#i’ve never been able to make any kind of appointment without my mom | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

devilsskettle · 5 months ago

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okay i do think i need to start getting serious about getting tested for adhd soon <- been an active conversation since i was 8 years old + my mom only got diagnosed with adhd after i told her i thought i might have adhd in high school so she started looking into it more in an adult context but she was talking to my teachers and doctors about it since elementary school and nobody ever fucking helped me and based on her experience with the diagnosis process i don’t fucking trust any of these fucking doctors it seems like they actively want you to struggle as much as possible to even humor the tiny tiny tiny possibility that your suspicions of adhd symptoms could maybe have some basis and i honestly can’t think about having a doctors appointment without imagining chewing out some poor random doctor for everything about this process that i’m mad about that i will definitely project onto them which may or may not be fair but will not be helpful for me to do lol but it took me almost 10 years to finally go to a doctor and be like hey i think i am severely depressed and have been for a long time and i literally never went back to my pcp because of how dismissive she was of my experience when i asked her about adjusting my medication and that’s one of the “easy” mental illnesses to have hahaha and now i’m scared they’re going to use my depression as leverage that since poor concentration is a depressive symptom that might rule out adhd and like there is some possible overlap with symptoms but for a while i’ve been like well i think there is more at play here actually, i feel like i’m having some other problems that aren’t really depressive symptoms and i’ve even had suspicions that i could be bipolar because i have some stretches of time when i have more energy and can be a lot more. well. hyperactive. hmmmm. and i’m always like could this be mania? i don’t think it’s severe enough to be mania tbh but could it be hypomania? or is this normal? tbh it doesn’t seem normal either but have i been depressed so long that i don’t know what normal is? but if that IS part of my baseline and i am hyperactive sometimes because i have a disorder with “hyperactivity” in the name then that would actually make a lot more sense not to mention problems with executive function, bad grades, obsessive focus on whatever thing i’m into at any given moment, time management problems, racing thoughts, chronic boredom and understimulation. and look i know it’s trendy rn and i know that they could easily see me as a drug seeker especially because if i were to be diagnosed i would want to be medicated (i wish i was still medicated for my depression tbh but again i dropped my pcp 2 years ago and never looked back so i ran out of antidepressants ages ago. rip) but i think its unfair to use that against people who just want to be able to be on the same level of adult functioning as everybody else because i cannot keep up with basic household tasks and work full time and be in school part time (i’m not even in classes rn because it’s the summer and there’s no way i could be in this program if it weren’t offered online and even then i absolutely did fail a class last semester and i’m still waiting to see what the consequences of that are gonna be. hehehe.) but like the state of my room is appalling, mainly exacerbated by my laundry situation in that i never fully put it away AND i think there’s something wrong with our dryer, i always just get random “groceries” like quick meals and snacks from fucking cvs because it’s too expensive to get real groceries delivered especially since when am i going to actually cook???? our kitchen isn’t huge anyway but i definitely don’t have the kind of energy i need to cook AND do the dishes which i am so bad at doing that i have stopped using dishes, i will use a paper towel or i will buy stuff that is already in a container so i don’t have to dirty any more dishes. which is why i have no dishes in our sink rn or for the past couple of months JUST FOR THE RECORD but its not because i’m a paragon of cleanliness and maturity lol

obligatory paragraph change because of the character limit!! i have had to be given multiple “verbal warnings” at work for frequent enough tardiness that it was noticeable and on one hand it’s like lol a verbal warning. okay i am shaking in my boots but it’s also just another mark against me in the opinions of the people making decisions about who might get promoted or not and i don’t have a great “escape plan” from this current job especially since i don’t know where my future will lie academically with my current grades and that was like. my whole plan to have a better career trajectory lmao so another option could be 1) apply to be a supervisor in my current department if a position ever opens up? <- won’t happen because they think i’m “timid and shy” and consistently late and don’t like me or think of me in any position of authority even though i know everything there is to know about my current department other than like. ordering stuff for the store and how to close the cash drawer at the end of the day which supervisors and managers do. 2) apply for a job in a different department <- also won’t happen because a lot of positions require a drivers license for no apparent reason and they’re super weird sometimes about hiring internally and as we established they don’t like me or see me in any other role despite consistently, i believe, demonstrating my competence. we have performance reviews coming up this month and i am basically ready to jump off a bridge anticipating bad feedback for stupid reasons. but my manager said good things last time so maybe i can start saving some evidence of good feedback to whip out if i ever do apply for anything internally. even making the switch from part time to full time in the same role same department same everything was like a truly painful and humiliating experience i am not prepared to do all that again hahaha. anyway. ummmm all that is to say that i do think there are some behavioral problems i have that could be symptoms of adhd that are negatively impacting my life in a significant way. but w/e idk what doctor will ever listen to me because i’m so “timid and shy” <- said this twice in quotes because that’s a real thing the guy from hr said to me when i first applied to switch to full time and i did give him pushback on that in the interview but like that’s how people see me because i have a naturally soft speaking voice and i don’t say everything that i think all the time and don’t need to be the center of attention constantly or beg for other people’s approval and i mind my own business!! i’m in guest services i’m literally not too timid to talk to people lmao and the coworkers i like i can be very chatty with. he said this after meeting me twice for 5 minutes in a role i wasn’t usually scheduled in at the time and all of my performance feedback was based off of that. sigh. one of my coworkers who is this sweet older lady calls him “the rat” and literally hates everyone in hr so much hahaha it’s honestly so validating to me. anyway they don’t diagnose quiet girls with adhd but luckily i’m not successful like my mom was so i have a lot more “evidence” that this could be a real problem than she did and she was still definitively and emphatically diagnosed with adhd by a specialist who did NOT want to diagnose her with adhd and told her as much. so maybe they’ll see it as something real that they should really consider and give me a real solution for but i don’t trust that they will at all tbqh the process that my mom went through seems like my personal hell of paperwork and doctors appointments and talking about your feelings and your failures and having a series of people dismiss you and actively work against you to get anything productive done. AAAAAA but i do feel like i need to do it if i want to stop wasting my life and try to get on the right track again and if they really really really tell me i’m wrong and that i don’t have adhd then i will listen as long as they give me some next steps to help me figure out what the actual problem is then. tbh though like i said

another obligatory paragraph break!! i’ve considered other possibilities and part of the diagnosis process is ruling out any other possible underlying causes but before typing the word “hyperactive” about how i sometimes get a burst of energy for a couple days like that, i did not even make a connection between when i wondered if i could be manic/hypomanic vs whether that could be adhd hyperactivity unhampered by depressive gloom. like i kind of want to pull my hair out in frustration feeling kind of dumb that i considered mania before i considered the hyperactivity disorder hahahaha but anyway. i will send some emails tomorrow morning, my mom (unprompted by me) sent me an email with a bunch of resources to get tested lmao and since she has already gone through it i feel like i can at least see what happens and my process will probably be a lot easier than hers for a LOT of reasons (childhood history + testimony from people who have known me from my childhood to now, family history obviously, demonstrable evidence of adverse effects on my life and general adult functioning) so i should at least try before i really fucking lose my mind or fuck up my life any more than i already have lol

#long stream of consciousness vent post because i’m still so Awake rn #and also i thought about a hypothetical future scenario too hard and pissed myself off thinking about it so. rip.

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roundtriptojupiter · 1 year ago

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i just sprinted across campus to escape the rain, and now i want to talk about my experiences as a cane user while i remember how to breathe again.

i started using a cane 4 years ago, at the end of elementary school. i’ve been chronically disabled (likely fibromyalgia, but currently diagnosed with myofascial pain syndrome; it’s an inaccurate diagnosis, but at least it’s something) my entire life—i struggled to sit cross-legged in kindergarten because it hurt too much, and the first accommodation i ever needed was permission to sit in a normal chair during circle time. i was born early, and both of my parents had issues with their legs in their lives; my father as a child learning to walk, and my mother in her teens, until she got knee surgery when she was 19, but neither were the same as what i have.

i’ve always been an indoor person. i’ve never enjoyed sports, but to this day i don’t know if that’s because i genuinely don’t like them, or because i always end up hurt. so my parents always thought i was just lazy and exaggerating and needed to get in shape. the third one always makes me laugh. when i look at myself in the mirror, i can count all of my ribs. i inherited it from my dad; his nickname was ‘rice’ in high school because he was white and skinny. maybe i’ll grow out of it, i don’t know. people tell me i look sick, and it kind of sucks to tell them that they’re right.

the old pastor at the church i grew up in was a professional volleyball player. there was an inter-church volleyball tournament held every year, and monthly volleyball games within the congregation. when i was in elementary school, i loved it. i loved volleyball more than any other sport i’d ever played; for the most part, i didn’t have to run anywhere, and that was what made the difference. and players were swapped around a lot, so i got a lot of breaks, and it seemed like... maybe i had just been lazy. maybe this was my lucky break.

and my parents signed me up for volleyball camp. i don’t remember how old i was—maybe twelve, thirteen? i could do the math, but my brain is too exhausted. it was only a week long. we did drills, we played games; every day i went back to my parents sobbing and exhausted, with burning red marks on my arms, barely able to stand and far worse than any other child there, even the other ‘lazy’ ones. that was the moment everyone in my life finally realized that something was wrong.

thus started a long, frustrating process and the wonders of the canadian healthcare system.

people love to compliment canada’s healthcare. they love to compare it to usamerica’s, they love to stand on their soapbox and say how great it is— i can always tell whether those people are disabled or not. because, yes. there are a lot of pros. but anybody who preaches that it’s wonderful and flawless will get my cane to their shins. because the reality is, the wait lists span years, and even when you live five minutes away from one of the best youth hospitals in the country, maybe even north america, sometimes they’ll put you through hell for three years straight, then give you the wrong diagnosis, throw an attempt at fixing you at the wall that doesn’t work, and then expect you to move on with your life.

i only have two vivid memories of that three-year process while i was still in elementary school: the beginning, and the end. my first major specialist appointment was with a neurologist. he stuck pins in my leg and arm and sent electric shocks through them to evaluate muscle responses. it was one of the worst pains i’ve ever felt. to this day, i can’t sustain a static shock without my leg buckling or my hand seizing up. my mom held my hand, and i was screaming; i still cry when i think about it. the test came back with nothing.

the end was when i finally saw a physiotherapist. at the time, it felt like a miracle; he spoke to me for what seemed like only ten, fifteen minutes, and gave me a diagnosis and a physiotherapy plan. that was in 2021. the physiotherapy turned out to be hell; i only lasted a few months, even doing the most basic of exercises, and my parents grew sour at the idea of driving me to the other end of the city on a regular basis. so that all shattered into nothingness.

but that’s all just an aside: the real point is, the first time i used a cane was on a school trip to a large city, at the end of elementary school. it was going to involve a lot of walking; something i knew by that point would be difficult. and so my mother gave me a gift. an old, simple, dark red, wooden cane. the same one she’d used in her teen years before her surgery, and kept just in case. i genuinely don’t know if it’s good or not; i don’t know if i could afford a better one. i’m still using it. i think buying a new one would make the reality too real—that i will not get a magic fix, like my mother did.

on that trip, my very first time using a cane, with my grade eight class, was the also the first time that anybody made fun of it. while walking through the city in small groups, another boy in my class called me a grandma from across the street. i ran after him and hit him (not hard) with it, and he kept his mouth shut for the rest of the trip.

when i started grade nine, my high school was a twenty-to-thirty minute walk from my house. (another aside, shorter this time: after almost every other form of exercise was slowly nixed out of my life, walking became my everything. it still kills, but it’s better than anything else.) and it was too much. by the time i reached school every day, i was unable to stand for the national anthem. that was when the cane became a regular part of my life; i took it with me every day for support while i walked, and even when i didn’t need it, it made my disability somewhat more visible. the respectful people saw it and realized that there was something wrong with me. the assholes saw it and were assholes.

here’s another thing about me: i used to have a cousin. i have a lot of cousins, actually, but the one in question was almost my twin. we were born in the same week, and shared a birthday every year growing up, and looked nearly identical—when our hair was the same length, that is. he and i were complete opposites in most other respects; i was a quiet, well-behaved (read: neurodivergent) kid, and he was a loud, trouble-making (read: neurodivergent) kid. but we got along. and we went to the same high school, and it always stunned people to find out that we were cousins.

in grade nine one of my cousin’s friends made fun of my cane, in front of him and me. my cousin shoved his own friend against a locker and threatened him because of it. i wasn’t made fun of for my cane at that school for the rest of my time there (unless you count the things that people say when they don’t mean to be mean, but have also never witnessed someone my age with a cane before. i don’t, but they still hurt.)

my cousin’s gone now. he overdosed on xanax and killed himself in october. it’s my fondest memory of him, when he turned on his own friend to defend me. i didn’t see him for two years before he passed because of covid quarantines and precautions. i genuinely don’t remember the last time i did see him.

and here’s one last thing: people think that growing up disabled with a parent that had suffered similarly would make things easier. but it was the opposite. because my mother wasn’t chronically disabled. she had horrible knee problems that were fixed after years of physiotherapy and a major operation. she was also labeled as gifted and diagnosed with something i forget the name of, which means that it takes more effort for her to perform tasks than it does for other people. and all that has done is this:

a more recent story. i’m currently spending a month living in québec on a university campus. initially, i was slotted to be staying in an off-campus apartment; they moved me to a residence building before i arrived because they knew of my disability. my room is on the fourth floor. there is no elevator. i wonder every day if my would-have-been apartment would have had less stairs.

my mother drove me there. when we arrived, she carried my suitcase up the stairs for me, because i was incapable of doing so myself. and when i complained, mostly lightheartedly—“oh, doing these stairs is going to suck all month”—she turned on me and told me that when she had been just a little bit older than me, she’d done a program in québec and lived on the third floor with no elevator, and she’d just had major knee surgery. and she’d been fine.

it was nothing for her. i still remember her exact words, four weeks later. i don’t know if she’ll ever truly take me seriously, because to her, she was disabled too, and she got through it. i’ve yet to find a way to convince her that it’s different. that not everything has a magic cure if you just work through it.

i’m eighteen now. she was nineteen when she had knee surgery. maybe when i turn nineteen, i’ll finally get a new cane. it’ll be symbolic, of something. i don’t know what. hopefully i’ll figure it out.

#jupiter.txt #monty.txt #is this poetry? maybe #disability #disabled #cane user #ableism #suicide mention #okay to reblog

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nsk96 · 1 year ago

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Personal rant and maybe some trauma dumping. Saving for later when I see a therapist (I may have to see one in secret because my mom thinks I should wait until I get a job before seeing one because she thinks they’ll have access to my psych info and that will prevent me from getting a job😬)

I went to an appointment with a neurologist yesterday and he was confirming my symptoms and health conditions and all that. Literally going down a list and I answered truthfully to all of them. Then he asked, “any weight gain” (in the past few months) and I said no.

My mom jumped in and said “really?” In a sarcastic condescending tone (right in front of the doctor. I think even he was shocked). I was taken aback but I just repeated my “no” to her nonchalantly. I honestly hate her sometimes. It’s like she can’t go a single day without saying something negative about my body. Even when I brought her constant negativity up to her last year and she promised she would not make any more comments about my body, but she’s been back to it again the past couple of months. And she likes to say “I know you’re sensitive about your body so I try not to say anything.”

1) I haven’t gained weight. I may have been eating junk food (that she bought) for lunch lately but I’ve lost 3 pounds since May and continue to lose weight because I’ve been more careful how and when I eat. Like eating junk for for lunch but eating a balanced breakfast and nothing but veggies/fruit for dinner. She even said in the car ride to the appointment that she gained weight. So projection much?

2) I’m not sensitive about my body. It’s just that because of her, I hated my body for 22 years, and now at the age of 27, I finally am starting to love my body and feel comfortable in my own skin. I don’t want her to ruin the momentum.

Also just a side note: it’s no surprise that my dad didn’t even care about my reason for seeing a neurologist. When my mom told him that my ophthalmologist referred me to the neurologist, the only thing that came out his mouth was “I hope it doesn’t cost us too much.” Not once did he ask why I was being sent to the neurologist. Never asked what’s wrong.

And then today some more of the things I bought online arrived. I got a mini 8-key kalimba and a Sailor Moon music wind box. My mom of course tried to make it seem like they’re unnecessary and she was like “you’re not even going to use those things, you don’t have the time.” Why she got to shit on my parade? I’m finding things I like and enjoy and using these things pull myself out of the depression I’ve been in (since last December). And musical instruments is somewhat of sore spot for me. Not having the time to learn how to play instruments is not my fault, and it sucks that I always been drawn to it. Since I was 4 I was always dabbling with whatever instrument I could find and didn’t care what my playing sounded like. I just wanted to make music. But my brother was the one who got music lessons (which he hated and never appreciated) and we couldn’t afford any lessons for me. And that sits on my subconscious and resurfaces whenever I see an instrument. I think that’s one of the few things I was envious of my brother for. That along with the social privileges he had for being a son instead of a daughter.

I also find it funny that she acts like she knows what I would use. Lady doesn’t even know I bought toys…the other kind of toys, if you know, you know 👁👄👁

Honestly, it’s shit like all of this (as well as the things I mentioned on other rant posts) that makes me want to get my own place and cut contact once I get a stable pharmacy job. I don’t need my mom instilling her insecurities and outdated views into my future children and I don’t need my dad even being around them.

I wanted to move out this semester without my dad knowing. I would spend my days there and then sleep at home. Use the place to study and store healthy food and be able to personalize the space to finally feel at home somewhere. My school would have given me the loan for rent. My mom talked me out of it saying “let’s save the money. And if your father finds out about you moving out, he’ll cut you off and you’ll no longer be covered under his health insurance. We still depend on him for a lot.” Okay I understand that but I sure hope you don’t use that as an excuse to stay with him after talking big about how you’ll divorce him when I finish school. Honestly I want to get out now, I hate living this way. I hate how hard it is to eat healthy and to have to guard my food. I can never do food prep the night before because of him and my health is suffering because of it. My hair has been falling out even more and I have visible bald spots now. There’s only so much that vitamin supplements can do…

#personal #pharmacy school adventures #rant

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lovemesomesurveys · 2 years ago

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Do you want the last dream you had to come true? I don’t recall my last dream, but I’m gonna say no cause my dreams tend to be really weird and random.

When did you last talk to the person you'd most wanna talk to right now? There isn’t anyone I really want to talk to right now.

What kind of pill did you last take? My sleeping pill.

Do you like wearing glasses? I actually do. I feel super weird without them. I think I kinda hide behind my glasses so there’s that, but yeah I have no desire to get contacts or like laser surgery.

Does your mom know the last person you hung out with? Yes, she knows herself.

What were you doing 4 hours ago? I was watching Yellowjackets with my mom and bro. I know, I know I’m super late to that show but naturally and no to surprise to no one I’m obsessed already and I’m only on the 4th episode. I was in episode 1.

What would you most like to eat right now? I’m looking forward to the Taco Bell I’ll be eating pretty soon.

How long were you last in the car for? Uhh like 5 minutes, if even that.

What is something good that happened last weekend? My aunt came to visit me for a few days and we had fun as always.

Do you like holding hands or do you think it's stupid? I think it’s cute. It’s also not so black and white, like there’s other options you could throw in there.

The last song you heard, what does it make you think of? I forget what song I last listened to.

How'd you get your last injury? Health related issues.

What do you like about your birthday? I don’t get as into it like I used to, like I used to get so excited when I was younger. My birthday is just whatever. It’s nice if I’m able to go somewhere, like a little vacay getaway, though.

Do you like being home alone at night? No.

What first comes to mind when thinking of 10th grade? That was the year I started my emo phase.

What's the scariest thing that's happened to you? Uhhh.

Has an ambulance ever came to your house? Yes.

The person you're thinking about- what are you thinking about them? I’m not really thinking about anybody.

When did you last skip class? *shrug* I’ve been outta school since 2015.

Do you like the shape of your fingernails? Ha, what nails?

Did you look at your fingernails for the question above? No. I already knew I barely had any nails to check.

Whose pool did you last swim in? It was my friend’s boyfriend’s (at the time) community pool. That was a decade ago.

What's something you like about your 3rd hour? --

Is formspring a good idea? I had one back in the day and it was interesting, but no one ever sent me questions, ha. I just answered the ones you could choose from that were asked by like a bot or something. There was some celebrity tea being spilled on some formsprings, which at the time I ate right up.

What's your biggest problem at the moment? Meh.

What's the cutest thing someone's ever done for you? Hmm. I’m not sure what I’d say was “the” cutest.

When did you last see a police car? *shrug*

Why aren't you doing something more productive than this? I have nothing else I need to be doing, let me be.

How many people know about the last person you kissed? A few.

How many different cars have you driven? I’ve never driven a car.

What did you do on Thursday? I had a doctor appointment in the morning and then just chilled and napped.

What color was the last thing you drank? Light brown coffee with some cream color.

What do you do on Fridays? Same shit I do everyday.

Have you ever had to take desperate measures in a desperate situation? Mhm.

What door did you last open besides any on your house or car? I haven’t opened any doors in awhile. Kinda hard when you’re bedridden and even if I’m up in my chair I’d still need help. I don’t need to open any doors in my house, so that’a helpful. I don’t go anywhere, except for a doctor appointment, and in those cases I’m being pushed around in a gurney so I can’t open any doors.

What is the meaning of life? To figure out what that meaning is for you.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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purplebirdsees · 2 years ago

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Warm-up 1: Whatever - Part 1

Hello! I am Citron! Yes, again!

Remember my notes? If yes, good job! If no, why?

Thanks!

(citronslation: basically, this is kind of an excerpt of this piece of fiction, written by my boy tsuzuru. you don’t need to read it to understand this one but pls do bc quality of life u get me yeah. ok. thanks.)

(footnotes were not made by tsuzuru, unless stated otherwise) (theyre mostly itaru)

Children, without exaggeration, are horrible beings.1

It’s always those kids you just stumble on, maybe in a convenience store, or in an absurdly long line from the cash register, or even during church, especially during Sunday Church (my parents aren’t Catholic, but my grandparents father’s side is). As soon as I step foot on the Church’s white and gold tiled floor, my immediate response is to look around on every single pew for someone who may look like my age. I’d feel relief if they were sitting out of sight, but if they weren’t.… Well, usually, I’d try to avoid eye contact as much as I can, but whenever I accidentally glance at them, they’d always have that smug look, with the straightest posture, and the loudest, most obnoxious singing. Sometimes, when they’re near enough for me to hear, I’d catch a few words they’d whisper loudly to their parent. Usually, it would be along the lines of, ‘We’re going to (insert fast food chain name here) after this, right?’ like it added to this nonexistent leader board on who is the best kid in Church.2

I could go on and on about my horrible Church experiences, but somehow, none of those were the ones that struck a nerve more than that one time in a bookstore.

It was a week before classes started, and as much as my parents wanted to scrounge as much of last year’s school materials, the pens and notebooks either had only a sliver left of its use or was completely depleted. Mom had to double check it though, as she gathered all we had in a cardboard box. After her third inspection, she said she could debone the frayed used notebooks to separate as much of the blank papers to make new notebooks. Which was the reason why she decided that dad was the one who should do the shopping instead, which in the end he did do, but we had to try to convince her that the old and used were completely unusable and should be left to retire. After a few prying and pleading, we were able to sell the whole box to the waste courier.

I was appointed to go with dad to the bookstore; the others had to help mom with the kitchen… and to make sure she won’t chase the waste courier and end up blending up all the notebooks into a pulp to make new paper.

She did this before, but her faux notebooks were extremely unusable because the paper was too thick, and for some reason, felt a little wet and made the ink bleed into the pages. During the first week of classes, my school bag smelled of wet dog, and every time I had to take down notes, I wish I didn’t. The moldy smell would make my seatmates turn their heads away from my direction. Even the resident class clown once remarked how ugly the cover of my notebook was, saying it looked like his grandmother’s post-chicken pox skin, puss and all. One afternoon, just as I was about to arrive home after school, I remember passing by Tadoru and Meguru sitting by the riverside, their backs hiding their guilt ridden yet determined faces. At that point I knew, and the absence of the wet, moldy dog fur smell was enough evidence.

Like an unspoken vow, we made sure we never, under any circumstance, let mom DIY anything. 3

-----

1 Understatement. They’re dickheads, actual hellspawn. I have never met a kid who was genuinely kind, they ALWAYS have an agenda at the back of their pea-sized brains. I’m qualified to say this because I’ve been a tutor example? Sure, but im tired so no (actuallly I don’t have to prove myself you literally juST READ A PRIME EXAMPLE WHY)

2 When they say yes, ding-ding-ding! Wow! His parents ACTUALLY love him enough to buy him food! As if that isn’t the lowest bar, bare minimum a parent should do f[word redacted due to profanity] mot[word redacted due to profanity] why don’t I f[words redacted due to vulgar language] mom then once im your step dad ill kick[words redacted due to vulgar language] space until yo[words redacted due to vulgar language]eath

3 [tsz] wording feels awkward/weird

part 2

#A3!#fanfic #ao3 stuff #part 1 of 3 #Dandelion Fluff #a3! tsuzuru #a3! citron #a3 itaru #dont worry im back i just got a little burnt out #is this an excerpt? actually idk #ig its not? its like a draft but ig its slightly relevant to the fic in terms of pacing but honestly not that much #anyways hi how are u #breastpocket cookies #tsuzuru minagi

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years ago

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Father of Mine – 1/2

Character: Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: With the tragic passing of her mother, Y/N learns to the truth of who her father is.

Word Count: 4,000+

Warnings: Family death, cancer, absent father, cremation

A/N: The reader is described as tall in this fic. Bruce Wayne is 6′2 and I’m tall, so I’m indulging myself with no apologies. Read it or don’t.

“Do you want to say anything before we…” the operator asked her.

“No,” Y/N answered quickly.

“Oh, my assistant forgot to give you this,” the operator gave her a shy smile as he handed her a small cardboard box.

She opened it to find all of her mother’s jewelry that had been on her body at the funeral.

“Thank you,” Y/N told him.

“Ready?” The operator asked.

He had been so kind throughout the whole process. It was obvious he was used to people breaking down and being extremely emotional.

But Y/N had been stoic, almost concerningly so.

Though he wasn’t one to judge. Everyone grieved differently.

With the pull of a handle, Y/N watched her mother’s body going into the chamber.

“It will be a few hours,” the operator told her.

He meant it will it will take a few hours for her mother’s body to burn to ash. Then they would hand her a tacky vase with her remains.

Y/N just nodded. “I’ll go for a walk.”

As soon as she was outside, Y/N called her mother’s executor.

“Ms. Y/L/N, I was just about to call you.”

“I’m at the crematory,” she told him. “I figured we should discuss the bills that still need to be paid for.”

“Yes, of course. As I mentioned to you before, your mother’s life insurance covers quite a lot of it…” his words died out.

“But it’s still not enough,” Y/N finished for him. “I’ll get the money.”

She wasn’t exactly rich, but she also wasn’t living paycheck to paycheck. But people never realized how much money it cost for loved ones to die. It was honestly ridiculous.

“You might want to consider taking out a loan,” he tried to suggest gently.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Another thing, Ms. Y/L/N. There was an envelope with a name on it. And your mother left instructions on delivering the envelope to them.”

She stopped her pacing.

“What name is on the envelope?” Y/N asked.

There was a pause.

“Bruce Wayne.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed.

Of course she knew who Bruce Wayne was – everyone in Gotham did, as well as most of the country. He was a billionaire playboy, only making headlines when he was a mess. But every once in awhile his philanthropy would sneak in there. Y/N always assumed those were only to help recover his image and not because he was a good person.

“You still there?” The executor asked.

“Yeah. I’m just a bit confused. But please pass it along to him, if that’s what my mom wanted.”

“I can’t. The instructions specifically say for you to deliver the envelop to him in person.”

“In person?” Y/N groaned in annoyance as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

Why did all of this have to be so god damn complicated?

“Yes. Her instructions are…oddly specific."

“Fine,” she huffed. “I’ll pick up everything from your office before the work day ends.”

——————

Y/N stared at the envelop that she’d tossed on her coffee table as she sipped a rather large glass of red wine.

She was wracking her brain trying to think of a time when her mom mentioned knowing Bruce Wayne. But Y/N would’ve remembered her mom saying his name – even in passing. It’s not a name that one can drop casually.

Y/N pulled up her phone and googled him. But she looked at his history. Yes, he was from Gotham, as was her mom, but so were 10 million other people.

But then Y/N’s scrolling paused when she realized they went to the same high school: Gotham Academy. Not only that, they graduated in the same year.

‘Were they friends?’ Y/N wondered.

But just classmates or friends still didn’t seem to warrant a handwritten letter to be delivered after one’s death.

Y/N didn’t open the envelope.

Her mother’s instructions specifically told her not to. And if she put in that much of an effort to get this done after her death, Y/N wasn’t going to ignore such a request.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t curious.

“Fuck,” Y/N sighed before throwing back the rest of her wine.

——————

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t grant you access to the building without your name being in the system by the company you’re visiting,” the building receptionist told her for the third time.

“I understand. But I called his office 30 fucking times and they refuse to put me through to him or get me an appointment,” Y/N practically growled.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I already called their office to say you were here and they didn’t recognize your name. I can’t let you through to the elevators.”

Y/N’s gaze flickered to the security guard who stood a few feet away. He was eyeing her now that there was clearly an argument going on.

Y/N wanted to roll her eyes. She had a good foot on him – even without her heels on. And he looked like he couldn’t run a 50 yard dash without passing out or vomiting. If he thought he was going to physically stop her, he had another thing coming.

“Listen, I am not some crazy fucking stalker. My mom knew Bruce Wayne and in her will she asked me to deliver this to him,” Y/N’s voice lowered and became disturbingly calm. “I don’t want to be here just as much as you don’t want to have this conversation.”

“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to calm down,” the security guard finally stepped forward.

“Oh, fuck off,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the rent-a-cop.

“Ma’am, I’ll have to ask you to leave,” he continued.

“Call me ma’am one more fucking time…” Y/N growled.

But the security guard was taking a step to her.

“Excuse me. What seems to be the problem here?” A voice suddenly interrupted.

Everyone turned to see a young man – younger than Y/N – glaring at the security guard just as he was about to grab Y/N.

“M-Mr. Drake, we were just escorting this young woman from the premises,” the guard stuttered out.

Everyone at the building knew every member of the Wayne family. But unlike his siblings, Tim Drake was at the office almost every day. As one should be when they’re the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company.

“For what reason?” Tim Drake asked.

“She insists on seeing Mr. Wayne. But she doesn’t have an appointment. For security reasons, I cannot let her through, obviously, unless the company she is visiting has put her into their system and the building’s system,” the receptionist explained nervously.

Y/N frowned as if she was bored of the whole thing.

Tim stepped forward. “May I ask what your business with Bruce Wayne is?”

Now that he was closer, Y/N noticed how exhausted he looked. He was handsome still, of course. But she wondered when he last got a good night’s sleep. He was shorter than her, probably standing at 5’5. And she still believed he was younger than her, which was wild seeing as he was already the CEO and couldn’t be older than 24.

Y/N sighed before she grabbed the envelope from her black leather satchel, and showed that Bruce Wayne’s name was handwritten on it.

“My mother wished me to personally deliver this to him.”

Tim tilted his head slightly. “Why isn’t she doing it?”

“Because she’s dead,” she shot back without emotion.

But Tim’s face became sympathetic. “I’m sorry. I should’ve assumed…”

“It’s fine,” Y/N quickly cut him off before he could continue.

She was so tired of being on the receiving end of people’s sympathy. It didn’t help. And the words stopped holding any meaning to her.

“But I’m sorry. Bruce isn’t in today. And he probably won’t be coming to the office for the rest of the week.”

“Oh,” was all she responded with.

Of course Bruce Wayne didn’t come to work. Why would he?

This was a stupid idea. And now she had made a scene because of it.

“But if you give me your information, I will personally let him know that you are trying to reach him.”

“Really?” Y/N asked in shock.

Tim smiled at her surprise. “Of course.”

“Here’s my card,” she quickly grabbed one from her wallet and then a pen. “All my info is on that.” She wrote something on the back. “And that’s my mom’s name.”

He took it from her and nodded. “What was your mother’s relationship with Bruce?”

Y/N shrugged. “Honestly, I have no idea. I’ve been trying to figure it out. Apparently they graduated in the same high school class. But that’s all I was able to find.”

He nodded.

“Thank you…Mr. Drake. For your help. Really,” she urged.

“Please, it’s just Tim.” Then he glared at the receptionist and security guard. “For you it is, at least.”

“Thank you again,” Y/N felt like saying it 30 more times still wouldn’t be enough.

“You don’t have to thank me. Someone will be in touch. Have a good day, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Y/N,” she corrected with a smile before she nodded and started backing away.

He smiled at her correction and gave a final nod.

——————

Y/N didn’t expect to hear from anyone for at least a week.

If the Wayne family was one thing, it was busy.

They probably had parties to go to, meetings to attend, private jets taking them around the world whenever they wished.

Why would they ever prioritize a meeting with her, a stranger?

So imagine her surprise when she received a call from an unrecognized number the same day she gave Tim Drake her card.

“Hello?” She answered.

Usually she would let any unknown number go to voicemail.

“Hello,” a British voice answered. “Am I speaking with Ms. Y/F/N Y/L/N?”

“This is she,” Y/N sat up straighter on her couch.

“This is Alfred Pennyworth. I work for Master Wayne and manage all his personal appointments. I was told by Master Tim that you wished to meet with him?”

“Uhhh. Yes. Yes, I do. Is that…is that possible?”

“Would you be able to stop by Wayne Manor on Friday afternoon?”

Y/N already knew she had nothing going on that would stop her from getting this done. But she still paused to pretend to think about it.

“Yes, Friday afternoon should be fine. Are you sure he doesn’t just want me to stop by Wayne Enterprises?”

It felt oddly intimate to stop by Wayne Manor. Wouldn’t they want to meet her in a more secure location like a corporate building with security that already hated her?

“He is quite certain. Should I send a car for you Ms. Y/L/N?”

A car?

Y/N felt even more out of her depth now.

“Oh, no. That won’t be necessary. I’ll be there.”

“I look forward to meeting you, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Thanks,” she answered before hanging up and realizing that probably wasn’t the proper response to such a polite goodbye.

——————

“I haven’t heard that name since high school,” Bruce had muttered as he stared at the business card for what felt like the thousandth time.

“Yes, and the end of your relationship did not end on the best of terms,” Alfred commented.

Y/M’s/N Y/L/N had been Bruce’s high school sweetheart.

An she had seen the last moments of Bruce’s normal life.

Upon graduation, Bruce decided to leave Gotham and that’s how his second life was founded. The two of them broke up before the summer after graduation had even ended.

Well, “Breakup” was a strong word.

Bruce stopped answering her calls.

She was his first love and he continued to love her.

But once Bruce realized where his life was going and who he wanted to be, he knew he couldn’t drag her into it. She deserved better.

And Bruce was a coward about relationships then. Maybe he still was.

“I am certain you did a thorough background check on her already,” Alfred commented with a smirk.

Bruce took in a breath before listing off all of her accomplishments. “Y/F/N Y/L/N. Graduated number one in her class at Gotham Academy. She was the star of the track team, breaking the regional record for fastest time in 100m, 200m, and 400m races. Also captain of her soccer team. Attended NYU’s photography program before dropping out after a year. Now she’s a professional photography. Her work’s been featured in Vogue, New York Times, National Geographic…amongst others.”

“Rather an impressive woman,” Alfred said.

Bruce nodded.

“I should get the tea and coffee ready for her arrival.” And with that, Alfred left Bruce in the drawing room.

30 minutes later, the doorbell rang.

Bruce glanced down at his watch: she was right on time.

He heard Alfred saying his pleasantries before he heard the clicking of her heels as she rounded the corner to enter the room he was waiting in.

For being a famous photographer, she could’ve been a runway model with her height and the way she walked into the room, completely owning it. She wore four-inch heels, only adding to her natural tallness. And her bright, red coat only added to her presence.

For a split second, Bruce was convinced that he was looking at an Amazon. Diana immediately flashed into his mind for a split second. Perhaps that was what Y/M’s/N needed help with: to get her daughter to her real people. But how would she have known Bruce Wayne had such connections? Unless she knew Batman’s true identity…

As soon as Y/N spotted him in the room, he rose from his seat.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Bruce greeted.

He took a step forward and held out his hand.

“You guys really love the formalities.” She said it with a dark evenness, but it was clearly a joke. “Y/N is fine, Mr. Wayne,” she added as she shook his hand.

“In that case, it’s Bruce,” he countered with a soft smirk.

There was something so familiar about her. But Bruce knew they’d never met.

“Thank you for seeing me. I don’t want to waste anymore of your time,” Y/N quickly got to it. She opened her purse to grab the envelope.

“My mom wanted you to have this. And she wanted to make sure I was the one to give it to you,” Y/N explained as she offered it to him.

Bruce took it carefully, but didn’t open it. “Yes, I heard about her passing. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” she said hurriedly, making it obvious to Bruce that she did not want nor need his condolences.

Bruce nodded slowly.

There was a pause.

“Do you know what it says?” He asked her lightly.

She shook her head. “I wasn’t supposed to read it.”

“I see.”

“I should really be going. I have a flight to catch later tonight.” Most people that visited Wayne Manor wished to stay there forever. Or their curiosity got the best of them and their eyes took in every little detail.

But Y/N looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. And she wanted to get out as soon as she possibly could.

“Thank you again for seeing me,” she rushed out.

Without waiting for his answer, Y/N turned and started walking out of the room.

But she only got a few steps before she stopped.

Bruce watched her shoulders tense and her body move as she was clearly taking in deep breath.

Slowly, Y/N turned around to face him.

“Were you friends?”

Bruce gave her a watery smile. “She was my girlfriend in high school.”

Y/N seemed annoyed by that answer. “She never mentioned you. Not once.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed at that and his eyes zoned out as if he was revising the past in his mind. “I’m not entirely surprised. Things didn’t really end well between us.”

She nodded slowly. “Goodbye, Mr. Wayne.”

And Y/N turned and strutted out of the room without looking back.

As soon as Bruce heard her cab drive away, he ripped open the envelope and pulled out a letter.

He barely noticed that Dick had walked into the room. “May I ask…Who was the extremely attractive and tall woman that just walked out?”

But Bruce didn’t hear him as his eyes raced across the letter. His heart sped as he continued reading.

“Bruce?” Dick asked after being ignored. “Is she your next conquest or what?”

It wasn’t until Bruce was done reading the letter for the third time that he finally looked up and acknowledged Dick.

Alfred had also walked into the room, unbeknownst to Bruce.

“You OK?” Dick asked, now concerned with how silent Bruce had become.

“Master Wayne?” Alfred also urged.

“That was…my daughter,” Bruce finally muttered.

Dick blinked before his eyes grew wide in shock.

Alfred seemed less surprised, almost as if he had already put that together.

“Excuse me,” Bruce told them and exited the room.

———

Dick and Alfred must’ve warned the rest of the family not to bother Bruce in the cave. Usually he would’ve been disturbed by now.

Bruce had been at the computer for hours.

Alfred was the first person to come down, carrying a tray with dinner and tea.

The butler wasn’t surprised to find Y/N’s face all over the screens.

If Bruce had left any available information hidden before inviting Y/N to the manor, it was all out there now. Bruce knew everything about Y/F/N Y/L/N that was public knowledge – probably even some things that were not.

“You know, you did not seem all that surprised,” Bruce said to Alfred as he put the tray of food down next to him.

“Seemed rather obvious, didn’t it?”

Bruce quickly turned to look at him. “It did?”

Alfred smirked. “Her eyes,” was all he said.

“The color?”

Alfred shook his head. “As soon as she walked into the manor, they were reading me.” He tilted his head in Bruce’s direction. “Observation. Perception. Attention to detail...That is all you, Master Wayne.”

“The way she held herself,” Alfred continued, "Shoulders held back, head high, walking with purpose. No hesitation.”

“Also me?” Bruce asked.

Alfred simply nodded.

“I don’t think she liked me very much,” Bruce sighed.

He didn’t know how he felt about that yet.

“A lot of people think you don’t like them when you first meet them,” Alfred countered. “Because I don’t trust them yet.”

Alfred raised his brows and silently ask him, ‘Don’t you see my point?’

Bruce rubbed his face and reached for the tea on the tray, ignoring all the food.

“I don’t know why you’re so entertained by this, Alfred.”

“Yes, I was entertained. I just saw a younger, female version of you, Master Wayne.”

“I abandoned her,” Bruce shot.

“You didn’t know she existed,” Alfred corrected.

“And why do you think that is?”

Alfred’s face dropped a little bit when he noticed the envelope discarded on the far end of Bruce’s desktop.

He looked down at the ground as he asked, “Might I ask what the letter said?”

Bruce glared at the letter as if touching it would burn him.

But after a moment, he grabbed it and quickly handed it to Alfred.

Bruce,

If this letter has finally reached you, it is because I have passed.

I must admit that I wrote this letter mostly in the event that I leave my daughter before she is an adult. But once Y/N turned 18, I decided to still pass this along to you.

There is no easy way to tell you this, so I will get to the point.

The young woman who delivered this letter to you is your daughter, Bruce.

Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N.

When I found out I was pregnant with her, I was only 18. We had just graduated high school. You had started traveling. You called less and less. And you grew more distant – physically and emotionally. Eventually, you stopped answering my calls altogether. I left you a voicemail, only saying that I so desperately needed to talk to you, that I needed you.

But you never called me back.

With no words at all, you made it very clear that you no longer wanted anything to do with me.

But there I was, a teenager who was pregnant with our child.

I would be lying if I said I never considered terminating my pregnancy. I was scared and you broke my heart. All I wanted to do was erase you from my life.

But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Once I decided what my future was going to be, I also decided that I did not want you to have any part in it.

I knew even if you pretended to play the doting father and the committed partner, you would grow tired of us eventually. You would resent me and our child for bringing you down. And you would brush us aside for yourself.

I realized I would rather Y/N have no father at all than one who would only disappoint her over and over again.

To this day, I truly believe I did the right thing for all three of us.

There are not enough words to explain the complicated woman that Y/N grew up to be. But I will try my best. I think I owe you that at least.

Or maybe you have no interest.

I don’t know how she became so much like you, even when I never so much as showed her a picture of you or uttered your name.

She enjoys being alone – almost to her own detriment. I constantly catch her repressing her feelings, always staying strong for everyone else. It reminds me of you. She’s assertive and confident, never letting anything stand in the way of what she wants. Sometimes I don’t think she’s scared of anything. It worries me, just like it worried me when I thought the same of you.

I truly don’t know what you will do with this information.

But…if you have any desire to form some sort of relationship with her, then you should know this: she will not make it easy for you. She will push you away. And she might even hate you. I raised her to never need a man in her life, and she’ll make sure you know that.

I don’t expect anything from you. I never did.

But I would just like to know there might be someone who will be there for her should she need them.

Goodbye, Bruce.

Alfred slowly handed the letter back to Bruce when he was finished.

“I pushed her away because I knew what I was about to become,” Bruce explained darkly. “And I didn’t want her anywhere near it. She would’ve been in danger.”

“Y/N, as well,” Alfred added.

“But had I known…if I just listened to her–”

“Master Wayne, I thought we had agreed to never linger on the ‘what ifs.’”

That sure silenced Bruce.

“Now, what do you plan on doing, Master Wayne?”

———

Y/N frowned when her phone started vibrating and she recognized the name of her mom’s executor on her phone screen.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Y/L/N, how are you?”

“Fine. How are you?” She was quick, wanting to get this over with. Surely, he had bad news. Another medical bill came in or some other expense that slipped by them.

“Good, good. Just curious…have you placed any payments to our various claims?”

“Uhhh…no. But I’m working on it.”

Y/N hadn’t expected to get a call nagging about paying bills.

“No, no, no. You misunderstand. They’ve all been paid,” the executor explained.

Y/N sat up straighter in her chair. “What? That’s not possible.”

“An anonymous donor. They somehow got record of all your outstanding payments and covered all of them.”

Y/N was stunned to silence.

“Ms. Y/L/N…this is a good thing.”

She blinked and shook her head. “Right. Yes, of course. I just…thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank this guardian angel of yours.”

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

Part 2

Let me know what you think!!!

#bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #bruce wayne reader insert #batfam #batman #batman x daughter!reader #dad!bruce wayne #dad!batman #batman family #batman universe #batman angst #bruce wayne angst #alfred pennyworth #father!bruce wayne #father!batman

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losingitinjersey · 3 years ago

Photo

Ever spend the last 12 days intending to blog every day and then never finding the time to do so? Yup, that’s where I’ve been at. Straight up in survival mode over here.

My MIL left on Monday and while my days since have been spent constantly putting out fires managing two crying children (often at the same time), I’m oh so flipping happy to be on my own again :) I understand that it’s important for family to come and visit and get to know their grandchildren. While I’m happy we all had that time together I’m glad to now have the time to figure out life as a family of four without an extra person in the house.

Kevin started a new rotation that has him gone six days a week from 4 a.m. to 8:30 p.m. (or later) so all he has time to do is come home and sleep. Poor guy :( I went from having both him and either my mom or MIL home all the time to now doing everything alone. It’s a lot but I’m surviving!

Here’s a rundown of some of the highlights from the last 12 days.

Aug passed her hearing test! Woooo!

Thanks to the MIL here, Kevin and I were able to go (BY OURSELVES) out to dinner, out to brunch, on several walks, and two grocery shopping dates! Such a dreeaaammm!

My MIL strongly dislikes/is scared of my cat, Saki. As such, on one of the days I was gone at appointments with Aug for six hours she didn’t let him downstairs. Due to this he pooped in my bedroom on the carpet :( To my MIL’s credit, she thought he had a litterbox upstairs, but no. That’s why I’m always letting him down and opening up the bathroom with the litterbox in it for him all the time. Pay attention, woman.

While we’re on the MIL rant, I’ll keep going with two more stories.

I’ve put Erp to sleep every night of her life except for when I was at the hospital delivering Aug. We have a bedtime routine that I look forward to every day and one that I find to be an intimate experience that only we share. One night that I’m putting her down, I come out to find the kitchen and dining room still a mess with Kevin and his mom sitting on the couch (she has Aug in her arms so she gets a pass). But I’m frustrated and start to clean. At one point I look up to ask if MIL can turn on the monitor (that I know was turned off before I went in to start bedtime) and I see she’s looking at it watching Erp. I ask her if that means she watched us while we were in there. She replied that she had. I reply, “Great.” Drop what I’m washing in the sink and run upstairs slamming the door shut behind me. I go to pump and cool off. I come downstairs 40 minutes later to tell her I overreacted but also that I felt she had invaded our privacy. She tells me, through tears, that it reminded her of her time with Kevin when he was a baby. I get it, but still. Kevin said had he known she was watching he would have told her to stop since I made it VERY clear to him early on in Erp’s life that I don’t like being watched on the monitor when I’m in there with her. I guess I should have told her about my preference in advance but I never thought I’d need to spell it out like that.

For the last week she was here, she had Chicago Med on the TV constantly, at relatively loud volume. Please note that we never ever ever have the TV on at our house unless we’re actively watching something, and if that happens it’s 99% of the time just me watching and I do it for an hour at night when everyone is asleep. If we need background noise, music is playing. She would just sit on the couch and watch her show talking about gunshots, premature birth, and whatever kind of medical drama while my kids are running around. I’m sorry, but I thought you were here to connect with your grandkids? So while she sat on the couch, I would engage and play with Erp for hours. Cool cool cool.

Please note that despite all this she’s a lovely woman and a great grandmother and mother and MIL. I came into her visit already dreading more company, and I’m sure I’m still surging with hormones from the pregnancy (right? or am I just this way always now?). All this to say that I was not begging her to stay and getting used to taking care of both kids on my own wasn’t that hard since I’d basically been doing it during her entire visit.

Okay, let’s take a breather and talk about other things.

Do you remember the 21st night of September? I DO because my 6 week old slept 12 straight hours! GLORIOUS.

After finishing listening to Billy Summers (loved it!) I decided to undertake Stephen King’s hefty novel, The Stand. I’d been scared to attempt it ever since I read 100 pages of it in 9th grade before deciding to pick it up again later. I guess 23 years later did the trick because I’m thoroughly enjoying it! I’ve learned that audiobooks are the only way I can get through any material lately. It makes me want to go out on walks and take drives so I can listen to MoAr! I’m already 10 hours into the 48 hour novel. Although, I gotta say, it certainly feels strange to read about a deadly pandemic (written in 1978) during this current pandemic.

After two months since I initially contacted the nearby school/daycare, I finally followed up to get Erp on a waitlist. There are six kids ahead of her. We took a tour on Friday and I want her to get in so so badly, hopefully before we move in June! It would be such a great place for her to socialize and learn!

If any of the above isn’t telling, my hormones are all over the place. I know this because my face has decided to rage in all the redness and acne. So fun!

Thanks to getting my house back, I’ve been able to establish a routine for us which includes going on stroller walks every day with the girls! We’ve already made it over 37 miles this month! Loving the outside time and knowing I’m working hard at my weight loss efforts.

Despite being on maternity leave, this past Friday I was invited to participate in an EA (virtual) offsite with my team at work! It was great to be able to see everyone again! At the end we participated in a cooking class where they mailed me a box of all the ingredients to cook a NY Strip Steak and Corn Succotash! Deeeelicious!

Given Erp’s increasing interest and ability at walking, I attempted a walk with her the other day, sans stroller! I wore Aug in a wrap on my chest and held Erp’s hand as we walked around the neighborhood. We walked a good 1/4 of a mile! Everything was fine until we made it back to our walkway and she refused to climb up the step to head back inside. Like, laid flat on the ground refusal. Since Aug was on me I couldn’t really just grab Erp and muscle her back inside. She wouldn’t listen to any request of mine to go inside so we had a power struggle of what felt like 15 minutes but I’m sure was closer to 5. She would try to crawl around my feet (into the bushes even to get around me), and any time I tried to lift her up she’d pull herself to the ground crying. Eventually I tucked Aug’s flopping head into the fabric of the wrap so I could lean down and grab my tantruming child and carry her inside. I want to be able to keep up with these excursions but not sure how to do so if she continues to rebel like this. Like, if she did this farther from home we’d be up a creek. Hopefully she’ll improve in time?

OKAY! Hopefully we can now get back to our regularly scheduled blogging so a massive update like this won’t be necessary again :) Thanks for taking time out of your day to catch up with me!

#please don't reblog #momblr #erp is 21 months old #aug is 6 weeks old #fitblr

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sergeantsporks · 3 years ago

Text

Adoption Papers

Rating: Gen, General Audiences

Part 2 of Camila is Hunter’s Mom Now

Camila officially adopts Hunter and Vee

Might be a little hard to explain where they came from, though.

Direct Sequel to “Another Shot at Life”

Ao3

“What’s a social security?”

“What do you mean an ID?”

“Why do we have to do a bunch of paperwork to live here? Luz just lived in Eda’s house for months!”

Camila pinched the bridge of her nose. “Things work differently here than in the Boiling Isles. And if the two of you don’t want me to get arrested for kidnapping, we have to fill out paperwork, and I have to officially adopt you.”

Vee sniffed the papers. “But I’ve already been living here!”

“Yeah, pretending to be me,” Luz reminded her, “Gonna be a liiiiiitle hard to explain why there’s two of us.”

Hunter squinted at the documents. “I used to do paperwork for the coven. But I have no idea what any of this says.” It was all a lot of technical stuff—with a lot of words he didn’t know the meaning of.

Camila sighed. “I’ve filled out most of it, but… we’re going to need to explain where the two of you came from. And ‘wandered in from another dimension’ isn’t something I think we can tell people.”

Luz bounced up. “Ooo! I’ve got it!” She waved a hand. “Vee is my twin sister, separated at birth!”

“Luz, sweetie, the hospital records will say otherwise.”

“Okay, okay, how abooooout… we say that Vee was a home birth, maybe a year younger than me, but Dad took her away with him when he left, and we assumed he’d do all of the registry, but apparently he didn’t? What are they going to do, track him down and ask him? They haven’t managed that yet. We can say that Vee ran away and came home to us.”

“That might work. What about Hunter?”

Luz grinned at him. “We found him living feral in the woods, he was raised by a pack of wolves.”

Hunter stuck his tongue out at her.

“Yeaaah… I don’t think that one’s gonna fly.”

“How about we tell them the truth?” Vee asked, “We say he ran away from a bad situation, and we’ve been taking care of him.”

“What if they start investigating? They’ll ask him questions, definitely, and if they try to figure out who his family is-!”

Luz jumped up and down. “Oooooo, tell them your horrible family chased you, and tried to push you off of a cliff, but they slipped and fell off and died!”

Hunter felt sick. “Pass.”

“Let’s stick to something simple. You and your… uncle… traveled, didn’t have a home, and you slipped away one day. You were camping out in the old abandoned house to hide, Vee found you there and brought you home, and you’ve been living with us ever since.”

“What if they try to figure out who his family is?” Vee asked, “I mean, uncle sounds a lot like he might have just kidnapped him.”

Hunter shrugged. “I’ll tell them my whole family was already dead. Freak boating accident, bodies never found. They were recluses, no one noticed they were missing. I’ll say uhhhhhhhh, I don’t remember their names, because I was a kid, and my uncle never told me our last name.”

Luz squinted at him. “What is your last name?”

“No idea.”

Camila sighed. “This is getting complicated. What if they start trying to figure out where your family lived?”

“Mexico,” Luz said immediately, “But Hunter was born over the border.”

“Does he look Mexican to you?”

“Okay, fine, Canada, whatever!”

“Let’s just… keep it simple, okay, Luz? Hunter, what do you think? This is your story, you have to be able to tell it.”

His story. Okay, who did he want to be? “I think… I think Vee’s idea is good,” he said slowly, “Ran away—I’ll just say he was my uncle. And we were homeless, so there’s nowhere they could track him down to. Even if they DO start looking for my birth family, it’s not like they can actually pull anything up, because I’m not from here. Okay. So, I ran away, made my way to Gravesfield, camped out in the abandoned house for a bit, then Vee found me, uhhhhh…”

“A week ago,” Vee offered.

“Okay, yeah, a week ago.”

“And if they ask for details about your uncle?”

“I’ll just talk about Belos. It’s not like they can find him.”

Camila nodded. “Okay! The closest adoption agency is out of town, but I already scheduled an appointment for tomorrow. First hurdle, guys!”

“First?” Hunter echoed.

“Oh, yeah, we have to get the two of you enrolled in school—”

“School?!”

Luz laughed. “Ohhhhhhh, you’re gonna hate it, Mr. Prodigy.”

“I don’t need school!”

“Yeah? Do you know how to do algebra? How about chemistry? Physics?”

“No?” Hunter looked to Luz. “Those are fake, right?”

She shook her head. “Unfortunately, they’re all very real.”

“I don’t need those.”

“We’ll discuss it later,” Camila interrupted, “For now, let’s just… focus on the adoption, okay?”

She looked… nervous. Which made Hunter nervous.

“What… what happens if they don’t believe me?”

Camila rubbed the back of her head. “I… I don’t know, mijo. If they dig deeper, I… but it will be fine.”

Still, Hunter didn’t sleep that night, his mind running through every possible way that this could go wrong. The next morning, when they loaded up in the car, he could see dark circles under Camila’s eyes, too. It did not make him feel better.

Hunter tossed his palisman gently out the window before they set off, the bird fluttering around his head. “You can’t come with us. Stay here and protect the house, okay?”

The bird chirped in affirmation, flapping back to sit on the roof.

Vee fell back asleep, leaning against him, and he resisted the urge to shake her awake and demand to know how she could possibly not be worried about this.

Hunter hadn’t ever gone outside of Gravesfield, and it was hitting him just now how… huge… the human realm was. He watched countryside flash by outside the car window, and even still, they didn’t seem to be getting anywhere.

And then buildings loomed in front of him, huge and imposing. Hunter pressed his face against the window. “Is this the capital of the human realm?”

“Ha. No. We’re not even in the capital of Connecticut.”

“Seriously?!”

Hunter watched the streets go by. This world was enormous, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it.

They had the key on this side, and since he was here, Belos was down one coven head—hypothetically, his uncle couldn’t complete his day of unity plans. But if he did, or if he managed to get back through, somehow…

Hunter was almost confident that this world was big enough for him to hide in.

They pulled up to an office building, and Camila took a deep breath. “Okay. Here goes nothing. Come on, kids.”

They all followed behind her into the building, and Camila approached the desk. “Hiiii. I’m Camila Noceda, I have an appointment about a couple of adoptions?”

The desk attendant glanced behind her at the three of them. “Down the hall, first door on the right. Right on time.”

Camila gave the attendant a nod. Hunter and Vee both crowded close to her as they filed into the office. “Hello?”

The woman at the desk looked like she hadn’t slept in a week, a thermos on a table covered in papers. “Hey. Paperwork.”

Camila tentatively handed her the packet, and she disappeared into a back room, coming back out after about ten minutes.

“So, neither of these kids is in the system?”

Camila shook her head. “Neither.”

The woman squinted at Vee. “Certainly looks like your other daughter. Why didn’t you report her father taking her?”

“We… we were separating. We thought he’d already filed everything.”

A grunt. “Alright. You. Other one. Hunter. C’mere.”

Hunter looked to Camila, and she gave him a little nod. He followed the woman into the other room, where she read over his form again. “Tell me about your uncle.”

“What? Why?”

“We need to see if we can find him.”

Hunter’s blood chilled. “I’m not going back!”

“Hey, it’s okay. We need to find him because we just don’t know enough about you—not even your last name. So we need your uncle for more information.”

“You won’t find him.”

“Uh-huh. Let us try, at least. Physical description?”

Hunter sighed. “Tall. Blond but greying, long hair, blue eyes. Old.” Face creeping with slime, occasionally turns into a puddle of goop, can’t miss him.

“His name?”

“Belos.”

“There’s one you don’t hear every day. Last name?”

“Dunno.”

“Right. Of course not. Where was the last place you saw him?”

“I don’t know.”

The woman sighed. “You’ve got to work with me, here.”

“Why?”

“Because this whole adoption will go a lot more smoothly. Where was the last place you saw him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. Fine. How long ago did you see him?”

Hunter struggled to remember. Kind of hard to tell when he didn’t know how much time he’d lost falling down into a cursed prison of darkness.

But according to Luz, that had only been for a couple of hours, even if it had felt like forever.

“Two weeks,” he said softly.

Two weeks since he’d been rescued. Two weeks since the worst time of his life.

“And you… ran away?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you explain why?”

Hunter shuddered. “Because I was miserable.”

“Specifically?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We can’t take you away from your uncle if he wasn’t a bad parent, Hunter. If we don’t have any indication he did anything wrong, then he can reclaim you any time he likes, and we are obligated to try to find him and return you to him. I understand that it may be painful to talk about it, but we cannot proceed without information about your past life.”

“Fine,” Hunter snapped, “He hurt me, and he locked me up, and he made me run errands for him and would punish me if I failed, happy?”

A slight pause. “What kind of errands?”

Hunting down palisman so he could drain them of their magic. “Uh… picking up medicine for him.”

“Medicine? What kind?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I just picked it up. I didn’t ask questions, it wasn’t encouraged.”

“But you ran away, ended up in Gravesfield, where Camila found you a week ago?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Wait outside, send Camila in.”

Hunter shuffled out. “She wants you.”

Camila nodded, disappearing into the other room, closing the door behind her. Vee nudged him. “Are you okay?”

“She was asking about Belos.”

“I’m sorry,” Luz said softly.

Hunter paced back and forth. “What do you think they’re talking about?” He crept closer to the door, pressing his ear to the door.

“Hunter,” Vee hissed, “Get away from there, it’s rude!”

“I want to know what they’re saying,” he hissed back, “Shhhh!”

He pressed his ear to the door again. The voices were faint, but he could make out what they were saying.

“Obviously, if Vee is your biological daughter, there isn’t any reason for us to keep her from you. I don’t think there will be any difficulty with the transition. But Hunter… Ms. Noceda, you may be rushing into more than you can handle.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t know him well. We don’t know where he came from, or what he’s done.”

“What he’s done?”

“He’s a liar, ma’am, you wrote that he was homeless, but he claimed his uncle would lock him up. Those two aren’t exactly compatible. He very obviously isn’t telling us everything—and I suspect he may have been part of a drug delivery system without knowledge. If I can believe him that he didn’t know what his uncle’s ‘medicine’ was.”

“Okay, well, let’s just say that I am really, really, really determined to adopt him anyway.”

“I’m really advising you not to. Let us get him into the system, foster him out, see how he does before you go all in on adopting him. He might not even be separated from his uncle—they might be planning to rob or hurt you and your family.”

“Hunter,” Camila thundered, “is not going to hurt us. And I don’t think it’s a good idea to foster him out.”

Hunter pulled back from the door, feeling sick. “Luz, what’s fostering?”

Her face paled. “It’s… it’s when they sort of send you out to different families to take care of you.”

“I don’t want to go to a different family!”

“You won’t,” Luz soothed, “Mom won’t let them take you away. And you can just run away if they do.”

Hunter started to pace, his chest getting tight. “I can’t start running away here, too! That’ll just make all of the adoption stuff harder, right?”

Vee grabbed his hand. “Hunter. Look at me.”

He did, the fingers of his free hand tapping restlessly on the side of his leg.

Vee gave his hand a squeeze. “It’s going to be okay,” she said firmly, “We aren’t going to leave you behind. Promise.”

He took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Good. Now sit down, and just think about other stuff. Like school.”

“I don’t want to go to school.”

“I’ll teach you algebra,” Vee promised, “They had a whole course on it at summer camp—it’s not so bad. And I’ll introduce you to my friends, too. You’ll be a couple grades older than us, but that’s okay.”

Luz bounced up. “Speaking of school, Hunter, is there any chance I can borrow Red? I know we’re worried about using the portal, but Eda and Amity and King and Gus and Willow will all be so worried about me!”

“Use your little…” Hunter clicked his fingers in the air. “Your little yellow thing.”

“My—you think that will work between dimensions?”

He shrugged. “Worth a shot. Might as well try before we open the portal and risk Belos getting in.” Hunter tapped his fingers against the chair. “If there’s natural titan’s blood veins in the Boiling Isles, then there’s a place here where it connects, right?”

“Right. That’s how Phillip—he wrote the diary I was using to figure out my portal—got into the demon realm in the first place.”

“So we might not need the key portal if we can find a place on this side where the worlds intersect.” Hunter’s stomach roiled. “Except that if we can do that, that means Belos has another way to get blood.”

“If I can just get in contact with Eda, she might be able to figure out my portal and then we don’t have to—”

The door to the other room burst open. Camila grinned, her hands behind her back. “Okay, Vee, Hunter, close your eyes, and hold out your hands!”

Vee did what she said, and Hunter followed suit, a little more hesitantly. Something paper settled in his hand. “Okay, open your eyes now.”

Hunter blinked at the paper in his hand.

Hunter Noceda.

Vee bounced up and down. “We did it!”

“They’re still finalizing everything—social security, birth certificates, all of that will take a bit more time. But you two are legally part of the family and under my care, now!”

Hunter Noceda.

The words felt… odd, in his head. But a good kind of odd.

Luz slung her arms around Vee and Hunter’s necks. “Whoo! Two new siblings! I didn’t use to have… well, any! I mean, I had you, but legally!” She shook Hunter slightly. “See? Nothing to worry about, I told you Mom could handle it!”

“Hunter Noceda.” He had a last name, now. A family name. “Vee Noceda.” It felt more natural to say her name—but then, she’d already seemed to be part of the family.

Luz cackled with glee. “Aha! You know what that means? Now the two of you have to wear ugly sweaters for family Christmas card pictures!”

“Ugly sweaters?” Vee questioned

“Christ-mas?” Hunter echoed.

“Ehehehe. Welcome to the Noceda family. You two have a lot of family tradition to catch up on.”

#wow this series is going to be so self-indulgent #toh #the owl house #toh hunter #camila noceda #lil rascal #luz noceda #vee noceda #toh fanfiction #my writing

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redrobin-detective · 4 years ago

Text

Just one single glimpse of relief

TW: OC death, death themes

“Hey,” Sydnee looked up at the sound of the voice. It was familiar, safe, and it stopped her tears for a moment. She can’t remember where she was or what she’d been doing. All she knew was that she was scared and upset and didn’t know what to do. It felt like she’d been crying forever when the voice appeared. “Hey there, it’s Phantom. Can I come closer?”

Sydnee gasped as the town hero, Phantom, approached her slowly. Syd was a bit of a nerd and she couldn’t get enough of those superhero movies. She always tuned in to Phantom’s fights on TV; he was as close as she’d get to a real life Superman or Captain Marvel. She’d never seen him up close before though. He was younger than he appeared on TV, not more than his early teens. Sydnee, almost 24, was hit by a wave of mortification over how they’d described the hunky, we-thought-he-was-older kid on Margarita Night. This day just got better and better, not that she remembered it.

“How are you doing?” Phantom asked quietly, floating near her but not getting too close. He was watching her warily but not unkindly. She saw how some folks treated him, he was probably worried she’d throw a shoe at him. “What’s your name?”

“Sydnee, with an extra e not a y. Uh Tanner, Sydnee Tanner,” she mumbled. Ugh why were words so hard. Her head felt fuzzy and very far away, she thinks she was going to start panicking again. What was she even so upset about? “I don’t know what’s going on. Where are we and what happened. I don’t- I don’t remember anything.”

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly, floating a little closer. The soft glow he emitted brightened up the dark place they were in. Was she in a collapsed tunnel? What had she been doing here? She’d never been claustrophobic but the debris and rubble of the place seemed to close in on her. “Hey, hey, just look at me.” She turned and met his kind eyes, soft and easy. “We’ll walk through it together. What is the last thing you remember?”

“I was late to work,” Syd said, the memory popping up before her. “I um work at the Donut Delights bakery in that strip mall next to the middle school. My cats had knocked over some of my houseplants in the night so I had to clean them up and was running behind. I open the store on Wednesdays - oh it’s Wednesday! - so I knew I’d be in trouble. But I made it, just barely. I was starting up the ovens when.” Syd furrowed her brow and took in the hero before her. The one who was almost never seen outside a fight. “There was a ghost attack, wasn’t there?”

“Welcome to Amity Park,” Phantom said grimly. “I’ve been here a couple times; the jalapeno bacon topped donuts are my favorite. My mom and sister buy them sometimes if they want to bribe me into doing something.”

“You weirdo, only crazy people eat that weird flavor,” Sydnee chuckled. “You have a family?”

“Of course, we all have a family out there somewhere. What about you?” He asked gently. There was something about the soft way he was talking to her, the way his eyes flickered around the dark like he was looking for something. He had news he didn’t want to tell her and she wasn’t ready to hear it. Not yet. Just a few more minutes of denial before she faced the revelation she couldn’t bear to touch yet.

“Yeah, mom and dad and two younger sibs. Folks divorced forever ago, I barely remember them actually being together. Mom is is living it up in Dubai working as a pastry chef in one of their fancy hotels. Dad’s an auto-mechanic down on Maple street, Duke’s Car Services. Pretty sure you got tossed through the window a year ago.”

“I’ve been tossed through many windows but I know the place you’re talking about. So a big family, any friends? Boyfriends? Girlfriends?”

“I have a boyfriend,” she continued on hastily, taking the distraction for what it was. “I like him, a lot and we’ve been dating since high school. Everyone says I should marry him and we’ve talked about it, casually, but I’ve never dated anyone else and wonder if I should see other people first. You know, test the waters before I settle down with my high school sweetheart like my folks did and look how they turned out.”

“Mhmm,” Phantom hummed nodding, encouraging her to continue.

“DeShawn is great though, he’s very supportive and sweet in his own kind of absentminded way. He’s got epilepsy real bad though, I have to drive him everywhere since he’s always at risk of a seizure. Annoying sometimes but its nice, you can learn a lot about a person from a conversation while you’re alone together.”

“Very true, I’m learning a lot now,” Phantom smiled. “What about your siblings?”

“I have a brother and a sister, Kennedy is finishing his sophomore year of college and Janelle will be a senior in high school. She was a surprise baby, one last attempt of my parents to reconcile before the big D. It didn’t help but I got a great sister out of it, she’s a real firecracker.”

“Janelle,” Phantom’s eyes lit up. “She’s the one always dying her hair. I see her in the hallways of Casper, she’s hard to miss. I think she draws too, she won an art award I think.”

“Yeah!” Sydnee said enthusiastically, she reached out and grabbed ahold of Phantom’s arm. It was cold but solid. It reminded her that she really couldn’t feel anything, nothing but him. “Yeah, I swear her hair is a new color every time I see her. It’s a dark purple now, it looks pretty good on her. She was a peachy orange for picture day last year. Mom called her up screaming when she saw the photos.”

“I thought it looked cool,” Phantom grinned, “not that I was there for picture day. Ghost attack, you know. My mom was upset with me too.” They laughed lightly for a minute before it gently petered off leaving them alone in the dark. Sydnee didn’t have any feeling in her toes, in any part of her. She felt light and disconnected and all over out of sorts. She was pretty sure she knew what had happened but she couldn’t face it yet. But talking to Phantom, it seemed a little easier.

“I remember the attack now,” Sydnee stated quietly. “It was a big ghost bear only it was the size of a pickup truck. It rammed into the store there was chaos and screaming. It was so loud, the screaming of the customers, the bear, building coming down on top of us...” her lips wobbled. “We’re still in the store, aren’t we? I haven’t wanted to turn around because... because I know my body is buried underneath the concrete back there.”

“Yeah,” Phantom breathed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get here in time. Most everyone in the area got out but you and a few others in the store got trapped under the rubble. Mrs. McDaniels who lived on Eustis street and was the first woman in her family to go to college plus Eddie Drake who came down from Chicago to check out the ghost stuff with their boyfriend and was a tattoo artist.”

“Did you talk to them too?” She questioned in surprise.

“Briefly, Mrs. McDaniels didn’t stay long, just long enough to tell me, and I quote, “stop wasting time on her dead ass and get to the others.” She already passed on. Eddie, they didn’t take it well. We talked for a while and I think they need a little more time to accept it, see their loved ones first. I warned them that the longer they delay death, the harder it is and the more you lose yourself. You’re the last, all the way in the back of the store. When you’re ready, I’m going to bring your body out.”

“Thank you,” she whispered before breaking out into hysterical laughter. “God I bet I’m a wreck, I think I put my shirt on inside out I was in such a rush this morning,” she sniffled. “What do I do now, as a ghost? I don’t have to, like, attack people, do I?”

“No,” Phantom sighed. “Most ghosts are just normal people, no one else but other ghosts will see you and you’re not going to be strong enough to interact with the real world for a long, long time. You can stick around a bit if you want, watch over your family but it’s like I told Eddie, you forget things pretty quick. Or you can move on, that part I can’t help you with but I’ve helped a lot of others go that route and I’m told it’s easy.”

“Easy, then why haven’t you?” She questioned angrily, the full weight of the situation crashing over her. She shoved him and he floated back passively. “I’m a freaking ghost and you’re here talking to me like you’re my therapist or something. Who’s gonna take DeShawn to his appointments? Or praise my sister’s creative messes? Or badger Ken into picking major? My life is over and you think you can float there and lecture me about it being easy to move on!”

��I didn’t mean it that way,” Phantom soothed, scratching at the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry Sydnee, I wish I could turn back the clock an hour, two hours, and prevent this from happening but I can’t. I’ve tried to mess with time and it doesn’t end well for anyone. I just want, I just want what’s best for you now. You can stay or you can go but I want you to make the decision that you feel most comfortable with. That’s all I can do for you.”

“I think I’d be sad,” she said, crying again, “being able to see everyone but not talk to them, to watch them cry over me. I don’t want to forget them either.” Phantom watched her, easily and earnestly. “What made you choose to stay? Why didn’t you go?”

“I’m a little complicated but I can tell you, when I’ve done all I need to here, I’m not hanging around a second longer than I have to. Being a ghost has it’s perks but it’s also, it’s being stuck in a place you longer fit, watching the world go on without you.”

“Okay,” Syd hiccupped. “Okay, yeah okay.”

“Okay,” Phantom nodded. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, please don’t,” she grabbed his hands again. “Please I don’t, I know I died alone but I don’t want to do... this alone. Please stay, ugh, calling you Phantom is weird sorry.”

“I don’t know if it’s any less weird but you can call me Danny,” Phantom, Danny, laughed. It was an ordinary name for a superhero but it fit. There was a special thrill in knowing the ghost boy’s name but it’s not like she was going to be around to tell anyone. It was scary, to think of not existing but also sort of comforting, like a long nap with nothing pressing to get up for.

“Can you tell them that I love them, in my place? I know it’s a lot and I’m sure you’re super busy saving the town and everything-”

"It’s not a problem. I’m sure they know but I’ll be happy to pass on the message,” he smiled and it made him look so young. For a second she was struck by how sad it was that she was relying on a kid a decade younger than her for support. But he was here and he was kind and he was what she needed right now. Maybe one day, he’d have his own person talking him through this last step.

“Okay, Danny, thanks really. For talking, for staying. I’m scared but I, I think I’m ready.” She closed her eyes and squeezed his hands tightly. “Do you, will it hurt?”

“No,” he said, his voice warm despite his inherent chill. “No, Sydnee. No, the hurting is all over now. All you have left ahead of you is peace. Thank you for all that did, you’ll be missed.”

“I’ll see you on the other side. Goodbye.” The world faded to a pinprick, consumed by light. The last thing she saw before she went into it was a stranger’s smile.

XxX

“Here’s the last,” Phantom said solemnly, delicately setting a broken body he’d carried out of the dilapidated building and on the sidewalk next to the others. “This is Sydnee Tanner, she was the only employee in the store at the time. She has cats at home who will need taking care of. Her dad works at Duke’s Car Services along with siblings and a boyfriend.”

“Don’t know how you know all that but thanks for getting these folks out,” Sheriff Newton sighed. “Damn shame. Keep up the good work kid, we’ll save the next ones for sure. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some rather unhappy news to break to several people.”

“Do you mind if I tag along? I have a few messages I need to pass on.”

#danny phantom #me: makes up a random OC for the sake of the story #also me: oh my gawd sydney oh my goodd im so sorry baby Im sorry #the exciting continuation of Robin gets weirdly existential and peaceful about death #just the image of Danny saving the living then going on to talk to and help the dead he couldnt save move on #it fucking gets me okay?#he really is the bridge hero for the living and the dead alike #i love him so fucking much #well now Im emo for the rest of forever #title from Taylor Swifts epiphany #amazing a story title that DOESNT come from the 18-19th century death poem #i must be mad #Im reading it over again and its like way longer than it needs to be bc I kept adding more and more to sydnees story

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endobiologist · 3 years ago

Text

Trans Guy Tips #3; Testosterone HRT, How to Inject, & Its Effects On Body & Mind, Pt. 1

Note: I will likely add more sections to this at a later time, as I learn more about taking testosterone and its effects. Be sure to check back!

1. First, and this can change depending on your body type and what your own endocrinologist recommends for you,

but personally for me and for a lot of transgender men, Testosterone Cypionate, usually 200mg each dose, is the best choice, and so is taking the injection form, doing that intramuscularly, and taking them bi-weekly, meaning every other week on the exact amount of time from the time you took your last dose.

My endocrinologist explained to me that this is due to if you overload your body with testosterone constantly, or if you overdose it in an attempt to get more effects, you will instead have the opposite effect where you will instead gain estrogen, and more of it, because testosterone converts to estrogen when there's an excess of it and the body senses it as something wrong!!

So please please never take more than you are supposed to take, prescribed officially by your doctor.

They usually recommend bi-weekly for most if choosing injections, because it makes it so the testosterone spreads evenly throughout your system the entire time, and just has a very even perfect use that makes the effect stronger and it makes your body get used to it quicker, which speeds up the effects significantly, and tends to be the healthiest option.

2. Also in terms of safety, never ever get testosterone from a non-official source like the black market, online, or from a friend. You cannot trust this, as it has not been evaluated medically whatsoever.

Also, most importantly, you don't have a medical professional there to see if your hormones and all your health is correct and good to start or continue, or what dose to take, or which kind works best for your body, as well as not having any checkups, which is also vital when you take a new hormone in your body to make sure everything is balancing right!!!

So it is very dangerous, you could accidentally overdose, or your body could malfunction somehow, or you could just be injecting yourself with stuff that doesn't work ever!!

There are many things that could go wrong, so PLEASE never ever EVER do this.

Get a trans-familiar endocrinologist.

3. Now mind you, there are other options for taking T if you just cannot handle injections whatsoever.

Option one are tablets called subdermal capsules that they implant under your skin, usually under your arm or shoulder skin as it seems to spread the best that way. They will slowly leak testosterone until they replenish themselves and you have to get them replaced.

Some people praise these as they are pretty even in effects, and they make it so you have a steady supply pretty well, and also you don't have to think about it very often as the tablets last quite a while.

The downside is, that despite its evenness quality, it doesn't actually have very strong effects.

It will still give you effects for sure, but it will take a lot longer, possibly multiple years, to see the full effects of it.

There are also things known as topical testosterone, where you can put a gel or cream on yourself and it will dose you with the amount it has in it.

This is the least invasive option, however it's one with a very small amount of testosterone, so it will take some of the longest to feel, or see, effects.

Also, I have heard from some people that if you are having someone else put the gel on you, if they accidentally get it on their skin, it will literally dose them with testosterone, which is not okay if you have someone who is not trans and does not want it doing it.

So if you choose this route, please do it yourself so you're not dosing any more on to other people, and instead just on to yourself.

It also doesn't waste the dose on others that way, and you get the full effects instead.

There is also things known as oral testosterone, taken through pill form. But I have heard some bad things about these, and I have heard recommendations not to use them due to there being a lot of downsides, as it doesn't absorb into your body nearly as well as any of the other options, even the slower ones.

But really what matters is what you need, and what your body needs, so even though injections provide the most amount and the most even supply when you use them, especially bi-weekly as well, it might be different for you as every single trans guy/transmasculine person is different, physically & mentally!

And some things work better for others, so consult with your doctor, and let them know the effects and the timing you want, and they will suggest options for you if you are not able to choose yourself without assistance due to lack of knowledge etc.

I would however recommend deeply researching every section of testosterone as I did, before going to an endocrinologist, so you are very prepared and know which kind you want already which will make the appointment take less time as well.

Also you never want to rely on the information of just one person, so always research.

Don't just trust my guide immediately or anyone's guide if it's just one you read, instead do your own research on many sites & forums, and find what works for you, as I can only say what works/worked for me.

4. And when it actually comes to the fun part, the injections,

I will give you a step-by-step guide on mostly how to have someone else inject you, but you can also take my advice for injecting yourself, however I have no advice for specifics of that, such as ways to calm yourself down from queasiness when doing it yourself, since I have never injected myself due to me honestly being just a little squeamish about doing it myself.

But I've always had my mother do it, and I have watched occasionally to see how best to do it, and have experienced it quite a few times now, so I know which way is the least painful as well.

If I were ever forced to do it myself, that way I would be able to because I know how to beforehand.

Now what you do is when you pick up your prescription of Testosterone, this is assuming if you take it bi-weekly and an injection form, you get two 1 ml bottles (A month's supply) and you have to unfortunately ask for & buy the syringe that comes preloaded with the needles.

Also make sure never to ask for just a needle, cuz they will literally give you just a needle, and no syringe.

It's happened to me before, LOL.

They usually have the syringes & needles in stock almost always, but there are a few occasions where they didn't have the needles.

But it is honestly annoying having to pay for something extra when the testosterone itself doesn't cost anything, yet the injection needles you need to use it do??? Lmao.

However it's not that annoying, because they're actually relatively cheap!

Here in Nevada, with no discounts used, they usually only cost you about like $3 usually, $4 at most, so it's pretty price effective.

5. I strongly recommend this, it was my mom's edition to this by the way, she strongly recommends as well,

that you should wait at least a month before taking your first dose of T.

Even when you just received it!

The reason for this is because sometimes they will be out of testosterone or out of needles, or you won't be able to afford it for whatever reason, you never know and it's so much better to have at least 1 if not 2 backup doses and syringes + needles on hand so you never have to worry about that.

I was impatient and injected the day I got it, and so though I haven't run into a problem yet, it is stressful knowing that if a mistake happens with the injection and the fluid leaks out too much, or something happens, whatever it is, that I won't have a backup dose.

So, I would highly recommend waiting a month or even two before injecting, so you have two doses and you pick it up way before you run out every time.

That's way more efficient.

6. Now although this comes from the point of view of someone who hasn't injected themselves, and only has been injected, I pretty much know how it works so I could if I had to, I would just be squeamish.

And for a lot of people they feel the same, so it's easier to get a family member or a close friend to do it for you, as long as they're always around when you need to take your dose.

Personally I have my mom do it because she's talented at injections due to having reptiles that needed some done the same way.

So, basically, you take everything out of its containers, and make sure not to touch the needle itself ever.

Once everything's out of its containers, then make sure to test if the needle is totally closed onto the syringe.

If it is, it's good to go.

Checking the tightness of the needle is very important because if you don't, you can end up having the needle pop off inside you, and release none of the testosterone actually inside of you, wasting a dose completely & it just hurts like a SOB.

Now, take the cap off the needle.

I would recommend always sanitizing the needle, the syringe, and also having a little gauze pad or paper towel piece, all soaked with rubbing alcohol to sterilize the area you will be injecting, so there is no risk of infection at all.

Although not extremely important, I'd recommend you'd also want to bring a tiny Band-Aid.

It will be a very very tiny wound, more like a dot, but it actually bleeds quite a bit after, due to it going deep in, so it's helpful to put a Band-Aid on just for the first hour or so, then take it off and let it breathe, and it heals super quick. It'll be gone before, or by the next day, usually.

Please remember not to touch the needle ever as it'd ruin its sterilization. They're usually sterilized, but it might be a good idea to sterilize them again just in case, to basically make sure there is no risk of infection whatsoever.

Also this is just a common sense cleanliness rule,

but I still want to state it to make sure people know;

Always throw away every single needle and syringe you use, as soon as you are done using it.

Do not keep it or EVER re-inject with the same needle.

And also be sure to throw away any testosterone you have left that is excess from your dose.

You do not need that, as it goes bad and won't work after being exposed to air, so it's impossible to save and use later, unfortunately.

Now, you will be injecting intramuscularly in the leg, either leg will do, hell you can switch them up each time if you'd like. It doesn't matter much.

This means you will be injecting on the area of your thigh that is a little high up, and towards the top, but a little to the outer side.

This means the testosterone is injected straight between the muscles, and goes to the bloodstream quickly also, when you inject.

Now you want to remove the lid from the Testosterone Cypionate bottle, and shake It up very very good, so that there are no bubbles, no particles visible in the Testosterone, and no oil separation either.

If it looks completely clear, or is a slight yellowish colour but mixed together well, then you're good to go.

The possible slight yellowish color comes from the cottonseed oil that they use to store the testosterone correctly in.

It makes it to where you have to use a little bit of a bigger needle to inject yourself with, but it's actually a very very small needle and it's not painful very much at all.

A lot of myths I read about testosterone before I received it said the needles were huge and scary and painful, but the truth is they're not at all, even to me who's slightly scared of needles and has low ability to tolerate pain.

Literally, popping a zit hurts worse than the injections.

The pain is something like a very tiny ant bite, or a slight pinch on your skin, it doesn't really hurt very much at all.

In fact, whenever I take mine, even the very first time I did, I didn't even make a sound! And it's over very quickly, as well.

I would recommend for the easiest time however, for a little higher price, getting a 21 gauge syringe needle, and also an 18 gauge syringe needle for each dose you take.

The 21 gauge is larger for drawing up the testosterone from the vial easier than the 18 gauge would.

Then you remove that 21g needle from that syringe, and instead put on the 18 gauge for the actual injecting.

If you want a cheaper price tag, and/or you're just lazy like me, you can get away with using just an 18 gauge needled syringe, however it makes it much significantly harder to draw up out of the vial.

It is still quite possible, but is for sure challenging, mistakes can occur so be very careful if you choose this route.

Now when you're trying to draw up the Testosterone Cypionate out of the bottle, you want to hold it upside down, or downward at an angle kind of diagonal, and you want to make sure the needle is visibly in the liquid.

Then, you draw back slowly, but try and fill it as much as you can. You can always dispose of extra that you don't need.

If using only the 18 gauge like said earlier, which is what I personally do, it is very hard to draw up out of the bottle, so be very careful, and try to figure out the trick to it, is all I can say.

Everyone has a different trick for it.

Don't use all the testosterone in the bottle however for your actual being-injected-dose.

You need to usually use only 75 mL of the 1 ml bottle each dose.

Also before you ever inject, but after you fill the syringe, make sure to aspirate the needle, which means to act like you're injecting it, in the air pointing up, needle upwards, and you very slowly push down, which expels a little bit of the testosterone, but you also expel any air particles or bubbles that are trapped inside.

This is why you want to put a little more in the syringe than you actually will inject, because when you aspirate the needle some will leak out and make it the perfect amount to inject, rather than losing it an amount of it that you need.

If there is even a single bubble inside the syringe, that can cause a heart attack, and many other deadly problems!!!

So do not ever inject, if there is a bubble in your syringe.

If there is, best case scenario is you try to aspirate it heavily, even if you need to then refill it somewhat afterwards, the most important part is making sure no air bubbles are in it.

If there is no way to get the bubble out, you'd need to buy a new syringe, as it most likely has a deformation of some kind.

But that's the worst case scenario, and personally I haven't experienced that yet.

That, however, is why it is so important to aspirate, to make sure there's no air left in the syringe before you inject.

Now you want to make sure to get exactly .75 ml, that you put it up to the line right before 1 ml and that's about the amount you need.

And remember; never take more than prescribed, it will have the opposite affects you want.

Now that you know all the details, here is how to perform injecting the actual testosterone.

You take the needle to the sterilized area of thigh that you cleaned with the rubbing alcohol.

And you can either use a kind of sideways diagonal position to go in, or you can use straight on.

I find straight on makes it much less painful for me, so I usually go with that, but either way works, and whatever is most comfortable for you is what you should use.

Now you just go in kind of slowly, and try not to move the needle around too much, just push slowly all the way in 'till the needle is completely in the leg.

Then dispense slowly the testosterone to the intramuscular area, and once all the testosterone is out of the syringe and inside your bloodstream, pull it out very slowly, all the while holding the skin around it firmly, so that it doesn't hurt as much pulling it out. If you pull it out fast it fuckin' hurts.

You can also sterilize the area of injection again, if you want, but it's not really necessary.

Then, you just put that Band-Aid previously mentioned on, for like an hour, and you're good!

7. Now for the effects of testosterone, though I don't have a perfect timeline. But around one DAY in, I noticed for some reason my clitoral growth where your clitoris pretty much changes into a tiny penis except the urethra doesn't move unfortunately without surgery.

It can grow one to two inches at max, although I have not experienced that much yet.

However for some reason I had definitely experienced minor clitoral growth pretty much as soon as I took my first shot of testosterone, which is incredibly rare, as it's supposed to happen six months to a year in and be one of the later effects!! But for some reason, it was the first effect I got, so that really goes to show that everyone is built quite different, so some things in this guide might not be totally accurate for everyone.

1 week in, I started experiencing a very hoarse voice, not a sore throat or anything, but just where your voice sounds like you're sick or you're losing your voice, for some reason.

This is the first step in your voice changing to a deeper baritone.

It's usually not painful whatsoever, but I have heard from some people that it can irritate their throat occasionally due to the foreign feeling of it, this stage doesn't last very long though.

Then, about 1 month in, I started noticing extensive hair growth. Also I seem to have got way darker hair than any of my family members ever had, and way more hair than they ever had, so you can't totally rely on the predictions of what your family looks like to see how you're going to change.

You kind of have to be ready for anything to happen, but usually the hair growth and the masculinity of your family will almost always pass on to you when you transition physically.

This can even include male pattern baldness eventually.

Sometimes it happens to trans men immediately after taking it, other times it will take years and other times it will be when they're elderly like cis men have.

Personally, I have not seen any male pattern baldness yet, however my front l of my hair slightly receded back and in the shape of male members of my dad's side of my family, but nothing like a total receding hairline.

It still looks like a full head of hair!

Usually you can tell what type of hair you get by looking at your family members closely.

If your family includes a lot of thick hairy people naturally, then you are going to usually get very large amounts of hair.

If you have a family with barely any hair, or very light coloured hair, you'll usually get a small amount of hair or a large amount of hair but with light colour. Personally, I got real lucky so it's clear that there are exceptions, but that's usually how it goes is that you can look to your family members as to how you're going to look and sound like.

About 3 months in, my voice started really deepening and I mean really deep. But the funny thing about it is that sometimes it will switch from being really low and masculine and amazing, to being kind of regular like before, to a little low but not super low, and even to what I call the "permanent helium" which makes you literally sound like you inhaled helium but it's literally just your vocal cords cracking that bad from growing to a male length.

Sometimes it will crack in a way where you can't stop talking in that high pitch, and it's really awkward, but it is also really funny if you learn to laugh at yourself, and always remind yourself that this is the process of gaining a deeper voice.

I have heard that vocal training to make your voice deeper also helps exponentially for more effects if you want a super deep voice.

About 4 to 5 months in, which is where I'm currently at, I've experienced way more hair growth!

Even more so than the start of it.

My head hair seems to be thicker and healthier for some reason, I'm not sure why because I have never heard of that affecting your head hair, its texture, or its thickness like that?

But it seems to have happened, so I guess it's possible?

I'm gaining a moustache and a few beard hairs, but mainly my moustache is super dark and already very visible.

Also due to my moustache and my deep voice alone, now I can already pass pretty much 100% of the time if maybe 99%, and I'm a very naturally baby-faced person too, so that's impressive!

My voice is mainly settled into a pretty deep baritone.

It still has a little bit of a high pitch sometimes, but barely.

I can tell there's a little more progress needed, but not much.

I don't do the helium thing as much as I used to, but it does still occasionally occur as lengthening your vocal cords, which is what occurs when you take testosterone, can be a lengthy and frustrating process at times.

I have also specifically seen lots of body hair at this time, way more than the sparse amount at first, including even a happy trail and a little bit of chest hair although it's not noticeable yet unless you squint, but it still has way more than I used to!

Also my hair on my arms, and especially on my legs, is thick, dark and everywhere.

I've also noticed my fat is starting tk begin redistributing a little bit.

It's not totally doing it yet, but it's getting close, as my thighs, hips, and behind area lost a bunch of weight, while my stomach gained a little bit of weight and so did my arms.

I also gained a fair bit of muscle as not only can I see it when I flex, but also I can lift things a little easier than I used to, and muscle seems to develop easier for me, even when I work out barely.

I've never been a very physical person, so it's still hard, but it's way easier now that I take testosterone.

Those are all the effects I have to record right now, as I'm only 4-5 months in, but I will update this with new parts as I experience more and more.

Also, please take all effects and timelines with a grain of salt, because everybody works differently.

Also I specifically was mentioning Testosterone Cypionate, bi-weekly injection form, so if you take testosterone in a different way, some of this might be different, irrelevant or even completely useless to you, but I am only able to provide information on these forms as they're the only form I've taken of it myself.

Now, to quickly dispel a few stupid myths that circulate around taking testosterone, to ease your worries.

Myth #1. "Testosterone makes you aggressive, violent, and a bad person!"

The truth is that testosterone does not change who you are, whatsoever.

It can however change certain little preferences like for example what flavor food you like will sometimes change, but usually not all foods, just a couple, or sometimes even just one.

It can change little tiny details, like maybe your favorite colour may change, and it definitely does have its emotional effects for sure, but it does not make anyone aggressive or violent automatically.

Testosterone is not an angry hormone, and estrogen is not a peaceful hormone, despite what most people stereotype them as being, so just blanketing everyone under the term of "aggressive" because they have testosterone in them is straight-up incorrect at best, and also sexist at worst.

Estrogen is not better than testosterone. Testosterone is not better than estrogen. It just matters what you want in your body.

What it may actually do is sometimes, people will experience a wide variety of emotions, including extreme euphoria and confidence (that's the effect I seem to have had, thankfully!)

Other people however will get very emotional and sad and will cry over things easier, and no, that's not an estrogen trait, testosterone can do that too.

And sometimes, on a rare occasion, people can get more irritable or cranky. But they're never violent.

They just get a little grumpier than usual.

However, all these emotional effects eventually do phase out and stabilize, and you'll be back to all your regular moods.

You never truly change who you are as an individual, and your beliefs and morals will stay the same.

It's not like you will completely change into a different person, you will never have to fear that, nor should any of your family and friends.

Myth #2. "Testosterone is steroids, right? So doesn't that mean that you're stronger than everyone else?"

This is a ridiculous notion, and I'm not even sure how it got spread im the first place, but I've heard it firsthand, and it's really as stupid as it sounds.

Testosterone is not steroids, they may have some similar properties due to chemical makeup, but they are not in any way steroids.

Steroids are an addictive & potentially harmful drug. Testosterone is a naturally occuring hormone that we all have some of.

For instance, testosterone also does not make you any more muscular just automatically.

It can make you a little more muscled subtly due to the muscle structure changing to that of a cis man's, but it can't straight up make you jacked, that's just not possible.

Also it does not make you any stronger than anyone else.

It might make you a little stronger than a cis female, but you are not stronger than a cis man, in fact you're weaker, due to starting out assigned female at birth.

I'm not sure why people assume that if you take testosterone, that means you're strong??

Because you're taking testosterone because you don't have any so clearly you don't have very much.

I'm not totally sure where this silly notion got spread, possibly as a way to make trans people feel guilty for taking T, by making them think it's a drug, and it's just not when you look at the facts.

It's good to dissuade folks who think this way, from this notion, as it can also make us look like drug addicts or on steroid pills, which both are just completely false.

Testosterone is not even addictive.

It's a natural hormone inside your body.

Myth #3. "Testosterone will give you all forms of cancer, and strokes and heart attacks, almost certainly!"

I'm not sure where or how this got spread either, it is true that it is possible, they said, in a scientific study, that they can't confirm completely that it could theoretically make your chances of stroke and heart attack a little higher due to your system basically changing to that of a cis man's, and going through a cis man's puberty.

But honestly, you have less risk of strokes and heart attacks than even cis men do, and you don't have a prostate which is a common location for men to get cancer, so you actually have an advantage over most!

It's very rare that you would ever come into contact with one of these things happening, pretty much as rare if a little less as it would be if you didn't take T at all.

There is also no evidence whatsoever that testosterone causes cancer, of any kind, let alone all of them.

A lot of people have tried to spread this rumour, to stop people from getting HRT treatment, which is really cruel and fucked up, and a lot of parents will use the "cancer" excuse as a way to not give their child HRT.

The truth is that it does not cause cancer, and that is a complete myth.

There's actually some evidence that being on T might improve your chances of fighting cancer, and having a stronger immune system for it as well.

Myth #4. This kind of goes along with the other one, but some people believe that "If you take testosterone, you could be shortening your lifespan by many years!!"

This is complete speculation, nothing has been confirmed.

It's possible, perhaps, that it could shorten your lifespan by a couple years, but not many.

You still would have an advantage over cis men again.

But it's never been truly proved that your lifespan gets shorter from T, so there is no reason to fear less of your life occuring just because you're trying to make yourself happier.

All right, I think that's all the rumours I can set straight, and all the info & advice about injections and medicine and general information about testosterone that I can give you at the moment.

I will update this post later, so please check back again in maybe a few month's time from now, as then I will have more effects to discuss.

But if I want to leave you with anything to think about,

remember that testosterone is a completely safe and natural chemical hormone that produces itself in your body already.

You just don't have enough of it to look the masculine way you want to.

It is not dangerous, it won't hurt you and if you really want it, go after it!!

But I would also very much advise you to be sure you want to go ahead with it, and that you are okay with all effects happening.

Because if you aren't, if you are even the least bit hesitant, not only will the doctor not allow you to proceed because you are not mentally fit to yet,

but also if you did end up taking testosterone then you could end up getting effects that you don't want, and having them be permanent, and causing you dysphoria for the rest of your life.

So please, make sure to know yourself well, and know your wants and needs clearly.

I also highly recommend having a psychiatrist or a mental health therapist for quite a while before going into testosterone therapy.

Not only does it make you more qualified to acquire testosterone because it shows you actually thought it through, but also it is exceedingly helpful for the mental and physical changes you will be proceeding with over these next years.

The last thing I want to say, my closing note, is congratulations on your testosterone, if you received it!

And I hope my guide helped in any way, and apologies if it ended up really long this time, there's a lot of things you need to know about T.

Thank you for reading, and I hope this humble trans guy's journal entries help you at all.

- Atom T. L. Yorke

#transgender guide #transgender tips #transgender #trans #ftm #trans male #trans man #trans boy #trans guy #transmasculine #lgbtqa #testosterone #testosterone hormones #hrt #trans guy tips

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bcdrawsandwrites · 4 years ago

Photo

Fandom: Psychonauts

Rating: T

Genre: Angst

Characters: Caligosto Loboto, Loboto’s parents

Warnings: Surgery, lobotomy, hallucinations, child abuse, EVERYTHING IS HORRIBLE AND NOTHING IS OKAY WITH THIS (but there’s nothing graphic)

Description: Just be still, and you'll be fine.

Beta Readers: @jaywings and Rocket (who I’m not sure is on Tumblr?)

Notes: who let me write Psychonauts fanfic. also some of the phrases in this fic were taken from this site.

---~~~---

“Scattering sparks of thought energy

Deliver me and carry me away”

“Here in my kingdom, I am your lord

I order you to cower and præy”

- The Mind Electric, by Tally Hall

---

Sometimes it was nice to just lay down in the park and watch the clouds float overhead.

He often had a lot of energy, both normal and... well... unnatural, but sometimes it was nice to relax, especially when he didn't feel like himself. His energy was ebbing, and there was something… something...

"Can you tell us another?"

He glanced up. Several of his usual playmates were standing around him, their faces lit up in interest. He grinned a wide, toothy grin.

"The boy babbled blatantly but was blessed with a brilliant brain!"

"Good!"

The compliment made his brow furrow. Normally they might cheer "cool!" or "awesome!" but he shrugged—he'd take it. It gave him a warm feeling inside, unlike the frequent chill of his own home. Plus, he couldn’t help but light up as he watched the smiles on his friends’ faces—some of them were still losing baby teeth, he noted, and the progression was fascinating. He knew what he could do to see more of those grins, too...

Without raising his head too much—it hurt a little, and he could see well enough from where he was—he glanced around to make sure his mother wasn't too close by. Luckily she was way off in the pavilion, talking to several other adults. Good; she wouldn't see, and neither would the other prying parents.

"How about this?" he asked, and with a tiny bit of concentration lifted a few rocks off the ground, spinning them in circles. Instead of cheering, however, the children backed away, their smiles fading.

"Look, he's trying to—!" one girl whispered frantically.

"Don't worry, he's fine for now."

He frowned, dropping the rocks. "O-oh, I'm sorry! I didn't think they would see..."

"That's okay. Can you tell us another?"

"Disappointed dogs don't do dangerous deeds." Wincing, he closed his eyes—there was a breeze that seemed to pass over his head only, running through his hair.

His scalp felt cold.

---

"Go on, Caligosto. Show the doctor how you can pick it up."

"Like this...?"

"No, the other way."

"But... mother doesn't like it when I do it that way."

"Do as you're told, Caligosto."

"...Okay..."

The fish swam all about the pond, but came closer to the surface when they realized he was watching from his usual spot on the shore. As they nearned him, he settled over the grass, staring down at his scaly friends. The fish seemed to like his company, and they wouldn't snitch to his parents if he did anything they wouldn't like.

On top of that, he felt a connection with them, almost like the sort of connection he could feel with people. They couldn't talk, and they didn't have facial expressions… but he could almost read them somehow, more and more as he continued visiting. Now he could sense what foods they wanted, or when they were scared of a nearby predator. It was nice to help them out.

It was also interesting to see the different kinds of teeth the fish had—some had sharp fangs, some had tiny flat teeth, and some had teeth in weird places, like their tongue or throat!

"Can you hear us?"

He would have jumped, but that would have scared the fish. As it was, he leaned forward, his eyes wide beneath their glasses. "Yes! I can hear you!" He could hardly contain his excitement. "I'd always thought I could hear you before, but never this clear! Do you think—"

"Good! Can you tell us another?"

He blinked. "Another what?"

"Another phrase."

Oh, right. In his excitement he'd nearly forgotten that he'd occasionally show off for the fish as well, though he'd never been sure if they could understand. "Friendly fish flip-flop fast when facing fearsome foes!"

"Very good!"

Giggling, he settled himself back down on the soft grass. "I'm glad you think so... my parents always tell me to be quiet."

Apparently, the fish had nothing to say to this, for they remained quiet, swimming just under the surface and watching him. So he kept watching them too, observing the light that reflected off their scales. But one creature caught his eye: a small turtle swimming in place. It was odd to see to begin with, but the paddling of its little feet seemed strangely frantic, its front legs moving in big sweeping arcs. It didn't speak, but he swore he could hear it—

Away, away—

---

"Is that... all he's capable of?"

"I'm afraid not."

"D—Father, are we done? I don't like it here..."

"Only speak when spoken to, Caligosto."

"Can we see anything else?"

"Yes."

"I-I don't want to—"

"Caligosto."

"Okay, okay! Let me—"

---

The seas were calm, and he had worked hard today as a navigator (or was he first mate? he couldn't quite remember, but that was okay), keeping a close eye on the compass and making sure they were staying on course. They were nearing the shore, but for now, he was taking a break, resting against a coil of rope with his eyes closed, enjoying the smell of the ocean air and the feeling of sunshine.

And also trying to forget his headache—he was pretty sure he bumped his head coming down from the crow's nest.

"You're doin' good today, mate! Squawk!"

He opened one eye, noting the parrot sitting just behind him. "Thanks, Crackers!"

Birds hadn’t been something that interested him too much at first; what kind of silly animal didn’t have teeth? That is, until he’d learned that birds have a weird organ that acted as their teeth. Fascinating!

The parrot cocked her head at him. "Do you know any more?"

Oh right, of course the parrot enjoyed those phrases. "The pretty parrot perched upon the putrid pirate's peacoat!"

Crackers gave a pleased chirp, ruffling her feathers.

Wincing, he found his headache was starting to get worse, like a bad toothache, and closed his eyes again. "Do you think we'll reach shore soon?"

We won't if you don't get out.

He opened his eyes. Crackers was gone.

---

"STOP! STOP! MAKE IT STOP!"

"What are you doing?!"

"I-I just did what you asked—"

"I didn't tell you to—!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Put him out, hurry—"

"We've seen enough, doctor. We'll schedule an appointment for your son next week."

"N-next week?!"

"Very well. He'll be there promptly."

---

The kids’ expressions had changed from bright smiles to tightly-drawn lips and wide eyes, and it made him shudder. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No, it's fine. Tell us another."

"The store..." He paused, concentrating. Strange, he didn't usually have trouble remembering these things, but it must have just been his headache. "The store clerk stood and... stared at me in stupor."

"I would too after what I've seen," one kid muttered, only to be shushed by another.

His heart gave a pained jolt. "Wh-what?"

"Nothing!"

He didn't like the way they were talking—it reminded him of... something else. Someone else. Another child stepped closer to him, looking down at him with a furrowed brow and frightened eyes. He felt the sudden urge to scoot away.

You're in danger.

---

"Wh...where am I supposed to go?"

"Just in through these doors."

"Okay... Why do I have to come back here to the doctor, though? I feel fine."

"Nevermind that. Do you remember what your father told you to do?"

"Yeah! The fun phrases. I know a million of those!"

"Good."

"Would you like to hear... w-wait, who are all these people watching? Wh... what are those?"

---

The fish were swimming in circles and starting to make him dizzy. He rested his head down in the cool grass, but it did little to help. "Oh... sorry. I'm not feeling so good. I should be going home..."

"You can go home soon. Tell us another first."

"Ugh... My mom... m-my... mother makes a... marvelous... meat... mincemeat pie." Recalling these phrases was starting to feel like what he imagined pulling teeth felt like, but a lot less fun. Was his mother missing him now? How long had he been gone? "I... really need to go home now."

"No you don't."

His eyes shot open, and he shivered as he stared down at the fish. "Wh... what did you... say?"

"Don't try to move. You'll be all right."

All of the fish watched him eagerly... but the turtle was still waving its front feet even more frantically.

---

"Don't worry about that."

"N-no! I know what those tools are—I've read my dad's books. You're gonna hurt me!"

"Nonsense. Just lay on the bed and you'll be fine."

"No, I don't want to! You can't make me!"

---

The ship heaved up and down with the swell of the waves. His insides rolled with it, and he remained lying on the coil of rope, waiting for his stomach to stop lurching and his head to stop aching.

"You stopped. Keep going."

"Ugh... The newt... nuzzled in a... n-narrow... nook."

"Good."

"No, it's not, Crackers! I don't feel good..."

"You're fine, squawk! Try to distract yourself."

"Okay..." Opening one eye, he raised a shaky hand, lifting the end of the rope and making it snake through the air, though it shuddered all the while. It was a lot more difficult than usual... Normally he could lift several objects at once, and delighted the crew by juggling them. He felt like he should be able to do other things too, but what?

---

"Oh mercy! He's going to kill someone!"

"Caligosto, if you don't stop this at once, I will call your father!"

"So call him! I want him here! Why didn't he come with me?!"

"Oh no, he's trying to light the chair on fire—"

"Go get the earmuffs, now."

"MOM! DAD! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"GET THEM NOW!"

---

The sun was covered in clouds, and the humid air brought a promise of rain. Why were the other kids still here? Surely their parents would have called them home by now. He wished they would. Surely his mom would have called him, too, wouldn't she?

"Tell us another," one girl asked urgently, taking a hesitant step forward.

His head was swimming. "I-I don't wanna..."

"Tell us now."

Focusing, he managed to force his mind to concentrate. "She sniffed... and s-smelled... the stirring storm."

"Good, tell us another," one fish bubbled from the water.

A sharp pain like a broken tooth filled his skull, his insides felt sick, and the rain was beginning to fall. "I... I can't..."

"Tell us, Caligosto."

"B... Bernie read a book... b-by the... ba—babbling brook." He wanted to wipe the rain from his face, but he felt too exhausted to move his arms. "C-can I go... home..."

"Squawk! We're not to shore yet. Give me another."

He stared up at the blurred vision of the bird. "Why...?"

"Do as you're told."

"Th-the... hummingbirds... hovered... a-and hummed in... heavenly..." His voice broke off into a choked sob. "I wanna... no... I wanna... go home..."

"Caligosto?"

---

"I WANT TO GO HOME!"

"Get it on him, get it on—"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!"

"Where did he go?!"

"The monster's turned invisible!"

"I WANNA GO HOME!"

"There! Put it on right—there!"

"STOP, I WANNA—"

---

"...go home!"

He blinked.

"You are home, Cali," his mother said, beaming down at him with a wide, pearly-white grin.

"I am?" Blinking again, he looked around. Indeed, he was in front of his house, with his parents both standing on the front porch, as they had been when he'd left. On top of that, his head didn't hurt and he didn't feel sick. "I... I am!"

"You're all done with the doctors now," his father said, smiling. "We're so proud of you!"

"You... you are?" He stared open-mouthed; his father had never told him that before. "I'm all done?"

"Yes you are, dear." His mother knelt down, but he didn't come closer—something was making his hair stand on end. "Almost."

His stomach twisted.

"Just tell us another, son."

"N... no..."

The smile on his father's face faded. "Do as you're told, Caligosto."

"N-no... no, no..." He tried to shake his head, but couldn't. "I... I want to go home..."

The pain was coming back, spiking through his head, and he cried out.

"We're going to lose him—"

"No, just a little more."

"No," he sobbed. "No, no! Mom! Dad!"

The park was flooding. The fish were swirling around his head. Waves crashed over the boat.

He had to do something. Anything.

Focusing with everything he had left, he tried to think, tried to move something, tried to make something burn, tried to call for help—

Did—did you hear that?

Cali?

The agony peaked, and his vision turned orange.

---

"Ooooh... ugh..."

"Is this safe?"

"It's safe for us. The psilirium will keep him under control during the procedure."

"But can he still hear us?"

"Son, can you tell us one of your funny phrases?"

"Sure... grass grows greener in the graveyard."

"You see? He'll be fine."

---

There was no park.

There was no pond.

There was no ocean.

There were several doctors staring down at him, a great many more people seated in the theater behind them, and an empty feeling within him.

Something was gone. Something important.

"How do you feel, Caligosto?"

His brain was slow to work, and he could not form the words, but if he could have, he would have answered:

Like... a cavity.

#dr loboto #loboto #caligosto loboto #psychonauts #my art #my writing #fanfic #who let me in this fandom

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kelyon · 3 years ago

Text

Golden Rings: A Story

The Storybrooke sequel to Golden Cuffs

Rumpelstiltskin tells the truth

Read on AO3

Rumpelstiltskin looked at his wife in awe. She looked like Mrs. Gold, with her tight black dress and dark makeup. But the way she spoke sounded like Belle. The curse wasn’t broken, so she wasn’t Belle. Not yet. This woman was something in between the two extremes, a light coming into the darkness--like a half-moon, or the first gray haze of dawn.

His wife spoke of dreams, she called him Rumple. After months of lies and silence, she was desperate for the truth. And he was desperate to tell it to her.

The table where he had laid out his dagger separated their bodies. He limped around it as he went to her. He held her hands between his own over his cane. Her wedding ring was off her finger, but she held it tightly in her fist. At his prompting, she opened her hand. He circled the outline of the ring against her palm.

“What do you remember,” he said softly, “about our rings?”

She bit her lip. Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to think. “I--I remember… that they came from the shop. That you have a tray of gold wedding bands that never sell for much. The ones we wear were the ones that fit us best. I remember you ordered me to never take it off. You said it meant I belong to you--that a wedding ring was more binding than any kind of collar or--” She gasped. Her eyes went wide. “Or cuffs!”

His wife gripped his hand, like he was the only thing she could be sure of. “I remember there were cuffs. I wore them on my wrists like bracelets, but they were magic! They were made of gold--or straw.”

She looked down at her wrists, clearly trying to reconcile how a thing could be gold and straw and magic all at the same time. “You gave them to me. They made me do whatever you said. But… But then I took them off. And when you gave them back to me, they were rings. And instead of wearing both of them, I only wore one. You wore the other.” Her gaze shifted to their hands, she rubbed his ring with her thumb. “It is a sign, not of bondage, but a bond. A vow we could break at any time, but mutually promise not to.”

Rumpelstiltskin heard his own words repeated back to him. Time and distance and curses had changed nothing about his marriage, about how much he loved Belle.

And now Mrs. Gold remembered being Belle. She looked up at him. Her eyes had never been wider or bluer or more beautiful.

“Which memory is true?” she whispered. There was a tremor in her voice.

He wrapped his arms around his wife, he pressed his face into her hair. “The second one,” he answered. “Is that the memory where you think of me as Rumple?”

Clutching him, she nodded.

“Then that’s the truth, sweetheart.” He held her close, rubbed her back. “Any time you remember being married to Rumple, that’s when the memories are true.”

“Those are the memories where you look like a monster.”

He held her face and used his thumbs to wipe the tears from her eyes. “But not, I hope, the memories where I act like one.”

His wife shook her head. A weak smile flickered over her face, like a match trying to catch logs to make a fire.

“You have magic in those memories.” She broke their embrace to look at the table. “Magic that has something to do with this dagger.” She picked it up in one hand, her fingers gripping expertly around the handle. “And something to do with me?”

Standing beside her, he set his hand lightly on her waist. Now that she was becoming Belle again, he never wanted to stop touching her. It was hard to stop at just holding her hands.

“I gave you the dagger,” he reminded her. “So you could control me, and all my powers.”

He felt the shiver go up her spine. “We used that control for sex, didn’t we?”

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled and kissed her temple. “Yes. Yes, I’m not surprised you remember that, darling. Those times were… memorable.”

Holding the dagger, his wife turned to face him. “Mr. Gold would never let himself be weak around anyone. Not even me. Especially not me. He would never give me power over him.”

He put his hands on her shoulders. “No,” he said softly. “Gold was too much of a coward to trust you with himself.” His hands squeezed at the cap sleeves of her dress. “That was a lesson I didn’t learn until it was almost too late.”

Bringing her hands up to his chest, she rubbed the dark fabric of his suit lapels between her fingers. “But you’re Rumple now.” She looked up at him. “How long have you been Rumple?”

The trickster-true answer ‘all my life,’ sat on his tongue, but Rumpelstiltskin wanted to give his wife honesty.

“Since October,” he said.

Nodding slowly, she looked him up and down. “Rent Day in October. That was when you started to change.”

“Yes,” he said. “I woke up the moment I heard Emma’s name.”

She blinked. “Sheriff Swan? What does she have to do with all this?”

He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Everything,” he grinned at her. Without letting go of her hand, he stepped away from her body. “There is something I must do, sweetheart. There is somewhere I must go.”

“Where?” She followed him as he took a step, her fingers threaded through his. “And what? Do you need me to drive?”

Already pulling out the keys to Gold’s car, he looked at her. “You can drive?”

To his surprise, she laughed. A radiant smile filled her face. “Yeah, gosh, since I was sixteen. I had to get my licence as soon as I could, so I could do deliveries for my dad’s shop, or take my mom to her doctor’s appointments.” She swallowed, her smile shrank, then vanished. “After my uncle and my cousin Andrew were in their car accident, Aunt Terri would only get in a car if I was driving. I don’t know why she trusted me more than anyone else, but she did.”

It had never occurred to Rumpelstiltskin to imagine this woman as a teen-ager in this world. But she had been. Or at least, she remembered being one. She wasn’t entirely Gold’s creature. His wife had been a child once. She’d had a family who had relied on her. She’d grown up in this world and learned skills that Belle never had.

Her eyebrows suddenly furrowed. “Wait, are those memories fake too? My family, are they not--”

“We’ll find out,” he assured her. He didn’t know the truth himself, but he’d be damned if he let this poor woman have one more moment of self-doubt. “Come with me, and we’ll figure it all out, together.” He held Gold’s keys out to her. “Do you know how to get to the cabin?”

With a wry grin, she took the keys in the hand that wasn’t holding the dagger and her ring. “I’ve been there once or twice.”

****

It was odd for Rumpelstiltskin to be in the passenger seat of the Cadillac. Odder still to see the woman who looked like Mrs. Gold driving. She adjusted the seat and put on her safety belt and checked all the mirrors before she started the ignition. Without having to drive himself, Rumpelstiltskin was better able to observe the other cars and pedestrians as they made their way out of town.

Emma Swan’s Volkswagen was crookedly parked under the “officials only” sign at the hospital. The car was a few feet away from the black Mercedes Regina drove--also parked haphazardly, as if in a desperate hurry. On Main Street, Mary Margaret Blanchard slowly walked away from Granny’s and towards her apartment. She held herself closely, looking visibly distraught. David Nolan pulled out into the road, his pickup truck fully packed as he drove away from her.

Inside the Cadillac, it was quiet until his wife spoke up. “So, um. I think there’s a lot that I don’t understand. I mean, obviously there is. But, maybe, instead of me asking you for every little detail, you could just, um, tell me the whole thing?”

Rumpelstiltskin smiled. He would have taken her hand, but she had both of them on the steering wheel. His other instinct was to squeeze the flesh of her thigh, but that gesture felt wrong, somehow. Things between them were still too tenuous, too unknown and too fragile. The woman beside him was his wife, but she wasn’t Belle. Not entirely. Not yet. Her wedding ring and his dagger both lay inert on the seat between them.

“Back at the shop I said I would tell you everything,” he answered. “Of course, ‘everything’ is quite a lot. Would it be all right to start with just the parts about you?”

For just a second, she took her eyes off the road to look at him. Then she nodded.

“Thank you,” he said. He took a deep breath, and began: “Once upon a time, there was a man who had so much wealth and power it made him into a monster.”

He saw her hands tighten around the steering wheel, but she said nothing.

“In his monstrousness, the man sought out a girl. He wanted to use her to satisfy his own cruel appetites. The girl he chose was beautiful and intelligent and brave. She was kind and innocent, and all the monster wanted to do was hurt her.”

His wife’s lips pressed together. “She wasn’t that innocent.” Her voice was thick. “Or that kind.”

“She was,” he assured her. “Everything she endured, she did it to save her family.”

She shook her head, but kept her eyes fixed on the road in front of her. “She abandoned them. She didn’t think she had a life or a future with them, so she sold out.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “She let that man take her away from them because she wanted a better life--a richer life. A life where she wouldn’t have to worry, wouldn’t have to care about anybody.” As she gripped the steering wheel, Rumpelstiltskin understood that she was trying to dig her fingernails into her palms. “And then, once the man started hurting her in ways that she didn’t like, she told herself that she deserved it.”

“She didn’t,” Rumpelstiltskin promised. Was any part of what she said Belle’s story? Or was it all Mrs. Gold? “What the man did to her… was entirely his fault. She bears no blame for any of it.”

“Doesn’t she?” She glanced at him again. “I mean, they made a deal. She benefited from all that bullshit as much as he did. He gave her a good life, she got off on most of it.”

She tried to smile, but all Rumpelstiltskin could do was rest his hand on her arm.

“If he was a good husband, he would have cared about her safety. He would have only done things that brought her pleasure. And he never would have made her feel like she was in his debt. A true marriage is a marriage of equals, of giving as much as you receive.”

“I am yours as you are mine.”

Belle loved saying those words. They were the motto of Jefferson and Leona, a couple who each wore a collar to show their devotion to the other. Belle often repeated the phrase in their marriage as they played their games of submission. Of course his wife would repeat them now.

“In the story,” he continued, “the man who became a monster, found that he wanted to become a man again. And that frightened him. He fell in love with the girl he had taken. He found that he didn’t care about power or darkness anymore. All he wanted was to give her a good life.”

“She fell in love with him, too.”

“Yes,” he whispered. “By some miracle, she did. And when he told her that the only good life for her would be without him, she refused to leave.”

His wife’s brow furrowed. “That’s not right,” she said. “She did leave. He was cruel to her. He made her go away. He told her that he didn’t love her and she didn’t want to fight him anymore, so she left.”

Rumpelstiltskin felt her words like darts into his heart. She was right, of course. And it was like Belle to remember the worst of things and want to bring them out into the light. She was compassionate and forgiving, but she would never deny the truth.

“You’re right.” He shifted in his seat. “She did leave. But she came back.”

“She searched the whole castle looking for him,” she sighed. “And she found him in the dungeon cell where he had once imprisoned her.”

“He was a broken man,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “He thought the light had gone from his world forever.”

“That was when you gave me your dagger.” They pulled up to the cabin. His wife parked the car and turned to him. “That was when you asked me to marry you, Rumple.”

He nodded. He wanted nothing more than to reach for his wife, to pull her into his arms and kiss her deeply. But positioned as they were in the front seat of the car, all he could do was grip both of her hands in his own.

“The only fair price for someone’s heart is to give your own heart to them in return.”

Her eyes were full of tears and love in equal measure. “Rumple,” she whispered.

Leaning forward, he kissed her forehead. “I know,” he murmured. “And I promise you, there is more. There is… everything. But first we need to take a walk.”

****

The well was only a short walk away from the cabin. It wasn’t useful as a source of drinking water, it wasn’t attached to any man-made waterways or pipes. Gold would have had it demolished years ago, but it was a protected landmark. A brass plaque on the side of the structure proclaimed it a wishing well. Local legend said that the waters of the well had the power to return that which was lost.

Rumpelstiltskin knew that many worlds had such tales associated with bodies of water. In his own land, the source of this magic was called Lake Nostos. In worlds with magic, all of the waters were connected, which often gave them greater power than any other force in that world. He had been waiting for the moment when magic would fully enter this world. Then, he would be able to harness the latent powers of these waters.

They walked through the forest, him and his wife. A beaten-down path led from the road to the well. She was surefooted, even in Mrs. Gold’s stilettos--or at least as good as he was with Gold’s cane. It was a quiet journey. When he looked at his wife, she had her eyes on the forest floor. Her lips moved slightly, as though she were talking to herself, trying to figure things out.

“How are you?” He stopped to talk to her.

She shook her head. “I don’t know if I can believe all this.” She folded her arms over her chest and bit her lip. “Like, when I think about it--when I think about magic and daggers and castles--it all seems completely crazy.”

Rumpelstiltskin swallowed. “I understand.”

“But--but it’s what I’ve been dreaming about for months now. That has to mean something, doesn’t it? And you don’t think I’m crazy, do you?”

“No.” He cupped her cheek in one hand. “No, sweetheart. I promise, everything you remember is what I know to be true. Please trust me.”

She put her hand over his own on her face. “I do,” she murmured. “I don’t understand why. I don’t understand anything. But I do trust you, Rumple.”

He took his hand away and reached into his trouser pocket. He pulled out the glass vial and showed it to her. The glowing purple-pink of magic shone against her pale cheek.

“This is the best I have to offer right now, in terms of proof. As far as I know, this is as much magic as has ever been collected in one place in this world.”

Eyebrows furrowed, she stared at the bottle. Her hand raised, as if she wanted to reach out and grab it, but didn’t dare to. “What is it, Rumple?” she whispered. “What kind of magic?”

“The most powerful magic of all,” he told her. “The only magic that doesn’t come with a price. True Love.”

“Snow White.” Even as she said it, she looked only more puzzled. “And Prince Charming. Them, together, they have true love.” Her eyes widened. “I watched you make this potion. From their hair!”

“Yes.” He smiled, remembering that day in his tower. “The two of them have true love. And what they create together, is a very powerful thing.”

“The Savior.” His wife began to laugh. “Emma! Emma is the savior we’ve been waiting for. Emma will break the curse!”

“Yes!” He wrapped his arm around her. “And soon, I think. Very soon. When it happens, we’ll need to be ready.”

She nodded to the vial of True Love. “You’re going to use that for something.”

He placed a kiss on the top of her head. “Yes, my love. I’ll show you when we get to the well.”

They started to walk again. Rumpelstiltskin felt the urgency building in his mind. He wanted to get closer, he had to get closer. There was a tension in the air, like the coming of a storm. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

He picked up his pace, leaving his wife to trail behind him. The well was in sight. They were so close. The work of lifetimes was about to be completed. He had toiled for centuries to have the curse be cast, he had waited for months for it to break.

And then, it did.

Not just True Love, but True Love’s Kiss.

The power swept over the land--stronger and purer than anything within the capabilities of the Dark One in all his terrible glory. Rumpelstiltskin felt it as a bolt of lighting that took up the whole of the atmosphere. But this power was not destructive. It was not harsh and damaging. No, the opposite. The intensity was enough to level cities and crumble bones, but the purpose of it was to heal. The light was a golden rainbow, infinitely strong and infinitely gentle. This was a force to restore, to rebuild.

To break curses. To bring back happy endings. To regain that which once was lost.

Rumpelstiltskin felt the magic pour over him, but he had no power over it. This was pure goodness, something so much greater than himself. It was greater than anything--except the person who had created it. All he could do was close his eyes and let his soul witness this rarest of magical events.

“She did it,” he whispered to himself.

When the moment passed, he kept walking. There was still work to do. If he was lucky, some of the force of Emma’s magic would have been absorbed by the waters in the wishing well. He could use that, and the True Love he held in his hand, to bring forth some magic he would be able to control.

“Wait,” his wife’s voice came from behind him.

He stopped, but didn’t turn around. They were too close. “It’s just up here.”

“No,” Belle’s voice broke through the mania of magic in his head. “Rumpelstiltskin, wait!”

His feet refused to move. She was holding the dagger. Magic was in Storybrooke now.

Belle had given him an order.

He turned his head to look at her. He couldn’t speak. It was her. Nothing had changed about her appearance. The way she stood, the tilt of her head, the steady, wide-eyed gaze--those were all the same. But now she was Belle, in a way she hadn’t been, even today, not before this moment.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered. “My darling. Belle!”

Tears fell onto her smiling cheeks as she closed the gap between them. With the dagger in one hand, she wrapped her arms around him.

He returned the embrace, holding her body tightly against his own.

Their mouths met. He kissed her with enough force and passion to erase the past twenty-eight years. She returned the kiss hungrily. Both of them gave everything they had to the other. They needed it. They had needed each other for so long.

When they broke apart, she rested in his arms. She laid her head against his chest and whispered: “Rumpelstiltskin, I love you.”

#golden rings #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #rumbelle fanfic #ouat

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songtoyou · 4 years ago

Text

Tempting Fate - Part Thirteen

Paring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Swearing.

Word Count: 3,019

Story Summary: Tommy is not a believer in fate or destiny. However, a new resident in Small Heath will question his beliefs and push his boundaries outside his comfort zone. Miss Young arrives in Small Heath looking for her soulmate and meets the Shelby clan along. At first, Tommy distrusts the newly hired barmaid but soon finds himself drawn to her and can't understand why.

Chapter Summary: Ada draped a blanket over you and put another log in the fire. She wanted to kill Tommy for standing you up. However, she knew her brother wouldn’t do it on purpose. Ada only hoped that Tommy was caught up in something that involved the business, and it wasn’t because he was in trouble or hurt.

A/N: Some sweet moments in this chapter, but of course, we always have to have drama. Thank you all for the amazing support this story has gotten. I only hope you all continue to enjoy reading it. Please continue to let me know what you think and if you would like to be added to the tag list.

Please do not post any of my fics to other sites without my permission.

Tag List: @owenniasstars @lovemissyhoneybee

The following day, you woke up before everyone else to sneak down into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. You looked around the kitchen to see what Ada had on hand, which was not much. Thankfully, there were ingredients to make pancakes. You sorted out the correct measurements and put them in a mixing bowl. It was not long until you could hear another pair of footsteps. You turned to see Ada walking in the kitchen. She still looked half asleep as she sat down at the table. You chuckled when she groaned and put her head on the table.

“Coffee or tea?” you asked her.

“I need another hour or two to sleep,” she replied and got up to get the kettle ready. She opened one of the cupboards and got out a frying pan for you to cook the pancakes in. “I’m surprised my brother is not up yet. Normally, Tommy is up at the crack of dawn.”

You stifled a laugh. Yes, you and Tommy had stayed up later than intended after Ada showed you both to one of the guest rooms. Hopefully, your late-night antics with Tommy went unheard by Ada, or heaven forbid, little Karl. You told Tommy that they needed to keep quiet and not disturb his sister and nephew, but the man was adamant that he needed you and didn’t care who heard.

Ada made you both a cup of coffee and went to retrieve the morning paper. As you continued to cook, she got Karl out of bed to eat breakfast. The three of you sat at the kitchen table eating and conversing with one another. You asked Karl about his school, and he told you about his favorite subjects. “I would have loved to have gone to a real school,” you shared with mother and son.

“You didn’t go to school?” Karl asked, confused, with a mouthful of pancakes.

“Karl, don’t talk with your mouthful,” Ada scolded her son.

“Sorry, mum.”

“No,” you answered him sadly. “My family moved around too much to go to school. My mom taught us how to read and write since she was the one in the family who went to school. But, it still would have been fun to go.”

“I would hate not being able to go to school,” spoke Karl, and you merely smiled at him.

You turned to Ada when she said your name. “How about we leave around eleven to go clothes shopping?” she suggested. “And Karl, speaking of school, you need to go upstairs and get ready. You don’t want to be late.”

“Yes, Mum.” Karl took one last bite of his pancake and got up to go back upstairs.

He passed his Uncle Tommy on the way, who ruffled his hair. “Hey, kiddo,” Tommy greeted his nephew.

“They’re in the kitchen,” Karl stated and headed to his room to get cleaned up and dressed.

Tommy slowly walked into the kitchen, where he caught sight of you and Ada laughing hysterically. “What are you two laughing about?” Tommy questioned, startling you and Ada.

“Jesus, Tommy!” you yelled, jumping in your seat. “I swear, he makes no noise when he walks.

I need to get him a bell,” you told Ada.

“He’s always been able to do that ever since we were kids. It was always how Tommy won hide and seek or tag. Never could find him or catch him.”

“You want some coffee, Tommy? I made pancakes for breakfast. I’ll make you a plate,” you told Tommy, getting up from the table. First, you kissed Tommy on the lips, which he reciprocated, and sat down next to Ada.

“Morning, big brother. I take you slept well,” teased Ada as she sipped the last of her coffee.

“Yes, I did, sister dear,” Tommy countered with a smirk and grabbed the newspaper from Ada. “The bed was comfy. Slept like a baby.”

“Yeah, I bet. Lots of commotion going on in there last night,” Ada mumbled into the teacup.

You turned to Tommy with a horrified look while he had a shit-eating grin on his face. “I better go check on Karl, make sure he is getting ready and not playing around. He gets distracted so easily, just like his father.” Ada got up and walked out of the kitchen, leaving you and Tommy alone.

“I told you we needed to be quiet,” you cautioned him.

Tommy only scoffed and continued to look through the newspaper. “Technically, this is my house. I can do what I want in it.”

“Eat your breakfast, dear,” you ordered and placed a plate of pancakes in front of him. He ate while you made him a cup of coffee and cleaned up. Again, the domesticity between the two of you came naturally. “Ada said she would take me shopping at eleven. Did you want to come along?”

“While I would love to watch you get undressed, I have other appointments today. Plus, I need to get the items you requested.”

Tommy figured he could get the molasses from Alfie Solomons. He had a meeting with the Jewish gangster where they needed to finalize their business transactions. Tommy figured a couple of liters of molasses was an easy task. Tommy was, after all, providing Alfie with soldiers to help him win the war with Sabini. Either way, he was getting you the molasses. He would always make you got what you needed.

You turned to leave the kitchen but stopped when Tommy grabbed your hand. He dragged you back to him so you could sit on his lap. Wrapping his arms around your waist, Tommy nuzzled your neck. You leaned into him when he began kissing along your neck and ear. His hands began to trail up your legs and thighs.

However, you stopped him when he got to your underwear. “Tommy, we can’t. Your sister and nephew are upstairs. We need to behave. Plus, we should get ready ourselves.”

You got up from Tommy’s lap, and you swear you caught the man pouting. He gulped the last of his coffee, which was now lukewarm, and got up from the table.

He once again wrapped his arms around you and kissed you on the lips this time. “Get yourself something spectacular for tonight. I’m taking my girl for a night out on the town.”

“Should I even bother with wearing anything underneath?”

“Surprise me,” Tommy responded and went in for another kiss. Before either of you could deepen the kiss, you could hear Ada and Karl coming down the stairs. You broke apart first and tried to compose yourself.

Tommy left for the living area to retrieve his cigarettes.

“All set for school?” you asked Karl. He looked cute in his school uniform.

“Ready. Here you go.” Karl surprised you with a piece of candy.

“What is this?” you wondered, confused.

“It’s ginger candy. I take when my tummy is upset,” Karl explained. “I figured you could use it since Mum said that the moaning coming from your room was you having an upset stomach.”

You felt your face heat up and must have turned five different shades of ready. “Well, thank you, sweetheart. That is very kind of you.”

Ada did her best to hold back her laughter and ushered her son out the door. You waved goodbye Karl and closed the front door.

“That’s it!” you shouted throughout the house, “We are going to a hotel!”

You never knew shopping for clothes could be so tiring. You were ready for a nap, and it wasn’t even two o’clock yet. Ada made you try everything, and half of the clothes you didn’t even end up buying. You honestly thought shopping for clothes would be a breeze since you didn’t feel you needed much.

Ada finally allowed for a break around three o’clock and took you for afternoon tea. “Ada, do I really need all of these clothes?”

“Of course you do. Tommy told me to go all out for you. And if Tommy wants to spoil you, then by golly, let the man spoil you,” Ada waved off your concerns. “You have to wear the dark green dress tonight. It looks stunning on you.”

You blushed and looked down at your plate of tea sandwiches. “I’m not used to this, having someone buy things for me, especially when money seems to be no object. I’ve told Tommy that I’m not with him for his money. I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong impression.”

“I would never think,” Ada began, “Aunt Polly told me about you. She told me that you were special and important to Tommy. I don’t know if you know this, but Aunt Polly has the gift of second sight. She sees things in her dreams. She must have seen you and Tommy in one of them. Saw that you were good for him. After last night and this morning, I can see it too. When Tommy is with you, it is almost like I have my brother back. Tommy wasn’t the same after he came home from the war. None of my brothers were, but the change was more noticeable in Tommy.”

You contemplated what Ada was sharing with you. Often, you wondered what Tommy was like before the war. However, you opted not to ask Polly, and you weren’t going to ask Ada. None of it would make any difference or change the way you felt about Tommy. Yes, he changed, but everyone who came back from the war was different. You experienced it with your family members. Tommy was Tommy, and he was the man you adored, possibly could end up loving one day.

You took a sip of your tea, raspberry flavor. It was pleasant on your throat. “I think with someone like Tommy,” you began to speak, and Ada perked up to listen, “I get the sense that he was a sensitive child. He is the type of person to do right by people. That Tommy didn’t like seeing people get mistreated. It is, sadly, what he experienced growing up. You know, like us gypsies, our community continues to be looked down on. I can tell Tommy has mixed feelings about the way he grew up. He wanted more. After the war and seeing so much death; that made him reevaluate his priorities. Tommy wants more for the Shelby name. He wants the name to mean something, have some sense of importance. And it isn’t just for him, but all of you.”

Ada sighed. She agreed with what you were saying; however, she still had reservations about how Tommy went about getting the things he wanted. “He’s going to get himself killed one day, I fear.”

Truthfully, that scared you too, but you had to tell yourself that Tommy would always make his way home; back to you safe and sound. “Tommy,” you spoke, “always thinks ahead. He is very good at strategizing. That is what will keep him alive.”

“I hope you are right,” said Ada sadly.

You hoped so as well.

After tea, Ada tried to get you to stop by one more clothing store, but you told her that you had more than enough clothes. At the last stop, you made sure to get a dress for Esme and a pair of fine leather gloves for Polly. You were done with clothes shopping. However, there was something you wanted to get, not for you, but for Arthur. While Ada continued to pursue the clothes on the racks, you told her you were heading out to another store, one that sold art supplies.

“Ada, I’ll be right back. I’m going to get something from across the street,” you told her and left.

When you made it to the art store, you began to look at all of the supplies. You were unsure where to start. Arthur shared with you that he liked to draw, particularly horses before he went off to war. It was one of his favorite hobbies, but he hadn’t picked up a pencil in a long while. You wanted to get him a set of drawing pencils and paper in hopes of getting him back in the habit. If Arthur got back to drawing, it would help him have a positive outlet, rather than drinking or fighting the pain away.

You asked the store clerk which drawing set was best. He tried to get you to pick the most expensive one that included way too many items. Instead, you opted for the twenty-piece pencil drawing set with a wooden case and sketchbook. The pencil kit included graphite and charcoal pencils, ink pens, and shading tools that Arthur could put to good use.

You spent the remainder of the money Tommy gave you on the drawing set and asked the store clerk to wrap it up. When you finished, you walked back to the clothing store where Ada was still perusing the racks. You looked in the bag of the wrapped drawing set and hoped Arthur would like his gift.

“Ada, I think we should be getting back to the house. It is almost five o’clock,” you reminded her.

“Oh shit! Yes, let’s get going. I didn’t realize the time.” Ada, albeit reluctantly, stepped away from the racks of clothes and picked up her bags, and followed you out onto the streets.

A taxi took you both back to the house, but first, Ada had the driver pick up Karl from the home of one of his friends. Greeting you both, Karl sat in between his mum and you. He pulled out a drawing from his knapsack and showed it to you.

“That’s me, Mum, Uncle Tommy, and you,” Karl pointed out. It was the four of you in front of a house with a bright yellow sun in the sky. It was adorable.

“This is lovely, Karl,” you beamed at the young boy.

“I drew it for you to take back to Birmingham. Mum already has many pictures I made for her.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you said and kissed him on the top of his head. “I will cherish this. I’ll tell you what, you sign your name at the bottom, and I’ll frame it. That way, when you become a famous artist, I’ll have the first-ever masterpiece by Karl Thorne.”

That made the young boy beam with pride. Ada smiled at the interaction with you and her son. It proved that she needed to head back to Small Heath more, especially for Karl. He deserved to have his extended family in his life.

When the driver pulled up in front of the house, Ada paid him and helped Karl out of the car. You both retrieved your shopping bags and walked up the steps.

Once inside, you plopped on the couch and took off your shoes. You wiggled your toes to get the blood circulating. Tommy mentioned earlier that he would be back by seven and for you to be ready.

It was already coming up on a quarter to six. You were exhausted, though, so you let yourself take a small fifteen-minute cat nap on the couch. The next you felt was someone shaking you away. You opened your eyes to see Ada standing above you.

“It is almost seven, and you aren’t dressed yet.”

“Shit,” you bolted up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. “I can’t believe I overslept.”

You grabbed your bags and ran upstairs to the guest room. You proceeded to undress and clean yourself up. Luckily, one of the windows in the bedroom looked out onto the streets. You kept looking outside to see if Tommy pulled up. You probably spent more time checking to see if Tommy arrived than getting ready. The last time you checked, it already twenty minutes past seven o’clock. By a quarter to eight, your stopped getting prepared to go out. You weren’t disappointed, just now worried about where Tommy was and if he was okay. You washed your face free of makeup, put your hair up in a tight bun, and grabbed your robe before heading downstairs.

You saw Karl and Ada at the small dining table, eating dinner. “Why aren’t you dressed?” Ada questioned.

“He isn’t coming,” you told her and poured yourself a whiskey. You gulped it down and poured another one. You took a seat across from Karl and sipped your drink. “I’m too tired anyway. I’ll tell Tommy that we can go out another night.”

Ada gave you a small smile and got up to get you a plate of food. The three of them sat in comfortable silence while eating. You mostly pushed your food around the plate, listening for the sound of someone entering the front door. When dinner was finished, you tried to help Ada with the dishes. “Nonsense, you made breakfast and did the dishes then. It is my turn.”

Karl got your attention by calling your name. “Yes, sweetheart?” you asked him.

“Can I read to you? My teacher says it is important to practice reading out loud.”

“You should be heading to bed, Karl. It is late,” Ada piped in.

“Come on, Mum. Just one story, please,” Karl begged and put on the cutest puppy dog face. Ada could not resist.

“Fine, but only one book, and then it is up to bed. Got it.”

Karl grabbed your hand and dragged you to the living area. You looked at the clock on the wall, and it read nine o’clock. You tried to ease the anxiety boiling in the pit of your stomach and concentrated on Karl reading a story to you.

You felt yourself being lulled to sleep by the young child’s voice. Just as Karl finished reading, you drifted off to sleep.

Ada draped a blanket over you and put another log in the fire. She wanted to kill Tommy for standing you up. However, she knew her brother wouldn’t do it on purpose. Ada only hoped that Tommy was caught up in something that involved the business, and it wasn’t because he was in trouble or hurt.

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic

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crushing-on-nico-di-angelo · 4 years ago

Text

Seven Nights in Cabin Thirteen

I’m inspired by another post I saw here that I didn’t wish to hijack lol, and OP deactivated or else I’d link their account here. credits to @the-ghost-king for the idea of a demigod therapy/Will being a past drug addict on this post. Yes this is a bad fic. It’s also my first fic ever. Please criticize if you see anything

Will never thought that he would ever appreciate his first monster attack. He was seven years old, and in hindsight his teacher probably only worked there to prey on young demigods (at least, that’s why he suspects the attack happened so early in his life compared to other demigods). But when Lee Fletcher sat him down 4 years later and told him that he was trans and would now be known as Lee instead of his birth name, Will knew that everything happened for a reason.

After many conversations with Lee about how he knew (gods bless that man’s patience) and with an older Athena camper who’s special interest dealt in psychology, Will realized the reason that he always felt disconnected from his mom and sisters in Austin was because he was like Lee. He was a boy.

Telling people wasn’t easy. Of course his older brother had to know; he was the one who introduced Will to this concept. Telling the rest of camp was as easy as telling Chiron, who told Dionysus, who always threatened to turn anyone into a dolphin if they talked shit about any trans kid. Telling his mom... that had to be the hardest part. How was he supposed to tell them? The only similarities they all had were that they were all musically inclined and that they were all girls.

Apparently, Will forgot that Naomi Solace was a musician. The music industry has more queers than an all girl’s school GSA. Her only questions were “Alright, what’s your name then, kiddo?” and “When do you want to set up an appointment with a therapist?” As for his siblings, well, let’s just say the oldest, Frankie, always knew. And it didn’t take long for seven-year-old Mickey to cut her doll-that-somehow-looked-exactly-like-Will’s hair and change his notes from high to low when she accompanied his singing on violin, as part of voice training.

Four years has passed since then and Will can hardly believe it. He’s stealth back at Austin because it’s just easier that way, but since a quarter of the camp knew him since he was seven, he figured there was no point; it isn’t like anyone treated him as though he wasn’t a man-- er, boy-- at camp anyways. So, life went on. He got his period for the first time during the Battle of Manhattan, that was no fun, but luckily Thalia was cool about it and made sure not to tell anyone. He started binding shortly afterwards, got a couple bruises hear and there. Kayla yelled at him for a week for that one, he remembers fondly. Discovered why it’s better to take off your contacts in the shower... that day isn’t such a fond memory. That was the first and last time he ever made himself bleed. Although, he will say that’s what sparked his interest in medicine and what made him the best doctor Camp Half Blood had seen in decades at the mere age of 15 years old. Life at camp was good, if a bit dull. He got used to the routine and the constant influx of damaged campers, the siblings and friends, and the always-perfect Texas Barbecue and Coke.

That is, until the War Between the Camps happened. Lou Ellen woke Will up before sundown that day and told him their plan. They were to hide in the tall grasses and wait for Camp Jupiter to show their ugly faces. Cecil had the genius idea to paint their faces and arms black so they’d blend into the night better, and Will supposes in the hubub of everything they forgot that his hair nearly (”nearly”) glows, even at night. Until Mr. Nico “I’m so smart, I nearly killed myself shadow travelling” di Angelo pointed it out. Whatever, it made sense at the time. They won the war against Gaea, not without sacrifice, and they finally, finally got past all the wars and destruction and health issues that they were able to just hang out and get to know each other as friends.

And boy, was their friendship amazing. Nico had the best taste in music from Will’s eyes, and that’s saying something because Will is a music snob. Nico could be a little stubborn at times, but that’s alright because so was Will (”Gods damn it, Nico, if you don’t take your medication right this second I will-” “You’ll what? Hm? You’ll force it down my throat? Last I checked that was abuse.”). They fit together so perfectly and became fast friends.

It wasn’t always sunshine and lollipops, though. What is, for a demigod? Will relapsed once and passed out right in front of Nico’s cabin. He was crashing from an exciting high that he hadn’t experienced in so long, and he felt so tired and ashamed of himself. Methamphetamine was a goddamned bitch, so while he was coming out of withdrawals, he made Nico promise not to let him leave the cabin for a week were simmering down. He had to make sure something like this never happened again. They Iris Messaged Chiron and explained the situation, and he understood. He made sure to contact the older son of Dionysus who had been Will’s therapist in the past and said what had happened and they agreed on a session for soon after Will got mostly over his cravings.

So now they had a week of downtime together. Awesome.

“Solace, do you need anything? Are you okay?” Nico asked towards the end of the first full day that withdrawals were over.

“I’m-- fuck. I’m fine. I swear.” He responded unconvincingly.

“That’s not what you said last night... no offense, but I’m not fully inclined to believe you when you look like shit.”

“It- It... it’s not something I’d like to talk about, if that’s alright. And... don’t tell Clarisse, please.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone, don’t worry. But I would like to know if this is going to be a common occ--” Before he could even finish asking, Will was already shaking his head and responding.

“One-time thing only, I promise. Gods, I’m sorry I showed up here at all.”

“Woah, buddy. That’s not what I was saying at all. You’re my best friend, I’m glad you came here.” Will almost couldn’t believe what Nico was saying. Then again, did Nico have very many friends? Nico himself certainly didn’t seem to think so. “In any case, you don’t have to explain what happened, or what led up to this, or anything like that. I don't need to know. What I do need you to do, however, is take a shower. I’m sorry to say so, but you smell like ass.”

“Yeah well, I’m…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. How do you explain to someone that he still wanted his drugs, and he didn’t want to leave the cabin because he knew he would leave to go find some before he would even think about going to his own cabin at this point.

“You don’t have to leave,” Nico said, perhaps sensing his agitation. “I have a shower in the cabin.”

“What the fuck do you mean you have a shower in the cabin?” The shock of this knowledge get him out of his stuck mind. “How did you get plumbing in here? How did Chiron allow this?”

“I helped design my cabin, and while I may not have all the experience in architecture that Annabeth does, I do know a thing or two. I did meet with Isambard Kingdom Brunel, you know.”

“I did not know. You- Who is Isambard Kingdom Brunel?” Will asked

“Oh, some civil engineer who is like a million years old.” Will scoffed at that.

“You’re one to talk,” he teased. He was never going to let go of the fact that Nico was technically like 80 years old.

“Oh hush, William.” William… never Will, like most people. William… like he was something special, something that deserved three syllables. “Anyways, like I was saying: take a shower. You look like you were up mowing all of camp with a flashlight.”

Knowing Will’s reaction to drugs, that wasn’t unlikely. He stood up. “Lead the way? I’ve never been around your cabin before.”

Nico’s cabin was unlike any others. Using some sort of Doctor Who-like technology, there was a living room, a kitchen, and one room. Surprisingly, the walls were all light or pastel, a stark contrast from Nico’s general (and unintentional) punk-rock appearance. However, the furniture was all a deep black. Nico led him to his room, a minimalistic one with a bed, a desk, and a lamp. Will wondered where all the personalization was, but made no comment.

“Here’s the shower,” Nico pointed to yet another room in this somehow huge cabin. “If you see something amiss or odd… ignore it.” Will didn’t want to think of the implications of that sentence.

He stepped in the shower and oh my gods, watching the dirt and grime wash off him after his 8 hour high-- which he did not want to think about (and not just because the author doesn’t want to taint his search history), it was too embarrassing-- was a wonderful feeling. He was still tired. He didn’t know why, it didn’t used to be this hard. However, he was pretty sure that he tried to clean the entire outside of the hypnos cabin before going over to the Hades cabin to do the same. This was the first and last time Will would ever thank the gods for Nico’s poor sleeping patterns, he had heard him outside and came to get him before he tired himself out more.

He nearly passed out in the shower again but managed to make it out. He looked around the well-stocked bathroom and realized something that he probably should have bothered to notice before: he didn’t have any clothes with him. Fuck. He wrapped a (black) towel around his chest because he didn’t think his body could take anymore binding and prayed to Dionysus that Nico didn’t notice that his chest wasn’t exactly male.

Luckily, the first thing Nico did say was “Is that a tattoo?”

Will looked down at his sun. “Yeah, it is,” he smiled. He remembered the night he did it, it was kind of hard. He ordered a tattoo gun off amazon and had Frankie do it for him shortly after the Battle of Manhattan. Some people might think it’s in honor of his dad, which is fine. It was really for Lee Fletcher, though. His mom totally freaked, for a really long time, but after his C-PTSD diagnoses she realized that whatever works for him works as long as it isn’t drugs or self harm. He knows she wants a future for him that doesn’t involve music, and that’s why she freaked. She thought it would ruin his chances. But it’s right on his shoulder, only visible in tank tops or no shirt.

"It… its to honor the man who taught me I could be myself." Will said after a small pause.

"That's a very lovely sentiment. If he made that much of an impact on you, he must be a very cool person."

"He was." Will knew that Nico heard the was by the way that Nico nodded solemnly. "I uh… I don't wish to be more of a bother, but do you mind if I go to bed now? That shower really helped."

"Yeah, of course. I can take the couch, you know where my bed is-"

"No, absolutely not." Nico sighed softly, as though he expected this. "I can sleep on the couch, in Austin I actually prefer it to my bed."

"That's-- no offense William, but that's weird."

"It feels less lonely to me," Will protested, then let out a huge yawn.

"Alright cowboy-" Will smiled at Nico's nickname for him "-get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"Nighty night, Neeks. Love you." he didn't miss the small smile on Nico's face before he walked away. Will has always been very loose with his 'I love you's like that. He figured it's better to say it too much than not enough.

He had found his old stash the night before, the one that Clovis had helped him forget about. He couldn't stop himself from thinking about last nights events. At the time,he told himself that he shouldn't do anything with it, and put it out of his mind for about a week, but eventually his urge to smoke overcame his self-control. He went on a rampage of cleaning and was absolutely certain he looked like a madman. The worst part is, he didn't even know why he did it. It was as though his rehabilitation hadn't even happened, as though this was something that was as natural as getting a cup of coffee in the morning. He was so mad at himself, so embarrassed.

These thoughts occupied his mind until he fell asleep about an hour after his last words to Nico. He slept with no dreams, for the first time in about a month.

word count: 2,245

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