#my dad just works in a primary care office but he's already started doing the decontamination thing every time he gets home

[mjrtaurus]

Really obsessed with Modern AU Urpi having some silly delinquent past rn.

Like imagine one day the kids come home from school, Iva and Kuma tagging along as they usually do, and obviously they have to stay for dinner. During dinner the table is filled with chatter about work and assignments and the kids start talking about current research projects.

Kuma chose to look through some older newspaper for a good topic and mentioned benignly that he saw Urpi in an older article. Nobody really bats an eye at that, she doesn’t have the best stall in the farmers market for almost two decades with some local acknowledgement but Kuma clarifies that it wasn’t that but doesn’t expand on it either.

“I’m sorry I just didn’t want to make a wrong assumption.”

“Sweetheart I won’t be offended by any means, don’t be scared to ask and be wrong! As long as you accept the answer I don’t see the problem in an assumption.”

“Okay. Mrs Urpi, were you by any chance part of a motorcycle gang?”

A beat passes as utensils hover over plates. Urpi blinks in surprise before responds much too nonchalantly.

“Yes, I was.”

The table erupts in gasps and one lone baritone chuckle from Garp. Dadan has her hands covering her mouth, Kuzan's chill unaffected persona melts away and Dragon's eyes threaten to pop right out of his skull. Iva was smiling harder than anyone had ever seen them.

Urpi looked at the children confused before realization took over. “Have I never told you guys?”

Dadan looked around incredulously “Um I think we would have remembered you being in a motorcycle gang!”

“Well technically I wasn’t just in one, I founded it when I was…16 I believe.”

“You were the founder? So the blonde girl on the dragon head helmet was you?”

“BLONDE?!?”

Iva, sowing of chaos that they are, immediately jumped in.

“Loved your hairstyle by the way. Not everyone can pull off box dye blonde and a half shaven look so well.”

“Thank you dear, my parents were furious at the time but they came around eventually.”

“How’d they take the news about your little extracurricular activities?”

“Surprisingly well! My dad always said you get one big screwup as a kid and to them this was mine. Still, they got my motorcycle license revoked and threatened to send me to Alaska every once in a while but that was it really.”

Urpi got so lost in the memories she didn’t even notice the stares from her children, they looked at her as if they had never seen her before.

“WHO ARE YOU?!?!?!”

“A stone-cold badass!” Is immediately what Garp would say, grinning ear to ear. And Urpi would wave a hand at him like she’s shooing him away.

This is extra funny if Dragon has already entered his rebellious little shithead phase where he’s making his court assigned parole officer gray prematurely. He’s realizing that the reason his mom has always been so understanding and approachable whenever he fucks up is because she was the same way.

He comes by it naturally, apparently.

Iva had always had their suspicions. Garp rolled with the punches too easy to have much of a rebellious bone in his body. Plenty of stubborn ones, though. They are so, so excited to hear more of her.

Kuma is listening with rapt attention, always eager to learn from the elders who truly cared. He may or may not ask for permission to get an audio recording of this so he can take notes for the report on this newspaper article. He just had to convince his teachers that she was a genuine primary resource. How exciting!

Meanwhile Kuzan and Dadan are stunned, but on the edge of their seats, just ready for her to spill more of those beans.

But then, from Garp’s side of the room:

“I still remember when we first met! She pulled a knife and took a few swings at me! Cut me up pretty good, too!”

“SHE WHAT?!”

Urpi looks at him with a coy smile.

[theluxuriansecret]

Diary Entry 04152024

9:19 pm

Dear Diary,

I feel so fat, ugly, sick and disgusting. I am back to 160lbs and I am disappointed in myself. I have so much time to work out, and yet I doom scroll. I am stuck and stagnant but I know I can be doing so much better. I did the one thing I didn't want to do, I let the happiness get to me. Tomorrow I have no excuses. My job is no longer exhausting me and this is the last week where I get to kinda glide through and not have any of my own assignments. So, I have to find a way to get myself into it this week. I think the worst part is that I haven't partaken in any of my hobbies. I kinda find myself in that weird stage of again, scrolling my life away. I feel really anxious about it because there are things I really want to do and I am letting the days fleet into oblivion. I want more for myself so I will be doing more.

I have many mixed feelings, I hate that I can't put my phone down. I hate how I feel about my friends. My relationship with my dad has shifted and its strange, I hate living at home, but I couldn't move out even if I wanted to, I want to make future plans with my boyfriend, I feel fat, I hate how fucking horny I am all the time. I want more for myself. I told myself this would be the week I start my routine and yet I am still doing the last minute bullshit I've been doing, and I fucking hate it.

I do not have plans for graduation pictures yet, I don't even have a dress!!! Truly that's one of the biggest routes of my stress because I don't want anyone else to take my photos, but I also need him to be honest about if he can even take mine. I NEED to be the one to bring it up too because obviously my pictures are not a priority, and they shouldn't be. But it's the fact that I am so fucking over undergrad and it keeps rearing its disgusting head back into my life. I worked my ass off to get away from it and here it is, still in the way. I am going to have to take off work to graduate college, like how stupid is that.

ALSO.. I feel also a little bothered by the fact that my boyfriend hung up the phone with me to take a video of the sunset and then didn't call me back like.. why haven't you called me back? I know I am over thinking but when I am stressed about one thing, I stress about 20 other things and become overwhelmed. It's truly one of my fatal character flaws.

Today, I also ate like shit. I haven't eaten like shit in a long ass time. Not only did I eat like shit, I also just ate a lot. Like started the day off with egg salad, then I attempted to eat this spicy ramen that was way too fucking spicy, which made me drink milk. I added yellow rice to try to mellow out the spiciness of my ramen but that really didn't help, so I gave up on it. For dinner, I ate more yellow rice and three fried chicken wings, two drums and a flat. Finished off with an ice cream sandwich. BTW I have a cavity that has been bothering me for weeks. But my fucking dentist went and moved and the office was rebranded, still a dentist, just not the one who takes my insurance.

Why are services only open during working hours requiring you to take off so that you can use them. Why should I have to lose money so that I can spend money to have services I need done. Also, I still haven't found a PCP (primary care provider). I hate this adulting thing a lot. I am scared that I am not going to be a good adult because there are already so many things I do not do on my own or lack.

I try to convince myself I'll be fine, but then I remember I plan on sharing my life with someone who is so competent and capable of living on their own, they got the CHANCE to live on their own, will I ever? It doesn't seem likely.

[queenwinry]

so a group of my classmates are trying to band together and get our school to do the early graduation thing that some of the northeastern med schools are doing and I feel like I'm on a crash course for having perpetually intractable anxiety 

[amysubmits]

My dad and I walk into his primary care office. The receptionist is busy. My dad sits down. I stay waiting to sign him in. Once she has time to look up, I start to tell her my dad’s name and appointment time “I know who you guys are” she smiles and waves towards the chairs, telling me I can sit down. 

This starts me thinking about how she ‘knows’ me. Not in the literal sense. 

This is the only doctors office in town. I’ve come here almost my whole life. Half my family sees this same doctor. I think this receptionist has worked here my whole life....she’s been here as long as I can remember, anyway. This is a small town. So of course she “knows me” in a way.

As we wait, there’s two men with a tractor wrapping the street lights with Christmas lights. Thanksgiving just passed, so it’s officially Christmas season. I was in this same waiting room last year when they decorated for Christmas. I’ve spent too much time in waiting rooms these last few years. 

The receptionist knows I’m here for my dad. That’s who she knows me to be these days. The woman who is always accompanying her father to his appointments. 

At first I think about how the ‘me’ she knows is false. Then I reconsider. It’s not false, really - it’s just incomplete. 

This “role” that I’ve assumed the last few years is me, and it isn’t. It’s me because this is what I feel is right to be doing right now. I feel strongly that this is the right thing for me to be doing. CD agrees, too. Yet, in a certain perspective, it’s taken a lot away from CD and I. We’ve sacrificed a lot...some of it is less time together, and for a while it was a lot less privacy. But most of all, it’s emotional energy. It feels like it takes a little bit away from who we are even during the easier phases - during the chaotic ones, it turns us into robots who are just trying to get through each day.  

Our D/s thrives most when we are focused quite a lot on each other, and when we don’t shy away from emotional labor. That’s our favorite versions of ourselves....the ones who are able to be focused and present in our D/s very regularly. When I’m not able to focus on CD or prioritize our intentional dynamic as much as I’d like, I miss it, and I miss myself, almost? I miss that version of me. 

A while back we had added in a couple of new daily rules. I had said something to CD about how it felt nice to have more rules again. He asked why, and I wasn’t able to explain very well in the moment. I think it’s got a lot to do with my mental presence. Having to remember multiple things to do each day for our D/s helps keep my mind on our dynamic, which requires more thoughtfulness/presence and assists my headspace. It isn’t always practical, though. 

When it’s not, I’m grateful to have a partner who shares so many important values with me, and a dominant who understands that our dynamic has to be flexible to survive the real world. `It’s powerful and comforting to see us stretch and bend to accommodate the things that life throws at us while holding onto the things that matter most to us. 

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

This sat as a draft for over a year. 

This morning I was in the same waiting room, and I realized the Christmas decorations were already up. I wasn’t sitting in the waiting room when the town was decorated this year. It reminded me of this draft I wrote last year. I was visiting the PA today.  as I was waiting to checkout the doctor (the one who was my dads, and who is usually mine) came out of a patient room. “Hey! How are you??!” she said on spotting me. While she’s my doctor, she only reacts to seeing me because she saw me so much when assisting my dad. 

I’ve spent a lot less time in waiting rooms this year. I’m not the woman who accompanies her dad to doctors appointments anymore. I’m the woman who is - after many months - still figuring out what life looks like without my dad in it. It’s hard in a way that I couldn’t begin to put into words. I think it’s just one of those things you can’t understand until you’ve been there. And when someone’s been there - they get it, so you don’t need to explain. 

Anyway - despite that heavy loss, we’ve had a lot of really good things happen this year, too. We’ve had more time to focus on ourselves. We’ve both grown a lot. Lots of self-discovery and growth. The last paragraph from my original draft holds true in good times, too. 

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 129: Pangea

cw: mentions homophobic slurs

It was their day off.

Their one day when they didn't have to work and their five year old was at the muggle nursery school. They often cleaned and did laundry on days like these, but they always made a point of spending some quality time together. Harry had realized shortly after they'd adopted Cassie that it really hurt their relationship not to have time they set aside for just the two of them.

Today they were headed to get some ice cream and talking about the slumber party they were going to be hosting in a few days and all of the arrangements that had to be made when Harry's mobile started to ring.

Draco watched curiously as Harry pulled it out of his pocket, "Hello?"

"Yes, hi, is this Mr. Potter Malfoy?" a woman asked.

He glanced at Draco and put the phone on speaker, "Yes, this is Harry."

"Hi," the woman said again, "This is Linda in the school office. We're going to need you to come pick Cassie up."

"What? Why?" Draco asked before Harry could reply. "Is everything alright?"

"Sorry, I have you on speaker so my husband could hear you."

The woman chuckled and Draco looked ready to reach through the screen and strangle her. "Everything's fine. She just had a little disagreement with one of the other students and is pretty upset. The head mistress will have a chat with you when you get here."

"The head mistress!" Draco hissed.

Harry laid a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Thanks for calling us. We'll be right in." He hung up and braced himself for the inevitable.

(Read more below the cut)

"What happened?" Draco asked immediately.

He rolled his eyes and turned around to walk back to their house so they could drive to school, "You heard what I heard," he said. "I don't know any more than you."

"Yes but you went to Muggle primary school!" he protested, walking quicker. "You should have some idea-"

"I don't."

"Do you think it was accidental magic?" Draco asked.

He shook his head. "That was not the sound of a call about accidental magic."

"Then what do you think she was fight about?"

"Draco, there are a thousand things to fight about. Muggle children are just as unpredictable as wizarding children." He reached over and took Draco's hand, "She's only five, how much trouble could she be in?"

----------

When they arrived Cassie was over talking to a different adult and the headmistress waved them in.

She seemed happy enough so Harry let her be and followed the headmistress in, Draco all but vibrating with nervous energy behind him.

"Mr. and Mr. Potter-Malfoy, thank you for coming."

"Harry and Draco are fine," he said.

"What happened?" Draco asked quickly.

Harry glanced at him, "Sorry. We've just never been called in before. Is Cassie in trouble?"

"This afternoon, Cassie told a story to her classmates about how the continents got separated."

"Gaia," Draco nodded. "It's one of her favorites, she likes to hear about how life thrives no matter what."

Harry took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Right," Headmistress Blake replied, "and that's great. Storytelling improves communication skills and it's great for students to share like that."

"So why are we here?" Draco asked.

"Jacob told her that Gaia wasn't real, that the whole story was made up, and tried to tell her about Pangea."

"Pangea?" Harry asked incredulously. "How old is this kid?"

She chuckled, "His parents are geologists."

"Still!" Harry said, "That's pretty advanced for a five year old." Draco looked completely befuddled as though he had no idea what they were talking about. "But I still don't understand why we're here."

"I'm getting to it," she said. "She tried to tell him that it was just a story that her father told her."

Draco nodded, "Should we not tell her stories like that?" he asked, sounding panicked.

"Not at all," she said, giving him a warm smile in an obvious attempt to diffuse his anxiety. "But Jacob called you a liar and used a bit of derogatory language."

Harry's entire body froze, "Excuse me?" He'd been hoping that she'd be in Hogwarts by the time other kids were old enough to understand the implications of having two dads. It wasn't a big deal in the wizarding world, but it mattered in the muggle world still.

Headmistress Blake nodded, "She told him it wasn't nice to talk about people that way and insisted that Draco wasn't a liar. When Jacob doubled down on the slurs, she punched him."

"Good." Harry covered his mouth, "Sorry," he said quickly. "Sorry, it's just-"

"We have taught our daughter not to hit," Draco insisted, glaring at Harry. And while this was true, they had, it was only because Draco was already teaching her the words for jinxes that would be more effective. She was going to be a terror once she got her wand. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid that I don't understand what sorts of slurs you're referring to."

The headmistress rubbed her eyebrow uncomfortably, "He called you poofs and said that fags can't be trusted," she said and Draco's jaw dropped, his hand clenching Harry's so hard that Harry was afraid he'd need a healing spell cast when this was over. "Other students overheard and told Miss Murray after the fact."

"We taught her not to hit," he said, "But we've also taught her that it's important to stand up for what is right," Harry said. "It sounds like she tried to use her words first and then when that didn't work she used a different means available to her."

"But the next step should have been talking to her teacher, not punching another child."

Harry nodded, "I can understand why you'd-"

"Excuse me, Harry," his husband interrupted, "But I can't," Draco said bluntly. "And here's why; we are raising our daughter to be strong and independent because Salazar knows that women are not taken seriously in this world. Teaching her now that there is someone to help her when she is being verbally assaulted will not help her when she is grown."

"Mr. Potter-Malfoy, I understand what you're saying but-"

Draco shook his head, "With all due respect, there is no but. If her teacher didn't notice that another child was shouting bigoted slurs at her because she has two fathers then no one was coming to her rescue."

The headmistress squared her shoulders, "Cassie's being suspended for two weeks."

"What?" Draco spat.

"We cannot set a precedent that allows for violence to be the answer."

"And what is Jacob's punishment?" Draco demanded.

She blinked at him, "He's got a broken nose."

"Setting aside that his actions still deserve a punishment from a source of authority so he doesn't continue to grow into a bigoted prick, let's just say for the sake of argument," Draco said, voice sharp as nails, "that she'd gone over and told Miss Murray about what he'd said what would his punishment have been?"

"He would to apologize," she replied.

"What? Just said he was 'sorry'?" he asked incredulously. "That's it?"

She nodded, "Yes. He's only five."

He turned to look at Harry completely outraged, "This whole school can fuck off," Draco said, standing from his chair and pointing at Harry, "I told you this was a bad idea."

Harry winced, he had in fact said this was not a great plan, just not for this reason.

"We'll be taking our daughter home today and she will not be coming back," he said. "And we will be telling this story to anyone who will listen."

"Mr-" she started, looking taken aback, since Draco had always been the polite one of the two of them.

"Oh, don't even start with me," he growled. "I run a very successful design business and while I do not understand how most of the social media works, I have someone who I pay to do it and she and I have been friends for a long time. Get ready to lose any family that you have that has a conscience, you can become the place for all backwards bigots." He started toward the door and Harry stood up.

"We'll sue you for slander," she said.

He looked over at her, completely unimpressed, "It's only slander if it's not true."

"It'll be your word against ours," she replied.

A pale eyebrow rose, "Yes it will. Lucky for me that I've recorded this entire lovely exchange," he said, twirling a pen that the Weasleys sold at the joke shop that did just that. "Feel free to contact our solicitor about anything else."

And with that he swanned out of the office.

Harry stared at her for a long moment, "Maybe you should consider educating your parents and students." Then he followed Draco out.

Draco was already squatting next to Cassie, murmuring softly to her, "yes, well done, my darling," he said pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"He was really mean, papa," she murmured.

His husband nodded, "I know, love."

"Hey, bean," Harry said, ruffling Cassie's curls and bending over to kiss her temple. "Let's get out of here, yeah? Do you have all of your things?"

She held up her unicorn backpack and nodded.

Harry helped her get her backpack on and then they set off, each of them holding one of her hands.

Cassie chattered away about the rest of her day, not even mentioning her run in with Jacob again.

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

After they put Cassie to bed they came back downstairs and Harry collapsed onto Draco on the sofa, resting his head in his lap.

"Pansy says that story is spreading like wildfire."

"Really?" Harry asked.

Draco nodded.

"S'kinda sexy," he said.

Draco laughed, "Sorry?"

He shrugged a shoulder, "You getting all livid and protective. It was sexy."

His husband's fingers combed through his fringe, "I'll always fight for you, for her, and for us," he promised.

"I know," he replied. "You're a good man Draco Potter Malfoy."

"It's only going to get harder," Draco said.

"Maybe, but we'll look for a more inclusive nursery school-"

Draco shook his head, "I mean when she heads to Hogwarts."

"I don't think so. People don't care about a man marrying another man," he said.

"But they care about the savior marrying a death eater and then disappearing for almost a decade and a half." He sighed, "I just wanted her to start somewhere where my sins wouldn't burden her and here we ar-"

"Hey," Harry said, sitting up and stopping the words coming out of his mouth. "You are not a burden to her and our marriage isn't a sin that could ever burden her-"

"I didn't mean to imply that you-"

"Listen to me," Harry interrupted. "Draco, you are a good dad," he said as he cupped his cheeks in his palms. "You are a good husband and you are a good person. We are both lucky to have you."

"Harry," he murmured, eyes downcast.

"You are," he promised. "I love you and Cassie loves you. and we are so blessed to have you."

"I love you too," he said, "But this isn't the last bully-"

"I know," Harry assured. "And we'll always be here for her, yeah?

Draco took a deep breath before nodding. "Yes. You're right."

"Ooh," Harry replied, crawling over him and straddling his hips. "I love it when I get to be right."

His husband rolled his eyes, "Just kiss me already."

And of course Harry obliged him.

Life wasn't always easy or perfect but they always had each other and Cassie always had two dads who would go to the end of the earth for her.

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

Day 128: Snake | Day 130: Forfeit

[ruewrites]

Raising Them Right

AO3

WBT

Ships: Diavolo/Lucifer (minor near the end)

Word Count: 3960

Warnings: Abandonement, Self Deprication

A/N:  Here it is! So this is the second fic that was inspired from the one angst anon that wanted to know more about Asmo’s past relationships. I really had a wonderful time writing it, and I hope you guys enjoy!

Lucifer could still remember that day. It was clear in his mind and bit at him like a viper, slowly killing a part of him that was now long lost to time. He knew that Levi and Mammon remembered as well. Maybe Satan. But Asmo and the twins? Not so much. Regardless, he knew it had toyed with his brothers in various ways. Forcing different insecurities and means to cope down their throats. Honestly Lucifer didn’t even get away unscathed. 

Hurt and betrayal had bubbled up in his throat as he tore their room apart. Part of him was looking for an answer of sorts. A reason. But the bigger of him wanted destruction, wanted to erase them from their lives entirely. They chose to leave, so why should they have any memory of them? 

Lilith’s room was left untouched. Lucifer boarded up the door the best he could. This made his heart ache the most. He couldn’t focus too hard on what he was doing. It wouldn’t lead to good things. He needed to keep a steady composure for his brothers. They needed someone to look up to. Someone they could rely on. 

They had all packed up and left that night. The oldest three couldn’t bear to be in the house anymore. Satan hadn’t said anything, conflict swirling within his young mind. Asmo and the twins questioned their actions slightly.

“What if they come back looking for us?”

“Are we gonna go home soon Luci?”

“What if they miss us?”

It made the situation worse. It made Lucifer’s throat tighten and his eyes burn. How could he tell them that they weren’t even going back? That that place was no longer home? That they’d been abandoned? That was how Lucifer saw it, and he could feel that Mammon was just as bitter. His teeth were clenched, trying so hard not to snap at the little ones. They didn’t know any better, and Lucifer wished he could have protected them all from this reality. 

He was helpless.

They’d travelled around for a while, until they found a small motel with a vacancy. The older three had done the math. If they worked enough, they could stay here.. He wasn’t sure who called about them, but he wasn’t surprised. Who wouldn’t have been worried about seven children of varying ages wandering around alone on their own? Honestly, it was the responsible thing to do. Even if Lucifer hated admitting to it.

Ever since that day, Lucifer fought tooth and nail for his family. He refused to let anyone take his brothers away from him, refused to let them be torn apart any more than they already were. He’d heard everything. He was too young to effectively take care of them, that the little ones would be better off in more stable households. These conversations only succeeded in making Lucifer angrier. Eventually they reached a compromise. All seven of them would move in with a family, until further notice. 

Lucifer had agreed to this, but also took it as a challenge to get them their own place as soon as he could.

***********

Lucifer had gotten the call. He put himself down as the primary contact for all of his brothers, so he always knew what was going on with them. 

Deep breaths. In. And out. 

Getting angry at Mammon rarely got him anywhere. It was just frustrating. Mammon was smart  dammit! And he was a good kid deep down. Lucifer knew this, and it made it even worse every time he heard that Mammon had acted out once more. Lucifer had apologized to his professor multiple times about not being able to show up to class, and they understood, but it didn’t make the situation any better.

Lucifer got out of the car and started the routine he’d become so accustomed too. What could it be today? Acting out in class? Snatching something off of the teacher’s desk? Stealing from the cafeteria? Oh Lucifer could only imagine.

Greeting the ladies at the front desk, Lucifer was quickly ushered back to the principal's office. Mammon was hunched over in one of the chair’s, his hoodie obscuring his face.

Suspended.

For getting into a fight with another student.

It wasn’t  a long suspension, but Lucifer still didn’t exactly know how to feel about it. There was a tense silence in the car.It got to the point where Lucifer pulled off into a parking lot and shut his car off. Mammon sank down further in the car seat.

“Would you like to explain yourself?” Lucifer hoped his voice came out even, despite the twitching he felt in his lip. 

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“It wasn’t- Mammon you got suspended.”

More silence.

“Let me see.”

“Luc-”

“Let. Me. See.”

Mammon hesitated for a moment before pulling his hoodie down and looking over at Lucifer. He had a black eye. Lucifer put his head in his hands and Mammon quickly went on to try to explain himself.

“It wasn’t my fault! These guys came along n’ they were makin fun of Levi and were tryin to take his-”

“Levi?”

Lucifer’s head perked up as he looked at Mammon. His frustration slowly melted away as he listened to his brother with new interest.

“Yeah! These guys are normally jerks, but then they started goin at our family, and messing with Levi really bad.”

Lucifer was silent for a moment before starting the car. He was quiet for a few moments before speaking up, “Is there anything you want?”

“What?”

“You know I don’t reward bad behavior Mammon,” Lucifer started, “But I don’t think I consider what you did today bad behavior.”

Mammon blinked a few times before snorting, “You sound like a dad.”

“Don’t push it.”

“Aight aight…. Thanks Lucifer. I’ll think about it.”

***********

Levi had always loved his games, and he was good at them. The time he spent on them honestly had Lucifer concerned for his eyes. They made Levi happy and Lucifer could usually hear him talking about the lore behind them or the characters when he wasn’t talking about his favorite shows or manga.

Lucifer didn't understand any of it, he didn’t pretend to. Usually he couldn’t stop the confusion that spread across his face. Understanding what Levi was trying to understand quantum physics. But Levi didn’t seem to mind, he would continue to talk, excitement rising with each word that passed through his lips. Honestly, Lucifer was fine with anything that made him happy.

As long as his brothers were happy and safe, that was all that mattered.

So when he heard sniffling from Levi’s room, Lucifer couldn’t help but investigate. The door was open ever so slightly. He peeked his head in first, eyes scanning the room and settling on a pile of blankets in the center.

He walked closer and sat down on the bed and let the silence permeate for a moment.

“Levi,” he said softly, the sniffling stopped for a moment, “Why are you crying?”

Levi didn’t say a word. Lucifer didn’t move.

“I’m not gonna do anything or amount to anything,” Levi sniffled, “I’m not good at anything. My interests are weird. I’m  just taking up space and… and-”

And Dad said so.

The unspoken words lingered like a bitter perfume in the air. Lucifer knew their father had most likely said such things to Levi, he knew that he’d probably said more to Levi and the idea made Lucifer’s blood boil. Just because his brother had interests that their parents hadn’t deemed worthwhile, it didn’t  mean that it made them any less important nor did it define his worth in any way. 

Yet the words of their abandoners still ran hot through Levi’s veins, and the idea of his own self worth suffered. 

It was despicable.

Deplorable.

“Who told you this Levi?” Lucifer asked.

The pile of blankets went quiet for a moment, “Just people…”

“Well they’re wrong,” Lucifer said, pulling the blanket down from Levi’s head, “You have plenty of talents and you have a place in this family.”

He picked up one of the controllers around them. The plastic felt awkward in his hands, and the buttons were foreign to him. Levi hadn’t moved, so Lucifer went to the next thing he could think of.

“I’d like it if you could teach me how to play.”

***********

After countless hours of research on cats, Lucifer finally made a decision. Satan had difficulties when it came to being calm. He surrounded himself with teas, and books, and music, but every now and again something (or someone) would ruin the atmosphere he worked so hard to create. Lucifer wanted to help him, he wanted him to find some sort of peace and maybe a cat was just what was needed.

Satan loved cats. Ever since he’d been young he’d had an affinity for them. Lucifer used to catch him setting out scraps for the strays outside of their old house, and maybe on more than one occasion Lucifer had left out said scraps for Satan to find. 

Cerberus was good with other animals, he’d seen the dog around cats and Lucifer didn’t think there’d be any problem with having another pet in the house. Satan was responsible and a wonderful student.  Lucifer wanted to help him and wanted to see him succeed.

“Where are we going?” Satan asked, crawling into the passenger seat. 

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

The look in his brothers eyes when he realized where they pulled up  to was one Lucifer swore he’d never forget. He asked him not to run as they got out of the car, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. He knew every cat in the shelter would be coming home with them if Satan could have his way, but they would be settling on one.

“Lucifer?”

Satan was staring into one of the pens. A small grey kitten with bright green eyes stared back. Needles to say, the soft bundle made the trip home with them. Lucifer swore that the calmest he’d ever seen Satan was when he was with that cat. He became a happier child and took care of her all on his own. His laughter filled the halls of the home more often, and it was contagious. Lucifer enjoyed seeing Satan smile, and he hoped the world would continue to allow him to have this type of happiness.

***********

Clothing stores had become a second home for the Morningstars. Lucifer swore the clothes he bought for his brothers never fit past the mall dressing rooms. Every other week he was bringing one or two of his brothers for shirts, or pants, or shoes, or some other article of clothing. Today it was him and Asmodeus.

Lucifer pushed the cart down the thin aisle glancing at the various clothes on either side of them with Asmo hot on his heels. However, the closer they got to the usual section the further and further Asmo lagged behind. It wasn’t until Lucifer was in front of the button ups that he realized his younger brother was no longer close behind him. Panic seized him for a moment, thinking he’d lost one of his siblings, but soon he spotted Asmo a few aisles down looking off at something.

“Asmo. Don’t wander off,” Lucifer said, as he approached him. The closer he got to Asmo, the better he could see what he was looking at. 

Pretty bows, flower clips, other sparkling hair pieces, skirts, loose fitting sweaters. Lucifer took a moment, looking over all of the different clothes, before realizing how nervous Asmo looked. Normally he was talkative and bubbly, but right now he was uncharacteristically silent and avoiding Lucifer’s eyes.

His brother had always liked pretty things. He loved picking flowers and having Lucifer catch butterflies for him to look at. He loved to watch the way sparkling dresses twirled in the movies they watched together and looking at the makeup on models on posters in the mall. Lucifer noticed these things, Lucifer knew these things about his brother, but Asmodeus didn’t know that Lucifer knew.  Asmo was worried, and unfortunately Lucifer thought he knew why. 

His brothers deserved to feel safe, to be happy, and even if they’d had a rough beginning, Lucifer wanted to make sure the rest of their stories led to a happy ending.

Lucifer leaned against the cart and offered a smile, “Well, pick out some things to try on.” 

Asmo perked up, looking shocked before a wide grin spread across his face. He put multiple outfits together from various sections and filled the cart. Lucifer honestly hoped they’d last him a while and that he wouldn’t outgrow them as soon as they got home. Asmo’s excitement was contagious.

Later that night, when he dropped him off at Solomon’s, Asmo tore out of the car, excited to show his friend his new clothes, hair clip sparkling in the sunlight.

***********

“Is dinner ready yet?”

Lucifer sighed and put the knife down next to the vegetables he was chopping. Beel had an appetite unlike any he’d come across before.  Doctors had said that he was probably going through a growth spurt and that he was likely going to be tall. A growing boy needed food, and Beel was far from a picky eater.

“Not yet.”

It was the same answer he’d given a few minutes ago.

Beel’s stomach echoed through the small kitchen as Lucifer picked up the knife once more. As he chopped away, his younger brother inched closer until his little eyes were peaking over the counter. A small hand reached out to steal a carrot piece from the counter. It wasn’t sneaky, Lucifer saw, but it didn’t matter.

Beel watched Lucifer in silence for a while, eyes wide and tracing every movement his older brother made.

“Lucifer?”

“Hm?”

“If I help you with dinner will it be done faster?”

The chopping stopped once more as Lucifer thought for a moment. Of course he could let Beel help. He didn’t want him using the knife, but this could still be a good opportunity to learn.  Slowly he nodded and looked towards the vegetables he’d already cut. 

“See those right there? Could you put those into the pot for me? I have another pot on the stove filled with water if you’d like to watch it warm up. When it’s boiling we can put the noodles in,” he said.

Beel’s grin widened and he nodded quickly, almost tripping over himself to help.

“And make sure you wash your hands, and be careful with the stove!”

Dinner had been quite lively that night. Beel chattered on and on about how he’d helped Lucifer with dinner, which led to some of the other younger ones wanting to learn so they could cook what they wanted. Lucifer chuckled quietly to himself. He knew he’d have to teach the rest of them eventually, but he never thought that he’d have a little cooking class on his hands.

***********

Finals had Lucifer stressed. He was running off of at least thirty-six shots of espresso split between six separate cups of coffee. Sleep seemed like a distant and fond memory to him, something he hadn’t experienced in a long while. He almost didn’t pick up on the sounds of small feet slowly padding against the floorboards of the house.

“Lucifer?”

The voice startled him, and he almost spilled one of his cups of coffee that had long gone cold. He swore softly before turning around. The soft glow of his laptop had been the only light source illuminating the room, and it took his eyes a while to adjust. Belphie stood in the doorway, pillow in one hand and his blanket trailing behind him. 

“Don’t tell the others, but,” Belphie was hesitant, his eyes swept to the floor, pink flooding his cheeks, “I had a really bad nightmare, and I can’t fall back asleep.”

Lucifer sat up a bit and tilted his head, “Is there anything you’d like to tell me about it?”

Belphie started to shake his head, then he hesitated. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before shaking his head again. “No,” he said, “But can I stay out here with you? But don’t-”

“Tell anyone? Of course I won’t, but you’re welcome to stay,” he yawned, scooting over ever so slightly to make room on the couch. He could feel his brother hesitate for a moment before wandering over to lay down. Minutes ticked by, and it wasn’t long until Belphie’s eyes shut once more and his small body slowly rose and fell

The more peace he could bring his brothers the better. Even at the slightest disturbance of sleep, Lucifer would smooth back Belphie’s hair in an attempt to calm him. Nightmares had become a common thing after what happened for a lot of them, and that meant Lucifer became alright when dealing with them.

He wasn’t going to leave them ever.

*********

Had he made the right decision? Or had his own pride made him so stupid as to make the worst mistake of his brothers’ lives? Should he have let them be taken by other families, potentially more stable families, and just set up dates to meet? Had he been selfish in his decisions?

These thoughts often plagued Lucifer when he was alone with his own thoughts. He thought about the problems his brothers faced and part of him felt responsible. He felt responsible for their fears, their problems, their worries. Everything bad that afflicted them could potentially be his fault. 

Mammon’s rebellious behavior.

Levi’s self deprecation.

Satan’s frustrations.

Asmo’s issues with his image.

Beel’s misplaced guilt.

Belphie’s angst.

Maybe he thought he could do more for them than he was actually capable of.

Maybe he’d been wrong.

**********

“Lucifer!”

Lucifer’s eyes glanced up from his paperwork to look at Diavolo from across the desk. He’d had piles of paperwork today, it felt like more than usual. There’d also been an influx in clients. New hires would definitely be needed soon. Perhaps he could have a meeting with Diavolo and Barbatos about it. 

“It’s time to clock out!” he said, bright and chipper as usual, “I was wondering if I could walk you home?”

Lucifer sighed and put down his pen. Diavolo was a good man and Lucifer did love him, but sometimes Lucifer felt like he took his work a little less seriously than he did.

Or maybe Lucifer was a little too strict. 

“That isn’t exactly necessary, besides, I have some things I need to finish up before I head home.”

“Nuh uh!” Diavolo clicked his tongue and shook his head, “The last time I let you stay past close to work, you were still here when I got back in the morning! It’s time to clock out. I’ll even help you where I can tomorrow!”

If he could stay on task when Lucifer needed him to. But Diavolo was a good man to work with, and he had proven himself time and time again. So Lucifer really shouldn’t worry himself all too much…

With a sigh of defeat Lucifer stood from his seat, each vertebrae in his spine cracking as he did so. He’d sat longer than he intended to…  “Alright, you win,” he said, “Just let me organize my work.”

Barbatos was waiting for them by the doors of the firm, keys in hand. Diavolo’s hand was pressed firmly against Lucifer’s back as he chattered away excitedly. It brought a soft smile to Lucifer’s face as he nodded to Barbatos. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how routine it had become for the three of them to walk home together. They were two of the closest friends Lucifer had ever had. After all, taking care of his brothers hadn’t left much room for socializing.

He knew Diavolo walking him home would also require him staying to talk for a little bit. Lucifer was already thinking of the variety of teas he could make for the two of them to relax with. His home wasn’t ideal, considering his brothers could be nosey when it came to his relationship, but if it made Diavolo happy it would suffice.

“Thank you,” he said as Diavolo opened the door for him, “Now-”

His sentence was cut short. No sooner had he walked into the kitchen and turned the lights on than confetti streamers went off, and a chorus of ‘surprise!’ surrounded him. 

His brothers were all there, standing with wide smiles and eager faces. In the center of it all was a cake: “Congrats on One Year!”

Diavolo was behind him again, guiding a stunned Lucifer into the room. His hand squeezed his shoulder, excitement coursing through his veins. 

“You haven’t forgotten have you?” Barbatos hummed, “The firm has been around for a year now. Your brothers wanted to congratulate you and asked us both to help.”

Ah. That’s right. This is why Barbatos was their secretary. The man knew how to keep track of the passage of time. 

Seeing that their brother was still in shock, Beel decided to speak up, “We wanted to let you know how proud we are of you.”

“Despite everything you’ve had to do and all the odds stacked against you, you still did it!” Asmo chirped in.

“And you did it while still raising all of us,” Satan smiled.

“Even when we could be the biggest pains in the ass,” Mammon said.

Levi turned to look at him, “Hey, stop talking about yourself Mammon.” 

“Oi!”

“Nah, he’s right, we can all be annoying,” Belphie snorted, “Well, you guys anyways.”

Despite his brother’s bickering, Lucifer’s smile had found its way back on to his face, “Thank you… All of you.”

“Well, why stand here when we have a cake to eat?” Diavolo chuckled, “Come on now Lucifer, let’s take a seat. Ha! That rhymed. Look at me being a poet!”

As Lucifer sat down with the others, he couldn’t help but look over all of his brothers. They’d all grown into such fine young men with bright futures. They were laughing, and happy, and together… They’d had their rough patches and a rather depressing beginning, but now they had a bright future ahead of them. Maybe Lucifer did make the right decision and maybe he’d been too hard on himself at times.

Despite every terrible thing that had happened they’d made it. They’d all beat the odds. As he sat there with his family he looked each of them over.

Confident and boisterous Mammon, who enjoyed drawing in attention.

Passionate Levi, who loved his hobbies more fervently than anyone Lucifer had ever met before.

Intelligent and calculating Satan, who’d always be hungry for knowledge.

Sweet little Asmo, who wore his heart on his sleeve and could spot beauty in anyone.

Gentle giant Beel, who was so compassionate and was always sensitive to the needs of others.

And a mellow Belphie, who knew how to appreciate the little things in life.

Lucifer was proud of them. No. Pride couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling spreading throughout his chest. This feeling was so much more intense. They were all so happy together, and Lucifer wouldn’t give this up for the world.

Their parents would never understand what a grievous mistake they’d made. Lucifer would never understand their reasoning, and he would never make excuses for them.

Lucifer had one thing they’d never have: the love of his brothers.

They would never have the satisfaction of seeing them be successful in life, and Lucifer would make sure they were successful and happy.

Even if Lucifer hadn’t been perfect, he knew he raised them right.

He knew they’d have bright and happy futures.

[finalgirlkateausten]

Sick Day

So this drabble goes with a larger au, which is currently an in-progress multichap that will be up... at some point. Huge huge thank yous to @freetobegrace and @andreasbayden for the inspiration for this! We've all kinda been talking about a Ted Lasso au where Rebecca and Rupert had a kid, and I've finally gotten around to writing it. Could not be more honored to brainstorm with these lovely people ❤

Summary: Rebecca gets a call from her son's school that she needs to pick him up because he's gotten sick... but technically, it's Rupert's week for custody.

Monday morning sees Rebecca in an utterly foul mood that even biscuits from Ted hardly help. It’s storming outside, a torrential downpour, she has three more days until she sees her son again, and coming off a semi-relaxing weekend to a mountain of contract re-negotiations and relegation costs is enough to make anyone miserable.

The biscuits and her lunch plans with Higgins are the only bright spots in a day she already knows will be filled with paper cuts and ink stains, so she’s even slightly relieved when her phone rings. Talking to another person is almost always better than staring at a screen or signing documents until her hand is cramping. She picks up her cell phone quickly, frowning when she sees the contact name for James’ school scrolling across the screen.

“This is Rebecca Welton,” she answers.

”Ms. Welton, this is Lucy, the school nurse at Richmond Primary School, are you available to pick James up today?” the young woman sounds unreasonably chipper, and there’s the sound of a keyboard clacking, even through the phone. ”He threw up in class and is running a fairly high fever.”

“Yes, of course,” she answers immediately, swallowing bile in her throat as she realizes what she has to say. “But, ah… technically James should go home with his father. He has custody this week.”

”James specifically asked that we call you instead,” the nurse responds. ”He says he’s felt bad all day, but his dad told him he needed to go to school anyway.”

Rebecca mulls that over. James isn’t normally one for exaggeration, but Rupert won’t be at all forgiving just because she got the call and their son asked for her. “Would it be too much trouble for me to speak to him?”

”Not at all.” There’s shuffling on the other end, and then James speaks, sounding tired and puny even over the phone.

”Are you going to come pick me up, Mum? I don’t feel good.”

“I’m very sorry about that,” she says, her heart aching at the thought of not being there for her son. “But James, you technically are supposed to go home with your dad.”

”Dad doesn’t even believe I’m sick,” the nine-year-old protests. ”I told him I didn’t feel good this morning, and he said I should ‘buck up and walk it off’. Even Bex-who-I-don’t-like--” he always says her name like that, all together, as if the descriptor is a part of it-- ”Put her hand on my forehead and said I felt warm. But he just ignored her!”

At that, Rebecca’s last flake of charitability toward her ex-husband vanishes, washed down the storm sewer with the rain. “Alright, I’ll be right there. You don’t have to go back to your dad’s this week, not if he can’t even take care of you when you’re sick. I’m sorry you had to go to school feeling bad, James. I love you.”

”Thanks, Mum. I love you too.”

Not half an hour later, she’s in the back of the Rolls Royce with James dozing in her lap. She clicks on Higgins’ contact in her phone-- she really needs to change that name-- and waits as it rings.

”Hello? Why are you calling me from your office?”

“I’m not in my office,” she says, keeping her voice low and absentmindedly stroking James’ hair. His forehead is damp with sweat. “Sorry, but I’m going to have to cancel our lunch plans; James got sick at school so I’m taking him home. I assume he’ll sleep and I’ll be able to answer emails and whatnot as usual.”

”Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Higgins says. She can practically hear his hesitation through the phone.

“I’d like you to call Rupert for me.”

All she gets for that is a sigh.

“He’s going to be spitting mad if he finds out at school pickup, you’d best call now,” she continues. “Quite frankly, I don’t care if I’m in violation of the custody agreement, James told him he was sick this morning-- and he was-- and Rupert blatantly ignored him.”

”I’ll do it, I’ll do it,” Higgins says, ”But I’m a director of football operations, Rebecca, not a divorce lawyer.”

“And you’re quite good at your job,” she says. “I’m just asking you to do me a favor, Leslie. Please and thank you.”

”Alright,” he agrees, ”but if he tries to press the issue, I’m telling him to call you.”

Higgins must offer some sort of suitable explanation, because Rebecca has a good hour of peace and quiet before her phone rings. She tucks James into bed, singing softly and rubbing his back until he fully drifts off. Once she’s positioned a trash can by the side of his bed, she heads to the kitchen, ignoring her work emails in favor of starting up a pot of chicken soup.

Even though the work she does ultimately have to do is the same as what she’d be doing at the club, it feels nicer at home, sitting in the large beanbag in the corner of her son’s room. Her back is going to complain to her about this later, but it’s worth it, to be able to watch over him. Rebecca occasionally unfolds herself from her cross-legged position to check on him closer, pressing her hand or her lips to his forehead. The fever doesn’t seem better, but she’s made an appointment with the doctor already, so that’s good.

When her phone rings, she heaves a sigh and steps from the room, crossing her fingers that the conversation stays civil, though she knows that’s unlikely.

“This is Rebecca Welton…”

[yandere-mha-blog]

Chapter 8: Handy

words: 2218

There was only one more thing hawks wanted to do at the moment, get your talon back, he was smart to keep one of his feathers on the guy he smacked against the door. Hearing the conversation on how he keeps his little “trophies” in front of the people he “interrogated”.

“I was so worried when I heard the news that Nighthawks somehow found a way to break in.” His wife said, “And to hear you were actually hurt.”

“I'm fine, nothing to worry about.” He said

“But dad, you have a large bump on your head.” His kid said

“Nothing time and some ice won’t heal.” he said “thanks for dinner honey.”

He gave his wife a quick kiss on the cheek before heading into his workroom and taking out your talon from a glass box before putting it back in and then going to the other trophies this man had collected, what a sicko. Three days had passed and it was about time Hawks got it back for you, then man was getting too comfy thinking that he was in the clear, sure Hawks moved quickly but he also knew when to wait for the right time to strike.

Hawks waited and waited till he saw all the lights go off in the house, all except for the office, Hawks feather finally floated out from under the guy's coat as he were none the wise and he didn’t even notice it undoing the window lock and slowly lifting it up, the man was so immersed in whatever he was writing down he didn't even notice hawks climbing in through the window with one of his primary feathers shaped out, hawks ave him a second and nope, man this guy instincts were awful, or Hawks was just that good at hiding his presents.

So it was really easy for hawks to over his mouth with his gloved hands and have his primary feather against the man throat only then did he notice

“Hi, guys.” Hawks said “How are you doing this fine night? Well, I guess you can't really talk, right now, now you are probably wondering why I am here, the answer is very very simple, even the score.”

Hawks had two of his feather an inch away from the guy's eyes

“Now look unless you want to go blind you will stay quiet and answer my questions okay.”

The guy just nodded and hawks uncovered his mouth

“Please, don't kill me, I was just doing my job.” He said

“Is that how you justify your actions, there is a lot to unpack there, now where did you put her talon?”

“On the second-highest shelf, third to the left.” He said as hawks used his feathers to lift it off and put it in his coat pocket “That's all you wanted right.”

“Hmm well, one more question, which hand did you hold to pilers to pull it out.” Hawks said, “And I don't know isn’t an answer.”

“I used, my left hand to hold them,” he said

“Good now place your left hand on your desk.” Hawks said

“Why are you planning to do it?”

“Just a taste of your own medicine.” Hawks said, “Look if you won’t put it down, maybe your wife would offer hers up.”

“What?” The man said

“Tell you what I'll let you decide, your wife's left hand, or yours.” Hawks said and the man was now sweating buckets

“I need my hands to provide for my family.” He said, “I can't lose them.”

“You know that was a rhetorical question, at least I don't feel as bad doing this.” Hawks said slicing the man's hand clean off, it took him a moment to process it seeing the numb he now had for a left hand and started screaming out in pain, Hawks saw him topple over to the floor before picking up the hand and leaving, he tossed it over his shoulder over who knows where, he sure was glad he locked the office door before he went, wouldn't want that kid of his seeing the blood sprayed all over the place.

Still, now he had one more place to go for the night, meeting up with his broker, someone who would do anything for you as long as you had the money w. Giran, the man who was not interested in anyone's plans, Hawks respected that part about him, not being tied down by just one person, the same man where he got his current gear. Hawks landed on the fire escape and walked down and into Girans' place.

“Well well if it isn't my favorite feathered friend.” He said taking in a long inhale of smoke “You got blood on your cheek.”

“Ah, it's not mine.” Hawks said, “Anyway I have a request for you.”

“Haha why else would you come and see me.” he said, taking out a pack of cigarettes “Want one.”

“I'm good.” Hawks said

“You're loose.” He said, “now you said you needed something different than usual, and I'm assuming it has to do with that woman you got from HPSC?”

“It does, they took out one of her talons, so I need a proteic so she will be able to wear it and use it again.” Hawks said removing the talon and placing it on the table

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Giran asked, “The root of the tail is intact so no way is she growing that back, also interesting this isn't regular Keratin.”

“I asked you to make it usable again, not analyze it.” Hawks said

“I know a guy, What will probably happen is he will put it in a fingerless glove that wraps around her wrist, a few never receptors and when she flexes her finger then this one will pop out.” Giran explained, “Still I'm surprised you went to him for help, whatever happened to you being a lone bird.”

“Can't just leave someone out to dry.” Hawks said taking out a wad of cash “And I only went to them on a one-time deal, they have their plan I have mine.”

“Hey, it lets me make money.” He said “Come back tomorrow ill have it ready for you. One more thing, they are planning something big tomorrow so watch the news.”

“I will.” Hawks said, “Oh one more thing, do you have any medical books laying around.”

“I'm sure I can come up with something, but why do you ask?”

“A housewarming gift.” Hawks said, “make sure they are interesting, none of that fluffy shit the gritter the better.”

“...noted,” Giran said, looking a bit perplexed at his request. With that said hawks left attaching his wings and head out back to his hideout to see you lunging in his twin-sized mattress reading a magazine he had laying around

“Hey I'm back.” he said as you put your hand up and waved at him “So, how are you doing?’

“Still healing, did you finish those errands?”

“Sure did.” Hawks said “I still need to grab some grub. Do you want anything?’

“Anything will do.” you said flipping the page “Also when I saw you had a magazine that said chick weekly I wasn't expecting it to have a bunch of baby bird photos.”

“Hey, we all have our hobbies.” Hawks said take the magazine out of your hand  "And be careful this is my only copy.”

“Why do they even make magazines like this?” you asked

“Same reason there are millions of magazines for heroes, money.” Hawks said

“Do you have some weird bird fetish?” you deadpanned

“NO!” HAwks said, “where would you even get that idea!”

“That was a joke.” you said “Got pretty defensive there.”

“Find something else to read here.” Hawks said tossing you a flyer about the HPSC “You are smart enough to know that having information on your enemy is key to defeating them.”

“I already read this.” you said,” Still the fact it says we strive for a healthy relationship between the public and heros' makes me wanna barf.”

“Tell me about it.” Hawks said scratching his head “You are only allowed to your quirk for good, and the only way to use your quirk to work under them in some way, so they must be good like they haven't been brainwashing kids.”

“My dad never let me watch those PSAs about them or any advertisements that had heroes,” you said

“Well, your dad is a smart man.” Hawks said, “I mean that as soon as a kid turns 15 they can go through life-threatening training so they can work under them, and that's what they expect of them.”

“Then there is the fact that your worth is based on how powerful your quirk is.” you said getting up and walking over “and if you don't have a strong quirk you are seen as worthless.”

“Haha, we could go all night saying how horrible they are.” HAwks said giving you two quick taps on the head before stepping out “I’ll be back with some grub.”

“Okay I'll stay here,” you said and waved him off, maybe there was a more personal reason why Hawks hated them, still if he wasn't going to tell you then that was his right, still you thought at least now you wouldn't be bored, but being cooped up in a small room, wasn't exactly who you thought life on the run with a dangerous villain would be.

When Hawks came back with the food you happily indulge in as he smacked the top of an old tv, to get a signal.

“There has been an attempted break-in at U.A, the alarm system went off but there no report of suspense activity-” The reporter was saying before a scruffy looking teacher pushed the camera out of the way

“Go home.”

“Hey you can't just touch property like that, hey what are-” and it was cut off

“Gross.” Hawks said, “You know I can’t Believe they have schools for this.”

“Seems a bit excessive.” you said “you know before heroes came into view it was just the cops, can you imagine if people viewed cops and law enforcement the way they view heroes now,” you said

“I can.” Hawks said spreading his wings out “I don't like them having kids fresh out of MIddle school do training.”

“Well technically they choose this school, but on the other hand it has been installed in them to be a hero from a young age, you have seen all the toys marketed towards them, HPSC is more like a moneymaker, is that why you hate them?”

“Part of the reason, yeah.” Hawks said stealing a bite from your plate “Another part is personal, and I'm assuming it's personal for you as well.”

You looked down at your thumb and sighed “It is now, however, there is another part but it's long been forgotten to me.”

“Aww come on you can tell me.” Hawks said

“Hmmm.” you tapped your chin “well I guess there is no harm in telling you, but my mother was actually a hero but died soon after I was born.”

“Huh like during birth?” Hawks asked, you shook your head

“No, you see she had been out of commission for a while, with the whole baby thing, they were against her having me in the first place, but my mom wanted a family, so they had me and they wanted my mom to make this big come back, but she was hasn't been active for so long she died in the long of duty.”

“I can't begin to imagine the pain of knowing that.” Hawks said

“Well I never knew her, and my dad did everything he could to make me happy growing up, he explained it to me in middle school.”

“Well, you know anything about her?” Hawks asked

“My dad showed me a photo and said I'm the spitting image of her, and i got her quirk but mixed with my dads,” you said

“What's your dads' quirk?”

“Oh he is able to eject a tungsten-like material from his wrist.” you said, “my moms' talons couldn't retreat back in like mine and could chip easier.”

“Wait a second...you are the daughter of the clawed hero?” Hawks said

“That was her code name, why do you ask?” you said

“Oh, I've done research on all the past heroes who died in the line of duty.” Hawks said, “Most of the time it's, they died for the greater good, or they gave their lives for others.”

“That's adding insult to injury to their families.” You said, “Hawks, have you ever killed a hero?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call them heroes, have I killed people who got their hero listens, yes.” Hawks said, “Caught them doing something illegal, when I brought it up they said I was the villain and they were going to capture me.”

“So what exactly is your end goal here?” you asked as you finished up your meal

“To end the HPSC and their crooked practices, like abducting people and ripping their nails off.” Hawks said, “They have a firm grip on the narrative of everything, I'll get it done.” “Well can't wait to see it, it should be interesting,” you said

[btssavedmylifeblr]

I forgot to send on my voting story. Ok so my brother and I both got mail in ballots, and let me tell you how we both forgot to mail it in so we just thought to bring them to our voting location. The lady there kinda yelled at us? She was confused and didn't know how to go about it. And honestly I just took it because we were the idiots who didn't mail in our ballots. We had to rip them up and they just us new ones to fill out in person and submit. Not exciting, but a story for void snippet. 👀

Anonymous said: Hi!! I'm so excited for void! I voted today around 30 minutes before the polls closed in my neighborhood because I had to wait for my dad and brother to get home from work since they wanted to go all together hehe. It was a pretty fast process! We just pressed buttons on screens (compared to last election where we had to bubble in everything by hand) plus, I got to keep the stylus that they gave us and it works on phones too! 🥰🥰 Thank you! I love your writing so much 💜💜💜

Anonymous said: I did mine through mail me and my husband did and we went to the post office a little while back and then he took us on a nice little date afterward and we got ice cream! Also I love void💖 keep up the good work

Anonymous said: VOTES FOR VOID??? I love democracy and I love VOID! So since May I've (temporarily) moved back home from New York to Indiana RE: covid; I've voted absentee for the both the primaries and presidential election (I'm still in IN rn...blah). I voted early and mailed in my ballot for the presidential election (about 3 weeks ago). Made sure my family was voting (brother mailed it in, mom dropped off a ballot, and dad did early voting) and encourage them to put up a Biden sign in our yard <3

Anonymous said: HI BEE! I ALSO VOTED TODAY! IM 21 SO THIS IS MY FIRST TIME VOTING FOR THE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION (my 18th bday didnt make the cutoff since im a december bday) im so happy to have done my part! I made sure to study up on the judges and policies and everything! Luckily the polling place didn't have a line so i was able to get in, get my ballot, and fill it in right away! I even dragged my mom and cousin to come with me. I made a joke on snapchat to encourage my friends to vote too. It was a pic of my "i voted" sticker with a caption saying "omg youre so sexy when you vote aHaha" -🦙

Anonymous said: this is my first time doing this so, so i hope i’m sending this correctly! i voted early in late september by mail! i live in a swing state, so it’s really important for me to vote and not waste time!! bc of my age, this is my first time voting so i’m really nervous 😅

Anonymous said: I voted by email! I'm overseas so I wasn't sure if my ballot would actually make it through in time, so I decided to go electronically. Had to sign a waiver saying I understand that my vote won't be anonymous but I haven't been given a reason to suspect voter suppression/fraud in my state, so I'm happy I think...!

Anonymous said: hi, i voted early on oct 24th. my absentee ballot didn't come in, so i had to travel back home to vote (~3 hour drive). when we got there, there was a ton of people outside the polling place, but no lines, so i was in and out pretty quick. it was my first time voting, so i had all the candidates i was voting for written down on a tiny receipt so i wouldn't forget 😅. my mom was with me, so she voted too. took a pic with my sticker (mask on for extra covid-ness) and went home. drove back the next afternoon!

whippedforkook said: Hi Bee. 💕 I voted in early October - nearly a month ago! 😱 It’s been really weird with all the lead up to the election because it felt like it should have been done once I cast my ballot! A lot of my friends have volunteered to get out the vote: writing postcards to voters, texting, phone banking, working the polls, curing ballots. I didn’t volunteer at all this year, but I hope that all of my friends’ hard work and everyone else’s is enough. I’m also hoping and praying that I will be in a better place mentally for 2022 so that I too can volunteer. Our work starts with 2020 not ends. 💕 Wishing you well. 💕

begineuphoria said: I went and voted last Friday as it was our last early voting day. No way was I going to wait until today with the crowds of people in my area that still act as if masks are somehow infringing on their rights. 🙄 It was a rather normal experience for the most part. Other than having to use a coffee stir stick to press the buttons on the machine to vote. In and out within five minutes.

Anonymous said: I voted down the street at this pretty park this morning. I got up at 5:30 and it was freezing. Luckily I wore like 30 layers and stood outside for 2 hours. Some nasty orange man supporters were rude but everyone else was pretty nice. A really cute older couple was playing soccer with pine cones and kicked it towards me to play too. Not the worst time tbh.

Anonymous said: Did mail-in voting in California! Extremely exhausting and took forever to research all the propositions - they are notoriously tricky in hiding their flaws and one side tends to outrageously outspend the other. But in the end I felt really good about my research and decisions! No need for you to post a snippet for this story - would like to save that to read sometime in the future ;) Thank you so much for doing this!

joonsgotthejuice said: Votes for void??? I am here! I went last Thursday and it was chaotic bc I kept going past the poll place but the line was soooo long so my mom called me and woke me up like "its pouring rain and the line is super short get up I'm gonna pick you up" so thats the story of how I got dressed in 5 minutes and dragged my ass to vote in the rain <3

Anonymous said: i voted early on thursday it was cold and rainy but i went in the late afternoon and thankfully the only waiting i did was a few minutes for an elevator i got very lucky and while waiting for the results is awful the relief that came from voting in general was just great

Anonymous said: Wheeew the polls just closed and I finally got to cast my ballot yayyy ( I was the one working the polls from earlier) it’s been a really really long day and we actually had surprisingly good turnout. I saw a woman try to vote for someone else who claimed to be “helping” and I saw a woman who I’m pretty sure was on some typa something 👀 Overall though I really I’m really thankful for people like you who encouraged people to get out and vote. I hope the odds are in our favor❤️🤞🏼

chelsea-chee said: Hello Bee! Today surprisingly my elderly father wanted to vote so I brought him out with me. He only cared about voting for Biden, which meant I got to help decide who he should vote for with the rest of the candidates and amendments! Say hello to baby bee for me as well! 💖

Anonymous said: Okay I gonna got a chance to vote today and the process wasn’t that bad actually. I went in just now and it wasn’t that busy( thankfully) so no lines. I’m from Texas and it’s gonna be almost impossible to turn this state blue, but every vote counts! I love that you are getting people to vote and also sharing your experiences as well!

owl-orgy said: Dropped off my mail in ballot at a polling location! I originally wanted to vote early in person because I was worried my signature wouldn’t match closely enough but ended up just turning it in and double checked today to make it said “ballot accepted and counted”!

Anonymous said: I voted in person this afternoon, better late than never I guess. I was gonna go last week but then I got cramps from hell. There was no one in line in front of me, I think my county early voted because it was packed everyday the last few weeks

Anonymous said: I voted early a couple weeks ago. Exciting thing though that did happen was I got both my parents to vote for their first time ever.

Anonymous said: I had a mail in vote. So, I filled it out and dropped it in at the ballot box at my library. (I also checked out books for the first time in years, so I had fun!)

bubblyjiminnie said: I literally just finished voting. Lucky for me, the line and wait wasn’t very long, and it was a nice enough day that the short amount of time I had to spend in line outside of the building wasn’t too bad. My social anxiety when it comes to stuff like this tends to be high but that’s what I get for waiting until Election Day instead of going the mail in route. This was only my second time voting, but I’m glad that I did 😊

Anonymous said: I turned my ballot in last week :) I’m not a big fan of crowds and I hate make spur of the moment choices but despite that the first time I was able to vote back in 08 my Mom pressured me into voting in person because “you’d have to experience it at least once in our life”. And ever since then I comfortably vote by mail. I take my time, do all of my research, listen to music, and best of all don’t have to deal with people.

Anonymous said: here in Washington state it’s super easy to vote. I dropped my ballot off in mid-October and it’s already been accounted for! Mail in voting and drop box voting is fantastic and provides equal opportunity and access. Sad to see some people in red states misinforming Americans about it! We also have a referendum for implementing mandatory sex ed, including teaching respect, empathy and consent as part of the curriculum so I was happy to vote yes on that too!

unionrox006 said: I voted about 2 weeks ago by doing a mail in ballot. The other eligible to vote members of my household did the same. We chose to vote by absentee ballot because both my mom and I have an autoimmune disorder, so we have to be careful going out in the pandemic. Tbh, the ballot layout was a bit confusing at first as was all the paperwork and required IDs and documents. But my dad explained it to me and we got them filled out and mailed off. Kinda mad I didn't get a sticker for it though

bluetostone said: Love this and so excited for the next chp of void! I early voted a few weeks ago and because I live in a pretty rural county I was in and out of my polling place in a few minutes. No sticker though 😢. I live in a swing state so it could go either way in terms of delegates. Just praying everyone is safe tonight as the results roll in...though, won't we not know for sure for a couple of days or weeks?

Anonymous said: My mom, sister, and I received our early voting ballots a while ago and I took the longest to fill mine out because it was making me anxious :,( but I did return it before it was due. I checked our ballot statuses and mine and my moms were accepted but my sister’s said they hadn’t received hers back. Then she got another ballot so she filled that one out too and I took it yesterday 👍👍 I think she got two because she changed her address late so they sent two?

vixsynsblog said: Non-interesting voter story: I'm paranoid and live in a highly divided area, so I filed mail-in ASAP, mailed it a few days after cause neighbors are nosy and don't understand boundaries. Was able to track my ballot through my credit company, which was nice. Only thing I was missing was my sticker. Never got one✊😔. So I had to improvise and write it in pen on my disposable mask. I'm working all this week so if riots break out from either side, I'll be at work. Prayers for the safety of others🙏

______

Waaah!!! Thank you all for voting!! You are all my heroes. I am so grateful and proud of you. I’m sorry I ran out of time to respond to you individually. I’m going to drop two big scenes from Chapter 7 in gratitude (one of which will be familiar to my patrons and one won’t). I’m hopeful I will have the whole next chapter out very soon. Love you all!

Void spoilers below the cut.

When you wake up in the morning, there are still no signed HR forms in your messages. Had you been a fool to think they were interested? How much time does it take to decide such a thing? Perhaps just by putting the idea out there explicitly, it had lost all of its taboo appeal. 

There is a calendar reminder waiting for you: Today is chili pepper pollinating day. At least this gives you an excuse to talk to Hoseok. 

You find the science officer in the lab as always, sitting with his knee up against his chest. Hoseok doesn’t look well. He’s got dark circles under his eyes.

“Hey, um…” You shuffle your feet. Want to fuck me? No wait…“You don’t look good. Were you here all night?” you ask.

He blinks at you, bleary-eyed. “Um, was I? Yeah.. I suppose. Lost track of time.” He rubs his eyes, before looking you up and down, then casting his gaze back to the floor. 

All you want to do is ask about the forms. Or the meeting. Or what he thinks of you now. But you don’t. “I need to pollinate the chili peppers today.” Usually Hoseok is the person who assists with that. “But I can get one of the other guys to do it if you need the sleep.”

“No!” Hoseok lurches forward, standing up a bit to rapidly and needing to put his hand back on the bench to steady himself. “I mean, I’m fine.” 

You should disgaree with him. He is exhausted. But you’d like more time to talk to him. 

Pollinating the chili peppers is both time-sensitive and time-consuming, hence why it took two of you to get the job done. There were no insects on your ship to do the job for you and if they didn’t get pollinated, they wouldn’t bear any fruit. Your chili peppers were your favorite crop. Not only a vital source of Vitamin C, but all your food benefitted from having a bit of spice added to it. 

You and Hoseok head for the greenhouse together. The intital set-up gives you something to talk about in the beginning. Hoseok gathers the pollen from one flower onto a paintbrush, then hands it over to you to paint onto the stigmas of each little flower on the next plant in the line.

Slowly the conversation dries up as you fall into a silent rhythm. Other than just enjoying the chili peppers, you must admit that this was one of your favorite tasks on the ship because of the high likelihood that the two of you would brush hands peridically. Always gave you butterflies. But today he seems extra intent on keeping his distance from you. Was he disgusted by you now? His hands are trembling.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

His hand twitches so hard that a little rain of yellow pollen cascades onto the floor. He curses in frustration before turning to face you. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Um, yes, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“This, um, plan of yours…” he gestures to the vague tension in the air. “It doesn’t feel like you.”

“I’m trying to save the mission. That has always been my top priority.”

“Yeah, I’m still not clear on how this benefits the mission.”

“Yoongi said…” you start to say, but are cut off my Hoseok’s derisive snort. 

“Look, if you’re in love with Yoongi, just go date him, okay? Don’t feel obligated to include the rest of us out of pity.” 

You frown. “I’m not… I’m not in love with him. It’s just sex. Just biology.” 

“This isn’t you!” Hoseok argues back. “You hated the idea of anyone of us ever treating you that way. And now you just want all of us to… to… use you like that?”  He splutters out the end of the sentence.

“No one is using me! This is my plan! I’m in charge!”

He sighs. “Well, I can’t be a part of it. Excuse me.”

______

Taehyung finds you in the gym. It’s good to see him up and about, even if his arm is still in a sling. 

“Hey, so I need to talk to you about this, um, ape sex thing.” He fishes awkwardly into his pockets and pulls out his tablet.  Maybe Jimin was right. Is Taehyung going to be the first to take you up on your offer?

You pause your jog on the elliptical machine. You wish you weren’t so sweaty and gross for this conversation. Taehyung is such an intimidatingly attractive man with those strong eyebrows and that perfect skin. 

Taehyung opens up the tablet and flips to the form. It’s happening. He’s going to sign the form. Shit. Then what will you do? It’s one thing to say you want to have sex with your whole crew, but what if he’s hoping to go right now? You need a shower. 

Taehyung has really nice hands. Long strong fingers delicately navigating the touch screen. It seems totally improbable that a man this attractive would be into you, even if you were the only woman in the universe. It just adds to your suspicions that hormones are driving everyone crazy. Perhaps if you slept with him once, he’d lose all interest. 

He finds the form and then turns his gaze up to you, staring you down with those eyes. It’s a good thing that Taehyung rarely turns his full gaze on you, because it is almost too much to bear. Shit, is he just going to sign it? Is he waiting for you to give him some sort of signal?

“You can’t do this to Jimin,” he says.

“What?” Not what you were expecting. “Do what to Jimin?”

“This.” He gestures over the HR form. “Signing these forms with everyone. Having sex with everyone. You’re going to destroy Jimin.”

“Jimin’s the one who suggested this whole thing in the first place.” It’s a lie. You know its a lie. Or at least a gross exaggeration. But Jimin was the one who first brought up the idea of sharing. All for the benefit of the man in front of you now. 

“No way.” Taehyung scoffs, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “No way was it Jimin’s idea that you sleep with the whole crew.” 

“Well…” You can’t bear his gaze anymore and look down at the floor. “He wanted me to sleep with you.”

That surprises Taehyung. He puts down the tablet. “What? Why would he want that?”

This is awkward. “He, um, thinks you’re in love with me.”

“What?” There is only surprise on Taehyung’s face. It’s actually a relief to see that Taehyung is just as shocked by that idea as you were. “Why does he think that?”

“I don’t know…” You feel kind of dumb now. Of course, Taehyung doesn’t feel that way about you. Look at him. “Cause you told him you were jealous. Cause you can’t stand to be in the same room as us…”

Taehyung bites his lip. “Oh, um, shit, sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

If Taehyung isn’t jealous of Jimin... 

“Taehyung…” He looks up, biting his lip. “What did you mean? Who are you jealous of?” 

Taehyung’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he reaches for his microphone and mutes it. Out of respect, you mute yours as well. He glances toward the camera in the corner of the room, then stands up and begins unzipping his jumpsuit. 

“Um…” You are distracted by the golden arms that peak from either side of the tank top as the zipper reaches his groin. “What are you doing?”

“Need something to block the camera.”

“We have towels,” you mutter.  But he’s already stripping out of his shirt. The musculature of his back ripples. He hangs the shirt off of the camera to block the rest of the room from view. 

“Yeah, but this way anyone watching will think we’re having sex.” His chest is just as attractive as his back and you flush at the sight of it. Mercifully, he zips back into his jumpsuit as he returns to his position in front of the exercise machine. 

“You want them to think we’re having sex?”

“Don’t you? It plays right into your whole save the mission with bonobo sex plan.”

“I suppose.” Though the plan was also supposed to be that there would be no more secrets between the crew. “What plan of yours does it play into?”

“The one where Jimin doesn’t realize I’m in love with him.”

“You’ve never tried to tell him?”

Taehyung laughs wryly and shakes his head. “How would that conversation go? Hey man, I know we’ve known each other for years and I’ve already seen you naked and that you just think of me as a friend, but I’m in love with you. I know that’s awkward but now you have to spend the next twelve years with me, knowing that I’m attracted to you when you don’t feel the same way.” Taehyung sighs. “Doesn’t sound like a good plan to me. If he doesn’t feel the same way, I’ve just ruined the friendship for nothing and then I don’t even have that.”

“Yeah… I get that.”  There’s something touching about realizing that Taehyung has been fighting the same battle as you for the last two years. 

“I couldn’t tell anyone before launch because what if they wouldn’t let me go then? You know?”

“Yeah, the director wasn’t big on sending anyone who might ‘complicate’ the mission.” The two of you share a sad knowing smile. 

“Yeah… And I thought it would be fine, you know? I like women too. I’d just date women until launch and no one would know. I wasn’t planning on falling in love with my roommate.”

“I don’t think any of us really knew what this would be like.”

“I knew it was going to be a problem. I should have pulled out…” 

Your mind flashes back to that moment of doubt when Hoseok talked you into still coming on the mission.

“But I couldn’t just let him go off into space without me. Even if he’d never feel the same way, at least he’d still be in my life.”

The emotion in Taehyung’s words makes your eyes begin to mist. “You really do love him.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung sighs again. “But he’s in love with you.”

“Well, he thinks he is.”

“What does that mean?”

“He only feels like that about me cause he thinks I’m the only option.”  You wonder if maybe he would feel differently if he knew about Taehyung’s feelings. 

Taehyung frowns and shakes his head. “You don’t give him enough credit.”

“Oh come on, you know him. How many women did he date while we were in training?”

“A few…” 

“And how many of them was he in love with before he found the next one?”  

Taehyung bites his lip. He can’t really argue with that. “So why are you with him then, if you don’t think it’s real?”

You shrug, rubbing your arm. “He wants me. It’s nice to feel wanted, I guess.”

“You know you could have that with any man on this ship right?”

You scoff. “They’re all suffering the same delusion. It’s only-available-vagina syndrome. I just want us all to fuck and get it out in the open. Maybe if we could get it out of our system, they would see I’m nothing special. And then we can get back to the mission.”

Taehyung eyes you up and down. “You don’t give yourself enough credit either.”

You shrug. “You wait and see. Jimin will get bored of me. They all will.”

The two of you both slump backwards in your seats, mulling over your shared woes.  Taehyung bends down and picks up the tablet again. “So what should I do with this?”

“Obivously, you don’t have to sign it. I should have realized that not everyone would be interested.”

“Jimin thinks I’m in love with you?”

“Yeah…”

“Is it okay if we let him think that for now? At least until I figure out how to tell him the truth?”

“Okay.”

Taehyung smiles and signs the bottom of the form, then sends it to you. Your phone lights up with a message. “Thank you,” he murmurs before he leaves. 

[dibs4ever]

Grieving

Nathan Gordon smiled at the little red headed bundle in his arms. So tiny, and new. Only a month old and so much had already happened to the poor child she had already gone through so much. Her mentally unstable mother running off in the night with her 4 year old brother.

Leaving her father alone with the newborn and a paper signing her rights over. Why keep one but not the other?

Nathan couldn’t understand it

Then again Barbara Keen never was exactly right in the mind

“Dad thanks again for offering to do childcare.” The voice of Jim Gordon spoke

Nathan looked up at his son and shook his head “Think nothing of it. It’ll give me something to do with my days now that I’m retired” he smiled bringing his infant granddaughter to his shoulder

Jim smiled “Well there is absolutely nobody else in the world I’d trust Barbara with. You raised my sister and I on your own which wasn’t exactly common in the 70s and 80s “

Nathan chuckled “Your mother was involved.”

Jim looked at his father over the brim of his glasses. Okay so maybe he did raise the kids on his own for the most part

Little back story on Nathan Peter Gordon

After getting an honorary discharge from the Vietnam war due to an injured leg he did what all the war men did and found a wife to marry and settle down with. It was 1962 he was 25 years old when he married Francis.

She wasn’t like his friends wives, she wasn’t sweet or doting. She didn’t ask him how is day was

She was a bitter women who wouldn’t stand for anyone who didn’t agree with her.

If he was being honest with himself the only reason he married her was because that’s what was expected of him. Women weren’t where his attraction laid. But being a gay man in the 1960s was just asking for a lifetime of criticism. Besides Francis could give him what he desired to be most. A father. Which happened in 1963 when his his daughter Hannah was born and then 3 years later when James was born

He absolutely loved being a father but always feared leaving them with Francis when he left forgot work as an attorney . She was cruel to them.

In 1970 after years of verbal abuse and accusations from Francis he finally confessed to the woman that he was gay.

They promptly divorced, Francis shocked the judge when she requested only to have the children every other weekend. Allowing Nathan to be the primary caregiver.

Something he thanked it was probably the only nice thing she ever did for him. Although he was certain she didn’t want them anyways. It wasn’t easy being a single dad but he wouldn’t trade it for anything, he supported and loved his children. Praising their accomplishments. Hugging them when they were downs and giving advice as they grew up under his wings.

Fast forward it’s 1996 and he’s holding his 30 year old sons newborn daughter.

Nathan takes care of his granddaughter every day and some nights for the next 5 years as his son worked his way up in the GCPD.

Then in 2001 she starts kindergarten and he only has her after school and some nights. It’s a bittersweet moment for both Nathan and Barbara. The two of them were each other’s best friends

Nathan waited outside the school with the other parents and caregivers. The school doors opening

“Grandpa!” The five year old shouted running across the school courtyard and into his arms with a flying leap.

She snuggled into his chest “I missed you.”

He chuckled lightly “So did I, come on little one, let's go get ice cream. It's Friday after all.” He smiled

4 years later he’s on his way to pick her up from school again. He hadn’t been feeling right . He has a coughing fit, then looks down at the kleenex...blood. Something wasn't right

Stuffing the napkin product in his pocket he decided to put on a brave face and go pick the light of his life Barbara Gordon up from school. She’d help him relax till his Doctors appointment next week

Nine year old Barbara opens the back car door and climbs in

“Hi grandpa.” She smiles leaning over the seat to plant a kiss on his cheek “Did you make any snacks at home? I’m starving.”

Nathan smiled, he almost always prepared a small snack for his growing grandauter to have when she returned from school. But today he had felt so ill and afraid due to coughing up blood that he completely.forgotten be had planned to make a her-her favorite snack of homemade nacho.

”I thought we’d get ice cream” be spoke looking back at the girl in the rearview mirror as he pulled out of the driveway

She laughed lightly he freckles doing a little dance when her nose scrunched up. He adored her freckles “Grandpa it’s only Tuesday. We only get ice cream on Friday’s.”

He shrugged “Who says we gotta play by the rules.” He winked

Barbara smiled at him

The following year Nathan Gordon passes away from cancer. He’s surrounded by his daughter Hannah, her husband and their children along with his son and Barbara.

Barbara Gordon sat in the office chair of her fathers office. Since her grandfathers recent passing her dad had yet to make arrangements for a new childcare provider.

Not that she needed a babysitter. She wasn’t a baby. She was 10. Besides the past couple months her grandpa had been so weak she basically took care of herself anyways

Her dad had been gone for a while. Where to? she didn’t know. He never told her anything anyways.

She sighed and continued drawing random doodles on the piece of copy paper she’d been using for the past 30 minutes to occupy her time.

The door opened. Her dad stepping in. But he wasn’t alone . A boy with dark hair, shorter than her but probably around her age stood at his side. This she knew wasn’t common. Very rarely did her father handle children personally like this at work. The boy was looking down sadly.

“Why don’t you take a seat son” her father waved to the pair of seats that sat infront of his desk. The boy nodded then moved and took a seat in one of the chairs

“Barbara this is Richard. He’s 10 like you. Why don’t you keep him company while I make some phone calls in the hall.” Her dad informed

She nodded and watched him walk out, the office door closing behind him

After a moment of Richard not looking up, Barbara moved and switched seats to the available one beside him

“I’m Barbara, how are you Richard?” She asked

He shrugged

“Not much of a talker Huh? It’s okay I’ll talk. I’ve been bored out of my mind all night. My dad thinks I need a babysitter but I don’t. I mean I’ve literally been sitting in this office by myself all night anyways so tell me what the difference would be if I was sitting at my home all night alone?”

Silence

“I’ll tell ya, nothing. I finished all my homework within 30 minutes of being here. My grandpa had me on a strict routine. If dad was ever around when I got home from school the past 5 years he’d know I always finish my school work promptly. What grade are you in Richard?”

“Can you call me Dick?” He spoke softly

Barbara grinned “He speaks....uhh sure I guess. Like I was saying my grandpa. He knew, he always said I should skip a grade. Grandpa knew more about me then my dad.”

Dick looked up at her “I’m in 4th grade. You talk a lot” a small smile played on the boys lips. Although his blue eyes were still filled with saddness

Barbara flashed him a smile back “Sorry my grandpa always said I talked a lot when I was nervous and you being so quiet kinda brought it out.”

Dick nodded “You and your grandpa are close? You’ve already talked about him 3 times in the past 10 minutes”

Barbara inhaled a breath at the mention “We were he Umm. He died last month.”

Dick looked down again “Oh”

She nodded “First time someone close to me has ever died. Have ugh have you ever lost someone. Maybe you could help me, give me some advice.”

Dick was silent “I’ve lost someone. But I don’t have advice.”

Barbara tilted her head “Who did you loose?”

He took a deep breath “My parents.” He squinted his eyes

Her eyes widened she couldn’t imagine loosing her father. Loosing her grandfather was tearing her up inside as it was “When?” She wondered. They were only 10. How young was he when he became an orphan?

“Tonight-they were murdered. I saw it.” He choked

Barbara’s jaw dropped. That explained why he was here “Dick, I’m so sorry!”

Tears began to flow slowly from the boys eyes

Not knowing what to do, the young girl moved her hand grabbing the fellow boys hand and lacing their fingers. To her relief the boy squeezed hers tighter. Letting her know that the small movement was just the right amount of comfort he needed at that moment. Together the two adolescents sat holding hands. Tears slowly streaming down their faces. Finding comfort in their newfound friendship and grieving their recently lost loved ones

[jjkpls]

crayons ‘set’ (PG)

> genre : fluffy fluff, light angst, comedy

> pairing : kim namjoon x reader

> words : 3.8k

> warnings : none (except a rusty quill)

>Y/N, a primary school teacher, is way too soft for the quiet, timid new child in her class. Little did she know, the adult version, who engendered this cutie, is even more charming.

> prior

> next

The principle of balance. 

It’s a curious concept. Like most of the things that turn people into different versions of themselves, just from an unconscious force brought to light by the sheer inner sense of competition that inhabits every single person. It’s quieter in some people. Feel non-existent sometimes. But it’s here, dormant, just waiting on the right trigger to awaken. 

You didn't think you would see it in Jimmy. The little boy lacks completely self-confidence and affirmation. But a voice and a stance, easily remarkable, end up fitting him.

It turns out that you witness it quite quickly after the Progress has started. And it manifests in the most adorable and comical of ways. 

It’s been a few weeks since you've met his dad. There wasn’t much to talk about with him yet. Every day, longer lingerings of the gaze, less tucking away in the far back of the rest of the group, more definite wordless participations during class -nodding and clapping along. The progress you've been wholly satisfied with but nothing so drastically different that you thought necessary to call his father in for. 

Nothing absolutely astonishing. Therefore you didn’t call and what a surprise this one Thursday afternoon turns out to be when he appears at your class’s doorway.

He’s wearing very casual clothes, a simple light linen shirt and some distended jeans to pair, sneakers and his hair -you've only seen neatly tucked to the side- is floating about his forehead, freshly washed and devoid of any wax. It’s a pleasant surprise, especially with the evident appearance of calm and quiet tranquillity he’s carrying. 

This man looks rather handsome when he’s on vacation, stressless and well-rested and seemingly content, you note.

“Mr Kim?”

He looks up from his son he is holding the hand of, eyes wide and bewildered as he stares a little. You chuckle, confused but amused. He’s the one paying you a surprise visit but he’s shocked when you do talk to him?

“Is it bad timing? I can come back another day...” From the look he’s giving you, or more accurately, barely sparing you, body already aiming for the corridor, you wonder if you should return the question. It'd be cruel though, to tease, therefore you choose to simply shake your head and insist on him walking in. And then it happens, the man can’t take a step inside, for some reason. He’s just paralysed, looking like a million contradicting thoughts are fighting inside his brain and he simply cannot make out the best option, if he would or not step in; and it’s Jimmy who takes the decision for him. Puffing his cheeks out in annoyance, he pushes against his father's leg, small hands pulling the bigger one towards him. It’s like watching a tiny mouse trying to drag along a giraffe. It has little to no physical effect until there’s an aggravated tiny whine of “appa”. He moves, at last, letting himself stood in front of me before Jimmy lets go of his hand. 

He gives you a look you're not sure you interpret well. Dark eyes all serious, attention loud, he seems to be intrusting his father to you. A gentle smile, hiding your teeth biting back a hilarious grin, sends him away towards the very back of the room. Taking a seat next to the bookshelf, it takes Jimmy a few minutes only after you've diverted your attention from him to grab an image book and start going through it patiently.

He's so comfortable. Almost too comfortable. He looks strange, like that. Strange because different from usual but still, oddly, it fits him well. It's like a projection, a little vision of a future little boy, easygoing, at peace with himself and his environment, that won't take too long to be born again.

And it's now the dad who's acting weird. He's standing on his two never-ending legs, the tip of his fingers toying nervously with the button of his vest, his mouth keeps teasing, opening slightly, as if about to spill a word, only to shut itself right up, a lightly aggravated sigh following soon after. It happens quite a couple of times until you get tired of waiting. Tired of the eyes avoiding you, the tension heavy for no particular reason that you could decipher, you ring him awake with an abrupt overexaggerated clearing of your throat.

"Mr Kim?" He's confounded again, caught off guard somehow. "Did you mean to discuss something with me?" It's hard to make an adult talk, you realise. Sometimes children can be difficult. Put aside Jimmy's case, sometimes children are like that. Making them want to share, especially when they are at that age where they can't express themselves and their ideas as well as they wish they could, frustration, laziness at times can get the better of them and having a fairly constructed conversation with them is like pulling teeth out of a very adamant, unwilling person. But you manage. Adults, on the other hand, have never been too much of your cup of tea. There's a reason why you chose to spend the better part of your weeks with children instead of adults. You're not that terrible at getting along with them, you do it pretty well, honestly. But the reason is probably the fact that you're not difficult. You're convenient as a person, always willing to help, always trying to be positive, you do not get in people's way and most of the times, it's enough to make it through.

You don't deal with adults the way you deal with children. With great pleasure and passion, you insert yourself into your pupils' existence, try to leave a mark and help them have the better, feel the better, be the better. Adults, you don't get too involved. They sound complicated, complexed, too many compromises, too many facets. You know because you are one too.

And Mr Kim, looking all nervous and troubled seem the very embodiment of this bias you have. He looks some sort of troubles. Probably nothing that terrible. He appears too childish for it to be that grave. But he's serious about it, about the anxiety, the struggle, the uneasiness he's feeling, you can tell, just from the way he hasn't been able to look at you in the eyes since he appeared in your class. Still, whatever it is, will cost some of your time, and with that, might clog up some very much needed space you require in this busy head of yours.

It's happened before. A new neighbour trying to get closer to you, maybe because they've just moved in the city, didn't know anyone, and you looked friendly enough and they needed someone to listen to the exhaustive list of all the things that made them leave their hometown -even though, you don't necessarily care for any of it. Or a colleague, trying to get you involved in their office dramas, simply because people need the attention, the feeling of importance and support.

Quite frankly, you've never been interested in any of them. Adults sound like too much work, especially given the fact that, as filled with flaws as they are, they are a pain, and often impossible, to fix. And they say things they don't mean. And they want things that they don't need. Their words and their acts hardly ever match. They're for the most part unrecoverable and unfixable, and you don't want any of it.

But Mr Kim and his dimples -invisible to the eye at the moment, but that you realise marked your brain so strongly you can picture them exactly where they should be winking- are piquing your interest. You're ninety-nine per cent sure it is not about Jimmy but you'd like to know. Never mind that curiosity killed the cat.

“Yes, uh-“ Clearing of the throat, scratching of the neck and more clearing of the throat. “about last time...”

You're lost. For a second, your body freezes to give your brain its full capacity to wreck through the whole place and retrieve a memory that seems to have been lost somehow, somewhere. You have no idea what time he is referring to. 

He seems so invested, so intensely experiencing his emotions you're left shocked and deeply embarrassed to not remember something that had that effect on him yet didn’t leave a single trace on you. 

He insists then, having to face your transparent confusion. The more you stand in pure oblivion, the more awkward he gets. Stuttering more, an accent, very deep, adding rough edges to his voice, colouring his words with new shades that you've never heard before.

“Mr Kim-“

“Namjoon.”

“I’m sorry?” 

“No, it’s me, I am, I’m-“ You will, later, feel terrible for it. It’s undeniable. But right now, facing this grown-ass man, usually so collected now decomposing in the most adorable red-cheeked boyish thing, you can only start laughing. It renders him speechless which in a way is almost an improvement and when you finally can restrain the giggles from bubbling straight from your belly, you start again,

“Maybe take a deep breath, take your time.” You bite your lip down to the blood, poorly concealing your grin when he actually does it. “What did you mean by ‘last time’?” You're mortified to ask, honestly, persuaded that you should know but at this point, it’s pretty mean but you don’t think you can embarrass yourself that much in front of him, not when he’s been such a mess himself. 

“When we met. When I came to talk about my son.” Calmly, diligently he answers. Like a good boy answering his teacher’s question, a shadow of worry covering his usually sharp gaze. 

“Oh, what about it?” Curiosity melts with confusion as you refrain yourself from pressing him further into elaborating faster, eager as you are to understand. You were sure he was not going to talk about him. 

“I’d been a bit much and I wanted to apologise personally to you.”

Been a bit much? 

“In what sense? I’m not sure I understand.”

“It’s just- I poured myself and our luggage on you when you’re- I know you care about my son but I shouldn’t have, I don’t know, I shouldn’t have-“

You hate cutting people off. It’s a terrible habit you are constantly trying to teach your students to drop. But here he is, struggling to express an idea that irks you strongly. Is he able to put the words he needs? Does he even know them in his own mother tongue or do they even exist? Maybe what he's trying to express are pure emotions. Unease coming from a heart shameful for having shown itself vulnerable to a stranger. You'd know about this feeling. You've experienced it plenty of times, throughout all your life. Even if it wasn’t in the form of you stripping your heart off to someone, like he did, simply showing that you cared gave you the same sense of vulnerability, of terrifying exposure you've always had a hard time dealing with. 

You hate the idea that he regrets it, especially with you. At that time, you could tell he had words to pour out. You were glad, you were even enchanted to be the one helping out no matter how small you just assumed your impact to have been. And now, he's trying to say that he regrets it?

“You said you were thankful to have someone to talk to.”

“I did say that.” He mumbles, pressing the pad of his fingers against his closed eyes. 

“Then don’t regret it. I don’t want you to be embarrassed about this, seriously. I had parents do way more, actually embarrassing, things in my career. Don’t even worry about it.” He’s thinking it over. You can tell your words have little to no impact on his bruised ego. “I’m not sure how appropriate it is for me to say that but if you need it, whenever in the future, don’t hesitate. I’m not a psychologist, but I’m just- I’m willing to listen if it can help. I mean me or anyone else, really, you should in general just share. It’s important. You don’t want Jimmy to mimic such bad habits like so, holding in and all.” You may be talking too much. The man just looks so eager to hear those words and it spurs you on. “You really shouldn’t feel embarrassed. I can understand the feeling, where it comes from, but it’s pointless with me.”

“You’re really kind.” You give a smile, only. It’s not much but you're pretty sure it’s the genuineness tinting it that renders it enough. Again, he seems surprised. As bewildered as last time but undoubtedly convinced. “I’m glad he has you as his teacher.”

Your cheeks burn intensely. You don’t know how conscious he is of his words. If he realises that he perfected the art of flattery and of slipping people in his pocket. He really did. Especially when he’s leaning slightly towards you, gaze intense and on you now that the embarrassment has vanished for the most part and he can bear looking at you, seemingly hanging out for any other words you may have in stock.

There’s nothing left for you to say though. It takes you quite a few attempts to skim over your brain, trying to formulate a sentence, any word, but you come out completely empty. You can’t even stutter a thank you from how utterly flustered you're feeling. 

Therefore you choose the easy way out. Waltzing on your heels to give him your back, your hands reaching to the barely messy top of your desk to pretend they’re busy. You believe yourself to have been sleek enough but apparently not so -maybe it’s the fact that you're just picking up stuff to put them exactly where they belong, at the exact same place. 

“Was I inappropriate? I’m really sorry, Mrs ___. Sometimes I just talk too much and I don’t realise that maybe I shouldn’t.”

“Please stop apologising. It’s fine, you’re fine. You’re just- You saying nice things that you mean,” You stumble upon the last words as if maybe you're getting over your own head to just assume and claim so loud that he must mean the sweet things he said to you but that bashful yet adorable expression he's wearing, with the eyes a bit wide and the bottom lip munched, fill you with a regain of confidence, “can’t be an issue. It’s just unexpected and- I mean you’re fine you can say whatever you want. I mean I’m not asking for more compliments, I’m just saying-“

It’s terribly unnerving. You don’t know what impression you're giving off as a teacher. Lacking so much elocution, scrambling to form sentences and turning into a messy, overwhelmed emotional mess. 

“I don’t mind giving you more compliments, Mrs ___.” Here comes that curious principle of balance again. You're half-dying of mortification and he seems to be having fun, smiling kindly, with a hint of something else -amusement, maybe even smudginess. 

Is he flirting with me? There’s no way he’s flirting. I think I’m losing my mind. 

“It’s Miss, actually.” You swear to yourself, silently, that you're not flirting back -assuming he is, in fact, doing just that- and you just mean to be called by an accurate name. 

“Oh.” He almost gasps. Looking shocked and you don’t understand what’s going on anymore. Was he really not flirting? Why does he look so shaken as if you misinterpreted his intentions and now he’s misinterpreting yours and think you're getting over your head -because you're not, you were not flirting!

“I’m not flirting with you, I’m just clarifying!” 

You hate this whole conversation. You hate yourself, your life and anything and everything that may or may not have led you to this tragic instant.

You're positive you screamed a little. You get confirmation of just that from the tiny mop of hair bouncing up in your peripheral vision, as Jimmy gives you two a slightly concerned, curious look. 

The tension is blatant. It's a mixture of irritation, of anxiety, of embarrassment. You couldn't have messed up any worse than you did and you positively want to simply die, right about now.

The mere thought that you'll have to live with this humiliation not only for the whole day ahead, blatantly hanging out at the back of your head, sometimes probably too close to your consciousness for any sense of comfort to ever inhabit you again, but for your entire life makes you want to throw yourself out the window. You decide not to indulge in the pressing pulsion only because you're on the ground floor, therefore, it would be pointless if not even more humiliating.

Mr Kim, somehow, helps a little. By not wearing a mask of pure revolt, revulsion or aggravation. He stares soundly, expression not giving off much to work with. Just enough to understand he is not mad, simply lost in his own thoughts he doesn't seem too keen on sharing.

A spark of sensibility blooms suddenly in your brain. You're so thankful for it, you jump right on it, grab it with your two hands and start again, as if nothing happened, as if you haven't just humiliated yourself in front of this man (and his son), "Jimmy has made a lot of progress, I've noted."

Mr Kim blinks a few times, unnaturally so. "Yeah? I mean, yes, I've noticed too, actually." He keeps staring with the same obnoxiously loud thoughts running in his mind. His brain is on full activity mode. It's obvious. And he doesn't care too much about talking about his son right this second (even though he doesn't seem to care much about sharing what's going through that private head of his either).

How disappointing. You sincerely thought the one subject that matters the most to him would successfully tear the attention away from you but you're a fool. Apparently, even the cute little bean of a son he has can't divert the attention from the humiliation you've just submitted yourself to.

"Anyway, I won't hold any more of your time, you must have work to attend to."

"Actually I'm not working today. I have the day off." Your lip now too sensitive, you attack the inner part of your cheek with your teeth -thankfully you've turned your back to him again, feigning observing with great attention something through the windows- to stop yourself from screeching. It takes him so long, so fucking long for him to decide, finally, that maybe he should leave. The longest dozens of seconds of your life. Staring outside, picturing him behind you, probably watching you wondering to himself how you can be so lame and how he could have thought you a good fit to be his precious son's teacher. "Ah, I should leave anyway. Your class is about to start?"

"Ah, yes. Well, thanks for passing by. I hope you rest well." It's the least genuine you've been with this man, and anyone for the matter, in so long. Your heart and mind are in such a shamble you don't actually remember the reason for his coming and if, really, anything positive came out of this conversation.

It's ridiculous how you feel, all bothered and nervous, aggravated with him for making you feel so flustered. You give him the most convincing fake smile you own, not taking the time to check if he buys it as you don't dare lingering your attention on him for any longer than the blink of the eye takes.

When he leaves, only after having scattered a bunch of smooches on Jimmy's face, you find yourself breathing again. It's like you've been holding in for so long, you're getting dizzy at the taste of oxygen again, heart beating furiously in your chest, sweating all over.

Fuck, that was painful.

You're such an idiot sometimes. Why do you have to be such a fucking idiot? It's not like you're asking much in this life, honestly. You're not aiming at any groundbreaking, universe shaking novelties. You're staying in your line, trying to be good and do good in your own little world. Not asking much, not taking without beforehand being offered. Is it really that much to ask to not be absolutely humiliated in front of one of your kids' parent, who happens to be a stupidly handsome man? (Yes, he is. You can admit that -to yourself. It's probably the reason why your brain stopped working properly, by the way.) You're cursed. I'm cursed, I'm cursed, I'm cur-

"Mish?" The quietest little call comes from the quietest little boy. Standing a secure meter away from you, his peculiar big black eyes staring with a silent demand in them, Jimmy waits patiently for your attention to be given to him. You offer it to him with great enthusiasm. Because between self-pitying your dumb ass and celebrating the first-ever-self-willingly-uttered word to you by this boy, the choice is not even to be pondered over.

"Yes, Jimmy?" He's holding in one hand your crayons he slowly tends your way, careful not to spill them all from his tiny fist. In the other one, there's a paper he's drawn on. Your eyes instinctively are driven to it, curious to see what he decided to draw when he felt comfortable enough to do it. He catches the line of your attention, evidently, and it takes him a second but then, finally, he decides you're allowed to see it. It's a too accurate copy of the ugly cat you made for him the other day. The colours are different, the traits a bit shakier yet, completely unbiasedly, you have to admit that he somehow made it look better. "That's a very pretty cat, Jimmy."

He looks at it, ruminates your words, trying to make sense of them, verify their accuracy. Suddenly he seems to decide that you're right and giving you another candid look, he returns to his table where he proceeds to carefully slip the drawing in his bag.

You realise your eyes are filled up with prickling tears while you sniff. You're not sure how much is due to this, how much the terrible, terrible encounter with his dad worked your emotions so intensely you're so sensitive now. In any case, it turns out for the better. It's this cute little cat that ends up making you and your day ahead feel better. You're so thankful for it.

Again, you know you're too involved but how are you supposed to do any different with them? Maybe it wasn't a punishment earlier. Maybe it was the storm before the ray of sunshine. It's probably the case. You're less aggravated, suddenly. Less vexed and probably more lenient on talking to this man again given, not the ray of sunshine, but actually rainbow that he may have helped cause to colour your day.

A/N: thanks for reading 💜

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

Work It Out

After a drunken fight with your dad, Sebastian, you go to your uncle’s house where he forces the two of you to work it out.

-

           “Jesus, babe, just…” Your boyfriend was doing his best to get you back into your bedroom from the fire escape outside your window, but he wasn’t doing enough. You were so drunk that you could barely swing your leg over. You just wanted to sleep. But your boyfriend had to sneak you back in because it was him who snuck you out.

           “I’m tryingggg,” you slurred. He laughed and physically picked you up, carrying you through the window. He set food on the ground and put you back down, helping to steady you. “Well, my dad isn’t here. Maybe he didn’t find out.”

           “Really, Y/n? Think again.” Your father’s voice was cross as he sat in your desk chair, arms crossed against his chest.

           “Oh, fantastic,” you said. That was probably the clearest sentence you’d said in a while. You were drunk enough that consequences didn’t seem that bad, but you were also drunk enough to smart off to him when you normally never would.

           “Alex, I called you an Uber. It should be downstairs. Text Y/n and I’ll know you got home safe. And use the front door, not the fire escape.” Your boyfriend’s cheeks flushed and he let you go.

           “Sure. Sorry, Mr. Stan.” Your dad’s eyes softened a little bit.

           “Thank you for making sure my girl got home. But next time she decides to try and sneak out of the house, don’t help her.”

           “Roger that.” Your boyfriend walked out of your room and you soon heard the front door shut, leaving you and your dad. You sat down on your bed while all of that was going on, removing your high heels, and you un-zipped the back of your dress. You grabbed a t-shirt from your dresser and pulled it on, then took your dress off to reveal the shorts you had on underneath. You knew there was a fight coming, but you wished it could wait until tomorrow.

           “What were you even thinking, Y/n?” Your dad asked you. His voice was quiet. His fingers rubbed at his temples and you realized you must have woken him up. He had a flight at 9 the next morning, so he should have been asleep already. It was only 11, but it felt so much later now that you were completely and totally intoxicated.

           “I was thinking I got invited out to a party and I wanted to go?” You said, curling up in a blanket you kept folded at the foot of your bed. Your dad kept the house absolutely freezing cold, and for what reason you would never know. Your dad sighed.

           “I don’t even know what to do here. First you sneak out, when you could’ve just asked me. Then you have the audacity to sneak back in and think I won���t catch you when you’re drunk as hell. Which, by the way, when did you start drinking, because I must have missed that too.” His voice rose and fell and you could just hear how angry he was with you. Even drunk you felt guilty. Sober you would have felt so guilty you could cry yourself to sleep.

           “I’m sorry, Dad,” you responded.

           “Sorry’s not good enough. Do you know how dangerous it is to be out there at night?”

           “Dad, we live on the Upper East Side. If Blair Waldorf didn’t get kidnapped and raped I won’t.” Your dad scoffed at the mention of your favorite show, one he happened to have been in.

           “And that’s besides the point. What you did was so dangerous, Y/n. If you called me, I would’ve picked you up, because what agreement do we have?”

           “If I ever need you, you’re there. No questions asked.”

           “And this would’ve counted. I would’ve come to get you in a heartbeat, but you can’t just sneak out like that. It’s one thing if we’re in Atlanta or California, it’s a whole other thing in Manhattan.” Your vision became clearer and clearer as you started sobering up, but everything your dad was saying fell on deaf ears. You weren’t listening because you were so exhausted.

           “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

           “Oh, don’t do that, I know you’re not sorry,” he rolled his eyes. You never called him Daddy unless you wanted something or you wanted him off your back, and this was one of the latter.

           “I am!” You replied.

           “No, you’re not. Otherwise you wouldn’t have done something so stupid in the first place. I’m so disappointed in you, Y/n. This is why we have rules in place, this is why we have the no questions asked agreement. I’m half tempted to cancel my flight and stay here because you obviously can’t be left on your own for a night.”

           “I promise, I won’t do anything stupid.” If he thought you were serious, he didn’t care.

           “I don’t know if I can believe you.” You suddenly had that feeling in your stomach, and you stood up. “Where do you think you’re going?”

           “To throw up two water bottles of Malibu,” you responded dryly, walking into the bathroom attached to your bedroom. You barely made it to the toilet before you threw up. Instead of holding your hair back, your dad chose the route of going to get you some water.

           “Jesus Christ, babe. This is so unlike you.” You shrugged and picked your head up, thinking you were done for the time being.

           “I know. I’m stupid. I know,” you repeated over and over, accepting the water that he gave you.

           “Alright. Here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re gonna go to bed, I’m going to think about a punishment, and you’re going to take it when you wake up tomorrow at approximately 6 AM to drive me to the airport at 6:30. Got it?” You gave him a thumbs up. “I didn’t raise you to be like this.”

           “You barely even raised me at all,” you snapped back without even meaning to. “You’re always gone, remember?”

           “So you’re saying this is all my fault?”

           “Yeah, buddy!” You replied with a small giggle. “You’re on the right track now.” If you had looked at him, you would have seen the tears in his eyes. Was it really his fault? Was he really so absent from your life that he caused you to act out the first chance you got? He sighed, deciding just to leave you alone.

           “Alright. Just… We’ll talk tomorrow morning.” He slumped out of your room, feeling dejected, angry, and upset as hell because he’d never even thought it could be his fault before. But you pointed out the obvious; if he wasn’t gone all the time, maybe you wouldn’t feel the need to get his attention like this.

           Something inside of you just said fuck it. You were sober enough to walk to the other side of your room, change clothes, and grab your phone charger and wallet. You looked at your phone map for a minute – your uncle Chris was in town, at least for a few days, and he was supposed to take you out to lunch tomorrow anyway.

           Are you up? You texted him. He responded within a second that he was. So it was decided. You had never closed the fire escape window, so you could go back out the way you came in. Your wallet had pepper spray attached to it and you flicked it open, ready to spray anyone who dared mess with you at this time of night. Thankfully, most people in that area of New York just minded their own business unless you looked like you had something valuable. But you, barely sixteen, in a sweatshirt and shorts, carrying a wallet and pepper spray at 11 PM, didn’t look like you had anything of value to yourself even.

           You were halfway to Chris’s hotel when you passed the block with the police precinct, and as if it was on cue, blue and white lights lit up the street. You looked around – you were the only person on the street, so they must have been referring to you. You sighed.

           “I’m sorry, Dad,” you said out loud, rubbing your eyelid as a piece of mascara found its way into your eye. An officer got out of the cruiser and walked over to you with a flashlight.

           “Ma’am, can I ask you what you’re doing on the streets at this time of night?” You sighed. Were you about to lie to the NYPD because you didn’t want to go home? Yes, yes you were. This entire night was dumb, but this was probably the dumbest thing you could’ve done.

           “I was at a friend’s apartment, I’m just going back to my uncle’s hotel,” you explained. “I have pepper spray.” The officer scoffed.

           “It’s not safe for you to be walking around here. Where are you from?”

           “I’m from here, but I live half the time in Atlanta.” You weren’t lying completely there – you did have a Georgia driver’s license, your primary address was all listed in Georgia because that was where you went to middle school because your dad was still working for Marvel at that point.

           “And you’re with your uncle, you said?”

           “Yeah, my parents are divorced.” A lie. Your parents weren’t divorced because they’d never been together. You were the product of a meaningless relationship that your dad spent your entire life trying to make up to you.

           “Alright. Well, we can’t have you walking the streets out here at night, so would you like us to go ahead and bring you back to your uncle’s? How old are you, sixteen?”

           “Sixteen,” you responded. “I can call my uncle now.”

           “You can just get into the back seat of that car.” You nodded and started heading toward the cop car, calling Chris. He answered immediately.

           “Hey, sweetie, what are you doing up?” He asked you. You could tell he was up still – he was always a night owl.

           “I was walking to yours and the police caught me. Can they drive me over?”

           “Yeah, sure. I’ll meet you in the lobby. It seems like you have something to talk about, don’t you?”

           “Yeah. I’m sorry.” You opened the door to the car and got inside.

           “It’s okay. I’ll see you in a few.” You told the cop the address of Chris’s hotel, checking your phone to make sure your dad hadn’t called you or texted you. Nothing. He probably didn’t even know you were gone. That was the con of living on separate floors in an old brownstone – if you left he might not even know. Half the time you just yelled out to figure out if he was there because you couldn’t tell otherwise.

           “I’ll get out and walk you in,” the officer said when you arrived at the hotel. You saw Chris standing in the brightly lit lobby, looking down at his phone, and raised his hand when he saw you.

           “Thank you, officer, for getting her back to me,” Chris said, shaking hands with the cop that had brought you over. They chatted for a minute when the officer recognized him, but they let you go without even asking for any kind of proof of anything whatsoever. As soon as the officer got in the car and left, Chris nearly dragged you over to the elevator.

           “Ow,” you groaned. You knew you were sobering up, but your body still felt loose.

           “What are you doing here? Your dad doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning.”

           “We got in a fight because I got drunk and he said some stuff and I said some stuff that I don’t remember, but it must have been really mean.” Chris sighed, pressing the elevator up, and when you got to the room you sat down in one of the chairs. It was a nice hotel, one he usually stayed at, so you were at least familiar with it.

           “You want some coffee?” He asked you, turning on the hotel’s small instant coffee maker. You nodded, running your hands through your hair. Your phone lit up with a call from your dad, and you didn’t answer. You didn’t know why you didn’t answer; because you were scared of him, because you didn’t want to talk to him, or maybe a combination of both. You just wanted to be with Chris right now – he always knew how to talk you down when you argued, and you knew he wouldn’t judge you for being drunk and stupid because he’d spent half of his teenage years doing the same thing.

           “Thanks,” you said as he handed you a hot cup of coffee a minute later. He sat beside you and rubbed your back, trying to warm you up from the freezing March weather.

           “Any reason why Seb’s calling you non-stop?”

           “Yeah,” you said. “He probably just realized I’m gone.” Chris sighed.

           “You can’t just run away in the middle of the night, half drunk, and not tell your dad. I’ll call him and…” Just as he was talking, there was a knock at his hotel room door. He sighed and stood up, confused as to who it could be, and when he opened the door, it was Sebastian. He opened the door wider for him to come in, and your dad just stared you down.

           “Really, Y/n?” He asked loudly.

           “Okay, you two, some rules. No yelling. You talk this out. I’m going down to the bar to catch the end of the hockey game. If I get a noise complaint, it’s all on you guys. Deal?” You both nodded and Chris left the room, leaving the two of you alone.

           “How’d you get here?” Your dad asked you, sitting down on the bed across from you. You offered him a sip of your coffee, which he took, and handed back to you.

           “A cop found me so I lied and said I was staying with Chris,” you admitted.

           “Well, at least it was a cop and not some rando. Babe, you can’t run away every time we get into an argument.”

           “I don’t even know why I did.” You took a sip of coffee and it warmed you up and woke you up at the same time, causing you to sit up a little straighter. He sighed, his head in his hands.

           “I didn’t mean anything of what I said back there. I was just aggravated that you snuck out. And I’m glad you were with your boyfriend, but still. You have to tell me where you’re going, that’s why we have that rule.”

           “I know. I get it.”

           “I thought you actually ran away ran away.”

           “I just came here because I knew he’d let me stay with him until you were gone.” Your dad sighed. “I didn’t mean to say it was your fault. It’s not. It’s mine.”

           “No, you were right. I wasn’t here. For a lot of things. I was too busy being Bucky Barnes that I forgot how to be your dad, and I’m sorry. You needed a dad and that was the one role I didn’t know how to do.” You were both quiet for a minute. “Why don’t you come out to L.A. with me tomorrow? We can take a few days after my audition, just you and me, and we can get ourselves together.”

           “I’d like that.” It had been a long time since he’d taken you anywhere without the intention of just letting you stay in a hotel all day. “You work hard. And I know that. I just miss you. And I guess I just got mad because I miss you.”

           “I miss you too, babe. Come here.” You stood up at the same time he did and he wrapped you in a hug. He could still smell the alcohol on your breath, but he paid no mind to it. He just hugged you tighter than he had in a long time. That was when the door opened again and Chris was standing there.

           “Oh, thank God, you worked it out. Seb, how’d you even know she was here?”

           “Would you believe me if I said I was coming to talk to you because I didn’t even know she was gone?” Chris chuckled.

           “Yeah, I actually would believe that.” Your dad laughed, letting you go finally.

           “Alright, we’re gonna head home. I’m taking her out to L.A. with me, but if you wanna use the house you’re welcome to take the guest room still.”

           “Thanks, man. And the both of you just need to learn how to talk to each other, because if I wasn’t here you’d probably still be in a screaming match.” You sniffled and gave Chris a hug, thanking him, and your dad called a car to come get the both of you.

           “By the way, water bottles full of Malibu? I know it’s clear, but you should really get a colored water bottle if you’re gonna do that.” You elbowed your dad, laughing for the first time in forever, and wiped away a tear that had been on your face.

A/N: So I ended up combining three requests with this, one where she sneaks in with her boyfriend, one where she goes to Chris’s after an argument, and one where she gets picked up by the police. I hope that’s okay with you guys, but I thought they all worked so well together that I might as well!

[beauty-grace-outer-space]

you mentioned something a little while back about trauma anniversaries? would you be comfortable explaining what it means and what its about?

Sure thing. 

So.. trauma anniversaries are complicated, and vary from person to person, but the general idea is that when one experiences a traumatic event (or events, plural, centered around a specific time period), the brain/body stores that information and (as with other PTSD reactions) sometimes has an uncontrollable and unpredictable response to it. 

“Many trauma survivors experience challenging “anniversary reactions,”  which are defined as ‘unique set[s] of unsettling feelings, thoughts or memories that occur on the anniversary of a significant experience.’ When a survivor finds themselves in the midst of a trauma anniversary, they often are forced to re-live feelings from the traumatic event, causing symptoms like increased anxiety, depression, trouble sleeping, loss of appetite, nightmares, and irritable outbursts.”

Our bodies hold on to trauma in an effort to protect us, but sometimes those signals get mixed and bad feelings get tied to a time period, which is not particularly useful in most cases. 

This time of year makes me a bit wonky in general, with the changing of the seasons and the temperature drop, but October is also an anniversary for an event that changed my life and dramatically impacted my mental health... and I didn’t realize that it was affecting me until I was already deep in it this go round. 

I hate talking about it like this, because of the age old dichotomy of “it wasn’t that bad” and “it was bad enough and it’s affecting me”. I’m still working on accepting this stuff without falling into the mental trap that I’m “whining about nothing” and that “other people have it worse”. They do. Someone always does. But that doesn’t mean that the stuff that’s happened to me isn’t bad. 

I don’t know how much information you’re looking for, or if you’re asking about my experience specifically, but I’m still a bit off so what the hell. 

I already have issues with fall and the beginning of the school year for various reasons that I won’t go into. So this time of year is always tricky. But...

For those who don’t already know, five years and fifteen days ago, I called my grandmother and she told me she was going to kill herself. I was the only one home, I had just turned 23 years old two weeks beforehand, she had told me she was having a hard time affording some things, and I had offered to make her an appointment with a therapist and with a new primary care physician and to pay for it all so she could keep taking her medication. 

I called to ask her what day might work for an appointment so I could take the time off work, pick her up, take her to lunch, and then drive her to the appointment, and she told me she was going to kill herself. She told me she had been saving up her pills, and that’s why she hadn’t been taking them. She told me she had discussed it with my grandfather, and that he knew and was ok with it, and they were going through their belongings so there would be “less for him to deal with” once she was gone and that she was “surprised I hadn’t caught on sooner”. 

I kept her on the phone, kept her talking on my cell, and grabbed the home phone to start calling anyone I could think of. My mom, my dad, my aunt (with whom I had only reconciled five days before-- big misunderstanding, but still a lot), my mom’s cousin... no one would answer. 

By the time my mom got home, I had been on the phone with my grandmother for over an hour, mid panic attack, and I was hyperventilating so hard I couldn’t see and I couldn’t stand. Your limbs go all tingly when you don’t retain enough carbon dioxide, and I remember trying to walk to her and collapsing. I gasped out an explanation, my mom took the reins, and we were able to get in touch with my aunt and get the necessary medical professionals on hand to give my grandmother a psychiatric evaluation and put her on a 72 hour hold. 

We were at the hospital until nearly 4 in the morning before a nurse told us that they legally couldn’t release my grandmother because the doctor had mandated a three day safety hold, and that we should go home and get some rest. By the time we made it home, there was a message on our answering machine that a county examiner had released her and there was nothing more they could do. 

I found out later, much later, that she had never stopped taking her meds. She’d never said a word to my grandfather. She had no intention of killing herself. She wanted a reaction from me, and she got one. She called my cousins and told them I was a liar. She called family members who have never even met me and told them how awful I am, and that I make things up for attention.

I waited a little over a week to call her. I recorded the call, so that I’d have proof if I needed it. It’s still on my harddrive somewhere. Two plus hours of her calling me a liar, telling me that conversation never happened, telling me that she’s ashamed of me, that she hopes no one in their right mind ever loves me because I’m a monster, that she pities my friends and anyone who has the misfortune of knowing me because I’ll stab them in the back too as soon as I want some attention. The list goes on and on. 

That continued for a while. Whether or not it’s true, when someone you love tells you things over and over again, you can’t help but wonder. 

I started having dreams that she was hitting me, and that people were letting her do it. I started having dreams that I was in a loving, committed relationship but came home one day to a seething partner who had just gotten off the phone with her and realized I was a worthless liar, and of them, too, turning abusive. I started having dreams that I was alone at the bottom of a deep, dark hole, and no one could hear me or try to get me out. 

She decided one day that we were going to pretend nothing had ever happened, and I was forced to play along. All the while she’d still call and say awful things to me, then show up at family gathering like nothing was wrong. She’d say one thing to me, another to my family, and call me a liar to my face and behind my back. She kept telling friends and family that I was being abusive and manipulative to her. 

It hit the point that I truly, genuinely couldn’t remember what she had said in that initial call, and I worried I had made it all up. Gaslighting at it’s finest. 

It’s taken years to realize it, but every interaction I had with her following that date has been either abuse or manipulation. She spent months and months refusing to speak to me unless it was to tell me how horrible I am, then like flipping a switch one day I came home and there was a gift on my front porch from her. She’d ease up for a while, then suddenly be awful again. My entire life, she had always been the epitome of a perfect grandma... she’d take me on outings, buy me little gifts, bake with me at the holidays, sing songs with the grandkids, loved playing with us, we’d talk for hours on the phone, they came to dinner frequently. And now... it’s like a veil has been lifted and she’s unrecognizable.

I tried to maintain a relationship with her. She screamed at everyone at Easter a few years back that her silverware was more important to her than a relationship with me. I kept trying. She told a lawyer that my mom and I had “stolen her medical records” and were “forcing her to have medical procedures against her will”. I kept trying. She threatened to send a police officer to our house, accusing me of stealing. I kept trying. 

And finally, last fall, I called to wish her a happy birthday, she began a tangent, and I realized I was so tired. I asked her outright if she wanted a relationship with me. She told me she couldn’t be bothered to think about it. I haven’t spoken to her since. 

That one phone call cost me so, so much. I lost my relationship with my grandmother and my grandfather, by extension. Other family members have questioned if I’m lying to them, or if I made things up. I’ve questioned if I made things up. 

In the midst of all of this, my father also completely shifted and I don’t know why. He started picking fights with me, almost constantly. If I tried to change the subject, I was too stupid to have a discussion. If I stayed silent, I clearly knew I was wrong. If I said anything in reply, I was lying. He throws things, when he’s mad. He kicks things. He used to punch walls. My mom has since said to me that if she had any idea that he would turn into this person, she wouldn’t have married him. Sometimes he’s great, sometimes he’s awful. I never know which version I’ll be dealing with. 

I’ve spent nearly five straight years in therapy trying to deal with this. My original goal was not to hate my grandmother, or my father. It had to adapt to not hating myself because of what they said to me. 

So October is hard. Because October is when my mind and body unconsciously remember things changing. Relationships I’d always counted on turned abusive. Nothing I said or did was safe. It’s dangerous. 

I blew past the actual anniversary just feeling sort of... jittery. I’ve spent a few weeks feeling withdrawn and anxious and not knowing why. I had a noticeable uptick in old thought patterns and intrusive thoughts about self worth, self harm, etc. 

Whether or not it’s logical, whether or not it makes sense... my self preservation has locked onto this time of year as unsafe, and it falls into old patterns in an attempt at protection. Old patterns include anxiety, difficulty eating regularly, issues with self worth, withdrawing from others, emotions very close to the surface, and a few other things. 

And that’s where I’m at. 

I’m ok, and I’ll be ok. I’ve got some experience dealing with this under my belt now, and I still see my therapist regularly. I’m talking to her next week. At the moment, I’m just trying to take care of me however it makes sense, and not doing anything dangerous or dumb. 

So... that’s what I mean by trauma anniversary. 

[imalifegen89]

A Legacy Left Behind - Chapter - 7 - When the Past Unfurls - Part I

Rating: Mature

Category: M/M

Fandoms: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1, Hawaii Five-0 (2010)

Relationship: Steve McGarrett/John Sheppard

Characters: Steve McGarrett, John Sheppard, Danny "Danno" Williams, Evan Lorne, Bates (Stargate), Laura Cadman, Alicia Vega, Kono Kalakaua, Adam Noshimuri, PO Higgins (OC), Samantha "Sam" Carter, Jack O'Neill, John McGarrett, Dr. Lam, Catherine Rollins, Wo Fat, Original Goa'uld Character(s), Original Characters

Additional Tags: Action/Adventure, Action & Romance, Military, Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Violence, Character Bashing, Not Catherine Rollins Friendly, No DADT, Swearing

Summary :

"Sure John, I'll call," He promised as the SUV came to a stop in front of them. He and Danny both got in and seated themselves. He then gave a short wave to John who was still standing there by the exit watching them leave. Steve hoped what John had told him would be true, that his dad would be able to make it through. He was not ready to lose his only remaining parent. ‘God please, not again! Not so soon ...' His mind was repeating the mantra as Steve let out a weary sigh and closed his eyes."

Steve will find out about what happened to his father, who was involved in it, why it happened and so much more than he ever bargained for...

Hello All, Here's the next part of the series, and it's a two-parter. There are some plot twists on the way and hope you all will enjoy it.

Aethir - Thank you so much for your hard work and for finding some time to help me with editing, commenting, and giving out very helpful tips and suggestions. Idea bouncing and snark is always so much fun with you!!!

Part 1 - Honolulu General

Honolulu General Hospital

Hawaii

The six-hour-long flight in the old and noisy Globemaster had left both SEALs travel-weary and sleep-deprived. Neither had talked much during the flight, trying to catch a few hours of shut-eye, but among the jarring engine noise, the comms chatter, the endless shuddering, and the training maneuvers, that had been impossible. At the end of the flight, they had thanked the crew and disembarked with relief, each carrying their single duffel.

They were both on leave and therefore in civilian clothes, and instead of the usual armory they carried around, they only had their handguns and with extra clips in their bags. Although they were only making a visit to the hospital, neither of them was willing to go completely unarmed.

A short taxi ride brought them to the hospital from Hickam closer to the midday visiting hours. They figured if needed, they could wait in the hospital until they could see John McGarrett.

……….

"Hello, My name’s Steve McGarrett, I got a call last night about my father. Somebody named Curtis called me," said Steve, presenting his credentials to the male nurse manning the reception area of the Outdoor-Patient-Department. The nurse - L. Rider, according to his name tag - gave Steve and his ID a once over and started accessing his system.

"Yes, Mr. McGarrett, your father's been moved from the ICU. He’s in room 308. You can take that elevator to the left," he informed.

“Thanks.”

Steve and Danny both took off towards the given directions.

The room Steve's father was in wasn't hard to find. It was located on the third floor and the room had the number and the name 'John McGarrett' on a plaque clearly displayed. It also had 'Dr. Leonard T. Lester - Cardiologist' listed as his primary care physician.

"I'm going to go look around and find some coffee. Do you need anything?" Danny asked. He was going to give his friend some time with his dad before going in.

"Yeah sure, I could use some coffee.”

……….

During the six long hours he’d had to think about what happened, Steve’s mind had been busy contemplating some horrible scenarios. He hadn’t realized that he had been subconsciously bracing himself for the worst. Nobody in his family had any history of heart attacks and he didn't know what to expect, what to do or how to prepare. Being the trained planner that he was, Steve found the lack of knowledge rather unsettling.

What the nurse at the reception told him, gave him hope though. He theorized that since his dad's already been moved from the ICU to a regular room, his condition shouldn't be that bad.

Steve took a moment to compose himself, watching Danny as he walked away. Then he took a deep breath and knocked on the door before entering room 308.

……….

He stood still by the door to take the scene in.

His dad was lying on the bed and a white and blue hospital gown was peeking out from underneath the white blanket. There was a monitor attached to his chest and Steve could see the leads disappear through the opening of his gown. The apparatus was quiet and its screen indicated a steady rhythm while John McGarrett slept. Steve noticed there was an IV connected to his dad's left hand as well. He scrunched up his nose when the strong odor of antiseptics hit him in the face, contrasting starkly with the smell of gun oil and Old Spice aftershave he usually associated with his dad.

McGarrett senior was sleeping peacefully and didn't seem to be in any pain. Steve was content to let his dad be, preferring to let him wake up on his own. As he stepped further into the room, he saw a chair by the bed and lowered himself to it slowly, mindful not to make a sound. Then he placed his duffel bag on the floor and settled in to wait.

Maybe it was his instincts of being an active duty police officer - John McGarrett surfaced from his slumber knowing that there was somebody in the room with him, within a few minutes of Steve’s entrance. The slight change in the rhythm of the heart monitor alerted Steve to the fact. Not wanting to startle him, Steve leaned forward and addressed his father softly.

"Hey dad," he reached to touch his hand, the one without the IV needle.

"Steve!" His dad's eyes went wide, realizing his son was sitting by the bed. "What are you doing here?" John knew Steve was deployed and he was the last person he expected to see in the hospital this early. He hadn’t even been in here for 24 hours.

"The hospital called me and told me you had a heart attack," Steve explained. He was relieved to see that his dad was speaking clearly and wasn't showing any signs of disorientation or pain. In fact, he looked quite normal. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright," John smiled at the raised eyebrow he received from his son at that. So he elaborated. "Just a little tightness in my chest area. But the doctor says it's normal after an attack. Other than that, I really am feeling fine. To be honest, I didn't even know what it was. I only knew I had a heart attack when Dr. Lester told me this morning," He was more curious as to how his son got here so quickly. "Where were you when they called you?"

"Colorado Springs." Steve smiled. He couldn't really get into details about his deployment or his whereabouts other than that, but he was glad that he was in the States to make this trip.

"Hah, and you’re here already. That was quick,"

"Yeah, I got lucky and caught a transport.”

Steve was more than happy to just sit there and exchange pleasantries all day long. But he needed to know what happened first. He got up to go and fetch a glass of water for his father from the bedside table. "Dad, what happened?"

His dad took it and drank some water before handing it back to Steve. Then he turned on his bed to fully settle on his back. Steve put the glass away and leaned towards his dad, giving him his full, undivided attention.

"It was the weirdest thing, kid," said the senior McGarrett, frowning as he cast his mind back to the chain of events that led to his sudden health failure. “I was in that small grocery shop by the filling station near home. I had just finished filling up the tank on the truck and was getting some stuff for the weekend. I remember walking towards the counter to pay and that’s it - for the life of me, I can't remember having any pain or calling for help or anything. I was standing there one moment and was waking up on this bed the next.” He paused to take a deep breath and then exhale slowly. “Then there’s this fellow - Dr. Lester - is telling me how lucky I was to come back from a severe myocardial infarction with no visible damage to my heart,” he made a face, remembering his earlier conversation with the overly cheerful doctor who described the incident in vivid medical detail.

“How’d you get here?”

“He said that the shop owner called for emergency services and sent me here. Apparently, I coded on the way, but they managed to get my heart started again without much fuss. And now, here I am.” John finished recounting the incident.

Steve rubbed a hand across his face, trying to take it all in.

“I wouldn’t obviously know what to expect, it’s not like I’ve had a heart attack before - but I'd have thought that at least you get some kind of a warning sign, you know? Like breathing difficulties, chest pain or something,” McGarrett senior continued after a moment. “Not this going about your normal day-to-day business, and then a complete blackout, followed by waking up in a damn hospital bed - it just doesn't feel normal,” his frown deepened.

Steve didn’t say anything for a long while. He just took his time to sit there and watch his dad who seemed to be doing pretty much okay after going through such an experience. He was immensely relieved and was happy to take his time to enjoy the feeling, letting go of the worry and stress that had built up since the moment he’d received the call.

A knock on the door interrupted the comfortable silence in the room and Danny Williams entered carrying two styrofoam cups of coffee.

“Ah there you are, Cap, how are you feeling?” He asked, handing over a coffee to Steve and coming closer to stand near the bed railing.

“I’m feeling alright, considering,” John smiled crookedly. “Where’s my coffee, Williams?”

“Hey, I don't think coffee is on the approved list for you,” Danny grinned. He was glad to see the man looked healthy enough for someone who had just had a serious health scare, fit to be up and making demands. “Besides, this hospital swill is so bad it might just give you a different problem or three,” he sipped his coffee and grimaced theatrically to prove the point. “So when are they letting you out?”

“Don't know yet, my doctor is supposed to drop by any time now. I don't think I need to stay here any longer at all.” John stated confidently. He was not accustomed to sitting around on a bed all day, especially when he wasn’t feeling different from any other day.

“Let’s let the doctor decide that, yeah dad? As you said, this is the first time something like this has happened to you and they just might need to keep you under observation for a bit - just saying,” Steve cautioned.

He knew his dad and he could see the stubborn man was already planning on going home, to start acting as if nothing happened. He might even insist on going to work unless the doctor gave him strict orders to rest and take it easy for a while.

“Which reminds me, do they know at the station that you are here?” Steve asked his dad before he could start protesting about staying put in the hospital. “I tried calling Kelly before I left, but it went to voicemail,”

“No, I’m on leave - only due back the day after tomorrow,” his dad replied somewhat petulantly.

The room door opened again, this time granting entry to a short, balding Hawaiian native. The name tag embroidered over the chest area of his white coat identified him as Dr. L.T. Lester. He smiled cheerfully at all of them and went to the nearest monitor connected to McGarrett senior.

“So how are you feeling today, John?” the doctor inquired while studying the monitor.

“I’m fine doc, when do I get to go home?” John got straight to the point.

The doctor continued taking readings and making notes with an amused smile on his face. Then he went to unclip the chart hanging on the bed railing and made a few notes on it. After that, instead of answering his reluctant patient, the doctor turned to Steve and Danny to introduce himself. At the end of exchanging pleasantries, he finally turned to address John.

“Well, Mr. McGarrett, I can see you’re doing quite well and your readings are good. But, as I explained to you earlier, what you went through is quite serious and you might have damage to your heart muscle.”

Then sensing the alarm from the visitors of his patient, the doctor hurried to explain. “It’s what happens during a heart attack. The blood flow into the heart gets interrupted and it goes into a sort of overdrive trying to restore the flow. This overactivity can cause damage. Your dad was quite lucky that people near him reacted quickly and sent him to the hospital on time.” The doctor smiled again.

“So, what’s next, doc?” Steve asked.

“We do need to assess the possibility of damage and the cause of the infraction. The most common reason is usually coronary artery disease, which means cholesterol clogging the arteries. There are some instances this could happen if you were experiencing a seizure with severe spasms and contractions. We’ll need to run some tests to determine the cause and then plan steps for the recovery,”

“And how long will all this take?” The McGarrett senior looked crestfallen, resigned to the fact that he wasn’t going to get out soon.

“I actually have you scheduled for some of the tests now. Some blood work, an EKG, and a scan. An attendant should be here shortly to take you for those,” Then the doctor turned to Steve and Danny. “The tests will take about an hour or so. If you need to step out and have a meal or something, now would be the time.”

An elderly female attendant entered the room quietly, pushing a wheelchair as the doctor finished, and started unhooking Steve's dad from his various monitors. Steve took the doctor's advice and took his leave with Danny, after letting his dad know that they’ll be back once the tests were done.

……….

“Well, I’ve gotta admit man, your dad’s right. That does sound weird.” Danny said after listening to Steve about what happened.

“Why?” Steve frowned.

“My uncle Mario had a heart attack a couple of years ago. The man was moving some heavy boxes around. He’d been sweating buckets and breathing through his mouth for about an hour when my aunt found him and made him take a break. Then he felt pain in his chest and aunt Rea took him to a doctor. The doctor took one look at him and sent him to an ER. He’s been suffering from a heart attack for hours by then,” Danny paused and tried to remember the exact details his mother told him about what happened to his uncle. “He is fine now. He had to have a bypass and has to stay away from all the greasy food and the alcohol, but he made it,” he said inspecting the sandwich he took from the vending machine. They were both seated in the hospital cafeteria with bottles of water and sandwiches.

It was crowded and almost all the tables were full with families huddling together having lunch - most probably waiting for news about their loved ones. It wasn’t that noisy, despite being crowded to capacity - and nowhere near cozy or inviting - as one would expect from a busy dining area. It felt as though the sense of expectation, the sense of happiness, and the overpowering sense of grief had all tangled up together to create a very subdued atmosphere. Even the smell of food mixed with the underlying odors of disinfectant contributed to the gloom that pervaded over the souls lost in their own private worlds.

“Wow, I’ve forgotten how crappy the hospital food is. This doesn't look like a roast beef sandwich man,” Danny sniffed at it. “Sure doesn’t smell like it either.” Then he shrugged and started eating. It didn’t taste much better either, but he was hungry after the long flight.

Steve didn’t say anything as he nibbled on his food. He wasn’t really hungry but knew he had to have something to keep his energy up. He was thinking about his dad’s recounting of the incident. He hadn’t said anything to his dad earlier, but the more he thought about it, the less it made sense. What Danny was telling him also made it clear how unusual the whole thing was. He made up his mind to pop into the shop his dad was in, later when they left the hospital. Maybe he could talk to the shopkeeper and even have a look at their security footage if they had any. He might even find something that could explain his dad suddenly suffering a heart attack. Maybe there was something that his dad had forgotten to mention.

He needed to get in touch with Sheppard as well, to let him know his dad’s condition. He knew that John would worry until he heard from him. Taking the last bite of his sandwich, he decided now would be the best time to make that call.

“Listen, I need to call Shep and let him know dad’s alright. I’m just gonna be over there by that balcony,” he told Danny as he stood up, fishing his phone out of his jacket pocket. Then he walked to the area he pointed, dialing Sheppard. “Be right back.”

………..

The sweet and subtle smell of her perfume reached Danny first, as he realized the lady who was wearing it was standing right in front of him. He looked up and saw the familiar, smiling face of Lieutenant Catherine Rollins looking down at him.

“Well, hello!” He grinned. “Fancy running into you here, of all places,” he gestured at the seat Steve had just vacated. “Take a seat,”

“Thanks,” Rollins smiled charmingly as she sat. “I’m just here visiting a friend of mine. She just had her second baby - a cute little baby boy,” her face took on the same expression all women wore when talking about babies. “I popped in here to get a drink and then I saw you,” she said. “I thought you guys were in Colorado? Is everything ok?” Her expression turned into one tinged with concern.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m here with Steve, actually. We got a call about his dad, but he’s alright. We just saw him,” Danny explained without going into much detail. He noticed the Lieutenant perking up at the mention of McGarrett junior.

“He’s over there, on a call.” he pointed with his head.

Steve was leaning over the balcony with his elbows resting on the railing and busy talking to Sheppard. He didn’t see the new arrival as he had his back to them.

Danny saw the wattage of Cathrine’s smile go up as her eyes ran over the view the oblivious SEAL presented. He hid the grin and blinked at her innocently when she turned back to face him.

“So, will you guys be here for a few days then?” She inquired, her gaze snapping back to where Steve was, almost unintentionally.

Danny knew she was mostly interested in finding out whether Steve was going to be around for a while.

“Well, that depends.” He hedged. “We have to see his dad’s doctor and see how it goes,”

He didn’t want to give any definite answers or any other details without Steve’s say so. He opened his bottle and drank some water, wishing Steve would soon return. So that he could decide what to tell this infatuated Lieutenant who was back to staring at Steve’s ass with a dreamy look on her face. Then something started to nag at Danny about what she said earlier, but he couldn’t place it. He pushed it away to sort out later as he saw Steve finishing his call.

……….

“Yeah, so that’s what happened. He seems alright and man, that’s a relief. Depending on what his tests and scans show, it’ll be a day or two more. But I’ll message you when I find out,” Steve said to John, who was quite relieved at the fact that Steve’s dad was fine. He insisted that Steve take as much time as needed to make sure his dad got all the support he needed. He also made Steve promise to message him with updates and implored him to take care of himself before finally ending the call.

Steve put his phone back inside his jacket with a smile. He very much appreciated the time he was given to take care of his dad. Moreover, he was deeply touched by the way Sheppard sounded over the phone. He had been really worried and the relief that poured over from his lover through the call was almost a tangible thing. Steve made a mental note to send regular updates as promised. It wasn’t something he would have done for anyone else, but he knew Sheppard would stress otherwise. It felt nice to know that he had somebody who cared that much about him.

He felt the good feeling wilt away when he turned back to see the penetrating gaze of Catherine Rollins directed at him. He was pretty sure he caught her in the act of staring at his ass. She smiled brilliantly at him and waved. Steve was somewhat reluctant to wave back and tried his best to summon a smile for her. He was sure it looked more like a grimace instead.

Steve didn’t have anything against beautiful women. He was definitely not opposed to being the subject of desire of one, either. He had gone out with many pretty women and Catherine Rollins, with her long black hair, soulful brown eyes, and radiant smile was exactly his type. But he was very much invested in another hazel-eyed brunet and he didn’t see himself veering off anytime soon - if ever at all. Even if he wasn’t, Steve knew that he still wouldn’t be interested in this particular woman. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something off about Lieutenant Rollins - something that rubbed him the wrong way - that made him want to be on his guard whenever she was nearby.

“Hi, Steve,” Rollins greeted cheerfully as he walked towards them.

Again, he was instantly put off by the overly friendly greeting. They had only known each other for about 48 hours, hadn’t they? He had to make a conscious effort to return the greeting without letting his true feelings show.

“Hello, Lieutenant,” He asked, more or less politely. “What brings you here?”

Danny cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes, picking up on Steve’s discomfort instantly.

Rollins either didn’t notice or didn’t let it bother her because she launched into the story of her friend and her cute little babies with great enthusiasm.

Steve kept the smile plastered on his face as she talked. Then he made a show of checking time and gestured to Danny. “Hey, listen, it’s nice bumping into you here. But Danny and I’ve gotta run. My dad should be done with his tests now,” he said to the woman as Danny got up from the chair to go with him. Steve didn’t want to give her any details about their visit here and hoped Danny hadn’t run his mouth either.

With that somewhat curt parting, he turned and walked out of the cafeteria, with Danny following closely behind.

“So, it isn’t just me, hah? She gives off weird vibes to you too?” Danny asked, turning his walk into a half jog to keep up with Steve’s longer strides. Steve was eager to put as much distance as possible between them and Rollins.

“Yeah, you didn’t tell her why we’re here, did you?” Steve asked while stabbing the buttons on the elevator.

“Nah, not really. Just told her that we’re here for your dad. That’s it.”

“Is she following us?” Steve was staring at the shiny surface of the elevator door.

The reflections on it were slightly distorted. But Danny could discern the shapely figure of Rollins in tight-fitting jeans and green sleeveless top, slowly making her way towards them.

“Forget this,” Steve spat, pressing a few more buttons for various floors on the keypad. Then he swiftly walked away to the nearest staircase and started climbing two steps at a time. He knew his behavior was a bit irrational; she was just a colleague after all, not another enemy combatant gaining on him. Nevertheless, he wanted to get away from her as soon as possible.

When they finally reached Steve’s dad’s room, the man was already there, enjoying his lunch. It didn’t look much better than what they had either. John McGarrett insisted that there was no need for them to hang around since he was just going to take his pills and take a long nap anyway. He could see the boys were tired and wanted them to go home and catch a few hours of sleep for themselves. Steve relented and promised his dad that they’d drop by later around dinner time. He made him promise to call them if he needed anything before that and then finally hugged him fiercely, before taking their leave.

[recurring-polynya]

🔆 — obviously they end up married and procreating, but in your headcanon, do you see them expanding their family? Having more kids? Being content with just Ichika? She seems like 2 kids in one kids body. Where do you see the Abarai family in the future?

🔆 do they see themselves together for the long run ? like , getting married , starting a family , and all that jazz ?

So, when I first found out the timing on Ichika, I was honestly pretty upset about it. Part of it is that I think it’s nice for people to be married for a while without kids. We don’t know when Rukia and Renji actually started seeing each other romantically, but my personal preference is that it happened late, possibly during or after the TYBWA. We do know from WDKALY that they had a pretty short engagement, and then conceived Ichika almost immediately following the wedding. It’s kinda depressing to me that they would have this huge separation, followed by two years of slow burn, followed by six months of dating -> engaged -> married and then BAM preggo. Dang.

Secondly, even though she’s been a lieutenant for a year, tops, Rukia is now acting captain of a squad that has just taken enormous losses, one of her top officers has just transferred to Squad 4, and the Soul Society is in ruins. This seems like... a terrible time to have a baby?

On top of all this, Rukia has never struck me as a person who has always dreamed of being a mom or would be particularly delighted to find herself pregnant. I’m not saying she wouldn’t want to be a mom, or that she wouldn’t be a good one (I am not a particularly maternal mom, and to be honest, I think we could use some better representation). I think Renji would both like to be a dad and would be an excellent and intuitive dad, but he loves Rukia for who she is. He would accept not having kids before he would try to talk her into doing something she didn’t want to.

I am a compulsive fix-it person, but within the confines of canon, so I spent a lot of time trying to make sense of all this. In my ongoing, low-burn, canon-spanning fanfic epic, I tried to put in a few earlier scenes where Rukia interacts with some Kuchiki family members who have babies, and starts to feel some stirrings that having babies doesn’t mean quitting your job and your personality. She’s always valued her independence, but she’s also been alone for a really long time, and at the same time she is trying to adjust to the idea of maybe she would like to have a romantic partner, she’s learning the trials and tribulations of having a sibling, and she’s really re-examining her entire concept of family.

I have never been particularly fond, either, of the idea that Ichika is somehow the Kuchiki heir (and I don’t think she is, especially since she has Renji’s name, but we really don’t know for sure and it’s a common enough idea in fanfic), because the entire Kuchiki family is kind of a drag and also they are problematic billionaires and I don’t like Rukia and Renji just blindly assimilating into that. As a compromise, I came up with the idea that maybe Byakuya named Rukia and Renji a branch family to the Kuchiki (his favorite branch family, don’t tell anyone), so they’re part of the family, but pretty far off from the actual succession and they have a lot of freedom to Start Shit and make the other nobles clutch their pearls constantly.

Bringing it all together, I can finally start to make some sense of this. Rukia and Renji get married with the sense that they would like a family, plus they are somewhat obligated to generate an Heir. It’s shitty timing for sure, but the timing is only going to get shittier. I have heard of women who get PhDs and have babies in grad school. On one hand, this is an absolutely bananas thing to do. On the other, if you know that’s what you want, it is entirely rational, because at least most grad students have a flexible schedule and it’s better than having toddlers when you’re trying to get tenure. If you can manage it, this is actually a really effective way to manage a scientific career. So, in other words, they had their (1) baby, and then Rukia got down to brass tacks, training her bankai and getting her squad in shape. I can definitely see Renji in a primary caregiver role (I think they have a nanny, but he scales back at work and takes care of a lot of stuff), and that also partially explains why he’s still a vice-captain. (If any of this is compelling to you, I did write a short story about it once)

Now, I am actually going to get to your question and the answer is: it depends on what happens in a theoretical continuation of Bleach.

Rukia has just been officially been named a captain in the Bleach epilogue. I think that if things continue to be peaceful, and she settles into her role, after a few years, I could definitely see them sitting down at dinner and saying “you wanna have a big family?” Maybe two or even three more. Ichika is practically an adult at this point, but given the longevity of souls in Soul Society, I feel like it’s not uncommon for kids to have even multiple decades between them. I don’t think she would have any bitter feelings about this, she has always appreciated as being an integrated part of their lives, even when it got a little hectic and also she really loves her baby sibs.

On the other hand, if there’s another big war or an extended period of low-level conflict, I don’t think they would have any regrets if Ichika turned out to be an only child. Rukia and Renji have had a tremendous number of awful things happen to them in their life, and I think they have a tendency to focus on what they have instead of what they don’t.

The primary thing that I think would put a crimp in further kid plans is if Renji had to take a captaincy. I don’t think Renji particularly wants to be a captain, although he would be an excellent one. The way the setup of captains is after the timeskip, I cannot imagine anyone retiring, so I can’t see this happening in the peaceful scenario. I have no idea whose place he would even take. In fact, even if some captains got killed in some future conflict, I would think that by that point, Kira or Hinamori, for example, would be more likely to step up and take over their squads than to bring in Renji. Renji certainly wouldn’t take 1, 2, 4, 12 or 13, and they already blew the storyline where Byakuya dies and he takes 6. I suppose he could take one of the other squads if they lost both captain and vice-captain. Renji becoming the new Kenpachi is the spiciest possible take and I would read the shit out of that.

The actually family development I would like to see would be for Byakuya to get married, dude it is your job. Are you guys ready for my dream Byakuya love story that I will never, ever write because I do not ship him with any existing characters and I would die if I had to tag something Byakuya x OC? TOO BAD, here it is anyway: I think Byakuya doesn’t think he could ever fall in love again, and up until the main Bleach storyline, the idea of being remarrying is abhorrent to him. After a few years of being an ancillary part of the Abarai family, though, I think he could finally bring himself to find some suitably noble wife to Bear Him an Heir. In Byakuya fashion, I imagine he would dig through a bunch of genealogy records and find some woman who is the dead end of some old lineage of Great Soul Society Generals or some shit and out-of-the-blue proposes to her. This woman is the Spinster to End All Spinsters. She is like, 400 years older than him. She is not conventionally attractive and wears a lot of sweaters she knits herself. She has a lot of special interests, including carnivorous plants, and is extremely hardcore about her hobbies. She is the Sybil fucking Ramkin of Soul Society. Her spiritual energy is bonkers. She and Byakuya do not get along at all, but that’s okay because they have big plans to ignore one another (aside from procreational intercourse). Rukia is losing her mind. Renji is trying to smooth things over. Nothing is smoothed. Hitsugaya rather likes her and keeps trying to give Byakuya pep talks. Finally, like, Byakuya’s prize orchid almost dies and she saves it and Byakuya goes full heart eyes for her, and he has to be romantic at her. He wears an ill-fitting sweater she makes.

So, to sum up: Rukia and Renji get married, have Ichika. Byakuya gets remarried, makes an heir or three. Twenty to thirty years later, Renji quits to go be the stay-at-home soccer dad he’s always wanted to be. Byakuya Jr. becomes Vice-Captain at the Sixth (or possibly Ichika? That would be fine, too). Rukia eventually becomes head captain. When the younger batch of Abarai kids get old enough, someone convinces Renji to run for office and he becomes the Leslie Knope of the Central 46. Bam. The best timeline.

[talesofealdancynedom]

Uncle Cetus knitting; There is a matching picture, where Morgan is wearing that sweater by the way...

Tale 21: What The Wagon Was For (chapter 8 - On The Radio 8/8 ) part 6. Stories of wizards

no warings

           Wool and yarn; Soft threads tied together to keep warm. Self soothing, and expressing creativity. Natural fibers, twirled into textiles that are plush, yet strong. The smell of plastic from the store, that turns into a soft warm sent, as fingers pull it between needles and hooks; As it is transformed into a variety of adornments. Bright as red, or white with dots, thick as rope, or thin like thread; There is no limit to the yarn available to those who seek it. Each loaf, pulled from its inner loop, and wound into balls that seem to always escape, tangle, or go missing. There is always too little, or too much of it around. With a few years practice, a hat can be made in under an hour, with argyle of red and navy, against a confetti white base; Complete with ties and pom-poms. The secret ingredient is time and love; Weaved into something comforting, to be gifted and cherished by someone. A gift of warmth that shows you care.

There is an aesthetic, sensation, smell, and rhythm, in this ancient textile art. Not only calming, but also protective and embellishing. This is why when the couples’ knitting group was over, uncle Cetus kept knitting for the family, while Jupiter kept finding odd amounts of wool in the linen cupboard. While she groaned about the plethora of thread, each autumn, Morgan and the rest of the family, eagerly awaited what Cetus had spent the year crafting for them. Made with love, thought, dedication, and material that costs more then they should. these treasures were meaningful; Because they were made by hand, just for them.

           At the end of the semester, some important paperwork finally got processed and aproved. Magic politics can only function within the common laws of a land; And the law prioritizes children in need of homes, over opinionated wizards. Cetus, after struggling to organize finances after his mother died, finally got guardianship over his sister’s precious son. The problem was that Morgan was bonded to Tiberius Gate, living in an ominous tower. With Emilia. Aunt Jupiter was no quitter; She suggested they move into the tower as well. They already lived in town, and Reginia was going to be sent to magic school anyway. She was to be Morgan’s peer support. Though cousins, they were the same age and like siblings. As magical as Pepperidge was, Cetus and Jupiter were perfectly mundane; Born to magic houses, but unqualified to care for young mages. But they were qualified to provide a supportive and loving family, to two growing youths. Cetus was up to the challenge of helping Morgan overcome his trauma, grow, and be himself.  Mage or not, Morgan deserved to feel safe after everything he went through.

Thus, Cetus became a great aid in Morgan’s recovery. A male role model, as well as an incredible barrier to the corrupt wizard counsel. Morgan, as the mage of Tiberius Gate, was the way of getting to Pepperidge, and its mages. So, if anyone wanted to get rid of mages there, they needed to control Morgan. But now, they also had to threaten the wellbeing a commoner, who had common law on his side. Cetus knew it. No one was getting their fingers in any peanut butter jar, that would mess up his family’s happily ever afters. Every advance made to contain Morgan’s abilities, was being thwarted by an increasingly close pro mage community, in the tiny town of Pepperidge; From the bus driver, to every teacher and student. If he didn’t feel it, Morgan was completely safe.

           After school, mid week, Cetus dropped Morgan off at therapy, and Jupiter would come to pick him up after sessions.

“We have a family meeting, and child welfare check next week. As always, do your best, sport.” Cetus said, ruffling Morgan’s hair. It gave him joy; After almost a year of adoption, and counseling, Cetus could finally touch Morgan without him flinching. Cetus didn’t know what Leo was doing, or if it was even Leo and not life in general; But it was working. He saw Morgan off, before taking Reggie and Emilia home.

“Hey, want to get ice-cream on the boardwalk after dinner?” Emilia said, leaning out the back window. She pulled Morgan over to kiss his check. He nodded, and shyly returned the gesture. Cetus and Reggie tried not to giggle. Morgan slowly walked into the office, checked in, and sat in the depressing psychiatry waiting room.

The fluorescent lights flickered, but at a rate that wasn’t noticeable until there was a migraine. There was the smell of bleach, and old drywall. The receptionist was taking a line of calls, as other families came in, and everyone tried not to look at each other; Because every chair was awkwardly placed facing inward. The walls were mustard, and the chairs plastic. The water cooler bubbled, and the thermostat was set low. Morgan was wearing a forest green, salmon, and black argyle knit sweater, Cetus had made it. Fall had come around, and it was almost his birthday. Morgan reflected on how it had been nine months since his uncle took him in. He loved his uncle. But it wasn’t the same as his mother and father. He hadn’t seen his parent in almost three years.

           Leo came to the front, and h led Morgan to his quiet office, while holding Dolly. The light blue walls, smelled of ambiguous air freshener. There was a stack of papers, bulletin of inspirational posters, bowl of fidget toys, and a Yuka in the back. It had started to become comforting and familiar. Morgan relaxed into the chair, holding Icarus on his lap.

“Never seen you so relaxed,” Leo smiled. He took his seat, causing the office chair to squeak. “What would you like to talk about today?” He started. Morgan sat there, looking around the room. He wasn’t feeling anything in particular at the moment. Nothing was really bothering him. Well, maybe the embarrassment and excitement of getting his girlfriend with child WAY too early, or the stress of balancing the world of fey with homework. Also, the upcoming equinox dance at school, and his birthday. Actually, there was too many things to talk about.

“How about you and Emilia, or Cetus? Your aunt and uncle are getting a review from what I hear.” Leo prompted. He had an agenda. Morgan being relaxed was good, but there is always more work to do. Morgan shrugged, like usual.

“How about what you’re feeling right now? I can bring out the chart if you like.”

“I think I’m sad? Out of all things, today I miss mom and dad a lot. They send me paint, books, and clothes, to help my uncle. Mom still knows exactly what I like. Cetus is super nice, and he’s always there for me; He worked really hard to take me in, even with all the magic politics. I appreciate it. Oh, he actually got pulled into some quests, even though he’s common folk! Now I get to graduate early under professor Hara, researching Griminthropes. Aunt Jupiter wants to do a good job too, so she’s-” Morgan mumbled on.

“Stop there. This isn’t about Cetus’s life; This is about built-up trauma, and missing your parents, in spite of your recent happily ever after,” Leo interrupted. “I’m glad you’re confident enough to talk to me, but every conversation is about a fairy tale, not a feeling. You might need to break your habit of relying on magic, legends, and individuals, to avoid problems. I just want you to have a quality of life, feel loved, and care for your yourself. Without relying only on mystical outings or old books. You have the opportunity to do so, and I encourage you to focus on yourself.” Leo suggested. Morgan was leaning inn, looking mildly confused while he listened. At least he had Morgan’s attention.

“I get so frustrated with your avoidance problem. You walk around with so much pain and suffering; And it keeps you up at night. Yet, instead of processing it, and using your support system, you go to the shadow veil, stay silent, act reckless, and harm yourself. Your gratitude is wonderful, but happily ever afters are meaningless if you desert them. Avoidance is not a log term solution, and I don’t expect immediate change. But you need to start embracing things around you in the moment.” Leo said, fizzling out into a whimper, as he tried to stay professional. Morgan looked at him, unblinking.

“Yes, Leo. That’s what the wagon was for.” Morgan said, nodding his head. Leo gave a look of complete defeat. He already knew that.

“So you’re telling me, it’s more then a scheduled avoidance quest? That now it’s something meaningful; A source of fulfillment as a seer. Thus, Honestly Morgan, do you actually still need the wagon to find friends and joy? I don’t think you need to runaway anymore; Everything you need is right here, if you’ll sit with it.” Leo continued. Morgan liked that perspective; It sounded like enjoying life, without sacrificing his dreams. Morgan smiled a bit. The meaningful stories of each object in that wagon, were tales of is growth. That wagon had helped him. But his new life was doing that too. A simple, worn, faded, treasured wagon. In primary colours, the offend the senses. Something that was purchased at a toy store, to carry children on family outings. It is easy to say what the wagon was for, and what that means now. The wagon helped Morgan runaway, and become an accomplished mage. Now the wagon reminds him of good things he experienced, and is for visiting friends.

“Thanks Leo.” Morgan said. “I’m sorry I accidentally mislead you with the wagon. It’s very distracting.”

“Your most welcome, and forgiven. Oh look! We still have thirty minutes left.” Leo laughed. Morgan groaned. He still had to unpack his relationship with his parents with feeling words, now that the wagon was gone.

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