#getting him in three weeks :) got my complete emotional breakdowns over my baby boy down to like. three times a week which is something but

[wulfhalls]

even newer kitkat pics <33

[tommyspeakycap]

request for jack grealish one where he’s really upset over something and you’re there with him to comfort him, lots of physical contact being his love language and you being the only person he likes touching his hair ?

Comfort

You knew from the very second he walked through the door that annoyed would be an incredibly generous word to describe the emotions running through the Brummie boys head. You grimace to yourself, shoulder raising closer to your ears at the sound of the brand new front door slamming heavily behind him with a curse at the fact he couldn't get his shoes kicked off just right the first time he attempted it in the foyer.

The first game was a loss and just about all he'd gotten for the past few days was hate, stress, hate and some more fucking stress. He was exhausted. From Mykonos to Birmingham to get a bag full of clothes so he could meet Villa in London before eventually travelling to Manchester, his sleep schedule has been completely messed up and even when he did have bursts of time where he should have been sleeping, he had been laying awake scrolling through countless tweets criticising his every single move. Add to that the fact his body was exhausted from international duty and that he had wanted nothing more than to curl up by your side and let his worries melt away like he had last gotten to do nearly three whole months ago.

He doesn't know you're here. To the very best of Jack's knowledge, you were still home in Birmingham and he would probably have to broach the conversation of whether or not you'll be joining him up anytime soon, if ever. He lets out a frustrated grunt, but you know Jack better than anyone else and there's the thick sheen of his heart aching tears existing beneath his frustration.

"Hey baby."

His head snaps around to land his eyes on you the second your sweet voice meets his buzzing ears. The echos of Etihad still burn a bit of his hearing away for now, but he knows it'll return to normal by the end of the night. The tears that had previously been kept on his lash line, pushed back by his will not to breakdown for fear he might not be able to stop if he starts are now past the last line of defence, streaming over his cheeks as he crossed the floor at a pace that would send his fife rating into surefire question.

Your body makes an involuntary 'oof' as he crashes against you, his arms so tight around your body as he stops you from stumbling back with the force of his incoming hug. You don't think he's ever actually held you that tightly before, never with such dire necessity, with such urgency for you to be as close to him as he could get you.

The hair that's been allowed to fall loose from the band he'd earlier had it tied back in tickles the back of your neck as it dangles over the exposed skin. He mumbles something almost incoherent about how much he's missed you into your neck, pepping chaste kisses where his lips have landed against you in this hug. You wished you could enjoy that, but the dampening that has begun to occur over the shoulder that his head is above reminds you of the pain he must be in.

Leaving your childhood club is one thing, but leaving it when everybody else seems to think he's a monster for it is a whole different kind of agony. There were just too many emotions for people to see the kind of things Jack had given for the club and the huge opportunity he had left them with his legacy and with the money they copped for his record breaking sale.

"It's okay, Jacky." You coo, tightening your arms around you as he attempts one tighter squeeze to force the tears back into him. It's a futile attempt, his arms loosening but never dropping away from you as he squeezes his eyes shut and lets those sobs shake his body. "I got you, baby. I've got you."

There was such a mix of emotions running through him that made him feel like the world had just pushed him to the ground and taken the perfect opportunity to give his body a good kicking. First final for England in 55 years, then they lost in a penalty shootout he didn't even get to be a part of after a game he barely got to play in. Then a holiday he couldn't take with you because of work commitments and a sudden coworker needed sooner maternity leave meaning your holiday was completely eliminated. As if those things didn't dampen his spirit, all that transfer business had gone down and it was finally all hitting him.

His exhaustion had caught up, an inevitable burn out that could be messed only by the presence of you in his life. Some of this tears that stream down his cheeks and pool on the grey material of your t-shirt are ones of joy and relief for finally having you back in his arms again for the first time in far too long of a time. Jack vows he will never ever spend that amount of time without you again. Never will he let so much time pass before he gets to hold you, kiss you and tell you face to face how much he truly loves every single thing about you.

"You're my rockstar, you know." You announce, seemingly out of the blue ones his body wracking sobs had died to smaller sniffled and period tears streaking down onto you. "I've literally never been prouder of anyone in my life ever. Not only did you fucking smash the euros, but then you stayed so sweet and so amicable during such a difficult process. You handled everything so well, J. I'm so proud or you and I'm so, so happy for you." You promise, pushing him back so you can take his blotchy, tear streaked face in your head. The expanse of that face is coved in your kisses, pecked all over the surface until he's giggling like the Jack that you know so well, his laugh the most contagious sound you've ever been lucky enough to get to hear on a daily basis. "And I'm so lucky that you let me share this journey with you." You finish, landing your lips softly and perfectly onto his with a warmth and love he had been desperately missing out on for those last vital few weeks of his break.

"S' our journey," Jack mumbles in response against your lips, pulling back every so slightly so he can get a proper good look at the face he had missed so much in person. Your cute quirked eyebrows and confusion tainted eyes make him smile before he elaborates. "Not my journey, it's our journey together. All of this, just the two of us."

His words make your heart sore, flying up onto the space above you in pure glee. You had to admit there was a mild element of fear wondering if he would want you here or if he'd maybe be wanting fresh start, but that was certainly not the case for Jack.

"I love you," he says as you feel him tuck you right back into his chest with a content hum. "I love you too, but you need a wash."

Jack's laughter bellows loudly from his chest beneath your ear at your lightly playful and yet very truthful statement.

"I ran you a bubble bath for you. Bathroom's huuuuge." Your eyes are full of wonder like he thought they might be when he would get the opportunity to bring you out to his temporary Manchester abode. This is you would both stay until he could find a house to place some money down on so he can truly start to settle out the fact he's going to have the next six years of his life here in this area with this club. It makes him more than happy, being here. But something that tickles him in thought as he follows you up the stairs is that he'll get to experience all of this newness with you. You’ll get to explore the new area together, find nee places, making it home together. You had both known Soulihull like the back of your hand, now you could find new places to just be together. He can go house hunting with you. He'll let you drag him through the houses he probably wouldn't otherwise look so much into, talking about what room could be which and silly little things he wouldn't even have noticed.

He could pick a house with you that would have enough room to start a family in together within the next year or so, like you had been hoping to do depending on what the club and transfer season had brought. This brought stability, a team that would function well without a reliance on him if there were some things he had to sit out in order to build this family.

It had been, unbeknownst to you, such a pivotal part of discussions with the Manchester City agents. Jack made it clear he was looking for stability and trophies. He had done so much for Villa and now it was time for him to invest energy in bigger fights with bigger clubs that don't face relegation so constantly. He made it clear to the managers also that the was looking to be in the business of starting a family sometime soon. He was welcomed with open arms still. A club who wanted him desperately and would probably have caved to many more demands from him, not having a fraction of an issue with negotiated paternity pay and leave.

He couldn't wait to find a house and settle down here with you for the foreseeable future, even if things didn't look exactly as he thought they might've looked when you first got together as merely young adults.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours, eh?" You ask softly, running your fingers gently through his tangled and sweaty hair as he stands there in the middle of the large bathroom. Jack shrugs. There's so much in there today, not really like usual where he could sort through those thoughts and keep his head clear for every day and every game he faces.

"Just stressed," he huffs, allowing you to help him out of the brand new away strip he had been given at the beginning of the day today for his first first game with the new team.

His muscles are achy and tight, body still stiff from the cold that the rain had battered into his limbs as you easily hook off his boxers and tug them down his legs so he can step over the bathtub into the perfect temperature bubble filled water that makes him heave out a heavy sigh of relief the second it meets his skin.

"Talk to me, baby?"

And talk to you he did after he sat down in that bath with you.

He leaned back against you, allowing you to lather shampoo into the hair he trusted very few people with multiple times to massage the ache out of his skull from the previous days tension headaches. He talks about all those messages from so many unhappy people, some even City fans who didn't even want to entertain the idea of him being there. He talks about his worry of sitting on the bench season after season, telling you he was hoping to god those tweets wouldn't be further from the truth. He confided in you some of his greatest pains; the concept that he'd let his Villa teammates down and maybe even made his family unhappy despite the fact they had given him nothing but their full support and unsurprising pride just like everybody else in his immediate circle.

You massage muscle relaxing soap into all of the muscles in his body as he just talks, letting the weight of the world off of his shoulders to dissipate like the steam in the air from the bath. Only once he has everything off his chest and the waters gone cold do you both leave the bathroom, wrapped in towels then into pyjamas where he wraps you up in his arms like he's been desperate to do since the moment he touched off for International duty months ago, and he talks again.

This time, he talks to you instead of just talking out every worry and fear he's ever had.

Jack uses probably the most amount of words he's ever used in such sensible succession in order to paint you a perfect mental picture of a house just outside the city with a huge garden, fenced in for dogs and kids with a pool and enough room for all three of those future kids to have their own room, even though they'll share at first just for fun. He paints a picture of you at his games with two sons and a daughter, his name on each shirt along your back. The kids will call Foden uncle Phil and they’ll love him just like you both do. They'll get to play with the teams kids on the pitch after the games no matter how tired the guys are even if they've been thrashed in a loss. He depicts the kind of life you had both wanted for so long, somehow always deterred by something until right this moment, the time feeling like it had rolled perfectly into place for both of you.

And Jack tells you about how you'll poke fun at him when he starts to get those salt and pepper strands of hair and he'll love you no matter how you look. Your kids will learn what love is from their parents, they'll pick it up and they'll emulate it in their own lives sometime in the future. They'll stamp out hate with the hearts full of love that you will both allow those kids to grow into.

You both fall asleep together that night, wrapped in each others arms drifting off into dreams of kids that don't exist yet in a house you haven't even looked for with a future that each of you wants nothing more than to grab onto with both hands.

Jack's heart hurts for the changes he's made this week. He doubts the pain will ever fully leave him and he hopes that one day his club will welcome him back to end his career on a high note with them. However, until then the pain will be dulled by the prospect of his new future here.

One he can't wait to get stuck right into.

[amelialincoln]

Need You

Ever since she snapped at him last week, Link had been trying desperately to not be affected by Amelia’s nightmares. Since Meredith had been put on the vent, there wasn’t a single night that his girlfriend hadn’t woken up sweating and thrashing like a maniac, and to say that it was concerning Link was an understatement.

“Amelia,” he hissed, into the darkness, while shaking her awake. Amelia sat up so abruptly she almost pushed him off the bed.

“What?” Her voice was thick with sleepiness. “Oh...fuck, sorry.” She pushed her curtain bangs out of her face and glanced at their bedside table to check the time.

“I can make some tea?” He offered.

“I’m literally fine, just go back to bed,” she replied dismissively.

“You’re shaking.” His hand brushed her bare shoulder affectionately.

She shrugged him off, sighing and mumbling, “I’m just gonna get a glass of water,” before tugging on one of Link’s hoodies and quietly leaving their bedroom. She paused at Scout’s makeshift bedroom in the office to peek inside. Like always, their little boy was sleeping soundlessly in his crib. She brushed a finger against his pudgy cheek, lingering for a moment and debating whether to pick him up. If she felt in control of one thing right now it was Scout. Making up for the three others, his first couple of weeks had been almost effortless. He was a movement baby for sure but Amelia didn’t mind. She’d simply put him in the wrap they’d bought and carried him around most of the day.

“If you wake him up he’s going to be grump tomorrow.” Link’s calm voice made her jump, her heart still racing from the nightmare.

“I know,” she whispered back resentfully, “I was just making sure he was okay.”

“Was that what your dream was about?” He pressed. “He’s safe, Mia, we always have the monitor running.”

“I know.” She ran a stressed hand through her hair before pushing past him and into the hallway and quietly walking down the old, creaky set of stairs. The sound of Link’s clunky footsteps followed her apprehensively and he wrapped his arms around her as she filled a glass of water at the sink. It was then that she started to sob. Link had witnessed a couple of Amelia breakdowns before but this time it was different.

“Hey, look at me,” he ordered as her breathing started to rapidly quicken, “deep breaths.”

“Link.” Her voice was as fragile as a china doll.

“You’re okay,” he assured her, resting his chin on the crown of her head.

“I’m falling apart trying to parent these kids for two weeks. If she dies. What’s supposed to happen to them? They’ve already lost their dad, “she was palming her chest as if her heart was physically hurting, “Derek, he’s gone.”

“Amelia it’s--”

“Scout. As he gets older. He looks more and more like him every day. I compare pictures of him and my brother as a baby and it’s almost terrifying. Our son is beautiful and perfect but every time I look at him, in some weird and twisted way, it’s like I’m looking at my brother.” She pulled out of his grasp, leaning over the kitchen counter. Link watched her turn a shade of white before throwing up into the sink.

“Mia.” He was cupping her hair out of her face a second later while she heaved. “You’re okay, it’s okay.” He was trying to find a way to console her as she grieved someone he’d never even met.

“It’s too much,” she groaned. “How are we supposed to take care of four children and not completely fall apart.”

“She’s going to pull through.” Link rubbed her upper back in circular motions, momentarily being taken back to nine months ago.

“You don’t know that,” Amelia gagged. “Bailey hates me enough. If I have to tell him--”

“Amelia, you won’t,” Link interrupted firmly. “Obsessing over the worst case scenario is making you sick.”

“How can you not though?” She winced, spitting out the last of their takeout dinner.

“Because if I keep telling myself that everything’s going to go back to normal soon, it makes every day more bearable. Do you think I don’t wish I was in the OR right now? Or raising Scout in our apartment like we planned?” Amelia shrugged, weakly lowering herself down onto one of the stools at the island. “Of course I do. But if that’s all I focus on, I'll start to go insane.”

“Join the club,” she chuckled darkly. “And if we’re putting everything out on the table. I don’t trust Winston.”

“Babe, what?” Link sighed. “You’re obsessing over things because you're stressed.”

“No, I’m not.” She slammed her fists down on the counter. “She disappeared with a guy we barely know anything about and when he came he got all weird about Jackson.”

“Cause he’s Maggie’s ex.” Link tried not to act condescending. “You think I don’t feel uncomfortable when I work with Owen?” It was like he was watching his girlfriend fall apart before his eyes.

“I saw what I saw,” she argued. “I’m not making stuff up in my head.” She placed her forehead in her palms. Link was about to make a joke about Deluca when he realized that he was dead too. Everything really was starting to look a little too depressing. Link shook his head, trying to shake the underlying, familiar feeling that was beginning to creep up on him.

“Can we go lie on the couch? I don’t know how to help you in any other way but to just hold you.” Amelia nodded through slow rolling tears, with an expression on her face that broke Link’s heart into millions of tiny pieces. “Come on, babe,” he sighed, lifting her into his arms and laying her onto Meredith’s couch, cradling her tightly as hours passed.

Amelia’s phone buzzing in the pocket of her sweat shorts finally woke them in the early hours of the morning and the little gasp that followed pulled the rest of the sleepiness out of Link.

“It’s the hospital.” Her shaky hands threatened to drop the phone as the couple stared at it with hesitation. “Dr. Shepherd,” Amelia finally answered, trying to mask any emotion in her voice. “Hey, Bailey. Do you...okay...yeah they’ve been good...yep you can tell her that…” Amelia’s voice broke a bit. “...tell her that they’re doing fine and that they miss her. Oh, and don’t forget about Bailey’s tooth...yep, one of his molars. Make sure she knows that...and Zola’s math test...yeah, an A. Am I on speaker?” Amelia grinned as tears rolled down her face. Link hugged her tightly into his chest, needing no explanation. “Ellis finally tried broccoli...yeah of course it was Link that convinced her...yep and she makes him read her five books every night...takes like half an hour. Scout’s good...yeah eating better now...still bites my nipples though,” she laughed. “Bailey too? Of course he did...okay...yeah of course...get some rest...bye...love you.” She put her phone down and practically tackled Link with a hug. “She’s off the vent.”

“I figured.”

“Her levels are going up by the hour.” She wiped the fat tears rolling down her cheeks. “She’s talking about some beach, Lexie and all this nonsense but they aren’t too concerned about it. Oh my god, Link, she’s okay.”

“Told you so,” he teased, trying to hide his relief. “She needs to come take back Hayes before Jo gets too ahead of herself.” Amelia laughed, shaking her head.

“Well, someone’s gotta tell her, that man’s heart beats for Meredith Grey. If anyone is happier than me right now, it’s him.”

[][][]

bc what tf was that interview w krista about Jo and hayes possibly having a romantic spark. like yes krista, jo making rude remarks and comparing hayes dead wife to alex is a great flirting tactic. i love jo but absolutely not. hayes is here for mer and only mer.

[signed-yours-truly-the-whale]

Thoughts/Observations on Joker, part 1

AKA I Spent 7 Hours on This, I Will Die if it Gets Less Than Three Notes

I could rave for hours about this movie’s cinematography. Literal hours.

Nobody talks enough about Arthur’s full-fledged dedication to his clown craft. Man is working 60+ hours a week and does not break a sweat. I also fucking love this clowny face he pulls here. The first shot we see of Arthur in full. Holy shit is it beautiful. God bless Joaquin Phoenix.

These two shots together are incredibly important to me. In a split-second we see Arthur’s disbelief that he cannot control the whirlwind of emotions inside of his own head, not even being able to produce a smile, and then his resignation because it’s just another day. Heartbreaking.

Awwww shiiiiit

Gotham City is such a dump but I’d be bullshitting myself if I said I didn’t love the grimy aesthetic of it. It’s technicolor trash.

Arthur loves his job so much. He genuinely enjoys being Carnival. That hurts a lot to think about in hindsight.

This man just got his ass handed to him and he is STILL SPRAYING THE FAKE FLOWER ON HIS VEST

YOU WANNA TALK ABOUT DEDICATION

This opening card is so imposing. Not only does it take up the entire screen to the point of running off the edges, but it’s shielding Arthur from view. Arthur is invisible in light of Joker in Arthur’s own movie.

I screenshotted this by accident but I felt a need to put it here because he’s just so adorable. Even right before an episode.

E y e s s s s s

E Y E S S S S S

I desperately want to know what got Arthur sent to Arkham the first time. A suicide attempt? A public breakdown? I really want fanfics of it.

There’s a really, really good fanfiction on AO3 by Arthur_Fleck about Arthur slowly recovering and meeting a girl called In the Major and Minor Arcana

I highly, highly recommend it

Okay. Joaquin’s immersion into his characters -- all of them -- is absolutely incredible. But Arthur is just ... off the charts, man. No two of his characters are the same and he embeds himself so deeply in their skin, but Joaquin buried himself so deeply into Arthur’s brain that it is so hard for me to see any of Joaquin at all. God, he’s incredible and this shot makes me emotional because this just is Arthur.

ARTHUR WOULD BE A GREAT DAD AND I DO NOT ACCEPT ARGUMENTS

It really speaks to how shitty Gotham is that this man is having a full-fledged screaming/laughing breakdown on the bus and nobody is batting an eye

I adore how the cinematography paints Arthur as so small to his own environment. He’s a speck of dust. A fleck.

Babie is wincing :((((

I have been trying to figure out the layout of this apartment for months and my inability to, even with a floor plan, is driving me insane

I just found out that the Budweiser beer jingle Here Comes the King is on the soundtrack and plays when Arthur comes home and that made me go feral

I  A M  M U R R A Y , K I N G  O F  A S S H O L E S

It is second nature for me to do this stupid pose every time I watch this scene

Arthur blending into the crowd here makes me ... so happy. He looks so happy.

This is Arthur’s best laugh of the movie, fuck you. I am incredulous that I was the only person laughing when I saw this in the theater opening night.

This is one of the few moments I really see Joaquin shine through Arthur. I don’t know why, but this lighting and his voice and his intensity gives me visceral flashbacks to watching a little boy Joaquin in Parenthood. God, I love this man.

It really is a testament to Penny’s (lack of) parenting that Arthur is day dreaming about receiving affection and validation from a parent figure when his own mother is literally right there

GOD DAMN THIS MAN IS GORGEOUS

But also big bruise :(

Yes, I shall trust you, man named Randall smiling down at me in low angle light

Why was Hoyt not informed that Arthur got his ass beat on the job? As Arthur’s employer he should’ve literally been the first person to know so he could make a note of it. Either he wasn’t told or he gave so little of a fuck that his consciousness astral projected to another plane of existence while he shoved the white powder down his throat and forgot Arthur existed at all.

Literally fuck Hoyt. I hate him even more that his office is the coolest shit in the world

ARTHUR KNOWS THE CUSTOMER SERVICE SMILE

Joaquin dislocated his knee in this scene, the poor boy

I could write a full damn essay about why the misleading advertising of Sophie as a prominent character was the greatest twist of the whole movie. Literally I am still speechless how the movie did that.

I am not kidding when I say my sister has this same color scheme in the bathroom of our house and realizing that made me werewolf

Also Arthur being the son Penny doesn’t deserve warms and breaks my heart

The complete lack of reaction to Penny’s “Don’t you have to be funny to be a comedian” makes me laugh and cry internally

This shot? Gorgeous. His face? Deadly. That jawline? Cutting diamonds. Hotel? Trivago.

I really, really want a Joker 2, but at the same time I do not want a Joker 2 because Joaquin Phoenix has a baby who needs him now and he cannot be pulling shit like losing 52 lbs for a role

Also I REALLY need to discuss how much this brass ballet reminds me so heavily of Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs. Holy fuck, I got actually chills in the theater

Like holy fuck

And then this shot reminds me so heavily of the opening of Fedddy vs Jason with Freddy Krueger laughing over his newspaper collage of missing children. Holy fuck I love this cinematography.

Guys. G - Guys, his name tag says Dr. Carnival, can you hear me  s o b b i n g

This part is so Chaplinesque, the way he slides the gun into his coat again

These children look so afraid of him for dropping the gun and wowie, does that really hurt

Was this asshole supposed to be modeled after Eric Trump? Because I get really douchebaggy Eric Trump vibes (minus the jacked teeth) from this ringleader

I don’t have much to say here except I am in love with the way Artie’s hair sticks straight up in bottle curls when the clown wig slides off

Also if you decide it’s a good idea to mess with a man dressed as a clown laughing maniacally on the subway of one of the most dangerous cities in the world, you are asking him to shoot you and I will not feel sorry for you

I will never not be in love with this image. I fell in love with it in the teaser trailer and almost went feral in the middle of the mall when I saw this was the poster they used to advertise the movie with. My friend described this movie as “chaos, beautified,” and nothing sums it up as well as this picture.

JOAQUIN AND TODD MADE THIS ENTIRE SEQUENCE UP AND I AM IN LOVE

Hello, handsome

[bittywitches]

Baby Girl | G.D [Part Three]

Part One | Part Two

A/N: Y/N is having a hard time dealing with what happened the other night, but when an unexpected visitor shows up at her school the day seems to turn around :)

Thank you so much for the love I’ve gotten for this series, it really means the world <3 Thanks for reading!

Word Count: 6.2K

The ringing of the school bell at the end of the day was always music to your ears, but today especially it felt like a gift as you rushed to your locker to gather your things. The entire day had been an absolute train-wreck for you, starting with you forgetting your cue cards for your business presentation that morning, to accidentally destroying half of the atom diagram you’d made as a favour to one of the freshmen science teachers (leading to a very embarrassing apology and a promise to fix it by the end of the week that you definitely did not plan on keeping), ending with you completely bombing your physics test last period, effectively raising your anxiety to a new record high. 

This, of course, wouldn’t be happening in the first place if it weren’t for the fact that your brain really wasn’t here right now. Your mind had been wandering the entire day, only really thinking about one thing from the moment you woke up:

Grayson.

And it would be different if they were just pleasant daydreams. No, you were used to daydreaming constantly during school. This was different. This was a constant pounding in your head, just a voice constantly feeding into your anxious thoughts, effectively ruining everything for you today. Ever since the night before, you’d been worrying non-stop about what had happened at the twins’ place. The entire car ride home, you kept dodging questions that your sister asked you, trying your best not to have a mental breakdown in the passenger seat. You were, frankly, mortified by yourself. In your mind, you had effectively ruined your friendship with Cameron, ruined any sort of relationship you could ever have with Grayson, and were sure that this was going to end up with your sister finding out what you had done. So when Cameron texted you that morning seeming like nothing out of the ordinary was going on, you were nervous. It was able to help you rationalize the situation a bit. Okay, so maybe Grayson didn’t go and tell his sister about your breakdown. But still, there’s no way you’d be able to face him again. And you hated that so much, you loathed yourself for ruining something that felt so perfect to you, You hated that you’d fucked up any chance of you and Grayson having any sort of relationship at all. 

Either way, your heart immediately sunk again that morning when your sister told you that she’d be at work again, so Cameron would be the one to come pick you up. Hearing this, you, of course, tried to ignore the impending feeling of doom that crept over your shoulder throughout the day, which now felt like you were carrying tons of bricks on your back instead of the textbooks you were now loading into your bag before closing your locker door. You sighed, pressing your forehead against the cold metal as you took your phone out.

There was a notification:

Cameron D.

Heyyy, so there’s been a slight change of plans…

Reading those words only made your heart felt like it was going to shoot up and out of your throat. What could she mean by that?

You pressed the message and quickly responded to her.

Y/N

Idk if I like how that sounds…

Throwing your backpack over your shoulder. you headed for the staircase as you watched the three little dots bounce on your screen.

Cameron D.

Turns out my friend is hosting a get together later tn for her coworkers but she completely forgot n now she needs my help to get everything ready

Cameron D.

Sooooo I asked one of the boys to pick you up! :)

The tip of your shoe immediately caught onto the last step, vaulting you forward literally almost getting you to eat dirt, but you caught yourself. And it wasn’t because you weren’t looking where you were going (although that did happen frequently as well) but because you genuinely felt your fear that had been trickling up your spine all day finally come up and grip your throat with no warning, catching you completely off guard. Thank god you’d already gotten to the bottom of the stairs, since you were quite sure that you would’ve fallen face-first down them and broken a multitude of bones.

You hastily texted her back, making your way out the front door of the school.

Y/N

One of the boys??

When your foot landed on the curb you stopped abruptly and looked up to see you’d already reached the road.

Cameron D.

Yea, my brothers?? One of the twins lol did you forget them already

You would’ve laughed if it weren’t for your overwhelming anxiety right now.

Y/N

Which one of the twins?

The fact that she wasn’t texting you back immediately literally felt like it was giving you a heart attack.

Y/N

Cameron?

Y/N

Which twin???

Y/N

CAMERON

Y/N

ANSWER ME

“Y/N?” 

You looked up, and you could feel your heart actually stop beating. A shock of cold went up through your body when your eyes connected with those familiar hazel ones, the ones that you’d spent the past fourteen hours thinking about non-stop.

You spun around quickly, your back towards the immensely eye-catching baby blue Porsche, and the figure who was looking at you threw the window. You were panting hard. You pressed a hand to your forehead, trying to keep your head from spinning. It’s not him. It can’t be him.

You then heard you phone ding again, and you looked at your screen:

Cameron D.

Grayson, why?

You dropped your hands to your sides, breathing heavily and trying to blink back the tears that were starting to form in your eyes from all the thoughts rushing through your head at once.

“Y/N, it’s Grayson!”  His deep voice was so loud in your ears and you could see the eyes of other students passing by clinging to the bright car, then drifting their eyes towards you when they saw who the man inside the vehicle had his attention on. You gripped the straps of your bag tightly and pressed your eyes shut, trying to concentrate on anything but the eyes and the stares and the voices and that feeling-

“Um, Cameron said she wasn’t able to pick you up.” He said, quieter this time. But it sounded distant to you, and you were trying your hardest just to focus on the sound of your deep breathes and nothing else because you really didn’t feel like collapsing for a second time in front of him-

But thinking of that only made your heart start beating faster again and your breaths were coming shorter and shorter. Hastily opening your eyes, you reached into your sweater pocket and fumbled for your inhaler, quickly bringing it out and taking a puff. 

Your breathing eased, and your head felt like it was clearing up from all of the anxiety-inducing thoughts. You breathed out, stuffing your inhaler back into your pocket (you’d never let it leave your side again). One last look at your phone made you bite your lip in annoyance.

 “Thanks a fucking lot cam-” You muttered, turning around to finally face the one you were sure you’d never be able to face again.

Grayson’s furrowed eyebrows finally relaxed, a wary but soft smile growing on his face. “Hey.”

Seeing his face again didn’t help the buzzing of nerves inside of you. He looked amazing. Looking at him now, it made you realize that you’d missed his face. His lovely locks of hair, his gentle brown eyes, his chiseled face and his short stubble and his pink lips. You’d spent the whole day trying to push the image of him out of your head but seeing him now felt like the dam holding back all of those thoughts and emotions had broken and were now flooding your brain. It felt wrong to look at him like this when he still felt like a stranger.

You breathed out slowly once more. “Hey.”

“Cam sent me.”

Your feet finally began to move, and you walked over to his car. “Yea, I know.” You pointed to your phone.

“Ah.” 

You hesitated when you reached the side of the car, debating over if whether to sit in the passenger or back seat.

“I promise I won’t bite,” Grayson said, unlocking the car door with a sheepish smile.

You bit the inside of your cheek, reaching for the passenger seat door handle and pulling it open. You sat down gently in the passenger seat, placing your school bag at your feet before closing the door.

The drive was quiet for a while, a million thoughts rushing through your head at once. There was a part of you that wanted to reach for him, grab his face in your hands and kiss him like you did the night before. Sure, you were scared. But the feeling that rushed through you when his lips were connected with yours was something that was incomparable to anything else. But then there was that other part of you; that nagging, intrusive voice that won’t stop reminding you that you had fucked up. You embarrassed yourself. You shouldn’t be here, in his car, after everything you’ve done.

You bury your face in your hands, rubbing your face and your eyes.

Just get through the car ride.

“Hey.” You looked up, a bit startled, and saw Grayson giving you a quick look before returning his eyes to the road. “You okay?”

“Oh, yea, just had a bit of a rough day at school-”

“No, I meant,” He ran a hand through his hair then rested it at the back of his neck. “About yesterday.”

“Oh.” Your face flushed. The trees and cars outside the window suddenly seemed like they were a lot more interesting than anything inside the car. You rubbed circles on your knees, trying to keep yourself from freaking out any more than necessary. “Y-yea. I’m okay.”

“That’s good.” He had one arm gripped on the steering wheel, very obviously showing off his arm in his tshirt from the vein leading up to his bicep from his hand. “Did you get home okay? I was going to call you, but I didn’t have your number-”

“Yea, got home fine.” You said, cutting him off abruptly. He didn’t say anything, but you could see him in the front mirror looking at you through the corner of his eye. A few more minutes passed before he said anything else.

“Um, Y/N.” It felt like he was pushing the words out of his throat. “If… if you felt like I was pressuring you yesterday to- to do anything, I’m REALLY s-”

“No! I-It was nothing like that.” You rushed to say, and he looked at you with a worried expression. As if he didn’t believe you because of how fast you’d responded.

You sighed. “It’s okay, I promise.” You could visibly see the weight being lifted off his shoulders when he slumped and let out an audible breath of relief. 

“I…” You stuttered. “I really wanted to.” You muttered quietly.

Grayson’s ears tinted a bright shade of pink at that.

“I-” You said louder now. “I’m really, really so-”

“I thought I told you to never apologize to me.” He stopped you, raising an eyebrow.

A smile finally broke through when he said that.

“Um..” You looked at him now, less afraid to meet his eyes. “Thank you for… for taking care of me yesterday.”

He now returned your smile, happy to finally see your lovely face look happy. “There’s nothing to thank me for.”

You laid back in your seat, sighing in content as you did so.

“Hey, are you busy with anything today?”

You thought about it. Technically, yes. But right now, you really didn’t feel like doing anything else except be here. “No, why?”

“Can I take you somewhere?”

You tilted your head at him.

“It’ll be fun, I promise.”

You bit your lip, unsure of what exactly he had in store for you.

“Please?” His arm came down from the steering wheel to gently lay it on your thigh, his gentle eyes pleading with you.

“Okay.” You said it with no hesitation in your voice, because you wanted to. 

He smiled, taking his hand away, disappointing you a little bit but exciting you nonetheless. 

“Great.” He turned abruptly at the next intersection, and you giggled at the excitement he wore on his face.

“So, you were saying something happened at school today?”

----

“Grayson, where are we?” You stared intently out the window eyes roaming over the golden sand and the rocky terrain.

Grayson stepped out of the car, and walked around to your side, then pulled the door open.

“El Matador State Beach.” He held a hand out for you, and you took it so he could help you out of the car. He closed the door behind you. 

“You’re telling me you’ve never been here before?” You shook your head, eyeing the beautiful birds flying overhead.

“When did you move to LA again?” He began walking, and he gently pressed a hand to your back to guide you along. 

“My freshman year. So…” You looked at him, noticing that his hand still lingered. “Wow, I guess it’s been four years.”

“Four years and you’ve never come to this popular tourist spot?”

You rolled your eyes. “If it’s so popular where are all the people?”

“Most people tend to float towards Paradise Cove, or Manhattan Beach. You know, like your more conventional, Instagram-y kind of beaches.”

“Ah.” You liked the way the grainy sand crunched beneath your sneakers. The salty fresh air filled your lungs, emitting a sigh from you.The ultramarine-blue water was mesmerizing, and the waves playfully splashed up against the rocks. A large rock cliff faces lined the other side of the beach, the beautiful greenery tumbling over it really adding to the whole vibe of the place.

“C’mon.” Grayson gently grabbing your wrist brought your attention back to him, heating your face a bit as he tugged you closer to the shoreline towards an array of tall rocks jutting out of the shallow water.

“Up there?” You questioned quietly.

“It’s a great view from there,” He silently pleaded with you again, and you just couldn’t say no to him. The nod you gave him made a big smile grow on his face. 

“Careful,” He cautioned, helping you step up onto the smaller rocks down below, following close behind you. When the rocks started to jut out a bit more, you were warier with your steps, almost slipping. His arms came up to gently hold your waist, steadying you as you reached the flat surface at the top facing out towards the water.

You both sat down on the rock face, dangling your legs over the sides as you looked out over at the water. He was right, the view was spectacular. The sun shined beautifully at the water, it glistening as it came and washed up against the rocks, tickling both of your feet. It was beautiful. And it made it just that much better that you were sitting there with Grayson.

You looked over at him. He laid back on his hands, smiling wistfully to himself as his hazel eyes shined in the sunlight, calm and at peace. He was just as breathtaking as the rest of the view. 

You wanted this moment to last forever.

You bit your lip, that nagging voice becoming louder in your head again. Even if things were okay between you both, it didn’t resolve what happened last night. It didn’t feel right, and it was resting in a funny way in your stomach. And it made sense, you literally just walked into his home and then broke down in his arms a few hours later. You had scared him, and that was unfair, because you barely knew him. Yet you felt like it was more than that. You felt like you owed him something.

“I get panic attacks.” You blurted out. Grayson turned his head to you, tilting it questioningly.

“What?”

“I, um,” You cleared your throat. “Sometimes I get panic attacks, and they can sometimes lead to asthma attacks.”

His eyes widened. “So it is my fault that happened last night, isn’t it-”

“No!” You grabbed his arm. “No, I promise. It’s not your fault. I just wanted to tell you, because… well because I usually don’t collapse in people’s arms the first time I meet them.”

His eyes softened, and he chuckled. “I mean, it would be very memorable if you did.”

You smiled, darting your eyes away. 

“Do you… do you get panic attacks often?”

You turned to him with a somewhat uncomfortable look, which lead to him quickly following that up with “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I was just askin-”

“No, it’s okay.” You smiled at him reassuringly, and he returned it. “They’re not too frequent, but if I get really stressed or freaked out they can happen.” You fiddled with your fingers in your lap. “My asthma’s not actually that bad, it’s really just my panic attacks that make it a problem. I don’t usually have asthma attacks too, though-” You added hurriedly. “It’s just when I don’t have my inhaler it adds to the stress, you know?”

“Actually, yeah, kinda.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “I have asthma too.”

You opened your mouth in surprise. “Oh.”

He chuckled. “Yea. It’s not as bad as it used to be, but I always keep an extra inhaler in my car. Just in case.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s why I got a bit extra freaked out yesterday. I know what it’s like. It’s scary.”

“Yeah, it can be.” You gently pressed your head against his shoulder, effectively causing both of your faces to heat up. 

A few minutes passed by, just you and Grayson listening to the sounds of the ocean and the birds.

“Okay, so tell me.”

You lifted your head up to meet his eyes. “Tell you what?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Anything, everything.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him in confusion, and he chuckled nervously as he turned his body to face you, one leg folded on the rock, the other dangling over the side.

“You know, where you grew up, what you like to do… anything.” He smiled. “I wanna get to know you.”

You could feel that fuzzy feeling returning to your chest. “Um,” you started, tucking a hair behind your ear. “I’m not really that good at talking about myself. What do you wanna know?”

“Everything.” The look in his eyes was so genuine you were honestly scared of what he was asking.

You giggled nervously, “that’s not really specific, Grayson.”

He laughed. “Okay, how about I ask you questions then? But no matter what you have to answer it.”

“No matter what?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t know…”

“Ok, fine. But I’d really like it if you did tell me.”

You smiled. “Okay, ask me a question and we’ll see if I’ll answer.”

He bit the inside of his cheek as he smiled at you. He couldn’t get enough of you.

“Okay, um…” he rubbed his hands together as he thought. “Where'd you grow up?”

“New York.”

He waited for you to elaborate, but huffed when you didn’t. “Very specific.”

You giggled. “Sorry. Alright, um…” You turned your body so you were facing directly him. “I was born in Buffalo, and it was the only place I ever lived before coming to California. My family actually used to live in Toronto.”

“You’re Canadian?” He said a bit incredulously.

You scoffed. “Don’t act all offended.”

His face reddened. “No I wasn’t-”

You laughed. “I’m kidding. I’m not, but my parents and my sister are since they’re citizens. My sister was born in Canada, but my parents moved to Buffalo when she was around three for my mom’s work. Apparently my dad wasn’t too optimistic about the move, but…” You shrugged. “It happened. And then a while later I arrived, and we didn’t move since then. I’ve actually lived in the same house my whole life until Angela and I moved here.”

“Really.” Grayson tilted his head slightly, his eyes wandering your face. 

“What?”

“Nothing, just, seems like someone liked that wouldn’t just up and decide to move all the way across the country.”

You rolled your eyes. “Right, it’s not like you and Ethan didn’t move to LA when you were fourteen either.”

He chuckled. “Okay, fine. I’m assuming your parents are staying here with you and your sister...” 

You snorted. “Please. That is the last thing either of us would want.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at you. “And why’s that?”

You licked your lips. “No reason.”

“Y/N…”

“What? You know, two sisters, leaving for the City of Angels, who would want their parents here to spoil all the fun?” You chuckled awkwardly.

He raised an eyebrow at you now, and you knew he was calling your bluff.

You sighed, leaning back on your hand. “Okay, my parents aren’t really the best people.” You rubbed your arm gently, breathing out as you look out over the water.

A tingle went up your arm and down your back when you felt Grayson’s hand gently rest on yours. Your eyes went to his, and you saw that they were soft now. Understanding.

“You really don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s okay. I want to.” You breathed out again. “My parents are really conservative types, and we don’t really agree on most things.” Grayson nodded as you spoke. “And it’s never really been a big deal for the most part, since I’d just avoid talking to them, but…” 

You coughed. “Okay, so my sister has always wanted to be a chef or a baker or just something in the culinary industry.”

“Oh right I hear Cam saying something about her having to deliver a cake or something the other day.” His thumb was gently rubbing the back of your hand now. It seemed like he didn’t notice, since all his attention was focused on you, but for you, it was all you could think about.

“Y-yea. Well, originally, there wasn’t any plan of her ever getting into that sort of career.”

“Oh?”

“My parents wanted her to become a lawyer, like my dad. Sure, she wasn’t the hugest fan of it, but she was fine with doing what she loved in her spare time, so she was okay with majoring in Law.”

“So what was the problem?”

You sighed. “Well, Angela’s gay.”

Grayson’s eyes widened a bit. “Oh.” 

“I’m only telling you because she’s really open about it and you’d probably figure it out as soon as you met her anyways.” The wind kept blowing hair into your face, but Grayson brought a hand up to help brush it behind your ear. 

“...And because I trust you.”

His hand froze by your ear when he heard those words, and he tried to suppress the giddy smile that was very obviously growing on his face. You couldn’t help but return it, rolling your eyes as his hand fell away into his lap.

“I’m happy to hear that.” You nodded. “So… what happened?”

“Right well… Angie decided that she was going to come out to Mom and Dad. I told her it was a bad idea; not because of like- I mean it’s because it’s our parents. I know them and I knew how they would react, but she didn’t want to believe it. She, for some reason, was very believing that they would be supportive.”

“...But they weren’t.”

“Nope. I’ve really tried to block out the memory of that conversation; I told her that if she was going to tell them that I would at least have to be there. But it wasn’t great.” You bit your tongue gently. “They said that they wouldn’t have something so disgraceful living under their roof. They basically kicked her out of the house.”

“You don’t mean they literally-”

“Well in my opinion it would’ve been less embarrassing if they did. My mom actually slapped her across the face, and my dad has already gone downstairs to go get her a suitcase to pack her things.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I really wish I was.” Your voice had gotten softer now since you were trying to make sure it wouldn’t tremble when you spoke. “My mom then went off on some random tangent about how Angela was terrible and never even cared about her studies in the first place and it was probably because she was off somewhere tarnishing her name and- and when my dad got back he threw the suitcase at her and yelled at her to take all of her garbage with her.” Tears begin to prickle in your eyes. “That they didn’t want anything that would remind them of her.” 

“That’s so awful.” Grayson’s face looked pale, like someone had come and drained all the colour from his face. He was horrified that someone could ever do such a terrible thing to their own child.

“Yea.” You sniffled, bringing a hand up to rub your eyes. “And then I started yelling… I don’t even remember what I said, I was so mad.” The hatred you had for your parents was beginning to bubble up inside your chest again, after you had suppressed it for so long. “And before I knew it I was going to get my own suitcase too.”

Grayson’s mouth opened a bit. “That’s why you left?”

You laughed dryly, but there wasn’t any humour in it. “I wasn’t going to live in a house that didn’t love my sister for who she was. And I definitely wasn’t going to let her leave on her own. She’s too good for that.” Hot tears were now streaming down your face. 

“Y/N..” Grayson’s hand came up wipe the tears from your cheeks. 

You chuckled. “I’m sorry. You’ve known me for what, two days and you’ve already seen me cry twice.”

“Nope, try again.”

Your nose scrunched up. “Wha-” But then you realized you’d apologized to him. Again.

“Right, um…” You sniffled again. “Thank you for listening and… for caring.”

He smiled. “I’m always here.” You were going to bring your hands up to rub your eyes, but you finally realized that your hand and Graysons were now intertwined, gently resting on the surface of the rock. Grayson’s eyes followed yours, and the colour returned to both of your faces when you realized what you had both subconsciously done.

He chuckled. “So, um,” He rubbed the back of his neck. “So you guys just decided to come to LA after that?”

“Well, kind of, yea. After we got kicked out, we didn’t really have anywhere to go. Luckily Angela had some cash so we were able to stay at a hotel that night. We got to talking and she ended up just being like, fuck it, there’s no reason to keep doing Law since the only reason she was doing it was for our parents. And she knew that I’ve always wanted to go to Caltech, so…” You shrugged. “Here we are.”

Grayson shook his head, laughing.

You giggled. “What?”

“Nothing, I just..” He shrugged, laughing more. “I never knew.”

“Well yea, how could you?” He looked at you, the familiar softness in his eyes. “I mean, you just met me.” 

Your eyes widened when you realized that. “Wow, you’ve just met me, and I’ve told you more personal stuff than I think I’ve ever told anyone.”

“I guess I’m just lucky then.”

You giggled.

“So,” He said, looking out towards the sky. “Graduating soon. Excited?”

“Very.” 

“I bet that’s gonna be a fun day. But…” He turned his head towards you. “I guess your parents aren’t coming, are they.”

You shook your head. “I don’t think I’ve talked to them since last summer, so considering they didn’t get an invite… yea. Probably not.”

“Well, at least you’ll be able to spend that day with your sister.”

“Yea, well, no.”

“No?”

You sighed. “Angela booked a really big catering job for that day months in advance.”

Grayson’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? Did she not know?”

“She didn’t until I told her. She told me that she would cancel the job, but I told her not to. It’s a really good one and I know she’ll make a lot from it.”

Grayson’s jaw really did drop this time. “I can’t believe you.”

“What?” 

“It’s your graduation! You’re serious just going to be there by yourself?”

You shrugged. “She’s the only one I’d even want there. But the job is important. Besides, it’s not like I’ll be totally alone. All my friends will be there.”

“Yea, with their families.”

“Can you not ruin this for me?”

Grayson chuckled. “Okay, my bad. It is a really nice thing you’re doing, though.”

You rubbed your arm. “I’m not that much of a saint. She said we’d go out for ice cream when she gets home that day.”

Grayson laughed, and you smiled, letting go of his hand for a moment, emitting a soft sound from him in protest, but you just as quickly scooched over closer to him so your shoulders were touching, then reached for his hand again once more. He graciously took it, interlocking his fingers with yours as you laid your head on his shoulder. 

“Grayson?”

“Yea?”

“Thank you. For today.” He laid his head down on top of yours, and you smiled against his shoulder. 

“It was my pleasure.” He turned his head slightly to press a kiss to your head, then rested it back again. 

You inhaled the vanilla scent of Grayson mixed with the lazy water now sloshing below the two of you. The calmness washing over you was the best feeling. This was the most relaxed you had been in a long time.

Suddenly your phone vibrated in your pocket. You took it out to see that it was a text from your sister, asking where you were.

“Ugh.”  You sat up, shoving your phone back in your pocket, but making sure not to let go of Grayson’s hand.

“What is it?” His hair that had fallen into his face seemed to make him look even more gorgeous than usual.

“It’s Angela.”

“Shit, didn’t realize how long we’d been here, sorry-” 

You brought your other hand up to his face, pressing your index finger to his lips. “Hey, this is a two-way street. I shouldn’t be hearing any apologies either.”

He smiled against your finger, only nodding in response. You grinned, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek when you let your hand fall away.

“Okay, let’s go.” As Graysons stood, he gently pulled you up. The way down seemed even more precarious from the top, but Grayson made sure not to let go of the strong hold he had on your hand the entire way down. 

After you’d made your way down, you were ready to let go of his palm, but his grip only tightened when yours loosened, letting you know that he didn’t plan on letting go. You smiled to yourself as you both walked back towards the car, swinging your arms between each other.

…

“Y/N. We’re here.” 

You gently cracked your eyes open to see that you guys were parked outside your apartment building. Hastily going to wipe any drool off your face, you bent down to retrieve your bag from your feet.

“Sorry didn’t mean to fall aslee- “ You shook your head. “Thank you. For dropping me off.”

“I’m just glad I got to spend time with you today.” The look in his eye was so genuine, so gentle and sweet and loving all at once. You couldn’t get enough of those baby browns.

“Yeah. me too.” Your eyes darted down when you saw Grayson lick his lips. Unknowingly to you, he’d been darting his eyes back over to your sleeping face throughout the car ride, absolutely in love with your blissful, beautiful expression.

He leaned down closer to you, not too close to insinuate anything but close enough for you to know that he was wanting.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered in his gravelly voice, eyeing your soft lips.

You nodded, a small smile on your face as he leaned down, connecting his lips with yours.

The kiss was soft, knowing but cautious. It felt like the first kiss you both had shared, but this time the euphoric feeling felt more like a constant warmth throughout your entire body; it was familiar, no longer scary. You knew this, and you wanted this. He wasn’t a stranger anymore. 

You leaned in further, pressing your lips a bit firmer to his, knowing that he wouldn’t go any further without knowing you were okay. Your hands came up to find the neckline of his t-shirt, gently playing with it in your fingers as his hands floated towards your cheeks to cup your face. 

The feeling he gave you was unmatched to anything else you’d ever felt. But there was still something lurking in the back of your mind. Something shouting and screaming and yelling that you’re going to embarrass your self. You’re going to get hurt. You’re going to make a fool of yourself. Yelling at you to run, to hide, to get out-

You suddenly pulled away from Grayson, lowering your head gently.

“Y/N?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I-”

“I really mean it this time though. I am.” You looked up at him to see his worried and confused expression.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked, leaning away from you.

“No.. I just.” You put your head in your hands. “I’m scared, Gray.”

“Scared? Of what?”

“I don’t know, this. All of this.” 

He didn’t seem to understand.

You took on of his hands and held it in both of yours firmly. “Grayson, what happened yesterday, I-”

“We don’t have to do any of that stuff, I promise-”

“No that’s not it.” You exhaled. “It’s just- this is all so, so different and new and it’s exciting but- I don’t know if I can trust myself, Gray.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, what if I get a random panic attack again like yesterday? I don’t want to be fearing that all the time. I don’t want to have that thing in my head constantly warning me. Or to always be waiting for something to go wrong. It’s so scary.”

“But-”

“And there’s just so much going on; with school, and my sister, and god if Cameron found out-”

“You wouldn’t have to deal with her. I’d take care of it.”

“Gray.”

He stared at you with such an intense look, with so much longing and desire. 

What were you supposed to do? Of course you wanted him. You wanted him so badly, it was insane how much you did. But it was absolutely crazy to you. You’ve known him for two days. You didn’t know how these things worked. 

  And a part of you still didn’t believe it was true. That this boy sitting in front of you actually liked something about you, much less liked you as much as you liked him.You didn’t trust it. It didn’t make sense to you. How could it be possible? He was Grayson. You were you. 

 And the voice in your head kept telling you that there was no way this would work. You were so convinced that he would find something about you, or your life, or literally anything, and that would be it. He’d realize he was wrong. He’d realize that you weren’t what he wanted. Or he’d realize you were never what he wanted in the first place. Or worst of all; he wouldn’t find anything. One day he’d just realize that he didn’t want you anymore. He was done with you. It was also some illusion. He would leave. And you would lose him.

You couldn’t go through that again.

Grayson sighed, now taking your hands and holding them in his. “Yeah. okay.”

“I really am sorry.”

He shook his head. “Try again.”

“Grayson, I am.”

“Nope.”

“I-”

“Nooope.”

You both cracked a smile.

“Fine. Thank you for being so understanding.”

He brought your hands up to his lips and kissed your knuckles. “As long as we still get to hang out, I’m okay.”

You grinned. “I’m down for that.”

Your phone buzzed in your pocket again, and you checked to see it was another text from Angela. 

“Shit okay, I really should go.” You slung your backpack over your shoulder, and opened the door. Before you stepped out, you looked over at Grayson, who’s eyes were still following you. You bit your lip, then quickly bent forward to press a kiss to his cheek. 

You were only so strong.

He grinned as you scurried out of the car, shutting the door and waving to him as you ran into your apartment building.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

tags: @5secondsofcnco​ @yourkidsfavbabysitter​ @melodiesforari​ @coxxkaty​ @pumpkiinpasties​ @graysavant​ @joyrivh​

[trashystar420]

Babysitter Maribat AU AGE Reversed Chapter 2!

“I am very sorry for the delay, Ms. Dupain-Cheng, it is a pleasure to meet you” Bruce Wayne spoke. Marinette had to resist the urge to gap like a fish, because god damn, he hot. Selina definitely knows how to pick em. But due to her years of masking her own emotions with a smile, she responds back in kind.

“The pleasure is all mine, sir” and giving a knowing look to Selina, who rolled her eyes and gave one back.

“Just be sure to treat her right.” She warned playfully, but the venom was there. Selina had to cover herself, lest she burst into a fit of giggles, while the man she wrapped her arms around had to do a double take. Giving a dutiful nod, he starts to introduce his boys.

“This is my youngest son, Dick Grayson.” Mari had to refrain herself from cooing at the adorable kid before her. But the sparkle in her eyes was fully noted by everyone else, and they felt pity for her. ‘She won’t be thinking that for long.’ Bruce thought bitterly.

“My second youngest, Jason Todd.” Jason merely rolls his eyes at her, and Mari can’t help but give a knowing smile.

“My second oldest, Tim Drake.” Said boy was too busy on his phone, and barely acknowledges her. Giving a meek wave. Bruce and Alfred both gave dejected sighs at the rude behavior of the young teen. Damien rolled his eyes, and shakes the hand of his replacement.

“Damien, Damien Wayne” he answers, the Bluenette returns the handshake politely. And with some serious warnings from Bruce, and some recommendations on what to do and what NOT to do, and a lot of pulling on Selina’s part, Bruce reluctantly went. Once the mansion door closed chaos ensued.

“Think you can manage?” Damien asked haughtily. Mari simply rolled her eyes at him and walked towards the two troublemakers. Dick noticed first, and hid behind Jason. Jason made an intimidating face to the Bluenette. Mari gave a nod, knowing that the warning was received. After staring into the young boy’s blue eyes, the babysitter gave a warm smile. One that threw off the the troubled child.

“I know this might seem tedious, but how about we introduce ourselves again? I didn’t get to hear your voices.” She offered. Jason gave a guarded expression, while Dick reluctantly looked up at the Bluenette, still clutching his older brother. Damien could only watch the scene, completely confused as to what was going on, even Tim looked slightly apprehensive.

“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and I’ll be your babysitter” she outstretched her hand, offering a handshake to the two.” Jason looked at it wearily, but Dick took it first. ‘So cute’ she thought

“D-Dick Grayson” said boy answered timidly. That had Tim and Damien gap. It took Tim a week for Dick to even speak to him. For Damien it took a good year for Dick to gain the courage to look at him. A pang of jealousy went through the older boys. Alfred was shocked again, for the second time.

Giving a warm smile, she spoke.

“I really love your voice, Mr. Grayson, I hope to hear it more.” Dick blushed , but remained eye contact. Jason was smirking.

“And hello to you-“ Mari purposely pauses for Jason to say his name. Jason sighs, and playfully rolls his eyes at his new babysitter. However, that did not deter the young woman’s hand away. The boy reluctantly returned the handshake. Muttering his name, his eyes casted down.

“Jason Todd.” He meekly gave. Marinette has to RESIST the urge to hug out the two precious beans before her. It gets harder by the minute. Jason then pointed out the box she placed on a nearby table.

“What’s that?” He asked hopefully knowing the answer. Dick also noticed the box and was curious as well. Marinette gave another warm smile as she got up from her crouched position.

“How about I show you instead?” As she retrieve the box and opened it. The mansion was flooded with the sweet aromas of the mysterious French pastries. Strawberry, blueberry, chocolate, vanilla, and many more. It was a colorful batch of delicious looking goods. The boys all stared hungrily at the baked goods, wanting them soo badly, but refrained from taking them. Tim also looked hungry, while Damien scowled at the scene before him.

“What are those?” Dick meekly asked, while Jason nodded. She giggles again and responds in kind.

“These are called Macaroons. They are a dessert back in France. I didn’t know what kind of flavors you two liked, so I just made a bunch and hoped for the best.”

“T-t-those are f-f-for us!?!?” Jason pointed to himself and his baby bro. Marinette couldn’t help herself, she was laughing at their stunned faces. It was just soo fricken CUTE.

“Yes. Think of this as a bribe for you two to behave. And if it goes well, then I can come back again with even more treats.” Dick was clutching Jason’s jacket even tighter, while Jason was drooling like a dog. Afred sighed at their rude behavior. Tim was trying so hard not to laugh, while Damien was seething. Whoever this harlot was, is obviously using magic.

“Hey Alfred, is it ok if I can give them their treats now?” She asked, Alfred gave the nod.

“Thank you Alfred!!”

“You da best!!!”

...

...

...

“Do you think the mansion will stay in one place Selina?” The apprehensive bat asked, poking his medium done stake with a fancy fork. Selina rolled her eyes.

“Relax Bruce dear, my girl’s got this. If there is anything you need to know, it’s that Marinette Dupain-Cheng is not a quitter. Trust me, she’s even more stubborn than me.” Bruce still eyes her warily, but let’s out another sign. Selina felt bad for her lover, and put a reassuring hand on his.

“You need to destress a little dear. Say, how about we stay at my place for tonight?” Bruce perked up at the offer, and off the two went to do god knows what (ya I know what they do but do you?!).

...

...

...

...

“Wow Pixie-Bob you’re really good at this.” Jason complimented as he was beat yet again in ultimate Mecha strike three. Dick wanted to fight Mari next so the older bro gave the controller to him.

Damien had already left to the bat cave to let off some steam after the events that went on in the house. It was a miracle the house didn’t even burn down yet. Tim was also down there doing a real quick scan over the ungodly stack of papers,on another case in Killer Frost. The atmosphere was tense, until Tim spoke up first.

“What do you think of the babysitter, Demon Spawn” Demon spawn growled at the nickname, but gave his answer.

“A witch.”

“I am genuinely surprised she hasn’t been killed yet. And all those two are doing are playing video games!?!? Like NOrMAL kids!!!! How did she do that?”

Damien also wished to know how a stranger such as her, could lower the guards of his brothers when he’s spent years with them, and never seemed to get along with them.

He proceeds to cut another dummy into sixteen pieces with deathly accurate precision. Sheathing the blade, the older boy made his way to the costume racks.

“What are you doing?” Tim asked, already knowing the answer.

“ patrol” he answered. Tim sighed.

“Well try not to kill anyone demon spawn” he chided. Damien ignored him as he went off into the night as Robin.

...

...

...

“But Mari I wanna stay up longer!” Jason protested to the stern babysitter, already holding a sleepy Dick.

“No means no mister, what did we talk about with behaving?” Mari reminded him. Jason widened his eyes and pouted to the floor. The Bluenette made a sympathetic smile, and gingerly places a delicate finger on the chin of the child.

“How about a bed time story?” Jason practically jumped.

...

...

...

...

“I am terribly sorry if any of the boys gave you a difficult time” Alfred began, only to falter when the Bluenette giggles again.

“Don’t worry about it Alfred, the boys were absolute angels.” Now Alfred couldn’t help himself, try as he might, as he started to laugh at that. Marinette gave her farewells and went off into the night. Bruce returned the following morning.

A nervous knock, and Alfred answers the door.

“H-how much damage did they do, oh god I can’t look!” Bruce covered his eyes, wanting to deny the harsh reality that would come to him. However Alfred simply patted the man out of his breakdown.

“I assure you Master Bruce, the mansion is still in one piece, all thanks to Marinette.” Bruce gatherer the remaining courage he had and scanned the entire mansion. Not taking off his coat he ran to every nook and cranny. He checked every closet, only to find them all clean. He checked the bathrooms, bedrooms, hallways and dining halls. Going so far as to check under the rug to see if there were any hidden messes.

Nothing. The mansion stayed in one piece.

“The BATCAVE!!!!” He practically screeched as he bolted towards the supposed secret lair of his ‘secret’ vigilantie work. Only to find that it was neat. Everything was were it was supposed to be.

Feeling his knees go weak, he collapsed to the floor, not caring how he looked and laughed. He fricken laughs. As tears stream down his face. Tears of unbridled joy. The family butler offers him a handkerchief, the bat gladly accepting it.

“I believe a thank you card should be addressed to one Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Along with a rather generous tip, don’t you think?” Bruce was still crying, and only gave a nod. As if out of habit, the man summoned a blank check , signed his name and wrote $10,000 on it.

“Be sure to deliver this to Ms.Dupain Cheng for me Alfred. Make sure to include a gift along with a card as a part of my gratitude. If you will excuse me I need to make a phone call.” Bruce left to recollect his thoughts, while Alfred left with the check already on the task at hand.

Holy shit you guys chapter one was well recieved and I thank you all for reading, liking, and reblogging the shit out of it. I couldn’t wait I had to write chapter two to get it out of my system. You all really mean so much to me ahhhhh

@BlueRosette23

@novicevoice

@weird-pale-blonde-person

@theatrendcomicfreak

@Caffeinetheory

@liawinchester67

[im-whatchamccallit]

Their S/O Forgives Them For Cheating//ATEEZ

(A/N: This was supposed to be out at 8pm but my family got a new kitten and I’ve been dealing with it so here is my Angsteez reaction/scenario that it a bit unedited :^))

Trigger warning, just in case: self/bodily harm, cheating

Hongjoong

Despite your blank face, eyes dull and staring straight through Hongjoong’s kneeling form in front of the sofa where you sat, he was a wreck. You’ve seen him cry on many occasions, but never like this: eyes red and puffy with never ending tears staining his cheeks until they dripped from his chin, nose runny and lips trembling as he let out sobs with a barely coherent ‘I’m sorry’ between them.

You were conflicted. You could feel your eyes burning with the desire to cry while your chest tightened in a mixture of sadness and rage, but your mind was littered with questions, specifically what you could have possibly done wrong. Hongjoong was no better, mentally preparing for you to walk away from him for good, but wrapping his arms around your waist as he buried his face in your lap in hopes it’ll make you stay, knowing that possibility would be one in a million.

That is, until you spoke.

“I… I feel like I shouldn’t be with you if I’m not enough for you… But, after three years together, I just can’t see myself with anyone else.”

He thought you were crazy for even forgiving him, but he wasn’t going to take this second chance for granted. Scrambling to sit at your side without removing his arms from you, Hongjoong took a deep breath to finally speak to you properly.

“I don’t deserve you, at all, but I swear to you I’ll never fuck up like this again.”

Seonghwa

“What about him? Don’t you think he’s attractive?” Seonghwa said quietly to you, your body shrinking further into the bar’s booth, eyes following his hand to see a guy sitting just a few feet away. He was pretty cute, but nothing like Seonghwa.

You were uncomfortable being there, dressed like some heiress as your boyfriend tried to find someone for you to sleep with for the night. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t hurt by Seonghwa cheating on you for the past few weeks, you even went as far as to shatter his phone after finding the text messages, but did he really think you fucking someone else was the only solution? You loved him, which was more than obvious, so he should’ve known you’d never be able to willingly cheat with anyone.

“Seonghwa, I think I’m going to head home.” You said with a sigh, standing slowly to keep the already skin tight dress from exposing anymore of your body, Seonghwa following your lead as he eagerly rushed to your side.

“No! Baby, please, just pick anybody. It can be a kiss, you can fuck them in the middle of the room for all I care. I just need us to be even so we can put this behind us.”

You grimaced as you pushed past him and straight to the exit, ignoring the way he hurriedly ran after you and followed close behind as you walked down the street towards your shared apartment. Was he stupid or just insane? There was no “getting even” and, if he thought this was the only logical solution, you had to be the one to point out its flaws.

“(Y/n)-“

“You said anybody, right? Why don’t I just fuck San? Or Hongjoong?” You snapped, both of you coming to a stop as you turned to face him, his eyes wide at the question but jaw clenched in anger.

“That’s different. They’re like brothers to me.”

“So it would hurt you less if I fucked a complete stranger behind your back?”

The way he glanced away, trying to hide the rage he felt made you laugh bitterly.

“See, you don’t want me with anyone but you, yet made the stupid plan to choose someone I could sleep with to ease your guilty conscious.”

“If it’s with a stranger, it wouldn’t be as personal.”

“You cheated on me with a complete stranger and I took it very personal.”

Silence.

Finally, since this entire ordeal began, you watched as he broke down, his body shaking from ragged breathes and controlled sobs. Seonghwa took small steps towards you until your bodies were practically touching, his eyes finally meeting yours.

Seonghwa couldn’t stand the idea of you being with anyone else, but the hypocrisy of his actions made him put his pride aside just long enough for the idea to seem realistic enough. But now that you made it clear it was never going to work, he was back at square one: guilty, confused, and struggling for some kind of solution.

“I don’t know what you want me to do, or what I need to do, but I don’t want to lose you. I love you more than anything in this world. And I know I screwed up, but I’m willing to do anything because I need you, (Y/n/n).”

You couldn’t help but look away, eyes stinging with unshed tears as you realized you couldn’t keep up this façade any longer. No matter how angry you were, and how much you wanted to punish Seonghwa for what he’d done, you didn’t want to leave him either. And finally hearing some kind of remorse from him, was enough to make you drop the days long torture session.

“I wanted you to be honest and faithful to me. I love you to hell and back to the point that you have me wrapped around your finger, but I barely have any hold on you. And, even though I know you won’t ever be 100% mine, and that I can’t trust you as much as I used to, I can’t let you go either.”

You didn’t try to fight him off as he pulled you into a tight embrace, letting out a deep sigh of relief as he accepted your forgiveness, unsure of how he got so lucky after fucking up so bad.

Yunho

You had to admit, it felt like you were hit by a sledgehammer the way your eyes read over the Ateez groupchat, all of the boys shaming Yunho for sleeping with someone else, warning him that he had to tell you eventually. But it felt like a sledgehammer with spikes hit you as you stood before him, watching the gentle giant break down into loud sobs, the remorse on his face and lacing his voice causing your heart to ache.

Yunho wasn’t sure what got into him, or why he would do something so stupid, but he did it. It happened only two weeks ago but it played in his head every second of the day, tears forming in his eyes whenever you happily hugged him or told him how much you loved him. He felt like a monster.

“There’s nothing I can do to take back what I did, and I’m so sorry I was the one that did this to you. I don’t deserve to be with you. You deserve someone who won’t betray your trust.” You sighed as his large frame sank to the ground, kneeling at your feet with his forehead pressed to the wooden floor as he continued on with his apology.

“Yunho, stand up.” You said quietly, crouching slightly to grasp his arm and bring him back up, his tear stained face meeting yours immediately.

“You have to break up with me.” You wanted to roll your eyes, thinking he was a drama queen but you knew this was probably killing him inside, just as much as it was killing you. But, for some reason, you didn’t mind.

As soon as he was standing once more, you stood on your toes to cup his face, wiping a few stray tears before giving a soft smile.

“I’m not leaving you, but I’m not forgiving you right away either. We’re both feeling pretty shitty about it so why don’t we just talk this out before making any more decisions?”

In less than a second, you were consumed in a bear hug, your face being littered with random kisses and more tears. Your emotional giant of a boyfriend more than willing to take the opportunity to keep you with him.

Yeosang

“I’m so sorry.” Yeosang said, almost in an emotionless tone, but you can tell by the way his eyes glimmered he was holding back tears, tears he held since the very first time it happened three months ago.

It was a onetime thing, Yeosang knew that, but he slowly remembered she was a staff member for Ateez. Every time you’d come to visit him, his body would tense as she happily greeted you, secretly texting him that if you weren’t out of the picture, she’d tell you everything, so he beat her to it. But the silence you were giving him was making him rethink everything.

“(Y/n/n)…” He cautiously reached for your hand, shrinking away as you stood and headed towards the kitchen, his body instinctively following yours.

“You must be hungry. San told me you guys were learning a dance and it’s a lot difficult than usual so you barely take breaks.”

Your voice was steady and calm, almost as if you didn’t hear a word he said. But you were obviously out of it, grabbing ingredients that didn’t even go together and setting them on the counter. You felt Yeosang’s hand grab your wrist, stopping you from placing the bottle of paprika down.

“Baby, it’s 2 in the morning. We don’t need to eat. Can we sit back down and talk? Please?” His concerned stare was burning into the side of your face as you continued to look away from him, knowing that no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, he’d keep pressing to talk things through.

“You’re right, I think we should head to bed.”

His grip tightened as you tried to walk away, both of you slowly becoming more emotional as the seconds passed, your bottom lip being sucked into your mouth as you tried to hold back tears, Yeosang having a harder time to control his voice as he began to speak to you.

“Why won’t you just talk to me?” The slight crack in his voice was enough to make you breakdown, but you didn’t want to.

You wanted this day, this night, this very moment to end. Almost as if it never happened.

“I love you, Yeosang. I know you want to talk but I can’t. I just want us to go to bed and forget all of this happened. I don’t care if we’re both hurting right now, I just want to sleep and wake up and look at you as if you’re the same person I met two years ago. Please.”

Yeosang swallowed hard, knowing that no matter how simple of a solution it was, it would only continue to eat away at both of you, but he also wanted to forget about everything. He slowly let his hand slip from your wrist into your own, lacing your fingers together tightly.

“Y-yeah. Let’s go to bed.”

San

San was extremely passionate, and maybe that’s why everyone was attracted to him. Maybe while you were away for a family vacation, he met a girl who was just as passionate as him and that’s why he cheated on you. But you also knew San was a very emotional person, so you asked a simple question as he stood across from you near the bedroom door frame, teary eyes wide as a small ‘huh’ left his lips.

“Did you love her?” You repeated.

It was a simple question, and all you needed to know before determining if this relationship was something you wanted to continue. You felt a bit foolish for asking it, not wanting to seem too hopeful that he’d profess his undying love for you, to say you were the sun in his universe, especially now knowing your warmth wasn’t enough for him.

But San thought the question was absolutely ridiculous. He was head over heels in love with you, to the point that everyone in the company called him a lovesick puppy. He almost thought it was stupid that you’d assume he’d be in love with some random girl he slept with a month ago, but then he realized he was the stupid one for sleeping with her while being in love with you. He wasn’t a bad boyfriend but, at this point, the title fit him perfectly.

“The only person I’ve loved and still love is you. What I did was a mistake, and sleeping with her was a mistake, but I can never be in love with anyone else the way I’m in love with you.”

His voice was so strong and certain, it distracted you from the way he easily moved closer to you, his arms wrapping around your waist and forehead pressing against yours. You didn’t want to cave in too easily, but the way your arms wrapped around his neck habitually, you both knew he was forgiven, your face falling into the crook of his neck as he let out a small sigh.

“Everything I’ve done, I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

Mingi

When he finally told you about the one night stand, sobbing uncontrollably, you stood on your toes and held his face in your hands, saying a simple ‘I forgive you’. You have no clue how it could have spiraled out of control this way.

Mingi was never one to get loud or violent, but the way he progressively got angrier when you reassured him that everything was fine made him snap.

Was this your way of punishing? He wanted you to scream at him, slap him, tell him how much you hated him. Anything to make you see this wasn’t how relationships should be, but you didn’t. He cheated on you, something he promised he’d never do and, even though you had every right to be upset, you weren’t. But that couldn’t stop him from being angry with himself. His logic was long gone as he began to punch the brick wall of your apartment, small flecks of blood dripping down his knuckles as he continued to harm himself, your eyes wide as it finally set in that he wouldn’t stop any time soon.

“Mingi, stop!” Even though you cries fell onto deaf ears, you ran towards him, grabbing his arms and pulling as much as you could until you managed to move the giant.

“You’re supposed to be upset with me! I’m not supposed to treat you like this! No one is supposed to treat you like this! Why are you pretending like everything is okay when it’s not?!”

“But it is, Ming-“

“No, it’s not!”

You continued to watch him cry, your eyes drifting to his bruised fist and gently taking it into your hands to examine it, finally letting the situation sink in. You knew this wasn’t right, but you knew the man Mingi was, and you knew he would still be that man once you overcame this obstacle.

“Mingi, I feel like I was just stabbed in the heart one million times and set on fire. You cheated on me. But I know you’d never do it intentionally to hurt me. We’ve been together for only a few months, and so many mistakes could happen in that time, but couples always work through them. So why can’t we?”

Mingi would only be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t relieved you forgave him, but his infidelity would be engraved in his mind for as long as you were together.

Wooyoung

You were a mess, but Wooyoung wasn’t letting you walk out, even as you thrashed in his arms and hit him, screaming that you wanted to be alone.

He ignored his own tears and sobs as he begged you to stay by his side and talk to him, unsure of where you’d go once he released you. Wooyoung made the mistake of sleeping with someone else not even an hour ago, his senses coming back and guilt immediately consuming him. Although he thought telling you immediately would be best, he didn’t think you’d react like this.

“Get off!”

“Not until you calm down and talk to me!”

“I don’t want to be near you! Get the fuck off!” You were exhausted and slowly starting to give up, uneven pants escaping your lips as you sobbed harder, sinking into his arms as you finally settled down.

“What did I do wrong?”

The small words that croaked out of your throat shattered Wooyoung’s heart. You did nothing wrong, yet you were blaming yourself. If he knew you’d be putting the blame on yourself from all of this, he probably would have never told you.

Instead of responding, he slowly carried your bodies to the nearby sofa, sitting down and allowing you to curl into his lap, your face buried in his chest as his hand rubbed soothing circles on your back. It took some time, three hours to be exact, until you stopped crying, eyes blankly staring ahead as Wooyoung cleared his throat, not sure of where to begin.

“I know you’re mad at me,”

“I am.” The corner of his lips twitched slightly as he was glad to hear your voice.

“And I know things won’t be like they were before, but I just want us to be okay. You don’t have to forgive me right away, or at all, but I just don’t want to keeping going on as if I didn’t hurt you.”

You slowly pushed yourself up to look at him. You still looked beautiful to him despite the deep circles under your bloodshot eyes.

“I don’t know why you did it, Woo… And I don’t know why I still trust you either. But I think we can work through this. I want to work through this.”

Wooyoung’s body sank into the uncomfortable cushions in relief, holding you closer than before as he shut his exhausted eyes.

“Thank you.”

Jongho

You stared incredulously at Jongho as he spoke, unsure if he was serious or not as he admitted to his infidelities, the stoic expression he held almost inapplicable to his words. But whether you could see it or not, he was repentant. He could hear his voice breaking ever so slightly, his hands shaking as he replayed that night in his head over and over, a new wave of guilt and sadness washing over him as he felt the need to cry just as he did then. But he wanted to be the one to comfort you when hearing the news, not the other way around.

But you weren’t buying it.

“I can’t tell if you’re trying to piss me off or make me laugh, because we both know you’d never do something like that.” You chuckled.

“Why would I lie about this?!” And here was his breaking point.

You watched in shock as his dry eyes glossed over with tears, his lips trembling as he watched your expression go from shock to absolute horror.

“No…”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of it to happen and I don’t know what came over me! She came onto me but I can’t put all the blame on her because I went along with it. But I cried so much, (Y/n). I couldn’t stop thinking about you and how much I fucked this up and I have no idea what to do.” He confessed, taking a deep breath from his rant as he blinked away the few tears that haven’t fallen, the rest being sloppily wiped away by his palms.

You could only stare at him, unsure of what to feel as you took in his true demeanor. He was never like this so it was obviously true, but he was never the kind of person to cheat either. You were both confused, but not equally distraught. Jongho was so lost in his own head that he didn’t notice you approaching him, your fingers combing through his hair as he tried to cleanse his mind of how he destroyed a perfect year long relationship for a fling.

“I’m not sure who the guy that cheated on me was, but it wasn’t my Jongho.”

“How can you still joke after all of this?” He said with a weak laugh, causing a small smile to grace your face.

“Because, even though what you did was wrong, and I am hurt by it, seeing you like this just reminds that you’d never do it again.”

“Of course I won’t. I won’t be stupid next time.”

He sat up a bit more so that he could hug you properly, his head finding its place in your neck as he let out a small ‘I love you’, but you couldn’t find yourself to say it back. Not yet. And he could accept that.

[onewfantaesy]

His Mother’s Son (4/4)

The next morning, Taemin wakes up early with his mind set and a plan to put into action. He waits until his dad leaves for work and Jaeyoung leaves for his Saturday study group. He writes a note and leaves it on his pillow before sneaking downstairs and out the front door. A beanie is secure on his head, and a medical mask over his face. He takes a cab to the SHINee dorm, grinning the entire time he’s in the elevator. Taemin skips over to the familiar door, punches in the security code, and waltzes right through to the living room.

“Taemin? What are you doing here?” 

Taemin smiles when he hears Minho’s voice.

“I came to visit!” Taemin grins, sitting on the couch next to his friend.

“Are you…allowed to?” Minho asks curiously.

“They never said I couldn’t,”  Taemin says, a smirk on his face.

So for the next couple hours, he plays video games with Minho and Jonghyun, talks to Kibum, and makes Jinki help him with his singing. It’s been too long since the oldest helped him with his vocal training.

Meanwhile back at the Kim residence, Taemin’s mother was frantically searching the house for her youngest son. She asked both boys who were home if they had seen him, and both responded in the negative. She then called her husband and her oldest son, who also said the last they had seen him, he was asleep on his bed. She looked in the room, and there was no sign of her youngest even being in the house. She checked the backyard and the treehouse, and thought she was going to have a breakdown when she couldn’t find her baby.

“Mom, try calling Taesun. He might’ve gone to see him or something,” Jaekwon suggests, and she nods frantically as she reaches for the nearest phone.

“No, he isn’t here,” the other boy’s mother tells her. “Taesun might know, though, hold on.”

“Taesun, did Taemin tell you anything about going out today?” she asks her youngest, who’s eyes go wide. He knew his little brother would do something stupid, he just knew it.

“He said he wanted to go visit SHINee, but I don’t know if he meant he was going to do it today,” Taesun told her. “Why?”

“They can’t find him; they think he’s run away,” she says sadly.

“Tell her to try the SHINee dorm,” Taesun gives them the address, and Taemin’s mother makes her two sons who are home come with her, afraid of losing all of them.

“Hyung, I haven’t been able to practice my dancing at all,” Taemin whines as he holds onto Kibum desperately. “Will you please dance with me?”

“Fine, but make those two clear away their video games, or we’ll trip on something,” Kibum points at Minho and Jonghyun, and Taemin runs over to tell them to clean up.

“I haven’t danced in forever, so don’t complain,” Taemin says in a bossy tone when the two complain.

Kibum and Taemin are practicing their Do It Well performance when someone knocks at the door, but neither stops when Jinki opens it and three people come rushing inside.

Taemin’s mother stares in awe at her son’s back, watching him perform the dance moves smoothly and flawlessly. She had never really seen her son actually dance. He seems so happy.

But that didn’t excuse the fact that he ran away and nearly caused her to have a heart attack.

“Kim Jaehyun!” she shouts her son’s name, and he instantly falters and turns around quickly.

“Let me explain,” Taemin starts, but she doesn’t let him try to defend himself before she’s moving over to him and grabbing his arm to pull him out of the apartment.

“How do you think I felt when I wake up and my son isn’t home? When I search the entire house and the son who was missing for twelve years is nowhere to be found?” she shouts at him, and Taemin tries to get out of her grip.

“I just-“ Taemin tries to give an explanation, but she’s having none of it.

“No! I thought you ran away! I thought you had been taken away from me again!” she yells, dragging him across the living room to the door.

“I left a note!” Taemin yells back at her, angry.

“Where, because I certainly didn’t see one!” She’s angry because she thinks he’s just trying to get away with this little stunt.

“On my bed! I assumed that would be the first place you would look, considering I never leave my room!” he argues, trying to pull himself out of her surprisingly strong grip.

“Please let go, you’re hurting me,” Taemin pleads while he’s being dragged out of the dorm.

“Good, it will make you think next time before you decide to just waltz around Seoul on your own,” she nearly yells, and Taemin sends a desperate glance at his members before the door is closed and he’s being led to the car.

He’s practically thrown into the backseat before she drives off furiously, and Jaesung’s snickering at him and Jaekwon looks disappointed. Taemin has no allies in this car, and he knows it.

The second he gets home, he’s told that he’s grounded, and he can’t go out unless it’s for school while also not being allowed to contact SHINee. He runs into his room the second she's is done yelling at him, and he fills two bags full of everything he needs before he’s running downstairs into the kitchen. He fills the second bag full of snacks and juice boxes and water bottles, and he hurries outside to the tree house. He lugs his bags up the ladder, throwing them in once he’s close enough before climbing in himself. He places a blanket over the entrance hole, and places a few bricks that are in the corner of the tree house on the sides so no one can move it but him. This tree house is his safe place, and now no one else can come in.

An hour later she's is yelling for him, and he doesn’t dignify her shouting with a response. He thought she was finally calling him Taemin, but then after today, he thinks he’s back to step one.

“He went into the tree house, mom. Just leave him alone for a little while,” Jaekwon says, feeling bad for his little brother. They haven’t exactly been best friends, but he also doesn’t like seeing the boy so completely upset.

“He can’t just run away, Jaekwon. Go get him,” she orders her second oldest, who rolls his eyes but follows her command, nevertheless.

He can’t exactly get up into said tree house due to the fact that a certain little brother apparently blocking the entrance.

“Jaehyun? Mom wants you to come inside,” he tells his little brother, but he isn’t given any response.

He wracks his brain for a moment before something clicks, “Taemin?”

There’s a moment of silence before a soft, “Yes?” is spoken from the tree house.

Jaekwon sighs in relief, “Mom wants you to come inside, Taemin.”

“Well I don’t want to,” Taemin says stubbornly.

“She’s just gonna get even more angry with you,” Jaekwon tries to reason with the youngest.

“I don’t care.” The short response makes Jaekwon a little angry, but he reminds himself that this kid is probably feeling emotions that Jaekwon can’t even imagine right now.

“Do you want me to tell Jaeyoung this is where you are when he gets home?” Jaekwon asks, knowing that the youngest is closest with the oldest.

“Yes, please,” the response comes after a moment of hesitation, and Jaekwon sighs before heading back inside.

“I’ll tell mom you’re gonna wait ‘til Jaeyoung comes home to come down,” he calls to the youngest, and he isn’t given a response, so he goes back inside.

An hour later, Jaeyoung arrives home, worried about his little brother and instantly heading towards the backyard.

“Tell him to come inside, Jaeyoung. This little tantrum of his is not cute.” 

He rolls his eyes at his mother, and he closes the back door before he talks to the youngest.

“Taemin, can I come up?” Jaeyoung asks.

“Is anyone with you?” Taemin asks hesitantly.

“No, it’s just me,” Jaeyoung promises, and slowly, the blanket is being moved from the entrance, and Jayoung climbs up.

“So, how long are you planning on spending camped out up here?” Jaeyoung asks when he sees the two bags in the corner.

“If I ration my food, I have enough to stay up here for at least a week,” Taemin tells him confidently.

“What happens when you have to go to the bathroom? Or to school?” Jaeyoung asks, knowingly.

Taemin bites his lip and looks at the bags with his eyebrows furrowed, “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Please, come inside,” Jaeyoung holds his hand out.

“No, she’s just gonna get even more angry at me,” Taemin pouts, backing up against the wall.

“She’s upset,” Jaeyoung tries to reason.

“Well so am I,” The younger holds onto his upper left arm, and Jaeyoung looks at it curiously.

“Why?” he asks.

“I just wanted to see them, and I knew she wouldn’t let me,” the younger starts. “I left a note though, I did! It’s not my fault she didn’t find it!”

“Taemin, you have to understand-“

“No, she has to understand! My whole life just got turned upside down! I have to call people mom and dad even though they don’t feel like my mom and dad! My parents are rotting in a jail cell and I can’t even ask them why!” Taemin bites his lip, refusing to cry. “And if I can ask them, there’s no way she’ll let me!”

“Taemin-“

“I just wanna know why they did it,” Taemin chokes out. “Please, I need to know why they did it.”

“If that’s what you want.” 

Taemin’s head turns so fast, Jaeyoung is afraid he’ll get whiplash.

They both stare at their mother, who quietly ascended the ladder and sat on the other side of the tree house.

“What?” Taemin asks airily, like all the wind just got knocked out of him.

“If you want to see them, you can. But I don’t want you to go by yourself, so I’ll see if…if Taesun can go with you.” She tries to smile at him, and Taemin can’t stop himself from hurrying over and hugging her.

“Thank you,” he breathes out, and he holds onto her tightly.

That week at school is the hardest for Taemin yet. He gets pushed around at lunch, paper balls and eraser bits thrown at him during class, and people calling him names whether he answers a question right or not. And it makes him angry that, despite Jaesung having apologized for the way he acted before, his brother hasn’t done anything to stop it.

That weekend, his father drives all of them to the prison Taemin and Taesun’s kidnappers are at. They arranged for the boys to get to talk with them, but their families would be by them the whole time.

Taemin wanted to laugh when he saw that Jaesung looked scared.

That was how Taemin and Taesun came to enter the small area where they were to sit with their kidnappers, two guards at the door and their families waiting behind the barred area. The couple were already sitting at the table when the two families entered the area.

When the two brothers enter the area, Taemin bites his lip at the sight of the two.

“Mom,” he starts. “Mommy.”

He tries to hurry over, but Taesun holds onto him to guide him slowly to the table.

“You always were a mama’s boy, weren’t you, sweetie?” the woman smiles sadly at him, and the two brothers don’t really know how to react.

Taemin can hear his real mother, and it sounds like she’s crying. Taemin doesn’t want to look, because he knows it’s his fault.

“Mommy,” Taemin chokes out, and then he notices their hands. “Why are they handcuffed?”

Taemin turns to glare at the guards, but Taesun moves to make Taemin look back at the table, “Taemin, you have to remember why we’re here; why all of us are here.”

Taesun turns a hard stare at the two kidnappers and asks, “Why?” When the two don’t answer right away, he grows angry. “Why did you do this to us? You told us every day that you loved us, was that a lie? Is everything a lie?”

“My birthday was a lie,” Taemin says quietly.

“We didn’t know exactly how old you were, Taemin,” their father tries to reason, and suddenly Taemin’s angry.

“Because you kidnapped me!” Taemin yells, and he hears a couple people gasp behind him.

It’s the first time he admits that he was kidnapped.

“Why did you do it? We need to know; we deserve to know. You at least owe us that,” Taesun says.

“It’s a long story, boys,” their father says, and Taesun glares.

“Well we aren’t going anywhere until you tell us.”

“The real…” their mother starts, pausing to look at the ground. “The real Taesun and Taemin died in a car crash, two years before we…took you into our home, Taesun.”

Taemin again feels like the whole world is crashing around him, “We were…we were replacements?”

The question is quiet, but he feels like the entire prison could hear him, it was so quiet in here.

“In a way…yes,” the woman answers, and Taemin feels sick.

“You even - you gave us their names?” Taesun lets out a shaky breath, staring at the two.

“We did,” the man answers.

“Why?” the youngest asks.

“I needed my babies back,” the woman looks like she’s about to cry. “Those, those other women had other children. They had other babies to fill the void. Both of mine were gone, and they couldn’t ever come back to me.”

“The real Taesun would have been your age,” The man said as he looked at the older boy, “And the real Taemin would have been about your age.”

“Why not just have more of your own kids? Why’d you have to take other people’s kids away from them?” Taemin wants to yell.

“We tried, and we were told we couldn’t,” she says sadly.

“Then adopt! Get a dog, do something, but don’t take other people’s kids!” Taemin yells at her, and he feels conflicted because he feels like he’s both yelling at his mom and a total stranger at the same time.

This woman isn’t the mother that raised him. This is someone who’s sick; someone who’s suffered more than she should have, and dealt with it in the completely wrong way. These two people aren’t his parents, they’re two people who need help.

So when the woman reaches out to touch Taemin’s face, he flinches back, rising from his chair quickly.

“Where’s my mom?” Taemin asks quietly, his voice shaking. “I want my mom, where’s my mom?”

Taemin turns around, tears falling down his cheeks, “Mom? Mommy, I wanna go home.”

He hurries to his real mother, and he holds onto her tightly while he whimpers and she runs her fingers through his hair, “Mommy, I wanna go home. I don’t wanna be here anymore, please, I wanna go home.”

He sits in the back seat with his mother on the ride home, and he doesn’t let go of her the whole trip. He feels like he’s in that weird fog again, because his family keeps talking, but he feels like he can’t hear them. All he knows is that he wants to be close by his mother, so he makes sure he doesn’t let go of her.

He doesn’t notice the sad yet relieved smile on her face as she holds onto him.

Later that evening, he sits on the couch with his mother while they stare at the television. He hardly notices the rest of the family move about, because he just wants to be with his mother.

“I was just a replacement,” he mumbles, and it’s the first thing he’s said since they left the prison.

“It’s okay, baby, you’re home now,” she tells him, carding her fingers through his hair.

“I was a replacement…for a little baby who’s dead,” he can’t seem to wrap his mind around it, he just knows it makes him feel sick.

“They need help, sweetie. They weren’t in their right minds when they took the two of you,” she holds onto him tightly, and the two sit together well into the night.

He feels like he doesn’t know who he is anymore. The real Lee Taemin has been dead for many years, and he doesn’t know who Kim Jaehyun is, other than the fact that he was kidnapped when he was two. He feels like a face without a name.

He doesn’t know who he is anymore.

He doesn’t even know who is mother is; what she likes, what her favorite color is, what makes her happy.

“What’s your favorite color?” he asks his mother while they sit together.

“Pink,” she answers, smiling at him. “What’s yours?”

“White,” he responds. “Like the clouds.”

He remembers practicing on the rooftop of the SM building with Jinki, and they used to sing to the clouds.

“Do you like to watch the clouds?” she asks, running her fingers through his hair.

“Jinki hyung would practice singing with me on top of the SM building. Sometimes we watched the clouds,” he tells her.

They’re silent for a moment, “Mom?”

“Yes, sweetie?” she smiles, resting her head on top of his.

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” he admits to her.

“You’re my son. You like dancing, and the color white, and singing to the clouds,” she tells him. “You’re my son, and that’s all that matters.”

“But what’s my name?” he asks, holding onto the arm that’s wrapped around his middle.

“Your name is Kim Jaehyun, and I love you very much,” she tells him, kissing the top of his head.

“I love you, too,” Jaehyun whispers.

On his way home from school the next day, he stops by the flower shop and buys the prettiest bunch of pink lilies. Jaehyun puts them on the kitchen counter, so his mom will see it when she gets home.

These were the prettiest ones. They reminded me of you. 

She reads the note when she gets home, and the smile on her face is the widest it’s been in a long time.

School is still hard for Jaehyun, though, especially when he asks his teacher to start calling him by his birth name. Some of the other students started making fun of him, saying he had split personalities, or that he was just too dumb to know his own name. He thinks Jaesung might have tried to stick up for him, but if he did, his brother didn’t do a very good job of it. Things still got thrown at him during class, people still tripped him at lunch, and he swears the only friend he has is the girl who sits next to him, but even she won’t sit with him during their breaks.

After a whole month of being stuck in that personal hell, his parents give him a shocking opportunity.

“If you want, you can go to an arts school,” they tell him one night at dinner, and his eyes go wide.

“Also, we’ve decided that you can join SHINee again. We already called the company, and we’ll be going tomorrow so you can sign a new contract,” his mother tells him, smiling at him.

“Thank you,” he breathes out, hugging her instantly.

“You might want to pack your things tonight, because your manager said you should move back into the dorm as soon as possible,” his father tells him, and Jaehyun’s grinning.

As soon as dinner is over, he runs into his room and starts packing his things up. Halfway through his hectic packing, Jaesung walks in and asks if he can talk to his brother.

“Sure,” Jaehyun sits on the bed next his brother.

“I just, I wanted to apologize. For the way I’ve been,” the older boy tells his little brother. “It’s just, after you went missing, I became the youngest again. I felt like she was using me to replace you for a really long time, and then when you said you were a replacement for the kid they lost, I guess it sort of hit me that, in a way, we’re kind of in the same boat.”

He smiles tightly at his little brother, “Don’t get me wrong, you’re situation was definitely more screwed up than mine, but still.”

“Thanks,” Jaehyun smiles. “So you don’t hate me?”

“No, I don’t. I’m really glad to have my little brother back,” Jaesung laughs, half hugging his brother awkwardly.

Jaehyun’s glad he finally made up with his brother.

He also realized that Jaekwon acts indifferently to most people, and he learned not to take it personally.

Two months later, SHINee is having a comeback, and it’s a song Jonghyun wrote. Jaehyun’s hair is a reddish-brown now, and he remembers laughing at his mother’s reaction to it.

He also goes by Kim Jaehyun now. Because he’s Kim Jaehyun, and he likes the color white, and he likes to dance, and sing to the clouds. He’s the lead dancer in SHINee, and the little brother to a lot of different boys, not just the ones he’s related to. He’s also his father’s son, and Jongin’s best friend.

But most importantly, he’s his mother’s son, and that’s all that matters.

[darlinvandijk]

Phone Call

Concept: a request where you’re really missing Ruel and really sad/not doing well and he calls and just comforts you and makes it all cute (aka just really fluffy Ruel because hes an angel and we all know it). just like usual send me a dm for a request and whatnot and I’ll be happy to comply (btw this is long as fuck so I apologize) Hope you enjoy :)

Today marks 3 months since the last time I saw Ruel, or at least the last time I saw him in person. He’s on his world tour, but I wasn’t able to go with him like planned, since I had too much school work that I’d need to do, and knowing us we’d never make time for me to actually do it if I went.

So that’s where everything has led up to me at this exact moment, where I’m justsitting in my room after a long day of just everything going wrong, like call me dramatic but today has literally been the absolute worst. I got a D on my sociology test, dropped my tea getting out of the car this morning, got sharpie on the sleeve of my favorite white hoodie, and worst of all just missing my favorite boy more than ever today.

I pull my blankets tighter around my body, trying my hardest to not let my emotions get to me, because I know today wasn’t as bad as it seemed, I’m just a little touchy today making everything seem worse than usual. I let out a choked sob as I feel the tears start to make their way down my face, knowing that there’s no way to get out of the complete mess I’m about to become.

Right as I breakdown, I hear the ping of my phone, alerting me that I got a text. Guess who it is, oh wait we all know it’s the giant oaf I call my boyfriend.

Hey baby, I miss you a lot and thought I’d let you know Hi bubs, I miss you too, what’re you up to? In my hotel room, finished everything I needed for the day so all I have left is soundcheck and the concert tmw Excited for the Paris show? Mhmm, enough about me, I want to talk about you Eh nothing exciting, pretty boring day today. Are you okay love? You seem a little off I’m okay, just tired that’s all

As soon as I send that text, my screen lights up with an incoming phone call. I give myself a few seconds, trying to contain the sobs and tears so that Ruel doesn’t notice, he doesn’t need the extra stress of worrying about me. As soon as I pick up, he’s already talking and throwing questions at me.

“Baby what’s going on? I know you’re lying to me, just because I can’t see you, doesn’t mean I can’t tell. Are you okay? Did something happen? Do I need to fly down or fly you out here? Baby-“ Ruel rambles with anxiety lacing his voice, causing the tears I was holding at bay, to be released. I let out a small whimper as the tears pour out, instantly causing him to stop talking and cut off his sentence.

“I’m sorry, I’m honestly okay, just a little emotional today” I mumble out, not able to talk loud with my voice shaking so much. I hear him let out a sigh before he starts talking.

“Babygirl, tell me the truth. I know it’s more than just that, please talk to me baby. I can’t help you if you don’t let me.” He pleads, knowing that I’m never like this, even if I am emotional sometimes.

“I just really miss you, it’s been three months, and today was just horrible. Nothing went right for me Ruel. I basically failed my soc test, dropped my drink everywhere this morning, and then I got fucking sharpie on your white hoodie. You know it’s my favorite” I cry out, finally letting all my emotions out, knowing he’s the only one that’ll truly be able to talk me down from my breakdown.

“Baby, you can retake the test, one test won’t ruin your life, you’re too smart to let something like that fuck you up. I’ll send you money to get a new drink tomorrow if that helps, and babe it’s just a hoodie. I’ll buy you 50 more of that exact hoodie if it’ll make you happy.” He states, trying to reason with me to make me feel better. I let out a whimper, because none of those things are going to make me happy. I just want my boyfriend back.

“I don’t want any of those things ruel!” I sob, causing him to take in a deep breath, finally realizing what the source of the issue was. He gives me a few seconds to calm my breathing before asking me a question.

“Then what do you want princess? Name it and I’ll make it happen, I promise.” He states with so much conviction in his voice, that I almost believe it.

“I want you. I want you back home with me. I don’t want more hoodies because I want yours, I want the ones that smell like you and have all the tears and stains because you always seem to trip or spill something on them. I just want you.” I whisper out, feeling completely broken for the first time when it comes to having a part time long distance relationship.

I hear him let out a sound of distress before the call hangs up. I stare at my phone in shock, not able to comprehend that he just hung up on me. Before I can lose it, I get an incoming FaceTime call. I answer it while pulling the blankets over me so that he can barely see me, as I set my phone up against my side table, so that I don’t have to hold it while talking to him.

Ruel sits there, with his phone in a similar position, letting him just lean back and watch me. I see the slight crease between his eyebrows, letting me know he’s stressed out because of this.

“Hi baby, I wanted to see that pretty face of yours, but I can only do that if you move the blankets.” He says with a small smile on his face, causing me to rapidly shake my head, really not wanting him to see me like this.

“I look ugly. My eyes are probably puffy and my face is splotchy from crying. Like I’m literally still crying, so I don’t want you to see me” I whisper back, feeling completely insecure, even though he has seen me cry countless times over the length of our 2 year relationship.

“First of all, you’re never ugly. I don’t care if you go bald and even lose your eyebrows, you’ll still be the prettiest girl in the world. Let me see that beautiful face of yours, or I might just lose my mind” He says, trying to joke with me to make me feel better. I let out a quiet laugh at how dramatic he’s being, causing him to instantly breakout in a grin, knowing he’s finally reaching me.

I pull down the blankets from around my head, causing him to just watch me, with a look of awe on his face. He looks at my slightly puffy and red rimmed eyes, my hair that’s in a messy falling apart bun, and the red splotches around my face from crying so much. He also takes in the tear streaks that are going down my face, still managing to think that I’m the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid his eyes on.

“Fuck you’re gorgeous” He says with a lovestruck grin on his face. I immediately roll my eyes and try to cover my face, hoping he doesn’t notice the way my face turns red from his compliments.

“Shut up Rueloff, you’re just saying that to make me feel better” I retort, making him lean back with a hand over his heart like I shot him.

“Excuse me baby, I don’t lie. You’re fucking beautiful, like I have the hottest girlfriend in the world if I’m being blunt about it.” He laughs with a boyish smile on his face, causing me to throw my head back with a laugh. Loving the way he looks at me, with that little twinkle in his eye.

“I miss you. I really miss you, please come back” I mumble with a small sad smile taking over my face. I see him straighten up from my change in mood, before he tilts his head to the side and gives me a small loving smile.

“I’ll be back before you know it. I miss you more than anything baby, I have an idea but I’ll tell you about it soon, I just need to talk to Nate and figure some things out.” He mumbles with a smirk on his face, letting me know he’s up to something.

“Okay, I can’t wait to hear about this idea of yours” I laugh out, trying my hardest to ignore the way he’s looking at. I see his eyes shift down to the hoodie I’m wearing, since the blanket fell off my shoulders.

“Baby you can barely even see the sharpie on the sleeve, but don’t worry I got about 3 hoodies here that I’ll make sure you get, smell just like me and one of them even has some mystery stain on it” He says with a big smile causing me to snort at the fact that he’s such a mess.

“Ew bubs, you can keep the mystery stain one.” I say watching him glare at me, for laughing about his dirty hoodie. He looks me over again and just smiles. I look down and play with my fingers, not liking how intense his gaze is.

“I love you” he says, with the biggest smile on his face. I look up at him and slightly tear up again as I just stare and wonder how I got such a beautiful person to love me and all my faults.

“I love you too, more than anything.” I reply with as much love as possible, hoping he can hear and feel how much I truly feel for him. He gives me a breathtaking smile, before turning a cute shade of pink from blushing.

“Stooop you’re making me blush” he whines out, trying to give me a glare but ruining the act by laughing. I smile at him as I watch the way his eyes light up as he laughs, the way he tilts his head to laugh but watch me at the same time, the way he looks at me like he’s seeing me for the first time.

We talk for another hour or so before hanging up since he had to go and get food, because Nate told him no more room service. I sigh a little bit once we end the call, before realizing I’ll be okay, a little distance for a bit won’t hurt us.

Two weeks pass by before I get a phone call from Ruel, I stare at the screen with a perplexed look, considering we just got off the phone an hour ago. We talk every single day, but he’s never called me before without sending a text first to make sure I’m not doing anything, I start to get nervous thinking it’s an emergency.

“Hello? Ruel are you okay?” I instantly spew out with anxiety lacing my time before he can even get a word in. I hear him start laughing on the other end of the receiver before hearing Nate yell at him to hurry up.

“Haha babygirl, calm down. I’m okay and I’m not hurt. I can finally tell you the idea I had, well not an idea anymore since I made it reality.” He says, I can literally hear the smirk in his voice, instantly causing me to roll my eyes at his cocky tone.

“Okay Rueloff, what’s this amazing plan that you have?” I sassily reply. I hear him start snickering, causing me to become weary since Ruel only has that laugh when he’s about to do something crazy.

“Ohhh babygirl I don’t think you’re ready, are you ready? Like really ready? Like positively ready? I don’t think you are” he basically sings out, with pure excitement filling his voice. I feel myself getting filled with anticipation on what my crackhead boyfriend is about to do. Before I can even reply to him to shut up and tell me, my phone gets an alert.

“Look at the text” He basically screeches out, causing my to fumble and put him on speaker so I can still hear him as I check the message. What I see leaves me shell shocked, I was expecting a new collab with an artist I love, not him to completely go all out.

“Oh my god Ruel what” I choke out with tears pouring down my face, a few sobs coming out from the overwhelming emotions I have running through me.

“That’s your boarding pass for tomorrow, see you in Norway baby” He shouts, his voice wavering, letting me know this gap of not seeing each other and finally getting to reunite is affecting him as much as it’s affecting me.

That’s how a little over 24 hours later, I end up falling asleep in the arms of my beautiful boyfriend. Listening to his quiet breaths as he holds me as tight as he can. Feeling his soft skin and taking in the moment, the moment where I truly got to feel whole again. I finally drift off, hearing the quiet “I love you” and feeling the soft kiss to my temple, letting me know I’m back where I’m supposed to be, with my soulmate.

[bittersweetmelxdy]

i'm really enjoying reading your headcanons so far ^^ so if its not too much trouble would you mind writing headcanons for the bois and an mc going into labor while their at work or something? ( i imagine minor and eli would probably have to physically hold gavin back from bursting into the emergency room XD)

Victor:

He had dropped you off at work, with strict instructions for your staff to call him if anything happens.

Now when he said that he expected just a call if you got too emotional and needed a phone call to calm you down (for some reason you had started to get severe separation anxiety from him as the due date drew closer).

What he did not expect was halfway through a meeting with the LFG shareholders, Goldman burst into the room breathless and just yelled, “Sir, she’s gone into labour!”  

Victor felt his mind freeze, his brain just stopped functioning, he stood up abruptly, and said, “We’ll have to postpone the meeting from here.” before leaving, striding purposefully out of the room back to his office, where he grabbed his coat and left, Goldman already cancelling the rest of his meetings and appointments for the day.

Spent the whole drive to the hospital gripping the steering wheel with a vice-like grip, knuckles white with tension.

When he got there, he had to wait outside, and you had already gone into labour.

Spent the hours, extremely restless, pacing back and forth, sitting down then standing up, if your colleagues weren’t as nervous as him, they would’ve found it hilarious.

When the doctor came out to say you were okay, Victor didn’t even wait to hear whether it was a boy or a girl, he pushed past the doctor into the room, hellbent of seeing his wife.

When he saw you, sweating from exertion and physically drained he was floored, he approached you carefully, before leaning over to place a soft kiss on your forehead, smiling down at you

“Dummy, you scared me half to death.” he scolded, but his tone was so affectionate and soft.

“Sorry, Victor, she just couldn’t wait to meet us.” you said tiredly.

“She?”

“Yeah,” you smiled as the nurses reappeared with your baby in their arms, having just come back from cleaning her, “Our baby girl.”

“Would you like to hold her, Sir?” the nurse asked, and Victor nodded slowly.

He sat down on the edge of the bed next to you, and the nurses placed the bundle carefully into his arms, the baby blinked up her eyes and Victor, then started to cry. He shushed her, rocking her gently in his arms til she settled and just stared up at him.

“Hello.” he breathed, “I’m glad to finally meet you.”

Lucien:

To be honest, Lucien missed the birth.

He was swamped in research recently and when he gets in the zone, he kinda forgets his surroundings, so when the call comes in that you’ve gone into labour, he didn’t hear when the phone rang as it wasn’t on his person, so all your phone calls went straight to voicmail.

You can’t blame him (it’s a rule, you can’t have your phone in a lab, I would know I have two labs a week), so when his experiment was finally over and he had tidied everything up, that’s when he checked his phone.

And saw you had left 6 voicemails, he listened to every one as he made his way to his car, his nerves increasing, as he heard your breathing become more laboured over the phone, as you relayed to him, “We’re in Loveland hospital, we’ll be waiting for you so be safe, love you.”.

At a red light he put his head against the steering wheel and sighed audibly, you were in immense pain right now, and you were still thinking of him. Smiling tightly, he straightens and tapped the steering wheel impatiently as he waited for the light to change.

When he arrived at the hospital, he was very much calm on the outside but frayed nerves on the inside. Especially when the nurses told him that the both the baby and the mother were safe, he had missed the birth, his heart sank.

Hesitated outside the ward room for a few minutes, wondering whether to go in or not, when the door slid open and Anna smiled up at him before saying over her shoulder, “On second thoughts Boss, I’m heading back to the office, your husband’s here to look after you now.”. Anna breezed past him, offering a happy congratulations to him and Lucien watched her leave, before collecting his wits and stepping into the hospital room.

You lay on the bed, completely drained, rosy cheeks, and you beamed tiredly up at him from where you lay, holding out a hand towards him.

Lucien walked towards you, taking your hand in both of his and kissing your knuckles firmly, “Listen Y/N I’m-”

“Don’t worry Lucien, you’re here now and that’s all that matters, plus your daughter’s been waiting to meet you.”

Lucien pressed a light kiss on your lips before moving to the crib at the side of the room, he looked at your quizzically, and you nodded slightly, Lucien then carefully picked up the baby and watched her in wonder, as she opened her eyes at him, and he choked back a gasp seeing she had his eyes, his mind bringing back the memory of the two of you in the kitchen.

You laughed lightly, breaking his spell, and he looked over at you, “She has your eyes.” you smiled lovingly at him and Lucien placed the baby back in the crib and stroked her cheek lightly, saying quietly before moving back to hug you tightly,  

“Hello little butterfly welcome to the world.”

Kiro:

Kiro was filming all day today, but you know he wouldn’t let you be further than 10 metres from him, took him so long to convince Savin to take you with him (read: Savin realising that Kiro wasn’t going to give up on this, decided it wasn’t worth the trouble to argue with him and agreed.)

Kiro spent all the time he wasn’t on camera, fussing over you, making sure you were comfortable and well looked after by the staff whilst he was gone. The Behind the Scenes footage of Kiro the doting husband is going to give his fans a heart attack, the staff joked to you.

Then you were just waiting for Kiro, standing on the side of the set when a sharp pain shot through your abdomen. You clutched your stomach, and the staff around you, knowing the circumstances immediately led you to sit down on a sofa, the commotion caught the attention of Kiro, he ran off camera to your side immediately.

“Miss Chips what’s wrong!”

“I think- I-I think my water broke.”

Kiro.exe has stopped working. The baby was coming, he was so shell shocked that Savin had to place his hand on his shoulder and tell hi that the ambulance was on its way and he needed to breathe, “Right now Y/N needs you to be calm, so calm down.” and Savin walked outside to be able to direct the ambulance to you.

Kiro obviously rides in the ambulance with you, his hand is tightly clasped in yours but neither of you knew who was gripping harder, both of your nerves were shot right now.

Kiro wasn’t allowed to be in the delivery room, no matter how much he argued with the doctor, because he was way too stressed, and his stress was causing you to stress over his stress, “She needs to remain calm during this time, so you’re welcome to pop your head in a bit, but please remain outside.”

Kiro foot bounced restlessly, and Savin tried to distract him by reading him the well wishes of fans, (Savin had announced on social media that you had gone in labour, while Kiro argued with the doctor), but Kiro was only half listening.

Kiro actually had to walk all over the hospital three times just to work off all his nervous energy, this did help distract him, as he made an imprompto visit to the children’s ward and sang a little bit for the children.

When the nurses finally announced that you and the babies were safe Kiro literally jumped up, his eyes lighting up, he thanked the doctor profusely and rushed into the room, barrelling past the nurses holding his children to cradle your face in his hand and press a flurry of kisses all over your face, causing you to giggle weakly.  

“My amazing Miss Chips, thank you!”

“Don’t think you should at least meet your children before you say that.” you laughed breathlessly.

Kiro turned to watched the two nurses holding two bundles (one pink and one blue) and both of them showed expressions of amusement. He blushed and smiled sheepishly, before settling onto the bed next to you pressing a final kiss to your cheek as you were given the pink bundle and he was given the blue bundle.  

He beamed, brighter than the sun, as he watched raptly as the two babies, his two babies, his twin babies, squirmed in their blankets, blinked their eyes and looking around at the brand-new world they were now in.

“Miss Chips, you gave me one of each, you amazing woman.” he laughed loudly kissing you soundly on the lips, as you held the twins in each of your arms.

Gavin:

Gavin flat out refuse to go on any missions as soon as you hit the third trimester, he told the Loveland Police and the chief of STF “I don’t care if the city is on fire, nothing is taking me away from my wife, until our baby is born.”

So, he was on desk duty and simple patrol cases, as you knew he was getting restless, but your heart swelled at the fact he was doing this so you wouldn’t be worried about him.

You were at the office, but you weren’t doing any work, Gavin just didn’t want you to be alone whilst he was at work so he left you in the office where you would be looked after by your colleagues.

You had felt slight discomfort all day, but you shrugged it off, until when Minor and Willow was watching over you during your lunch break, you felt a sharp pain and a wetness around your stomach area.

“Minor call Gavin now!” You said sharply, “Willow call the ambulance, I’m going into labour.”

Willow nodded and whilst she was on the phone with the ambulance she bustled around the room, grabbing your bag and things and placing them next to you. Minor however looked like he was going to have a breakdown, as he tried to calmly tell Gavin “Listen Gavin, bro, Y/N’s going into labour.” you felt bad for Minor as he winced at whatever Gavin was yelling into the receiver.

Minor rode with you in the ambulance, and he was ten times more nervous than you, probably because if you got hurt in any way Gavin would kill him.

Minor waited outside as you were in the delivery room and he watched Gavin and Eli stride into the hospital corridor, Gavin’s hair a mess from him raking his hands through it multiple times. He immediately found a doctor who had just popped out of the room, and demanded to know how you were, the open door allowed him to hear a scream of pain from you.

Gavin had to be held back by both Eli and Minor, both of them had to calm him down and he all but collapsed into the waiting chair outside the room and buried his hands in his hands cursing under his breath.

He couldn’t lose you. He couldn’t. You were his light, his family. His home.

When the doctor finally came back out once again and said you were ready for visitors, Gavin wasted no time in entering the room.

You lay there, eyes closed, and Gavin’s blood ran cold, thinking the worst, he walked up to you and you opened your eyes the watch him. He blinked, tears spilling from his eyes and he smiled before shakingly leaning down and kissing you lightly on the lips, lingering to hear you breathe, just to know you were okay, that you were alive and were still with him.

He helped you sit up a bit and watched as the nurse came back in with a blue bundle, he reached out, and you huffed a laugh at his enthusiasm.

Gavin cradled the baby boy in his arms, making sure you could still clearly see him, the boy opened his eyes and started to cry a little at the new lighting but after Gavin bounced him lightly, he calmed down.

“Thank you love, he’s perfect.” Gavin said leaning his head against yours and his eyes softening at the precious bundle in his arms.  

[kuroopaisen]

HEY it’s me the anon from a few days ago that told you they’d panhandle for the in between crumbs 👨🏻‍🦽 i read pt 1 again while i ate lunch after work and omgncnsms i forgot how much i loved them lowering their walls (and the hesitation that comes w sharing something personal,, tbh not me i just be sayin shit sometimes yk MFNSNSN) but i rlly wanted to ask how long the writing process took you (in general and for this fic), what order you wrote all the scenes in (1/2)

and your favorite scenes from the fic 🥺 or rlly anything you want i love hearing ppl talk abt their writing 🥺🥺 i might send more asks as i inevitably reread the series tho LMAO i woke up today and told my best friend (who’s been lobbying for me to watch more than half of season one,,,, My Bad) that i was rereading this fic for The Serotonin 🤝🤝 also to avoid confusion i’ll call myself pan anon for now!! (2/2)

PAN ANON that’s so cute!! real talk, thank you for showing so much interesting in this fic? it’s my lil baby, and honestly hearing that you’re literally re-reading it is so wild to me,,, i have trouble conceptualising it? but thank you so so much you’re so sweet :( i’m so glad i could provide you with that precious Serotonin, that’s all i want to do,,,

you’ve given me the space to ramble so ramble i did,,, and therefore it’s under a cut fklfds i’m so sorry but also thank you so much (if you do want to ask more questions, don’t be afraid to! although this is,,, v long so i completely understand flkjsklfj)

how long the writing process took

in general: depends on a lot of factors, to be honest! how inspired i am, how long it’s going to be, how developed the idea is,,, generally, I tend to work on fics when I’m inspired to do them, or i won’t touch them for a long period of time. so, it’s hard to give an exact timeframe.

for example, iwaizumi’s birthday fic (ataraxia) was banged out in about a day? concept, writing, everything – mainly because i was on a timeframe, but also because it’s a relatively simple fic. simple premise, gentle but simple emotions, simple outcome. and, because i was inspired (see: under pressure), it was easy to get it all out. albeit ataraxia wasn’t beta’d, which is a bit of a problem for it as a representative of my writing ssjfdklj

something like brat, a more thought-out piece, it might take a week depending on inspiration? brat particularly inspired me (and i wish i’d turned it into a multi-parter now, tbh), so it was easy to get into.

for something like this or little changes, it takes a bit longer? little changes took about three weeks from conception to end product! which leads to…

for this fic: this fic was a bit weird in that i had the idea in my head for a few months? sort of,,, little scenes, and the desire to write something about kuroo and nekoma’s manager, incorporating the theme of ‘an in-between kind of love.’ the actual writing process, however, probably took two weeks?

the first week was pretty lax, and then the second was a whirlwind. It’s honestly sort of a haze because I would write for hours straight? i don’t know what happened, and a lot of the first draft was not good by any means, but yeah. that was one wild week.

poor ren (@/w-yuren – if you haven’t checked her out, please do! she’s the auntie of the fic tbh) proofread all of it over the course of a week because i wanted to get it out by a certain date (i didn’t end up meeting this deadline but Oh Well).

what order you wrote all the scenes in

i didn’t have a particular order!! i would just go for the scenes that i felt most inspired to write. for this fic, it was the scenes that took place more around the middle that i tended to gravitate towards? i found it surprisingly difficult to write the beginning (probably because by the time i got there, i had their dynamic established in my head – meaning that them being strangers was difficult to parse), and i put off the ending because i didn’t quite know how i wanted it to end (the original plan had them going to university – the slowest of all burns).

favourite scenes

so one of my favourite scenes was the one where the reader is having a breakdown in the gym; i didn’t end up doing it as well as i would’ve liked, but it gave me a space to explore some emotions i haven’t really had the chance to in my fics yet. it’s a mini-example, for me, of how cathartic writing can be – before this i’d only written a short daichi fic featuring a reader who had anxiety.

being able to tease out those emotions, but having them received willingly by kuroo, was soothing? and i also enjoyed that it gave me some space to give kuroo his own development, too; we don’t know where his mother is canonically, so divorce is certainly possible. and, speaking as a child of divorced parents, that sort of thing really affects you – often more than you realise. getting to explore that concept without making it the main point of the fic was enjoyable, in some way? it feels like the wrong word, but i can’t think of a better one.

i also enjoyed the scene where kuroo’s feeling down, and both kenma and the reader notice. bc this is a fic and not a full-blown novel, the relationships both kuroo and the reader have with other characters inevitably fall to the wayside, so i enjoyed every opportunity i had to explore the dynamics with other members of the nekoma team. and because kuroo and kenma are so important to each other, it was a joy working out how that’d factor into moments like this (especially since we don’t tend to see kuroo be down, you know?).

I also enjoyed the “ethically sourced” scene just because they’re being such Dumb Teens and i thought the dialogue was naturalish?

i also like the scene at the end of part 2, because i like exploring how we conceptualise love versus how we experience it. kuroo’s very much trapped between the two in that scene, and i think it’s very much something a teenage boy would contend with. especially because the way he conceptualises romantic love makes it something scary, something that could threaten the relationship they currently have.

and finally, i really like the final scene for two main reasons. one, because they don’t need to say “i love you”; they both know. and they know, because they exchange the “i wouldn’t be who i am today without you,” which speaks to their friendship and how they’ve affected one another. it’s also the culmination of both of them realising that it’s okay for them to feel multiple kinds of love for one another, and one doesn’t transcend or smother the other.

two, because it’s a moment of genuine, comfortable vulnerability; something that they’ve always offered each other in one way or another, but it’s usually been one of them comforting and supporting the other. but in this scene, the vulnerability is shouldered by both of them (the reader betrays her vulnerability by giving him a thoughtful present, and kuroo betrays his vulnerability by tearing up and making his confession).  

honestly i had some lofty ideas that i don’t think i totally made good on, but i like these scenes because they gave me the opportunity to explore emotions that i find very interesting, or that relate to my own experiences with love; it’s always been a very strange grey area for me, and since i like to write for catharsis, the in-between was an opportunity to reflect on that! 

i love the friends-to-lovers trope because it focuses on that interplay between different ideas of love, but in a mundane context, what does that mean? how do you draw the line between the two? should you draw that line? 

so i’ve rambled a lot (looking at this wall of text,,, i’m so sorry) but thank for you for letting me indulge myself aslkjd my vocabulary is very limited and i hope i don’t seem like a Tool. 

[wisepuma23]

The Butterfly Shelter Chapter 4

Summary: Logan brings Virgil for a doctor's appointment and receives more insight than he asked for from the odd Dr. Picani. Reeling from the visit, he gets a phone call with some troubling news. Just wonderful! Logan is brought back down to Earth from Cloud Nine of paternal fatherhood, and must now confront his new reality with a son in his life.

Warnings: Mild Angst

Pairings: Slowburn Logicality, Parental Analogical, Parental Royality

Word count: 5,634

Notes: Puma: God this chapter is finally out!! I swear the universe was working against me. But woo!! It's here! Huge thanks to Tashi @fangirltothefullest for her AMAZING art and my betas, @sher-soc-the-famder and @my-happy-little-bean for being super patient!! So enjoy :D!

Tashi:  I'm so happy it's here! We all worked s hard for this chapter!

Previous Chapter

Read on AO3

Logan stared at a stuffed bison with six legs instead of four. How inaccurate and strange. Most likely a new addition to Dr. Picani’s office. Logan bounced Virgil on his lap, his son gurgling. Probably hungry. He pictured the supermarket on the way home. The ever stinging smell of cleaning and sticky floors made him long for an alternative option.

You’re almost out of diapers a voice nagged him. And formula, no matter how much Virgil scrunched up his face at it. Aside from it being adorable, Virgil would get no coddling from him. Logan has read enough books on infant dietary needs of course. He also paid close attention for signs when Virgil was ready to try something new.

“Logan?”

He snapped out of his thoughts, “Yes, yes. I apologize.”

“It’s all good!” Dr. Picani beamed, “Like your little waterbender there!”

Logan tilted his head, “What?”

“Oh, there’s a cool neat-o test based on hand shape online that tells you about what bender you are,” Dr. Picani brightened even more (as if that was humanly possible), “And I remember Virgil here got waterbender! You know? From Avatar: the Last Airbender??”

Logan pinched his nose, “I meant the test results, doctor.”

“Oh,” Dr. Picani’s smile softened, “The good news is that he didn’t catch anything. Aside from his ongoing colic, your son is incredibly lucky.”

His eyes crinkled around his laughter lines, “Roman was vaccinated, but even then, there was still that chance. Bacteria and all that. Kids just being kids like eating dirt or something.”

“And the bad news?”

“Babies can heal quickly even without Katara’s spirit water!” Dr. Picani said, but then bit his lips for a few moments, “But it looks like a permanent scar. So keep an eye on that arm. It might be sore and bruised for a while. And also watch his little fingers,” The doctor adjusted his glasses, his voice lost all goofiness from earlier, “I’m sure you would’ve noticed by now, but if either the arm or the fingers don’t work correctly, you might have some severed muscle tendons from the force of the bite.”

Logan’s bouncing came to a stop. His three-hour power nap left him in an instant. Exhaustion weighed down his bones. Barely a month into having a son and he already had a scar or worse, a disfigurement that would alter his lifestyle.

“I’m a terrible father,” Logan sagged, glancing down at his son’s eyes still so full with spirit, “Oh, what am I doing?”

Laughter rang through the colorful office, “Welcome to fatherhood, Mr. Crofters! I’ve worked here twenty years in the maternity ward and I’ve seen every sort of father under the sun. And you? You aren’t a terrible father,” Dr. Picani said as he reached over and patted his white-knuckled fist, “You treated his wound, then called me immediately, and all the while you comforted him. In my totally expert opinion; you’re off to a good start.”

“What kind?” Logan whispered, trying (and failing) to hide the desperation in his voice, “What kind of father am I, if not a terrible one?”

Dr. Picani looked at him, silent for the first time since he entered his office. Logan squirmed in his seat as the doctor deliberate over the question. No doubt judging him like anyone else. Virgil burbled a soft noise and tugged on his tie, insistent as ever. For the split second Logan looked away from Dr. Picani to look at his son, the knot in his chest loosened. He never knew he could house so much love in his heart for a small thing.

He looked back up at Dr. Picani and instead of the biting glare he expected, he wore a fond smile with wrinkles around the edges. Logan blinked. He didn’t know how to fit that expression in his world. His world full of square shoulders and horizontal grimaces. Virgil pulled on his tie again.

“You, Logan, are not a terrible father,” Dr. Picani said, warmth in every word that had Logan reeling, “I want to say you’re good, heck you’re doing much better than most new fathers I’ve met! But a good father takes time, come back in twenty years, and let me know how you’re doing then!” Dr. Picani’s smile softened as Logan let the wise words wash over him, ‘But you? You’re well on your way to being a good father.”

Logan didn’t feel particularly comforted by the words. Not with the large bruise that still lingered under Virgil’s onesie. A permanent reminder of his failure for years to come. Virgil didn’t seem too fazed, but Logan couldn’t understand. He knew logically resilience came with childhood and kids often bounced back. Yet, yet, he couldn’t help but think he might’ve done something to prevent it. Virgil wouldn’t have a bite at all if he hadn’t visited Patton so soon.

If anything, this was one scar Logan wouldn’t bounce from.

“What would you do?” Logan whispered, his chest tight with anxiety clawing up his insides as he looked at his son, “If you were in my place?”

“Hmmm, well,” Dr. Picani tapped his chin then beamed, “I’d be completely inconsolable, to be honest! And hold back my wife, because she’s so much like Garnet! But….” Dr. Picani clasped his hands over his desk, “I know accidents happen and it hurts now, but one day it’ll stop hurting. It’ll find its place in your life.”

“Actual advice?” Logan raised an eyebrow, “I would’ve expected more cartoon references.”

Dr. Picani grinned with a hint of mischief around the edges, “Silly! I wasn’t done. Rafiki said that sometimes the past can hurt, but you can choose to either run from it...or learn from it. And have you learned something, Mufasa?”

Logan blinked, “Well–”

“Actually it’s Simba,” Dr. Picani cut in, “That Rafiki said it to, but since you’re a dad, I said Mufasa. Here’s hoping you don’t meet a tragic end from unseen forces that actively plotted your demise and die protecting your son from people closer to you than you think.”

“What?”

“Never mind!” Dr. Picani laughed, “Just one of my cartoon rants, don’t worry about it. Or complain to my superior...please. She’ll give me that disappointed look again. So did you learn something from this whole debacle?”

“...Yes,” Logan said, “I believe I’ve learned some valuable insights after all.”

Logan looked at his son, running a hand over his pudgy little cheek. Virgil moved immediately to grab for his fingers and pull on them. His grip strong as ever, so by Dr. Picani’s assessment, he would be fine. No disfigurement anytime soon.

“Wonderful!” Dr. Picani picked up the stuffed bison and waved it in front of Virgil, “I know for a fact he loves you very much already! He isn’t the miserable little boy I knew him,” Virgil giggled as his fingers reached for the toy, “Golly, he’s so happy. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working.”

“I’m simply following the guide books.” Logan coughed.

Dr. Picani winked up at him, “You love him too, and there’s no book in the whole world that can teach you that. I don’t blame you. Virgil is the cutest water-bender I know!”

Logan’s face turned a hot pink as croaks fell out. Dr. Picani laughed as Virgil grabbed the hairs of the bison, the leg too fat for him to grasp, and swung it up and down as he giggled. Logan didn’t disagree with Dr. Picani’s statement. He loved his son. And no one could teach the warm encompassing feeling in his chest whenever he looked at him. Virgil Crofters, his family.

That very love was what contributed to his worries, Virgil deserved a good father. Someone to watch over him and be there for every recital and milestone. Be there for every bruise and breakdown. Every triumph and award. He didn’t want to miss a thing. Ever. Logan’s eyes prickled with the threat of tears again as his thoughts drifted to Roman.

He loved that boy from day he was born. So much energy in such a tiny frame and his smiles never ran out. Roman pushed and shoved at the world like he wanted everyone to know he was there. Logan couldn’t forget the tantrums he threw, the toys he’s broken in his enthusiasm, and how he ran. Ran far and fast despite his stubby little legs for his age. It didn’t matter that Roman was Patton’s kid, a detail that had lost importance as he loved him like his own.

And why the bite stung so much. Lashing out because he didn’t want anyone else to leave him. Patton didn’t quite get the hang of teaching nonviolent ways to express emotion, but then again what did he expect from a five-year-old who loved swords? No, no it wasn’t Roman’s fault. A heavy prickly ball sat in his chest, disappointment so deep that it hurt to breathe.

Logan swallowed thickly as Virgil’s giggles filled the air. Dr. Picani told him when to get vaccines and shots for Virgil in the upcoming weeks and months. Yet Logan couldn’t forget Roman’s tears. He let out an exhausted sigh as a migraine blossomed behind his eyes. Why did feelings always came with such adverse effects? Virgil tugged on his tie again and snapped him out of his thoughts. Logan shook his head and paid attention to the rest of the visit.     

+++++

Logan slammed the car door as he got in. Then slumped over his car wheel. Virgil burst into tears in the backseat at the loud noise. His shoulders slumped even more. Whatever Dr. Picani said from his silly cartoons couldn’t be right. Him? A good father?

“You’re deluding yourself,” Logan hissed under his breath, “I can’t do this. I’ll be just like my father and–”

Logan muffled a sob.

Virgil cries joined his, and he wanted to drive away into the sunset. Something ugly pierced his heart at the way he failed Virgil’s cry for attention. Damn feelings hindering his care of his son. He could cry all he wanted when he was dead. He’d have all of eternity to cry his pain and failures away.

Logan wiped away his tears with his wrist, “Pull it together, you idiot.”

He took in a shuddering breath. Then he swiftly beat back the thorny emotions at the back of his throat. Back and back and squeezed down at the bottom of his stomach. Thrown into a bottomless pit for all he cared. Then he turned around in his seat to face Virgil.

“I’m sorry, your Dad didn’t mean to startle you,” Logan reached with an arm and wiped Virgil’s thick tears away, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. You’re likely starving, here let me just–” He unclicked his seatbelt and wiggled into the backseat, “Join you.”

Logan took Virgil out of his car seat and into his arms. He bounced Virgil up and down on his knees, earning some giggles. No more tears for now. Logan reached for a bottle in his bag and immediately his son’s eyes sparkled.

Virgil sucked on the bottle as Logan cradled him. It almost felt private, in the back of his car in a crowded parking garage. The shadows hid them from the world. Logan curled up into his knees, an extra shield around Virgil. The grit in his eyes from exhaustion and the ache in his bones faded.

“I’m sorry,” Logan said again, the line of his mouth slanted down, “I suppose I learned something from this whole debacle, you are my top priority. I won’t let anything else distract me again,” Virgil blinked up at him with a coo, “It wasn’t Roman’s fault, he’s only a child who doesn’t know much better, but I’ll watch over you. You won’t get hurt anymore, I promise.”

The strains of the Imperial March startled him then pulled his phone out from his pocket. By the ringtone, it had to be his boss. Wonderful. Falsehood, he hissed in his mind. Logan sighed as he pushed the button and propped his phone between his ear and shoulder. Quietly shushing Virgil’s coos to listen.

“Logan!!! Whatcha up to?” A sugary sweet voice replied, “How are you enjoying life on the outside, haha?”

“I’m spending quality time with my son,” Logan said, his professionalism the only thing keeping his tongue in cheek, “But I noticed something off about my payments recently. It appeared that I got a 40% cut in my pay? Is it some error or?”

He heard the whirs of a printer in the background, “Yeah so listen, I gave you two months paid paternity leave. Other places would give you two weeks,” The creak of Mr. Magenta’s smile could be heard through the line, “So I’m rather generous even paying you at all. How does four-hour shifts work for you? More time with your son after all!”

“Sir, I’ve been one of your best workers for the past five years!” Logan’s temper burnt inside of him, the grip on Virgil’s bottle tightened, “Lowering my hours and docking my pay is unfair! You said I could have a six-month leave. You were fine with it a year ago–”

“Yeah I was...” Mr. Magenta said, the steady spurts of paper being printed in the background, “But you didn’t have a little demon a year ago,”

“What?”

“That’s right, you play by my rules now,” Mr. Magenta snarled, all false cheeriness gone, “You do as I say or you and your kid end up on the streets. And I’ll hire another desperate college dropout.”

“You sick sonva–”

The printer beeped.

“Oh! Looks like we’re out of ink,” Mr. Magenta giggled, “Want to try that again, Logan?”

“....What do you want? I’ll switch to the night shift, the whole shift if I have to, I need those hours. Please reconsider.”

“Hmmmmm….”

Virgil gurgled, signifying he was done drinking. Logan took the bottle out and wiped away the milk mustache with his bib. The crackling silence on the other end made the back of his hairs prickle. If he lost this job, he didn’t know what he’d do. Perhaps pick up odd jobs again but with a baby to boot? He just can’t–

“Alright!” Mr. Magenta said at last, “Night shifts for you and I better see you in two months. I rather like your manila folder, hate to shred all of that work. It’s not often to have one so thick with perfect quotas.”

“But my pay–”

“SHUT UP!” The call clicked to a stop.

Logan threw his phone down and swallowed down his yell. Not in front of Virgil. He needed to reevaluate his budget plans then. Damn it! As much as he wanted to curse and scream and cry; he didn’t want Virgil to feel like he’d done something wrong. Logan sighed, forcibly unlocking all tension from his body.

“Shush, it’s gonna be okay,” Logan said, raising Virgil over his shoulder to burp, “Let’s go home. I’ll read you something nice before you take your nap, okay? With lots of pictures. At least one of us will be happy today.”

Virgil cooed and reached up to pat his face. Those chubby fingers clumsily hanging onto his frames. The last of his anger faded away. Logan weakly smiled down at his son. He would find a way. For Virgil, he would do anything.

+++++

The camera clicked on, quietly whirring through the recording. It shook as Logan fumbled in his haste to capture the moment. The world blurred until the camera came to a stop. Focused from above onto Virgil, laying on his back in his crib. His eyes bright as he giggled as a large finger came down to tickle his stomach.

“Hello again,” Logan’s muffled giggles behind the camera, “Up from your nap already? Someone is excited about their first day of work with Daddy, huh?”

“Guah!” Virgil grabbed his finger and started to suck on it.

“I know, I know it’s third dinner already,” Logan said, the camera zooming closer until Virgil’s brown eyes took up the whole screen, “Do you want formula or formula? Or chef’s choice, formula?”

Virgil kicked at the air as the camera zoomed out again, bubbly giggles as his answer. This was the perfect shot to capture a monumental milestone. He flipped onto his stomach for the camera to see as Logan gasped. A huge step forward in his development! Virgil giggled as he pounded his little fists against his blankets.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” The camera shook again as loud clicks filled the air, “I need to tell everyone right now.”

Ping after ping, text sounds flooded the audio output, but the phone camera kept faithfully recording. Virgil reached for a mini bear toy and started to suck on its ear. So oblivious to the giggles and pings of internal screaming from his father.

The camera shook as the pings became more insistent and finally clicked to a stop. End of recording labeled “Virgil’s first rollover at 4 months”. Preserved in an abandoned phone’s memory by the owner, Logan Crofters.

++++

The red light of a security camera turned on as it detected movement. The time stamp only a few hours after the previous recording. A man stepped out of an ancient car with a dark bundle on his chest and a bag slung across his shoulder. In the lowlight of a flickering street lamp, prim and proper were the only words to describe the man.

[08:48 PM]

Logan resisted the urge to pull his navy trench coat tighter around himself in the night’s chill. Virgil slept soundly in a wrap against his chest, a dark beanie on his head to fend away the cold. Logan hurried a little faster to the doors of the building. Central heating so close! He slid his keycard without looking, so ingrained at this point, and the doors opened with a whoosh.

A lobby camera turned in its steady path to capture his entrance far below.

“Hey hey, look who’s back from vacation!” Keith whooped over his newspaper, “Really odd to see you at night, Mr. Crofters.”

“You’re telling me,” Logan replied as he walked up to the metal detectors that barred him from the elevators at the back, “I have opted to switch to the night shift so I don’t disrupt as many co-workers if Virgil cries or needs to be fed.”

“Virgil, huh?” Keith stood up, his dark curls falling in front of his face to look over his desk, “So who’s the cute little bug from? You got a girl?”

“No, and I’m not planning to get one,” Logan said tersely as he put a hand on Virgil’s back protectively, “He’s sleeping right now so I advise keeping your voice low. But it’s nice to see you again, Mr. Smith.”

“Alright, same too,” Keith sat back down again, still smiling brightly at the tiny bundle, “Have a good night, sir. And don’t work too late!”

Logan waved as he walked through the detectors. Small talk, he never quite got the hang of it. He could hear the rustle of the newspaper being snapped back open. Keith and one other guard, Ned Fulmer, always switched their shifts. One or the other. For a mid-sized accounting firm, they really should hire more staff. And more competent ones too.

Then again, he shouldn’t talk ill of them. They hired him after all when no one else did. If they gave him a steady paycheck and a crappy office, it was better than nothing. And the benefits couldn’t be understated enough. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have Virgil right now.

The elevator camera watched him fidget to some outdated tune. The strains of too peppy music despite the miserable air of the whole building circled like carrion birds in his head. The lenses whirred and clicked, catching every minuscule twitch. The grey lights flickered as he glanced down at the buttons with smudged numbers worn down over the years. Not a single one replaced like not even the buttons could escape this infernal place. The man checked his watch as the elevator slowly went up the floors, the second hand counting down like to a final curtain call rather than the start of his shift.

The doors opened and he stepped out of the oppressive metal coffin to a dark floor. Only a scant few fluorescent lights of computers were left on. It cast the cubicles into boxes of shadows and darkness. The red light of an exit sign shone at the back of it. Logan swallowed at the almost menacing and frightening air of what once was so familiar. The dull lights made him almost ill as he remembered the neon meadow of baby toys at home. Then he shook his head, primal instincts couldn’t override his reasoning.

“Good evening,” Logan said as he navigated through the corporate maze, “Good evening, fellow associates. I’ll be in my office if you need me.” No reaction from the mindless drones, their eyes glazed over as they scrolled through datasheets, “No need to welcome me back.”

The clack clack clack of keys rang against the silence, interrupted by the occasional yawn or creak. Logan straightened his shoulders, sharp angles of professionalism even if no one cared to notice or comment on. He held Virgil close to his chest like he protected a flame from a blustery wind. If the elevator was a coffin, the whole floor was a black hole of no escape. Not even light. Logan passed cubicles with no posters, pictures, or even a favorite novelty pen in sight. The night shift workers sat there glued to their screens like good little robots, click, clack, press enter, input, new row, the spreadsheets filled one by one.

Logan swallowed back the illogical instinct to retch at the display, instead of a sterile cubicle he saw the picked clean bones of a life. Of any hope. Mr. Magenta preferred his workers to have no distractions, and Logan braced his son closer at the thought. Why hadn’t he noticed the leeching effects of this monotony and fixed lifestyle before? Logan shook his head. He would stay for however long to support his son and perhaps find a better job. He ignored how long he’d been looking for a ‘better job’ for the past five years.

He hastily clicked the door of his office behind him. Away from the mechanical eyes and ears. The camera’s movement did not falter as it continued to sweep the office. Right to left, right to left, over and over, repetitive and consistent, just like the workers it monitored.

Logan slumped against the door. He made it. Stifling a sigh, he pulled out his chair from his nondescript desk and sat in it. The blinds behind him were drawn up to reveal the skyline, dull grey lines against an inky sky. Then again, not much different than the sickly smog that dirtied his view during his former day shift either. The only other lights came from his dreary coworkers, sterile white and colorless as the rest of this soul-sucking place.

He looked down at his sleeping son. Virgil squished his face deeper against his suit with a faint sigh. Right, he needed to change out of it immediately. No one would bother him for the next eight hours anyhow. He found that old sweatshirts were the preferred attire when taking care of babies. As wonderful Virgil was so far, he still drooled and spat like any other infant. Logan’s ever so present thin line softened into a smile as Virgil sniffled in his sleep.

He opened his satchel and pulled out seven different rolled up blankets from home. Budget-wise, it would’ve been smarter to opt for cheap scratchier blankets but in this rare instance he took the less logical choice and took the softer ones higher on the shelf. Spun out of clouds and dreams it advertised on the side. Logan had to take a moment to look at them. The folded blankets checkered his desk like a manicured garden of patterned dinosaurs and rainbows across it. A piece of home totally out of its element in the conditioned room where the stale air wasn’t the only thing that chilled him down to his bones.

He pulled out an empty filing cabinet, shallow but large enough, and buried it in the blankets. No cold metal would dare disturb his star darling’s sleep if he had anything to say about it. Logan fiddled with it for longer than necessary. It just–It had to be perfect. His fingers shoved and adjusted the blankets until it became a miniature nest. Hmm, good enough.

Now for the finishing touch. Logan carefully, oh so carefully, pulled Virgil out from his papoose wrap. His son whimpered and his heart skipped a beat, Logan rubbed a hand down his back and shushed him before he could fuss. Virgil’s face scrunched for a few moments then smoothed out as he rocked against Logan’s chest. Logan let out a breath. Thank Newton, he truly wouldn’t know what to do if his son woke up. He rocked Virgil to a soft hum of Mozart around the room, each step quiet as a mouse.

Virgil remained peaceful, slumping almost boneless in his hold.

Logan set him down in the makeshift bed of a cabinet. Logan leaned over to give the lightest of pecks to his son’s head and murmured a good night. He didn’t know how Virgil could be so gentle and peaceful when he’d heard horror stories from Patton about Roman keeping him up for months and months. Although Virgil did have his fair share of sleepless nights, they became less and less frequent. This seemed to be aided by the fact that his Colic had settled, which was a relief to them both. He hoped Virgil would sleep through the night soon. His books noted it was a possibility at the five-month stage.

Hmm, he didn’t want to accidentally shut close the cabinet, so he stuck several rulers in the hole between the desk and cabinet. Adequate risk minimization of injury and accident. Virgil snuffled in his sleep, his fingers clutching at empty air. His thoughts melted at the sight like butter and far sweeter than jam. No, he had to remember this wasn’t home and he couldn’t dally on his objectives.

Logan was quick to shirk off his suit jacket after that, and he laid it around his chair before rummaging through his satchel for his folded sweater at the bottom. He doubted Mr. Magenta would check up on him; it was a documented fact that the vile man never came down from his office on the top floor and certainly not on nights. Best not to mix with the henchmen of course. Logan pulled out his sweater, the smooth beige fabric soft and easier on the eyes than the stiff lines of his monochromatic suit. He rubbed his fingers through it for a moment, appreciating the faint stains of milk and spit on it. A reminder of home.

But he had more important things to focus on and he needed to complete them before Virgil’s scheduled feeding in three hours. Logan unbuttoned his white collared dress shirt with deft fingers and an eye on the door. The unforgiving conditioned air bit at his exposed arms and through the thin wall of his tank. He bit back a shiver. In one graceful movement, he pulled on his sweater with a sigh. It even smelled like home, the thought surprised him. When did he think of his apartment as home? He shook his head and pulled his chair closer to his computer.

Logan pulled up his work emails and clicked through the various databases on his computer. His eyes already started to ache at the sight of the long rows. So much he missed on his paid fraternal leave.

But first...Logan took out his phone and to take a snap of Virgil. Hmm, it seemed his son’s nest was still missing something. Logan pulled out Cow from the bottom of his bag and tucked it in next to Virgil. Perfect. Now adequate to capture this adorable moment in time.

First father-son day at work today!

The grainy photo had heart and stars stickers all over it. Patton sent back a simple thumbs up. Logan’s smile grew bigger as another text came through.

Roman doesn’t want to sleep yet, monsters in the closet again.

A slightly blurred selfie of Patton with a flyswatter and Roman peeking out from his blankets in the background appeared on his screen. Patton sat in the entrance of the closet from what he remembered of Roman’s room. Logan pressed a thumb onto the photo and saved it to his archive. Roman was so brave some days, but all kids had fears, including the ‘prince’ himself. But he had nothing to be afraid of when his Dad was there. Always ready to the rescue.

He only hoped he could be half of the great father Patton was.

+++++

Patton giggled as he turned on the old VHS camera recorder from his college days. He flipped open the screen, a blue screen flashes before it showed the adorable scene before him. He muffled his giggles as he pressed the zoom in.

[12:43 Jun 24 2019]

Roman laid on his stomach, eye to eye to his arch-nemesis, one Virgil Crofters. Six months old and full of life. Golly, he remembered when the poor kiddo was so quiet.

Virgil laid on his stomach for the required ‘tummy time’ that Logan talked about. His eyes watching Roman’s attentively like they were a pair of shiny keys.

Roman covered his eyes, “Oh no, where did I go?”

Virgil giggled.

“Peek a boo!” Roman said with a gummy grin, “Did I getcha?”

“Hehehehe, peka!” Virgil babbled, “Pepe, pepe, pee!!!”

“Logan is going to love this,” Patton said as he squealed with excitement, fiddling with the camera controls to capture every adorable giggle both of their sons had, “It’s going to be so fun to edit this for your first birthday, oh yes it will! Oh yes it will!!”

Roman groaned, “Daaaaaaddd!!! You’re so embarashing!”

“It’s embarr-assing, kiddo,” Patton said, then waved a hand in front of the camera, “You’re doing great, honey!! We can totally take care of little Virge for a bit.”

“ASS!” Virgil shouted with all the enthusiasm of a new discovery, “Ass, ash, shh!!”

“DAAAAD, HE SAID A BAD WORD!!” Roman snickered as he pointed at Virgil, “Look who’s in trooooubblleeeeeee!!!”

“N-no he didn’t say anything bad,” Patton said, his voice shaky behind the camera, “How ‘bout I give you ice cream tonight and watch some movies huh? I’ll give Logan this a little later after I figure out how to edit again…” Nervous laughter echoed, “Just to give the very best moments of his adorable son!”

The picture froze, the snickers cut off by the end of the recording.

+++++

“What are you doing?” Logan’s face squinted up into the camera, “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No, no, don’t let me stop you!” Nate said, his snicker deep and graveled, “Do you want me to hide behind the door again? Virgil seemed to like it! Come on, pleaaaaassseeee?”

Logan blushed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Virgil babbled at the mention of his name. Almost squirming in Logan’s hold until he had to kick off the rocking chair again to calm him down. Nate shoved his phone’s camera into Logan’s face, a rosy blush crawling up until–

“Fine fine,” Logan caved, then looked down at Virgil, “But for him. You’re right, he does seem to enjoy it. And he does require intellectual stimulation, especially at the six-month mark.”

“Yes!”

Nate held true to his hold and shuffled away to give him space. He propped his phone up to catch the picturesque image of a father cradling his son in the room, lit up by soft blue lamps. Toys laid scattered on the ground along with a playmat in one corner. Then Logan did that smile again, so private and reserved for Virgil only.

He couldn’t believe Logan was letting him catch it on camera! Forever bottled in time as a wonderful moment to the robotic man he once knew. The room hushed, even Virgil’s giggles quietened. Logan drew in a breath as his whole posture changed and the sharp lines around his figure smudged into something indiscernible. Almost like he was dropping his lifelong act as a boring square.

“ Baby mine, don’t you cry,” Logan’s voice gentle as raindrops and honey, “Baby mine, dry your tears, rest your head close to my heart, ” Virgil’s eyes slipped closed as Logan cradled him closer, rubbing his cheek gently, “ Never to part, oh baby mine…”

Logan kissed the top of his forehead. Virgil’s stubby little hands clutched at his blue sweatshirt, the wrinkles smoothing out on his face where they remained on his shirt. His tiny puffs of breath slowed into sleep, entering his second scheduled nap of the day. The rocking chair creaked to a stop as Logan hummed soft notes to his lullaby.

He stood up, still slowly rocking Virgil in his arms. Then walked over to his crib and set Virgil down. The camera strained to catch Logan’s whisper as he hovered over his son. His lips moved but Nate couldn’t decipher it at the moment.

The camera could:

“I’ll never leave you, Virgil. Not until the day I die. I love you so much.”

Logan turned around then a blush overtook his face again as he noticed the camera.

“Always so camera shy!” Nate giggled as Logan marched over. His hand reaching out toward the camera, his palm blotting out everything. And then–

The phone ran out of battery.

[Recording lost.]

taglist:

@poisonedapples @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2, @milomeepit, @k9cat, @my-happy-little-bean, @thesocialbookwormishere, @sher-soc-the-famder @thebrokenbluecrayon,  @confinesofpersonalknowledge, @mariniacipher @finger-gunsss @peanut0303 @ilylogan @princeanxious @khadij-al-kubra @smokeyrutilequartz @pipapatton @ironwoman359 @celestial-firestorm @virge-of-a-breakdown @bunny222 @rosesisupposes @wildhorsewolf @sander-fander-sides  @teacupfulofstarshine @ashrain5 @deafgirl-and-hercoven @moonfang03 @karmels-stuff @everythings-coming-up-aces @a-little-bit-of-ace @thekeytohappiness-is-you @larkiaquail @wundergirllovesyou @gemini-the-kitsune-rp @squishyturtle44 @alotofstupidstuff @pridefox @doing-my-demibest @coffee-fueled-art @tinashrader @pr0bablypr0crstinating @theunoriginaldaisy @fiive-second-cookies @anxiousangel121 @llamaavocado  @ever-after-aaa

[judedeluca]

Last Friday I Tried To Kill Myself: My Rant On Why Heroes In Crisis Is Destructive Garbage And Why Stories Like This Need To Stop Being Made

TW: Suicide, rape, abuse

I’ve made it no secret I’ve been in therapy since 2012, and I’ve especially been vocal about my dislike for DC Comics’ latest event book, “Heroes in Crisis,” which just released its last issue on May 29th 2019.

I tried to write something the other night but I didn’t like how it sounded so I deleted it. After my session with my therapist earlier in the day, she convinced me to simply write down what I feel regardless. And so I did. I typed and typed. This is pretty long under the cut. I don’t know if I got carried away. I think I did.

I need to be clear I did NOT just try to commit suicide because of how much I hated a comic book. I’d like to believe even I’m not that pathetic. I tried to kill myself because of a number of reasons which sort of snowballed together this previous Friday.

Look this is angry and long and it sounds ridiculous but I just wanted to write and get my feelings out and I’m sorry okay? I’m, just, I’m sorry. For being pathetic and a disappointment to my friends and letting this bother me so much.

But I’m talking about “Heroes in Crisis” because this book has been negatively affecting me since it began publication, and the state that it left me in this past week only served to exacerbate the negative thoughts I had to endure, and I briefly reached a point where I had a knife to my wrist.

I’ve been attending therapy for the past seven years in order to address trauma and abuse I suffered through in my adolescence. In grade school I was bullied, and from 6th to 12th grade I was sexually abused on two separate occasions in two separate schools from four different people. In middle school I was assaulted by three boys who weren’t much older than me on the bus ride home, where they grabbed my head and shoved my face into their crotches as all the other kids laughed. In high school a classmate molested me twice during art class, and spent the rest of that time trying to make me apologize after I smacked him in self defense.

In 2009 my family dissolved when my parents unhappily split apart, which placed me as the unwilling recipient of my father’s, mother’s, and sibling’s emotional baggage while my own problems were ignored. During the loss of my support system I juggled two jobs along with graduating from college, I came out of the closet and have been struggling to figure out both my sexual and gender identities, I made my first suicide attempt in 2013, and my best friend died in 2016 along with four other people I cared about or who saw me as a friend.

Seeking therapy was something I had to do on my own. I tried counseling sessions with the people at my college but despite their best efforts it didn’t do much to help. I never received counseling in middle school for my sexual assault and my parents weren’t of much help either despite it was clear I developed some significant behavior problems. In 10th Grade I did spend some time with a guidance counselor because they feared I was suicidal due to my depression around my bad grades in Chemistry, but again this didn’t really help.

God I realize how analytical and detached this is sounding and I don’t know why. I feel like I’m just listing everything. Ugh.

Aside from my suicidal thoughts I suffer from depression and PTSD. I think I’m a genuinely bad person and I’ve often thought I brought the abuse I suffered as a kid onto myself because I was a weird boy. I’ve wondered if I have a right to feel ashamed of what happened to me because it wasn’t as bad as what other people have gone through. I frequently think of myself as a shameless, greedy, manipulative person who doesn’t deserve to be happy because I use people. I’ve truly said some awful things to people and I know I’ve been blocked by a couple of people online and not without good cause. You need to understand that. My own sibling once said I was a wicked, blackhearted person.

I have trouble not assuming the worst of my parents and sibling because of how often I would find myself stuck in the middle of their arguing, which got me labeled a martyr whenever I tried to play peacemaker which I only wanted because I hate seeing them unhappy. I assume the worst about situations and I’ve spent countless nights lying awake thinking over and over again about past mistakes and how much I wish I was dead, or that I had died instead of one of my friends because they made the world a better place and I don’t. It’s easy for me to believe the world would be a better place if I died.

Often my problems had been ignored by the people I turned to for help. Ignored, looked down upon, or just belittled. It became hard for me to talk to people because it felt like no one really cared about what I was going through or that I wanted help. Or they misunderstood and their attempts to help failed because they didn’t really know what was wrong.

Despite all this I want to believe therapy has helped me deal with problems better than I had before, and helped me to take pride in what I have accomplished. I graduated cum laude with no student debt, I’ve held onto at least one job for over a decade, and I’m currently writing for three websites that have let me change my perspective on things and given me space to grow as a writer. I believe I’m better able to recognize boundaries and to let my feelings be known, and to know when not to engage in stressful situations. I’ve been trying, TRYING, not to let me depression and negative thoughts affect me too badly.

It’s not easy, but it’s better than not doing anything at all.

So, where does “Heroes in Crisis” fit into this.

Well.

Through middle and high school, comics were pretty much the only thing that managed to keep me going without having a complete breakdown. Well I did have other interests and I still do. I could never survive on comic books alone.

I didn’t really have any friends I could rely on or talk to about my problems, not in real life or online. I got lucky in high school since there was a comic store one block away, which meant I was now able to regularly buy comics instead of the odd issue here or there. It was after I graduated high school I finally began to make some friends through online message boards and by meeting people at comic conventions. So comics didn’t just keep me going, they helped me find the people who HAVE been able to help me and see me as an individual worth knowing. My very first best friend in the whole world (NOT the one who died) is a professional comic artist I met through DeviantArt. “Stuck Rubber Baby” helped me realize and be honest about the fact I’m queer, and it was through commissioning comic artists I’ve felt more comfortable about exploring my sexuality.

As cheesy as it sounds the presence of comics in my life has indeed helped me a great deal, and I want to professionally write comics someday as a way to repay some of that back and try to make the world a better place.

I’ve always bought a little bit of everything but I’m mainly focused on DC Comics. My favorite teams are the Titans, the Legion of Super-Heroes, the Doom Patrol, and the Justice Society. Ask me my favorite Flash, I’ll pick Jay Garrick or Wally West. My favorite Green Lantern, I’d pick Alan Scott and Kyle Rayner.

Suffice it to say I really haven’t been happy with most of what DC’s published in the past ten years. I’ve been especially vocal about my dislike for books such as “Rise of Arsenal,” “Titans” by Eric Wallace, and pretty much everything Scott Lobdell’s worked on. Like a lot of people, I thought “DC Rebirth” back in 2016 was a step in the right direction, that they were finally cleaning the mess they made with the New 52 initiative.

“Heroes in Crisis” proved me and a lot of other people wrong.

But as a person struggling with depression and PTSD, this book offended me on a whole different level compared to anything those other books have done.

So you’ve got a place, Sanctuary, where heroes and villains can receive counseling for their respective problems and possibly get help. That sounds like a great idea. And then the first issue opens with the reveal every patient has been gruesomely murdered save for two who believe the other is guilty. And it gets worse from there.

FIRST: It turns out Sanctuary has no actual doctors or therapists. It relies instead on a computer programmed with the supposed best traits of Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman.

SECOND: The patients are put in virtual reality chambers where they relive their respective traumas over and over again as a way to confront them.

THIRD: There doesn’t seem to be any real security except for a couple of robots, and anyone can just walk in. Which means Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman haven’t been monitoring the place until AFTER the massacre.

What followed was than eight issues of a supposed mystery that wasn’t a mystery at all. Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman do almost nothing to figure who was responsible for this, while Lois Lane is given files of all the Sanctuary interviews which she PUBLISHES, leaking hundreds of secrets that were meant to be private even if she obscures the real names. The investigation falls to Booster Gold and Harley Quinn, who both believe the other is the killer.

It eventually turns out the killer was Wally West, who accidentally unleashed a burst of energy that killed those around him and in a fit of extreme suicidal despair violated the corpses to look like a mystery so he would have enough time to release the Sanctuary files and then kill himself believing it was the only way to make things right. He doesn’t die but turns himself in at the end.

I-I don’t have the energy to give a complete rundown, I really don’t. Suffice to say the book has problems. Racist problems, homophobic problems, and ableist problems. The series IS a problem.

Since the first issue was released I hated, I HATED, this comic with every fiber of my being. I hated the stilted writing and I hated the gross, overly sexualized artwork. I hated it was another event series built around cheap shock value deaths meant to drive up sales and garner controversy to make more sales. And I especially hated the premise, that this Sanctuary was supposed to be a place of healing but was anything BUT. The DC Trinity make no attempt to get real doctors to help them provide help for their comrades and friends, delegating everything to a computer that’s supposed to have their best qualities and assuming THAT is a decent substitute for qualified psychiatrists and therapists.

The very IDEA that Superman and Wonder Woman could be so arrogant and conceited to believe they could substitute for licensed medical professionals is appaling. Even Batman on his worst days would never be so inconsiderate.

And then there are the VR chambers, where the heroes relive their traumas over and over and over again until they can get over them. THIS IS NOT HEALTHY. To experience such pain over and over again. The comic even demonstrated through characters Lagoon Boy and Wally West that going through their trauma again and again clearly wasn’t helping. Lagoon Boy relieved the Titans East massacre HUNDREDS of times. And this seems to be the only real option Sanctuary allows besides the confessionals.

This, this NEGLECT. Sanctuary isn’t a place for healing, it’s a dumping ground! These people are secluded and essentially kept in solitary confinement where they have almost no one but a computer to talk to. A computer that does absolutely nothing to help them.

I spoke to my own doctor about this and she agreed with me none of this was healthy and that the book itself was extremely damaging and poorly thought out.

And I have spoken to her about this a LOT over the last nine months, because with each issue that came out I felt myself getting more and more worn down. I would dread the last Wednesday of the month knowing the next issue would arrive. And let me tell you this wasn’t the only thing I was talking about in my sessions, but it figured a lot into my past discussions and my therapist respected that. I’m glad I have her in my life, she’s a consummate professional. 

I’m not talking about simple fan boy hate. This comic DRAINED me and struck more than a number of nerves. The apathy and insensitivity that went into crafting this book reminded me far too much of what I’ve gone through in life and not for the better.

For starters, the way Tom King portrays the problems the characters go through is nothing but a joke. We’re treated to multiple confessional sequences where different characters talk about their issues in a nine-panel grid layout featuring some of the most stilted dialog I’ve ever read. King shows absolutely no research or care in the characters he talks about, ignoring their backstories to make up nonsense and present it as deep when in reality he’s gutted them from the inside out.

The one that bothered me most was Roy Harper from the first issue, in a confessional sequence one page AFTER his corpse is found.

Tom King took nine issues to completely destroy and misunderstand Wally West’s character, even though he only needed one page for Roy Harper.

Of course Scott Lobdell spent eight years destroying the character, so King didn’t need to do much.

Roy and his daughter Lian have been two of my favorite DC characters for years. I’ve been able to relate to Roy’s issues a lot over the years. Not his past drug addiction, but his struggles with depression and abandonment issues and his fight to try and be a better person despite everything he’s gone through. He was raised in a Native American community and probably has a better understand of racism than most white people could dream of. He’s a devoted father who tries to be the best dad he can be for his daughter. But most importantly, he knows he can screw up and he knows he’s not perfect. He just wants to be good. He’s a complex and multifaceted person who is more than his trauma, and I’ve long admired that. I’ve wished I could stop beating myself up over my past mistakes and just focus on doing good instead of hating myself for not being perfect. As someone who never really had much support from my parents growing up and that feeling of being totally alone despite being surrounded by people, I empathized with the neglect he suffered form Green Arrow and the way he was essentially abandoned in “Rise of Arsenal” when he needed help the most.

But is any of that discussed in “Heroes in Crisis?”

No.

Roy’s abandonment and depression are ignored so Tom King can churn out some nonsense about abusing prescription meds given to him by doctors for his superhero injuries before he switched to heroin because it was cheaper and safer. Not because of his depression. He only started taking the meds because of his injuries and he got addicted, which I’ve seen a number of fans who suffer from chronic pain complain that this is ableist for presenting them as drug addicts.

God I hope I’m remembering that right, I’m sorry guys.

“So you go to a needle. To save your kidneys. And some money. But really, isn’t that what superheroes do? Save things?”

Objectively one of the worst things I have ever read in ANYTHING.

But it doesn’t stop there. Pretty much every character given a confessional more or less has the problems they truly did survive ignored for nonsense that never occurred or is completely out of character to the point it feels like these are SUPPOSED to be jokes. Firestorm talks about his head being on fire. Green Lantern Hal Jordan doesn’t know what “Will” is. Raven says her father, an inter dimensional monster who has tried to turn her evil over and over again and whom she hates, loves her. Minor character the Protector is revealed to be addicted to multiple drugs and was only an anti-drug crusader because he thought it was funny. That was just CRUEL.

I... I have spent so long being ashamed of a lot of the abuse I went through and it is still hard for me to talk about. Do you have any idea how disgusted I am with myself whenever I try to tell someone about what happened to me in high school? When I have to figure out a way to say that “He tried to stick his finger in my ass” and not think about how the people reading or hearing this must be laughing at me it’s so pathetic? Or when I think about the crying fit after my first day of high school begging my mom to take me out of this school and she tells me to suck it up?

And so this bothers me, because I frequently fear that my problems are just a joke. And I see the characters whom I resonate with have their problems degraded and treated as poorly thought out jokes.

Why were some of these characters even here in the first place? To deal with their problems? Even though some of them WERE ALREADY TRYING TO GET HELP. Roy in particular had his Titans teammate Lilith Clay as his substance abuse counselor, but none of that is mentioned in the lead-up to “Heroes in Crisis.” The help that Roy was already getting was ignored. His efforts at self improvement were ignored by those around him.

But it’s not as bad as the reason Wally West was in Sanctuary. In “Flash War” Wally regains memories of his twin children Jai and Iris and is told they’re not in the Speed Force but SOMEWHERE. And Wally tries to find them and can’t. So instead of Barry Allen getting the Justice League to help with the search, knowing the disappearance of these children are one example of how the universe has been damaged, Barry and Iris West allow Wally to be taken to Sanctuary to essentially get him to shut up about his missing kids. He is abandoned by the people he viewed as parents. And this is what leads to Wally’s breakdown. Despite knowing his children are out there somewhere, “Heroes in Crisis” tries to demonize Wally for wanting his family back and it’s used to make him into a suicidal mass murderer. Wally’s problems make him into a villain. He’s driven mad with grief when he hacks the Sanctuary computer thinking no one has gone through what he has, and is broken when he experiences all that trauma at once. All this because he wanted something that was perfectly rational for him to want.

Wally’s trauma is used to dehumanize him.

The dehumanization doesn’t stop there, especially in the case of Poison Ivy who is turned into a plot device for Harley Quinn’s sake.

Never forget this was a thing that Clay Mann drew and DC would’ve used before it got leaked.

This was supposed to be the cover for the seventh issue, Ivy’s bloody corpse done like a pin-up.

After being treated as Harley’s motivation for most of the series, Ivy’s revived but in such a way she’s lost most of her humanity. She gets turned into a rip off of Swamp Thing and her body is more plant than human, no longer having nipples or a vagina. She’s been murdered and brought back in a way that will let DC sexualize her as much as they want now that she’s not human anymore. But this is supposed to be treated as GOOD because she’s supposedly more powerful now and she’s alive. Like that doesn’t change the shameful way she was killed, and how she came to Sanctuary hoping to get help for the awful things that haunt her and it got her killed.

Ivy’s long been a very complex character herself and many people have looked at her as a strong, interesting, intelligent queer woman who ultimately only wants to save the Earth and be with the woman she loves. But she’s frequently the villain in her stories and often told she doesn’t understand what real love is. Instead of being recognized for the complex character and inspiration she is, Ivy also has her trauma used against her as an excuse for to be sent to die and LITERALLY be dehumanized. So what does that say to the women who resonate with her? The queer readers? What does that say?

The leaking of the Sanctuary files is also supposed to be seen as good. Wally claims he did it because he thought if people saw someone like him could make a mistake, they’d get help before he did something bad like him. That if they saw their heroes had problems, they’d get help too.

IT’S TRYING TO VALIDATE THIS VIOLATION OF PRIVACY AND HOW ALL THESE PROBLEMS ARE TURNED INTO A MEDIA SIDESHOW THANKS TO LOIS LANE AND SUPERMAN.

And Wally turns himself in he’s left to rot in jail, more alone than ever. Where’s the supposed help now?

But Booster Gold gets to hang with Blue Beetle and Harley’s with Ivy and it’s supposed to be about hope by showing no matter what mistakes you make it’s not too late and blah blah whatever that last issue was. It tries to pretend all this suffering and misery was worth it because now Wally really can represent hope by being an example!

Bros before heroes!

These people went to get help or were sent to get help, and instead they were ignored. They were killed. Their problems turned into jokes. They had their problems used against them after they died when all they wanted was to be better.

WANTING TO GET BETTER IS NOT A REASON WHY ANYONE SHOULD HAVE TO DIE. NO ONE DESERVES TO BE TREATED LIKE AN AFTERTHOUGHT LIKE THIS.

One of the worst thing out of all this is knowing NONE OF THE CHARACTERS USUALLY ACT LIKE THIS. The reason why Wally accidentally killed everyone is because King makes up a retcon involving the Speed Force that was never, EVER mentioned in any Flash comic before. He makes up things on the fly to justify why any of the characters are there at all. Someone once said how, and I’m paraphrasing, “A story should be made to fit the characters, the characters shouldn’t be made to fit the story.” It’s been clear to a lot of people this book was blatant character assassination and Dan Didio’s latest attempt to finally get rid of Wally West because he hates him and all the other legacy characters so much. A story about PTSD that could’ve been meaningful and helped people got hijacked to destroy a character. To use their trauma as a tool to make them do something horrible. To exploit trauma for shock value and dehumanize not just the characters but the people who read these books and identified with the struggles and I

HATE IT!!!!!!! 

It hurts because so many people care about these characters, and Didio would use a story that could’ve been uplifting to carry out his petty hatred.

This has been it, month after month for me. I’d get mad, and I would try to take my mind off it. I’d write fan fiction and commission artwork making fun of “Heroes in Crisis,” I’d try to vent on the internet and explain why I hate this comic. I’d connect with friends and other fans who’re equally unhappy, and I’d just feel myself getting worse and worse. I’ve had trouble sleeping thinking about this comic, stress dreams and laying awake at night before I’d start to think about how I’m a bad person too and wishing over and over again to die and end everything. To stop being a blight on the world and give it to someone who deserves to live. More importantly, that crushing sense of not being able to do anything to make this better. This powerlessness to try and change things for the better. Wishing I could do something to make it better and thinking about all the other ways I’ve failed in life. The loved ones and friends who died and I couldn’t help them. The unhappiness in my family. The state of the world. And then I’d think about how much I hate myself even more because there are more important things to worry about in the world, like what that rapist monster in the White House is doing to this country and to anyone who’s not a straight white man.

The week the final issue came out I knew right off it was going to be a train wreck and I was right. A disappointing ending to a disappointing story. More feelings of anxiety and self loathing and a feeling that my problems are nothing but a joke to mocked and exploited.

While all this was going on I had other things to worry about. In March my grandfather was hospitalized with a number of health problems due to a urinary tract infection. He spent a week gradually becoming confused and losing energy before he was taken to the emergency room when he said he was having trouble breathing. It turned out he also had a cyst, a clot, and bleeding in his brain. As me, my mom and sibling worried about his health we also had to worry about our house because my grandfather pays most of the rent and if his pension had to go towards a nursing home, we would have to move. So while worrying about my 92 year old grandfather’s health I also had to worry about possibly losing my house. And while he was recovering at the rehab hospital he had to go back to the ER again on Easter when we were told he fell during the night. He’s in another nursing home and he’s doing better thankfully, but he’s also the last grandparent I have and I’m not ready to lose him when he’s held onto his mind for so long.

So what exactly happened when the ninth issue came out that pushed me?

This past Thursday while I was at work, I get a call from my mother saying she thinks someone might be in our house because she went downstairs into my grandpa’s apartment and all the doors were open. I don’t know why she didn’t call the police or what she thought I could do since I wasn’t even in the Bronx. *Sigh* I tried to get my dad to come pick me up sooner so I could check out what was wrong and I was trying not to panic even when my mom texts me saying she’s okay but she locked her bedroom door and she’s got a blunt object. Then she says maybe it was nothing after all...

And then I get home and I see the garage door is wide open and it’s a disaster, as if someone trashed the place. I can’t get my dad out of the car and he just says “Call the police” as if he doesn’t care. I run into the house and begin checking the rooms in my grandpa’s apartment before grabbing a kitchen knife and going back to the garage. I then tell my mom what’s happened to the garage and it’s like I’m invisible. I can’t even get her outside to look and she’s more concerned about getting her dinner from around the corner. She tells me “It’s not like no one’s gotten in the garage before.”

AFTER SHE GETS ME WORKED UP THINKING SOMEONE WAS IN OUR HOUSE. AND I COME HOME AND THEY MIGHT’VE TRASHED THE GARAGE.

I literally can’t understand what was going through her head when she gave me this runaround. And I call her on it the next day, telling her how scared she got me and how it felt when she acted like I was making a big deal of nothing. I was frightened she could’ve been alone in the house with an intruder, because obviously she felt the same way if she wanted to lock herself in her bedroom. She STILL acted like it was no big deal and it’s like 2010 all over again and I’m being expected to drop everything to help her and she won’t give me any courtesy or empathy.

And then not even an hour later that Friday I get an email from my boss about a secret shopper thing and I rush to get my phone seeing he’s tried to call me. And he’s saying he’s mad at me because of something I did on Tuesday that might get our distribution license suspended or taken away completely. I’m thinking this is because of me. Because I screwed up. And I’ve had this job since I graduated high school and I might’ve ruined it completely.

And that mixed with how it’s like my mother has played fucking mindgames with me and all the other feelings and the general anger and hopelessness and thinking over and over it’s not going to get better I picked up that knife again and held it to my wrist while my boss was still on the phone.

I had it pressed against my skin and wanted to dig it in deeper.

I kept thinking “I CAN’T DO THIS I CAN’T DO THIS” seeing everything all at once, over and over again and...

I-I don’t know. Maybe just a part of me that said not to do it or something. Maybe because despite all my talk of wanted to die I don’t.

I don’t want to die.

So I put the knife down before I cut myself.

I went to work at my second job and I scheduled an emergency session with my therapist, and I tried to write.

So it’s Monday morning and I’m typing this and wondering now, if anyone actually reads this what kind of shit will I expect if people actually bother to read it.

I’m a loser who needs to get a life

I read the story wrong

I didn’t understand the story

I need to get laid

I’m just mad my favorite character died

I hate it because Tom King’s a good writer

I’m a contrarian who hates it because it’s popular

I don’t know what I’m talking about

I’m a whiny f****t

I’m conceited enough to think Tom King may ever actually read this and have him say “I’m sorry you reacted this way”

This isn’t the story King wanted to tell and he had good intentions

OH SCREW YOUR FUCKING “GOOD INTENTIONS”

My teachers had “Good intentions”

My parents had “Good intentions”

AND I AM STILL FUCKING PAYING FOR IT

I am so sick of hearing about “Good intentions.” Just because a person had good intentions doesn’t absolve them of messing up! King apparently handed in a basic outline and let editorial pick the characters. If King had good intentions, he would’ve bothered to do research on the characters instead of turning them into jokes. If he had good intentions he would’ve done a better job of showing how therapy actually CAN help people. He wouldn’t have given us a story all about death and suffering and say it’s about hope. If he had good intentions he wouldn’t have let Didio use this to get rid of Wally West.

You want to talk about people with ACTUAL good intentions? How about we talk about the people out there who’ve written about abuse and trauma and suicidal thoughts and how to address those things in ways that MATTER. In ways that don’t alienate people and can grant a better understanding of ways to act.

In ways that say “I see you. I understand you and know what you’ve gone through. You’re stronger than you think.”

Let’s talk about Jeremy Whitley writing “The Unstoppable Wasp” where Nadia Pym has a manic episode and attacks her friends, and has to be talked down from killing herself by her friend Priya because her own brother committed suicide.

Let’s talk about how Priya describes the world Nadia would create if she killed herself and convinces her she deserves to live because she makes everyone happy and she is a good person no matter what she is thinking right now.

Let’s talk about Magdalene Visaggio’s “Eternity Girl” where Caroline Sharp is a suicidal immortal superhero who wants to destroy reality because she thinks it’s the only way she can die, and her girlfriend Dani convinces her that she can build a new world for herself instead of destroying this one because Caroline’s stronger than her misery and has the power to choose what she wants.

Let’s talk about Chris Claremont’s disgust at how Carol Danvers had been brainwashed and raped and sent off to live with her rapist while her friends did nothing to help her and thought this was a HAPPY ENDING

Let’s talk about how he had Carol dress down the Avengers for the shameless way they treated her and abandoned her when she needed them

Let’s talk about Jim Salicrup and Louise Simonson working on the “Spider-Man and Power Pack” special which showed the right ways to address child abuse.

How Salicrup was able to make Spider-Man into a sexual abuse survivor without it being a joke and how his story helped a little boy tell his parents what happened to him. And how this helped Spider-Man accept what happened to him was not his fault.

How Simonson wrote about the Power Pack supporting a friend being sexually abused by her father and how they convince her she did nothing to deserve this.

Let’s talk about Rachel Pollack’s Doom Patrol run which showed that trauma is not the end of someone’s existence and that people can be happy despite what’s happened to them

Let’s talk about George and Marion who despite the trauma of having lost their bodies and being used as slaves they still choose to smile and enjoy life and love each other

Let’s talk about Kate Godwin, a transgender woman who changed her body to match the person she was inside despite what people said about her and treated her, and found a community that supported her and loved her and is a strong, good woman with the power and the empathy to help others

A woman who was outraged when a person tried to make her believe she’d been gang raped and needed trauma to make her life more meaningful.

SO TALK ABOUT ALL OF THEM AND TELL ME ABOUT KING’S “GOOD INTENTIONS”

NO ONE NEEDS TRAUMA IN THEIR LIFE TO MAKE IT MEANINGFUL. FINDING HAPPINESS AFTER YOU’VE SURVIVED SOMETHING HORRIBLE DOESN’T MAKE THAT SOMETHING HORRIBLE JUSTIFIED.

You can’t look at stories like “Heroes in Crisis” and say “Oh it’s okay because in the end it was worth it because it taught us something” and NO. IT IS NOT OKAY. HAVING YOUR PROBLEMS LAUGHED AT AND MOCKED AND DEGRADED AND TRIVIALIZED IS NEVER OKAY. NOT FROM THE PEOPLE YOU CARE ABOUT. NOT TOTAL STRANGERS. NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO DO THAT.

So yeah, maybe I am fucking pathetic for ranting about this and I should get a life and talk about more important things but I don’t fucking care! I’m angry about this and I’m gonna be angry for a long time! I’m angry about this story and I’m angry about how it affected me and the people I care about and people I don’t know and I will always be angry with myself that I tried to kill myself because of how this book made me feel and affected what I was going through.

Because stories are important to our lives. They can help us get through every day and they can make our problems not seem so bad. They can give us the strength to look at the bad parts of our life and think maybe they can change. That WE can change. We read about these people and we connect with them. We see things in them we wish to be like or things that are already in us and it can make us feel like we aren’t alone.

And even when stories aren’t enough they can help us find the people who can tell us these things. To help us find people who would care about us, and to care about them so maybe WE can help them. They’re a gateway.

So no, it’s not just a fucking comic book. And no, I don’t care what the intentions were. And I don’t care how pathetic this all sounds.

This, this was a bad story. This was a harmful story. And people deserve better. We don’t deserve to keep living in an age where stories like this, that can make us feel like we’re nothing, keep happening. We deserve stories that show us our lives are not defined by our trauma, we are NOT jokes, we are strong, and we deserve to live. That is not what “Heroes in Crisis” was and you will never convince me otherwise.

I had problems long before this story came out. I do not blame it for things that happened to me before. I do not blame it for my assault and abuse. I blame it for making me feel more like I don’t deserve to live and that what I’ve gone through doesn’t matter. I blame it for making me feel like my hard work and attempts to make my life better are meaningless.

This is not okay.

You wanna fucking blast me for this, go right ahead.

[megalony]

Don’t leave me- Part 5

Another instalment to my latest series, thank you to everyone for the feedback it is much appreciated.

Thank you to @rogertaylorsbitontheside for all the support in helping me write this.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4

Enjoy.

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Glancing her eyes up from the book that was resting comfortably in her lap (Y/N) looked over the distance from the couch to the front door to the vast apartment the three of them shared together. Fear riling up in her chest when she noticed the look on both her boyfriend's faces. She knew it had been a bad idea. Roge had been getting a bit restless being in the apartment for almost two weeks having only left once for his time to do the shopping trip for the week. As much as the drummer loved being able to have time off at home with the ones he loved due to not being able to play the drums and needing time to get back into the swing of things, being cooped up wasn't the best thing for him. He used to being out and being active almost every day with only a few days rest here and there. But he had had almost a month off from work, two having to stay at the hospital and now coming up to two weeks being with his partners at home. Ben and (Y/N) understood he wasn't used to having nothing to do like this. His emotions were up and down, sometimes he was fine with just lounging about and catching up on rest and sleep, other times he went to the music room to try and write some new songs to calm his emotions and his wandering mind.

But he simply couldn't sit in the flat any longer without snapping or going mad and they completely agreed. Ben was also getting to the point he felt he wanted to go out and not just to the shops wearing a hoodie to conceal his identity from onlookers and the media. (Y/N) didn't feel the same on that front. Going out wasn't appealing to her at all, her body was just beginning to get back to normal now with not needing to take the antibiotics that stopped the infection from getting worse and got rid of it. The stitches that ahd been splayed across her lower abdomen were also gone now but that didn't mean it didn't hurt to walk around too much. Going out and being withint he risk of getting harassed by the media didn't feel like a good move. (Y/N) was perfectly fine being in the apartment, it was her safe place and she could sit and catch up on some much needed reading, perfectly happy for the boys to go out on their own. Her mind did wander though. Roger was highly strung, if someone said one wrong thing to him he would blow up and he could just as easily start a fight in the mood and emotional turmoil he was going through right now. She didn't want that to happen or for him to come home with more broken bones, he had damaged the plaster on his hand by thrashing his arm on the counter in sheer annoyance. His right hand was in the plaster and it was his dominant hand, he couldn't write, reach for his mug with that hand or grab the remote to the tv or strum his guitar. It was getting frustrating and he wanted it off. As well as Roger's temper (Y/N) worried about Ben because although he wasn't as likely to detonate like Roger was, he was emotional and rather sensitive to people talking badly about him or someone close to him. If someone from the media hassled them in the street he would come home feeling broken and worse than he already was. But at the same time, they couldn't all hide in the apartment for the rest of their lives. There was going to come a point where (Y/N) would be well enough to go back to work, Roger got the okay to get the plaster off and felt emotionally alright to start practicing and touring with Queen again. And when Ben decided he felt okay to start acting on another project. They couldn't put their lives on hold and stay in the flat as much as the thought was appealing to them all. It seemed that the boys were ready to venture out just for a little while today. Ben had decided they go to a bar and get a drink and just wander around town for a while to clear their heads to which Roger quickly agreed. Booze always seemed like a good idea to him. Closing the book with the marker in place (Y/N) set it down on the coffee table to her left, throwing the cover off from her torso and legs to allow herself to get up. Yet when she got to her feet they didn't seem to want to take her over to the boys. Eyes watching the pair as Roger threw his keys onto the ground, body storming over to the kitchen though he wasn't too sure why, his plastered hand coming out and violently swiping a glass from the counter and onto the floor. Both Ben and (Y/N) jumping on the spot at the shattering sound that Roger didn't seem to hear at all. His chest heaving as he gripped the counter with his undamaged hand so tightly his knuckles were about to break through the protective barrier of skin covering them. "Ben, what happened?" (Y/N) thought it better to ask Ben rather than Roger who still looked like he wanted to throw a tantrum, his head snapping up as he decided to answer instead. "Fucking reports sticking their noses where they're not wanted that's what happened!" Venom laced into his words as he glanced around for something else to smash, wishing his knuckle wasn't broken so he could punch the wall right now. Eyes moving to see Ben simply staring down at the keys in his hand as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, his shoulders slumped as he looked defeated. "What did they say?" There was clear hesitation in (Y/N)'s voice as she felt her hands beginning to shake, her heart speeding up as did her breathing. It must have been something had for Roger to be so riled up like this and for Ben to be completely shattered. The actor took a few steps into the apartment, not lifting his gaze as the hoodie he was wearing shaded his face from view. Placing his keys on the side Ben rubbed a thumb and index finger to the bridge of his nose, trying to fight the tears as he felt like the world was against the three of them. They had fought against all of the rumours and accusations about them when they first got together. They had dealt with film companies not wanting Ben because of his relationship and Queen getting hassled because of Roger, they had dealt with (Y/N)'s buisness as a photographer going down due to people being reluctant to work with her. They had dealt with being swarmed by paparazzi whenever they went out together. Ben was realising that he couldn't fight against them on this. There was simply too much speculation about what had happened that they couldn't deny and that they couldn't hide away from. People had seen Roger's breakdown at the hospital and him and Ben sobbing together and again in the corridor of the hospital. They had noticed it was the boys together in the hospital without (Y/N) meaning she was the one who was ill. News had gotten around about the operation and about the baby they had all lost and Ben couldn't take the rumours and how everyone seemed to want to hurt them all. He hated it and it wasn't fair that they were being treated so differently just because they loved two people instead of one. "Some reporters followed us from the bar and around the town, they thought it was funny to taunt us." His words were spoken so calm but when he finally lifted his head silent tears were falling from his bloodshot eyes. "Someone blabbed about the baby so they decided to ask who the dad was as if it fucking mattered. Like either me or Rog are hurting more than the other because obviously both of us can't care for a child that clearly can't be both his and mine!" Ben watched (Y/N)'s face fall as tears welled in her eyes, her arm winding around her middle as she sat down on the sofa again not sure if her legs would be able to support her weight for much longer. Both Ben and Roger obviously knew that the baby couldn't have been both of theirs, but that never came up in a discussion because none of them cared about such a small detail like that. To them, their baby would be all of theirs because they would all be bringing it into the world and bringing it up between them. So what if it was Ben's or if it was Roger's, they would still both be dad's to that child so the specifics didn't matter to any of them. When the reporter asked that question Ben couldn't seem to be able to walk anymore, his feet becoming stuck to the pavement beneath them as Roger tensed, nostrils flaring as he spun around to ask the man to repeat the question. He didn't know how someone could have the nerve to follow a couple round town who clearly were in pain and were grieving and ask such a personal question that didn't concern anyone else and that no one should need to know. It didn't make a difference to anyone if they knew this information or not and to ask them both when they were in pain so soon after losing their child was sickening. Roger wasn't left handed so taking a swing at the man with that hand had been hard but he managed to cause a nosebleed which seemed like an achievement. Both his hands flying out to push the man back and slap his camera away so he couldn't dare try and take a picture of them. Unfortunately, someone else nearby decided to capture the moment and now the couple looked like they were the bad guys for defending their relationship and privacy. Turning around Ben pressed a hand to his forehead, feeling a sudden aching behind his eyes that was quickly becoming overwhelming. A groan passed through his lips mixed with a whine of pain as he sniffed, beginning to walk towards the corridor. "I'm going to bed." He mumbled, not even waiting for a response from either of them as he walked down and shut the door behind him needing to close his eyes and allow his mind to have some form of rest. There was too many emotions flowing through his veins right now and honestly Ben didn't want any of them because they simply made the tears fall faster. Going out for a drink with Roger had been perfect right up until the moment they left the bar. All they had wanted to do was go for a stroll around and clear their heads but instead, their minds got bombarded with questions that were too rude and insensitive to their relationship. Roger allowed his eyes to follow after his boyfriend before he looked to his girlfriend, a sudden thought popping into his head as he moved his hand signalling for her to follow him. (Y/N) narrowed her eyes through silent tears but did as requested, getting up and making her way over to Roger before he suddenly rounded the kitchen counter and walked with determination in his strides. Her feet speeding up to try and keep his pace as he stormed into their shared bedroom earning a whine from Ben. The actor having just managed to close the curtains and bury himself under the cover to provide more darkness to ease his aching head before his boyfriend stormed in. Allowing streams of light to follow especially when he turned on the light. "Rog let him sleep." (Y/N) stated quietly, eyes glancing to Ben who pulled his head from under the cover, blinking rapidly as he watched Roger with annoyance and confusion. The actor was burnt out emotionally and he needed to go to sleep. "I mean this in the nicest way, fuck off." Ben muttered, head falling back against the pillow becoming too heavy for him to hold up. "Or at least get in bed." Ben added after a second thought, eyes faling closed though he listened to the movements of his partners, annoyance rattling through him at realising neither of them were leaving the room. A noise of content passing through his lips when (Y/N) crawled under the covers next to him as he was laying in the middle. Back leaning up against the headboard as Ben moved to rest his head on her lap, sighing in content when he felt her fingers carding through his blonde locks in a relaxing manner. (Y/N) kept her eyes on Roger as he shuffled about the room clearly looking for something. His movements intriguing Ben too much who managed to crain his sleepy eyes open to watch their boyfriend find his laptop under a pile of clothing. Holding onto the electronic Roger perched himself on the end of the bed, forcefully opening the lid with his left hand, cursing at knowing his typing would be even slower than usual with his hand in plaster. "What are you doing?" (Y/N) asked quietly, feeling her own eyes becoming droopy with sleep that she felt she had been deprived of. Watching as Roger typed furiously with one hand, his other attempting to reach into his pocket after a few minutes. "Fucking thing." He mumbled in annoyance, quickly realising he couldn't take something from his pocket with the plaster on. Grabbing his wallet with his free hand Roger grabbed his card before attempting to type his details into the computer. His cursing at how useless his hand was pulling Ben from sleep when his eyes closed against his will. Turning his head the actor looked up to (Y/N) through hooded lashes, both sharing confused glances wondering what their boyfriend was up to. Knowing they weren't going to get an answer until he had finished whatever he was doing, being too concentrated on getting it done quickly and effectively to explaining what it was exactly he was doing. "Aright, get up." Roger suddenly stated, forcing the lid of the computer down before placing it at the foot of the bed, hand reaching out to shake the legs of his partners causing grumbles of annoyance from the pair. "Why?" Ben whined, managing to push himself up but not attempting to get off the bed. "Pack a bag the pair of you, we're leaving first thing in the morning." The statement caused Ben and (Y/N)'s eyes to widen as they glanced at one another again, confusion and slight worry coursing through their veins at where Roger was planning on them all going. Both sitting and watching him storm around the room though it was clear in his stance that he was at least a little bit calmer now. Turning around he threw a bag at Ben who swiftly caught the leather bag, still wanting an explination. "Um, where?" He stated, slight sarcasm in his words as he pushed himself to his feet, his headache dulling slightly as he watched Roger finally stop walking. Turning to face the both of them as he sighed. "We're not staying here with shitheads like that following us around every corner. I booked a one way flight to LA for tomorrow morning so get packing, we're going to my flat and we can come back whenever we want to finish our 'holiday'." There was no way Roger was going to allow the three of them to stay here in London when clearly no matter what they said or did they were going to get harassed. They could ask for privacy and they would get rude comments about how they were the ones being insensitive and rude or that they were playing up to the rumours about them. They could shout and scream that this was their lives and that they didn't want anyone intruding and they would again be shown as angered stuck up people whob were weird because of their relationship. Roger could see clearly that (Y/N) wasn't ready for that hassle meaning she wasn't about to leave the flat anytime soon and Ben was crumbling to pieces from the hassle and the pain they were all feeling. It was certainly doing nothing for Roger's temper, he was going to end up with more broken bones if this carried on. He had bought a flat in LA a few years back when Queen began to make a lot more more than previous, deciding that since they were in the states so much he wanted a place there so he could go to relax or a holiday or to make music over in the states. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to go and have a holiday with the two people he loved and not be harassed every second of the day. (Y/N) and Ben felt their hearts swelling at the thought of getting away from everything that had happened. That Roger felt so strongly about them recovering together that they were going on a holiday of sorts. It would be the second holiday they all had together due to having demanding jobs. The pair wrapping their arms around the drummer and crushing him between them, a feeling of content rushing through the air around them.

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

The Friendship List by Susan Mallery

 Two childhood friends

One a widow the other a single parent

Both have baggage they need to deal with

Why?

They need to move on with their lives and truly live!

A catalyst is needed but will it be enough?

Are they ready and willing to change?

And, if willing, will they be able to do what is necessary?

 What I liked:

* The friendship between Unity and Ellen

* The eventual personal growth of both women

* The fact that both women were able to earn a good living in spite of everything

* Dagmar – Unity’s wise older friend with good sense and years of experience

* The teens…sometimes they seemed more mature than the adults

* Thaddeus: a good man that deserved the best – a great book boyfriend

* Keith: a coach, father, and overall good man though a bit neurotic about keeping his daughter safe

* That there was a happy ending for all

 What I didn’t like:

* More a quibble than a dislike-  I had a bit of difficulty believing that two 34-year-old women would behave as Unity and Ellen did…they seemed, in some ways, to have been stunted in their teens although their backstories indicated why this might have happened

* Wondering what happened to Luka – missed him in the epilogue

 Did I enjoy this book? For the most part

Would I read more books by this author? Yes

 Thank you to NetGalley and Harlequin for the ARC – This is my honest review.

 3-4 Stars

ABOUT THE BOOK:

Already a worldwide success in mass market and trade paperback formats, Susan Mallery’s newest hardcover is an emotional, witty, and heartfelt story about two best friends who are determined to help one another shake things up and live life to the fullest...only to discover that possibilities are everywhere--especially in the most unexpected of places.

 Ellen and Unity have been best friends basically since birth, but they couldn’t be more different. Unity married her childhood sweetheart just after high school and became an Army wife, moving from base to base…until her husband's shocking death in the line of duty leaves her a widow. Grief-stricken, it’s time for Unity to come back home to Ellen—the only person she can trust to help her rebuild her life. But Ellen has troubles of her own. Boys never seemed to notice Ellen…until one got her pregnant in high school and disappeared. Her son is now 17 and she’s wondering what to do with herself now that he’s heading off to college and he's literally her entire world.

 But now that Ellen and Unity are reunited, they’re done with their stale lives. It’s time to shake things up and start living again, knowing that they'll always have one another to lean on. So they create a list of challenges they have to accomplish--everything from getting a tattoo to skydiving to staying out all night. And whoever completes the most challenges is the winner. But with new adventures and love just around the corner, there’s no such thing as losing…

  EXCERPT

Chapter One

 “I should have married money,” Ellen Fox said glumly. “That would have solved all my problems.”

 Unity Leandre, her best friend, practically since birth, raised her eyebrows. “Because that was an option so many times and you kept saying no?”

 “It could have been. Maybe. If I’d ever, you know, met a rich guy I liked and wanted to marry.”

 “Wouldn’t having him want to marry you be an equally important part of the equation?”

 Ellen groaned. “This is not a good time for logic. This is a good time for sympathy. Or giving me a winning lottery ticket. We’ve been friends for years and you’ve never once given me a winning lottery ticket.”

 Unity picked up her coffee and smiled. “True, but I did give you my pony rides when we celebrated our eighth birthdays.”

 A point she would have to concede, Ellen thought. With their birthdays so close together, they’d often had shared parties. The summer they’d turned eight, Unity’s mom had arranged for pony rides at a nearby farm. Unity had enjoyed herself, but Ellen had fallen in love with scruffy Mr. Peepers, the crabby old pony who carried them around the paddock. At Ellen’s declaration of affection for the pony, Unity had handed over the rest of her ride tickets, content to watch Ellen on Mr. Peepers’s wide back.

 “You were wonderful about the pony rides,” Ellen said earnestly, “And I love that you were so generous. But right now I really need a small fortune. Nothing overwhelming. Just a tasteful million or so. In return, I’ll give back the rides on Mr. Peepers.”

 Unity reached across the kitchen table and touched Ellen’s arm. “He really wants to go to UCLA?”

 Ellen nodded, afraid if she spoke, she would whimper. After sucking in a breath, she managed to say, “He does. Even with a partial scholarship, the price is going to kill me.” She braced herself for the ugly reality. “Out-of-state costs, including room and board, are about sixty-four thousand dollars.” Ellen felt her heart skip a beat and not out of excitement. “A year. A year! I don’t even bring home that much after taxes. Who has that kind of money? It might as well be a million dollars.”

 Unity nodded. “Okay, now marrying money makes sense.”

 “I don’t have a lot of options.” Ellen pressed her hand to her chest and told herself she wasn’t having a heart attack. “You know I’d do anything for Coop and I’ll figure this out, but those numbers are terrifying. I have to start buying lottery scratchers and get a second job.” She looked at Unity. “How much do you think they make at Starbucks? I could work nights.”

 Unity, five inches taller, with long straight blond hair, grabbed her hands. “Last month it was University of Oklahoma and the month before that, he wanted to go to Notre Dame. Cooper has changed his mind a dozen times. Wait until you go look at colleges this summer and he figures out what he really wants, then see who offers the best financial aid before you panic.” Her mouth curved up in a smile. “No offense, Ellen, but I’ve tasted your coffee. You shouldn’t be working anywhere near a Starbucks.”

 “Very funny.” Ellen squeezed her hands. “You’re right. He’s barely seventeen. He won’t be a senior until September. I have time. And I’m saving money every month.”

 It was how she’d been raised, she thought. To be practical, to take responsibility. If only her parents had thought to mention marrying for money.

 “After our road trip, he may decide he wants to go to the University of Washington after all, and that would solve all my problems.”

 Not just the money ones, but the loneliness ones, she thought wistfully. Because after eighteen years of them being a team, her nearly grown-up baby boy was going to leave her.

 “Stop,” Unity said. “You’re getting sad. I can see it.”

 “I hate that you know me so well.”

 “No, you don’t.”

 Ellen sighed. “No, I don’t, but you’re annoying.”

 “You’re more annoying.”

 They smiled at each other.

 Unity stood, all five feet ten of her, and stretched. “I have to get going. You have young minds to mold and I have a backed-up kitchen sink to deal with, followed by a gate repair and something with a vacuum. The message wasn’t clear.” She looked at Ellen. “You going to be okay?”

 Ellen nodded. “I’m fine. You’re right. Coop will change his mind fifteen more times. I’ll wait until it’s a sure thing, then have my breakdown.”

 “See. You always have a plan.”

 They walked to the front door. Ellen’s mind slid back to the ridiculous cost of college.

 “Any of those old people you help have money?” she asked. “For the right price, I could be a trophy wife.”

 Unity shook her head. “You’re thirty-four. The average resident of Silver Pines is in his seventies.”

 “Marrying money would still solve all my problems.”

 Unity hugged her, hanging on tight for an extra second. “You’re a freak.”

 “I’m a momma bear with a cub.”

 “Your cub is six foot three. It’s time to stop worrying.”

 “That will never happen.”

 “Which is why I love you. Talk later.”

 Ellen smiled. “Have a good one. Avoid spiders.”

 “Always.”

 When Unity had driven away, Ellen returned to the kitchen where she quickly loaded the dishwasher, then packed her lunch. Cooper had left before six. He was doing some end-of-school-year fitness challenge. Something about running and Ellen wasn’t sure what. To be honest, when he went on about his workouts, it was really hard not to tune him out. Especially when she had things like tuition to worry about.

 “Not anymore today,” she said out loud. She would worry again in the morning. Unity was right—Cooper was going to keep changing his mind. Their road trip to look at colleges was only a few weeks away. After that they would narrow the list and he would start to apply. Only then would she know the final number and have to figure out how to pay for it.

 Until then she had plenty to keep her busy. She was giving pop quizzes in both fourth and sixth periods and she wanted to update her year-end tests for her two algebra classes. She needed to buy groceries and put gas in the car and go by the library to get all her summer reading on the reserve list.

 As she finished her morning routine and drove to the high school where she taught, Ellen thought about Cooper and the college issue. While she was afraid she couldn’t afford the tuition, she had to admit it was a great problem to have. Seventeen years ago, she’d been a terrified teenager, about to be a single mom, with nothing between her and living on the streets except incredibly disappointed and angry parents who had been determined to make her see the error of her ways.

 Through hard work and determination, she’d managed to pull herself together—raise Cooper, go to college, get a good job, buy a duplex and save money for her kid’s education. Yay her.

 But it sure would have been a lot easier if she’d simply married someone with money.

 *

 “How is it possible to get a C- in Spanish?” Coach Keith Kinne asked, not bothering to keep his voice down. “Half the population in town speaks Spanish. Hell, your sister’s husband is Hispanic.” He glared at the strapping football player standing in front of him. “Luka, you’re an idiot.”

 Luka hung his head. “Yes, Coach.”

 “Don’t ‘yes, Coach’ me. You knew this was happening—you’ve known for weeks. And did you ask for help? Did you tell me?”

 “No, Coach.”

 Keith thought about strangling the kid but he wasn’t sure he could physically wrap his hands around the teen’s thick neck. He swore silently, knowing they were where they were and now he had to fix things—like he always did with his students.

 “You know the rules,” he pointed out. “To play on any varsity team you have to get a C+ or better in every class. Did you think the rules didn’t apply to you?”

 Luka, nearly six-five and two hundred and fifty pounds, slumped even more. “I thought I was doing okay.”

 “Really? So you’d been getting better grades on your tests?”

 “Not exactly.” He raised his head, his expression miserable. “I thought I could pull up my grade at the last minute.”

 “How did that plan work out?”

 “No bueno.”

 Keith glared at him. “You think this is funny?”

 “No, Coach.”

 Keith shook his head. “You know there’s not a Spanish summer school class. That means we’re going to have to find an alternative.”

 Despite his dark skin, Luka went pale. “Coach, don’t send me away.”

 “No one gets sent away.” Sometimes athletes went to other districts that had a different summer curriculum. They stayed with families and focused on their studies.

 “I need to stay with my family. My mom understands me.”

 “It would be better for all of us if she understood Spanish.” Keith glared at the kid. “I’ll arrange for an online class. You’ll get a tutor. You will report to me twice a week, bringing me updates until you pass the class.” He sharpened his gaze. “With an A.”

 Luka took a step back. “Coach, no! An A? I can’t.”

 “Not with that attitude.”

 “But, Coach.”

 “You knew the rules and you broke them. You could have come to me for help early on. You know I’m always here for any of my students, but did you think about that or did you decide you were fine on your own?”

 “I decided I was fine on my own,” Luka mumbled.

 “Exactly. And deciding on your own is not how teams work. You go it alone and you fail.”

 Tears filled Luka’s eyes. “Yes, Coach.”

 Keith pointed to the door. Luka shuffled out. Keith sank into his chair. He’d been hard on the kid, but he needed to get the message across. Grades mattered. He was willing to help whenever he could, but he had to be told what was going on. He had a feeling Luka thought because he was a star athlete he was going to get special treatment. Maybe somewhere else, but not here. Forcing Luka to get an A sent a message to everyone who wanted to play varsity sports.

 He’d barely turned to his computer when one of the freshman boys stuck his head in the office. “Coach Kinne! Coach Kinne! There’s a girl crying in the weight room.”

 Keith silently groaned as he got up and jogged to the weight room, hoping he was about to deal with something simple like a broken arm or a concussion. He knew what to do for those kinds of things. Anything that was more emotional, honest to God, terrified him.

 He walked into the weight room and found a group of guys huddled together. A petite, dark-haired girl he didn’t know sat on a bench at the far end, her hands covering her face, her sobs audible in the uneasy silence.

 He looked at the guys. “She hurt?”

 They shifted their weight and shook their heads. Damn. So it wasn’t physical. Why didn’t things ever go his way?

 “Any of you responsible for whatever it is?” he asked.

 More shaken heads with a couple of guys ducking out.

 Keith pointed to the door so the rest of them left, then returned his attention to the crying girl. She was small and looked young. Maybe fifteen. Not one of his daughter’s friends or a school athlete—he knew all of them.

 He approached the teen, trying to look friendly rather than menacing, then sat on a nearby bench.

 “Hey,” he said softly. “I’m Coach Kinne.”

 She sniffed. Her eyes were red, her skin pale. “I know who you are.”

 “What’s going on?” Don’t be pregnant, don’t be pregnant, he chanted silently.

 More tears spilled over. “I’m pregnant. The father is Dylan, only he says he’s not, and I can’t tell my m-mom because she’ll be so mad and he said he l-loved me.”

 And just like that Keith watched his Monday fall directly into the crapper.

 *

 Keith left work exactly at three fifteen. He would be returning to his office to finish up paperwork, supervise a couple of workouts and review final grades for athletes hovering on the edge of academic problems. But first, he had pressing personal business.

 He drove the two short miles to his house, walked inside and headed directly for his seventeen-year-old daughter’s room.

 Lissa looked up from her laptop when he entered, her smile fading as she figured out he was in a mood. Despite the attitude, she was a beauty. Long dark hair, big brown eyes. Dammit all to hell—why couldn’t he have an ugly daughter who no guy would look at twice?

 “Hi, Dad,” she said, sounding wary. “What’s up?”

 “Spot check.”

 She rolled her eyes. “Seriously? There is something wrong with you. I heard what happened at school today. I’m not dumb enough to date a guy like Dylan who would tell a tree stump he loved it if it would have sex with him. I’m not sleeping with anyone and I’m not pregnant. I told you—I’m not ready to have sex, as in I’m still a virgin. You’re obsessed. Would you feel better if I wore a chastity belt?”

 “Yes, but you won’t. I’ve asked.”

 “Da-ad. Why are you like this? Pregnancy isn’t the worst thing that could happen. I could be sick and dying. Wouldn’t that be terrible?”

 “You can’t win this argument with logic. I’m irrational. I accept that. But I’m also the parent, so you have to deal with me being irrational.”

 He pointed to her bathroom. She sighed the long-suffering sigh of those cursed with impossible fathers and got up. He followed her to the doorway and watched as she pulled the small plastic container out of the bathroom drawer and opened it.

 Relief eased the tension in his body. Pills were missing. The right number of pills.

 “You are a nightmare father,” his daughter said, shoving the pills back in the drawer. “I can’t wait until I’m eighteen and I can get the shot instead of having to take birth control pills. Then you’ll only bug me every few months.”

 “I can’t wait, either.”

 “It’s not like I even have a boyfriend.”

 “You could be talking to someone online.”

 Her annoyance faded as she smiled at him. “Dad, only one of us in this house does the online dating thing and it’s not me.”

 “I don’t online date.”

 “Fine. You pick up women online, then go off and have sex with them for the weekend. It’s gross. You should fall in love with someone you’re not embarrassed to bring home to meet me.”

 “I’m not embarrassed. I just don’t want complications.”

 “But you do want to have sex. It’s yucky.”

 “Then why are we talking about it?” He pulled her close and hugged her, then kissed the top of her head. “Sorry, Lissa. I can’t help worrying about you.”

 She looked up at him. “Dad, I’m taking my pills every day, not that it matters because I’m not having sex. I’m not. I’ve barely kissed a guy. Having you as my father makes it really difficult to date. Guys don’t want to mess with you and risk being beat up.”

 “Good.”

 She smiled even as she hit him in the arm. “You’re repressing my emotional growth.”

 “Just don’t get pregnant.”

 “You need to find a more positive message. How about ‘be your best self?’”

 “That, too. Gotta go.”

 “I’m having dinner with Jessie tonight. Remember?”

 “No problem. Be home by ten.”

 He got back in his truck but before starting the engine, he quickly texted Ellen. I need a couple of beers and a friendly ear. You around tonight?

 The response came quickly. Only if you bring fried chicken. I have beer and ice cream.

 You’re on. See you at six.

Excerpted from The Friendship List by Susan Mallery, Copyright © 2020 by Susan Mallery, Inc.. Published by HQN.

The Friendship List : A Novel

Susan Mallery

On Sale Date: August 4, 2020

9781335136961, 1335136967

Hardcover

$26.99 USD, $33.50 CAD

Fiction / Romance / Contemporary

384 pages

BUY LINKS:

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

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Indie Bound

Kindle

Nook

Google Play

Apple Books

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Bookshop.org

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

SUSAN MALLERY is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of novels about the relationships that define women's lives—family, friendship and romance. Library Journal says, “Mallery is the master of blending emotionally believable characters in realistic situations," and readers seem to agree—forty million copies of her books have been sold worldwide. Her warm, humorous stories make the world a happier place to live.

 Susan grew up in California and now lives in Seattle with her husband. She's passionate about animal welfare, especially that of the two Ragdoll cats and adorable poodle who think of her as Mom.

 SOCIAL LINKS:

Twitter: @susanmallery

Facebook: @susanmallery

Instagram: @susanmallery

Author website: https://www.susanmallery.com/

Q&A with Susan Mallery

Q: Where did the inspiration for The Friendship List’s plot come from?

A: The inspiration for The Friendship List came from a reader—but I don’t think it’s exactly the story the reader was asking for. A couple years ago, a reader suggested I write a story about empty nesters, a couple whose children had grown up and were moving out. I considered the idea, but it didn’t immediately sing for me.

Then, while washing dishes—which is when I often get ideas—I thought to myself, “What if it isn’t a couple, but a single mom? And what if she had her baby really young, like in high school? She would be in her midthirties when her kid went to college. What would that be like?”

That’s the spark that led to Ellen, a single mom who had her son when she was a senior in high school. Since then, she has put his needs first, always, to the point where she hasn’t dated really at all in her adult life. When her son was little, she worked her butt off to raise him and go to college to become a math teacher.

The story starts as Ellen overhears her son telling a friend he can’t go away to college because his mom doesn’t have a life without him. They’re a team, and she needs him. Ellen is horrified that she’s holding him back, and she knows she has to do something drastic to convince him that it’s safe for him to follow his dreams.

Unity, Ellen’s best friend for as long as they both can remember, is a young widow, still mourning the death of her husband three years ago. She’s stuck in her grief, and reluctant to change that because getting over her grief might mean really letting go of the love of her life forever. But for Ellen’s sake, Unity comes up with the friendship list—a series of challenges designed to shake up their lives.

One way or another, this will be a summer that will change them forever. The Friendship List is a celebration of friendship. I know authors aren’t supposed to have favorite books, but I have to admit, this is one of my favorite things that I’ve ever written—certainly the funniest. Every day, I couldn’t wait to get to my desk, excited to write that day’s fun scene. It was pure joy from page 1 to The End, and I hope you’ll love it, too.

Q: Who is your favorite character in this novel and why?

A: I love both of the friends, but Ellen probably squeaks out a narrow win over Unity simply because her journey was so much fun. Think about it—she had her kid when she was seventeen years old, and from that moment on, her life revolved around him so she missed out on the things most people experience in their twenties. Dating, parties, bar-hopping. She was home studying and taking care of her kid.

And in fact, he’s the impetus for her to change, as well, because she  sees  that what’s best for him now is for her to let go, to get a life of her own. When she realizes all that she’s been missing, she dives in with her whole heart and body, with such enthusiasm that she had me laughing every day. Suddenly she wants to try everything all at once. Love, love, love, love her.

Q: Of the challenges in the book, which was the most fun to write about? Why?

A: Oh, that’s a tough one! I don’t know if I want to tell you my favorite-favorite because it might be too much of a spoiler. So instead, I’ll tell you one of my other favorites, which is more of a teaser than a spoiler. 😊 One of Ellen’s challenges is to wear clothes that fit, instead of her normal habit of wearing clothes that are at least three sizes too large for her. Baggy is her comfort zone. The first time she wears an outfit that shows the shape of her body, her pal Keith can’t help looking at her in a whole new way. Here’s a clip:

He stared at her in confusion. Something was different with Ellen, he thought, trying to figure out what it was.

He cataloged her appearance. Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail, just like always. She had on makeup maybe, which was a surprise, but made her eyes looked bluer than usual. As for what she was wearing, it was just some shirt thing and pants that stopped just below her knee. Nothing out of the ordinary except—

He swore silently. The clothes fit. For once they weren’t swirling around her, the extra fabric concealing every part of her body. He could see the shape of her waist and her hips, the outline of her thighs. And breasts. Ellen had breasts!

He realized he was staring and forced his gaze away. Of course she had breasts. Women had breasts. Ellen’s were no big deal. Only he’d never noticed them before and he didn’t want to see them now.

Q: What is your idea of a good personal challenge for yourself?

A: The challenges in The Friendship List are meant to push the women out of their comfort zone and be a little intimidating for them, so my personal challenge will have to do the same. Hmm… Oh! How about a plunging V neckline? Cleavage makes me really self-conscious, but I admire women who can proudly show off their curves.

I’m nervous just thinking about it!

Q: Do your characters tell you their stories a bit at a time or all at once? Do they ever pull you in unexpected directions changing up the plot you originally planned?

A: Yes, yes, and yes. It depends on the story. Very rarely, a story will come to me fully formed. Daughters of the Bride was like that. A gift book. That almost never happens. Usually, I get a spark of an idea. I write up some notes, then set it aside. If I’m still thinking about it, I know it has potential. I get a lot of ideas that never go anywhere. They might make fine stories for someone else, but if they’re not tugging at me, I let them go.

I’m on the extreme-plotter end of the plotter/pantser spectrum. (For those who don’t know, a plotter is a writer who plots the story in advance. A pantser is a writer who flies by the seat of her pants, without knowing where the story is going.) I generally work out story problems during my plotting process, which makes me feel free to relax and sink into the story while I’m writing.

When I get into the flow of a book, the characters do take over and sometimes they do surprise me. When they take me in a direction I didn’t expect, I have to step back to look at the big picture to adjust. I never try to force a character to do something that doesn’t feel right for him or her. Every decision must be motivated.

In The Friendship List, Unity threw me for a loop early on. I knew she was still in love with her late husband, but until I wrote a particular scene, I didn’t realize just how broken she still was. I did have to make some very serious adjustments to her road to a happy ending. And in the end, as I brought her out of that darkness, I cried. So satisfying!

Q: Do you have pets? How do the animals you have now or have had in the past influence writing animals into your stories?

A: Yes, I have three pets. Two ragdoll cats, siblings Alex and Lucy, and a miniature poodle named Kelli. I love animals of all kinds. I’m a big supporter of Seattle Humane and the amazing work they do for animals in and around Seattle.

Animals play a big role in my books. When they have a part in the story, they are genuine characters because I believe, like humans, each animal has its own unique quirks and personality traits. The book I’m working on right now will be the first book in my new series, Wishing Tree—Christmas romances—and there are two dogs in the book who I adore. Bella is a Great Dane who loves to play dress-up in cute canine ensembles, and who is intimidated by a dachshund named Burt. The first Wishing Tree romance will be out in 2021.

Q: Is there a genre of books that you have not written yet but might contemplate writing in the future? What might that be?

A: I recently toyed with the idea of writing a thriller. I even did quite a bit of research on Bitcoin, which was going to be a big subplot. I decided against the thriller, but research is never wasted—one of the characters in The Friendship List became a Bitcoin millionaire, and then a regular-money millionaire. Plus, I'm kind of proud of myself—it took me two weeks of research to be able to understand crypto-currency, but I'm now I'm at least cocktail-party level literate. 😊

Q: What was the first book you sold/published and how did you celebrate when you received the acceptance letter from the publisher?

A: The first book I sold was a historical romance called Frontier Flame. A few months after that, I sold a book to (then Silhouette) Special Edition. Both books came out the same month, so the first time I was published was with two books. It was very heady! Of course, before that and after that I had many story ideas rejected. Even now, although infrequently, one of my ideas can be rejected. It happened recently. Still stings, but not as badly.

I celebrated my first sale by calling all of my writer friends and squealing over the phone, and then by going out for a nice dinner with my husband.

Q: What do you love to do when not writing?

A: I love hanging out with my friends—and I miss that right now because of the coronavirus. Friendship is one of the most fundamental relationships in a woman’s life. You might argue “in a man’s life, too,” but from what I’ve observed, most men don’t have the same visceral need for community that women do. My husband once told me, “You’re all I need.” Which is sweet and romantic and probably true. I love him dearly, more than any other human being on the planet, but I need friends, too. My friends are the family I chose, and I nurture those relationships in every way I can.

[letscuttothefeeling]

season three episode six

This week’s Siesta Key recappé is brought to you by crayons, water-proof phone cases, and your toxic ex. Let’s cut to the feeling!

Nothing says “bold” like strutting through the home of your not-yet-boyfriend’s parents without a bra or pants on. I salute Alyssa for trying this out! I have a feeling Gary may very well be end game for her, and she’s trying to seduce him by way of Alex. Which is so baller! Anyways, you can tell Alyssa is trying desperately to remain calm when she and Alex start discussing the previous evening. Alex won’t shut up about Juliette, and even though what he’s saying is negative, it’s really sus that all of their conversations center around his ex. I mean, Alex does say he “doesn’t ever want to go back there” (meaning Juliette), but I have a feeling the producers intentionally included that clip as a little clue called foreshadowing!

Alex and Alyssa aren’t the only two dishing about their night out – let’s cut to a pool day with Kelsey, Hannah, Kelly, and Juliette. Kelly is so randommé. I miss Victoria. And since Victoria isn’t there, it’s not a very eventful hang, but we do learn one key piece of information: there is an impending break up on the Key between my least favorite couple of all time: Juliette and BORING ROBBY! Before I have too much time to get excited, we’re at a lit pregame with Brandon, G Baby, and Jared. All three of the boys are SOL in the love department. We’ve got BG, who is hopelessly trying to win Amanda’s affection, G Baby, whose girlfriend just had a mental breakdown and vowed never to return, and Jared, who is under the twisted impression that he and Kelsey are getting serious. Jared…are we watching the same show? Besides some make outs, what gives you the impression Kelsey wants to be locked down? Get off of my screen, you’re embarrassing yourself. Your narcissism physically sickens me. Someone please explain to me how subpar straight men have the unabashed confidence of Gisele.

OH no Jared, it seems that you and Kelsey are, in fact, on very different pages regarding your relaysh. See: Kelsey and Jake on some sort of paddleboarding date, which, by the way, sounds like a waking nightmare. What’s my ideal first date? Definitely not doing a physical activity that requires a strong core and wearing a bathing suit in broad daylight. But I guess when you’re a profesh model like Kelsey, it’s no problem! Speaking of Kels, it’s time to talk about her flirting style. It never fails to make me feel deeply uncomfortable. Kelsey’s cringey moments aside, Jake had a monopoly on the disturbingly awkward comments of the day. When he called Kelsey a guy’s girl…I audibly screamed. PSA: If you are a male who potentially wants to foster some sort of relationship with me, be it platonic or romantic, kindly refrain from referring to me as a guy’s girl! Like oh my god, thank you for deciding I’m “chill/cool” enough to be male! Wow! What a compliment! Jake has officially rubbed me the wrong way. Jake is nothing like werewolf Jacob Black. It’s like, even though Bella was totally comfortable posting up with the boys in Jacob’s garage, blowing off homework and eating pizza while watching him reconstruct junkyard motorcycles behind Billy and Charlie’s backs so that Bella could self-induce hallucinations of Edward brought on by her own delusions, he never called her a guy’s girl! Because feminism. Also, New Moon was an instant classiqué.

Okay, can Juliette’s bitchy boss relax? Someone get this woman Xanax, immediately. Your boutique just literally doesn’t matter. I’m cackling as this woman tells Juliette that she’s on a “probation area period.” Sure, Courtney, because you have people chomping at the bit to get this job. But Juliette’s not the only one #grinding in corporate America – Alex and Chloe sure are working hard at the Crescent Club! I mean those two are putting their BACKS into it. The Crescent Club as we know it now was built on their blood, sweat, and tears. Thank you, Gary, for instilling a tireless work ethic in these two! If you look closely, you’ll see Chloe’s master plans for the club. The “plans” are intricate doodles sketched with crayon, reminiscent of Carlos’s birth certificate in Benchwarmers. You know the one. Anyways, after they watch people put down fugly astroturf and a few umbrellas, they call it a day and immediately start doing what they do best – talking shit about Juliette. Alex reiterates that he isn’t “going backward” with Juliette, and I’d like to reiterate that he most certainly will be.

I’m going to need all of you to start blasting break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored. Did you know the song was actually written for Juliette’s inevitable breakup with Boring Robby? Ha! Anyways, thank god Boring Robby brought wine - he’s going to needette. Honestly, the actual breakup probably wasn’t as brutal for Robby as watching this episode was. It’s obvious to Robby (and everyone) that once Juliette saw Alex, she realized she wasn’t actually in love with Robby. But seeing Juliette tell her friends that she was never in love with him and felt suffocated throughout their relationship? Probably wasn’t fun to watch! And then you factor in the scene where Robby’s friends berate him (rightfully so) for throwing Amanda’s phone in the ocean, and then you factor in the scene where Robby apologizes to Amanda with a waterproof case, and then you factor in the scene where he’s portrayed as a creepy, not attractive boring person, (oh wait that’s every episode…) But anyway, just not the best look for Boring Robby! Hopefully, he had some Pinterest-worthy quotes about self-care queued up following this episode’s air.

Okay, White Buffalo Saloon – you haven’t failed me yet. Give me some good content. After cheers-ing to boots and daisy dukes, the night starts off on a promising note. But it’s quickly soured by Jared. For some reason, he pulls Jake aside and starts yelling at him about Kelsey. Like, if you have an issue with Kelsey…shouldn’t you talk to Kelsey? He makes a complete ass of himself, and once again, I find myself applauding Kelsey for her behavior. She calmly explains what has been obvious since she joined the cast in season one – she isn’t ready for a relationship. Jared, looking like an idiot thanks to the straw in his drink and his “Daddy” t-shirt, storms off. Men do not mix with straws or gold chains. You cannot change my mind on this.

After Amanda ditches Brandon on the line-dancing floor for her ex, Juliette seems to be longing for an ex as well. Alex senses that Juliette is on the verge of a breakdown, so naturally he seeks her out just to ensure she has no chance of moving on. This scene is an emotional one. Everyone has an Alex, the boyfriend your friends hate but you can’t get over, and it’s sad watching Juliette fall right into his trap again. He’s only sweet to you when he thinks you’re moving on!! He wants you as a safety net! Run the other way! It was particularly sad to see her drunkenly admit she still loved him. Hated it for her. If only there were some life-altering event involving Alex that would finally help Juliette put this chapter to rest forever. We’ll just have to wait and see…