#two of my grandparents died on the same day last year like what kind of fucked up cosmic joke is that

[lapetitechatonne]

thinking a lot about the nature of loss lately. thinking about the different kinds of loss.

like when an era of your life ends. like graduation. it's a celebration, it's a good thing you get to move on, but everything you've known for the last 4 years, 12 years, will be different. you leave behind the safety of that place, and you're supposed to be happy about it. you're not supposed to mourn it. it was supposed to be temporary anyways.

and there's that slow pulling apart when you drift from your friends. it's quiet and painful, and sometimes you just don't notice until you find out your friend is engaged through instagram rather than a text.

sometimes it's seeing someone interact with your posts less and less frequently. and don't see them anymore. you look them up, and they're just gone. did they delete their blog? did they block you? you don't know, but you can feel their absence now. it's tangible in spaces you once shared.

sometimes it's just been so long since you talked, properly talked, you have no idea what to say. no idea if they want to hear from you, if the uncrossable divide slipped in between you while you both weren't paying attention or if they burnt the bridge on purpose. would you be welcome in their life anymore? how can you tell.

then there's mustering up the courage to ask, and being told you're both just too different now. it was fun while it lasted, but they've moved on. you are no longer relevant, despite the place they have permanently carved out in your heart with a love and kindness so rare.

the worst, for me, is when you actually loss someone. when they die and leave you behind with nothing but the memory of them. and it doesn't feel real. it feels so liminal. you know they're never coming back but it doesn't feel like that, because every other time they've left they've walked back through the door.

then there's losing yourself. who are you without these people and places and things to keep you going? you have so much love for them that it hurts, that you don't know what to do with it or where to put it, but you have it. it is heavy to hold. it weighs you down. you know you have to let go, but how do you let go of the love that makes you who you are?

[inkspiredwriting]

A Lifetime and even longer

Five Hargreeves x reader

A/N: I had the idea for this story because I thought of my grandparents. My grandparents knew each other as children and then became a couple when they were teenagers. When my grandma died, my grandpa died a week later. And somehow I thought it would be the same with Five and his wife.

Warnings: Angst, Death

In the golden hues of a fading afternoon, the garden was bathed in warm sunlight. The gentle breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers and the soft rustle of leaves, whispering through the old trees that had witnessed years of life, laughter, and memories. It was a peaceful, almost timeless setting—an oasis where Five and Y/n sat together, side by side, their hands entwined as they rested on a large lounger beneath the shade of a towering oak tree.

Five's once sharp, piercing green eyes had softened with age, his silver hair still cropped close, but with deep lines now etched into his face—a testament to the battles fought, the worlds saved, and the years that had passed. Y/n, beside him, looked as graceful and gentle as ever, her own hair now streaked with silver, her smile still as warm as the first day they met. Her hand rested lightly on Five’s chest, feeling the steady rise and fall as they both took in the tranquil scene before them.

Their world had grown quieter in recent years. All of Five’s siblings were gone now—save for Klaus, who could never truly leave this world. Klaus stood a little ways off, watching them, his eyes a mixture of sadness and acceptance. He had made peace with his eternal life, even if it meant being the last of his family left to witness their passing. He could always see them, his brothers and sister, as ghosts lingering in the edges of his vision, but today, it was Five and Y/n who held his attention.

“Klaus is here,” Y/n said softly, her voice like the wind, barely a whisper. “He’s watching over us.”

Five nodded, his grip on her hand tightening ever so slightly. “He always was the one to stay behind, wasn’t he?”

Y/n smiled gently. “Always the one with the most heart. He never lets us go.”

They sat there in comfortable silence for a long moment, the weight of their shared life resting between them. Their children had long since grown up and moved away to start families of their own. Maddie and Milo, the lights of their lives, had visited not too long ago, saying their goodbyes, knowing that this chapter was coming to a close. But right now, it was just the two of them—the way it had always been, ever since that day Five first realized he loved her.

“I’ve had a good life,” Five murmured, his voice soft but steady. “No regrets. Not with you by my side.”

Y/n leaned her head on his shoulder, her voice filled with quiet emotion. “I’ve never been so happy, Five. I didn’t think, after everything, that I’d get this. But you—” she squeezed his hand gently—“you gave me the life I never even knew I wanted.”

Five turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. His voice broke just a little when he spoke. “I never deserved you, but I’m glad you found me anyway.”

Y/n smiled, tears welling up in her eyes. “You deserved everything, Five. You’ve saved the world countless times. You saved me.”

They sat there in the garden, wrapped in love and the kind of peace that only comes from a lifetime spent together. The sky above them began to shift from golden to soft pinks and purples, the sun dipping lower on the horizon. Klaus, watching them from afar, shifted uneasily. He could feel it—the weight of what was coming. His heart ached, knowing that this was their last sunset together, and he wished, just for a moment, that he didn’t have to witness it. But then again, he knew it was his place to be here. To bear witness. To say goodbye.

Y/n turned to look at Five, her eyes filled with love that seemed to stretch back through the years. “Do you remember the first time we met?” she asked softly.

Five chuckled, his voice rasping with age. “How could I forget? You were a disaster.”

Y/n laughed, shaking her head. “And you were so grumpy. I didn’t think you’d ever like me.”

“I didn’t,” Five replied, though the corners of his lips twitched into a small smile. “But then you grew on me. I had no choice.”

“You had every choice,” Y/n whispered, her voice trembling with affection. “And I’m so glad you chose me.”

Five turned his head to look at her, his heart swelling with emotion he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in so long. “I’d choose you a thousand times over, in every timeline.”

They fell silent again, their breaths steady and synchronized, their hands still clasped tightly. The warmth of the day began to fade, but neither of them felt it. There was only the steady beat of their hearts, the memories of their life together, and the knowledge that they had loved fiercely, truly.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Y/n’s breathing began to slow. Five, his own heart faltering, squeezed her hand one last time. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“I love you too,” Y/n replied, her voice soft as a lullaby.

And then, together, they closed their eyes, their breaths growing shallow. Five’s arms wrapped protectively around his wife as the world grew still.

Klaus, standing at a respectful distance, felt the shift before he saw it. He sighed deeply, wiping at his eyes as he approached the lounger. His heart clenched in sorrow as he saw them lying there, side by side, holding each other in death just as they had in life.

With a sad smile, Klaus knelt beside them, murmuring softly. “Rest easy, brother. You earned this.”

As he stood, the air around him shimmered slightly, and suddenly, he wasn’t alone. He turned and saw them—his family. His brothers and sisters, all of them standing there, their ghostly forms bathed in soft light. Luther, Allison, Diego, Viktor, Ben… all of them were there, watching over Five and Y/n. And standing beside them now, were Five and Y/n too, their forms glowing gently in the dim light.

Klaus smiled, tears in his eyes, as he saw the look of peace on their faces. His family, whole again, even in death. "Well," he said with a sniff, "I guess we’re all together now."

Five and Y/n, their hands still clasped even as spirits, looked at Klaus with quiet smiles. And though Klaus knew the pain of eternal life would never leave him, in that moment, surrounded by the ones he loved, he didn’t feel so alone anymore.

[cleo-fox]

I created this Tumblr a year ago today.

I wasn’t really sure how my work would be received here. While I had Tumblr under my previous pen name, I didn’t use it to actually post fic—it just wasn’t as much of a thing in that community. So I had no idea what to expect when I posted Surrender.

I have been continually overwhelmed and humbled by this community’s support and enthusiasm for my work. Every follower, like, reblog, comment, and message has meant so much to me.

This last year has also been extraordinarily difficult on a personal level. My last two grandparents died nine months apart. We had to put one of our cats to sleep. I also experienced a major depressive episode that put me on medical leave for about four months and resulted in an incredibly toxic situation at work that ultimately culminated in me quitting my job. There were many days where I basically got out of bed and sat and cried on my couch. Those were the days where this site was a lifeline.

I know sometimes when shit hits the fan in online communities, people will tell each other stuff along the lines of “log off, it’s not that serious.” And there are elements of that that are kind of true: these are fictional guys. It’s important to keep a good perspective. But at the same time: you never know what the person on the other side of the screen is going through or why they need a little bit of an escape from their life. I’m just profoundly grateful that this was a positive place for me to be when I was struggling the most.

So, TL;DR: thanks for letting me stick around and share my silly stories.. I’m glad I’m here. I’m looking forward to another year of writing more of my silly stories and sharing them with you all.

(And special shout out to the sluts. You know who you are and I love you all.)

[ghostgorlsworld]

Johnny Boy (part 5)

werewolf!Johnny x reader

part one is here

Once upon a time, you would've done anything for John Mctavish. He had been your older brother's cool best friend, and you were always desperate for him to see you as more--until one fateful night that ends up with you pregnant and him...gone. Fast forward six years and you've made a good life for yourself with your daughter Emma, with Johnny none the wiser. Until he decides to knock on your door.

Johnny spent a fair amount of time with you and Emma for the next week, weaseling himself into your schedule with a kind of single-minded determination that must have gotten him far in the military.

By Friday, you were exhausted, irritated, overstimulated, and, disappointingly enough, horny. It turned out the lack of sex over the last year or two had turned your hormones into monsters that were very attracted to the nice smelling man that fixed your refrigerator and coaxed Emma to eat her greens. It didn’t seem to matter that it was Johnny of all people, or the fact that you still couldn’t look at him without anger sparking in your heart.

What was worse was that Johnny brought up finances on Thursday, mentioning something about helping with the bills. That had been like a shot of adrenaline, your blood pressure rising through the roof.. 

You had dropped the bowl you were washing into the sink, shattering it into a thousand pieces. “I don’t need your help, John,” you had snapped. “I haven’t for the last decade.”

Johnny left shortly after that, seeming to have traded in his old hot-headedness for the same soft, patient tone he uses with Emma. He had explained it well, saying he hadn’t had a house or a family to spend his savings on in the last six years, and he wanted to ease the load for both you and Emma’s sakes.

But it was the fact that he felt so comfortable to casually interject himself into your lives. What would happen if you became dependent on Johnny again and he died? Or decided that family life wasn’t for him?

Then both you and Emma would be crushed. You didn’t want your finances to be involved as well.

So you were angry with him, avoiding the polite texts he had sent and the phone call that you sent to voicemail. All you wanted was peace and a night out with Charlie, perhaps a bit of making out and/or hands-in-pants involved.

You hadn’t gone that far with Charlie yet. Both of you had been burned in the past and you were enjoying the slowness of it all. Today, however, you were ready to be properly touched by a man. It had been too long.

Emma was spending the day with her grandparents by their request–they had picked her up an hour ago, your Mum seeming to sense you needed a nice, peaceful morning. 

You did laundry. You cleaned the kitchen. You made yourself lunch and watched an entire episode of the Bachelor without interruption, then took a hot bath with rose petals and a vibrator.

It was lovely.

You were cheerful as you dressed and packed Emma’s overnight bag, planning on dropping it off at Tom’s place since your parents had her. 

You turned the page in Jack’s novel before you left, smiling up at the paper maché whale. 

It was a nice walk, the air brisk and the snow crisp under your boots. You went over the Emma list in your mind: snacks, her favorite books, her favorite stuffy, toothbrush, pj’s, a chilled and chopped steak in case Tom had forgotten to grab dinner, crayons, paper…

Before you knew it, you were popping the door open with your hip. You had already mentioned to Tom you were popping in so there shouldn’t be any unwelcome, undressed visitors.

Except there was.

A man in a black surgical mask stood in the dark of Tom’s hallway, huge, dark-eyed, and super fucking bloody intimidating.

 You dropped the bag with a screech, thinking of burglars, murderers,oh-my-god-is-Tommy-murdered-like-that-woman-in-that-documentary-you-saw-once-

“Shut up!” Tommy said, frowning at you from the couch. “Fuck, lovie, he’s a friend from work.”

The man in the mask raised a hand in an awkward wave.

“Oh,” you said, your heart pounding in your ears. “Oh, I’m so sorry. You’re a right scary chap and my brother usually keeps female company.” “You’re alright, love,” the masked man said, his voice like gravel. He picked up Emma’s backpack from the floor, offering it to you with a massive hand.

The mask was odd and the hoodie covering the rest of his face and hair was odder. But your brother had rather imaginative taste in friends and you had seen and met much worse.

“Thank you,” you said, smiling as your heart resumed its normal pace. “I’m his sister.”

The man hummed, as if amused. “I can tell.” He offered you a gloved palm. “M’name is Simon.”

You shook it firmly, giving him your name in return. “Sorry, if I had known if Tommy was having company I would’ve called before I came over.”

“He’s not company, he’s a guest,” Tommy said, rising to herd you into the kitchen. “He’s staying here for a bit with Johnny.” That certainly had your spine straightening. You hadn’t thought Johnny would still be here, after all there were a dozen relatives that would all love to host their long lost war hero.

“He’s out for an errand, lovie, don’t look so tense.” 

You relaxed a fraction, soothed by the thought that you won’t have to deal with Johnny in your hair before your date with Charlie.

“You’re a friend of John’s then?” You asked Simon, your tone just a mite cooler than it had been before. 

Simon nodded, his dark gaze tinged with humor. “Don’t hold it against me, love.”

It took you a second to see that he was a wolf too. It was all in the way he moved, the languid way he blinked at his surroundings. “Easier said than done,” you teased, forcing yourself into the good mood you were in before. “In that case, Tom, do I need to reschedule? Emma isn’t much for strangers.”

Tom shrugged, unzipping Em’s pack.“Johnny isn’t much of a stranger now, and Simon is a good lad, he won’t mind her.” Simon nodded again, sinking into the shadows as he took a seat at the kitchen table. “I’ve heard she’s a sweet girl.” “The best,” you said, smiling. 

“Jesus, lovie, did you pack enough?” Tom said dryly, pulling out the sliced steak. “I’ve never let the girl starve, not in the last six years.” “You’re a busy man, I was just making sure in case you forgot,” you said. “By the way, she likes a glass of milk before bed now. And her favorite book is the one on top, the one with the rabbits, plus King Robert is the sheep she sleeps with-” “Right. I’ve got this. I promise.” You felt Simon’s eyes on you, judging, appraising. You were sure Johnny probably didn’t have the nicest things to say about you–most likely that you were an irritating little girl that followed him around for twenty years then proceeded to get pregnant and raise the child without him knowing,

“And Johnny will be here, so he’ll be able to spend some time with her,” Tom said, putting the steak in the fridge. “If that’s alright with you.” “It sounds like it’s already been planned,” you said, trying your very best not to be hateful in front of guests.

Tom sighed. “If I were half as smart as you think I am with your theories of scheming and plotting, I’d be living in a much nicer neighborhood.”

You laughed. “No, you’d be in jail.”

“Touché. Simon, how do you feel about a classic steak and potatoes meal tonight? It’s Emma’s favorite, she’s our six year old codger.”

Simon made an agreeable noise, his nose now in some masculine-looking magazine with bears and car parts on the front. He was quite a large man, commanding such a presence.

Johnny was an unsuspecting kind of violent, always smiling and laughing until he wasn’t, until it was serious. Simon was different. He felt older. 

Oddly, you didn’t mind him around Emma. You’ve wanted to expose her around more adult wolves anyways, so she’ll learn her manners.

“You’re sure you’ll be alright?” You said, anxiety creeping in like it always did whenever you would be separated from Emma for longer than a few hours. 

“We’ll all keep an eye on her, pet,” Simon said. “Between the three of us, I think she’ll be safe.” You relaxed. “Right. Thank you, Simon.”

Tommy ushered you out of his house quickly after that, his phone blowing up with Johnny’s texts and calls. You saw his black truck pull up minutes later, but by then you were already through your door. 

Emma and your parents stopped by for lunch, your mother chattering about how she had seen Johnny at the grocery store and how much he had grown. It was like the last six years had been erased in their minds, the times when Emma was ill and you were at your wit’s end, the pregnancy you had spent constantly sick and deeply depressed–all of it was gone. 

Your mother was imagining a new life for her daughter, a life of being married to the man that gave you Emma and making a dozen more pups in a nicer house, with financial stability. She didn’t know the whole story with Johnny–hardly anyone did. She assumed the two of you had been dating when you had conceived Emma, and you had never thought to tell her differently.

Johnny had never actually wanted you. He was just drunk and about to truly leave the only home he had ever known. And you were right there, tipsy and desperate for his attention. You had missed him like a lost limb when he started ignoring your letters and calls, and seeing him again had brought up all those feelings again. 

But now, he was just setting a trap. He wanted to be in Emma’s life, and when her grandparents, uncle, and various other relatives were on his side…it made your life a lot harder.

Emma nuzzled into your side, sensing your turn in mood. “You smell sad,” she said, her mouth dusted with biscuit crumbs. “You always smell sad.”

Your mother heard her, and seemed to gain some perspective. “When I saw him, I was so angry. I just thought of all the things he had done to you…but then, when I came up to him, he was just so different. He’s a different man than he was all those years ago.”

And you were a different woman. It wasn’t revolutionary to change. 

Emma followed you into your bathroom and watched as you began to primp, perched up on your counter as you brushed your teeth and curled your hair, patting makeup over the purple half-moons under your eyes.

Emma was quiet mostly, sensing the strange mood you were in. She played with your red lipstick and powder, smudging them around her lips. “Careful, it might stain,” you said. “And what will Tom say if you’ve got red all over your face?” “Is Johnny going to be there?” Emma asked hopefully. “He’s fun.”

“Yes, he’s staying at Uncle Tom’s house.”

She nodded, smiling messily at herself in the mirror. “He smells just like me, Mum, and he looks like me too.”

“He’s your father, Em, of course he does.” You blinked hard in the mirror, trying not to cry. “But Mum…” Emma looked at you, her face suddenly serious. “If you don’t like Johnny, I don’t like him either.”

You actually did cry then, bringing your daughter to your chest like you did when she was a baby. You could still remember the day that you first held her in your arms, and all of the heartbreak had seemed worth it. “God, Em, it’s not like I don’t like him,” you said, burying your face in her strawberry-shampoo scented hair. “It’s just…we’re adults, and adults have tricky feelings. I could never dislike Johnny, he gave you to me.” “But you’re so sad when he’s here, we can smell it,” Emma said, sniffling. 

“I’m always sad, Em, I cried every morning I dropped you off at school for months.” That seemed to make her feel better. She snuffled, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. “Are you going to see the book man?” She asked.

You nodded. “We’re friends, we’re going to go have dinner, maybe see a movie.”

“Good,” she said, wiser than her years. “You never go out.”

She allowed you to wipe the makeup from her mouth without a fuss before your parents ushered her out the door, giving your cheek a slobbery kiss before waving goodbye.

The house was too quiet, so you turned on music, the old crooning stuff that Jack liked. Another half an hour and you were ready, wearing your second-nicest dress and your favorite red heels as you frantically dried your Chanel nail polish. 

Charlie was usually early, but time ticked on well past the time he was supposed to be there. He’s never been late, not in the two years you had known him, not even to work. 

You texted a few times, staring at the screen for a response. He lived in the city, so an accident was well possible–he wouldn’t just ditch you, would he?

Maybe he had forgotten. You did make the plans the week before…

Time ticked on. You gave him a call.

“Hello?” Charlie sounded distracted and irritated. You cleared your throat, “Hey, Charlie, I was just calling to see if we’re still on tonight?” Charlie made an apologetic noise. “Ah, shit, I forgot.”

“Oh,” you said, trying very hard not to sound hurt. 

“Our team had a last minute thing at the bar and I completely forgot about our date, sweetie, I’m so sorry.”

“That’s-that’s alright,” you said, kicking off your heels. 

“Would you like to join us? We’re at the corner bar where the boss had his divorce party.”

“No, no, that’s alright. I’m not really in the mood for a bar,” you said, undoing the clasps to your nice earrings. “Rain check, I suppose.” “I really am sorry,” Charlie said, sounding it. “I can’t believe I forgot.” “I can’t believe it either,” you said, then you hung up. 

You stared at the phone, feeling miserable and very, very sorry for yourself. Of course, the first date in ages and you get tossed up for a group of sweaty, gross men.

You showered, to scrub the makeup and product out of your hair. You might have cried a bit, but that was between you and the water faucet.

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

august 25, 2021 9:00 p.m. seoul

**TW: SUICIDE MENTION**

[grant] hey, not to bring up the previous conversation, but uh, i wanted to say i'm sorry you had to deal with me the same year you were going through so much. it wasn't fair.

[henry] it's okay, grant. i don't think your motivation for being an addict and attempting suicide that year was, "yeah, fuck henry, i want to make his life so much worse right now. his dad's dead, he may not have enough credits to get his degree this may, and now me!"

[grant] it doesn't matter what it was. the fact is that my problems hurt other people. i didn't just harm myself. and i was not a pleasant person that last year when you really needed pleasantry.

[henry] yeah, i'm not going to lie to you, that very last year of college, i thought the version of you i knew and loved was gone.

[grant] i was insufferable.

[henry] correct. you were an asshole.

[henry] for the most part. you did try to be good again and be there for me when my dad died.

[henry] it was weird. i hadn't seen you sober in years, but when i called you for the first time in a few weeks because there was no one else besides soobin i wanted to talk to about my dad dying, you showed up to my place kind of normal again.

[henry] i don't want to say "sober" because you probably weren't, but you were at least on fewer substances than i was used to at the time, so you seemed sober.

[henry] you weren't in a place to show up for people long-term because you were suffering, too, but you tried. you checked on me every day for a few weeks until finals hit and everything got crazy for everyone. well, no, until we threw that intervention for you right before finals. nonetheless, i appreciated the effort.

[henry] it stopped me from cutting you out, so there's that.

[henry] i'm not trying to sound rude either, please don't take it that way. it was just a lot. i would have regretted it if i cut you out, and i didn't want to at my core because i do not want to do life without you, but i didn't think you had it in you to get out of that spiral you were in for years. i really did not. i thought you were done for.

[henry] i'm sensitive, even if i never sound like it. i was mad at you for bad behavior, but i was also, um, really sad to see you like that. i love you. i've loved you as a brother and a best friend for almost my entire life. and i did not think i could stomach watching you die at your own hand. it made me sick.

[henry] and it probably makes me a bad friend to have felt that way. one, to have thought about cutting you out, and two, to have had so little faith left in you. you deserved more faith from me. if the roles were reversed, you'd never give up on me.

[grant] don't say that. everyone has their limit, and it's hard to know where it is until you finally hit it. i would have one, too.

[grant] and man, you were meant to feel that way. i meant it when i told you i pushed people away purposely.

[grant] whatever conscience and consciousness i had during that time always reminded me that i was terrified of hurting other people. i was very well aware i was probably causing, like, terrible amounts of pain to my friends and family, and i didn't want to do more damage when i killed myself, so...

[grant] yeah, i always meant to kill myself. i thought about it every day for years, honestly all the way back into high school, and i got super close to trying it about a billion times, but i only ever went through with any of my plans once.

[grant] and i'll regret for the rest of my life that you and my grandparents had to see what i did to myself on graduation night.

[grant] but anyway, i chose to have those awful behaviors because i felt like if i ran everybody off and made them leave, they'd be glad i was dead and wouldn't hate me for what i did and just forget me.

[grant] terrible, terrible strategy! like holy shit! i also entirely regret acting out like that, the much happier and stable version of myself from the last, like, eight years realizes that made everything worse and wouldn't have fixed anything anyway.

[grant] trying not to hurt people by hurting them upfront is a fucked up strategy. just entirely fucked up and counterintuitive.

[henry] no, it wouldn't have worked. you'd have left everyone traumatized by not being able to repair things with you.

[henry] so, whether you like it or not, people do like you. people tend to really, really like you. you have a very magnetic, charming personality that very few other people in the world share.

[henry] and people do want you around. i want you around.

[henry] i know what i just said, but i really do want you around.

[henry] but also, wow. i guess you did a great job at trying to run us off since it almost worked on me.

[grant] it was easier than acknowledging people care about me or worry about me. i'm not good at that.

[grant] oh, and in those rare early moments where i thought that i needed help, i was scared everyone would only ever see me as a fucked up shell of a human being. like if i got better, i would still be reduced to the guy with problems.

[grant] i'm glad that i regret trying to kill myself. there's a lot i would have missed out on, including the chance to be nice to myself. but i do worry that some of those things are true, that fucked up is the only way people see me, even strangers.

[grant] i feel like glass sometimes. like everyone looks through me and sees the worst in me and only the worst.

[henry] i'm sorry you feel that way.

[henry] it's a little ironic, though. the more you hold back from telling your loved ones these things or try to push us away so we never see you struggling with anything ever, the more we worry you have the same exact problems that almost killed you before.

[grant] i've really backed myself into a corner, eh?

[henry] there's about a million things i could respond to that with, but here's the most important one. you're worth worrying about.

[henry] you spend your life looking after people and telling everyone to care about others, like you just told me to worry about my future kids, but you seriously do not believe you deserve that in return, and i don't get it. no, i do, but i don't.

[henry] yes, your parents taught you that you don't deserve love, but then again...

[grant] i'm trying to believe. and i have gotten at least a little better. my birthday, you know? i handled that pretty well.

[henry] everyone has flaws. we could and should try harder to not emphasize yours so much. but i don't see those flaws first. and if i do think about them, it's because i don't want them to take you away.

[henry] you don't see my flaws first, do you? clearly, you don't. right? you don't act like you see them.

[henry] the person i see you as is the kid who became friends with me two decades ago. some random nice kid who approached the one new kid at the park sitting by himself and played with him even though they couldn't talk to each other yet. some random kid who learned the basics of my language on the internet to write me a sweet letter saying, "hi, i'm grant, i'm six years old, and i want to be your friend." it didn't even matter it was written poorly.

[henry] i see a lot of good things in you. remember, i was just telling everyone about how nice you were to help me save the first dinner i hosted for soobin. a day ago, you helped me get over failure, one of my lifelong biggest fears, for an hour or two.

[henry] but i think our beginning sums you up nicely. i don't know anyone else who would have gone to such lengths for some nobody new kid. you didn't owe me your time or your respect and yet you gave it to me. and that was a weird time in my life. everything turned upside down when i moved. to have a friend like you then was...

[henry] and of course, nothing's changed. you're still a kind person. you're funny. you're smart. you're just you. you're one of the only people on earth who isn't fake. the kid i remember isn't gone. i'm glad he survived. i'm glad i didn't lose him.

[grant] despite everything, it's still me?

[henry] yes. but so we're clear, you don't have to do nice things to be worthy of being liked. you're likable on your own. i'm only saying that your kindness stands out to me, and i know that you value that trait, so it bears mentioning. you've been very good to me. i can forgive the times when you weren't. i've been a jackass before, too. i've probably been a jackass to you.

[grant] i feel like we've said thanks a lot today but thanks for sticking with me. don't feel bad that you thought i couldn't get better. that was my fault. but you're still here. and you showed up on graduation night for me. i'm beyond sorry that you had to see any of that, like i cannot repent or apologize enough in my lifetime, but thank you.

[grant] i owe you my life.

[grant] i owe you a lot but that first.

[grant] i've said it before but it should be repeated, you know? i definitely would have died if you didn't come that night. aside from my uncle, you're the only one i know who can pick a lock.

[henry] just do not make me do it again. i would show up a second time, but it would be better on my psyche if that was unnecessary.

[grant] it won't happen again. i've been good for a long time, but i'm great now and most of all, appropriately medicated for bipolar disorder. it's all going to be okay.

[grant] we're going to go home, continue being best friends forever, you're going to be a great dad one day.

[henry] and you will get your job back!

[grant] great minds think alike! now, how much longer until the arcade? i promise i'll let you win a game of air hockey for once.

[redlighttokyo]

Cruel Summer

Chapter 1: So It Begins.

It was the morning you were leaving for Heelshire mansion to begin renovations. It was your dad’s dream to turn the mansion into a bed and breakfast. He said it’s seen enough tragedies for a lifetime, now it’s time for it to see community. Your dad told you that your grandparents would never allow it while alive. Your dad died when you were twelve. That was a brutal hit to you and your mum. Mainly because your dad was a handyman and the epitome of health, yet he dropped of a heart attack at thirty. Then your mum married Adam a couple years later.

This caused a sadness to settle in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t help but frown as you carried one your suitcases to your crappy little BMW. Hooked in your other arm was Brahms. Since you got the doll a couple days ago you haven’t paid any mind to the doll or the booklet of rules and regulations to follow when caring for Brahms. You were probably going to take it to an antique’s dealer at some point.

You put Brahms in the front seat and buckled him in. You didn’t want to send the doll flying if you slammed on the brakes. That’s at least a hundred pounds that you can put toward your next tattoo fund. Just as you closed the boot to your car a silver Audi pulled up behind you. You smiled when you realized it was your mum and stepdad. You stepped back around to the side of your car.

Your mum looked stunning in simple tie-dye summer dress and black flip-flops. Her bleached blonde hair was twisted up into a messy bun at the top of her head. Your mum always looked like a super model; she was a model at one point. That means growing up she was very much into healthy eating and exercising regularly. Just looking at you and your mum side by side, the regular person wouldn’t be able to tell you were mother daughter. You look more like your dad. You have his dark curly hair and his almost grey-blue eyes whereas your mum is a natural red head and has green eyes. You couldn’t get a tan to save your life, your mum looks like she’s mixed. You’re introverted but you become extraverted when you’re in your element which is usually by yourself while your mum was extraverted and couldn’t keep to herself to save her life. You were so unlike your mum. And sometimes that distance feels extra big.

“You alright, luv?” Your mum asked as she came up to you.

“Yeah, I was just putting my things in the car,” you replied with your hands on your hips.

“Do you have anymore upstairs?” Adam inquired with a smile.

“Of course. I always leave the heavy stuff for you,” you told him with an equally happy smile then tossed him the keys to lock up when he was done. Adam was the definition of golden retriever. He loves to be involved in your life. Which made the transition from mum’s boyfriend to stepdad all that much easier.

“I’ll go get the last of your stuff. You two…... –interact,” Adam said as he wandered up the path to your front door. You understood from his awkwardness your mum had some things to say to you that you’ll probably not like. But what else is new? Since your dad died you and your mum have had a rocky relationship.

You sighed and itched your brow.

“Listen, I know how you feel about them. I feel the same way. But this is a major opportunity for me. If this pans out, then I can quit my dead-end job. I can start living not just surviving paycheck to paycheck,” you argued before she could say anything.

“I don’t like it. That family is messed up, who knows what kinds of trouble you’ll get into because of them,” your mum posed a good point. The Heelshire side of your family are…...–different. Your great aunt was supposedly into the occult and witchcraft. There was a feud between her and your grandpa a long time ago that never got resolved.

“I know you don’t. I don’t either. But I want to do this, for dad,” you told her honestly. If it weren’t for your dad’s dream you’d put it up for sale. And maybe you will. Your memory of Heelshire mansion was a bit fuzzy.

“Jesus have mercy, Evelyn,” she muttered in defeat. Your mum sighed heavily and looked away, peering into the car. Her eyebrows rutted together.

“What’s that?” She questioned, pointing to something in your car. You instantly knew she was talking about Brahms. Your mum has a deep hatred for that doll. After the real Brahms died your grandparents doted on this doll instead of their remaining son. Your dad had to spend his late teens and early adult years living in the shadow of a doll.

“Is that Brahms?!” Your mum exclaimed looking at you like you had done something wrong. You held your hands out in front of you in defense as you tried to gather your words.

“Evelyn Elizabeth,” your mum warned coldly.

“Okay, okay! It is Brahms but I’m taking him to an antique’s dealer next week. He’s not staying,” you explained as though your life depended on it. With how angry your mum looked; it could very well be.

Your mum placed her hands on her lower back and scoffed, shaking her head.

“You’re not following those stupid rules, are you?” She asked, trying to figure out if she should just smash the doll into pieces now or allow you to prove to her that your grandparents hadn’t brainwashed you.

“I haven’t even looked at the terms and conditions book,” you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest. This earned a snort from your mum as she broke out in a fit of giggles. Little to your knowledge this is exactly how your mum reacted when your dad wanted to bring her home for a few days and he had to go over the rules.

“Okay, this is the last of it.” Your stepdad, Adam, declared as he came walking down the small path with your duffle bag of power tools and your last suitcase. You opened the car door so he could unload in your backseat next to the cat carrier with Bandit, your cat, inside. The door closed and Adam handed your keys back to you before bringing you into one of his ‘dad hugs’. They weren’t the same hugs you got from your dad; they were different. But over time Adam’s hugs became something of a comfort to you.

“If you run into any problems at all, call me and I will drive out to help sort it out,” Adam told you as you two broke away from each other. You smiled and gave him a sure nod, telling him you’d do just that. Something you’ve always loved about Adam is he’s willing to help with problems, not solve them but assist. It always gave you a chance to fix it and then to reach out for help if you needed it.

“I guess I should get going,” you murmured. Your mum pursed her lips then opened her arms for a hug. You obliged. Your mum’s arms tightened around you. You can’t remember the last time she hugged you like this. It brought both comfort and a hint of dread.

“Call me when you get there,” she said, pulling away from you. You forced a smile to reassure her as you opened the driver’s side door. Your very full lanyard jingled as you waved awkwardly. Your mum and Adam stood on the sidewalk waving at you. You wondered if this is what it would’ve been like if you decided to go to university like the rest of your peers. That thought left a sour taste in your mouth.

You gave your parents one final wave before hopping into your crappy BMW. You turned the key to bring the car to life before putting on your playlist to listen to on the drive. You never really grew out of your alt phase, at least now you have more refined tastes, so your playlist shows that. And just like that, you were on your way to Heelshire mansion.

[shadowredfeline]

Two in One Post

For my P-Pal's On This Day Post

It's really sad to remember after someone passed on. Jason's Grandmother and Spot's Grandparents. This does happen the same thing with me with my Grandmother and my Aunt. Because my Grandmother died in 2019 due to heart failure, and my Aunt died last year due to her being Sick. And I thought Natural Causes is kinda the same as being sick. She even let me have her cold before she passed on. The last time I even saw her was when she came to bring something to my mom. And that's the last time I ever saw my Aunt. It's just really sad that I missed both my Grandmother and my Aunt, because I do a lot of fun things with them. And the same as after I go to Church, I always hangout with my Uncle and my Aunt every Sunday. But with my Grandmother, we do love going shopping together, and that's what my Aunt loved doing as well. But since now my Uncle either has the house all to himself or he has a Roommate, things are a lot different for him since he is a very busy Uncle.

Shadow R 😺🗡️: mmhmm. And since my grandmother and my Aunt passed on, I'm sure Spot and I can spend some time together with our beloved family members passed on. And also, November 1st is All Saints Day, so I'm sure Spot and I can do something we can do together.

Mmhmm, and let's move on to my P-Pal's Inktober.

Looks really cool. I bet if Chowder made some kind of Devil Cake is like what Billy did with the Brownies by using Evil Powder to Rose the zombies from their grave. Except Grim did love the Brownies made of Evil Powder, but I like the episode, Brown Evil. But if Chowder and Panini are in a Zombie Apocalypse, Panini can be the one killing the Zombies, along with Gumball, Mandark and Mojo Jojo for Shadows of Evil from Black Ops 3.

And I love episodes where it involves Zombies since it is a good idea to make a cartoon out of. I like seeing it happen in Billy and Mandy, like it there and I also like it happened in SpongeBob. That's why those kinds of episodes are really good. I would imagine having Paul, Scottie and Bonn killing Zombies and having Luna Sapphire as a running zombie.

[alpharaposa]

The thing is? Everybody starts out poor when they leave home (unless they get a shitload of money from their parents, which is fewer people than you think).

The GI Generation did not go straight from school into neat little “pleasant valley” houses. They fought a freakin’ war first, then half of them went to college on the GI Bill, and THEN they finally settled down to start making Baby Boomers.

Baby Boomers? A bunch went to college, a bunch went to Vietnam, and a bunch bummed around getting high without really living anywhere until they finally settled down (or died off) and started getting real jobs.

Gen X? We got soooo many thinkpieces about hanging around living with our parents because we didn’t have the scratch to move out (which is historically normal, BTW- people lived with their parents and sometimes their grandparents). Those who did had the time-honored tradition of living with roommates for the first place or two, with all the awkward steps of living with people who may not have the same hygiene standards you do. Or may feel like vodka and sunny delight is a perfectly good breakfast and trash belongs on the floor.

So, Millennials weren’t setting any new trends by having trouble paying rent and getting a car (if they even wanted one) as young adults freshly on their own. And you up and coming kids, you’re going to have to figure out some strategies, too. Roommates, living with your parents, going into debt and learning about bankruptcy... those are all normal things for twenty-somethings.

For most of our country’s existence, the big worries were child poverty and elderly poverty. Guess what? We’ve just about licked those. Kids and their parents get a lot of help, and the lone grandma out there is usually richer than her kids. Even if not, she’s got the kinds of retirement funds previous generations could only dream of.

That leaves the last form of ‘poor’, which is the young adult with almost nothing to their name, setting out to make their way in the world for the first time. Most of them are going to struggle. Some take out student loans and get through college and THEN reality hits them, but unless you were a very strange student who had a part-time job and saved a lot of money, you don’t have much of anything when you turn 18/21/24.

It takes time to accumulate wealth, be it in ‘real’ form (houses and other property) or simple cash. It’s never been easy, and the rules change as society changes. The internet and global supply chains changed things in just the last generation. COVID screwed up so much, it’s unreal, and we’re still sorting that out. I’m sorry for those of you hitting the job market right as things hit the skids- that sucks. It’s happened to my mom every time she went job hunting so far (and she’s in her 60s- sometimes it just works out that way).

Is it hard sometimes? Boy howdy. Make some friends to hang out with on the cheap, be it drinking country time lemonade and vodka instead of going to the bars or picking up hobbies less expensive than playing the latest video games.

What you’re going through is what other people go through and HAVE gone through for years and years and years. It gets easier. You’re going to have pitfalls where you screw up. Maybe you’ll have to start over once or twice. God knows my husband and I did a couple of times. Things you never learned about in school will suddenly become important, like credit ratings. The good news is that information on how to fix this stuff isn’t too hard to find these days. The bad news is that you’re going to have to do a lot of stuff that’s new or uncomfortable until you learn the ins and outs.

You’ll manage. You’ll get better at it. There are some things you’ll let go and other things you’ll hold onto. Life isn’t about having it all, it’s about learning what really matters and what you can live without. It’s about the choices you make along the way. Make those choices in a way so you can look yourself in the mirror afterwards.

Don’t set yourself up for failure by assuming it’s supposed to be easy. We’d all like it to be easy, but nobody’s figured out the magic formula to actually make it work out that way. Believe me, people have tried.

Don’t pay for job placement- good places charge the companies they head-hunt for, not you.

Libraries have programs to help you write resumes and learn to budget.

Step outside and appreciate nature a little bit- it’s free of charge and it’ll keep you sane.

[shallow-between-stars]

When I grew up I spent a lot of time at my maternal grandparent's home in Victoria.

It was an old, brown two-storey that's since been demolished and subdivided because that is the way of things. After Pop died there wasn't much call for a house with that much space in a gentrifying suburb and it made more sense to knock the whole thing down than try and sell land with a two storey with a separate toilet, a garden, a detatched garage and another garden after that all on it.

Hey, something something property prices.

(Something something buying land in the 1950s and selling it in 2023.)

But next door to my grandfather lived a pair of 'brothers' and their 'live-in best friend.' By the time I came into this world only one of the three was still alive - Al. He was from Germany, I think his name was Alphonse? But to everyone he was just Al. His 'brother' was Hans, I don't know what their 'friend's' name was. I remember that Al's eyes used to go dark and distant if I ever asked him about Germany, and that I learnt to stop asking.

He used to say that he and his 'brother' and their 'friend' were Australian, in a German accent so thick I could only half-understand him, and as a child I did not understand the way I do now.

The thing is, up until the day Al died, he was one of my grandfather's best mates. Pop was around there nearly every day sharing the newspaper, sharing the spoils of the gardens, chatting and fixing electronics and generally just being great friends with this guy.

This had been going on for years. My mum tells stories of Al treating her and her siblings with the same love and kindness that he treated my brother and I with. He was a gorgeous, generous, dapper man with a thick accent and the ability to slip his neighbour's grandkids their bodyweight in chocolate when their parents weren't looking.

And apparently his 'brother' and their 'live-in best friend' were much the same.

Al never told Pop that his 'best friend' and his 'brother' were not his best friend and his brother. Mum clocked it, I have a feeling most of her generation did. I never did until a long time later, but Al was the last to leave us and even he left before I was old enough to realise that the photo on his dining room table that I flipped up once of the three of them with their heads pressed together and bliss on their faces meant what it meant. I never understood the kind way in which he took my hands away and pressed the photo back down.

I don't know if he kept it face down or if it was only down like that when people were visiting. I like to think that in his privacy he would flip the photo up, but I also understand as an adult that hearts sometimes do not heal from grief.

I don't know if Pop was letting him keep a polite fiction. I do know that Pop stopped talking to Cousin Louis when Cousin Louis brought his first 'close friend' home and Pop caught them kissing in the back garden. (He didn't disown Louis, with 27 of us grandkids running around, the only one of us who was left something was my brother and that was for the sole reason that my brother was the Favourite. Everything else was given to the eight children. So none of us grandkids were really in a place to be disowned.)

I do know when I was fifteen and reading terrible yaoi manga on the couch, Pop picked up the next volume I had next to me, flipped to an unfortunate page and told me, brandishing the picture of two anime men kissing, that he wouldn't allow this filth in his house.

I do know that every single family member (including Nanna) who knew that the three men living next door were not brothers and a friend never, ever mentioned that to Pop.

And I wonder sometimes how this story would have played out differently if Al had decided he wasn't going to keep the lie.

I do know that it would not have been kind.

We, in many ways, are moving slowly into a kinder world.

But we cannot forget that the world we come from didn't use to be the way it is now.

Every now and then some discourse pops up around a queer ship consisting of a pair of fictional characters who are not blood related, but refer to themselves as "brothers" or "sisters," or are in some way, according to the fandom, "sibling-coded."

Every time I see that discourse, all I can think about are the very real queer men I once knew, who, before their deaths, lived their lives posing as "stepbrothers." The only way to avoid suspicion for being two older unmarried men living together in a rural conservative area was to pretend they were from the same family, even though the truth was that they were lovers.

They were never out in life. Their relationship was a strict secret to nearly everyone. They never knew that I knew, and sometimes it fucks me up inside that they never got to come out to me. It fucks me up that they had to hide behind a fake "brotherly" relationship for their own safety. It fucks me up to look at a gravestone that reads "beloved brother" and know what it really means, and what it could have said if they'd lived under different circumstances.

In another world, they could have been husbands, but they never had the opportunity. The world will remember them as brothers, because, even in death, that is what was safest.

The freedom to declare queer love openly is something that not everyone has. And I think more people could stand to remember that.

[maggotsinyourbirthdaycake]

I'm borde as ever-loveing hell. This is the 2nd chapter of by book where my character Kriss finds out about his son. Feel free to ask questions and judge me. ⤵️

♤

♤

♤

My jaw is clenched and I'm grinding my teeth silently as my manager continues to chew me out over something that I either did wrong or was supposed to do but didn't. As he talks, I imagine for the 10th time since getting this job and walking out. I've only been working here for about 3 months, but Jesus Christ, this story being caught between an elementary school and a mall, kids from little kids coming in with moms and dads, to teens and young adults coming in alone or with friends. I've got no problem with kids or anything normally but when a little kid throws a tantrum or when big groups of teenagers come in all talking over each other trying to order all at one, I get overwhelmed. This job makes me want to pull my hair out some days. I thought working at an ice cream shop would be chill but apparently not. I'm about to open my mouth to say something back to him when my phone rings. Richard looks at me tight lipid and high-browed. Damn, we aren't supposed to have our phones on us at work.

"Sorry," I murmur as I pull the phone from my back pocket to decline the call. But when I see that it's an unknown number I'm a little curious, and take it as an opportunity to get out of this conversation.

“I'm sorry,just let me take this call please…” I mermer to Richard as I take a few steps away from him to answer it. I swipe up the green button. "Hello?”

“Hello. My name is August Halloway. I'm a social worker. I'm calling from St Medos children's hospital in Lakewood. Am I speaking with Kriss Mattison?" A womone with a kind voice speaks. A socle worker calling from a childrens hospital in the middle of the day when my brothers and my sisters in law are at work. I feel a pain of anxiety,my mind immediately going to my nieces and nephews, the whole gaggle of them. One of them must have gotten hurt,sick, something must have happened to one of them,my mind goes straight to worse case scenarios.Something is wrong. I have to take a deep breath to steady myself before I can answer. “Yes this is Kriss. I'm sorry, what is this about? Is something wrong?”

The woman speaks again, her voice is even and calm, “Excellent Kriss, i have some questions for you. I'm sorry this is such a personal question but I need you to answer honestly. Have you ever had a relationship with a woman named Rachel Roly during your last weeks of highschool or following your graduation? You two were in the same graduating class at King high corect?”

I blink hard, shifting my weight from foot to foot nervously. This conversation is leaving me more confused by the minute. Why does this woman wanna know about me and Rachel? “Um…yeah? I mean I knew her, we weren't close or anything. We had anatomy together in senior year, we were lab partners for a while. I'm sorry, what is going on here?”

“Kriss, I'm going to be blunt here. Did you and Rache ever have unprotected sex at any point in the later half of June 2011?”

The pieces start to come together very quickly after that.

Rachel, with her strawberry blond hair with hot pink streak, her bright green eyes, normily sharp and bright like she could stare straight into my soul but not then. Samuels house party the weekend after graduation. The booz. The couth.

Oh…shit. “Ye-yeah…we did, one time…you're not…what are you asking me, what are you telling me?”

“Kriss, listen to me very carefully. Rachel is descesd, She had a child, a 9 year old boy, with a february 10th birthday. The dates line up…”

I have to sit down, i realy gotta sit down. I sink down into one of the customer benches right there in the front of the shop.

“You're joking, what are you saying, I have a son, and Rachel is dead? What happened?”

“Take a deep breath, kriss.Right now all we can tell you is that Rachel has died. We've also spoken with his grandparents on Rsachels side, her mother recalled Rachel mentioning your name a few times during her pregnancy,saying she believed you were the father. Would you be willing to come to the children's hospital and submit to a DNA test? Its a simple buccal swab from the inside of your cheek, very non-invasive.”

My head is spinning with half formed thoughts,emotions preventing any one from settling completely in my mind, fear, shock, confusion all twisting together in my stumich, and through the haze I hear myself speak, surprised by my own voice.

“Y-yes mam. I'm at work right now but i'll come as soon as I can,i'll come right now. What's the address?”

August Halloway tells me the address which I frantically jab into the notes app on my phone, tells me shell be waiting for me in the hospital waiting room, and hangs. I look over at Richard who looks confused and concerned, eyebrows knit notherer.

“I was able to catch enough of that conversation. Go, don't even worry about it. Don't worry about opening tomorrow, I'll get someone to cover your shift.”

I could cry with gratitude. Hell, I could cry, period. I thank him profusely, gather my things from the staff room and practically run out the door of the ice cream shop, the bell above the door dinging as I open it. I jog over to my car and climb in, sitting there for a minute to calm myself, but instead of calming myself I lean my head against the wheel, take a long, deep breath, and let myself fall apart in loud, choking sobs.

[xtrablak674]

Death Certificates

I have become a reluctant collector of death certificates. I am trying to remember why this was even on my spirit this morning, maybe something that was said on the Ear Hustle podcast. Yes, it was one of the silly questions asked in one of their magazine segments, what kind of pizza would you be? My answer was a simple cheese pizza with a single topping pepperoni, and the reason was this was same order my mom made when she treated me and my siblings to pizza.

When I order pizza as an adult if I am ordering a topping it is usually pepperoni, I am not saying I haven't tried other toppings but my go-to is plain cheese with pepperoni. This then lead me to think I had mis-remembered her date of death because it made for a better story saying she died four days before my eleventh birthday. Something in my head was saying that was just a story and not the actual date of death. I searched my tablet and couldn't find a picture of her death certificate which was odd because my fathers and his mothers were right there.

This lead me to my safe to get out my copy of her death certificate which I scanned and photographed to fix the previous oversight. Her date of death was actually April 4th, 19XX, which is actually a week before my eleventh birthday once again even in my storytelling my bad math was at play. So I wasn't lying, she died right before my birthday. Happy Birthday. #🥳

Since I had her certificate out this was a good time to look at the comparisons between hers, my fathers and my grandmothers. Michael, who I guess was indeed real, is the one who reported our mom's death. It has been forty years since I had seen this "older brother" that I had been to doubt that he existed, but here he was right on this official document, so I guess I did/do have an older brother, how much older isn't clear to me and probably never will be.

My father's certificate was reported by his mother, I guess this was appropriate since his parents after prodding by his aunt were the ones to discover him dead in his Harlem apartment. Now I also had to verify another piece of information about his death, I have always told the story that my parents died at the same age nine years apart. Officially he died a month before his birthday which would indeed make him forty-three years old, the same age his youngest son would follow him in death. But I have a tendency to round up and he would have been forty-four if he had survived another month. I like the repetitive numbers, 84, 44, 40. And my favorite superhero team is the Fantastic Four so all these fours line up with mystic numerology.

Curiously since both of my parents died at forty-four I didn't feel great about getting past that number myself, its and odd feeling to be older than your parents ever were, but I am not the one who should have been worried, my late younger brother who basically smoked himself to-death followed his dad at the exact same age. I think my late brother was born in nineteen eighty, which means he was thirteen when he lost our father. But four when I lost my moms, another four. He died two year after our grandmother, I think our shared last grandparent.

Causes of death were quite different, my moms carcinoma of breast with metastasis, dads undetermined, but the family assumption is something related to his exposure to agent orange during the Vietnam war. Not sure if there is a thing as a good death, but my grandmother's cause is listed as hypertensive cardiovascular disease, probably related to the congestive heart failure she was diagnosed with, but it was old age. I am curious where do they get cause of death from? I don't recall ever using the term "hypertensive cardiovascular disease" as cause of death. I also don't remember giving out doctors information. I guess its all moot now.

Too bad I won't ever know what my death certificate says or who will be my informant. I feel a way having this much hands-on experience with death certificates, with my moms it was about being able to cash in the payable-upon-death bonds she had purchased for me. My father I think it was just information because he had no discernible estate and made no kind of preparations for his progeny, pretty typical to how he lived. My grandmothers was tied to an inheritance, a word frankly I wasn't really involved with until her death. It was curious that during her life she thought someone was studying her wealth, when frankly I know I wasn't, but as I even told her sister regardless of that, I was no fool and I wouldn't leave a penny on the table and I didn't.

I would love to say I am indifferent to death, having had so much during my lifetime. I can say definitively that when my time comes I will be ready to go, no kicking and screaming here. My preference would be to die like my moms or grandmother at home. But we know like in life our preferences aren't usually honored especially in the last preference we will ever have.

[Photo by Brown Estate]

[laptrance]

August 4th, 2024

4 years and 8 days, or 1469 days since my last post on here. Sounds like lifetimes ago, and might as well be. At least 3 to be exact. As expected for such a radical time jump, so much has changed. If I told 2020 me what would happen, I'd probably just laugh it all off in disbelief. But as Myra would sing in the iconic Princess Diaries closing track, miracles happen (when you believe).

Let's see... where to start... I guess where I left off?

REST OF 2020

i was VERY involved with DIY twitter, specifically bands around the LA area. a couple bands in particular i had kind of a parasocial relationship with: mini trees and soft blue shimmer. less so the latter.

pretty much 90% of my social life was online. tweeting and replying to tweets, discord groups. i was honestly having a blast.

i'd visit home every now and then, being somewhat covid conscious.

i took up DJing cause of keb. got a controller and everything. it was pretty fun but short-lived lol

we'd visit las vegas a lot more due to nanay's declining health, and just to support ninang. i think nanay would end up staying in vegas full time. no longer hopping back and forth between us and ninang.

i think dad got covid after christmas. i was honestly really scared for him but we all got vaccinated so he took it like a champ.

2021

i ended up making a couple of mixes for some friends. i thought they were fine haha

the visits to vegas would increase more and more. the last time nany would properly go out was for our birthday dinner at fogo de chao

i had a mad crush on one of the band members from soft blue shimmer. i went on a "date" with them but was politely turned down after they realised it was a date. it honestly felt good being turned down. like i put myself out there for once and wasn't a useless lesbian for once lmao.

i'd go IN on record collecting. racking up 100 vinyl easily by the end of the year.

i finally got a costco membership. that was a milestone of me "being an adult now"

a lot of people at planetary started leaving. first nik, then george. i was like "there's no way in hell im staying here too" so i started applying for jobs. i think i only applied to two things before landing in NINJA TUNE OF ALL PLACES. i still pinch myself after almost 3 years from that. it was like 4 rounds of interviews. started working there september 13th.

2022

Nanay died. I no longer have any grandparents. On both sides. It's the closest death I've experienced so far.

it didn't (still doesn't) feel real that she's gone. she lived a long life (90 years). i always envisioned one of us sisters having her take care of our children the same way she took care of us.

it was hard dealing with her passing. i'd always cry at the weirdest moment. like when we were having a reception at ping pang pong after her funeral, not AT the funeral lol. i still cry sometimes to this day. her death kinda marked a milestone of sorts where it was like "oh you're REALLY an adult now". no turning back to the security and safety of childhood. sometimes i mourn that more than her. but i also think that's what she was to me. safety. unconditional love.

i was still very much on DIY twitter. online life during the pandemic was still a thing i think.

we had to move out of the Fremont house cause the owners were selling the home. despite the weird roommates, i really liked that place. the location was really good.

Kristine ended up joining us at the new house in Rosemead. Had a room with sunlight finally but it was a lot smaller than the basement room lol.

Started taking up a bit of golfing with Dad. he'd take us to the driving range and have us practice out swings. that would pay off on our birthday at top golf lol

Kristine got a boyfriend named Justin. He was her type forsure. I got along with him as well. they dated for about a year and he moved up to norcal which strained the relationship. she broke up with him cause of that and other things.

Got to work on a few cool projects, but I had such a hard time getting press for them. felt like i hit a wall

went to a couple of cool one-off festivals: This Ain't No Picnic and Primavera Sound LA.

one of my coworkers Lauren came to visit LA. it was nice having someone in my department in the office for once.

i started taking up bowling a lot more too. the rosemead house was near a bowling alley in alhambra that had this crazy deal on tuesdays. $2 per game. insane!! i made a couple of friends who were frequent visitors for a minute, but then it rained a lot towards the end of the year which forced them to close for maintenance indefinitely. they permanently closed in 2024.

connie and ant broke up after i think 8 or 9 years together. i honestly thought they would end up marrying each other. me and kristine spoke to them separately shortly after they announced the breakup and before they both moved away. connie went to seattle while ant went to portland.

it hit our friend group really hard. connie and ant were the ones who always brought us together. i think ryan shota and i just ended up doing our own things after that. we don't really hang out as a trio anymore.

i mean i know why they broke up, but i really miss our group. i miss connie and i miss ant. i miss them when they were together. they were the couple i looked up to and wanted to reference my own relationships after.

2023

discovered the beauty that was california hot pot in downtown alhambra. they gave waayyyy too much food for sooo cheap. that shut down in 2024 for unknown reasons. RIP

also discovered the beauty of Momo Paradise. AYCE shabu shabu WITH tea/soda included AND ice cream at the end. still open as i'm typing this thank goth.

there was a mini tornado in the el monte area??? unheard of for the area.

started hanging out with alex's friends from college (with alex ofc). most of them work for LADWP loll.

i got a mechanical keyboard. im using it to type this very sentence lol

worked on some very stressful campaigns for work. also worked on some really cool campaigns that did well too.

i reached out to this one person from reddit who i thought was really cool. we went to see a deafheaven show and got dinner before. haven't really spoken to them since but would be down to go to another show again!!

i finally switched from an android back to an iphone. there are some things i miss from android but i like having a working and fast phone now.

I ALSO GOT COVID FOR THE FIRST TIME RIGHT AFTER CHRISTMAS. 0/10 RECOMMEND but it wasn't as bad as i thought it was going to be tbh.

2024

honestly the days start to feel like they're blurring. doing the same thing day after day

ninja's CEO was under scrutiny for being sexist and mean in the office (which is true) and some semblance of accountability was attempted but idk if anything changed about the work culture really.

i also applied to a different label PIAS and ende up getting the job but i felt so conflicted on wether to stay or leave. upper management at ninja honestly doesn't care about developing the press department (and i won't forget that) but my press team are day ones and were able to get me a raise that made me stay.

at the same time that ^^ was going on, kristine and i moved out of the rosemead place and moved to ECHO PARK with alex. i honestly still can't believe that i live in LOS ANGELES proper!!

i have another crush again, this time i met them IN PERSON at a show (for work). i didn't really do anything about it until A MONTH after, but i did end up getting her number. maddie did say she wasn't "totally" looking to date right now but encouraged me to reach out still cause she's a good friend and "who knows where it could go!" i don't think she's really a texter...

i started therapy again cause i'm feeling burned out at work and i feel like i've been very anxious as of late. had that confirmed with the therapist and i'm in the process of testing for ADHD.

i think it's helping a lot, navigating how my mind works around this crush with nina s and just working through how i think about things.

aaannnd that's it i think! like i said before, A LOT OF THINGS over the course of four years.

as for the stuff with angelica, i just think about her in the sense of our time together being the closest thing to a relationship i've ever gotten. i totally understand why we don't talk to each other anymore. i think im still trying to recover from that in a way, forgiving myself for how i acted towards her.

meeting people's really hard these days. i aboslutely hate dating apps and the people i am attracted to are usually not emotionally available. im kinda worried i'll still be single (and a virgin) by the time i turn 30. working on that not coming true lol...

i dont think it'll be another 4 years before i come back with an update. i am proud of myself though. look how far i've come haha

[afaimscorner]

When Anne Rice died two years ago, I was more than a little shaken to put it mildly. Not only because my favorite author just died and we would never get any more books by her, not only because I survived my teenage years and twenties because of her works and words, but also because in hindsight I saw the writing on the wall. My grandmother had also died the same year, only a few weeks before Lady Anne and that didn't help either. Thanks to the Pandemic I had not been able to see her very often in the last years before her death. She had been sick for a long time, and many times we got to hear that we should not come to visit because we wouldn't want to see her "like this". But in-between there were times, when she was fine, but we were in Lockdown, so there was time, that was robbed from us by the circumstances. So yes, that news flabbergasted me ,and my first thought was: "But what about Christopher? Poor Christopher." I knew mother and son had been very close, not only did they start writing novels together, but they also had their great Twitter-Back-and-Forth, which I always thought would have made a nice book of its own. My brother, who never had the connection to either of them that I had and who never read a single book from either of them said it too: "Poor Christopher, they were so close." Again, I think we saw the writing on the wall. I did see it, I feared it. It was irrational of course. The breast cancer had been mild and had been gone for years now. She was healthy. That didn't mean it was not a hit close to home, though, because it was - but there was so much going on in that year, the pandemic was still going strong, Lockdowns were happening again, I mourned, got depressed maybe, but with the end of winter I put my fear behind me. I always get slightly panicked in the dark time of the year, it's instinct maybe. I do not fear the dark, I fear things that might happen in the dark und what the Dark stands for.

Poor Christopher. My heart was always with him. He dealt somehow. I wish I knew how. Especially now.

Death is always sudden. Even if you see it coming, it is sudden. You expect the pain and the slow dying to go on forever. When me aunt died of ALS that is certainly what it was like. She went quickly in the end, but before the end there was a long time of decay. My cousins were distraught of course, but they had time to prepare at least, they knew it was coming to an end in a number of years/months, eventually weeks. When my grandfather died, it was sudden and not sudden. He spend some time in hospital, then went home to die. That was hard, especially for my Gran, but still, we all had time to consider the possibilty of him dying. My other grandfather though, he just died lying in the sun at Easter, waiting for us to come by, I think (there is a story behind that, I am not willing to go into now). That was a big shock. Still, you kind of fear and expect your grandparents to leave you. You certainly think they will be the ones to go first.

2023 was a hard year, and I kept thinking: "God, please, don't take my Gran now, not now, I could not take losing her now." But she is healthy, her father, my great grand-father, made it into his early hundreds. And the thing with fear is: You always fear the wrong things in the end.

But how could I have known?

When Death comes, she comes unexpected like I said. It was an actual rare good day. I was still in rush from Comic Con, which had its ups and downs, but where I actual won (I never win anything) a free cinema ticket, that actually worked. I got to see the movie version of book I love for free with free popcorn, and for a change I actually saw a good adaption again, which made me strangely happy considering what I was watching (it was "A Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes", in case you are wondering). Since I have quite a way to the next cinema and it's a long movie, I had chosen an afternoon screening. Around half past seven, when the credits rolled, I looked at my phone.

We had just spoken before I left for the cinema, she was watching "Voice of Germany" on Joyn and was waiting to get a call to go and pick up her car. It's a ten minute walk to the service station. My first thought was that someone had run her over. I stayed put, watched the end of the credits, got up and got to the toilet. Left the cinema. Then outside, I called my brother.

Then I had to get home somehow. It was simple: We can't have two family members in hospital at the same time, pull yourself together girl, you can lose it at home. You still have to find out what is actually going on.

It was like a nightmare. I haven't managed to wake up yet.

She spend three days in the ICU. The unfair part about it is: They had saved her, her heart was beating again, it actually looked good the first two days after the incident. Yes, sure, they were telling us, it could go either way, but no one was expecting her to die. Not after everything that went down to save her life. Also: How could she die? It was unthinkable. She had been alive and well just a few days ago, bad been joking and laughing and living. She fucking just got a new knee in summer. She was only 71 and had no prior history of heart related health problems.

When I stepped in the ICU on the third day and saw the dialysis machine, I knew. I did not want to believe it though. The Doctor did not know what to say. The staff knew though, they knew it was over and not everyone was good at hiding it.

I never signed up for having to call my 95 year old Gran in the evening to ask her if she wanted to see her dead daughters body before it was taken to the morgue on a Saturday Morning. She had hoped to be able to visit her on Saturday before it would end. But it was not to be, it ended sooner than anyone would have thought.

I have to shoulder it all now - have to the laundry, cook, clean maybe, organize everything around the funeral, help my father doing all the legal stuff, oh and, yes, take on Christmas, because she ordered all those gifts right before ... so, we owe it to her to not just cancel Christmas. I wrote a whole damn fucking Fanfiction about the fact that you should never just cancel Christmas, no matter what.

I haven't even had time to mourn. I have to be there for my Gran, my father, the rest of the family, the old friends, the neighboors, the aquantances ... I can't break down before the funeral, and ten days or actually nine days after is Christmas, so I can't break down afterwards either.

I don't know how to continue. I don't want to without her. I fear everyone is expecting me to be functioning like normal by January. When I don't even know if I can ever function normal again.

My brother is swimming in the River in Egypt and my father is ... I have no idea where in his head. I get panic-y when someone is out and not immeadtly reachable. It's like my worst irrational fear came true and now no fear I have (and believe me I have enough fears for the whole human race) is irrational anymore.

Poor Christopher, I thought two years ago in December, he must be so broken. Now I am the broken one, pretending to be whole because I have to. Because when I let my parts fall, they can never fit together again.

I am not sure I can write anymore (Fiction, the rest is fine, you are reading it right now). I haven't had time to try it yet, and I think not being able to write anymore might be the last straw for me. Maybe it would help me, maybe it would heal me, I don't know, but I am afraid to try and too tired all the time.

Winter has come. Literally. Shipping snow is helping even less then having to wash her clothes. The world might be ending around me, I am not even noticing.

The dogs might have started to understand that she is not coming back. That is the worst part. Seeing that wondering look in my dogs eyes. That and knowing that Christmas Eve will be the one month anniversary of her passing. How can that be? It can't be real, it was never supposed to be her. It can't be.

My mother can't just be ... gone.

[likehephaestionwhodied]

Jack in a bar in San Francisco in the 80s. He sees some guy, and it's like being punched in the gut.

"Riley?" the guy gives Jack a weird look.

"Excuse me?" and by now Jack has come to his senses, of course it's not Riley. Riley died twenty years ago.

"Sorry, you just look like someone I used to know, I'm Jack."Jack can't stop seeing his dead lover in front of him. This kid looks just like Riley, the last time Jack saw him.

"what did you call me?" the kid has an odd look on his face, Jack wonders about taking him home. Just for one night

"Riley, it's not important. But-"

"That's funny." the boy is smiling, "I had an uncle named Riley, never met him. He was killed in vietnam, Grandma says I look just like him, I'm William"

Jack almost throws up. He mumbles something about the man he knows moving to Chicago. And leaves, he's sitting on Callum and Marcus's doorstep, for hours before the two and a very worried Mikey come home. He won't say what's wrong.

The boy, William, goes home to visit his parents next week, the encounter all but forgotten. His parents drag him to his grand parents house. He plans on sneaking out, under the guise of taking a nap, it wouldn't be the first time.

He walks into what used to be his uncle Riley's room, the room hes always spend nights in at his grandparents house, and he's reminded of the man at the bar. The walls are bare and littered with holes that must have hung up posters, but the top of the dresser is cluttered. An issue of Life magazine from 1964, match books from bars, some in LA many in San Francisco, William recognizes many of the names, and heavy leather belt. there are pictures too, faded where they have been exposed to the sun.

one photo is framed, it's a photo William knows well. His uncle is grinning at the camera, a larger, older man has his arm around Riley. William always thought the man looked mean, angry. He's not so sure now. The man is in a leather jacket, his face turned mostly to Riley. Looking at it now, William can see the man is not angry, he's looking at Riley like he's something to eat.

William digs though the pictures, the man is there over and over again. But there are other men too and he starts to peice together a friend group. Despite their ages, none of the men seem to be married, no rings, no women at all. William isn't sure when he started crying.

"Sweetheart?" William jumps, dropping the Life magazine on the floor. It falls open to a two page spread about the life of homosexuals.

"Grandma I-"

"I never got around to cleaning out his dresser." She says, coming to stand by William, carefully she bends down to pick up the magazine and a match book falls out of the back. The Toolbox, San Francisco. The same name in the caption of the photo in the magazine. "And one day I realized the photos were- well, I knew Riley kept the negatives in the bottom drawer so I just-" She trails off and William doesn't know how to ask.

William doesn't know what to say, how to ask.

"you're so much like him, you look like him of course, but you're kind, sweet, you care about the world and want it to be better."

"Grandma he was-" William chokes on the word.

"Yes, it took me too long to come to terms with that, but you're right."

"I'm not-"

"young men don't up and move to San Francisco the first chance they get for nothing. you're 25 and I've never head about you so much as speaking to a young woman. Grandmother's know these things."

They're both crying, William realizes, and he's not sure why.

"This man," William picks up the framed picture "where is he?"

William watches his grand mother look at the photo, greif and guilt written on her face. "After your uncle died, we, Jack came around, wanted to come to the memorial service, had heard from friends about Riely but we, I'd had my suspicions and I didn't want- I wish I knew now, I wish I could make it right." William feels his stomach drop, his heart punding in his ears.

"Can I keep-" He holds of the photo of his uncle and Jack. Jack, who William is sure he ran into at the bar.

"yes." his grand mother whispers before clearing her throat. "I came to tell you we're going out to eat tonight, that you shouldn't sleep too long."

William nods, watching his grandmother walk out of the room.

"Grandma-" she stops, does not turn around. "My parents, do they know?"

"They do." she says, and William wants to ask her more questions. About his uncle, this man, his parents, but she's walking away.

The next time William visits his grandparents, there's a photo album on his uncles bed. it's full of photos, duplicates of the ones on the dresser, but so, so many more. At the back of the photo album are all the match books, and two letters from a Jack Marleau.

He takes the photo album to San Francisco with him, hoping maybe he'll run into Jack again.

[zepskies]

Never Say Goodbye - Part 1

Pairing: Dean W. x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

Word Count: 2,000 Warnings: Some angst

Part 1: Proximity

You’ve grown up watching your parents. At fourteen, you already understood how rare their relationship was—high school sweethearts, married for sixteen years, and certified soulmates.

Apparently it was even more rare to find your soulmate so early in life, but as Mom said, Sometimes the universe helps you out.

But you just started high school, and after surveying the pool of guys you have to work with, you really hope that “universe” stuff is just wishful thinking.

Because just this morning, Danny Schmitt got his hand stuck in the automatic stapler during Math class. Meanwhile, his friends were collecting bets on how many stitches he was going to need once they finally pried his fingers out.

Dad would call those guys dumbasses. You were inclined to agree.

You looked away from the scene (there was a lot of blood, and now your teacher was trying to free Danny with the only tool in the utility closet: a large hammer). But you couldn’t focus on your busy work like your teacher instructed either.

Sometimes, you still found it hard to believe your parents had met in high school. They had such an easy way between them, and not just because they could hear one another’s thoughts.

Mom was a kindergarten teacher, patient, kind, and encouraging. She came from a family of professors and school administrators, who frankly thought she could’ve done more with her life than “wipe five year olds’ noses.” Last Thanksgiving, she smiled and told Great Aunt Janet, “At least my five year olds can wipe their own asses.”

Smirking, Dad had followed up with, “How’s the incontinence, Jan? Ain’t lettin’ up at all?”     

Dad was a cop, though he wasn’t as strict as he could've been. Or as dumb as cops seemed to be in the movies.

No, your dad could be stern, but he was always fair, even if you…didn’t really hang out with him much. Mom was basically your best friend, while Dad was often too busy to know what was going on in your life.

Really, you just couldn’t see what your parents had in common, other than the dusty, midwestern town where they’d grown up. (Speaking of which, you shivered and zipped your coat higher up on your neck. Even indoors, winter in South Dakota was nothing to sneeze at.)

But your parents would share a look sometimes. Your mom would smile, and your dad’s mouth would quirk up at the corner, his eyes softening in a way they only did for her. And then you’d remember that they had their own world that you couldn’t really understand just yet.

“All right,” your teacher said. He wiped sweat from his brow while Danny’s friends carried him off to the nurse’s office. The stapler was in pieces on the floor, but poor Danny still had two huge staples in his index and ring fingers. “I think we’re done for the day. Just finish workbook pages for chapter three and we’ll cover it tomorrow.”

Yes! Math was not your strongest subject, but even you could finish four more square root problems. The teacher’s desk phone rang while you gathered your backpack and books. You were about to leave the classroom when your teacher called you back. You didn’t like the somber look on his face.

“You need to get to the principal’s office,” he said. “Your dad is there waiting for you.”

You didn’t know it then, but today was the day your childhood died—after Dad sat you down and told you what happened to your mom.

Winter in South Dakota was harsh. It could even be dangerous, especially on icy roads shared with grocery truck haulers.

They buried Mom in the same cemetery as your grandparents and your aunt (not Janet, by the way. You didn’t really remember your Aunt Karen, but your dad always avoided talking about his sister). The cemetery was small, but you guessed that made sense for a smallish town like Sioux Falls.

You stayed there until everyone else who loved your mom was gone, and it was just you and your dad left.

You didn’t bother to wipe your tears—not until your dad set a hand on your shoulder. You tried to wipe them away quickly, even though you didn’t really know why you didn’t want him to see you crying. He just gave you this look. In his eyes, you could see every fathom of his heartbreak. In a way, it told you everything you needed to know about your dad.

So you leaned into his side, and he held you close while the icy winds whipped at both of you.

Snow crunched beneath someone’s feet, and you turned to see a man walking down the row of headstones. He looked kind of familiar…

He had a thick beard and wore a baseball cap, but he took it off once he got close enough to pay his respects—first to Mom…then to Aunt Karen.

“Jack,” he greeted with a nod of respect.

You looked up at your dad, and the free emotions he’d been wearing clammed up behind a more familiar stern expression.

“Bobby,” he said, nodding back. Realization finally dawned on you. Oh, Uncle Bobby?

You hadn’t seen your uncle since you were…ten? Probably since Aunt Karen’s funeral.

“I’m real sorry about Christine,” Uncle Bobby said. He sounded a bit gruff, but his eyes were kind when they met yours sympathetically. “About your mom.”

Another tear fell down your cheek, but you nodded and wiped it away, sniffling.

“Thank you,” your dad said eventually. There was a brief, but awkward pause. Then Bobby nodded to himself and walked away, setting that faded blue baseball cap back on his head. You watched him go curiously.

“You remember your uncle,” Dad said. He didn’t seem happy about it.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Why didn’t he stay?”

He was family, after all.

Dad shook his head. There was a wry downturn to his lips. “He’s got a junk heap to look after.”

You frowned in confusion. But he didn’t explain what he meant. He just steered you back toward the car to go home.

Just as you both crossed under the iron arch to leave the cemetery, Dad reached into his pocket and gave you something. Your mom’s wedding ring.

“You can wear it if you want,” he said. “Or just keep it safe. Either way, just remember…she’s still with you. And I’m always gonna watch over you.”

The thought made you feel the slightest bit better, and also worse. Still, you took the ring and held it between your fingers. It was simple sterling silver, but beautiful all the same.

You got into his pick-up truck and he started the drive home. Just as you turned the corner, you hit a red light. You stared out the window as snow started a light fall, flurrying down to the damp pavement. Soon the ground would be icy and wet, and that reminded you of grocery trucks. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you were sick of it. Sick of crying.

It actually annoyed you…or…did it?

A feeling fluttered in your chest. It felt like anxiety and irritation all wrapped up into one. And another feeling, this time attached to a thought. It felt hot in your throat, and a lot like—

It’s not fair!

The thought startled you. Because somehow (and you didn’t know why), it didn’t feel like you were the one that thought it.   

Finally, the street light turned green. It flashed in the corner of your eyes, and then you noticed a sleek, black car coming in the opposite direction. You watched it pass by for a moment, until your dad distracted you with a question.

“Are you hungry?” he asked. You blinked, trying to register what he said while you shook off the weird things you were feeling. Once your brain caught up to your mouth, you were finally able to answer.

“Not really.”

“Come on. I’ll get us a burger.”

You shrugged, but for once you really weren’t hungry.

“Dad, come on,” Dean said in frustration. On one hand, he didn’t want to argue with his dad.

On the other hand, this really wasn’t fair!

He was seventeen already. He’d gone on a handful of hunts with John before, so why not this one?

“Too dangerous,” John said. He looked over at Dean from the Impala’s driver’s seat. His tone boded no further argument. “Djinn are tricky. Even seasoned hunters have trouble with ‘em.”

Dean frowned. “I’m ready, Dad.”

“Do we have to go to Bobby’s house?” Sam piped up from the back seat. At thirteen, he was getting more and more lippy.

“Cheaper than a motel.” John smiled, then glanced at his younger son through the rear-view mirror. “Besides, why not Bobby’s?”

Sam sighed. “His heater doesn’t always work.”  

“Well, I’ll help him take a look before I go,” John replied. Dean stared at the side of his dad’s face for a while, but he knew a lost argument when he saw one.

…Still, he couldn’t help but try.

“Dad,” Dean pressed.

John’s gaze stayed on the road. “Not this time, son. You and Sam’ll be okay at Bobby’s.”

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Yeah, bored at Bobby’s. But he knew it was better than being left at a crusty motel room. He was annoyed, but he could deal with it.

Until something else began to creep up in his chest. Something he hadn’t felt since…since his mom died.

It was this ball of lead in his chest, weighing him down and constricting his throat. It felt a lot like…like fear, and sadness. And finally confusion. He was confused?

Maybe.

Sad? Afraid? Not really, no. At least, he didn’t think so. He hadn’t thought about his mom like that in a while…

So what the hell?

Those sensations only lasted for a moment—the time it took them to finally cross the street at the red light and pass a pick-up truck going the opposite way.

But that moment seemed to drag on for minutes. Now he really was confused.

He sat still, hesitating, until the feeling eventually passed.

“Hey, Dean, where’s the Batman comic?” Sam leaned up by his ear to ask.

Dean almost flinched. He played it off though, and turned to look back at his brother.

“It’s in my bag, but wait ‘til we get to Bobby’s.”

“Why? That’s like, a whole ten minutes away,” Sam pointed out.

“Because my bag’s under a ton of stuff back there. Just leave it for a few minutes,” Dean said. He sensed that Sam was about to get all bitchy and not let it go, but then John cut in.

“He’s right, Sam. Just cool it until we get there.”

Sam frowned, slumping into his seat with an annoyed huff. Wanting to tease him out of his kid funk, Dean smirked, reached back and playfully tapped his knee. “Yeah, cool it.”

Sam slapped his hand away. “Stop.”

“Make me, dork.” Accompanied by another teasing flick to his ear. Sam hit him back, and it would’ve devolved into an immature, but not uncommon free-for-all, if not for John’s heavy sigh and a sharp warning.

“Boys, enough!”

Then the car was silent. Sam huffed again and settled back into his seat. Dean tapered down his smile and sat back in his too. He looked out the window and saw the snow beginning to fall. Without meaning to, his mind drifted back to that weird feeling in his chest.

He rubbed his chest absently. But soon enough, he forgot about it. Just like you did.

Neither of you realized exactly what happened that day.

It was the first tug of a lifelong bond, seared into your souls.

AN: Okay, this is my first soulmate AU! Maybe the end was a little melodramatic there lol.

Let me know in the comments what you think! Then keep reading. ;)

Here it is: Part 2.

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[baby-girl-e]

Christmas Tree Farm

Characters - Iceman x Maverick, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Summary -  Maverick and Ice have their first Christmas with Bradley after Carole’s death. Just a couple of new dads doing their best to raise a happy kid. 

Word Count - 3.5k

Warnings - Canon- Character deaths; Mentions of period-typical homophobia

A/N - Sorry for the wait on this one, I started it a while ago and then life happened you know? I hope this one is happy and Christmas-y enough for you, I added a sprinkling of fluffy angst because I can’t help myself! This is also my first Kazansky-Mitchell-Bradshaw family fic so let me know what you think!

Without further ado... Christmas Tree Farm based on the song by Taylor Swift

It was the first Christmas that Maverick had Bradley since Carole died. He would’ve taken the kid to his grandparents house but for all that he tried he just couldn’t get in touch with the Bradshaws. Carole’s parents had been dead for longer than he’d known her, but he always knew that Nick’s parents were around and had spoken to them many times before he had died. The number he had for them, that he wrote down at her funeral, was right but he got their machine every time. With no call back he just had to assume they were out of town. He didn’t dare to think it was because they were ignoring him, how could they possibly not want to be with the coolest kid in the universe on Christmas?

So here Maverick was, standing in the middle of Target staring at the coats looking clueless. Bradley had outgrown his last one and Ice had insisted he needed a new one before they went to the Christmas tree farm the next day. He reminded his boyfriend that they still lived in San Diego and it didn’t get far below 50 degrees fahrenheit, especially not in the middle of the day. Ice had lovingly reminded him that not everyone was raised in the midwest and that this kid went from living in Texas to living in California and wasn’t used to the cold. 

“Need some help?” A kind looking lady pushing a shopping cart with what looked to be a kid Bradley’s age next to it, noticed his confused gaze. 

“Oh, um I’m fine I just have no idea what I’m doing here.” He thought he may as well be honest with the stranger.

“How old is the kid? I’ve had a few myself.” 

“He’s uh six.” Wow, time flew. It felt like just yesterday Nick had handed him a tiny bundle that just blinked up at him, unknowingly looking at his future pseudo father. 

“Well then he’s probably the same size as Matty here. What size did you last get him?” He internally winced at that. He didn’t check the size on the one that didn’t fit and he wasn’t the one that bought it for him, Carole was. 

“I don’t know, this is my first year as his dad.” She gave him a weird look and he decided to add more to make himself not sound like a dead-beat. “His parents and I were best friends, his dad died two years ago and his mom this summer. So now he’s mine.” 

She gave him a sad look and boy was he sick of those. It wasn’t her fault, what else was she supposed to do when told that story? It’s the polite thing to do. 

“Oh I’m so sorry. Do you at least have your wife around to help?” He almost laughed. No, but he had an Ice. A boyfriend that stuck by his side through thick and thin and god was he so damn lucky. He didn’t have a wife, but he was better so Maverick found himself agreeing. 

“Yeah I do. She’s usually better at this stuff but she’s working late.” He really had to keep the laughter at bay by referring to Ice as his wife. He couldn’t wait to tell Tom about this later. 

“Well not to worry I can help. Does he look about the same size as Matty?” 

“Yeah I think so. I would’ve brought him but he was just having so much fun at his friends house.” It was actually the Metcalfs but how was he supposed to say he didn’t want to stop listening to Viper explain the mechanics of an F-6? Weird kid. 

“Oh I understand, I won’t shop with the kids if I can help it. He’s usually a size 5-6, a little tip is that they’re sized with the same number as the ages so if they’re average sized then you should be safe. For coats however I always go a size up so that it at least lasts for two seasons. Shoes are kinda similar, but you don’t want to go too big or he’ll trip.” 

Really he should’ve been writing this down, but he’s a pilot for god sake he can remember stuff.

“Oh thank you. I’ll have to remember this for when we need to get him new shoes. I don’t think he will for a while.” 

“Of course, we parents have to stick together. Maybe bring your wife next time so it’s less painless!” He’s one hundred percent sure his ‘wife’ would have wanted to be here today but the Navy didn’t give time off for clothes shopping for the kid you and your secret boyfriend share. Maverick was only here because he wasn’t yet trusted to do the paperwork side of TOP GUN. 

“She’ll be here next time I’m sure. I’m not usually allowed to even do the grocery shopping let alone this. I don’t know why she puts up with me.” He laughed as he said it but it was true. He didn’t feel like he deserved him at times. 

“I’m sure love has something to do with it. Good luck!” And with that the nice stranger left him in the coat aisle gaping. 

Eventually he picks what he thinks might work, a hat and gloves that match, and heads back to their little house. When he gets home he calls Ice to check in and also to see if he’ll pick Bradley up from the Metcalf’s. 

“Kazansky speaking.” Maverick had to stop himself from giggling at his deep voice, it never failed to make him swoon. 

“Hey babe, how’s work?” Pete could hear a sigh of relief over the phone, probably because he’d been expecting it to be a work call.

“It’s killing me baby. Just a few more minutes and I’ll be home free.” The way Tom had drawled through baby was making him sweat. 

“I’ll have dinner ready when you get home if you want to swing by the Metcalfs on your way and grab baby goose?” Viper and his wife had long since found out about their relationship, Pete accidentally using babe in the workplace, but they never bat an eye. After Pete’s inevitable breakdown his fathers former best friend reassured the couple that their secret is safe with him and if they’re comfortable they could come to Sunday dinners with his wife and really be a real couple. Small mercies. 

“Why in god's name is he at the Metcalfs without you?” 

“Because I had to grab something from Carrie after work and Bradley wanted to come. Mike was telling him about some F-6 and it was like pulling teeth getting him to leave. They offered to keep him until you got off so I said yes. I’m telling you Tom our son is so weird.” 

Our son slipped out of his mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world. Maybe it was, Pete quite liked the little family he had made for himself. 

“Well that’s because he’s been spending too much time with you. I say we switch places and see which dad he takes after.” It seemed Tom thought it was natural too. Pete didn’t want to erase the kids memory of his real dad, but he also didn’t want him to grow up without one like he did. 

“You’d love that wouldn’t you? Just go get him and get your ass home so I can finally kiss you. I’ve been dying to since you thought it’d be fun to chew on that stupid pen.” The worst part about working with your secret boyfriend was for sure the whole keeping your hands to yourself part. 

“That got you going huh? Maybe I’ll keep it up.” He could practically hear the smirk. Oh god. 

“Not unless you want to be slapped with a DD. Good god I’m hanging up, Love you.” 

“Love you too.” Tom was laughing through his words but then the line went dead. Pete couldn’t help but laugh too. God he loved that man. 

///

About an hour later Pete could hear both keys jingling in the lock and a small six year old voice chattering on about some plane. He was still in the kitchen when the door opened and heard Tom remind Bradley to take off his wet shoes before he came flying in to say hi to him. 

“Pete! Hi!” The little boy was jumping up and down practically begging to be held. 

“Baby goose I just saw you a few hours ago, you can’t have possibly missed me already!” He was hugging Bradley tight as Tom came in and pressed a small peck to Pete’s lips. 

“I don’t care I missed you!” He was wiggling to get down already and Pete obliged. He called out to the boy to go wash up so they could eat and he heard something that sounded like “okay'' before he disappeared to his room. 

Pete shook his head at Tom before striding over to where he was drying his hands. He immediately took his face in his hands and kissed him. Resisting Pete was futile and Tom kissed him back with an urgency he was still getting used to. 

They made a point to not kiss in front of the kid, no more than a small peck, but with him distracted they took advantage of the moment. As they pulled back they mumbled greetings before Pete retreated back to putting dinner onto three plates. 

“Glad you’re home Tom. I missed you.” Tom blushed and set two out of the three plates on the table. 

“And you gave Bradley a hard time for missing you? You’re impossible Pete.” 

He just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Can’t help it.” 

Once they get Bradley downstairs and eating Pete starts to notice Bradley seemed like something’s on his mind. Just picking at his food and being abnormally quiet. Tom picks up on it too because he gives Pete a look before addressing the kid. 

“Everything okay baby goose?” They were already worried about raising him, so anytime something went wrong they were both panicked. 

“Yeah, can I tell you guys something?” He looked up to them with wary eyes and Pete felt his insides freeze. 

“Anything Bradley you know that.” Tom reassured him.

“Well, this morning in class my friends were talking about their dad’s and I don’t know, I just wish I could talk about mine.” They looked at the kid concerned, they knew they’d have to talk about this eventually but Pete wanted to avoid it as much as possible. 

“Well you know you have a dad, he’s just not here.” The kid looks sad still and Pete looks to Tom for some assistance. Tom’s at just as much of a loss.

“I know, but I don’t know how to tell the other kids that. Would it be okay… Maybe…” He didn’t seem to be able to get out the words. Tom stepped in. 

“It’s okay kiddo, take your time.” Neither had been prepared for parenthood, least of all Tom. He had resigned himself to a life without kid’s a long time ago. 

“Do you think it’d be okay if I called you guys dad?” 

Tom looked to Pete, like he did in most situations, and Pete looked pale. He never wanted to replace Nick, but Bradley really did deserve to have a dad. 

“Oh baby goose, of course that’s okay. But you remember what we talked about with Tom right? That people can’t know we love each other like your parents did.” Bradley nods enthusiastically.

“I remember. But I can still call you dad?” Bradley looked so hopeful but not quite so sure of himself. Like he didn’t know that these men would give him their kidney if he asked. 

“Absolutely Bradley. Just as long as you don’t tell people you have two dads, at least for now that’s okay. Tom?” Pete wanted to be sure that he was also okay with it, it’s not like Tom had planned on kids so early into a relationship. 

“It’s okay with me buddy. I’m honored that you see me that way. Now go clean up and we’ll watch a Christmas movie?” 

He nods again and runs up the stairs leaving his dad’s flabbergasted but deliriously happy in the kitchen. They were a real little family and damnit if they weren’t both over the moon about it. 

///

The next day comes quickly, especially when they’re woken up by a little boy jumping on their bed. 

“Dad! Dad! We’re getting a Christmas tree today right?” It seemed Bradley wanted to start calling them dad asap. It might get confusing really fast if he doesn’t find another term to call one of them. 

“We are buddy, but we have to be patient and get decorations for it first. Your dad and I only have a few things.” He tried on the name himself and Pete was rewarded with a glowing Tom even this early in the morning. 

“Okay, I’ll go get ready then. But you need to hurry, not wasting time kissing. Yuck.” He makes a face and collapses into giggles when Tom does exactly what Bradley had requested they not do. 

It takes them record time getting Bradley out the door that day, normally having to stop for about a million things but it seems like the kid moved like lightning when he had something to look forward to. He did look cute all bundled up in his new coat, even if he’d have to take it off the minute he got into the car and into his carseat. 

They went straight to Walmart to find ornaments and lights and were delighted to walk right into them when they walked in the door. Bradley picked out a set of shiny red ones and even found an F-14 one. Perks of living right near a Navy base. 

“Dad! Look, it's the one you fly right?” He had made the mistake of grabbing an F-15 Eagle before and received a long lesson on who had better planes, the Navy or the Air Force. 

“That’s right Bradley, put it in the cart.” He did so and scampered off. Pete leaned in close to Tom to whisper to him after. 

“I hope he finds another name for one of us. We can’t both be dad, I’m already confused as to who the hell he was just talking to.” Tom laughs and nudges Pete along the aisle. 

“I’m sure he will. I wouldn’t mind being called Pops. I’m sure you two can find a joke in there somewhere.” He smiled and winked at Pete before turning towards the ornaments, not missing Pete’s lit up face. 

“I love this so much more already. Ice-Pops. That’s amazing.” Tom was laughing too but slowed when he stumbled upon a first christmas ornament. It was pretty generic looking, a tree with a banner below that stated “Our First Family Christmas 1988”.

“What about this one Pete? I know it’s not our first Christmas but it is as a family.” Pete takes it from his boyfriend to examine it. 

“It’s perfect Tom. I love it. Should we get one to commemorate our first christmas?” He turned to find another generic one and saw the perfect one. A red heart decorated with snow and candy canes, a similar banner but this one stated “Our First Christmas”. 

“I could write 1986 on the back? What do you think? Too obvious?” Tom examined it much like Pete had before placing it in the cart. 

“Anyone who doesn’t know about us will not be invited into the house during Christmas time I assure you.” Tom sounded so sure of himself that Pete left it there. They rarely had guests anyways. 

Eventually they get Bradley to decide on a star and the rest of the trimmings before Tom tells Pete to go out to the car with Bradley while he purchases the items. They wanted to get to the Christmas tree farm within a reasonable timeframe to maybe try and beat the crowds. They both so desperately wanted this to seem as normal as possible and with lots of people around they’d have to go back to pretending to just be wingmen and not lovers. 

As Tom pulled into the lot Bradley was screeching his excitement. “Dad!! Look there it is!!” 

“Which dad are you talking to kiddo?” They just needed some clarification already. 

“Both of you now, but I think I’m going to call Ice pops. You know, like the Ice cream?” He was giggling and Tom had a smug look on his face. It seems like great minds think alike. 

“I love it, baby goose. Let’s go choose our tree shall we?” Bradley was back to screeching and Pete couldn’t unbuckle him fast enough. 

The kid ran into the farm with his dad’s in tow, Tom by the hand, and ran right to the tallest one he could find. 

“This one Pops! This one.” He was jumping now, pointing as he went. 

“Kiddo that won’t fit in our living room, let’s look for a shorter one, yeah?” He re;ented fairly easily for his age and was quickly bounding over to the next one. 

He searched every row, multiple times too, looking for that perfect tree. Pete and Tom just looked on, hoping he’d settle on a decently sized and priced one soon. Eventually he did and it was Tom’s turn to get the attendant to wrap it up for them. 

Sooner rather than later it was strapped to the car and they were on their way home. Once they got there Tom started up on making soup to warm the chilly boy and Pete figured out how to get it set up and looking nice. 

Looking into the living room Tom couldn’t help but tear up. He really never thought that anything like this could ever happen to him, least of all with Pete. When he saw Pete’s plane fall into that flat spin back in 1986 he really thought that was it. That he’d never get the chance to tell Pete how he felt. And moreover, after learning of Nick Bradshaw’s passing he thought Pete would never be the same. 

Later, when Pete had admitted his feelings for him and all seemed right he still had a hard time believing it. Just when he had thought that maybe, just maybe they’d be okay, Carole Bradshaw had followed her husband. This was it, he thought. Pete is going to raise Bradley and Tom was going to become just a past fling, it wasn’t like he was going to have time for a relationship and a kid. But here he was. Watching the love of his life wrap lights around a Christmas tree with a child that calls him ‘Pops’. 

Later after the kid was in bed, tree decorated and Christmas movies watched, he and Pete sat on the couch basking in each other's arms and the glow of the fire. 

“Hey Tom?” Pete was quiet, not because he needed to be but because he didn’t want to disturb the peace they had found. 

“Yeah baby?” Tom was drawing idle patterns on Pete’s arm, also not wanting to disturb the peace. 

“I love you.” It was so simple, but Tom really wasn’t sure he would ever get used to it. 

“I love you too. You know I bought something after you two went out to the car.” It was random but it was in a small bag a couple inches away from him and he couldn’t help himself. 

“Oh yeah?” Pete turned slightly towards his partner and raised him a curious brow. 

Tom pulled the bag towards where they sat and pulled out a small sprig of mistletoe. Pete blushed and shook his head in laughter. 

“Babe, you know you don’t need that to get a kiss right?” He was already inching impossibly closer to Tom, hoping he knew where this was going. 

“I know, I just would like something to remind you. Maybe we can keep it up year round.” He was teasing Pete but it seemed he was growing impatient. He grabbed the plant from Tom and held it above their heads before pulling him into a hard kiss. Tom was kissing back in record time and they sank into it. 

Kissing wasn’t a new concept to them, obviously, but every time they did it never failed to make Tom’s heart flutter. Pete pulled away and set his arm down around Tom. 

They breathed heavily into each other's mouths and Tom broke into a smile. Pete was smiling too by the end and then they were laughing. This was comfortable, this was love. 

“Merry Christmas baby.” Pete had caught his breath enough to squeak the words out. 

“Merry Christmas Pete.” he hoped and prayed this was the standard for the rest of his Christmases. He finally had everything he ever wanted, a family.