#on top of the anxiety eating me alive i also feel so bad about myself today for no reason | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scarlvtbitch · 4 years ago

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Rusty

bucky barnes x female reader

summary: it’s bucky and reader’s first time but its also buckys first time in 90 years, he feels a little bit insecure about it

warning: smut (unprotected sex, metal arm kink kinda)

Y/N and Bucky were dating for a month now. After years of miscommunication and pining after one another, they were finally together. The team was really relieved because they didn’t have to suffer through their doey eyes and sexual tension. But there was sexual tension, alright.

After a month of dating they haven’t been intimate that way. They’ve kissed and cuddled but nothing more than that. Y/N wanted nothing more than to be taken by Bucky. She wanted her body to be only his. He never tried though. That was the frustrating part for her. Whenever they would be making out he was always the first one to pull away. Something would always come up before they could go any further.

This just made Y/N insecure. The first reason that popped in her brain was that he didn’t like her enough to sleep with her. One day, she was with Wanda on the couch. It had been a long time since she’d seen her and she really needed her best friend in moments like this. She couldn’t keep it in her chest any longer.

“Bucky doesn’t want to sleep with me.” She blurted out, making Wanda almost choke on her drink.

“Did he tell you that?”

“No.” She groaned and hid her face in her palms. “Every time things get...heated, he always pulls away. Am I that ugly?”

“Y/N, don’t talk like that. You’re beautiful and you know it. I’m sure Bucky knows it too. That can’t be the reason, you just need to talk to him.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” If only her anxiety didn’t eat her alive whenever she thought a million different ways the conversation could go. But an idea came to her head. Bucky was going to drop by later, just like he always did and it was the perfect opportunity to talk to him. However, she decided to add a little bit of spice of her own.

It took the whole afternoon for Y/N to get ready. She showered, shaved, did her hair and makeup. Then she put on the sexiest set of lingerie she owned, which consisted of black lace. She put nothing over it.

A knock on the door startled her, she took one last glance at herself in the mirror before she opened it.

Bucky’s mouth dropped at the sight before him. Y/N’s figure was hugged by black lace, her breasts on full display for him. He gulped as he could feel his mouth start to dry. He accepted her invitation to come inside. He could feel his erection begin to spring to life. His heart was wildly beating inside his chest and he could feel his palm start to sweat under his glove. Y/N waved her hand towards her couch, silently telling him that it was okay to take a seat.

He sat down and she was straddling his lap in an instant. Her core hovering over his bulge. He growled as he pushed her head towards his lips, Y/N moaned at his roughness. He suddenly pulled away.

“Buck, do-do you not want this? Do you not want me?”

“God, no, doll. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything or anyone. You’re so goddamn beautiful, I don’t know how I’ve held myself back so many times. The truth is...” He rested his hands on her hips as he took a moment, scared of saying the words out loud. “I haven’t done this in ninety years. I don’t want to mess it up.” Y/N quickly raised her hands and cupped Bucky’s face. Caressing her thumb over his cheek bones.

“Baby, you won’t mess anything up. We’ll go slow, if you want. I don’t want to pressure you, I’ll wait for you no matter what.”

“I appreciate that, doll.” He grabbed one of her hands that was resting on his cheek and brought it over to his lips. “But you’re way too irresistible for me to wait any longer.” She squealed when he picked her up and carried her over to the bed. He gently set her down and his lips started making their way down her body. He pulled down the cups of her bra and freed her breasts. He wasted no time in latching his mouth to one of them while his flesh hand played with the other.

Y/N squirmed underneath him. The river between her legs making it hard to focus on anything else. He spent too much time between her breasts, and while he had a really talented mouth for someone who was scared of being bad because he hadn’t done this for over 80 years, she needed it somewhere else.

She dug her nails deep in his fabric covered biceps and whined out his name.

“What’s the matter, doll? What do you need?”

“You. Just you.” She managed to say. Bucky smirked against her and pulled away to take off his shirt. Y/N had seen Bucky shirtless while training but that didn’t stop her from being mesmerized by him. She was pretty sure he was sculpted by the gods themselves. Bucky laughed and her heart skipped a beat when she realized she actually said that aloud.

“Thanks, doll. You’re pretty beautiful yourself.” He winked at her and she went to hide her face in her hands but he grabbed her wrists and leaned forward. Placing gentle loving kisses on her cheeks, nose, and forehead. Her heart melted at his actions.

Y/N decided enough was enough and went to pull his pants down, along with his underwear. His fully hard member bobbed against his stomach and she felt a rush of wetness emerge from her heat. Her eyes widened when she saw him. He was thick and long, she already thought he was perfect but this was the cherry on top. She gave him a few strokes, wanting to see what he felt like in her hand. Solid but soft and warm. He closed his eyes and grunted above her, his hand suddenly on her wrist as he put a stop to her motions.

“I need to be inside you.” Y/N nodded furiously against him before he lined himself up against her center and wasted no time in thrusting forward, all the way to the hilt.

Y/N cried out at the feeling. She felt so deliciously full and sex has never felt so right. She’s had sex before of course, but never with someone who she had strong feelings for like the man who was currently inside her. Wanda had once told her that casual sex was nothing compared to sex between two people who adored each other. Boy, was she right.

Bucky groaned and stilled above her. Wanting to savor how it felt to be gripped by her walls, and also wanting to give her time to adjust to him. She gave him the green light a few seconds later.

“Move, Buck, please.”

“As you wish.” He then thrusted in and out of her at a steady pace. Y/N moaned at how good he felt, her exes could barely bring her to an orgasm but with Bucky, she knew she wasn’t going to last long.

“Harder.” She breathed out.

“What was that?” He paused his motions.

“You’re such an ass.”

“Beg for it.”

“Fuck me harder, please.” He didn’t need to be told twice. His hips pounded into her harder and faster. The only sounds in the room were skin slapping against skin, the headboard rattling against the wall and their moans and grunts filling the air. Y/N suddenly got an idea. She brought her hand to his metal arm and gestured towards it.

“Touch me with it, please.” Bucky’s eyes widened because in all truth he didn’t want to use that arm during these activities. He was too ashamed of it.

“Y/N-”

“I love you, Bucky. Every part of you. So I’m asking you touch me with it.” She repeated.

Bucky’s metal arm snaked its way in between them and started rubbing tight circles against her clit.

She hissed and cried out when the cold met her warmth, getting her closer and closer...

Bucky could start feeling her core flutter against him, signaling that she was almost there.

“Come for me, doll.” He rubbed faster against her, giving her one last deep stroke until she exploded underneath him. Her orgasm triggered his and he buried his face in her neck, giving her a small bite as he spilled himself into her.

Y/N moaned at the feeling of his cum deep in her belly.

They panted against each other until they were able to catch their breath and get their heart rates back to normal. He pulled his now soft member out of her and Y/N frowned at the loss. He tugged at the sheets on her bed and went to cover both of them up. Y/N nestled against his side, resting her hand on his sweaty chest.

She leaned forward and kissed his shoulder, keeping her face buried in the crook of his neck. His flesh arm trailed up and down her back, drawing lines with his fingers.

He placed a kiss against her hair and then whispered an I love you before sleep finally swept over both of them.

#bucky barnes #tfatws #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x oc #marvel #marvel imagines

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happyselves · 4 years ago

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Private Fansign { Daniel Ricciardo x reader one shot }

You are a fan of Daniel Ricciardo and everyone around you knew that so they weren't really surprised when you announced that you were going to go to the next GP at Spa Francorchamps. What they didn't know is that you were one of the lucky fans to have a private conversation with mister Ricciardo himself and you didn't know how to react to that. You weren't even sure to be able to say anything to him and as the day was getting closer you were getting anxious. You could do it, he was a normal human being after all, no ? A very sexy and attractive human being you might add. Fuck you were so fucked up.

The day is here, it was today the day you will meet him, Thursday, media day. How to dress ? You didn't want to be all " pretty " . You wanted to be you, be like nothing was happening, like how you were everyday. You end up driving alone to the circuit because after all who would come to the circuit on a Thursday, it wasn't really interesting, but for you this 20mn ride was hell, you thought again and again about so many scenarios of what will happen. Obviously you couldn't find one that would make perfect sense and your mind was wandering everywhere.

As you came in front of the paddock gate, someone asked you who you were and of course they didn't know so they had to call someone from the team to come and make sure you were allowed in as it was close for fans, especially on media day. Apparently you were the last one to arrive which mean that you will be the last one to see Daniel, which didn't help you in your affair cause that would mean more time to stress beforehand, but the Pr assistant told you in your ears that it might also mean more time with him and your anxiety level went to the top and beyond.

You've waited for what felt like hours, seeing everyone getting out of Daniel's driver room all happy and content with the moment they shared with the famous australian. Finally after 2 hours it was your turn and you were feeling bad for him now. He had to spend all those time with everyone when he should be relaxing and you felt out of place here. As you knocked on his door he opened the door, the biggest smile on his face like he didn't spend this much time repeating the same thing other and another to every fan he meets. You knew you only had like 20mn with him but it was already too much for you, you didn't know how your heart would take it this far between the guilt of using his time and your selfish excitement to finally have him in front of you. He was perfect, even more perfect than on tv or on picture. You were stunned by his beauty and how muscular he was. You couldn't find your words and he had to speak first.

Dan : Hi, You are " YN " right ?

He knew your name ... of course he knew your name, you bet his assistant told him before. You didn't know how you found the courage to stumble and respond to him.

You : ahhh yeah that's me hi nice ... nice to meet you

Dan was smiling so brightly, he made a gesture for you to sit next to him on the couch and you did as he asked.

Dan : So how is it going for you ? Ready for the weekend ?

Okay it was time to build up character here and be who you are, be a strong person and be confident in order to have a normal conversation with him, like you told yourself for weeks now, he is a human being like you.

You : Well I'm doing good, really looking forward to this weekend.

Dan : Nice, do you have any for me ?

You had so many questions for him, but you also wanted to be honest with him and honest with you.

You : Well I do but honestly I don't really want to bother with them, you must feel exhausted after speaking with everyone and I really don't want to be one of those. I never thought I would have won this contest for meeting you as I entered it, but here I am in front and I can't even say two words without sputtering.

His eyes grew bigger as he looked at you for the first time, you pierced him, really saw how he was right there and that cut him off guard and now he was intrigued and was fully awake for you.

DAN POV :

She wasn't like the others fans, she looked like one of them, but she had no filter, she saw how tired I was and she looks at me with her two eyes, her two beautiful hungry eyes, beautiful shape, beautiful color that I drown myself in them for a second before snapping back to reality. I need to distract myself, I need to change, to eat something, I need to focus on something else other than her eyes, or her body or her lips ... oh god her lips, gorgeous lips, very plump lips. No nope not happening Daniel no you need no woman will distract you this weekend. Not that they were already distracting me cause it's been a while since I .... NOOOO

You POV :

He stood up abruptly,surprising me in the process, looking confused. He had a nervous giggle.

Dan : Oh that's very nice of you, I'm fine don't worry ... I just remember that I need to change my shirt because I will have the press conference after our talk and ...

You stop him mid sentence.

You : Go ahead, it's okay It's not like I never saw a man shirtless before.

The fuck did you just say that, very suttle, very no filter of you, lord nice one. When you were flirting with him now, you couldn't stop yourself wouldn't you ? You almost had a boyfriend, but Daniel ... Daniel was unique and he was on your list ... Yeah you know the list of them you could cheat with without feeling guilty. Ohh come one mind why are you thinking about this right now. You looked at him turn himself so quick, hiding himself from some blushing of embarrassment, embarrassment was more like it.

Daniel POV :

Oh fucking hell, I was biting my lips so hard right now, hiding my face for her not to see that I like it, I like every words that was coming out of her mouth. She is getting so interesting and is already making my day worth it. And I was about to make hers cause I definitely saw that she was looking at me like I was a target. She is straight forward without noticing it, her body is speaking for her.

You POV :

He took off his merch shirt and the only thing you could focus on was his back, his muscles. As you were licking your lips to water them because he makes them dry off, you've met his gaze in the mirror. Crap .. You look away so quickly and he notices it, but your eyes bring themselves to him again, your head tilting as if you were watching some beautiful art in a museum and this time when his eyes meet you again you don't flinch, instead you sustain your eyes to him. What was happening to you, that's not you, it's your inner self talking there, the woman that was finding this man hot and sexy and perfectly at your taste. He was going for it too,you noticed that the tension between you two was waking up . Not what you were expecting at all even after all these scenarios you had running in your head earlier.His aura was so attractive and you really hoped at this moment that you were the only one with whom he had this weird feeling and weird connection. Jealousy you weren't sure yet but it was bothering you to imagine him being flirty with other people even if you knew the character that he was. He took his time to put on his team shirt and you were enjoying every second of the show he was offering you. As he was trying to put his polo on you noticed his face making some grins ... he had some bad tension on his neck and shoulder and you were feeling bad for him because he will have to wait again before his coach will be able to give him some relief massage. The thought of you having a degree in physiotherapy and being able to help him came through your mind. You stood up and went behind him, he was still looking at you in the mirror, wondering in his gaze.

You : Just don't move, I know what I am doing, I know it's not my place to do that because you have your coach and all, but you can't stay with tension in your muscles, remove the shirt.

You were giving him an order and he was weirdly glad to obey you. You put your cold hand on his neck, started to massage him and he felt the tension leaving his body right away and couldn't help but close his eyes and moaned. That excited you so much, that sound, you wanted to hear it more and it was really starting to get hot in here. Your hands were getting warmer as you worked your way on his back to massage him, he was feeling so relaxed now and you could technically stop now but your hands weren't moving, instead your massage was turning into caress on his skin making him shiver. You were probably insane for doing what you were doing but you wanted to taste his skin so much that your lips connect to the back of his neck and going down to his trapezius muscle, his eyes still shut, his mouth opening, his head tilting, all these signals were screaming green light for you to continue. After all it is scientifically proven that love language could release the tension in the muscle. You start kissing his back, following the line down his spin before going up again to kiss his shoulder. Your mind wasn't thinking anything anymore and you didn't care at all what could happen next or if you had to be surprised, you wanted him,not you as a fan wanted her favorite driver but you as a woman wanted this man in front of you.

Dan : You need to stop before I do something you might regret.

He was breathless, his words came out more in whispers than anything else and you couldn't get enough of it.

You : I think I will go to hell anyway.

He turns so abruptly, catching you by the neck and bringing you closer to him, connecting your lips in a crash, literally eating you alive. All that passion burning was leaving in this kiss, he was catching your lips making it his, biting them or more like torturing them until they were on the verge of bleeding. This man must have some serious sexual tension going on down there for so long and he was finally freeing it all. That was good cause you too needed to blow some steam, you just never thought it would be with Daniel Ricciardo. You felt him getting away from you, loosen up his grip on you, before suddenly opening his eyes, realising what he just did.

Dan : I am so so sorry, this is ...

You : Shhh don't that's on me I shouldn't massage you, I know that as a physio, releasing tension can provoke some reaction, releasing lust and desire, that's really on me.

Dan : Still I shouldn't have changed in front of you in the first place.

You were too far gone now for not being honest.

You : I like the view thought and I still enjoy it

You were looking at his trail going down to his belt, playing with his hair there, looking at him all innocent where inside you were burning for him.

Dan : You are making it very difficult for me to stop things here, I knew you were trouble as soon as I saw you enter that room. I really wanna kiss you again really but I need to change and go, trust me I didn't plan this at all and I would love to stay here with you and take care of this * putting at his well awake bulge * but I have an obligation.

You were pouting now, very sad but you understand, and you let him go.

Dan : Oh don't look at me like that, I already miss your touch, your fingers are magic and I swear I should fire Michael right now and have you as my new coach but I feel like we wouldn't do the right kind of training for you and I.

You were both laughing now, it was the truth, something about this man was attracting you in a way that nobody could understand and you felt he was living the same experience as you.

You : Well I'm here all weekend, all by myself, I wouldn't do that normally because that's not me, but I'm gonna shoot my shot. There is my number here and the address of where my hotel is, just ask for my name at the reception and I'm sure they will let you know my room number.

He was smiling as you gave him a piece of paper with the information on it.

Dan : There are so many women trying to get into my bed, but rarely are thoses who let me come into their, you are the unique one and you will be the only exception, I will text you the hours okay.

You were back to your flirty but shy self, almost childish self.

You : Well I hope you will like some sweets cause I'm planning on ordering strawberries.

You were obviously referring to that picture of him eating strawberries in his garage, making him understand that you are having some thoughts about a night together with him and he was getting excited just by the thought of it.

Dan : Well I believe I do.

You both heard an assistant of his calling him outside to the room, his cut to go and leave you, before he could say anything you just took your thing and head to the door but before leaving him with himself and his thought you slightly turned toward him one last time.

You : Well Mr Ricciardo, it was such a nice delight to meet you, did I ever tell you, you were my favorite driver ?

And then you left him with a smile on your face and a smirk on him. For sure he knows now you were but did you both know that at that moment you were becoming the favorite person of each other ? How can a private fansign like that could end up changing your life forever ? You didn't even get an autograph, what a shame, you needed to make sure he would make up for that later and add an extra to it for the inconvenience.

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raeandwhatnot · 4 years ago

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Hold Your Breath- Alive!Luke Patterson Imagine

Summary: You have a big test coming up, but what happens if the test happened earlier than expected?

Warnings: anxiety attack

Words: 3.8k

Masterlist

A/N: Hello, I am thinking of taking requests for imagines. So far, I’ve only done Luke/Charlie. However, I attached a masterlist that shows everything I am comfortable writing so far. For marvel, I can try to write for other superheroes, so that way I can learn how to write for them. But yeah, if you want me to write something, request away! I will say, I'm in college so it will take a bit. Alrighty, enjoy this imagine!

Beep beep beep

I wake up to the annoying noise that is my alarm clock. It was already 6:45? I barely got any sleep last night from studying for the upcoming history test. I hate taking tests, so I stress myself out by studying as much as I can so I can get a good grade. I sit up on my bed to see my textbook and papers laid out around me. I turn to my alarm and shut it off. I grab my phone from my night stand to see that Reggie texted me.

Hey, I’m going to be a little late picking you up today. I’ll be over around 7:45. See ya soon- Reg

I reply with a simple okay to let Reggie know that I got the message. I collect my textbook and papers and place them on the night stand. I didn’t feel like getting 100% ready. I walk to the bathroom and turn on the light to see what the damage looked like. My hair was a mess and I had major bags under my eyes. I brush my (Y/H/C) hair and put it in a messy bun. I decided I was going to do extra light makeup today. I normally do a natural look, but today I was going extra natural. I put some concealer under my eyes so I don’t look scary. I then put some mascara and eyebrows. I quickly brush my teeth so I don’t have to look at my reflection anymore. Once I finish in the bathroom, I walk back to my room to put on different clothes. Even though I felt like absolute crap and didn’t even feel like putting on jeans, I knew my friends would realize something was wrong if I didn’t wear jeans. I changed the shirt I slept in into a graphic band tee, and I changed from shorts to jeans. To finish the outfit, I put on my checkered vans. I grab textbook and papers from my night stand and put it in my backpack.

After zipping my backpack, I took a deep breath to try to calm me down. I could feel my heart picking up its pace as I was stressing about going to school. I don’t do well when I don’t get a goodnights rest. This past week, I haven’t been getting enough sleep and it is now starting to hit me. I tried to remind myself that it was a Thursday and that I have one more day to study before the test. I took another deep breath and shake my hands to try to get the stress out of me a little bit. I grab my backpack and head to the kitchen for breakfast.

When I get to the kitchen, I place my backpack near the kitchen table. I wasn’t entirely all that hungry, so I just grab a bagel and put it in the toaster. I get the cream cheese from the fridge and wait for my bagel to finish toasting. I suddenly hear a knock at the door. I furrow my brows and look at my phone. It was 7:40. I guess I was having a quicker morning than I thought. I walk to the door and open it to see Reggie. “Hey, (Y/N)!” Reggie smiled.

I smile back, “Hi, Reggie. I’m just heating up a bagel real quick. Come on in.” I step to the side so Reggie can walk in. He nods and steps through the door. I close it behind him as I hear my bagel pop out of the toaster.

“How has your morning been?” Reggie asks as we both walk to the kitchen.

“It’s been alright. I’m a little tired from studying last night,” I say while spreading cream cheese on the bagel.

Reggie leans against counter, “But (Y/N/N), you’ve been studying all week!”

“I know, I know. I just want to do well!” I exclaim.

“Is that why you haven’t come to Julie and the Phantoms rehearsals recently?” Reggie questions. Even though Reggie can be a bit of an airhead, he does notice a lot of things about his friends.

“Maybe,” I mumble as I finish spreading the cream cheese and put it back in the fridge.

Reggie steps over to me and grabs my shoulders to stop me from moving. “(Y/N), you are going to be fine! You always do good enough on your tests,” he says.

I slightly smile at his comforting words, “Thanks, Reg.” Reggie smiles and drops his hands from my shoulders. I grab my bagel and backpack. “Okay, I’m ready to go now!”

“Sweet,” Reggie says. “Also, sorry for being late! I was fixing my amp in the rain last night. I think it messed up my car a little bit, so I had to have my dad jump my car.”

I slowly take a bite out of my bagel listening to Reggie’s explanation. “I don’t think you should be doing that, but okay,” I whisper as we walk to Reggie’s car. We climb in the car at the same time and start heading to school. Thankfully, school wasn’t terribly far away. To be honest, I could walk to school, but who wants to do that?

I finish eating my breakfast as Reggie pulled into the parking lot. Reggie’s assigned parking space was right next to Alex’s. Alex, Luke, and Julie were clumped around Alex’s car waiting for us to join them. “Hey guys!” Reggie says as he gets out of the car. I follow him out and join the group. I keep next to Reggie as I didn’t want my boyfriend, Luke, to see me in my anxious state.

“You guys are late!” Julie exclaims.

“Yeah, that’s my bad! I tried fixing my amp while it was raining outside last night and it did something to my car,” Reggie explains to everyone. They all gave Reggie a questioning look.

“How are you still alive?” Julie asks out of the blue. We all chuckle and Reggie looked confused. Luke pats Reggie on the back as we start walking to the school building.

As we were walking, Alex tugs on my arm to slow us down and be more behind the group. “Hey, are you okay?” he asks.

I shrug my shoulders, “Yeah, of course. Why?”

“You are more quiet than normal. You also look really tired,” Alex says quietly so the rest of the group doesn’t hear. Alex also suffers from anxiety like I do, so we understand each other. It’s really hard to hide it from him, but I always try to.

I scoff at his statement, “Alex, I’m fine. I’m just tired from studying last night; that’s all!”

Alex squints his eyes at me. “Okay, if you say so. You know you can talk to me, right? Or you can talk to Luke. I know he is more than willing to help you out. You are his girlfriend after all.”

I stop at my locker. “Yes, I know. I don’t want to bother Luke with my troubles. He’s been focusing on the band a lot recently. I don’t want to put more weight on his shoulders. Anyways, hurry and get to class. First period is about to start,” I say to him while putting in the code to my locker.

“Yes, ma’am!” Alex says while walking backwards and saluting. He turns around and walks to his first class. I have class with everyone in our group. First period (History) is with Luke, second period (Art) is with Julie and Flynn, third period (Biology) is with Willy, forth period (theatre 3) is with Luke, Alex, Reggie, and Julie, fifth period is lunch with everyone, sixth period (Pre-Cal) is with Alex, and seventh period (English) is with Julie and Willy. It was nice to always have a friend in class.

I grab my art supplies from my locker as I don’t have time to swing by locker between first and second period. Since art class on the other side of school, I have to put my supplies in my backpack now or else I would be late trying to get my supplies between classes.

I close my locker to see Luke leaning against the locker next to me. “Jeez!” I jumped as Luke scared me by his presence. “You’ve got to stop doing that!”

Luke laughs at how scared I was, “Normally, that doesn’t scare you that bad. What’s going on in your mind?”

I shake my head, “Nothing important!”

Luke tilts his head, not believing what I said. “Sure, whatever you say, (Y/L/N), You ready for history?” Luke asks as he stands up from the lockers and wraps his arm around my shoulders.

I turn my heel to walk to class. “Am I ever ready for history? No! Whenever Mr. Hall teaches, it goes in one ear and straight out the other. I just have a hard time retaining history.” I answer.

As we get to Mr. Halls door, Luke unwraps his arm around me and stands in front of me. “You got this, bubs. You always do good in class!” Luke says trying to cheer me up.

“Thanks,” I murmur against my breath as I look down and play with my fingers. I was starting to feel anxious.

Luke notices and grabs my hand, “Believe me, you are insanely smart! You can do this.”

I look up at Luke who had a slight smile on his face. I nod my head, “Thanks, bubs.” He lets go of my hands and wraps his arms around my head. I hug back by wrapping my arms around his waist. I start to feel slightly less anxious with the hug. Luke always gives good hugs. He rubs my head slightly and gives me a kiss on the top of my head. I pull away from the hug to give him a double thumbs up. Luke smiles wider, snaps his fingers, and turns his heel to walk in the classroom. I take a deep breath and walk in the room. Luke and I take our spots in the back of the classroom; I sit right in front of Luke. Not too long after we sat down, the first period bell rang and the morning announcements started. I tune out whatever was being said over the intercom, not caring what they had to say. I didn’t even stand up to do the pledge of allegiance. I don’t know why I was feeling so anxious; the test is tomorrow!

Suddenly, I feel a kick on my heel. I snap my head towards Luke. “You’re shaking your desk with your leg bouncing and it’s making a squeaking sound,” Luke whispers. I didn’t even notice that I was bouncing my leg.

I immediately stop bouncing my leg, “Oh, sorry!” I turn back to face the front.

Finally, the morning announcements were over. Mr. Hall stood up from his desk to stand in front of the class, “Good morning class. I have a few things to say before we get started today. First thing, I will not be here tomorrow because we have an away baseball game.” A few boys in the class let out some hoots as they are part of the baseball team. I slightly chuckle at their actions. “I normally am here in the mornings when we have baseball games. However, it’s a few hours away, so I will be gone all day. Therefore, we are going to have our test today instead of tomorrow! Surprise! I hope you guys are ready!”

My heart sunk to the floor. This couldn’t be happening. We can’t take this test early; I’m not ready for it! “Clean off your desks, everyone. Let’s get started!” Mr. Hall announces.

I lean down to my backpack that was on the floor to grab a pencil. I open up every zipper to search for a pencil, but I couldn’t find one. I was starting to panic as my anxiety started to get worse. I then feel a tap on my shoulder. I look to see Luke handing me a pencil. I zip my backpack closed and take the pencil from him. “Hey, you okay?” Luke asks as I turn back to the front. I nod my head because I knew if I tried to speak, I would just break down crying. I set down the pencil Luke gave me and wipe my hands on my pants as they became super clammy. Mr. Hall walked by and past tests row by row. He finally placed a test packet on my desk. I pick it up to look at the back to see how many questions was on the test. There were 30 questions.

“Alright, you have until the rest of the class period to do the test. Good luck!” Mr. Hall says and sits down at his desk. My shaky hand picks up the pencil and my vision starts to get a blurry and watery as tears started to brew in my eyes. I shut my eyes hard to make sure tears don’t fall. I take a deep, shaking breath and try to read the first question.

What year did the Holocaust begin?

My mind went blank. I’ve been studying this all week, and I couldn’t remember a thing. I skip around the questions to see if I could find a question that I knew at the top of my head. There weren’t many, but thankfully I found a couple of questions I could answer confidently. I look at the clock to see we have 30 minutes left of class which is enough time to do a test. However, in my mind, it’s not enough at all!

Suddenly, I feel Luke’s foot kick my heel, again. I look up at Mr. Hall to see him on his computer. I turn around at Luke, “What?” I barely whisper. Luke tilts his head to the ground. I look down to see a folded piece of paper next to my backpack. I pick it up, glance at Mr. Hall, and open the folded paper.

Are you sure you’re okay? You keep fidgeting in your desk.

Luke’s awful handwriting was hard to read, and I didn’t have time to answer him back as I needed to finish this test. I fold the paper back and slip it in my bag.

Time passes, and I was down to three questions that were absolutely stumping me. I reread the questions about 15 times each to make sure I could understand the questions. I run my fingers through my hair in frustration and let out a heavy sigh. I look around to see almost everyone done and sitting with their phones. I turn around at Luke who was done as well. How was he already done?!

“5 more minutes!” Mr. Hall announces. I snap my head to the clock; class was almost over. My heart starts racing and beating hard in my chest. I look back to my test. Do I just BS this and guess? Do I even have time to figure the questions out? After a minute or two, I guess the last three questions as best as I can and turn in my test at the front. I try to take more deep breaths to try to calm my heart down. Tears were threatening to fall down my face.

Finally, the bell rang to end class. I grabbed my bag as quick as I could and sprinted out of class. I heard Luke calling out my name, but I couldn’t face him like this. He has never seen my anxiety so bad, and I don’t want it to be at school. I walk into the girl’s restroom, walk in a stall, and lock it. I drop my bag to the floor and lean against the wall. My breath was uneven and quick. I can’t be doing this in public. I need to calm down! I try to do the 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 anxiety trick, but I couldn’t focus on anything. The tears that have been trying to fall finally fell, and I lost it. I place my hand on my mouth to try to hold the sobs coming out of my mouth.

“(Y/N)?” I hear Julie call out. I gasp as I wasn’t expecting her to know where I was? I look at the floor to see her standing in front of the stall I was in. “Hey, are you okay? Luke said you ran out of history.”

I attempt to speak clearly, but a loud sob left my mouth. “I-I’m f-f-in-ne,” I barely spoke in-between sobs.

Through my blurry vision, I saw Julie exit out of the bathroom. I exhale the breath that I didn’t know I was holding. My legs started to feel like jello; I couldn’t hold myself up anymore. Thankfully, the toilet seat was down as I sat down on the toilet. I then noticed that I was hyperventilating. I was having a full out panic attack.

“Bubs?” I hear Luke softly call out. I shake my head as I knew Julie told him I was in here. I try make my breath quiet. “Bubs, can you let me in? Please?” he asked. I could barely move. It felt as if I was a statue and I couldn’t move.

“(Y/N), I know you’re in there,” he states, not knowing I physically couldn’t move.

“I-I-“ I attempt to speak, but words couldn’t form as my hyperventilating kept me from speaking. Next thing I know, Luke drops his backpack on the floor and so does he. He crawls under the crack between the floor and the door. I back further on the toilet and look down so he couldn’t see my face.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Luke whispers and grabs my face to make me look at him. My cheeks were red and tears and tear stains on my cheeks. My nose was running from me crying. He trys to wipe away tears, but they kept falling on my hot cheeks. “Try to breath with me, okay? Inhale through the nose; exhale out of the mouth.”

I nod my head slightly. Luke moves his hands from my face and holds my hands. As Luke inhales, I inhale. As Luke exhales, I let out a shaky exhale that ended in a sob. He does it again, but as I exhaled, all that came out was a sob. I then hyperventilated again and shook my head. This wasn’t working.

“No, no, no, that was supposed to work!” Luke mumbled under his breathe. In the distance, I heard the bell ring to indicate that it was time for second period. This made me panic even more as I can’t be late for class! I squeezed Luke’s hands that my nails digged into his skin slightly. I noticed Luke defeated as he wasn’t sure what to do. Suddenly, I feel him remove his hands from mine and place them back on my face. This time, he pulled me close to him and slammed his lips on mine. My eyes widened as I was shocked at his sudden action. I finally give in a little in the kiss and close my eyes and release the breath I was accidently holding. After a minute, Luke slowly pulled away.

I open my eyes to see him looking at me with a worried look on his face. I then noticed that my breathing was slightly back to normal. “H-How did you that?” I ask.

Luke rubs his thumbs on the apples of my cheeks. “I uh, read about it actually,” Luke states. “When Alex told me he had anxiety, I skimmed some articles on how to help and support someone with anxiety. I read that holding your breath can help, and when I kissed you, you held your breath.”

I couldn’t believe what Luke was saying! “Wow, t-that’s really smart, Luke. Thank you.”

Luke slightly nods his head. He pulls down my head and slightly kisses my forehead. “How come you never mentioned your anxiety was so bad?” Luke questions.

I take Luke’s hand from my face to hold them in my own hands. “I don’t want to bother anyone with my burdens,” I say embarrassed.

“Look, bubs,” Luke whispers. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about your anxiety. I will always be here to help you if you feel really anxious or anything,” I give Luke a slight smile. “Also, I told Flynn and Julie to tell your art teacher that you wouldn’t make it into class, so don’t worry about class right now.”

“What about you?” I question, not wanting him to miss class.

Luke shrugs, “Reggie is covering for me. It’s okay.” I feel slightly guilty that he is missing class because of me. Luke stood up, “Do you want some water?” I nod my head as I slowly stand up from the toilet. Once I stood up, I felt a little dizzy and placed my head on his chest. Luke placed a kiss on the top of my head. “You good?”

“Mmhm,” I hum quietly. My head finally stopped spinning after a minute. I took my head off of Luke’s chest and stood up straight. “I’m good.”

Luke squeezes my hand and unlocked the bathroom stall door. Thankfully, during this whole time, no one had come into the restroom. However, it might look weird that the both of us are walking out together, but I don’t care at this point. We walk out of the bathroom and head towards the cafeteria where the vending machines were.

“Wait!” I stop my tracks, still holding Luke’s hand which made him stop as well in front of me.

“What?” he questions.

I look at Luke dead in the eyes and ask in a very serious tone, “Do I hold my breathe while we kiss often?”

Luke tries to hide the smile that was forming on his face, “No?”

My mouth opens wide, “Wait, really?!” Luke laughs out loud and walks closer to me. He wraps his arms around my shoulders. “I didn’t know that!” I exclaimed.

“It’s okay, (Y/N)! You know, because you do that, I was able to help you today,” he says while unwrapping his arms around my shoulders and instead places them on my waist.

I roll my eyes and lightly punch up on the chest, “Okay, okay, that’s true. Thank you, again.”

Luke kisses my nose sweetly. “Anything for you, bubs,” he smiles. I smile back. “Hey, there’s that beautiful smile.” I blush at the comment and give him a peck on the lips.

“Let’s go get water,” I say as I grab Luke’s hand and tug towards the cafeteria.

“There’s my girl,” I hear Luke whisper as he walks next to me. As we walk next to each other hand in hand, I take my other hand, wrap it around his arm, and place my head on his bicep. I’m grateful to have Luke in my life.

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #luke jatp #luke patterson oneshot #luke patterson x y/n #charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie one shot #julie and the phantoms #luke patterson au

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bobsie · 4 years ago

Text

Let it out

Tw verbal abuse

I hate myself for writing this chapter but I kind of headcanon this sorry😬 also this is the longest chapter i wrote over 2.6 k words!!

It's been two month, one week and four days since Asahi confessed to you and ever since then you have been over the moon

You knew Asahi was a sweet person and you never believed the rumors anyway but you never thought he would be so affectionate and caring, he might not be so good with words but he makes sure to show his love and support for you by being there for you all the time

When you have a big event in your club he's there to support you, when you have a hard time with exams he's over at your house in no time to help you even if he's not that good with this subject, if you're having a breakdown he's there to hold you it doesn't matter what is happening when or where you always found Asahi by your side and in exchange you have been with him all the time too

Being there in his practice, in all his matches, you were always with him when he got a little insecure to hold him and to reassure him

So yeah these two and half months have been the best in your life

Now you and your boyfriend were leaving school after his practice ended and you were walking hand in hand

"Y/n I know I asked you before but are you really sure about this I mean you can say no I won't mind" you looked up at your boyfriend and gave him a reassuring smile

"Asahi I told you it's fine it's been two months so I think it's a good time to finally sit with your family you've met mine and they all love you so why not"

"Mom has been asking me alot about it lately but I just wanted to make sure you're comfortable with this you know I don't want to feel like I am forcing you to do it"

"Aww baby I have been wanting to meet your family actually since you talked about your mom and sister I won't lie I am a little nervous but I am sure it will all be fine because you're with me" you smiled at your boyfriend and he couldn't help but smile back pulling you closer to his side as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder

"It will be fine"

You continued to have small talks until you could see Asahi's house

"We're here"

It was a nice house with two floors, it had trees around it with a nice car parked outside but you suddenly felt Asahi stiffened beside you and his hand tightened around your hand

"Asahi don't say you're more nervous than me? It will be fine" You looked at your boyfriend smiling but it dissapeared as soon as you saw his slightly pale face

"Asahi are you ok?" You stood in front of your boyfriend who's eyes never left his house you started to get really concerned and scared you let go of his hand and cupped his face to look at you

"Asahi"

"S..sorry y/n it seems like my dad came back early this month so I was just surprised" he gave you a smile that you could tell from thousands of miles away that it was fake but you didn't have the time to question it because he held your hand again and continued walking with you until you reached the front door

You never heard Asahi talk about his father it was always his mother or his big sister and you didn't want to question it because you thought he had passed away or left him so you wanted Asahi to be the one to talk about it when he's comfortable enough

But to your surprise Asahi father was alive and he was with him

Your anxiety from before about meeting Asahi's family had dissapeared now and you were only filled with concern about your boyfriend who's hands were shaking as he put the key in the hole

"Hey Asahi we can stay outside until you calm down your hands are shaking" you put your hands over his and you smiled to reassure him one of his hands moved to cup your cheek moving his thumb on your cheek bone as you leaned on his hands

"It's fine y/n I am fine my relationship with my father isn't this good but it will be fine"

The door opened suddenly and it made you two jump you were met with a very beautiful and tall young woman who smiled when she saw you two and she looked like Asahi when she smile

"Asahi is this cute girl your girlfriend? Is that the famous l/n chan"

"Neechan you sacred us" Asahi put his hand on his chest and sighed

"Oh my god I finally met you Asahi has been hiding you for the longest time we thought you were fake" Asahi's sister pulled you in a tight hug it took you a moment to try get your arms out to hug her back

Asahi chuckled when you saw that you were now struggling with the hug "neechan that's enough you're suffocating her with your hug"

"Asahi you're mean it's clear she loves it right l/n"

"Yeah it's fine" you smiled at her she hugged you one last time before she started talking "Look at how rude I am c'mon let's head inside" she started walking and you two followed her but then she stopped and looked at Asahi

"Umm Asahi dad is here he came early"

"I know I saw his car" you looked between Asahi and his sister they both looked upset and sad for their dad being here and it made you more anxious

Many questions were going through your mind right now and really bad thoughts

The idea of your sweet boyfriend getting hurt or abused by his father made you feel sick because he doesn't ever deserve this no one deserves this

You were taken out of your thoughts when Asahi held your hand once you took off your shoes and led you to the kitchen where his mom was

"Mom we're home"

"Aah Asahi you're home, oh my god this is your girlfriend she's even more prettier than you said" she approached you with another hug and you hugged her back

"Thank you for coming I hope you like the food I made"

"Of course it smells good already thank you for inviting me"

"no need to thank me sweetheart I have been telling Asahi to invite you for the longest time but he's been delaying it"

"It was a little early mom"

"But you're always at her house Asahi you're so rude" Asahi's mother hit him lightly on his arm and he winced

"Go sit on the table you two the food is ready" you took your seat next to Asahi and Asahi intertwined your fingers together as he started to move his thumb to make circle shapes on your hand a sign that he was nervous

He always holds your hand like that but when he holds it tighter and start making shapes it's a sign that he is so nervous he always does that before a match he sometimes pulls you closer to his chest hugging you but you thought he won't do that because his mom was here and the rest of his family was about to come too assuming that Asahi's sister went to call their dad downstairs

So you put your other hand over his to calm him down he knew what you were doing so he smiled and pulled you closer to kiss the top of your head

Not soon after you heard foot steps coming down the stairs you got up with Asahi to bow when his father came down the stairs

"Hello dad"

"Nice to meet you sir I am y/n l/n Asahi's girlfriend"

"Asahi's girlfriend?"

"umm yeah" you laughed nervously and looked at your boyfriend playfully hitting him "Asahi you didn't tell your dad you are in a relationship"

"no no I told him...I umm I told you last time you were here dad"

"Well I thought she'd leave you once she got to know you"

"excuse me?"

"dad not now please" Asahi sighed as he sat down again you looked between Asahi and his dad before taking your seat

You couldn't take your eyes off of your upset boyfriend who's eyes were not leaving the floor

"miss y/n you didn't find someone other than this insecure boy I bet there are better boys at the club with him you should go find someone better"

"Sir..I..I don't understand"

"Dad c'mon his girlfriend is here" you looked at Asahi who has both his hands now in fists you wanted to hold him and yell at his dad but you didn't it's better if you didn't at least you thought you won't do it now

Soon after Asahi's mother put the food on the table you thanked for your food then started eating

Asahi's father was Asking his oldest daughter about her job and whatever he wanted to ask about, you couldn't let your eyes off of Asahi who wasn't eating as much

"And you Asahi how is your studying?"

"It's good"

"Which college did you decide to join?"

"I am not joining any colleges"

"So you're going pro with volleyball?"

"umm no I didn't get any offers we just started to do better"

"Asahi why do you keep insisting to be a failure in my eyes, you have few months left in high school and you haven't yet known what you will do I did not raise a failure" Asahi's father shouted the last part everyone at the table flinched from the sudden raise of his voice

Every bad word Asahi's father said to Asahi you felt like it was directed at you it hurt you so much to know that your sweet loving boyfriend is treated like that by his father

No wonder why he's always insecure

But you knew that your boyfriend had plans he knew what he was doing he even had everything prepared from when he finished school

But Asahi didn't say anything and you didn't know if you should talk or not

"Of course you won't even explain yourself, you're ashamed right you're ashamed that you never did anything to be proud of right"

"You did not raise me my mother and sister did so if someone should be disappointed it should be them not you" Asahi shouted back it was the first time you ever hear Asahi yell and he was so scary

"You're shouting back now, you say I never raised you then who the fuck got money for your education and volleyball who provides you and the rest of your family with food, clothes and a roof isn't it me and you dare to say I didn't raise you, I work hard each and everyday and what I got is a very insecure ungrateful boy" the shouting continued on the table you couldn't dare to meet anyone's eyes because yours were filled with tears now

"Maybe if you treated me better maybe if you didn't make me feel so bad and that I could do better I wouldn't be like that father, mom neechan sorry for being a disappointment, y/n I am sorry that you have to be with me when you can do better" his voice was low and shaking you could hear how broken he was you looked up to Asahi with tear stains on his cheeks

Your palms now hurt you from how hard you were digging your nails into them

Asahi got up quickly and went upstairs to his room you assumed you couldn't handle what was said to him and what he said broke you because you always think that you don't deserve Asahi that he's too kind and too caring and never in your life did you think that he would like you back

"You don't know Asahi to talk about him like that" your voice was shaking it was almost like a whisper but they all heard it, it seems like they don't dare to talk back to him but it's too late now and it doesn't even matter because what matters now was your boyfriend

"I am his father I know him better than you"

"No you don't, you don't know how hard he studies and how he tries his best before every exam, you don't know how many sleepless night he got to get his homework done, you don't know how hard he trains and works for himself and for his team, Asahi is the best person I have ever met and I always ask myself what did I ever do in my life to deserve such an amazing person, if you think his insecurities is bad then you're wrong because his insecurities made him a better ace and a better person and you should be so proud of him"

You had managed to say all what you wanted without breaking down you quickly ran upstairs to find where Asahi was and you wiped away your tears because Asahi can't see you cry or else he'll be the one comforting you because that's Asahi

"Asahi" you called in a low calm voice as you slowly opened the door, as you entered the room you saw him curled into a ball on his bed so you took steps towards him trying to make as little noise as you can

You climbed onto the bed and lay behind him you gently put your right arm around his body brining you closer to him you pressed a kiss on his cheek before laying back again now your forehead resting on his shoulder

"I am sorry you had to see this" his voice was shakey and it was almost like a whisper to you

"I am sorry you had to go through this" you felt him nod you held him closer to make sure that he knows you're here for him then you felt his body shaking softly so you got up and pulled him up with you to face you

His eyes were so red from the crying as his nose the previous tears stains hadn't had time to dry before they got replaced with new ones

As Asahi was sitting in front of you he didn't dare to look at your eyes he felt weak and he felt so bad

You pulled him closer his head was at the crook of your neck one hand was drawing circles at his back and the other was playing with his hair

"Asahi it's ok let it out" not soon after you said that his hands held the fabric of your shirt so tight, you felt wet tears on your neck and not soon after your heart got broken even more when you heard him sob so loudly that you couldn't even take it and you start to silently cry

"It's never enough y/n whatever I do is never enough for him"

"But it's more than enough for me, for your mother and sister and for your team you know that we're all proud of you and happy for what you've accomplished so far you don't need your father to tell you if you're doing ok or not as long as you're happy and as long as your proud of yourself and where you are no one should matter to you"

After few minutes of you and Asahi holding each other he calmed down a little so he moved away and cupped your cheeks to clear your face from the tears and you did the same to him with a smile on your face

"Y/n"

"Yes Asahi"

"I love you" you were taken back by his words it was the first time he said it to you he was sitting in front of you looking at you so lovingly cheeks and nose red you didn't know whether it was from the crying or the effect of saying the love word or both but he was smiling and after all what happened you realized that you loved his smile more than you even thought

"I love you too Asahi and I will always love you"

And you spent the rest of your time with Asahi cuddling and talking to take his mind off of what happened and since that day you knew you had to protect him whatever the cost was because you loved him so much more than anyone in the world

So if you made it this far thank you (again i hate myself for writing it)

I obviously didn't add the father apologizing part because ngl no parent ever does this at least my father doesn't

I know they do this out of love and wanting to see us better but there are better ways haha

Anyways if you're going through this remember to take it easy no one knows better but you, you know what you want and what your limits are not your parents and do whatever makes you happy

I will try to upload fluff more even tho i am in the mood for angst hehe

And here are some cute asahi fics I read

Asahi azumane is a coward

Asahi barista

#asahi azumane #asahi x y/n #haikyuu #asahi x reader #haikyuu asahi #hq x y/n #bobsie writes #fluff #angst #fluff and angst #i am sorry #sorry for writing this

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stanbillyhargrove · 4 years ago

Text

Demons - The Rewrite

Chapter 25A: Please Don't Give Up On Me

Billy's POV

Living without Cat was hard. It left an aching hole in my life that I tried desperately to fill. I studied constantly and got a job at a mechanic shop downtown to fill out my days and keep my hands busy. I'd flop down onto my bed after scarfing down dinner and pass out before I could start to dwell on the should of's, the could of's. But this weekend was important, it had been cleared in advance and was looming over me now.

Christmas.

I started to wish I had filled the time.

Saturday morning came and I groaned in protest of the sunlight suddenly streaming through the window. A thick layer of frost had covered everything, magnifying the sun as it shined through the window. Max beamed down at me, happy with herself after blinding me first thing in the morning.

"Wake up! Today's the day! Get out of bed, let's go!" She called, patting my cheek before running out of my room.

I stretched across the bed, a knot of anxiousness forming in my gut.

Today's the day.

As I got ready I remembered the day Steve and I had found her, bleeding out alone and I knew Steve would be drowning in the same anxiety I was. He probably hadn't slept at all.

Steve and I ran into the hospital frantically. We were stopped at a desk by a nurse.

"Please," I begged, "my girlfriend just came in. She slit her wrists, where is she?"

She typed on her computer for a moment and shook her head, "she's in surgery. Take a seat, I'll let you know when she's assigned a room. I just need your relation to her."

"Boyfriend," I repeated.

She eyed Steve, waiting.

"I was taking care of her."

"Are you family?" She asked.

"Yes," I answered for him, "he's her brother."

She raised an eyebrow but accepted the answer. Typed on her computer again and asked us to sit in the waiting area.

Minutes ticked into hours as we sat there. Cat's blood dried, flaking off our skin and stiffening our clothes.

We were eventually directed to a room by a different nurse, her kind eyes taking in our red, puffy ones and our stained clothes and gave us a sad smile before stepping out of our way. We walked into the room to see Cat lying in the middle of a stark white bed, her arms outstretched beside her and padded with thick white gauze. The bandages stretched from her wrist all the way up to her elbow.

Holding her together.

There were wires attached to machines that beeped quietly and tubes running into her arm and nose. Steve choked out a curse beside me and turned his face away from her. I felt like time stopped looking at her, my world narrowed down to her small frame and the steady beeping.

The nurse laid a slender hand on each of our shoulders, squeezing gently, "she's doing okay now, boys. You called us just in time."

"What's going to happen to her?" I murmured.

"Well, sweetie, she lost a lot of blood so she might not wake up just quite yet. We'll be admitting her to the psychiatric unit for a few days."

Steve cleared his throat, "she's staying here?"

"Yes. Involuntary for the first couple days and then we'll see."

Steve caught my eye and I shook my head, just slightly, knowing what he was thinking.

He didn't listen, just blurted out, "she doesn't eat...and this isn't the first time that, that she's...she's really sick."

I shot Steve a glare as the nurse gave his shoulder a squeeze, "it's okay hun, we know. The doctors put in a feeding tube after she stabilized. We'll be recommending she stay and enter a rehab program."

"Can you make her do that?" Steve asked at the same time as I asked "how long would that be?"

The nurse gave us a smile and took her hands off our shoulders, "we can't force her, we can just recommend it and see what her mother says and it would take as long as she needs. Some people need a month, some people need more time before they can go back home."

Shortly after, the nurse left us to sit with Cat, one of us on either side of her bed holding her hands. We sat there, silent tears running down our cheeks until Cat finally woke up, her eyes slowly sliding open to find us staring at her.

"Hmm? B..? Stevie..?"

My voice hitched in my throat as I clutched at her hand, "hey..hey, Baby."

Steve was tense on the other side of her, his eyes glazed with angry tears and his chin wobbling despite him clenching.

She looked at both of us and our stained hands and clothes and knotted her eyebrows together, "where..? What..?"

"You're in the hospital, Baby," I explained, "your mom's on her way home, should be here tomorrow."

" But.." she started, looking tired and confused.

" I called when we found you," Steve ground out, "they're admitting you. I'll tell your mom to admit you."

And I couldn't blame Steve for being angry. I was just as angry.

Cat regarded him with a tight smile, her chin wavering as her eyes darkened, "it's okay, Steve."

I knew it wasn't okay, knew Cat well enough to know that she was throwing up walls, feeling betrayed by her best friend. I also knew it was for the best, even if she was mad at Steve right now. He was the stronger of the two of us, sacrificing their friendship to keep her alive. I wouldn't have been able to do that and I'd forever be grateful to him for having the resolve to stand firm, to say enough is enough. I could tell with the way that Steve's shoulders tightened at the lack of her using his nickname that he also knew she wasn't happy.

He squeezed her hand gently before clearing his throat and standing up. "I just...I'll be back."

He left us alone there, the beeping of machines seeming to echo louder. I laid my forehead on Cat's hip and let out a shuddering sigh. It felt like there was a large fissure where my heart was supposed to be, an aching gap in my chest that left me breathless.

"I thought you were dead, I thought...don't leave me.." I pleaded, twisting my fist in her blankets as I started sobbing, "please, please don't, don't leave me.."

Cat laid a gentle hand on the top of my head, softly shushing me as she ran her hand through my hair.

"I...I can't, please, please you can't, can't leave me too," I choked.

Something broke in me as I sobbed, something that I had been hiding for a long time and suddenly I was crying out my whole life as I begged Cat not to leave. I cried for my mom, running away in the middle of the night to escape Neil. I cried for the boy who was left behind to be beaten and broken, for the boy who didn't get saved, who lost his childhood, his innocence. And I cried for Cat, the only good part of my life. The girl who was so broken in a different way, who was beaten down by her own mind, who had everything stolen from her. The girl who had set her own problems aside to lift me up until she couldn't hold herself up anymore. Cat held onto me as much as she could, letting me cry until there was nothing left, her hands never leaving me.

"We could leave," I mumbled.

"What?"

I looked up at her, sniffing and wiping my face, "we could leave. Pack a bag and drive away. We can drive away and never look back, I have a little bit of money from the pool. We can get a shitty apartment somewhere, I'll work and take care of you," I rambled, my heart pounding, "put all our problems behind us and just leave..please? What do you think? Would you be happy?"

Cat's face softened, a wistful sadness taking over, "B..." she reached out a hand to cup the side of my face and gentled my head into her shoulder, wrapping her arms around my back, "I..."

I wiped my face quickly when I heard Steve clear his throat from the doorway, his eyes red and puffy with Hopper standing tall behind his shoulder. "Hopper needs to talk to you, Billy."

Max interrupted my thoughts, barreling into my room, "you ready yet? We gotta go! We still need to pick up Steve!"

I regarded my sister with a warm smile, her excitement leaking out and calming my nerves a little bit, "yeah, Max, I'm ready. Grab your coat."

We'd gotten closer since Cat had been gone, Max tried hard to diffuse situations between Neil and I. It didn't always work, but having my sister on my side helped my spirits at least. Sometimes after a fight, her and I would hop in the Camaro and drive around. We'd stop at the gas station for a couple snacks, listen to music way too loud or just talk. I kept helping Max with her homework and she was doing really well in her classes now.

And Steve and I had become closer too. Sometimes if I didn't drive off with Max I'd pull up to his house and we'd spend the night drinking together. All of us even started having movie nights with the rest of the twerps. Steve loved taking care of those kids and even though they could be annoying, they weren't so bad.

After picking up Steve, I started to think about my conversation with Hopper while driving down the road.

"Son," Hop's voice was deep and soothing, "I just need your side of the story. Then I'll sit here and watch her so you boys can go get cleaned up and rest."

I told Hop everything, ground my teeth when I started to get emotional and eventually laid Cat's story out to him. By the end of it, I was quaking, just barely holding myself together.

Hop laid a large hand on my shoulder, "she'll be okay, son. I'll make sure of it."

That was the final straw for me, my face crumpled and I fell forward into his warm shoulder, clenching my teeth as I wept. He made a shocked noise and took a moment before awkwardly wrapping an arm around my back and patting it. He was warm and gentle, like a father should be. He didn't take a crack at me for being a pussy, a faggot, he just let me cry and told me it would be okay. I wished that I could have had a father like him instead and that broke me more.

After a while of letting me cry, Hop grabbed my shoulders and pushed me to stand on my own, looking down at me with understanding, "it's okay, son. Go on home now, get yourselves cleaned up, you hear me?"

I nodded and let out a puff of air, getting myself back together. "Oh, and Billy," Hop started, "she can't run away from this. She's gunna get the help she needs, but not if she runs away."

My stomach twisted, I knew he was right, I had just hoped for something better, "yes sir."

Steve and I went home and didn't talk for a couple of days. I came back with Max to see Cat the next day when her mom got back to town but after that she was under lock down, no visitors. At the end of the hold we were allowed back for a visit, at the end of which we were told Cat was going into the rehab program and would be transferred to the city a couple hours away. Better program they said. It didn't make it any easier, saying goodbye to her.

Those final few minutes with her were the worst few minutes of my life. I didn't want to let her go, even though I knew this was her only chance.

"Can I drive with her?"

The doctor shook her head, "I'm sorry. We'll be transporting her by ambulance."

I clutched Cat tighter, buried my nose in her hair. She had cried herself out, gone completely numb against my chest. I finally pulled away from her with a heavy sigh.

Her eyes looked hollow when they led her away.

Cat called a couple days later, after getting settled.

"Baby," I sighed, "when can we come see you?"

"B, they said I can't have any visitors for at least the first month."

My stomach lurched, "fuck. Are you fucking serious? I can't see you for a month?"

Cat's voice wavered, "I'm sorry, B. I'll phone whenever I can though."

I grit my teeth and growled, "it's okay, Cat. Just tell me when I can come see you. Get better, okay?"

"I will."

The next phone call from her was a week later. We spent a while talking about how we were doing and how Max and I were dying to go see her. Cat told me a little about her program but didn't go into much detail, just said it was difficult but she was trying. There was something on Cat's mind, I could tell by her silences, the way she seemed preoccupied while talking to me.

"Hey," I murmured, "what's going on? You seem spacey."

She paused and sighed before answering, "is Steve okay?"

Steve, it was always Steve now. He was no longer Stevie.

"Yeah," I soothed, "yeah, he's good. I just saw him yesterday, we've been together a lot. Took everything pretty hard but he's okay."

"Good, that's good," she breathed, "hey, my time's up, I gotta go. Tell him I'm not mad at him, will you? Love you, B."

"I will, love you, Cat."

I looked at Steve, chewing on his lip in the passenger seat of my car, he was getting more nervous the closer to the city we got.

"Harrington. You're gunna chew your fucking lip off," I joked, trying to ease his nerves.

"Hmm?" He looked at me and released his lip from between his teeth, it was bright red where he had ripped skin open, "shit. Nervous."

Cat didn't know Steve was coming with me, they still hadn't spoke since the hospital. I wanted to surprise her by convincing Steve to come see her. Steve had confessed to me one drunken night how guilty he felt, how heavily everything was weighing on his chest. That he blames himself for not noticing something was wrong when he saw Cat at that party and for not being enough to help her get better. I'd shared my guilt with him, told him that I shouldn't have taken so long to get there. That I should have known, should have been able to help her more. But we couldn't go back, couldn't change what happened and I tried my best to tell Steve it wasn't his fault.

I don't think I was very convincing.

"Why?" Max asked from the back seat.

Steve sighed, "I just..don't think she wants me around."

"Of course she does, she's excited to see you," I lied, not looking away from the road.

In reality, I didn't know. Maybe Steve would be right and she'd curse him out for not letting her die on the bathroom floor. Or Steve might scream at her for trying to leave us. Maybe that was something a friendship couldn't come back from.

That seemed to settle him a little, at least enough that he stopped trying to chew his lip off as we entered the city.

@charmed-asylum

#billy hargrove #stranger things #fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #billy hargrove fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #billy hargrove fanfic #fanfiction

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thejosh1980 · 4 years ago

Text

Live Alive...

So much to write, so little time...I'll try to keep it short and focused.

Life has changed a lot here in northern New South Wales recently, but first, lets talk about the music...

It's just over 5 weeks since I performed my first live show after a 13 month break. I was a little concerned I couldn't pull off a show in my usual fashion, however I think in the end, every one, including me, was satisfied.

It is true, it's just like riding a bike...

Once I stepped up on stage to do my job, which is to put on the best show I could, I felt comfortable. I really enjoyed the moment, and didn't feel nervous or anxiety.

I met the drummer only minutes before we jumped on stage, it reminded me of the first show with Eddy and the Backfires in mid 2008 in Bottrop. I met Eddy and then bam, on stage to play a show together... We continued to play together for another 5 years. Sometimes I watch the video (on youtube) and smile when I see Eddy's face light up from the get go, much like the singer 5 weeks ago. I was the right guy for the job, I knew what I was doing.

I've gotten used to that though, learning songs off a CD then playing without a band rehearsal, and usually it works well... One doesn't really learn the songs until they're played live anyhow, right? The groove and feeling is always little different once the energy of a live show kicks in.

I try to slip into the band's sound and style... Learning on the spot who to follow and figure out what's going to happen next. Sometimes that means I'm not fully concentrating on the crowd, and maybe even looking a little confused at the band, but it's the lead singer's job to work the crowd, my job is to support them in their work, and I can't do that if I'm trying to impress the girls in the front row instead of listening and watching the band.

There were quite a few restrictions in place in Australia in July, so festival attendee numbers were down. Only Queensland folks and a few New South Wales folks could join. Usually the much larger crowd is a mix from all over Australia. I did meet up with some old friends, and made a few new ones. Reminding me that not only do I love playing music, but I do enjoy the social aspect of being a musician, that is whenever my anxiety levels are manageable. It's also sweet that no matter how long I've been away, folks come and say hi, and we talk like no time has passed.

This show was meant to be the beginning of returning to regular live shows, the band are very interested in having me play with them in the future and gigs were (very) slowly coming in...

However, everything changed the next morning...

With the high of a fun show, I woke to my cousin offering me eggs and bacon for breaky, I said “hells yeah!”... I had decided I wanted to attend the festival that afternoon before driving home that evening, to catch up with more friends and see some of the bands I had only been hearing about while living in Europe.

The 10am news came on “South East Queensland Lockdown Begins at 4pm” ! Well there goes my plans for visiting the festival!! I had to freshen up, eat, pack up and head south and cross the border post haste. I didn't want to be stuck in QLD, or in traffic!

Some folks had tested positive near Brisbane, and the festival was in one of the areas of concern. The festival promoter had to cancel 1.5 days into a 3 day rockabilly weekender.

Once I crossed the border back into NSW I found out I had to isolate at home... Apparently they back dated the restrictions for returning residents.

Lucky us!

So, I had a week at home to isolate. I decided to get tested, it was a negative result. What else do you expect?

The situation at the time, wasn't too bad, but a pain in the butt. I had to isolate for a week or two, and then I'd be free in NSW to hang out.

Luckily our classes went online too... Another challenge to contend with... Online classes are a necessity these days, but it took a few weeks for me to get used to 'em... To settle into the new routine.

Anyhow, so there I am isolating at home... A week later, on Sunday evening, I am released from isolation as the QLD situation is under control and NSW ease their rules. Earlier than expected, winner winner chicken dinner!

But then... The very next day, Monday evening, the whole of NSW is thrown into lockdown because of Sydney's high case numbers and some regional cases coming to light.

It's 5 weeks after the show, and I have been in either home isolation or restrictions or code red type lockdowns (or whatever you want to call it) for 99.9% of the time...

Good times...

I'm not bagging the rules, I know they're there to help. It's OK, it is what it is... I can call friends and family, I can exercise and, I can play the guitar. What more could I ask for? - Probably a lot more, but I digress.

I have learnt to become adaptable... It's not uncommon for me to feel frustrated at change, but eventually I come around to it.

Now back to music...

The NSW lockdown does affect the band too, 2 band members live south of the border in NSW and 2 live north in QLD, which has few restrictions...

Can we even get together to play? Are shows being booked? If we play a show on either side of the border, do we have to self isolate afterwards? It's a bit like living in 2 seperate countries at the moment, each with its own rules.

Leading up to the show, I hadn't done any live streams, I hadn't worked on music production or songwriting, however I was looking forward to the show. I wasn't really thinking too much about about the future... I've been concentrating a lot on my studies (which is another blog for another day)...

A week after the show I was a little put off by the isolation and restrictions, however now I am starting to take small steps to get back into playing for myself. What I mean is, I have worked on some song production, song marketing, song writing and even looking into working with musicians to put my own band together!!

How cool is that? To me, that is very cool...

Now the small steps mean I have also been co-writing with a friend, starting to put more of my music online (like Bandcamp... coming soon!) and thinking how I can start over again... Cause that's what this is really about...

While I do have a band who hires me to play their music (which I enjoy and am grateful for, whenever we'll actually be able to play together) I really need to start on my own music career. That is a big step! So time to break it down into smaller steps...

When I first moved back home, I had a few offers to jam with old friends, and didn't take them up on it. I didn't feel like playing. Maybe it was a bit of depression, or something, but I just wasn't excited about it...There had been a lot happening in 2020, on top of leaving Europe and integrating back into Australian life, well, I guess it was a bit too much for me at the time.

In the past few weeks I've started contacting folks to get together, once the restrictions have eased, and I am really looking forward to swappin' riffs, ideas and jammin' with friends old and new!

It was a small thing, to say yes to that show in July... Really, it was just a word “yes”... but that decision has lit a fire... the spark is burning... and I don't quite know where it's going to take me, but even the pandemic blues hasn't gotten me down this month like it has done in the past...

Cause now I got something to work towards...

I wanna work with musicians, in person or online... I wanna write songs again... I wanna play a live show with others, their music or mine... I wanna release my solo album (eventually) and I wanna express myself as I once did with the 6 string in the past...

Are you comin' along for the ride??

Thanks for reading,

The Josh

#musicians life #blog #journal #mental health #action

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sitcomified · 4 years ago

Text

we can’t make any promises now, can we, babe?

summary: impromptu peraltiago wedding one-shot set in the b99 season three finale word count: 5.4k rating: general

read below or on AO3

A buzz of chatter spills across the bar. Jake, Amy, and Charles are reunited at last, sharing stories the past few weeks over cheap drinks on a sticky wooden countertop. Amy finally tells Jake she loves him so much and he reciprocates without second thought. Charles offers a knowing glance to Amy, but Jake’s phone buzzes before he can follow up.

“Ooh, I'm gonna get this.” Jake excuses himself from the conversation and answers the call from an unknown number on his phone.

“Jake Peralta? This is Jimmy Figgis.” He feels like his throat has been shoved down his stomach. Cases were never truly solved, and usually the perps harbored resentment, but he had never been singled out like this, on his personal phone number. His first instinct is to try to locate Figgis, but even if he wanted to track the call he couldn’t. The voice on the other end has been altered by a robotic filter, and the background noise is indiscernible.

He hesitates for a moment before responding, “oh, uh, hey, dog.”

“You and Ray Holt took down my operation. Now I'm gonna kill you both.” Jake squints across the room in search of anyone remotely suspicious. Unfortunately, he could read too much into anyone when given the chance. He doesn’t recognize the new bartender, and he’s been less chatty than the others. There’s a lady squeezing her purse against her chest as she looks in his direction. His anxieties boil over in his throat as he tries to stammer out a response, but Figgis ends the conversation before he has time to interject: “later, dog.”

Jake’s hand is still shaking as he lowers his phone. His eyes dart around the room. “Uh, Captain Holt?”

“Peralta,” Holt says from across the bar, approaching the counter after politely excusing himself from an odious conversation with Hitchcock and Scully. His arrival catches the attention of Amy and Charles, who drop their conversation about where to find the best sundaes.

Jake scans the room once more before speaking in a low voice. “I just got a call. From Figgis. He knows that you and I busted his operation and he’s coming for us.” He sighs and his shoulders fall down with defeat. Amy instinctively reaches for Jake’s hand.

“Oh dear,” Holt replies. Even his ever-emotionless expression is disturbed by the news, with raised eyebrows and a slight frown. “Well that is certainly unfortunate.”

“What does this mean?” Amy asks, her voice trembling. Jake squeezes her hand, in a futile attempt to calm the storm of worst-case scenarios she’s piecing together.

“We’re screwed,” Charles says, “don’t worry Jake, I’ll make sure to tell your story.”

“We are not ‘screwed’,” Holt replies, “however, we should discuss proper procedure in a more private place.” He gestures to the couple making out at the table to their left. The group nods in agreement. “Go ahead to the precinct, I will meet you there.” He exits the conversation just as swiftly as he arrived, sparing no second in rallying his—albeit somewhat tipsy—squad.

The walk to the precinct is uncharacteristically somber. Charles doesn’t even comment on the fact that Jake draped his jacket on Amy’s shoulders the second they left the bar. The omnipresent breeze of arguments between neighbors, loud music, and traffic goes still and the only noises they can hear are their own footsteps, and the occasional sigh.

The precinct is at least familiar, but laced with uncertainty as night shift officers occupy the bullpen. The trio make their way to the empty briefing room, which is fortunately unlocked. Amy takes a seat in the back, and Jake hops on the table next to her. Charles heads for the bathroom to face the consequences of the “Authentic Asian-Mexican Fusion” cocktail he tried earlier.

“It’ll be okay,” Amy says, gently stroking Jake’s palm. His blank gaze is fixed at the wall in front of him for minutes that seem like hours, and he still hasn’t said a word. Usually when he was worried, she couldn’t get him to shut up. Seeing him silenced sent an eerie chill across her. “At least for now, Figgis and his guys are way too smart to infiltrate an active precinct.”

He finally replies, “So you want me to live the rest of my life here?” He lets out a meek chuckle. “I think that would be worse than getting shot.”

“Oh, come on, it wouldn’t be that bad. I’d see you every day, you already eat most of your meals out of a vending machine, and the bathrooms are nicer than your apartment.” Amy jokes.

“Hey, one day that will be our apartment, watch your mouth.” He cracks a smile. For just a moment he allows himself to forget about the immediate danger surrounding him and indulges in the idea of a daily life with Amy. They would order takeout and sit on the couch watching an action movie, and she would be curled up with her embroidery and he could smell her eucalyptus shampoo. Or maybe he'd learn to cook, and she'd put on another nature documentary, and he'd get to listen to her laugh at the stupid voices he did for the animals. He runs his fingers absentmindedly through her ponytail. That’s a life he would buy a million mattresses and toss his grey towel thousands of times over for.

His fantasy is, however tragically, cut short by the Captain’s arrival. “Peralta, a word, in my office please.” Jake nods and follows him through the bullpen, without even bothering to greet any of the officers. It's as if he was watching himself enter the room, rather than actually experiencing it.

“Take a seat,” Holt gestures to the chair across from where Jake was standing awkwardly across the desk, and he hadn’t thought about sitting down. To be completely honest, he wasn’t entirely aware of the fact that he had a body. “I have contacted the U.S. Marshall’s office to make arrangements to send the two of us into Witness Protection. I know that this comes as a disappointment, but I believe that this level of security is necessary to avoid the threat.”

The news hits Jake like a punch to the gut. It’s a new type of dread, one that’s crushing him in instead of pulling him apart. He had worked on high stakes cases before, but this was a new level of imminent danger. He’d always been able to talk his way out of any threat; the squad was always there to help him. Even without them, he could fend for himself. Hell, he survived six months undercover in the frickin mob. Jake clenches his fingers against the captain’s desk. “Captain, with all due respect, is that really necessary–”

“–I understand your hesitancy, but it is absolutely critical that we take the utmost caution, but this is non-negotiable. Our Marshall will be here in two hours. Sergeant Jeffords is on his way to brief the squad on necessary protocols right now.”

“How long will we need to stay in WITSEC for?” Jake tried to reason with himself. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. It could be a couple weeks, a month tops. It would hurt like hell, but it’s nothing he couldn’t handle. If it was somewhere cool, then he could also get a killer story out of it.

“Indefinitely,” Holt responds, as if it was obvious and insignificant as the color of the sky. His answer severs the last thread holding Jake’s sanity together. He bangs his fists on the table.

“What the hell? You just assumed I would be okay with all this?” he shouts, “I can handle myself. I don't need to be babysat. I've been a detective for ten years!”

“Precisely, that's why I assumed you would react like an adult, and not like a petulant child.” Holt retorts. His dismissive delivery only fuels Jake’s anger.

“What did you expect me to do? I just got to see Amy for the first time in weeks and now my life is at risk because of some stupid case?” He pauses for a moment, recalling the ridiculous conversation from the briefing room moments ago. “Let me stay here, I’ll take down Figgis. I’ll even live in the precinct.”

Holt manages to convey a magnificent lack of amusement. “I don’t have time to deal with your immaturity right now. There are several arrangements I need to attend to, for your safety, If I may add.”

Jake’s heart is still pounding as he storms out of the captain's office. A pair of officers look up at him with concern before returning to their paperwork. He walks directly to the evidence lock up. As much as he wanted to squeeze out every last moment he could with Amy, he couldn't risk ruining it with some impulsive hot-headed remark.

He paces around the room before eventually landing on a box to rifle through. If he couldn’t address his feelings, he could certainly distract himself from them. It’s an old case—from before Holt became Captain. From what he could remember, the perp was busted for poisoning victims she catfished, and stealing their identities. When he opens the box, a puff of dust fills the air, hitting him with the heavy reality of just how much time had passed. He occupies himself by sifting through the contents of the box: the bracelet she used to store arsenic, the harddrives containing compromised information, and the perfectly crafted report that Amy had spent their whole lunch break editing. He really didn’t know how lucky he was then. He spent every day with the most wonderful woman alive and wasted it by teasing her.

Suddenly, he hears footsteps. He would recognize Amy’s awkward clunking in her “going-out heels” anywhere. Even if he was deep undercover all the way across the country. “I knew I’d find you in here,” she greets him, standing in the door frame with a bunched up tissue in hand.

“It’s like you’re a detective or something,” Jake says. He aims for the light flirtatious tone that the two have grown so accustomed to, but it comes out too aggressive for either of their comfort.

Amy hesitates before clearing her throat and approaching him. She closes the lid and returns the box of evidence to the shelf, and reaches an arm across his back. She notices Jake’s widening eyes, slowing heart rate, and just as he opens his lips she accepts his implicit apology. “This is stressful, I understand.” She pauses and Jake can hear the soft popping of her lips; she's choosing her words very carefully. “I was thinking. Figgis will take a while to track down. I can’t let you go alone for that long.”

Immediately Jake tenses back up. He felt that they were in an awkward stage relationship wise, even before Amy went undercover. He worried she thought that he was moving too fast too soon. That he wasn’t serious or responsible enough. He can’t stop himself from vocalizing his anxieties. “Ames, are you breaking up with me?”

Luckily for him, Amy looks equally horrified at the idea. “No, the opposite, actually—” she takes a deep breath, as Jake violently racks his mind for what that could possibly mean,“—I think we should get married. I know this is all really soon and we haven’t hit all the relationship milestones, but WITSEC only allows contact with immediate family, and after what we just went through I can’t imagine—”

He interrupts without a second thought. “—Duh-doy, of course I’ll marry you.”

Although the proposal was a mere technicality, excitement washes over the room. Amy launches herself at Jake with wide-open arms. He squeezes her tightly and lifts her up. Figgis was still on the loose and his life was still in jeopardy, but it all seemed insignificant when he knew Amy would be by his side. He slowly lowers her down onto a pile of boxes. With their faces pulled back from each other, Jake can actually see Amy’s brilliant smile. He almost feels guilty for dampening it. “Uh, the Captain said the Marshall would be here in two hours, and everything’s closed.”

Her eyes are illuminated by that specific laser-focused excitement that was reserved for completing a crossword puzzle, or, choosing a new notebook, or, someone concerningly, receiving praise from her captain. “Leave that to me,” she says.

Jake can barely muster a response as Amy races to her desk. “You’re my dream girl.”

“I know,” she replies from across the precinct, no doubt doing one of her lovable dork dances from behind the door. The officers must assume that they’re somehow crazier than they already do, but Jake doesn’t care. Amy’s voice is still echoing in his ears when he returns to the captain’s office. His senses return to him, and he’s even grateful for the precinct’s faint smell of metal and burnt-coffee.

Holt seems to have calmed down from earlier, or at the very least, he’s so immersed he can’t be bothered to deal with Jake’s crap right now. He has a pile of binders on his desk and his reading glasses are on the verge of sliding off the tip of his nose. Seeing Holt in serious action almost makes Jake feel guilty for acting out earlier.

He enters the room awkwardly, and Holt looks up from a particularly thick file and clears his throat. “Detective, I noticed you and Santiago were conversing. I trust that you have sufficiently addressed any emotional concerns this process might have, given the romantic nature of your relationship. I understand that the prolonged separation can be quite challenging to navigate. Kevin and I recently had quite an emotional conversation ourselves.”

“Hello Kevin, it is I, your husband Raymond Holt.”

“May I inquire about the occasion? This is a rather unusual time to call.”

“I agree it is quite unorthodox, but this news is urgent. I just completed a very dangerous case and my life is in danger. I am headed into a Witness Protection program indefinitely.”

“I understand. I am quite disappointed by this news.”

“As am I.”

“Yeah, something like that,” Jake replies. In any other circumstance he would declare his eternal love for Amy from the top of the Brooklyn Bridge, making sure that the whole city could hear. But, although he would never admit it, he cares just as much about the Captain’s approval as she does. Whenever he imagined proposing to Amy, years down the line, he knew it would be elaborate and tasteful (to the extent he was capable of it) and when both of them were ready. He knew that’s what Amy deserved, and Holt knew it too.

“Pardon?” Holt takes his eyes off the monitor and folds his arms, and Jake feels as if he’s being interrogated. Through the glass, he watches Amy at her desk frantically typing and scribbling down notes.

He purses his lips in anticipation. He doesn’t have time to do a bit or give a fake story to dull the big news like usual, and that makes the ripping off of the bandaid even more painful. “It is possible that Amy and I maybe just decided to get married before the Marshall gets here.”

Holt opens his mouth with a slight indication of confusion, before swallowing a gulp of air. “I see…and you’re sure that you will be able to file the requisite paperwork in time?” An entirely unremarkable—and characteristic—reaction to the situation. No hints of judgement or celebration, just an acknowledgement of simple facts. Jake supposes that he filed any emotional response away to be processed at a later point.

“Don’t worry sir, we have a plan,” Jake assures his still-skeptical Captain. “Well, Amy has a plan,” he clarifies, and Holt indicates marginal relief.

Holt sighs, “I know I am not one to talk you out of your schemes—”

“—It’s not a scheme, it's a plan, and it’s a great one. Amy and I are going to go to whatever craphole state the Marshalls send us to, solve the case in no time and then make out 24/7,” Jake says with a new rush of adrenaline.

“As I was saying, you seem to be quite confident,” Holt continues, “which is why I’m not going to attempt to negotiate with you. You are excellent detectives and you clearly care a lot about each other. Congratulations to you both.” He gestures to Amy, who has her face nearly pressed to the glass behind the shades, as she tries to listen to their conversation. “Santiago, you may enter.”

Amy almost trips on her way into the office, and Jake greets her with a hug, “Did you hear that? The Captain approves!”

Her face floods pink, undermining her already futile efforts to maintain composure. “Thank you sir, it means a lot.”

“Of course. It’s highly enjoyable to see a couple as compatible as yourselves.” Jake has to bite his tongue to avoid mocking his word choice. “Now, given that time is of the utmost essence, I urge you two to go home and gather personal documents. I’ve already spoken to the night shift’s Sergeant, and he has agreed to lend officers to escort each of you.”

“We need to get all the marriage paperwork sorted out, I can just stay here,” Jake adds, turning to his girlfriend, “Amy, all my important stuff is under my beanbag chair.”

“That's why it's so lumpy!”

“I’m sure Detective Boyle would be more than happy to help out with your nuptials,” Holt replies, pushing aside his disgust with his Detective’s living situation. “Here is a list of things that the Marshall will need,” he hands over two slim printouts from one of the many binders on his desk. “You are dismissed.”

“Thanks,” Jake says, flipping through the sheets. He would be so screwed trying to find this all in his apartment.

“See you on the other side, babe,” Amy whispers as she leaves the office.

“See you on the other side,” Jake says, planting a soft kiss on her forehead before heading downstairs.

///////

One hour later.

Amy returns to the precinct with a sleek folder containing every document the Marshall requested. While gathering her necessities, she changed into her old graduation dress. It’s knee length with cap sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, not nearly formal enough for the wedding she had several binders dedicated to, but for all she cared she would marry Jake in sweatpants and grandma glasses.

Her jaw drops as she enters the break room. As it turns out, Charles wasn’t the only one in the squad ecstatic about a Peralta-Santiago wedding, even if it was just a formality. As soon as the rest of the squad found out, they volunteered to help in any way possible. Rosa took her motorcycle to the City Clerk’s office where she obtained a Marriage Certificate and License, though she wouldn’t disclose how she got into the locked rooms. Terry convinced his neighbor who worked in the State Court to begrudgingly sign a letter authorizing the marriage in under 24 hours (“Theirs is a love story for the ages, for the ages Margo!”) Hitchcock and Scully even rearranged the furniture to form a sort of mock-chapel although it didn’t help that Scully was asleep on one of the couches in the back.

Charles himself went full-Boyle. The room is decorated with a beautiful miss-match of flowers from the 24/7 bodega down the street, and soft classical music was playing over the precinct’s sound system. It’s enough to make the holding cell containing a single perp with thirteen charges of public urination seem miles away. “Amy!” he turns around when he sees her, letting the banner of post-it's he’s hanging drop to the floor.

“Charles, this is incredible!” Amy exclaims.

“Thank you, it's not the wedding I dreamed about for you two,—that one has far more exotic birds involved, both for eating and for pleasure,—but I figured it was my job to step up as Jake’s de facto best man,” he says, pulling her into a hug. “If you hurt him I swear to god I will make you suffer for the rest of your life,” he whispers into her ear.

Amy pulls back hesitantly, “yeah, of course I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Jake.” She laughs, but no one joins.

“Seriously, we mean it,” Rosa adds, her tone somewhat undercut by the bouquet of roses she’s tying together.

“Everybody, leave Santiago alone, she’s not going to do anything,” Terry says, but his authority is undermined by the mouthful of tape from hanging up decorations.

At that moment Jake walks in, “Leave Santiago Alone, She’s Not Going To Do Anything: title of Amy’s sex tape.” He’s changed into a white button up shirt under his leather jacket and dark jeans. His red tie and scuffed sneakers match the flower petals around them. Charles must’ve coordinated this, Amy thinks. He looks so handsome that she forgives the insult. Besides, they both knew he wasn’t speaking from experience.

“Dude, you’re literally getting married,” Rosa says, as Jake rolls his eyes. He saunters over to Amy and gives her a quick kiss. She takes his arm around her, and they walk to the back of the room for a semblance of privacy, taking a seat on the couch opposite Scully.

“Hello future wife,” Jake greets Amy.

“Hi future Mr. Santiago,” she responds, with a slightly smug smile.

“Wait, what are we going to do about last names? Should we hyphenate?” Jake asks, frazzled. He’s still processing everything that’s happened that day.

“We can work all that out later, but it would make paperwork a nightmare,” Amy says, as she tucks a tiny curl behind his ear. It immediately bounces back. Jake smiles at her. Of course she could still be thinking about paperwork at a time like this.

“I know it’s cliche, but I really do feel like the luckiest man on Earth,” he says.

“Well you are being targeted by one of the countries largest crime families, so I guess it evens out.” Jake looks away in response, and Amy bites her lip. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up, I just thought with everything—”

“—No, it’s fine,” Jake says, and he quickly pulls back his frown. At some point over the past evening (early morning, really) Jake had allowed himself to believe that this marriage was forever. That it was the next step in the infinite journey they would share or whatever. His stomach churned at the nagging idea that this was just a loophole for Amy to work a case with him.

“Babe, is everything alright?” She turns to face him, and he realizes the uncharacteristic length of his silence.

“After all this is over—if it’s all over—are we going to stay married?” he asks, not quite able to make eye contact.

“Is that what you want?” Amy counters.

“Maybe,” Jake responds. He definitely knows what he wants, but he tiptoes around putting Amy in a precarious position. The last thing he wants is for her to feel compelled to stay married to a guy she’s only been dating for a year. Instead, he returns the question, “is that what you want?”

She pauses for a second to think. “I want a proper wedding. With my family and everything—I think my mom would kill me if I didn’t. But I want to marry you. Preferably not in a police precinct though,” she adds. Now it’s her turn to avoid his gaze.

“I want that too,” Jake smiles in agreement, “Although a precinct wedding doesn’t seem that bad. Terry’s kids could be our flower girls.”

“That would be adorable,” Amy says.

“Do you think Sarge could bring them in now?”

“Jake, it’s the middle of the night on a school night,” Amy reminds him. Stupid reality always getting in the way of his great ideas.

“Right,” he pauses, and then lets out a laugh. “I love you, Ames.”

“I love you too, Jake,” she says, with her head on his shoulder. He wishes that they could stay like that forever, but time (or, to be more precise, his captain’s anal scheduling practices) were not on their side.

Amy explains all the different forms they have to sign and Jake watches her carefully scan each line and write her name in font-like handwriting. She feels Jake’s leg shake underneath the table and lays her warm hand against his knee to calm him down. He picks up a pen from the floor and adds his name next to hers. He takes a moment to appreciate the smooth black ink from her favorite fountain pen next to his skipped blue-rollerball scrawl.

“Alright, we’re married,” Jake announces, going in for a high five. Amy looks at him with disbelief, and Charles takes the opportunity to cut in and slaps his palm. The rest of the squad joins them around the table, except Hitchcock has fallen asleep on Scully’s lap.

“I can’t believe it,” Rosa shakes her head, “someone actually agreed to spend the rest of their life with Jake.”

“Hey,” Jake protests, “that’s my wife.” He looks up at Amy with his adoring heart eyes and she feels a flutter in her chest. It was the first time she was referred to like that, and he didn’t even use the Borat voice like she expected.

“Whatever. I’m happy for you dorks,” Rosa says and she’s just drunk enough not to hide her smile. “This is unacceptable,” Charles interrupts, “I mean all this work, all this build up—years of watching your heightening sexual tension—just to sign a few papers? At least give us the vows.” He gestures around at the decorations to emphasize the point.

Jake is about to butt in about how it’s not for him, and if they were able to they would celebrate more, until Terry adds on. “I agree with Charles! Terry loves love.”

“Eh, seems like a good way to kill twenty minutes, babe, you in?” Jake turns towards Amy.

“Why not?” she says.

“Yes!” Charles exclaims, “I can officiate, I’ve had my speech written for years. How familiar are you with the different types of tentacles?” Amy and Jake exchange horrified glances, and Jake gets ready to talk his friend down. “I’m just kidding, about the tentacles,” he clarifies, although Amy isn’t entirely convinced.

“Am I going to be able to stop you?” Jake asks.

Charles is already running to his computer when he replies, “Not in a million years!” Terry soon follows him outside, inviting every officer to come watch the ceremony. Rosa tries to wake up Hitchcock and Scully with a gentle nudge before eventually slapping them awake.

In the meantime, Jake and Amy stay at the table. They’re both exhausted from the events of the day, and Amy tries to stifle a yawn as Jake asks her nonsensical questions about life in WITSEC. “What do you want your undercover name to be? I’m thinking Larry Sherbert.”

Amy rolls her eyes, “I’m not taking the last name Sherbert.”

He smiles, “that’s right, because I took yours, Rainbow.”

“You want my name to be Rainbow Sherbert?” she responds incredulously.

“Yep, you had hippie parents,” he explains. She’s about to tell him to knock it off, when Captain Holt enters the room. Amy instinctively straightens her posture and smooths out the front of her dress.

Holt lays the bottle of champagne he’s holding on the table, “This is from my miniature fridge. I was saving it as a mentor-to-mentee gift for when Santiago passed the Sergeant's exam, but this occasion seems equally appropriate.”

“Thank you sir. This is too kind,” Amy says, in the most formal voice she can muster.

“Of course,” Holt says, “It is a customary gift between workplace associates such as ourselves.” Jake shifts his puzzled gaze between his wife and his Captain. He loved them both, but couldn’t for the life of him decipher their relationship.

Terry and Charles return and a few officers trickle into the chairs in the back. Holt takes a seat in the front row, next to Rosa, and Amy and Jake join Charles in the makeshift archway between the vending machines.

“This is the happiest day of my life,” Charles whispers, putting his arms around Jake and Amy.

“Because you found out you were adopting a child, right?” Jake checks.

Charles blushes, “yep, totally that. I’m going to be such a responsible dad.” He rifles through his papers one last time, “Ok I’m ready whenever you are.”

Amy glances expectantly at Jake who gives her two sharp thumbs up. “I think we’re good!”“Alright let’s get this party started!” Charles announces. His volume catches the attention of the crowd, and the chatter dies down. “We are gathered here to celebrate the union of the two most magnificent people I know: Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago. Many of you have had the privilege of watching Jake and Amy’s relationship blossom from the overly competitive co-workers who drove us crazy with their constant bickering, to the glorious sight it is today.” He continues his speech, skipping over entire pages that have been crossed out, containing metaphors everyone is undoubtedly thankful not to hear. “To Jake and Amy, partners in crime solving, and now also, partners in life!”

The room applauds, and Jake takes the time to dab at the tears he was holding back during the speech. “We come now to the words you’ve all been waiting for. Before you declare your vows to one another, I want to hear you confirm that it is indeed your intention to be married today. Jacob Zachary Peralta, do you come here freely and without reservation to give yourself to Amy Maria Santiago in marriage?”

Jake and Amy share a mischievous glance, realizing he never told Charles his actual middle name. He’s about to bring that up, along with the fact that none of the day’s events were remotely close to his intentions, but he gets the sense that Amy wouldn’t be happy if he derailed the ceremony. Instead, he smooths out his tie and confidently says, “I do.”

“And Amy Maria Santiago, do you come here freely and without reservation to give yourself to Jacob Zachary Peralta in marriage,” Charles continues, oblivious to their antics.

“I do,” Amy smiles.

“Please face each other and hold hands,” Charles says, pulling two silver bands out of his pocket. Amy looks at Jake with confusion and he mouths the words beanbag chair. Charles instructs the two to repeat after him as they place the rings on each other’s fingers. The whole ceremony starts to blur in Amy’s mind as she realizes Jake already had this ring that somehow slid perfectly on her finger.

“And now, by the power invested in me by the state of New York, it is my honor to declare you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride!” Charles declares, tossing his papers on the ground for dramatic effect. Jake reaches his arm around Amy’s back in an attempt to dip her as some grand romantic gesture. She fumbles a little and ends up standing up and pulling her head up to his until their lips meet in a warm, invigorating kiss. Both of them chuckle as they pull apart. A few of the officers take that as a cue to return to the bullpen.

“It’s my grandma’s—the dead one’s,” Jake explains, pointing to Amy’s ring, “—and that’s like the one Peralta marriage that wasn’t a total failure so I thought it would bring good luck or something. Plus, you know the crushing debt.”

“It’s perfect,” Amy says, examining the carefully carved diamonds.

Captain Holt rises from his seat and reaches for the bottle of champagne, announcing a toast. As he starts to open the bottle, the cork goes flying across the room, shattering the vending machine glass. Hitchcock and Scully race towards the rubble to steal some free snacks. It’s at that moment that the Marshall, who unbeknownst to the squad had been waiting outside the Captain's office, decides to examine the break room and investigate the noise.

There’s a moment of silence, interrupted only by the fizzing of the overflowing champagne. Amy feels her stomach churning as if she’s somehow in trouble. Holt is at a complete loss for words. At last, it’s Charles who speaks up, hesitantly saying “Mazel Tov?”

#b99 #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #b99 fic #peraltiago #peraltiago fic #jamy #jamy fic #brooklyn nine nine fic #jake peralta #amy santiago #b99 one shot #my fic

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mildkatfics · 4 years ago

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small talk rating: m word count: 6316 summary: Simon and Baz come to the family estate for Christmas, for the first time as an official couple. read on ao3

I did it with an email. Not even with my personal account. My fucking LSE address: [email protected].

Dear All,

Hope you’re well. I’m sending this message this way because it would be too crude to do it on my mobile, and I didn’t want to wait to be back at Hampshire to tell you. I hope you don’t mind.

I’m gay. Simon Snow and I have been in a romantic relationship this whole time, and we are happy.

I suspect none of you are surprised, but it was getting ridiculous to pretend like none of us knew the situation. I am, however, happy to carry on as always. I just figured it’s time for us to get through this bit.

Regards,

Basil

Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch

MA Candidate, Teaching Assistant

Department of Political Science | London School of Economics

“Merlin, don’t use your email signature.” Snow peers next to me on the sofa. “Using this account is bad enough.”

“I kind of like it,” I admit. “It reminds them to be proud of me.”

“Remove it. And shut up, they’re proud of you.” He rests his chin on my shoulder. I can smell the coffee on him, though he’s showered after work. I wonder if he’ll ever stop smelling of Starbucks. He glares up at me through his eyelashes. “Say it.”

I narrow my eyes. “No.”

“Baz. Say it.” He rolls his eyes and shoves his body against mine, slightly toppling me over. He hasn’t gotten any gentler over the years. I love it. “Say that your family is proud of you.”

I sigh, but give in. “My family is proud of me.”

“So is your boyfriend.”

I indulge in a sneer, and he throws it right back at me. I say it. “So is my boyfriend.”

He grins, and sits back up. “Right. Now remove the email signature and send it. And remove my last name. You’re talking to your family, not applying for a mortgage.”

I snort. “I’m pretty sure my father doesn’t know what a mortgage is.”

“Here,” Snow takes my laptop from me and removes the signature and his last name from the email. I watch his brow furrow and his lips move slightly as he focuses on re-reading the text. He starts to tug on his hair, and I almost laugh. I didn’t bother spending too much time on the message, but here he is, reading and re-reading every word because he cares. I press my lips against his cheek. I let myself linger, inhaling his scent. Dark Roast. Probably the Christmas Blend. “Don’t give yourself a hemorrhage,” I murmur.

He ignores me for a while before speaking again. “I’m gonna hit send, yeah?”

I don’t take my eyes off him, not even bothering to read it over. “Yeah.”

I watch his finger hesitate for a second on the trackpad, then clicks it. He blinks and takes a deep breath, and I laugh. “Are you going to be alright?” I joke.

His eyes slide over to me. “You just came out to your family. I can’t tell if I’m overreacting, or if you’re...underreacting.” He cards his fingers through my hair. “I also can’t tell if you’re hiding your feelings from me, or if you’re a complete fucking sociopath.”

I laugh again, and I consider his question seriously. “I’m happy,” I think out loud. I make sure to look in his eyes when I finish my sentence. “But that’s par for the course nowadays, isn’t it?”

Snow tries to trap his grin into a smirk. “Sap.” He leans in and brushes his lips against mine. I lean hard and deepen the kiss, and I feel him grin for real and bite my bottom lip. I give an indignant grunt, but don’t bother pretending how much that gets me on. He pushes back until he braces himself against the arm of the sofa, trapping me. I grip his shirt in my fist, only because I would never let him do that to me. And I do it to him, because I get off on that kind of thing. And so does he.

My laptop pings from the coffee table, and Snow breaks away. “What are you doing?” I hiss, and capture his mouth back in mine.

“That’s probably your family.” He crawls back and opens my laptop.

I slump back, keeping my eyes closed. “Is it my father?”

I can feel him roll his eyes at me. “Baz. You read it.” I feel the sleek metal on my chest. I sigh, and I open it.

Dear Basil,

Thank you for your email, and for your candor. We look forward to seeing you both this Christmas. We’ve actually just invited loads of your aunts and uncles for this year. Wonderful timing, isn’t it? All my love to you and Simon.

Also, please remember to bring my mixing bowl.

Sincerely,

Daphne

Snow is peering over my shoulder. “I’ve always liked Daphne.”

I have, too.

—

“I’m not asking you to memorize a family tree here, love.” I’m leaning against the condiment stand, now plastered with plastic snowflakes, a few feet from where Snow is working. The fairy lights around the place sparkle against his skin, complimenting his freckles. I watch the way his arms flex as he pulls chairs back, handles cups and saucers, and carries our conversation with a kind of effortless rhythm that I find really hot. “And you’ve done this before. You’ve spent, what, four other Christmasses with my family?”

“Oh, don’t even try pretending this is the same. This is the first Christmas since your email, not to mention all these people.” He replies without looking at me. He looks up and smiles towards the door when a patron enters, and turns his head back to an empty table. “You have, like, five uncles with loads of kids a piece, who all speak Latin—”

“They speak English too.”

“Not the French ones.”

I purse my lips. “So you have been listening. Don’t worry about them. They stick amongst themselves, anyway.”

“I’ll be right with you, mate.” Simon calls out to the guy. He throws his cloth onto his shoulder and starts walking backwards towards the bar. He redirects his attention to me. “Busy now, I need you to go away. We’ll talk about this at home.”

I give him a pout. I’m six foot two, wearing a Tom Ford coat, and pouting at my boyfriend at a Starbucks. I’m shameless.

His eyes, still locked on mine, sparkle for a second before he turns all his attention on his customer. “Sorry about that. What can I get started for you?”

I let the smile stay on my face even as I exit the shop and head to class.

—

I lay my suitcase and my folded clothes on the bed. I almost ruined a white cashmere on my last trip by putting my toiletries on the same side, so I place it at the very top this time. Then I decide it’s actually better to put it at the bottom of the stack, to keep it safe. So I pull everything out to rearrange. I place my socks in between the empty spaces. “You should focus on your own packing instead of watching me do mine.” I turn to raise an eyebrow at Snow, watching me from the door.

Snow mirrors the gesture, opens his dresser, and dumps a bunch of clothes into a black backpack that he picked up from the floor. “Done.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Will you please let me pack for you next time?”

Amusement lights up his face. “I think I should pack for you.” He sits on our bed, looks at my full suitcase, and looks up at me. “It’s two days, darling. Or is this one of your anxiety-packings?”

“Aren’t you the one nervous to meet my family?”

He groans and flops down on his back. “I’m trying not to panic, but the closer we get, the more I think about it.” He lifts his head to look at me. “Please tell me I’m not the only one. There has to be another cousin’s weird boyfriend or someone who flunked out of uni or whatever your family gossips about.”

I consider it. “Elvira voted Labour in the last election and told everyone.”

“Rookie mistake.”

“I know. Don’t even utter anything remotely political in that house.”

“Great. So don’t mention your school, career, or passions, and we should be good to go.” He sighs before muttering, so low that I can barely hear it, “Bloody hell.”

A beat of silence passes, and I can hear his brain spinning into overdrive. “Snow,” I start.

“They’re gonna eat me alive.”

“They won’t.”

“They will.”

“They won’t.” I look him in the eyes when I say it. “Do you trust me?”

He snorts and rolls his eyes at my low blow. He looks at me for a moment, hesitates, then nods.

“Good,” I say. “Just stay close to me and look pretty.”

He shoves me, hard, and laughs.

—

The drive up to the country is still one of my favourites. Fiona would usually drive me each year in December for the holidays, and I loved watching London slowly disappear. The buildings and adverts fade away. The last minute Christmas Eve shoppers nowhere in sight. The snow on the roads thicker, whiter. Trees replacing lamp posts. The thrill is multiplied now that I’m behind the wheel, with Snow on the passenger seat, his fingers massaging my nape and pulling slightly on my hair. The road is deserted, and I accelerate. The engine purrs with the effort underneath us, and I can’t help but grin. I feel electric.

Snow looks at me. “Are you smiling because you’re endangering my life?”

I raise my eyebrow at him. I can make this drive with my eyes closed. I go faster, and his eyes light up. His finger travels up my nape, and starts scratching my scalp. Gooseflesh erupts across my arms. “You keep this up, and this car will spin off the path.”

“Anything to delay getting there, right?”

My eyes slide towards him. Just as I try to gauge how serious he’s being, he retracts his hand to run it down his face.

“Simon,” I start to say.

“No, s’alright. S’alright, I promise. I think I just need to get through the first bit, then I’ll get in the zone.” I can hear his heartbeat pick up. I slow the car to a halt.

He keeps his eyes closed when he mutters, “I may seem like I’m mental, but I’m fine. I’m great.”

“I’m sure.” I keep my hands on the wheel when I turn to him. “We don’t have to do this, you know.”

“‘Course we do.”

“I’ll turn the car around right now if you’d like. I’m serious.”

“And I’m serious when I say I can do this. I can. Besides,” he drops his hands and looks at me. “I want the roast beef.”

I laugh, but my face settles into a frown. “Are you sure?”

His lip quirks upward. “Start the car, Baz.” As we accelerate, he adds, “Though if Daphne decides to suddenly go vegetarian or something, I swear to Merlin and Morgana we are leaving.”

I smile, and I let my right hand drop down to loosely lock with his left. The rest of the drive is as beautiful as I remember it.

—

When we pull in and step out, there are already cars lined along the path. Snow stretches his arms above his head, his green jumper riding slightly above his waist. I pop open the boot and grab my suitcase, but Snow touches my wrist. “Let me,” he says. I stare at him as he swings his backpack over his shoulder, take my suitcase and the paper bag in his right hand, and shuts the boot with his left.

He takes my hand and starts walking. I roll my eyes. “Are you doing this to impress my father?”

“I’m trying to impress my boyfriend.”

He’s a git, and I love him. “At least let me carry the bloody mixing bowl,” I say, grabbing the bag. I think about how inappropriate it would be to snog him ten feet from my family home. We never did when we’d come for the holidays, but would we start, now that everyone knows we’re a couple? I spot a lamborghini parked near ours, and the possibility dissolves. Fat chance Snow would feel at ease enough to do anything like that.

We approach the door, and I feel the heat and energy radiating off of him. His feet shuffle in place, and he rubs the back of his head. My finger hesitates before ringing the bell. I should say something. Some final words of affirmation, to make sure he’s feeling better—

My eyes widen when Simon shoves me into the wall, and they flutter shut when he kisses me. Deeply. He looks sheepish when he breaks away, stil inches away from my face. “Sorry. Don’t know when I’ll get to do this again.”

I kiss him another time before letting him go. “Idiot.” I let my smile stretch wide across my face as I ring the doorbell.

—

The parlour is already half-full of people, but the staircase is blessedly tucked away when we enter the house. I can see a few of my relatives from where we stand. Most I recognize, and others I don’t. Cousins whose faces ring a bell but have changed since they’ve grown. New wives and husbands. Little toddlers using their magic like firecrackers, sending sparkles and clouds of smoke in the air as they chase each other up and down the stairs.

Daphne shoos them away as she leads us to my room—our room. “How was the drive, darling?”

“Lovely, thank you. The snow’s being kind to us this year, isn’t it?” I can already feel my tongue change inside my mouth. My years with Simon has morphed my vocabulary and made my words looser. More relaxed. Simon’s chuffed, of course; my slurring speech and clipped words are entirely his fault. Here at home, though, it’s like my whole body automatically straightens.

“Oh, yes.” Daphne replies. She swiftly spells the stray toys and wrinkled carpets tidy. The mixing bowl has long floated to the kitchen. “Nothing can be as ghastly as last year. Your Uncle Edgar’s tires had a tough time, remember? He’s got a new car now.”

Ah, yes. The lamborghini.

“Have you got new flowers, Daphne?” Snow asks. This catches me by surprise.

That makes her smile. “Yes, actually. I thought orchids might brighten the place up for the children. You’ll see the poinsettias in the kitchen.” She clasps her hands when we reach our room. “Right. I’ll let you two get settled. Don’t wait too long to come down, everyone’s excited to meet you.” She squeezes Simon’s hand and walks back to the party.

Simon opens the door, drops the bags, and walks back out. “Right, let’s do this.” I look at him. I was planning on showering, at the very least changing clothes. He speaks again before I can ask. “If I go in there, I’m not gonna want to come back out. Let’s get on with it, yeah?”

I hesitate, then I nod. I rub his back while we go down the stairs, as the party sounds get louder. Well, calling it ‘party sounds’ would be misleading. It’s murmurs, conversation, and the occasional clinking of dishware.

Snow grips my elbow before we step into the parlour. “Stay close to me,” he whispers.

There was a time when I wouldn’t say my reply out loud. That was a long time ago. “Always.” I say, firmly.

—

It’s fine. It’s only been two hours, but it’s been fine.

Snow and I entered the parlour, and I don’t know what dark curse is after us, but my cousin Emille approaches us first. Of the French Pitches.

“Basil! Bonsoir, comment ça va?" She had smiled warmly. We always got on well during these events.

“Bien, bien. Et tu?”

We kept up this back and forth for a few minutes, and it became clear that she had no intention of speaking to Simon. “Sorry, I don’t believe you’ve met Simon. My partner,” I say in English. I place my hand at the small of his back and smile at him.

He smiles at her and holds out his hand, right when she goes in for a kiss on the cheek.

The conversation didn't last very long.

As I was steering us away from Emille, I caught my father’s eye from across the room. His smile almost reached his eyes when he called us over. Almost.

“Basil,” He said, gripping my shoulder. “Welcome home.” I nod, and he turned to Simon. “All right, Simon?”

Simon holds out his hand. “Good evening, sir.” He smiles, but I can see his jaw pulled taut. I can feel his pulse picking up. He’s called my father that every year.

I waited for him to correct Simon, to call him literally anything else, but he shook Simon’s hand and replied, “Did the snow give you any trouble on the drive?”

“Not at all. Made it in record time,” Simon replied, while I grit my teeth in annoyance.

“Very good. Your aunts and uncles are thrilled to see you...”

Thankfully, since then, we’ve stayed off to the side as each uncle and aunt exchanged pleasantries and tried their best to casually mention their child being brilliant or athletic or powerful. Each is playing their own game, and they’re all losing. I see Simon intently listening, his eyes darting back and forth to keep up with this pathetic six-person tennis match. I want to rub his back again. To tell him not to waste so much energy for this. That he’s too good for any of them.

Instead, I sip my wine and look around the house. Fiona hasn’t arrived yet—typical. She’d probably bust in at half-nine, after dinner and when the children are about to sleep. I watch Mordelia sit in the far corner near the dining room, her nose in a book, with one of the toddlers curl up next to her. Softie. She’s gotten so tall since I last saw her...

My attention whips back when I hear my Aunt Ariadne says my name. “Are you at uni, then, Basil?”

I uncross my legs and straighten my spine. “Yes, doing my Master’s at LSE.”

I pray she’ll let me leave it at that, and she replies with, “Oh, lovely. Your cousin Rainn is thinking of pursuing one as well. She’s almost done her undergrad. Over at Cambridge.” Good old Aunt Ariadne.

I nod and smile, about to prompt her about her precious Rainn and Cambridge, when my father speaks up. “Have you decided on your dissertation, Basil?”

I try not to sigh when I say my practiced reply. “I have. I’m doing it on democratic theory and fiscal austerity in the EU.” I leave it as vague as possible, and hope the conversation simmers away.

I see Edgar sit up, and I brace for impact. “Good lad. More people your age ought to learn about personal responsibility and the free market.”

I think about my work, the research I’ve poured over, that argues just the opposite. How the time for austerity has long gone. How democratic theory must be at the forefront of economic policy. But nothing can be worse than a roundtable discussion with my dear Uncle Edgar and half the Pitch extended family, so I swerve. “Yes, the school work can be a pain, but I’m grateful for the opportunity.”

“Public discourse has thrown what really matters out the window,” he presses, and I can see his face begin to liven up. “It has corrupted our society. Having Labour in power now, of course, is a bloody nightmare. Giveaways here and there. Iced lollies, penny sweets, thousands of pounds a month? What difference does that make? Throw it all to the wind! There’s a ‘public program’ for anything nowadays.” He makes air quotes with his hand.

“Edgar,” Daphne starts.

He ignores her and starts to speak with his hands. Clearly, he’s enjoying being a world-class twat. “And what will that do with my taxes, hm? Wasting and throwing it to bums and lunatics.”

Edgar’s points are so dogmatic, so cartoonishly cookie-cutter, that I almost laugh, but I feel Simon tense beside me. I gently nudge my thigh against his. Steady, love, I want to tell him.

“Well, dinner’s just about ready. Let’s all wash up and get the children, shall we?” Daphne suggests. Bless her heart. The others heave off the sofa, chairs, and loveseats handsomely positioned all around the parlour, and disperses to different corners of the house.

I start to get up, relieved to eat, when I see Snow stay put. His jaw is set, and his eyes are fixed on a spot at the wall. The parlour has cleared, so I take my hand loosely in his. “All right?” I ask.

His fingers absently toy with mine, but it takes a minute for him to look at me. I’m an expert in reading Snow’s transparent face, but right now, I’m at a loss. He nods, stands up, and drops my hand.

—

Dinner, so far, is hardly better. At least Daphne didn’t go vegetarian.

The table is spelled longer to accommodate all the guests, and it stretches from the dining table, past the archway, and into the parlour.

Next to me, Snow is quiet. He’s aced the table manners over the years, and I smile at the lumps of food on his plate. Underneath the table, I tap his foot with mine, and he taps me back.

This is good. We can do this.

Aunt Willow—A Danish Pitch—takes a sip from her wine and turns to us. “So what do you study, Simon?”

I feel Simon straighten up. “Oh, I don’t, actually. I’m working right now.”

“Like for a gap year?”

“Er, I’m not sure yet.” He chuckles, and he hides his discomfort well. But not to me. “Just reckon I’d spend my time saving up if I’m not sure what I’d like to study.”

“Of course, I think that’s wonderful.” I take another bite, and try my best to look nonchalant. But I already start to dread my family’s behaviour. My body feels like I’m about to enter a duel. “Where do you work, darling?”

Simon hesitates before he replies, “Central London.” I watch his fork swirl around the mash. Willow smiles and nods, and just when I can see her about to turn to someone else, he abruptly adds, “I work at a Starbucks. In Central London. Just by LSE, actually.”

“Lovely,” she says, and I can tell she’s at a loss with what to say next, but that won’t stop her from carrying a conversation. “I tried a scone from there one morning when I was running late to a conference. It was quite good.”

Simon laughs, and I can feel an edge to it. I decide to jump in. “I’ve had all their scones, Aunt Willow. Almost comparable to Watford, if you ask me.”

Daphne smiles. “Maybe someone can give Cook Pritchard a run for her money.”

“Baz, you interned at the Home Secretary’s office, didn’t you? When you finished your undergrad?” I hear my father suddenly add.

“Yes, father.” I reply without a beat, though my brow raises slightly at the question. What is he on about?

“Well, maybe you can connect Simon. He ought to have a better gap year than a cafe, eh?” He’s smiling, but when we make eye contact, I can feel a bucket of cold water splash through me. I clench my fist and I feel a loud clunk on the floor. Simon ducks down to fish his knife from beneath the table. I’m so taken aback from my father’s words that I’ve stopped keeping tabs on him.

I stare at him from across the table. It’s completely quiet now.

“Mummy, will you pass the gravy, please?” An even voice says from three seats down. I look over at Mordelia, with her plate almost empty.

Daphne clears her throat. “Sure, darling.” When Mordelia gets the boat, she sets it down and doesn’t pour it on her plate.

I clear my throat. “That won’t be necessary. I don’t think they’d even remember me.”

He nods once, and goes back to his roast beef.

—

Thankfully, the rest of dinner is quieter. Snow is quieter.

He barely finishes dessert before he excuses himself and steps away from the table. I smile, excuse myself, and follow him through the parlour.

I can tell Snow is trying not to stomp and barrel up the stairs. I can tell his jaw is clenched, so tightly that I can hear his teeth scrape together. He opens the door, and we go inside.

My walls have been permanently spelled sound-proof since I was fifteen. I can still feel the magic I left behind, permeating the wallpaper and the tapestries. A part of my brain appreciates the irony of that; I spell them on the summer I tried to wank my feelings away, and now the spell still stands, concealing the clenching jaw and heavy footsteps of Simon Snow himself. I think I would have been thrilled, had I knew.

Now, though, I feel my stomach constrict, like cold water sizzling against my heated insides. I sit down on the trunk at the foot of my bed. I want to ask him to sit with me, but I know better. I watch him five feet away from me, running a hand through his hair. “You’re angry,” I say.

“‘Yeah. I am.” He’s not saying anything else, but he’s anything but quiet. He takes a deep breath and exhales out his nose. His heart is thumping, and I can hear his blood rush across his veins. He swallows, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob. Like I have countless times before.

When he speaks, it’s barely above a whisper. “I wanted this visit to work. So badly. But those things he was saying. And you listening and taking it, and...and...” He huffs in frustration. It’s demeaning, Baz.”

“Is it Edgar? My father?” I ask. “They’re old dickheads, Simon. They humiliate themselves. Can’t even go through small talk without—”

“That’s the thing,” he interrupts me. His eyes flit to the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but me. “It’s not just </i>small talk.</i> That rubbish he spouts? You think it’s jest?”

“Why do you care what he thinks?” Seeing him so upset is sending a ripple of panic fluttering from my chest. I scramble, and I grasp, and apparently, I break.

“It’s not just Edgar, isn’t it? It’s that whole lot. What would they say when they find out their darling Basil is dating a bloody chav from a foster home? Leeching away his money ‘cause I serve coffee eight hours a day.” He laughs a bitter, joyles sound. He’s still not looking at me. “This is real life, Baz. It’s not small talk. It’s not a chat during a fucking garden promenade at your family’s club. I guess I’d know if I picked up a few shifts there, wouldn’t I?”

Irritation swells in my throat. I think about the Easters, Christmases, summers at the club where I kept my mouth shut when my family makes gay jokes about lads and queers and faeries. He has never thrown my privilege in my face. “You know I don’t mean it like that.”

“Actually, I haven’t the faintest idea what you do mean. Not when you sit there and say nothing.” He breathes again. “It’s not just everyone else.” He repeats. “It’s...it’s you.”

Fights aren’t the same from when we were twenty. Now, at twenty-three, they don’t feel like we’re one shout from breaking up. They don’t feel like Simon will slip from my fingertips unless I hold on so tightly that my knuckles are white with the effort. They don’t feel like the love I had for him was an overflowing static, buzzing through the air and hurting anyone who dares come close. Now, they’re just fights.

But they still fucking hurt.

“Simon, love—”

“Don’t.” He holds up a hand. He stares at a far wall when he talks to me. “Don’t call me that when I’m upset with you. Please.”

I stand there, at a complete loss. He turns around, unzips his backpack, and starts shoving his clothes out on the bed. I can see his hands trembling. His heart is still thumping, blood still rushing. I shut my eyes and start to feel the tears well up. Long before I learned to retract my fangs, I’ve mastered retracting my tears first. But I don’t want to hold them back. Not here. Not with him.

He keeps his back to me, and I stare at it—at the thick ridge, strained and tense. I know he can feel me looking. I want him to keep talking. I want him to yell at me, tell me what to do. Because I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.

I turn around and open the door.

“Your toothbrush is in mine,” I mutter. “You almost forgot it this morning.” I close the door shut, and I go down the stairs.

I blink, but the tears don’t come. Like I said; my body knows when I’m home.

—

When you hang a left by the garage, there’s a brick wall on the side of the house. It’s completely dark at night, and dead quiet. At half-eleven, it would be tricky for any visitor to end up there, and I easily make my way down there without being spotted. It was my favourite spot to sneak a fag. Not that I have one on me. I’d kill for one now.

I stop when I see Mordelia standing near the bins, one leg folded to prop herself up. I see her blow smoke up to the sky, with the soft ember at her fingertips the only light between us. I had no idea she smoked.

I walk up to her and join her against the wall. She looks at me, but doesn’t say anything. “Have you got a spare?” I ask her. I can’t remember the last time we spoke. Surely, not last Christmas?

She flicks open her pack and holds it out to me. I put one between my lips, light it with my wand, take a deep drag, and exhale. I close my eyes and relish the way my head starts to spin.

“Aren’t you going to tell me off?” Standing next to her, I realize that she’s almost past my shoulder.

I shrug. “I was about your age when I started.”

She narrows her eyes and bites her lip, and I think about my life at sixteen. Fifth year. I hope to Merlin and Morgana that she’s not going through even a portion of what I did. I think about saying something to her, or asking about Watford, when she says something that throws me off. “Is Simon never coming back here? After spending a night with the family?”

I laugh, almost bitterly. I never give her enough credit. “That Edgar is a real wanker, isn’t he?” I deflect. She chuckles, and I take another drag. I follow her line of sight and look at the stars. They’re so much prettier here, away from London. I continue talking. “He’ll be alright; he’s always been stronger than me. It’s me who can’t stand it.” I look back at her and give a half-smile. “Do you want him to? Come back?”

I was meaning to take the piss, but she slowly nods. “When he spent that first Christmas with us, I didn’t like it. Not cause he was the Chosen One, or whatever. Crowley, that seems like a lifetime ago.” She takes a drag and exhales. I wonder if our father would blame her smoking on me. “I didn’t like it because you were different with him. Where he goes, you go. And neither of you have any clue. It’s like someone cast ‘Shall we dance?’ on you. And it freaked me out to see you so different. It never changed with every December, you see. Didn’t waver or dampen. And Simon never stopped looking bloody terrified every year.” She pauses when I laugh, and then looks at me when she speaks again. “I can barely remember what you were like before him now. I’ve never seen you so happy.”

I look at her with wide eyes. In the moonlight, I can see how her eyelashes flutter. How her cheeks redden in the cold. I wonder how much she’s absorbed, how much she’s grown up, right under my nose. She puts out her cigarette and stomps on it. Without another word, she turns to head back inside.

“Mordelia,” I call after her. She turns back to me and raises her eyebrow. “Happy Christmas.”

She rolls her eyes, but I can see a smile start to form. “Go back inside. Don’t cock it up.”

—

I don’t know what to expect when I carefully open our door. Part of me hopes he’d be asleep; he tossed and turned all night last night.

Instead, I find him sitting on the floor cross-legged, facing the fireplace. He doesn’t say anything when I shut the door behind me.

I pad across the room and join him, leaving a few feet of space when when I sit. I watch him for a moment in my periphery. He’s hunched over his knees, resting his chin at the top of his knees. I indulge in inhaling his scent. “I��m sorry,” I say.

He’s silent for a long time. In the quiet, if I concentrate, I can still hear the party below us, louder now that they’ve brought out the brandy. I remember the drill, and I hate it.

Instead, I listen to the crackling of the flames. Simon’s even heartbeat.

“I’m not angry anymore,” Snow mutters. He keeps his gaze on the fire.

“I fucked up tonight,” I say.

Simon shakes his head, and I spot a small smile on his lips. “You don’t fuck up, darling. You’re too perfect for that. You miscalculated, maybe.”

He’s trying to lighten the mood, because he knows how. He’s bloody brilliant with that. With me. But I won’t take it. “Simon...”

“We save that phrase for actual fuck-ups, like me.”

“Simon. No.” I shift to properly face him. He keeps his eyes forward, but that’s alright. “You’re right. Those things are important, and they matter, and they were unacceptable. And I didn’t understand that. And I hurt you.”

He hesitates before replying. “Don’t you think they have a point?”

Anger rises in my chest. “No,” I almost growl. “They don’t.” My hands ball into fists, and I force them to open again. I breathe. “Please look at me, love.”

He does. I scoot forward and lean in, pushing his curls back. “You are not a fuck-up, SiImon Snow. I will make a spreadsheet, I’ll write you a speech. I’ll do a dissertation, and I’ll pass with distinction. Because I’ll prove it. Crowley, I will prove it.” Nothing would be easier to do. Would make me happier to accomplish.

He looks down and smiles. He takes my hand from his face, kisses my palm, and laces our fingers together.

“Will you forgive me?” I whisper.

He leans forward and kisses me. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he answers against my lips. He moves to my ear. “I know I’ll never be a fuck-up as long as I’m your boyfriend.”

“Because Basil Pitch doesn’t date losers,” I answer breathlessly.

“Indeed,” he whispers. He moves to my neck, kissing me there. “Merlin, I’ll live up to it. I could be buried with that title, and I’ll be the happiest ghost around.”

I close my eyes and breathe him in. His pulse is so loud, so close to me, that it rings in my ears. I pretend that it’s mine, that we’re sharing a heartbeat. If I had to stay this close to keep my heart pumping for the rest of my life, I’ll accept it. Gladly. Gratefully.

“Do you want to go home?” I murmur against his hair.

He pulls back and looks at me. “Really?”

I can see in his eyes that he wants to. I nod.

“What about your family?”

My lip quirks upward. “I think they’ll manage.”

He keeps looking at me, searching my eyes for hesitation. When he finds nothing, he smiles slowly. “Will you let me drive?”

I purse my lips. “Then we’ll be even?”

His eyes sparkle, lips twisting in wicked amusement. “Deal.”

It’s almost one o’clock in the morning when we step out of the house with our luggage, so I wasn’t expecting anyone to notice. We almost make it past the gate when I hear a voice behind us. “Leaving so soon?”

I turn around. Fiona.

I look at her, unsure of what to say. Of whether or not she’d stop us. She drops her cigarette on the ground and stomps it out with her boot. She rolls her eyes and says, “Just give me a hug before you go.”

I walk forward and wrap my arms around her. When we pull away, she nods at Simon behind me. “Drive safely, yeah?” She jerks her head towards me. “He’d cry if you wreck that Jag.”

I hear Simon chuckle. “I will.”

She nods. “Go on, then. Before anyone sees you.”

I kiss her cheek. “I’ll ring you when we get home.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go.”

—

Turns out, the drive is even better in total darkness.

—

We woke up on Christmas morning at eleven o’clock.

I can’t remember the last Christmas where I slept in so late.

#snowbaz #snowbaz fic #simon snow #Tyrannus Basilton Pitch

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demon-winchester · 4 years ago

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Tremors Behind The Veil Chapter 8

-Chapter 8- Sylvia's POV: You need to pull yourself together I thought to myself as I was leaving my cover. "We meet again" I screamed at Abigor. He glanced at me and I could feel he was smiling. "Hahaha, the small girl survived... I still remember the splendid taste of your brother little vamp" Abigor replied. That broke something in me... Vengeance was calling my name. I started rushing towards the knight, he still had Aiden on his grasp and it was time to free him. I summoned my Twin Sickles and I started stabbing him. The attacks did nothing and I could see Aiden turning purple. I dashed back and I started rushing again. I jumped on some tables, I grasped my sickles tightly, I stretched the chain and I lept on Abigor. I tied the chain on his neck and I started hanging from him. He started sidestepping and I heard him choke, that's when I knew I needed to apply even more pressure. He threw Aiden on a wall, he grabbed my chains and he started gasping for air.

Aiden's POV: I started gasping and gasping trying to catch my breath. This fucker actually came close I thought to myself. I saw Sylvia hanging from him with her chains tied around his throat. "Oh so you finally decided to join the fun?" I sassed while getting up from the rubble. "Oh shit" I whispered. Abigor managed to free himself and he grabbed Sylvia pushing her to a wall. I picked up my gun and I started shooting him. The bullets were affecting him but he wouldn't stop. He kept hitting her while she was down. "You have no magic to help you this time little vamp" he growled. I kept shooting and shooting and after two magazines he screamed in pain. "Erebus...Drag your hand across its blade and let it cut you" Sylvia managed to say while Abigor started to push through the pain. I removed my gauntlet and I followed the instructions cutting myself. As the blood was touching the sword when I was dragging my hand, the blade started changing. It grew wider and somehow purple, it was shining and whatever was inside the blade it was moving around.

While the blade was getting transformed I started losing my armor and my wings, I was now a simple human with simple clothes holding a big shining purple sword. What the hell I thought to myself. I know I need to work fast. I rushed towards Abigor significantly slower than before and this time the sword was actually doing damage, it was really scratching his armor and it left an aftermath of energy after every attack. Red smoke was coming out of every scratch. He was in terrible pain... His screams would shake the ground but he would still not let her go. "You know what...You have taken a toll on all of us...I am ending you" I growled. He started laughing as I was letting the energy from the sword travel through me. I closed my eyes and I took a deep breath as I was trying to contain the energy. One breath, one movement, one moment and this torment would stop. I breathed out and a purple ray flew from the edge of the sword hitting Abigor on his chest. The blast left a hole on his body and red smoke was flowing out of it, he finally fell down helpess. I helped Sylvia up and we slowly approached him. I held the sword on top of his neck. "Sylvia, grab the handle along with me... It's closure for you too" I said to her and if she hadn't been through hell she would smile. "Any last words?" I asked Abigor. "Curse you, your children too. And their children, forever true." he answered as he was chocking. That made me smile. "So...Shall we?" I said to Sylvia. "May God have mercy upon your soul because I won't." I sighed and we pushed the blade through his neck. And with that, complete silence. He stopped moving and what was once the club was now a building in ruins. "Bastard" Sylvia said and she spit on him. "That's a great time for a drink" I said with joy and I headed to the few bottles that weren't destroyed with Sylvia right behind me. I jumped behind the bar. "Pick your poison love" I said. We agreed on a bottle of red wine and we were ready to start drinking. "You know what, it's the perfect time for a toast." I exclaimed. "To putting an end to unfinished bussines." she said raising her glass. "To lady death and may she be on our side on the approaching fights." I continued and our glasses met. "Are you old enough to drink?" she asked. "We killed an executioner that had returned from the dead...Do you want to see my ID or does that cover you?" I sassed. She started laughing. "Calm down boy..let me jest" she answered and she kept laughing. "Anyways, with your club destroyed what are you going to do?" I asked. "Well, good question actually...I've always wanted to move to another country for a fresh start and I don't think I'm getting a better chance... I can't help but see hope throughout this mayhem and well, a fresh start is all I need...I hope. What about you?" she said. "Hm, now that I'm powered up again I need to find Circe though there's a talk I need to have with Lydia." I continued. "How so?" she asked. "Well, you see she doesn't have powers and she came all the way here in the middle of the night while we were fighting...She could've been killed, I told her to stay away from me" and as I was saying that a slap hit me. "She came here to help you, you fool and you're going to hold it against her? You know, you might know how to fight but you really need to learn to understand people more..." she said with anger in her voice. "So what do you think I should do?" I asked. "You should figure it out yourself" she said and she took a sip, "Also about Erebus" she continued. "Oh yeah what's up with that... My armor went away while I transformed it" I said. "Well that's the thing... The hunger this blade has while transformed is insatiable, it draws energy from whenever it can and your armor is a great source, you should remember though... Don't hold it in this form for more than a few minutes after your armor has gone away, it starts eating life force and that's not ideal." she continued. "Alright then, I'll have it in mind" I replied. We talked for a bit more, about her story and about mine too, the bottle had reached its bottom. She placed the glass on the table, she got up, she took a sealed one and she started walking away. "It's time to say goodbye Aiden and about Circe you should try searching in abandoned churches, those places are rotten grounds, perfect for Harbingers...Give her my regards." she sighed. "Bye then, I'll take your words to heart and I hope we meet again." I said with a smile. "You shouldn't hope." she said and she closed the door behind her. Time to head out I thought to myself so I grabbed a bottle of wine and I returned to the hideout..It was morning by now and people have started gathering around the ruins of the club. It took me some time but I reached the hideout and that pun in the entrance always makes me laugh. I jumped on the couch and I fell asleep almost instantly.... I hadn't slept that good in ages. I woke up and I checked my phone. A text from Lydia saying hello sent 10 hours ago....God how long have I been sleeping. "Hi there" I answered and she instantly started typing.

Hello Hi there What's up MY GOD YOU'RE ALIVE You're not getting rid of me that easily ...... Look we need to talk Okaaay, feel free to say what you want Not here... I mean talk in person What's going on? Look, can you be at the garden behind the hotel at 12? Like... Midnight? Yes Alright... I'll be there

And so time came to pass... I dressed up and I headed to the garden. The place was beautiful. Bushes with unique colours all around... A fountain in the middle frozen from the cold with patches of icebound flowers surrounding it, benches placed under old lamps and snowflakes longing to hug the frigid landscape. I saw her and I approached her, we nodded and we both started looking at the frozen fountain. "Look" I told her, "I know I haven't been the most supportive friend. I've been so caught up with the -whatever the fuck this shit is- and I never took a moment to think that I didn't act the way I should have". She raised her eyebrow. "No matter how difficult this thing is, I should have considered how nerve racking must be seeing a friend you've known all these years put himself on the grasp of death..." I continued. "Could you please tell me what you did that you think was wrong?" she asked. "Well, for starters, when I talked to you about this situation you wanted to help and I did my best to stop you from that, even if I wanted to protect you I should have been a bit more careful. Next when I lost my bluetooth I didn't even try to contact you another way which led you to coming to help me.. I should have escorted you out of harms way that very moment but instead I screamed at you and I returned to the shitshow... Lastly, I should have contacted you the moment I was safe..." I replied. "Hm" she said, "Do you know why I called you here?". "No" I replied. "Look, I do want to apologise myself... I felt like a burden coming on the club, I shouldn't be something else you have to have your mind on". "Wait" I said interrupting her, "I never got to tell you that but thank you... You weren't a burden... on the contrary, I don't know how that fight would have ended if you hadn't stepped in at that moment". "Nevertheless, we had a deal and I broke it... The moment that I saw those pieces of rubble fly towards us I knew that I shouldn't have been there and the fact that I made you endure the hit really made me feel bad" she continued. "Please don't do this... You were the best support I could have asked for" I said. "This world isn't for me and I can't pretend that I am able to withstand the anxiety that comes with it... I don't know if I can help you anymore and that includes comms... It's hard for me to say that you know" she sighed. "I understand... The moment I saw him approaching you... I've never felt so much concern and so much hate, not towards him... Towards me for dragging you into all...that" I said. "What I'm trying to say is I'm sorry and thank you.... You were a big help and I'd feel happy to have you on the comms if you're up to it..." I said with a small smile. "There's another thing... The trip ends in a couple of days and you'll be alone here which will make the situation even worse. I'm asking you... Leave this behind and come home with the rest of us" she continued. "I can't do that... I would love to return to how things were but now that's something I'm unable to do... My plan now is saving Circe, returning home and finding a way to get these stuff off of me" I sighed. "That sounds fair" she said, "So, all good?". "It seems like it..." I replied, "We still have a night to spare, what are you in the mood for?". "Okay, I have a great idea. We head to this great 24/7 diner, get a bite, a drink and then walk in the old city" she said excited. "You know what... I dig that, let's not waste a moment!" I replied. And so we begun. We headed to the diner and we bought some snacks and hot chocolate . We started walking around talking laughing and just enjoying this part of the city. The cold was stinging a bit but nothing we couldn't handle, I didn't really mind because it was just what was needed for the scenery to look like that. Roofs covered in snow all around, tall trees almost crystallised by the cold and snowflakes dancing in the breeze. The time was passing fast and after walking around for hours we concluded that we should return. We were moving in an alley to save time and we saw a person emerge from its end. I have a bad feeling I thought to myself, I looked behind us and I noticed someone was on our tail. "Give me your gloves" I said with a low voice and that's exactly what she did. I summoned my gauntlets and I covered them with the gloves. We had almost reached the end of the street but the man was still blocking, he now had his hand inside his jacket... We were getting closer and closer. "Look what we have here" the man said while drawing a knife , "such a great night to do a good deed and help my poor soul". We tried to step back but a woman was in the way with a knife on her hand as well . "I don't think they are really into charity love" she said to who I presume was her boyfriend. "Here's the thing kids, if you give us your stuff we'll let you go, it would be terrible to stain this street with blood wouldn't it" the man said to us, "I like your pink gloves dude, really... Manly" he continued and the couple started chucking. "Oh you have no idea" I said under my breath. "Don't" Lydia told me. "We don't have all night, start with your wallets" said the woman. "You heard the lady, now hurry... It would be a pity for something bad to happen to your lady friend... You get me dude, man to man, you know how that is, she looks like fun" the man said and I felt my heart pumping. "You done fucked up" said Lydia. "Stop talking girl" said the man while putting the knife closer to her throat. I grabbed the hand and I smashed his elbow, a loud crack echoed in the alley, the man fell down and he started screaming in pain and in disbelief. "You little shit!" screamed the woman and she tried to stab me but I blocked the knife with my gauntlets. "What the fuck" she muttered and I grabbed her head with my arm, I smiled and I smashed it on the wall letting her drop down unconscious. His screams were still going and I saw Lydia kicking him in the guts. "His stupid voice enrages me" I said to her and I approached him. "Nah I got it" she said, she took a few steps back and she kicked him in the head knocking him out. "Ouch, that's gonna hurt like a bitch when he wakes up" I chuckled. "Thank you... Exactly what I was going for" she replied and she started laughing. "I hope you won't kick me too but I may have stained your gloves with a tiny bit of blood" I said. "Nah they make them look less childish... You know, the blood really brings out a murderous intent the normal pink just can't" she replied smiling. "Cool point of view... Does that mean I should stain your pyjamas too?" I said with a grin. "Sheesh, I'm trying to make a joke here and you take it as a chance to hit more people" she laughed. "On my defense I read on a fashion magazine that scarlet red is gonna be worn a lot this year" I continued. "Admitting you're reading fashion magazines isn't a great defense per say but you do you" she replied with a laugh. "We should probably call the police shouldn't we?" I said and she pulled out her phone. "Already on it" she Said. She left an anonymous tip and we continued our wall back. Some time passed and we finally managed to reach the hotel. I followed her to the lobby "So I guess this is goodnight" I said. "Oh, you're not going to your room?" she asked. "We shouldn't give miss old hag the chance to ask questions should we" I replied. "Fair" she said, "That was fun... You know, up until the mugging part". "Attempted mugging you mean... But yeah, it was fun" I said. "The trip days are running out" she continued, "we should do something tomorrow". "I would love to but I have a lead for Circe that I need to follow... Can't wait for when I get back so we can hang out more" I said. "Likewise" she said and she yawned, "I guess it's goodnight then". "I guess it is" I replied with a smile, "Goodnight". "Night" she answered and she started going up the stairs. Time to go back to the hideout and be all alone I thought to myself and I sighed. I walked out of the hotel and the sun was rising.

#fantasy #darkfantasy #supernatural #dark #fiction #book #writing #writer #author #books #dark fantasy #dark fic

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thoushallnotfall · 4 years ago

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This might sound pathetic but here we go.. I am 27 years old and completely and utterly single. I never once had a S/O in my entire life.. not even someone who had a crush on me. Never experienced anything close to sex before.. I feel so sad, bitter and envious and I hate that I’m becoming this way. I feel jealous that my siblings and friends experienced many relationships before. One just recently broke up with their S/O not long ago and ALREADY they met someone else now and went on a date yesterday. A part of me is happy for them because I love them, but a bigger part of me just feels so angry that I want to cry. Why do things come so easily for some people who don’t try hard or really even appreciate what they have? I care so deeply and want to have something special and give all my love to someone but I’m stuck watching everybody around me live the life I wish I had. I’m sorry if I’m coming off as feeling sorry for myself. I’m just so confused and hurt. I know I’m ‘young’ but my life feels like it’s basically over and I haven’t accomplished a thing. No relationship, No intimacy, no job..(I was recently was laid off and struggling to find work.) I fear my dream of having children will never happen because this is my ‘prime time’ yet I can’t even get anyone to notice me let alone think about marriage and kids. It feels like my time is ticking and I’m just here existing but not truly living. I am so sorry for basically writing a book here. I view you as a safe place and respect your opinion & advice.

First of all, I'm glad that you feel safe coming to me. I'm not sure if anything I can say will make you feel better, but it means a lot that you feel comfortable enough to share your worries and frustrations with me.

This is likely going to be a very long post.

I can say I know all too what exactly what you're feeling.

I'm the youngest of four siblings. By the time I was 27 my three older siblings were all married (and most had been for many years, since their early twenties) and two had kids. All my friends, even the ones who had been more introverted like me, had started dating and had been in serious relationships, and I never had. It's incredibly frustrating, watching the world around you live this whole other part of life you feel like you're missing out on.

I'm 29 and I still have never had a S/O. I've been on dates, but it's been pretty scarce. I had my first kiss drunk with a guy I didn't really like because I was in this headspace of 'I should have had this by now.'

Last year, after I had thought I had gotten past this mentality, the pandemic got me feeling very depressed and lonely, and I let myself fall back into that hole. "I'm 29, I'm single, I've never had an S/O, I've never even had sex." I was also jobless at the time, and I didn't have my own place anymore and was living with a friend, so I know how dark of a pit that is to be in.

No one can expect to have great mental health right now, so to have these things weighing on you on top of everything else going on is to be expected, and you should know it's totally normal that you're worrying about them. Just don't let them eat you alive.

I'm not going to go into details, but I let my anxiety about this imaginary timeline of "when things are suppose to happen" creep back into my head, and I let a shady date I was on during that time get me drunk and I slept with him. I regret it immensely.

Your first time is not usually great, but putting aside all of that I let my loneliness, my bitterness, my belief that 'it should've happened by now' get in the way of my common sense in a bad situation and now I look back on this moment with nothing but contempt and regret.

There is no 'right' timeline for things. Plenty of people in modern society do not start seriously dating or having sex until their 30s. Their is an entire subreddit about this; you are by no means alone and that is nothing to be ashamed of.

I know that I felt that way about life until I was about your age, them I got my own place and I got a better job, and honestly I got very comfortable being alone. I sort of just didn't like the idea of someone being in my space. I figured if it happened it happened, but if not then whatever. (Then the pandemic hit and...yeah)

Under normal circumstances, I would say if dating is really something that is bothering you, look at what you've been doing up until this point and just change your approach.

I'm single because I rarely ever go looking for dates, and when I do I'm incredibly picky so when I get on dating apps I usually don't give anyone a chance; so I need to actually put more effort into looking for dates if I actually want to date, and I need to give people more of a chance.

It's nearly impossible to meet people in society these days without actively looking for them now. You have to go out and do the legwork; you can't just expect serendipity to come into play and to just meet someone randomly. Join dating apps, join local clubs, go to singles meet ups in your area or try speed dating. I know so many people that have met their spouses on tinder or PoF it is unreal.

Now, obviously there is a pandemic so things are a little crazy right now, so obviously be safe about it.

If you've been doing this, maybe you were like me in the early days and you're sabotaging yourself. I would always make up excuses about why someone I was out with wasn't going to work out 6 months down the line, so I shouldn't even bother trying to date them now because it won't work out anyway. I also had a lot of self-esteem issues that made it really hard for me to think about myself dating or having sex with someone. If that's the case, you may want to work on figuring out why you feel that way, and work on yourself before getting into a relationship.

The important thing to remember is that, again, there is no timeline for these things. It's not a race, it's a marathon. We're all just trying to make it to the end. Be kind to yourself, take care of yourself, and know that it's okay to feel sad and frustrated and lonely; just know you're not alone.

I'm so sorry to hear about your job; things have been hard for everyone recently I know better than most how stressful that situation can be. I hope you can find something else soon!

I'm not sure if anything I said made you feel any better, but I hope you get to feeling better soon! ❤️

-Rachel

#asks

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years ago

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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 151

151

Coming back to Garrison should have been a relief. It really should have. It wasn’t until Lance had cleaned through that he felt like he was really home again. All his stuff was where it was supposed to be, but Matt and Rieva had changed a few things around. Lance felt bad about changing it back, yet he knew it’d grate on him until he had.

Sitting himself down on the lawn, the vampire sighed deeply. Hand clutching at his pendant, unable to not think of Mami. That photo... of his first scan. Taken from camera footage obviously... back when he thought they were only have one child and Mami placed her bet. Back when he thought he’d have his Mami through it all. Back before Allura had dropped her foresight in their lap, and back before everything fell apart. It felt impossible to get Allura’s words out of his head. So he’d done what he did best when stressing, he’d cleaned. Cleaned and organised. Everything in its correct place, normalcy restored one room at a time. The Pidge and Hunk had climbed into bed with them, and... it’d been kind of nice seeing how long it’d been. Keith was left coffeeless, but that was okay because he was there to guide his sleepy boyfriend from the chaos.

This was his first Christmas without Mami, ever. It wasn’t even Christmas Day by a long shot. Presents were a distraction. Opening Mami’s was the hardest... then they dropped one last present on him as he lingered over opening the presents for the twins

“Lance?”

Shooting Hunk a wobbly smile, he’d heard them coming. Kind of glad it wasn’t Keith. He didn’t want to burden his boyfriend with a mess of feelings when all he wanted was Keith to feel part of their Christmas traditions. Being the tech nerd she was, evenings meant losing repeatedly and watching her and Hunk get progressively drunker through the night. He’d tuck them in, Pidge would be bragging about her winning right until she fell asleep

“Hey guys. I’m okay”

Dropping down beside him, both his best friends leaned into him

“Dude. We’re sorry about Mami”

“You guys did nothing wrong. I love that photo. I just miss her”

Wrapping their arms around him, Lance didn’t know who to hug back first

“I miss her too. She like super believed in me. Told me to show those boys how a real woman took on technology”

“Remember how she made all that extra food for our exams...”

“Mhmm... and Lance disappeared, so she called us to come over and visit”

“Remember the first time we met her...”

Pidge laughed at Hunk. Hunk had stammered so badly Mami couldn’t stop laughing at him to relax

“Yeah. I thought she was too cool to be related to Lance”

Lance sighed softly

“She really was the coolest. I miss her... I miss her so much”

Pidge eased off, letting Hunk pull Lance up against his chest as Lance started to cry

“We know you do, buddy. We know. We do too. She was the best to go to the fair with. Always cheering us on”

“She loved you guys. God. She loved you both so much. I thought... so many times I thought that this was it. Then she’d rally through, talking about how she’s a tough old bird...”

“I don’t think she’d want to see you crying like this. She’d call you out and say you’re too soft hearted”

Lance snorted

“Yeah. Yeah, she’d tease me. But... she was like... like my number one supporter. She protected me from everything. And I feel like I didn’t do enough for her”

Pidge punched his arm

“Idiot. Mami loved being with you. And you loved being with her. We all knew you were a total Mumma’s boy”

“That’s... that’s because... She never looked at me differently. When they... my siblings cut ties, she kept them all in line. I ruined my whole family and she’d tell me I didn’t. She didn’t blame me when it got too much for Rachel. Or... or how many nightmares I had. She’d reach for me and hold me in her lap. Sometimes she’d sing me to sleep, and sometimes she just knew I needed her to hold me. I’m sorry... I know I’m not... not okay... I just...”

“Man, she was your mum. Pidge and I are just happy you’re home again. We really missed you”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you guys”

Deciding she needed hug, Pidge wrapped her arms around the pair of them, digging her chin into Lance’s shoulder

“It’s okay. If you’d up and left we would have totally hacked your devices and found some way to track you down. You didn’t leave because you hated us, right?”

“No! No... I could never hate you guys. But... I wasn’t sure about coming back”

“Dude, we get it. I mean, you were mostly here because of Mami. You like to overthink too much”

“Careful, Pidgeon, you’re starting to sound too much like Keith”

Pidge sighed dramatically. Lance glad she hadn’t screamed in his ear. She was so excited over this Christmas party that Lance wondered how many coffees she’d downed before coming over and if she’d slept at all the night before

“I hate to admit it, but he’s got a point. You’re back with us now, and you’re stuck with us. Like super stuck. I mean, I could superglue myself too you, if you’re not getting the point, but I think it’s against some kind of universal law to glue yourself to a pregnant person”

Lifting his arm, the angle was awkward as Lance hugged Pidge without having to move away from Hunk’s chest. His two besties were the best friends anyone alive, or dead, could ask for

“I think Keith would be mad, plus being a vampire means throwing up what you eat... and we all know how much you love the sight of vomit”

“This pregnancy isn’t working in my favour. At least I know I’m in prime position for favourite aunt”

“There’s always Shay. Seeing she knows... Which I’m betting you haven’t had her sign a non-disclosure agreement over”

That Shay now knew meant there was a massive weight taken off Hunk’s relationship with her. He didn’t need to know Hunk and Shay had done the do. Hunk was his best buddy. The feelings it brought up were the same feeling about hearing Shiro and Curtis, or Matt and Rieva, meaning as long as it was consensual it was absolutely none of his business. Hunk let out a long moan of what Lance assumed was despair, before shaking his head

“I didn’t mean to tell her. She was talking about you being gone, and not coming back and why you vanished in the first place when that was completely unlike you... and it kind of slipped out. I thought we were over. She left pretty much as soon I’d told her...”

Pidge took over from Hunk

“Then she called me up, talking about Hunk saying some really weird things. She was as freaked as I was to know these things existed. I told her to listen to Hunk and that he wasn’t crazy, and Shay was crazy enough to go back and demand answers”

Yeah. No. Lance wouldn’t have able to handle it. He was slightly cowardly and he knew it. Though... he hadn’t really had much of a life not knowing about the things in the dark

“I don’t think I could have handled it”

Pidge giggled

“She already thought you were a bit weird. The teeth totally didn’t help with all the flashing around you did, and she had her own theories about you being ill. She’s not as good of an investigator as I am, but she’s got potential”

Hunk defended his girlfriend, Lance not sure how he felt about Shay thinking he was weird when he’d been so nice to her in the past

“She’s still learning. Shay is so smart, I’m sure she’ll catch up in no time. We weren’t that good when we started”

“Maybe. She’s better than Matt. People want to see more of my “Hot Brother”. Like, excuse me?! Matt isn’t hot, and he’s not that smart either. We’re making a show about ghost hunting, not about my brother”

Eh. Sometimes he could throttle Matt and wish an in anaesthetised neutering upon him, yet, he wasn’t ugly. Objectively Lance assumed a lot of people would find mind Matt attractive

“Matt’s not completely unattractive. Like you’re pretty cute for a criminal mastermind”

Pidge made a fake retching sound. Matt to busy arguing with the others over how to hang the photo frame over the fireplace. It’d look nice there, better then the mirror and above his little shrine of super important things on his mantle

“Dude, that’s my brother. No. You’re not allowed to say that”

“I’m very happily taken by Keith, so you don’t have to worry about me climbing into bed with your brother. If anything I should be worried about Matt climbing into bed with me”

Pidge detached herself. Lance clinging to Hunk like gum to the bottom of a shoe. At this point someone might have to scrape him off. Anxiety was so cruel. The voices in his head telling him over and over that they’d never forgive him and he should rid them off the curse that was knowing him. He’d been preparing his heart, knowing he’d break theirs if he chose Cuba over coming home. Blue would go to Hunk, who’d make sure his princess would have all the wet food that her highness could desire.

“You guys are weird. Like, super weird. I get that you’re close, but why would Matt climb into bed with you”

“It’s a wolf thing. They have a high sex drive. I’m a vampire so his ego is naturally ruffled, but my body can also take a lot more than human. Don’t worry, we punched it out and we’re friends. Rieva says I’m part of her pack, which is super weird for a wolf to accept a vampire”

Hunk was making his “confused face”. Lance didn’t have to see it to know he was. Pidge must be wishing she hadn’t gone there. A moment or two of thought passed before Hunk shrugged

“I don’t think it’s weird. They do live with you”

“Hunk, my sunshine. It’s not really a thing in my world. I’ve never hung around werewolves and vampires for longer than I could help it. Normally we’d both kill each other if we were strangers in the wrong territory. Even if we’re “domesticated” we still have strong egos that control us if we don’t keep a tight hold of them”

“But you helped them out”

Bless Hunk from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet

“Yeah. But there’s all this instinct bullshit. Sometimes the smell of Rieva and Matt still makes my face go all vampire like and my nails get super long and scary. I guess maybe if you think of as being drunk and trying to act sober. There’s that part of you that’s all party with no fear and could anything. I don’t know how to really explain ego to you. It’s just there for me”

“Well... we’re here for you too. Shiro says we’re having a baby shower soon”

Pidge wasn’t having a topic change by Hunk on her watch

“Excuse me, but I think we were actually crowning me best aunt”

“Shay would make a great aunt. And a great mother...”

“Can I not have anything to myself?”

Oh dear. He’d better not mention Allura

“Now, now. We all know Curtis would make a great aunt too”

“He doesn’t count. You two are too into those weird soap operas. Plus, Shiro said he’s the best uncle, so Curtis is already one up”

“What about me?”

Lance nuzzled into Hunk’s chest. He loved cuddles with Keith, but Hunk cuddles were a whole other feeling

“You’ll be the very best uncle. As for a baby shower, can we wait? Until things have settled down and we’re closer to June?”

Pidge tugged on his arm

“But we want to celebrate”

“And you will. That reminds me, should I be worried about Keith’s present?”

“Oh, absolutely. We’re got to borrow you both for a bit, but we think he’ll be happy”

Putting two and two together, Lance bit down his groan. Obviously Keith’s bike was at Hunk’s dad’s garage. Great. Now he’d have to worry about Keith out on it

“I know what’s happening. I don’t think I want to think about him back on his bike”

“How did you know?”

“Call it one of my many vampire senses. You guys can borrow him. I don’t want to see that death trap. He’s still got the scars from the accident”

“Fiiiiine. We’ll borrow him. It’s not our fault if he comes back smiling”

Lance smiled at the thought of Keith smiling. He loved it. He loved how unguarded Keith could be when he let his walls drop and let himself be happy

“He does that”

“Much more than when we met him. You’re completely to blame”

Blame was such a dirty and ugly word. Still, if he was to blame for Keith’s happiness, he’d take all the blame in the world.

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

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wolftrapped · 4 years ago

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THE PODCAST — DRINKING BUDDIES.

Drinking Buddies é um projeto independente que busca compreender artistas de maneira intimista sem recorrer ao escândalo e à invasão desrespeitosa, propondo-se à outorgar um espaço para justificativas, diálogos sinceros e correntes. Usualmente regada por bons vinhos — embora existam outras opções para convidados abstêmios — a entrevista consiste em um ritmo de conversa entre velhos conhecidos, sem tempo previamente definido ou obrigatoriedade de resposta. Detalhes de vida pessoal e a tão pública carreira se sobrepõem, criando uma nova perspectiva de indivíduos sob a constante pressão dos holofotes, humanizando-os.

TRANSCRIPT OF THE HIGHLIGHTS: Entrevistada da semana Abbadon de Rosas, inte e três anos, cantora e atriz. (@mosquinhainthewall)

So, not to be that kind of guy, but I feel like to know you personally, we should brush over your personal life. And that includes past relationships.Despite having dated a couple celebrities, I think your most recent and most high-profile partner was that one guy. So... you have dated the butcher. Girl, what the hell was it like?

A: It was like a roller-coaster ride, you get in very excited and you get scared halfway through, you scream a lot, you get your heart racing and you leave that shit shaking and wanting to puke for your own bad decisions and still wanting to do It again. It's fucking nuts, because he's a really charming person and he can really make you fall in love like right off the bat, but the guy is also an asshole who has a lot of issues and there is a point that people just can't take It anymore, the whole sex, drugs and rock n' roll It's too real to be good and It's fucking awful to see. He's good in bed, tho, I have to give him that. When he's not passing out drunk, he's a great boyfriend.

That was... wow. I think this has been the first time you have been so open about this, so I'm kinda honored. I think the glamorization of all those issues associated with success and music in the rock scene is very unnecessary. You can have hits and put out great work without falling into the cliché of the supposed demons that come with it all. I might be on the wrong here, but I don't think you necessarily have to sign a deal with the devil to make it. I can only imagine things got heated in a bad way, because such problems must have taken it's toll on you. And yet, you were together for a surprisingly long time. Not at once, of course, but you had that on and off again relationship. I assume it can be exhausting, emotionally speaking, at least. How did you cope? And why did you stay in on it so long? I mean, it sounds kinda toxic. And as you highlighted it, I assume the drinking was a major problem... how did you deal with it?

A: It's because everything already went to hell, so fuck It. He's going to be pissed off at me anyway, so might as well just say it for once. I'm not going to bash on him for that, there's a lot of fucked up shit going on and that has happened before that makes the whole thing make sense, but like there are other things that just make everyone around him be in a constant state of alert and It's tiring. Yeah, I'm not the easiest person to deal either, but like, even I got limits. Well, that's the thing, like when you love someone as much as I love him you don't want to admit that you can't help and that the whole thing is becoming something that's eating you alive, you don't want to say ‘enough’ because that means giving up, that means putting your feelings above someone else’s needs, but sometimes we have to. It wasn’t toxic and I know It sounds like something someone in a toxic relationship would say, but the thing about Dragan is that everyone thinks that he is the "butcher" for things that he's done to others when in reality the only person he's hurting is himself, he just doesn't see nor understand how that can affect people around him. It's fucked up? Totally, I won't deny it that it got to the point where my parents stepped in and where like 'maybe you should spend some time in Argentina and just step back' but it wasn’t like a toxic or abusive thing where I didn't knew what I was doing. I don't think I dealt with that, because, like, there's no stopping someone with a drinking problem, they won't just put the bottle down and listen, you just have to be there and try to make them see and, well, take care of them after.

So, tiring, you say? Why is it tiring? What is tiring? What happened, if I might inquire. Well, if we really analyze it, no one is actually easy to deal with. We are complex beings with even more complex emotions, so I guess the best we do is just try and navigate feelings and situations in the less crappy way possible. But sometimes, we are driven to the extreme and that makes it very hard to take control of certain situations. I guess what I'm trying to say is that mental health sometimes requires a little bit of what might seem like selfishness, but it's actually not. I mean, you can be empathetic and sympathetic, compassionate even, but people shouldn't expect you to put your needs aside all the time just to think about others. In order to actually be helpful, you must be in a good place about your own feelings, so it doesn't become a vicious cycle of resentment and problematic situations, you know? So I get what you're saying. Besides, if we really weigh things... you're pretty young. Not a kid, of course, but rather young when compared to him. You shouldn't put your health and your youth aside to try and nurse a dysfunctional adult back to good shape while wasting yourself in the process. Love is as much about letting go as it is about being there for someone else. So if you say it wasn't toxic, I believe you. As an outsider, I might not have the full picture, so I can't step in and say you're wrong about how you see the things you went through. I can only imagine how difficult it must have been, to watch someone dear slowly waste away, you know? I guess with alcohol and any other addictions, really, it’s kinda complicated to make the person see how damaging that habit is. I guess they don't see themselves in bad shape. I think at this point, it's only fair to assume you saw the worst of it, as you said you took care of him during his drunken haze. How was it for you? Where did you get the strength to do it?

A: The whole thing, I guess. Because you're constantly thinking if that person is going to do stupid shit because he's high or If he's high because he's about to go into a depressive episode, and the later it’s not really his fault, you can't really blame someone for, like, trying to cope and just kill what's killing them, but for someone who's around and who's emotionally involved in that process, not knowing can be tiring. I don't think really the age It's a factor, I've been in Hollywood for so long that I can tell you that having a relationship with someone I loved, fucked up or not, was the least of the things I did that can be put out as wasting myself. I'm really afraid that I haven’t seen the worst, because If that's true then it's really even more of a risk and it just breaks my heart. I have no Idea, never thought about It. And I'm being totally honest right now when I say I really didn't gave that much of a though on that when It was happening, because It's easier that way.

Yeah, I hear you. You did start on this business at a very young age, and had your share of trouble, with your image and your habits and all that pressure over your shoulders. You coming out on top of that situation and standing in a brighter and more hopeful place is kind of an statement that you can get out of harms way. But having been there, at rock bottom might have given you a different perspective in that whole situation. Tell me... did your experiences made ir more difficult to be involved in it? I mean, I can only imagine you must have felt dragged back into something you were just getting out of. Also, I would like to reinforce that any questions that make you feel uncomfortable, just give me a heads up and we'll move on. This a conversation and in no way I would like to seem intrusive. And on a brighter note... let's be a little intrusive, as well, because I'm simply human and I am curious in an almost voyeuristic way... how were the good times like?

A: Very young. I was a baby And it's not just that, when you're in Hollywood everyone that is around ends up affecting how people see you, like, I was 17 going into rehab for a sex addiction that I didn't have because people around me had a problem and everyone thought that I had a problem too, then. I would like to say that it made it easier, but I think that It definitely was difficult, it brings a certain anxiety every time shit goes down. But I didn't felt dragged, that's actually really a point, people often think that he was, like, a bad influence, like, making me do drugs or other stuff, when he wasn’t, he was very against people taking drugs and getting pissed drunk. A little hypocrite? Of course. Don't worry, I'm fine for now, I think It's the wine. And... it was great. As I said, roller-coaster, when you're on the top It's just the best feeling ever and he was a really sweet person.

I wouldn't say hypocrisy, I kinda get it. I mean, real friends wouldn't offer you drugs, and as a drug addict, it makes sense that he knows how dependent you get on those things and not wanting people he cares about to end up in the same situation. I have a friend who struggled once with addiction and he used to say that very same thing: people who care about you will never want you to go down on the same path as them, because they know how hard addiction gets and no matter how good the rush, it’s just not worth bringing loved ones down. I mean, junkies still harm people they care about, even though in a different way, but I guess in their thought process, it makes perfect sense to make that kind of damage control. Oh, it's good wine, I'm getting kinda tipsy as well. So, that's difficult for me: seeing him as a sweet person. With all the troubles you went through, I have no problems actually imagining you as very nice. And to be honest, I'm delighted to see that you actually are. When it comes to Dragan, however, it's nearly impossible for me to look at him an think 'oh, there goes a nice dude'. I guess it must have something to do with how he is usually pictured in the media but, to be honest, he kinda paints those images himself, with all the reckless behavior, the aggression and the sexual scandals... and his infamous birthday party, of course. I can only assume that must have been another complication, since he is very evasive and closed off to the point of getting violent, whereas you're really open about most things. Did it cause some clash of opinions? How did you manage the public image issues?

A: I get It, I really do, but it's hard not get angry towards It when the person Is getting angry saying that he doesn’t have a problem and then be like 'Yeah, but you can't do this or that because then you will have a problem', It just makes you sigh and go like ’oh, please, just don't’. But he is. He is lovely when he's not having cameras shoved on his face. Well, thank you, It's good to know that I'm not being mean, people tend to say that I look mean. It's just... he tries really hard coming off as not caring and sometimes he can be an asshole, I mean it, the biggest asshole of all, but most of the time he is this great guy that even when you say shit will just help you anyway and try to be kind. And he has the best date ideas and getting away landscapes. A lot. But It is just another thing that we worked around, like I don't mind paparazzis, but he does, so I know that I'm not dragging him to, like, Four Seasons or whatever when I know It's going to cause him anxiety. And It's just common sense I guess.

Well, the people who say you're mean clearly haven't made the smallest effort to actually know you. And don't worry, if I come off as flirty, let me warn you that I am very much gay. So I'm totally not hitting on you now. I guess having a personality and standing up for yourself might come off as mean nowadays, buck fuck people who say that, honestly. I mean... still hard to believe, even with you saying he is nice and all that, I still have a hard time believing he would not try to get me killed for posting this interview, you know? You said it yourself: he'll most likely get angry, and publicly, that doesn't tend to end up well. Getting dark here again, so I'll try to mix things up. Still relationship wise, I have to ask: sex stuff. How was it? Don't judge me, you've seen the butcher and I speak for the people saying I would like to know how was that.

A: Oh, thank you! Well, don't worry, I'm used to coming off as flirty, I know how It's like. I have a friend If you're single, I'm trying to set him up with someone with actual decency. He's not, maybe he'll say something about It If asked and It might get a little heavy, but like It's only because as you said, he is very closed off...And It isn’t your fault, the most likely one to end up with the fault It's me, preach. Oh... I've seen the butcher, alright. You know when people tell you that someone is really good at bed and has a big dick and you don't believe them and then you find out it's actually better and bigger? That's how It was like.

Oh, if you're talking about your co-star, we know you two dislike each other and we'll talk about that in the next section of the interview. If not, thanks anyway, but I have been happily married for a couple years now. God, this is getting racy. I won't even ask anymore because we have to keep things at a bare minimum not safe for work. But well, I guess now the internet would be driven wild: theories that the butcher has a big dick have been confirmed first-hand by his ex-girlfriend. On that note... You've seen the butcher. Not the naked man, the song. Some people say it's about you. Some people speculate many of the songs he wrote are about you, which is an interesting thing to say, since the man can get really poetic. I mean, at least lyrically, he is very versatile, being able to write the most sexual things one minute and switch to the most deep and depressing words the other. I guess what I'm trying to say... can you confirm or deny you're the subject in that piece of music? Because said theory also sparked rumors that you two have been a thing longer than the public eye knows, with some even daring to say he started a physical relationship with you before you were a legal adult, which is controversial, to say the least. I really have no formed opinion on this, since those comments came after a few interpretations of the song, which can be a little absurd, with some claiming is about taking a girl's virginity (said girl would be you, in their version of the facts), some saying it's just about sex with no deeper meaning and some more radical individuals claiming is about a serial killer.

A: No, I'm not talking about Florian, and he doesn’t dislike me, he hates me. Oh, that's cute, my parents are happily married for so long that I'm sometimes ashamed that I don't have a long-lasting relationship. Well, I can assure you that things only get more NSFW, so It's better not to ask... I don't know about that, like, he never told me anything about writiing for me, so I can't really be that much of a helping hand on this matter, but the whole underage thing is not true. I will let recorded for further actions that I did not slept with Dragan while I was underage, you can rest now internet avengers. And I do think It's about sex with no deeper meaning, but I don't know, I didn't wrote it. How that fuck is that about a serial killer? That doesn’t even make sense! That song is clearly about sex. Like the other song that it's about oral sex, there's no deeper thing, that's it. It's about sex.

STAY TUNED FOR MORE!

#( Drinkind Buddies. )#( Extras. )

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drunknihilist · 4 years ago

Text

How’s My Life? I don’t know I Never Really Had One.

I was born in 1990, from 93 to 98 I was raised middle class in the country. Anything I wanted my dad bought it for me because he worked at Goodyear. My mother turned my word upside down from 98 to 2002 when she told me he wasn’t my real father and she was divorcing him. She wound up cheating on him and moving me in with an alcoholic former marine that locked me in a walk in closet for 4 years and for 3 of them when he wasn’t beating me I was his boyfriend and he never worked.

If I chewed my fingernails he beat me. If I didn't turn the light switch off before I left a room he beat me. If he caught me trying to sneak food out of the fridge he beat me. He shattered a flashlight over my head for bringing home a bad report card in front of my mother. He gave me a handjob with my pants on while my mom was sitting in front of me a few times and even though she looked me in my eyes she didn't say a word just kept watching television. He made me read porn magazines and watch pornographic films with him since I was 9 years old. He would make me hold his cock when he went to the bathroom to take a piss. I would wake up to him in the middle of the night having sex with me so I start sticking objects inside of myself thinking that if I stretched out the area that maybe I would be able to handle it more easier. There were even times where I would feel unusually tired between 5-7 in the evening which was around the same time he was taking me on these gun shooting trips with a man named George Reynolds and I have my suspicions that he was giving me drugs and letting him have sex with me when I was passed out. He stuck loaded guns to my head threatening to kill me if I told any of my teachers about it. So I was kept in solitary confinement and fed one or two meals a day to keep me alive so they could get my SSI check in the mail to buy beer with it.

I spent my 8th grade year living at my grandmothers house away from all the abuse and I actually made the honor roll. So my mom leaves him and meets my little brothers dad and talks me into moving in with her again and I spend 03 to 06 repeatedly getting grounded while his family bullied and beat me so they could get my SSI check in the mail and buy more beer with it. To make matters worse when we had to move out of a place in west logan his daughters left my belongings on the property after they moved their stuff out and the property owner threw all of my stuff in the garbage. The only thing I had to my name was the clothes on my back and I didn't even know that it happened until my mother called me and told me about it.

Then I told my grandmother I had enough and I want to move in with her she welcomed me with open arms. I actually went to the dentist for once because my mother never took me in the past ten years and I figured out I had 11 cavities in my mouth. I didn’t know how to interact socially around people so the friends that I did manage to make became a second family to me. So from 06 to 08 I was more focused having a social life and having two short term relationships than I was on my school work so I barely even graduated high school.

A woman that I wanted to marry that I spent 9 months with off and on and I lost my virginity to told me to meet her across town so that she could go back to my grandmothers house to meet my uncle in the basement for a quickie out of revenge for me breaking up with her multiple times and only got caught because my step sister walked in on the two of them so I spent the end of 08 to 2010 getting a lot of casual encounters out of my system trying to forget about her but nothing made me feel better.

From 2010 to 2012 I tried to get a job but I have had such an emotionless thousand yard stare that it was like trying to give a job interview to a robot. So when nobody would hire me a friend of mine named David was paying me a little bit of money working and training me as an contractor plus I also got a second job because a man name Charles who was running a business in the back of his place said that he needed a second locksmith. My grandmother kept getting sick so I began to spend more time taking care of her than I was showing up where I needed to be. David replaced me with another coworker and they ended up opening their own business and Charles ended up relocating out of state.

Here I am 22 years old I’m broke and I have to be a caregiver to my grandmother. Boy I could really use a friend, but as months went by nobody called me, texted me, came by the house. It got to where I was so depressed I checked myself into a mental health facility for a week to try to cope with my situation. Then when I got home I decided I love my grandmother dearly but I need to leave this town. I ended up leaving early in the morning to catch a bus and my grandmother talked to me on the phone thinking that I was a son of a bitch and she doesn't have anyone that's going to take care of her. So I had family who lived in a different state that took me in and I got a job working as a telemarketer. My uncle back home ends his own life and none of my family is helping my grandmother with emotional support so I have to move back for over half a year. I go back out of state again and another uncle gets me a job working as a maintenance man. However he cannot stop his addiction to pain pills so whenever he got done blowing his paycheck he was always wanting me to give him most of mine. Then one day I put my foot down and said I’m not doing this for you anymore and he told lies to my boss and got me fired.

I got a job working as a caregiver under the table for a lady who lived across the street from me because all of her family was thousands of miles away. So 400 dollars a month was a lot better to me than nothing. And at this point I was taking turns being a caregiver for my neighbor, grandmother and the aunt I was living with. My aunt has MS and I had two cousins that were in their mid to late 30's that never lifted a finger to do dishes or clean house I was stuck doing all the house work for free and whenever I am not in Logan and I'm back home I'm still expected to do it.

I have to regularly travel back and forth to my grandmothers house because whenever I call her she says she doesn’t eat for days sometimes because even though my mom lives in the house directly behind her she cannot come over and cook 2-3 times a day. It’s not like my mother works because now that she is single she keeps my little brother in the house just like she did to me most of my life while she plays games and spends his SSI money. I can barely afford to put shoes on my feet and my grandmothers pet cat sat on top of a new laptop and soaked it in piss and she said that it was my fault because I didn't lock the door when I went to sleep. So I went back home and didn't wanna talk to her for a few weeks out of anger.

My real father comes back into my life in 2017 and a year later he actually gets me a job working with him for the mayor of a small town near Columbus renovating rental properties. I find out mom cheated on him with the man that worked at Goodyear. The mayor pays me 200 dollars for a week of work and I thought if this is the rate I’m starting out I’m just gonna move up here. So I worked with him for over a month but I was still calling my grandmother twice a week just to see how she is doing. I try to call one day I never got an answer so then I tried again the next day and a nurse answers the phone and tells me she almost died.

I told my father I need to go back and be with her so when I got back my mother said she was gonna pay me 50 bucks to help my grandmother get situated inside of a nursing home facility. I said ok when I get done with this dad can just pick me up and take me back when all of this is finished. Not only was I lied to but my grandmother fell and fractured one of her bones and had to lay starving in her own piss and shit for 3 days before any of my family bothered to come over and check on her. She only spent one day in the nursing home before she started crying and screaming she wanted to go home. I wound up having to spend 2 months living at her house again changing her depends cooking all her meals the whole nine yards. Funny thing was when me my aunt and my mom went to pick her back up from the nursing home they had a good laugh after making the comment that they should have just let the crabby old bitch walk back home with her depends around her ankles holding onto a walker.

Here I am 30 years old all of my teeth are rotten and I don’t have any money for a dentist. I have never been able to stay on one job long enough to even know the first thing about paying income taxes because my aunt and my grandmother take turns crying over the phone that nobody is taking care of them. I would rather sleep under a bridge than go on welfare. I have never owned a car or got a stimulus check. I have never had my own place and I have never owned a smartphone. And all my family can do is sit around and laugh at me when I'm not around and call me a loser, meanwhile their kids are going to college and are living out on their own, but if it was any of them dealing with this they would have put my grandmother away a long time ago. It’s like as long as she is my problem they don’t have to deal with her but the minute they hear she’s too sick to eat or doesn’t feel well they would be the same people to jump on the phone yelling, “WHY HAVENT YOU MADE HER NOTHING TO EAT!” I am not a danger to myself or anyone around me.

My father has not been back to see me or even call me because every single time he shows up my family asks him if he has any money, I have no friends and I have anxiety attacks that keep me from sleeping at night because I know I’m going to die homeless under a bridge because I’m at that age that nobody is going to want to hire me anymore. I do little jobs here and there so I can buy some vodka and cranberry juice so it’s easier to go to sleep at night. For the past two weeks yet again here I am at my grandmothers house. She goes through 3 pairs of pants a day because of bladder problems I have to change her depends 7-8 times a day. I have to comb her hair take her phone calls do her cooking. Sometimes I don’t sleep for 2 days straight just so I can sleep on the third day to be up early enough to help her to the bathroom.

Again I’m 30 years old but it’s like I spent 17 years of my life in jail for a crime that I didn’t commit. And I told my grandmothers caseworker back when I was 23 years old that people I've tried to talk to over the years have told me that I can get paid for the work that I'm doing with her and all she said to me was that I would interfere with the income she was getting from the government so she can't do it. My mom doesn't own a car and she lied about being disabled so she could live off of her children’s SSI and my grandmother doesn't know how to read or write and has never owned a car but got pregnant 8 times so she could live off their SSI and my grandfather could use it to get drunk with. My family does like the remind me though that because I don't believe in God that I'm going to go to hell. Scientists have long since proven that dinosaurs existed millions of years before humans. I finally understood that the enlightenment that the Buddha was talking about was actually another word for nihilism. I suppose I understand letting go of material possessions and not causing suffering to other living creatures. Nihilism for me is like Buddhism except I am still a meat eater. I think people who are vegan do not understand that if these animals were not in such a demand that they are then they would go away just like the rest of the other species we've had a hand in wiping out as we let our population grow larger and larger.

I love my 84yo grandmother very much and she tells me she loves me and my mother has not told me she loved me in over 22 years. And I'd like to think that I'm finally going to be free to be by myself and make my own choices for once by the time that my grandmother is dead. But I know all that is going to happen is I'm going to be one of those 40yo men that stand on the street begging people for spare change. Till one day a cousin of mine is gone drive up in a new car laughing at me telling me I should have went to college. It's February 2021, I got a birthday coming up in 4 month, I have never been to jail one day in my life, I have no criminal record of any kind. I've just always been this dog that gets is chain tugged on and I bark.

The only thing that the world has taught me is people only have time for you as long as it is convenient for them and even when they appear genuine I always wonder if everything coming out of their mouth is a fucking lie. I have fantasies about picking up the pieces that Hitler left behind after he shot himself in the head only I do not believe in a master race. I feel betrayed by my own empathy for other human beings, I don't care what color they are, they are destructive selfish semi evolved primates that are too brainwashed by their own bullshit to accept the fact that money is their God. And just because there are children across America dying in the hospital from cancer that doesn't mean that when they die they got a heaven to go to.

After all those days trapped in my room when I was a child barely even weighing 90 pounds I never thought for one minute I was gonna grow up to be a loser. Lol if any of my family read this they would just say that if I was so damn miserable why didn't I just get out? Oh cool so that means you're gonna move her into your house? No??? Does that mean you're gonna help her with all of her daily activities so she doesn't cry to me on the phone every couple of days that she's not getting any help and all her home heath aides do is do dishes and sit on their ass? No??? Ok then what kind of Christmas card did you pick out for me this year? Whoever said we were getting you one, you need to get a job you damn loser. And it's actually worse now because they stopped all of her home heath aides last year because my mother gave her bed bugs and she didn't want to say anything about it.

I feel like a human trafficking victim with stockholm syndrome but when I look up what a caregiver is it actually says work without pay right in the description so it's not like I can take anyone for lost wages. I've never even got a present for my birthday party or for Christmas since I was 7 years old and the only time I do is when my grandmother gives me some money so I can put some new shoes on my feet or get a new coat to wear.

But I'm a man I'm not supposed to talk about my feelings I need to suck it up.

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amandaray-nature-vs-nurture · 4 years ago

Text

Take a Mosey on Down the Diagnosis Trail

Was I depressed? How depressed? Was it “clinical” or “seasonal” or “major”? From what I remember, at first I was clinically depressed. Sprinkle some Zoloft on it.

I didn’t like taking the Zoloft and whatever else I was prescribed; didn’t like the notion of having to take pills to be “normal”. As I know now, that is not an uncommon sentiment. I am pretty sure I was diagnosed within those same few years as having some anxiety disorder, but it was not an “official” diagnosis at first. I remember going back and forth with trying to accept this diagnosis and take my medication when I was supposed to. I had access to the internet back then, but it wasn’t like it is now. Not for most of us, anyway. We didn’t think of searching for things online and definitely couldn’t just type a vague idea in the web address bar and get anything other than an error message. Back then, free AOL CD’s were everywhere by the thousands and I began collecting them by the pounds in my bag and would just hide them in random places all over any house or place of business I found myself at.

Within the same year of being released after my first committal, my sister got arrested after snitching on her own damn self and my mom and I moved to a one road, one grocery store, no red-light town. We lived in an itty-bitty house, my window looking out onto a massive lot for semi-trucks to back up and turn around in (at least, that’s all they ever did right there) at the cotton factory. I could jump out of my window and be in said lot before I even completed taking a single step. There were adventures to be had there many intoxicated nights (one more serious than the rest), of the infinite types of adventures that would have resulted in death in most other instances. I’m lucky to be alive. “Lucky” doesn’t even begin to describe it. I hear stories about young women or men just being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or making risky decisions, and not making it out alive -- and I feel like absolute shit knowing that I dodged so many bullets and they did not.

So, as I was saying, my mom and I lived in this house -- just us -- and things steadily devolved. Meaning: there was absolutely zero psychiatric care during that time. Loads and loads of self-medication, and lots of Live LiveJournal-ing (I have tried to recover the account, to no avail). Our house was the house for getting fucked up. It makes my heart palpitate and my guts twist to write this, so I am lucky (there’s that word again) that this is not a story detailing many of the happenings of that wretched place, or any of the wretched places that came after. This house is where my addict tendencies became known to me in a way, and where I developed an eating disorder.

I was never diagnosed with an eating disorder, but my best friend at the time Meghan and I would see who could go the longest without eating while taking fists full of diet pills (I always gravitated toward Metabolife) that we’d stolen up the street. We lived for the Pro-Ana sites/blogs that were around back then and used their tips and tricks and thin-spiration images daily. We ended up purging together after eating anything. We’d drink hot water and punch each other in the gut after jumping around for a while. We were competitive regarding things like who could get the next bone to be more pronounced, and how much we were able to purge vs how much we ate/drank, clothing size, weight, measurements, our side-effect symptoms of whatever we were taking or doing or just the whole mess in general, who bruised easier, who cut the most, the deepest -- who cut the most fucked up saying into which area of skin and using what -- and even our stools (speaks incredible volumes about your diet).

Meghan and I were extremely codependent. I spent those years with her cycling through an infinite amount of possible diagnoses, but I was never helped in any way. I remember a few episodes of psychosis or mania or whatever it was that are mixed with significant chunks of amnesia in my memory. When I think back on the few close friendships I had as an undiagnosed and untreated (or wrongly diagnosed and wrongly treated) person, I imagine that to the people who found themselves stuck in my orbit -- the people who found themselves hypnotized by my incredible vulnerability mixed with utter recklessness and abandon… it must have been awful for them. Especially when they eventually snapped out of their trance and saw what was happening to them because of my disastrous and dangerous ways. My willingness to go as low as one could imagine, at the blink of an eye. I annihilated souls one at a time -- but, for the very clear record, they were always willing participants. I never forced anyone’s hand. Maybe I obliterated the very essence of people, but by that point, they all chose their fates to be intertwined with my own.

In that itty-bitty house next to the cotton factory, my mom ended up abandoning me with a guy I had been dating for a couple of weeks, at most, and his mother ended up taking me in. I only have a few solid memories of that traumatic experience, as well as for the years that ensued at Robert’s house. I lived there, hurting myself in secret and having panic attacks and floating through the world only kind of remembering getting from one year to the next. There was more self-medicating and spiraling. Some cock fights. What I am saying is, there were a whole lot of years that I went untreated.

The next diagnosis that I remember is a Bipolar Disorder diagnosis. I have no idea if I was allegedly Bipolar I or II, but there were other diagnoses such as Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Generalized Anxiety, Panic Disorder, and PTSD. Everyone uses OCD so loosely, “Omg, I know; I’m (or someone else they know is) so OCD about…” That, or they think that everything I do is going to be immaculate and organized; perfect. They don’t talk about the intrusive thoughts or the weird obsessions that no one can know about or the compulsive rituals we do that often have nothing to do with anything but if they don’t get done, something awful will happen and it will be all our fault. I remember when I was young I had the literal Fear of God in me. I was obsessed with death and Heaven and Hell. Thought about it all the time. I was told that God heard our thoughts and that he could always see us. Every night when I would lay down to go to bed, I forced myself to think of every single possible infraction I made that day and to beg God’s forgiveness for it while clutching my Precious Moments Bible. I lost a lot of sleep due to this and so it became increasingly more difficult to stay awake each night. I would pinch and scratch and slap myself to stay awake and beg for forgiveness. At some point I also began praying for the health and safety of every single family member I could think of and then for the health and safety of every person I could recall in my memory from being out and about during the day. I spent entire nights probing my memories for every possible soul who needed my prayers in order to be safe. I had to cycle through them, imagining God cupping his hand down around their home like a shield to keep bad guys from breaking in and to keep fires from happening or violent weather or someone from inside the home from hurting them or aliens from abducting and probing them (Fire in the Sky ruined my life that extra layer) or just whatever else my mind could come up with to be terrified of happening. I had to do this, and I had to do it as many times as humanly possible every night. I would, of course, pass out sometimes. I’d awake with a jolt and grab for my Bible. But, wait… what if it is upside down?! I would think. Surely there are crosses and other things within this Bible that would only invite evil and ensure my spot in Hell if inverted?! And so I would get up, turn the light on, and check. Getting out of bed every time I was unsure whether or not the Bible was facing the correct way was exhausting -- more exhausting than this whole thing already was. I came up with a solution: tie a cord from the string on my light to the rail of my daybed. That barely lasted a night because I was convinced -- despite the cord being nowhere near slack enough -- that the shit would get wrapped around my neck and kill me (and I would likely die with an inverted Bible in my hands, before I could finish my prayers). Solution? Super-glue a penny into the top left corner inside the front cover of the Bible so that I could just feel in the dark which way the hateful thing was facing. Problem solved (still have the thing).

The next diagnosis I had was Bipolar with Rapid Cycling (maybe some of the readers can see where this is going at this point). Also, the PTSD was bumped up to C (complex)-PTSD. I was put on mood stabilizers, lithium, some new anti-psychotic that was promoted as something else through the commercials on television and anxiety medications. I was in my early twenties at this time. Maybe mid. No later than mid. I had lost my mind after the death of a loved one and uprooted my life with Aidyn to move to Savannah at the petitioning of a couple I had met while I worked at Taco Mac. The wife worked there with me, and the husband came up to see her a few times. He was a tattoo artist and had found work in Savannah. They had outed themselves as swingers to me and requested my presence in their bed more than once. Oh, and they were also the most intensely religious people I’d ever met in real life. I was told that I’d have a job in the tattoo shop so I talked a coworker, Christine, into going down there with me to scout an apartment and “interview” at the shop. Fast forward to meeting my husband and a while with him, having Shane -- There’s a whole lot of dirty and dangerous detail in there, with another couple of stints in hospitals, and a whole lot of Ambien being used for everything but sleeping before this point, but they’re not important to this story.

I have just brushed over something here that is a big issue: skin picking. Excoriation. That has been a daily habit ever since I can remember. I think I have glossed over it so far now because it is not an issue which we are currently dealing with and focused on, but it has gotten so bad on a number of occasions that we couldn’t even go in public. That is not specifically my thing and so I am not very familiar with it, but I do have access to some of the memories we have about it.

After a couple of stays in jail and yet another hospital stay, I had the diagnosis of Schizoaffective Bipolar Disorder with Psychotic episodes. That one got me to the medications I am currently taking. All of my previous diagnoses still stand. I hit one of my bottoms during this time. There’s a whole lot more that I don’t remember than I do.

A few more stays in jail and a few years of sobriety later, and I had a diagnosis of DID. Dissociative Identity Disorder. I am still navigating that one. I’ve definitely been back forth and all around with this. I have mapped out a timeline of sorts in a journal, and it’s astounding how much sense this diagnosis makes. Finally: A diagnosis that actually fits all the way around. It is still quite alarming, and I am still trying to establish good communication between alters within my inner world and be more okay with referring to us as us or we or a system. We know now that the path we took could have never led us anywhere but here. We understand that only due to our most recent move to a place where we are safe with the kids, were we able to come forward and be known.

DID is a disorder rooted in trauma, and usually only makes itself known after the system has moved away from the direct influence or vicinity of the family member, caregiver, or other person (or people) who make it unsafe for parts of the system to be known. They were birthed by severe trauma and have existed for strictly covert missions to protect the other parts. Walls of amnesia are typically built up around the fractured pieces of personalities (this is always done at a young age -- usually sometime before seven to nine years old -- before personalities integrate into one personality), and stay up and operational in order to keep awareness of the trauma from reaching certain parts. When there’s no longer present and persistent perceived danger, these alters are often left with not knowing what to do with themselves and questioning their own validity and justification for living in an environment where no one needs to be protected. They have been operating within the system for so long in their own way of doing so, and the reactions of parts and systems to no longer being actively life-saving vary widely. They will reach out knowingly or not, and sometimes a system will even break down.

My story is not atypical. It is a classic story of a journey down Diagnosis Trail through the mental healthcare system. The average amount of time for people to get to a correct diagnosis of DID is seven years after initially becoming a patient within the mental healthcare system. Finding professionals who are willing to diagnose and treat dissociative disorders is a challenge, because despite the presence of the diagnostic criteria in the DSM-5 and clear cut texts on the treatment of DID, there are many people out there who have so little experience and knowledge of our disorder that they don’t “believe” in it.

This was my diagnosis journey, made intelligible and digestible as I could manage. I know that I touched on several different stories, and I definitely had to skip over so many significant times that came up as I was writing. I mean, I summed up multiple years at a time with just a couple of sentences, some of the time without even one actual meaningful memory to go with them. That’s what this blog is going to be for, in part; though, most of the details of my life are going to be published in my Memoirs. Thank you for reading and feel free to email me with or comment below any questions, comments, or concerns.

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