#been typing this off and on since like 6:30 this morning hopefully it's at least a little legible lol

[ranger-kellyn]

i did end up finishing the new avatar last night, and yeah. my final thoughts are: it was fine. i think the first episode was the best, and it never really got above that. it tells the story it's setting out to tell. the bending is beautifully animated, the settings are all gorgeous, and i even actually enjoyed most of the costuming. there were times i thought some of the outfits looked out of place or cheap, but overall, for 2024, good. the backdrops made me want to spend hours exploring every nook and cranny.

beyond that, though.... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

What's Not Working: -the insistence that the past avatars are all these hardened assholes who insist the avatar must "do it alone" and I think it was Kuruk who said "there's no 'Team Avatar'!" like?????

in the fucking FORWARD OF THE RISE OF KYOSHI, the forward that was written by Michael Dante DiMartino: "And the Avatar universe has no shortage of "must-haves." ... The Avatar can't do all this alone and thus must also have a core group of teachers and friends--a Team Avatar, as we like to call it."

LIKE!!!!!!! Team Avatar is literally a must have for the avatar!!!!!!! how can you insist all the past avatars would be hounding aang to do it alone??????????????

-i'm still fuming at having fucking kyoshi of all avatar's get onto aang for "not being there"???? one of kyoshi's whole fucking things was her anger with powerful men in the world who did nothing but abuse that power. she would never get onto a 12 year old child who just had the weight of the world thrust onto their shoulders after the genocide of their people-- HELLO???? am i too much of a kyoshi stan????? am i the insane one here?????????

-apparently sokka's actor claimed to be cherokee, but he's just a member of the southern cherokee nation of kentucky. which is on the cherokee fraud list. and while i know the bullshit that comes with blood quantum and trace lineage and just how hard it is for a tribe to get federally recognized bc heaven for fucking bid we treat natives with any dignity-- s i g h glad to see the whole "my great, great grandmother was a cherokee princess who ran away during the trail of tears!!" is still alive 🙄

-the show is absolutely suffering from the whole "the original show's s1 was like 20 episodes all around 25-ish minutes that we're now having to cram into 8 1-hour episodes".

so, in some ways, i get why they took out sokka's sexism: they didn't have the time to spend actually letting him learn.

still think it was a coward's choice.

speaking as a former shitty kid who was raised by shitty people with their shitty, narrow world views, in small town with shitty, narrow views: it's so fucking important for kids like me to see that you can change your mind. that you can have your world view challenged, and changed for the better.

-all the romance so far just Does Not Land with me. i'm a hopeless romantic, sure, but it's all so...Underdeveloped, I guess. idk if i'm the best judge here. i am the kind of person who loves a slow burn bc i love seeing every note of the relationship develop.

but it's just.....idk. sokka/suki, to me, has always been a "we're only together bc you were the first person my age i've met and i think you're cute". they're not a pairing that i think would last into adulthood. at most, they would be amiable exes who still do love one another, but are just not going in the same direction.

sokka/yue...i have to be honest that never made sense to me. again, it's just a "you're my age and you're cute" and for yue "you treat me like a regular person", but even then, their interactions were so brief in this adaptation-- if they go through with the "my girlfriend turned into the moon" "that's rough buddy" thing at the boiling rock later on, it's just......not. going to land the same way, i think.

-i know it wasn't until later in the original series that we saw it, but i still hate how it just seems like "all fire nation is bad and evil and wants to destroy the world" and it's not until the gaang is hiding out in the fire nation that you see that many of the fire nation citizen's are also negatively affected by the imperial core-- i just. wish they would have some fucking guts and show that in the live action. i wish they would show that not every fire nation soldier is this heartless war machine. if they had any balls they would show just how much military bootcamps brainwash people (but considering the us gov literally has a whole section of an agency dedicated to making sure the us military looks good on screen, i guess i know why they wouldn't take that risk. can't risk making big brother angry.)

-all of this to say that like. there's just no real storytelling risks being made!!! the point of a new adaptation should be to have a chance to tell some stories the original medium wouldn't let you! it was a kids/teen's show on nickelodeon! i'm not saying go all-out grimdark tooedgy5me, but like?????? throw me a bone SOMETHING

i made the comparison early on of "nothing worse than what happened to the earth queen in korra" and yeah. it. never really even got to that level in my opinion??

like, sure, the fire lord/fire nation soldiers burning people alive-- yeah yeah bad. killing the earth queen by suffocating her with airbending???? a bending form that was generally accepted as "peaceful"?????? that shit was fucking insane. come on pull on that string some more if you really wanted a more mature telling for the viewers you're nostalgia baiting into watching.

-----

What Is Working / Could Work If They Don't Fucking FUMBLE IT

-The biggest standout for me is Azula. i think they are nailing azula's character, and if they play their cards right, could do even better than the original* of showing just how tragic of a character she is. (*i'm not including any of the comics that came after the show ended since i've never read them and have no reference) (but also i'm not gonna hold my breath lmao)

i think it was a great choice to not have her be the season ending cliffhanger reveal of "ooh the new Big Bad", but showing how ozai was using zuko to goad her into a non-stop pursuit of perfection.

like, not to be an azula apologist on main, but, she really is just a perfectly tragic character. a child born in the heart of the imperial empire. a child that stood no chance at not being brainwashed by the empire. a child that her father saw as a weapon, and her mother and uncle only saw as a monster. a child who had no guidance from someone "good". zuko got iroh, azula got......nobody. the only thing azula got was the demand of perfection from her father.

sure, she had mai and ty lee, but they were her age. they didn't have the wisdom and experience to help guide her to a better path.

i think of the final fight with zuko and katara vs azula, and i think of that final moment where she's on the ground, spitting fire and just sobbing. she knows all too well what happens to people who fail the fire lord. and she knows what's going to happen to her if/when they lose the war.

-relating to above, i really do think the casting overall was pretty good. apart from sokka, it was only here and there i thought they should have done another round of casting. the youth of all the actors really just. hits home with how these are children having to save the world. aang is so babyfaced right now i just want to protect him and fight all the prev avatars for demanding a literal baby to protect the world. the child-roundness to azula's face makes her all the more tragic to me.

and i must admit-- daddy ozai fire lord ozai.......... 👀🥵

(but i will also readily admit i didn't look into the exact nationality of every actor bc i'm just one person and i also work a full time job so like)

-again, i think the scenery was great, overall. i think the people who did all the animated backgrounds for everywhere did a fantastic job of capturing the atmosphere. 10/10 hopefully it carries through bc i can't wait to see other locations.

-i am glad they seemed to have cut the shit with the northern(?idr) air temple from the original. being native and knowing just what it's like to see the homeland of your ancestors being taken over by people who just. don't. take care of the land the way it was supposed to-- it never sat right with me.

-----

Overall

again, it's fine at best. it tells the story it's looking to tell. it's imperfect, but so was the original by plenty of margins. as emphasized with azula, an endless pursuit of the nebulous concept of perfection will only end in disaster, or in this case, the denial of any enjoyment. i've spent 9 hours of my life in worse ways.

i'm sure i'll think of other things i could have added to either side of my list here, but yeah. it's fine. i still recommend the original any day over it, and i cannot recommend the kyoshi novels enough. i think i saw netflix say on the banner that the next 2 seasons are confirmed, so i'll probably watch it to the end.

i'm just excited that my yangchen novels get here today, because at least i can trust that F. C. Yee won't disappoint me

[godtiercomplex]

maya fertility journal #1

gonna start blogging more about my fertility journey as like a Thing.

under the cut is just ramblings that won't make any sorta sense.

1/21/2024

so since 2021 i've been trying to get pregnant. in 2022 i underwent two rounds of iui treatment that were unsuccessful. i have several medical conditions that are gonna make pregnancy difficult to say the least.

19-21 year old maya never thought they'd be wanting to get pregnant after the whole ovarian cancer nearly killed me thing, but here we are at 28-30 trying soooo hard. i was devastated to say the least when the 2022 iui didn't work? so i put a pause on it and just focused on transitioning out of the classroom. you can't like get pregnant when you're in that much stress, i figured.

so now i'm working at a new job and it also comes with fertility treatments covered up to 30K! this is great news cuz it's gonna be about 23-25K to do the first round of ivf...!!! ivf is def for those white rich types ngl.

anyway i was told that because of my weight increasing like 30 pounds since 2022 (i had to go off this medicine that was helping me lose weight in order to attempt iui cuz it's harmful to a baby) i had to lose 35-40 pounds. so for like seven months i've been trying to do exactly that! i was so excited this morning when i stepped on that scale and i've lost like 25 pounds. now i just need to lose an additional 10-15 pounds!!! then i can try ivf and hopefully it works! hopefully !!!!

my goal weight is to be around 250 pounds or under so that even when i stop my meds and my weight bounces back up i don't gain sooo much that it disqualifies me again. my doctor just wants me to be around 260 pounds or under.

i checked this morning and my scale says i'm 264 pounds--so hopefully the doctor's scale next month says i've hit 260~ pounds... i go in for an official weight check next month on feb 9th. the doctor scale is usually off by 5 pounds or so compared to my home scale. it's annoying af. hopefully i can get to 250 pounds or under by mid-march!!!

i...also have to still buy the sperm which is sooo ridiculously expensive. like ugh. it's $2,195 for ONE vial of sperm.

i did get my sperm donor approved tho! so that's great news as well. he's a korean dude since one of my wife's conditions for our sperm donor was that he be a man of color. because fertility treatments are like centered around rich white folks it has been a journey to try and find a man of color sperm donor that i like. there's like so few black sperm donors that have enough vials available... !! so we just went with the second highest donor pool which is typically asian men. like after white men, it's asian men, specifically east asian men.

my original sperm bank closed and my original chinese donor i used for the IUIs is no longer available. so i had to go with a new bank and i tried to pick one that has a legacy and like doesn't seem like it might fucking close!!!

we're also trying to make sure that our child can access the donor once they're 18 if they would like to. so that's adding to why it's so expensive for the sperm. like if we just went with an anonymous donor it'd be so much cheaper--however i am not going to deny my future kids the right to know their heritage.

anyway, it's been a whirlwind cuz on top of the whole trying to get pregnant thing i'm also dealing with marital issues. but... like it or not, i'll be okay even if i have to be a single parent.

it's fine.

my current goal is to lose this weight + get the sperm purchased by mid march/april so that i can do the attempt in mid april/early may to hopefully produce a pregnancy and have a baby in early 2025. i'm also trying to plan it for when my fmla will be available for me to start using because baby ! i wanna be able to enjoy the full 12 weeks with my kiddo. i also love my job for giving us six weeks of paid fmla leave... that's so cool. i'm going to save up my vacation leave to cover the rest of that 6 weeks!!!

so yeah, just a lot going on. but i think i'm in a better position emotionally and soon to be mentally and physically to attempt more fertility treatments.

[poisonedapples]

Patton’s Home for Traumatized Kids - Chapter Three

New School and Friendships

Chapter Summary: Roman has his first day in a new district while some bonds are strengthened.

First Chapter Previous Chapter Story Masterlist

Warnings: Past abuse mentions, mentions of hidden cameras, anxiety, some bullying, crying, and food mentions

Chapter Word Count: 5,860

Taglist: @shade-romeo, @grayson-22, @pixelated-pineapple, @acrobaticcatfeline, @astrozei, @edupunkn00b, @princey-7258

“Hey, dad?”

“Yeah?” Roman’s dad turned to face him. Roman felt his whole body start to shake.

“You know how you said that…I could ask for anything from you? Since, uh- since you didn’t know what present to get me last time?”

His dad smiled in a way so normal it was disturbing. “Got an idea?”

“Yeah, uh…I want a canopy bed.”

His dad’s face dropped, and Roman could feel the anxiety and regret bloom through his chest. “You know why I can’t do that, Roman.”

“Please? I know it’s probably a bit much to replace my whole bed frame, but I could make my own canopy for cheaper! I’ve already looked at a bunch of ways online how, I just need you to buy the materials-”

“It’s a no.” Roman’s dad looked angry, and Roman would’ve done anything to run the other direction at that moment. To burst out the door and never come back. “Nice try, Roman, but I’m not stupid. Come back when you have a better idea.”

Roman blinked to fight back the tears. “…I’m sorry.”

“Go back to your room.”

Roman ran up the stairs as fast as he could, wishing more than anything that there was a lock on his door. Instead, Roman took his desk chair and propped it against the knob for some kind of security, curling into the corner of his room as he shook and tugged at his hair.

He tried to block out the knowledge of the security camera on his shelf, hidden well but not well enough, pointed right at his bed.

***

Several fast knocks came onto Roman’s bedroom door, waking him up with a jerk. He groggily pushed open the curtain in front of his head to grab his phone and look at the time. Six o’clock on the dot, it read. Ugh.

The knocking on the door didn’t stop, and Roman whined. “What?” He called out.

“Get dressed, we need to leave the house by 6:30.” He heard Logan call back.

“Fine, fine.” Roman pushed the curtains out of the way and practically rolled out of bed, grabbing the clothes he’d organized for himself the night before. He put on a pair of jeans with a white and red t-shirt, nothing fancy but fancy enough for a first day surrounded by strangers. He grabbed his backpack and put his phone and some earbuds in his pocket before heading downstairs to the kitchen.

“Morning, kiddo!” Patton chirped as he made breakfast, “Didja sleep well?”

“Yes, I did.” That was a lie. He had some strange dream where his dad was also there, and he only managed to calm down and fall back asleep an hour ago. He still couldn’t stop thinking about it, even if the dream was hazy now.

“Good to hear! Be ready by 6:30 so I can drive all of you to the school. Then once you get there, you can ask about your schedule at the office.” Patton laid down a plate of bagels with cream cheese and strawberries in front of Roman, so Roman began to eat.

Once he finished his breakfast, Roman rushed back upstairs to style his hair and brush his teeth before they had to leave. As he brushed his teeth, he stared at the shower to the left of him and sighed. He touched his hair, feeling the grease slick onto his fingers.

He really needed to shower. He hadn’t showered since he got here, and with how thick his hair was it was really starting to gross him out. He hated feeling greasy and grimy, but Roman hadn’t checked the bathroom for cameras yet and he refused to shower until he did. Though, he knew that was also just an excuse. Roman also felt too tired to take care of himself.

Just brush your teeth, he thought, they told you that if you can’t shower, at least brush your teeth. Greasy hair can be fixed, cavities are expensive.

He spit out the toothpaste into the sink and rinsed out his mouth. He grabbed some face wash and decided to use it as quickly as he could to hold back the gross feeling he felt. It would help him feel a little cleaner, at least. A little more presentable for the first day.

A loud bang came onto the door. “Roman, hurry up!” Virgil called out, “Some of us need to piss!”

“Just a second!” Roman vigorously splashed water on his face and quickly dried it with a towel, rushing out of the bathroom so that Virgil could run in. He sighed again, walking downstairs to wait on the couch until it was time to go.

“Alrighty, everyone got everything?” Patton eventually asked, making Roman crack open the eyes he didn’t even realize he closed. Patton smiled and clapped his hands together when his response was tired hums of agreement. “Perfect! To the car!”

All three kids bunched themselves together in the back of Patton’s car, Roman and Virgil at the window seats while poor Logan was squished in the middle. Roman squeezed his legs together so he could fit his backpack between Logan and himself, acting as a barrier so Logan couldn’t touch him. It was uncomfortable, but it was what Roman had to do.

“So, Roman, are you excited?” Patton asked, making Roman open his eyes again to look at Patton through the rearview mirror. Roman leaned his head against the window.

“More nervous. I’ve never been to a new school before.”

“Well, hopefully you can make lots of friends here! The school is pretty big, so there are certainly lots of options!” Patton laughed at himself and Roman closed his eyes again.

We’ll see about that.

Eventually, after a failed attempt of getting in some extra minutes of sleep before school, Roman felt the car come to a stop. He opened his eyes and looked out the window to see the front of the large school building, kids with smiling faces talking to each other as they walked inside while others looked tired yet excited. Roman wasn’t feeling it.

“Alright, kiddos, have fun!” Patton exclaimed, “Remember to check in with the office for your schedule, Roman!”

All the kids started to pile out of the car, grabbing their bags off the floor to rush inside. Once they were all out, Patton’s car drove away to head for work.

Roman looked at the building as Logan and Virgil walked inside. It seemed huge compared to his old school, where the county was much more rural than here. They still had twenty minutes until school started and kids were already swarming in from multiple entrances, both from the main entrance and other doors connected around the building. Roman walked inside and held his arms close to himself, desperate not to be shoved around by the other students. 

The office was fairly easy to find, considering there was a giant sign over the door in bold, white letters reading Office. Roman opened the door and stepped inside to get in line, feeling a little bit better that he wasn’t the only student having first day issues. The line shrank very quickly until it was Roman’s turn to ask questions, being faced with an old lady who could either be very sweet or the rudest person in the building. Roman could never tell.

“Uh, I’m a new kid at this school, and my guardian told me to come here to get my schedule?” Roman asked.

“Name.” Okay, well, rude it was, then.

“Roman Goldsberry.”

The desk worker didn’t respond, only typed something on her computer and didn’t make eye contact. “Next door to your left of that entrance is the counselor’s office. Your counselor is Mrs. Walters and she’ll call for you shortly.”

“Okay, thank you.” Roman had never scurried out of an office so quickly in his life. So much for a great first impression.

In the other office, Roman sat on a waiting chair and awkwardly glanced at all the college items they had hung up on the walls, waiting until his name would be called. The school day hasn’t even started yet, what’s taking them so long?

Roman drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair and waited. There was a lot of college stuff in this room. Granted, high school’s whole thing was trying to take you to college, his old school was the exact same. And he should really start thinking about that stuff since he’s a sophomore now. He only had two more years left after this, but it’s not like he could go anyway. He wasn’t even supposed to graduate high school, let alone college.

Besides, his dream was stupid anyway, so it didn’t matter.

“Roman Goldsberry?” A voice called out, taking Roman out of his thoughts. Roman stood up to follow the counselor into her office.

“I’m Mrs. Walters, and it’s nice to meet you Roman!” She said cheerily as she sat at her desk with Roman sitting right in front of her. “Your schedule was a bit last minute to pull together, but I tried my hardest based on your last school’s transcript and your test scores from last standardized testing. All I need is to schedule some extra electives for you. You have advanced English 12, advanced geometry, advanced biology, and world history. You can also choose Spanish 3 here if you wish to continue that. You also still need your gym credit, so you can take regular PE or strength training. I also have a list of other electives here if you want to look at that.”

“Yeah, I can look.” The counselor handed Roman a paper of all the electives organized by their subject. Well, Roman definitely wanted to continue Spanish, so that choice was easy. Strength training sounded like a fun way to do gym class with less dodgeballs to the face, but it was only a semester long, so he’d need to pick another semester class for the second half of the year. And he could join another painting or drawing class as his last elective, but he’d already taken those at his old school…

Roman gazed at the arts section of the packet, trying to find something he might like. His eyes lit up as he noticed the names of two classes: set design, which was a semester long and sounded magical, and something called sculpture. “What does the sculpture class teach?” Roman asked.

“It’s an art class that teaches you how to sculpt with different things. Like clay, wood, things like that. It’s a very hands-on class if you’re interested.”

Roman smiled. “I want that one then.”

The counselor typed something into her computer. “Have you chosen your other classes?”

“Yes, Spanish 3, set design, and strength training.”

“I’ll put you in strength training for this semester, but next semester you can join the set design class. I’ll email your elective teachers to inform them you’ll be joining their classes, but for now…” The counselor printed off a piece of paper and handed it to Roman. “This is your new schedule. Your first class is English with Ms. Fritz, and her class should be up on the third floor at room 316. Do you think you can make it there?”

“I can, thank you.”

The counselor smiled. “Have a nice first day.”

Roman walked off to head toward his first class, going up two flights of stairs and wandering across half the floor before he finally found his classroom. Thankfully, the halls were full of students desperately trying to locate their classrooms, so Roman didn’t feel as weird. He eventually stumbled upon the correct room number after checking multiple hallways and trying to follow their scattered number system. He looked at the door with a paper rabbit and a book with a phrase reading hop into a good book, and could guess immediately what type of teacher this would be.

Roman pushed open the half-cracked door and stepped inside.

The dozen kids who were already sitting stared at him when he walked in, but quickly resumed their conversations shortly after. Roman glanced at an empty seat off in the middle row near the other end of the class and moved to sit down in it. He looked around at the other kids off in their own worlds, with no one to get excited to see him and strike up a conversation. He was sitting alone in a class where it seemed like no one else was.

Roman got bored quickly with no one to talk to, drumming his fingers on the table and starting to daydream instead.

The long lost princess with the power to see into the future is forced to hide in protected wilderness, Roman thought, picking up from an old story idea he’s had for a while. Can’t have a teen novel without an orphan, so she lives with a guardian healer instead. Then, she needs a trusty companion to not only start her adventures, but to assist her alongside them. Perhaps he could be a peasant boy born with more magic power than the normal peasant has? It sure would be interesting. Or maybe, he’s not a trustworthy companion at all! What if he’s using the princess to promote his own selfish ideals? But as the story goes on, they actually become close friends and he has an intense internal conflict as he turns into the antagonist! Then maybe-

“Alright class, I think it’s been late enough for us to start!” Roman tried not to be aggravated at the teacher for interrupting him. The teacher stood at the front of the class with a wide smile. “I’m Ms. Fritz, but of course I’m sure a lot of you already know that since you had me last year. I teach all grade levels for advanced English, so if you keep down this path you might stick with me until graduation! Now normally, teachers will start their first day with class expectations, maybe a rubric or a supplies list, but I have a better idea! How about we travel across the class and try to get to know each other better? I can pass around a ball, and if you catch the ball, you have to share three fun facts about you!”

A sense of dread filled into Roman after hearing that. He usually didn’t mind games like this since it was a mindless way to pass the time, but he didn’t have any friends to pass him the ball anymore. Was he just going to sit there until the end? Sounded awkward, no thank you.

“I think,” Ms. Fritz said with her hand gripping her chin in thought, “I’m going to start with the new kid.”

Roman perked his head up as all the other kids turned to him. Well, that was unexpected.

Ms. Fritz tossed Roman the ball, and thankfully he caught it without making a fool of himself. The teacher smiled at him encouragingly as he stood up, looking around at all the kids waiting for him to talk. What should I even say?

“Can you say your name first?” Ms. Fritz asked.

“Well…I’m Roman. Uh, I like to paint, I’m half french, and…” Roman tried to think. What else was interesting about him? Something that shared a lot about him as a person?

Quickly, it dawned on him. One idea that I could possibly share, he thought. Well, it’s a bit invasive, but they’re all looking at me. So whatever.

He took a deep breath in. “…I’m a foster kid.”

When Roman admitted that, all the kids seemed to be more interested in him, leaning closer as their eyes widened. It was the first time Roman ever said it aloud, and it was so strange to hear coming from his mouth. He was a foster kid. That was an important part of his identity now.

He didn’t know how he felt about it.

“You’re half french?” Ms. Fritz pulled Roman out of his thoughts with that question. “Do you know any french?”

“I’m fluent.”

“That’s so cool! Can you say something in French for us?”

Roman seemed to think about it. “Quelque chose.”

Ms. Fritz blinked. “Well, I hope it was appropriate to say in a classroom. When did you move here, Roman?”

“Like…four days ago. Very recently.”

“You only got added to my roster last night, so I believe you! How about you pass the ball to another kid now?”

Roman looked around the room awkwardly before making eye contact with a random girl and tossing her the ball. He sat back down and only paid half his attention to what the other kids were saying. Well, at least he didn’t have to wait awkwardly anymore.

The rest of the class went like that. It seemed like a lot of these kids were students that Ms. Fritz had in the past, as well as being students that were also close friends with each other. They talked a lot and made lots of jokes with the teacher, and they seemed really close, which Roman understood since he was the same with his old group of advanced kids. The extra conversation dragged the game out longer than it probably should have been, but Roman didn���t mind. He didn’t want to actually work or anything anyway.

Eventually, the game ended, and the last kid tossed the ball to Ms. Fritz. “Alright,” she said, “That game dragged out longer than I thought it would, but that’s fine! The bells are shorter the first few days anyway. We only have a couple minutes left, so talk amongst yourself if you want, I don’t care. The assembly should be after your fourth bell for the sophomores, so don’t let your teachers forget!”

All the students turned around to talk to the kids around them. Roman simply watched their conversations with no one to talk to himself, realizing how all the new kids at his old school must have felt. It was like looking in from the outside, where no one else could see you. Roman was just…there.

“Hey,” the kid in front of him turned around to face Roman. Roman almost jumped at the sudden attention. “What’s your name again?”

“Oh, Roman. Roman Goldsberry.” Roman turned to sit properly in his seat and leaned in closer. This was a good start! He seems nice, maybe I can make a friend!

“Roman Goldsberry!” He mocked, turning to his other friends to laugh. “That’s such a pretentious name. And very American sounding, by the way. I thought you were French?”

Roman’s shoulders sagged. Nevermind. Eight in the morning on my first day, and apparently I’ve made an enemy before a friend. “I’m half french, not fully french.”

The kid turned to his friends and made a face at them before they all laughed. Roman felt his blood boil.

“So your dad is the American?” The kid asked.

“Yes.” Roman hoped his sharp tone would help them realize not to mess with him.

“Are you close with your dad?”

Roman froze, and the group of kids turned to each other to make faces at each other again. He really didn’t see what was so funny. Who asks a complete stranger a question like that out of the blue?

Before Roman could snap and tell the kid to mind his own damn business, another kid from the other side of the room scoffed. “Mitchell.”

“What? I’m just asking!”

The other kid opened their mouth to retaliate, but a loud and obnoxious bell went off before they could. Kids started to get up to rush to their next class, and Roman joined them. The sooner he got away from Mitchell (who had no right to bully Roman for his name when he was called Mitchell), the better.

Roman rushed out into the hall and hyper focused on the schedule in his hands. World history, room 203. The next floor down.

Roman was so occupied in trying to find a flight of stairs, he didn’t notice the kid trying to catch up to him.

***

The rest of Roman’s day wasn’t half as eventful as his first bell. History class had a chill teacher, which was nice, then next was his strength training class. His teacher was a little confused when he showed up but was happy to have Roman on board. He seemed very strict with his class rules though, and Roman hated that considering one of his rules was they had to change into gym clothes. Which meant Roman had to wear gym shorts.

…Well, guess he’d have to get used to wearing multiple pairs of boxers again.

Besides that, he also got lost on his way to sculpture, so he showed up ten minutes late telling this random teacher he was her student now. At least she didn’t seem bothered. After that, they all went to the sophomore assembly where they were told the school rules and updates, which Roman’s pretty sure he was the only kid who actually listened. Then, after the assembly, Roman went to the cafeteria to eat a lunch that Patton packed him. He hadn’t actually brought a packed lunch to school in years, so the sentiment was…strange.

Not that Roman would complain about an edible lunch, though.

Roman looked around the cafeteria for a place to sit. The place was starting to become crowded as more students got out of line for buying lunch, so Roman needed to find a spot fast. It’d be easier if he made a friend to sit with, but after the morning Mitchell incident, Roman hadn’t cared to try again in his other classes.

That’s when Roman spotted him. A kid with thick glasses eating a fruit cup as he worked on some papers next to him, completely ignoring the world to finish some homework. Roman wasn’t exactly close with his foster brothers, but hey, maybe Logan could prove himself a little useful. He had to be lonely too, right?

Roman took his chance and sat across from Logan. Logan didn’t look up from his papers. “Hey there, nerd!”

Logan glanced an eye toward Roman. He focused back on his work. “Hello.”

“How’s your first day of high school going?”

It took Logan a solid minute before he responded. “It’s going alright. I got unlucky with a teacher of mine, who already gave us a homework packet for the week, so I’m trying to get a head start on it.”

“Really? What teacher?”

“Mr. Owens, he’s the more strict teacher of the two that teach medical technology.”

Roman’s eyes widened. “Medical technology? That’s a class here?”

“Yes. I had to do a lot of things last year to get into it, however. It’s part of the intensive medical learning path. However, the extra work is necessary.”

“…Right. What other classes are you in?”

“Advanced biology, advanced geometry, advanced English, medical tech as I just mentioned, German 2, health, and painting.”

Roman tilted his head to the side. “Wait, I thought most of those were sophomore classes?”

“And I took freshman classes my eighth grade year. Your point?”

Roman blinked. “…Fair enough.”

Roman brought out his own sandwich and ate it in awkward silence. Logan seemed so focused on his paper that he wasn’t saying a word, and trying to spark conversation with him when he was like this was next to impossible. He felt like he was intruding by sitting next to Logan, the air feeling thick for a reason Roman couldn’t quite place. Once he finished his sandwich, Roman had enough.

“I think…” Roman said, “I’m going to sit…somewhere else.”

Logan didn’t react. “Alright.”

Roman stood up and awkwardly shuffled to an empty spot at a table on the other side of the cafeteria, placing down his lunch box and trying again. Well, he thought as he opened up a cheese stick wrapper, better get used to being alone, then.

“Hey, excuse me?”

Roman looked up at the voice while he was mid-bite. It was the same kid who scolded Mitchell back in his English class, tired circles under their eyes and a gray sweater on despite it being August. Though, Roman had been freezing in most of his classes today, so maybe this person had the right idea.

“Oh- I’m sorry, were you sitting here?” Roman asked.

“No, you’re fine, I just…” The kid looked side to side anxiously. “…Mind if I sit with you?”

“…Oh! No, I don’t mind at all.”

The kid smiled and set their lunchtray across from Roman. “Thanks. I’m Elliott by the way, they/them pronouns.”

Roman’s brain took a minute to process what they meant. “Uh, hello! I’m Roman…he/him?”

Elliott seemed to get happier when he said that. “Nice to meet you. How’s your first day been so far? Besides for you-know-who this morning.”

Roman laughed. “Well, aside from that uncalled for mess, it’s been quite normal. I got lost a few times, but that’s not new for me. My teachers seem quite alright so far.”

“That’s good to hear. We have a lot of good teachers, I think, unless they teach calculus, then they have some serious issues. But so long as you don’t act like an idiot it’s easy to get past those teachers.”

“I’ll keep that in mind! Hopefully I stay on this hot streak, though.” Roman took out a water bottle from his lunch and started to drink it. “But it’s the students I’m more worried about. They all seem so off on their own. Or just outright rude like that guy this morning.”

Elliott groaned, leaning his head on his hand and slouching. “I’m really sorry about him. He can be a huge jerk for no reason. I think he’s just itching for a fight.”

“You seem to know him quite well. Old friend or something?” Roman asked.

Elliott groaned again. “…He’s my ex.”

“…No offense to your type or anything, but…ew.”

“Oh no, yeah, dating him was definitely an ew,” Elliot sighed. “We broke up like, four times in the span of a year and a half. It was a mess. Eventually, over the summer I broke up with him for good. I think he’s still upset about that and taking it out on the first easy target he finds. That, and he’s a jerk.”

“Well, he’ll soon learn I’m not one to be described as an easy target.” Roman gave a cocky smile and posed.

The bell sounded off again, and all the students stood up from their tables and started to swarm the trash cans and cafeteria exits. Roman and Elliott gave each other a look as they also stood up.

“So…what class do you have next?” Elliott asked nervously.

“Let’s see…” Roman pulled out the schedule from his pocket and looked at it. “Advanced biology with Mr. Weber.”

Elliott’s eyes lit up. “Me too! Uh…wanna walk together then? I can show you where it is.”

Roman smiled. “Of course!”

The two kids headed down the stairs, talking more and laughing long after they sat down in the class and the bell rang. Roman continued to whisper to Elliott during class until the teacher gave them both a warning glance, shutting their mouths but smiling at each other.

Even as Roman tried to pay attention, he felt a weight lift from his chest.

He’d obtained a friend after all!

***

The entire bus drive home, Roman spent it texting Elliott’s number that they’d given him right after biology ended. He talked about his last two classes and listened to Elliott ramble about his bad luck with classmates this year, grinning to himself with his eyes glued to his screen until his stop came. Virgil banged his fist on Roman’s seat to get his attention, making him jump and stand up to get off with Virgil and Logan.

During the walk home, no one said anything. Roman was off in his own world and Virgil just looked tired, with Logan staring intently at his own shoes as he walked. Virgil unlocked the door for them all to come inside, and they all branched off into their different directions. Virgil got a snack from the kitchen while Roman and Logan ran up to their rooms.

Roman spent a lot of his time in his room now that he’d gotten the curtains around his bed. Lying there was a lot softer than hiding on the bathroom floor with his legs propped up, and Roman was still confused as to how he managed to get away with installing this. He’d have to make sure Patton never entered his room again in case he planned to rip the curtains off their hooks.

He’d have to make a plan to effectively keep him out.

But for now, Roman actually needed to talk to Patton as soon as possible. He needed to ask for gym clothes, since that was the only thing Roman still needed to get for class, and he wanted to get it over with so Roman wouldn’t need to keep worrying about it. He was almost certain Patton had come home half an hour ago, but Roman just ignored him and stayed in his room. But he had to take advantage of the fact that he was remembering to ask for the clothes, so there was no time like the present to go find him.

Roman hopped out of bed and exited his room, making his way downstairs to the living room. He figured Patton would be either watching TV or doing something in the kitchen, but when Roman looked around, he didn’t see him anywhere. Virgil was sprawled across the couch on his phone, but no one else was around. Roman put his hands on his hips.

“Where’s Patton?” He asked Virgil.

Virgil didn’t look up. “Upstairs. In his room I think.”

Roman groaned and stomped back upstairs. He hated going into an adult’s room, so he instead opened the door and poked his head in so he wouldn’t have to step inside. But before he could get a word out to Patton, Roman stopped himself.

Patton was sitting on his bed with the lights dimmed, his back resting in the headboard, but what shocked Roman was that Logan was there also. He had his face hidden in Patton’s neck as Patton rubbed his back and played with his hair, holding him tight to his chest while Logan sniffled. Roman had never seen Logan emote before, so watching him cry was…disturbing. Roman wanted to run over and rip Logan from Patton to protect him.

Patton looked at Roman in the doorway and smiled. “You gotta remember to knock before entering, kiddo. What do you need?”

Roman forgot the main reason he came here. “Is Logan okay?”

Patton looked down at Logan and whispered something in his ear. Whatever Patton said, Logan agreed with a quiet nod of his head. Patton rubbed at Logan’s neck in a way that made Roman’s skin crawl as Patton began to speak. “He’ll be okay, kiddo. He’s just a little overwhelmed from school today. Do you need anything?”

Roman took a step inside Patton’s bedroom. It made his whole body shift into fight or flight, but he couldn’t leave Logan alone with him in good conscience. “I just wanted to say I need to buy gym clothes by next Wednesday. I’m in a strength training class this semester.”

Patton smiled. “That’s fine, we can go shopping this weekend.”

Roman looked down at the floor. “Well…I was more thinking, like…I go into the store while you wait in the car.”

Patton raised an eyebrow at him. “I need to buy the clothes, kiddo.”

“You can just give me the money. I’ll stay within the budget and give you any left over, so…please?”

Patton’s face dropped a little, but he didn’t get angry, so Roman considered that a win. “Sure, kiddo. We’ll do that Sunday.”

Even after the conversation seemed to end, Roman still stood near the door, shifting on his feet awkwardly. Patton shifted his eyes between Logan and Roman as if he was analyzing both of their mental states, but Roman’s throat felt stuck as he tried to bring out the words he wanted to say. He was so scared, but he couldn’t force himself to ask the question he knew he needed to ask now. Yet his feet refused to make a run for it out the door despite his fear.

“Do you need something else, kiddo?” Patton lightly prompted. Roman attempted to swallow the rock he felt in his throat.

“Can I…Can I stay with you and Logan?” He hated it, but he had to do it. He didn’t know what Patton would try when Logan was vulnerable.

Patton looked down at Logan, and Logan nodded. Patton turned to smile again. “You can if you want, Logan doesn’t mind.”

Roman carefully walked to the other side of the bed, sitting as far as possible from Patton but keeping his eyes glued to Logan. He knew he wasn’t helping much, not saying a word and not even being close, but it was something Roman had to do. Just because him and Logan weren’t close didn’t mean he’d leave him in danger. Even if Roman felt stuck in his head and couldn’t find the power to move his arms.

Roman sat there for a while, watching Logan’s chest rise as Patton rubbed his back. It felt like ages before Logan’s chest slowed and he fell asleep on top of Patton, somehow not caring at all about being asleep in Patton’s presence. Roman’s heart ached for him. He was too trusting and innocent for his own good.

“I gotta do some chores,” Patton whispered, “So I’m gonna tuck him in and let him nap. Do you still wanna stay with him?”

Roman nodded, not being able to get the words out himself. He felt stuck as Patton lifted Logan up gently, petting his hair to soothe him when he stirred. Roman helped by tugging the covers back from his end of the bed so that Patton could tuck him in and let go of him sooner, his hand on the back of Logan’s leg making Roman anxious. Patton tucked Logan under the covers and watched his reaction. After a few seconds, Patton grabbed a squishy stuffed frog from his bedside table, handing it to Logan who curled around it in his sleep. It’d be cute if Roman wasn’t so worried.

“Tell me if anything happens, okay kiddo?” Patton said right as he was halfway out the bedroom door. Roman nodded, only finally relaxing after Patton left and slowly closed the door. 

Roman immediately ran over to lock it. He didn’t have his security bar, but this would be good enough. Hopefully Patton wouldn’t test anything when he knew Roman would be by Logan’s side.

Despite all of Roman’s worries, Logan slept peacefully on the bed. He didn’t shift or seem distressed at all, just snuggling closer to Patton’s stuffed frog and resting. Logan was calm.

Roman sat on the floor to block the door and watched to make sure no one took that away from him.

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

Correspondence, Chapter 03

Pairing: HotchReid

Summary:  An AU where Reid never joined the FBI, but got roped into consulting for the LA field office while working and teaching at Caltech. Hotch gets his email referred from a fellow agent, and they start to work on cases together -- until they start talking on a regular basis. Regular becomes frequent, frequent becomes constant. They know nothing about each other, but they don't really mind.

Rating: Mature/Explicit (eventually)

Chapter CW/notes: Mentions of alcohol, a very long conversation happens where Hotch is a little buzzed. Big, BIG focus on their age difference, and unintentional misinformation. Spencer has no idea Hotch thinks he’s older, or at least not OLD older, and gets a little panicky/clams up -- and yes I realize Hotch could just background check him and find it out but he respects the man enough to not do that. The chapter is linear, it just encompasses a lot of time passing so hopefully that’s not too confusing. Set in season 6, self beta’d.

Word Count: 5025

Masterpost Link

Ao3 Link

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Chapter 03

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Early September 2010

--

And so, it begins.

The dynamic shift, the vast change in how Hotch and Dr. Reid had been corresponding for the past few months. Evolving from something so professional and academic to something… looser. More freeing. More room for error, of course, but the risk turns out to be more than worth it for what they gain.

The texts are sporadic, at first. Short interactions, here and there, all stemming from that first, longer conversation about Jack. Hotch follows up the very next day, after he gets to talk to his son in the morning over pancakes. Jessica hovering nearby the whole time. She had apologized for her harsh words, and commended him after the fact how he’d approached Jack on the subject and led the little boy into a conversation rather than a lecture like his teachers had done. Because, as Spencer had mentioned -- there was no need for one. Jack already had the situation handled.

[]6/4, 12:39[] You were right. 

[]6/4, 12:39[] He invited the kid that was bullying him over for a playdate. Trying to win him over by killing him with kindness.

[]6/4, 12:43[] My kind of kid. 

[]6/4, 12:44[] You’ve taught him well, Hotch.

And that was it. That was all it took to kick off what turns into a frequent occurrence. Slowly, as time passes, their quick texts turn to conversations that naturally revert to work. It’s where they spend most of their time, after all, and what they had bonded over in the first place. But unlike in their emails, it isn’t just about the cases or profiles or statistics required to crack them. It’s much more opinionated than that, erratic in it’s content and frequency. Commentary on Hotch’s team, ideas on the cases they work, case studies and research projects and sometimes even just office gossip that somehow always makes its way to Hotch’s attention despite everyone trying to keep it from doing so.

Or just Dr. Reid observing their antics. This is the beginning of the tonal shift, and Hotch can’t help but think… it just might be a welcome one.

[]6/12, 10:03[] Your tech analyst always sends me rainbow font emails.

[]6/12, 10:07[] Yes, she’s doing that with everyone on the team. It’s Pride month and she’s being supportive.

[]6/12, 10:11[] She considers me a part of the team? How sweet of her.

[]6/12, 10:12[] You are, and as far as the bureau goes you might as well be.

[]6/12, 10:13[] I doubt I could sneak you into payroll, though.

[]6/12, 10:21[] I bet Ms. Garcia could.

[]6/12, 10:28[] Don’t. Say. Anything.

[]6/12, 10:29[] But yes, she could. 

It turns into a small reprieve, for Hotch, in the constant deluge of bureaucracy and violence that fills his work day. The single moment he allows a sliver of himself to appear through the cracks of his armor he has to wear to guard himself from it all. To be the stoic leader the team needs, the unmovable tree in the storm.

Only in his quick, typed under the table conversations he has with Spencer does he allow himself the slips of humor. Barely there traces of a smile. Finding the smallest spots of light in his dark days, in his work that can surround and consume to the point of suffocation. Hotch thrives in it, he always has -- while others have drowned. But he doesn’t mind finding this small self-indulgence. Making the decision for himself that he can joke and poke fun at his work and not feel guilty about it. That, for once, he can allow himself this.

Until one day, Spencer returns the favor -- and starts talking about his own work.

[]7/21, 16:17[] If I leave all of my Ph.D. applicants in a ditch in the desert, is that still murder?

[]7/21, 16:30[] Technically or hypothetically?

[]7/21, 16:34[] Different question, would you be my legal council if I snap and it happens anyway?

[]7/21, 16:37[] Of course.

[]7/21, 16:38[] But as your attorney, I have to advise you that we never had this conversation, and murder is wrong.

[]7/21, 16:40[] Hypothetically. 

Spencer takes a little longer to open up, but when he does it is through this window into an academic world Hotch had never planned or thought he would ever be privy to. He begins to reveal pieces of it, bit by bit, until Hotch starts to form a picture in his mind of what shape this professor’s life really takes. Making deductions based on his speech patterns, what goes on throughout his day, his word choices, and profiling the man through text message without even meaning to. 

He tries to put a stop to it as soon as he realizes this. Dr. Reid isn’t just a consultant anymore, he is his friend -- and Hotch will always do his utmost to not profile his friends. But it’s a little too late for some aspects that can’t help but stand out as time goes on. Such as the inkling that the other man probably isn’t senile with a cane and a stooped back, like Hotch had first thought. Certain parts of his day allude to someone who is a bit fresher to the academic scene -- instead of spending decades on a college campus. 

But Hotch sets that aside, to be scrutinized at a later date, and instead turns his focus into enjoying what Spencer has to offer him. As his friend. The stories he shares freely, now that they’ve spent all this time breaking down the barriers. He regales Hotch with his own daily problems, grievances, as well as the little bright spots that he just wants to share with Hotch so that it can lighten up his own days. Which were much more bleak, and crowded with danger and horrid things. 

Hotch lives for those messages.

[]7/28, 20:42[] So I have a godson.

[]7/28, 20:44[] He’s four, and he just came to visit last week with his mother. Have you and Jack ever done science experiments at home? 

[]7/28, 20:46[] Because I have some that are definite crowd pleasers. Do them right, you can call them ‘physics magic’. I can send you the instructions, it’s well worth it.

[]7/28, 20:47[] I’m not sure how helpful I would be in a scientific area, but I’m always willing to try.

[]7/28, 20:49[] I’d require video evidence of it, then. 

[]7/28, 20:50[] But they are so fun, I’d forgotten how much.

[]7/28, 20:51[] No children of your own?

[]7/28, 20:54[] Never found the right person, but I always spent so much time on my degrees that I hadn’t really thought about being a parent. 

[]7/28, 20:55[] My Godson really brought it to light, though. I love having him here.

[]7/28, 20:56[] I bet he loves when you come around, or when they get to visit you, too.

[]7/28, 20:59[] I work in a science lab, with lasers and telescopes bigger than my first apartment. My approval rating is pretty high when it comes to my godson. 

Although Hotch finds that he doesn’t always start these interactions, the ones that lead to topics outside of work, he also isn’t against them in the slightest. They begin to start messaging at all hours, because of this; first thing in the morning, during their lunch break, whenever something pops up -- what used to be jokes that would just be kept to themselves, turn to conversation starters. And that development shifts the dynamic even more.

[]8/11, 10:31[] Coffee shops always make me feel old, and like I’m a grad student all over again.

[]8/11, 10:38[] You don’t have a T.A. to run and get you coffee?

[]8/11, 10:41[] Of course you would send out for coffee.

[]8/11, 10:42[] Well my order is two steps, not sixteen.

[]8/11, 10:43[] Tyrant.

[]8/11, 10:43[] Pretentious.

They start to tease, banter, and poke fun at each other. Comradery, friendship, and the more it goes on the more it seems to spiral towards something else. Something new.

But it’s these small moments, messages, conversations that can last a minute or an hour, that make Hotch’s chest feel so much lighter as the weeks go by. Hints of a smile easing onto his face, smoothing out and softening the edges in a way they haven’t in a long time. Garnering some attention from the rest of the team, or whoever is in the vicinity that felt brave enough to mention it.

“Who are you talking to?”

“Who’s the lucky lady?”

“No one,” Hotch would answer, schooling himself and pocketing his phone. “Just a consultant on a case.”

-

This is how it goes… for months. 

They never speak on the phone. Never even hint at video calls. Never send pictures. (Although Spencer does make a mention once or twice about that promised video when Hotch finally gets around to attempting the ‘physics magic’ experiment he’d emailed him. Hotch secretly hopes that maybe, one day, Spencer will just get to show them in person. Instead of Hotch having to record it for anyone to witness.)

But they talk like clockwork. Play chess on the regular, allowing them to talk more fluently with a laptop to aid the flow of conversation. It starts with once a week, then twice a week, standing dates after hours that meld so seamlessly with their messages every workday. They keep it to the weekdays, at first, since Hotch is busy with Jack on the weekends. But that doesn’t last long. Suddenly, without warning -- it becomes every night as well. That shift is such an organic, natural progression, that it slips in without either of them making comment on it. A silent agreement, because mentioning it would mean admitting why they were pushing this in such a new direction. 

They just… missed talking to each other. Two days was too long. 

Now, it’s every day.

They text for hours; check in on each other at random throughout the day even when Hotch is on cases or Spencer is busy with his duties as the leading doctoral expert of Caltech. Times when they should be swamped, unavailable to anything other than their primary focus and work load, still littered with short messages. Before and after each flight, when Hotch gets back to his hotel at night, when Spencer has to lecture out of town and they just so happen to be passing each other during travel -- mere states away. So close, yet so far. It’s all the time, it’s constant, and it’s wonderful.

Spencer still helps with cases. Often, even more often than he ever helped the L.A. field office. But it’s not always through email, anymore. Sometimes it’s just easier for Hotch to shoot him a quick text. A detailed message in the middle of their everyday banter and dribble but no less out of place, knowing the good Doctor will answer him quickly. Time is of the essence when they are on a case, but they are always on retainer for each other. Waiting in the wings, ready to jump in with quick, snappy wit and bitten-back smiles, and Hotch feels so good. So light. Better than he has in years. 

Happy. 

Hotch is happy, finding a friend in Dr. Spencer Reid, even if sometimes that friendship seems to transcend layers he didn’t know were there. Developing into something else, something he hadn’t touched in a long, long time. 

Months pass. Months. Like a blur. Like they’ve only just started this thing that’s anticipatory and comfortable and flexible in its medium and that is so easy -- everything Hotch needs in his life -- that he can barely imagine what his days and nights were like before this. Before Spencer. 

But it’s months into this correspondence, this charged and bright thing, that he’s home late one night with a Scotch in one hand and a losing game of online chess long forgotten on his laptop screen. Lost in messaging Spencer, back to his phone instead of the chat feature of the chess game. Because texting is their comfort zone, now. He never thought it would be, had seen teenagers and adults attached to their phones like a lifeline and used to scoff about it, but he finally has begun to understand. 

Because here he is -- not even looking up when he takes a drink -- lost in his conversation with Spencer. Making each other laugh, in a way he hasn’t in so long. Loud and high and afraid he might wake Jack down the hall so he stifles it with another sip of his Scotch.

[]9/8, 21:12[] If Jack wakes up, you know that’s it for us. He’ll never go back to sleep.

[]9/8, 21:13[] Then stop laughing so loud. I honestly can’t imagine you laughing enough to wake him.

[]9/8, 21:14[] Usually I don’t. I never laugh like this, but I used to.

[]9/8, 21:16[] Mr. FBI isn’t allowed to laugh, I thought. Didn’t they beat that out of you at the academy?

[]9/8, 21:19[] I was able to retain a smidgen of humor, it’s well hidden. You just seem to bring it out more than others.

[]9/8, 21:20[] I’m flattered. 

[]9/8, 21:20[] You should be. 

[]9/8, 21:21[] If my team saw me crack a smile I’d probably be forced to get a CAT scan.

[]9/8, 21:23[] Do you need one? I have an M.A. in Cognitive Sciences, I’ll be your second opinion.

[]9/8, 21:24[] Probably, but I’ll live.

[]9/8, 21:25[] Very stiff upper lip of you. They teach you that at the academy, too?

[]9/8, 21:26[] No, that would be Scotland Yard. I liaised there for a while.

[]9/8, 21:28[] Wow, you get around. Have you been anywhere else on your global exploration?

[]9/8, 21:31[] Hardly that, I just go where the bureau tells me. I’ve already been bounced all over the country before landing at the BAU. All you can do is keep the ‘stiff upper lip’ and adapt.

[]9/8, 21:31[] “Keep Calm & Carry On”?

[]9/8, 21:33[] Garcia gave me that on a mug last Christmas. I still don’t know what it’s from.

[]9/8, 21:34[] Your age is showing. Get with the times, old man.

[]9/8, 21:35[] You’re one to talk.

[]9/8, 21:35[] What?

Hotch bites back a smile, thinking about how for months he had been so sure Spencer was this elderly professor in his 60’s or 70’s that just happened to find their conversations interesting. That was… very apparently wrong, Hotch can see that now, but he hadn’t had any evidence to the contrary for the entire time they corresponded those first few months. 

He could have done a background check on the professor at any time, is sure Garcia already has one saved in a file ready to send him at his first request, but it’s more fun this way. The not knowing, the learning about each other piece by careful piece. Even the smallest bits of information, such as age. 

He bet Spencer would get a kick out of his first impression of the man, though.

[]9/8, 21:37[] Oh come on, you know.

[]9/8, 21:39[] No, I actually don’t. Congratulations, you’ve stumped the super genius.

[]9/8, 21:39[] But really, what do you mean?

[]9/8, 21:42[] I always just assumed you are at least ten years my senior, maybe even fifteen. How are you more with the times than I am?

[]9/8, 21:43[] I work at a University. I am surrounded by hormones and the dribble of youth.

There’s a slightly lengthy pause after that exchange, enough Hotch starts to pay closer attention through the buzz of liquor settled over his skin pleasantly.

[]9/8, 21:49[] How old do you think I am?

[]9/8, 21:50[] I don’t know, is it rude if I answer?

Hotch is not laughing to himself, he promises. 

[]9/8, 21:52[] Why do you think I’m older?

[]9/8, 21:53[] This feels like a trap.

[]9/8, 21:53[] It’s not.

[]9/8, 21:56[] Well, honestly just from your academic achievements. Not everyone has that kind of time. And all your departments you run, you have to have a pretty level head and knack for maturity to keep that all in order. Especially doctorate students. 

[]9/8, 21:58[] Thank you, I think.

[]9/8, 22:00[] I bet you’re the coolest old man on campus, though, don’t get me wrong.

Hotch does outright laugh after he sends that, manages to keep it a little bit quieter, and commends himself on having the upperhand in the conversation for once as he stares at his phone for a few minutes, awaiting an answer. 

If he had to guess, Hotch supposes he’s held on to that stubborn image of Spencer being a stooped old professor out of habit. But the more the two have talked, after he'd gotten to know the man and his written verbal expressions and just the way his life runs day to day, it’s pretty easy to see that that is not correct. Spencer could be someone around Dave or Jason’s age, but more likely even younger than that -- closer to his own. 

And that… is an intriguing thought that sparks something in his chest. He smothers it with another sip of Scotch and realizes that it has been a solid five minutes of silence. With Spencer not even typing out a response.

[]9/8, 22:06[] Was it something I said?

[]9/8, 22:07[] No, I’m just… contemplating my answer.

[]9/8, 22:07[] Answer to what?

Hotch hasn’t drank that much, but he doesn’t believe he asked a question at all. He scrolls back through their conversation and doesn’t see one. Spencer has asked a good handful, though, all about Hotch’s perception of his age. 

Interesting.

[]9/8, 22:09[] Respond, not answer.

[]9/8, 22:10[] I’m all turned around now.

[]9/8, 22:12[] Flustered in your old age? Now I’m flattered. 

This is almost like flirting. Skirts the edges of it, and Hotch feels more emboldened to try the more Spencer tap-dances around what is obviously Hotch’s incorrect assumption of his age. He had had no idea Hotch thought he was older, that is apparent, and it’s throwing the other man for a loop for some reason Hotch can’t ascertain. 

[]9/8, 22:15[] I’m not old.

[]9/8, 22:15[] I’m not even older than you.

[]9/8, 22:16[] And how do you know that?

[]9/8, 22:17[] Just trust me on this.

[]9/8, 22:17[] Well, how old are you?

Another long, lengthy pause that Hotch waits for with baited breath. He knows that Spencer is there, that he’s staring at his phone and trying to decide the best way to answer without really answering anything. It’s only a matter of minutes, but that is a long time for them. When they are deep in a conversation like this.

Hotch isn’t laughing to himself anymore, but he’s more pleasantly confused than worried. He really has no idea what is making Spencer so hesitant.

[]9/8, 22:22[] Spencer?

[]9/8, 22:25[] I’m not going to tell you.

[]9/8, 22:26[] What, you want me to guess?

[]9/8, 22:28[] You’ll never guess.

[]9/8, 22:29[] That sounds like a challenge. How many guesses do I have?

[]9/8, 22:31[] None. Listen, I don’t want you to know. I shouldn’t have said anything.

[]9/8, 22:33[] I’m afraid it’s going to change your perception of me, and we’ll stop talking like this.

[]9/8, 22:34[] Just keep imagining me with wrinkles and a cane, I’m okay with that.

That drops the small smile right off his face.

Hotch is… surprised by this turn of events. What could be so shocking about this that Spencer thinks they would stop talking to each other? They’re corresponding every night. How could he possibly stop on a dime like that?

It doesn’t make any sense. And that’s not the alcohol talking.

[]9/8, 22:37[] I honestly don’t see how that would be possible.

[]9/8, 22:39[] I’m not going to stop talking to you just because you aren’t the senior professor I imagined running Caltech with an Iron Fist.

[]9/8, 22:40[] Now you’re projecting. 

[]9/8, 22:40[] You saying I’m too strict?

[]9/8, 22:41[] Tyrant, I think was the term I chose. 

[]9/8, 22:42[] Pretentious.

[]9/8, 22:44[] But Spencer, unless you are somehow underage with five Ph.D.’s, there’s no reason for us to stop talking. 

[]9/8, 22:47[] You would not believe how many people treat me like I'm underage, to this day. So that doesn’t inspire confidence.

Hotch pauses with his glass halfway back to his lips, only a few sips left in the glass. Staring at his phone and struggling to make sense of what Spencer is saying. Hotch had been trying to joke and tease with him, but now the word ‘underage’ feels like a glaring beacon of a word on his screen. 

He’s very suddenly more than a little nervous, even through the haze of alcohol. He is 45 years old, no matter what he keeps telling Spencer -- there is a limit to this being appropriate or not. What that limit is, he’d have to consider when he’s more sober, and it makes him feel like he should be reigning in the flirtatious notes that keep worming their way into the conversation. 

But it’s not actually possible for him to be that young, and everything he’s learned about the man indicates he’s closer to his own age. Was he in his 30’s? Even that felt too young for what Hotch had (subconsciously) profiled -- no, it has to be something else. 

No matter what, he didn’t want to keep getting Spencer worked up like this about it. His age hadn’t bothered Hotch before that night, so maybe if he drops it they can revert back to how they’d been spending their late evening hours before this turn in the conversation. 

[]9/8, 22:50[] But I’m NOT underage.

[]9/8, 22:51[] If that needed to be said.

[]9/8, 22:53[] Can you buy alcohol by yourself?

[]9/8, 22:54[] Yes.

[]9/8, 22:54[] See this is what I was afraid of.

[]9/8, 22:55[] Relax, I was trying to tease you. 

[]9/8, 22:57[] You don’t have to tell me, Spencer. I’ll just keep picturing Sean Connery, or John Steinbeck in the later years.

[]9/8, 22:59[] I see you have a type. 

[]9/8, 23:00[] Well, who do you picture when you think of me?

[]9/8, 23:01[] Hugo Weaving, Matrix era. Or Richard Feynman.

[]9/8, 23:02[] Well now I feel typecasted. Who’s Feynman?

[]9/8, 23:02[] An American Theoretical Physicist from the 40’s-60’s.

[]9/8, 23:03[] Ouch. How old do you think *I* am?

[]9/8, 23:04[] I’m afraid to answer that.

[]9/8, 23:04[] O.u.c.h.

[]9/8, 23:06[] You’ve been borderline flirting with me, and you just said you thought I was in my 60’s! What was I supposed to think?

[]9/8, 23:07[] If you’re looking in that age bracket, I’m sure I can get you the Biology Department Head’s number.

[]9/8, 23:07[] He’s 72 with rheumatoid arthritis. 

[]9/8, 23:08[] You are hysterical. So funny.

Hotch is smiling wide down at his phone again, feeling lighter and glad he got them back on track. 

But… 

He can’t help but think back to what he just tried to drop entirely. Blame the Scotch, or whatever drive to know that makes him dig down and root out information in cold cases in his spare time, Hotch doesn’t think he can let it go. Not when it was something Spencer hadn’t meant to be a secret in the first place. Not when, knowing that it has created misinformation between them unintentionally, results in Spencer shying away and hesitant to tell Hotch anything more about himself. 

Not when he’d said ‘flirting’, because that had been what Hotch was doing, and he can’t even describe how disappointing it would be to quit while he was ahead. When the build up has been so gradual and easy and everything he’d been looking for and could never seem to find.

Now, this slight disruption is sticking in his mind, sharp like a thorn in his side. Always there, making itself known, and he wonders if he is lucid enough to try and draw the information out of Spencer via interview tactics -- or if the brilliant man would see right through any of his attempts.

Probably. Who was he kidding? Spencer had more degrees and college hours under his belt than Hotch could manage in a lifetime. Best to do this the old fashioned way, then.

[]9/8, 23:10[] 38.

[]9/8, 23:11[] Oh. Really? That’s kind of young to be Unit Chief, congratulations.

[]9/8, 23:11[] No, not me. You. I’m guessing 38.

[]9/8, 23:12[] Oh.

[]9/8, 23:12[] Incorrect.

[]9/8, 23:13[] I don’t even get a hint?

[]9/8, 23:13[] Nope.

[]9/8, 23:15[] We’re not playing a game. I’m not telling you.

[]9/8, 23:15[] So you won’t guess my age, either?

[]9/18, 23:17[] Chicken.

[]9/8, 23:17[] 45.

Hotch near throws his phone across the room. Almost makes a quip about how reading his file is cheating -- but he knows Spencer just made a stupidly accurate ‘educated guess’ because he knows fucking everything. 

They really should just put him on the payroll. Hotch is being selfish keeping the man all to himself.

But God, is he enjoying it, too.

[]9/8, 23:19[] There’s no way you profiled that with that kind of accuracy. 

[]9/8, 23:20[] How do you do that?

[]9/8, 23:21[] Black magic.

[]9/8, 23:22[] I’ll get it out of you one day, I swear.

[]9/8, 23:23[] And as a man of your word, I believe that you truly believe that.

[]9/8, 23:23[] Full of jokes tonight, aren’t you?

[]9/8, 23:25[] I live to amuse. 

[]9/8, 23:25[] And make you smile.

[]9/8, 23:27[] You are one of the few that do.

With a careful pause, nothing left in his glass, a thought perched on the edges of his mind that is already watery with cognitive dissonance, Hotch starts typing before he’s even fully made the decision.

[]9/8, 23:30[] You really think my flirting is borderline? I was going for subtlety, but I must be rusty.

[]9/8, 23:32[] Actually, I just thought I was projecting.

[]9/8, 23:23[] You were married, I didn’t want to presume.

Oh. 

The consideration is touching, and sobering even in the dimness of his home office, but it draws the softest of smiles back to Hotch’s face when he begins to type out his answer.

[]9/8, 23:35[] Thank you, for thinking of me first.

[]9/8, 23:37[] But Haley and I separated a long time before she died. We were actually divorced before she went into WICSEC. I miss her every day. But I did try to date for a while, before that. 

[]9/8, 23:39[] No luck? I would have thought the FBI badge would at least garner some interest.

[]9/8, 23:40[] I’ve been told I’m intimidating.

[]9/8, 23:41[] I don’t think you are.

[]9/8, 23:42[] You will if you ever meet me. I’ve made underlings cry before without speaking a word.

[]9/8, 23:44[] The Hotchner stare. Have you coined that?

[]9/8, 23:45[] I should. It’s got a ring to it.

They banter and causally slip a few more… flirtatious comments in, and Hotch realizes it really isn’t that much different than before. That he had indeed been flirting with the man long before he knew his age. Which was odd, he didn’t typically go for older men and women. But now that he’s aware Spencer is younger than he thought, possibly even his own age (he swears he is, would put money on it if he could), somehow there’s more of a charge in their correspondence, a warmth and buzzing elation that has nothing to do with his Scotch. Especially now that it’s long gone.

It’s all Spencer, and how they compliment each other, and Hotch finds himself near giddy with that information.

He tries, towards the end of the night where it tips over into the early hours of the morning, to imagine an image of Spencer again -- and finds that he doesn’t even care to. He’s enamored with the man and his wit and the way he makes Hotch laugh without trying. How he looks, his age, it doesn’t matter. Not really. Not to Hotch.

But he is still curious why Spencer won’t reveal it. He can’t be that young.

[]9/9, 00:43[] You really won’t tell me?

[]9/9, 00:45[] Maybe one day. When I’m feeling brave.

[]9/9, 00:46[] Well, I’ll be there. Waiting. 

[]9/9, 00:46[] 32.

[]9/9, 00:47[] You’ll never guess.

[]9/9, 00:48[] There’s only so many numbers.

[]9/9, 00:50[] Goodnight, Hotch.

[9/9, 00:51] Goodnight, Spencer.

-

(tbc...)

-

Tagged List:  @spencehotchner @ssa-sarahsunshine @gothamapologist @reidology @marsjareau @dragon-snaps-fandom​ @emmyraebird @just-an-emo-rat​​​ @aaron-hotchner187 @dk18077 @more-heid-pls @fakin-it-til-i-make-it @merpancake

[onlysarah235678]

A Little Bit

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x female reader

Request: Can you write about the reader working in healthcare/retail (during or not during COVID-your choice) and she meets Billie and they hit it off?

A/N:  So I wrote this a lot faster than I thought I would…don’t expect that to happen again. I hope this is okay. I decided to write about the members of healthcare we don’t always hear about. Also, my friend’s a vet so… enjoy?

Warnings: None? Brief mention of bugs?

It had been wandering around her neighborhood for weeks, but it wasn’t until today that Billie Dean paid it much attention. She’d assumed that the cat was one of her neighbor’s and they just let it roam around. She’d seen its lithe black form darting across the streets on days when she returned from filming late into the night, but besides briefly wondering about where it was going, she never spared it much thought.

However, as she peered under her deck at the sound of quiet meows, she realized she had a problem. She had been out working in her garden on one of her rare days off when she heard it. The medium had turned and seen a pair of eyes from across the yard, and despite her better judgement she went to investigate.

Now, as she stared at the black cat surrounded by her litter of 6, she had a feeling she wouldn’t be getting back to her garden anytime soon.

“Dr. Y/L/N, Lindsey just added another one to your morning.”

You tried not to groan in annoyance when you heard one of the vet assistants say this to you. The day had barely started, but things had been ridiculously busy. The practice you worked at had up to 5 other doctors working at a time on a regular weekday, but since today was Saturday, there were only two working.

Dr. Hahn and you.

The schedule had already been booked by the time you arrived to work, and it was just luck that you had a cancellation for your 11:30 slot. You had already planned on taking an early lunch when news of another appointment being scheduled came. You tried not to be annoyed because this was your job and you did love it. You were just exhausted. It had been a long week.

A long month really.

Since moving to L.A after finishing school, you hadn’t spent much time doing anything other than work. Let alone getting to know the city. You had jumped into your work and spent almost every waking minute thinking about it. As a new vet, you were trying your best to prove yourself and make a good impression at your job. You thought you were doing a fairly good job, but you hadn’t allowed yourself to have much time to yourself.

Other than walking your dog, Milo, who had made the cross-country trip with you, most of your free time was spent making sure you had the most up-to-date information out there to offer your clients. You didn’t want to be caught off guard, not again.

You eventually smiled at the assistant and thanked her despite wanting to glare instead.

“Thank you, Erin.”

It wasn’t her fault you weren’t getting your early lunch.

After corralling the cat and her kittens into the most suitable container she could find, Billie Dean was on her way to the vet. She had called a couple and unfortunately hadn’t been able to get an appointment so last minute. She had almost given up, when the last one she’d called had luckily had a cancellation for only about an hour away.

It was perfect timing until it took her almost 20 minutes to get the cats out from under the deck. The mom hadn’t trusted her immediately and it had taken some coaxing before she’d risked reaching out to pet the mother. While speaking more reassurances that she was sure the cats didn’t understand, Billie Dean collected all 6 kittens and the mother and loaded them into the front seat.

It wasn’t until she started driving that she realized she might be late. This clinic was almost 30 minutes away with normal weekend traffic. Billie Dean sighed before she made sure that all of the cats were still settled in the box before beginning to drive a little bit faster.

Hopefully she wouldn’t be too late.

“They’re late.”

You hadn’t realized it immediately because your last appointment ran over, but once 11:40 rolled around you realized that your 11:30 had never shown up.

You had looked over the details of the appointment quickly realizing that hopefully it would be routine kitten stuff. You hadn’t recognized the name of the owner because well, you didn’t watch much television. It wasn’t until the assistant you were working with for the morning, commented on it, that you realized that Billie Dean Howard was anything special.

“Oh no! She didn’t show up?? Ugh, I was dying to meet her.”

You turned to your disappointed assistant, Erin with a confused frown. You continued to type up your medical note from the last appointment before asking off-handedly.

“Who did you say she was again?”

If you had been paying more attention, you would have noticed Erin shoot you an incredulous look. Instead you were writing about the last patient’s bloodwork when the brunette finally answered you.

“Look, Dr. Y/L/N. I know you’re new to town, but how do you not know who Billie Dean Howard is?”

You just shrugged while shooting the younger woman a sheepish look. You were very good about being the last to know things. It wasn’t your fault you were so out of touch from school. There had hardly been any time for television when you were always studying.

“Sorry, you know I don’t watch much tv.”

Erin shook her head with a sigh before she decided to take pity on you. You finished typing your note and turned to face the other brunette as she explained to you who your missed appointment had been.

“She’s a famous medium who goes to various places around the world that are haunted for her television show. It’s so good, I watched an entire season yesterday.”

Before you had a chance to ask how that was possible, Lindsey appeared with a piece of paper and a sympathetic smile on her face.

“Your 11:30 is here.”

You looked at the clock, it was a quarter to noon, before you just nodded with a small smile. Lindsey handed the check in sheet to Erin who grabbed it with an excited squeal that made you nearly roll your eyes.

At least one of you were excited for this.

Billie Dean was beyond stressed. She had been making good time for her appointment, when the mom cat, she’d taken to calling her Bit, had decided to jump out of the box and explore her car. She’d been so distracted and worried that she’d slowed to the point that people were honking her off the road. She’d stopped in a parking lot to try and get Bit back into the box, but as soon as the door opened, she’d jumped out.

Billie had questioned her decision to not just ignore the cat this morning as she spent the next 15 minutes trying to catch Bit and return her to the car.

Now, she was really late and she knew that she had probably missed her appointment. She hurried inside with the box, making sure to hold onto Bit so she didn’t jump out again before opening the front door. She hurried toward the counter with an apologetic smile and a hopeful look.

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I had a bit of a time getting here. I have an appointment for 11:30.”

Billie figured she didn’t need to give her name because the look on the receptionist’s face when she saw her was telling enough. She was used to having fans so she just smiled politely as the other blonde, Lindsey, her nametag said, nodded frantically and ran to the printer.

“Of course, Ms. Howard. I’ll let them know you’re here.”

Billie watched as the younger blonde nearly ran toward the back before she sat down with a sigh. She looked at the box of cats with a small smile. She scratched Bit’s chin before she checked on each of the kittens. They all looked so tiny and weak. They all were huddled up in the middle of the box sleeping on top of each other. It was truly adorable.

“Ms. Howard?”

The medium had been too busy contemplating how many of the kittens she could keep to realize that someone else had entered the waiting room. She looked up to see a brunette smiling at her and holding a door to the back open. She jumped up, clutching onto the box carefully before making her way over to the woman in scrubs.

“Hi. I’m sorry I’m late.”

Erin just smiled and shook her head as she led Billie Dean to a nearby exam room. She’d already screamed silently before coming to get the blonde so she wouldn’t geek out, but she couldn’t help but be a little starstruck by the medium’s presence.

“It’s not a problem, we’re just glad to see kittens on our schedule.”

You waited while your assistant got the history from Billie Dean. From where you were seated in the pharmacy, you could hear some of what was being said. It sounded like a standard visit. No issues except for apparently a random cat decided to have kittens underneath Billie’s porch. You tried not to overthink this visit as you listened to the blonde talk to her assistant. You hadn’t been nervous before because you hadn’t really needed to be.

Except that was when you hadn’t known that you were going to be seeing someone who was famous. Someone whose name you didn’t even recognize, but that was beside the point. The point was that now that the idea was in your head, you were freaking out a little bit.

You could hear a slight accent in her voice and you couldn’t help but smile at it. It sounded cute.

You sat up slightly, startled at the sudden thought. You shook your head scolding yourself for being so unprofessional and attempted to push that thought to the back of your mind. You turned at the sound of the exam door opening and watched as Erin shut it behind her quietly with a huge smile on her face.

“She’s so cool. Oh my god that was so cool!”

She whisper screamed at you and you couldn’t help but laugh in amusement. Someone was clearly starstruck. Hopefully she could get through this without embarrassing them. Or at least her. Anyone. Hopefully no one would be embarrassed.

“Hi, Ms. Howard. I’m Y/F/N, Y/L/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

You were surprised by what greeted you inside the exam room. The cat that was bouncing around the room was less of a surprise than the woman who sat in one of the chairs against the wall. You had to stop herself from showing your surprise as you took in the blonde who you’d never heard of until about an hour ago.

Billie Dean Howard wasn’t what you’d been expecting. She was middle-aged with honey blonde hair that fell in neat curls. She was wearing a silk blouse and a skirt with heels. She was definitely the most dressed up of all of your clients today. God, she was beautiful and you had to remind yourself to not stare at her legs as you held out your hand.

The medium smiled as she reached out her own hand and shook yours. Her hand was so soft, but you counted to two before releasing it with a shake of your head.

“Nice to meet you Dr. Y/L/N. I apologize for being so late.” You smiled at the thought of what Erin had told you. It sounded like she had a hell of a time getting here. You couldn’t blame her after what she’d gone through to simply get these cats looked at.

“No need. It sounds like this one was quite the troublemaker.” You pet Bit as she wandered over to you to check you out, and you smiled as she rubbed her face on your hand.

You noticed Billie roll her eyes with a sigh and you couldn’t help but smile at what she said.

“She definitely was. That’s where her name came from after all.”

You frowned in confusion but didn’t get a chance to ask before Billie was explaining herself. She eyed you curiously as she shrugged indifferently.

“I may have called her, her name with an added ‘ch’ a couple times on the way here. Specifically, while I was chasing her around a Denny’s parking lot.”

You tried not to laugh at the ridiculous image that conjured in your brain, but it was useless. You were laughing before you could help it because honestly who wouldn’t find this elegant woman running after a cat in a parking lot hilarious.

You stifled your laughter before you cleared your throat and shot Billie a smile. “Well, it sounds like the name suits her.”

You examine each of the kittens carefully, and confirm that they are less than a week old since their eyes are still closed. They are all a little buggy from living under the deck so you deworm them and Bit so she won’t spread any parasites to them. As you explain this to Billie while applying the medication, you notice that she is shooting you an odd look. You don’t really worry too much about it because it’s probably just confusion from a too-sciency word you used.

When the kittens are all checked out and the mom is back in the box resting with them, you decide that you should figure out what happens next.

“They’ll need their mom for milk for the next month, but have you decided if you want to keep them?”

Erin leaves at this point because now that the exams are done, you’re mostly just talking. You pretend not to notice how she is reluctant to leave, and instead focus on Billie’s wide eyes as she shakes her head with a laugh.

“No, I don’t think I can keep them all. Maybe one or two. I don’t want to be known as the crazy old cat lady.”

You laugh again before moving your stethoscope off the exam table so it’s not sitting in all of the baby food you fed to Bit. “You’re definitely not old, Ms. Howard.”

You nearly slap your hand to your mouth as your eyes widen in mortification. God you did not just say that did you? You look to the blonde about to apologize, but you see her smiling at you instead. You hear her teasing tone and blush despite your best efforts at what she says in response.

“Thank you dear, but please. Call me Billie.”

You nod dumbly before you start picking off some of the black hair on your coat, only to give up after a few seconds. You’re covered and you miss the amused look Billie shoots you as you try to get back on track.

“Okay, Billie. Well once they’re old enough, you can take them to a shelter, or you can bring them here. We adopt out kittens. Our last ones actually just went home with some clients.”

It’s nearly 12:30 when you’re finished answering some of Billie’s general questions. You had an assistant find a carrier for Billie to take so she wouldn’t have to worry about Bit escaping again. You load the cats into it while Billie gets checked out at the front desk. By the time she gets back, you have only Bit left to put in.

Of course she decides she’d rather run around the room though. You ignore your growling stomach which conveniently covers up the sound of the door opening behind you as you hurry to catch the cat.

“Come here you little, Bit. You need to get in here so your mom doesn’t lose you at Denny’s again.”

Once you finally get her inside the carrier and close it with a sigh, you realize that you are being watched. You look up from where you’re kneeling on the ground to see Billie watching you from the doorway with a smile. You fight a blush as you pick up the carrier carefully before taking a step toward the door.

“Here, let me help you to your car.”

Billie shook her head. She’d already taken up a lot of your time. It was nearly 1 and most everyone else was on lunch.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, sweetheart. I’ve already taken up too much of your time.”

Billie looked like she was going to argue, but you just stood with the carrier held in your hand with a smile. Ready to go. She sighed and your smile widened as you followed the blonde out of the building.

You nearly stop short at the pet name, the second pet name she’s used, but you recover just in time to shake your head with a smile.

“Don’t be silly. It’s not a problem.”

You arrive to her car without incident and she opens the backdoor for you. You smile before placing them in the back seat, trying not to be too nosy as you duck into her car before standing up straight again.

“You’re all set, Ms—Billie.”

Billie smiles at your save as she shuts the door behind you. You stand by awkwardly as she takes a moment to study you. She opens her mouth to say something but stops short before simply nodding.

“Thank you again. It was nice to meet you, Dr. Y/L/N.”

You blush before waving her off as you look away to hopefully save face before responding. “Y/F/N, please and you too.”

As you’re about to turn away and head back inside for some much-needed lunch when something occurs to you. You smile slightly as you dig into your pocket and grab a card to hand to her. The medium takes your business card with a smile, and her fingers brush against yours briefly. Your cheeks redden and you curse yourself when you see Billie’s smile turn into a smirk. You manage to speak up before she can and drop your hand away and into your pocket.

“My card. In case you have any questions. You can call us or email anytime.”

Billie looked over the card, realizing that it had the clinic’s number and a shared email address on it. She decided not to be deterred and shot the blushing doctor a curious look.

“So in the event of an emergency, and the clinic’s closed…what number would I call?”

You laughed nervously as you thought about your options. You could tell that Billie was flirting. You were dense, but not that dense, and you decided to take a risk. You shrugged before you dug around in your pocket once again for a pen before reaching out for the card you’d just given away.

“Well you could call the emergency clinic up the road, or you can call me. Whichever.”

Billie looks at the number that you scrawled down with a grin. “This is your personal number?”

You smirked before taking a step back toward the building hoping to retreat before you say something too dumb. “It is. To use for emergencies or whatever else.”

You smile a little wider as Billie’s face lights up and she shoots you a suggestive look. You merely laugh before turning around and heading back inside. You know she’s watching you, but you don’t turn around until you reach the door. You’re not surprised to see her still standing there watching, and you shoot her one last smile and wave before ducking back inside.

Part 2 

[elocinnicole]

Peace & Quiet-Part Two

AN: Here’s part two to Peace & Quiet, extremely sorry this was delayed. I work 12+ hours days. I would open at 6:45 AM and then close around 9:30 most nights, so the last thing I wanted to do when I got home was write. I’m currently working on the next installment and that should be out not later than the end of the month. It’s still 2020 in this fic since it’s the reader’s birthday. This is still set in the summer time. This was not proofread I didn’t have want to make you all wait any longer

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Black!Reader

Rating: M for smut and language

Summary: You and Daveed continue your birthday weekend in the hopes of finally finding time for yourselves.

As Daveed promised, the next day was spent pampering you, you woke up to breakfast in bed, then after that, the two of you took another bath, teasing one another throughout. Today, you were supposed to be getting ready for your couples’ massage at the beach, but Daveed had you bent over the kitchen counter, thrusting into you from behind at a rough pace.

“Oooh, shit, wait, wait,” You moved your hand behind you to place on Daveed’s abs, he swatted your hand away and pinned it against your back.

“Nah, keep that hand away.” He gritted snapping his hips forward making you tightly grip the sink.

“Daveed, I’m close,” You moaned, you could feel the orgasm coming.

“Fuck!” Loud several knocks at the door stopped the two of you.

“Babe, ignore it” You groaned pushing back, chasing your orgasm.

“Excuse me, Mr. Diggs, we’re ready for the couples massage. We set up on the beach behind the house.” The masseuse shouted through the front door. You whined, feeling Daveed pull out of you.

“Babe,” You pouted while Daveed put his robe on.

“I know, but we only have them for an hour. I promise I’ll make it up to you after the massage.”

The massage went extremely slow for your standards. You were becoming increasingly frustrated this was worse than edging, at least you knew you would eventually meet your sweet release but this was torture. The whole weekend something came in between the two of you, hopefully, after the massage, you would have time to continue what you’ve been trying to do all weekend.

But after the massage, Daveed had something else planned, a trip to the winery. Which you didn’t mind but you had something up your sleeve, you decided to wear an outfit you know Daveed wouldn’t get enough of.

When you came down the stairs, you got the reaction from Daveed that you wanted, smirking you did a turn showing off your outfit some more.

“You like it?” Daveed cleared his throat, suddenly not having anything to say.

“Yeah, you look great.” You kissed his cheek

“Great, let’s go.”

Daveed had a hard time focusing on the different types of wine that were being explained to him, everything you did was a tease, the way you ate the fruit, the moan you would do every time you took a sip of wine. He knew you were doing it on purpose to mess with him after this morning. Two can play that game.

“I’m going to the bathroom, I’ll be back.” You said you quickly made your way to the restroom, luckily enough for you, it was a single stall, which made your plan even better. A wicked idea came into your mind

“That was cute,” Daveed whispered darkly in your ear when you sat back down. The rest of the time you were at the winery you noticed how calm Daveed was, he barely reacted to your constant teasing. You did everything you could think of to get a reaction out of him, huffing you gave up. That’s when you got a call from your best friend from Baltimore. When you put the phone to your ear you felt Daveed’s hand on your thigh, you didn’t think anything of it until he gave you a gentle squeeze.

“Hi, Asha,”

“Aye, one time for the birthday bish! Two times for the birthday bish! Three times for the birthday bish! Fuck it up if it’s your birthday bish!” You laughed at your friend but still being very mindful of Daveed’s hand on your thigh, “Happy Birthday friend!”

Asha has been your best friend since middle school the two of you were in the same dance class and from there it was history, you went through high school together and you both went to Howard, both majoring in theatre arts, you went the Musical Theatre route and your friend Asha went the Dance route, the same sorority, you even roomed together. She is now a company dancer with Complexions Contemporary Ballet.

“Thank you boo,” Everything Asha said went out the window when you felt Daveed move your panties to the side.

“Y/N? I asked how’s your weekend?”

“Hm, um, oh, Daveed took me to Martha’s Vineyard for the weekend.” You bite back a moan when Daveed’s fingers started to slowly massage your clit.

“Aww, that’s sweet, so that means Ma is watching Daniel? The godson I only met once?” Your best friend teased

“Girl, you’re the one that’s—” You stopped mid-sentence flighting the urge to moan out loud when Daveed pushed two fingers inside of you.

“Y/N, sis you still there?”

Daveed leaned in close to you gently nibbling on your ear, “I think your friend’s talking to you, babe.”

“Y/N? You there?”

“Um, yeah, mhm, hmm. I um, my bad girl, what were we talking about?”

“Bish…are you gettin’ dick some right now?”

“Huh?!” You said loudly, surprised at what your friend said, and by Daveed adding another finger.

“Oh em gee, bish you fuckin? Girl go ahead and do a split on the d! Call me back!” You quickly ended the phone call now completely focusing on Daveed who began to litter your neck with kisses

“You close baby?” You nodded your head, not having the words to speak you whined when Daveed suddenly pulled out his fingers

“That was for sending me those pictures,” Daveed pressed one final kiss to your neck as the wine connoisseur approached your table.

“Have the two of you decided on which wines you will be purchasing?”

“Have you picked a wine, babe?” Daveed asked, you eyed your boyfriend not amused at all.

“Um, we’ll take the Rosè, Merlot, the Red Blend, and the Pinot Grigio please.” You managed to get out.

“Very well, I’ll be right back with your wine.”

“Two can play that game,” You said with a mischievous look in your eyes.

After the winery trip, Daveed took you to dinner, it was a small restaurant off the beach. It set a romantic atmosphere for those who dined outside to see the sun setting.

“I know you said you didn’t want any gifts,” Daveed started “but I couldn’t let the weekend go by without giving you anything.” Daveed handed you a bag which you took not without playfully rolling your eyes.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, being here with you is more than enough.” When you pulled the gift out of your bag, it was a simple white picture frame. Inside the frame was a picture of the two of you from the Angelica Tour afterparty. It was a candid shot of the two of you laughing at each other on the dance floor.

“Daveed, how did you get this picture?” You asked, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“I talked to Lin to see if he still had the photographer’s info and from there I asked him to send me any pictures of the two of us.”

“That is so thoughtful, thank you, baby.” You gushed

“There’s more,” Daveed said urging you to continue to look in the bag. You reach down and pulled out a smaller picture frame but this one had a picture of the stars as you looked at the picture, below the stars read, “March 23, 2017, Y/N & Daveed”. The date of the official opening of the Angelica Tour of Hamilton. If the first gift didn’t make you cry this one did, you remember telling Daveed that you’ve always loved looking at stars, ever since you were a little girl.

“This is what the stars looked like on the night we met and I’m so lucky and grateful that you bumped into me that night,” You let out a laugh while drying away your tears. “these past three years have been the best and I can’t wait to keep doing life with you. Happy Birthday, baby.”

“Thank you so much Daveed, I love you so much.” The rest of the dinner was spent stealing sweet kisses and flirting with one another, but what Daveed didn’t know was that you still had something up your sleeve for that stunt he pulled at the winery.

This was your last night before going back to New York and you and Daveed had yet to sex without any interruptions and that was going to change tonight. So, you put on your newest Savage Fenty Lingerie set a birthday gift to yourself. It was a red bra and panties with matching pantyhose and red pumps. You sauntered your way downstairs where Daveed was on the phone with someone from Starz.

“So, Rafa and I were thinking about having filmin begin at the end of the year? We want to have an open casting call for some of the recurring roles,” That was when you took it upon yourself to make your presence known and enter the kitchen.

Daveed didn’t even hear the exec’s statement he was too busy looking at you. He placed his hand over the receiver

“I’m on the phone, babe” Daveed whispered loudly

“I don’t care.” You started to dance seductively, running your hands all over your body caressing yourself. Making sure to moan loud enough so Daveed could hear you.

“Daveed, you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m still here, uh-uh, so once we cast the recurring roles, a table read of the season will be the next thing we tackle right?” You caught Daveed’s attention again when you shimmied your panties off, flinging it in Daveed’s face. You made your way to Daveed, straddling his lap.

“This is for the winery.” You whispered into his ear before grinding your hips.

“Um-um-um, Rafa and I planned on doing an open casting call for the recurring roles.” Daveed stuttered, he let out a low moan when you nibbled on the sweet spot on his neck.

“You there Daveed?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m here.” You hopped off his lap and sank down to your knees facing him, massaging his thighs.

“What are you doing?” Daveed questioned

“I’m thanking you for my birthday gift baby.” You said batting your eyelashes. You palmed him through his jeans earning a low moan out of him.

“Y/N, I’m almost done give me five minutes,”

“No,” You unzipped his pants, stroking him again through his boxers. You pulled out his dick and placed a kiss on the tip.

“Y/N,” You ignored him and start to slowly stroke him, you gave him on long lick before taking him as far as you could.

“Fuck!” Daveed said aloud

“Daveed?”

“Sorry, I uh dropped a bottle of wine. I gotta go, Dan. Rafa and I will set up a Zoom meeting for next week. Bye.” Daveed quickly ended the call and placed all his attention on you.

“Shit, Y/N”

Daveed trusted his hips up his dick hitting the back of your throat.

“Damn, baby you gonna make me cum.”

Swirling your tongue around his dick you pulled off and Daveed pulled you in for a sloppy kiss.

“Just couldn’t be patient?” Daveed said against your lips

“That was for my birthday gift,” You smiled mischievously you yelped when Daveed pick you up and placed on you on his lap. Feeling his dick you begin to grind on him

“Daveed,” you moaned,

“What do you want, baby?”

“I want you to make love to me,” Daveed stood up and walked the two of you upstairs to your bedroom. He gently placed you down on the bed before standing back up and getting undressed.

You sat up on your elbows to look at the man standing before you. Sometimes you stare at boyfriend and think about how lucky you were to have him in your life. Daveed noticed you staring and smirked

“See something you like?” You bit your lip nodding at him. Daveed climbed back on to and the two of met in a sweet loving kiss, like you and Daveed poured all of your emotions into the kiss. You reached down but Daveed put your arm back,

“Not yet, Daveed kissed his way down your body while pushing you to lie back, he got to your stretch marks and kissed them lovingly.

“I love you so much, Y/N. All of you, your energy, your smile, voice,” He pushed your legs up to your chest

“Damn, baby, and that ass.” He gently kiss and bit down on your thighs, actively avoiding your dripping center. You groaned in frustration

“Daveed, please,”

“I got you babe,” Daveed licked your clit in one lang swipe, causing you to arch your back. Daveed took his time dragging his tongue through your folds. There were times where sex with Daveed was rough like this morning but there were others time when the two of took your time showing your love. This was one of those times. Daveed sucked on your sensitive clit while teasing your entrance with three fingers.

“Can you take three baby?” You nodded not being able to ind the words to speak

“I need your words baby,” Daveed said gently biting down on your clit.

“Yes, Daveed, please.” He plunged his finger immediately in ding your g-spot. Between him sucking on your clit and his fingers the pleasure you were experiencing was overwhelming.

“Daveed I’m gonna come,” You panted

“You gonna come on my fingers, Y/N?” Daveed teased not slowing down his fingers

“Mhm hmm,” You moaned aloud as you came, Daveed removed his fingers and placed them in his own moving a the taste of you on his fingers. Daveed moved back up your body, he reached down and placed himself a your entrance and pushed in, both of you letting out a moan. Daveed slowly thrusted hips in and out wanting to make this moment between the two of you last forever. You kissed him passionately moaning into his mouth. Daveed kept a steady pace loving the way you breathed is name like a chant,

“Damn, Y/N, you feel so good around me.”

Daveed grabbed one of your breast and started to suck ad bite on your nipple while toying with the other one.

“I love you so much Daveed,” You hands gripping his biceps, moaning when Daveed sped up his pace

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” Daveed growled into your ear, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him close to you.

“I love you, you’re so perfect, to me, to our son, God I don’t deserve you.”

“Oh shit, Daveed,” You dug your nails into his bas, he could feel your walls tightening around him and knew you were holding back.

“Come on, Y/N, you can let go baby.”

“Don’t stop Daveed, don’t stop,” You cried as your long awaited orgasm flooded your senses, Daveed kept up his pace he came not long after you, he rested his head in the crook of your neck, being careful to not put all of his body weight on you. Pulling the cover over your bodies, you cuddled up to Daveed, both of you basking in the afterglow.

“Thank you so much for this weekend, I really did appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome, I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too.’ You shared a sweet kiss before sleep came over you. Daveed was up admiring you, drawing circles on against your soft skin. He pressed a sweet kiss to your bare shoulder,

“Happy Birthday, Mrs. Diggs.” He whispered against your skin, before pulling you close to him and falling a sleep.

[jewishtwilightrenaissance]

Two Become One

Notes: Since I myself am a Jew and both the culture & faith is really important to me, I wanted to add that into the story to add some depth and something for the characters to bond over. I got really emotional about it towards the end, but hopefully it just adds to the story!

Also, this originally started as a ‘Life and Death’ fic with Billy’s female version, Bonnie Black, but I really wanted to celebrate OG Billy first. So let me know if y’all want to see that, too!

Context & Plot: The reader is in their mid-20′s and has just recently moved to Forks. By being a member of the Forks Intracommunal Committee, the reader happens to meet Billy Black, a Quileute Council member who serves on the Forks Committee with her. They strike up a friendship that soon evolves into a romance.

Word Count: 3,048

“____!” A familiar voice cut through the din of the committee, drawing your attention from your notepad. You looked up and over your shoulder to see Billy Black wheeling towards you with a bright smile on his face. “How are you?”

“Billy, hi. I’m good,” you answered. As Billy approached the table, you nudged the folding chair on your right to one side to allow enough room for his wheelchair. “Meeting’s about to start. You got here just in time.”

He hummed in response. “I had a few things to take care of back home. Namely Jacob and the other kids,” Bonnie added with a chuckle.

Somewhere in your chest, you felt a muscle tighten. You’d heard plenty about the escapades of Billy’s youngest child, a rowdy teen who just so happened to be about 10 years younger than you. That in and of itself wasn’t a bad thing, but it did remind you that you were at least 20 years out of Billy’s age range. You bit back a sigh and turned your attention back to your notepad, eyeing your hastily scribbled notes and doodles.

You and Billy exchanged a few more pleasantries before the meeting officially started a few minutes later. A few local business owners and church leaders brought up whatever it was they had to say but in all honesty, you had trouble concentrating on them with Billy sitting right next to you. It was ridiculous - you were a mature adult who had left her puberty years well behind her, but sitting next to your crush made you feel like a teenager all over again. His long hair,  dark eyes, his smile - they were all so rich and full of life, full of energy just like Billy. And like a damn prepubescent, you’d fallen for it all.

A nudge against your thigh caught your attention and you blinked yourself back to reality. Billy was leaning in your direction, one arm braced against his wheelchair, and there was a note pushed into your line of sight. ‘Today is more boring than usual. I think I caught Hank dozing off.’ You let out a quick breath through your nose and bit down on the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

Grabbing your pen, you wrote back, ‘I think I almost caught myself dozing off,’ and passed the note to Billy’s end of the table. Crush or no crush, Billy was also your best (if not only) friend in Forks and you loved the absolute hilarity of passing notes with your 40+ bestie in the middle of class a meeting.

Eventually, the meeting came to a close and it was your turn to share with the committee (and hopefully no one would be ignoring you like you had been earlier). Energy was thrumming in your fingertips as you anxiously gathered and regathered your notes and pen, 15 sets of eyes on you. You cleared your throat.

“So as I hope you all remember, Forks’ spring interfaith gathering will be in 2 weeks time on the 21st. First, I want to share how excited I am.” By now your nerves had turned to eagerness, and you rubbed your palms together with a smile. “But I also want to say thank you to everyone here for allowing me to run this event, seeing as I’m so new to the community. I especially want to thank Father Thomas, Pastor Martinez, Pastor O’Callaghan, and Billy Black for working with me and allowing me to work with their communities. It really means the world to me.

“I also have some really awesome news regarding the event. As you all know, there are no synagogues or notable Jewish communities under an hour away from Forks. But I’ve managed to reach out to a few Jews individuals and families in the county who are going to be reading some prayers and scripture with me. Other than that, I don’t have anything else to update you on. But I’m excited to see everyone there!”

Some scattered applause and supportive remarks followed your announcement before the committee leader brought the meeting to an end. After fielding a few questions about the event, most of the committee members had started to leave. Billy, you noticed, had stayed behind, as if he was waiting for you. Or so it seemed, if the curious shine in his eyes was anything to go by.

You raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Yes?”

“I received an interesting letter in the mail this morning,” Billy said, the corner of his lips twisting into a knowing smile. Your cheeks immediately flushed and you dipped your head to avoid his gaze for a moment, as if you’d been caught red-handed with your hand in the cookie jar.

“You did, huh?”

Billy laughed; music to your ears. “You really didn’t have to send me a thank you card, ____.”

You shrugged, looking up a little shyly through your eyelashes. “You’ve made me feel really welcomed here, Billy. Not just as a fellow committee member, but as a friend. Inviting me into your home, introducing me to your family, everything! It really means a lot. I-I... I just wanted to show you that I appreciate it.” And, you added to yourself, I guess it doesn’t hurt that I have feelings for you.

There was a tenderness to Billy’s eyes that made you feel some type of way. You could tell he was touched by your gesture.

“Thank you.” He backed away from the table and waited for you to follow suit. Once you had gathered your things and pushed your chair in, he started wheeling alongside you, keeping pace with your footsteps. “If your offer still stands, I’d be happy to come over tonight.”

You could’ve sworn your heart skipped a beat. When you first sent out Billy’s letter, you’d invited him to come to your place for Shabbat dinner as a way of showing your thanks and also respect for his culture by sharing yours in return. You may have also had a little bit of wine at the time and had plans on making the evening romantic-coded.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d really want to join me or not,” you said hesitantly. “But-”

“I do. Like you said, there aren’t many Jews around Forks and certainly not out in La Push. It would be good to learn more about your people and traditions, the things that are important to you.”

You caught Billy’s eyes and smiled. “Like you did with me.”

G-d, you were such a sucker for his shining eyes. Deep and dark like the forest itself, like the rocks and sand on the beaches, like rich coffee grounds at the bottom of a mug.

He nodded. “Yes.”

By now, the two of you had left the meeting room behind and were in the parking lot outside. The sun was peeking through the heavy cloud cover while a gentle misting of rain swirled in the air. You could see that Billy’s truck had been parked a few spaces away from your own.

“It’s close to 4:30,” you said after checking your phone. “I’m lighting my candles around 6 tonight. Did you want me to give you a ride to my place or would you like to come over a little later?” You’d hardly given Billy a second to think before adding, “I still have some cooking to do, but you’re more than welcome to relax while I do that.”

Billy nodded thoughtfully. “You have any beer?”

“I may have one or two cans that I saved just in case you were ever over,” you admitted.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

Shabbat evenings were always hectic for you and this night was no different. Between keeping your challah from burning, keeping an eye on the clock, ensuring the rest of the food was kept warm without overcooking, and making sure Billy felt comfortable and welcome in your home, you were sure you’d gained a few gray hairs. Luckily, though, dinner was ready at about the time the sun finally set and the twilight hour descended.

After setting the challah on your best dish (your challah board and cover was still missing in the abyss of your unopened moving boxes), serving up two plates of food and placing them just so on the table, you dug out your candlesticks and shabbos candles. Billy watched you silently as you wrapped the bottom of the candles in foil and balanced them in the candlesticks.

“The candles are meant to stay lit until they burn out,” you explained. “It’s just easier to clean up this way.”

You fidgeted with the silverware at your place setting, then the vase of flowers in the center of the table, then finally sighed and let your hands fall to your sides. You’d been so anxious about wanting to put on a good first Shabbat impression for Billy that you’d forgotten the night was meant to be enjoyable for both of you.

Billy, it seemed, had picked up on your anxious energy and kindly said, “It looks wonderful, ____.”

“Thanks.” You chewed on your bottom lip somewhat thoughtfully, giving the table a final glance over. “I suppose we should start before the food gets cold, huh?”

You pulled out your chair and settled down as Billy moved his wheelchair into the open space across the table from you, his hat placed on the couch behind him. The tiny box of matches rattled when you slipped out a match and lit it. The warm, comforting glow of the candles soon followed and you felt your anxieties dissipate in response. You circled your hands once, twice, three times over the flames, drawing their light in towards your body. You took a breath - in through your nose, out through your mouth - and let your eyes flutter closed, your hands hovering above them to block out the extra light.

“Baruch ata Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha’olam, asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav vitzivanu l’hadlik ner shel Shabbat.” Then again, in English. “Blessed are You, Adonai, Ruler of the Universe, who sanctified us with the commandment of lighting Shabbat candles.”

When you opened your eyes again, you looked across the table at Billy and saw the reflection of the candles flickering in his eyes. In that moment, bathed in holy light, he was stunning. You gasped and smiled and committed the moment to memory as he gazed back at you, wordless yet clearly moved. Your cheeks were already starting to hurt from smiling so broadly.

“Shabbat shalom, Billy,” you all but whispered.

His eyes, large and all-consuming in their beauty and warmth, drew you in. “Shabbat shalom.”

After the lighting of the candles came one of your favorite songs, the song that welcomed in peace the Sabbath angels into your home. You offered Billy a short explanation of the song’s meaning before finally singing your own rendition. He was silent the entire time and you hoped that he didn’t feel left out at all, but the emotion shining in his eyes told you that your worries were the farthest thing from the truth. Next, came Eshet Chayil, recited in English from your old siddur. And finally, Vayechulu and Kiddush.

Your voice started out as a whisper, recalling the holy memory of creation and the day of rest as first practiced by G-d Himself. Prompting Billy to repeat after you, you raised your glass of wine. “L’chaim!” There was an indescribable joy in seeing Billy participate in your culture, in hearing him say something as simple as a mere l’chaim and knowing that he honored it, respected it, and honored and respected you as well. It was because of that realization that your heart swelled with pride and tears threatened to choke your words as you finished the Kiddush blessing.

“Blessed are you, Adonai our G-d, Ruler of the Universe, who has sanctified us with his commandments and favored us. And given us in love and favor his holy Shabbat as an inheritance, as a remembrance of the act of creation.” Here your voice faltered. In the presence of someone you loved, in the presence of the Sabbath angels and even the Divine Presence itself, you felt the calling of your people. “For this day is the beginning of all holy days, a remembrance of the Exodus from Egypt. For you have chosen us and you have blessed us from among all the nations.” Indeed, you were chosen. Like those who had come before you, G-d chose you to be His, to be given the gift of His commandments. And in this moment, you were choosing to share that inheritance with Billy, to give him a window into your world to see it in beautiful detail. “And you have bequeathed us your holy Shabbat in love and favor. Blessed are you, Lord, who sanctifies Shabbat.”

Both you and Billy were left speechless once the final words of Kiddush left your lips. You felt raw and exposed, bare for Billy to see every detail, every flaw, every crease and line from your body down to your soul. Is this how he had felt when he brought you to the reservation and showed you his own traditions, welcomed you into his home and shared the stories of his people? Did he know how highly your regarded him, his people? Did he understand that you could see that same regard in his eyes as he watched you now?

Your voice cracked when you finally spoke again. “Billy.” You swallowed nervously as a number of mixed emotions began to bubble inside you. “Thank you for being here tonight.”

“It’s my honor.” His voice seemed raw.

You reached across the table with an open hand. He gently placed his hand in yours and you both smiled. “Can I tell you something?” He nodded, his eyes again catching the light of the candles. “I like you.” Cringe. “I really like you. More than a friend.” Billy remained silent, only raising his eyebrows in an entirely imperceptible expression. “I know this might be weird to you. I don’t know. And, I mean, the chance of you also being interested in me is so low. I get that. No matter what, I want to be your friend. But... but having you here tonight, after learning about you and your people, the traditions you hold dear, and after sharing my own with you, I realize that I want to share more with you.

“I want to hear more about all the trouble Jacob’s getting up to and how your daughters are doing. I want to hear more about what you have to say about the things that are important to you, even if it’s just some stupid football game.” Billy chuckled and squeezed your thumb. Your heart was pounding deep in your chest as if it were going to explode. “I see you, Billy. And I know you see me, too. And I never want to stop seeing you.”

The room was silent. So silent that it was almost uncomfortable, except for the occasional crackling of the candles. Billy, still quiet and with an unreadable expression, slipped his hand from yours and moved his wheelchair back. Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. You retracted your arm as if you’d been burnt and held it against your chest. You wanted to look away, you didn’t want to see his expression turn angry or disappointed as you were sure it would, but you also couldn’t tear your gaze from those deep, dark eyes.

“Fuck, Billy, I’m sorry.”

Your face fell into your hands. What the hell had you been thinking? What had started out as a beautiful evening was starting to go to shit all because you had to open your dumb mouth.

“____.” Billy’s voice drew you from your inner-scolding. He moved around the dinner table and came to sit beside you. “Don’t apologize.”

By this point, the several sips of wine that you had taken earlier were starting to create a buzzing sensation in your stomach. And Billy’s sudden close proximity was making the buzzing more intense. Oh no.

You felt the skin of his hand rest on your arm; he was warm. “You’re right,” he whispered. “I do see you. I always have.”

You and he had never been quite this close before. You could see in detail the creases at the corners of his eyes, the few stray hairs of his eyebrows, the stubble along his neck and chin. You wondered what aspects of your face stood out to him as his eyes flitted across your features. Billy’s smile was what finally did you in. Were you blushing? You suddenly felt very hot.

He moved his hand from your arm and pushed himself forward until his knees bumped against your chair. Turning in your seat and folding one knee under you, you were able to fully face him. Billy’s gaze dropped to your mouth and paused, and you suddenly either felt like flying or like vomiting.

“Billy?”

You couldn’t have said anything more if you wanted to. Billy leaned forward, took your chin in his hand and guided your mouth to his. Like his hands, his lips were warm. His warmth spread across your mouth and down into your chest where your heart was doing backflips. Blindly, you pawed at his arms, his jacket, trying to find something sturdy to hold onto to remind you that this was absolutely real. Billy’s hand trailed from your chin, across your jaw, and around the nape of your neck where his fingers finally curled into your hair.

A sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan escaped you and Billy swallowed it. Gently and hesitantly, you gave him a little nip on his bottom lip. His lips parted just slightly, his breath hitting your teeth, and you quickly ran your tongue along his skin. He smiled, gripped your hair a little tighter, and then pulled back.

This time when he said your name, it was sweet, reverent. “You’re certainly full of surprises,” he murmured.

You smiled breathlessly. “What can I say? I have no excuse.”

“Thank you,” he said again. “For telling me, for tonight-”

“The night’s not over yet.”

Billy smirked. “No. No, it’s not.”

[biwenqing]

So this is for the day three prompt: Social Media AU for Spring Sleuthing over at @tsomdevents! I wrote this fic a while ago, and it fits perfectly for this. But I realized it was going to be more than one chapter. I will continue it once the prompt week is over!

teen | pre-relationship | WIP | ao3 link | formatted as tweets | wc:1767

WZ @theroommatedilema

i made this secret account to live tweet my two oblivious roommates having a quarantine romance. or not. they are idiots. follow to find out will they/won’t they.

he/him | Joined March 2020

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 27 we are starting week 2 of quarantine and i realized i needed to document this. my two roommates who have been dancing around each other since before shit hit the fan are driving me crazy and if i have to watch this the world has to as well.

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 27 we need to give them code names because, while i don't think either of them will find this account, best not to tempt fate. so we have 'hot chef' and 'smart aleck'.

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 27 all that out of the way, we can now get to the live tweet. hot chef was doing his laundry so he was walking around the apartment shirtless. smart aleck walked into a wall, not once, not twice, but three times. hot chef didn't help this when he put on an apron

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 28 smart aleck started the day by almost burning down our kitchen trying to make breakfast to impress hot chef. luckily i was awake and stopped things before there was a grease fire, before making breakfast myself. they both seemed to like it.

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 29 hot chef thinks we should try and exercise, but i think it is cold and slippery out, so if he expects me to join him on his morning runs, he is wrong. smart aleck did make an attempt and i got to watch him wipe out from the window. lucky for him hot chef caught him. yea i know

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 29 follow up to wipe out: hot chef helped smart aleck back into the house and then took care of him, before then still going on his run. smart aleck pouted next to me on the couch, watching out the window for when he came back like a puppy.

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 30 smart aleck has decided he needs to clean and organize the whole apartment. i think he just doesn't want to do his real job. this has led to an argument with hot chef because smart aleck has taken everything out of the kitchen cabinets and messed with his books.

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 30 as a household, we have a pretty solid 'don't touch my stuff' understanding, but that apparently goes all out the window during a pandemic. hot chef keeps all his cooking tools and supplies in a special order that makes sense only to him and i leave it be

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 30 but smart aleck wants to "help" and didnt ask if anyone wanted help so here we are. don't worry, this account isn't in vain, i can confirm that their argument is more bickering and that bickering is the stereotype of an "old married couple"

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 30 SA: but you do so much, i wanted to help! HC: if i need help, i'd ask for it SA: *arms crossed* would you? give an example of when you have asked for help. HC: ....i haven't needed help SA: bullshit! remember when you got the flu last year and didn't tell us?

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 30 SA: you practically passed out before you let WZ and i take you to see a doctor! and then you still argued about us making sure you got the food and fluids and everything you needed so you didn't die! HC: ...i didn't want either of you to get sick

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 30 SA: oh yes so ignoring the issue really helped? it’s better that you almost died? in case you didn’t already notice, smart aleck is always dramatic.

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 30 for those wondering, smart aleck is not wrong here. this is exactly how events occurred. it was only a few months after I moved in with them. for the fight i think smart aleck somehow won this round. tune in tomorrow for what happens next!

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 4 no updates because they have been pretending to ignore each other and focused on work. hot chef in particular. smart aleck claims it is because hot chef isn’t used to being cared about. he told me this in a deliberate stage whisper.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 4 i think it is important to note that hot chef did still make dinner each night to share... he just went back to his room after.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 5 i got a question asking what we all do for work. that’s classified. and mostly unrelated. though it is how we met in a very odd course of events.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 5 that was not an invitation to send me more questions. i know you are all nosy, or else why would you be following this account. but we have established this account must go unnoticed.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 5 fine. general ages = smart aleck is in his 20s. hot chef is in his 30s. and because you for some reason all want to know: i am also in my 20s.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 5 pets = yes one. smart aleck has a pet cat named goat he inherited from a past roommate. goat the cat tries to eat anything and everything, thus the name. she particularly likes to eat house plants. she likes smart aleck the least, hot chef the most. i hold a pretty solid 2nd place.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 6 update: they made up. a package arrived today and it was apparently a pan to replace one smart aleck had destroyed. hot chef made smart aleck’s favorite dinner. SA talked the whole way through to meal, and HC looked smitten. so we’re back to normal.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 10 where do we rank the level of domestic where one person brushes their teeth/gets ready for the day while the other is in the shower? bonus points for some mild discussion and/or bickering.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 11 smart aleck has a new scheme. he is trying to persuade hot chef to teach him to cook. so far HC has held firm. we mark day one of this new standoff.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 12 i’ve been asked a few times why i don’t just use initials of smart aleck and hot chef’s names. it’s all part of keeping this hidden. i have also chosen nicknames that i don’t think they would think i’d use for them.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 12 smart aleck is the type to figure this out if i’m not careful. he’s both too clever and too dumb for his own good. which is part of the reason i must document all of this, so i can shove it in his face later.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 12 we are also on day two of cooking teaching standoff. i think some of you rightly assume SA is imagining hot chef standing behind him and idk helping him cut vegetables

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 13 standoff continues. i made dinner to see if that would throw the balance off. no change yet

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 14 resolution! hot chef did give in, on the condition that he teaches both of us. i didn’t manage to escape because smart aleck seemed to decide this was the only way. don’t know how this fits into whatever romantic daydreams he had.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 14 i see those comments that this might give me a chance to put them together. but i think it is more fun to not help them at all. they need to do this on their own

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 15 to do such teaching, a grocery shopping mission is needed. because the world is... well. i suggested just they go together so fine. maybe i will try and assist.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 15 level of domestic of sneaking things you know your “just friends roommate” loves but won’t buy for themselves in the cart without them knowing?

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 15 you ask how i know that and it is of course because smart aleck, so proud of himself, announced it as soon as he reentered the apartment. goat the cat tried to get into the bags to eat raw fish while this occurred.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 16 first cooking lesson, some simple stir fry. i already can cook this so i get to just perch at the counter and watch. vote on the poll below how you think this will turn out

[hands brushing softly] [sparks, and not the sexy kind] [food hopefully?]

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 16 everyone who voted for fire won. the neighbors are quite upset. and not even goat the cat will eat the final product. i ordered take out and a fresh fire extinguisher while they dealt with the mild fire and smoke detector.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 17 smart aleck is pouting so there will be no cooking lessons today. the good news (for his employer) is he seems to actually be focusing on doing his job.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 20 hot chef actually asked smart aleck if he wanted to try cooking again. very interesting. this has mostly been coming from SA’s side, so i would call this positive movement.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 20 SA has completely perked up and agreed.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 20 oh apparently the plan is SA will watch and i get the place as the student in the kitchen. this is probably safer for everyone

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 21 for those asking what happen: dinner was made with no issue. I was in charge of the main dish and that left HC to work on side dishes. SA even helped wash and chop some vegetables. goat took some chicken right off SA’s plate and ran away with it growling.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 21 i take that to mean the cat approves of my cooking. but she also tried to steal things from the trash, so that isn’t much of an endorsement.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 22 SA is avoiding work and trying to clean again. he actually asked if he could move stuff around. growth.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 25 hot chef spotted leaving smart aleck’s room this morning?

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 25 false alarm, he was just looking for the cat.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 30 final report for this month: progress made in communication. new together activity established. the apartment has not burned down. a baby step closer, yet still so far away from them figuring this out...

[chouhatsumimi]

would you be willing to make a post all about your job interpreting at some point? I’ve been really interested to learn more since I still don’t know if I want to consider interpreting as a future career (I’ve only “professionally” interpreted once)

Hey!! So very sorry about the... six month delay ><  I guess I wasn’t really sure where to start, and it feels like it’s been changing a lot. Hopefully this can give you some information!  My current full-time job is in-house at a factory that makes car parts using powdered metal technology, so my job title is "Translator/Expat Support", but I do a lot of different stuff- all at the same factory, though. Right now my daily schedule goes more or less: 8:00-8:45 Attend morning production meeting and interpret into Japanese or take minutes in Japanese 8:45-10:00 Send out minutes, move items around in the purchasing department because they're busy/have some long-term absences 10:00-12:00 and 1:00-3:30 Data entry of labor hours to help out Accounting;/COVID-19 audit of safety measures;/organize and manage information for internal kaizen (improvement) tours for management;/prepare for monthly parent company sales meeting;/translate any documents that are currently being requested of me (Typically meeting materials for when the execs meet with management on the Japan side and materials from the Japan side that they want to share with local [American] staff). 3:30-4:00 Attend afternoon production meeting and interpret into Japanese or take minutes in Japanese 4:00-5:00 Receive in items to help out the purchasing department On Wednesdays I also spend the morning interpreting for the executive committee meeting, since our chairperson is one of our expats. 

I was initially hired to help out one expat who really couldn't speak English at all, so I was a lot more interpretation/translation focused then- I basically helped him out all day. Now all the expats currently working at the plant can more or less hold their own in English, so I do some translation when it's requested, and most of my interpreting is into Japanese, and they've found stuff for me to do that fills up the rest of my time. 

When I do interpret, it's usually in person, but sometimes that includes people attending via conference call. When my plant was shut down from March-May I did a lot of interpreting by text: they held the executive meeting on conference call, and I typed the minutes/interpreted by text into the chat box. I don't think that's a typical workflow, but it worked for the time being. Most of my translation I can do at my desk at work, but it is nice that I have the three expats there that I can ask when I don't understand/want to check parts of what I'm translating. Occasionally the chairperson stops by my desk and basically dictates an email in Japanese and I type it up in English- that usually goes faster than if I were to focus on translating all the nuances of an email he's already typed up. 

As for interpreting simultaneously vs. consecutively— Japanese verbs come at the end of the sentence, and it's often hard to know where the sentence is going until it's finished when interpreting J->E, so when I was mostly helping out the one expat, we did a lot more one-on-one conversations, and I did a lot more consecutive interpreting. Now that I'm primarily interpreting large group meetings into Japanese, I pretty much do simultaneous because it wouldn't make sense to stop the meeting every sentence for me to finish speaking. Most of what I interpret isn't instantly mission-critical, so the person I'm interpreting for can always find the person speaking and we can ask questions afterwards if there was something I missed saying that he wants to know more about. I think that mostly sums up my full-time job. As for the pay, I make a lot more than I expected to make, but I think that comes with some specific circumstances such as how I was recruited for the job- I think I’ve mentioned that some in previous posts. Try searching my tags for powdered metal.

I also freelance on the side, because I'm really more interested in entertainment translation and/or working for myself someday. I'm trying to figure out a better balance for freelancing, because it really eats up my "off-work" time if I'm not careful. Over the years I've gotten work through online sites that offer piecework translation jobs at extremely low pay rates, and nowadays more through translation agencies that pay a little better, but sometimes want me to do more work than I really should be doing while also having a full-time job. I'll get back to you on that one once I figure out if there's a good way to balance full-time work and trying to break into sustainable freelancing, haha. As for rates, if you can find someone in your language pair, they can probably give you a good idea of what rates are reasonable/livable, and what rates you'll be asked for/are insanely low. In Japanese, STAY AWAY from anything lower than ¥2/Japanese character. ¥6-8/char. is reasonable. You can get more than that if you’re established in your field/working in a specialized topic. For manga, I’ve heard that $5/page should be standard. You will gets offers of work for far less than that and you can decide if it’s in your and other’s best interests to work for those rates.

A few more pieces of advice for getting into translation- some really helpful things to do would be to find translation-focused professional organizations for your language that hold events and have lists of professionals for customers looking for translators, etc. With Japanese-English, I specifically recommend JAT (Japan Association of Translators). The other thing I'd recommend is looking for translation contests held by translation-focused organizations or publishers. JAT has one ongoing, due at on October 31st! Additionally, at least for Japanese, there's a pretty good community of translators on Twitter, so that might also be a good place to look for information or potential job information. P.S.  I majored in Education and Spanish and minored in Japanese, so working in car part manufacturing is way out of my league, but I've been managing somehow and learning a lot! (I did live in Japan teaching English for four years after graduating from college, so that's where I developed most of my language ability.) I think my current company really wanted someone local since we're way out in the middle of nowhere, so that helped get me in the door. I'm the only translator/interpreter at my company, and the first one they hired. Others of our sister factories under the same parent company sometimes have interpreters/translators as well, but I haven't gotten the opportunity to meet them. In conclusion, this has been the haphazard and long-awaited summary of what I do at work, so I hope that gives you a little bit of an idea! Please (and this goes for everyone reading this) feel free to reach out to me with more questions. I unfortunately can’t promise I’ll get back to you in a reasonable time frame, but I will do my best!

[rainafoxfire]

Sannion has suggested that many people are in need of some direction as to starting or maintaining a devotional practice. I am perhaps not the best guide in that my own practice is rather personalized and idiosyncratic. However, I thought I would give some examples of what I do nonetheless, in case it helps anyone. (Though please, please don’t just copy my examples unless they are truly directly relevant to your own practice and spiritual relationships – rather, use this as a way to spark ideas for the types of things you might do yourself. Devotional practice should be personal, and arise from your own understanding of and history with your deities.) Some folks recently have described a single day in their practice, but each day is too different for me to do it that way. I don’t have many daily practices other than following certain taboos, a few simple things I always wear or do as I go about my day, that sort of thing. More and more, I have been led to a free-flowing sort of approach that tunes in and responds to the forces around me, rather than executing a pre-planned set of actions. This is actually trickier to do well, a balancing act. Ideally, it should lead to more devotional practice and magic, not less. I think I am only ready for this now because I spent so many years building a foundation. One thing that helps me keep the balance is my schedule of holy days. Each month, certain days (calculated by the lunar calendar) are set aside to focus on certain gods or spirits. Right now, I have eight of these, but I’m always in the process of refining it. This ensures that I never go too long without giving Someone their due. It also keeps a sort of rhythm to my spiritual life, going through the cycle over and over. Added to this are festival days (which involve more elaborate and specific rituals and activities), which are more unevenly scattered across the year. Of course, even on a day with no special focus, I might end up doing major ritual or trancework. But here are some of the smaller things I do more often to maintain and deepen my devotional relationships. Prayer Beads – I have a set of prayer beads I made about 5-6 years ago, where each god or spirit or group of spirits in my “personal pantheon” is represented by a different, symbolic bead (amber for Apollon, lava rock for chthonic Trophonios, etc.). I usually take these out on my walk to work in the mornings. I do not have set prayers. Often I simply pause at each bead and hail the entity, and perhaps talk to Them extemporaneously for a bit. Sometimes I ask for help with something, give thanks, etc. Sometimes I go through and with each one mention a certain type of thing sacred to Them, or recall the last devotional act I did for Them, or the next I plan to do, or something of that sort – almost a game, meant to keep my mind on these things. I find this practice nicely centers me in my web of divine relationships. Clothing, Jewelry & Hair – On holy days, I always pay attention to what I wear, choosing the colors associated with that deity, and anything else that seems appropriate. No matter what day, there are certain colors and fabrics that are off-limits to me, and everything I wear must align with the aesthetics of my spirits (which have slowly become my own for the most part, but definitely didn’t start out that way). Every day, I braid my hair in some way – this began several years ago as a temporary devotional practice for one of my spirits, just something to be noticeable and remind me of him each day, but then I felt strongly that I should keep doing it, and I think of the braids as intertwining myself with my gods and spirits. It is also significant to choose to make that more important than any personal preferences as to how I wear my hair. I also choose my jewelry carefully – every single piece I own has meaning, usually directly connected to a specific entity, and which pieces I wear each day are my statement of intent. No matter what else, if I go outside the house I am wearing a ring for my Husband and one for Dionysos, and when I am in my home “alone” I wear a second ring for my Husband. I wear a small piece of jewelry when I go to bed each night to connect with my dream-spirit. I also have stretched ears, which I did on request from my spirits to symbolically open my hearing to Their voices, and only wear a few simple sets of plugs, having given up pretty earrings as a sacrifice. (I also have nearly 30 devotional tattoos which state my allegiances in a permanent manner on my skin, but while I have them every day, obtaining one is obviously a more special occasion.) Images and Playlists – I keep a large folder of images that I find beautiful or powerful on my computer. I have them sorted into various folders, including ones for most of my gods and spirits. My usual screensaver is a random slideshow of all these images (since my computer is on for hours each day usually, it’s a nice way to be reminded of Them, and also useful occasionally for divination), but on holy days I set it to just the folder of that specific entity. Likewise, I keep playlists of music for each of Them and play them on Their holy days or when doing any sort of ritual for Them. I revise both of these periodically, as my relationships and understandings of Them change over time. Shrines – I have shrines for all of my gods and spirits in my house, but some get a lot more use than others. Most are just placeholders of sorts, making a space in my home for Them and an appropriate place to leave offerings if necessary, but not a focus of worship, as a lot of my worship is done outdoors. The shrines for my Husband and Dionysos however have cushions in front of them and I often sit in front of the “activated” shrine (when the candles and incense are lit) and pray and commune with Them. All my shrines developed organically over many years – the items on them tend to have deep significance and I periodically review them to make sure they still represent my current view of Them. I try to personalize anything mass manufactured (for example, by painting common statuary), and mostly focus on unique items that have a history with us, even though those are usually much less spectacular (for instance, the small lump of white marble I found on the shores of Naxos on Dionysos’ shrine, or the bowl of unusual coins I have slowly accumulated for Hermes, or the special ritual pipe for my Husband made from a bone of His sacred animal). On holy days, I light up the appropriate shrine while I am home. But I also often do this whenever I’m feeling Their presence, or want to invite Their presence. Especially at night in a darkened house, the glow of the shrine draws all focus there. Physical Offerings – I make both traditional and personal offerings to the gods regularly. At the very least, I do this on Their holy days, but with my core group I do it more often. These might include things like: alcohol (paying attention to both the type and even the picture on the label), flowers, incense, coins, stones, food, drink, etc. Each one has a wide variety of sacred symbolism to draw on. So I might pour out Stone IPA beer for Hermes, or leave figs on Dionysos’ shrine, or lay out a piece of honeycomb for the nymphs in some numinous spot outdoors. Aside from the shrines, repositories for my offerings might include bits of wild nature throughout the city, special trees or stones, the creek, or I might leave something on the street or at a crossroads, especially if it is for Hermes or might double as a glamourbomb for someone. Activities – On holy days, and sometimes on other days that feel imbued with the presence of a certain god or spirit, I try to tailor every activity to Them – what book I read, what movie I watch, even what errands I do. I might save a shopping trip for Hermes’ day, or go out dancing on Dionysos’ day. I’ll start reading a book about sleep on the day for my dream-spirit, or start an art project on the day for my collective spirits who are closely tied to my artwork. I clean the house on the last couple days of the lunar month, in accordance with the practice of taking out the sweepings on Hekate’s deipnon. Miscellaneous – I say a special prayer to Dionysos each time I consume any kind of intoxicant. On the full moon, I smudge all the animal spirits who live in my house in the form of pelts, taxidermy and bones. I only smoke cigarettes for ritualistic purposes in very precise circumstances, as per the taboo laid down by my spirits (or else I get rather ill). On certain holy days, I do not eat meat, due to Their wishes. On Apollon’s day, I have a special set of taboos and actions due to the oracular work. Almost all of my non-fiction reading is religious in nature, either overtly or somehow related to one of Their interests.  I am constantly open to receiving any omens or communications They might send me as I go about my day; I pay attention to things I see when I’m thinking of Them especially. I do divination when I need to know what They want or am not sure I’m receiving a message properly (and I find choosing the method of divination to be important in itself – runes for Odin of course, a fairytale Tarot deck for my spirits, a Greek mythology deck for my primary deities, etc.). Hopefully that’s enough to paint a general picture of my approach to devotional practice. I would very much like to see more people writing about what they do.

Dver, author of https://forestdoor.wordpress.com/

[theguardiangabriel]

Brightwood Challenge 02

1: How high is your libido? When I have someone in my life, it is generally higher. 

2: Rough sex or soft sex? I like an emotional connection, so more soft over rough sex.  

3: Do you have any unusual kinks/fetishes? No.  I don’t think so.  

4: Weirdest place you’ve had sex? Uh???  

5: Favourite sex position? The table top or some way like that.

6: Do you like to be dominant or submissive? I’m probably more submissive.  

7: Have you ever had any one night stands? No.  I’m pansexual, so that’s not really on my radar.

8: Sex on the bed, couch or the floor? Bed or couch.

9: Have you ever had sex in a public place? No, but I wouldn’t say no necessarily.

10: Have you ever been caught masturbating? No, I don’t think so.  

11: What does your favorite sexy underwear look like? I... ah... black boxer briefs?

12: How often do you have sex? Not that often usually.

13: Is there anybody right now you’d like to have sex with? Yeah, probably.

14: Do you prefer giving or receiving oral sex? Both are good.

15: Most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you during sex?  I can’t think of anything.  

16: A song you’d listen to during hard/rough/kinky sex? Fallin’ (Adrenaline)- Why Don’t We

17: A song you’d listen to during soft/slow/passionate sex? Holy - Justin Bieber ft. Chance the Rapper.

18: Are you into dressing up for sex? Sure.

19: Would you prefer sex in the bath or sex in the shower? Bath.

20: If you could have sex with anyone right now, who would it be? Ahhhh... I don’t know.  It would have to be someone I know and have a connection with.  Not sure I really have that kind of connection with anyone at the moment.​

21: Have you ever had a threesome? If not, would you? No.  If the connections were there, sure.

22: Do you/would you use sex toys? Yes, and yes. 

23: Have you ever sent someone a dirty text/picture? No.

24: Would you have sex with your best friend? This has happened to me and my best friend since we attracted to each other that way and had that connection I need. 

25: Is there anything you do after sex? (for example, smoke, eat, drink)? Snuggle and sleep.

26: Something that will never fail to get you horny? Connecting with me.  Making me feel like you really know me, really care about me.  

27: Early morning sex or late night sex? Late at night. Darkness and shadows.  

28: Favourite body part on the opposite sex? Hips.

29: Favourite body part on the same sex? Shoulders.

30: Something that you have hidden in your room that you don’t want anyone to find? I don’t think I have anything hidden in my room.

31: Weirdest sexual act some has performed [or tried to perform] on/with you?  I can’t think of anything.

32: Have you ever tasted yourself? [If no, would you?] [If yes, what did you think?] No.  I guess?

33: Is it ever okay to not use a condom? If you’re still being safe, have considered all outcomes and both partners agree on it, sure, why not?

34: A food that you would like to use during a sexual experience? Ice cream.

35: Worst possible time to get horny? Around other people I guess?

36: Do you like it when your sexual partner moans? Yes, definitely.  

37: What is the most amount of times you’ve ever orgasmed in a day?  Like twice?  But that was because there was a lot, a lot, of teasing and edging.  

38: Best sexual complement you ever got: I don’t think I have.

39: Favorite foreplay activities: Kissing, teasing, flirting, touching.

40: What do you wear to bed? Boxers and sometimes a shirt.

41: What is your biggest turn off? A big age gap.

42: Do you have any nude/masturbating pictures/video of yourself? Pictures, yes.  That is my thing.

43: Have you ever/when was the last time you had sex outside?  No.  But I’d consider it.

44: Have/would you ever have sex in public? No, but I think I might like it.  Especially if it would please my partner.

45: Have/would you ever had a threesome? No, but maybe if I was connected to both partners.

46: What is one random object you’ve used to masturbate? Um I don’t know?

47: What is your favorite type of porn? Nothing too graphic.

48: Do you like oral sex? (why/why not) Yes. It’s good foreplay.

49: How do you feel about tattoos on someone you are interested in? Absolutely.   I’d want to photograph them all.

50: How would you feel about taking someones virginity? That can be a big deal. 

51: Is there any food you would NOT recommend using during a sexual encounter? Anything spicey.

52: Would you rather be a pornstar or a prostitute? Neither. 

53: Do you watch porn? Sometimes.

54: Have you ever been called a freak? Why? No, not that I know.

55: Do you feel comfortable going “commando”? Yeah.

56: Would you have a problem with going down on someone if they hadn’t shaved their pubic hair? I don’t think I do.  

57: If you could give yourself head, would you? Interesting thought.  Am I that flexible?  Or are there multiple me’s?

58: Booty or Boobs?  Both.

59: Have you ever cheated on someone? (Why?) No. I couldn’t.  

60: What is your dirtiest sexual fantasy? Being comfortable enough with someone to let them just... use me.   

61: have you ever watched someone masturbate? Yes.

62: has anyone ever watched you masturbate? Yes.

63. Have you ever had an erection and someone noticed? Yes, I think.  But they were kind enough not to make a big deal about it.  

64. What is your method of masturbation? Usually just my hand.  I’m a simple guy.

65. What is your bra/penis size? Hopefully the nicer side of average.

66. What is the strangest thing you have ever put up your vagina/anus?  What?  No.

67. When was the last time you masturbated? This morning.  

68. When was the last time you had sex? Uh, what year is it again?!?! LOL

69. When was the last time you watched porn? NYE.  

70. Have you ever bought a sex toy? If so, which one did you buy last? First sex toy? If not, which one do you plan on buying when you do? Yes.  Plugs were most recent, a dildo was first.  

71. Circumcised? Yes.

72. Which not-genital part of your body do you like being touched? My hands. 

73. Which genital part of your body do you like being touched?  My butt.

74. Are you able to achieve orgasm just through breast stimulation? No, but any kind of touch is usually helpful.

75. Have you anonymously sent a sexual ask to someone? Yes.

76. When was the last time you have had a wet dream? Don’t remember.

77. Which wet dream was your favorite? It’s been too long. 

78. Is there a friend you would willingly have sex with? Probably.

79. Is there a celebrity/character you would willingly have sex with? Probably not.

80. Least favorite sexual position? Doggie, or spoon.  

81. Do you like being called a slut or whore in bed? Not really.

82. Are you into any BDSM? A little, yes, I think.

83. Have you ever wanted to have sex with someone but knew you couldnt for any reason? Why? Yes.  Despite what felt like a connection on my part, they weren’t exactly available to me.  

84. Do you like dirty talk? Yes.

85. Are you loud or quiet during sex? Masturbation? Quiet.

86. Have you ever been interrupted during sex or masturbation? Who/what? No.  Call me lucky.

87. What kind of porn do you like to watch? I don’t really enjoy it all that much.  Although I once stumbled across one once, with a girl that reminded me of a girl I was kind of developing a thing for, and it was... interesting.  

88. Have you ever confessed to someone that you got an erection over them? What about masturbated to them?  No.  Should I?

89. Have you ever masturbated because your sexual partner wasn’t there when you needed them? Yes.  

90. Have you ever had a one night stand? Do you still keep in contact with them? No.  

91. Have you ever had a friends with benefits? Are they still beneficial? No, not really.

92. Any kinks you’ve always wanted to try but haven’t?  There are some yes.  I’m not the most experienced, but that’s okay.

93. How should someone who is interested in sleeping with you approach the topic? Let me know you’re interested and try to get to know me, not just to sleep with me.

94. What are your absolute no-nos in bed? Degrading talk and bathroom kinks.

95. How do you feel about quickies? Sure.  

96. Have you ever tried roleplay in bed? Would you? No, and yes.

97. Describe the best orgasm you’ve ever had. What were you doing? Alone or with someone else? What made it so good? Alone.  I knew just what to do to keep bringing myself just to the brink over and over and over again, while I thought about someone I was interested in, imagining it was them who was keeping me on edge.  Praising me for how well I was doing.  And promising me an amazing orgasm.  

98. Have you ever filmed yourself while masturbating or having sex? No.

99. Lights on or lights off? Either.  

100. What would you like to do more of in bed? Get more experience before I stumble upon my bond.  I don’t want to be a complete mess when that happens.

[maxdark158]

This is chapter two of my fic based on @ozmav ‘s Damian Wayne x Marinette Dupain-Cheng au that I LOVE, please check them out.

Angel in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Ao3

Demon in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Ao3

Fanart for AiG: Riddler ~ Joker thank you @thegreysman

Please tag me in any fanart you draw for this guys ^^

oooOOOooo

“Marinette, seriously?” The annoyed voice of Marinette’s once-best-friend Alya Cesaire was grating to her now. “You need to stop running away just for attention, it won’t work.”

It had been a long day for Marinette. It started off well, even after being forgotten by her class, because she got to hang out with Damian. But The Riddler kind of spoiled that. After her talk with the police, Damien waited with her for a teacher to pick her up from the station. They parted when her teacher arrived, Marinette promising to text him when she got to her hotel room.

The teacher that picked her up was Professor Mendeleiev. While the science teacher’s strictness had unnerved Marinette for years, lately she had begun wishing she was in her class instead of Ms. Bustier’s. Ms. Bustier’s tactics of being a better example for a bully were starting to wear on her. Professor Mendeleiev wasn’t perfect, but Marinette would have taken being in her class over being in Ms. Bustier’s now.

When the teacher asked why Marinette had been away from the group in the first place, Marinette told her that she had been forgotten by Ms. Bustier and her class. Professor Mendeleiev went silent after that.

The rest of the ride was silent too.

It was silent until Professor Mendeleiev dropped her off at her room where Alya was waiting to rip into her about being attention-seeking and rude.

“Hello?” she sounded angry now. “Are you even listening to me? Do you think if you ignore us we’ll believe you were ever nice again? Lila told us the truth about who you are, you-”

“Alya!” her teacher snapped. “Your classmate was caught in a villain attack today. Leave her alone.”

Alya gaped. “But”

“That was not a request,” Professor Mendeleiev growled. “Do you think you can escape my detentions because we are on vacation?”

Alya squeaked and ran off to her room.

Marinette blinked, not quite sure what just happened. Relief was the cool feeling applied to a headache, stopping the pain.

“Thank you,” she mumbled. Professor Mendeleiev nodded and stalked off, mumbling something about having a long overdue talk with ‘Caline’.

Alya must have gone back to her hotel room, as Marinette didn’t encounter her or anyone else on her way back to her room.

The relief hit again, but the hint of sadness was like mint in her mouth and wetness on her cheek, despite her not actually crying.

It was hard to remember that Alya used to be her best friend. It got harder every time Alya got after her for bullying or lying or anything else that she didn’t actually do. Marinette almost wishes they hadn’t ever become friends, the betrayal would have hurt less.

It seems some wounds take years to heal.

Marinette arrived at her room and unlocked the door with her room key. She entered and immediately flopped on her bed.

“Marinette, are you alright?” she heard Tikki ask.

“I’m just tired,” she mumbled. “I’m more used to akumatized villains, not insane people with riddle obsessions.”

She felt Tikki brush aside some of her hair. “I’m just glad you’re alright. You scared me for a moment, Marinette. I don’t know what I would have done if I lost you.”

Marinette smiled. “Thanks, Tikki.”

“It’s simply the truth! Also, didn’t you tell that boy you would text him?”

Her eyes widened. Marinette rolled over and got her phone out of her purse. “Thanks for reminding me!”

Tikki giggled out a, “no problem,” and rested on Marinette’s stomach.

Angel: I’m at the hotel now.

Damian: That’s good Damian: Did you get in trouble?

Marinette smiled to herself. It felt nice, being worried about… Even if she didn’t want him to worry. But the fact that he cared felt like a warm hug.

Angel: Professor Mendeleiev must’ve been tired or something. Angel: She didn’t leacture

She frowned. That had to be wrong.

Angel: Lecture?

Damian: *lecture

Marinette rolled her eyes. In the two days she had known Damian, she knew he was a stickler for grammar. Though he wasn’t harsh about his corrections, as he knew English wasn’t her first language, it was a tad annoying. Marinette was much better at speaking and reading in English than she was at spelling.

Angel: Quiet, English is hard

Damian: Understandable. Damian: In my original question I meant any of your classmates btw

Angel: btw? Angel: Oh by the way

Damian: yeah

Angel: I’m good at text slang in French, okay

Damian: I don’t doubt you

She rolled her eyes and smiled. Annoying, but the banter was nice. It wasn’t like with Chat Noir when he was trying to flirt with her.

Angel: Anyway Alya tried to bother me but I’m good now Angel: Professor Mendeleiev told her off for bothering me after my ‘traumatic’ encounter with a Gotham villain

Damian: Speaking of, are you SURE you’re alright Angel

Ooh, capital letters. He must be really worried. Guilt rested on her shoulders again on that day.

Angel: I’m fine Angel: I’ve survived akuma for three years, I’m not about to let some riddle fanatic with terrible clothing choices ruin my day

Damian: His clothes are that bad?

Good, subject change. Maybe she can get him to stop worrying.

Angel: Too much green, for one Angel: Green shouldn’t be used in large portions when it’s that bright of a shade Angel: Also the cloth itself was cheap, but the kind of cheap meant to look expensive if you don’t know cloth good

Damian: *well

Marinette smiled. She hoped her little intentional mistake would make him stop worrying.

Angel: Whatever Angel: Also his hat didn’t match the type of suit he was wearing Angel: If he wants to go old fashioned he should at least match the time period Angel: Longer coat, more layers Angel: He is an atrocity

Damian: he is

Angel: If I had time to cry then my tears would had been blood

Damian: *have

“Seriously,” she grumbled to herself. The guilt had long since lifted but Damian’s need for correct grammar was going to drive her mad.

Angel: istg

Damian: It appears you’re learning

Angel: Yepp

Damian: Also the Gotham news posted an article online about you Damian: “Unnamed Teenager From France Holds off The Riddler Until Batman Arrives!”

Angel: Wait what? Angel: But we both held him off?

Damian: I was kind of useless, you did most of the work Damian: I left shortly after you solved his riddle because the Robins had arrived

Marinette breathed a sigh of relief. She had been scrolling through the article Damian had mentioned, realizing that it did not have any mention of her throat punching The Riddler. It did say she took him down with physical force, but it was in self-defense and she was okay.

She just didn’t want Damian to find out she punched someone in the throat. It would make him think she was violent and he’d hate her forever and never talk to her again and she’d loose the only friend she’s made in the last three years and-

Her phone, which had fallen asleep, buzzed again.

Damian: You there?

Marinette sighed, mentally reining her anxieties in.

Angel: Yeah. I was just reading the article Angel: The Riddler was bad at hand to hand combat. It was easy to take him down with the practice I have from Paris

Damian: I bet. Damian: It’s getting late, Angel. We should go to bed. Damian: Goodnight

Angel: Goodnight Angel: Also I’ll find a chat name for you soon, promise

Damian: lol okay

Marinette smiled and put her phone away. Hopefully, she would get to spend more time with him tomorrow.

This was day three of their trip to Gotham. The entire trip lasted nine days. She wanted to make the most of her trip by spending time with her friend until she had to leave.

While the thought brought a brief sadness, she put it out of her mind and continued to get ready for bed.

oooOOOooo

Marinette managed to get up on time this morning.

Meaning, she woke up from a nightmare at around four am and couldn’t go back to sleep after that because she started fully sketching out some of her outfit ideas she had yesterday. She even made a few based off the Gotham heroes, coloring those ones in.

Despite all the designing she finished, Marinette was still the first one ready and in the lobby where the class is supposed to meet every morning.

Marinette was wearing her messier clothes today. After yesterday where she confronted The Riddler in leggings, she decided to stick to pants today too. She loved the dress she brought but it would not work if she managed to confront another villain.

Besides, the dress code was more lenient today. Marinette had on a white crop top with her signature flower pattern and dark gray overalls on. She had her hair in a French braid so it was out of her face. Her tennis shoes were the same pink as the flowers and as always, she had her purse for Tikki.

When the teachers came down to wait for the class, they saw Marinette there. Professor Mendeleiev gave her a nod, to which Marinette smiled. Ms. Bustier looked conflicted for a moment before ultimately deciding to sit down away from both her and Professor Mendeleiev.

The class began to filter in. Marinette made sure to stay out of sight from everyone but the teachers. They grouped together, talking about mindless things. Mostly about what they’d do with their afternoon. Today they were going to the Gotham City Heroes and Villains Museum in the morning, then after lunch the rest of the day was free until 5:30 pm.

Lila arrived last. Marinette knew that she likely did it so everyone noticed her entrance. She also realized that Lila arrived a few minutes before everyone had to get on the busses, so people had time to talk to and about her.

The designer simply tuned the liar out. She didn’t care anymore.

Well, she didn’t until she heard a certain name.

“Damian is such a sweetheart,” Marinette glanced up from her phone. “We might get back together again soon, I’m not sure though. I hope so.”

“I forgot that you’re on and off,” she heard someone else say, though who didn’t matter.

“Did you say Damian?” Marinette asked before she thought out the action. Her voice was loud enough that suddenly everyone was staring at her as if they forgot she was there in the first place.

They likely had.

“Uh, yeah,” Alya scoffed. “Lila and Damian Wayne are an on and off thing. You’d know that if you weren’t skipping the field trip for attention.”

“Alya, it’s alright,” Lila sighed. “We keep it out of the tabloids and Marinette doesn’t like me, it’s not her fault she didn’t know.”

“That sounds like it’s her fault! Marinette just needs to get over herself!”

Marinette was tuning her classmates out. She felt like an idiot. But at the same time, he never told her. He must have had a reason for telling her.

But there was no mistaking it. The Riddler called him, “Wayne.” They met when she was trying to get into Wayne Enterprises. His first name was Damian and he knew the tour guide…

She tuned back into her classmates’ conversation.

“Anyway, Damian and I went and got ice cream last afternoon. That’s why I was gone, you see. He would have walked me back, but we would have attracted a crowd. Plus he got a little chocolate ice cream on his shirt, he’s so messy.”

Marinette closed her eyes. Rage is hot and fiery, her nails dug into her palms.

Calling Lila out does nothing.

But she couldn’t help but remember Damian telling her that chocolate ice cream was among his least favorites when they went to get ice cream yesterday.

And he isn’t messy.

oooOOOooo

Marinette found the museum interesting. It gave her some anxiety, learning about everything villains did to the city was nerve-wracking.

She wondered if there would ever be a Paris Museum for Akuma.

It also gave her some ideas. Learning about the Gotham Hero’s greatest feats and how they accomplished them was eye-opening.

She was doing this whole battling-Hawkmoth-thing wrong! Instead of a case by case akuma battle, which are much less frequent nowadays, she should partner with the police! There were cameras all over Paris and, unlike Kwami, corrupted butterflies appeared on them. Hawkmoth may only be attacking around once a month now, but he still needed to own up to the terror he reigned on Paris and the world.

Marinette felt a little stupid for not realizing all of this before, she realized as she whispered her ideas to Tikki in the bathroom. She could have ended it sooner if she thought to get investigative about her enemy.

But as interesting and terrifying as the museum was, the trip only took the morning. By lunch, her classmates were waiting for the teachers to decide who to take where, as no restaurant had enough room for all of them.

She pulled out her phone and opened her text chat with Damian.

Angel: Kill me now

Damian: What’s wrong?

Angel: We have to all get lunch as a class before I’m free Angel: I’m in the group with Liar Rossi Angel: Death would be sweatier

Marinette mumbled a curse under her breath. She meant sweeter! Stupid autocorrect.

Damian: *sweeter

Angel: Rude

Damian: Anyway Damian: You can’t die yet Damian: We still technically didn’t get ice cream

She managed to smile. Damian made her do that a lot now that she thought about…

Her phone pinged again.

Damian: Also you’re at the Gotham City Heroes and Villains Museum right?

Angel: Yes I am

Damian: I’m nearby

Marinette’s eyes widened. What?

Damian: I can pick you up for lunch

Angel: OMG really? Please do I’d really really like that

Damian: omw

She looked up, seeing that her teachers were still discussing. She walked up to them, waiting until they saw her.

Ms. Bustier did first. “Marinette! What did you need?”

“My friend invited me to eat lunch with him,” she looked at Professor Mendeleiev as she spoke, not Ms. Bustier. “May I go?”

“After what happened yesterday? I don’t thi-” Ms. Bustier was cut off by Professor Mendeleiev.

“Is this the friend you were at the station with?” she asked, voice sharp. Marinette nodded.

Professor Mendeleiev hummed, contemplating. Ms. Bustier gaped at her. “You can’t be considering allowing her to go!” she said, “Not after how mad you got at me-”

“Caline, I got mad at you for forgetting her. Allowing her to go is not the same thing,” Professor Mendeleiev glared at her, “We’re allowing you to go on your own after lunch anyway, as long as everyone has a buddy. Finding you a buddy in this class, however, is likely going to be difficult…”

She trailed off before digging into her bag. “We got trackers for this free afternoon, though we couldn’t afford them for everyone,” she brought out a black bracelet that looked plastic. “This will only give me your general location. We will still have enough for everyone else as long as they’re in pairs. If you take one, I will allow you to go to lunch and such with your friend.”

Ms. Bustier’s brows furrowed. “You’re giving her special treatment? But-”

“Caline, you forgot her twice,” Professor Mendeleiev sounded patient, as if she were an adult talking to a toddler. “Marinette earned this and she will be with a friend from Gotham, something nobody else in this class truly has besides her.”

“This is my class,” Ms. Bustier was beginning to fume. “You accompanied because two teachers were needed, but these are my students-”

“Caline,” Professor Mendeleiev sounded more annoyed. “I am allowing her to go. Since I’ve been teaching for longer and because you told me to hand out the tracking bracelets, my decision overrules yours. Your argument is pointless.”

Marinette stared as Ms. Bustier tried to find words to retaliate with and failed. She took the bracelet from Professor Mendeleiev and thanked her.

It felt nice to have someone stand up for her again.

In the corner of her eye, Marinette noticed Alya walk toward the teachers and her. She looked angry and upset, a face she nowadays wore often around Marinette.

She remembered what she thought last night, about Alya’s betrayal. How it hurt remembering the good times they shared. Marinette took a deep breath.

It still hurt. It still hurt remembering the good times they had as friends, but she had to be fair to herself. She had to remember the bad times too.

She had to remember the times Alya demanded every detail, said friends tell each other everything. She had to remember the times Alya pressured her into things she wasn’t comfortable doing. She had to remember the times Alya took her for granted, the time Alya decided she wasn’t worth as much as a liar.

She has to remember what Alya is doing to her now.

“Where is the liar going now?” Alya scoffed. “Getting permission to run away this time?”

Marinette rolled her eyes and slipped the bracelet on. She would be okay. Alya wasn’t her friend anymore, she had better ones to look out for her.

“I don’t owe you anything.”

Alya gaped.

Luckily for Marinette, Alya didn’t have time to think of a response. A car drove up, and Marinette saw Damian wave to her from the backseat. She smiled.

The door was unlocked, so she opened it and got in. She didn’t look back at her classmates faces as the driver, an aged man in a suit, drove away.

“Where would you like to eat, Angel?” Damian asked.

Marinette shrugged. “I’m not sure, I don’t know what’s here.”

Damian frowned. “Angel, you okay?”

That’s when her previous realization hit. He was Damian Wayne, son of Bruce Wayne. He was one of the celebrities Lila liked lying about the most. And he was her friend, currently best friend.

“I’m okay,” she mumbled. “I’ve got a lot on my mind right now.”

Damian looked like he wanted to press the issue, but decided against it. He told his butler to take them to a restaurant she didn’t recognize the name of while she took deep breaths. She felt Tikki press gently against her hip, trying to reassure her.

Alya was a bad friend. Marinette wanted to be a better friend to Damian. He already made her so happy! Warm fuzzies and smiled and giggles were rare in the last few years, but she experienced them all with Damian. He kept a secret from her, likely for his own reasons, and she found out what it was behind his back.

Damian deserved better than that.

“I know,” she blurted out. “I know you’re Damian Wayne. I just want you to know that doesn’t change anything. You’re still my friend, and I don’t care who your dad is and who you are.”

Damian gaped at her for a moment before shaking his head. “I’m sorry you had to find out on your own. I should have told you-”

Marinette interrupted, “you didn’t have to. You don’t owe me that.”

He looked confused. She chose to elaborate.

“As a stranger or even a friend, you don’t owe me any details about who you are. Ever,” Marinette told him. “You’re allowed to keep secrets and not tell me things you aren’t comfortable sharing. It isn’t fair of me to demand you tell me everything.”

She was going to be the friend she needed to Damian. It was the least he deserved.

Marinette pushed down any disappointment that came with the word friend, not knowing why it was there. Maybe it was left over from her classmates’ treatment of her.

Damian was staring at her. She wasn’t sure what his expression meant, but it looked… Awed?

“Thank you,” he said earnestly. “I… nobody’s ever said secrets are okay…”

Marinette shrugged. “I can’t help if I feel left out, but forcing you to tell me everything isn’t how friendship is supposed to work. If you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay.”

Damian’s smile was small, but it made Marinette feel warm. Was he the sun?

“Perhaps instead of a restaurant, I can take you both to the mansion for your lunch?” the driver said, his accent different from Marinette’s.

“You sure Alfred?” Damian asked.

She saw his nervousness. “You don’t have to if you aren’t comforta-”

“No, it’s not that,” he assured. “My brothers can be… rambunctious.”

Oh. Marinette smiled. “I can handle them if that’s the only reason you’re nervous.”

Damian thought for a moment before sighing. “Alfred, please talk us to the mansion.”

“My pleasure, Master Damian.”

[shittyfandomimagines]

Time- SM

Based off of bits and pieces of NF- “Time” ... song is a bop!

Gif creds to owner

Chord progression for a new song, that’s all you have to do tonight, Shawn. Just finish this and you’ll sleep for at least 8 hours, more than you’ve gotten in a week. — that’s all I’ve been saying to myself for a hot minute now.

I had one version of a progression, but it didn’t feel right, so for the last hour, I’ve been playing different cord combinations to feel something about this song. Nothing felt right with this night, this song, and probably this whole fucking month.

“I made you some supper if you want any, if not I’ll put it away.” Y/n’s head popped inside of the music room, my eyes drifted towards her sullen appearance. I thought I felt sleep-deprived, but she looked it.

“I’ll come down there now, I’m starving.” I saw a quick smile reach her eyes, I could tell she was worrying herself sick about me, I get so entrapped in music that I forget I’m a human with basic needs, like eating.

I followed her down the stairs, she grabbed plates out of the cabinet for us and started to assemble each one.

Baked chicken, Mac n cheese, and scalloped potatoes? A blessing.

She handed my plate over and she took hers too as we made our way to the table.

“What’s your big plan for tomorrow?” She asks while taking a bite of the potatoes. “I have to be up around 4 am, go to the studio with the team for a while, and then a press session with the radio at 1:30,” I tell her and I see some more happiness leave her body, the sullen look was back.

“That’s exciting! New song coming along well?” She even sounded uninterested in the conversation. “Kinda in a rut, I don’t hear or feel the sounds that need to encapsulate the lyrics of my new song,” I explain, even though she probably doesn’t care.

“Maybe you need to stop trying to find it and let it find you. You’ve been working so hard that you’ve burned yourself out this week. Try playing without a reason besides what your heart says instead of your head.” Well damn, maybe she does care. I don’t know why she would, all I do is work and don’t show her the right way that I love her.

“That’s true, you’ve alwa-“ I was cut off by my phone blaring Andrew’s designated ringtone, she knew it too because I could see the disappointment.

“What now?” I ask as soon as I answered, I heard Andrews grunt.

“We need you to come to the studio, we need a meeting with all of the crew about tomorrow’s session with the radio station.”

“That doesn’t make sense? We’re all meeting tomorrow beforehand!”

“I understand, but 2 of the guys won’t be able to make it tomorrow morning, but they can come tonight, so let’s just get this over with so you can go back to being grumpy at home.”

“Whatever, bye.”

I look up to see her disapproval, but she doesn’t say a word as she gets up with the plate in her hand.

“I’m sorry that I can’t finish dinner, if you put it away, I’ll eat it as soon as I get home.” I was nervous to even talk to her, I knew she was pissed; I could tell in the way her left eye was starting to twitch in the slightest way, it mostly happened when pissed or stressed... now it’s both.

“I live to serve.” She mumbles as she grabbed a few ziplock bags, I knew she was pissed, but all it did was make me angry too. I wanted to stay at home and eat a nice meal with my girl.

“I don’t know what you want me to do, I can’t say no to the team.” I snapped and she just looked up, no words left her lips but the look on her face did. It was probably telling me to shut the fuck up.

“Plus, I don’t have to stay in this house 24/7 like you do. Does it not get boring being in this house all day, every day?” I was being bitter and I just continued to dig a bigger hole.

My existence felt like word vomit, I was just spewing out hateful shit and I didn’t even know why. My heart quaked when I saw a tear fall down her cheek, just one though, and she wiped it off hastily before it had the chance to fall onto the counter.

“It does get boring since you asked. It gets boring waiting for a guy to love me, show that he has a heart. To feel like I have to be ready to pick you up at any chance because the work stress is too much, but I know damn well I won’t get any love in return. It gets boring being at the end of the fucking road with your bullshit! So please, by all means, Shawn, leave before you get bored too.” She yelled, I haven’t heard that type of voice since we had our big fight while on tour, so that alone made me anxious.

Then she called my biggest bluff in my attitude, she pointed out my work stress. The stress that had lead to so much anxiety. I felt bad that she knew I was bound to break any day, I could see it causing her just as much anxiety for my wellbeing. I cause her more pain than I ever wanted to.

“Maybe I’d be better off alone,” I said it before I even thought of the consequences of my words.

A string of 6 words and 23 letters that had no absolute truth caused such a look of disdain on her face. I saw a few more tears drop and her lip trembled slightly, I felt my heart shatter.

“I fucking hate you, please fucking go.”

I never felt such a heaviness in my heart until she said that, as I’ve always known our arguments hurt; but that literally broke me. She had so much conviction in her voice that I could tell a part of her meant it. I think?

I walk to my car, chest hurting and mentally debilitating.

——

After a pointless 2 hour meeting and side advice from Teddy, who could tell I fucked up somehow, I was ready to be home to my girl. To apologize all night and to hopefully come home to her still living there.

I walk into the big apartment, the smell of lavender and eucalyptus roaming through the halls. I smiled to myself because I knew she probably had like 4 different diffusers on.

I made my way through the halls, no hot girl in sight.

“Baby?” I call out and there still wasn’t any movement, so my anxiety automatically started filling negative thoughts in my head.

I rushed to our room, hoping to find her asleep, but I didn’t- so more panic set in. I searched everywhere with no luck, until the last spot (where I thought she would not be because we never used this room), the guest room. I chuckled to myself when I saw the eucalyptus oil beside the bedside table.

I could tell she was fucking pissed when she fell asleep, her forehead had creases in it and her face was still scowled.

“Baby, c’mon, wake up. You hate this bed and you need to sleep properly.” I shake her body slightly, she grunted lowly before I started to lift her. She was in my arms and halfway down the hall before she actually woke up, her body jumping with anxiety.

“What the fuck!” She jumped up quickly, I suppressed my laugh as I waited for her to stop trying to leap out of my arms.

“You hate the guest bed so I’m taking you to ours. I’ll sleep on the guest bed or whatever.” I say and she just finally gives up the fight, but I knew I’d probably be up all night with my thoughts and half-assed writing.

“Whatever, just walk faster before I jump.”

—

The pain of my words hit a little harder around 1 am, I couldn’t believe I was even saying half of the shit that I did.

I wouldn’t even know how to react if she would’ve said the words I said to her, let alone know that she thinks I don’t love her or care about her. That’s what hurts the worst, is knowing she expects better but I just haven’t been up to her standards.

“You can’t stay up sulking all night, it’s bad for you.” Her voice cut through the dark music room.

“Can you see sulking in the dark or is it just obvious?” I ask and she chuckles, turning the light on in the room.

Her eyes were puffy and her frame curled inwards for warmth. She moved to sit on the edge of the plastic chair by the door. It stayed silent for at least three minutes.

“I don’t hate you, Shawn. I really don’t. I wish I did though, so every time you left for a new radio tour, press conference, or plain tour, it wouldn’t be so hard on me. So hard on me to watch you leave so effortlessly, as I sit here waiting for you to love me just as much. I’m not saying that you choose between the two because you don’t, I wouldn’t let you anyways. It’s just that,-“ she took a really deep breath in, her voice started to waver slightly,

“It’s just that I can tell you’re about to break. Every day I see you look more stressed out and I can’t help you. You don’t speak but a few words to me, so I know I can’t help you. And I know we both say stupid things when it’s a heated argument, but you were right. Maybe you’re better off alone because I can’t catch you and when I do, I’m no good.”

That was it, the tears started to fall down my cheeks rapidly. I knew I hurt her, but goddamn Shawn, you broke her.

“No one in this world knows me better than you do, inside and out. I’m sorry that I make it hard to love me, I build walls up to ensure I don’t break down and I built those walls without you inside them. I’m sorry. There’s no way I could be alone, I couldn’t do it without you. I just need time, I know it’s all you’ve been giving me, but I promise there is a change coming soon. I know we’re mad and on a tightrope, but you know me. Please, I’ll always need you; you know the real me is a weak mess inside.” I let the words flow out of my mouth as fast as the tears fell.

“You need time?” She asks and I nod, I could tell her heart was still just as broken.

“Not away or solely with you, I’m still making progress with my anxiety, and even if it’s hard to admit; I need more help. I’ve got to talk to the team and make changes to my mental health for once. I know waiting is hard and if you can’t do it, I understand, but baby no one has loved me as you do, and the same from me to you. So baby please, give me just a little time .” I felt like I was coming off as some desperate kid, but her face softened so gently, she waltzed to kneel in front of me.

“Okay, time it is.” She kissed my hand softly, the easiest and most loving gesture I needed. And for a second, I felt safe again. No one understood me like her.

​

[suckitsurveys]

1 - How often do you change the sheets on your bed? What does your favourite bedding look like? I wash them every few weeks. We only habe one set that works right now. It’s light blue with a dark blue comforter. 

2 - When was the last time you had coffee with a friend? Mark is a friend. We had coffee a couple days ago.

3 - Is there snow outside right now? Is that a good or a bad thing for you? There isn’t. I’m fine with that.

4 - What scent was the last candle/incense/air freshener that you used? My neighbor gave me a candle called Unicorn Farts that smells like candy.

5 - When was the last time you listened to the radio? Sunday on my drive home from my sister’s. I was listening to the station that just plays Christmas music. 

6 - Do you always buy the same brands of food, or are you open to trying something new occasionally? Depends on what is on sale. 

7 - What did you have for breakfast this morning? I had oatmeal with soy milk and honey. .

8 - Is your job repetitive, or do you do different things every day? Repetitive.

9 - Do you have any superstitious beliefs? What led you to believe in those things? I’m just a little stitious. 

10 - When was the last time you took a painkiller? What was the reason for it? Sunday. I had a really bad headache. 

11 - Do you have any plans for your next birthday yet? When is your birthday, anyway? My plan is to hopefully be able to see people in person and maybe go on a trip. My birthday is Sept 2nd.

12 - What’s your favourite flavour of juice? Apple.

13 - Are any of your electronics on charge right now? Both laptops and my phone and my vibrator lol.  14 - Do you enjoy being busy, or would you rather take things a bit more slowly? I enjoy a good balance. I like being busy to keep my mind off stuff but I like relaxing a bit too. 

15 - What time do you normally get out of bed in the morning? During work I get out of bed around 7, which is when I am supposed to start work, lol. Ah the joys of working from home. 

16 - What’s your favourite type of bread? Garlic.

17 - How many animals are in the room you’re in at the moment? Assuming they’re pets, do they belong to you or another member of your family? I can see all three kitties from where I am; one is in a chair next to me, one is on the ottoman in our coat cubby, and one is in the tree in our bedroom. 

18 - When was the last time you washed your hair? Saturday. I’ll probably wash it tonight after I decorate and work out. 

19 - Would you rather clean little and often every day, or wait and do a big blitz on a Saturday morning? Depends on my mood.

20 - When was the last time you had a ready meal? What counts as a “ready” meal? Like, take out? I had takeout on Friday. 

21 - Are there any foods you only eat at a certain time of year? Yeah, the traditional holiday type foods.

22 - Do you find certain foods to be comforting in any way? What’s your reason for thinking that? Of course. Some foods have tradition and memories attached to them. Like my mom’s potato salad that I started making for holidays after she passed. Or my dad’s spaghetti sauce we used to eat almost every Sunday. 

23 - What’s your favourite way of eating potatoes? With my mouth. 

24 - How many people do you see on an average day? Are you happy with that number? On average, at least one: my husband. I see my sister and her kids and my dad pretty often throughout the week as well. I am good with that because I have to be. It’s covidtimes yall. 

25 - What’s your favourite kind of soup? Potato leek and lobster bisque. 

26 - How old is the computer you’re currently using? At least 7 or 8 years old, as it was my mother’s. 

27 - Do you play a lot of video games? Do you play these often? No. I play a lot of games on my phone though.

28 - When was the last time you went bowling? Oh man. I don’t remember. The last time I remember bowling was like 5 years ago at one of the kids my sister nannied for’s 1st birthday party. But I also feel like I’ve been since. OH! We went bowling for my birthday 2 years ago. 

29 - Have you ever walked out of a place of work before? Did you leave for good or what happened? No.

30 - Do you own a lot of blankets? Do you use them regularly? I wouldn’t say a lot, no. We have 2 comforters and some throw blankets. I’m using a cute fleece throw with avocados on it. 

[delectablyalicee]

Nick Jonas’s New Assistant (Part 4)

Part One  Part Two  Part Three

You get a call one day, someone asking you to fill a personal assistant job. They give you little information as to who for, but when you found out, things get a little more interesting.

Note: This chapter takes place after you have already been working for Nick for 6 months, I wanted to jump ahead a little bit to move things along. I hope you all like it!

I fall down onto the huge, soft bed in front of me. Landing onto my back as I check the time. 3:34 am. The mattress moves a bit with the addition of another body beside me. Nick. His head is turned to see the time displayed across my phone screen.

"fuck, is it really that late?" He asks, the smell of alcohol hitting me as he speaks.

I probably smell the same. We went to an album release party tonight for one of Nick's friends, and we both had a few more drinks than expecting.

"It looks to be" I said, clicking my phone off and laying it down on the bed in between us.

This isn't the first time I've found myself in Nick's bed this late at night. I've been working for him for 6 months now, and things have gone so surprisingly well. We really work well together, having the perfect connection to really make sure this works. Over the 6 months we have grown pretty close, since we spend almost every single day together, but it is still a professional relationship. Nick is amazing, and handsome is an understatement, but this job is important to me, and I would never want to do anything to mess that up. So, despite getting close with him I need to make sure to keep it as professional as I can, but its hard, its really really hard. He's just so fucking charming! It also doesn't help that we've spent many a late night together, really getting to know each other. We've had so many 3am talks just about anything and everything. I really feel like I know him..like he knows me but every time things start to take a turn past professional I squash it. I don't want to but I need to. It's so hard every time I do, almost seeing the disappointment painted on Nick's face when I leave after the talks we have instead of staying like he asks, or telling him to stop his flirting comments. It pains me just as much as I think it pains him, but I can't let it get personal. I just can't.

This late night is like most others, except this time we are both drunk so are talk gets personal. I love personal talks with him. He just has so many amazing things to say, the way he thinks about some things is just surprising.. in a good way. It feels like we've been talking forever and I can barely keep my eyes open, but I don't want it to end...

"What time is it?" I ask Nick, sleep dripping from my words.

I feel him move a bit to click my phone on, it still being between us. "5"

My eyes open wide when I hear what he says. "Are you joking? Holy shit I have to go." I say as I sit myself up on the bed and going to slide myself off but I am stopped by a gentle hand grabbing my wrist, I look to see Nick.

"Don't go (y/n).. Just stay this once.."

His words send a shiver down my spine, I want to stay so bad, but I can't. I know I can't and he knows I can't, but the way he said that made me almost break. I want nothing more than to lay myself back down in this bed and let him wrap is arms around me and just pull me into his chest and keep me safe and warm and never let me go, but.. I can't. So I shake my head.

"Nick, don't do that to me.. you know I can't stay.. I'm sorry" I say as my feet hit the ground. Gathering up all my things and sliding out the door without saying another word.

In the morning I say my typical hello to George as he picks me up from my apartment, same as every morning. I'm dragging my feet a little this morning, not only being hungover but just simply tired since I really only slept for about 2 hours. George and I make our small talk on the way to Nick's house, checking the agenda for today. It's not too bad, thankfully. 9:30am meeting with Paul to go over scheduling add on's and changes. This is really a meeting for me, but Nick likes to be there so he at least kinda knows what going on. I move my eyes up to look at the time, 8:45. Running right on time. I continue to look at the schedule, lunch is open, we'll play that by ear. 6:30 dinner with the head of a local L.A. magazine to talk doing a spread, and lastly 9:00 Joe's birthday party. Fuck. I completely forgot about Joe's birthday. I hadn't gotten the chance to meet him yet, as he's been about on tour but Nick warned me how big this party was gonna be, which was him, in short, telling me to take the "company card" and get something nice to wear and a present to bring. Fuck, fuck, fuck I totally forgot. I take a deep breath, its okay I'll go over lunch and get what I need...hopefully.

When we reach Nick's house I say a goodbye and a thank you to George and head on inside. Starting the coffee pot up right away as usual and calling out Nick's name. Sometimes he surprises me with being awake, but usually he's still sound asleep. So, like usual I make my way up to Nick's room, knocking once before swinging the door open as I call out his name again.

"Niiiickkkk wakey-wak---"

You're cut off by the view of a girl, completely naked laying beside him in bed. He his covered by the blanket from the waste down but only her lower legs are being covered. I immediately lift my hands to cover my eyes in shock, my heart dropping. He had to have called her right after I left.. I know I shouldn't be this hurt by that but I am. I know he hooks up with girls, I mean why wouldn't he? Especially after I always shoot down his advances, plus he's single and famous and so, so attractive, but over the past 6 months he's always made sure the girls were gone before I got here. I think he knows it hurts me, but maybe he's just done trying to hide it, but I really didn't think after last night he would let me find him like this..

"Oh..I...I am so sorry I did not expect.."

 You stammer out, but are cut off again, this time by Nicks voice.

 "(y/n)? Shit! I'm sorry I didn't.. shit I'll be right down" He says, you can hear the regret and embarrassment ringing from every word that leaves his mouth.

I just stepped back and quickly shut the door. I dropped my hand from my eyes and took a small breathe.. why is this hurting me so bad? Ugh, I need to suck it up. I can't be with him anyway, he has every right to be with whoever he wants. With that I made my way downstairs and poured my coffee, as usual. Taking a seat at the breakfast bar and pretending to look over the schedule in my phone, but really I'm trying to listen to what is happening upstairs. I can't hear much, just muffled voices and then finally, the door to his bedroom opening. I hear Soft, delicate foot steps heading down the stairs, not Nicks. I can't see the girl since my back is to the stairs but I finally catch site of her as she passes in front of me to head out the front door. Her hair was disheveled and her clothes looked to be thrown on, fuck I hate this. I need to get myself out of his thing I have with him. I do everything I can to not egg on my feelings but I just can't help it, but its time. I need to stop this, now. I'm pulled out of my thoughts with the ding of my phone. Its a text from Nick

"Getting in the shower, be down soon...I'm sorry"

I ignore his sorry and type back quickly. "Paul will be here at 9:30 for the meeting." I take a deep breathe as I hit send. I can't let this get to me. I have a job to do.

[momiwanabeanautistwhenigrowup]

So here I am. Doing the one thing I have steadily avoided for the last 4 years…somewhat.

I shouldn’t start off this way but fuck I hate writing. And there goes the first impression, etched forever in your subconscious.

She’s not going to be happy about this. Meh.

So I’m a 30 y/o stuck in this hellhole and this is my story? I guess. I mean it’s really ours.

I basically made this account to vent ..uh then I realised I’d have to go all the way back for it to make sense…and I guess my life has always been this series/rpg game so it might take shape in that style. I’m mostly explaining this to myself.

Jump to 2016. I started this biography venture bc in my short 25 years I’d amassed a set of experiences that were not so average middle class life experiences, and not in the good way. Now if you take my story and place it on the backdrop of each life on this earth then, in my opinion, my life is pretty ordinary too. Hence the (reason I tell myself there was a) delay with finishing this biography. Anyway so I sat down to write this thing a total of two times(fucking literary genius) in 2016, sometime in April if I recall correctly. It was horrible but necessary, and then I guess I found magic? And decided to halt production since well…I was busy coming into awareness. I still have the draft on this pc... I stopped when I was 10 years old.

Jump to 2020 and I’m in front of this computer with Tumblr as my backdrop in order for me to feel like I have and audience and therefore someone to talk to (I decided to type this shit out on word before copy pasting to tumblr bc apparently I don’t like living on the edge??)

I’m high as fuck (I would like to say.. but na, I’m just regular high off some freshly home-grown microwaved weed.) anyway this is probably going to be my last indulgent ingestion of the stuff. Hopefully.

Don’t get me wrong, weed isn”t to blame and I have people I can talk to, but the problem is

Everyone

Has

Their

Own

Shit.

None I know has the space. I’m the most equipped to deal with myself. To me, that is deeply unsettling right now. Like… most people don’t even know where to begin and..well..I’ve been here before so I know what to do and honestly it’s fucking shit haha.

And as shitty as I feel, it doesn’t change the fact. I gotta figure this out on my own.

I’m a 30 y/o natural med student in my second year of my 5 year degree. I live at my parent’s house in a relatively good neighbourhood, I have the most comfortable bed, a loving cat, a good-looking bedroom and many middle class luxuries…like an en suite. I have a very comfortable house to live in and there is always food whenever I feel like eating or even just to cook for fun(my talents lie in the kitchen, potions, medicines and treats are my favourite pastimes, I love to nourish people. Don’t let it fool you though.) it’s c o v i d year rn and I don’t pay for shit.. factually, I’m pretty privileged to have all that I do physically.

My parents have always been around in physicality, even when they weren’t there, especially when they weren’t there… which was and still is a lot.  And in rolls one of the overarching themes emerges. Welcome welcome.

I got that far and took a Facebook break, bitch she runnin

So yeah I was born in this bitch back in 1990, two guys got here before me, one 11 years prior, the other 3 years after the first. Then I showed up after our parents reconciled after a 6-month separation. But like…that doesn’t happen in my life till 2019.

I’m currently contemplating piercing my lip or nose but I threw out all of my old jewellery. Geezus, it’s her and she is 22. (side note to myself,  please ignore)

Anyway so yeah I get borned unto these guys; a drummer butalso telephone technician and an accountant, both were raised as worker bees but are actually uh..nope. spoiler one is a caster the other is a timekeeper. Both mages, but they don’t know.

I was this scared to shit little creature of a child. I slept between them once It was safe to do so (I know almost nothing about kids but I’m assuming it’s a safety hazard to sleep next to new-borns? let alone to let them sleep between two people whom are also asleep. Also, I recall sleeping in this white, wooden cot thing which used to chill next to their bed. It opened up like some gates did in those medieval(<-never understood this word tbh) castles, the ones that go vertically up and down. (Yes, I remember. I remember realising I was back on this plane when I was 2 months old, it’s my earliest memory-trust me this becomes highly unimpressive once I turn 23 so hold on before you think I’m lookin for clout on this one). Like I get that that is cute and all, legit I was cradled in safety but like, that cradle started to close in very soon. Too much of a good thing changes poles kids. Leave Jesus alone he wants to have some him time.

So yeah a lot happens that was quite significant during these first 4 years but I don’t remember much but a few glimpses. Bouncing on my dad’s chest, the lounge on a sunny Sunday, mom in a beige coat, long pretty hair, a family vacation where I wore this 2 piece I loved and there was a blue waterslide tube, a fight about racism (early 90s, go figure..but like also 2020 fr) a roller-skating rink, a “haunted” forest walk, Easter…. man that vacation was fun. Most of the things I remember were from age 4 onwards. But I do have snippets of before.. playing dress up with my cousins, hiding in cupboards, hiding behind makeshift tents, maaaaany makeshift tents, talks about camping outside by the pool (oh we had quite a nice sized house with a huge yard and quite a big pool too, I learned to swim when I was two, I spent a lot of time in and around water as a kidling) I spent and remember most of my time with my cousins and being angry at our aunts. I did ballet from the age of 4 as well, I remember my mom asking me if I wanted to do ballet and I said yes, we were in this blue ballet room where one of my cousins was busy with her class. She got here 7 or 8 years ahead of me too.

Idk my childhood was pretty colourful, even today, I remember it being filled with lots of adventure. At least until I started going to crèche, but only for mornings until the other kids got here and it took my mind off of the fact that my mom wasn’t there. I hated it when my mom left me anywhere, I still remember what that felt like and it’s still nauseating despite the fact that I’m about 26 years older now.

also i’m finally posting this now and the high has already worn off. 24 hours to go.

fuck.