#i do my dads pills and did both my grandmother's pills and i do my own and i could do that all day everyday

[jackalhadrurusluvr]

they should just give me a job

[withered--s0uls]

Nuzi Hellspawns (this took may more time and effort than I wanted it too sobs)

More info on the twins, Scrapped child outfit for Orita & the AO3 comment(er) who gave me the name ideas (bc I'm bad at names lol) under the cut 💕

Orita:

N calls her his "sweet Violet" due to the color of her optics being a light purple

Personality wise she mostly takes after N, however she did inherited Uzis unhingedness so she has her moments

She got Uzi's skill in robotics, engineering and hacking

Her and Uzi help each other with their projects once Orita is old enough to help Uzi (Uzi always helped her daughter when asked ofc)

Once the twins switch to their Teen/Adult bodies, she starts to basically upgrade herself by custom making DD forearms so she looks more like N too

The above point worries N a little because she actually gave herself weapons in them -- N always refused to have her look at his weaponry, having a strict "no weapons around the kids unless it's absolutely necessary" rule.

Because of the above rule, Orita went to V instead because V doesn't mind her looking at her weapons. She thinks it's cool that she's interested in them

Her childhood body used to be Uzi's when she was a kid (same with her Pill Baby body lol)

She placed a sticker of the DD logo on her cores cover as a child to kind of honor her Dad, she loves him dearly <3

N did her hairstyle :3

She probably picked up the phrase "Biscuit" from her dad

Scrapped outfit:

Rexim

He takes more after Uzi with his personality so he's more angsty

He continues the catch phrase "Bite Me" from his mother and Grandmother

He inherited Ns love for animals & cute things and one might catch his angsty persona slip when it comes to that

He has a bad habit of picking fights or getting involved in them

This resulted in his main camera being severely damaged in one confrontation, resulting in him primarily using the Headband optics as camera

Said headband was made Uzi (both of the twins headbands were) because the twins code included Ns "real eyes" / headband optics, which resulted in them having issues with their sense of orientation and depth perception without said optics. They aren't nearly as advanced as their dads when it comes to features and accuracy, but they get the job done

He kinda goes through a "my dad is boring" phase at one point, but that's swiftly put to an end when he actually sees N in action

He had severe problems balancing using WD legs, seemingly not having enough footing to do so. So Uzi made him custom ones based on Ns lower legs so that their son has more surface to stand on and distruste his weight on

The WD symbol on his cores covering ends up scratched up and with chipped paint as he gets older, due to him getting into fights a lot

Both Twins

Both kids inherited the downsides that come with being a DD/Solver user - meaning they can't go out in the sun, have issues overheating and do need to feed on oil (these issues don't start until they are transferred to their first functional bodies. As babies they're fine)

This probably means Uzi went out of her way to improve their internal cooling system a bit

Other

Seeing as Oritas childhood body is that of Uzi, I am debating on if I make Thad child-free and he offered them his for Rexim

This idea comes from me hc N and Thad as having a brotherly bond & feeling like the CoolKids Trio would still be very close later on. Thad is practically the twins uncle :) (he spoils them lol)

Thank you to this AO3 user for the name ideas <3

When I looked up the two guns in question I found out Orita also is a brand for stuff like dish soap and laundry detergent & Rexim is also a candy brand lmao

[nunesbytko]

Netflix- Dahmer- Monster- The Jeff Dahmer Story- Episode Eight- “LIONEL”

Episode Eight-  Lionel

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

  Trigger warning [Suicide mention]

  Back to Lionel crying at the station.

  He asks to see his son, they permit it.

  Jeff apologises, his dad as you can imagine is in bits. He tells him that he needs help. He believes his son can get better.

  Lionels trying to pick his brain, asking him why. He doesn't know.

  Jeff tries to tell him about the roadkill and Lionel gets triggered and completely takes it the wrong way. He's clearly blaming himself.

  Joyce Jeff's mother is getting hounded by the press.

  She's working with LGBT men, introduces herself as "Joyce Flint" gets emotional at work.

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

Lionel can't sleep. He hasn't slept in 5 days. He's blaming Joyce for all the pills that ruined Jeff. He's raging, blaming Joyce for everything. Shari comforts him.

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

The police have closed off Jeff's Grandma's house. She has dementia now and Lionel has to go to help her. Police and press are outside and inside.

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

Reverend Jackson does a march of solidarity with the victims families.

The Reverend is preaching the truth. But I used he's being coached by the police as well? He knows how to get a crowd going.

  The Konerack cops, Balzerack and Gabrish are both put on paid leave. They complain and say they are going to fight this [ Really, they should have been FIRED, FIRED, but hey what do I know?]

  Victims are going on TV,

  A blacked out guest makes an accusation that Jeff was abused by Lionel.

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

Lionel meets up with Jeff and his lawyer to try to convince Jeff to put through an insanity plea. Jeff said that he knew what he was doing, that he wasn't crazy. But his dad pushes for this change, telling him about the Ed Gein case. He's already read about Gein in a comic book.

  Lionel is blaming comic book culture now

  The Judge turns down the insanity plea.

  Outside of the courtroom Joyce and Lionel have a shouting match.,

  Joyce goes to the Grandmother of one of his victims [Curtis Straughter] to ask them to put in a good word for Jeff???

  Whaaaaaatttttt???????

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

Victims impact statement are read out.

  I feel for Glenda

Lionel meets Jeff and breaks down finally blaming himself in part for what happened.

  Joyce tries to kill herself.

  Lionel gets the news, but he's not too bothered. But he'll call David soon. but right now he's busy typing his book on everything he's been going through.

  The Konerack officers get re promoted and repaid.

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

  Notes

Acting off the charts as usual

  Joyce is Self centred AF!!! How dare she go to the families  of the victims!!!!

Even in jail, Lionel doesn't really listen to Jeff

The Konerack police officers getting reinstated did make me sick! This did happen in real life. These officers ruined lives and nothing really happens. They get their jobs back. BACKPAY. They just go back to the force like nothing has happened. They should have been BANNED AND I mean BANNED from any type of umbrella term  Law work.

  It's just so disturbing to me!

  As always Richard Jenkins makes me cry lol. This actor is frigging amazeballs. Every scene!!!

My favourite scenes.........

[sniper-rifle-coffee]

So had a tough day Saturday me & the family had a funeral for our grandmother and grandfather, long story not short, my oldest brother broke that night I had to take control of him & my younger brother, so oldest blacked out making me regret leaving my kids then told me every day he thinks about his dad walking out then as he became older he felt that he had to become the father of the family an we see that in him I look up to him but after him all this I still need to be there for him he was in so much pain he then talks alone to our little brother at some point they were on the ground hugging crying screaming that was bad because as soon as I went to split them up our little brother bolts to the highway yelling screaming I chased him down an get him back to the car after calming him down oh lord it was so fucked that night traumatized both of us I'm pretty sure our little brother won't be going to anymore family events because of what my older brother said an did there's so much my older brother broke me talked about my kids made me feel worthless even though he said he feels like a bum lower then me since I'm a father he then started to yell in my face I have to keep all the family members together every year or two I have to contact all our family even though he was doing that telling everyone there that we have to meet least a 1 or 2 year for now on, the thing about my family we only meet when death occurs its rare for us to come together ever it's just were not social that much so we meet near never,

I get why my brother wants us all to come back to being a family there's not many of us left he then also started to say he's now the oldest one in the family on our moms side this all seems so fucked up didn't help that my older brother did nothing for our oldest brother that's why I had to deal with them seem I'm always the one that needs to keep pushing on but I'm fucken tired lately I stay up nights in a row the longest I've gone without sleep was nearly 3 days keeping busy cleaning my place my roommates parents place even cutting there grass just to keep busy just getting fucked up after work high asf drunk I'm so tired but can't sleep I have so much going on since this funeral, bills family friends roommates fighting daily so im popping pills painkiller for my body hurting my fucker feet I still need to see my doc for that & a bloody fucken refill been near a month trying to get my 15mg so nearly a month having only 2mg of my Anti psychotic my mom thinks I can't sleep because I've pretty much been off my meds I need 17mg I'm missing 15mg so smoking weed is a high risk but I've been risking it need it helps me slow down, plus bills an debt collectors keep emailing me and calling me every day I just started to pay for my child support a wonderful 310$ each month now that'll be great for rent tight asf they took this amount when I was doing windows and doors that was a great paying job, the job I do now is like half a cheque compared to windows so my CS is little high weird timing so my son is also going to have a new brother or sister she told me that she's with child from a guy she put in jail he's out an guess they're having a child that's pretty awesome but little fucked up this guy man should have stayed in jail he hit her an yelled at my boy fuck him but eh as long he don't fuck up ill be chill don't like him one bit,

ah anyways so I got my bills paid for living here but my phone bill is fucked for my ex I have her on my plan she don't pay for this bill even though she gets heavy charges going to the USA using data roam my last bill mine 240$ hers 350$ to 400$ because going to the usa so much it hits the bill fucken hard I paid 410$ few days ago the remainder is 600$ an due on the 24th so I have to message her again to help pay the bill or get cut off I can't afford for her to up fuck the phone bill just to fuck some guy in the usa thank fuck the night we fight I told her I don't trust her & that she's paying for the fucken suv I got her she's got a really good paying easy family job in IT she could easily pay for some of the phone bill but won't so seems if no pay by Saturday she's off it I just pray I can get her off it.

Still hurting missing my kids I had to leave I couldn't live with her an her dad any longer in the ghetto bug Infested Projects with her lies an doing things behind my back it even shows soon after i left she just went right to the other guy..

you know what's another fucked thing she pays 400 for fucken rent I pay 1750 three ways maybe 2 ways soon fuck me man then pay for water an hydro internet foods house hold things so like I said too roommates been fighting an I'm the guy in the middle listening to both sides seems I'm the one that keeps them from losing it fully on each other one mate been sick missing lots of work not cleaning after him self & get real messy when his gf comes visiting even though all he does is game on pc every day n night so me an other mate talked he said if he misses rent or borrows off me again he wants him out I get it but I said we got to give him a chance even though there had been a few chances already fuck hate being the nice good guy for people I'm so tired left an right just trying my best to keep peace an people happy I did my best for my kids the girls probably maybe miss me or hates me for not getting to say bye or why,

I finally just met my son while back for the first time had a great day getting to know him an play in a park together ate some food had Ice cream that was a great day at the forks,

but I was there for my girl 9years an didn't even get two years for my daughter I hate my ex why would she do it leave me in the dark I known we were drifting apart but I wanted to be there for the kids so badly I feel so useless & cowardly I just couldn't live with her for months I wouldn't hold her I'd sleep far in the corner against the wall most nights to hold my daughter as she slept in the middle of the bed my heart hurts not feeling hers anymore I'm crying again I keep missing out on so much I only get updates from my mom about how my daughter's are doing I'm in so much fucken pain feel lost an stuck suffering daily guess it's what I deserve I could have stayed but I knew what was happening an I mentally couldn't do it any longer if I stayed I would have had psychosis again it would have been some time but it was going to happen living like that small rooms I've learned what triggered my last one her an her family with a mix of alot of alcohol an weed. Last few days non stop thinking life is really fucking me it's so hard I sometimes get to vent to my mate helps but I still feel so alone my freinds don't get or feel what I deal with or gone through I feel so depressed and Defeated my only fix is weed alcohol an painkillers lately that's all I do keep busy fix clean move shit work I'm tired same thing daily work coffee music I go out now again just to try an social hang out with friends but ever night is rough sleep maybe few hours then repeat over an over shit just keeps building up I need a real break I'm hoping this weekend to finally chill out I wanna keep venting but this is alot an probably enough bitching it's me I shouldn't do this but I feel breaking writing things out I stopped writing on my notes since the ward guy in there I let him use my phone & he fucked with my notes this is my last place to escape vent talk just to feel a little better.

I just need a break soon it's killing me slowly living like this. Fucken trauma keeps creeping in my mind since the family get together for our grandparents.

[ilaiyayaya]

"Take your pills" - Sonozaki Shion

Every interaction with my family is like the most rage-inducing thing imaginable, like it's impressive how rarely I see most of them yet of the like 2 times I see each of them each year most of them always find some way to piss me off, like it's actually impressive, like they take 2 shots and somehow get a headshot both times. See my uncle for the first time since Christmas (hopefully the last time until next Christmas too, or preferably forever if life goes well in the next few months), literally never talk to this particular uncle btw, despite that he's fucking like, weirdly perceptive? at least compared to the rest of my dad's side of my family (which tbf, is an extremely low bar), I probably say one sentence to him every year and yet he's the only person who's caught onto me not being christian, and also that I was suicidal as fuck a few years ago. Realistically, surely by this point at least a couple of the others have at least figured out I'm not religious, as dense as they are there's fucking no way they haven't connected the dots by now, but they definitely didn't until long after he did, which would be dangerous as fuck if I was in a worse position, because he is probably the most religious person in my family, and very high up there with the most religious people I've ever met in general, luckily as far as I'm aware he's very silent about other people's business, so that's good.

Point is. I think he may have clocked me as trans lol. Which if he has, at this point, would be really fucking funny, actually hilarious, because there is quite literally nothing he could do to cause any problems for me with that information. He probably hasn't figured it out fully, I think I do a pretty good job at hiding that particular thing, and at least keeping it well within the realm of plausible deniability, but he's almost definitely at least a little bit suspicious. I went to my grandmother's house, they were there for some reason, I blanked out for most of that encounter so I don't remember any of what led up to this, but like 5 minutes in, completely unprompted he asks "how do you feel about transgenders?"

It was so fucking weird, like I said I don't talk to him like, at all, ever, even when I am in the same room as him, and the rare times when I do the conversation is usually just like, basic filler conversations. Of course I answer in the most Plausible Deniability™ way possible and say "complete indifference, believe it or not I don't really spend a lot of time formulating opinions on things that have absolutely no impact on me I think it's kind of a waste of energy" with that exact fucking wording and it could not have worked better, almost immediately ends the topic, but not before he calls trans people "kinda fruity" and says something about not being "politically correct" like actual fucking elon musk incel right-wing buzzword, this man is like in his fucking 50s. Also in the last 6 months I've switched from responding in the most short, basic way possible to all of my family members' questions to just like, being an asshole lmao, like it feels so good to be in a position where like, they already know I despise all of them, I'm on the verge of moving out of my father's house, after which I will never speak to any of them again, and if I were to get kicked out before then, I'd be perfectly fine I have enough safety nets, they cannot do anything to me so it is just so fun to just rip into them at every opportunity I get. Like if you're gonna say things that you know will set me off at least be prepared to be told to fuck off.

At least it's like, kinda good rage, motivating rage, satisfying rage, instant snapping out of apathy and into mania rage, like at this point it's extremely rare that they actually have any impact on like, my self image or like, esteem or anything like that, my opinion of my family is far too low at this point for anything they say to really get under my skin. Still obnoxious tho, very annoying. Honestly it's kinda just funny more than anything, like they're so predictable, actual fucking caricatures half the time, I've started making a mental bingo game out of it, like which topics are they gonna bring up completely unprompted this time, and which one of them is gonna do it? It makes it kinda fun, plus when I know what they're gonna say I can fuck with them, skirt the line of what I can say without them catching on y'know, it's fun.

I hope my entire family rots, and maybe cute little mushrooms grow on their skeletons and possibly a bit of mold, maybe form a natural little fungus ecosystem around their skeletons. Is that too far? Am I skirting the line of getting banned for that does that count as a death threat? Like does just saying I hope they die count? I mean I didn't include anything about flying hammers so like it's probably fine I guess.

[eazy-group]

Cee lost 68 pounds

New Post has been published on https://eazydiet.net/cee-lost-68-pounds/

Cee lost 68 pounds

Transformation of the Day: Cee lost 68 pounds. We started following her transformation journey in 2017. Over the years, she faced the loss of loved ones, PTSD, depression, and the challenges that come with a busy life and a growing family. Despite all this, she was able to prioritize her health and fitness.

Social Media: Facebook: Cee Duncan Instagram: @naturally.cee

It was January 27, 2017, when I submitted my initial submission to BWLW. For those of you who are not familiar with my story, let me catch you up on my backstory: My fitness lever was placed on the back burner because everything else was more important at the time: 

Working full time

College classes full time

Managing my own growing family 

And being one of three caretakers for my aging parents. 

Looking back on it all, I would’ve done exactly what I did. However, as life often does, my juggling act would eventually lose its balance. 

I lost my mother in 2009. Then, in 2012, I lost a sister to suicide and my dad from bone cancer a few weeks later. I would eventually develop PTSD and depression, which forced me to take months away from my job. 

With the help of a wonderfully gifted psychologist and medicinal therapy from the VA, I managed my fledgling mental illness. It was a few years afterward before I felt normal and could focus on my physical self. My “house” wasn’t normal. I was 5’2″ and weighed 196 pounds.  

My 2014 fitness journey began with a Zumba class at the Hayes-Taylor YMCA. My eyes were drawn to how everyone exercised together and had fun doing it, as well as the encouraging smiles of the group teacher. Everyone was doing something a little different, and it didn’t matter. I was hooked as soon as I eased into the back row and got lost in the music. 

In the next few years, I would become a Les Mills Body Pump Instructor, a Silver Sneakers Instructor, and a Certified Personal Trainer. I wore a size 6-8. I was feeling great! I never thought I would do this in my 50s. I weighed 140 pounds and felt amazing! 

Then Covid. The world stopped. And I wasn’t sure what to do.

I am naturally a social person, but as much as I tried to wing it on my own around my family (I became a proud grandmother during the Pandemic), the continued isolation and my carefully cultivated routine added to my depression. Twenty-five pounds seamlessly crept back on. I couldn’t go to church. I gamely walked and did online classes. I kept on trying, and my mind was eased. My control was gone.

As the world slowly opened up in mid-2021, so did my heart. The Y’s classes resumed outside and inside the gym. As we masked and socially distanced, we all cautiously came together with a common goal: to become what we once were or as close as possible.My goal before and now is the same: to be my best self. To FEEL better.

I began with a prayer to my Lord because a “weight journey” is a stressful undertaking. I started taking (in my case, “teaching”) three classes a week. I remember how hot it was outside, but I was so happy to move. As I found my footing, my confidence in myself and my ability to regain control over my body returned. I ceased focusing on the end result. Instead, I focused on my strength; at 61 years old, I needed to! My weight slowly came down, and with sensible portion control (no pills), lots of water, and less fried foods/more veggies, I returned to my pre-Covid weight of 128 pounds. Because I am older, I was able to lose those pounds in about a year.  

My fitness routine consists of teaching six classes weekly (Thank God for Les Mills Body Pump!). I have both the socialization and the energy of the class to drive me. It’s a win-win! I also walk with my husband and with my dog.

My “a-ha” moments were simple ones: my inner thighs stopped rubbing together. It is much easier to climb up a set of stairs. A few months ago, I was with my grandson, and it was huge! As much as I love my many selves, I have mad appreciation for it now. I am healthier, adventurous, more energetic, and living life with all I can. (Can I say “skydiving”??)

To that sister who’s ready for change: before you became someone’s sister, friend, girlfriend, fiancee, wife, mother, coworker, boss, employee, confidant, etc., it was you. We, as women, are taught to be selfless and to place ourselves last. You are one of The Lord’s babies, and she needs attention as well. Keep moving. Find something you like to do and do it. Invest in you. Believe in your own hype. Don’t stop. Never give up. You are precious. You are worth it. DO YOU.

Read more about Cee’s transformation journey.

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[rimouskis]

lol so:

my grandmother was regrettably redpilled by right-wing talk radio over the last several decades of her life, and while it was hidden pretty decently from us grandkids (aside from the, like, shelves of right wing personality memoirs she had on her bookshelves), it DID cause strife in the family, the most prominent piece being: she excluded one of my uncles from the will over a political disagreement they'd had years prior to her death.

my dad was the one to get the call from the hospital that she'd passed; he was at her home, and when my mom drove out to go be with him, the thing she found him doing—the FIRST thing he'd thought to do after learning his mother was dead—was throwing out all those trash right wing books she'd collected.

when my dad and I cleaned out her house after she died, we found chests full of bunk "supplements" and scam products she'd been led to buy. she was the type to buy up weird products... and she was both strangely susceptible to buying weird shit AND incredibly stingy (every gift she ever gave a grandchild for holidays was from the dollar store, and yet she'd bought what was undeniably thousands of dollars' worth of fake pills). she had picked up weird self defense tools and bogus q-anon-adjacent shit and had even bought a HANDGUN, like she would even survive the recoil if she pulled the trigger.

This is to say: she had odd spending habits AND odd gifting habits. I ended up finding a few thousand dollars in loose cash hidden in the strangest hidey-holes of that house. [I still maintain I should have pocketed that money as payback for finding the "marriage = one man + one woman" pin in her basement.]

anyways, I bring this up because today, to fill out my mail-in ballot, I looked at my container of pens and smiled to myself as I chose the stupidly heavy, hilariously "tactical"-looking, sharp-ended "self defense pen" she bought me when I went away to college

(because of course my very safe college was where I was going to get murdered, and to protect myself I definitely needed a really heavy pen)

and I used that pen she bought me to vote for a pro-lgbt, pro-universal healthcare, pro-weed democrat lol

take that, grandma

[georgiapeach30513]

Wendy better loose custody of Able or so fucking help me…

Well....let's take a lot into Emy's session with Abel, and see exactly what she's doing to her son, and why he's so concerned with this window...

🖤🖤🖤🖤

What Do You Think?

Summary: Emy talks with Abel

Pairings: Curtis X Eva, Emy X Abel, courtroom

Rating: mild

Warnings: language, a bit about Wendy 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  1.7K

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

Posie Rogers Masterlist

“Dad!” Eva shouts at her father as he starts accessing his gear.  “Dad, look at me!”

“We’re at work.  I’m sheriff Everett,” he only gives her a moment of a glance before he’s back to fidgeting around with his gear.  Pissed off and ready to leave.

“Sheriff Everett, you need to take it down a few notches,” He stares down at her a moment, before he starts to stalk away.  With one shuffle of her foot, Eva stands in the doorway.  “Eva, move.”

“You need a clear mind.”

“Really?  Your cousin’s birth control was tampered with, and the only people that had access to those pills were Jax, Posie, Opie, and everyone at that pharmacy.  The pharmacy where a former junkie, and the mother of Jax’s son works.  Now, I’m not a genius, but what does any of those people besides that vile woman have to gain from this?” Eva stares blankly at Curtis but doesn’t move.  “That’s what I thought.  Now move.  We’re making an arrest.  Evaluna Blaze, get out of my fucking way, and do your god damn job.”

“You’re gonna listen to me.”

“No.  She took the right to decide from Posie and Jax.  Posie and Jax may be happy, but they had every right to wait for their time to decide this.  That is your cousin.  A girl we have watched grow up.  She didn’t deserve this.”

“And she’s not her!” Curtis takes a step back looking at his daughter.  “She’s not her grandmother.  This is a different scenario.  I’m not denying that this is shitty.  Wrong in so many ways, but don’t go putting your emotions of a past case on this.  It’s different, is all I’m saying.  You need to be level headed.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve seen the case file.  It’s horrific.  This isn’t that.  Jax hasn’t abused her.  They’re in love, and when we arrest this bitch, Iris and Matt will build a case around her to put her away.”

“You have no idea what the MC is capable of.”

“And have you not been keeping up with our informant, huh?  They’re crumbling because of Gemma and Clay.”

Curtis takes a deep breath looking at his daughter.  Reminding him so much of himself, “And if we can’t put her away?”

“Well, I may need to chop some wood.”

__

“What the hell?” the young tech answers, stepping away from the counter when the sheriff’s department comes in.  

“Wendy Case?”

“She’s out back smoking,” her brown eyes go in between all the officers. Slowly backing away from the register with her hands raised, “Am I in trouble?”

“What’s going…” the pharmacist stops in his tracks staring at Eva. “On?”

“The sheriff is making an arrest on your employee. Here’s the warrant, I need you two to move aside. I need all video footage you have from the last year. I need the file of Posie Sarah Rogers, and I need to speak with the both of you about interactions between Wendy and Miss Rogers.”

“Ma’am, um uh, Wendy never dealt with her,” the younger girl answers. “She always made an excuse to go smoke.”

“What was Posie picking up?”

“Always birth con…” 

“That is a violation.  We can not tell you that.”

Eva slaps an evidence bag of pills on the counter, her eyes rolling between the two. “Read the warrant.  We have the right to seize all information on Miss Rogers.  These were purchased here.  Do you know your employee?”

“Officer what’s going on?”

“These pills are useless. They’re sugar pills.”

“I-I-I…no, we don’t do that here,” the pharmacist responds. His head shaking rapidly. “Those are…no, did she not take them correctly?”

“They were tested. Posie said something about a three month supply?”

“We did away with that offer over a year ago,” he looks at his tech, who only shrugs. “What’s going on?”

“These two need to come down to the station. Wendy is under arrest. Get CPS to back off because his father was just granted full temporary custody.”

________________________________________________________________

Emy watches Abel slowly play with a few toys. Mostly just observing him for a moment. Letting him think, hoping he speaks to her. “Your Posie’s aunt?”

“I am. Her dad is my brother.”

“I’m gonna be a brother,” those bright blue eyes roll up to look at Emy and he gives her a kind smile. “There’s a baby in Posie’s belly. I heard my mama talking about it to that woman.”

“What woman?”

“The one who works at the garage. Mom makes me go there,” his fingers play with the toy a bit longer before he gets up fetching something else. “Oh, was I supposed to ask?”

“You’re fine. Did Posie and your dad tell you she was having a baby?” without looking up from his toys Abel shakes his head no. He blows a puff of air out before knocking each toy down one by one. Completely focused on the toys in front of him.

“How did your mom know she was pregnant?”

“She saw her belly.”

“When?” Abel shakes his head, but looks up at Emy nearly scared. “What’s wrong?”

Leaning over the table towards her, he whispers quietly, “It’s mama’s secret. I’m usually sleeping.”

“Where?”

“The car,” Emy looks over to the window seeing Joshua standing there, before he closes the blinds and pushes Iris back.

“Why are you sleeping in the car?”

“Daddy, he smokes, but Posie doesn’t like him to be away from her, so he smokes outside the window on the stairs.”

“The fire escape?” Abel nods his head, and gets excited when Emy hands him crayons and paper.

“Mama said she’s trying to get daddy to smoking. But when I’m there I don’t hear her voice. I told him to lock the window. We went to daddy’s one day, and Posie’s car wasn’t there.”

“Did she go to the door like you do?” Abel shakes his head and continues drawing. “She uses the fire escape?”

“Yeah. She said that the neighbors dog tried to bite her. But this is a secret.”

“Abel, do you want your mom going through Posie and your dad’s window?”

“No. Can I…is it okay if I call Posie mom?”

“What do you think?”

Abel looks up at Emy and smiles again, before returning to his drawing, “She sings to me at night. And she’s busy but always spends time with me. Her and daddy took me to the zoo and to see the fish, and Papa makes me ice cream with special sprinkles. Kitty, she lets me bake cookies with her and Posie. And Grumpy, he he lets me sit in his lap with Poppy and we watch a movie until he starts snoring. And Lovie she lets me walk the dogs, and I help her clean up. I don’t do that with mama. There’s a lot of kids. Do you have kids too?” Emy gives him a single nod, her finger playing with her rings.

“Daddy, he got Posie a ring. But I can’t say that. It’s a secret, too. Is mama in the bad place because she did bad things?”

“What things did she do that was bad?”

Abel shrugs, finishing up a crude drawing of some bunnies, before picking up a book. “It’s not nice to sit in other people’s window. We were trying to catch up with Posie the other day. Mama said Posie was going too fast and they wouldn’t let her at Posie’s school, but I’ve been there with Posie and dad.  It’s pretty.”

“You were trying to catch up to Posie?”

“Yeah, in her car.  Posie was going to fast.”

“Abel, our time is up here buddy. You did good. Thank you for being honest.”

“Can I…I wanna meet your kid. Is it Posie’s aunt?”

Picking up the toys she gives him a calm smile, “They’re Posie’s cousins.”

________________________________________________________________

“Miss Rogers?” the defense attorney sweetly says as she walks up closer to the podium, leaving Emy to glare at her.

“Mrs. Barnes.”

“I apologize Mrs. Barnes. What is your relation, in regards to a Miss Posie Rogers?”

Emy turns to look at her, her green eyes shining at Mrs. England. “You called me by my maiden name, so I assume you already know.”

“For the record, Mrs. Barnes. What is your relation to Miss Rogers?”

“She’s my niece.”

“From your half brother?” Emy grits her teeth looking at the lawyer but nods her head. “How close would you say the two of you are?”

“Miss Rogers was the only child in our families for twelve years. She was…”

“Objection,” Matt speaks out looking up at Judge Stark. “Relevance.”

“Just establishing relation of your client and the witness. The client that is intent on getting full custody of my client’s son.”

Matt stands up, his body facing towards Marilyn England, “Let the record show that Miss Rogers and Mr. Teller aren’t married, and neither were seeking full custody of his child. They’re seeking safety for a four-year-old little boy who’s mother is parading him around during all hours of the day and night so she can spy on Mr. Teller and Miss Rogers, while Miss Case and Mr. Teller’s son is in the car. That speaks not only to her parenting skills, but also the safety of my clients.”

“How did you obtain that evidence? The word of a four-year-old little boy that just found out who his father was? I’m sure he’s confused.”

“Order. Mrs. England, do you have a question for Mrs. Barnes? Or are you and Mr. Murdock going to argue in my courtroom?”

“Your honor, the validity of this evidence…”

“I suggest you look at the evidence presented to you. You called Mrs. Barnes up to the stand,” Judge Stark stares down at the prosecutor. “Mr. Murdock did not call her up. Finish your cross examination.”

Marilyn gives a nod to the judge and is looking back at Emy. “What did your session with Abel tell you?”

“He’s worried about a young lady he views as more of his mother. Asked if he could call her mom. Abel has mentioned on numerous occasions the window in his father’s room, and later found out Ms. Case was standing outside of it.”

“It’s the word of a young boy.”

“Objection,” Matt speaks, as Iris grabs ahold of his thigh. He only grunts once at her grip, and she loosens immediately. “Call in evidence forty-three. A cigarette butt, with Miss Case’s DNA, outside of Mr. Teller’s window. It is not just the word of a young boy, Mrs. England.”

“I’m asking for a recess your honor?”

“What?” Iris blurts out, catching herself immediately.

“I was not made aware of this evidence.”

“Mrs. England, everything was submitted in a proper amount of time. It is not Mr. Murdock’s fault you chose not to review everything. I’ll grant you a recess, but come back prepared.”

Masterlist

[kikis-writing-world]

Passing the Test

Summary: Marcus finds a used pregnancy test in the bathroom trash... but it isn’t yours.

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x F!Reader, heavily familiar relationship between teenage Missy and Reader.

Word Count: 2.6k plus ~500 bonus scene

Rating/Warnings: Non-explicit talk of sex (parent/child safe sex discussion,) Pregnancy scares, discussions of having children, mentions of birth control, pills and doctors. Fainting. It’s tame in the sense of content rating, but I know these can be triggering topics to some. Take care of yourselves <3

It was a simple, normal Sunday morning… right up until it wasn’t.

Breakfast was wrapping up. Missy was picking at her plate, slowly finishing up her waffles as her teenage brain woke-up. Marcus had finished quickly, starving after his early morning run. You’d already eaten and were already started on washing up. Marcus dropped his plate off with you at the sink, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he thanked you for breakfast before taking off towards the bathroom to shower.

You didn’t hear the shower turn on as you expected, instead hearing Marcus making his way back down the hall to the kitchen.

“Uh… sweetheart? W-what’s this?” Your brow furrowed as you looked over your shoulder to see what your husband was talking about. His voice was small, almost panicked, and you didn’t know what would cause him to have that reaction. He was the one in the house who killed any bugs that showed up and you’d never had a rodent problem. You were wondering what he could have found in the bathroom until you saw the plastic stick he was holding.

Your breath caught in your throat, immediately recognizing the pregnancy test. As a woman, you’d taken them before. Accidents happen, sometimes stress or illness delays nature’s flow, you’d been there. However, you hadn’t been there recently.

You glanced at Missy, seeing it written all over the girl’s face. She was frozen, mortified. She looked like she’d forgotten how to breathe. To be fair, you felt like you’d forgotten how to breathe too. You looked back at Marcus, but his eyes had never left you. The loving, doting father hadn’t even considered the other option in front of him and honestly you didn’t know if you could break the news to him.

“Oh, uh.” You stuttered as you tried to wrap your brain around all the new information thrown your way.

Missy was sexually active. She was 17, it wasn’t surprising, but she hadn’t brought it up. You weren’t sure you had expected her to but you had tried to make it clear as she grew that you would be there for her if she needed a woman to talk to instead of her father. Not only was she having sex, but she’d had a scare. Was she late? Did the condom break - please lord, you prayed, let her be using condoms. Was she… You were too young to be a grandmother. A step-grandmother. Was that even a thing?

As you processed everything, Marcus crossed the kitchen to you while Missy had slunk down in her chair about as low as she could go.

“Did you think... “ He trailed off, his voice soft. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You opened and closed your mouth, looking for the right way to answer this. You hadn’t said anything because you’d had no idea someone in the house had taken a test!

“I wasn’t sure.” You mumbled, mouth going dry as you didn’t correct his assumption. One step at a time.

First, find out what the result of that test is.

Second, have a long, long, long talk with Missy about many, many things. Safe sex and hiding things we don’t want to be found among them.

Third… make brain work again? You had no idea where to go from there, but you supposed step three would become clear from the results of steps one and two.

Then, there was the issue literally staring you in the face. Marcus. The two of you had talked about children earlier on in the relationship as things grew serious. He told you that he wasn’t ready for more and you accepted that. You loved Missy and loved having a piece of her to share as you three became a family unit. The topic never came up again, so you just assumed Marcus didn’t want another child. You’d stayed on the pill and that was that. You always thought that if he changed his mind, he’d bring it up. It wasn’t something hidden. He saw your pack of pills on the nightstand that you took daily, and you’d even mentioned aloud a few times when you needed to get them refilled. There was plenty of opportunity for him to bring it up if he thought maybe you should go off them.

“You still could have talked to me. I would have sat with you or something.” Marcus told you, setting the test down on the counter to take both of your hands in his. 

You stared at the little piece of plastic, mentally thanking whoever was listening that Missy had splurged for the digital type. The word “negative’ sprawled on the screen, and you didn’t have to try to subtly decipher whether you were hoping for one line or two. You felt like you could breathe again.

“It wasn’t a big deal.” You shook your head. “Just late, wanted to make sure.”

You saw Missy gaping at you out of the corner of your eye, clearly surprised you were taking the fall for her.

“How did you feel? About the result?” He asked gently, this thumb stroking the back of your hand. 

“Maybe we should talk about this later,” you suggested, letting your eyes shoot in the direction of the teenager at the table, hoping Marcus would get that you’d rather talk in private. You’d also rather have a bit of time to wrap your head around everything that was just dropped on you.

Marcus’ eyes moved with yours, seeing Missy slumped in her seat making herself as small as possible. “Okay. We’ll talk later.” He promised, kissing your forehead.

You nodded in agreement and he squeezed your hands before letting them drop. As he left to take that shower, the tension in the room was palpable.

Missy started to speak but you shushed her, raising a finger in her direction while still watching down the hallway. “Wait til he starts the shower. Then we’ll talk.” You instructed quietly, glancing her way. 

Part of you felt bad for the girl, she looked absolutely mortified - and you’d seen her look plenty embarrassed before by her father’s helicopter parenting and bad jokes. On the other hand however, if she was old enough to need that test, she’d have to take this talk like an adult.

Neither of you moved until the shower started. As soon as you heard the water in the pipes, you marched to the table and sat next to her.

“I’m sorry-”

“What’s going on, Missy?” You interrupted the girl’s plea. “Don’t you dare lie to me after I covered for you with your dad. Why did you take that test?”

She stared down at the tabletop, blinking rapidly as she fought the tears welling in her eyes. “I’m late.” She admitted.

“How late?”

“Just a few days.”

“And how long have you been having sex for?”

She looked up at you, face turning red.

“No, no, no.” You chided. “You want to act grown, we’re gonna talk like you’re grown. How long?”

“Couple of months.” She mumbled, shrugging as she avoided looking you in the eye.

“Are you being safe? Condoms, birth control?”

“Condoms.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank god.”

“I’m not stupid, you know.” She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Oh, I beg to differ.” You huffed. “If you were smart you would have hidden that test so your dad didn’t find it.”

“I’m sorry!” She cried, tightening her grip on herself. “I was just so relieved it came out negative, I didn’t think...”

You took a deep breath, rubbing the bridge of your nose. You knew you needed to be smart about how you talked to Missy. If you were too harsh, she wouldn’t come to you in the future. If you were too lenient, she’d think a pregnancy scare at her age was no big deal and she might continue to be careless.

“Missy,” you started. “I really wish you would have come to me about this.”

“I didn’t want you to get mad. Or tell dad.” She admitted, still staring down at the table.

“You’re lucky he’s a definition himbo.” You joked, trying to lighten the mood.

She shot you a look, brows furrowed. “Nobody says that anymore.” She grumbled, making you sigh. Teenagers.

“That’s not the point.” You shook your head. “Missy, I wouldn’t have gotten mad. I probably would have asked questions, but I would have been there for you, helped you through it. I’ve been there, I know how scary it is.”

Missy nodded as you saw a tear roll down her cheek. You reached over and took her hand in your own.

“Did you only take one test?” You asked, which she answered with a nod.

“Okay. I’ll go out later today to get another, just so we can be sure. Then Monday I think we should make an appointment about getting on you some form of birth control.” You planned.

“There’s more than one kind?” Missy mumbled.

“Oh hon, yeah there’s a few.” You smiled gently, trying not to make fun of the girl for her lack of knowledge. “I can see if my doctor has an opening if you want, she’s really great.”

Missy nodded. You reached over with your free hand to rub her arm comfortingly. “Until we get that sorted, can you try to… hold off for a bit?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” She rolled her eyes, wiping away her tears. “This whole thing kinda scared me off of... it.”

“I wish that would last,” you chuckled, “but it won’t. Teenage hormones suck.”

The silence that settled between you two wasn’t wrought with the same tension as before. The tension this time was of nerves, you scared for your step-daughter and Missy shaken up by her whole ordeal.

“Do you have any questions, anything you’re confused about?” You prompted, trying to open the floor to her.

“Are you gonna tell Dad?” She asked quietly. So quietly you almost didn’t hear her.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as you tried to think about it. One on hand, you didn’t want to be keeping anything from Marcus, especially when it came to his daughter. On the other hand, you knew you were lucky your mother had been around to deal with this part of your life. You would have been mortified having to go to your father for sex stuff.

“I won’t tell him,” you decided. The relief in the teen’s eyes was palpable, and she looked like she was going to cry again. “But you have to promise me that you’ll talk to an adult about things like this. You can always come to me, but if you’re not comfortable with that-”

“No, now that I know you’re not gonna tell dad-” Missy started, but you cut her off firmly but gently.

“Let me finish. I’m glad you’re comfortable talking to me now, but if you ever aren’t, please talk to your Abuela or the doctor, or a counsellor at school, okay? I know you’re 17 and you think you know everything. I was the same way, everyone is at your age, but an adult can help you with this stuff, okay?”

Missy agreed as the two of you heard the shower shut off. You fought the urge to sigh as you remembered the other side of this coin: the conversation you had to have with Marcus now.

“Why don’t you go clean up?” You offered, wiping away the rest of Missy’s tears with your thumb. “I’m already lying to your father for you, I don’t need to explain to him why you were crying too.”

Missy laughed a little at that, a small pitiful laugh but a laugh all the same. She stood, wrapping her arms around you. You were surprised, but you returned the hug.

“Thank you.” She whispered before running off to her room. The door closed behind her and it didn’t take long for loud music to start playing.

You slumped down, resting your head in your hands as you took several deep breaths. You gave yourself a pep talk in your head, convincing yourself you’re doing the right thing by keeping this from Marcus, and encouraging yourself that you handled the situation well. You went over the plan again in your head, pretty sure you had your bases covered to take care of Missy in light of the scare. Once you’d gotten her in with the doctor, you’d have a more in depth talk with her about safe sex and being responsible with her body.

You heard Marcus’ footsteps, soft against the carpet of the hallway carpet, before he paused at the entrance to the kitchen.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He asked, coming up to rest his hands on your shoulders.

“Yeah, I think I just feel a headache coming on.” You told him, which wasn’t untrue. You could definitely feel the beginnings of a stress headache prickling at the edges of your consciousness.

Marcus’ large hands started massaging your shoulders, making you groan softly in delight.

“Is it because…” He trailed off, but he didn’t need to continue for you to know he meant the test. He’d probably been thinking about it the whole time he was in the shower, and it was probably best to get this conversation out of the way rather than to let it fester. You nodded, letting him know it was - which wasn’t a lie.

His hands stopped massaging your shoulders, running up and down your arms a few times before he sat next to you in the chair Missy had just vacated.

“I’m sorry you went through that alone,” he started, taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. It made you smile at his sweetness.

“It was my choice. I’m sorry I kept it from you.” You knew at this point the two of you were having two different conversations, you were apologizing for keeping Missy’s secret from him but you did truly believe it to be the right decision. At least for now. Maybe someday when she’s older and out of the house, you’d tell him and laugh.

“We’ve never really talked about it. Not since the beginning.” Marcus got a faraway look in his eyes and you knew he was remembering the date you two had been on when the conversation was had.

“Yeah, but that’s okay.” You squeezed his hand, bringing him back to the now. “I like what we have.”

Marcus frowned, his deep brown eyes filled with worry not unlike Missy’s had been minutes before. “Are you sure? I saw the test and… I just suddenly felt like I was holding you back. If that’s something you want, we should discuss it.”

“And if it was something I felt strongly about, I would have brought it up.” You promised him. You knew right from the start of your relationship he was worried about holding you back. You were younger than him with the world at your feet. He was a widowed single father with a young daughter and a career in fighting supervillains and aliens. He didn’t just have baggage, he had a storage locker of issues.

“Alright.” Marcus sighed, but you could still see the trepidation in his eyes. You smiled at him, pulling him into a kiss.

“Don’t worry babe, I don’t think I could handle another teenager.” You teased. Today was probably one of the most difficult moments you’d had as a step-mother aside from the initial growing pains of your relationship with Missy, but you’d all survived it.

Marcus laughed and you were happy to see a joyful sparkle replace the worry in his eyes. “Yeah, tell me about it.” He glanced towards Missy’s room where her loud music was still blaring. He shook his head before standing, picking up Missy’s abandoned plate. You expected him to take it to the sink but he stopped behind you, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Although, they’re really stinkin’ adorable when they’re babies.” He confessed, shocking you into silence. He kissed the side of your head and moved to the sink to wash Missy’s plate.

Or it could have gone something like this...

You were sitting at the edge of your bed, stretching as you woke up for the day. Marcus had opened the curtains a crack before he left for his run and you could see it was going to be a beautiful day out. You stood slowly, unrolling your spine as you got your balance.

You heard the front door open and close. You must have slept in later than you’d meant to since you usually had breakfast ready by the time Marcus got back from his run. Or he’d left earlier than usual. Either way, that just meant he could shower while you were cooking. You blinked your bleary eyes as you crossed to your dresser for some lounge clothes to wear. You were in one of Marcus’ old t-shirts and your underwear and figured you’d at least put some pants on before leaving the room.

You could hear him through the hall as he made his way to the bathroom, his footsteps falling a little heavier on the carpet after exerting himself, still panting lightly. You yawned away the sleep, struggling to keep your balance as you pulled a pair of plaid shorts up your legs. You’d just gotten them over your hips when the door opened.

You looked up, seeing Marcus still sweaty and flushed from his run. He was staring at something in his hand looking completely confused. You furrowed your brows, trying to focus on the small object as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

“Uh… sweetheart? W-what’s this?” He asked, holding it up for you to see. It took you a moment to register what the thin stick of plastic was.

“That’s not mine.” You defended. You were on the pill and hadn’t had any recent scares. If you had, you would have shared that with Marcus. But if it wasn’t yours...

Your eyes widened as your sleep-addled brain caught up to the real world. It felt like your heart stopped. Marcus seemed to have made the connection just before you did as he stared down at the test in terror.

“Marcus sweetie, it’s probably not what we think,” you tried to calm him as he turned bright red.

“No. N-no, no, no.” He stuttered, unable to take his eyes off it as his breathing started coming quicker and quicker.

“Marcus, you need to breathe. Relax.” You begged as you watched the emotions crossing his face at a dizzying pace. Fear, anger, confusion, hurt, anger again-

“Missy?” He squeaked pathetically, looking up at you in panic.

“She’s not a kid anymore, Marcus.” You offered pathetically. You knew Marcus would always see Missy as his little girl despite the fact that she was in her late teens. You’d had no idea she was sexually active but if she’d taken a pregnancy test that pretty much spoke for itself.

“But she-” He whimpered, shaking his head as he stared at the test. 

You bit your lip, searching for the words to help him accept this. You hadn’t even seen the test result yet, so you had no idea how big the problem was about to be.

You watched as his eyes unfocussed, nearly crossing before they rolled back. If you were awake, you would have anticipated what happened next. Since you weren’t, you watched helplessly as Marcus face planted in front of you, passed out from the shock of his teenage daughter taking a pregnancy test.

So much for a relaxing Sunday.

A/N: I ended the “first ending” there so that each reader could decide if the conversation that followed would be “wait, we want kids? Let’s go!” or “Haha, babies can be cute as long as they’re not mine!” So feel free to let your imagination wander.

Tagging @wickedfrsgrl​ @din-damn-djarin​ @dinthisisthe-wayson​ @vonschweetz​ @insideafictionaluniverse​ @driedgreentomatoes​ @computeringturtle​

[missymurphy1985]

The Entanglement (part 9)

Warning - pregnancy / talk of termination / smut

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

"You think, or you know?"

"I'm 2 weeks late... I haven't done a test or anything but I'm always regular as clockwork. Laura I've been on the pill for years, I don't want Daniel's baby!"

"Let's just do a test, let's confirm it, before we make any decisions okay?" She left the room and went into the bathroom, coming back with a box of pregnancy tests.

"Why do you have pregnancy tests?"

"Don't tell anyone but Pad and I have been trying for a while now," she smiled, handing Becky the box and telling her to go and take a test. "I'll make us some tea, yeah?" Becky nodded and did what she needed to do.

Laura was waiting downstairs, she didn't want to rush Becky but it had been nearly 20 minutes. She went upstairs and knocked on Becky's door. Silence. Slowly opening it, she found the room empty, and the window of her ground floor bedroom wide open. Two tests lay on the bed.

Both positive.

Becky sat on the grass, staring at the headstone. A joint one for both her mum and dad alongside her grandparents. She sat in-between them, silently, hoping for a flash of hope it inspiration, some guidance maybe. She wasn't sure how long she'd been there, but the daylight was definitely starting to fade, and with it any heat in her shivering body.

She felt a blanket suddenly wrapping around her shoulders, a small kiss to the top of her head. Looking up, Cillian nodded at her, before backing away towards the bench around fifteen feet away from where she was sitting.

"Sit with me?" She asked, opening the blanket for him to sit behind her, his legs around her as she nestled into his chest. The large blanket wrapped around the two of them as he rocked her slowly back and forth. Her arms wrapped around his.

"How did you find me?"

"When I need to be alone, to think, I go to my grandmother's grave, just over there in the corner. Helps to refocus my mind. I remember you telling me that night we spent in Kerry that you did the same thing. I wanted to give you time, and space, but the darker it got, and colder, I can't have you both out here in this much longer."

"Laura told you?"

"Laura told me. And it's okay. Everything is going to be okay."

They sat together for a while, not saying anything.

"Ready to come home?" He asked.

"Home?"

"Well I can't have you living at Laura's carrying my baby, can I?"

"Cillian..."

"Listen, this is your choice okay. Totally your choice, it's your body. I'm just giving you an option. If you can't go through with it, I understand and I'll support you. However, if you wanted a plan B to consider, my home, and my heart, has room for both of you."

His words melted her. She wasn't expecting him to react this way.

"The baby might be Daniel's Cill.."

"The baby is mine. That's it. End of conversation on that front."

"You'd raise another man's baby?"

"What other man?" He smiled, kissing her cheek.

************************************************************

He'd ordered a Chinese takeaway which was quickly eaten and the empty cartons sitting on his coffee table, and Becky was laying on the sofa with a glass of non alcoholic wine, bought by Cillian on his way home from the cemetery.

Her feet resting in his lap as he rubbed her ankles.

"What do you want to do?" He asked, his heart in his throat.

"I wasn't planning on a baby.. it wasn't in my life plan. He always wanted one, but I kept taking the pill in secret, there was no way I could bring a child into that situation."

"And now?"

"Well, the situation has changed quite dramatically, hasn't it... But it doesn't change the fact that the baby might be his."

"We've already discussed this. There's no part of me that gives a shit about which dick made that baby." Becky nearly choked on her drink from laughing.

"That's one way of putting it I suppose!" He pulled her into his lap and held her waist, chuckling at his own joke.

"I'm serious though - no matter which of us put that baby in there, if you'll let me, I'd like to be the one to raise them. The one to show them how to walk, talk, ride a bike, play games, climb trees, kick a ball. What do you say?" His fingers stroked her stomach lightly, sending a warm feeling coursing through her.

"You want to raise a baby with me?"

"I'd love to raise this baby with you." He cupped her face in his hands and brought his lips to hers. "You're going to look sexy as fuck pregnant too."

"Am I really? Even with stretchmarks and mood swings?" He laughed again.

"Even with all of that."

"I'm not convinced..." He raised an eyebrow at her, along with a sly smirk.

"Need to work on that, don't I..."

His lips met hers again, his hands roaming under her t shirt up to her breasts, moving to her back and unclipping her bra. Within seconds, both the t shirt and bra were removed, along with his, discarded in a pile on the floor next to the sofa.

Her hands began to unbuckle his belt, he hitched his hips up so they could be pushed down, adding to the pile on the floor. She climbed off him, standing in front of him. His hands on her waist, he leaned in and placed small kisses along her abdomen.

"My baby's in there..." He whispered, making her heart swell. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her leggings and pulled them down, her underwear falling with them. She stood in front of him now, completely bare as his eyes devoured her. His hands over her still flat stomach.

"Yep. I'm looking forward to watching this grow with my baby inside you." He hooked one of her legs over his shoulder and his head moved between her legs. His tongue licking against her folds gently, hitting the swollen bud with the tip of his tongue making her knees buckle under him. Cillian held her steady, her hands moving to his hair and tugging at it as her hips grinded against his mouth. It only took a few minutes for her body to start to shake, and he pushed two fingers deep inside to work alongside his tongue on her clit.

"Fuck... Cillian don't stop!" Her hips were moving hard against him - he just kept his tongue in place and allowed her to ride it, still pumping his fingers inside her. Her quick orgasm took her by surprise, everything feeling 10 times more sensitive than normal.

He moved her slowly to lie on her back on the couch, moving between her legs and entering her in one swift movement before she'd fully come down from her high. Her legs wrapped around his back as he pounded into her, the need in him overwhelming. Just imagining her round and full of his seed turned him on immensely, there was no holding him back. Her second orgasm flooded her moments before his, he came hard with a deep grunt, panting as he rode out the waves of his orgasm.

"I love you..." He breathed into her ear, making her bite her lip. Was it too soon? Probably. Did she care? Not a jot. Did she feel the same? The pause made Cillian wince, convinced he'd fucked it up.

"I love you too."

[joyful-soul-collector]

I just need a spot to vent and I don’t feel like doing it in my journal so I’m just gonna do it here. If you want to read, tw for cancer and all the generally upsetting things that come with that

So my. Grandmother, on my dad’s side, is not very great. My siblings and cousin call her Nonnie, and our grandpa we call Papaw. Both of them are pretty religious and also just. Not very smart. Often those two things mash together. 

Anyway, 3 years ago Nonnie noticed she had a lump on her breast. Apparently she hadn’t been to the doctor in years either, not since my father was a kid. Now, if you were most people, you would go to the doctor to see if you had cancer or if it was something else, like maybe a cyst. That seems like the most logical thing to do to me anyways. But no, that’s not what she did. Instead, she looked up alternative ways to treat cancer, and fell on a website that told her if she just changed her diet and took basically snake oil pills, then it would cure her cancer. 

She doesn’t know how to look up things. She doesn’t know how to tell when websites are reputable, it doesn’t matter if it’s riddled with spelling mistakes, or if the doctor she’s looking at isn’t an actual cancer doctor. Papaw doesn’t care that she has cancer, he just says that god is going to take care of her and that if she dies then it must be god’s plan. Just like how apparently him going blind from diabetes is god’s plan. They don’t take any control over their lives. Every bad thing that’s ever happened is because god is teaching them a lesson, or because god has a plan, it’s never that they fucked up. Hell they told my dad that he went deaf in one ear because god was punishing him for becoming an atheist. They don’t fucking care what happens to them, they just blame everything on god. 

I learned last night that Nonnie has stage 4 breast cancer now. Or at least we’re pretty sure, she never actually went to a real doctor to get diagnosed. She has open sores on her chest now, and she says it burns sometimes. It’s either stage 4 or very close to it. And she still believes that eating healthier and putting on a fucking salve will cure her cancer. There’s no fucking cure for stage 4 breast cancer. Not even chemo will help now. 

She never listened to us, not even once. My mother has a Ph.D., her specialty in psychology and the immune system. She wouldn’t even listen to her, not the person with a fucking doctorate. We tried to tell her these sites were lies, we tried to tell her what will happen if she doesn’t get treatment, we tried to take her to a real doctor. Just like we did with my Papaw’s diabetes. Wouldn’t fucking listen. 

So now, she’s just. Going to die. When you get stage 4 generally the last steps are just pain management and trying to make death as easy as possible. Only she apparently doesn’t want to take even ibuprofen if she can so I guess she’s just going to die a horribly painful death then huh? Fucking great. My grandmother is going to die from breast cancer, because she believed that god and fucking primrose oil would save her. My dad is going to lose his mom because she wouldn’t fucking listen to her own family and decided that these bullshit websites knew more than the woman with a fucking doctorate degree. 

I’m not close with Nonnie really. She doesn’t like that I’m trans and she was neglectful to my dad and she’s started drama every time we’ve visited her. But my dad loves her, and he’s going to be heartbroken when she’s gone. So I’m just so fucking angry right now. Why are they like this? Why do all my grandparents have to be fucking awful? I’m so fucking tired of this shit. 

[tsarisfanfiction]

Hey hey!

Could you do 'Shielding the other with their body?' With good old Scott and throwing you for a loop maybe its shielding Jeff?

Stop Him

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst Characters: Jeff, Scott, Gordon

Oooh, some Scott&Jeff.  As it happens, my muse has been lurking in this area a lot recently (we can thank Nutty’s Callisto fic for that) so this ask was perfectly timed!  Hmm, now, what would Scott be shielding Jeff from, and perhaps more importantly, what does Jeff think about this?

...oh, hello, Gordon.  Sneaking in again are we?

Touches Ask Game

Scott was many things.  Jeff might have missed eight years of it, but his mind still overlapped that small, fragile bundle with bright blue eyes and a loud voice with the young man who stood tall and proud at the head of the pack, and all the stages in between.

Right now, Scott - tall, proud, brave adult Scott - was small and fragile against him, and Jeff’s mind was short-circuiting as it tried to correlate the two ideas.  How this had happened. Why it had happened.

Scott was heavy.  Warm and solid but dangerously fragile as he slumped over him and Jeff was the only thing between him and collapse.

This shouldn’t be happening.  This shouldn’t have happened, and Jeff knew he was trembling as his hands came up to his son.  They gripped his shoulders, skipped down his arms, fluttered around his waist before slipping beneath his arms and wrapping around his back.

Warm back. Wet back, and Jeff had never been squeamish, but it was different when it was his son’s blood.  His child’s blood, seeping across his fingers and trickling down his palm, across his wrists.

Scott shouldn’t be bleeding.  Scott shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t have thrown himself into the path of the shrapnel heading straight for Jeff.  Scott shouldn’t have sacrificed himself for his father.

His breath tickled Jeff’s collarbone, a reassurance that he was still alive even though he was slumped over and not moving.  Not pulling himself upright, not standing straight and proud and shrugging it all off as nothing.  Jeff couldn’t see his face; he had no idea if Scott was still conscious.  Something told him he wasn’t.

He hadn’t hesitated to use himself as a shield, and that terrified Jeff.  He’d always been proud of Scott’s selflessness, the way he’d put others’ needs before his own, but now the doubt started creeping in.  Why was Scott so selfless?  How many times had he risked himself to save someone else?  Did he ever put himself first?

Did Scott even realise how precious he was?

There was some bias in Jeff’s opinion, he knew that.  He was his father, of course Scott was one of the most precious things in his world.  But that changed nothing.  Scott was irreplaceable, both in his family and to the world that owed him a debt he’d never acknowledge, and it was irreplaceable young man that Jeff held in his arms, warm liquid trickling down his wrists and leaving lines of fire behind.

“Scott.”  His voice broke and his knees buckled.  It was barely a controlled fall as he sank to his knees, eldest child a ragdoll in his arms.  “No. Scott.”

Once upon a time, Jeff had been a first responder, but there had been eight long years of solitude and as of yet, no recapped training.  Instincts screamed at him to do something, but his mind had gone blank and all he could do was clutch his son to his chest as his own breath juddered with the promise of sobs.

“Why?” he asked, the word spilling from dry, clumsy lips.  “For me-  You-  Scott.”  Scott had his whole life ahead of him.  He shouldn’t be discarding it so easily for a damaged man whose remaining years were numbered.  Not for him.

Scott didn’t respond.  Jeff couldn’t see his face, not when he was clutching him so tightly, but the breath on his skin was still there, still too slow and even for him to be conscious.

A hand landed on his shoulder.  Firm, enough to bruise, and he knew without looking who it was.  There was only one son that didn’t treat him like he was made of glass.

“Dad, you have to let go.”  Virgil was there, too, fussing and trying to get him to relinquish his grip.  “Dad, I can’t stop the bleeding like this.”

The hand on his shoulder lifted, and instead fingers were tugging at his, forcing him to let go.  It hurt, but not as much as his heart did at the sight of Virgil manoeuvring his brother onto a stretcher, compression packs deployed to slow the bleeding as his middle son once again proved he’d inherited his grandmother’s aptitude for healing.

Virgil wasn’t paying him any attention; Jeff understood that.  After all, it was Scott that was hurt, Scott who needed the help, and Scott who his brothers would always look to first.

That had been a bitter pill to swallow once he was home and realised his sons now listened to Scott over him.

The firm hands were back on his shoulder now, and he looked up at the other present son.  Amber eyes were alight with familiar fire - for someone so attuned to water, his eyes could blaze like an inferno.

“You have to stop him.”  Another other son would be offering platitudes - not your fault, he’s always like this, he’ll be fine - but not Gordon.  It wasn’t the first time this topic had come up, but Jeff had always dismissed it.  Scott had just been looking after his brothers like he always did; of course he worried about it, but Scott had always been that way and despite the near-misses, that had been what they were - misses.

Now on the receiving end of Scott’s self-sacrificing nature himself, Gordon’s demands that he get Scott to back off sounded less like a whining child complaining because big brother got in the way again and more like a true fear.  Jeff hated himself for it; he’d forgotten Gordon was all grown up now and wouldn’t be prone to dramatics just for the sake of attention.

How many times had Scott thrown himself in front of his brothers?  How many times had his other sons been in his exact position, terrified that they’d just been the reason that beautiful, precious, young man had breathed his last?

“How?” he rasped.  Scott had been selfless for as long as he could remember; how could some old man past his prime possibly get him to stand aside when he thought he could do something about it?

The raging inferno died down, leaving something a little sad in its place, and Gordon pulled him to his feet, an assistance that also felt like a message.

“You’re his hero,” he said, as though those words didn’t pierce Jeff’s already aching heart and twist it all around.  “If anyone can get through to him, it’s you.”

There was desperation in the words, a plea for Jeff to save his biggest brother from himself.  Jeff wondered how many times the boys had tried to convince Scott themselves.  How many times they’d failed.

He wondered how many times they’d wished he was there to step in.  He wondered if things would have got this bad - and it was bad, how had he never seen that before - if he hadn’t been blasted to the Oort Cloud, leaving behind five traumatised sons.

There were no words he could offer - I’ll talk to him seemed too small, too insignificant for the subject matter at hand - so he swallowed and nodded.  It seemed to be good enough for Gordon.

With his blond son’s help, he stumbled over to the stretcher, looking down at the limp body of his eldest child and reaching out with trembling fingers.  “Oh, Scotty,” he whispered, one hand lacing with Scott’s while the other found dark brown hair stained with grey.  There was no response.

[apoemaday]

To This Day

by Shane Koyczan

When I was a kid I used to think that pork chops and karate chops were the same thing I thought they were both pork chops and because my grandmother thought it was cute and because they were my favourite she let me keep doing it

not really a big deal

one day before I realized fat kids are not designed to climb trees I fell out of a tree and bruised the right side of my body

I didn’t want to tell my grandmother about it because I was afraid I’d get in trouble for playing somewhere that I shouldn’t have been

a few days later the gym teacher noticed the bruise and I got sent to the principal’s office from there I was sent to another small room with a really nice lady who asked me all kinds of questions about my life at home

I saw no reason to lie as far as I was concerned life was pretty good I told her “whenever I’m sad my grandmother gives me karate chops”

this led to a full scale investigation and I was removed from the house for three days until they finally decided to ask how I got the bruises

news of this silly little story quickly spread through the school and I earned my first nickname

pork chop

to this day I hate pork chops

I’m not the only kid who grew up this way surrounded by people who used to say that rhyme about sticks and stones as if broken bones hurt more than the names we got called and we got called them all so we grew up believing no one would ever fall in love with us that we’d be lonely forever that we’d never meet someone to make us feel like the sun was something they built for us in their tool shed so broken heart strings bled the blues as we tried to empty ourselves so we would feel nothing don’t tell me that hurts less than a broken bone that an ingrown life is something surgeons can cut away that there’s no way for it to metastasize

it does

she was eight years old our first day of grade three when she got called ugly we both got moved to the back of the class so we would stop get bombarded by spit balls but the school halls were a battleground where we found ourselves outnumbered day after wretched day we used to stay inside for recess because outside was worse outside we’d have to rehearse running away or learn to stay still like statues giving no clues that we were there in grade five they taped a sign to her desk that read beware of dog

to this day despite a loving husband she doesn’t think she’s beautiful because of a birthmark that takes up a little less than half of her face kids used to say she looks like a wrong answer that someone tried to erase but couldn’t quite get the job done and they’ll never understand that she’s raising two kids whose definition of beauty begins with the word mom because they see her heart before they see her skin that she’s only ever always been amazing

he was a broken branch grafted onto a different family tree adopted but not because his parents opted for a different destiny he was three when he became a mixed drink of one part left alone and two parts tragedy started therapy in 8th grade had a personality made up of tests and pills lived like the uphills were mountains and the downhills were cliffs four fifths suicidal a tidal wave of anti depressants and an adolescence of being called popper one part because of the pills and ninety nine parts because of the cruelty he tried to kill himself in grade ten when a kid who still had his mom and dad had the audacity to tell him “get over it” as if depression is something that can be remedied by any of the contents found in a first aid kit

to this day he is a stick on TNT lit from both ends could describe to you in detail the way the sky bends in the moments before it’s about to fall and despite an army of friends who all call him an inspiration he remains a conversation piece between people who can’t understand sometimes becoming drug free has less to do with addiction and more to do with sanity

we weren’t the only kids who grew up this way to this day kids are still being called names the classics were hey stupid hey spaz seems like each school has an arsenal of names getting updated every year and if a kid breaks in a school and no one around chooses to hear do they make a sound? are they just the background noise of a soundtrack stuck on repeat when people say things like kids can be cruel? every school was a big top circus tent and the pecking order went from acrobats to lion tamers from clowns to carnies all of these were miles ahead of who we were we were freaks lobster claw boys and bearded ladies oddities juggling depression and loneliness playing solitaire spin the bottle trying to kiss the wounded parts of ourselves and heal but at night while the others slept we kept walking the tightrope it was practice and yeah some of us fell

but I want to tell them that all of this shit is just debris leftover when we finally decide to smash all the things we thought we used to be and if you can’t see anything beautiful about yourself get a better mirror look a little closer stare a little longer because there’s something inside you that made you keep trying despite everyone who told you to quit you built a cast around your broken heart and signed it yourself you signed it “they were wrong” because maybe you didn’t belong to a group or a click maybe they decided to pick you last for basketball or everything maybe you used to bring bruises and broken teeth to show and tell but never told because how can you hold your ground if everyone around you wants to bury you beneath it you have to believe that they were wrong

they have to be wrong

why else would we still be here? we grew up learning to cheer on the underdog because we see ourselves in them we stem from a root planted in the belief that we are not what we were called we are not abandoned cars stalled out and sitting empty on a highway and if in some way we are don’t worry we only got out to walk and get gas we are graduating members from the class of fuck off we made it not the faded echoes of voices crying out names will never hurt me

of course they did

but our lives will only ever always continue to be a balancing act that has less to do with pain

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

I would like to take a moment to talk about my Mum. She was born on a summer day in August of 1958, in Virginia. Given the name Rita after her mother, the middle name Theresa after my great grandmother.

My Mum was the middle child for a couple years till my aunt came along. Her family never stayed stationary very long, my Papa, her father was pilot for the Navy, so they were constantly moving. My Mum, never really knew just how much my Aunt loved, but I see it now.

Rita, she had didn’t have it easy growing up, her parents loved her but with my Papa gone a lot, and four children to be raised, a lot fell on my Mum. The burden carried on for years dark memories that haunted my Mum for years, but she hid it well, with a smile that lit up a room, with a gravitational force pulling people in to start a conversation with her, to become her friend. Your problems were her problems, she would stop at nothing to help you fix them.

Her favorite place to ever live was Asbury Park, NJ. She worked on the boardwalk as a teenager in a diner that Bruce Springsteen frequently came and had a cup of coffee. A story my Mum would tell me often, how she didn’t know him, but he knew her name, smiled she fill his cup, her manager asking if she knew who he was. My Uncle would sneak into a concert of his at the Stone Pony, where my Mum fell in love with his music, she would later pass on to me.

My parents met at the persistence of my Aunt, constantly bugging my father to take my Mum on date though they had never met. My dad said it was love at first, my mother, she was smitten. They dated for 6 months before she moved to Hollywood, CA, in search for the sun and warmth. My father, he followed her four months later. They married in front of my fathers parents in a small ceremony on St. Patrick’s 1979, in the Lutheran Church. Four months later they were married in front of all their family in a Catholic wedding though my Papa tried to get them to elope.

In the years that followed things weren’t easy, they lived pinching penny’s, my mum loss babies, and failed adoptions. My mum was blessed with my brother in ‘84, but life just seemed hard to keep going on, but she managed it but barley. I came along on accident in ‘90 and prematurely. I was the oops baby, but often referred to as the miracle baby, the baby no one thought would come or make it.

My mum had a really hard time after my birth, postpartum depression came down hard on her, the thought that she was horrible mother never leaving her, but she still took me to every doctors appointment, held my hand, and loved me to the best of her ability.

I know looking back with my Mum’s server depression, anxiety, and mental state she was the best Mum she could be. I still get moments where I get mad for the moments I watched her walked out the door, the moments she missed out on my life because the pills made her to sleepy, because she was in too much pain, her past was too painful. But she still loved me to the best of her ability. She made our vacations fun, she made each birthday and holiday so special, making sure I felt like a princess for the day, even if it was her birthday. My mum became my best friend.

No one loved my Mum quite like my Dad ever did. They were together 42 years and I used to watch how my dad looked at my Mum as if she hung the moon and how my Dad could bring a smile to her face in the most smallest of ways. The way that they didn’t need to do extravagant things for a date night that just being together was so beautiful to. I loved how they would sit and cuddle on the couch, even after my dad had just worked 12 hours, he would listen to everything my Mum had to say. They had their moments I was sure they were going to call it quits they stuck through it and it made me so happy. It made want to find a love like that, someone who would love me the way my dad loved my mom and the way my Mum loved him.

I lost my Mum in her sleep on April 21st, 2016, 5 years ago this year. Sometimes it literally blows my mind to think she is gone, I was only 25 years old when I lost my Mum. I know many lost their Mum younger, but both my parents mothers were still alive, I always thought I’d be like her sharing my children with her. I still have dreams where she comes home and I get angry and scream at her an all she does is give me her beautiful smile, and when I wake I know she was there visiting me. I think of her day in and day out, how she would have loved this song or this movie. I find her in everyday little things and miss her so terribly.

I wanted to share my Mum with you because my Mum had always been the one to inspire me to write, the one to read, to smile, and keep on living. I wouldn’t be Katy if it weren’t for my Mum.

[adaodinson]

Would she?

Here´s the third part. I´m really excited about this story and insanely happy that some people are actually liking it, thank you so much.

This one has no Spanish words in this one.

Relationship: Marcus Moreno x Fem Mexican reader (it is in English and most of the dialogues are too, her being Mexican is more about the story)

Summary: You have gotten closer to the Morenos as the days pass. One day Missy knocks at your door with a problem and you know you have to help her and then have a talk with Marcus.

Warnings: Age gap, reader is Mexican, swearing, talk about periods.

Part 3

Part 4

You still remembered how you had felt during the first dinner you had with them. A couple of weeks had passed and you had been invited to their house a few more times; you had wanted to invite them to yours but you still had no table where the three of you could eat at, so that would have to wait. You were on college vacations but were working on the project that took you to the city, and you had gotten a job at a coffeeshop on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and on Mondays and Wednesdays you had been hired to work at an H&M store. Your shifts didn´t last too long since they were just summer jobs, but with them and your project you did have a bit of a busy week.

One day, you had finally finished your shift at the coffeeshop and headed home, you had the rest of the evening free and tomorrow was Friday, so you were just gonna relax. You got to your apartment and grabbed a snack to go with the movie you had been wanting to watch, but the second you sat on the couch you heard a desperate knock on your door. While you walked through the hall you heard a voice coming from outside. Your heart froze at the tone of Missy´s voice. She called out your name and spoke.

-I´m sorry to bother you but my dad has been out at an emergency mission since the morning and something happened, I don´t know what to do. I tried calling my grandmother but she is also out for the mission and doesn´t answer her phone, and I don´t know who else I can talk to- she said as you quickly opened the door and hugged her.

-Hey hey it´s alright, you never bother me. Tell me what happened-

She seemed almost embarrassed, for a moment you thought she had done something stupid.

-I went to the bathroom, and when I looked down, my underwear had blood in it. I already put them in water to clean them but I still don´t know why…- She said slowly. You immediately understood what was going on. You would have to have a talk with Marcus and ask him why he hadn´t told Missy anything about this.

You looked at her tenderly and responded.

-Listen, you got your first period. This is normal- As you spoke, she seemed confused but relieved to hear it wasn´t anything serious. You felt your heart drop when you thought about Missy not having a mother to talk to about this, and you knew it would be hard but you had to talk to her.

-I´m sorry that you don´t have your mother around to help you through this whole thing. Unfortunately, the men that know everything about this matter are rare, and I don´t blame your father for not talking to you about this, I understand. I just want you to know that I´m here for you, I´m gonna tell you everything you need to know not just about this, but about anything you need. I know there are other things you might not want to talk to your father about, but I promise you as your friend and as a woman I´ll be here for you. And well, depending on the situation there are things your father doesn´t need to know, but at least on this subject I will talk to him when I see him. Let me grab some things and we´ll go to your house-

Missy nodded quietly and tightened the hug you had her in a bit before letting you go. You invited her in while you went to your room for some pads for her and a few other things you would need.

Once you were in Missy´s room, with an example piece of underwear you explained her how to put the pad on and everything else she needed to know. How there were different things she would go through during her period and what to do when they happened; what not to do, what pills to take for the cramps, what it meant to have her period, etc. It wasn´t awkward at all, Missy understood what you said and acted very maturely.

While she was in the bathroom putting the pad you brought on, you called Marcus. You didn´t care he was on a mission, you wanted to give Missy what your mom had given you when you had gotten your period and you did want to ask Marcus to take her out for dinner.

-Hey Marcus-

-Hi- he said your name with a bit of a confused but quite happy tone that made your heart flip. No, no, focus, this is about Missy.

-Listen, I know you’re on a mission, but I need to tell you something, it’s about Missy- You said seriously and almost felt the smile he had fade away.

-Is everything okay?-

-Missy just got her first period- you said wanting to go straight to the point so that he wouldn´t think Missy was hurt- she came to me about an hour ago worried sick because she found blood on her underwear. She had no idea, so I explained her what she needs to know and I wanted to tell you that I want to do what my mom did for me when I got my period for the first time. I want to take her to buy what she needs, some candy, a few gifts and then take her out for dinner. Is that okay or do you want to come too?- You said almost with one breath wanting to say everything before he could answer.

Marcus wanted to cry. He hadn´t had this amount of mixed feeling in years, he felt terrible that he hadn´t been there for Missy today, he also felt his heart break a little bit at the thought of his daughter not having her mother for this moment. And he even hated himself for not having talked to her about it before. He had always felt he didn´t know enough about periods to have a talk with Missy, and he never expected it to be so sudden and fast. He felt like an idiot. But another part of him wanted to jump through the phone and kiss you. He couldn´t believe what you were doing for his daughter, how you cared so much about her and wanted to give her what your mother had given you.

-Jesus, I don´t even know what to say. I can´t believe I´m not there for her right now- you felt the disappointment in his voice- I´ll head home right now. I´ll pick up hundreds of bags of chocolates and candy for her and for you and when you get back from dinner I´ll be at the house waiting for the both of you. You have no idea how much I appreciate this, thank you so much for talking to her and helping her and of course it´s okay for you to take her out. You have your girl´s night and when you get back I want to talk to the both of you, together and separately-

-Great, I´ll see you later then. And you don´t have to thank me Marcus, I´ll always be there for Missy and for you, I´m happy to do this- You said your goodbyes and hung up as you heard Missy walking your way.

-Okay, I have a surprise for you- You said.

-Really?- Missy asked already excited.

-Well have a girl´s night, I already talked to your father and when we get back he´ll already be here. I´m taking you to buy what you´ll need for your period. Oh, and you´ll choose the restaurant where we´ll have dinner-

Missy´s face lit up and she basically ran for her shoes. In the blink of an eye you were already leaving the supermarket and heading to Missy´s favorite restaurant. The night was incredible, you were amazed at how easy it was to talk to Missy even though she was younger than you. You told her the story of your first period and shared a few embarrassing stories related to it. She told you about her friends and explained their powers while you nodded in excitement and completed her stories with movie references to the abilities she mentioned.

You kept on talking even after you had finished dinner, the manager of the place almost kicked the both of you out because you had already payed and wouldn´t leave. You laughed all the way back to Missy´s house and just as he had promised, when you got there you saw Marcus´ car parked outside. A light on the second floor was on, so you assumed he was upstairs. What neither of you were expecting was the image you found when you walked inside the house.

The kitchen table was covered in things, from a box of doughnuts, to giant chocolate bars, bags of your favorite sour gummies (you had mentioned them one time you talked to Marcus and you couldn´t believe he had remembered), packages of lollypops and hard candy. For a moment you thought Missy was about to faint. She looked at you in shock and slowly spoke to your ear.

-Either my dad lost his freaking mind or he was kidnapped by aliens and replaced by one of them or this is not from him- You didn´t even answer. You knew Marcus from a few weeks, but that was enough to know it was hard for him to buy a single small bag of chips because of his weird thing about junk food. You finally spoke just to agree with Missy, you were genuinely freaking out.

You heard a hard laughter and quick footsteps heading your way, and you turned your gaze at an amused and insanely cute guy losing his breath from laughing so hard.

-You girls think that little of me?-

-Dad, just tell me, should we get you to a hospital or call the other Heroics to find whoever brought this things- The three of you finally exploded in laughter and Marcus almost ran to give his daughter a hug.

-I´m so so sorry for not being here, I´m sorry for not talking to you about it before, I´m really sorry- Your heart flipped at the image, they really loved each other.

-It´s okay dad, I understand, you don´t have to apologize. Now I know what I need and I have someone else that I can turn to- she said with a wide smile turning to you.

Dear God you had promised you wouldn´t cry, but what the hell. You felt tears running down your cheeks and quickly used your hand to wipe them, but Missy noticed them.

She let go of her father and turned to you to give you a hug.

-Thank you for everything, really, thank you- She said softly as you tried your best not to cry your ass out right there. But what you saw when you looked up at Marcus made you almost choke in laughter. His face was red and tears were already running down his cheeks. You didn’t understand how the hell he managed to look insanely cute while crying but also kinda hot.

He laughed at your reaction and cleaned his nose. You let go of Missy and she looked at you and then at your father.

-You are a couple of crying babies you know. Just hug already-

Both Marcus and you basically ran to each other arms and choked in a mixture of crying your eyes out and laughing at each other. You felt the heat coming from Marcus´ embrace and wished to stay like that forever, not knowing he was thinking the exact same thing.

A few minutes later you had all calmed down (mainly Marcus and you) and were now sitting at the couch talking about everything.

Marcus was already regretting having bought all of those things, he said he didn´t even think until he was at the front door with the bags of what he called “sweet poison”, but it was too late, he had already bought it after all.

Missy´s eyes were closing, so Marcus sent her to her bed and promised they would have a talk tomorrow morning. She did as he told her, not without grabbing a couple of bags of candy first, of course.

Once she was gone, Marcus turned to you and started talking.

-I really have no way of thanking you for this. You have no idea how much I appreciate what you did for her-

-As I said- you answered while giggling a bit- you don´t have to thank me, really. I´m happy to do it. We had an amazing time, she is an amazing kid and she´ll grow to be an amazing woman-

You stared into each other´s eyes for what felt like ages. It wasn´t an awkward moment, in fact, you had never had an awkward silence with Marcus, you were always either talking or lovingly staring at each other like the couple of idiots you were.

He didn´t think, for the second time today he just didn´t. Before he knew his hand were cupping your face and he was pressing his lips against yours. You could have melted right there, at the spot, but you were in too much of a shock for that. You placed your hands on his waist as you slowly closed your eyes deepening the kiss. Both of your breaths mixed perfectly, and your minds were set on making this moment last forever. That was until you parted at the lack of air and opened your eyes wide in surprise at what had just happened. Either of you could believe it.

Marcus´ mind was running a million thoughts per second. Jesus shit what did I just do. She is our neighbor, she is almost half my age, she is a friend, I´ve known her for two weeks. What if I overstepped? If? I sure as hell did. Of course he had had his mind set on you since he met you, he knew it, he thought about you all the time. But never in all his years did he ever think he would act on a situation like this. You were still in college, and even though you were over 21 that didn´t really matter. He didn´t want to ruin your friendship.

You didn´t even know what to think. This gorgeous man that also happens to be the nicest one you had ever met just kissed you. And that was a hell of a kiss. But since when did you let a guy kiss you like that after just two weeks? Everything that the kiss meant was either beautiful or terrible, with no in-between.

You both stood up and you took a few steps back without saying a word. Neither of you knew the other one enough to know what a relationship between the both of you would lead to. Plus, you were friends, neighbors, you were his daughter´s friend. The kiss itself was amazing, you both acknowledged that, but the moment just didn´t feel right. It was that or you were a couple of idiots that couldn´t admit their emotions and were too scared of what dating or having a relationship meant (of course it was the second one).

Both of you then thought. He started the kiss and didn´t stop until he was out of breath. She deepened the kiss and didn´t pull away. You knew this meant something, something good, but either of you was “wild” enough (wild as in the weird definition you both had of the word that meant talking about your freaking emotions) to say anything.

You looked at him with an “I regret nothing but I understand” look, grabbed your things and walked for the door, but before you could go Marcus spoke.

-I´m sorry, I got carried away- He said.

-It´s fine, I understand. Let´s say it was your way of saying thank you- You said as you looked at him with a puzzled gaze. You then smiled at each other, not with a sad smile, more with a “we´ll see where this leads to” smile and you walked back home.

As you closed your door behind you, yours and Marcus´ mind were setting on not letting what had happened make things awkward. In fact, you were sure you could have fun from this before seriously acting on it, you would enjoy this. For once in your life you would let yourselves enjoy the person you had at the other side of the street. You would take things slowly and see what happened. After all, you worked amazingly as friends, you could always go back to that or, well, fall in love like you never ever had done before. We´ll see, the both of you thought, we´ll see.

[nicknellie]

I had Thoughts™️ about Reggie so I wrote them down. A lot of what I say in this post will be me drawing from my own experiences so I’m asking everyone to be respectful when adding to this or giving criticism or whatever.

TW for dementia, specifically Alzheimer’s.

When Reggie was little, until about the age of five, he was really close with his grandfather (on his father’s side)

His grandmother had died long before Reggie was born, so his grandad lived alone

When little Reggie visited or when his grandad babysat him, Reggie would always have the time of his life

His grandad was a talented artist - he and Reggie would paint together, and no matter what Reggie’s end product was his grandad would stick it to the fridge and proudly ruffle Reggie’s hair

Reggie would help his grandad in the garden because caring for his plants was always a comfort to his grandad

His grandad would tell little Reggie stories about all the plants - how the fuchsias were little ballerinas, and toadstools were their homes, and how the dandelions would dance with the daisies and the daffodils

Reggie loved hearing all his grandad’s stories and they always made him giggle

They would play music together too; his grandad had a marvellous old grand piano and although Reggie was more suited to guitar he enjoyed plonking out chords to go with the pieces his grandad would play

One day, when Reggie was six, his father picked him up from school early

They drove straight past Reggie’s house, so Reggie asked where they were going

His father told him very simply, trying not to frighten or worry him, that his grandad had tripped over so they were going to go to the hospital to see if he was alright

Reggie was immediately worried - he didn’t want to see his grandad hurt

They found out that when he fell his grandad had hit his head and hip - his hip was broken and while he was in hospital he needed multiple surgeries all very close to one another in order to keep him alive

He was in hospital for months, having surgery after surgery

The doctors hadn’t thought that the head injury was that serious and they had been correct, but the many surgeries caused some sort of other trauma to Reggie’s grandad

Eventually, he was discharged from hospital and Reggie’s dad bought him a frame to help him walk

As the months and years went by, Reggie started to notice small changes in his grandfather’s behaviour

It started with the smallest things

“Blast,” his grandad would say, “I’ve lost my bloody keys, I bet that awful neighbour stole them!”

And little Reggie, only seven and very confused, would say, “They’re here on the table, grandad.”

And his grandad, usually mild-mannered and very kind to Reggie, would snatch them up off the table and snap, “You probably put them there, trying to hide them from me. Trying to make me look stupid.”

Whenever things like that happened, Reggie would put it down to his grandad being in a bad mood

But things just kept getting worse and Reggie couldn’t understand it

Once, he asked his grandfather to make him a sandwich

“What?” his grandad replied

“A sandwich,” Reggie had repeated, thinking his grandad just hadn’t heard him

He got a blank look in return

“I... a what, son?”

“A sandwich, grandad.”

“I... I don’t know... No, I can’t.”

Reggie hadn’t had an explanation for that one. He got up and made his own sandwich and one for his grandad too, which remained uneaten

Another day, when Reggie was about ten, he and his grandad were going to go on a walk together

“Don’t forget to lock the door, grandad.”

“Lock the door?”

Reggie had turned around to see his grandad stood in the open door, looking utterly bewildered

“Yeah,” Reggie said. “Come outside and lock the door behind you, then we can get going.”

His grandad slowly came outside and shut the door behind him, but then looked to Reggie for help

“Do you have the key, grandad?”

“Of course I’ve got the key.”

He didn’t actually have the key - Reggie had to go back inside to get it and found it on the kitchen table

He came back outside and showed his grandad how to lock the door

“Well, of course I knew how to do that,” his grandad huffed

For the most part, Reggie could ignore it - old people forgot things all the time, right?

And it wasn’t like his grandad forgot everything; they would still paint together and they’d play music and his grandad would tell him all his stories about his garden (maybe just not as eloquently as before)

When Reggie was eleven, his grandad said, “Pass me the television remote, Arthur.”

Reggie had laughed and handed him the remote, saying, “It’s Reggie, grandad. Arthur is my dad.”

Reggie’s grandad had looked bewildered

“Reggie?”

Reggie had nodded, starting to feel concerned

“Yeah, Reggie... I’m your grandson, remember?”

His grandfather hadn’t said he remembered, he had just looked away and got back to changing the TV channel

Similar things kept happening: he would call Reggie ‘Arthur’, or the name of Reggie’s uncle, or what Reggie learned from his father was the name of someone he’d befriended in the war

“Why does grandad get my name wrong?” Reggie had asked when he was twelve

His father had sighed and run a tired hand over his eyes

“He’s got dementia, Reg. Your grandad, he’s going to forget a lot of things. Like names, and how to do easy things, a—”

“And his own family,” Reggie had said, remembering how his grandad hadn’t known who he was

“It’s not easy, Reg. And I’m sorry that he doesn’t always know who you are.”

“How do we fix him?”

His father had looked away - later Reggie would realise that it was because he was crying. “We can’t. There isn’t a cure.”

It had taken Reggie a while to understand what exactly dementia would do to his grandad - it was hard to understand how he didn’t know how to swallow a pill when he could sing entire songs off by heart before the lyrics had even started

Reggie tried to carry on as normal as possible

He learned to respond to the names Arthur, Brian, Oliver, Christopher, Ted, and any other name that wasn’t his own

He learned that when his grandad said “spoon” he actually meant “cup”, which was an easy enough link to get

But sometimes his grandad said “pillow” when what he really meant was “washing machine”, or he’d say “bird” when he really meant “paintbrush” and mistakes like that were harder to unpick; it made communication hard and his grandad would get frustrated when he wasn’t being understood

Reggie was keen to find ways to connect with his grandad, but it all felt bittersweet and painful

His grandad still loved it when they would paint together, but where he’d once been able to create beautiful sweeping landscapes there were now only blotches of dilute colours and the odd shape here and there

They both still loved playing music together, but now his grandad’s fingers would stumble over the piano keys and he’d lose his flow

His grandad could hardly get outside to attend to his garden safely anymore

Reggie’s father started hiring carers to go in every day and look after him

When they were around they would boss Reggie about and tell him not to get in the way

He understood they were just trying to do their job, but he didn’t like the brisk, harsh, matter-of-fact way they handled his grandad

His grandad didn’t deserve that; he deserved patience and kindness and to be helped gently rather than forced

Visiting started to get painful - Reggie would go to his grandad’s house and he would have deteriorated severely even overnight

Conversations had become repetitive and almost impossible - Reggie would answer a question and be asked the same one not a minute later

Reggie visited less and less

He never stopped completely, but sometimes it would hurt so much that he would leave weeks in between visits and his grandfather started to forget him even more

He couldn’t help how much it hurt - he had all those memories of spending time with his grandad, talking and laughing and being loved, and his grandad was losing it all; Reggie was losing his grandad right before his very eyes and there was nothing he could do to stop it or make it easier

He just had to watch as he became less and less like the man Reggie had once known

Reggie tried writing songs about it once Sunset Curve formed

Luke helped him sometimes, but Reggie didn’t like it when he did that - Luke didn’t have the right experiences, so his lyrics were forced and inaccurate and sensationalised and they didn’t show what was really going on

He never managed to finish any songs about his grandad

One day, Reggie was going through some old stuff he’d found under his bed, and came across a box of paintings he must have done with his grandad

One of them was a black background with a white emblem on it, a sweeping line almost like a road

Reggie spent the entire night painting the same thing but on a much bigger backdrop, emblazoning it with the words ‘Sunset Curve’ and adding splashes of colour

He was no artist but he drew upon every technique his grandad had ever taught him and it looked good in the end

He brought it to the next rehearsal, asked the others if they could use it, and they all agreed

When Reggie was fourteen, his grandad was deemed unfit to live at home by himself and was moved into full-time care

He couldn’t take everything when he moved into the home, so Reggie and his parents had to sort through it all

His mother just threw anything away that didn’t seem important; his father kept things with sentimental value; Reggie didn’t want to throw anything out at all

By the end of two weeks, his own bedroom was filled with things he didn’t need but couldn’t bring himself to get rid of: old cigarette cards, a collection of toy cars, a dozen flat caps, a broken walking stick, toys Reggie had played with as a child, hundreds of other items

The magnificent old grand piano now was in Reggie’s living room

Reggie would visit his grandad at the home

His grandad despised living with all the other old people, but the carers were good at making him happy

He liked seeing Reggie even if he didn’t have any idea who he was

Reggie would bring his bass sometimes and have the volume as low as it would go, playing for his grandad in his room

His grandad loved it

Sometimes it could get too much for Reggie to be there - usually a carer would notice and provide him with an excuse to leave or take a breather

It hurt having to leave without saying goodbye, but it saved a lot of pain and confusion

A few days after Reggie’s fifteenth birthday, his dad got a call from the care home

His grandad had fallen again and was in the hospital

Reggie visited with his dad

His grandad was in bed, practically immobile - the doctors said he had broken his hip again

Nobody told Reggie, but it was obvious that recovery was unlikely

His grandad was sent back to the care home to be looked after, but was bed-bound

Reggie visited as much as he could, trying to make up for all the time he had missed when it had been too painful to go

One day, Reggie was shown into his grandad’s room and sat beside his bed as usual

His grandad turned to face him, smiled, and took his hand

“Reggie. It’s so lovely to see you. Thank you for coming to visit me, son.”

It had taken everything in Reggie’s being to stop himself from bursting into tears

He clutched his grandad’s hand tighter and shakily breathed, “Always, grandad. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

There was a pause

“I will miss you,” Reggie whispered

“And I will also miss you.”

That evening, just as the family sat down to eat dinner, they received a call from the care home telling them that Reggie’s grandfather had passed away in his sleep

It was over

Whenever Sunset Curve made money from gigs, Reggie made sure to donate some of his share to dementia charities and the care home that had looked after his grandfather

He tried writing more songs for him, but still couldn’t find the words

Every now and then, he would find a birthday card or something similar that his grandad had written him - his handwriting and spelling had got worse and worse as his dementia had progressed but Reggie’s heart swelled when he read them

‘Dearest Reggie, happy birthday. I love you very much. Grandad.’

Reggie kept that little note with him wherever he went

When Reggie died, he almost hoped he would get to see his grandad again, but he was glad that he didn’t - that meant his grandad had crossed over, which meant that his life had been fulfilled

And for the rest of his life and afterlife, fuchsias remained Reggie’s favourite flower

He would see them dancing on a breeze and hear his grandad’s voice telling him they were beautiful ballerinas who lived in the toadstools

It comforted him on his darkest days

This is a link to a post I made where you can learn more about dementia and donate to Dementia UK and the Alzheimer’s Society.