#he finds solace in going to Vanessa for comfort

[chloesimaginationthings]

You think FNAF Helpy misses Michael sometimes?

[riahlynn101]

Whumptober 2023:

Notes -

Despite my best efforts, some of my writing might come across as sloppy and unedited. This is especially evident in the final ten(ish) days of whumptober. 

Some of the days are blatantly incomplete, namely: Day Twenty-Five, Twenty-Nine, and Twenty-Six.

I hope to go back and edit all the stories at some point, and maybe even fully complete the ones listed above. 

I appreciate you all for reading my stories. Thank you :D!!

Table of contents -

Day One: “Drugging.” Set in the FNAF movie universe. TW: non consensual drugging, implied/referenced kidnapping and murder, and William being himself. (2,571 words). 

Day Two: “I’ll Call Your Name, but You Won’t Call Back.” Set during pre-security breach. GGY. Based on some posts by ‘Gregory’s Personal Bodyguard’ on twitter. TW: Blood, the mimic being itself, mind control, implied/referenced murder and kidnapping, and mild gore. (1,199 words). 

Day Three: “Journal.” Set in the FNAF Movie Universe. Short and sweet. Kind of Unfinished, but I wasn’t feeling day three’s prompts. TW: Referenced death in childbirth. (240 words). 

Day Three: “Betrayal.” Set in the FNAF movie universe. Deals with Mike finding solace in another, only to find that that trust has been misplaced. Implied Schmelly. TW: Implied/referenced kidnapping and murder. (1,158 words). 

Day Four: “You in There.” Set pre-security breach. GGY. Gregory breaking free from his mind control (briefly). Forced found family. Again, based on posts by ‘Gregory’s Personal Bodyguard’ on twitter. TW: mild gore, minor character death, blood, implied/referenced kidnapping and murder, brainwashing, and the mimic being itself. (1,273 words). 

Day Five: “It’s Broken.” Set in the FNAF movie universe. Vanessa having a breakdown over her brother, and Mike comforts her. They bond over their shared trauma. Implied Schmelly. TW:Implied/referenced murder and kidnapping. (731 words). 

Day Six: “It Should Have Been Me.” Set in the FNAF movie Universe. Mike grieves his brother. Centers on guilt and what happens to those left behind (both figuratively and literally). TW: implied/referenced kidnapping and murder, and grief. (1,126). 

Day Seven:  “Can You Hear Me?” Set in the FNAF movie universe. Mike dies of sudden cardiac arrest at the tender age of 12, the twist? It happens the same day and place that Garrett gets kidnapped (and murdered). Short and sweet. TW: death, implied/referenced murder and kidnapping, and grief. (639 words). 

Day Eight: “Shaking.” Set in the FNAF movie universe. In the dead of winter, Mike stumbles outside in nothing but a tee-shirt and pajama pants, convinced he hears his little brother’s voice. TW: Implied/referenced kidnapping and murder and major character death. (1,400 words). 

Day Nine: “Mistaken Identity.” Set pre-Security Breach. The Mimic mistakes Gregory for his long dead friend, David. TW: Death, mild gore, kidnapping, and The Mimic being itself.

 (1,036 words). 

Day Ten: “Restraints.” Set in the FNAF movie universe. Mike has spent most of his life searching for his brother. He would give up everything to have him back. Maybe he should have been more careful about what he wished for? Tw: major character death, blood, gore, violence, and hurt/very minimal comfort. Poor Mike :(( (word count 1,183). 

Day Eleven: “You Said You’d Never leave.” + “You’re a Liar.” Set in the FNAF movie universe. In the safety of his dreams, Mike talks to Garrett. It goes about as well as you could expect. 

(1,070 words).

Day Twelve: “Insomnia.” Set in the FNAF movie universe. It’s so annoying when you’re trying to sleep, and your sibling refuses to let you sleep. Mike knows that better than anybody, even months after his brother’s disappearance. (1,118 words). 

Day Thirteen: “Cold Compress.” Set pre-security breach. A short piece from Vanny’s (Vanessa’s) POV about Gregory getting sick. The Mimic is no help. (683 words). 

Day Fourteen:��Water Inhalation.” Set in the FNAF movie universe. (Young) Mike almost drowns. TW: drowning, a child in distress, very heavily implied domestic violence, and some minor manipulation.  (1,372).

Day Fifteen: “I’m Fine.” Set in the FNAF movie universe. After the bite of ‘83, Mike is stuck in a state of shock.  TW: Blood, implied injuries, childhood trauma (including abandonment), and guilt. (1,091 words).

Day Sixteen: “Flatline.” Set in the FNAF movie universe. A prequel of sorts to the FNAF movie about how Abby wound up in her brother’s care. TW: suicidal ideation, childhood trauma, abandonment issues, death, and grief. (1,374 words)

Day Seventeen:“Leave Me Alone.” Set in the FNAF movie universe. William gets his son back the only way he knows how - through kidnapping. (1,160).

Day Eighteen: “Blindfold.” Set in the FNAF movie universe. William does what he does best, being a bastard. TW: Blood, major character death, kidnapping, murder, William being himself, grief, childhood trauma, and guilt. (1,399 words).

Day Nineteen: “Psychological.” Set in the FNAF movie universe. Short story about Mike’s medication. TW: mental illness, grief, and guilt. (337 words). 

Day Twenty: “Found Family.” Set in the FNAF movie universe. Michael gets kidnapped at an early age. (One-very unlikely-way Michael Afton becomes Mike Schmidt). TW: referenced infertility, implied mental instability, and kidnapping.  (1,171 words). 

Day Twenty-One: “Polaroid.”  Set in the FNAF movie universe. William turns away a pregnant ex-fling who claims the baby’s his. He soon grows to regret this, and 100% deals with it in a healthy way *wink, wink*. TW: William being himself, mentions of pregnancy (non-graphic), heavily implied slut-shaming, and stalking. (1,577 words). 

Day Twenty-Two:  “Vehicular Accident.”  Set in the FNAF movie universe. (Young) Mike is hit by a car.  TW: Major character death, implied/referenced kidnapping and murder, mentions of needles, blood, and children in distress. (1,095 words).

Day Twenty-Three:  “Who’s There?” Set in the FNAF movie universe. (Young) Mike deals with grief. TW: implied/referenced murder, children in distress, and (implied) child neglect. 

(1,376 words). 

Day Twenty-Four: “Goodbye Note.” Set in the FNAF movie universe. Mike loses custody to Aunt Jane. He spirals. (Please, do not read if you’re not in a good mental space). TW: SUICIDE WARNING, major character death, grief, mental illness, guilt, and misuse of medications. 

(1,095 words).

Day Twenty-Five:  “They’re Not Breathing.” Set in the FNAF movie universe. Mike is asthmatic. He is startled, and has an attack while at work. A certain golden bear helps him through it. (May contain spoilers for the FNAF movie). TW: implied/referenced kidnapping and murder, children in distress, improper depiction of an asthma attack, and past medical trauma. (Unfinished). (537 words). 

Day Twenty-Six: Alternative prompt - “Broken.” Set in the FNAF movie universe. A short story about how Michael Afton became Mike Schmidt. (May contain slight spoilers for the FNAF movie, but only slightly). TW: Child murder, implied/referenced murder and kidnapping, implied neglect, and children in distress. (754 words). 

Day Twenty-Seven: “Scars.” Set in the FNAF movie universe. A short story about William giving Michael up for adoption. (No spoilers for the FNAF movie, just me trying to cope). TW: mentioned pregnancy and adoption. (488 words). 

Day Twenty-Eight:“Bloody Knife.” Set in the FNAF movie universe. Mike is killed minutes after watching his little brother die. (No spoilers for the FNAF movie, kind of). TW: Child death, major character death, blood, slight gore, dissociation, and a child in distress. 

Day Twenty-Nine:“What Happened to Me?” Set in the FNAF movie universe. (Pt. 1 of 2 stories. Part one is told from Mike’s POV, and part two is told from Garrett’s POV). Mike is invited back to the newly reopened Freddy Fazbear’s pizzeria. All is well….until it isn’t. TW: implied/referenced kidnapping and murder, child death, major character death, blood, betrayal, and mild gore. (Unfinished). (780 words).

Day Thirty: “Not Much Longer Now.” Set in the FNAF movie universe. (Pt. 2 of 2. This part is from Garrett’s POV). (May contain mild spoilers for the FNAF movie). Getting his brother to come back is the easy part but getting him to stay….that’s the hard part. (1,289 words). 

Day Thirty-One: “Setbacks.” Set in the FNAF movie universe. Mike tries his best to deal with his grief. (Contains spoilers). (780 words). 

[dancergurl3000]

I don’t think I’ve ever really told my own story on this blog before but since I’m a writer I’ll start by just saying that you do not ultimately get to choose what kind of family you are born into. I am an adult child of alcoholic parents. My parents are both alcoholics. One is sober, the other is not. My entire life has been about taking care of other people. My entire life has been a total and complete struggle to maintain friendships, relationships, and jobs. I’ve been in therapy since I was 10. I am a survivor of child abuse and sexual assault. And I do not think I have ever been told the following by anyone: 1. That I am loved, 2. That I can be anything that I want to be when I grow up, and 3. That I was safe to tell my own story. I never learned how to trust people at a young age. I have a college degree, so I am educated, but I basically put myself through college. And my father worked throughout my childhood and was just very angry at his kids when he came home. My brother and I were forced to go to a high school we did not want to go to, the high school where he taught at. No one even learned my name when I was a teenager. I was just Mr Dunne’s daughter. And I was bullied, picked on, teased, beaten up, relentlessly in school. Mainly I think it was mostly because I was mostly good at school. I graduated high school in the top 30 percent of my grade. I graduated with high honors. Guess I thought that if I graduated like that, my mom would quit drinking. By that time, my dad was physically shutting me up in psych wards about my mother’s alcoholism. And he kept doing it. Until summer 2012 when she finally admitted that she had a drinking problem. I spent my 21rst birthday at the rehab facility that she was staying at, telling her at a family counseling session: “mom I can’t have a relationship with you if you’re drinking.” I never understood why I had the family I had. Other families where I grew up had different dynamics. Mine was: my parents worked two or three jobs and drank on the weekends and virtually every holiday and my brother and I were miserable. That’s just the way it was. I escaped through watching Television, my favorite TV show depicting women in heroic positions like “Buffy the vampire slayer.” I escaped with music. I loved listening to Vanessa Carlton on my Walkman before high school classes began at 7:26 in the morning. Her 2007 album “Heroes and Thieves” was on repeat and it’s on my top ten favorites of all time. I write this blog not to garner sympathy but understand that a child has no power over someone else’s drinking. I have been diagnosed with severe PTSD by three different psychotherapists in the capitol region, and my father still doesn’t believe them. Or me. I have explained how I have panic attacks if I’m alone in public downtown. He doesn’t think that happens, or that I am “faking.” My hope is that my writing one day can bring people hope that you are not alone. I know how it feels specifically to be brandished as just a liar, a piece of shit, nothing more as my dad always says. I hope someday there is a community of people who can find solace and comfort in knowing that you’re not crazy, the people in your life just don’t want to see the truth in any situation. I’ll always pray for my dad. And I pray that there is hope for children who just want to be heard and that their pain is totally and completely valid. I never wanted to write my own story. I just know what alcohol and drugs do to a family. It destroys a family from the inside out. Because if you can’t see that alcohol is destructive, then I guess nothing matters in the end. Please be patient with us kids. We are trying. We are trying to heal and recover from an insidious disease. From a disease that no one really wants to deal with. Maybe one day my dad can tell me how he’s sorry. Maybe one day I hope to be able to forgive him. Because it wasn’t my fault. I hope someday he sees more than he originally did.

[star-going-supernova]

Vanessa has to work the day shift and sees a child that looks like one Vanny killed. She just makes it to an isolated area of the pizzaplex before she falls apart. The animatronics find her and give her some much needed comfort.

This has no connection to any preexisting AUs of mine, though I can’t deny the similarities to the strings ’verse. Um. I’d like to apologize in advance for what I’m about to do to y’all. The opportunity was there and I couldn’t not take it. Angst ahead, my dudes! Referenced child death, too, obviously. Nothing graphic, tho.

What They Deserve

It was thankfully rare for Vanessa to be asked to cover any part of the day shifts. But every now and then, she’d be asked to come in a few hours early to help with covering closing, and the overtime made it just worth it enough for her to agree. 

This would be her first day shift since finding out that her mysterious blackouts were actually the result of mind control making her kill children. That was a fun night, finding that out. It had been the closest thing to a living hell she could possibly imagine, really.

It felt like a worthy punishment, that all the memories belonging to her alter ego of sorts, Vanny, came roaring into her head after Vanny was, effectively, terminated. However it worked, Vanny’s death broke the wall separating them, leaving her host to deal with the consequences. 

It was nothing less than Vanessa deserved, she figured, for failing to realize sooner and put a stop to it. It might not have been her mind, her decisions, but the blood was still on her hands. 

And the memories were hers too.

The night shift that had once felt dreadfully lonely now offered solace in its peace and quiet. But the prospect of facing children again was necessary, in the way amputations were sometimes necessary. 

She couldn’t tell if clocking in that day, the distant screaming laughter ringing in her ears, felt more like she was losing a limb or gaining an extra, one she didn’t want. Like a parasite. 

But she had to do this. Hiding in her apartment wasn’t going to possible forever, and letting her fear and paranoia and depression get the best of her seemed too much like letting the plague that had been Vanny win. 

It was just… sometimes she didn’t think all of Vanny was gone. Vanessa hadn’t blacked out since her tag-along’s demise, but a voice that was too much like her own sometimes giggled in the back of her head. 

It mocked her victory, which never felt like much of a victory at all. The cost wasn’t worth it. 

(Freddy never looked her in the eyes anymore.) 

• • • 

It’d been going so well. Vanessa mostly hung out around the golf course, where the employee she was replacing was primarily stationed. She’d scared some teenagers away from trying to stick their golf clubs in the mechanical gators’ mouths, she reunited a trembling child with their parents, and she put the extra golf balls in her pockets to good use. Kids were always delighted when they putted one into a pond, only for her to whip a new one out and present it to them.

And she didn’t have a single breakdown. Progress. 

An hour out from closing, most of the families left were making their way to the atrium for the final show of the evening. Vanessa would get to clock out soon and take a nap on a sofa until her real shift started, and the prospect of sleep was just about the only thing keeping her going. 

The night shift had spoiled her. No people, no interactions, no solving problems. No screaming kids. No kids at all, in fact. 

She’d just finished giving directions to a pair of preteens and was waving them off when she happened to look off to the side a bit. Before her eyes were able to fully focus, she registered a kid running by in her peripheries. Brown hair, blue t-shirt. No details. Just brown hair and a blue t-shirt.

The next thing she knew, she was sitting on the ground with Monty crouched in front of her. His mouth was moving, and she could see that he was holding her wrists between them, but she couldn’t feel his hands. Her whole body felt cold and numb, and the ringing in her ears sounded like laughter. 

They were in one of the back hallways, and she nearly threw up when she realized she had no memory of how she got there. No, no. Vanny was dead, she was gone, Vanessa couldn’t be blacking out again. 

Her chest heaved, which was how she figured out she was crying. The world felt vague and distant, and she felt disconnected. Floating. A wall was hard and solid against her back, no matter how much she tried to sink into it. 

“Vanessa?” Monty said. He sounded patient, like he hadn’t probably been repeating her name for the past however many minutes. 

“I—I saw,” she hiccuped, on the verge of hysteria. 

“I know,” Monty said, gently holding her in place when panic sent her thrashing. Bright pink scratches covered her forearms—made by human nails. By her own. He kept her from making them worse. “I know.” 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” She squeezed her eyes shut and slid further down the wall. She could remember it. Remember the look in his eyes as he died, and it was all she could see. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean—I didn’t want to! Gregory—!” 

Monty hushed her, pulling her into a hug when she couldn’t find coherence again. He had a show to get to, surely, but he didn’t let her go as she fell to pieces. It was a kindness she didn’t deserve, but it was one almost all of them offered her. 

(Freddy never looked her in the eyes anymore. Because they weren’t just Freddy’s eyes these days. Not since… well. Vanny wasn’t the only one to die that night. 

And no one deserved to have to look into their murderer’s eyes.)

[dbnightingale24]

It Wasn’t Supposed To Go This Far

Chapter 3

~~

Look at me!! Posting more than one chapter of a story this week!!! YAYAYAYAY!!! Thank you so much to @pagesoflauren for helping with this chapter and for putting up with me (ya saint). I hope you all enjoy!!

Warnings: Swearing, Smoking, Arguing, Jealousy, Angst, Dialogue heavy...I’m pretty sure that’s all. 

Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter:

My Limb - Hayley Williams

Word Count: 2235

I do not give consent to have my works/stories posted anywhere else. 

~~

The sunlight crept through the blinds in Steve’s room and begrudgingly woke Vanessa. She squinted, groaned, and rolled over before wrapping herself tight in Steve’s sheets. She knew it shouldn’t, but the fact that Steve’s bed sheets smelled so much like him brought her comfort. He always brought her comfort. While she had always felt a bit of resentment towards him for just getting over her so quickly, she would have been lying if she said she didn’t find solace in his friendship. Being around him always felt like being home. Something she had never felt with Bucky.

She closed her eyes and rolled around for a bit, letting herself get lost in Steve’s scent. She had been guilty of a few harmless crimes during her relationship with Bucky, but the main one was imagining that she was with Steve instead of Bucky. Especially when Bucky pissed her off. 

Bucky. He had gone from being her knight in shining armor to a complete stranger to her. The whole routine just felt like a one-trick pony show at this point. Why accept an apology for shitty behavior when you know the person is going to do it again? No, she wanted to take the day to just sit at home to sit, sulk, and ponder. Maybe it really was time for her to call it quits. They had both given it a fair shot, but you can’t force what isn’t meant to be. She learned that lesson from watching her own parents.

She started thinking that maybe she should just stay single for a while. Better yet, she thought that she should stay away from superheros forever. Steve hadn’t proven to be much better. The minute Bucky put up a little competition, he backed off completely. Making her feel foolish for thinking there was something there. After years of her waiting for him to do...something. No, all superheros were proving to be were super pains in her ass.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the door to Steve’s room open softly, and a very sweaty Steve quietly made his way in. “I take it training went well?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was already awake. My brain won’t shut the fuck up…sorry, I know you don’t like swearing.”

“As many times as you’ve sworn around me, it’s not a big deal anymore. I’m trying to be more chill.”

“You can start being “more chill” by never saying that again.”

“Ha ha,” he teased as he threw his shirt at her “how are you feeling?”

Vanessa had seen him shirtless a million times, but she’d never get over it. “Uh I’m okay, I guess. I just want to go home. I know what he’s up to and I’m in no mood for it.”

“He doesn’t mean to be so blunt and mean. He does love you.”

“You know who it’d be nice to hear that from, Steve? Buck. Also, it would be nice if his explanations weren’t cloaked in excuses. We’ve been together long enough that he should know better.”

“He’s been-”

“I know, Steve. He’s been through a lot. I know and I do my best to be patient, but he doesn’t fucking talk to me about shit. He will talk about literally everything except his feelings and I’m tired of it. Ugh, now I’m just catching an attitude. None of this matters; I just wanna go home. I just need to think and-”

“Hey, can we talk for a bit?” Bucky questioned, poking his head into Steve’s room.

“I’d really rather not” Vanessa snapped back, instantly turning her gaze back to the window.

“I’m sorry Steve, would you mind if we borrowed your room for a minute?” Bucky whispered, as Vanessa pulled the covers over her head.

“Yeah, I need to take a shower anyway,” Steve mumbled before heading out and closing the door.

“Ness, I’m sor-”

“Save it, Buck. I’m not in the mood to do any of this today. I just want to go home and spend the day by myself,” Vanessa mumbled, grabbing her phone and checking the time.

“We can’t fix this if you’re not willing-”

“You really wanna make this my fault right now? That’s how you’re approaching this situation?” she growled.

“I’m not. I know this is my fault and I just want to fix this. I want us to get past this.”

“I really can’t do this. I can’t and I don’t want to. It’s going to turn into the same argument it always turns into and it’s exhausting. I’m exhausted and I just need space right now.”

“Sounds like you have no problem talking to Steve about it.”

“Here we fuckin' go. C’mon, get it out. It always comes back to Steve.”

“Because you talk to him!”

“I talk to him because he talks to me! You want me to sit here and just hold everything in all the damn time! I’ve been holding things in for three years! What else do you expect from me? What do you want from me, Buck? Hmm?”

“For you to just give me-”

“Space? Time? Understanding? What haven’t I given you in the past three years? What have I been so sorely lacking in? You don’t want me to talk about our relationship to the few friends I have outside of your friends , you get mad when I talk to your friends, and then you don’t ever tell me about the demons you’re fighting or how you feel. So, what the fuck else would you like for me to do? How much longer do I need to hold in my frustrations and not talk to anyone about how I’m feeling?”

“You weren’t always this difficult.”

“Neither were you! You’ve changed! I obviously don’t know what happened while I was gone because of the Snap, but something in you changed,” she huffed, as Bucky turned his the other way. Trying to hide how annoyed he was getting. He was the one who wanted to talk. “You’re not my best friend anymore! Half the time it feels like you’re my worst fucking enemy! We don’t have fun anymore, we don’t hangout, we don’t watch shitty movies, and we sure as fuck don’t make love like we used to! You changed on me and it feels like you’re holding me hostage! This isn’t fair to me and you know it! It’s not like this is some short term bullshit, it’s been this way for a while and you know it!”

“You know that dating an Avenger-”

“I would advise you to tread very lightly, Buck,” Vanessa growled through gritted teeth.

“What? You knew that dating an Avenger comes with its fair share of sacrifices. You knew what you were getting into.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? That’s the hill you wanna die on?! Yes Buck, I did know that dating an Avenger came with its fair share of sacrifices and setbacks. What I didn’t know was that I’d have to put up with an emotionally unavailable boyfriend. A boyfriend that won’t even talk to a therapist, let alone his fucking girlfriend. Stop setting the scene with me as being overbearing and dramatic! I know I can be a bit much at times, but at least I’m fucking trying! You do the same shit every time we argue and I’m fucking tired of it! Jesus, why do you fight so hard if you’re not willing to change?!”

“Because I love you,” Bucky stated softly. “I am willing and I’m trying-”

“It’s the same thing every time, Buck!” Vanessa exclaimed, tears brimming her eyes. “You want me to love you without reservation, but you make it damn near impossible. I can love you with all that I have in me, but none of this works if you don’t start letting me in.”

“Can we please-”

“I just want to go home. I’ll call you later. Please let Steve know that I’ll be waiting outside” she huffed, wiping her eyes and getting out of bed.

“I can take you home, babe.”

“I don’t want you to,” Vanessa sighed, before pushing her way past Bucky.

Putting on her shoes and grabbing her purse, she quickly made her way out of Steve’s room. When she got to the common room, she saw that everyone was sitting on the sofa. She knew that they had heard the whole thing, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. It definitely wasn’t the first argument they had heard and if her relationship was on its way out, at least everyone heard her side of it.

By the time Steve had made his way out, Vanessa had riffled through two cigarettes. She couldn’t wait to give up the nasty habit…again. Steve gave her a weak smile and she just nodded in response.

“Well, it’s a nice summer day so you have options.”

“About?” Vanessa questioned, raising an eyebrow and placing a hand on her hip.

“How I get you home.”

“Oh? Let’s hear it Rogers” she laughed, crossing her arms.

“Motorcycle or car?”

“Now that’s a tough choice,” Vanessa laughed, “how about the car this time, but I’ll hold you to a motorcycle ride before the end of summer?”

“Whatever you want, Doll,” he smiled. “Ready?”

“Yes, please,” Vanessa all but groaned as she quickly made her way over to him.  

The car ride was silent for the most part. Vanessa just stared out the window while Steve tried to think of the right thing to say.

“I don’t think you were wrong,” he muttered softly.

“Hmm? What about?” Vanessa questioned, turning her attention to him.

“I hear both sides of the arguments more than anyone else. Especially with Bucky. You’re not wrong and he has become a bit much to deal with. I’m not trying to butt in or anything, I just don’t feel like you’re wrong in anything that you said. None of it is fair to you.”

“Would you mind telling him that?”

“I have,” Steve laughed softly as he pulled up to her apartment complex. “We got into an argument and we didn’t speak for a few days.”

“Why the argument?”

“He said some things and I said some things...it doesn’t matter. Anyway, he came around a few days later and said he would do better. That was...two months ago?”

“Well, thanks for trying,” Vanessa laughed, shaking her head at the thought of the two arguing over her.

“It will get better and he’ll come around. Still, it’s not right for him to put you through all of this and I’m sorry.”

“It’s really okay,” she sighed. Just then, a thought popped into her head. “Hey, what are you doing for the rest of the day?”

“I actually have nothing going on for once,” he laughed, “I’ll probably just go over paperwork and watch some movies on TCM.”

“Well, I’m always up for TCM,” Vanessa laughed, “but do you wanna spend the day together?”

“What?”

“It’s been a while and I get the feeling we could both use a day of fun.”

“What about Bucky?”

“What about him? He’ll be fine. If he gets pissy, I’ll deal with him. It’s not a big deal. What do ya say?” she asked, a big smile on her face.

**

@sweetflowerdreams

[hisunshiine]

Escape ✈︎ Chapter 6

✈︎ chapter 6: But I Still Want You Pt. 1       | ✈︎ Escape Series — 18+, Mature  

    ✈︎ genre: angst

    ✈︎ word count: 1898 words

    ✈︎ pairing: Jin x YN

    ✈︎ warnings: personal issues with abandonment, YN is a foster child, healthy attachment issues, crying

    ✈︎ summary: It's time for you to make your decision about the island: stay or go? Some people make the decision harder for you than it should be.

| series masterlist | previous | next | hisunshiine | mrsparkjimin18 |

You can’t believe that you won the GA and were invited to Bangtania Island, not to mention that once you arrived here, you were let in on the secret that this is also a secret getaway location for the guys?! You truly love it here, and feel so accepted and appreciated by everyone, like you have a family and friends again. The life you left behind wasn’t much of a life so to say. You worked a basic job, you had no family, having been a foster child your whole life, and you had no real connection with anybody. When you found BTS and Army, that was the closest you ever felt to having family.

Unfortunately, having the life you’ve had, you begin to feel yourself wanting to isolate again. Nobody has actually done anything to make you feel you need to, but you are afraid of being abandoned. You’ve always had that fear, been afraid that people will leave you, so you put up walls so that people don’t get too close. You also tend to run from anybody that tries and gets too close, unsure of their reasons. You weren’t putting out any signs that you wanted people close, so you thought, so you were wary of anyone who tried to breach the walls you had built. It was safer that way. When people made attempts to get closer than you wanted them to, that was your cue to jump ship. It was better to leave them.

You have dated, but as soon as they try to get too intimate, and not in the sexual way, you run away. Sex, that was easy. Growing up with your circumstances, you weren’t ever taught the same ideals about virginity and sex like people who were from ‘loving’ families appeared to be. No mom and dad trying to convince you that sex was sacred, or meant for just one person for your entire life. You had the normal education, very cut and dry, and scientific. Penis, meet vagina: insert here. And as you got older you learned it could also be penis meet anus, or vagina meet vagina, or mouth meet anus, mouth meet penis, and the oh so wonderful mouth meet vagina.  So being physical with someone wasn’t deemed as intimate as actually letting people into who you were. What your thoughts and feelings were. It was that level of opening up and letting people in that was scary. You knew this from childhood that it’s a lot less painful when you decide to walk away, versus someone walking away from you.

It’s currently your twelfth day here. And now you only have two more days to decide whether you want to stay or head back to your life of unattached isolation. You have truly enjoyed your time here thus far, there really is the feeling of peace and serenity, able to share in the familiar love with everyone of BTS. That’s a safe area for you. Love for BTS can’t hurt you. At the same time, you still feel a sense of solidarity, like you are surrounded by people yet you still feel alone. You decide you are going to hurry to the restaurant to get something to-go before you head back to your temporary living quarters.

On the way there, you remember the first time you saw Jin in person.

“So here is a map of the island, everything is color-coded and in the map key. I think your first agenda should be to unpack and then meet us down at Jin’s restaurant.” Vanessa hands you your map and copies of your NDA and other rules and regulations to be followed on the island.

Once you unpack your belongings, you take a short detour before heading to the restaurant. You are enchanted by the happiness of everyone that is here, enjoying the private island, and the guys. You haven’t really witnessed any arguments or issues, and that brings you solace, but you still keep your guard up.

When you enter the restaurant, Talia notices you and waves you over to their booth, “Hey! Y/N! Over here! We almost ordered without you.” She laughed, then introduced you to Dahlia and Xael.

You all order your food and carry on with small talk, you ask questions about different activities you saw in your guide for the island, and then you see him. Jin came walking out of the kitchen, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a towel. He was talking to one of the residents that helps him out in the restaurant.

He turned his head and your eyes met, it seemed like an eternity, but it only lasted about 10 seconds. He smiled, you blushed, then he went back into the kitchen.

When your food was ready, Jin made sure to help your waitress bring your food to the table. “Hello ladies,” he said with a gentle smile, blushing when he looks at you. “A new arrival I see. Well I am Seokjin, the Bangtania Island Chef. If you are ever hungry, come to my restaurant, if I’m not here, the you can come to the dorm...I mean, when we have parties, I always cook for that as well. Anyway, enjoy your meals ladies,” he winks at you as he places your plate in front of you.

How could you know that would lead to you eating there everyday, just to steal a glance of him, or have him smile and wink at you. All of the silent and distant flirting, that you feel would never go anywhere, and you want to keep it that way.

You walk into the restaurant and stand at the to-go counter, but it’s pretty quiet. You have been waiting for about 10 minutes, being consumed by your thoughts, until the grumbling in your stomach reminds you that you are waiting to order food. You are surprised that nobody has come to help you, especially since the whole time that you’ve been in Bangtania everyone has been super helpful and attentive. But then you get worried, so you head behind the counter to check the kitchen. Maybe Jin closed early and forgot to lock up, you aren’t sure, you just want to make sure everything is okay.

You open the swinging door to the kitchen, probably with a little too much force in your worried state.

“Whoa, whoa!”

It’s all you hear before the pile of dishes crashes to the floor, causing you to scream.

“Jin-ah I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you, I was just here to order food to-go, and --”

He cuts you off.

“Frighten me? You were the one who was scared! Hahaha! I was just putting these dishes away and you swung the door into me.”

You feel the tears well up in your eyes, and you try to hold them back but they begin streaming down your face.

“Hey, it’s okay, you don’t have to cry. I’m not mad, we have many more dishes to replace these ones. Just please don’t cry.”

He grabs a clean towel from the shelf and begins to softly blot the tears from your cheeks. He has a look on his face of worry, as if your sudden tears were a shock to him. You reckon they were. You drop your head in embarrassment, though he softly grabs your chin with his thumb and forefinger and lifts your head back up. Your eyes meet his brown ones, taking in the way that his eyebrows are furrowed together, his lips softly parted creating his beautiful look of concern directed towards you.

“I told you, I’m not mad, now clean your face and help me pick this up. Then we can sit and have a meal together. I haven’t eaten since breakfast and that is a long time for me, you know?”

You giggle, because you do know. Jin loves to eat.

After you finish salvaging the dishes that did not break and sweeping up the ones that did, Jin says he has something special to make you. You make your way to a booth in the corner of the restaurant furthest from the windows, the most secluded booth in the whole restaurant. When Jin comes out with a tray, he scans the restaurant for you.

“Y/N?” His voice is loud, trying to find you.

“Did she leave? After I made her this delicious food, she runs off?” You hear him mutter under his breath, but not low enough that you don’t hear him.

When he turns to head back to the kitchen, he sees you sitting in the hidden booth, shoulders bounce from giggling so hard.

“You think that’s funny? I make this food and you have me to believe you left? Oh, hahaha…” He laughs with you as he sets the food on the table. He pulls off his apron and joins you at the booth, you both begin eating in silence. After a while he asks, “Y/N, you’ve been here almost two weeks, what do you think so far?”

You shove a dumpling in your mouth, as you are not ready to answer that question. He smiles encouragingly, his bee-stung lips surrounding his perfect smile, and you feel yourself wanting to open up. But you can’t. You only want to show him your best side. I guess that’s something you have in common with them.

“Oh, it’s great! You guys really spoil us here.”

He nods, happy to hear your positive feedback, not realizing it’s shallow. You want to elaborate. The words are on the tip of your tongue to tell him that yes, they spoil you here and you love it, but a part of you is scared to really fall in love with it, to truly believe you’ve found a place you can call home that has a new family that’s perfect for you already waiting. Who gets that lucky in life? Not you. So you tuck away your fears, and keep it surface level with him.

The rest of your night was lovely; it was easy to tuck away the thoughts that had been so prominent before spending time with Jin. He was someone who tried his best to make sure that everyone was comfortable. You had known this about him since prior to meeting him, watching him on RunBTS and Bon Voyage, he had that caring, nurturing way about him that drew you in, and made everything appear better in the aura he cast out. He made it easy, which you knew would make it that much harder.

That night you lay awake long past the last sounds of your housemate have dissipated and watch as the ceiling fan circles and circles. You always thought that it was safe, that loving BTS was safe. Friends over the internet, they didn’t have to know you completely. You could take days off and come back when you wanted, no one really depending on you. No one actually knows your deepest secrets and thoughts. Those were kept safely tucked away, behind lock and key deep within your heart.

You could have sworn that love for BTS couldn’t hurt you. Hindsight is definitely 20/20, as you lay curled on your side, looking out the window at the reflection of the moon on the ocean, tears streaming down onto your pillow, it hurts.

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine & mrsparkjimin18 2020-2021. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

[heauxplesslydevoted]

As The Dust Settles (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Thomas Mendez x MC (Marissa Day)

Summary: Settling into their first year of marriage, Thomas and Marissa are prepared for everything life throws their way...or so they think.

Tags: @princess-geek @chetachisblog @dorishi-desu@hatescapsicum@annekebbphotography @drakewalkerfantasy@seriouslyices @zambazeus @loilko @blackcoffee85@randomchoicesblog @fortunatelywaywardsandwich@canknot@lapisreviewsstuff @akacalliope @senseofduties@badchoicesposts @ao719

As always, enjoy! And let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged.

~~

Six months into this married life, and Thomas and Marissa still find it to be extremely blissful. After swearing off of love after the death of his first wife, falling for Marissa Day was a complete surprise, but it’s something that Thomas is grateful for every single day. She’s a breath of fresh air in their stuffy little town, his solace, his source of comfort. And Marissa feels the same way about him. Thomas is the complete opposite of her ex in every way and sometimes, she wants to punch herself just to make sure she’s not dreaming and she didn’t conjure him up in her imagination.

They settled into an easy routine after getting married, thankfully able to avoid the growing pains of blending a family together. It helped that Luz and Ivy were best friends and now being sisters was the best thing on earth to them. Their mornings were filled with bustling energy, everyone getting ready to start the day, their nights ended with everyone gathering together around the dinner table, sharing stories about their day.

It’s a quiet Monday morning in the Day-Mendez household. The sun is just starting to rise, birds are quietly chirping, and everything is peaceful.

Until Thomas is woken up by a horrible wrenching sound. His eyes snap open and he turns to see his wife isn’t in bed next to him. “Riss? Is that you?”

There’s no response, so Thomas pulls back the thick comforter and sleepily crawls out of bed. He walks to the connect en-suite and finds it empty. 

Following the sound of the commotion, Thomas heads out of the master bedroom and walks down the hallway. The light is on in one of the bathrooms.

He finds Luz hunched over the toilet, throwing up while Marissa rubs soothing circles on her back.

Panic settles in his blood as he sees his baby crouched down on the floor, sick. “Lulu baby, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t...feel good,” Luz replies slowly.

“I heard her in here throwing up,” Marissa says. “And she has a fever.”

Thomas sweeps Luz’s hair away from her face and touches her forehead. She’s burning up. “Oh no. You think it could be a stomach virus?”

“I think so.” Marissa grabs a towel from the counter and runs it under some cool water. She places it firmly onto Luz’s head. “She can’t go to school like this, she’ll be miserable.”

“You’re right. I can stay home with her.”

“You have a huge case to prepare for,” Marissa says. “I can stay with her.”

“Are you sure? You’re still pretty new at work, I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

While Thomas and Marissa were engaged, she was able to complete her schooling and get her degree in social work. Right after they got married, she got a job working with the county, as an advocate for people leaving abusive relationships and connecting them to different available resources.

After her tumultuous relationship with Guy, she felt like it would be a good way to give back and help other people. She’s been there for 5 months now, and she loves every minute of it.

“I’ll be fine. I can take a sick day.”

“Okay.”

“I can handle it in here, you just go wake up Ivy and start getting ready,” Marissa softly orders. Thomas walks out of the bathroom, after giving Luz a soft kiss on the head. Once he’s gone, Marissa turns on the shower. “Why don’t you take a shower and change into some cooler pajamas. And once you’re done, I’ll get you some ginger ale.”

“And crackers too,” Luz adds.

“Of course. Ginger ale and crackers coming right up.”

Marissa leaves Luz alone in the bathroom to freshen up, softly closing the door behind her and she pads back to her bedroom. Thomas steps out of their walk-in closet once he hears her return. 

“Hopefully I won’t be in the office too late tonight,” he says, watching his wife plop dramatically onto the bed. “I’m handling a pretty ridiculous civil case right now.”

“Anything interesting?”

“Two greedy sisters fighting over their late father’s assets. They’re so ridiculous, it’s actually amusing.”

“Why can’t they just split everything down the middle?”

“Because that makes too much sense,” Thomas jokes. Marissa’s phone beeps and she blindly reaches the bed until it hits her fingers. “Who’s calling at 6:30?”

“No call, it’s an email,” Marissa answers. She scrolls through the message and chuckles humorlessly. “It’s the school. They wanted to inform us that there is a stomach bug going around and we should be cautious.”

Thomas snorts. “Well, they’re a day late and a dollar short.”

“Got that right.”

“”You think you and Luz will be good for the day?”

“Of course. We’re going to lay in bed, watching soap operas and daytime talk shows.”

“Sounds like you’re getting a vacation day.”

“Please, I wish.”

Thomas walks back over to their bed and braces his arms on either side of Marissa’s head so he’s hovering over her. He leans down and gives her a short kiss. “I don’t think I said good morning to you.”

“You didn’t, but it’s okay, we were pretty distracted.”

“Well, good morning beautiful.”

“Morning.”

He nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling softly. She always smells good, like vanilla. “You know, all four of us could take a sick day. You and I can stay curled up in bed.”

“Are you trying to get out of work?” Marissa teases.

“Just thinking of how nice it would be to spend the day with my girls, and no crazy clients.”

Marissa rolls out from under Thomas and tugs his hand. “You’ve got a job to do, Mister Hot-Shot Attorney. Go to work.”

“Fine,” Thomas relents a pout. Marissa rolls her eyes and gives him another kiss, but before she can pull away, Thomas wraps an arm around her waist. “Give me one more.”

“You’re so demanding sometimes. I like it,” Marissa murmurs against his mouth. She leans into him, kissing him with much more fervor this time around, a hand reaching up to tug his hair.

Thomas grabs hold of her waist, pulling his wife even closer to him. He feels her shiver as he kisses up her jaw. “Don’t start what you can’t finish, Missus Mendez.”

“Can you guys stop eating each other’s faces for five seconds?” Luz asks, causing the adults to spring apart like two teenagers.

“Luz!” Thomas’s cheeks turn bright red. “Honey, we did not see you come in.”

“Come on, I need to get my ginger ale and crackers and I can’t reach the top shelf in the pantry.”

“Sorry sweetheart. I’ll be down there in one minute,” Marissa promises. Luz rolls her eyes, mumbling under her breath and walks away.

“We have to get a lock on that door,” Thomas says with a groan. “I’m tired of getting interrupted.”

“And the kids will still find a way to get in,” Marissa jokes. “Come on, go finished getting dressed. I’ll put on a pot of coffee for you.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know. It’s why you married me.”

~~V~~

Later that afternoon, Marissa and Luz head down to the grocery store. With Luz having an upset stomach, Marissa decided that it would be the perfect opportunity to make her famous chicken noodle soup.

She scans her list as they walk idly down the aisle. “Okay Luz, do we have our chicken?”

“Check.”

“Onion?”

“Check.”

“Celery, carrots and garlic?”

“Check, check, and check!” Luz exclaims.

“Perfect. Now time for my special ingredient. It is absolutely imperative that you keep it a secret.”

“What does imperative mean?” Luz asks.

“Super, super important. Do you think you can keep a secret?”

“I am the best secret keeper.”

“Good.” Marissa scans the produce section until her eyes land on what’s she’s looking for. Running over, she plucks a few ingredients and drops them into a tiny plastic bag.

“The secret is jalapeños?”

Marissa nods. “Yup. That’s why my chicken soup is better than everyone else’s. It adds a little bit of umph.”

“Awesome. I love spicy food.”

“Me too. That’s why you and I go together like peanut butter and jelly.”

“And Oreos and milk.”

“Perfect comparison, kiddo.”

They continue their stroll down the aisles, picking up different food items, happily chatting along the way.

So caught up with their conversation, their shopping cart accidentally bumps into someone else’s. “Oops, I’m sorry–” The apology doesn’t on her tongue once she realizes it was just Vanessa. “Oh. Hello, Vanessa.”

“Marissa, hi.” Vanessa plasters on a fake smile. “You weren’t at the PTA meeting this afternoon.”

“Sorry I wasn’t able to make it. Luz got sick, I’m sure you received the email about the stomach bug going around, right?”

“Yes.” Vanessa’s eyes flicker over to Luz for a brief moment. “Hello, little one.”

“Hi,” Luz mutters, never meeting Vanessa’s gaze. She didn’t like the older woman and made no attempt to hide her disdain. Marissa envied that about her, her lack of poker face. 

Instead of looking at Vanessa, Luz spots a small kiosk on the other side of the aisle. There’s an older lady passing out samples. “Ooh, Marissa, can I try a sample?”

“Are you sure it won’t upset your stomach?”

“It won’t, I swear.”

“Just one,” Marissa insists. Luz happily skips off, Marissa keeping an eye on her until she makes it over to the kiosk. When she turns around, she notices that Vanessa is still standing there, staring at her. “Did you need something?”

“Since I’m here, I might as well give you a synopsis of the meeting. We’re holding a fundraiser the school’s art department later this month. And since you were so...good with the last one, I figured you should run this one as well.”

Marissa barely had time to pull off the last bake sale. But with how busy things get at work, she definitely can’t commit to planning another bake sale. “I can’t. Work has me pretty swamped right now.”

“Surely your night shifts at that dingy little bar don’t keep you that occupied.”

Marissa’s eyes narrow at the dig. Vanessa knows perfectly well that she doesn’t work at the bar anymore. “I haven’t worked at Drafthorse since I graduated last year. You know that.”

Vanessa feigns ignorance. “Silly me, I must’ve forgotten.”

“You’re too young to be losing your memory, V. You might want to get that checked out.”

“Funny.”

“I can’t plan the bake sale, but you can put me down for rugelach again. And I can give a donation from the Mendez household.”

“Oh how nice, Thomas lets you use bank account.”

It’s no secret that the members of the PTA resent Marissa, for a multitude of reasons. But her marrying Thomas was icing on the cake. Not only did she snag one of Goldcliffe’s most eligible bachelors, he was rich to boot. And while Marissa isn’t one to flaunt her husband’s wealth, she’ll absolutely rub it in Vanessa’s face.

She just smiles politely. “My name’s on the account. What’s his is mine. That’s how this marriage thing works, not that you’d know.”

Vanessa’s eye twitches at the insult, but she recovers quickly, her icy facade slipping back into place.

Before she can respond, Luz rushes back over, a tiny cup in her hand. “Marissa, I got you a sample! It’s ravioli and it’s really good.”

Luz shoves the cup in Marissa’s face and the smell invades her senses. She recoils instantly and her stomach churns uncomfortably. She covers her mouth takes a step back. “Luz, get that away from me please.”

“What’s wrong?”

“That smell is–”

She can’t even finish the rest of her sentence before she turns her head and empties the contents of her stomach...right onto Vanessa’s shoes.

“My Louboutins!” Vanessa shrieks. “You’re going to pay for my these, you cow!”

Marissa groans and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, barely registering what Vanessa is going on about. She turns and glares at Luz, who’s staring back sheepishly.

“I think I got you sick.”

“Yeah, I think so too.”

~~V~~

It’s a few days later, and thankfully Luz recovers from her stomach bug and is able to return to school. Marissa is not so lucky, the virus taking her down swiftly and without mercy.

Her third day off from work, and Alma is over, keeping her company as Thomas is at work and the girls are at school. They’re sitting in the living room, curled up on the couch, watching trashy court tv. 

“Wait, wait, tell me the story again,” Alma says in between laughs. “You threw up on her shoes?”

“All over them.”

Alma’s laugh only grows louder. “Man, do you know how much money I would’ve paid to see that happen? Top dollar, Marissa. Top. Dollar.”

“Well, I have to buy her $800 shoes now, so I hope you enjoy the story,” Marissa grumbles.

Alma wipes a stray tear from her eye, a side effect of laughing too hard. “Trust me, the laughter and complete joy this story has given me is priceless. Easily worth the pair of Loubs. You are my queen for doing that do her.”

“It was a complete accident, Alma.”

“Sure it was. You don’t have to lie to me, Riss.”

“I swear, I didn’t do it on purpose. I got so sick all of a sudden and I couldn’t move fast enough.”

“What the hell type of superbug do you have?”

“Who knows. Elementary schools are a breeding ground for germs.”

“Maybe I should go home,” Alma suggests. “I do not want to get sick.”

“No! I will go crazy in this house all by myself.”

“Fine, I’ll stay. But only because you’re my best friend and I love you.”

“Thank you. You have carte blanche to the television and the fridge.”

“You really know the way to my heart. I’m going to get a snack.” Alma slides off of the couch and into her seat. “Do you want anything?”

“Saltines, please. And a cup of ice.”

“Coming right up.”

A few minutes later, Alma heads back to the living room, a bowl of popcorn, a pack of crackers, and a large cup of ice. 

Marissa sits up and eagerly rips open the pack. She stuffs a few into her mouth and she instantly regrets it. Jumping up from the couch, she runs to the downstairs bathroom and thankfully makes it to the toilet before she throws up on the floor. Her throat burns and her stomach clenches tightly from the exertion.

It feels like forever before she’s finally done vomiting–she’s sure it’s just bile at this point considering her stomach is empty–and it takes all of her remaining energy to wipe her mouth clean.

She knows there’s no way she can walk back to the living room, so Marissa curls into a ball on the bathroom floor. The room is spinning, her entire body is trembling, and she’s pretty sure she’ll have to spend the rest of her life on the floor because getting up is not an option.

“Are you alive?”

Marissa instantly recognizes it as Alma’s voice. “Barely.”

“Do you think you should go to the hospital? Because no offense, you look horrible.”

“No, no. I’ll be fine eventually. I just need to lay on this cold floor for a few more minutes and collect my bearings.”

“Are stomach bugs usually this horrible? Should you be throwing up this much?”

“I don’t know.”

“What if you’re pregnant?” Alma muses.

Marissa scoffs at the suggestion. “Alma, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not pregnant.”

“What, are you celibate?”

“I’m a newlywed, of course not.”

“Then it’s a possibility.”

“I can’t be pregnant because I just got my…” Marissa’s words falter. Holy shit. When was the last time she got her period? Wasn’t it supposed to be this week? Or was it last week?

“Oh my god.”

[totaleebookedout]

The Wall of Winnipeg and Me

Book Review (spoilers)

3.8/5 ⭐️

I know 3.8 doesn’t seem like I liked the book but I really did! I loved each character, even the side characters were lovable. Honestly, this book raised my standards even higher than they already were. Where can I find myself an Aiden Graves???? a girl is searching. He is broody, reasonable, an adorable giant defensive football player who is also plant-based! at first I didn’t think I would like him because of the whole broodiness and mysterious vibe, but just like the fl Vanessa, I came to truly love him. I respect that he totally keeps to himself and is private about his life. At times it was difficult, as a reader, to grasp at what he thinking. But overtimes as he grew we were able to see that growth much more profoundly because he was an absolute wall in the beginning. Vanessa is a great fl. I do feel like she didn’t grow as much as Aiden, however, I love how real she was. When she felt nervous, I felt it. Finding courage is never easy and when she decided to quit her stable job to pursue her own dreams I couldn’t help but root for a friend. The fact that she found the will to run a freaking marathon astounds me! She has a strong mentality and I found inspiration in that. Her biological family is literally the worst, but without all that turmoil she wouldn’t be the awesome fl we know. Vanessa and Aiden as a couple is equivalent to a warm hug. They don’t talk much, but they love being in each other’s company and the amount of acts of service (love language) in this book– I was squealing. The secondary characters, Diana and Zac were welcoming. They are the friends you wished you had.

The writing style wasn’t my cup of tea. This was probably the biggest reason why I gave it a 3.8 rather than a full 4 stars. It was full of fluff that I didn’t care for tbh. There were times I questioned why I needed to know exactly what was in Aiden’s closet? Or what Vanessa was wearing down to her socks. It was just little details like that I didn’t care for. After reaching halfway I just got used to seeing those extra, unnecessary details. But I’d rather not get used it and leave the fluff out completely. Another reason why I couldn’t give it a full 4 stars is the fact that the author completely skimmed over abuse. Aiden, Vanessa, and Diana have experienced abuse and were discussed in the book. However, it was completely glossed over. I understand that realistically there is no immediate solution, but I would have like to go into greater detail on how they could find help or solace. I’m not sure if Diana has her own novel, but I was worried about her when nothing was mentioned after her move back to her parents home.

Ok now for the good parts. I absolutely adored the slow burn. It is a strangers to friends to lovers, marriage of convenience (fake marriage), “I hate everyone but you” tropes. I appreciate the fact that the main characters found a way to communicate. Vanessa had this constant inner monologue about how she was afraid of speaking her mind and kept it in. But after some time she said “fuck it” and just said whatever she needed to say. I think because of this, Aiden felt comfortable enough to slowly open up to her. It was so cute! Lemme just say, if a storm is raging outside and the lights shut off, I wouldn’t run to a room and cuddle with them hahaha but Aiden would. That dude really went to Vanessa’s room to check if she was ok and then they cuddled. Oh! and this was when they were still in the beginning phases of their friendship. When I tell you I was squealing… or when they spent Christmas together and watched Dragonball Z??? goddamn it I nearly lost it. Don’t mind me, just adding watching anime with a hot football player to my list ㅠㅠ This might be a controversial take, but I don’t mind how there was only one sex scene. I could probably even do without it completely. Their budding romance was so rewarding I felt content the way they were already. That one sex scene was like the cherry on top, didn’t really need it but made it better, ja feel? Another scene that had me on my knees was when Aiden flew to see Vanessa at her book convention. She was a nervous wreck and lost some confidence in her work. But when he surprised her by showing up I was nearly in tears. She was comforted by his presence and found some of her confidence again. Another time when she finished her marathon and Aiden surprised her, again, by being at the finish line. Wow. I had to put the book down and gather my thoughts. My expectations for romance sky rocketed after that. Aiden saying, “that’s my girl” and “Graves don’t quit!” ahhhhhh I wanted to jump into that book and witness it with my own eyes. And the handful of times Aiden and Vanessa said “we’re a team” I clenched my weak heart. And one more scene that stuck out to me was when Aiden was leaving for Colorado to train off-season. Vanessa and Aiden knew they loved each other but none of them verbally admitted it yet. Aiden kissed her goodbye and bear hugged her. Vanessa’s inner monologue saying how she’ll really miss him, ugh that hurt. This little intimate moment was heart-warming. The scene was so short (literally one paragraph) but I felt the love they had for each other here the most.

Oh god, there were so many moments and scenes I wanna discuss but I feel like I would write days and days about it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find myself an Aiden Graves if that’s even possible ㅠㅠㅠ

[theseadagiodays]

May 19, 2020

The Art of Upcycling 

In 1995, as the culmination of my doctoral work, I’d planned a fairly complex graduate recital of duets with artists from four different mediums (dance, poetry, film, & painting).  But, when nearly all of my collaborators fell through, just 6 weeks before the performance, my mentor told me a Duke Ellington story that has informed my resiliency ever since.  Apparently, Duke was coaching an emerging conductor as he led a big band with limited instrumentalists.  When his mentee asked, “How am I supposed to conduct this song with only one sax, two trumpets, a bass, no drums and no trombones?” Duke replied, “You gotta work with what you got!”.  Whether we like it or not, Covid has asked many of us to “make do” with less than the usual resources available to us.  Botched DIY haircuts and suffocating, Mcguyvered facemasks have been a few low points in our upcycling attempts.  

But there have been many more examples of highly inventive, and even elegant solutions that have emerged.   In fact, the expansiveness of the creativity that is currently happening is in direct inverse proportion to the limiting constraints of our present circumstances.

The industry that has perhaps most inventively and profitably capitalized on the current DIY trend is the upcycled fashion world.  Businesses like Depop, which sell primarily upcycled or reconstructed clothes online, have seen a 65% increase in sales since March. Some highlights from their site include Manchester artist, Sam Nowell’s trench coats made from discarded bar towels (pictured above): https://www.instagram.com/samnowellstudios/; and New Mexico seamstress, Jeremy Salazar’s handpainted ski overalls (below): https://www.depop.com/happyxloco/.

My friend Katya’s very stylish daughters, Vanessa and Natalia, have got in on the action, too, with their repurposed bedsheet Met Gala ballgowns.

I’ve always been a huge fan of repurposed art projects like these. And, as a lifelong environmentalist and musician, I’ve found ways to intersect my passions in some of our own upcycling projects.  Below, is an interactive music wall that Instruments of Change built out of trash in 2017.

Street Beats, a pop-up installation on the Arbutus Greenway, funded by VIVA Vancouver 

I must confess that this project would not have been possible without the impressive skills of composer/construction expert, Paul Snider, since all the handy genes in my family went to my brother instead of me.

My industrious brother, Gregg, and the identical dog yurt that he built for his pet Cauli, during quarantine, to match his Catskills home which he also renovated entirely on his own

However, my lack of fix-it skills does not stop me from being constantly inspired by websites like this (https://www.nixxitjunk.com/post/25-ideas-to-revive-your-junk-and-keep-you-inspired-during-quarantine), because it allows even those of us who don’t know the difference between a nut and a bolt to manage their basic instructions.  So, if you’re wondering what to do with that build-up of wine corks, coke bottles, or unread books you’ve accumulated while stuck at home, this article has tons of upcycled ideas to sort through.

May 20, 2020

Homegrown Goodness

Textiles and furniture have not been the only mediums repurposed during Covid.  This period has also seen a huge resurgence in urban gardening, using many upcycled approaches.  Maybe this is because the current rules, restricting human touch, have us all hungry to work with our hands. Not to mention the fact that gardening provides a more autonomous alternative to feeding ourselves, while we all try to limit our trips to the grocery store.  Consequently, apartment dwellers with little more than an asphalt parking spot for land, have found ways to plant flowers, grow vegetables and keep bees.  

This follows a pattern that emerged during former social crises, seen in the Victory Gardens that cropped up all over North America, after both World Wars.  

So, if you’re eager to farm in your own backyard, here’s another great site with “harvest at home” tips ranging from DIY bee hotels (above) to upcycled jean planters (below).

https://seedpillproject.wordpress.com

May 21, 2020

Private Serenades

“When all you want is pancakes but you just get eggs.”   That was the first line of a song I collaboratively wrote with one of our Lullaby Project participants a few years ago.  In the lyrics of the chorus, the self-comforting strategy for life’s disappointing moments, which this mom shared with her children, has really helped me in the past few months.  “Let it out, move right on, let it go.”  

So, in an effort to relinquish any less-than feelings I’ve experienced during our “distanced” reality, the first step has been to voice them.  And for me, what needs to be cleared right now is my complicated relationship with the new member of our household.  His name starts with a letter near the end of the alphabet.  And while Geoff, as someone with a fairly common name, has always secretly wished for a pseudonym that could start with X, it’s not Xenon, his alter ego, that I’m referring to.  It’s Zoom.  I imagine most of you know him well by now, too.

Of course, I appreciate the facile way in which he has allowed me to connect with people near and far.  I have been continually surprised about the ways in which he has facilitated creative collaboration, beyond my wildest expectations.  I��ve been tickled by the novelty of the intercontinental cocktail hours and birthday parties he’s invited me to.  And I’ve taken full advantage of his livestream capacity to bring world-class performers right into my living room.  But, I must confess, I am an analog girl.  Pre-Covid, I probably attended 2 live art events a week.  My TV-viewing time amounted to little more than 30 minutes per day.  I’ve never used an e-reader and purchase a few paperbacks a month, because something about the printed page in my hand truly does bring the words more to life for me.  And I held out until a few years ago to get a cell phone, because a face-to-face coffee with a friend always appealed far more than a text.   So, some of these Zoom experiences have left me sadly cold.  It’s hard to admit this, because I’ve earnestly tried to mine the internet for artful experiences that could soothe myself and others during this time.  And it is certainly true that I have been moved, at times, by many generous offerings of music or dance or theatre - even once brought to tears. But, at least for me, the intangible quality that flesh and bones performance brings has just been undeniably absent.  This many not be the case for people who were already far more accustomed to digital forms of entertainment.  But, if I’m to be completely honest, rarely have I felt the hair stand up on my arms or goosebumps shiver up my spine the way live performance so often elicits.   And denial has never worked for me.  So, I guess now that I’ve “let it out”, I can “move right on”.  To a place of dreaming about what else might be possible within our current constraints.  And luckily, in full Duke Ellington style, many artists are already “working with what they’ve got” by responding to this quandary in very imaginative ways.

Flutist, Stephanie Winker playing for Annika Fink at the Stuttgart Airport

Fusing two professional domains that have been highly impacted by Covid, some clever Stuttgart musicians have been “upcycling” the Covid concert experience by offering live performances at airport gates, in the most intimate way imaginable.  Solo artists have been giving private classical concerts to lucky Facebook raffle winners, as documented in this article, below.   https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/13/arts/music/stuttgart-airport-coronavirus-concert.html?fbclid=IwAR0yU8hDeHQXTY4JBCA96cU24CC3N2qyIPWdkmR6JdDQ4YY8BvkvCso_OtQ

For me, the universal striving that this sublime Bach Sonata expresses usually conjures quiet stirrings in my belly.  So, while I listen in this compromised digital format, to a tinnier version of what I know is this beautiful player’s fully-bodied tone resonating through the cavernous chamber of the airport, I can at least try to live vicariously through her audience-of-one who I imagine must be completely titillated by such a deeply personal and embodied experience of the music.   I can also take solace from the fact that safe alternatives like these, and others, will slowly begin to emerge as we hopefully enter the next phase of increased, though still socially-distant connections to art and to one another.

May 22, 2020

No Words

I have always loved to laugh.  But humor has recently become a palpable need.  Particulary at the end of the day or the week.  Latenight heroes like Colbert and Trevor Noah have become essential elixirs for me.  And even as a voracious reader, I’ve increasingly foregone my nightly reading habit, for an extra dose of their wit.  

We all need to be gentler with ourselves right now.  And we all need to feed ourselves what we can.  So, I just have to share this video, because everyone I know who has seen it finds it the next best medicine to a Covid vaccine.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1f7OwFqTnco

[tinespiritu]

20 years. That's how long I've admired you and considered you as my hero. Your burning passion to win and your relentless desire to do and be great were what set you apart from the others. Although you don't know me, your influence in my life is unimaginable and is actually surpassed only by my family and loved ones. Even my taste in men has been influenced by you. I immediately stop talking to guys who either talk trash about you or do not acknowledge that you are the 🐐 (yes I'm that petty). And once, I agreed to going out with a guy when he said that when he throws away a piece of trash, he spins around and shouts Kobeeeeeee. Looking back, this all makes sense because growing up, you were actually the first guy who I wanted to marry (too bad you got married but GG to the your loving wife Vanessa). You went through your fair share of controversies but what I admired about you the most wasn't any of your unbelievable basketball feats but your tremendous love for your wife and daughters. It made me so happy whenever I see photos and videos of you with your family. Being the only guy in the family, you were cheekily bullied into donning girly Snapchat filters and staying in at Disney hotel princess suites. But I'm pretty sure you happily and lovingly did all of those for your girls. Speaking of your daughters, I really lost it when I found out that Gigi had left us too. I had been so excited to see her play and follow her career in the WNBA. I'm 100% sure that she will be 🐐 too. I could easily tell by every pump fake and fadeaway shot that she made. I saw you in her and I'm sure that the world did too. The world lost a lot today. 😭 Thank you for gracing us with your greatness, with the drive to pursue whatever it is that keeps us alive, with the Mamba mentality. ❤️ May you and Gigi find eternal rest in God's loving arms and may Vanessa, Natalia, Bianka, and Koko find solace and peace in God and with loved ones in this time of mourning. 💔 You will be greatly missed. --- Thanks to everyone who reached out to check how I was doing, your words of comfort mean so much to me. ❤️ --- Photo above is my favorite Kobe pic of all time coz he was looking at me :) https://www.instagram.com/p/B70oeSzHdELtZPaPMKBRlP2_HJQZu8vWU-H4Oc0/?igshid=ai4r2ee33n0c

[news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog]

The mighty power of the simple Post-It Note protest

In the emotional days following the November 2016 election that put President Donald Trump in power, no one had any idea they might find a shred of solace in words scribbled on a mundane office supply. But underground, in the depths of a New York City subway station, a powerfully expressive initiative fueled by thousands of Post-it Notes was underway. 

In the weeks that followed, thousands of people in search of catharsis paused their commutes to write down rejuvenating messages of hope, solidarity, and reassurance and stick them to the walls for all to read. Soon a colorful mosaic of an estimated 50,000 Post-its, now known as the Subway Therapy project, spanned the walls of Manhattan's Union Square station.

It was a simple act during an especially dark time, but the colorful collection of Post-its helped the country's outlook seem a little bit brighter. 

SEE ALSO: NYC's 'Subway Therapy' wall is transformed into a brilliant interactive holiday card

For nearly 40 years, Post-its have been a go-to resource for annotating documents, writing to-do lists, and leaving reminders. But somewhere along the line people around the world realized just how multi-functional the sticky squares could be. 

Image: Vanessa Carvalho/Brazil Photo Press/LatinContent/Getty Images

In pop culture, Post-its have been used for infamous break ups and vow writing, and in the real world, people use them to pull pranks, make grand romantic gestures, create art, and even mourn lost icons like Apple's Steve Jobs. In the past few years, sticky notes have also been used to aid in something far more impactful: peaceful protest. 

The power of post-election Post-its 

I first spotted the Subway Therapy Wall on Thursday, Nov. 10, my first day back in the Union Square station since the Nov. 8 election.

Happening upon the words of complete strangers — simple messages like, "Your emotions are valid," and "We need each other," — was a reminder that goodness still existed. And after talking to others who contributed to or encountered the wall, it's clear I wasn't alone.

View this post on Instagram

Don't forget that there are some truly remarkable people in this world.

A post shared by Nicole Gallucci (@nicoleworldd) on Nov 14, 2016 at 3:26pm PST

"I was in a state of shock," said 23-year-old Chelsea from Yakima, Washington (who preferred not to share her last name,) recalling how she felt in the days after the election. "It felt as if the floor had been pulled from underneath me — like I was going through the five stages of grief simultaneously."

In an attempt to do something productive with her negative feelings, Chelsea traveled New York City for the first time.

"I actually stumbled upon the wall without even knowing it existed," she said. "That moment when I looked up from what I was doing and I saw that wall filled with those colorful bits of paper was indescribable. It was as if I could see the strings connecting everybody in their need for change. It was a therapy session that was free and I could write anything I wanted and not have to worry about feeling alone."

The 14th street subway has a thing called subway therapy and u express yourself on a post it note and put it on the wall. It was incredible. pic.twitter.com/3k3NRpTdDq

— chelsea lately (@chelsea_rane) December 5, 2016

Chelsea read as many notes as she could, absorbed the messages, and says she finally felt like things might be alright. "Those pieces of paper were tiny messages to us as humans that we can be change. If we try hard enough."

"It was a coming together of strangers across the country who wanted to make a simple statement that this is wrong and not normal, and we don't need to accept it," Sarah Flourance, a 31-year-old from Alexandria, Virginia said.

Flourance, who traveled to New York to visit a friend after the election in hopes that it would lift her mood, said she spoke with a few strangers at the wall, some of whom were in tears. "Right after the election, the isolation is what got to me and a lot of other people," she said. She felt the display helped ease her feelings of hopelessness.

Added my post-it to the 14th St/Union Sq subway station wall today #fdt #MotivationalMonday pic.twitter.com/zRzQ2j0qah

— 𝔖𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔥, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔶 🌒🌕🌘 (@BookishFeminist) November 15, 2016

Kevin Nadal, psychologist and professor at John Jay College of Criminal Justice and the Graduate Center at City University of New York says he also contributed a Post-it to the wall.

He wrote a message of solidarity to "the most marginalized populations whose rights would be threatened" by Trump's rise to the presidency, and said the expansive unity of strangers helped restore hope for him.

"I wanted people to know they weren't alone," Nadal said. "I definitely felt scared, betrayed, and angry. The Post-it wall was validating." 

And while he knew others in New York City would share his post-election sentiments, Nadal said seeing seeing all those emotions "manifested in one place was viscerally powerful."

If you want to feel some hope, visit the Post-It Wall at Union Square Subway Station. Here are my favorites. #LoveTrumpsHate pic.twitter.com/GgiM3hZMFX

— Kevin Nadal, Ph.D. (@kevinnadal) November 21, 2016

So why Post-its?

In early 2016, well before the November election, "Subway Therapy" creator Matthew "Levee" Chavez set up a table, two chairs, and a sign that read "Secret Keeper" in a New York City subway station.

His setup included a blank book in the hope that passerby might decide to unload some internal stress by writing their secrets down on paper. Despite this, he often found that people preferred face-to-face conversations.

"For the next eight months or so, I had individual conversations with people that would stop by to sit and talk...About whatever they wanted to talk about." 

After the election, he said things changed.

Matthew Chavez near his public art project: "Subway Therapy."

Image: Volkan Furuncu/Anadolu Agency/Getty Images

Chavez says he believes that "during crisis, writing can be a more effective and accessible form of expression than conversation." It's what inspired him to bring sticky notes and writing materials into the subway that November. The Post-its helped him reach a wider audience, since several people could write their thoughts down simultaneously, rather than waiting to chat with him one-on-one.

"The wall took a form that was fun, beautiful, and expressive," Chavez recalled. "In mass, sticky notes are incredibly inviting and they definitely helped people to open up."

A history of Post-it protests

Though it's been nearly two years since Chavez's Subway Therapy project, many of the notes have since been archived online and in several books, and memories of the wall remain for those who contributed or passed by. Though Chavez helped create one of the most memorable Post-it Note protests in recent history, his was far from the first.

In 2011, Wisconsin residents used the tactic when they protested policies by Republican Gov. Scott Walker that would weaken in-state unions. In addition to months of marches and other organizing efforts, protesters left hundreds of Post-it Notes at the Wisconsin State Capitol entrance in an attempt to share their concerns. Despite the protests, Walker's proposal ended up passing.

Post-it Notes on state capitol in protest of Wisconsin Governor Scott Walker's budget repair bill.

Image: Allen Fredrickson/Icon SMI/Corbis via Getty Images

Later that year, Post-its made their way to London to serve as a beacon of light in the wake of a divisive act of violence. In August 2011, riots broke out across London in protest of a deadly police shooting that killed local resident Mark Duggan. In Peckham, London, thousands of community members responded to the tragedy with a "Love Wall" covered in notes with messages of hope and unity. The sentiment was so powerful that it spread to walls in Manchester and in other areas of London.

A wall covered in Post-it Notes supporting Hong Kong's pro-democracy movement.

Image: Thomas Campean/Anadolu Agency/Getty Images

The people of Hong Kong also used Post-it Notes to show support for the pro-democracy movement of 2014, when many called for the resignation of leader Chief Executive Leung Chun-ying. During what's since come to be known as the "Umbrella Revolution," activists and protesters wrote words of encouragement and their reasons for demonstrating on Post-its, creating a colorful display outside government offices. People in Sydney even covered the walls of Australia's Hong Kong House in solidarity.

The benefits of sticky note self-expression

While expressing oneself via Post-it Note has shown to be a therapeutic and unifying response to large-scale events, these notes can also provide comfort to individuals on a day-to-day basis.

"Self-affirmations are really helpful in helping to negate any harmful self-doubts or cognitive distortions," Nadal said, explaining that writing positive, reassuring messages on Post-it Notes "can help in increasing one's self esteem and decreasing any cognitive distortions."

A 2007 study by Gail Matthews, a psychology professor at California's Dominican University, found that the act of writing one's goals down seems to make a person significantly more likely to accomplish those goals. The study also found that writing reminders or to-do lists before bedtime may help people fall asleep faster. 

Image: screengrab/subway therapy

It's clear the humbler Post-it has made the transition from bland office supply to powerful statement maker. Remi Kent, the global Post-it business director for 3M, said that the product's move beyond the confines of the workplace has only encouraged the brand more.

"Everyone who uses a Post-it Note puts their own unique touch on it — and it's exciting to see how consumers make it their own," she wrote in an email. "We believe in getting your thoughts out and your voice heard — and our products are the tool to help people do that."

Post-it Notes may be small, but they have the power to make mighty statements.

WATCH: This artist uses Post-it notes a canvas for art