#there wasn’t a single cross or tiny picture of a saint or anything!!

[oniongrass]

I wish I could just like. Erase all Christian influences from my brain or something. Growing up in a Christian-majority country means I learned so much about the religion I never asked for. And in some ways even worse than the directly Christian stuff is the background stuff. The ways it’s soaked into culture to the point we don’t even notice that some of the things we take as fact are actually only a Christian thing. Like just our whole morality system, which influences our politics, philosophy, legal system, etc. has the idea of sin and repentance at its core. Even when writing fantasy religions, creators automatically make it so the god(s) are not supposed to be questioned and there’s some sort of afterlife system. I can’t think of any other concrete examples because it’s so hard to identify and I’m still unlearning if (but also cuz this is a spur-of-the-moment 1am post.) I know so much about Christianity and my perspective has significantly been shaped by it but the same does not go for my religion! They don’t know shit about it! It’s just upsetting to be non-consensually impacted by another’s religion, likely more than you are by your own religion (and boi doesn’t that cause some feelings of shame and imposter syndrome), while knowing the other side has to deal with none of that and doesn’t even realize how much society caters to them.

[girlwithwolftatoo]

Consecration-Pascal!Priest character (original work)

Father Pascal is in, lost lambs, I hope you’re ready to receive the... blessings.

WARNING: Mild NSFW (mostly indirect sexual situations), hierophilia (can I get an A-MEN?!), original characters and... religious stuff.

Being raised as a catholic may be a headache, specially if you aren’t fond to the religion and rituals most of your family follows the verbatim. Of course, mass was the main event and sometimes preaching could be interesting, but being about forty minutes every Sunday morning in a church to secure your inmortal soul sometimes felt like a high price you weren’t willing to pay. You were a good person according to usual sermons, you helped your neighbor as much as you were able, respected and loved your parents, accomplished lent every year since you remembered and, if you felt like you’ve done some nasty stuff, you went to confession. 

The problem began when the new priest came into your local church, in order to replace old and ill father Colin, which lumbago had forced him to give up and some masses he had to remain on his seat. His replacement was different... much more different than anyone, you included, could have thought. 

The first thing that jumped at the sight was his appearence, younger than father Colin but, in a weird way, ageless, like he could be either in his thirties or fourthies; his complextion didn’t seem hardly built, but neither wasn’t very thin, and sometimes you could notice how the mass robes tauten on his chest and shoulders. No living person with eyes could have said he wasn’t appealing, for even his sharp eyes and hooked nose fit perfectly in his always radiant and kind face. 

Suddenly, masses became the most precious moment of the week. Every Sunday morning you prepared yourself with your best, clean clothes and rushed your parents to get a good sit in the church. As the bells rang, telling people the mass had started, and father Pascal walked between the seats, followed by the usual altar boys, your eyes followed him using as much discresion as you could, so nobody could notice the heat on your face and the red on your cheeks as you traced every movement of that gorgeous man of God in your mind, to use it as a lucky charm through the week. His preaching was always filled with energy and excitement, the strenght of his passion and youth printed on every word and moves from his hands; yes, he talked with his hands as much as with the voice, making the audience dance at his rythm in such way even the usual sleepy heads would turn their whole attention to the man.

Along with his features, father’s hands had became a problem for your futile concentration skills. If you weren’t following his face gestures, you did the same for his hands, yout eyes darting in the big palms, usually showing at the congregation, the thick fingers clenching in the air, pointing at nowhere to remark his words and, of course, doing the sign of the cross when it was appropiate. Those hands were a dream come true, the epitome of grace and  virility, both kind and strong at sight, and the almost tender form he used to hold the communion wafer before sliding it into the parishioner’s mouths... God, it was the best moment of the mass. 

“Going to commune?” your parents asked innocently, unaware of the true feelings boling in your chest as you took your place in the line, hands pressed together in praying position as you were taught in catechism sessions, and kneeling towards the altar as soon as you reached it. 

How would be to kneel for father Pascal? You, walking towards his magnificent figure, head lowered to show your complete submission, and finally, bending your knees to fall over them on the floor, silent and longing, waiting for his voice to command you.

Father Pascal presented the tiny, white wafer. Every time, you felt like truly blessed, and didn’t have enough words to thank the Lord for bringing this gorgeous servant of His to your church. Your eyes met father’s, and you leaned your head in an attempt to hide yourself. It is known God knows people’s heart and what they hide in it, but what if any of your thoughts was powerful enough to permeate through your skin and showed themselves there were the priest could see them? How would he react if he knew the only reason you started to show interest in religion was him? How would you dared to see his face again when you spent most of the mass time creating fantasies involving him?

The father’s hand placed the wafer at the necessary distance for you to take it. You stretched your neck and caught the thin form into your lips, but doing it so further you noticed, for a fractment of second, how your lower lip hit against father Pascal’s finger. You retracted quickly, fighting to not take a look at his brown, warm eyes, and walking back to your place trying to not looked guilty. You kneeled in the padded plank and closed your eyes, pretending to make your pray, when you were actually getting into a new fantasy.

You saw yourself, kneeling on the floor, and listening the father’s preaching that didn’t meant something to you, your cheast moving up and down hard as your breathing became more superficial. You opened your eyes and found yourself facing at father’s belt a black, broad piece of clothing that adjusted around his waist with a strip hanging in front of his right thigh. One man’s hand was holding a golden globet, the one he used to pour the wine for the mass, and the other one reached the back of your neck, pulling your head back so you could see him from below. “Take it, my lamb” he commanded you, pressing the globet’s border against your wanting lips, and you gave a sip to the red, bitter liquid. He kept sliding the wine into your mouth without giving you a single moment to rest and take a breath, but every small nuisance was nothing, as long as you could rejoice in the priest’s hands and becoming his little, sinful plaything.

“Honey?” 

Your mother’s voice dragged you back to reality. People were moving around you, the mass was over, and you just spent the last minutes kneeling in silent like a saint picture. You stood up, ashamed and worried, and your eyes went to the altar one more time. Father Pascal was there, speaking with a few persons and displaying his usual sweet smile. At the moment he moved his head towards you, and your sight met, you saw his smile fade, and a new, disturbing expression on his face. His lips moved, separating from each other, and for a moment you thought he was going to call you out, but then he returned to his normal manners and continued speaking with their interlocutors.

You had to force your feet to move and leave the building. The imprintment of the father’s finger against your lip still felt like fire, and you imagined it was how someone should feel when they were touched by a sacred thing, even if that was an heretic thought, you smiled. You were willing to kiss and receive anything he could hand you, even the keys of hell, even the most sinful piece on Earth, and you would kiss it and worship it in his divine name, the father’s name.

...

Sooooo, I think this can have a sequel perhaps, if you’re interested on it of course. If you have new ideas for this prompt or for another writing, please let me know! 

[fafulous]

Take Me Home (2/5)

Andy Barber x Reader (Post!Defending Jacob)

Summary: After the unfortunate events of the trial and after, a depressed Andy Barber decides to call it quits and start a mundane life far away from Newton. He decides it is best to have a fresh start away from prying eyes and alone, but he never thought his caring neighbor (and her son) would change all of that.

Themes: MAJOR D.J. SPOILERS ((The series is following the BOOK ENDING and not Show)), Sad and soft Andy Barber, Single Mother Reader. Cursing.

a/n: I dedicate this chapter to my LOML @sinner-as-saint​. Happy Birthday Darling! ILY!

Part 1

Warnings: Small Hints of Abuse.

—

It was your full day shift at the library

You still couldn’t stop thinking about that horrid graffiti left out on Andrew’s Garage door. Why would anyone write something so horrific? It is never a common occurrence to accuse someone of being a murderer; Besides, you didn’t even truly know who the man was.

In one of your breaks while sipping on your hot cocoa, your curiosity got the best of you and googled about him. Those amateur press reporters wouldn’t crowd around a random vandalism; you knew something was up.

To your dismay, you came across terrifying articles of his family. Specifically, about his son.

You read about how Andrew Barber, the Local district attorney of the Newton County was found to be tangled in a murder case because of his son. You didn’t bother to read further for the headlines were awful; described how his 14-year-old son was in trial for the murder of his own classmate.

The details were too horrifying. The press reported every court proceeding but you didn’t proceed to read about what happened. Perhaps his son went to jail? Or he was declared not guilty but was separated from his family? You thought how a good handful of weeks passed and he had absolutely no visitors to his house. Best decision you made was to close the articles for it made you sick to the stomach.

Not only did it feel like you were invading on someone’s privacy, it was also not difficult to picture your son in Jacob Barber’s shoes.

You felt bad for the man, you really did. But then you recalled how he questioned your parenting. It takes years to build self-confidence, but just one statement to shatter it all.

It didn’t feel right reading about your neighbour, it felt like you were a stalker. And so, you resumed to stock up and label the new pile of books.

The Librarian desk was placed in such a way that you would immediately know if anyone entered the library. It would normally be teenagers and college go-ers labelled as nerds who would spend hours and hours of studying and reading. But this time, the one approaching your desk was the last person you ever wanted to see.

Nikolai’s father.

A week ago, Chad did make an appearance into your life out of the blue, asking you to take him back. But you couldn’t for you believed in two things: Your self-respect wasn’t weak, and that Nikolai didn’t deserve a pathetic excuse of a father. After you found out about his infidelity, you mentally decided not to take him back and that was a final decision.

You dropped whatever you were doing and made a beeline to Chad. “You can’t drop in during work like this.”

Quarter of an hour perhaps was spent on arguing back and forth in whispers. You will never deny that how it would be perfect for Nikolai to grow up with a father, but you kept reminding yourself not to give in to him.

“Listen Y/N. I really am sorry for barging like you on this. I want to make things right. “

“You can’t Chad,” you whispered, “I can’t. It is not fair to Nikolai and to me. Just go.”

Chad suddenly pushed you back to one of the bookshelves by gripping your shoulders. His shoulder touches were something that he used to do to offer you comfort at times of distress. But now this was causing you stress.

He gritted his teeth. “Why can’t you just fucking take me back?”

“Because I wasn’t the one who slipped into my co-worker’s vagina!”

Before you realised Chad was going to get unpleasant with you, another familiar voice interrupted the small run-in.

“Hey everything alright?”

You turned around to the stern voice only to see your neighbour, Andrew. You were fixated on him to the point where you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

He looked so handsome.

He was wearing a formal dark navy suit, his tie almost matching his hair colour. His hair and beard were neatly groomed with just a hint of messy. His beautiful trench coat accentuated his arm muscles. He did look like a textbook District Attorney.

Andy on the other hand exchanged looks between the both of you, glaring at the man who dare pushed you back against the bookshelf. He got near to them which made Chad leave his grip and take a few steps away from her.

Chad continued the conversation with you without acknowledging the intruder’s existence. “I’m going to leave now. Think about it. I’ll come in a few days to pick up Nikolai.” He soon left, making sure he didn’t make eye contact with the formal dude who seemed to be much taller to him.

Andy approached you cautiously while your hand pressed the wrinkles off of your shoulders. “Couldn’t help but hearing the whole co-worker slipping into your vagina statement. That man your ex?”

Dealing with two arrogant men simultaneously was not something you signed up today. “Be careful Mr. Barber, the attorney in you is showing.”

Andy stiffened his shoulders but did not let go of his grin. He liked a woman who was snappy, especially when he has seen the caring side of you. “So, you know about me?”

“I can take care of myself,” deflecting from his question. You didn’t want to admit about your slip up that you read about him from an online article. “You didn’t have to do that whole saviour stunt on me Mr. Barber,” you walked away from him, heading outside the library to catch a breath of fresh air. Andy followed you like a puppy would.

“You didn’t have to do it alone too, Miss”

You noticed how he didn’t call you formally. “Andrew, I told you I-I am never going to have a conversation with you ever.”

“I know I know.” He paused and you crossed your arms, waiting for him to say something while you admired the beauty of his trench coat on his frame.

“I need to talk to you.”

“I’m busy. M-my shift ends in an hour.”

“I can wait.”

“No Andrew, my car is in the repairs and I’m bailing on my assistant to drop me home-“

“I can drop you. We literally live next to each other. Please Y/N,” He neared you, anxiously looking over at you, “Give me this tiny speck of a chance.”

You stood there trying to pull off a stern look, trying so hard not to display you inhaling his musky cologne that made you excited. Who would’ve thought you would fall for a meanie who just had a pair of needy, blue eyes?

“Alright fine,” you said giving in. “Read a book or something inside.”

Andy was happy at his sweet victory.

In that time Andy decided to look through the well-ventilated library. It was quite spacious, his senses hitting with the smell of old books and natural pesticides to keep the books from deteriorating. There were enough tables for people to sit and read at their leisure. He even recognized familiar books he used to read with Laurie every night. It was an intimate ritual for them; so eventually for the past few months, he gave up on reading.

Andy then noticed you scuttling around for a while till you plopped on your desk. Your work attire was silk white blouse with a yellow pencil skirt. There was a strut of confidence every time you took a step or gave orders to her assistant. 

Neither of you would deny the lingering glances you gave each other in that time.  

An hour passed and both of you stood outside near his beautiful black car.

“What is it Andrew?”

“I wanted to sincerely apologize to you. This is not right I know. I know I’ve hurt your feelings and this apology doesn’t even cover it. I stepped out of line many times even though you remained to be kind to me.”

You puffed out a breath of air. Judging by the tone of his voice, you knew the man before you were being sincere.

“Just let me make it up to you one day at a time please. It would kill me if I didn’t do anything.”

“Y-you don’t have to anything Mr. Barber. Its just-“

“I know take your time. I hope we could hit the refresh button excluding the part where I make it up to you.”

“Yeah no um- I also owe you another thanks for helping back at the Library- uh Chad? The bloke you interrupted me with?”

Andy nodded. “It was nothing really. So, can we start fresh?” He extended his hand to you and a firm handshake was exchanged.

“Apology accepted I suppose.”

Soon you found yourself in Andy’s car, who was kind to even open the door for you. Chivalry isn’t dead. 

For now.

The ride back was quiet, you observing in the interiors of the sleek black car. The seat felt so comfortable, along with the man beside you. A comfortable silence prevailed the drive back home, Andy popping in superficial questions about your work and Nikolai and vice versa. 

“So any plans for tonight?”

“Nikolai wanted to watch a Disney movie tonight with some Chicken Lasagne. Oddly, specific I know but kids these days, right?”

“Yeah.” You noticed how his face fell slightly and so you tried to change the topic. “What about you?”

“The usual. Netflix and Takeout. Trying to cut on the beer though you know with the new job and all.”

“Thanks for the drive back home Mr. Barber.”

He took this as a good sign. “From now on you can call me Andy.”

“Listen Mr. Barber- Andy I have to get something off of my chest. “

Andy unbuckled his seat belt and faced you, unsure of what she wanted to say. “Sure please, go ahead.”

“Okay Andy. I just want to clear the air that only know about you as an attorney because my curiosity irked me after your whole garage shed incident. I didn’t dig much because I felt like the inner me was being like a creep.”

He raised his eyebrows heart slightly sinking that you had already become the judge of his character. “So, you do know about me then?”

“Not more than how your son was involved in a murder trial,” you fumbled. “I don’t know the outcome and I don’t know why I am telling you all of this oh my god.”

Andy chuckled to see you covering your face in embarrassment, feeling a little relieved to know that you didn’t have much of an idea of who he was. He reassured her that it was completely fine, and you saw you going back home.

The next couple of days went smoother for both you and Andy. After a week it seems you and Andy always left home for work at the same time, passing casual morning greetings…which you had to do by successfully covering your blush because he never failed to look nothing less than good looking even though he was now just a swimming instructor.

Andy told you that day he apologized to you at the library was the day when he gave in an interview for the Swimming Instructor position opened at the community gym. He said it was something he used to do in his free time, and he wanted to give it a shot

You weren’t even surprised to find your mind in the gutter when you thought about Andy in skin-fit Speedos that stuck to his thick thighs and broad back. Or would he just wear trunks? You smacked your head; this what happens when the last time you got laid was two years back…

No offense to your expensive vibrator.

Andy would drop you to work if you didn’t feel like it and pick you up too. He even would take Nikolai alone for car rides which he enjoyed.

“Mommy! Wandi car go zooooom!”

He once popped into the library telling you that he would like to be a member. You would have never thought that this man was a bookworm. He soon told you how he used to have a habit of reading a book every night and now that he wants to revive it.

Normally for new inquisitive children or young adults who wanted recommendations to begin the practice of reading was handled by your assistant, Tracy. You weren’t surprised when Tracy was almost proactive when she saw Andy. But to the utter dismay of your assistant, Andy wanted to hear it from you.

Its not like you won a battle with your assistant, but you happily concurred with you head held high. He wants me. (You smacked yourself mentally again, jealousy is an ugly stain).

“How do I know you’re not bluffing Andy?” you whispered.

“Hey hey,” he leaned nearer to your ears. “I’m new to this place and I want a couple of books and recommendations that’s all. It can get lonely at home sometimes.”

As Andy and you spoke over books, you saw he had no shred of the hostility he had in these past few weeks. Andy also noticed how you looked much more comfortable than you were initially. For the both of you a new friendship was blooming.

For now.

“What kind of books are you into Mr. Barber?”

“Well I was the thriller and mystery kind, but things have changed, looking for a change rather. Nothing old sticks on to me now.”

“Ah yes. Every reader has that phase and I have just the solution.”

He was almost puzzled when you took him to the young adults section and handed over two books or rather two parts of a beautiful story.

“Harry Potter? Isn’t that a children’s book?”

“Objection your honour!” You went on to tell him the premise of the books without spoiling much for him. It suddenly struck him that Jacob had these books at home too. But he was able to push the twinge away when he hears your sweet whispers of excitement. He did complain he has watched the movies but the bookworm in him knew that books are always better than the movies.

“Okay okay! Objection is sustained.” He laughs. A genuine laughter after what seemed like eons.

You didn’t want the conversation to end. It felt refreshing to talk to Andy and so you felt generous.

“You can drop the usual food takeout today yeah? When was the last time you had home cooked meal?

Andy thought for a while. “An awfully long time Y/N. It’s okay-“

“Dinner is at my house. No excuses.”

Andy found a little purpose to be excited in life.

–

On Mondays, Andy comes home with a bottle of wine to beat the heat of a horrid Monday morning.

On Tuesdays and Thursdays, Andy flaunts his cooking skills to you and Nikolai. Surprisingly, he has not lost his touch over cooking. He loved it how the little boy gets the food names all jumbled up and how, much to your embarrassment, he would ask him for food requests. Can we have Pawsta and bwed? Or Can we have spwagety?

Wednesdays and Fridays, Andy chilled out on your sofa having a tea party or fighting an alien invasion with Nikolai while you effortlessly cooked to your delight.

It’s almost become a ritual over as the weeks go by. Andy and you talk a lot, but never about each other. Both of you talk about books, or debate over politics or even talk about movies.

It was in these nights when both of you unintentionally spills the beans of your past.

First was Andy when was discussing about how he loved the Harry Potter books you suggested that the waterfall of backstories began. After dinner got over both of you sat on your couch talking about the day’s work, while Nikolai fiddled with toys on the cushioned chair. He mentioned how Jacob had these books.

“Who is Jacob?”

Andy looked ahead at Nikolai sitting at one of the comfort chairs with a couple of his figurines while his eyes fought with slumber, “My son.”

“Oh, how is he? Is he with his mother now?”

Maybe it was too soon to ask. You literally saw with your own eyes how Andy’s eyes drooped, and his figure slumped before you. It even became confusing when he shook his head slightly sideways.

Realising you may have overstepped a line, you tried to steer the conversation to another direction, but Andy blurted it out as if he needed to remind himself the truth.

“Jacob died in a car accident and his mother is in prison for the very same.”

Whispering a oh my god underneath your breath while covering your mouth didn’t stop your eyes from pricking with tears.

Andy narrated the events of the trial briefly while he grabbed the bottle of wine drinking from it directly, not getting in too detail. He mentioned how his son was dropped of all the charges and how after one vacation, everything changed. He mentioned how his now ex-wife successfully attempted to kill Jacob in a car crash because she was convinced that her son was the actual murderer.  

Andy was numb to this story (the kinder version where you didn’t know he was the son of the murderer Billy Barber) and he didn’t realise the kind of reaction it would evoke from someone who had no idea about his past. Guess he was surrounded with nosy people all his life until now.

He internally panicked to you see your tearful state.

“Andy I’m so sorry.”

In an instinct you pulled Andy to you, arms wrapped around his shoulders in a hug. Andy needed a hug so bad he may have wrapped his arms around you an inch closer while he rubbed your back in assurance. He heard your small sniffles, which made him hug you tighter.

His hoarse reassuring whispers that he was alright made you even more devastated. “Hey look Y/N. I am alright okay?”

You pulled away from his embrace in embarrassment. Andy’s heart was hard as a rock, he gave you a half-hearted smile, “God I’m such a fool sometimes. Quick to come to conclusions. I shouldn’t have been so judgmental.”

“If you’re forgetting that was me a couple of weeks back.” His gently touched your cheeks wiping a tear or two away. “Hey come on now. Tears don’t suit you momma bear.”

“So, I’m a bear now huh?”

A little giggle came out of your lips and Andy felt warm. Your mind was fluttering as Andy still stroked your cheek with his thumb. You never realised could be so soothing until a worried Nikolai tried to scramble up on both of your laps.

“Mommy why you cwying?”

“Nothing peaches. Its just-“

“I ate your mommy’s cookies Nikolai,” Andy interrupted earning a dramatic gasp from the little boy while you stifled your laughter.

“Its okay Wandi. Mommy you can take the cookies fwom my jahr. Don’t cwy mommy”

After a series of awws from the two adults, Nikolai went back to his toys. It was time for Andy to leave, standing on the threshold of your house.

“This fresh start is not happening for me at all Y/N. You have been such a wonderful person entertaining me these nights but, I still can’t sleep you know. It’s haunting.”

“Andy,” you still sniffed. “The minute the garage incident was over, that was the minute you stepped away from prying eyes. No one is going to bother you now Andy. You can start fres, infact I think you already did. You bagged a Swimming Instructor shift at the local gym, you have got a new house and most importantly, or not, is that you have Nikolai and Me.

“We all have skeletons in our closet Andy, that’s the unfortunate truth. Its not going to be easy but life has to go on because little do you know you have people depending on you.”

Andy knew you were referring to Nikolai, but for him he had no one depending on him. What was the point of moving on?

“Good night Y/N”

He only left the threshold after he realised you had placed a kiss on his cheek and gave him a hug on your tiptoes.

Another night, it was your turn.

Andy soon realised Nikolai wasn’t anywhere around the house. The toys were neatly placed, and the Television wasn’t running. Music was playing from your phone, but it was low and from the smell of it, you were cooking Chicken Lasagne, Nikolai’s favourite dish.

“Where is Niko? Is he sleeping?”

“He is with his father and the grandparents.”

The dinner went awfully quiet, sure he tried to sneak conversations here and there, but he wasn’t able to hold it. He learned how you decided to actually listen to Chad’s wishes under the conditions that his grandparents would be around. Andy saw your little smile when he learned that Nikolai was extremely reluctant to go with his father. A rational side of you didn’t want to separate Nikolai from his father.

It was while you were flipping through the channels that you broke out like a dam.

“You know Andy, what you heard that day in the library was the truth you know.”

“Niko’s father Chad?”

“It was Nikolai’s first birthday. We were all gathered at home for a small birthday party. Chad and I called in our co-workers that day. In the name of this little one everyone began drinking by around four when we scheduled the party at six.”

Andy noticed how you sardonically laughed in between.

“Before we could cut the cake, I went in search of Chad because Niko wouldn’t cut the cake without him. So, I went around searching for him because I remember Chad was kind of drunk. And then I find him in our room fucking his co-worker while he screamed her name.”

You looked below and began fidgeting with your fingernails. “The next half an hour went in a haze. The guests left. Chad and I went hysteric. We were at each other’s throat. I screamed at him and Chad somehow became sober and began to um- hit me uhm-“

You were breaking and Andy didn’t want to ask you to stop narrating. You must have trusted him enough to talk about something that you evidently found traumatic. Andy scooted closer and took your palms in his hands.

“And I didn’t even realise how I was scarring Niko. He was sitting on the couch all alone scared at our hysterics. In that half hour I- I- forgot about him. The guests were gone, and he didn’t cry. Niko just sat there with his beady eyes clutching his figurines, looking at me in horror after that bastard went up to his room like nothing mattered. I’m the reason for Nikolai’s state.”

“Hey what state Y/N?” Andy stroked your cheek; the lines of formality were blurred between you two. Right now, it was just one soul comforting another in a time of agony. “Nikolai is such perfect child. I have never seen such a brilliant three-year-old in my life.”

You whimpered, “N-Niko hates birthdays. The sight of candles on a cake make him cry and disturbed. H-his nursery is left incomplete because he has these terrible nightmares when he is left alone. He comes crying in horror even if I try to let him sleep alone for once. He always sleeps with me. W-what if I damaged him Andy? Wh-what if he likes his father more in this visit? What if he leaves me?”

You sobbed uncontrollably into Andy’s chest. He didn’t hesitate in cradling you and stroking your hair. He pulled you closer, leaning back at the couch. He waited for your crying to die down.

“You’re such an amazing mother darling,” he whispered, the loving nickname going unnoticed because it seemed so right, “So caring, so kind. Nikolai loves you, you know that right?”

He felt you nodding your head at his chest while none of you bothered to acknowledge how both of your legs were intertwined now. Andy scooted lower on the sofa, lying down with you still cradled to him.

“Chad was a fucking scoundrel okay? Anybody would have reacted like that like you did.” Andy gritted his teeth when he recalled that he hit you but suppressed his emotions because his emotions wasn’t important now. “Nikolai is going to be simply fine. When he comes back, he’s going to run into your arms and say how much he missed you and then proceed to ransack the living room with his toys.”

That genuinely made you laugh. You didn’t want to let go of Andy. His cologne was calming. His sweater shirt was soft. You even felt his little belly; he did mention he was drinking a lot of beer and whiskey when he can’t sleep in the night. It felt so intimate; it felt so right in spite the fact the neither of you are dating.

“You’re a good man Andy.”

Andy places a chaste kiss on your forehead. He saw your cheeks scrunch up, like you were blushing. His lips felt soft on your forehead, a warmth running through the both of you. Andy decided to leave but your grip on his meant something else. Looking down, he felt your soft breaths on his neck now for you tucked your head on his neck. You must be clingy he wondered, but he didn’t mind. He needed a dose of clingy looking at his current state of life.

“Good Night Y/N.”

He was supposed to get up slowly and untangle from your limbs and spread a blanket on you before he left. He was supposed to go back inside his house and have another round of sleepless nights.

Not cuddle and have a good night’s sleep peacefully with you in your soft sofa?

–

Finally, Saturdays and Sundays are the lazy days, ironically both of you don’t hang out as much on the weekends for deep inside Andy thought he was invading Nikolai and yours family time.

When Nikolai was back the next day, just like Andy had mentioned, he ran into your arms and kissed you so much. He even hugged you harder and said he didn’t want to go back to his father.

“He’s not like Wandi. Wandi likes tea pawties. Papa says tea pawties is for guhls and not for boys.”

“Peaches that’s not true, you can play tea party any time you want. You can play with me and Andy okay?”

“Yeah okay. Can we play tea pawty inside Wandi’s cahr too?”

“Niko!”

Your little boy also managed to change your mother-son ritual into a mother-son-neighbour ritual. He persisted you into calling Andy for the everyday evening picnic at the lawn. You knew your son loved Andy but a little voice asked if this was too much.

Apparently it wasn’t. Andy was extremely happy to join you and Nikolai. He kept asking if it was okay but a few reassurances later Andy joined you with a jar of  lemonade. “I may have peaked out of the window and seen your daily picnics. None of them have this baby.” (Of course he was talking about his lemonade).

“Mommi look, Wandi made lemonade! Yaaaay!”

He runs over and hugs Andy as tight as his little hands can. 

“I bake this boy five types of cookies and he falls for your lemonade? Blasphemy Andy. What are you doing to my son?” you ask him with feigned wound in your heart.

“Oh Y/N. He’s just found a new friend. Don’t be jealous now.”

Seeing your son and Andy bond made you heart make a little small wish; that Niko and you find a companion like Andy. Wishing for Andy himself is like wishing for a star. Why would this perfect man fall for a broken person like you?

Andy and you spoke while the little boy ran around the lawn with his toys and it was then his senses came alive and he took in his surroundings.

A pink stained sky; clouds imitating to be cotton candy. A beautiful house in a quaint neighbourhood. The faint smell of your warm cookies and refreshing lemonade while your son ran around. A woman of his dreams weaving her palm through the strands of her hair. This was a dreamland.

And in that moment, he scooted near you and he entwined his hands into yours. You were perplexed at what he was doing but you went with the flow. He wanted his utopia.

“Andy? What are you-“

“Y/N, will you go on a date with me?”

After a few minutes later, your answer gave all the reassurance that he finally got his fresh start; that he can finally start a new life without the demons in the closet.

Right?

–

Part 3

–

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[i-did-not-mean-to]

Never say never - Chapter 13

Here's a new chapter of my main story (I forgot to go on posting lol)

Fandom: RPF- Richard Armitage

Characters : OC x RA

Rating : Mature

Warnings : RPF (and factually incorrect and very soppy)

°13° ­~Victoria~

She had expected questions and intrusive crowding, but her friends and their friends, sat motionless around the table still. Victoria saw that they had unpacked every single book and movie she had bought and put them into piles, though she could not discern the logic governing the separate piles.

“Have a nice chat?” Liza asked after a moment of Victoria just standing in the door, wordless, chewing on her lower lip.

Victoria, in turn, gave an assenting grunt and handed Martin back his phone with a grateful smile.

“More information, please?” Angie demanded, crossing her legs, and putting her folded hands upon them like a school mistress ready to listen to the recitation of a particularly hopeless student. Victoria bristled.

She had to dig her heels into the floor to keep herself from turning around and fleeing the room. Adulthood somehow boiled down to the absence of the heavy, constraining hand at the back of her neck, and Victoria had a tendency to bolt every chance that she got. Afterwards, she always felt ashamed because she knew that she had not solved anything by just leaving a situation in which she felt uncomfortable, but she had not learned how to face her instincts and overcome them.

For her, it had always been a matter of being able to follow her reflexes or being forced to go against them.

It pained her to discover that her instincts were all wrong and, what was worse, not only did they neither soothe nor protect Victoria herself, no, they also usually ended up hurting someone else.

“We…we talked. I said he’s welcome to come here if he cares to. He said he’d help me set up any other furniture I might need.” She felt and sounded sheepish, Victoria knew, but she didn’t know how to make that very normal conversation sound like the outrageous exchange of dark confessions the others apparently expected.

“Oh, so I’ve been made redundant? And I had hoped you’d let me watch the movie with you.” Hiddleston winked at her.

Big breath, Victoria told herself, this was good, this was healthy, don’t run, stand your ground.

“You’re welcome here, little fairy-lord. You can come watch the movie with me.” She said in a tiny voice.

“Oh goodie good good, we have made piles of movies we want to watch along with you…on your fancy new TV…” Angie clapped her hands and, finally, Victoria understood the piles. “You naughty girl, you.” Liza laughed.

“Naughty?” Victoria blinked. She did not see why she would be naughty for watching movies. Had her father been right, and they corrupted the impeccable morals he had tried to instil in her? Were movies the devil’s dark corruption after all?

Martin had called it “porn”, she remembered, and a cold shiver ran down her spine.

“What are you talking about? Have I done something wrong?” Panic seeped into her voice now and she was starting to feel a little dizzy. She knew that Liza sometimes made crude jokes, but up to this point, she had never been the butt of these jokes.

“Liza!” Angie hissed, rushing to Victoria’s side to soothe her with shushing noises and tender caresses. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” She said, but Victoria could hear that she was lying, as noted before, Angie was a terrible liar.

“Yeah, low blow, I’m sorry. So, what else does Armitage say?” Liza lifted her hands apologetically and leaned back in her chair, knowing that Victoria would most probably shrink back from her if she was to approach right now.

“He wanted to go over some comments in the script with me. We might meet up if he finds the time. I gave him my number.” Victoria narrated in an emotionless voice; her mind still occupied by the accusation of being a naughty girl.

Angie threw a look at her wife that was so earth-shatteringly severe that Liza didn’t even dare make a face at that. Unfortunately, Jenna had not picked up on it and so, still snacking on the pizza crust, she asked: “Really? You gave him your number? Cute.”

Victoria stared at her for a solid 2 minutes; her mouth was bone-dry, and her tongue seemed to be glued to her teeth. She barely heard the warning hiss Angie gave her employee. Her head was spinning; she was entering territories of supposition and innuendo she was painfully unfamiliar with, and it scared her.

“Cute?” She gasped, feeling the tears of helpless perplexity burn behind her eyes, ready to spill over. Victoria had never given this number to any man, because the last time she had given a man her private telephone number, she had had another number, she had lived in another city, she had led a very different life.

“It’s not like that. It’s professional.” She tried to defend herself weakly. It was true, she had met that man twice in her life, and both times, it had been with Liza in the context of that ludicrous side-job she had accepted to keep busy.

On the other hand, she was a single woman and, as far as she knew, he was a single man. She was a recent divorcee; he had never been married. He had slept with a thousand and one nameless women in his life…and she had only ever had one sexual partner and had never expected having to think about another one.

“Fuck.” She cursed. There were no Saints that came to mind to call upon in this situation. She should have trusted her gut feeling and pull out of this whole story while she was ahead; she should have left this first evening right away and never return to that damn room. She should have kept her door closed tightly.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry…I’m sure that he knows that it’s strictly professional.” Jenna tried to calm her, but her eyes were wide and worried now.

“OH! Will he? I’ve invited the man into my home, haven’t I? Like Delilah to Samson, oh Lord…” Victoria groaned, all of her compounded trauma harrowing her to the brink of tears once again. What would he think of her? Did he believe that she wanted to throw herself at him like a common prostitute? Did he expect that? Would he be violent if she refused?

If he thought that her intentions had been indecent, surely, he would not try to contact her in any way or form, would he?

“Like…Vic, do you intend to seduce him and cut his magic…hair?” Liza mocked, but when she saw the expression Victoria’s face, she fell silent instantly. She waved Hiddleston and Martin aside, feeling that they should not draw attention to themselves.

“Vic,” she pleaded, “look at me, girl. It’s okay, you’re safe. It was a dumb joke, nothing more.”

Liza knew that she had gone too far too fast; Victoria was in her living room while it was dark outside, together with 4 people who were attracted to women and yet, she had only made the connection once Armitage had been mentioned.

Devout and faithful, Victoria had only ever known the man she had married, in the biblical sense, and it had been overzealous of her to believe that she might take another lover so easily. There were too many things to unravel before.

“What have I done?” Victoria sobbed and the dam broke; hot tears broke their way out of her system, and she cried pitifully for a few minutes straight, shaking so much that her teeth clattered as if she was standing naked in the snow.

“Victoria? Is there anything I can do for you? You can talk to me.” Hiddleston offered and his calm demeanour managed to pacify her enough to shake her head slowly. “I have acted abominably. I…just can’t do anything right.” She croaked.

“That is not true. You’ve been frightened and overwhelmed at first, but you’ve been a kind hostess tonight. We had fun this afternoon, didn’t we? What is it that upsets you so?” Hiddleston took her hands and brushed his thumbs lightly across them in slow, gentle circles.

“What does that poor man think of me now? He will believe I am completely insane!” Victoria lamented, tears still running down her cheeks in regular intervals. “No, he won’t. He’s not a monster. We all can see that you’ve been through some things, but we’re here to make it better. And, as you said, it’s strictly professional. I’m sure he knows that.”

Hiddleston exchanged a look with Martin. Richard knew, but that didn’t prevent him from maybe hoping that one day, it wouldn’t be so. As far as one could make any assumptions based on Victoria’s erratic behaviour, she seemed half scared to death that it might turn into something that wasn’t all that professional anymore as well.

“You’ve had a stressful day, why don’t we leave you alone? I’m surprisingly free the next few days, so if you want me to, I can swing by tomorrow and while I go have my picture taken, you can choose some more furniture. And then, we finish the movie? What about that?” He coaxed her into calming down until a puffy face and a pathetic hiccup were all that remained of her passionate outburst. “Yes, I’d like that. We can go have cakes in the afternoon?” Victoria replied.

It was easy to like Hiddleston, and that discovery surprised and amazed her. He was kind and unobtrusive; he had a good sense of humour, and, most importantly, she was in no way attracted to him.

Oh, he was glorious, there was no denying that, but he reminded her too much of that friend she had dreamt up as a child – when she had lain in bed, lonely as can be – to be in any way titillating to her. He made her wish that she wasn’t an only child; he made her long for siblings, for someone to go to for advice and solace.

Never would she look at him like Jenna did: with big, longing cow-eyes that were starry with wordless adulation.

Vic’s mind slammed on the brakes again. Jenna did stare at that man like he had literally just fallen from the sky and, when Vic had proposed to go to the tearooms, her breath had stumbled for a second there.

Jenna had a crush on Liza’s friend.

Victoria was utterly baffled. Were things that easy in the normal world? Did people just meet someone handsome and kind, and then allowed their heart to leap into their eyes? Victoria could not fathom being that brazen and reckless.

“He’s right. Let’s retreat. I’m sorry, Vic.” Liza shooed the others out of the room. “Good night, dear Victoria. Thanks for the pizza. I hope we can be friends now.” Martin spoke gently as if to a sick child or to a fretful mare.

“Sorry for being such a mess. Yes, sure we can be friends. Thank you so much for the poppets.” She picked them up gingerly as she followed the others out of the room and turned off the lights in the living room.

“Not the kind of plastic dick people usually keep next to their bed.” Liza mumbled under her breath, which made Victoria skewer her with a scandalised, speechless look. “Sorry, it was too good to miss out on. You know, because…”

Victoria lifted her eyebrows in an expression of annoyed impatience; the joke went completely over her head.

“Richard is abbreviated Dick. You know…” Liza wagged her head from side to side to make very clear that she was only making a very tasteless joke and not attacking Victoria in any way. “Funny.” Victoria commented, her face so stern and forbidding that she would have given Armitage and Macfadyen a run for their money.

“They will not be kept next to my bed…once I get the proper décor for them.” Victoria then snarled. “Décor?” Martin was interested by that comment, his hand on the doorhandle already but his face turned to Victoria, eager to hear how she would proceed.

“I guess I’ll have to go to the pet shop to get a proper set-up where they’d feel at ease.” Victoria shrugged.

“They’re inanimate dolls.” Liza cried out, horrified at the idea that her friend would procure a cave and a hobbit-hole for two toys. “They’re the only friends I have now.” Victoria shot back with a dark smile.

“Ah, come on. I love you, girl. You know that I love you, don’t you? I’d never want to do you harm.” Liza smiled warmly, hugging Victoria to her chest, and breathing in her warm, clean smell. “Go to bed.” She breathed and left.

And so, Victoria went upstairs with her poppets, laying them gently on the pillow next to hers before getting ready for bed. She brushed her hair and her teeth, applied creams and serums, and put her clothes in the laundry basket…only to return to an empty bedroom. For all anybody cared, she could have gone to bed dirty and dishevelled; nobody would ever have known.

Shaking her head, she dispelled those thoughts forcefully. She had made progress today, she had opened her home to other people, and she had taken two different, hasty, and informal meals with them. She was not sure that her friends were aware of the fact that she had never lived alone before in her life and that those experiences were completely new to her, but she felt the excitement of having had acquaintances over.

A couch, she would buy a proper couch for her little sanctuary so more people could come and enjoy movies with her.

She was on the right track, she could feel it, and so she fell asleep, her poppets next to her, with a blissful smile.

~Richard~

He was an idiot. He had nothing to do the next few days, but he had made it sound as if he was terribly busy.

She had assumed that, and he had been too proud to clear the misunderstanding up, which made it only fair that now, the ball was in his court, and he would have to contact Victoria to plan a…meeting.

He would not call it a “date”, because first of all, it wasn’t a date, and second, he didn’t want to play into the hands of Martin and Elizabeth who had been aiming for that kind of thing apparently.

She had sounded breathless but not as hostile as before tonight. She had given him her number and he couldn’t stop fidgeting with the paper; by now, he had saved her number in his phone and on his laptop, just in case that he reduced the poor note to dust by handling it so much.

What would he say though? Should he give her a call or just text? He had said he’d text her, but he wanted to be on the phone with her again; it seemed that they were doing alright on the phone even though she frequently checked out of the conversation to talk to other people.

By now, the others were certainly gone…No, he would not call her again when he had nothing new to tell her. He wondered if she would have reached out if she had his number; women were usually better at that than men.

Sexist, cool, he was going insane at a rapid pace. Pictures of her, kneeling on the floor and praying to her various saints to protect her from whatever it was that haunted her so, rose inside his mind; he wondered if she slept in long, flowing, weirdly anachronistic nightgowns or if she went to bed in an old ratty sweatshirt. Both had their own appeal.

God, it was late, and his mind was wandering in all the wrong directions. He would not think of her in bed, he had no reason or right to do so, she had not given him any cause or encouragement to take that path down a very slippery slope, but he could not forget the small moans he had caught now and again.

Of course, they might have been groans of exasperation and impatience, but even so, there was something within him, deep beneath the parts of his mind he had any control over, that had responded ferociously to the breathless sound.

Maybe, he should just get it over with and send her one of those texts that only informed her of his number…

[paper-stars-and-fireflies]

Tell me, should I let you go?

Tags: RadioDust, Trans!Angel Warnings: Drug Use, Addiction Fic was inspired by the song Sober by Bad Wolves. Listen while you read!      Angel Dust woke up in his bathtub, again. His neck hurt from being bent forward overnight, and his back and joints all ached from the cramped spaces and unnatural angles. At least the cool tile felt nice. Dizziness washed over him as he tipped his head back, trying to right his world, and soon after he was scrambling for the toilet, dry heaves wracking his frame. He spit, if just to relieve the nausea, and settled back against the wall, one arm feebly reaching for the vanity. There was a snuffling and scraping sound and all of a sudden Angel’s lap was full of pig, his pet bounding back and forth across him, desperate for attention.

    “Be easy on daddy, now,” Angel moaned, scooping up the pig and cradling him. The nausea was ebbing slightly, but not enough. He turned his head, coughing and hacking into the toilet again. Just holding Fat Nuggets felt like too much, but Angel managed to claw and stumble his way to his feet. His reflection looked worse than he felt, mascara and eyeliner dripping down his cheeks and his eyes red around the edges. His throat felt scratchy and a fresh wave of dizziness had him stumbling forward into the sink.     “Saint’s sake, am I still drunk?” he mumbled, fumbling for his toothbrush. His mouth tasted like sugar and stomach acid, and it took him twice as long to get himself looking presentable, crumbled clothes aside. The dizziness and nausea had more or less left him to fester, but the lights felt too bright and a migraine had settled behind his left eye. He matched his steps to the slow pulse of his head, wobbling around his room as he unceremoniously stripped out of yesterday’s clothes and pulled on a fresh shirt and shorts. He had no plans to go out, so he didn’t bother getting too dolled up. He checked his phone, but there were no messages, not from work, not from his family, not even from Alastor. Probably for the best, even though he was craving a few sweet words this morning. Better to lay low and not let anyone realize how he was. There were empty bottles and plastic cups, and evidence of the fun that was wreaking so much havoc on him this morning scattered around the room. He cleaned it all up, burying it in his trash so no one would find it later. He should feel ashamed, maybe, drinking, smoking, maybe even popping a pill or two, but it wasn’t such a big deal. Just a couple drinks, a smoke, a couple pills. No one had to know, and he’d been so good. They had to give him that.     This was just one of those, whaddaya call’em? Cheat days. It was just a lil treat. One time thing. He placated himself, shoving off the bits of shame and regret crawling under his skin. Angel settled into his bed, Fat Nuggets happily curled up against him, grumbling as he thumbed through the TV channels. It made his head hurt that much more, but frankly he’d take that over the silence, in the room or in his head. He scratched idly at the inside of his arm, only glancing down when he realized he’d picked at a scab. A very new one.     He swore, tearing tissues out of their box, knocking over everything else on the nightstand. Angel dabbed at the tiny wound, peering closer. It was definitely a needle mark, and not the only one. He yanked down on the sleeve of his shirt, casting furtive glances around his room. It was fine, it was okay. It would be gone in a couple hours, a day top. It was tiny. No one had to know he hadn’t just fallen off the wagon, that he’d jumped headfirst. It was fine. He just had to stay home, lay low one day, be extra careful from here on. He crouched by the bed, picking up the things he’d knocked over. A couple framed pictures of his friends, another of him and Alastor dressed up in silly Valentine’s themed costumes. They’d thrown a party back in February for his six months sober celebration. There was a lopsided stuffed deer, a prize Al had won for him at Hell’s carnival, back on one of their early dates. When Fat Nuggets had torn it up one night, Al had hushed him, stitching it up and adding a few personal touches, showing him anything could be repaired. He set everything back up neatly. No biggie. This was something else that could be fixed. No big deal. Definitely not, until there was a knock at his door.     “Angel? You okay?” Charlie’s innocent voice was the last thing he wanted to hear, but he heaved himself onto his feet and stumbled to the door as fast as he could manage, leaning against it to hold it shut.     “Just peachy, dollface. Ya need something?” he called through the door, making sure all the locks were on. He pushed the chain lock all the way across, quieting the metal with his fingertips.     “You’re late for your check-in session, I was making sure you were up.”     “Check-in?”     “Did you forget? Today’s the 5th, you were supposed to meet me downstairs an hour ago.” Charlie’s voice was picking up a suspicious edge he didn’t like. Of course today would be a check in. How had he forgotten that? He was so careful, making sure he’d clear his appointments so he could live pretty freely under the radar.     “Sorry doll, I, uh, just over-slept. Stayed up too late….watching too many movies!” He bit at his lip, not buying his own excuses. Clearly, she wasn’t either.     “Angel, let me in. I want to make sure you’re okay.” She insisted. Angel huffed, putting on his usual demeanor. It wasn’t like he didn’t have practice faking it.     The door swung open abruptly, revealing Angel in his t-shirt and sports shorts, a button down shirt only partially blocking out the pride pun printed on his shirt in pastel colors. The sleeves hung down to half-way down his forearms, carefully folded. Charlie studied him, suspicion and confusion warring across her face.     “Something wrong, doll? I was in the middle a somethin.” He tried to hurry her along, one arm braced against the door frame. The injured arm was tucked against his back, the elbow carefully hidden with the cuff.     “I’ve just never seen you dressed like that.” Charlie finally admitted, staring at his chest. He shifted uncomfortably, wondering if the shirt looked wrong on him. Finally, she smiled, pointing at it. “I like your shirt. It’s good to cope through positive humor.” Angel glanced down. ‘The first gender’s free,’ the pink text read. ‘Too bad I needed a refund’, the white and blue text finished. He laughed with her, but it felt stuck in his throat. He could feel sweat breaking out on the back of his neck.     “So look, can we reschedule the uh, check-in, doll?” He tried to keep his voice steady, his smile wide. Charlie waved one hand, still giggling.     “Sure, sure,” she called, turning away. “I’ll see you after lunch then, my office. Bye Angel!”     Oh sugar honey. Angel bit his lip, keeping his internal screams to himself, willing himself to shut the door calmly and muffle his impending break-down in a pillow.     By two in the afternoon, Angel had scrubbed himself head to toe, made sure his makeup was flawless, perfumed, eaten, drank, anything and everything to beat back last night’s demons and act the part of the perfectly adapted, normal, and completely clean Angel Dust he’d been becoming the last eight or so months. ‘Just one quick meeting, no big deal,’ he kept reminding himself. He sauntered into Charlie’s office, plopping down into the chair opposite her desk, checking his nails to keep up his bored act. The marks on his arm were all but gone now, but there were still a few nagging symptoms of a come down he hadn’t quite chased off yet. Charlie shut the door behind him, part of her pledge to privacy, and sat across from him, separated by a massive wood desk that was definitely made for one of her parents. She just looked tiny, sitting behind it.     “Okay! So, we are… just shy of one year! How are you feeling today?” Charlie consulted her paperwork, searching around for her pen as she spoke. It was the one she’d taken from Katie Killjoy, way back at the hotel’s launch.     “Same ol’, bored as hell, but doin’ my best. Clean, nice, and well-adjusted.” Angel ticked off on his fingers, reciting the three goals Charlie pushed all of her patrons towards. She hummed, clicking the pen a few times before she began to take notes. She probed at him with the usual list of questions, asking about his recent activities, work, friends, mood, and how he was coping and feeling about each of the problems he’d mentioned in previous meetings. He could see she’d drawn his shirt in the margins. ‘Piece. Of. Cake.’ he congratulated himself, standing up and starting to excuse himself. He’d made it through the full hour without a single slip up.     “Sit back down, Angel.” Charlie scolded, setting her page down flat. She dropped the pen, eyeing the chair when he didn’t. He sighed, plunking back down.     “What’s up, boss?” He asked, arms crossed. Charlie reached over the desk, yanking his sleeve up before he could stop her.     “I knew it.” she hissed, sitting back in her chair, hands wrapped around her elbows, arms pressing flat against her ribs. “Angel, you’re not even close to clean.”     “What! That’s playing dirty! I am! Well, I was. Definitely was! I was being a super good boy, but then, I dunno, something happened, and then I guess I made a mistake last night, and then I guess, I dunno. A lot happened last night, an’ I don’t remember none of it, but I swear! I was clean until yesterday! I’ll get it back!” He wasn’t being completely truthful, he’d been sneaking drinks and hits of whatever coworkers had on hand while he was at work, but he definitely couldn’t tell her that, and he really had been cutting back… Why couldn’t he remember last night?     “Angel, you’ve come to check-ins still stoned before, just… stop.” Charlie pinched the bridge of her nose, blowing out a breath. “Last night, Alastor brought you home from Val’s. You were a huge wreck. He took you upstairs, but you started screaming at us and locked yourself in your room.” She paused, looking up at him, willing him to say something, but Angel, for once, had nothing.     “Have you ever told me the truth?” Charlie sighed, pushing herself to her feet. She circled the desk, opening the door with a resigned, defeated look. Angel frowned, knowing he was the cause, but not how to fix it. Getting high at work wasn’t surprising, but to get totally wrecked wasn’t right. Angel shuffled, thinking he was being dismissed, but what happened next was so much worse.     Alastor walked in, face blank and perfectly schooled into place. Charlie retook her seat, gesturing to the open chair beside Angel. Al took it, not looking at him. He just stared straight ahead, completely zoned out.     “Angel, you were already on your last warning before this. Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Charlie tried again. Angel opened his mouth, starting over with what he’d already tried, but it fell on deaf ears. Neither Charlie or Alastor so much as twitched as he tried spinning line after line, trying for pity, sympathy, humor, anything. When she couldn’t take anymore, Charlie shook her head, scribbling away on a sheet of paper. Angel couldn’t make out the words, no matter how desperately he wanted to. It felt like his whole head was throbbing and the room was spinning. How hot was it in here anyway? He shoved his sleeves up, already caught out. It was hard to catch his breath, he slumped forward, tempted to put his head between his knees. Were his ears ringing, or was that Al’s static?     “Angel,” Charlie said, clearly not for the first time. Concern was leaking into her voice, and he fished himself back out, sitting up, head lolling to one side. Al stayed silent, not offering a hand, a word, even a tune. He had never felt so alone in a room full of people who were supposed to care about him. So much for that.     “Angel, I have to evict you.” She said finally, sliding the page over to him. “You have to sign this.”     It wasn’t possible to hold back the tears dripping down his face, and just as impossible to figure out why he couldn’t stop. Who cared about the dumb hotel. He had any number of places he could go. Molly had a spare room, if he wanted to go back to the mob. Cherri had a couch, and he’d already thrown his lot in with hers for turf wars. Hell, even Val would take him back and let him live in a studio if he did more videos. Screw the Hotel! Angel growled, throwing his things into duffel bags, ripping his posters off the wall, slamming the drawers closed after emptying them. Fat Nuggets hid under his bed, snuffling sadly, but he didn’t have it in him to apologize yet, even if the pig was innocent. Sometimes he just had to stay angry.     “I would think you wouldn’t want to destroy your own possessions, darling.” Alastor spoke softly from the open doorway, looking around slowly. Angel pouted, looking more pathetic than mad, but he didn’t care. He didn’t notice when Al had gotten there, but it didn’t matter.     “I don’t possess anything. Anything that’s mine gets broke or taken away.” He said pointedly, snatching the pictures off his nightstand. He inspected them, finally dumping them in the wastebasket by the vanity. Alastor blinked, his radio noise some garbled music that was probably supposed to calm his nerves, but they just grated on them more. Angel did his best to ignore him, storming around the room, packing away every possible hint he’d spent a moment in the room. Finally his last nerve snapped, worn thin by his unhelpful, intrusive, cold boyfriend. He snatched the deer plush off his nightstand, the last thing left unpacked, and hurled it at the Radio Demon’s chest. There was sharp feedback as it struck him, like a microphone dropping or a headset being plugged in.     “Would you just get out of here!” He screamed, voice shattering. Alastor looked passively at him, picking up the doll slowly, smoothing its short fur.     “Very well. I will wait for you in the foyer, if you prefer.” Alastor turned, still cradling the deer. “Would you prefer I take Fat Nuggets, or can you manage, love?” His trademark smile drooped, dipping into something smaller, sadder, but sincere, broken-hearted love in an instant. Angel sniffled, dragging his arm across his face. Saints’ sake, his makeup was wrecked all over again.     “Whaddaya talkin’ about?” Angel choked out, grabbing for more tissues. Alastor set the doll down on the bed, coming closer. Angel let him into arm’s reach, but he wasn’t ready to be touched just yet.     “I’m waiting on you, my dear.” Alastor repeated, gesturing to Angel’s bags.     “What for? Ain’t ya done with me for bein’a a dirty wh-” Angel was cut off with a harsh look from Alastor, contempt and scorn he rarely wore. “You’re nothing of the sort. I discussed this very carefully with Charlie last night, I’m very sorry we did not make ourselves clearer.” Alastor fetched the pictures from the wastebasket and looked at them, keeping his hands busy.     “You ain’t breakin’ up wit me?” Angel asked again, eyes wide. But he was sure that Al had been so cold because…     “Never, my love. I would never abandon you over something so trivial.” Alastor set the pictures aside, finally lifted his hands, cupping the spider’s face gently. His gloved thumbs cleared away the last of his love’s tears.     “But you were so….dead?” Angel tried, sniffling again.     “I was so worried about you, darling, I was beside myself. I stayed with you all night, and spoke with Charlie once I was sure you were quite alright by yourself.”     “So Charlie is kicking me out -”     “You’ll be moving in with me, my love.” Alastor spoke softly, eyes downcast. He drew Angel in closer, pulling him to his chest. “Charlie agreed it would be better for you, but to keep it quiet. If that’s not what you want, then-”     “No! No, no no, I, Al, I want that, I just. I don’t get it.” Angel sighed, resting his weary head on Al’s shoulder, four arms wrapped loosely around him. He knew not to hold too tight, or else Al got squirrely. Al drew back, but only slightly. He pressed his forehead to Angel’s, his ears and horns tangling gently with Angel’s hair.     “Addiction is difficult, and it can only be fought with attention and support, not alone, isolated in a hotel room. I’d like to give you that, if you’ll have me.” There was hope, love, faith, and trust in Alastor’s voice, everything Angel had ever wanted, truly wanted, the things he’d tried so long to replace with the high, trying to stuff his feelings with drugs.     “I’m never going to let you go.” Angel answered, new tears prickling at his eyes.     “Let’s go home, my darling.”  

[patricia-von-arundel]

Of Boar & Beast: Part I - The Lucky Charm - 1

Rating: T

Summary: “As though there’s finally someone who understands how I truly feel” - words Marianne never dreamed that she would say; words Dimitri never dreamed that he would hear. Theirs should have been the perfect ending to a perfect love story. But in the inferno of war, endings are so rarely happy ones… 

Crimson Flower Route

The land was barren, endless, and frigidly cold. Rocky, uneven hillocks gave way to expanses of scrubby plain, colorless and shelterless, which in turn rose again: up and down. Up and down. There was no longer a beginning - days long since blurred together in the pulsing, dizzy remains of her mind. A twisted wasteland of twisted trees and twisted reality - and would there ever be a more appropriate place for her twisted soul to remain trapped for all eternity? 

The hubris of coming here at all - she had defied the wills of those who had sacrificed so much for her, and in doing so, likely defied the will of the Goddess herself. Why would the Goddess have placed in her such circumstances, if she was not expected to obey? Here was her proof: disobedience had brought her here, where she would eventually lose what little strength remained. She would curl up against one of those grotesque, stunted trees, and wait to die like an animal.

“Like a beast.” Even her own voice sounded battered by this land - raw and weak. But she could not deny, even to herself, the truth of those words. 

And how often, in the lost expanse of days past, had she longed for such a clean, simple end? How many mornings had she blinked her way from a cold, stiff, trembling doze, and wondered how long she might last if she remained there, rather than once more staggering to her feet and stumbling onward? She could not even be sure she was still going the right way - the map she had stolen from her father showed roadways, not how to traverse the mountains and hills and barren wasteland she had foolishly believed might be the quicker, safer route - so why disappoint herself at the end of another day? Surely the Goddess would not see it as taking her own life, if she succumbed to the cold, the wind, and the desperate emptiness in her belly? The Goddess, of all creatures, would know her incapability of finding success in anything but death. 

More foolishness, and right from the start - her frantic attempt, late in the night as the house slept around her, to gather enough provisions for her journey. She had already taken the map by then, and made clumsy, amateur attempts to figure out just how long she was likely to be traveling. Two or three days, no more, she believed, so she gathered enough food for five - just in case. Two hundred gold from her father’s study - and a solemn, silent vow to him and to the Goddess that she would see it paid back, with extra for the food and for the map, just as soon as she was able.

She would. She would. 

She had left before dawn, not sure how to secure a place on a coach, but determined to do so. Something almost like confidence - until the driver told her the journey she wished to take would cost almost three times the money she had brought. There had been sadness in his eyes - or perhaps it was merely pity. “Sorry, little miss. Never know when the roads might shut down, thanks to the Saints-bedamned Emperor and her war. I got to make a living while I still can, y’understand?”

She tucked the gold back into her bag, looking down and feeling rather ashamed of herself for her assumption. “Yes. I… I understand. I’m sorry.”

It seemed, at the time, only a very small setback. Surely, she could find another option? She considered trying to pay for a ride on a merchant’s wagon - something she knew she had read of in storybooks, as a child - but she wasn’t certain anyone actually did this, or of how to find where a particular merchant was going. She couldn’t very well ask all of them. And if a coach cost almost 600 gold, how much might a merchant charge - more, or less? She didn’t want to risk all the money she had brought. 

So she had decided to at least begin the journey on foot - it was late spring, almost summer, and the air breezy and warm, the sky cloudless. Looking at her map, it seemed possible in the first day to pass through Derdriu and into Daphnel territory, where she could perhaps find a town or village with an inn with a room for the night? Inns were for travelers of all stations, so they must have rooms for a pittance - she would only require a small one, for a few hours’ rest. 

That tiny confidence was with her once more as she set out, then still following the road that began above the Margravate, snaking down the Alliance from the fisheries and textile factories of the north, through the major cities of the central territories, and then all the way to Garreg Mach. The same road she had traveled with her father over a year before - on her way to the Officers Academy. There had not been even this shred of confidence then - only cold, clawing terror, sharp as the talons of the Beast she might become. No matter how many times her father assured her that her Crest would be kept secret, she knew he could not truly guaranty it. If she was lost to the essence within her blood, there would be no way at all to hide it. 

It had not happened. By the goodness and will of the Goddess, it somehow still had not happened. 

But it still could happen. It was time to leave. 

She stopped by an apple orchard for lunch. The trees were just beginning to blossom - she had always liked the little pink-and-white flowers: silken, delicate, and falling so soon. Already, they littered the ground where she sat cross-legged to eat: half a roll, some cheese, and a bit of a little cake. There was a blackbird nest in the crook of one of the trees, and she crumbled the other half of the roll and tossed it where the parent-birds might gather the crumbs, reassuring them softly to take as much as they wished, and see that their babies were well-fed. She smiled, watching them hop and peck. She liked to be able to share. 

But once on the road again, she was faced with the niggling of her first true worry since sneaking into her father’s study the night before: the sun had begun its slow afternoon descent, but she had not yet reached Derdriu, much less gotten through it to the landholdings that would bring her to the border with Faerghus. 

She was going the right way - she knew that much. She had passed things she could remember seeing on the journey to Garreg Mach: an abandoned farmhouse slowly, haphazardly in the process of collapsing to ruin. A roadside tavern with an inexplicably detailed picture of a bright green horse painted on its swinging sign. A field of tulips - only buds, the last time, but now, later in the season, they were in full bloom: like a painting, all vivid reds and purples and yellows. 

But by carriage, the distance from the Edmund lands to Derdriu could be traveled in less than three hours - so why, after twice that, was there no sign of it? A horse was faster than a person, of course, even when pulling a carriage, but a person could keep up with a walking horse at a jog. 

Had she truly miscalculated so badly, already?

She had. She failed to reach even Derdriu, that first day. She finally stopped at an inn in a tiny hamlet of a community, her feet dreadfully sore from exertion, and her head from her growing worry. The cost was a relief - only 30 gold - and the room, though drafty, was comfortable enough. Still, she slept little. She found herself lying still, late into the night, trying to picture the map in her mind, as if that might somehow tell her just where she had gone wrong. It seemed to warp and grow, morphing and twisting against endless darkness, until it bled into sleep, where she dreamed of reaching desperately for the lines of roads as they wiggled away, only to realize they were ropes, and the map was tilting, and she was sliding - sliding towards a bottomless nothingness, no matter how desperately she clawed for purchase against the waxed surface. 

She woke with a startled little gasp, her hands clutching the bed’s threadbare quilt. She gulped down shaky breaths, her eyes blinking rapidly before seeking the meager comfort of the shuttered window, the wan, grey light of dawn seeping through. 

But that second day remained grey, clouds hanging low and heavy, though fortunately the rain held off until late afternoon. By then, she had finally reached Derdriu - just barely. Her legs hurt now as much as her feet, as did her lower back, and her shoulders from carrying her bag, though all it contained, besides the map, money, and food, was a single, warmer change of clothes and her thickest cloak - because she had heard summers in Faerghus could be chilly and damp, and spring still like winter for much of the rest of Fódlan. 

She sought out a room for the night as rain began to fall in earnest - it quickly turned heavy and hard, soaking her through, and when the innkeeper quoted her 120 gold, dinner included, she could not find the physical strength, much less the mental, to venture back out into the gloomy, growing darkness and the rain. Stringy beef, mealy bread, and beans that tasted oddly fishy - this was the last hot meal she had had. 

The last, she now realized, she was likely to ever have. 

It was drizzling the next day; her clothes still damp despite a night laid out as close to the fireplace as she had dared. That was the first time she had put on her cloak - she had not removed it since - and the day she had decided to leave the road in favor of traveling due west. She used 10 gold to buy a compass from one of Derdriu’s markets - she had a rough idea of how to use it. It would have to be enough. The last of her money went to a bit more food - a loaf of crusty round bread, more cheese, and some dried fish. 

She had hesitated, for the first time, at the last bridge leading from the city; it crossed a wide, lazy waterway whose name she did not know. She looked to the north - back towards the way from whence she had come. There was a harbor - one of so many scattered around Derdriu - and she watched men jump from a fishing boat, tying it to the mooring with quick, expert ease. One shouted to the others, words she could not make out, or perhaps a foreign tongue, but there was no difficulty understanding their shared laughter.

Where was home, for them? Here in Derdriu, or elsewhere in the Alliance, or Almyra, or even Sreng? People came from all over the northern lands to Derdriu to sell their fish, their crabs and shrimp and clams. But they had homes.

And… did she? Margrave Edmund had been kind to her, even if stern, and never particularly warm and affectionate - not that she could hold such disinclination against him. He had taken her in despite the distance of their blood relationship, and despite - an even greater burden upon his good name - the cursed Crest that dwelt within her. For four years, he had seen her fed, clothed, educated. He had paid the considerable expense for the Officers Academy without a word of complaint.

He would have said he had offered a home. More of his generosity and his kindness. But she had chosen to squander her right to call it so when she had silently refused the one thing he had asked of her in return:

To side with the Empire.

She had been lying to herself. But she knew the truth of it. This time - and perhaps it would be for the only time in her life - she had been using her Crest as an excuse.

If her Crest was the culprit, why had she left for Faerghus?

The chaotic day before Edelgard returned to Garreg Mach: she and Lysithea were to leave with Hilda’s brother Holst. Lady Rhea had ordered all the students to leave, but some - those already well-seasoned in battle - had remained to see the others off. Among them…

“Dimitri.”

He was at one of the smaller side gates, where students might head north or west along the side roads, far from the advancing army. There were none there yet, when she found him - it was early still, cold and foggy, the dawn no more than a bright smudge within the mist. There had been a solemn, dark mood clinging to the monastery for several weeks, and the chill of late winter morning did nothing to dissipate it. 

Dimitri, in cloak and thick gloves, his hair in even more disarray than usual, wore an expression as dour and bleak as the weather - until he turned at the sound of her voice. Surprise, then, in his eyes - but a smile on his lips. 

How would he respond, if she were to find the courage to say she felt as lucky to see his rare smiles as he claimed to feel to see hers? 

She would never find that courage - and certainly not now, when their time together would be so short. There was something far more important she needed to say. 

“Marianne!” He took a step, as if to approach her, then seemed to think better of it. “I thought surely you would have left long before now. Is everything well? Do you have safe passage back to the Alliance?”

“Yes - please don’t… don’t worry about me. I leave later today.”

A strange expression, very briefly, crossed his face - something almost dark. Then it was gone, and he gave a curt nod. “Good. I am glad to hear it. Please, stay safe on your journey.”

She knew the reason for the darkness and conflict in his eyes - she had come to understand where his attention truly lay many months before. It was no surprise recent events had left him in such turmoil. And this was the other reason she did not mention the joy she found in his smile - she feared it might only make the tumult within him even worse. 

But there was surely no harm in attempting a smile for him - just a friendly one. “You as well, Dimitri. The Goddess will watch over her home.”

He nodded again. “As she will. And I will be gone soon, I assure you - as soon as the others are safely away. Is there something I can do for you?”

“Um…” This was the awkward part - she was not used to asking things of others, except that they keep far away from her. “I… I have something for you. And… there is something… would you really… do something for me? Well… not just for me, but…” Her voice trailed off and she looked down, embarrassed at her own presumption, despite all the time she had spent convincing herself it was acceptable to ask. 

“Anything,” he said - sure. There was no hesitation. “Anything at all it is within my means to do for you, I give you my word that I will do it.”

She fumbled from the pocket of her cloak the tangled, soft, familiar strands of leather. “Please - would you… take this?”

She managed to look up again as he did as asked. He turned it over in his hands, his expression curious. “A bridle?”

“It’s…” Feeling foolish again. Ridiculous. A flush rising in her face. “It’s Dorte’s. He’s still here. I… I’m worried for him.”

“No harm will come to him.” Again, Dimitri spoke without hesitation. His hand reached out - stilled - then brushed, very softly, against her cheek. “I can swear that to you.” There was red in his cheeks now too, though perhaps it was just from the wind beginning to pick up. 

You’re a good friend, Dimitri. But even that felt a presumption too far. “I… Thank you. I, um… I asked Dorte to… to keep you safe, as well.”

“That was very kind of you. You have my thanks.”

She bit her lip - this was the hardest part. The part she had dreaded even more than the asking. “I should go. Lysithea already warned me - not to be late. I…” For just a moment, her eyes met his. “Goodbye, Dimitri.”

She had to force herself to turn and go - such an alien feeling! Her heart was beating too quickly; it was difficult to catch her breath.

“Wait - Marianne!”

Another alien feeling - she stopped. She looked back. 

Even at a distance, she could see Dimitri swallow hard. “If you ever have need of anything else, anything at all, please - come find me. Please.” He was holding the bridle, still - both hands almost seeming to clutch it. 

She attempted a smile. It would not come. “Thank you, Dimitri.”

She had not seen him since. Some small, practical part of her had tried hard to accept she never would again. The alliance as a whole had yet to declare a side, but the Kingdom had not been so cautious - they had offered sanctuary to the Church and issued a proclamation of war against the Empire almost immediately after the fall of Garreg Mach. Dimitri would head the army. Of course he would - it was the kind of leader he was, no matter the turmoil within him.

Standing on the last bridge heading west from Derdriu, all these months later, there was as yet no sign of war. But it was here - it was everywhere. She would soon be joined by many, many others with no place to call home. 

This was not home. The Margravate of Edmund was not home. Perhaps she had no home. Perhaps she never would. Perhaps it was only to be expected. 

Perhaps home was more than she deserved. 

She crossed the bridge. She left the wide, meandering road. 

She finished the last of her food as the fields of the western Alliance gave way to the forested mountains that separated Leicester and Faerghus. Already, it was becoming harder to keep track of the time since she had left - five days now? Six? It was hard to focus on anything besides the throbbing pain in her legs and back; the blisters on her feet. However long it had been, however far she had traveled, it seemed a lifetime since she had eaten beef and beans that tasted of fish, or slept with a blanket wrapped around her and a pillow beneath her head. 

There would be food in the woods, surely? Berries, wild fruit - acorns? Had she once heard someone say it was safe to eat acorns? And water, at least, would be plentiful; there was always water to be found in the Alliance. Water would also mean fish, but she wasn’t sure how to catch one, and even if she did, she very much doubted she would have the nerve to kill it, and if she somehow managed that much, how was she to eat it? She did not much fancy a raw fish, but she lacked any ability to start a fire - even if she’d known how to use a flint, she had none. 

Berries she did find, initially - small, sour strawberries and blueberries, but food was food. Rhubarb, as well: even more sour. She always tried to remember to save some, only to gorge herself as soon as she had tasted it. Her stomach felt often as if it were completely hollowed out, beginning to collapse in on itself. She shoved blueberries into her mouth by the handful, ignoring the stains on her hands, the juice running down her chin. 

Like a beast, like a beast, like a beast. 

She still truly slept then, some; the nights were growing colder as the land began to veer upward, but wrapped tightly in her cloak, she could find a few hours of dreamless oblivion: no pain, begging her not to take another step. No hollow, echoing emptiness in her belly. No fear of herself, and all the mistakes she had once again made. No Beast. 

The map was useless now, though she kept it - it did not belong to her. She used the sun to make sure she continued to go toward the west and the north, when she wasn’t sure of the compass. 

Everything, not just days, blending together - trees and mountains and trees and now… nothingness. Eternal nothingness. 

There was no food. 

There was no sleep. 

She spent the darkness huddled against the base of a tree, shivering desperately, closing her eyes, and sure she could hear the whisper of clawed footsteps. 

The Beast. 

Her bag was gone. She had no memory of losing it. 

Her feet stumbled. And again. She had fallen - more than once. Yet still, she walked. She couldn’t remember getting up. The cold was like needles, penetrating her fingers and toes. It made her cry, and the tears froze on her cheeks. One of her gloves was gone - when?

This was the Beast. There was none of her left. 

This was death.

“Goddess…” 

One step. Another one. Swaying, her head weightless, and yet leaden. Another step. 

“Goddess forgive me…” Hardly a sound.

But there was another.

A sound that she knew. 

Horses…?

“Stay where you are!”

One of the horses was chestnut brown, the other piebald. Pretty. They were pretty. She reached out. She wanted to pet them. There was shouting, but it was just babble-babble-babble. The piebald horse snorted, nervous. Of course he was nervous. All that noise. 

“What is going on? What are you -”

She stilled. She blinked. Something…

“Your Highness, wait!”

She blinked again. Slowly - slowly - she raised the heaviness within her head. 

He wasn’t in uniform. She’d never seen him not in uniform. 

Her eyes blurred. Burned. Lids heavy as her skull. 

“Marianne?!”

His voice. His voice. 

She opened her mouth, but had no sound left within her. None at all. 

Her eyes found his. 

When she collapsed, he caught her. 

[r-ahh-mi]

Empty Cups

Requested: you should do a rami smut based off the song ‘empty cups’ by charlie puth it is NEEDED pls listen to the song and you’ll unDERSTAND

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Warnings: Sexual Content, Alcohol Usage, Cheating, & Swearing.

Word Count: 5.1k

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A/N: I made this Josh...hope that’s okay! Also, thank you so much for requesting this because it got me sooo inspired that i think i’ll make this a multi chapter, maybe??? and collab with another writer????? Lemme know what you guys think xx

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It was so cold outside -- the dress that I chose was less then enough fabric to cover up my legs which were beginning to feel numb, but it was worth it; so damn worth it.

I was doing something that most would see as terrible and the saddest, most sadistic part was that I didn’t care. It wasn’t often that I was selfish in life; I would say i’m quite the giver and usually retire to worrying about others more than myself, but tonight was about me.

Dressing up to impress a man who wasn’t my beloved boyfriend was something I’d never thought to be doing, and yet here I am in the frigid winter cold, risking my relationship for what? Even I wasn’t completely sure. All I knew is that my mind was made up and I was going to seek out a resolution to these feelings I had been having, regardless of who was hurt and who was pleased.

Some would say that i’m a terrible person and ‘blah blah blah’, i realize this, but this man was something I couldn’t get my thoughts away from. Every time my boyfriend slid his arm across my shoulder, I pictured it was Josh. Every time my boyfriend and I engaged in any type of sexual behavior, I pictured it was Josh and as much as I didn’t want these feelings i would miss them terribly should they leave.

To make things every bit worse, my boyfriend was nothing but a saint to me. He treated me good and i couldn’t think of a single thing to complain about when it came to him, except for the fact that he wasn’t him. He wasn’t the Josh that I’d met a year ago through our mutual friend, Sam, and the Josh who stole my heart from the minute I laid eyes on his tousled hair and smug attitude. He already had me in the palm of his hand and yet he had zero idea of it. The only person who knows how I feel is Sam. Of course, Sam is an angel and told me to just stop thinking about him--if she only knew. Should it had been that easy, I wouldn’t be in this situation because, of course, I don’t want these thoughts. Me and my boyfriend have been together for 3 years and what we have is good, but Josh; Josh had something and I couldn’t quite comprehend what it was exactly that drew me to him so much, but it was something I wasn’t quickly able to rid myself of or even remotely start to forget about...which brings me to my current situation.

Josh was having a party and I couldn’t resist the chance at finally doing what I've fantasized about for the past year. His lips on my skin, his hands gripping my thighs, his body slick and hot, and his breath even hotter. No matter how much this could screw everything up and no matter if I would regret it the instant it happened, this was something that I needed to do. Maybe if I just do this it’ll get out of my system or it’ll be less than what my expectations were and then I can move on. That’s it -- this is for the purpose of moving on.

My first clanged against the front wooden door as I winced at the cold air hitting all of my exposed skin. To my dismay, it wasn’t Josh who had opened the door, but his sister, Hannah, as she greeted me with a smile and one armed hug, her other hand being occupied with a red plastic cup.

“Is Josh around?”, I asked as I rid my body of the heavy wool coat that was previously shielding me from frigid temperatures and hung it onto a nearby rack.

“‘Course!”, Hannah slurred, “I think he’s in the living room.”

I patted her shoulder, giggling as she quickly got distracted as she tip toed over to the kitchen, letting out various sounds of excitement as she slid into a group of people I assumed were her friends.

The bass was heavy as it thumped from speakers set in the living room as various people were littered around them. Groups and pairs of people were chatting, drinking, making out, or a good mixture of both as I took in my surroundings, attempting to find the one person I had come to see.

“Addie!” Suddenly, tiny arms were hugging me around my middle while I smiled, immediately knowing that all too familiar voice.

“Hi Sam”, I laughed, spinning myself around to get a good look at the blonde who still kept her arms around my waist.

Her eyes were glazed over as the affects from the nearly empty cup, in her hand, started to change her physical appearance, but that didn’t change the welcoming smile she always seemed to wear.

“Now Sam, how drunk are we right now?”

“We are not drunk, but I am drunk enough”, she giggled, taking the last sip from her cup and setting it on a nearby table.

“You look fancy.” Sam grabbed my hand, forcing my body to move as I twirled in circle.

“What’s all this for?”

Of course I wasn’t going to tell her it was for Josh. She would immediately pass judgement onto me and force me to go home or be tethered to her for the rest of the evening, so I settled for a little white lie.

“Just felt like looking nice is all”, Sam gave an approving nod as she reached in the nearby tub of ice and pulled out a shiny new beer can.

“No Adam tonight?”

Oh, Adam. I had nearly forgotten that Josh had also invited my boyfriend to this party, but the secret was that I hadn’t even bothered to tell Adam about the party at all. Instead, I settled to tell him I was hanging out with Sam tonight, which wasn’t entirely a lie, I was, indeed, with Sam right at this very moment.  Of course, I knew that wasn’t a good excuse, but it still cleared a portion of my conscious that was scolding me for wanting something so wrong.

“Nope”, I answered with a pop of my lips as a familiar laugh rang from a distance.

Josh was intermingling with a mixed group of guys and girls. He spoke so confidently and poised as he listened and chimed into the conversation whenever necessary, that is until he caught my eyes staring at him. Quickly, I darted my gaze away, dramatically turning my head to focus back on Sam.

“Addison...” Sams tone was both disapproving and a bit concerned as she kept switching her gaze from me to somewhere behind me or rather someone.

“Hmm?”

“Please stop.”

“Stop what?” Of course, I knew what she was referring to, but playing dumb seemed like a safe way to keep my little plan for the evening under wraps. 

Sam sighed as she took a long swig from her beer and turned around, giving me a clear view of Josh and the group he was with. Immediately, our eyes found each other as Josh sent a smile towards me.

“Adam is a nice guy..”

“I know Sam, I know, but i’m not doing anything wrong.”

She took a deep breath before taking a long swig out of her beer as we just stared at one another. Her trying to figure out my motivations, i’m sure, and me trying to figure out if she was buying the bullshit I was feeding her.

“I just don’t want things to get messed up for you is all; i do it because I care.”

I smiled, placing my hand affectionately on her shoulder and fully preparing to lie through my teeth. “I know you do Sam, but honestly. I’m not doing anything wrong.”

Sam nodded as Mike came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her as she pressed her back into his chest. 

I watched as they both flirted with one another and began subconsciously moving to the pop music that was blaring through out the lodge. Their puppy love was something amazing to see; they were a fresh couple and still getting to know one another and that stage in a relationship is something to be truly treasured because it doesn’t last nearly as long as it needs to..or maybe with me and Adam it just didn’t... i’m not sure. Adam was my first and only relationship so I was by no means an expert, but it just seemed like our little ‘hopelessly in love’ phase came and went within a month or two and things just started to go a tad bland. 

“We’re gonna go upstairs. Are you okay to be alone?”

I nodded, smiling and shooing Sam and Mike away as I watched them waltz up the staircase, sparing each other little kisses and movements of affection until they were out of my view.

“Hey Ad.”

My body couldn’t have twisted around fast enough as I turned to face the deep, familiar tone as he stood directly in front of me, arms crossed over his chest, making his biceps even more pronounced then they usually were.

“Hi Josh.”

Though he tried to hide it with a quick flick beneath his eyelashes, I saw the way he eyed me up; gazing up and down my tightly fit dress and then respectfully back up to my face. 

“What’s the occasion for this type of outfit?”

My answer was similar to the one I gave Sam -- a shrug and humble, “Just wanted to dress up.”

Josh nodded, taking a sip of his beer as he brushed his eyes down my body again, but on this instance he took his time. One could argue that he had possibly had a lot to drink already which is why he had become so shameless and bold, but i didn’t care. As long as he was noticing me the way I wanted him to, then it was alright with me.

His lips were puckered ever so slightly, his eyes glossed, and his pointer finger was gently thumping against the plastic cup in his hand, making a dull ‘ping’ sound and I wanted nothing more than to grab the back of his neck and kiss him as if it was my last day on earth.

Alas, I did not. I had self control, at least for now I did and the self control was larger due to me being scared to initiate anything. This was something i’d dreamt of and pictured for the past year and I wasn’t about to waste the night so quickly when I could be patient and take the time to enjoy his company and, of course, I hoped that he would accept the kind of company I wanted to give him.

“You wanna dance?” Through my long and terribly false lashes, I glanced back up to Josh’s face, taking note of the hand that was now placed at his side and slightly out stretched, ready to embrace me if I were to accept his invitation.

“Sure”, I nodded with an all too cool tone, even though my mind was internally screaming everything in a voice so opposite; one could even compare it to a high pitched squeal.

Our fingers latched together as Josh smoothly glided the both of us through the crowd of dancing and intertwined bodies until he found a big enough free space for the both of us. Instantly, our bodies meshed perfectly together as we both started off by simply swaying our hips, but still keeping a safe distance of a couple inches from each other. However, this distance didn’t last long as Josh slowly slithered his hand around my waist, pulling my front closer to his  until we both looked as if we were connected to one another by our hips.

The second I felt our bodies brush against one another I knew this was going to be it. It was for sure going to happen tonight and suddenly I grew needy and impatient, much opposed to my feelings earlier, but I knew I was ready for it. I’d been thinking of this exact scenario for the past year after all.

Swiftly, I turned my body around, letting Josh adjust his hand until his palm lay flat on the fabric covering my stomach as I pressed my back against his chest while we continued swaying and grinding to the upbeat music. 

Josh’s other hand rid itself of its beer and came to lay against the top of my thigh, making me shiver as he gently pressed my body further against his, making my ass grind against his groin. Although the music was loud, I could still hear the sharp intake of breath he took as his reaction to this new found body contact we were both attempting to familiarize the other with. However, it didn’t take long for us  both to naturally get comfortable with the other -- we were always quick to adapt when it came to each others company. 

One song, two songs..who knows what number deep worth of songs we got until I decided that enough was enough, but i’m just happy that I had mustered up enough confidence to do so as I slid my arm up Josh’s body til it laid on the back of his neck as I gently nudged him to lean down towards me.

“Wanna go upstairs?”, I whispered into his ear as his grip around my waist slightly loosened, making me fear that I was taking this too far.

Josh knew that I had a boyfriend, maybe that was what was causing this sudden hesitation, but that also didn’t stop him from asking me to dance. Not to mention, the dancing was definitely not PG 13. Maybe he just thought I was a tease and, so far, had we really done anything wrong yet? I was merely just dancing with my friend, wasn’t I?

I felt a hand intertwine with mine as they led me out of the sweaty, dancing crowd and it wasn’t until we began to head for the bottom of the stairs that I saw it was Josh leading the way as he briefly looked back at me, eyes seeming to ask if I was sure, but I already knew that answer all too well. 

A small smile from me reassured him as he kept our hands laced together while we both climbed the stairs. Various others couples were littered in the upper hallway -- kissing, groping, and some even doing more than that all lingered about as Josh reached for the handle on his bedroom door.

Twisting the knob, gasps from two scarcely clothed people twitched from their previously kissing positions on Josh’s bed as he gave them an angered glare. The pair both nodded and scrambled to grab their clothes as they made their way up and out of Josh’s room, leaving us both in nullified silence, except for the familiar bass thump that had now become normal to be flowing throughout the lodge.

At first, it was incredibly awkward...and i’m willing to blame my lack of any alcohol in my system for this feeling, but I knew it wasn’t totally to blame. Josh was thinking, just as I too was thinking as we stood in his room in silence. Thinking about how much I wanted him and how much he wanted me, thinking about the fact that my boyfriend was sat at home, oblivious to my affair I was trying to indulge in. Lastly, thinking about how this would change things, if it even would change anything, but I think, deep down, we both knew that it was bound to make things different. It’s rare that you have sex with anyone and not feel different around them, right? Was it possible to be that intimate with someone, regardless of the strings or lack there of attached during the heat of the moment, and bounce right back to your places in the world?

I jumped slightly as I heard my phone chime from my back pocket. Josh had seemed startled by the breaking of the silence as well as he watched me with wide owl eyes as I plucked my phone from my back pocket. That’s when I started to feel incredibly guilty about this entire thing, in fact, I nearly ran straight out of that room as soon as I saw my boyfriends name flash across my phones screen.

I continued to stare at the home screen for far too long as I felt a pair of hands snake around my waist from behind. Plump lips began to leave kisses on the back of my neck and whatever guilt I was feeling before hand quickly disappeared as I closed my eyes and leaned my head back to rest on Josh’s shoulder as he moved his lips to the side of my neck. His kisses were soft to start, then began to get much more rough as his teeth grazed against the taut skin as he started to suck on my neck, making me whine out his name as my other arm snaked up and around the back of his neck.

Just as Josh’s hands began to wander upward, my phone went off again, making me quickly pull my phone back out from my pocket with a frustrated groan.

“Turn it off”, Josh muffled against my skin, as his hands smoothed the curvature of my waist, nearly touching my bust.

“I can’t just turn it off, he’ll start to worry Josh..” My finger hovered over the ‘answer’ button, fully prepared to pick up the phone call even if it was just to put Adam’s mind at ease that I was not in harms way..unless you considered Josh’s lips nibbling on my skin a type of harm.

“If you turn it off, then he’ll just think your phone died or something.”

I pondered on Josh’s words, still not completely convinced that I should listen to him, until he moved his hand up to my left breast, giving it a slight squeeze as his teeth nibbled on my ear lobe. His hot breath fanned against my ear making me instantly hold the right side button to turn off my phone as I slipped the device back into my back pocket and spun my body around.

This was the first time we had really made eye contact since being alone in his room and it was a heated stare to say the very least. Josh’s eyes were narrowed on me as his hands returned to my waist, pulling my body flush against his as he rested our foreheads together.

“Are you sure you want this?”

Was that even a question? Of course I wanted it, but I guess me turning my phone off, not to mention requesting that we go upstairs together, wasn’t enough for Josh to see that this is all I had thought about and I couldn’t want anything more right at this very moment.

I nodded, looking him dead in the eye as my hands came up to cup the sides of his face, to which he responded my leaning his head towards my palm and resting his cheek there.

“I just don’t want you to regret it, you know what I mean? I hope you don’t think i’m pressuring you or trying to seduce you or..fuck maybe I am but-”

I shushed him by bringing my pointer finger up to his lips, shaking my head as I smiled at his hesitance which really only made me admire him more because he was nervous. I too was nervous, I couldn’t lie about that, but I also knew for certain that I wanted him, but the fuzziest part of it all was that I wasn’t sure if it was sexually or emotionally...but I chose to give in to the sexual craving for now. Worrying about any other kinds of feelings I may have would just cause tonight and everything that would ensue in the next several minutes (or hours) to be filled with anxiety and second guessing and I wasn’t having any of it. 

I had waited much too long to be with him; I wasn’t about to waste this special time together on tentative actions and questioning of every move, so i’m stopping, right here, right now and i’m merely just going to be his in this very moment. My mind is free and i’m just going with the first thought and feeling and reaction I felt.

“Kiss me Josh.”

It was as if we had both just been waiting for the other to verbally announce that what we were doing, or rather, thinking about doing was okay, as our mouths lurched towards one another, lips smacking together as our open mouths ate each other up in a desperate fashion. Josh’s hands reached down to the back of my thighs, effortlessly lifting my body up as I wrapped my legs around his waist for support.

Our lips remained attached as the back of his legs hit the edge of the bed, making him sloppily fall onto the mattress, taking me down with him as I straddled his sitting form. For a moment, he just studied me as his fingers combed through my tangled hair, thanks to the wet snow that ruined the perfect curls I had attempted to make prior to the party.

“What?” I questioned.

He shook his head as he smiled at him, taking his thumb and rubbing it against my cheek as he slowly drew his lips nearer to mine until a delicate kiss was left to fill in the distance. Our mouths were so slow this time, happily taking their time to get acquainted with the others as our heads tilted and turned and pressed harder into each other as Josh’s hands slipped under the fabric of my dress that had now been piled up by my waist. I shivered as his cold hands touched my bare skin and it felt even better than anything I could have imagined over the past year.

I remembered one night, gliding my own hands up and over the curve of my hips to my waist and up to breasts, to my lower back, imaging it was Josh’s tanned fingers climbing all over my skin, but my imagination was severely losing compared to the real feel of his hands on me as his fingers gripped the fabric of my dress and began slowly pulling it up and over my upper half until our lips disconnected so I could allow Josh to slip my top up and over my head.

“Your turn.” I quirked, tugging lightly on his t shirt as I too let my hands slip underneath the fabric, allowing my finger tips to graze the muscles of his abdomen all the way up to his broad chest until I had a good grip on his t shirt and was able to lift it and discard it onto the floor.

“I’ve wanted this for so long”, I mumbled against his lips.

However, I was taken aback as Josh lightly pushed his face away from me. “You’ve thought about this before?”

Suddenly, I was very self conscious of the little secret I decided to spill as I nervously diverted my eyes to anywhere but his face.

“Hey, I've thought about this too, I just didn’t know you had been thinking about it as well”, Josh brushed his hands up and down my bare back and even the faintest touch of his fingers grazing the back of my bra was making me shiver.

“Addie.” Slowly, I turned my eyes to him as he had a smile that showed pure enjoyment as he pressed a kiss to my lips.

“Do I have permission to take off your clothes and fuck you senseless now?”

Although Josh’s whispered words made me hold my breath for a second, I couldn’t move fast enough as I leaned forward with enough force to knock Josh on his back, having me straddling his waist as his hands moved to my ass, giving it a good squeeze.

His hands found the back of my bra, unclasping it within the first or second try, as his hands moved to my breasts in an instant. Needing them and pinching the small pink nubs, making me winch and grind my hips against the very present bulge that was pressing into my lightly clothed center.

“Less clothing please”, I requested as I got up from my straddling position and began unbuttoning my jeans.

Josh watched on, body weight leaning back onto his elbows, as I stripped down to my simple, yet complimenting, panties. “Should I take these off myself or would you like to do the honors?”

“Oh please”, Josh outstretched his arms so his hands rested on my hips, “Allow me.”

Within minutes, we were both completely naked with one another as I climbed back onto the bed. This time, Josh climbed between my spread legs as we both continued to sloppily and aggressively kiss, until Josh’s lips began to travel down my body, from my lips to my neck, down to my breast until he was kissing my lower stomach, mere inches from where I wanted him the most.

Josh hummed a ‘mmm’ as he gave a lick to my lower lips, admiring the way they tasted while he spread my legs wide open with his hands as he indulged in eating me out. His tongue danced between my clit and my entrance as he took long licks up and down until he settled on moving his tongue in circles against the sensitive nub. My hands immediately went to my inner thighs, squeezing and pinching them as I relished in this feeling that Josh was making me feel so good and the best part was, I had no guilt, no remorse, and zero regrets about any of this, at least for now I didn’t. I was merely just enjoying how well he was taking care of me.

However, as much as I would’ve love to cum from his mouth alone, I wanted to feel him deep inside me when I finally hit my climax, so I tugged a bit on his hair, making him come up for air as he looked at me.

“I don’t want to cum yet”, Josh was all but a cocky smirk as he moved back up the bed to again rest between my legs, the tip of his cock pressing teasingly against my wet lips.

“Before I forget...”, Josh fumbled to quickly reach for his side table, moving his hand around until he found the foil packet he had been in search of.

“Thank god someone remembered”, I laughed, pushing the hair away from my sweaty forehead as I watched on with lust as he moved the material over his sizable and erect length.

“Now, where were we.” Josh hitched one of my legs over his shoulder, resting his palm on my opened thigh as he took a hold of his dick and slowly pressed his tip into my entrance. 

This contact alone was a billion times better then what my fingers could do while I was imagining this very thing with Josh and I couldn’t hold back my moan as he filled me up completely with one swift thrust.

“Fuck”, Josh winced as he started slowly moving his hips, pushing himself in and out of me as my leg still rested on his shoulder.

“You feel so fucking good.”

“Better than you imagined?”

“Fuck yes.”

Eventually we switched up positions, me on all fours and Josh lining himself up at my entrance from behind just before giving one of my ass cheeks a slight smack, making me moan and playfully wiggle my ass as if it were a tempting treat, which to him, i knew it was.

Due to the wetness between my legs, he slipped into me with ease and just started pounding roughly as his hands gripped my hips harshly. Thank god for the heavy music, the movie Josh had flicked on beforehand, and the other copious amounts of people who were doing the same thing we were doing because my moans were loud and unable to be held back as our skin smacked against each other with a loud sound.

“Mmm, i’m close” Josh groaned as he moved his hand around my body so he could move his fingers in a circular motion on my clit.

I bent upward from his touch on the sensitive area as I immediately climaxed around him as Josh continued fucking me roughly through the intense orgasm. I hadn’t felt an orgasm like that..ever I don’t believe. No way could Adam make me feel like this, no possible way.

Just as my body began to calm down, Josh pulled out of me, stretching out his legs so they stood flat against the floor. I turned around to see him pumping his now bare cock in his hand at a fast pace as he watched me while I scooted towards the end of the bed.

“Allow me”, I replicated his words from earlier as he smiled down at me before pressing the tip of his cock against my lips. I gave him a good lick before completely taking his tip into my mouth and once I got a good hold on him, he removed his hand completely and let me just make him feel good as my tongue worked its skills on him, bathing him with my mouth as I licked every vein and ridge of him until I was feeling him in the back of my throat.

A couple movements from his hips and he was shooting his load down my mouth as he steadied his hands on my shoulders, keeping himself afloat and standing until he was satisfied and completely spent from his orgasm.

I watched as he opened his eyes for the first time post orgasm and, I admit, I was a little scared for his reaction because this was, after all, the afterword of what we had done. Would he immediately regret it? Would he tell me to leave now that he had gotten what he wanted from me?

“Want to watch a movie?” 

That was hardly the response I had expected, but nevertheless I was extremely happy with it as we both snuggled up our nude forms together under his covers and watched the television that he had turned on prior to the loud and intense sex we had just had.

I thought for sure guilt would flood me as soon as we were spent, but it hadn’t. The name Adam or any thought pertaining to my boyfriend hadn’t even crossed my mind, all I was thinking about was Josh’s arm around my shoulder, our fingers intertwined, and the fact that we were seeking out a little sanctuary in his bedroom, while all the other people my age were out there getting fucked and shit faced. I liked this little sanctuary. I could get used to this.

-

Tag: @frami-mercury-malek

[tripindicatorblog-blog]

All You Want to Know About Sagrada Familia

   Sagrada wouldn't be the identical devoid of the mad genius of Antoni Gaudí. As a result, it really is really hard to envision he wasn't the initial architect asked to supervise the task. In the beginning, the official architect of the diocese, Don Francisco de Paula del Villar y Lozano took demand of the building. He came up with his neo-gothic programs and the performs began in 1882. Gaudí previously joined the team in 1883 as Villar's junior assistant. Even so, Villar barely managed to finish the crypt prior to he left the project mainly because of disagreements with the Affiliation of Devotees of Saint Joseph who commissioned it. Gaudí grew to become the direct architect of the Sagrada Familia task in 1884. two. realized he will not reside to see the church complet Since having on the job, Gaudí was conscious he will in no way be equipped to see Sagrada Família stand in all its glory. For that reason, he produced impeccably in depth designs to make certain the development could go on with out him. To honor the reality that he was a tiny part of anything greater than himself, he made it achievable for the facades to be built independently. That's why, every new technology of architects could give the church a touch of their have style that demonstrates the era. three. Sagrada Família is a basilica, not a cathedral Numerous people today refer to Sagrada Família as a cathedral. Nonetheless, that is not correct. It's easy to make a miscalculation because its dimension and decor equals or surpasses to a person of a cathedral. The true cathedral in Barcelona is The Cathedral of the Holy Cross and Saint Eulalia on the gothic city heart. Sagrada Família was supposed to be just a neighborhood church devoted to worship the holy relatives. It can be Antoni Gaudí's eyesight that turned it into a unique piece of artwork. Many thanks to its grandeur and recognition, Pope Benedict XVI consecrated the church to be a slight basilica in 2010. If you have any type of inquiries pertaining to where and how you can use Sagrada Familia History, you could contact us at the page. 4. Just about every Facade Narrates a Story The Nativity Facade tells the story of Jesus' birth. It is really the only 1 of 3 Gaudí concluded himself. The eclectic elements and sculptures of this facade not only explain the early years of Jesus' life, they also depict a lot of references to mother nature. The Enthusiasm Facade is notably less complicated in style and design and characteristics the levels of Christ's crucifixion. Multiple architects worked on it respecting Gaudí's structural types though providing it their possess creative touch. The third a person is the Glory Facade which is still in its early levels. When completed, it will be the major and most essential of the a few because it will give way to the Sagrada's central nave. Its development only kicked off in 2002, so it truly is actually not very significantly along. This facade is devoted to the glory of Jesus and his increase to heavens. Gaudí's rough sketches of the facade function a number of typical representations of loss of life, ultimate judgment, glory, and hell (warning for individuals that get rid of their route). 5. The Angles are Shaped by Gravity Sagrada Família's column and tower angles ended up defined by mother nature. How? Gaudí produced a model of the church utilizing strings and weights. He outlined the foundations of the church on a wood board, hung it on the ceiling and hooked up strings to the details in which the columns must stand. Then, he weighed them down with little sacs of body weight, attaching them strategically to the gravity-produced arches made by the strings. Having pictures of this model, Gaudí could determine the character-provided angles of each column and arch. A copy of the string design hangs in the museum beneath the church.  To know more visit here. 6. Each individual Tower has its Indicating Believed each and every facet of the church through and by means of. Consequently, the towers, much too, provide as symbols. When finished, Sagrada Familia will satisfaction by itself on 18 towers in full twelve signify the twelve apostles, four signify the Evangelists, a single for the Virgin Mary and, the tallest just one in the middle, will symbolize Jesus. However, so significantly there are only eight towers standing  

[captaindaddykru]

you hurt the ones you love (i don't believe that)

for @obviesbellarke based on this photo ;)

Raven has always prided herself on her work ethic. She didn’t come from much, her parents did not plan on having a child which about described her relationship with them, and she worked part-time jobs ever since the goverment allowed her to. (Since they put her in the system and the system failed her, she felt like she could pretty much do whatever she wanted to the system. So sometimes she repaid the cards they dealt her by doing some not so legal hacking into college databases to slightly change rich frat boy GPA’s and make some extra cash.) 

It paid off, because now Raven works for NASA and she didn’t even apply for the job. They asked her to come work for them. Who can say NASA asked them to come work for them? Raven Reyes can. Why? Because she is a certified genius who worked her way through high school, and college, and a master degree, and still managed to look halfway attractive, get in thirty minutes of exercise a day and keep a semi-active social life throughout it all. 

She loved her job. She did, but—but it also meant long days, a lot of overtime, even more time spend on business trips and conference calls. If it wasn’t for her boyfriend Zeke working in the same building as her, she’s pretty sure she would never see him either since she barely ever goes home. She just happened to luck out and get the most amazing, understanding and supportive friends in the universe. 

Besides, after spending half her life ‘being friends’ with Finn—who fucked her over and ghosted her after mere nine days apart at different colleges—Raven has come to learn what real friendship is. Emori tags her in a meme at least every other day, Harper brings over fresh vegetables from her and Monty’s garden whenever she looks extra pale and Clarke dutifully keeps her up to date on all her favorite shows she has zero time to watch. They’re as real as it gets. 

Hence, when things start to cross over from a strong work ethic to borderline workaholic slash inevitable burn-out and her boss Sinclair forces her to take two weeks off, she is disappointed when the first three people she asks to hang out on her first free Saturday night that year already have plans. They barely hear from her in months beside a quick ‘what’s up’ in their group chat before she falls asleep on her couch every Saint Glinglin and they have the audacity to not keep their nights free in case she might ask them to hang out sometime? Assholes. 

Since Emori and Murphy are out of town (probably robbing a house or something, she still doesn’t know what they do in their free time), and Harper and Monty have dinner with her parents, Clarke is up next. Raven texts her asking what she is doing that weekend, opening up a bottle of wine before padding over to her living room without a glass. She deserves the entire thing. Raven starts up Netflix on her smart TV while she waits for her friend to reply. 

Twenty minutes deep into an episode of Homeland, her phone buzzes annoyingly on the armrest. 

CLARKE [8:51 PM]:

who’s number is this?

RAVEN [8:54 PM]:

very funny griffin. drinks on saturday?

It takes a surprisingly long time for Clarke to answer her text, even though she isn’t a notorious bad back-texter unlike her boyfriend. One time like two years back, Raven asked Bellamy if he wanted to chip in on Murphy’s birthday present and he still hasn’t replied to this day. She’s pretty sure he isn’t even aware of the fact iMessage exists.

Raven has almost single-handedly finished off a bag of Cheetos before her phone buzzes again. She unlocks her phone to find a photo of a pregnancy test staring back at her, balanced precariously on what she assumes is Clarke’s knee, like the night terrors she used to have in middle school, terrified to end up like the other girls in her neighbourhood, sure a boy even looking at her could knock her up. 

RAVEN [9:08 PM]:

so no drinks then???

The reply comes faster this time, Raven sure that Clarke was just jumping for her to something. Anything.

CLARKE [09:09 PM]:

i just found out and my first instinct was to grab a bottle of beer, i’m fucked

She’s not sure what Clarke wants from her here—that one always had more up her sleeve than expected—a congrats or a condolences, so she settles on the safe middle of comic relief. 

RAVEN [9:10 PM]:

who’s the father?

CLARKE [09:10 PM]:

seriously?

RAVEN [9:11 PM]:

what? thought you two went to that swingers club the other month

CLARKE [09:14 PM]:

that was a teacher’s conference. he begged me to come

RAVEN [9:15 PM]:

i thought YOU begged HIM to come and now we’re in this whole mess?

A reply doesn’t come for two minutes, and then three, and when the clock ticks closer to five minutes, Raven decides to dial her number. It switches over to Facetime, but the screen is black, static commotion of the phone being moved around the only sound between their two devices for a good ten seconds. Finally, she asks, “Clarke?” 

“I didn’t plan for this, Rave,” is the first thing out of her mouth, and Raven has to bite back a smile. Clarke is such a in-the-closet neurotic mess and she missed it. The screen turns very bright, then finally she can make out her friend. From the looks of it, she is on the floor in her bathroom, mascara smudged lightly under her eyes, wavy hair a mess on top of her head. “I haven’t even finished school yet. My NCLEX exam isn’t until next month—“

“Sound like perfect timing to me,” Raven snorts, keeping her tone very bored. Is this all she has? Are these her best arguments? She’s off her game. “You’ll ace the exam, get a few months of nursing experience at the hospital and then you can go on maternity leave. Your mom owns the surgical ward, I’m pretty sure she can make it happen.”

She watches Clarke draw her knees up to her chest, resting her forehead on top of them for a moment before looking back up at her phone. She does look wrecked. Raven hesistates for a second, then inquires, “Have you told him?”

“No,” Clarke replies, and then she is quiet for another second. She sounds softer this time, “What if he doesn’t want this?”

Raven almost cackles out loud. That loser would do anything for her, even if he didn’t want a baby with her—which seemed very unlikely—he would probably go to his grave swearing it was all he ever wanted. Besides, Bellamy has a few years on Clarke, is a well-known mother hen and is practically smitten with his sister’s toddler. (The only pictures he ever posts on social media are either of Clarke, his sister, that bratty little Octavia look-alike, or the three of them together—which was probably Nirvana by his definition.) He was more than ready, Raven’s sure that his old man primal hormones are just off the charts.

“Fat chance,” Raven settles on, instead of manic laughter because she’s a good friend, eyebrows practically disappearing into her hairline. “You’re talking about Bellamy Blake? The same Bellamy Blake who, when you introduced him to me and I told him I would kick his ass if he ever hurt you, said he couldn’t wait to have your babies someday?”

Clarke scrunches up her nose in disbelief, and Raven wonders if she needs to get her sight checked. Does she not see how that buffoon looks at her? “He said that?”

“Yep,” Raven drags out, seemingly unimpressed.

“He was drunk,” she argues, brushing her off as she runs a hand through her tangled blonde hair. 

“That makes it more true, Clarke, not less,” Raven replies without skipping a beat, can’t help but sound a little tiny bit judgemental just because of who she is as a person. There’s more silence, Clarke chewing on her thumbnail as she stares off in the distance and Raven sighs, softening her voice. “No offense, but why are you complaining to me about this, babe? It isn’t like you to be this insecure.”

Was this not the Clarke Griffin who marched up to their arrogant orange-President-affliated professor and told him he might be an art teacher, but she was an artist? It was a popular meme around their college for weeks, black sunglasses and a animated blunt photoshopped onto her yearbook picture and plastered around the halls. The same Clarke Griffin who punched through a glass window because racist campus police let her go and took Monty into a interrogation room alone after catching the both of them with some weed brownies and still has the scar to prove it? Was she not the Clarke Griffin who got everyone to sign a petition to get Kyle Wick kicked out of school when he tweeted out a sexually suggestive picture of Raven?

“Because you know he’ll be excited,” she presses, aggrevated, blue eyes dark as she stares at her camera as if she can stare straight into Raven’s soul. “And I can’t break his heart and tell him that—”

“That what?” Raven cocks an eyebrow, figuring it’s time for some though love now. “You dont want a baby?”

“No—“ She tries to get it, but Raven doesn’t relent, keeps pressing, “That you don’t want his baby?”

“No!” Clarke blurts out harshly, cutting her off as her eyes brim with tears. “That I didn’t plan for this!” She swallows tightly, and Raven just watches her, chest heaving up and down erraticly, blue eyes darting from left to right as she tries to get her thoughts together.  “You know what happened when I started medical school, why I had to drop out,” her voice finally breaks, lip trembling. “This time, I was going to better. I was going to do it right.”

“You had a nervous breakdown, Clarke,” Raven snaps, tired of the sugarcoating. She was so hard on herself, and Raven still feels the slighest pang of guilt at that because she used to encourage that quality in her, held her to even higher standards. Maybe at first because she was jealous of her, of the golden girl who got everything handed to her. When she realized that wasn’t true, it was more because Raven knew she could be brilliant. Then after everything went down, she realized Clarke had already been brilliant all along. “You were making eighteen hour days, Lexa broke your heart and then your dad died in your arms. I think not having a breakdown over that would’ve qualified you as a sociopath.”

Clarke quickly wipes at the wetness trailing down her cheek, like she is trying to keep Raven from seeing, hugging her knees closer to her chest. Quietly, she sniffs, wondering, “What if it happens again?”

“It won’t. Because you’ve learned you can’t plan everything because life comes at you fast,” Raven says, authoratively, like she’s reading it from the pamphlet her therapist got them back then. “—and to communicate about how you’re feeling, what you’re thinking. Eat enough vegetables and sleep enough hours.”

Clarke takes a deep breath, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand as she lets herself nod. Raven can’t help but press, “Isn’t that what you and Bellamy use as foreplay? A good old fashioned emotional conversation?”

Clarke scoffs. “No, like talking shop doesn’t get you and Shaw going.”

Raven lifts a shoulder, indifferent. She’s not going to sit here and pretend like him being able to name every component of a Harvey Davidson motorcycle in alphabetical order doesn’t get her all hot and bothered.

Clarke wipes her palms on her jeans-clad thighs, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “What if I’m not any good at this?”

“Then the child will have the most awesome aunt to fall back on,” Raven smirks, and luckily, Clarke finally cracks a smile too. “You’re Clarke fucking Griffin. If this is something that you want—“ She drags out the last word, pausing to get her confirmation (she’s pretty sure it’s something she does want, deep down, but it doesn’t hurt to check before she rolls out the whole peptalk), and reluctantly, her friend nods, corners of her lips turned up almost shyly. “If it’s something that you want, you’ll succeed at it. You care about everyone, Clarke, to a fault.”

Raven finds herself smirking again, pretending to be half-distracted with re-tightening her brace. “And I know it’ll be hard to care about that baby knowing it’s Bellamy’s—“

“Shut up,” Clarke deadpans, and her eyes look brighter, clearer. Tentatively, her hand comes to rest on top of her lower belly, fingers flexing on top of her shirt for just a second. Raven can’t help but smile, happy for her friends. It’s what they deserve.

“You should really call him,” Raven pushes, pursing her lips satisfactory, “He’s going to be so salty you told me before him.”

“Probably,” Clarke snorts, just the slightest bit of nervousness flashing across her eyes before they soften as she says, “But, thanks, Rave. I’m glad to see NASA lets you out on probation every six months.”

“It’s NASA though,” she responds—a little boastful, because it’s NASA, she gets to be boastful—then stretches out her free arm. “Also, mocktails Saturday?”

Clarke beams. “Deal.”

(The next time Raven gets a text from Clarke, it’s a photo of a ring on her finger.)

[starlessskies94]

The Saint and The Sinner (Negan/BlakeAU)

AU Vampire Negan and Mortal Blake cross paths but what will they make of each other? @neganandblake this is for you and I hope it doesn’t disappoint ❤️❤️❤️❤️ It is a long one and probably the only chapter I’ll write for this AU but I hope it’s okay and I think I edited most spelling mistakes (I hope) xxx

After six hundred years one might think you’d learn and see all there is to experience about life. But even the simplest of souls could live a mere seventy years and never grasp the truest moments of what it is to truly live.

Sanctuary Falls seemed like your average town, small and idyllic where everyone knew everyone. Surrounded by forests and mountains as far as the eye could see, it seemed like the perfect place to live. But what most innocent eyes couldn’t see was the darkness hidden in the depths. The creatures living in the underworld of the town ready to take the lives of any unlucky mortal that stumbled their way.

And after six centuries of bloodshed and death…Negan was ready for a change. After the death of his beloved Lucille he’d sworn he would never harm another human again. But it was hard, ignoring the instincts and impulses that came naturally after hundreds of years.

The house he’d seen advertised was an old scaled down mansion build; still with its original New England architecture intact. He couldn’t help but admire the workmanship on the place.

“As you can see the place is still in its original state for the most part, some parts of the property have been renovated mostly just to make it livable in the twenty first century. But I can assure you that you won’t find a better deal on an incredible home like this.”

He turned back to the preppy real estate agent. She stood by the kitchen door, that same bright illuminated smile dazzling her features. Looking no older than thirty-five at best, dressed in her best pants suit, her golden locks pulled back into a tiny neat bun with not one hair out of place. She’d been like a ray of sunshine throughout the whole tour of the house and to Negan’s surprise it’d actually brightened up his morning. He returned her smile with his own as his slipped his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Sounds great doll…I’ll take it.”

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It hadn’t taken him long to move in his stuff, mostly because he didn’t own much.

Stepping through to the kitchen on bare feet, his stomach crying out for food, he took a chilled blood pack from the fridge emptying the contents into a pint glass, taking a few swigs before placing it to the side on the counter.

He was running out and soon he knew he’d have to hunt for something more...fresh.

He winced at the thought, Lucille had always told him that he didn’t have to kill to survive but he was the head of his Clan, the Alpha; he had to lead by example. Lucille had always been human and turning her had never been an opinion because he hadn’t wanted her to be dragged into his world; that was of course until she got sick and it had been his last hope in the desperation to save her.

The thing was however, when a new vampire is turning they must feed in the first twenty four hours and Lucille had refused. She’d argued that it was unjustified that to save her life, she would have to take another...and so Negan had laid with her, holding her close as she slowly faded away.

That’d had been ten years ago and it sting stung as fresh as it did the day he lost her. He was trying...it was hard and he still slipped from time to time but he was trying. Leaving his Clan had been in service of that, in an attempt to lessen the temptation. 

He was pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door, barely getting there in time before it was thrown open and slammed against the adjoining wall.

“Hey buddy! You know it has been hell trying to track your ass down!”

Negan rolled his chestnut eyes at the tall mustached man. Simon, his blood brother in every second of the term. They’d been turned at the same time over six hundred years ago, sticking side by side for centuries killing and slaughtering together. He had a sense that maybe Simon enjoyed the killing a little too much but he supposed he would have been a rather lousy vampire if he didn’t.

“Yeah, you know it’s almost like I didn’t wanna be found Si!”

“Bullshit! You need to come back! The Clan needs you, they falling over their own damn feet not knowing what to do with themselves.”

“Not my problem anymore.”

Negan didn’t even flinch as Simon slammed his first against the wall, rattling the framed pictures above.

“Don’t fucking give me that shit! This is your Clan we’re talking about, you’re seriously gonna let a goddamn human screw that up?! It’s been ten years Negan! Get. Over. It!”

With wind chilling speed, he flew at the mustached man; his large hands tightening around his neck. Teeth grinding as he spit venom.

“Watch your fucking mouth Simon, don’t forget who fucking killed you the first time!”

The man coughed out a wheezed breath, a drip of blood slipping from the corner of his mouth as it twisted to a wicked grin.

“See, this is who you are. Why pretend you’re something else when we both know this is what you do best?”

Negan’s snarl stiffened at Simon’s words, hand squeezing tighter around his neck before he growled in frustration throwing the dark haired vampire to the side before grabbing his boots and storming out the door.

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After hours of wandering the streets, the primal instincts screaming through his system, the urge to kill rising with every passing human and the smell of their blood, the sound of it pumping through their veins to point it made Negan’s head spin.

He eventually ended up taking refuge in the town’s local bar; The Kingdom. Run by a man named Ezekiel; who rumor had it in the supernatural community was an ancient shapeshifter. Some claiming to have witnessed the man changing into anything from a fearless wolf to a snarling tiger. Whether the rumors were true however remained to be seen. Not that it bothered Negan, he had no qualms with the shapeshifters; provided they kept out of his way.

Taking another sip of his whisky, he savored the numbing effect it had. The overpowering smell of booze and cigarette smoke masking any scent of human aroma left lingering in his nostrils.

Keeping to himself for most of the night, drinking away the hours his attention was eventually drawn to the blonde sat at the opposite end of the bar. The real estate agent that sold him the house. Now dressed down in more casual wear of a low cut t-shirt; blue skinny jeans and boots. Her golden locks left untamed as they swayed loosely down her back and over her shoulders.

What was her name again? Blake something? It was definitely Blake, he’d never forget a gorgeous face like hers. There was something rather alluring about her; drawing him to her like a moth to a flame.

Even as he began making his way towards her; he knew it was a terrible idea. Then again most of the best experiences of his life had all started with bad ideas...

“Anything else Miss Blake?”

“Give the lady whatever she wants Ezekiel, it’s on me.”

Her green orbs met his as she turned on her bar stool, flashing him a smile. Clearly remembering him. 

“That’s very kind of you Negan, I’ll have another peach schnapps please...”

Negan wrinkled his nose at her order; a small smirk playing against his lips. While she simply shrugged, taking the glass from the bartender.

“Before you say anything, I know it’s a weak drink order but I prefer the fruity stuff... so sue me.”

“Hey you’ll get no judgment from me doll.”

The time passed faster than Negan would’ve liked it too, purely from the genuine enjoyment of being in this woman’s company, they talked about everything from jobs to family and everything in between. He’d even had it in him to crack a few terrible jokes just for the pleasure of hearing the blonde laugh.

He’d noticed two things about her in the few hours they’d gotten to know one another...

One; she played with her hair when she was nervous, pulling small strands of her gold mane around her fingers while spoke and he found it goddamn adorable.

And two; she was single. She didn’t wear any kind of ring wedding or engagement and in all the hours they’d spent talking, she never once mentioned she was involved with anyone.

When the time came for her to leave; he actually found himself feeling disappointed. But he’d kept his cool and bid her a goodnight before eventually calling it a night himself and heading outside for one last smoke before heading home.

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Stepping into the cold brisk air; he felt the chill dancing down his spin as he leaned against the wall pulling his cigarette packet out his jacket pocket, drawing a cigarette to his lips, lighting it and taking a deep lung full of smoke before letting it out. A few more drags here and there, breathing out the cloud of smoke away from his lips.

He was interrupted by the sound of smashing trash cans in the side alley near the bar. Causing Negan to roll his eyes at the disturbance. Damn drunks. He’d thought about avoiding the alley on his way home, having no interest in whatever the assholes had decided to start throwing punches over. Wasn’t his business and he didn’t care. However when the very familiar feminine muffled voice followed the scuffle was when he stood to attention.

“Please let me go!”

Oh he definitely knew that voice, not even hesitating as he threw his cigarette to the ground and ran to the alley’s entrance.

There she was, Blake. Her mascara running down her face, blood trickling down from her forehead. Struggling in the grip of a man with his arms wrapped around her waist, his head craning round to the exposed flesh on her neck.

Fucking Alexandrian’s. He’d thought the deal they’d had with Grime’s Clan was solid until the bastard had decided to rebel and now his guys were running hell all over town…some going rogue and taking any human that struck their fancy, most of the time killing and letting Negan’s Clan take the blame for it. And the sight of her in pain so afraid, made Negan’s whole body shake with anger.

Letting the primal instincts take the lead as his face snarled in pure rage, fangs drawing out ready for the taste of blood.

He was at Blake’s side in an instant. His strong hands taking firm grip of the attacker and vigorously dragging him away from the blonde. He didn’t have time to react as Negan fiercely took hold of his neck, jerking his head to the side so hard with a powerful twist until he felt his spine click in his palms. But the opposing vampire continued to fight back, his strength fading rapidly.

Negan extended his fangs; a wolf-like growl leaving his lips as he plunged his teeth into the man’s neck. Chewing and gnawing throwing his head back as he tore the man’s throat open. Vampire blood was known for being bitter; he’d probably need another bottle of whiskey just to get rid of the taste. He let the body slump to the ground as it landed with a sickening thud in a pool of its own blood. Spitting the remain stains of crimson that coated his tongue, he wiped the corners of his mouth on his jacket sleeve before turning back to Blake, his fang now retracting back into place.

It wasn’t a surprise when he found the blonde cowering in the corner of the alley. But needless to say it still hurt. Seeing the fear in her eyes now after spending most of the night staring into them. But it was to be expected.

Looking at himself now covered in blood, Blake inching further away from him…he realized there’d be no way she could ever see him as anything else other than a monster now. She was an innocent, pure and light as air.

She fought back tears, holding herself as her arms hugged her sides, her legs crossed underneath her. He tried to move closer to reassure her that he wasn’t a threat but she just flinched away again.

“Don’t! Don’t come any closer!...What....What the hell are you?!”

“I’m something you do not wanna get mixed up in, Peaches. Trust me.”

After all, what angel could ever fall for the Devil?

[cnfhumss12a-blog]

Receipts of Binondo

By Ingrid Deldgado

When I was a child, I used to spend my nights helping my father in his home office just a floor below our family bedroom. Night after night, I would pull out handwritten receipts, all crumpled and stained with blood, from his old Seiko wallet and read it aloud to him. These receipts were from the meat supply business my family that has been passing on since my great grandfather started the business almost a hundred years ago. I would always goggle at these tiny scraps of paper, trying to decipher my father’s unique handwriting, as they lay carelessly scattered around the house. It didn’t take too long for me to recognize each scrawled word and memorize certain institutions that regularly appeared in the address line. The names Ha Yuan, Toho, and Sa Lido in particular remained stuck in my head because I always found them funny when reading out loud. It wasn’t until recently did I found out that Ha Yuan, Toho, and Sa Lido were not just names of old Chinese businessmen. It was, as a matter of fact, Chinese restaurants named after the old Chinese businessmen (close enough, though) along the business districts of Binondo.

 As someone born and raised in Manila, the Binondo district wasn’t a stranger in my stream of consciousness. For one, I’ve known it as the birthplace of my former school’s Mother Foundress (Venerable Ignacia of the Religious of the Virgin Mary, potentially the first Filipina saint if her canonization pushes through). It was also my parents’ go-to place for furniture needs (a nice Chandelier? Soler Street has tons; new sofa? T. Pinpin has an array; plumbing needs? Sta. Elena has a gallery of toilets). And of course, I have always known it as a delivery hotspot for my father’s pork and meat supply.

When the task of finally visiting Binondo personally came at hand, my father was naturally the first person that came into my mind. It seemed that he was just as enthused at the idea as I was because he didn’t just allow me to be dropped off but also had an itinerary in mind. The day was going to be our date as we both explored the hidden charms of the old business district.

Amidst the blinding sun of high noon, my father and I rode a single motorcycle to – in his words – give me an “immersive experience” of the bustling city. Scooped up in my father’s back, I was not protected from the stench of the esteros nor from the deafening shrieks of cars parading along Ongpin Street. Of the things I wasn’t shielded from was also the pulse of the streets’ energy as people hurriedly cross from one street to the next and sidewalk vendors call out for their next customers. Binondo’s streets boast of colors against the polluted Manila skylines, with red lanterns and Feng Shui hangings hovering overhead the idle traffic and tiny shops selling colorful treats tucked in narrow eskenitas. Though Chinese New Year had well passed, traces of the celebration still loomed in the side streets. Piles of Tikoy were still on display, as were the lucky charms and crystals that blessed the streets of Binondo.

First in my Dad’s agenda was lunch at the old Toho restaurant. Toho is the home of my favorite Spicy Squid, a dish unique to Toho as it was adapted from visiting an Indonesian local’s recipe that was shared to the family owner. It married the rich taste of ginger with 3 types of bell peppers and large squids, breaded and spiced with their “secret recipe”, and sautéed in garlic, butter, and atsuete oil. There wasn’t anything grand about the restaurant aside from the fact that it was one of the oldest restaurants still standing in Binondo. As a matter of fact, it looked more like an eatery than a proper restaurant per se with its scratched walls, worn out light fixtures, and darkened tiles. Of course, I was too polite to say these while the restaurant’s current owner, Mr. Al Wong, was with us during our visit. Surprisingly, however, he shared the same sentiments as mine. He spoke of his disappointments on the gradual decline of the restaurant that he had been with his family for more than seven decades. He lamented on the fact that every day, he only sa the same faces eating at his diner. He referred to the group behind our table as the same construction workers and laborers who routinely spend their hour-long breaks drinking cheap beer and eating warm Asado as pulutan. I listened closely as he talked to my father about renovating the space, saying that he was in talks with the architect of Mary Grace Cafes in hopes of modernizing the restaurant into something millennials could enjoy and rave about, maybe even get it trending online.

           After a hearty lunch, he allowed me to take a look at the exclusive kitchen where the magic happens. The place itself wasn’t as magical since it looked even older from the inside. What – or who, rather – left me enchanted were the people working inside. I met Mang Ben, an elderly cook of the kitchen, who specializes in their trademark Pork Asado. I was fortunate to catch him in his element as he was just tossing ingredients inside a dark, large pan when I walked in. One couldn’t immediately tell that he was a chef in charge of the kitchen. He wasn’t in uniform unlike the employees visible to the customers. Instead, he was dressed in an oversized t-shirt and paint-stained shorts. He has been working in the restaurant for almost three decades, and was able to work with my now passed Lolo who used to manage the meat shop when it was still a small stall in Quiapo.

           My little tour of the kitchen ended with me watching how my favorite Spicy Squid was cooked. I also brought home some takeaway for me to munch on for dinner later. I took one last look at the gloomy restaurant, knowing that it might be the last time I see it in its original architecture from seventy years ago.

           I rode my father’s scooter once again, still fully fueled from our stopover in Toho. We decided to roam around Ongpin for a while and visit small stores selling all sorts of minerals and stones that promise calm and peace and prosperity. It’s funny how their staff must have been already immune to the charms’ effects, seeing how they can be unnecessarily rude to the street children who happen to wander carelessly into their store.

           The distasteful trip to the old charm store was followed by a stopover at Lord Stow’s which I am most excited about. I had my first Lord Stow’s egg tarts in a quick trip to Macau and since then, I would always be on the lookout for branches here in Manila. The bakery is internationally famed for its luscious, melt-in-your-mouth egg tarts. Fortunately, their small bakery in Ongpin St. was accessible and just as tasty as the ones I found abroad. The egg tarts were just as smooth and fluffy, with sweetness and saltiness waging a war as the cream filling melted in my mouth. I ordered a box of four for takeout as I made a mental note to save it for a movie I have to watch later that night.

           The final box in our itinerary list is one of Dad’s customers, hidden away at the second floor of a commercial building hosting a jewelry shop at the ground floor. With signs barely visible, I unknowingly climbed the crusty stairs of the time-worn Sa Lido restaurant. We were welcomed by the shocking sight of old Chinese men sleeping on their own tables, one with his mouth open and others asleep above a newspaper they were supposed to be reading. My dad was greeted by the gracious staff. They knew Dad by his name as he was often there to deliver rations or to collect payment. “Panganay ko” he introduced me as I was curiously smiled at by baristas manning the old drip coffee machines. We were still full from our lunch earlier which was why we just opted to take a few pictures of the restaurant. With one look, the place is easily recognizable as an authentic Chinese restaurant due to its antique furniture and Feng Shui marks around. One of the staff whose name I cannot recall (sorry, Ate!) but who Dad knew well pointed out that it is their authentic brewed coffee that garnered such a loyal following from the Chinese residents of Binondo. These patrons come back so often that they have their own mugs stored at the cafe. She showed us samples of these mugs to show how some of these even have pictures of their owners. We didn’t stay too long as not to disturbed the few but loyal clients they have at the moment and once again rode the scooter to head home.

           As I settled on the back of my father’s scooter, I began recounting the day’s events, trying to relish every detail of the day’s trip. I finally saw Toho and Sa Lido in real life. They were no longer funny names in the receipts that I gathered from my father’s worn wallet. I met the owners and the staff that allowed to have a glimpse of the life my father has been leading. I saw the friendships he had to build in order to build us a life of satisfaction – a life where I couldn’t ask for more.

Beads of sweat formed in my temples as we rode away under the scorching sun. I hadn’t realized how tired I was until I got home and fell asleep almost immediately while my father drove away to supply more of his rations. I was so tired after a day’s worth of roaming under the sun, and I began to imagine what it must have been like to do just the same for longer than I have lived, and do so always with much joy. This was his life and I am glad that I got to see this part of him through the streets of Binondo.

Gallery: https://cnfhumss12a.tumblr.com/tagged/Ingrid

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #93

“you better run, better run, outrun my gun.”

do you like your toes? no. people make fun of them because they are SOOO TINY. do you go to church? if so, do you actually pay attention?  i don't really go regularly, no, but when i do go, i pay attention. when you are home alone at night and hear strange noises, are you afraid someone is going to break in?  sometimes. i'm paranoid like that. do you want any tattoos? if so, where? i want lots. the only places off-limits to me is my face, my breasts (don't mistake that for sternum area), and probably my ass. are any of your friends virgins?  i'm aware at least one is, but it's not my business regardless. ever held a newborn animal? kittens, yes. can you name a single song by billy joel without looking it up? i can list multiple: "uptown girl," "moving out (anthony's song)," "piano man," etc... i grew up listening to billy joel 'cuz my dad loves him. do you wish life functioned more similarly to video games, such as having a save file that you could return to after you make a mistake & therefore you could erase that from happening & start over anew? huh. not sure, honestly... do you try to avoid burping in public, or are you open about it? after all, it is a normal bodily function. i try to do it quietly. have you ever refused to read / watch / listen to something simply because a lot of people really liked it? no, that's remarkably stupid. if you have a dog, are they friendly to strangers or other dogs? teddy loves new dogs and is initially apprehensive of strangers and will bark, but then starts crying excitedly lol. cali hates strangers in general. she won't bite or anything, but she'll growl and shake a lot. it takes a while for her to warm up to strangers. bentley just follows along with the other dogs. is it hard for you to get along with people that have different opinions than you? or can you ignore all of that stuff and be friends with just about anyone? it's honestly not hard for me at all, so long their opinions aren't just blatantly harmful. be honest, did "fifty shades of grey" arouse you in any way? never watched it, never will, because i'm not interested in watching a glorified porn. do you think you’d have what it takes to shoot someone if you had to protect yourself?   i know i'd have what it takes if i had no other choice. did you parents know what gender you were before you were born? i think, but i do know that i was initially thought to be a boy because my legs were always crossed in all the ultrasound pictures. i'm such a lady. :T do you have trouble reading small fonts?  depends on the font. roughly how hot are the summer temperatures where you reside? 90s, sometimes 100s. ew. do you find watching animals in their natural habitat to be exciting & fascinating?  YES. of all the decisions you have thus far made in your life, which was the best & which was the worst? best: going to holly hill; worst: rather not talk about. discarding the fact that they can smell & tend to get dirty a lot, do you like your feet, or feet in general? i absolutely loathe feet. they're just gross. do you have a favorite film, if so, what is it and why?  "alice in wonderland," tim burton's version. i just love that movie so much because it goes to show just how endless the imagination is. what was the last piercing you got? how much did it hurt? lip. and it hurt a lot, i mean, there's a needle jabbing through an extremely sensitive area. who was the last teacher to make a lasting impression on you? coach collie<3 that man is a saint. i wish i still had contact with him. would you breastfeed your child, if you ever had/have had one? probably? breast milk has so many more important nutrients. i'll never forget this diagram i saw at the hospital while ashley was having one of her kids and it showed just how much more nutrients breast milk has versus formula milk. but i don't want kids, so i'll never make that decision. have you ever slept naked?  no. i'd be way too uncomfortable. have you ever given someone oral sex? yes, and i don't like it. have you ever cuddled with someone that wasn’t a significant other? no. if you’re in a relationship, does cuddling with someone else count as cheating?  yes. when typing, what do you use to represent laughter [lol, ha, hehe, *giggle*, etc.]? lol or ha ha do you know how your parents met? if not, is that something you would want to know?  they met at work. do you ever roleplay? online on designated forums, yes. never in real life. have you ever seen the movie "matilda"? yes!! i love that movie!! do you have a poster of your favorite band/artist on your wall? metallica, yes. is your mall nice? NO. people being shot and fighting there aren't exactly uncommon. are you hard to handle? i'm mentally ill. obviously. have you ever had your eyebrows waxed?  yes. what color was the last bathing suit you wore? black. have you ever been to cracker barrel? yes. do you like your steak rare? medium well. how much younger or older would you date someone? i wouldn't date younger than 21, and i wouldn't date older than like 29. have you ever lived with a girlfriend/boyfriend?  yes. what’s your favorite book series?  it'll probably all be "warriors" by erin hunter. how can a person tell if you’re mad or annoyed? i mumble, scowl, and barely talk. and if i do, i speak as short sentences as possible. do you actually use the camera on your phone? NO. the camera on my phone is AWFUL. if i wanna ever take selfies, i use my old phoen. do you think it’s ignorant for people to have unprotected sex when they’re not ready for a child? obviously?? are there any specific piercings you would never, ever get done? eyebrow, smiley, nipples, and whatever the fuck that piercing is where your private gets pierced. i'm sure i'm forgetting others. what’s your favorite non-animated disney film? probably "a cinderella story" do you know anyone who had to have tubes put in their ears as a baby? yeah, me. were either of your parents baptized?  i don't know. mom, probably, since she was raised roman catholic. has anyone killed one of your pets before?  people have run over our cats before. do you have a push lawnmower or a riding lawnmower? we don't mow our own lawn, so we don't have one. we have a friend who does it. what is/are your pet[s] doing at this moment?  the dogs are sleeping and venus is curled up like a total cinnamon roll in her rock. describe the main problem with your last relationship? he wanted an extrovert, which i was unwilling to fake being. are you someone who has to hide the things you like around friends?  yes, i am totally that person. i get embarrassed about the things i enjoy, idk why. have you ever been to a porn website? were you addicted to it afterword?  no, and i never will. what is the most disgusting thing you think the opposite sex can do? be abusive. have you actually been through a devastating natural disaster before? multiple hurricanes. hurricane floyd was the worst. what fast food place, in your opinion, has the best french fries? bojangle's like yaaaas do you believe one day aliens might take over the planet earth? no, i don't. is it currently your favorite season? if not what is your favorite? no. my favorite's probably autumn, but winter almost ties it. do you like soda pop? if so, which is your favorite and least favorite? mountain dew's my fave, pepsi's probably the worst. do you have any siblings you’re embarrassed about being related to? no. i'm proud of my siblings. do you ever talk to people you met online through webcam? or is that weird? no. way too awkward. who was the last person you kissed and why did you kiss this person? tyler, and because i felt obligated to. is there a day you’d just like to forget? which one? the day i attempted suicide, the night jason broke up with me and the whole day afterward... when was the last time someone dumped you?  august or september of 2015. do you like dark chocolate or white more? what about milk chocolate? out of those two, i prefer dark because i hate white, but my favorite's milk. how many times have you seen star wars? be honest. i've never watched star wars. are you good at memorizing phone numbers? NO. i don't even know my own phone number. the only one i know is my mom's. have you ever made your own website? yep. do you like men who have a sensitive side? having a sensitive side is mandatory for me if you want me to like you at all. have you ever tried to get someone into a certain band/artist?  kinda indirectly. and it worked lmao be honest, does the person you like actually deserve you? or are they actually not worthy of your affections? it's more like idk if i deserve /him/ would you ever go on "fear factor"? no. would you ever wear black lipstick? do you know anyone who does? i do wear black lipstick if i ever do wear lipstick. would you rather be a successful writer or artist?  OHHHHHH now THAT'S a good question! i don't know! what is your favorite christmas movie? jim carrey's "how the grinch stole christmas" have you ever attended a religious or private school? does sunday school count? ever suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder?  yes. i think i'm fully recovered by now though. what is the shortest relationship you have ever had with someone?  less than 24 hours. do you like korn?  HEEEEEEEEEEEEEELL YEEEEEAAAAH when you were little, did you pick up worms? do you pick worms up now?  yes and no did you like the movie "finding nemo"? it was one of my favorites as a kid. i still love it. which part of your state/province do you live in [upper, lower, middle]? the east. when was the last time you went out of state? last summer for ashley's wedding. do you like paranormal stuff? YAAAAAAAAAAAAAS what letter does your surname begin with? "d" what is one food you couldn’t live without? pizza @-@ when you’re eating pizza do you add anything like crushed peppers, parmesan cheese or hot sauce to it? i used to always have it with hot sauce... i need to do that again, it was awesome. have you ever been able to pet a normally wild animal, like a tiger or dolphin?  i don't think so. where is your dad from? ohio where is your mom from? new york if you could find one long lost friend of the past, who would it be?  megan do you consider how you act online to be different than you act in person? in some areas, yes. i'm more open and excitable online. have you ever written a short story/novel? yes. do you believe in the paranormal or cryptids?  paranormal, yes, some cryptids. which dinosaur is your favorite?  spinosaurus! would you ever play with a ouija board?  no. i don't know if i believe they work, but i sure as hell don't wanna find out. which side of your family are you closest to? mom's would you want to work at the same place as your significant other? no. i personally need some space. would you rather die or eat another human being?  i'd rather die. is there anything that you and your friends simply can’t agree on? yes; most of my friends are liberal, and i'm more on the conservative side. but i don't even agree with some of my conservative friends because i'm not entirely conservative myself. who was the last person to comment on your facebook status? what does the comment say? i was hesitant to do so, but i updated on how i've been doing since my "incident" in february. i fucking scared everyone that day and wanted to let everyone know how great i've been doing. but anyway, it was my friend maria, and i don't remember off the top of my head, but she said a lot about how she loves me and that i'll always have god. she is SUCH a sweetheart, miss her<3 what are three reasons you’ve smiled or laughed most recently?  markiplier, rhett&link, and then probably pewdiepie. youtubers legitimately keep me going lol. think about your ex, your crush, or the person you’re currently dating. Were you attracted to that person as soon as you met them, or did the attraction develop over time? do you mean physically or mentally? physically, i actually thought he was kinda weird-looking but still attractive in some weird way, and mentally, i thought he was very interesting. which do you use the most, smiley faces, kisses or hearts?  various emoticons that are usually smiley faces of some sort. is there any kind of food or drink that you used to love, but now hate? sprite. it was my favorite soda. now i just don't like it. who is your favorite disney channel person?  raven symone, off the top of my head. what do you have pierced? ears, bottom lip when you take surveys, are your answers inspired by the person's before you? occasionally do you know any immigrants? yeah. do you know how to look after yourself away from home? (budget, pay pills, feed yourself, cook, clean, do laundry etc.) not really, to be totally honest... do you like dried fruit at all? what's your favorite type?  i hate dried fruit. where is the biggest window in your house? the living room. is there any song out there that just amazes you every time you hear it?  probably "fade to black" by metallica. the solo is so fucking amazing. do your pets spazz out a lot?  the dogs, especially teddy, bark at EVERYTHING does it bother you when people write "hai" instead of "hey", or are you one of those people?  no. i do it rarely. does your dad have any tattoos? no. how often does it snow where you are? does it interrupt your day-to-day life? like... once every other year or at least a little bit every year. and it almost never does. do you get really bad periods? if so, what do you do to make them less painful?  not anymore. they used to be horrendous before i went on the pill. but if i do cramp anyway, i use a heating pad and take advil. do you prefer zebra stripes, tiger stripes, or leopard spots? tiger stripes. have you ever held a snake?  many times. have you ever seen a volcano? no. have you ever met an alaskan? i've never actually *met* her, but i have a friend who's from alaska. she may still live there, i can't remember. did you ever play spyro? I STILL PLAY THAT SHIT BROTHER do you think mouse traps are wrong? the more inhumane ones, absolutely. who is your favorite fictional character?  pyramid head what's your favorite board/card game? board game, i guess clue, but i don't really like board games. card game, "magic: the gathering." have you met the last person you kissed’s parents? no. who is the first person you see in the mornings? always mom. she sleeps on the couch just outside my room. have you ever kissed anyone you weren’t dating? no. are you friends with your best friend’s boyfriend or girlfriend? i don't have a *best* friend, but i'll answer this question for the two people i'm closest with. one doesn't have a boyfriend, the other's married. her husband's cool. there’s a serial killer in your house, what do you do? climb out a window. can you commit to one person and one person only? yes, that's the only thing i want to do in regards to a relationship. i'm strictly monogamous. how many different colleges have you gone to? two do you believe it is possible for someone to change? i take two things daily and then another if i need it. are you a submissive person?  usually, very. do you believe everyone should learn another language while still a child? hmmm. maybe. how do you feel about tattoos and piercings?  love 'em. great form of expression. do you care what people think?  a bit too much. did you like kissing the last person you kissed or the one before that more? the one before by fucking eons is there anybody you think is hot over the age of 40? james hetfield, baby. yummy. are you embarrassed to buy condoms? i never have, but i'm not sure if i would be. probably not so long as i had other things with me. but i'd still most likely use self-checkout. have you ever picked wild flowers? yeah. have you ever seen a mountain in person?  yes<3 do you prefer jam or butter on your biscuits?  jelly have you ever explored somewhere abandoned?  yes. which season do you think is the prettiest? autumn have you ever found a four-leaf clover? yes. true story, we noticed a four-leaf clover patch in our front lawn the day after my father left the family. what's your favorite type of bird? barn owls when was the last time you made out with somebody? like a year and a half ago what month of the year was your mother born?  august what's your favorite type of bread? pumpernickel, yum. do you share a middle name with any of your siblings? yes. do you consider your goals easily achievable or are they pretty grand?  in-between, i guess? my main goal is to be a successful photographer, and photography is a veeeeeery competitive industry. did the last person you kissed have piercings? yep, lip piercings. do you believe that your first true love can be your only love in life? (s)he can be, sure. are your boobs real? yeah. is the last person you kissed mad at you?  most likely would you ever be a stripper?  under no circumstance. who was the last baby you held? ryder, my nephew. do you believe there's two sides to every story?  i mean sure. don’t you miss chuck e. cheese? of course. i loved that place. would you ever get a tattoo on your collar bone? i have one on my collar bone. what do you think of girls with huge boobs that don’t wear bras in public? i don't care if you have small or big boobs, wear a bra in public, please. do wasps scare you?  YEAH have you ever worn flipflops in the snow?  lol yes do you like the ends of bananas? i don't eat the end. have you tried playing cranium? yeah. i loved those games. what was the one where you were at a festival? that was my favorite. did you own a playground set when you were younger?  a swing and a slide. do you know how to use photoshop? only very minor things. how about sony vegas? yes. when people smoke around you, does it make you cough? yes. have you ever suspected your mom or dad of having an affair? not entirely. mom claims that dad cheated on her, but honestly? i doubt that very much. my mom lies about my dad a LOT. who was your most romantic moment with?  jason who does your most embarrassing moment involve?  jason. who is your oldest friend?  he's 30-ish. sam. your youngest?  17. chelsea. who have you known the longest?  that's still my friend? colleen or summer, not sure. what was your favorite tv show as a kid?  pokemon what do you think makes crop circles?  very bored people. what are you most known for?  being addicted to meerkats lol who's your favorite cousin?  i don't really have one, considering i'm not very close to any? but audrey or brenna are the ones closest regardless. what would you do in the event of an apocalypse? die, obviously? what teacher inspired you the most? how did they? coach collie. he was so wise and intelligent and caring. would you rather go fully blind or fully deaf? blind. i couldn't live in silence. what are your feelings on feminism? people tend to take it WAY too far. describe your first relationship?  it was puppy love. we were close friends and both thought it was more when it really wasn't. describe your last relationship?  a worthless endeavor. wanted to like him when i really didn't, and he proved why i didn't. name all the pets you’ve ever had. trigger (collie), angel (lab), teddy (beagle/cocker spaniel/collie), dale (cockapoo), harley (lab/pit), delilah (don't know what she was), cali (boxer), bentley (jack russel mix), charcoal (cat), eeyore (cat), aphrodite (cat), oreo (cat), chance (cat), bobbie (cat), cheshire (cat), loki (cat), lexi (cat), at the minimum like 30 other cats, squeak (guinea pig), snickers (guinea pig), harry potter (guinea pig), another guinea pig, eurydice (gerbil), another gerbil, rhoka (rat), tezzeret (rat), rhett (rat), link (rat), mona lisa (ball python), cato (ball python), venus (ball python), shadow (chinese water dragon), and i'm sure i'm forgetting some... we've just had sooo many pets. do you put posters on your bedroom walls? my walls are covered in posters and drawings. has anyone ever told you that you’re a good singer?  yeah, but i'm not. do you have a lot of hair on your arms? or none at all?  i guess i have a normal amount. what would you do if you were stuck on a boat in the middle of the ocean? oh my god. i've no idea. probably just wait until i starve to death if there was no way to contact anyone. would you ever sell your soul?  no. what was your class song when you graduated? that stupid fucking "this is how we roll" song because i went to school with a bunch of rednecks. what's the scariest living animal that you've petted? rose-haired tarantula. do you brush your tongue with your toothbrush? of course what do you order at chik-fil-a? just the chicken sandwich. soooo good, are you a good kisser? supposedly. do you like 80’s music?  '80s metal, hell yeah. what kind of music are your parents into? mom, heavy metal, dad, classic rock cupcakes or muffins?  hmmm. muffins, maybe. do you prefer the beatles or the rolling stones? the stones do you prefer candles or incense?  incense which fictional villain is your favorite?  harley quinn what nationality is your last name?  scottish do you think trenchcoats are attractive on guys?  hell yeah did you rollerblade as a kid? do you still rollerblade? dude i was a boss rollerblader as a kid. i haven't been in a long time though. when was the last time you drank strawberry milk? all the way back in elementary school when i tried it for the first time. it was fucking awful. never had it again. do you own a pair of fingerless gloves?  i have multiple from my high school days. which of britney spears’ songs is your favorite?  "toxic" is a classic which did you have taken out last, your tonsils, appendix, or your wisdom teeth?  i still have all those. is your father homophobic?  i actually don't know. pencil or liquid eyeliner? pencil. i can't do liquid. have you ever applied make-up on a guy, for any reason at all? ha ha ha yes. i gave jason a makeover once. do you like any of the songs on "twilight," or the actual movie/saga itself?  for some reason, i specifically remember my little sister watching one of the movies on christmas one year and i remember "supermassive black hole" by muse was on there. i love that song. would you rather learn more about space or more about the ocean? space. do you have a mental illness? if yes, how have you learned to cope with it? if no, do you ever suspect you may have one? i have chronic depression, severe anxiety, either bipolar ii or bpd, plus i'm pretty much recovered from ptsd. and honestly, the main reason i'm able to cope with it all is because i'm properly medicated. but also deep breathing is a life saver. also continuously trying to think logically is very important. have you ever been tempted to start life over somewhere else? yeah. mom once contemplated letting me live with my cousins in new york when i was still really bad after the break-up, but i didn't want to. do you have a favorite character from the avengers?  loki and thor. do you like sprinkles on your ice cream? noooo. i don't like sprinkles. honestly, have you ever crashed a party before? no. which subject are you better at - science or history?  science do you know how much you weighed at birth? how much?  six or seven pounds, don't remember which. what noise does your favorite animal make?   they bark, chirp, etc. they make a lot of noises. do you like turtles, fishies, or frogs more?  hmmm. fish or frogs. choose: skygazing, or stargazing? ['skygazing', as in clouds, etc] stargazing, i assume. are you modest? i.e changing in front of others, etc? very, honestly. would ever go skydiving? what about bungee jumping? probably not, honestly. i'd be too scared of something going wrong. do you like breadsticks or dinner rolls better? why?  breadsticks, and because i just do? do you find it odd when males wear make-up and other such things?  no. do you curse in average conversations?  depends on the person i'm talking to. red, white, yellow, or pink roses? i like the pink ones that also have a peach gradient. do you ever wear colored eye liner? no. are you embarrassed about your sex life or lack thereof? no. have you ever seen a shooting star? i believe so. i've also seen a star explode! are you a comic book geek?  nope. do you think if someone is in a relationship, that it is acceptable to have sleepovers with other people of their preferred sex? honestly, no. that just sounds... weird. does the majority of the music you listen to have a lot of cursing or very little? what about when you were younger, did your parents approve of you listening to music with explicit or vulgar lyrics? some, but definitely not the majority. and mom didn't let my sisters and me listen to explicit stuff. for those who have anxiety, has anyone ever told you that you just need to calm down and actually face your fears? were you insulted or frustrated by this comment? oh, i've heard it more times than i've heard my own name. and i get both insulted and frustrated. it's ignorant as fuck to say that. what is your favorite song by coldplay? "clocks" is there something that you thought you would’ve outgrown/gotten over by now, but haven’t? forum role-play. what is your state’s largest city? raleigh, probably? maybe charlotte? do you listen to rise against?  not actively. i love their song "re-education through labor," though. have you ever taken care of a newborn baby? no, thankfully. did you play in the sand box as a kid? true shit, i created a trend of digging tunnels in the sandbox at school lmao. have you ever taken another person’s prescribed medication?   yes. pain medication. what’s important about april?  my sister's and dad's birthday are in april. would you be surprised if your parents had another baby together? well yeah, my mom's past menopause and she's also divorced to my dad... would you consider adoption?  i don't want kids. but if i did, i think i'd be more likely to adopt like a pre-teen. what’s the largest animal you’ve ever had as a pet?  a lab/pit mix. do you ever put fruit on your cereal?  ew, no. how do you usually celebrate your favorite holiday? not really with anything. :( i don't have the money for costumes. we do decorate the house, though, and carve pumpkins, but that's not usually on halloween day. do you think age matters in friendship? no. i have a close friend who's 30 and he is like my brother. are you more likely to eat when you’re bored or depressed?  depressed. do all of your exes share the same eye color?  yes. have you ever been on a ferris wheel?  yeah! are you an organ donor? yes. what would you name your pet snake if you had one?  i do have a pet snake, and her name is venus. do you like peanuts?  no.  i hate nuts. when was the last time you absolutely could not hold back your tears and broke down in a place you didn’t want to?   i'm not sure. how many tim burton movies have you seen? what do you think of his movies/animation style?   oh my, i've seen a lot.  and i adore his style; he's my favorite director. have you ever met someone who was truly insane?   at mental hospitals, yes. does anyone in your family have a serious mental illness?   my half-sister is schizophrenic. do you think you could handle having an autistic or mentally disabled child?   i don't think i could handle a kid to begin with. ever been homeless?   no, thankfully.  well, we were evicted once and i had no "permanent" house at the time, but thank god colleen let me stay with her. if you were given the chance to go scuba diving, would you?  YES! have you ever seen a live seahorse?  in aquariums, yeah.  i love seahorses. (: what color did you first ever dye your hair?   i got purple highlights. is it rare for you to feel embarrassed?   not at all.  i am like constantly embarrassed about everything. is there a website you visit regularly because it's funny/amusing?  facebook.  i go on there more for the memes than keeping up with friends lmao what’s your favorite kind of cap’n crunch?  the one that's all berries.  damn, now i want some. do you get upset when a dog jumps on you?   not "upset," but i don't enjoy it. are your bras all simple/plain or do you like having funky/colored bras? if you're a guy, do you like how girls look in bras?   i don't like plain bras.  mine have to have at least some kind of design and preferably texture. what’s the scariest thing that’s happened to you?   something i'm pretty convinced was paranormal.  i was home alone, trying to go to sleep, and my dog teddy was seriously on edge.  then he randomly jerked his head up from where he was lying beside me and started barking his head off, staring at the foot of the bed.  i'd been feeling weird all night and was fucking horrified; i tried to pull teddy's head back down because him staring with his fur raised was really scaring me, but he refused to lie his head back down.  i was fucking shaking.  he finally stopped long enough for me to call my mom almost crying.  she got our neighbor to come sleep at the house with me (my family was away at a dance competition).  and mind you, it was like, 3 am, so i was fucking terrified to the point where i was fine with waking my poor neighbor up about it.  she was very, very sweet about it, though. has an ambulance ever came to your house?  maybe?  i'm not sure, we may have needed to call when ashley had one of her episodes... ever owned a turtle?   yeah, briefly. do you like paramore?  they're okay. do you think mice are cute?   YES! is there a particular fruit that you dislike? which?   i don't like cantaloupe or pears. what's your favorite birth stone?  rubies! do you like pomegranates?  YAAAAAS as a pet, would you rather have a gecko or a turtle?   gecko! did you ever own a gameboy color? if so, what color was yours?  yes.  red. if you were going to go to the movies today, what would you want to see?  is "baywatch" out yet?  it looks funny. if you had the power to control any one of the elements, which would it be?  does darkness count?  if not, fire. at what age do you consider people to be old?   70 do you ever wear chokers?   i did in high school.  don't know if mine still fit me, though.  haven't had a reason to wear one. do bees scare you?  not bumblebees or honeybees, but like wasps and hornets, fuck yeah. do you prefer margaritas or martinis?  i've only tried margaritas, which i love. what's your favorite song by the killers?   "mr. brightside" which owl city song is your favorite?  "hot air balloon," probably. what birds do you commonly see in your town/city/province?   crows, sparrows, robins, blue jays, etc... have you ever had a tonsil stone?  no.

[danguy96]

In Light of Recent Events Regarding Magneto and HYDRA

 So, apparently, as I’ve recently heard, in the new Secret Empire series of comic books, Magneto, a villain well-known to be Jewish, is apparently siding with HYDRA in this event. Now, normally, I would be pretty pissed off about this, and, truth be told, until more information comes out (though, I doubt that will change anything, I still think that without a good explanation, this is pretty stupid. However, on the other hand, as some of you may know, I’ve actually grown pretty sick and tired over the whole “everyone I don’t like and I disagree with is a Nazi/Nazi sympathizer” (this doesn’t mean I condone or like Nazis, it just means that I don’t like hysteria), so I’ve started to try to practice not reacting to every single thing by becoming hysterical, and I just wanted to state my thoughts on this and give a somewhat quick history of HYDRA’s in-universe backstory for both the movies and the comics, and why there’s more to it than it just being a “Nazi/Neo-Nazi organization”. I hope you all don’t mind my commentary (also, just to let you know, I also learned about this stuff from other articles and research, and I do sort of paraphrase in places, but these are still my own thoughts).

 First off, I’m going to cover the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s version of HYDRA first, because that will take less time to explain than the long, convoluted history of it’s comic book counterpart. When they first appeared in the MCU, they were indeed once a part of the Third Reich’s advanced science branch, and received funding from them. However, the Red Skull recognized that in order to extend HYDRA’s influence and power, he and the organization would have to cut ties to Hitler and Nazi Germany (and in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment, despite being a Nazi himself and adopting most of the Third Reich’s Social Darwinist theories into HYDRA, even the Red Skull kind of thought that Hitler’s “master race” theory was full of shit), and so, after acquiring the Tesseract/Cosmic Cube, Red Skull and HYDRA went rogue and planned to overthrow and betray Nazi Germany once the Allies had lost, and it’s quite possible they would be even worse than Hitler and his goons were if they got their way. 

 After the Red Skull’s defeat and the fall of Nazi Germany, however, HYDRA seemed to transcend their Nazi roots, though they still retained their totalitarian and authoritarian goals with the belief that humanity could not be trusted with it’s own freedom and must be subjugated for it’s own good. When looking back on the events of the war, Armin Zola concluded the whole “German master race” thing didn’t really work and also concluded Hitler’s methods were pretty dumb and inefficient, even for HYDRA’s standards. Though they gave up working for the Nazis after their fall, they did manage to extend HYDRA’s reach into the Soviet Union (something that would’ve been impossible if they remained full-on Nazis and all of the Nazis beliefs), and, secretly, into the U.S. and SHEILD. As I said before, the HYDRA in the MCU’s present-day doesn’t seem to care that much about what your genetics say or if you have “Aryan” ancestry, and is more focused on just world domination. Hell, they move away even further from them originally being just Nazis, when it’s revealed in Agents of SHIELD that the MCU version of HYDRA has roots that actually extend back centuries and to alien influence, and that the original Nazi organization was just the latest incarnation of the group, similar to it is in the comics.

 Speaking of which, it’s about time I summed up the long history of HYDRA from the original comics, and I’ll start off with when it was first created in real life. HYDRA was originally created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby back in 1965, and first appeared in Strange Tales #135 (August 1965). While their inspirations from the Nazis was pretty blatantly evident in their early appearances (with them being under the leadership of guys who worked for the Nazi Party, Baron von Strucker and Johann Schmidt, the Red Skull), as various writers delved in their history and backstory Nazi connection sort of started to dwindle and become more vague until, even in early stories, the current incarnation of HYDRA was revealed as an organization which had roots in Imperial Japan. True, they worked alongside the Nazis during WWII, but they’ve always sort of had their own agenda. Their last remaining connection to outright Nazism, Baron von Strucker, was even shown to be a fugitive who allied his version of HYDRA with Germany's Third Reich in a grab for power before betraying them. Fleeing with the Red Skull, Strucker quickly abandoned Schmidt to join forces with a Japanese criminal organization also using the HYDRA name, because even he thought Red Skull was a monster. Though Strucker remained a constant part of Hydra until recent years, his ideology became less about Aryan supremacy and more about his own thirst for power. Later stories further retconned and clarified Strucker’s origins and motivations, placing him as the head of Hydra locked in a war with S.H.I.E.L.D. and other super-spy groups. The elements of totalitarianism, authoritarianism, and fascism still remained at Hydra’s core, but it sort of really wasn’t driven by white supremacy and racial hatred that much anymore. 

 But Hydra as a Japanese crime syndicate isn’t where the organization’s story begins, because in recent additions to HYDRA’s backstory, it turns out the group’s history spans over millions of years, including the Third Dynasty of Egypt, and has alien origins.  According to Jonathan Hickman's S.H.I.E.L.D. mini-series, which explored the secret history of the Marvel Universe (for better or worse), Hydra’s roots go back to before humans evolved, when a Before the evolution of mankind, a cabal of immortal hooded reptilian aliens came to Earth, planning to start a legacy of evil (it’s comic books, just roll with it). Millions of years later, they corrupted an Asian secret society of geniuses known as the Brotherhood of the Spear. They were opposed by a group called “The Order of the Shield” (get it, SHIELD?). Over the centuries, the Order of the Spear grew and changed, eventually becoming HYDRA – an organization that was revived in the early 20th Century in Imperialist Japan with ideals based on world domination inherited from their ancient alien masters. They also included the real life Cathari Sect and the real life Thule Society, which is where the Nazis came into the picture. You see, after the end of World War II, the Nazi sub-group of HYDRA, funded by the Thule Society, was brought into the main HYDRA fold, thus explaining how the likes Baron von Strucker and the Red Skull came to join and lead their ranks. 

 Currently in comic books, Hydra has splintered into several separate factions , but there are two main groups: one led by Baron Zemo, who has been trying to control what’s left of the old HYDRA, and leading a much more Darwinist version of the secret society based on survival of whomever HYDRA deems the fittest to live (usually its own members) - and one being built from the ground up, led by the Red Skull, who has returned to Nazi beliefs, and, for the first time in modern continuity, has introduced a philosophy of neo-Nazism and white supremacy into HYDRA (a move which I feel was supposed to be “topical” and “relevant”, but comes off as preachy and forced, as well as a move which over-simplified and misrepresented certain issues, something which Marvel has been terribly guilty of over the past few years).

 So, to answer, “Is HYDRA a Nazi organization?” Well, the answer is yes, and no. While it is clear that HYDRA’s original real world roots are planted in the idea of neo-Nazi terrorists, for a good portion of their history, they’ve also served the role as your run-of-the-mill supervillain terrorist organization, associating themselves with all kinds of tyrants and criminals throughout history, usually with whatever is considered a threat in real life at the time of when the story is written. 

 Now, going back to Magneto, do I think it’s a good move for him to join HYDRA? Of course I fucking don’t! Even if they’re not technically a Nazi organization anymore, he’d still hate their guts for associating with the Nazis, and he’d especially hate the like of the Red Skull. However, the important thing to remember is that while Magneto is a Holocaust survivor and a tragic figure, he’s also a character who has sought out the domination and/or extermination of humans several times in the past, as he is meant to show that if we allow ourselves to be consumed with hate and revenge, we end up being no better than the people we hate. Yes, he’s had a couple of changes of heart over the years, but still, it’s important to note that Magneto is no saint, either, even if isn’t as bad as the Red Skull (at least in the 616 universe). Still, I don’t think that Magneto would join HYDRA unless there was a reason, like him getting something out of it (though, I do think he would be wary in case they planned to double cross him), or if he was forced to do it for some reason, or if he was mind controlled, the last of which may possibly be the case (Captain America was basically brainwashed into thinking he’s a HYDRA sleeper agent, so I’m not gonna rule out the possibility of that being the big “twist”). Though, something to note is that the brainwashed Cap is currently planning with Baron Zemo to kill Red Skull and depose him from HYDRA (I take it that Zemo probably doesn’t really like how Red Skull is trying to bring back full-on Nazi ideology into HYDRA, even if they fascist terrorists, at least I assume/head-canon that, because it makes the books a tiny bit more tolerable, but not by much), and that Secret Empire looks like the result of his success in that endeavor, so one of my predictions is a combination of brainwashing to bring Magneto into the group, as well as him being a part of the anti-Red Skull faction.

 The one thing I’m shocked at is that I’m probably one of the few people who sees it less as “anti-Semitism” (and believe me, anti-Semitism is a problem, but I don’t looking for it everywhere I see), and more for what it really is; a cheap gimmick made to make people talk about it, even when the story itself hasn’t been released yet. Marvel wants this kind of reaction. They want dozens of articles, blog posts, tweets, and videos fueled by anger and controversy, just like they wanted this reaction from the Hydra!Cap fiasco. If they can’t sell comics by promoting them, then they decide to sell them and get people to talk about them based on controversy. I bet you that when the actual story comes out, it’s gonna end up being one of those things explained away with “it was brainwashing/magic/whatever”. I wasn’t surprised when it turned out to be the case with Hydra!Cap, and I’m not gonna be surprised if that it turns out to be the case with Hydra!Magneto. 

 I feel the best way to “protest” this is to not give in to this obvious publicity stunt like Marvel wants, and just not talk about and give it no attention when the story actually does come out, and then wait until the dust has settled to talk about. Speaking of which, as i said before, this outrage is sparking before the story even officially comes out or is even finished, and while I did just say that we shouldn’t give attention or make any puff pieces about it until the story arc is over with, I still say we should wait until the actual story comes and we learn everything about it (for better or worse), before critiquing it. When it finally does come out and we a whole lot more about it, then we can complain for (hopefully) good and/or justifiable reasons.

I’m sorry that this was long as shit, because I originally didn’t mean it to be like this long. I just really, really get annoyed when people simplify HYDRA as a “nazi/neo-Nazi organization”, because that just show signs of either not knowing a good amount of comic book history, or showing that you don’t actually read comics. I’m not condoning or “apologizing” for Nazism or white supremacism in any way, it’s just that I’m giant nerd who doesn’t like it when people make glaring mistakes and are ignorant of comic book history. Though, to be fair, it is a common misconception, made by both casual fans and even writers who don’t know comic history (something which they definitely should learn), but it still grind my gears when anyone makes any sort of big mistake regarding comic books (just see the numerous times I had to remind people that Harley Quinn isn’t exactly an innocent, quirky little cinnamon roll, when especially after she blows up children with bombs). 

[semisweetfics]

I Want To Love You

Angsty peterick thing i came up with; basically Pete is pining over Patrick feat. Bronx and Ashlee (don’t even ask but she’s kinda chill in this?? just because I don’t really know her so i figured screw it :/ )

EDIT: this gets rlly fluffy and gay further down, idek

Pete's eyes never left his son. bronx was running all over the little playground in the park, kicking up woodchips, laughing and hollering, blond curls bouncing as he ran.

while his eyes stayed trained on his son, his mind wandered, so much so that when the tentative hand touched his shoulder he jumped.

Ashlee was standing over him, a confused but concerned look on her face. He sighed as she sat on the bench beside him, trying to straighten up and force himself to smile.

"Cut the bullshit Wentz," she said immediately, tone light ," I still know you, I can tell when something's wrong." There was a sudden panicked look on her face and she turned her head to the park. "Is something wrong with Bronx?"

Pete shook his head, huffing as he hurriedly answered her. "No, Bronx is fine. I'm just.. Personal problems, that's all."

Ashlee nodded understandingly, chewing her lip. "Do you want to talk about it?" She asked finally, her voice quiet. Pete hesitated for a moment, looking down at his hands.

Finally he swallowed the lump in his throat and looked back at the park, watching Bronx play again. "I.. It's Patrick."

Ashlee nodded, suddenly understanding. "You two fighting again?" Pete shook his head, eyes down. He nudged a pebble with the toe of his shoe.

The wind picked up for a moment, and Pete paused, letting it blow through his hair and ruffle Ashlee's black sundress. "I think I'm in love with him." he whispered.

Ashlee snorted, covering her mouth to hide her laughter. Pete's head whipped around to stare at her, shocked and angry and hurt that she would laugh at him. She shook her head, patting his arm gently.

"Oh Peter, of course you are. The whole fucking world knew, and you're only just now figuring it out? Hell, even I knew."

Pete rolled his eyes, ignoring the way his cheeks flushed with heat. Ashlee was suddenly quiet, and she let them sit in silence for a moment.

It was a warm day, at least. Sunny and cloudless, a dry heat that could only be found in California. As much as he loved Chicago, spring in LA was pretty nice too.

"So what's the problem then? You love him, but why do you seem so sad about it?"

"Because," Pete sighed, leaning back against the bench," I doubt he feels the same way, and even if he did, the media shitstorm that would follow probably isn't worth it." Ashlee nodded, understanding.

"Did you talk to Meghan?" Pete nodded. Though he and Meghan had split, at least it was quiet and mutual. They were still kind of friendly, and Meghan seemed fine with bringing Saint by often, and sometimes just letting Pete keep him for a week or so at a time if she had work.

"Well?" Ashlee pressed, slightly annoyed that Pete was pulling the 'silent-tortured-lover' look again. "She thinks I should tell him when I'm ready. That it'd be good for me.."

Ashlee nodded, leaning back beside him. "And I agree. Pete.." She sighed, looking away from him.

Pete looked over; Ashlee seemed older now, her hair pulled back in a tight pony tail, laughlines beginning to form on her face. Her eyes, still so bright, seemed calculating and distant.

Suddenly she looked over at him, a bittersweet smile pulling at her lips. "Peter, you've always loved him. Even with me, even with Meghan, with every other relationship you've ever been in, you've always loved Patrick Stump. He's different for you, isn't he?"

Pete nodded, heart constricting in his chest. "He.. I've never felt this way about anyone else in my entire life Ash. I want him to be happy always, want to stick with him even through all the fights and the bullshit and both of our fucked up self esteems. I don't wanna rush in to this, I don't just want sex from him, I.. I don't want to risk a relationship if it means not having him in my life anymore," Pete said the last line softly, tears forming in his eyes as he looked down.

"Loosing you nearly killed me," he whispered, glancing at her apologetically,"but when the hiatus happened.. When.. When Patrick and I fought.. I think I really did die then Ash. My heart shattered when me and you split but it dissolved when he left, when he hated me.." Pete swallowed the lump in his throat, wiping the tears off his face.

He stared at the ground as silence fell over them, relishing in the gentle air. The sound of the highway, of children playing nearby, and of birds above him seemed to help keep him grounded.

Ashlee finally broke the silence, carefully placing her hand on Pete's back.

"I'm sorry. About what happened with us, even though we're in a better place now," Pete nodded his agreement, sniffling," But I'm especially sorry about the hiatus.. I saw how bad you got, Pete." The bassist stiffened, sitting up and looking over at his ex-wife. She smiled apologetically.

"I spoke to some old friends.. They said you lost so much weight, that you barely left your house.. That even with Black Cards you seemed so reclusive, that you got into a bad place again.."

Pete nodded, trying hard not to remember that. The months, years, of depression and loneliness and hatred towards himself didn't sit too well.

"But Pete.. Patrick came back to you." he focused, staring at her suddenly. There was a small smile tugging at her lips, and she brushed her manicured nails over the back of his hand. "He came back Pete. He still loved you, still cared. I bet you anything in the world that he missed you just as much. And he's so happy to be back.. I can tell, even just through twitter. You're so happy together.. "

Ashlee shook her head, pulling away from Pete. "You need to tell him. Really, I think it'd be good for you. At the very least it'd be out in the open and not eating you up inside. Patrick is a nice guy, even if you told him and he didn't feel the same, he'd forgive you. He'd still be your best friend."

Pete smiled, tension slowly leaving his body. She wasn't Patrick, not by a long shot, but Ashlee did manage to calm him down. She was right.. Patrick wouldn't abandon him again. The last time really did nearly kill them both.. They'd be okay.

There was a sudden squeal of delight and a blur of blond hair as Bronx noticed his mother and ran over, hugging her tightly. Pete grinned at he watched his son chatter away excitedly to his mom. Ashlee met his eyes and smiled, nodding at him as she stood.

"Thanks for the talk Ash," Pete said, getting to his feet," I'll see you in a few weeks then?" She nodded, leaning down to press her lips to Bronx's hair. "Tell your dad goodbye, and we can go get dinner, sound good?" Bronx nodded and smiled, lunging over to wrap his arms in a vice grip around Pete's legs.

The bassist chuckled, kneeling down to hug his son tightly. His heart tugged again; Pete really did adore his children. He'd do anything in the world for his tiny humans. Bronx pulled back, giving Pete a gapped tooth grin. "Love you Daddy!," he said happily, poking his father's nose. "Tell Uncle Joe and Uncle Andy I said hi!" Pete smiled, nodding. "What about Uncle Patrick?" Bronx gave him a puzzled look, his eyebrows scrunching together.

"I don't think it's uncle Patrick.. But tell him hi too!" Pete blinked his surprise, looking up at Ashlee's giggling form. 'Told you so' she mouthed, snickering at Pete's shocked expression. Pete rolled his eyes and hugged his son once more before standing up and letting go, watching sadly as he returned to his mother's side.

"Goodluck Pete," she said kindly, taking Bronx's hand." I'll see you later." Pete nodded, waving goodbye. He stood there, hands in his pockets, until Ashlee's car drove out of sight.

When Pete opened the door to Patrick’s apartment, he was sitting on the floor, playing peek-a-boo with Declan. He paused in the kitchen, watching the two play. Patrick was sitting criss-cross in front of his son, his hair poking up from the gray beanie he had yanked over his head. He obviously woke up recently; he was still in Scooby-Doo pajama pants and a red t-shirt he had worn to bed. He glanced up at Pete suddenly, smiling.

“Hey, you’re back!” Pete nodded, sitting on the floor beside him.

“Yeah, and I got the groceries you asked for on my way back. They’re all on the table because I’m lazy,” he said, grin tugging at his lips. Patrick rolled his eyes and looked back at Declan. The toddler was playing with a toy piano Patrick had gotten him, watching the lights with wonder. Pete watched his face soften, and he smiled.

Patrick started letting Pete sleep over whenever he had one of his sons. It made it easier on both of them as single fathers; having someone to run errands and do chores while the other kept the kids preoccupied. Usually Pete was left with the kids, he had a lot more energy than Patrick and loved the stupid games they came up with. But whenever one of the kids left.. Pete felt that he wasn’t needed, so he’d go back home. His empty, quiet house, surrounded by useless junk and memories.. He was sure that he’d have to go back now.

Pete snapped back into reality when there were tiny hands pulling at his shirt. Declan was practically climbing on top of him, a determined look on his face, and his clammy fists balled up in Pete’s shirt. Patrick was watching in amusement, smiling at him when Pete looked at him in confusion.

“I think he wants you to play with him Pete. He got that new truck for Christmas remember, he loves playing trucks with you.”

Pete grinned, looking down at Declan. He really was a spitting image of Patrick, soft hair and big grins. Pete hugged the boy to him for a moment before letting go, falling back onto the floor with Declan in his arms. The little boy screamed and giggled as he was held up in the air, Pete making stupid plane noises.

He heard Patrick’s camera go off, watching him take pictures out of the corner of his eyes. It made Pete’s face heat up, knowing that Patrick wanted pictures of this, of him with Declan.. No. He just wanted pictures of his baby, it wasn’t about Pete.

“Stop frowning in the picture, dingus, I have to have a nice one to send your mom.” Pete rolled his eyes, doubt and worry leaving momentarily. Declan was still giggling, screeching whenever Pete moved him. After another moment Pete sat up, carefully holding the toddler.

Patrick was watching fondly, phone in his lap. “He loves you, you know.”

Pete shrugged, attempting to will the butterflies in his stomach to go away.

Patrick kept watching him, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment, before standing.

“Um.. What do you want for dinner Pete?” He asked, walking over to the kitchen.

Pete shrugged, the butterflies dying in his stomach, replaced by a weight.

“I .. I kinda figured I’d go home. You can handle D by yourself, he’s a good kid anyway..” Pete trailed off, silenced by the look of confusion on Patrick’s face.

“Peter,” his voice was soft, the kind he used when he was trying to make Pete feel better ,” you aren’t a baby sitter you know. I like having you and the boys over; I’m not just using you as entertainment for my kid.”

Pete looked down apologetically, nodding. He heard Patrick’s sign, and soft footfalls as he came back over and sat beside him. The singer stared at Pete, willing him to look up.

Patrick’s blue eyes were stern. “I’m going to order pizza, and you’re gonna stay over. Not to babysit, not because I think you need to. But because I want you here. Okay?” Pete nodded, not trusting his voice.

It always meant so much to him that Patrick wanted him around. Not because he was in love with him, although that too, but just because he was wanted. Pete never felt like he was worth that, not even now.

Patrick smiled softly, running his hand through Pete’s hair before getting up to order. Declan looked up from his toys, watching his dad leave, before looking over at Pete.

Declan stood on shaky legs, picking up a truck from the ground and plopping onto the floor in front of Pete, holding it up to him with a smile. Pete relaxed, settling onto the floor to play trucks with him.

When Patrick returned they had completely made a mess of his living room carpet. Toys were strewn everywhere, Pete and Declan both laying on their stomachs, coloring. Declan was doing a drawing of his own, the crayon clutched tightly in his tiny fist. Pete was filling in a coloring sheet, making the printed flower pop with color, naturally adding a few little doodles of his own to the image.

Patrick quietly sat on the couch and watched, smiling when Declan looked up and noticed him. He pushed himself up off the floor, grabbing his picture and walking over to his dad. Pete turned to watch, making sure he got to Patrick without falling.

Patrick smiled, pulling Declan up onto the couch to sit beside him as he explained his drawing.

Declan pointed at one stick figure, Patrick recognizing it immediately as himself thanks to the dark-blue fedora perched on its head. “Daddy!” Declan said proudly, looking up for approval. Patrick nodded, his chest warming. Declan had been learning to speak since around 18 months, and it meant everything to him when his first word was ‘Dada’.

Declan turned back to his drawing, pointing at another stick figure. This one had spikey hair, and a large smile on his face. Declan pointed, saying Pete’s name proudly. Patrick grinned over at his best friend; he could almost literally see the bassist’s heart melting as he got up and sat on the other side of Declan.

“Aw, you drew me Dec?” Declan nodded happily, looking back down. He had drawn Bronx and Penny also, getting quite creative with his color choices. Patrick kissed his son’s head before walking over to put the drawing on the fridge, taking a picture of it. It was most certainly going to be his home screen for a while.

Patrick sat back down, choosing to see on the other side of Pete this time. Confused, Pete said nothing, only glanced at Patrick for a moment before shrugging it off.

“You wanna watch a movie?” Patrick asked, eyes flicking between his son and Pete. Both of them nodded excitedly, making Patrick grin.

They were barely an hour in to Peter Pan and Declan was asleep, pizza sauce smeared on his face. Patrick grinned when he noticed, looking at his son affectionately. He was curled into Pete’s other side, his hands balled up in Pete’s t-shirt. The sight made Patrick’s entire body warm.

He glanced up, Pete’s focus still on the movie, even though he’d seen it a million times. There was a tiny bit of pizza sauce in the corner of his mouth too. Patrick licked his thumb, his hand shaking as he reached up and wiped it away. Pete froze, his eyes going wide and breath hitching in his throat as Patrick carefully wiped at the corner of his mouth, his knuckles brushing against Pete’s bottom lip.

He pulled away, face as red as the tomato sauce. Pete blinked at him, his lips parted slightly. Patrick swallowed, stuttering as he stood.

“I’ll.. I’ll go um.. I need to put Declan to bed..” he scrambled off the couch, scooping up his son. Patrick quickly took him to his room, wiping off his face with a diaper wipe before changing him into his pajamas.

Declan stirred, blinking sleepily up at his dad. “Bed?” he asked, his voice quiet. Patrick nodded, turning on his night-light. Declan nodded, hugging his dad tightly. Patrick hugged him before tucking him in, kissing his hair.

“Daddy?” Patrick raised his eyebrows, looking at his son expectantly.

“Tell Pete bed too?”

Patrick felt his chest flutter. “You want Pete to come tuck you in too?” Declan nodded, his eyes already closing. Patrick smiled, hurrying back to the living room.

“Declan wants you to come tell him goodnight,” he said quietly, awkwardly shuffling back to his son’s room. He heard Pete follow, and stood in a corner while he walked over to Declan.

Even in the dim lighting Patrick could see how big and genuine Pete’s smile was. He sat on the edge of the bed, kissing Declan’s forehead before tucking the blankets in around him. He heard the little sigh of contentment before Pete stood, smiling as he walked quietly out of the room.

Pete sat back down on the couch in the living room, tipping his head back so that it was against the couch, his eyes closed. Patrick swallowed, trying not to stare, and jumped slightly when Pete spoke.

“You can sit down y’know Trick.”

Patrick did, hovering for a moment before sitting down beside Pete, a cautious distance away. Pete opened his eyes, turning his head to look over at his best friend, hands folded across his stomach.

Patrick really was beautiful. He looked so much healthier lately, putting on a bit of weight again since their last tour, but still so much more energetic and rested than he had been before their break. Pete could never express how proud he was of Patrick; of his album, of him for getting better, for gaining confidence and some self love.

Patrick was fidgeting, confused and slightly terrified under Pete’s gaze. The brown eyes he knew and loved so well were studying his face intently, and it made him squirm. Finally he couldn’t take the silence.

“Pete?”

Saying his name seemed to snap the bassist out of his trance. He blinked, smiling sheepishly at Patrick.

“Sorry, I was thinking..”

Patrick nodded, settling into the couch more. Cautiously, he pressed Pete for more.

“Do you want to tell me about it? You seemed kind of upset when you came back from dropping Bronx off, more than usual.. Did something happen?” There was a brief flash of anger in the singer’s eyes, something that seemed protective, that made Pete’s chest flutter. “Was Ashlee rude? If she was hateful Pete..” Patrick trailed off, shaking his head.

He didn’t like being mean to people, especially not after having his son.. But he could. Patrick could be downright terrifying when he was really pissed.

Pete shook his head, smiling at his best friend. “Nah, she wasn’t rude. Kinda the opposite actually, she tried to help me figure out some stuff..” Pete trailed off, biting his lip. This was dangerous territory, and Pete wasn’t sure how to tell Patrick.

Ashlee was right, though. He did need to tell him, and the opportunity seemed to be presenting itself.

Patrick blinked, surprised. He and Ashlee had been getting along a lot more lately, mostly for Bronx’s sake. From what he could tell, Pete and Ashlee’s conversations were always short, and always about their son.

“Oh.. Well that’s..” Patrick huffed, looking down ,” That’s good I guess. Did you figure out, um.. Everything you needed to, or..?”

Pete laughed nervously, glancing over at Patrick before staring at his hands.

“Kind of. I just don’t.. I’m scared.” Pete admitted, voice going soft. He felt Patrick’s hand rest gently on top of his own, the singer studying his face.

“Scared? Of what? Pete..” Patrick bit his lip, scooting closer slightly. “Is something wrong? Can.. Do you want me to help?”

Pete smiled. One word about something being wrong with Pete and he was worried, trying to help and make him feel better without question. God, he loved this man.

Pete bit his lip, hesitating before speaking. “I think.. I think I fell in love again.”

Patrick blinked, taken aback. Of course, Pete always got nervous and upset whenever he had his eye on someone new. Patrick ignored the burning pull in his chest, pulling his hand away numbly. He managed to smile, putting on his usual face for Pete. ‘It’s good that he’s trying again,’ he tried to tell himself, but he didn’t think he could ever believe that.

Pete watched Patrick’s expression shift, from concerned to blank to his stage smile, the kind that never touched his eyes. Pete frowned, hating that smile.

“It.. It’s not bad this time though Trick.. I.. You know him already so-”

“What?”

Patrick felt as if the breath had been knocked out of him. Him. Pete said he knew him already.

He knew Pete was bi, had known for years, but every guy he’d ever seen Pete with had been a fling, something that lasted for a few days or a week, but that didn’t mean too much to the bassist. But if he was in love..

Pete watched as Patrick mentally went through all of the guys they both knew, trying to gauge his expression.

“Yeah, him.. He’s.. I’ve loved him for a while, Patrick.”

The singer tried not to wheeze, jealousy and rejection hitting him in the face. He shouldn’t have been jealous, of course, but he had Pete to himself so much more lately, and he loved the boys.. Patrick swallowed, nodding.

“That’s.. good.” he breathed, trying to keep his voice neutral. Pete nodded, his eyes still wide and seemingly afraid. “Yeah,” he agreed, unsure of where to go from there.

“I can um.. Who is it? I could.. I could help, y’know, try to be a wingman..” Pete laughed nervously, resisting the urge to hug Patrick tightly.

“That’s the thing.. I’m pretty sure he’s straight for one, and two..” Pete trailed off, frowning. “I don’t deserve him. Not in the slightest. And even if he loved me back I.. The shitstorm that would come with it, that comes with me, probably isn’t worth the effort..”

Pete trailed off, surprised at the sudden fury in Patrick’s eyes.

“Peter Wentz,” his voice was low, edging on the tone he used when he was really pissed. “The entirety of that second part is bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit.” Patrick sat up more, looking Pete directly in the eyes, commanding.

“You are not a bad person, Pete. Not even before, when you were messing up so badly, not when we’d fight, not whenever the tabloids would spout some new fake ass story about you, never. And especially not now, now that you’ve gotten better and are taking care of your kids.” Patrick huffed, staring down at his balled up hands in frustration.

“Anyone, guy or girl or anything in between, would be lucky to have you Pete.”

Breath. Pete was supposed to be breathing, not staring at Patrick in awe and admiration.

“I..” Pete let out a shaky breath, head swimming. “Can I.. Do you want to know who..”

Patrick nodded, not looking up.

Pete steeled himself, taking a deep breath, and praying to whatever god there may be that Patrick didn’t hit him, or worse, leave.

“His name is Patrick, and I think I’ve loved him since we met,” he said, almost whispering.

The silence in the room hung heavy for a moment. He watched as Patrick’s eyes grew wide, his mouth popping open in shock before he looked up at Pete.

“I.. I mean I.. We can forget about it, if you want,” Pete was stumbling over words now, tears stinging his eyes ,”I didn’t... I can’t loose you, Trick, so if you’d rather forget about this then.. I mean, it won’t kill me, I’m sure if i tried I could.. I mean..”

Patrick shook his head, a teary smile forming on his face, “Pete, shut up?”

The bassist did as he was told, anxiously watching his best friend. Patrick was studying him, his blue eyes glassy as he stared.

“Do you mean that? That you.. That you love me?” He asked, voice barely a whisper.

“I’m more sure of that than almost anything else,” Pete admitted, voice almost as quiet. “I.. I’ve been in love with you for a long time Patrick, and I’m sorry-”

Patrick was shaking his head, a huge grin on his face as he looked at Pete. Nervousness flashed across his expression as he leaned forward. Patrick tried to keep his breathing under control as he moved close to Pete, their knees touching.

He felt Pete’s breath hitch as he cupped his face, his thumb brushing over his bottom lip. Slowly, carefully, Patrick leaned forward, watching Pete for any sign that he didn’t want this. When their lips brushed, both mens’ eyes closed, gasping as they kissed. Patrick pushed forward roughly, suddenly desperate for more.

Pete was on his back, arms wrapped tightly around Patrick’s middle. The singer had both hands cupping Pete’s face, roughly pressing their lips together. Pete opened his mouth, sighing into Patrick’s, making him shiver.

Patrick curiously licked Pete’s bottom lip, making him groan quietly. Patrick’s eyes shut tightly and he kissed him roughly again, getting as close to him as possible before pulling back.

Patrick had both hands pressed into the cushions on either side of Pete’s head, breathing heavy, staring down at him in awe. Pete was trying to catch his breath as well, lips slightly redder than their normal pink. There was the faintest blush high on his cheeks, but his eyes were bright and filling with tears.

“Patrick.” he whispered, face breaking into the dazzling smile that Patrick loved. The singer smiled, closing his eyes to rest his forehead against Pete’s. He felt so warm, shaky but content. He’d waited years for this, to get to kiss his highschool crush.

Pete squeezed him close, whispering ‘I love you’s directly into Patrick’s ear. After a moment Patrick leaned back again, smiling shyly. “Do you want to go to bed?” Pete nodded eagerly, letting Patrick tug him off the couch and down the hall.

They got ready for bed quickly, Patrick’s face bright red as he threw some pajama bottoms at Pete’s face. Nestling under the blankets, they slept better than they had in a long time, pressed as close to the other as possible.

When Ashlee brought Bronx back to Pete, he handed her chocolates and flowers wordlessly.He was more rested and happy than the last time, and she noticed a little trail of hickies poking out from under his shirt. Ashlee smiled knowingly, shaking her head as she left. 

Pete got a text when he arrived back at Patrick’s place, smiling goofily at his phone before going inside. 

Ash: if i don’t get a wedding invitation in the mail at some point, peter wentz, i will be pissed

[aspiringpolymath]

10 Things about 2016

@jenndoesnotcare tagged me in this last week, and I’m supposed to think of good things that happened last year. There were some, so this shouldn’t be too hard, except that I haven’t been great at making my thoughts into posts lately, so . . . we’ll see.

I’m going to try to work more or less chronologically.

1. At the beginning of March, Mark and I were invited to go to the anniversary dinner for a friend and his wife at The Inn at Little Washington. If you know anything about DC area restaurants, this one is always at the top of every “Best of” list. It has two Michelin stars, the whole nine yards. It was a wonderful meal, if a little intimidating to be in such grandeur. (And we didn’t have to pay for our meal! The couple picked up the whole tab. AND we got a quick kitchen tour!)

2. In conjunction with the above, we went to Monticello, something I’ve been meaning to do since I started volunteering at the Library over three years ago. Mark did his homework and bought us passes to the ‘behind-the-scenes’ tour, and I learned a lot. It wasn’t the best time to enjoy the outdoor areas and gardens, but I’m really glad I got to see it.

3. My friend from Japan (who I’ve now known for over half my life!) came to visit, and we went to the amazing installation exhibit at the Renwick, and she came to the Library and we took a picture in the “famous” bathroom mirror, which was adorable. I’m super grateful for her friendship. :)

4. PEONIES (My peonies came up a treat this year, and I had a few days where there were vases and vases of them in my house.)

5. One of my oldest friends (who I’ve known for almost ALL my life) came to visit with her husband for the second summer in a row. Last year, we did all the standard tourist things, but this year, we got to do some stuff that I hadn’t done before. Which included the Maryland State House, Fort McHenry, and the Peabody Library in Baltimore.

6. Lots of room karaoke this year . . . so much so that I got a microphone (two, actually) for Christmas and we’re going to start trying to have karaoke parties at home. It’s just so much more chill than bar karaoke. 

7. A mostly fun vacation that was bookended by MaxFunCon East II (if it wasn’t awesome I wouldn’t go practically EVERY SINGLE YEAR for the past eight years) and

8. HAMILTON (Had to get it’s own number. This was also MOSTLY fun; we went on our actual anniversary, September 10. It was on the last day of a 9 day trip, hot as BALLS, we were squished into tiny seats, only two members of the original cast performed that night (still, amazing, but we bought the tickets back in JANUARY), was on Day Two (you know what I’m on about, clotters), and I basically had a panic attack when we finally got out of the theater only to be confronted by the nightmare that is TIMES SQUARE. But still, so so happy to have seen it. Staging is incredible; everything is so well thought out and executed.)

9. Got two new states ticked off my quest to see them all with a quick trip to Portland, Oregon and a road trip to Mount Saint Helens in Washington. There was some weirdness, but mostly: POWELL’S (and seeing friends and going to the Japanese Gardens and delicious food and finally seeing a Portlandia part of Portland in the last couple of hours of our trip)

10. I was pretty proud of ‘organizing’ a work outing to the Botanic Gardens. We did it last year with just three of us, and this time, half the office came, and it was just really nice! It wasn’t my sole effort, but I sparked the idea, and I really like having a lovely group of co-workers who are pals, as well. :D

Other random things that were/are also great: being able to see my family several times a year. I visited in March and June, and they came to see us in September, and we spent Christmas in Ohio, as well. I’m super lucky to both love AND like my parents (and my little brother, too), so going home is mostly a treat for me.

I went to some other fun events this year: was almost front row at OH, HELLO, saw the Bernie/Trump parody debate (more fun than the real thing!), Daughter at the 9:30 club (bit bizarre, but good), Lindy West’s awesome reading at Kramerbooks, Jackie Kashian and Maria Bamford at the Warner, (is that it? I’m missing something I know it.)

OH, AND. Working the swearing-in of the new Librarian of Congress and getting to meet her and talk for a moment or two was AMAZING. She is so inspiring and I hope the Library does some more educational things now that she’s at the helm (and that I get to be a part of those things-fingers crossed). (This should be somewhere in the actual numbers, so let’s just say it’s 11. This list goes to 11.)

Since I’m kind of late to the game with this, I won’t tag anyone specifically, but if you are feeling so inclined to do a bit of a year in review . . . this was a good exercise in looking back--feel free to tag me if you decide to give it a go!