#or the fact I saw my dad Sunday and he was sick Monday with the stomach bug

[alexisrosemullens]

I ate something that completely destroyed my stomach and just eating rice for dinner to calm it.

[passingdaysthings]

05.22.2023 - Things Are Good and Bad

Today is Sunday (Technically, Monday)

I am writing this late at night as usual, and I am feeling pretty good. I think it’s pretty crazy how many things can change in a month. Recently, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer, but she caught it in the early stages so she will be fine after surgery. The diagnosis has put a strain on our relationship though because I have begun to feel like her love for me is very conditional, and that condition is that I have to do what she says. We got into a huge argument because I rescued 2 bunnies from an Amish farm, and she is not very happy about that. I haven’t really felt the same about her since we got into that argument, and I am just not interested in having a relationship with her anymore. I love her, but I just don’t feel like putting in the effort to pretend that I am okay. I am not okay, and I don’t appreciate how she treats me. I do a lot for the family, and I have never gotten a thanks for gratitude. As for my dad, I don’t really think too much about my relationship with him either because he can be caring one day and cold the next. All I really care about right now is doing well in school, getting a job, and moving out. Living with my parent is ridiculously suffocating, but I have to continue until I can move. I am not sure where I want to move yet, but I know that I can’t handle being around my parents anymore. I don’t like being controlled or feeling like I always need to meet their conditions. It is sad that the relationship I had with my parents have disappeared, but it is what it is. It’s funny because they treated me this way all because I rescued 2 bunnies. Honestly, I adopted the bunnies for my mental health because a lot of things have been hard for me. My little sister moving away made it really hard to deal with my parents because she wasn’t their to buffer things, but now that she is back, my relationship with my parents have also put a strain on her. I feel bad because she is the middle man between me and my parents, but there is nothing I can do about it. I have always done what my parents said, and it is really mentally taxing. I always have to keep my feelings in or push aside insults in order to be a good daughter, and that’s just not what I want to do. I am not interested in their love if it is going to be contingent on being a “good” daughter purely on their standards. I know for a fact that I am a good child, and it’s their fault for pushing me over the edge. Now, they can just pretend to have one daughter since I barely talk to them. Also, my two bunnies names are Oreo and Milk Tea/Baked Bean, and I think they have really helped me mentally. Taking care of them is a distraction from a lot of the things that are happening around me. My 3rd quarter of grad school will be ending in about 2 weeks, and I am so ready for it to be done. I think that I really need a break because my period had skipped this month, and I also went about 2 weeks without really eating or just getting sick when I eat. Things have been better in recent days though, and I have been able to eat.

I have been watching insta reels more than usual.. probably because of the stress, but I came across a few that really hit me. It has to do with my relationship with Taylor. We ended our more sexual relationship back in February, and we have been pretty normal friends since. We still talk everyday, and we still do the usual gaming things together as well. The reels I saw basically said that I should realize that I am romanticizing every little thing someone is doing because I like them too much, and I feel that. I really do think I have done that. Not in the past, but in more recent days. I think it was very clear in the past that there was something going on even though it turned out to be nothing. I knew what I was getting myself into when I said I liked him. Back on track, I think I can confident say that I am over it because I forget that he hasn’t talked to me, and I don’t really feel as strongly about the things he says. A small part of me will always like him because of the things that we shared and the bond that we have, but I don’t feel a lot now. There are times where I wonder if the bond and fondness I feel for him is just one-sided, but that will have to be a conversation for another day or a conversation that will never happen. I will continue to watch over our future too because my curiosity will also remain. The curiosity of how our relationship will develop when we meet S/O’s in the future. 

Overall, I would not say that I am doing well mentally, but I am in a place that I can handle. I was also able to delete all the notes I wrote about random feelings I had when something happened with Taylor. I just haven’t really been overwhelmed by those kinds of situations, and I am happy about it. I hope that I can continue feeling content towards our friendship. 

-P 

[maizumis]

— HAIKYUU BOYS HAVING A TEA PARTY WITH YOUR DAUGHTER

ft. timeskip!miya atsumu, bokuto koutaro, oikawa tooru, kuroo tetsuro, iwaizumi hajime

note: female reader ‼️ watch me write about dad!haikyuu all the moments I didn't have with my own sperm donor

MIYA ATSUMU after a long day at work, you were coming home a little more late than usual and as you were opening the door with a sigh, the first thing you listen is “PEASANT, DO NOT TOUCH THE QWEEN CWON”, yeah that’s definitely your daughter and your pretty sure that the “peasant” is your, oh so-called husband. Curiosity took the best of you, now you were behind your daughter’s door listen carefully what atsumu was saying to her, “WHATYA MEANT PEASANT? I WANNA WEAR A CROWN TOO YA KNOW!” your daughter gasps in disbelieve, “daddy, mom is da queen, I’m da princess and yer the peasant! And clearly, mommy isn’t here so don’t touch her cwon!” One thing you know is that you wouldn’t like to see and hear a screaming match between the peasant and the princess in question, thinking that stepping in is the best option, you said “what’s the matter in here?”, next thing you know, your daughter with his big brown eyes that she got from her father, comes running at you, screaming “momm- I mean queen! Yeah, queen! yer just on time for the tea party, this peasant needs to learn some manners” you picked her up, enjoying the way her little arms go around your neck, “yeah? What did dada do this time?” while her face is on your neck, she tells you with a whisper “psss mom, he is not dad now, remember is tea party time” and now with her voice a little more loud she announces to you what he did “he wanted to use ya cwon!  Literally had to scream at him cause of that! Peoples this time are onbelivabol” the las part coming with a sigh, “ugh I now right? Why don’t we teach him some manners then?” After a little thinking, your daughter tells you “uh-huh! Yer right my queen, now I will leave to the bathroom and come back to continue this celebration”. While she leaves, atsumu comes at you with a back hug asking if ya really taking her side? with a low tone, so you replied with “of course I’m taking her side, she’s a child, our child in fact” atsumu looks at you with big eyes and tells you “she is right, people these times are onbelivabol but I still love you my queen”, now facing him, noses and foreheads touching each other you whisper to him “I love you to my peasant” and after a little chuckle you continue “thank you so much for this”.

 BOKUTO KOUTAROU he always had tea parties with his daughter on Mondays after his volleyball practice with the MSBY. He couldn’t go to last week's party because of an away game, and he was devasted and promised her little princess that he would get her something. Now he is coming home from the airport with three Elsa dresses, one for his precious child, the other for his precious wife, and the last one for him, it was very difficult to find one of his size cause of his beefy body, but if he promises his little girl something, he is gonna make it without a doubt. “HEY HEY HEY! GUESS WHOS HOME” he screams while putting his suitcase down “HEY HEY HEY DADDY! I MISSED YOU SO MUCH! MOMMY IS MAKING DINNER WHILE I PREPARED OUR SUPER DUPER EXTRA TEA PARTY!!” he picks her up with one arm, making his way to the kitchen to involve you in a hug with the arm he had free “we missed you, kou” snuggling into his neck, and while his arm tightens around you he replies with a soft tone “missed my two girls too, so much” he puts her daughter on the floor again and tells her “missy I have a surprise for our tea party, why don’t you finish the preparations and then mom and I are gonna go there with dinner? Sounds good?” whit a little nod she answers with “yeah dada, that sounds good”. After hearing her enter her room you ask your husband what did he get for her, and when he tells you he didn’t get one, not two but three princess dresses you’re over the moon, the fuck you’re going to do with three dresses? you don’t question him and keep cooking as if you wouldn’t have to put on a frozen show in less than half an hour. “BABY IM COMING TO YOUR ROOM WITH HOT FOOD, BE CAREFULL” the little girl sees you in all your glory, with the most beautiful Elsa dress she ever saw “MAMA, WHY YOU DIDNT TOLD ME ELSA LET YOU BORROW HER DRESS? YOU'RE SO PWETTY!” laughing a little at her comment you decide that it was the best to tell her is a secret between adults, excited to see her reaction when her dad comes to her room with the same dress on him and a little one for her. “IM COMING IN!” your husband yells and your daughter’s eyes are the bigger you ever saw them, running like the flash to steal the dress that was in his dad's hands. “Daddy, that dress is so pwetty on you, and there's one for me! We are all matching! And now we are gonna have our four curse, ugh no, cruse, ump corse, mommy how do I say it?”, “course darling, four meal course. Now dada, why don’t you come to eat with us this fancy dinner?” after nodding and making his way to the both of you, bokuto thinks he is gonna ask for another kid one of these days.

[jadequeen88]

A Waitress’ Worst Nightmare

A/N: Written for the BNHA Degeneracy 9-5 collab! THIS IS 18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: TW.sexual harassment, TW.oral(recieving), TW.degredation TW.nipple play, TW.Mommy kink

Pairing: busboy!Keigo, linecook!Dabi, f!waitress!Reader

You’re a college student just trying to get by. The biggest worry you should have right now is if you had enough time to finish that psych paper or when you were going to meet up with your calculus study group. Instead, you’ve got a much larger problem facing you...A problem that has permeated through every aspect of your life. Your coworkers were Grade-A-Assholes who decided making your life miserable was on the top of their to do lists.

You thought waitressing at the 24/7 diner downtown would be a breeze. Money was tight and since you were 21 and almost done with your undergrad, you wanted a little more financial independence. Little did you know when the owner hired you that you’d have to work alongside the two biggest shitheads in the city.

First there’s Keigo. To the untrained eye, he could almost seem charming. But you found out pretty quickly what a dick he was. He was working as a “busboy”, but in reality he didn’t do anything but flirt with every woman within his field of vision. Keigo would leave the tables a mess until there wasn’t a clean one left in your station and you’d be forced to do his job for him.

“What, babe? Stop getting your panties in a twist. I’m real busy these days. You know I’m practically running this place now.”

Oh yeah. How could you forget? He took every opportunity to remind you of that fact. Keigo’s dad happened to be buddies with the owner, garnering a sense of trust with the old man. He slowly weaseled his way into running day-to-day operations while the elderly owner stayed home most days.

Although the diner needed another busboy to pick up his slack, Keigo refused to tell the boss to hire another. You overheard a phone conversation between Keigo and your boss just last night:

“Nah, boss. We’ve got it covered here. No need to hire another busboy. The waitresses are just finding reasons to nag. Women, am I right?”

You were fuming.

***

As bad as Keigo was, his friend Dabi was exponentially worse. The line cook was, without a doubt, a drug dealer. The only motive he could possibly have for working there is having a place to do business with his “customers”(and of course, to help Keigo make your life a living hell). It clearly wasn’t because he needed the money since you’d seen his “friends” slip him generous wads of cash when they stopped by the restaurant. If cleaning up Keigo’s messes sucked, trying to put in customer’s orders with Dabi was pure torture. 

“Eggs over easy instead of scrambled? I dunno, Princess. Sounds like it’ll be a pain in my ass. Whatcha gonna give me if I do it?”

Then he’d lick his lips with his long pierced tongue, leering at you over the counter. Gag... You wondered if that ever actually worked in his favor. 

One semi-decent thing you can say about Keigo is that he’d never actually laid a finger on you. The same can’t be said for Dabi. You learned after your first day to wear shorts under the skirt of your uniform. You were behind the counter slicing lemons when he took his spatula and lifted the hem of your skirt. Before you realized what he was doing, he was calling out to his partner in crime.

“Fuuuuuck, Kei! Look at the ass on the new girl!”

You wondered what was going on until you felt a breeze and realized it was your ass that was on display. You’d slapped the spatula away and straightened your skirt, but not before they both got an eyeful of your black, lace panties. You cried for ten minutes in the bathroom after your shift that day.

***

The day you’d been dreading was finally upon you. No, it wasn’t a big test or project due... You had to ask off work for your cousin’s wedding. That meant dealing with Keigo (who was now in charge of making the schedule each week).

You squared your shoulders and went over what you would say over, and over in your head so you wouldn’t stumble over your words when you had to face him. 

“I need to have Saturday off for my cousin’s wedding. I can work the Sunday morning shift instead.”

This was repeated on a loop in your brain as you walked down the darkened corridor towards the office. You let out a long sigh and gently rapped your knuckles against the wooden frame. The sound of shuffling and muffled voices seeped through the thin faux wood and a moment later, the door swung inward. The thick cloud of smoke and strong, skunky smell almost knocked you flat on your ass. Instead of seeing Keigo alone working on the schedule, you saw that he and Dabi were hotboxing in the small office.

Knowing they were back here getting high while you closed the diner by yourself was the last straw. You slam the door behind you and stomp forward to lean over the desk Keigo was propped up behind.

“Listen you shit heads!” you slammed you fists on the desk knocking over a jar of pens. “I am so fucking sick of slaving away in this shit hole while you two get high and fuck off back here. You’re going to let me have Saturday off or I swear to Christ, I’m calling the boss and spilling my guts! About the weed, the drug deals, the snarky remarks, the groping, EVERYTHING! I’ve had enough!”

There was a moment of silence then the two of them burst into a fit of laughter. In a blind fit of rage, you leap across the desk and grab Keigo by the throat. When you made contact and squeezed as hard as your small hand would allow, a whimper escaped his throat and his eyes rolled back.

Now it was your turn to laugh.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you gripped your fingers tightly again to see if you could pull any more sounds from him. He didn’t disappoint. This time it was a whimper followed by him nervously mumbling.

“Heh, Kid... Seriously, knock it off. This shit isn’t funny.”

Your eyes traveled down the front of his body and when they landed on the crotch of his baggy khakis, your suspicions were confirmed. This loser who acted like a certified pussy-slayer popped a boner just from you choking him.

You leaned in close to his face, using this as your chance to get revenge for all the hell he had put you through. “Aww little Keigo... Not used to being roughed up?” you cooed. “Dumb little baby Keigo...I bet if I kept this up, you’d come in your pants like a dirty slut, wouldn’t you?”

You felt movement over your shoulder and heard a deep chuckle. “Dude you’re so pathe-”

Dabi gasped as you grabbed him by the crotch with your free hand and squeezed. He was already hard. You met his eyes and see panic etched across his features. A sadistic grin spread across your mouth as you tightened your grip. His head fell back and let out a whimper almost as needy as Keigo’s. 

“You’re both going to do exactly what I say or I swear, I will tell every girl you ever try to speak to what a couple of pathetic virgins you two are...”

***

“Ungh! Plea-please... Harder! I... I need more!”

*SMACK*

Your hand lands hard across the blonde’s face, drawing a pathetic whimper from his throat. He thrust his weeping cock along your shin whimpering, craving more pressure to relieve his suffering.

“You don’t get to tell me what you need, Keigo. Shut your fucking mouth and be grateful you get this much.”

You throw your head back against the office chair and hum as Dabi eats your cunt like it’s his last meal.

“Mmm... See Keigo? See what a good boy Dabi is being? He knows his stupid mouth is only meant for one thing... Making Mommy’s pussy feel good.”

The praise causes the dark haired man between your thighs to moan into your clit sending a pulse of pleasure through your lower body. The ball of his piercing circles your clit and you feel the familiar ache of an impending orgasm begin to tighten in your belly.

Keigo starts shoving Dabi away from you with a growl. “This is bullshit! I haven’t even had a chance yet!”

Dabi elbows him, ”Fuck off Kei! I almost had her finished off!”

Furious from being jerked back from the edge of your orgasm, you grab a fist full of blonde hair in one hand and black in the other. You pull their flushed faces up to look you in the eye.

“If you want to come at all, you will shut...the fuck...up... and get me off. Now”

Dabi wasted no time in diving back into your dripping slit, panting heavily while he ran his pierced tongue in and out of your swollen entrance. Keigo attacked your neck, whimpering as he planted sloppy kisses down your collarbone until his tongue was licking long stripes up you clothed nipple.

“I think you can do a little better than that, baby,’ you cooed into Keigo’s messy blonde tresses, sweetly tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. He took that as his cue to remove the clothing between your hardening bud and his hot, wet tongue.

Keigo latched onto your nipple, nursing it with vigor while he gently grazed his fingertips over the other. You heard him mumble something into the soft swell of your breast.

“Speak up,” you pull him away from your nipple with a pop, “I didn’t catch that...”

“I-I said... I...”

Your attention was drawn to the man between your legs as he began to suck down hard on your clit. The hand you had wrapped in Keigo’s hair tightened causing him to cry out.

“Mommy! Please! Wanna be your good boy! Wanna make Mommy come...” He sobs as he starts frantically licking and sucking your neglected nipple. This pushes you over the edge and your long awaited orgasm rushes over you. 

After you come down from your high, you push them off and begin getting dressed while the two men you left on the floor look up at you with wide eyes.

Dabi, still panting from eating you so vigorously, chokes out a little half sob.

“But.. where are you goin? We did what you asked!”

“Yeah babe! what the fuck!”

You eyed both men and let the tension hang in the air before turning and walking to the door.

“Give me the whole weekend off. Then we’ll arrange something Monday,” you look over your shoulder, “As long as you don’t piss me off before then..”

You walk out of the office with the biggest grin you’ve had in a long time and feeling a lot more relaxed. Maybe this job was going to turn out better than you expected. 

[dejaaalm]

Monday Silence

My dad had been in the hospital since August 2nd because he wasn’t feeling well. No one was available to be at the hospital with him and my mom on Monday, August 8th, so I told my siblings on Sunday night that I would call in sick to work and go be with them.

Monday came. I woke up at 8 AM. It was a beautiful sunny day. I got my kids ready and dropped them off at my sister’s house. I picked up my mom and we both headed to Regions Hospital. Jerry stayed the night with dad so he was exhausted. He said dad was still pretty much the same. By this time, we were told that dad had pneumonia and had been using an oxygen mask at the maximum level to support his breathing for two days. He was very weak but still responsive. He was still able to nod his head and talk.

The night before, I compiled a list of questions I wanted to ask dad and topics I wanted to talk with him about. I normally did this when I took dad to some of his appointments. I did not want to have any regrets or missed opportunities. We always had something to talk about. But when I arrived in his room and saw him, I could not contain the sadness within my heart. He had seen my mom and some of my siblings weeping for him to get better. I chose to be calm and cherry. I walked in and said cheerfully “Hi dad! I’m here to be with you all day.” Dad nodded his head.

You’d think that we talked a lot but we didn’t. I found myself at a loss for words. Aside from talking with mom, I sat in the room in silence with my dad while constantly checking on him and holding his hands. Every time I wanted to say something, I just wanted to cry. I massaged his hands and feet. Helped reposition him when his body felt sore. Translated when he needed something.

Dad hadn’t sleep in days. He hadn’t eaten anything for over 24 hours. He was not allowed to eat or drink anything because he had pneumonia and a leaky feeding tube. He was confined to the bed. Dad had told me how thirsty he was throughout the day and they wouldn’t let him drink anything. 

I had all day to be with my dad. It’s the moment we all wish we’d have before someone we love passes away. But here I was, unknowingly, with the perfect opportunity to ask anything or say anything, and I couldn’t say anything. My siblings had been texting and messaging all day. I just watched dad and observed everything going on. I watched him suffering and cried in silence. My dad cried off and on too. My mom wiped his tears and told him to not cry. I wanted to take that stupid mask off of him. I wanted to feed him. I wanted him to get up and move around. I wanted to take him home and free him from his pain. I wanted to do so much for him. At one point, my dad said to my mom “Let me go. I’m done.” My mom and I cried and she said “I’m not letting you go yet. Our corn is not ready yet. You have to come home and eat the corn I planted this year.” Dad said “Then let’s go together. I hate this mask.” I just squeezed my dad’s hands and cried.

Dad trying to take a nap. He was fighting hard to not sleep because he kept saying he was afraid of “going” if he fell into a deep sleep.

Hanging out with my daddy. He didn’t want to watch tv so mom and I just stood beside him and talked to each other to keep him company. At one point, I was telling a funny story about my sister Mk and we saw my dad chuckling a little bit.

Dad was given a break from the oxygen mask for a bit. Mom was holding onto dad’s hand while he told her that he wanted both of them to “go” together.

This was the view from dad’s room overlooking highway 35E north and southbound.

Around 1:00 PM, several doctors and nurses came in to dad’s room with a Hmong interpreter. It was not the conversation I wanted to hear. The doctor said that they’ve done everything they could to help dad and that we needed to prepare for the worst. Dad’s pneumonia was not getting any better. The doctor asked my dad if he was having any anxieties and dad responded in Hmong that he was in fact feeling worried. He is worried for his family because he knew that his time was coming to an end. I just bawled my eyes out when I heard him say that. Dad started crying and said that he didn’t want to leave his family behind. The interpreter translated what dad said to the doctors and they all nodded in silent. Then I called my brother Hang to join in on the conversation.

After the doctors left the room, my mom kept crying and praying for my dad. I brushed my fingers through his hair and wept as well. The strongest man I know is dying and there's nothing I can do to help him. My heart ached with so much pain.

Mom cleaning dad’s dry lips and moisturizing it.

The last thing my dad said before I was leaving the hospital was “Me naib, muab qhov dej ntawm kov rau kuv haus.” (Sweetie, give me some of that water to drink.) The nurse had allowed mouth swabs only which was a little stick that had a tiny sponge attach to the end of it. I was only allowed to dip that sponge into the cup of water to swab that into his mouth. My mom wept as I did that and said to dad “You always refused to drink water and now that they won’t let you drink anymore, you are dying to drink. I feel so helpless honey.” The last thing I did for my dad was swabbed his mouth with water to quench his thirst.

Before I left the hospital, I held my dad’s hands and said “Txiv, kuv yuav mus tsev es koj yuav tsum uv thiag thiag. Kuv tu mi tub ntxawg txawj txawj taug kev lawm es koj yuav tsum los tsev los pom nws taug kev.” (Dad, I am going home now so you must keep fighting. My baby Zayn is walking now so you must come home to see him walk.) Dad nodded his head. I hugged my mom and left his room.

On the way home, I cried and prayed to the Lord. “God, there are lots of people dying everyday and those who pray to live another day. Over a year ago, I selfishly prayed for you to keep my dad alive, to heal him, to keep him here longer with us. And You did! If you must take him home now, I will be sad but my heart will be at peace knowing that he is going to you.”

My dad passed away the next day, August 9th, around 3:30 PM. Due to Covid restrictions, only a few people were allowed to be in the room with my dad to see him take his last breath. I got to see him at 3:50. His hands and arms were still warm. I held his hands, rubbed his arms, and brushed his hair. I cried and said “Who will I call dad now? We still have so much to talk about. So much I still need to learn from you. So many stories that I still want to hear about. I’m not ready to live a life without you dad.”

“Sometimes, the most beautiful things are found in silence.”

I will never forget that Monday. God knew I needed that moment to be with my dad. I needed to just be with him in silence. Thank you God! Thank you for letting me be with him that Monday. I am still mourning. I am still sad. I am still heartbroken. I don’t know when this will end but I am at peace knowing that my dad is not suffering anymore and that God hears our prayers.

[mrsparknamjoon]

06. the snowstorm | snowed in • pjm

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pairing: jimin x reader word count: 5.642 genre: fluff, romance rating: pg15 warnings: cursing (once), angst (i’m sorry i can’t help it) au: single parents trope: neighbours to lovers tags: single dad!jimin, journalist!reader crosspost: ao3

summary: stuck at home due to bad weather, Jimin and Y/N are forced to face a frightening and unexpected situation. will it bring them closer together or break them up for good?

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Sunday started off rough for Y/N. She woke up feeling terrible, as if a truck had run her over and then backed it up. An unbearable headache made her open her eyes at 11am. Wow, I slept that much? she thought as soon as she saw her phone screen. In fact, that was the worst decision ever, because the light was so bright it immediately caused a twinge of pain.

The moment she tried to sit up, Y/N felt the first shiver and found it a little strange. She was partially covered with a good comforter, the temperature in the apartment was 70ºF as usual and no windows were apparently open. It didn't make sense, did it?

When she finally managed to get up, she peeked out the window and everything was white. The street, the sidewalk, the trees, the window sill. In Y/N's hometown, it didn't usually snow this much. She doubts she had ever seen a storm up close, and while it would make a great photo for Instagram later, it was totally impractical to leave the house, let alone while feeling this sick.

Deep down, Y/N didn't want to admit that she was unwell. She hadn't had the flu in years. Not even a cold! Nothing. And oh my god, how was she supposed to work this week? These symptoms had to go, she didn't want to ask for a day off. But anyway, that was a problem for later. Let Monday's Y/N deal with it.

After making a cup of tea, Y/N checked the living room window and, to her not-so-great surprise, it began to snow again. Very hard actually. Bo made sure to be close by, sensing Y/N wasn't feeling 100%.

After a few minutes of sitting on the couch, holding the hot cup tightly between her hands, Y/N notified the dog, “I'm going to order some medicine and food online. Do you need anything?”

Bo tilted his head and wagged his tail.

“I don't have time to wait for you to think, Bo” she petted his head, “The storm is getting worse”

Where is my phone? she wondered, patting her sweatshirt pocket and then the couch over the blanket. Bo thought she was trying to play with him and started to jump and bark all happy.

“No, silly! The phone” she chuckled, “I want my phone. Have you seen it?”

Bo got off the couch, went into the kitchen, and barked a few times at the counter.

“Good boy!” Y/N stood up, feeling even heavier than before and a slight dizziness quickly threw her off balance as she took her first step and bumped into the coffee table. 

Bo barked again. He wanted to help.

“I'm fine, Bo” she assured, going towards him, finally confident in her own steps.

“Let's see... delivery app, delivery app” she scrolled through her phone, “Here! Wait, unavailable? What do you mean, unavailable? This is important”

Frustrated with the deliveries being suspended due to the storm, Y/N decides to finish her tea and take a bath to relax. In a few hours she would try again. Surely the weather would have improved by then and deliveries restored.

“Maybe I should eat something first, right?” she looked down and Bo groaned, “Of course, you too”

Y/N filled Bo's bowl with some food and proceeded to warm up what was left of the budae jjigae she made on Friday. She wasn't hungry, but she figured the headache might improve a bit with a full stomach.

While inside the tub a few minutes later, Y/N wondered if it would be best to go to a hospital. The bath as great as it was didn't help as much and she began feeling extremely sleepy, which was weird because she got up an hour ago.

The bath was nice and she felt her muscles relax thanks to the water's temperature, but the aching in her body didn't subside. Her head was no longer throbbing, yet she still had intense pain all over it. She knew the moment she stepped outside the bathtub everything would be back to what it was. 

“This sucks!” she mumbled.

Bo watched Y/N carefully finish her bath, change and tuck herself under the covers once again. Concerned for his owner, he lay down pretty close as she fell asleep cuddling him.

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After lunch, Jimin and Jia were sitting on the couch watching some animation on Netflix. He, distracted by his own thoughts. She, almost falling asleep. Suddenly, Jimin remembered the gift that Y/N had given Jia. Where did he put it? Here in the living room? Her bedroom? He couldn't remember exactly.

Getting up slowly so as not to startle his daughter, he began his search for the yellow box with the white bow. 

Jia loved yellow, and it was these kinds of details that touched Jimin's heart. How had Y/N noticed this? He doesn't remember Jia mentioning it during their play date. Funny how a stranger could be this mindful about random things, especially regarding a kid that's not even her own. It didn't make the slightest sense to Jimin but he found the gesture (among others she had shown at the party) very meaningful, making him appreciate this new friendship even more.

And there it was! Sitting on top of Jia’s tea table. Jimin opened the box and found the small white frame with a smooth texture that mimicked marble. As soon as he held it, the memory of Y/N explaining what it was came flooding in.

“It’s to hold this” Y/N whipped her phone to show a picture of Bo and Jia hugging in the backyard, “Don’t they look adorable together?”

Yes, they were incredibly adorable, but what surprised Jimin the most was how he felt when Y/N came to show him the picture, all giddy. She was standing so close that he could smell the scent of her shampoo, see the glow in her eye and her rosy cheeks. She was breathtaking. Although the second he realized he was staring too hard, he handed the device back and took a step back, secretly praying she wouldn’t notice or think of him as creepy.

There was something about her, beyond the nice attitude, perhaps to do with personality or character. Y/N was winning Jimin over day by day simply because of the energy she radiated. It was inexplicable, and to other people it might even sound like he was exaggerating, but Jimin felt that he could trust her. It's been so long since he trusted someone too by the way. It would be really nice to have that bond again. If he only let her get to know him.

Jimin reached for the phone in his pocket, started to look for his neighbor’s name among the contacts, and soon realized that he didn't have it. Of course he didn't! He never asked. You are so dumb, he thought.

Nevermind, this is a quick fix. There's a snowstorm, Y/N is definitely in her apartment — where could she possibly be in this crazy weather? — so Jimin is going to knock on her door and very casually ask for her number. Not a big deal at all. He got this.

Leaving the frame on top of the TV cabinet, Jimin noticed Jia in a deep sleep, making this the perfect time to go over to the apartment next door.

He knocked once. No response.

He checked his phone. 12:43pm.

He knocked again. Nothing. Not even Bo barked. Weird.

“I’ll come back later” he said.

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Around 5pm Jimin decides to try knocking one more time.

“Jia, I’ll be right back” he said to the girl sitting on the floor with a coloring book and a few dolls, “I’m going over to miss Y/N’s house. Our door will be open but stay inside, okay?”

“Okay”

When he gets to his neighbor's doormat he decides to knock a bit harder, just to make sure. And would you look at that? It worked! Jimin immediately heard Bo barking and rushing towards him. A few seconds go by and Y/N has yet to open the door. Bo barks one more time and starts scratching the door trying to get Jimin’s attention.

A voice inside Jimin’s head said ‘Maybe she’s in the shower or sleeping’ which might be true, yet he started to get this unsettling feeling in his gut. Something seemed off because usually before Bo barks a third time Y/N is already at the door.

“Hey doggie, it’s me!” he greeted, trying to turn the knob but the door was locked. 

Jimin tried to think fast. What’s next? Spare key!

“She must have one” Jimin squatted and lifted the mat, “Oh, come on! She doesn’t?” He then moved his search to a nearby vase, “Please be here” but it wasn’t there and he increasingly got more nervous.

“I’ll be right back” he promised Bo. The dog whined in reply.

“Daddy, I'm hungry” Jia complained as Jimin walked in and closed the door.

“Alright, angel. Let me see what we have here” he opened the fridge and looked through the shelves, “How about a sandwich?”

“Yes, please”

While getting everything ready he decided to call the building manager and tell him what was going on. Was it possible that Y/N had gone out for a few hours? Yes. Was it possible that something had happened to her? Also yes. He preferred to err on the side of excess.

“Hello, Mr. Yoo. This is Jimin in 30B” Jimin placed the phone between his ear and his shoulder to prepare Jia’s sandwich.

“Good evening, Mr. Park” the older man answered, “How are you doing?”

“Yes, I'm doing good, thank you”

“Horrible storm, huh? Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I know, this storm took us by surprise” he commented, spreading some strawberry jelly to a slice of bread, “Well, the reason I'm calling is because I'm worried about my neighbor in 30A” he spread cream cheese onto the other. 

“The new girl? What's her name again? Uh... Y/LN?”

“Yes, Miss Y/LN” Jimin almost dropped his phone, “She hasn't answered the door in a few hours” he whispered, turning away from the living room.

“Well Mr. Park, maybe she's out of town or traveling and you're worrying too much”

“I know but she wouldn't leave her dog alone for so many hours. I'm thinking that something might have happened” he looked over his shoulder, Jia was coming in his direction.

“Oh, yes, I see,” the building manager noted, “and how can I help you?”

Jimin handed Jia the plate and went to this office for a little more privacy.

“I would like you to open the door using the extra key to the building”

“Open the door?” Mr. Yoo slightly gasped.

“Yes”

“I don't know, Mr. Park, maybe we should call the police? Korea has strict rules about privacy”

“I understand that but you don't have to come in, Mr. Yoo” Jimin pleaded, “This secret can stay between us” he added with a subtle smirk.

The man took a few seconds before replying. “Will you take responsibility?”

“Absolutely” Jimin reiterated, “Just open the door and go, I'll take care of the rest”

“Okay, I'm coming down. Wait for me”

Jimin raised his hands as a sign of relief, “Thank you, Mr. Yoo”

“Yes, yes” he huffed.

A few minutes later the elderly man knocked on Jimin's door with a not very friendly expression and hinted he was ready to do the favor. Jia this time joined her dad as he carried her attached to his hip.

The moment Mr. Yoo opened the door, he turned around and walked away, taking Jimin’s word for it. Meanwhile, Bo couldn't hide his own relief from seeing other people so he jumped super high licking father and daughter.

“Why don’t you sit by the TV and play with Bo while I check on miss Y/N, huh?” Jimin put Jia down.

“Okaaay” she smiled, trying to act funny.

Jimin’s heartbeat was at a frantic pace. With every step he took down the hall, the more anxious he felt because he got transported back to that day when Jia had disappeared while playing hide and seek, which is a little ironic since that's how he met Y/N.

Bathroom? No.

Room on the right? Not there either.

Room on the left? Ding, ding, ding.

“Shit” he ran to the side of the bed.

Now closer, he saw that Y/N was sleeping and a part of him relaxed, making him instinctively reach out and try to caress her. Before he could even regret such an intimate gesture and withdraw his arm, he felt her skin on fire.

“No, no, no” he begged, moving his hand over her forehead, “You’re burning up. This is bad”

Okay, focus Jimin. Y/N needs you. Come on!

On the way to the living room, he stops by the bathroom and grabs some towels from the cupboard under the sink. No fever medicine on sight, let alone a first-aid box. Great.

“Jia, I'm going to need your help” he stated, using a soft but firm tone.

The girl raised her head and immediately went to her father in the kitchen, where he was waiting for her with a chair in front of the sink.

“Come here” he lifted her up, placing her on her feet in front of the faucet, “Wet these towels for me please, okay?” he pointed to two white pairs next to the drying rack.

“What’s going on, dad? Where is miss Y/N?”

“She is sleeping in her bedroom but she needs our help” Jimin gives a faint smile to Jia, not knowing exactly how to explain the situation without scaring her, “She has a fever. Remember when you had a fever a few months ago?”

“Yes” she nodded.

“It’s the same thing” he pinched her nose, “What we need to do right now is put wet towels on her body so she can feel less hot”

Jia hummed in agreement and looked around confused, “But is she going to be okay?”

“Yes, angel” Jimin kissed her the top of her head, “While you wet the towels I’ll look for some medicine”

Jia agrees and turns on the tap.

Jimin started to thoroughly search the kitchen and found nothing but food and utensils. He moved on to the rest of the house, desperately rummaging through all the drawers, cabinets, and bookshelves. No luck. She had zero medicine, but he certainly did. 

Jimin tried to pull from his memory the image of his medicine box and guessed that he had some options that may be able to help. Considering all the current possibilities, they couldn't leave the building and they couldn't order online, leaving them with calling emergency services, and although Y/N was pretty hot, she didn't seem to be at that stage yet.

“I’m done, daddy!” Jia shouted.

Jimin enters the kitchen to help her down the chair, “That’s my girl, thank you Jia” 

Jia watches her father twist the towels, waiting intently for his next instructions with Bo by her side. The dog spent the last few minutes going back and forth between her and Y/N as if he wanted them to know he was there to help and protect.

Bo climbs on the bed and lies down next to Y/N, snout resting on her arm, eyes sad but very alert. Jia decides to sit on the edge and watch her father doing the work, which consisted of applying a smaller towel to Y/N’s forehead and a larger one between her neck and chest.

“Jia, do you mind looking after miss Y/N and Bo for a little bit? I need to go home and bring some medicine for her” Jimin asked, wondering if Jia is feeling scared about this whole thing.

Jia nods, “Sure!” and moves up the bed, sitting next to Bo to pet him gently. The poor dog needed some sort of comfort as well.

“I won’t be long, promise” Jimin cups Jia’s cheeks.

Back in his apartment, Jimin went straight to his master suite and gathered as many cold, fever, and pain pills as he could. He then spread them out on the bed to check them one by one, quickly coming to the conclusion that he had more children's meds than adult ones, so he made a mental note about preparing better for such occasions. What if he got sick? Jia couldn't go out to buy it, could she? He had to think of all the scenarios, but he was a teeny bit afraid to think of extreme situations.

“Good job” he cooed a couple minutes later entering Y/N’s room, “Thank you, Jia! Wanna go watch some TV with Bo while I take care of miss Y/N?”

The girl shook her head, “No, I wanna help” 

Jimin put a couple of bottles of medicine on the bedside table and kneeled next to her, “I think you did everything you could, angel”

Even at her young age, Jia already showed herself to be a caring, empathetic person who knew how to follow rules. Jimin was so proud!

“I’m gonna give her the medicine and meet you in the living room in a little bit. Sounds good?”

“Yeah but Bo and I can stay”

She is so cute! he smiled to himself.

“I know, I’ll take it from here though, thank you”

“Okay” Jia jumped off the bed, “Let’s go, Bo!”

The dog followed with no hesitation and Jimin walked around to the other side to double-check the towels. Damn, they are still warm. Y/N needs to wake up so she can take the medicine in order to bring the fever down — he didn't even need a thermometer to know that she was close to 100 degrees.

“Y/N?” Jimin squeezed her hand, “Y/N, it’s Jimin”

She didn’t move.

He squeezed again, this time his thumb gently rubbing her knuckles, “Y/N?”

Finally a grunt! Thank God, he closed his eyes in relief.

“That’s it…” Jimin then removed the towels with his free hand, putting them on the floor, “Can you hear me?” he wiped her face with a fresh dry one.

Y/N grunts louder, trying to move.

“I’ll take that as a yes” he reached for the Tylenol, “You have a fever, okay? I need you to open your mouth a little bit for me”

“What?” she mumbled.

“Open your mouth, Y/N”

Y/N was very drowsy, like she had taken some heavy sleeping pills. She felt unbelievably tired and didn't understand what was happening or where she was. Opening her mouth was a struggle. Her eyes though? Even more so.

As soon as Jimin sprinkled a few drops of the remedy, Y/N's immediate reaction was to make a hilarious disgusted expression.

“Why are you making that face? It’s Tylenol for kids” he giggled, still worried, “Supposedly tastes like strawberry”

“What time is it?” Y/N's voice was hoarse. If only Jimin knew the amount of effort she had made to get her voice out with a dry throat.

“5:34”

She muttered something back.

“Sorry, what?”

“I-I’m sleepy”

“It’s the fever” he tucked her in, just like he used to do with Jia every night, “I’m changing your towels and then be back to check on you. Rest”

In the kitchen, clutching the towels tightly between his hands, Jimin took a moment to control his shaky breathing. He didn't want to lose his composure in front of his daughter but she seemed to be handling this situation better than he was. 

Y/N would be okay. They were all okay. It was just a scare. If everything kept going well, in the next few hours the medicine would kick in...he just had to wait. He hated to wait. Waiting usually meant bad news. 

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“Jia, the ramen is ready!” Jimin called, placing the hot pot on the table, “Be careful”

Once he changed Y/N’s towels and tidied up the bedroom, Jimin played with Jia for a while and headed to the kitchen to cook dinner. Ramen seemed like an easy and fast choice.

“Bo is hungry too, dad” she climbed on the chair.

The dog sat and stared at Jimin, patiently waiting with his tongue out.

“Oh, right” Jimin turned to look for the bowl of food he prepared minutes before, placing next to Jia's chair, “And that’s for you buddy”

“Listen angel,” Jimin began, serving her a portion, “I think we might need to stay overnight to keep a close look on miss Y/N. Is that okay with you?”

Jia nodded, “Can I sleep with Bo?”

“Yes” Jimin chuckled, handing her the ramen, “I’m gonna get your stuff and be right back. Be sure to finish your plate” 

Jimin glanced down at Bo, hands on his hips, “You too!”

Jia was almost done eating when Y/N finally awakened in her room, feeling better but still a little disoriented. The drowsiness had worn off, thankfully. 

Once Y/N sat up and noticed it was 8:22 pm she got startled. On her bedside table there were some meds, water, and the humidifier on. A quick flashback indicated that Jimin had been around, but maybe she dreamt the whole thing because Jimin couldn't get into her apartment, it didn't make sense. 

Wait, where's Bo?

“Bo?” she called him, “Bo, where are you?”

The dog came running in, happy to hear his owner’s voice and jumped on the bed licking Y/N's face.

“Hi! Hello!”

“Miss Y/N?”

Surprised to hear a child's voice, Y/N stopped playing with Bo and looked in the direction the sound was coming from.

“Jia?”

The little girl was by the door and stepped timidly into the bedroom, “You slept a lot today. Daddy said you had a fever”

“Oh, he did?” Y/N realized she hadn’t dreamed after all, Jimin was in fact here taking care of her. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that just yet.

“I had one too” Jia approached the bed, “But he took care of me and now we are taking care of you”

Y/N was overwhelmed and grateful. She gave Jia a genuine smile as she tapped the mattress twice, inviting the girl to sit next to her.

“Dad, me, and Bo too!” she climbs on the bed.

“Thank you so much, sweetie” Y/N strokes Jia’s hair, playing with her bangs and leaving a pop on the nose, “And you too Mr. Bo, thank you” she planted a kiss on the dog’s head.

“Where is your dad?”

“He went home to get some stuff” Jia said before hearing the front door being closed, “He’s here!” she hopped off the bed and ran to the living room.

“Dad, dad, dad… miss Y/N is awake!!” she grabbed Jimin’s hand and started pulling, “Come, quick!”

He didn't even have time to unload what he brought, because before he knew it his daughter had dragged him into the bedroom. Y/N was sitting on the bed with a confused look and rosy cheeks, trying to fix her hair.

“Hi” she said.

Jimin smiled back relieved, “Hi”

They looked into each other's eyes for what felt like minutes, not knowing what to say next. 

Y/N couldn’t believe Jimin was in front of her and did all of this to make sure she was okay.

Jimin, who for the past few hours could only think of the worst scenario possible, upon seeing Y/N awake and smiling felt something inside his chest expand.

Without breaking eye contact with Y/N, Jimin handed his daughter's backpack, “Jia, take your things to the guest room, please”

“Okay,” she hugged the backpack and looked back, "come Bo. I need help.” The dog promptly followed her.

“They’re best friends already” Y/N giggled.

Jimin didn't even hear what Y/N said, he was lost in his own thoughts, thankful to see her able to speak whole sentences. She didn't seem to be feeling any pain, the smile on her face, though faint, showed that everything would be okay.

Unlike a few hours ago, Y/N was now awake, alert, and appearing healthier. Jimin thought she looked good even under the weather; eyes still a little swollen from sleeping, hair in waves framing her face. Y/N was effortlessly beautiful.

“How are you feeling?” he sat beside her, instinctively putting his hand on her forehead to check the temperature.

Jimin's touch was warm and inviting, delicate and firm at the same time. When their skins met, Y/N felt small shock waves invade her body, running through every inch as goosebumps. She slowly looked up at his hand, and then into his eyes, making sure that this was not another fever hallucination, “I’m fine”

Jimin moved his hand to Y/N's cheek, closely watching her face for any sign of discomfort, feeling that her soft skin under his palm was now no longer as warm as before.

“The fever is coming down” he said in a whisper.

Jimin's voice was like honey and Y/N surrendered to the sensation of having him so near, quickly closing her eyes to enjoy his touch; his fingers tangled in her hair, his thumb lightly brushing her temple.

“I’m feeling a bit weird” she said, not knowing if she was starting to get hungry or was the medicine losing its effects.

Jimin thought she said that because of how he was touching her so he pulled his hand back and blushed, cursing himself for being too bold.

Y/N opened her eyes, feeling unexpectedly cold without his touch. Maybe it was another hallucination.

“How long have I slept?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve only been here for a few hours” Jimin pursed his lips, “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Taking a bath around noon and eating some soup”

Oh my god, noon? Jimin was stunned. Y/N needed help much sooner than he imagined. He shouldn't have waited until 5 to go back, he should have been suspicious the first time he knocked on the door. His gut told him that something was wrong and it was! How could he be so stupid and ignore it? 

Y/N could tell by the way Jimin stiffened his posture and looked away that he was mulling things over. She felt bad for worrying him so much.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Y/N smiled, “I’m okay Jimin”

“Right…” he replied, still going over scenarios in his head.

“Thanks to you”

Y/N emphasis on the last word made him look up.

“I mean it” she continued, “I don’t know how you got into my apartment but I’m so glad you did. I knew something was wrong but I couldn’t have guessed that I was getting into this feverous stage where I could barely stay awake” she chuckled, “I didn’t have any medicine and with the snowstorm I couldn’t go out and neither the delivery guy could come in”

Jimin’s doe eyes were full of worry, “You could have knocked on my door” 

“I realize that now but at the time I thought ‘oh, I'm just gonna lie down for a little while and wait for it to go away, maybe it's nothing’ but it obviously wasn’t nothing” Y/N looked down, again embarrassed for worrying him so much. 

When he didn’t reply, Y/N understood it as a sign that he was upset so she soon engaged in an apology.

“I’m sorry if I worried you” she reached for his hand, “That’s the last thing I wanted. I’m so used to being on my own that I seem to forget I can count on people for help”

Jimin squeezed her hand, “You can…” and paused to smile, “You absolutely can. You’re not alone”

Y/N nodded, cherishing Jimin's warmth once again. But before the heat could rise to her cheeks, the young woman decided to change the subject.

“I reeeeally need something to eat. But first I need a shower and fresh clothes” she announced, already moving to get out of bed.

“Whoa, slow down” Jimin got up, “Easy” he reached out his right arm to Y/N, “Let me help you”

“Jimin, I’m not invalid you know?” she pouted cutely.

“You look exactly like Jia when she says she’s old enough to do something”

Y/N accepted his help and held onto his arm as she stood up, “I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you very much” 

Jimin laughed out loud.

“See? Much better when teeth are showing!”

“What?” he muttered, watching Y/N fix her hair in a ponytail.

“I like it better when you smile” she replied, “You looked so serious before”

“Oh, it’s just that I couldn’t help but replay the image of finding you here. That’s all”

“I’m really sorry” Y/N bit her lip.

“Don’t!” Jimin smiled again, “Look, see? I’m smiling!” he pointed at himself, trying to be funny, “Not worried anymore”

“Perfect” she chuckled and patted his shoulder, “Now if you’ll excuse me…”

“Right, yeah” Jimin headed for the door, “If you need anything, shout” he added, to which Y/N replied with a smile and a nod before disappearing into the bathroom.

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Following her long-needed shower, Y/N went to the kitchen and found Jimin grilling some stake while Jia slept peacefully on the couch with Bo.

"Smells so good in here!" she sat on the island stool.

"I'm almost done with the hanwoo beef" Jimin said, "There's ramen over there. I heated up for you" he pointed to the dinner table.

"Oh wow, you really didn't have to, thank you"

Jimin turned around with a shy smile on his face and assembled Y/N's plate, adding the beautiful piece of meat, followed by some vegetables and a tiny side bowl of kimchi.

“Here you go”

“Thank you for the meal” Y/N bowed her head and grabbed the plate to move to the table, but while she did that she realized Jimin had no plate of his own. “Wait, what about you?”

"First I'm going to take Jia to the guest room” he handed her the chopsticks, “I'll be right back. Eat before it gets cold”

Now that Y/N wasn't delirious because of the fever or high on her meds she wondered what this whole day meant. Were she and Jimin friends? Just good neighbors? Neighbors wouldn't do what he did for her, right? What she was absolutely sure of was that the crush she had on Jimin had grown into real feelings, and as much as she wanted to act on it, she didn't quite know how to verbalize it to him. Y/N felt guilty, once again, for liking a stranger so soon, whose marital status was still unknown.

"It's delicious, Jimin, thank you so much" she complimented him as soon as he walked back into the kitchen.

"I don't want to brag, but it's kind of my specialty" he joked, assembling a plate for himself.

“I can see why” she took another bite.

Jimin was glad to see Y/N eating with such an appetite, and in the silent minutes that followed as the two of them ate, he wondered if she was genuinely feeling better, if she needed anything else, or if she would mind him and Jia spending the night. 

Maybe tomorrow he could try to talk to her about everything. About the party, about today… about himself, because he knew his situation was very confusing and Y/N was trying hard to be respectful of his privacy, so she ultimately deserved clear answers.

Jimin got up first to put the plate in the sink and Y/N came in right behind, already eager to do the dishes as 'thank you'.

“No no no” he gently pushed her away from the sink, “Go back” he waved his hand and Y/N took two steps back, “Yes, thank you, reverse, moonwalk”

Y/N laughed. Again. Recently, all she did was laugh. Jimin made her happy. His sense of humor was witty and she often thought of what to say to him to make him feel the same way. She wanted to make him truly laugh because something inside her said that Jimin needed it. But before she could do that, she had to put an end to the uncertainty once and for all. 

“Listen, I wanna ask you something but I don’t how to”

Jimin turned his head, still washing the dishes, “Pretend I’m a child and do it in the simplest way possible” he smiled and turned back to his chore, “That’s what I try to do with Jia at least”

“Okay...hm…” Y/N paused and studied her following words because not only she wouldn't be able to take them back, the answer itself would change everything. 

“Are you married?”

Jimin stopped washing the dishes immediately, the only noise that could be heard in the kitchen was the faucet running. 

Y/N gulped.

This is not how he was planning on telling her about Sunny, but he couldn't run away from the truth; it's definitely strange for a man to raise a little girl alone, without a mother around so of course Y/N had questions.

Jimin sighed. Today, tomorrow, next week. What’s the difference?

“No” he started washing the dishes again, “I’m a widower”

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A/N: hello dear reader! tkysm for reading chapter 6, i hope you liked it. it was a challenge to write, but i am very thrilled with the result  ❤️ unfortunately due to personal reasons, i will be putting this story on hiatus for a little while. i hope you understand and wait for me. with love, bella xx

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𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 ❤ 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝗲 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗹𝘆 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝘀𝗸! 𝗶 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆

[bqstqnbruin]

I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make you cry

All I’m gonna say before this is 😈😈😈

Read the whole series:  I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair // I hate the way you drive my car // I hate it when you stare // I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind // I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme // I hate the way you’re always right // I hate it when you lie // I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry // I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call // But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

Flashbacks are in italics

____________________________

“Why do you think?”

“Come on. Tell me.” 

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

Your first night in Calgary was supposed to be spent unpacking yours and Evelina’s new apartment, having spent the entire day lugging boxes and furniture up and down the stairs, not wanting to constantly hog the elevator with your endeavors. You were both exhausted, but apparently she wasn’t exhausted enough to not insist you go and explore your new home.

“Come on!” she whines, practically ripping your arm out of your body in an effort to pull you off the couch, “You know that you want to go wander around! Why can’t we just do it tonight, we’ve spent all day in this building anyway.” 

“Ev, we are gross, and we are tired. We shouldn’t go out,” you tried to counter, even though you knew she was going to eventually wear you down into going out.

“How are we going to make friends! We can’t go into work on Monday only knowing each other!” 

“I love you, too, Ev.” She got up off the couch, her hands clasping under her chin as she juts out her bottom lip. She was right, though: you knew no one in the city and probably should make some sort of effort to change that before you start your new jobs. “Fine. But this doesn’t mean I have to have fun, and we aren’t staying out past midnight.” Evelina starts bouncing up and down in excitement, dragging you to her room so you can start to get ready. “And we have to stay in either tomorrow or Sunday and seriously get to unpacking.”

Both of you start rummaging through the boxes, tearing them open in hopes that one of them will contain clothing that you can wear to go out. “How am I this unorganized?” Evelina asks, tearing open what she thought to be her tenth box, none of them having clothing.

“I don’t think you want an honest answer from me,” you laugh, resulting in her throwing a pillow at your head. “Ok, hey!” you say, throwing it back. “I have my clothes in a few suitcases. Should we raid those and see if we can find anything?” 

She laughs, opening another box, “Y/N, I love you, but you have nothing that we would be able to wear out. Your clothes are either business or athletic, and there’s no in between.” 

“I’m sure we can find something,” you mumble, knowing she was right. 

“No need! I found some clothes!” she said, dumping the box out on her bed. She thrrew a shirt at you, telling you that you were wearing it or else you would be doing all the unpacking yourself. Shooing you off to go clean up, she shuts you out of her room, left in the hallway surrounded by a bunch of boxes.

It’s not that the move was hard, but it definitely didn’t go as you had expected. You and Evelina were both excited for the fresh start, a new group of friends, a new city where no one knew you. Where you wouldn’t let anyone hurt you. 

You were always ready much faster than Evelina, so you decided to start unpacking bits and pieces of your room. You open the box labeled ‘decorations’ figuring you could at least try to start to see where you might hang things up. On top in the box is the one picture you didn’t want to see: the picture of you, Evelina, and Thomas on the day before the spring semester of finals your freshman year. The three of you were sitting at a picnic table on campus, surrounded by your textbooks and notes, mid laugh at something Evelina had said, none of you knowing the picture was being taken. You had known him since you were little, the days of learning to swim at the community pool when you were toddlers being some of your only memories from that time. The school dances you brought each other to as dates instead of stressing about having to ask and possibly get rejected by whoever it was that you liked at the time. The nights in college where you would watch movies with each other and fall asleep with the movie running, Evelina coming home and finding the two of you on the couch with the tv on, all of you going to the diner the next morning. 

He was your other best friend besides Evelina. He knew everything about you, probably more about you than Evelina did, probably more than you even knew about yourself. He was also in love with you without you feeling the same. The night you found out you and Evelina were moving, he told you that, begging you not to go and stay there with him. You told him you couldn’t and you haven’t talked to him since. 

You didn’t know that you had packed it, you thought you left it in your closet back at your parents house. Evelina knocked on your door, letting herself in before you could hide the picture, “Hey, are you ready?” She sees you staring at the picture, tears threatening to fall as you think about the move that cost you your best friend. “Thomas?” You nod, shoving the picture in your desk, hoping that you would be able to look back at it one day. “That’s not going to happen again,” she tries to reassure you, pulling you out the door. “How many girls have their best friend fall in love with them twice?” 

Evelina finds a bar down the street from where you live, walking there instead of paying for an Uber, thankful that you were able to take your mind off Thomas. And Evelina was right, wasn’t she? How many girls' best friends fall in love with them to begin with? So what are the chances of that happening twice?

You get to the bar, taking in the scene around you; a group of guys sitting in the back, some college girls trying and failing to get their attention, some other groups of people, everyone in packs except for you and Evelina. “We could go talk to them,” she says, trying to drag you over to the group of guys. 

“No, come on,” you say, trying to resist her pull. Those guys were attractive and there was no way you were about to go up to them and just start talking to them like she wanted you to. 

“Come on,” she says, ignoring your protest and dragging you in front of the guys, “Hey, I’m Evelina, this is Y/N,” she starts, “We just moved to the city and don’t know anyone.” 

You hated how bold she could be some time, but were at least thankful they made room for two strangers to join them instead of you having to stand awkwardly in the corner, Evelina diving into the conversation with the rest of the group.

The boy next to you didn’t seem to be paying attention to her, just like you weren’t. There was something about him that you couldn’t take your eyes off him, his curly hair, the blue eyes, the stupid grin that was on his face. Whatever it was you saw in him, he found something about you that he couldn’t stop staring at. “I’m Matthew,” he whispers. You smile at him, the guys laughing and bringing your attention right back to the group. 

“You don’t know who we are?” Elias asks Evelina, the rest of the guys looking just as shocked as he was.

“You count on us watching or following sports, so no.” 

Matthew turns to you, seemingly ignoring the rest of the guys. “You know nothing about sports?” 

“Well,” you start, feeling your face getting red. He was close to you, definitely trying to hit on you, but for some reason, it didn’t bother you like it would with other guys. “I know about hockey, a little bit about baseball, and then my dad is weirdly into the NFL so Sundays were spent with lots of yelling at his team, but I don’t have a team that I follow.” 

The guys laugh around you, sucked into whatever it was Evelina was going on about. “Why don’t we get a drink?” Matthew suggests, getting up before you can say anything. He holds out his hand to you, taking you and dragging you to the bar. “So what do you know about hockey?” he asks you, sitting down on the stool as you took the one next to him, leaning against the bar as he orders something for both of you. You couldn’t tell if the muscle in his arm was popping out because he was flexing on purpose or because he couldn’t help it, but you were surprised his shirt wasn’t ripping at the seams the way it was being filled.

“You don’t want that,” you shake your head, suddenly a little embarrassed, “I just start rambling and it’s never good.” 

He laughs, his eyes closing as his smile grew, forcing a smile on your face because of how infectious it was, “Two things will happen: I either zone out while you’re doing something that might make you happy, or I learn something while you’re doing something that might make you happy.” You hesitate, debating on if you should really tell him anything as the bartender brings the drinks he ordered you. “Come on.”

You roll your eyes, smiling at him as you raise your glass to toast to him. “You’re asking for this, Matthew.” 

You dive into what you knew about hockey, knowing enough about the history of the sport no matter how dry it was, knowing some of the basic rules even though he had to explain what counts as goalie interference to you, though he didn’t seem to know himself. The last person who listened to you ramble like this was Thomas. You finish telling him, a wave of sadness washing over you at the thought of him. You bite your lip, looking down at your drink.

Matthew reached over to you, his thumb and forefinger tilting your head back up to him. He looked worried at the sudden change that came over you. “What’s up?”

You shake your head, scrunching your face as a signal that you didn’t really want to talk about it. But for some reason, with him, you felt you could. “Just kinda reminded of someone there.”

He studied your face, trying to get a read on what type of someone you meant. “A boyfriend?”

“No,” you laughed, a sense of relief falling on Matthew, “My best friend. Or, ex-best friend, now, I guess.” 

“Well whoever they are, they’ve just been replaced.” You looked at him, confused. Before you could ask him what he meant, he started, “I’m your new best friend now. And you can’t tell me otherwise.” 

You can’t help but laugh, forgetting about Thomas for a moment. “I think you’ll have to fight Evelina on that one.”

The guys and Evelina sat back at the booth watching the two of you talk with each other the rest of the night. Evelina couldn’t remember the last time she had seen you so animated, so happy to be in an unfamiliar situation. 

“I think someone’s in love,” Elias took her attention away from you and Matthew.

“Y/N? No. She doesn’t let herself fall in love that easy. The last guy she dated I don’t think she said she loved him until they had been together for a year.”

“No, not Y/N,” Elias said, the rest of the guys nodding in agreement. “Matty there.”

Evelina scoffs. “No way.” 

They watched as the two of you laughed so hard you could barely breathe, Matthew not taking his eyes off you even though you were pretty much doubled over. “Trust us. We could make a list of the ways we can tell that one is in love. And he’s doing all of them.”

--------------- 

“What are you talking about, ‘the list?’” you try to play it off as if you didn’t know what he meant.

“I know all about that list you were making with the reasons you hate me. I saw it in your kitchen on the fridge when I was over,” he lies, not wanting to drag Evelina into this. 

“So what? You’ve known? And what have you been trying to do?” 

“I don’t know, trying to convince you that you don’t hate me! Trying to make you forget about that list,” he yells, people around you stopping to stare at the scene you were causing there on the sidewalk. “You know you don’t hate me,” he whispers, take a step towards you.  

“You don’t get to decide that Matthew.” 

“What can I decide? Because if it were up to me then we would have been together after the night we met. It wouldn’t have taken this fucking long for you to get your head out of your ass to see what we have.” 

You take a step back at the bite in his word, feeling the tears fall down your cheeks, your mind running rampant trying to figure out what all this meant. His words stung; you thought he was wrong. You thought everyone was wrong. There was no way this had all been there since you met him the night you moved to the city. “This has not been here since the day we met. That isn’t true.”

“You can’t tell me how I felt about you then, and you can’t tell me how I feel about you now. The one thing I have wanted since the day we met is to be with you,” he tells you, trying to fight back the tears, “And to find out that you were trying to deny that by thinking or stupid ways that you hate me? The way I cut my hair? My driving? You don’t even hate me enough to think of real reasons.” 

You can’t find the words to say, pushing past him and heading down the street. You couldn’t take this. He was never supposed to find out about the list. You knew that you were overreacting, but he had no right to know about that. He had no right to spit that back in your face like he was. 

“No, no, no,” you hear him say, Matthew stepping in front of you. “Look at me,” he says, his hands on your shoulders, shaking you. “How are you the one who’s mad here? You have no right to be mad at me for this.”

You look at him, swallowing hard. “I don’t? Now you don’t have the right to tell me how I feel. I gave you all of me, Matthew. You’re the only person I would ever let get that close to me. And to find out that you’ve been lying to me this entire time? You know what happened with Thomas.”

“Y/N, listen to me,” he starts, trying to get closer to you.

“No! Matthew, no,” you say, stepping away from him. “Whatever the fuck this was? It’s done.” You let out a sob, pushing past him and running down the street back towards your apartment, Matthew calling your name, watching you run away from him. 

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, chasing after you. You were both aware of how this looked, two people running down the street, the one leading in tears while the one trailing was on the brink. “Can you please just hear me out?” he asks, catching up to you. “I saw this list and I panicked. How would you like it if I started listing all the ways I hated you and used those for reasons to not want to be with you?”

“You have reasons you hate me?” you say, not wanting to look at him.

He groans, running his hands through his hair and down to his face. “Of course I don’t. There is nothing that I could think of that you do that would make me hate you. But fuck, Y/N. Ten reasons you hate me? You know how I feel about you. You know that you don’t hate me. So why are you doing this?” 

You knew he was right, crying at the fact that you went along with Evelina’s stupid bet. But that didn’t matter to you. “Because I didn’t want to date you.”

His Adam’s apple bobs up and down, his jaw clenched, clearly hurt by your words. “Then what is this? What have we been doing?” 

“Nothing. You’re nothing more to me than my friend,” you lie, pushing past him. You knew he was going to follow you, no matter how much you didn’t want him to. This was just a stupid mistake. That’s all it was. This is exactly what you were afraid of happening when Evelina first brought it up and when Thomas had told you his feelings. You were going to lose him. 

You get to your apartment, locking the door behind you. You press your back against the wall next to the door, sliding down and bringing your knees to your chest. This was just like with Thomas. This was worse than what happened with Thomas. You were reliving what was the worst day of your life, except now it was with another guy. 

----------

“You guys are moving to Calgary?” Thomas asked you, sitting down on your bed. You had texted him that night to tell him you had to talk to him, him rushing over as soon as he could. “Why are you going there? You aren’t going to know anyone.”

“Well, we’ll make friends. We got these amazing job offers out there, Thomas, we can’t turn them down.” He won’t look at you, staring down at his hands with his eyebrows scrunched together. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Don’t go,” he let out, looking up at you. His eyes were shining, filled with tears that were begging to fall.

“What? No, I can’t do that. Evelina already found an apartment for us out there. We’ve already accepted the jobs.” 

“Don’t go,” he said again, still not looking at you. 

“Why?”

He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. “I’m in love with you. I always have been. You can’t leave.”

“Thomas,” you let out, trying to process what he just told you. “You-you’re my best friend, you can’t be in love with me,” you stammer out, trying not to panic even though you were doing a horrible job at hiding it. 

“You don’t love me, do you?” he asked, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

“I don’t think I love you the same way you love me.” 

He nodded, running his tongue along his teeth. “Awesome,” he laughs, pain in his voice. “Have fun in Calgary,” He got up, leaving you there on your bed as you tried to figure out what just happened.

“Thomas, wait!” you called after him, stopping him before he can open your door. “Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving. I can’t be friends with someone when I love them. Especially when they don’t love me back,” he said, pushing past you. 

You stood in the doorway shocked at what just happened. The tears were falling down your face as you watched your best friend walk down the hallway, the last time you would see him. 

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

You pull yourself up off the floor, heading to the kitchen to get some water. There was no way this was happening to you again. You couldn’t be losing yet another guy because he thought he was in love with you.

At least last time, you didn’t have the same feelings for him. You didn’t even know how you felt about Matthew. He’s your best friend, the guy you go to for everything, the one you spend all your time with. You can act however you want around him, say whatever you want to him. He’s the perfect guy for you.

Except that he’s been lying to you this entire time.

You hear the door unlock, hoping that it was Evelina. Whoever it was slammed the door, going towards the bedrooms. “Fuck,” you hear him mutter, freezing at his voice. 

You knew he would follow you here. “Matthew?” you call, trying to figure out where he was in your home. “Matthew, get out.” 

“No. We need to talk about this,” he yells from your room, trying to follow your voice. It wasn’t like your apartment was that big that he wouldn’t be able to find you in the kitchen. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this tonight. I want to be with you. Only you. I want you to be my girlfriend.” He finally finds you, slowly walking up to you as if he were afraid you would run from him. “Why don’t you want to be with me?”

You let out a sob, looking away from him. You knew he was hurt over this; you were too. “It’s gonna ruin everything.”

“That’s not a given. This could be so great. This already was so great.” You both stand there in silence, not sure what to say. “Do you want me to be your boyfriend?” 

Did you? He made you so happy. There was no guy that you would rather be with. But he’s Matthew. He came into your life as soon as Thomas left, filling that hole that you left at home when you moved to Calgary. He was supposed to just be like Thomas, just be your best friend and nothing more. 

He slowly lifts his hand to your cheek, the pad of his thumb whipping away the tears on your cheek. “I hate to see you cry like this, but Y/N, I need to know: what am I to you?”

“You’re just my best friend,” you tell him, his hand falling from your cheek. “You need to go Matthew. I don’t want to see you right now.”

“Y/N, come on.” 

“Matthew, she said leave,” you hear from the door way. You both snap your attention to Evelina standing there, keys still in hand, your bag on her arm.

“Ev, you can’t be serious,” Matthew says, walking towards her.

“Out! Now!” she yells, both of you jumping at the sudden change in her tone. He looks back and forth between you and your roommate, panic washing over him. This couldn’t be happening to you two. “Do I have to fucking drag you out, Tkachuk?” 

He finally leaves, Evelina rushing over to hug you as you crumbled in her arms, watching Matthew leave your apartment.

[obsidianfr3sk]

true colors

@renegadesnet event 10: pride

↪ [ “But everything was temporary. And pain was one of those things. Well, except love. Everything but love was temporary. Or that was what he liked to believe.” ]

Summary: Two years after the supernova, after Tamaya notified them the gearboxes that contained the lights had gotten soaked and that she needed the money to buy more before the next day (June 1st), Simon realized they were not enough for him anymore. 

Simon wanted a bigger flag. 

No. He wanted two. The biggest pride flags he could find.

AO3

Hello, friends!! I hope you’ve been having an excellent pride month and have been eating a lot rainbow cake and pissing off a lot of conservatives with the mere fact of your wonderful existence:’) As my contribution to this month and the event organized by @renegadesnet, I decided to write a fic focused on my favorite gay dads and their sons (bc I’m me, and you should have seen this coming.) 

Before you read, I want to give a trigger warning: at the start of a fic I talk about a homophobic attack, which is not graphic or violent per se (it’s someone in the middle of the night taking away the flag they put outiside the house), and I do discuss about internalized homophobia during some parts of the story. If you read it and are sensitive to this kind of stuff, proceed with caution and take care of yourself <3

Also, this entry is a collaboration with my talented mother @healing-winston-pratt, who is going to be uploading some fanart of this in a near future, so keep an eye on that👀 she’s the best skjhkjds thank you for accepting to collaborate, I feel this is a great bonding activity and I hope we can do this more often✨

I need to update my tag list because a lot of the people who were included are not active as active as they were before/changed their URLs. But I’m going to tag @the-wee-woo-rita @lackadae @all-weather-is-bad @chiyuki-hiro bc you guys are the only ones who are still active users who I had on my previous tag list lol

With that said, I hope you enjoy this fic. I think that despite the angsty parts, it came out really fluffy and domestic, it was fun to write. And to all my queer silbings who are reading this: I am very proud of you.  

But I see your true colors shining through.

I see your true colors, and that's why I love you.

So don't be afraid to let them show.

Your true colors,

true colors are beautiful like a rainbow

Simon couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t know he was gay.

There was a time when he didn’t know he was gay, of course. He was probably too young to even comprehend the meaning behind that word. And there was also a moment in his life when he felt embarrassed about it, and sad, and angry, and really, really scared, and probably thought that no matter how hard he tried, he was never going to be happy living the life he wanted to live.

That the pain was never going to end. That he was going to be miserable for the rest of his existence, and that maybe, there was no point in existing if he was going to stay like that until the day he died.

But everything was temporary. And pain was one of those things.

Well, except love. Everything but love was temporary. Or that was what he liked to believe.

That was the reason why, the first year after the Day of Triumph, he told Hugh they should get a rainbow flag for their house. They went to one of the first stores that opened at the mall (that had just been remodeled after twenty years of being abandoned) and bought one at a not so affordable price. Simon offered himself to install it on one of the fence pillars and had to spend thirty minutes listening to Hugh telling him that maybe he should let him do it, that the ladder Kasumi had lent them was ratty, and that Simon was going to fall.

Fortunately, Simon didn’t. He did almost fall, though, when he was about to pass out from stress because seeing Hugh getting all anxious, made Adrian cry and he started to basically beg him to come down, given that now he was convinced he was going to fall, and hearing his dad saying “Look what you’ve done to the kid, Simon” didn’t help at all to make Adrian (or Simon) feel better.

That night, there was a thunderstorm and Adrian used it as an excuse to sleep on their bed. As soon as he cried himself to sleep, two hours later, after their dads did everything in their power to calm him down, hugging him, giving him kisses, and assuring him his aunt Tamaya wasn’t going to let the storm hurt them, Simon raised his hand to high-five Hugh and tell him that they were amazing parents, just to realize he was already asleep. Simon silently judged him for sleeping so soundly while his son was having a crisis instead of sleeping.

When he woke up (at five in the morning) Adrian was looking out their window, with the Baby Indomitable blanket on his shoulders. The sky was still cloudy, but it wasn’t raining anymore.

“Darling, what are you doing?,” Simon told him. “Today’s Sunday. Let your daddy and I get some more sleep—”

“The storm took our flag,” Adrian blurred out.

Hugh was already awake too. “What?”

“You said the storm wasn’t going to hurt us,” Adrian said, turning around to see them, “but the storm took our flag.”

Simon got out of bed, looked through the window...

And, yes, the flag was completely gone.

But for some reason, Simon knew it hadn’t been the storm.

“Why would the storm do something like this?” Adrian asked.

Simon didn’t know how to answer that. Luckily, Hugh did.

“Because the storm is homophobic, son.”

Adrian laughed out loud and then asked his dads if they could have pancakes for breakfast. He had already forgotten about the storm and the flag.

They didn’t. Neither of them ever forgot about it.

While Simon and Adrian ate their pancakes, Hugh went to his office because, according to him, he needed to check something. When Adrian finished his breakfast and went back to his dads’ room to watch TV, Simon stayed in the kitchen, doing the dishes, and Hugh finally came downstairs. He was pretty quiet, and Simon thought that it probably was because he had told him to eat the burnt pancakes he didn’t dare to throw away, but after he finished them all, he said:

“I lied.”

Simon threw a glance at him. “When did you lie?”

“When I said the storm was homophobic,” Hugh answered.

“Well, of course, you lied, love. Storms don’t have strong political opinions about gay people.”

Hugh didn’t laugh. “What I mean is— that it wasn’t the storm.”

Every joke Simon’s brain could come up with disappeared at that moment. So he continued doing the dishes, and Hugh, thinking he hadn’t made himself clear, continued talking.

“It was someone else. It was a person. I saw them on—”

“I know,” Simon interrupted him. “I know. I’ve always known.”

But even if Simon knew, he still told Hugh to show him the footage because four eyes were better than two (especially considering that the owner of those first two eyes needed to wear glasses). It was all useless, though; the storm made the image all blurry, and the only thing they could see was someone taking it and running away in the middle of the night.

Simon wanted to think that it was just some dumb teen whose friends had  challenged him to do it. But when it came to things like those one never really knew.

On Monday, they had promised Adrian to take him to the park that was a few blocks away so they could teach him how to fly a kite, but the thought of going out made him feel as if something bad was going to happen to them if they did, so Simon told Adrian that he and Hugh were feeling sick and that they would stay in their room to get some rest. Adrian asked them if they minded that he stayed there too because he was in the middle of watching a movie he had never seen before.

“Only if we can watch it with you,” Simon answered.

It was a weird day to be alive. They really just stayed there, watching silly cartoons with their kid and listening to him ranting about the weird proportions those characters had.

During the afternoon, Adrian told them he was hungry, so Simon went downstairs to look for something they could eat. He was thinking that maybe they should order something from that Chinese restaurant Tamaya had taken him the other day, when Hugh entered the kitchen and told him Adrian had  asked him if he could bring him water.

Simon felt his hands were trembling while he looked inside his wallet for the paper where he had written the restaurant’s phone number.

“Do you want to get another flag?” Hugh asked him.

And something hurt.

Something hurt inside of him. Something started to cry, and to scream, and to flicker, trying to make him invisible to the world.

And it told him, the same way Adrian had told him he was hungry, that someone had taken him by surprise and made a deep cut on his chest.

But Simon didn’t allow it to come out.

He just said: “No.”

And Hugh answered him: “Me neither.”

He called the Chinese restaurant to order some food, while Simon went to their room with Adrian again and cuddled with him, trying to tend to the wounds of that something that was bleeding out inside of him.

Little Simon was crying, and screaming, and flickering, and needed adult Simon to take care of him.

The next day, they talked about the incident with the rest of the Council during their lunch break. It was one of those few occasions the six of them were together in the same room during their work hours. Tamaya was furious about the flag situation. She ranted for a good five minutes without anyone interrupting her about how fucking horrible people were and that she was going to find that little piece of shit and cut his hands off. Kasumi nodded in approval while drinking some horchata she had bought for herself, probably thinking about how to ask Tamaya to let her join her revolution (something she didn’t need to do, since Tamaya always included Kasumi in everything she did). Evander, on the other hand, was very quiet, something that made him feel a little bit relieved because he was not a sensitive person and Simon didn’t want him to... Evander  the situation.

He didn’t say anything insensitive that day, though.

In fact, he said something… helpful, even.

“What about a flag made of light?” 

Hugh rubbed his eyes and Simon knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.

Because he said that phrase constantly.

“Shut the fuck up, Evander.”

But Evander didn’t shut up. “Dude, think about it. No one would be able to take down a flag made of light.”

And everyone realized that, now, it was not only one of those strange occasions when the six of them got together to have lunch during their work hours; it was also one of those strange occasions when Evander had an idea that was actually good.

So after spending another hour discussing how they were going to make it work, they decided they were going to lit up the building in rainbow-colored lights.

Tamaya and Hugh were the ones in charge of almost all the operation because Evander said he had already given them the idea, so he didn’t need to do anything else (and then got mad at Hugh when he told the media he was the one who came up with it). Kasumi helped them, but was especially insistent about putting a trans pride flag somewhere in the building, and after they agreed with her, she personally hung it on the main entrance of Headquarters.

They started turning the lights on each night of June since that yeat.

Hugh and Simon still didn’t get a flag. Three nights after they told their friends about what had happened during the thunderstorm, Simon was woken up by the sound of someone crashing against the trash cans and almost jumped out of the window with his dagger  on hand to slay whoever was trying to break into their house, but when he peeked out to see what was going on, he realized the “robber” was Kasumi, who had put a bunch of small pride flags on some pots they kept on their porch and started crying as soon as she realized Simon was watching her, not because she was upset the surprise she had for them had been ruined, but because now she was covered in trash.

(That week was like a sign Georgie was sending them from the afterlife to tell them they needed to install a better security system.)

Those were the only flags they kept around the house. They were small and discreet, and, most importantly, no one had taken them away. Why? Well— because they listened to Georgie’s sign and installed a better security system. Not because there weren’t any more homophobes out there who were willing to do it.

Until that moment, those flags (the little ones Kasumi had given them in a rather unconventional way and the one made of light that Evander had come up with) had been more than enough for them. But, two years after the supernova, after Tamaya notified them the gearboxes that contained the lights had gotten soaked and that she needed the money to buy more before the next day (June 1st), Simon realized they were not enough for him anymore.

Simon wanted a bigger flag.

No. He wanted two.

The biggest pride flags he could find.

 ***

That was the reason why, after having pancakes for breakfast (because it had rained during the night), he took the car, took the other three people living in that house with him, and after he was able to read the map, they arrived at a store that, among other things, sold flags like the ones they were looking for.

“I want one too,” Adrian told them when they were at the flag section of the store. “For my room, you know. And I want to get ones for Danna and Nova because I don’t think they have any. They would’ve told me.”

Usually, when Adrian asked for something Simon hadn’t agreed to buy him, like some candy, an action figure, or a pair of sneakers, he would turn around and ask him if he had the money to buy any of those things himself, which would anger him so much he would stop wanting that certain thing.

But that day, he felt like buying them everything they wanted. As if money grew on trees (something he always told his kids didn’t happen.)

“Of course, darling,” he answered, “get them everything you want. It’s pride month.”

“It’s May 31th,” Max said. He was inside the shopping cart Hugh had grabbed the second they entered. It was something he always did, even if they weren’t going to buy a lot of things because, according to him, it felt weird and wrong not to.

“It’s almost pride month,” he corrected himself.

“So can I get something for Nova?” Adrian asked again, just to make sure.

“You can get something for Nova,” Hugh assured him, smiling a little bit.

Adrian quickly turned around and started looking for the flag he wanted while texting Nova about something Simon couldn’t read (not like he was trying to, anyway).

After making sure Adrian stayed on the same aisle as them, they started walking around, gazing at the flags and posters available. Simon felt pretty progressive because he was able to name every single sexuality and gender they were supposed to represent. He imagined Hugh was doing the same thing, but with a lot more difficulty than him. He kept his eyes fixated on each flag longer than Simon did, as if he were trying to remember what they meant, and when he did, he pushed the cart (with Max still inside of it, playing a game on Hugh’s phone because he had forgotten his tablet at home), and the cycle began again.

But suddenly, Simon saw ones that he didn’t recognize.

After three seconds of standing in front of those little flags, someone hit him in the butt with their cart. He turned around immediately, ready to say a really threatening “Hey” to whoever had done it.

Hugh was the only other person who was there. He had been the one who had hit him with the cart.

Suddenly, Simon felt a little bit stupid for thinking someone else had done it.

The two of them maintained eye contact for a couple of seconds until Hugh started looking at his own hands grabbing the cart’s handle.

“Simon.” Before Simon could ask him what happened, he added, with a deep voice: “Move.”

Simon didn’t move. Instead, he hit the cart with his hips, just out of spite. Hugh hit him again with it, making Simon feel the unexpected need to grab the cart with his two hands and use his own weapon against him, but Max was there and they couldn’t act like kids in front of him. So he just hit the cart with his hips again, a little bit harder than the first time, and left it there.

He realized he was just going to be wasting his time asking Hugh if he knew what that flag was supposed to represent.

“Cherub,” he called Max. “Do you recognize this flag?”

Max looked up from the screen. He usually didn’t like it when he called him “cherub” in public, but this time, he didn’t seem mad about it. “Um… no? Ask Adrian—” and continued playing.

Adrian came back with a basket full of pins, and for a second, Simon almost asked him if he really was that naive to believe he was actually going to pay for all of them. But then, he realized that it was only the basket where they kept all of the pins they sold and that Adrian had taken it to show them to them.

“Look, they have so many pins here—” he started taking random pins “—this is the aromantic flag… this is the genderfluid flag—”

“Interesting,” Hugh interrupted him, “but which flag is that one?” and pointed at the one Simon didn’t recognize.

Max took a random pin from the basket and started looking at it with curiosity. Adrian almost didn’t pay attention to it, and after a few seconds, he said: “That one’s yours.”

Simon frowned and took one. It was a handheld flag with green and blue stripes, with a white one in the middle. He touched the polyester with his fingertips as if that was going to give him the ability to communicate with it.

“But we don’t have a flag,” Hugh told Adrian. “I’ve heard of the lesbian fl—”

Adrian took a pin of the lesbian flag. “This one.”

“Yeah— but gay men don’t have one.”

“The rainbow is ours,” Simon said, without taking his eyes away from the blue and green flag he was holding. “Like, it’s for all queer people.”

Hugh directed his attention to Adrian again. “You’re messing with us.”

“I do mess with you a lot,” Adrian admitted, “but this time I’m not because if I do and you get mad, you won’t buy me all the stuff I want to get.”

“Huh.”

Simon knew Adrian and Max were a lot of things, but "dumb" wasn't one of those. And Adrian was especially intelligent when it came to convincing his parents to buy him things.

So he decided to believe him.

“Well, I like it,” he said. Then, he asked Hugh: “Do you like it?”

Hugh grabbed one and observed it for a while. “I like that it has blue on it,” he finally answered, nodding a little bit.

Simon noticed Max was spacing out while playing with the pin he had taken, so he waved the flag on his face, making him laugh and sneeze because the damn thing had a lot of invisible dust Simon didn't notice at first.

“Oh, sh—”

“You know? Maybe we should get two of these,” Hugh said, waving it too, but in his case, not on the face of one of their kids. “For our offices.”

“Matching flags, very romantic.”

Max rubbed his nose. “Why don't you get a big one for the house?”

Simon quickly started to look everywhere on that aisle, and he saw a lot of big versions of the flags he had recognized before (and some of the ones Adrian had mentioned), but there were no gay flags in sight.

“Maybe next year, I guess,” he shrugged. “I don't think they have them here yet.”

He grabbed two of the rainbow flags that were there, inside their respective plastic bags, gave them to Max, and he put them on his lap, still holding that pin. Simon made a quick mental note to remind his future self they needed to pay for that (he didn’t know if it had to with the fact that Max had been spending a lot of time with Maggie, Nova’s sister, but he had developed this weird habit of stealing the most random objects one could think of. Luckily, he limited himself to stealing things from his dads and, one time, from a store.) (Kids went through weird phases when they were Max’s age.)

(Because… it was a phase, right?)

Adrian received a text. “Danna says that she already has a flag, so I’m getting her a pin,” he said after reading it. “And Nova says she wants one too.” Then, his whole face lit up. “And I could get one too so we match.”

“Copycat,” Simon accused him, jokingly. “Your dad and I got matching flags, and now you want to get matching pins with your girlfriend.”

Hugh shook his head, disappointed. “I cannot believe you have betrayed your own family like this.”

They stayed at the store another 30 minutes to buy some other things they needed for the house, and from time to time, when he or Hugh grabbed something, they pretended they didn’t see Adrian and said: “Um, but the copycat may be listening” to a point he told them to stop, and refused to forgive them until they agreed to buy him the flag he didn’t intend to get anymore, but now was going to.

He got the last bisexual flag there was at that store.

 ***

The first time the four of them were together in their room was last June. Something went wrong with the A/C system of the entire house and the only room where one could stay without having a heatstroke was theirs because their A/C hadn’t broken down for some reason. Adrian and Max were sleeping on the air mattress until Simon (who hadn’t been able to sleep lately) heard that one of them woke up and asked Hugh something. He sat down on the bed, at the same time Hugh moved a little bit to allow Adrian to lay down between the two of them.

Then, in the middle of the dark, his eyes met Max’s.

He looked tiny. Young. Pretty young.

And far away.

Simon couldn’t remember who did it. He didn’t remember who talked that night. It could have been him, even. But he was sure that, at that moment, someone whispered:

“Get in here, kid.”

And Max obeyed. He crawled, raised his arms towards them, and Hugh grabbed him carefully by the collar of his shirt and placed him between him and Adrian.

It was a peaceful night. The bed was big enough for the four of them, and Simon was able to sleep and actually rest for the first time in weeks.

At least until their A/C turned off with a weird sound, and the four of them woke up at the same time, sweaty, uncomfortable, and almost at 11 AM, not because they weren’t necessarily willing to stay there longer, but because the heat was starting to get unbearable and suddenly the bed was too small for three adults and a little kid that was not that little anymore.

“This isn’t a room, this is a— a freaking oven,” Hugh said, while Adrian tried to push him out of bed to get the hell out of there and seek comfort on the air mattress he had abandoned in the middle of the night.

“And we are the... cookies,” Max giggled.

“The turkey,” Simon added.

Max turned around. His whole face was red and his hair was a little bit wet. “The lasagna.”

Simon grabbed him by the cheeks; a discreet way to check if he had a fever. “The cake.”

“The ham.”

“The—”

“Dad. Move.”

Later that day, Simon called someone to fix the A/C, and that was the end of the story.

When they arrived at the house, Adrian wanted to hang his flag as soon as possible, on one of his room’s walls, but Simon insisted that they should iron it first so it looked nicer. Hugh said that he was planning on ironing the ones they had bought for the house and offered Adrian to do the same with his, but when he insinuated that he didn’t trust him enough not to mess up his flag the same way he had messed up his favorite shirt (the one he wanted to wear to take Nova to a nice place during her birthday), Hugh reminded him that the only reason he kept doing that for him was that Adrian didn’t know how to iron yet, and decided that he was going to use that moment as a teaching opportunity. Max made the mistake of laughing at his brother when he thought no one was paying attention to him, but Adrian was and dragged Max into the teaching opportunity with him.

Simon joined too. Just because.

And suddenly, the four of them were in their room again.

With the A/C on, of course.

He didn't know if Hugh had noticed, but he had been so invested in his own explanation, that after he finished ironing the two rainbow flags, he started ironing Adrian’s without realizing it. Adrian, instead of giving up and stop pretending he was paying attention, was looking, kind of mesmerized, how he opened the bag of his blue, purple, and magenta flag, and proceeded to put it on the ironing board, now telling him that when Georgie had tried to teach him how to iron his clothes, she accidentally burnt Evander.

Simon was half-listening to the story, half-listening to the music video that Max was watching on the TV. He was sitting on a big and old ottoman they had bought a long time ago but had never found the perfect place to put it and just stayed there for years until they forgot about it. Max was in front of him, sitting on the floor and resting his back on the ottoman, while he covered his blond hair with small butterfly hair clips he had found at the store and bought just because he thought they were cute (who knows, maybe Nova wanted them for Maggie, or Kasumi could use them for herself, she loved them when she was little).

When all the hair clips were on Max's hair, he took a small mirror they kept in the bathroom (but Simon borrowed it for a minute) and gave it to him so he could see the final result.

“Look at me,” Max exclaimed, laughing. “I look so pretty.”

Simon grabbed one of the hair clips and pulled it a little. “Butterfly hair clips are a popular trend this time of the year.”

“This is definitely going to make me the most popular kid in the playground.”

“Definitely.”

He leaned forward to start taking the butterfly hair clips off Max's hair and was putting them on Max’s open hand when he noticed that he hadn’t let go of the pin they bought him at the store.

(Simon did remember to pay for the thing, but if he hadn’t done it, Max wouldn’t have said anything.)

“That was really nice of you,” Simon said.

Max looked at him, confused. “What?”

“Getting a rainbow pin—” he took his other hand and started putting the hair clips on it so none of them would get lost “—to show support.”

Max didn't say anything and Simon continued with what he was doing. After the music video finished, and another one started playing, Hugh gave Adrian his flag and told him he could go and hang it in his room, and as soon as Max heard that too, he gave Simon the hair clips and followed his brother out of the room, asking him if he could help him with it.

Simon, after realizing the bag where the hair clips came in had been destroyed by Max punching holes in it with the pin, took one of the empty pill bottles he kept in his drawers and put them there.

He closed the pill bottle and realized Hugh had been gazing at him during all this time, slightly leaning on the ironing board. “What?”

“That’s my pill bottle, Si,” he told him.

“Ah—” Simon pressed his lips “—can I have it?”

“No.” Hugh smiled at him. “Yes, you can.”

“So funny. Come here—” and patted the bed mattress.

Hugh, being extremely careful not to touch the flags he just ironed, lied on the bed and sighed.

“Do you want me to play with your hair?” Simon asked him with a soft voice.

He closed his eyes and nodded.

After a while of the two of them just being silent, he said, “Hey… I heard what you told Max, by the way.”

“The butterfly hair clips trend?”

“The pin thing.”

“What about it?”

Hugh opened his eyes, just a little bit. “Just don't tell Max I told you, all right? Because he told me he wouldn't tell anyone else until he was sure, but… I think it's important the two of us know,” he explained.

Simon was starting to feel his palms get a little bit sweaty. “Okay— but just tell me, please.”

He checked overhearing their conversation one last time, and that the kids were still at Adrian's room. “Max told me a couple of days ago that he has been thinking about… what he likes.”

He stopped playing with his hair for a second. But then, he continued.

It was his way of coping with the feeling of his stomach twisting inside of him. “What he likes?” Hugh nodded again. “Huh. And has he— does he has an idea or—”

“No, he doesn't,” Hugh answered. “He just knows that he doesn't like girls. Or that's what he told me.”

Simon raised his eyebrows and scoffed. “That sounds like a lot of things. Not liking girls.”

Hugh scoffed too. “That's what I told him. And that he can take all the time he needs to figure it out. Because he can—”

“Yes. Yes, of course, he can,” Simon assured, with determination. “Life is longer than we think it is.”

They stayed silent again. And Simon couldn’t help but feel relive inside his head the moment he called Max an ally, feeling his stomach twisting even more at every second it passed.

“I feel bad.”

“Why?”

His palms started to sweat again. “Because I called him an ally.”

“It’s all right. You didn’t know.”

“I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”

“You didn’t know,” Hugh repeated.

But Simon didn’t listen. “Si.”

Then, Hugh grabbed him carefully by the wrist, and, a little bit surprised, Simon tilted his head. Hugh usually didn't interrupt him when he was playing with his hair.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“No, what’s wrong with you?” he deadpanned

Simon knew him well enough to know he wasn’t trying to be rude. It was just his way of asking things. Especially when he was genuinely worried and didn’t think about modulating his tone so it It fitted the situation better.

He sighed. Because he didn’t want to lie to him. “I assumed Max was straight.”

As soon as he said it, he realized how silly it had sounded phrased like that. But he also noticed his voice had broken and he had to put a hand on his mouth so he didn’t start crying.

And Hugh, instead of saying the encouraging phrase he expected him to say…

He smiled.

And for some reason, that made him want to cry even more. “Ew, why are you smiling?” he asked.

Hugh took his time to answer him. “Oh, it’s nothing.  I think I'm just… happy.”

“Well, I’m not.”

Hugh smiled more. “I know, love, I know… It's just one of those things…” he tried to find the right words this time. “One of those things I didn't think we were going to go through together,” he kept saying. “Like… we're going to be together when Max finally discovers who he really is. Like we did with Adrian. And like other people did with us. And that makes me happy.”

Simon wanted to tell him to shut up and let him cry and be dramatic as much as he wanted because he considered he deserved it. But he tried to do it, the only thing that could come out of his lips was almost imperceptible “Yeah…” and then, a small tear started running down his face. Hugh quickly noticed this and wiped it away with his finger. Simon scoffed and looked away, rubbing his nose.

“Hey…” and he moved aside so Simon could lay beside him.

The space they had was a little too small but he didn’t mind because now he had an excuse to be closer to him.

And there it was again. Little Simon. Little Simon was there again with them.

Just that this time he wasn’t crying, or screaming, or even flickering. He was just… existing.

And all he wanted to do was to exist.  

When Hugh held him that way, sometimes he felt as if it was the first time he did it. Which made Simon (and the sad, angry and scared part of Simon) wonder if there was a sad, angry and scared part of Hugh that also craved that comfort and validation, and if it was the one who hugged that younger version of Simon until they convinced each other that everything was fine.

That there was nothing wrong with neither of them.

Because sometimes it was as if people didn’t remind them that as many times as they needed. So the only option they had was to be there for the other, and tell him that it was okay to hug, to kiss, to touch, and to share until the one who was talking ended up convincing both of them.

Love wasn’t temporary.

And their love was as powerful as they wanted it to be.

Those younger versions of themselves wanted to stay like that forever every single time. But their adult versions knew they couldn’t do it because they had other responsibilities that they needed to attend.

Installing those two pride flags that were next to them, for example.

Their younger versions were excited to do that, but they also asked them if they could rest together a little bit longer. And neither of them had the heart to tell them no.

Hugh started to play with a lock of Simon’s hair. “We’ll be there to catch him.”

He knew he wasn’t talking about either of them. Even if, with his eyes closed, he could see little Hugh and little Simon holding each other’s hands and throwing themselves into the world, a little less sad, and angry, and scared than before, without being sure if there was going to be someone down there to catch them if everything went wrong.

“Together.”

And Simon agreed. “Together.”

 ***

“He’s going to fall.”

Simon rolled his eyes.

“No, he’s not,” Hugh told Max. “I’m here.”

“But what if—”

“Done,” Simon announced before Max could even finish his sentence. “Now, let’s just hope these things stay there as long as possible, because this ladder makes me anxious. I was trembling while putting the first flag.”

Max clicked his tongue. “It’s a windy day. The wind could have pushed the ladder or something.”

Now it was Hugh’s turn to roll his eyes. “Take my hand.”

Simon went down the ladder without letting go of his hand. Then, while Hugh took it and quickly went inside the garage to put it there, Adrian pricked his little brother up with his own rainbow flag pin, and in response, Max punched him in the stomach with all his might (which wasn’t that much). Adrian laughed and pretended to be hurt, but immediately asked him if he wanted him to help him with his pin.

Simon noticed that Adrian had already put his pin of the bisexual flag on his clothes, and watching him pull Max a little bit closer so he didn’t prink him again (now by accident), while Max gazed at his hands, trying to memorize his movements so he could do the same thing when he wanted to wear that pin again, made his mouth curved into a smile.

When his husband came back from the garage, he thought he was going to tell them to stop blocking the sidewalk and get in the house so they could continue with their day. But instead of doing that, he walked towards them and looked at their waving flags, flying on their mansion for the first time in years.

Adrian grabbed Max by the waist and carried him on his shoulders so he could have a better view. And he realized that there would be a day when they would throw themselves into the world completely alone, without knowing how people were going to act and aware that two of them were brave enough to take whatever blows that they were going to throw at them.

But they weren’t going to do it alone. Because Hugh, Simon, and their hurting parts weren’t going to spend a day without reminding them that they were going to be there, ready to catch them every single time they needed it.

Simon started to look for Hugh’s hand just to realize, Hugh was already looking for his too, and when they found each other, he couldn’t contain himself and stood on his tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. Then, Hugh smiled and kissed him back, this time, on the corner of his lip.

Simon felt proud of what they were.

He was really proud.

And he hoped they were proud too.

[pitiless-achilles-wept]

Not dead yet!: Marking my 2-year anniversaries

On Sunday I marked my two-year “cancerversary” of my diagnosis and on Tuesday a member of the support group I co-founded (for young women who are stage 4) died. Like me, she had triple-negative breast cancer. Like me, she was diagnosed stage 4 two years ago. Like me, she had exhausted several types of treatment (because triple-negative is a beast) and was looking for the one that would work. She asked me about Saci (Sassy!) and proposed trying it to her doctor less than a week before she died. Nine days before she passed she joined our Sunday cancer yoga group from bed at the hospital to join our meditation exercises. Like me, she remained confident and positive and absolutely refused to give up hope. (Like me, she also wore her hair purple sometimes.)

There were many things that are unlike about us too. She had two teenage children who now don’t have their mother. She was twelve years older than me and had had Hodgkin’s before she had breast cancer--even worse luck than mine, to triumph over one cancer only to get this diagnosis. Unlike me, she wasn’t strong enough for Saci, the only targeted triple-negative line of treatment, because her body had reacted badly to immunotherapy. She was in the hospital for two weeks with somewhat mysterious symptoms all of which added up to her body shutting down. On Saturday she went home with her family in hospice care. 2 days later she was gone.

It’s not usual for things to go so fast. Typically, doctors, patients, and family members all have some advance warning and patients spend a solid amount of time in hospice care. I am sure that people will ask me why it went that way for her. I’m asking myself why too, since it is so shocking and so entirely unfair. The fact that it can happen that way at all is frightening to me as a fellow patient since it’s the scenario of nightmares. That really could someday be me. No one ever wants to think that--and I cannot live my life focused on it either--but it has to be acknowledged as a possibility.

[More below the cut about memories from 2 years ago today and hopes for the future. Also, an invitation to contribute to some writing if you want.]

Today, January 28th, is the 2-year anniversary of my stage 4 diagnosis. In a way, it feels more significant than my initial cancer news. I had four days being horrified, but thinking that I would get through this as a phase in my life. It would be terrible--I’d have a double mastectomy, scorched-earth chemo, radiation, anything to get rid of the cancer--but then it would be done. On the Monday following my first set of CT scans I learned that that was not true. My lungs were full of tumors. (Later, after lots of waiting, MRIs and biopsies, I'd find that my lymph nodes, spine, and liver were affected too. I still have tumors in all those locations, but no new ones.) I wrote a description of getting that news in an email to a friend over the summer, after I had read Anne Boyer’s "The Undying”:

“The worst part about the lung tumors for me was that my dad had gotten a very early flight and I learned the news while he was in the air. My mom told me we could not text or tell him on the phone, that he would need to be with us both. So I drove to Newark straight from the doctor's office. It was in the teens outside and windy as we slogged to the baggage area where we were to meet. I saw my dad in his warmest and ugliest puffy orange down jacket, looking small in it, forlorn and horribly vulnerable. I fell into his arms, thinking at least that airports were such horrible places, so impersonal and banal, that no one would look twice. 'It's in my lungs,' I said into his shoulder so that I would not have to see his face. I was crying into the jacket that somehow smelled of winter cold even though he had been inside for hours. 'Please, Daddy. Fix it, please.' I spoke like a child because, on some very deep level, I think I really did still believe that my father could fix anything. I was embarrassed, though, and so I tried to stem my tears as he put his big hand on the back of my head and said, 'Oh sweetie, we'll get through this. We will.' I knew that really he could do nothing--and that this was his nightmare of powerlessness--and so I sniffed and blinked and I did not let myself cry again until June.”

Two years later this moment seems as if it just happened. The impact of my diagnosis on everyone dear to me, and especially my parents, is one of the worst things about it for me. We all know that there’s only so much “better” I can get, with the current science, and we’re all playing for time while the research moves forward towards something better, something that would make this a treatable chronic condition. I go back and forth, emotionally, on how likely I think that is and how good my position is for the future. Right now, comparing myself to the group member who died, I feel relatively fortunate, even as chemo exhausts me, I lose every scrap of hair that was ever on my body, and I spend half of my days being almost unable to eat from nausea and loss of taste. I feel glad that I was able to get Saci, that my body has so far stood up to the ceaseless trials I have put it through, with four treatments and surgery (and full-time work and living alone etc. etc.). I feel strong, not scared, even as I feel the emotional toll of terrible loneliness from covid isolation, winter, and carrying a sick body through my days alone.

I do not love the “fight” metaphor because so much of having an illness is completely out of your control and I never want to take myself (or anyone else) to task for “losing.” And so instead I will praise my body for enduring. I will praise myself for my enduring also, in both an emotional and physical way. I checked back in on how I was feeling as this anniversary approached last year and was pleased to see how much better I feel about it now, partly as a function of being in a treatment that is (likely) keeping me stable rather than in the midst of choosing another new one. Here is what I wrote back to my group of friends in November 2019, the run up to the one-year mark:

“I’m feeling like I can’t plan and don’t want to celebrate, like I can’t perform “fine” for the people in my life to spare them from the pain I’m causing by not doing better and feeling horrible about it. Perhaps it would help if I let them know that they didn’t need to perform “fine” for me? I understand the desire to protect me from the obligation to take care of them and appreciate it. But sometimes it can feel like I’m the only one experiencing anger or grief or pain, though I know I’m not. Feeling so isolated in my emotional response provides no catharsis for it. Compassion and sympathy function on the notion of “fellow feeling.” If you’re just out here, feeling by yourself, you can’t expect any comfort. As always, I think of the moment in the Iliad when Priam and Achilles cry together over dead Hector. Grief (and you can grieve for many things aside from a death) is something explicitly to be shared.” So I guess I’ve shared it here. I can do that. And I can do another thing, which is to tell you I love you. People don’t really say it enough and reserve it too entirely for romantic contexts. It’s weird--it’s not like we are wartime rationing love! And every time anyone says it to me it helps. It’s an affirmation that I am integral in some way to people’s lives which, in a society that so greatly valorizes marriage/partnership and children, is something I can be in doubt about.”

There are some things I like here, though, and that I would now like to reiterate and invite you, my far-flung friends, to do for my 2-year milestone. Never has the notion of “fellow feeling” in times of grief and depression hit harder or been more important than during covid. In a way, the nation (or even world) was forced into much the same position, emotionally and practically, that my cancer put me in. People are isolated, unable to perform “fine” and wondering if other people feel the same way, or even if any of us can take care of each other at all. I am here to tell you that you can. Maybe not immediately but--sooner than you think--you can. Emotional reserves may be low but reaching out to support someone else can actually replenish them. You do not have to feel alone, or to feel, alone.

And for me, for this milestone and for the cancer-related depression that I certainly do have, I’d like to invite you to help me, so that I can do the same for you. I invite you to write something about how this milestone feels for you (either about me or not), how it relates to all the other insane things going on in the world or with you (not about me at all), how you felt on the original day when I shared my stage 4 diagnosis (definitely about me)--really anything that is on your mind or in your heart.

“Oh great,” you may think, “the English PhD has asked us to do homework!”. But no! It's up to you what you do. Write in whatever form you want, however long, even anonymously. And if you do I will write you back! Not with grades or comments, but with something to connect to what you shared. It is a way to create fellow-feeling; to open up, connect, heal. With me, yes, but also as the group of extraordinary people who have gone with me so far on this hard road. It’s a very different proposition to support someone through time-limited treatment with a good outcome than it is to sign on for whatever comes next. You are all, truly, pretty extraordinary.

Anyone who wants to send a note or reflection can email me or drop a file or post in this Google drive folder. Like I said, feel free to share whatever and do it anonymously if you’d rather. You can also askbox me here (better than DMS) or submit a post to this blog. (I'm taking a chance with open DMs for now...we'll see if that needs to change.)

I am grateful for all of you every day, but especially today.

Love, Bex

p.s. The title of this post refers to the cinematic classic "Monty Python and the Holy Grail," a film my high school self and friends loved. They, along with other wonderful folks. gave me a "cancerversary" cake with "Not dead yet, motherfucker!" on it this Sunday. p.p.s. The average life expectancy for people who get this diagnosis is 18 months to 3 years. Hitting 5 years would be extraordinary. Starting Year 3 is a huge deal and I have every intention of being extraordinary. (Never been average at anything in my life...I either succeed spectacularly or fail epically!)

[keepmeinthedark]

To The Top || A Marauders Band AU

Chapter Two: You Gotta Not

Read here on A03

So Lily Evans brought a big asset to the band?

Only if you consider Remus Lupin to be a big asset, which I do.

Did Lily introduce them?

In time.

What happened in the meantime?

Before Remus joined the band there was just James, Sirius, and Frank. They lived together in this house called Maxwells house. It belonged to these twins Fabian and Gideon and they opened it up to anyone who needed a home. 

And what was Remus doing? What were you doing?

I was in Germany at the time, Remus was at university. But he had been friends with Lily since they were young and even though he was staying in a student accommodation he wasn't too far away for their friendship to change in any way.

//

Lily and Remus had spent New Year's Eve together. One of Remus' classmates held a party which they attended and stayed until the clock struck midnight. By the time they had made it back to his accommodation, it was three in the morning. They had both slept in Remus' bed without bothering to change their clothes or even take their make-up off, which then lead to one of the worst mornings in both of their lives.

It was eight in the morning when Remus's phone went off. He groaned when he saw his twin brother's name appear on the screen and held the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Re, where are you?"

"What do you mean?" he paused. "Am I supposed to be somewhere?"

He could practically feel Rom rolling his eyes. "You and Lily both promised Mum that you'd help with the fate. Remember? The fate? The one that Mum has been stressing over for weeks?"

Shit.

"Ohhh yeah, yeah I completely remember god who do you take me for? Yeah me and Lils are on our way now, well be like five minutes tops I promise." and with that, he quickly hung up.

Shit Shit Shit Shit.

"Lily come on, we have to go," Remus said quickly as he shook his best friend awake.

Lily only groaned as she lifted her head off the pillow, she watched Remus rush around the room to grab the makeup wipes and cleaned off the smudged eyeliner he still had on. 

Lily didn't wait for an explanation, she just got out of the bed and found her way towards the nearest hairbrush.  It wasn't until they were waiting for the bus that Lily had asked where they were going.

"My mum's thing, remember? We said we would help."

Lily didn't look like she remembered but she nodded anyway. 

 "How long do you think we'll be?" 

Remus shrugged, "No idea. Why? Got somewhere to be?"

Lily rolled her eyes, "Got a hangover to cure is more like it."

 They had gotten to the fate twenty minutes later and immediately regretted not faking a sickness to get out of it.

Hope Lupin was a powerhouse and an amazing mum, she was loving and caring, and gentle. But she was a single mum who had raised three boys and was in the middle of raising another, which made her incredibly scary when she was stressed.

"There you two are!" she exclaimed when she saw Remus and Lily making their way down the field where the fate was being held. "I was about to send Petunia off after you guys, honestly why are you so late?"

Remus panicked, "Headache," he said.

Hope placed her hands to her hips and raised an eyebrow, "Is headache code for a hangover?" 

They both nodded.

Hope sighed, "There's coke, bananas, and water in that tent over there. Go and tip half of the water out of a bottle, fill the rest with coke, drink that, and eat a banana. I don't have time for this." she told them, quickly adding, "Its a hangover remedy," after seeing their confused faces.

"Where was this remedy all the other times we've been hungover?" Lily asked, acting offended.

Hope shrugged, "You never asked." 

"Still could've been useful." 

"How am I supposed to know that you're hungover if you never tell me!?" Hope exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air and turning her back on them in order to do other things.

"You're Mum!" Remus yelled back. "You know everything!"

"Two minutes! Get a move on!" was all that Hope yelled back.

 As Hope had promised the flat coke and bananas had helped their hangovers but unfortunately didn't make them any more prepared for the long day ahead of them. Remus' parents had divorced three years ago when Lyall had admitted that he had fallen for someone else. Remus doubts that his parents have ever been in love. They had his older brother, Lycus when they were in their twenties and before they were married. They did get married not long after he was born and three years after that they had Romulus and Remus, the twins also weren't planned. Neither was Macca, Remus' younger brother who was only 2 years old at the time of the divorce. 

His father's new girlfriend didn't last very long and got intimidated by the fact that he had four sons. Romulus has always said that he was certain that there was no girl, to begin with, they had never met her and their dad wasn't exactly someone who had luck when it came to romance. Romulus swears that he made her up to use as an excuse to get a divorce. Lycus believes him. Remus doesn't. 

Hope and Lyall still remained close friends and the boys are allowed to stay with either one of them as much as they like, but they spend the majority of their time with Hope, or at least Lycus, Romulus, and Remus do. Macca, who is now five, spends Monday to Thursday with Hope and Friday to Sunday with Lyall in hopes that he will grow up to have a close relationship with both parents.

Remus had nothing against his father, he was a good dad and never failed to make Remus feel loved. But he wasn't yet out to his dad yet and wasn't sure if it would go well if he did come out to him. He likes to think that his dad would try to be supportive but still doesn't want anything to change between them. Not only that but he preferred his mum's cooking.

Lyall worked as a teacher for a primary school near where he lived and Hope owned her own florist in town but would always pop into the other shops there to see if they needed any help when she had the time, which is what led to her helping out with the local coffee shops fate in order to help raise money for cancer research. This wasn't the first time Hope had dragged her children out of their usual routines to stand in a field in the middle of winter and most certainly won't be the last. But they always came, Remus would never admit it but he quite enjoyed these things. Hope had always wanted to help with certain school and church events and Remus was proud to have a mum who was so loved in the community, even if she was scary when she got into her boss mode.

By the time Remus had finished their drinks and properly woke up, there was already a crowd of people going around each stall, Remus had seen Romulus surrounded by little kids. He called them over when he saw them.

"Remus! Lily! You two are captains get over here!"

"Oh bloody hell," Remus said under his breath, noticing the football that he had in his hands.

  Sirius felt like his figures were going to fall off. It was January 1st, who set up an outdoor event on January 1st.

They had only just got there and he already wanted to desperately go home, he didn't dream his parents irrelevant and leave his whole family behind at the age of 22 just to play in the freezing cold, but James had insisted that this would be worth it and he seemed so excited for every gig Sirius could never say no.

It was during their first set that Sirius had seen her.

She had been all that James had talked about since their gig at the pub on Christmas eve, he could recite her description by memory.

Dark red hair that reached her chest.

Emerald green eyes.

Plus size

A smile that glows.

Exactly a head smaller than James.

Two piercings in her ear lobe and one in her cartilage.

A tattoo of a small tattoo of a wolf behind her ear.

And she was wearing white Doc Martens.

Yep, that was her. It had to be, she ticked every box (apart from the tattoo as she was too far away for Sirius to get a proper look. But she looked like a girl that would have one.)

Sirius' heart leaped. James was going to be so excited, all he could talk about throughout Christmas was how much he regretted not asking for her Instagram. He had to tell him.

He was going to tell him.

He had it all planned. He was going to give James that smile that only James got, the one that said "I know something you don't know," James always got so excited at good news. 

Then he was going to ask James once more how Lily Evans looked, and James would go on a ramble, giving out as much information about this girl that he could remember. Then he would spin James around and point her out and knowing James he would probably scream. Sirius couldn't wait, he was a hopeless romantic after all.

As they went through each song he couldn't take his eyes off her, he had to make sure that he knew where she was when he told James. And he was going to tell him, he was certain of it.

That is, he was certain of it until he saw him.

Now that's a sight that he will never be able to get out of his head.

Short blond curly hair.

Tall.

Thin, yet still had a bit of muscle.

Crooked nose. 

Amber eyes.

And a large scar going across his face, from his right eye down through his nose and ending just before his lips.

God his lips!

As they played on Sirius began to notice more and more about this mystery boy. He seemed to be friendly with Lily, they were playing football with a group of kids and it was obvious that he was pretending to not be good for their sake. There was another boy with them who had similar features. Must be a brother, Sirius thought.

The boy was dressed in a Queen t-shirt, a white one with a long-sleeved black shirt underneath, and his jeans were ripped. He wore eyeliner, his nails were painted black and he had multiple rings on his figures.

Sirius had never been more turned on until he saw him take a five-minute break to smoke a cigarette.

Sirius could never date a smoker. James was enough trouble, Sirius had lost count on how many times he had told him that he ought to quit but he never listens. Smoking kills everyone knows this so why did some people think that by some miracle they could be the exception.

Sirius was about to give it all up then and there, make his eyes go back to following Lily around, or maybe even have his brain focus on what he was actually supposed to be going. But once the boy had put out his cigarette and rejoined the group of kids one of them had fallen over and hurt their knee. The boy crouched down to their level and talked to the boy until he laughed while Lily got a wet paper towel and a plaster.

Damit, Sirius thought. Why do guys with kids always have to be so damn attractive?

 For the rest of their set, the only thing Sirius could see was him.

He had forgotten all about Lily Evans until they had finished. When they had gotten off the stage James had been bouncing up and down. His smile was the widest he had ever seen it. 

"It's her," he said quickly.

"Whos her?" Frank asked, looking at the crowd confused.

"Her, her. That girl I met a the pub last week. She's here."

"Go talk to her then." And while you're at it get me her mate's number?

James began to pale, "I can't just go up and talk to her," he told them shaking his head. "What if she hates me?"

Frank raised an eyebrow, "Why would she hate you, I thought you hit it off?"

"We did!"

"So go talk to her!"

James looked at Lily and then back at Sirius and Frank. He had now started picking at his figure nails, slowly picking one off and throwing it onto the ground.

"What do I say?" He asked, desperately. 

Frank seemed very confident. "Mate, you've just played for the entire day she surly noticed that it was you at one point. She's probably begging for you to go and talk to her."

James looked confused, "Then why hasn't she come up to me?" His eyes suddenly widened. "What if she really isn't interested? I mean I know I didn't ask for her Snapchat or anything but she didn't ask for mine either!" he said in one breath. Sirius was sure he may faint if he thought anymore.

Both James and Sirius looked at Frank who rolled his eyes. "She's the girl. You're supposed to be the one to ask her out and make the first move. Most girls are scared to ask out guys cause guys suck." He said it as if it was the most obvious thing ever. "Just take a deep breath, channel your confidence, and swipe her off her feet. You've got this."

James took a breath and nodded before making his way towards Lily who was having a conversation with a much taller boy. He looked a bit like Sirius' mystery boy but older, taller, and with darker hair and no scar. Maybe another brother.

Sirius and Frank both watched James approached Lily in silence. They watched him ask to talk to her, Sirius didn't miss the smile that appeared across her face. Unfortunately said smile began to slowly disappear once James began talking and before anyone could realize that this was indeed a bad idea, Lily had slapped James across the face and had begun to walk in the other direction. 

James all but stomped back towards Sirius and Frank, his glasses had fallen to the tip of his nose and his face had gone nearly bright red, though Sirius couldn't tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. 

He mumbled a "Let's go" and grabbed all of his belongings before making his way towards the van. All Sirius and Frank could do was stare at each other in disbelief.

"This is why we don't leave him alone unsupervised," Sirius mumbled. 

[anna-justice]

Lost or Found - 13

Summary: As Jay, Hailey, Kim, Adam and Kevin start their junior year in the wake of a tragic summer, the past year of their lives comes back to haunt them. If you enjoyed Pretty Little Liars, this is for you! *UPSTEAD/BURZEK High School AU

...

13 - Helpless ...

WARNING: this chapter contains an intense scene of domestic abuse, if that is not something you feel comfortable reading, skip all text in italics. 

The next few days went by in a blur.

Sunday was spent the same way Saturday was, with Jay at Hailey’s beside from the time that visiting hours began to when they ended. The only difference was that Kim was sent home that day, while Hailey was kept for observation.

Jay had a million questions for Hailey. The words medical history hadn’t left his mind since they were first uttered. He was dying to ask her to tell him everything, it was eating him alive. 

Hailey was sick and tired of being in a hospital bed, and it only got worse when Monday rolled around and Jay had to go to school. She was left alone with her thoughts, and they were all over the place. The mess that they were wound up in suddenly felt much more real, and when Hailey took the time to reflect, it hit her that it had been all too real from the beginning.

Erin was dead and no one knows what happened. They should have gone to the police, she shouldn’t have let Jay convince her to go this alone. She had always been the voice of reason, but with him, she had no problem following him blindly. They were in too deep, people were dead, reputations were ruined, all of their loved ones were in danger and all they had to show for it was a cellphone that they were never supposed to have in the first place.

Or maybe they were.... That was the problem, whoever the person that was tormenting them was, they were always two steps ahead. And Hailey couldn’t help but think that every step they made in the “right direction” was just another part of the game that they were set up to play. They were supposed to find the phone, they were supposed to think it was Nadia, Hailey was even considering that Kelly was too obvious. They had been given a suspect wrapped up with a bow on top, it was too easy. 

She couldn’t stop the endless stream. There was so much to think about, including how she even ended up in the hospital in the first place. Someone would have to have failed their challenge, that was the only explanation. The person threatening them was crazy, but they were also a control freak. If someone refused then they would be sure to retaliate. She knew it wasn’t Kim or her, neither of  them got a text. It could have been Jay, but he already got one and passed. Kevin’s “person” was his sister. That leaves Adam, Kim is Adam’s person. Adam failed, but it doesn’t explain why they both ended up in that garage. By the rules of the game, Hailey should have been safe…

Hailey’s head hurt, there were too many moving pieces to keep track of. And by Tuesday she had come to terms with the fact  that she wasn’t going to be able to crack the case by herself. She needed the scooby gang, whose name unfortunately stuck after her and Jay’s fight a few days after it all started. 

Wednesday was the day she was supposed to go home, much to Hailey’s approval. She had had her fair share of  soap operas, HGTV and bad hospital food. She wasn’t looking forward to the load of HW she was going to have, but thankfully Jay had picked up some things for her to do while she was bedridden. 

She was wearing a pair of leggings and an oversized t-shirt that she stole from her brother. She had discarded the horrid hospital gown a few days prior. The doctor told her that he would be back soon to do one final check up and explain some things before she was discharged. 

Jay rounded the corner, pizza box in hand. He thought he would surprise Hailey with dinner to celebrate her release. It was almost six and he had just come from fall workouts, their school was known for  their baseball team and the coach liked to start training and conditioning way too early. He leaned against the doorframe, watching her gather her things. He was about to announce himself when she grabbed the hem of her oversized t-shirt, pulling it to rest over her hips. Jay had every intention of averting his gaze, but as the material was lifted a pink and white gash was revealed near the small of her back. 

He knew her history, he shouldn’t have been surprised, but seeing the real life evidence on her body had him at a loss for words. He must’ve been staring, because the next thing he heard was Hailey’s teasing voice. “You see something you like Halstead?” 

Jay chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, pizza?” He asked, completely ignoring her.

Hailey took the box from his hands with a smirk and plopped herself down on the bed, motioning for him to sit in front of her. “You are my favorite person in the world right now.” She wasted no time pulling out a slice while Jay struggled to control his heart beat. He knew she was kidding and that it was the pizza talking, but he found himself hoping that she meant it. Hailey glanced up at him, nodding towards the box and trying to ignore the look on his face. 

“You ready to bust out of here?” Jay askes, once again changing the subject.

Hailey nodded, chewing her big bite of pizza. “Very, these places need to come with padded walls.”

Jay laughed, attempting to move on from whatever he saw earlier. It wasn’t working very well. “When do you get to leave?”

“The doctor said he would be back in a few hours for my final exam and then I’d be free to go. Aunt Trudy just told me to call her when they gave me the all clear and she would leave work.” Hailey explained.

Jay nodded, picking up a slice. Thoughts of Hailey’s dad still circled his head and he couldn’t help but want to tell her that he was there, not that it would do her any good. He just couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt that came with keeping something like this from her. He took a deep breath, “Can we talk?”

“Of course.” She said, “Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” Jay said sighing, “I just need to know Hailey, what happened…”

Hailey felt her breath catch in the back of her throat, she wasn’t prepared for that. “Jay--”

“I’m sorry, I know it isn’t my place, I just--” He paused, “I keep imaging it myself and I just need to know.”

Hailey nodded, running her hands through her hair. She wanted to say no, to tell him to leave and forget that that day never happened, but she couldn’t. Because he was sitting there in front of her looking like he was about to fall apart and it made her heart ache, literally. “Okay.”

“Thank you.” He said softly.

Hailey re-adjusted herself, trying to find the words to explain it all. Unfortunately, she remembered everything…

Hailey sat on the couch with her mom. It was a normal friday night for them, there was a movie playing and an abandoned pizza box on the counter. Ever since her brothers moved out, the two of them had made it a habit of spending the first night of the weekend together.

When they were about halfway through the front door slammed and Hailey pulled her knees to her chest. Undoubtedly her father was home. Anne tensed, watching her husband from her seat, hoping he would head straight for the stairs like he normally did. He didn’t, instead he opened the fridge, grabbing another beer. He glanced over the door and met Hailey’s gaze that had followed her mother’s, she quickly averted her eyes. 

The refrigerator door was slammed in the same fashion as the front door, causing the machine to shake. Hailey watched out of the corner of her eye as her father tipped the bottle up and downed the whole thing. No doubt he was a professional by now. He slammed the bottle down on the counter, and Hailey was shocked that it didn’t shatter. “Anne, do you have something you want to tell me?” He spat.

Anne looked up in shock, her daughter’s worried expression burning into the side of her head. “Pardon?”

“You know what I’m talking about…” He said, stalking forward. “Don’t play dumb you whore.” 

Anne gasped, taken aback. She had no clue what he was talking about and she honestly didn’t want to know. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what you are talking about.” She rushed out, defending herself.

Eldon grabbed her wrist tightly and pulled her up to face him, “Like hell.” He growled, squeezing until Anne whimpered in pain. “I know you’ve been whoring around.” 

Hailey stood in shock, there was no way that her mother would do that. She knew that Anne loved Eldon blinding. Anne’s heart rate speeds up and Hailey watches her father’s fists clench. In that moment she made a decision that would prove to be one of her worst: she grabbed her mother by the shoulders and pulled backwards, taking a protective stance in front of her. “Just go upstairs dad, you’re drunk.” She said gently, pleading with him. 

Eldon smirked and Hailey realized her mistake. “This doesn’t concern you, you ungrateful little bitch. Go upstairs. Now.” 

Hailey grimaced, she was already in too deep, there was no way either of them were getting out of this and she’d be damned if she let her mom suffer alone. “No.” 

Before she could even comprehend what was happening, a hand fell on her cheek. The echo rang throughout the room and Anne shrieked as Hailey brought her hand to her face, fighting back tears. She could feel the skin stinging,and she knew that her father was waiting for her to walk away, but she couldn’t. He was angry and she had made it worse, her mom didn’t deserve to feel his wrath when Hailey triggered it. She stood her ground, her blue eyes meeting his fiery ones. They stared at each other down for a few seconds, but suddenly, he snapped. 

His tight grip latched onto her forearms and Hailey felt herself thrown into the wall beside them. “Eldon!” Anne screamed. She hit it with such force that the wind was knocked completely out of her. Her back stung and she wheezed, trying to catch her breath. Eldon held her tight against the wall, blowing his hot breath in her face, Hailey gagged. 

“You think you’re so tough, huh?” He taunted, digging his nails into her bare arms. She was thrown again, but this time into the counter. She screamed in agony as she collided with the hard surface, a loud crack rang out and she fell to the floor, clutching her side. “You feel tough?” Hailey cried out as her father kicked her side, causing her curl into a ball on the floor. “Do you feel tough?” He screamed at her, muffling Anne’s sobs in the background. 

Eldon grabbed Hailey by the arm, yanking her up. There was a sharp pain in her shoulder and she screamed, the sound cut off by her father’s hand grabbing her throat. Hailey felt her back hit the fridge behind her, she clawed at his hand, her air cut off once again. “Never speak to me that way again.” He said in her face, before throwing her to the ground. Her wrist broke her fall, but Hailey was numb to the pain. She groaned, rolling onto her back as the tears fell. Her head was spinning and the last thing she saw was her mother hovering over her, then everything went black.

Hailey was shaking uncontrollably as she finished, tears rolling down her cheeks. Jay felt like he couldn’t breathe, the broken girl in front of him was someone he didn’t recognize and he hated himself for making her relive that. He placed a hand over hers, careful not to scare her this time. 

She felt his hand on hers and Hailey glanced up, finding the strength to face him. When their eyes met she began to sob, and Jay took it as an invitation to pull her to him. He wrapped his arms securely around her as she cried, Hailey fisted his shirt in her hand, holding on for dear life. 

They sat there for forever, Hailey soaking his shirt and Jay doing his best to comfort her. He wanted to make it all go away, but he couldn’t. He was powerless, all he could was hold her and for now that seemed to be enough. 

Finally, Hailey pulled away hiccuping, keeping her eyes trained on the bed. Jay reached out, brushing a hair behind her ear and letting his hand linger there. “Hailey Upton, you are the strongest person I know.” He said, looking her straight in the eye.

Hailey nodded, swallowing hard. She didn’t dare open her mouth, she knew her voice would betray her. 

She made the first move this time, settling into her side and laying her head on his shoulder. Jay smiled softly, welcoming her with open arms. He felt better, or at least better than before. Everything was out now, and Hailey trusted him enough to  tell him. However, there was a new pressure on his chest now. A different one. An equally beautiful and terrifying one, and it was all consuming. He couldn’t deny it, he was falling in love with Hailey Upton.

...

A/N: Finally!! You know everything! I hope that the scene was bearable to read, it was something that needed to happen, but I’m not very good at writing violence.  Thanks for reading! P. S. I actually remembered the tag list this time!

@lissethsrojas @fuckyeahkillianemma @puckluck28 @chilly7188 @thebigapocalypsewolf @karihighman

[explicid]

2 months before my dad passed away I moved into my boyfriends parents house. While I am extremely grateful for them and love them tremendously, this has been the most mental health-challenging year of my life. Since I was 18 I was ready to have my own space. I thrive in my own environment, I feel safe to be in my own skin. I started out as house mates with a friend and when the lease was up, instead of moving into my boyfriends house with him & his mom like they so kindly offered, I got my own $750 apartment and loved every minute of it. Moving to oregon with my boyfriend was great. I loved our situation there; the apartment, dogs, us. But our schedule was complete opposite due to him working the night shift. Moving to Hawaii seemed like a dream, and when the opportunity appeared, we jumped on it. Within 2 weeks of knowing my boyfriend secured a job, he had left early and his mom flew over to help me pack up the apartment by the end of the month. She stayed with me for 3 weeks, minus one where she drove to Boise and my dad & grandma drove up to spend a few days with me before I moved. We went to the rose garden and ate Mexican food. It was the very last time I saw my dad when he was still able to talk to me. 2 months in Hawaii went by and I got a call from my little brother on a Wednesday saying dad was going into hospice. His sickness intensified more than I could ever comprehend. I do not know why at the time I couldn’t process the fact my dad was actually dying. Even in that following weekend, when I flew to Redding on a red eye and saw him Friday, Saturday, Sunday. I had packed my bags for what I was hoping was maybe 6 months at least. I was ready to help my dad. But I was too late. 7am Monday morning came and my world completely shattered. He passed away downstairs at my grandmas house sometime early morning. I was sleeping just upstairs on a cot on the floor. I do not know if he was in pain, or if he knew what was happening. More details are floating through my mind but I’ll save it for another time. But my heart is broken like never before. I now know that I never truly had my heart broken. With experiencing the lost of my dad, and having to deal with this trauma in somebody else’s house, it’s been very challenging for me. It’s a beautiful house, and even more beautiful place to live. But for me to heal, I need my own environment. It’s just complicated I guess..

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Somebody Sweet to Talk To ❁︎ 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

Pairing: Harry Osborn x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 6k

Gif credit: @mayahawkes

Summary & Warnings || Series Masterlist

Extra warning for this chapter: reader shows some signs of anxiety/mood changes.

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨

❁︎ ・・・・・❁︎ ・・・・・ ❁︎ ・・・・・❁︎

Monday arrived too soon, and you dreaded it more than any other week from the school year. Entering the library, you had walked directly toward your usual table and took your laptop and headphones out in order to do homework but everyone around you was staring, almost impatiently, and it was extremely distracting.

It didn’t matter if you finished early or not, Tony had given you the entire week free and changed your working schedule to only Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday unless there was too much to do or emergencies. Seeing as it was better than not having a job at all, you didn’t dare fight him when you knew he was trying to favor you.

The therapy thing... that was different. Maybe you had taken advantage of the fact that Tony and Bucky were mentally ill too by reminding them how cruel medical professionals tended to be toward their patients and even more so when the patient was a fat woman, and maybe you could’ve approached the topic in a more neutral way to not make them feel so damn guilty; yet you didn’t think about it at that moment, too scared of going back to hear that you would never get better, or that you were a problematic person, or therapists simply denying you treatment until you lost weight.

A hand encapsulating yours took you out of your self-absorptive episode. You didn’t need to look to know it was Harry, the slight warmth from his palm that was so different from any hand you had felt on you was becoming familiar.

That was a problem. You spent the entire Sunday going through it and pondering on telling him it would be better to knock it off. You still decided you could tame your newfound feelings and keep faking being in a relationship with him in exchange for friendship.

Snatching your headphones off, you did turn to look at him. He was seemingly analyzing you, “are you okay?” his question was made in a whisper.

“Yeah, I’m just... struggling to focus.” You nodded upward at the now black screen from your computer. You had definitely lost more time than you thought.

“I know, I finished my homework already.”

Looking down at your wristwatch, you realized Harry had gotten there an hour ago. “Sorry, I—“

“It’s okay,” he interrupted, giving your hand a squeeze before moving to store his supplies. “Pete told me you had a tough weekend.”

Humming, you stored your supplies too just to entertain yourself. You hated when people talked about your health without your consent, it was extremely intrusive and made you feel vulnerably uncomfortable. Had Peter told Gwen too?

The answer didn’t take long to come. Fingers intertwined with Harry’s, you left the library to where Peter and Gwen must’ve been waiting for the two of you. The blonde looked at you with empathy, almost pity, and flashed one of those smiles that unknowingly made you feel worse.

Your fake boyfriend must’ve processed it the same way or felt you tense because he ran his thumb over the back of your hand soothingly. He then breathed a smile, making you turn to inquire what was going on. He nodded upward to gesture at the front crystal doors and it was like you could breathe properly again — it was raining.

The smell enhanced your senses as the four of you abandoned the building, Harry’s steps slowed down in contrast to Peter’s hurried ones. You could have cried as consistently as the sky was doing, Harry was being thoughtful and extremely kind to you by allowing you a relaxing moment and you hadn’t even asked for it.

He threw his keys at Gwen, telling her to not wait for you because you would walk to The Compound. It was a bad idea, walking under the rain when the season was about to change, yet you didn’t dare say no — you couldn’t when as much as you knew the water falling onto you was cold, you felt warm inside.

There was no need for Harry and you to still hold hands, or to stroll so closely to each other — both of you knew, both ignored it. Having a friend was nice, someone to go to the movies with, talk about everything and nothing, bake together, walk down the rain in silence with slow strides to relish into the aliveness only nature could grant.

Walking slowly didn’t bother him this time, getting soaked didn’t either. He had never seen the face of a person look younger so quickly, he had never even paid attention to those things before and now wondered why when it was so satisfying to watch. In that case, the satisfaction could’ve come from the fact that he was part of it, not an important one in his mind but it was something. You were starting to relax beside him, the frown you had been carrying since he got to the library long gone as your upper body slumped a little. He had helped achieve that, and for a split minute, nothing else mattered until he thought what would his father say if he knew Harry’s biggest accomplishment up to that day had been relaxing his —fake— girlfriend.

“We don’t have to get in if you don’t want to,” he whispered, almost hopeful so he could be in you relaxed and consequentially soothing presence for a little longer.

“I don’t want you to get sick,” you said, softness oozing from your tone in an attempt to show him you were more than grateful.

Either of you wasn’t wet enough to be soaked, both made the observation in distinct ways. His hoodie, in fact, was wet, just like his hair, but his jeans looked almost dry — your hair looked different due to the water, your jacket seemed darker, and there was a waterdrop on top of your right eyelash that he couldn’t keep himself from wiping.

Dropping your backpack onto one of the sofas, you peeled your jacket off. Harry did the same with his book bag and took his hoodie off. Before he could drop it, you took it from his hand.

He tilted his head. You chuckled, “I’ll put it in the dryer so it doesn’t get ruined.” He blinked rapidly, a nod being the only answer he could give.

He watched you walk away, heart dropping as you disappeared further into the hallway and made a turn. God, what was happening to him? He missed the warmth from your palm already, irradiating into his even though yours was smaller, and filling his entire system with a feeling he had never experienced; a week had taken him to become needy for your touch, that attention you gave so selflessly when he spoke, your wise and poignant comments that you always seemed to finish with an interested question of his opinion, your soft lips that made everything around him fade away.

“Here,” you whispered, almost bashfully. He focused his eyes on you again, realizing he had been staring at nothingness. A piece of clothing was being offered by your right hand as with the left one you made signs at someone behind him. “It’ll fit you loosely because it’s mine, but you’ll be warm.”

Fuck. Harry had never met a kinder person than you. He couldn’t believe Peter and Ned had said you were everything but, it was impossible for them to be talking about the same woman. He took the soft fabric in his grasp, sliding it down his head before slipping his arms in — it fitted him better than both of you had considered.

Peter was horrified to see his male best friend in a familiar blue sweatshirt, eyes wide as he and Gwen went back to the living room after spending time alone in his bedroom. His two best friends were sat almost flushed against the other, you type in your laptop as Harry slanted his head to read whatever you were redacting.

Gwen was worried, she thought Harry would keep his distance after the conversation they had. But now, watching him give you all his attention and hearing him ask about your homework like it was the most interesting topic someone could talk about, she realized there was no point in tearing you apart. Her boyfriend thought otherwise, and it worried her too — Peter, being Peter, was getting obsessive.

When you were done, you uploaded the essay to the school’s interface and closed the laptop. Standing up, you arranged your backpack in the way you liked and then did the same with the laptop case.

“Does any of you want something from the kitchen?” you asked, surprising them.

Gwen nodded, bashfully. “Camomile tea, if you can.”

“Of course,” you nodded too.

Harry followed you toward the kitchen, not wanting to be under Peter’s annoyed gaze that he honestly didn’t understand anymore. Snorting when you started peeling the gigantic orange he bought for you once the kettle was on the burner, he sat on a stool.

You offered him some fruit, the ghost of a smile appearing on your face when he took half of the orange. It was surprisingly tasty, you hadn’t expected that from its size.

Endearingly vexing was a good way of describing oranges, he had to agree. Harry avoided them most of the time because of how changing their flavor was, but now he was starting to think they weren’t that bad — they would never beat apples, though.

Tony poured himself some coffee, watching you comfortably eat fruit. He also saw Harry’s sweatshirt and couldn’t hide the teasing smirk from plastering on his face when you turned to gaze at him. He was happy you hadn’t ended things with Harry, no matter what Tony thought of Norman he knew the kid wasn’t at fault — he also suspected Harry was mistreated by his dad and couldn’t help but be biased.

“Does Gwen like sugar in her tea?” You wondered out loud.

Harry shrugged. He didn’t know a lot about Gwen even though she was his best friend, the blonde didn’t make him part of everything. You ignored him and carried the teacup in a hand and the sugar bowl in another, making him once again inwardly question why everyone thought of you as a heartless person.

And because you weren’t what people said you were, he grew more nervous about introducing you to his father. Norman tended to treat people who weren’t Harry with respect and even empathy, but what if he didn’t like you? What if he found you to be dumb for supposedly dating his son? Harry didn’t want to put you through one of his dad’s weird episodes, but he didn’t want his dad to laugh at him if he said you had an emergency to take care of either.

He saw you try to smile warmly at Gwen when handing her the cup and decided it would be better to warn you the next day when the mood wouldn’t be soured.

“We’re watching Footloose when Pete finishes his homework, do you two want to join us?”

“Sure,” both shrugged and said at the same time. Sharing a look, something that in the week you had been close had become second nature, you saw each other’s brows twitch in curiousness.

Too focused on the movie to pay attention to whatever couple-y thing Peter and Gwen were doing, you sat with your shoulders brushing. Harry shifted to rest his head on the arm of the couch, his hand brushing yours so you’d get the hint. Your head dropped onto his arm as you shuffled to make sure you would squash him, none of your eyes leaving the screen.

Tuesday brought mountains of homework and a scorching sunny afternoon. Wednesday was the opposite, that morning Harry found himself staring at the blue sweatshirt laying on his desk chair to decide if it would be a good idea to wear it again. The fabric still smelled of the softener you used, a custom one Stark bought for you every few weeks — there was a slight sweetness under the freshness of the scent and he marveled at how suiting it was.

Caving in, he snatched the sweatshirt and hoped Peter wouldn’t react like the other time. His best friend was getting distant, he got annoyed easily too — Harry thought him to be jealous, confirming his theory of Peter having feelings for you; Harry also thought himself to be envious of the finding.

Peter always got what Harry wanted, but this was different. This time he had put himself in that situation, almost begging to be thrown to the side when he wasn’t useful anymore. The day was approaching if the pattern wasn’t broken, and it didn’t hurt him because his dad would laugh or because he would probably still see you every day, it hurt him because he had never felt so safe in someone else’s presence.

He took a whiff of the sweatshirt as he slid it on, the memory of the first time he got to smell the scent coming to his mind.

It had been a while since he put a foot in the university. Harry had hit rock bottom, an overdose almost took his life and the worst part of it was how badly he wished it had. Out of spite, because he didn’t think he should let his father win every single battle, he decided to get help. Rehabilitation centers weren’t pretty, nor comfortable, and their usefulness could be up for debate; but Harry learned many things about himself there: his needs and dreams, his potential that he didn’t believe in most of the days, the fact that if he tried and wanted hard enough he could be a good person and a successful professional.

Peter was with Ned outside of the building when he arrived, waiting for someone that wasn’t him. Their greetings were effusive, brotherly, he felt good in their arms when he allowed them to hug him. But the feeling was nothing compared to the somersaults his stomach made when something he could only describe as hot cocoa on a winter day filled his nostrils.

You were dressed in casual clothes, he remembered them perfectly as he swung his backpack over his shoulder. Dark jeans, skater vans, a yellow sweatshirt that made you look radiant even though your eyes were sad. You greeted them three politely and Peter introduced you briefly, after that you made your way through the door and into the crowd — Harry couldn’t stop staring at the spot you had disappeared from, and Ned caught it so he said, ”been there, not even got to try and do that.”

Warnings came. Your reclusiveness, the way you closed off when a loved one did something that mildly upset you and how easily you got upset. Peter said you were like a sister to him, that not even he could get your shell to crack. ”She’s shyer than me, and I’m not even sure if she likes people,” Peter had sighed sadly.

Your career paths didn’t have anything to do with the other, not a single class was shared. Free hours you did share, but Harry followed his friends’ advice because it was simple curiosity and he needed different things, he didn’t need to fix people because he couldn’t.

But now, now he wished he had tried like Ned didn’t. He didn’t understand why he was feeling like that so soon, and he didn’t want to understand — it would be useless. Maybe all this time he had harbored a crush, or maybe it was the particular enticement that only the forbidden could provide, or maybe —just maybe and that was all— he was falling easily for the first person to be unapologetically themselves around him.

Harry knew that Peter held off, Ned always followed what Pete and Betty did, and Gwen was scared of him because of his past. If you explicitly knew about it and had lied when he asked, you were a master at masking it, and if you didn’t know about it he was sure you wouldn’t react badly to the news.

You would probably praise him again for learning to not lash out at people, he could picture your neutral semblance upon hearing all about it as he entered the classroom to take his first lecture of the day and a sigh slid past his lips.

Bouncing your leg, you slid the collar of your hoodie up to the bridge of your nose in exasperation. Harry’s cologne made you sigh heavily against the soft fabric, a part of you regretted having put it on while the other marveled at how the smell had clung to the fabric just by being against his arm. The grey material was comforting enough, but his smell was the real treat and you hated to know it, you hated not being able to help it.

Thoughts of Peter still swarmed around your mind, you still felt pangs on your chest when Gwen sat on his lap or when they kissed in front of you. But they weren’t constant anymore, you were too busy between getting your master’s degree, your wavering mental health, and Harry’s deep voice. At that, you would have to add your job next week, but you’d manage. You were almost as good as Tony at multitasking, writing nomenclatures down while craving your fake boyfriend’s presence would be aced — you even were sure you could get a doctorate on it and the thought chilled you to the bone.

You assumed you were thinking like a teenager — you hadn’t even thought like that when you were a teenager! You had been too lost into your self-hate and problems at home to have the time to behave like a teenager or to want to be one... Not wanting to think about it anymore, you focused on your homework for the day.

A shadow was cast on your notebook, prompting you to look upward. The sight of Harry in your sweatshirt made your heart skip a beat. “Peter left early,” he whispered to not be kicked out of the library, cellphone in hand. “He took my car.”

You nodded, aware of his eyes being on you. “I’m almost done.”

“Want me to ask for an Uber?”

“I can walk,” you assured him, scribbling down the answer you were halfway through. Gloomy days had never bothered you, they were common for you.

You waved at Ned goodbye as you walked across the hallway, the shorter man lifted an eyebrow upon realizing Harry and you were truly holding hands. You had to keep the act up, of course, people would talk about a supposed break up otherwise. You cursed, making Harry worriedly gaze at you.

“You’ll have to carry my cellphone this time around,” you explained. “These pants don’t have pockets and it can crack in my backpack.”

He extended his free palm for you to place the device on it. Sliding it into his pocket carefully, he continued walking.

The first two minutes of walk toward the compound were silent until he took his AirPods out. “Wanna listen to some music?”

“Sure.” You stopped so he could choose a playlist in his phone as you slipped the AirPod he had offered in your ear.

His musical taste was as pleasant as his company, as mixed as his conversation. It made you wonder why Peter and Gwen didn’t spend more time with him. He wasn’t like everyone said at all, it was true he was distant most of the time and even more when he didn’t know people but you found that natural, he had many qualities and peculiarities that made him so unique... you had met many people in your life, you were good at reading them all and you got bored easily of them because of that. Harry wasn’t easy to read, and knowing him meant getting more interested in his intellect and how different it was from the people around you. He wasn’t dumb, and although a genius either, but he was knowledgeable enough in many topics, he had a way with words when he got comfortable and his opinions were quite radical for conventional expectations, he was sensitive and patient, — you utterly adored that about him, much to your dismay.

Humming to the songs both knew, you swung your clasped hands a little bit. Upon approaching the compound your steps slowed down to finish the current song, something that had happened so often throughout the walk that his car was already parked outside.

“You came here on foot in this weather?” A familiar voice screeched as you closed the door.

You stopped abruptly at that. Fuck, fuck, fuck, this was worse than liking Harry. “Dad,” you greeted through a small smile, letting your fake boyfriend’s hand go. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I texted you an hour ago.” Your dad’s eyes were on you, brows lifted in expectancy of an explanation.

Harry handed you your cellphone so you could check. Pressing the button to look down at the screen you found a photo of your own self as a lock screen. It had been taken earlier, and you had to admit he was right when he said he was good at taking photos, the lighting in the school’s library wasn’t ideal and still, the angle was so good you didn’t look as bad as you often did and the way you were looking up —surely at him— made your eyes shine.

“Sorry,” Harry apologized behind you, “I gave you mine.”

You turned around to face him, “didn’t we talk about... that?”

He nodded, taking his cellphone from your hand and placing yours instead. “We said I wouldn’t put (Your Favorite Artist) in a plaid shirt as a lock screen.”

“We said you wouldn’t put me.”

“We said you wouldn’t send me a photo of yours to put, never that I couldn’t take it and put it.”

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, you nodded. He was right, you should have been more specific. The short conversation wasn’t helping your case, now your dad knew something was going on between you two and you didn’t want him to; it was fake, and you didn’t want to introduce your dad to a fake boyfriend when the relationship wouldn’t last more than a few weeks more because of its nature. To be fair, it would last only a few weeks even if it was real but the point stood, strongly.

You felt so small you could’ve scurried off and in your mind, no one would even realize. Both men stared at each other with curiosity, your dad was trying to intimidate Harry and it would have worked if he hadn’t been Norman Osborn’s son.

Gwen, God bless her, cut through the slight tension. “Your dad was telling us you liked to play doctor as a ki—“ the blonde’s eyes widened as she stood in front of you when your dad moved out of the way to look at her as she spoke, the sight of Harry’s attire wasn’t one she had expected. “Did you wear... your girlfriend’s clothes to school?”

Harry cleared his throat, “out of coincidence.” He nodded to make emphasis, avoiding looking at anyone in particular.

Peter called for Harry. “Can I talk to you in private, Har?”

The tallest young man nodded, casting you a sideways glance. You blinked rapidly, too nervous suddenly. There was nothing wrong with sharing clothes, and Peter knew the reason why you had lent Harry a sweatshirt in the first place — why did you feel like you’d get an anxiety attack at any moment?

Peter leaned against the closed door, crossing his arms against his chest — he knew Harry wouldn’t be intimidated, but he had to get the point across of how serious the topic would be. Harry lifted his eyebrows, signaling for Pete to start talking.

“What are you doing, Harry?” Harry just stared at his best friend. Peter set his jaw. “I told you to stay away from her, and now you’re wearing her clothes to school!”

“She’s my girlfriend,” Harry defended his actions. “You share clothes with Gwen, why can’t I share clothes with (Y/N)?”

“That’s not the point! The point is you shouldn’t be dating her.”

’Here we go again’ Harry thought. Peter had annoyed him with that every time he stared at you, even when he didn’t do it on purpose. “Why, Peter? I’m not forcing her!”

“Because it’s weird! You’re like my brother and she’s like my sister, I know the two of you very well and I know you’re not right for each other.”

Harry huffed, pinching his nose to keep himself from rolling his eyes. “You and Gwen keep saying that but you never say why!” He exploded. “Peter, I adore you, man, but only (Y/N) and I know how our relationship is like.”

“I’m worried,” Peter hurried to explain. It was clear he didn’t mean to offend Harry. “Maybe at least take it slower? She needs a lot of patience, more than we can give her.”

Harry didn’t really get why Peter was telling him the same Gwen did days ago, but he nodded in understanding. His best friend pushed himself off the door and opened it, letting him out of the room first.

The living room was dead silent. Harry observed you weren’t there, but your belongings were. Gwen nodded upward, toward the hallway you had guided him through after your first ‘date’. Seeing him tilt his head, she withdrew her cellphone. His own device buzzed in his jean pocket.

Backyard

He found you with your back against the wall, cornered near the outdoor table. As he got closer , he saw the slight shake of your upper body. Harry silently sat beside you, trying not to stare too much so you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. From the corner of his eye, he caught the tremble of your lip and how you bit down into it — he hated that you were trying not to cry in front of him.

You were angry. Gwen had tried to apologize for her impressed state but it was of no use, your dad asked why didn’t he know about your boyfriend which angered you, he hadn’t called in a month — how could you say anything if he didn’t contact you? Your cold answer had been that the relationship was very new, but instead of moving on your dad had to make a comment about how it seemed like it had been longer.

It was like everyone was trying to decide how you should live your life or how you should develop your relationships. You understood that it looked like Harry and you were moving fast, but it wasn’t real — it wasn’t real and it bothered you which made it more fucked up.

The cataclysm was the inquiry that came before that. Your dad had asked if you were happy, prompting Gwen and Tony to perk up to stare at you. All that focus on you had made you nervous, so you explained you were comfortable. It hadn’t been enough for your dad who insisted on speaking about your happiness.

You hadn’t expected him to push it, and you didn’t know where the question had come from when he implied the relationship was too volatile due to its newness. His severe look as he reminded you how fast you were moving had been too shocking, and so you exploded, done with the stupid conversation already, saying you didn’t know if you had ever been happy.

Your own comment had dawned on you like an ice-cold water bucket poured harshly onto the head. It had soaked you in sudden anguish, adding itself to the list of things that chilled you to the bone although this one felt deeper, it seeped into every fiber of your being and still had enough composition to leak in the form of tears.

Harry got closer to you, wrapping an arm around you to pull you even closer. “It’s okay,” Harry murmured. His free hand slid up to trail up and down your back.

You shook your head, it was everything but okay. You didn’t dare to tell him and prayed for the first time in years that no one in the living room had.

The memory of the last time you prayed only worsened your state. You did the only thing that came to your mind and threw your arms around his shoulders, with your face hidden in the crook of his neck as you continued crying.

He massaged the nape of your neck softly with the hand that had been on your upper back. Harry wasn’t very good at consoling people, he was only doing what he would’ve liked someone to do with him. Feeling you sob, he tightened the arm around you to muffle your cries.

“Harry, let me calm her down,” Bucky, whom Harry hadn’t heard come outside, muttered, “she can get angry and it’s not—“ he interrupted himself when the young man shook his head.

Your hands started shaking at Bucky’s words and Harry didn’t think to let you go would help. He realized that when Gwen told him you had deep issues she had meant anger issues or something of sorts by the way Bucky was staring at your back as if you would explode at any second.

Slowly shifting to a kneeling position on the concrete, he flushed your body to his, your face fell onto his shoulder and slid to his chest. He rocked you lightly, only enough for the movement to be processed by your brain without startling you. He knew it would work, he had seen you rock yourself sideways a few times.

As your sobs simmered down, the shake of your hands did too and you placed them firmly on his shoulders. Parting from him to sniff comfortably, you avoided his eyes.

He kissed your forehead, shushing you from apologizing. He would’ve done that at least, and the thought of you doing it almost broke him there. He withdrew an arm off you, tightening the other one so you wouldn’t move. Taking his cellphone out, he texted Gwen again so his friend would bring him his backpack.

Gwen hurried to do it, holding it for him to open it.

“There are Kleenex in the front pocket, give me a few?”

The blonde worked quickly, withdrawing the pocket-sized pack of Kleenex and retrieving a couple from it. Harry took them with his free hand, wiping your tears slowly to not hurt your skin. You giggled nervously when he tried cleaning your nose, snatching the Kleenex from his hand to do it yourself.

You mumbled that you needed to wash your face, prompting him to nod as he moved his arm away from your body. Harry followed you inside, telling you he would be back in a few minutes as you made your way toward the elevator to get to your room.

Washing your face wouldn’t be enough. You needed a hot shower and a Xanax. For the second one, you would have to eat something first but that could be fixed later. The hoodie you took off carefully, laying it softly on the bed. Kicking your sneakers off, you peeled yourself off the remaining clothes quickly, desperate to feel clean again.

The sense of dirtiness didn’t have to do with Harry, or with anyone downstairs. The realization that you had never experienced happiness, that realistically your chances of ever doing it were pretty low... it was too much. It made you feel less than nothing— dirty for once thinking you could be normal, have normal relationships like everyone else did.

One thing, out of the multiple ones, you had always enjoyed of taking showers was its sound and how it could be confused with rain if you closed your eyes tightly enough. Opening the shower, you got in immediately and allowed yourself to breathe slowly.

You were getting dressed when someone knocked on your door, presumably to check on you. Hurrying to get into a pair of shoes, you left the walk-in closet, crossed the bedroom, and swung the door open.

“Hi, so...” Harry scratched the back of his head, worriedly examining your face. “I don’t know which soup is your favorite and I can’t make your favorite soup if I don’t know which is it, can I?”

You stuttered, confused by the fact that he wanted to cook for you. “Uh— you don’t have to.”

“I want to, tell me.”

Sighing heavily, you lifted a hand only to slap it down against your thigh and simply told him what to add and how.

“Got it!” He assured, turning on his heel to go back downstairs.

Harry trotted down the stairs quickly, skipping a few steps. He could feel Peter and Gwen staring at him, sat around the dining table to have a better view. It should’ve made him feel nervous but he felt confident he would do it fine, the instructions were clear and he wasn’t stupid.

What compelled him to make soup for his fake girlfriend who had cried her soul out while clinging to him earlier was a mystery. A mystery as scary as welcomed. He was starting to enjoy showing more of himself to you and in consequence to the people involved in your daily lives — a sharp contrast to what he felt on Saturday. Aware of that, he wondered if he should say something about it.

In three days you would be sat in front of his dad. In three days you would be scared off. In three days he would be back to feel alone. He would lose the warmth and scent he liked so much, the complicit looks, the music recommendations, the intellectual stimulation, the hope for everything to be okay one day.

He wished there was a way to keep it from happening, but the odds were against him. His only chance was that you’d be willing to keep faking it, and how fine he was with just that startled him.

You hesitated going downstairs when you were summoned but ultimately decided to do it so Harry wouldn’t feel bad. Gwen lightly patted your thigh as you sat down in a kind gesture that you realized meant she was glad you were feeling better. She didn’t tell you anything directly, but she very nicely started speaking to everyone around the table so they wouldn’t bother you while you ate.

Harry sat to your other side, participating in the conversation and sporadically giving you his attention to making sure you were okay.

“I think your soup is better than mine,” you communicated to him when you walked him out.

He breathed a laugh, looking down so the blue-ish light wouldn’t highlight his blush. “I’m glad you liked it.”

You nodded, “thank you for going through all that trouble. You didn’t have to.”

He lifted his gaze, leaning more comfortably on the hood of his car. “It wasn't troubling at all.” Harry then added, not able to help it, “are you feeling better?”

No, you weren’t. There were so many things wrong, you would have to face your dad as soon as Harry was on his way home, an explanation as to what was going on with you would ruin everything you had built in the past months, and then... then there was something you could’ve avoided — you were sure you had a crush on your fake boyfriend, also sure he didn’t have a crush on you; you were certain he was into Gwen and had the suspicion the fake dating thing was his attempt of making the blonde jealous. You didn’t blame him, even you thought Gwen was perfect.

“Yeah,” you faked a tight smile. “Nothing a good cry can’t fix.”

He nodded, slowly moving his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Harry cursed himself for sounding as unsure as hopeful.

“Have a good night,” you wished him, turning on your heel to get back into hell on earth.

That was an exaggeration, yet you didn’t care because it would feel just like it. But your reality hadn’t changed, you still didn’t know if you had ever felt happiness, you still felt like something was wrong with you, and you still felt there was a piece missing in your life — you had lost so much already that you couldn’t put your finger on what said piece could be nor where could it fit. You just knew you wished it wouldn’t matter.

[matkomakto]

How was it to be a volunteer in Italy?

In this post I want to describe my experience as an AIESEC volunteer in Bologna (I posted a lot during this period on my Instagram). My project was related to SDG4, or in other words Quality Education. The name of my NGO is EduChange. What I did in practice was teaching English and giving presentations about Poland and Polish culture to Italian children at the age of 9-10 (and once 14, but that’s a different story). I will put a line now, so that if you’re not interested you won’t have to scroll like crazy.

ARRIVAL

I don’t want to describe the whole procedure of applying, it’s very easy and nothing really happens. Before you leave you have two meetings - one in your local AIESEC and the other via Internet with the one you’re going to. My journey starts on January, 17th. In the morning I entered a bus to Kraków, from where I departed at 4pm to Venice, and then to Bologna. Venice welcomed me with rain (I got a little cold because of that, but Gripex saved my life once again) and so did Bologna. The whole journey took 26 hours (yes, I went by bus and you can’t judge me). Somewhere on my way my first host-mum, Mary, messaged me wishing me a good journey and asking if I was safe (and in this sentence you have everything about this woman - always kind and caring <3). A few hours later, my other host-mum, Chiara, who was supposed to take me from the station messaged me too. At the station I was welcomed by Chiara and Matilde, one of my new sisters (in general, now I have 3 sisters and 1 brother). In the car I met Davide, dad, and Carlotta, my other sister (or daughter, as some people would say). After a short conversation, I realised we were in the house of Mary, where I was about to spend next 3 weeks of my life. I was tired af, but it’s understandable, I think. I messaged my buddy, Marie Claire (oh, haven’t told you about her — a buddy is a person from bolognese AIESEC, who takes care of you, a kind of nanny I’d say) and my manager, Sofia. And then I had dinner and went to sleep. I was sleeping from 14.00 till 11.00 on Sunday. I had no idea what would happen next.

FERRARA

I woke up when nobody was at home. It was a bit creepy tbh. On the table I found a note “We’ll be home at 12, eat anything you want” (I didn’t, my stomach was still acting as if I were in the bus). When the whole family, it means — Mary, Andrea, Athina and Achille, came back, they told me “We’re going to Ferrara”. I thought “What is Ferrara?”. It’s a beautiful town near Bologna, where we spent an amazing afternoon. I didn’t know anything about this town, and even if Mary and Andrea tried their best as guides, I spent a whole evening using Google Maps to identify objects I had seen. Among them were the Cathedral, Palazzo Muncipale, Castello Estense, Palazzo dei Diamanti and Via delle Volte. I ate a delicious cake, which name I don’t remember, filled with Nutella. Achille kept complaining “Maddalena’s cake is the best!” (they all  ok, almost all called me Maddalena, which is Italian version of Magdalena). In the evening we played all three in the living room and I was texted by Serena, an English teacher from one schools I was going to teach in, also one of my best bolognese friends. With her message I became both excited and anxious about the next day.

FIRST DAY(S)

All the anxiety disappeared when I entered the first school. The children were so lovely and cheerful that I fell in love with them (in a good meaning ofc) instantly. On the first lesson I was just sitting and doing nothing. Then, Serena came, and I was helping her to answer children’s questions during a final test. Believe me, there were hundreds of them. I came home tired, but happy. And finally I became hungry and ate everything I was offered (I always have a problem with eating far from home). The next day meant another school. It was less pleasant as a building, as Mary described it - it looked more like a hospital. Nevertheless, both the teachers and the students again were pure love. In the canteen I sat with 5 boys, who were supposed to make an interview with me. I felt as if I had been watching Familiada live. Then, one of the teachers came to our table hugging one boy saying “Ask him as often as you can. He’s my son”. Lovely, isn’t it? XD In the next class two girls came to me, giving me a drawing (I have it still in my diary). When I asked in Italian if it was for me, I heard a loud, full of shock “LEI CAPISCEEEEEEEEE”. One of the funniest things during these first days is that nobody knew I spoke Italian, and seeing their faces as they discovered it was a very entertaining activity. Wednesday was my day out, I’ll describe it later. On Thursday and on Friday I went to the third school. I ended up in Athina’s class and believe me, it’s really hard to be in one class with your sibling. Fun fact, both English teachers in that school are Rosannas, which confused me a bit these days.

DISCOVERING BOLOGNA

Finally, on my free Wednesday I got an opportunity to go to the centre. I remember my heartbeat when the bus no.13 entered the centre, it was fulfilling of a dream I made as a 13-year-old girl. I walked through Via d’Azeglio and found myself in Piazza Maggiore. Do you remember that scene from Home Alone, where Kevin realises he’s home alone and walks along screaming as crazy? It was me at the moment (but I screamed internally, don’t be scared). I entered Basilica (which I loved and I came back there several times, even twice on the same day). When I went out, I met Marie Claire. She was my guide that day, we had a great time as she showed me Bologna and its 6 secrets (google it). Later I was supposed to go on an AIESEC meeting (there were 2 meetings and Global Village). I continued my trip around city centre from Saturday till Monday, even if the weather wasn’t as great as on Wednesday. Also, on Saturday we spent a few hours “occupando Italia in un Irish pub” with other volunteers. On that day I discovered KIKO Milano, which is now my #1 makeup brand, I’m addicted to it, sorry if I’m a disappointment.

WEEK #2

I was about to write “Nothing interesting really happened”. But damn, I survived a power shortcut in one of the schools, I ate a true Italian pizza and gelato for the first time, I prepared 120 minutes of lesson in 5 minutes because the teacher was absent, I got engaged into “International Mother Tongue Day” organised by one of my schools, I bought a pair of beautiful shoes, I started to enjoy my new social life (volunteers, ily’all and miss y’all <3) and I managed to organise my first trip completely on my own. If that’s nothing then I don’t know what it is. Oh yes, my famous trips, or as I heard from some people “you have too much money”. Let’s remember the first one.

ROME

No matter how hard I try to overcome it, the very first thing I remember about Rome is the pain in my feet. If you’re ever in Rome, please children, don’t go there in brand-new shoes and try not to walk 21,5 km in a single day. As a true Polish, I will start with complaining. I waited 1,5h for a bus and it didn’t have a machine to buy tickets, as they have in Bologna (Bologna-Rome 1:0). On Saturday, despite not the best weather, I made a beautiful trip from Basilica Papale di Santa Maria Maggiore, through Colloseum, Forum Romanum, Altare della Patria, Palazzo Colonna, Fontanna di Trevi, Piazza Navona, Castel Sant’Angelo to the Vatican City and its museum (I have an illegal photo from Sistine Chapel, but shh). My friends volunteers, who also were in Rome, wanted me to go with them to Trastevere, but believe me, I was dying. The next day I did the check out before 8am and I enjoyed empty Rome on Sunday morning, it was amazing. I visited Trinità dei Monti. It was almost empty, @turbinis​ told me I was very lucky, so I will make you see how my luck looks like:

INDEED.IT.WAS.EMPTY.AND.ONE.HOUR.LATER.I.CAME.BACK.THERE.AND.IT.WAS.FULL.OF.PEOPLE.

WEEK #3

In one class there was a Polish boy. Whenever I saw him, he was yelling “CZEEEŚĆ” and whenever I told something about Poland all the children looked at him in the way “Do you confirm what she’s saying?” This week also brought me two great memories with my bro, Achille. He was sick and out of school and this week he was supposed to be back. He was a bit depressed and thought he would have to study all night. Oh, I forgot about the deep existential question he asked me two weeks before: “Have you ever loved someone on this Earth?”. Deep, you must admit. Another time, he was watching cartoons. When his cartoon ended, they started a cartoon for younger kids. He got offended, switched off the tv and took off the battery from the remote control, because “he won’t watch things for babies”. I remember that one day I became extremely hungry and the next day I went to Café Zamboni (coming back from Pinacoteca, which was amazing btw) and ate so much, that I could barely walk XD. I started realising that I want to go to Erasmus here. It was also a week of Sanremo, I remember with laugh how Athina tried to show her dad the performance of Achille Lauro and poor babbo was running away from her and her phone (I was team Gabbani, although now, when I’m writing this, I hear a loud “FAAAAAI RUMOOORE QUIIIII”). On Friday I got compliments from Rosanna and Rosanna for being a good teacher. They really liked how I had substituted Rosanna#1 the week before. Having my wings grown, I started my next trip, using Frecciarossa for the first time.

NAPLES

Although you may not believe it, it was the first time I had seen the sea. Moreover, I saw it for the first time in the same place as did Elena Greco in “L’amica geniale”, but I realised it a few weeks later. Getting out of the hostel, I went down Via Toledo, Galleria Umberto I, Castel Nuovo to Piazza del Plebiscito. I swear, I will fight anyone who says that Naples is dirty/ugly/both. Also, everyone was telling me about thieves, but somehow I didn’t get stolen. After I finished a gelato on Piazza, I went to the sea. It was one of the most beautiful feelings I’ve ever experienced. I thought “Screw all the sightseeing, you will do it tomorrow. Enjoy the sea today”, and so I did. I followed Lungomare all the time, passing along Castel dell’Ovo to the Mappatella beach. As it was the first time I saw the sea, the beach was also a whole new experience. Kids, never ever go to the beach in winter shoes, did you know? Because I didn’t. Probably I would watch a sunset there, but I got a bit scared with all those theft-stories and I was in the hostel before it got dark (I watched the sunset on Piazza del Plebiscito though). On Sunday I went from Santa Maria del Carmine, via Via San Biagio dei Librai and Via dei Tribunali to the Cathedral, Piazza Nazionale and train station. I arrived in Bologna at 11pm tired, but happy.

WEEK #4

In the middle of my stay, I moved to my second host family. At the beginning it was a bit weird (just like every time you change your life 180°). Everything changed the next evening, when I stayed home alone with my sisters and their nanny. We had a great time playing games and joking. Although I’m still ashamed that I lose in Mario, which was the game of MY childhood :C. That week another AIESEC meeting took place. Even two meetings, because on February, 14th there was a Global Village. It was a great event, even if I couldn’t enjoy it till the end, because the next day I had to wake up early. For the train. Btw, it was a Valentine’s Day, wasn’t it? I received some sweet cards from my students and it made my heart melt. After school we met with Marie Claire, who showed me something that now I miss a lot - tigelle.

FLORENCE

I woke up with a strong “oh shit” feeling. But as I realised I’m going to Florence, I got up and got ready in 20 minutes. Everyone was still sleeping, though I woke up Chiara when I tried to open the door. It was a cursed day for trains, I think. The train to Florence had too few wagons (I was assigned #9, but there were only 7, though they let me in) and the train from Florence was 40min delayed (I got into precisely on time I should get off in Bologna). I spent a wonderful day, mostly contemplating Il Duomo. Seriously, I took 42 photos of it, which makes almost a half of all photos taken in Florence. I can’t resist to put here at least one:

When I arrived to Ponte Vecchio, I saw a beautiful exhibition of jewelry. Really, it was so beautiful, that I couldn’t stop watching it. I even took a photo of it. As I started to continue my trip I said to myself “Magdalena, you will regret it till the end of your life!” So I came back and bought one bracelet. For 130€. Do I regret it? No. Would I regret if I hadn’t bought it? Yes. I will even show it to you.

One of the most important highlights is the visit to Capelle Medicee - if you ever go to Florence, go there, it costs only 2€ if you’re below 25 (or 26 idk). I enjoyed an amazing view from Giardini Boboli, saw another Neptun Fountain (like, Italians, aren’t you done with them yet???) and took a rest in front of Santa Croce. As a nice finish, I watched the sunset by the Cathedral.

WEEK #5

That Sunday (yes, now I start with Sunday, why not) Chiara woke me up early in the morning and we went to Matilde’s training (she plays rugby and btw Athina plays tennis and Carlotta does skating, I’m really proud of them). After the match (Matilde’s team won ofc) we went to Chiara’s parents. Oh my, I had never thought that people who had never seen me before would treat me as if I were their granddaughter, because that’s what I felt. I don’t remember if I ever had such a dinner, in such an atmosphere. I miss nonna’s tortellini, no one will ever prepare me better ones. In the evening, we played Dixit (a bit of Katowice flashback), the best game ever and don’t even try to say something different. Monday and Tuesday were the days of saying goodbye, since next week these days were supposed to be free. On Wednesday I spent a nice afternoon/evening with Heloísa, my Brasilian friend. We both didn’t know then that we will miss going out so much. On Thursday and on Friday I was a bit sick, I don’t know whether it was just a cold, a beginning of flu or covid-19, which everyone believes me to have had. Nevermind, on Saturday I was completely well.

SAN LUCA

San Luca is a sanctuary located on a hill near Bologna. You can go there on foot, through 666 “portici”. So did I with my host-mom Chiara and Carlotta. It was a beautiful, sunny day. I remember Carlotta running fast up the stairs and being tired when we went down. My sister has a big, pure heart. She gave her chocolate to a homeless man. Also, on that day she became my daughter. At least for the woman in the souvenir shop. (If you ask about Matilde, she was on a soccer game with her dad)

WEEK #6 HOW IT ALL COLLAPSED

Here, I should describe my last week in Italy. But I won’t.

It all started on Sunday morning. I had bought train tickets to Venice and Rimini a few days before. Chiara said “Do you know, there are more and more cases of coronavirus in Venice, in the evening there will be an official communicate. Consider not going there tomorrow”. All I said was “Okay.”. But really, I had no fear of this virus, I even thought I would take advantage of it, because panic means it will be less crowded, no? In the afternoon I went to the centre. In Piazza Maggiore, Via dell’Indipendenza and near the Two Towers people were celebrating the end of the carnival. As I don’t like crowded spaces, I went for a walk near Via San Vitale and Strada Maggiore. As the sun started to set, I decided to go back home. I received a message from AIESEC members that all schools in Emilia Romagna are closed. “A whole free week, cool” I thought. But as the new messages appeared I realised, that there would be no Venice tomorrow. They wrote “Please, don’t travel”. But then it was not my problem. I wanted to get into a bus, but somehow all the bus stops were empty. I had to go back on foot. Have I mentioned that I lived about 5 km from the centre? So, it was a long walk. As I walked, I tried to think what I would do for a whole week as probably the girls will go to grandparents’ and Chiara and Davide have their works. With Chiara we made a decision, I have to go back to Poland. We contacted a few members, about an hour later I had new bus tickets on my phone. We went to a supermarket, it was as if a war was coming. 5 minutes before closing the shop was full of people. And empty on shelves a few minutes later. At 10pm we drove to grandparents to leave the girls there. It was one of the hardest farewells in my life. You can ask why, they are not even your family. Maybe because I remember Carlotta’s words, when they both occupied the whole sofa and I asked “Oh, there’s no longer place for me, is there?” she answered “There will always be a place for you here”. Maybe because I remember Matilde’s head on my shoulder when we were on the way. Maybe because I remember how grandma treated me as her real granddaughter giving me some food and her confitures to Poland. Maybe because all these people showed me more familiar love and affection in these 5 weeks than I received from my real family. Maybe because they still text me asking how I’m doing. Maybe.

I stayed awake till 3am, making my suitcase and handbags. On Monday I went to school, which was closed, to make a closing meeting and to say goodbye to my first host-family. I went for a last coffee and pizza to my favourite restaurant nearby and came back home. I watched tv all the afternoon and had a farewell-pizza as a supper (2 pizzas in a day, very healthy, Magdalena). On Tuesday at 6am I was in a bus heading to Prague and then to Kraków. Instead of watching the sea in Rimini, I was watching some fields somewhere between Kraków and my town.

To make a happy end, it was the time of my life, I’d write something better here but it’s almost 1:30am when I write this, so sorry :C

[violet-knox]

Land of the Unexpected

Year 6 - Chapter 50

Summary: Taking a lunch break, you and Severus take a walk to a nearby park.

Word count: 3046

Previous Chapter - Chapter 1 

~

Severus grabbed two more copies of The Shining, stuffed them into the new release section before grabbing the box carrying extra copies and made his way to the backroom. His eyes immediately found your figure hunching over several boxes, organizing the pile of books behind you. His lips twitched into a smile as he watched your focus and dedication narrow on the task at hand. These last few weeks had been heaven like for Severus. Spending all of Sundays through Thursdays with you. Sure it wasn’t anything compared to the time you’d spend in Hogwarts but considering the fact that school was out and you wouldn’t be able to go back anytime soon, the time you spent in this bookstore was more than a blessing. 

The argument he had with his parents the day he came home with the news had been one of the worst he’d seen to date. But if there was any fight worth baring it would be the one giving him the chance to work with you. His wit stayed in focus as he watched the spiral of anger his father emitted blast through the living room when he stated the fact that he’d be working at a bookstore rather than take part in the annual tradition of spending most of his time filing box after box of cigarette packs.

His hand went straight to his back pocket where he’d stashed his wand when the man playing his father abruptly stood from his armchair and rushed towards him. His mother’s eyes widened in shock when she saw Severus reaching for his wand, placing herself between them before her only son did something so foolish as to strike down a muggle. 

It was all such a blur now. His mother commanding he go to his room. He’d never seen her so protective before that night. He’d in fact never seen her act so cautious of him before and never had he imagined listening to her actually defend him once he left. It was hard to hear what she was saying at first, her voice strangely calm, or perhaps she was too frightened of the situation to raise her voice. But as the minutes went by, he could hear her stern comments vibrating through the walls. She’d told him off. Standing up for her son, something Severus didn’t think her capable of doing, but she’d done it. And before he knew it, the house had finally settled, his father resuming his act of pretending like Severus didn’t exist, even more so than usual and he’d happily gone to work the next day, loaded with caffeine in the hopes that you wouldn’t catch his lack of sleep and asked what happened the night before. 

But of course, you had. And the truth came stumbling from his mouth as he shared every detail of the horrific event. It was worth it, he’d told you. And he meant it.

“Where should I place these?” he asked as he approached you, gesturing to the box in his hand. You stood up and peered inside before pointing to a corner near the door. 

His parents, his home at Spinner’s End was never a topic he enjoyed discussing, especially after listening to his peers in Slytherin talk about their fortune, their glamorous life outside of Hogwarts. He’d shut down, changed his willingness to talk about his muggle life after that, even around Lily. But it was different with you. His relationship with you was nothing he’d ever experienced before. He felt comfortable with you, like he could tell you anything and be spared from the judgment he knew he would get from others. 

He loved how you’d run your fingers through his hair as he told you about his father's rage and his mother’s neglect. He couldn’t get enough of the small touches you gave when he mentioned how his mother finally stepped forward only to stop him from pulling out his wand. The gentle smile you gave him at the end of his story was something he’d always cherish. 

“Ready for lunch?” he asked as he watched you remove the cap from the marker you held and write something on the side of the box you’d just closed.

“Just give me a few more minutes,” you replied, “I want to finish organizing this pile before we take a break.” You clicked the marker cap back in place before you began going through the last stack of books, placing the appropriate titles in a new box while the others were stashed away in the corner to be organized later. 

Severus stood there admiring you work so hard, putting so much effort into the task you’d been handed by the owner. He had to admit, when Mr.Davis first approached you about reorganizing the entire backroom all on your own, he thought it a bit absurd. The room held way too many books for one person to go through on their own, but lo and behold, you’d managed to get through a little more than a quarter of the room over the last two weeks, supposedly without the use of magic (or so you’d told him).  

“Can I help?” he said, walking towards you, eyeing the three boxes you’d sealed shut. 

You took a moment before you looked up and registered his offer. Glancing over to the boxes you had stacked to your left, you nodded your head. “Can you put those boxes away on the third shelf to the right?” you asked, accepting his helping hand. Severus leaned down and picked up all three boxes at once, missing how easy magic made such tasks. 

It was a shame really you two hadn’t gone to the wizarding world to find jobs, help you stay connected with the community over your summer break. Then again, the convenient location of this bookstore did help strengthen your relationship. 

“In alphabetical order please Severus!” you shouted just as he arrived at the shelves you’d mentioned. He glanced back, your face only just visible through the thin strip of air between the shelf and the books it held. 

Severus placed the boxes on the floor, his smile returning as his fingers lingered over your writing, forever engraved in the box on which it lay. He quickly picked up the first box and slide it in place before searching the location of the second, then the third. 

Just as he walked back over, he saw you putting away the last box before turning to face him. Perhaps you had managed to organize the books without the use of magic. “I believe it’s your turn today, right?”

He stepped forward and pulled you in for a quick kiss, humming as he parted. Severus took your hand and you both made your way to the very back of the room where you’d kept your belongings. Severus leaned down and removed a brown paper bag from his backpack while you removed your nametag. Severus handed you the bag in his hand and did the same before you both made your way out of the backroom and made your way towards the exit.  

Walking up the street, watched for cars as you both made your way across, you headed to the nearby park located behind the bookstore. Others probably would have been sick of spending every single lunch, five days a week in the same spot, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. It was rather the company you kept than the location itself that mattered. The change of scenery and fresh air was a mere bonus. 

You tightened your grip on the little brown bag you held, wondering what Severus brought you today. The system you’d put in place, though convenient, had you feeling a little guilty. Yes, it was only fair to take turns bringing lunch for one another; you on Monday and Wednesday, Severus Sunday and Tuesday while Thursday interchanged between the both of you each week. But he had to get up early every morning when it was his turn to make lunch, careful not to wake his parents. He’d naturally reassured you, telling you he’d been using magic to make lunch and thus cutting the prep time in half. But you still felt so uneasy, as if he was risking breaking house rules all so you could have a bite to eat when lunch came round. 

As you took a seat at your usual lunch spot, placing the bag between you both, Severus took out a sandwich and handed it to you. You smiled in gratitude, unwrapped it and took a bite. 

“Did your mom make these?” you asked before taking another bite. It was a simple ham and cheese sandwich, but you could tell it wasn’t him who’d prepared it because Severus would normally cut off the crust, something you found rather charming. 

“Why? Do you hate my cooking that much?” he teased. 

“No!” you said, lightly shoving him, a small chuckle vibrating against your throat. “I just know your style.”

Severus smiled as he took a bite of his own sandwich. “Yeah, she made them,” he averted his gaze as he shifted a little. “Actually, there’s something I should tell you.”

You looked up from your lunch, wide eyed as his voice dropped. Something was wrong, or rather, something had changed, and you couldn’t tell whether the news he had to share was good or bad.

“What is it?” you asked, giving him your full undivided attention. 

“My dad left us.”

You froze in shock as your hands slowly lowered, weakly resting on your lap. Your eyes desperately scanned his face, instinctively trying to find the sorrow you knew any child would feel at the sight of a parent’s abandonment, but of course, you found nothing of the sort. “Sev-” you whispered. 

“No, it’s a good thing.” He shook his head, noticing the pity in your eyes. “He was a deadbeat anyways. All he ever did was yell at everything. The house is quiet now and my mum is finally getting a full night's rest.”

“That’s good to hear,” you said, giving him a sheepish smile as you gently placed your hand over his. He looked down and tightened his grasp around your fingers, leaning into the comfort you never failed to provide.  

You hadn’t heard anything too cheery about Tobias Snape. The little you knew about him said he wasn’t much of a father to Severus and you’d always resented him ever since the first day of fifth year when Severus had shown up bruised. The happiest memory you’d been told of was the dinner spent in absolute silence the first day he’d come home after working at Mr.Davis’ Bookshop which really said something. Though none of the things you were told would have you believe him to be a deadbeat, you could tell Severus felt much happier with him gone and you were glad his mother was still around and seemingly paying more attention to him. 

“How are you feeling about this?” you whispered as you moved your hand up, resting it under his chin as your thumb gently swept over his cheek. Severus met your gaze and smirked at your compassion towards him. Was it possible to fall in love with someone all over again without actually ever falling out of love? 

“I’m fine (Y/N). I’m happy.” He reassured you and you finally felt the tension in your shoulders lift as you resumed devouring your lunch. 

He sure seemed much happier today and this would explain his mother’s sudden interest in his life, making lunches, asking about his day, investing in his personal life when Severus had told you she’d never had such inclinations before. You began to wonder if something had happened while you were in school, whether his mother had some sort of epiphany causing her to change her attitude, ultimately resulting in the end of her marriage. 

“Mum wants to return to her potions career, now that my father’s gone,” Severus told you as you walked beside him, watching as he threw the crumpled up brown bag in the bin. 

“Oh?”

“She had to stop when she married my dad,” he continued as you slowly walked around the park for some fresh air before heading back to work. “But she has been out of practice for a while so I don’t know how easy it will be for her to get back into the field.”

“Well, if her skills are anything like yours, I’m sure she’ll very easily find a job.”

Severus still got so flustered whenever you complimented him, feeling he was undeserving of such praise. He held back a small smile, taking your hand as you walked side by side. He’d grown rather used to showing small tokens of affection in public. There was no harm in hand-holding, even if some members of the older generation shot them glances of disapproval. He was in love, and proud to have you by his side.  

“I hope she does,” he said, “Then maybe we can find a home in the wizarding world.” His tone emulated disgust, as if the town he lived in, the town you both shared was a burden he’d endured, happy to rid of it at his earliest convenience. 

You frowned, keeping your gaze to the ground as you continued onward. “You don’t like it here?” you mumbled. 

Severus snapped his attention towards you, your shriveled voice burning his ears. He’d upset you at the mention of moving away. Did you prefer living amongst muggles? Would that cause a problem between you after graduation? Would he have to pick between you and the wizarding world?

“It’s-It’s just that I prefer the wizarding world. Besides, my mother gave up a lot when she decided to live here. It would be nice if she regained some of what she lost”

“I know,” you replied, your eyes meeting his as you continued, “Still I’m glad she did. Otherwise I may have never met you.”

Severus chuckled as you made your way back to the crosswalk, heading back to the shop. 

“Speaking of…” his gaze returned to the ground as he spoke,  “She asked to have you over for dinner tonight.”

“She what?” your head shot in his direction and you watched as he uncomfortably shifted in his spot. Sure you’d been dating for a few months now and he’d spoken about his parents each time you’d asked, but you never imagined having to meet them so soon. 

“You don’t have to come” he quickly added as if he’d almost forgotten to take on an escape route to the trap he’d set. But watching him slouch a little lower than usual, you got the distinct impression he’d been forced to extend the invitation he offered. 

That house was nothing to be proud of. Nothing to flaunt, nothing to show any respectable guest. He’d thought his ears had betrayed him this morning when he heard the words stumble from his mother’s lips as she handed him the lunch she’d unexpectedly prepared. It was odd enough seeing her take out her wand to cook but to actually ask him to bring you over for dinner. It was a request he still could not wrap his brain around. What did she care who he dated? 

Better yet, how could she think he’d want to bring you to a house with nothing but bad energy surrounding it. Spinner’s End wasn’t a place locals like you would want to wander down, let alone enter a house located in the area. He didn’t want the impression of a poor neglected and abused boy etched into your brain when you saw him. He wanted to keep your view of him subjected to what you saw of him at Hogwarts; the intelligent, dedicated and loving boyfriend you’d come to accept into your life. 

“No, of course I’ll come. I’d be happy to.” Severus watched as your voice dropped, your hands brushing the worn jeans you wore, your eyes speaking words of worry and discontent. “It’s just.. Unexpected is all,” you said as you turned the corner after crossing the street, the entrance to the shop now in your line of sight. “Do you think we could pass by my place first before we head over to yours?” 

“You don’t have to worry about impressing her, you look fine,” he said, deducing your concern came from the impressionable outfit you seemed to prefer wearing when working at the bookshop.

“Can I change anyways?” you pleaded, hoping that a change of clothing would help ease the nerves prickling your skin. 

“Of course,” he shot you a reassuring smile as he held the door open for you. 

Greeting Mr.Davis, you both made your way back to the backroom to retrieve your nametags before heading back to work. Severus’ home situation went straight over your head as your thoughts filled with what you could possibly say to his mother when you met. Should you thank her for today’s lunch or was that too obviously nice? What would she think if you showed up in a knee length dress? You’d neglected to wash your hair today, would she be disappointed in your lack of grooming? 

Your thoughts swam as you tried to resume your work. But bringing your mind back into focus was surely one task you wouldn’t be able to accomplish. No spell to help you deal with your rising anxiety. You couldn’t even talk to Severus about how you felt. Watching his disappointment at the mention of you meeting his mother was hard enough, you couldn’t bear to see the reaction you’d get if you told him you were dreadfully nervous to meet his mother.  

With a deep breath you turned your attention back to the corner you’d placed yourself in, organizing books as Severus left the room. Peering over the titles of each book, you discreetly pulled out your wand and watched the books you wished to pull fly out of their respective locations and gently land at your feet before you took a seat and began rummaging through them. At least this bloody task would help provide some distraction as you did all you could to push the thought of tonight's upcoming events away and went back to work.

~

Next Chapter

~

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[teacherinthestreets]

“Appears to Be a Woman”

I set my alarm for 7am. My husband and I had the brooms out and ready. We figured, if we could wake up early on a Sunday to clean up Center City, we should do the same for Kensington. Plus, we’re homeowners in Fishtown and it feels like the neighborly thing to do. We walked under the El, sweeping up glass into piles, and at 9am I popped a headphone in my ear and joined my high school’s Monday morning meeting on Zoom. Since COVID closed down our schools, we’ve been meeting virtually. My colleagues shared their thoughts and feelings as we reflected on recent events. We’re all devastated by how especially scared and traumatized our Black and Brown students and their families must be. The general tone is of bewilderment. One colleague commented on the fact that her husband is a retired police officer and her family members are cops. She expressed her confusion and confoundment- police are trained to handle protesters so why are they doing this? 

We headed back home so I could join my students for virtual office hours. As a special education teacher who’s worked in Philadelphia for ten years, I’ve never struggled this much to entertain my students. By nature, I’m silly and a goofball. I tell jokes, don silly cat shirts, and wear a giant purple squid hat when the mood strikes. This is hard to convey online so I’ve resorted to playing lots of games on Kahoot! I always play with them and I always lose, but let’s pretend I lose on purpose. 

After the strange school day is done, my husband, friend and I head out on foot to the protest. There is a group of unions gathering together to discuss our role in advocating for change to support People of Color for the betterment of all. I’m wearing my Working Educators shirt, which is bright red and useful in case my friends and I get separated in the crowd. I could barely hear the speakers, but clapped heartily anyway. I saw a former student in the crowd and awkwardly air-hugged him. Then we began our march. Chanting loudly, sometimes in unison, and walking through the streets I love. I was flanked by two colleagues from school as well as my friends and husband. I felt that although this was something small, that’s how most revolutions succeed. Old, archaic systems are pulled asunder through death by a thousand cuts. My cut today was holding aloft my cute and colorful sign of the “This is Fine” dog. 

When our group crossed the Benjamin Franklin Parkway, we came to a halt. The police had blocked the bridge we intended to go over. We saw the group flood down the hill and onto 676. My husband and I held hands as we continued the march. What’s a little traffic to get the attention of hundreds for a worthy cause? We saw people in their cars lean out and shout, everything I heard was supportive, but then again I am trained to listen for the good and filter out the bad as there would be no way else to survive teaching high school students otherwise. As we walked under the overpass, I saw a wave of people running towards me. I froze. My husband grabbed me and helped me onto a ledge on the side of the road. When we could move again I saw a line of officers, clad in black. They were at the other end of the bridge so I couldn’t see anymore than that. Suddenly, a girl drops to her knees. She’s crying and bleeding, but I can’t tell from where. A fellow protestor reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle of water to help clean the wound. I turned and saw another fellow protester on the ground, holding his face. He looked unable to stand. I was scared so I started to leave him. There were people around, someone else would help him. I heard someone next to him yell, he’s been hit by rubber bullets and tear gas! Up to this point I didn’t realize we were being shot at. I paused, perplexed. I saw my husband see the man’s distress and move toward the prostrate figure. He picked up cardboard and used it to shield the man. In spite of my trepidation, I knew I had to help as my backpack was full of water and a first aid kit. I crouched down to assist, but we were all soon on our feet as we felt more rubber bullets fly passed us and the smell of tear gas was getting stronger. I felt nips at my ankles. Is that what a rubber bullet feels like? Unfortunately, I would soon find out.

The tear gas began flooding the street. My husband held my hand and we ran. With police surrounding us, we were forced up a hill and into a tall ten foot metal fence. As I stepped up to leave. Whap! I screamed out and fell to the ground. Something hit me in my back and the sting knocked the wind out of me. A fellow protestor to my right grabbed my arm to help me up. At this point, I see my husband and I have broken apart, but I can’t get back to him. I think I’m screaming or crying, maybe both. I breathe in the gas and think, this is how I die. I survived traveling the Middle East alone for a year and I die on the side of 676. I am bent over vomiting when an officer pushes me down to zip tie my hands behind my back. When I realize what is happening I ask him if I can get my ID from my bag which has fallen off when I was blindly and desperately searching for a bottle of water to douse my eyes with. He tells me, you don’t get shit. I ask him if it’s my right to have an ID on me (because I honestly don’t know). He responds angrily, saying I can’t get it. I take a step toward my bag and he pushes me down again and yells something. I’m shaking, begging him, please, please, please, I just want my ID. What if they arrest me and claim they don’t know who I am so I’m kept longer? Please, I beg again, I just want my ID. He tells me to stand up. I try to maneuver my way to standing while on a slant with my hands tied behind my back. The tear gas has got me spun around and sick. I can’t see and the pain in my back is incessant. I am almost up when I feel him push me back down. He then dragged me down the hill backward, over the branches and brambles. I wobbly stand once at the bottom of the hill and get in position. I am relieved even though there is vomit on my chin and snot is streaming down my face. The girl next to me asks if I’m ok and says she wishes she could help me wipe my nose. Some air is coming into my lungs. I start to feel like I might not die, only to realize that I am being arrested. 

My mom, dad, friends, family- they all told me to be safe. Be safe? I have never thrown a rock, or broken a window in my life. I’ve never shoved anyone, except when jokingly imitating Elaine from Seinfeld. Why should they be worried about my safety? I was there to support, but I don’t make messes. I help clean them up, that’s what I do. Now, I realize that was my privilege telling me I was safe. My cousin is a cop. I may be against the system, but individuals can see me for who I am: not a threat. That was my privilege. It told me the police would see I was peaceful and I would be fine. As I recall the screams and sobs now, I realize how very wrong I was. 

After I was bent over the median, my situation sunk in. I followed orders. Thanked every officer. Yes sir, thank you, sir. I was pat-down, but with no pockets and no bra, I was an easy search. We were moved to the middle of the road and sat on the median. The girl next to me asks me to look at her hand. She wants to know what color it is. It’s turning purple, I tell her. She tries to ask an officer for help. I ask a little louder. We are laughed at and she’s told that they’ll see her in the ICU. I look at the line of those zip-tied and try to see if my husband is there. When I don’t see him I search the crowd above, but my glasses are covered in chemicals. (It turns out he was up at the top of the hill screaming for me he was forced away by police.)

When we are loaded into the white school buses, I feel like I’m in a strange alternate universe. At this point in the school year, we would be taking field trips in a bus similar to this, but not as clean and devoid of bars. The girl behind me is texting on her cell phone backwards. She asks if she can text anyone for me. Oh my god, I’ve been with my husband for seven years and I never memorized his number. I give her my parents numbers and hope they will see the text during their Zoom birthday conference for my aunt. I am relieved when she tells me they responded. Phew. At least someone knows where I am. 

We sit on the bus, packed with women, ages ranging from early twenties to thirties. There are a few women crying, but everyone is encouraging each other. Someone asks if anyone has been arrested before. The girl next to me replies, does drunk and disorderly in college count? Everyone else shakes their heads no. 

When we reach the station they tell us we are going in five at a time to be processed. The girl who texted my parents for me asks for those who need medical support to let it be known so they can go first. I’m in awe that even in this stressful situation, she has the foresight to be so kind and compassionate towards everyone. 

As I am brought in to be processed, I remember my former student in the crowd. I wish I could see if he is ok. I continue to comply in my normal friendly and gracious manner. A young Black woman in my group of five asks why they need her address again. She’s got some flint in her voice, but she doesn’t curse and is respectful. The officers attempting to process her begin a back and forth at one point accusing her of probably never having a job in her whole life. When she asks why they would think that of her and asks whether it is because she is Black, several officers erupt into laughter and mockingly decry the stupidity of her comment. Her friend stands up in her defense and one of the officers tells her to sit her ass down or she can stay the night. He says they could use the company. He yells at her (and us) stating that this is what we get for breaking windows and causing a riot. They protest and are waved away and told to hush-up or they’ll be locked-up. 

The officer processing me is polite, when he asks my profession and I tell him I’m a teacher he perks up and asks where I teach. When I tell him he’s genuinely excited as our school is unique and has been a Philly landmark since the 50’s. I’m given my Code Violation Notice for “Failure to Disperse” (I laugh and think that they should give that to the fence for blocking my way, but also wondering if stopping us from dispersing was the point because trapping us on that hill sure felt like it). A polaroid photo of me is taken and a young officer writes my name on the bottom. They point me to the exit. I smile and thank everyone. Like they did me a favor. Like they didn’t have a hand in what I just experienced. 

I see the girl who texted my parents outside. She’s passing out water and waiting for her ride. She graciously lends me her phone and I call my mom. I tell her I’m ok, ask her to call my husband and give her my cross streets. I ask her to tell him that I’m just going to start walking home on Montgomery Ave.

I hear my husband’s emblematic “yeerrrp!” and turn around. He’s with two of my other friends who had been trying to retrieve my backpack. I don’t care they weren’t successful, their smiling faces let me know how lucky and loved I am. I think about how this was a strange experience for me, one that I will hopefully never experience again. One that I don’t have to live in fear with experiencing again. Again, I notice my privilege in a new and deeper way. It reminds me why I went to the streets in the first place, why I have chosen Philadelphia as my home. Why I continue to teach in the city that I love and fight for a better future for each of my students. 

When I arrive home to Fishtown, we are told that the 26th precinct has a gathering of White men and women with bats, shovels, and axes. After hearing the gathering using racial slurs, cursing, smoking pot, drinking, and yelling about their guns- other Fishtown residents ask the police to disperse the gathering, to which the police’s response was dismissive and cursory. 

When home, I read the statement from Mayor Kenney and Police Commissioner Danielle Outlaw on what I went through, which was beyond disheartening. I voted for Kenney and I was excited to see a badass Black Commissioner woman take charge (I mean, with the last name Outlaw, I thought she’s got to be great). She stated in her press release, “While on the roadway, the crowd surrounded a State Trooper, who was alone and seated in his vehicle, and began rocking the vehicle, with the trooper having no safe means of egress.  Two teams from the Philadelphia Police SWAT Unit arrived. While the SWAT officers were present, members of the crowd began throwing rocks at the officers from the north and south sides, and from the bridges above the officers. The crowd also began rushing toward the officers. The SWAT officers gave numerous orders for the crowd to disperse, to which the crowd did not comply.”

I am too devastated to even respond. Throwing rocks? Rocking a police vehicle? Refusing to disperse? How could these blatant lies be shared so easily? Every detail is false to every second of my experience, but if people in power say it, won’t everyone believe it? 

The dichotomy of this day hurts in a profound way. As my adrenaline fades and I hear the encouraging words from my family and friends, I feel like I will be ok. My husband pulls up a video from the news of what happened to us on 676. I watch the situation unfold from above and can pick myself out in some shots because of my bright red shirt. Then I see it. I’m being dragged down the hill and the camera zooms in. The reporters notice and comment at my sorry state and I can’t help, but laugh when one says “[she] appears to be a woman.”