#knowing my dad will be getting better treatment once he gets back home

[lovelesscherub]

after a whole fucking month of nothing but pure stress, my dad is finally coming home on an air ambulance today!!!!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Wibta if I told my mom she loves a cat more than her own children.

I do feel like an asshole for this. I’m 17f and I have a younger sister 15F. My parents are married and for the most part good. When have a 12 year old cat that my mom just adores.

This part is all speculation, but when I very young like I was 5 or something my mom had an event that changed a lot. She stayed with her parents and would visits us. My grandparents would help out and no one really ever explained what happened to her but she lived there for like a year, she did move back in with us. My dad got her a cat to cope while she was away. The speculation is she had really bad post partum depression and had a break down. The reason I believe this/and this is my own theory, was when I was struggling mentally, my mom encouraged me to go to a therapist and they asked family history and she said she had struggled with depression/episodes and had tried medication but never stayed on. She just said when she was younger she had a hard time regulating emotions, and she wants me to worry about me and my own emotions. The post patrum comes from the fact that I asked my dad why did you two have kids and he admitted he wanted kids and my mom was more on the fence. I also find it weird she gets really nervous around Mother’s Day and will often try to not celebrate. (She always says she could be a better mom)

My mom is a good mom don’t get me wrong. She’s always encouraged my sister and I to try and do our hobbies. She’ll drive us where we gotta go. I know she works overtime when she wants to make sure we can do stuff for the family. It’s just sometimes, she seems more like a distant mom. She’ll listen to us, do anything asked, but idk how to put it into words.

But she really loves this cat. And I do love our cat too, but this cat and my mom are bonded. The second my mom comes home and the cat greets her and my mom picks her up and kisses her. She calls the cat her pretty princess and a hundred other nicknames. She calls me my dad and sister honey, bunny, and sunny. I know the cat actually makes my mom happy. Her eyes light up when she sees the cat. I know she looks forward to coming home to the cat. When we go on vacations she’ll miss the cat, or if she goes on a work trip she’ll always ask for pictures of the cat or ask to see the cat on FaceTime. She throws a small birthday party for the cat every year and makes a cake. For our birthdays she’ll ask what we want and sometimes she resorts to store bought desserts.

So this is where it gets bad. Our cat is now sick and probably has a year left to live. The vet told my mom she’s a good cat owner and has always done right for her, but with her age, treatment isn’t really the route because it’s not gonna prevent death, so just focus on making the cat happy and comfortable (this vet appointment was her 6 month check up.) My mom hasn’t been doing well mentally. She’s always struggled with mental health. She just seems to have a shakey mind at times if that makes sense. She very much before would hide her struggles, but we knew she’d have them. Before she would like stand still just gripping the counter with one hand. Now my mom is definetly depressed. She will come home be greeted by the cat, and go to her room and cry with the cat. She’s been just not happy.

My sister and I kinda decided to see if telling her we got good grades would cheer her up, and she’ll say good job and will sometimes offer to cook something or get something for us, but her eyes are just like very tired. (There is also an app she can use to check out grades but she never once used it and will just take our word face value) We’ve talked to my dad about this and he basically said that our mom has always loved animals (she use to work with her grandpa at a pet store he owned, but apparently her grandpa wasn’t a good person to most people in the family except her, so that was hard on her). I asked my dad what he thinks and says it’s normal for someone to be sad about this and that he’s gonna work hard or make sure we get all our needs handled. Which is nice, but I kinda wish it was my mom. I don’t feel dire need of anything, I’m just annoyed/jealous a cat can destroy my mom mentally.

My mom has gone over load for the cat. She cooks for her, makes her dinner buys the best food and mixes then. She often cries while cooking, and asks the cat if she likes the food.The cat doesn’t even know what’s happening.

I was looking at prom dresses online and asked my mom to look with me and she was just out of it. She would just say she’d like one or she’s not a fan but don’t let that discourage me. She’s just kinda lifeless. I try talking to her about it and she’ll aplogize and says she’ll get better. (It’s been like a week)

It boiled over when my mom’s sisters came over. (She’s the youngest. One sister has kids and one doesn’t) My mom tried to be happy and perky but ended up crying about the cat. Her sisters kinda said that she’s gotta be strong for her family and my mom just cried saying everything’s gonna be so much harder without the cat. I wasn’t in the room, they were in the basement, and there’s a vent where you can hear everything down there. My sister and I do easedrop to see what they say (her sisters are loud but we can never hear what my mom is saying without the vent. Normally we do it because my mom is a more different interesting person and again we don’t know our mom well. Away from us she kinda puts down the facade and actually talks). I was just angry. Her life isn’t hard. We’re middle class, if she wants to go to therepy she can afford it. We all deal with grief and loss. Yes I’m gonna be sad when our cat passes, but she is an older cat. I don’t imagine my life becoming “harder” other than my mom being depressed, but she is an adult who will heal from this.

After her sisters left and she was doing her night routine, I asked her if she loves the cat more than my sister and I. She said that’s not true and if she could do something more for my sister and I please name it. I told her that that’s the problem is that she does stuff for the cat without thinking, but for us it’s all asking us and she’s the adult she should know. She’s said she’s not a mind reader and she’s gonna rely on the information I give her to help me out where she can. I went to my room because ovbiosuly that conversation wasn’t going anywhere. I feel like my mom understands a cat more than her own daughter.

My dad came in a little while after and we talked. He assured me my mom loves me and this cat has been like an emotional support animal through the years. He mentioned my one friend who has an emotional support dog and compared them and told me that the cat has helped my mom emotionally with emotional regulation and just helps her steady herself. I asked if we were enough, or if my mom regrets having a family and she would just be happier if she just left us for the cat and lived by herself. My dad told me she loves all of us, but depression can be hard to navigate. I asked him about how he wanted us more than our mom and he just said that he was more excited, but my mom wouldn’t have had us unless she wanted us (which I don’t think is totally true.)

I went into my parents room and my mom was there with the cat. Again going to the cat for comfort. I told her I was sorry for saying she loved the cat more than us and she apologized for how her treatment towards the cat can seem that way and if I ever need anything please ask. It made me mad because she again is relying on me to know what’s wrong/ or ask, instead of her just idk taking initiative. I didn’t say that.

I get people can be mentally ill, but she’s also my mom. I do feel bad about telling my mom she loves a cat more than me, but I also don’t feel too reassured.

[pablitogavii]

Holaa!!1)I wanted to say that I love your account,like im in love,and 2)just wanted to ask you if you can do something like "A day at the beach" with Pablo and his friends

Send you a lot of hugs💋💕🧸Have a good day/evening/night

I will incorporate this old request with a story I had in mind so I hope you like it anon <33 Also, congrats to Mikky and Frankie on the baby on the way!! SO CUTE!!

Baby Fever

We went to the beach to meet Mikky and Frankie after arriving to Barcelona a few days ago from vacation. I still remember Pablo's shocked face when he read Frankie's message about becoming a dad and his blushed cheeks when he told me the news.

Ever since I started dating Pablo, Mikky became my best friend and we spent a lot of times together from games to sleepovers when boys traveled so I knew before Frankie found out and I was really happy for her.

"Hey guys!!" you and Pablo walked to where they were on the beach and Pablo high fived Frankie while you hugged Mikky looking down at her not so small baby bump.

"Can I?" you asked politely knowing that not everyone is comfortable but she took your hand and placed it on her stomach making you smile wide. You haven't noticed Pablo looking at you while touching the stomach his heart letting when he saw your bright smile.

"How are you amiga?" you asked her as you both sat down and started chatting about everything that happened while you were not together while the boys went to the water chatting about their own things.

Pablo couldn't stop thinking about your hand on Mikky's stomach and that beautiful smile on your face. He couldn't stop imagining seeing you with the baby bump one day..carrying his child..and he just continued spiriling with those thoughts for the rest of the day.

"Um..hermano? Can I ask you something personal??" Pablo asked while he and Frankie were standing by the grill and the two of you left for a little walk by the water.

"Sure! What's up Pablo?" Frankie said noticing his friend getting a little shy about it but still determined to ask whatever was on his mind.

"When did you know that she was ready for it?" Pablo asked and Frankie chuckled a little at the youngster.

"Why? You want Y/n to give you a baby now??" he meant it as a joke but when he saw Pablo's cheeks getting redder he knew he hit the bullseye.

"Holy shit! You do! Then just talk to her..ask what she thinks about it. It's their choice because they have to go through it all and we are there to help with everything else" Frankie said and Pablo nodded listening careful to older man's advice.

"What are you guys talking about??" I asked after snaking my arms around Pablo's waist from behind wondering what got him so embarrassed. He rarely ever blushed so whatever it was made me curious.

"Nothing, amor! Let's set the table" Pablo said grabbing my hand and pulling me with him while carrying paper plates while Frankie and Mikky stayed behind together.

"Aren't they cute amor??" Pablo said watching Frankie put his hand on Mikky's stomach while kissing the top of her head. Pablo couldn't help imagining himself doing the same thing to me..and he wanted it to happen soon too!

"Mhm..so cute..but she is dealing with so much daily" I said noticing that Pablo's mood changed since then as it made him think it wasn't something I wanted.

"It was so much fun hanging with you guys today! Take care amiga and you better take care of them!" I said kissing both of them and Pablo did as well before we drove back home. Pablo was quiet the rest of the evening.

"Are you hungry Pablito?" I asked from the kitchen but he was still quiet while scrolling on his phone. Was he giving me a silent treatment??

"Pablo? Que pasa? You started acting all moody out of nowhere?" I sat next to him on the couch and he finally puts his phone away looking at me.

"I want you to give me.." he started but meeting my eyes he gulped not knowing how to properly say it or weather I would freak out once he does.

"I'll give you anything if that means I won't have to deal with moody Pablo anymore.." I chuckled not really thinking he had something very much serious in mind right now.

"A baby.." he finished his sentence and I sobered up raising my eyebrows while looking at him with a shocked face.

"Amor?" I said wondering weather he was joking or if I just heard him wrong..he wanted a baby?

"I know you don't want to have my baby..which is why I'm sad..because you're the only woman I want to have my baby..but it's your choice and I.." he started rambling and in order to shut him up from speaking nonsense I kissed him strongly.

"When did I say I didn't want to have your baby Pablo??" I ask after we pulled away and he gave me a big smile while pulling me onto his lap.

"So..so you want a baby too?? We can start making it right now!" he said kissing my neck but I pulled away knowing this is not something that should be rushed and had to be talked about first.

"Amor..we should talk about this first..having a baby is a big responsibility and something that shouldn't be rushed" I remind him

always being the voice of reason since he was very much impulsive.

"But..but..I want a baby..and I want to touch your bump like Frankie did with Mikky today!" he said with slightly blushing cheeks and you chuckled kissing his adorable face.

"Amor..they are older than us..and your season starts soon. We need to think about this before we make a decision..alright?" you say and he pouts making you sigh and kiss his bottom lip.

"I don't want to rush you princesa..I want you to be ready..and knowing that you want it too makes me happy..makes me excited for when we decide it is the right time" he spoke and you smiled nodding your head and kissing his lips lovingly.

"But I think it's adorable that you have a baby fever Pablito.." you tease him making him blush more and kiss your neck while holding you close.

"I just know you will be an amazing mom..and I can't stop thinking about you with a belly with my baby inside of you"he said into your skin and you felt yourself getting turned on by those thoughts as well.

"Amor.." you started grinding on him and he smirked holding your hips against his bulge and getting closer to his ear.

"Who has a baby fever now princesa??" he said making your face completely red while carrying you to your shared bedroom ;))

[mystic-kitten-writer]

Update :)

It's funny how it's been such a long time since I've posted here, yet it still feels like home—hello, loves~!

It goes without saying that I owe an explanation as to why I disappeared from the face of the Earth for so long.

The last time I was able to truly connect with you was when my family and I caught Covid (great times, let me tell you) - after that, I totally disappeared, and as much as I would love to say it was for good and positive reasons, to be very blunt and straight to the point, it wasn't.

For those sensitive to the topics of illness and mental health, skip to the image of a giant cat for the good news!

Once again, as everyone knows, my whole family got COVID-19. While my Mom, Dad, and I weren't too hot, we were functioning. But my husband was really struggling. And when weeks passed, and his health started to get worse and worse, we realized that this was something more than just COVID-19.

My husband is hesitant to provide full details about what occurred, primarily because it's still a recent event and something he's currently grappling with. Still, my husband went from being a healthy, physically active person to being bedridden.

It was a really hard time for everyone because my husband is like the sun. All smiles and outgoing - to suddenly unable to eat or hold down food, needing help with showering and to be very blunt, depressed and suicidal because he lost everything due to this sickness.

Unfortunately, cancer runs in his family, and while he got tested multiple times and came back negative (yay!), he is still not out of the dark. He has done numerous surgeries in hopes of getting better (his most recent this January), and at this time, his last resort is getting a colostomy bag. He is currently undergoing some experimental treatments because doctors don't want to do the surgery based on his age.

It goes without saying why I haven't been posting and updating anything. There's been a lot going on, and I want to be on his side as much as possible.

But there is some good news!

I am mainly posting this message because he has improved greatly these past few weeks and is now in a much better physical and mental state. Seeing him get his feet back on the ground has given me the confidence to resume writing.

I have never stopped writing, but I have stopped publicly posting my writing mainly because I didn't have the time to sit down and properly edit.

My friends behind the scenes have been real stars. They have kept me going and encouraged me to keep writing.

I aim to post small works and drabbles until I feel confident enough to finish my biggest baby, Limerence.

To all those messages saying you missed Yue and Zuko, they're back - sorry, not sorry.

Thank you to everyone who has written messages to me. Trust me when I say I read them all, and I truly appreciate them. It meant a lot to get them and read them when I was not active because there were a few dark moments during my time away with everything going on, and honestly, it made me really happy. While I could never express my thanks in enough words, please know I greatly valued it.

I wanted to keep this short and sweet, but as we know, I am not known for short things (I try I swear askdjahjhksdj)😅

Thank you, and I wish everyone a fabulous day with tons of hugs and kisses.

I can't wait to write to you all soon~ ❤️

[takumifujiwaraswfe]

hello, if you're up for it can i request romantic hcs for yohei mito please and thank you 🥹

YOHEI MITO ROMANTIC HEADCANONS

(My fav boy <3)

PRINCESS TREATMENT

Bad boy loves the most. Remember.

You're the couple. Like Fred and Daphne couple.

Parents of the group.. Well- first years in basketball club but you are.

HE WON'T PROTECT YOU HE WILL STRAIGHT UP TEACH YOU HOW TO USE A GUN (well not really a gun but he'll teach you how to kick someone's ass and then help you, I just needed Casablanca comparison cause he is screaming this song with his whole persona)

He holds his hand in your back pocket all the time. And if you don't have back pockets that day he'll just straight up hold your ass. Learn to live with it.

Your dad hates him.

And he'll 'steal' (he always says that he's stealing you then) you in the night through your window to take you on a party, yk 90s party.

And then takes you back home and walks you to your front door and kisses you so your dad knows he won't win this fight and he better just get used to Yohei.

He's so mature like- He dates you to marry, even if he don't have really good future ahead of him.

He just lives off of his dreams, telling you that someday you'll run away to the USA, 90s teenager dream

ALSO DID I TELL YOU HOW GOOD OF A DANCER HE IS?

He took you to his cousin's wedding once and as got married he whispered to your ear "you'll be next" and just left to congratulate his cousin.

He was dancing with you through the whole wedding and his whole family was gossiping about you two.

When you were sitting to eat next to his parents he had his arm on the back of your chair.

His mom loves you, thinks you'll finally make him stop being so problematic.

And his dad just thinks that he'll have to pay for the wedding (oh well)

Also, he sometimes borrows a car from his older friend to take you on a date. Risky looking at the fact that he don't have a license but he loves risk almost as much as he loves you.

Such a good kisser. Just make out with him and you'll feel like in heaven.

But he won't make out with you tho-. He's really mature and won't make out with you in public and it's hard to find a private space (just ask him kindly and he'll look for some quiet corner)

As I said earlier, you're like a married couple almost- Which means you argue like one as well.

He will just tease you to make you mad and argue with him cause he finds you hot when you're mad.

He's just not for the weak that's for sure.

still a 10/10 tho- (sorry I'm down bad)

[drdemonprince]

how did you know that seeking institutional help was the right step to take?

For four years I was always in high levels of care. When I transitioned out of that, I was a "revolving door patient" to ip units living with a carer the rest of the time. I sometimes self-harmed or did other actions intentionally to get hospitalized during that time. I'm going to focus on mostly that because I don't want to get into the weeds of how different psych treatment programs are categorized and run.

I would say that my goal of being hospitalized usually was to change something in my outpatient life - let my therapist know I wasn't willing to do something, get my companions to let me go for walks alone, whatever. I'd get hospitalized or call the cops on myself or send scary texts to my therapist and then try to end my life, eventually being stopped. I didn't want to die, but if I could prove to them I was willing to, they'd listen.

Another person mentioned a desire for closeness+physical touch, and that was a huge part of it for me. i even got restrained sometimes just because I wanted any touch, which is something commonly heard from incarcerated people. I had certain nurses and other staff who I saw as my family, calling my therapist "dad" and interacting in a needy, childlike way with floor staff.

I also liked how much it pared down my life. I was in college at the time, and found the social habits of the other students confusing and overwhelming, so I'd get hospitalized to miss class.

what helped you trust the professionals or the institution enough for it to be beneficial to you?

i wouldn't say I trust any of the institutions, but some staff earned my trust. I was a scary mean noncompliant patient so the few who actually bothered to get to know me were usually moments away from some kind of burnout where they realized all this shit sucks.

One of the things they did that earned my trust was to share about their own mental health or addiction history. This is encouraged in sud places, but usually VERY discouraged in psych units, moreso the higher level of care it is.

Another big thing was to allow me to break rules or break them themselves. My ex-therapist used to meet with me for extra time, give me my DVD player when I wasn't allowed, etc. and it felt like he saw me as equal. Turns out he sucks. but. during the time he was treating me he definitely helped me a lot with my thinking patterns, so the trust still ended up benefiting me, even if the relationship didn't always. He also talked A LOT about his family and life outside of work, and showed me pictures, and I even met his dog once.

for me this is an example of why therapists are kind of. not great? because he earned my trust enough to help me, I was at his defense. I felt like not getting better was something I was "doing to him", and his displays of sadness (once something I'd considered a positive aspect of his self disclosure) became a way to manipulate me into the hospital when I didn't want to go, without having to resort to force or law. i agreed with the assertion of psychology that he knew me better than I know myself, and gave every part of my personality, personhood, to the medical model.

so yes it helped as in now when I'm suicidal or about to bpd-style destroy my every relationship I think "play the tape forward what happens next" and don't. which is lame bc it means most of the people who treated me get to leave patting themselves on the back about how well im doing now.

which kinds of institutions have been *less* traumatic than the others?

A few times I got to live in supportive group home style places, and those are kind of nice! It was cool to be in a place surrounded by other mentally ill people. Much less lonely. In general, places that let you outside independently, let you access food independently (e.g. no staff in the kitchen), and let you keep some secrets from staff are the best. My quality of life was 100% better when all the program heads knew we were vaping in our rooms but just let it happen unless someone started setting off alarms. Ditto with like, being able to stay up late on Devices.

Having that independence, a place for my sense of self other than being a patient, was sooo sooo helpful.

is it sometimes worth simply not being able to act on the ideation, even if it means putting up with lots of institutional bullshit?

I didn't find the hospital particularly good at getting me to not act, instead they just prevented the worst consequences. All three hundred stitches I got for self-harm were while I was institutionalized. But like, my nerve damage is less than it could've been. I am not sure how to evaluate if that's better than having just died, because I have no idea how much the institution itself caused self-harm and suicidality.

all things being equal, would it always be better to be able to stay at a friend's house instead?

yes

if you could get 24-7 company from a loved one, would that be better?

yes. however. i think it would be good if people had some information about how to talk to suicidal people. like... i forget the training. but its similar to what they teach helpline volunteers. thats its ok to say suicide. to ask if they have a plan. to ask if theyd be willing to get rid of the means. etc.

SORRY IF THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE TO READ

this is a wealth of information, thank you!

[wildglitch]

Thing my Gen Z "Bart Allen" has said to keep himself from not being born

1: "I'M YOUR FUTURE GRANDSON" 2/10, really what the hell where you thinking dude.

In the end it helped him out in the long run, in a weird twisted way. Now his uncle is his dad, his dad is his cousin, and his grandpa is still his grand pa, yeah, totally not confusing. No sirey!

2: "My name is Bart Allen" 7/10, good job not giving them your real name

He was going to, but then he realized how stupid it would be. Grandpa still hasent adopted dad yet, so that would be telling a lot if he tell the Flash hes hia grandson while also telling him his last name was West. He just wishes he wasnt watching the Simpsons before he got into this mess, maybe then he would have picked out a better name then "Bart"

3: "No worries, Im from the 30th century" 5/10, Lots to worry about my guy, actually, a bunch to worry about now that he thinks about it.

"Bart", once again, panicked and sputted out the first thing that came to mind as a way to throw them of his trail. But seriously? The 30th century? You're suppose to be his grandson, not decendent! Get your stories straight before you cece to exciste!

4: "thats so crash dude!" 3/10, he will never forgive himself for that

Ok but it wasnt like he could use that actual slang from his time, if he did they would probably catch on seeing as a lot of ot was used before he was born, and he's, Aperantlly! From the 30th century! Thats a lot of verbal censuring but he makes do.

5: "The future is terrible so I was sent back to fix it" 4/10, while yes covid sucks, that isnt a valid excuse!

Now what is he going to do when not danger shows up!? He could just say he got the dates mixed up right? And they'll send him to them? But knowing them, theres no way in hell he will be sent alone. At least half of the leauge would want to go with him to stop the fake danger! Also whats with the aliens on the news?

6: "My parents are dead" 8/10, more like my moms a deadbeat and my dads going to make sure Im dead when he gets back.

It was a smart move, really it was. Give them the little orphan Annie treatment to get them to pitty him and so he can get home, but it accidentally worked to well, cause now that his future is "saved" they think his home is gone and dont want him to go. News flash people, Its past covid curfuew and he needs to be home yesterday!

7: "I'll never be able to travel to time time again, so its been crash." 1/10, Ahahahahahah... Ahahahahahhahah!

Oh he wishes that was the only time he time traveled, he wishes! But aperantly time travel is his specialty, and he cant escape fate. He just hopes he dosent end up preventing himself from being born

[fivenightsatfreddysfanfiction]

Memory of Mementos

“Y’know, you’re supposed to at least look like you’re having fun playing these games,” Cassie sighed, juggling the wooden ball in her hand as she gauged her next toss. Her eyes glanced furtively over at Gregory, mouth twitching into a matching frown when the grim scowl remained on the boy’s face. “When’d you get so sour over this? You used to get a kick out of beating my scores,” she added. He remained silent, folding his tickets into a stack, and Cassie sighed again. “This is about those weird prizes, isn’t it?” she asked quietly.

“I got an old security camera tablet, Mr. Schmidt’s name tag from when he worked for Freddy’s a long time ago, and the hard drive for a Chica that doesn’t have Afton’s personality programming but has fingerprints of the same kind of coding that’s in Freddy,” Gregory grumbled under his breath, just loud enough for Cassie to hear but not travel further than the two of them. “I don’t know what’s going on, but that stupid puppet thing keeps giving me this old stuff, or at least pointing to where to go to get it, and there’s gotta be a reason for it, right?” He looked over at her, an uncertainty in his eyes that made his frown look all the grimmer.

“Maybe you’re supposed to give it to Afton Robotics? Or Fazbear Entertainment?” Cassie suggested with a shrug, rolling her ball and watching it coast over the felt lane and fly up into a hole for another fifty points to her score. Still short compared to Gregory’s; the tickets printed out in a long ribbon. “All that stuff was from the Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza that used to be here, but got sealed up behind that wall or was hidden in the Egg Baby. You’re an Afton, so maybe you’re supposed to give that stuff to your family’s company?” she finished and collected her tickets, counting them up with a grin. A little bit more and she’d be able to afford the custom Circus Baby lunchbox set. It’d be a great collectable to add to her dad’s collection. Once he came home, he’d be happy to see something new to collect.

“I dunno. That doesn’t feel like what I’m meant to do with ‘em,” Gregory replied, folding his arms over his chest as he watched her fold her tickets up like he usually did. “If these are supposed to go to Fazbear Entertainment, why were they hidden like this? Sealed up behind that wall or stashed inside the Egg Baby? Miss Corbett says she bought a bunch of the stuff in here from some weird catalogues that came from her pizzeria start up package, so she probably doesn’t know about the puppet thing and the Egg Baby acting like this.”

The two of them left the skee-ball games to let another group of kids have their turn, walking towards the prize counter to see what they’d be able to get. Cassie let her gaze wander over to the Egg Baby as they passed it, watching as a boy and his mother fed a few tickets into a slot on the animatronic. The eyes swept back and forth as usual and didn’t change at all, even as the smaller Egg Baby in its stomach slid out and popped open the red ball it held to display an assortment of plastic toys and clear goodie bags full of sweets.

She hummed and then looked ahead to the security puppet. It was present at the counter, lifted up from its box to be taller as it held out a hand to collect tickets from a teenager to trade for a prize. The teen pointed out the large foam dart rifle and the puppet closed its hand over the tickets before turning in place to stretch an arm to near impossible lengths to grab the rifle and bring it down. With the exchange complete, the teen walked off with a happy grin and the puppet descended into the box to deposit the tickets before resuming its position at the counter.

“Nobody else gets that weird treatment with their trades,” Cassie pointed out with a blink of realization, “What makes you so special? Is it because you’re an Afton?”

Gregory clicked his tongue in irritation as they reached the counter. “Better not be cuz of that,” he groused and rubbed his head when Cassie gave him a questioning look, “Uh, I’ll tell you later.”

They reached the counter and the security puppet looked first at Cassie and her tickets. She quickly shoved them into her pocket and the puppet turned its attention to Gregory. She held her breath, watching curiously as Gregory held up his folded stack of tickets. The puppet held out its hand to accept them, spindly fingers carefully closing over them once Gregory placed them in its palm. It stood still for a moment, then descended into the box to tuck them away.

“It didn’t wait for you to point at anything from the prizes? It waits for everyone else,” Cassie muttered, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

“Yeah, it does that every time,” Gregory agreed with a nod, “First time it happened, you thought I broke it, remember?” His eyes narrowed a bit. “It kinda seems like it was thinking about what to give me. Like there’s a pre-programmed list of ‘prizes’ it’s supposed to give me specifically,” he remarked.

“But you’ve never been here before that field trip, right?” Cassie asked in confusion, “And Circus Baby’s Pizza and Parties got these animatronics ages ago.. so how did they get programmed to react to you back then when you never met them?”

Gregory scowled, eyes darting back and forth as he turned that over in his head. “That’s.. a really good question,” he agreed slowly.

The puppet had risen from its box again, staring at Gregory until the two kids turned their attentions back to it. Only then did it raise a hand to point at the far wall of the pizzeria, or rather the large vent grille that Gregory had crawled through last time the puppet had pointed into the distance.

“Fuck my life, you want me to go over there?! Again?!” he complained, throwing up his hands in exasperation, “Nobody cleans over there! It’s full of dust and crap. Do you want me to pick up an allergy or something?!”

“Oh, so that’s why you disappeared on me,” Cassie sighed, adjusting her backpack straps, “I remember you vanishing for a while and scaring me half to death. Guess we’ll have to search the other side of the wall for something?” Gregory gave her a pained expression before groaning in frustration, turning on his heel, and stomping off. She quickly chased after him, determined to follow where he went so he wouldn’t disappear on her again.

She wasn’t going to lose yet another person just because they left her sight for too long...

.

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

.

The grate on the other end of the tunnel shook a few times from repeated kicks before finally popping off to hit the tile floor. The familiar faint alarm rang in haunting tones as Gregory crawled out, nose wrinkling at the different appearance of the derelict pizzeria, then turned to hold out his hand, helping Cassie out of the vent. She pulled herself to her feet with his grip steadying her. Once she was clear, she looked around herself in awe, eyes wide as she took in the dingy blue-grey walls and grimy checkered tile, flimsy streamers hanging from the ceiling still as death. Rather than lead her deeper down the maze-like tunnel to the other section of the pizzeria, Gregory chose to break through a closer vent entrance but hadn’t expected a drastically different look to the place.

“So this is the old Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza from the far past?” she asked in a hushed tone, as though unwilling to break the silence. Gregory nodded, eyes darting over to see the pale blue mist gathering nearby to form the ghostly figure that had followed him around the first time he was here. “It feels.. cold.”

“Yeah, creepy, huh? Also head’s up, the old fart’s here to pester us about trespassing or whatever,” he announced, folding his arms over his chest and squinting at Six approaching them with a flat glare.

“Who?” Cassie asked in confusion, looking around them as she shifted closer to Gregory’s side, “Where?”

“Newsflash, dipshit,” Six declared, stopping in front of the kids and planting his hands on his hips, “She’s not Remnant-fucked like us. Can’t see me or hear me, so try not to look crazy in front of your little girlfriend.”

“Uh, sorry, lame prank attempt,” Gregory stammered out, face reddening as he glared back at the spirit, who only gave him a smug smirk for a split second before his expression went back to a mix of neutral and ‘done with this shit’. “So, apparently this was the old Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza where Mr. Schmidt and Mr. Fitzgerald used to work before it all got shut down.”

“Why’d it get shut down? People love Freddy’s Pizza places!” Cassie exclaimed in surprise before blinking and then narrowing her eyes, “And no pranking in creepy places! It’s not even Halloween!”

“Yeah, they stop loving a place once they catch on that a bunch of kids that went missing all at the same time there turned up dead and mashed to bits inside the animatronics,” Six drawled sarcastically and shrugged, “Place went through a lotta carpet and bleach. Probably why that Pizzaplex shithole has mostly tile and metal flooring; easier to clean the blood off.”

“Uh, too many meat pretzels?” Gregory filled in, walking away hurriedly to start searching.

“They had those back then?” Cassie questioned with a confused expression, following him while Six rolled his eyes, shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked after them both, “What a weird reason to close a place down.”

Cassie checked her phone as Gregory led her down a long hall, flashlight in hand to help him navigate them both around fallen debris from years of neglect. Every now and then she would lift it up to take a photo of their surroundings, peering into the dark party rooms as they passed them. He would pause in their walk to let her take the photos and shine his flashlight into the party rooms for her to better see.

Through it all the security guard spirit stood by them, silent after his initial disgruntled greeting. His expression remained mostly blank, unreadable save for the odd sadness in his eyes that Gregory could still pick up. It almost made him feel bad for bothering the guy by coming back to this side of Circus Baby’s Pizza and Parties, but something was going on that nobody knew about -again, because clearly nobody had any clue that kids and employees were fucking vanishing at the Pizzaplex thanks to Vanny’s weird experiments until he got loose and wrecked the place- and he had to follow up on it.

“Dad would’ve loved seeing some of this,” Cassie said suddenly, pulling Gregory’s attention to her. She had gone into one of the party rooms, holding a faded paper mask shaped like a rabbit’s face. She looked up at Gregory with a wobbly smile. “Bonnie was Dad’s favorite. Has a whole collection of Bonnie merch that he had stashed away but didn’t stop him from getting more collectables if he could find any,” she added and sighed, setting the mask down carefully on a party table. “He’s already got a vintage Bonnie mask, but.. y’know.”

“I’m sorry,” Gregory murmured, gut twisting as he thought back to those disappeared employees. He still had no idea if Cassie’s dad was one of them, a victim that Vanny had made Sydney get rid of when the Pizzaplex staff got replaced by animatronic versions. Maybe there was a chance of him being alive if he took a sick day? But then where would he be that he couldn’t come back home?

“I wonder if Fazbear Entertainment knows anything,” Cassie muttered with a suspicious tone in her voice, “since Mr. Fitzgerald said he had something of a deal with the company over his dad’s time working for them. Maybe it’s the same with my dad.” She pulled away from the table and shook herself off. “We’re here to find what the puppet sent us here to get for you. So let’s get going,” she decided firmly, “We can look into my dad when we get something to start with.”

Gregory nodded, unsure what else to say. If there were answers to be found, it wouldn’t be easy to find them and it was a pretty good chance they wouldn’t like what those answers would be. Cassie gave him another smile, a more confident one, and headed back out of the party room. He followed her out, glancing up at Six who had just leaned against a wall waiting for them to be done.

“You have any idea what I’m supposed to find this time?” he asked quietly, walking after Cassie while the spirit fell into step beside him.

“Since you’re heading this way.. I have a pretty good idea what the next thing is,” Six replied and sighed tiredly, “For what it’s worth.. I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Gregory asked warily, but the spirit didn’t answer, just tugged the brim of his hat down to hide his eyes in the shadow.

At the end of the hall was a large entrance that gave a clear view of what looked like a security office. Gregory frowned in brief confusion; there was already a security office for the pizzeria, a smaller one with doors on the sides that could be closed. What’s with this one that only had a front entryway that was so wide open? He raised the flashlight to look up at the ceiling as he and Cassie approached the office. Other than the cracking, damaged tile there wasn’t anything to indicate a door that could come down to seal off the room from the rest of the building.

That made him feel far more anxious than the other security office.

“This place looks like a wreck,” Cassie remarked with a huff, walking in and picking her way past knocked over cardboard boxes and old posters that were strewn across the floor. “Didn’t anyone ever clean up in here?” She leaned over to look into large open vents in the sides of the office, taking more photos with her phone, the flash of the camera app lighting up the insides of the vents in bursts.

“There’s this guy who looks after this place who said that it got raided a long time ago, so the mess is probably from that,” Gregory offered, stepping up after Cassie lost interest in the vent. He kicked a cardboard box full of dusty streamers and party hats in front of the opening and felt a little more settled. He’d already done the same for the other vent so now both entrances were blocked. What else was he supposed to do?

“Hey, check out these lockers!” Cassie said excitedly, pointing at the dull and rusted metal containers lined up along the back wall behind the oddly bare desk. Gregory glanced over at Six for a moment, the spirit leaning against the entrance to the office and still silent, just watching them, before going over to join the girl wiping at the labels of the lockers where she could reach. “This one belonged to Mr. Fitzgerald,” she told him in a hushed voice, eyes bright with curiosity as she pointed at a locker.

“Wonder if he left anything in there?” Gregory asked and jiggled the latch to see if it would open. There wasn’t a lock like on some of the other lockers, and although it was hard to move from rust, the latch eventually gave way. The door swung open slowly and with a harsh scraping, metal dust flaking and breaking away from the hinges. Both kids looked in eagerly, curious to what may be inside.

The shelf in the locker had a sort of mask made from what appeared to be the actual head of an old Freddy Fazbear, the face and cheeks covered in aged fur fabric, straps screwed into place and held together by a cheap buckle. Next to it was a soft blue cap with the words ‘Night Shift’ printed onto it cheaply in black block lettering. A spare night shift uniform hung directly under it, matching soft blue shirt and navy blue slacks neatly pressed and faded in color from the dust that covered them. On the floor of the locker was an open first aid kit, many of its supplies missing, likely used, and a few spilled out. Some bandages fluttered out when the door opened, brand characters smiling on the wrappers from where they landed on the office floor.

“Wh-what kinda job did Mr. Fitzgerald have to be using up so much medical stuff when he was here?” Cassie asked warily, staring down at the kit with her brow furrowed. She looked up as Gregory reached out to pull the shirt forward for a better look at it.

“Short sleeves,” he remarked quietly. Cassie gave him a questioning look and his expression grew pinched. “You ever see Mr. Fitzgerald wear short sleeves now?”

Her look of confusion stayed in place for a while until a faintly horrified one took its place. “What happened here?!” she asked in a hushed scream, backing away from the locker. A creaking sounded overhead and Cassie looked up at the ceiling in fear.

“Cassie, it’s okay. This was all in the past! We’re good, we’re safe!” Gregory told her, glancing over at Six in hopes that he wasn’t lying through his teeth. The spirit nodded and he relaxed only a little. The open doorway was still making the hair on the back of his neck stand.

“Why would he need so much first aid on the night shift?!” she demanded to know, fists planted on her hips, “All he had to do was just watch cameras, right?!” Gregory shrugged, eyes wide. Maybe he hadn’t been joking about the whole ‘five nights of dealing with killer animatronics’ too. Freddy had to give him a lot of first aid during that night long ago. “Let’s just get what you need to find and go; it really is creepy in here,” Cassie whimpered, hugging herself and glancing up at the ceiling again.

“Sure,” Gregory agreed and looked at the contents of the locker again. It was so strange to see a uniform that Mr. Fitzgerald used to wear when he was young. So small...

Nothing really popped out at him as something to take, so Gregory carefully closed the locker door, listening to the latch lock in place. It sounded strangely final, like it wouldn’t feel right to open it again, ever. He smoothed his hand over the locker, palm pressed to the metal, then finally left it to look at another one.

Wait, why did Mr. Schmidt have a locker on this side too? “He had two lockers? What the heck?” Gregory questioned, tapping at the nameplate on the locker beside Mr. Fitzgerald’s one. He didn’t take Cassie as far down that main hall as he went last time, so maybe it was because the pizzeria was actually big enough that it needed two security offices? The Pizzaplex had so many more for each section of the place so that sort of made sense. Mr. Schmidt would be the more senior security guard so he’d have a locker in both offices first; maybe Mr. Fitzgerald only managed to get the one before the place shut down?

“You got an old security tablet and Mr. Schmidt’s name tag,” Cassie puzzled out as she rubbed her chin, “Maybe the puppet wants you to collect things that belonged to him?” Her mouth twisted to one side in confusion. “But why him? What’s the big deal about this one guard that isn’t even around anymore? Is Fazbear Entertainment that interested in the guy’s stuff?”

“Maybe he had dirt on the company and this was a way of hiding that dirt so Fazbear Entertainment couldn’t make it disappear? Mr. Fitzgerald said that he had evidence about some stuff involving his dad and the company that they didn’t want showing up in court, so I guess Mr. Schmidt had some other stuff for his own reasons,” Gregory offered with a shrug, jiggling the latch of the locker. Just like the one for Mr. Fitzgerald, it was rusty and hard to move but it eventually gave way, opening slowly with harsh scraping as Gregory fought against the aged hinges. Cassie peeked in over his shoulder as he stared at the contents in blank confusion.

There wasn’t much inside the locker beside small spatterings of rusty-brown stains on the shelf and floor, a strong smell of iron drifting around. An old fashioned camera rested on the locker floor as well, a point and shoot type that could print out its own photos to develop over time. Gregory had the FazCam back home that could do the same if he bothered to get the stuff for it. He had been mostly interested in the flash it could produce to stun animatronics back in the Pizzaplex.

“Is that.. blood?” Cassie whispered, her voice carrying a note of dread, “Why’s there blood in his locker?”

The camera wasn’t colorful or fun-looking at all. It was very plain and boring, brown and gray, the brand name sticker long faded and unreadable.

“So is the camera the thing you’re supposed to take?” Cassie asked hesitantly, “Gregory?”

A piece of white tape was pasted along the side near the bottom of the camera, the name ‘Mike’ scrawled on it in black marker. If any photos had been taken with it, they weren’t in the locker anymore.

He reached in and carefully picked up the camera, a numbness settling over him. Muscle memory took over as he lifted the viewing lens to his eye, turned, and pointed the other lens at Cassie. She gave him a concerned look as he pressed the button and took a picture. The flash wasn’t as bright or blinding, and the photo slid out the bottom to be taken as he lowered the camera from his face.

“Gregory?” Cassie asked softly, the concern still in her expression, “Why are you crying?”

How many people disappeared over the length of time he was stuck in the Pizzaplex’s lab? (How many people were swept under the rug after a failed night?) So many kids taken from families and killed. (So many guards snatched away from their families on a whim.) And here he was, the one who got away and built a family from the pieces he pulled from the Pizzaplex. (And there he was, the only survivor for the longest time, ever the one to walk out in the morning.)

Gregory raised a hand to his head, a dull ache throbbing behind his eyes as he blinked tears away. “It hurts,” he murmured distantly and Cassie immediately started digging into her backpack for spare headache medicine. With her distracted by that, he slid his gaze over to Six. The spirit just looked back at him with a forlorn expression, glancing down at the camera in his hands briefly.

“Guilt is painful,” Six told him solemnly, arms folded over his chest, hands gripping his sleeves tightly. Bandages were wrapped around his fingers, a detail Gregory had never noticed before. “The fact I still exist means it never stopped bein’ painful.” He smiled weakly. “But you already knew that, didn’t ya?”

“Here,” Cassie said, holding out a bottle of water and a pair of capsules in her hands, “This should help.” Gregory accepted the bottle and medication, taking them in silence while she took the camera from him and studied it carefully. “This is definitely the real deal. My mom used to have a camera like this. Grandma has photo albums full of pictures she took with it. What kind of photos did Mr. Schmidt take and where did they all go?” she wondered aloud.

Gregory rubbed his face dry with the back of one hand, the half empty bottle of water held tight in his grip. An instant photo camera, a pair of lockers bare of any photos, many lockers with nameplates scratched up or removed, and that look of guilt on Six’s face. Maybe Fazbear Entertainment had a habit of making people disappear long before the Pizzaplex was built? And yet both Mr. Fitzgerald and Mr. Schmidt walked away from everything in one piece, so why was he being directed to collect Mr. Schmidt’s things? He sniffled, rolling the bottle in both hands as he looked up at the other lockers.

“I think.. I think he was taking pictures of everyone that ever came to work here,” he said out loud and looked over at Cassie as she gingerly tucked the camera into her backpack for safekeeping.

“Well, yeah, that makes sense,” she agreed, reaching out to help him up as they prepared to leave the office, “There’s a big wall of photos at the supermarket for Employees of the Month, so they probably had something like that here.”

“Maybe,” Gregory said uneasily and finished off the bottle of water before dropping the plastic container into the office trash can. More crumpled paper cups jostled with the movement, old trash welcoming new.

The two kids began their walk back to the connecting vent, passing through the open entrance together as Six pushed away from the wall to follow alongside them. “I just don’t get it. Why do you wanna stay?” the spirit mused aloud, cocking his head aside when Gregory glared at him over his shoulder. “The hell you gettin’ mad at me for?” Six asked with a frown, “You’re the one walkin’ off with Mike’s relics. I need those for power, ya lil shit.” Gregory stuck out his tongue in response and Six just rolled his eyes in exasperation.

Shoulda known better than to be asking questions when he couldn’t answer. He was the one who told Gregory not to look crazy in front of Cassie, so why was he getting huffy that he couldn’t answer normally?

When they reached the opening for the ventilation tunnel, Gregory offered for Cassie to go through first. “I’m gonna try and put the cover back on behind us,” he claimed weakly, holding up the bent grille, “I’ll catch up in a bit, don’t worry!”

“Alright, but if you don’t show up over at Circus Baby’s in ten minutes, I’m telling your mom,” Cassie threatened, then crawled into the tunnel and disappeared into the shadows, soft thumps fading away as the faint alarms went off once more.

“As for you,” Gregory went on, turning to scowl at Six as he tossed the grille aside, “what the hell is your problem?! I’m trying to get some answers and you’re being a pain in the ass!”

“Takes one to know one,” Six shot back, hands on his hips as he glared back down at the boy, “And if you want my advice, kid, you’d be better off not huntin’ for more pieces.” The guilt flashed across his face for a moment before the scowl took its place again. “Leave this sorta shit to the Guards. Ya have a family that’s lookin’ out for ya and ya got a whole life ahead of ya. It’s not easy gettin’ away from Aftons or Fazfuck, but you did it. Don’t risk getting caught up in this shit again,” he urged.

“Fat load of good that did; none of them did anything until Sydney got kidnapped and by then me and Vanessa lost everything about ourselves!” Gregory snapped, one hand splayed over his chest, “My memories are gone! My Remnant’s been fucked to hell and back! Hers too! I dunno why that stupid puppet started giving me that guy’s old stuff, but if he had something that could shut down Fazbear Entertainment for good, then I’m gonna keep collecting it until I get those answers!”

“He had something the Aftons wanted, alright,” Six said scornfully, “And it sure as hell wasn’t any ‘dirt’ on their fucking company. If you thought they were already bad now, killing so many people over the years for their bullshit experiments, you’re definitely not gonna like how fucked everyone will be if they get hold of The Strength to Survive and The Warmth of Life. Do me a favor and stay the hell away from it all!”

“I’m gettin’ those answers and there ain’t shit you can do to stop me,” Gregory huffed, preparing to get into the vent himself, “Whatever those things are that Vanny wants, I’ll just get them first and fuck up her plans again.” He ignored the harsh bark of laughter from the spirit as he started crawling away, hoping to make it back to Circus Baby’s before Cassie made good on her threat.

She was way scarier when mad than Six could ever be.

.

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

.

“You cut it close~,” Cassie sang out with a teasing smile as Gregory tumbled out of the vent and rubbed his head.

“Sorry, I tried to get the cover back on and I guess I bent it out of shape too much,” he told her with a sheepish laugh, getting to his feet. She hummed, squinting at him suspiciously before shrugging.

“Yeah, you are weirdly strong for your size,” she agreed and pointed towards the games corner, “So now that we have the camera, do we take it over to the security puppet like you did last time?” He nodded, walking beside her as they made their way across the pizzeria to the games room and prize counter.

Gregory glanced around to track where everyone was in the dining area. Circus Baby was performing on stage, holding her hands up to make a heart shape for the kids cheering up at her while she danced. Miss Corbett was walking from table to table, checking in on families and her waitstaff to make sure everything was going well. Alex was hanging out near the door that led to the back offices and rooms, scanning the room sternly until he spotted Gregory. He raised a hand in greeting and Gregory waved back to reassure the guy that everything was fine and there was no need to investigate him messing around with the ventilation tunnel.

They reached the counter and waited their turn behind a group of teens who spent their pool of tickets on a badminton set and water pistols. Once they hurried off in a cloud of giggles, Gregory and Cassie stepped up with her digging the camera out of her backpack while he gave the puppet his usual glare of annoyance. She pulled it free and held it up, but the puppet made no movement, only stared down at Gregory unblinkingly.

“Why’s it not working?” Cassie asked in confusion, looking between the puppet and the camera, “Did we get the wrong thing?”

Gregory frowned, pulling his attention to her, then to the camera. Why wasn’t the puppet reacting? This was definitely something from Mr. Schmidt; Six said so. The puppet reacted to the nametag, so why...?

He blinked, looking at the camera in Cassie’s hands again. “Huh,” he muttered. Did it only matter if he was the one holding the stuff? “Here, give me the camera,” he said, “Let’s see if it works if I show it the camera.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Cassie said in a dubious tone, turning the camera over to him, “The puppet acts weird for you only, so why not be double weird when it’s not you? Where the heck did the owner of this place buy this thing from anyway?”

Gregory shrugged, taking the camera in his hands and then holding it up for the puppet to see. He tried not to think about the way his skin crawled holding it, a wrongness in the way he was treating the thing. Was there even a certain way he should? It was just a camera, why was it such a big deal?

The puppet immediately reacted once it saw the camera in Gregory’s hands, raising a finger to point at the Egg Baby again. He glared in frustration, huffing as he turned to walk over to the animatronic.

“Huh, so same as last time,” Cassie said thoughtfully, “The puppet and the Egg Baby.. they’re both programmed to react to Mr. Schmidt’s things, but only if you’re the one holding those things. So there’s a connection between you, Mr. Schmidt, and the person who programmed these animatronics, right?” She squinted her eyes at him as Gregory shrugged again, a faintly disturbed expression on his face.

“If there is one, I don’t remember what it is. Amnesia sure is convenient like that,” he griped, “The guy only had two kids, Mr. Fitzgerald and this old lady named Faith, and they didn’t recognize me as anybody different.” Gregory blinked as he remembered the sad look on the old woman’s face as she hummed a song that had put him so on edge he didn’t know if he was going to run away screaming or start throwing things at anything that moved near him. “..I think,” he amended uncertainly, “A lot of the grown ups connected to Mr. Schmidt are just weird, but I guess that’s cuz of all the crap they had to deal with.”

The Egg Baby’s eyes swept back and forth as usual until the two kids approached, the camera still in Gregory’s hands. It halted its gaze, locked onto Gregory’s face to run the familiar scanning sweep, then dropped the light down to the camera to do the same. The same soft whirring began to sound from the Egg Baby’s belly and the kids stepped back to give space for the smaller baby to push out the red capsule and pop open the lid.

“Are you gonna get another piece of old tech again?” Cassie asked dryly, blinking as the lid clicked open to reveal another heavy hard drive resting on the cushion.

“Two,” Gregory said quietly, reaching down to pick it up and mindful of the old cables wrapping around its case protectively.

“Guess that answers that question,” Cassie sighed, “What even is in these things? Did you check that first one you got some time back?”

“Yeah, animatronic programming,” he replied, looking between the two old pieces of technology in his arms, “I guess this one will have more. Huh. Mr. Schmidt was supposed to watch over the original Freddy Fazbear and friends when he worked at Freddy’s, so am I supposed to rebuild them with these?”

“Uh, how? You’re just a kid,” Cassie pointed out as they left the prize area to go back to their booth and wait for their respective guardians to pick them up, “I mean, yeah, you’re an Afton, but that really doesn’t make up for being a kid with, like, no money and also little.”

“Hey, I’m taller than you!” Gregory protested weakly, pouting as she just scoffed and gave him a teasing smirk.

“Barely,” she countered and sat back in the booth, pulling out her phone to text her grandmother, “Anyway, if those drives are of the original Freddy and friends, then do they belong to Afton Robotics? Since they bought Fredbear’s Diner and all their properties, like the old animatronics, y’know?”

“Mine now. Finders, keepers and all that shit,” Gregory told her with a tired grin. Vanessa and Sydney would be showing up since he only could stay at Circus Baby’s for a few hours to hang out with Cassie while they scouted the Pizzaplex for a good entry point. Freddy wanted to join them when they did the break-in, volunteering to help disable the other Glamrocks so that Vanessa and Sydney could get their chips using their higher level security badges. Mr. Fitzgerald wanted him and his friends to join in to get to whatever servers were in the building for more information about Afton’s plans, so they were probably going to have to figure out how to work around and with each other.

Meanwhile, Gregory was just trying to wrap his head around all these secrets and things that seemed to be tangling around him when all he wanted to do was just be happy with his family and maybe fix what he broke to make up for it.

“Might as well work on homework until my grandma and your mom shows up,” Cassie decided, pulling out a workbook from her backpack, “Did you bring yours?” She frowned at Gregory’s guilty expression, giving him a lidded glare back. “And then you wonder why our homeroom teacher is always on your case,” she sighed.

.

---------

.

In the safety of his own room, with Freddy looking over his shoulder with a strangely solemn air, Gregory connected the drive to his own computer, a refurbished setup Alex gave him to use for his coding practice so he’d stop borrowing the burner laptop. Animatronic programming filled the screen as he dug through the files, picking out names and identifying markers.

“Bonnie,” he read aloud, looking up at the sharp gasp Freddy uttered. The animatronic bear looked heartbroken, ears drooping as his newly rounded shoulders dropped, making him look wilted.

“Ah, Bonnie, a name I dearly hold of someone I miss very, very much,” he murmured in a low voice, “I confess that I hope our search of the Pizzaplex to rescue the Glamrocks would also lead us to find out what happened to Glamrock Bonnie.”

“No harm in trying, I guess,” Gregory offered with a small smile. It would be nice to find Freddy’s friend. Anytime he mentioned rabbits or looked at something that was related to the rabbit painted on the upper level of the atrium, Freddy always looked miserable. Glamrock Bonnie must have meant something special to him. He turned back to the screen and studied the lines of code carefully, frowning a little at the familiar writing.

He knew these commands somehow, this buried coding that was nested in deep and seemed to be gripping onto the software like a parasite. And above that was another set of programming blocks that was organized in a particular pattern, a different syntax from the base personality, the weird additions that were like Freddy’s code, and a broken security patch that seemed to be controlled by that parasitic code. It was all the same as what was in the drive for Chica.

“I’m gonna have to do a lot of fixing to bring these guys back,” Gregory sighed. More sleepless nights then.

He flexed his fingers to loosen them up, then bent to work.

[sagemoderocklee]

Hello, I hope you’re feeling well :).

I just wanted to have your opinion about Temari x Shikamaru? I love the way you write about them. I think Kishimoto would be jealous lol.

I also cannot wait for your updates, especially for “The Art of Love”. Please take care!

^///^ thank you so much anon! for the compliment and the well wishes!

all updates are currently only being done through my fundraising campaign for Palestinian families, but if you would like to see TAoL updated, that IS one of the fics that can be sponsored! The next chapter of TAoL is estimated at around 15k words for a total of $60USD in donations, which do not have to be all one person donating! I hope you'll consider donating to help families!

i absolutely LOVE ShikaTema and i love writing them into all my fics, even when they are barely there. their relationship had so much potential and then boruto ruined it.

kishimoto's problem--and thus Naruto's (and Boruto's) problem--will always be misogyny. i love all the girls (minus hinata), but no matter how bad ass or fun he makes them, they always suffer under misogyny (including Hinata), and so do their relationships--especially the romantic ones.

and this is getting extremely rambly so more under the cut

i think shikamaru and temari suffer more in boruto than in classic or Shippuden--i'd even go so far as to say that relationship suffers the most out of all the ones presented to us because the building blocks in Naruto/Shippuden never supported what Boruto delivered--but i cant speak broadly on that since i refuse to engage with boruto beyond some old silly jokes about metal looking like gaara. i do know through just hearing about it that temari gets the like the shrill, overbearing wife treatment, and obviously she went from being an active duty shinobi to being a housewife, which is so insulting.

if anything, shikamaru should be the stay at home parent. temari should continue her diplomacy work, she should not have just up and left her village for good, and she shouldn't be treated like an overbearing wife.

my preference is to always have Temari and Shikamaru split their time in Suna and Konoha. Shikamaru might ultimately end up being a stay-at-home dad but i do think he still wouldn't abandon his duties as the head of his clan. he'd have a proxy for when he's not in Konoha, but they'd still need to report to him regularly while he's in Suna, and he could always be recalled back to Konoha for big issues within the clan. i think at a certain point he does retire from being a shinobi to focus on the kids, while still being willing to be like a consultant for strategy if need be

but ultimately i think Shikamaru is just a wife guy. i think that's what was being set up for us. Shikamaru being this dumb pre-teen kid who thought girls were gross and was falling into these misogynistic ideas, only to have his world view rocked by Temari. i think she's the catalyst for his growth but not the sole reason for it. i think it was just like the women around him on a daily basis and his own just like growth as a person, but he needed someone to come in to put the first chink in the armor, so to speak. Temari was someone he didn't really know or have any notions about beyond her being a girl and what that meant to a 12 year old boy.

once she proved to defy his expectations and also challenge him, i think that's where he starts to grow.

i think temari and shikamaru's relationship has to be built on equity, respect, and understanding, which kishimoto and anyone else writing these relationships don't grasp.

one thing that should have been emphasized more, imo, is that Temari is on par with Shikamaru. i think she's a genius too, but she's not as lazy and bored by the world as he is, and i think that challenges him. i think she's interesting to him because she's his equal, and often times his better. like she pushes him. he's a lazy mf, but he's brilliant; she's brilliant AND not a lazy mf. she's driven, she's passionate, she's funny, she's playful, she's a lil mean sometimes but has a big heart...

like deadass shikamaru should WORSHIP the ground she walks on. he should be so in love with her, but he always keeps it close to the chest. he's not like tryna play it cool he's just like that. it's not like he's scared or even embarrassed, i just think he's reserved in how he shows that to he world, which works well cause i dont think temari is publicly very lovey-dovey either.

i think temari is just as in love with him--again equity and so on--but i do think she also has other priorities like her career. i think shikamaru could give a rat's ass about being a shinobi and the only thing he really cares about related to shinobi work is his teammates and his clan, but that's still all wrapped up in duty. temari is his choice. which i think is something that anyone from a clan really would be drawn to--clans are about duty, shinobi life is about duty. but loving someone outside of the clan, choosing who you marry--that's choice and that's freeing.

i think temari is freedom for shikamaru, and she needs freedom from him. he's not overbearing. he's not insecure. he's willing to do shit a lotta other guys wouldn't do--like be a stay-at-home dad. and he loves her without reservation and without expectation. i think for temari, expectation is the root of all evil.

she's the daughter of the 4th Kazekage, people expect things from her because of that. she's a shinobi--a kunoichi--a woman, so people expect certain things from her because of that.

get married. retire early. have kids. can't be too ambitious. not allowed on the council. so on and so on.

all these gendered expectations of her from the world around her, but not from Shikamaru.

like obviously he does wanna marry her and have kids, but it's not a demand. he never expects her to do anything she doesn't wanna do. and it's not like she doesnt want kids. she absolutely wants to get married and have a family, but she also wants her ambition. her career. her passion. she wants to change the world alongside Gaara, not sit idly by while the men in her life do and do and do.

shikamaru gives her that. she defied expectations because she didn't marry a man from Wind, she didn't retire, she's having kids who'll have dual loyalties which means from the council's pov her children aren't viable heirs to the Kazekage title, she retains all of her ambitions and passions and keeps fighting for the equity of women in the shinobi world.

Shikamaru is for Temari, what she is for him. he challenges her as much as she challenges him; he gives her what she needs from a partner, as much as she gives him what he needs. emotionally, mentally, and physically they both challenge the other, support the other, and understand the other.

they just make a good team. they make each other stronger and smarter and better, and they make each other happy.

anyways, this is all really rambly. not feelin that great today so i hope this rambling mess is fun to read!

thanks for the ask and for reading my fics <3

[lya-dustin]

A Comedy of Non-mathematical Errors

Chapter 2

Michael is not allowed to keep most of his clothing after mummy dearest looked over his current wardrobe.

She had looked faint when he explained the practicality of his favorite cargo pants that turned into cargo shorts thanks to the nifty zippers. Even better he’d gotten them on sale.

“We will donate all your old clothes to charity.” The blonde woman had said only letting him keep his underwear and a handful of things that passed her inspection.

He was not at all surprised to know by charity Elspeth meant the garbage can.

But she did like how clean and organized he was and told Felix that was the right way to keep one’s room.

“Should we do something about his hair, mum?” Venetia asks, looking at him as if he were her personal Ken doll. She’d picked out some of his clothes, made him get a suit that matched a dress she was going to wear ---and made him and Felix buy two matching outfits.

Now she wants to cut his hair.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” he dares to ask. If you ask him its pretty great, especially because he did it himself.

“Nothing, sweetheart.” His mother said and yet he is dragged to a high-end barber shop despite his protests. “Felix, make sure your brother gets a nice haircut that doesn’t look like a blind man with blunted shears did it.”

Ouch.

“You’ll be fine with just a trim, Mikey.” Felix says with a smile that makes Michael wince at the nickname as harmless as it is. But the trip to the barber is a relief compared to the endless shopping of yesterday with Elspeth and Venetia.

Michael is given a luxury spa treatment along with Felix who has the same preferences as him despite the difference in socioeconomic statuses.

“I invited Ollie home for the summer, felt so bad for not telling him about us being brothers and his dad dying, I told him he could come visit us.” Felix attempts to be friends were all cut short by Michael who wasn’t sure how to even go from there.

Apparently, Sir James enjoyed Countdown, Venetia wanted to pursue fashion, Elspeth had a DPhil in Art History and spent her life collecting art while Felix attempts to write a novel because if someone is going to write the Cattons in this generation it must be one of them.

Despite their vapid ways, Michael supposed not everyone who acts like an airhead may actually be an airhead. A tough thing to incorporate into your world view when you’ve spent the school year seeing Felix and Farleigh with the same copy of Harry Potter pretending to read. Once they’d even held the book upside down.

“Your mum told me about it, yeah. Does he know what happened?” Michael hopes his ditzy twin brother completely forgot.

“Fuck. I can’t remember.” Maybe Felix was a real ditz, the way they talked about the Catton heir being a genius, his parents must’ve feared leaving everything in his hands. But his stupidity makes this all easier.

“After he tossed me off to hang out with you at the pub, I told him we weren’t friends anymore.” Because he is an opportunistic bootlicking cunt.

The more he learned about Oliver Quick the more he sounded like a fucking psychopath. What’s next dressing up as his mum? Killing any girl Felix talks to?

“Oh, he’d said you had already left. I only talked to him so he could invite you to join us. I liked your shirt, have one like it, just can’t find it in the mess.” Felix sits by his open window to smoke ---Michael detests the smell--- and gave a small laugh as he mentions his pigsty of a room.

“Actually, he pretended not to see me when I came back,” Michael isn’t even surprised Poor Dear Ollie had lied about that too. “Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t know I’m here.”

Michael’s terrible at talking or persuasion, and yet, it doesn’t take much to convince Felix to make his presence here a surprise.

Saltburn is nice, a touch gaudy and weird, but other than that the place looks fine.

His room is across Felix’s with Venetia next door and a guest room for a friend on the other side of the luxury bathroom that was bigger than his old bedroom.

“Mum has a fear of ugly things, I wouldn’t wear these if I were you.” Venetia plucks his glasses off his face and Michael swats at her blindly trying to get them back. He only succeeds accidentally grabbing her nose before giving up

“See how handsome you look? You look like Uncle Micah.” The bleached blonde girl shows him his own mirror to tell him so.

“Can’t fucking see, Venetia.” He points out and squints at his own reflection trying to see if she was being honest and not flattering him out of pity.

Plenty of people loved telling him he could look great if he tried. He’s pretty sure he looks like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo right now and tells his younger sister so.

“Mum’s fine with the glasses, its piercings she doesn’t like.” Felix easily takes the glasses out of Venetia’s hands and carefully puts them back on Michael’s face. “Voila.”

“What do you think, Mike?” they ask when he gets a good look at himself.

And sure, enough he looks like someone who could get any girl or invite he desired. Michael Gavey was gone; Michael Catton had taken his place.

Oliver is going to regret dropping him for Felix.

[gottagetshiver]

Ok here's the Shane lore form my Stardew fic no one asked for. It's an excerpt from the fic itself, in the form of a flashback/Shane telling his story to the farmer:

The first day of high school is universally difficult, that’s simply the way of things. However, they’re much more difficult when you step into those daunting halls without someone, anyone by your side. 

No friends, no acquaintances, nothing. Freshly out of a moving van unloading in a new part of the city and right into the lion’s den. 

Shane’s first week is a nightmare. Of course, he tries to connect with his peers, but it’s difficult. Kids are mean, and they notice his ratty clothes and uneven haircut a mile away. After a couple days, it’s easier to simply not try to make friends. Don’t try to get close to them, and don’t let them get close to him. 

That is, until one boy sits next to him in math class. 

“Hey!” the boy chirps, bumping his shoulder into Shane’s as though they’re old buddies, “I’ve heard this teacher is really easy, I’m so pumped. I suck at math, I’d probably fail otherwise. I still might fail, actually.”

Shane hums, trying to not engage too much. His shoulders are pinched up by his ears, his lower lip is worried between his teeth, and he just wants to go back to being invisible. This, being seen, is not safe. 

“Are you any good at it?” the kid asks. “Math?”

Shane chances a look at him, and sees no hostility or trickery in the boy’s face. Cautiously, he nods.

“Cool!” the boy whoops, earning them a warning glare from the teacher. “I’m Riley, and you’re going to make sure I don’t fail.”

Riley holds out his hand to shake, and just like that they’re inseparable.

Shane and Riley do everything together, from homework to the gridball team tryouts to movie nights. 

It’s Riley’s house Shane ends up at when his dad flies into a rage, and it’s Riley’s floor he sleeps on for weeks at a time when his own bed isn't safe.

Riley’s there when Shane’s mom leaves one morning and never returns, and Shane’s there when Riley gets sick. 

It starts small, with Riley seeming confused at first, answering questions Shane doesn’t hear or tracking things with his eyes that Shane doesn’t see. It’s concerning, of course, but when Shane either calls his name or pokes him on the shoulder he snaps out of it. It’s fine. They’re fine. After all, they have each other and that’s all they’ve ever needed to get by. 

It becomes less fine when Riley crawls through Shane’s bedroom window at three in the morning, frantic as he desperately explains that people are following him. That there are people reading his thoughts and following him and oh Yoba Shane, they’re going to get him. They’re out to get him and he didn’t know what else to do other than come seek out the security of his best friend.

Shane doesn’t know what to do either, so he does what he can. 

He very slowly, and with so much terror he thinks his heart may give out at the ripe old age of sixteen, walks Riley twenty three blocks to the hospital in the dark. 

The following weeks are torment. Riley’s parents are neglectful at best, fully absent at worst, and Shane takes it upon himself to be the stability his friend needs in his life right now. He picks up his homework from the school and does it on Riley’s behalf, brings him whatever he needs from home, and spends every visiting hour in the hospital with him. 

When the diagnosis finally comes in, Shane’s the one double and triple checking that Riley takes his medications properly. He’s the one to fill all the doctors appointments and support group meetings into the calendar, and he’s the one to drive Riley there. 

A friendship forged in fire, Riley had called it once he started doing a little better. They’d be bonded for life now. Shane thinks that arrangement suits him just fine, it’s not like he has other friends anyways. 

When Riley turns eighteen with only three months left of high school, he ages out of his care team and the standard of his treatment promptly drops to the depths of hell. 

Suddenly Shane finds himself not only scheduling appointments, but in them and furiously advocating for Riley’s care, or lack thereof. He’s monitoring and documenting all the horrible side effects he’s having, only for the doctors to shrug and tell him that’s just how it’s going to be. 

He’s the one tracking his friend down by piecing together nonsensical texts; like clues from a midnight scavenger hunt and scraping Riley out of a gutter. 

He’s the one that ends up defending his best friend from the system that fails him. 

After writing a lot of letters begging for help, Shane gets Riley accepted into a specialised clinic. It’s not perfect, far from it, but at least they seem to care when Riley reports having debilitating side effects or when the medications stop working as well as they had been.

By some miracle, Riley is stable and well enough to graduate high school by the time summer rolls around, and even gets into a small, local university. 

Shane doesn’t think twice about throwing out all his acceptance letters other than the one to that school. Sure, he could have gone somewhere more prestigious, but without Riley? Not happening. They’re forged in fire, after all. Where one goes, the other follows. 

Being out on their own in university brings a whole new side of life to light for them; girls. Not that they hadn’t been interested in high school, they had been, but with Riley’s illness coming on they hadn’t had the time or energy to devote to a relationship. 

Now, though, Shane is in a new girl’s bed every weekend. It never means anything, he never lets it, and he can’t get enough. He’s grown into himself and he sees the girls looking, and it’s nice. It’s a far cry from the last time he walked into unfamiliar halls of a new school. He’ll take the trade-in of bullying to bedding any day.

Riley takes a different approach to it all, though. He meets one girl during their second semester, and that’s it. 

“I’m telling you, man,” Riley sighs, laying spread eagle on the floor of their shared dorm room, “she’s the one, I just know it.”

“If you say so,” Shane replies, wrinkling his nose as he inspects the latest series of hickies on his neck and shoulder. He’s really going to have to ask next week’s girl to go easy with the teeth, too many marks lead to too many questions. 

Time is flying in school, Shane and Riley’s life has finally begun and they have no interest in slowing it down.

Only three months after they graduate with their bachelor’s degrees, Shane is both the best man and the maid of honour at Riley and Anna’s wedding. At the reception, he enters wearing half of a tuxedo and half of one of the bridesmaids dressed, much to everyone’s delight. 

Six months after that, when they’re all living in a shitty apartment together as they seek out jobs in their new fields, Shane’s the first one to be told about Anna’s pregnancy. 

Seven months after that, he’s outside a delivery room, pacing the hall as Jas comes into the world. 

An hour after that, she’s in his arms and he’s gasping out a ‘yes’ between sobs and just like that, he’s her godfather. 

Three months after that, the word cancer gets nervously mentioned for the first time while sitting at the dinner table. 

Six months after that, he holds a screaming Jas all dressed in black in the hallway of a funeral home while Riley says his final goodbyes to his wife.

Suddenly Shane wishes time would not only slow down, but stop and reverse. He’d give everything to go back and just have one more day. One more hour of dancing around trying to make Jas laugh as she first learned how. One more dinner at that greasy diner on the corner, the one the three of them frequented until Anna started to feel sick at the smell of it during her pregnancy. 

One more day in their dorm, all snuggled up on a twin sized bed that barely fit one of them, let alone three, watching terrible movies until the sun rose. 

Just... more. Shane wished for more. Cancer at twenty five is a cruel, horrible thing. Cancer at twenty five and leaving behind an infant? Shane vows that if he exists, Yoba will have to beg mercy from him when it’s his time to go. 

Yet slowly, life goes on. Somehow, it goes on. 

Shane and Riley move in together, into a new place without the grief woven into its walls, and they try to live. Jas grows, and so does Riley. 

Shane doesn’t. 

No, instead Shane slowly falls into his mind. Slowly finds it harder to climb back out.

Slowly, until it’s fast. 

He’s somewhere. Driving, as he often does overnight now. He and Riley share a car, and he likes to make sure Riley has access to it during the days so he can take Jas out. She’s three now, and she adores the park. The kid is determined to master the monkey bars and it’s the cutest shit Shane has ever seen. 

However, driving is one of the only things that soothes Shane’s racing thoughts, so he does it when he can. 

It’s been a week since he could go for a proper drive. Jas has been sick, and keeping him and Riley busy, not that Shane would complain. That kid means the world to him, after all. He wants to be there for her if she’s sick. He wants to be there at any point if she needs him. 

His demons are strong though, and he needs a drive. 

At two in the morning, a text comes through from Riley.

Riley:

Home soon?

Shane ignores it. No, he won’t be home soon, not if he can help it. He’s having a particularly difficult time outrunning his thoughts tonight; he needs to take this to the mountains. 

Up to the lookout over the city. No people, no cell service, no railing at the drop off. 

He wouldn’t actually do it, but it’s tempting sometimes. When his demons get too hard to outrun in a car, the idea of outrunning them in a freefall can be an intriguing one.

Riley though, and Jas. He could never do that to them. 

He stays at the lookout until four. 

As soon as he gets back in range of the cell towers, his phone explodes and his demons crash down around him. 

The mugger had chosen him because of Jas. 

“He had his kid,” he’d said, “I figured he wouldn’t put up a fight.”

Jas still had a fever, and without the car and with Shane gone and out of reach, Riley had set off to carry Jas to the twenty-four hour pharmacy for more children's tylenol. Shane had given her their last dose before she went to bed and they’d figured she’d be okay until the morning. Seems not. 

The guy had thought Riley was reaching for a gun in his back pocket as opposed to the wallet he said he was grabbing, choosing to shoot first and ask later. 

Now Shane paces a sterile interrogation room at the police station with a wailing Jas in his arms, still with a burning fever and now very, very traumatised. 

It doesn’t fully hit Shane until hours later, once he’s putting his last signature on the paperwork, that he now has a kid. All those years ago, agreeing to be her godfather, this is why. 

He looks down at Jas, asleep in his lap with her thumb in her mouth and her cheeks still too flushed for his comfort, and fuck. She’s his kid now. His responsibility, and his alone. 

They move again, though this time it’s not to outrun grief, but born from necessity. Shane doesn’t make enough to afford to stay in the place he and Riley had been renting. He doesn’t even make enough to stay in the same neighbourhood. 

All in all, Shane and Jas move three times in the following two years. Each time somewhere cheaper, and by the end Shane is sleeping on the sofa so Jas can have her own room. He’s treading water financially for now, but he can’t maintain it much longer. He’s slowly sinking. 

When Jas turns five, Shane breaks. He digs through his phone for a number he’d saved as a teenager, thinking he’d never need it again. How wrong he was. 

It’s late, well past the acceptable hours to call someone, but she picks up. That's what she said, wasn't it? She’d always pick up when he needed her. 

“Marnie,” Shane rasps, feeling like that scared and abandoned fourteen year old again, sitting in her guest room crying himself to sleep after being dumped there for weeks at a time by his parents, “I need help.”

Shane packs up their place over the next few days and by the weekend, he has Jas on a bus out to Pelican Town. She’s having a great time watching the mountains roll by as they leave the city behind them, and that works for Shane right now. 

Over these last two years he’s slowly felt himself fading away. He’s always there for Jas, always, but in the small moments he has for himself he finds he no longer knows who he is. 

He’s been living for too long crippled by trauma and grief, too needed by Riley and then Jas to have any time to heal. Now, with the cracks in his soul running as deep as they are, he thinks perhaps healing isn’t a possibility for him anymore. 

Jas takes to the ranch like a fish to water, and once she’s in bed on the first night Marnie pulls him into a hug nearly tight enough to fuse the broken pieces of him back together. 

Nearly, but not quite. 

Because after she lets go, Shane walks himself into town, up the saloon stairs, and tries to drown those demons once and for all.

If he’s going to sink, they’re coming with him. 

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not wanting to go on a walk and then telling the truth?

📚⛷️ for later

I (14f) am currently on vacation in the Alps skiing. For context, I have two younger brothers (12 and 6). What my family usually does is ski in the morning, have lunch, and then either ski some more or play board games together in the afternoon. Before, we used to go on walks in the afternoon but we stopped once we started getting better at skiing and got tired faster.

My mum loves to go on walks and regularly goes out. For the past few years she usually goes on walks in the morning when the rest of the family is out skiing as she has an injury that prevents her from skiing. Today I went with her as I am also injured lol.

My brothers and I do not like to go on walks. We’re very vocal about it, I do enjoy walking in the city (where I live) however and we all play a lot of sports so health is not an issue. This morning I decided to go with her and we went on an hour-long walk (It was snowing and the ground was very muddy, and my injury is worse when I breathe hard). She seemed upset that it wasn’t longer but she is the one who insisted that we go home.

This afternoon she drags everyone out on another walk. My dad and brothers were clearly exhausted (it was their first day and we had a 13-hour drive to come here) but my dad was a good sport and we all went out.

So now we’re all out walking and we keep the complaints to a minimum; obviously my youngest brother wasn’t very good at it but he sensed the tone of the walk and wasn’t too bad. After about an hour there comes a split in the path ; one continues straight and one goes directly up a very steep hill. My mom asked us what we wanted to do and none of us replied; I don’t know what my brothers did but I just looked at my dad. My mom then got very mad and said “Let’s just go home, you never want to do stuff like this” I argued that I hadn’t said anything, but apparently she could see it in my eyes.

While we walk back she was very mad still and kept complaining about how we never want to do stuff that she likes (sidenote: this summer we went on a 3-week long road trip where we went to Yosemite, the Grand Canyon, Sequoia National park, Death Valley, and Sedona; it was very walk/hike-heavy and it was largely because of her that we went). This is where I think I might be the asshole: at some point I got angry as well and said that she knows very well that we do stuff like this all the time, and why force us to do something that she knows that we’re not going to like? She has been giving me the silent treatment ever since.

Another sidenote since I’m trying to give all possible information: we always come to the same place since before I could walk, but always in winter. Mom been talking about how she wants to come here in summer a lot recently and is trying to sell it to us by saying how pretty it is and how many walks we could do.

Last piece of extra information: My mom had walked the entire valley that were in right now and back and least three times over the years ; the path was definitely nothing that she hadn’t seen before.

My brothers and I are staying in the same room at the moment so she came to say goodnight to the youngest only (this is not the right post for favoritism so I’m not going to go into that) and right before she left she looked at me and 12-year-old brother and just said that she knows that we don’t love her. I find this really childish and an immature way to deal with this.

Thank you for all the help

What are these acronyms?

[look-at-the-soul]

Look at the soul -Part 7 Lady in red

Cillian Murphy x OC

Series Master list (Bonus photos in the end)

I wanted to post this part so so bad… @heidimoreton THANK YOU for creating the perfect moodboard for this chapter, you really can’t imagine how much it means to me, I treasure this image so close to my heart ♥️ you captured the essence perfectly and the fact that you decided to create this for me is beyond words, from the bottom of my heart! I can’t thank you enough for taking the time and creativity to make this beauty! These women, the quotes, the butterfly 🦋, the Hollywood vanity everything is breathtaking !

And we have two new characters @shelbydelrey @imichelle-l-rigby thank you for your constant support through this and other stories 💖🥰 it means so so much

Song Lady in red- by Chris De Burgh

Cillian needed so bad this walk, to clear his head. He had to leave rehearsals early that day because his in-laws decided to show up in his house unannounced to have dinner with the kids and were scandalized to learn he was working in a play and he wasn’t at home, the kids arrived a few minutes earlier than their aunt, but their grandparents were already there and not very pleased when he arrived almost an hour later.

That dinner left him a bitter taste and frustrated so the fresh air was the only thing keeping him from punching something. Andrew decided to play video games with their neighbors.

“Why was grandma so serious? She looked pissed.” Ben’s voice brought him back to present time.

“Well, it’s no secret they never liked the idea of me being an actor and the consequences of it.” Cillian knew his son was old enough to understand things better.

“Like what?”

“Like… being away for months while filming.”

Ben looked up at his father. “But you’re always around someway.”

He was relieved to learn his son didn’t have an image an absent father of him. “I know buddy, that’s why you don’t have to worry about it.”

Despite the differences he might have with his in-laws, he didn’t want them to look at his late wife’s parents differently, he wanted to help them being close to their relatives.

“When you go on tour with the play, who will watch us?”

Cillian handed his son Scout’s leash before hiding his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He still needed to sort that out.

“I’ll come and go as much as I can, probably my mum or your aunts the days I can’t make it.”

“And we can go on the weekends!”

“I’d love that.” Cillian smiled thinking how many times his sons had joined him while working away.

“Can you ask Heidi about the theater school?” Ben wanted to know, those plans were canceled due to his mother’s passing.

“I’ll, although I’m sure she will open her course once we finish the dates for the play.”

“I hope she does! Do you think she will make me go through the casting and all?” His eyes were wide open, the wind blowing his fringe.

Cillian chuckled. “What makes you think you don’t have to do the casting? Ey?” He ruffled his hair with one hand.

“Because you know her!” Ben rolled his eyes.

“Actually I’ll ask her to be tougher with you, no special treatment.” He laughed and whistled Scout to go back home.

Ben looked down, debating whenever to ask or not his father. “Dad… how did you and mum meet?”

Cillian felt like getting stabbed. Like the air was taken away from him. It was a strange sensation and something he didn’t feel he’d ever get used to.

“In high school.” He answered after taking control again. “We started studying together, then we got into college and eventually we got married.”

Looking up, he found the sky, Cillian found it was pretty dark and quiet now, the stars shining down at them and moon illuminating their way back home.

“Do you remember when Ma woke us all up and it was a holiday?”

He could swear his heart did a little flip inside his chest. The memories flowing like a wave.

“And we got you and your brother dressed in record time, only realized it was a holiday until we reached the school’s steps and it was closed.” Cillian swore he skipped so many red lights that day, trying to get the boys on time.

He felt like he was failing at keeping their mother’s memory alive, some days his own memories with his late wife seemed to be fading away.

***

“There’s my girl!” Enda wrapped an arm around her shoulders to show her acrylic mirror finally, her image would be projected from afar and it would break with the visual and sound effects, he was just making a demonstration with the remote. “So you won’t have seven years of bad luck.”

Marianne smiled pleased. “Love it!”

“And your image will be in the background too divided in two columns, when the mirror breaks, so will your image giving the sensation that the pieces will be flying to the public.” He explained excited.

She could totally picture the scene in her mind.

“Thank you for making my dream come true.” Enda gave her a hug. And it made her feel so emotional, that’s what she always wanted, to help someone else chase their dreams.

“Enda you’re going to terrified poor Marianne.” Cillian walked on stage to join them.

“If she didn’t ran off when you approached her with that homeless look, nothing will scare her.” Enda teased back, making both Marianne and Cillian laugh.

“Can you do that again?” She pointed at the remote, “so Cill can see it.”

“This is better than I thought.” Heidi had seen it from one of the seats and it was incredible, she was pleased with her work and the final result.

Cillian snatched the remote from his friend’s hand and pressed the button several times. Enda rushed to get it back before he could mess it up.

After making a few more switches in the scenography, they finally started working on the rehearsal of the day. But the cast couldn’t do much, since Enda had been making a few changes in the script so Marianne decided to sit on top of the bar to be able to take notes.

“If you had plans for today, you’ll have to cancel, rehearsal is about to get long.” Cillian admitted leaning against the bar. He offered her some of his spicy almonds passing on the bag.

“Homework and comparing equipment for the changes you want to make in the recording studio count as plans?”

“Well that’s much better than washing my kid’s smelly laundry and walking my dog. You can join me.” He got back his snack.

“To wash smelly teens clothes? No thanks, a walk with the dog sounds better tho.” She had seen photos of the black lab in his phone, he was lovely.

Snatching the sheets from her hands he asked; “what’s this?”

“Hey!” She protested out loud, Enda looked at them over the edge of his glasses. “I’m writing the corrections he’s making.” She added now in a low voice.

Cillian asked for the pen she was holding with his hand extended. “Here, you need to make a pause, take a deep breath before you connect with this.” He added a mark on the script.

Marianne admitted she was struggling to keep up with Enda because he was talking so fast for her. So instead of helping her, Cillian started talking in Irish just for fun to which she responded in Spanish and neither of them understood the other and they ended up chuckling.

“The only thing in Irish I know is eejit*, Lee shouted at someone who almost hit us with the car once.”

“In Spanish I only know hola and this thing they yell in the stadiums, ehhh pu…” she tried to keep him quiet, interrupting him.

“Don’t say that!”

Cillian laughed.

Enda looked at them again.

Holding the script in his hand, Cillian gave Marianne a little hit in the leg. “You should really pay attention.” He was trying hard to hold his laugh. Then, he shook his head trying to make evident she was the one messing around.

“You started laughing.” Marianne shot him a look of faked indignation.

“Sorry about these undisciplined foreigners.” Cillian shook his head and crossed his arms against his chest.

One of the girls from the cast that got in the play just because Enda owned her father a favor, tried to walk out from the theater pushing a door that had a huge sign that indicated they needed to pull, making some noise in the process. Cillian particularly didn’t like her, she was always showing off the luxury brands she wore with huge designer names all over her.

“And that’s why shampoo has instructions written down.”

Cillian laughed really loud this time by Marianne’s sarcastic comment.

“I didn’t know we had children among the cast.” Enda tried to keep the order.

Marianne took the opportunity to give Cillian a taste of his own medicine. “Sorry Enda, these locals are noisy.”

It was amazing to see how comfortable they were feeling, it surely made things easier.

“What’s this?” Lee asked walking into Marianne’s dressing room after the rehearsal leaning forward to take a better look at the images.

“Like a collage, Cillian suggested it could help me to build the character, I’ve been adding elements I think would be a good fit for Adria.”

Lee nodded, thinking it was a good idea. She found images of Adele, Audrey Hepburn, Julianne Moore, Elizabeth Taylor, a woman reflecting in a broken piece of mirror, quotes. Even a napkin with a kiss printed in a red lipstick with the letter A and an x handwritten.

“Adria is flirty, I like that.” Lee gave Marianne the thumbs up as Isa knocked on the door.

“Are we ready?” Isa was all smiles as she placed a huge and heavy make up case on the vanity.

“Don’t you dare start the fun without me.” Michelle arrived with the hair tools.

Marianne took a deep breath, feeling both excited and nervous about the outcome, but she knew Isa and Michelle were experts in their fields, the best in theater and films, they had worked in so many plays and created endless characters, they knew what they were doing.

“I heard the dress is ready, make yourself at home while I bring it.” She offered a box of snacks she kept in her dressing room and wandered to the theater’s entrance where they left the dress, covered from curious eyes. She thanked the woman at the box office and made her way back to her dressing room, greeting whoever she found in her way, during the last days these people had been her chosen family. Honestly the entire cast was a joy to have around, she had been learning a lot from everyone both personally and professionally.

Lee, Michelle and Isa left the dressing room a moment to allow Marianne to get changed.

The nerves suddenly appeared as she came to the realization of what was about to happen. The red dress was intimidating, beautiful, yes, the fabric was soft and the design was the ultimate dream. But she was about to step in something bigger than her.

She was about to transform finally into the amazing character, looking around she found the photos she had in her mirror of the women that provided some kind of inspiration for her. She was taking bits of each one to create something unique, strong, a breathtaking woman that was about to take the stage in a few weeks to tell her story.

Isa and Michelle requested strictly to not look into the mirror until she had makeup and hair done, so she was nervously smoothing down the fabric of the skirt as the girls walked back in.

“Is about to get noisy here.” Michelle stated as she took the hairdryer, she wanted to go for a mix between Lana del Rey and Adele’s curls, the hairstyle had such a glamorous vibe, and according to her, Marianne’s face shape was similar so it would fit just right.

“Relax, I’m going to pamper your skin first.” Isa covered the dress with a towel to avoid any stain.

Marianne looked at the ceiling as they started to work around. “I feel so spoiled, like a movie star.”

Lee snapped a candid photo of the process, of course she couldn’t post anything online, but she would blurry it for fun. “Well, you are a theater star.”

Marianne chuckled, still not believing how her life could be completely different to what she had planned originally.

To be completely honest, this wasn’t work or a job, with the amount of fun she had at every rehearsal, it felt more like a blessing. Like that very moment, Lee made sure to find the right songs in her playlist to make every minute seem like they were in a karaoke. Until Isa and Michelle shared a look in silence and took a step back, both lost for words.

“What?”

“Oh shit.” Lee mumbled, storming out to go and find Enda.

“No, don’t look yet.” Warned Michelle taking away the towel.

Isa squealed, it was impossible to hide her grin.

“Gurls, you’re scaring me.” Marianne tried to read their facial expressions, but she didn’t know what to think.

She stood from the chair, still not turning around to see herself, but there was definitely something different. It was so hard to explain, but slowly she could feel as if Adria was coming to life.

“Let me re touch the lipstick.” Isa focused in the bright color she picked and gave her the thumbs up. “Are you ready?”

Slowly she turned around, feeling how even her pose was different, her shoulders back, long neck on display. She never noticed the girls left the dressing room, to go and look for everyone.

And as she found herself in the mirror, her heart skipped a beat and a chill ran down her body. But she wasn’t looking at herself… it was Adria staring back at her.

“Are you sur-” Cillian knocked and rushed inside the dressing room, but his words where cut as the air escaped his lungs when he found Marianne transformed into her character for the play.

Time stopped and for a few seconds or maybe minutes, they stared at each other through the reflection in the mirror.

A heavy silence filled the small room as time stopped.

“Wow.” Cillian stammered taking in everything; the hair, the dress, make up, everything was perfect. She was. “You look stunning.”

This was the exact same woman he envisioned as Adria.

Marianne Adria turned around slowly and stared into his eyes, holding his gaze, something as herself she never dared to do because she found it so intimidating.

“Thank you.” She dragged her words slowly, tilting her head slightly.

They were both in silence, holding the other’s gaze. Saying only with their eyes so many things, keeping others to themselves.

The first encounter couldn’t have been any other way.

He knew she was kind, he caught her offering her lunch to a homeless man outside the theater since they started rehearsals, without telling anyone she just did it. He enjoyed a lot that she treated him like a normal person and not like a celebrity, and apart from that, he couldn’t deny that she was beautiful, but she didn’t seem to show it off, it was a natural charm of her personality, she was always well dressed and she liked to keep an effortlessly look.

Cillian cleared his throat. “I’m the narrator of this story and I’m at your feet, may I introduce you to the rest of the cast?” He made a little bow with his head in the end, as he held his hand out for her.

I've never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight,

I've never seen you shine so bright,

She smiled and he knew he was screwed. Any man who crossed paths with her would.

Adria touched him and it felt as if he was being given electroshocks.

And I have never seen that dress you're wearing,

Or the highlights in your hair that catch your eyes,

I have been blind;

It was like Marianne stepped back from her, this woman walked with a security as if she owned the entire world, shoulders back, slow stride, head held up. Making everyone she walked past turn their heads to give her one more look.

Edna’s mouth was hanging open as he saw her walking on stage from backstage. This was so much better than he ever imagined… a dream. As he saw her walking with her hand linked to Cillian’s arm, he was lost for words.

Isa and Michelle smiled pleased with their work, judging by everyone’s reaction, they totally nailed it.

“This is gorgeous.” Enda praised once more, making Marianne blush. “I’m going to get a heart attack.” He added dramatically.

“What’s all the fuss about?” Heidi appeared from one of the row seats. “Unbelievable. Are you kidding me?”

It was a bit uncomfortable and overwhelming after a few minutes to see them staring back at her with such intensity and little words.

“My job is done here, I can’t take it anymore.” Enda gave up defeated moving along the stage.

Cillian talked to someone from the lights department and asked Lee to join him. “If you don’t mind me asking, Adria… can we take a couple of shoots for the promo?”

I've never seen you looking so gorgeous as you did tonight,

I've never seen you shine so bright, you were amazing,

I've never seen so many people want to be there by your side,

Marianne frowned for a second, startled. Then she placed a hand on her hip again in character raising her eyebrow. “Of course a photo wouldn’t even do me justice, you can keep it in your wallet.” She smiled.

And when you turned to me and smiled, it took my breath away

If you could blend Audrey Hepburn’s innocence with Marylin Monroe’s devours-men look and Elizabeth Taylor intimidating gaze Adria would be the result.

Cillian felt like someone punched him in the gut and rushed to help Lee with the lights, it was a blessing that she took a photography course, she was a great support and it helped a lot the confidence they’ve been building lately as it is key to achieve what he had envisioned.

He had a dream outside the theater one night where he was walking and as he looked up the marquee, he found a huge poster of Adria divided half of her face like the defeated character with the look of disappointment as she went through all her troubles… while the other half was the made of the strong and brave woman completely transformed, when he shared that vision with Enda he was clapping even before he could finish, excited by the way it sounded.

The broken glass was set in the huge background, the lights on stage down, there was only one illuminating her from behind, Cillian captured that shot, it wouldn’t probably be used for the promo, but he loved the way it looked, then he walked around Adria and brought the camera up to his face adjusting the lens he requested her to look down and then slowly look straight to the camera.

She took her time, just like she always did, but when she finally looked at him through the lens of the camera… Cillian knew that she was the type of women that not only turns heads, but turns souls as well.

****

Next part

A/N: *remember the characters you see is not a reflection of them in real life… if you support me, your name will appear here or in another series ☺️

Eejit is Irish word for idiot, hola is hello and the ehhh up, don’t ask and don’t say it with someone from Latin America around 😂

Here are some photos in which I took inspiration to come up of the idea of Cillian taking the photo for the play:

And some of the faces that inspired Adria’s character:

Tag list: @lyarr24 @gypsy-girl-08 @cillmequick @zablife @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @kettlechips3 @heidimoreton @forbidden-forest-witch @kaitebugg03 @thenattitude @forgottenpeakywriter @onlydeadcells @babaohhhriley @lonelyweeb0044 @lovemissyhoneybee @ange-thoughts @already-broken144 @shelbydelrey @cutecurly-hair @winchestergirl22 @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @lespendy @kittycatcait219 @stevie75 @esposadomd @sloanexx @shaddixlife @rangerelik @peakyscillian @woofgocows @cillianlove @imichelle-l-rigby @emmanuelle19 @sydneyyyya (can’t tag) @cljordan-imperium @mrkdvidal1989 @flippittygibbitts @adaydreamaway08 @so-she-reads

[earth-93]

BRIGADE FILES: HULK (Part 1)

Stars & Stripes Hotline [Version 1.14]

C: \login\Nowhere_Man

C:\Users\mini\BrigadeFiles\Avengers

Directory of C: \BrigadeFiles\Avengers

04/27/2006 11: 43 AM Total Files Listed: 16 File(s) 538, 687 bytes

Directory of C:\BrigadeFiles\Avengers\BANNER_BRUCE.txt

[file data =

Main Alias/Moniker: Hulk

Legal Name: Dr. Bruce Robert Banner

Other Aliases: Doc, Big Guy, Hulkster, Greenfoot, Jade Jaws, Green Giant, Shrek

Date of Birth: May 19th, 1975 (Age: 30)

Status: Alive

Species: Human Mutate (Gamma Mutate)

Sex: Male

Gender: Cisgender

Height/Weight: [Bruce] 5'8'' (173cm) / 125 lbs (57kg); [Hulk] 7' - 8'5'' (2 - 2.5m) / 1,150 - 4,000 lbs (680 - 1,815kg)

Hair/Eye Color: [Bruce] Brown / Brown; [Hulk] Black / Green

Timeline (1975 - 1985): My past with Bruce aside, I don't think you need me to tell you that most of what's been written about the Hulk is bull. Nothing but conspiracy rags that make parsing the fact from the fiction even harder (If I were a more paranoid type, I'd say it's on purpose. I wouldn't put it past Ross or SHIELD to keep the public on their toes about Bruce, no matter how much good press he gets. I'm just as biased as any other guy, but I'm biased in the sense that I was just some kid that a so-called monster tried to help. Do with that what you will.

Bruce has said that his earliest memory was being pulled out from a car wreck by his dad during a rainy night. Brian Banner went back to get his wife, but by then the car had sunk so deep into the muddy earth that he couldn't find the strength to pull her out. That moment was totally where Old Man Banner's obsession with strength first came from. Once the media got a hold of the Hulk's identity, a lot of those write-ups loved to embellish Bruce's childhood. Don't get it twisted, Brian Banner wasn't the Devil, but he was a mean sonuvabitch. He would at least have his stepmom Rebecca in his life, once the Banners moved to New Mexico. To this day, Bruce still thinks of her fondly.

Brian himself was almost never home, instead toiling away at his gig at Desert State. See, Brian Banner was a physician with a specialty in glands. After he failed to pull his first wife out of that wreck, he became fixated on the theory of "hysterical strength." You know those stories you hear about moms being able to lift whole cars to save their babies? No scientist has ever been able to square away how and why that happens, but Old Man Banner was hellbent on being the one to crack it. When the higher-ups are Desert State shot down his research, he decided to keep going at home.

Timeline (1985 - 1991): To this day, Bruce has never said what really went down that night. As far as I know, his mind just blocked it out. I have my theories, but if I'm resorting to speculation I'm no better than one of those rag pieces. All I know for sure is what was put on the police report: The morning after a nasty storm, authorities swept through the Banner household smashed up, Rebecca beaten to death, and Bruce left in a shock in the same room as the body. A few days later, Brian was found in the middle of the desert, naked and hysterical. He was charged with murdering Rebecca and was given life.

Another misconception about Bruce is that his anger issues only came about once he went green. What he went through, that's where it all started, and you don't even have to trust me on that. His aunt and uncle would back me up, since they were the ones who took Bruce in. Back then, Bruce was unresponsive, quick to anger, and would throw a fit if he ever felt cornered or too agitated. He wasn't too responsive to treatment at first, either. What turned it all around for Bruce was his cousin, Jen. She was born a year before his aunt and uncle took him in, and even though they did their best with him, they had understandable worries about Bruce being around Jen. He says this is what first made him try to take treatment seriously. Earning that trust from his aunt and uncle. To this day, the two see each other more as siblings than cousins.

He put a lid on his anger issues, but Bruce's social skills never really picked up. His brains, though, they never seemed to stop growing. So when he got an in at the Tomorrow Academy across the country, his aunt and uncle couldn't see a downside. I have my theories Ross had his eye on Bruce all the way back then because of who his old man was, but I can't back that claim--yet. Even if I can't make a direct connection, Ross still definitely had his finger on the place. That meant having an extended stay in New York, and his kid popping in the Academy from time to time. That's how Bruce first met Betty. In spite of himself, Bruce managed to strike something up with Betty, and they kept in you well after the Academy's shutdown. Even when Bruce had any school in the world to nab his PhD, he went with NJIT so he would be closer to Betty. Neither of them could have imagined this would seal Bruce's fate.

Timeline (1991 - 1998): Betty was in Jersey because she was one of the first recruits for the newly-minted SHIELD Comm School. She wanted to keep up the family military tradition by getting into spy work, but even back then she was a sleuth at heart. Case in point, when she and Bruce got close enough he started opening up about his past, Betty couldn't just leave it be. I don't know if it was empathy to help Bruce get closure, or just a fixation on solving a mystery. Whatever it was, Betty put together an investigation on what Brian was researching before he killed Rebecca and showed it to Bruce.

In turn, a switch went off in Bruce when he poured over his old man's work in hysterical strength. Like father, like son, Bruce became obsessed with finishing his old man's work to tap into the hidden strengths that all humans have. SHIELD was either desperate, or Bruce made one heckuva pitch, because in no time at all a new Super-Solider project was in the works. The ink on Bruce's pHd wasn't even dry before a base in the desert was installed to further explore his theories.

Call it trauma, shame, fear, or even some lingering loyalty to the powers that victimized him, but Bruce has never come clean about what went down at Project Gamma. From what I personally know, their experiments went well past any ethical boundaries. A young man looking for some closer was quickly finding things spinning out of his control, that's a lot on your conscience. And that all came crashing down on that one fateful day, when an internal sabotage caused a radiation leak, then a breakout of its test subjects—helped by a big, green giant barrelling through the walls and security for them.

continue data? y/n]

[as-above-rp]

"Don't chase the rabbit" / for Kairi.

Send me "Don't chase the rabbit" and your muse will be shown a random memory from my muse's past.

A voice calls out to Gabe in whispers overlapping, all around him;

'Ah, a new plaything stumbling into my lair? How refreshing. You have the smell of another on you. Someone you hold in high regard. But she has secrets. Would you like to know one?'

A hand reaches out of the shadows, all black and cloaked in smoke, and grabs the front of his face.

'Sleep. And you will dream of a secret. What you do with the knowledge is no concern of mine. I seek only to watch the chaos that unfolds after~'

Gabe's vision would fade, and he would find himself as a first person captive in someone else's memory...

[CW; MENTIONS OF CHILD ABUSE, FAMILIAL LOSS, HOSPITALS]

.........

......

...

Kairi's body felt heavy all over. It had felt like concrete ever since she woke up in the hospital, with her head and feet being the heaviest of all. The back of her head throbbed from the raised swelling, the stitches holding together the skin that had split from being slammed into the wall a week prior. Everything hurt so much that she had grown completely numb; she didn't even cry when the doctor's came to tell her that her mother had called to deliver the news that her father had passed away. It was just like her mother to not even bother delivering the news in person.

Himeno, Kairi's mother, treated everyone around her like playthings and messengers--mere servants to do her bidding. She didn't lift a finger when Kairi's dad became bed ridden--Kairi had done everything! From administering his medicine to cleaning him up and helping him change, to feeding him--she only left his side to use the restroom herself, or when she was pulled aside for private tutoring. She dropped out of her private middle school to take care of her father before her mother would even consider taking less hours at work. Kairi was happy to take care of her father; but it shouldn't have been her burden alone.

But thanks to her mother, Kairi had missed even being by his side in his final moments.

Her mother had come in while Kairi was administering the treatments that they had both worked on together; a possible cure for their hereditary heart disease. It was his passion, and Kairi had picked up the torch as soon as she was old enough to hold a beaker. But her mother, materialistic and narcissistic as always, saw Kairi injecting the solution into his IV and accused her of trying to kill him. She flew into a rage, saying Kairi was trying to prevent him from meeting with their lawyer to finalize his will. She pleaded with her mother to listen, but she wouldn't hear a word of it. She chased Kairi out of the room with murder in her eyes, fire magic crackling in her hands. Kairi tried to flee, but her mother caught up to her quickly; she was grabbed by the throat and slammed into the wall, splitting a nasty gash in the back of her head. By the time she had gotten herself up off the floor, there were dancing orange and gold lights outside.The last thing she remembered before blacking out, was seeing her father's greenhouse and all his research up in flames.

Now, Kairi was on her way home after the worst week of her young life. Her mother had only come up to the hospital to sign the release forms and take her home. In the 10 days she had spent recovering in the hospital, her mother didn't visit once. And the whole way home, she was griping at her daughter;

"You look like a skeleton. What did they feed you in there? You better not have forgotten to watch your calories while you were being doted on like a spoiled brat."

Kairi just stared down at her hands in her lap, her voice quiet and meek. "Yes, ma'am."

"As soon as you get home, you need to shower and help Millie pack up your father's things." She glanced to Kairi, golden eyes sharp and scrutinizing. "God, your hair is a trainwreck. Did they really have to shave that much off to stitch you up? Honestly, it wasn't even that bad. Did you tell them you had a competition in a week?"

"...no, ma'am." I was unconscious from you slamming my head into a wall, she wanted to say. But Kairi held her tongue--she knew better.

Her mother clicked her tongue in disappointment. "Of course you didn't. Anything to try and get out of the one thing you and I do together. Well we've already paid all the fees and bought your dress. We'll just have to do something else about your hair..."

Her mother's voice became white noise as Kairi looked outside the window. Her looks were one of the few things Himeno took pride in when it came to her daughter; Kairi had bright hazel eyes the color of warm ocean waters, and freckles from head to toe. Her hair was the color of wheat, shiny, thick and healthy hanging down to the middle of her back. She was the spitting image of her father, down to her nose. The only physicality she had of her mother was her strength and her curves, but her diet was strict so that she didn't get too plump in the wrong places. Kairi didn't inherit any of her mother's Oni traits; no horn, no red skin, no golden eyes. Her mother always said it was a good thing. Macro men didn't like women who looked like demons, she would say. Kairi could care less.

When they got home, Millie was waiting for them on the front steps. She greeted Kairi with a warm smile and an eager hello. Kairi tried to muster a hello in kind, but she could barely even manage the faintest curl of her lips into a forced smile. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the charred frames of their greenhouse leaning around the side of the house. Kairi didn't dare look at it.

Her mother walked right past her, but stopped to glare at Kairi after she'd stepped inside. "Are you listening to me? I said go take your shower. NOW."

"...Yes, ma'am."

Her mother rolled her eyes and turned her back to them, pulling out her phone. As she disappeared down a hallway, Millie leaned down to speak to Kairi.

"Miss Kairi do you need any help washing your hair? I don't imagine you should be getting the stitches wet."

Kairi shook her head. She had been surrounded by strangers, noise, and potent smells for 10 days. She just wanted some time alone.

"Alright. I'll be in your father's room getting things ready. If you need anything, just come and find me."

With a nod, Millie left to go upstairs. Kairi stood alone in the foyer, slowly looking around. She was in fact home...but it didn't feel like a home anymore. It felt just as sterile and lifeless as the hospital. There were no smells of hot oil, or seafood, or spices anymore. The plants here were expensive fakes. It was warm, but not in a welcoming and cozy way; warm in the same way a sauna or a gym felt--suffocating and sticky. She would have almost preferred the freezing cold of her hospital room.

Eventually, Kairi made her way over to the stairs leading up to the second floor. She dared not to move too quickly, lest she be hit with another fainting spell and end up passed out at the bottom of the steps. She passed the reading room, her own bedroom, and stopped in front of the bathroom door. The next door down was the spare room her father had been using when he was on bedrest--her mother had him moved there when the equipment 'kept her from getting any sleep'. Kairi forced herself to turn back to the bathroom door and step inside. She undressed from the tshirt and sweats her mother had brought for her to change into, and passed the sink to turn on the shower...but she stopped when she caught a reflection of herself in the mirror. She really did look like her father; sunken eyes and tired bags, a paleness to her already fair skin. She reached up to feel the back of her head, running her fingers over the stitches and soft buzzed hair around it. It was rather large, a 4 inch split with 14 stitches holding everything together, and an extra inch and a half shaved around the whole thing. Trying to style her hair to cover it would be tedious, but doable with how long it was...

And then, an idea hit her. An impulsive one. Kairi looked at the top drawer on the left side of the sink. She stared at it for a few seconds before opening it up. Slender fingers reached in and pulled out the electric razor she had been using to fix her father's hair when we was too weak to go out to get it cut. She remembered the first time she tried to use it on him, when she left a large bald spot on the top of his head. She was mortified, but he just laughed and made a joke about always wanting to see how he'd look as one of the Three Stooges. The memory made her smile a little, and tears sting in her eyes.

Kairi sniffled, and looked back at her tired reflection in the mirror. She could see her father in the wet reflection of her own hazel eyes, the same color as his, putting a hand on her shoulder for encouragement. She turned on the razor, the blades whirring to life. Taking a deep breath, and keeping one hand over her stitches to protect them, she made the first swipe down the middle of her head.

[missmouse25]

Personal rant below the cut. Honestly i might prefer it if you didnt read. You can like and scroll

Ive actually been very quiet about whats been happening in my life and with my family the past three months. I just need to get this off of my chest and then delete it. Because i cant keep taking on my family’s pain and not dealing with my own.

Towards the end of october last year my grandfather was hospitalized due to health issues regarding his legs. He was due to see a specialist here in my hometown early next year. So the plan was that we were going to go to them for Christmas and then bring them back with us for the new year. He was in and out of hospital for two weeks before a doctor finally told him that he needed to see the specialist asap. So on a Tuesday in the middle of November they drove him in an ambulance from East London to George, saw the specialist and scheduled for surgery the next day. While he was having surgery on that Wednesday, my dad went to fetch my Gran. For a week he was in hospital while my gran stayed with us. Luckily, my gran is still very independent and mobile at the age of 84. From the hospital, my grandad was moved to a step down facility where he stayed for two weeks. (This was all while mom and i were prepping for a dance show that we’d committed to in the beginning of the year, which came off the first weekend of December).

After the two weeks at step down, Pops joined us at home. It was a lot of adjusting for us all as he can only walk with the aid of a walker and not very far. Due to his issues, he had a wound on the back of his leg which he needed to see a wound sister at least once a week for treatment. He’d been home for about a week and the wound sister said he needed to be admitted to hospital again for better treatment.

Another week over Christmas in hospital and then he was back with us. But he’s stubborn. He’s old. He’s in pain. The best way to relief the pain and swelling is to exercise but the exercise causes more pain. Right before new years his legs gave way from under him two nights in a row and thank goodness for my dad because he can keep a calm head and knows how to help because of his profession.

The past week has been horrible. Pops spends his days hunched over rubbing his knees trying to find any kind of pain relief. My mother is at her wits end. My poor gran has been washing him, taking care of him. And i’ve been here. Not able to do anything. Yes i’m able to make life “easier” by being a pair of hands or a set of legs but i cant really help him. And it hurts me to see him like that - to the point i dont even want to be in his company because thats not the man i remember from my childhood. But the guilt of not spending time with him and my gran eats at me constantly.

They’re probably going back home next week and my mom has just told me that Pops has agreed to go to a step down facility in east london. It’ll be so much better for both him and my gran (and my aunts who now have to take over responsibility of them).

Its been tough. While writing this, i’ve finally cried after feeling like I’ve needed to for at least a week now but just haven’t been able to. And it feels so bad to want my space back, my house back, my independence back. My friends have been making plans to see everyone and i just cant bring myself to go out and leave my family behind. Besides i know that if they ask me what i’ve been doing or how I’ve been, i’m either going to break down or not be able to answer honestly.

I love my grandparents, I really do. But i cant keep myself together anymore

Maybe next after next week, things will be ok again. I just have to make it till then