#my mom made an excellent point yesterday which is that if i get an office job i won't be able to babysit the dog anymore :(

[flashhwing]

taking a sick day so i can do some job hunting who wants to put in their bets on whether i will actually hunt some jobs or continue to just dick around

[pbandjesse]

I am really nauseous all of a sudden but I am sipping water and I hope that it passes.

Today was a really good day though!! I had been so worried and anxious but it ended up being just such a good day. And like yesterday when I was feeling so anxious I knew logically it would all be okay. But it was still tough to feel so stressed.

When I got home last night I had to tell James all of my big feelings. And it made me feel better and now I am not as frazzled about feeling inadequate. I would even reach out to Jules today and she said I was a star of a person and it was great. Called us sunshine girls.

I didn't sleep very good though. For how long of a day I had, I had really hoped to sleep well. But baby was lucky. Absolutely not. Every time I turned over I had to pee so stupidly bad. I am excited that I am feeling her more often. It's like rubber bands being plucked. But still. Would like to sleep!!

I set my alarm for 930. But even though didn't feel like enough sleep and I felt pretty bad when I got up. James was sitting on the floor and came and hugged me. They had already gone on a bike ride and done a bunch of stuff in the house. Busy bee.

I went and washed my hair and trimmed my bangs. Which made me feel a lot better. My hair has been bothering me so bad so this was good. I would even get compliments later on. Excellent.

I would sort of make some plans for the morning before my awah class. James had already gotten my folding table out. So I only had to pull out some supplies. No rush there. Instead I spent an hour eating breakfast, cutting my cuticles, and picking outfits for the week.

When I did finally make it downstairs I got those few materials out. And decided to use the hour I had to finish the bears I had sewn yesterday. I got all their eyes placed and arms stuffed and sewed. And since I still had time I sat in the basement and got them all stuffed. I felt so productive. I would sew them closed later in the day.

James was upstairs painting. And I love the green. I also love that we are painting the bookshelves to match. I think that was absolutely the correct call.

I went upstairs to see the progress and gave James a smooch before I headed to class.

And it was a really good class. Though it started stressful!

When I got there I couldn't find our class bag! No lesson, no nothing. I spent about ten minutes walking around the offices checking all the bags but I couldn't find them. I texted Sophia and was like. What should I do?? Cause like I'm perfectly competent to create a lesson on the fly. But also I didn't want to pull materials if that wasn't okay.

But when she didn't get back to me by 1245 I just had to make the call. And decided we would make cards. Fall/holiday/thankful cards. With collage and pastels. And this went so well. Everyone seemed to love it. I loved it. And when Sophia got back to me she apologized for the confusion and thanked me for being able to pivot.

The teen class was good. Naomi (student) was very funny when she thought that Kelly didn't have a leg (she was sitting on it) because she had crutches. And that lead to conversation about my dad not having a leg. Which the teens thought was fascinating.

Xavier was very sweet to. Last week his mom told Mary Ellen that he loves our class because he can be himself and doesn't have to pretend like at school. And this week I would make an extra point to hang out with and help him cut some pieces for his mistletoe collage. And at the end he very clearly didn't want to leave. He's moving to Virginia for a bit. And might not be able to come back for our next session. And he seemed slightly emotional, in his way. It was very sweet.

The adult class went really well. We basically had a full house. And they really liked this project. I learned that it you give Brian more dark green he will make more art. Turns out it's his favorite color, this is now the second fully green project he made! And I learned that Dan Taylor really loves collage. He made multiple cards and he even took my gift of extra collage paper at the end. He was also wearing a very snappy cobalt blue suit today. Very fashionable.

I also also found out that his mom is a post partum doula! I got her contact info. I have thought about having someone come through after birth to help, like a night nurse or something. So this is great because I already know her.

We would get everything cleaned up. Wished everyone Happy holidays and reminded them when our next session starts. And then we were off. A students mom gifted me and Naomi subway gift cards! And Mary Ellen had flowers for us. It was so sweet. Everyone wished me luck on being pregnant and hoped to see me more in the spring. And then we were off.

I was anxious about getting back home for my private lesson. Which started at 330. I would get home at 315. Stress!

But it ended up being such a lovely couple hours. Rosalie was such a sweetheart. Her parents came along but would leave us until 530. James would also head out to bike to federal hill and see the sun set. And we just worked.

She brought her own sewing machine which was slightly fancy and it took me a few minutes to figure out. It also has a strange presser foot and since I had some extras.of the standard door I switched that out and let them keep that one.

I was worried about making this totebags in two hours. But it was legitimately perfectly timed. Within 30 seconds of us finishing her parents were back! It was incredible timing honestly. But the whole two hours went so well.

We walked through the whole machine. Loading the thread and the bobbin. I had her use pinking sheets to cut some canvas for a lining, and then regular fabric scissors for the heavy cotton she chose. We sewed each side like a pillow case and the. Those two together. I also showed her how to do a ladder stitch to close the parts we had to leave open to flip. And it came out so super nice!

We finished the straps. We actually used the iron to press the folds. I tried to do everything as close to by the books as I could, but I also explained that this isn't necessary the best or only way, that this is just one way. And we didn't even actually use a pattern. And using a pattern would be different for sure. Plus the next bag wouldn't take two hours, because now she had practice.

When her parents came back we chatted for a minute. And they paid me. And thanked me. And then they were off. I wished them a happy holiday and a safe drive home.

I went to find James who was in the living room and I was just like. Ah! That went so well! And they were very encouraging.

They would run back out to get pasta to make us for dinner. Picked up some donuts too. Which ended up being cinnamon buns that they put chocolate frosting on but they were very good still.

While James was making the pasta I was working on finishing those bears. And once I was done that I started working on designing my new market sign. I wanted something smaller, more straightforward, and had a place for my business cards.

This small folding song was pretty perfect. For some reason my chalk markers did not show up at all though and I was pretty disappointed. So I had to pivot. I would cut some wood to make a little box shelf for my cards. I painted it so it would match. And then wrote out my sign on paper and just glued that on. I think it looks really good! I want to add some of my stickers but they were in the car so I'll do that later on.

James brought dinner to the studio and we ate together. And once we were done they were laying on the ground with sweetp. And I was slowly glueing letter beads to my sign. It was a nice night.

My back started hurting from sitting at my desk. James went to play a video game and I came upstairs to lay down. James would join me and we watched TikToks for a long time. But eventually they fell asleep and I went to take a shower.

When I came back from the shower James was sitting on the side of the bed and I teased them about falling asleep and talking in their sleep. They called me their little tiny wife. Despite being round.

James is back to sleep now. And I am ready to lay down and rest. Tomorrow we have an ultrasound. I'm excited to see baby. I am hoping we can get a 3D image but it's okay if not. I am just happy to see her at all.

I hope you all have a good sleep, and a good day tomorrow. I love you all. Goodnight!!

[writingsofwesteros]

alright believe it or not but im once again at work (saturday night shift) and imma try my hand at the secretary thing. first person POV bc we're experimenting.

Just when has my life become so lame? It's saturday night, I should be out, checking out that newly opened club with my girlfriends. Instead I'm at work. Yep! Me! Blood of the Lannisters! At work. I know.

Last chance to do something with your life, my father said, as he pulled the strings to land me this position. You might know him as Robert Baratheon, the founder of Storm Industries.

You better be choking on his dick by the end of this month or else we're all screwed, my mother helpfully instructed me as to the extent of my duties. You may know her as Cersei, the self-appointed Queen Bee of Upper East.

The Queen suffers no competition, which is how I ended up as a secretary for Mr Stark, a.k.a. the Ice Wolf - the C.E.O. of Storm Industries and the hottest DILF of Wall Street, fuck him very much. My mother hates his wife with passion and having me seduce him is her idea of revenge.

I mean, I've done worse things.

It is saturday night, but if he's still working then that means I'm still working too. From my vantage point behind my desk I can see him clearly, as he's strolling around his office and tossing papers around. His form fitting suit is slightly disheveled at this hour, the white collar popped open. H's wearing designer glasses - he says they prevent his eyes from tiring when he's working late and I have no idea what the glasses actually do but they make him look sexy as hell. I mean he is that. Sexy as hell. I've been staring at him for the past hour, all secretary work long forgotten.

Unfortunately none of my seduction tactics seem to work on him. Three entire months of sky-high heels, skirts that would barely cover my underwear if I had any, and cleveages that ends somewhere around my navel. Excellent dress code, I know. I aim to please. Guess what?

He hasn't even looked once.

But yesterday I think my mother has finally outdone herself. We've all been to dinner at the Arryns'. A rich old politician who is meant to help father with something, no idea what they're about, but that's beside the point. The Starks were there: the Ice Wolf, his wife the Ice Queen, as we call her, and their two hot sons.

And get this: mother had me give him a footsie under the table. In front of his wife and sons and my own father and everything. Yeah. I wish I was joking.

The second my foot touched his thigh under the table, his eyes immediately shot to me, but... he said nothing. He's done nothing. He only watched me, as I massaged his crotch with my foot. Maybe his ears went a little red, but otherwise - nothing, nada. Null. His gaze was intense, and it was kinda hot, not gonna lie. But I couldn't tell what he was thinking or if he was even enjoying it. I mean, I could tell he was hard but who wouldn't be? Eventually I had to stop because the Arryn guy wanted to show everyone his new private jet and we had to move from the table.

Thanks for nothing, mom.

I feared I made an idiot of myself and I was sure Mr Stark would fire me the second I crossed the doorstep of our office today, but... nothing of the sort. He was all cool politeness, and his DILFy sexiness, as always. And he made me stay overtime.

I actually think I might go mad with blue balls. Blue vag? Is that a thing?

Uh-oh. He wants something. He's rang the bell. Nobody's around this late and it makes me a little jittery, but I gather my courage, stand up, push my boobs forward and march into his corner office with all the dignity that's left to me.

"I want to show you something," he says and he points to a pile of papers on his desk. I see thay are some kind of screenshots, but the lights are dimmed and I can't read the details.

I lean down over the desk to have a closer lookand my heart freezes several times over. Suddenly it's hard to breathe. On his desk lay printed screenshots of my conversations with my mother. Conversations regarding him and how best to seduce him.

I panic and immediately start planning my evacuation, but suddenly I feel his strong hand on my back, pressing me to the desk.

"And you thought you were so smart," he says, standing behind me. On this lucky cursed night I'm actually wearing underwear, but it's all lace and so thin it's practically not there. I feel the broad knuckles of his other hand brush over my snatch. You know, because my skirt does nothing to cover my privates.

"Smart girls should always remember to log out," Mr Stark informs me.

I am not a smart girl. Never have been.

HOT HOT HOT

Oh i love how involved Cersei is in this; just adds another layer !!

[dragonmuse]

I'd love to see some wmits Izzy and Alma interactions.

(you've got it!!)

“Charlie!” Alma called as soon as she walked in the door.  “I need to borrow your husband!” 

“How did you get in here?” He called back, coming out of the office with a frown. 

“I made a copy of your key, obviously,” she tossed her braid over her shoulder. Dressed down today, just a little black dress, acid green tights and her lowest heeled boots. “What if you had an emergency and I needed to get in?” 

“I’d call Read,” he said dryly. “What do you need Iz for?” 

“Ugh, you know Mom’s whole charity thing?” She perched on their couch, reaching down to untie her laces. Apparently she was staying a while. Charlie headed for the kitchen, turning on the coffee pot.  

“Which one?” He asked wryly. 

“The warming centers thing, you know? Help the homeless?” 

“She’s got the arts education thing too,” he reminded her. “But okay, warming centers. What about them?” 

“She’s doing a big fundraiser and asked if I would help her out with some of the admin. It’s been fine. You know how much I love to part stupid old men from their money.” 

“It’s one of your best hobbies,” Charlie agreed. “Mocha or caramel?” 

“Mocha,” she kicked off her boots. “Anyway, the actual event is in two weeks and I cut Kyle loose yesterday.” 

“Oh ouch, I thought that was going well.” 

“Turns out, he’s a dick and a half,,” Alma sighed. “People are such fucking liars, it’s exhausting. But he would’ve made a bad date to this anyway. All those old men are going to be all over me.” 

“So you want Izzy to growl at them?” 

“It would make my night,” she beamed at him. The machine started to grind beans, filling the air with the sharp bitter smell.  

“He’s at work for another hour. Stick around for dinner and you can ask him yourself.” 

“That was the plan. I’m not in the mood to figure out food anyway. What’re you up to?” 

“Addressing my advisor’s latest round of critiques,” Charlie sighed. “I think I’m almost done. We’ll see. I don’t know how you survived this.” 

“Who says I did? I’m a shell of my former self. And what was left has been devoured by adjuncting. But I got an interview for a tenure position. Came in this morning.” 

“Holy shit, where?”  He poured the coffee slowly. “What exciting flyover state can we plan on visiting?” 

“Oh, I think you’ll find I might be quite close to home.” 

“...no fucking way.” 

“Way,” she laughed. “I’ve got to get it first, but can you imagine?” 

“You’ll move here!” Charlie beamed at her. “Really?” 

“Really really, if I get it. Can you imagine? You’ll probably get a gig on the oppisote side of the planet as soon as I do though.” 

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “I’m thinking of looking for virtual teaching positions, honestly. Something that leaves me enough time to research.” 

“Ah, ‘the book’,” Alma nodded. “Sure, why not?” 

He stirred in the chocolate syrup and brought her the mug, settling beside her with his own. Within a few minutes, they were both on their phones, doing their own thing, but Alma turned around, resting against the arm of the couch, her legs draped over Charlie’s lap. That was the scene Izzy came home to.  

“Am I cooking for one more?” He asked wryly. 

“Yep,” Charlie looked up, beamed at him. “How was work?” 

“Fine,” Izzy set his shoes next to the door then crossed to kiss him. “Can still keep you in style.” 

“Oh, you’re keeping me now?” Charlie ran a hand down Izzy’s arm slowly. “How novel.” 

Alma’s toes poked into Izzy’s stomach and he caught her foot, “What, princess?” 

“Charlie said I could borrow you.” 

“I said ask him,” Charlie corrected. “He’s not a library book.” 

Izzy dropped her foot, “What for?” 

“I’ve got this fundraiser thing I have to go to for mom and you would be an excellent shield against gross old men.” 

“I am a gross old man,” Izzy pointed out. 

“You’re not that old and you’re definitely not gross,” Charlie squeezed his hand. 

“Anyway, blending in can only help,” Alma sniffed. “Be my date?” 

“Do I have to be diplomatic about it?” 

“Not on my account,” she shrugged. “I’ll do the schmoozing, you bring the glaring.” 

“Send me the date then.” 

A month later, Izzy picked her up at the Bonnet family home in a black on black suit, no tie,  silver embroidered black vest in a pattern of roses, one button undone at his throat, the silver chain he always wore catching the light. He looked like a very classy mobster. 

“Did you dress to match me?” Alma asked, clearly delighted. She was in a silver dress, hugging her slight frame with shining jet black accessories. 

“Charlie bought it,” he shrugged. “So probably.” 

“Amazing.” 

When they reached the venue, he opened her door and offered her his arm. 

“Oooh giving me the full treatment,” she said happily, taking it, resting her hand butterfly light on his forearm. 

“What’s the use unless you sell it?” he acknowledged. “Your mother know I’m coming?” 

“I had to tell her,” Alma sighed. “Can you imagine how funny it would’ve been if I didn’t? But alas. Sitting arrangements etc.” 

“She must’ve been thrilled.” 

“There was a lot of deep breathing,” Alma agreed. “Too bad for her. I reserve the right to make this bearable for myself.” 

It was stuffy inside which felt a little on those nose symbolically. Most of the attendees skewed closer to Izzy’s age than Alma’s, affluent and boring as hell. There was a ten-piece band and a lovely woman singing ballads. 

“They’ll have to stop when they give out all the ridiculous awards, patting people on the back for making tax shelters for themselves,” Alma murmured. “I need to talk to the man in the hideous blue number first.” 

“Sure,” they approached and it was actually easier to keep pace with her. They were of a height and Alma wasn’t the kind to dash ahead. 

“Miss Bonnet!” the man exclaimed. 

“Mr. Landon,” she acknowledged. “Thank you so much for coming tonight.” 

“I would never miss an invitation from a lovely young lady to such a well put together event. I haven’t spotted your mother yet, but you’ll have to give her my compliments. Truly an outstanding showing,” he plowed on before Alma could say a word, “there used to be a time every night out was quite like this. When I was a young man, there used to be a dozen events like this a month. You were spoiled for choice, now you’re lucky to get a ‘thank you for your donation’ letter. Just leaving money on the table for good causes.” 

“I hope you got my thank you note,” Alma said lightly. “Parties are good, but I do like a personal touch.” 

“I did,”  Mr. Landon realized they weren’t alone at last. “And this is your-” 

“Date,” Alma supplied brightly. “Izzy, this is T. Landon, CEO of Metro Formation Banking.” 

“I’m familiar with them,” Izzy held out his hand. Mr. Landon glanced down, taking in the tattoo, and shook once very lightly.  

“A pleasure,” Mr. Landon glanced between them. “How did you two meet?” 

“My brother introduced us,” Alma said merrily. 

“Oh,” Landon’s face closed down. “I see. Give my best to your brother. If you’ll excuse me, I see Amanda and I’ve been trying to catch her for weeks.” 

“Of course.” 

Izzy watched him go, amused. “What did Charlie do to him?” 

“His son was selling steroids to the jocks at the high school. Charlie called the cops on them,” Alma smiled faintly. “No idea if he actually was or not. Charlie always hated him. There’s Mrs. Donogue. Try to look extra disreputable. She’s a beast.” 

Izzy went around the room with her. He stayed at her side, except to fetch her a glass of champagne that she used to punctuate statements rather than drink and nursed his own along. Each time she introduced him as her date, there were crestfallen looks from the men, followed by a sizing up. He’d meet their assessment with his toothiest smile. Go ahead and ask. I dare you.  

The women kept their council better, but he heard the flurry of whispers as they moved around the room. 

“Evelyn!” Alma said brightly as they neared the end of her circuit. She sounded genuinely thrilled. “Have you met her before?” 

“Charlie has mentioned her, but no.” 

“You’ll love her. Aunt E!” 

“Don’t call me that in public.” Evelyn was in a billowy deep purple dress that set her breasts on display and hid most of the rest of her. Her eye patch was in the same fabric. She wore no jewelry except for a single ring on her middle finger, an aggressively large diamond. “People will think I’m old enough to be your aunt.” 

“You are,” Alma laughed. 

“Stop that,” Evelyn groaned. “Or at least stop sounding so happy about it.” 

“You have to meet Izzy,” Alma told her. “Izzy, this is Evelyn, Evelyn, this is Izzy.” 

“Izzy,” Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “As in, Charlie’s husband.” 

“That’s right,” Izzy held out his hand. She shook it, strong and even.  

“And where is the problem child?” Evelyn asked Alma though her eye stayed on Izzy’s face. 

“Probably reading past my bookmark so he can spoil the ending,” Izzy smiled faintly. 

He’d solemnly promised he wasn’t going out alone. Izzy gave it a 50-50 chance of being true. Charlie did not do well in an empty apartment. 

“That sounds about right. Tell him that I missed him at the birthday bash this year.” 

“I will,” Izzy agreed. 

“I’m going to get another drink,” Alma declared, holding her still mostly full glass. “Anyone want anything?” 

“A negroni,” Evelyn said evenly. 

“No,” Izzy held up his own champagne, still half-full. Alma moved with purpose across the room. 

“Not content with just one of them?” Evelyn asked coolly.  

Izzy snorted, “I’m here as a distraction, not a real date. Alma can do better than me.” 

“So can Charlie,” Evelyn shrugged. “And yet. Here we are with my best friend trying to figure out just where she went wrong.” 

“He’s in a long term stable relationship,” Izzy said mildly. It was nice, actually. To have someone be honest about their distaste instead of hiding it in pointed questions. “About to get a doctorate. Most people would consider that a very successful turn out.” 

“It has lasted longer than I predicted,” Evelyn admitted. “I kept telling Mary ‘oh, just wait it out’. And then you got engaged and I told her it was a stunt. And now here we are. You’re very serious about him.” 

“Yes,” Izzy snorted. “That’s why I married him.” 

“People get married for many reasons, Mr. Hands,” Evelyn gestured at the floor. “It’s a lucky few that do it for love.” 

“I consider myself lucky,” he agreed. “What about you?” 

“Oh, I’m very unlucky,” she said without any change in her tone. “I’ve lost two husbands.” 

Izzy nodded slowly, “Charlie mentioned.” 

“I’m not a very maternal person. Never grieved not having children, but I’ve enjoyed being something like an Aunt to those two. Alma always had a million questions and Charlie took an interest in the business.” 

“I’ve heard. He talks about that autopsy a lot.” 

“He snuck in,” Evelyn said, a hint of fondness creeping in. “In any case, I take an interest, you understand?” 

“I’m glad someone does,” Izzy said dryly.  

“I didn’t come to the wedding because frankly, I hate weddings. I hated my own, hated every one I’ve ever been too. So I didn’t get a chance to say this then, but I think it still applies.” 

“I’m listening.” 

Evelyn shifted her weight, coming inches closer to him. “I have no issue with dead bodies, Mr. Hands. Least of all the ones that deserve to be dead, yet insist on drawing breath. Do you understand me?” 

“Yes,” Izzy smiled at her, pleased as anything. 

“I’m...not sure you do?” She straightened. 

“No one has threatened me over him yet. It’s fucking great,” Izzy sipped his champagne. 

“You...I’m lost,” Evelyn decided. 

“Your Mary was furious. Stede-” 

“Oh, don’t even mention him. We’ve had words,” Evelyn spat. 

“He’s an asshole,” Izzy agreed merrily. “Who blustered at me. No one else has had the guts to do more than that. Even Alma just rolled over to it and she’s the kind of girl that brings an automatic weapon to a knife fight. No one else seemed to give a shit.” 

“Guess that makes me special.” 

Izzy saluted her with his glass, “Very. A fucking pleasure to meet you, honestly.” 

“Here, Auntie,” Alma returned, holding out a glass for Evelyn. “Have fun?” 

“You know what,” Evelyn tipped her fresh glass at Izzy. “I think I did.” 

They had to sit to eat dinner after that. Izzy ignored his plate, in favor of listening to Alma schmooze her way around the table. Mary was sitting one over, apparently listening intently to some blowhard though Doug kept interrupting with guileless jokes that she laughed over and the blowhard winced at.  

There were speeches and awards as dessert came around, then at last the band started up again. 

“Dance with me,” Alma demanded. 

“Yeah, fine.” Izzy got to his feet. 

“We can just do a stomp and sway,” she offered as they got to the floor. 

“Fuck that,” Izzy decided. “You know how to foxtrot?” 

“No?” 

“I’ll teach you.” 

“How do you know?” She asked amused as she settled her hand at his waist. 

“Long story. But it serves you, so don’t ask questions.” 

Alma was a good partner. She moved gracefully, picking up the steps. Charlie liked his dancing dirty and had little interest in the formal. Would he if they came to an event like this? Maybe they’d have to crash a party one day and find out.  For now, Alma flew lightly on her feet. 

“We make a good couple,” she said impishly to him as they swirled around the floor. 

“I look even more like a predator with you then I do with him,” Izzy countered. 

“Because I’m a woman?” She asked tartly. 

“Because idiots think I could convince you of something. Or force you,” he spun her out, then reeled him back in “If they haven’t met you. They see a guy like Charlie, think he can fend for himself.”  

“If only they knew the terrible truth,” Alma snorted. 

“Which is?”  

“That without Charlie, you’d be lost at sea. And without you, Charlie would be dead.” 

“I don’t-” 

“Please,” Alma rolled her eyes. “I know my brother. I know what he was like when you met him. I like you a lot. Probably would’ve anyway. But I only love you because you keep him on his feet.” 

“Does the same for me,” Izzy offered helplessly. Hurricane Alma. What a force. 

“Can’t get divorced then. Mutually assured destruction. Anyway, no one thinks you're a predator tonight. Just a guy with enough cash to turn my head.”

“I’ve got fifty bucks and a triple AAA card.” 

“Great, we can have a breakdown and get fast food.” 

“It’s a date.” 

They left not long after. The Bonnet house was dark. He turned off the car, but she made no move to get out. 

“What is it?” 

“If I get the job...Charlie says he doesn’t want to leave the area. You think that’s true?” 

“We like it,” Izzy considered. “The apartment is a good deal. Know all the decent spots. I’ve got a good amount of clients. Could move, but not a lot of incentive just yet.” 

“I want you both to stay,” she kept her eyes on the house. “I might need you.” 

“What for?” Izzy frowned. “You don’t need anyone.” 

“That’s not the same as wanting to need someone. I don’t....I don’t know what I’m going to do yet.” 

“About the job?” 

“And my entire fucking life,” she snorted. “Ingrid is barely talking to me. Owen is never going to move back to the area. Shawna travels so much, it’s impossible to pin her down. I was counting on that. On them. And now it’s just...gone. So I need to know you’ll be around.” 

“I’m not making promises,” Izzy sighed. “But I can’t see where we’d go.” 

“Good,” she looked up at last with a half-smile. “If I need a ride in a few days, would you take me somewhere and not ask any questions?” 

“Any day,” he said carefully. “Are you all right?” 

“Not sure yet.” She leaned over the console, suddenly in his space. She kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Iz. For tonight. And the maybe ride. You headed home?” 

It would be a long drive. He could get a hotel room or at least, catch a nap here before going. 

“Yeah,” it wasn’t even a question, really. 

“I figured,” she grinned. “You’re both so predictable. Don’t fall asleep behind the wheel. It’d be a loss to the accounting community.” 

“Fuck off, princess,” he said fondly.  

“Night!” 

He waited until she was safely in the house, lights flickering on one by one, before turning the car around and headed back home.

[mcmansionhell]

Underground, Part 1

[Author’s Note: A year ago, when waiting for the DC Metro, I came up with an idea for a short story involving two realtors and the infamous Las Vegas Underground House, typed up an outline, and shoved it away in my documents where it sat neglected until this month. The house recently resurfaced on Twitter, and combined with almost a year of quarantine, the story quickly materialized. Though I rarely write fiction, I decided I’d give it a shot as a kind of novelty McMansion Hell post. I’ve peppered the story with photos from the house to break up the walls of text. Hopefully you find it entertaining. I look forward to returning next month with the second installment of this as well as our regularly scheduled McMansion content. Happy New Year!

Warning: there’s lots of swearing in this.]

Underground

Back in 1997, Mathieu Rino, the son of two Finnish mechanical engineers who may or may not have worked intimately with the US State Department, changed his name to Jay Renault in order to sell more houses. It worked wonders.

He gets out of the car, shuts the door harder than he should. Renault wrinkles his nose. It’s a miserable Las Vegas afternoon - a sizzling, dry heat pools in ripples above the asphalt. The desert is a place that is full of interesting and diverse forms of life, but Jay’s the kind of American who sees it all as empty square-footage. He frowns at the dirt dusting up his alligator-skin loafers but then remembers that every lot, after all, has potential. Renault wipes the sweat from his leathery face, slicks back his stringy blond hair and adjusts the aviators on the bridge of his nose. The Breitling diving watch crowding his wrist looks especially big in the afternoon glare. He glances at it.

“Shit,” he says. The door on the other side of the car closes, as though in response. 

If Jay Renault is the consummate rich, out-of-touch Gen-Xer trying to sell houses to other rich, out-of-touch Gen-Xers, then Robert Little is his millennial counterpart. Both are very good at their jobs. Robert adjusts his tie in the reflection of the Porsche window, purses his lips. He’s Vegas-showman attractive, with dark hair, a decent tan, and a too-bright smile - the kind of attractive that ruins marriages but makes for an excellent divorcee. Mildly sleazy.

“Help me with these platters, will you?” Renault gestures, popping the trunk. Robert does not want to sweat too much before an open house, but he obliges anyway. They’re both wearing suits. The heat is unbearable. A spread of charcuterie in one hand, Jay double-checks his pockets for the house keys, presses the button that locks his car. 

Both men sigh, and their eyes slowly trail up to the little stucco house sitting smack dab in the center of an enormous lot, a sea of gravel punctuated by a few sickly palms. The house has the distinct appearance of being made of cardboard, ticky-tacky, a show prop. Burnt orange awnings don its narrow windows, which somehow makes it look even more fake. 

“Here we go again,” Jay mutters, fishing the keys out of his pocket. He jiggles them until the splintered plywood door opens with a croak, revealing a dark and drab interior – dusty, even though the cleaners were here yesterday. Robert kicks the door shut with his foot behind him.

 “Christ,” he swears, eyes trailing over the terrible ecru sponge paint adorning the walls. “This shit is so bleak.”

The surface-level house is mostly empty. There’s nothing for them to see or attend to there, and so the men step through a narrow hallway at the end of which is an elevator. They could take the stairs, but don’t want to risk it with the platters. After all, they were quite expensive. Renault elbows the button and the doors part. 

“Let’s just get this over with,” he says as they step inside. The fluorescent lights above them buzz something awful. A cheery metal sign welcomes them to “Tex’s Hideaway.” Beneath it is an eldritch image of a cave, foreboding. Robert’s stomach’s in knots. Ever since the company assigned him to this property, he’s been terrified of it. He tells himself that the house is, in fact, creepy, that it is completely normal for him to be ill at ease. The elevator’s ding is harsh and mechanical. They step out. Jay flips a switch and the basement is flooded with eerie light. 

It’s famous, this house - The Las Vegas Underground House. The two realtors refer to it simply as “the bunker.” Built by an eccentric millionaire at the height of Cold War hysteria, it’s six-thousand square feet of paranoid, aspirational fantasy. The first thing anyone notices is the carpet – too-green, meant to resemble grass, sprawling out lawn-like, bookmarked by fake trees, each a front for a steel beam. Nothing can grow here. It imitates life, unable to sustain it. The leaves of the ficuses seem particularly plastic.

Bistro sets scatter the ‘yard’ (if one can call it that), and there’s plenty of outdoor activities – a parquet dance floor complete with pole and disco ball, a putt putt course, an outdoor grill made to look like it’s nestled in a rock, but in reality better resembles a baked potato. The pool and hot tub, both sculpted in concrete and fiberglass mimicking a natural rock formation, are less Playboy grotto and more Fred Flintstone. It’s a very seventies idea of fun.

Then, of course, there’s the house. That fucking house. 

A house built underground in 1978 was always meant to be a mansard – the mansard roof was a historical inevitability. The only other option was International Style modernism, but the millionaire and his wife were red-blooded anti-Communists. Hence, the mansard. Robert thinks the house looks like a fast-food restaurant. Jay thinks it looks like a lawn and tennis club he once attended as a child where he took badminton lessons from a swarthy Czech man named Jan. It’s drab and squat, made more open by big floor-to-ceiling windows nestled under fresh-looking cedar shingles. There’s no weather down here to shrivel them up.

“Shall we?” Jay drawls. The two make their way into the kitchen and set the platters down on the white tile countertop. Robert leans up against the island, careful of the oversized hood looming over the electric stovetop. He eyes the white cabinets, accented with Barbie pink trim. The matching linoleum floor squeaks under his Italian loafers. 

“I don’t understand why we bother doing this,” Robert complains. “Nobody’s seriously going to buy this shit, and the company’s out a hundred bucks for party platters.”

“It’s the same every time,” Renault agrees. “The only people who show up are Instagram kids and the crazies - you know, the same kind of freaks who’d pay money to see Chernobyl.” 

“Dark tourism, they call it.”

Jay checks his watch again. Being in here makes him nervous.

“Still an hour until open house,” he mutters. “I wish we could get drunk.”

Robert exhales deeply. He also wishes he could get drunk, but still, a job’s a job.

“I guess we should check to see if everything’s good to go.”

The men head into the living room. The beamed, slanted ceiling gives it a mid-century vibe, but the staging muddles the aura. Jay remembers making the call to the staging company. “Give us your spares,” he told them, “Whatever it is you’re not gonna miss. Nobody’ll ever buy this house anyway.” 

The result is eclectic – a mix of office furniture, neo-Tuscan McMansion garb, and stuffy waiting-room lamps, all scattered atop popcorn-butter shag carpeting. Hideous, Robert thinks. Then there’s the ‘entertaining’ room, which is a particular pain in the ass to them, because the carpet was so disgusting, they had to replace it with that fake wood floor just to be able to stand being in there for more than five minutes. There’s a heady stone fireplace on one wall, the kind they don’t make anymore, a hearth. Next to it, equally hedonistic, a full bar. Through some doors, a red-painted room with a pool table and paintings of girls in fedoras on the wall. It’s all so cheap, really. Jay pulls out a folded piece of paper out of his jacket pocket along with a pen. He ticks some boxes and moves on.

The dining room’s the worst to Robert. Somehow the ugly floral pattern on the curtains stretches up in bloomer-like into a frilly cornice, carried through to the wallpaper and the ceiling, inescapable, suffocating. It smells like mothballs and old fabric. The whole house smells like that. 

The master bedroom’s the most normal – if anything in this house could be called normal. Mismatched art and staging furniture crowd blank walls. When someone comes into a house, Jay told Robert all those years ago, they should be able to picture themselves living in it. That’s the goal of staging. 

There’s two more bedrooms. The men go through them quickly. The first isn’t so bad – claustrophobic, but acceptable – but the saccharine pink tuille wallpaper of the second gives Renault a sympathetic toothache. The pair return to the kitchen to wait.

Both men are itching to check their phones, but there’s no point – there’s no signal in here, none whatsoever. Renault, cynical to the core, thinks about marketing the house to the anti-5G people. It’s unsettlingly quiet. The two men have no choice but to entertain themselves the old-fashioned way, through small talk.

“It’s really fucked up, when you think about it,” Renault muses.

“What is?”

“The house, Bob.”

Robert hates being called Bob. He’s told Jay that hundreds of times, and yet…

“Yeah,” Robert mutters, annoyed.

“No, really. Like, imagine. You’re rich, you founded a major multinational company marketing hairbrushes to stay-at-home moms, and what do you decide to do with your money? Move to Vegas and build a fucking bunker. Like, imagine thinking the end of the world is just around the corner, forcing your poor wife to live there for ten, fifteen years, and then dying, a paranoid old man.” Renault finds the whole thing rather poetic. 

“The Russkies really got to poor ol’ Henderson, didn’t they?” Robert snickers.

“The wife’s more tragic if you ask me,” Renault drawls. “The second that batshit old coot died, she called a guy to build a front house on top of this one, since she already owned the lot. Poor woman probably hadn’t seen sunlight in God knows how long.”

“Surely they had to get groceries.”

Jay frowns. Robert has no sense of drama, he thinks. Bad trait for a realtor.

“Still,” he murmurs. “It’s sad.”

“I would have gotten a divorce, if I were her,” the younger man says, as though it were obvious. It’s Jay’s turn to laugh.

“I’ve had three of those, and trust me, it’s not as easy as you think.”

“You’re seeing some new girl now, aren’t you?” Robert doesn’t really care, he just knows Jay likes to talk about himself, and talking fills the time.  

“Yeah. Casino girl. Twenty-six.”

“And how old are you again?”

“None of your business.”

“Did you see the renderings I emailed to you?” Robert asks briskly, not wanting to discuss Jay’s sex life any further.

“What renderings?”

“Of this house, what it could look like.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Jay has not seen the renderings.

“If it were rezoned,” Robert continues, feeling very smart, “It could be a tourist attraction - put a nice visitor’s center on the lot, make it sleek and modern. Sell trinkets. It’s a nice parcel, close to the Strip - some clever investor could make it into a Museum of Ice Cream-type thing, you know?”

“Museum of Ice Cream?”

“In New York. It’s, not, like, educational or anything. Really, it’s just a bunch of colorful rooms where kids come to take pictures of themselves.”

“Instagram,” Jay mutters. “You know, I just sold a penthouse the other week to an Instagram influencer. Takes pictures of herself on the beach to sell face cream or some shit. Eight-point-two million dollars.”

“Jesus,” Robert whistles. “Fat commission.”

“You’re telling me. My oldest daughter turns sixteen this year. She’s getting a Mazda for Christmas.”

“You ever see that show, My Super Sweet Sixteen? On MTV? Where rich kids got, like, rappers to perform at their birthday parties? Every time at the end, some guy would pull up in, like, an Escalade with a big pink bow on it and all the kids would scream.”

“Sounds stupid,” Jay says.

“It was stupid.”

It’s Robert’s turn to check his watch, a dainty gold Rolex.

“Fuck, still thirty minutes.”

“Time really does stand still in here, doesn’t it?” Jay remarks.

“We should have left the office a little later,” Robert complains. “The charcuterie is going to get –“

A deafening sound roars through the house and a violent, explosive tremor throws both men on the ground, shakes the walls and everything between them. The power’s out for a few seconds before there’s a flicker, and light fills the room again. Two backup generators, reads Jay’s description in the listing - an appeal to the prepper demographic, which trends higher in income than non-preppers. For a moment, the only things either are conscious of are the harsh flourescent lighting and the ringing in their ears. Time slows, everything seems muted and too bright. Robert rubs the side of his face, pulls back his hand and sees blood.

“Christ,” he chokes out. “What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know,” Jay breathes, looking at his hands, trying to determine if he’s got a concussion. The results are inconclusive – everything’s slow and fuzzy, but after a moment, he thinks it might just be shock.

“It sounded like a fucking 747 just nosedived on top of us.” 

“Yeah, Jesus.” Jay’s still staring at his fingers in a daze. “You okay?”

“I think so,” Robert grumbles. Jay gives him a cursory examination.

“Nothing that needs stitches,” he reports bluntly. Robert’s relieved. His face sells a lot of houses to a lot of lonely women and a few lonely men. There’s a muffled whine, which the two men soon recognize as a throng of sirens. Both of them try to calm the panic rising in their chests, to no avail.

“Whatever the fuck happened,” Jay says, trying to make light of the situation, “At least we’re in here. The bunker.”

Fear forms in the whites of Robert’s eyes.

“What if we’re stuck in here,” he whispers, afraid to speak such a thing into the world. The fear spreads to his companion.

“Try the elevator,” Jay urges, and Robert gets up, wobbles a little as his head sorts itself out, and leaves. A moment later, Jay hears him swear a blue streak, and from the kitchen window, sees him standing before the closed metal doors, staring at his feet. His pulse racing, Renault jogs out to see for himself.

“It’s dead,” Robert murmurs. 

“Whatever happened,” Jay says cautiously, rubbing the back of his still-sore neck, “It must have been pretty bad. Like, I don’t think we should go up yet. Besides, surely the office knows we’re still down here.”

“Right, right,” the younger man breathes, trying to reassure himself.

“Let’s just wait it out. I’m sure everything’s fine.” The way Jay says it does not make Robert feel any better. 

“Okay,” the younger man grumbles. “I’m getting a fucking drink, though.”

“Yeah, Jesus. That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.” Renault shoves his hands in his suit pocket to keep them from trembling.  

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[dandelionflower]

I saw on one of your post that said to send you prompts sooo... can I request A childhood friend AU either Felix or Marinette moves away and then reuniting in college in France at age 14 in Felix's school with the Quantic Kids.

It was a pretty normal day, which probably meant something was going to happen. If it wasn’t a normal day, something was bound to happen as well; life in Paris hadn’t been normal in months. It being a normal day meant that Marinette was late. Super late. Way, way, so very late she might as well be early for the next thing kind of late. So late that- (oh, she’s beginning to catch onto why she’s so late.)

She knew even as she was shoving toothpaste into her bag for Tikki and brushing her teeth with frosting (wait, switch that) that she would be late, and her erratic movements were enough to convince her parents to write her an excuse. Not that anyone could blame her; she had to deal with three akumas in one night. Three akumas. Who could blame her, or anyone for that matter, for being late when there were three emotionally-stunted teens each wreaking havoc upon the city? It was a wonder that anyone else got to class on time, except for Alya, who Marinette was pretty sure didn’t sleep.

Marinette kissed both parents goodbye, thanking them again for the excuse note. They shoved a box of pastries into her hands, as was their habit whenever she didn’t leave school fast enough.

They had done it since her first day at her new school, when she was tiny and frightened of new people; having the same best friend since birth would do that. Her father had shoved a box of macaroons in her arms and her mother placed a bracing arm on her back. They told her what to do and she tried her hardest to follow their instructions, standing up straight at the front of the class, introducing herself, and offering cookies. Unfortunately, that was the same day Chloe Bourgeois was joining public school, and compared to cookies, her offer of money to ten year-olds wasn’t all that effective. And Chloe was excellent at holding a grudge.

Of course, she ended up with friends: Alya, Nino, Adrien, and everyone in art class, but it was hard to go about her first couple years of school without anyone in her corner. Becoming Ladybug really gave her the boost of confidence she needed to break out of her shell and make new friends, and now she had a whole class full.

She stopped in the classroom to put her stuff away, pausing for a second to breathe. How was she out of shape? She’s Ladybug, for heavens’ sakes! Those three akumas really took it out of her. Luckily enough, she had gym class up next. (Can you hear the sarcasm?)

“Girl! Where have you been?” Alya smiled up at her from where she was stretching her hamstrings.

“Sorry Alya, slept in too much.” She fell into place beside her, choosing one of the more advanced stretches to accomplish instead. “Three akumas yesterday; couldn’t get much sleep.”

“You need to get over yourself, Mari. Ladybug and Chat Noir always win against the akumas, this fear of yours is ridiculous.” Alya glanced at her with an incredulous look, but when she saw her intense yoga pose, the look shifted and she yelled over her shoulder. “Adrien! Get over here! Marinette’s doing her physics-defying stuff again!”

Adrien joined them, laughing at Alya’s exaggerated despair. “It’s really not that hard. You just have to-” He fell into the position easily and began matching her movements. “There.”

“How on EARTH?” Alya shrieked and threw herself to the right, toppling into Nino, who was in a shaky warrior two. They ended up in a heap on the floor, Alya staring in horror at the two still upright and Nino staring bewildered at his girlfriend. “How are you two doing that?”

“Well, I don’t know about Marinette,” Adrien moved into an upward dog, “but father insisted that I be physically active in some way and my mother used to do yoga. So I picked it up.”

Nino leaned close to Alya’s ear. “I’m not sure whether to add this to the ‘reasons Gabriel sucks’ list or be happy he has this thing with his mom.”

“Both I guess?”

“What about you Marinette?” He moved into a handstand-like position. “Why do you know all this stuff?”

My superhero moonlighting requires me to be as stretchy as a rubber band, so my partner, who is also a furry, taught me yoga. “My first best friend and I learned tai chi, and this just felt like the next step.” Not a lie, just not why she chose yoga.

“Okay, you’re fine.” Alya pointed a finger between them both. “But next time you do something weird, I’m starting a cryptid blog about you.”

“You don’t have the guts.” Marinette leaned in and Adrien flipped down to join her. It felt familiar, like deja vu; not her crush, she killed that with fire once he started dating Kagami.

“Heey!” Nino opened his arms in front of them. “Let’s change the subject, what about that new student?”

“There’s a new student?” Marinette turned to the rest of the class, who were all stretching dutifully. No new faces whatsoever. “Where are they?”

“Not here, he went to the office over a scheduling conflict. Seems like a jerk.” Alya pulled an arm behind her head, glaring with derision in the direction of the office.

“Alya, don’t.” Adrien nudged her with a foot. “First impressions don’t mean anything, right Marinette?” He shot her a playful glance.

“Don’t remind me.”

“That one was a misunderstanding. Mister Ice Cold over there doesn’t even say a word, just nods and walks into the back of the class. At least Adrien did something and he asked for forgiveness afterwards. Frosty doesn’t even look at us.” With that final comment, Alya joined the rest of the class in dodgeball.

“Is she alright?” Adrien side-eyed her.

“Yeah, she just really hates people acting superior to her. Let’s go.” Marinette shrugged it off and joined her in picking teams.

Dodgeball was a mess; it always was. The entirety of the class had been akumatized at one point, and some of the strategic prowess remained. Marinette’s team always won, which everyone attributed to her agility, but it was really that Ladybug had more practice in strategy. The only way the teams could be considered even was if Adrien was against her.

She still won; she always won. When it was all over, each team, sweating and exhausted, gravitated to the center line to shake hands and congratulate one another on a game well played. Adrien met her in the middle with a weary smirk. His hair was disheveled, but there was a spark in his eyes that made him seem more familiar than he already was.

“I almost got you that time.” He gripped her hand tight.

“All that training with Kagami is really upping your game.” She quipped, shaking his hand. “Better luck next time.”

With that promise of another match, everyone vacated the gym to the locker rooms, where Alya continued to warn Marinette against the new student.

“Even Chloe doesn’t like him and he seems like the kind of rich boy that would be right up her alley.”

“Alya, I get it. You aren’t the new guy’s biggest fan.”

“And the feeling’s mutual too.” She griped.

“So just don’t talk to him; it works with Chloe. Why not this guy too?” She wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her to their desk.

“Fine, but I don’t have to like it.”

“You don’t have to like him either.” She pulled out her notebook and began writing down the date.

Before Alya could make another passive aggressive comment about the mystery new boy, Miss Bustier walked in, the usual skip in her step. “Class, I know I already introduced you to our new student but since some of us weren’t here for the first period,” Marinette ducked her head with a sheepish smile, “I’ve decided there’s nothing better than a redo. So, here’s Mister Culpa, introducing himself again.”

Culpa?

A boy with pale blond hair and paler skin strode into the room. He wore what could only be called business-casual, all monochrome. His eyes were a one-in-a-million breathtaking ice blue.

Culpa?

“Hello.” His eyes scanned the room emotionlessly. “As I previously said, my name is Felix Culpa and I am from-” He stopped when he reached her. “Nette?”

“Felix.” She breathed, barely even daring to say it louder, lest he disappear.

He was a blur, climbing the steps and reaching her in the time it took her to stand. There were no words when they hugged, other than the other’s name. She was on the tips of her toes, pressing her forehead to his collarbone. Felix got tall.

“I missed you.” He whispered, squeezing just a little tighter.

“I missed you too.” She laughed, pulling back to see his face. He was crying. She was crying.

“What in Ladybug’s name is happening?” Alya’s shout broke them from whatever pocket dimension they were inhabiting together. “You two know each other?”

“Alya, this is Felix.” She turned to look at her, hand still on Felix’s shoulder. “He was my best friend from birth to ten.”

“Was?” He bumped her hip with his. “Didn’t know I’ve been replaced, Netta.”

“I couldn’t contact you after I moved! I was ten and your mom never told us what her new number was.” She punched his elbow. “What are you doing here?”

“My family moved. I didn’t know you were in this area too; imagine my surprise when I see what the current events in Paris are and find out that there are superheroes and my best friend is now a borderline celebrity.” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

“We have to catch up some time.” She grabbed his arm.

“Certainly, maybe not here and now, though.” He gestures to the class around them, avidly watching the exchange.

“Right.” She released his arm and rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. “Coffee and macarons later then? My place?”

“I would like nothing more.” He quirked a smile that would seem tiny to anyone else, but to Marinette was as bright as the sun. “Until then.” Felix squeezed her hand and moved to the back of the class with a little wave.

She returned it, a goofy smile definitely on her face as she sat back down.

“Well,” Miss Bustier coughed, “since Felix has been so thoroughly introduced to everyone else, I suppose I should start the lesson.” And she dove into a spiel about the first World War.

“Dang, girl. Is it just me, or do you have a date after class?” Alya whispered to her from behind her textbook.

“It’s not a date! We’re just catching up.”

“Sure.”

She spared a quick glance at Felix, who was nose-deep in his book, just like when they were kids. He had such sharp features, and upon reconsideration, his eyes looked even more beautiful than she remembered. Felix grew up just fine without her. Really fine, in fact.

It took Marinette a couple seconds to realize she was staring, and when she did, her head turned back to the front of the room so fast she swore she heard a snap.

This was... going to be complicated.

[keanureevesisbae]

But professor… - c.9

Summary: Walter and Penny can almost welcome their kid, however Penny starts to become very anxious

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 2.3k

Warnings: Just mentions of punching people

Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter //

I’m thirty weeks pregnant and I know that I have around eight to ten weeks to go, however, this pregnancy has been pretty straining on my back, my pelvis and basically my entire body. Moving around is painful and my mom is over at our place a lot of the time to help me out. I’m thanking the heavens that I am not doing cosmetology school now as well, knowing for a fact that I probably couldn’t keep up at all.

If I’m not sitting on the couch reading, I’m crying because I am sitting in the nursery and think about having a little baby and all the bad things that could happen to them.

Walter is drained from a rough day of patrolling and he plops next to me on the couch. Just like any other day, I barely moved, however he still asks me the question.

‘How was your day, princess?’

‘Boring,’ I mumble. ‘How was yours?’

He simply shrugs, probably because something happened and he doesn’t want me to worry. I rest my head against his chest and without thinking it seems, he places his hand on my stomach. ‘Have they been good to you?’ he asks

‘They sure have been,’ I chuckle. ‘Just hate the fact that I’m practically glued to the couch.’

Walter nods, pressing a kiss on top of my head. I know he worries a lot and therefore confides to my mom, asking her what more he can do to help me out. Walter is being the perfect boyfriend, because even my mom said that he is doing literally all he can to help me out. One night I found him scrolling and searching for tricks to ease the pain and discomfort, though he never lets me in on it.

‘If you’re up for it, we could have dinner,’ he says, ‘somewhere other than our living room.’

‘Where do you want to go?’

‘I don’t know what you’re craving. I’m up for anything.’

‘Pizza?’ I ask. ‘I would really love a Hawaiian Pizza.’

Walter frowns for a second—probably remembering how I told him multiple times that I hate pineapple on pizza—but then he nods. ‘Of course, princess.’

✎ ✎ ✎

We’re sitting at a restaurant across from each other and it’s nice to be out and about again. I mean, I go to town with my parents a lot, I hang out with the ladies from the pregnancy class, but going out with Walter has been a while, especially because he has been working long hours and I’m tired after one trip to anywhere basically.

Walter actually stretched out his leg underneath the table, towards my side, so I can rest my feet on it. Every time I have a crust left, I hand it over to him and with a small smile he accepts them. ‘So,’ I say, ‘I’ve been thinking about a name.’

‘Tell me.’

‘I would say that for a girl we could call her Emma.’

Walter tilts his head. ‘Emma Marshall, sounds cute,’ he says with a smile. ‘You have a name for when it’s a boy?’

I shrug. ‘I don’t know. I actually think they’re a girl.’

He starts to laugh. ‘Why do you think that, princess?’

‘Just a gut feeling,’ I chuckle. ‘What do you think?’

‘I have no idea,’ he says, holding out his hand for me to take. When I placed mine in his, he adds: ‘I actually have a name for a boy. Wanna hear?’

‘Always.’

‘Declan.’

Oh, that’s a lovely name. I don’t think I even know someone who is named Declan. ‘Declan Marshall. That sounds so cute. I absolutely adore it, Walter.’

Walter smiles and gives me a kiss on my hand. ‘We’ll see how we name them.’

‘Yeah,’ I chuckle. ‘Just around ten weeks or less,’ I say. ‘Kinda nervous.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘It’s giving birth, Walter. That’s scary. All these other ladies are so confident and proud of what their bodies can do and all. I mean, sure, that’s awesome, but it also terrifies me.’

‘Understandable,’ he says. ‘I’ll be there for you, every step of the way.’

‘I know,’ I chuckle. ‘It’s just that… I don’t know. With being pregnant, it’s just all a fantasy. With a newborn, it’s the real deal.’

Walter nods, taking in my worries. ‘Well,’ he says, ‘you and I can manage.’

‘You’re being awfully nonchalant about it.’

‘That’s because I need to stay calm for you. Believe me, princess, I’m freaking out on the inside.’

I frown, because that’s the first time he actually told me those words. Usually he says that he cannot wait for this baby to arrive, though it is a little scary every now and then, but saying he is freaking out?

That’s new.

‘What?’ I ask him. ‘Are you serious?’

He nods. ‘I mean, being a parent is difficult. Growing up I didn’t have the love and support I needed. I basically raised myself and judging from the person I am today, I didn’t really do a good job.’

‘You did an excellent job,’ I retort. I know about his youth and how he had to raise himself, how you can still notice it in his day to day life. ‘Walter, please tell me about your worries. You don’t always need to be the protective big bear who prevents me from any harm. I’m a big girl and I need you to confide with me. Please?’

He sighs as he is looking everywhere but to me. This is hard, I can see it, but from the looks of it, he is gonna agree with me. ‘Okay, I’ll try.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Dinner ended not so great. As we were walking back from the restaurant to our car, two guys thought it was necessary to whistle at me (I didn’t even notice at first, but then Walter’s entire demeanor changed, so that’s how I was informed about the matter).

Let’s just say, it evolved into an argument and then one of the guys thought it was an excellent idea to push Walter. I applaud him for having the guts to push my boyfriend, but it was honestly one of the stupidest things for him to do, because Walter wouldn’t be Walter if he punched the guy and his friend.

Multiple times.

I have been ignoring him for the entire drive and once we’re home, I still don’t know what to say to him.

‘Princess,’ he whispers, carefully trying to approach me as I’m sitting on the edge of the bed in his shirt. ‘Please talk to me.’

I purse my lips together, as tears burn in my eyes.

He sits behind me, placing his hands on my upper arms. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says.

‘Sorry for what?’

‘For scaring you. I was just protecting you, darling.’

‘What’s wrong with just ignoring the matter, Walter?’ I ask him, turning to the side so I can look at him without craning my neck. ‘You scared me back there.’

‘I’m not gonna let some dip shit whistle at you, especially not when I’m next to you,’ he defends himself.

‘You’re an officer,’ I tell him. ‘I don’t think this is proper behavior.’

‘I wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you,’ Walter retorts.

‘That’s not the point. The point is you put yourself in danger.’

‘Hardly.’

I glare at him. ‘I don’t like this,’ I say. ‘Have you any idea how stressful it was for me? You know what, never mind. I’m going to sleep.’

He scoots back and I wrap my arms around the pregnancy pillow, with my back towards him. I love Walter, I really do, but this… I saw it all unfolding in front of my eyes.

It would start with an argument, some light pushing, until the other guys would pull out a knife, stab Walter, which would result in a trip to the hospital. Possibility of death. Me having to bury the father of my child.

I push my face in the soft fabric of the pillow, as hot tears slide over my cheeks. Walter sighs deeply next to me and starts to toss and turn next to me. His leg bumps into mine and it causes him to hold his breath. ‘Sorry, Penny,’ he says.

I dry my cheeks on the pillow. ‘Walter,’ I whisper, ‘you know I worry when you go to work.’

‘I know,’ he says, ‘but you don’t need to.’

‘You’re gonna be the father of our kid,’ I continue, ‘and I’d like to raise them with you, not in memory of you.’

‘Princess,’ he whispers, ‘we’re gonna raise this kid and eventual others together. You know, before I met you, I was an adrenaline junkie, detective or not. I got into a lot of shit, hence the reason I was suspended and started teaching. You, my love, made me realize that chasing danger like I used to, is not gonna get me further in life. Now I have you, I have the love of my life here with me and I’m never ever gonna do anything that’ll put me or you or our child in danger.’

‘Then why did you punch him?’

‘Because he started it,’ Walter says, only for him to realize how toddler like that sounds. ‘I just want to protect you against anyone,’ he says in a softer tone. ‘Because I love you, Penelope Townsend. You are my everything.’ He wraps his arm around my upper body, pressing a kiss against my temple. ‘I’m sorry I scared you, Penny. I never meant to do such thing.’

‘I know,’ I whisper. ‘Sorry for overreacting.’

‘No, no, no, you’re not overreacting. Maybe I was.’ He pulls me closer to his own body and places his hand on my stomach. ‘Just know that I will forever protect you and the baby.’

I chuckle. ‘I know that. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid anymore, not when I’m around at least.’

He smiles. ‘I’ll tone it down a notch, princess.’

✎ ✎ ✎

‘Is that that colosseum thing you were talking about?’ Walter gestures towards my chest and I look down, spotting two tiny wet patches near my chest area, before bursting into laughter.

‘Colostrum, Walter, not colosseum.’ Oh dear, he is totally blushing, because of his mistake. ‘Can you grab me another shirt?’

I barely asked the question, when he jumps up and rushes upstairs. I rub my stomach a little bit, slightly scared at how much it expanded. I’m close to the end of my pregnancy, having reached thirty nine weeks yesterday. I wonder how it’ll ever go back to normal.

Walter comes down again and without me asking he changes my shirt. ‘Have I told you I loved you today?’

‘A few times.’ I give him a kiss and whisper: ‘I’m proud of you.’

He frowns. ‘Why are you proud of me? You’re the one growing an entire baby here.’ He carefully places his hands on the side of my stomach. ‘The least I can do is to make things as comfortable for you as possible.’

‘But you always do it without complaining,’ I say. ‘I heard that Stacey’s husband is such a pain in the ass. Always complaining, groaning about how much he has to do nowadays.’

Walter scoffs. ‘Well, pregnant or not, I’d like to worship you, make your life as easy as I possibly can.’ He gives me a kiss. ‘What can I do for you, darling?’

‘Sex,’ I say, before I curl my lips in. Oh gosh, never have I been so straight forward. My cheeks heat up. ‘No, please, forget what I said.’

‘Is my girl asking me for sex?’ Walter starts to laugh. ‘The day Penny Townsend asked me for sex has finally arrived.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I laugh nervously. ‘It’s just been awhile.’ Awhile equals three months. I hate how he sometimes initiates, but I simply shake my head. It’s a combination of a very low sex drive, not feeling pretty and being in pain nearly twenty four seven.

He leans forward and kisses me. ‘Want to go to the bedroom, princess or is the couch acceptable as well?’

‘We can stay here,’ I whisper.

‘Then let me close the curtains and lock the door, okay?’

‘Okay,’ I mumble.

When he comes back, he takes off his shirt, so I can admire his beautiful strong body. There is something so special about Walter. He looks strong enough to left a car up with one arm, but he is a mushy man the second the front door closes and we’re together. He kneels in front of me, pressing open mouth kisses on my lips. ‘Shit, I love you,’ he says against my mouth. He disregards my shirt and admires me.

‘Stop,’ I say, rolling my eyes.

‘No, no, no, I could never stop admiring you.’ He places his hands on my expanded stomach and says: ‘You’re so beautiful.’

He gives me a long kiss and then I whimper. Not out of pleasure, but out of shock.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asks me.

‘I think my water broke.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Twelve hours later, I am looking at Walter, who holds the little baby in his strong arms. He sits next to me on the bed and wraps one arm around my shoulders. ‘Penny, princess,’ he says, ‘I don’t think words can describe how proud I am of you and how much I love you.’

I nuzzle my face in his chest. ‘I love you too. Thank you for not freaking out.’

‘Externally freaking out you mean, because on the inside I was fainting,’ he chuckles. He gives me a kiss on my temple. ‘I’m a dad.’

I actually see some tears in his eyes and I cannot stop my own either. ‘I know.’ I place my hand on the little bundle and whisper: ‘We’re officially parents. It’s so surreal.’ I let out a deep and content sigh.

The little baby opens their eyes and I cannot stop my smile.

‘Hi, little one,’ Walter says. ‘Oh no, Penny, we’ve created an exact copy of yours.’

I chuckle. ‘Good luck saying no to him,’ I say. ‘We love you so much, Declan Marshall. So so much.’

[sometimesiwritebadly]

Rogue Thoughts (Spencer Reid x FBI Agent!Reader)

Summary: Soulmates can occasionally hear each other’s thoughts. You happen to hear the thoughts of a fellow FBI Agent while you’re interviewing for a position at the BAU.

Check out the series

Warnings: Some language, but it’s just fluff

Notes: SOULMATE AU MOTHER HECKERS

Word Count: 2k

Masterlist

After nearly 30 years of listening to your soulmate’s thoughts, nothing could surprise you at this point. While most of your friends or family heard relatively normal things from their soulmates before they met, your head consisted of random facts about anything from mental illnesses you’d never heard of to Greek philosophy. Once, you had what you learned to be some of Friedmann’s equations stuck in your head for a week. Despite how little you cared for mathematics, your curiosity had given in eventually and you ended up googling it after 3 days. Whoever your soulmate is, he’s an absolute genius. 

Sometimes the thought of just how smart your soulmate is feels a little daunting; You’re not dumb, you have a master’s degree in Criminology and worked for the FBI, but you couldn’t help but wonder if your soulmate would be disappointed when the two of you finally meet. There’s no way of telling which of your thoughts your soulmate had heard from you over the years; maybe he learned about your study of criminals or some of the bad guys you’d managed to catch over the years...or maybe he learned about how you have almost every episode of Friends memorized. Recently, the thoughts you heard have become more frequent. Back when you were a kid, the thoughts you heard could be weeks or even months apart, but as you got older, you heard his thoughts more and more often. Your mom had said that must mean you’re going to meet your soulmate pretty soon; the same thing had happened with her and your father. 

“17 interviews and we still don’t have a replacement…”

The thought entered your head for a moment, but flickered away before it completed. “Don’t distract me today, soulmate. I’ve got a job interview.” You thought. Even though you don’t have any control over which thoughts he would hear, you hoped he had gotten your message. You currently worked in Crimes Against Children with the FBI, but after 4 years excelling in that area, one of the higher-ups, Strauss, had suggested applying for the renowned Behavioral Analysis Unit. You had become a profiler of sorts within CAC; when you were in college you had attended multiple lectures on the subject matter. Even though you weren’t officially trained, your bosses all agreed that you had the potential. Plus, the BAU had been down an agent for a while, so today you were meeting with SSA Hotchner.

When you arrived at the FBI headquarters today, instead of heading to your usual building, you went to the building where the BAU was held. Your nerves were getting the best of you as the elevator slowly made its way to the 6th floor, and to make matters worse, your soulmate’s thoughts were flying through your head at an astronomical rate. “I should book a flight to visit mom soon…” “Maybe we’ll finally get a new agent today....” “if Morgan tries to make me do his paperwork one more time…” Clearly, he hadn’t heard your plea to try and keep it down today. Or, he has just about as much control over which thoughts you heard as you did with his. Despite the foreign thoughts filling your head, you tried your best to stay focused as you exited the elevator and made your way towards Hotchner’s office. 

As you walked through the room, your eyes were pulled from your destination to the various people sitting at the desks. Or, more specifically, to a certain guy filling out paperwork diligently. “Holy fuck, he’s cute.” You thought. Almost immediately, his head snapped up towards you. “Did he…?” “Wow.” You both thought at the same time. This time, you stopped walking, and he pushed away from his desk to get a better look at you. Your interview had almost completely slipped your mind until you heard someone call your name.

“SSA Y/L/N?” You turned away from the guy, who you were now incredibly intrigued by, to the man you recognized as Aaron Hotchner. 

“SSA Hotchner, it’s good to see you again.” You said, giving him a wave. You weren’t a fan of shaking hands, although you were nervous your avoidance of the motion would come off unprofessional. Luckily, Hotchner didn’t seem to mind.

“Please, call me Hotch. My office is just this way, if you’d like to follow me.” Hotch led you to his office, where you took a seat in the chair across from his desk. Luckily, the thoughts from your soulmate - who may or may not be sitting right outside this office - had calmed down, so you had a clear head for your interview.

~~~

“Garcia!” Spencer burst into Garcia’s batcave, shocking the girl. Morgan stood next to her, looking at Spencer like he was insane.

“What’s wrong, pretty boy?”

“I need to know the name of the agent Hotch is interviewing right now.”

“Ok, you could’ve just asked like a normal person instead of giving me a heart attack!” Garcia grumbles, sitting in front of her computer to pull up the information. “Do I at least get a reason as to why you need to know about,” She paused, reading the name that had popped up on her screen, “SSA Y/N Y/L/N?” Spencer leaned down next to Garcia, so he could see the picture of you on the screen.

“Y/N Y/L/N…” The name felt perfect coming from his lips. It was like he never wanted to say another name again

“Reid? Seriously, what's up with this girl? Do you think she’s bad news?” Morgan asked, clearly concerned about Spencer’s actions

“N-no, I, um, I think she’s my soulmate.” Spencer whispered, not really registering what he had said until Garcia’s excited squeals finally tore his eyes away from the computer screen

“Oh my god this is the best thing that’s ever happened! Are you sure? Oh my god I need to do more research! No wait - if you think she’s your soulmate what are you doing in here with us! You need to be with her and fall in love and get married and name your first born after me like yesterday!” Garcia began rambling, grabbing Spencer’s hand and practically dragging him out of her office and back towards the bullpen. She continued talking as they walked over, while Morgan trailed behind with a wide smile on his face. 

Prentiss and JJ had been chatting at their desks when Garcia dragged Spencer in. “Code Red, ladies! Spencer Reid met his soulmate and she’s with Hotch right now!” Garcia announced, finally letting go of Spencer’s arm. 

“Holy shit!”

“Oh my god, Spence!”

Emily and JJ both gave Spencer a hug, while a blush rose to his cheeks. “I-I don’t know for sure yet. I just, it was like something was pulling me to her. And this time when I heard her thoughts it just felt so…” Spencer was at a loss for words, which was very rare for him. He couldn’t describe this brand new experience.

“Like everything suddenly made sense?” JJ suggested, as the only one in the group who actually knew what the experience of meeting your soulmate was like. 

“Yeah.” Spencer nervously began to play with his hands, turning to look at the door. Through the blinds of Hotch’s office, he could just make out where she was sitting. “Good luck.” He tried to send her the thought, knowing that if they really were soulmates, he should have more control over which thoughts she would hear or not. He may have been imagining it, but he swore she saw her figure get less tense through the blinds.

~~~

“Well, Agent Y/L/N, you’re certainly one of the best candidate’s I’ve interviewed so far. I know you still have an active case to finish with CAC, but once that’s resolved we’d love to have you transfer over here to the BAU.” Hotch said with a small smile.

“Thank you so much, Hotch! My current case is almost wrapped up, so I should be able to officially transfer within the next week or so.” You said with a smile. The both of you stood from your chairs, and Hotch opened his office door for you. Immediately, your eyes found the man again, and you found he was already looking at you. 

“Did you want to meet the rest of the team? Clearly, they’ve all decided it’s social hour anyways.” Hotch suggested, clearly not too pleased with the group that was very clearly not doing any work at the moment. He had mentioned that the team didn’t have a case right now, but you were sure there was still plenty of paperwork to get though.

“Yes! Please.” You said, maybe a little too enthusiastically. Even though you did want to be on good terms with the whole team, right now the only person you cared about was the man in the cardigan.

“Guys, this is SSA Y/N Y/L/N, she’ll be joining us here at the BAU soon. Y/L/N, this is SSAs Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, and Dr. Spencer Reid. Penelope Garcia is our technical analyst, and SSA David Rossi should be around here somewhere-” 

Hotch was practically cut off by Penelope, who immediately pulled you in for a hug. You did your best to hide your discomfort, but you had always been a bit of a germaphobe.“Oh my God it’s so lovely to meet you, we’re all so excited for you to join our little family…” Penelope began to ramble as she pulled away from the hug, which you found endearing. 

“Is she like this all the time?” You thought. 

“Yes. You’ll get used to it.” Your eyes immediately move to Spencer’s. Dr. Spencer Reid.

“I’m sure I will. Don’t know if I’ll get used to talking in our minds though.” You think. You were completely tuned out of the conversation the other Agents had started, now focusing only on Spencer.

“Well, studies show that transitioning to life with a soulmate can be jarring, but not because of discomfort of hearing thoughts. It usually takes couples a long time to learn how to turn it off, which can result in soulmates getting to know each other’s secrets rather quickly. That’s why nearly 38% of soulmates will break up within a few months of starting a relationship, although it should be noted that 87% of those that break up will end up getting back together at some point in their lives.” Spencer’s thoughts began racing, and you suddenly understood all the random facts you had learned from him over the course of your life. As he told you the facts and figures of soulmates breaking up - not the best subject for a pair of soulmates that just met, but you didn’t mind - you noticed that the rest of the team had stopped talking and were now just watching you and Spencer converse in your heads.

“That probably explains why we’re talking with our thoughts instead of out loud. And why your team is staring.” Spencer’s cheeks reddened when he looked away from you and realized you were right.

“Honestly, I forgot they were there. Which is rare for me, I have an eidetic memory.” You laughed aloud at his remark, earning more confused looks from everyone else.

“Sorry, guys, I guess we got a little...distracted.” You spoke aloud for the first time in a few minutes. Spencer moved closer to you, his hand itching to take yours.

“Oh, please, don’t apologize, I was the same way with Will after we met. I know how overwhelming it can be at first.” Jennifer waved off your worries, and extended a hand towards you, “You can call me JJ, by the way.” 

“Oh, um, I don’t really shake hands, I’m a bit of a germaphobe.” You worried once again about coming off as rude, but this remark only made JJ, and the rest of the team laugh.

“Wow, you two really are soulmates, aren’t you.” Derek remarked, swinging his arm over Penelope’s shoulder as he spoke.

“I’m the same way.” Spencer explained to you, “It’s actually safer to kiss.”

“I’m sure we’ll put that to the test when we’re alone.” You didn’t think it was possible, but Spencer’s face became even more red after your thought entered his own head.

~~~

tagged: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal

[echoghost1]

DannyMay 2021 Day 04: Stars

To Spark Like The Stars

Summary: Danny's Spark was Space.

To ghosts, indulging your Spark was just a thing you did. If you didn't, what was the point in existing? Unfortunately to humans, it just looked like he was being irresponsible and obsessive.

It wasn't his fault it was easier to see at night.

Word Count: 2,339

A/N: This is a follow-up to Out Of This World (And Into The Next), which is my AU where Danny gets ghost adopted by the lunch lady when they first meet.

Also, there's a little bit that has to deal with bullying and fat-shaming.

You can read on AO3 or down below the cut

Danny couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t stay in his room either. He had to go out there. Had to be where he could see the night sky in all its glory.

He really really wanted to go outside.

Unfortunately, his mom had already caught him outside earlier and sent him to his room.

Sure, he could just turn invisible and go out again, but it was the principal of the thing.

She told him to go to his room and he didn’t want her to think he was being disobedient.

But God, the sky was perfect tonight. It was a new moon and that made it so much easier to see the stars.

Not that he didn’t love the moon too.

He sighed and wondered how long it would take for her to fall asleep.

Or maybe he should just look out the window instead?

He glanced over at his window and decided a little was better than none at all.

==============================================

Danny had been reprimanded for sleeping in class no less than three times. Due to how tired he was, he wasn’t sure how many times it really was, but it was definitely three.

Probably more.

Especially considering he was now sitting in Mr. Lancer’s office, for such behavior.

Now was probably a really bad time to yawn.

“Mr. Fenton!” Lancer scolded, “This is exactly what I am talking about.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he said as he fought back another yawn.

“What on earth is keeping you up, Mr. Fenton?”

“Nothing.” He answered honestly.

“You can’t seriously expect me to believe that.” the teacher deadpanned. “I had to wake you five times in my English class alone!”

Ah, more than five then. That was…

Not good.

“Sorry.” he fidgeted in his seat and figured he better elaborate as quickly as possible. “I didn’t mean that nothing was keeping me up, I meant nothing on earth was keeping me up.”

Mr. Lancer just stared at him.

“The stars, the moon. Any and all celestial bodies that can be viewed from here. That’s what keeps me up. If I could see it all during the day, I wouldn’t have this problem.”

Mr. Lancer let out a long sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, “Daniel, I generally like to encourage students to follow their passions but this is getting ridiculous.”

Danny just looked down to his lap instead of responding.

“You know you can’t be an astronaut for NASA if you fail out of high school right? Because if you keep sleeping through your lessons that’s what’s going to happen.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, just do better.”

Danny looked up and wasn’t quite sure what to make of that advice. If it was advice.

“If you want to reach your goals, now is the time to keep your nose to the grindstone. To set yourself up with good habits now, so they become second nature when you really need them as your further your education. You understand that don’t you?”

Danny nodded. He’d heard something similar from Jazz before.

“Good. Now I want you in my classroom after school today to make sure you understand today’s lesson.”

“But!” Danny started to protest but stopped himself. One day of detention was getting off easy. “Okay.”

“Excellent. I’ll see you at three.”

==============================================

After his detention intervention, Danny tried to resist the urge to watch the sky all night every night.

He limited himself as best he could.

He just went out for late-night flights anytime the moon changed phases.

Or whenever any astronomical event took place. Like the passing of a comet or a meteor shower. A conjuncture of their planetary neighbors. An eclipse, even if it wasn’t actually visible from his position on the earth.

Or whenever an important astronomical figure had a birthday. They were all important.

Or whenever there was an anniversary of a launched shuttle or satellite. Not just ones from NASA but any from Earth.

Only going out on these days cut down on his late-night excursions. Maybe not as many as the adults in his life would like, but there were less.

It’s not his fault the space race happened. You couldn’t really blame him for how active the universe was. It was silly and just plain ridiculous to do so.

Besides, he stopped going out on nights when it rained. Even though he could easily fly above the clouds and see, the idea of getting that close to the source of lightning didn’t sit well with him.

He figured it was understandable when he got irritated when Jazz blocked his way out on one of these nights. She didn’t seem to think so.

“Are you just going to stand there all night, or can I go?” he asked after she had sidestepped and blocked him from passing her. Again.

It was times like these that he missed being a skinny little twig. There was no way he’d be able to squeeze past her now.

“That depends,” she countered, “Where are you going?”

“For a walk.”

“Where to?”

“Just around.”

“What’s the lunchbox for?”

“Snacks.”

“You’re going out long enough to need snacks?”

“Maybe! What’s it to you?”

“Danny, I’m worried about you.”

“Why?” he asked trying his best not to sound super annoyed. Which he was.

She sighed, “This isn’t like you. Sneaking out nearly every night. The weight gain.”

“Hey!” how dare she chose now to notice that.

“Well?” she looked pointedly at his stomach, “It’s kind of hard not to notice.”

It was bad enough that Dash had started making fun of him for it now, he didn’t need her added criticism too.

“There’s nothing wrong with a little weight gain.”

“This happened pretty fast, Danny. It’s not healthy.”

“I’m fine, Jazz.” Just because the time he spent in the ghost zone didn’t translate properly didn’t mean anything. Sure he was glad he wasn’t missing for 14 years, or however long it took his second ghost childhood to happen, but this is the type of situation where it became annoying.

“Danny,” Jazz started but he quickly cut her off.

“If you don’t want me to eat, then fine!” he tossed his lunchbox on the counter, “Now could you please just get out of my way?”

“Please just talk to me.”

“About what?!”

Why wouldn’t she just let him leave? If he didn’t hurry he was going to miss it. He needed to be out there. Why was she not letting him go?

“Where do you need to be so badly?” she asked in a voice that was surprisingly still calm despite how irritated he was.

“Just outside. I’m not doing anything wrong. I just need to be outside.”

“Need to?”

“Yes! Now can you move?”

“Why are you so upset?”

Couldn’t she see how much she was hurting him? Maybe not? Did he need to give her an example? Fine, he could do that, “I don’t run into your room and rip all the pages out of your psych books, do I?”

“What? No? But what does that have to do with this?”

“That’s what you’re doing to me! Let me go! Please!” his chest hurt as he begged her. He didn’t want to use his powers if he didn’t have to but she was just making it so hard to resist. It would be so easy to just walk right through her like she wasn’t there. Like he wasn’t there.

But he’d kept his ghostliness a secret this long he could keep it for tonight too.

She searched him with her eyes, trying to find something but he didn’t know or care what, as long as it let him be with his stars. He’d do anything.

“Can I come with you?”

“Fine! Whatever!” he grabbed her hand and nearly ran to the front door.

He barely gave her enough time to grab her coat and slip in her shoes. She was lucky he didn’t just fly off then and there.

They walked in a hurried silence until they got to the park. There was a nice little spot away from everything that had become his go to spot.

Once they were there he let her hand slip out of his as he plopped onto the ground and finally looked up at the beautiful star-filled sky above.

He mentally connected the constellations together and felt the world settle back into place. Or maybe it was just him that was settling.

“Danny I’m sorry for bringing up your weight. I wasn’t trying to pick on you.”

He sighed but couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sky just yet, “It’s fine.”

“Is someone picking on you at school about it?”

“Do we have to talk about this right now?”

“Are you going to let me talk about it later?”

“No.”

“Then now it is.”

He flopped back so he was lying down, “Fine. Yes, but it’s whatever. I don’t even care.”

“It sounded like you cared in the kitchen.”

He folded his arms and really didn’t like how easy it was for her to worm her way into his head like that. She was much too good at this whole shrink thing.

Or maybe she was psychic?

“I guess it’s just a little raw.”

“Did this happen today?”

It happened today, and yesterday, and every day since he made the mistake of letting Dash catch him changing for gym class. That had been a few weeks ago when he was still able to conceal how he looked with his oversized clothes, but that didn’t work anymore because they fit him now.

He was honestly surprised she hadn’t heard about all his new nicknames through the overactive rumor mill of the school. He had very quickly gone from ‘Tiny Puny Baby Fenton’ to ‘Fudgy-Pudgy Piggy Fenton’.

It didn’t help that he had a naturally upturned nose.

It didn’t stop him from feeling self-conscious anytime he laughed for fear that he might accidentally snort instead.

It’s not like he could just stop eating at school! Lunch was important.

He finally looked away from the sky and rolled over on his side. He didn’t want the stars to see him like this. Luckily the moon was already out of view behind the buildings downtown.

“Did you tell anyone?”

“Why bother?”

“Danny!”

He sat up and glared at her, “Do you know what happened the last time I tried to call Dash out? I got detention and told that Dash couldn’t get in trouble because he’s good at football. He gets a free pass because he can throw a ball!” He took as deep a breath as he could and dug his nails into the dirt, his fingers threading their way blindly between blades of grass as he tried to keep his powers from reacting to his heightened emotions, “And what do I get? I get shoved as far as he can cram me into my own locker! He used to be able to get all of me in there but now I don’t fit and that only makes him laugh at me more!”

She pulled him into a hug and it wasn’t until his face was pressed against her shoulder, did he realize he was crying.

He let go of the earth and let the dirt fall through his intangible fingers before he wrapped his arms around her.

He came out here to feel better, not to cry.

After a while, Danny started to feel less sorry for himself as he took comfort from his sister. He readjusted so his head was resting on her shoulder and they sat side by side.

They sat in a comfortable silence up until Jazz broke it.

“Danny?” she started. He just hummed in acknowledgment so she could continue. “What did you mean when you said you needed to be out here?”

“Until I can go up there myself, I want to be here to see it.”

“That’s not a need Danny, that’s just a want.”

He sat up and faced her, “What are you getting at?”

“You want to be an astronaut, you want to see the stars. That’s not the same as needing to. Saying you need it makes you sound a little obsessive.”

“Mom and Dad wanted to prove ghosts existed and they worked every day at it until they did it. You called them obsessive too!”

“Not a great comparison for your case Danny. They are obsessive.”

“Well, what do you want me to do then? Never come out here and enjoy this? Never come out and remind myself why I want what I want?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying?” And why are you saying it?

It’s not like there was anything she could do to change him. This was his Spark. If she tried to take his Spark…

He didn’t want to think about it.

“You just need to pull back a little is all. Yes, it’s nice to come out here and enjoy the view but you can’t do it so much that you end up sabotaging yourself.”

“I did pull back! I don’t come out every night and I don’t stay out as long anymore.”

“That’s a good start.”

“Oh my God, Jazz!” he stood up and dusted off his jeans, “If you’re going to be such a downer let’s just go home.”

“Danny,” she got up quickly as he started to walk back home. “You can’t just keep avoiding your problems.”

“I’m not avoiding my problems. I’m just avoiding you.” He said with a smirk as she caught up to him. “Besides, didn’t you say it’s not good to dwell on negative thoughts? I’m just keeping myself motivated with positive reinforcement.”

“Stargazing isn’t positive reinforcement.”

“It is if it makes me happy, so there,” he blew a raspberry at her for emphasis.

Maybe if he just told her about how Sparks worked she’d understand.

Of course, that would mean telling her his secret and he wasn’t sure he was ready for that.

Or if he’d ever be.

[myhockeyworld87]

Nervous Regrets - Tyler Seguin -Part 15

Word Count:  3405

POV:   Reader

Warnings: None

Notes:  Not really any notes. Not thrilled with this chapter, just getting (Y/N) situation back into Tyler’s world. Though 16 and 17 are turning out nicely. As always feedback is welcome. Peace, Love and Hugs all!

 You woke up the next morning feeling fine; however, Tyler insisted that you still call the doctor to check on your cramping from the previous evening. Of course, the physician agreed with Melissa; saying that sex can definitely cause cramping, and that nothing was wrong, so there was no need to cease the activity. This didn’t stop Tyler from acting like you had the plague anytime you made a sexual advance on him; which had never happened in any of the time that you’d known him. He even went so far as to claim that because it was a game day, he shouldn’t be having sex; like that had ever stopped him before.

 So, as you sat in the office, alone, doing work; your mind would drift off, wondering if you’d be able to keep the man you loved or not. He had strayed once, and not that sex was everything in a relationship; but it was definitely a concern you had as your pregnancy continued on. You knew there would come a time when he wouldn’t find you desirable as the baby grew; you just hadn’t seen his fear of hurting you or the baby as an obstacle so soon. Eventually, sanity would win out and tell you that Tyler would come around, with a little persuasion; which you had no problem providing and so you found yourself looking for some sexy lingerie online, while he napped. Feeling a little bit better, after buying several pieces, which you hoped would entice your man back into bed; you headed into the kitchen to make a late lunch.

You were in the middle of making a sandwich, when the phone rang; Andrea Bishop’s number popping up. “Hey Andrea.”

 “Hi (Y/N), it’s been a long time. I’m sorry I haven’t reached out sooner.”

 “It’s totally ok. You’ve been busy with the baby; and honestly the phone works both ways.” You were just as much to blame for distancing yourself from all the Star’s wives and girlfriends.

 “Still I should’ve called sooner; especially when I found out that you and Tyler are back together. Anyhow, I’m calling now.” You both laughed a little, easing the tension. “So, I was wondering if you were going to the game tonight; I thought we could get dinner together if you were, just the two of us.”

 “Ummm…wow, to be honest I hadn’t really given it much thought.” It wasn’t a lie, you hadn’t really thought about it at all. You knew it was important to Tyler, yet if you were being truthful you were scared; what if people found out you were back together, and stuff started popping up on the internet. You’d both maintained radio silence the last couple months; basically, living in your own little bubble. You had no desire to be drawn back in to be taunted and ridiculed by people who didn’t know you; though eventually it was going to have to happen. Well no time like the present then. “You know, I’d love to go to dinner with you Andrea.”

 “That’s great! I know you’re probably a little apprehensive to go to the game; but honestly, we all miss you. I know everyone will be excited to see you; so, you don’t need to worry about that. We’re all there to support you and Tyler.” Andrea was so sweet; it would be nice to have allies in this journey.

 “That’s so nice of you to say Andrea. You know what, I’ll go. I think Tyler will be really excited.”

 “Excellent! I’ll pick you up at five and we can head to dinner; as long as you can put up with a neurotic mother being away from her baby for a few hours.”

 You chuckled, knowing that you’d be in her shoes, in a few short months. “Well I was hoping to pick your brain about baby stuff.”

 “Oh, for sure. I’ll see you at five.”

 “Bye,” you hung up the phone, excited that you’d get to talk to your friend again; your friend who was a mom and could fill you in on all thing’s pregnancy related.

“So, why will I be excited?” This from Tyler as he was walking into the kitchen. He was rumpled, from sleep; curls on his head going everywhere. The only thing you wanted to do was jump his bones; but you weren’t sure if he was still in his I’m not touching you phase.

 “I’m going out to dinner with Andrea. And then if you can muster me up a ticket, I was going to go to the game with her.”

 His eyes lit up with joy, as if you’d just given him a puppy or something. “Really? You actually want to go to the game?”

 You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to go to the game, but you were going; and maybe you could use it to your advantage. “Well I think I might go. What would you be willing to give me if I go?” you let a hint of seductiveness drip from your voice.  

 He knew exactly what you were looking for as he came up behind you and wrapped himself around you. “You know how much I love you right?” You shook your head yes. “And how much I really want you to be in the arena cheering me on?” Again, you answered yes; this time he turned you to face him. “But babe, I’m not going to say, that last night didn’t scare the hell out of me; and I don’t know if we should have sex again for a while. I know you want to, and hell so do I; but what if you start cramping and we lose the baby.”

 “Tyler, the doctor told both of us this morning; it’s completely normal for that to happen. Nothing is going to happen if we have sex. Probably if we have it more, it won’t happen again.” You were hopeful, that that would be the case; and help put his fears to rest. “Do you know how bad I want you?” Fingers trailing up and down his chest, you let them express your need for him.

 He groaned; you could hear his resolve begin to crack. “Babe, you know I want you. I can’t get enough of you.” He went to say more, but you stopped him.

 “Then show me, and I get that you can’t right now, because of the game; but you can tonight afterwards.” He went to say something but you kept going. “I’ll go to the game and cheer you on, not for any other reason than to support you. I’m just maybe hoping that when you come home, you’ll show me how much you appreciate that.” To accentuate the point, you brought his lips down to yours; kissing him deeply. He moaned, it was purely primal and you felt him harden against you. Looping your hands around his neck, you pressed your body closer to him. It didn’t take long before you felt yourself getting wet; you seemed to be horny all the time around Tyler.

 Your hips thrust into him, seeking some sort of friction to the burning desire growing within you. That’s when he set you at arm’s length, breaking the kiss; you whimpered at the loss of contact. “Babe, I have to go get ready for the game.”

 “Mmmm, I know. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” You knew you were pouting, but didn’t care. Smacking him on the butt, you told him; “Go get ready, before I jump your bones Seguin.”

 He grabbed the sandwich you abandoned when the phone rang; carrying it with him to the bedroom. “Easy babe, I need to keep my stamina for the game.”

 “Well if you’re eating my sandwich, you’d better save some of that stamina for after the game.” He gave you a wink, as he disappeared down the hallway. Grabbing a yogurt and a banana, you headed back to the office to finish up some work before you had to get ready to meet Andrea. Before you knew it, Tyler was standing in the doorframe, dressed in a burgundy suit; that had your libido back in high gear. Instead of getting up and going to him, you sat there, taking in his appearance as he made his way to your side; he was so damn sexy. “Seriously, I don’t think you’re playing fair now. You know I love that suit.”

 “What this old thing?” He trapped you in the chair; arms on each side of you.

 “Just remember two can play this game.” He leaned down and captured your lips in a searing kiss; pulling back before things went too far. “Score one for me babe.”

 “You know I always do my best baby; but I’ll try extra hard with you in the stands. You’re coming down to the locker room, afterwards right?”

 “Yeah, I’ll be there; someone has to give me a ride home.”

 He kissed your nose, as he said; “So now I’m reduced to your Uber driver.” He shook his head. “It’s a good thing you’re cute, or I might make you walk.”

 “Just try it, mister; and you’ll be sleeping in the spare room.” It was definitely an empty threat, considering all you were trying to do to get him into bed. “I love you, go get that W.”

 “Love you too, babe. I’ll see you tonight.” With that he headed out the door to the game. You finished up on the last couple of files you were working on then headed to the bedroom to get ready. It took you a few minutes to figure out what to wear, as most things were packed for the move; eventually you settled on jeans with a white blouse and a jacket that you could throw on at the game. You fed the dogs and let them out before Andrea arrived.

 You jumped in the car, the minute she pulled in the driveway. “Oh my gosh, it’s so good to see you.” Both of you reaching over and hugging each other over the console.

 “I’m so glad you decided to come to the game tonight; I’ve missed you being there.” Andrea was so sweet. The two of you had been close last season; but with the baby and the breakup, you’d both lost touch.

 “I have to admit, I’ve missed going as well. How is everything? You better have pictures of the baby; I’m dying to get my hands on him.”

 “You’ll have to come over. He’s getting so big; it just seems like yesterday I was giving birth.”

 “Well you look phenomenal.” It was the truth, she looked exactly the same as she did before she was pregnant; you’d definitely be picking her brain on how to get that post baby weight off.

 “Please, you’re being too nice; but what about you, you don’t even look pregnant. If Ben hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t believe it; and you’re almost half way through. Do you know what you’re having?”

 “No, we decided to be surprised; it’s a decision I may regret.” The two of you continued to chat about pregnancy and babies, up until the waiter brought your appetizers. “So I have to ask, how did you deal with Ben’s overprotectiveness, or was he not as bad as Tyler?”

 She laughed, “He was probably worse than Tyler. I couldn’t do anything when he was around; don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. Though sometimes, I did want to scream at him. Who am I kidding, sometimes I did.” You joined in her laughter.

 “I felt that way this morning.” Replaying the morning over in your head, you finally asked Andrea the question you’d been dying to since you got in the car. “You don’t have to answer this, but was Ben ever afraid to…well touch you. Ugh, I’m not saying this right.”

 “Are you asking if he was afraid to have sex with me while I was pregnant?” When you nodded your head, she continued. “Well the answer is yes. It was so frustrating, especially in my second trimester. I literally wanted him all the time.”

 “Oh my god, yes! I feel like that all the time lately; and we literally just started having sex again. But then I started to cramp; not bad mind you, though it was enough for him to put me on a shelf and not touch me all day.”

 “Oh Ben did the same thing with me. I’m sure the doctor told you it’s normal; and with me it only happened a couple times. Trust me after the first time, I never told him about the others.” You chuckled, but made a mental note to hide any mild cramps from now on. “Just parade around the house in skimpy clothing and he won’t be able to resist you.”

 That plan was already set in motion with the new pieces of lingerie you ordered. “I’m so glad we decided to do this. Though if I’m being honest, I’m a little hesitant to go to the game.”

 “Why?” The look on her face was genuine and full of concern. “You know all the girls there, were on your side during the breakup; and we all feel horrible for not reaching out to you more during the whole thing.”

 “Oh no, it’s not that.” Truly it wasn’t, you’d gotten along with everyone just fine; and were excited to see them. “It’s all the things that will be said once people find out I’m there. When Ty and I broke up, I read some of the things people said. They were vicious.”

 “(Y/N), you know those people know nothing about us; it’s all speculation. You just need to stay off those sites. I don’t go on them at all; I made that mistake before.”

 “I know you’re right. I just need to shut it all out.”

 “Well anytime that you feel like you need reminded; I got your back.” This was the support you missed when you broke up with Tyler; things might not have been as bad had you not gone on those sites. “Are you going to go to Jamie’s for the Halloween party?”

 “I know Tyler has been talking to Jamie about some sort of costume they want to do; though I hadn’t really decided if I should go or not.” Part of you wasn’t sure if you were ready to jump back into the wives and girlfriend’s life; tonight was a big enough step.

 “Oh, you have to go. Ben and I are going as Beauty and the Beast; his costume is over the top.” Halloween was never your favorite holiday; though you knew some of the players really got into it. “You don’t have to dress up, just come. Besides we have lots of WAGS events coming up for the foundation; so, it’ll be good to ease back in this way.”

 “I probably will. I know it will mean a lot to Tyler. Now I just have to find time to get a costume; between going back to work and moving, I literally feel like I don’t have any spare time.”

 “So, you’re going back to work then?”

 “Yeah, I’ve been trying to work from home a little this week. I really haven’t been there much lately, so I’m sure I’ll be swamped when I go back.” Things had been piling up, you knew that from the few phone calls you’d had into the office. Going back would probably mean added stress you didn’t need; but you saw no way around it. When you’d dated Tyler before it had been hard to juggle work, games and then WAG commitments, and back then you hadn’t been tired all the time; now with the pregnancy you worried how you would fit it all in. The conversation continued, and soon the two of you were headed to American Airlines Center to watch the game.

 You caught up with some of the ladies in the room outside the family and friends section. Everyone was so nice, and excited to see you; it was as if you hadn’t been gone the last few months. Sitting between Andrea and Allie Cogliano for the game, you saw Tyler scan your section when he took the ice; winking and nodding when he finally found you, the smile on his face, quite contagious. Once the game got under way, you gave most of your attention to it; forgetting how exhilarating it was to watch hockey live. The Stars took the lead with a goal from Spezza in the first, all of you cheering as the puck went in the net. By the end of the second though they were down by two. Coming out strong in the third, Jamie scored off a perfect pass from Tyler. As time ticked down, you saw Radulov catch a breakaway, Tyler streaking down the left. Rads faked and dropped the puck back to Tyler, who drew his stick up then violently connected it with the puck, causing it to soar past the goalie into the net. You were on your feet before the horn even sounded, hugging both Andrea and Allie as the slapshot replayed on the jumbotron. The goal tied the score up and gave the team the energy to push through and score one final time; the Stars winning the game.

 Within minutes you and the rest of the women were down in the tunnel, waiting for the guys to finish up in the locker room. One by one the guys slowly emerged, each of them giving you a hug, and expressing how glad they were you were back with Tyler. Finally, Tyler came out, bag in hand as he rushed over to you. “Hey baby, looks like you’re my good luck charm.” He dropped a kiss to your lips, as he pulled you tight against him. “You’re just going to have to come to all the games now.”

 “Is that so?” Your hand went under his suit jacket, to hold him closer to you; batting your eyelashes as you said; “You’re probably going to need to give me some incentive then.”

 He tapped your ass. “What am I going to do with you?” Bending down he kissed you passioniately.

 “Get a room you two.” Jamie teased you both.

 You broke apart to give Jamie a hug. “Hey Jame, it’s so good to see you.”

 “You too (Y/N). We’ve missed that smile of yours around here.”

 “Are you trying to steal my girl, Chubbs?” The three of you were walking out to the vehicles; your hand in Tyler’s.

 “If I thought I had half a chance of stealing her away from you Seggy, you know I would.” He elbowed Tyler, causing you both to stumble; though you easily righted yourself. “So, has he talked you into coming to the Halloween party yet; or do I need to work my magic on you.”

 “If I go, I’ll spoil your whole costume vibe.”

 “You know that’s nonsense.” Tyler kept insisting that you’d fit right in with him, Jamie and Rads.

 “Segs is right, we need a Princess Peach.” The three of them had decided to be Super Mario Brothers characters; though they’d kept their idea under wraps from everyone else.

 There was no point in fighting them, after your conversation with Andrea; you already knew you’d be going. “Fine, slap a crown on me, and call me Princess; as long as you guys don’t think I’m intruding.”

 “Intruding, how could you even think that? Peach is Mario’s girlfriend after all; so, this makes perfect sense.” You rolled your eyes at Tyler.

 “Alright then boys, count me in; as long as I can find a costume.”

 “Excellent! I’ll see you two in a couple days then. Have fun tonight.” Jamie raised his eyebrows at the two of you; insinuating that he knew what would happen when you and Tyler made it home. Too bad that wasn’t a guarantee.

 You slid into the front passenger’s seat as Tyler threw his bag in the back. He grabbed your hand as you headed out of the parking garage, running his thumb back and forth. “Babe, I’m so glad you came tonight; and that you’re going to go to the party. I have to be the luckiest man alive to have you.”

 “Darn right you are.” You teased him back. “Though I’m pretty lucky myself.”

[etraytin]

Quarantine, Day 142-143

July 31-Aug 1 

I didn't write anything yesterday because I was tired and today I am even more tired, so I may just do a quick thing here and backfill in coming days. It is a little strange and possibly even disingenuous to write a quarantine journal for a day when you hosted an actual party, but since my sister's wedding is perhaps the clearest example of how profoundly the novel coronavirus has changed the way we live, I'mma do it anyway. 

Yesterday was full-bore no holds barred wedding prep day. I sobered up enough on Thursday night to drink a ton of water before bed, so between that and my CPAP I managed to avoid a hangover. This was excellent because we were busy all day long. All the furniture arrived for the ceremony and the meal, which mostly consisted of rental chairs and folding tables we borrowed from everybody we knew. I am pretty sure we borrowed some tables from people who weren't even invited to the wedding, which would be a faux pas in normal times but right now everybody understood. I spent a good chunk of the day out running errands, picking up all the stuff we hadn't gotten before and I didn't want my mom or dad shopping for. I ended up going to Starbucks, Farm and Fleet (regional hardware store chain), Walmart and Walgreens all in a row and having to go inside everywhere except Starbucks. The Walmart was busy enough on a Friday that I actually had to wait in line outside for just a little bit before I could go in. 

We did not have a rehearsal or rehearsal dinner for the wedding because we didn't want to have any more people traveling overnight than necessary. We did stage the wedding area and painted spray paint Xs wher everyone was supposed to stand, after mapping it out using whoever was nearby. I believe the bridesmaids at one point included my aunt, my husband, the kiddo, my six year old nephew, my mother, me and my sister. 

(Yes, there were seven bridesmaids and seven groomsmen, and since the bride and groom did not want to demote any attendants for the minimony, the bridal party itself made up more than 50% of the attendees if you include the officiant, the usher, the ringbearer and the flower girls.) The attendants only stood for about five minutes anyway; as soon as the giving away of the bride occurred we all went back to our carefully spaced seats. 

This morning was for decorating all over the structure we put together last night. Signs for every chair and table (there was a seating chart for the ceremony and the meal), decorations for every table, flowers for the arch, photos of older family weddings, and of course coolers full of drinks and bowls and platters full of prepackaged food. No buffet of catered food or picnic of potluck delicacies in these unprecedented times, but we did have a zillion fruit rollups and hundreds of mini bags of chips. We also didn't have cups for the drinks, so everybody drank from the cans or bottles all day. Two of my aunts and my mom's best friend came over first thing and spent hours putting everything together. 

My first morning task was to clean and disinfect the bathrooms, both the main bathroom and the emergency overflow (so to speak) bathroom. Back in the dark ages when I was in college, I worked for a summer cleaning office bathrooms for Servicemaster, so this is something I know how to do well. We had paper guest towels and many soaps and disinfectant wipes standing next to the sink in each bathroom. After bathroom cleaning, I ironed and folded the pocket square for my pending brother in law's suitcoat, and then it was my turn for beauty! The hairdresser I visited earlier in the week came to our house and did hair and makeup for my sisters, my mother, the mother of the groom and I, and he made us look amazing. My hair was curly and my eyes defined, it was very glamorous. I put on my dress and my shoes and borrowed some jewelry from my mom (I always forget to pack something on these trips!) and I was ready.  I waited until much later in the morning to get the kiddo ready. As the usher, his main job was to escort my mom to her seat and roll out the aisle runner. He got a very cute little monogrammed button down shirt, a bowtie, suspenders, and khaki shorts I managed to score on clearance at Walmart on Friday. I brought two pair of khaki shorts with us, but one had ragged hems from excessive play and one would no longer button.The new shorts worked fine though, and he looked great! Trying to get people to wear masks inside the house was kind of a losing endeavor, but we did our best to lead by example. My mask wound up wearing a fair amount of foundation and lipstick by the end of the day. 

Because this was the minimony and not the real main event wedding, my youngest sister altered my middle sister's wedding dress for today rather than wear her own wedding dress. It didn't take much, mostly just pretty lacy shoulder straps to keep everything in place, and the good news was that we already knew how to bustle it. She looked amazing! We helped her get ready and then went outside to line up, and the whole ceremony got going nearly on time. It was a little weird because half the audience seats were empty when the bridal party wasn't seated, and because the audience was so small to start with. This wedding was supposed to be in a performance hall at the University of Illinois with 350 guests and live musicians, but instead it was forty people total, in a backyard with my uncle who is in a band playing iPhone DJ. 

I think that dichotomy had a lot to do with the mood of the day. Don't get me wrong, it was a good day! The wedding went off just like it was supposed to, there were kisses and cheers, the food was good and nothing disastrous happened. People had fun, like a little backyard picnic where two people got married. But the whole day was full of the ghosts of what wasn't happening. There were people who should have been there but weren't. Longtime family friends, older and much-loved relatives, friends from school and church and work who were pared from the list out of necessity. Pretty much everyone who wasn't an attendant was a first-degree relation of somebody in the party. There was no receiving line, and very few hugs or kisses. There was no wedding cake or wedding-cake-feeding, just cupcakes. There was no dancing, so no first dances, father daughter dance, any of that stuff. My sister has been planning her father-daughter dance probably since she watched my dad and I dancing at my wedding sixteen years ago, and it did not happen today. It will happen next year at the maximony, but it's still a lost moment. In a lot of ways, it didn't feel nearly as much like a wedding as I'd thought it would. But it was still nice. 

Later on, once the new in-laws had left and the newlyweds taken off for their hotel, a handful of my parents' close friends came over. These were people who would've been at the center of the wedding planning and prep in normal times, part of the tight-knit group of multi-decade friendships that are the good part of living in a small town. They sat out on the patio around the fire table and drank wine and socialized until after us younger folks gave up and went to lay down. I sat with them for a little while before helping to drag inside the stuff that could be ruined by dew, then sitting down to write this slightly delayed journal. More later, but I'm tired now. 

[thanksjro]

The Transformers, Issues #1-21: A Recap, For Research and Reference  Purposes, Because Otherwise it’s Just Going to Be Confusing

Before we begin, here’s a lightning round style recap on the 21 issues that took place prior to Roberts’ involvement:

Three years after the events of All Hail Megatron, the Autobots are in hiding, trapped on Earth with limited supplies, watching on as humanity attempts to rebuild itself. They don’t offer to help, because that would probably get them shot at- humans are still a little wary of the giant robots that friggin’ destroyed NYC, even if the Autobots are supposed to be the good guys. Sometimes the narration gets a little funny with words.

I know it has multiple meanings, but come on, who talks like this? I’ve always assumed Optimus Prime was the one narrating here, which is… well, IDW Prime has a very self-flagellating and elegant way of speaking. For better or for worse. God help you if Furman is at the wheel.

Of course, because the story needs conflict, Skywatch happens. Skywatch is a human agency whose job is to locate and eliminate all giant space robot threats. Prowl blows cover when the humans make it obvious that the kid gloves are off, ready to kill a Decepticon named Breakdown, and all hell breaks loose, as it is wont to do whenever the Transformers are involved.

Also, everyone looked like this, and it was bad for my eyeballs:

That night-demon is Ironhide. Don’t get too attached to him, he won’t be around for long. But then maybe also do, because he comes back, thanks to the power of comic books and being a giant robot. Do whatever you want, I’m not your mom.

Ironhide’s death leads Optimus to remove himself as leader of the Autobots, and he surrenders himself to Skywatch, because he hasn’t made a heroic sacrifice in the last twenty minutes.

By way of yet more property damage.

Optimus doesn’t name a successor, because he no longer feel fit to choose one. It’s probably actually so there’s plot tension over who the next Prime will be.

Also, Spike Witwicky fucks. He fucks and it’s awful.

With Optimus gone, Hot Rod- Rodimus now, though it’s never established when he decided to change his name or why- gets the hell out of dodge, having had his fill of Earth, and he takes a few friends along with him. Or, at least, he tries to. Decepticons kind of ruin that plan… and then they don’t, because they want in on some of that sweet, sweet getting the hell off of Earth. After all, the war’s over- no point in fighting anymore, right? Of course, Swindle is a part of the group, so take whatever that guy says with a grain of salt. A big grain, like the ones that come out of those fancy sea salt grinders.

Back with the guys who’ve decided to stick around for Optimus’ inevitable return, Bumblebee’s been nominated as the new leader of the Autobots. So much for being the kid appeal character- boy’s got responsibilities now.

Right after democracy happens, Ultra Magnus shows up looking for the boss.

He’s here to look into Ironhide’s death and Optimus’ defection/surrender to the humans. Dude must have booked it to get here, because that was like yesterday.

Any and all interactions between Spike Witwicky and Optimus go pretty much like this:

More people leave Bumblebee’s leadership. Rodimus is hunted down by Ultra Magnus for treason. Swindle channels his inner bisexual and starts dishing out some sweet finger guns.

He has excellent form.

Skywatch uses tech to lock the Autobots into their alt-modes, and starts targeting the defectors, in an attempt to get Optimus to talk to them.

Thundercracker watched TV for a year and a half, then had a midlife crisis, and now he’s following Swindle. Swindle starts asking Rodimus for more troops- er, friends to help them get off of Earth faster, trying to butter him up by calling him Rodimus Prime. I’d love to be able to tell you how that makes him feel, but you try parsing this friggin’ facial expression.

Magnus shows up, tries to arrest everyone, then leaves. Thundercracker has an epiphany about the nature of beauty he’s found in humanity, his soliloquy contrasted with the visual of a baby with a man’s head, and it’s genuinely upsetting to see.

All the faction insignias are photoshopped on, and it’s kind of distracting.

Swindle betrays Rodimus. Quelle surprise. Menasor shows up, and starts throwing robots around. Optimus Prime is released from prison and gets in touch with his inner monster truck. Rodimus steals Magnus’ ship and peaces out.

Over in space, the Decepticon forces have resorted to cannibalism to supplement rations, and Starscream has the Matrix of Leadership on a necklace.

The art switches over to something sort of like Hellboy, and that’s pretty cool. Too bad it only lasts for a single issue.

Skywatch and the Autobots form a tentative alliance. Megatron isn’t actually dead. Two guys in Skywatch throw themselves through a plate glass window for funsies. Spike commits a robot revenge killing. North Korea starts producing energon, and is working with the Decepticons.

Comic books are wild, y’all.

Spike doesn’t respect Bumblebee’s authority, going completely around him to talk to Prime while he’s having some alone time. The US President addresses the public in front of a hyperrealistic American flag.

The Autobots go covert in order to violate the UN sanctions. All the Transformers have vanity plates with their names on them. The Combaticons have a picnic on the lawn and show off their polyglotism. Optimus Prime gets in touch with his inner monster truck. The Autobot Naval forces get involved.

Bumblebee uses his pretty eyes on Thundercracker to try and convince him to help out, seeing as the Autobots don’t have any real air support at present, but it doesn’t work.

They’re very pretty. Thundercracker must have an iron will. Everyone gets weirdly handsome. The phrase “honked off” is used. Optimus Prime gets in touch with his inner monster truck.

I’m like 80% sure that license plate isn’t legal.

China gets involved, and it gets a little weird. Nuclear action is taken.

Cosmos will not be getting a lot more respect around here.

Thundercracker commits acts of terror to destroy the energon plants. Bumblebee addresses the rioting masses, and gets shot with a laser gun for his troubles.

Rodimus makes a pun and gets shot out of the sky. He survives by pulling a Indiana Jones fridge maneuver.

Starscream is turning into Gollum. The Cerebroshells are used with great flourish by Rodimus, who then holds Starscream at gunpoint. He shoots the Matrix.

Wow.

Rodimus attempts to sneak off of the asteroid, only to run into a rebuilt Megatron. Megatron proceeds to shoot him so hard in the chest he’s rocketed into orbit and is missing most of his torso.

The Don Figueroa cover of issue #14 seems to suggest that shooting Optimus Prime in the crotch is a valid plan of attack.

The gun Bumblebee was shot with looks an awful lot like Megatron’s alt-mode. Optimus isn’t mad, just disappointed. Ultra Magnus rejoins the narrative. Not a single human being in the military has a haircut that would pass regulation. The anti-robot cult is introduced. A sign that says “Fuck Robits” is seen in a protest. Soundwave shows up with his awful gremlin children and busts all the captured Decepticons out.

This guy needs to learn to double-knot his laces.

Megatron takes a little vacation in South America.

The gunman who shot Bumblebee was hearing voices from his electronics.

Megatron now comes in grape flavor and the Decepticons have a space bridge.

Megatron has a phone in his hand, and it’s very silly looking. As in, he makes a phone shape with his hand and that just works. I can’t take him seriously. The Megatron guns are actually part of Megatron, and were used to make the gunman shoot Bumblebee. Speaking of Bumblebee, he’s got one doctor keeping him alive at present, and it ain’t Ratchet. It’s some little old man.

Thundercracker comes home to find Starscream has broken in. Starscream has the Decepticon insignia on eight different parts of his body, including the crotchal region.

They show a woman get crushed to death on the news.

Brawn is given a solo mission, finds Starscream, and kicks his ass.

Megatron shows up on Earth. Ultra Magnus transforms to confront him, but he was carrying Bumblebee in his alt-mode and I’m not sure where he went when that happened. Megatron and Magnus have a little banter, then Megatron is shot, where it’s revealed that he’s actually running around in leather chaps and hot pants.

What a fashion icon.

Optimus and his team emerge from the depths of the ocean, having had their plane crash about three issues back. Everyone looks very put-out by the situation.

Brawn helps Thundercracker get to the doctor’s office.

Optimus Prime and Megatron finally have their little reunion. Turns out Megatron dumped all the Autobots with Ultra Magnus inside the city limits, where a bunch of hooligans with Megatron guns live. No word as to where Bumblebee went when Magnus transformed, but he’s here now. Jazz takes Spike and his coworker to save the day.

Megatron is having a moment.

Optimus fucking shoots Soundwave in the face, thus making himself just as bad as Megatron…? Not really how war works, but okay! Crisis averted.

Just kidding, because Jazz shoots a cop so hard he vaporizes. Good work, buddy.

Optimus goes on a solo mission to go kick Megatron’s ass, and jumps out of a plane, punching through the Decepticon’s ceiling. Megatron invites everyone to come out and watch him and Optimus beat the shit out of each other. Cosmos and Jetfire throw a satellite at Megatron from orbit.

An excellent question.

Megatron brings Optimus over to Omega Supreme’s digs and surrenders himself, then is promptly placed in the full-body harness. It’s… it’s something. Megatron reveals that it was Spike who murdered Scrapper the Constructicon like fourteen issues ago. Optimus is all “no waaaay, he’d never do that, I’d trust Spike with my life and also my wallet.”

Optimus immediately puts Prowl on the case though.

Rodimus falls down onto a planet, the Matrix having superglued itself to his chest to keep him from bleeding out. He looked pretty dead the last time we saw him, but he’s doing loads better now. He’s captured and made to be the power source of a large ship, so those who inhabit said ship can get off of the doomed planet they’ve been trapped on for ages. Rodimus ain’t cool with that, so he blows up his restraints with his flame-out ability and runs off. He hides in a cave, only to be attacked by a massive monster. Don’t worry though, because he’s saved by the mysterious Jangle Man.

The Jangle Man is Wheelie, who’s gone full Castaway.

Rodimus gets patched up and then watches Wheelie get high off music.

One of the lackys that brought Rodimus aboard the first ship shows up and attacks, only to be subdued and immediately spills all the beans he has. Rodimus channels his inner anime character.

Rodimus cooks up a plan to get everyone home, and it involves trickery, lies, and the power of music to tame the savage beast. He straps his chest into the power cables and, with only an addled Wheelie to watch over him, does the thing.

Rodimus wakes up to the Matrix having been removed from his chest. Problem: Wheelie piloted them to Cybertron, which is currently a gigantic, uninhabitable mess at the moment. Rodimus tries to get them pointed in the direction of Earth, but that doesn’t work out so hot.

Someone breaks into the ship. It’s Ironhide and Sunstreaker. Rodimus declares himself dead. He’s not, but he might end up that way if he lets the scout that just saw them loitering around outside the ship get back to his boss.

Galvatron comes into the picture, and Rodimus books it. They use their rations- because energon is blood, food, fuel, get well soon card, birthday present, and everything else for the Cybertronians- to power the ship and head back to Earth.

Speaking of Earth, Bumblebee’s not dead. He’s got a cane now. Rodimus shows up, gets some weird Bible-like captioning, and Bumblebee about has a conniption over the Matrix. Rodimus is all ‘whatever, little yellow dude’, and so is everyone else, as Rodders goes up to Optimus, hands him the Matrix, and then is officially named Rodimus by the space pope.

Optimus decides he needs to go to Cybertron to kick Galvatron’s ass, and invites anyone who wants to come with.

Bumblebee’s mad that no one’s listening to him anymore, not that they were really doing that anyway.

Optimus and his team fuck off into space, beginning their journey back to Cybertron.

Prowl gets a few minutes alone with Megatron prior to that, though. He’s well on his way to cracking the case of Scrapper’s murder.

Thundercracker fucks off into the sky, surely heading back to his bachelor pad to catch up on his stories.

And THAT, dear children, is the entirety of The Transformers, up to issue #22. We’re all caught up and ready for what’s to come. 

[squirrelly831]

Making Up With Mom [Daehyun and Youngjae]

This follows the Child Makes Mom Cry. These got long, soooo I made three parts.

Enjoy

Daehyun

It had been months without major problems for Amber and the kids. Kwangmin had went to school religiously, though that was partially because Amber drove him every day to make sure he went. Joy was excelling in her sports and Haru was just Haru.

Daehyun had a business trip in Japan and he wasn’t too fond with the fact of leaving Amber after the issue their oldest caused. However, after much affirmation from his wife, Daehyun took the trip, but kept his phone on him everywhere he went to check on her. It wasn’t that he doubted her, but he knew how out of control their kids could get.

Amber was home early from a photo-shoot for a family when she heard the front door swing open. She heard the heavy footsteps of who could only be her son and she looked up from her magazine just as Kwangmin entered. “Hey, Kwang” she greeted with a smile. “How was school?” After the incident with him and his mom, Kwangmin and Amber had an obvious tension. Though, Amber tried hard to overlook it, it burned her to know her son had called her a bitch.

Kwangmin held out a paper, “Look ma!” He grinned widely as Amber reached over to see the paper.

It was a photography contest and Amber tilted her head, “A contest? But you don’t do photography?” Kwangmin moved beside her rounding the table and pointed further down the paper. “Winners...” She read off the third and second place. Her eyes widened at the first place, “Jung Kwangmin...” She sat there absorbing what she read. Her head whipped up at her son, “You won... a photography contest?” Her words died on her lips as she looked at the picture. It was her sleeping on the floor of her office. Her camera was in her outstretched hand and her other hand was tucked at her chest. Scattered around her was her computer with the project she was working on and a calendar and school schedules she had near her to make sure she didn’t miss a school event.

Underneath the picture was the caption To the woman who has loved me unconditionally from birth even when I’m selfish and rude. Amber looked up from the picture to her son with tears gathering in her eyes, “When did you--”

“I know it’s not much. I still have a lot of making up to do for what I did and said, but--” Amber cut him off as she got off her seat and pressed him into her as she hugged him tightly. Kwangmin melted in his mom’s arms as he felt his eyes watered. He buried his head in her chest. “I love you” his voice broke.

Amber kissed the top of his head as her own tears fell, “I love you, my prince.”

Daehyun entered the house exhausted from his trip. He made his way to the kitchen where he saw his wife and son embracing. His hand behind his ear as he pressed his other hand at the doorway. A smile graced his face as he watched them.

Amber looked up to him and grinned, “Hun look at this! Our son is so skilled!” She waved him over with one hand as she still had her other arm around their son.

Youngjae

Hayeong was grounded after lying to her mom and disrespecting her. To say it didn’t annoy Hayeong was an understatement of the century. She lost her phone and all electronic privileges. At school, she could talk to her friends, but the moment she was home she was back in prison. Hayeong was going crazy. She knew what she did was wrong, but she didn’t think what she did deserved such a harsh punishment.

At school after the weekend that caused her prison sentence, Hayeong entered her classroom to the usual mindless chatter. However, when her classmates saw her, they went silent. Hayeong wasn’t the most talkative with her classroom, but that never got her classmates’ attention before. She cautiously walked passed the prying eyes and to her desk where Iseul sat pale and concerned. “What’s going on?”

Iseul jumped out of the seat a with a look of defeat, “I texted you yesterday--I tried to stop them, but Yeonmi and Doojeon wouldn’t stop...”

“I’m grounded because of this weekend. What are you talking about?”

Iseul looked around the classroom before she got up and pulled Hayeong from the class. As they exited, Doojeon walked past and gave Hayeong a wink causing her to blush. Iseul glared at him as she pulled her friend down the hall.

“Okay, you’re acting crazy, what’s wrong?”

Iseul bit her lip, “In the closet--what happened?”

Hayeong grew flush, “Nothing. My mom entered right before Doojeon and I kissed.”

“That’s not what he said--”

Hayeong paled, “What did he say?” Inseul fell silent, “WHAT DID HE SAY?”

“He said that you let him--do stuff to you.” Hayeong shook her head, “I know you wouldn’t do that!” Iseul said quickly, “But then Yeonmi was told and she told--”

“Everyone...” Hayeong’s eyes watered, “Why would she--” Hayeong ran down the hall to Yeonmi’s class. She ran inside to see Yeonmi with her usual group of friends laughing loudly.

Yeonmi’s eyes met Hayeong’s and she grinned, “Well well, if it isn’t the slut.” Her group let out a round of giggles.

Hayeong glared at her with watery eyes, “Nothing happened! Why would you lie about that?”

Yeonmi’s eyes twinkled, “How was it? With a 8th grader no less” she whistled ignoring Hayeong’s silent pleas.

“I hate you.” She ran out of the classroom into the nurse’s office to call her mom.

When Allison got the call from Hayeong, she was confused. She answered the phone to hear her daughter’s sobbing begging for her to leave the school and told her what was going on. Allison left her work in a hurry. When she got to the school and went straight to the office, “Hi, I’m here to pick up my daughter Yoo Hayeong. But, I want to talk to the principal first.” The anger in her voice left no room for the office clerk to argue.

Hayeong got called down to the office with her bag on her slouched shoulders. Her mom didn’t say anything about picking her up and she had assumed the rumor had reached the principal. She opened the door just as her mom exited the principal’s office. “Mom...”

Allison looked to her daughter, “I want to be called the moment you get in contact with the parents. If I don’t hear from you, I will take my own actions.” She didn’t give the principal a second glance, which the principal seemed far too thankful not to get. “Come on, Hayeong” she touched her daughter’s shoulders and headed out the school. “So where do you wanna go? Ice cream and a movie? Arcade? Maybe karaoke.”

Hayeong slipped inside the passenger seat in silence as her mom rounded the car to the driver’s seat. “Are you mad?”

Allison let out a breath as she buckled her seat belt. “At the situation, yes. But you, no” Allison gave her daughter a smile. “I’ll put an end with problems soon, but for now--ice cream and a movie? OR arcade and karaoke?”

Hayeong’s lips curved into a smile as tears slipped down her cheeks, “Ice cream and a movie. Please...”

Allison leaned over and pressed a kiss to her daughter’s head, “Ice cream and a movie it is!”

“Thanks mom” Hayeong whispered, “I’m sorry for this weekend...”

Part I ||  Part III

Credit to gif owners

Written & revamped by Squirrelly831

♕ REQUEST

☮ B.A.P MASTERLIST

∞ ULTIMATE MASTERLIST

[sasuhinasno1fan]

Finding light in an unexpected place- Shallura Week Day 5

I couldn’t think of an idea for yesterday’s prompt which is why this one is a big longer. When I saw the prompt, I thought of a scene from a telenovela called Rebelde. It used to be on Netflix, not anymore. One of the main girls, Lupita, was really in love with her boyfriend and they wanted to get married, but at the start of s2, he left to go to Isral and his mom, who doesn’t like Lupita, would stop any letters from going though between them, which in thinking he doesn’t love her anymore, Lupita moves on to a guy named Santos. When I think of Lupita and her first boyfriend, I realise he was kinda sufficating her and not letting her grow. Santos never hurt Lupita except for like one time he lied when he got aressted (not his fault) and I realised that Santos was actually the person who helped Lupita to be the best version of herself. So this was pulled from one of my fav scenes between them, when Lupita cuts Santos’ hair. A warning as there is mention of a principal being a preying on teenage girls, but he’s only mentioned for 3 or 4 lines. Hopefully that doesn’t take away from it, please enjoy. And yes, Noctis from FFXV is a student there. @shalluraweek Light/Dark

Allura couldn’t sleep. The light from Noctis’ lamp wasn’t the problem. She was used to the lamp being on, it was what happened earlier. She’d been trying to move on from Lotor, the guy she almost married, the same guy who hadn’t written to her, called her, texted her at all since he went to England for a semester long internship. She knew her uncle was happy to never see Lotor again – he never liked him or how he seemed to take forever to stand up to his mother – but still. Lotor was the first guy she ever liked and while she had her problems and ups and downs, she was so sure he was the guy she’d spend her life with. Most people didn’t find their person when they were in their sophomore but she was so sure she did. Now, she wasn’t sure. With no contact from Lotor and Lotor’s own mother came to tell her that Lotor’s ex-girlfriend was at the same internship and she was so sure they were together. she knew Lotor’s mom didn’t like her, but she didn’t need to hear the utter glee from her. Lotor didn’t love her anymore.

So, she tried to move on. One of the new student’s in their class was Ryan Kinkade. He was an excellent marksman, one who would surely bring their school fame in archery competitions since Lance had stopped doing them since the start of their sophomore and a lot of people took notice of him. She had stopped him from punching another new student’s lights out when he had made a mockery of Hunk and they got to talking, growing closer. He helped her gain a closer relationship with her half-sister Luka. When Luka mentioned she had a crush on someone, she would have never guessed it would be Ryan. Not until they decided to introduce their guys to each other, Ryan was the only one to meet them in the school’s formal area and Luka planted one on him, so hard they both went tumbling to the floor. She didn’t stick around after that.

It was starting to feel like she would have no luck with moving on and find love and that was the only thing she wanted. Lotor didn’t deserve her tears and hurt if he was forgetting her without even telling her goodbye. Not to mention how she was going to deal with Luka. The girl hated her already, seeing how their dad and her mom seemed to love Allura. Just this small thing was making them close and she was afraid that if Ryan told Luka the truth, they’d be right back where they started, or worse.

She got up, being as quite as possible so she didn’t wake Pidge or Noctis up and left the room. She hoped their hated prefect and lapdog to their principal wasn’t around to catch her up past curfew. She left the dorm area and went to the school area, hoping to maybe do some thinking in the statue that sat in the hallway that students would always sit on. Unfortunately, the area was occupied by Keith and Lance. Lance had been one of her first friends when she came to Garrison Elite and she was able to see the person who hid beneath his popular façade but sometimes she was jealous of him. He and Keith did not get along when they first met and now, they were the strongest couple in their whole class. She just wanted to feel that way with someone. She continued walking, eventually reaching one of the areas that students could meet their parents or people who were only here for a quick meeting before dropping on the couch, her mind still going over everything in her head. She felt completely lost on what to do and honestly, it was all Lotor’s fault. She was willing to wait for him, he only took 2 weeks to get back together with his ex and she didn’t ask for the extra stress of him while trying to make a relationship with her sister. Why was it nothing ever seemed to just be simple for her?

In a fit of anger, she picked up a magazine and threw it. One became another, and then some of the thinner coffee table books and before she knew it most of the stuff on the table in front of her had been thrown either on the floor or across the room. It was kinda nice to let her anger go and not have people judge, teacher’s pet goodie two shoes Allura Altea.

“OW!”

If of course one of the objects didn’t just land on someone. The room was empty so she peeked over the back of the couch that was against the wall. Looking a bit annoyed as his headphones were pushed off was their class’s newest black sheep, Takashi Shirogane.

“I’m so sorry.” She squeaked. Normally, even if a person looked mean, she wouldn’t go fear first. It usually paid off and she gained a new friend who’d be willing to pound a few heads in if she asked, but the last time she talked to him, he snapped at her. To be fair, she understood why.

People called him the freakish ghost. He was quiet, sullen – honestly, he gave Keith a run for his money – and looked out of place with his long hair. Their principal had gotten fired for a period of time and when he wasn’t there, the new principal, Principal Sendak, was a total nightmare. In front of the whole class, to teach them about respect, he cut Takashi’s hair off, leaving the uneven mess that sat on his head. He took off the moment they were done and Allura followed, trying to see if he was ok. She offered to fix his hair but he snapped at her, telling her to leave him alone. It had been weird how after he seemed to follow Sendak around with a camera, saying he was doing a documentary and was then shaking the head of the school board’s hand when Sendak had been removed for reasons unknown. Pidge was sure he had something to do with it, but he wouldn’t admit it.  

“It’s fine. My fault for hiding behind a couch to listen to music.” He got up and climbed up onto the couch, Allura bounding herself back onto the couch she was on before. “It’s Allura right? What are you doing up so late? Part of the club of sleepwalkers?”

“Sleepwalkers? This school has so many stairs, seems like a hazard.”

“True, it’s just weird to see someone up at this hour. I’m always up this late listening to music and lurking around like a ghost.”

“No. I just couldn’t sleep but I’ll go. Sorry again.” She got up to go when he called out to her.

“Hey, no wait. Sit, I wanted to talk to you.” He asked as he moved to the couch she’d been on before and patting the seat next to him. After hesitating a little, she took a seat. “I wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize? What for?”

He pulled on a strand of his hair. “This? After Sendak cut it, you offered to fix it for me and I snapped at you. You were being nice checking on me and I shouldn’t have been so rude.”

Allura gave him a small smile. He was much different than the dark shadow who seemed to lurk in the back of their classroom. “it’s ok. You were mad and you had every right to be. Look, whenever you want me to, I can fix your hair. I’m really good at it. I do Noctis’ hair for him when it gets too long and we have to keep telling him off for his hair clogging the shower.”

He looked confused, which she got. “Isn’t Noctis a guy? Why is he taking showers in your room?”

“He is a guy, in every sense except his birth certificate.”

“He’s trans, but he still rooms with girls?”

“It’s usually not allowed yes, but there weren’t any students who needed special rooming the year he came in and, in this year, either. He had to sign a bunch of forms and get our families permission but my uncle and Pidge’s mom said he could room with us. Besides, Noctis is into guys, cringes at the idea of seeing either of us naked and any guy stupid enough to make a remark about being able to have sex with us whenever he wanted is on the receiving end of his fists. His sponsor felt better that he rooms with people who wouldn’t try to take advantage of him and we’ve proved ourselves so.” Allura shrugged, “that’s that I guess.”

“Huh. Must know way too much about girls then.”

“Yes, but he does know what to get us if we’re feeling crampy. Anyway, his bedhead style is thanks to me so if you like how his looks, come find me.”

“How about now?”

“Now? It’s like, late.”

Takashi gave his own shrug. “Well I can’t sleep and I’d actually like to fix this soon. If you can. Which of course you can’t since we don’t have a kit.”

“Oh no, don’t worry. My uncle keeps his in his office in the kitchen. Don’t worry, he keeps the kitchen and office clean. I’ll go get it, but you have to do something for me. You need to tell me why you were shaking the hand of the head of the school’s board, and no evading the question.”

“Ok. How about I give you a head start? Remember how your friend tried to point out to Sendak that he could do anything to me without my parent’s permission, which he said he had? He lied, the only calls from the school my parents got where to let them know the principal had been removed and a new one came in and that new principal was fired and the other reinstated.”

“What?” Allura didn’t divulged in gossip much but she had to know the full story for this, but Takashi just shooed her.

“Go on. You’ll get the full story when you get back.”

She let out a huff. For Mr. Doom and Gloom, he was having a lot of fun with this.

                                          ______________________

“He what!?”

Allura understood why people could gossip with their hairdressers. As she started to give Takashi an undercut and shorten the side on top, he gave her the whole story as to why he been doing a documentary of Sendak. It was a revenge plot and it all stemmed from finding out that their darling new and improved Principal had a thing for younger girls. There were pictures of students who’d been using the pool or them in the gym uniforms, even pictures of girls as they went up the stairs. They had the perverts in their classes, who usually learnt with a harsh slap to the face but never did they have a teacher or adult figure who’d do that to them. Takashi was able to get footage of Sendak spying on girls, even trying to force himself on one. He showed it to the school’s Board of Directors under the guise of showing the good Sendak had been doing for the school since he started. Sendak was removed and their old principal was reinstated, because they knew with a daughter in the school, he’d never harm any of the students.

“That’s why I was shaking his hand. He was thanking me for exposing him. He felt bad he just accepted the first good guy with a nice resume.”

“Oh my god, what a creep! I can’t believe we would have had him for ages.” Allura unclipped the white fringe she’d been able to save and took her sheering scissors and started to trim lightly. “I guess we should be thanking you. Is it also true you helped Pidge find out about her lying boyfriend?”

“It’s one thing to want to still date a girl, it’s another to use a fake illness to do it. My twin brother has an invisible illness and seeing how I couldn’t go and punch the guy for lying, I thought I might as well show him as the really sick guy as he was.”

“I was tempted to go take a stab at him myself. My youngest sister, Fara, she has down syndrome. She doesn’t let it stop her, she’s amazing and bright, but people like my mom only see a helpless person who needs constant coddling and anyone who offers to help is looking down on her.” Allura thought about how she was going to leave school with Lotor before he’d been accepted into the internship. She came to Garrison Elite so she’d have the best chance at becoming a doctor. She almost gave that up for a guy who didn’t seem worth it anymore. “I almost forgot why I was here in the first place. I want to be a doctor so I can help people like my sister, so they don’t have to feel like they’re not normal. And I almost gave it up for a guy.”

“Did he suffocate your light?”

“My light? No, Lotor was…” Lotor had been dating someone when he became interested in Allura and wouldn’t break up with his ex because he’d been scared of his parent’s reaction. When he and Allura broke up, he’d throw such a fit if she was ever around another guy who was interested in her. He wanted her to become a house wife and only dropped the idea when Professor Thace had been the one to point out how miserable she was. “Maybe he was suffocating my light.”

“Guess I should be glad he didn’t. we need more people with your kind of light. Makes the darkness look not so scary.”

They shared a smile before Allura fluffed his fringe out, dusting away any stray bits of hair and handed him a mirror.

“Wow. Allura, this is amazing.” Takashi complimented as he ran his hands over his shorter hair and the prickly feeling of his new undercut. “You are good.”

“I am the person people go to to fix their hair. I’m glad you like it. I’ve had time to think about how to fix it since it happened. I would have left it a bit long but Sendak really hacked at it, so I’m glad you like it.”

“You are truly something Allura. I can clean up the hair if you want to go put the kit away. I won’t be sleeping for a while, I know that.”

“Are you sure?” Takashi nodded, already using the towel to scoop up any hair. “Thanks Takashi.”

“Shiro, call me Shiro. My parents are the only ones to call me by my first name.”

“Shiro then. Thanks for telling me what happened and listening. Can I do that in public now or are you going to ignore me?”

Shiro let out a laugh, “Don’t worry. I won’t be throwing this little light out of my life anytime soon.”

Allura felt his face go hot but she was happy. It felt like for the first time in a while, that things were looking better, like as Shiro said, her light wasn’t suffocated anymore.

[munofsilver]

Akumatized AU The Pharaoh

Still working on this. You can read it on my Ao3 account.  

Now Alix and I have something in common. Now I also know how she felt on her birthday. Now I understand why she didn’t want to come home at first, if she did, in fact, felt that way. One good thing I guess is that I no longer need glasses. Sadly I’m so incorrect when I transform. I’m not sure if it’s me or Hawkmoth that made those Egyptians Gods powers false. Since he’s the cause of everything, I’m going with its Hawkmoth’s fault. Seems fitting since I doubt he knows anything about Egypt let alone their gods anyways.

Should I have even been called Pharaoh? According to Egyptian lore, why am I thinking about that now? All this happened near home, so one good thing, no awkwardness trying to get home. This might affect my studies and job. If I stay in my office then this won’t affect my studies at all, just can’t travel. I guess I’m okay with that. I can stay at home with Alix while our father is out. No more worried about leaving her alone for long periods at a time. Last time we left her alone, we came back to a passed out Nathaniel, a crying Natalie, and a laughing Alix. We still don’t know all the details. I walk back into the Louvre and head home. For once I’m glad the Louver is empty. I enter into the empty apartment my family lives in that’s inside the Louvre. I will never understand how father was able to get this apartment to work in here. With enough time, my father can talk his way through anything. Something I never got, I don’t think Alix did either. I know she’s out with Nathaniel and Kim. Doing what I have no idea if I had to guess something to do with them being akumatized. Hopefully, no one will get hurt. In anger, father stormed off into his office when I told him about my idea. He was just mad because I wanted to use a vital artifact for something. I can understand that if only I did before. Me sighing is the only sound I hear. I know what I did was broadcast live. I think the girl should stop with her blog. Doesn’t she know how it feels seeing what we did under his control? She was akumatized herself, you think she wouldn’t want to do this. Teenagers are hard to understand. Even when I was around that age. “Alix, how many times do I have to tell you? No skating inside,” I hear father yelling. That can only mean one thing. Time to tell my family about what happened. If they didn’t already see it on that Ladyblog. I head towards the door, I will be the first thing they see. Just want to get this done and over with. I bet Alix was also thinking the same thing. Another good this today not my birthday, that’s next month. Not that is matters now that I think about it. “You got hit too,” I heard my younger sister shout. Why did she have to say it so loud? Father enters behind her. “Son, is this because of our argument this afternoon?” Father looks ashamed of himself and sorry for me. Both his children have been akumatized. “I’m sorry for getting mad at you son,” father places a hand on my shoulder. “It’s alright. I should have known better,” I try to smile, but it seems I can’t move my face. I must look odd when I talk. I hear Alix laughing, making father and I both glares at her. “I’m sorry, Jalil, I know you’re mouth is moving, but with that mask on it looks like a kidnapped person with duct tape over their mouth.” Neither of us was amused by that. I was right about looking odd. It seems my eyes move just fine. I only hope I can take the mask off. If not, then how am I going to eat? I try to take the mask off it seems I can only uncover my mouth. That’s something right, I guess. “Don’t worry son. I’ll talk to your boss. I’m sure she won’t mind you still working here. Just unable to travel out of the country. We shall see.” I don’t plan on leaving France like this. I don’t even want to leave Paris. How can one moment of weakness lead to a lifetime as an outcast? “I understand father. Thank you.” Alix didn’t laugh this time. She’s also no longer here. Father leaves the room when Alix returns with a piece of paper. I take it so I can read. “An Akumatized support group?” I will admit it does sound promising. “Nathaniel and I go. Maybe you would like to join us. Our next meeting is coming up soon,” Alix points to the place, date, and time of the next meeting. “If I don’t work, I’ll be there. When did Nathaniel get akumatized?” “Did I forget to tell you? Sorry, but yeah most of my class is,” Alix starts to list all the people in her class that been akumatized. Six, seven when you count Alix eight in her school with Aurore. It seems College Francoise Dupont is a favorite place to get akumatized. I wonder if there is something there people should look into. If most of the students there are getting akumatized, something must be going on. I should write a letter to Mr. Damocles. As father would say it, I shall. I got time before dinner. It’s Alix turn to cook away ways, I just have to do dishes afterward. In my room, I take some blank paper out of one of my many notebooks and get to work on the letter. If I finished in time, I could drop it off at either the school or mailbox at night when ’they’re not many people around. I just need to word it right. “Come and get it,” I hear Alix calling. I didn’t know so much time has passed. One look at my letter before I temporarily leave it, one full page. That should be long enough. Just put on a closer, and that should be it. Dinner was quiet, which is odd in this house unless we have guests over. After the awkward silence of dinner, I hurry with the dishes. Done now back to that letter. I would like to finish it as soon as I can. You can think of this as a weakness, but when I put my mind on something, I tend to focus on nothing but that one thing until it’s done. That is something we got from our mom. I might be a good thing she can’t see us like this. Knowing mom, she wouldn’t mind and go on as nothing happened. She never let anything get to her. I wish I could have been like that. Alix is, you can tease her all you want she won’t care. Unless you go after a friend, then watch out. I remember one time she kicked this guy in the groin when he was making fun of Nathaniel’s hair. She nearly killed someone that made Natalie cry. Cops were called and everything. We all saw a dark side of Alix that day. Good thing Hawkmoth was not around that time. I would hate to see the akuma that Alix would turn into. Now is not the time to get lost in memories. Not when I have work to do. Took a while but I finished the letter. Placed it in an envelope, addressed, and stamp it. I sent it to the school since I don’t know where Mr. Damocles lives and I don’t want to look it up, just in case. Since it’s so late at night, the streets are almost empty. I take the letter to my office I have a mail drop off box in there. All offices in the Louvre does. I know around six in the morning the mail worker comes and empties all those boxes. That reminds me I need to close it, so they will know there’s something inside. “Now where did I put it?” I look all over my office. Like I do everything I need to mail something out. Just like all other times, I don’t notice the top of the box under the box until I finished looking everywhere. With the top on the box, I leave. Instead of heading home, I stay in my office for a while. Sitting at my desk, I go over the notes of the stupid idea I had that got me turned into this. Why did I get so worked up over nothing? My father was right about using artifacts. What if the staff I wanted to use broke, got lost, or stolen? I don’t know about the stolen part. If it got lost and someone found it and took it home, is that stealing? I crumble up the pointless notes and toss them in the trash. How did I even come up with a silly idea like that? You can never bring back the dead no matter what. Maybe I wanted it to work so I can see mom again. With a sigh and a heavy heart, I leave my office for the night. Back home, I stay in my room until morning. I wake up early knowing it’s my turn to make breakfast since dad did yesterday. Once I open my door, I smell freshly baked bread, that’s odd. I don’t think we ever had that before. I peek my head in the kitchen to see Alix making breakfast, trying too. The bread is burnt, but the macaroons she made are excellent. Never had those for breakfast before. Alix is known to only being able to bake small things. At least there wasn’t anything on fire. “Good morning breakfast is almost ready,” Alix cheers. “I know it’s your turn today. We just won’t tell dad I made breakfast.” Alix tosses the burnt bread into the trash. “What’s on the menu?” I asked jokingly. “I was thinking waffles, but then I remember we don’t have a waffle maker. So pancakes and freshly baked bread was the next plan. I guess I need some else to go with the pancakes,” Alix laughs. “How about something to drink?” I join in laughing. “Right,” Alix opens the fridge. “Milk or juice?” “I’m fine with juice, don’t forget coffee for dad,” I look to see the coffee pot is full, “If you want it to look like I made this then just toast would be fine. I always make toast when I make breakfast.” “That what I was planning on doing with the bread,” Alix defends herself. I go and make some toast while Alix pours everyone a drink of their choice. We both set the table and wait for our father. He comes in like he doesn’t need sleep like he always does. “Good morning, my offsprings. How are you?” “Fine, father,” I answered. “Offsprings. That’s now. Usually, he calls children.” “Are you saying you don’t know what…” “I know what offspring mean.” Everyone laughs. It’s good to see Alix, and I can still joke around with each other. After breakfast, Alix does the dishes while our father gets ready for work. I, on the other hand, go back into my room. In the little mirror I have on my dresser I notice my mask it

back on. “I left this on the table, how did it get back on?” I guess this is a surprise for being akumatized. At least I don’t have to worry about shaving anymore. After grabbing a towel, I make my way to the restroom. I quick shower before I leave. It seems this black isn’t part of the suit. When I got akumatized, my skin color changed. I’ve been walking around half naked this whole time and forever. That might make it harder for me to find a date. I hope dad doesn’t want grandkids because I don’t think Alix or I will find anyone to marry like this. That’s another thing I never thought off. Would I be able to conceive a child like this? After the shower father is at work while Alix took over the TV to play some video game. I forgot no school today. Looks like she will be home alone, just like our father I have to go to work. I need to tell my boss what happened if she doesn’t already know. At work, I found out my boss, in fact, knows what happened to me, since my father explained everything to her and me. Better then her finding out while watching me on the news, I think. I did find her waiting for me in my office. That something that only happens when she wants to talk to me. I have a bad feeling about this. “Hello, Mr. Kudbel. Don’t worry, you’re not fired or in trouble. I have a job opportunity for you if you are willing. You can keep doing what you are now, this will be more like an addition. I was thinking the way you look now would be perfect for tours of the Egyptian exhibit for class trips.” “I will admit that it does sound promising. I can do that, Mrs. Brown.” She smiles and leaves my office. Before she goes, she turns to me, “You do have one Thursday morning at eight.” I nod, and she closes the door. I did tours before, in fact, that was my job before I got promoted. When I say promoted I mean started my third year at University. I’m so glad I was able to graduate from University before this. Poor Alix she’ll have to go through her graduation the way she is. Not only that but everything. As an adult, I don’t have much to worry about being akumatized as much as someone around Alix’s age. I remember Nathaniel also got akumatized. I hope nothing will happen to Natalie; she’s way too young to deal with things like this. Even though she needs too because of her brother, as Alix would say, “Got hit.” I better get to work, my last study failed, so I need to find something new. Looking at my messy desk, I start to clear it. The papers, books, and notes are for a study that over. Knowing me, I’ll look these over again like I do with all my other studies. Never know what you’re going to find. I just need to think of something else for a bit. Then I got an idea. Ladybug was on that papyrus, maybe I can go deeper into that. There might be many Ladybug during history, and Cat Noir also. After I put everything in its place I return to the papyrus I’m glad Ladybug healing wave was able to fix. I had to take a closer look, but it’s there clear as day. Someone with the same yo-yo weapon as Ladybug dressed in old Egyptian dress. How did she fight in that? I’ll never know. Right now that’s not important and shouldn’t focus on. “Was this in my notes at all?” I think out loud. “I just put them away only to take them out again,” I laughed. That happens way too much with me. According to dad, I get that from mom. Same with having a messy desk. Anyways I need to focus on my new idea. I have a tour to do in a few days, and Alix wants me to go with her to this support group. I will admit it does sound like a good idea, on the other hand, what all can it do? I guess I’ll find out…...when is it again? Do I still have that paper Alix gave me? I think I left it in my room at home. I could call her and asked her. I shouldn’t call when she’s at school. No big deal, no need to worry. Around one there was a knock on my office door. “Come in.” The door opens, and dad enters. “Did you have lunch yet?” He asked. I look at the clock on the wall above the door. I didn’t know it was that late already. “No, I didn’t.” “Let’s have lunch. Father and son,” he smiles. I take off my mask, and we both head out for lunch. That itself is rare, not only does father prefer to only eat at a restaurant on special occasions, at work he usually brings his own lunch and eat in his office. In fact, the last time we had lunch together at work, we ate in the cafeteria. He did have his own meal. Today we went out to a sandwich place. Neither one of us has ever been here before, but I do remember Alix talking about this place a month ago. A small quiet place I can see why father would like this place. Lunch was lovely; we talked for a bit. I told him about my new job. I didn’t tell him what I’m going to be studying next. When he asked, I just lied and said I’m not sure yet. I have a feeling I should keep my idea to myself. Imagine if word got out on Ladyblog about this theory. Back in my office, I get to work. Like I usually do not only did I lose track of time I didn’t notice Alix coming in. “Yo, bro. Shouldn’t you be at home by now?” I looked up for the first time since I returned from lunch. It’s half past six, my shift ended at five. I work for an hour and a half for free. I need to stop doing that, or at least do this at home. Since it’s my turn to make dinner, I better get home soon and start cooking.

[putabourqueinit]

Fear of failure or failure because of fear.

It has taken me a really long time to get my blog up and running. There are so many things I have to say, but really who cares what I have to say?  Are blogs the old yesterday and podcast the new today?  I somehow found myself getting a podcast before starting my blog and that was by pure happenstance.  I started writing on Facebook.  It isn’t the best platform to delve deep into your soul and share stories, although I do.  It is great for immediate gratification or for immediate criticism, therefore it taught me a lot about self awareness of what I wanted my words to represent.  If I was going to have a “following” per se what is it I want them to know or feel?  How far will I go with sharing-- just a little, everything, somewhere in the middle?  Or do I just share the good stuff and leave the rest to others imagination?  I decided to be an open book at least when it comes to me and my life.

I am for now putting fear in a corner and taking a chance my words will be worth reading.

I realized recently for the most part I haven’t truly lived in fear.  I would say most things came easy to me naturally.  That is until fear found me. I remember when I was in preschool, my teacher published a book on phonics.  She chose me to go with her on her tour and she would demonstrate with me.  I felt like the special one, but I was 6 or so and I had no idea what this meant on an academic level.  I ended up being an under achiever in academics from then on.  I did what I needed to do to pass, but honestly I was not pushed in this area and therefore apathy set in.  I’m not saying it was my moms fault- she was a single mom and did the best she could, but somewhere in me I feel if I would have met the right teacher or found the perfect class to inspire me I could have been a much better student and loved learning as I do now.  

Flip-flop

I found gymnastics early on.  I was in dancing with all the other 4, 5, 6 year olds for about 3 years,  Eventually it became clear I excelled in tumbling.  My mom enrolled me in a gymnastics class.  I moved up the ranks pretty quickly.  I qualified for meets locally and state wide.  My first memory of my first meet was when I was about 6.  My father adored me, but he adored drinking and gambling just a tad more.  I have a vivid image of me being in my gymnastics uniform with piggy tails and him crouching down on one knee and telling me the reason he would not be attending my first meet.  He had a golf tournament and because it was my first meet he knew I wouldn’t place.  Well of course I placed first and my dad was not sitting in the bleachers to cheer me on.  It took me a long time to process this and probably didn’t until my 30′s how disappointed I really was.  

I went on to become the youngest of our team to qualify for State.  Beam was my favorite- I was fearless on the beam.  At 7 years old gymnastics consumed my life.  It was my every afternoon while others were running around the neighborhood splashing through muddy ditches.  It was my “aw man, I just want to stay home and watch The Brady Bunch” instead of going to practice.  Of course I loved it when I got there and it became my identity.  My family and friends would always make me do tricks.  “Leslie do this....Leslie do that.”   I was continuously on my hands...flip flopping my way through life.  

Stepping into the Unkown

Going into 7th grade I found....BOYS!    I was asked to try out for cheerleader.  I knew this was impossible because the #1 rule was if you were on the team you were forbidden to do another sport.  I also practiced everyday and meets were on weekends.  I would hear my friends talk about the parties they were going to and I was jealous.  I decided to try out for cheerleader knowing this was taboo.  I was conflicted as what to do if I made it, but thought I would never know if I didn’t try. I was so nervous my coach would find out and not understand that I wasn’t for sure on being a cheerleader.   I made it.  He found out. He called me into his office and we had a heart to heart.  I said I didn’t know what to do.  He said “well you have to choose.”  I cried my eyes out and said “I’m going to go be a kid.”  I still wonder where that road would have taken me if I stayed, but I never regretted that decision.  Ever.  

So now I was a cheerleader and found all that comes with it- friends, popularity etc.  I was petite and had all the athletic qualities it entailed.  My senior year I was chosen at cheerleading camp as an “All Star” and was eligible to march in the London New Years Day Parade.  My mom and I went to London and joined hundreds of other cheerleaders from America.  It was pretty great to represent my country on this platform.   I figured that was the end of my cheerleading days.  I didn’t have aspiration or influence to try out for college.   I went to USL (my hometown University) and did not try out for cheerleader.  I still don’t know why.  I think fear crept in a bit and also I found a new love- Delta Delta Delta.  I was emerged into the social aspect of college life and thrived.  I got a call summer before my freshmen year from the USL cheerleading coach that they wanted me to be a part of the squad.  I had to follow protocol and try out.  I made it.  I was now a college cheerleader.  I cheered for the Ragin Cajuns and it was one of the best experiences of my life.  

To Be or Not To Be

I checked off that chapter of my life and moved to Hollywood on a whim after I graduated.  My mom asked a question over adult beverages on a cruise to my brother and myself:  

‘If you could be anything in the world what would you want to be?”  My brother had it figured out, because he was a wake boarding champ and wanted to go to Colorado to discover snowboarding.  My mom drove him there.  I said I wanted to be and actress...softly under my breath.  I had been watching movies of Audrey Hepburn and Natalie Wood and I had some desire to do what they did.  My mom took me to Hollywood and 2 weeks after our trip I drove my self to my new home in Los Angeles.  

My first job was a production assistant on the Sony Lot.  The Sony Lot is a place where old movies were made and when you walked onto it you could feel movie magic.  I was essentially a gopher and would deliver papers around.  At one point while making my rounds a higher upper asked me to sit down and give him the 3 minute rundown of who I was.  I was shocked that he had taken notice and more befuddled as to what to say.  I was just weeks into my ‘Hollywood” experience.  I said “ I am from Louisiana.   I just moved here and I think I want to be an actress.”  He said “Take some classes and come back to see me.”   I never went back to see him unfortunately.  I did take many classes. I studies this craft like it was my bible.  I worked at restaurants and wore awful palm tree ties to make sure I could afford headshots and all the expensive things required to pursue, pursue, pursue.  I auditioned my butt off and booked some jobs which kept my juices flowing.  I ran around Los Angeles for years chasing the dream,  Then it hit me...at an audition with the camera pointed at me and the red light lit--I couldn’t do it.  I didn’t have that component of me to get the job.  The camera scared me.  I was filled with fear.  I quit immediately and there went my dream on a dime.  My dime.  So many of my dimes down the drain.  My first round with failure.

Taking Failure by the Horns

It wasn’t a good feeling to realize this.  I became a fitness trainer in Los Angeles and although it wasn’t my career of choice it was easy and again came to me effortless.  I had high profile clients and made a shit load of money.  I loved my job and my clients became my best friends who were paying me.  I did this for 13 years.    

I dabbled in writing.  I observed a lot and wrote about what I saw.  People tuned in and cheered me on to write more.  I decided to attempt to hone this skill and take a writing class.  I was awful and I wanted to literally throw up every time I had to write something.  I couldn’t do it.  I couldn’t find the words.  Where were they?  I just froze full of fear and cried literally in class.  I couldn’t find the way to be me.  The me I wanted to be.  So I quit.  Round two with failure.  

Mommying is Fun, but what else....

I fell in love and this love founded the birth of my two kids Amélie and Hud.  I am not a perfect mother nor do I want to be.  We have a really fun life the 4 of us--full of adventures and endless discoveries.  I decided to write about us on Facebook.  Just sorta put it all out there and not care what people thought.  It was liberating to be real and be true to myself.  I became involved in politics in the most bizarre way and I tend to voice my opinions often.  I get a lot of slack and I am actually ok with it.  I can’t imagine censoring my thoughts for praise and I just want to be as genuine as I can be.  

For the Love of God-- Fearless

Now I am here-right here in this moment.  And guess what.... I feel fearless.  

I was asked a question once in an interview--”What do you say to yourself when you doubt yourself?”  My answer was “I don’t say anything.  I open my computer and let the words talk for me.”  

What do you do when you are full of fear or in doubt?