#she told me she has cancer but she didn’t tell me about having growths in both of her breasts

[junkyoushas]

I know my mum is a lot sicker than she lets on but I can’t even talk to her about it because if I do she’ll stop letting my grandparents go to her doctor appointments with her, ‘cause they’re the ones who told me her actual diagnosis and I’m scared I don’t want to lose my mum, my little sister and nephews need her in their life

[carefulfears]

heey :) i always enjoy your meta and your responses to questions and there’s something i never really understood so i thought i‘d ask your opinion <3 what do you think about mulder‘s brain disease during s7? i just can’t make sense of it like at all .. how would he have hidden it from scully? and why? like even if he‘d tried his best to hide it i feel like she would have noticed? and how would mulder be able to completely suppress it when with her?

imo this story development is unnecessary and just sad. why did they have to put that in there? for my personal canon i’ve decided it’s not true and mulder never was ill. but i am open to another take and would actually love to make sense of it so i thought i’d ask you since i enjoy your writing so much :3 thanks in advance!

god this is just so sweet of you to say, thank you so much. i really appreciate you reading my page and thinking of me, i always love to chat these little questions with you guys. as far as the brain disease goes, it is unnecessary and sad. on a wider scale, it’s obviously something they didn’t put much thought into, and just needed to use as a plot device retrospectively. but also…it colors season seven in a different light. i think that’s one reason why people don’t like it: it takes something. season seven is “secret sex” and movie nights and flirty mornings. it’s going to LA or kansas city just to see the sights, between monster hunts. it’s “there is so much more than this.”

when you drop a secret death sentence onto that, it takes something. it questions what the source of that peace was. i understand why most people choose to leave it.

i know i’m in the minority, but honestly, i don’t mind that questioning. it’s uncomfortable and it’s sad. but there has always been something in mulder that the audience or those around him is rarely let in on, and sometimes its fatal.

i always think about this fic:

She’d been dying once, too, and she’d told him before she told her own mother. Once, he had done everything he could to keep her alive, to find a cure, and didn’t he know she’d have done the same thing for him? She’d asked Skinner that, on one of the bad nights. Called him up in the middle of the night to ask. There was a long silence, and then Skinner just said, “Maybe he didn’t want to be saved.” He said it like he had been thinking about it for a long time. Like he’d been practicing how to tell her. In the moment she’d blanched and hung up the phone. When she came into the office the next morning, she could tell that he hadn’t slept either.

and i really recommend reading the full story, because it conceptualizes the situation so well emotionally. scully is pregnant with their miracle baby and she buried him and he was going to die, anyway, whether she knew it or not. i love the way this fic ponders...but he'd been happy, right? was he happy because they were together, or because it was almost over? it's unnecessary, it's sad, but it's also uncertain, it leaves questions.

i loved this thread trish had on twitter the other day:

thinking about mulder by scully's side through her cancer. him desperately searching for a cure. the way he clings to hope he doesn't really have because he's watching her die. when he gets his brain disease, he doesn't tell her. he hides it and looks for a cure on his own. he doesn't let that man eat his disease because he doesn't want him to suffer more. he gets abducted in scully's place.

mulder is "professionally in denial." he looked for 27 years for someone he would never have been able to save. he "refused to believe" that scully was dying, barely acknowledged it or talked about it, as she worked to her deathbed. he never told her about diana, even as the woman was in the backseat behind them. i know no one wants to think he would choose to die alone, without telling her, especially with his growth in season seven...but, it makes you question? it makes you wonder. and maybe he could.

[thisisnotreallife]

Not Cancer

For three weeks in January, I thought I had breast cancer, after I found a lump on my left side, near my armpit.

I’d already had an appointment scheduled with my primary care physician the following week when I found it, small and somehow slippery, while lying on my stomach on the guest bed.

My doctor had me schedule a mammogram—my first—and an ultrasound at the imaging center in town after feeling the bump.

The size of a garbanzo bean, if you could find it.

She told me not to keep touching it while I waited for the scans, in case it was an inflamed gland I’d make worse with my worrying.

When I scheduled the appointment, the woman told me she’s had mammograms after finding lumps before that turned out to be nothing, and she even has breast cancer genes on her mother’s side.

My sister, the physician, told me it was probably nothing, and that in the absence of our biological mother’s familial health history, she’d had genetic testing done herself; results showed that it might be cancer that gets us, but it shouldn’t be breast or gynecological. I told her I’d send her my chart when I had it.

I spent the week and a half before my appointments compiling a list of the ways my life would change when I heard the diagnosis.

I’d move somewhere better, closer to the people I love.

I’d start eating mammals again—a Dick’s deluxe, at least, the next time I was in Seattle, and breakfast sausage and bacon when I wanted it. Maybe a filet.

I’d never read the news, but I’d keep learning Spanish on the Duolingo app so I could speak to my nephew and his paternal grandparents.

Spend more time outdoors.

At the mammogram, finally, when the technician had trouble squeezing my small breasts into the clamp, she apologized as she maneuvered my body and told me how to hold my shoulder, my arms, and how to place my feet.

After a few minutes, they brought me back for a second scan, on the opposite breast from where I’d found the lump.

Sweat prickled under my arms beneath the shawl-shaped gown.

The tech explained, “Calcifications. Very likely nothing to worry about, but the radiologist will talk to you about them.”

When the ultrasound tech, a younger woman, had me lie down on my right side on the hospital bed, she couldn’t find the tiny lump with her wand right away, either, and had to keep reapplying gel.

A baby must be so much easier. Only one place it should be.

I watched the clock on the wall while she waved the wand over my skin and asked me repeatedly to touch the spot to show her its position, but I can’t remember how much time passed before she had scans she was confident with.

Because it had taken so long, maybe, or maybe because it was obvious that the anxiety of not knowing had been suffocating me, she said before she left the room that she was almost certain it wasn’t cancer, but that the radiologist would be in soon after reviewing her images.

I got dressed again, and waited.

A lipoma, he tells me. A fatty cyst. Benign.

I think immediately of the old dogs I’ve known, covered in squishy tumors, whose humans have told me they didn’t have cancer. Wonder how long it’ll take before I’m covered in lipoma, too, fatty cysts taking over my body and dotting the wrinkles of my skin like so many overgrown and colorless moles.

The calcifications are unconcerning, too, he says, but since they’ve been found, he recommends I return in six months to monitor any growth.

Someone tells me I have dense breast tissue, I can’t remember who, and I want to ask but I don’t, if breasts without dense tissue feel light and fluffy instead of like mine.

When I go home and tell my husband I don’t have cancer, I keep reading the news, and I don’t start eating beef or pork again.

And it’s still winter, so I don’t do it for long, but I stand outside in the sun when it’s shining and plan a move in my mind to somewhere new.

[steeleumbra]

Final transfer from my substack: I used to write more....

And by “used to”, I mean about 16 years ago. Or so.

My [cat,] Little Orphan Annie. I think the pic is from 2002 or 2003.

Little Orphan Annie came to me in the early 2000s, when I was living in a basement apartment on Rome, NY, across from the building managers office. Someone had been driving by the apartments when they slowed down just enough to open a door, and throw her out. I don’t know what happened immediately after that, but someone brought her to the office. And, not knowing what to do, management asked me if I wanted to take her in. I said yes.

I shouldn’t have. I had two other cats at the time. But I said yes. So, Annie joined the family with my two other girls; Duffy, my Maine coon mixed with who knows what, and Jett, my black domestic short hair.

I remember that Annie hid under my bed for the first two weeks. I moved food dishes and litter boxes near enough for her to get to them, but I don’t thing she ate or relieved herself for the first two or three days. At least, not that I noticed while I was awake. But she started coming out more often as time went on, and getting to know the girls more. Duffy wasn’t too keen on her. Jett became her best friend in the world. And I was the thing that fed her and cleaned the litter, and was there when she felt like caring, but otherwise she didn’t have much use for. She still let me give her head kisses, though.

I don’t remember the time frame exactly, so I’m going to guess about 7 months in, Annie’s ear swelled like a balloon. I rushed her to the vet, where after a quick examination I was told that she had burst a blood vessel, probably shaking her head, but it was purely cosmetic. They sent us home, and I had to wait with her for the swelling to go down, which it did over the next week or so. And the vet was right. Her ear never went back to its original shape, but as far as I was able to tell, she could hear perfectly fine. And Annie, over all, was fine.

Right up until it happened again the next year, in her other ear. And I rushed her to the vet again. And the vet said it was a broken blood vessel, and it was just cosmetic, and, oh, by the way, she has a heart murmur. Have a nice day.

Yeah. In not so few words, that was pretty much the way I was told.

*If you’re wondering why I was going to this vet, it’s the same vet’s office my pets went to years before, living with some family. It was tradition over quality, at the time. And I didn’t know any better. I’ll jump ahead quite a few years to say that this same office told me that a growth on Duffy’s neck was nothing to worry about. But then I moved to Maine, and took her to a new, competent vet, who told me it was cancer. But that’s a whole different story. For now, back to Annie.*

So, over time, I had gotten used to her only caring about me when she needed to jump into my lap so she could fall asleep and drool onto my knee—which happened rarely, so I just didn’t move until I had to or she got up. And, everything seemed okay. Until it was 2008…or 2009. It’s hard to remember which, now. But I remember she was seven. And then, she wasn’t anymore. I found her under my bed, after wondering where she was all day because I hadn’t seen her at all. And I didn’t drive—and had really no place to go if I had—so I needed to wait all night for a friend to come help me.

It was the first time, as an adult, that I felt absolutely broken. I know there are people who treat their animals like just animals. Most of them have a lot of human family and friends to pick up the slack, though. This autistic did not. And my cat’s were the only family I had. And I’d just lost one of them.

My friend allowed me to bury her under a tree in his yard, where his pets were buried. And I buried her with one of her favorite toys. Not just because I thought it was fitting that she have something she really enjoyed, but because my other cats were terrified of it. It was called Thing In A Bag.

The only clear image I could find with a quick search for Thing In A Bag. The cat is from the toy’s advertising; it is not my Little Orphan Annie.

It looked like a paper bag, and had a vibrating ball inside that made it seem like a little creature was trapped inside. Annie had been the only one brave enough to pounce on it, while Jett mostly stayed on top of an overstuffed chair, and Duffy hid behind it. Just to let you know, they don’t make them anymore. I know. I’ve checked so many times through the years that I’ve just given up on finding another now (I might be able to find one on Ebay, but I’m not really motivated to care anymore). So, don’t bother searching for one. But, she is resting with hers.

Actually, I hope she isn’t. I hope she’s no where near it. And I hope she’s not anywhere near the planet it’s in. This place sucks—it seems like more every year. I’d rather she be someplace a whole lot happier than this reality. But I wouldn’t complain if she came for a visit once in a while.

As a side, I can’t listen to John Denver’s voice singing Annie’s Song. It’s all I listened to after she passed, and I still get emotional flashbacks when it plays.

The thing is, up until that point, I wrote. A lot. Mostly stories. I had I-don’t-know how many short stories, and had been working on at least two stories I was trying to turn into novels. Nothing published, mind you. I had tired. But when you keep getting rejection letters and have undiagnosed—at the time—neurological issues that cause rejection sensitivity, future attempts have a tendency to slow, then stall, then never start again. But I still wrote. And I wrote hoping that someday, somebody would read any of my stories and care that I was here.

And then Annie died. And then I had to wait for help. And then I had to deal with the weight of that on my own. And then, I had to realize that no one was coming to my rescue. And no one was coming to console me. And no one was coming to care.

And, for the most part, I just stopped writing. All of the work I was trying to put together is still on an old, WinXP desktop I have sitting in the closet. And, I couldn’t get to it even if I wanted to. The computer broke years ago, and won’t turn on. No, I won’t have it fixed. For reasons.

*A note for gay future writers—don’t have a gay wallpaper set on your desktop background if the only computer person you know/can afford is a conservative Christian, because your computer will break before you can change the wallpaper to something more neutral. And if you do have gay wallpaper set on your desktop background and the only computer person you know is a conservative Christian, keep that computer locked away until you hit the lottery and find someone to fix it who isn’t afraid of catching “the gay”.*

I’ve written poems, off and on, through the years. Occasionally, song lyrics—which isn’t that impressive when you don’t play anything enough to be able to write music for them. And since 2008, or 2009—or so—I have written…maybe about as many short stories as I can count on less than two hands.

Even journals. I used to journal. Sometimes, a lot. But it’s been really sporadic since then. Even when I did journal, though, I would stop myself a lot (that was a learned trauma response, though; not related to this…definitely a different story).

And, I don’t know if I will ever get back into writing like I want to. I always had this dream about being some famous writer, and living in a cottage somewhere in the woods with I don’t know how many cats and a fireplace nearby, and two writing desks—one at a window with a beautiful view, and one in another room away from the window so my hands wouldn’t get cold in the winter. And a functional kitchen where I would make gallons of coffee. And I would have a bottle of Brandy and a bottle of whiskey on hand at all times—not really for the writing, but those are the only alcohols I like. And, I’ve had to realize over the years that none of that will ever happen. I’m pushing 50 now. You’d think that if hope were going to manifest anything like that, I would have had some sign by now. And, yet, the only signs I’ve seen have big white letters spelling STOP. So, I think I’m done with that dream. Not that I don’t want it, or that I wouldn’t love it. But I want Annie, and would love her to be here, too. Some things have to die. And, you have to move on through life, sometimes wounded and wondering why things hurt so much, as best you can.

And, sometimes—too many times—for one reason or another, dreams have to come to an end.

All this to say—I guess, exactly that. It really wasn’t part of the plan, to end this with a slice of depression.

But there it is.

C’est la vie.

[mrsandok]

"Bye, Toby."

I had to say goodbye to my cat of 15 years on Wednesday, August 21, 2024. It was 9 days before his 18th birthday/adoption day.

I tried my best to prepare for this moment ever since I had the growth in his mouth looked at on May 2, 2024. 

This wasn't my normal vet–it was a vet that I rushed to because I thought it was an inflamed tartar gum issue–it turns out it was likely mouth cancer and to be prepared to say goodbye to my 17-year-old cat by the end of the month.

Leaving the vet's office was pretty rough knowing this stranger vet was completely willing to put down Toby that day. The thought of going to a vet's office with my cat and leaving without him was simply unacceptable. Especially with my girlfriend at work and thinking we were going to resolve this issue before our trip to Hawaii.

My heart sank at the news–which was especially troubling since I was SO excited to start my new job the day before this. I had to balance my happiness and sadness and stay strong for myself, Toby, and Chy.

I sobbed the first half of the way home. It was a surreal type of cry. It started as a normal sob from devastating news. Then they legitimately turned to happy tears knowing how fucking happy he's made me in these 15 years.

I was always proud of telling people about Toby’s age. He’s been my live-in partner for all the important chapters of my life.

Here is a not-so-brief summary of those chapters:

2009

I learned about Munchkin cats and was casually looking through Craigslist to see if there were any around me. I was still living at my parents’ house, but I couldn’t pass up an opportunity when I saw a free adoption of a Munchkin cat in the next city over. I didn’t tell my parents, knowing I didn’t want to give them an option to say no. Plus, I had just finished my undergrad–I wanted to have some new agency over my life.

I met Toby at this woman’s house. I think she bred munchkin cats and corgis. Everyone had short legs. Maybe even her. Hahah.

Mind you, I don’t think I’ve ever held a cat or pet one for more than 10 seconds. I’ve only interacted with friendly and not-so-friendly dogs. 

She asked me if I had a carrier for him, and I said my friend planned to hold him on the way home.

She laughed and said, “Here’s a carrier. You can leave it on my porch when you're done with it.”

I wanted to know his name and if I would change it if I didn’t like it.

She told me his name was Toby, and I immediately approved. Maybe because I was such a huge fan of Toby’s character on The Office.

She told me one of his favorite things is hanging out on beds. She put him on the bed and clipped his nails.

I pet him as he was laying there and he bit me.

I was a bit shocked, and she just shrugged it off, “Oh–that’s a play bite.”

The reason why there wasn’t an adoption fee was that a raccoon attacked him, and he was having trouble recovering because the other pets in the house were picking on him.  Which may have resulted in why he bit me in the first place. Haha

Taro was with me, and we took him to his parents’ house. His mom has always loved animals and would be excited to see his tiny little legs.

I took my first two photos of my new cat at Taro’s house.

I think I texted my other friends to meet my new cat at my parents’ house. 

He came out of the cage and ran under the couch.

I kept repeating, “This is bad–real bad, Michael Jackson.” a-la that Kanye feature that was popular at the time knowing I was trying to keep my cat a secret.

I finally wrangled him and brought him to my bedroom. He immediately hid underneath my bed and stayed there.

I was pretty stressed and not used to a new cat’s understandable reclusive behavior.

I can’t find the original email, but I remember emailing the person I adopted him from that night and her assuring me it was all normal.

Later that night, I woke up to him on my chest, inches away from my face meowing at me. It's a memory I hold dearly in my heart.

We bonded instantly and quickly replicated each other’s personality–that is, wanting but also picky with our affection.

Hey Jessi,

Toby is doing well.  His neck cuts are healing well.  His back and ear cuts are healing nicely, as well.  However, I noticed he's developed a bump on his nose that doesn't seem to be going away.  Do you know anything about these?  Also, do you have any recommendations for a vet?  Possibly the one where you took Toby before.  Thanks!

EJ

Toby was the one possession I had that made me feel like an adult after graduating from undergrad. I didn’t have a career plan after. I just had an English and Philosophy degree. Getting my teaching credential was monumental for me and I had to continue to live at home to support myself. 

Toby gave my bedroom in my parents’ house the feeling of living in a 10’x10’ New York apartment. Sure, I was jealous of people that had their shit together more than me. I didn’t know that comparison was the theft of joy at the time, but if I did know that–no one, no pet, not a single thing could compare to the love Toby and I had for each other. 

August 13, 2014

I accepted a job at Arcadia High School. I have never been to the San Gabriel Valley and never imagined myself living there.

Even though I was 40 miles away, I still felt very far from my friends and family. It was hard to say goodbye to my nieces, who were 4 and 2 at the time, knowing I wouldn’t be able to see them grow up daily.

Toby was my only constant. I was excited that he’d finally have a bigger living space he can call his own.

And own, he did. I barely remember him in that apartment because he was so independent and aloof. He’d only get affection when he wanted it. That was probably on the couch when I was watching TV or when I was in bed sleeping.

I was also aloof. Taking naps after work and keeping a night-owl lifestyle. During my first year at Arcadia, I was invited to be the Friday resident DJ at Mesa. I tried bringing Toby back home to Orange County every weekend but man, he sure hated it. He would meow loudly from the start of the car ride to the very end.

He was still eating grain-free kibble at the time and I was able to keep him satisfied until I came back on Sunday when I would be away.

I still remember the dirty looks he’d give me when I returned after being gone for 48 hours. He’s not like a dog that misses its owner and is ecstatic at the first sight of me. He's a sassy cat who would give me the stink eye and then come up to me for affection and pets.

I was super protective over him leaving the house. I was in the literal foothills and was scared of coyotes. I was also just scared of him running away and not coming back.

When I’d have to let my landlord in, I’d have to put him in the bathroom with food and a litter box. I’m sure he hated that but I made sure that the landlord let him out after he was done.

I still feel bad for those few hours he had to be stuck in a bathroom.

We had a pretty normal life at that Sierra Madre apartment. He had a few surgeries to remove benign tumors. One time, they forgot to remove the tight tourniquet on his paw and his paw quadruoupeld in size. I really regret not having a photo of that knowing it was as big as his head. Haha.

July 5, 2019

I moved to South Pasadena. Toby spent the first night in my new apartment without me knowing I’d be moving out my stuff at my old apartment, and there wasn’t any point in having him caged up that long.

When I say he’s owned every apartment I’ve rented–I mean it. These are his spaces, and it was my job to make him feel as comfortable as possible.

We were apartment hunting for a while. My criteria were: top floor, private patio or balcony, and a garage for my lowrider. We didn’t get the top floor; nevertheless, Toby had his first unsupervised time outside for the first time in ten years. 

Oh man, he loved it. He loved basking in the sun, lying on the outdoor chaise, and hiding underneath it.

 

One of my favorite memories was him being protective over his house when a kitten made their way to our patio. I heard him hissing LOUDLY from my bedroom. I then heard a loud THUMP from him trying to break through the glass to attack the kitten.

When I finally came out to see what was going on, I saw Toby as aggressive as I’ve ever seen him. I tried to touch him to calm him down and he hissed at me. I’ve never been more offended by my cat. Haha.

We’ve had a wonderful life in this apartment. I had my rotation of house-sitters that also fell in love with my aging affectionate cat.

In May 2023, he started showing his age. 

He would meow incessantly all night, and I couldn’t figure it out.

I thought it was senility. I thought it was just general restlessness.

Turns out he’s tired of dry kibble and wants wet food. A new thing for him.

---

Toby was one of the first icebreakers I had with my girlfriend. I sent her a picture of my apartment, and she replied, “Tell me more about that cat!”

Of course, I loved the opportunity to talk about my beloved Toby and loved showing her his tiny legs and the tattoo I have of him dressed up as Michael Jackson. 

My girlfriend met Toby for the first time on July 28, 2023. Toby has always been moody, but he was definitely less standoffish by this time.

Chy officially moved in on January 13, 2024. This was the first time I had lived with someone other than my family. My only other roommate for the past 15 years was Toby.

Chy was an absolute dream to Toby. She would do this, where she would top his breakfast, lunch, and dinner with bonito flakes. He was definitely spoiled. 

There was this underlying feeling of guilt, knowing I never spoiled Toby like Chy did. However, I quickly got over it, knowing that Chy spoils me as much as she spoils our cat. Since Toby fully adopted my personality at this point, I know he loved it and loved her back for it.

--

March - April 2024

Toby was entertaining us with his new senior behaviors. Chy was able to teach him how to click. He also had this habit of sticking out his tongue a la Dogpool.

He still had his favorite spots to sit; nevertheless, he was exploring the entire apartment for new spots. Some of the newer ones included the south-east dining chair, in between the TV and coffee table, and anywhere next to me.

I spend a lot of time on the computer. He would meow looking up at me. I would put him on a rolling cabinet or another chair. He’d like it–until he didn’t, so he would jump off and walk away. Haha.

May 2024

It all happened so fast. My normal house-sitters weren’t available and after his likely-cancer diagnosis, we definitely wanted someone to spend some one-on-one with Toby. Luckily, I was able to find someone that went above-and-beyond my expectations. My housesitter left the cameras on when he wasn’t in my apartment so we could still check up on him.

As much as we enjoyed our Hawaii vacation, we were really happy to be back home with Toby.  

As much as we loved to travel, spoiling Toby as much as we can was our main priority.

My vet said that he may only have a month left where his quality of life is worth living. We took that to heart and carefully tracked his good days and bad days.

Toby was more affectionate than ever. Probably because he knows his days are numbered and didn’t want to be alone in his senior years.

June - August 2024

We spent all summer spending money on cat food, turkey and ham slices, bonito flakes, medicine, and pee pads to accommodate our aging boy.

His tumor was getting bigger, yet he was still affectionate as ever and seemed at peace with his new normal.

Chy and I knew we were looking for signs that he was ready to go, and we were never comfortable ending his suffering as long as he still looked happy and content to be spoiled by us.

The Hardest Week of my Life

Sunday, August 18, 2024

My sister has been trying to make her way up to Pasadena to visit Toby, knowing his days are numbered. My parents were originally supposed to come, but coordinating with them is close to impossible.

In all honesty, Chy and I haven’t had many guests over, knowing Toby’s condition was getting worse. He didn’t look the same and was having trouble using the litterbox. We constantly had to clean up for him and it was our normal–we were never quite ready to showcase our new normal to other people.

By this time, Toby was losing a lot of weight, and his hindlegs would give out. He could still walk, but it was slow and swayed. He was still visiting us in our room, but he didn’t have the strength to jump on the bed.

I’m not sure what day it was, but he was really vocal of wanting to be with us in bed. It’s a memory I’ll cherish forever. He was sandwiched between Chy and me and just embraced being loved. He was so at peace–until he wasn’t and wanted to be let down. Haha.

Monday, August 19, 2024

We continued to spoil Toby, encouraging him to stand up and walk around for exercise. It was really hard for him, but he was still affectionate and lively.

Tuesday, August 20, 2024

Things took a turn for the worse on the day Chy and I both had to be away from home. Chy’s favorite memories of coming home by herself is being greeted by Toby at the door with loud and needy meows. 

He didn’t have that energy anymore. He was lethargic, in need of a bath because his lack of control over his body fluids. Chy gave him a bath and he…wasn’t looking good. 

When I came home, I saw his old self loving our company yet struggling to be fully there. He wanted to be by us, and he loved it when we petted him and scratched his ear, but his energy definitely seemed different. 

Our last night with him we stayed at the dining table with a fan on him while Chy and I played Song Quiz on Amazon Alexa.

Toby stayed there the entire night and Chy and I went to bed.

Chy would check on him, knowing she saw him in his worst state, and would report back, saying his face was worrisome. As if he were scared, he wouldn’t make it through the night. 

Wednesday, August 21, 2024

We were counting the days to his Birthday/Adoption Day, August 30, 2024. He would’ve been around 18 at the time. We knew we wanted to give him yellowtail collar, one of his favorite foods he loved to share with us.

Though Chy and I didn’t talk about it directly, we both acknowledged we’re going to have to put him to sleep sooner rather than later, knowing he can’t go on living like this–especially with a busy schedule coming up.

Chy suggested I get the frozen Yellowtail Collar and I did. We’re celebrating his birthday–just a week early.

I had to run some errands away from home and came home to see Toby in the same state Chy saw him in the previous day.

It was tough. I wiped him as best I could and tried to get him to stand on his feet but he couldn’t.

I fed him milk and water and sat next to him while I looked up in-home euthanasia options. I asked /r/pasadena Reddit and my internet neighbors were really thoughtful and compassionate. 

As I gathered quotes, Chy bathed Toby and said it was the worst she’s ever seen or felt him. He had no energy to fight his discomfort in the water.

While helping dry him, I felt how weak his hind legs have gotten in the past two days. There was no way he could hold himself up from this point on.

The earliest appointment was the following morning. I replied that we’re not sure he would make it then. He said he could be there in 40 minutes. 

Chy said she can’t make that decision and it has to be on me.

It was on me.

I broke down the hardest I’ve broke down knowing that the day is finally here. Toby finally gave us signs he’s ready to go. The love and affection is still there. But his quality of life vanished in the span of 16 hours. 

It was time. 

We put him on the couch. He was laying on his favorite blanket that Chy’s sister gifted her. We were petting him as we counted the longest 40 minutes of our lives knowing that our lives will drastically change in the next hour.

The Doctor was very compassionate to our situation. I tried my best to be stoic and accepting asking questions that would help put me at ease. 

He let us take all the time we needed to say our final goodbyes. Chy sat behind me as I watched Toby pass peacefully into the early night.

It was peaceful. Though I wish his eyes could close, it helped me realize that that blank stare, the one that he was giving us in the past 24 hours, was his sign to use that he was ready to go.

The memory that’s causing me to cry as I write this is reliving my actions while he was peacefully passing.

I kept saying, “Bye, Toby. Bye, Toby. Bye, Toby. Bye, Toby. Bye, Toby. Bye, Toby. Bye, Toby. Bye, Toby.” an uncountable number of times.

I couldn’t stop saying it. I wanted to feel the goodbye. But I was still so numb and upset. I was so shook that my life from there on out would be without him.

Every time I left my apartment, I would say, “Bye, Toby,” knowing I would be back in a few hours. 

These two words. These three syllables. Were. So. Important. To. Me.

They were important to me because I knew I’d come home and see him again. This time, it was permanent. 

Bye, Toby.

---

The grieving process is incredibly uncomfortable. Nevertheless, I’m learning about myself and how lucky I am to have Chy by side during all of this. I’ve always known how lucky I was to have Toby. I’m even luckier to have the lifetime of memories he’s given me.

After he passed, Chy and I scrubbed the apartment of his things knowing reminders of him would be hard. I even washed the sofa sheets knowing his drool, fur, and scent would be hard for us to take. 

While these actions were inevitable, it made it just as hard knowing the apartment felt and now looked empty without him.

---

I’m still a Buddhist and try to live by stoic principles alongside it. It helps me be proactive rather than reactive. However, it’s hard not to fall into older patterns of escape and coping mechanisms.

I was processing the loss of my best friend of 15 years. I was able to stop sobbing somewhere along the way. And in those moments, I was able to update my friends and family about what happened. I reached out to everyone and thanked them for loving him as much as I loved him.

I was also sitting with Chy, knowing we could now travel and should do something with our Southwest Companion Pass. We also had plans to revisit her family in Utah at an unknown date.

In retrospect, I was trying my best to “be happy in the future” to escape the pain I was feeling in the now.

Chy went to bed and I went through photo albums so I can post on IG. Coincidentally, I posted 18 photos, the age Toby was when he passed. 

I disabled comments knowing that I don’t really want to sift through people’s condolences. I simply wanted to remember my best friend through select photos and videos.

Thursday, August 22, 2024

Chy and I were still processing it, understandably. Chy felt an unreasonable sense of guilt, knowing that I’m mourning my cat even though she’d only known him a year. She felt that she should be stronger, but I reassured her that I loved that we were able to have a little family in my apartment on a hill.

She told me she was jealous I could share memories of Toby with my friends and family, but she didn’t have that. That feeling just made her feel even more alone after his passing. 

That morning I broke down when I opened google Photos knowing that’s the final act of his passing. I’m backing up the photos I found to put on Instagram so I can free my phone of space. 

That’s when I started reliving my “Bye, Toby,” rant and it just floored me all over again that he’s gone.

---

Present

I’m still sad. So fucking sad. But I’m definitely at peace knowing that, during those last 20 hours, my sweet and affectionate Toby was barely recognizable. It was time, and I’m thankful for the lifetime of memories he’s given me.

Chy, Buddhism, Stoicism, and my cherished memories of Toby make the grieving bearable. 

I’ll never forget the love Chy gave my cat and I’ll never forget how lucky I am to have her as a life partner.

Buddhism reminds me that attachment is the root of all human suffering. I’m sad because I’m attached to my life with Toby before his passing.

Stoicism reminds me to accept the things I can’t control and be mindful of the things within my control. Nothing lasts, and I’m simply here for the ride.

I’ve given this advice to countless people, including friends, family, and former students. It’s another thing to put it into practice.

Though it hurts, I should be present in the moment and grateful for what I have. Memories are simply that–memories. My future happiness is contingent on the choices and decisions I make in the present. 

I love you, Toby. You’re more than a memory. You’re permanently part of me.

[max--phillips]

Let me tell you all a story about ✨Mama✨

She

So. Important pieces of information: Mama lives with my parents, she is approximately 10-11 years old (unclear; she showed up on our back patio one day and then we had another cat. We don’t know her origin story), and she is Spoiled because she’s a long hair cat and goes to the groomer regularly to work out mats and get her booty shaved.

Let me take you back to August. My family notices a weird lump on the back of her neck, almost like a zit or something, it’s not super big or anything but it sure is there. I tell my parents to take her to the vet, because growths aren’t a great sign, and despite not living with me, Mama is My Cat. I want her taken care of. My dad, former vet tech, says that it’s probably just a lesion of some kind and needs to be drained. I tell him to just call the vet and have them do it if it is truly going to be that quick.

They don’t fuckin listen to me (but thankfully this is inconsequential to the story.) A month goes by and they take her in to the groomer & my mom texts me and says that the groomers think the cyst might be cancer, and we need to schedule her to get it removed and have a biopsy done. As you can imagine, I’m pretty pissed off because I told them to get it checked out a month ago and now it might be cancer.

They schedule it though, but of course not a week later the cyst POPS while my brother is petting her. Which… ew. But it wasn’t infected, just clear liquid with some blood. So that’s good! And net 0 news, she has another one on her shoulder, so they still have something to biopsy.

A few weeks ago she finally got the biopsy (they shaved her shoulder for this of course and put stitches in, which she had removed a few days ago), and the vet’s like. Well I’ve never seen anything like this before. And I’m like. Awesome. That’s always a good sign. I guess it was just really vascular? Which is unusual?

Well we finally got the results this morning, and it’s ✨BENIGN✨!!!!!! They said it’s some kind of vascular growth, didn’t name it, but they did say they’re fairly uncommon so it wasn’t too surprising the vet hadn’t seen it before.

So anyway, that’s all to say, Mama gave us a little bit of a scare, but she’s all good and will continue to be shaped with us for hopefully many more years to come 💖

[lunerbean]

The Signs as... things I wish I could say to them.

Aries: I'm happy to see that you're experiencing some great personal growth and spiritual development right now. You're still using people though. You're still seeking out others to help carry the burden of your emotional baggage. I believe in your own strength. I believe you're able to build a healthy enough relationship with yourself and with your past to stop needing others to shoulder your burdens for you. I would still like to give you that tattoo we talked about 6 years ago.

Taurus: I love you very much, you're kind and you're trying your best. But you're also stuck in this rut of anxiety and fear and you're finding any excuse to blame someone/something else. You want to avoid the truth. You don't like to admit that you're scared. Well, you do, technically, but you never admit what you're truly scared of. You'll make jokes or you'll make excuses or you'll get angry. But you won't admit the darker truth behind all of that. At least, not out loud. Also, your socks are not where they should be. No, silly, not those ones. The other ones. The ones you've forgotten about... or have you?

Gemini: You have more value and worth than you're giving yourself credit for. Your self esteem is shit, I can see that from a mile away. But you're so very worthy of all the good in your life. You deserve to love yourself unconditionally. You deserve to advocate for yourself. It's okay to tell people to treat you the way you want to be treated. Thanks for the butter lettuce that one time. That was dope.

Cancer: Holy fuck I'm really hurt by my cancer-ex right now, so I shouldn't even do this one. He was such a piece of shit. He literally lied to everyone about- okay, okay, I'll stop. I'll focus on other cancer energies around me and snip the connection with Evil Ex. *deep breath* okay, Cancers who haven't stolen $1,500 from me & cut my mattress in half: You're doing fine. You're doing great. You've been working towards some huge things in your life right now and I'm so proud of you. You may not feel like you're getting as far as those around you, but you're not even competing in the same race. Your journey is entirely your own. You're going at the perfect pace to complete it, because it's your pace.

Leo: People cannot and will not fall madly in love with you after the first moment they meet you. I promise you, this is not a Disney movie. You are holding these expectations of popularity and love from all high above the water while you're drowning in it. Focus on yourself. Focus on your mental health and your journey to self-acceptance. There's no clock that controls love. You have time. Stop tossing aside your boundaries just because someone makes you feel special. Your support system is filled with love for you. But one of them is kinda hungry right now. She could really use a vegan milkshake omg that sounds delicious right now please please please.

Virgo: Who the fuck is even a virgo? I don't know a single virgo, stop lying. No one has ever been born between... what even is it, again? August 23rd?? To September 22nd??? Yeah fucking right. As if those dates even exist. Ridicul- oh fuck Jenna Marbles is a virgo. Okay. But that's the only one. Everyone else was lied to about their birthday. August only has 22 days and September doesnt even start until the 23rd.

Libra: Your past can only define you for so long. You can only blame your childhood and your upbringing in so many situations until you need to take a step back and realize you're in control of yourself. It's your responsibility to unlearn toxic thing you've grown up around. It's your responsibility to fight past ugly narratives that your family has spun about the world. It's a lot bigger than your home town, I can promise you that much. You're capable of change. But it is YOUR responsibility to make that happen. Did you know Tom Selleck is a Libra? Well if you said yes, you're being silly. That wasn't true at all. I don't even know Tom's birthday.

Scorpio: You have been in some toxic relationships. I am so sorry for the things that your ex(es) have put you through. I'm sorry for the way it still effects you so strongly. But not wanting partners to "control you" does not mean they're not allowed to have boundaries. There is a difference between control and self-preservation. They are entitled to having boundaries in a relationship. Wash your face masks more often, okay bud?

Sagittarius: Hey, you're very special to me. I love and care about you very much. You have an unhealthy need for control of a situation. You're also pretty bad with your money. But that's not my business. By the way, how's that injury doing? The one you got a little bit ago? Oof. That was rough. I hope you're recovering well. I think it should be okay.

Capricorn: Oof. Lmao.

Capricorn 2: hahaha that last one was just a joke. I thought you wouldn't find it funny at all and that's exactly why I did it. Anyways, I meant it. I wondered for awhile why you kept avoiding people. Why you kept hiding away and pretending to just be ~busy~ but I understand now. They told me everything. Part of me wishes that I didn't know. Another part wishes I had known sooner. It doesn't matter. You won't talk about it either way.

Aquarius: Your emotional burdens could never be written by hollywood. People would tell your story, perfectly in every detail, and the audience would scowl. "Unrealistic" they would say. "It made no sense!" The crowd would shout. "That was entirely impossible." That one man in the front row would claim. They'd all be wrong. You've really been through the works, haven't you. I just looked up Tom Sellek's birthday. Did you know he is an Aquarius? Don't tell Libra. I want it to be a surprise :)

Pisces: I think it's time you talked with the people closest to you. You've been an emotional support person for too long. You're freying at the ends. You may think you're good at setting boundaries, but like... honestly? You're pretty shit at it. Look at your family. Right?? Now look at your friends. Not as bad, sure, but still. Goddamn. You deserve better than this. Also, please don't forget to pick up that thing from the store. Ugh. Fuck. What was it? I have it written down somewhere, I swear! Dammit. Candles? Right but there was something else too.... ugh. Hopefully it'll come to you later, idk good luck.

[lizacstuff]

Your thoughts on the first episode of the new season? And can we talk about all those parallels? Also I'm loving the summer vibes!

I'm LIVING for the summer vibes! Doesn't everything feel like a breath of fresh air? I definitely feel like new life has been injected into the series. And that new location is so beautiful, I LOVE IT.

As for the episode, I thought it was masterfully done. You could tell Ayse was back and bringing the perfect mix of comedy, romance and drama. And the sparkle! The show sparkles again. The almost two and half hours flew buy, I was on the edge of my seat, and the performances from Hande and Kerem were amazing. Plus I just adore every moment between Serkan and his new nemesis (aka his secret daughter).

On the sober side, I don't care how jerky Serkan got while battling cancer, or how he may have pushed her away, nothing they've shown us so far even begins to justify Eda not telling him about Kiraz, and it certainly doesn't justify her continuing to lie when he's standing right in front of her making overtures (and her daughter is clearly longing for her father). Obviously, there are still many things we don't know and I'm sure there are many flashbacks to come, and Eda has been though so much, but still...I don't see how they will thread that needle and have Eda come out unscathed.

That being said, with this first episode they executed this story so well and it really does give new life to the series, so I won't dwell on the fact that Eda never would have done this. Never. We just have to move past it, accept that it's a soap opera plot device designed to give us an amazing second season packed with all sorts of amazing scenes and just enjoy every minute while it lasts.

(More under the cut)

I'll get to more on Edser later, as for everyone else... silliness abounds.

First... Erdem cheated on Leyla? WHAT!?!?! With whom? But I guess that was a clean way to explain Leyla leaving.

Engin and Piril, I love that Engin is staying home with their son, and that young actor is a cutie! As for Piril... GRRRRRR... she is still on my shitlist. Last time it was for betraying Eda (and Serkan) by enabling Selin's reign of terror, this time it's by betraying her friend and business partner Serkan! Good grief. If Piril just found out recently at the start of this project I could accept on her holding off because it's not her secret to run off and tell, but what I can't accept is her actively working against Serkan finding out. Even if in this episode she had gently said to Eda... "do you think maybe it's time you told him?" it would be a lot easier to swallow... but nope! She's acting like it would be the end of the world if Serkan found out. I sincerely hope that when everyone finds out and Engin finds out Piril knew, it causes problems between them. She deserves that.

She remains my second least favorite character. Who was my least favorite character this episode? Oh you know! Awful Ayfer is back! We got a reprieve from her in the last arc, but she's back to her annoying, controlling, Serkan-hating ways. Eda is a mother, an international award-winning landscape architect and business owner and she still has to lie to Ayfer because she's such a pain-in-the-ass? Watching her is going to be a trial.

Even though it feels like both Aydan and Ayfer were reset to zero character development, and Aydan has done worse (keeping the fact that Serkan was alive from Eda) I still find her a much easier character to take. Probably because Neslihan is a much better comedic actress, so she's a lot more entertaining. But... Aydan's been with Kemal for 5 years and hasn't told Serkan? WHY? I can't believe Kemal didn't give her an ultimatum years ago. I was loving, however, Serkan being in the way for both Aydan/Kemal and Engin/Piril. GOOD. Those people caused problems for him at one point or another or were in the way, it was nice to see him return the favor. I like Kemal and am still hoping they'll do a parallel "not knowing your father thing" and reveal he's Serkan's bio dad while Serkan is finding out he had a child he never knew about.

Melo and Seyfi were their awesome supportive, funny selves. It was great to see both of them, I'm so glad they stayed.

As for the new characters, love the kids. The new hotel manager is apparently ditzy and starstruck over Serkan, and I don't really understand how she's going to be integrated into the cast, but I love that she was used as a device to show us that Serkan has zero interest in any woman who is not Eda Yildiz. Eda's assistant seems like he'll be a fine side character. As for Burak, he seems harmless, obviously he has feeling for Eda that she does not reciprocate (fuck off Ayfer trying to push her on him) but hopefully they don't make him a psycho like Deniz. I did think he was a bit out of line to Serkan. Isn't that his cafe? And a customer has his glass spilled by a child in his care, and he insults him instead of apologizing? That is the worst customer service I've ever seen! He's a character that could wear on me quickly, we shall see. Kiraz can't help but be sassy because of genetics, but some of the adults in her life seem to be modeling rude behavior!

Now on to Eda and Serkan, I can't say enough about Hande and Kerem's acting in this episode. Phenomenal! They were both brilliant. Plus both are doing a great job working off of Maya (especially Kerem) those scenes were priceless. I don't often enjoy kids on shows, but so far I'm loving this dynamic.

As for Edser, while we don't know everything yet it feels like Serkan got to a point where he couldn't stand to see Eda in pain and putting her life on hold, he outright mentioned that she might not have graduated if they'd stayed together, and so that was part of the reason he reverted to his robot self and pushed her away. I'm going to guess she tried and tried and he was just unyielding. Saying he didn't want to get married or have kids in the harshest way possible. Perhaps even she went to tell him that she was pregnant and he went off on not wanting kids before she could even tell him. Time will tell.

At this juncture, my best guess is Eda's fear is rooted in rejection. It can't be that she thinks Serkan is a terrible person that doesn't deserve to know his child, or would be detrimental to Kiraz. However, she knows what it feels like to be rejected by Serkan, I'm sure she was beyond devastated, so I'm guessing now she's bent on protecting her daughter from feeling that same rejection. She fears if he found out, but wanted nothing to do with her, it would feel worse than him not knowing. She's not thinking clearly and perhaps it hasn't even occurred to her that the man she fell in love with is still under there and that man is fully capable of opening his heart wide to their child.

The fact that this child, a stranger to him, already has him wrapped around her little finger to the tune of being late to meetings while he waits for her to pick berries, speaks volumes.

The lies that Eda is telling Kiraz though... there is a fairy tale poetry to Eda saying her father is among the stars... but there was no way this would ever end well. Such a bad idea. Eda.... has made mistakes.

As for Eda and Serkan, their reunion was so bitter sweet. The way Serkan was sure he was hallucinating her and couldn't believe she was real, speaks to the fact that his thinking he saw her that morning was not an anomaly. It must happen all the time. She's never left his thoughts in 5 years. Especially since Engin makes it clear that women throw themselves at Serkan all the time, and he never bites. That's a lot of years celebrate, pining after a love he lost through his own actions. Though it's not that surprising that he didn't pursue other women, as he's never been a character who was motivated by sex. Which makes it hilarious that during his presentation that's where his mind was at, remembering their intimate times together. Serkan Bolat is an Edasexual.

Serkan seemed to want to brush past what happened between them, how they ended, but from Eda's pain, it's clear it was gut-wrenching and tragic and that's something he's going to need to recon with in the coming episodes. But how refreshing that they actually talked! That Eda actually expressed her pain to him! Wowza, that's a change from recent episodes when they didn't even have a proper conversation after he got his memory back.

The flashback scenes were a combination of pure brilliance and pain. Just rip out my heart why don't you. Serkan's angry reactions seem very believable for someone suffering what he was going through. I think it's typical to lash out at the person closest to you. And their fear and pain, their commitment to getting him better and seeing it through... those scenes were made all the more heartbreaking knowing that they didn't make it out the other side intact.

On a lighter note, I loved how even despite their intention and best efforts to remain closed off to one another, and away from one another, they couldn't. Physically, Serkan couldn't stay away, and every time Eda was in his presence you saw her resolve slip and her start to feel that old pull towards him. The fact that Eda thinks there's any way to keep this secret and get rid of him, she must just be in full panic mode and not thinking clearly. She's never going to shake him.

Thank goodness Serkan came back and actually issued a sincere apology for what he said at coffee. He definitely owed her one, but what was extraordinary is that it showed that the growth he went through when they were together didn't regress. He was able to apologize and explain that he was angry and hurt and that's why it happened. If you remember from the first time around, saying sorry was something he was just unable to do, so this felt big to me. He's not the same robot Bolat, she left an indelible mark on him.

As for him making her present her proposal, it's really not out-of-line for the professional relationship, however, we all know he did it just so he had an excuse to be around her. That man will take any excuse, plus he likes to get a rise out of her.

The dinner scene was breathtaking. How beautiful and achingly romantic was that setting? Wowza. And what a roller coaster of emotion those scenes were. It was great to watch them talk and laugh. Who didn't swoon when he deveined her shrimp and when she gave him fries? But we had to know it wouldn't last. Eda's speech had me breathless. Serkan had that coming, it hurt but it had to happen. What a relief to see them get things out in the open. Now I hope we get to see them really talk about what happened and why. Explain yourself Serkan!

As for the next episode, I was so hopeful that the Kiraz secret would be out after the final scene, but the first fragman makes it look like that's not going to happen, at least not at the start of the episode. My fear is that if Eda outright lies to him that just makes everything worse. The longer she keeps it from him, when they're back in each other's orbits and it's clear he's not running away, it makes her more and more at fault.

In any case, it looks like we're in for some fabulous scene so I look forward to the second episode!

[headsortails-storyofagayguy]

Two Against One

Waiting in my specialist office I get called over to the receptionist desk. Their was an issue with my insurance that caused them to cancel my appointment; I had valid insurance but it wasn’t updated so the system so it booted me out. Fortunately one of the nurses asked why I was coming in today, I had explained to her about my visit to the ER earlier in the month and a few moments later I’m sitting in the exam room waiting for my specialist to come in and explain what’s going on with me. Two weeks before I had seen my primary doctor and had a serious conversation about my symptoms and what was discovered during my visit at the ER with the CATScan and labs. The reality is that cancer was back on the table of possibilities of why I feeling off and it scared the hell out of me. My specialist comes into the exam room holding a folder; my folder. It has been quite some time since I’ve seen him. Almost two year without doctors, screening and surgeries because I was healthy… but that’s era of peace is now gone. To discover today my old growths are growing back, and that there is a now new form of cancer from what the CATScan, labs, and testing have shown them. Earlier today before I had my appointment my dad randomly told me, we go through certain experiences in life for us to grow. He’s not aware of my current situation, hard to break the news to unfortunate. As I perp myself to go back on the operating table in two weeks. I look back at what my dad said and reflect on those words of wisdom. I told my mom over lunch as much as I didn’t want to bear her anymore pain I had to let her know it was back but this time it came with an unwelcome friend. She did her best by telling me “You got to fight, parents shouldn’t have to bury there kids first… kids are supposed to bury there parents…. You’ll get through this.”

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Syntax6

Syntax6 has 17 stories at Gossamer, but you should visit her website for the complete collection of her fics and to see the cover art that comes with many of the stories (and to find her pro writing!). She's written some of the most beloved casefiles in the fandom. I've recced literally all of them here before. Twice. Big thanks to Syntax6 for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

I’m delighted but not surprised because I’ve written and read fanfic for shows even older than XF. Also, I joined the XF fandom relatively late, at the end of 1999, so there were already hundreds of “classic” fics out there, stories that were theoretically superseded or dated by canon developments that came after them, but which nonetheless remained compelling in their own right. That is the beauty of fanfic: it is inspired by its original creators but not bound by them. It’s a world of “what if” and each story gets to run in a new direction, irrespective of the canon and all the other stories spinning off in their own universes. In this way, fanfic becomes almost timeless.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it? What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

(I feel these are similar, at least for me, so I will combine them here.)

First and foremost, I found friends. There was a table full of XF fanfic writers at my wedding. Bugs was my maid of honor. I still talk to someone from XF fandom pretty much every day. Lysandra, Maybe Amanda, Michelle Kiefer, bugs…these are just some of the people who’ve been part of my life for half my existence now. Sometimes I get to have dinner with Audrey Roget or Anjou or MCA. Deb Wells and Sarah Ellen Parsons are part of my pro fic beta team. I have a similar list from the Hunter fandom, terrific people who have enriched my life in numerous ways and I am honored to count as friends.

Second, I learned a lot about writing during my years in XF fandom. I grew up there. Part of this growth experience was simply due to practice. I wrote about 1.2 million words of XF fanfic, which is the equivalent of 15 novels. I made mistakes and learned from them. But another essential part of learning is absorbing different kinds of well-told tales, and XF had these in spades. Some stories were funny. Others were lyrical. Some were short pieces with nary a word wasted while others were sprawling epics that took you on an adventure. The neat thing about XF is that it has space for many different kinds of stories, from hard-core sci-fi to historical romance. You can watch other authors executing these varied pieces and learn from them. You can form critique groups and ask for betas and get direct feedback on how to improve. It’s collaborative and fun, and this can’t be underestimated, generally supportive. The underlying shared love of the original product means that everyone comes into your work predisposed to enjoy it. I am grateful for all the encouragement and the critiques I received over my years in fandom.

Finally, I think a valuable lesson for writers that you can find in fandom, but not in your local author critique group, is how to handle yourself when your work goes public. Not everyone is going to like your work and they will make sure you know it. Some people will like it maybe too much, to the point where they cross boundaries. Learning to disengage yourself from public reaction to your work is a difficult but crucial aspect of being a writer. You control the story. You can’t control reaction to it. It’s frustrating at first, perhaps, but in the end, it’s freeing.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

I participated in ATXC, the Haven message boards, and the Scullyfic mailing list/news group. For a number of years, I also ran a fic discussion group with bugs called The Why Incision.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I started reading XF fanfic before I began watching the show. I had watched one season two episode (Soft Light) and then seen bits and pieces of a few others from season four. I’d seen Fight the Future. Basically, I’d seen enough to know which one was Mulder and which one was Scully, and which one believed in aliens. An acquaintance linked me to a rec site for XF fanfic (Gertie’s, maybe?) so that I could see how fic was formatted for the web. I clicked a fic, I think it was one by Lydia Bower dealing with Scully’s cancer arc, and basically did not stop reading. Soon I was printing off 300K of fic to take home with me each night. I could not believe the level of talent in the fandom, and that there were so many excellent writers just giving away their works for free. I wanted to play in this sandbox, too, so I started renting the VHS tapes to catch up on old episodes (see, I am An Old). After a few months, I began writing my own stuff.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I had to be dragged kicking and screaming to The X-Files. I’m not a sci-fi person by nature. I think my main objection is that, when done poorly, it feels lazy to me. Who did the thing? A ghost! Maybe an alien? I guess we’ll never know. You can always just shrug and play some spooky music and the “truth will always be out there…” somewhere beyond the story in front of you. You never have to commit to any kind of truth because you can invent some magical power or new kind of alien to change the story. I think, by the bitter end, the XF had devolved into this kind of storytelling. The mytharc made no kind of sense even in its own universe. But for years the XF achieved the best aspects of sci-fi storytelling—narrative flexibility and an apotheosis of our current fears dressed up as a super entertaining yarn.

What eventually sold me on the XF as a show is all of the smart storytelling and the sheer amount of ideas contained within its run. At its best, it’s a brilliant show. You have mediations on good versus evil, the role of government in a free society, is there a God, are we alone in the universe, and what are the elements that make us who we are? If Mulder and Morris Fletcher switch bodies, how do we know it’s really “them”? The tonal shifts from week to week were clever and engaging. For Vince Gilligan, truth was always found in fellow human beings. For Darin Morgan, humans were the biggest monster of all. The show was big enough to contain both these premises, and indeed, was stronger for it. The deep questions, the character quirks, the unsolved mysteries and all that went unsaid in the Mulder-Scully relationship left so much room for fanfic writers to do their own work. As such, the fandom attracted and continues to attract both dabbling writers and those who are serious craftspeople. People who like the mystery and those who like the sci-fi angle. Scientists and true believers. Like the show, it’s big enough for all.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

I look at it like an old friend I catch up with once in a while. We’ve been close for so long that there’s no awkwardness—we just get each other! I love seeing people post screen shots and commentary, and I think it’s wonderful that so many writers are still inventing new adventures for Mulder and Scully. That is how the characters live on, and indeed how any of us lives on, through the stories that others tell about us.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

I ran the Hunter fandom for about five years, mostly because when I poked my head back in, I found the person in change was a bully who’d shut down everything due to her own waning interest. A person would try to start a topic for discussion, and she’d say, “We’ve already covered that.” Well, yes, in a 30-year-old show, there’s not a lot of new ground…

Most other shows, Hunter included, have smaller fandoms and thus don’t attract the depth of fan talent. I don’t just mean fanfic writers. I mean those who do visual art, fan vids, critiques, etc. The XF fandom has all these in droves, which makes it a rare and special place. But all fandoms have the particular joy of geeking out over favorite scenes and reveling in the meeting of shared minds. It will always look odd to those not contained within it, which brings me to the part of modern fandom I find somewhat uncomfortable…the creators are often in fan-space.

In Hunter, the female lead joins fan groups and participates. This is more common now in the age of social media, where writers, producers, actors, etc., are on the same platforms as the rest of us. Fan and creator interaction used to be highly circumscribed: fans wrote letters and maybe received a signed headshot in return. There were cons where show runners gave panels and took questions from the audience. You could stand in line to meet your favorite star. Now, you can @ your favorite star on Twitter, message her on Facebook or follow him on Instagram. In some ways, this is so fun! In other ways, it blurs in the lines in ways that make me uncomfortable. I think it’s rude, for example, if a fan were to go on a star’s social media and post fanfic there or say, “I thought the episode you wrote was terrible.” But what if it’s fan space and the actor is sitting right there, watching you? Is it rude to post fanfic in front of her, especially if she says it makes her uncomfortable? Is it mean to tell a writer his episode sucked right to his face?

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

I own the first seven seasons on DVD and will pull them out from time to time to rewatch old faves. I’ve shown a few episodes over the spring and summer to my ten-year-old daughter, and it’s been fun to see the series through her eyes. We’ve mostly opted for the comedic episodes because there’s enough going on in the real world to give her nightmares. Her favorite so far is Je Souhaite.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I don’t have much bandwidth to read fanfic these days. My job as a mystery/thriller author means I have to keep up with the market so I do most of my reading there right now. I also beta read for some pro-fic friends and betaing a novel will keep you busy.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

I read so much back in the day that this answer could go on for pages. Alas, it also hasn’t changed much over the past fifteen years because I haven’t read much since then. But, as we’re talking Golden Oldies today, here are a bunch:

All the Mulders, by Alloway I find this short story both hilarious and haunting. Scully embraces her power in the upside down post-apocalyptic world.

Strangers and the Strange Dead, by Kipler Taut prose and an intriguing 3rd party POV make this story a winner, and that’s before the kicker of an ending, which presaged 1013’s.

Cellphone, by Marasmus Talk about your killer twists! Also one of the cleverest titles coming or going.

Arizona Highways, by Fialka I think this is one of the best-crafted stories to come out of the XF. It’s majestic in scope, full of complex literary structure and theme, and yet the plot moves like a runaway freight train. Both the Mulder and Scully characterizations are handled with tender care.

So, We Kissed, by Alelou What I love about this one is how it grounds Mulder and Scully in the ordinary. Mulder’s terrible secret doesn’t involve a UFO or some CSM-conspiracy. Scully goes to therapy that actually looks like therapy. I guess what I’m saying is that I utterly believe this version of M & S in addition to just enjoying reading about them.

Sore Luck at the Luxor, by Anubis Hot, funny, atmospheric. What’s not to love?

Black Hole Season, by Penumbra Nobody does wordsmithing like Penumbra. I use her in arguments with professional writers when they try to tell me that adverbs and adjectives MUST GO. Just gorgeous, sly, insightful prose.

The Dreaming Sea, by Revely This one reads like a fairytale in all the best ways. Revely creates such loving, beautiful worlds for M & S to live in, and I wish they could stay there always.

Malus Genius, by Plausible Deniability and MaybeAmanda Funny and fun, with great original characters, a sly casefile and some clear-eyed musings on the perils of getting older. This one resonates more and more the older I get. ;)

Riding the Whirlpool, by Pufferdeux I look this one up periodically to prove to people that it exists. Scully gets off on a washing machine while Mulder helps. Yet it’s in character? And kinda works? This one has to be read to be believed.

Bone of Contention (part 1, part 2), by Michelle Kiefer and Kel People used to tell me all the time that casefiles are super easy to write while the poetic vignette is hard. Well, I can’t say which is harder but there much fewer well-done casefiles in the fandom than there are poetic vignettes. This is one of the great ones.

Antidote, by Rachel Howard A fic that manages to be both hot and cold as it imagines Mulder and Scully trying to stay alive in the frosty wilderness while a deadly virus is on the loose. This is an ooooold fic that holds up impressively well given everything that followed it!

Falling Down in Four Acts, by Anubis Anubis was actually a bunch of different writers sharing a single author name. This particular one paints an angry, vivid world for Our Heroes and their compatriots. There is no happy ending here, but I read this once and it stayed with me forever.

The Opposite of Impulse, by Maria Nicole A sweet slice of life on a sunny day. When I imagine a gentler universe for Mulder and Scully, this is the kind of place I’d put them.

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

Bait and Switch is probably the most sophisticated and tightly plotted. It was late in my fanfic “career” and so it shows the benefits to all that learning. My favorite varies a lot, but I’ll say Universal Invariants because that one was nothing but fun.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I never say never! I don’t have any oldies sitting around, though. Everything I wrote, I posted.

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I write casefiles…er, I mean mysteries, under my own name now, Joanna Schaffhausen. My main series with Reed and Ellery consists of a male-female crime solving team, so I get a little bit of my XF kick that way. Their first book, The Vanishing Season, started its life as an XF fanfic back in the day. I had to rewrite it from the ground up to get it published, but if you know both stories, you can spot the similarities.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

The answer any writer will tell you is “everywhere.” Ideas are cheap and they’re all around us—on the news, on the subway, in conversations with friends, from Twitter memes, on a walk through the woods. My mysteries are often rooted in true crime, often more than one of them.

Each idea is like a strand of colored thread, and you have to braid them together into a coherent story. This is the tricky part, determining which threads belong in which story. If the ideas enhance one another or if they just create an ugly tangent.

Mostly, though, stories begin by asking “what if?” What if Scully’s boyfriend Ethan had never been cut from the pilot? What if Scully had moved to Utah after Fight the Future? What if the Lone Gunmen financed their toys by writing a successful comic book starring a thinly veiled Mulder and Scully?

Growing up, I had a sweet old lady for a neighbor. Her name was Doris and she gave me coffee ice cream while we watched Wheel of Fortune together. Every time there was a snow storm, the snow melted in her backyard in a such way that suggested she had numerous bodies buried out there. How’s that for a “what if?”

What's the story behind your pen name?

I’ve had a few of them and honestly can’t tell you where they came from, it’s been so long ago. The “6” part of syntax6 is because I joke that 6 is my lucky number. In eighth grade, my algebra teacher would go around the room in order, asking each student their answer to the previous night’s homework problems. I realized quickly that I didn’t have to do all the problems, just the fifteenth one because my desk was 15th on her list. This worked well until the day she decided to call on kids in random order. When she got to me and asked me the answer to the problem I had not done, I just invented something on the spot. “Uh…six?”

Her: “You mean 0.6, don’t you?”

Me, nodding vigorously: “YES, I DO.”

Her: “Very good. Moving on…”

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

My close friends and family have always known, and reactions have varied from mild befuddlement to enthusiastic support. My father voted in the Spookies one year, and you can believe he read the nominated stories before casting his vote. I think the most common reaction was: Why are you doing this for free? Why aren’t you trying to be a paid writer?

Well, having done both now, I can tell you that each kind of writing brings its own rewards. Fanfic is freeing because there is no pressure to make money from it. You can take risks and try new things and not have to worry if it fits into your business plan.

(Posted by Lilydale on September 15, 2020)

[nanagoswife]

For You? Always.

Chapter Two

Summary: Ben tells reader some bad news.

W/C: 1.8k

Warnings: Mention of cancer

<<Previous, Next>>

A few weeks went by. Most of it was the usual business that happens in the office. One thing that was not, but became a usual occurrence, was talking to Ben. 

Throughout these weeks, you talked quite often. Almost every day. 

Often, he had to come to your office to coordinate with a few things for a new book that was being published. You would talk while you did, helping the time pass. Most of what you told him was stories with Siara, which helped him gauge how her personality changed since high school. In the process, you also gave him tips on what to do if she was mad, cranky, and more.

In return, he talked about his friends. All of whom lived everywhere other than here. Ben said how he has a lot of people he gets along with, but he’s not too close with any of them. Well, except you and Siara. 

Listening to his stories, he also delighted you in some from law school.

By this time, you had figured out how you knew him. You remembered not only school, but the cafe as well. This all confirmed your theory of why he left, but that day was never brought up.

“Siara has been the first one I’ve talked to in a while that I get along with easily. Same with you. Everyone else, I find, is nice but not very talkative,” he said after a small pause.

“Trust me,” you put a hand on his shoulder that slightly stiffened but quickly relaxed, “with time, they’ll open up. At first, it was the same for me as well. But after a few weeks, when they get used to you being here, they’ll act as if they never only made small talk.” 

Your words helped him relax and you felt the tension in his shoulder release a little more. Grinning, he gave you a nod of thanks as you brought your hand back with the other on your keyboard.

Turning back to the paper in front of him, he asked a few more questions for the project before leaving. The day was over after that, and you had personal plans to relieve the stress of work. Otherwise you’d ask if he wanted to talk longer.

Grabbing what you needed, you headed out.

Walking home, it was calm for the usual rush hour. Though this was a quieter part of the city, the traffic still gets bad some days. Today, the quietness helped as you took in a deep breath of the fresh air. 

The office was only a fifteen minute walk away from your house, making the commute enjoyable in your mind. It helped you relax for a bit.

Arriving at your single floor home, you stayed and read on the comfort of your couch until the last of the sun had disappeared from the sky. Then, it was time for you to leave and do something you did quite often. Going to the park to lay on a patch of grass to watch the stars and, most of all, admire the moon. 

The park was only a few minutes away. Like usual, the park was empty at this time of night. This left the walk on the path quiet and letting you begin to calm yourself at the sound of the gentle breeze waltzing through the trees.

Finding the usual patch of grass that was on a slight incline, you sat down and took in your surroundings before laying down. A few long blades of grass brushed your face, making you giggle at the ticklish sensation. You brought your arms up and placed your hands under your head as a pillow. Closing your eyes, you let yourself slip into a state of meditation, sensing and taking in everything around you.

The crisp night air was a refreshing change to the long day of heat that had faded. It ran a cool trail through your lungs, only to be warmed again as you breathed out. 

You slowed your breathing, drawing in long breaths each time. Leaves being rustled in the trees as it danced along with the light gusts of wind deepened your meditation and calm. 

Opening your eyes, the large moon lit up the sky, being assisted by the many shining stars that surrounded it. Instead of taking away the moon's beauty, it only made it more evident. Everything was perfect.

“Excuse me,” a soft voice sounded from behind you. 

Startled, you instantly sat straight up, feeling a slight sense of embarrassment flow through you. Turning around, you saw a figure standing on the dirt path. He looked familiar.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

It was Ben. You could tell it was his voice as he sounded frantic to make it known that he didn’t mean to startle you. He hung his head down as if he were mad at himself for scaring you in the moment. 

He continued, “I wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn’t know it was you otherwise I would’ve stayed silent.”

“Ben, it’s fine.” You saw him raise his head with a small, forced grin. “I just come here often and I’ve never come across another person here. Well, not at this time of day, anyway.”

“I’m sorry, I can leave i-if-” he started to turn away.

“No, don't worry about it. It’s fine,” you cut him off, seeing him stop mid turn. 

As you looked at him, his features were complimented in the moonlight. It was something that mesmerized you, like the moon. A light illuminating the darkness of night. 

Then, you noticed that you were staring at him and you worried about how long it was for.

“May I?” Ben took a small step forward as he gestured to the area beside you. Nodding your response, he slowly made his way down, but not without first hesitating. 

Quietly, you laughed to yourself. You’ve noticed in the last few weeks that he’s very courteous and gentlemanly. Always punctual as well, putting aside the first day. Yet you wouldn’t be surprised if he had gotten there on time but hesitated and waited for someone else to arrive before he entered.

Letting himself sit beside you, he leaned back, supporting himself with his elbows and put one leg over the other. For yourself, you brought your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. Oddly, you felt very comfortable with Ben here. You had always thought it was better alone, but this seemed more enjoyable.

The two of you sat in silence before Ben said, “Thank you.”

This confused you, “For what?”

“Helping me adjust to the new work environment, the tips, tricks and just letting me talk. It’s not something I’m used to,” he replied while looking at the stars. Then he turned to look at you, “Also, thank you for not turning me away.” 

You looked over at him to give him a smile, but was met with a down expression when he looked away for a moment. As he looked back up at you, he gave a forced grin.

“Are you okay?” You had to ask. It seemed like something was getting him down and something desperately wanted to help. 

From these few weeks of talking he became a good friend. You also knew that he was a pretty upbeat person. Everything he talked about had an energy, a passion that made him look kind and determined.

He took a deep, shaky breath but stayed silent for a few moments. You could see the glisten of tears slowly building up in his eyes.

“When I got to my apartment,” he started shakily, “I had a message on my answering machine from my mother telling me to call her. And, when I did sh-she told me-” 

His tears started to roll down his face, but he contained himself enough to say the rest. 

“She told me that she was waiting to receive results for if she ha-had can-” Ben broke down into tears, curling forward, holding his face in his hands. 

Even though he didn’t say it fully, he didn’t need to. You could easily piece the rest together.

Hearing him cry made your heart sink. You placed your hand on his back and gently rubbed it in comfort. Your own tears welled up in your eyes from the moment. 

Suddenly, he leaned over, resting his head on the side of your knee. You didn’t mind. Not only because of the situation, but because it felt natural. 

For a while, you continued to lightly rub his back. You did this until he calmed down enough.

Sitting back up, he sniffed and wiped his face dry. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-”

“Nonsense, you have no need to apologize. I’m just glad you aren't alone.” Saying this in a soft tone, you watched him gather himself up, taking a deep, wavering breath. 

Bringing his knees against his chest, you were both silent for a few moments.

“Do you know when she’s going to get the results?”

“She said in the next two to three days. All she told me is that she found a lump and they aren’t sure if it’s cancerous or a simple bacterial growth,” he replied. You rubbed his shoulder and then turned back to look up at the sky, dropping your hand from his shoulder.

You saw him slightly shiver. You would’ve dismissed it had you not missed having your hand resting against him. 

To shove this away, you cleared your throat and thought of an idea.

“Stay home until you find out. I’ll talk to Siara. I’m sure she’ll do fine by herself for a few days.”

You watched as he looked to you in surprise. It was like he thought he’d be forced to go to work through something like this.

You gave a small grin, “If you need more time after that, take it. We have more than enough people to cover so that you can use this time to be with your mom during this.” 

You met each other’s gazes, Ben gave a smile of thanks. Something about it warmed your heart.

For the next couple of hours, Ben stayed. It was spent mostly in silence, only a few words were exchanged. What you didn’t pay attention to was the time. 

When you looked at your watch, you cursed under your breath as you bolted up. 

Ben looked up, concerned, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes but I wasn’t paying attention to the time, leading me to stay longer than I meant to.” You started to stand. 

You took a few steps and then paused, turning back to Ben.

“And you better stay home otherwise I’ll be kicking you out of the building.” He laughed at that as you said bye, walking away quickly. 

Usually you’d stay longer, but tomorrow was an early start.

Next>>

@stardancerluv @jaydenwoo @madmax2003

[quicksilversquared]

Of Growing and Miraculous Pranks

Ladybug has always been shorter than Chat Noir, and even though Marinette has grown- well, the height gap between them just keeps getting bigger. She hadn't given it any thought- well, much thought, at least- until things started not quite lining up properly.

Or: Marinette grows. Ladybug doesn't.

links in the reblog

Marinette had been Ladybug for four years, three months, and fifteen days when she started realizing that- well, that something a bit strange was going on.

Everything started when she caught wind of the- apparently quite common- perception that Ladybug wasn't a teenager as a lot of people had originally thought, but actually an adult. For some reason, though, people still saw Chat Noir as a teenager instead of assuming the same thing about him.

"I don't know why people would think that, Tikki," Marinette told her kwami that afternoon, after she had made her excuses with Alya and headed home from their group outing a little early to get a bit of homework done. "I mean, when we started out- well, it was pretty obvious that we weren't experienced, and that we were learning a lot, and then there was that stupid textbook, too, plus I was really short then. So maybe I wasn't happy that people had figured out that I'm a teenager, but it at least that assumption made sense!"

Tikki giggled. "Maybe it's the Miraculous magic that's interfering?" she suggested, the impish look on her face suggesting that she knew exactly what was going on but she wasn't going to tell. "At any rate, that's a good thing, right? People aren't thinking about someone your age when they try to figure out Ladybug's identity!"

"Ugh, I don't know," Marinette muttered, making a mental note to maybe look into the subject more later on. She honestly didn't keep up with the news about her and her partner much anymore- she had better things to do with her time, both in her normal life (unfortunately, superheroes still had homework and babysitting and commission deadlines) and the superhero one. That was why the whole we think Ladybug is actually an adult! had taken her by such surprise. "I mean, I guess, but does it really matter that much what the public thinks if Hawkmoth knows that the timers are a sign of a Miraculous holder not being an adult yet? It might throw Alya off of my trail a bit more, but- well, I've already done that, when I used the Fox to create a Mirage of Ladybug rescuing Marinette!"

Tikki giggled some more. "More confusion around your identities is always a good thing! Even if it's just one of the city's superhero reporters that doesn't think that it's possible for you to be the same person."

"Yeah, I guess." Marinette thought about it for another minute, then shrugged and pushed the thought away. She was far too busy to waste time wondering about inaccurate speculation and gossip about her superhero self. It wasn't as though it was doing anyone any harm, anyway. "I'll figure it out later. Tikki, can you pass me my Literature notebook? I want to finish all of this week's readings today. Then maybe I'll have enough time later in the week to tailor a couple of my outfits so that they fit me better."

"Okay, Marinette!"

"Ugh, Chat Noir, can you stop growing?"

Up ahead of her, Chat Noir snickered, shoving his hair back out of his face as he flashed a devilish look back at her. "Jealous, Bug? It's not my fault that I've actually grown and you- have you shrunk, maybe?"

"Ugh," Ladybug grumbled again, pushing herself forward as they raced across town towards a reported akuma. That was totally unfair. She had grown, surpassing her mom and keeping up with all of her friends. Maybe she wasn't the tallest out of them, but it wasn't as though she was dwarfed by Adrien and Nino or anything. Adrien was the tallest of her friends, even, and she came up to just around his nose, but with Chat Noir?

With his latest growth spurt, Ladybug would be lucky if the top of her head even managed to reach his shoulders. Her partner delighted in his towering height, making a big deal about teasing her about being able to reach things without jumping, or swinging herself up.

Not that it was exactly a big deal if she had to do that, of course. It wasn't hard. Besides, being small had its advantages! There was less surface area to get grabbed or hit by akumas, it was easier to wedge herself into hiding spots, she could slip into small spaces far more easily than her gangly partner...

...but still. It was the principle of the thing. She didn't exactly want to look like a child next to her ridiculously towering partner. Maybe the city had decided that she was actually the adult out of the two for some strange reason, but it would be nice to actually look the part.

(Her one condolence was that there were short adults, ones even shorter than her. She would have been super grumpy if she had stopped growing at her mom's height, since- well, Ladybug was pretty certain that no one would have taken her very seriously if even some école élémentair students towered over her.)

"My Lady?" Chat Noir asked after several minutes of running had passed. He had slowed down, Ladybug noted in the back of her mind, and she had subconsciously matched him. "You're quieter than usual. I don't actually think that you've shrunk!"

Ladybug had to laugh at that. "I know, kitty-cat. And I have grown, I swear! Just- just not to ridiculous-person heights," she added with a sniff, turning up her nose. "It's completely unnecessary."

Chat Noir snickered at that, his ears perking back up as his worry clearly dissipated. "Unnecessary? Do you want to know how useful that unnecessary height is in my civilian life? Why, just the other day, my friend's mom asked me to grab something from a high shelf so that she didn't have to get out the stepstool, and she called me a very helpful young man when I did!"

"I've heard that tall people have a higher risk of blood clots and cancer," Ladybug parried, hoping that she was actually remembering her reading for health class correctly. "And heart issues. I'd rather have to pull out a stool than have heart issues."

Chat Noir practically fell over as he laughed even harder. "I think you're making stuff up and evading! Cancer, really?"

"Am not!" Ladybug insisted, even though she was totally evading Chat Noir's point. Adrien had done something similar for her mom earlier in the week (and had been rewarded with a cookie, which he had been far too happy about), and Marinette had been thankful for his height and extra reach then. He helped her and Alya all the time with reaching books in the library, too, when there was something that they couldn't quite reach. It didn't happen often, necessarily- neither of the two girls were really short, just normal sized thank-you-very-much- but sometimes a book was just barely out of reach and it wouldn't be a good idea to try to pull it down because it could slip out of her grasp and hit her head and then knock her out and then she would get a concussion and fail her exams and-

Well. Anyway. It was probably a better idea to either ask for help or grab a stool instead of risking injury to herself or damage to the book.

"I hope you know that I'm looking that up when I get home," Chat Noir informed her. Then he snuck another glance at her, slowing down a touch more. At this rate, civilians were going to start complaining about the superheroes taking forever to get there.

Ladybug quirked an eyebrow at him. "What, kitty-cat?"

"You know, if your height bugs you that much, my Lady, Plagg told me that our transformations- well, they can be whatever we want," Chat Noir told her, his voice going quiet so that no one would overhear him. "And, if we really wanted to, it can change, like, physical features. Like height."

Ladybug blinked at him, and then her partner's suggestion sunk in and she scowled. "I'm not going to cheat and magic myself taller, Chat Noir!"

"It was just a suggestion, in case the height stuff was really bothering you!" Chat Noir yelped, backpedaling quickly. "In case you didn't know about that bit but might be interested! I wasn't saying that you should or anything! Just that it was something you could consider. If you wanted to."

"I wouldn't consider it," Ladybug told him tartly. "What would be the point?"

(That was a lie. She totally considered it.)

(Just for a moment, though. Really.)

Marinette scowled as she shot out of yet another hiding spot that had been invaded by other students and made (another) dash for it, pushing herself to run as fast as she could. She could hear the akuma drawing closer, and she really had to transform before the akuma tore into the area and zapped her up alongside all of the other civilians in the street.

Ugh. Why couldn't people find their own hiding spots and leave hers alone? Everyone knew by now that the more people that were hidden in a spot, the more likely it was that the akuma of the day would find them.

"Marinette! Hold tight!"

"What-" Marinette started, startled, before she was scooped up my a pair of familiar arms. A second later, she and her rescuer were up on the rooftops and positively flying across the city, the streets a blur below.

Aha. It was Chat Noir.

It had been a few years since she had really interacted with her partner as a civilian, Marinette realized as she clung to Chat Noir's shoulders. There hadn't really been any akumas targeting her, not since Lila had been sent packing in disgrace, and the agility and strength that she had gotten from battles as a superhero helped her get out of the way before she could get in much danger- well, most of the time, at least. There hadn't been any more akumas wanting to go out on dates with her, either, or awkward encounters leading to more-awkward brunches with her parents. So it was honestly a little surprising that he remembered her name, all things considered, and even more surprising that he would go out of his way to rescue her specifically.

Not that it wasn't appreciated, of course, because it very much was. But it was still surprising.

"That akuma doesn't look like one to mess around with," Chat Noir puffed in her ear as he launched them across a street. "And I'm pretty certain that I saw Hawkmoth and Mayura out and about, too. So this battle is going to be super fun."

"Can you drop me off at my house?" Marinette asked right away They were headed in that direction anyway, she could tell, and if her partner was right- and he often was- about the supervillains being out, then she would need to grab a few Miraculous for backups before going out. "I can stay there, it should be far enough away from the akuma. You remember, at the bakery?"

"Got it, Princess!" Chat Noir's trajectory didn't change, which- well, which suggested that he had been headed for the bakery anyway. He adjusted his grip and sped up when a loud bang behind them signaled that some building had been pretty well destroyed. "Hold tight!"

It didn't take long at all for them to reach the bakery. Chat Noir landed lightly on her balcony, neatly avoiding all of the chairs and the table that she and the other girls had left out after their most recent tea party. "Here you go!"

"Thank you," Marinette told him, loosening her legs from around his waist and dropping lightly to the ground before reaching forward to give him a hug. "The save is greatly appre-"

She stopped. Paused. Because instead of her head just barely reaching his shoulders, like she was used to as Ladybug, her head came up to his nose. Somehow, the height difference had shrunk by a head.

What.

"Is something wrong, Marinette?" Chat Noir asked after a second had passed. He sounded confused.

Marinette shook her head hastily,. "No, it's, uh- I just thought you were taller! Because Ladybug is so much shorter in all of your pictures, you know?" she added hastily, trying to cover her slip. "So, uh..."

Chat Noir laughed at that. "Yeah, she's a tiny bug, isn't she?" he asked, his tone entirely fond. "But what she lacks in height, she more than makes up for in spirit and spitfire. And if people underestimate her because of her size- well, that just makes our job a bit easier, right? The akuma thinks it doesn't need to try its hardest to win, and we stroll up and hand them their ass on a platter."

"Right," Marinette managed, just barely keeping herself from frowning. She was Ladybug! Why was Chat Noir talking as though she was so much taller than her alter ego?

"I never tell her how endearing that is, because I worry that she might feel like I'm patronizing her, but it's really just like- well, she's one heck of a firecracker in a small package." Chat Noir grinned at her. "Small but packs far more of a punch than anyone would expect. And I should really get back so that she doesn't end up facing the akuma on her own," he added quickly, stepping back and giving her a wave. "Stay safe, Marinette!"

Marinette waved, waiting for Chat Noir to launch himself into the air before diving into her room and digging for the Miraculous box. She pulled out four Miraculous- three to definitely use, and a bonus just in case- and then called for Tikki.

She would have to mull over the strange height disparity later. Right now, duty called.

The weirdness only continued. Now that Ladybug was aware that there was something off, it seemed as though she just couldn't stop noticing other things that seemed didn't seem quite right. The most recent Odd Thing, as she had decided to dub it, was when Ladybug had escorted many of her classmates- including Nino, Alya, and Adrien- to safety, since there was an akuma rampaging through the building that they were visiting on their field trip, and of course she didn't want them hurt. It hadn't taken much to get people to evacuate, and now she was taking a quick breather before plunging back into the fight.

And in the seconds that made up that breather, Ladybug had noticed that her friends seemed a lot taller than normal. But how could they be taller?

Something really, really weird was going on, that was for sure. Adrien was as tall as Chat Noir it seemed, with her head only reaching his shoulders, and Nino and Alya seemed to have shot up as well. She had to wonder if maybe her perception of her friends' heights was just off somehow- she had been wearing (low) heels to school sometimes, maybe that was it- but there hadn't been much time to think about it then. The akuma was raging ever closer, and an evacuation to a safe zone did no good if the akuma was allowed to reach the safe zone again.

So once again, Ladybug didn't allow herself time to think about how plausible her explanation was. She flung herself into the fight, and by the time it ended, the only concern on Marinette's mind was thinking up an explanation for her being gone for the entire battle.

Then she saw Chat Noir as her civilian self again, followed by Ladybug making the time to do a one-on-one interview with Alya. Ladybug had to save Adrien from an overeager fan who had been akumatized. Every time, something just seemed off, but- well, she never really had the time to give it any thought.

The last straw finally came when Marinette was browsing the Ladyblog for the first time in- well, ages.

A reduced amount of homework had coincided with both a break in commissions and an unusually low number of akuma attacks, so she had decided to take advantage of the break to catch up on some much-needed rest and to catch up with what was being said about her on the Ladyblog.

And on the blog, there- well, there was a photo. A series of photos, really, in a very lovely article posted on the most recent Heroes Day and pinned to the top of the page. It was a reflection on the years of akumas and all that the superheroes had done for the city, with pictures from the most recent Heroes Day celebration along with photos from past celebrations. Ladybug and Chat Noir were in all of the photos, of course, with a rotating cast of secondary heroes behind them. Each year, it was obvious that Chat Noir was growing taller, catching up to the Mayor's height easily, a boy's silhouette turning into a man's. Next to him...

Marinette compared the pictures once, twice, three times. No, it wasn't just her imagination. Chat Noir grew taller and filled out with lean muscle, but next to him- well, Ladybug looked like she might as well have been copy-pasted from year to year. And in one of the last photos...

"My arms aren't that twiggy, are they?" Marinette demanded, shrugging off her hoodie to get a better look at herself. Just like she had thought- her arms were like a gymnast's, hardly bulky but clearly strong with lean, practiced muscles, just like the rest of her. Marinette had had to awkwardly wave off comments about her muscles before- after all, no one just got the physique of a professional gymnast without putting in some work- so she knew that her muscles were there and noticeable. And yet, in that photo...

Maybe it was just a bad angle?

No. No, she wasn't just going to accept that and move on. Marinette had been noticing things that were off between her normal self and her alter-ego for a while now, and she had always waved them off as coincidences or her misremembering things. But not anymore. She refused.

Today, Marinette was going to figure out what was going on.

Snatching up a book and a stray piece of chalk, Marinette stalked over to a blank section of wall. Facing the wall, she placed the book on her head, flat and level. Once she was satisfied with how flat it was, Marinette swiped a short line of chalk under the book, marking her Marinette height. Then she called on Tikki, who-

Well, who had apparently been napping before Marinette abruptly transformed. Whoops.

She's apologize later with a cookie. Tikki could never stay that upset for long.

With a small wince, Ladybug turned back to the wall, taking a step to the side so that she wouldn't be right on top of her previous mark before lining the book up again and making another mark. She stepped back, fully expecting the marks to be side-by-side and the whole looking like she didn't grow at all thing to be all in her head-

-but that wasn't the case.

"What the heck," Ladybug muttered, looking from one mark to the other. The Ladybug mark was significantly lower. She had probably been that height when she started being Ladybug over four years ago.

What was going on?

"No wonder I always look fourteen at most in the photos!" Ladybug exclaimed, glancing towards the mirror this time. From this angle, she could confirm that her superhero build looked just the same as it had at the start. "I'm stuck in my old form! Spots off!"

Tikki spiraled free and- oh, the little sprite was clearly muffling giggles. Marinette narrowed her eyes at her kwami. "Do you want to explain why my superhero self is an entire head shorter than my- well, my normal self?"

"It's not all my fault!" Tikki objected, clearly still swallowing her mirth. "You had a pretty specific picture of what Ladybug looked like after your first few transformation, so I- er, the magic- just assumed that you just wanted to keep your exact same transformation."

"Uh-huh." Marinette gave Tikki an unimpressed look. "And the magic just assumed that my 'very specific' image of Ladybug went all the way down to the exact measurements I had when I started? And that my 'image of Ladybug' wouldn't account for me growing?"

Tikki fell silent. Her eyes darted back and forth as she battled with keeping her smile hidden. Marinette waited, her arms crossed. And then Tikki cracked.

"Okay, fine, I might have fiddled with things a little bit," Tikki admitted, zipping backwards out of Marinette's reach. "I've done it before with other holders, to see how long it takes for them to notice, and it's always so funny when they do!"

"Ha ha," Marinette said dryly. She peered at Tikki. "So how fast did I notice, compared to your other holders?"

Tikki giggled. "You aren't going to like it."

Marinette groaned. "I did that badly, huh?"

"To be fair, you've been incredibly busy," Tikki assured her hastily. "You have school, and commissions, and babysitting, and putting together your portfolio, and doing long-distance studies with the Order of the Guardians, and akuma battles. You had more important things to worry about than if your superhero self had been growing at the same rate as your civilian self!"

Marinette remained less than convinced.

"Besides, it was helpful, wasn't it?" Tikki added hopefully. "It's easier to hide when you're smaller!"

The groan Marinette gave was Tikki's only answer.

A few minutes ticked by as Marinette contemplated what to do next. Her knee-jerk reaction was to ask Tikki to adjust the Ladybug transformation to grow with her right away, because she should have been growing alongside Chat Noir, and he had been teasing her about her height for ages. But a sudden jump in growth would no doubt attract attention from the press, along with unwanted speculation. If the public thought that she was an adult now- even if Hawkmoth wouldn't be fooled- then that could help keep her own identity secret from reporters and other curious people.

But on the other hand, Marinette wasn't very interested in keeping her superhero self short and spindly. Maybe it was just vanity, but she had worked hard during those akuma battles and earned those muscles. She had grown up, but the way she looked didn't reflect that at all. And she wanted it to.

(Well. Somewhat. She didn't get many comments on her figure- that she knew of, anyway- and she wasn't exactly interested in starting. Keeping a thirteen-year-old's body in that regard might be helpful.)

She didn't have to make a decision right away, Marinette decided after another minute's thought. There would be no harm in keeping her current transformation for a few more days while she figured out how much to change and how fast to change it.

After all, Ladybug had looked the exact same for years.

"What's new?" Chat Noir asked cheerfully as he landed next to Ladybug on a darkened rooftop. There were two separate contests going on in the city that evening, so the two of them had opted to call a patrol rather than just sit around waiting for an akuma to show up. "Anything interesting?"

"My kwami's been shrinking me."

Chat Noir blinked. Once. Twice. "Pardon?"

"I've been noticing some weird stuff going on," Ladybug explained, glancing across the city to make sure that there weren't any disturbances yet before turning back to her partner. "People I know in my civilian life who seem a lot taller when I'm transformed, mostly. And then I saw the photos on the Ladyblog with past Heroes Days- and I didn't look like I had grown at all, even though I have! So I marked my height on my wall, and I'm a whole head taller as my civilian self! Apparently Tikki was playing a prank on me."

Chat Noir blinked again, then sniggered. "That's hilarious!"

"It is not!" Ladybug protested. "I could have been growing all this time, so I wouldn't always look so short next to you! And how am I supposed to change to match what I should look like now without people thinking that I'm magicking myself to look different?" She spread her hands, gesturing at an invisible headline. "I can see the headlines now- 'Ladybug padding her suit?'. No thank you!"

Chat Noir choked, and it took Ladybug a moment to figure out where his brain had gone. Scowling, she tossed her yo-yo at him in gentle reprimand. "Not like that!"

"I- I'm sorry, what else was I supposed to think about?" Chat Noir managed, still sounding a bit choked. "There's not exactly a lot of things that people normally stuff!"

"Get your mind out of the gutter! I meant, like, muscle-wise." Ladybug tapped her biceps, still as bony-thin as they had been when she first started being a superhero. "I've gotten a fair bit of muscle from swinging all over Paris, but Tikki decided to hide that as part of her prank, too."

Chat Noir's shoulders relaxed. "Oh, okay. Gotcha."

"Though I do suppose that the tabloids would focus more on those other areas if I adjusted everything to match my build now," Ladybug mused, and was amused to see her partner promptly choke and turn red, clearly scandalized.

"Ladybug!"

Ladybug finally cracked and laughed, elbowing her partner "You should have seen your face! That was great!"

Chat Noir pouted, muttering something under his breath. Ladybug was pretty sure she heard the word meanie amongst the muttering, which only made her laugh harder. He stuck his lip out further in an even more dramatic pout, and she practically folded onto the rooftops, completely breathless.

She couldn't help it. His face.

Chat Noir made the best expressions.

"Ha, ha, very funny," Chat Noir grumbled, flopping down to sit next to her. "You are destroying my image of you, I hope you know that."

"I'm sure you'll survive." Finally getting her wheezing under control, Ladybug pushed herself back up to a sit. "I just couldn't resist."

They sat in silence for a minute, eyes scanning the city and listening intently for anything out of place. Finally Chat Noir spoke up again. "So what are you going to do about your transformation? Anything?"

Ladybug let out a long breath. "I keep asking myself that. Because, like, it's really good for hiding my identity, since I'm not at all the same height. But I worked hard for that muscle, darn it! Is it so wrong of me to actually want for it to show? Or to want to actually look like I've grown up at all?" She let out a long sigh. "I've been thinking about it and I for sure want to actually look like I have muscles, and I'll have to add that gradually. I just don't know about everything else."

Chat Noir hummed. "Well, maybe you can add some height but not all? Then it's still a bit of a disparity to throw off people who might be looking," he added. "And then once Hawkmoth is gone, go through a bit more of a growth spurt, since you won't have to transform during the day so often and people in your civilian life won't be wondering where you're vanishing off to all of the time."

"As if I really needed any more motivation to defeat Hawkmoth," Ladybug said with a laugh, but Chat Noir had a point. "That does sound reasonable, though. And if people notice me getting taller, then they might think that it's a clue, that they should be looking for girls who went through really late growth spurts."

Her partner grinned. "Exactly! I would be tempted to do the same, because that's a fantastic way to throw everyone off, but I think you might actually kill me if you started "growing" only for me to magic myself taller."

Ladybug's sharp nod made them both laugh.

"I've been thinking about doing a costume upgrade, too," Ladybug added once they had both calmed. She shrugged at Chat Noir's disbelieving look. "What? It's been years, and I have the world's most basic design, just because I panicked and blanked when I transformed the first time. And it would give the reporters something else to talk about other than 'did Ladybug suddenly get muscles?'"

"Well, if you decide you want to do that and want some help coming up with a new design, I have a friend in my civilian life who's a fantastic designer," Chat Noir told her, a fond grin spreading across his face. "I bet that she would be able to come up with some pretty great ideas."

"I think I can come up with my own ideas, thanks," Ladybug told him, and then scowled when a doubtful look flashed across his face. "Just I panicked once when I was thirteen and didn't think about what I wanted my transformation to look like doesn't mean that I can't think of good designs, Chat Noir!"

"Okay, okay, I believe you!" Chat Noir said with a laugh, holding his hands up in mock defense. Ladybug playfully pummeled them, and soon enough they were wrestling across the rooftops, Tikki's prank all but forgotten for the time being.

(Well. At least until the night's akuma showed up and laughed at Ladybug's diminutive height, that was.)

Ladybug's new outfit debuted a week later, black sections breaking up the red and black polka dots and a short open-front skirt- long enough to be decorative and look nice, short enough that it would be difficult for it to snag or have akumas grab on, so at least it wouldn't be impractical- a striking contrast to the simple onesie pattern that she had worn before. It made headlines, reporters and bloggers all too happy to talk about the changed design and how nice it looked and how well it suited Ladybug.

In fact, everyone was so caught up in the new design that it was three full months before the first person noticed and commented on the other new changes in Ladybug's appearance, both her apparent growth and the new muscles visible in her arms and along her legs. The internet promptly exploded with theories about it, wondering if the new costume was making illusions or if the changes were real. Doctors and fitness experts chimed in, adding their voices to the fray.

At home, Marinette just smiled as she turned away from the theories on the Ladyblog and back towards her latest commission work for Jagged Stone. None of the guesses were remotely close, of course, but when it came to things with her alter ego...

Well, that was just the way she liked it.

[hopelikethemoon]

Girl’s Night (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Girl’s Night  Rating: PG-13 Length: 3800 Warnings: Discussions about cancer, abusive parents, toxic family (illusions to racism and homophobia) Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in September 1998. gif by coredrive! If you’ve forgotten what Reader’s backstory is, you can find out more at the link above!  Summary: Reader has a girls night with Connie and Monica.

@grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale  @roxypeanut @snivellusim @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper @awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano @beskar-droids @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @frietiemeloen @arrowswithwifi @random066 @uncomicalhumour @heather-lynn @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl  @yabby-girl @xqueenofthecraziesx @punkass-potato @coredrive @pascalesque @theduchessofkirkcaldy @queenquazar @sabinemorans @buckstaposition @holkaskrosnou @yespolkadotkitty @fleetwoodmactshirt

You knew something had to be up. The girl’s night had been your idea, but Connie had seized on it without hesitation. Steve and Javier would watch the girls at your house — and play PlayStation — while you and Monica would come get wine drunk at the Murphy’s. 

Connie seemed to be in great spirits for most of the evening. Conversation mostly focused on how the girl’s were doing in school, where you saw your career going, and Connie complaining about working double shifts at the hospital.

And that was when the conversation veered in a different direction. 

Connie topped off her wine glass, only to chug it down like a champ. 

“Uh-oh.” You took a sip of your own wine, before sitting your glass aside. “Connie, what’s wrong?”

Just a week ago, Javier had assured you that things would be fine with them. Whatever their problem was, it wasn’t as serious as Connie feared that it was.

Monica looked warily between the two of you, “Should I be nervous?”

“Probably.” You shot back, before keeping your focus on Connie as she leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table. 

“Steve had a cancer scare.”

“Oh my God.” Monica covered her mouth.

You just stared, “Just a scare?”

She nodded, “It happened months ago. In May!” Connie pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes. “I’m so fucking mad at him I could spit. But I’m relieved. I just can’t believe he wouldn’t tell me.”

“Wait… rewind. When did you find out?”

“Monday.”

“Shit.” You frowned. “I’m gonna kick his ass into 2020.”

Connie laughed bitterly. “He didn’t want to scare me. That was his excuse at first.”

“At first?” Monica frowned. “Why is it such a man thing to hide shit from their partners? I don’t get it.”

“It’s all about their ego,” You explained. “What kind? I mean, Javier and Steve smoked like freight—“

“Testicular.” Connie answered bluntly and Monica choked. “I guess, in May he found a growth on his left testicle and—“

“Please spare me the details.” Monica groaned, sinking back in her chair. “I don’t want to hear about Steve’s testicles.”

You snorted quietly, trying to keep from laughing at Monica’s utterly scandalized expression. “But he didn’t tell you? I mean… that would explain the whole…” You gave Connie a look as you gestured vaguely. 

“Mhm. I’m just so pissed off.” Connie admitted. “He lied about a trip he took back in May. I can’t even believe it. He just lied! He went to Tampa to see a doctor outside of my hospital network so I wouldn’t… I don’t know. I don’t get his logic.”

“He’s a man. Don’t expect logic.” Monica pointed out. 

“She’s not wrong.” You shrugged. “But, holy shit. Why wouldn’t he just tell you?”

“My mother.”

Oh. Shit. 

Connie’s voice grew quieter, her eyes shining with tears. “After all of my struggles with pregnancy, after all the tests, the infertility treatments, after everything — she still blames Steve.” She lowered her gaze, quickly wiping a tear away. “And with her being with us most of the summer, Steve just… I guess, In his defense, he was afraid this would give her ammo.” 

“Connie, sweetie…” You rose from your seat and moved around the table to sit beside her. You wrapped your arms around her and pulled her to you, rubbing her back. 

“He lied. To my face. For months.” Connie mumbled, her voice muffled as she covered her face. “That’s why he couldn’t get it up. All summer, all my attempts to initiate and he was so stressed about lying that he couldn’t even perform.”

“I’m going to grab…” Monica looked around nervously. “Chips? Salsa? Something other than this conversation?”

Connie laughed, “I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t apologize.” Monica made a face. “I’m just gonna go sit and watch TV until this conversation is over.”

“I’ll call you when it’s over.” You assured her as Connie pulled back, sniffling and wiping tears away. “Did Steve tell you all of this on his own or…?”

“It was horrible.” Connie told you gravely. “I took your advice, I bought this really cute black teddy. I made us dinner, the girls were out of the house.”

“Fuck.” You grimaced, “Connie, I’m so…”

“Don’t.” She shook her head. “It made him finally admit to everything. Full-on nervous breakdown. I guess he hated how things had been because of this secret. It was bad. It was good. He cried, which… I haven’t seen him do in years.”

“Are you… I mean, are you guys okay or…” You almost didn’t want to know. Steve and Connie were such an ever present force in your lives. They had always had their rocky moments, but at the end of the day they always managed to find solid ground.

“I asked him to sleep in the guest room.” Connie admitted to you, pulling herself out of your embrace as she reached for the wine bottle and poured herself another glass.

“Do you mind telling me what happened?” You questioned lightly, reaching across the table to grab your discarded glass of wine, taking a short sip of the drink. 

Connie inhaled shakily, “Well… I had Monday night off so I arranged for the neighbours to watch the girls for us. Admittedly, Steve was a little anxious during dinner. In hindsight, I realize that he might’ve been… I think he was planning on telling me already.” She frowned, rubbing her thumb over the crease between her brows as she stared down at her wine glass. 

“I had no idea. If I had known the truth was something like this, I would not have encouraged you to try to romance him.” You wondered if Javier had known what was going on. He had to. He’d been so certain that things would be fine, so long as Steve talked to her. 

“It’s… probably for the best.” Connie shrugged her shoulders. “I mean, don’t get me wrong… I’m relieved that he doesn’t have cancer, but the way he went about it. I’ve never been so pissed at him.” 

“Not to play devil’s advocate, but…” You pursed your lips. “I know how much Steve hates your mother. I mean, I know it’s a mutual emotion, but… Can you really blame him for wanting to keep it quiet? Not for months, that’s… shitty. But you weren’t going to kick your mother out.” 

You knew both sides of the story of Connie’s mother — Ethel Gibson. You had met her a handful of times since moving to Miami and the picture Steve and Connie had painted hadn’t been far off the reality. She was a fiery woman, daughter of Irish immigrants, and forged by the coal mines of Appalachia. She was one of twelve children, mother to nine, and devoutly religious. She deeply resented Steve because he whisked Connie off the mountain without marrying her first. In fact, they hadn’t married until they moved to Miami after they’d both completed college. 

And in all those years, Ethel would’ve been fine with their sinful lifestyle, if Connie had only given her a grandchild. Just one. 

Last year, when Ethel came to visit, Connie had called you tears because her mother had cruelly told her that God had cursed them for living in sin for so many years. That they would never have real children because they had done everything wrong. 

Despite how toxic her mother was, Connie hadn’t quite figured out how to sever that connection. Ethel was useful during the summer, when everyone was working. But she was a hateful old hag. 

Connie swept another tear off her cheek as she turned to look at her, “I just can’t believe the lengths he went to hide this. A fake business trip, going outside of our insurance, and then months of making me feel like something was wrong.”

“Want me to kick his ass? Cause I will.” You smiled a little at her. “I mean, he did try to take care of your needs — right?”

She nodded her head slowly, “I do get it.” Connie chewed on her bottom lip as she ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass. “I just hate how he went about this. I could’ve been there for him. I mean how would you feel if Javier pulled this shit?”

“There would be a surreptitious rose bush in the backyard.” You answered without hesitation. “Maybe a new concrete patio.”

“Exactly!” Connie shook her head then. “I don’t want to stay mad at him. I really do get why he did it. If my mother caught wind that he had something wrong with his testicles, it would just further fuel her hatred for him. It would be his fault that I’m… barren.”

You reached over and squeezed her hand. “You’re an amazing mother to two little girls who think the world of you, Connie. Olivia and Emily love you both, no differently than my girls love us.” 

“I know. I know.” She squeezes your hand back. “I can’t believe I let her convince me that Steve was cheating! And the reality was that he just couldn’t get it up because he had been lying to me.”

“I think you should let him out of the doghouse. Maybe not tonight since you are teetering on the edge of being white girl wasted when he gets home.” You sat the bottle of wine of her reach. “But I think he punished himself all summer.”

“I agree.” Connie gave you a look. “He said Javier was pretty pissed off at him for how he handled things.”

“Javier knew?” You glowered. “I guess the boys are allowed to keep some secrets.” That was going to be a discussion you had with Javier when you got home. 

Connie wiped at her eyes again, sinking back into her chair with a heavy sigh. “I spent all summer thinking something was wrong with me. All summer! I just couldn’t figure out why everything felt fine, but he… It’s so stupid. I’m so pissed off that he put me through this, but equally pissed that I get it.” 

“I know this isn’t an easy conversation to have,” You started cautiously, chewing on your thumbnail as you stared at Connie. “But I think it might be time to cut your mother off.” 

Connie started to cry again and your heart clenched as you watched her break down beside you. 

“Alright, come on. Get up. We’re gonna go into the family room with Monica and have this conversation.” You urged, giving her arm a squeeze as you encouraged her to get up out of her chair. “No more wine.” 

“You’re no fun.” 

“I get it from Javi.” You shot back, guiding Connie into the family room. 

“Are we done talking about Steve’s balls?” Monica questioned, brows drawn together as she met your eyes. “Shit, Connie. Are you okay?”

“Some tough love is about to happen.” You told her flatly as Connie sat down in the middle of the sofa, you and Monica on either side. 

Monica scooted closer and gave Connie’s shoulder a squeeze, “Do I need to get the wine?” 

“No,” Connie shook her head. “No, she was right. I need to stop. Getting drunk isn’t going… It’s just hard.”

You tucked your legs beneath you, turning on the sofa to face Connie. “I know.” You rubbed your lips together as you mulled over what the right words to say were. Turning your back on a parent was difficult — no matter how terrible they were. But sometimes, it had to be done. Especially when it’s a detriment to your own wellbeing. Or, in this case, your relationship. It was time to cut the ties. “How long have you and Steve been together?”

Connie brought her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as she rested her chin on her knees. “Twenty-two years.” 

“In those twenty-two years, has Ethel ever said anything kind towards her son-in-law?”

She shook her head, “Unless you consider the handful of times she’s complimented him on his hair cut.”

“Well, that’s weird.” Monica laughed. “Is that the only nice thing she has to say?”

Connie rolled her eyes, “Most likely. She’s never liked him.” 

“We could always start a girl gang of women who hate their parents.” Monica suggested, which made Connie laugh. “I’m serious. Nadia makes these really cool pins.” She leaned over the side of the sofa, grabbing her jean jacket and showing off the pins on her lapel. 

“I might just take you up on that.” Connie quipped, before she leaned against you with a dramatic sigh. “I can’t believe Steve felt like he needed to hide a cancer prognosis, out of fear of my mother. If he had just told me… I would’ve stood by him. I wouldn’t have let her use it.” 

“It doesn’t matter.” Monica pointed out, “Even if you stand up to them, they’re not going to change. They’ll always find a way to cut you down.” She shook her head slowly, “My parents always suspected I was queer. It’s why they hit me. But when I was in high school, I convinced a friend of mine — he was so nice — to date me. Just to try to control the situation.” She wrapped her arms around her waist, lips drawn thin as she spoke. “But that wasn’t good enough for them. He wasn’t good for me. He wasn’t who they wanted me with. It was all about control.” 

“You know my history,” You told Connie with a heavy sigh. “If I hadn’t cut her off, I wouldn’t be where I am today.” 

Connie nodded her head, “You’re both right.” She wiped at her cheeks, exhaling shakily. “She never wanted me to leave the hollow. She wanted me to live the same life she did. In a tiny house, married to some coal miner or a long-distance truck driver. Miserable and bitter like her.” 

“She wanted to control you.” Monica stated. 

“She acted like she was going to die when I told her I was leaving with Steve,” Connie recalled. “He got into college — just on the other side of the mountain. Less than a day’s drive in good weather. We’d only been dating for a couple months, but he knew I hated it there. I felt like shit for weeks because my mother acted like she was just going to lay down and die because I’d betrayed her. But I wanted more. I wanted to go to school for nursing. I wanted to live in a real town and not the side of a mountain. She’s never forgiven me for that.” 

“I’ll punch her in the face if you want me to.” You remarked with a short laugh. “I’ve been wanting to since she made you cry last year. She’s a bitch and frankly, we both know what her real issue is with the girls.”

Monica gave you a look, “It was painfully obvious.” 

“And look, you don’t have to make it a big deal.” You reminded Connie. “You keep contact limited. You can send Christmas cards and birthday cards — but you don’t make time to call her. You don’t welcome her into your home and you don’t visit her. If you want another twenty-two years with Steve, that’s just how it’s going to have to be.”

“I know.”  She sank back against the sofa, looking up at the ceiling. “I hate this. I really do. She has always been a thorn in the side of our marriage the entire time. I feel so bad for Steve. He’s never said a mean thing to her or about her.” 

“Steve’s a saint, but he’s not off the hook for lying to you.” You reminded her. “But go easy on him. He didn’t do it maliciously.” 

“I think… I’m going to call him.” Connie scooted to the edge of the sofa. “Are you both good to go home?”

“I just have to call a cab.” 

Monica checked her watch, “Nadia can be here in like fifteen to pick me up.” 

“Thank you both.” Connie slung her arms around both of you, pulling you towards her. “I really needed this. I really needed this.” 

“I’m just glad you and Steve are going to be okay.”

She nodded, “And we will be. We will.” 

You felt terrible for them. But relationships had ups and downs. It was just important that you came out on the ups, rather than the downs. 

———

 “So you knew about Steve’s balls.” You stated as you rolled onto your side towards Javier. The bedroom was dark, but you could almost imagine his expression just from the huff he let out. “Well?”

“Interesting choice of pillow talk.” Javier remarked as he rolled onto his back, reaching out beneath the covers to grab your leg. He gave it a squeeze, sighing heavily. “Yeah, he told me at the bar last week.”

“So you just found out.” 

“Yeah.” He rubbed his thumb over your skin. “I hear he’s sleeping in the guest room. I told him he fucked up. Lying to her for how many months?”

You reached down and rested your hand over his, “I think she’ll let him back in her bed tonight. We talked it through.” 

“And the prognosis?”

“He fucked up by lying, but she recognized that he was just trying to keep the peace.” 

“He’s scared shitless, baby.” Javier told you. “I’ve never seen him so on edge before. She blew up Monday night.” 

“Well, she didn’t know what she was in for. She cooked dinner, bought a fancy teddy, and…”

“He regrets the ‘I need to talk’ shit he pulled.” 

“He should!” You shook your head, squeezing his hand. “He is such a sweetheart, but he’s as smart as a box of rocks sometimes.” 

Javier chuckled, “What can you expect? He shoots skeet. For fun.” 

You snorted, “He’s deeply flawed.” 

“You think they’re gonna figure things out?”

“I hope so.” You shifted closer to him, draping your arm over his chest as you rested your cheek on his shoulder. “She’s gonna cut off her mom.” 

“Fuck Ethel.” 

“Seriously.” You curled your leg around his, resting it in between his thighs. Trying to get closer to him. “I feel bad for both of them, honestly. I understand why Steve did what he did, but… He shouldn’t have left Connie in the dark for so long.”

“I don’t think he planned to,” Javier admitted, running his hand over your forearm. “For what it’s worth, Steve told me he had planned to tell her once he found out whether he had cancer or not. One of the girls got sick — remember the stomach flu that went around? Connie was stressed, he’d just come back from his trip, and he put it off. Then Ethel came and…”

“Now it’s September.” You added, lifting your hand up to cup his cheek. “If you ever think you’re sick… please tell me.” 

Javier tilted his head and brushed his lips against yours. “I’d want you right there beside me, baby. I don’t know how Steve managed to get himself up to Tampa and let them remove his whole fucking testicle.” 

“They removed the whole thing?” You gaped at that. “Connie acted like it was just a biopsy. Holy shit, no wonder he hasn’t wanted to have sex!” 

“Yeah, it’s a whole… thing.” Javier snorted. “I’ve heard more about Murphy’s balls than I ever wanted to.”

“Monica was scandalized by our discussion on Steve’s balls.” 

“That poor child.” Javier chuckled. “Did she have fun?”

“She bragged about how excited she was for your Social Policy Analysis class.” 

“I think she’s the only one excited about it,” He sounded quite pleased with that. “Everyone else was grumbling about having to turn in a two-hundred page policy.” 

“That class is only going to be fun because of me.” You pointed out. “Which one of us secured City Hall for your class?” You couldn’t wait to hear Monica get up at a council meeting and argue for her policy reform. 

Javier snorted, “When are you gonna start teaching yourself, baby?”

You traced your finger over his nose in the darkness, “Next semester.” 

“Wait, really?”

“I haven’t turned anything in yet, but… I think I’m going to do it. Honestly, I miss working with you.” You admitted. “I’ll still help Steve, as promised… But, I’ve had so much fun helping you with the Policy class.” 

Javier curled his arm around you and pulled you into his chest as he rolled onto his side. “Best fucking news I’ve had all week.” 

You laughed quietly, nuzzling into his throat. “I thought you’d be happy about it.” 

“My office is plenty big enough for you to set up your own desk in there.” 

“I can’t sit on your lap?” You laughed as you pressed kisses along his neck. “Damn.” 

He gave your ass a playfully squeeze, “Only when the door’s shut.” 

You were seconds away from sliding your hand down between your bodies when you heard the creak of your bedroom door and the quietest little voice whispering. 

“Mommy? Daddy?”

Javier sighed quietly as he released his hold on you, rolling over and turning the bedside light on. “Hey, princesa. What’s up?”

“I had a nightmare.” Josie said quietly, rubbing at her eyes.

“Well, what are you doing over here?” You questioned, “Come here, baby girl. Get in bed with us.” 

Josie didn’t need to be told twice, she pushed the bedroom door shut behind her and bounded her way onto the bed with you. Javier picked her up, despite his bad shoulder, tossing her up in the air a little before settling her down on the bed between the two of you. 

“What was the bad dream, sweetheart?” He questioned. 

“I was all alone!” Josie said, quite dramatically, clinging to your hand. “It was dark and scary… And there were these creepy sounds and… a witch cackling!” 

“Did you leave your Halloween sounds cassette on?”

“Maybe.” Josie said innocently. 

“Babydoll, you can’t listen to those at night.” 

“Uncle Steve wanted to hear them before he left! He thought they were funny.”

You rolled your eyes, “Then we’ll just have to bill Uncle Steve for the nightmare tax.” 

“The nightmare tax?” Josie questioned, wide-eyed as she looked up at her father. 

Javier nodded his head, “The nightmare tax. Now Uncle Steve will have the nightmares and you won’t.” 

“I bet he’s having nightmares tonight.” You interjected with a wry laugh. 

“Oh.” Josie hummed thoughtfully. “So I won’t have anymore bad dreams?”

“Well, surely not with your big strong daddy here to scare away the bad dream monsters.” You remarked, reaching around behind Josie’s head so you could play your fingers through Javier’s hair. “We’ve got you kiddo, don’t worry.” 

“I love you mommy.” Josie said, rolling over and clinging to you.

You wrapped your arm around her and kissed the top of her head. “I’ve got you, babydoll.” 

“Lights out?”

“Lights out!” Josie cheered.

Javier shut off the light, rolling onto his side and draping his arm across Josie and you. He curled his hand around your hip, his thumb rubbing a small circle there. “Good night.” He whispered in the darkness. 

“Nighty-night daddy.” 

[janicho88]

In This Together

                                             Pic originally posted by jrackles                               

Pairing- Dean x Wife!Reader

Word count-9825

Summary-The reader hasn’t been feeling well and is afraid to go to a doctor, because of her medical history.  One thing seems to lead to another, but she has her husband Dean to lean on. This is AU

Warnings- Sick reader, Little bit of language, A little angst, and maybe a little fluff, slight implied smut. Possible triggers talks of multiple surgeries some are a little descriptive, talk of possible loss of fertility, female problems.

 A/N This is my first fic I have finished.  I have had some things going on, I needed someone like Dean, this was the closest I could get to having him. It is unbeta’d all mistakes are mine.  @winchest09 and @katehuntington​ you two are absolutely amazing!! Without you two, your virtual lockdowns and the people I met because of them, I never would have had the confidence to finish this let alone post it. Thank you! 

You sighed as you rolled over in bed, time to get up and start another day.  Although you were hoping today was different. You were hoping the pain you had been having which couldn’t decide whether or not it wanted to be in your side or abdomen would actually be gone.  Something that had just been in your head.   You had felt a kind of off for the last 2 weeks but had kept that to yourself.

“Morning Sweetheart,” came from your husband of four years, as Dean walked back in your room fresh from the shower. A quick kiss good morning before he finished getting dressed and you headed to get yourself ready in the bathroom.  Soon you were both out the door and off to work.  Dean was a partner in his father’s mechanic business. It was doing well for him; he’d even added on auto parts store next door.  You were running your family’s restaurants, your parents slowly cutting back on their day to day involvement, but not leaving entirely yet because you were going to need their help in the new year.

You enjoyed your mornings at work, for the first few hours it was just you preparing things for the day, your radio playing softly your only companion. It wasn’t long before your daytime employees came in and the lunch rush began you all working as a team everything going smoothly today. It was while working on clean up and the dinner prep, one of your workers, and your friend, Donna found you in a back corner with your hands on your right side. When she asked what was going on, you told her you were fine and went to finish the task you were working on. Before she left Donna passed by your office where she saw you inside with a look of pain on your face again, your ringing phone interrupted her from saying anything to you then.

Dean beat you home from work and was preparing hamburgers to grill when you walked in.  You set your things down and met him in the kitchen for a kiss, “Hey Babe, how was your day?”

“Good.  The new guy, Gabe, I was telling you about should work out well, might be a little bit of a smart ass.  Benny seems to have taken him under his wing to show him the ropes. Those two will be interesting together.  How were things at the restaurant today?”

“That’s great! I know with your Dad, and Bobby cutting back their time there you wanted at least one more person in.  Work was fine, late lunch and steady afternoon which is why I’m later getting home.”

“How’s the foot doing? You’ve been on it more with working longer hours lately.”

“Okay, as good as it’s going to be for now.”

You two enjoyed a quiet dinner, then curled up on the couch to watch a movie before heading to bed. Dean noticed you didn’t eat much of your dinner, but he figured you were either tired or grabbed a snack at the restaurant.  

Your next morning started off about the same both of you on your separate ways to work. It was afternoon when Donna saw you again with a grimace on your face and a hand on your side. A little while later she saw your running to the restroom where you threw up.

“Alright, spill Y/N. What is going on, you’ve been a little off lately?”

“Donna, I’m fine.”

“Bull, lady.  Do I need to call Dean and ask him?”

“NO!” Your head went back, and your eyes closed as you thought about what you were going to say. You went with the truth, maybe she would tell you what you were hoping, it was nothing.  “I’ve been having a sharp pain in my right side, sometimes it moves to the front and is in my abdomen.  Every once in while it might go lower.  It’s probably just a sore muscle or maybe the ulcer is coming back”  

“And the upset stomach?”

“That’s new-ish. This is nothing, I’m fine.  It can’t be anything.” You almost whispered.

“You should probably talk to your Dr.  Maybe your OB first, given your history.  That’s what your worried about right?”

With tears in your eyes you gave a soft yes.

“Call them, and then talk to Dean.  Knowing you, you haven’t said anything to him, and were going to keep pretending nothing was happening.”

You walked away to call for an appointment.  Donna was right, you were scared, and you hadn’t told Dean.  You didn’t want to go through this again.  Around year and half ago you were at a girls day out when you just didn’t feel right.  You attributed it to worry you had about something at work.  It didn’t go away and over the next two weeks things got worse. You weren’t hungry, you had a sharp pain in your side, had started burping and not been able to stop it.  That one bothered you the most.   Then you started getting sick.  Overall, you just didn’t feel well.  You figured it was early February now, you just had a good old-fashioned winter cold. When you suddenly had trouble drawing a deep breath and it hurt to breathe, you had gone to a walk-in-clinic.  They thought it was your appendix or gallbladder and sent you to your primary Doctor the next day.  They agreed and sent you to a CT Scan the next day.  Dean went with that morning and waited while you went back for the test. You were told your doctor would have to results in a few days while they were getting the test started.  When they finished the scan, they told you to stay on the table they had a radiologist coming to read the scan right then.  That hadn’t done much for your nerves.  They told you something about a mass on your ovary and kids still being possible, but you needed to see your OB asap.  You had walked back out to Dean in the waiting room in shock, not 100% sure what had happened in the last few minutes.  You had ended up having a cyst on an ovary, which had destroyed that ovary and continued to grow into what your doctor called a giant mass. It had gotten so big it was pushing on your other organs.  They had to go in and take it out.  You were getting to the point you were okay with that part, but the doctor kept talking, and you kept squeezing Dean’s hand harder.  They couldn’t see the uterus around the mass and didn’t know if it had damage or the other ovary, and there was a possibility it was cancerous.  Suddenly the kids you and Dean had been talking about and picturing, might only ever be that, talk.  You had been a wreck the morning of surgery, but Dean was in pre-op with you as long as he could be holding your hand telling you everything was going to be fine. It didn’t matter what happened with the surgery.  If it was just the two of you, or if you ended up adopting. You were in this together. He loved you and the two of you would be just fine.  The surgery had gone well.  They only had to take the mass out and the tests came back cancer free.  

Things between you and Dean were good.  The last year and half had been crazy, no kids yet, although that wasn’t due to lack of trying in the beginning.  The December after your surgery you had ended up with a stomach ulcer and they found a fibroid on your uterus.  You really couldn’t catch a break.  Your doctor had wanted to put you on birth control to slow down the growth for now.  Here you were, once again worried that you wouldn’t be able to give Dean the baby you knew he wanted. His brother Sam, and his wife Jess had had their first child a few months prior and Dean was the loving uncle.  Holding little Jake, he could calm him down faster than anyone but Jess. He spent a bit of time telling him all about Baby, and the things he would teach him when he was older.  You were fairly certain he might get that boy in trouble with a few things, but that could be dealt with in a few years.  You knew Dean was hoping for the day he would be holding his own baby, and teaching them, you were afraid you were never going to be able to give him that.  

You were sitting on the couch when Dean came home from work.

“Hey Sweetheart, how was your day?”

“Fine, how were things at the shop?”

“Good, busy. Dinner smells great.”

“Thanks, it’s got about a half hour till it’s done.  I know you want to shower, but can I talk to you first?”

“Always.”

Dean joined you on the couch as you started explaining.  “So I’ve been feeling kind of off lately, not quite right.  Pain in my side and abdomen.  The last few days throwing up if I ate and drank much.  It’s a bit like before.”

Dean moved closer and held you as he asked, “Are you thinking you have another mass, the fibroid, or something else?”

“I don’t know, and that scares me.  I want it to be nothing, but we both know my luck isn’t that good.  I have an appointment next Wednesday with my OB/GYN. I figured it would cut some of the middle wait time out.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“Thanks, but I think I will be ok alone with this first visit.”

“Wait, don’t you have your foot appointment that day?”

“Yes, but it’s in the morning.”

Wednesday your appointments finally arrived.  You had been having trouble with your foot for a few years now, it had gotten so bad you couldn’t even wear a tennis shoe anymore.  You actually were supposed to have surgery on it a few years ago, the same year you had found the mass and had to have that removed instead.  It was a pretty simple appointment; they did updated x-rays since you hadn’t had any in over a year and talked again with the surgeon about what surgery would entail.  He was a foot and ankle specialist at the University hospital.  This was going to be your third foot/ankle related surgery but the first on your right foot.  You had had different doctors each time, and you like this one the best.  He was extremely knowledgeable and easy to talk to.  You may have been nervous for this surgery, but that was because of everything it was going to involve.  You were born with as the doctors called them extremely high arches.  It had caused you a number of problems over the years, sprained ankles, multiply breaks, and your two other surgeries.  They were going to go in and break your fifth metatarsal and put a plate in there and realign it, cut the Achilles tendon and lengthen it, you had tears in the Peroneal tendon which had to be fixed and then attached to the Brevis tendon to strengthen it, ligaments on the inside and outside of the foot needed to be tightened or loosened depending on the side.  You had had all of that done nine years ago on your other foot, but because of problems you had with that first surgery they were taking it a step further. They were going to cut the bones in your heel and realign them.  That part was making you the most nervous.  You would be spending the 3 months following surgery on crutches, possibly longer.  You had spent enough time on them over the years, you were pretty good on them at least. You had been planning on the surgery happening in January, you couldn’t put it off any longer.

The worst part of all this has been the not knowing because your mind is great at making up worst case scenarios, you were a bit worked up for your afternoon OB appointment.  You and your doctor talked and going over your symptoms he was sending you for a CT scan the following week because he thought you might have a kidney stone based on some of your symptoms. He also ordered an ultrasound to check on the fibroid. They don’t do anything with fibroids until they are over 4 cm and causing problems.  When yours was found it was at 3.3 cm, so they had just put you on birth control.  The doctor talked about what could happen if it was the fibroid.  You might need surgery to remove it, if it was to big, they might have to take the uterus out or there were shots out that put you in menopause for a while.  You were due back in his office in two and half weeks to go over the tests.  More waiting, just great.

Dean had dinner waiting for you when you got home. You explained the tests the doctor wanted and what he told you he was thinking.  You never thought you would be in a spot where kidney stones were an option you were hoping for. You two spent the evening on the couch watching movies compromising on your choices. Since Halloween was coming soon Dean wanted a horror movie, you agreed if you watched that one first and ended your night with The Proposal.  That way your mind wasn’t on a horror movie just before bed.

The next week went fairly quickly and your tests were done you were just waiting on follow up. You and Dean both busy at work during the days.  You had lost a manager, you mom had been taking on a lot of caterings which kept her out of the store, and Donna couldn’t pick up more hours because she was taking care of her sister, Jody’s daughters at night.  All this meant you were working open to close three to four days a week and at least 8 hours the other days.  You would get home at night and not want to move from your couch.  Friday morning you were doing your prep work when you received a call from your doctor’s office.  They had both of your results in. They didn’t find kidney stones; the fibroid had doubled in size and there was a mass on your remaining ovary.  Your follow-up appointment with them was 10 days away, but they wanted to see you as soon as you could come in the next day they were open, which was Tuesday.  The last surgery you needed was like that, everything done asap.  You had found out about the mass and a week later you were in surgery.

You hung up with them and called Dean in tears.  Your mind automatically going through worse case scenarios.  He did his best to calm you down and tell you everything would be okay. You two were going to be alright. You called your mom when you hung up from Dean and filled her in on your results. Making yourself get back to work.

Being a Friday, you had a busy lunch rush and had a bit of clean up and more prep work to get ready for the dinner rush.  You were working in the back when the door buzzer went off notifying you of someone coming in.  Donna called you to the front saying a customer needed your help.  The first genuine smile you had all day coming to your face as you took in Dean standing there with a bunch of colorful flowers.  

“Oh Dean, they’re beautiful! Thank you!”

“Not half as beautiful as you Y/N, how are you holding up sweetheart?”    

“I’ve been better. It’s going to be a long weekend waiting to see what he has to say.  My mom talked to my cousin who does some work at the hospital, a friend of hers works for an OB/GYN who has been around awhile and is the only one in town who does this surgery robotically.  I have an appointment with him next week also for his opinion.”

“It’s all going to work out, no matter what it’s you and me together.  I have to get back to work and I know you do to, I just wanted to stop in and see how you were doing.”

“Thank you, Baby, I appreciate it so much.  I love you.”

“Love you too Sweetheart.  I will see you at home tonight”

When you weren’t at work, you and Dean hung out at home over the weekend.  He did his best to take his mind off of your upcoming appointment.  You greatly appreciated his effort.  Before you knew it, Tuesday afternoon rolled around.  This time dean accompanied you to the appointment.  The doctor explained that the fibroid was now at 6.7cm and was what was causing your problems.  He was really pushing these shots you take once a month that put you in menopause for six months. He told you that it would shrink the fibroid, and that would be best to start with.  The other options he was giving you were waiting and getting another ultrasound end of December/early January and coming back then or go in and do surgery sometime. You weren’t sure how you felt about either of those options but were glad he wasn’t going in right away to take out the uterus.  What did frustrate you the most, was how the call on Friday made it sound like things were worse and you needed to come in asap for something to be done, and the doctor wasn’t doing anything right now.

You and Dean both felt a little calmer when you left the office.  “What are you thinking about your options, Darling?”

“Honestly, I’m not so sure about those shots, I would need a lot more information on them first. The whole being put into menopause has me nervous.  That’s not something I ever thought I would be thinking about at 31.  When I talked to the nurse on the phone Friday she made this seem so much worse, and he’s not doing anything other than the shots now. I guess we’ll see what the other doctor says tomorrow.”

The next morning you and Dean were at the other doctor’s office.  New patient paperwork all filled out and you were waiting to go back. Your cousin’s friend called your name and took you back.  She had been talking to your mom, so she knew what was going on and had shared it with the doctor.  You asked her opinion on the shots, and she just shook her head.  She told you there wasn’t any guarantee it would even work, and there was a lot of risk with what going into menopause could do to you and your chance of having a child.  You would have to sign a number of documents that said you didn’t hold that company responsible for any of the large number of side effects.

“I wasn’t sold on them before, I’m really not know” you told her and Dean.

The doctor came in shortly after and did quick exam.  You had asked his opinion on what to do, he said taking it out would be the best thing to try and preserve the uterus and a chance for you to have children in the future. Yes, you could have a child with a fibroid on the uterus, but as big as it was it could cause problems. It didn’t end up being a long appointment because he was called away for a birth. He did order 2 tests and you set those up before leaving.  One was another ultrasound to check where the fibroid was and if that would cause any problems itself. The other was to check the uterus for any cancer spots, they did warn you that one could be painful, and you weren’t going to want to do much after the test was done. You had those both scheduled for the following Tuesday and Wednesday.

As you walked out to your cars you asked Dean “What did you think of him, and everything said?”

“They are both pretty against the shots, and I know you didn’t really like the idea of them either. You cousin said he has more experience, right?”

“Yes, he does. I’ve talked to a few others that know him, and they all like him.  Donna’s aunt was an OB and she referred patients to him if it was something she couldn’t do.”

“Ultimately Y/N, it comes down to what you think, and what you want to do.  We can talk more at home on your thoughts and see what these tests say.  I will support your decision no matter what.”

“Thank you, Babe. I love you.  Have a great day at work.”

“I love you too. I hope you have a great one as well.”

You were talking to Donna at work about everything that you had found out.  She had spent a little time working in her aunt’s office and at one point had been premed in school, you valued her opinion.

“You need to get it taken out girly, it’s already grown a lot on you.  I know how much you and Dean want kids.  If you wait too long you run the risk of losing that chance.”

“Part of me knows that, but the other part of me is worried about what is going to happen during surgery.”

“That’s understandable, any surgery there is a risk.  This doctor has done thousands of these, you’ll be fine, most importantly you’ll be better. Don’t ignore this, Dean and you can adopt if you can’t have kids, Dean won’t be fine if he loses you.  Don’t do those shots, there is a lot of risk with those, and you could run into even more problems.”

“Those shots are pretty much off the table, I really don’t like the idea of them.  I know your right, a part of me just really doesn’t want more surgery.  The last week the pain has gotten worse so I don’t know that I can put this off.”

“I know Sweetie, surgery makes anyone nervous.  This will all work out.”

“Thanks, Donna, you are an amazing friend.”

After dinner that night you and Dean were sitting in the living room and you decided you weren’t going to think about any medical issues.  While he had the game on you grabbed your computer and recipe binder. Settling next to Dean on the couch you pulled up Pinterest and Christmas recipe ideas. You had been scrolling for a few minutes when Dean looked over at your screen.

“What are you looking up Christmas for?”

“Mom and Dad’s Christmas party is a month from tomorrow, and I need to get my baking list around.”

“What do you mean a month away, that’s before Thanksgiving?”

“With Thanksgiving being so late this year, they are doing it the Saturday before.  That way it has less chance running into other Holiday parties.  You don’t want to do it Thanksgiving weekend, and then there are only three other weekends before Christmas and there will be a bit going on.  So I need to figure out what’s on my baking list this year, what’s staying, what I’m adding.”

“It’s too early to talk Christmas.”

“Hallmark starts Christmas movies this weekend, Saturday has some of my favorites we can watch after work!”    

“It’s not even Halloween Y/N, I’m not watching Christmas movies!” Dean threw his head back against the couch turning slightly to glare at you.

“You say that now, we’ll see what happens when I get that remote,” you smirked.  “I could happily watch them year-round.”

“Ehh, your getting better with that.  You used to be into Christmas songs and movies 361, the couple days leading up to Christmas Eve and sometimes that morning you were a little bah humbug saying you were done with all of it.  Then the day after Christmas you start singing Frosty again.”

You just glared at him for a minute, “It was the stress, and trying to get everything just right and make everyone happy.  My shopping will be done, before 2 days before Christmas this year.  I’m going to enjoy it, no stress.”

“Sure thing, Sweetheart, whatever you say.  We’ll see how you are on December 23rd.”

“Going back to the Holiday of the month we are actually in, Sam wanted to know if we wanted to come over Thursday night.  See Jake in his first Halloween costume, hand out candy to the Trick-or-Treaters.  Mom and dad are going to be there too.”

“Sure I’m in. It’s usually a busy night for us so I will be over after I can leave work.”

“Okay so we have my usual baking items: Sugar cookies I  think I’m going to keep it simple and just do drop cookies instead of cut outs, buckeyes, peanut butter blossoms, no bakes, petit-fours, truffles, cranberry bars and the varieties of chocolates those I’ll make with mom. Now I need to figure out some new ones. Hey what do you think about, hey, where are you going?”

“I need a beer if we are going to talk about your crazy Christmas baking list.”

You waited for Dean to settle back next to you to show him your finds.

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/174584923042596801/

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/174584923042596805/

“You’re on a Grinch kick this year aren’t you? You mentioned a few weeks ago you wanted a Grinch sweatshirt this year.”

“Maybe, part of me is. Anyways thoughts? What about these?” https://www.pinterest.com/pin/174584923042556919/

“Ooohhhh, Do you think I could make these?” https://www.pinterest.com/pin/174584923040748115/

“We aren’t going to be using our kitchen to make actual food anytime soon are we?  I love you and you are very talented when it comes to your baking but I don’t know if you have the patience for those cupcakes.”

“You’re probably right, it does tend to run thinner when I’m trying to get all this stuff done. Look on the bright side, the party is early this year so I will have the kitchen back to normal sooner.”

“Sureee you will.”

You weren’t going to admit it to Dean right now, but you were trying to force yourself into the Holiday spirit. With everything going on you weren’t sure you were going to be in the celebrating mood this year.  You knew how much he loved the Holiday, and the time with family together. You would put on a happy face for him.

Dean took you to your appointment Tuesday afternoon, because they didn’t recommend driving after since you were going to be in a bit of pain.  It wasn’t even a five minute test to go take a swab of the uterus lining to send in to check for abnormal or cancer cells. They were right though, you definitely hurt after.  You and Dean picked up food on the way home so neither of you would have to cook or clean up. He got you situated on the couch with a heating pad after you got home. You two spent another quiet night in.  The next afternoon you took yourself to your ultrasound.  The results for both tests would be back in time for your appointment the following Tuesday.  

Thursday was Halloween, and you were short handed at work again, but not as busy as you were expecting to be.  You left around 7 and headed over to Sam and Jess’ house.  5-month-old Jake was dressed up in a cute duck onesie.  After saying hi to the couple, your husband, and his parents you grabbed some food and settled down with Jake.  You were told you just missed Cas, his wife Kelly, and their son Jack. The one year old getting cranky and ready for bed.  Jess and Mary joined you shortly.  The guys were watching one of the All Saint’s Day movies.  Apparently having a little one to get excited about put Sam in a better Halloween mood then he usually was in.  Mary asked how you were doing; Dean had apparently told her a few days before and Jess had just found out tonight.

“I’m alright, it’s been going on over a month and I think at this point I want a plan.  I want to know what’s going to happen.  But I want to make sure that we decide on the right course of action too.”

Both ladies assured you they thought you would be fine, and that everything would work out for you. Your attention turning to the little boy on the floor in front of you.

You spent your weekend working and had started some grocery shopping for you baking supplies.  Those supplies then found a home on your kitchen counter.  So Dean was right, he was slowing losing the kitchen for a little while.

Tuesday afternoon saw you and Dean back in your new doctor’s office waiting to be called back.  It wasn’t a long wait and you headed back. Thankful your tests had come back normal and the new ultrasound didn’t show any new problems.  Because of the last surgery you had there was to much scar tissue in your abdomen for the surgery to be done robotically, and the fibroid was too big.  You did have the option for another procedure, he described it as resetting your uterus.  He did tell you it wouldn’t do anything for the fibroid, but it could get your periods back under control and might lesson some pain, you would need a few days off work. The best chance you had if you wanted to get pregnant sometime was to have the fibroid removed.  Now you just needed to make a decision on what you were going to do.  You were leaning toward surgery and when you didn’t make a definitive decision the doctor told you to come back in 2 weeks.  When you were checking out and scheduling the next appointment you asked how far out the wait for surgery was. His calendar was filling up and he only had December 9th and 23rd open.

On your way home you and Dean talked about what you both were thinking.  You told him you were leaning toward surgery, and he also thought that would be your best choice.  Now you just weren’t sure you really wanted to wait.  If you called your first doctor, he could do the surgery in two weeks, he just had to wait for insurance purposes.  Honestly, he was never busy. That put you the day before your parents Christmas party or waiting till the next weekend which was the day after Thanksgiving.  Another problem you had was making sure you had help at work. Right now, you didn’t have the help to do it.  If you pushed it too far into December it was going to be a problem with your foot surgery.  They had said with your stomach because they were cutting it open you would need to be careful not to tear your stitches for a few weeks and be limited for 6 weeks with what you could do. Crutches weren’t going to be a good thing to mix in.  

Your parents, you and Dean all talked.  You didn’t have the help to do the surgery in November, December wasn’t a good idea because of your next surgery.  You decided if the doctor thought you could wait you would do the foot surgery in January and then six weeks later when you should be able to start putting some pressure on your foot you would have the other.  That way the six weeks you needed to be careful with the second surgery would be ending in time for therapy in May.  Work was going to be getting better help wise because you were selling on of your locations.  The gas station next door to one of them wanted to expand and the only way they could was if they bought your property.  That deal was supposed to close first of January. Your foot surgery was scheduled for the 16th.  Things seemed to fall in to place for that all to work out.

You still weren’t feeling the best, but you were glad to have noticed you didn’t have the pain in your side and stomach every day anymore.  It had turned into just having really bad periods every few weeks.

When you went to your appointment two weeks later you went alone and talked to the doctor about your thoughts and timeline. He didn’t think that would be a problem, telling you before he left that removing it was your best option.  They weren’t’ scheduling yet for February or March so they would call you when those books opened.

If you were honest, you were feeling better with what you had decided on.  Also, the fact that no one was worried enough to say you had to get in right now for surgery.  You were still going to worry between now and surgery it was just who you were.  

It was the third week of November, your new focus on the upcoming Holidays.  You had already started your baking, freezing everything once it was made cooled and put in an airtight container. The list was still shorter this year it only had about 15 things on it.  You didn’t get the Grinch recipes made, or the snow globe cupcakes, but you did make the thumb print snowmen. Next year.  Two days before the party you moved on from baking to getting the food you were doing around.  In between all this also trying to help your mom decorate their house and putting decorations up at yours.  You didn’t end up doing as much to your house as you usually would, but just less to take down after and you knew things would be crazy then.  

The day of the party both you and your mom ended up being stuck at work longer than you were supposed to be.  This meant you had to work quicker when you got home.  Dean went to your parents with you to help with the last minute set up. It was nice living on the same street as them, so you didn’t have far to go.  With the final cleaning finished you were in the kitchen with Dean starting to get food around while your mom ran upstairs to shower.  Your brother and his girlfriend coming shortly after.  They had been dating for almost a year, but she didn’t come around much, so you didn’t know her well.  Trying to ask her questions about herself didn’t get you very far because she only gave one-word answers.  You looked to Dean and he just shrugged his shoulders, not knowing how to get much out of her either.  When your mom came back down, and the food was in good shape you and dean went home to get ready and get the desserts.

You always enjoyed this party it was family from both of your parent’s sides, Dean’s family started coming when you two were dating. A variety of your parent’s friends along with your brother’s and yours. You were surprised to see more cars in the driveway when you returned. Cas, Benny and Kelly were in the kitchen talking to your dad and brother, along with one of his old friends from school. It didn’t take long for the house to fill up with people and the sounds of laughter.  It was close to one by the time you and Dean went home after helping to clean up.  You were beat and ready to fall into bed, Dean not far behind.

The restaurant you were selling, was the store you spent every day at, it had been your baby over the last 8 years.  Since you were going to be closing it soon you had cut back on the Sunday hours which meant you and Dean could enjoy a lazy morning after the party. It was nice not to get up and go, you had missed the relaxing mornings you two used to enjoy. When you finally dragged yourselves from bed it was to the kitchen to make a late breakfast of eggs, bacon and toast. You would have to head in to work after lunch, but that didn’t mean you had to be in a hurry to get ready.  After cleaning up the kitchen Dean dragged you back to the bedroom where you spent a little more time catching up.

That week was Thanksgiving which meant a shorter work week for you both.  Thursday morning started off much like Sunday’s had, although you both had to be out the door by noon and have your food and deserts ready. A late lunch with your family at your grandmother’s house was first.  The Y/L/N could be a rowdy group, so it was usually a good time as long as you could avoid any family arguments.  After cleaning up there you would head to Dean’s parents where they had an early dinner. You tried not to eat too much at either place for two reasons, one you wanted to be able to move later and two you were trying to avoid being sick.  It didn’t hit you as much as before, but you never knew when it would.  After the guys collapsed in front of the football game on tv, Mary and Jess hit the adds. You left to go pick up your mom.  The last two years you to had done some Thursday evening shopping because you both worked on Friday, and it gave you time just he two of you.  You hit the mall and a few stores trying to start on your shopping list.  You meant it when you told Dean that everything was going to be done early this year. You were going to enjoy the Holiday season.  When you finished you dropped her back at home before going back to your in-laws. A short time later you and Dean headed home.

Much like it does every year December flies by.  You hadn’t finished your shopping as early as you wanted, but you weren’t as stressed about it this year.  You enjoyed nights with Dean curled up on the couch.  You had seen the Grinch more times than you could count this year, I guess you were having a Grinchy year.  Before you knew it, Christmas Eve was here.  Both you and Dean worked that morning before meeting your families at church for the 4 o’clock service.  You had to go early if you wanted a park, and a seat.  It was always so beautifully decorated for Christmas, you enjoyed taking it all in waiting for Mass to start. One of your favorite parts of this service was when Father would call any little kids up that wanted to and ask them questions about the religious aspects of the holiday. Where was Jesus born?  Your favorite answer this year was Baltimore. What gifts did the baby receive? Cake and ice cream.  The answers they came up with were always a laugh.  You hoped you would be sending your own child up there someday.

Everyone headed to your parents’ house after, some other family and friends would be joining you. You had dinner and then played games. As you and your cousins had grown so had the games.  Jake was the only child present and he wasn’t old enough to understand what was going on. With all the adults playing it could get a little rowdy especially between Sam and Dean.  One of your aunts had done that gifts wrapped in a saran wrap ball and it seemed like only those two could make much progress.  So of course, when one of them was trying to unwrap the other would give a little trash talk.  You had been feeling a little off and would disappear from the room.  When the ball was unwrapped, and Dean saw you left again he came to find you.  He found you sitting on the steps just outside your parents’ upstairs bathroom.

“Everything all right, Sweetheart?”

“Not really, my stomach is hurting me a bit and if I try to eat or drink I’m running to the restroom because it’s going to make a reappearance.”

“Anything I can do to make it better?”

“Thank you, but no I just need to tough it out.”

“Soon Y/N this is all going to be behind you honey.”

“I cannot wait.”

He held you close as you both sat on the steps for a few minutes softly kissing the top of your head.  When you rejoined your family, they were on to a different game.  The two of you hanging back to watch.  When the time came to leave you were more than ready to head home just so Dean could hold you in bed.  You fell into a fitful sleep that night, not feeling all that much better when you awoke.

The two of you were spending the morning at your mom and dad’s and then going to John and Mary’s in the afternoon. Your dad’s mom and siblings joined you for breakfast and afterwards you exchanged gifts.  Luckily, you only had to leave the room once.  Dean knew you weren’t feeling well so the two of you left shortly after to go home before heading to his parent’s house. When you arrived, you headed to the kitchen to help Mary.  The two of you got along really well, you often considered yourself luck in that way. A few of your friends didn’t have the best relationship with their in-laws. By the time Sam and Jess arrived dinner was ready, and you all gathered round the table to enjoy. It was a great night spent with them.

The end of December was quickly approaching, and you hadn’t heard anything from the company buying your story, communication had just stopped.  After you talked to your dad, he started making phone calls to the company again to see what was going on.  Their plans for the property and been pushed back a few months so they were no longer in a hurry to close. You ended up pushing your foot surgery back there weeks till the 6th of February.  Your dad finally got a date out of them you were closing on Monday the 3rd of February, that would also be the last day open.  You would spend the next two days moving everything out. The New Year wasn’t even here yet and you knew it was going to be going fast.  

Things were going to get busy for you in January, so you and Dean decided you just wanted a quiet night in for New Year’s.  At the store you picked up a bottle of Sparkling Cider to toast with, neither one of you big Champagne drinkers, along with a few different appetizers to make.  The evening was spent curled up on the couch watching movies, until you switched over to watch the ball drop. Sharing a sweet kiss with Dean when midnight arrived.  This was going to be your year.  The surgeries would be done soon, you and Dean could move on with the rest of your lives, it was all going to work out and be fine.

You had been right when you told Dean January would be crazy.  You spent the month working on cleaning out things at work.  The office took a bit of time, dividing up what was going home and what you were sending to your new office.   Cleaning out things you didn’t use any more, what you were selling and what was moving to the other location.  On top of all that you were trying to keep a relatively clean house and not let everything there fall on Dean’s shoulders. Everyday it seemed like a little bit more left the store and the shelves were slowly becoming bare.

Sunday through Wednesday of closing week was going to be extremely chaotic for you all, so you wanted things at home that needed to be done before surgery finished by Saturday. You cleaned the house top to bottom, rearranged the living room furniture so it would be easier to navigate on crutches, got the crutches ready,  finished laundry and tried to stock up on non-perishable groceries so Dean wouldn’t have to go out as much.  

The last two days you were open were particularly emotional for you.  This location had been your baby and second home for the last 8 years, you had helped with the cleaning, gutting, and remodeling of the building when you bought it.  Everything was set up just how you wanted it.  When you went back to work in a few months at the other location it was going to be vastly different.  Sitting at the closing you were trying to hold back the tears as you signed the papers, part of you wished Dean was there to give you some of his strength but he had to be at the shop that day since he was taking the next 3 days off.  Leaving the closing you went to work to open for the last time.  That day was extremely busy for your and Donna so many of your loyal customers coming in one last time.  Dean came in for a late lunch giving you a much-needed hug, he left after promising to be back before closing.  Dean along with your parents came back before closing helping you to clean up and finish making orders.  When you turned the open sign off one last time Dean pulled you into his arms and held you while you cried.

“It’s okay Sweetheart. It’s the start of a new chapter, you have a lot of memories to take with you.”

“Thanks, Dean. I know, I just hate goodbyes, and change.”

“I know you do, but it’s a good one.  Keep telling yourself that.  Closing this story is going to help greatly relieve some stress.”

“You’re right, Babe.”

“Hey! I’m always right. We should probably head home; we have an early busy day tomorrow.”

It was six am when you and Dean pulled back into the parking lot the next day.  You had wanted a few minutes without the others around to take care of some of your stuff.  By 6:30 someone was there to disconnect the water lines so the pop dispenser and ice machine could be moved.  Your parents arrived at 7 and you started loading both of their trucks and the trailer with items going to the other store.  Sam arrived and went with Dean in one of the trucks following your mom to go unload. Electricians, and others arrived to get the oven and its components unhooked.  You had gone around the day before and put a note on everything stating where it was going, whether the other store, your or your parents’ house for storage, staying in the building or going somewhere and you just didn’t know where yet.  The movers were the last to arrive taking some of the bigger equipment for you, this way you guys didn’t have to figure out how to get it on and off a trailer.  Dean and Sam arrived back to help load the truck and your SUV. At one-point Dean took one of the “going somewhere” notes and tapped it to your back.  It was awhile and two stops later before anyone told you. It was 6 o’clock that night when you put the last load in your car to leave for the day, heading home to unload one more time.  By the time it was unloaded your foot hurt so bad you could barely walk, both you and Dean collapsing on the couch not moving till you went to bed.

The next day you had a few more things to get out of the store and had to meet the pop company to pick up their equipment since they couldn’t come the previous day.  You left the store that afternoon for the final time. Your OB and scheduled one last ultrasound you had to run and get that done, thankfully the fibroid had not changed from your last one in December. One more grocery store run to stock up for a bit, then home to vacuum and make sure you were all packed for the hospital.  

Both your mom and Dean were going with you for surgery, but Dean had an early morning meeting the next day he couldn’t reschedule so your mom was staying the night in the hospital and bringing you home the next day.  It was an hour drive and you had to be there at 6:30 for an 8:30 surgery. You went through all your pre-op things and your mom and Dean joined you back there waiting for you to go.  Several people were in and out of your little curtain room, the surgeon, anesthesiologist, nurses, and med students.  It was finally time to wheel you back after getting one last hug and kiss from Dean and him telling you everything would be fine.  A few hours later you woke up in recovery which is where you saw Dean and your mom again.  It is also where you found out they didn’t have a room for you, and you were staying in a short-term patient ward.  It was almost like a pre-op room, one giant room with 15 curtained off rooms.  Actually, the pre-op room was bigger.  There was a bed a chair and one of the old hospital TVs that moved.  The back of your foot where they did the heal work was bleeding through your after surgery splint and they said it would take a few hours to stop so they propped it up and told you, you couldn’t get out of bed. It only took a few hours for you to be tired of sitting in one spot, as someone who spent all day on her feet this was a struggle.  Sleeping in a hospital had never come easy for you with your previous surgeries and adding all the extra noise with so many people around that wasn’t happening either.  It was later in the afternoon when you told Dean he should go.

“Babe, you might as well head home, you have an hour drive and there isn��t anything you can do here. Plus, there really isn’t any room in here.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave if you need me.”

“We will be fine, I’m not moving, and mom will be here if I need something.  Go home get some rest it’s been a long week.  I love you I’ll see you at home tomorrow.”

“Love you too, I’ll call you later. Take care Sweetheart. Y/M/N, call me if you need something or anything.” He gave you a kiss and hugged your mom before leaving.

The rest of the evening and night dragged on, when you finally fell asleep that night you woke up almost every half and hour. The nurses were in every hour, and around 2am one of the other patients started screaming because he pulled something out he shouldn’t have.  By 5 am you gave up on sleep.  One of the doctors came in later in the morning to wrap another layer of gauze around your splint to cover up the blood, and by noon they let you go home.  

The next two weeks went fairly quickly, Dean made a good nurse when he was home at night getting you whatever you needed so you didn’t have to get up or try and carry anything while using the crutches.  You had practiced on the crutches before surgery, but it is still a little different when you have to be using them.  As your family knew well, you were also accident prone and managed to slip and slam your foot down a handful of times.  Both your parents, and his would stop over during the day to see if you needed anything or to bring you lunch.   The stitches and staples came out at the two-week mark, that wasn’t a fun experience you had never had it hurt as much as it did this time.  The doctor wasn’t putting you in a cast, he was going to let you leave in a boot which you would be able to take off if you were sitting with it up or to shower.  Thank you for small miracles!  The next appointment was four weeks away, the Friday before your Monday surgery.

The next month went fine for you, just very long.  You were still stuck at home so things did get a bit boring, a number of new games could be found on your phone and you found a website with fanfiction from your favorite show you started reading.  While fine for you, things were going nuts in the outside world, something called Covid-19 was making a lot of people extremely sick, overseas countries shut down and in the U.S., many states were doing the same thing.  Your follow up appointment was cancelled and moved to a video chat, then days before it was scheduled your next surgery was cancelled.  Stay at home orders were put in place and masks were required for those who had to leave the house.  

It was definitely a crazy time and it went on for a few months.  6 weeks after you last video appointment,  during the first full week of May, you had another and this one sent you to therapy if you could find someone open.  You could also lose the boot and work on losing the crutches. The place you had gone for past surgeries was open and you started back there.  This surgery was the hardest time you had to start walking again.  There was a bit of pain if your heel hit the ground, so you couldn’t completely get rid of the crutches like you wanted to.  The therapist you were working with said with the type of surgery done to your heel, the pain you had with it would determine what you could do and how fast you would get there.  

You got a call from your OB’s office, they were given the clear to start surgeries again and yours was scheduled for June 1st, which was two weeks away.  You had had a few problems over the last couple of months and just hoped nothing had changed and they would be able to just go in and take the fibroid out no problem.  The closer the date got the more worried you became.  Dean tried to tell you everything was going to be fine, and not to worry, but you aren’t the best listener.  Because of things going on with Covid, you needed to be home the week before surgery as much as possible only going to therapy twice and the grocery store once early in the week to get a few things you wanted.  For the last three months Dean had done the shopping, and you were thankful, but there were a few things you wanted to get yourself.  Saturday you were going to have to get a Covid test and then had to self-isolate until you left for the hospital on Monday morning.  The hardest part of that was going to be sleeping in a different room from Dean, you were even supposed to wear a mask when he was in the same room as you.  You had spent the week before rearranging the living room again, then cleaning the house best you could as you hobbled around. Friday night you spent the evening with Dean curled up in your spots on the couch.  The closer you got to surgery the more nervous you became.      

“Sweetheart, everything is going to go just fine.  There is nothing for you to worry about, and no matter how much you worry it isn’t going to change anything.”

“I know, I’m just, I can’t help it.  You know how my mind works I’m great at going to the worse case possible. I’ve always wanted kids, and I know you did too, I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to give that to you.”

“Hey, it’s you and me no matter what happens.  If we can have kids one day awesome, if not we will look into adopting.  What’s not changing is you and me, we are in this together, always.”

“I love you.  Thanks for being so amazing, especially during these last crazy months when I couldn’t do much on my own.”

“I love you, too. That’s what I’m here for, you would do the same thing for me.  You always take care of me when I’m sick.  I will always be here for you.”

“I will always be here for you too.”

Saturday morning you did a few more things around the house before giving Dean a kiss and leaving for your test.  It went fairly quick your doctor’s office scheduled you an appointment and you preregistered. You headed home to work on laundry and make sure you bag was packed. That evening you and Dean were watching movies in the living room, although unlike usual you weren’t sitting together on the couch.  Sunday was a warm sunny day, so you enjoyed it outside. Monday morning Dean took you to the hospital, you went through check in and then through the routine in pre-op.  Just before they took you back you snuck in a quick hug and kiss from Dean.  

“I love you, Baby, everything is going to be just fine.  I will talk to you after surgery.”

“I love you too, thank you for everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me for anything.  We are in this together.  Love you Sweetheart.”

Dean was able to stay at the hospital during surgery, but he had to leave after. They weren’t allowing visitors into the hospital, so you were going to be on your own in the hospital for the next three days. Dean headed to the waiting room and they came to wheel you back to surgery.  Well, here goes nothing. 

Part 2

[unabashegirl]

Enticing (19)

Author’s note: Hi guys — I hope you are all having a wonderful night. There is not much to tell. We are still stuck in quarantine since the number of infected is still on the rise.

Let me know how everyone is doing! My birthday is right around the corner.

Also, had anyone seen the kid that vlogs, talks and laughs like David? I've seen the videos and he has copied all his mannerisms. It's so odd.

---

Y/N is oblivious to why David hates his father so much. It doesn't feel right to ask about such a deep-rooted issue. She only hopes that when the time is right and he reaches out.

"How come you never told me about your father?" David breaks the silence that has settled within the car. Interestingly enough, they have never talked about their families. They've talked about politics, art, traveling, and plenty of other things.

"I don't really know" She shrugs, there isn't a specific reason to why Y/N has kept the death of her father in the dark. She wasn't hiding it from anyone. It was just hard for her to talk about him without getting chocked up.

"Tell me about him" David's thumb continues to stroke the side of her thigh. It is mostly for his comfort. He enjoys her soft skin against his fingertips.

"My dad was wonderful. My mom to this day says that he was an average lover, but a magnificent father" Y/N swallows back, trying to control her emotions. "I had a great childhood. I wouldn't change a thing. I was spoiled, loved, and cared for" David remains quiet as he thinks about his own father. "We found out about his cancer during my freshman year of college. I begged him to let me stay just so I could take care of him. He was too selfless and forced me to leave" Y/N just wishes she had more time with him. She wishes that they had gone out more frequently to fish. It was his favorite hobby.

Mr. Y/L/N just progressively got sick after being diagnosed. It was aggressive and all her family could do was sit around and pray for the best. It essentially metastasized to his brain and lungs and left him in bed. His brain tumor made him lose his short term memory. It also caused him to lose the movement of the side of his body. The man in that bed those last few weeks wasn't her father. The tumor made him disoriented and confused. She still held his hand until his last breath. He died of respiratory failure on a very early morning.

"I am sorry" It isn't until David takes her hand in his that she realizes that she is silently crying. She smiles through her tears and quickly wipes them off her face.

"I guess it's just hard to accept the fact that he will never be there. He will miss my wedding and he will miss the birth of his grandchildren. He'll never get to see me as a fully grown adult" Y/N hates thinking about it, but someone will always be missing. "I still have my mom though."

He doesn't know what to say or respond. He feels like an actual dick for complaining about his father. Her father had died and there is nothing she can do to bring him back. Whilst he has his father very alive and all they do is fighting.

"What about your family?" They have just crossed to Queens. They are behind schedule. They had stopped for a coffee and a snack. Henry was also fuzzy since he isn't used to staying in his car seat for so long.

"Where do I start? My mother is an angel sent from heaven. I have a young sister named Allison. She is a lawyer. She just recently got engaged to Nate. He is in medical school. Lastly, there is my father. He used to be CEO of the company too" Y/N knows that she shouldn't, but she is still pretty nervous to meet the Dobrik clan. She just wants to make a great first impression.

"When is your sister getting married?" Mr. Dobrik senior didn't approve of Nathaniel. He worried that Nathaniel wouldn't be able to provide for his daughter. Nate was a bit lost and hadn't decided on what to study when he had proposed to Allison. Mr. Dobrik called him out and treated him like trash. David had to step in and ask his father to back off.

"Hopefully soon. My dad doesn't approve of Nathaniel" David explains, "He thinks he isn't enough for her. He says Nate is just common and ordinary" He rolls his eyes. David just doesn't understand the necessity that his father has for controlling everyone's lives.

"As long as they love one other, the rest doesn't matter" David smiles at his girlfriend's words as he continues the drive. His father can be impolite and make anyone feel very small. David just hopes that he doesn't overstep this time around.

While growing up, Mr. Dobrik always emphasized the importance of investing money in property. At the beginning that's what the house at the Hamptons was. None of the family members ever imagined the great joy and memories that it would give them. As soon as school was out Mrs. Dobrik would gather the kids in the car and move to the house.

During college it became that hang out place for David's friends. They would all fly in and stay at the mansion. Now it's the place where the family spends long weekends, holidays and summers. It doesn't matter the season or the temperature outside. The Hamptons house is the sanctuary of the Dobriks.

"David wait!" Y/N stops him before he can get out of the car. The palms of her hands are sweating and her legs feel wobbly. He let's go of the handle of the car and shift his body to face her. He can read her with just a glimpse of her face. "I'm scared" she exhales, "What if they hate me or don't approve?"

"Their impressions or opinions about you won't phase me or stir me away from you, baby" He holds her hands, "I would love for you guys to get along, but I also know how difficult they can be" David kisses her hands trying to ease her thoughts. He hopes his father keeps his comments to himself. He knows he will protect her at all costs. "Ready?"

She nods and gives him a small smile. David leans over and gives her a chaste kiss.

David is the first out of the car. He carries what is left of his venti Americano under his arm as he opens the trunk of the car. Y/N gets out a few seconds after him after taking a few deep breaths. She stretches out her legs and gathers the wrappers and trash that has accumulated in the car for the last two hours.

Y/N had planned out their trip based on Henry's naps. They arrive perfectly in time to wake him up from his last nap. She throws the diaper bag over her shoulder before moving to the seats in the back. Y/N doesn't want to wake him up abruptly since she knows how mad he can get. Plus, the whole point of planning their arrival at this time is for Henry to be happy and in his best mood to greet his grandparents.

"Hi baby" She whispers as she takes him out of his seat and into her arms. Y/N wraps a fluffy blanket over his small body before cuddling him close. She runs her index finger over his T-zone to get him to wake him up. Like clockwork, his eyes start fluttering and a small yawn escapes his lips. "How was your nap, bubba?" Y/N asks as she kisses his forehead. Before she can continue to cuddle him, loud squeak peers, through the air.

A younger woman, with dark, shoulder-length hair comes running out of the house towards David. She wears black leggings and a baggy sweater with a top bun.

Allison Dobrik is the spitting image of her older brother with the feminine touch of their mother. She is shorter than David but just as ferocious. She isn't like the girls she used to play with. Allison is independent and very stubborn. She hates when she is compared to her older brother or her father.

"Look at you!" David laughs as he hugs her tightly as he spins her around. The only woman beside her mother and Y/N to call him out in his bullshit is Allison. "God you are heavy" He exhales after setting her back down on the floor.

"Are you calling me fat, asshole?" She asks as she smacks his stomach. "Not all of us have a private gym and chefs" Allison is an environmental lawyer. She spends most of her days advocating for clean technology and climate change law. It is her greatest passion.

"What's mine is yours. I've told you this a million times" Allison rolls her eyes at her older brother. Allison and David text most days and they let each other know about their days. David most days tries to convince her to move back to Manhattan. She currently lives in D.C with her fiance. Henry's cooing causes Allison to turn her attention to his girlfriend. "This is Y/N, -- my girlfriend".

For a second, Allison is taken back and surprised by her older brother's words.

"Hello" Y/N shyly smiles as she tries to get Henry to suck on his pacifier. Allison smiles back at Y/N.

"Hi! It's so nice to meet you!" Allison is very protective of her brother mostly because he is always around dumb and superficial girls. She can perceive by the looks of Y/N that she isn't like the rest. She is different so Allison is willing to give her a chance.

"Likewise" Y/N exhales, content with the first exchange of words. Allison's attention turns to Henry. "Here is your nephew. He is a little bit out of it because he just woke up" Allison smiles widely to the little boy and reaches out for him.

"Hi baby. I missed you! You are so big already!" Allison kisses his chubby cheeks before giving him a gentle hug. "What are you giving him?" She asks surprised at his growth. Allison had been there for the birth of Henry and hadn't seen him since he was two weeks old.

"Just milk" Y/N beams as she tickles his belly with her index finger. David shuts and locks the car before approaching them, carrying the bags.

"and lots of love" He says giving Y/N a quick kiss on the cheek before walking past by. Allison giggles at Y/N's blushed cheeks. Allison instantly finds their small interaction cute. She had never seen his brother be affectionate with another woman.

"Come on" Allison urges her towards the main entrance of the house. Y/N can already hear David yelling their arrival when she walks into the beautiful residence.

Just like most houses a lamp hangs from the ceiling of the house by the entrance. The interior of the house is painted in white. At the right of the entryway staircases are leading upstairs and downstairs. David settles the suitcases by the front door before turning to close the door after Y/N.

"Here" he notices her carrying the diaper bag and some of Henry's blankets and toys.

"I don't mean to be rude or state the obvious, but this house is huge!" She whispers to her boyfriend. David chuckles and intertwines their hands before turning back to Allison who is making faces to Henry.

"Where is the rest of the herd?" Allison laughs and shakes her head at him.

"They are in the living room" She rolls her eyes before leading the way into the living room.

Mrs. Dobrik stands in the bar that is situated on the side of the living room. She is pouring her own cup of red wine when she hears her kids walk in.

"I thought I heard the car!" She says as she places the wine bottle down and faces up. "Hi sweetie!" Mrs. Dobrik beams as she approaches the couple. She is quick to notice them holding hands and the way that Y/N is shyly standing behind David. She cups David's face and kisses both of his cheeks. "I've missed you so much"

"I missed you more" David responds as he hugs her with a single arm. "This is Y/N"...

TAGS: @getmepizzza​, @imsad05​, @yourwonderbelle​, @nohalohoseok​, @lavendercuddles​, @2007rh​, @marvelgirl2118​, @jeezkiddo​, @beeechhh​, @duh-dobrik​, @kllycole​, @meanlopz817​, @snazzydobrik​, @frickin-bats​, @wonderlandlovelove​, @millie-753​, @hollietee1​, @cubanidiot​, @itsdaviddobrik​, @justlikehufflepuff​, @clarissahunter​, @saltysebastianstan​, @daviddobrikssflamethrower​, @sloaneemily​, @unfitmisfit​, @blueyedstarlight13​, @galaxy-moon​, @alyssajunell​, @crowdedimagines​, @pineappledobrik​, @roxyedobrik​, @owenniasstars​, @didyouheartherain

[not-bumbles-guthrie]

When The Beasts Run Wild

A weird choice for a first tumblr post but alas! I must undermine expectation! If you’re unlucky enough to be interested in reading this, here’s a little description:

In a deserted environment, brutalized by nuclear fallout, we find Cherry. She’s a quiet, nihilistic young woman plagued by the knowledge that she has lived her entire life in the remains of a society that no longer exists. The story follows her as her fellow survivors celebrate the Summer Solstice. Unfortunately, more seems to be at hand as it dawns upon Cherry and her lover that the world might be ending soon.

When it came to the explosion, no one imagined it would lead to the downfall of humanity. It would lead us to a return to order, an acoustic version of the world the humans had created. They would no longer be a part of it. It was a strange concept to grow used to as the days passed, and people were eaten at by the radiation. Of course, there were people that ran to the nuclear hostels, the ones hidden deep in the underbelly of Mother Earth. Yet, they talk of those places being overrun. One person says they were there when the President was found, slumped over. She’d also been killed by the radiation from the second blast. The person who told me this would die too in the coming weeks. Her face was bloodied when she took her last breath, shaky and demure. Then, with a flourish, she sucked in one last time, as hard as she could, and breathed out, “Fin!” While she didn’t have the strength for that exclamation point, I like to imagine her enthusiasm behind it is deserving of the emphasis.

Dogs run free now. If I had to take a guess on who ruled the expanse of land Mother left us, it would be them. She seems to have made them impervious to the air, to the invisible killer. Then again, we believe that she made us impervious to the same air. Perhaps we are just lucky, though. The dogs are destined. Eventually, we will die out. I don’t think the same can be said about the puppies, with their floppy ears and jovial smiles that cut through the particles.

I toss a piece of my flatbread to the yappy pup at my ankle. Her name is Annika, after Queenie’s grandmother who survived the first blast only to die because of the second one. She isn’t my dog; unlike most of the people here, I don’t choose dogs. They find me, visit me, and then they drift away either to their human companions or back to the dust and decay. Mother Earth would’ve blessed me with one if She wanted me to tend to a dog. They are Her chosen successors, after all. I’m merely here to die and be eaten by one of them when the time comes for my body to return to Mother through a dog’s shit that will hopefully make this land fertile once more.

Or maybe it won’t. Who fucking cares? It’s not like there’s a 9 a.m. office job to attend or a peewee football game to cheer on my snot-nosed kids at. There’s the dogs, the open sores, the radiation, and Mother Earth. That’s all. Those are the last things a human will ever know.

I used to ponder what the limits of humanity would be. I thought I would see the end of it, and that ending would be magical. We would finally know what the finality of the human brain was, what its capacity was. However, it’s become quickly apparent that in my eighteen years, nothing will ever show me that capacity. This is the capacity. The height of human invention and creativity? Its own destruction. How poetic. And to think, I was a baby and I missed it all.

It’s weird, living in a sarcophagus of time. I know everything about a culture that is dead. A species that is dead. Soon, I will be dead too. I’ve been told, by a doctor who lives in the camp, that most of us will only make it another 15 years. Maybe I’ll make it longer, he said, because I miraculously survived the first two blasts before the age of five. If I didn’t die then, perhaps I’m meant to last long enough to outlive the cancers and the ARS. Personally, I don’t think he was a very smart doctor. Even I know that’s not how radiation works. Put simply, I will be dead. It’s only a matter of when Mother Earth decides to reclaim me.

Father sits in The Temple when I return with Annika. The growth of what few flowers and vegetables can be produced in this climate surround him, billowing at his feet. His toenails were kissed by the vines of the potatoes, which had grown gnarly like his bunions. Father was a sight for sore eyes, with the fallout aging him past his years. He deserved to have a big, great white beard, but alas. All he had to show for his near two decades of turmoil was a small patch of growth on his face. He no longer had a full head of hair, and the sores on his skull near his neck opened daily with each movement. That’s what filled my vision as I walked towards him, as his head was bowed in prayer.

“Father,” came out soft and trembling. I cleared my throat. No need for that.

“Any news? Has Her Graciousness spoken to you?”

He spoke about Mother with a reverence that no one in the group possessed. He worshipped her. My mouth became dry, and its taste made me nauseated. There was nothing to report. Mother Earth had never spoken to me. She never spoke to him, why would that change with me?

“Yes, Father. She has.”

His eyes widened, pupils dilating as he took in more light. Blue rhinestones. “What did She tell you?”

I glared at Annita, nudging my head to snap back and tell her to kindly fuck off. The stupid animal simply sat there and stared at me. I rolled my eyes. “Stupid girl,” I muttered before looking Father in his eyes. “Mother Earth tells me that we will be safe for the coming Solstice.”

We had no idea if the Summer Solstice was close or not, actually. We assumed, based on the markings Monsignor Karl had kept for the past nineteen years since the first blast knocked out the power grid in the eastern hemisphere. He was the original Keeper, passing on the reins to Ingrid after he passed. It was hard to watch him go, as the cancer overtook him. For the last weeks, he did nothing but bleed from his mouth. Thanks to him, we are able to honor Mother. Kind of.

“That’s a good girl. Thank you, Cherry.”

I nodded in response, bowing at Father, before walking away. Annita followed me, yipping as we made our way to Camp. Ingrid acknowledged me with a demure nod as I passed her. She wore an ornate necklace, one that was found through scavenging when the Monsignor was still alive, that held a long-stopped pocket watch as its pendant. It was the Monsignor. It ran for the first few weeks following the Chernobyl incident, before the battery finally died. It was what helped him keep the time in the first days. Now, Ingrid wore it to simply mark herself as a special one. She could study sun patterns and tell you the approximate time of day, which made her invaluable, especially when it came down to times like the Solstices. These days, though, she seemed to be slipping up more and more. It made sense, given she was always awake when I woke up for my nightly leak. She had to be tired after being up half the night.

“Hey,” I called out before plopping myself down in front of her sundial.

“Hey yourself. Your shadow is fucking up my clock.”

That was all I needed before I was brushing myself off and moving away from Gritty. It was no matter; she was routinely not in the mood to fuck around. “Talk to you later, precious. Perhaps I’ll visit you on your nightly ‘stare at the sky’ session?”

“Fuck you,” came from behind me as I walked away. “Go concoct more lies.”

The last part came out quietly, as a small tease. My body froze up at first, with my back to her, but I could hear her chuckling in the annoying way she would. I flipped her off before turning into the tent that held our food. Dinner, it appeared, was served.

The small feast consisted of grains, including sunflower seeds, and bits of wild strawberry. For the group of ten people, it would barely make us feel full, but it was enough to satisfy the Itch. When your stomach lining is eaten away for so long, even a smidge of food does away with the Itch for a few. It would at least let us sleep until the Sun came up, flooding us with the blessings of Mother. Ingrid sat across from me, kicking at my shins when she caught me staring at her plate, which was empty but for a bit of juice stain from the strawberries.

“Perv,” she said with as much menace as love. Her smirk told me everything.

I rolled my eyes, playing with my ponytail, wrapping it around the ends of my finger. Perv. It rang over and over in my mind. So what? Was how I wanted to respond. I didn’t, though. My throat stopped me. My heart stopped me.

“Thank you for this blessed bounty, Mother Earth,” Father’s voice rang out.

“Thank you, Mother,” we whispered in a low baritone. Our heads were bowed over our empty plates.

“We worship you for saving us, Lover. Thank you for blessing us with eternal servitude to you. We will cleanse your Home, Wife,” Father continued with our heads dipping further towards our empty plates. There was a small clang as my glasses hit the edge of the ceramic. Gritty kicked at me again. I almost giggled.

This was my moment. I knew this. I had practiced this countless times. I raised my head to see the crown of Ingrid’s head, and I stopped for a minute. Her dark hair caught the last rays of the sun, and I was blinded. My voice cracked as I started us all in, singing, “Danke- Danke schoen, darling, danke schoen.”

“Thank you for all the joy you bring,” everyone started in on the second line, holding their hands out to each other.

Miss Fieri grabbed my hand. Her painted red nails scratched at my palm, and the old hole in the corner of her lip caught my eye as I faced her. Her face sagged, and her eyeliner was smudged. It was a miracle she had any. To my right, Monsignor Karl’s son, Vlad, sat though I had to reach out to wrap my palm around his amputated wrist. He smiled as he sang the lines, “Save those lies, darling, don’t explain.” It was strange to think about the fact that Mother blessed him with the stupid mustache the twinkled with as we sat there, singing. Yet, he was too stupid to become the next Keeper. That’s why we have Gritty.

Across from me, Gritty winked at me. She nodded at my hand on Vlad’s stump, and I knew what she was doing. Who’s the perv now? I thought. I relinquished my smile, giving her a disappointed nod. “Get your head out of the gutter,” I mouthed while Queenie fucked up the “Auf wiedersehen” despite the fact that her mother is from Germany. Dumbass. Gritty caught my look towards Queenie, smiling. She flipped her hair, impersonating the prima donna. I held in my laughter, smiling at her. I shook my head again, but this time in appreciation.

Then, I saw Father’s gaze. His eyes narrowed, brows furrowed so that the long spindly hairs were more apparent. His scar across his face was terrifying enough without the expression. I avoided looking him in the eye for a reason. My mouth formed a thin line in response. I bowed my head, and we finished the hymnal for Mother. We let go of each other’s hands to our lips, kissing our hands, and shooting the kisses towards the ground. Oppa and Kyle gave small whoops and hollers as the old woman and the young man hugged each other. I watched them closely, noting the miracle of their friendship.

“Thinking about the time you fucked him?”

“Fuck you, Gritty. It was four years ago.”

“We all know how formative that was for you.”

“You fucked him too. Shut up.”

“You know we’re supposed to fuck him again.”

“Yeah,” I whispered as we walked further from the tent. Oppa and Kyle went their separate ways, with the kind old woman heading to her tent, wrapped in her shawl she swears Stevie gave her. Kyle appeared to be more preoccupied with the new girl we picked up. Her name was Cola. Like the soda. She was his new toy. She was only fifteen, but she told Father she hadn’t lost her virginity yet. We were supposed to give her unto Mother soon because of that. I don’t know why she bothered to stay. I suppose the food alone is worth it, maybe the dogs. She’s only been here a week and she already found a little dachshund to be her companion. She’s taken to calling him Nilla. Gritty and I passed them, and I gave Nilla a little pat on the head as he came up to my ankles and pushed his nose against me.

“Do you think they’ll force us to do it when we hold the Ceremony for her?” I asked once we were out of earshot.

“Probably. Father is known for liking convenience,” She responded quietly. Her tone was melancholic.

We found our way out of the light of the camp fires. I scooped her hand into mine. “That’s true. It’s been too long since the last time.”

“I don’t know why we’re supposed to wait until the Solstice.”

“It’s because it’s spring. Fertility and all that shit.”

“Isn’t sex supposed to be sacred? What does the time period have to do with that?”

“I don’t know, man. Stop asking such stupid questions.” I let go of her hand, picking up a stick instead.

She folded her arms across her chest. “Just because you don’t want Mother’s babies doesn’t mean you gotta be a dick because I’m asking questions.”

“It’s not that, and you know it, Grit.”

“Then what is it, Cher?”

I rolled my eyes, facing away from her. “It’s easier to just do this shit than think about why it makes no sense.” It was as close of an answer I could give.

“Yeah, but doesn’t it kill you that Mother Earth says it’s just a sacred act but instead we treat it like this fucking parade that happens once a year. Sometimes twice, if Kyle doesn’t get his jizz in us.” Her head was cocked to the side as she studied me. We stopped at the edge of the woods like we always did. We knew no one could see us all the way out here. They just assumed we were playing in the woods, as we had since kids. Not questioning the basis of our existence. I threw the stick into the woods, hearing a small yelp from some animal. Probably a cat, from the sound. “I just…” I plopped on the ground next to a rock, resting my elbow against it. “It’s easier to not think about it instead of what we can’t do.”

“What is it that you want to do?”

“You know what I want to do,” I fire back.

Her mouth snapped shut. She came and sat down next to me. “You’re the only one stopping that from happening.”

“Existentialism doesn’t work when you live in a nuclear wasteland,” I responded as she put her head on my shoulder. “You’re looking for trouble,” I whisper as her hair tickles my ear.

“Maybe I am.” She shifted so her bicep rubbed mine. “Though, I suppose, you’re looking for it too.”

I stared out ahead of me, looking at the stars that peaked up from the line of mountains. The sun was sinking fast, so only a small blue line spread across the sky, and it only served to continue to illuminate the stars. They were twinkling, like the look in Ingrid’s eye or the way the last rays bounced off her pendant. I wanted to sink into the folds of her essence, even if that was the exact trouble she was getting me into. Her cheekbones were highlighted in the rising moonlight, eyes curled up in a smile. I flicked her black hair behind her shoulder, holding it close to my nose for a brief moment. Beauty incarnate.

“You’re right.” I sighed as I sat back to look her in the eye. “I don’t understand why things got so twisted around here, but they did. Perhaps Mother wants it that way. I can’t tell. She doesn’t speak to me. But you knew that, didn’t you?” I joked, tugging on the braid in her hair.

She smiled, poking my shoulder. “Yes. Perhaps She doesn’t exist at all, have you thought of that?”

My eyes widened, and I almost looked behind me to make sure no one heard her. “That’s not true, and you know it. Why else are we here?”

“Pure chance. Luck. Destiny.” She moved closer to me; her breath fanned over my face. “Have you considered why we’re here?”

I sat back, sitting upright. “No.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Mother exists. Nietzche was right, but Mother isn’t God.”

“I think Father killed her, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“The words have been twisted. The principles have been twisted. Shit, we worship the Earth because of some age old religion that ruled the before times. Wake up, Cherry.”

We weren’t close to each other anymore. We both sat upright, rod straight. Her dark, arched brows captured my attention and I stared at them as she stared at the plains of my face. “It’s not like you and I can do anything to change that. Father rules over us, protects us. At least we have food. At least we’re living in the meantime.”

“I don’t think we’re going to be here for long.”

“I-” I stuttered, stopping. “Grit, what are you on?”

Her eyes were serious. Their brown expanse was narrowed for the first time in a long time. They were hard, determined to be taken for reality. She looked practically possessed. Her dark eyes were almost black. She didn’t speak for a moment. “Ingrid, please, tell me.”

The lost, yet determined, look in her eyes faded and she grabbed my chin, pointing my head towards the sky. “You see all those stars?” I made a noise to affirm yes. “Do you see that green one? Over to the left of the moon?” I made another noise. “That’s a new star. I don’t believe it to be a star, though.”

She let go of me, though her hand held my face still. “Oh,” is all I said. The world came together like a puzzle piece at that moment. That was why she was being so careless as of late. That’s why we were here now.

“You’re going to kiss me before the world ends, right?” I asked in a petite voice that almost broke. It was the only thing I thought of as it occurred to me that my prediction would be coming true sooner than I thought.

It was then that she tucked her hands into the base of my ponytail, anchoring herself to me as she pulled me forward to touch her lips to mine. They tasted of cherry chapstick, something she must have collected when she went out exploring to the local abandoned gas station a few days ago. My tongue instinctively reached out for a better taste, and she let me in. It was then that my hands were all over here, and she kissed me harder.

A week passed, and the Ceremony was upon us. Cola was going to be the star of the show. She was dressed in a red bridesmaid dress we found on one of the group explorations we went on. It fit her perfectly, and coupled with the dandelions in her curly red hair, she was fit to be the Solstice Queen. Kyle was also dressed in his suit that he’d worn for the past two years. Ingrid sat in front of her sun dial, dressed in her normal pair of jeans and a t shirt with holes. She couldn’t be convinced to dress up. I, however, was in a new dress Father had given me. It was a wedding dress like Princess Di’s. It was found in a thrift store, and he had held onto it for this Solstice celebration. It was poofy, and I was forced to wear the headpiece with it. I looked like a sullen bride, with my stained face and ratty hair. Queenie dyed my lips red with leftover strawberry juice. Gritty told me I looked like a pig to slaughter. She was probably right.

“Cherry,” Father called out in his quiet tone. “Come ‘ere.”

I shuffled towards him, passing Kyle and Cola, who stood whispering and touching each other. “Yes, Father?”

The sun was high in the sky, forcing Father to cover his eyes. “Will you get Ingrid in her dress? I know you two are close.” When he saw the light leave my eyes, he continued, “We have to prepare for our Solstice Queen’s first Outing.”

“Yes, Father.”

“I’m sure you can persuade her,” he said with a smirk.

My heart levitated, escaping my ribcage. I looked across the field, over Father’s shoulder, and made eye contact with Gritty. She was looking straight at me with a similar expression to the other night when she revealed to me the nature of the future.

“Yes, Father.”

I passed by Ingrid, nudging her shoulder with mine as I grabbed onto her and forced her to follow me. “Get your fucking dress on,” I mumbled as I led her to her tent.

“He knows, doesn’t he?”

“Probably. He’s acting funny.”

“How would he know?”

“You don’t exactly hide it.”

“Neither do you. You drool in my presence.”

I glared at her. “Bitch.”

“It’s just the truth.”

I rolled my eyes. “Just get dressed. It’s almost twelve. We have to get this show on the road.”

“Wow jeez can’t wait.” Her voice was saccharine.

I didn’t respond. I just waited for her to get into her flowy gown. It was peach colored, and it made her look washed out. Her hair stood out, at least. I played with the ends of it after I helped zip her into the dress. “You look great,” I said in an aimless attempt at flirting.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

It was a miracle she was here. Ingrid had the magical way of being everything all at once. She made me want to relive the artifacts of the past, to dive into that sarcophagus. It hurt knowing that the world was taking that away. It had taken away so much. Mother had taken away so much. I suppose someone has to pay for the sins of the humans past, but I didn’t imagine it would be me. The visceral part of me, in my heart, felt the pain of this realization. I was the penance for disrespecting Mother. This was my service. This was why we did the Solstice Outings. This was why Kyle, Father, and Vlad and the rest of them could fuck whoever whenever. It was why they called it fucking for them instead of an Outing for us. It felt wrong to call what me and Gritty did fucking. It wasn’t that. It was something sweeter, less one-sided. Then again, what we did is the sin that brought us to this aftermath in the first place.

“Is this the price we pay?” I asked as I braided her hair. “Forever damned to a lack of pleasure and to death?”

“I suppose.” She sighed, looking disjointed though connected to what I was saying. “It doesn’t have to be like this. We choose it to be.”

“There you go with existentialism again.”

“It’s not philosophy, my dear. It’s how things are.”

“I didn’t ask to be left to this world. To be forced into this stupid shit.”

“No, you didn’t. But you worship the people, the men, who made it this way.”

“So do you.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true.”

I let go of her last braid, letting it come undone. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

“What does being free mean to you, Cherry?”

“What are you? A cheesy sitcom? Let’s go.”

I walked out of the tent without looking back. Whatever. Whatever. Whatever.

The Ceremony lacked the pomp and circumstance that many of past Ceremonies would have had. There weren’t many flowers we cultivated beyond weeds. We made a bed out of hay, grass, and these pesky flowers. Ingrid and I held onto Cola as we walked her into the circle of people, which consisted of our tribe. Father stood at the head of the pack, with Kyle standing next to him and Oppa on the other side. She was the eldest in our bunch, so she got to be on his right hand side while Kyle stood on the left. Everyone hummed the Hymnal, while sometimes people sang a few of the words.

Danke shoen, darling. Danke schoen...

I wore the veil in front of my face while Gritty and Cola bowed their heads. Cola was only fifteen, from the looks of her, and I felt a pang in my heart as I remembered that Kyle was two years older than me. He was twenty. The difference sat in the pit of my stomach, sickening me, as Cola smiled so sweetly at him. We were by the bed of flowers now. The humming had stopped. She was pure, still. She was worth worshipping. That would change once this was over. She’d be expected to work the fields, collect things. She’d become withered and worn like the rest of us. She was no stranger to hard work, I knew that. She had survived for this long on her own when her mother died a few months ago. Her innocence was simply so palatable in this moment. Though, perhaps that was the problem. I boiled her down to this ball of naivety when she probably had seen more shit in her lifetime than I had. She was nomadic, built with “street smarts” as they used to call it. She was human. That was why the disgust laid heavy on me.

Father put his hand on Kyle’s shoulder. He smiled in his robes, which were really just shawls we found and blessed him with. He stood with a glint in his eye as he spoke.  “Thank you, everyone. Mother Earth has blessed us with a new addition, and may we bless her unto the Earth and manifest Her bounty.”

We nodded, some people making a few grunts in affirmation. Gritty stood stoic, unwilling to do anything more than bow her head. I saw out of the corner of my eye a droplet fall from her face to the floor.

“Cola, darling, step away from your sisters and lay yourself upon our Mother.”

The human stepped forward, kneeling before Father, reaching up to touch the top of his toes from a praying position, before she moved to lay on her chest. From there, Kyle stepped forward, bowing to Father, and then he bent down to unzip Cola’s dress. The red peeled back to reveal white. It was like reverse bleeding. Instead of finding the depth of a person, we were finding the outer shell. Perhaps that was how one got through this.

From there, she was stripped. The dress fell from her chest, revealing her budding breasts, before Kyle pulled it down and off of her, revealing her naked body to the rest of us. He touched her breasts, cupping them roughly, before biting at them. She laid there still, waiting for it to be over. Or at least that’s what I presumed. She didn’t act enthused. That wasn’t her job. Her job was to be there, to pleasure him. Everyone started humming, though not the Hymnal. A different song.

I made it through the wilderness,

Somehow I made it through.

Thankfully, we didn’t sing the lyrics. We hummed. We hummed louder when she started to groan in pain. We hummed even louder when he covered her mouth. We hummed louder still when he finished. We stopped when she sat up. She covered herself again, walking to join us again. She had given herself unto the Earth.

“She gave herself unto him,” Gritty whispered.

I didn’t respond. The sun shined in my eyes, blinding me, as we walked away. Kyle wouldn’t be ready again for another five hours or so, leaving us to tend to Cola before it was my turn. Then, we would turn in for the night before it was Ingrid’s turn in the morning.

It was strange, having an appointment for something like this. It made it better, I suppose, than being shocked by it. Cola wiped at her eyes as we went to Ingrid’s tent. I offered her a shoulder, wrapping an arm around her as we all piled onto Gritty’s cot.

When the sun started to set, we were woken from our nap. Father stood at the opening of the tent. His hands rested on his hips, making dual triangles. His face read of disappointment.

“You silly girls,” he said with a jovial smile, the disappointment fading. “You know it’s inappropriate to sleep together.”

“Sorry, Father,” I started as Cola started to wake up next to me.

“Shut up,” his voice came out hard. He softened as he said, “Just don’t do it again, okay?” though he looked to Cola, not me.

“Sorry, Father,” she said quietly.

“Good girl,” he said back before walking away.

Funny how easy it is to become a pet if you let yourself. Though that was what Gritty was talking about. I chose not to judge Cola because of this.

We got up, picking at each other to make each other primed for another Outing. Gritty fixed my hair, sneaking a small kiss on the cheek before the tent door opened and Oppa came in.

“Let’s go, girls. There’s a shooting comet we see coming our way across the sky. We want to watch it when the sun goes down.”

Gritty and I looked towards each other, and she smiled. My Outing was on a schedule. My life was on a schedule. We knew what this meant. I looked Oppa in the eye. “I’m coming!” It came out happy, bright. It was filled with the last squeeze of life from my lemon.

I left the tent in a flourish. This was it. This was the end. I felt the joy buried beneath me come undone. The string has been cut! I am free. I walk quickly, with Cola and Gritty on either side of me.

“You’ve never looked so excited to be fucked like a stuffed pig,” She teased me quietly.

I looked over to her as we walked to the tune of the Hymnal. “It doesn't have to be like this, remember?” I smiled wide, aware that I looked a little unhinged.

“Yes, you’re right,” she whispered before I stepped away and kneeled down. I didn’t bother to touch the toes of Father before I laid down. In fact, I reached behind me and started to work my zipper down. Kyle murmured, “I got it,” but I didn’t listen to him. His hand stood close to mine as the zipper was worked down. The fabric billowed around me, squishy as I worked my way out of it.

“Cherry, this isn’t how the Outing goes,” he whispered quietly as Father stared down at us.

I didn’t respond. I finished my way out of the dress. I stood up, stepped out of it, and looked Gritty in the eyes. I was naked. Exposed. The stars were looking upon me, as was everyone else. I chose this. It was then that a hand pushed me down, hard, onto my knees. I saw Gritty freeze up, and Cola held onto her harder.

“Cherry,” Father’s voice came out cold. “This is not how the Outing is done.” He pushed me back onto the bed of growth. “Have your way, Kyle,” he said as I laid there, spread out like a plate of hors de o’deauvrs. The circle began to sing.

My fear is fading fast

Been saving it all for you

He bit me, ate my skin, before he fucked me. It was a blip in time. I looked towards the green star, the thing that was coming to destroy us. It was beautiful. I saw life in it. I saw the beauty in all things. I forgot that there was a boy fucking me, brutalizing me, making me his meal. His object. I didn’t care. I wasn’t his. I was this star’s. I was death impending. I was free.

When he was done, I didn’t wait. I plopped upright and walked away naked, forgetting the stupid costume. I wrapped an arm around Gritty’s waist before taking her hand and running off into the night. My bare feet pounded across the wasteland’s floor. The star was coming closer. It would be here soon. I knew this chapter was coming to a close. I was going to end it with her.

We made our way to the edge of the forest.

“Can I unzip you?” I asked Ingrid.

She nodded, smiling, as she turned around and pulled her elegant hair towards her front. It twinkled and wrinkled down her breasts. She was elegance, the form of death that I least expected. I pulled her close and kissed her, enveloping myself in her the way I needed to a week ago. I heard the sounds from the camp as the sun disappeared but the star came closer and illuminated the expanse of earth. I paid them no mind as I danced with Ingrid. Eventually, we became dizzy and fell.

Her hand laid on my bicep, and mine on hers. We stared up to the sky as we had a week ago when we kissed for the first time. The green of the meteor shooting towards us blinded me, but I kept my eyes open. I started to sing quietly as Ingrid’s fingers played at my skin, touching me. “Danke schoen, darling, danke schoen. Thank you for walks down Lover's Lane.”

My voice was awkward, and I didn’t sing in tune. Ingrid rolled into me all the same, shielding herself from the green glow. I wrapped her hair around my finger. This was death. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. She was who I wanted to die with.

“This is what free means to me,” I whispered as she continued to hum the song, taking it for her own.

I could see the details of the rock now. The edges were curved, like the indents of her body. My heart left its cage. It floated above me, blocking out the death rock. This was what was coming to claim me. It sung the song of my soul, repeating back to me the song I had just been singing. It was mine. This was my choice.

The green became more intense. She wrapped herself closer to me. My heart sung louder. This was it. Whatever. Whatever. Whatever.