#i remember when all my american friends came over i had to have everyone try irn bru. i don't think anyone cared much for it

[sciderman]

Hi, last anon about the Pimms here.

Sci I’m so sorry 😭😭 that was all a joke, I didn’t realize it wouldn’t come off that way over text, because I obviously read it back with the tone I had in mind. I wasn’t trying to offend you—sarcasm over text is harder than I anticipated and I should probably make use of /s more.

You don’t have to respond to this—I just wanted to apologize! I didn’t mean to offend, and I did Google it I was just messing with you 😭

PLEASE make use of /s more. i get such mad disrespect in my inbox sometimes you have no idea. no idea. i'd sleep better if more people used /s.

now that you're not my enemy, i'll educate the good people. pimms is an alcoholic drink thats usually served over ice and fruit in the summer with lemon soda

and often served hot in the winter with warm apple juice

and just like ribena, it has it's own winter variant!

i think it's also sold overseas but it's a british invention and just a really big part of british culture, particularly here in the south of england.

and... having done my own research...

glasgow garden party??? with irn bru?? dear god i HAVE to try this. for my heritage.

[wroetominter]

Come back, be here - George Clarke

In which Y/n and George are friends, who live an ocean away and can’t stand the distance.

Pairing: George X Femreader

Warnings: none, flufffff

Cool breeze whipped my hair around as I walked down the streets of New York on my way to the shop on the corner. The January air was crisp and cool, just how I liked it. I had been living in New York since starting my YouTube career a few years back. It was a great city, with many opportunities for career development - usually. I had fallen into the UK YouTube scene quickly, which made my American roots a bit more difficult in my career.

Luckily for me, a lot of my friends loved the city and would frequently visit. Recently George, Max, and Andrew had visited during a brand trip they had been on.

———

"Max! That is so not how that happened!" I yelled at him from across the table.

"That is most certainly how it happened, I remember it clearly!" Everyone at the table erupted in laughter. Max had told a story about me from one of my more recent trips to London. We had been on a night out and I allegedly stood up on the bench we were at in the club and started dancing above everyone, singing at the top of my lungs.

A blush crept to my cheeks, looking at George sat next to me, hoping he would save me from this embarrassment. "Sorry love, that is what happened." I sighed, knowing I could trust his word as he was the sober one that night.

"Well, at least I kept my clothes on." I laughed.

During this all too short trip, we had visited all of the tourist destinations together. The Met, Rockefeller, and a ton of different restaurants and bars.

When it came time to leave, I stood in my apartment with George. Max and Andrew had an earlier flight, and had left a few hours ago.

"I don't want you to leave" I pouted at him. He smile down at me, pulling me closer for a hug.

"I'll be back before you know it, or you'll be in London I'm sure." We pulled back, I still held onto his arms looking up at him.

"I'm going to book a flight now. It sucks being so far away from all of you guys."

"You could always move to London." He raised his eyebrows.

"I could, if I can manage a work visa somehow..." I trailed off, trying to think of how to logistically do this.

"You'll figure it out. Until then, I unfortunately do have to go home." I pouted once again, wrapping my arms around his waist and hugging him tightly.

"I'll miss you." I said softly into his sweater.

He hugged me back tightly, swaying us together. "I'll miss you too, I'll call you when it's morning for you." I shook my head.

"Call me when you land." I said pulling back from his embrace and leaning against my counter.

"Y/n, it'll be 4 in the morning your time when I land." He explained.

"I don't care, call me anyway." He laughed it off, shrugging his jacket on and pulling the handle of his suitcase up. I walked to the door with him, sadly watching as he left. "Bye George, see you soon!" I said. He waved to me as he left, elevator closing down the hall. I felt sad closing the door to my apartment, sitting myself down on the couch.

I always felt a pang in my chest when I left my friends. They had become such a pivotal part of my life in recent months. I sat with my laptop in my lap, browsing the internet trying to research moving to the UK as an American. I sighed, not finding much helpful information. I figured I should just sleep it off and worry about it later, setting my laptop on the table I pulled the blanket over my body and drifted to sleep.

I woke to the sound of my phone ringing on the coffee table, reaching over instantly and seeing George's name.

"Hello!" I answered, trying to be as chipper as I could seeing as I had just woken up.

"I told you I would wake you up." He said laughing. I looked over to the clock to find it was now half 3 in the morning. George had left nearly 10 hours ago at this point.

"It's fine, I wanted you to. How was your flight?" He sighed through the phone.

"Awful to be honest. I miss you." The tone of his voice became really serious with those words.

It wasn't exactly a secret I had become closer to George than the rest of the group. We had so much in common that everything just came easily with him. I had myself fully convinced if there wasn't an entire ocean between us we would likely be dating at this point.

"I know Georgie, I miss you too... I was actually looking into moving to London the second you left my apartment." I admitted.

"I looked into it on flight as well. I talked with my manager and she mentioned that if you're signed with a company abroad you can usually get a work visa for that country. She said she's done it a few times before for some of her American talents." My heart nearly skipped a beat. He had been thinking about it too.

"Aw, you asked for me?"

"Of course. Don't you realize I want to see you more often? Ideally daily if I can". Oh. He was fully flirting with me now. Borderline admitting feelings for me.

"Are you sure you could handle seeing me every day? I fear you would really see how annoying I am at that point" I laughed, part of me knowing it was true.

"You could never annoy me darling. If anything I'm sure my dry jokes would send you running eventually." Darling. Damn, that one hit me right in the chest. "I have to run though, about to get in the uber home. I'll talk to you later, yeah?"

"Of course, I'll call you. Bye bye Georgie" I said.

"Bye love, see you soon."

After we had hung up the phone I flopped onto my back on the couch, feeling my chest swelling with emotion. I want to see him so badly.

———

I had been hiding this from nearly everyone I knew for months. It was eating me alive every second of every day. After George told me his manager had helped people get work visas in the UK, I knew what I had to do.

I had secretly reached out to her, inquiring about how I was to go about this. I urged to her the importance of keeping this a secret from everyone. I wanted to keep it hidden in case something didn't work, I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up.

It had been a whirlwind of emotions, between getting myself signed to their talent management, to the intense amount of paperwork that came with it. I had made it work, and finally received my authorization to move with a work visa.

I coordinated with an estate agent to secure an apartment right away. Having been to London many times, I had already picked out a few areas of the city I wanted to live in. Luckily in this virtual world, I was able to do everything remotely, from my tour to the application process.

Taking a final look around my empty apartment I locked the door, heading to the office to turn in my keys.

I rolled my suitcase behind me, ready to leave my life in New York behind.

———

After my long flight, all I wanted to do was see my new place. I still hadn't told anyone I was in the country, let alone moving there. I had been dodging FaceTime calls from George for the last few days, knowing if I saw his face or heard his voice I would crumble and give in telling him everything.

After collecting my keys for my new apartment, I took a look around at all of the boxes I had shipped here over the last few weeks. It was basically my entire New York apartment, just in boxes.

Now to put my plan into action to tell everyone. I started by unpacking a few essentials, taking a shower and freshening my outfit. I took a selfie in my living room with all of my boxes, making sure that the background was clear in the window, showing off my London city view. After making sure I had everything packed into my crossbody, I locked my door and made my way to George's flat.

I realized that I had to tell someone that I was there, to be able to get into the building. I decided Arthur Hill would be my safest bet. I sent him a text message asking him to let me into the building, as I was there to surprise George. He obliged quickly, and I was granted access to their building.

I felt my nerves building as I reached the door to their flat.

Wiping my clammy hands on my jeans, I knocked on the door. Secretly hoping that George wouldn't answer so I could play out the surprise, and calm my nerves a bit.

Luckily for me, Chris answered the door. "Y/n! What are you doing here?" He exclaimed, immediately pulling me in for a hug.

"Surprise visit! How are you?" He replied with the normal pleasantries, letting me know he had been well. "Is George home?"  I asked him.

"Yes, he's in his room. Let yourself in. Do you want me to film?" He asked. I instantly handed over my phone and nodded.

Waiting for his queue, I walked down the short hallway to George's room, silently turning the knob and opening the door. His back was to me at his desk, headphones in, blocking out sound.

"Hey stranger" I said, immediately pulling his attention from his computer. His eyes lit up and he jumped to his feet, tossing his headphones on the desk and coming to meet me, instantly wrapping his arms around my waist and picking me up in a tight hug, his face nuzzling into my neck.

"How did you know I needed to see you today?" He said softly, his hand stroking my hair softly.

"Just had a feeling I guess." I replied.

Chris stopped the video "you guys are too cute." He handed me back my phone and I thanked him. He excused himself and I directed my attention back to George who hadn't removed his arms from my waist since we had hugged.

"Is this why you've been dodging my calls?" He joked, smirking at me.

"It may have been." I retorted.

I thought for a minute about how to tell him I was here to stay. I considered just showing him the photo but it didn't feel grand enough considering I had just moved across the ocean, essentially for him.

"Take a walk with me?" I asked him.

"Erm, sure?" He finally pulled away, eliciting a pout from me as he grabbed a sweater, pulling it over his body.

We walked together, making the short trip between his flat and mine. He continues to ask me where we were going, and I continued to assure him he would see shortly. I could tell he was frustrated with the answer, but I knew it would be worth it soon enough.

We came to my new door, and he still didn’t seem to be understanding. I could almost visibly see the gears turning in his head as I reached out to unlock the door and stepped in.

He followed suit slowly, looking around the room. He recognized my handwriting on the various moving boxes labeled around the room.

He turned to face me “is this a prank?” He asked me, searching around the room with his eyes, likely looking for a hidden camera.

I shook my head, smiling at him. “Not a prank. I’m here to stay.” A grin broke out on his face and he wrapped me in his arms once again. I let out a sigh, feeling content snuggled into him. The soft smell of cologne lingering on the sweater he was wearing.

Taking me by surprise, his hands brought themselves to my face, cupping each cheek and he pressed his lips to mine in a kiss. I kissed him back, finding myself smiling into the kiss. He pulled back, keeping his forehead pressed to mine.

“You have no idea how long I have been waiting to kiss you.” He admitted. I leaned in, kissing him again, my arms tightening around him as I deepened the kiss.

“I think I have a pretty good idea.” I smiled at him.

London was going to be very good for me.

[sluttery-withoutshame]

I really wanna just say a big thanks to @its-never-over for asking this of me, coz I realised after last nights post that it’s actually good to write down the whole experience in detail and in chronological order to look back on and ensure that it’s never lost to time.

Warning: This is another long arse post!

And try as I might to narrow this story down to two posts, it’s far too epic and part three will come tomorrow.

The afternoon of the first time meeting Eric was the first time he played at the event, as part of the Alive II show, which was a revolving door of musicians involved, Bruce came on first, then Eric. Amazingly, I had been gifted a front row seat at that session, by someone I’d never even met. He’d had to go home coz his wife was sick, and he’d heard I’d come from Australia for the weekend and told the organiser, Neil, to give me his seat. Unbelievable! So, even with the other enjoyable musos performing right in front of me, I did keep one eye on the door, stage left, and soon my vigilance was rewarded.

Probably drinking an energy drink, like he needs the extra energy. Already got his drumsticks in his hand ready to go.

Onto the next meeting Eric story, which happened later that evening after the first autograph session and concert. Our little group had booked in individual photos for what were called the Revenge Photos. This was a package where you got the photo taken, but they printed out a physical photo and had Eric and Bruce autograph it. Despite the fact I don’t want to show my face, I had to share this coz I feel so bad for all but ignoring Bruce! He is a sweetie, but it’s Eric who owns my heart and soul.

Slutty Barbie is not smiling as wide as real me actually was, but I’m sure you can imagine. The autographed version hangs on my wall beside my bed. He felt so soft and warm!

They had a lower level photo experience called Unholy and I wanted to purchase that too so we could get a group photo. The unholy photos weren’t getting autographed, but I really wanted one to remember the experience we all had together of that weekend. And that was so funny coz Eric was in a VERY playful mood. He was all chatty and he ended up yapping to someone in the room and the photographer was getting a little impatient with him, saying “Eric, get back in the photo!” so I took the opportunity to really wrap my arm around him and say “You gotta get in closer!” WHICH HE DID and he felt so cuddly and warm!

I cropped the rest of our group out, coz they don’t need to be associated with my shenanigans unless they want to share on their own. I angled Slutty Barbie in these photos the same as my head, so you can see how much more I snuggled into him in the Unholy photo. You can also look close up to his face and see his tongue coz I think he was still talking when the photo was taken. Then he teased one of the other girls in our group, which was great coz I just stayed beside him with my arm still around him and giggled, like he was my boyfriend playing a trick on my friend. I never thought a M&G photo could be that much fun. When the event is not a gigantic Kiss concert level event, you get to be a little more casual and friendly and not be rushed.

Unrelated to meeting Eric, after the photo I ran into Neil and for some reason he decided to introduce me to one of the comedians there, Hal Sparks, like I was some sort of celebrity or something! Everyone was kinda ushered out and I was in there socialising. I think Neil said to him I’m Australian or something, can’t remember, but then Hal started showing off his Aussie accent, and I’ve never heard an American person who could pull of the accent so well. If I didn’t know better, I would have been fooled into thinking he was an Aussie. I noticed that Lisa Kulick was next to Hal so I had a little chat to her about cookies and pancakes before a security dude spotted me and gently suggested that perhaps it was time for me to move along. I contemplated telling him Neil invited me to stay and chat, but I also had my friends waiting on me, so I bid Hal and Lisa goodbye.

The next day, the performances didn’t happen in the adjacent concert hall in the venue, they’d set up the little stage in the expo hall. So we were hanging out there watching the concerts, scrounging through the expo for any final purchases, and somehow getting gifted 13 new Kiss tshirts. That’s when Eric and Bruce performed a few songs together from Revenge and ESP, which I filmed and you can watch on YouTube.

I just made sure I was enjoying the moment I was in, sitting there on the floor just metres away from Eric Singer playing Revenge songs with Bruce Kulick. It was like going to a party and they were the hired band. It was that intimate.

Then when Eric was done he climbed off the stage with two drumsticks, gave one to a kid who’d performed a couple of songs there, and the second one to me. That’s it. They were the only drumsticks he gave out. It made me think about how many times I’ve looked at that gif at the top of my blog and dreamed it would be me he picked out and asked if I want a drumstick.

And now I know. But under even better circumstances.

[patronsaintofteachercrushes]

9/3

Hi everyone, bet you didn’t expect to hear from me again, but here I am. My last year of high school starts tomorrow and I felt like coming back and saying some things. Some things that I realized and figured could maybe help some of you out there, things that I desperately wanted (needed) to hear when I had an active teacher crush.

This is a long one so please bear with me, I’m not sure any of it really makes any kind of sense. Sorry for any typos.

Firstly, my boyfriend actually broke up with me three days after I last posted. It took me a very long time to get over it, in fact I think I’m still dealing with it. But I wanted to come back and share my experience now that I finally had a taste of what I’d felt like I was missing out on.

Some context: I met my ex almost a whole year before we started dating. It was the 4th of July 2023, and I was still coming to terms with my friend's attachment to L and the fact that I did not have anyone to crush on. I went to the beach with some friends so we could be young and reckless and watch the fireworks and all that good American fun. And then I met him. He was sweet and just cute enough and let me light the fireworks he bought. And nothing happened. I told my friends I thought he was cute and they all said I should go for it but I never did. Until October 2023 when we went to the same Halloween party. He tried talking to me about his car to impress me but I don’t know anything about cars so it didn’t really work, but I still thought he was cute and I tried being near him all night. Again, nothing happened. But I still thought he was cute and all my friends still kept urging me to go for it. In January 2024, he added me on Snapchat and we snapped here and there but still never talked. In April, for my 17th birthday, I was throwing a party, and I was convinced to invite him. It was a whole thing, he came late and only stayed for an hour and the time that I did spend talking to him he told me to fuck off. So I did just that, and I let him go. I was upset, naturally, but our mutual friend was sure he did actually like me so he kept convincing him to reach back out to me. The following month after my birthday party we talked all day every day and by May 26th, we were dating.

So, I had basically the most normal of normal teenage relationships. I wish I could come back here and tell you all that “you’re not missing much.” But that’d be a lie. It was a wonderful, beautiful thing. I miss that feeling very much, the way I felt then was the only thing even halfway parallel to the complete and total rush I’ve felt with older men. So, yes, it is possible to find your fix in other places even though it’s entirely different than you imagined. We cuddled and kissed and held hands and he showed me off to his friends. All my friends were jealous, just like I’d fantasized about. I could say things like “oh my boyfriend loves that!” And “we.” It was all very nice. There was this one time, on our first date, we were walking around the city and it was late on a Friday night, and I had this feeling like all the other couples we passed could tell this was our first date of many more to come. Like they could somehow see through me and him. I don’t remember much of what we’d talked about that night, but I remember also feeling like he was going to be my boyfriend. It was a feeling I’ve never experienced before. With H, of course I’d hoped that we was deviant enough to try and make something out of us, but with my ex, I knew that we would be something. It’s a very strange feeling to know something to be true like that. Ultimately, I think this was one of the major factors of our breakup, the fact that I knew what I wanted and he didn’t.

I thought things would never get any better than this, that I had finally found my person. The women in my family have always found their forevers when they were 17, and I figured I was following suit just like them. Right after he’d asked to be my boyfriend, we explained to each other that we’d both pretty much accepted the fact that we’d never have a high school relationship. We talked about even despite that, we kept praying for one. To me, this was a vow. On June 26th however, he decided he wanted to break up. Basically claiming that he’s too busy and that a relationship isn’t something he wants or needs right now. Which is bullshit and he and I both know it. I’m not sure I’ll ever know his exact reasoning for doing so, but that’s besides the point.

The point is that I did a lot of self reflection in the 2 months we’ve been broken up. Probably more than I have ever done, even more than my reformed thoughts about H. I realized that I do still love older men. I still crave that kind of attention. I still actively seek it out. But it’s different now. I realized that I love the unattainability. I love when things are so far out of reach that I can only stretch and crane and sniff at the ‘what-if’ of it all. I love the security of knowing that it’s not reciprocated, that it cannot be returned. I realized that there is peace in the one-sidedness, because if it never leaves me then I never have to confront it or share it. I can live and love within it. It never has to be anything I don’t want it to be. I can be in control of it.

It’s scary when I know that on the other side, that person is feeling something towards me, and that feeling is now something I do not have any say or power over. It grows and winds through them like the roads of my hometown, familiar and unfamiliar all at once. Familiar because I’ve lived here all my life. And unfamiliar like I’m driving at night and know anything might happen to me. And that feeling inside someone, there’s no guarantee it’s going to stay or look the same way every day, it changes, and I still have no say.

But when it’s with someone who can never feel the way I do, I know exactly how it’ll play out. And it’s rather enjoyable when I know that only I have the cards. It can last for however long I wish it to, there’s no expiration date or trial period. I know that it will be there at the end of the day. I cannot say the same for anyone else’s feelings.

The breakup was so hard on me because he was living, breathing proof that I was capable of being liked. Being seen that way. And it was ripped away from me. I’d finally gotten a taste just for it to all have been for nothing. I’m willing to admit the older men I’ve involved myself with in the past have not liked me that way, I was mysterious and promiscuous and the promise of trouble that they’ve craved since they came into adulthood. I was a sexual desire. I still am that sexual desire to them. I don’t really mind that, it’s a little unfortunate that they’ve never loved me like I’ve loved them, but at the end of the day they’re my own kind of sexual desire too. He was a real person, a real teenage boy who liked me. He validated to me what I had always known deep down, that there wasn’t something horribly wrong within me and that someone out there would want to be with me. Despite it being so fleeting, I owe much of who I am in this moment to him and that relationship.

Seeing as my “roster” cleared just as we entered summer, I had so much time for all the things I had been neglecting. Suddenly I had interest in things again. I remembered how much I liked things like superhero movies and The Doors. I had time to focus on things that weren’t how he (my ex, H, any other man I’ve ever involved myself with) felt about me. It was incredibly freeing. I became a new person and it felt like without my knowledge either because of how long I’d been ignoring it. It was sweet to discover who I’d become since the last time I didn’t have a crush.

But, I really do enjoy and miss having a crush. I like the obsession, how it bleeds into all aspects of my life. It gives me a sense of purpose that I’ve never really experienced before. I don’t really care if it’s “bad” to experience this great longing for someone or something, it gives me something to do that I feel like is worth the time. How wonderful to love so deeply. Who am I to withhold that ? Why should I turn it off or dial it down ? I think there should be love in everything we do, whether it be blaring hot and heavy or a dull murmur, everything we do should be mirrored by the love we feel.

But my crushes have always felt so distinctly different from one another. Partly because they are, an older man and a boy my age, but they are also still two sides of the same coin. When I’d fantasize about H I’d mostly envision a private affair. Spending the weekend in a secluded cabin in the woods. Cooking a meal together and dancing in the kitchen. Talking into the late hours of the night, fucking. Which is not to say that I didn’t picture myself out in public with them, because I did very much wish to have a relationship with H that I didn’t need to hide from anyone and where he didn’t need to keep me a secret, I’d just always pictured that kind of a relationship as personal and intimate. A relationship where I didn’t need to perform, where I could just be me and he could be him and there wasn’t any need for saving face. But because I felt so private about it, it bubbled into something pervasive. It became a compulsive need. I couldn’t control myself around him like I’m usually able to do. And it festered within me, it grew and grew until I no longer had any room for it at all.

By contrast, with teenage boys, my fantasies have always surrounded the appearance to other people. I have always pictured him shaking hands with my father, about him winning his big game and running to find me in the stands and give me a Hollywood kiss. I fantasize about him asking me to a school dance with flowers and a big poster, about all my friends being jealous when they see us or when I post him on social media. But those feelings, those daydreams, they’re all always born out of that craving of normalcy. Whenever I like a boy my age, it’s because I get some misplaced idea that he might like me and I get so excited by this that I take it and run with it until the rose-colored haze dissipates and I’m left with the realization that I’ve spent so much wasted time liking a boy who can never give me what I really desire. But this time it was real, and I could be open about it. And it fizzled out. When my ex and I would kiss, I would feel these tiny little fireworks erupting in my stomach. Kissing him felt like everything that’s good in this world, like puppies and springtime and warm chocolate chip cookies. I’ve kissed my fair share of people, and never has it felt like that. It always felt rushed and hungry, like they were trying to extract something very vital from inside of me. It always felt hot and heavy, especially the times that I’d been with older men. And that was nothing like that. It was light and airy, sort of experimental.

I used to find myself getting very angry that H got to go home and go on with his life while I spiraled out of control and became consumed with thoughts of him. He’d go home to his girlfriend and I came home to a quiet house and an anonymous tumblr blog. I used to find it so extremely unfair, you know ? How come he got to say and do all these things that a teacher shouldn’t and carry on like normal ? How come I was the only one facing the consequences ? How come he got to do this with all his girls ? How come he got to make me feel so much, things I have no name for, no way of describing, and I’d have to just remain his student through it all ? Sit there and take it like a dog with his tail between his legs. I didn’t understand how he got away with it. I still don’t understand how he doesn’t care, how he genuinely couldn’t care less about me. He’ll come back this year and do this same routine over again with another girl just like me and rinse and repeat until he retires. I would get so angry wondering what I would get in return. But I don’t feel that way anymore. I miss it. I miss that feeling. I miss the rage, the hurt, the indescribable yearning, the highest of highs, and lowest of lows. Everything he made me feel, whether knowingly and purposefully or not, I miss. Now I’m mostly just mad that I never understood what he was begging me to know. I’m mad that I pushed him away at all. I’d say I’m mad I even met him, but that’d be a lie too. I don’t regret knowing him, not even a little bit. I don’t regret what I felt, what he made me feel. Even when I felt disgusted by him I never regretted any of it. All the times I screamed no I really was screaming yes.

And now I’m a senior. And I don’t have any male teachers. I did end up having J as my 1st period, but I’m not exactly happy about it. J is confusing. He’s too innocent. There’s absolutely nothing there besides a genuine love for teaching. And while that’s admirable, I don’t think it will grow into something. I don’t have any other male teachers besides that. So I’m really not sure what I’m going to do. I plan on visiting H, but I doubt it will really hold me over. I think what most of us like so much about teachers specifically is that we see them so frequently and it’s a guarantee most of the time. I won’t have that anymore. So, I’m feeling pretty lost. Which I bet is a reallllll shocker. I swear I am always feel confused and torn.

Anyway, I guess maybe what I’m trying to say with all of this is that maybe we’re not crazy for this. I think many of us are here and experiencing these feelings because we were born tilted towards the ‘what-if’ and I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing. I think we’re allowed to feel this way towards others. I think that sometimes this is natural. I mean, I got a taste of what it was like, what we watch everyone around us experience while we remain silent and passive, and I still ended up back here the same as I’ve ever been. So can it really be that wrong ? Is it possible to love someone wrong ? Does any of it really matter in the long run ? That I spent a long time devoting myself to someone despite it not being reciprocated ? How bad can that be ? How can love ever be wrong ? On a basis, I do understand where people are coming from when they make exposés on the teacher crush community, but really, I think they haven’t the faintest fucking clue what this side of tumblr really is.

[wildestdreamcatcher]

The Nuclear Family

Summary: A look into Summer and Lennon's relationship through his perspective

TW: Mentions of grooming, trauma, crying, implied panic attacks

A/N: This story is going to be really long with 1582k words. Boarder found on this website

Everything always seemed perfect. We were like one of the families you saw on my postcards or sitcoms. The poster child for the “American Dream”. Something you only see on TV and movies. My parents were happy with each other, never really argued, and it always felt like they were sickeningly in love. Summer was always seen as the more outgoing one in the family: she made friends easily, very talkative, she was kind, and polite. I remember people at church always used to tell her that she was beautiful; it was like she had this charm over people at a young age. That’s what helped her win over the pageant judges, teachers, the priest, and everyone else around her. Everything shifted so fast when Jake’s true personality was revealed.

Jake was around a lot, my parents were best friends with him, he went to our church and Summer was obsessed with him. Everyone loved him, and some people still defended him after it came out he raped Summer and had been for years. I didn’t mean to see them like that but instead of minding my own business, as she liked to remind me; I saw him kiss her like he was in a fucking rom-com, like she hadn’t just turned 14, like she hadn’t just finished 8th grade a month ago, like he wasn’t 38 years old. I remember when I told my parents, I remember Summer screaming and crying when my parents called the police, how angry she got when she found out he even got prison time at all. She changed completely: she stayed in her room all the unless she had a summer sports practice, had to use the bathroom or get food. 

Everything changed so quickly, nothing was ever normal. We all started doing therapy: family therapy, separate therapy, and my parents were also doing couple’s therapy which might’ve been for the best seeing as how they seemed distant for a few months after what happened with Jake and the stress from the whole situation started to boil over into an otherwise happy marriage. Summer had gotten really into journaling about what happened with Jake and painting to distract herself. She’d never let anyone see them but recently I had started going through them, maybe for once I’d understand her if I did. Her room was forbidden to me: it was neatly decorated with the baby blue and white color scheme, her easels wth unfinished paintings, the shelf of Precious Moments and Barbie dolls she had recently started, the Aqua Net she had always had to replace every month and the hundreds of dollars worth of makeup on her vanity. She had posters of Madonna, Kate Bush, Stevie Nicks, Jon Bon Jovi, and Renaissance paintings covering her walls. I could only dare to step into it when she wasn’t home and pray to God she didn’t catch me going through all her shit. I’d be dead if she did. 

I walked downstairs for breakfast and saw Aria and Kai sitting beside Summer at the table again. One would think it would be a bad idea to have the on and off again boyfriend of your daughter’s best friend always to be around but somehow: Aria and Kai always acted normal when they were here. They didn’t argue or try to make out in Summer’s bedroom and Summer never seemed like she was a third wheel or anything. They had become their own trio ever since Aria became Summer’s only friend and started dating Kai who was friends with Summer too but he had started to distance himself from Jude ever since Jude started getting into drugs and spending all of this time with Mindy. Aria was always here even if Kai wasn’t. She even spent all of Christmas break with us last year. I missed when Summer would always hang out with Roxanne or the girls she used to be friends with at church. They were always nice to me or tried to include me in their plans, they used to take me to the arcade with them all the time but that was back when Summer liked me. When Roxanne and Summer were inseparable, when the people at our all church still liked us and didn’t practically shun us. I just sat there at the table, dreading the car ride to school with the 3 of them. 

I sat there in Summer’s blue Camaro she got for her 16th birthday. I knew she had been saving up for it with her shifts as a waitress and with the money from the dinner, my parents, and both of my grandparents all gave her, she was able to get it for her birthday. I just tried to drown out the conversations the 3 were having with the Duran Duran album in my Walkman. 

When I walked into the school, I noticed Trevor Halton couldn’t keep his eyes off of Summer while she just smiled sadly at him. I read in her diary that they had been dating each other secretly for 5 or 6 months but they split a few weeks ago. She didn’t think she was ready to be in a relationship, no matter how happy she was. I wondered why she would deny herself of that happiness she could’ve had, she ranted about how nice of a guy Trevor was so why would she sabotage that for herself? She caught me staring at her and rolled her eyes, taking books out of her locker. 

Summer and I promised Mom and Dad we would be nicer to each other but she made it so fucking hard. When I got in her car after school, she said she take me to get food and go to the arcade after school. We used to hang out a lot before everything that happened with Jake and younger me would’ve been so thrilled for her to hang out with me. I used to think it would be so cool to have my older sister hang out with me all the time and drive me everywhere but now I just nodded and looked at her skeptically. 

“Why are you being nice to me right now?” I asked her.

“I think I’ve been too harsh on you! Everything has been so hard lately and I don’t want to make this any harder.” She sounded sincere. 

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I actually had fun with Summer with the arcade: she beat my high scores, won us a bunch of gaming tokens and prizes, and taught me all the hacks she learned to beat the games. She bought me dinner and let me into her life a little bit. It felt odd that she was telling me things I’d already known from reading her diary, like I was intruding on something I shouldn’t have known. She was about to leave, I noticed Summer looked nervous when she saw this man get out of his car and he looked just like Jake. The only difference was that his eye color was different. It scared Summer, she started tearing up a little bit, and when she tried to hold the steering wheel when she got into the car her knuckles were white. 

“Summer, I-” 

“Just drop it! Just fucking drop it, Lennon!!” She yelled at me like it was my fault all of this happened. We didn’t talk at all in the car and she just walked into her bedroom, slamming the door. I could hear her cries coming from her bedroom since our rooms were in the same hall. 

When I saw her in the kitchen again after our parents went to bed, I started asking questions. 

“What happened back there, Summer? Jake’s in prison and he’s going to be in there for at least another year!” I tried to sound confronting but she just sounded angry. 

“Do you not fucking get it, Lennon! I thought I was over everything but I’m not! I wanted that to be Jake. I keep having these fantasies in my head that everything wasn’t as fucked as everyone made it seemed, that everything will go back to fucking normal when he gets out of prison and I know-”

“This sounds ridiculous, Summer! Jake was so fucking awful, he ruined everything. This is so delusion! We went through of all your outbursts, all of your meltdowns, the therapy appointments, all of this shit for this not to happen!!” We whisper-yelled at each other in the kitchen, both praying to God Mom and Dad didn’t wake up. I couldn’t understand why she would practically profess love to the man who ruined our lives!

“I don’t know why the fuck I bother trying to get you to understand me! It was stupid for me to waste my money and time on you today because you’re always going to make everything about you!” 

Summer walked away to her bedroom. It didn’t make sense as to why she wanted to be apart of my life now when she couldn't fucking stand me anyway. She was the one who barely interacted with me for a year, she hardly talked to anyone for that matter. Even when we all got together for Christmas, she just distanced herself from everyone except for Mom and Dad. Nothing seemed to please Summer or make her happy no matter how hard anyone tried. All I could do was go back to bed and pray that Summer would leave for college pretty soon.

@sadlonelyyogurt @blowflygrls @cusineverreallyknown

[the-cult-of-russo]

Just Beneath The Flames (Part 14)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Warnings: cursing, smut at some point probably lmao, zombie shit, typical canon violence. You know the drill.

A/N: Okay so for the mini-arc of Reader going on her quest to find the others, I decided to do subheadings for what day she’s on in her journey for each little part. In case you didn’t know already, I’m not from the US, I’m from the UK. American geography is something I know nothing about so I consulted my trusty friend, Google Maps for this to figure out how long it would take walking, how many hours etc. I legit sat there writing down how many hours she’d travel a day, ‘cause she’d need to set up at night to be safe and all that shit, so I worked out what I thought was realistically a good amount of time for her to travel each day, allowing for any shenanigans that might happen along the way. You guys made me do math for you, I hope you're happy loooool

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Day One

It was still dark as you traipsed around the woods, your body and thumping head on high alert as you did. It felt like with every little noise you heard, your hopes would shoot up in hopes it was someone you knew, only to find out it wasn’t. Part of you had started to wonder if you were hallucinating things when you thought you heard someone talking only to find a dead one instead. Last you checked, you were pretty sure the dead couldn't talk. You were a little slower with your navigation with how disorientated you were, trying to remember the way back to the old camp. When you got close enough, you stopped still when you saw the faint glow of a campfire behind the trees, your heart picking up a little. Either your old group was here or a new one had set up, you couldn’t be too sure. With the carnage you’d witnessed not too long before fresh in your mind, you held your knife tighter in your hand as you made your way over. You couldn't hear any talking, not even a faint murmur. The closer you got, the only sounds you heard were the crackling of the fire and sniffling. You tensed a little, moving through the last of the trees to see a figure sitting beside the fire with their head resting on their arms. It wasn't just any figure though and you felt like your heart shattered and then put itself back together in one fell swoop. 

“Billy…” you murmured softly, voice trembling as you felt your eyes prick with tears. Despite your voice being not much more than a whisper, his head shot up, his tearful and shocked face staring at you. For a moment, he didn’t move and just blinked at you looking like he’d seen a ghost and all you could do was stand stock still like a statue as your brain tried to digest that you’d found him. Only him. Where were the others? You wiped your face and the movement seemed to snap him out of his trance as he shot to his feet. He was on you in seconds, his arms wrapping around you so tight, you almost couldn't breathe. 

“Y/N… I-I…” he sobbed brokenly, clutching you like a lifeline as you clung to him too. Your own face was tear stricken and you moved away, hands moving to cup his face as you looked him over. Despite how bad he’d been when you’d had that talk on the back porch that day, you’d never seen the man look so wrecked and devastated, tears cascading down his cheeks in rivulets as he tried to catch his breath.

“What happened?” you asked quietly, dread coating your tone as your thumbs swiped at his tears. He closed his eyes, shaking his head and his hands came to rest over yours on his face. His mouth opened and closed and you had no idea just how bad this was, no idea what he was trying to tell you. He was in no state to say anything though and you carefully guided him to sit back down with you beside him, trying to keep yourself together so you could help him. When you both sat down, he snatched one of your hands, holding it tightly like he had no intention of letting it go and you didn’t really want him to. You might not have found everyone but you'd found Billy and for the most part, he looked okay.

“I thought... I thought you were dead,” he bit out once he got his sobs under control. His voice was raw sounding, his dark eyes shiny and imploring as he stared at you like he thought he’d never see you again. His free hand moved to the blood-stained side of your head and the look he gave you made your heart break and stop altogether. You squeezed his hand and sniffled, wiping your face with your free hand as you shook your head.

“I woke up and it was dark, you guys hadn’t come for me and I couldn't get through on the radio… I went back and I… I saw the cabin. Billy, what happened?” you asked more insistently, you wanted answers, you needed to know. He nodded, seemingly coming back to himself a little more now he was in your presence.

“Me and Frankie were about to set out for you and… the other group just… It was an ambush. We heard the explosion upstairs and before we could do a damn thing, gunfire was tearin’ up the place. They used some kind smoke grenade and we couldn’t see shit. Me and Frank… we were trying to lead the charge and we got Matt to lead the others to the truck from the back, we needed to get ‘em outta there. We managed to push through the front but there was smoke everywhere, bullets flyin’ all over and then-then the dead came. Frank kept screamin’ at me to fall back, tellin’ me we needed to leave but I-I couldn’t. It was like bein’ back overseas all over again. I told him I’d be right there but I couldn’t stop until every fucker was dead. When I was done, the truck was gone, they had to leave. And I don’t know if-if anyone got hit, if they're alright, nothin’... I came here hopin’ they’d come but they ain’t been by yet. I don’t know what's goin’ on,” he rambled with a deep frown and a haunted look on his face.

“They’ll be okay,” you said firmly, making him look at you uncertainly like your words meant the world to him. It made you swallow thickly knowing you were breaking your own rule of not making promises you couldn't keep. But you couldn’t believe otherwise, you refused to think that they hadn’t made it and you sure as fuck needed Billy to stop looking like his world was crashing down around him. 

“Before I came here I… I went and found the gas station you were at. You said you were hurt and you didn’t answer back when I walkied you after and I thought… I got there and the place was full of the dead, a half-eaten corpse on the floor and I thought it was you and I-” he clamped his mouth shut firmly as his tears started again, lowering his head as he shook it lamentingly. 

“After everythin’ that happened, my first thought was you and I needed to get to you. And-And I’d failed. I failed my family and I failed you and I just…” he sobbed, his shoulder shaking and you moved your hand from his to wrap your arms around him. He leaned into you, face pressing into your neck as he grabbed you tightly, his fists bunching in the back of your jacket.

“You didn’t fail anyone, Billy,” you murmured soothingly through the lump wedged in your throat. 

“You coulda died back there… all alone with no one comin’ for you,” he lamented with a sniffle and you stroked his hair, closing your eyes tightly.

“But I didn’t, I’m fine. You had more important shit to be dealing with. None of this is on you,” you frowned and he moved away, shaking his head with a face that told you he didn’t believe you one bit.

“This is on me! You’ve been sayin’ since this new group came up that we should head down to the safe house but me and Frankie were too proud to admit we should leave. We let our goddamn egos get in the way, made all of you stay. This is on me because I shoulda backed you up, shoulda insisted we went down there because it was safer. And now… they got out but it don’t mean they're fine. They could have bled out in the fuckin’ truck for all I know,” he sneered at himself, wiping his face so angrily you were supposed he didn’t punch himself in the face. 

You weren't sure what to say to him to make him feel better when you held the same worries. They could have been hit by a bullet or got bit on their way to the truck, anything could have happened to them. 

“You can blame yourself all you want and I know you will, but I don’t blame you one bit. You did what you thought was best for the group. None of us know what's waiting for us down in Virginia, Billy. We could wind up there with nothing and be at square one all over again. The only people to blame here are the ones that caused this. The ones that were fueled by greed and violence, starting a war for no fucking reason. We can’t make sense of needless violence like that, it’s out of our hands. There's always been evil in the world but it's even worse now it's every man for himself. A wise man once told me to let go of my guilt before it buried me. That bad shit just happens and there's not a damn thing we can do to stop it. That drowning it in won’t help anyone. Those words helped me more than I think he knows and I think you should take that advice,” you insisted, eyes wide and imploring as you looked at him. He blinked at you for a moment, recognition blooming on his face at the fact he was that wise man and that you’d remembered those words he’d told you all that time ago.

“I just… I just feel like I didn’t do enough,” he whispered with a frown and you took his hand once more, making him look to your joined hands.

“I know… Trust me I get that more than anyone. But right now, we need to focus on what we can do, not the shit that's in the past that we can’t change. The others made it out, that we know. They’re out there somewhere. So we wait here until tomorrow and if they don’t turn up, we make our own way down to the safe house because that’s where Frank would go, right?” you asked him, trying to sound like you were taking charge even if you felt like you had no clue what you were doing. He nodded, the movement jerky as he once again wiped his face with his free hand. Trying to keep away from the awful fear gripping you both, you opened your bag and got out a can of mushroom soup, opening it with your pocket knife before handing it to him. He gave you a weary smile before he chugged some of it, handing it back to you for you to have some as you sat by the warmth of the fire. You tried to ignore the burning in your chest at how much you’d lost. Not just the people that you were telling yourself you would definitely find, even if it killed you, but more so the place. The safety, the sense of home. You’d left so much behind back in the cabin and it wounded you deeply to have to start again like this. You felt eyes on you, turning to see Billy watching you with a look you couldn’t place as you finished the soup. It made you feel a little self-conscious as you wiped your mouth with your sleeve.

“When I saw that body in the gas station bein’ fuckin’ munched on by the dead… it felt like someone ripped out my beatin’ heart and stuffed it right into a fuckin’ blender. I haven’t… I haven’t felt that pain since… since Maria and the kids. After the shit that went down at the cabin, all I could think about was you, that if I could find you, it’d all be okay. And then… I couldn’t even bring myself to check the body, I just thought it was you and the world stopped turnin’. And I know the others got out and I know Frank’s a tough son of a bitch, I know even if someone got hurt that he’d make sure they were okay and get ‘em all to safety. But once I thought you were dead, I felt like I’d lost everythin’. I felt like I had nothin’ left and any hope I had for everyone else just… just fuckin’ left me,” he admitted in a murmur and it made your chest ache so fiercely that it felt like it might cave in. You looked away at the weight of his gaze, toying with the empty can in your hands before glancing back at him and he was still watching you intently. 

“I thought you were dead too, I thought all of you were. When I got to the cabin and saw… I was devastated, just absolutely broken. But I knew I had to check, I had to see with my own eyes. I didn’t leave until I checked every body there and each time I turned one over I felt like I might throw up because it could have been you or one of the others. I’m so sick of losing people. I’m sick of grief and guilt and loss and pain. I wanted to give up so badly, I almost did, but I forced myself to get back up. Told myself you had to be out here somewhere and I needed to find you all. That's how I wound up here… with you. And no matter what happens, no matter what we find or don’t find, we have each other,” you replied softly, uncertainty lacing your words. His hand gripped the back of your neck as he pulled you over to him, placing a firm and sweet kiss to your head before his arm snaked around your shoulders and held you to his side. 

“I’m glad you're here,” he breathed, leaning his head on yours.

“I’m glad you're here too,” you smiled, despite it all. 

Day Three

You and Billy got no sleep that first night after how amped up you were. The whole day had been anxiety-inducing as you both waited to see if Frank or the others turned up but no one ever came. You started to think they’d just made their way down to Virginia right from the start and tried to ignore that horrible voice in the back of your head that told you they didn’t come because something bad had happened to them. There were numerous reasons why they could have gone straight to the safe house instead of making a pit stop here. They might have had to flee in the opposite direction and thought it would be too late by the time they got here, they could have just thought it was the best move to make, knowing you or at the very least Billy would know where to find them there. Maybe someone was injured and they had to deal with that first. You really weren’t sure just why they didn’t turn up, but they hadn’t so the next day at first light, you’d shared another can of shitty soup before you headed off out. Billy didn’t have anything on him but luckily, the bag you’d grabbed had a map in it from whoever used it before you. You were grateful because otherwise you’d have to go on a quest to find one and it would eat into your time. The journey would be a long one on foot and it wasn’t like you could both travel solidly with no breaks or rest. Billy had looked at the map and picked a route, one that avoided big cities because neither of you had a death wish. The usual banter you both had was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t exactly strained between you both but the air was heavy, pressing down between the pair of you. Things were still a little too much to deal with. 

“Do you think I could wash up in the creek before we head too far out?” you asked hesitantly. You were still caked in blood and felt gross but you also didn’t want him to snap at you for wanting to be clean more than wanting to find everyone. He looked at you before nodding, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll wash up too,” he murmured. You felt yourself relax that he wasn’t mad. Neither of you knew the next time you’d have the chance to get clean and you didn’t want to walk around with dried and crusted blood tugging at your skin. It was still cold but the cold bite of winter was starting to ease a little. You knew the water would be cold and with nothing to dry yourself, you’d be pretty chilly afterwards but you didn’t mind. It was a shame you didn’t bring any spare clothes, you hated putting dirty ones back on after getting clean. You both took turns much like you had in the past and you longed for the running showers that the cabin had. You hurried to get clean though, ignoring the sting of cold on your skin as you scrubbed yourself clean and then shoved your clothes back on uncomfortably. There were no cheeky remarks or playful comments this time. Billy had stood guard vigilantly and you’d done the same for him once you were done. There wasn’t time for playing around, not anymore. When both of you got clean, you set off on your journey once more. By the time night fell, your feet were on fire and your legs ached. You hadn’t dared ask for a rest and the pair of you shared a can of peaches as you walked earlier to try and keep your energy up. You were worried though. You hadn't packed too much, in a hurry to leave and find the rest of your group. You wondered if part of you hadn't thought you’d find them, you certainly hadn't packed enough food for two and you’d already gone through half of what you had. You were still in the woods and you both set up camp around some trees. It was cold enough for Billy to make a small fire, especially with you both still being damp and the air making it colder, but you were both hyper-aware of not wanting to be seen by anyone. As you both sat in front of the fire, the silence gnawed at you but you really didn’t know what to say. You were both too far in your own heads to hold a decent conversation. 

“You should get some rest,” he murmured after a long while, the pair of you having some more canned peaches for dinner.

“What about you?” you asked pointedly. While yes, you were exhausted, he also looked as tired as you felt. Not only physically, but emotionally. 

“We can take turns. I’ll wake you up after a bit and you can take watch,” he offered and you squinted at him, remembering the last time he’d agreed to that.

“You really better wake me this time, okay? We both need to get some sleep here or we won't get anywhere,” you warned him. He looked at you for a long moment before nodding and you had a feeling he would wake you this time because the matter of finding the others was way more important than him being chivalrous. You’d both been leaning against a large tree and not wanting to stray too far from him, you lay down right next to him, your back pressing against his legs as you lay in the dirt. You didn't have the luxury of a sleeping bag or even a blanket but you curled up, burying your face into your jacket as you closed your eyes and tried to get at least some sleep. Hours later, Billy was gently nudging you awake. It was still dark outside and you were glad he’d woken you up. You yawned before sitting up, rubbing your eyes as you leaned against the tree once more. 

“You sure you don't need more sleep?” he asked as his concerned gaze pinned you in place,

“Get your ass to sleep, Russo,” you muttered, raising a brow at him that had his lips curling up a little. The sight was something to behold and your heart stilled in your chest for a moment.

“Yes, ma’am,” he smirked and you snorted with a roll of your eyes. He lay down much like you had, his back pressed against your legs and you found comfort in being so close to him like this. Your bow and arrows lay at your other side, your knife in your hand as you took guard over him as he slept. You weren’t about to get caught out, weren’t about to let anything happen to him while he slept. He was all you had left. Your eyes burned with how tired you felt but you forced yourself to stay awake and alert until the sun came up. You got out a can of tomato soup, noticing you only had one more can of fruit and one more soup until you had nothing. You knew you’d have to deviate from your planned route to try and find a store and see if they had anything. You’d also keep your eye out for any tracks you could pick up along the way. 

You gently shook Billy awake, giving him a sympathetic smile as he blinked his eyes open. He hummed, nodding to himself as if trying to tell himself to get his ass up before he sat up and stretched a little with his arms above his head.

“Breakfast,” you muttered wryly, handing him the half-finished soup and he took it with a grateful smile, almost downing it in one. You’d all been spoiled for food at the cabin, even though you’d been carefully rationing it and you’d been constantly worrying about lacking in food. Now you really were lacking in food and you were kicking yourself for not bringing more with you. It was too late to dwell on it now though. 

“We need to try and find a store or something soon. We don’t have much food left. I was thinking of trying to hunt a little before we head out today or even on the way. Maybe we could find something,” you suggested as you got your bag ready.

“Sounds good to me,” he nodded, giving you a small but encouraging smile. You felt yourself overwhelmed by gratitude that you weren’t alone on this journey, feeling like if you were it would be far too easy to just give up and give into the dark thoughts that seemed to always linger in the periphery of your mind.

“What?” he asked slowly and you suddenly noticed you’d just been staring at him, your cheeks flushing furiously.

“I’m just glad you’re here with me,” you admitted. He blinked at you for a moment before a bashful smile spread across his face and he took your hand, bringing it to his mouth before placing a tender kiss to it that made you feel like jello.

“I’m glad too,” he murmured, his dark eyes warm as they shone at you. It felt like all you could do was stare at him, getting sucked into the pools of obsidian as he just gazed at you.

“We should head out,” you said, looking away quickly as you realized your thoughts were heading into a territory they had no right in being. It was best to push those thoughts as far away as possible from you. He nodded, giving you a look you weren’t quite sure of before you both got up and got ready to leave.

Day Seven

“Goddamn it!” Billy yelled, angrily kicking over a stand and the sound seemed to echo off the walls of the empty store. 

“Billy...” you murmured with a frown and he whirled around to face you.

“Don’t!” he warned bitingly as he pointed at you, his tone making your mouth clamp shut like a scolded child. 

“We haven’t eaten in three fuckin’ days and this is the fourth store we’ve been to and it’s just… there’s nothin’ left,” he growled, raking his hands through his messy hair.

“I know you’re upset because you're hungry-” you started, once again getting cut off by the absolutely scathing look he sent your way.

“You think I’m upset ‘cause I’m hungry? I’m upset ‘cause you are! I’d be able to hear your stomach for fuckin’ miles!” he barked and you felt your cheeks heat up in shame as you lowered your head.

“We haven't been able to find a goddamn thing out there, not any animals, not any food. I don’t give a shit about food for me, I care about gettin’ somethin’ in you ‘cause you need it,” he muttered, a little less angry and now more despondent as he shook his head.

“You need to eat too,” you huffed, giving him a look. You’d forgotten what it was like to go without food for so long, only just remembering being without food for four days and how it had led you to Billy and Frank’s camp all those months ago. You’d gotten to Pennsylvania and after day four, you’d run out of food. You’d thought you’d be able to find something in the woods, even if it just wound up being a squirrel. All you’d found were the dead though and each store turned up nothing. You were worried but you tried to push on, hoping eventually you’d catch a break. It seemed like Billy was over being patient though. You knew he was feeling like a failure, you could read it all over his face. That he took some personal responsibility to take care of you and he felt like the lack of food was somehow his fault and like he wasn’t suffering too.

“Look, we can’t do shit about the store being empty. Let’s just keep going, stick to the woods and see if we can find something out there,” you said, giving him a look that told him you weren’t about to take no for an answer. With each passing day, he’d been growing more and more irritated, and while you knew it wasn’t direct at you, it made him more snappish and you were getting annoyed by it. You weren't having his personal issues cause problems for you both when you only had each other for company. It wouldn't help you both find food and it sure as fuck wouldn't help you get to Virginia. With one last look, you slipped back out of the store and walked to the tree line, not looking back but knowing he was following you. 

“We’ll find something, okay?” you muttered after a while of you walking side by side. You glanced at his pensive face and he looked at you, his cold eyes softening a little as he blew out a breath and he nodded.

“Yeah,” he answered reluctantly, not sounding like he believed it much. After a few more steps, you felt him take your knife-free hand with his own and you looked to your joined hands quickly before his face. He was now looking guilty and sheepish and you knew he was feeling bad for snapping at you.

“I’m sorry for bein’ an asshole,” he frowned softly as his eyes moved back ahead of him.

“It’s fine. We’re both hungry and tired, we’re dealing with a lot. We can get through this though, right?” you raised a brow at him, a small smile toying on your lips and after a moment, a smile of his own appeared and it made you relax.

“Right,” he nodded, sounding a little more sure this time as he squeezed your hand. 

You walked hand in hand for a while but eventually, you had to reluctantly untangle your hand from his as you got your bow and arrows ready, determined to find something on your way. 

“Squirrel,” you murmured thoughtfully, crouching low as you inspected the tracks in the dirt. You’d been walking for a few hours now with no sign of anything but now you felt hope blooming in your chest and you tried to ignore the voice that screamed at you that hope was futile. 

“That’s-That’s good,” Billy breathed, sounding hopeful himself and you shot him a smile before you stood back up. You both walked silently, him trailing behind you as you tried to track the squirrel and find it. Before long, you stopped dead, Billy stilling too, as you saw it at the bottom of a tree. While your love for animals never wavered, you’d admit the guilt you felt for killing them got less and less the longer you did it. It was just part of life now. You let your arrow fly and it hit the squirrel easily, killing it and pinning it to the tree, making you wince a little. Billy wasted no time in strolling right over, yanking the arrow out before picking up the squirrel as he gave you the most genuine smile you’d seen in days. 

“Guess we got food for tonight,” he murmured wryly and you smiled. It wasn’t a lot and with the both of you needing food, you knew it would only last for dinner and nothing else. But it was better than nothing and would at least give you some energy instead of running on fumes. It wasn’t completely dark yet but with how hungry you both were, you set up camp right away with Billy making a campfire to cook the food. You demolished it in no time and it didn’t do much to quell the deep hunger that days without food had left but it did make you feel a little better and you’d take what you could get.

“Thank you,” Billy said softly after you’d both finished your food. You were licking your fingers clean as if trying to get every little bit you could when you glanced over at him.

“What for?” you asked curiously.

“The food… for not givin’ up on me and puttin’ up with my bullshit,” he scoffed with a smirk, looking a little sheepish as he twirled his knife around.

“I’ll never give up on you,” you said firmly and his eyes softened, a smile curling his lips. It made your heart pick up a little and you tried to keep your mind away from how he was making you feel. It was getting a little dangerous being one on one all the time with him like this, it was getting harder to ignore the feelings for him you had.

“Besides, I’m used to your bullshit. And Frank gave me permission to punch you once so…” you trailed off with a shrug and he snorted, looking away with a sad yet wistful look on his face and you instantly regretted your words.

“Yeah… sounds like Frankie,” he murmured wryly but you could hear the underlying hurt and you knew you’d been an idiot. Despite you both knowing exactly what this journey was about and who you were trying to find, you hadn’t outright mentioned anyone by name since you started as if to avoid the topic. You didn’t like him worrying or being hurt like this and you inwardly smacked yourself for being stupid enough to talk about Frank and opening that can of worms when you’d only just settled into a routine that didn’t involve mostly silence. 

“I’ll take first watch, you get some sleep,” he said, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes on his face and you nodded, feeling guilt burrow deep inside of you.

“Goodnight,” you murmured before you curled up beside him.

“Goodnight,” he replied quietly and you frowned, closing your eyes and trying to get some sleep. You’d avoid mentioning people next time, avoid twisting the knife where you knew it lay buried in his chest. You really hoped you’d get to Virginia soon and that they’d all be there. You had no idea how you’d deal with it if they weren’t and you didn’t know if Billy could handle it. He’d been through loss before, just as you had and you didn’t want him to go through that again. Especially not when Frank was his best friend. You were terrified of what awaited you both down in Virginia and what that meant for the pair of you. You had no idea just things would play out.

Taglist: (if you’ve been asked to be tagged and aren’t here, it wouldn’t let me tag some people.)

@firexfate

@blanchedelioncourt

@on-ya

@sunshinedaisies-anddeath

@snowkestrel

@music-indie-tv

@idaofinfinity

@sweetserendipity65

@ramadiiiisme

@k-marzolf

@celestialams

@woowwwee

@noortsshift

@rainbowgoblinfan

[shakespearefreak]

An American Girl Christmas 2023

(Finally getting around to posting my photos from Christmas, only a few days late!)

The first Christmas surprise, at least for Makena and Evette, came before opening a single gift. As everyone filed into the main room, Jip took off ahead, barking excitedly. When they followed, the girls saw why. Maritza was kneeling by Jip, patting him. “MARITZA!” they cried in unison. She leapt to her feet with a grin. “KAY! EVIE! Hi!!”

The reunited friends piled into one big group hug while Jip jumped all over them, wagging his stubby tail furiously.

Once the girls had calmed down, it was time to look inside everyone’s stockings! (Evette, who celebrates Yule and thus doesn’t have a stocking,* sat down to catch up with Maritza, who of course doesn’t have a stocking yet.)

*Evie knows that, like most Christmas traditions, hanging stockings has pagan roots, but she also feels that nowadays it’s mostly associated with Christmas.

(A better look at what everyone found in their stockings)

Time for presents! Just look at all those pretty packages!

Samantha went first. She found a lovely winter hat with a silver bow and a card tucked into the band. “To: Samantha, From: St. Nicholas,” it read.

Samantha went first. She found a lovely winter hat with a silver bow and a card tucked into the band. “To: Samantha, From: St. Nicholas,” it read.

Inside, she found a gorgeous winter coat of a deep blue velveteen that matched the hat band, trimmed with white fur, as well as a pair of black mittens. She put everything on to model it. “Oh! It’s beautiful!” she gasped. “And it will be just perfect for playing in the snow… these mittens will be much better for making snowballs than my fur muff!”

Next it was Nellie’s turn. “Ooh, I got a big one too!” she cried in surprise, sitting down to open it. (She tried to open the wrapping paper carefully so she could save it — no matter how financially stable she was now, part of her would always remember growing up poor — but Marley convinced her that wasn’t necessary. She felt rather guilty ripping the pretty paper, but she had to admit it was kind of fun.)

“Look, Sam! I got a hat, too!” Nellie looked through the rest of the box’s contents. “And mittens, and a coat, and a little cape! Oh, wow!”

Nellie put on her own new coat set, and the two girls grinned at each other. “Now all we need is snow!”

“That might take a while,” Marley cautioned (it was an unseasonably warm and rainy Christmas Day, with temperatures in the 50s).*

*I spoke too soon, though! It snowed here yesterday… unfortunately, it was a mixture of snow and rain, definitely not good for doll photos.

Virginia was next. She found a smallish, gold-wrapped package addressed to her. “I think it’s a book!” she said, feeling its weight through the foil.

She was right! “The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle,” she read the ornate gilt lettering on the leather-bound cover, then paged through the inside. “Oh! This is the Holmes Christmas story! I can’t wait to read it!” (She also promised Samantha, who is another big Sherlock Holmes fan, that she could borrow it once she was finished.)

Josefina had a small box wrapped in red and gold paper. The wrapping bulged awkwardly in places, as if the object within were irregularly shaped, and when she picked it up, it rattled like there were a number of smaller objects inside. The rattle and the heft of the box felt somehow familiar…

Josefina gave a low gasp as she removed the paper to reveal her beloved memory box, filled with mementos: her late mother’s silver thimble, a square of the lavender-scented soap she’d always used, and a swallow feather and turquoise nugget that reminded Josefina of her; a rattlesnake rattle from her father’s childhood; and the heart-shaped milagro Tía Magdalena had given her during a trying time, to remind her not to lose hope in her heart’s desire. She held the box wordlessly with shining eyes, afraid if she were to try and speak she’d simply dissolve into happy tears.

Makena’s present was simply but prettily packaged in a small pink gift bag. “Ooh, I wonder what this is?”

It ended up being a long golden necklace. Delicate butterflies dangled from the chain on slender strands of gold, seeming to flutter and dance with every little movement. “Oh! I know exactly what outfit to pair this with!”

Finally, it was Evette’s turn. Hers was a lumpy package wrapped in paper as green as her dress, with a design of fir branches and snowy pinecones, topped with a silver bow.

She unwrapped it to reveal a white lacy shirt. “Oh, it’s so pretty!” she said, holding it up to show everyone. “I can’t wait to try it on!”*

*She did, in fact, try it on before changing for Kwanzaa, and it looked amazing on her, but I didn’t get a picture. 😕

The girls returned to the main room, chattering and showing each other their new gifts… just in time to save their Christmas Dinner from a certain curious dog! “Jip, NO!” several girls cried in unison while Sam dragged him away by his collar, his wet nose sniffing furiously at the scent of roasted turkey.

✨🎄 Happy Dollidays! 🎄✨

[countrymusiclover]

3 - Beginning the Profile

Part 4

My Genius Prince

Tag list - @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf

BAU Plane

Everyone had gotten on the private plane after Garcia had managed to track the location of where the emails were sent from somewhere in Indiana. Rosalind had told me that her mother had moved them from there to Virginia after what happened between her and her father. “Reid, you have all the information I received on your girl in your folder. And everybody else that information is on your tablets.”

“So after reviewing the files with Garcia. I know that his weapon of control is a handgun she bought a year ago. She keeps it in her bedroom or the kitchen cabinet if she ever needed it.” I explained to my team members.

Emily and Morgan were sitting across from me where she pulled up a picture of Rosalind. She had her hair down in a braid in the picture that she had out to the public. “It says here that her parents are Amanda and Deacon Maxon. Mother moved her away after her father was arrested.”

“We need to add that her friend now knows she’s missing since she filed a report this morning when she didn’t answer her calls, texts.” Hotch says.

JJ sends a confused look. “Are we really jumping on a limb here over a friend not responding to a text in a timely fashion?”

“It’d be out of character for her to not give her an answer.” I interrupted remembering how close she is with Malia. “Rosalind considers her like a sister. Even when we were hanging out and she messaged her she would quickly message her back.”

Rossi made a face. “Then we definitely need to speak with this friend. Do you have her contact information, kid?”

“I only know her first name is Malia.” I answered him.

Garcia came back to the conversation. “Don’t you worry boy genius for I have the answer. Rosalind posted one picture on the internet tagging one girl named Malia Tames.”

“Wait, let's go back a second. You mentioned that her mother separated her from her father after he was arrested.” Morgan scanned his eyes over his tablet.

Emily glanced at him. “You’re saying that her father could be a connection to the unsub we’re looking for?”

“What I’m saying is what are the odds that her father isn’t the person who kidnapped her?” Morgan corrected her.

Hotch responded. “It was reported that he was arrested after trying to endanger her. It was also reported that he tried to touch her inappropriately at age six.”

“Garcia, tell us anything you can about Rosalind's father.” I told her

The bright blonde on the screen chimed in. “Will do genius boy.” She signed off where I sighed flipping through pages until I looked at my phone Lock Screen. I had changed it to a photo of me and her at the park in autumn a week from Halloween.

It was a cold autumn morning that we decided to walk in the park near my apartment. I walked beside her in a dark black suit with a red tie that I had worn to work sometimes. Rosalind was wearing a cameo green sweatshirt with ripped blue jeans and a pair of peach orange tenna shoes. “So I’ve been curiously thinking about this since you mentioned it. Why do you enjoy Halloween so much?”

“Ohhh. You really want to know why.” I asked her not expecting that type of question.

She loops her arm through mine so we were pressed up against each other instead of just walking side by side. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t wanna know, Spencie.”

“The cool thing about Halloween is that it’s a uniquely American holiday. I mean, despite its obvious origins in the celtic festival of Samhain and the Christian All Saints’ Day, it really is a melting pot of various immigrants traditions and beliefs. It became a little more commercialized in the 1950s with trick or treat, and today it rivals only Christmas in terms of popularity.” I rambled off without thinking about the question.

Rosalind stared at me giggling out her previous question again. “That’s an interesting fact. But I asked, "Why do you like it so much?”

“Sorry…I’d say because you can be anyone you want. You can be the most popular person or your favorite character if you want and it’s the one time a year nobody judges you for it.” I responded to her where she paused our walk leading me over to an empty park bench.

We sat down together before she said another word. She put her hand in mine that was closest to her. “Hey Spencer, I think you need to know that you are the right guy for me. You don’t have to change anything for me.”

“I wish I’d met you when I was younger, Roz.” I smiled, squeezing her hand in mine.

She tucked hair behind her ear that fell in her view. “I agree with that. Hey how about we do this. Whenever we have something come to our mind we immediately just say it instead of keeping it to ourselves like most couples do?”

“You consider us a couple?” I blinked through some tears not expecting to hear that.

Rosalind scooted closer, moving her hand up to my forearm. “Of course I do. Unless you don’t feel the same way.” She dropped her gaze and I saw her get nervous at the idea.

Holding my hands up in front of me I did my best to reassure the beautiful girl sitting in front of me. “Rosalind, are you kidding me. You’re signal handily the most beautiful girl I have seen and I really like being around you. I just…I haven’t really ever had a relationship with a girl before.”

“That’s a relief, Spencer. Let’s do it this way, repeat after me.” She raised her right hand but only stuck her pinky out and I followed her action. She looped her pinky through mine. “Spencer Walter Reid, will you be my boyfriend?”

I chuckled, grinning brightly. “Yes.”

She pressed on not un looping our pinkies yet. “Okay you’re turn.”

“Rosalind Ella Maxon, will you be my girlfriend?” I asked her, staring longingly into those bright green eyes she had.

She nodded her head yes excitedly with her verbal response. “Absolutely.”

“Why is your middle name Ella like Cinderella?” I asked her once we removed our pinkies from one another and just sat in some silence watching the leaves fall from the trees around us.

Rosalind laughed, smiling. “Funny you should say that. My father said that he originally wanted to name me Cinderella since I looked so much like her. But my mother liked the name Rosalind better so they settled on Ella being my middle name.”

“Ella is short for Cinderella.” I put the pieces together in my head.

She reached into her pocket, taking out her phone and getting close to my side once more. She gave me the phone telling me to take the picture. “Here we should have the same background now. That way even when we’re away from each other some part of us will be there with each other.”

“That’s a good idea, Rosalind.” I nodded in agreement holding the phone up like she showed me snapping our picture with me having my other arm over her shoulder. She had laid her head on the crook of my neck and we shared the same goofy grin ... .I'd give anything to be back in that moment.

Rosalind’s pov

I couldn’t tell how long we had been in this cabin for. I couldn’t tell whether it was day or night outside since the windows had been covered up. It could have been days, weeks or maybe hours and I still had no clue. My father just sat across from me at this wooden table he had decorated with teacups and some bits of food. “You really should eat or drink something honey.”

“I’ll do that after you untie me or show me that I am not here as some kind of prisoner.” I told him seeing that he hadn’t untied me from the chair I found myself in when I regained consciousness.

He gets up, handing me the cup that had water in it. He sat back down, sending me a look. “You’re gonna put the dress on and then we are recreating the day she took me away from you.” He pulls out a knife cutting the ropes.

I took the long blue dress from his hands, slipping the fabric over my head. “Do you have the shoes with it too?” I questioned him where he held them up to me.

“I’ve been told Prince Charming must always be prepared…May I?” He replied where I nodded, kicking off my shoes. He bent down, slipping the left silver shoe on first then switched and did the same for my right foot. “There you go.”

“Thank you…urgh!” I paused briefly before kicking him in between his legs where he collapsed onto the ground in agonizing pain.

Giving myself the chance I snatched the handgun that he had laid on the table beside me. Frantically looking around the room I saw a set of stairs where I began running up them. Yet when I almost got away he grabbed me by the back of my hair, yanking me down to the ground. “I have been nothing but nice to you and this is how you treat me after all these years!” My father held the knife to my throat. He moved one hand around my throat, choking me a little.

“Mom was right that you need help!” I grunted trying to kick him again but he cut me across the stomach with the blade. I winced when he held the blade against my throat again.

He removed the blade off of my throat giving me the chance to breathe. He turned his back to me so I snatched the gun hitting him in the leg when I slowly pulled the trigger making me jump at the sound. “You little bitch!” My father held his bleeding leg stumbling toward me where we got in a fight on the floor trying to either hold onto or grab the weapon. He got close to getting it from me but I kicked him in the rib and hit him over the head with the gun. Scrambling to my feet I gulped gripping the gun and pushing my way through the door.

Getting outside I saw the truck in the driveway. I grunted seeing blood on my forehead in the mirror. Finding the keys in the engine I grunted driving off, not sure where I was heading. Touching the screen in the car I typed into maps the nearest hospital. “Please…please stay awake.” I struggled to keep my eyes open driving as fast as possible but when I got on the interstate ramp my eyes fell heavily and I turned the car towards the wall and stopped blacking out.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[mistressoftheelderitchwhorehouse]

You and the Shadows That Trail Alongside You Episode 1

Trigger Warnings: Anxiety

Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs

Pairing: Dazai x OC / Chuuya x OC

Notes: Welcome to a deeply personal story. It's just a self insert fic making me, an adult black woman with many a mental health issue, face my demons. If it helps anyone else? Awesome. A name is never used, so it would qualify as a reader insert if you like.

Enjoy

____________________________

If I had lived a different life, I think I would have been a Literature major. Actually, I almost was. I wanted to go to school for it out in Atlanta, but that idea was popped the moment it was asked how I would feed myself, if I could make money, and did it translate to skills for when robots inevitably took my job.

Needless to say I went to school for something else.

However, the idea still lingered. Hell, I would argue it expanded as I got older. American literature was fun, English Literature was my first love, and then there was Japanese literature....

I was introduced to it thanks to a friend, and I fucking loved it. Sitting in alher living room, watching this anime called Bungo Stray Dogs, made me fall in love with not just Japanese literature, but the entire written word all over again. With the themes that could be woven with just ink and paper, lessons that could burn your soul, and all in a rather pretty package.

I was more than a bit smitten with the idea.

Literature.

Reading.

Writing.

Maybe I dug a little too deep into my latest hyperfixation. Plunged my hands a bit too far wanting more, more, more. Everyone always joked that my greatest vice was greed, and I always agreed with them without a hint of hesitation. Whether it was money, love, or just hyperfixations I just wanted more.

And now it had called in its debt.

Because how else did one explain waking up in the middle of an unfamiliar city?

I was damn near a hermit. I left my house only on Mondays and Thursdays at the insistance of my friends. Hell, I rarely left my own bedroom.

I stared at the cars that zoomed past on the street only a few feet away from where I sat on a bench. The stench of gasoline was comforting, something that felt familiar and safe. All that was missing was cigarettes and pine.

I tilted my head back and groaned. "Please for the love of christ focus! You're supposed to be getting courage to ask for directions, remember?"

Directions, a lift, even a half hearted shrug would be nice. However, that meant approaching someone, which meant talking to someone, which meant showing off my poor Japanese skills...

I glare at the very clearly Japanese street sign, as if it was the reason I was procrastinating.

"Oh yeah! And remember that one time-"

My head whipped around and I watched a young woman walk down the street with a well to do looking man. Both of them appeared Japanese, and the words that I could understand, more than I swore I studied, came easily enough.

I worried my bottom lip and watched them go further down the road. Then, just as they turned a corner, I finally picked myself up and hurried after them. Concrete warmed my feet, and the cool breeze dried the beginnings of tears as I hurried.

A sharp pain in my shoulder had me stumbling, and I twisted around just to get a brown haired man only inches in front of my face. "Oi!"

I blinked as he said... Honestly, I wasn't sure what he was saying. Either he was trying to sound tough or he didn't care to enunciate, either way he didn't open his mouth enough for me to understand his Japanese.

Probably not realizing I didn’t understand him, or maybe he didn't care, he continued talking. It didn't take a genius to realize he was furious by his tone.

"Hey, lay off Satoshi. It's a civilian for fuck's sake."

The man straightened up and turned around. I took that as an oppertunity to mutter a quick sorry, before sprinting away.

Now to go cry instead of getting directions...

______________________________

The sky had dipped into a swirling array of pinks, oranges, and violets. The cold was starting to set in, and my tank top and skirt combo wasn't cutting it anymore.

I leaned against a shop and dug my bare arm against the still warm brick. I still hadn't gotten the courage to speak to anyone. More people had clogged the streets, and that led me to making myself scare in an alley for the past two hours.

Now that most people had dissapeared into bars, taxis, and their homes I had crept out of my anxiety hole with the intention to try again.

"Jesus. Now look, you're sleeping on the streets. Congrats!"

I do my best to ignore my own reflection in the shop window as I push myself off. It wasn’t the first time I'd slept in the elements against my will, but...

I curled my toes and grit my teeth as I looked around. When I spotted something neon at the edge of my vision I nearly twisted my head off to see it properly. Attached to a squat building appeared to be a bar. I darted across the street and stood outside the heavy wood door. If push came to shove I could pretend to be drunk. If push came to shove I could be a dumb gaijin.

It was okay.

It was okay.

I pushed the door open, and not a soul seemed to care. In fact, the only person who seemed to notice my existence was myself.

I sucked in a breath and stepped over the threshold, cold wood making my spine shiver and grilling meat made my mouth water. I made a beeline for the bar, making myself small and avoiding the bodies of the men that crowded the rather plain bar room.

I leaned against the wood bartop and a woman with her hair piled high and a bored expression approached. She looked me up and down once before raising an eyebrow.

"Foreigner, right?" She asked in slow English. "We don't serv American military-"

"I-I'm not!" I said. "Um, I'm just lost. I have no clue where I am."

"You're at Blue Moon Bar."

"N-no... In Japan. I don’t know where in Japan I am."

The woman raised an eyebrow, her gaze stuck on me even as she reached behind her for a beer and slid it down the bar. "In Japan? Are you intoxicated? Did you use drugs?"

"No! I'm defenitely sober. Look, is there an American Embassy nearby?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt a large, callussed hand touch my shoulder. "Lost in this world and seeking company. A feeling I know all too well."

I kept my gaze locked on the woman as I sidestepped away from the hand until I could no longer feel it. "So um, do you have the directions? I can read a map too if you don't want to tell me."

"Lost and learned! What a wonderfully bitter sweet taste. You're like Cantarella used to-Gak!"

I yelp as I knock into the bar, a painful jolt going up my ribs.

"Shit." The bar tender muttered.

"Dazai you stupid, womanaizing, self centered, egotistical, waste of bandages and air!"

"Hey only one of those is actually true!"

I pushed myself off the bar with a quickness I hadn't expressed since middle school. Standing next to me was a tall man that had hair that was a bright blonde. His hands were wrapped around a far too skinny man's neck, seemingly uncaring if this would kill him.

I knew these people.

I had seen them only a few hours ago from the safety of my best friend's couch.

I was screaming about how important character design was.

My friend was laughing at me and agreeing.

I could still taste the maple syrup that I had dumped on my eggs.

"Yokohama." I whispered the words to myself, and wrapped my arms around my middle. "I'm in Yokohama."

I jumped as Dazai was suddenly dumped in front of me, his hair disheveled and his coat hanging off one shoulder. "Now apologize! Can't you see she was uncomfortable?"

"I'm no good at English."

"Of course you're not."

Kunikida clicked his tongue and grabbed Dazai's head and forced him to bow. "My friend apologizes for his behavior. He never meant to make you uncomfortable." He seemed to increase his grip if Dazai's whining was any indicator, and switched to Japanese. "Right?"

"Yeah! Whatever you say!"

"Actually, Mr. Kunikida," The bartender said. "Can you help her? She says she's not with the military, and doesn't even know what city we're in." Her voice lowered, and she too switched to Japanese. "I think she might be one of the Port Mafia's red light girls."

I knew my face had to be as red as the district she spoke about. I twisted on my heel and I started to walk away. Whether from ebaressment or self preservation I could analyze in the safety of a dumpster-

"Ma~tte."

I stopped dead and stared at my bare feet. All it did was earn a chuckle that made me want to burrow into the wood and curl into subflooring.

"Well now," A pair of scuffed brown shoes appeared in front of my feet, and when I looked up, I was gazing into the amused face of Osamu Dazai himself. "Looks like this one does know Japanese. Right, Cantarella?"

____________________________

Was it a bar or a tea house? I knew the difference intellectually, but the whiskey was making my head swim and I couldn't grapple onto anything that wasn't in my immediate focus.

Like the men in front of me.

"And you're sure you don't remember being on that side of town?" Kunikida asked.

I looked up from my glass, the ball shaped ice cube no longer interesting. "I mean probably not? I suck at remembering directions. I got lost in my elementary school every year after summer vacation!"

"Awe, what a shame." Dazai reached for the whiskey glass, and I snatched it back. "You gave it to me."

"I did."

"So it's mine."

"Of course! I just didn't realize you were such a light weight."

Kunikida sighed and I swore he called us both children. I swallowed the words behind my teeth, and directed my gaze from Dazai's unamused expression to Kunikida's exhausted one.

"The embassy or whatever is probably closed, yeah? Fuckin the worst."

"And now she talks like a deliquent."

"I'd be impressed if she could say anything coherent at all." Kunikida snapped. "Look, it's clear she doesn't know anything about the Port Mafia. Let's drop her off with the police and go look for that tiger."

The tiger?

Wait.

Episode one? Wasn't Kat and I on episode whatever of season four? Didn't whatever God, demon, alien that sent me here know that much?

"Maybe you're right. Damn, and to think we could have cracked something before Ranpo."

"Not in your dreams." Kunikida said as he stood up. "Come on, Miss. Let's get you to the police."

"The river."

Kunikida raised an eyebrow. "What?"

I dropped my gaze back to my whiskey when I felt both of their stares against my skin. It was probably a rule or something, right? You didn't say anything to influence the plot. You didn't insert yourself in the plot. Fanfiction or issekai or whatever 101.

But...

It wouldn't hurt, right?

Just this once to do something like this.

To be more than just me?

I giggled at that, a snorting sound that I had hated since I was a teenager. "Oh god, I'm stupid. So stupid."

"Miss?"

I look up at them both, the grip on my glass so tight my fingers were going numb. "A tiger, right? I saw something near the river."

The detectives looked at each other, before Kunikida snatched the glass away and hauled me up. "Well, looks like we got something useful out of this exchange afterall."

"Huh?"

Dazai knocked the glass back with ease before grinning at me with a smile that was far too sharp to be normal. "We got ourselves a witness."

_____________________________

Translation Notes:

Matte: It can meet wait or stop in Japanese.

Cantarella: A sweet tasting poison said to be used by a certain family back in ye olden days.

[harleiquina]

All TV series I've ever seen II

Let's see how many I remember from this time period.

1940 - 1970

1980 - 2000 (this post)

2010 - Now

1983 - V

Aliens have come to Earth but they are nice and willing to help us... or so they say.

Everybody remembers Diana eating rats, the dramatic face reveal of any reptilian, Freddy Krueger beeing a good guy (this time) and I'm sure Stephenie Meyers wish that Reneesme/Jacob had the same level of acceptance than "the child from the stars" (name given in Latinoamerica, don't know if it was also used in the original show) and whats-his-name.

Saw it on TV but we also bought the bootleg DVD because my mom and aunt never saw the ending of the show as kids.

1985 - Amazing Stories

I hardly remember anything (I was too young when it was played on TV) but I do remember beeing traumatized by Christopher Lloyd's severed (and reattached) head.

It was created by Spielberg, some stories land better than other ones. Maybe I should try and rewatch some?

1986 - Sledge Hammer

Is he sexist, violent, gun-lover and conservative AF? Yes... but he's also hilarious! This is satire people! Don't be like the NRA that gave somekind of award to this fictional character because they have the same level of comprehension than a brick.

Saw it on TV but it is also available on Youtube.

1986 - ALF

Alien finds himself on a typical american family house and chaos begins.

Do you live under a rock? Don't you know who ALF is? Just go watch it.

It was on TV when I was growing up, I'm pretty sure you can find it anywhere.

1989 - The Simpsons

I will keep on saying it, we argentineans speak in 3 languages: Spanish, Lunfardo (a Buenos Aires dialect but each province has their own as well) and Simpsons' quotes (latin spanish obviously, everyone agrees that it's the definitive Simpsons). Earlier seasons are better, we all know that... they kind of lose us when the original latin dubbers were replaced (it would seem that Disney brought them back but I hardly watch TV now, so I don't know)

1989 - Eureeka's castle.

I don't remember a THING about it but my family says that I was obsessed. It's a Muppet-style show of a young witch apprentice and her friends.

Upon further looking, it was co-written by R. L. Stine? So I didn't got into Goosebumps as a child but got this... who knows?

1989 - Agatha Christie's Poirot

I haven't watched everything just yet (it's been on for 20 years, people!) but I do like David Suchet's Hercules Poirot (my family disagrees because for them Poirot will always be Peter Ustinov). Hey, at least it's not Albert Finney!

1990 - Caloi en su tinta (Caloi in his own ink - Argentina)

It wasn't a series properly said... it didn't have a story to follow. Caloi was a very important artist in my country (his character Clemente became a staple in our comics just like Mafalda) and he had this TV show where he curated animations of all kinds, from all over the world. I remember seeing a stop-motion version of Barber of Sevilla and I think that I also saw Queen's Innuendo videoclip for the first time in here.

Some stories were funny, others melancholic, elegant or grotesque... but all of them were Art, with a capital A.

1990 - Twin Peaks

I don't understand the hype around this show. The only thing that I though was cool was to have a season and a half to find the killer.

Before someone tells me "you have to think how ground breaking it was in the time it came up" or "it's high end art, open your mind to it" trust me I can do that... it doesn't change the fact that I don't see why so many people like it so much.

I'll grant it a few points for showing us David Duchovny as a trans woman FBI agent that saves the day on the episode she shows up. I did like the character.

1993 - The Nanny

What would happen if instead of María taking care of Von Trapp's children in the Alps, we had a jewish it-girl from Flushing, Queens? That was Fran Drescher's pitch, the rest is history.

I got to confess I usually get bored with sit-coms but this is the only one that I can watch over and over again (and the final episode still brings single tear in my eye). Yeah, the whole plot of Fran trying to get pregnant was dragged for too long, but still it's like 3 or 4 episodes, no biggy (unless my memory fails, it's been a while).

1993 - Mighty Morphin Power Rangers

For whatever reason a alien (?) race decided that teenagers are the appropiate warriors so they choose 5 Angel Grove locals to kick Galactic-Witch Rita's ass. Monsters that grow size but still look like rubber suits, the Rangers use spandex but for whatever reason they release sparks when a blade touches them. Still sweet little 4 year old me loved this show.

I checked a few episodes on Youtube not too long ago and I was pleasently surprised by the fact that each monster represented a struggle the Rangers where having on their civilian life... so facing and defeating them actually helped these kids in their ordinary life. A nice message that I completely forgot while self-convincing myself that this show was a lot dumber than I remembered.

Oh! By the way when it was on TV I watched -maybe- up to season 2. When the movie came out I was shocked that Jason, Trini and Zack were not in it.

1993 - The X Files

The most recognizable tune ever, the OG monster-of-the-week format, a skeptic + a believer, some comedy, another bit of drama and , in ocassions, straight-up horror = one of the greatest TV shows ever made.

Regardless what people think I preffer Agent Dogget (there, I said it!!) to Mulder, but of course that sunflower-seed eater, porn aficionado, spooky guy will always be loved either way.

Of course I didn't watched on TV (my mom and aunt had that privilege, I was literally a baby) but I got the whole series on bootleg DVD.

1993 - Frasier

I only watched a few mixed up episodes and I have the first 4 seasons on bootleg DVD but it was my aunt who liked it the most.

A psicologyst with a radio TV show has to live with his dad and his brother visits very often.

You might recognize them as Sideshow Bob and his brother as well.

1994 - Friends

Watched it on cable when I had it, mixed up as usual but still... for whatever reason sitcoms bore me... and this is not the exception. Again, I don't understand the hype.

1995 - Xena: Warrior princess

Ancient Greece, a female warrior... my (probably by the time we got it in Argentina) 6 year-old self loved this show. Until certain fling with Hercules... I didn't liked romance then (or now, but I'm a little more tolerant as an adult) and it ruined the show for me.

Yes, now I see certain undertones that my youngself didn't. I get it. Leave me alone!

1995 - Hercules: The Legendary Journeys

Yeah... I didn't liked Hercules but I watched a few episodes either way. I always liked a good fight on TV.

1996 - Sabrina, the teenage witch

Who didn't wanted to have magical powers growing up becuse of her?

I can't really tell how many season I've watched because, as I said, in Argentina you were lucky if the TV channels bought more than 2 season to repeat on end. Still... I didn't quite liked it as much once she left for collage. Kinda lost its magic *wink, wink*

1996 - Millenium

The year 2000 was upon us and the promise of the end of the world, so Chris Carter decided to play a little bit with it.

Frank Black is a retired agent that has a peculiar way of getting into the mind of the criminals (the audience is the only one that knows that he can see what the criminals see... live) so he is called over an over again to help on different cases.

It ended too soon (got cancelled I believe) but it has its final episode in season 9 of The X Files (if I'm not mistaken). It deals a lot with religion (mostly Christianity) and its a lot darker than Mulder & Scully's adventures (with the exception of that one episode where 4 demons get together in a coffe shop -desguised as old men- and tell their latest works done).

1997 - Meego

I got to be honest with you... I hardly remember anything from this TV show. It was basically ALF but with a human playing an alien instead of a puppet. Still we remember it fondly at home so I guess it was good enough?

1998 - Charmed

Argentina beeing Argentina, I saw a few seasons... maybe... I do remember that I liked more the original 3 sisters.

It's fun... sometimes cheesy... as any tv or film of that time.

1998 - Will & Grace

As I said, sitcoms end up becoming boring and repetitive. But that doesn't take away that sometimes jokes are good... some are very 90, but ah, well...

2000 - Dark Angel

Maybe I saw 2 season on TV but I was obsessed.

Typical supersoldiers experiments developed this superhuman creatures that got tired of beeing an experiment and broke out the facility when they were children, so now as grown ups live in our society. The lead Max (Jessica Alba) has a job as a courrier but every now and then steals, that's how she meets Logan a journalist with vigilante tendencies that needs someone to do the dirty work.

2000 - CSI (later known as Las Vegas)

Have I ever watched a show just to laugh at it? Yes, and it was called CSI, the original (I saw a lot of Miami as well).

I had a few glimpses here and there from this procedural that were the definition of Deus-ex-machina and later I decided to give it a shot just to see if, within this universe, it made sense. And nope.

If one of mom's doctors dissed House for his nearly-impossible diagnosis... I'm pretty sure some forensics did the same with Grissom's team.

Side note I really love Ted Danson, that guy is awesome.

2001 - Law & Order: Criminal Intent.

At first I thought it was a yet another The Brain + Person that explains him like many others... but Goren and Eames are the best detective duo. PERIOD.

You get to see them investigating (so Goren, mostly, doesn't know everything off the bat... he does go to the library, kids) and Eames is not just a blank space for the audience to jump in and have Goren explain everything to her. My favourite moments are when she can add up to his theory by just having the female side of things.

Goren isn't the typical I-only-think kind of detective (like, let's say Poirot) he can -and will- get into dangerous situations when needed.

You have to watch for D'onofrio's performance.

I like Jeff Goldblum as well... but his season was kinda... meh

2002 - Los Simuladores (The Pretenders - Argentina)

What if there was a group of people to solve any kind of situations? And what if this situations are quite basic, borderline stupid, like meeting the in-laws, giving a hard exam at the end of the year and such?

This is it, that's the plot.

This was a huge hit back in the day but it took me a decade (almost) to watch because if you knew argentinean tv and film as I do... you wouldn't believe that there are actually some good ideas burried very very deep in the mud.

2002 - Monk

A detective with OCD is soooo good at his job but cannot be a detective again because of it (it got worse once his wife died in a attack). Fun and wholesome... maybe it did dragged for too long.

And no matter what... we are Sharona stans in this house!

2002 - CSI Miami.

Just like CSI I watched it just to make fun of it (and because in cable they will put all CSIs together in one afternoon so it was easier to compare them).

At least this one didn't take itself too seriously!

2003 - Tru Calling

Med student has a weird ability where dead people can reach her and make her repeat the day to try and save their lives.

It ended too soon on a great cliffhanger that we will never see resolved. Damn it!

2004 - Lost

We all know Lost... it started great... and it ended.

Luckily for me the TV channel where I was watching it stopped after season 4 and I never bothered to try and catch up again.

2004 - House MD

Sherlock Holmes goes to med school and instead of solving crimes, he solves impossible diagnostics.

Gotta give it to Hugh Laurie for beeing a lovable a-hole the whole time.

It did lasted too long for me, I didn't watch the final seasons but I did watched a few mixed up episodes in cable so I kinda know what happens after, lets say... season 4? (the final one I've watched, maybe).

2004 - CSI New York

Same as the others. Just watched for Gary Sinise and Edward Furlong's guest appearence.

2004 - Miss Marple

I was never a fan of Miss Marple in writting... but on TV she is less annoying.

How come she is never suspicious? She's always around when a crime happens!

2005 - Invasion

Does anybody else remembers this TV show set after the Katrina hurricane that, apparently, also uncovered a race of aliens living underwater that have a body-snatching way of taking over the world? It's only 1 season, got cancelled I believe and I watched it on TV at 6 or 7 AM while getting ready to go to school. Ah, old times!

2005 - Mosca & Smith (Argentina)

(Mosca can be translated as "Fly" -the bug- but in this case is the character's Last Name so I'll leave it as it is)

Buddy cop with two overly eccentric characters. A silly comedy with some really in-depth meta humor of argentinean justice system. Some jokes are in poor taste... and I think it got raunchier in it's second season (I didn't watched it because one of the leads was replaced and the 2nd actor didn't had the same punch)

2005 - Bones

A forensic anthropologyst helps the FBI to solve crimes.

This is the BrainTM taken to an extreme. Dr. Temperance Brennan just can't be good at eeeeeverything. This kinda changed as seasons passed but still... who says smart people is always entirely clueless about how to be a normal human? And why so egocentric? (Most truly smart people are usually super-humble because they know that there is a lot more to learn).

In any case, it is fun. Watched on TV (earlier seasons) and continued on bootleg DVD.

2006 - Ugly Betty

The main reason why I didn't listed Betty, la fea in here it's because it is a telenovela (soap opera) everybody in Latinoamérica watched it. Some things are not so good (maybe I'll write about it one day) but overall it had a good story.

Those dubious things got changed in the U.S version... and it changed the whole story. It was easier to create something new than trying to bring people on board using a name that is well beloved to a certain ethnicity... just saying.

2007 - El Hombre que volvió de la muerte (The man that came back from Death -Argentina)

Think of a mash up of The Count of Montecristo and V for Vendetta.

It was a remake of a TV show done in the 60s... 70s? By Narciso Ibañez Menta, a Spanish actor that was naturalized as argentinean and was our very own mix of Boris Karloff (with his love for make up) and Vincent Price (he did a lot of Edgan Allan Poe stories as well). The original story was about Elmer Van Hess, who was subject to different experiments. The lab caughts on fire, he's inside and survives. For whatever reason his organs end up being given to other people so he embarks on a quest to retrieve them.

The remake also had Elmer Van Hess who was a happy fool about to get married, his boss and associates set him up and ends up in prision for fraud. Not happy with that, his boss strikes a deal with a Doctor so Elmer can be his human guinea pig (in order to do so, he asks other inmates to torture him while in prision so his only escape would be to go with the Doctor). He's experimented on as results he gets superhuman strenght and, of course, the chemicals affect his brain turning him into a very dark and blood-lust creature. The lab is set on fire, everybody thinks he died but he comes back 10 years later ready to take revenge on all of them. He was very cruel and his idea of revenge was very Saw-like... but deep down he's still in love with his almost-wife and she's the only one that can sort of ease him in the worst moments.

For an argentinean fiction it was very good.

2008 - Fringe

The X Files but even crazier? You got it.

Mom and I did got lost after season 4... but we still have the bootleg DVDs, it's just that we should start all over again and we don't have a lot of time 😝

2008 - The Mentalist

A guy is so good at reading people that decides to ripp them off saying that he's a medium. He got the wrong guy, this guy kills his family so now it's personal!

Patrick Jane's quirks might be amusing in the early episodes but after a while you, just like everyone else on the show, will want to punch him in the face.

From my little corner of the Earth I scream: Justice for Cho!! He also deserved a happy ending!

2009 - Doll House

A bunch of people got their memories wiped and now they receive other memories (fabricated sometimes) to take on dangerous tasks.

Dubious consent galore... but overall the premise was engaging. It lasted 3 seasons, the third one included a time-jump... the end didn't quite landed for me but... meh! It's entertaining at least.

2009 - Flashfoward

The entire world fainted at the same time. Everybody had visions of the future... so now some things need to be prevented for whatever reason.

Only one season, got cancelled. I don't remember a thing except the tribute to one of Jorge Luis Borges stories (El Jardín de los senderos que se bifurcan/ The garden of paths that bifurcate) and another to David Bowie's song Scary Monsters and Super Creeps. That's all I remember, I swear.

2009 - Modern Family

Sitcom that broke some barriers on what a typical family looks like. It's fun...but yeah, it also bored me.

Note to everybody: not all latinos sound like Sofía Vergara... not even Sofía Vergara sounds like Sofía Vergara the whole time.

[vvillcwtree]

hello friends! i'm rae (she/they, 25+, cst). i'm excited to write with everyone! my discord user is available by request as i sometimes really suck at keeping up with ims on tumblr. i am the mun behind yoosu, joaquin, haeoreum and poe right here. you can read poe's profile here or check out his pinterest over here. under the cut you'll find out more about him. if you leave me a like i'll reach out to plot with you. (ps i will do my best to get intros up for everyone else tomorrow).

ABOUT

born in seoul to an american-born mother and a south korean-born father, their relationship truthfully was not a very happy one, they got married quickly and quite young and both regretted it when it became obvious they weren't meant for one another

eventually after several years of trying to make it work for their young son they decided to split ways, with poe's mother returning to america and his father staying in south korea with poe, though poe wanted to go with his mother it was decided the change would be too drastic for him so he would only spend summers and every other winter break with his mother

poe was christened with the nickname poe when he was nine years old by a neighbor boy who thought that "willow" was too boring for an english name. the nickname quickly caught on and although poe barely remembers the neighbor who first called him poe he still uses it to this day

poe eventually decided to attend college in america in order to better bond with step-father and half-brother, ezra, his grades throughout school had always been excellent so once he had a goal to work towards he put his all into maintaining his good grades so he would have a better chance at being accepted overseas

it was honestly a surprise to poe when he was accepted at columbia university with a fairly substantial scholarship but not one to look a gift horse in the mouth he quickly decided to take advantage of the opportunity and moved in with his mother's family while he was attending college

and it was in his mother's home that poe eventually came out as gay it was something that he'd known for a while but in the conservative environment of south korea he didn't think it was safe for him to be out

poe dated a man his first year of university but their relationship was interrupted by poe needing to return to south korea in order to enlist, however, instead of remaining faithful he cheated on poe the entire time that he was in south korea. something that poe painfully found out in person when he returned to do his doctorate

luckily that pain brought him into contact with his eventual husband, avi. poe was absolutely gone for him the moment that they started dating and their marriage in 2019 was one of the high points in poe's life

unfortunately poe found himself returning to south korea once again due to his father's illness as well as a stellar job offer at sunkyunkwan university

PLOT IDEAS

students, poe is a generally laidback professor and many end up taking at least one of his classes. he also acts as an academic advisor for anyone considering taking the literature major.

poe moved back and forth between america and south korea for a lot of his life so it's likely he has friends all over the place. perhaps an old friend from america that he happily stumbled upon again?

bukchon village residents will probably recognize poe as the insane man who likes to go for a run before the sun is even up...he is far too chipper for the time of morning your muse would be seeing him

i'm open to any thoughts you might have too of course!

[artificialqueens]

🏳️‍🌈 The Miracle of Living Pt.1 (Bianca Del Rio/BenDeLaCreme ig??) - Lita 

In this world we're just beginning  To understand the miracle of living

Hello everyone! Welcoe to the long-awaited prequel to the Bitney San Junipero AU that I technically started writing five years ago (???) but recently decided to try and breathe new life into and complete. In theory this can stand alone as its own story with a few vague references to Black Mirror future tech sprinkled in, but it's really just setup to the main fic that kind of got away from me. The story has gotten a complete overhaul, so if anyone from Ye Olden Days remembers it - please do stick around and read this new version, I promise it's better. 

Massive thank you to @veronicasanders for giving me the kick up the ass required to get this story back off the ground, throwing her ideas at me, and being my Google when it comes to divorce court and the American college system. Love you mom - I hope this story is everything you'd dreamed of <3

Summary: Bianca is twenty-one, flunking college, and - thanks to a night of drunk bad decision-making - she's pregnant with her gay best friend's baby. 

Los Angeles, California

 January 17th, 2022

“BEN!” 

Bianca’s furious voice rings out through the small apartment. She’s sitting on the toilet with her pajama pants and underwear around her ankles, willing the second blue line to disappear. If anything, it’s getting darker. 

“Uh…yeah?” The reply comes from the other side of the bathroom door.  

“I thought you said you wore a fucking condom!”

“I did!” Ben protests. Then, meek and cautious: “...It might have split.” 

“It might have what?”

Two and a half months ago, Bianca and Ben had gone out drinking to commiserate the ends of their respective relationships - Ben had found out about his long-term boyfriend’s secret Grindr profile and dumped him, then Bianca’s longest-lasting FWB had called it quits with her less than a week later. When they got home, drunk and dumb and miserable, they’d started making out with each other on the couch - as a joke, just for something to do. And then, since they were shitfaced and apparently didn’t know any better, one ‘joke’ led to another, and they’d woken up naked in Ben’s bed. They had laughed it off the morning after, hunched at the kitchen table over alka-seltzer and black coffee - too much liquor, too many emotions. Shit happens. 

And then tonight, Bianca had mentioned offhand that she was incredibly overdue her period, and suggested going out to buy a test half as a joke. Ben had gone along with it a little too willingly, and he’d been overly-energised and super fucking weird on the walk to the drugstore. Really, Bianca should have known something was up when he detoured via the liquor store across the street, and came back with two bottles of tequila. 

“Ben, are you fucking kidding me?” Bianca says through her teeth. 

“I was gonna tell you,” Ben replies, sounding flustered. “Is the door locked? Can I come in?”

Bianca wants to say no, but it was Ben’s curiosity about her vagina that got them here in the first place, so who cares about whether or not he sees her now? She reaches over to turn the lock. Ben shuffles into the room in his leopard-print boxers and an oversized pajama shirt, and perches on the edge of the bathtub, looking at the floor. 

Part of Bianca wants to burst into tears - another part of her wants to scream until she throws up. Not now. Not fucking now - not like this. She’s twenty-one; Bianca doesn’t even know that she wants a goddamn kid at all, forget about one fathered by her gay best friend. 

“Look, I didn’t notice until after we were done. And I didn’t want to freak you out - I figured it would probably be nothing, and then there was never a good time, and then you told me you were late and I…” 

“You’re a faggot, we were hammered, we fucked because we thought it would be funny - if you knew that there was any chance whatsoever that you’d knocked me up, you should have fucking told me!” Bianca snarls through gritted teeth. 

Ben doesn’t say anything for a moment. He doesn’t really react either. He just sits there and looks at her; composed, taking it in. 

Bianca met Ben at a theater summer camp when they were sixteen. Ben had just moved from Seattle; he was about to start junior year at the private school across town. They led fundamentally different lives - Bianca had found herself seethingly jealous of him and his cakewalk of a fucking existence when she first met him, resolved that she had no other choice but to hate him on premise. But they’d been assigned as duet partners for the end-of-summer showcase and, faced with no other choice but to get along with him, she’d discovered that they were fucking made for each other. Ben didn’t mind that Bianca was kind of a bitch; he laughed at her jokes, he seemed to understand her. All three qualities she’d never experienced from other kids her age. One juvenile performance of Waltz for Eva and Che later, and she’d found an apparent friend for life. 

And then, once high school drew to a close and Bianca was confronted head-on with the unblinking abyss of her future and its hopelessness, he’d offered her an exit route. He was freaked out by the idea of sharing a dorm with a stranger, so his dad had eventually relented after months of begging to privately rent an apartment - he just needed a roommate. She’d never expected that that offer would land her here. 

“So, you’re pregnant?” He asks cautiously. 

“Yeah - no shit, Sherlock.”

“Do you think you should take another one? To make sure or whatever?” Ben asks. Bianca presses the heel of her hand to her temple, still not breaking eye contact with the pregnancy test. 

“Nope - that looks pretty positive to me,” Bianca shows it to him, wiping the mist of stress-sweat from her brow. Ben pulls a vaguely disgusted face. There’s a moment of pause - Bianca bites her lip, struggling to make sense of the messy cocktail of emotions swirling around inside her head. 

“Are you okay?” Ben tries to take Bianca’s hand. It feels weirdly violating to have someone touching her while she’s sitting on the toilet. She swats him away. 

“I think so. I need a little time to get my head around…everything.” Bianca grits her teeth. 

All the scary new problems are dawning on her all at once, like she’s being descended on by a swarm of wasps. College. How to tell her parents. Hospital bills. College again. The apartment is too small for another person. She’ll probably be a shitty mother. Ben. Ben’s pending status as an absent father. She’s never changed a diaper before. College. Fucking college.  

She’s currently scraping through year number four of her two-year community college program. Which, as it turns out, only takes two years if you aren’t working full-time to try and keep yourself fed and housed. Ben’s impending graduation from USC - full ride for a screenwriting major, family that gave a shit about him - made that feel even more grim.  

This whole convoluted, stupid journey to something better had felt both never-ending and deeply hopeless for the last thirty-six months, and now the whole endeavor is decisively fucked. Even if she does make it to that prophesied something better - enough credits to earn her a spot in the fashion merchandising major she’d been declined acceptance to straight out of high school - there’s no way she can handle real college with a fucking screaming infant permanently attached to her. She can feel the dream crumbling in her hands.  

Bianca makes a silent resolution that she’s not putting her own kid - who still feels very much like a hypothetical even though it very much isn’t - through the same shit. You’re eighteen now, you’re not our problem any more. It really didn’t help that every screaming argument with her mom in the leadup to her high school graduation had been silently spectated by her brother - in all his uneducated, unemployed, twenty-seven year old glory - from his position fossilized into the living room couch with his PlayStation controller in his hand. We’re not paying for you to stay in this house and fuck your life up - why her specifically? 

Her desire not to be their problem had trailed her from NOLA to LA with Ben, and that was its own issue. She leaves on her terms and she’s abandoning her family, even though it was their sharp insistence that she got a job or an apartment or fucking something else that didn’t involve her living at home and taking up too much space that had pushed her in that direction in the first place. What the fuck was there for her at home anyway? Community college and shitty waitressing jobs? At least she could do the same shit against a prettier backdrop on the other side of the country. 

Bianca realizes she’s staring dementedly at the test in her hand again. She sniffs, trying to blink away tears she hadn’t noticed forming.

“I really didn’t see being a single mom in my life plan,” she mutters - thinking out loud.

Except she had. In her bleaker moments - the ones in which she was seventeen and terrified of what would happen if she never got out of her hometown. She hadn’t had that nightmare since she and Ben had packed his car and left at the beginning of September four years ago. 

“Who says you have to be a single mom?” Ben tilts his head, reaching a hand out for her again. 

Bianca scoffs. 

“What? No- Ben, I really don’t want to date you - one night was bad enough.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. But like…if you’re gonna go through with this, I’m not just leaving you by yourself to do it. Both of us did something dumb, and now we’re here - so, both of us should have to parent the consequence.” 

There’s a quiet, sympathetic smile on Ben’s face. Bianca still wants to fucking kill him. She eyes him up, searching for any hints of deception or fake-niceness. Surprisingly, he passes the on-the-spot analysis. 

“You’re just saying that so I stop being mad at you.”

“No! Anyway, I can’t let you raise it by yourself - I love you, but the world really, really doesn’t need two of you.”

“Ha-ha, go suck a dick,” Bianca rolls her eyes. She can’t help but crack a smile. 

“If this is what happens when I try to go outside my comfort zone, then yeah, that’s what I’m sticking to.”  

****

2nd May, 2022

“That was less excruciating than I thought it would be,” Bianca arches her back as she perches on the edge of the bed, stretching out. Her hair is still elaborately styled; what little of her makeup had survived the day still on her face.

She’d abandoned her dress on the floor the second that they got to their hotel room. She’s basically naked, which Ben seems perplexingly unbothered by; married, heterosexual life seems to have changed him quicker than she thought it would. It’s a relief, finally being alone with him. She’d have preferred to actually be alone, but after a day of forced smiles and overwhelm, he was better than nothing. 

“Absolutely,” Ben nods, sitting down to untie his shoes. He’s still wearing his tux - his black curls are coiffed back from his face, and he’d almost pass for straight, were it not for his meticulously groomed eyebrows. “I mean, I could have done with maybe seventy percent less beer and sports talk from your dad - I was starting to think he was onto me.” 

“I thought everyone knew there’s no home runs in football - that’s not a gay thing, you’re just dumb.” 

The shotgun wedding hadn’t really been a part of the plan, but after Bianca’s mom had found out that she was pregnant, and then proceeded to call her non-stop for weeks in order to berate her for bringing shame on the family like it was the fucking 1800s, Ben had suggested it. Her mother’s bizarre and endlessly changing standards of behavior continue to baffle Bianca.  

The decision to go ahead with it seemed a bit weird, but ‘weird’ had become a default preset of Bianca’s existence since January. Ben had thrown himself into the organization with immediate, over-the-top passion - opening up Pinterest and starting on the moodboard five minutes after Bianca had agreed to it. It had kept him entertained and out of the way, which was nice - he’d already started reading parenting books, and was being a little overbearing about prenatal vitamins and whether or not Bianca had made her birth plan yet. 

Outside of picking out her dress, Bianca hadn’t really had to do or think about anything. Marrying a gay man had its perks. She’d had a brief reprieve from Ben’s preemptive helicopter parenting, which gave her more energy to focus on finding bigger apartments, since otherwise the kid would be sleeping in the closet, and trying to convince her job that no, four weeks definitely wasn’t enough maternity leave. 

The wedding day had been quietly excruciating - her family, her mom specifically, engaging in that grim unspoken facade of keeping up appearances. Pretending that everything was completely fine and normal, denying any knowledge of Bianca’s pregnancy when asked about it. It would be embarrassing if it wasn’t so fucking normal for her. The atmosphere had been thorny, and Bianca had spent most of the day choking back alcohol-free prosecco and waiting for it to be over. 

Ben’s family - who seemed confused but generally enthusiastic about the whole ordeal, probably only half-buying Ben’s assertion that he was actually bi and Bianca was definitely the one - seemed to like Bianca though, and that was refreshing. Some kind of normalcy in As Yet Unnamed Kid’s extended family was deeply necessary. They, and Ben himself, had been the only bearable part of the whole thing. Plus they’d fronted most of the expenses and organized the reception at their country club, which was a damn sight better than the social hall of the church that Bea’s family pretended to attend. 

“Anyway, I’ve got proof that we’ve fucked at least once, so I don’t think anyone was super suspicious,” Ben continues as Bianca flops back onto the plush bed, letting out a heavy sigh. “How is she doing?” 

“She’s fine - she let Mommy keep all of her food down today, so that’s something,” Bianca says. 

She’s kind of starting to show now; although just to the point where she looks spectacularly bloated, rather than recognisably pregnant. They didn’t actually know what gender she was yet - but Bea had a feeling. Maybe it was more of a hope, actually; if it was a boy, Ben got to pick the name, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about calling it Raphael. 

The kid had been a little bitch recently - whenever Bianca tried to complain about it, Ben would just laugh and remind her that she clearly took after her mom. After a lot of smugness about how she’d not had morning sickness at all, it hit her like a truck for some reason the moment she hit her second trimester. She’d spent the better part of the month before the wedding bent over a toilet bowl. Bianca is already pretty fucking sick of being pregnant, and she’s not even halfway done - she’s always tired, and her boobs hurt, and she misses comfortable sleep and coffee. She thought that nine months with no booze would be the hard part, but dragging herself through life without caffeine is proving to be the real kicker. 

“This is weird,” Bianca muses, staring up at the ceiling.  

“What’s weird?” Ben turns to look at her, eyes landing on and then immediately flashing away from her exposed tits.  

“Try and think about it for like, slightly longer than you wanna think about it. You’re my husband, and I’m pregnant with your kid,” she says plainly. “In what universe was that ever something either of us would have wanted a year ago?" 

“Okay, so maybe you’re kind of messy and annoying, and you talk with your mouth full like, all the time and it’s really gross, but I can think of worse people to spend the rest of my life with,” he shrugs. Bianca swats at him with a pillow. 

“Thanks a lot.” She aims for pissed, but a smile cracks its way through. “Anyway, it’s not the rest of our lives - play pretend for a few years, then split up and go and live our truths or whatever once she moves out, like we agreed,” Bianca says. Ben nods knowingly.  

That was another aspect of things that she was a little hesitant about. Ben had meant what he said about sticking around and raising the kid, but they’d always planned for something more like coparenting. They’d have the baby, and then grow the fuck up and get their own relationships and apartments and lives while splitting custody. 

So, the sham marriage thing had interfered with that master plan quite a fucking lot. The situation had divulged into a years-long commitment to lying to people - no dating, since what was gonna happen when the kid started talking and blabbed to whatever set of grandparents about Daddy’s boyfriend? They were gonna be stuck living together for the foreseeable. So, even more keeping up of fucking appearances, which Bianca can’t stand doing it. But the ring on her finger is a glaring, expensive sign that she’s already committed.  

They’d talked about it already; pretend to everyone, including the kid, that everything was entirely fine and normal until she was old enough to understand it, get a divorce in about eighteen years, and go their separate ways while continuing to be friends if they could still stand the sight of each other. Easy. 

“Thinking about it like that just makes it sound worse,” Ben leans back to lie next to her, loosening his tie. “It’s gonna be fine. One step at a time.”

“Sure,” Bianca replies, distant. 

“I mean,” Ben rolls over onto his side, lowering his eyelids into an expression that Bianca imagines is supposed to be seductive. “It is our wedding night - how about round two?”

“Ew - no, never.” Bianca cracks a smile, pushing him away. Ben laughs. 

“Thank god, I barely got through saying that without puking.” He starts unbuttoning his shirt and glancing around the expansive bridal suite - still a mess from Bea getting ready that morning. “Do you want me to take the couch?”  

Bianca thinks for a second.

“Nah - that doesn't feel fair. I’ve been averaging getting up to pee about ten times a night though, so you can look forward to that.” She looks down at her belly, putting both hands around her barely-noticeable bump. “I hope you know you’re already a gigantic pain in my ass, baby.”  

****

September 29th, 2022  

Ben had left to go and get coffee - which is probably a good thing, since Bianca was getting tired of looking at him. He’d been…way too intensely supportive, to an extent that she’d found a little smothering. But at least he’d been there. Throughout the last nine months, Bianca had been worried that he was eventually going to get sick of her shit and leave her to deal with it by herself. She’d given him no shortage of shit to get sick of. 

The epidural hasn’t quite worn off yet; Bianca has no idea what sort of state her pussy is in, and she’s not sure she wants to know. She’s sweaty and exhausted, but she feels…good. For some reason. 

Her water had broken that morning. Ben had been at work - fatherhood looming over him and in desperate need of something more secure than his old three shifts a week at TGI Fridays, he’d picked up a job doing data entry or some other boring crap in an office full of middle-aged straight women about two months ago. Apparently it had been hilarious to watch his reputation as the super fun token gay guy shatter in real time when he’d announced to his boss in front of most of his coworkers that he had to leave because his wife had just gone into labor. 

Yeah, he’d been fucking insufferable with the constant ‘you’re doing amazing’s, but he was trying his best. Bea couldn’t exactly be mad at him - he’d just put up with eight hours of her screaming bloody murder and telling everyone who came near her to go fuck themselves. And she’s pretty sure she’d been gripping his hand so tightly she came close to breaking a couple of his fingers. 

The room is quiet now. It’s bliss, compared to the chaos of the last few hours - the mad rush of doctors and nurses and blood and sweat and swearing. It’s getting dark outside, the glow of the city lights flickering through the thin curtains. There’s a plastic crib next to Bianca’s bed, with a pink label on its side. Adore Del Rio, 6lbs 3oz. 

No matter how disgusting and tiring her day has been - and it was really tiring, and really, really fucking disgusting - a sense of enormous, beautiful calm had washed over Bianca when she held her daughter for the first time. Her daughter. 

She’d never felt anything like this before, looking down at the tiny, squishy, pink bundle in her arms. She’s asleep now, wrapped in a blanket and held to Bea’s bare chest. She’s so…little, and so delicate, Bianca thinks as Adore - her fucking daughter - wriggles and murmurs, reaching up for her with one perfect, miniature hand. The delicate curls of her wispy brown hair, and the gentle rise and fall of her chest as Bianca holds her close - she can’t believe that she fucking made her. She’s so perfect, and so goddamn fucking small - and Bianca feels both blissfully zen, and absolutely ready to tear anybody who tries to take Adore away from her limb from limb. 

She’s barely been here for an hour, and Bianca loves her more than she’s ever loved anything else before. 

*****

March 18th, 2041

“Did you finish your homework last night?”

“Yes.” Adore, lacking in any semblance of enthusiasm, grunts from the kitchen table; pulling out one of her earbuds and looking at Bianca with a mix of indignation and fury.   

“Then how come I’m getting emails from the school - again - about you not turning it in?” Bianca places the last clean plate on the dishrack and turns around, leaning against the counter and drying her wet hands on the ass of her jeans. That fails to elicit any form of response from her asshole teenager, and she tries again. “Come the fuck on, Dorey- it’s like you don’t even want to graduate.”

“Maybe I don’t?” She tilts her head, shit-eating grin on her face. That was a deliberate attempt at pissing her off - Bianca has gotten pretty good in recent years at telling those apart from Adore pissing her off without meaning to, and she tries not to let it. Even if her blood is already quietly simmering. 

“Oh, you absolutely do if you wanna keep living in this house-”

“Leave her alone, Bea.” Ben laughs, sitting opposite from Adore, as he looks up from the article he’s reading on his tablet. 

He only got home from work about an hour ago - most of Bianca’s days off fall on weekdays, so she’s been at home all day, doing pretty much nothing of note until Adore got home from school. They’d had a minor screaming match about the state of Adore’s room - Bianca had threatened to withhold phone privileges and her car keys until Adore relented, threw out the fifteen water bottles she’d been accumulating on her nightstand, and hid the rest of her mess in the closet. Fuck it, good enough. 

They only seemed to either argue or ignore each other when Ben wasn’t home which was…just fucking great. It made Bianca feel totally awesome about herself. But Ben is back, order has been restored, and Bianca is cleaning up after dinner like nothing had happened. 

“Whose side are you on?” Bianca replies, faux-shocked. “Fucking traitor.” 

“Clearly mine, because I’m his favorite,” Adore smirks. You don’t know the fucking half of it, Dorey. 

Bianca isn’t saying anything, but the way that Adore is looking at her tells her that she probably still looks mad. This recurring point of tension is getting several million miles up Bianca’s ass. 

Adore’s latest thing, with her last months of high school on horizon, has been threatening not to go to college. She’d gotten her applications in by some fucking miracle, and by even further fucking miracle had been accepted for a songwriting major at some prestigious music school that Bianca couldn’t remember the name of - and was now adamant that she wasn’t going, in favour of driving around the country with the ‘band’ that her and her dumbass friends had formed last summer, playing gigs in basements and doing god-knows what else. 

Bianca feels like she knows on some level that this is all talk; of course Adore is gonna graduate and go, she’s not stupid. But she’s been in the midst of a prolonged rebellious phase since she was about thirteen. Every time they fight about it, Bianca wants to shake Adore and tell her you’re gonna fucking do this because I couldn’t, stop being fucking ungrateful - but her failed aspirations aren’t Adore’s fault. 

It just annoys her. Adore, in every possible way, has had an easier life than Bianca ever did and she struggles not to hate her for it. Her future is available to her on a silver goddamn platter, she’s looking for reasons to not take it, and for fucking what? Being cool? 

Ben, against what had seemed like all odds when they were in their twenties, had really fallen upwards from the joint error that had changed the trajectory of both of their lives. That first ‘pay the bills’ office job doing whatever-the-fuck had unlocked Ben’s secret talent for playing corporate ball, and a little less than eighteen years later he was the CFO of an LGBT charity, and making what Bianca deemed to be a fucking stupid amount of money. Enough to afford their too-nice house in a too-nice neighborhood in West LA, and Adore’s too-nice performing arts high school. 

Bianca had climbed about as far up the ladder as she’d been able to, but given that she was a college dropout with no real experience in anything else, the depressing non-failure of retail store management was about the best she could manage. It wore her down; the feeling of uselessness and guilt as she inhabited this existence that felt a million miles above her means. 

“This is insane - have you guys read about this new Cookie Heaven thing they’re trialing?” Ben looks up again, breaking the frosty silence - Bianca disinterestedly flicking through her phone, Adore disinterestedly pretending to finish her homework. “Guys?” 

Ben had been bizarrely fixated on this emergent technology for the last year or so - some shit about consciousness transfers and virtual afterlifes that Bianca didn’t understand and didn’t care to. It made her skin crawl, not that she had any idea why. Truly, the rate at which Cookies as a principle had been developed, outlawed, un-outlawed, given rights, made illegal again but only in certain situations - it felt like it dominated the news, and with every possible turn it got weirder. Their trajectory had felt like trying to find a point for something that had been invented pointlessly. Criminal justice, entertainment, smart home tech, medical advances, god knows what else - Bianca just thought they were a bit macabre. 

“Nope, don’t want to. It’s creepy.” Bianca shudders, kicking off the process of shutting him up about it before he talks about it too much and gets under her skin. “Is this like that chick who died in that AR art thing at Burning Man and got stuck in the Cloud? Because that freaked me the fuck out.”

“Why? I think it’s really nice. According to this, they’ve been successful with people who’ve been uploaded prior to death, so now they’re looking at trialing it for long-term coma patients, end-of-life care, people with Alzheimer’s - it could be really promising.”

“Absolutely not - when I die, let me rest in fucking peace.” Bianca pulls a face.  “Don't throw some gross little computer clone of me into a weird simulation and force me to live forever - it’s weird. I don’t like it." 

“Bianca, Cookies aren’t just computers-” 

“It’s messed up.”

Adore shuffles uncomfortably in her seat, pushing her earbuds in further. Bianca half-watches her, pursing her lips. 

“I think it’s sweet. It says in the article that if this trial thing works, then they’re going to look at options for letting family members visit,” Ben says a little wistfully. 

“Ah.” It takes a moment of thought, but Bianca feels like an asshole. 

“Look, I just think that if something like that had been around thirty years ago, it would have been…” he stops, not sure how to finish his sentence. Ben’s mom died when he was ten, and that tragedy has been underpinning Adore’s entire adolescence; his constant anxiety over something happening to himself or Bianca, not wanting his daughter to have to suffer through the same lifelong, unshifting grief. “Think about Adore-”

“Yeah - maybe think about me enough to not have this conversation right in fucking front of me?” Adore bolts to her feet, her hands clasped at her sides. Her eyes look moist. Bianca half-opens her mouth, trying to say something, but no words make their way out. “This is freaking me out - stop it!”

She scrubs at her eyes furiously with a balled fist, storming out of the room and letting the door swing shut behind her with a thud. 

“Dorey-” Ben calls out weakly after her. 

“What the fuck was that?” Bianca walks around the table, slumping down into the seat Adore had just been occupying. She hears Adore’s bedroom door slam from upstairs. 

“I dunno - I guess that got a little heavy? I mean, who wants to sit around and listen to their parents talking about what’s gonna happen when they die?” Ben looks uncomfortable, chewing at his bottom lip. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”  

“Yeah,” Bianca replies distantly, not really listening. 

“I do mean it, though.” Ben says, leaning across the table - looking past Bianca’s folded arms and frosty expression. “If I’d had some way to still talk to my mom - even if it wasn’t fully real, even if it was just a simulation - I’d have wanted that. And I don’t think it’s fair that we should stop Adore from having that chance.”

“What, so I have to commit to being alive forever even when I don’t want to, for her benefit? I don’t think she even likes me anymore, Ben - she wouldn’t care.” Bianca sounds more morose than she wants to, but it’s true. She loves Adore, but god knows the kid is going out of her way to make that difficult. 

“Believe me, she would.” Ben looks at her a little too seriously. “I’m just saying I think we should look into it.” 

“Look into it all you want - I’m not doing it.” 

“Seriously, Bea-” Ben is looking at her with puppy eyes and it’s making her feel nauseous. “For Adore?”

There’s loud music blasting upstairs, and Bianca is wondering if it’s Adore picking up an old habit of putting her speakers on when she’s crying, so that nobody can hear her. She wants to go and check on her, but she’s glaringly aware that any interference from her is perceived as a pending attack by Adore right now - how powerless she feels hurts. Bianca looks at the floor, picking at her cuticles. 

 “Fine.”

*****

August 4th, 2042

“So, I’m sure this isn’t gonna come as a shock to you, but your dad and I got a divorce.” 

Adore’s eyes practically pop out of her head as she spits her coffee out. More of it gets on Bianca’s face than she would have liked. 

“What?” 

“I don’t think I left much room for interpretation there, Dorey,” Bianca grimaces, wiping secondhand iced latte off of her cheek with a napkin. 

“Yeah, okay, whatever. Why the fuck did you get a divorce?” Adore looks sullen. Almost angry, actually. 

Regardless of how different they’d seemed to become as she’d grown up, every so often Bianca was hit with a very, very strong reminder that Adore was her mother’s daughter. Calm and rational, per fucking usual. 

She’d debated back and forth with Ben about who should tell her. They’d been dancing around the subject since June, when Adore had first come home for summer; practically rehearsing the conversation. Eventually they’d settled on Bianca - Ben had admitted himself that Bianca’s at times abrasive directness was the way forward. Adore didn’t hold well with people pussyfooting around her, and Ben was always a little too delicate with her feelings. He’d been the ideal Good Cop to Bianca’s bad one when Adore was little - but she was nineteen now, had moved out almost a year ago, and was as close to a real adult as she was realistically ever gonna be. She needed someone to be straight with her. And, well, out of the two of them, Bianca was probably the closest thing to straight. Even after nearly twenty years of marriage. 

The split itself had been more than amicable, since years of planning had gone into it. The only slight point of contention had been, in the process of unpicking and rewriting both of their advanced directives, Ben had been pretty insistent on her keeping the part about San June-whatever-the-fuck - that weird Cookie Heaven thing which she’d hoped would just be a passing fad when Ben brought it up last spring, but had only gained more traction and more apparent success. 

She’d tried to reason with him about Adore being a grown-up now, and how she’d made it through the last year without shuffling off this mortal coil, and so their respective deaths were probably a far-future issue that they shouldn’t be so worried about right now, but it hadn’t flown. Bianca had spent long enough in lawyers’ offices debating bullshit to have any useful argument left in her. She’d thought the divorce process would be less of a nightmare since it was agreed upon by both parties prior to the fucking wedding, but apparently she’d thought wrong.

“Because we…” Bianca sighs, facepalming. Adore has tears in her eyes. Shit, she really hadn’t been expecting this. “Because he’s gay, Adore.” 

Adore’s eyes pop again. Bianca clamps a hand over her mouth before she gets a chance to cover her in overpriced coffee again. 

“Daddy’s gay?” Adore blurts out as soon as she manages to swallow. 

“Duh?” That just tumbles out of Bianca’s mouth without any real thought. “Are you really telling me that you never suspected anything?” 

“No? I thought he was just like…I dunno, really into theater. Did you just find out? Holy shit, are you okay?” Adore reaches for Bianca’s hand a little frantically. Bianca laughs, shaking her head. 

“Nope - I’ve always known. Dorey, I…” she sighs again, realizing how ridiculous this sounds. “Listen, when a gay man and a bisexual live together, and they get really, really drunk this one time…” 

“Ohmigod, you’re bi?” 

How unobservant is this fucking kid? 

“Yeah - surprise. Now you know why we were so fucking chill about it when you cut all your hair off and started begging for a pair of Doc Martens when you were twelve,” Bianca says, chuckling. 

A confused look washes over Adore’s face. “But I…you always seemed so in love.”

“We decided we were gonna get married and pretend to be normal so that we didn’t fuck you up,” Bianca shrugs. “Which clearly worked super well.” 

Adore cracks a smile. It feels good to see her smile. 

Since Adore moved out for college - miracle of fucking miracles - the rift between them that her teenage years had created seemed to fill itself in. Bianca felt closer to her; felt the warmth of her love without hesitation or denial for the first time in years. She was like a different person. Happy - blossoming into herself. She’d started posting her music on social media, and was getting enough buzz to land gigs here and there. And she hadn’t just stopped pushing Bianca away, but had started actively reaching out for her. She called her at least once every couple of days because she missed her; messaged her constantly. Just frivolous little updates about her days, or pictures of dogs that she’d seen - silly little shit. But it felt good. 

She’d worried that it wouldn’t last. But Adore had come home for summer, and as it trailed to an end, there’d been no second coming of their years-long bitch-feud. Everything had been fucking glorious. 

“Boo, you’re mean,” Adore says playfully. 

“For the record, we were good at faking being in love because we both love you,” Bianca says, reaching out to take Adore’s hand. She’s bitten off two of her acrylics again - Bianca is a little suspicious about which two exactly, and briefly debates calling her out for it. Whatever - she’s an adult, she can do what she wants. But Bianca is taking her to get a manicure once they get done oversharing in the middle of this cafe, because it looks like shit. “That’s not gonna change. But you’re probably gonna end up with stepparents.” 

Adore looks down. She’s always done this cute little smirky thing when she’s embarrassed - eyes fixed to the floor, quietly smiling to herself. Bianca loves it. 

“Are you dating anyone right now?” 

Bianca rolls her eyes. 

“We’re not dating-dating. But yeah - her name is Katya, I met her online.”

“Is she hot?”

“None of your business - she’s too old for you anyway,” Bianca shoots Adore a warning look. “Your dad was on a date last night, too - some guy called Darius, apparently it went really well. But I’m gonna look into getting his room soundproofed.” 

“Ewwww,” Adore clamps her hands over her ears, laughing. “You’re being gross. Stop being gross.” 

“Don’t ask questions you’re not prepared to hear the answer to,” Bianca grins. “Are you good now? Or do you feel like spitting coffee all over me again? I really enjoyed it that first time.” 

“Honestly? I always wondered why none of my friends’ parents had their own bedrooms,” Adore thinks out loud. Bianca shakes her head, chuckling. 

“I love you so much, you fucking moron.”

Pride Challenge Points: 10,312

[blissfullybloomed]

“The music is all around us. All you have to do is listen”- Freddy Highmore, August Rush

Good Morning beautiful people! Everyone loves music….yeah, actually everyone. 

Isn't it the coolest thing when you can find people that listen to the same type of music as you do?

When one person enjoys jazz(my papaw), one enjoys electronic dance music(YALL), one or two enjoy native american flute music(my spa peeps), and some more enjoy Simon & Garfunkel(my old-er peeps.) That's when you see  the universal language of music has now brought together different cultures, ideas, and personalities. 

Music has been around since the dawn of time. It's also evolutionary….Just like we are. We as humans evolve into different versions of ourselves as we grow and mature into adults. Our musical preferences change and grow too. I can't imagine you were listening to Buddy Bolden(African-American jazz pioneer from New Orleans), when you were five years old. If you were…you had some dope parents! Your parents and your surroundings subjected you to different types of music, people and places. You know what's cool though? When you find someone else who also listens to Buddy Bolden…and knows his history- you now have a new friend. 

I have curated sooooo many relationships over music. I once fell in love with someone from Sweden over music….it's an entire feeling yall. He had music I had never heard before, and we bonded over that. Still friends to this day!  When you find the music that takes your breath away, and makes the hair on your neck stand up….that's magic. That's love in my opinion. And yeah…music makes me extremely emotional when it hits right. 

I was in a band (YEAH- Im a total band geek through and through) for eight years. I remember they came in during 5th grade and asked us to try and make noise through all these brass instruments….Im not a brass person…LOL. I found my home with the clarinet. I think I was the 6th generation clarinet player? Fam…help me out with that one. No clue…but the clarinet is cool…I still have a hard time “hearing the beat” when reading music for the first time ....but once I hear the tune, I'm golden. Someone has to play the tune for me to hear….communicating musically…universal language. Music is the best. 

Music has let me live through a lot of trauma in my life as well. I'm sure several of you reading this know exactly what I'm talking about here. If you dont…next time you feel happy, play a sad song…see what happens. Your entire mood shifts. Your brain was like….uhm, HALP! 

This is also where this blog may offend you….hang in with me…

I remember being young in church, standing proudly and singing with my gran and papaw to songs like, “ How Great Thou Art”, and I would secretly stop singing so I could hear them sing together. It is still to this day one of my favorite church memories. Papaw's voice is super deep like the ocean, and gran…your voice is honestly angelic. You two are incredible people. Love you very much. I haven't been to church, or listened to any type of that musical genre since I was young. 

I remember riding to the campground in Bellefontaine,Ohio listening to the emo punk rock band,  My Chemical Romance,  with a friend. We didn't listen to it quietly either. We also were not sober when we would listen to it….at the time…I thought that was the best part. Not being sober, and being able to “lose “ myself in music. I didn't want to be in reality at that time of my life ...loud music got me through though…and so did my friend. Unfortunately, we fell out permanently. We had different paths, and that's okay. In hindsight, we both had each other …through one of the hardest, and unimaginable times in both our lives. Still a universal language, and musical communication. 

I remember hearing a man sing Disney songs in his truck- because he couldn't have know Disney music! I later married that man. He introduced me to Boyce Avenue(cover band), Journey….whew…this one is hard. Damn, I said two sentences, and I forgot how to type.

You got it Vic, keep moving. 

 I remember him acting an absolute idiot singing AeroSmith. This person is now my ex-husband. I fell in love with him over Disney music. The reason…my favorite childhood memory is watching Little Mermaid over and over again until the VHS Tape couldn't play anymore. He knew every word to not just Little Mermaid…all of em. He was a disney fanatic too.  That was all it took for me...I'm not sure he even knows that. I am very thankful for that small gift of musical communication…it united us. We are still supportive friends to this very day. Love you dude. Thank you. 

All of these musical memories have history, language, love, rage and vulnerability attached to them.

Each one a catalyst to the other in my own personal timeline. 

Each is a universal language that someone else understood during a time. 

In closing, music has saved my life more than once. Well cats too, but we aint talking about them yet. If you ever find yourself in the deepest depths of yourself and you feel like you can't claw your way out…try music. Just try it …see if it speaks to you. 

I bet it will. 

“La música es hermosa”

“Muzyka jest piekna”

“Muziki ni mzuri”

Yeah…its spanish, polish, and Swahili….get some education! I'm kidding of course…but while you're still here…go look up some polish music ….it's the coolest! 

Peace!

[pbandjesse]

My neck is doing better but is still very stiff. And I just had one of the worst charlie horses in my calf I have ever had. Like I can't fully stand up on my heel because it stretches my leg down and I am not having fun. And James is in New York and is sending me very confusing texts which has me all out of sorts. I don't like feeling so confused.

I didn't have a bad day though. It was fine. The best thing that happened today was finishing my blanket. That made me so happy. Helen said I was running around showing it off with a big smile like it was my baby. And it's true,n it feels that way.

I started the day feeling fine enough. I apparently snoozed my alarm though and I don't remember doing so which frustrated me. I would feel alright. Neck still stuff but not as painful. I got dressed and ready. I felt like I was forgetting something though and as we were leaving I realized I forgot my rings. James went back for them and that made me feel a little better.

Breakfast was correct this time. And we got to the market before 8. Even with leaving a few minutes late so I'm pretty impressed.

I was fully in charge today and because my focus was so much on that I was not a very good salesperson I always sold one sticker pack and that was it. But because I was getting paid to be there I don't care as much honestly. I was happy to stand at the market table next to my table and work on my blanket. I finished sewing the last rose together within the first hour and then I spent the next 2 hours working on the sewing down it tail ends. They're not all done but at least it's mostly finished and it looks great and I'm so proud of it. I think there's like 60 hours into this blanket. And I am really thrilled with the final product. I still might put a fleece back on it but honestly because I've sewn down the edges so well I don't even know if it needs it. I'm still really happy though and I just want everyone to know all about it.

I also had some really nice conversations with people. As people were getting set up I had to ask two of the smaller distilleries to be next to each other in one spot but there were super chill about it. And then because the charcuterie people came I had to move the Puerto Rican distillery all the way down to the end but I gave them the option for spots and they picked their favorite one so no one was mad at me. And then I found out that four of us are not going to be there next weekend so it's going to be kind of a sparse market because it's like Jenny and bread and food and it's I don't know what they're going to do without us. I'm the least of the concerns but still my energy will not be there.

James came out to buy breakfast and baked goods and while we were paying a woman was looking at my blanket and trying to understand them notes that I append to it and so I went over to chat with her and she was so nice and very encouraging. And I started explaining to some older women about at the construction and I was like you know a potholder loom this is essentially a blanket made a pod holders. And it made me laugh and it made them laugh and it was just a good way of explaining what I had done since I didn't have my wing with me to have a visual. But I very happily stood there and worked on sewing down those edges until about noon.

When I finally made a sale. I sold my sticker pack to a lovely girl around my age. And she ran over to her friends to tell them about the stickers and they were all very excited and I got a little boost of pride because they were so interested in my stickers. I need to order more of the jobs and I want to get some drawing done tomorrow. Tomorrow my big plan is to work on my Native American field trip PowerPoints. Because I have need two of them. I might just make one PowerPoint though and just like have a an opening and closing section but regardless I would like to also get a little bit of drawing done and some deciding on what my next stickers will be. I also would like at some point to make a better sticker display and packaging but for now I'm happy with what I got.

Once everyone was done at the market I packed up real quickly and went inside to talk to James and have them take a picture of me holding my blanket. And I chatted with Stanley and Bob and my neck was doing a lot better and my back was doing a lot better but I was still tired and I didn't want to stay till 2:00 but I stayed until everyone was out of the pavilion which is what I've been told to do in the past. I walked down to the water after sitting with James for a while. There were jellyfish and I was really excited about that because I love seeing the jellyfish in the harbor. And I even saw some fish and it was like a whole school of fish swimming back and forth and that was neat to see too. And honestly was a really beautiful day for how humid it could have been with the storms coming in tomorrow and this upcoming week. I was in a really good mood though and while I was very happy to be done and going home I was also not dying of exhaustion like sometimes I am.

After I said goodbye to James I got myself together in the car and went home. There was a little bit of traffic but it apparently cleared up before it became an issue. And I got home before 2:00.

When I got back here I brought my bags in and my blanket and hung the blanket up on my garment rack in the studio. I'm hoping that the weight of itself will pull the stitches a little bit so that I can see if there's any failure marks or failure points. Anything that needs to be reinforced. And I got a little shower and I changed into a soft shirt and then I laid down.

I watched a video for a little bit but then I fell asleep. I woke up at 4:00 as James was getting ready to go. They looked so handsome and it was just nice looking at them. I really could have gone with them to New York but I have no interest in seeing basketball game and it will be nice to get some work done tomorrow. Have some time alone. I gave them a very big hug and told them to be safe and then they were off.

I would get up soon after that and when and had some food. And then I played a game on my tablet for a little while and then I painted my nails. But I ended up messing up my pointer and thumb on my right hand because I started working on my next knit project and I could not wait until my nail polish was dry obviously so I messed it up and took it off those two fingers. Maybe I will repaint them later but I was very much into this new project.

The new knit squares are going to be much larger than the last ones they're 19 rows across instead of 12 which doesn't sound like it's that much more but it is. Originally with the small squares they take about 15 minutes, the new squares take 45 to an hour. I think I'll get faster as I'm going but I am very pleased with the size that I have chosen. I didn't have the right size hoop so I just marked off on a medium sized hoop how many pegs I needed and I think it will work out just fine. I honestly can probably get two done because I can do one on each side but I'm not going to worry about that right now.

I would watch a documentary and eventually take a longer bath. My hair feels very strange and flat today. And I keep looking at my pictures from like May and my hair looks so much different than it did and I don't know why. I know I cut some at the beginning of the summer but the shape of my head looks weird today. But even pictures from like 2 weeks ago it looks fine so I know it's all in my head. Well I mean my hair is on my head but you know what I mean.

I've been hanging out in bed since then. Which is when I had a horrible Charlie horse in my calf that hurts so bad and felt like it lasted for so long. And I was very distressed and I texted James and James started talking about laying in a hammock and how it was probably worse than a hammock and I'm like what are you talking about I'm nowhere near a hammock. For some reason they thought I was at camp? They have the car! So then I was all confused because they were talking about hammocks and then talking about the days of the week and I was like what are you talking about and I was worried because they worked 8 hours and then drove for 4 hours to get to New York so I was like are they just over tired what is going on. But they are safely in New York with family and everything is fine. They're going to a basketball game tomorrow with their friends and it's going to be fine. But that was very upsetting at the beginning of this post while I was texting them. Everything is settled now We are talking about other stuff They know I am home I know where they are. I'm going to try to stretch my leg and searching out ready for sleep.

I have a long day of working on the computer tomorrow so hopefully it is nice and if it rains it's not too bad. I hope that you all have a very nice night tonight. And you sleep good. Until next time my friends. Goodnight everybody.

[xtruss]

I Lost White Friends When I Finally Spoke Out

— Leron L. Barton | Wednesday July 26, 2023

LeRon L. Barton (Pictured) tells Newsweek about the racist experiences he has had with his white friends over the years. Courtesy: LeRon L. Barton

Having friendships with different types of people is a wonderful concept. To learn, trade ideas, have great experiences, and grow with folks from all kinds of backgrounds is a goal that I have always wanted to achieve.

As someone who loves gaining knowledge and immersing myself in various customs, it's essential for me to expand my social circle. I have friends who are Black like myself, Chinese, Filipino, Mexican, Italian, Salvadoran, Irish, Indigenous, and Arab. We discuss politics, food, sports, music, traveling, film, and life. I love having a wealth of friends that will bring different perspectives in life, and that I can impart wisdom to as well.

However, race and racism have always been difficult to discuss with white people due to the possibility that they may deflect, or be in denial—which is why the subject of race has been the hardest to broach.

Remembering back as a young kid, my family did not have a lot of white friends. It is not because they didn't like them; my cousin married a white woman. It's just that in Kansas City, Missouri, our social circles did not cross.

My grandparents, mother, and father instilled a lot of Black pride in us. We were taught that everyone is the same, but also that Black is beautiful. For me, that was necessary living in a time that told you that you were the opposite.

My brother and I went to a predominately white school and mostly played with Black kids. Still, like many African-Americans, we welcomed white people and held no malice toward them.

I did not make any white friends until my junior year in high school. We all played sports together, listened to hip-hop, and ate the same food. Plenty of friend groups were integrated, including mine. We had Black, white, Asian, Mexican, Puerto Rican, and Indigenous folks in our clique.

It was dope to be able to learn, build, and enjoy other cultures. However, I always noticed there was a difference in how people of color interacted with each other and how my white friends did. There was a warmth in how we hung out. My family welcomed them and vice versa.

But when it came to my white friends, I felt there was a ceiling, a stopping point. A lot of the interactions were surface-level and not deep.

I was always race conscious; being in Kansas City does that to you. It was, and continues to be, a very segregated city. Still, I would try to laugh off racist jokes I heard at work and amongst people in social situations.

I can recall during an offsite lunch event, police entered the restaurant and a coworker joked: "Oh they must be looking for you LeRon." They all laughed, and me being the only Black person at the table, brushed it off and tried to laugh along with it.

My white friends and associates would ask me things like: "Do you play basketball? Do you know anyone that sells drugs? Have you ever been in a gang?"

And they even asked if it was okay for them to say the N-word in a rap song.

These were my day-to-day interactions with white people. I am not trying to paint them all as being harmful and bad, but I have to be honest.

Things began to change for me in 2012. Trayvon Martin was murdered and there was this national conversation about race. Many people had been arguing both sides of the incident.

When I would talk to my white friends about the shooting, the protests, and the uprisings that followed, they would say things like: "What was he doing out there that late? Do we know for sure if he attacked Zimmerman? Why protest and destroy property?"

It was almost as if the rose-colored glasses I had were flung off. When unarmed Black men such as Mike Brown and Alton Sterling were killed by the police, I would see negative comments on social media from friends.

Someone that I had known for years had complained about the protests destroying their quiet neighborhood. Other folks would say "All Lives Matter" or "What about Black-on-Black crime?"

These were the same people that loved Michael Jordan, listened to Snoop Dogg, and cheered Ray Lewis as they watched the Super Bowl. It was as if they only consumed Blackness as entertainment, not as people.

Soon after, I began to write about being Black in America. I would call out racism white explicitly and highlight the inequities of police arrests and shootings, employment, health disparities, and home ownership.

Some white friends noticed my shift in tone and faded away. My televised interviews and podcast appearances became too much for some. I was known as "militant" to a few folks and angry to others.

One friend in particular could not understand why I was so mad. I explained to him it was because as a Black man, if I scare a white woman or make a white law enforcement officer nervous, that could be my life.

He then said: "I don't see you as Black, just as a man." I replied: "That is the problem, you don't want to acknowledge the issue here, racism." He and I stopped talking shortly after.

I was the cool guy when we were going drinking, clubbing, and talking about non-serious things, but when I discuss "The Talk", a conversation that Black parents have with their children on how to survive when they reach a certain age, I am too serious or divisive.

I realized the ceiling I have with many white people and have accepted it.

I've met other Black people that do not have white friends. While I do not subscribe to nor agree with that thought, I do not judge them. Being Black, or being any racialized person in a world that tells you you are less than, is hard. Having to justify your existence every day to people you are close to is even harder.

I think back to this quote I read from Stud Terkel's masterful book Race. Terkel is interviewing a young African-American man who does not have white friends. He asks the guy: "Why do you only hang out with Black people?" The young man laughs and says: "I don't have to worry about them being racist." I think about that sometimes.

Today, I have a few white friends that are "grandfathered" in. Seriously, they are people, such as one of my best friends "Frosty," that I can have serious discussions about racism and how we can change the system. New friends are "vetted."

Writing and discussing race is a very important part of my life. If I have to argue with you about why we are upset when another unarmed Black man is shot by the police, this is not going to work. If I have to explain to you why saying the "N-word" is wrong, cultural appropriation is bad, something innocuous as the slogan "Black Lives Matter" is a positive thing, or why Malcolm X is my personal hero, then this friendship will not work out. I am not teaching "Intro to Blackness 101."

Some reading this may say: "Well LeRon, what if people don't know? We have to teach them."

To that, I say no.

I believe that Black people live in a country that constantly tries to strangle every bit of self-respect, pride, individuality, love, and life out of them. It is an everyday challenge for us to maintain our mental health.

I ask white people who are well-meaning to practice self-reflection. Interrogate your racist blind spots. Educate yourselves. Fight against the system that oppresses us and others.

Black people do not have enough time in the day to survive and help you become not racist. Being a friend is about accountability and work.

— LeRon L. Barton is a Writer, Author, and Speaker.

[estrellami-1]

I’m glad you’re doing better now and that you have a platonic soulmate and she’s there for you that sounds lovely, haha I hadn’t really thought about it like that before how subjects like science and math change all the time but English is taught the same, in my area there’s even a dialect change from the last 50 years or so where older people use different forms of the same words I suppose? Like they’ll say idear instead of idea but that might just be a southern public schools aren’t generally fantastic kind of thing now that I think about it 😅 I’m happy to hear your grammar related tangents anytime and I would definitely read your book. Sorry for the anons that’s kind of cowardly of me, I’m shy and I do very much value your friendship and the idea that you might want to be my friend less if I came off anon is nerve wracking though I will say a pitfall of being anonymous is I started writing this message earlier and then got distracted with work and the app had refreshed by the time I came back so I spent like 10 minutes trying to remember if I had already sent it lol, I love you too 💜

She is lovely!! ❤️ yeah it’s really interesting (to me lol) to think about, and I have SO many ideas already! 😂 yeah I think that might be a local dialect type thing; I’m thinking you’re American so correct me if not, but think of the difference between north & south when using the words pop/coke/cola/soda or shopping cart/buggy/etc. Everyone knows what you mean, but there’s too many variations to try and put in a book. Not to mention your background depends on which variation you use, not just where you live/were born. Same thing with idea/idear, though I suspect that’s more of an accent thing. But also yes public schools in general, not just in the south, really aren’t fantastic 😅

No no no!! I completely understand why you’re on anon, I’m just trying to reassure you that I won’t think of you any differently if you do decide to come off it. And oof I get that! 😩 I’m primarily on mobile so I’ve done that SO many times… especially when I’m trying to write! I’ll end up losing the majority of a part and I’ll have to start all over again. ❤️