#honestly my goal is to date a musician at least once in my life

[rosicheeks]

🥵

[bopbopstyles]

10. Emerson

SERIES RATING: M (sex)

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 9.8k

MASTERLIST | INSPO TAG 

Y/N promised herself she would never date a musician. It was her one rule–her only rule, actually–when it came to dating. But then, Harry Styles rolled into her life and asked her to break it, just this once. And this is what happened.

a/n: this is the last chapter of The Only Exception, and honestly, i never thought it would come. s/o to @bfharry​ and @havethetimeofyourstyles​ for helping me with dad!harry concepts! thank you to everyone who reblogged and loved my two little angels - i love them so much and hope you enjoyed their journey as much as i did! concepts for them are always open - i’m definitely not ready to let go of dad!harry. slide into my DMs and share your thoughts!

pls reblog to spread the word about only exception! 🥰

The final weeks before Emerson arrived were a flurry of activity. Y/N went on maternity leave, much to her dismay and Harry’s joy because he got to spend all day with her, every day. They finished the nursery off, finished their respective parenting books and compared notes, and did buckets of research on what to expect at the hospital. Harry, being Harry, ended up worming his way into helping Hanna and Jamie plan the baby shower, saying that if it was going to be at their house he deserved to have at least some part in planning it.

If he was being honest, he mainly did it to distract himself from the anxiety that seemed to plague him every time he woke up in the morning and rolled over and saw Y/N’s extremely pregnant belly. It wasn’t necessarily the anxiety about being a dad, that he could figure out, it was the anxiety about her giving birth. He had stayed up one night stalking a Reddit page that started out as advice for soon-to-be-dads, but ended up devolving into horror stories of things gone wrong. There were even a couple where the woman had died, which had Harry immediately shutting his computer, trying to get the thought of Y/N dying in childbirth out of his mind.

But he couldn’t. He rolled over every possible outcome of the birth, even the extreme ones of losing either her or their little Peanut, who he hadn’t quite adjusted to thinking about as Emerson yet. Anne hadn’t been much help at calming his nerves, even though he knew she was saying all the right things. The problem was that he wasn’t being rational, that he was letting his mind run rampant, and the only way to solve that, Harry knew, was to focus it on something. A goal.

Which led him to the baby shower. He had basically forced Hanna and Jamie to let him help, which he was a bit ashamed of, but the planning actually helped. Thinking through decorations and guest lists and party games and food and playlists, it quieted his mind enough to let his anxiety subside for most of the day. Now they only took over when Y/N fell asleep and he laid awake, watching her sleep and staring at her belly in awe.

Those moments of anxiety and awe were, coincidentally, the same moments in which he ended up thinking about proposing to her.

He loved Y/N more than any other woman he had ever known, he knew that much for sure. She challenged him in ways he loved, made him work to keep her around, and cared for him in a way he had never experienced before. Somehow she knew what he needed before he ever asked—the touches, words, reminders that put his mind and body at ease. Loving her was so fucking easy that it scared him a bit.

And then there was their little Peanut, Emerson, who was already the love of his life. The time he spent singing to her belly, talking to him with his body nestled between her legs, pressing kisses to where he kicked her, it made his heart practically burst. Harry had always wanted to be a father, and even though this wasn’t how he had planned it, it made no difference to him. It was still the best thing that had ever happened to him. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

He wanted them to be a family, a proper family in a traditional sort of way. And he knew that marriage didn’t make a family, that it was love and time and effort that created one, but that didn’t mean he wanted to marry her any less. He wanted her to have his name, the same last name Emerson would have. He wanted to watch her walk down the aisle in a beautiful white gown in the church in Holmes Chapel he’d spent years in. He wanted their child to throw rose petals ahead of her. He wanted to say his weddings vows to her, to slide a ring on her finger, to kiss her when it was all said and done. He wanted to spend the rest of his life loving her.

He didn’t necessarily know when he decided he wanted to propose to her, which night exactly, or what moment he knew in his heart that if he didn’t he would regret it for the rest of his life. He’d been thinking about it off and on since she told him she was pregnant and it got stronger when she moved into his house and made it her permanent address. When she came on tour and he saw how easily she fell into his world every single day. When she had a group text chat with Anne and Gemma where they bullied him and talked about the baby and politics all in the same conversation. When he got home and he felt like he could finally breathe again, because he was with her.

He was fully set on the idea a week into being home, and that was when he went rummaging through his attic for the box of things Anne had given him of his grandmother’s. Specifically, he was looking for a ring—one that had been her wedding ring, and she had given him as something to remember her by, or use for his own marriage. When he found it, he knew it was perfect for her—simple silver with vines etched into the band, and one clear diamond. Y/N was an understated person, never too flashy, and even though Harry could afford an expensive ring, he knew it wouldn’t mean nearly as much to her as this one would.

When it came to the question of when he would propose, he decided to wait. She was too stressed as it was, with Emerson on the way, and it wasn’t like she was going anywhere. He would wait until things had settled down, until he had the ability to do something special for her. He didn’t want to rush it in any way, shape, or form. So instead, he kept the ring tucked into the back of his sock drawer, ready for when the moment arrived.

Until that time, though, he would have to satisfy himself with the simple moments of loving her. And when they were all sat in their backyard, streamers and lanterns decorating the space, their closest friends and family sitting around them at tables and chairs, that was one of those moments. She was talking Anne and Gemma, who had flown in for the birth—which was only a handful of days away—a grin on her face so wide he wondered if her cheeks hurt. Her hair tumbled down her back in waves, her eyes glowed with joy, and the soft pink lipstick she had selected made him want to kiss every inch of her face. She was in a white summer midi dress and a pair of comfortable sandals, and he didn’t know if she had ever looked more beautiful.

“Harry!” His name pulled him out of his trance. She was beckoning him over, and he stood from his chair where he had been vaguely talking to Jeff and some of his other friends, and moved towards her immediately.

“Hey love,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, his chest pressed to her back, and rest his chin on her head.

Her hand moved to cup his forearm, a simple touch that made him smile. “Anne and Gem were just wondering if there was going to be cake.”

“For the record,” Gemma said, “we did not specifically ask about cake. We asked generally about the likelihood of there being dessert.”

Harry laughed at his sister and simplicity of the request. “Yeah, there’s cake. Got. Your favorite kind,” he said squeezing Y/N’s shoulder.

She tipped her head up and looked at him, eager eyes finding his. “Really?”

“Mhm,” he murmured. “Cookies and cream ice cream cake is in the freezer.”

She yelped in excitement, pressing a kiss to his lips chastely. “Love you.”

“Just for the cake?”

She shrugged. “And other stuff.” Anne and Gemma started laughing, the sound intermingling with the chirp of the birds and soft sounds of the playlist he had spent hours creating. They had played baby shower games led by Hanna, which had left them all in hysterics, some people had gone for a swim, and they’d had a cookout. It was simple, easy, and exactly what Y/N had requested. There was pile of gifts inside that she declined to open in front of the group, since neither she nor Harry were the kind of people who liked to show off their gifts at parties. One of the many things they shared.

Now, the party was winding down, the sun was setting, and he knew people would begin preparing to head out. It was probably time for cake. “Ready for it?” He asked Y/N.

“Yes!” She followed him inside, where the air conditioning was a welcome relief from the warm summer day. Her hand slipped into his and thumbed along the inside of his wrist, a smile drifting onto his face from the small action.

“Do you like the party?” He asked when they reached the kitchen.

She leaned against the counter and watched him make his way over the fridge. “Yeah. I don’t know why I was so against the idea at first—it’s been nice having everyone here. And to celebrate little Peanut.” She hadn’t adjusted to the name yet either, so they had stuck to calling their unborn child Peanut, leaving the name for when they arrived in the world.

“Me too.” He pulled open their freezer and found the cake easily—he’d gotten it done at their favorite gelato shop and it had cost an absurd amount for a cake, but he didn’t mind. The reaction on her face when he lifted the top and she saw the cake was worth double the price. “Like it?”

Her arms came to wrap around his waist, tugging him into her. “You know, sometimes you just blow me away a bit.”

He mirrored her position, arms twined around her waist. Her head was tucked into the crook of his neck, and he leaned his head against hers, savoring the simplicity and calmness of the moment. He’d started doing it lately, knowing they would be few and far between. “So do you.”

Footsteps sounded on the wood floors of their house, and he turned his head to see Trisha, her mother, in the living room. “Sorry,” she said with an embarrassed smile. “Came in for another drink.”

Y/N pulled away, much to his dismay, and when to the fridge for another sparkling water for her mother. “Can you take the plates out too, Mom? We’re doing cake.” She handed her mother a stack of plates and flatware, bustling around the kitchen to find the rest of the napkins from earlier.

“Is that ice cream cake?” Trisha asked, sliding the stack into her arms. “You know her well, Harry.”

That he did. Was quite proud of it, too. The three of them made their way out to the rest of the party, Harry holding the cake and the napkins clasped in Y/N’s hand. Everyone turned at the sound of the sliding door and excitedly joined the couple around the cake, a jabber of conversation about how gorgeous the cake was and how delicious it looked. Anne asked if it was going to melt and Harry chuckled in response, before cutting into the cake. Y/N got the first slice, and Harry watched as the ice cream melted on her lips ever so slightly, a sticky mess coating her skin a bit. He restrained the desire to lick at her skin knowing she would hate him doing that in front of everyone. Instead, he stood next to her with his own piece of cake, an arm around her waist and her head nestled against his shoulder as their friends and families chatted.

“How are long are you staying?” Hanna asked Anne and Gemma, taking a bite of the cake.

“A few weeks,” Anne replied. “I might stay longer, but Gem has work to get back to.”

“If you need someplace to stay, I’ve got spare rooms,” Peter piped up.

Anne gave Peter a thankful smile. “We might take you up on that. Hotels can get a bit tiresome.”

“Mum, you can alway stay with us,” Harry told her for the millionth time. Anne had insisted upon her and Gemma staying in a hotel until the baby was born, wanting to give Y/N and him as much solo time as possible before Emerson arrived. Harry and Y/N had both fought her on it, telling her she was welcome, but she was sure on the decision. Trisha had ended up deciding to stay in the same hotel, echoing Anne’s desire to let them have their space before the birth, so the two had gotten a bit closer. Trish had even become Anne and Gemma’s personal chauffeur, since they didn’t have a car.

Anne waved at the thought. “No, I want you two to have your space. We’ll be here after the birth, but until then, savor these last moments together.”

Y/N pinched at Harry’s hip and he yelped, giving her a glare. She was giggling into his arm though, a playful smile on her face, so she let it slide. “As much as I’d love to have family around, I can’t say I’m mad.”

Everyone laughed at that, and Harry rubbed a circle on her skin, enjoying her relaxed nature, the anxiety that had been plaguing her recently disappearing. It wasn’t just him who had been stressed lately about the quickly approaching birth—Y/N had been having vivid stress dreams that usually ended up waking him up, her body sweating next to him.

Harry wasn’t mad that his family wasn’t staying with them either, because frankly after being apart from Y/N for so long, he didn’t want anyone invading their space unless absolutely necessary. (Exceptions would obviously be made for their child.) He just wanted to touch her all the fucking time, just pet her skin or kiss up and down her neck, and sometimes he kissed her hard against the wall just because he could. As they stood next to each other, her hands gripping the back of his striped t-shirt and his fingers brushing up and down her spine, he wanted everyone to leave so he could love on her as much as he wanted.

When Y/N started to yawn, Harry knew it was time to wrap up the party. He did the honors of ushering their guests out, knowing she was too kind to ever pressure people to leave, but Harry had no problem forcing people to leave his home so that he could be alone with her. Peter lingered behind to help pick up the yard while Y/N and Harry washed dishes in the kitchen. Fleetwood Mac flowed from the speaker and they moved around one another in ease, comments about the party passed between them. Harry pinched her hip when she scooted past him and she swatted his ass with a towel in retaliation, a playful smile directed his way.

“Love you,” she murmured against his shoulder, nosing at the shirt stretched across his body. His hands were in soapy water as he washed a plate so he couldn’t touch her, which he felt was a crime, but he settled for just turning his head and kissing her temple.

“Love you too,” he replied. “Now get back to drying, you’re messing up our flow.” She giggled and he handed her a plate, which she wiped dry. Her father came inside with the rest of the decorations and items that had been left outside, and Harry directed him to put them in the garage. Going through all of them was on his to-do list for tomorrow, but he didn’t have the energy to do it now. After that, Peter showed himself out, promising to call Harry the next day to talk about the song he had mentioned wanting to work through with him. Harry had never thought having a talented musician as a father-in-law of sorts would be so nice, but now that he had Peter he loved being able to give him a call and get his opinion on a mix or the bridge of a song he was working on.

The dishes were finished, and Harry pulled the plug in the sink to let the soapy water drain before wiping his hands on a towel and turning to Y/N. “I was thinking a late night swim might be nice,” he said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“I don’t want to try and find a suit that fits,” Y/N said with a frown, hand brushing over her belly.

Harry would personally have favored if she was naked all the time. “Don’t need one, love. C’mon—I’ll turn on the fairy lights you love.”

She smiled and nodded, letting him lead her to outside to the porch. Outside, it was dark, moonlight illuminating the outline of the large oak trees in the backyard, the shed with the lawnmower Harry had been meaning to replace, and a vegetable garden they had put in before tour. Hanna had tended to it while they were gone, and then it was Y/N’s responsibility, and she had done a good job—they had little tomatoes and beans and broccoli and a variety of herbs, which Harry loved cooking with. A few feet past the patio was the pool, the concrete surrounding it strewn with reclining chairs where they loved to sunbathe in the afternoons, Harry running sunblock over Y/N’s stretched skin.

When his feet met the concrete of the patio, Harry tugged his shirt off, then his pants and briefs, before turning to look at Y/N. She was struggling with the tie at the back of her dress, and Harry motioned for her to turn, his fingers deftly pulling the ties loose and then tugging her zipper down her back. “Beautiful,” he murmured, pressing a series of kisses to her spine that had her shivering. He helped her out of her undergarments, and then she stood before him bathed in moonlight and the soft glow of the fairy lights that twinkled around them. Her full breasts, a hand rubbing over her belly where their child rested. She looked almost ethereal, a vision, a dream. “Come on, love,” he said, walking towards the pool.

He dropped into the water without a pause, the cool temperature washing over his skin deliciously. When he poked his head up to the top of to the water, he found Y/N sitting on the edge of the pool, her feet dangling in. “It’s cold,” she said, kicking some water into his face.

Harry moved towards her, pulled like magnets, and snatched her feet. Littering her leg with kisses and leaving her giggling for him, he found a spot between her knees, his chest pressed to the side of the pool. “Feels good, though.” His hands swept over her belly, and he nosed at her bare skin. “Want to go for a swim, Peanut? Think it’ll feel good, but Mumma isn’t so sure.”

“God, you’re so annoying,” Y/N said, pushing at his chest so she could slide into the pool. She landed on the bottom and immediately reached for Harry, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Did you have fun today?”

Harry pulls her thighs up so he can hold her close, and her fingers scratch at the nape of his neck. “I did. You were so happy.”

“Not just about my happiness, you mush. You seemed pretty happy too.”

This was true, but the sight of Y/N happy made him happy. “I was, baby,” he reassured her. She pressed her lips to his, one of love and care, and then pulled away, resting her head on his shoulder. He just held her close, adoring the feeling of her bare skin on his, their child nestled between them, basking in the glow that was loving her.

Harry dipped the tongs into the pasta water, grabbing at a piece and pulling it out of the hot water to test its readiness. Y/N was standing next to him, tossing the salad they had put together, and trying to hold herself together. The contractions had been coming and going all day, pain that radiated up her spine as she clenched her jaw and tried to continue her activities. They’d called the midwife the minute they started and she had been there ever since, helping Y/N with breathing patterns and guiding her into different positions to keep the pain from overwhelming her. They hadn’t been regular, though, so they were still at home, waiting for the contractions to speed up or even out.

“Another one?” Harry asked, peeking over at her, her hands clenching the edge of the counter as another contraction rolled through her body. She nodded shakily, and Harry ran his hand across her back. “Breathe for me love, remember? In, out, even—there you go.” Once he was breathing more evenly, he went to pour out the pasta, wanting to make sure Y/N had strength for the delivery that was for sure coming.

It might have seemed unusual that Harry and Y/N were cooking dinner—the midwife had sure thought so, but it felt good to have something for Y/N to focus her mind on, even if it was just putting together a salad and watching Harry cook. It was better than doing uncomfortable exercises in the backyard to try get the labor moving along. They’d tried her squatting, her waddling around, her doing loud yells, and none of it had worked. She was exhausted.

All of a sudden, a dull pain lashed through her and she dropped the tongs to the counter with a clatter, the metal hitting the granite countertops.“Fuckkk,” Y/N groaned, clenching the edge of the counter and trying to breathe in and out.

“That was faster,” Harry said, panic rising inside of him. He looked to the midwife, who was on her feet and moving towards them from where she had been sitting on the couch reading a book. “Right?”

“Yes,” the midwife, Sarah, told them both, coming to Y/N’s side. “Breathe for me, Y/N, okay? I need to start counting them. Can you do that with me?”

Harry had completely forgotten about dinner as he counted with Sarah and Y/N, timing the distance between her contractions. Y/N was panting so hard and all Harry could do was grip her hand when she reached out for him, and hold it and watch in sheer horror at the pain in her face. It had been like this all day, but this—this looked different somehow, more intense. Her fingers were squeezing his palm so tightly he thought she might cut off circulation.

Together, they managed to move Y/N to the couch, where she could be more comfortable. Her contractions were coming faster and more frequent over the next hour, dinner completely forgotten—Harry could tell and Sarah agreed. “Harry,” Sarah said, breaking her focus on Y/N to look at him, “is the hospital bag ready?”

It had been ready for two weeks—he’d done it the day after he had gotten home and checked it almost every day to make sure they had everything. “Yes,” he said.

“Go get it.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and Harry pressed a kiss to her hand before scampering upstairs to the nursery to grab it. He took the stairs two at a time, eager not to be away from her for too long. When he reached the nursery, he looked around and thought to himself that the next time he would be there, his little Emerson would be coming home.

Downstairs, Sarah was counting with Y/N again, talking her through the contractions and the pain. When Harry reappeared, she waved him over before taking out her phone. “Take her,” she told him. “I’m going to call the hospital.”

“It’s time?” Y/N looked up in panic, before another contraction made her moan, her fingers squeezing Harry’s. “Oh my god, H, it’s happening.”

Harry scooted next to her on the couch and pressed a kiss to her sweaty brow. “It’s happening, love. How does it feel?”

“Like hell,” she said, teeth clenched. “They said it hurts but fuck this is horrible. Why do women have to experience this? Fuck, Emerson, baby, please calm down.”

Sarah was talking to the hospital in the background, giving them information on Y/N’s contractions and Harry was only half listening, mostly focusing on Y/N’s eyes, which were darting around the room. “Got the bag ready,” he said, trying to distract her. “We’ve got everything we need. Plenty of gas in the car, too—checked this morning.” He did it every morning now, just to be sure that if it happened suddenly, he would be ready to drive.

“What—fuck—about dinner?”

Harry just chuckled, brushing her hair back. “I’ll have Gemma come by and clean up. Don’t give a shit about the pasta getting stuck to the bottom of the pan.”

She leaned into Harry’s neck and exhaled sharply, clutching his leg. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to have another kid,” she said, “because this is fucking torture.”

Before Harry could reply, Sarah turned to them. “They’re waiting for you—let’s go you two! Time to meet little Emerson!”

Harry drove like a calm, collected, race car driver on the roads. Trying to go as fast as possible without getting pulled over, jumpy because every time Y/N moaned he freaked out a bit, just praying he would get the hospital soon so that they could give her something for the pain. At one point he had brought up natural birth and she had given a look like he made him immediately shut up and never bring it up again. Now that he was seeing labor in person, he fully understood why.

He pulled into the hospital, following Sarah’s instructions for what entrance to use, and put the car into park. People were rushing to the car with a wheelchair which he knew Y/N would hate, but she needed it. He let them get her out of the car before parking it horribly and racing after them, hospital thrown over his shoulder and his phone in his hand. He was having a baby, he thought to himself after the door slid shut behind and he walked alongside Y/N as she was wheeled down the hall. He was going to be a dad today.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” Y/N panted, holding onto Harry as she looked at the doctors around her. They’d given her an epidural, which helped, but she was fucking exhausted. She’d been pushing in time with her contractions for two hours and her body felt like it was on its last limb. Even though she couldn’t feel the pain, she could feel the ache in her muscles and she just wanted to sleep for hours. But she was dilated to ten centimeters and it was time to do the final pushes. She was in the home stretch.

“Come on, love,” Harry said, brushing at her forehead. “You’re so close, yeah? You can do it, baby.” His eyes bore into hers, the hazel irises overwhelming her. The look of love and pride and utter awe written all over his features.

“I need you to push for me, Y/N,” her doctor said. She could see him between her legs, where he was looking up at her. “Emerson is ready to meet you both.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath, and then she pushed as hard as she could, bearing down on Harry’s hand so hard she thought she might break it, but he didn’t say anything. Just held her tight and repeated encouraging words, telling her how good she was doing, how she could do it, how they were so close to meeting their baby.

“I can see the head,” the doctor informed her when Y/N took a breath. “Another one—okay? You’re doing great.”

She looked at Harry, the eyes pricking both of their eyes at the prospect of meeting little Emerson finally. And then she shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed with every fiber of her being, desperately wanting to meet her child and let this be over. She screamed—she could hear it in her ears as her body tensed, toes and fingers curling.

And then she heard the most beautiful sound in the world.

The cry of a baby.

“Oh,” Harry gasped, kissing her hand in his, making her look at him. He was crying in the chair next to her, tears rolling down his face, utterly overwhelmed. “You did it, baby.”

“It’s a girl,” the doctor said, giving them a wide smile.

A girl. “Emmy,” she said, the nickname claiming its place in her heart immediately.

“A little girl,” Harry murmured in awe, and she couldn’t stop the tears rolling down her face at the sight of him, overwhelmed with love for her and their child.

The doctor pulled away slightly from her and looked to Harry. “Do you want to cut the cord, Dad?”

Y/N’s heart lurched at the doctor calling Harry “Dad”—the kind that utterly took her breath away. Harry was moving in an instant, going to where the doctor was situated. “Harry, what does she look like?”

Harry’s curly hair bounced as he looked from their child to her. “Pink,” he said simply, a giggle leaving his lips. “Beautiful.” Then she heard a snip and the umbilical cord was cut, and the doctor was handing her baby to Harry.

She wanted to see her child, but the next thing she knew she was being told to keep pushing, that she had to deliver the placenta, so she focused on the task at hand. She was worn out, but she reminded herself that she sooner she did this, the sooner she could hold Emerson in her arms. When she was done, she sagged into the hospital bed and stretched out her arms to Harry, who was swaying slightly, their child held close in his arms.

Y/N looked at her child in awe. Ten fingers and ten toes, two little green eyes that stared up at her when Harry set her against her chest, a tiny nose and adorable lips that puckered and stretched. Emerson. Her baby, her child, the person who she loved with her entire soul from the moment she discovered her existence. “Hi, Emerson,” she whispered, brushing at her face.

Harry knelt next to Y/N, kissing her forehead. “She has your nose.”

“How in the world can you tell?”

He shrugged. “Just can.”

She looked up at Harry and found his eyes, the one their daughter shared. “I love you.”

He kissed her lips, the love that flowed between them overpowering every other feeling in her her body. “I love you so much, Y/N. Feel like the luckiest man in the world—I’ve got you and I’ve got little Emmy.” Then, he was nudging at Emerson’s hand with his forefinger, and Y/N watched in amazement as her daughter opened her little fingers and clasped Harry’s finger, as if to know it was her father.

She was a true wonder, and Y/N couldn’t look at anything else.

TWO YEARS LATER

Harry set his daughter down on the counter, her chubby thighs nestled against his torso. She had on a pair of overalls and a baby blue shirt, a pair of little baby Converse that Harry had absolutely lost it over when he saw them. He had discovered an obsession with baby clothes and had turned Emerson into his personal model, despite Y/N’s annoyance at the size of her daughter’s closet.

“Need to put your hair up, Ems, otherwise it’s going to get all in the food,” he told her, pulling at the hair ties he now always had on his wrist for moments like these. His daughter’s dark brown curls that matched his own were long enough to where they had to be tied up, otherwise they would end up tangled in seconds.

Emerson looked up at him, her hazel eyes peeking up at him under long eyelashes. Y/N always joked that she was a spitting image of Harry, and he couldn’t help but admit it was true. He adored it—seeing his child, who was so obviously his, but with a personality that was so Y/N it made him laugh sometimes. Her stubbornness, the way she insisted on her own way, even her little opinions that were starting to peek out as her vocabulary grew. It drove Y/N bonkers, but Harry loved discovering more and more of his child.

He swept her hair into a ponytail, something he had become adept at in the two years of being a father. As he tugged the hair tie around her locks, Emmy’s hands made their way to Harry’s hair, which had grown longer recently. Y/N had been working up a storm since she was promoted last year, and Harry had taken on the role of full-time stay at home Dad with glee, but it did mean things like shaving and hair cuts had fallen by the wayside. He didn’t mind though, and Y/N didn’t seem to either, from the way she nuzzled her face against his bit of a beard, and tugged on the ends of his hair when they made love.

Emerson had a similar obsession with Harry’s hair, another thing she shared with her mother, and it always made Harry burst with love whenever his daughter played with his hair. “Papa’s hair is soft,” she mumbled as he tightened the hair tie so none would fall out. “Like mine!”

He poked his daughter on the nose, loving how her eyes scrunched up. “That it is, my little angel. Ready to cook with Papa?”

“Yes!” Her hands reached for him to pick her up, which he did, swinging her onto his hip as he moved to her designated spot on the floor next to where he would be set up by the stove. It was their nightly routine—as Harry cooked dinner for them all, Emerson played with the wooden cooking toys that Harry had bought for her, babbling at his feet. It kept her entertained while he got dinner done, just in time for when Y/N got home from work.

He situated her on the floor and pulled out her box of toys from the cabinet, squatting down to unload the wooden bowls, spoons, and fake foods inside. Emerson grabbed at each of them, telling him the name, as he had taught her. “Bowl, spoon, cheese!” She said, looking at him with wide eyes to see if she got it right.

“Good job,” he said, kissing her forehead before standing to his full height. “Where’s your apron?”

“My apron!” Emerson babbled with a gasp, grabbing at her clothes.

Harry chuckled at the sight before grabbing her yellow apron that Harris had sewn her for her second birthday, something far too gorgeous for a two-year-old, but Emerson was utterly obsessed, so Harry didn’t make a fuss about it. “Apron!” She said when he tied it around her neck and her little waist. “Papa, spoon!” She was holding her wooden spoon up at him and Harry smiled at his daughter, her love for their little traditions making his heart soar.

He grabbed his own spoon from the cup on the counter, bending down and bumping it against his daughter’s mini version. “Spoons unite!” He said, the sound of his daughter’s giggles filling his ears. “What do you want to listen to while we cook, bubs?”

“Hmm.” Emerson dropped the block of cheese and some nondescript meat into a bowl and twirled them around with her spoon. “Papa!”

“Me?” Recently Emerson had become obsessed with his music, constantly requesting for him to play it. Fine Line had come out just a few months ago and she loved Watermelon Sugar, which Y/N utterly hated since she knew what it was about, but Harry found it hilarious. “Which one?”

“Watamelon Suga!” She said, struggling with her Rs. She bounced up and down on her knees in excitement until he was hooking up the music over the speakers. When it came on, she immediately began bopping her head back and forth to the music and trying to sing, which Harry found positively adorable.

He started to make dinner, chopping up vegetables for a stir-fry that he knew Emerson liked. He had been trying to help her branch out into new foods, which Y/N kept on reminding him was really unnecessary considering she was barely two years old, but he liked seeing her little face screw up when she didn’t like something or eyes widen when she liked it. They sang along to his songs, and every so often he’d peek down and check on Emmy, who was happily pretend cooking with her toys, making all sorts of things. Sometimes he would ask what she was making and she would reply with any foods that came to mind that she had heard him mention, even if it was completely incorrect. One time she said she was making a cake, but she had a broccoli and some grapes in the bowl, and he tried not to crack up at the sight.

“Papa!” He looked down at his daughter, her spoon raised at him. “Look at my spoon!”

He chuckled, bending down to take a picture of her holding her spoon up triumphantly. “You just love your spoon, huh?” He snapped the photo and posted it on his Close Friends story on Instagram, which was 90% photos of Emerson doing random things throughout the day.

“Papa’s spoon is bigger,” she said, struggling with the last syllable of bigger, but making it through.

“It is. But yours is pink, which I like a lot.”

Emerson examined her spoon, and then lifted it to Harry, rubbing her nose on the back of her tiny hand. “You can use it, Papa!”

His heart melted at his daughter’s generosity, which was overflowing. She was always offering for him to borrow her toys or to let other kids to use her things, and he loved her kind soul. It was another thing that came from Y/N, he was sure of it, since he hated sharing as a kid. “Thank you, bubs, but I’m fine with mine.” He kissed her hand and she smiled at him, before going back to her cooking.

Fifteen minutes later, he heard the garage door open and close, and Emerson must have heard it too because she on her feet immediately, teetering out of the kitchen in the direction of the garage. “Mama!” She screamed, and Harry smiled at the sound of Y/N’s voice, her soft reply of “Hello, pumpkin,” and the soft laughter of his daughter cascading through the house.

“Smells good,” she said, and Harry’s eyes caught hers as she entered the kitchen, Emerson resting on her hip. Her little head was on Y/N’s shoulder, each hand scrunched in her work shirt, eyes flickering over Harry. “Stir fry?”

Harry gave his love a kiss on the forehead. “Mhm, know how much my two girls love it.”

“That we do,” Y/N replied, hiking Emmy up a bit on her hip. “Did you have fun with Papa today, bubs?”

“Yes!” Emerson replied, picking her head up and smiling at them both, her little baby teeth showing. “We went to park and made new friends. Charlie, right, Papa?”

He nodded, brushing a hand across Y/N’s shoulders and rubbing into the tense muscle there. She lolled her head back on his arm and smiled at him, a silent thank you passing between them. “Then we got some lunch at our favorite spot, and took a swim in the pool.”

“I kicked Papa!” Emerson said excitedly to her mother, and she laughed in response.

“Did you get him all wet?” Emerson nodded, and Y/N brushed her hand to Harry’s side, the touch warming him immediately. “Sounds like fun. Maybe we can have a pool day tomorrow?”

It was Saturday, the whole family’s favorite day. Emerson got both of her parents all day, and Y/N and Harry usually had date night, Emerson going to her grandpa’s house for the night. It was a tradition they’d had since she was born, and one that had become incredible important to them. “I think that sounds great,” Harry said. “Ems, can you help Mama get dressed for dinner?”

“Yes!” Emerson loved watching her mother get dressed and Harry firmly believed that she was inheriting his love of clothes from the way she loved to run her hands over the materials.

Y/N chuckled and pressed a kiss to Harry’s cheek before she walked out of the kitchen, their daughter on her hip. She chatted to Emerson about her day, asking questions about what she and Harry had done in her absence and answering her daughter’s questions. Harry got dinner finished up, putting the stir fry into bowls for him and Y/N and a smaller amount into a bowl for Emerson, cutting it up into smaller bites so she could eat it more easily. He placed them on the table and filled up a glass of wine for both Y/N and himself, before switching the music to some nice relaxing jazz while they ate.

Y/N reappeared in one of Harry’s old tour shirts and sweatpants, an excited Emerson trailing after her on the stairs. She was scooting down them hesitantly, something she had recently become obsessed with doing and Y/N and Harry were letting her do while supervised. Harry was terrified of her cracking her head open on the stairs, but Y/N told him it was important for her to develop confidence in her ability to move around, so he tried to let it go.

“Ready for dinner, Ems?” He asked, picking her up and settling her into her high chair. She nodded and he handed her little fork and her bowl, before settling into his seat next to her. Y/N sat down in the seat opposite him, reaching out for her wine glass and taking a long sip. “How was work, love?”

“Long,” she replied, tucking her napkin into her lap and picking up her fork. “I got that presentation done I was working on. I think we’re planning to bring someone else on, which would be a huge help.”

“When’s that going to be?” Harry took a bite of his food before reaching over and helping Emerson to get some food onto her fork, noticing she was struggling.

Y/N sighed, and Harry looked up at her, noticing the exhaustion in her eyes. “Soon hopefully. There’s way too much on my plate and there’s just no way I can get it all done.”

“I hope they figure it out soon,” he told her, reaching across the table and squeezing her hand. “Want to have a bath after dinner? I can do nighttime tonight.”

“You sure? You’ve been with her all day—“

“Hush,” Harry cut her off with a smile. “You know I love doing it. Want you to relax, okay?”

She nodded, lifting their clasped hands so she could press a kiss to his knuckles. “Thank you.”

“Of course, love. Emmy and I have a book to finish, right, bubs?”

Emerson nodded, and then launched into a mildly botched description of the book they had started reading last night, one about a girl detective that she really liked. Harry was passionate about reading to her every night, as it helped her settle down and developed quite a healthy imagination that he loved. They chatted for the rest of dinner about what they wanted to do the following day, deciding that Harry was going to make biscuits, Emerson’s favorite, and have a pool day, since it was quickly becoming too cool outside to have a proper pool day. Harry loved that about California, though, that it was warm year round so even in September they could be outside in the sun and he could work on teaching Emerson how to swim. Y/N wanted her to be comfortable in the water so they could feel safer with her around the pool, so they had been working on teaching her how to get in and out of the pool how to kick and how to breathe. So far, she was a natural, a little fish, Y/N called her.

After dinner, Harry helped Emerson into her pajamas after changing her diaper—they were still struggling with potty training—and watched her as she brushed her teeth triumphantly in the mirror. Then, they recited their nightly affirmations, thinking of something they were thankful of and something they liked about themselves. Harry had implemented it from the moment Emerson had started learning to talk, and now it was a nightly ritual for them.

“I’m thankful for Papa,” Emerson said, making Harry smile as he stood behind her in the mirror, the resemblance between them startling. “I like that I was nice to Charlie. What about you, Papa?”

“I’m thankful for Emerson and Mama,” he told her, tickling her sides and making her giggle, “and I like that I was able to help Mama tonight when she was stressed.”

Emerson turned around, gave her father a peck on the cheek, and lifted her arms for him to carry her to bed. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, clinging to him like a koala, and Harry walked her to her bed, pushing aside the princess netting she had fallen in love with at Target one day and had nearly thrown a tantrum about before they bought it. She snuggled into his side as he curled up next to her, grabbing the book from the bedside table to continue reading. She rested her head on his chest, eyes on the book that he had opened for them to read, and he sighed from the feeling of his daughter nestled into him. He loved the moments like this of being a father, the quiet ones of just him and Emerson, the world falling away from him.

Being a dad was his proudest achievement.

Once Emerson was asleep, he got up, tucking her in and making sure her nightlight was on before shutting the door gently behind him. Down the hall, Y/N was waiting for him, tucked into bed with a book she was reading.

“Hi you,” he said, shutting their door behind him, the wood creaking softly as he leaned against it. “Missed you today.”

She looked up, taking in the sight of the man she loved standing next to the door. His hair as all askew from her daughter’s pillow and his voice was a bit raw from reading, clothes creased from a long day with a two-year-old with plenty of energy. But she loved him like this, so obviously a father, taking every part of his role with a smile on his face.  “You say that every night.”

“That’s because I miss you every day,” he said, moving towards her. “Now come here, wanna hold my girl.”

But Y/N waved him away. “Go get ready for bed. Don’t want you to have to get up later.”

“Fine,” Harry said, rolling his eyes at her, but followed her directions anyways. While he brushed his teeth and washed his face, she chatted about work and asked questions about Emerson’s day, wanting to know what she had missed out on. As much as she loved working, she hated being away from her family all day. After he had stripped out of his clothes, just his briefs hanging on his hips, he pulled back the duvet and pulled Y/N into his side. “That better?”

She rolled on top of him, her book long forgotten on their bedside table. “Much.” Her knees came up on either side of his hips and she tucked her hands into his hair, tugging softly as he pulled him into a kiss. She lost herself in the taste of his lips, a home she loved returning to every day, a home she never wanted to leave. His fingers trailed down her body, rucking up the edge of the shirt she wore and smoothing across her back. She shivered under his touch and he smirked, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth and making her pant his name.

“Thought you were tired,” he mumbled, brushing his lips down her neck in short kisses that had her panting in his ear.

“Not too tired for this,” she replied, and when she rolled her hips over his, Harry groaned, hot and heavy into her neck. She wanted him always, it seemed, unable to get enough of the way he touched her, even after a child and plenty of sleepless nights, she still found the energy to love on him. It filled her up, the way he brushed her skin with his kisses and showed her how much he appreciated her.

“Gonna kill me, love.” His hands, bare from his usual rings, pressed into her hips, anchoring her against him. “Ya sure? Don’t have to.”

But Y/N had other plans, wiggling free from his grip and kissing a line down his chest. Harry was mumbling her name as she moved, tugging at her skin as she disappeared under the comforter and pulled his briefs down his legs. He pushed at the duvet, desperate to keep his eyes on hers, and Y/N loved it, wanting nothing more than to see his face as she drew pleasure from his body. “Want to show you how thankful I am for you,” she told him, before spitting on his dick and pumping the spit in her hand.

“Fuck.” Harry gripped the sheets to try and hold himself together. Nighttime was her favorite time of day, because it was when she got him all to herself, Emerson far enough down the hall that they could do whatever they liked without waking her up most times. They’d had some close calls, but so far they were blessed with a daughter who loved to sleep and they’d made sure to put her on a sleep cycle early on so she was trained to sleep through the night by now.

Y/N tugged her hand up and down him a few times, before licking a stripe up the underside of him. Harry pushed at her hair, tugging it into a ponytail so he could see her face as she did it and the light from their bedside tables illuminating his face. His wide eyes, the same ones their daughter had, stared back at her, blown wide with desire, his tongue licking across his lip as he watched her move. “Wanna taste you,” she said, pressing a kiss to his tip.

“God,” Harry mumbled, bucking his hips up into her touch and she loved the control she had over him. “Can do anything you want to me, baby.”

Without waiting, her lips were around his tip, taking him into her mouth and Harry moaned, fingers digging into the sheets from the sensation of being inside her. He was heavy in her mouth and she loved how he brushed her throat and panted her name, barely holding himself together and she licked at him. She knew everything that set him off after years of being together and used it all. Scratched at his thighs, hummed over him, batted her eyelashes at him, mumbled his name.

She knew Harry wasn’t going to last, though, he never did. Far preferred being inside of her to coming in her mouth and told her often. “Love,” he said, reaching for her and trying to pull her off of him. “Need you.”

She decided to play with him a bit, wind him up just because she could. “Where do you need me?”

He whined, pulling at her hair to try and get her to move up him, a desperation overtaking his body. “Around me. Need your pussy.”

Those were the magic words for her. She climbed up him, capturing his lips in hers for a passionate kiss that had them grinding against each other like kids. He was hard against her clit, the wetness of both of their desire mixing and allowing him to slide easily between her folds. When he bumped her clit with his tip she whimpered, and Harry lost it, unable to wait any longer.

He flipped them, Y/N yelping as she landed on her back, a soft giggle escaping her lips as he settled over her. “Little tease,” he scolded with a playful smile, sucking on her neck, the soft spot that always had her pawing at his skin.

“H,” she panted, pushing her hips up to his. “Please.”

She was on an IUD, had been since they’d started having sex after Emerson was born. Neither of them were in the market for another kid right now, as much as they loved Emmy, she was plenty of a handful for both of them. They wanted to wait longer, get their life together and more settled before they had the conversation about more kids, although it definitely wasn’t off the table. Especially since Y/N had said yes when he had bent down on one knee, a year after Emerson was born, unable to wait any longer. For now, though,  they were in no rush to marry, just enjoying building a life together, raising Emmy, and being together. Maybe it hadn’t been the life either of them expected, but now that they were living it there was no turning back.

Y/N pushed his hair off his forehead and tugged at the ends, pulling his head to hers so she could pull him into a kiss that left them both breathless. “H, fuck me, please.”

“Good God,” he panted against her lips. “One day you truly are going to kill me.” With that, he moved slightly and pressed his tip to her slit, both of them groaning as he pushed inside. It had been a few days, the longest they usually went since they, even after a child, couldn’t get enough of each other. Y/N quickly adjusted to his size, because after four years with Harry she couldn’t remember what it was even like to be with someone else—he was so good to her, always.

Her legs twined around his waist and pulled him deeper into her, and Harry moaned her name into her neck as he sunk in and then pulled back out. He leaned on his elbows on either side of her face, his head falling so his forehead knocked against hers when he pushed into her, but neither of them minded. They loved being this close, so close she could feel the beads on sweat on his chest and hear his every exhale in her ears. He was deep, deliciously so, and when he nudged the back of her walls, finding that spot that drive her wild she arched her back into him. “Feel so good,” she murmured, attaching her lips to the column of his neck, sponging kisses down it. “H, fuck fuck fuck—“ He drove into her, deeper than before, and the impact had her scratching lines down his back, red angry marks left in their trail that he would admire in the morning and Y/N would blush at the sight of.

“Yeah? Like feeling me inside of you?” He nudged at her nose, turning her head so he could kiss underneath her earlobe, a soft spot that left her keening in his touch. “Made for me, you know. Just…made for me and only me. You’re mine, love—fuck—mine forever. Can’t wait to marry you, Y/N, please,” he spat when she fluttered around him, walls pulling him deep. He stuttered inside of her, barely inches from tumbling over the edge, but he wanted her to come first, always wanted her to finish first. “Close for me, baby?”

She nodded frantically, pulling at his biceps to keep her steady and he thrusted into her at a fast pace, their bed squeaking slightly. “Want you to come, too,” she told him, lips finding his in a quick kiss.

“I’ll come when you do,” he promised, because he could never hold himself together when she came around him. Had never been able to and would never be able to. “Come for me, love.” His words were rough in her ears, murmuring and begging for her.

With another thrust and a sloppy kiss to her nipples, she was coming, panting his name in breaths that left her gasping for air. Harry finished right after her, slamming into her and shuddering against her body as he fell, sweaty skin kissing sweaty skin. He rested his head on her chest and her fingers combed through his hair, brushing at the locks just like he loved. “When do you want to get married?” She asked him after a few minutes of lying there.

He picked his head up and looked at her and she saw the sparkle in his eyes that she adored. “Tomorrow. I don’t care, Y/N, as long as it’s to you.”

She kissed his forehead and pushed a curl back. “I want to do it in Holmes Chapel, like we talked about.  Or maybe Italy. In the Spring? Before Emmy is three.”

He slid his arms under her and pulled her up so she was sitting in his lap, her legs around his hips, and he grinned at her. “Yeah? You wanna marry me in the Spring?”

“As long as it’s to you,” she said, and Harry chuckled into her skin, before capturing her lips in his, just as sweet as the first time he tasted them. “I’m so glad I made an exception for you.” Her words were a quiet confession, and one that Harry had heard multiple times over the past four years of being with her, but ones that never ceased to make him love her more.

“Your only exception,” he mumbled, kisses dusting across her cheeks, showering her in his affection.

She nodded, holding his cheeks in hers, eyes boring into his, the ones he dreamed of when he was gone. “My only exception.”

TAGLIST: @smokeinherperfume @afire-hes @harryinsweatersandbandanas @marinalima3 @havethetimeofyourstyles @ursogoldenshan @inmygardensuit @marinalima3 @amaridon @harrys-watermelons @dontgiveupthedayjob @cronias13 @apples2019 @laula843 @afterstylesmadeit  @kait-brin @harrys-watermelons @groovybaybee @clumsywithlove93 @1142590m @erin0717 @ketchuplukehemmo​  @harrysclementines​  @meetmeinfleetwood​ @kakaym @harrystyles-concepts @harrymoncheri @berrynarrybanana​ @samjo1986 @adams-tammy72

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

23. Journey to Maternity

Word Count” 6861 This is the longest chapter since The Apex is Falling, and is actually longer so to all appropriate - either I’m sorry or you’re welcome for the length of this one. Trigger Warnings: I don’t honestly know at this point in the story. I feel like we simply revisit old trauma of the characters that were previously outlined. So, any triggers concerning Simon or Hazel of this AU may be ones to watch out for in this installment. Also, violence towards the end.

Previous

The legal team behind Simon was very adamant about the contents of that recording never seeing the light of day. Grace was fine with it, because she hadn’t wanted him to be seen that way either, falling apart in her arms and whatnot, but she did want to keep it as proof that Simon’s stories contradicted the truth. She needed it, even. Working on seeing Hazel more was becoming a struggle the more that her name kept coming up associated with Simon’s, so she wanted to be certain to detach herself from that, altogether, if she could. 

Her parents seemed interested in seeing what he had to say. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to discuss most of that with them, yet. They just... weren’t there yet. Grace had yet to apologize to her mother for attacking her, and didn’t think that she would be ready any time soon, as in her mind, her mom earned what she read she did to her. Nearly 5 years later and she never recalled, only read about it in her file when trying to digest it with her therapist. Until she was ready to face it, she couldn’t say that she was ready to face her mother... but her mother seemed ready to face her, and she didn’t seem as standoffish as she had been the previous time that they had been face to face. Grace didn’t know if she could say that the woman was trying, necessarily, but she seemed to be at least thinking about things.

She wanted to know how Grace was doing. Not what she was doing. That, in and of itself, was a huge difference in their previous relationship. Whenever her parents visited New York, they took her to a Broadway show, went to museums, the opera - things that they enjoyed and wanted to share with her, and some things that she enjoyed that they hadn’t previously made time for. Her father was especially overbearing, she figured from the guilt of pushing her into Simon’s arms, now having learned of all of the things that Simon had put her through. She had halfway expected him to make excuses for Simon, to somehow blame her for not being tamed by him or whatever. But, he seemed to be working on not only that mode of thinking, but things with his wife as well. Grace was shook by how... affectionate they seemed these days. 

Long story short(er), she told them about Hazel and how much she had been working to be able to see her. She told them about Simon even sitting down with the DCFS to clarify a character reference for her and how they said that they would keep this in mind, but the home that Hazel was currently at was growing weary of the girl’s “situation” and she was truly afraid that if Hazel was moved again, there would be no way that she would ever find her again, and even if she did... what if the next family wasn’t as understanding or cooperative? What if the next judge didn’t grant her the same sort of access after the caregiver changed?

“Why don’t YOU just adopt her, Honey?” Her father asked. 

“Honey? And... WHAT?” Of course, Grace was way ahead of him. That was her ultimate goal, day by day, she was getting closer to being brave enough to go through with it. But, her parents hadn’t thought her capable of responsibilities since she was a kid. “Dad... You can’t be serious? You think that I could actually take in a child?”

“You love her, you work hard to make sure she has all the support you can give her, you give her things and look out for her. I think you’re more capable than what she’s had so far,” he said. Her mother was quiet, so she knew that she didn’t agree. But, for argument’s sake, she wanted to hear in what way.

“What do you think, Mom?”

Her mother sighed and said, “I think that your father wanted you to start a family by now and he’s being a little bit presumptuous to think that you want that for yourself.” She looked at her husband to add, “She’s been through enough. Raising a child isn’t easy. Even with help... Even... with the help doing most of the work...” She looked guilty when she said that. “It’s a huge responsibility. Grace is a young career woman, moments away from a degree from Julliard, living out her dreams as a musician and dancer in the big city. To just stop that and become a mother sounds far-fetched and idealistic. Just loving a child doesn’t make for a good mother.”  Then, looking right at Grace, she finally admitted, “You didn’t... have any... role model in this field...”

“There’s books for that,” Grace said, repeating something Hazel once told her. But, it put her mind and heart at ease to finally hear SOME type of accountability from her mom, even that small step. 

“Are you saying that you WANT to adopt this girl, Grace?” Her mother asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m saying that... I want her to have the stable home life that she deserves.” She laughed and said, “But, I’ve actually already looked into trying to adopt her and it hasn’t gone right.”

Mr. Monroe gave his gasping wife a smug grin. “You’ve... already tried, and you let us have an entire debate about the matter?” Her mother confirmed, mildly insulted.

“Yeah. I wanted to see what you’d say... what you think about my ability to be able to do it. You two would probably know best. I mean... You did some parenting, despite things I’ve said in the past. I never wanted for anything. I may have needed a few less tangible things, but that’s fine, because so far, where I felt like I lacked in getting, I feel like I’m able to fulfill with Hazel. We’re so good for each other.”

Mrs. Monroe growled, “Then, what’s the problem? Surely the state of California doesn’t think you’re unfit?”

“I think that they do, Mom. And... I can see why...”

“Nonsense. We’ll take care of this,” Mr. Monroe said.

Grace laughed and shook her head, “You two always think that puffing your chests and throwing money at things will somehow fix them.”

“It does,” they both said, in unison. One of the RARE occasions that those two saw eye to eye. Grace shrugged her shoulders. If her parents thought that they could somehow help her, she wasn’t going to turn them down. But, she wasn’t going to get her hopes up, either. 

.

Mrs. Monroe’s team was in full effect, partnering with Grace’s representation to fully utilize Grace’s current public opinion, recent events, her recovery record, and maintained health and wellness to campaign for her as a fit adoptive parent. No information was put out about Hazel during that time, as to be sure not to violate any of her privacy, but people knew from the times she had spoken of  her exactly what child she meant and Hazel’s current caretakers even spoke in favor of Grace.

People were sending emails and adding departments to “at” for her journey to motherhood. Her parents were putting a lot of money into getting her an approved space that would check all of the boxes better than her current college girl place or even the properties that she generally borrowed from them to host her visits with Hazel. She and Hazel would most likely be traveling because of Grace’s career as an entertainer, and the Monroe’s seemed to be trying to fill in some of the blanks they realized they caused in Grace’s development the only way that they knew how. So, they were granting her properties for the traveling that she would have to do and making certain that every space Hazel would occupy exceeded the legal requirements. 

Within 6 months of getting her parents into the groove, something that she had been trying to finesse for the past few years was settled! Grace didn’t often like to take a look at her financial privilege, but in this particular case, she was extremely grateful that her parents were wealthy and that she now had someone for whom she could pass some of that down to.

The. Very. Day. that she was able to finalize her paperwork, her mother had ordered a “maternity shoot,” for them. There were huge announcements of the date and a big name photographer to drop the images, now that she could publicize whatever photos of Hazel that she wanted. Grace wasn’t 100% sold on this, but she knew how her mom was and after all of her help, felt a ping of obligation for this ONE thing... Mrs. Monroe would NOT be involved in her parenting decisions and she clarified that each chance that she could over those months of work.

The maternity photos were similar to how a pregnant woman might pose, cradling her own womb, but each one of that type was her embracing Hazel to herself, then there were simply several gorgeous shots of them together and some with Hazel’s “GlamMother.” The woman and Hazel had settled on it when the former refused to accept anything with the preface of “Grand,” and Hazel didn’t like the options such as “Matriarch” or “Forerunner.” Those sounded too formal to Hazel like, “The villain in one of those movies where society has to like pay for air and the hero has to topple the evil queen hoarding it to enslave mankind. Oooh, or... like something you’d call the Highest Queen in the Book of Esmoroth!” Grace cringed at the semi familiar word, but wasn’t positive why at that moment and didn’t take note of it either.

For now, Grace reminded her mom, “It’s meant to be an honor, not an insult, like a Grand Chancellor, or in your case, The Grand High Witch,” she joked and smiled cheerfully, very pleased with herself for it. 

Her mother narrowed her eyes. Grace loved her new ability not to shiver at the woman’s little glares and her mother seemed far more fond of a Grace that didn’t cower before her (as long as she cooperated). “Cheeky little...” she’d mumble with the slightest hint of a grin. It wasn’t the healthiest arrangement, necessarily, but considering their past, it was healthier than Grace thought that they would ever get, and she couldn’t help but feel like Hazel’s presence and the process of getting her there helped to make she and her mom closer... or whatever this was that they were now.

The next generation of House Monroe, Hazel Doe Monroe... Hazel had wanted to keep Doe as her middle name. “You know, you don’t have to change your last name if it’s something that you’d like to hold on to, Hazel.”

“I know. You’re very nice about our rules. I just like it because I have beautiful doe eyes and it seems fitting to keep. I’m DEFINITELY a Monroe. Look at me there. I am serving Blue Ivy Carter vibes...” Grace smiled and squeezed her... daughter close. Daughter. That was so weird to her. She had considered Hazel a friend, a little sister type, surely, but somewhere along the way, she found that she couldn’t let that kid stay in the system, being bounced around, never knowing a real home or lasting love. So... now, she had a whole ass daughter. 

An heiress, her mother would remind them both. Grace had mixed emotions about that one. Anybody you selected could be an heiress, if you intended to pass something down. She couldn’t tell if her mother was excluding Hazel from the family by using that placeholder, or if she was simply so proud to be a “matriarch” that she was being overly fancy. Knowing her mom, it could very well be the latter. She would wait until Hazel seemed to feel something about it. Right now, all the kid had was excitement and culture shock. She had waited her entire life to be in a family and as far as she was concerned, her family was the greatest one in the world!

There were a few critics of Grace’s “Journey to Maternity,” claiming that it was such a publicity stunt and that she was exploiting this child and using this adoption “for clout.” She... didn’t even know how that was a feasible conclusion, but her only announcement on the matter was, “I have been trying to build a family with Hazel, specifically, for several years now. Hazel never had a mother and now she does. She didn’t get maternity photos and birth announcements. She didn’t get a lot of things that babies and kids get by her age, and I want to make sure that she gets everything that I can give her and more. Our relationship is just as valid as any in which birth was given, because we needed each other and now we have each other and I’m going to love MY DAUGHTER the way that any loving mother would. Peace and many blessings to everyone out there. Please, use the energy that you have to attack me as a new mom figuring out the best ways to show my child that she matters, to go love on your own families. Our world needs more of that and less of this. This space is sacred, as a dedication to my daughter.”

While she used to be stressed out about how she was perceived on her platform, she now had a better handle on when to pay attention, when to ignore, when to block, when to engage, and she trusted her team and regularly spoke with her therapist and workers for Hazel, as well, about navigating these things. After the initial announcement, she and Hazel decided as a family that they didn’t need to do anything else so big, but they would post whenever they wanted to, since before, there were so many limits. 

Mostly, they liked doing mother-daughter choreography and sometimes, Hazel posted funny things, because she was truly a hilarious girl, at 9, nearing 10. Grace spent all of her time invested in being what Hazel needed and Hazel, as much as she loved Grace and loved having a new mom took some major adjustment getting used to having one. Sometimes, she feared that it would end and Grace, like everyone else might give up on her and “give her back.” 

Sometimes, she was so petrified about it, she turned into her turtle persona without any particular prompt. Those were hard nights/days. Grace would have to collect her turtle and care for her and coax her back into comfort so that she could become Hazel again. The doctor discussed some potential medication options, but because Hazel was not a danger to herself or anyone else, Grace denounced that idea at this time. When Hazel was back, she would simply reinforce that she loved Hazel, but in the moments where it was too scary or hard for Hazel to feel like herself, she’d love her turtle, too. Little by little, it seemed to be at least comforting enough where Hazel could sleep most nights without night terrors, though sometimes whenever Grace would check in (as she did, she realized probably an unreasonable number of times), Hazel would be curled up as she slept - in her shell - they called it. So, she wasn’t sure if she was making the best decisions yet.

But, Grace felt remarkably capable... silently thanking Simon for putting her through some of the most volatile emotional spikes not even realizing the type of resolve he was building for her to be able to endure loving a child who was just too scared right now to believe it was possible...

.

Simon was able to complete his Master’s degree on time, with Amelia admitting that she didn’t believe at all that he purposefully harmed her, but that he made a critical error while mentally distracted. If he wanted to work on his NEXT degree, he would have to do a lot that he was uncertain that he could handle at the moment. He thought of trying to start his own business, but his reputation was not stellar, so he held back until he could get a better grip on his pitches. His nights were generally forcing himself to continue routines that felt empty now that Grace had seemingly forgiven him and moved on. 

His days were just as structured, with his only deviance being that he had numerous projects he was still working on at the tech company he worked at. He was one of the top employees and had been there a while, so they knew a little bit about his personal issues, but he was an asset to the company, so, so far, so good on not being canned over the past year’s scandals... not many people realized that he was affiliated with his job, thank goodness, or he was certain some of those rabid SJWs would have doxxed him by now. His book sales spiked, but his trilogy deal had fallen through after only the first book had been published, and nobody was yet picking up any of his other works, so he leaned hard into his technological engineering.

Whenever he was at his day job, working on some software edits, someone mentioned, “Aye, Si - your prototype is reproducing now?” To which, he glanced up from his computer screen in confusion and saw Grace on his associate’s. They called Grace his prototype, because he’d often use an avatar or model or figure of someone closely resembling her and he got irritated whenever they would call his prototypes, his “ex.” Somehow, it didn’t bother him as much for them to call Grace his prototype. It bothered him, but not as much as the suggestion that everything he created was an effigy to her... whether or not that was the case (or whether or not it was unintentional/reflexive half of the time). “She’s got a kid now. Showed up in my entertainment news.”

Simon got up and came over, read Grace’s statement, scrolled through these photos of her and this beautiful kid that... looked honestly like she could be theirs, now that he was seeing her entire face clearly. He took a deep breath, with furrowed eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders, “So, they gave her the kid, finally. Good for her,” he said and returned to his desk, shaking and turning red. His coworkers all stared at him, expecting more. He sent a very quick email to his therapist and tried to ignore the wandering eyes. He also tried not to give them what he knew that they wanted to see... him lose his shit over Grace in real time. He couldn’t let this take over his professional life as well. It had cost him enough last semester and made him have to put his academic goals on hold.

Eventually, though, he had to cut the day short. Fortunately, his therapist could squeeze him in. He signed out of everything, images of Grace on his desk that he now hid away, for when he would next need them/could stand them (it was up and down for him, so he just kept them near now) and put them away at times like right now. Times whenever, for no reason whatsoever, seeing her upset him again. As he got onto the elevator, he heard one of them say, “I’m telling you, he’s gonna snap.” Sounded like they were making whispered bets on the matter.

.

His mind was filled with Hazel’s smile, the way Grace glowed with her in her arms, how they looked at each other with love and admiration, how EVEN Mama Monroe seemed enamored... while, he knew could just be one of her acts, but she genuinely seemed fond of her new family dynamic in those photos! “What is the point of me paying you when you are not fixing my brain?” Simon asked in frustration, glaring at his therapist, almost violently. 

“That’s not what we do here, Simon. You know that. Fixing your brain would be something that a neurologist does and you saw a neurologist a few months ago. What they suggested was for you to continue therapy.” The man was always alarmingly calm. He knew that Simon had violent outbursts in his record, but he also knew that Simon wanted to try to be pragmatic. Simon was a scientist. He wanted to handle things maturely and intelligently. His violent outbursts were generally a result of him feeling attacked. If the therapist kept things level and sensible, he didn’t expect more than a few bouts of yelling and flailing arms from Simon, on a good day.

“I know that therapy is supposed to help me to feel the way that I’m supposed to feel about Grace again, and it absolutely is not doing that for me!” He was huffing. The therapist remained calm. Simon noted that and tried to join him. He folded his arms, “I’m still thinking things about her that make no sense. Like today, I found out that she finally got approved to adopt that girl... And... it’s a really cute girl. She looks... like she could’ve been ours. She’s really precious and brown and beautiful with this long, thick head of blond hair. Proper blond hair, and they gave her an elvish hairstyle for the shoot... And my immediate thought was to wonder if Grace did this on purpose, to spite me? This blond kid that looks like us? The fantasy core hairdo? Is Grace manipulating me from across the country, on the Internet for every fan to see?” He scoffed. “Why? Why, would I think that?” 

“You tell me, Simon.”

“I DON’T KNOW!” Simon was red in the face and breathing too hard.

The therapist shifted slightly and redirected the conversation. “Okay, well, let’s think about it all, and talk through it. Maybe I can help you find out what your true feelings are, then we can unpack them together.” Simon hated that word. The sorting through baggage, taking a long hard look at things, figuring out where they went. He HATED it. “Why do you think Grace might want to use a child in order to spite you?”

“Wow, well, who’d have thought that two minutes ago when I said that I didn’t know, that you paraphrasing it would give me the solution?” Simon’s sarcastic question and animated baffled face were calms before a storm. The storm had to be appeased.

“I’m asking you to think about why Grace would ever do that to a child, instead of wondering why she would be manipulating you? She would be using that child, of your thoughts are right, and maybe thinking through why she would do such a thing could help you get closer to why you rationalized this accusation against her. Do you feel like she’s trying to fill a hole she believes you caused and replacing the child you could have had together?” Simon froze for a moment to consider this, then scoffed, rolled his eyes and shook his head. That wasn’t it. ”You said the child looks like she could be yours. Maybe Grace was drawn to her for that reason. Maybe it had nothing to do with spite at all and everything to do with love or even simply familiarity. Grace may have chosen a child that reminded her of her first friend, her first love. Maybe... the child doesn’t even actually look like she could be yours, but you’re projecting yourself into Grace’s family because you miss being a part of it..”

“No!” Simon fussed and pulled out his phone to pull up the image of Hazel. He showed it to the doctor.

“Well, you were right about a couple of things. She is a very beautiful child and she is blond. Besides that, Simon, I don’t see any resemblance, and lots of people are blond, some of them are even... Black or Biracial... I’m not sure of this child’s exact makeup, but she’s blond. Why did that upset you so much, if it’s not because you were thinking about maybe what you and Grace missed out on when she gave up the child you might have had.”

“Stop right there. Yes, I think about what might have become of that. Grace once did this dedication thing that was like mapping out when she might have been due and how old they might have been, and stuff. She was going through her own things and I found it interesting, but I know a little about biology. The time that she went in... she was about 2 to 3 months... that’s not a baby. That’s not a kid. That’s something an inch long or maybe a small bit bigger. A collective of tissue...” He shook his head. “I’m not lamenting over a quarter sized bundle of genes!” He shuffled his legs around. “I mean... She said that she would’ve called them Ivory. That’s a pretty name, I think. It’s unisex and elegant... Then she had all this ivory themed jewelry and color scheme for her kid’s coronation or whatever the fuck. It did sort of feel insulting, but I think she just fucking likes ivory, I don’t know! She was gonna name a kid that. She just likes it.” He frowned and looked towards the window.

“Did you feel like she thought about that whenever she made the party for her new child?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t been cool in so long, I don’t know her like I used to. I used to know her like... she was an art form that I was the master of, a science that I was most prolific in. I... don’t even know if she hasn’t become a completely different person. One thing that’s obvious. She still craves love and adoration and she’ll have it to her heart’s content now that she has a kid. That girl is going to give her all the praise and worship she’s been craving since we were kids. All that I couldn’t give her... I don’t even know why work so hard to be better...” He sighed.

“Simon, if you’re only working on yourself in order to impress Grace, then that could be the reason that you aren’t feeling any results. Grace can’t be the compass for which you try to find your life’s direction.”

“But something has to motivate me. I don’t care about much else. Not like it matters at this point, now.”

“Why? Because Grace has a child now?”

“She has everything that she needs from someone else. That kid beat me to it. I didn’t get better quick enough... I just...”

“Simon, I think we’ve finally arrived at today’s problem. Do you see it?” Simon frowned harder, tightening his mouth shut.”Would you like for me to tell you what it seems like to me?” Simon furrowed his eyebrows deeper. “I’ll go, and if I’m wrong, I know you’ll chime in, as you do enjoy proving others wrong...” Simon smirked a little. “It isn’t that you feel like Grace has replaced an unborn, never fully formed child that the two of you might have had. You feel as though Grace has replaced you.” Simon’s breath sped up and he blew out of puckered lips with puffed cheeks. “Simon. Surely, you must realize that your relationship with Grace is not the same as what her relationship with her child is.”

“Of course!” He stood up and leaned forward on the desk, “But, I’m sure YOU know that my relationship with Grace was never reasonable and that’s why I’m here!”

“Simon, please sit down.” 

Simon paced, instead, complaining. “I don’t have relationships with people. I cling to people, then they leave me. I clung to Grace for so long and I didn’t give her the chance to leave. I was scared, like a little boy being given a responsibility way too great. I messed up! I can’t FIX it! I’m supposed to be able to fix anything! I fix the bugs in multi million dollar making computer systems. I fix equipment that helps to save thousands of lives! I fix software, and robotics, and 90% of my coworkers’ interpersonal issues by being practical and telling them to dump people, but I can’t fix this! I can’t fix ME. I’m the problem!!!” He slammed his fist on the desk. “All I had to do was trust her. We might still be together. She might not have ever been in that place to meet this girl whose stolen her heart.”

“Simon, please consider the way you’re speaking about an innocent child who was in need of a home.”

“Yeah. It’s fucked up, just like the rest of me.” Simon covered his mouth and nose with his cupped hands. sighed and suddenly stopped moving anxiously. “You know what? I’m not at MIT at the moment. I don’t have any reason to keep this up.” This was indicated by him waving both hands back and forth between himself and the therapist.

“To get better, Simon. We’ve made several breakthroughs together. All of the things that you were holding inside... Those aren’t resolved overnight. Remember whenever we discussed your first sexual experience?” Simon sat down, his face wanting to believe Dr. Richard could do something about his growing despair. “You found out that you did feel something for Grace, but you blocked it out, denied yourself, made the act a challenge in which you won if you could separate yourself from your feelings... That’s your MO, Simon. You fear feelings that you think won’t be reciprocated and you punish those who didn’t reciprocate them before they have a chance not to.”

“But, I only did it to Grace...” Simon said. “My mom didn’t reciprocate and I moved on. My dad didn’t. I moved on. Grace... did... and I punished her anyway, for the CHANCE that she might not. And I did it to everyone I’ve met since, even though I don’t even let them get close to me, because I can;t even stand the thought of somebody getting that close to me again... The thought of the loss, when they finally see me and realize that I’m... This. Just... Tell me what to do to fix that in myself?”

“We’re doing it, Simon. It will take time. You made a difficult to breach barrier on purpose and it’s even hard for you to let it down. Until you’re ready to try, it will take us chipping away at it with these sessions.”

“I don’t want to do that, Dr. Richard. Thank you for your time.”

“Do you remember when you decided to see me again? Our first session went poorly. You at some point referred to it as an interview. You thought that I asked you questions and you gave the answers that made you look the best.”

“I decided to see you again because I thought I was going to be going to prison or be kicked out of my very prestigious college. But, I looked at the face of a little girl today and I felt my future die in her smile...”

“How do you know that a better you can’t mean better for Grace AND this girl?”

“I was with Grace for years and I ruined her, if you think I’m gonna go anywhere near her kid, near any kid, you’re the one that needs a doctor.” Simon got up. “Time’s up. Thank you for seeing me today. Wish me luck.”

“Simon. Please don’t miss your scheduled appointment.”

“Cancel it. Cancel them all.”

“Simon.”

“I won’t need them. I’m... I’m the best I’m going to get. I see that now, but I appreciate what you were trying to do for me.” He left the office, glanced at MIT’s campus as he headed for his apartment. His cell phone buzzed and he looked at it. It was from work. A list of things for tomorrow, when he got back in... He threw the phone into a trash bin without even so much as trying to aim. He fought the urge to turn to grab it. You’ve worked really hard Simon. You can be better. She told you to get help. To be better... Yeah... But, not for her. She doesn’t need you. Nobody does. They never did. You did it for yourself. You made something of the mess that they gave you. You can still change... 

“Maybe. But, probably not for the better.” Face it... My peak was when I was an absolute piece of garbage. My best is to be horrible. What kind of an existence is that? No saviors. No Grace. Just me, being violent and sinister? I’m the Void. I would only take everything from them. I need to be voided out...

.

Grace had not anticipated how being the 24/7 guardian of this child was going to be so drastically different than before. She tried to mentally prepare for that obvious reality, but nothing really prepared you for some of this stuff. It was challenging, to say the least. Grace’s life was in New York. It felt unkind to uproot Hazel and just bring her there, but she knew that it would be much more difficult to try to start rebuilding an entire life in California to keep Hazel in familiar settings. 

Hazel hadn’t had a home-home, but San Francisco was as home as she had, and wasn’t far from where Grace grew up. Still… Grace had been in New York for years for school, fell in love with the place, had friends and work and hobbies there. Hazel could fall in love with it too and if she couldn’t, then they could revisit that topic. But, they were going to begin by settling in New York. 

“We’ll at least visit GlamMother and Grandest Father, right?” Hazel wondered.

“Did… Did my dad tell you to call him that? Because I’ve got to draw the line…”

“No, it just sounded best with GlamMother. I like them. They speak really fancy and have a lot of nice stuff. I feel bad that we buried them in the bush that time.” Grace laughed and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close as they headed home. She didn’t want to visit TOO much, but her parents were willing to foot the bill to see their granddaughter. 

Grace was a little bit scared of them being around her too much. She worried that if Hazel felt scared or nervous and reverted to “the turtle,” her parents would handle it in an unsavory way… and then she would be forced to wreck them. It was just easier to try to stay away when she could. But, she had to stay at least until Hazel’s last day of school, as to not mess up her transition. So, Hazel’s birthday was spent in Cali and whenever the school year ended, they were going to be in New York.

Things happened. Firstly, the weeks leading to the summer vacation, Simon had not been seen or heard from. Grace didn’t realize this at all (as she hadn’t been checking for him for months) and was focused on going back and forth during the process of adopting Hazel, staying in a Monroe property to finish the school year and trying to adjust to a life of single motherhood… she just… did not have the time or concern to check up on anything Simon related. So the fact that his workplace didn’t know where he was and tried to contact his family, since it was so not like him to not show up at all - that was backstory she got.

Secondly, Simon “resurfaced.” No, not in her life, not at all. But, he was on the internet a lot more. There had been several sightings of him and none of them were good. He would either be in an altercation with someone or a full on fight. Most of these sightings he appeared to be baiting people into fighting him. There began to be chatter that he’d spent a little time in jail! She only caught wind of that after the third, and most severe thing took place...

Thirdly, Simon had been reported missing for weeks whenever several of the media outlets began running a clip of a person that many believed was Simon - Grace had been tagged to it multiple times, but hadn’t clicked on it, as it tended to have some type of generic title like, “Is that you, Simon Laurent?” or something that she didn’t have time for. The people jumping into her comments while she tried new dairy free froyo to ask her what about Simon’s spiraling was enough Simon content for her at the moment.

What she did have time for?: “Simon Laurent left for dead after brawl…” 

She gasped and clicked on the video. It was definitely Simon. She knew his mannerisms. She knew his fight style. That was most definitely Simon kicking someone in the face right before someone else - a friend or something of the person hit him in the back and ribs with a board and he fell. She covered her mouth and through teary eyes saw him falling and being repeatedly hit, up until what very much looked like one of the fighters was stabbing him… Grace let out a scream, without realizing it. She began to try to search for more information, but the only thing that she could seem to find was that nobody knew his family or where he was or if he had been helped…

“Grace?” She heard Hazel call from the doorway. She looked up and the girl was worried, “You’re crying really loud…” Grace shook her head, unable to form words as she continued to search, until she FINALLY found a story that appeared to be paparazzi capturing photos of Simon being rushed into a Massachusetts ER and old faithfuls of the Apex casting a net for blood donations. She saw Hazel freeze and sit on the floor. God, not now… Hazel was a turtle. Grace had frightened her. 

She tried to collect her without hyperventilating as she called information. If the Laurents were anything like her parents, that man still had the same phone number. If he was still anything like he used to be, he never got onto the internet and might not know where Simon was or what condition he was in.

Grace had Hazel in her lap, cradling her and rocking her to try to lull her out of her habit. “Mr. Laurent? Simon’s Dad?”

There was a long pause and then he said, “Yes, this is he… Have you found my son?”

“I know where he is. I saw on the Internet that he’s been seriously hurt and is in need of blood, but I don’t know how accurate that part is. I remember him saying that you two had the same type, some years ago. Even if not… Somebody should be there, I think… Do you have a way to get to Massachusetts?”

“No,” he said with a sniffle. 

“That’s okay. I can get to him quicker, because I’m in New York, and I can even take you to him, but… I have to tell you… This is Grace Monroe.” 

“You…”

“Mr. Laurent, right now, Simon needs either medical and divine intervention or potentially next of kin. I have a daughter and I can’t endanger her. Can we truce or whatever?”

“Yes. My son is all I have left.” She wasn’t going to argue with him. “I live in the same house if you remember where.”

“I remember. I’m going to send for you. I’ll have a car grab you and get you on a plane. My daughter and I will rush there now and meet you at the hospital, okay?” She groaned to get Hazel up and put her in the car. “We’re going to go on a trip, Hazel, okay? Whenever you come back out of your shell, I’ll be right here. I’m sorry that I scared you. I saw something really scary…”

“Is that man gonna be okay? The one that used to be your friend?” Hazel asked. Grace let out a sigh of relief that she had come out of it sooner rather than later.

“I don’t know, but if not, I think his dad should be with him. It’s a kinda long flight for him, so I don’t know if he’ll be okay. But, I’m going to go... just so that if something happens, he’s not alone. It’s scary when stuff happens and you’re all alone.”

“That’s sad. His dad shouldn’t have to see him be hurt.”

“No... but, that’s where he would want to be, near him, in case he can give him some comfort. Some help...” She told Simon that she couldn’t be the one to save him, and she meant that, but this was different. If something happened to Simon... and he was all alone... she just didn’t know how she would handle that in the future.

Next

[mychemicalficrecs]

anything with a similar to magic!verse? thank you so much for this blog

You're welcome, nonnie!

I haven’t read this fic, but based on tags and summaries I hope this comes close?

Modern Days Fantasy and Magic

MagicVerse by jovialien, Frank/Gerard, 256k, mostly Teen And Up Audiences. The Way brothers, and Ray, and Bob, are special but they don't really notice it that much; it's just their lives. Frank Iero is not special. At all. He's different, yes, he knows that. Everyone at his old school knows that. Everyone in his old town knows that. Every fucking jock and wise guy who was after a bit of a distraction or punching bag knows he is different and tried to punish him for it. But at least it was enough to get him out of that dump and into a new town, a new school, and maybe a new start. But when he meets Gerard Way, he starts to learn that different isn't always a bad thing - and special is a term that covers an awful lot.

More Than You Could Ever Know by mokuyoubi, Frank/Gerard and a few others, 58k, Explicit. Frank's been saying he's saving himself for Gerard Way for years, and discovering that his new house/bandmate is actually friends with Gerard should make things easier. But it's bad enough that Gerard remembers Frank as that one freakish, stalkery fan that followed them from venue to venue, not to mention the fact that it's hard to make any progress when everything that comes out of Frank's mouth makes him sound like a giant asshole. Oh, and how Frank's trying to keep his stupid elf magic from outing himself and Brendon to a national audience. Featuring Panic! as a fivepiece, My Chemical Romance (where Bob's still around) +Matt.

burned, about to burn, or still on fire by inlovewithnight, Gabe/Mikey, Gabe/Pete, Mikey/Pete and more, 25k, Mature. Sex, drugs, rock & roll, psychic abilities, and a few shapeshifting dragons. (Or: Gabe is a dragon, Pete is his treasure, and Mikey is a pyrokinetic who lights his fire. From New Jersey pop-punk to rehab and starting over, they orbit each other.)

Mythical Affairs by vampirexchild, Frank/Gerard, 55k, Explicit. Frank Iero has always had the strange ability of being able to sew up his own wounds without stitches, heal a broken animal with a single touch. Once he is introduced to the brother of his best friend, he may finally discover that he isn't the only human to posses an incredible power.

Give Me A Reason To Believe (Failboats In Love) by Acadjonne, Frank/Mikey, 14k, Teen And Up Audiences. On the night of October 31st, Linda and Frank Iero welcome a baby boy into their family. He weighs six pounds, four ounces, and is nineteen inches long. They give him a family name, and he becomes the third Iero man to bear the name of Frank. A year later, on All Hallow's Eve, a sleeping baby is taken from his crib and replaced with a fake. The babe will later be taken from the hands of the goblin that stole him, and he will be raised by two rowan treefolk, a house brownie, and some pixies. ----- When Ray walks down the stairs to the Way family basement, the last thing Mikey expects to see is a scrappy and long-haired form following behind him. But as he later finds out, Frank is almost always unexpected in the best of ways, the rest of the world be damned.

Saving Witches? Hunting things? The Family Curse? by Honestmouse, Frank/Gerard, 104k, Not Rated. Finally, life is getting good. After the hell they went through so soon after they met, they deserved this. This happiness. It's all going so well. They're both surprised by it honestly, but not willing to question it. Who cares if Gerard is still a little( kinda a lot) over protective of Frank. Who cares if they are so in love that after only a few short months they're moving in together. Frank is completely safe, he knows this. If only he could convince Gerard of that.

The Plant Shop by moss_and_rocks, Frank/Gerard, 16k [WIP], Teen And Up Audiences. Based in a universe in which Wicca is the most dominant religion. Frank Iero is a chubby ray of sunshine who owns a plant shop. Gerard Way is an artist/barista who wants to buy a plant. Flirting and very unique dating rituals ensue.

My Boyfriend's a Vampire by dangsu, Frank/Gerard, 19k, Mature. Frank Iero is intrigued by the raven-haired boy that smiles with his lips but frowns with his eyes. ~ Or how Frank Iero scores a vampire boyfriend.

Frank Iero & the Elementali by xcrossxoutxstarsx, Frank/Gerard, 29k [WIP], Explicit. All Frank wanted was to live his life. Not necessarily a normal life, because he wanted to be a musician, the kind of musician who has a band and goes on tour all over the world, plays his music in front of thousands of people and maybe, just maybe, finds someone to share his life with until the day he dies. But of course, that’s exactly what didn’t happen. Apparently, the universe decided that was either too much to ask or too lame of a goal for him to accomplish, because somehow he ended up being miles and miles underneath New Jersey, trying to understand what the hell is wrong with him and what the fuck did he do to deserve all that’s happened since Gerard Way appeared in his life. Don’t take me wrong, I love the guy. But God, I wish he hadn’t come into the shop that day. Maybe things would be a little bit normal still.

Hocus Pocus AU by orphan_account, Frank/Gerard, 19k, Teen And Up Audiences. Hocus Pocus AU. Frank's new in town, and his new best friends think it'd be awesome to check out the old Way Cottage on Halloween. Frank thinks it'll be the best birthday ever. What he gets is two eighteenth century witches and a lot of strange situations.

Stairway to Heaven by fleurdeliser, tuesdaysgone, Grant/Gerard, Frank/Gerard, Frank/Grant/Gerard, 58k, Explicit. Father Way accidentally taps into the memories of an angel, and stumbles into the middle of a millennia-long doomed romance.

If You Go Down To the Woods Today... by SaskiaK, Frank/Gerard, 25k, Mature. The guys are sure of a big surprise when they discover the secrets of a cursed forest, the setting of their new video shoot

Me and My Shadow by SaskiaK, 15k, Teen And Up Audiences. Frankie is a trainee fairy godfather. Gerard is a struggling artist with low self-esteem who happens to be Frankie's first client. Frankie really only wants to help but when Gerard is accidentally separated from his shadow, he can only watch as it enjoys the life he always wanted. When he finally realises his shadow is taking over, will he be able to regain control over it and his life?

Kiss The Bottle by cellphonecharm_au, Frank/Gerard, 36k, Explicit. A drunk wizard slips Frank a love potion while the band is in between tour dates. Chaos and mischief ensues.

By Fate Alone by DrGraves, Gen, 37k [WIP], Teen And Up Audiences. ...ultimately, there was no answer until whatever was going to happen, did. The future was still an uncertain wasteland, and they were peering through time with a lens the size of a pinhole. Even though his brother has the uncanny ability to see forward in time, Mikey Way's future is still uncertain. After Gerard has a vision of Mikey's untimely death, the race is on to save Mikey from his fate. Fate, it seems, has her work cut out for her.

Inked by pyrchance, Frank/Gerard, 28k, Teen And Up Audiences. Frank has always wanted a tattoo. He's pretty sure seducing the witch lurking behind the band room is the only way to get one.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Hidden Confessions

Summary: you had once written a letter confessing your desire to be more than just friends with Jackson Wang. However, you never gave it to him. You never planned on him ever seeing it since you believed it was only a one-sided crush all these years on still. Perhaps though, you were wrong.  

Pairing: Jackson Wang x reader

Genre: friends to lovers au 

Warnings: none

A/N: thank you for the request, @itsallabigmess! I had so much fun writing this for you… Jackson isn’t a member of GOT7 I’ve really explored much about, but whenever I do, it is so much fun! I hope you enjoyed this story. And no, this wasn’t inspired by the movie, To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before, despite having some minor similarities in the beginning that I didn’t realise I had written, haha.

Word count: 3221

You stopped when you found the small box at the back of your wardrobe, smiling softly as you pulled it out. It held all your special trinkets from over the years and although you were clearing out your room in preparation to move away to university, you stopped to sit down on your bed, thumbing through the concert stubs, wristbands from events, and some awards you had received. You continued to travel through memory lane until you reached the letter that you knew resided at the bottom. Opening it up, you were transported back three years ago when you had avidly penned the love confession to your closest friend, Jackson. You had poured your heart out into this letter, writing down from when you had first met him as young children, to your first kiss you shared in a truth or dare game with friends, and then finally about how over the previous year you had started having feelings towards him. At fifteen, you had been pretty in touch with your emotions and it showed in the words you had written down.

“And so I wondered if could ever be a chance that you would see me as more than a friend as well? I hope you will one day. Love, Me,” you read out the last line before collapsing back on your bed and giggling. You couldn’t help but adore this letter, even though you never gave it to Jackson. The reason why soon made you sigh heavily, knowing you had precariously carried this note around in your school bag for three weeks until you had enough courage to give it to him.

And then he told you over lunch that he was seeing Stacy from cheer club. It had crushed you completely and you had more than once attempted to destroy the letter. But you couldn’t. The emotions were too honest and you admired your past self for being brave to write them down. Placing it back on top of your belongings in the box, you picked it up and placed it back into the wardrobe.

You couldn’t let everything from your life so far be cleared away just yet. Closing the door to your almost empty wardrobe, you turned to pack up the things you needed to take with you into the next chapter in your life.

Of course, even though you had written him a letter that you failed to give him, Jackson was still your secret crush. You hadn’t been able to stop loving him over the years, and there had been instances where you had hoped to have another chance to confess. When he broke up with Stacy, you were ecstatic. Until Laura came along from Class President elections, not only beating him in the race but capturing him in a whirlwind of a love affair along the way. There wasn’t a rhyme or reason to who Jackson liked; he genuinely didn’t have a preference.

Except, just not you.

Maybe you had been too good of a friend for him to risk it with. At least, that’s what you liked to tell yourself whenever you saw him on campus laughing with the girls that followed him around. As an athlete and musician, Jackson attracted a lot of attention. Despite still being down to earth most of the time, you knew he liked it. You weren’t so fond of the limelight, but he thrived in it and you could happily watch him from the sidelines.

Jackson didn’t really like that though, often dragging you into everything he did. Even if your lifestyles and degrees were polar opposites. It was always you who he spent the most time with too.

“Hey Princess, how’s today been?”

You rolled your eyes as he sat down in the spare chair next to you in a library study room. “Will you ever drop that horrid nickname? We’re not eight anymore. I’m definitely not up in your treehouse calling out to be rescued by a knight from the bad dragon below either.”

“You do look like you could do with being rescued from all these books,” Jackson mentioned with a light-hearted chuckle, scrunching his nose up at the textbooks surrounding you. “Let’s go get lunch.”

“Can’t, some of us have to study for mid-terms unlike you.”

“I’m offended Princess, you never turn down hanging out with me. Besides…” He slung his arm around your shoulders and leaned in close. “I did save you from the big bad dragon. Can’t you come and make sure your knight is well fed?”

“Honestly,” you said dryly though inwardly your heart was racing and you couldn’t help the smile that crossed your lips.

He didn’t ever choose you, but you knew you would him every time.

Just because you loved Jackson, didn’t make you ignore social norms either. You actually tried to find someone better to be your knight as Jackson always liked to refer to himself as. You were no damsel in distress and by your second year in your degree, you had actually dated a couple of times. It was important to you to experience all you could, both education wise and socially too. You knew you’d never get these years back and spending them only buried in a book would be wasteful.

The men you dated were generally quiet like yourself, with sensible goals ahead and not nearly as ambitious as Jackson was. You liked the change but even you had to admit it didn’t really excite you. So, when you caught the attention of one of Jackson’s teammates, Adam, you were kind of surprised. You didn’t normally attract men like him, but you agreed to go on the date all the same, feeling empowered as you got ready.

“Is it true?” Jackson asked as he stepped into your room of the apartment you shared with him, folding his arms across his chest as you put on your makeup. You looked at him through the mirrored reflection and nodded. “You and Adam, really? You know you can’t trust an athlete right?”

“Duly noted. I can’t trust you to put out the trash like I asked you to, so you’re right. Still, I’m going.”

“And you’re wearing that?” he continued, stepping over to you and looking you up and down, scrutinising your dress choice. You smiled to yourself and went back to applying your makeup. “Don’t look so good. If you look this amazing on the first date, he’ll expect too much from you.”

“Thank you for saying I look amazing.”

“Yeah, well…” Jackson rubbed at his neck awkwardly, avoiding your gaze when a slight blush rose on his cheeks. “You don’t normally go to so much effort. Which, you really shouldn’t. It’s only going to excite him more.”

“And what’s so wrong about that, we’re both grown adults, Jackson.”

“Right.” He looked away and you stood up, a small part of you wishing it was him taking you out to dinner tonight. You placed your hands on his shoulders and Jackson visibly flinched, blinking at how close you were. You stretched up to peck his cheek before going to grab your bag.

“Don’t wait up for me.”

“As if.”

“And,” you started, smiling a little more genuinely. “Maybe I need someone like him. I’m pretty awesome, you know.”

“You’re more than awesome and that’s why I don’t want you to go.”

It took you a few dates to figure out why Jackson had been so adamant about Adam, and discovering that he had three other girls from different departments he was stringing along kind of stung. Jackson had found you on the sofa later that night after the revelation, his expression softening at seeing you eating a tub of ice-cream and watching The Notebook alone. He knew that was your go-to movie whenever you wanted to sob like a baby over true love.

“You know, they should have gotten really sick after all that confessing out in the rain,” he mentioned gently as he sat down, taking the tub out of your hand and placing it down on the coffee table. Jackson then pulled you into his arms, stroking your back. “You okay?”

“Maybe I thought I was too amazing after all.”

“You are amazing. You’re the most amazing person I know.”

“You have to say that, I’m your best friend,” you chided and Jackson clucked his tongue disapprovingly at you immediately. You smiled and glanced up at him. “It’s true, you have to like me, I’m the longest friend you’ve had.”

“But I’m honest too; you wouldn’t be my friend if I didn’t love you, Y/N.”

It hurt to hear him say that, considering how deep down you harboured a love for him that was not made entirely out of your friendship. Sure, you loved him as a friend, but there was so much more to that love too. It made you sigh heavily, more humiliated by the fact that you kept trying to find the connection like the characters on the screen had when you knew you couldn’t commit to it without letting go of Jackson first.

“If I lose my memory, you better write me a book about our life story,” Jackson mentioned a moment later and you laughed. He sat up and frowned. “I’m not joking. You have to make sure I remember you every day. Forgetting you would be the worst thing to happen to me.”

Some days, you wished you could forget Jackson, just so you could move on from loving him so much.

Graduation loomed and you both had found jobs to move into after your student years were over. It seemed fitting that you were both travelling back to your hometown for a high school reunion before the school was closed down from the premises it had been on since it first opened. Wrapping up from the old times, along with your current student life would leave nothing but the fresh opportunity of your careers ahead.

You were rather excited to go back and see the building where you had discovered so many things – your love for literature, painting, and had fallen in love with your best friend.

“Hopefully Mark won’t be here,” Jackson muttered and you glanced at him as he pulled the car into the parking lot, driving slowly down the aisle to find an empty space. “He knows too much.”

“He’s probably forgotten all about whatever it is,” you encouraged, though you couldn’t help but be intrigued either. “And if he hasn’t, I know who I want to talk to first.”

“Don’t you dare!” he cried immaturely, parking the car and shooting you a disgruntled look. “I have plenty I could dish out to all our friends about Y/N the college student too, you know.”

Just remembering the freshman orientation week made you shudder and zip your mouth firmly shut.

“Oh my god, its Jackson Wang and Y/N!” someone cried as you entered the hall and you smiled warmly as you saw Mimi Chambers approach you both excitedly. The night wore on in a similar fashion, meeting with old friends, hearing how their lives were turning out and sadly, not hearing what juicy gossip Mark Tuan had on Jackson despite your endeavours.

“He hasn’t told you yet?” Mark asked, confused and glanced at his girlfriend Namra, who merely smiled back at him. “Didn’t you both come together?”

“Oh, well we room together in the city so it was easy to travel that way, but we’re not together together.”

Namra grinned. “But still together in a sense.”

The conversation only left you with more questions, which you tried to make sense of on the way back to your family home. Your parents were out visiting your relatives for the weekend and had asked you both to look after the house until they were back on Sunday. “And then Namra mentioned we had still come together. Isn’t that odd?”

“Mm, pretty odd,” Jackson said too easily, clearing his throat as he drove up to the garage of your house. “And this place never changes.”

You grinned, looking up at your family home and feeling a sense of belonging. Opening the door, you reached into the back for your overnight bag and then headed for the door. Of course, it wasn’t your first time coming home since starting school, but you always enjoyed the experience of walking through the front door like you had every day before. Your mother had left you a small care package on the kitchen countertop and Jackson dove for her homemade muffins.

“Ugh, so good,” he managed through his mouthful and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m going to take a shower, you cool to just chill until then?”

Jackson nodded, picking up the whole tray of muffins. “Your mother’s baking and I have some reacquainting to do.”

“Just please don’t be sick,” you murmured, shaking your head as you went upstairs to the bathroom. Just as you got out of your clothes, you remembered your bedroom’s heating source and groaned. Sticking your head out of the door you called out for Jackson. He appeared at the foot of the stairs, plate still in hand. “Can you go into my room and grab out the heater? It’s in my wardrobe. You know how icy my room can get since the heating doesn’t make it in there. I want to sleep in a toasty room tonight.”

“Sure thing.”

As you showered, you continued to think about Mark and Namra’s words. What had they meant about you being together? You and Jackson had literally been joined at the hip since you were six. You went to all the same schools and even with different degrees, you had both ended up at the same university. Besides, living together meant you literally had the most obvious reason to turn up together. But it still bothered you, and as you dried yourself and dressed in your pyjamas, you contemplated the word together in a different meaning. You tried to rein in your thoughts as you crossed the landing over to your bedroom, shaking your head softly as you imagined it in the way you had always wanted together to mean for you and Jackson.

“Oh, I uh…” Jackson startled, and you blinked out of your thoughts to find a very familiar box and its contents half sprawled across the bed, a specific letter within his grasp. You gasped, wishing simultaneously that you had destroyed the love confession years back and that the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

“How much did you read of it?” you asked quietly, unable to look at your best friend as your cheeks flamed with embarrassment. “It’s an old letter, don’t buy into it.”

“Really?” he asked quieter than usual and you could hear the disappointment in his tone. “You don’t feel like this anymore about me?”

“Well, I-”

“I had no idea you loved me like this, Y/N.”

“Considering I never gave you the letter, I didn’t expect you to know.” You turned away from him and sighed. “Like ever know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me or give this to me? You clearly had thought this out well,” Jackson said, getting up from his spot on your bed and approaching you. Despite not looking up, you could see the letter in his grasp and tried to reach for it. He moved it away. “Why didn’t you give me this?”

“Because on the day I was going to you told me you were dating Stacy from the cheer club.”

“So why didn’t you give it to me after we broke up?”

“I don’t know, maybe I felt like you’d reject it anyway. Does it matter? It’s a letter from years ago.”

“I wouldn’t have rejected you though,” he said simply and you finally glanced at your best friend, overwhelmed by the emotions on his face. He appeared vulnerable despite how strongly he stared back at you. “I would have been really relieved to have received this letter.”

“What?”

“I liked you as a teen too,” he admitted, chewing his lip a little. “Okay, so I liked you a lot. But you just seemed so perfect and you liked these guys in the books you obsessed over and not one of them was like me. I wasn’t the smartest guy in class or the best looking, and none of them was into sports like me and so I just thought I stood no chance.”

You stared at Jackson intently, deciphering if this was a parallel universe or real life.

“So I dated those girls because I hoped I would forget about you. But I broke it off with all of them since they weren’t as funny or as smart or beautiful as you are.”

“You liked me?”

“That’s why I was trying to keep you away from Mark. He told me if I didn’t tell you that I still love you during university that he would tell you himself because I was too gutless to admit it. I’m amazed he didn’t actually tell you tonight.”

“Wait,” you said, holding up your hand to collect your thoughts. “Liked or love, Jackson?”

“Hm?”

“You said you liked me a lot, and now you’re saying you love me. I want clarification.”

He seemed uneasy for a moment, before stepping closer to you and shaking the letter in his grip a little. “Is this true?”

“I asked you first.”

“I liked you before university and now I love you.” He took a shaky breath before continuing. “Now it’s your turn. Is this letter outdated?”

You stared at your best friend before you smiled, reaching up to press your lips against his. Jackson grabbed you to balance you both, your own arms winding around his neck as the kiss deepened. You both moved across the room blindly, settling down on your bed before you finally separated, breathing heavily from the kiss.

“I guess that answers things,” Jackson mused and you grinned, nodding happily. “You really have loved me all this time?”

“And you didn’t friend-zone me like I always thought?”

Jackson chuckled and kissed the letter he somehow still held in his hand. You whined that it wasn’t on your lips instead. “I’m so glad I saw the box and had ample time to look through it tonight. I was always curious about what was in here.”

“You were?”

He nodded, leaning in close to you again. “But now I don’t have to worry. Because the Princess found her Knight again.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, still grinning away. “You and those nicknames.”

“I didn’t realise a letter would rescue us both from not confessing though,” he admitted with a frown and you laughed, crossing the space between you and kissing your best friend avidly again.

When you pulled away, you cupped Jackson’s face in your hands and smiled. “You did tell me you wanted me to write out our lives together in case you ever forgot me.”

“And will you?” he asked, pulling you into his arms.

“Of course. I’ll make sure the emotions that you read in that letter continue through every chapter we have ahead of us too.”

“Just as friends?” he teased and you shoved Jackson lightly before kissing him again.

“As the Princess who loves her Knight in shining armour.”

_________________

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[xocookiest]

Lesbian Asks!

Note: **I am not a lesbian, but some of these questions do pertain to me a lot. So, I’m answering all these questions because I think it might be something silly and fun to do while I’m self-quarantining. So, excuse the jokes I have made, bits of sarcasm, or if I go a little bit too dark or something for you all. And, if you guys have any questions or need any further clarification about some of the answers I have given. I’m going to be opening up my ask box for a couple of days to answer them, but you’re more than welcome to shoot me a private message. Just keep it respectful and civil, please and thank you. ** 

1) Femme or butch?

         a) Femme Fatale. The character archetype that has drawn in millions of men and women through literature, art, and now the media over the course of centuries because of her mysterious allure, charm, and wit. As it is a thrilling and intriguing experience because you just don’t quite know what the person might do next and it makes you keep guessing, but it also can be an extremely deep and rewarding relationship without words ever being spoken. Plus, I’ve always loved a good mystery to try and solve. And, one of them obviously being the consciousness of the human mind. 

2) Do you have a “type”? If so, describe it

          a) Hm…. I wouldn’t say I have a “type”, but I think I would like a person who would respect my boundaries, honor their commitments, be honest about their mistakes in life, acknowledge their faults, and be willing to change and grow to better themselves, have morals, values, and commitments that they can stick to because it would prove to me in some way that they are loyal. At least to something. However, that’s something difficult to serve up on a platter. So, let’s just say my “type” is a person who has flaws, but is a good-natured person and is trying their best to be the best version of themselves they can be.

3) Plaid button-ups or leather jackets?

         a) What if you own a bunch of plaid button-ups and leather jackets in your closet? What do I do with that? Wait. Is this a preference of style on a person? Uh…. I’m going to have to skip because I don’t really have one. Mostly, because a woman can look good in both and kick a guy’s ass while doing it. So…. yeah. No preference. 

4) Describe your style

        a) Jeans. Long-sleeve/T-Shirt. Jacket/Hoodie/Cape. Boots/Tennis Shoes. Minimal/ No Makeup. Occasional Dress, Shorts, Heels, and Sandals. Minimal Makeup/Full Makeup Routine (DO NOT HAVE at least currently). Those are the most common things you’ll find me wearing. But, here’s the kicker. Comfortability. I repeat. Comfortability. I can’t tell you how many times my heels have bled while wearing regular shoes or heels while walking on them or bruised the side of my toes or feet while wearing flats or sandals. Ugh. Fashion does not need to be painful people. You can look good and be comfortable in your own skin without being in pain. Plus, who wants to feel like your dress is falling off you between your legs while you’re at an event? Other than when you’re having sex or at least about to do so.

5) Describe your aesthetic

           a) Um, okay there is no cute way to describe this. I’m a nerd. I like playing video games late into the night, reading books, comics, or manga for hours that I forget the last time I ate, diving into a new anime, K-drama, or old cartoon that I stay up till the next morning watching, struggling to write and publish stories, and doing cosplays while meeting new and interesting people. But I also love watching documentaries about history, science, and art. I can’t stand to be inside too long because I feel claustrophobic and it reminds me of being trapped in a room with someone I don’t particularly like. So, I take hour long walks in my neighborhood, woods, forest, cities, and beaches while blasting really loud music that will probably damage my ears in the long run. So, don’t expect me to hear a single thing you’ve said when I have them on because it takes forever to get my attention since I have such a one-track mind. Plus, I’m terrible at cooking almost burnt down my friend’s house once with a microwave. Hence, why I prefer doing the prep work, dishes, and gardening. Though, don’t ask me to slaughter a live chicken. I can’t do it. 

6) Favorite article of clothing?

           a) A jacket. Did you expect anything else?

7) Favorite pair of shoes?

          a) Boots. Specifically, Steel-Toed Boots. So, if you ever drop anything heavy on yourself, it doesn’t hurt as much or if someone is really bothering you. It gives you an extra kick.

8) Current haircut?

         a) Long Hair w/ side bangs. I’m cutting it for the summer to be above my shoulders just because summers are just hot and long hair is just difficult to deal with when it is hot and sticky on your face.

9) Any haircut goals for the future?

        a) I’m hoping at some point I can get some red ombre at the ends of my hair because it adds a nice accent, but it’s not really necessary. I just really cut my hair shorter in the summer and let it grow the rest of the time. So, I’m not overtly cold in the winter/fall. 

10) Describe the best date you’ve been on

        a) I haven’t had one yet. So, really can’t tell you that one.

11) Describe the worst date you’ve been on

        a) Can’t really tell you one that’s been that bad. Since I think every date has its worse and best points in a date. But maybe there is one and I just haven’t realized it yet. Does a guy who leaves you on the curbside count? Seriously, though. What counts as a worst date for you guys?

12) Single? Taken?

          a) Single. Definitely, single. You can tell by how my friends get overly excited any time I’ve tried dating anyone or tried setting me up with someone they think would be a good match. Most of the time I think they’re giddier than I am about me going on a date with someone. My gosh. Actually, rewrite. I’m not giddy at all I’m just a bottle of nerves they just try to settle down before I actually go on the actual date. Lol.

13) If taken, talk about your girlfriend/wife!

         a) You know, I would love to do this because it just would make me smile to read it. But, unfortunately. I don’t have one to talk about. So, if any of you have a girlfriend or wife you want to talk about here. Please do it. I want to read your stories. 

14) If single, what are you looking for in a potential girlfriend/wife?

         a) Err…. I’m not actually looking for anything in particular, really. I just want them to be a nice and good person who I can spend hours talking and spending time with and want to spend time with. Is that too much of an ask to the great universe of the world? 

15) Describe your dream wedding

         a) My dream wedding is having a small wedding with family and friends that love and support me and my relationship with my partner. I don’t really have an idea of what I really want for it, but what’s important is celebrating your relationship with the person you love. Maybe, outside? But, then you have to think about the weather and what’d it be like. So, maybe I should do it indoors. I don’t know, alright. I thought a wedding would always be something that you and your partner would discuss and figure out together, I guess. 

16) Do you want kids?

        a) What if you already have one? What happens then? Though, as of this moment I do not. I love them, don’t get me wrong and I would really love to adopt a child who really does need a home, but I’m just not financially stable to do so currently or am staying in one place long enough that would make a stable life for one. Hence, no kids currently.

17) If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?

        a) Um, that’s a difficult question currently because my plan is to travel the world? So, is around the world a good answer because I’ve never actually felt at home anywhere and the last place, I really felt at home was in my hometown in California. But that isn’t really home anymore either. So…. yeah. I don’t really have a particular place I want to call home or live. Anybody have any ideas on that?

18) Favorite lesbian movie?

        a) I’ve only ever watched one lesbian film called, Jenny’s Wedding. Which hit a little too close to home at the time. So, I only could watch the film in bits. But if anyone has any recommendations, I’m open to them. Just shoot me a message.

19) Favorite lesbian novel/story?

          a) Okay, I love reading books. But this is the one thing lacking in my repertoire. Please recommend me something intriguing to read. I can’t stand the idiocy of human male and female relationship anymore currently. It is driving me nuts. So, I’m asking please let me go insane with other stories not dominated by male and female relationship. Otherwise, I would highly recommend you guys try reading Queen of Thieves. It’s a choice story written by several different writers for Lovestruck. So, you have several different partners that you can choose from. But, my god. The route for Vivienne Tang is just a gold mine and I’m salivating for the next season because it’s just so freaking good. If you’re reading this xekstrin. I love your work there and know that if you were to ever write a novel. I’m buying it. No questions asked. Oh, and tell your wife, “Hi!” for me too! =)

20) Favorite lesbian song?

         a) Okay, so this sounds terrible. But I don’t have one because I just like the sound of the music, sound, or lyrics and it changes frequently. Not to say, that I don’t have any lesbian songs in my playlist because I probably do. However, I did look up some songs? And, apparently 1950 by King Princess from my Spotify playlist is one of them. So…. I probably have more, and I just don’t realize that they are there because I have a tendency of fantasizing about scenarios based upon the song and lyrics anyhow. But if anyone has any recommendation for songs. I’m down to listen to any of them. 

21) Favorite lesbian musician?

          a) So, I’m terrible with names and I barely ever look up an artist or even what their sexual orientation is. So, I’m going to have to say I don’t have one because I honestly don’t even have a favorite musician and even if I did, I don’t think I’d even know if they were lesbian. But I probably do have some lesbian musicians in my Spotify playlist? I just don’t think anything of it because if you like the sound, music, and lyrics then you listen to more of their music. At least that’s how I think about it. But it is different for other people. So, that’s understandable. Everyone has different tastes and ways they enjoy music. However, if you know some artists with songs, you’d think I’d enjoy. Shoot me a message.

22) What lesbian stereotypes do you fit into, if any?

       a) What stereotypes? Can someone please educate me on this subject? Also, why? Other than, the reason it’s easier to identify the type of person because as much as I think it is utterly rude to do so I have to admit there is some truth to them. But not everything you hear about a particular stereotype is true. For example, not all goths are dark and brooding or wear black constantly. However, this might be a consistent part of their wardrobe because its comfortable or it’s their favorite color. So, sue them for wearing dark clothing and being interested in something they like. 

23) Ever been assumed to be nothing more than a gal pal?

       a) Oh god, yes. If you’ve ever met a girl who you’ve ever wanted to be more than friends with and they say, “You’re such a great friend.” That’s just your heart breaking into a million pieces, dude. Hope you have a dustpan and a lot of glue because that’s going to take a while to work through with all the tears and blood spilled over it. So…. yeah. 

24) If a woman wanted to woo you, what would a surefire way to accomplish that?

        a) Uh…. I have no idea. I guess you’d have to date me to figure that out. Lol.

25) Be positive! What do you like most about being a lesbian?

       a) I’m not one, but I can tell you what I admire about you guys. And, that’s your strength because you guys take on so much scrutiny and blame for things in media and even in your own communities and that takes a lot of strength to do. So, I’m proud of you guys for being so strong and supporting each other when things get tough. For those of you who are still in the closet, I hope one day you find a safe place where you can come out to your loved ones and be comfortable with who you are because finding that place is just as important as finding the person you want to spend forever with too.

26) Are you more of a cat person or a dog person?

      a) Totally, a dog person. Mostly, because my friends keep telling me I look like a kicked puppy every time they tell me we can’t do something. Like go to the nearest frozen yogurt shop after just eating out at a restaurant or doing something inappropriately dangerous. Though, I’ve been living with like three different cats for almost two to three years now on and off. So, maybe. I’m actually a cat person. 

27) Turn ons?

     a) Wit. You can’t honestly say you wouldn’t love a woman who could tease you with her extensive vocabulary and had you begging on your knees for more. Would you?

28) Turn offs?

     a) Arrogance. Look, if all you care about is yourself and how important you are to the world. Then, that’s great and good for you. But that really doesn’t leave a lot of room for you and I that doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed your space and time alone when you need it or even to celebrate your achievements, but also give your partner that same respect too.  

29)Do you usually ask other women out or do you wait for them to ask you?

      a) I actually try not to ask them out, but it always ends in failure. So…. yeah. I ask them out. 

30) What is your dream career?

      a) To be able to work as a traveling librarian while being an investigative reporter that writes novels and scripts for film and tv, but also can work on film and tv sets as part of their set or run crew when I’m not traveling or writing. That’s a dream. Really, it is my dream career. 

31) Talk about your interests or hobbies!

      a) I think I’ve spoken about them in length enough. So, I suppose I’ll just tell you what you can probably find me doing on a regular Friday night. Which is watching a show intently on my television or laptop and screaming at the screen or reading a book on the bed or couch with my ear plugs on while drinking sprite and hot cocoa with a blanket wrapped around me. 

32) What is the most attractive quality a woman can have?

      a) Again, I don’t know I think it really depends on the person you are with because the thing that you find initially attractive might not be same after you get to know them. Not to say, that it is a bad thing. But that love is sort of evolving and as your relationship grows with the person, you’re with the things you love about the person will change too. So, I think that the most attractive quality a woman can have is just being able to be genuine or be comfortable with themselves because if it feels forced. It’ll feel forced to the other person too. I guess. Am I making any sense here?

33) Do you love easily, or does it take time for you to warm up to someone?

      a) That’s a difficult question because sometimes it takes time for me to warm up to someone, I don’t really know all that well when I first meet them and other times, I’m really open about it. I think it really depends on the person, though. 

34) Ever fallen for your best-friend?

      a) Yes. My best friend in high school. She and I had been friends since 7th grade in middle school. We used to talk and hangout all the time after school using a messenger application and I hadn’t realized it until much later. But, by that point she was already with someone else and I didn’t really want to impose my feelings or strain the relationship. Though, I’m pretty sure her girlfriend at the time knew something was up because I don’t think she liked me very much. Though, understandable considering things. So, eventually the relationship sort of faded out as she started hanging out with my friends and I less and less as her and her girlfriend got closer.

35) Ever fallen for a straight girl?

    a) That’s a good question. I probably have and passed it off as me just being a caring friend. Which, with my sexual orientation becomes a little difficult to differentiate between sometimes, anyhow. Seriously, it is a freaking headache. 

36) The L-Word: yes or no? (love it or hate it?)

   a) Are you talking about the word lesbian or love because I don’t necessarily hate the word on either side of things it’s just…? Can we (people) really not think of a better word to describe it? I mean. I know it’s pretty hard to find a word that encompasses the meaning of something, but people make up words all the time. But I think for right now the word lesbian works and is fine. So, thoughts?

37) Favorite comfort food?

    a) Soup. There is literally no other food that makes me feel happier when I’m sick or upset. Especially, if it’s made by someone you love because it makes it all the more special. Though, don’t be surprised if I ask for seconds and then just skip to dessert instead.

38) Coffee or tea?

    a) Tea. I don’t drink coffee as much. It’s just too bitter for me, not that there aren’t teas that aren’t bitter, but I’ve always had to put so much sugar and milk into my coffee that it doesn’t make any sense to just waste the coffee. Hence, any time I get coffee it goes straight to my mom or one of my friends who practically runs on it. And, I just don’t do that as often when I’m drinking tea. Except, for Thai Tea. Which basically is like coffee for me.

39) Vegetarian? Vegan? None of the above?

    a) Neither. I’m willing to try vegan food, though. Just don’t expect me to be entirely excited about it. 

40) Do you have any pets?

    a) I have a cannibalistic goldfish. And, before you ask. Yes, she does eat other fish. I call her Cannibal, it used to be Christy. But, now it’s just Cannibal. 

41) Early-riser or night-owl?

    a) Night-Owl. I can’t seem to get up that early for some odd reason. Oh, well. I try to, though. Key word: Try.

42) What is your sign?

     a) Are you asking what my astrology sign is? If you are it’s a Cancer. I was born on the 6th of July. Apparently, I was supposed to be a 4th of July baby. Lol, that would have been an event. However, if you’re asking what year I was born then I’m going to have to say I was born in the Year of the Ox in the element of fire. You can probably figure out the rest from there I suppose. 

43) Can you drive?

      a) Yeah, I drive. I’ve only been driving for a couple of years, though. I am actually really terrified of driving on the road. It’s why it took so long for me to get my license and that I actually don’t particularly like driving. I’d actually prefer if I could walk, fly, bike, subway, train or bus somewhere, but most places in the United States don’t have much of a transportation system that is consistent or reliant enough to do so here. Unless, you live in a bustling city like New York. Hence, we have overpriced dangerous honking killing machines zipping through the roads. So, drive safely guys. 

44) Who was your first lesbian crush?

       a) My first lesbian crush? Hm…. a girl I met in college I guess? She was in the same major and courses I was but was a year behind me technically. She was a really intelligent and nice person, though I wasn’t able to actually hangout with her as much because I had other priorities at the time. The funny thing was I didn’t even know she was a lesbian until a friend of mine told me when the two of us went to trivia night at a bar that my friends and I frequented. Now, before you ask. How could you not know? And, my answer is I’m an oblivious child. Seriously, I have a bucket of stories that will tell you that along with my friends who have stood or sat right next to me and watched a girl or guy flirt with me and ask me out and I being a completely dense human being. Don’t catch it.

45) At what age did you know you were a lesbian?

      a) Hm…. when did I know I liked girls? Probably forever ago just didn’t want to admit to it because I was told so many times it wasn’t “right” to do so. But, I don’t think I really knew officially until I was in high school when my friends at lunch one time all spoke about some guy or girl they liked, and I didn’t really have anyone in particular I liked at all. Well, I did. Just didn’t tell her because I was in denial at the time that I wanted more than just a friendship. Which, is a situation I think a lot of people have been in before. 

46) At what age did you come out (if you have)?

      a) Came out to my close friends in college freshman year. But technically I told my grandmother way before that when I was in 4th/5th grade one time when I was really upset about a bunch of kids bullying me at school and just outrightly told her when she asked if I liked anyone and I said, “I don’t like anyone. Boys suck and I don’t even really like girls all that much either.” And, she laughed then said that’s okay. Just focus on doing what you like to do, and the rest will sort itself out. Plus, boys and girls can be really immature anyhow. (Apologies, to my little brother if you ever read this. But you have to admit you were a real brat to handle as a child. Love you, anyhow though.) Then, I unwillingly came out to my parents after graduating from college when I got wrapped up in some family drama. Woof, that was a horse. But it is over with now. Nothing, I can do about it now. 

47) Are you crushing on anyone at the moment (celebrity or otherwise)?

     a) Hahaha……. yeah. But she is currently unavailable and that’s okay. I’m not really in any rush to be in a relationship currently.

48) Talk about how your day went

     a) What do you talk about when you are stuck in quarantine? Do you tell the internet you spent the last three days trying to finish answering a Lesbian Ask! Questionnaire because you were really bored and was tired of staring at job applications all day? Because that’s what happened. 

49) Talk about your dreams/aspirations for the future

    a). I hope that one day I get to settle down somewhere and call it home. Have a loving partner, a kid, a dog, and two cats. And hopefully, it’ll be somewhere in New York or at least close to there because it seems like every single one of my friends plans on moving there at some point. Lol. 

50) Least favorite gay celebrity?

     a) Wow. Great question. No idea. Lol. Like I said. I don’t know much about celebrities and their sexual orientation because it shouldn’t matter what someone’s sexual orientation is. Since it shouldn’t change a person perspective about you because you’re still you. Nothing’s changed. Just the fact that your friends, family, and close relatives now know a little bit more about the type of person you like. Nothing else. And, if someone wants to give you crap about it. Let them be small, ignorant, and stuck in the past while you get to enjoy and see the world for what it is. A very dark scary dank place that screws over a lot of people sometimes, but overall, it’s a relatively nice, beautiful, and an ever evolving place that always seems to keep you on your toes. 

[freedom-shamrock]

Two are Better, But Three are Best - Chapter Four

Also on AO3

<<< Previous Chapter

There’s no on screen sex but the first scene clearly follows sexytimes. There’s also some talk of sexual history and past experiences.

⁂

Strategies and Best Laid Plans

The drag of Luka's fingertips over her skin spoke of love. The way he marveled over every part of her made the depth of his feelings clear. The breathy huskiness of his voice each time he spoke the words, "may I?" left her feeling treasured and safe. His insistence that she come first in all things only fueled her desire and affection for him.

Apparently it hadn't just been dirty-talk when he told her he wanted to narrow her awareness solely to him. Among her past lovers, none had ever approached sex with this mindset and goal, and she now had to admit, she was a fan.

As she lay with him, utterly relaxed, in hazy afterglow, she could only smile.

"C'mon Sweets," he murmured in her ear. "You need to use the bathroom before you fall asleep."

She let out an inarticulate grumble.

His soft chuckle gave her goosebumps. "You're beautiful like this, Nette." He brushed his nose against her ear and cheek. "I don't think I've ever seen you so relaxed."

"I'm not sure I've ever been this relaxed." Her eyes fluttered open, and she was struck with how pleased he looked. "You look like the cat who ate the canary."

His grin turned smug. "Ate something, that's fur sure."

She giggled and swatted lightly at his shoulder. "You naughty man." She ran her fingers down his bare arm, marveling at the smooth warmth. "God, you're sexy. You could give Adrien a run for his money on the modeling front."

Luka snorted. "No interest in that."

She felt the idea hit her, filling her with energy, and she grinned in delight. "But you'll model for me, right? You'll let me design you clothes for performances and events, right?"

His eyes went wide. "Me, in Dupain-Cheng originals? That'd be a dream come true."

⁂

She pushed their laden breakfast plates onto the counter that divided the living room from the kitchen. His tiny apartment was actually really well designed to make the most of the space. With a couple of stools, he could fit two people on either side of the counter, which meant he didn't need to set aside space or money for a table. His arms slipped around her waist from behind, and she smiled, relaxing into his hold.

"Hmm," he hummed as he kissed her cheek, resting his head on her shoulder. "Did I already tell you how nice it was to wake up with you?"

She giggled. "Only like ten times." She slid her hands up his wrists to grasp his forearms. "And I still agree. Last night was really nice, and waking up here, being with you this morning, is definitely the icing on that cake."

"I hope that means we can do this again." His cheek brushed hers in a clearly intentional caress. "I'd like it to become a habit. Even if it's just having you here with me."

"Me too," she agreed. "Being with you this last month has been wonderful. I'm so glad we finally stopped being stupid and high-minded about this."

"One of my best ideas ever," he pointed out. "Right up there with moving back to Paris to be nearer to this amazing gal I wanted to spend more time with."

"You make the best decisions," she said, feeling all warm and cuddly. "Not that you weren't always smart, but clearly your time in university stepped up your decision-making skills."

He tightened his hold for a moment. "I don't want to scare you off and I'm not trying to rush anything here, but I want you to know that there's space set aside in my dresser and in the bathroom vanity for anything you might want to keep here.  Anything that will make it easier and more comfortable for you to stay when you feel like it."

A thrill of happiness raced down her spine to settle in her belly. "Really?"

"Mmm hmmm," he hummed.

"I'd like that."

⁂

"We still up for checking out that museum tonight?" Marinette asked, the moment Alya had picked up.

"Sure are," her best friend said brightly. "And I'm looking forward to it." Alya had expanded her freelance journalism to include art openings and reviews of smaller or less known destinations around Paris.

"And the dress recommendation is what? Semi-formal or classy club?" Marinette asked. She liked to make sure that both she and Alya fit in wherever they were going, and that they reflected well on her friend.

"Classy club," Alya said. "Where the heck are you, girl? The ambient noise is very rush hour."

"I'm walking home from Luka's," she said, stopping to wait at a crosswalk.

"Oooh.  Walk of shame time!" Alya crowed with a laugh. "How was it?  How's he measure up to… uh, what was her name? Ellie?"

Marinette rolled her eyes even though they weren't face-timing and Alya couldn't see her. "First of all, there's no shame here. I had consensual sex with my boyfriend.  Definitely nothing shame-worthy."

"Yeah, yeah," Alya muttered. "You have no shame."

"Exactly," Marinette agreed, grinning.  "And Ellie had nothing on Luka."

Alya squealed, forcing Marinette to pull the phone away from her ear. "But Ellie was the gold bar for Marinette's sexcapades."

"Key word, was , Al." The light changed and she looked before crossing the street. "Oh, it was amazing.  He was amazing. Fifteen out of ten.  Would do again." Part of the reason she didn't care for one-night stands was that she felt it took two or three tries to really get to know each other's bodies well enough to really get it right. In the case of Luka, they knew each other really well and had been getting a little hot and heavy for weeks now. So maybe that was part of the first-time success.

"You might have to keep that man, Mari," Alya said, as if she was giving serious advice, though from experience, she was only half-serious.

"I'd like to think that could happen," Marinette pointed out. "It's been really nice so far. I mean it helps that I knew him so well first. But there's still things we don't really know about each other. I'm not worried about finding a creepy dark side or anything, but it almost seems like it's been too smooth. Our disagreements have been… weirdly reflective and chill."

"Luka's kinda chill in general," Alya pointed out. "I'd assume he's a pot user, but he never smells like it, and he's too focused and sharp to be all dulled out that way."

"He doesn't smoke anything," Marinette said. Even when they were just friends, she didn't like that so many people assumed he was into the unsavory side of the rock and roll lifestyle. He drank a little, casually and socially, but never when he was upset and never to excess. She was relieved her parents had met him when he was still in lycee, and knew his unruffleable demeanor was just the way he was. She hadn't had to go through an awkward intervention with them.

"I know he's not a stoner," Alya insisted.  "But he does give off the vibe."

Marinette huffed. "In would be nice for people to stop making assumptions about him."

"There are lots of things that would be nice," Alya agreed. "Hawkmoth going into genuine full retirement is on the top of that list."

"Truer words have never been spoken," Marinette agreed before wishing her friend a great day. While it was really nice to have Paris' magical terrorist in some sort of semi-retirement, she'd really love to close that chapter of her life.  Having a slightly more stable extracurricular schedule would be great, especially now that she was with someone she could see a future with. If Hawk Moth kicked his shit up into high gear again, she was going to find him and break his teeth.  With cricket bat.

Marinette had taken on most of the duties of the guardian of the miraculous, including storing the miracle box in a secure spot in her room. She still met with Master Fu to train on more esoteric elements of her dual role as Guardian Ladybug. While attending university full time, she'd effectively gotten a PhD in the history, lore and magic of the miraculous.  It had been an intense few years. Poor Nooroo. He'd waited far too long to be rescued, but she was working on a plan for that. And maybe once that had been done she could come clean to both her boyfriend and her partner. Luka would deserve to know why she would inevitably flake on him in the future, and Chat Noir clearly needed a whole lot more support and love in his life.

⁂

It was two days after she'd spent the night, and the first time she'd been back to Luka's apartment since. They'd both had work and other things to, and he'd fortunately been able to join her family for dinner last night, so at least she'd gotten some time with him. He had a couple of late night shifts coming up, recording for some musicians who simply could not function before 17:00. One of the nicest things about his job with the recording studio, was that the odd hours meant they could get together during the day in the middle of the week pretty regularly. It might be less easy once her classes started up in the fall again, but they were already getting into a pattern they could strive to maintain.

She knocked on his door. "Oh sexy boyfriend," she called in a sing-song voice. "I'm here to take you on a date."

The door swung open, and she found herself face to face with a grinning Adrien.

"You are not my boyfriend," she pointed out.

"Oh, I'm not?" Adrien said, as if surprised. He glanced down at his shirt, smoothing the fabric unnecessarily.  "I'm… Luka's proxy for the evening."

"Are not." She crossed her arms over her chest. "What have you done with Luka? Come clean and I'll go easy on you."

Adrien laughed and stepped back, waving for her to come in. "I'm helping him stall for time," he whispered. "He couldn't decide what to wear."

She rolled her eyes and smiled.  "Honestly, I'm okay with nothing. It's an excellent look on him.  But I suppose if we're going out, he has to at least not alarm the tourists."

"Luka," Adrien called toward the bedroom. "Mari's here and she brought her A-game sass." He gestured to the couch.  "Have a seat. Can I get you a drink while you wait?"

"Oooh. Are you his butler now?" she asked.  "Where's your black suit and tie."

His lips twitched.  It was nice to see him in a happy and teasing mood.  "I specialize in butlery for the millennial generation, Mari. Casual butlery."

"Hey Nette," Luka said, stepping into the living room. "Adrien and I were doing some strategic planning and I lost track of time. Sorry about that." She hadn't seen him sheepish often, and it was adorable.

"Pish," she said, waving off his excuse. "It's fine. Did you come up with a plan?" She alternated between looking at Luka and Adrien.

"Yeah," Luka said slowly. "But we're in the early stages here, so I can't tell you anything."

"Oooh." She grinned at Adrien. "You're just an extraordinary model with an underwhelming home life, but you have a secret !" She tried to make it sound like narration for a movie trailer. While both men were chuckling, she reached out to pat Adrien's arm. "I'm okay being left out of things if that's what you prefer. You have Luka helping you out, and I know he'll take care of you."

Adrien pulled her into a firm hug. "Thanks for understanding, Mari."

"Just remember that I'm here for you if there's anything I can do to help you out, okay?" She squeezed back just as tightly. "I've got your back for hugs, pastries, and a variety of support tasks."

"I'll be following up with you on those," he promised.

They all ended up leaving the apartment together, with Adrien excusing himself when they reached the sidewalk. Once they were well out of earshot, Marinette asked how their friend was actually doing.

"Surprisingly well, honestly," Luka said, nodding. "I think he's waited until he was so ready for this that he's going to have absolutely no regrets.  Well, aside from maybe the thought that he could have kicked his sperm donor to the curb years ago. His rebellion is fully planned out. It's kind of scary how thorough he's being."

Marinette sighed sadly. "He has two modes. Dangerously rash, on par with Chat Noir, and meticulously organized. There's no middle ground."

Luka offered her a half smile. "I'd noticed that. Do you think he'll balance out a bit once he no longer has to rein himself in so much?"

She thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. That sounds about right. He's so tightly controlled that when he snaps, he overcompensates by hauling ass to the other side of the spectrum."

"That's just sad," Luka said. "Does he ever get to be himself?"

"He is with you.  With his close friends away from the limelight and paparazzi, who I swear function as Gabriel's spies." While she might have admired the man's genius at one time, she couldn't see past his treatment of his son.  "I wish it didn't have to be like this, but I'm glad he's finally acting on it. He deserves to be happy."

"It's well past time," Luka agreed. "I think we should maybe try to invite him along to hang out with us some once he gets the ball rolling next week. Would that be okay?"

She nodded. "Definitely." They'd reached an intersection, and once they stopped walking, she pulled him down to kiss his cheek. "I love spending time with you.  But I can share you."

"Oooh," he said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Sounds kinky."

She rolled her eyes.  "I don't think Adrien does , kinky." Whether it was his conditioning or his preference, he was one of her few friends whose dating history and sexual interest were completely unknown. She'd gotten the feeling more than once that he wasn't comfortable talking about it. "We just need to make sure he doesn't feel like a third wheel."

An explosion several blocks over shook the pavement, and her head snapped up. Hawk Moth had been so quiet, and of course it was too much to expect him to stay that way.  But she'd hoped her luck would allow it to happen when she didn't have to worry about hiding her secrets from Luka. Maybe she should start carrying Sass with her, because him becoming Viperion again would definitely mask her absence.

Luka kissed her forehead, his presence soothing her as her mind tried to spiral out of control. "I'm gonna head back to my place," he said in a whisper. "You go do your thing."

She stared at him, her other freak-out completely derailed by this one.

"No panicking, Sweets." His thumbs brushed over her cheeks. "I know, I'm not supposed to know, so no need to confirm, okay? No excuses needed.  I get it, more than most would. Just be safe. I'll meet you back at my place."

⁂

Check out Chapter Five  >>>

⁂

I miss breaks.  Stupid fucking Tumblr.

Sorry this took so long.  Been stupid busy, but it’s been mostly good.

And if you’re so inclined, feel free to support me over on Ko-Fi

[revlyncox]

Begin Again

Unitarian Universalists can learn from our Jewish neighbors about starting the new year with a fresh perspective. This sermon was delivered to the UU Church of Silver Spring, MD, on September 29, 2019.

Our administrative office is a place of wonder, discovery, and spiritual growth. Really. The other day, our beloved and highly valued congregational Treasurer, Olivia, was opening the mail. She wondered out loud if anyone wanted to respond to our insurance company about their offer for a free wall calendar that includes safety tips for religious communities and contact information for the insurance company. I was so excited! This was just the letter I had been waiting to receive! 

If you’ve been in my office, you’ve seen how marked up last year’s calendar is. Not only do I write on it the dates of special services and congregational events, it’s the first place I look when I’m so immersed in planning ahead that I need to be reminded what day it is today. Olivia very kindly wrote our customer number down for me so that I could go on the website to request our copy of the calendar. It’s supposed to arrive in November. I can’t wait!

There is nothing like spreading out a fresh calendar, full of open spaces, the potential energy of days and weeks and months stretching before you. Anything is possible. There is value in spontaneity, and I admire people who can create things in the moment, but the gifts that the Divine has bestowed upon me work best when I plan ahead. I can adapt a plan when needed -- I’d like to think I can be flexible -- but I prefer to start with at least some goals. Hence, the golden opportunity of a new calendar: an entire year, waiting to be framed with hopes and dreams!

Of course, knowing that not everything goes according to plan, the safety tips and phone numbers for the insurance company are nice to have, too. 

My excitement about turning over a new page in the calendar is just one of the reasons I find it deeply meaningful to celebrate Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year. My interfaith family is delightfully complex in spiritual expression, so I hope it’s not too confusing that I spoke about my personal earth-centered practice last week, and this week I’m telling you that I’ll be out of the office for Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. Some of the families in this congregation are interfaith Jewish and UU like mine, but even for those who are not, there is wisdom we can learn from the Jewish New Year that fits in with Unitarian Universalist faith and practice. 

In particular, I want to talk about starting over. For ourselves, that means coming to terms with our mistakes and vulnerabilities, and setting intentions for the kind of people we want to be and the kind of choices we want to make in the coming year. In our relationships together, that might mean making amends or letting go of grudges so that we can start fresh. Turning the page doesn’t mean forgetting the chapters that came before, but it can mean a new perspective and a new direction. In our Soul Matters themes of the month, September is a month of expectation; this week is a good time to begin again, to reset our expectations of ourselves and the year ahead.

A bit of context might help. On the Jewish calendar, Rosh Hashana is the new year holiday. The shofar is blown to wake us up, to bring us into the present moment where we can do the work of turning toward life in the new year. Ten days later, Yom Kippur is the Day of Atonement, the last day before the books are closed on the previous year, a last push to take responsibility for our mistakes. I’ll talk about that next week. There is space between them to look back, like when the congregation ends our year of accounting on June 30 but we have a little time before we can give a comprehensive financial report on the year that has just ended. We need that time in between to assess and to make corrections. While Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur are two separate holidays, and it’s a great opportunity to be able to talk about them separately, they are related to each other. 

As Unitarian Universalists, we strive to practice responsibility. Our UU Principles speak of the free and responsible search for truth and meaning. Our behavior should reflect the inherent worth and dignity of all those who are affected by our actions, including ourselves. We know that we are part of an interdependent web of existence, and that our choices have far-reaching consequences on others, and that the choices of others far away have an impact on us. Whether we reflect on this at Rosh Hashana or at another time of year, it makes sense to take regular stock of how we are doing with being in community. It makes sense to lower our defenses long enough to honestly assess the places where we can do better, to repair our relationships where we have done harm, and to set some intentions for living out our values more deeply than we have before. This can include setting intentions that will allow us to have greater access to joy, to community, and to spiritual growth; turning toward life in the new year has hopeful and positive aspects. 

Last week, we talked about your congregational covenant of right relations, including the part that says:

Knowing we will at times fall short of these ideals, we intend to use this covenant as our guide for the behavior we expect of ourselves and others as we live and work in community.

This understanding of human fallibility is built into the High Holidays, and is definitely built into a long-lasting UU covenant. None of us are perfect, yet we are capable of being held responsible. Covenants give us a path for acknowledging harm, making amends, and returning to community. A regular, perhaps annual, practice of beginning again reminds us of the potential for taking responsibility and reconciling in right relationship. 

Beginning again does not mean forgetting everything we have learned up until this point. Rather, it means building on what we’ve learned, yet opening our senses to what there is, truly in this moment, rather than being governed by what we perceived in the past. There is a lot of brokenness in the world, brokenness between people, brokenness in our own hearts. That is true. And it is also true that the world, our relationships, and our hearts are capable of healing. We are alive, and so the potential for change and growth lives within us and between us and beyond us. 

The opportunity to begin again, to fill in the pages of the calendar of the year to come with positive intentions, is powerful. Recognizing our mistakes, our vulnerabilities, and our shortcomings can be scary. We might fear that making mistakes means being a mistake, but that is just not so. Being in a community that engages in introspection together reminds us that we are all human, and we can work on doing better. Coming to terms with our flaws means we have a chance to learn a new way, we don’t have to dwell there, we don’t have to create an identity out of our mistakes. But we do have to learn from them, and make repairs when we can. 

Another advantage to doing this spiritual work in community is that we have opportunities to forgive each other. Sometimes the opportunity to let go is not presented with a perfect apology. Sometimes the opportunity comes when we realize that carrying a grudge is more exhausting than it’s worth. If we open up our hearts, take an assessment of where we are and what our intentions are for the year to come, it might be possible to keep the learning and the wisdom gained from a painful experience while letting go of the resentment. It might not be possible yet. Letting go of grudges is not easy. Nevertheless, entering the new year with fewer or smaller chips on our shoulders might free us up to pursue our positive intentions with more strength than we had before. 

There’s a parable in Jewish circles that originates with the Maggid of Dubno. A Maggid is like a spiritual storyteller, sometimes a rabbi but not necessarily, someone who might be a wise fool or a musician or simply a conveyer of wisdom and cultural knowledge. The Maggid of Dubno, Rabbi Jacob Kranz, told of a fortune that was lost and found between the generations. This version comes by way of Rabbi Daniel Brenner: 

Once there was a wealthy man who wanted to protect his fortune so he hid his wealth in different places in his house. He died before telling his son where he had hidden the money. After the father’s death, the son lived in the home but he had no work and he had little to eat. He grew increasingly desperate and one day was counting out his last few silver coins when one of the coins dropped, and he crawled on the floor to find it. He searched all over but he couldn’t find his coin. In desperation he pulled up the floorboards and found one of the sacks of golden coins his father had hidden. He opened the sack and was amazed at his fortune. He searched all through the house and found more and more sacks of gold but he never found his original, lost silver coin.

Because it’s a parable, there is lots of room for interpretation in the Maggid’s story. One way of interpreting the story is that this world is full of surprising treasures. Another thing to notice about the story is that the silver coin that was lost remained lost. Sometimes we have to let go of something to find the treasures that will lead us in a new direction. It may be the case that letting go, starting over, means losing something we value: an old identity, a sense of urgency that kept us going when we didn’t think we could, a connection with someone who is gone. The grief of losing that is real. And sometimes what we find instead is a better fit for the future. 

Something I notice about this parable is how the low point in the story could have been made easier if the two characters had talked to one another, and had not put it off for another time. If there is an opportunity for healing, take it. If there is an opportunity to be in community, to reflect and be vulnerable with a trusted spiritual companion, take it. If there is an opportunity to learn from the past while being clear about what is needed for the future, take it. The treasures we have are made evident when we engage in right relationship. The gifts we need for the time ahead might involve letting go of something else we thought we needed in the past. 

The start of a new year is a good time to assess who we are and where we are. It’s a good time to notice the ways we have healed over the last year, the ways we have yet to grow, and the repairs that are ready to be made. If you are like me, a little too giddy with the excitement of a new calendar, the start of a new year is a good time to remember what day it is today, to be present to things as they are and to the people around us and the condition of our relationships. 

May the coming year be nourishing with the satisfaction of learning and growing from our mistakes. May the coming year be illuminated with the beacon of our positive intentions. May the coming year be uplifted with the unburdening of resentments that no longer serve us. May the coming year be warm with the connections of our loved ones and spiritual companions, communicating openly about what’s most important. May new beginnings bring a sweet new year. 

So be it. Blessed be. Amen. 

[sassysweetstories]

Fall To Get Back Up

Request: “OK this is a bit of a stretch but can you do an imagine where the reader is like super duper famous like gigi Hadid and was dating Shawn mendes and he broke up with her and she started smoking again and he sees in it paparazzi photos and he feels bad because she looks sad but a few weeks later new photos of her and Daniel Sharman come out and they both look happy and she looks happy and yeah I know that’s super hard but Idk what I would do without your work💖⚡️⚡️” 

Ship: Shawn Mendes x Fem!Reader (minor), Daniel Sharman x Fem!Reader

Warnings: fighting, cussing, fluff, angst, guilt, regret, jealousy, mentions of depression, smoking cigarettes, etc.

Notes: none of these gifs are mine, credit to owners. 

Tagged: @bailey-hoover @kiralivelove @thalia-prior-of-ravenclaw@anamcg317 @bellasett @queentiffanyyy @archer-whovian-violinist@beingmadinwonderland @princessisabelle19 @violence-and-velvet @lachicadelamanzana

Third P.O.V

Nobody had expected the break up. It was huge, the only thing being talked about. SHAWN MENDES BREAKS UP WITH (Y/N) (Y/L/N)! It’s on every news outlet, can’t run from it even if she tried. Andrew was still trying to wrap his head around the situation himself. From the outside, they looked like the perfect couple, happy and healthy. Almost two years of dating, he decided to dump her for what seems no reason whatsoever. And of course, (Y/n) wanted for the situation, the relationship, to have never happened. Except nobody else would stop talking about it, wouldn’t shut up actually. She wanted to get back to her old life but the tweets kept coming in. Some were positive and others, not so much. (Y/n) tried her best to ignore all of it, find a way to cope. But in doing so, she slipped into old, unhealthy habits. She could still feel his soft lips atop hers, warm and plump as sucked down on another cigarette. 

Pushing the shades up to the roof of her nose, (Y/n) pulled out another as she made her way over to the cafe to meet with her agent who’s tried effortlessly to get the young woman out of her house, away from bad habits. She knows she’s going to be pictured. There's always someone lurking around the corner, just when she thinks she’s comfortable. But upon entering the cafe shop, there’s a sense of comfort that she hadn’t had in a while. The smell of warm hot cocoa and old, torn books makes her smile for the first time in months. It doesn’t take her long to find her agent, already sat down with her favorite drink as she sported a sympathetic smile. Her agent, V, hadn’t set her and Shawn up. They had fallen for one another all on their own and V couldn’t help but admit that it was great publicity. This though, this breakup was hard. 

“THIS JUST IN! MODEL, ACTRESS AND ACTIVIST, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), SEEN FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE BREAKUP WITH CANADIAN MUSICIAN, SHAWN MENDES!” The TV screams and Shawn can’t help but look up, wanting to know if she’s doing okay after their split. The second the image displays, his heart drops. She looks pale and broken, thinner than before as she brought a cigarette up to her lips. Oh my god. . Shawn thought as his face turned pale. I did this to her. . . (Y/n)’s once beautiful and warm face was nothing but cold and lifeless. Her eyes were no longer loving and bright, more gaunty and tired circles. She looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks, months even. The longer Shawn looked at the image, the more regret and guilt he had. God, she looks so broken and sad. He couldn’t not feel for her. They were once the item, the talk of the town if you will. 

It takes him a minute to actually see the cigarette. Shawn cusses under his breath at himself. How could he have hurt her so much that she slipped back into old habits? Because of it, he was sure that’s why she looked so different, so broken. It takes everything in him to not call her, to beg her to stop and come home but it’s too late. She won’t come back to him, at least he believes that she won’t. (Y/n) looks incredibly different from when they first met and honest to god she looks like someone else entirely. She doesn’t look like the girl he fell in love with. But then again, he did this to her. Maybe, just maybe, all of this could have been prevented. But it was too late. 

It had been a few months since he last saw her. After being spotted in the cafe, it’s like she vanished from the tabloids completely all over again. Shawn would never admit that late at night he’d sit atop his bed and scroll through Twitter, almost praying he’d find a photo of her, some reassurance that she was okay because he would always spew a blatant lie when he was asked how he was dealing with the breakup. He wanted to know that she was happy again, that she was content. Shawn missed the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something as simple as flowers, or the way the sun almost seemed to touch the ocean as it peaks up from down below. This ritual continues to happen for the next few days, that is until new pictures start to float around the internet, photos he can’t ignore. There she is, looking more beautiful than the day Shawn met her. Her eyes are wide and glowing, brighter than before. Except this time, she’s not alone. They don’t shimmer that way because of Shawn anymore, they twinkle because another man that wasn’t him. 

She’s with a man that looks vaguely familiar to him. The guy was either an actor or musician but he didn’t have to look hard to bring a name to the face. Daniel Sharman, actor on the TV show, Teen Wolf. Even though Shawn is straight, he can’t deny that the guy is a handsome man, built and toned with light brown hair and a mix of both blue and green eyes. His jaw-line could literally cut a diamond and for some reason, the longer Shawn looks at the photos, the more angry he becomes. He hates the way Daniel’s eyes linger on (Y/n) as he wraps his hands around her waist, lovingly. How the young man peppers her shoulders with faint kisses and laughs when she giggles. They looked more happy and content than her and Shawn ever’d been. He hated how affectionate they were with one another, made his stomach turn with jealous disgust. Clicking on one of the videos from the twitter handle, he scoffed as Daniel twirled (Y/n) around to The Way You Look Tonight by Frank Sinatra. The comment section was over-flowing. 

“THEY LOOK SO CUTE TOGETHER!”

             “SHIP OF THE CENTURY!!”

“i honestly can’t wait to see them get married. like, i want a man who can look at me the way Daniel looks at (Y/n). #totallyjealous”

              “mom and dad? mOm aNd dAd? MOM AND DAD!! THAT’S MY MOM AND DAD!” 

(Y/n) can still remember the night she first met Daniel. Forced to attend a party she was sure nobody wanted to be at, she’d finally had the chance to slip away from the crowded scene in hopes to have another smoke. As she brought the deplorable stick up to her lips, sucking in slightly, a voice from behind called out to her. “Ya know, smoking that much will shorten your life-span. It’s killing those pretty lungs of yours.” Glancing over her shoulder to find the source of the voice, she hadn’t recognized the gorgeous man in front of her despite a faint familiarity. “And who are you? My father?” She says, sarcastically. “I ain’t got much of a life anymore, doll. Might as well pick up the pace.” Though her voice was joking, there was a hint of truth to which Daniel could clearly see, making his heart hurt for the young woman. “What makes you think you ain’t got a life?” He asks, genuinely curious to learn more of the famous, (Y/n) (Y/L/N). 

“I suppose I’m jumping back into old habits after my breakup.” Daniel knew about that, couldn’t run from it even if he tried. But apart of him was happy to have at least some slim of a chance to talk to her, let alone date the woman of his dreams. He’d always admired from afar and thought he’d never have a chance, not until now. In that moment, Daniel takes a risks and hold her hands in his, taking the cigarette out and away from her frail fingertips and puts it out before saying, “Times like these make me think that once you reach the bottom, you can’t go any further down. Sometimes you gotta fall to get back up.” And for the first time in months, (Y/n) feels like she can actually breathe again. It’s like the anvil leaves her chest and she can feel, see hope behind those beautiful bluish, green eyes. From that moment on, they were absolutely smitten. 

Of course Shawn wanted (Y/n) to be happy, to not have hurt her the way he had but he couldn’t help but feel hurt upon seeing the photos of the woman he once loved, maybe still loves. There are more videos of them and he can’t not watch them, gritting his teeth while he does so. Daniel runs after (Y/n) before lifting her up into the sky, her giggle echoing across the field before he set her down, both their cheeks red and rosy. Shawn hates the way he kisses her, the way he holds her close to his chest. But he can’t stop watching. There’s another video. She’s on his back, smiling as their friend is about to capture a photo of them. (Y/n) whispers something faint and he can’t quite make out the words until he glances at the caption. “She said ‘I love you’ to him.” Daniel’s jaw drops before he turns over his shoulder to look up at her with loving eyes. Quickly, he drops her before kissing her passionately. 

“OH MY GOD THEY ARE SO CUTE I’M DYING!!” 

             “actual couple goals” 

“i want a girl like (Y/n), god damn” 

              “LOOK AT MY PRECIOUS CINNAMON ROLLS!” 

Shawn tosses his phone to the side, rolling his eyes at the nothing but positive tweets. They were once the it couple. How could things have changed so quickly? Except they really hadn’t. It had been nearly a year after he dumped her. But he supposed seeing her single meant they could still reconnect. But at the end of the day, he’d done this to her. Shawn dumped her and she got back from the bottom and found a man who loved her more than life itself. 

(I hope you guys liked it! PLEASE. FUCKING. COMMENT) 

[sweater-weather-seven]

Tears, Grief, and Love

Request: @bat-yo-us

Hello there! Can you write a one shotfic for jumin and mc getting into an accident. The accident almost killed mc but survived. While jumin was more lucky having small injuries. I'm really am an angst freak

Author’s Note: Yo okay so this is technically my first big one shot after getting back into writing, and I honestly kind of struggled with it. I’m really sorry if it’s not what you thought it would be. You didn’t didn’t specify what type of accident, so I went with a car accident. Hope that’s okay! Also, the rest of the RFA sort of snuck into this for certain parts because I just couldn’t help myself. >.< Enjoy!

“Wow! What a great concert. That violin player had some serious talent, don’t you think, Jumin?” You smiled up at him as the two of you exited the concert hall holding hands, your fingers laced together, arms casually swinging about while you walked. You’d gone on a date to see a group of top notch musicians perform together at a grand concert hall, and the experience was wonderful. To say you were stunned was an understatement; since you hadn’t really attended anything like this before, it had been an extra special night for you, and especially Jumin since he was able to watch your adorable reactions to everything.

It was a different kind of atmosphere, but good different. The dim lighting from the crystal chandeliers above the two of you made you feel relaxed, and you couldn’t help but feel mesmerized by the way they sparkled when they moved. Upon seeing your amazement at something as small as the chandeliers, Jumin had been quick to point out the elegant paintings on the ceiling and the silver and gold decorative plating around the room. You made the most endearing face as you took in all the details around the huge space, and he couldn’t help but smile adoringly at you. You were so precious to him. If he was completely honest with himself, not even Elizabeth the 3rd could spark this much happiness inside of him. You were his entire world.

“I agree with you completely, MC. I think the violin solo might have been my favorite part, actually. I’ll have to make sure to get contact information for that group. Perhaps we could invite them to the next party we host?” Jumin tightened his grip on your hand as the two of you approached the car that was parked out front and waiting for you. Driver Kim opened the door for you both, and he ushered you inside the car first before following behind you shortly.

“I think that’s actually a really good idea! Wouldn’t it be so cool to have live music at the party!?” You smiled brightly at the idea. “And classy music, at that! Jumin, you’re a genius! I’m gonna make a note of that!” You whipped out your phone and opened your notes, quickly typing out your idea and saving it. Jumin settled into the seat next to you and you naturally leaned into his side and relaxed, earning a content sigh from your partner. He wrapped one arm around your shoulders, glad to be able to hold you close. It was one of his favorite feelings in the world to be able to hold you.

The car finally started up, and then the two of you were officially on your way home. It was particularly quiet that night; besides your small chatter about cuddling Elizabeth when you got home, there were no other sounds. Even the car sounded quieter than usual. But Jumin felt at peace with the quiet, and was satisfied with just holding you while he watched the buildings pass by through the car windows. The lights from the street lamps outside danced over the two of you occasionally, and everything was calm.

That’s why…

When it happened, there was no warning; nothing that could have signaled that tonight would end the way it did- in tragedy.

The car had come out of nowhere. There was a bright flash, the screeching of tires hard against the asphalt, and the blaring sound of a horn right before it hit them. Jumin had caught a glimpse of the car from the window on your side, but he only had about three seconds to process what was happening. There was a car speeding in your direction, fast. It was going too fast. And…he could do nothing about it. There wasn’t even time to scream your name as the impact happened. He immediately lost consciousness after the crash, but not before desperately calling out your name in his head. His last lingering thoughts, even if brief, were all of you.

When he finally came to, everything smelled like smoke. His eyes fluttered open and he had to give himself a minute to focus. Looking around, he could see that he’d been thrown a few feet from the car, but from what he could tell, he seemed to be fine apart from some bruises and decent scrapes and cuts. That was extremely lucky. He then coughed a couple times before regaining feeling in his limbs and moving about with one goal in mind: finding you. You had to be here somewhere, and he needed to make sure you were okay. He held out the small hope that if he was fine, you should be fine too, but…part of him knew better in the back of his mind. The car had hit the both of you on your side, and that terrified him. Neither of you had been wearing seat belts, either.

He realized he needed to be on the other side of the car to see what had actually happened, but he could only manage to crawl slowly towards the car while he was in shock like this. While he was inching towards the accident, he caught sight of something dangling below the bottom of the wreck on the other side.

That couldn’t be…

Oh, god. Your leg.

And- there’s blood, so much blood…

He recognized your shoe immediately, and then the panic started to set in. “MC-” He tried to speak, but the air hadn’t quite returned to his lungs yet. In the distance, there were sirens blaring, and people were starting to rush over to see if everyone was alright. This couldn’t be happening, right? This was just a dream. You and Jumin had to be asleep in the car on your way home still. Driver Kim would never allow something like this to happen. This could never…

Before he knew it, black spots were forming in the line of his vision, and he couldn’t stay awake any longer, even with his driver shaking his side and trying to keep him awake. It was all too much. The car, the accident, the smoke, you… It was too much for him to take in at once. This wasn’t a dream, and he knew that now. This was real. This was happening. And he had no control over it whatsoever.

The next time he woke up, he was in the hospital. He could tell because everything was clean and white, and of course there was the overwhelming stench of sanitizer and bleach. Ugh. For a split second, he wasn’t sure what had happened; he was confused as to how he had ended up here and couldn’t remember anything but the smell of smoke. Had there been a fire somewhere? Surely not at his house… He felt his head start to throb, and suddenly everything came back at once. The concert, the accident, and you.

He shot straight up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed in a heartbeat, not caring about anything or anyone else but you. He had to know if you were alive. A nurse entered the room as he was about to bolt out the doorway, and she blocked his escape before he could leave. Jumin recognized her as part of his personal team of doctors and nurses, but right now he didn’t care who she was or what she wanted. He only wanted to get to you.

“Move! Where’s MC!? Is she alive!? Oh, god, is she-” He couldn’t stop himself from blurting out his horrifying thoughts. He was a mess without you.

“Mr. Han, please calm down. You have a concussion, you’re only going to strain yourself-”

“I don’t care! I want to see MC! NOW!” Jumin was a mess. His eyes were wild, his hair was unkempt, and his body was bruised and battered, but that wasn’t going to stop him from getting to you. Tears filled his eyes as he stared the nurse down relentlessly, and she just gaped for a moment before responding. She’d never seen him act this way.

“Sir, she’s…”

Jumin felt his face drain of color and his heart stop at the hesitation in her voice. God, no. Please, don’t let that be the case. Please!

“She’s in emergency surgery. They’re doing all they can, I promise.”

Relief flooded his veins, but only briefly. Emergency surgery meant you were alive, but not in the clear yet. There was no guarantee that you would make it through this. “Then…there’s nothing I can…” He felt broken inside.

“Please, sir. It’s in your best interest to remain calm and stay in bed. You’ve sustained a concussion and several other injuries, though none of them are major. The best you can do right now is wait.”

Jumin refused to wait though. No matter how many times he was told to stay in his bed, or at least in his room, he wasn’t going to listen. If waiting was all he could do, then he would wait as close to you as possible, and no one could tell him otherwise. Not the nurses, not the doctors, not even the rest of the RFA when they arrived at the hospital after finding out. Zen and Seven had practically tried to drag him away from the waiting room, which had earned Zen a black eye in the process. After he had made it clear he was staying where he was, they’d decided to just sit with him. After all, there wasn’t much they could do either.

The hours Jumin spent sitting in the waiting room were some of the longest hours of his entire life. With tears in his eyes, he did the best he could to control his breathing while he bounced his leg up and down anxiously. His head was swimming with thoughts of your relationship, of little moments you shared together, of anything that reminded him of you. He felt like you were slipping from his grasp, and thinking of you and your shared life with him was all he could do to keep you close at the moment. He didn’t really know what else to do. Sometimes he cried over the memories, sometimes he smiled bitterly and cried more, and sometimes he got so caught up in nostalgia that he stopped his leg bouncing for a few seconds and forgot to breathe. He could hear Yoosung and Zen whispering about him in a concerned tone from a few chairs away, but it didn’t matter to him. He was too far gone at the time to care. It was only after Jaehee rested her hand on his arm and spoke gently that he was pulled from his reverie.

“Jumin, it’s been an hour and a half. You’ve been in that suit for a really long time now. Do you…want me to go and get you a change of clothes?” Her soft voice made his head spin, and he couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eyes.

An hour and a half.

His leg stopped bouncing and he lowered his head between his hands, his voice weak. “Has it…really been that long?”

“…Yes,” she answered in a hesitant tone. “I can send Seven or Zen to-”

He couldn’t stop the awful choking noise that came from his throat has he turned to his old assistant and shamelessly bawled into her shoulder. He didn’t hear the gasp of surprise she made as he completely broke down in front of her, but he did feel when she tentatively circled him in her arms and held him a bit awkwardly. In all her years working for him, he was sure this was the first time she’d seen him lose total control like this. It didn’t matter now. Not when the love of his life was in the operating room across from him.

“It’ll be alright, MC will be okay. She’s gonna be okay!” Jaehee’s voice was shaky, but certain. “Have faith. Everything will be alright. It has to be.” He could only cry harder and pray to god that you would make it out of this alive.

Another hour later, and Jumin was exhausted from all the crying he’d done and all the other emotions he’d felt while waiting. Zen had brought him a change of clothes from his house, but he couldn’t bother himself to get up and leave for even a couple seconds. What if the doctor came back during then and he missed the news? What if something went wrong? He didn’t want to go anywhere until he knew for sure how you were and what your condition was.

He was about to have another breakdown when finally there was movement behind the heavy double doors of the operating room. Jumin bolted up immediately and strode over to meet the doctor at the doors, desperate for any news. “MC!” was all he managed to say, and the doctor gave him a nod of understanding before speaking.

“She’s in critical condition, but she’s stable. She made it through the surgery alright. She just needs to recover. Mr. Han, she’s going to be fine.” The doctor placed his hand on Jumin’s shoulder, and Jumin found himself leaning on the wall for support.

“How…how bad is it?” he found himself asking. Even though he felt like breaking again, he had to have courage now; he had to be strong for you.

“Well, considering she spent almost four hours in the OR…she’ll have quite a long stay here. She cracked several of her ribs, punctured her lung, and her left leg is broken. She was also suffering some internal bleeding, although we managed to find the source and stop it. And then there were the wounds from shrapnel and the vehicle itself… To be honest, Mr. Han…she had a very close call with death today. She’s lucky to be alive.”

Jumin sniffed and let the doctor’s words sink in slowly. After a moment of silence, he gave a wary smile and nodded stiffly to the other man. “Thank you. What room is she in?”

The doctor adjusted his glasses before answering, “I believe they’ll be taking her to room one-twenty-four on floor five. She won’t be awake for another few hours, but-”

“I see. Thank you for everything.” Jumin cut him off and turned to make his way to your room. But before he left to see you, he approached the lingering members of the RFA in the waiting room to let them know that they didn’t need to stay with him anymore. “I’ll be fine from here on out. I appreciate you all being here, but I understand that you have lives of your own, so please don’t feel obligated to follow me. I’m going to see MC and sit by her until she wakes up.” Determination and loyalty echoed in his voice. “I can’t leave her alone.”

“We understand.” Zen moved forward to follow Jumin. “I’m coming with you at least. I’d like to support you both and help you in any way I can. I’m sure the others feel the same way.” He smiled but gave a pointed look to the others. Not that they needed it anyway; you were precious to all the members of the RFA, and they’d never leave you or Jumin alone at a time like this.

“I’m grateful, truly.” Jumin couldn’t bring himself to stand still any longer and finally started towards your room, everyone else following close behind him. His feet dragged against the floor with every step he took, and when he entered the elevator to get to the fifth floor, he gripped onto the side railing so hard his knuckles turned white. He was exhausted, but he was almost there. Just a little further...

The elevator doors opened and he struggled to keep his composure. His head was spinning, probably because of the concussion, but there was no way to be sure that it wasn’t just because of all the trauma he’d been through overnight. With bags under his tired eyes and heavy footsteps, he sped to your room and let himself in to find the nurses still situating you on your bed, one nurse adding a pillow behind your head and another checking the machines reading your vitals. You were laid on your back, asleep, your left leg propped up in a cast and bandages all over your body beneath the hospital garments. Your face seemed to have minimal damage, though there were some evident stitches above your eye and some scrapes and cuts around your forehead and cheeks. Even though he knew you would recover, it broke his heart all the same to see you in this state.

Without a word, Jumin grabbed a chair and pulled it up to the side of your bed when the nurses were finished tending to you. He sat down and gently, so as not to disturb or hurt you further, propped his upper half on your bed, his head resting in his arms and face turned towards yours so that he could watch you sleep. Jaehee settled on the couch under the window near the back of the room, Zen following suit and taking a seat next to her. Yoosung and Seven took the two remaining chairs next to the couch. The room was quiet, and no one said anything for the longest time. Jumin felt himself slowly drifting away, your face the last thing he saw before a numbing blackness took over.

Of course he could only dream of the accident. He woke up several times during the next hour, and each time he would lull back into sleep before waking up twenty minutes later after a nightmare about the crash, about you dying, about whatever his brain decided to make up for him that particular time. He had just fallen back asleep again and was watching the scene play out once more when he heard his name being called. He managed to wake from his dream state rather quickly after that, and he looked around expecting to see Jaehee or another member. Instead, he locked eyes with you and was met with your beautiful gaze.

“MC...” Your name came out as a hoarse whisper, and Jumin felt the air leave his lungs as he looked at you, tears forming in his dark eyes.

“Jumin.” It took you a moment, but you noticed the minor scratches on his face and the purple circles under his eyes. It looked like he’d been crying and in pain, and you were instantly worried about him despite your own situation. “Are you alright? You don’t look so good...”

Jumin just stared in blatant disbelief for a second before scoffing lightly and smiling sadly. “You’re the one who’s just been in an accident and had surgery. And you’re asking me if I’m okay? MC, you’re unbelievable. I-” He couldn’t continue to speak. Too many emotions were welling up again, and tears were clouding his vision. The only thing he could think to do was sob into your bedsheets.

You gave a small smile in his direction and reached out your hand to rub his back. “It’s okay. I’m here.” You felt tears pricking at your eyes as well, and before long you were crying with him. You held his hand tightly in your free one and whispered reassuring things to him while he wept. After a while he calmed down enough to talk again.

“I was so afraid I’d lost you, MC... I don’t know what I would have done without you. You’re my entire life. I was so, so scared-!” Desperation reflected in his eyes as he looked at you, silently begging you not to leave him. He was still so scared. Even while sitting beside you like this, you felt like sand slipping through his fingers.

“I’m here, Jumin. And i’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

And for once in his life, Jumin Han could not repeat the words he so easily spoke on a daily basis, because those three words would never be enough by themselves to convey everything that he was feeling. All he could do was grip your hand tight, cry, and pray that his actions would speak volumes. Because how do you put into words the crushing weight of almost losing the love of your life? How do you describe what it’s like waiting hours just to know they aren’t dead? How do you express wanting to trade places with the angel in the hospital bed? How do you let someone know that it should have been you and not them?

There were no words. No answers. Only tears, grief, and love.

[m0onbean]

strangers to lovers!AU with moonbin

genre: floOf!! strangers to lovers!AU

warnings: orchestra jokes

note: this literally happened to my sister except she didn’t get with him LMAO (and she’s in band but i’m in orchestra so i’m gonna make this AU about orchestra okay suck it candace)

in your school, orchestra is very competitive like... instead of sports being the “big” thing in typical high schools... at your town it was playing string instruments

so of course, everybody who was skilled at playing their string instrument was already deemed cool

you’re.. already at step 1... there’s just ONE problem

you’re last chair of the cellos

(note: in orchestras, the players are sorted in their seating chart by their skill. first chair is the chair closest to the conductor, so they’re the best out of their section. if you’re last chair... well.. you’re the least skilled LMAO)

bUT HEY!!!! you weren’t to blame !!!!

you first started to learn how to play the cello only a month ago

despite your private cello tutor’s efforts to spice you up it just didn’t work much. cellos are hard to play Ok

and even though it is a little embarrassing you can’t find yourself to care bc in the end you’re only doing this for your VPA credit LMFAO + your good friend MJ is also last chair in his viola section so the two of you were the Dynamic Duo. “the strings kings” as he calls it

“MJ never call us that again” “dang Y/N don’t get your bow so tightened” “MJ i swear to god-“

alrighty so your school is having a competition so your entire orchestra has to take a field trip to a fancy concert hall to perform

and so everyone in your orchestra is all panicking and tuning their strings cuz the bus is arriving soon

and when you’re done packing your cello, you look around to try and find MJ and that’s when you find a familiar(?) back and you’re like “MJ!!!!”

so you run up and smack his plush butt since that’s how you always greet him

...but you realize

this man is way too tall....

and when he turns around in utter confusion you’re like

shit........... S H I T

BECAUSE YOU JUST SPANKED THE BUTT OF A STRANGER

AND WHEN HE TURNS AROUND YOU REalize that he’s frEAKING FIRST CHAIR OF THE VIOLINS: MOONBIN

anD in your mind everything is scrambled into a mess bc first of all, it’s tHE FIRST CHAIR OF THE VIOLINS. AKA the king of the orchestra!!! literally he sits on a throne!!! he invented the word “orchestra”!!

AND IT WASNT EVEN LIKE A LOWKEY SLAP... it wAs like a FULL, haRD whack

so you’re out here apologizing several times and bowing your head frantically

but when you look up Moonbin is actually all cool about it

he’s just like “oh!!!! i wAs just... surprised” and you’re like “omfg i’m so sorry just end my life here right now i’m ready to be taken by the gods”

but he’s just like pffftttt i don’t blame you this ass is thicc asf

and you’re like ... wot

then he’s laughing and his eyes are crinkled up and he looks like a puppy & you’re like wow this man is so beautiful

but you remember you’re talking to the FIRST CHAIR VIOLIN and you get all

blushy from receiving this individual attention from him

so you excuse yourself and run away to whoever knows where so you can crumble and die from embarrassment

when the bus arrives and you find MJ to be your seat partner he asks why you look so drained

and you’re like... please i don’t want to talk about it

at the competition you’re still embarrassed bc honestly you technically sexually harassed him and that just goes unexcused but he was so chill about it like how?? and why??

and you don’t realize it but you’re zoning out while shamefully plucking the strings of your cello when suddenly a head pops up in front of you and you’re like bITCHWTF but when you see it’s moonbin you’re like- oh.. Ooh??

and he’s like “are you ready for the concert!!” and you’re like “uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh notreally”

and he’s all smiley and happy that it’s nearly impossible not to at least smile back

yet you still can’t believe you’re talking to him !!!! especially because you’re pretty sure everybody is staring at the two of you talking rn and is like Why is the last chair cello and first chair violin talking ????

you two end up complaining about how the concert hall doesn’t provide you guys free food and laugh about your conductor’s bald spot

the performance goes well and you feel all giddy when moonbin tells you that you did well when you get back to the school

you end up messaging him for the first time on Instagram and apologize once again for slapping his buttkckskskaoa

he ends up dismissing it and assures you that it was nice

and you were like ....???wHAT

but he quickly corrects himself in the next message bubble and is liKE “wAIT I DIDNT MEAN IT LIKE THAT-“

that’s when you start to question his kinks

at school he starts to normally hang around you and even offers to play your cello and for you play to his violin

the star musician is actually better than you at the cello even though he’s only played it a few times before

you don’t even know how to hold the violin bow RIP

whenever you’re not in orchestra class together, he somehow manages to find you while you’re studying in the library or walking around the hallways

at first you’re a little taken aback at how persistent he is to maintain your odd friendship but you actually don’t mind at all

he suggests to tutor you so you can sight read pieces better and you of course take up that offer...

for the first quarter of the “lesson” it was actually learning while the other time was spent lounging on his couch while talking about both of your hardships and goals in life

despite being pressured as the star musician of the school, he loves and can perfectly handle it

his parents and teachers are always praising him and that motivates him to enter a musical college and major in Music Education and maybe start his own teaching business

his dreams are always so realistic and hopeful at the same time that you just admire how hard working he is and how he manages to not crack like an egg under all of this stress honestly

MJ starts getting a little jealous and pouts when you started to hang around moonbin more often but at the same time is secretly rooting for the two of you to hook up wHAT

moonbin ends up spending a LOT of time with you... in fact he spends so much time with you that you can’t recall what it was like not being around him

somewhere throughout the friendship there’s a turning point where you realize he’s not just your friend.. or you don’t want him to be JUST that

it comes at no surprise when you shyly ask him to be your boyfriend while you two are cuddling in your living room while listening to classical music in the background with him reading a book and you playing with his fingers

his response? a little scoff like “isn’t it obvious we are practically already dating”

you’re a bit hesitant to fully submerge yourself into this relationship bc you always need to remind yourself of both of your circumstances... he’s first chair violin and he’s like wayyyyy above you and it worries you bc you care about his reputation

and when you voice these concerns to him he just pets you and softly says “(y/n)... it’s literally just string instruments . nobody cares”

... he’s totally right though. nobody cares at all lmaooolo,, except maybe all of his fans that were hoping to date him... but moonbin is totally oblivious that he has a fan club LMFAO

your relationship is so pure and innocent yet it still makes your head spin and heart feel so tingly

moonbin is romantic af and wouldn’t hesitate to pluck a flower off the ground and tuck it behind your ear casually

he would like to always compliment your voice and say it’s the best music he’s ever heard and will ever hear

likes to compose his own songs and title them very lowkey things that all refer to you such as... Untied Shoelaces or Beautiful Eyes

other times he’ll just flat out title the song “(Y/N)”

likes to kiss you... a lot.

kisses you everywhere and whenever. in the music room, when he’s about the leave your house after a night of studying and cuddling, while you’re just playing the cello and he thinks you look cute, when there’s a red stop light so he can pause driving and peck your lips

you two are so open that it’s so easy telling him anything. for ex you’re constantly worried about your future and feel like you’re lacking. he makes sure to tell you that you’re doing fine and that you’ll succeed at whatever you do

and you comfort him and remind him to take a break since he’s always striving for the best so he tends to overwork and be really hard on himself

Moonbin always teases you for being so entranced by his butt the first time you met and thanks to your butt fetish, the two of you are together now

and you can’t really deny it because... well.. he’s not wrong lmaooo

dates would include him in your room at 10pm complaining about how even though classical music goes underappreciated these days that doesn’t mean that modern pop music isn’t good while laying his head in your lap as you run your fingers through his hair and nod your head whenever he makes a good point

occasionally he’ll cook for you and you’ll try to compensate by cooking for him too but it never ends up good (AKA you two end up burning all of the food) so you guys resort to ordering pizza

moonbin is so grateful that you understand him and remind him that he is a human that needs a break, too

and you’re grateful that he’s so understanding and genuinely cares about you

he even confesses that one of the main reasons why he took interest in you was because you were last chair cello but you didn’t slack off at all

even though you think he’s the most hard working person you know, he thinks the same about you

eventually MJ meets Jinjin, a trombone player, and immediately goes on a double date with you & binnie

you almost shed tears at how in love MJ is with Jinjin and the four of you are literally the best squad to have happened

in conclusion, you and moonbin love eachother so much and are perfect bye

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #147

“i almost died, but it felt great.”

Have you ever thought of a relationship as more of a job than love?  Yep, definitely with Tyler.  Girt felt that way too, kinda. Do you live in a town where basically everyone knows everyone else?  Nope. When’s the last time you chose a bath over a shower?  Years ago, you don't even wanna know what was wrong with me. What are you doing for your next birthday?  Hopefully I'll be in a tattoo parlor my dude. Do you know anyone else with your name?  Yeah, but spelled differently. Who do you care about the most?  Sara and my mom. Colored skinny jeans. Yay or nay? YAY. Interests & hobbies:  Photography, watching let's plays, music, writing/RP, any interaction with animals, art, gaming, being out in nature if it's cool. Music. What do you listen to?  Heavy metal, mostly.  Other sub-genres of metal and rock. Quality or quantity?  Quality. What’s your phone’s signature? (if you have one…)  Oh my fucking god I forgot phones used to have a signature option.  I don't have one. Do you think it’s possible to will yourself out of caring about someone? I don't think so, honestly.  Well... maybe.  But I think you have to truly want to. Do you know anyone that is albino?  No. Would you agree that smoking (cigarettes) should be illegal?  It should be, but it's too late to make it so.  Too many people would lose their jobs. Do you prefer regular bacon or turkey bacon?  Regular by miles. Where do most of your relatives live?  New York and Ohio. Is your weight proportionate to your height?  No. What is the last place, other than home, that you stayed overnight?  Sara's house. Do you prefer leather or lace?  Lace. Would you ever buy a motorcycle?  No, too risky for me. What is the furthest you have traveled alone?  Illinois. Have you ever ridden a train? How about a subway?  No to both. What did you do on the busiest day of your life?  I dunno. Do you think everyone is born innocent? Or do you think “evil” is predetermined?  I lean more towards being born innocent. What was the meanest thing you’ve been called?  A martyr. Do you have any pets? If so, what species/breed? How did you acquire said pets?  I have two dogs, one being a beagle/cocker spaniel and probs collie mix, and another that's supposedly part jack russell.  The first came from a friend of a family friend, and the other I think from Craigslist?  Then I have a cat that looks to have Siamese heritage, and he came from my sister's mother-in-law.  I also have a champagne ball python that came from a breeder in Florida.  Both my iguana and rat came from Craigslist. Have you ever gotten a pet at a shelter? You should. There’s nothing wrong with shelter pets.  I believe so? Have you ever taken in a stray animal?  Story of my family's life with cats lmao. Have you ever dated someone simply for their looks?  No. What about dating someone simply because you felt too bad to say no?  That's honestly how Tyler and I started, yes lmao.  I didn't "like" him yet, but I mean, he was enough of a good guy for me to be like "okay let's try." Does any food always make you sick but you love it too much to not eat it?  None "sick," no.  Some don't sit well with my stomach, but I eat anyways. How do you feel about alcohol?  Dangerous potential.  Don't overindulge. Have you ever been drunk?  No. Chicken or the egg, really?  Chicken. Do you tell white lies?  Sometimes. Would you rather be able to talk to animals or be fluent in every language?  Talk to animals! Does your kitchen have a pantry?  No. Have you ever interviewed a job applicant at your workplace?  No. How do your political beliefs compare to those of your parents?  I'm not as conservative as either. Have you ever gone over 3 months without shaving/waxing your legs?  Lol yes. Would you ever consider being a foster parent?  No. What’s your opinion on lottery tickets? Waste of money, or no?  Once in a blue moon, whatever, give it a shot if you want.  But generally a waste, odds are too small. Have you ever swam in a saltwater pool?  Those exist?? What kinds of leisure activities did your family do together when you were growing up?  Almost nothing all together...  We would swim together sometimes, though.  And cook out. Are either of your parents retired yet and if not, what do they do?  No.  Dad's a mailman, and Mom's a pharmacy tech. What kind of booze did you last take shots of?  I've never done shots. What is one moment that you missed out on that you wished you didn’t? Off the top of my head, I guess the total solar eclipse we had a while back.  Didn't see anything here.  But eh, didn't have glasses anyway. What is your favorite shape?  Circles. Who did you last kiss?  Romantically, Sara.  Platonically, I think my nephew. Are pigs adorable or dirty?  PRECIOUS. What brand water do you drink? (Smart Water, Dasani, etc)  Great Value lmao. Can you speak a second language fluently?  No. Do you wanna learn any other languages?  I would really, really like to take German again and become fluent. What is the worst pain you’ve ever experienced?  Physically, an infected cyst being drained with not even nearly enough numbing and morphine; emotionally, romantic heartbreak. What’s your least favorite chore?  Dishes.  I refuse to live somewhere that doesn't have a dishwasher when I move out aksjfdasoejiw. If you had 5 minutes to talk with any politician, who would it be?  *shrugs* What would you ask them?  ^ You’re stranded alongside the road. Who do you call first?  Mom. Name the last 3 TV shows you watched:  The Good Doctor, The Bionic Vet, and probably a show that's not coming to me for Keegan or the girl Colleen watches. If you had to be a member of a TV sitcom family, which one would it be?  jfaskdjasie the Addams.  Goals. Name 3 things from your childhood that you still have today:  Like half a billion stuffed animals, some toys, some video games. How many bones have you broken?  None. Who is the one person you DON’T want to come to your wedding?  Hm.  Idk.  Maybe my sister's husband, but I mean it'd be fine if he kept his judgments to himself as I'm probably marrying a girl, and boy do I know his opinions. What is your favorite fast food joint?  Probably Wendy's. Have you used Limewire before?  Hahaha yes. Do you have any siblings? Younger or older?  Yeah, five older and one younger. Have you ever had a one night stand?  No. Do you or any of your friends have children?  My best friend has a son. Who do you envy the most, if anyone at all?  Ha, couldn't tell you.  Somebody. So have you ever been on a legit date?  Yeah. Last person you watched a movie with? 
 Colleen. Favorite book that was made into a movie? Johnny Got His Gun. Do you like eggnog?  NO. Ever seen someone get surgery?  Not like, in person.  But I watched a video of how the surgery I had is done before having it. Do you play Pokemon Go? If so, what level are you and who’s your buddy?  I play when I can anyway, Pokestops are like non-existent here, so.  But anyway I think I'm 11 or 12, and my buddy is Charmander. If you wear lipstick, what’s your favorite color to wear? Black. Has your best friend ever made you cry?  Yes. Have you ever entered a talent competition?  No. What color is your best friend’s hair?  Blonde. Is your best friend older or younger than you?  She's a few months older. Do you have a dream catcher?  No. If you’ve ever been out of your country, do you have a souvenir?  I've never been out of the country. When was the last time you saw the person you had your first kiss with?  February of last year. Have you read any of Shakespeare’s works other than Romeo and Juliet?  Yeah, though it was still for school. Why did you move to where you’re living now?  We got evicted and kinda just had to pick whatever accommodated us and wasn't gross-looking.  Thankfully we all really like our house, more than our old one even. What was the most severe punishment your parents gave you when you were growing up?  Multiple spankings. Have you ever been to California?  No. Do you think dreams actually mean anything? Why/why not?  No.  Because recently Colleen told me about a dream where she won a fried chicken plush from a claw machine and it came out as four buckets of KFC.  Find me the meaning pls. What’s something you’re really bad at compared to others?  Social interaction.  I panic over how long I'm supposed to keep eye contact, dude. How much was gas the last time you filled your car up?  I don't fill my own gas, don't have a car.  But I think it's like... $2.69 or something here?? Do you usually fill up at the same gas station?  Mom normally does. What was the topic of conversation the last time you spoke to a sibling?  I was texting Ashley about where we're doing Ryder's birthday pictures. Are any of your relatives musicians?  No. Is there a movie you currently want to see?  Slender Man and The Meg. Have you ever received an autograph from a celebrity? No.. Do you have a piece of technology that should be dead, but it’s still going?  Oh boy, the iPod nano I've had since the beginning of middle school. Ever sent drunk texts? No. How many dresses do you own?  Besides my two prom ones, I think one?? What was the most unique pet you’ve owned? My iguana, probably. Do you enjoy swimming in the ocean?  Big scream yes.  I was at the beach the other day and the water was absolutely perfect. Is there something you want to do, that you swear you will, no matter what? Yeah, meet Mark.  Direct opposite location in the U.S. my ass, he has no escape. What’s something you’ve vowed to never eat? Wild animals, unless I'm in a survival situation. Do you have trouble sleeping if you sleep anywhere else but home?  Eh, I can sometimes.  If I'm comfortable, not really.

[birdship]

all of em. have fun, nerdo.

Femme or butch? Soft butch.Do you have a “type”? If so, describe it

Plaid button-ups or leather jackets? Plaid.

Describe your style Tacky and comfortable.

Describe your aesthetic Space, the ocean, birds, robots, cats, the meeting point between technology and nature.

Favorite article of clothing? I have this tie-dyed zip-up hoodie that’s super comfortable and warm without being TOO warm.

Favorite pair of shoes? Uhhh I don’t really have that many pairs of shoes, and the ones I do have I guess I like equally for different practical reasons.

Current haircut? Shitty.

Any haircut goals for the future? Not shitty.

Describe the best date you’ve been on Uhhhh none.

Describe the worst date you’ve been on None?

Single? Taken? In a relationship.

If taken, talk about your girlfriend/wife! My girlfriend is my best friend of almost 5 years, though we only started… dating? (I guess I can phrase it that way? It’s an LDR) earlier this year. They’re funny and sweet and talented and they understand me and my garbage brain better than anyone else I’ve ever met. And we’re an amazing creative team.

If single, what are you looking for in a potential girlfriend/wife?

Describe your dream wedding It’s autumn or late winter, and the wedding is held outdoors but under cover. Like maybe a gazebo or something. There’s no sound except for the rain pouring down outside, and the guests are wondering where we are. Suddenly, I poke my head in the doorway, smile and apologize and hurry to the altar as some jpop song plays very softly in the background. I stand awkwardly at the altar alone until the song is over and the next one begins… then suddenly there’s a crash! It’s my partner, who has punched through the roof of the gazebo and as they land, the John Cena theme begins to play. The rain soaks through the fancy carpet runner as they join me at the altar. We high five. Then when the priest starts doing the vow stuff, Life is Beautiful from Deadly Premonition starts playing louder and louder until nobody knows what’s even going on anymore. Then everything goes normally and we act like nothing happened.

Do you want kids? Nope.

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live? Honestly, I’m not sure. There are places that sound appealing, but… I dunno where I would want to settle down.

Favorite lesbian movie? I’m struggling to think of any movie I’ve ever seen that could be described as “lesbian”…

Favorite lesbian novel/story? Can’t think of any novels, and I can think of waaaay too many comics/manga, which is my way of subtly saying that I can’t possibly pick one. So rather than pick a fictional story, I’m going to say the non-fiction autobiographical comic My Lesbian Experience With Loneliness.

Favorite lesbian song? I’m not sure what necessarily qualifies as a specifically lesbian song… but uh… I’ll go with Magnet (yes, the Vocaloid song) or maybe Thao Nguyen’s cover of With A Girl Like You.

Favorite lesbian musician? Uhhhhhh… OSTER Project maybe?

What lesbian stereotypes do you fit into, if any? I mean… I’m pretty gender non-conforming in general so like… several of them, lmao. I don’t wear makeup, I have short hair, I own several plaid flannel shirts, I don’t dress in a way that is attractive to men…

Ever been assumed to be nothing more than a gal pal? No, simply because there’s never been the opportunity.

If a woman wanted to woo you, what would a surefire way to accomplish that? Send me weird MMD videos.

Be positive! What do you like most about being a lesbian? Girls………. But seriously, uh… I feel like, especially since it took me so long to come out and to stop being in denial, I now understand what I want from a relationship better than I think most straight people do. In coming to terms with my orientation, I did so much introspection and soul-searching about what love and romance means to me, conceptually.

Are you more of a cat person or a dog person? Cat for sure.

Turn ons? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Turn offs? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Do you usually ask other women out or do you wait for them to ask you? I’ve literally never asked anyone out, so um… probably the latter. I had a huge crush on my best friend for the entire time we’ve been friends, but I was 98% sure they didn’t feel the same way, so I just buried my feelings and felt really insecure and frustrated and hurt about how they definitely don’t actually care about me… until literal years later when they suddenly asked me if I wanted to try the girlfriend thing. And now we both know we both love each other. So that was a long way of saying I absolutely don’t do confrontation of any kind, and I wait in angsty silence.

What is your dream career? What I’m doing now except more and better and with much more success. Also maybe a chill job at a bookstore or an art store on the side. Or opening my own business.

Talk about your interests or hobbies! I draw, write, make games, crochet, dabble in music sometimes, play video games, bird watching, taking photos, uhh… Light hiking? I guess? Not anything as strenuous as the word “hiking” brings to mind, but like… walking in interesting places.

What is the most attractive quality a woman can have? Kindness.

Do you love easily or does it take time for you to warm up to someone? When it’s the right person, I love immediately. That’s… one hurdle my best friend/girlfriend and I hit early on, and I’m glad we were able to move past it. Like… We started talking and I was like !!!!!! WOW !!!!!! new best friend and maybe we could be more than friends in the future??? And they were like “uhhh maybe chill a little, we JUST met”. Like.. I dunno, I don’t fall (platonically or romantically) for people easily in general. I tend to keep my distance. But when I meet someone who I click with, I can come on way too strong sometimes.

Ever fallen for your best-friend? I mean… obviously. Yeah.

Ever fallen for a straight girl? No, because I can’t remember the last time I even interacted with a straight girl. I had a couple fleeting crushes in college, but one was in an LGBT history class full of other gay people (and the person in question was bi and non-binary, I think?). The other one may have been straight, though, I’m not sure… She sure seemed like she was flirting with me, though, idk. But seriously, almost every friend/acquaintance I’ve had any significant platonic feelings for, let alone romantic, has ended up being LGBT even if I (or they) thought they were cishet at the time. Awkward gays stick together, even subconsciously, I guess.

The L-Word: yes or no? (love it or hate it?) Never seen it.

Favorite comfort food? Bread. Like just plain bread. I love a good plain bread.

Coffee or tea? Coffee.

Vegetarian? Vegan? None of the above? Neither.

Do you have any pets? Yup. A cat and a bird.

Early-riser or night-owl? Both, which works out about as well as you’d expect. My sleep schedule is a mess. I guess I’d say I’m a night-owl who wants to be an early-riser. Or maybe an early-riser who can’t manage to sleep properly.

What is your sign? Capricorn.

Can you drive? Nope. I have a learner’s permit and I’ve driven in parking lots twice - once as a teen, then once as an adult - but it was too scary and uncomfortable. I should learn to drive, but ugh, I wish I didn’t have to because I really don’t want to.

Who was your first lesbian crush? Uh, I’m not sure. I definitely liked a lot of female characters for reasons I didn’t quite understand as a kid, but I don’t know which was the first or whatever. So instead I’ll just tell the story I told my girlfriend recently - when I was first seriously coming to terms with being attracted to women, I happened to watch the video for BoA - Eat You Up (warning: flashy) and I remember just sorta watching her like… ah, hm, yes, perhaps girls… are extremely hot actually… maybe this is okay.

At what age did you know you were a lesbian? Specifically a lesbian? Uh like 25 or 26. Attracted to girls in general? I was in denial for a long time but I started kinda sorta slightly coming to terms with it around age 19 or 20.

At what age did you come out (if you have)? I came out around 25-26, shortly before realizing that I’m not bi or pan and I don’t have to “stay open-minded” or “give men a chance”.

Are you crushing on anyone at the moment (celebrity or otherwise)? My girlfriend and Hana (see answer 2) are my eternal, permanent crushes.

Talk about how your day went Pretty boring. I went for a walk and saw two dogs. It rained. It was nice, but not very exciting.

Talk about your dreams/aspirations for the future I wanna live with my girlfriend and have a studio for working on all our projects, both together and separately. Maybe open a store by the ocean selling art and stuff. I want to keep drawing and writing and making things.

Least favorite gay celebrity? Leaving aside the obvious assholes and transmisogynists… Ellen Degeneres. I don’t hate her, but I’m a little bitter about some shitty things she’s said (particularly fat shaming things).

[doomedandstoned]

Life Disintegrates

A Chat with Goya's Jeff Owens

~Interview and Concert Pics by Leanne Ridgeway~

                Before we get to the new tidbits, how are you and how are you digging the new Goya line-up?

Hey! Things are going great.   We just got done with a short hiatus from shows to record our new album, and we’re getting back into the swing of things.   I started Goya when I was in a different band, because I wanted to do something a little heavier and a lot slower.   Nick joined a couple of years later and Sonny joined up last year.   The first time I met Nick was actually the first time he came to jam with us.   Sonny had filled in at short notice on a tour with us in 2014, and we’re very happy to have him as a mainstay, finally.   It’s been a long time coming.

For several releases you’ve worked with Laney Oleniczak in creating album artwork -- all gorgeous collaborations, by the way.   Are there other artists whose work you drawn inspiration from?

Yeah, Laney did a great job on the Nothin’ but Dead Stuff 7” and Obelisk.   Nothin’ but Dead Stuff is definitely one of my favorite covers of ours.

Hunter Hancock has been instrumental in crafting the imagery of Goya.   He painted the cover for 777, and designed one of our earliest and best-selling t-shirts.   We enlisted his artistic talent once again to do all of the art and layout for Harvester of Bongloads, which was definitely the right choice.

As far as other artists, there are honestly too many out there to put in a concise list.   If I had my druthers, we would have Skinner and Arik Roper doing artwork for us.   Maybe one day!

Last October, Goya self-released a battering four-song EP Doomed Planet through your own label, Opoponax Records, along with three other releases -- all in 2016 -- and now the new LP, Harvester of Bongloads, which just released.   How much pressure do you put on yourselves to record new music?

We’re always trying to move forward.   Usually, by the time we have a release out, we already have three or four new songs we’re working on for the next one.   Honestly, this is the first time that hasn’t happened.   We literally have zero new material at the moment.   There’s still a chance that that will change, though!

All that being said, we don’t really put pressure on ourselves, per se; we just work on new material as it comes.   I think we all (“we all” being musicians) probably enjoy working on new music the most, so that’s the main pressure.   We just want to keep having fun.

Harvester Of Bongloads by Goya

Do you and the other guys have a disciplined method for writing new material or do new songs grow fluently from a jam session?

I am a songwriter at heart, so usually I have everything pretty fleshed out by the time I bring it to the band.   Sometimes I’ll even record demos on my own and send them out.   Things do tend to take on a life of their own, of course, when other minds get involved, which is great.  I suck at drums, so when I record drums for a demo, there are a lot of things I can’t do.   And with the bass, Sonny and I have a similar bass style, but he definitely plays some things differently than I would, so it really helps to create a sound that is nothing like what I would have done on my own.   Now that the band is caught up with where I’m at writing for the first time ever, I’m excited to see where things go!

What do you personally consider to be the most insightful moments while writing and recording Harvester of Bongloads, and what is your favorite moment on the album?

To be honest, I think that there is a lot about this record that is the most dumbed-down, primitive version of Goya, so I’m not sure there is a moment that I can consider to be extremely insightful.   One thing I can say is that "Omen" took four years to write and it only truly started to come together in the month or two before we hit the studio.

We were still tweaking things on that tune in the studio, in fact.   There is a lot of that song that is very different from the way we were playing it a year ago, and it is much better for it.   Originally, the bass and drums were doing the exact same thing the guitar is doing in the beginning of the song, and it was super boring.   I have some demos of it, and I cringe when I listen to them.

At one point, I talked to Sonny and told him that he should write a more engaging bassline, one that Nick could write a drum part to.   Once they got their parts together, it allowed me even more freedom in my part.   Then I started to write additional parts that went with some of the stuff they had added to the song.

The lesson there is that a three-piece is best when everyone is doing their own thing that is engaging, but still goes with what the other two are doing. I hesitate to call that insightful, because it’s sort of a, “Well yeah, duh!” statement.

As far as a favorite song, I think we all like “Disease” the most, though I really enjoy the “Fade Away” section of “Omen,” as it’s the only time we’ve done something like that so far.

Back to the Opoponax Records label, for a minute.   Would you share the story on why you started our own label?   How do you balance the scale in being both the owner of a music business and a musician?   Is it easier or more frustrating to be the one in control of the result?

There isn’t much of a story to why I started the label, honestly.   It was out of necessity.   I wanted 777 to come out on vinyl.   I looked into how much it would cost, realized I could afford it at the time, and started Opoponax Records.

Opoponax is a really small operation, so it’s not too difficult to manage.   I don’t even think of myself as a business owner, to be honest.   I still have a day job, and that is the most difficult thing to balance in the equation.   The hardest thing about balancing Opoponax and Goya is worrying that an unruly customer is a Goya fan.   I’m sure fellow record label guys will know what I’m talking about when I say that some customers can be rather difficult and demanding.   I’m kind of a take-no-shit type of person, but I also want to keep people happy, especially if they’re fans.   That being said, when someone is being a real asshole, I’m not going to cave in to their bullshit, and I imagine that makes Goya lose some fans here and there.

There are obviously things that are easier and things that are harder in taking care of a release 100% on my own.   Overall, I think it’s easier, as I enjoy retaining control over the art and packaging as it is.   We’ve had some stellar-looking releases come out from other labels that I’m very grateful for, but to say that everything has always gone 100% smoothly with them would be a lie.   We’re definitely on good terms with every label we have worked with, but there is always some level of compromise when you work with a label.   Whether or not the compromise is worth it always comes down to what the label can offer that I can’t do myself.

At this point in the game, I feel that I can do anything the labels we have worked with so far can, but I am hopeful that the next Goya record (whenever that happens) will be with someone who can bring something new to the table.

Opoponax Records also just released their first non-Goya record with the new Toke 12”.  Do you plan to expand the label’s distribution roster or was this a one-time thing?

It wasn’t a one-time thing.   I have a Grey Gallows release coming out this year, as well (hopefully in April).   However, I am very picky about what I will put out, mostly because I can’t afford to do much.   I started this label to release Goya records, so I have to make sure that nothing I put out is going to hold up the Goya release schedule.   2017 is already booked solid, in terms of what I’m putting out, and I’ve had to turn down a few people.

I actually just turned down a release today that I would have loved to do, simply because it would have held them up for a long time.   Nobody wants their record put out a fucking year from the day they make an agreement!

I’ve wanted to run a record label since I was young, and I’m finally doing it.   I hope things continue to go well and I’m able to sustain this for years to come!   Perhaps one day, Goya will be on a better label, and I’ll be able to put out only other bands.

Goya is heading out shortly for an “East Coast Weekend Disaster” tour with Aneurysm, Toke, and several other bands (which us North Eastern people are thrilled about, by the way). What are your touring plans beyond these dates?

We have a West Coast tour this month. Other than that, that’s all we are really able to talk about. We definitely plan on hitting it harder this year than we have before and harder every following year.

What’s been the best show you’ve play so far with Goya?

Psycho Las Vegas, hands down.   Crowd response played a huge part in that.   There really is nothing like being in a room full of people that are all there to have a good time, and are really enjoying themselves.   When the crowd has energy, it’s really easy to feed off of that energy, and it helps our performance a lot.   The Vinyl stage at Hard Rock Hotel is a killer venue, as well, and we had people running sound that did a terrific job.   We’re so grateful that we were afforded that opportunity.   We would be more than happy to do it again any time.

What about the worst, or the strangest, experience you’ve had at one of your own shows?

Hmm, probably a show with Slow Season in Tucson at The Bashful Bandit.   That was a few years ago and surely the show would do better now with both bands playing there, but it was a total ghost town, and felt kind of awkward.   We really like Slow Season, though, so at least we got to hang out with them and watch them play!   Always a pleasure.   Get back at us in a few years and we’ll probably have a worse story!

On a personal note, I know you’ve made the choice, somewhat recently, to go sober.   Many folks find that a difficult thing to maintain, particularly in the music industry and the "stoner rock" realm.   How has this lifestyle change affected your perspective on your music and goals for Goya or Opoponax Records?

It honestly hasn’t affected those things much.   Before I quit smoking, I had already decided that we were going to make Harvester our last weed-worship album, but also make it our best one.   I have a desire for things to mature.   That desire is evident on Obelisk, where there is not a single drug reference.   Another thing that has changed is the Opoponax Records weed-a-gram logo.   But, again, that is something that I had already wanted to change back when I was still smoking, so it really is all coincidental timing.

I went sober during a bad breakup.   I was absolutely crushed and incapacitated for about three days, and it was the first three days I had been sober in a while, so I figured I would just ride it out.   I say “sober,” but I really was only smoking weed.   I’ve never been a legitimate addict.   I just realized that I was always irritable when I couldn’t smoke, mostly because I love smoking so much, so I figured that if I cut it out entirely, I wouldn’t be as irritable.   The jury’s still out on that one, to be honest.   I think I’m just a pissed off dude, in general.

If funds were no object and Goya had their pick of active bands to play with, where have you always wanted to play and who are the bands you want in the lineup?

Roadburn is probably at the top of that list.   Touring that whole area of the world is definitely a goal.   There are so many bands it would be great to play with, big and small.   High on Fire, Valkyrie, Metallica, Sleep, Ozzy, Baroness, Soundgarden, Iron Maiden, Orchid, and on and on.

How do you think venues, labels, and bands could work better together to get a solid crowd turnout and record/merchandise sales?

As far as labels, just promotion in general.   Strong internet presence seems to be the name of the game right now.   For bands, I think just doing your best all of the time with everything you do, as though every time you play your instrument, it will be the last time, because one of those times, it definitely will be!

What is the most important thing a newer band should do to get themselves heard?

Put out an album on vinyl, and contact as many blogs as possible with a free digital copy and all of the release info.

Massive thanks, Jeff, for taking a few moments to visit with the Doomed & Stoned readers -- and, of course, to Goya for kicking our eardrums into oblivion!   Parting words?

Don’t let people waste your time.

Follow The Band.

Get Their Music.

Goya On Tour

If you’re lucky enough to be where Goya is playing, get your ass to a show!

March 9th – The Flycactcher - Tucson, AZ March 10th – Yucca Taproom - Phoenix, AZ March 11th – Soda Bar - San Diego, CA March 12th – Complex - Glendale, CA March 13th – Elbo Room - San Francisco, CA March 15th – High Water Mark - Portland, OR March 16th – Funhouse - Seattle, WA March 17th – The Shredder - Boise, ID March 18th – Club X - Salt Lake City, UT March 19th – Beauty Bar – Las Vegas, NV March 20th – The Green Room – Flagstaff, AZ

[benandcoblog]

Nashville's Next Sweet Country Belle w/ Melanie Meriney

Melanie Meriney is an up and coming urban pop country artist who is a hat tippin', boot wearin', word slingin', country singer-songwriter making big moves in Nashville, Tennessee. I was lucky to grab her before the end of the year to ask her a few questions before she receives her first Grammy for influential and inspiring music. During our interview she mentioned she needed some help with her independent companies branding, I offered to help define her art and production company logos. Nothing like collaborating with like minded individuals striving to make something through passion and dedication.

[Ben]: You were born in Pittsburgh, what were your first 15 years like as a youngster?

[Melanie]: I was actually born in Los Angeles, and we moved to Pittsburgh when I was just three. I had a pretty awesome childhood. My parents and siblings were always supportive of my music dream, and I spent a lot of my younger years singing in church choirs, local choruses, open mics, and talent shows. I played travel ice hockey as well as field hockey at school and tried to keep my grades up so I could come to Nashville for college!

[Ben]: When did you decide to move to Nashville? Were you inspired by someone or something?

[Melanie]: When I was in third grade, I went to a Shania Twain concert with my parents. I watched her from my dad's shoulders with binoculars and thought she had the coolest job in the world. The next day, I asked if I could take voice lessons and I've been pretty single-minded ever since. I picked up a guitar and began trying to write songs. I knew Nashville was my next step after high school, so I applied and got accepted to Belmont University.

[Ben]: Do you notice a difference in the communities between Pittsburgh and Nashville, such as midwestern hospitality? Or is everyone more or less the same?

[Melanie]: There are slight differences. I'm not sure Pittsburghers identify with the midwest so much as they do with the east coast. People in Pittsburgh are pretty straight-up, as in, they tell you what they think and don't try to dress it up, for better or worse. That's different from the south, where people can be sweet to your face while masking their actual feelings. Strangely, a lot of my closest friends in Nashville are from northern states—I think we just naturally gravitate towards people with similar attitudes.

Both cities give me a strong sense of community. I feel at home in Pittsburgh, and now Nashville is also home. I've been living here going on nine years, so I think I can pretty much call myself a local.

[Ben]: Parents have a significant influence on our lives… did yours push you to become a musician? Did they ever have a doubt you shouldn’t be in music and encourage you to pursue something else? Were they always supportive of your decisions?

[Melanie]: My parents were integral to my development of musical tastes and style—my dad would play all the '80s rock bands he loved, and my mom would always have country radio on in the house. Both have been my biggest supporters while keeping me grounded. I talk to them pretty much every day to let them know what's going on with music and get their advice. They're the best.

They (and I) want me to be independent and have the ability to get a job that supports my main career aspirations. So, I attended Belmont as a dual English and Songwriting major, and then went on to get my Masters in Education. I admire the whole all or nothing path that some of my peers have taken, but I don't ever want to be dependent upon someone financially if I can help it.

[Ben]: Was there ever a time in your life when you essentially almost hit rock bottom via money, job, emotions, and/or feelings? What happened, where were you in life, and how did you overcome it? (I ask because I’m currently at this stage, and on vacation for winter writing and interviewing awesome people!)

[Melanie]: Aw no! You'll climb out! I pretty much have a breakdown every other month, honestly. It's such a conundrum choosing a career in a volatile field like music and still needing some sense of stability and sanity. I occasionally get anxious and depressed when I feel like nothing I do is working or mattering, and I'm struggling to break even financially or can't afford career moves that I feel are important. It's easy to look at the highlight reel of other people's lives and think that everyone is doing it better than you. But I've found that life is more like a rollercoaster—when you're low, you have to know that you're going to go up again.

I try to surround myself with people who remind me of my worth. A good support system is my perpetual saving grace. Make a list of everything you are accomplishing (even if it doesn't feel like a lot to you at the moment) and then catch lunch with someone who cares about you and can keep you motivated, on the right path.  

[Ben]: Can you share a song you've written that has a hidden meaning or one that is emotional to you and your future as a growing musician/artist?

[Melanie]: I love writing tongue-in-cheek songs because I'm pretty sarcastic. One song you may have heard is the title track of my last EP, “Up in Lights.” It talks about the pressures of the entertainment industry, like the way we dress, act, perform, network, interview, etc., and how easy it can be to lose your sense of self. The song says ridiculous things like, "Nobody got anywhere by being just who they are," and, "You're only as good as they're saying; you may not be you, but your name is up in lights." I hope that listeners pick up on the sarcasm and understand that song actually means the opposite! As an artist, your most important responsibility is hanging onto the values and the tenets that make you YOU.

[Melanie]: I don't doodle when writing, although I always loved drawing and art when I was younger. Sometimes, to de-stress, I'll put my phone down for two or three hours and paint with watercolors. I'll show you [Or here is] a bird I painted a few weeks ago when I was especially stressed!

[Ben]: There are many musicians out there wanting to break into the industry. Most start their careers through social sites such as Instagram or YouTube. How were you found? Do you have advice for others?

[Melanie]: A solid fan base will always be the most effective way for an artist to become relevant. Finding your fan base can be easier with social media, primarily if you have limited resources and can't fund an entire cross-country tour. I've made a lot of great connections through live streams, DMs, and have been working on building my YouTube presence. We are creatures with short attention spans, so content is huge—I try to post at least once a day (sometimes I'm better at it than others) to keep a constant stream of engaging content going, whether that be music, videos, live streams, or pictures. Socials are a great way to start!

[Ben]: The holidays came and went like crazy! It seems like just last month we had filled our bellies with Thanksgiving turkey, stuffing, gravy, and Grandma Barb’s famous strawberry rhubarb pie. What’s your favorite holiday? Do you believe in Santa? And since Christmas just flew by, can you tell us your favorite present so far from a friend, family, or someone else?

[Melanie]: I have a tie for my favorite holidays, which are Christmas and the Fourth of July! I love Christmas because it's cozy and you're surrounded by family; and the Fourth of July because it's right in the middle of summer, providing some of my best memories. I believe in Santa in the spiritual sense—someone who brings together the most important things in life!

My favorite gift ever was my childhood kitty, Kristey. I got her in second grade. My parents put her in a cute little box, and she was my best friend until college when she passed away.

[Ben]: I’m a stickler for creative puns and jokes, though when it comes to music, it isn’t my forte. Puns like mine could get me in treble, they also usually fall flat, and people get tired, so I might give this sentence a full rest. Maybe if I had some sheet music, I’d take a lot of notes. Can you give us your best one-liner?

[Melanie]: (Laughing) I love it! Um... I'm definitely not the funny one in my family—that'd be my brother... hm... is your fridge running? If so, you better go catch it! (Best I got, sorry everyone.)

[Ben]: What’s next? Do you have a 3- and 5-year goal?

[Melanie]: My goal for 2019 is to put out new music and fill my calendar with tour dates! You can find them on my website at melaniemeriney.com! Even though I'm a planner, I'm finding this career path difficult to schedule. In five years, I would love to have a record deal with some solid radio airplay! Ultimately, I want to be financially secure and able to work on my music full time.  

[Ben]: You currently have a crowdfunding campaign; can you tell us more about it? Is it hard to fund new endeavors? Do crowd campaigns for an already established musician provide more exposure while your backers get something to take home?

[Melanie]: I do! The last day to donate was December 24th (Christmas Eve). Our goal is $10,000 for recording and marketing new music. It's definitely a grassroots endeavor and takes a lot of humility to ask for help. Luckily, I'm able to give back in the form of signed CDs, t-shirts, hand-written lyric sheets, Skype concerts, and backer-selected cover songs. Crowdfunding is a great way to find out who truly cares about your career, and it's not always who you expect! The support has been phenomenal.

[Ben]: This wraps my interview questions for you, would you like to add anything else for our readers? Any words of inspiration?

[Melanie]: You are where you are in your life for a reason—whether it's to learn something, meet someone, or hear a good story. Embrace where you are knowing that as long as you are doing what you love, you won't look back with regrets.

[Ben]: Thank you, Melanie. That's excellent advice that I can certainly take to heart, and I'm sure others will as well. I've been loving your music since I first heard you, and know our readers will be just as inspired as your music continues to evolve and delight.

We look forward to hearing and seeing what you've got in store for us in 2019.

Melanie Meriney is an up and coming pop-country artist from Pittsburgh, PA now living in Nashville. She has opened for popular acts such as Little Big Town, The Commodores, Restless Heart, and Steve Augeri of Journey, as well as having been nominated for a Nashville Independent Music Award for Best Female Solo Artist. Her single, "Lifeboat," rocketed to #2 on both the UK HotDisc chart and Music Row (with the corresponding video receiving GAC rotation placement). Melanie is a "2018 Artist to Watch" on AXS and has received multiple mentions in Billboard, Country Aircheck, and Music Row Magazine. She is currently promoting her newest single, "Flame," with a music video release this month.

Follow Melanie Meriney on Instagram @melaniemeriney, Twitter @melaniemeriney, Facebook @melaniemerineymusic, and YouTube at /user/melaniemerineymusic.

For tour dates, you can find Melanie’s most recent touring schedule on her website at melaniemeriney.com.

[houstonlocalus-blog]

War On Women Take Their Message To Warped Tour

War On Women. Photo: Bridge9 Records

  In punk rock, the tide has been turning towards the positive over the last decade. Gone is the attitude of bro-ism that once plagued the crowds and fan bases of the pop punk world and has since been replaced with more legitimate punk music and a very aware crowd. Being misogynist, racist, sexist, and abusive is not allowed in punk anymore, and those who lead the charge are doing so with more vigor and awareness than most who came before them. Baltimore’s War On Women is definitely one of the bands that’s leading that movement. Aside from a fiery live show, their message of feminism within their co-ed lineup has become a calling card worth listening and paying attention to. This summer, they’re taking that message to a broader audience when they perform on the Vans Warped Tour. Free Press Houston was more than thrilled to speak with lead singer Shawna Potter about where the band has been, where they’re going, and what they have planned for their Warped Tour appearance here in late July.

  Free Press Houston: The band has been around since 2011 and you’ve received all sorts of critical praise. Has anything changed since you started?

War On Women: Nothing about our message or priorities has changed. Maybe a few more people know about our band, and as we all know, critical praise does not equal fame and fortune, [laughs] but we’re still doing our thing: playing shows, writing songs, and putting an inclusive feminist ethos front and center. Hopefully we’re always growing and becoming better feminists and musicians.

  FPH: You’re known for your stances on feminist messages, but you also cover political topics like mass shootings and overall rights. Did you ever think the message of the band would get as much press and as much traction as it has when you started?

War On Women: We weren’t thinking about it like that, honestly. The stuff we’re talking about is important to us and we felt it necessary to get this message out, for ourselves really, knowing — hoping? — that others might find something valuable in it as well. And to be clear, mass shootings and overall rights, as you say, are feminist issues. That’s the thing. Basically any issue will affect women and the LGBTQ communities in a unique way, and that is why it’s imperative that everyone have a say in government and media through representation. Mass shootings are often performed by white men experiencing a kind of toxic masculinity that is rooted in the idea that to be a man is to be as different from a woman as possible, while desiring them — or being confused about not desiring them — and hating them at the same time. If we were to allow men in our culture to experience a full spectrum of human emotion without shame, while emphasizing that women are autonomous human beings who don’t owe you anything, then frankly we’d all be better off.

  FPH: After this last election, it feels like the country went backwards, and now we’re in a more unsafe and draconian era. Does the message of the band change at all under this administration, or is the goal to just get it out to more and more people?

War On Women: It’s been very difficult for me to think of a “plan” for this band in this new era. I am still waiting for a time when looking at 45’s face doesn’t physically sicken me or remind me of his admitted and alleged sexual assaults. I am certainly not giving up, and one reason we are playing Vans Warped Tour all summer is to get our message out to more people who might not hear it otherwise. While feminism has an actual definition despite pervasive misunderstandings, there are certainly different tactics in getting the message across. I’m happy to play heavier music in front of folks who didn’t show up to see us and maybe try to convert some of the uninitiated.

  FPH: The last time you played Houston, you played at Walter’s, the city’s most progressive and feminist leaning venue. Did it shock you that the crowd reception was so positive down here in the South?

War On Women: Well, I came from somewhere, right?! I was born in Houston and I’ve spent a bit of my life there, and I know if riot grrl found me in junior high before the internet was in every home, then of course it’s possible for people to find progressive, female- and queer-friendly music now. I was super excited to meet all the young women in bands or who want to start bands, and to see everyone singing along, it was a beautiful thing!

  FPH: Your last album came out well before all of the negativity that the last election has brought upon the country. For your next release, what do you have planned and will you focus it more towards this currently tone deaf administration and those who voted for them?

War On Women: Again, I can’t even look at 45 and I don’t wanna even talk about him. I don’t know if I’m looking more forward or still in a weird state of shock or denial or what. I’m still processing it personally. So that is certainly affecting me. It’s also not very easy for our band to create and respond to events in “real time,” it’s just not something we can handle logistically or financially, so that leaves us with either writing a record that is immediately dated upon it’s release, or trying to touch upon themes at least that are bigger in scope than specific current events. Or a healthy mix of both, but the shit hits the fan too fast and in too great a quantity to keep up these days, you know!? I’m trying to just let my creative process do it’s thing at the moment.

  FPH: I caught your Houston and Sound On Sound dates last year, and I found your show to be a mix of sonic assault, fevered energy, and community based message. For those who’ve never seen the band before, what should they come to expect from you at your Vans Warped Tour appearance?

War On Women: That’s high praise, thank you. I mean, if everyone felt that way we’d all be in good shape, I think! You know I try to put myself in the shoes of everyone attending, and at the core I would really love people to truly understand that there is no one way to be a woman. And if women can be different, can be individuals, then that implies that we are human and deserve respect; we’re not just play things to be ogled at or abused. And if me and Sue feel free to be ourselves on stage, maybe those watching can feel free to be themselves as well. We’re not rail thin, we have cellulite, I have bacne and bad teeth and stuff, you know? We are middle class and white, so we have plenty of privilege in life, but as far as getting on a stage and asserting that we have a voice that deserves to be heard, and we’re not asking nicely, and we don’t look like models? I think that is something every girl, queer, and trans kid should see, so they know their voice deserves to be heard, too. Just as important, boys need see that every girl, queer, and trans kid’s voice deserves to be heard, so I guess it’s good that Warped is letting them in this year [laughs].

  There’s nothing tame about a set from War On Women, and as a guy who’s seen them more than once, they definitely will make sure that their voices will get heard when they perform. You can see War On Women at this year’s Vans Warped Tour. The all ages event will be in Houston on July 30 at NRG Park. With gates at 11 am and tickets between $41.50 and $51.50, the tour has plenty of depth this year with sets from Candiria, Bowling For Soup, I Prevail, Riverboat Gamblers and many many more. Discounted tickets are available from these Journey’s locations while they last as well.

War On Women Take Their Message To Warped Tour this is a repost