#and it's been only a MONTH since we first caught the cancer

[unreadpoppy]

Nebulizing a dog is harder than it sounds let me tell you that

[strrykais]

fourth of july

idol : stray kids // kim seungmin song : fourth of july - sufjan stevens warnings : death word count : 749

there you sat, in the white room, the sound of a constant beeping filling the stuffy room. you didn't want to believe, the person you care for the most in the world was sitting there, slowly dying and there was absolutely nothing you or the doctors could do to help him.

it has always been you two since you were little, he was your father and mother figure. and now here he was dying, stupid cancer, stupid fucking cancer. 

you didn’t want him to see you cry, you didn't want him to feel any worse than he probably already felt when he first found out months ago. you both caught it too late, you felt like if you just pushed him to go see the doctors earlier then maybe you both wouldn’t be in this position.

“hey kiddo.” seungmin's voice calls out to you, refusing to look at him. you didn't want to remember him like this, so pale, so hollow. you wanted to remember him as the outgoing, fun loving brother you always knew. “look at me.”

you slowly look up to see his smiling face, though his eyes had no shine. “why are you crying?” hands flying up to your cheeks not even noticing that tears began to fall down.

“i just.. i just can’t go on without you. i have no one.” you sniffle, hand reaching out to hold onto his hand.

“im sorry kiddo, but you are strong, and so so smart, you will do great things, i just know it. mom and dad knew it.” seungmin squeezes your hand as tight as his body would let him. 

“i know but it's been us since they died, and i can't lose you too. i'll be all alone.” 

“you have meatloaf.” he smiles

“that fat cat isn't gonna help me with boy problems.” you roll your eyes laughing with him.

“no he totally would do better than i would. i would just beat them up. now that i think about it, that old fat cat would too.” seungmin laughs a little too hard, coughing out harshly. running to his table to get him a glass of water, you help him drink. 

seungmin stares at you wanting to remember every little detail of your face before saying “you know you will be just fine, i love you kiddo.” 

going in gently you reach to give him a hug, he returns it planting a kiss on the top of your head. “i love you too min.”

it was raining the night he died, it was also raining right now as you watched the casket lower into the dirt, you didn't care that the rain was soaking your clothes. you were just happy it was hiding your tears, you didn't want to cry, you didn't want the last thing he could hear was your sobs.

you stood there after many of both your friends and long distance relatives said their goodbyes, giving condolences and saying ‘if you need anything i'm here.’ you could care less because where were they when you needed them when he were still alive. people only care when you're dead.

what felt like hours, you standing watching, hoping it was some sick prank, clothes sticking to your body, shivers running down your spine. hair a complete mess down your face, while the rain still continues to beat you down. only for it to stop, you look up and see a bright yellow umbrella covering you, turning you see a man who you would have to say resembles a fox, now the one being soaked by the rain.

“you’ll catch a cold standing out here like that. you should know seungmin would beat you for getting sick.” he smiles, eyes scrunching with it. “come on, let me take you home.” he holds out a hand waiting for you to grab.

“do i know you?” you continued to look at him up and down as he was starting to get as soaked as you were.

smiling once again, “no i know your brother, we are really good friends. come on, he wanted me to show you something. but first let's get you some dry clothes. yeah?” he started flicking his hands in a ‘come here’ motion. sighing, you slide your wet hand into his letting him pull you away. before going another he stops turning and yells over to the hole in the ground, “see you later seungmin, ill take good care of her, like i promised.”

1k extravaganza

ⓒstrrykais

[genevawrenn]

I am just going to put this at the top : this post is going to be a long vent about missing Technoblade, please scroll on if you do not wish to read.

We are coming up on two years without him.

We are also coming up on three years since I discovered his content.

I thought I was at the point I could watch one of his videos tonight, as I used to often do when I am doing tasks or writing he was always the background noise I used. I remember calling into work when he streamed for the sheer sake of enjoying them while they happened the few times I caught them before...well. I think you know. He was the reason my passion for writing came back to life and I believed I could actually follow my lifelong dream of eventually publishing a story.

But I suppose the part I always forget about grief is the absence of the unique spirit that person brought to your life. I found his content and engaged with it instantly, developing one of the longest running fixations I have had in a good while. The sheer excitement I'd have getting the notification he went live for one of his rare streams.

I don't think it truly sunk in when he announced his diagnosis. I remember discussing it with the irl friend who got me into watching him and both of us laughed, saying he's strong enough to fight off anything.

A few months pass with his rare posts and there was always this tiny little bit of intuition I had where he never told us what severity of cancer it was. Like he was a very private guy, yes, but this seemed extra...odd.

Then I remember the way my heart sunk when 'so long nerds' popped into my notification bar. The dashing of my heart against the floor texting people as I tearfully listened to Technodad tell us the words his son Alex wished for us to hear.

Its been a long two years. Its been great ones, tbh. I found a new passion with QSMP and Hermitcraft after the finishing of DSMP [tho c!Techno will forever remain close to my heart]. I kept writing, with over half a million words in published fics on ao3 and several WIP including 3 original novels.

But the only one I ever wanted to thank for helping me find my creativity again I can't, and I never will be able to.

I miss Technoblade.

I will never stop missing him.

I wish he could have laughed with his friends for many years yet, being silently proud of their accomplishments while he messed with people on the QSMP. I wish he could have had another MCC with friends.

I wish his unique soul wasn't taken from us so soon, as we weren't done following our hero yet.

But the only thing I can do now is continue to speak his tales. The first book I properly publish, the gratitude page is going to be addressed to him. I will continue to tell others about his accomplishments and tell them to go watch his content on his Youtube channel [get him to 17 million!]! Buy some of his merch [when it comes back in stock]! Support his family & friends!

Though he would call us nerds for crying, I think its beautiful how many lives he touched and how many thousands mourned his passing. He was a light all corners of the MCYT sphere and beyond saw and respected, and not too many creators can claim such an honour.

I'll always be a Voice at my core. Even if I spend my time these days as a crow, a huevito, a ferret, a tubling, a doozer and many more, my heart will forever belong to Technoblade.

Please keep creating art and writing in his name. I love scrolling the fanart tags and adore every piece I come across with my favourite piglin in them. Please, please, please keep saying his name. Sing his legends. Make references, continue the jokes, hang out in one of his friends chats and support the people he loved.

Support those who are still here, even if your heart hurts.

It's only painful because we all loved him so much, which is a beautiful type of sorrow.

[jonmyblaze]

The first night since they escaped from Tartarus.

While percabeth were blissfully cuddling in a United bed in Percy's bedroom. (The two were practically inseparable. Clinging against each other. Even in slumber they still clung to each other)

In the dream of Percy and Annabeth, things were different.

After getting over the weirdness of sharing a dream (it didn't take too long they just dreaded what was coming) a room appeared, it was a restaurant.

Fine dining, far different than the ragged clothing that were on the demigods metntal bodies

It was only a few minutes until the dread of the unknown finally gave way to clarity with a single voice

"Hello demigods.... or should I say little godlings now" Hera giggled smiled and holding a wine glass.

"I suppose a little bit of a congratulations are in order. Not many survived Tartarus and live to tell the tale, much less mortals.. oh no that won't do.

you aren't mortals now. You're immortal. both of you."

Percy and Annabeth looked at the goddess of marriage in shock. They had noticed that they had bled Gold more than red,that their crafts and skills were far stronger. Far more honed and efficient

"Immortal but how?"

"we just got back,-"

Oh hell,"

The queen of the Olympians laughed.

Before the exacerbated demigods annoyance finally gave way to an explanation.

"Come now, haven't either of you heard the tale Demophon of Eleusis?"

"But that's impossible! it was a failure"annabeth's mind was racing faster than light.

Unfortunately her mouth was not as fast

'not quite child of wisdom.

Although it may have been botched, the method was not the issue, for there are many ways to burn away mortality off a demigod.

You! dear Perseus, burned away so much of your own life through your little dip In The Styx,

you, Annabeth ran yourself for ragged looking for Percy after my kidnapping of him...

Sorry by the way, I did not expect it to take as long got caught up in some godly affairs , you know queen of the gods is kind of busy.

, no hard feelings.. "

to an immortal like Hera 6 months was a second later in the grand scheme of things.

There's a lot of hard feelings in the daughter of Athena. But she was too lost for words, so shocked at having the apology and her mind was still refusing to comprehend the fact that they were Gods now.

Annabeth was Still contemplating committing high treason. If only she had a dagger or a sword in this brainscape

" It's funny, both of you eradicated decades off of your life holding up the sky,

wandering the labyrinth,

questing for the the fleece and being in the proximity of my dear husband's lightning bolt."

TThat received some confusion from the new godlings

"A human's mere touch of the bolt would have disintegrated, while short-term proximity Is effectively cancerous. Affecting your mortality little by little, even if you were unable to use it effectively it would kill you.

You were already on track record for godhood. After the Titan War but after now walking through Tartarus. getting MARRIED down there! Khaos! having sex down there!

spending nearly 19 years down there. Discovering that time works different between realms!

making an alliance with multiple Titans that could rival evet the Olympians 12, frankly absurd!

And now you ask me?

How you burned away all of your mortality And ascended.

Is it any Wonder that you burned so much of what made you human, sacrifice so much to survive together.

I could feel your bond down there.

And just how tied it became, every act of holy Union I felt like a drug to my system, it may have been 19 days for you to March out of Tartarus

but I felt every year you were down there. You two combined marched through absolute hell, our equivalent to the Christian inferno that Dante's so eloquently described. And yet combined you manage to survive.

Quite honestly I'm impressed!"Hera said, raising a glass of holy ambrosia. A smirk growing on her face

[velvetsands]

2024: milestone after milestone

living with my partner after two years long distance was such a nice reward, and confirmed that everything was right

realised my dream of going to the australian open

and going to attica(!!) and having a kangaroo meat pie

before coming back to the table and getting engaged(!!!!!!)

unfortunately we wanted to elope but family had other ideas

leading us to plan our wedding in just three weeks

it was such a great day but yeah, not what a little girl dreams of

anyway!

turned 30 on the 2/2 - glamped/biked around riesling country in adelaide which was goooorgeous

i was conferred my phd on the 22/2 which was cool

recieved dean's commendation for outstanding theses

submitted our manuscript for publication after so much tweaking

married on the 3/3

so yeah it was pretty full-on time tbh

we packed up our entire home, facebook marketplace was our best friend

my husband flew to saudi two weeks later, sending us back into the trenches of long-distance with a new challenge of time zones

i started my long goodbye to alcohol on a trip with friends to kangaroo island - lots of wine, laughter, and swimming with dolphins!

packed up my suitcase, ready to live out of it for the next three months and moved back into my childhood room in brisbane

spent easter with my sister, our grandparents and their siblings which was so lovely

went to san diego for a conference and for some reason, we were invited to the first class bar area on the plane (i can only assume an attendant heard my colleague and i talking about our cancer research which was very unexpected and nice)

flew to sydney for two weeks to complete requested experiments from reviewers and said goodbyes to all my friends

and finally received my saudi visa after much faffing around

my first business class experience to saudi was the qatar qsuite and it was heaven 40k feet above earth

all our stuff from adelaide arrived a few days after me, i set up the entire house

the compound is amazing, so much green space and although it hit 46C in summer, the lack of humidity makes it bearable

lack of alcohol was hard at first but then you just don't seem to think about it? there are tough days where you wish you had a whiskey sure but you get through it

worked on the paper revisions back and forth for months on end

we went to paris and bordeaux just before the olympics and stayed in chateaus and drank beautiful wine and did lots of fine dining

the saudi way of life is very much "inshallah", it's not very conducive to a western way of working which has been a steep learning curve

being here finally gave me the TIME to plan, order and cook whatever my heart desired instead of feeling like a total chore and hindrance during my phd

we went to turkey and bought rugs, drank, explored the landmarks, and went back to my hammam that i dreamt about re-visiting since 2018

saudi racing is fun but as no drinking or gambling, you just sort of sit around and gasbag with friends the entire time hahaha

the women like to engage with me and ask lots of question and the kids like to show off their english and be super cheeky with me!

in general, saudi's are the kindest people and feel the need to impress! same with the pakistani and indian expats!

there is such a sense of non-urgency yet things happen at the last minute - it's truly a wonder

i don't dress much differently to australia which made me realise i am quite modest (and that's fine). i try not to wear an abaya to show expat women that you can still be #stylish

i recieved lots of compliments from saudi women on my outfits which makes me feel FANTASTIC

i did however have to buy new racewear for here ofc which is fine

we went back to paris for racing of the arc at longchamp and explored a bit more, caught up with friends, lots of good food and museums, climbed the eiffel tower etc.

started doing mini triathlons are managed to get a sub-1hr 400m swim/8km bike/2.5km run which i was stoked about

made friends with someone at the australian embassy which was been wonderful - we went to a gala dinner onsite and i think that's a once in a lifetime experience

flew back to australia for the holidays which was again, another insane trip of three weeks in a suitcase

brisbane for a few days, to adelaide for racing (we were guests of honor which was hilarious) and to catchup with our friends and chicken schnitzels; back to brisbane and then to sydney

for my graduation gift, we booked a hotel under the sydney harbour bridge which was like a staycation in our own city. that was such a treasured part of my year

the uni dress people gave me a faulty phd bonnet which was too late to be fixed which resulting in a botched graduation photo with VC :( i got it replaced it after the ceremony but i still haven't recovered from the embarassment and anger!!!!!!

we flew out that night to hong kong for the international racing and catch ups! saw romantic warrior win up close <3

and then flew home just in time for christmas (we had a moo deng angel for our fiddle leaf) and spent christmas at the ritz carlton in riyadh which was unparallelled luxury

oh the manuscript was finally published on the 12/12 in nature communications (v prestigious, v proud) but bc of the embargo, i missed out on doing all public inteviews and tv appearances as i was no longer in australia :---(((((( honestly, the whole process sucked and really jaded me as a scientist - i know it's publish or perish but they just make it so demanding and hard

also they charged us 10k USD to publish which is an actual joke as they don't do any print versions, we could used that to perform more experiments

oh the patent was finalised too so now i can say i have officially found a potential cure for cancer

in bed at 10:30pm on new years because honestly, i think we celebrated every week of this year in a different shape or form

2025

just not sure hey!

i can't seem to get a job here try as i might

going to sweden to mid-jan to ski (read: apres bc i don't ski lol) with friends from australia and america! i am scared of the cold but we shall see

saudi cup is a big time here as the richest horse race in the world

we may be moving compounds which is slightly annoying

our cancer therapy will move into clinical trials in the first half of the year so i am really hoping that we can do some good in the world and make a difference to some families

we have tickets to the imola and monaco f1 gps!!! hoping to do lake como between the racing and we have a yacht for monaco!!!!!!

we may be moving to *** mid-year but stay tuned/fingers crossed

but other than that, inshallah it will be a good year!

[quxxn0fhxarts]

black coffee and cigarettes - South Park AU (Aged Up - 18+ : Chapter 1 - Conformist on Goth Action

AN: This is my first ever South Park fic. Go easy. I have only been a fan since 2018, so forgive me if I miss some lore. I know Liane Cartman was intersex but then it was a cover-up or something, just ignore it. Enjoy!

IMPORTANT: Everyone has been aged up to 18, links to AO3 and Wattpad at the end of the post. Photo and Fic Cover Made with Mage.Space June 28th, 2008 11:10 PM

Cabin Salmon at Camp Stark, South Park, Colorado

   Michael hated going to Camp, but he had to go every summer. At least Pete was there most summers... but he and his family went to Florida until August. He hated the types of people that went to Camp, conformists, jocks, Christians... He wished his parents didn't force him to go... he wanted to be at The Village Inn with Henrietta and Firkle.

   At least the Camp's Activities were mostly optional. He could mostly avoid outdoor activities by making friendship bracelets or arts and crafts. He was glad they removed those bigger 40-person cabins to a more intimate three-person cabin. The only thing Michael hated more than jocks was a group of them altogether. 

   Per his luck, he was stuck with two Jock, but he considered Kyle Broflovski an okay person... still didn't like him because he was a conformist. Kenny McCormick was a neutral guy; he couldn't get into many cliques since his family was poor. They had been at Camp for a few weeks, and Michael was going crazy.

   Kyle wouldn't let him smoke in the cabin. He would say, 'It messes with my sinuses,' and 'I don't want to have my lungs all shriveled and black from secondhand smoke.' Michael thought the guy needed something to vent or complain about. Kyle was always venting or speaking about something.

   Kenny wasn't as annoying as Kyle. He didnt talk much... the only thing that bothered Michael about Kenny was that he constantly was talking about sex, jerking off in his bed, talking about 'big tittied Asians.' It was exhausting. It was obvious that Kenny fetishized asians, and Michael was half Korean.

   The one that pissed Michael off the most was when Kyle said, 'How do you not have lung cancer by now after smoking since we were 10'. He wasn't so mad at it because he was scared. He started smoking because he wanted to minimize the time he was on this earth... He has always heard it, and he is sick of it. It also pissed Michael off when Kyle would say, 'That's your sign to quit smoking,' when Michael would have coughing fits.

   Though his body and condition irritated Michael, coming to Camp was always hard for him. He would get in trouble if he were caught smoking, not that he didn't want to get in trouble, but his things would be searched, and they would make him throw his cigarette stash away.

   Because of this, he would have to find another way to keep his mouth busy. He had oral fixation, so he had to distract himself by chewing gum or something. If he ran out of things to do to keep his fixation at bay, he would start biting his tongue or nails to the point of hurting himself... and he did this every summer.

   Probably the most taxing was how long he would wear his binder. It was summer, so he couldn't wear baggy jackets to hide his chest. Michael was born intersex. It was only another thing he had to suffer from in this world. Not to mention, his bust was big, so he had massive back pain.

   From a young age, his parents forced him to identify as male, which now he was cool with... it just fucked him up whenever he would have 'female' problems. His mother would gaslight him into thinking he was imagining it, and his father knew nothing about vaginas. He had to learn how to care for himself at that time of the month through blogs online.

   Michael took a good hot shower after Kyle snuck out for the night, Clyde scored some liquor, and there was going to be a rager in the forest. So, Michael felt safe enough to take off his binder and take a nice hot shower. 

He thought that he had plenty of time before he had to put back on his binder. he was going to put on a shirt and hug a pillow to go to sleep... he was drying off, going to his side of the room, finding a jumbo shirt to put on... but then something hit the floor, and he flinched.

   "Holy fuck..." Kyle said wide-eyed, standing in the doorframe with Kenny just behind him.

   "Holy shit..." Kenny yelped as he dropped his bottle of beer, "I... never thought I would witness Double E tits in real life..." Kenny was so moved he almost teared up, "They are amazing..."

   "Fuck!" Michael's squeak of panic brought the boys back to reality, "Don't fucking look, you pervs," Michael yelled.

   Kyle and Kenny had returned to the cabin because they had forgotten their phones. They wanted to see if they had received any service in the forest. After this interaction, they forgot to take their phones and quickly left the cabin. They didn't stay at the rager for long because they were too worried about Michael's wrath... they knew they would get in trouble as soon as they got back. Kenny finally just said they should go back and get it over with.

   When they returned, Michael wasn't in the cabin, but they smelled cigarettes, so they knew he couldn't be far. "Just stay here, okay... I will deal with him,"

   "What, why?" Kenny asked, wanting to see Michael's knockers again.

   "Tits make you go crazy. this is sensitive... just let me deal with it, okay?" Kyle said, and Kenny nodded, headed to the bathroom to rub one out to the memory of those EE cups.

   Kyle left the cabin and followed the smoke, finding Michael close in the forest. He was leaning against a tree. The moon was full, so it was easy to see. He was crying...

   "Just leave me alone, Broflovski," He muttered, but Kyle ignored him, sitting across from him. Kyle saw that Michael had finished the carton and downed another pack.

   "It's um... it's not that big of a deal," Kyle started, and Michael glared at him, "n-not that we saw you naked... I mean, I don't see you any differently. You are brave,"

   "Brave? What the fuck are you going on about, Perv,"

   "I mean... being trans in a small little mountain town like South Park... you're fucking amazing,"

   "I'm not transgender, you fuckwad," Michael pinched the bridge of his nose.

   "Then you... I'm sorry I'm confused," Kyle sighed.

   "This isn't a fucking moment Broflovski..." Michael sniffled, "It's none of your business."

   "No... I mean, you're right. It's none of my business. I just... I feel like you need to talk to someone," Kyle said, and Michael sighed. "I have been walked in on plenty of times. I usually get hella embarrassed and sleep it off... and you are crying," Kyle said, and Michael huffed.

   "You're a jock, I am goth... we are not friends,"

   "Well... I may not be your friend, but you're my friend," Kyle said with a smile... Michael fucking hated it when he smiled. he hated that he was so nice. He didn't like the butterflies he felt when Kyle was so nice to him.

   "Fuck You, douchebag..." Michael pulled his legs into a hug and rested his head on his knees. "I am intersex..."

   "Oh, okay," Kyle shrugged.

   "You said that like it's normal," Michael scoffed.

   "I mean... it isn't normal, but it isn't that rare, but Cartman's mom is intersex," Kyle said.

   "She is?" Michael raised an eyebrow. "Is that why Cartman is such a fucking asshole,"

   "Maybe, he has always been an asshole," Kyle shrugged and blushed, trying not to look at Michael's chest. He knew he did something because he looked like he did normally. Everyone thought he had big pecs or was a little chunky. "Can... can I ask how you hide them?"

   Michael blushed and looked away, "a chest binder... it's like a tank top, but it compresses better."

   "Is that safe?" Kyle asked, and Michael raised an eyebrow, "I mean... if it compresses, then I am sure it might cut off circulation. You have really big boobs," Kyle blushed, "Er, I mean... just is it safe?"

   "Yeah... it's safe," Michael couldn't look Kyle in the eye. "It's irritating at the moment because I wear it so much. I usually get some heat rash at Camp. But normally, I can hide it with a less intense binder and a hoodie,"

   "That is bad, Michael..." Kyle felt bad, "you don't have to wear it when it's just you, Kenny, and me... it's not healthy to have it on all the time,"

   "Yeah, right, with McCormick around? He already tries to get in my pants because I am Asian, and he is a fucking sex freak," Michael dryly laughed but then immediately froze as Kyle grabbed his wrist softly.

   "You don't have to worry about him, okay? He doesn't mean any harm. I will make sure he doesn't perv out on you as long as you feel free to rest without the binder," Kyle said. Michael was happy that it was dark enough to cover his red face.

   "O-okay,"

———- 1:29 AM    Michael thought he had a vivid wet dream at first—the ones where you can feel touch in your dreams—but then he fluttered his eyes open, hearing an uncharacteristic high-pitched panting—aka moaning.

   He looked up at the ceiling, inhaling and exhaling rigidly. He fluttered his eyes and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

   Michael felt someone between his legs. he didn't have to look down to see who it was. He brought a pillow to his face and bit it, holding back a moan as Kenny started rubbing his ring finger and middle finger up and down Michael's pussy.

   Michael fluttered his eyes to look up at the top bunk. he saw Kyle's hand dangling and his slight snore.

   "What the fuck are you doing, Pervert," Michael tried to sound threatening, but he bit his lip, and his entire body was trembling with pleasure. He looked down to see Kenny glance up, giving Michael a little smirk.

   "Finding your clitoris," Kenny said as he had been with Cartman's Mom before, her clitoris was easy to find as it was fused with her cock. Michael wasn't fused. He had a cunt where his testicles should be while the testicles were still inside of him. His clit was just below the base of his cock. "Want me to stop?" He said while pressing Michael's cock to the side and flicking his tongue on the clit, quickly reaching up to cover Michael's mouth as he grunted loud and bucked his hips.

   "Fuck..." Michael bit on Kenny's finger, whimpered, glaring up at Kyle as he failed his job not even two hours after he promised... but fuck did this feel like heaven. "W-what are you doing? Don't stop," Michael panted, unable to keep his lids open or his eyes uncrossed. Kenny buried his face in Michael's crotch before swiping up so every inch of his stubbly facial hair brushed along Michael's hairless velvety soft pussy and skin.

   "I already made you cum in your sleep... bout to do it again," Kenny said, planting kisses on Michael's bare stomach, up to his chest, which still had the shirt taught. "I wanna watch your face this time," Kenny kissed Michaels's neck before inching closer to his face.

   Michael whimpered, turning his head to the side as Kenny sucked on his adam's apple, crossing his legs as Kenny rubbed on his clit harder. You could hear the crickets outside, Michael's muffled moans, and wet sounds as Kenny pleasured Michael.

   "You sound so fucking lewd," Kenny spoke, pressing his lips against Michael's ear, "You were sopping wet before I even touched you," Kenny lightly bit on Michaels's ear, making him moan. "You were touching yourself in your sleep...". 

"Sh-shit," Michael gasped in pleasure.

"Now-now..." Kenny chuckled lowly, covering Michael's mouth, "You don't want to wake Kyle, do you?

   "Fuck... that feels so good," Michael whimpered, hugging his arms around Kenny. Pressing his face in Kenny's neck, he bit on his shoulder, trying not to make noises.

   "Come on... cum for me," Kenny whispered as he ground against Michael's leg. Michael blushed as he could feel Kenny's fat cock hard against his thigh... even with Kenny still having his pajamas on. "Here..." Kenny switched hands to insert a finger in Michael's mouth so he could bite it. "See how good you taste?" he said, Michael's wetness still on his fingers.

   "S-Shit," Michael tensed up as he arched his back, whimpering as Kenny started to press a finger inside of his cunt. "D-Dont-"

   "Holy Shit..." Kenny widened his eyes, "Youre so fucking tight, youre a virgin," He smiled from ear to ear. Michael tried to glare at him, cringing as Kenny continued to finger him but much more gently. Kenny pulled up Michaels's shirt and started to kiss and suck on Michael's nipple. The Goth Boy fluttered his lashes and looked up, flinching as Kyle sat up, looking down with wide eyes.

   "Dude..." That was all Kyle could say. Michael closed his eyes and bit his lip... unable to control his moans as his body tensed up, his touch becoming more desperate as he hugged Kenny, hiding his face on his chest. He instinctively crossed his legs and let out a little scream as he came, squirting as Kenny took his finger out of him to suck them dry. 

   "Fuck... you taste so sweet," Kenny said, leaning down to kiss Michael on the lips. The goth kissed back and bashfully looked up to look at Kyle, who was touching himself... maybe this summer wouldn't be too bad after all.

———- 2:27 AM

North Stark Lake, South Park, Colorado

   Vampir and his crew of vamps had their own 'rager' in the woods, though they just had a lousy beer and clamato juice. He was tipsy since he barely drank because he was a straight edge.

   He was stumbling aimlessly around the woods as he had to take a leak. He lost the path back to where they were hanging out and needed to learn how to return to the cabin. He thought he was headed in the right direction, but he came out in the clearing of the lake and saw the Camp on the other side.

   He sighed and started to return to the Camp, but that's when he heard something. He turned around to see if it was one of his friends. "Bloodrayne?" no one answered, "Vladimir?"

   He was beginning to freak out... but then he saw a large snarling snout coming out of the shadow, followed by glowing red eyes. "Fuck!" Vampir shouted, breaking off in a run, but it was useless... he was tackled to the ground, and the last thing he remembered before blacking out was the tearing of his flesh and a howl.

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black coffee and cigarettes - South Park AU (Aged Up - 18+ - 1. Conformist on Goth Action - Wattpad

AO3

black coffee and cigarettes - Chapter 1 - quxxnofhxarts - South Park [Archive of Our Own]

[child-of-the-nighttime-stars]

Cancer

Such an ugly word... The whole world seems to stop whenever its heard. Always amongst halted breath and sharp exhales. You can only hope they caught it in time for any chance to prevail. This isn't the first time and I doubt it's the last Since those I frequently contact have had their blood cursed in the past But when I was told that my dear aunt had it right on top of her heart, I vividly remember feeling myself fall apart, You put on a brave face for its all you can do, For all the grief you feel, it turns out that so many strangers are dealing with it too. That's what my aunt told me as she came down in May, She also told me that surgery went well and she didn't need chemo so we celebrated that day. Yet another brief encounter with its ghastly caress, Everyone I loved was still here and my erratic heartbeat had left, Though not even a month later, it came back to my door, It seemed to have come, this time asking for more, And eye for an eye, Agree or disagree, it's never been a lie, So in exchange for more time, It'd take another loved one and steal them away while I was completely blind, Luckily when I got the news, I wasn't alone And I never knew an embrace in darkness could feel so much like home, Even then it didn't make the tears any lighter as I silently cried, For Cancer is such an ugly way to have to say 'goodbye...'

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found- Chapter 7

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (established OFC. Although you do not need to read the others to understand this one)

Warnings: angst, mild profanity, brief mention of childhood cancer and death

Tagging:  @tragiclyhip @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit @thesirenrealm @residentdormouse @asirensrage @munstysmind @muchadoaboutcj @starryeyes2000 @karimac @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @occommunity @themaradaniels​

My tag list is OPEN. Just give me a shout if you’d like to added :)

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/115598767

“Why do I get the feeling this isn’t a social call?”

“Is that any way to greet your nearest and dearest?” Nik chides. “Haven’t we progressed to pleasantries by now?”

“I’ve spent enough time with you to know you never call with pleasant news. Or ideas.”

“It’s been a couple of years since I got you into trouble. I thought it was kind of fun. The last time we got together.”

“You and I have very different views on what’s considered ‘fun’. Being caught in the middle of a prison riot isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.” Tyler catches movement out of the corner of his eye; watching as Delaney briefly slides upon the door and sets a mug of coffee down on the deck. And he returns her shaky smile with a brief one of his own; offering a stiff nod when she raises her hand in farewell.

He wants to feel something. Anything. Regret, guilt, humiliation. And while he’s able to acknowledge that he hurt her and should find a way to make amends, he can’t help but wonder if it’s even worth the effort. It’ll never work; the two of them rarely see eye to eye on where their relationship stands or where it’s heading. He will never be the man she wants him to be; he can’t bring himself to open up to her or commit to anything more serious than they’re already experiencing. And she’ll always be in competition with Esme; everything she says and does will constantly be compared to the year he’d spent with someone else.

“It wasn’t THAT bad,” Nik’s voice jolts him back to the conversation at hand. “You got out of there unscathed. Relatively, anyway. And I’m kind of insulted; you assuming I only call under bad circumstances. Maybe I just missed you and wanted to catch up. See how you’re doing.”

“I’m the same as I was when you called out of the blue six months ago. Old, sore, and miserable.”

“So basically the same as the day I met you. Minus the ‘old’. You always did have the personality of a crotchety old man, standing on his front porch with a shotgun, yelling at people to stay off his lawn.”

Smirking, he heads barefoot across the deck and then peers through the window; making sure the kitchen is empty before grabbing the cup of coffee. “Comparing me to Clint Eastwood? That’s a compliment. I’ll take it.”

“It’s nice to see that some things don’t really change. You’re still a smart ass, Tyler.”

“And you’re still a sweet talker. Flattery gets you everywhere.” Taking a swig of his drink, he grimaces at the bitter taste; mumbling profanities as he heads for the edge of the deck and dumps the coffee out onto the grass. “You alright? How’s things?”

“Busy. As usual. The bad guys don’t take days off.”

“Being busy keeps you out of trouble. Or keeps you in it. I know how you get when you’re bored’ all grumpy and shit when business is slow. Nice to hear you’re keeping a roof over your head. What house are you on now? Six? Seven? Last time we talked you were thinking about buying that penthouse in Dubai. Somewhere you could keep your boy toy stashed away. How is he anyway? Did you feed him breakfast and get him on the school bus alright?”

“You’re such a fucking asshole. Remind me why I call you again?”

“Usually because you need me to bail your ass out of trouble. Or you want to get me into some. Like I said, I know this isn’t a social call.”

“Maybe it’s both. Personal AND business. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”

“Depends what the business is.”

“First thing’s first. I never bought the place in Dubai. And there is no boy toy. Not anymore.”

“Sorry to hear that. You seemed pretty happy. What went wrong? He got therapy for his mummy issues?”

“He just decided he wanted to go in a different direction with his life. Without me along for the ride. Apparently, I was ‘bringing him down’. He wanted someone he could pamper and spoil and treat like a princess. Someone completely dependent on him. Subservient.”

“He definitely barked up the wrong tree with that one. Things are good, though? Other than that?”

“I’m still as assertive and bitchy as ever, if that’s what you’re asking. And things are okay. I’m still on this side of the dirt.”

“Definitely a good day when you can say that.”

“Things are good. I’M good. What about you, Tyler? How are YOU? And don’t bullshit me. I always know when you’re lying.”

He contemplates telling her about the dreams and the memories; about the immense loneliness and heartache that have permanently staked their claim on both heart and mind. He’d been encouraged by the feelings and the semblance of happiness he’d experienced when he met Delaney; allowing himself to begin a relationship even though he’d made it perfectly clear that it was the last thing he really wanted. He’d been willing to try; succumbing to the pressure piled on by her brother and Koen. And while he’d enjoyed the moments of contentment and the companionship that she provided him with, they were always fleeting; finding himself quickly annoyed by her presence and her often overbearing and suffocating behaviour. Then the guilt would set in; the harsh reality that while she deserves so much better, he can’t seem to totally cut her loose. Not wanting to be alone, yet not wanting her around at the same time; desperately needing space and breathing room. And it makes him feel pathetic. Weak. The fact that his happiness still hinges on a woman who clearly showed she never meant a damn word she said to him; lying about love and her hopes for a future…THEIR future…and conning him in the same way she had so many others while on the job.

“I’m doing alright.” He chooses the easy way out. “ Working a lot of long hours. Putting out a lot of fires. Getting a lot of cats out of trees.”

Nik gives a small laugh.

“And the reno business is going good. A lot of clients on my hands. And more coming on board every week.”

“How are you feeling? Health-wise?”

“I’m in better shape than I've ever been. I feel good, Nik. Real good. Keeping myself busy. Active. Rate I’m going, I might live to be ninety.”

“And mentally?”

“It’s hit or miss. Some days are good, some not so good. It’s a crap shoot.”

“You still on the meds? Are you…?”

“I’m stable, Nik. I keep on top of it. Haven’t had a really bad episode in a while. It’s under control.”

“What about the other stuff?”

“I’m clean. Sober. Haven’t had a drink or gone anywhere near Oxy in four years. And I plan on keeping it that way. Now…” His knees crack as he lowers himself onto the top step of the deck stairs. “… is this where we quit the bullshit chit-chat and get down to why you really called? Because I am staring down a twelve-hour shift; gotta be at the station soon.”

“I have a job for you.”

“I’m retired.”

“SEMI retired. And you said whenever I needed you…”

“I didn’t say ‘whenever’, I said if you ever found yourself in a tough spot. If a job came up that you didn’t have the right guy for.”

“I’m in a tough spot. I DO have the right men for it, but…”

“But? You either do or you don’t. What’s…?”

“There’s a client asking for you. By name. Willing to pay big money.”

“How’d they hear about me?”

“I didn’t ask. But when I told them that I had other men that were more than capable of getting the job done, they wouldn’t hear of it. Your reputation precedes you, Tyler. This isn’t the first time someone has wanted you in the driver’s seat.”

“First time it’s happened since I retired. Did you tell them? That I didn’t exactly have both feet in the pond anymore?”

“It didn’t matter. They said they only wanted you. In fact, they said it HAS to be you.”

“Sounds like they’re pretty determined.”

“They want the best. No one else will do. They won’t settle for mediocrity.”

“What kind of stakes are we looking at?”

“Pretty damn high. You’ll be going against a pretty powerful organized crime family. Hell-bent on revenge.”

“What did the client do? To get themselves on their bad side?”

“They were working a job themselves. Strictly on the down-low. Spent months infiltrating the circle. They had their cover blown last night. I had to get a team together and go in and get them out of trouble. I’ve got them somewhere safe right now, but…”

“You need to get them somewhere safer.”

“I can only keep them here for a few days. It’s a secure spot, but one that’s normally just a refuge for certain clientele. The owner is doing me a huge favour; giving them a suite to hole up in and around-the-clock protection. The goal is to get them out of the country. Take them somewhere far away while my team and I deal with things here.”

“And where exactly is ‘here’?”

“New York City.”

“Jesus Christ, Nik. You know how much I hate the North American circuit. I haven’t been that way in six, seven years. You know I like to stick to things on the other side of the globe.”

“I realize that. But I’m only doing what the client asked for. And that’s for you to handle their case. I wouldn’t have called you if they weren’t adamant about this. And if I didn’t agree that you really are the best person for this job.”

Sighing, he runs a palm along his beard. “What exactly is it you need me to do?”

“Get the client out of New York City. Get them somewhere safe. Keep an eye on them. Until my team and I handle things here.”

“Babysit, you mean.”

“Extract and protect. Tyler, I wouldn’t have called if she…”

“Hold up…hold up. It’s a SHE? Nik…”

“Tyler, they…SHE..asked for you. She’s adamant. It has to be you.”

“I’m not into rescuing damsels in distress. Nik. I’m not some knight in shining armour. I’m…”

“She comes with fragile contents.”

He falls silent; his thoughts turning to his son. That beautiful, blond-haired little boy that he’d left behind while he was sick and dying; choosing the military over his family when they’d needed him the most. And he allows himself to think of the happier times; before cancer ever became a part of their lives. The walks on the beach and the camping and fishing trips and the dreams of his son taking up his love of surfing.

“Tyler…”

“How old?”

“Four. A little girl. Her mother is terrified. Says she can’t trust just anyone with her daughter’s life. All that matters to her is the little one. Keeping her safe.”

“And exactly who are these people? That are after them? I know you said organized crime, but…”

“It’s better we discuss that in person. Along with the payout. How soon can you be in New York City?”

“How soon can you get me a flight”?

“I can get you a red eye. Your time, of course. I’ll set it all up. Contact you when everything is finalized. Can I tell them? That you’ve agreed to take it? Can I give them my word that you’ll show?”

“I’ll be there,” he promises, abruptly hanging up to end the call. And for several minutes he remains on the step; listening to the kookaburras and the rustle of leaves as a stiff breeze passes through the trees. And his chest aches and his eyes close as he once more thinks of her. Of big brown eyes and a freckle-splattered nose and hair that felt like silk when his hands moved through it.

And of the absence of her next to him.

*****

The sweatshirt is faded and tattered. His smell long gone. It had devastated her when it finally happened; preparing herself for the inevitable over the course of several months, yet still despondent when it disappeared entirely. The hoodie had been the last thing she had grabbed before fleeing the shack; snagging it off the back of the armchair in the living room on her way out the door. Wanting something…anything…to remember him by; a token or souvenir that could remind her of happier, simpler times and all of the plans they’d made for their future. And provide her comfort on the hardest of days and loneliest of nights; either wearing it as intended or simply wrapping it around her pillow. Desperately needing to feel him close to her amidst the harsh reality she’d likely never see him again; the mixture of his familiar scent and the warmth provided by the fabric the closest thing she had to being in his arms.

It had been her only link to him. Just a plain and simple burgundy garment that he’d purchased long before they met. The drawstring for the hood completely missing, the cuffs of the sleeves moth bitten and frayed, the fabric stained in various places; remnants of paint and drywall from when he’d been doing much-needed repairs and renovations on the shack. Every imperfection and loose thread served as a reminder of the time they’d spent together; ten months spent getting to know one another and growing together and planning a future. Dhaka had created a solid foundation for them to build upon; beginning with those initial five days in that dirty little hotel and room and ending with those terrifying and life-altering moments on the bridge. Everything that came after served to help them learn about one another and grow together; his long stay in the hospital, her decision to stay in Australia instead of returning to Colorado, and that comfortable little bubble they created inside that run-down little cabin in the outback. Shedding blood, sweat, and tears while turning it into a home; every coat of paint and every inch of new flooring helping to exorcise the darkness and the demons that haunted him for far too long.

Her fingers trace each hole and every frayed edge. The sweater was the one thing she’d refused to leave behind; frantically searching through both clean and dirty laundry baskets and then hastily shoving it into the lone backpack she and Millie had fled with. Choosing those stains and imperfections over the most expensive garments in her closet; the memories attached to it far more important than any price tag or designer label. Alessio had always nagged her to get rid of it; it was far too big on her petite frame, far too messy with its stains and its puckers and tears, far too ‘poor looking’. Despite refusing to get too deeply involved with his family’s illegal doings, he put far too much emphasis on being one of the ‘elite’; obsessed with the image that he not only presented and maintained, but she and Millie as well.

The latter he complained about often; her hair was too wild and untamed, she was too loud and vibrant and should be ‘seen and not heard’ and he was ‘disgusted’ by her penchant for mixing the frilliest of dresses with the sloppiest of footwear. And Millie had been devastated when he’d taken it upon himself to throw out her beloved light-up Spiderman sandals while she’d been at school; crying herself to sleep as her mother cuddled her tight and tried her very best to console her. The next morning, Esme had made it a point of replacing the shoes; buying two pairs and then boldly setting them right in the midst of all of Alessio’s Hugo Boss and Bruno Malli loafers. He had crossed a line and she refused to let it slip; no one disrespected her daughter and got away with it. Those sandals representing everything that is beautiful and perfect about her little girl. Carefree and confident, vibrant and creative, feisty and resilient. And no one was going to strip her of those things and turn her into a watered-down version of who she was meant to be.

He had tried the same nonsense with the sweater; throwing it into the bin in the kitchen and burying it under household waste in hopes of preventing her from finding it. When she couldn’t locate it after an especially long and trying day of attempting to keep up the lies and the fake persona, she’d just KNOWN he was the culprit. And she’d frantically and angrily torn apart every inch of the house in order to find it; tears spilling down her cheeks as she ranted and raved about his refusal to respect her or her boundaries. In his eyes she was being ridiculous and overly dramatic; what kind of sane and rational person is that attached to a cheap hoodie that looked as if she picked it out of a dumpster? She hadn’t bothered to explain; he would never understand and definitely would never try. And she hadn’t wanted to share those intimate details; tales of her real and her immense heartache and guilt over the choices she made just made things far too personal. She was just there for the job after all; not make genuine bonds and actually go through with the wedding. Admittedly, she had enjoyed how he made her feel when he wasn’t being a complete asshole; loved and wanted and cherished. It had been so long since she’d had a man gaze at her in adoration; it was flattering and ego boosting and it did wonders to mend some of her shattered confidence. But there was no way she could ever TRULY care for him. She’d only ever loved one man in her life; with everything she was and everything she had. And she’d wounded him deeply and saddled herself with a lifetime of regret.

Moving on is impossible. Even with the most honourable and respectful of men. After all, how do you love a person when your heart still firmly rests in the hands of someone else?

Her heart is heavy as she slips into the hoodie; a mixture of anticipation and fear co-mingling with the guilt and regret that’s been burdening her for four and a half years. While she’s relieved he agreed to the job and both anxious and excited to see him again, there’s genuine fear gnawing at both stomach and nerves. She worries about how deep the damage may still run; how ferociously he may be clinging to all that hurt and anger. Nik had always kept her informed of how he was doing during the first year; searching endlessly and aimlessly for her, struggling to maintain his sobriety, one moment filled with rage and hate and the other with heartache and loneliness.

She wouldn’t blame him; if -upon seeing her- he changed his mind about the job and turned his back on both her and Millie. She had wounded him deeply; fleeing without explanation and leaving nothing but random articles of clothing, her recently factory-reset cell phone, and an apology hastily scribbled on a scrap piece of paper. Nothing more than a simple and pathetic “I’m sorry”; placed in the middle of the kitchen table and propped up by her favourite mug. It seemed silly; leaving something so trivial behind. But in the back of her mind she’d hoped it would give him some kind of solace; having something that she’d loved and had brought her so much joy. Perhaps he’d even see it as something much deeper; both a reassurance that her absence wouldn’t be permanent, and a promise that she’d one day return to that cup. And to him.

Drawing the sleeves of the hoodie over her hands, she lifts them to her face and inhales deeply. While his scent may no longer cling to the fabric, if she closes her eyes and tries hard enough, she can still remember it. Familiar and comforting, it fills her with a sense of peace and contentment; allowing her to immerse herself in the memories of those much happier, easier times. It’s the smell of home; of safety and security and love. A reminder of the last time she’d ever been truly happy. When she’d been taught what love…REAL LOVE…was all about it. It was patience and it was sacrifice and it was choosing to be together even when all the cards were stacked against them. It was taking the bad along with the good and learning more about yourself than the person you’re with. Tyler had shown her that she was still worthy of love and being loved in return; taking all her broken pieces and every so slowly and tenderly putting them back together. Mark hadn’t destroyed her, he’d simply damaged her. And another man was ready, willing, and able to help her out of that deep, dark hole she’d been tossed into. And when he wasn’t able to, he just climbed down into that hole with her. Loving her when she wasn’t capable of loving herself.

She misses that. That level of adoration. Trust. Acceptance.

Most of all, she misses HIM.

******

A brisk knock comes to the door, followed by Abuela’s voice; soft and full of concern. “Esme? Are you awake?”

She wishes she was; wanting nothing more than to climb into bed and bury herself under a mountain of blankets and stay there forever. She’s physically and mentally exhausted and the ache is intense; her heart heavy and weary as she relives both those happier times and the moment she’d thrown her entire life away. There’d been no other choice; he hadn’t deserved to be dragged into the mess with The High Table and she knew she had to do whatever it took to keep him safe. Even if it meant breaking both their hearts in the process

It hasn’t been easy; attempting to go on with life without him. And at times she still grieves the tremendous loss; torturing herself with thoughts of ‘what if’ and daydreaming about what their life would have been like had everything worked out for the best. It’s an agony she wouldn’t wish on her own worst enemy; to love someone to the very depths of your soul yet be forced to cut them loose. And then spend the rest of your days missing them terribly and constantly wondering about ‘ what could have been’.

“Esme?” Abuela again, her knock more insistent. “Honey, you CAN’T stay holed up in there forever. I know you’re going through it right now and it seems like there’s no end in sight, but you’ve got to at least TRY and function. You’re not sleeping…you’re not eating properly…you’re…”

“I’m not hungry. I just need some time. Alone. Just a little bit of time.”

“You didn’t eat breakfast and you went back to bed the second Millie went downstairs to hang out at the front desk with Charon. Have you been sleeping all this time? It is well after noon hour and…”

Had she really been hiding for that long? Locked away with her memories and her guilt and regret? Had she even fallen back asleep? It’s all so hazy; every moment that’s passed since fleeing her home in the middle of the night is a complete blur. She had expected the news of Tyler agreeing to take the job would brighten her spirits; fill her with hope and optimism and a newfound assurance that everything was going to be okay. But the lingering trepidation has now shifted focus; switching from the desperate need to ensure Millie’s safety to wanting to keep her own heart intact. She had lied the night before; when she told Nik she could handle Tyler having another woman in his life. That she’d be able to cope if all they could manage was being friends and amicably co-parenting their daughter. The truth is that she’ll be devastated; torn apart seeing him in love with someone else and watching them with the adoration and affection that had once been solely reserved for her.

It makes her physically nauseous to even THINK about it. The stress and the fear and the heartache finally catch up to her and she buries her face in her hands and openly sobs. She hates herself for what she’s done; not only hurting the only man she’s ever loved, but putting their daughter’s life at risk. The baby that she so desperately wanted but has kept from him for four years; her own pride and selfishness and fear harming them both. And maybe it’s her punishment for making such horrible mistakes; forced to watch him as he creates a life with someone other than her.

She hears neither the door clicking open nor Abuela’s footfalls as she enters the room, yet suddenly finds herself wrapped in the woman’s strong, motherly embrace. She has been a godsend since the job started; working under the guise of being Millie’s nanny while not only keeping a close eye on both mother and child, but on Alessio’s behaviour and the comings and goings of his family. At a remarkably spry and fierce, sixty-five, Abuela -as she’d told Millie to call her- remains a legend among those in the ‘circle’; long ago given the moniker ‘the death dealer’’ for her lucrative mercenary and weapon trafficking businesses. Highly educated and well-spoken, she personifies ‘never judge a book by its cover’; conning people with an initially meek and mild persona and then quickly becoming their worst nightmare. Tall and beautiful even as she ages; with warm, dark eyes and an inviting smile and a soft, demure smile. But she’s not to be disrespected or underestimated. There were very valid and admirable reasons why she excelled in a world dominated by testosterone.

“Talk to me,” Abuela encourages as she pulls away; smoothing Esme’s unkempt hair from her face and then cradling her face in her palms. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“It’s just too much. It’s just all too much.”

“What is? Take a breath and tell me. What’s too much?”

“Everything. Five years ago, two nights ago…” She struggles to draw breath. “...just…everything! I’ve fucked up. I’ve fucked up so bad and I don’t know how to fix it. First Tyler, now Millie. I screwed things up with him and now I’ve royally messed things up as a mom and…”

“That’s bullshit. Utter bullshit. You did no such thing. Millie is fine. She’s settled nicely, she’s almost back to being her normal self. In a couple of days, she won’t even think about what happened. It won’t even bother her anymore. And you know why? Because her mother was right there with her. Through all the tears and the tantrums and the nightmares. That’s what she’ll remember. That you never left her side.”

“I never should have taken the risk. Not with her involved. I know the job. I know how crazy and unpredictable it can be. How quickly things can go wrong. And I never…ever…should have dragged her into that. Knowing the possibilities. I never…”

“You had no reason to believe things that would go THAT bad. None of us did. I know I didn’t see it coming. And I’ve been in the game a hell of a lot longer than you have.”

“No mother in their right mind would have gotten their kid mixed up in this shit. What kind of parent would do that? Get back into this life? When they have someone dependent on them? She’s innocent. She doesn’t deserve any of this. She never should have been put in harm’s way. And I’m the one who put her there!”

“All you’ve ever done is love that little girl. Devote your entire life to her. Your entire BEING. You didn’t intentionally put her in danger. There is no way you could have known how bad things were going to go. Now when it had all been going so well. For months! Esme…” Abuela uses her thumbs to swipe at the younger woman’s tears. “...none of this is your fault. You did nothing wrong. In fact, you were doing everything RIGHT. Things went sideways. It happens. You should know that by now.”

“But Millie. I never…”

“Millie is tough. Like her momma. You’re her entire world. The centre of her little universe. Do you think she thinks any less of you because of what happened? That she blames you? All that mattered to her was that momma was there through the entire thing. Keeping her safe. That’s all.”

“I don’t want her growing up to hate me. I don’t want her thinking…years from now…that I put her in danger. Because I would never do that. Not intentionally. All I’ve ever wanted was to protect. Even when she was still in my belly. Keeping her safe was my priority. And now…”

“And now you’ve taken the proper steps to get her the hell out of New York and to somewhere safe. WITH someone safe. And it’ll do you both a world of good; being far away from this shit show. Now….” She loops Esme’s hair behind her ears, then once more cups her cheeks in her palms. “...you’re no good to that little one of yours if you don’t take care of yourself. And that includes eating. You need to…’

“I’m really not hungry. I….”

“No nonsense from you. No more bullshit. You need to keep your strength. For Millie AND for yourself.”

She allows herself to be guided from the bedroom room and out into the living area. Abuela’s arm wrapped securely around her shoulders, keeping her tightly pressed into her side. It’s attentive and caring. Motherly. The treatment she’d so desperately longed for from her own flesh and blood as a child and beyond. And it’s filled a void that she never realized she had; repairing those final pieces of the wounded little girl and teenager that had never felt wanted or loved. Old, previously gaping wounds that nearly healed; no longer needing reassurance or acceptance from her own blood when she’s surrounded by her ‘adoptive’ family.

And Millie, of course. With those brilliant blue eyes and cheeky grin and infectious giggle. So full of brightness and love and wonder.

“I took the liberty.” Abuela nods down at the coffee table; its surface filled with various cold beverages and a wide variety of Mexican food. “All your favourites. Nothing like a little comfort food to get things back on the right track.”

“I don’t know how much I can eat,” Esme laments, and rubs her stomach in slow, smooth circles. “I’m not exactly in the best shape. My nerves are shot. Everything’s just piling up and piling up. And when I think about how I’m going to come face to face with him in less than twenty-four hours…”

“Just try your best. Believe me, you’ll feel a lot better with at least something in you. You can’t pour from an empty cup, Esme. You’re going to burn yourself out; letting your mind run rampant like that. So just sit…” With a hand on the small of the younger woman’s back, she leads her to the couch and encourages her to take a seat. “...and try and relax and get at least a little bit of food.”

“Millie…” Worry creases her forehead as she furtively glances around the suite. “....where….?”

“Grandpa Winston took her for lunch on the rooftop terrace. And told her he has some flowers that are in dire need of her attention.”

“Millie and her green thumb,” Esme smiles and accepts a cutlery and a plate of food. “Not even four and a half and she can grow anything, it seems. I can’t even keep a simple house plant alive and she’s out in the backyard watering her massive strawberry and tomato plants. She always tells me it’s because she talks and sings to them. Always says, ‘momma, you have to baby them. You have to chat and sing!’ I think she’s just damn lucky.”

“She’s certainly got a knack for nurturing things. Actually, she has a knack for quite a lot, doesn’t she? If anyone ever told me that a four-year-old could draw as good as she does…”

“Her dad’s quite the artist. It’s his secret talent. I never would have expected it in a million years. And then he told me about his childhood and how he loved to draw and how his mom really supported it. She was his biggest fan. His dad…” She chews thoughtfully on her bottom lip; eyes downcast she uses her fork to move food around her plate. “...well let’s just say he didn’t deserve that title. Dad.”

“Not a Father of the Year award finalist?”

“Not in the slightest. He was a horrible person. First to Tyler’s mom, then to Tyler. He had it pretty rough. His dad was a monster. And that’s putting it lightly. He used to worry about being just like him. Whenever we’d talk about kids and if we could see ourselves having any. He’d always tell me that he was scared. Of turning into his dad. And that was the last thing he wanted.”

“And would you say?”

“That it could never happen. That he was nowhere close to being like his father. I understood though; why he felt that way. I just tried to do my best to convince him he wasn’t the monster he thought he was.”

“Because of what happened with his son?”

Esme glances up. “How’d you…?”

“Information is easy to get. If you know where to look and who to ask. I never hired someone without thoroughly researching them. And I taught Nik to do the same.”

“Tyler made a mistake. He was scared and emotionally vulnerable and weak. He admitted that. And everything fell apart after his son died. His marriage, his military career. His sobriety. He was in a pretty dark place. When I met him.”

“Seems like you got him out of it.”

“We got EACH OTHER out of it. I wasn’t in the best shape, either. Between my own marriage disintegrating and the problems with The High Table. And then Dhaka…”

“That was…messy.”

“That’s putting it lightly. Everything that could go wrong, did.”

“Other than that first five days.”

A blush creeps into her cheeks. “You know about THAT, too?”

“Oh, honey. I know about everything. Word travels. And it’s not hard to put two and two together. A woman doesn’t just decide to give up her entire life for no reason. It’s obvious something happened. To make you stick around. Both on that bridge and off it.”

“It wasn’t the right place. Or the right time. But it happened. And neither of us regretted it. Or at least we didn’t five years ago. I know I don’t. He’s still the best thing that ever happened to me. He was the first person that ever made me feel safe and protected. Who I could just be myself with. And he gave me Millie. We created this amazing little human together. No way I could EVER regret that.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t regret meeting you. Or how things went down between you. If you were to ask him, I’m sure he’d say that was the best ten months of his life. You saved him. In every way a person can be saved.”

“And then I turned around and hurt him. He deserved so much better; than how I ended things. He deserved so much better than ME. And I don't know how to make up for it. I don’t know what to say to him. Somehow ‘sorry’ just doesn’t seem to cut it, you know?”

“Just tell him the truth. Tell him about your involvement with The High Table and the threats they made and that you had no other choice. You did what you did to PROTECT him. You said it yourself; he never would have survived their onslaught.”

“He would have fought back. No hesitation. When he told me that he’d do anything for me…anything he had to keep me safe…he meant it. HE SHOWED it. In Dhaka. We barely knew each other and he was more than willing to sacrifice himself so I’d get out of there alive. There’s no way he would have just let them walk in and take me. He wouldn’t have gone down without a fight. And I never would have forgiven myself; if something happened to him.”

“Then tell him that. Tell him ALL of it. It isn’t just black and white, Esme. There are a lot of shades of grey. But once you explain, he’ll understand. That it WAS for the best. And that it wasn’t a decision you wanted to make,”

“I never wanted to go. And I didn’t leave because I didn’t love him. I left because I did.”

“Make sure you tell him that too. And maybe he won’t understand right away…right in the moment…but once you give him a chance to sit back and let everything sink in? He’ll realize you only had his best interests at heart. You were protecting him. In the same way he would have protected you.”

“He may understand THAT, but what about Millie? How do I explain HER? I kept her from him. For four years! For the first eight months, I didn’t have a choice. I had to protect BOTH of them. But what about after? I had so many chances to reach out to him. To let him know about her.”

“And why didn’t you?”

“I was scared. I was worried that he hated me enough to totally turn his back on her. And I wouldn’t have been able to handle that. Him rejecting her. My baby. OUR baby. I realize now how stupid I was. For ever thinking that. Because I know his heart. He’s a good man, AB. A really good man. And he wanted to be a dad again. He was just afraid. There’s no way he would have closed the door on her. Pretended that she didn’t exist.”

“And you think he would do that now? Esme, he’s still that same man. The one you fell in love with. The one you STILL love. I see it in your eyes and I hear it in your voice. It’s all still there, isn’t it.”

“I never got over him. I don’t think I ever will. And I know he’s moved on and it’s killing me inside; thinking about him with someone else. I tried convincing myself that I’d be okay with it; if all we could manage was co-parenting Millie. But the truth is, I don’t think I can do it. See him with another woman. Even if it is what I deserve.”

“And these are things you need to tell him. If there was ever a time to be completely honest, this is it. As soon as you can, you need to sit him down and tell him everything you’ve told me. It’s what he deserves, don’t you think?”

She nods.

“He’s going to be angry and hurt and he’s likely going to lash out. He’s been holding onto all of that for years. And just like you have things that you need to talk about, so does he. Once he’s gotten that anger out, he WILL listen. Because there was a time he loved you very much. Where he would have done anything for you. And I’m pretty sure some of those feelings still exist. If not all of them.”

“But if he hates me…”

“I doubt he hates you. I don’t think he could EVER hate you. I’ve met Tyler. Briefly. When he first started working for Nik. And I could see it in his eyes; all that hurt he was carrying around. But you know what else I saw? Humanity. Lingering right there under the surface. Someone that could still feel. That was still living. Even if he didn’t realize it.”

“That’s what I saw too. When we met. He wasn’t like everyone else on the job. He was quiet and thoughtful. He had a gentleness to him. And that’s what drew me in. The fact he was different. And when we were in Dhaka, I got to see all these different sides to him. That he never let anyone else see. And that was the man I fell in love with. The one that cried to me about his son and the mistakes that he’d made. The one who wanted to kill my ex-husband for doing the things he did to me. The one who looked at me like I was the most beautiful thing on earth.”

“That’s the man you still love.”

“I can’t help it. I can’t stop. I know I should. But I just can’t.”

“There’s no time limit. On when it’s appropriate to get over someone. Sometimes you never do. Sometimes you find that one person that you love more than you ever thought you could love someone. And then you lose them. Unfortunately. I never got over my husband. I still love him. I still miss him. And it’s been twenty years.”

“How did you do it? Move on? How did you get over him?”

“I didn’t. And just because my body is carrying on, it doesn’t mean my heart is. There will never be another. I don’t want there to be. And something tells me you don’t want that either.”

“I don’t,” Esme admits. “I don’t want anyone else. Just him. It’ll always be just him.”

“And that’s what you tell him. I know you’re scared; that he’s going to tell you he doesn’t want the same thing. But you need to take the risk. Because if you don’t and he DOES move on with his life, you’re going to spend the rest of your life kicking yourself in the ass. Isn’t it better to find out where you stand than spend decades watching him with someone else?”

“I guess so. I don’t know. I just…” Setting her plate on the coffee table, she places her elbows on her knees and her face in her palms. “...I just didn’t think this is how it would go. Seeing him again. Telling him about Millie. This is not what I planned for. At all.”

“But this is where we’re at. This is what’s happening. Through no fault of your own. And in twenty-four hours, he’s going to be standing right in front of you. And as scared as you are, I know there’s a part of you that’s excited. About seeing him again.”

“Of course I’m excited. I’ve only spent nearly five years thinking about him. Worrying about him. Missing him. I WANT to see him. But I’m still terrified. About how things are going to go. About what I’m going to say to him. How I’m going to explain the things I did. How I’m going to explain our baby. HIS baby.”

“When he’s here…when you’re finally face to face with him…it’ll come to you. Just speak from the heart. You can never go wrong when you do that, believe me.”

Tears threaten; lower lip and chin wobbling as she attempts to rein in her emotions. “What have I done, AB? What kind of mess have I made? How did this happen? How did it all go so wrong? We were so happy. We were happy and we were planning a future and it just went so bad. We deserved a chance. At a normal life. We paid our dues and made our amends. Wasn’t it enough?”

“Sometimes things don’t go the way we want them to. There’s no reason. No explanation. They just don’t. But honey, you have the chance. To set things right. To get back to where you were. And it’s scary as hell; having to own up to what you’ve done. But that man deserves to hear it, don’t you think?”

“He deserved that a long time ago.”

“Love is a hell of a thing. There’s times it's wonderful and it’s beautiful and there’s times it’s maddening and terrifying. But nine times out of ten? It’s more than worth it. And you’ll never know what he’s feeling if you DON’T face him. Do you want to spend the rest of your life wondering what he would have said?”

“Of course not. Five years has been way too long as it is.”

“He’s not going to turn his back on you. Not after everything the two of you went through in Dhaka. Not after you gave up your life for him. And especially not after he meets that little girl. He’s going to take one look at her and fall madly and deeply in love.”

“I hope so. Because she’s everything that’s perfect and beautiful inside both of us.”

“Even if she does look exactly like him.”

Esme manages a laugh, then uses the backs of her hands to brush wayward tears from her cheeks. “She’s definitely his Mini Me. From head to toe. You know how many times I’ve been asked if I’m her nanny? When we’re out together? There’s not a stitch of me in her. She is ALL dad.”

“I don’t know about that. She’s a strong little thing. Resilient as hell. And stubborn…”

“That’s him too. The stubborn thing. He is the most stubborn human being I have ever met.”

“Other than when you look in the mirror, you mean? Because in case you haven’t been told, you have got to be the most pigheaded person on the planet. I’ve never seen anyone that gets knocked down and keeps getting back up quite like you do.”

“What’s the saying? It’s the little ones you have to watch out for? They’re the ones you least expect?”

“I always say that great things come in small packages. Millie, her mom. Look at everything you’ve been through. Not just here in New York, either. Dhaka, the trouble with The High Table. All the things that could have…SHOULD HAVE…broken you? You beat them. On your own.”

“I had help. In Dhaka. I wouldn’t have survived. If Tyler hadn't been there. If he hadn’t been so willing to sacrifice himself for Ovi and I. He could have left us. He could have just abandoned us and worried about himself. But he didn’t. He was willing to die for us, AB. No questions asked.”

“If he was willing to do that then, think about what he’ll be willing to do for you now. After the year you spent together. After loving one another. After making a baby together. Do you really think he’ll feel nothing? When he sees you?”

“I don’t know what he’ll feel. Good OR bad. I want it to be good. I’d give anything for it to be good.”

“Give him a chance. Even if he doesn’t react the way you want at first…even if he’s angry as hell…give that to him. He’ll come around. I don’t doubt it. In the slightest. He’s a smart man. Smarter than anyone gives him credit for.”

“I always thought so too. That everyone underestimated him. That he underestimated himself. I can’t wait to see him.” Tears threaten once again. “It’s all I’ve wanted. For almost five years. Just to see him. To hear his voice. Just be in the same room with him again.”

“Soon.“Very soon.”

“I just hope he wants the same thing. Who knows; maybe he’s been waiting for this too. I don’t think it’s too much to ask, do you? That maybe he feels the same way? That maybe he’s missed me too? That maybe he still loves me?”

“Oh sweetheart…” Leaning forward in her seat, Abuela reaches across the coffee table; gently cradling the younger woman’s cheek in her palm. “...I don’t that it’s too much to ask at all”

[6ftslytherin]

The Stranger In My Best Friend's Skin

Warning: elements of the story center around the sever depression of a character. This includes self harm, an anxiety attack, internalized homophobia, and a suicide attempt. Reader discretion is advised.

Rowan got the news last week. Her best and first friend in the entire world was going to be an inpatient at the Waterhouse psychiatric ward. For the past three days, she had tried to ask Sabine if she could visit, only to receive no reply. Today was different, however. Her letter had received a simple "yes" to her question this time. Rowan wasn't going to waste this opportunity.

Now here she was, seeing Sabine for the first time in months. But that wasn't the same Sabine she had seen leave King's Crossing. It was as if she had aged at least twenty years in their short time apart. Heavy bags had formed under her tired eyes. Her hair had grown a bit longer. Her cheeks had never been the fullest, but upon closer inspection, they had become sunken. She was wearing a simple gray t-shirt and jeans. There was a leather wristband on her left side. Despite her default shoes being sneakers, she was wearing slip-ons now. She had always looked older than she was. She was six feet tall by the time they were thirteen, and now, a year later, she looked like she had lived several lifetimes.

"Uh.... hey." Rowan said, trying the best she could to not let her nervousness bleed through. Sabine smiled just a little. "Hello," she said. "I must look like the living dead at this point. They wouldn't let me bring in my skin care stuff. They said some talented potion makers are able to use them." Rowan wanted to argue back. She wanted to support her friend at rock bottom, but she couldn't get the words together fast enough. "Why don't we talk in the courtyard? This is a facility for the rich, so it's gorgeous." Sabine said. "Yeah, sure." Rowan said as Sabine led her to their destination.

It was gorgeous. Plants cascaded from large pots like a verdant waterfall. Blooming flowers of subtle colors, probably to not overwhelm people. They sat at a marble picnic table under the shade of an elm tree. As Rowan looked around, an offensive, acidic smell came out of nowhere. She turned back to Sabine as she took a drag of a Marlboro Red. "This is the only place they let me smoke. Give it a minute." She said. Suddenly the air became full of the scent of flowers, completely getting rid of the smell.

"The plants here were used to cover up an unpleasant aroma." Sabine said. Rowan looked at her friend as a pit grew in her stomach. She remembered the first time she caught Sabine smoking. On April 19, 1987, Sabine tried to cover up what she had been doing, but the lingering sting in the air masked any lie she could think of. Rowan chewed her out for it. Yelling about cancer, emphysema, and COPD. Looking back on it, maybe reacting that way wasn't the best considering where they currently were.

Sabine was playing with her silver lighter, flicking it on and off. "I didn't think they'd let you have that here." Rowan said he was glad to have some words to break the tension. "I didn't either." Sabine said, not taking her eye off the lighter's flame. "It's this wristband I'm wearing. It's had a spell put on it so that I'm unable to physically hurt myself or others. I also can't take it off; my doctor has to do it." She reached her hand towards the flame and attempted to grab it, only for the small fire to die before contact was made.

"That's good." Rowan said. She knew that Sabine would never hurt anyone, but she remembered back on the train from Hogwarts. It was just for a moment when Sabine changed into her street clothes, but Rowan saw something. Scars running horizontally across her inner thigh. Since Sabine was a fast dresser, it was only for a moment, but she had seen it. Rowan wanted to say something. But maybe she misunderstood what she had seen. That had to be it. Sabine would never do that.

"Yet, for some reason, they still don't allow shoes with laces here." She finally set the lighter down. Once again, the awkward silence came. Rowan had a myriad of emotions thundering in her gut. Sabine was different, to put it mildly. Sabine was cheerful. She was noble and kind.

She was happy.

At least, that's what everyone thought.

"It is good to see you again. I do appreciate this." Sabine said. "Oh, it's nothing. I'd do anything to help you get better." Rowan said, putting on a cheerful face. Sabine smiled the same small, tired smile from before. A peek of the Sabine she knew from before everything that had recently happened.

Everything went quiet again as Sabine continued to smoke. What could they talk about? Would she be offended if she asked about everything? What about before? Would that be okay?

"They're saying I shouldn't start my fourth year this fall at the same time as everyone else. They want me to wait and see if the medication balances me out better. It's not as bad as this one kid here. He's schizophrenic, and his parents are homeschooling him. He's not even that bad. His family probably just doesn't want people to know about his condition." Sabine said. "Oh, what are you on?" Rowan said. What are you doing? What a stupid question. "I don't remember. It's something long that starts with a c." Sabine said. She took another drag.

"They diagnosed me with severe depression. That's an understatement." She said. "Yeah, everything considered..." Rowan said it without thinking. Another moment of stiff silence followed as Sabine looked at her cigarette. "Does this situation make you uncomfortable? You don't have to lie." Rowan squirmed. She did the same as Sabine and stared at her hands. "Yeah. It does." What else could she have said? Sabine took a breath.

"Thank you. I appreciate your honesty." Sabine said. Rowan looked up at Sabine, even though she didn't meet her gaze. She was clearly thinking about something. "My parents have been trying to act like this messed-up situation doesn't... I don't know how to put it. They acknowledge that I need help and that it's a good thing that I'm getting it, but the look in their eyes when they visit is like they're looking at a ghost. Maybe that's what I am, but they don't know how to break it to me."

The words sent a shiver up Rowan's spine. She understood that the position Sabine's parents were in would definitely not be easy. Especially considering that after the disappearance of Jacob, she was the only child they had left at home. Her oldest brother, Yosef, was in Switzerland as a bassist in a renowned orchestra. John died as a child in a hit-and-run. Now this.

Rowan touched Sabine on the hand, causing their eyes to meet. "See? You can't be a ghost because I can touch you." Sabine smiled again. Rowan was feeling pretty good about this visit. Three smiles from a severely depressed person is a good sign, right? Suddenly, Sabine looked away again; her smile faded back to nothingness. She clearly went back to whatever she was thinking of before.

"I feel dead."

Nausea swelled in Rowan's gut. She felt like she was going to puke right then and there. But she fought the acid that was crawling up the back of her throat. "Well, don't worry. You'll get better before you know it. We'll be drinking butterbeer at the Three Broom Sticks and getting candy from Honeydukes. Not to mention that the quidditch team would really struggle without you."

Sabine made a little noise from her throat, clearly still thinking about whatever was swirling in her mind. Once again, silence snuck between them. How long were visiting hours here anyway?

"Rowan?" Sabine suddenly said, shaking Rowan back to the current moment. "What do you think of homosexuals?" She asked, not lifting her eyes from the pot of flowers she was staring at. "Uh, they're okay, I guess. I mean, people are people, no matter who they're attracted to. Like, André's a really nice fella, and he's pretty open about liking guys." Rowan answered. "I see..." Sabine almost whispered.

"Do you know that model, Yvonne Silverpot?" She said she was not changing the focus of her vision. "Well yeah. Who doesn't? She's always showing up on magazine covers." Rowan said. Suddenly, Sabine looked a little bit more tired. "She stayed at my home for a few weeks about a month ago. She was working with my mother on a project for her new fashion line." She said.

"That's cool. Did you get an autograph?" Rowan asked. Sabine said nothing. Rowan wondered if she had said the wrong thing. For some reason, she felt like she was more likely to say the wrong thing than anyone else. "We became fast friends." Sabine smiled again. "And then one day she asked me if I had ever kissed anyone before. I thought it was just girl talk, and I answered truthfully with a no. Then she asked..."

Sabine started playing with the lighter again. "She asked me if I wanted to kiss her, and I did. It just felt so good. We were inseparable the entire time she was there, but we had different ideas about what we were doing. I fell for her. She just wanted a short fling."

Rowan stared at Sabine. She had always suspected that her masculine friend wasn't interested in boys. It was weird to hear her admit it for the first time. And the fact that she had been seeing a famous model for a few weeks? Was Rowan supposed to say something? What could she say? She decided the best course of action was to stay quiet.

Sabine continued, "I always knew how I was." I would have crushes on girls and not be able to tell anyone. It was better before I was the only legitimate heir left. It wasn't necessary for me to get married. Then my brothers were gone, and I was expected to grow up and continue the bloodline. I tried to hide my feelings, but..." She laid her head on the table. "After Yvonne, after feeling the love of another girl, I couldn't go back. I was a disgrace to the Lowell name and our illustrious history. The night she left, I had the worst panic attack of my life. I thought I was having a heart attack. I didn't get help. I kept myself locked in my room. If it was a heart attack, I wanted it to take me. That's when I decided I was better off dead. It was better than being the solitary dyke who would never be the prefect daughter." She finished her cigarette and let out a big puff of smoke before putting it out in an ashtray that Rowan hadn't noticed before.

Sabine laughed. "It was such a relief. The idea that my suffering would soon be over made me the happiest I'd been in forever." She finally pulled her head up, meeting Rowan's gaze. The exhaustion in her face was more pronounced than before. Her brown eyes were seemingly as old as the earth itself. The hand that wasn't playing with the lighter was unconsciously trying to dig her nails into her palm. If she hadn't been wearing the bracelet, the skin would have probably torn. Sabine slammed the lighter onto the table, making it close.

"I tried to kill myself because of a girl. Isn't that the most pathetic thing you ever heard?" She laughed while her body shook from nerves.

Rowan was someone who thought first and determined the best course of action. This time, she didn't. She jumped from her spot at the table. She rounded the side of it and grabbed Sabine, hugging her as tightly as her arms could. Rowan never considered herself to be good with people. But she couldn't help herself. She couldn't let Sabine feel alone for another moment. She didn't know what to say about the situation, but she did the best she could in that moment, as what Sabine had said caused a maelstrom in her head.

"I'm sorry." Sabine said. "I can't ever be the person you knew again. I'm just too damn tired to try."

Rowan managed to find her voice again. "That's alright. We'll work on this together. You don't have to pretend anymore. You're sick right now, and everyone who loves you is going to help you get better. Me included. I said I'd do anything to help you get better, and I mean what I said."

Sabine slowly reached her arms around Rowan. She hugged back as fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

------------‐------------

"Could you tell me where we're going now?" Sabine asked Rowan. "Not yet!" Rowan said, continuing to pull Sabine forward. Sabine had been back at Hogwarts for only a day. She had come a week after the start of their fourth year. She wanted to at least catch up on her schoolwork a little. Yet here she was being taken to who knows where in the Hogwarts castle, and by Rowan no less! She thought Rowan would be ready to help her catch up at a moment's notice.

"Here we are!" Rowan said as she stopped in front of a door. Sabine looked around. It was just a disused classroom. "You've got to see what's in here!" Rowan said, gesturing to the door. Was this about one of the Cursed Vaults? I might as well see what the deal is.

Sabine opened the door, only to have a bunch of confetti fall on her. She shook her head like a dog. When she opened her eyes again, she saw all her friends. Not only that, but there were cupcakes and a tub of ice with soda bottles in it on one of the tables. Upon closer inspection, the entire room was decorated. There were floating balls of light that looked like stars. Green and gold streamers hung from the walls. On the wall across from the door Sabine was standing in was a banner. On it was the phrase, "Welcome back!"

Sabine turned around. Rowan was watching her reaction to the surprise. "We wanted to surprise you." Rowan said it with a smile. Sabine turned back to the room. Penny walked up to her. "This was all Rowan's idea; she organized everything." Penny gave Sabine a big, warm hug.

Sabine was caught off guard. "Uh... thanks guys! I don't know what to say." She said. Sabine started to nervously laugh. "This isn't too much, is it?" Ben sheepishly asked. "No, no. I'm just surprised, is all." Sabine said, "Why are we doing this?" " Because Rowan said you needed some cheering up. "We didn't need a reason beyond that, considering everything you've done for us." Charlie said. "Not me. I'm just here for the snacks." Merula said. Ismelda nudged her in the ribs. "And maybe because things are boring without you." Merula said it, but more quietly this time.

Rowan walked closer to Sabine. "I didn't tell them why you were absent. You tell them when you're ready." She whispered in her ear. Rowan walked in front of her and turned back to her. "Come on, Jae and I spent all day on these cupcakes! They're red velvet." She said. "Right." Sabine said to follow her.

"Where have you been anyway?" Barnaby asked. Sabine stopped in her tracks. She took a breath and replied, "I was very sick. Now Rowan is helping me get better." She said it with a truthful smile.

[ajcrwl]

tw death, illness

it seems like my mum will die this week.

me and the dog are going to be alone.

she's been showing symptoms of decline for a few months now, but last month everything started snowballing so fast, it became clear that there's nothing anyone can do anymore. literally a couple of weeks ago she was still talking and even tried to eat a little, and today she can't even drink through a straw anymore.

it's so fucked up that she's the first person i've ever met in this life, and she's the first person i will lay to rest soon.

her apartment has only one room, the whole year i had to sleep in the same room with her, and still have to sleep there even while she's dying. i'm spending most of the day in the kitchen, because i just can't bear to be with her all the time and see her like this, and i've still been crying non-stop for a few days.

she used to be super restless and wouldn't let me sleep, i slept at best 5 and a half hours at night. but now she mostly just grunts and moans, and i don't wake up that often, so i started sleeping better and seeing dreams. and oh boy my sleepy brain still hasn't caught up with reality - the dream that i had today was so lovely and full of hope and good feelings, and then i woke up, looked over to where she is, and she's all bruised, thin, smelling badly, and making random noises, and i started crying again.

i had this weirdly comforting thought, that technically i've been alone since the end of january '22, and i've been living with this strange memory of mum this whole time. she hasn't been here as a person since she fell ill. her personality has changed so badly, it was crazy. there was only one moment in the summer when i felt like she was back, and it lasted for exactly a day. and then another time recently after she had a seizure and came to, and was so lucid and kind to me and the dog, and then it faded the next day as well. and that's it.

had i known that she would struggle this much, i'd never push her through the operation, and radio-, and chemotherapy. but i couldn't have known. and ultimately, brain cancer won anyway.

they told me the statistics was 11 months. it's been a little over 13 months since first symptoms, 12,5 since we saw the tumour on a scan, and will be a year since the op on March 11th, but i don't think she will make it.

[greensupremetangerine]

TW: DEATH, SUICIDE

Everyone has their cause of death written on their forehead. You are a childhood cancer inpatient, have beem for years, and everyone has always been sweet and kind to you, because of course they are. You're a sick, pathetic child, and you won't die to cancer, but to some old person's disease that you can't pronounce. Sometimes you wish it was cancer though. The outside world seems scary, and chemo has not been gentle to your growing body. You're afraid that everyone outside will be mean, and since your mom's forehead says "car crash", you know she won't be around forever, and that scares you just as much.

Everyone has a timer over their head, counting down to their death. Before you were old enough to understand, you made friends with a sweet girl in your elementary class, and the weekend after she first kissed you she left and never returned. Her house caught on fire and killed only her and her cat, and your 9-year-old self cried for weeks. You're hesitant to make any friends now. You have decades to live, but your heart can only break so many times.

Everyone has a timer over their head, counting down to their death. You've lived a long life, and hospitals don't take older patients that are dying soon. You're laying in your bed, feeling life draining out of you as your final minutes tick by. What's left of your family is here to bid adieu. Your son and daughter, one of their spouses, and three of their children. They all leave when you ask; when you reach your last minute. You're closing your eyes when your grandson bursts back in, chased by his cousins, and they all cling to your sheets with big blobs of tears in their eyes. The last thing you hear is a sorrowful chorus of "we love you".

Everyone has their cause of death written on their forehead. Many people cover it up with makeup, maybe feeling shameful, maybe feeling fearful. You do the same, not wanting anyone to ask questions. Youve spent years people pleasing, enough so to wear you down to the bone. It's rare for someone's cause of death to change, but it usually makes the news. One day, feeling your absolute worst, you look in the mirror to cover your forehead and find that "dehydration" had been replaced with "drowning". Finding sick humor in it, you laugh, then cry, and finish your makeup. Only a month later, calmly standing on the edge of a pier on a stormy night, where the waves whipped and crashed against the shore, do you realize that somehow, you had shortened your fate, and that perhaps more people's fates changed, but the news didnt want to talk about lives cutting off sooner than expected.

Everyone has a timer over their head, counting down to their death. You were born with a timer five minutes longer than your mother's, and your sister was born with one second less than yours. Your brother, too, had a timer shorter than yours, by almost an hour, just barely shorter than your father's. All your life you knew you'd all die on the same day, so you treated everyone kindly and lived to the best of your ability, but did not work on your grades, or your physique, or love life, or anything. It didn't matter anyway, not if you'd die before you were twenty. You kissed someone once, you volunteered at shelters, and counted down with your timer to the day you'd all die. It came in the form of their house exploding, and your father and brother suffocated under rubble. An hour later, still trapped inside, your mom was struck in the head by falling debris as she tried in vain to retrieve their bodies, and you hugged your sister tight. You looked at each other's timers, smiling one last time before the house exploded again, long at bitter peace with what you knew would happen.

Everyone has their cause of death written on their forehead. You felt at peace when you married your husband, because just like you, he was fated for a car crash. You trusted that you would die together, and he often soothed you when you got in the driver's seat beside him, because you still wanted to be with him. On a dark rainy night, you took a turn too quickly and you both tumbled over a cliff, and you met eyes as you fell, knowing that was it, and you had lived and loved as much as you could. But you wake up alone later, in the emergency room, and the doctors deliver the horrifying news that you now had no one to come home to. You knew then that you could never drive again, amd there was nothing more cruel than losing the peace you had grown comfortable in.

everybody’s always on writing prompts like “what if there was a world where everyone had a timer ticking down to their death… but you met someone whose timer said infinity!” or “what if everyone had their cause of death tattooed across their forehead… but you met someone whose forehead said THE CREATURE!” Enough -

enough. stop with the shock value. there is no need to insert THE CREATURE; the benign concept of such a world is horrifying enough. not even in urgency, but just in banal, everyday interaction. imagine you meet someone and their timer says two years. not tomorrow, not urgently soon, but two years. enough to do quite a lot. they could fall in love in that time - could they get engaged? have a baby? you might otherwise get to know them, befriend them, but perhaps you opt not to, make a conscious choice not to invest in your own grief. what balancing act would every individual person have to participate in - I have ten years, is that long enough to be a good mother to children? is that long enough to secure a caretaker for my own mother? my wife will die a few months before me. my newborn’s timer reads nineteen years.

and cause of death. you interview for a job and emblazoned across the healthy, smiling face of the HR lady is MALNUTRITION. your country is prospering, safe, but every person you meet on the street from the babies to the old women read BOMB. BOMB. what kind of havoc would fate wreak on the world? what about the loss of privacy? how would that shape our notions of hope? idk man I think a lot of those ancient poems were right, and the fates are monsters. I’m interested by the framing of these ideas as trite horror tales when the premises themselves are so much more disturbing if simply taken to their logical ends

[majestic-trilliums]

2023, I fell in love..

It’s crazy to even think about, but I did… I fell in love. But with that love, I found a lot of hurt, and confusion that came with it, and with that, I learned more about him and his reaction to things through everything he did.

At first, it was actually really cool.. I let him in on a big dream of mine, and that was to travel, write, and take pictures… And because of his duty, it made things really easy for us to travel and see each other. We spent day and night getting to know one another, laughing, smiling, and bickering like normal relationships with people do. But with all that, also came a foundation we were working on, that was so half-assed, it crumbled every time..

The more that I just let slide, actually had a big effect on me later. I felt so good, that I was blatantly ignoring every sign my body was throwing at me.. in the beginning, I reacted to things with ease.. and in the end, I couldn’t even recognize who I was..

But through time, I grew so frustrated, that I couldn’t stand the way I was feeling internally and externally. I got into a car accident right after I met him, that totaled my vehicle. and as a result, I have hip pains that are so severe, I can’t lay on my bed directly on my back.. (idk what’s wrong, never got to see a dr) My hormones were out of wack due to my birth control and my meds.. my “general area” was always inflamed after s*x, with links to “pre cervical cancer” (which went away on its own) I got my wisdom teeth pulled that year, and my mouth has been irritated since..

Now that’s only the physical reaction I had… mentally, I was so checked out, by the 6th month of our relationship, I was no longer the happy go lucky person I knew.. And I’m telling you, I like to think of myself like a little kid. Nothing to worry about, and just happy to be where I was. And then I wasn’t… because every single time I tried to communicate about how I felt, or how he was making me feel, I was manipulated and gaslit into the idea, that the way I was feeling was false and as if it didn’t matter.. So putting my feelings aside, as long as one of us are happy, that’s all that mattered. To this day, I truly don’t know why there ended up being so many lies, blatant disrespect, confusion, and malice throughout our entire relationship… making it nothing more than a lie itself. He was lying to himself and to me, which resulted in the downfall of my trust for him as a person, and our relationship as a whole. And it all started to go downhill after I started talking about our relationship to third party individuals, about how he continuously disregarded me, my spirituality, my bodily functions, and my mental state… And the more I caught onto his bs, the less I let it slide… which again, resulted in his resentment towards me, cause now he ain’t getting everything he wants, when he wanted. He took advantage of the wrong person, and when I started to give less, the worse he made me feel. I’m still getting over it, but it’s because after everything I continued to give, he still lied to me. He still moves like he can just get me back like nothing happened… he still doesn’t know what he wants, whether it be taking care of himself first, and doing the right thing or if he wants to be with me… Throughout these last 6 months, I’ve been the most disrespectful that I have ever been. And through this discovery, the more I was angry, the less I thought of myself. I was trying so hard to have him understand how he made me feel, that it only mattered when he was getting the disrespect. I did find the “why” in all of this… and sadly, it’s because he believed, and I quote “I owed him something, for him getting me out of my home state.” When for a matter of fact, I didn’t need him to save me, or get me out of anywhere. It was great and everything while it lasted. But what matters to me more, is trust. And having the understanding, that I, as a human, don’t owe anyone (other than myself) anything. No matter what you think you did for me, I did 10x that… (which is why you were so surprised when I told you, I was no longer going to be with you.) because I did everything to make sure you were happy, and you did nothing in return, but let your parents disregard me too. I don’t care “if you’re not that person” you are. You have proven it to me time and time again, you haven’t grown.

It’s to the point, where I will no longer tolerate the in and out nonsense that comes from this relationship or any relationship for that matter. I learned how valuable boundaries are, but there are some that are just unspoken that I shouldn’t have to reiterate. Which have to do with basic human decency, respect, and lines you shouldn’t cross with a person you “love.”

It hurts that I fell in love with this false idea of who you are, because you just don’t want to be open and transparent with me, yourself, or your family. You don’t take accountability for what you did, you blame it on someone else. You take the pain I feel, and push it so far under the rug, you don’t see how it’s been spilling out everyday you withhold information and feelings within yourself…. You can’t even be honest with yourself whether or not you want to be with me. So finally, you begin to loosen the grip you hold on me, and you can see that I’m no longer under your influence anymore, because that florescent light that once shined off of me, has found it’s way back.. and it’s brighter than ever..

Everyday I have to remind myself, that everything that happened, had nothing to do with me, but more to do with him, his growth, his family and the way he feels about himself…

I did learn valuable lessons from this. More self respect, more selfishness, to be openly honest and vulnerable is one of the bravest things a person can do, this relationship brought my family closer together, I got a deeper understanding of myself and my thought process… I let go of a lot of people I didn’t think I would’ve.. I met new people, who also helped me see who I was..friends moved away… I now understand what I need from a relationship to grow together. I know who I want to be in a relationship, and learned who I don’t…

But most of all, I found my destiny. And everyday I find myself closer and closer to what that dream looks like. I’m scared, but also very excited.

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

158 of 2024

Created by chasingghosts

Are you better at science, maths or art?

Definitely science. This is why I have a degree in electrical engineering, after all.

Do you have any songs in your head at the moment?

Yeah, that mashup of Evanescence and Paradise Lost. Went out cool, honestly.

Do you ever get more than one song stuck in your head?

Almost all the time, and they rotate.

What is your favourite kind of cheese?

Gouda, but young.

Are you happy with your height? Would you change it if you could?

I wouldn't mind being a bit taller.

Did you ever call any teachers by their first name? Who?

Yeah, in my uni there's a habit of calling teachers by their first name.

How old were your parents when you were born?

Mum was 27, dad was 37.

Were you born in a hospital, or somewhere else?

In the hospital, but it took a few days, really. Eventually they had to perform C-section because my mum didn't have any birth cramps at all.

Do you often have doors held open for you?

No, I don't think so.

Have you ever shoplifted, even just once? What did you take?

Yeah, once. I stole a ring lol. Got caught, never again.

Have you ever witnessed someone else shoplifting? Did you say something?

No, I haven't.

Do you know anyone who volunteers a lot?

I don't think so.

Have you ever been cheated on? Tell me your story.

Yeah, by my first ex. He couldn't stand the fact I wasn't ready for sex at all. He was cheating on me with multiple people and he didn't even bother to hide it.

Which would you choose between choc chip cookies and oat & raisin cookies?

Raisins are disgusting, so can we please have some oat cookies without raisins?

Write the first person you think of whose name begins with T?

Timmy. I saw him at the security reception at work today.

When was the last time you got a haircut?

Long time ago. I'm trying to grow my hair longer again.

What did you have for dinner tonight, or last night if you haven't yet?

I haven't yet, last night it was Chinese takeaway.

Do you plan ahead for your dinners?

Not when we're alone. We only do it when our kid is with us.

Do you have a night of the week where you usually get takeout?

No, I do it whenever I fancy it.

Is your hair thick, thin, or somewhere in between?

Somewhere in between.

Are there many baby photos of you? Where are they kept?

No, I don't think there are any saved.

Are you the eldest child?

Yes, I am. I have a younger sister.

Have you ever worked with someone named Kelly?

No, but Kelly was one of my drivers when I was daily inpatient in rehabilitation ward in the hospital.

Have you ever been in the same class as someone named Emma?

No, I haven't.

Have you ever kissed someone named Luke?

No, never.

Do you have any neighbours with loud animals or children?

No, thankfully not anymore. I like kids and animals, but I can't stand loud crying or howling or barking.

How old were you when you had your first crush?

Like... 20? No kidding.

When was the last time you were so sick you couldn't get out of bed?

Last month. Stomach flu.

What colour is your bath towel at the moment?

White and blue stripes.

Do you blow-dry, towel-dry or air-dry your hair?

Towel dry in winter and air dry in summer.

Are your parents smokers, or have they ever been?

Yeah, both. My dad quit since he was diagnosed with cancer, though.

Can you count to ten in any other languages? Which one(s)?

A lot. Dutch, English, German, Finnish, Swedish, Polish, Romanian, French, Spanish.

What have you eaten today?

Leftover rice from yesterday's Chinese takeout.

When was the last time you stayed in a hotel? Where was it?

In Waterloo, April 2022.

Do you drink alcohol?

No, I don't. I had to quit completely, same with caffeine.

[jodilinbio]

Part 47

Written in 2012

2012 turned out to be one of our best years, though it came with significant losses. This time, it wasn’t about financial or material loss—it was about death. I find myself almost wondering who might be next.

On February 24th, my father passed away. Then, on September 23rd, my mother followed. On October 15th, my beloved Italian foster mom died, and on December 21st, my brother Larry succumbed to liver cancer.

We also lost two pet rats—first Tinkerboy, then a baby rat we’d adopted to keep Romeo, Tink’s replacement, company. Sugar has since joined us to fill Julien’s place.

In January, Nane and I reconciled and I’m in touch with her, others I’ve mentioned, as well as Becky and Maria from Valleyhead.

In the spring, Tom secured a new job with excellent pay and benefits, even though the hours are tough. With this stability, I was finally able to address my dental needs, getting cavities filled and a bridge to replace a tooth I’d lost back in Oregon.

June brought an unexpected shock: Kim proved to be worse than Molly in some ways. I’d known she was a bit odd and not particularly sharp, but I never anticipated she’d turn into a relentless stalker. Alison and I both cut ties with her. While she’s left Alison alone—likely because Alison has since joined the FBI—she continues to target me anonymously on a question-and-answer site.

Kim’s excessive behaviors and repetitive questions were always annoying, but what truly disturbed me was her lack of empathy and respect. Her fascination with celebrities and role-playing, something we were aware of, became problematic when she started impersonating celebrities on sites like Twitter. This was more than just fondness—it was an obsession. When confronted, she would immediately deny it, deactivate her account, and become highly defensive—a classic guilty reaction, as Aly observed.

Aly suspected that Kim was anonymously asking her rude and personal questions on the question site as well. When I realized Kim was likely behind it, based on her activity on the site, she reacted as she usually did when caught and called out: she blocked me on Facebook. I thought that would be the end of it, but I was wrong. Confronting her only caused her to follow and bully us everywhere.

If I’d known that confronting her would provoke this crap, I’d have quietly distanced myself as Aly did. I now see that the woman I once considered a friend held a hidden resentment toward me—and likely toward others as well. Gone are any feelings of sympathy for her and I can see why her older sister has custody of her. She likely has some form of retardation.

Kim has now resorted to pestering me under anonymity, reaching out not just as celebrities but as people Aly and I actually know. Though her questions are often harmless and casual, the fact that she won’t respect my requests to leave me alone is deeply troubling. It’s even more bothersome when she tries to contact Andy. He may not mind, but I do. I’ve had to keep my Facebook friends list hidden and restrict my profile to friends only for privacy so they don’t end up being harassed just for being connected to me.

Molly now lives in a group home and may have issues, but she’s only ever been Molly. Molly seldom contacts me and doesn’t hide behind anonymity.

After four years of dealing with Molly and seven months of Kim, I wonder how much longer this will continue. If Molly becomes problematic again, I could potentially report her to her group home. But with Kim, there’s no one to hold accountable except herself.

With my parents’ deaths came a newfound resentment toward them that surpasses anything I’ve ever felt. Their masks were stripped away, and the false “wealthy” image they tried so hard to project was exposed when it was discovered that my mother—likely without my father’s knowledge—had gone on a credit card spree in their final years. Maybe they were never truly wealthy, but they were quite comfortable most of their lives, and they could’ve done more to help me if they’d cared enough. When I saw photos of their beautiful condo, I felt more resentment than happiness for them. They lived well while my husband and I struggled in a rundown trailer, even though we worked as hard—if not harder—to get ahead.

When they rescued us from homelessness in 2007, I was immensely grateful, feeling almost as if I owed them my life despite their past treatment. But as time went on, I realized they hadn’t always been there for me when I truly needed them. Yes, they helped in 2007, but where were they when I needed rescuing from institutions like Brattleboro Retreat or Valleyhead? Or when I was living in poverty on disability and food stamps in the slums?

In the end, Dad’s heart gave out as we’d expected it might someday, and shortly afterward, my mother suffered a stroke and lost the will to live. They were both cremated, but I refused my mom’s ashes. I cried a little when Dad passed but didn’t shed a tear for Mom or Larry, nor will I ever.

Have you ever suddenly come to a realization about something? For years, I’d wondered whether she gave me up or if the State took me away. Then, out of the blue one day, the answer hit me as I thought back on my last morning at home before the State took over. She gave me up. That’s why she was so determined to get me up for school and out to the bus that morning, even though I insisted I didn’t feel well.

Once I got older, more mature, and able to see her for who she truly was, it all made sense. Her behavior aligned with everything I’d come to understand about her; after all, she never wanted me around to begin with.

Anyway, their vehicle, store, and condo were recently sold off, bit by bit. Despite their shortcomings, it was sad to see parts of their lives being sold one by one. I may receive a small inheritance, though nothing near what they’d led me to expect over the years. I’ve had my hopes dashed about money before, but this time will be the last.

I assumed I would drift away from my remaining family entirely after my parents’ deaths, but life doesn’t always go as expected. Surprisingly, Tammy and I have grown closer, and I now keep in touch with two of my four nieces.

Jennifer has allowed her father’s lies to keep her away, Lisa has some serious issues, and I have a nephew I don’t know or care to know. Only God knows how many children Larry fathered before he passed—he was a bit of a ladies’ man. He married a 21-year-old named Stefanie, and they had a son named Jason. Most would agree that 21 is too young to have a child and 58 is too old, but that was Larry for you—a great sense of humor and quite a character.

Tammy and I have always been different in many ways, but enduring the same abusive upbringing has created a bond between us. She’s let me vent and cry, and she and her husband, Mark, plan to visit us soon.

Even my extended family has reached out. I’m now connected with cousins Philip, Sharyn, Michelle, and Norma on Facebook. My Aunt Ruth, Uncle Ronnie, and other cousins still ignore me, but that’s okay. I only want people in my life who truly want to be there, and I only want to be part of the lives of those who want me in theirs.

The hardest loss was Anne’s, my Italian foster mom. Though I only stayed with her briefly when I was 16, she and her husband, Harry, left a permanent, treasured mark on my heart. They were the parents I never had but always wished for.

The way I discovered Mom’s passing was almost surreal. She popped into my mind out of the blue one day, and I was flooded with memories and dreams of my time with her. I tried searching for her, but it was as if she had disappeared. I hoped that since I couldn’t find an obituary, she must still be alive. Deep down, though, I think I knew otherwise.

Later, while studying Italian, I realized I’d been misspelling her maiden and married names. When I searched again, I found her obituary and burst into tears. I was too late. She had passed peacefully at 81, surrounded by family. It was a bittersweet comfort to know she hadn’t suffered, and I was surprised to learn Harry was still alive. Unsure if he had an online presence at his age, I decided to write him a letter.

I regret not staying in touch and not having the chance to say goodbye. But the night before I discovered her obituary, I had a strong feeling—could it have been her spirit saying goodbye? Was it a psychic moment, or just a strange coincidence? Even one of the rats acted out of character, leaping from my arms as if suddenly startled by something unseen. Who knows if he sensed something I couldn’t. This wasn’t the first time someone popped into mind that I soon discovered recently passed.

Aside from a possible unexpected onset of menopause (I’m over two weeks late), Tom and I are in good health and are excited to buy a mobile home in a 55+ community this year!

[lifeproblemingcat]

As they say, on Wednesdays we wear pink. and even more so during October. like i currently am. I'm not sure if my professor's choice of a satiny fuchsia shirt today was because of this, but still i was somewhat inspired.

it isn't something many people know, but when I was 9, we got the dreaded call.... even though I will always be thankful it was caught before it spread further, it was the first time I'd ever heard my mom cry - not even when my grandmother, her mother, had passed a few years prior. 

around two months later, after surgery, it was officially gone. that day after school I stayed with a family friend who had a family history of it and therefore only bought organic foods for her family, avoiding processed foods as much as possible.  

back then I was surprised people would go to such lengths, but as my mom began to deride everything as "cancer foods!!!" .... I'll just say I have never looked at a hot dog, Halloween candy, or many things the same again. For a while, beet soups and smoothies were commonplace in my house.  ...

Much as I would love to say "and that was that", it wasn't. the medication she took for five years afterward to prevent occurrence in the other side eventually led to her developing a rare blood condition that has been classified as a blood cancer. regular blood draws have somewhat helped, but between western and "traditional" medicine, there isn't really a treatment. 

...

I have performed the occasional self exam since I started going through puberty, like is that something we're supposed to do? no. they don't even tell people to get mammograms until age 40.  Umm... that's that, I guess. 

I'm not going to share everything. but honestly the way people hear about it and say "I'm sorry" makes me feel weird. I hate that we're at a place where I know I am privileged that she is still here, much as our relationship is up and down, and still able to work full time. and I hate that there have been so many people who do not have that privilege. the number increases every day. 

but yes, one of my biggest fears is that I, too, will get it.

so remember. and be aware.

[coveredinmula]

It’s been nine months since my father was diagnosed with a rare blood cancer, we caught it in time thanks to the doctors at the University Hospital. I knew it would only be a short time before it got worse, the meds were expensive and the trials also cost an arm and leg. It was just the two of us, my mother left us when I was ten years old. If I saw her I’d be liable to punch her in the face, she was being saved by her ex husband.

‘I’ll be fine Jenesis, you need to focus on those books.’

Having to lie to my father was even harder, I put classes on hold and did all I could to keep us afloat and the bills paid on time. I gave him the best smile I could muster, my nerves were fried thanks to my home girl, Stormi pulled some strings and hooked me up at the club she works at. At first I said no, shaking my ass wasn’t an option, what if word got back to my dad? He’d be so disappointed in me.

“I’ll be back before four okay? Nurse Vanessa will be here in twenty minutes, don’t give her any trouble this time.”

‘Who’s the parent here? Now go on, babe. Tell Stormi I said hello.’

My father Kaine said, giving me a hug and shooing me out of the house with a laugh. I shook my head, closing the door and locking it. I walked to the waiting car, Stormi was already blowing smoke out of the window with the music turned up enough for me to hear when I got close. I snatched the door open, slid into the seat and looked ahead.

‘Calm down, Jenesis. Remember this is just a try out, don’t think too much about it. You got a body for it, you take dance lessons from Mari. You’ll be fine.’

She passed me the joint, I took three long puffs and handed it right back. The drive to Club Milli was a quiet one except for the music playing from the speakers, twenty minutes later we were pulling up and getting out. With the line out the door, my stomach was touching my ankles. I wanted to go back home, find another way to get money for the first round of trials. I have a date to meet and it was Friday which was two days away.

“Storm there’s so many people here, Jesus.”

‘I know, it means more money for your pockets. Let’s go.’

Storm grabbed my wrist, pulling me towards the back entrance. After scanning her badge, we were in and the bouncer was patting both of us down. His large palms stayed a second too long on my ass, ick filled my head as I moved out of the way and headed for the dancers room. I came with no outfits, however I was assured that the house woman or whatever would see to me getting the appropriate clothes.

I looked around, women in skimpy outfits, some with just those pasties on their tits and vaj. This was the kind of club I did not see myself working in for long, getting completely naked wasn’t something I wanted to do for a living. Not bashing those that do it, ugh my mind was all over the place and I needed to focus on the task at hand right now. I sat when told to sit, the lady who does make and clothing came over.

‘Hello, mami. I’m Cindy and I’m here to help you get ready, I already have your outfit ready and you’re on after Lori.’

Cindy spoke and did my makeup, after fifteen minutes I was done. I looked at the mirror with a gasp, she smiled, I smiled. I look good as fuck, standing up and getting dressed. I came back dressed in a two piece set, pink and white with a frilly flare. My ass was sitting up nice, tits perky and I was once again becoming self conscious. Storm came over with a bottle of Casamigos and two show glasses, pouring into both. I knocked back mine, then I got another.

‘You ready? Lori is almost done, the MC is going to announce your name and you’ll go out there and show out.’

She was more excited than I was, another shot and I was feeling better about this. After the last song went off, the Lori chick walked back in with a smug smirk.

‘Good luck after that.’

I ignored her.

‘𝐀𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭!! 𝐖𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝!! 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐉𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬!’

The MC got the crowd hyped, I walked out to men and women cheering. The club was a multi level club, people were on all levels and had the perfect view of the stage. He played the first song Stormi told him to: 𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗘𝘅𝗰𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗠𝘆 𝗛𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀 — 𝗣𝗹𝗶𝗲𝘀, 𝗝𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗲 𝗙𝗼𝘅𝘅 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗧𝗵𝗲-𝗗𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺.

When the song started I moved to the front of the stage where the pole was, I leaned back against the metal, pushing my hips back and forth, hands moving down my body. I spun around the pole next, lifting up and letting gravity take over. I stopped and slowly slid into a split, pushing away from the pole. I rode the ground, before poking my ass out, closing my legs and getting into doggy style.

The next song played: 𝗜 𝗜𝗻𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗦𝗲𝘅 — 𝗧𝗿𝗲𝘆 𝗦𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘇.

I crawled to the pole, lifting myself up and practically fucked the damn thing, climbing up and l locking my legs around it as I bent back. My hips bounced, pumped and gyrated to the beat of the song. Money rained over the stage, climbing even higher and spun in circles, clapping my heels. I let go, closing my legs again around it to stop myself. I stood up, bent over shaking my ass.

When Trey said who’s coming home with me, I looked at the crowd and pointed with a grind of my hips and a little hand moving down my body. I dropped to my knees, pulling my body to the edge of the stage. The liquor was having me out of pocket, turning around and pushing, legs spread open in a V-shape with my palms on the ground. I popped each cheek, the guy was so enthralled that he threw all his money.

Standing back up, blowing a kiss to the crowd as they erupted into applause and throwing whatever money they had. I walked off the stage in utter shock, like I wasn’t even in control of my own body. Stormi was screaming and clapping, telling me I did that shit. She told me that my money would be collected and given to me.

——/——/——

That was six months ago, I’ve been stripping and dancing for almost half a year now and I’ve loved it. My dad got onto the trial list, what I didn’t know was someone was watching me the entire time.

End.