alright. Where is that stupid bird anyway?"

[tardisheart134]

(x)

"Let me look at you." Cas said after letting Dean down onto his bed. Castiel went about the work of taking inventory of Dean's wounds. 

"Here Cas - " Sam set down the bunkers first aid kit. Cas opened Dean's sleeve to see a deep gash that had been bleeding through his shirt. 

"That's gonna need stitches." Sam said. "Here, let me."

"No. I'll do it Sam." 

"Are you sure?" Sam had watched Cas heal Dean countless times - but without his grace he figured that he would be the expert here. 

"I said I'll take care of it." Cas bit sharply. "I may not have my grace, but I'm not entirely useless." Cas usually didn't take such a sharp tone, especially not with Sam, but he was mad. He hated not being able to heal Dean with a simple touch. 

Dean gave Sam a look letting him know that he would be okay. He'd been injured far worse in his life and had even on occasion given himself his own stitches. He would be able to walk Cas through this, if needed.  Sam turned to leave the room to retrieve of whiskey for Dean.

"I am sorry." Cas said without meeting Dean's eyes. "I didn't mean to snap at Sam. I just hate being so damn useless." Cas readied the kit before he threaded the needle. 

"Cas-" Dean waited until Cas finally looked at him. "You're not useless.  You are more than just your grace." Cas looked back down at the kit avoiding Dean's gaze and not allowing the words to sink in.  " I need you to hear me." Dean was urgent. "You were never just an angel to me. You know that,  right?" 

"I know." Cas dropped his eyes again and returned to his work, as he meticulously went about prepping the wound and disinfecting the skin around the gash in Dean's forearm. "I just hate seeing you in pain and I hate that I can't fix it." 

"With you here Cas - don't you know - I can't feel any pain?" Dean was trying to ease the tension and flirt a little. Sure Cas had confessed his love and Dean was sure to let him know that he felt the same way after they saved Cas from the Empty - but they hadn't really done this part. 

It had been mostly a few desperate hugs right after the rescue mission. There had been that one chaste kiss when Dean told Cas that he loved him back and they'd held hands once while watching a movie. But Dean's whole body ached for more. More Cas. He just didn't know where to start. There was a part of him that still worried that he and Cas didn't mean 'I love you' the same way. Dean had never doubted that Cas loved him throughout all of their friendship. And he had known for a long time that he loved him back. But what if Dean got it wrong? Dean was only human and he wanted things, physical expressions of that love. He wanted to flirt. He wanted to tell Cas how attractive he was and tell him how much he wanted him and watch the angel blush and smile. He didn't know if Cas felt that way about him too. 

Castiel's eyes briefly darted up to meet Dean's but he didn't return the smile. "Stop distracting me." Cas said flatly as a blush crept up his cheeks. He bit his bottom lip to stop it from quirking up into a grin. Cas tugged Dean's forearm up until it was resting in his lap. Dean let out a staggered breath as Cas started with the first stitch and he immediately felt the pang of the deep breath in his side. He must have a bruised a rib too.  "I'll be quick." 

Dean was impressed with Castiel's precision as he threw stitch after stitch. Their Netflix binges of Dr. Sexy must be paying off. Sam returned from the kitchen with a full tumbler of whisky and a bag of peas. Dean swallowed the whiskey down in several successive gulps before exchanging the glass for the peas. 

"That looks bad." Sam said as Dean opened one side of his shirt to ice the deep purplish bruise on his abdomen. "How's your breathing?" Sam asked with that pinched clinical concern. 

"It hurts when I laugh or breathe too deep, but it's nothing a few days of rest won't fix." 

"There - all set." Cas said as he tied off the last stitch. 

"That's actually really good stitching." Sam tried and failed to hide the surprise in his voice. 

"Thanks." Cas wrapped gauze over the stitches before beginning to apply antiseptic to Dean's other cuts and scrapes. "Can you get him  some Advil and a water? I know that whiskey is quick and probably Dean's pain killer of choice, but it doesn't do anything to help with the swelling and inflammation." 

Dean couldn't help but be slightly turned on by Cas playing doctor right now and watching him boss Sam around was just an added bonus.  He couldn't  hide the humor in his eyes as Sam rolled his and did as he was told. Cas moved closer and made Dean completely shrug out of his flannel shirt that was tattered shreds in some places. Dean had plenty of fantasies of Cas in his bed and taking his shirt off, but in those fantasies, he would have preferred not to have lost so much blood and he would have liked to have had full lung capacity.  

Cas addressed each wound with such urgency and gentleness. He was close to Dean's face as he applied ointment to the cut above Dean's eye. 

"You're getting a black eye." Castiel let himself cradle Dean's head in his hand. His thumb just caressing the outline of the swollen shiner. Their gaze lingered longer than necessary. Dean leaned into the touch hoping for more. Even if it meant he had to be injured to indulge, this touch was all he longed for.  Sam announced his presence by clearing his throat, as he stumbled upon the moment. He suddenly felt like an intruder in the awkward silence - well - awkward for him. 

Cas dropped his hand quickly as if he he'd been scolded. It was Dean's turn to pull a bitch-face. "I think we got it from here." Dean said dismissively. "Thanks Sam."  Sam put down the Advil and  water bottle on the bedside table and promptly exited the room. With all of Dean's injuries they probably wouldn't be getting up to any adult activities that Sam would need earplugs for, but he wanted to have them handy just in case. 

Dean brushed a hand over Cas' arm as if to quiet his frantic first aid work. "Thank you for fixing me all up. I am as good as new." Dean let his hand rest on Cas' arm. It was new and still felt a little forced - but god - he wanted to touch him. 

"You are hardly good as new." Cas' eyes fell again with a look that Dean recognized as shame. "It's my fault that you were injured in the first place and it's my fault I don't have my grace anymore to heal you. I'm just no good for you." 

"hey - hey - don't say that - " Dean's voice was stern - on the verge of anger as he shook at the angel's arm like he was trying to dislodge all the wrongness of his words. "Don't you know - you're the best thing that's ever happened to me?" Their eyes met again briefly and Dean could see the shy smile in Cas' eyes as he fought against his own disbelief. 

"Alright." Cas got to his feet and out of Dean's grasp. "Take two of these." Cas uncapped the bottle of water and handed it to Dean with the Advil. Dean obeyed. "I'll be back in a few hours to wake you up and take two more." 

"Cas - wait." Dean caught Cas' arm as he turned to leave. Dean held on because he knew the moment he let go Cas would be out the door. He could tell Cas was still beating himself up over all of this. Dean had done enough self-loathing to recognize it. "Stay." 

Cas gave him a look and was about to object, but Dean continued. "Look, I know we haven't worked out all this stuff." Dean gestured a hand between them both - insinuating that "this stuff" actually meant us. "I just want you close."  Dean smoothed his thumb over the inside of Cas' wrist silently imploring him for any small gesture of closeness. "Please."

Cas turned his palm over to hold Dean's hand back, his countenance softening as he locked eyes with him.  "I just need a little time to myself Dean, to get my head straight. I'll be back in a few hours." Cas gave a little squeeze before dropping Dean's hand and closing the door behind him. "Promise." 

Dean let him go. He stripped down to his shorts and burrowed under the covers and let himself drift into a state of no longer consciously existing. 

Cas paced in the library and then in the war room before he finally found himself getting a whole pint of ice cream from the fridge and heading to the tv room. All Dean wanted was to have him close, despite all of his failures and he couldn't even give him that. He flipped through the channels mindlessly while he ate ice cream until he was on the verge of a brain freeze. Numbing out with the tv and food seemed to be the coping mechanism of many a human who found themselves frustrated. Cas landed on a re-run of Dr. Sexy. He abandoned his own emotions and let the feelings of the characters on screen fill the void. A mother was trying to calm her terminally sick child. "Let mommy kiss it better....okay." Cas watched as the mother pressed a feather light kiss to her child's forehead. "All better?" the mom asked. Despite the child's illness still persisting, Cas was amazed to watch the child's tears dry up as they put on a brave face. "All better." the child confirmed. 

Cas had never heard that phrase before - 'kiss it better'.  He didn't  have his grace, but this seemed to be something that humans could do. A quick google search confirmed "Comfort a sick or injured person by kissing the sore or injured part of their body as a gesture of removing pain." 

Cas checked the time and realized it was close to the time Dean should have another dosage of pain meds. He clicked off the tv and left the remainder of ice cream on the tv stand to melt. He was going to wake Dean up and kiss it better. Cas turned on the bed side lamp and sat in the open space next to Dean. He didn't want to startle him awake knowing far too well how that could end up. In time, Dean woke up with a slight jolt. 

"Cas?" Dean said with the sleep and searching in his voice. 

"Can you sit up for round 2 of meds?" Cas handed Dean the Advil and water as Dean shifted around on the bed. "How do you feel?" 

"Like I've been tossed around by Bigfoot." 

"Can I try something?" Cas asked not being quite brave enough to meet Dean's eyes. Dean nodded. Cas scooted closer on the bed until he could reach all of Dean comfortably. He cupped Dean's face and bringing him close, he pressed a light kiss to the cut above Dean's eye and then another kiss to the shiner just under it. 

Dean drew in a ragged breath, wincing with the twinge in his abdomen. Moving slow and methodical, Cas brought Dean's forearm up close and pressed another kiss to the skin at the edge of the gauze. Dean's heart began to palpitate as his heart rate climbed. Cas kissed him with such tenderness, but he couldn't help but be a little confused with the sudden influx of affection. "Cas?" Dean licked his dry lips, searching for the right words. "What's - what are you doing?" "It's not working, is it?" Cas couldn't hide the disappointment. "I must not be doing it right." 

"What's not working?" Dean asked, still puzzled. 

"I'm trying to 'kiss it better'. I saw it on tv and the internet confirmed that you can comfort someone by kissing the injured part as a gesture of removing the pain. "Does it not make you feel better? I know it's not as good as my grace - but I just thought-- " 

Dean cut him off finally realizing. "No - No - it's working!" He said emphatically. "I just didn't realize you knew about this very-human remedy." 

"Well you should have told me sooner. I want to help." 

"You are helping, Cas. I told you - just you being here - with me - makes me better." 

Cas allowed the affirmation to wash over him without protest.

"Where else does it hurt?" 

If Dean had been standing up, he would have gone weak in the knees. He couldn't believe his fortune to have the love of such a selfless being. "Here." Dean pointed to a scratch at that top of his bare clavicle. Without hesitation, Cas pressed a kiss there. "...and here." Dean pointed to the bruise on his temple. "...and here..." Dean pointed to his split lip. Cas pressed a lingering, gentle, and off center kiss to Dean's lips. Dean caught him by the back of the neck - holding him close. "What about you, Cas? Where do you hurt?" 

Castiel's brow furrowed in thought. "I didn't get any injuries, Dean. I'm fine." 

"I don't mean physically, Cas." Dean watched as he thought through the meaning. "I know you've been in pain. You've not been feeling like yourself, since you lost the rest of your grace. I know it weighs on your heart." Cas nodded as he began to understand. "I do miss my grace. And I miss my wings. I just hate that I'm not of use to you, like I was before. I don't know who I am without being an angel. I don't know what my purpose is." 

"Can I try to make it better?" 

Cas nodded. 

Dean tugged him closer by his sweater, rubbing the material absentmindedly through his fingers. "Can you take this off for me?" Castiel removed his sweater, rucking up his hair in the process. "You'll always be my angel." Dean said as he ran a hand over Cas' chest. He leaned in kissing along the angel's neck, just under his Adam's apple where he'd seen so many angels lose their grace. Dean wrapped his good arm around Castiel's waist and pulling them flush against each other. "You make me feel so good, Cas." Dean trailed kisses down to Cas' chest right where he imagined the angel's heart to be. "I'm all better." Dean let himself lean into Cas' chest as the angel returned his embrace. "This is all I've wanted for so long." 

"Me too." Cas pressed kisses to the top of Dean's head. " I would like very much to stay right here - with you."  They barely let go of each other as they re-arranged themselves under the covers a few moments later, and comfortably fell asleep.

I hope you enjoyed the fic. I’m always open to feedback. This was inspired by Taylor Swift’s song Cardigan where she says the line “hand under my sweatshirt, baby kiss it better.” Here (x) is a link to the same work on AO3 where you can find some more of my one-shots. 

[leiasfanaccount648]

It’s Hard to Expresso My Feelings For You

Shouto Todoroki x Fem!Reader

Summary: The coming of Winter also means the coming of holiday drinks to put people in the festive spirit. One shop hasn’t released them yet, but that won’t stop a certain employee from trying to make your day.

Warnings/Contains: Coffee Shop!AU, fluff, pining, cursing, Shouto being a clueless yet adorable idiot and Izuku teasing him about it.

Word Count:2788

A/N: I typically have everyone call each other by their first names, but in this I had Shouto and Izuku call each other by their last names cause it just sounded off if they didn’t lmao; also I know espresso is spelled wrong in the title, it’s on purpose haha.

Shouto sighed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as cleaned up the counter top as it was covered in grinded up coffee beans from the night before. He knew that Denki was the one of the people who closed last night and most likely was the one to leave the mess. Of course, it could have been Katsuki for all he knew. Whenever the blond closed, he liked to leave as quickly as possible and if he was in a bad mood, which was often, he could leave some of the minimal stuff left to the openers to take care of.

Shouto glanced at the clock on the wall to check the time, sighing as he realized that he had to unlock the doors to the shop; after all, they opened in 10 minutes. He walked away from behind the counter, keys in hand ready to unlock the door when he heard a voice from the back.

“Hey, Todoroki! Do you know where the eggnog is?”

Shouto unlocked the door quickly before walking to the counter again. He double checked the counter before going to the back where he heard Izuku calling for him. “What’s eggnog?” He stood in the doorway of the fridge as he watched his coworker and friend, who had convinced him to take the job he now has, rummage through the boxes that were shipped to the store last night.

Izuku chuckled to himself as he heard his friend. “It’s a cold drink that people like to have during the holidays.” He sighed, his smile turning into a frown as he finished looking through all the boxes; he stood up. “And it doesn’t look like we didn’t get any in last night’s shipment.”

“Were we supposed to?” Shouto followed his friend back to the front so that they could be ready for when some of their early bird customers came into the shop.

Izuku looked over everything on the counter, even though he knew that his friend had already prepared everything for the morning. He leaned against the countertop. “Well, since it’s officially December, I figured we would. Plus we might even get more business as a result.” He smiled as Shouto nodded, seeming to understand what he meant.

Just then the bell on the shop’s door jingled, signalling that someone had walked in. Izuku glanced at the girl, giving her a grin. “Hi! Welcome to the Academia Coffee House,” he glanced at Shouto. “You take the order and I’ll make it?”

“Yeah, sure.” Shouto nodded and walked over to the register. “What can I get for you today?”

The girl looked at Shouto after glancing at the menu, stepping towards the counter. “Um, do you by any chance have an eggnog drink that I can add a shot of espresso to?”

Shouto’s eyes widened slightly, surprised to hear about this eggnog drink twice already today. “No, we don’t. I’m sorry.”

The girl smiled, shaking her head. “Oh, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” She adjusted the backpack that hung on her shoulder. “In that case,” she glanced at Shouto’s hair, smiling to herself. “Can I just get a medium peppermint mocha with an extra shot, please?”

“Sure.” Shouto clicked the drink on the register’s screen, adding the extra shot of espresso the girl asked for. “Can I get a name?”

“(Y/N).”

Shouto nodded, typing the name into the computer. “Alright, your total is $6.48.”

(Y/N) nodded, handing him a couple bills. After Shouto handed back her change, she placed it all into the tip jar. “Thank you, have a good day.”

“You, too.”

With that, she walked away, picking the table by the unlit fireplace in the corner. She sat down and opened her backpack, pulling out her laptop along with a notebook and pen. Shouto didn’t even realize that he was staring until Izuku nudged his arm.

“Todoroki, can you hand me the whipped cream?”

Shouto blinked out of whatever trance he was in and glanced at his friend before reaching into one of the fridges underneath the countertop. He grabbed the can of whipped cream and handed it to Izuku who happily took it from him.

“You okay there?” Izuku chuckled, grabbing one of the glass mugs and pouring the drink into it. “You appeared to be dozing off there.”

“What do you mean?” Shouto closed the fridge, facing Izuku.

“You were staring at that girl weren’t you?”

Shouto hesitated his answer before responding, making Izuku chuckle again as he put the whipped cream on top of the drink. “She tried ordering one of those eggnog drinks. I was just shocked by it. I didn’t think it was that popular.”

“Whatever you say, Todoroki.” Izuku smiled at his friend before placing the mug onto it’s matching saucer; he placed it on the pick up counter. “Peppermint mocha with an extra shot for (Y/N).”

Upon hearing her name, she glanced up at the counter and stood up as she saw her drink. She walked over, carefully picking it up. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Enjoy!” Izuku nodded, glancing over at Shouto, who was once again watching (Y/N) go back to her table.

“You know it’s not nice to stare, Todoroki.”

“I wasn’t staring.”

A couple days later, Todoroki had another morning shift. He wasn’t opening the shop thankfully, but he was still tired nonetheless; he yawned as he opened the door, quickly making his way behind the counter to clock in as he saw the line of people starting to grow at the register.

“Good morning, Shouto.” Ochako smiled as she saw her coworker, both out of relief that there was more help to make the orders that kept coming in and the fact that she hadn’t seen him in a couple weeks due to the way the shift schedule had been made recently due to the holidays coming up.

“Good morning.” It may have been 11 o’clock, but for some it felt as though it was the crack of dawn. “Where do you need me?”

“Uh,” Ochako glanced at the register, sighing in relief as Eijirou appeared to be taking the orders without a problem. “If you could help me make some of these drinks I’d greatly appreciate it.”

“Sure thing.” Shouto clocked into the system before grabbing an apron and putting it on. He walked over and picked up one of the order receipts, his eyes widened as he read the name at the top as well as the order.

Order # 44  -  TO GO

Name: (Y/N)

Med. Pep. Mocha

ADD ESPRESSO SHOT

Shouto smiled to himself before getting started on the drink, glancing up every now and then to try and spot the girl he had seen just a couple days prior. Eventually he did see her, smiling to himself as he saw her on her phone, not necessarily paying attention to anything else. He didn’t even realize that he muttered the word ‘cute’ under his breath as he continued making her drink.

Soon enough, he grabbed a lid for the to go cup he was holding, putting it on; he walked over to the pick up counter, placing the drink down. “Peppermint mocha with an extra shot for (Y/N).”

As she heard her name, (Y/N) looked up from her phone and walked over to the counter. She grabbed her drink, meeting Shouto’s gaze. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” he smiled as well. “Have a good day.”

“You, too.” (Y/N) glanced down at the name tag on his shirt, smiling a little bit more before she turned around and left the shop.

Shouto took an extra second to watch her leave before walking back over to where the order receipts kept coming on the counter.

Later in the day, once it got less busy in the shop, Shouto walked over to the register. “Hey, Eijirou,” the red head turned around to face him. “Did anyone ask you about an eggnog drink?”

Eijirou thought back to earlier in the day, eventually nodding. “Yeah, there was. Why do you ask?”

Shouto shrugged, trying not to seem excited or anything but nonchalant. “Midoriya brought up how we may end up making those and someone asked about it the other day. I didn’t know if that was happening any time soon.”

Eijirou shrugged. “I don’t know either. Last I heard we’re not doing anything special for the holidays.”

Shouto nodded, leaning back on the counter with his arms crossed. He thought back to that (Y/N) girl who had come in twice now asking about the drink. He didn’t know why she was on his mind now, but he wasn’t particularly mad about it; just confused. He didn’t even know her besides her name and the drink she keeps wanting to order in their shop.

~     ~     ~

“You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?”

“What? Who?”

“That (Y/N) girl who’s been coming in every now and then.”

Shouto held back a sigh from Izuku’s words, not wanting to admit to his friend that he was right about his assumptions. Instead of replying, he simply kept scrolling through his phone while leaning against the counter.

It had been almost 2 weeks since (Y/N) had first come into the store asking if the shop was selling an eggnog drink, and every time, since that drink wasn’t available, she would order a peppermint mocha with an extra shot of espresso. Shouto had even seen her and taken her order so much that the two even knew each other by name; however, Shouto, for some reason unknown to him, wanted to try and make her drink that she’d been asking for for nearly 2 weeks.

“I’ll take your silence as a yes then.” Izuku laughed, starting to make himself a drink. They were on the closing shift, so it wasn’t as busy, and it was just the two of them working since Mina called in saying that she was sick.

“I’m not thinking about (Y/N).”

Izuku glanced over Shouto’s shoulder as he reached to grab the half and half cream beside him; he held back a smirk. “Then why are you googling how to make eggnog from scratch?”

Shouto immediately closed his phone, shoving it in his pocket and crossing his arms while his cheeks tinted the slightest shade of pink. “I am not.” “Whatever you say, Todoroki.” He laughed softly, finishing making his drink for himself. He took a sip before speaking up again. “You should try getting her phone number. She appears to be into you as well.”

Shouto glanced to the side, his shoulders appearing to lose their tension. “You really think so?”

“Yeah. Why not go for it, you know?” Izuku took another sip of his drink before glancing over at the door as it opened. He smiled to himself. “Actually, why don’t you go ahead and try making the drink she wants?” He then placed his drink down on the countertop before walking over to the register where (Y/N) stood waiting patiently.

“Hi (Y/N)! How are you this evening?”

“Pretty good, thank you. How about you, Izuku?”

Shouto felt his stomach turn with nerves as he saw (Y/N). He glanced at the floor before pulling his phone back out from his pocket, unlocking it to see the eggnog recipe he had been looking at. He took a deep breath as he heard (Y/N) question of whether or not they had an eggnog holiday drink, only for Izuku to politely say no, despite there being a sparkle in his eyes that said otherwise.

Shouto took a deep breath before gathering the ingredients he needed in order to make the drink. He heard (Y/N) walk away from the counter, standing off to the side by the counter. He tried not to think about the fact that she was possible watching him make her drink.

After about 15 minutes, (Y/N) grew confused as to why her drink was taking so long considering the fact that no one else had come into the store and Shouto was the one making her drink. She was about to say something when she caught a whiff of a familiar scent, but not one she had smelled in the store before.

“Is that-”

“Eggnog? Yep.” Shouto spoke up as he heard her, glancing over and smiling at her as he began pouring said drink into a glass mug. “Do you still want the espresso in it?”

“Yes, please.”

Shouto’s smile grew as he heard the excitement in her voice. He then readied the shot of espresso. “Whipped cream and cinnamon?”

“Please.” (Y/N) nodded, touched at the fact that the man was taking the time to make her a drink from scratch. She watched as Shouto added the espresso shot before the whipped cream and cinnamon. “Thank you so much, Shouto.”

“Well, I figured you’ve been getting tired of the peppermint mocha.” Shouto set the mug atop the saucer, gently pushing it toward (Y/N) on the counter.

“Well it’s much appreciated.” (Y/N) laughed softly before picking up the mug carefully since it was still pretty hot. She took a sip, her eyes widening.

“Is it good?” Shouto felt his heart rate pick up as he hoped that she liked it; he let out the breath he was holding as he watched her nod with a bright smile on her face.

“It’s delicious! Did you guys finally get eggnog in stock?”

Shouto shook his head, looking off to the side while one hand held the back of his neck. “No, um, I actually made it from scratch,” he paused, not sure what else to say. “You kept asking us for it, and I figured I could try and make it for you.”

(Y/N) nodded, placing the mug back on the sauce before picking it up again. “Still, it means a lot. Thank you.” She smiled and walked over to her usual table by the fireplace, which was lit today.

In the last hour of his shift, Shouto couldn’t stop himself from smiling and glancing over at (Y/N). Eventually he and Izuku had to start closing up the shop. Shouto started turning off and cleaning the machines while Izuku began wiping down the tables. When she saw the green haired man, (Y/N) began putting away her laptop. “Thank you again for the eggnog espresso. It was delicious. You guys should add it to your menu if you can.”

“We just might.” Izuku glanced over at Shouto as he walked into the back room; he looked back over at (Y/N). “Todoroki typically doesn’t know how to tell people that he cares about them, you’re pretty special, you know that?”

(Y/N) glanced over at Shouto as he walked back to the front, smiling as he met her gaze. “Yeah. I could tell that he’s kinda shy in a way.” She finished putting away her things in her backpack before walking over to the counter. “Shouto?”

The two toned hair man looked up, wondering what she could possibly ask of him. “Yeah? What is it?”

“I know this may seem a bit forward, but would it be possible for me to get your number?”

Shouto stared at her for a second, glancing at Izuku who stood a couple feet behind her and nodding enthusiastically; he nodded as well. “Sure.”

Grabbing a piece of receipt paper and a pen, Shouto wrote down his number before handing it (Y/N). “I apologize for my handwriting.”

“It’s alright. I can read it just fine.” (Y/N) laughed softly, trying not to show her enthusiasm too much. “I’ll text you later tonight, okay?”

Shouto nodded, still surprised at the fact that (Y/N) also appeared to also take an interest in him. With that, (Y/N) said goodbye to him and Izuku before leaving the shop, the smile on her face making it evident that she was unbelievably happy.

Izuku walked over to his friend, clearly happy as well. “Todoroki, you’ve got a date!”

“A date?” Shouto eyed him, confused. After all, he never saw his parents go on dates, and whenever he heard about them from his friends, they always appeared to be them physically going out with someone. “But (Y/N) didn’t ask to take me out somewhere.”

Izuku laughed, shaking his head. “No, no, I mean that she wants to take you out with you as your date.” He paused, trying to study Shouto’s reaction. “She wants to get to know you better Todoroki.”

Shouto looked back at the shop’s windows, part of him hoping that (Y/N) would be there; he smiled to himself, nodding at Izuku’s statement. “I guess you’re right.”

tags: @briswriting​

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[justanotherwriter-fangirl]

A Reason To Stay (W. H.)

Word Count:  1,453 words.

Warnings: I don’t think so...

Request: Hi there, can I get a Will Halstead imagine, please? Like when Will had just come home from New York and was offered a job at the ED and he's late on his first day as he wasn't taking it seriously and was thinking of just going back to NY but when he step foot into Med, he caught sight of the reader, the only girl he has ever loved but screwed things up with and suddenly he found his reason to stay. Thank you x

A/N: Hi!!! First of all I feel like I need to say that I think I’ve never struggle so much with a story before so sorry in advance if it kinda sucks, with that being said this story took me so long because I couldn’t figure out exactly what I wanted to do so I ended up kinda sticking to the original plot presented in the “I Am The Apocalypse” episode where he’s introduced. :/ Anyway, I hope you like it and thanks so much for reading💕

Gif obtained from Google. All credits to its owner.

Thanks for reading <3

________________________

He knew it had been a bad idea going out to have some drinks the night before his first day on a new job, the naked girl next to her who kept him awake most of the night proof enough of his mistake but truth to be told it wasn’t like he was too bothered about it either, it was only a job, a job he had accepted just for his brother Jay. 

The water in the shower was already running cold but he stayed there thinking about his life, the reason he was now in Chicago and everything he has left behind in New York, he couldn't believe how fast and how much his life had changed and how he truly wasn't feeling excited about his new life, his purpose lost behind, yeah. of course this new job could be a great thing but honestly nothing was better than being a plastic surgeon in New York, that was action. Well, it didn’t matter, he wasn’t planning on staying much longer.

As he got out of the bathroom a couple minutes later he realized he was a bit late and he felt a little guilty about it but not enough to rush out the door, still taking his time to dress, prepare his bag and go to the kitchen to have some breakfast.

Stepping outside his room he came face to face with the girl from last night, a quick good morning kiss before she was lost once again in his bedroom.

Entering the kitchen he was faced with Jay pouring himself a cup of coffee, the space was tight but this was only temporary, in a couple days he would be back at New York and he would have his old place back.

“When do you have to be at work?” Jay asked.

“Ten minutes ago?” he answered faking to look at his watch.

“It’s your first day”

“Uh, first and last, as it turns out” he added nonchalantly while looking for some fresh milk in the refrigerator “Almond milk? You don’t have any regular milk in here?”

“You’re joking” said Jay with a blank face, making him turn around.

“No, I got to get back” he said, taking the milk out to pour some in his flask to add coffee then.

“To what? I thought the partners kicked you out of the practice”

“They did, but, now, this may come as a shock to you, there are other practices in New York City” Will answered with a bit of humor, Jay really seemed to not get it at all.

“Hey, how ‘bout, for once, you see something all the way through” Jay said in the same tone as him.

“Wow, you sound like the old man” he couldn’t stop himself from saying it, 

“There it is” Jay sentenced not surprised at all, this wasn't new “I mean, that is why you’re blowing back out of town, right?”

“What do you care?” Will finally let out, he had no right to tell him anything.

“Just give it a couple weeks, at least” Jay said now defeated while following him out the kitchen as Will kept taking his things to get going. “You never know” 

“I got to go” he finished before watching his clock again and leaving out the door.

The way to the hospital wasn’t long but it did nothing to keep him from repeating the conversation over and over again in his head, if he didn’t get a headache from the night before, he definitely had one now. Why couldn’t Jay just let him go? Half of his life he had been away, what was the big problem now?

Stepping into the break room letting out a frustrated sigh he realized he wasn’t the only one there, some clattering noise coming from behind the fridge.

“When I took this job I didn’t know we did our own maintenance work” he said stepping closer to see who was it. A woman in her blue uniform working on the inside panel the fridge had at the bottom.

“I have a theory, Goodwin likes broken appliances ‘cause it means we have to spend more money at the vending machines” he heard muffled from his position but the voice had a familiar sound to it though he couldn’t figure where he had heard it before, a memory trying to make its way to the surface of his mind.

“The great vending machine conspiracy. You could get published in JAMA with that” he said playing along when suddenly a buzzing let them know the fridge was back to life. “Nice work” he added coming to the front to open the door and check it was actually working.

That’s when your form finally emerged from behind the fridge, now face to face you recognized each other, a million memories flashing to both your minds of your previous college romance, the most intense and passionate relationship either of you had ever had, never being able to feel the same ever again after that.

“Will?”

“(Y/N)?”

You both said in unison with the same shocked expression in both your faces but you were quicker to recover.

“What are you doing here? The last thing I knew about you was that you were leaving to Sudan” you questioned trying to put on a strong front and keep your feelings hidden, the pain of your break up coming back to surface after years of him being gone but you couldn’t stop yourself from asking, you needed to know if the reason he left you behind for had been at least worth it.

“Yes, I went to Sudan and worked there as a doctor, it was amazing but after a while I came back, well, not here but to New York, I’ve been living there since and I spent some time working as a plastic surgeon but it doesn’t matter, tell me about you, please, I haven’t see you in years” he said nostalgic, the realization of how much he had missed you downing in on him.

You two had dated during your time in college, your connection was almost instant and before you knew it you both were dating. the two of you inseparable for years until one day he came to your place with a box full of your stuff in his hands, he was leaving, not only you but the country too.

He said he needed something more, that he couldn’t stay stuck in Chicago and it was his time to finally be free and, of course, that included being free from a long distance relationship that eventually would be doomed to end, leaving you behind with so much emotions to deal with, anger, frustration, pain and hope because despite it all you loved him and you only wished the best for him, hoping for him to found the happiness he was looking for.

“Well it’s going to sound so boring in comparison but, as you can already tell, I stayed here, went straight from college to a hospital and I’ve been working my ass off to become a cardiothoracic surgeon, I’m almost there now” you said looking into his eyes, a shy smile coming to your face knowing he had been happy all these years like you had hoped. 

“Hey, it’s not boring, this is what you always wanted, I’m proud of you, you followed your dream and now you’re living it” he said smiling softly at you, the same smile you had fallen in love so many years ago. Stepping forward he reached out to caress your cheek, the simple gesture still sending electroshocking pulses. 

Clearing your throat you took a step back, his hand falling from your face.

“Yeah, I guess, it’s been good, anyway, I’m glad to see you again, as it seems we’re coworkers now and I’d love to keep catching up but I need to go, I have a patient that needs me” you said quickly before turning around and leaving, he couldn’t know how much his presence still affected you, he had left you behind, he couldn’t just like that came back into your life and pretend everything was alright or like it had been before because it wasn’t, you were different now and so was he, you needed to get to know eachother again before anything could happen again between you two, even if it was only a friendship.

As he saw you exiting the door only a thought came to his head, he now had his reason to stay in Chicago, you, he was going to get you back because there was no way he was willing to let go again of the only woman he ever loved.

_______________________

Masterlist

[procrastinatorimagines]

Buy You A Drink?

Fandom: One Chicago / Chicago PD

Pairing/s: Jay Halstead x Reader

Warning/s: drug mention, alcohol mention, trafficking mention

Word Count: 1,737

Request: i wanted one with Jay halstead, sn's sister works with intelligence and calls her to translate a guy who only speaks portuguese - she is also a detective -. Then they go to drink at molly's and she ends up with jay

Summary: Y/N gets called in from Narcotics to help Intelligence question a suspect in a trafficking case

Y/S/N - Your Sister’s Name

as will be apparent if you read this, I used google translate in places, sorry!

You’d been working Narcotics a few years when your sister got promoted to Intelligence; you’d heard a lot of stories about the unit, and it’s Sergeant, Hank Voight, but your sister was happy, so you were happy for her. She’d been on the job a few months now, but you were yet to actually meet any of her team, or her partner even, Detective Halstead you thought his name was; you’d been in and out of an undercover drug bust and hadn’t really found the time to catch up.

Mindlessly chewing on the pen you were holding you flipped through your paperwork; the bigger the case the bigger the case load, you thought bitterly, months of work had finally paid off but that now meant piles and piles of papers and forms to sort through. The ringing of your phone in your pocket was a welcome distraction and you checked to see Y/S/N calling, if it was during shift it must be important so you answered straight away.

“Hey Y/S/N, what’s up? Is everything okay?” You asked, moving away from your desk to talk in the hall.

“Hey Y/N, sorry to call at work, I know you’re busy but we’re working a time sensitive case over here and I could use your help,” she said hopefully.

“Well as much as I’m enjoying my endless paperwork I guess I could help, what do you need?” You joked.

“The sacrifices we make,” Y/S/N laughed a little but it sounded strained, something serious was going on. “We’re tracking some missing kids potentially being trafficked, got a suspect in holding who only speaks Portuguese, or claims to anyway, but the usual translator is on holiday and we need to find these kids. Can you get down to the 21st? I can have Sergeant Platt call your Lieutenant so they know you’re working with us today?”

“Yeah of course, absolutely, I’ll just let my partner know I’m heading out, be there as soon as I can.” You promised, hanging up and grabbing your coat. You’d been working narcotics long enough to understand why people dealt drugs, but people? Kids? That was something you’d never understand, and you were glad of it.

It didn’t take you long to get to the 21st, and the desk Sergeant buzzed you up almost as soon as you told her your name, your sister waiting at the top of the stairs as you headed up. “Hey glad you could make it,” she hugged you quickly, leading you to where you could put your coat and gun before heading into interrogation. 

“Of course, sounds like a tough case.” You followed her to where her Sergeant and partner were waiting in the viewing room. 

“First break we catch and the guy doesn’t, or won’t talk English,” the younger of the two said, offering a hand, “I’m Jay by the way, Jay Halstead, I’m Y/S/N’s partner, she’s told me some stories about you,” he grinned.

“All lies, trust me,” you laughed, turning to the older of the two men. “Detective Y/N Y/L/N.” You offered your hand.

“Sergeant Hank Voight, spoke to your Lieutenant just before you got here, impressive work on the cartel operation, I hear you’re being commended for it.” He shook your hand and you shot a glance at your sister.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t say anything,” she held her hands up mockingly and you shook your head.

“Glad to have you on board, I need to get back and check with the rest of the unit, they’re patrolling the area around where we picked up this scum bag but Jay’ll fill you in.” He nodded to you and left.

“What we got?” You turned to Jay.

“Okay so this guy-” you looked to the man sat in the interrogation room, “-is Carlito Santana, 42 years old, Portuguese national on an expired work visa to the US, no priors but he is living with a known sex offender that we like more for this, unfortunately he’s in the wind and Carlito here’s our only lead.” You nodded, watching the man in the other room, he almost looked like he was praying.

“I’ll talk to him, see what he knows.” You said and your sister squeezed your arm in thanks. 

“Need company?” She offered but you shook your head.

“This guy looks on edge, maybe it’s better if I go in alone, more friendly and less threatening, I should be able to get him talking,” you said and Jay handed you a file.

“This might be good incentive, turns out his brother is also in the country, got a wife and two kids, his visa’s expired too,” Jay started.

“Just one phone call from us and he’s on the next flight back home,” you finished for him, thanking him and heading inside. 

“Hey, how’re you doing?” You tried in English, he look up when he saw you, watching you with confusion as you took your seat opposite him, laying the file out closed next to you on the table as a last resort. “Ola? Voce prefere Portugues?” You tried and he nodded, apparently he did just speak Portuguese.

“Por que estou aqui?” He asked, wanting to know why he’d been brought in. You explained the best you could about the case, making sure to tell him he wasn’t in any trouble in case he wised up and asked for a lawyer, that was time wasted that these kids didn’t have.

He claimed to not know anything abou the kids, and you believed him, he looked more scared than guilty, and you figured he’d been more worried that you brought him in about his expired visa. He told you what he knew about his roommate, he’d left late the previous night and hadn’t returned, and also told you about a storage unit he thought the other man rented. He kept swearing that he had know idea about any of this, or that the other man was registered, but the room was cheap and he hadn’t asked for any papers, so he hadn’t pried. 

You thanked him and left. You met Jay and Y/S/N out in the hallway and relayed the information. “Where is this storage unit? Did he know?” Y/S/N asked.

“Somewhere down by the water, he thinks, the guy had a bunch of boat gear in his car apparently, I’m thinking maybe a boat house? Not very busy, easy storage and access to an escape route.” You suggested and the others agreed.

“Or a way to smuggle the kids out of the city,” Jay said what the two of you were thinking.

“I’ll tell Voight, see if he’s renting in his own name, or if he owns a boat,” Y/S/N said, patting your arm in thanks and heading back into the main room.

“Good job,” Jay said with a smile, “even if we’d got that, we would have wasted valuable time,”

“You say that like it’s not too late already,” you said grimly and Jay shook his head.

“It’s not over til its over, we’ll find them,” he reassured you, “I think you’re needed back at your district, but we’ll let you know alright, we’ve got this, trust me.” You hesitated before reluctantly heading for the door, wishing you could go down there yourself but you knew your boss probably didn’t like letting you go for this long.

“Hey,” Jay called and you turned back, “have you been to Molly’s yet?” You shook your head, a confused look on your face. “It’s a bar we all go to, Y/S/N included, you really helped us out here, least I can do is buy you a drink to say thanks.” You started to reply but a text message cut you off, “it’s Y/S/N, we’ve got a hit on a boat house rented by our suspects brother not too far from where the kids were taken, we’re moving out now.” He looked apologetic that you couldn’t come.

“Get them back,” you said, “but be careful, I fully expect that drink later.” 

“Count on it.” You both grinned and headed out.

_____________

You found your way to Molly’s easily enough, you’re hands were sore from all the paperwork you’d had to do when you got back to your own district, but as soon as you’d gotten word from your sister about the successful raid you’d been newly motivated to power through it. Apparently Jay’s brother is a doctor at Med and he confirmed that the kids they recovered were going to be okay, but they were being kept overnight for observations just to be safe. 

So all in all you’d had a pretty good day, though you felt bad for Carlito, who was in the process of getting deported, but it was better than going to jail. 

You saw your sister as soon as you entered, she was sat by the bar with Jay chatting to an older man behind the bar, she waved you over as you came in. “Hey Y/N!” She smiled, “glad you could make it, thanks again for your help today.”

“Glad I could help,” you took a seat. 

“Ah, so this is the sister I’ve been hearing about,” the man behind the bar said, “I’m Christopher Herrmann, I work over at Firehouse 51, nice to finally put a face to the name, and the stories.” You narrowed your eyes at your sister who quickly got up from her chair.

“Ooh look at that, Nat’s here, I’m gonna go say hey,” she grabbed her drink and look her leave, grinning at you as you glared back at her.

Jay laughed and took a sip of his beer. “What stories has by dear sister been telling exactly?” You asked suspisciously.

“Nothing too bad,” he said, “I bet you’ve got better ones of her though,”

“Oh definitely,” you said wickedly, “do you want to hear about the swan incident or the the jet ski incident?”

“Both,” Jay laughed, moving closer to take the seat your sister left between the two of you. “Drink? It’s the least you deserve for helping us out today.” He offered.

“Sure,” you said, taking off your jacket and settling in. Molly’s was nice, Y/S/N’s friends seemed nice, and Jay definitely seemed... very nice. As you got your drink and started talking to Jay you cast a glance at your sister, hoping she wouldn’t be too annoyed if you made a move on her partner.

[insomniac-dot-ink]

Breadcrumbs

It was Saturday night so you knew it wasn’t going to be a good time. I mean, someone would probably be having a good time, but that was usually the problem. I work as an EMT downtown and a “good time” didn’t always turn out right for everyone. Weekends in particular often saw a good number of drunken brawls, passed out Freshmen on lawns, people accidentally locked out of their homes and close to frostbite, and all sorts of mild concussions.

I had been dreading this particular day for the entire week. Madison is a college town, meaning that most of the population is young adults trying to get a degree in psychology or international relations or getting alcohol poisoning by the age of 22. It also meant that when things happened at the college, the rest of the city felt it.

It was the weekend after finals and we felt it. The night before had seen a tiny girl in a rainbow shirt puking in the ambulance three times (and on me) and a pre-law student having a nervous breakdown over their test results while I asked them over and over what they had taken. And at the very end of my shift around 3 am a frat boy tried to punch me and then cried, asked to call his mom, and fell asleep all in the span of ten minutes.

I was actually one of those students just a few years earlier with the same panic and sleep-deprived wildness in me. I tried my best to help with sutures and calming words and a very large puke bag. “Doctor” had been the dream job since I was old enough to google youtube videos of live-surgeries, but getting to “Dr. Braginsky” was a thing far in the future.

For now, it was just me and my crew and the frigid streets.

It was the regular gang that night for the Ford pick-up rig: Mary Keynes who was at least forty but drove like hell and texted her kids every few hours. She had been there longer than any of us and often regaled us with the story of how she left her husband and decided to make several “life changes.” Driving an ambulance was one of those changes.

And then there was the other paramedic on duty: Jimmy Newark. He wasn’t even that interested in medicine as far as I knew and worked as an accountant during the day. He told us he just wanted something to fill his nights and was a slow-talking calm man with a sad-dog look about him, like he had been kicked a few too many times as a puppy. I also knew that I only ever saw him really come alive was when he was staunching a head wound or trying to resuscitate an old lady from heart failure.

It seemed he got some weird thrill from it, but he was good at his job so I never said anything.

It was me, Mary, and Jimmy. We were pretty chummy at that point and worked well together and the first few hours flew by.

We picked up a kid with a badly sprained ankle after he took a spill on some black ice and visited two seniors who had taken some party drug that had them picking at invisible scabs and babbling. I didn’t think anything of it.

It was a ten hour shift and we were four hours in. Downtown was all lights and red faces and bad music coming from somewhere. I had my flash cards out. I had been studying for the MCAT for almost a year and a half by that point and being an EMT was good practice, but it wasn't a replacement for the actual book knowledge med school would take. And I kept getting nervous.

My hands are steady and there was no end to my fascination with the weird things of the human body, but thinking about testing into competitive schools like Johns Hopkins always got me a little stomach sick. I was getting that nervous sick feeling thinking about applications when we got the call.

It came in over the radio and Mary took it right away. I didn’t hear most of the conversation since I was absorbed in my own thoughts and figured it was something like a college student slipping on a beer bottle. But it was different.

“Right, Sherman Avenue.” We made a quick U-turn and turned on our lights just as I stuffed my flashcards away into a separate compartment as to not get in the way. “Good Samaritan call-in.” Mary said over her shoulder, “an injured man off Sherman avenue. Near the park.” Jimmy leaned forward, “Cuts? Broken bones?” “Didn’t say,” Mary said and made a sharp right turn. “He said it might be a homeless guy. That he just looked bad.” “Okay,” I said and mentally prepared myself for any of the “worst” possibilities. There was a relatively small homeless population in Madison, but they were the most vulnerable to violence and the worst of the Wisconsin winter.

We made it in good time to Warner Park and I looked up just in time to see the slate grey skies starting to release little tiny puffs of snow. “Oh great,” Jimmy sighed and looked up with me. “I left one my house windows open.” 

I rolled my eyes and we pulled up to Sherman Avenue with a Goodwill across the street and dark stretches of park on the other. I sighed, “I don’t suppose there was a better tip-off for where this person actually is?” Mary stopped the engine. “Better get out and give it a quick sweep.” We usually only spend a little while looking for an injured person on busy nights like this, but Jimmy pointed first.

“There,” he said and jerked a finger up. “By the light.” There was an upright figure caught in the pure white light of the street lamp on the sidewalk and standing perfectly still. “Is he… hurt?” I asked and squinted and Jimmy was already out of the car. “What are you talking about?” He pinched his gloves on and was running, I got my own gloves on and ducked after him.

“Don’t you want the stretcher?” Mary asked, but I didn’t pause. The man looked like he was standing just fine by himself.

Snowflakes kissed my cheeks softly and I followed Jimmy’s hurried steps toward the figure. “Hold on sir! We’re coming.”

My heart was pounding and I didn’t know why. It beat it in my ears with a hot sticky pulse and my breathing was feverish and far too fast for our light jog. I blinked once, twice, and then the man was farther away. Standing in the light of the next street lamp.

“Wait,” I didn’t like this. I turned to reach for Jimmy, but there was only air besides me. I slowed and looked left and right, “Jimmy?”

Soft snow landed on the tip of my nose and there was a red and visceral scent on the breeze. I took a deep breath of it and recognized the rusty hardened stench of old blood. The type that’s been left there to turn to copper and old musty globs.

I tensed from head to foot and when I looked down there were several tiny drops of blood spattering across the sidewalk. Leading me forward. They were wet and must have been what gave the air a putrid smell.

“Jimmy?” I looked around again, but the street was empty as the wind whipped through the branches of the park trees nearby. I turned to get away from this new eerie twilight feeling.

I took a step and the toe of my shoe dipped into a small puddle of blood. I jumped back, I wasn’t a stranger to blood but it looked darker than normal and seemed to sit...wrong. It was too thick and too shiny in the light.

I stood there as if transfixed, and a soft moan crawled through the space. It matched the wind itself and crooned almost sweetly. I jerked my head up and there was the figure again.

He was standing this time inside the park itself by a bench and tall beech tree. I scanned the area around for Jimmy one more time and then figured maybe he got ahead of me. The moan weaved through the air and I reached out a hand toward it.

“Sir?” The smell of cooking meat and winter chill filled my mouth and I covered my nose with my sleeve. The man stood next to the bench, unmoving, and I tried to be rational, there’s blood. Someone’s hurt. Do your job.

I walked quickly on autopilot to get closer to the stranger. Nothing about him came into sharper focus: he was still a faded silhouette among long shadows. I did notice however there was a light I hadn’t seen before.

It was so faint you might be able to convince yourself it wasn’t there, but it burnt pale and tinted blue around his form. An outline a very determined child might have painted around someone.

I sucked in a deep breath and swallowed down the brackish scent once more as I drew closer to him. Spots of blood appeared as shiny pools on the ground. The moan was even softer now and barely audible.

“I’m here to help.” I heard myself say as I indicated the medical insignia on my jacket. The wind slapped me in the face and I winced.

I looked up and there was no one by the bench, but my gaze was driven deeper into the wooded park by a gentle light. And the figure.

I shivered and knew I needed to turn back, I needed it like water or air or a hug after a long day. But there was this smooth line of blood slithering toward him and I was walking. I tried to make it make sense- I couldn’t just leave the fellow and surely once I had him I could drag him back toward the ambulance and find Jimmy again.

I walked past the park bench and past the leafless trees and some of the slush left over from a storm a few days earlier. The snowflakes caressed my cheeks and I squinted ahead.

The moan was musical at this point and I almost started swaying along to it. I didn’t, but I found that I was still walking and walking.

The park passed by and my eyes were filled with the soft glowing blue light and the deep melodic groan that led me toward the earthy blood scent and faded outline.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away and barely noticed as the landscape opened up. The trees fell away and the wind died down and all I was left with was the smooth ground and shiftless dull winter skies. I was however aware of the crack. There was a crackling, electric sound alike to fireworks or eggshells being crunched on the floor.

The moan fell away altogether and it was quiet with only the crackling of the ground and the lovely blue light that seemed to seep inside me. A strange beckoning feeling followed. “Sir,” I whispered as I finally, finally, reached the outline, “You’re injured…”

That’s all I got out before the thing turned around and something stood before me. Featureless, blank skin and something in the middle of its face like a tearing, violent slash that you might describe as a smile. No eyes, no nose, but a jagged smile that split the face in two with the same sick crackling sound as the ground. Something shifted under me.

I gasped and looked down to see that I had stepped out onto the park lake and that’s when the utter cold swallowed me whole.

Cold and cold and freezing water engulfed my head and my vision went white. I tried to pry my eyes open, but the water was black and thick and there was only the barest hint of shine ahead. A shine like long teeth and something looming and huge just beyond me.

“Ah!” A yell like a battle cry erupted from above and I was being wrenched out of the water just as quickly as I had fallen into it.

I sputtered for air above ground.

“Don’t follow the glowing man.” A hoarse voice wheezed into my ear like a chant over and over. “Never follow the glowing man.” I passed out in a twinkling haze of shaking and murmuring.

----------------------

I was saved by a homeless man sleeping on one of the park benches by the lake. No one on my shift remembered me leaving or where I went. All I knew was that I had followed something thoughtlessly out onto the Warner Park lake and fell in.

I asked a nurse, once, if she thought there was something in that lake, but she just gave me a funny look and said that the lake wasn’t deep enough to house much wildlife. I shut up after that.

In the years that followed I never stopped trying to help people, but sometimes I hesitated now. When it was dark, hard to see, and drops of blood littered the ground. I stopped and listened for melodic moaning in the distance.

I didn’t see anything like it again, but working the ambulance wasn’t the same. I looked around corners too much and jumped too easily at different sounds. I took the MCAT as quickly as I could and things become easier in well-lit fluorescent rooms. 

I do stop whenever I can though and give out blankets to anyone sleeping on the street and avidly tell college students and locals to avoid the lakes at night. And not to follow any trails of blood that lead you onward and onward into the dark.

---------------------

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[florenceandthemachine]

talk stackson to me about stiles getting a piercing (or piercings) of your choice while they’re in college and them driving jackson out of his fucking mind. bonus points if jackson goes with him to get his next one and they end up getting matching tattoos instead.

So, here's the thing. Jackson doesn’t even notice the first piercing that Stiles gets for like, a week. 

After suffering through what feels like a month of insomnia and developing what feels like a crippling tolerance of NyQuil, Stiles finally breaks down and looks to alternative sources of sleep aids. He tries acupuncture, he tries massage, he tries aromatherapy. Nothing works. 

He reads about the benefits of a daith piercing online, and while he has learned to take everything on the internet with a grain of salt, he’s beyond the point of desperate. He googles the nearest tattoo and piercing shop, grabs his keys, and walks in about twenty minutes before there set to close.

He looks a mess. He has rings under his eyes, his clothes are crumpled, but the artist in the shop doesn’t even bat an eye when he says he needs a “daith piercing, like, yesterday.”

He’s in and out in less than ten minutes. Apparently, after a few days without sleep, Stiles no longer has an aversion to needles. Not when the needles come with the sweet promise of getting knocked the fuck out. 

He gets home after grabbing one of Kira’s cards (because she seems like a cool person in general), takes off his pants, flops onto the couch...

...and sleeps for thirty nine hours. 

(Jackson, bless him, comes home from work, sees Stiles sleeping, and silently cheers. He’s two years into his pre-med program at this point, so he knows how dangerous insomnia can be—he just takes Stiles vitals every six hours and lets him sleep.)

So, no. Jackson doesn’t notice Stiles first piercing right away, and when he does, it’s with hardly a second thought (if it helps Stiles sleep, why would he be mad about it?). It’s a tiny, barely there hoop of surgical steel, almost buried in his ear—why the hell would he notice it immediately?

Stiles second piercing, though, that Jackson notices. Partially because Stiles calls Jackson drunk and crying about it. 

Stiles has just finished one of the most grueling midterm seasons of his life, and he demands a party. Scott, the eternal bro that he is, agrees immediately. Stiles sends out a mass text to everyone in his phone, kisses Jackson good luck on his last midterm, and immediately heads to the liquor store.

Jackson finishes his anatomy and physiology midterm (at seven PM on a Friday, because his instructor is a sadist) in less than two hours, and takes no small comfort in the warmth radiating through his body when he turns on his phone and sees supportive text message pouring in from Stiles, even as they progressively get less coherent as Stiles undoubtedly gets more imbibed.

He’s about to call the idiot love of his life when his phone goes off, Stiles having beat him to the punch. He’s still grinning as he puts the phone to his ear. 

“Hey baby, I just finished up. I can be there in fifteen—”

“JACKSON! I LOVE YOU.”

Jackson beams.

“JACKSON KIRA BROKE MY FACE.”

Jackson... beams significantly less. He has to tell himself that of course it isn’t anything even remotely close to real danger, but he has never quite been okay with the idea of any part of Stiles being remotely hurt, or as drunk Stiles would call it, “broken”.

“Stilinski, I’ll be there in ten minutes. You’d better be with all of your pieces or I’m going to kill Scott.”

Stiles gasps and must drop his phone, because his voice is higher pitched but further away as he wails. 

“OH NO HE CALLED ME STILINSKI I’M GONNA BE IN TROUBLEEEEE—”

The line cuts off, and Jackson makes it to Scotts apartment in eight minutes. 

When he gets there, the party is in full swing; apparently the mass text that Stiles sent out included Kira, his one-time piercing compatriot, who now had a line of people wrapped around the hallway to get a needle stuck through some part of their body. Kira was taking payment in shots. This did not bode well. 

Stiles found him before he could even make sense of the situation—seriously, how did Scott and Stiles even know this many people?—and their earlier phone call must have been forgotten, because Stiles all but jumped into Jackson’s arms, somehow stumbling over himself while managing to avoid spilling a drop of his drink (which honestly smelled like gasoline. Stiles never was one to waste time mixing drinks).

“Hi baby! You look so good in your scrubs! How was your exam! Did you dish—dith—disvvhh... take apart any bodies?” he fires, speech slurred, but Jackson is too busy making sure that he’s okay to take stock of Stiles mental state. He... appears fine, which is all the more concerning. 

“Stiles.”

“You’re so smart, you know that? I can’t wait for you to be some big shot doctor—”

“Stiles.”

“—and you’ll have an office! And you’ll help so many people! And—”

“Stiles, what the fuck happened with Kira?”

Jackson gets all the answer he needs as Stiles mouth snaps shut, his eyes wide and fearful, and Jackson has to bite down on his own tongue to curb his temper as he reaches to hold Stiles’ face.

“You promise you won’t be mad?”

Jackson absolutely cannot fucking promise that, not if Kira hurt Stiles, not if—

“Kira is a kitsune.”

Jackson’s mind stumbled, doing mental gymnastics trying to catch up with the turn that the conversation had taken.

“And she has magic powers. And I think Scott likes her. And she knows I love you. And... she gave me a present."

Jackson is more lost than ever before, and he pretends not to be shocked stiff when Stiles tilts his head, pulling Jackson’s thumb between his lips, lavishing the digit with his tongue, and—

and Jackson feels something... new, something that definitely wasn’t there before, and any anger, irritation, or doubt he felt in his stomach was banished when Stiles released the digit. His tongue followed soon after, and sure enough, there was a smooth, narrow bar placed dead center in Stiles pretty pink tongue. 

Jackson is stunned silent, his eyes following the metal as it retreated behind Stiles’ teeth. 

Stiles, who seemed a whole lot more sober as he smirked, licking his lips, giving Jackson just the slightest flash of the bar once more. 

“She even healed it up for me, right away, once she replied I knew about her being... you know. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. But really, this is a gift for you.” he murmurs, and Jackson’s belly pools with lust. He was going to have to thank Kira later—but for now, he just slung Stiles over his shoulder, caveman style, and hauls him home.

—

When they first started dating, Stiles spent... a painful amount of time discovering Jackson’s erogenous zones, and repeats the process with the bar in his tongue over the next year. Jackson loves it, of course, but what he really loves it he look on Stiles face when they discover something new together—Stiles lights up like a kid on Christmas morning. 

Kira becomes a staple in their friend group, inevitable once she and Scott start dating, so it becomes a regular thing that they hang out at her shop.

Which, Stiles is impressed to learn, is her shop—as in she owns it, not just works there. 

They swing by late one evening, after a wonderful anniversary dinner, and really, where had five years gone? Stiles insists that he has something for Kira before they go home, and Jackson is in no hurry—they had started talking serious things over the past few months, and Stiles had left no doubt to be found about the fact that he intended to spend the rest of his life with Jackson. 

He was loved, he was happy, and he would do anything for Stiles. Even if it meant waiting for what he knew would be some mind-blowing, commitment laced, anniversary sex. 

Scott is there, surprising no one, and Stiles hovers around, watching in morbid curiosity as Malia, one of the artists, wipes clean the last in a series of corset piercings on one of their female customers, her hands fast but gentle as she laces the last piercing up. 

Jackson, on the other hand, is drawn almost immediately to Kira. Or, more precisely, what Kira is sketching. She had a set of designs open on her tablet, two nearly identical looking rectangles detailing some of the most ornate scenes he had ever seen. He often found himself entranced in what Kira drew, on skin or on screen, and this was no exception. 

They’re both monochromatic, and they look like they belong together—one with a wide forestscape, trees and earth and ark sky blending together, the other with a wolf, tall and proud. They could be standalone pieces, Jackson thought, but they looked almost cyclical, like they could be arm bands.

Well, no, not arm bands—they were too small for that, they were more like—

“Rings.” Stiles says, behind him, a small smile on his face as Kira hits Print. “They’re going to be rings, Jackson.”

Jackson turns back and tilts his head as Kira shows them the transposed stencil printouts—he can kind of see it, they’re definitely small enough to wrap around a finger, and Kira is amazing enough with her detail work that she can probably make it fit, impeccably, to fit halfway between someones hand and their first knuckle. 

“I know you’re not really into the material things, and lets be honest, I would lose a ring.” Stiles starts, and Jackson turns, still clueless, but definitely picking up on Stiles nerves, picking up that there’s something that he’s missing. “But, I figured that this was a good compromise... I mean, I know I want to have something that reminds me of you always, so... what do you say, Jacks?”

He takes one of the stencils—the one of the forest—and peels it from the paper gently, getting down on one knee as he takes Jackson’s left hand, wrapping the stencil around the lowest portion of his ring finger. It’s almost a perfect fit. 

“Will you marry me?”

—

By the time they tie the knot, they both have several more additions to their body. Stiles has a pair of studs in each of his ears and a second hole in his tongue, placed near the tip, so he can fit a ring through it. 

Jackson had quickly discovered a love of ink—he had a thin snake, coiled around his neck, low enough to be covered by his scrub top at work (Stiles had called him macabre), a Rod of Asclepius over his heart (he was so tired of explaining the difference between it and the Staff of Caduceus), and a triskele on his shoulder blade (Derek had cried, literally cried, when Jackson showed him, their pack bond thrumming stronger than ever).

(He also might have had a wedding present for Stiles done that morning, a shining Prince Albert, courtesy of Malia [who blessedly didn’t ask questions while stabbing Jackson’s junk with a needle] and an instant heal courtesy of Kira [who really, really didn’t want to know].)

His favorite, though, by far, was the band on his finger—and as the Justice of the Peace declared them married and he dipped his husband into a filthy kiss, cheered on by all of their friends and family, he couldn’t help but admire the two bands together. They were different, but they still fit together. Beautiful. Complimentary. Permanent. 

And Jackson wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

[lennox-levin-little-lilith-did]

Hello people who follow me

For people who haven’t been following my blog all that much, I have Dissociative Identity Disoder, more commonly known as Spilt Personality, or Multiple Personality Disoder (which it’s no longer called this, the shortened version is DID)

DID is a disordercharacterized by the presence of two or more distinct personality states. A reaction to trauma as a way to help a person avoid bad memories.

Symptoms are;

Behavioral: impulsivity, self-destructive behavior, or self-harm (check, check, and check)

Mood: anxiety, feeling detached from self, or mood swings (check, check, and check)

Psychological: altered consciousness, depression, or flashback (check, check, and check)

Also common: amnesia or blackout (huge check)

Let’s start this my early childhood-

I never had a dad, he was in and out of my life constantly. So I was always looking for a father figure.

It didn’t help my mom was hopping from man to man at the time.

However I had one man in my life that never left and loved me like his own. That man was my uncle. I loved him so much, I still do, but by no means was he a good role model. He was in to drugs, never took his medication, and I think was in a gang (that if he hung out with some really bad people). One memory I have of him is him letting me help him make a roll (weed roll) when I was three or four.

I had a been diagnosed with ADHD by the time I was five. It was severe when I was younger, I couldn’t sit still or focus on anything, including school.

Anyways, one day, I come home from school, like any other day. I was happy because my grandmother had picked me up and said she would be staying with me for a while. (Mind you, this is what I’ve been told, I have zero recollection of this month). I come home to strange people and cars around my home, but I go about my greetings as usual. My mom had a boyfriend at this point, his name was Angel, he was nice (we’ll get back to him later). I was told to stay in my room with my kitten, Ella (yes the same cat I talk about to this day) and my dog, Sassy. My grandmother would come in to make I was okay, which I was. The next day was even weirder, a lady in a police uniform watched me get dressed for the day. My teachers treated me differently and I had to leave school early. I was confused, I also hadn’t seen my uncle in two days without communication. I was asked multiple questions about my uncle and I answered them honestly. I later learned that he had buried a woman’s body, had he killed her or not is a mystery as there was someone else with him that day he buried her.

My uncle had schizophrenia, and he had just revealed to me that he had an episode when everything was happening and he was off his meds.

We had moved in December of that year due to people screaming slurs at me whenever I went outside. I don’t remember this, again I have no recollection of that month.

I developed severe emotional issues, including bottling things up and exploding in violent outburst. My ADHD made it hard to focus on schoolwork, specifically reading. I alway spaced out while reading, and heard a small distracting voice, telling me to play with my stuffed animals or watch TV (I didn’t tell my mom this and I still haven’t). My mom didn’t understand why I was like this. She thought I was acting out for attention. So first through third grade I suffered and started to hate school. I started to hate my classmates. So I started to let that little voice speak for me. Eventually I started blacking out during school.

I didn’t know this wasn’t normal.

I didn’t know that when my mom asked what did I do at school, she thought I just didn’t want to talk about school.

Time skip to sixth grade (the worst year of my entire life)-

I was eleven at the time. I had friends, I was a social butterfly. Yeah, sure I had people I didn’t like, but I didn’t let them effect me.

Until November 29, 2016 (yes I remember the exact date)

The weekend before I had slept over at my bestie’s house, then I went home because I had 4-H on Sunday. I got my phone taken away Sunday night because my ‘friend’ wouldn’t stop texting me. I saw on my google docs I had a new document, shared with my teachers. It was nice, complimenting them on their teaching skills. But I didn’t write it. It wasn’t my typing style.

I went to school on Monday like any other day, happy and cheerful. Around second period, I got called to the office. I was asked if I wrote the doc that was under my email. I said yes because it was nice, I didn’t think anything was wrong with it.

Boy, was I wrong... (holy shit I’m about to cry writing this)

I got called down a second time, this time my principal was saying I hacked into others school accounts and wrote a threatening letter on google docs under another student’s account. I started to deny that I wrote anything, that I thought the doc was written on a spur of the moment.

The third time I was called down, it was with my best friend, Angie. We both didn’t know what was going on and denied any and all accusations.

The fourth and final time I was called down was at the end of the day... my teachers were there. They wouldn’t listen... they didn’t care what I said... I was a sweet girl with dreams and passions. I loved my teachers with all my heart... it didn’t matter to them. Nothing mattered to them (here come the waterworks).

I said I did it to protect my friends from getting in trouble...

In the end, I got three days of in school suspension and a beating from my mom that I don’t remember.

The first day, they forgot I was there. I was in a little white room, with a chair and a desk. The social worker came in and asked me if I had really done it. I had a good relationship with her, I really liked her... I shouldn’t have trusted her.

The second day... the second day, the principal, vice principal, and social worker of the school came into the room and I was confused. Then the screaming started... the banging on the desk. They thought on Monday I had written another doc to my teachers, saying they didn’t scare me and they could go fuck themselves and I changed a student’s pfp to a bloody knife.

Then the principal came around behind me, still screaming her head off, and slammed her hands down on my shoulders and squeezed, hard, resulting in bruises later that day. After that, the little voice took over and started crying. Sobbing for them to leave us alone. They walked out leaving a broken child in their wake.

I had curled up under the desk and continued to cried, repeatedly saying, “I want to die, I don’t deserve to live...” the social worker came back in and tried to calm me down, but I looked at her and said I wanted to die. This was the first time of so many, that I had a suicidal thought.

211 services were called and I told them I felt bad about everything I’ve ever done, continuing the lie I’ve been dragged into. I can’t tell the truth... They wouldn’t believe me anyways... I had thought. I went home and stayed home for the rest of the week. That night I walked into my kitchen and opened my knife drawer and pulled out the biggest knife, mind completely blank. I gently slid it against my wrist, thinking about cutting. I didn’t. I put the knife away and went back to my room, empty. I felt lost, and like I was drowning.

A third voice slowly developed. It was a boy this time, he was sad and hated talking to others (I’ll get to my second voice development in a bit). He took over during school, all though I could think on my own and speak, he had main control. I had a mental breakdown later that week after my class had been too loud, I told my music teacher it was because I had sensitive hearing (which was part of the reason). I stayed hidden during recess, and I sat in the back of the lunchroom with people I didn’t like or know. My outbursts only got more violent and more frequent, to the point where I would push my mom and stepdad (remember Angel, yeah him), resulting in more beatings from my mom.

My aunt got a lawyer to extinguish the suspension from my permanent record. The lawyer didn’t want to help all that much because he thought I was hiding something, which I was, but I refused to tell. The suspension was extinguished and I was allowed to use the school computers again.

I went to a new school the next year and transferred to where I’m located now...

First-seventh grade (the second voice’s development)-

My stepdad (Angel) was nice the first year my mom dated him. Then everything started to change. He started coming home drunk. After my little brother was born, things only got worse (and no, I don’t blame my brother for the change, it was envitable). He started getting angry at my mom, and at me. He started calling me a bitch, a little shit, a mistake.

I started to have out of body experiences, whenever I violent towards him. Pushing him, slapping him, punching him, scratching him. One time he slapped my mom and my mom’s therapist called DCF on her. I’ve been told I had walked into the kitchen right when he slapped her. However I don’t remember, I just remember the feeling of uncontrollable rage spreading through my body.

I don’t remember there being a voice in the beginning, I remember being one place or doing one thing, get angry, and suddenly being somewhere else. Especially when Angel started calling me names.

Another time, right after my mom had carpal tunnel surgery, he left suddenly. I was in the basement reading and playing with my bunny at the time. I came back up when my mom started screaming for me. The front door was left wide open and my brother left in the living room. We had Max and Ella, it was the summer of 2016. My mom was hysterical, screaming at me, saying it was my fault he left, that everything was my fault. I left the house and stayed with my neighbors for an hour, waiting for my mom to calm down. I went back and was sent straight to my room. I remember being angry, so mad at myself for no reason. I hated myself. I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression the next year.

There’s a shit ton of stories I could tell about Angel getting drunk or leaving the house and coming back drunk. I won’t. I’m not here to tell a sob story, I never will ask for pity. I’m telling you how small things to certain people can be huge to another. My mom didn’t think it affected my all that much, my therapists thought I didn’t need intense therapy despite everything. All because I didn’t know that hearing voices other than your own wasn’t normal.

I started looking up depression and anxiety to help manage it better, and stumbled upon an article about schizophrenia. I looked more into it and found out about DID when I was thirteen, two years ago. However I still didn’t tell anyone... I was scared.

I was a freak

I was unnatural

I had three voices, three other people, inside of me. They wanted control, they wanted a voice too. They became unbearable, and when I started high school, I broke.

I tried to kill myself. I started starving myself the previous school year and started cutting over that summer... I finally told someone about the voices but no one believed me, and still no does. They think I’m lying...

So I’m not diagnosed, but I know I have DID.

Who’s who-

Little was voice one- she’s a little, under the age of ten. Little isn’t her real name but I don’t want her name out there on the internet where people can manipulate her. She has ADHD and is incredibly hyper. This body doesn’t get much rest, so after someone else fronts, we usually have to sleep. She’s also a trauma holder, knowing what happened that month blackout. She has no interest in people romantically (obviously, she’s a child)

Lilith is angry blackout/voice two- she’s ageless, a prosecutor, and a secret keeper. She’s a trauma holder to the verbal and physical abuse I suffered when I was younger, really up until last year I was verbally abused by my mom. She has anger issues and severe mood swings. She rarely fronts, but when she does, Levi or I have to co-con with her so she doesn’t murder someone. She’s angry and is always aggressive towards me and Little. She leaves Levs out of her aggression though. Lilith is bisexual (no, not pan like I identify).

Levin/Levi/Lev(he goes by all of them however I prefer calling him Levi)- he has insomnia and major social anxiety. (Also is co-conscious with me rn) He’s apathetic and very neutral when it comes to opinions, but he’s humorous and super sarcastic when he’s comfortable. He’s a gatekeeper and he’s 18. He as food related anxiety, but no major eating disorders. He’s has no sexual desires, but is romantically attracted to girls.

Lennox(the writer of this)- they age with the body, so 15, and host/often front. They have social anxiety, depression, body dysmorphia, and is the first alter, or first recognized alter. They are nonbinary and pansexual.

I’m going to start labeling who your talking to, or who’s out at the time, like this

-Lennox (Kay?)

Thank you for reading!

I’mma tag some people I think should see this-

@one-pissed-off-child @madame-ree @queenzie-xo @anon-nom-nom95 @liveto-100 @aleiakit @gogetyoselfsomesoup @nadia-saaaaan @mai-ki-000 @martinidrinkingmartin @scalybunnypapi69 @pumpkineiji @cristinaweeb @pikaweebo @siyarduous-lazyaf @reijishiki

And to lighten my mood and for giggles-

POWER WALK BEFORE YOUR LATE ZUZU!!!

🤣🤣🤣🤣

[anotheronechicagobog]

Tylenol and Tequila Part 3

written by @anotheronechicagobog​

Warnings: swearing, mature themes, fire, chemical reactions

A/N: This one is REALLY long. I don’t know the word count but it took up ten pages in google docs with size 11 font, so I hope you guys like it!

Also, I came up with the term ‘Hermann Horde’ to describe him and his kids, I think it’s hilarious, but let me know what you gusy think.

Stella Kidd has always wanted to be a mother. To experience the joy, fear, love, frustration, cheer that being a parent brings. The only problem? She didn’t want to be the one to actually give birth to them and she didn’t agree with surrogacy. But she had been homeless and in the foster system when she wasn’t living with her addict parents, so she knew that there were lots of kids who just needed someone to love them. This had been a point of contention between her and Grant. Biological kid(d)s are the only ones he would accept. It would end in screaming matches, Grant saying at some point that it would happen whether she liked it or not. That should have been a huge red flag for her, but she’d loved him so she ignored it.

With Kelly though, he understood. He understood that if she got pregnant she would have to take leave from being a firefighter for a while, so long as there weren’t complications with the pregnancy that were severe enough to end her career, and that was something he would never ask or expect her to do. When Stella wanted to have a serious conversation about kids he watched her collapse in relief that he shared her opinions. That he thought it would be better for both of them to foster older kids, pre-teens and teenagers.

Kelly had never liked Grant. Always thought that he was a manipulative piece of shit, and every even remotely serious conversation had been about Grant ignoring Stella’s wants, needs, and choices. If Grant showed his face again it would take an army and at least one dragon to stop him from killing Grant.

The only people they’d told were Boden, cause he’d need to know as their chief, Matt and Sylvie because they’d need someone to talk to about it besides each other and references. They’d all been ecstatic for the couple, Sylvie in particular. She didn’t remember much about her time in foster care, but she remembered enough to know how terrible, nightmarish, and broken it was. 

Kylie was the first kid who popped up in both their minds. Her dad was a neglectful cop who had multiple families and her mom was a heroin addict. Kylie did what she could to remain afloat, to distance herself from who her parents are and what they do, but it was hard. Her dad just showing up and doing whatever the fuck he wanted and leaving ruins in his wake, and her mom was only around a third of the time, almost always on a bender with whoever she was ‘dating’ that week. Kylie had spent most of her childhood living with her grandma after being placed there by social services but was dumped back on her mom after seven months after her grandma passed three months in the system. The four months she spent being tossed between group homes and foster families were not times she advertised or wanted to remember. Girls on Fire had brought the support that she hadn’t had for so long into her life. When she missed a Girls on Fire meeting Stella got worried, it didn’t correlate with her character. 

A call to detective Jay Halstead from Kelly brought out the depressing truth. Her mom had gotten high, signed her out of school, and then dragged her to a scummy abandoned warehouse to help her score some product. Kylie managed to slip away and call 911 for help after the dealer smacked her around for saying ‘no’. But he found her at the end of the call, and he didn’t react well. They’d rushed over to the ED when they found out where she was.

Stella actually started to cry when she saw the state Kylie was in. So frail, monitors beeping, covered in bandages, arm in a sling. Kelly tracked down Natalie to figure out what her condition was, and it wasn’t good. Amelia Wood, a social worker showed up just as she finished explaining everything.

“Hello, I’m Amelia Woods from DCFS, here for Kylie Reyez?”

“Of course, Ms. Woods as I was just explaining to lieutenant Severide, Kylie has a minor concussion five bruised ribs, a shoulder fracture, and we’re waiting on the results from her sexual assault kit.”

“And why would you be explaining it to lieutenant Severide? The only relatives listed in her file are her deceased grandmother, ineligible father detective Mark Reyez, and criminally negligent mother Daphne Adams.”

“My girlfriend Stella Kidd runs a program called Girls on Fire, a fire department outreach program for girls, and Kylie’s signed up for it. When she didn’t show up for the last session she had a really bad feeling and Kylie wasn’t answering her phone so we called some people and found out she was here. We rushed over, Stella’s actually with her now. What, uh, what’s going to happen to Kylie?”

“Well she’s not going to live with either of her parents, and she has no other family, so she’ll go into the system.”

“Group home or foster family?”

“... Group home to start... We’ll try to find a foster for her but that’s unlikely at her age.”

“Stella and I are in the final stages of getting approved as a foster family, would it be possible for Kylie to be placed with us?”

“Who’s the social worker assigned to you?”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a week in the ED Kylie was permitted to leave, and go to Severide and Kidd’s apartment. Kylie was ecstatic, Stella and Kelly had made it clear that their apartment was a safe place for Kylie, that all she would have to do was be a teenager. There would be some rules and curfew in place but Stella and Kelly were just focusing on making sure that Kylie had a stable home.

When they got home Stella gingerly showed Kylie her room. It was plain, had been seen Matt moved out the year before, but Sylvie had offered to help Kylie decorate it when she was comfortable. “We can arrange for that shopping trip in a few days, let’s just get you settled in first.”

“Ladies, our deep dish order has been placed and should be here in forty minutes. I think that maybe we should take this time to talk about some rules and stuff. Then we can chow down on pizza.”

Stella chuckled at her boyfriend’s attempt at humour, and Kylie smiled at how they looked at each other. “That sounds like a good idea Kel. You ready Kylie?”

“Yeah, let’s hear it.”

“Okay, so curfew is 10:30pm, but if there’s something special going on that night just let us know in advance and we can extend it.”

“School is priority, if you want a part-time job or something that’s fine, but school comes first.”

“Look, we don’t want you drinking or having sex-”

Gagging from Kylie interrupted Stella, “yeah, yeah, it’s gross to talk about with your guardians but we get that as a teenager that’s just something you might get into, so if you need condoms or a ride home or something, just let us know or call, we just want you to be safe. We won’t exactly be happy that you’re partying or whatever, but anything’s better than playing keep-up.”

“And if there’s stuff you want to talk about, we’re here. And if you don’t want to talk to us, that’s okay too. As long as you’re talking to someone, a teacher, guidance counselor, Brett, whoever, just as long as you talk to someone.”

“When we’re on shift we’ll both have our phones on if you need us, we’ll leave you by yourself so no parties, please. If you want to have a friend over that’s fine, but let us know beforehand and we’d like to meet them first.”

“The system actually covers therapy bills so you could even talk to a therapist if you want. And as far as the money from the government goes, we’ll budget it so that some pitches into groceries, and there’s some spending money for your room or stuff you want, but the rest will go into a post-secondary school fund for you, which we’ll also be personally putting some money into.”

“... Really?”

“Yes, really. We are here to make sure that you have support, and that includes making sure you have some money for when you’re out of high school.”

“Thank you...”

“You really don’t need to say ‘thank you’ sweetheart, we’re here to help and love you as much as we can.” The doorbell ended their conversation that left tears brimming the eyes of all three, “I guess it’s time for pizza.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There had been some disagreements and adjustments, but overall everyone could agree it had been a complete success. A month later, after the move-in and hours spent convincing Kylie that having money spent on her was okay, Sylvie, Stella and Kylie met up at the nice shopping area of downtown with money to spend. The plan was to spend the morning shopping then meet up with Kelly and the rest of 51 at the park for a picnic with the lovely souls from 51, 21, and MED.

“Where to first, Kylie?”

“Umm, a bedding store maybe?”

“Kylie, we talked about this, it’s okay that we want to spend money on you, okay?”

“Kylie, I went through this too. I still get freaked out when people spend money on me, especially if I didn’t have time to discourage them from doing so. I’m still pretty stingy if I’m honest. I know that it’s hard, you feel panicked and like you’re not worth this, you’re not worth this waste of money. What I find helps is taking lots of deep breaths, going straight to the sale and clearance racks, and remembering that all the stores we’re going to are family businesses, and that by spending money here we are supporting small businesses and people who work really hard to earn money and own a store of their own.”

Kylie thought for a moment, taking in Sylvie’s advice. “Okay, I’ll try that.”

“Okay.”

“So, where to?”

“I could use a couple shirts...” Stella and Sylvie smiled brightly, grabbed onto an arm, and marched over to the nearest boutique.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After dropping everything off at the apartment the three women made it to the park a thirty minutes after the designated time. “‘Bout time you three showed up!” 

“Cool it, Halstead, besides, shouldn’t you be spending your girlfriend?”

“Hailey is not my girlfriend!” 

“Y’know, it’s kinda funny, Stella didn’t even mention a Hailey...”

“Hey! I have more than enough people on my back about this, I don’t need a kid I haven’t met- oh waiiiiit, you’re Kidd and Severide’s foster right? Well, I’m Jay Halstead, Severide hasn't shut up about you, everyone’s really excited to meet you.”

“Including Hailey.” Jay froze for a second, before an exasperated expression took over his face, then he leaned his head back and groaned loudly before stomping away, leaving nothing but laughter in his wake.

“You know what Stella? I think Kylie should meet Hailey first.”

“Ooooh, yes.”

“Hailey! We have someone we want you to meet!”

They all ran across the field to her after hearing the panicked ‘NOooOOOooo’ from Jay Halstead. The confused blonde greeted them with a chuckle. “Hi, I’m Hailey Upton, you must be Kylie. It’s really great to meet you.”

“You too, I’ve heard a lot about how badass you are.”

“Oh, don’t listen to all that you hear-”

“Ig- *gasp* ignore her. She’s awesome.” A stressed-looking Jay sputtered out as he took his place beside Hailey. “Well,” Kylie slyley started, “I’m not sure that you’re unbiased, but I guess I’ll take your word for it.” Jay panicked, Hailey was confused, Stella and Sylvie were doing everything in their power not to laugh.

“Wha-”

“Maybe she should meet Casey next, hmmm?” He gave a well-placed look to Sylvie and she started to pout.”

“That was cold.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been a long day, filled with grilled food, cake games, and new family members. Kylie was happy though. It had been a lot, but she felt like she connected with and could count on everyone there. She was full of food and happiness. “That was really fun. It was great to meet everyone.”

“Really you didn’t feel like it was too much?”

“We were worried that we’d overwhelm you.”

“No, I think it was good to do it this way, like ripping off a bandaid.”

“Good. Well we have shift tomorrow, starting at six in the morning. So we should probably head to bed.”

“I’m gonna do the same, I am beat the Hermann Horde really knows how to wear it out of you.”

“The Hermann Horde, oh my god... That describes them perfectly.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shift had gone rather smoothly so far, a couple fire drills at local schools, a few fall-down and PD calls for ambo 61, and a smoke-detector check in an apartment building. All was well and good until around two o’clock when Stella got a horrifying phone call from Kylie.

“Stella?”

“Kylie? What’s wrong your voice sounds really shaky.” Kelly’s head snapped up at her words and she gestured for him to come over, he’d arrived and Stella turned the phone so they could both hear and talk just as they heard screams. “Kylie? Kylie!”

“There’s a fire, it’s getting big and we’re trapped and I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, where is the fire? What lit it? Has anyone called 911 yet?” Kelly prattled off doing his best to be helpful instead of curling into a ball and crying. “Chem room, sulfuric acid and a chlorate, and everyone else is calling 911.”

“Okay, are you near a carbon dioxide extinguisher?”

“Uh, cupboard next to me... Yeah!”

“Pull out the pin, lift the nossel and aim at the BASE of the fire by squeezing the levers together.”

They didn’t get a response but could hear what was happening, it took a few minutes before Kylie picked up the phone again, “it’s ou-t but smoldering or- smoking a bit? What-ever, it was down enough for all of us to- get out, so- we’re running.”

“Oh thank god. We’ll  come right away- or do you want us to meet you at the hospital? You need to get medical attention if you were near ractive sulfuric acid.”

“Uh, how about I just keep you on the phone as I get checked out, we can figure it out from there?” 

“Okay, we- we’ll wait.” Stella and Kelly just about collapsed in relief, all the members of 51 who had gathered around them smiled and offered them as much comfort as possible. “Hey, um- my foster parents? They’re on the line, they’re firefighters, uh, just want to know what hospital we’re going to, if I’m okay.”

“Well, tell...”

“Stella Kidd and Lieutenant Kelly Severide.”

“Kidd and Lieutenant Severide to meet us at Chicago MED.”

“We’re leaving now.” They both froze and stared at Boden like deers in headlights. “Alright,” in Boden’s usual gruff voice, “mount up everybody. We’re going to MED. We’ll keep our radios on and leave from there if necessary. Kidd, Severide, I’ll need to call in a floater to cover one of you for the rest of shift. It’ll be easier if it’s Kidd, cause at least one of you has to stay with Kylie. I’ll see what I can do about a floater for you though, Severide.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Amelia met them at the hospital, there were some incident forms, but because Kylie called them for help and saved herself and her classmates because of it, Amelia just gave them a smile and told them they were doing great. Kylie needed to stay at MED for a couple days because of the smoke she inhaled, but so did her classmates and they kept each other entertained. Then OFI showed up. Seager was quite obviously still carrying a torch for Kelly, but was still very polite to Stella and Kylie. “Well, your story matches up with the evidence we have and the statements collected from your teacher and 29 classmates.”

“Wait, she has 30 classmates, there’s 31 kids in her class.”

“Yes, well, Chad is the only one who’s story is off, but that’s because all the evidence points to him messing around and starting the fire. None of you can say anything to any of the other victims and their families.”

“Got it.”

Seager left with a longing look directed at Kelly, but no one was looking at her. Kylie had started to tear up, the reality that she could have died finally hitting her at full force, and both her parents (what she’d started calling Stella and Kelly in her head) immediately tended to her. Hugging her, letting her know they were there, and that it was okay to cry. So Kylie lay there, shaking and sobbing, as the two people who loved her just as much as her grandmother had, did everything they could to let her know they loved her, and that they had been scared too. That they would be sad if she had died. At some point the tears stopped being about fear and started being about love.

This was the scene that Casey walked in on, he quietly stepped away, knowing just how intimate this moment was supposed to be. He walked back to the waiting room. “Not yet guys, they need some time to themselves. I think it might be better if we came back later with some food or something.” A call came over their walkies before anyone got a chance to agree with their captain.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kylie had transferred schools after the fire, the smoke from the chemical reaction that started the fire had gotten into a vent and messed up the entire air con system, meaning the school had to be shut down for the rest of the year while it was replaced. The air quality was deemed too dangerous for students and staff to even retrieve their stuff from the school. So Kylie had been transferred to the same high school as Lee Henry Hermann. He’d shown her around the school and introduced her to his friends. Things had been going really well until 51 got a call to a mattress factory fire. Kylie hadn’t been around when Otis died, but she could still see how everyone was affected by his death. The fire was so bad that the news had been reporting on it since before school even started and new, terrifying developments were still coming. Kylie was scared, her stomach was so twisted she felt what she could only describe as extreme nausea, she couldn’t focus, and she was practically jumping out of her skin everytime she got a notification on her phone. She couldn’t find Lee anywhere either, she had no way of knowing how he’d be handling it. While he was around to know Otis, his dad had been a firefighter longer than he’d been alive. Maybe he had coping methods.

After another panic grab for her phone Kylie was excused from class with a sympathetic glance from her teacher. She wandered the halls for a few minutes, doing everything not to cry, not to feel hopeless, when one of Lee's friends spotted her. “Henry heads to the greenhouse on bad days.” Was all Donovan said before walking away. Kylie took a breath, hiked her bag higher onto her shoulder, and headed to the greenhouse. What more did she have to fear?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The door was unlocked, so she walked in and... Immediately took off her cardigan. “Lee?”

“Kylie...” His voice wasn’t confident like it usually was, it was hoarse and weak. She maneuvered her way around all the planter boxes before finding Lee sitting on a small, poorly made if she was being honest, wooden bench that was surrounded by peonies of varying colours. It was strange seeing Lee the way he was. Sickly pale, eyes red, exhausted lax muscles. “You’re scared too.”

“Terrified... I don’t know how you’ve dealt with this your whole life...” Kylie couldn’t control her emotions anymore. Lee tugged her by the wrist to sit beside him and wrapped her in his arms. “I don’t know how I’ve dealt with it either. I don’t think I do, really.”

“Does chocolate help? Cause I’ve got some in my bag...”

“Oh, yes. Chocolate helps.” The rest of their last two periods were spent crying, hugging, and eating chocolate in the greenhouse. They didn’t find out until they were leaving that the last of the fire had been put out, and that no first responders had died, and while three had been injured none of them were from firehouse 51.

“This may seem childish, and I know you don’t do this, but I think I’m gonna head to 51... I need to see that they’re okay for myself...”

“The only reason my siblings and I don’t do that is because our mom manages to keep them in the dark still. She used the child safety functions to keep the news from giving us alerts, she only tells us something happened after the ash has settled, or she just tells us that dad had a bad shift a half hour before he gets home. She runs so much interference, but, I... I disabled the child safety stuff when I was twelve, so that I could watch some PG-14 movies, I didn’t find out about the news notifications until a month later. I mean, I saw that news apps were specifically selected when I disabled the setting, but I didn’t think anything of it until they got a call to a train wreck. I had never been more afraid for my dad in my life. I hadn’t fully comprehended just how dangerous my dad’s job was until that day. Every five minutes there was a... higher body count, reports of trouble at the scene, a video of a gas explosion that 51 was barely able to control... I strongly believe that it was the worst day of my life. I wanted to go to the firehouse, I told my mom that I found out from friends, I didn’t want her to turn the news off again... But she told me I couldn’t go see him. I had to wait. It was a long four hour hours. So, I get it. If you want, there’s some time before I have to pick up my brothers and sister. How about we go pick up some doughnuts, then my siblings, and then make a visit to 51.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this for me.”

“Yeah, this way I get to see my dad after fearing for his life all day and I can use you being worried as an excuse when my mom asks.” Kylie laughed as Lee smirked, proud of his plan.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey Brett.”

“Hey, I brought you doughnuts, courtesy of the Hermann Horde and Kylie.”

“How annoyed is Hermann that the nickname caught on?”

“Very.”

“So, how do the kids look? I imagine at least Lee Henry and Kylie saw the news today.”

“Kylie looked like she was going to burst into tears when she saw Stella and Severide. Lee looked like a weight came off his shoulders when he saw Hermann. But then, he uh...”

“Hm?”

“Lee Henry looked at Kylie and smiled, really softly, and he got this puppy dog look in his eyes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I know what I saw.”

“You think there’s something going on?”

“Not yet... But I’m keeping my eye out.”

[cptsdstudyblr]

I got a new planner!

[Image descriptions are available at the bottom of the post.]

[Image description after text because it is very long.]

This year, I’ve really been struggling with the digital planner system that’s gotten me through the past 4 years of school. Honestly, I think the fact that all I ever do anymore is stare at my laptop has made that planner less practical for me to use. So, today, I was out and about trying to find a specific size of envelope (which I did not find) and I ended up at YP Books (영풍문고), where I found this planner (the Color Point Study Planner). I honestly picked it up just because it was there and it was cute, but when I opened it I was struck by how well-organized this planner was for someone who likes to plan the way I do. To plan, I need a delicate balance of structure and leniency, because if I tip too far one way or the other, I’ll never accomplish anything.

It’s got this really cute monthly page (which can be customized for any month). You do have to write the days yourself, and as you can see by my scribbles, I momentarily forgot that not every month starts on a Sunday. However, this page is super versatile! I write my assignments and exams here and color code those days, and I use the unlabeled checklist at the bottom right to make a brief to-do list for the month. Once I finish something, it gets marked off or highlighted! I think this is a really helpful way to visualize my schedule and make sure I don’t lose track of any due dates.

Each month also comes equipped with daily pages. Once again, you do have to customize these yourself, but that’s part of what I like about it. I can skip days if I need to and I can make sure that the page handles what I need how I need it. These pages are quite complicated, but I’ll give you the basics of how I use them. 

At the top, there are 3 blanks after the date. One is labelled “D-Day,” but I instead use this to label the day of the week as I find that much more useful for me, then I fill out how many hours I plan to study (I do this at the beginning of the day so that it motivates me), then I put my general goal or plan for the day to the right. Below that, in the “Check Point” space, I put the two biggest goals I have for the day task-wise. These are usually my highest-priority tasks.

Obviously, the bulk of the space is used for a checklist, which I use to outline all the tasks I need to do that day, both school and otherwise. To the right, in the schedule space, I plan my day to make sure I can get everything done that I need to get done. There’s also a space at the bottom that I use to write events and extremely important tasks (such as exams and due dates).

Overall, the point of this post is that it’s really important to find an organizational system that works for you, whether it be digital or paper. My personal suggestion for figuring out your best system is just trial and error. Unfortunately, trial and error can be quite expensive, so I’ll include below some tips to find a good system for you without breaking the bank:

Try digital first! Most digital platforms are free (or at least have free trials), so this is a great place to start to save money. It’s also a great way to figure out what elements of different systems work for you - even if digital isn’t your thing, you might realize that you prefer a to-do list over a calendar, or that you work really well with a super structured study schedule. That info can help you find a paper planner that will work well for you.

Go to the store and look at physical planners. Once you have an idea of what you’re looking for in a planner, go to a physical store (or multiple) and spend some time looking through a bunch of planners. Once again, even if you don’t like any of them, this might help give you an idea of what you do and don’t like.

Print out (or draw) planner pages. If you want to test out a style of physical planner without buying it, find an online PDF or create your own and print a few to test out. You can also draw it (just make sure to take a photo in the store so you can do so accurately) in a regular notebook for testing purposes.

Do research. There’s lots of different methods of planning schedules, keeping track of due dates, and journaling besides the typical Google calendar and to-do list or the standard paper planner. A great example is bullet journaling, which allows you to create your own planner and change it up as you want.

Eventually you’ll figure out what planning style works best for you, and you’ll find the perfect paper planner to purchase if that’s what you decide is your best option.

[Image description after the read more:]

[Image description:

Image 1/4: There’s a pink notebook. On the cover are a man and a woman holding smiley face signs over their faces. Below them, text reads “Anything is good if I can do it with you. Whether it’s laughing together, studying together, or playing together, everything is twice as wonderful when you are doing it with me.” In the top left, a blue sticky note covers the user’s name and on it is written “@cptsdstudyblr.”

Image 2/4: This is a two-page notebook spread. The pages are white with a purple outline. The page is titled “How to Use Study Planner.” The two pages detail how each page of the planner is intended to be used, but most of the text is in Korean (transcription note: according to Google, the Korean alphabet would not work with English screen-readers, so I haven’t included this text). There are 7 steps labelled in English for using the planner.

About my goal

Time table

Monthly study plan

Daily study plan

Exam plan & result

Internet lecture check

Mock test record & graph

Transcription note: I’m happy to provide the Korean contents of the page for anyone who is interested, but I don’t want to break everyone’s screen readers.

Image 3/4: This is a two-page monthly calendar spread. The pages are primarily white, with a yellow bar across the top. The number 10 is circled in the top right to indicate that the page is for the 10th month. The days of the week start from Sunday and go to Saturday. The month is labelled from date 1 (a Thursday) to date 31 (a Saturday). Below are listed dates with special notes:

October 4 - Micro HW. This date is highlighted purple, and the text is highlighted yellow to indicate that the assignment is complete.

October 7 - Networks HW. This date is highlighted purple, and the text is highlighted yellow to indicate that the assignment is complete.

October 8 - Critical Thinking Paper. This date is highlighted purple, and the text is highlighted yellow to indicate that the assignment is complete.

October 10 - Korean HW. This date is highlighted purple, and the text is highlighted yellow to indicate that the assignment is complete.

October 11 - Micro HW. This date is highlighted purple, and the text is highlighted yellow to indicate that the assignment is complete.

October 15 - Micro HW. This date is highlighted purple.

October 18 - Micro HW. This date is highlighted purple.

October 22 - Comp Pol Exam. There is a bubble around the words and the date is highlighted pink.

On the far right is a cute, colorful drawing of a woman studying with her dog and the quote “It’s more fun when you study together than alone!” Below that is a checklist with the items “Vote!,” “Student ID,” and “Midterms.”

Image 4/4:

This is a two-page spread consisting of two daily planner pages. The pages are primarily white with a yellow outline. The leftmost page is as follows:

There are two columns on this page. The left column’s top row has three sections - “Date - 12,” “D-Day - Lun,” “Study Hours - 5.” (Transcription note: The “D-Day” blank is used for the day of the week instead of the proper use, and the days of the week are labelled in French rather than English.) The second row of that column is labelled “Check Point” and has two bullet points “catch up on micro” and “be ready to vote.” Below that is a small slot to put a song of the day, which is “SKZ (Transcription note: SKZ stands for Stray Kids) - Slump (Japanese ver.). Below is the checklist for the day. It includes both the priority and the item as follows:

HI - buy envelope

HI - micro lab video

HI - Korean class

MED - micro lecture

LO - micro HW (lecture)

MED - grocery shopping

HI - Korean HW

Below this checklist is a doodle of a woman studying.

The right column of this page starts on its top row with the slot “Goal,” which is filled with the phrase “catch up.” Below that, the user has indicated that they woke up at 11:30 and went to sleep at 1:30. Below that, they have colored 4 water drops out of 5 and given the day a score of 4 stars out of 5. Below that is a timetable for the day, which is filled with “Shop” from 13:00 - 14:30, “Study” from 15:30 - 17:00, 20:00 - 20:30, and 22:00 - 23:30, and “Korean” from 18:00 - 20:00. The right page is as follows:

There are two columns on this page. The left column’s top row has three sections - “Date - 13,” “D-Day - Mar,” “Study Hours - blank.” (Transcription note: The “D-Day” blank is used for the day of the week instead of the proper use, and the days of the week are labelled in French rather than English.) The second row of that column is labelled “Check Point” and has two bullet points “vote” and “micro HW.” Below that is a small slot to put a song of the day, which has been left blank. Below is the checklist for the day. It includes both the priority and the item as follows:

HI - drop off ballot

HI - comp. pol lecture

MED - micro HW (lab)

MED - micro HW (lecture)

HI - Korean HW

LO - religion series plan

Above this checklist is a doodle of a man sleeping.

The right column of this page starts on its top row with the slot “Goal,” which is filled with the phrase “micro HW.” Below that, the user has left the wake time, sleep time, water consumption, and daily score fields blank. Below those is a timetable for the day, which is filled with “Vote” from 9:00 - 11:00, “Study” from 12:00 - 14:00 and 14:00 - 18:00. The bottom of the page has been censored with two blue sticky notes that read “Plans for the day! Censored for safety reasons.”]

[funkyfreshramblings]

A Story Twenty Years in the Making

CW: Swearing, sex, transphobia (Look, I'm not proud of who I was).

Shortly after I was born, a cousin of mine was as well. My mother took me to a store where she looked to buy a dress for her new niece to celebrate her birth. A woman stopped and looked at my mother, baby Devon in the stroller, dress in her hand, and curiously spoke up.

"Excuse me miss, but you know that you have a boy, right?" The woman shopping, presumably for her own daughter, had said to my mother.

"Of course I know I have a son. What about it?" My mother said in response.

"Well, that's a dress you're holding. Why would you be buying that for your son?" The woman puzzled.

My mother, quick as a whip and smarter than most people I know today, responded without a second thought.

"I'm letting him experiment with his sexuality."

---

At twelve (12) years old, I became aware of this really weird website. You see, everyone was talking about it, a schoolyard rumour we didn't dare to talk about in front of the teachers. The mythical status of this website was nothing to scoff at, students would huddle around and talk about their findings. It was like an ARG, a new puzzle added every day. The school was rife with these conversations, and everyone was hooked.

I'm of course talking about Pornhub.

Obligatory "don't go on Pornhub unless you're the legal viewing age in your country" aside (even though I'm aware those warnings stop nobody), I too became a curious mind. One day, when my parents had slipped out of the house and I was alone, I pulled it up on my computer upstairs. What I say fascinated me, women and men having sex.

Sex. Woah. Penises, vaginas, anuses. There was everything on this website. Everything. Including this one tab which I didn't dare click.

This one category had what appears to be two men on it. I assumed it was two men, after all neither of them had pronounced breasts like all the women had. And the title of the category? Gay. 'What the fuck does that mean?' twelve-year-old (12) me thought. I ignored it, thought it was weird, and continued on.

In the back of my mind, I was curious. A few weeks after watching straight porn and being mostly repulsed by how awful the women screamed in those videos, I tried it. I clicked on the category tab and was immediately hit with my first exposure to the gay community.

'Twink? Bear? Fisting? Now that's nasty.' I was curiously disgusted but clicked on anyways. "Twinks" looked cute, so I clicked there. Wait, cute? Did I really think these guys were cute? Like I thought my girlfriend was cute?

The video was, simply put, less aggressive than straight porn. Holy shit was straight porn aggressive. It terrified me how much those women screamed like the men were killing them by inserting their penises too far into their bodies. But gay porn looked softer. It was sweeter, with more love. After all, sex is about love, right? Forgive my younger self, you see. He clearly did not understand that nothing in porn is about love. But hey, when working with a half deck, you have to make the cards work.

So I watched gay porn over straight porn. That doesn't mean I'm gay! But wait, if gay porn is between two men, what is porn between a woman and a man. What's porn between two women? Never mind, I'm not that curious about two women together.

A quick Google search sent me down the most soul-searching adventure I'd ever partake in. At least, up until this point.

I soon learned what gay meant, what straight meant, what lesbian meant. You mean boys liking other boys was normal? Girls can like other girls? Wait, you can like boys and girls?

Oh, wait, you can also not be sexually attracted to anyone.

Asexual was a term I first read those years ago, and I soon thought that it described me. See, up until this point, women never interested me sexually. I was twelve (12). Sex really never crossed my mind, even when it was supposed to. But I was watching porn, I thought!

Doesn't matter. I didn't want to be part of those acts. That's what made me ace, I thought.

My lord was I wrong. (Not about ace people, but about my identity. This is where things get juicy. And chuddy.)

---

Okay, so cut to two years later. I'm fourteen (14), in grade ten (10) during Art class. One of my friends sat beside me, my ex across from me, and I hated Art class. Why'd I taken this god-awful course again? Regardless, as I sat there and thought, I thought about my bullying up until high school.

I filled out as a kid. I mean that literally, I grew tall and wide really quickly. No one fucked with me when I was in high school. No one wanted to, and I faded to the background.

But in elementary school, I was the new kid. Backing up to 2009, eight-year-old (8) Devon moved. I would celebrate my ninth (9th) birthday in a class where no one knew me or no one cared. Well, that's not true. One kid cared. Bless that kid. Regardless, 9-year-old (9) me had a target on his back. A big one, and it quickly meant I was being bullied.

My mother is terrifying. I use bold there because I don't think italics can describe just how terrifying mama-bear is when she's angry. After finding out that I was being bullied, she pulled into the school and chewed out the principal. And the parents. And the kids. Hell hath no fury like a mother who went through the shit mine did. So quickly the bullying died down.

Stopped? No, but quieted. My new friends surrounded me in a wonderful bubble of love, but that didn't mean they also didn't pick on me. The most common insult? Gay.

Gay? Like, porn gay? No no no, I said. I'm not gay.

Cut back to 14-year-old (14) me, thinking throughout Art class. I swear Ms. Taylor had it out for me. Oh, right, gay.

'Holy shit.' I thought.

'Wait. They're right, I'm gay. I like men. Holy shit I really like men. Men are hot, and I want to be with one so bad. But I live in this crap town of conservatives (my parents taught me right, conservatives are some of the shittiest people on the planet after all).'

Okay, so I'm gay. I figured that out at the very least! Now I have to tell people.

Oh. Fuck. I have to tell people.

Coming out. Hell, as I like to call it. First to my friends. My friends would understand, after all, I had a pansexual friend. What the fuck does pansexual mean? Never mind that Devon, focus on your own damn self for a second.

Oh. My. God. I have to tell people.

I pulled up my big boy pants and blurted out in the middle of class...

Nothing. What did you expect?

I waited 'till the next morning. That made sense.

---

"Hi, Sierrah!" I said to my colourful friend. Her hair was always a different colour every month and still is. I wish I had half the hair strength she must have.

"Hey, Devon!" She said, blue backpack on her back, meeting up with me to walk to school in the morning.

"I have something to tell you. I'm gay." She looked at me and squealed before wrapping me in a big hug.

"I'm so proud of you!" Okay, one down. A lot more to go.

My best friend in high school used to be someone who I absolutely despised. We bonded over our shared dislike of our shared ex. We became really close. Telling him was pretty easy. Okay, two down.

Remember that girl I sat beside during Art? Not my ex, the one I bonded with my best friend over disliking, I meant the girl sitting beside me. Well, let me tell you.

No one can give me a reception nearly half as good as what she did when I told her.

"Sara, I'm gay," I said. Less than five (5) seconds later, my face was buried in the tits of Sara. That was... fun. Not sexual in the slightest, it was fun. She was warm, and she loved me. I could tell that as a friend, Sara would become the most important person in my life. Thank you, Sara. Should you ever read this.

I hope someone reads this.

Anyone?

Moving on, I eventually told all my friends that day. None of them gave a shit! Cool!

My parents.

Oh no. My parents were next.

I'm skipping that part, it's no longer relevant.

Sorry. (Not sorry in the slightest.)

---

So I graduated the gay kid of 2018. Yay! Seventeen-year-old (17) me made it to grad!

But before I did, I need to preface this part of the story. I was, unfortunately, a fan of Soygon of Asskad. And Blairina Weiss.

Shame. Shame. Shame. Not a day goes by where I'm not sorry for my actions during this period of my life. I am so profusely sorry for the racism and transphobia I perpetuated during this period of my life. I was even homophobic. God damn it, Devon, what the fuck are you doing?

I am now a proud socialist. University helped. So did Vaush, and BadBunny (who's chat might be reading this. Henlo Nicole! Henlo chat!).

Scream at me about Vaush later.

Okay, where was I? Right, grad. University applications.

I made it into the University of Toronto Mississauga. Canada's best university. One of the best universities in the world. Holy shit, I should be more proud of myself for that. I am proud. I made it there, and as I write this, I'm on my last year.

Here's to me becoming a med student soon, I hope!

So school happened. I went to school as a shy gay kid with undiagnosed anxiety problems. That wouldn't last, and soon my anxiety was written in the prescriptions I was handed over the counter for Lexapro. This is where I met my first friend from university.

He will remain unnamed for legal reasons.

He introduced me to one of the most beautiful men I've met to this date.

S. (Name redacted for reasons you need not know. Not legal reasons. Personal ones. Please respect this decision.)

Woah, was this guy just... hot. He was an athlete, no way he'd like me. He probably also sleeps around, and I don't want that.

Boy was I wrong. I soon found out that S was very much into me. I was someone's crush. Wow!

That eventually turned into a... relationship. You get the gist. Affirmation.

I was very, very gay. S helped me understand that I was very very gay.

Okay, so eighteen-year-old (18) Devon was gay. That was very clear.

So that's the end of the story, right?

No.

We just crossed the halfway point.

---

Cut to twenty (20). I am gay, an active chatter in BadBunny's (Twitch streamer, not singer) discord, and really really confused.

See, progressive streamers like BadBunny typically have features to add yourself to a role on Discord that would tell everyone your pronouns when they clicked on your profile. This is a really good way to affirm pronouns of everyone, so I'm down.

Well, I do have one problem. Any/all isn't listed here. Wait.

Wait...

Any? All?

Why do I feel like this?

I'm cis. Let me make that clear. I am cisgendered. I identify as a man, I was born a man, and I think I will always be a man. I think.

But I know pronouns don't necessarily tell you someone's gender. They is a really popular pronoun for all sorts of non-binary identities, all of which are different from each other. So pronouns do not equal gender.

Can I really use they/them, she/her, he/him, fae/faer, fawn/fawn, etc/etc. all while being cis? I think so, let's try it! I don't know how to describe my gender, all I know is I'm apathetic to my pronouns.

Cut to a TikTok video. I learned my fucking gender identity from a TikTok video. This is why representation is important.

"Gender Apathy" we're the words coming from this person's mouth. She? He? Them? Didn't matter, they didn't care. I didn't care.

We didn't care.

Holy fuck.

---

Google has been a really important resource for me as an academic student. Wikipedia articles affirm my suspicions before I move onto Google Scholar to look up articles.

I'm fucking kidding.

Fuck Google Scholar.

But Google did introduce me to the world of fandom wikis.

Is gender wiki a thing? LGBTQ+ wiki?

As it turns out, it is.

Gender Apathy is an article there, as well as many many other identities. If you're question, do some keyword searches. You'll never know what you find.

Anyways, Gender Apathy. Cisapathetic, which I kind of interpret as someone who identifies as cisgender but doesn't really care? I guess? This is all still confusing, but whatever. Cisapathetic.

I quickly shared this with all my friends. I found something new out!

But we aren't done yet.

---

Cut to a little while later. It's Pride month, 2021. This month, if you happen to read this as soon as it goes up! Someone on TikTok is making Pride moths.

Fucking TikTok.

Moths were, at one point, a really popular meme online. Lämp. Gen Z humour will be the end of us all.

So naturally, people found a love for moths. Great, that's lead us to this point. I notice during these videos that these moths are pretty. I want one, or rather, two.

I want the modern Pride moth. The trans flag and a black and brown stripe were included on this modern Pride flag to signal that BIPOC are central to Pride, and need to be celebrated and that our trans friends need our help. Need our platform. Need our rights too.

And I wanted the Gender Apathetic moth. After all, it was something new I discovered! Well, I noticed something in the comments while I was requesting a Gender Apathetic moth from this creator (they were open to suggestions, so please don't heckle me about it). One commenter said the words "are you doing a Neptunic/Uranic/Saturnic moth as well?" What the hell are those?

To the LGBTA wiki!

Neptunic is described as a sexuality "attracted to women, feminine non-binary people and neutral non-binary people."

Saturnic is described as a sexuality "attracted to androgynous aligned non-binary people."

Uranic is the one I'm really curious about then. I'm attracted to men, after all. Uranic is described as a sexuality "attracted to men, masculine non-binary people and neutral non-binary people."

Woah.

So let me back up a little bit.

When I had access to Twitter (they suspended me for defending my sexuality from someone who was saying gay men all have AIDS, so thanks Twitter) I once made a thread talking about how I didn't feel comfortable with calling myself gay.

"But Devon," I hear you say, "the whole first half of this story was dedicated to you realizing you were gay! How can you say that after wasting so much of our fucken' time?"

Give me a minute, dear reader. Let me explain what I said in this thread.

As I type this out, I recognize the transphobia I had against trans-men even while typing out that thread. I want to say, right here, right now, that my sexuality is trans-inclusive. Men with vaginas are still men. I am still very much attracted to men with vaginas. But this thread still falls on transphobic remarks. Once again, I profusely apologize for my past. I am currently working towards being a better person to my trans friends, both online and offline. I am doing my best to be better. I love you all, and I thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this.

Oh, and U of T, if you're reading this, before you even think about kicking me out for admitting my previous bigotry, I urge you to think about your staff first. Jordan Peterson still has a job and makes the campus trans-exclusive as he continues to teach. Catch yourself before you come for me, a student doing his best to be better.

Okay, so back to the Twitter thread.

I essentially said something along the lines of this:

I really struggle with calling myself gay when in reality, I'm only attracted to people with penises, and who lack vaginas and breasts. I would have sex with non-binary people who have penises. So am I really just "gay?"

But in a lot more words. Before I continue, I want to take the time to explain how this comment is transphobic, and why I am sorry and why I want to explain that I no longer feel this way. Okay? So, here's the short of it:

I go by the term gay, but by saying I'm explicitly only attracted to people with penises while liking men, I was indirectly making the point that trans-men are not men if they too do not have penises.

This is not true. Trans men are men, and I have come to realize my attraction for trans men as well, despite genitalia. My sexuality encompasses men of all kinds, and non-binary people who are masculine aligned or neutrally aligned. Once again, I can only apologize and do better.

I am sorry for my previous transphobia. I hope I can make it better by acknowledging it and doing my best to avoid these implications ever again.

Okay, now that we have all of that out of the way, let's talk Uranic again.

Uranic really does describe me. I feel it in every bone of my body, that I really do find myself sexually attracted to even non-binary people.

So, gay is out, uranic is in.

Where does that leave me today?

---

When I started this post, I explained how I was a cisgendered gay man who was a liberal who almost fell down the alt-right pipeline. But as I type this post, not only has my identity evolved, but so has my political ideology. I am a cisapathetic, uranic man who still uses the term gay in casual conversation because it's easier even though it doesn't really describe me, socialist.

BadBunny/Nicole, chat, if you're reading this, thank you. You helped me a ton in discovering socialism and to reject ideas of capitalism that only serve to continue the systematic racism against black people, the systematic transphobia that kills trans people, and even the systematic homophobia I face as a "gay" man.

Wow, that was long. Really long. If you made it this far, give yourself a pat on the back. You just read the life history of a twenty-year-old (20) and how he came to understand his identity.

I love you all.

Signed,

Devon.

FunkyFreshHomo on Discord.