#she also once said i give off vegan energy and when i asked what the fuck she meant by that

[readymades2002]

did say to my coworker at work something about how if i got injured at work in a way that left a gnarly and epic scar it would look so cool and she said in a very "well duh" kind of way "oh you WOULD say it would be cool" which is the funniest thing anyone's ever said about me

[dameronology]

you have my number {bucky barnes x reader}

summary: bucky barnes' memory is a little selective, thanks to all the brainwashing - but one thing he'll never forget is his love for you, even if you're a complete & utter pain in the ass. his ass. (based on deja vu by olivia rodigro)

^even tho this fic refers to bucky as having a new gf, the reader is still g.n :)

this is spoiler free! enjoyyy

- jazz xx

Your relationship with Bucky Barnes had been nothing short of a train wreck.

And frankly, that was putting it nicely.

It had been a short & passionate affair; intense and sweet and filled with so much emotion in such high concentrations that you'd both almost drowned in it. For every euphoric moment, there had been one so low that you'd scraped your knees on the ground. Climbing a ladder to heaven whilst simultaneously digging your own graves had taken its toll on you both, and eventually, you had no choice but to go your separate ways. It had been for your own sanity, really.

So there he was, tucked away in a neat little box in your brain, labelled don't touch, ever. Even when you were completely wasted, surrounded by your friends and their respective lovers, you never dared to venture back down that particular memory lane. Forgetting all the bad parts and selectively remembering the good parts was easy enough to do, but you had the common sense to remember why you'd broken up in the first place. Because Bucky Barnes, despite being easy on the eyes and having a charming sense of humour, was a pain in your fucking ass. He managed to press every one of your buttons without even trying and his ability to bring out the best in you was completely and entirely wiped out by his tendency to bring out the worst. That wasn't even getting started on his emotional hold-ups; a can of worms neither of you had dared to open until it became the very reason for your demise.

Six months had passed, and you'd managed to expertly avoid him. You worked different missions and Sam Wilson, god bless his sweet soul, went the extra mile to ensure your paths never crossed in a professional sense. On a personal level, however? That was a little more difficult. New York City felt a lot smaller after your break up. You found yourself occasionally ducking under your hood when you saw him on the F-train, or rushing to cross the road when you saw him coming towards you on the street.

That was when you had the whole city to lose yourself in; streets and shops and little food carts to distract yourself with should you need to. Being confined to the same room for a work party was a different story entirely, and one you didn't want to read. Yet, thanks to some insistence from your boss and a little grovelling from your colleagues, you found yourself rocking up to the former Avengers tower on a Friday night.

"So you do exist outside of your work uniform?" Sam Wilson greeted you with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah - nice to see you too, Wilson."

Despite your initial attempts to elbow him in the rips, he wrestled you off of him and pulled you into a tight hug. Sam was one of your favourite colleagues and oldest friends - he'd witnessed the rise and fall of your relationship with Bucky, and been there for you both during the break-up. That had been an exhausting few days, running between your respective apartments in an attempt to offer emotional support to you both.

"D'you want some champagne?" He asked.

"I'm good, but thank-"

You froze, eyes widening at the sight of James Barnes across the room. He looked quintessentially the same, bar for the fact his hair was a little longer and he had a fresh, pink scar under his left eye. Having ditched his usual attire for a black blazer, he looked good. Annoyingly so, in fact. It made you secretly grateful that you'd chosen to dress up a little more than usual too.

"- on second thoughts." You took the flute of champagne from Sam, also grabbing a shot of vodka from the same trey. It was gone in seconds.

"Need I ask?" Sam gave you a playful frown. His brown eyes followed your gaze over his shoulder, landing on the man you'd been staring at. "Ah. I need not."

"Sorry." You murmured. "We haven't actually spoken since, y'know."

"Since you had a break-up that made Ross and Rachel look good?"

"I don't think Bucky has ever seen Friends." You quipped.

"His loss." Sam shrugged. "You should talk to him."

"Nope." You snorted. "Absolutely not. I don't even know if he's moved on."

"Judging by the pretty blonde on his arm, I think he has," Sam replied. "Would you look at that! They're headed right for us."

That was a lot of information to process at once. You would have needed a week alone for your poor, tired brain to deal with the fact that Bucky had someone else on his arm, and a further three days to big yourself up enough to talk to him. Alas, that was not the case tonight. Instead, you had about five seconds between Sam finishing his sentence and your ex-boyfriend reaching you. It was just as well you found the energy within that timeframe to down your champagne.

You could see the woman on his arm clearer now. To give credit where credit was due, she stunning. She looked like the sort of girl who smelt of strawberries and Chanel, and grew her own vegetables on the fire escape. The kind of person you swore to be with every New Year that came, but quickly ditched after a week, returning to drinking coffee from the Starbucks under your apartment rather than going to the organic, vegan place a few blocks over. There was an ethereal glow about her and fuck. You were mad.

"Sam!" Bucky called out to his friend - for a minute, you thought he was ignoring you, before you realised he genuinely didn't recognise you. Your name rolled off his tongue with a tone of uncertainty, as though he was learning a new language and still learning how to pronounce things. "Wow. You look...different."

"So do you." You shot back. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Katie." He awkwardly smiled. "My...my girlfriend."

"It's nice to meet you." You forced an equally pained grin, taking her hand in a shake.

"How do you and Bucky know each other?" She asked.

"Work." Bucky quickly said. You thinned your eyes at him, almost in disbelief.

"So you're an Avenger like these two?" Katie asked, clearly not picking up on the tension. "That's so cool."

"Not in an official capacity." You replied. "But they'd be fucked without me."

--

The night only got longer from there, really.

There wasn't enough champagne in the world to help the void in your soul. It was a gaping wound that Bucky Barnes had both filled and widened - and tonight, he was doing the latter. It sounded as though him and Katie were having a grand ol' time of it. From the parts of the conversation that you'd actually bothered to listen to, you'd gathered that she'd arrived in New York from London just over three months ago. That meant she had a fucking accent. Of course she did. It made everything she said a thousand times more interesting.

"We were in Paris, in this little cafe. What was it called, babe? Maison de vie?"

"Maison de l'amour, doll." Bucky corrected her. It had only sounded right when he was calling you that.

Your eyes shot up from your drink, immediately staring daggers at them both. The slimy bastard. You had been the one to show him that place. You'd been in Paris for a mission, and after realising it was your four-month anniversary, you'd taken him there for pancakes. It had been a slow morning, filled with hazy eyes and pink skies, and it had ended with him dropping the L-bomb for the first time. The photo you'd taken of Bucky, sat beside a pile of pancakes the same size of him and with whipped cream on his chin, had been your phone background until the day you broke up.

"I've been there." You didn't break away from his gaze, holding cold blue eyes in a trance that he found to be almost suffocating.

"Oh, nice!" Katie beamed. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Yeah." You sniffed. "The company was shit, though."

"Oh, man." She replied. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's not your fault." You gave her a sweet smile - to Bucky, it was a look of venom. "So, tell me more about your trip to Paris."

He quickly cleared his throat. "We didn't do much. Just a weekend getaway-"

"- are you forgetting that we saw Billy Joel?" Katie cut him off with a laugh. "The Billy Joel!"

"Right." It looked as though his mouth had gone completely dry.

"He told me he loved me for the first time to Uptown Girl-"

"-excuse me for a moment." You shoved your glass in her hand, before backing away from your little huddle.

Your brain was focused on getting away and only on getting away. The room suddenly felt a thousand times hotter, and a thousand times smaller too, as though the walls were closing in on you. Maybe that wouldn't have been so bad if they'd just collapsed around you and swallowed you fucking whole. Anything to get away from this situation.

Making a beeline for the balcony doors, you elbowed them open and stepped outside. The cold air of the rooftop gardens was a welcome contrast to the stuffy indoors, biting, night air hitting your face like an icy hug. The sounds of the city rung below you - sirens and yells and tourists - and tangled into the faint sound of the music, all parts of a world that your brain was working overtime to block out.

You focused on the city instead, using the bright lights of the surrounding buildings to anchor you to reality. None of it really even made sense - you were over Bucky. Had been for a long time. It was just the thought of him doing all the things that he'd done with you, with someone else. It made you feel a little bad for Katie, too.

"I was going to tell you about Billy Joel."

You glanced over your shoulder, giving a derivative snort. "Piss off, Bucky."

"I'm serious." He ignored your demand, cautiously approaching you.

"I brought you those tickets!" You turned around to face him. "We were meant to go together. Billy Joel was our thing."

"We broke up!' He reminded you. "Like I said, I was going to tell you that we went together-"

"- I don't care." You cut him off. "I genuinely don't care."

"That was a lot of storming off for someone who doesn't care."

"Okay, maybe I care a little bit." You huffed, taking a seat on a bench. "It's not even that you're with someone else, it's that you're doing all the things we did. The nicknames, the pancake place, the concert."

"I..." Bucky took a seat beside you, pondering for a moment.

"And declaring your love for someone to Uptown Girl is fucking weird." You muttered.

"Do you have a better suggestion?"

"Vienna, obviously."

"You're such a pain in the ass." Bucky replied. "But for what it's worth, I wasn't thinking of Katie in that moment."

You glanced up at him, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"D'you remember that morning when we were in New Orleans?" He asked. "And we had a few hours to kill before our flight, so you started dancing around the hotel room to Uptown Girl?"

"I remember." You softly smiled.

"That was when I realised I loved you." He admitted. "I was replaying that in my head at the concert, and it just kinda came out, and Katie heard."

"Damn." You muttered. "Sucks to be her, huh?"

"I like Katie." He said. "Truth be told, doll, I'm still stuck in the past a little bit. With you, and with what we had."

"We fucking hated each other by the end, Buck."

"I know, but I mean all the stuff before that." He explained. "You were the first person who saw me for who I am and not what I've done. The first person that actually made me feel loved and worthy."

"I do try."

He lightly elbowed you "I'm serious. I think I'm just projecting my longing for what we had onto my current relationship."

"You're being painfully honest tonight." You observed. "It's fucking weird."

"Who taught me to be painfully honest?"

"Right." You rolled your eyes. "So this is how Frankenstein felt when he created his monster."

"You're the worst," Bucky muttered. "I genuinely am sorry, though. I shouldn't be recycling our memories. I should make new ones.'

Dusting off your trousers, you stood up. "You're right."

"Thank you, though."

"For what?"

"For finding me first," He replied, "and for teaching me what love is."

"Well, if you ever need to be reminded? You have my number."

[some-days-we-get-sundays]

Now titled, The Wild Ride. Part 2 of my newest Wildmoore AU.

Read part 1 here

As Sophie waited in The Hold Up for Ryan, she thought to herself how crazy she was for accepting a ride with a stranger, especially while being injured and then agreeing to go to some sketchy under ground clinic below a bar with said stranger. But there was something about Ryan that intrigued her. Obviously the girl had secrets but she didn’t think it was, I keep people locked in my basement, type of secrets. Plus Sophie could take care of herself if she needed to. Some years back she had started to take martial arts classes because of a near attack one of her friends had experienced while walking home one night. Her friend was alright but they both had decided after that happened that they would start taking self defense classes. She wasn’t an all world champion or anything but If she needed to defend herself she could at least put up a good fight. She carried mace, a rape whistle and a pocket knife. She didn’t think she’d ever have to use it with Ryan though, or Mary for that matter. She felt safe when she was with Ryan. Protected. 

“Hey Soph, sorry about that. You ready to go? Mine and Mary’s place is above the bar.” Ryan pointed up at the ceiling. 

“Yes, lead the way.” Sophie said. Ryan wheeled Sophie towards the elevator and they went up to the loft. 

“Wow, you guys got a great place. Loft above, bar below and hospital underground. Why would you ever need to leave?” Sophie joked. 

Ryan laughed. “Yeah it’s a great set up. Mary has her license and everything but she likes to save her skills for people who can’t afford it and the ones that society likes to shame and turn their noses up at. She’s always been that way. Helping people who can’t help themselves.” 

“Looks like you two have that in common.” Sophie said. 

Ryan blushed despite herself. “So the bathroom is down that hallway, the kitchen is over there. We have water. I can make some tea or coffee. If you’re hungry I make really good vegan pancakes. Umm we could watch a movie or something too. Do you want me to help you to the couch?” Ryan asked, trying to be a good hostess. 

“I think I got it. I’m fine really, Ryan. But I appreciate the offer.” Sophie chuckled. Sophie gingerly got up and made her way to the couch. “Come sit down.” She said to Ryan. Ryan joined Sophie on the couch.

“So.” Ryan said. 

“So.” Sophie echoed back. “Thanks for saving me.” Sophie offered. 

“Oh it’s no problem. I’m glad I was in the area.” Ryan said.

“I’m glad you were too.” Sophie said softly. “How’d you get so strong? That was honestly unbelievable strength, like superhero strength.”  Sophie pondered out loud. 

“Uh, huh, yeah, nowhere near a superhero. Just naturally strong I guess.” Ryan said. Sophie eyed her with curiosity. 

“So tell me about yourself.” Sophie said, sensing Ryan’s nerves and that she wanted to change the subject.

Ryan laughed. “What is this, a date?” She said. 

“Only if you want it to be.” Sophie said, her voice carrying a flirty edge. 

Ryan’s smirk mirrored Sophie’s own. “Well I’m getting my Masters in African American studies and I’m minoring in naturopathy. I’m also dabbling in some writing and directing of short films. Oh and I’m the manager of the bar downstairs. And I’m gay.” Ryan added on. 

“I mean the flannel was kind of a give away for me.” Sophie quipped. 

“Hey, I could be straight.” Ryan threw her hands up in the air and then let them drop down dramatically onto her thighs. 

“Yes it’s good to have a dream.” Sophie rasped out while giggling. 

“Well, I know you’re not straight either.” Ryan said stepping out on a limb. She wasn’t entirely sure of Sophie’s sexuality but the door was open for the conversation. 

“Damn. What gave me away?” Sophie said. 

“Well that raspy voice of yours for starters.” Ryan said. 

Sophie laughed. “What! How does my voice make me gay! It’s just my voice!” 

“I don’t know, but it’s a thing.” Ryan said with a shrug of her shoulders

“Ok, well that’s not much proof.” Sophie rolled her eyes good-naturedly. 

“Well, also the way you been looking at me is another dead give away.” Ryan said. 

Sophie played along. “Oh, and what way have I been looking at you Ryan, do tell.” 

Ryan regarded Sophie and then bit her lip. She raked her eyes over Sophie and looked at her lips. “You really want me to show you how you’ve been looking at me.” Ryan clenched her jaw and she watched as Sophie’s eyes dropped to Ryan’s lips. Neither of them moved closer but the energy between them was electrically charged. Suddenly the door swung open and in walked Mary. She froze when she saw both Ryan and Sophie on the couch looking a lot closer than two people who just met each other an hour ago should be looking. 

“Um, hey you two. Sorry to interrupt whatever this is.” Mary wildly gestured to the two of them. She walked over and stood by Sophie. “Is Ryan taking good care of you?” Mary asked with a glace at Ryan. 

“Yes, she’s wonderful. You both are.” Sophie said, sincerely. 

“Hey, why don’t we order some vegan delivery?” Ryan suggested, not wanting to get rid of Sophie so soon. She’d been enjoying spending time with her and hey, she did still technically have to make sure that she didn’t have any internal bleeding or a concussion. She liked spending time alone with Sophie but she had a feeling that she would get a lot more chances to spend time alone with her. Mary went into her room to take off the day and left Sophie and Ryan alone again. Well that was fast. 

“Hey Ryan, I wondered if you would like to go out with me some time. Like after I heal and everything.” Sophie said once Mary closed the door to her bedroom.

Ryan tried to hide the big smile that was threatening to take over her face. But she could not contain it. She really liked Sophie, and by the looks of it, Sophie liked her back. Ryan wondered if she could eventually tell Sophie who she was. How long could she wait to tell her the truth about herself? And if she finally told her, would Sophie be upset that Ryan lied or didn’t confide in her sooner. This was part of Ryan and if her and Sophie ended up really connecting, she would want to share that part of herself with Sophie, otherwise would Sophie really know her at all?

“Hey you ok over there? If it’s too soon, or if I misread-” Sophie began trying to backtrack. 

“No! No. Sorry. It’s not too soon, and you definitely did not misread anything. I would love to go out with you. As long as it’s not rock climbing.” Ryan laughed. 

“Hey! I’m usually very agile! I just slipped.” Sophie said crossing her arm in her defense.  

“Yeah, yeah.” Ryan said. 

Mary came back out of her room, dressed in some comfy clothes and wearing slippers. “Alright you two, time to order some hopefully delicious food because I’m starving.” 

“I’m gonna go wash up.” Sophie said as she got up to go to the bathroom. 

Once Sophie was out of ear shot Mary gave Ryan a look. “Girl” was all Mary said. But it was enough. 

“I know I know! She asked me out.” Ryan confessed. 

“What! How long was I in there?” Mary jabbed her thumb behind herself at her bedroom. 

“I said yes, obviously.” 

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. What are you gonna do about the whole... Bat thing.” Mary whispered the last part. 

Ryan picked up some take out menus and looked at them, trying to decide where she was going to order from. “I think I’m gonna tell her if we end up getting close. I mean, I want her to know me, and I already trust her. I mean I brought her to your illegal clinic, right.” Ryan said. 

Mary rolled her eyes. “Yeah, don’t remind me.” 

“I get good vibes from her though. I think this could turn into something. So we will see.” Ryan said as she watched Sophie walk back into the room. It was golden hour and the orange sun was beaming in through the loft windows, illuminating Sophie in an angelic glow. Ryan’s heart skipped a few beats. She looked up at the sky as if to say, really, God? This woman! Ryan was smitten, and she knew Sophie was feeling the same way, she just hoped that Sophie was prepared for the wild ride that was Ryan Wilder. 

[mashiraostail]

How do you think midnight, vlad and kugo would react to having a vegan/ plant based s/o. I recently went plant based and I wanna know what you think they would do.

hmm I haven’t really considered it a lot me and my whole family are vegans but usually, my friends and significant others aren’t so i don’t give it much thought lol but here’s what I came up w on my first go!

Nemuri Kayama/Midnight I think out of the characters you listed she’s prob the most likely to try it out too, she usually lets you pick where you get to take out or go to eat, if she doesn’t like a certain place she’ll be sure to mention it but it won't turn her off ever trying someplace like it again. She likes trying new things so she’s not opposed to testing out your cooking or trying new snacks with you. I also think she’s the type of person to b like ‘on this tasted the same so we can just get the one you like’ she also def makes her friends try stuff like Mic is her go to and she’ll always give him stuff you made just to see how overreactive he can be about how good it tastes. 

Sekijiro Kan/Vlad King is 50/50 i remember reading a manga bio that says he rlly likes cheese and the one thing vegans have not managed to recreate very well is dairy cheese. Might make him kinda sad, but I can see him not being able to tell the difference between vegan chicken and real chicken like he could really be super candid and funny about it like ‘wait was this the fake one? I’m confused’ type energy, idk why but I get strong soy milk vibes from him. He probably won’t go vegan but if it’s something you’re really passionate abt he’ll be mindful about it for sure and will probably eat a lot less meat/animal product around you. I also just don’t think he supports animal made clothing, like leather and stuff so that’s no issue with him. But like Midnight he’s super into trying new stuff, and if he really likes it he won’t have a problem saying goodbye to the original. That being said he’ll tease you about it more than Midnight would, nothing super mean or annoying but the occasional comparison to a rabbit can’t be helped so learn to love it. 

Kugo Sakamata/Gang Orca He’ll try some food and stuff and he’s respectful for you and like you will def mention it once and come over the next day to a fridge full of vegan junk that he gets specifically for you but I feel like he really likes a routine and isn’t super willing to break out of it... so don’t push him he really won’t appreciate it. Some small stuff is alright though he’s up for changing the milk in his coffee, offer him a bit of whatever you’re having, but don’t expect it to lead to anything larger than that. He’s super supportive of you though and will literally buy the whole plant-based freezer at the supermarket when all you asked for was ice cream and he’ll come back like  ‘kugo why do you have 4 bags???’ ‘I didn’t no what to get for you so..i got..backups 🥺in case?’ and you’ll be like  ‘why did you buy pizza rolls too??’  ‘i.... thought you would like them👉👈 ?” 

[rina-writes]

The Dress

A/N: The friend!reader consoling Ethan reminded me of this drabble I had in my drafts of Ethan comforting gf!reader when feeling insecure.  Kinda short, but I think it’s cute :D  

Warnings: Fluff, sexual references (at the end), insecure!reader

You chewed on your lower lip as you stood on line for the register.  You picked up the velvet, green dress that was draped over your right arm with your left hand to pull it into view.

“Are you sure it looked good?” You asked your best friend who was standing next to you, sending a quick text.

“Yes!” She said, with a laugh. “100 times yes.  I think it will look great for the red carpet.”

“It’s not really a red carpet.” You argued, your eyes still analyzing the dress.  “It’s more of like a gala.  Think the turn of the 20th century, where aristocrats would be invited to a new exhibit at the museum. Everyone would wear their best, strolling through the galleries with a glass of champagne in hand, occasionally nibbling on the hors d'oeuvres being passed around on delicate, silver trays.”

Your best friend paused and a little smirk formed on her lips.  “Your boyfriend hired you to do the PR his event again?”

You laughed. “Is it that obvious it’s my idea?” You smiled to yourself.

The Dolan Twins were huge fans of “putting people on,” so to speak.  If someone in their circle had a knack for something, they employed them to do it.  It wasn’t only that Ethan trusted your creative direction, but he AND Grayson thought your ideas were a great fit for their event.  Just like any other person who would organize an 100+ scale event, they paid you very well to do it. So, there was a lot of pressure to make this the best launch celebration ever.  

To be honest, you knew you nailed it.  You just couldn’t help, but feel like you didn’t fit your own event.  You weren’t a big YouTuber or a celebrity or anything remotely famous.  Your relationship with Ethan was on the DL, so you didn’t even feel pressure to keep up a certain image.  Unlike the boys, you definitely had a “whenever I feel like it” work out regimen and a “whatever taste good” kind of diet. You did try to eat relatively healthy and at least move during the day, but it wasn’t enough to maintain a Instagram-worth physique.

Which brings us back to the dress in your hand that you were now about to purchase...for quite a bit of money.  The dress fit the aesthetic of your event: an off the shoulder dress with a sweetheart neckline that dipped down the center of your chest, with long sleeves that started at the top of your arm and ended at your wrist.  The velvet material hugged your body, leaving nothing to the imagination, and stopped just about your knees.  The dress was classic, and one that you could wear again and again...if you had the confidence.  Your best friend hyped you up in the dressing room, but you hated the way your stomach looked in it. But, your best friend looked so disappointed that you didn’t like it.  Not because she particularly liked the dress, but because she knew your distaste for the dress was about your feelings towards you body.

“We’ll jack you up.” Your best friend said with a wink as you put the dress in the trunk.  She had been watching quite a bit of “Say Yes to The Dress Atlanta” lately and often quoted Monty and Lori.  “The party is tomorrow so, let’s continue our glam day where we just relax and pamper ourselves.  Then tomorrow, I’ll help you get dressed.”

“Thanks, Y/F/N,” You smiled softly, getting into the passenger seat of her car and buckling your seat belt. 

“Trust me, Ethan is going to love it.” Your best friend assured as she backed out of the parking spot.

But, what if I don’t.... You thought, but bit your tongue.  You didn’t want to make a big deal about it anymore.

The night of the event, you were buzzing around like a bee.  You loved the rush of making sure everything was going right, and the even bigger surge of energy when something was going wrong. 

The setting was perfect.  Each fragrance had it’s own gallery with a video clip on loop that showed the natural inspiration for the fragrance.  There were testimonies from the twins about the fragrances written on plaques placed beside the display of the fragrance bottles.  There were also several stations in the gallery to try the fragrance and pick up goodie bags.

You had successful ensured that all food was labeled for vegan, non-vegan, vegetarian, kosher, halal, and marked for allergies.  You also did your best to inform the wait staff of who had specific dietary restrictions to know to go to them with the options they could eat first before opening it to the rest of the floor.  

You had even ensured that the photographers got people when they came in through the door and let people know about the photo booth in the back.  

This was going to be your event to top.  Once people knew that you organized it, your office was going to be full with requests. But if there was anyone you wanted to impress, it was Ethan.  

And he was.  Ethan walked in, his hair styled neatly, his body clad in a black tailored suit with a white button down and a red tie.  Grayson, also wore a similar tailored suit and a white button down, but he opted for a green tie.  They intended to do the twin thing, and unintentionally did the Christmas color thing...but they could roll with it. When Ethan saw you, his jaw dropped.  He had never seen you like this before.  For one thing, everyone was running up to you with different issues. You kept a pleasant smile on your face as you calmed people down and told them what to do.  You made it look easy.  Then there was the dress...oof.  It was like he was seeing your curves for the first time.  He felt like he would need to holler at you all over again.

“Gray, quick, switch ties with me.” Ethan said, slapping his brother on the arm with the back of his hand.

“No, green is my favorite color.” Grayson said, narrowing his eyes. “I’m also not doing this in the middle of our event.”

“Green’s my favorite color now too.” Ethan said, gesturing to you talking to one of the wait staff.

The green velvet dress looked amazing on your complexion. You had taken the green elements into other parts of your outfit as well as part of your best friend’s “jacking up.” Your hair was decorated with faux emerald and cubic zirconia hair pieces (because this dress already cost you a fortune).  You were wearing black pumps, but they had green bottoms that your friend helped you dye yourself.  You were also wearing a mix of green and silver jewelry including dangling earrings and a bracelet.  Ethan made a mental note to get you a watch for your birthday, one that could go with this dress and any other dress you decided to grace him with in the future.

“Oh wow...” Grayson said, trying not to oogle his brother’s girlfriend.  “Okay, you win. Take my tie...”

Grayson removed his tie and Ethan did the same.  If you had turned around and seen them, it would have been comical.  It was like they were racing to see who could tie a tie the fastest and they were both losing.  Finally, they both looked decent enough to mingle.  Ethan walked straight towards you.

“Excuse me, miss?” Ethan said, licking his lips as he spoke to you. 

You looked up from the table you were re-arranging and smiled softly. This was one of your favorite bits. When Ethan pretended to not know you and ask you out again.  It was funny because Ethan was Mr. Slow and Steady when going into a relationship.  He never just hollered at a girl, he always became her friend, got to know her and then finally asked her out. It made this all the more fun to act out.

“I just wanted to say that I think you are the most beautiful woman in the room.”  Ethan rolled his hands and licked his lips flirtatiously. “And, if you don’t have a man, I’d be happy to apply for the position. If you do, I hope you don’t mind us doing this quietly.”

You laughed, and placed a hand on his chest. “Babe, stop.”

Your hand ran along his tie and you smiled.  You loved how you two always unintentionally matched...completely unaware of how much effort Ethan put in to do it.

“Alright, I’ll control myself.” He hugged you tightly, kissing your cheek. 

“Ethan...” You blushed. “People are staring.”

“They already were.” He leaned back and smiled at you. “Got to let them know you’re mine.”

Ethan gave your side a squeeze, resisting from giving your butt a little slap, before stepping back.  “This event looks amazing, Y/N.  I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you!” You exclaimed.  “Your product lent itself to this design.  I am even wearing one of your scents now.”

“I know...” He grinned. “...it’s one of my favorites because I made it with you in mind.”

You were about to say something cheesy when someone walked up to Ethan.  He introduced them as someone from their management team.  You waved, at them, and then paused, suddenly remembering what you were wearing.  Your hands danced between covering your stomach and your chest, and you constantly looked at your reflection in one of the dark windows behind them.  Your focus on your appearance made it hard to join the conversation.  You answered most questions curtly and in a quiet voice.  

When you interacted with the catering staff and your team, you weren’t nervous.  They had seen you come into the office in sweatpants and coffee stains on your shirt on multiple occasions.  You didn’t have to pretend for them. They knew you were good at your job and what you wore didn’t matter.

For Ethan’s colleagues, you felt more pressure.  Although the public didn’t know about your relationship, most people in the twins’ circle knew he was dating someone.  Eventually, someone would tell someone else that the girl in the green dress was Ethan’s girlfriend, and you couldn’t help, but worry about how that would reflect on Ethan. 

Ethan was surprised to see you clam up like this.  This wasn’t like you normally, and it definitely wasn’t like you a few moments earlier.  At first he thought it was just because you were caught off guard. It wasn’t until the third person he introduced you to did he notice that something was up.

“Baby,” Ethan whispered in your ear as the person excused themself. “Come with me for a second.”

Ethan laced his fingers in yours and pulled you to the back of the galleria where there was a back room used to house the extra supplies like toilet paper and tools.

“Is everything okay?” Ethan asked, once he was sure you were both alone and the door was closed.

“Yeah!” You smiled, thinking he was the one worried. “Everyone loves the launch, Ethan! It’s going well.”

“Not the event,” Ethan said, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you toward him.  “I mean you.  You’re not acting like yourself.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, putting your hands on his shoulders.  “I’m fine.”

“You’re acting all shy and awkward.” He rested his forehead on yours. “You only do that when something is bothering you.”

“No I don’t.” You argued in a monotone voice.

The silence was awkward and bone chilling.  Ethan just stared at you until you cracked. 

“It’s the dress...” You admitted with a sigh. “I look like a whale.”

“Wait what?” Ethan asked, almost yelling.” Are you nuts? Y/N, baby, you look amazing.  I’ve been planning to pull you in here and plow you in this dress. I am holding back everything inside of me right now...how could you say that?”

You blushed. “It’s my stomach.” You backed up so you could show him the outline of your stomach. Your hands then went to the neckline of the dress.  “And this is cut in such a weird spot.”

“Your stomach looks fine, I didn’t even notice it. And your tits look amazing in that weird spot.” Ethan used air quotes when he said weird spot.  His hands then immediately went to your lower back to pull you closer to him.

“I just don’t feel like this dress is right for me.” You sighed again.

“Why?” Ethan asked, running hands up your sides. “Because this dress looks so amazing on you, I almost don’t want to take it off. Almost...”

You smiled softly. “I dunno...it just doesn’t look right. Maybe I should work out or something....”

“I mean if you want.” Ethan kissed your forehead. “Or you can change what you see in your mind.  Everyone here is impressed with you.   They want to hear more about you and book you for their events. I’m sure they’d ask if you didn’t seem so...out of it.”

You seemed unsure so Ethan continued, “Hey, I’ve even heard compliments on your dress.  I can’t change what you think of yourself, but I want to help you to love yourself the way I love you.”

“I love you too, E.” You sighed, “You really think it looks good?”

“Yes.” Ethan nodded so quickly you thought his head would roll off.

“Thank you.” You said, looking down at yourself.  Suddenly, your stomach didn’t look that big and your boobs did look pretty nice.  You realized, it wasn’t the dress. It was the whole being Ethan’s girlfriend thing that threw you off.  

“I guess, I just felt like this was the kind of dress that someone like you would like to see your girlfriend in.” You said, still looking down.

Ethan narrowed his eyes. “Yes, hence why I like seeing you, my girlfriend, in this dress.”

“I know, it’s just sometimes I feel like there is Ethan Dolan’s girlfriend...this image i have in my head.” You paused. “And then there’s me.  Which sometimes is a different image.”

“Well guess what...” Ethan kissed your cheek. “That image in my head is always you.  So, whatever we have to do to match up the images in your head, I’m ready to do it together.”

“Aww, E...” You kissed him softly and he deepened the kiss.

His hands roamed from your shoulders to your backside, giving your body little squeezes. As the kiss got sloppier, you realized that Ethan wasn’t going to be satisfied by a little frenching.

“Quickie before we go back out?” You suggested, breaking the kiss.  

You walked over to one of the shelves and put your hands on top of it. You turned so your butt was up and facing Ethan, one of his favorite positions.

“Yes ma’am,” He smirked, unbuckling his belt as he walked over.

“But make sure you don’t ruin my dress.” You said, looking back at him with a wink.

“Yes, ma’am.”

[ibelieveinharrystyles]

Chapter Nine: Baby You’re A Firework

In some ways life had become easier for Ashley since her pregnancy was leaked to the press, she could freely walk Daisy to school each morning without having to wear the baggiest jumper she could find. She was also inundated with kind messages from other women, who like her were raising children as a young adult, she finally felt ready for her baby’s arrival. Knowing the baby was due to come any day, Daisy was behaving more angelic, perhaps in an attempt to make Ashley’s life easier, or maybe it was to ensure she wasn’t forgotten about when the baby arrived. “”Mummy, when the baby comes will I still be it’s big sister?” Daisy asked as the pair walked to school.

“What do you mean Dais?” Ashley asked.

“Harry isn’t my Dad is he? But he’s the baby’s daddy.” Daisy replied.

“You’ll still be the baby’s big sister darling, in fact you’ll be the best big sister ever.” Ashley assured her. 

“I promise I will be mummy.” Daisy smiled as they approached the school gates.

“Be a good girl today poppet, and remember we’ve got Lou and Lux’s fireworks tonight.” Ashley told her, holding her tight in the warmest of hugs.

“Love you mummy!” Daisy cried before running through the school gates.

“She’s a sweetheart,” One of the mums beside Ashley remarked.

“I don’t know where she gets it from, I was a little tear away at that age.” Ashley replied.

“Surely it’s her dad, he is a national treasure after all.” The lady smiled.

Although Harry wasn’t Daisy’s biological father, the whole world just assumed he was, he loved her like she was his own, and for Ashley that was enough.

“So do you feel ready for the new baby?” Gemma and Ashley had planned to shop for bits for the baby, but the british weather has other ideas. They’d managed to find shelter in a small vegan coffee shop in the back streets of Hampstead. It was one of those cool instagrammable places with hanging ivy trailing across ceiling beams and pink neon light signs.

“It’s less scary this time, even though Harry won’t be there for the birth, I know he’s going to be the best dad.” Ashley replied, sipping on her hot chocolate.

“Definitely, he’s finally mastered flat pack furniture, he’s set up a little nursery in the room next to his.” Gemma smiled.

“You know a mum at the school gates referred to Harry as Daisy’s dad, but I didn’t correct her. Because it felt right.” Ashley told her.

“Daisy will always be his world, we both know that.” Gemma assured her.

“Yeah, she adores him.” Ashley replied.

“And he adores you. He’d move heaven and earth for you if he had to. Where did it go wrong for you two? You were so good together.”

“Maybe we were always just destined to be best friends, and nothing more.” Ashley sighed.

“Ash, I’ve seen the way you look at each other, even at your house when the pregnancy got leaked, he could’ve easily contacted Jeff to protect his reputation and let us look after you, but he went straight to you. For Harry, it will only ever be you.” Gemma explained, she knew her brother better than anyone else, she knew they were right for each other since they were kids. She saw Harry’s face on the day of Ashley’s prom, when she was a bridesmaid at Anne's wedding and when she was on his arm at the Brits, he adored her and he cherished her. If Gemma could put the way Harry felt about Ashley into bottles and sell it, she would, because no matter what happened, or what anyone said, he would only really ever have eyes for Ashley.

It was late in the evening, thankfully the rain had held off, Ashley and Daisy were at Lou’s house for a small bonfire night gathering, the kids were playing in the garden, toasting marshmallows on the bonfire with Lux’s dad Tom, while the mums sat in the kitchen eating the leftovers of the takeaway pizza the kids had obliterated. “So when are you due Ash?” Lou’s sister Sam asked.

“I was due for halloween, but clearly this one enjoys it in there more than Daisy did.” Ashley told her, she knew the baby would come soon as every so often she’d feel a little flutter or a kick in her ribs.

“Have you got any names?” Lottie asked, from across the table.

“There’s a couple, if it’s a girl I love the idea of another flower name to match Daisy, and if its a boy, there's a few nature related names I love.” Ashley had one name in mind, regardless of whether it was a boy or a girl, she wasn’t planning on telling anyone yet, but she knew it would be a name Harry would love and hold close to his heart forever.

All the other parents and children had left, Lux and Daisy were curled up on the sofa drinking hot chocolate while they watched a movie on the TV. “Hey Dais, what are you watching?” Ashley asked as she poked her head around the living room door.

“It’s my Harry.” Daisy whispered, Ashley looked at the screen to see Harry and the boys performing at the O2, the girls had chosen to watch the One Direction movie, a film that captured so many moments that Ashley held close to her heart.

“Do you think I made a mistake?” Ashley asked Lou as she returned to the kitchen.

“What do you mean?” Lou asked, Ashley raised her eyebrows, “You mean Harry don’t you?”

Before Ashley could explain her epiphany the sharpest shooting pain hit her spine.

She gripped onto Lou’s marble top counter, “It’s happening Lou, the baby’s coming.”

“Are you sure?” Lou asked.

“That’s definitely a contraction Lou.” Ashley winced, “Why do I only go into labour in kitchens?” 

“Tom’s out the back, I’ll ask him to stay with the girls, Daisy can stay here tonight. Where’s the baby bag?” Lou replied.

“In the hallway, in the cupboard under the stairs.” Ashley told her.

“Ok I’ll grab that and call us an uber, you sit down and I’ll tell Gem to meet us there too.” Lou instructed her.

Ashley pulled out her phone, ringing Harry, even though she knew full well he would be on set filming, “Hey Harry,” She winced as it began recording her voicemail, “It seems as though our little one is on it’s way into the world, Daisy’s in safe hands, she’s watching This Is Us with Lux, she is so proud of you H. I know you’ll worry but don’t because Lou is taking me to the hospital and Gem said she’ll meet us there. I’ve been a bitch these past few months, I should’ve let you in, but we both know that after the way other people have treated me before, that being open and vulnerable scares the shit out of me. I want you in the baby’s life and I want you in mine, frankly at this point I don’t care what capacity it's in, because you mean the world to me Harry, you’ve been the one constant source of happiness in my life since the day we met. From the day my dad died and you slept beside me because you were scared of what I might do to myself, when I had my first period and you spent your pocket money on a box of all my favourite things and when you were like a father to Daisy, that meant more than anything else ever could. Whatever happens between us Harry, whether we parent our baby as best friends, or whether we grow old and grey together, I will always be your golden girl.”

Compared to Daisy’s birth, this one was a walk in the park, Ashley was sat up in the hospital bed, already fully dilated and the nurses had given her the epidural to relieve some of the pain. “Right Ash, it looks like this baby isn’t hanging around, shall we get going?” The midwife said as she pulled on her surgical gloves. Lou had returned home to the girls, but Gemma stayed by Ashley’s side, holding onto her hand for reassurance. “When you’re ready Ash, I need you to push on the next contraction.” The midwife instructed her, “You are sensational Ash! That's the head delivered, I need you to push really hard to get this little one’s shoulders out now.”

“I am never letting your brother get me pregnant again.” Ashley huffed to Gemma after pushing through another agonising contraction.

“This baby is a chunky one Ash, I need you to give me one last almighty push, use every last bit of energy you have to push it out.” Ashley used every muscle in her body to push the baby out as hard as she could, until the once silent room was filled with the shrill cries of her new baby. “Congratulations Ash, you’ve got a little boy.” The midwife cut the umbilical cord and immediately placed him on Ashley’s chest.

“Hello little man, aren’t you a beauty?” Ashley whispered, a single tear of pride rolling down her cheek.

“He’s perfect Ash,” Gemma smiled, “You were incredible.” 

“Welcome to the world baby Robin.” Ashley whispered, already completely infatuated with her new baby.

“Robin?” Gemma smiled.

“I adored your stepdad, when we lost my dad he was always there for me, he always looked out for me, and I know how much Harry loved him, and it’s the only name that feels fully suited to him.”

Ashley was in love, her brand new baby boy lay sound asleep in her arms, his delicate little hands poking out of the sleeves of his baby grow. Gemma had gone home to get some sleep, which Ashley had encouraged her to do, so now it was just the two of them in the little hospital room. Ashley’s phone began to buzz and she picked it up to see Harry’s face, “Hello stranger.” Ashley grinned.

“Is everything alright? I got your voicemail.” Harry asked from the comfort of his trailer.

“Everything’s great you could even say perfect,” Ashley whispered, “Do you want to meet him?” 

“Him? We’ve got a little baby boy?” Harry replied, a smile stretching from cheek to cheek.

“This is our little baby boy, Robin.” Ashley told him.

“Robin? You know Mum is going to adore that, and I adore him too, thank you for naming him that.” Harry smiled.

“It only felt right, I think I always knew that’s what I’d call him, it just seemed to make sense.” Ashley replied, staring at her little boy in adoration. “He’s way bigger than Dais was, he weighed almost double what she weighed when she arrived.” 

“She’s going to love him.” Harry whispered, “I can’t wait until I can see you all in person again, I miss you all like mad.” 

“We miss you too.”

Robin made Ashley feel truly complete, it was the following morning and she had just changed into a comfier t-shirt and joggers, along with one of Harry’s tour hoodies. Robin was sleeping peacefully in his little cot, having just been fed, as she sent Harry yet another picture of their little boy, a little person popped their head around the door. “Hello Mummy,” She heard a whisper. 

She looked over to see Daisy, holding a balloon and a gift bag with Lou beside her, “Hello my best girl, how are you?” Ashley crouched down, greeting her daughter with open arms, “I’ve missed you so much angel.”

“I’ve been very good, Lou made us special pancakes for breakfast.” Daisy told her.

“That’s lovely,” Ashley smiled, “Thank you so much for having her Lou.”

“It’s no problem really, she is an absolute sweetheart.” Lou replied.

“Daisy, would you like to meet your little brother?” Ashley asked, Daisy nodded in response as Ashley lifted Robin out of the cot. “This our little baby Robin.” 

“Like my Grandad Robin?” Ashley was taken aback, she wasn’t sure if Daisy remembered him, but everyone loved to talk about him fondly, so Daisy must just have picked up on it, it melted Ashley’s heart that Daisy called him her grandad.

“Yes Dais, just like Grandad Robin.” For once it seemed as if life made complete sense, Ashley had two beautiful children who she loved more than anything else, and finally she knew exactly how she felt about Harry.

[ravenkinnie]

ao3

Cass isn’t big on teams which seems to be uncommon in her family.

It’s not that she hates working with others, getting away from Gotham to go on a mission with Birds of Prey is a genuine joy. It’s more that… she knows Oracle and she knows Birds; they work well together. Cass is not sure if people who don’t know her are comfortable with how she works.

She thinks that worries Bruce. Well, Barbara thinks it does.

So, Cass is gathering her wits after being knocked off her feet by a metahuman build like a brick house; she thinks maybe, just maybe, Titans missions are not necessarily within her range when a sudden surge in energy somewhere around her almost knocks her off her feet again. She would be annoyed but then there’s a hand on her shoulder and Raven reaches out with her other hand and the metahuman who was about to rearrange her bones flinches away violently.

Raven looks at her, seemingly mindless of whatever visions she sent onto him. Cass is reminded of unclear wild lakes she used to make her home, how the seaweed would grab at her ankles sometimes, dragging her down, and her heart thumps inside her chest once, strongly, on beat and then the energy is gone and Raven with it, disappearing as quickly as she appeared.

Titans missions are not within her range. Cass has never backed down from a challenge, though.

***

Duke has his ribs broken. Cass thinks it’s kind of dumb for metahumans not to have healing powers. She doesn’t think he will appreciate her opinion so she stays quiet; Barbara would call it growth.

She just keeps her arm on his shoulder as he cringes through Raven’s attempt to assess the damage with her hands. “It’s extensive,” she says, and Cass doesn’t worry; Raven’s stoic demeanour doesn’t change with the realisation.

Duke’s breath hitches. He’s about to say something and then his muscles relax and he gasps in surprise. Her brother will be okay, the momentary tension in Raven’s torso tells Cass that.

“Okay, yeah… that’s incredible,” Duke smiles at Raven and Cass squeezes his shoulder.

“Thank you,” Raven stands up, looks up from Duke right at her. It’s a small gesture, a flicker but Cass feels like she needs to stand her ground against it. “It seems pointless to create superhumans and not let them heal themselves, doesn’t it?”

Cass laughs, no point in keeping that in, Raven would feel her surprise and amusement anyway. She laughs and she’s glad she does because Raven seems pleased, but she shies away almost immediately. Cass wonders if Raven blushes on her chest when she’s flustered like Steph does.

“So, she does hate me,” Duke states, his voice is light but Cass sees some hurt in the lines of his mouth.

“She really likes you,” it’s true, there’s some gentleness and newfound fondness in the way Raven pressed her palms against his bruised chest.

Duke accepts her words but his body screams doubt. It’s odd how often her family would rather believe their own versions than trust her expertise.

***

She doesn’t really have a reason to be here. Well, she does – Damian has been staying between the Tower and the Manor more and more lately. Cass would lie if she said she didn’t miss his strained, expressive presence by her side in Gotham. It’s good for him to train with others, Dick said, be with heroes his age. He’s probably right but something in her rears its head to ask if its’ wrong to want her family close. Sometimes Cass can’t ignore that.

She takes a peep from inside the control room over the training hall. One of the younger boys Titans took in (Cass has never been good with names) is talking to Damian, his hands outstretched in an open, teasing manner. Damian frowns but Cass knows him, there’s no malice behind the expression.

“Vic said someone came around,” she turns around and Donna leans in the doorway, smiles at her warmly. Cass hasn’t really had much contact with her but Dick’s features when he talks about his best friend tell her everything, so she smiles back. “You should come down, I’m sure Jamie –“ ah, Cass thinks, Jamie”- would love to watch you two spar.”

Cass nods and Donna leaves. She lingers around, wondering if she should ask but also… maybe patience pays off. She considers it for a moment, shrugs off her sweatshirt and heads out of the room, leaving it draped over the back of a chair.

Cass is sure Bruce would not be happy with her motives. He should be proud of making her a strategist.

***

Cass has her routine.

It comes naturally to her at this point, every step and jump and punch rehearsed and repeated and planned out years in advance. That’s why it works, there’s no room to calculate how to land, how to twist her wrist or tense her muscles to soften the jumps and the kicks. Cass can recreate it and focus on the burn in her muscles and the clicks of her joints.  

Barbara thinks she gets it, the calming effect of repeating known movements. Cass isn’t sure she knows how to explain the pleasure in not just knowing but feeling her body has limits. She’s not sure she understands the push and pull herself.

She lands harder than necessary, sending shockwaves through her legs, when the air crackles with energy and she knows who it is before the figure materialises.

Raven has one of her hands in her coat pocket, the other one holding the sweatshirt Cass left at the Titans tower. She raises her eyebrow in tune with the hand holding the garment. “I thought I would drop this off.”

Cass can put on an act but there is no point, really. Not with most people, definitely not with Raven. “Good,” she shoots her a toothy smile.

Raven smiles back, Cass is sure it’s involuntary because she catches herself; her eyes travel around the cave briefly. Her hair is messy, the shorter pieces of her fringe must be tickling her cheek. Cass wishes she could tell if Raven notices that.

“So,” Raven says, looking back at her; the smile playing at the sides of her mouth looks voluntary this time. “I think you should invite me upstairs.”

***

So, Cass ends up on the couch with her brother’s teammate, their legs tangled together. She unbuttoned Raven’s shirt hastily, the gap in the material is small and uneven but Cass – Cass needed to see her hand against that smooth, pale landscape of skin.

Raven kisses her with purpose, her lips catching Cass’ own in tune with the hard thumping heartbeats in Cass’ chest; she thinks maybe there’s another tune coming from her, one only Raven can feel, one that guides her, one that says this is a good moment to pull away, that this is an even better moment to come back and catch Cass’ bottom lip with her teeth.

It’s a good rhythm, Cass very much likes that rhythm, especially when Raven tangles one of her hands in her messy hair and angles her head just enough to tease her lips with the tip of her tongue and her other hand travels down Cass’ back, her leg realigning between Cass’ own and oh-

-oh, that’s a very good rhythm.

***

Cass opens the door to the manor kitchen with her elbow and almost spills her iced coffee. She kind of hopes no one is around to see it but no such luck.

Bruce sits by the kitchen island, his face unshaved and a Tupperware container in his hand. He seems lost in thought when she walks in but blinks it away and says, “Morning, Cassie.”

“Morning,” she takes the seat across from him.

Bruce watches her carefully. He always watches her carefully. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes.” She woke up half an hour ago, but he doesn’t need to know that. Damian didn’t exactly ask her to make a day trip with him to an art gallery opening in Metropolis, but she could see how his body vibrated with pure excitement. As much as he tried to hide his hopes, he couldn’t quite crack it with her. Cass isn’t a secret fan of modern art but she is a secret fan of watching Damian talk about it with barely contained joy and passion.

Bruce probably knows it all anyway. “I’ll ask Alfred to pack you some leftovers.”

Cass is pretty sure that’s Bruce’s way of making amends. He’s probably not even sure what exactly he’s making amends for anymore but the drive is stronger. Cass remembers a brief argument she started at a patrol once, just to rile Damian up jokingly, about how much better honeydew melons were than cantaloupes. She didn’t think Bruce listened to any of their bickering but the next day she opened her fridge to find it filled with pre-cut honeydew melons.

Cass is pretty sure Alfred had nothing to do with it. The fact that she didn’t like raw vitamins bothered him too much to attempt that.

Damian bursts into the kitchen, his coat only halfway on, Ace right behind him. He snaps at her, tells her to hurry up and is out the door almost immediately so Cass gives Bruce a quick hug goodbye and skips outside right behind her brother.

It’s not until she adjusts her rear-view mirror that she notices a pink-purple mark on her collarbone, just above the hem of her shirt.

Well. Healing powers don’t mean anything if you don’t use them.

***

“That’s a lot of fruit,” Raven frowns at her fridge.

Cass is chopping vegetables through onion-induced tears, so she just signs “yeah” and tries to explain Bruce’s fruit-based love language. Raven checks on the stir fry on Cass’ barely used stove, frowning more through the story.

Raven detangled herself from Cass’ arms earlier that evening, declared her eating habits sad, and send her to the store while rummaging through the cupboards to find kitchen utensils. Cass doesn’t mind, really; her diet consists mostly of beef jerky and chicken ramen; she’s pretty sure Raven’s vegan.

“So, you have a fridge full of your father’s love,” Raven teases; her brow smooths and she points her spoon at Cass. “Something about you just makes people want to feed you, I guess.”

Raven put on her oversized men’s flannel and left the buttons undone so Cass can trail down the hollow of her throat, through the valley between the slopes of her breasts, down the line of her stomach to the waistband of the boxers she also stole from Cass.

“I guess,” she repeats.

Turns out cilantro tastes like soap. Cass washes the aftertaste out between Raven’s thighs.

***

Whatever they have going on between them, whatever it is that they settle into at the end of the day - it's unlike any other relationship Cass experienced before.

She's not unfamiliar with friendships. Her and Steph build a camaraderie based on incessant picking each other up and pushing and pulling and laughing and crying for each other and together. Cass knows what it's like to settle into couch cushions with Steph, pretend like neither of them is enjoying the horrible, cheesy movie they put on and mock all the parts that actually pull on their heartstrings. She knows what it's like to fall asleep to a TV playing and wake up with her face pressed into Steph's shoulder

She doesn't know if she can describe what settling on the couch with Raven feels like but it's nothing like that.

They stumbled upon a random channel in Albanian one night; Cass isn't fully sure why she has that one or why Raven speaks Albanian well enough to understand the movie; she chooses not to question some choices. Cass lounged on Raven’s chest lazily, listening to her running commentary, the light from the TV flirting with the darkness behind her closed eyes. She’s pretty sure she could feel Raven’s hand caressing her naked back at some point. Pretty sure.

Cass fell asleep with her face pressed into the rise of Ravens chest and woke up against her cushions, Raven already gone.

Cass knows dating and she knows sex. This isn’t dating, she thinks, and granted – her track record of that might not be the best. There was Kon who just didn’t feel right in the end, and there was Zero who was nice and sweet and that was all he was and there was Brenda who… there was Brenda and they never got a chance.

She knows what’s supposed to be there, though. She knows what Barbara really says when she asks Dick to check in through the comm. She knows what Tim meant when he offered to help Steph with one of her classes. This isn’t dating because neither of them offers and neither of them asks.

This is sex and it's physical and that's odd because nothing about the way Raven moves is physical. It's odd because sex is a conversation, it can be a tense one, full of awkward silences or bitten back comments, it can be a teasing back and forth. Cass knows that better than most, she knows that what is being said is more important than how it's said.

She wants to focus on how Raven says it, though, she wants to focus on how Raven found the sensitive spot on her shoulder immediately, on how she catches Cass' earlobe with her lips and pushes her legs apart just as the wanton wave in her chest starts to rise.

Because the problem is, for the first time, Cass isn't sure what is being said.

That makes her uneasy. But she thinks she would miss it if she were to wake up with her face against the cushions again.

***

The world almost ended; it feels like the world is trying to end itself every other week so there's always work for Cass to do.

She's pretty sure the work caused her internal bleeding, though, and Raven seems to agree. Her hands feel cold and delicate and Cass' head is swirling like Alfred put it through a blender, her chest, her stomach feeling like they caved in after years of unnecessary and unexpected pressure.

The stony weight in her chest dissipates, it tingles away, pins and needles in her stomach and chest until she can breathe again. Cass opens her eyes and three figures hover over her, their concern heavy in the tension of their muscles even through hard panes of their costumes. She swats her hand at Bruce and Duke, she doesn't dare extend the gesture to Raven. Cass rarely can make out clear lines of her body like she can now; Raven is worried and she's holding it back.

She opens her mouth to reassure them, them or her, but Raven tugs the top of her costume down over her stomach, covering the skin that should be bruised and mauled. She lays her hand there momentarily, meeting Cass' eyes and before Cass can take her in, she's up and she's away, checking on someone else's injuries.

Bruce helps her up while Duke blinks in disbelief. He doesn't have to clarify what he means when he says, "You are unbelievable."

Bruce thinks he means the stunt she pulled to get her stomach smashed in and launches into a longish telling-off. Cass lets him. There's only love and concern in his stance.

Bruce checks on her later and tells her to take the pilot seat in the Batplane.

"You know, Cass," Dick pipes up from somewhere behind her and if he comments on her piloting again, she might throw something at him. "It's nice to see you get along with Titans, you could make some good friends there."

"It's true, Cassie," Bruce agrees.

Cass can't turn around to look at Duke, but she can imagine his face. "Unbelievable," he sighs like he's in pain.

Her family really should trust her intuition more. Theirs barely ever works.

***

People in Gotham wind up scared to death and it's not Scarecrow so Cass takes Dick's expertise and goes to the best source she knows. Bruce grumbles about metahumans in Gotham so Dick tells him "you can tell her that yourself" which shuts Bruce up. Cass thinks it's funny because Raven makes her ask for straws in restaurants.

"It looks like Phobia," Raven frowns at the Titans computer with Batman's files displayed. She's not worried or anxious, there's a bit of a weight in her shoulders, some disappointment in the realisation that someone else might not have caught but Cass can see it from where she's perched on the conference table. Raven looks sad and even more so, she looks human and Cass thinks she hasn't thought that about Raven before - not with both of them clothed.

There must be a story there, Cass might not know the details but she thinks she understands the emotions behind it.

"I'm sorry," she doesn't mean it to express her guilt because she has no place in that story. Cass heard it said this way before instead, the way that invites to share the burden or says that you already have and she's not sure why she wants to say it like this but - she does want to. She hopes she knows how, that the words sound correct.

Raven turns around to look at her and Cass knows she understood. She grips the edges of the table hard as Raven's hands slip over her own, opens her legs apart to let her slot herself in that space. Her stomach is tight, wounding itself up in knots and she touches Ravens cheek, her jaw, her lips with her fingertips like she's trying to read her. Maybe she is, because Cass can't figure out what Raven is saying by letting her breath warm up the air between their faces, breaking their eye contact by pressing her cheek against Cass' own like she doesn't actually want to be seen but Raven’s hands move away from her hands and slide up Cass' thighs, underneath the hem of her hoodie dress and Cass thinks oh.

Oh. She offered. She's not sure if Raven asked but she offered and this isn't sex, Cass thinks as Raven's hand slides to her inner thigh and up and through one of the fishnet holes.

This is comfort, this isn't her just offering comfort, this is both of them seeking it out. This is companionship and this is blood rushing to her head even before feeling Raven’s careful, delicate touch and this is her heartbeat seeming uneven and her hand resting on the back of Raven’s head and her other hand grabbing onto Raven’s sweater before the thought of it enters her mind.

Oh, they are really in it now.

***

It's not unfamiliar but it's different. It should make Cass feel more uneasy. It should make her feel uneasy that she can't read Raven well enough to know why she responds, just how she responds.

Some bodies are confusing, she knows that, they move according to whatever inner logic they construct and Cass doesn't always know how they tell themselves these stories and they don't always make sense to her but they are always consistent. They follow the internal storyline and she might not understand the world-building but she gets the plot points.

Ravens storyline feels and looks... fragmented, broken up, like she put together different pieces that lack context, that don't follow the same storytelling rules. She lays next to Cass, her body soft and pliable and then she will doze off and tense in her sleep like she's keeping watch but Cass knows nightmares and she knows Raven doesn't have those. Sometimes Raven whispers into her skin but Cass never understands the language, she's not sure if Raven is even speaking to her because it feels private, it feels like Raven’s confirming something for herself only. They will head out to grab food and Raven will fix her jacket collar, brush her fingers across Cass' face and move away, her body devoid of meaning.

Cass can't understand the narrative but the scenes she catches onto, the lines and settings she grabs onto because it feels impossible to just let them hang there - it carves itself in her bones, it makes her feel like the energy that enters the room with Raven is thrumming through her fingertips, her nerve endings. There's the power and there's Raven; Raven is the power but she's also the delicacy and the phone calls she misses just to search the number and the reality shows that she doesn't like but they still make her laugh and the passionfruit allergy Cass only knows she ignores because she can taste the tartness on her tongue.

She knows the story is there but she can't access it. She's not sure if Raven can or if- or if she just doesn't want Cas to do so.

Cass should be concerned but the pit in her stomach isn't concern. It's worse.

Raven is in Gotham now; she's not so much chasing a hunch but rather following her gut and so Cass decides to follow her own on a different matter.

So, she throws herself into patrolling the west side because she knows Raven and Dick are on the east side. Gotham picked tonight to rest, it's a quiet patrol which is unfortunate as Cass would love to punch her feelings out. She mopes around on a gargoyle, considers calling Oracle and hiding in her holo-room instead but then there's a flash of yellow and Duke lands lightly on his feet in front of her. He looks extremely unimpressed.

"I think Batman likes to brood on the west side gargoyles more. You should try those," he's teasing but she thinks there's some truth to that.

"I'm not brooding," it sounds weak and Cass can't even blame her disability on that.

Duke looks at her sceptically and then really looks at her. Cass wants to grab her grapple gun and swing away from his gaze but he speaks up quicker than she expected him to. "You're actually not. Oh wow. You're really in it now."

Cass loves her brothers more than anything; there's nothing she wouldn’t do to stop any harm coming their way. That doesn't stop her from half-heartedly throwing one of her Batarangs at Duke.

She knew he would dodge it.

***

Cass can't hide from Raven, not really, maybe she doesn't want to. Raven finds her in the Batcave and she doesn't have to say that Gotham is getting to her, this time the tension in her body is clear.

So, she lets Raven whisk them away. The metaphysics of Ravens travel isn't Cass' favorite but she can forgive it. The sand under her naked body feels nice and cool, goosebumps rising along her arms and legs and she stretches out to uncover more skin.

Cass looks to the side and Raven seems lost in thought, her thumb going over the material of the jacket Cass threw over her shoulders. The small bonfire Cass lit to sooth the goosebumps on Raven’s legs illuminates her but doesn't add any warmth. It casts shadows on the few exposed bits of skin; Cass wants to piece together a story from the shapes playing out.

"We just try to change it, but it always seems to bounce back," Raven says, lips glistening in the warm light; Cass doesn't know the world-building, but she catches the plot point.

"Then we do it because it makes sense," Cass says, stumbling over the words only a little, and Raven looks at her, really looks at her, and the goosebumps on Cass' skin have little to do with the breeze and the ocean roars in her ears.

She thinks Raven is piecing together her own story from the shadows behind her words and the pit in her chest tightens but maybe she wants to push through that-

-but then the jacket drops from her shoulders and Raven has sand on her skin and she tastes like Cass.

***

Dick swings on the bars like his joints have no limits on the angles they can take and Cass copies the moves, Steph following suit. She tends to neglect stretching and flexibility part of her training sometimes but her muscles start to burn quickly, reminding her why it's not optional.

Dick lands steadily, takes a look at the clock on the gym wall and grabs the towel Barbara throws at him. "Gotta go. I'm taking Raven to lunch, she can't leave Gotham without trying the vegan Nightwings."

"She doesn't like them," Cass says automatically and chokes on her water when Dick turns to her puzzled.

"So, that's why I barely see you anymore," Barbara teases as Steph laughs hard and Cass puts her hoodie over her head to pretend she's not there.

When she emerges again, Dick looks like he's investigating the case of his lifetime. "I didn't even know Raven was gay."

"She could be bisexual, " Steph throws her arm over Cass' shoulders. "I get it, she has that whole mysterious Victorian ghost shtick going on, like you just want her to hold your face and recite Charlotte Brontë," she stops, freezes a little in her confusion. "Am I bisexual?"

Dick's puzzlement turns into full shock. "Wait, we thought you knew."

"Listen, Cass," says Barbara firmly. Cass has to focus on her words through Steph's rambling right next to her ear, "however you feel, she knows. And she's still here."

Barbara doesn't read people like Cass does but she does know her.

The narrative straightens itself in the tiniest way. Cass thinks that's enough.

***

Maybe Raven is haunted by emotions like Cass is haunted by bodies. Maybe they are both haunted by narratives.

Maybe Raven is haunted by the power the way Cass is haunted by the delicacy.

Maybe it's offering and asking and along the way they both stopped asking.

***

Raven brings Phobia down with her and Duke is there to catch her; he checks Phobia’s pulse and her breathing and Cass let's him, her body is loose and her breathing is shallow but it's steady. It's not her priority and it doesn't have to be.

Raven feels and looks drained and Cass is there to fall with her, cushion her knees when they hit the floor, hold her back steady with her arm. She reaches up to brush Ravens hair off her face; she will tell her later to stop leaving it down when costumed because that's just not safe but maybe Raven's perception isn't affected by such earthly things and so maybe she will ask instead-

-and Raven looks at her as Cass' fingers brush her temple and her chest blooms instead of tightening under Raven's steady eyes, so Cass follows her gut and tilts Raven's head up to meet her lips with her own.

"Guys, not right now," Duke groans behind her.

"You knew?!" Cass isn't sure when Dick found them but she doesn't care, not with how Raven hides her face in the bat on her chest because now Cass knows that Raven does blush on her chest when she's embarrassed.

She hides her own face in Raven's hair and it smells like sandalwood. It smells like Cass' own shampoo.

***

Cass sneaks through the Manor halls with purpose until Bruce steps in her path while leaving his office. He stops so she follows, even though it takes him a moment to come up with words. It's okay, she knows the feeling.

"I didn't know you were seeing anyone," he offers; he looks awkward and embarrassed but his voice sounds steady.

 Cass meets his gaze. "Kon," she says; it's enough to make Bruce cringe with understanding.

He doesn't need to offer apologies, he's been trying to do so for years and now her fridge is full of honeydew melons. They stand there for a moment; Cass can see Bruce is piecing together the shadows. "That girl from Blüdhaven-"

"Brenda," Cass cuts in; the sting is there but it doesn't linger. "I really liked her."

Bruce nods. "Ask if she'd like to stay for dinner. Alfred will make her anyway but it's polite."

Cass smiles and sneaks past him, squeezing his arm briefly.

***

Cass slips inside the guest bedroom Raven took during her stay, closes the door behind her.

Raven is sitting at the foot of the bed, her cape in one of her hands, a sewing needle in the other, mending a hole she must have accidentally ripped at some point last night. Cass is sure Alfred would take care of it if Raven left the cape here but maybe that's too close to asking for her. Or maybe Raven likes to keep parts of her to herself just that much. Cass will be sure to ask later.

She sits next to her, loops her arm around Raven's back to keep herself up while she drops a kiss onto Raven’s shoulder. "Stay for dinner?"

Raven smiles, sets the needle and the cape aside carefully.

***

They are late for dinner, Raven thinks cantaloupes are superior, and Bruce looks like he has a headache.

Dating is nice, Cass thinks.

[catgirltitties]

Todays funny ea story. Just another “late night food pickup” time on my big list of those.

This is mostly a diary to add to my collection, its barely interesting.

This ones similar to a lot of ones ive had before and told before, but i havent said much on this matter before. But basically there are plenty of times where i have a weird experience with getting food from a new place late at night because im

-hungry from not eating all day (exec dysf)

-restricted in what i can eat (vegan, autistic w/ taste sensitivity)

-places are barely open (i work till pretty late)

So, when i cant decide on a place to eat, i have to scramble and find a new spot, taking like 30 minutes searching “late night vegan food near me” through a buncha menus. The biggest example of it was when i went to a lebanese spot, but i can probably link my old pics documenting that one.

This one is mostly just something for me to talk about because it reminds me of a post i saw once; i dont have it but the basic of it was that it talked about a couple where one of them had taste sensitivity and one had social anxiety. The taste sensitive person couldnt get their order wrong and the socially anxious person couldnt speak up if the order was wrong. They worked together though and made sure that they could remedy both problems by being extra polite with their specific orders. I remember reading the story bein like

oh shit im both

So nowadays i get specific orders and tip every time i do, sneaking some in if i have to. Both of them are a part of me though, and usually one wins out and i end up with the worst of both worlds.

Tonight i was hungry at work and decided i would get some local vietnamese place. Since i have been enjoying placing orders beforehand and then picking em up recently, i did that before leaving work. I wanted the crispy vegetarian rice noodles mm oh i wanted them so bad. So i talked on the phone and asked them for it but i knew something was off.

I get to the spot, and the whole shopping center that it was in was partying man, there were lights everywhere. I stand outside for like 10 mins bc im too scared to ask where pickups are, then i walk in anyways and realize i was supposed to do that 10 minutes ago. The place was so loud and frantic and the workers were busting their ass off. So after confusedly talking with the folks they give me my order and its def not my order. And definitely far from vegan lmao. And the young guy working there explains that i wanted the mmmmmm oh my god the yummy vegetarian crispy noodles im getting cravings just thinking about it. Oh wait what were we talking about. Oh yeah, he was like “this dude wanted the number 80” and then she looked panicked so i was like “nah, its ok ma’m i’ll take this that looks yummy :)” and then more confusion until i tipped said thanks and left then they all smiled.

So i had this cup of pho with some extra raw beef to go with it. And the noodles were seperate. I started noshing on the fucking noodles just grabbing them out of the box like an animal in the middle of the parking lot. That was my big meal. I also ate a few bean sprouts.

Theres not much about all this that is interesting, but it was fun in the moment. And things like this really jumpstart my energy.

[sapphos-darlings]

I’m proud of my mother. She was born in the 50s into a conservative family, if you can consider them conservative in rural Finland in the 50s - the father brought in the food, the mother stayed home tending to a flood of kids never having the energy for all of them, leaving them often on their own to look after each other, hoping they’d all make it through the day but in the end, no one had the time to make sure. They were hunters and farmers, traditionally Christian as far as I can tell. The community they lived in had a lesbian couple that everyone knew about but nobody talked about; it was taboo and shameful. Being gay wasn’t right. My mum’s straight, too, so this was easy for her to internalize.

She became a mother late at at 37. I’m her only child. First, I was gnc. She wanted a daughter she could dress up pretty and pamper. I wanted nothing to do with dresses and my favourite way to pass the time was to climb trees and roll around in mud. My mum gave up on the dresses very fast. I played with wooden swords and bows that my dad and my neighbours built me. The neighbours told my parents I’d grow up to be a vegan feminist activist, in words that made sense for the time. Everyone knew I was strange.

My dad was mostly drunk and away from home, so my mum raised me much on her own. She never implied in any manner that what I was doing was wrong or improper or that I wasn’t good as I was. I had sleepovers with girls and boys all the way until early teenage, at which point we separated naturally. She once told me she was afraid what’d happen when I’d first have “boy troubles”. I never had boy troubles. She wasn’t prepared for the troubles I was going to have, though.

At 10 years old, we went to a concert together. I fell in love with the singer of the band and spent my next two years fawning over him. I think at this stage, everything was going as intended. I don’t think she even remembers this phase now, because last year, she asked me in all honesty if I’m a lesbian.

I’m not a lesbian, but you might not know that.

I was scared that I was when I turned 12 and found myself attracted to Avril Lavigne’s promo picture in a CD store. I got over my freakout in about ten minutes, but my attraction to women (not Lavigne) survived. At 14, I was involved in a weird relationship with a girl my age. I don’t remember much of it other than that I was very bad at playing relationship, and I feel guilty she left her girlfriend for that mess. At 15, I fell in love for the first time with a girl I’d love for the next decade, desperately, painfully. Between there somewhere, maybe at 13, my mum found me crying in a closet because my best friend had a crush on me and I was scared to tell her I didn’t want to be in a relationship with her. My mum stumbled over the word “boy” when she asked what “he” wanted of me. I know she knew then, but we never voiced it.

I met a crossdressing gay guy around that time. He went by the name Cherry and wore cybergoth outfits and makeup, and he turned 18 a couple weeks after I met him. My mum let me go to his birthday party and stay until 1am, and later go visit him in the capital on my own over multiple occasions, once personally meeting him and giving him a hug. He was wearing platform boots and hair extensions and probably fishnets on some part of his body. She loved him because he was like a big brother to me, and never questioned the way he presented himself or worried about him being a bad influence to me, because he made me happy and I felt safe and excited to be with him. I also had a major crush on him which I think everyone was well aware of, but it was a safe crush, because I was 13 and he was 18 and like a big brother to me, and I was a girl and he was gay and everyone knew that, too.

When I was 16 and we went on a vacation in Europe, I spent all of my time finding the means to talk to the girl I loved at all times. I racked up an insane phone bill and couldn’t care less about the Pride parade in Rome, because I would rather lock myself up in an overheated Internet shack that was no wider than our bathroom at home to talk to her for hours online. Then she met another girl and chose her to be her girlfriend, only to tell me years later she hadn’t chosen me because she was too afraid of losing me, which made no sense to me. I felt like my world had ended. I didn’t stop crying for weeks and I signed myself up in a hospital because I was afraid I’d kill myself over the heartbreak.

I think it was around that time I started going to Pride, too, but regularly only when I met my next girlfriend around 18. I was always scared to go to Pride, not because I was afraid of showing I was LGBT but because I was scared of being the target of an attack like a bombing or a shooting. One year, we were the target of a gas attack, but I didn’t even know that, because I was marching at a different section of the parade and only heard about it later in the news. I don’t know if my mum was aware we were dating then with this girl, but I think she did. I think at this stage she’d already settled on me being a lesbian, it was just unspoken between us. She’d once asked me, because I wrote fanfiction most of my teenage and I always showed it off to her because I was proud of what I was writing and it never occurred to me it might have been inappropriate or offensive that I was writing about gay relationships. She vehemently denied this for years, because according to her, she’d never spoken the word “lesbian” in her life, much less referring to me.

She did speak it, last year, though. I do believe she spoke it when I was a child, too, when she asked me if I was a lesbian. I know she did. I said I wasn’t, because I’m not, but I understand that the evidence stacked up against me. Obsession with same-sex media, Pride parades, girlfriends, girl crushes, heartbreaks over girls, never once a mention of a real boyfriend or any material boy crush aside from those I had to a few chosen celebrities, fictional characters and idols, all of whom were unattainable and never as strong and overwhelming as the love I so obviously felt for women - I don’t blame her for thinking I was a lesbian. I’m not sure if “bisexual” entered her vocabulary at any time before last year.

At 19, I came out to her as transgender. She said she didn’t understand but that she’d try her best and support me no matter what as long as I would be happy, and what I was doing was making me happier, as I was obviously unhappy and struggled with difficult mental health issues for most of my life. She accompanied me to my meetings at the gender clinic and spoke with my doctors and nurses to understand. She tried her best to remember my pronouns when speaking in English, and even though she failed and has always failed, she did learn to call me by my new name without a fault. She’s never regarded me as a man of any sort and that’s alright, because I had and have her support no matter what. So here we were for the main part of my 20s - she thought I was a lesbian and knew I’m transsexual.

It’s only these past two years we’ve really talked about any of this. That’s the size of the taboo she was raised with in terms of the LGBT matters. She might have asked me once if I was a lesbian before, but even to herself, she’s denied ever voicing that word. Last year, or a bit over, when I was 27 or 28, she finally did consciously voice the question over the phone: am I a lesbian?

No. But that was the first time I ever vocally came out as a bisexual. I’ve never hidden it, but I’ve never come out either. I’ve always just either “been” or left it unspoken. All my friends have always known, and all of the Internet has always known, and I’ve never kept it a secret, but within the family, it’s been unspoken.

She was alright with that. We talked about my transition a little bit, if I was happy with it, if it made me happier, or if I regretted it. (It made me happier, I’m happy with it. She was relieved to hear that.) Other than that, we’ve never spoken of it, but all of this is why I respect my mum more than I probably have ever respected anybody else.

I’m everything she was taught to think of shameful and bad her whole life, everything she struggled to accept as a part of “normal”, as something natural. I’m exclusively female-oriented bisexual, gender non-conforming, and a diagnosed and transitioned transsexual. She couldn’t possibly have a child deeper in the LGBT than I am. And not once in my life did she make me feel like I wasn’t good as I am, like I wasn’t allowed to be myself and express who I am and look up to the people I did. She always made sure I’d be safe to her best ability, but her concern never restricted my freedom to be myself and explore my identity, and her concern was never made to be my problem, or something I had to take responsibility of.

And this year, because the pandemic had moved the Pride parade by a few months and because that meant that my best friend (that girl I dated when I was 18) probably couldn’t join me because of her career situation, I asked mum if she’d come with me to Pride, because I don’t want to go alone. I fully expected this to be the last thing she couldn’t do. Earlier, she’d asked me to come to a gay movie with her because she really wanted to see it but couldn’t make herself go alone. That had been a throughoutly difficult experience for her - yes, she’d enjoyed the movie, but it had made her feel very conflicted because of the values she’d been raised with and the prejudices she was trying to fight. A Pride parade just seemed way beyond there - I just needed to ask because yes, I did need someone to go with, but also because I wanted to show her that I wanted to take her, and that she’s welcome to be a part of my life even in the ways that we’ve always been afraid to discuss. I’m happy to share my identity with her openly, because she’s been accepting and understanding of it and never given me a reason to feel like I can’t be honest with her. It was more symbolic than anything. And like I expected, she did hesitate, but what I didn’t expect was that she’d tell me “yes”.

I’ve never been more proud of her than at that moment. I know how much it means to her to say “yes, I will come with you to Pride”. She had to reassure herself that for her, it doesn’t mean anything else than that she’s proud of me, and supports who I am and my right and the right of everyone like me to be who we are. I reassured her about it too - Pride is full of straight allies. Pride is full of parents, partners and children, even dogs and horses of people who are LGBT. She’s not making a statement about herself by being there. She doesn’t need to come out as gay to join Pride with me. She can just be there for me.

But it means the world to me that she agreed.

I’ve quite literally never been the girl she wanted me to be, and my friends were never the friends she imagined her child having when she was planning for me. But she’s never, in any manner, implied or let me think that she didn’t love me. She’s never made me feel like I wasn’t right for being who I am. She never let her doubts or questions or concerns or prejudices keep me from living my life and pursuing happiness as it came to me. Not once.

And for that, I’m proud of her. I couldn’t have a better mother.

[mattzerella-sticks]

The Silver Lining, Destiel Christmas/Hospital fic

Castiel expected to have a regular Christmas, the same he's had for all his life. Spent with family, exchanging presents and good cheer. Basking in the warmth of unconditional love. However, a twist of fate and a prank gone wrong leads him to experiencing a few new firsts.

His first trip to a hospital.

His first Christmas celebrated in a different location.

His first meeting with a certain man, suffering from a horrible case of food poisoning.

Of the three, he hopes the third is the first of many, many more. Is their encounter as rare as a Christmas miracle, or is it the gift that keeps on giving?

Cold. Wind races past his collar and sends shivers down his spine. ��Stupid Gabriel,” he growls, shuffling the ladder until it aligns securely against his house. Castiel huffs a foggy breath over his trembling hands, rubbing them together for warmth. “How he can see tangled lights in this weather…”

Snow buffets him on his way up, Castiel pausing at times so he won’t fall off. Halfway up the ladder, Castiel’s common sense tugs at his nerves. Warns him from moving any further in fear of endangering himself. But then Gabriel pops in and strangles the thought, gratingly reminding him that decorations need to be perfect so close to Christmas. “It’ll only take me a second anyway,” he says, climbing another rung, “In and out.”

He reaches the roof, gripping the edges for balance. Squinting, Castiel scans the decorations amassed for the error Gabriel saw. Neck straining from the effort. Finding no fault in the perimeter Castiel checks the larger display. Leans further onto the roof and blindly gropes for Santa and his sleigh of reindeer. His hand slides around a hoof and Castiel squeezes it, smiling.

Suddenly a window rushes open, slamming. Castiel flinches, the ladder teetering underneath. “What? No, no -”

“Merry Christmas Cassie!”

“ No !”

Castiel falls, plastic and metal scraping across his roof and drowning out his screams. Before he hits the ground, Castiel sees Rudolph flying into a nosedive. Hurdling closer until the reindeer is all he sees. He blinks, and the world fades.

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

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Tentatively, Castiel opens his eyes. Fights against the ten pound weights stretched across his face to re-enter consciousness. He groans, first from the overly bright lights shining above him and next because of a dull ache biting into his side. Castiel tries to rub his eyes, except he can barely find the strength to do so.

“Well… look who finally decided to join the party,” a voice drawls from the left, “It’s about time, really.” It takes too much effort for Castiel to turn his head so few inches. He scrapes together the energy and, in the process, answers important questions knocking around his head.

Like where was he? A hospital, no doubt, given the sterile white walls and medical equipment lying around. And the hanging television playing holiday reruns of, ironically, Doctor Sexy. Unfortunately his smolder doesn’t evoke any of the warmth and comfort it usually does. Pain takes prominence, especially when he moves. Castiel cannot glimpse the damage, but the amount radiating from his right worries him. What he can view are tubes criss-crossing around him and the sickly man hunched over the bed to his left: the owner of the voice. In need of a distraction, he focuses on him.

He watches Castiel with curiosity and tired amusement etched into his features. Pallored skin glistening with sweat, each freckle prominently on display like stars above a city suffering a blackout. The man wears a similar dressing gown to Castiel’s, accessorized with a bucket clutched tightly in his lap. “Hey,” he says, lips trembling, “you feeling okay?”

“I feel like shit.” Castiel’s gravelly voice sounds more so from disuse, croaking the reply. The other man chuckles from nearby, agreeing with his amateur diagnosis. Laughter becomes hacking, and his face disappears into the bucket for a moment. When the echoing coughs stop, the other man emerges. Castiel continues, “How long…?”

“Not sure,”  he shrugs, “I was rolled in earlier because they had nowhere else to place me…”

“Place…?”

“There’s not really a wing for food poisoning victims,” the other man explains, “they had to stick me where they could.”

Castiel skews his head to the side, stuffing it further into the pillow. “Food poisoning? You’re in the hospital… for that?”

He glares at him, wrapping his arms tighter around the bucket. IV scooting closer from being tugged. “Listen, pal, I didn’t think I had to be here either. But apparently I’ve got the white blood cell count of a newborn so… here I am.” His head falls back into the bucket. “Be lucky you missed the massive crap volcano that erupted out of my colon.”

“I doubt it was because of luck…”

“True,” his roommate sighs, rising from the bucket once more, “being under for most of it was more drugs than luck. Kind of grateful, though, because then you didn’t hear me yell, grunt, and curse throughout it all… Until…” He blanches, fingers dipping past the rim, “until I just told you.”

Castiel arches a brow, smirking. “Why did you?”

“Because I had no one to talk to this whole time and I hate silence,” he tells him, “Been narrating the past few lonely hours.”

“You’re… not tired?”

“Too nauseous to sleep, really.”

“Even after all that shitting?”

The man rolls his eyes, feet kicking freely underneath him. “It was some pretty rotten eggnog,” he says, “and Sammy promised that vegan crap was all kosher… didn’t see him or Eileen drinking any.”

A little bit of energy jumps into Castiel as he digests the tidbit of information. “Vegan eggnog put you in here?”

“Vegan eggnog and a bad case of the flu,” he defends, “I’m usually made of stronger stuff.”

“So am I,” Castiel says, “Hardly ever sick… once my entire family got bogged down by a nasty virus and I was the only one who managed to remain healthy. Was their nurse for an entire month… schlepping from one house to the next making sure they were feeling better.”

“Then I guess they can return the favor,” his roommate offers, “especially since what happened to you trumps any cold.”

Castiel’s good mood dips low, and his body sags with the reminder of their situation. “Right,” he says, “Uh… exactly what happened to me?”

The man pauses, grin slipping into a tiny frown. “You mean you don’t know? Or… remember?”

“Remember what?”

“Hell I doubt I’d ever be able to forget if that happened to me…”

“What are you talking -” Castiel chokes, dam bursting and the memories flooding over him. He shivers immediately, hospital gone and replaced with the blustery winds from outside his house. Snow falling in clumps from above, doing their best to bury him. Already he thought a blanket of white crushed his chest.

Then Hannah’s face pops into view. Scared, speaking in a way that Castiel cannot fully understand. She’s on the phone, gibberish grating to his ears. So he lolls his head to the side and watches his other sister, Anna, shove at Gabriel with a monstrous expression on her face. The one she wore when it meant their brother dug a hole so deep he couldn’t climb out of it. He remembers smiling, a few of the words cutting through the ringing in his ears to reach his brain. ‘Idiot’, ‘thinking’, ‘killed’, and ‘prank’ are all he heard.

Nearby the burgeoning fight, his friend Kelly tries her best to talk to Jack. Castiel’s nephew won’t tear his eyes away from him. Lazily he shooed him off, trying his best to help. That only brought more focus onto him.

“No, Castiel,” Hannah said, clear for the first time. She wrangled his arms to the ground with haggard breaths. “Keep them lowered to stem the blood flow.”

“Blood flow?” he asked, “What do you mean, blood -”

Blood. So much of it, trickling from where an antler punctured his side.What he thought was snow revealed itself as the broken figure of the reindeer that fell from Santa’s sleigh alongside him.

Face intact, torn from the body at the neck, its black, plastic eyes trapped him. Made it impossible to look away. Even when the paramedics finally arrived and began asking him questions, he answered in a daze. When they removed the decoration, Castiel followed the head with his own until it disappeared from sight.

The next sequence of events plays in pieces. Being patched and carried into the ambulance, Hannah choosing to go with him. Her answering questions for him. Any allergies? Only to shellfish. Medical history? Until now, spotless. The calm, automatic doors at the hospital that betray the urgency of any situation. Doctors and nurses in festive gear descending and doing their best. A prick in his arm and the fuzzying of his senses.

Waking up in a strange room, with a stranger affected by serious food poisoning who has gotten up and leans way too close.

“...come on man, I’m so sorry,” he says, “I thought you knew. I didn’t know - when I asked she said you should be fine. They fixed you up really good, able to save the kidney -”

“My kidney?” Castiel gasps, “It… it hit my kidney?”

“Punctured it in three different parts,” the man tells him, “all clean entries, plastic intact, so no serious problems.”

His mind recovers from the panic, gripping onto the facts presented like a crutch. Thankful for the assurance, but also curious. “How do you know this?”

His roommate’s face shifts from pale to deliriously red, and he shuffles a few steps back. “I… I kinda asked the nurse when she came to check on me?” he winces, “you were still out cold and… there’s nothing really on TV except Christmas specials. If you ask me the last thing I want to be reminded of is Christmas while I’m stuck here…”

Dosed again with a bruising reminder, Castiel finds his injuries doubling and heart plummeting. “Stuck in the hospital on Christmas… it is Christmas, right?”

“Well…” the other man shrugs, “almost. It’s Christmas Eve, but in a few hours…”

“So I’ve been out for an entire day?”

“Seems like it. At least you’re up, from how the nurse put it you were going to be under for awhile - at least until after the holidays.”

Castiel scoffs, “A Christmas miracle…”

“Hey, could be worse.”

“How?”

“Imagine waking up alone,” the man says, squeezing his shoulder, “without this handsome face to greet you.” He winks, charm sparking like a flickering lighter. One that fails easily since a disturbing gurgle cuts through and makes his flirty expression shift into disease. Flies away from Castiel towards the bucket on his bed and bends over it, exposing the festive boxers hidden under his gown. While aware of what his roommate does, it can’t dull the warmth caused from his wink nor the sight of his shapely snowflake-covered ass.

Castiel squeezes the blanket, averting his gaze when the measured pace of the heart monitor picks up slightly. Careful not to disturb the tube he’s sure is lodged to help him pee. Measures his breaths and thinks of horrid things to stem the blood and direct it elsewhere.

Finished, the other man flips and wipes at his mouth. “Here I thought there was nothing left in me,” he gasps, “Sorry you had to see me like that.”

He shrugs, cheeks burning. “You needn’t apologize, you couldn’t help it.”

“Yeah… but I mean, I at least know the names of the guys who I ralph in front of.”

“You mean you didn’t ask for my name when you did my medical history?” His roommate stumbles slightly, tripping over his words in a rush to defend himself. Castiel savors the brief awkwardness before paving over it. “Castiel. My name’s Castiel.”

“Castiel?” The man’s eyes gloss over while processing the name, a look Castiel was oft familiar with.

“It’s… not the most common of names,” he grins wryly, “My father named me - and all my siblings - after characters from his favorite book.”

“What books was that?”

“The Bible.”

Nodding, his roommate drums his fingers against the bucket. A different sound since it’s slightly full. “I mean, it is a good book. The good book.”

"Exactly."

Silence drifts over while they awkwardly bait the other to continue the conversation. Castiel wins, patience one of his virtues. Not the first he waited someone out, and it won't be the last. “So was he one of those religious guys?” he asks, tapping the form of a cross, “Or a… religious guy ?” The balled fists stacked on top of each other, like holding a sign, is easy to interpret.

“Neither,” Castiel tells him, “he got wrapped up in this cult when he was younger, the one Rose McGowan was a part of. When he finally left, he didn’t really give up on the faith. And… well, he already named half my siblings after angels. It’d be stranger if he stopped after Anael -”

“Anael?”

“She found a workaround,” he says, “Anna. Better than my brother Lucifer who chooses to go by his full name. The only one who lucked out was Hannah who got the most normal name of my siblings. Why he couldn’t do the same for me I’ll never know.”

“Hey, Castiel’s a cool name… bet the angel you were named after was a badass,” his roommate smirks, “ I was named after my grandmother, Deanna.”

“So your name’s Deanna?”

“ Dean ,” he purrs, the name curling perfectly under his lips. Teeth flashing in a suggestive manner like its done probably hundreds of times in the past. “Dean Winchester.”

“Well,” Castiel mirrors his expression, “it’s nice to officially meet you, Dean Winchester .”

Dean wiggles his bucket, bowing slightly. “Likewise, Castiel…”

“...Shurley -”

“Shurley. Castiel Shurley, right right right.”

He giggles, enjoying the full body production Dean performs. Attempting a casual facade, crossing one leg over the other while he leans on one hand. The other firing an imaginary bullet from his finger gun. Except he forgets the hand leaning was perched on the bucket, and Dean starts tipping. Vomit sloshes inside the bucket and, after precarious teetering from both parties, both Dean and his bucket remain standing. No mess, but tons of stress.

“Any chance you can pretend that didn’t happen?” Dean asks.

Castiel shakes his head. “Trust me, Dean, on the list of embarrassing things you’ve done tonight this hardly ranks in the top ten.”

“Well shit,” Dean sighs, hopping up onto his bed, “At least it means I can’t make anything worse.”

“The night’s still young…”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Cas.”

They laugh, only stopping when the pain in Castiel’s side nastily barges in on their merriment. Reminds him why he and Dean met in the first place. He hisses, vision blackening for a moment. When it returns, Dean is perched on the edge of his bed with worry. “Dean -”

“Are you okay?”

Castiel tries to reassure Dean he’s fine, but another current of pain shocks him. His knees buck up and the heart monitor beeps too loudly and the injured side feels like a meteor burning up in the atmosphere on its path towards crashing into the Earth. Sweat pours down his forehead and his limbs twitch in aborted movements. Dancing like a marionette, controlled by the intolerable cramping.

Minutes flash by like pages from a comic book. A cool touch brushes against his head, drawing one eye open. Its Dean. He appears calm while speaking to Castiel, but the fear is evident in his shiny eyes and trembling lips. In the throes of his pain it plants a seed of comfort, and he focuses on tending to that while dealing with it all.

Then someone rushes in, sneakers squeaking against the linoleum flooring. She removes Dean from view, taking up space and asking questions Castiel cannot answer. When it’s apparent, she switches tactics and scans his station. Finding what she needs, his savior calls to another person who was waiting by the door.

They dip into the hallway, returning moments later with a full bag of clear liquid. The woman who first ran in takes it from the one who brought it, fiddling above Castiel and out of sight. When she crosses his gaze again the full bag is empty. She shoves it into the hands of the nurse. Barks a terse sentence and orders her out.

Time returns to its normal pacing while Castiel’s body melts into the bed and the pain recedes into nothingness. His mind sharpens into awareness briefly and then dulls considerably with each second.

“Is this okay Mr. Shurley?” she asks, pressing around his wound, “Are you feeling anything at all?”

Castiel giggles, her actions tickling the focal point of his trauma. “Not a thing.”

“Perfect,” she sighs, flicking the full bag hanging from the stand in front of her. “So sorry that you had to experience that. A nurse should’ve been by to swap your morphine drip hours ago.”

“My morphine…?”

“Yes, your drugs,” she tells him, smirking, “what’s making it possible for you and I to have a conversation where you can contribute freely instead of in panted moans and grunts.”

Another round of laughter forces its way from his chest and makes his cheeks stretch awfully far. “I like morphine,” he says, “Can I take it home with me?”

“If only it wasn’t highly addicting,” she sighs, swiping at his nose with her finger, “Unfortunately no, but at least you won’t be leaving us so soon you’ll have to give it up right away.”

“Awesome...”

“If that’s all.” She nods, turning to Dean. “Thank you for paging me, it could’ve been much worse had he been alone.”

Dean sags against his bed, grin as large as Castiel’s. “Makes this food poisoning worth it, Doc Masters.”

“Silver lining to everything,” Masters winks. The doctor waves farewell, paying extra attention to Castiel. “Sweet dreams, Mr. Shurley.”

“Bye bye…” Castiel says, head lolling towards Dean, “What did she mean by that?”

“By what?”

“Sweet dreams?” he slurs, “Does she think I’m going to fall asleep?”

Dean’s expression softens, and he drifts closer to Castiel once more. “Yeah, you will. Morphine’s already pumping strong… shouldn’t be long until you’re back under and I’m… I am alone again .”

“ No ,” Castiel whines, throwing a tantrum. Not a good one since his limbs fly without his input, wiggling like jelly. “I don’t want to go to sleep.” Dean calms him, guiding his wrists to the bed.

“You don’t have a choice in it, Cas,” he says, “but… it’s nice to hear you want to stay with me.”

He agrees with Dean, heating up again in a delightful way. “You’re very nice… even if you throw up a lot and can’t handle vegan eggnog.”

Dean scoffs, “I can handle it, when it’s made well. But it’s not my first choice. Give me meat any day.”

“I love meat.”

“We have that in common, then.”

“Do we?” Castiel asks, skewing his head to the side, “You enjoy intercourse with two penises or more, too?”

He chokes, grip on Castiel’s wrists wilting. Dean gapes at him, color draining from his face for an entirely different reason.

In the seconds between his outburst and Dean’s answer, Castiel mulls over what he said. Clarity shines through his foggy mind and he realizes how personal a question he asked his roommate, a practical stranger. His high fades under the sweltering self-consciousness, Dean’s proximity less intoxicating and more anxiety-inducing.

His heart monitor either beeps too fast or not at all since he can’t tell if the ringing in his ears is from it or borne from the screams he refuses to release.

Thankfully Dean starts talking, and the voice inside silences. “I… I’ve never had the opportunity for more… my experience cuts off after two.”

The fuzziness resurfaces with a vengeance, strengthened by Dean’s answer. Caught off guard, Castiel hums. “Oh, well… it’s fun. But, also difficult.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Are you interested in leveling up your experience?”

“Actually,” Dean’s gaze dips towards Castiel’s lips, trailing up to his eyes slowly. “I’m… I’m more of a two-dick guy. Mine and… I don’t know?”

“You don’t know?” Castiel frowns, “that’s depressing.”

Dean laughs like a sad, twinkling bell. “Yeah, it sucks not knowing which other dick you want your dick to spend the rest of your life rubbing up against.”

Castiel nods, “Even more when you’re the only one without a second dick or a vagina to love you unconditionally. And no matter how successful your life is your family looks at you like an awkward throw pillow. They don’t know what to do with it or where to put it.”

“Exactly how it feels,” Dean says, “I… it’s not easy being lonely. Especially around this time of year.”

“But we’re not lonely,” he tells him, “we have each other.”

“That we do Cas… that we do.”

Potential sparks to life in Dean’s eyes, fascinating Castiel. He stares intently into them, watching the verdant fields in the other man’s gaze burn. No intention in calling the fire department to douse the inferno. Castiel wants to watch it forever.

Every blink becomes heavier, harder to remain open with the weights sliding across his eyes. “I don’t want to go to sleep.”

“You need to,” Dean says, “so you can get better.”

“But won’t you be alone again?”

“Nah,” Dean smirks, “it’s like you said. We have each other.”

“Good.” Castiel yawns, stretching far enough his toes peek past the blanket. “I… I really think I should go to sleep now.”

Dean agrees, peeling himself off of Castiel. He shivers with his absence. Castiel stops fighting against the morphine and allows it to drag him into unconsciousness. Dean’s face the last thing he sees when his eyes shut for good.

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

When Castiel wakes up again, he’s surrounded. His family sit on an assembled pile of chairs, chatting in festive gear while he stumbles into awareness.

Jack notices first, clapping on his mother’s lap and smiling with missing teeth. “Uncle Cas! Uncle Cas!”

Conversation stalls, and every face in the room turns to him. He smiles weakly, waving his hand off the bed as far as he can. “Hi,” he croaks, “how’s everyone doing?”

Gabriel laughs tiredly, scrubbing at his face. “Shived by Rudolph and he’s still thinking about others. Doesn’t that just jolly your holly -”

“Zip it Gabriel,” Anna whacks his chest, “you more than anyone else don’t get to make jokes about this.”

“Oh come on!” he cries, “The doctor said it was a non-threatening injury!”

“Because we called the paramedics,” she says, “and, by luck , your dumb prank only managed to cost him a kidney.”

“Not even! They said it would heal -”

“Guys!” Hannah interrupts their bickering, “Can you save it for later? Maybe after Castiel tells us how he feels?”

Reminded of his presence, his brother and sister sheepishly offer apologies. Castiel forgives them easily, especially his brother. “While it was stupid, I’m not dead.”

“Glad to hear it -”

“But,” Castiel continues, smirking, “I do expect a lot of attention and care… just because I’m willing to forgive doesn’t mean it’s easy to forget. Or move… or pee, I’m guessing.”

Gabriel huffs, crossing his arms. “Should’ve seen this coming.”

“Oh be glad,” Kelly says, “out of everything that could’ve happened, this is the best you could ask for.”

He relents, accepting his fate for the present. Satisfied, Castiel relaxes in bed while conversation resurges. This time filling him in on what happened while he was stuck in the hospital. From muted celebration on the Eve to a rapid exchange of presents in his house so they could arrive when visiting hours started.

“We might have left a few to open when you came home,” Anna admits, “So you didn’t miss all the fun.”

“Thank you…” Castiel holds his tongue, preferring the others to continue without his input. Finds comfort in how bright and cheerful the room feels with their presence. Reminded of a similar feeling, adjacent to the one overtaking his heart, Castiel looks to the other side of the room.

Only Dean’s bed is neat and empty. Not even the bucket was there.

“Wait,” he says, “where’s Dean?”

“What?” Gabriel asks, following his gaze, “Oh? Is that who that was? Didn’t know you got so chummy with your roommate, Cassie.”

“Where is he?”

“He left,” Anna shrugs, “Doctors came in an hour after we arrived to give him the news he was free to go.”

“And he left with this giant of a man!” his brother says, “it was terrifying, truly, seeing someone that massive.”

“He was really cool, Uncle Cassie!” Jack says, bouncing, “He bought me a candy bar!”

Kelly sighs, trying to contain Jack’s energy. “So nice of him…”

“So that’s it?” Castiel asks, frowning, “he just… left?”

Hannah reaches across and squeezes his hand, mirroring him. “There wasn’t any reason for him to stay longer, Castiel.”

He deflates at his sister’s care, her good intentions like a needle to his ballooning happiness. Castiel sighs, tugging his hand free of her hold and folding it over his stomach. “Yes, I… I guess he didn’t.”

No one dare speak, the adults in the room trying to process how Castiel’s mood shifted. His usual defense, to cover disappointment with a carefully constructed mask, doesn’t rise up inside. Whether from the remaining morphine swimming in his system or overall tiredness, Castiel prefers allowing his feelings to play freely across his face.

Memories from last night are fuzzy, but he remembers the important things. How friendly Dean was, and caring. Comforting him when it wasn’t necessary, when he had his own troubles to deal with. The possibility he represented, created thanks to the unguarded confessions brought about by drugs.

He’s drawn from his memories of Dean’s smile by a knock on the door.

Doctor Masters stands there, a smile on her face and a stuffed bear in her hands. Castiel squints at the gift, a heart in its paws and a Santa cap on its head.

“Why hello there Mr. Shurley,” she says, stepping into the room, “glad to see you’re awake again. And not in pain.”

“Thank you,” he says, “I… Am I going to be in pain again?”

She shrugs, “Not likely. I checked up on you an hour after we switched your drip to make sure it was all okay. Got to talking with your roommate and he said you were doing fine until the pain became too much to bear. So I’ve decided to start weaning you off the good stuff, and giving you enough to not feel much but still be present.”

His face softens. “Exactly what I want.”

“Speaking of presents…” she smirks, fiddling with the bear, “someone asked me to give this to you once you woke up.”

Gabriel immediately teases him, shaking his shoulder. “Cassie, you sly dog. Did someone ‘While You Were Sleeping’ you?”

“I, I don’t -”

“Why don’t I leave this here, and you can process it without me,” Doctor Masters says. She places the bear on his lap, walking towards the exit. “I’m only the messenger. Besides, there’s a lot more people in this hospital besides you.”

He misses her goodbyes, examining the bear. Studies details like the red and white scarf wrapped around its neck and the poof ball at the end of its hat is shaped like a plus sign. The red heart has a message on its surface, ‘Get Better Soon’, and one between it and the bear.

A white envelope, easily lost in the white fur of the bear. Castiel frees it, giving the bear to a waiting Jack. He reads the name on the front and his stomach flutters with butterflies emerging from their cocoon.

CAS

“Well,” Anna urges him, “you gonna read it or what?”

Flipping it around, he sees the envelope is barely held together by a piece of scotch tape. It opens with no trouble, the card slipping out and into his hand.

The cover has a replica of the bear drawn on, holding its heart forward. Words tattooed to the heart in the stuffed animal balloon to the top of the cover, taking up a lot of the tundra scenery.

Castiel passes it, more interested in what’s written inside.

Dear Cas ,

Merry Christmas! I wish I could be there to see you wake up, but I know today is supposed to be spent with family.

Thank God it’s only one day a year.

If you want to meet during any of the other three-hundred, sixty four, here’s my number. I hope you call, because I think I’ve found the second penis I want to spend the rest of my life with .

He closes the card, dragging it to his face to hide the blush and skin-splitting face threatening to add more definition to his chin. His behavior only fans the flames of his family’s intrigue, both Anna and Gabriel leaning too far forward in their seats.

“Well,” Anna starts, “who’s it from?”

Castiel waits for his face to cool, and then says, “It’s from a friend.”

“A friend ,” Gabriel chuckles, rolling his eyes, “Like we’ll believe that.”

“He is a friend!”

“He’s also a Christmas miracle!”

His family laughs, and Castiel finds himself joining. Too filled with joy to find their antics annoying. Instead he jokes alongside them and, when they’ve calmed down, explain the night’s events and his secret Santa. Counting down to when visiting hours end and he can make use of the number inside the card.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

[darth-rainbow]

A Jace x Maia one shot post hook up

"It's that bartender isn't it? The beautiful one?"

"It's nothing serious."

Sure, it might be 'nothing serious' and yet, Jace stood at the entrance of Hunter's Moon, desperately seeking for a single person : Maia. She'd said it meant nothing too. But, really, you can't share the sort of moment they did and not feel something for someone. Jace, felt something for her. It was foreign, and new, and an amber compared to the brasero that had been his love for Clary. Ever consuming, but always burning bright.

Being with Maia, not as a lover, but as friend, had been incredibly entertaining. She was challenging in ways few bothered to be with him. She would bite back, always. And not just a nip, nope. Maia was deadly, powerful, intelligent. If she wanted to bite, she went for the jugular. Jace respected that. He respected someone who respected themselves, who seemed to love themselves even. Perhaps that's what he had felt first for her : admiration. For the woman who faced everything head on, clearly scarred by life too, but still living a much brighter existence that Jace could ever.

Maia was, bright. In a way that made one remember her, even after just a glance. In a way that made it easy to conjure an image of her smile for anyone who bothered trying. In a way that drew eyes to hers. Not because she was particularly loud or attention seeking, but simply because of her energy. She had the aura of someone who knew their self worth and valued it. Not cocky, not boastful. Just aware, inhabiting her body in ways that showed a confidence earned through experience.

Jace grinned, seeing the female walk out of a backdoor and appearing behind the bar. The blond ran his fingers through his hair, before making his way to the first empty stool. "I'll have a beer." He said.

Maia rose an eyebrow, lightly tilting her head to the side. "I didn't know Shadowhunters had lunch breaks." The female simply said, pouring him the ordered drink. "Or that they drank on the job."

"It's my day off." Jace replied.

"You guys get those?" Maia asked. "Isn't saving the world a full time job? And since you spend at least a couple of hours a day just on the hair, you really shouldn't have that much free time."

"Jace scoffed. "It naturally looks that good."

"Sure." She replied with an eye roll. "I mean, if your hair care products are vegan, then maybe yes, it's all natural." The werewolf added, sliding the beer towards the blond, a satisfied smile on his lips.

"Please, like you wake up looking like that." Jace replied, taking ahold of his pint of beer.

"The difference between you and I, Jace, is that I don't pretend I do." Maia replied, before heading towards a customer who'd called for her.

Uncharacteristically, Jace stuck around, sipping on a beer that easily grew warm in his grip. He hadn't really intended to. And he didn't really know what he was expecting or awaiting for, really. She'd said it, yesterday, their stint hadn't mean anything. And yet, he was there wasn't he? At Hunter's Moon, in the middle of the day. The blond rose an eyebrow when Maia slid past the counter, a coat shrugged on her shoulders. "You leavin'?" He asked.

She chuckled, choosing to ask back : "You care?" before actually offering an answer. "Yes, I'm planning to go the library and work on an essay due soon."

Jace rose both eyebrows. "You go to college?" He instantaneously regretting his question, watching the female flinch.

"Online course." Maia gently explained.

"Cool." The blond replied, giving a small nod.

The female smiled, tentative but proud. "Cool." She echoed softly, seemingly testing the word on her tongue. "Indeed." She finally added, in acquiescence. "Huh, anyway, I gatto, gotta," They both chuckled. "Gotta go. I gotta go."

Jace nodded. "Of course, don't let me hold you back." He put five dollars on the counter. "I was on my way out too anyway." The shadowhunter added, standing up. Maia nodded, heading towards the door of the bar, Jace a couple of steps behind her.

The werewolf held the door for the shadowhunter, a perplexed expression on her features. "I know it's not exactly any of my business. But... Day drinking?" She asked. "I'm not judging or anything. It's just new." She gave a small shrug. "And though I might not be your first choice, or even in the list of the choices you'd consider, well, I don't mind listening."

Jace's eyes widened. "Oh no! It's not like that! My life isn't, well," He furrowed his brows. "My life is objectively a mess. I'm not gonna bother denying that. But no more than yesterday I promise. It's just..." The blond chuckled. "It's stupid, really."

Maia furrowed her brows, a certain confusion on her features. "What is?" She inquired, sounding genuinely concerned for a second there.

Jace rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't, huh, I didn't come to the bar for the beer..." He replied, holding the female's gaze.

Maia blinked, confused for a couple of seconds before the realization dawned on her. "Oh." She said softly. "I..." She wet her bottom lip. "I don't really do meaningless Jace. Last night, it was..."

Maia shook her head. "I don't really know, to be honest. It was so not me..."

"But so utterly you at the same time?" Jace tentatively finished, earning himself a nod from the female. "Yeah I sorta feel the same."

"You feel?" Maia asked, frowning.

"Ouch." Jace said. "But fair. You've been acquainted with my book club after all."

Maia rose an eyebrow. "Is that what you call it? A book club?" She snorted at the euphemism. "Listen, Jace," She drew in a long breath, steeling herself for the declaration she was about to make. "I'm not Clary." Once those words were out, Maia let a short, huff-like exhale before she went on to elaborate : "And I don't want to even try to compare to her. So whatever lingering feelings you feel you have and think I can make disappear because you also happen to feel some fleeting attraction for me, just don't. Please. Spare me."

The blond opened his mouth, ready to retort before closing it, seeing the genuine hurt in the female's heart. It was odd to think, that Simon could break anyone's heart. Because he was the nice guy™. But he had, at the very least, bruised Maia's. And she was right. He still felt something for Clary. But forgetting wasn't what had drawn Jace to Maia. No. She was her own person. Interesting for reasons that had nothing to do with Jace needing to heal and everything to do with the girl's merit.

"Okay." He finally said softly. "Okay, I won't try anything. But please, don't think for a second that your only appeal would have been to help me forget Clary." He clarified. "Maia, you're too great for that. I like you, objectively, as friend, because yes we're friends, don't argue with me now." He chuckled. She grinned. "I like you because you're witty and that makes every single conversation with you funny and entertaining."

"I like you because you never asked anything from me and don't need anything from me. I like you because you respect me enough to call me out on my nonsense. I like you, because you're bright, and kind enough to lend a phone to a shady stranger who looks drenched and hopeless. And you have no idea how much that meant to me back then."

"Just like you have no idea how much it helped to talk to you about my last names changes. Nobody else really asked, or listened. But you, for some reason, you understood that I just desperately wanted a family. So maybe we shouldn't be together because in the long run it might not work out and eventually hurt each other. But I want you, no, I need you, I need you to know, that I would have been in for you. And only, for you."

"Jace," The female said softly.

"What?" The blond asked, daring to take a step closer to her.

"Kiss me." And Jace didn't need to be told twice, his lips just naturally found hers. There was a pull, really. Something magnetic. And yes, they could've pushed each other away, but for some reason, at that very moment, it wasn't friction, but attraction.

[papa-1-rights-activist]

Could you tell us some things about your characters?

thank you so much for this ask :D sorry for such a late response, but ngl i got very excited and started writing shit down as soon as i saw it, but then it turned into an entire essay and i had to cut down a ton of stuff until i decided to write it in a list of some sort kjhgkjfgkfg

currently i have like 11 fan characters in total so i will start with 4 to not infodump too much at a time

and i’ll admit that literally all of these guys were made for shipping purposes, but they all have different personalities and dynamics with canon characters. i’m such a sucker for writing couples, so many things to explore, that’s like my favourite thing ;w;

it got very long so imma put it under the cut \o/ (hopefully it works bc tumblr has been pretty unpredictable lately)

sorry if it’s probably way more than just “some things” but i couldn’t help it, i just love these guys so much and i don’t get to talk about them often u v u

e n j o y ~

imma start with the one you guys are more familiar with

Lucas

one of the cardinals in Ghost’s church

Mexican

in his late 40s (like 46-47)

hardworking, ambitious

pretty composed

huge „your teacher from english class who’s also a dad” energies

his character can be summed up to, as someone has said, „he’d kindly but sternly correct your shitty posture”

currently takes the 3rd place of most „best employee of the month” awards (Copia is 4th at that time)

he and Copia start off as rivals for the 2nd place (bc no one can beat whoever is the 1st)

but wouldn’t you guessed it, they end up dating

Lucas has a fair collection of various rodents, including rats. Actually, he’s the one who infected Copia with love for them. Luc prefers ferrets (that’s a rodent right kjhfgkjgh)

he doesn’t really get angry, but when he does he really goes off

he writes poetry, which is actually very, very bad, but Copia loves it to bits which makes Luc feel validated to write more

because his language is so similar to italian, Lucas can implement a lot of spanish into his conversations with Copia, while the other will reply in italian and they will still understand each other (ofc there are some exceptions that result in miscommunication, but that just makes it all more fun)

Copia shared with him that he’s writing music for his album (even tho he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone) and Lucas was more than happy to help him in the process…which was mostly moral support and a few suggestions.

he loves calling Copia “cariño”, “mi amorcito”, “mi alegría” and other cute names in spanish

once Lucas mentioned he used to play flute and Copia immediately decided to include a flute solo in one of his songs, so Luc could play it. Unfortunately things didn’t go as he planned and he had to change it to sax solo

The thing about Lucas is that Imperator sees him as a threat. She’s been plotting with Copia to get him to papacy for a long time, but in the end she isn’t the one who decides who will be in charge, so Copia has to work hard to deserve it. He was already a hard worker, but unfortunately Lucas works harder. It creates this dillema for Copia, bc on one hand he does want to become Papa and in order to do that he has to get rid off competition. But on the other he loves Lucas and he wants what’s best for him.

(i’ll probably post the pic above in a separate post with other doodles, i just wanted to show sth new and relevant)

Elise & Greg

Imma put these two together bc it’s impossible to talk about one without the other.

they work together in a company that takes art commisions such as paintings & murals and their restorations. They’re both pretty skilled in those departments, except Elise specialises in art restoration while Greg specialises in murals and frescos. And ofc one day they’re hired by the church.

they’re both pretty good at painting (but the thing about restoration is that you don’t have to be a great artist to do that, it has more to do with chemistry tbh)

They live together and have been very good friends for a few years now

they both went through some traumatic events in their lives, but maybe i’ll leave that part for another day (or i’ll leave it in my fanfic they’re from that i need to finish ;w;)

they’re very supportive of each other, but also they like to mess with one another

their chat is filled with horny texts about other people

Elise

34 years old

British

a bit awkward, tends to stutter when nervous

very sweet overall, feels the need to be everyone’s therapist

autistic, which shows mostly through her sensitivity to certain textures

hates onions (bc the texture is awful)

gets very emotional very quickly when she sees cute animals. She will use her baby talk to speak with them (which is sth that Copia does too with his rats and once he catches her doing that as well, he feels less embarrased about it)

Cirrus was the first one from the church to actually talk to her and show her around, making her feel a bit more welcome in an unfamiliar place

she talks through her sleep. A lot. Copia finds it very amusing…and adorable.

she discovers that Papa III has fallen hard for her friend way before he himself realises that, but then she’s also the kind of person to not see her own feelings for someone

she finds working on restoration quite relaxing. It’s sth she can fixate over and do for hours (even tho it’s not recommended)

a bit of a workaholic

another thing she finds relaxing is sitting in a corner somewhere warm and doodling people she sees around the abbey (mostly those she finds attractive lol so mostly Cirrus and Copia)

eventually ends up with Copia and Cirrus in a poly relationship

she also finds Cumulus cute, but the ghoulette isn’t interested in another romantic relationship. the one she has with Cirrus is enough for her.

Elise’s relationship with Copia is basically two dorks trying to impress the other while trying not to be too obvious about it, while her relationship with Cirrus is bisexual equivalent of „shy nerd has a crush on a cool girl leading the cheerleaders squad and shopes she doesn’t know. She knows.”

(had to doodle sth real quick bc i can’t believe that i don’t have a single good pic of him lol)

Greg

37 years old

Polish (bc ofc he is)

pretty stoic, might come off as cold

he gives cute nicknames to people he likes (in polish ofc)

he’s actually pretty cheesy and wholesome, but you wouldn’t know that bc he shows his affection through a language that no one understands (which is what he wants, he doesn’t want others to know he actually cares)

has some trust issues, so it’s harder for him to become friends with people

huge Scorpions fan. no, like really, he’s obsessed and will share his music taste with whoever will listen (which is mostly Eli and Papa III lol)

knows a few words in italian, but mostly those related to art after he’s been studying it for a few years. He doesn’t speak it, but he can read it.

he owns a guitar signed by Kirk Hammett (his musical crush)

he’s the kind of guy who will call the person he likes „my dear”, „my love”, „sweet pea” in his mother language and then tell that person it means „dickhead”, „loser” and „lazy ass”

his stay at the abbey is just laying under the ceiling and doing fresco for most of the day, visiting Elise in her art studio and dealing with Papa’s bullshit

Papa eventually starts coming up to lay beside Greg on the construction and watch him work. They tend to just lay in silence while a mix of Scorpions and ABBA plays from the radio. There’s barely any space for a second person, but Greg would lie if he said he didn’t find it endearing.

one time Greg fell off the construction and broke his leg bc of that dumbass (but it’s his dumbass uwu)

anyway he eventually starts dating Papa III

Papa purrs to Greg in italian and Greg speaks sweet words to him in polish (tho it took him a lot of time to get comfortable with that)

their relationship is your typical „1 brain cell and 1 dumbass” and under certain circumstances simply „2 disastrous dumbasses”

they once burnt down Elise’s apartment on accident and the only things they managed to save were the art supplies and Greg’s guitar

anyway

here are these guys in comparison to their partners in this silly style, bc all the other drawings are outdated ;w;

Melea

45 years old

American

fashion designer commissioned byt the Ghost’s church

huge fan of old rock

for a long time her relationship with Papa III was purely professional. He came to her studio, she took some measurements, they discussed what he would like and then he left and they didn’t see each other until the next meeting to try the outfit on, to make some changes, or for another project.

well that is until she asked him to stop putting his face paint on so he wouldn’t ruin the fabrics

i share this popular headcanon that Papa III is pretty self conscious about his clean face, so it was kind of hard to convince him at first

eventually their sessions became that much more personal because of that

she’s a bit superstitious, believing that some things may cause bad luck

collects crystals with good energy

she’s in a way a modern witch…but it’s not like she tries to be one

knows french fairly well, which allows her to talk to Papa (who also speaks it) when they don’t want others to understand them.

huge mum energy

loooves watching conspiracy theories. Sometimes she will pick one of the more ridiculous ones during her sessions with Papa and will argue and try to convince him it’s true, making it seem like she fully believes it, even if she doesn’t – just to fuck with him

and a few times she actually did convince him. Then had to tell him she wasn’t serious and oh my god the millenials aren’t killing the pillow industry by going vegan

anyway at some point they start dating which eventually leads to them getting married ;w;

her relationship with Papa is very soft and romantic. they have the same energy as Morticia and Gomez in regard of how loving they are to each other

also some chibis of these two bc again, all the other drawings are a bit outdated ;w;

[iamjulikakyelle]

WHO IS I? WHY IS I? WHAT IS I ABOUT?

Before we get all goofy and shit I will break it down to you. 

Take your time and enjoy the vibes.

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Creating a blog and actually working on it on a daily baiss has been a longtime wish of mine which I never actually aimed for in the end. Why tho?

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Until now.

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I started with creating and growing a supportive and loving, loyal, respectful and understanding community on my social media platform on Instagram - love ya´ll!

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However, as the time went by and I kept on growing and living I felt that even with all the feedback and replies and love I am receiving for being me and putting myself out there, some areas in my life didn´t have the proper channel to express them fully in all their forms and colors.

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This blog is personal. For me. For you. I will be going into more details than just my daily snippets of thoughts that you can see and read through on my profile.Most importantly is the fact that I do it for me, like I said. It is not selfish to want to invest in thyself and improve certain areas in your life. In the end this food for thought is for you, too.I´m like your wifey and mother at once that is picking up the ingredients and herbs wisely and select all the unnecessary bullshit out to make sure your mind/body and soul is properly nurtured and taking excellent care of. Cause I just want the best for you.I gotchu. I want to see you all win! Like honestly. Go for the bag sis - bruh, you deserve living your best life!

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I also perceive this as a test for myself, by stretching my comfort zone to the extend and putting myself out here in various ways.

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I said goodbye today to my longtime be(a)stie frenemy called - THE PROCRASTINATOR. What a sneaky little bastard he is. 

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Now is the time. When it feels most uncomfortable to do something new.That is where and when you grow. By taking on new habits.If you want a new life you have to move differently.At least that is how I deeply feel about it. If it doesn´t scare you even just a bit just know that you are too cozed up (ain´t a correct word but I also love creating new ones, who said I couldn´t, right? ) sitting on the sofa with your redbull in your left hand while the right hand is holding a cigarette, filling the entire room with a heavy scent of "I FEEL STUCK AND MY SOUL IS TIRED BUT MY DEAREST FRIEND PROGGY KNOWS BEST WHAT IS GOOD FOR ME AND WHAT ISN´T, RIGHT?!?!?".

You hear netflix playing twentyfive hours eight days in the week in the back but you don´t actually watch. You don´t even listen anymore. You doze off. Complety lost. You just want to comfort your loneliness with the sound of other people talking, it gives you the sweet feeling of not being actually all on your own in this shitty shit hole that you dived deep inside. But also not having to participate to any real conversation.Now get the fuck up and leave the corner of your comfort zone. More like killing zone.You won´t find your happiness in there. Nor success. Whatever that means to you.What you do not change - you chose. Easy right?!

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I chose me, over and over again. It is a process and you only get further by holding yourself accountable for everything that you put out into this very world.Confront your ego and let it shatter to the ground for once.Then pick up the pieces and reconstruct it in your own way. You are the chief, designer, regisseur, manager of your life.I as well have had days where I stood in my own way and resisted my true self to prosper.Just yesterday was such a day. What I am trying to tell you is that I ain´t perfect either. I am as well learning each day.. What do you chose? What habits do you pick up day after day while hearing your intuition trying to get to your head, screaming for justice and mercy to finally release whatever you continue to harm yourself with. You have to be on your own team, fam! To keep on telling you these white lies and acting like a snitch that doesn´t want to see someone win, well  here is a plot twist; you are the exact same person. So either way you feed your mind with belief and faith or continue to fail and mostly don´t even start a new thing cause you believe your doubts more than your heart.What a pity. What a shame. Ever thought about the heritage of your doubts? What you feel pulsing inside of your chest whenever you do what you where put on this earth to do, is with no doubt your mission. All the projections, negative comments from other people, family members and frenemies do not have ANYTHING and I mean that, to do with your purpose.Doesn´t matter if you believe in such thing as a purpose or not. That doesn´t minimize the fact. It is what it is. Facts.Start doing what you solely are passionate about. To only give you a little spicy taste of my traintrack of thoughts. This the vibe we on now. 

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I will be speaking openly about sexual traumas, sexuality in general, that includes sexual desires, how to tap into your sexual energy, what is a sexual energy, how to use it for creating more than just a baby, lack of confidence, how to ask for help, easy steps to love your own self, drug abuse, veganism and what this"trend" is actually about, conspiracy threaths, knowledge of the self - the highest, conversations I have with my higher self -  she a queen, what I eat, what I don´t eat, why I eat what I eat, subliminals and binaural beats, how to transform your dna with theta waves, how I manifest, what techniques do I practice, witchcraft, christianity and satanism, why I love and admire fashion and how/why my style improved over the last years, breakups and lessons, trust and loyalty. why honest real talk is significant for humankind, how to spot toxic friendships/relationships and more and deeper tings.

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Take a seat. if you hear the call. Picc it up babe, it is for you. Your time is now. You deserve all that you desire late at night before you rise up to other and higher realms.I am guiding you through it, with patience, dedication, commitment, grace, honesty, shapeshifting into your highest version. I help you get you YOU.

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I am here to inspire, to wake you up, to be a freak, with you. To embrace our soft parts and wildest dreams. To help each other grow and support one another. By giving constructive feedback cause all we want to do is build one another up cause we love seeing someone glow and reach their goals! Yea, face it, we may all have similar dreams, goals, things we want to achieve in our lives but isn´t that in particular what makes it even better? Knowing that we all need help and can help cause we´ve either way already been there - done that or have to go there and do it.Wisdom, knowledge is there to be shared. To be received.I appreciate every single one of you and I am thrilled for this new adventure.

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You can always hit up my mailbox with anything that burdens your heart and lies heavy on your shoulders. I will take my time to listen to you and answer you. I am all in. I am with you. For you.-Feel the love. You are blessed.

Yours truly,

Julika Kyelle

[edo-vivendum]

My Past Two Years 11/2019

I wanna tell yall the briefish version of my past two years. Two years ago, I was doing okay. I proudly identified as 99% recovered from the eating disorder which I'd done IOP treatment for twice. Yet at the same time, I was in a rigid daily routine and maintaining a "healthy" yet artificially low weight (though I didn't realize this). But I was doing way better than I had in high school or in my first two semesters of college. However, I was finding myself fairly frequently overwhelmed with emotional flashbacks, and I decided I was stable enough and ready to finally dig deeper in therapy and delve into my childhood traumas.

I was very wrong. I was far from stable enough to do outpatient trauma work. I managed to fight my eating disorder thoughts and urges through the spring semester, but the signs were there: I was slipping. I was crying most days at lunch. I was lying, arguing over food, skipping meals. Things I'd promised myself I'd never do again. Finals week I told myself I had to follow an old meal plan: I needed energy to perform well in my tests, tests which would replace lower grades from days and weeks during the semester when I just couldn't gather the energy to study. And I did it, I finished the semester with all A's, a feat that was quickly overshadowed by my rapidly disintegrating mental and physical health.

During this period of time, my thoughts were obsessively suicidal, but only when I was eating (adequately). And so I stopped. It seemed safer, a temporary delve into my eating disorder in order to stay alive. Seems fair? I was terrified I'd accidently kill myself. I was so overcome with shame and guilt. I thought I'd be able to just turn my eating disorder off again the moment I was ready. But it didn't work like that.

My mental health was overpowering my sheer will power, and I quickly found myself deeper in my eating disorder than I had been in years. And unlike in high school, my body couldn't take it for months and months on end. I found myself in the ER and was told that I couldn't do IOP anymore, that the lowest level of care that was ethically appropriate when I was a medical risk was PHP, and so I did PHP (a day program). I couldn't think straight, ever. My thoughts were hazy. I couldn't concentrate. It was like being dissociated constantly, except it was there even when I wasn't. And as an all A student, a girl who (at that time) found my confidence only in my intellect, I was terrified. But I was also terrified I'd accidently kill myself if I stopped restricting. But, regardless, I ate my meals in program, arguing and debating over every bite. Then curling up and crying. I stayed alive for the swim team I coach during the summer. I coached in the morning then headed to PHP for the rest of the day. And those kids brought me so much joy. They kept me alive. Them and my guilt. The thought of damaging the lives of everyone around me by ending my own made me so guilty.

Eventually, somehow, I graduated, stepped down to IOP again, and only had groups for a three hours 3 days a week (rather than 6 hrs 6x/week). But then one day they challenged my rigidity. They told me I couldn't bring plain rice with 1 tsp of butter + chik'N (vegan) nuggets + steamed broccoli + a cheese stick. It met my meal plan. Precisely. And they said it was disordered. (it was). They asked me to add ketchup to my nuggets. Something overcame me, and I couldn't do it. I cried so much that night that they pulled me out of the room and had me sit individually with someone. "This is not an IOP response." It wasn't. And suddenly I realized that I had never been recovered, that my rigidity was part of my eating disorder, that I had MILES of work to do, and it was too much. I couldn't do it (at that point in time). I felt so defeated. And I didn't know what to do. And in my defeat, my urges became harder to fight, and my intake once again decreased dangerously.

PHP was suggested again, but I was skeptical. If it didn't work before, why would it work now? My outpatient therapist mentioned to me that residential treatment was only a slightly higher level of care than php. I started looking into options. I felt like a fraud. I wasn't underweight. I wasn't physically at risk to myself (my team and my current self disagree with that). But I didn't think I needed it. But part of me found hope in the idea. What if I could go somewhere and receive ED treatment and trauma treatment at the same time? Somewhere where I'd be safe from myself? In my head, the options seemed to be : (1) die (2) starve myself until I die (3) go to residential treatment, give it my all, and try to recover.

And so I picked option 3. I felt like a fraud, but my insurance covered it. I did my research, and I picked Monte Nido River Towns in New York City suburbs. Within two weeks, I was flying up there. I was terrified, but I was ready to work.

It was harder than I ever imagined. I was so scared. Never before had I lost so much control over my food. I got no say in what was in front of me other than my choice of three food items i could exclude. I picked Brussel sprouts and red meat (and later added raw onions as a third bc the chef overdid it on the onions every time). Monte Nido was stricter than my local program in so many ways, but they were also more supportive. For the first time, I was able to begin to explore my past. I was able to start healing. While there, I realized I was sicker than I could have previously admitted. Most of the clients there were at healthy weights (many of whom has anorexia or atypical Anorexia diagnoses). My bloodwork was a mess. I was having heart palpitations nearly daily. My sodium was low, and my water intake was restricted in order to level my sodium. I realized I'd been overhydrating previously, and it felt like I was withdrawing from a drug. I was always thirsty, overheating, dry throat. It was terrible, but after a few days, I adjusted to drinking only 64 ounces of water a day (I know that's such a normal amount lolll I have no clue how much it was before!!).

My insurance only covered 30 days, and I wasn't ready. I discharged to a PHP in Boston also owned by Monte Nido. I stayed in their supportive housing and did a month and a half of php. It helped. I slowly improved some. I became more stable with meal plan compliance. I started to realize how bad my family was for me. It was only in their absence that I began to flourish. I was preparing my own food outside of program. I did another month and half of IOP in Boston, and then in November, about one year ago, I came home to continue IOP at my local program.

And things became stagnant. I would have a good week and then two bad weeks. Things were stable enough to not need PHP again, but not stable enough to discharge. But I couldn't stay in IOP forever, and after 5 months, they discharged me.

I knew I wasn't ready, but I was determined to try to make it work. I knew I couldn't stay in IOP forever. But I wanted so badly to recover, and I was so scared I'd fall backwards.

So I did pretty well for about a month, then slowly things started slipping. I'm not sure what happened per say. I think I was probably brute forcing it, and I couldn't keep it up. I decided to go back to IOP, not in the full program, just twice a week, sort of a tune up. That was the plan anyways.

I did an assessment on a Monday, started that evening. I was to come back on Thursday. Tuesday, I went to my parents, and for whatever reason, my brother told me that it was my fault that I was bullied.

I spiraled. It triggered shame and guilt. It triggered my own belief that it was my fault. As though all my work had come undone, I was suicidal again.

I tried to hold it together. My therapist talked to me on the phone countless times over that week, but on Saturday afternoon, I asked my boyfriend to take me to the hospital. I didn't feel safe with myself. I was scared to be in the bathroom alone.

The hospital was a horrible experience. It was my second time in a psych hospital, and this time was by far the worst. There were 38 women in a small unit. We spent all our time in a day room that definitely was not designed for 38 people. Most of the people there were detoxing and were sporatic and loud and... Terrifying to me with PTSD from being bullied and verbally abused by peers and teachers. Staff were verbally abusive. Finally, after what felt like a year but was only six days, I left the hospital. My suicidality had been quite literally scared out of me, but my anxiety was 10/10 constantly. I felt unsafe. I was shaking consistently for an entire week. Even now, I start shaking thinking about it.

My therapist suggested residential trauma treatment at a place in Florida called the Refuge. They had an eating disorder program as well, so they would be able to take me (as most places just straight up won't take you if you have an ED but most ED places don't do real trauma work either). Anyways, this place was amazing. I was there for two months, and I grew so much. I was surrounded by support. The ED part of the program was pretty relaxed, which in some ways was good but in other ways let me act out through my eating while doing trauma work. But they kept me contained enough that I was very safe physically. I was so emotionally supported; I don't even have the words for it. My program therapist gave me new understanding of myself. She tested and diagnosed me with Asbergers and taught me that some aspects of my rigidity were likely because of asbergers and not because of my ED —that it was OK if my recovery looked a little different than other people's recovery. I was able to share in groups about my childhood, and I received a ton of validation and support for traumas that I perceived as not worthy of being traumatized by. I was supported and respected and made a ton of progress in respecting and supporting myself.

I discharged back into the shitty ass local iop program. I needed to refocus on the food aspect just a little and get back on track with food. I had a little weight I needed to gain in order to be at my own set point. Blah blah. Etc.

This program has been such a mess. My case manager told me everyone walked on eggshells around me. When I advocated for myself, I was told I was being needy. Then they told me I had to discharge because I was refusing to learn to cope with emotions despite the fact that my outpatient team and I both agree that I'd made huge progress. Before going to the refuge, the experience would have been triggering, but instead it became an opportunity for me to prove to myself just how resilient I have become. I finally discharged IOP last week, and this time, I actually feel ready.

I've been meal plan compliant for months. I've been actively using coping skills and managing situations more effectively than I ever have before. I have made so so so much progress; and I can say, today, I am happy to be alive. I haven't had a suicidal thought since being home from the Refuge. I haven't self-harmed since September. I still have work to do, but I can also accept where I'm at while I'm doing that work. Life is good. I am confident I can keep this up for months, even years.

[ayakashiramblings]

WTFur-Real Episode 2: Nachi’s Real Age

Right under our noses, in homes, cities, sofas and even laps. One in five of us owns a cat. Yet, only one person in the entire Capital knows what is called…. a Nekomata.

The passion for loving a Felis Silvestris Catus yokai has yet to take off. Dozens of experts just have to attribute such a blasphemous phenomenon to the fact that… it is hard to determine a true Nekomata’s age. That, and maybe the fact we don’t even know if it is an Ayakashi or not.

Is his age merely defined by the very lips that move to meow… but like a newborn kitten instead of a teenaged cat? Will we have to accept that his frolicking in the fields is to be expected of long-honed instincts or new urges surging through a young body? How are we to capture the timely essence of this puzzling creature? To do that, we…

You.

RA! Yura wants you to do this.

Damn it.

Gaku… are you still mad at me?

No, I am simply wondering how did you restore this in perfect condition with that wand of yours while I had to hunt down all those expensive components to make ANOTHER unnecessary one. Nope, no big deal. So, what are we doing?

We are turning into Ayakashi detectives, unravelling this feline enigma from the mystic mountain shrines to a Milk Hall swarmed by dozens of dust bunnies and even random streets Nachi just has to travel on.

Our journey begins here, at home, and the first piece of information I offer is a confession: 

I know Nachi cheats on his diet.

A lot of my research takes place out in the field so I can study how he moves in his natural environment. Studying an animal in the wild without disturbing his natural behaviour has never been easy, but over the past few years, ever since I turned five, I have learnt to gather intel… from sources that he encounters along his perilous journey for defying everything the veterinarian has told me to give him as we follow him.

With a bounce of a ballerina, senses so acute, he can pinpoint all the food coming his way from every vendor… dried sardine, vegetables, flowers…

Damn, this guy gets a parade every time he’s here.

Here, it seems, Nachi will now take a cat-nap right in front of our first stop: Milk Hall Raccord. We must hurry to meet someone who could possibly provide valuable insight into the shared history of the Nekomata and the people he has entranced.

Living for a long time (longevity) and the growing old (ageing) are two entities fused at the hip (original or replacement). Those very processes elude several fine specimens. Like how living a century is something all too familiar for this Domeki proprietor: Oji-san.

Here, he is busily practising his energy-saving methods with his Tengu-branded cigars. He always welcomes customers, and that is what we are to him at this very moment stepping through the empty halls of Raccord.

"Ah, bright eyes and... Gaku? Weird pair. Guess the 2nd date went well?"

Dementia is seriously creeping into his poor body just minutes into the very serious interview.

"Just so you know, this interview it better not be the omurice recipe because if Aoi ever finds out the secret ingredient, I know he will kill me in my sleep."

"We just want to ask you some questions about... what you have seen."

"Well, I saw this pretty lady..."

Ok, leave this one to me. It needs a blunt touch.

"No. We mean, when you were younger. Like, way much younger. And if you ever saw an unusual cat."

"Exactly, I was talking about a pretty lady. A pretty cat lady."

Who would have thought at the very first stage of our travels we would chance upon this rare fountain of knowledge? Fountain being that he is flooding all of our senses with some tales of all the ladies the used-to-be-young Oji once tried to court. We silently sip on the milk in serious contemplation… of how this lady has… and I quote from the notes I am taking… ‘long hair’, ‘manicured nails’, ‘pearly whites’, ‘an amazing… derriere’, ‘poor balance’, ‘was a vegan’...

"Wait, you said it was a cat lady?"

"Yup."

"She... sounds a bit too human."

"Oh, she was one. And she is dead by now I think."

"... Then why did you say she was a cat lady."

"Because she loved showing off her claws. Rawr, she was feisty."

It was then we knew… we should have gone with Ginnojo and Kuro first.

Then, after what seems like an eternity, the very pair marches in.

Here is the cool man who works at Kusanagi Books, the small book lenders next to this very restaurant and witnessing legendary events.

Why does the title card say Gin-Gin?

One word. Kuro.

"Hmmm.. A nekomata in the Edo period..."

"Truth be told, I haven't even encountered that many ayakashi species. It was only when the era ended that I saw more coming into the Capital."

Alas, it seems that Nachi has not crept into the hearts...

"Then again, I did meet a Bakeneko once."

"Wait, really? What about it?"

"It screamed a lot."

…

...

"The blood was more purple than red."

Make. Sure. Nachi. Never. Ever. Sees. This.

Noted. Cue transition?

Please.

Here we meet another loyal regular and possible informant: Kuro! He is a performer in the wildly successful Lorenzi Circus Troupe, this happy-go-lucky guy can put a smile on anyone’s face with one of his signature hugs.

D’aww.

Gack!

Hugs that should have embraced the fluffiness of a beloved Nekomata in his younger days.

“Hmmm… I have hugged a tiger!”

… I am changing the questions.

Go ahead, I give up.

“Ok, since everyone is gathered here… ahem, to put it lightly, how does it feel being more… senior or junior to the others?”

“It’s interesting learning from the others and seeing how the Capital has grown. Nobody even knows that more Ayakashi are coming to the city so we remain vigilant.”

“But also welcome them. You youngsters these days have all sorts of interesting things.”

“It’s great hearing all sorts of stories from Old Man and Gin-Gin! And they are living proof!”

Could that be Nachi’s feelings that have sustained his cute, fuzzball form? The indomitable thirst of justice, love and patriotism? Oh, such loyalty only possible in...

Er… MC?

Shh… this is getting good.

Yeah, so is Nachi getting good-to-go for home.

Gagh! After that cat!

MC, are you sure you can handle the camera and cue cards? It's pretty bulky.

Oh, I'm not holding the cue cards, Kuya is!

... He is just snoring... Wait, there is something floating above... Oh wow, he is actually... lifting them with his snores…. Also, what is he doing here?

Koga had some business with my father so he dropped him off here. Also, Koga’s distracting Nachi with petting him as Tama.

Indeed, observe how Nachi/Tama’s head lolls back, eyes closed in pure bliss as Sir Koga gets just that right spot. That’s it, Koga, scratch it. Scratch it while we scratch the surface… of Nachi’s 9 lives with two beautifully aged instruments.

“Hehe, oh my lady. Ne’er is there a dull moment when thou art beside me.”

The mysterious Yura used to dwell apart from society in an abandoned shrine. Having lived for over 1,000 years, his wisdom is an invaluable asset to the team and now, could be our greatest asset in this mystery.

“Maybe because she was dull enough to forget that we had known her past-self.”

A machinist by trade, this genius craftsman is known throughout the Capital by his pseudonym “Mr Kakyu.” Frankly, Gaku should have been called ‘Silver Tongue Tangled By MC’.

“By the way, how is the popcorn brother?”

“Sweet enough to sate my cravings. Many thanks, brother Gaku and milady MC!”

As Yura happily indulges in the caramel treat, he reveals,

“Well, there is one thing that I think is pertinent to this fine entertainment form...  pray, may I know what are those Nachi dons in his human form?”

A cheap abomination. We already did that with Kuya.

“Hmm… well, the only cat I saw with thee 1000 years ago wast just a kitten.  Weak at yond, and not coequal medicine couldst solveth half of its ailments.  Only thy loveth hath kept that him going.”

“I… didn’t really interact with Nachi in the past that much if he really was that cat 1000 years ago. All I remember was him tailing you even though he was bo-legged.”

“Hey, MC, why aren’t you narrating?”

“... Sorry, just had something in my eye.”

“What? Oh, don’t worry MC! I got you something!” came the boyish exclamation out of nowhere.

To MC’s shock, Nachi had suddenly thrust a whole bouquet of flowers, vegetables… and dried sardines and chicken wings into her face.  

“Hope you like it, MC! I got it from all these nice people!”

Of course, he is enshrouded by the warmest of sunlight and MC’s arms at that moment. So, we have come to the stunning conclusion… he is a baby to be protected. People say you choose a dog but the cat chooses you.

What people can’t say but I can say is that Nachi is the best friend you can have in any book of your life. From Dawn to Night.

Epilogue

Nachi tried to get both cameras working with his claws. This time, not even the Kagura bell wand could save them.

We then deduced he is probably really one of those naughty teenagers. 

A/N: OMG. I did it. I... dunno if it is worthy of being a series though, LOL. But this has been fun! I hope you guys like it and if you didn’t or found this weird (because I did at some points), feel free to shoot a message here.

Bold: Gaku’s voiceover

Italicised: MC’s voiceover

Normal: Characters conversing/MC or Gaku narrating

[ghxstype]

ZEPHIA I DID IT

3 Fears - the ocean, the dark, angry men

3 things I love - my friends, my pups, myself

2 turn ons - someone who is comfortable with themself & humor

2 turn offs - if you’re not open-minded & naivety

Best friend - I have a few Michelle Sabrina and Zephia are my mains tho

Sexual Orientation - Bisexual

Height - 5 ‘7

What do I miss - idk if I really miss anything like there’s friendships that I might miss but like they were toxic lmao

Fav Color - green

Crush? - I always have a crush on someone, whether it’s a serious crush or the one girl at the metaphysical store I met one time

Fave place - Death Valley

What am I listen ring to rn - Elf the movie

Shoes size - 9.5

Eye Color - Light Brown

Hair Color - brown with a streak of green rn

Meaning behind URL - Persephone

Fave Song - I have many rn is Self Care by MAC Miller

Fave Band - love the 1975

How I feel rn - content

Someone I love - myself

Current relationship status - Singleee

Relationship w/ parents - eh

Fave season - winter/fall

Tattoos piercings I have - two conch, one daith, lobes, and cartilage

Tattoos/piercings I want - nipples redone, tongue, smiley, nose repierced, septum, industrial redone, and I want a nature/wicca themed sleeve

Reasons I joined tumblr - all my friends were on it

Good morning/ good night texts - I haven’t gotten a good morning/night text since HS

Have I kissed the last person I texted - uhhh no

How long does it take to get ready in the morning - it can take me 5 minutes it can also take an hour and a half

Last time you shaved your legs? - three days ago

Where are u rn - home

Music loud or reasonable level - a mix of both

Yes I live with my mom and dad

I am excited for Friendsgiving with my loves tomorrow

I do not have someone of the opposite sex that I can tell everything to

I wear a fake smile mostly at work

I would like to meet ZENDAYA

I think about ... money the most

I prefer to be behind the camera

The last lie I told was I was sent home from work because I was afraid my mom would get mad at me if she knew I didn’t go at all

I really like video chatting

Yeah I believe in ghosts and aliens we think we have a ghost in win my house

I am a witch therefore I believe in magic

Yes I believe in luck/karma

The weather is cold rn

Last book I read was the city of bones

Nicknames are Katie, Kate, SweetieFace (by dad)

I spend money on bills mostly

I can not touch my nose with my tongue

Fave animal is a boop noodle (snakes)

At 12 am last night I was smoking

Purple rain by prince always makes me happy when I hear it

Fave word is fuck obvi

Top 5 blogs are @thosediamondreams @blairbittchproject @man-teater @himoon @beatleluvr22 I love all my mutual’s blogs really

If the whole word we’re listening to me rn I would ask someone to assasinate the president

I have no relatives in jail

Current desktop photo is a black screen

I’ve had sex but not intercourse

I have bought condoms before

I have never been pregnant

Never kissed anyone in the rain

Yes I’ve had a job

I smoke weed yes

I do not smoke cigarettes

I do drink alcohol

I’m neither vegetarian or vegan tho I do think about it often

Currently overweight

Never been underweight

I’ve had my heartbroken tho wouldn’t say it’s always been romantically

I went to my prom

I’ve been on an airplane (18 hours)

Never been able to fluently speak another language

I often wear makeup

My hair is currently dyed

Never had surgery

Never met anyone famous unless monster truck drivers count

Everyone has stalked people on social media

I’ve been fishing hated it

I’ve been rejected by a crush

For my birthday I’d like quality time with my friends

50% of the time I like my handwriting

When I’m older I’d like to live in a smaller town in the pacific northwest about an hour outside a major city

I’ve never been caught sneaking out or doing anything bad tho my parents have found out

I’m really bad at overcoming my social anxiety

Greatest achievements ahah ahah idk

Meanest thing anyone has ever said to me was by my dad

If I won the lottery I’d pay off all my debts and my parents and then slowly give money to family members and friends

What do I like about myself - I’m v passionate about a lot of things

My closest tumblr friend is Zephia

I’m an introverted-extrovert

I’m attracted to a lot of different types of people, I think I’m attracted to someone’s energy

Umm currently not in a position where I’d be in a relationship in two months but if it happens than it happens

I love talking about sex and sexuality

I always have deep conversations with Michelle

The most recent text I sent was to A group chat saying TAROT CARDS AHHH

Top 5 fave songs are Self care by Mac Miller Rukes by Doja Cat Lights up Harry Stiles Watermelon Sugar by Harry Styles and Drinking Games by Silver Sphere

I love it when people play with my hair

I hope there’s life on other planets

Love me some bubble baths

My neighbors are drug dealers so I don’t really interact with them lmao

I’d love to travel to Greece

I’m most uncomfy with my tummy

When I wake up I usually fall back asleep or go on my phone

I’m comfortable with my current skin tone

Eventually I’ll get married but not for atleast another 5 years

My hair is long enough for a ponytail

I could live without tv but not music

Everyone I’ve ever like I have either told or they found out anyway

Love old navy and my metaphysical shops

I think people deserve second chances but not thirds (just realized I’ve never given anyone a second chance lmao)

I smile at strangers all the time

Mmm never done anything recently I hope no one finds out about

Never really wished I was someone else

Fave makeup brand is Jeffree

Last thing I ate was my moms beef burgundy

I think I’ve thought I was in love but idk

Twitter over fb

Tumblr over Twitter

Watching Elf rn

My bath towel is red

Fave ice cream flavor is Honey

First person I talked to today was my mom

Hate ONISION and the president also personally hate this girl from HS

Last person I talked to was my dad

Love my loves Michelle Zephia Sabrina

Will always take the chance to punch the president in the face

I tan maybe once or twice a year

I have 2 puppers

I type pretty fast yeah

I regret a lot of things and I’ve talked about them on this blog

I don’t think I’ve ever broken someone’s heart lemme know

Yes I have liked someone so much it hurt

Cheating is never okay

I think I believe in true love, Not sure if I’ve ever experienced it

I’m a Capricorn

Yes I believe in ghosts

I’m v comfy sitting here doing this watching Elf I’m not getting up to get the closest book to me to open it to page 42 to see the first line in the page tho it would be like It or something