#was mentally helping out the family with cooking and helping their mother treat people (medical stuff) it just fits kinda ya know

[rainbowangel110]

Don't mind me just eating this up :)

I know I originally said in a comment at some point about how annoying the Logan war got (think it was in that post asking why we all suddenly backed off) but now I just find your posts humoring it's like "THIS LITTLE GODDAMN PIECE OF SHIT-" and it's the most innocent picture of Logan.

Love seeing it nowadays (cuz it's funny), but you have a good point that he hasn't furthered the story yet but I feel like Red might change that soon. Hopefully. Also how we haven't had his backstory but that also might change too (we've got a hint in one episode where they fought his bullies, something about how his parents didn't want him and he fact that we've only seen his grandparents but not his actual parents says something....)

Anyways something I need to ask you! What are your opinions on the others, what you like about them or dislike, favorite moments and what not. I'm curious!

Sorry this may have been long!

SEE NOW YOU GUYS ARE GETTING MY HUMOR , THIS ACTUALLY MAKES ME SO HAPPY!!! THANK UUUUU A LOT

also UR SO GREAT FOR THE QUESTION YOU ASKED!! I love talking about everyone else

I’ll assess them in order of: ashlyn, aiden, taylor, tyler, ben (not by order of how much I like them or anything btw). Some sections are longer than others because I’m bias BUT ALSO BECAUSE I got tired of typing and realized there was wayyy tm to read. Sorry!!!! if you don’t wanna read all this I put a short summary all the way on the bottom + feel free to me ask me specific questions ! now let me talk your ear off

ASHLYN:

I really like ashlyn because she has the most potential out of everyone (and that’s not to say the other characters aren’t deep, because that’s the opposite of true but bae is the whole reason we’re here). I think she’s also really relatable in the sense that she doesn’t like interacting with people but she can easily take the leadership role when needed. like okay queen I see you. also I really enjoy the fact Red made her dislike aiden at first even though they have a side romance plot going rn. bc that’s how it would’ve been if they were real. ash would not just become chatty out of no where and fall head over heels for him. and I really appreciate the slowburn. Ashlyn’s also higher on my favorites list because I’m bias and we have the same hair length 😣 usually when characters have long hair, authors tend to let their hair flow a lot, but red put ts in braids 🙏 and ask anyone with long hair like that, their hair is up 99% of the time bc it’s annoying, hot, and (personally) GRABS ONTO EVERYTHING LIKE ITS A THIRD HAND. I have a lot of headcannons for ash just based on small character designs / aspects that not a lot of people really think about. She’s so interesting and I really just love her. And since I have positives, I’ll give one negative about her. In the beginning, Ashlyn was really hesitant to tell the group anything. I understand where she was coming from, and given Tyler’s reaction, I don’t blame her for keeping things to herself. But mannnn ts was so frustrating sometimes. it’s ok tho bc all good stories stress you out.

AIDEN:

omg guys it’s my favorite ever. I know aidens really popular already so I’ll try not to rant on about him forever but hes just the best 😣 but mans really does not gaf EVERR.

now I could rant on and on about how silly Aiden is and why he’s so misunderstood as a character, because he’s not crazy like at all and if anything he’s one of the smartest characters in sbg, but I’ll save if for a better time. Instead I wanna talk about how observant he is of Ben and ashlyn.

it’s cropping weridly, sorry. but aiden’s eyes are always watching the ones he cares about most. I feel like this has to do with the fact Ben cannot voice his concerns/opinions so aiden always has to glance at him to make sure he’s not missing any important signal. But I also think it has to do with his childhood (I don’t have fast pass or anything this is just based off of theories/analysis based on his character bc I do that a lot 🤒). Anyways, he has a specific way of comforting people that I think it’s rlly niche. He uses his hands and gets the person what he thinks they need. Like in the attached images he gets ashlyn fabric to squeeze and distracts her with light conversation, and he immediately offers to take a walk with Ben and get some fresh air. If a person refuses or asks him for space, he immediately obeys and doesn’t question their decision. He’s very trusting and understanding. He gives people room to make mistakes and gives them room to ask for help. I’m mainly bringing this up because it ties back to something I’m gonna talk about in Taylor’s section. I just think that this detail is so important to his character and we always brush over it. I don’t wanna say he doesn’t like physical touch, bc he’s always touching everything around him, but I like to think his main love language is acts of service. When you really look at it, his actions speak a lot louder than his bickering and it really helps display how much each character means to him individually. what elseee. He’s able to quickly adjust and assess situations (like when he attacked the phantom or pulled up ashlyn in the bus). He’s very quick to his feet and always needs to be interacting with something to keep his hands busy. Aiden just really don’t gaf 99% of the time (unless it’s Ben / ashlyn) and honestly that’s why I like him. He doesn’t take anything seriously or personally. clap it up for my hb. Also I notice the sbg fandom has a habit of doing it with everyone, but I feel like Aiden is always reduced to his impulsive behaviors and ‘crazy kid’ persona. please guys. look deeper into Aiden Clark. Instead of wasting your energy trying to defend a NERDY FREAK like Logan fields, you should study more on Aiden Clark and his complex character.

yes. do that. rn. You want to so badly. I know you do. Do it. Go reread sbg and focus on Aiden. wowwww. I know you want to. (I’m hypnotizing you btw) Or just ask me I can talk about Aiden (or really any character) alll day long. Ask me anything about anyone and I’ll tell you what I think with proof and evidence. yes. I just need to cut it short because I have to talk about everyone else to. But study Aiden Clark. do it. really. really. Right now. Go. Go. Now. PLUS Aiden’s probably the least likely to die because he’s to cool for that + he’s better than death and injury. YAAA!!! MAKE AIDEN CLARK UR FAV BC YOULL BE SAFE FROM ANGST 🎉

only thing I don’t like about Aiden gotta be his fashion sense sometimes (usually beginning S1). like WHAT R U WEARING MAN???? 🙁

TAYLOR:

okay now let me talk about my shnukums Taylor. I love her a lot but her and Tyler had very different childhoods regardless of the fact they were in the same situation.

We don’t know a lot about Taylor’s version of growing up, so a lot of the details are vague but everything I say is based off of observations and analyses I have personally made, so please take everything I say about Taylor’s backstory with a grain of salt and understand that no matter what, both twins were majorly affected by the passing of their father and illness of their mother.

At first i thought of Taylor was the more lucky one out of Tyler and Taylor when it came to their childhood. Yes she struggled, I knew that, but Tyler was under a lot of stress. But that’s when I realized that she suffered just as much. Although she didn’t need to sacrifice herself to help her family survive, like Tyler did, she went though the most loss. She lost her mother, father, and brother all overnight. One second they were all happy together and the next she was all alone. Physically, her mother and brother were still there, but they were both shells. Her mother isolated by grief and her brother isolated by responsibility. She was all alone. Yes Tyler did his best to support her, but at the end of the day, there wasn’t much he could do to change the situation. Taylor suffered a lot, and since people mostly focus on Tyler, we never really see Taylor’s POV of it all.

Now her backstory leads me into the fact Taylor is the most socially smart character in sbg. She is also the most observant and supportive. This is not to say others aren’t observant/supportive, like Aiden for an example, but she does it much differently. I would attach a picture here but I’m close to maxing out the photo limit and I want to save it for later.

Taylor is very good at reading the emotions of other characters. She is also very observant. Taylor is often the first to notice when a charater is uncomfortable, panicked, or harmed. For an example, she’s the first to notice Ashlyn’s fear back at the house. Unlike Aiden, Taylor is able to verbally let people know she is there for them. She comforts them through words and physical affection. Taylor is usually aware of how much support someone is in need of and the best way to display it for them specifically. For an example when Logan was getting bullied, she defended him against Tyler’s mean words and held his shoulder for reassurance. This same tactic would not work for ashlyn, and Taylor is aware of that. So, when ashlyn broke down about the struggles of being leader, Taylor comforted her through words and reassured her fears. Taylor opened up a space for ashlyn to be scared and share her burden. She was able to do all of this in only a couple of moments. This skills also becomes a werid quirk when she is able to sense Tyler’s condition in the hospital, but maybe that was just twin senses? 🤷‍♀️ idk

Taylor is also very aware of everyone around her. We know that she is very social and has a lot of friends and connections, but she also educates herself on the people she doesn’t interact with. Even if she doesn’t know a lot, she makes sure to acknowledge their presence at the very least.

What does her ability to read emotion have to do with her childhood? Well, Taylor basically lived with a shell of a family. Tyler was under constant stress, which made him prone to outbursts. Her mother was disabled by grief. Taylor was in a situation that made her feel like she had to take care of her family mentally. It was, to her, the least she could do. So, she was mentally mature from a very young age. Although having to hold the burdens of others constantly is very unhealthy, I’m not sure if she’ll crack because of it.

Taylor being very social and having a lot of friends is also another example of how she’s different from Tyler and how their shared childhood affected them differently. Tyler saw people as distractions while Taylor sees them as her means to keep living. Taylor lives off of other peoples energy, and she maintains the energy of other people by being a supportive beam for them. This is also why I’m okay with Taylor being shipped with others. She’s use to being around people and can form close bonds with others while still only viewing them as friends. Tyler cannot do the same. Taylor is in a position where she can expand her horizons into romantic relations if she was interested in doing so. That’s why I feel as though it’s okay (if that doesn’t make sense I’ll explain it again, but I tried to condense it down)

Something I don’t like about Taylor is that we haven’t gotten to see her brain in action yet. We know she’s the president of the robotics club , but we haven’t had the chance to see her charater support the story in any other way but socially and mentally. The story is only at 60 episodes though, and I’m sure we will see it eventually. Im just impatient and want to see women in STEM shine 😣😣 I wish I could talk about her more, but we barely know anything about Taylor as of right now. I will say it’s interesting how she told her and Tyler’s backstory, but only talked about how Tyler was affected and not herself. Interesting… I hope we learn more about her experiences and I hope I’m right 🙏 also CAN WE TAKE A MOMENT TO APPRECIATE HOW PRETTY SHE IS??? UGHH I LOVE HER SMM

TYLER:

I feel like Tyler has been the topic of discussion for the past couple of months because his backstory was revealed and the end of S1 / beginning of S2 was all about him and his past, so I don’t have a lot to say that I haven’t already said. but I do really like Tyler. At first when he was in his jock era I was very , oh! about him. but he’s actually warmed up to me sooooo much since then. he’s so goofy I just want more interactions between him and Aiden. I think I good place to start is how much I HATE people shipping him with other members of the main cast. I talked about it a little in Taylor’s section, but him and Taylor had very different childhoods. Again, I’m not saying their father’s death and mother’s illness was not hard on the both of them, but Tyler was under a lot of pressure too. We know he isolated himself harshly, and stopped having fun all together. The way I look at it, everything, including living day-to-day, became a chore for Tyler. Ever since he was a little kid. His dad’s death changed his entire world overnight. He had to learn how to physically and mentally support everyone important to him, because if he couldn’t no one else would. Tyler had to learn everything about living life by himself as a baby just so everyone else could survive. He stopped having fun. Little kids find fun in everything. Tyler stopped himself from finding it. He didn’t do anything for himself anymore. He was almost like a empty shell doing automatic tasks so that his sister and mother could have space to grow, heal, and live. In a sense, it was self sacrifice (which he attempts again when he tells the group to leave him behind)

So when Taylor tells us that the main cast started to become an extension of the family he sacrificed himself for, it’s so heavy on his character. Especially because for once in a long time he started relating his ‘family’ back to joy and fun, not just safety and survival. That’s why it bothers me when people ship him with others. It’s so werid to imply he’d date any of the main cast when he sees them as his family. consider them blood-siblings if you gotta, but just stop shipping them. PLEAASSSSEEEEEEEEEEE. otherwise I’ll eat your dog. thanks! also him being friends with the main cast at all is such a huge step for him. I don’t think Tyler has time to get involved with romantic relationships when he believes friends are a distraction. I know a lot of people go to romance when they want to express how strong a connection is between two characters, but you guys are forgetting that Tyler considering everyone as his friends is sooooo much more complex and deep compared to (for an example) Logan saying he considers everyone his friend. ANYWAYS ENOUGHHH!!! let’s move on.

I also wanna talk about this scene (I was to lazy to go find the original scene so the flashback is all you get). I never really realized how much ashlyn ordering Tyler around must’ve affected him. He literally spent his whole life making decisions and taking leadership and all of a sudden some random lil girl is over here telling him to stfu and sit his ass down. I would imagine as mad as he was, he probably felt a least a bit of relief. For once the responsibility wasn’t on him, at least not only on him. He could share his burden with others, and he wasn’t suffocated by being responsible for the lives of everyone else. We see this same struggle affect ashlyn, as she feels like being leader strangles her with the weight of guilt, paranoia, and responsibility. Imagine if Tyler had been the one to bare that weight after everything he’s already been through? he would’ve cracked, whether we like it or not. so let’s clap it up for ashlyn rq!!! yasss girl 😋 I know I’m rambling a lot about tyler but I know a lot about him and want to talkkk 😣 but here is my last point: Tyler’s coping mechanism to the unknown and things that confuse him is denial. Just like his mother 🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯

woww! do you guys remember when Tyler thought this whole thing was a joke? me too! he would’ve never thought this silly prank would almost kill him. Tyler’s mom probably thought her husband’s illness wouldn’t kill him either. oops! 😂 (I’m going kms). sorry. my point is they both refused to believe it happened (although his mom’s denial may have been more of a trauma response while his was just to help him cope). Even with evidence, they both couldn’t understand what had happened to them and pretending nothing was wrong. Tyler saw the picture of the phantom’s shadow and brushed it off to technology he couldn’t understand yet. he felt more comfortable with not knowing how technology worked rather than not knowing if he was in danger. his mother is similar. She couldn’t understand and cope with the death of her husband, even though he died in front of her. She felt more comfortable not understanding why he was late from work than understanding he was dead and gone. Guess it runs in the family? 🤷‍♀️ and since these are all things I like about his character, I will tell you what I don’t like. THAT STUPID ASS JOCK ATTUIDE FROM S1. okay I didn’t hate it, and it fit him sometimes, and I kinda miss it sometimes, but he’s like 5’5 and a stick, he is not beating no one’s ass 😭 respectfully. now he could probably rock me but he’s matured a bit since S1 so it’s different. Tyler’s not even my favorite idk why I talked about him sm , especially when I held off on talking about Aiden because I didn’t want to say to much 🤦‍♀️ whatever

BEN:

I have a lot to say about Benny boy, especially because he is SOOOOOO mischaraterized. Now I won’t go crazy like I did for the twins because I’m thinking about making a separate post just about Ben (maybe.. maybe not idk). plus I just reminded myself anon asked me to just say a few things I like and disliked about each charater not give crazy long paragraph about them. so, sorry Ben but you will probably have the most boring paragraph of them all. I still love you a lot pookie 🙏 I’m just tired AND MAXED OUT THE AMOUNT OF PICS I CAN USE EVEN THO I NEED TO TALK ABOUT U WHILE USING PICS 🤒 anyways enough rambling.

bens charater is often reduced to his backstory which genuinely makes me want to start tweaking out. if you expand on why his trauma affects him, then I will happily listen to you talk. But when most the fandom sees Ben as “music boy who hate bully, will fight you if you be mean” it makes me so SAAAADDDDD. no, Ben will NOT beat my ass for making fun of Logan. That’s like… the whole point of his backstory? He doesn’t like violence, at all. He’s ashamed of his anger issues. He blames himself for having to move and putting his family in danger. The only reason he got involved with Logan’s fight was because the phantom interference + no one was there to help calm him down.

also he doesn’t only do music. he draws too! he’s a very artistic dude. He also gardens. Ben be planting food and shit. which (as much as I HATE the ship) Logan n Ben shippers could probably use to their advantage. Yk bc Ben gardens and Logan helps his grandparents in their greenhouse? wtv. Bens prob growing flowers for Taylor anyways. Fuck Logan. sorry.

Ben is also very compassionate and gentle. He’s always thinking about what’s best for the group, even if it puts him in an uncomfortable position, like sharing his trauma. Ben is also very soft hearted. He gets flustered very easily, we see this when ashlyn and Taylor complimented him. He is very protective over those he cares about and he does not come to play, ever. Also his character development from S1 makes me so happy. He use to be attached to Aiden’s hip 24/7 and we could often only understand his emotions when Aiden would translate him to us. But we’ve seen lately that he’s much closer to Taylor, even putting her safety before his own.

wow, gentleman alert❗️if I didn’t run out of photo space than I would’ve shown more examples where he holds onto others as a way to comfort or protect them. he’s so respectful I might cry. maybe I will make a Ben-centered post. I need to show you guys pictures so you can understand what I’m saying. But Ben is growing and he needs more attention. thank you.

SUMMARY:

Ashlyn

pros:

- has crazy potential + most hinted at lore

- very relateable

-introverted but stands on business

-W relationship development between her and the cast, very natural and not forced

- her hair

cons:

- she is very hesitant to spill info (only in earlier chaps tho!)

Aiden

pros:

- silly

- observant of those he cares about

- acts of service love language

- trusting/understanding

- quick on his feet

- good at assessing situations/making plans

- he doesn’t GAF 🦅🦅 EVAAA

cons:

- often misunderstood / mischaraterized by the fandom

- has ugly ass outfits sometimes

Taylor

pros:

- most socially smart character in sbg

- good at reading emotions

- good at comforting others

- aware of her surroundings/the people around her

- supportive

- social

- super pretty

- wrote a paragraph on why it’s ok to ship her with the rest of the cast js cuz

cons:

- we don’t see enough of her robotics president side, show me women in STEM 🤬

- we never saw how she experienced childhood (yet..)

Tyler

pros:

- deep childhood trauma/responsibility

- sacrificed himself for his family twice

- not meant to be shipped with anyone in main cast

- sees main cast as family

- he finally made friends

- talked about the scene where ash tells him to shut his bitchass up

- copes by using denial (js like his mom)

cons:

- his jock attitude during S1

Ben

pros:

- hates violence

- angery at his anger issues

- ashamed of his past

- draws and gardens as hobbies

- compassionate and gentle

- soft hearted

- easily flustered

- very protective

- slow but steady quiet charater development

- a gentleman

cons:

- you guys mischaraterize him a lot (like someone told me he doesn’t change as a character bc he never speaks, ts made me mad asf)

THATS ALL! THANK YOU FOR ASKING!! again feel free to as me questions about anything at all even if you didn’t read allat. And if you did, thank you ur so sweet and amazing. Sorry for writing sm 😢

also everyone is open to their own opinions, this is just what I think. As always, I’m always down to debate.

[deusexmachinawitch]

How I revised my abusive mother

[TW: Child abuse, eating disorders]

I recently began my Law of Assumption journey, to be precise, maybe around a month ago when something really hard hit me and I was looking for a sense of direction besides witchcraft.

From there on, I manifested many things but I wasn't expecting to end up revising my mother of all people.

For a context, I'm the oldest child in my family with only a younger brother. Before my brother's birth, I was the apple of my mother's eye and we had a really good relationship with each other even if there wasn't any father in the picture since the relationship between my parents was really strange. While I was mostly by myself as a child, knowing that my Mom was fighting for me every day was enough. I took care of the house, learned how to cook at a very young age and kept my grades pretty well. But as soon as my younger brother was born, things began to shift.

In many Asian countries, having a son is like the best thing that could happen to you. My Mom was no exception to this and began doting on my brother in a ridiculous amount. I didn't feel jealous about it but I admit that I did feel bitterness because I was pushed to parent my younger brother and treat him like gold while my Mom worked. Still, then again, my brother was younger than me and was born sickly but eventually recovered. I worked on my issues by myself and just thought that I had to do the right thing because my brother was not at fault for my Mom's behavior.

Still, as years passed, many things happened. Because my Mom received a lot of attention when my brother was sick, she began lacing my food with rotten food to make me sick and get sympathy and even at one point she went "doctor shopping" to try to make me diagnosed with things I didn't have to get sympathy and feel like she was a good mother by taking care of me. Things escalated with the years to physical and verbal abuse, my food was rationed because she didn't want to have "a fat child" and I was the target of this behavior for years until I left.

She got diagnosed later with BPD and schizophrenia and our relationship was pretty much strained because every time I had any conversation with her ended up with insults or fights. I didn't hate her though, I just saw her as a pitiful woman with an obsession with her son. My brother did a lot of bad things and even took advantage of her mental illness to steal money from her or other things I don't want to mention. Still, my Mom enabled him so much that he was out of control. My Mom allowed him to do whatever as long he was studying to get a diploma because that's how many Asian parents are obsessed with education.

When I started LoA, I was expecting to get some things and I was happy that my self-concept was getting better. One of the things I did was to do a list of the things I wanted to manifest and one was a nice shiny tarot deck that I really liked (I use a list method, I'll mention it in another post). Then, I decided to revise all of the people that hurt me, one of them was my Mom. I thought... What could go wrong? If she changes, it would be a miracle.

And like 48 hours after I did the list with the tarot deck and revised my Mom, my Mom contacted me and she was behaving like a normal person. She wasn't angry or harassing me like she always did. She asked how my health was doing and such. Then she told me that she got her dream come true, that she was going to move out from the bad area she was in and moving to an apartment in front of the beach. She also mentioned me that she kicked out my brother from her house because apparently he was lying about going to university when in reality he wasn't and leeching from my Mom. She also said that a cousin of hers was moving next to her to help her with remembering taking her medication and that she was really happy and wanting to have a fresh start.

But the freakiest thing was that my Mom said that she dreamed about gifting me a tarot deck because she remembered how much I loved Cardcaptor Sakura as a child and she loved how I played with my toy cards like I was doing a future reading to her as a child and she wanted to gift me a tarot deck to do readings for her. I showed her the deck I wanted, said it was beautiful and that she was going to buy it for me in her next paycheck.

One of the things I revised was for her to get into her old hobbies before she had my brother like writing and she told me that she was going to get back to writing and other things like gardening and such, things that made her relax a lot.

Since that happened, I talk to my Mom every single day and she has been a lovely person to be around. She doesn't cuss or come up as angry anymore. I came into LoA without expecting much change but this one was really a pleasant surprise. I am so happy to have come across LoA and I'm glad I revised my Mom even if I didn't persist much on it, just said things inside like "I miss my old Mom, it would be nice to have her again" and things like that.

Never think that something is impossible, to me this was the most impossible thing to happen and it happened. I'll continue persisting and affirming how good my Mom is to keep her this way.

I'm so grateful right now.

[island-ghost-dj]

OC INFO

NICKNAME: Honey

Age: 26

Gender: Nonbinary They/He

Sexuality: Gay/Poly (no partners yet)

Background story below! Keep in mind the triggers in the tags please.

Honey is a transmasculine nonbinary. For the sake of this audition, he will be named as Honey and uses the pronouns He/him and they/them.

He has an older sister and a younger brother. Growing up he had a lot of anger issues and was speculated to be on the autism spectrum but never received specialized help or therapy for it. Honey was straightforward to anger and was physically aggressive to other children younger than him and to his younger brother.

When he reached high school, he realized how awful he was in the past and tried very hard to amend his mistakes. He went out to the people that he bullied in the past and apologized for his behavior, which was mostly met with appreciation with the exception of his younger brother. This change in personality made him more responsible and his parents granted him permission to own a single Pokemon for himself. After much consideration, he went on to select a Cutiefly, who was imported from the Alola region.

His younger brother began to resent and distance himself away from Honey, which Honey was worried about. Honey tried earnestly to make things better but as his younger brother got older, his brother grew more aggressive, mirroring his past self. Though this behavior was concerning, his parents did nothing to enforce better behaviors and enabled the younger brother to meet his needs.

His brother became resentful after Honey became successful in his personal romantic relationships, being able to date people, where he couldn’t attract anyone due to his personality.

Honey began to grow as a person and came to the realization that they were trans. So eventually he began to seek hormone treatment before moving on to receive procedures so he could become more masculine. This involved face masculinization surgery, surgery to make his voice deeper, a top surgery, and even a hysterectomy.

His parents and older sister were a little surprised with him coming out but gradually became more supportive over time; with his older sister being the most supportive. However, his younger brother became intolerable and more resentful of Honey ruining his childhood and blamed him for his depression and lack of friends. The younger brother declared himself to be an only sibling, not seeing his other siblings as family. The younger brother hated Honey for his past actions and for being trans.

Honey was rather well liked in his community and family. He had a good number of friends and worked hard to be healthy and to become a better person. Quite the polarizing opposite of his brother who couldn’t prosper or muster enough effort to become anything better than himself.

His younger brother began to leave horrendous comments and tried to sabotage Honey’s mental well-being and health, by stealing his medication, destroying his property, and bullying him. Honey voiced these concerns to the family who would then argue with his younger brother. The brother would stop for a few days and then start doing the same things again.

While he was helping his mother cook dinner, he noticed that his Cutiefly had gone missing. When he went out to search for his partner Pokemon, he saw that his younger brother had tortured his Pokemon, cutting its wings and limbs off with a kitchen knife.

The rest of the family came to the scene of the fight after hearing the two brothers yelling and fighting. The two were separated until the authorities came. Honey was rushed to the nearest Pokemon center to be treated for their wounds. Honey survived his attacks but his Cutiefly did not.

At this time Honey was not a Pokemon trainer, merely an owner. His Cutiefly did not fight battles and the two would instead cultivate a garden together.

After seeing what his younger brother had done to his dear Pokemon, Honey attacked his brother, who sliced his mouth, leaving behind a scar at the corner of his lip. He was then stabbed at his chest, the intense pain resulted in him in a dizzy haze and left incomprehensible.

After his brother was sent to jail, Honey became depressed and miserable; blaming himself for the death of his Pokemon. His parents didn’t know what to say to him and avoided him throughout the day, leaving behind messages on sticky notes and text messages. His older sister didn’t live at home and had her own personal life so she couldn’t comfort or give Honey the peace he needed.

Honey mostly lingered in the garden where he had spent the most time with his darling Cutiefly. One night while stargazing, he found a Duskull wandering through the sunflowers he had planted. Though his heart was not ready for another Pokemon, he was kind to the Duskull and the two would sit in silence, stargazing.

That same night, Honey ran away from home.

The Duskull would only appear at night and would flee at the first sight of Honey’s parents. One particular night, on the former Cutiefly’s birthday, Honey did not come out to the garden. He cried in his room over the loss of his departed friend. The Duskull heard his cries from the garden and phased through the walls, bringing with him a small flower from the garden, mimicking an action that the Cutiefly did prior to their death.

It was through this action that Honey concluded that the Duskull before him was the manifestation of the Cutiefly’s soul and love that he had for him. Without telling anyone, he captured the Duskull, presenting to him a luxury ball to which the Duskull responded by gently tapping its head against the pokeball, to allow himself to be captured.

He went on to accomplish a childhood dream of taking on the Elite Four. But due to his untreated anxiety and depression, his once Duskull turned Dusknoir became increasingly violent and aggressive to other trainers and Pokemon in an attempt to protect Honey.

There was an incident where Grim, his Dusknoir savagedly attacked another trainer’s Pokemon so severely with psychic damage it caused a seizure. Honey was then taken into police custody and ordered by a court judge to seek help at a mental health facility.

It was there he gained the nickname Honey. The facility had strict food regulations so whenever he wanted something sweet, he would eat a spoonful of honey.

After staying at the facility for a year and a half, Honey was let go.

It was through his inheritance that he received land property from his deceased grandfather that he would travel to the Alola Region to run his own onsen business.

[khr-guilded-cage]

Basically Tsuna got kidnapped from the Nursery as a baby, Iemitsu was away on business and blamed Nana, he didn't filled missing people reports because he said Tsuna was probally killed. Iemitsu abandons her alone in the house after that, but they still married. Sawada Nana develops anorexia, insomnia, stress and depression, neglects the house and herself, can barely stay on her feet or walk without fainting, has deep abandonment issues, but remains dreamily obsessed with her perfect family and missing husband.

Nana clearly wants to use Ichigo/Tsuna to fix her broken marriage and broken family, giving her phone call to Iemitsu with her asking when he is coming home to see 'their son' with a edge in her voice (both want pretend nothing bad happened delusional much?), trap him in Namimori. She said it as much, insisting he 'cant leave', 'thats was his home now', 'her son was home and will never leave her sight if she could' and 'she glad Tsu-chan is back home where he belongs' and tells him now his 'father' is finally coming home and they will cook together and be a family again, has a weird fixation in 'cooking for her husband and son'. She has a hysterical attack of panic (saying she is not insane, that its not just a dream) when Ichigo leaves for a school (and before that, when he goes back to his appartement and then orders him to live with her in the Sawada household), coming to his room at night to watch him sleep, and is deeply obsessed and clingly with him. This woman is delusional and in denial, I swear. They need to put her in a mental ward for professional help.

Nana calls him her 'Tsu-chan' and treats him like a small child, seen to ignore the existence of his foster family and expect him to stay with her forever (she didn't think he has a life and school in another town? Already has loving parents? Iemitsu clearly would want 'Tsu-chan' to stay with his 'real family'. I wish Ichigo confronted her like 'no, thats not my name, call me Ichigo or I will not answer to it'/'I already have a father, thank you very much'/ 'I am not staying, just visiting, this is not my home'/Masaki is not my 'adopted' mother, she's my only mother. when she called Reborn after Ichigo explicit told her its scam, don't call him, I wish he was just like...you are not my legal guardian, if you keep refusing to listen to me, I am going to just leave, Nana).

Nana insists Iemitsu is Ichigo's father and he says nothing???

Like...what do mean by 'I cant leave'? I have a life and a family. I am not staying, Nana. And you need a fucking therapist. I would love to see the crazy bitch try to stop him from leaving.

Its not 'better to let her believe what she wants', call that delusional bitch out of her shit, for Tsuna's sake if nothing else. Confront her about Iemitsu and her condition. Ma'am, what the hell. 'I will rip out the neddle and come after you if you don't come back?' Then do it, bitch.

'Going to Italy after finishing Reborn's training'? The Vongola Decimo would be forced to abandon his friends and family (and medical career) to go to Italy. Why no one understand that? Ichigo deserves better. Mafia Boss is a awful job with no freedom, just tons of papework and death, nobody should want that. Ichigo wants to be a Doctor. The author suggest he can...be both? WHAT?

Reborn keep being his annoying bastard self, calling Ichigo Tsu-chan to annoy him and spying on, kick him in the head saying to 'don't tell him what to do', saying he will sleep in Tsuna's room. Ichigo...get out of here. Now. 'Gather the family the Decimo needs' = throw people at him.

Also, Shamal steals a blood sample from the hospital. Still, this author portraits her as a good mother (a lioness protecting her cub? really?) and Vongola as good too. Somehow. Her cute 'mothering' and wanting to 'care' for Ichigo is toxic as hell, but I like her portrait.

I kinda got frustrated at the path this crossover took and I love Adopted!Tsuna and Nana as mental ill, but there are so few of them.

Sawada Nana is a depressed and mental ill woman not suitable to be a mother at all, with a ditzy, naive, idiot and dumb personality, she's a very annoying person with her rose tinted glasses. She needs a firm hand and a wake up to reality. She thinks her Iemitsu-kun is perfect and wants Ichigo to accept him as a father after the bullshit he pulled for all those years? I want a rewrite where people are like 'No, Sawada. He is not staying with you, you are not his mother, he is not abandoning his loving foster family for a delusional crazy woman and her absent drunken husband. He is not here to play dollhouse. You're a fucking bitch.' What kind of woman lets a stranger live in her house? Nana would probally forgot Tsuna inside a hot car. God, I hate that woman as much I pity her.

Did Iemitsu married her just to continue Primo bloodline? Because she is easy to control? Has powerful Flames? Dosed her with Mist or Harmony?

"Ichigo would make a great boss, he acts like a boss should be" No. Being mature and having leadership skills (like the author keep praising Ichigo) won't make him a good Mafiosi of all things. He would not make a good murder/criminal, he would be a wonderful doctor. And where is Xanxus? Ichigo is 17, the Vongola would be searching for a heir already. Also, he clearly deserves peace and a long life (Nono's sons died gruesome deaths), not the Vongola's bullshit. Does he realize he would have to abandon Nana too? His children would be forced to be Unidiecimo and his marriage would be political?

Ichigo won't call Timoteo 'grandfather' or accept Iemitsu as a father. He'd never bow to those greedy arrogant vile men and their plots for his life. If Reborn hits him, he'd hit back harder. I don't think he would get along with Tsuna's Canon Guardians either.

Adopted!Tsuna is free, of Vongola's radar and manipulations, his birth family's bullshit and little dollhouse, the noose on his neck, Reborn's abuse, the target on his back...so stop caging him back.

I understand the author shared the story with me not wrote it for me. This is constructrive criticism. Tutor Twilight had a good idea but a awful execution.

[smittenroses]

may i rq headcanons about kurt just. in general. just anythinge

General Kurt Headcanons

I will be discussing Kurt's mental health after a certain point, including talking about my theories of the asylum, how he got out, and the history of his home life. If you feel like I've gotten anything wrong/could word things better, message me or send an ask.

Content warnings for: talk about asylums/mental institutions, fire, fire trauma, talk about hallucinations, false memories, and death

Kurt is no longer allowed to cook in the kitchen without supervision. He has a terrible habit of undercooking or overcooking food since he doesn't have a good sense of time. Even caused a fire at one point. There are meals that Kurt is allowed to cook himself, but he has a special box for that sort of stuff. Lucky put this box together for him in the form of a gift.

Kurt is a fan of Patricia's cooking, he will eat all her food without question no matter what, same with Norton.

Kurt loves spicy foods, especially curries and meats.

it might not seem like it, but he and Freddy get along very well surprisingly. Nobody knows why.

he doesn't like sleeping in his room, instead he seems to enjoy camping out in the lounge room or the library. People can find him asleep in these two places a lot.

Kurt constantly, CONSTANTLY, will go on tangents about things he enjoys. He is passionate about many things, and thus will go to people like Norton when he wants to learn things about cave exploring since when he gets out, he wants to go and explore beautiful caverns.

falls down the stairs more than once.

also runs into walls.

constantly forgets that the manor can change shape whenever it sees fit.

he likes to stick cute band aids on people when they're hurt or having a bad day, though he always carries plain ones too for those that don't like the cute ones.

he's around 30-35 years old.

grey hair young is something that runs in his dad's side of the family and has been greying since his mid-20s

Here is where I talk about the content warnings

While in the asylum, Kurt was actually treated the nicest out of most people due to the fact he always wanted to help everyone around him in the adult ward (he has not a single bad bone in his body) and even got to help the nurses/nuns with the children when they allowed him to.

Kurt is very hyper during most days, however there are days where he will not want to do anything and will try to avoid most human contact.

Emily knew him before the manor due to her time at the asylum, and thus there is a bit of bias of her to him, however Kurt doesn't remember her, nor does he remember Galatea, Robbie or Emma/Lisa.

He has slight memory issues due to prolonged effects of procedures and medications he was forced to take (mostly short term, however, faces and things from the war are blurry to him, and even before that can be a bit blurry sometimes), however, he has gotten a lot better since escaping to the manor since those things aren't there.

Kurt was released by the nurses/nuns due to the fact they didn't believe he was going to hurt himself or others, however they did ask for him to come back sometimes to do frequent check-ups to try and maximise his chances of being able to live a full and fulfilling life.

Kurt's mother's side has a long history of schizophrenia, however, it had skipped his mother.

Before the asylum, Kurt had been able to lay low about his schizophrenia, however, when he went to war it went on top of his childhood trauma and caused for it to become worse.

Kurt experienced a fire in his childhood and had almost died from it, and due to it plus the hospital at the time being overfilled with other people, he has lost most feeling in his elbows and knees and down on his limbs, which means he has a great tolerance to pain.

The fire caused PTSD, and by extension, his schizophrenia. Before that he had just auditory hallucinations on the occasion, after the fire they got more frequent as well as beginning visual hallucinations. On the worst days he'll see fire everywhere and feel hot, he has learnt to try and ignore it for the most part.

Kurt has experienced great loss in his life from losing six siblings, and his only surviving sister is very weak as well.

Kurt didn't originally believe in the stories he read, however, he began to use them to cope and ended up creating false memories in order to try and deal with the struggles in his life.

[millerflintstone]

My mother is having a time of it living with my cousin and her family in Guatemala. She is so not used to living with people who call it like they see it and don't enable her fictions.

She's convinced my cousin is using my sister's inheritance for herself even though my cousin has explained my mom's medical costs to her and has a detailed ledger. The latest thing is that she wants to be "thrown out in the street" than live with them.

Mind you, my mom is fed 3 home cooked meals a day, has put on weight to where she's a little chubby now, and her vitals are good even though she has some chronic conditions. Because they don't enable her like my sister did, my cousin and her family are "bad"

Of course, she won't admit that to me.

She's 80, in the first stages of Parkinson's and just a difficult human. On the one hand, I feel for her because I don't know what trauma she endured that caused her to be like she is. She's very likely lived her whole adult life with anxiety and depression that's never been treated. She's also very likely got narcissistic personality disorder. On the other, there is just the frustration and resentment that she was never able to try to be a functioning adult for the sake of her children but logically I know she was never at a self aware state to do that.

It's just mentally exhausting.

I'm lucky that my cousin doesn't want her to be put in a home and is willing to take care of her. I'm very grateful. Even if we weren't restricted to travel, my cousin knows with my job and all I couldn't take care of her without outside help and would prefer to do this. So grateful.

[achaoticeternal]

Asset Protection

Ransom Drysdale x Reader request from capshoney: Ransom with 31 and 39?

Summary: Ransom is oddly kind to you, but you always brush it off because of your closeness with his mother. Word Count: 2.4k

31) “If we’re going to keep ending up in life-or-death situations, trust that I will save you every single time.” 39) “Wait, are you saying you want to move in with me?”

“(Y/N),” You heard your name spoken with calmness, yet with authority from the black office phone that sat to the right of your Mac Desk Top. Everything was finely put in place, perfectly organized so that you could complete any task at a moment’s notice.

Currently, your eyes were fixated on the screen of the desktop, checking over the calendar for Mrs. Drysdale and various appointments she or her husband previously set so that you could coordinate a time for her to meet with a fairly new client. Your job was supposed to be centered around organizing Mrs.Drysdale’s emails, clients, and setting her calendar. Yet, your job description originally didn’t include practically becoming her personal assistant in both her workplace and life.

“(Y/N),” Mrs. Drysdale’s voice called again with just a touch of impatience.

Quickly, you picked up the phone and opened her full calendar for the month, along with opening both her husbands’ and sons’ schedules in minimized tabs.

“What can I do for you, Mrs. Linda?”

“Father’s will reading shall be taking place on Saturday at 3 pm,” She promptly stopped and you quickly began typing away into Mr. and Mrs. Drysdale’s calendar.

“Aare there any arrangements you would like particularly made? Dry-cleaning? Have to cook set up a lunch or appetizers?”

“I need two items. First of all, have my pink suit pressed and dry-cleaned please,” You quickly scribbled down her request onto a post-it note, “and secondly, if you could stop by son’s little bachelor pad and ask if he plans to attend that would be phenomenal. And make sure his maid is still coming and that he hasn’t managed to scare her off yet. You can do that after your lunch break.”

“Yes ma’am, anything else?”

“Actually, if you could go now, you could pick up some lunch for him. I doubt he’s had anything besides a protein shake and who knows what else. Charge it to the VISA”

“Of course, ma’am. Have a wonderful afternoon.”

“Thank you, sweetie.”

After five years, 2 years as an intern and 3 as an actual employee, you had come to know and be known by Mrs. Drysdale’s full family. They were an interesting mix of hard workers with rich kid mentalities. Well, most of them. And they were ever a loud crowd. But quite recently, her father had died from a supposed suicide. Of course, that truly wasn’t any of your own business, you just coordinated the funeral date, the invitations, the catering, and anything which the family didn’t want to settle themselves. At the end of it all, you weren’t permitted to attend the funeral which in all honesty made a fair amount of sense.

You didn’t know Harlan at all personally, but he was always kind to you and asked his daughter and her family to treat you with kindness. But two factors didn’t make sense about the funeral. Why they didn’t allow Harlan’s sweet nurse, Marta, to attend… and why Ransom Drysdale didn’t make an appearance at his beloved grandfather’s funeral?

                                                           -  -  -

The little doorbell camera rang as you balanced a paper sack and drink tray in one arm, and your purse and phone in the other. You waved at the camera, knowing he got humor out of watching people wait for him through his recently upgraded phone.

“Afternoon, Ransom. You know I would usually let myself in with the key above the door frame, but as you’ll notice,” you attempted to show off full your hands were, ”My hands are quite full. If you could kindly-”

The large wood door swung open into Ransom’s modern house before you could finish your sentence. And there stood Ransom in a pair of black jeans, a creme shirt, and a burgundy cardigan which you gave him for Christmas two years ago. If he had a scarf and boots on, you would’ve suspected that he just returned home from an outing.

“-open the door,” you stepped inside and made your way promptly to the kitchen, “Glad to see that you're fully awake and you didn’t leave any trash for me to pick up. How sweet. That makes what? Three months?”

“Well, it’s been four months since I brought home a pretty little thing for any bar or club,” Ransom took a seat on a stool and watched you unload your items onto the kitchen island. From the brown paper sack, you pulled two clear to-go containers; one containing Ransom’s favorite turkey and rye sandwich and a side of fruit salad, and in the other, your preferred lunch meal of choice. He threw you his signature smirk as you handed him his container, his hand soft grazing yours, “Are you proud of me, (Y/N)?”

Both his words and his actions caused your cheeks to fluster a bit. You understood how unprofessional your encounters with Mrs. Drysdale’s son were, but either she made it a point to notice or she simply didn’t care. Linda had only taken comfort in you a few times, but her frequent concern was Ransom and his future.

“Of course I am,” You smiled at him kindly, before returning back to business reaching into the bag again to obtain napkins and cutlery, “Now, your mother will pester me about this if I don’t get an answer to her in the next twenty-four hours. Do you...”

Ransom’s gaze shifted down to the pile on the counter where he noticed a napkin with black spots.

“...Do you plan to attend the reading of the will? I mean, after his birthday and not attending the funeral, I’m not sure what your p-”

“Yeah, I’ll be there, but (Y/N),” sipping your drink, you turned around to see what had captivated him, “who wrong this note?”

On the napkin was inscribed:

Does sleeping with him get you extra money from his mommy?        X. 

“Wh-what? I need a drink, that doesn’t even make sense. I haven’t even spent the night here, well except for when your mother left me here for four hours the night before our business trip but I’ve never even entered your room with you in there. This is just some small... little...” but the world seemed to fade quickly.

                                                          -  -  -

“Does she have any family?”

“Her mother and sister live in Vermont, but no one in the state. We treat her like part of our family”

The two female voices continued their conversation as you opened your eyes but quickly covered them to adjust yourself to the light. You saw Ransom sitting in one of the chairs while Linda answered any medical or personal questions. 

“Where are we? Ransom- what happened?”

“Well, what’s the last thing you remember?”Ransom asked.

Telling you how proud I am of you.

“Asking about your schedule for the weekend?” From there on, things were blurry, but shapes and colors would stand. Things you might remember later.

“From your report, it seems you were drugged. Nothing heavy, but quite fast-acting. At least, you weren’t behind the wheel when this happened,” The nurse responded, “You’re free to leave, thanks to Mrs. Drysdale here.”

Linda gave the nurse the same smile she gives to every client after a sale, “Thank you, now let’s get to my car. Hugh, your father is probably waiting at the house with dinner. And you better behave, because Ms. (Y/L/N) will be our guest tonight”

                                                         -  -  -

The dinner table inside the Thrombey House was on the quiet side, even though the full family was in attendance. It wasn’t your first time attending such an event, but it wasn’t one you made frequent. The youth spent most of the meal on their phones while the adults chattered about various topics, and even asked you a few questions about future aspirations or opinions on the current state of something you probably couldn’t care less about tonight. Everyone tried to engage themselves in something, except for Ransom who picked at his food and made a few crass comments under his breath. You took the slight lull to speak up.

“Thank you for allowing me to stay for the evening. My car is stranded at Ransom’s and getting an Uber this late in the evening is-”

“(Y/N), you’re my go-to girl, my secretary, practically my personal assistant. I couldn’t allow for anything bad to happen to you. You’re far too... valuable to be lost,” Linda never spoke like this, unless she needs to boast about her own self-made business and image.

“In fact,” it was now Richard’s turn to begin boasting about how you were so helpful to the entire Drysdale family and coordinating the funeral and this and that and you just couldn’t comprehend why such a family always had to one-up each other. It simply had to be exhausting.

Fran then entered into the dining area and began clearing plates. You offered to assist her, but she mustered up a smile that said she could handle it by herself. When she came around to take your plate, a neatly folded piece of paper sat right underneath it. Quickly, you snatched it from its’ position, hoping to one saw the paper or your sly movements. 

You thought you could get away with it until you felt a foot connect with your shin. Blue eyes met your own and you knew Ransom saw everything. He just seemed to always pay close attention to you, maybe a sign of concern or endearment. And you could tell exactly what his eyes were saying.

“Well, thank you, all of you with providing me dinner and a room for the night,” You quietly slid your chair back and stood.

“Of course, dear. Hugh,” Ransom peered to his mother as if surprised by her attention, “Please show, (Y/N), our guest room before you make your own exit for the evening.”

Ransom lead you easily up the oak staircase to the second floor where he pushed you inside what seemed to be a supply closet. A large supply closet mainly filled with old board games but still a simple closet.

“What was that paper you were so quick to hide?”

You tugged it out of your pocket and unfolded it, smoothing the creases so you could read the context better.

Asset protection is important for any and every company.                       X.

“This one doesn’t even make sense! How do you go from a direct attack on me to this- this load of shit!”

“Well, in my eyes a person who won’t make a better effort to threaten you or do it in a more accurate way is a piece of shit,” Ransom’s eyes skimmed over the paper, “But this time, it’s remarkably true. My parents admire your hard work for them, so you are an asset in a way.”

You felt fear knot up in your stomach, you couldn’t understand what someone could have against you. In every aspect, you were an honorable citizen who made a fair living. It just didn’t add up, “Where’s the guest room? I need to sleep.”

“Right, but I’m going to show you a different way into the guest room,” He grabbed your hand before leading you across the hall into another bedroom. The pair of you crept into the closet and Ransom kicked a panel in the wall. A door quickly slid open and the pair of you made your way up a little staircase, “Harlon just loved his hiding places”

“Ransom. If I’m in potential danger? What do I do? I don’t have to first clue in-

“Well, first of all, don’t be so damn trusting. It makes you an easier target. Second of all, find somewhere or someone you can stay with that you could seek comfort and safety in, at least until you feel safe.”

Both of you came to a stop as you made it to a small door. But a little idea popped into your head, “Well, could I stay in that big house of yours? I don’t have any family here and I refuse to go bankrupt in a motel room because of a potential stalker. I know it might be strange given our past flirtations, but I-”

“Wait, are you saying you want to move in with me?”

“Not really, move in. That would mean something completely different and- and completely out of the question because of my position in your moth-”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You can stay with me. It’ll be nice to have a welcomed guest around,” Ransom pushed open the door and emerged into the guest which felt like a victorian guest suite set up, “and that’s why we came in through the back”

In the front of the door was tripwire for a possible trap unseen, but just the thought stirred you in unpleasant ways. Ransom searched the room before finding three darts ready to fire at any notice, “I’m really looking like a good guy, stopping any threats before they happen.”

“Yeah, it’s almost out of character,” You grabbed the glass of water by the nightstand.

Quickly, Ransom snatched the water from your hand, leaving you shaking, “Niether of us brought a glass up with us and I’m not going to have a repeated visit to the hospital to be asked if I gave you a date rape drug.”

He entered the attached bathroom and poured its’ contents in the sink while you sat yourself upon the bed. Thinking of the events from today. Shakily, you looked up to Ransom, “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I haven’t done anything. I-”

“Maybe someone is trying to get your attention,” He sat beside you and took your left hand into his right, using his thumb to caress the gentle skin, “And you still have me, though this is too far outside my comfort zone with any woman. If we’re going to keep ending up in life-or-death situations, trust that I will save you every single time.”

“Thank you, Ransom. For offering your assistance. For making sure I don’t get myself hurt. For not being a huge dick to me also,” you laughed.

“Well, what’s my mother’s is mine, and I happen to like her little personal assist,” before he stood from the bed, he gave your knuckles a strangely gentle kiss, “good night, (Y/N). I’ll see you at Breakfast”

Everything blurred, including Ransom’s exit, as you feel into a soft slumber.

:———————————————————————:

let me know if you think this deserves a part 2 or anything!

[dearest-bucky]

Burning heart (One Shot)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes seems to hate Y/n with a burning passion. Is everything as it seems though?

Words: 3.8K

Warnings: angstyyyyy but with a happy ending, Bucky is mean and I wanna punch him even though I love him (thank God for having everything saved in my laptop xp)

Originally posted: February 24, 2020

The compound is almost empty today, much to anyone’s surprise. With most of the team out on a long mission, the only people left to wander the living areas are Bucky and y/n. The only two people from the team who don’t get along. At all.

She knew that Bucky was somewhere training or simply sulking around the place, so she was trying to be extra careful with her moving, reducing the times she went to the kitchen to get food, going as far as isolating herself in her room for hours.

It wasn’t her fault that Bucky didn’t like her and they didn’t get along. She liked the ex-Winter Soldier, maybe a little too much, more than she should, considering how he treats her and such. But she can’t help feeling the way she does.

From the safety of her room she asked in a timid voice, “Friday, where is Sergeant Barnes?”

“He’s currently in the gym miss.” Came the immediate response.

Y/n sighed in relief and after offering a hushed thanks to the A.I she hurried to make her way to the kitchen. She was craving some chocolate chip cookies and she wanted to make her mother’s recipe for it, besides it would be a welcome home present for the other team members, they were supposed to come back from their mission in the afternoon.

Not wasting any time, she quickly got to work as soon as she set foot in the kitchen, trying her best to be as quiet as possible. It was ridiculous really, just like Bucky or everyone else, she lives in the compound, it’s her right to use each and every area of it, as long as she is not violating anyone’s privacy.

But Bucky, he was a total different thing. He couldn’t stay in the same room as her for more than 5 minutes even if their lives depended on it. He always criticized her, always had an insult to throw her way. It was as if he hated the woman, and y/n had no idea what had she done to deserve such treatment from him.

She was finished with the first batch of cookies and putting them to bake in the oven when she noticed Bucky enter the kitchen. He didn’t even spare her a glance, just headed to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap and drinking with large sips. He looked tired, probably wore himself out with the punching bag, skin sweaty and hair dump, sticking on his forehead.

Y/n couldn’t help but stare at him. He was very handsome, with his brooding and almost dangerous features, but his eyes, they were always blue and soft and y/n couldn’t help but lose herself in them.

Bucky noticed her staring and scoffed in annoyance.

“What are you looking at?” He asked her, a little too bitterly for y/n’s taste.

She cleared her throat, embarrassed that he caught her staring, a red shade of blush dusting her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I was just lost in thoughts, didn’t mean to stare or make you feel uncomfortable.”

Her words were quiet, but she knew Bucky could hear her anyway.

“As if.” He replied almost taunting and left the kitchen, not saying another word. As if she could make him feel uncomfortable.

Bucky hated the idea of being alone with y/n. He hated the fact that she was so nice to him, always going out of her way to see to his every need, always offering her help with anything he was supposed to figure out by himself. He hated how she cooked for the whole team and always saved him a plate, never forgetting to call him down when the food was ready or when they were all hanging out, watching movies or playing silly games.

Y/n used to be a part of the Avengers, a very important asset to the team, with her powers and skills, she was amazing and fierce and a total badass. But everything changed two years ago, only a few months before Bucky came back from Wakanda.

Y/n had been captured by Hydra and tortured for three long months, she never said in detail what they did to her there, but whatever it was ruined her for good. She suffered a lot even after Steve and Natasha found her and brought her back home. She was mentally incapable of going on another mission or anything like that, that’s why Tony and Steve decided she would not participate in another mission for as long as it was needed for her to fully recover.

Bucky was sitting on the couch of the common room, reading a book, when he heard Friday’s mechanical yet very vivid voice inform him about the arrival of the team from their mission. He closed the book and got up from the place, ready to meet Steve and the others.

They came one after the other through the door with animated chatter, looking surprisingly well considering they had been on this mission for more than two weeks.

Steve was the first one to go to Bucky and hug him, then the rest of the team greeted him too. After the questions about the mission and if they were all fine, Steve was the first to ask about y/n’s whereabouts.

“Have you seen y/n today?” He asked Bucky, but the latter didn’t have time to answer because at that moment the woman entered the common room with two large plates full of chocolate chip cookies.

“Hey guys” she greeted them all with a wide smile and Sam was the first one to go to her, take the plates from her hands and pecked her cheek lightly.

Steve went up to her next, enveloping her in a warm hug which she happily returned. “How are you?” He asked in a hushed voice, only for her to hear.

“I’m okay. How are you? The mission went okay?”

He nodded and kissed her head.

Bucky was watching them from his seat, almost fuming at how lovingly his best friend and y/n were acting.

Everyone knew that after rescuing her from Hydra’s hands, Steve became her rock, the person she would go to every time she needed someone to talk to, or someone to hold her. His caring, nurturing nature had easily made her trust in him, open up to him with her mind and her heart, helping her become better and helping her heal.

Everyone also knew that there was nothing more than platonic brotherly love between them both, but Bucky couldn’t help the bitter taste of jealousy he’d get in his mouth and stomach every time he saw her with Steve.

He kept telling himself that he was jealous that she was keeping his best friend from him, what with Steve spending most of his free time with her, but he knew that wasn’t really true. He just couldn’t admit it to anyone, even himself that yet.

They all sat together around the couches and chairs, talking and eating y/n’s delicious cookies, when y/n directed her gaze to Bucky and silently nudged one of the plates in his direction, asking him to have one.

He just looked at her for a brief moment, as if not believing her gesture, and then got up from his seat.

“I don’t want your stupid cookies.” Was all he said before he left the room entirely, leaving everyone on the team surprised by his words, and y/n hurt in her very core.

She didn’t know what she had done to him, but she knew that she didn’t deserve his attitude. She tried to swallow the lump that formed in her throat and averted her eyes to her lap. Steve that was sitting next to her, with his arm around her shoulders, furrowed his brows in disappointment at his best friend.

“Don’t mind him. You know how Bucky is.” He said trying to justify the man’s actions, but he knew the first thing he had to do later was go to Bucky and give him a piece of his mind. Y/n just shrugged and gave him a small smile to let her know she wasn’t hurt, but Steve knew that wasn’t true.

He knew how much Bucky would hurt y/n with his attitude towards her, he had witnessed Bucky being mean for no reason to y/n several times, but he couldn’t understand why his pal had to do so.

The atmosphere in the room shifted awkwardly after Bucky’s disappearance, but only for a few moments, because Sam was quick to crack a joke and try to restore the humor.

***

Missions are always hard, with the exception of a few here and there where they get lucky to get in, get the job done and get out without any scratches on them. This time though, luck was not on their side.

Steve, Bucky, Sam and Natasha had all been in a mission in Germany, raiding a Hydra base, while the rest of the team were doing the same in Russia, shutting down the same experiment operation that Hydra was conducting.

When they returned, they were all miserable, beaten down and tired, faces and bodies covered in blood and  scars.

Y/n had been feeling guilty for not being able to help the team anymore every since her capture, so not being one to just stand around and do nothing while her family and friends risked her life to save the world, she started to work in the medical bay, tending to their wounds every time they needed the care.

This time was no different, she was prepared for their arrival hours ago, Natasha notifying her of the situation of each member.

As soon as the jet landed in the hangar, she ran towards her friends and helped them to the med bay. They all looked like they had been through hell. And she knew it was true. Hydra was hell and she had lived in that hell herself for three months a couple of years ago.

She began with Natasha, cleaning and suturing a deep gash on her hairline, assessing to her other wounds, a knife slashing in her upper arm, a couple of bruises in her ribs. After finishing with her she went to Steve, who had a busted lip and a few broken ribs, but ever the stubborn person he was, he insisted he was okay.

“You should see Bucky. He has a bullet wound in his abdomen and I think his shoulder is dislocated.” He informed her in a hushed but quick voice.

Her eyes widened and she asked another nurse to tend to him before she went to see Bucky.

Bucky was sitting at the end of the med bay, head hanging low and the breaths he was taking were short and shallow. Because of his past trauma and everything, he didn’t let anyone take care of him except from doctor Cho, who he had learned to trust with time, but unfortunately the woman wasn’t in the States at all that day.

Now Bucky was losing blood, sitting in an uncomfortable chair, not letting anyone take care of him.

Y/n approached him with careful steps, not wanting to startle him. “Hey, Bucky.” she spoke in a soft tone that was usually directed to him.

He picked up his head to look at her but said nothing. He was paler than she had ever seen him, surely he must have lost a lot of blood.

“Will you let me look at your wounds?  Steve said you’re shot-”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence because he abruptly got up from his chair, making the way out of the med bay.

“I don’t need your help.”

His voice was hoarse and a little weak, but she could sense the animosity in his tone. Her heart broke a little from him words, but she couldn’t say anything to him. She wished things were different between them.

He took three more steps in the direction of the door and before he could leave the room, his knees gave out and he collapsed on the floor with a loud thud.

Three heads turned to the source of the noise and y/n gasped in horror when she saw Bucky fall down, but she immediately reacted and went to his side, helping him on his back and assessing to his wound.

Steve and Sam helped her get Bucky in one of the surgery tables where she had to get the bullet out and see his wound before he died of blood hemorrhage.

*

Bucky woke up feeling his head pounding. He opened his eyes with a little difficulty and first thing he saw was all white. White walls, white room, white sheets, and a person in a white coat sleeping in a chair next to his bed, her head tucked next to his thigh, two petite hands holding his metal hand in a firm grip.

When he saw who was next to him, Bucky’s heart started hammering in his chest, but he couldn’t let her be there. Despite feeling bad for having to wake her up, because she looked as if she hadn’t slept in days, he had to, before he did some stupid thing he would regret later.

He retracted his hand rather harshly from her hold and y/n startled awake, looking frantically around the room for any source of danger.

When her eyes met his she let out a sigh of relief and a small smile formed in her lips.

“You’re awake.”

“What are you doing here?” He asked in a gruffly voice, hoarse from disuse. Despite having saved his life, he still couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her.

“I’m sorry, I was just sitting in the chair and then fell asleep…” she was trying to find excuses for her presence there, but Bucky was having none of it.

He gave her what she understood to be a repulsed look and asked for Steve. The smile never leaving her lips, she nodded her head and quit the room quickly.

Despite everything he did to her, she couldn’t hate him, she couldn’t resent him. She felt too deeply for Bucky and it was killing her, but she couldn’t stop being nice to him. He deserved all the kindness in the world, no matter what.

She made a quick walk to Steve’s room and informed him about Bucky being awake. While talking to him she kept her easy smile and normal composure, but as soon as she retreated to her room, the pain came all at once, crushing her, causing her to fall down to her knees and cry her eyes out.

She sobbed and sobbed and felt the pain pierce through her chest, but she couldn’t help but still care for Bucky. All she needed to do was let out all the hurt and pain in the confines of her room and then get out, put a fake smile on her face and carry on taking care of Bucky and the rest of the team as if nothing had happened.

She had been practicing this kind of ritual for a long time, lately more often than not and she was used to it. She knew she was hurting but she couldn’t stop caring. It was her blessing and her curse.

***

The next time they were left alone together was a few months later during a week long visit in Wakanda. T'Challa had welcomed them in their palace, offering each and one of them personal chambers. It just happened that Bucky’s and y/n’s bedrooms were next to each other.

It was almost 3 am and with all the people living in the palace sleeping a peaceful quiet had embraced the atmosphere. Bucky couldn’t sleep, so he was writing in his journal his latest thoughts. Despite having gained all of his memories back and having them sorted in order, he kept writing in a journal, it helped him with his feelings, especially with the ones for y/n.

Speaking of her, he was just writing about the last time he had seen her in the compound, tired and consumed, eyes with dark circles under them and shoulders slumped, almost as she had given up in herself.

He had never seen her like that, even when he had just returned from Wakanda to become part of the Avengers, just a little after she was rescued from Hydra. Her smile, her pretty smile she always wore no matter what, was missing and Bucky couldn’t help but feel responsible and guilty for the state she was in.

He had been horrible towards her, but she never complained and despite his rudeness she kept being kind to him, treating him with extra care and tenderness, but he kept being mean to her. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world.

He was just closing his notebook to go to bed when he heard her blood curdling screams echoing through the walls. He was immediately on panic, running to her door to save her from any threat she might be facing.

Even though the king’s palace was one of the safest places on Earth, Bucky couldn’t help but fear that she was in real danger, if her screams were any indication.

He ran to her room and opened the door in a hurry, but instead of finding any threat there, he was met with her figure thrashing on the bed, kicking and yelling to the top of her lungs for help.

She was having a nightmare.

He was frozen in place, just looking at her living in a terror, before he reacted and without a second thought went to her bed to wake her up.

As he got closer he noticed there were tears in her eyes, and his heart broke for the innocent girl suffering. Bucky was very familiar to the nightmares and he knew that she must have them too, after the pain and torture she went through, but he had never heard her, their rooms in the compound being in different floors.

Without losing any more seconds he closed the distance with her and wrapped his arms around her, one hand getting the hair out of her face, patting them securely behind her ears. She was still screaming in his arms.

“Y/n wake up sweetheart.” He began talking in a sweet soothing voice. “Come on, wake up, it’s okay, it’s just a dream.” He continued speaking to her and caressing her cheeks with his fingertips.

She woke up startled, her eyes opening in shock and pushing at him to let her go.

“No, let me go!” She yelled but she only tightened his hold around her shoulders and kept on whispering to her ears.

“It’s me y/n, it’s Bucky. You’re safe now. It’s okay.”

Soon enough she calmed down and let her weight down in his arms, shoulders slumping forward and arms clinging to him for dear life.

“Bucky..” she muttered in a breathless voice and began to cry with loud sobs.

His heart was breaking seeing her like this, so he kept rocking her back and forth in his arms, trying to soothe her.

“It’s okay. It’s over now. You’re here, you’re safe.” He kept talking to her while his hands were rubbing up and down her back, helping with her calming down.

Eventually her breathing evened and she was quiet in his arms, but her hands hadn’t loosen their grip on his shirt at all. He kept hugging her and rocking her and whispering sweet nothings in her ears and he wasn’t planning on moving if it wasn’t for y/n who a few minutes after having calmed down went stiff in his arms and retreated her body from his.

“I’m sorry you had to come and wake me up.”

Her voice was small and hoarse from all the screaming, but Bucky heard it loud and clearly.

“I’m sorry you have nightmares.” He replied to her. She looked up to his eyes in surprise, not having expected him to say that.

Of course even having him there was a surprise in itself, but she guessed he just had to come and wake her up because her screaming was disturbing his sleep.

She shook her head.

“It’s not your fault.”

“But it is. I made your days a real nightmare too. I’m sorry y/n.”

He wiped the tears out of her cheeks and then took one of her hands in his and started playing mindlessly with her fingers.

“Buck..”

“Yeah?” His eyes met her in a hopeful glance, he didn’t know what she was about to say next, but he wanted to be there for her now, he didn’t want to leave her side.

“Why do you hate me?” Her seemingly nonchalant question made him shudder. He didn’t hate her. Of course he didn’t. But the way he acted towards her said otherwise.

He locked eyes with her for a moment and slowly started closing the distance between them.

“I don’t.” He answered simply and his lips met hers in a short and hesitant kiss.

At first she didn’t react to his lips on hers, but then she returned his kiss, just as timid as him, for a quick second and then she was the first to end it.

“I’m sorry. I should better go.” He said in a hurried voice, clearly embarrassed. He got up from the bed and made to leave the room, but her next words stopped him right in his tracks.

“Please don’t.”

It was barely a whisper and  if he didn’t have super soldier hearing he would probably miss it. But he heard her, and his head whipped around to see her already looking at him expectantly.

He turned back and sat on her bed again, and she nearly crawled to get close to him and curled to his chest, trying to protect herself from the outside world in his embrace.

Bucky circled his arms around her shoulders and moved them to a laying position, to be more comfortable.

“I’m sorry for everything, doll. I know I hurt you and I have no excuse for being such a jerk to you. I don’t deserve your tenderness and kindness, but you always go out of your way to make me feel better and for that I’m eternally grateful. I’m so sorry for causing you pain and hurting you when you didn’t deserve it at all.”

She just hugged him tighter and sighed in relief.

“It’s okay Buck. Everything is okay.”

That night they fell asleep in each other’s arms and it was the very first night of the best sleeps of their lives. In the morning they would talk it all out.

[lilgurlwithcomplicatedfeels]

Emotions pt 2

This is the extension of when my sister moved out. We had a small group of friends who lived nearby, and we would visit them occasionally. Lets call these people "Family B" So we'd visit them every once in a while, and my sister would always chat with family B and very often go and sleepover with them. Remember, she was still struggling with depression. One day, my mom goes out with our grandma in london. She desperately needed a break, and little did I know. My sister had decided to go to a party against my mom's wishes. This party had boys, and possible drugs and drinks. This was after prom, my sister wasnt even graduated yet. My mom gets angry and texts my sister to go back home, and I'm at home with no idea what happened. The next morning my sister lets in Family B, and for some reason Family B decides to take us. My mother was terrified of what was happening, and was so mentally unstable at that moment. Family B said they weren't giving either me or my sister back. At the time I was 16, but I'd lived a sheltered life so I had no idea what exactly was happening. My sister was 18. Nearly graduating. I had no idea what was happening and just treated this trip as a sleepover, no idea why this was happening. While I was there at Family B's house with my sister, I started to get sick. I threw up and they were trying to give me medication that I'd never had before. I rejected their offer after trying one of their things. I just rested on the balcony, feeling pale as all hell. Exausted and very unwell, at the time I didn't know any of my choices. All I knew was "stay." While that was happening, my sister didn't even help me. She just patted my back in an uncomfortable way, in which I told her to just not to touch me. Then Family B told my sister and I that we'd have to go back. Or at least I would. I vollunteered to go back, telling my sister that she can stay. Her reaction to possibly going back was filled with anxiety and such. I packed my things again, feeling weaker than before. Pulling my backpack upstairs. I see my dad and something lifts me up, suddenly I feel like I have the energy to carry my bag properly. I had no idea what happened there, but i realized. I was supposed to be with my parents, not Family B. I put my bag into the car and sit in the back, noticing my mom in the front. Then she turns around, I'm shocked by the sheer amount of tears on her face. My steeled emotions turned to putty as I realized she wasnt even mad, she was just terrified. We spend most of the time home for a bit, and I'm mostly getting better with her. We talk alot while my sister is gone, and we realize we barely knew anything about each other. I keep going to school and keep feeling heart wrenched while seeing her on the bus. She cries, I cry. But the more I think about it, I did miss her. But the thing I hated was the fact that she took so much time away from me and my mom. She wanted all the attention and energy from my mom when she had none. Me on the other hand was happy with anything, I'd always be happy with even the smallest thing. Like candy bars or a card. I was easily satisfied, and that made it easier on my mom and dad. After my sister graduated, I spent most of my time with my mom. Chatting with her, and seeing her grow. The longer my sister was gone for, the more my mom grew into learning about trauma and how to handle it. She sometimes consulted me about the teachings she was recieving, and I would be able to explain the methods and how to go through with some of them. But most of all I was learning more about her, at that time she loved cooking. Then it turned to resolving trauma, and we looked towards therapy for my mom and sister. While Me, in the middle. I dealt with the frustration of seeing my sister just act like she's being judged too harshly. I just most of all communicated that I was the one watching most of the time, and the stupidest thing came out of my sister's mouth at that time. "You're not the watcher anymore, I wont let you be in the middle." HAH! I'm your sister and Mom's

kid. I will always be in the middle. Then she proceeded to get upset at mom for communicating with me. From which I responded with a small cry, "i want to know". Then she says I dont need to know. But I'd been shut down and left behind in the closet of living a sheltered life. I was much too sheltered and this was both my mom and sister's fault. But now my mom was revealing the truths to me, and I started to see more about reality. Its not easy at all, you have to make sure you get shit done or else you get evicted. You have to make sure you do things or else you'll not recieve legal money from the gov't. The more I talked with my mom and learned about what my sister said about me, the more I felt hurt. Yeah its fine if you told me face to face, but you said that to mom. Pushing her away from me as I moved along all alone with no one to confide to about my own familial issues. When she moved out. I don't know what exactly was going through my head, but I was suddenly completely against my sister coming back. I was paying for the place myself now, and I didnt want it anymore. As in I didn't want the tense feeling that my sister made whenever they came over. Of course, my sister just blamed it on my mom. Saying it's her who is making the air tense. But to be honest, both me and my mom just couldn't handle my sister being back. So the best thing for me and my mom, instinctually I knew. We had to cut her out of our lives. But my mom still held out hope that they would come back. Back to normal, but the more she tried. The more my sister just deteriorated. Now its just me and my mom, safe from anything my sister says now. My mom is finally telling my grandma to stop supporting my sister so she gets a taste of real life. So she understands how hard it is to live by themselves. Honestly they'll always be babied until they actually live on their own, without talking to any people. Just chores and saving money so they wouldn't have to worry about medical bills. But of course, ordering out is more important. Going to starbucks is more important, going to abandoned buildings is more important. Her friends were always more important. This is my goodbye. I refuse to help you in any way because you refused to help mom when she asked. When you came around, you'd lay around and let skittles(her service dog) Bark and affect Sully(mom's service dog) to bark as well. When skittles isnt around sully is perfect. He behaves and doesnt bark at all. Theres so much more I want to write but I'm scared to move forwards to those words, I myself am not ready to say the words left over in my head. So. Good bye, and have a nice life. I still love you but stay the hell away from me and my family.

[allthebest20]

Butter Honey Pig Bread by Francesca Ekwuyasi

8/10.  A joy to read and a great debut novel. I think the author has even better work ahead of her.  The characters are complex and unique, and the book explores modernity, pain, and generational spirituality in a very readable style.  I couldn’t help but make assumptions about the author as I read the book: definitely Nigerian, definitely a cook, definitely spent time in London and Canada, definitely queer, definitely raised in the Church, but also definitely spiritual.  The authenticity with which she writes, especially in regards to being queer in the modern world and the cultures of different places, is what makes this book great.  The story dances between the gruesome details of reality in the twenty-first century and romanticized views of youth and love. It raises a lot of questions in me about the international class system, wealth, and privilege.  

The only real complaint that I have is around one of the main plot points: the rape of Kehinde when she is 12.  While this is a turning point in all their lives, I feel as though it is also simultaneously underappreciated, as if the author choose this event simply because it was one of the worst things she could think of.  I think this is a common pit fall for authors.  A lot of traumatic things happen to this family: Kambi, the mother, is very mental ill, Banji, the twin’s beloved father, is murdered, Taiye, the queer twin, struggles with her own mental health.  Yet, the rape is regarded as the primary Bad Thing and all the other traumatic events are hardly discussed.  I appreciate how the author takes some time, maybe 1 chapter, to discuss Kehinde’s relationship to sex and her body.  Yet, Kehinde’s life seems to be mostly unaffected by this event, except in the way she punishes her family with her silence.  She is in a healthy relationship.  She does not abuse alcohol or drugs.  She has a successful career.  Ultimately, it’s not a book about overcoming childhood sexual abuse.  It’s a book about mending a family after years of pain, resentment, distance, and silence.  I almost feel as though the book could have been stronger if it focused more on the effects of Banji’s death and Kambi’s violence and depression on the twins.  Ultimately, though, sexual abuse is just a thing that happens to a lot of kids, and perhaps it serves a purpose to write a book where it happens, it’s horrible, but it doesn’t need to be put under a magnifying glass.  It just reverberates.

This book could have been about a lot of things.  When I picked it off the shelf at the library, I barely read the entire description, immediately caught by the spiritual nature of Kambi’s being and the brief mention of “reckless hedonism.”  I was pleasantly surprised to find out that Taiye was a lesbian, and I saw a lot of myself in her: the serial string of intense relationships, always slated to go nowhere, the indulgence in food and weed and dancing and occasionally other drugs, the loneliness and missing family but not being able to connect with them, the exploration of religion and spirituality and non-monogamy, seeing and feeling things you don’t know are real.  I feel like a lot of modern young adults live like Taiye does, unsure what to look for except comfort.  I love how the author mentioned the chaotic draw of dating apps.  I love how Taiye is a stoner.  I love how Taiye loves organic butter and fair trade chocolate and cooking extravagant meals for anyone who will eat it.  I LOVE how the author includes recipes for what Taiye is cooking.  Although I probably won’t use those recipes, I did want to cook what Taiye was cooking, and it reads just like my brain reads when I am absorbed in a culinary project.  This book could have been more about what it means to be a lesbian, but it only barely describes her formative romantic and sexual experiences.  The author details the first time Taiye calls her self gay out loud and has queer sex, but this is long after she has had gay feelings and gay experiences.  The author does not explore Taiye’s inner turmoil, and it is unclear if Taiye struggles at all with her sexuality in the long term.

I also like how the book explores mental illness.  It doesn’t shy away from both the good and the bad parts.  It doesn’t shame medication use.  It explores the spiritual powers of those who’s brains work differently.  Kambi’s voice explores suicide in an interesting way: both from the frequent pull of the voices, asking Kambi to escape the pain of living, and Kambi’s own knowledge that she wants to remain here with her family.  Although I have perhaps 0 hard examples of mental illness being spiritual, I still want to believe that those who hear voices, who see things, who feel things, are connected to the spiritual in a way that those who live entirely in reality are not.  This book explores one such case.  I also found it interesting how Taiye inherits some of Kambi’s crazy (struggles to speak as a young child, depressed, sleep walks) and some of Kambi’s magic (draws people to her, sees and hears beyond).  This make Taiye feel closer to her mom as she ages, while Kehinde remains unsure.  This book could have been more about generational mental illness and the pain and distance it causes, but instead the author focuses on the magic of it all.  It asks, quietly, if the girls should be mad at their mother, can they be mad at her?  From the outside, Kehinde knows that Kambi is respoinsible for the scar on Taiye’s face, but yet we, the audience, know that Kambi had to do this to prevent Taiye from killing the rapist, Uncle Earnest.  Does Kehinde know this?  How can she understand?  In a family, we have no choice but to forgive and let live if we cannot understand, or else remain alienated.  This is the underlying message of the book.

The book has a complicated timeline: the main story line follows the events of a six month period in which the three main characters are united again in Lagos, after over a decade apart.  Slowly, in tangents, the three characters’ backstory is explained.

The book features a few key locations:

Nigeria (specifically Abeokuta, where Kambirinachi is born, Ife, where she spends her youth, and Lagos, where she raises her family),

London (where the twins were born and where Taiye lived for 9 years during and after university),

and Canada (Kehinde lives in Montreal since attending university there and Taiye lives in Halifax after London). 

I’ve never been to Nigeria or London, but I love the way the author writes the dialogue and the characters from each place.  I cannot say if they are accurate, but they have a clear and unique voice, not homogeneous but also representative of those place-based qualities that unite an area.  The characters give me a glimpse into what it feels like to be Nigerian abroad vs. Nigerian at home.  She rarely writes about interpersonal incidents of racism: the characters are mostly well liked, treated nicely by the people in their life, given opportunities.  I think that contributes to the feeling of romanticism in the story.  Racism is discussed on a more systematic level: they have problems at the airport, Taiye learns about the history of racism in Canada. As someone who has been to Canada, knows about the history of Canada, and lives very close to Canada, I enjoyed hearing about Taiye learning about Canada’s dark side, something that is so rarely discussed by the general public.  However, for those of us who are interested, the evidence is everywhere.  The history is just waiting to be explored by anyone who is interested in looking just slightly beyond the state-issued textbooks.  I thought the way the author wrote about Canada was really authentic, which convinces me that the way she writes about London and Nigeria must also be accurate.  What it must be like to be Ekwuyasi, so intimately familiar with places so far apart.

There was one line in the book that really stuck with me: as Taiye is traveling home, she passes through the busy streets of Lagos, crowded with street children, and she is reminded of her privilege in a very visual way, something she doesn’t get in Canada or London.  This is the view the West wants us to have of Africa: a whole continent made of dirty huts and begging children on busy urban roads.  Yes, poverty looks different in Nigeria than it does in Canada, but that doesn’t mean that everyone in Nigeria is somehow poorer.  In fact, this family has a beautiful compound and a trust fund.  Despite having a trust fund, Taiye still makes decisions on a strict budget and denies herself luxuries to save money, the way I do.  I don’t really know a lot of people with trust funds, so I can’t tell if this is an international thing or if there are American kids who act like this.  It kind of annoyed me when Taiye wrote to the culinary program saying she didn’t have enough to pay for the program, when in reality she just didn’t want to dip into her trust fund.  I don’t know if there were limited spots/funds available for people who couldn’t afford to pay full price, but I hate when rich people forget what it means to actually not have money.  Being cheap and being poor are two different things, often way more opposing than people think.  Rich people are often the ones who know how to exploit the system to get what they want for less, while the poor are left with less connections and less time to work it.

Still, I refrain from delivering too harsh judgement on Taiye. I do not know the size of the trust fund.  I know their family home was a gift, so perhaps the fund is to be saved for medical emergencies and property taxes.  I’m not sure how insurance or taxes work in Nigeria, although I know the government is very unstable.  How did they pay for international university?  Did that come from the trust fund?  The whole plot line has me thinking a lot about wealth and class on  an international level.  While I grew up comfortably, I often felt like my family was poor because of how rich everyone in our town was.  I wonder what it would have been like to grow up in a compound and see homeless children often, but also ingest international media that cast your entire country as poor and to know your government is unstable.

All in all, the book touches on many of the central issues of modern life  While it only brushes the surfaces of these topics, it had me thinking for days and wanting to know more.  Perhaps I will search out an some Nigerian autobiographies / memoirs in the future.

[reddieorrnot]

Eddie tries Richie’s clothes on as a joke but Richie loves it

aww this ones cute, thanks anon :) hope you enjoy!

“The ‘rents said you could sleep over”

Eddie smiled into the telephone, feeling a little stupid realizing no one could see him. Then again, it was better than Richie actually seeing the plastered grin on Eddie’s face. Eddie had had a stressful week at school, studying for hard tests and track meets nearly every day at school, it was a Friday afternoon and he needed to spend his night in an enjoyable way. For most teenagers, that would have meant a party or sneaking into a bar with a fake ID, not for Eddie. His idea of relaxing and having fun at the same time simply consisted of hanging out at the Tozier household. There, he knew he would find comfort in Mr. Tozier’s jokes and Mrs. Tozier’s unmatchable affection. Lastly, he knew he would also spend time with Richie Tozier, his favorite person. He’d never admit that last part out loud though. There were a lot of things involving Richie in Eddie’s mind that he wouldn't say out loud. Things that had been boiling up for a while now. 

“Oh cool, I’ll get packing then.” Eddie replied looking around his room, already mentally picturing what to wear and bring. 

“While you’re lying to your mother’s beautiful face about how you’ll be at Billy boy’s house instead of mine, give her a big fat kiss for me,” a light laugh came from Richie's side of the call. Unfortunately, all that got out of Eddie was an eye roll. 

“I think I speak for all women when I say she’d decline the kiss. Anyways, I’ll be over in like an hour.”

“All women huh? You saying I could still get a nice o’ smacking on the lips from you, cutie?” 

“That’s my cue to hang up.”

“Wait-”

Eddie put the phone down, ending the call and letting out a small chuckle. He knew Richie’s comments were just for fun and jokes, but sometimes Eddie couldn’t help but picture the things he said. 

What if he could kiss Richie what if Richie wanted that too? Pushing those thoughts aside, Eddie turned his back on the phone and looked around his room, trying to decide what to change into, as he had been lounging in the same clothes he had worn to school that day. Walking over to his closet, he picked out something simple enough to look decent around Richie’s family. No effort was rude, always. Picking up a white t-shirt and some light jeans, he made his way over to the bathroom, grabbing his towel additionally on the way out. Even if Eddie had done an hour of track after school today, he would have still needed to wash up before heading out to Richie’s. Sure, he could shower at the Tozier’s, but there’s something about using one’s own bathroom that doesn’t match any others. Eddie found it funny that here he was, looking at himself in his bathroom mirror before hopping in the shower, and Richie was probably just getting high at this exact moment to some loud band. 

After a quick wash, the curly headed boy decided to remain as just that. Instead of blowing drying his hair, he would just let it air dry, meaning his curls would be wild and free for the night. His mother hated when he didn’t keep his hair straight and neat, but she wasn’t going to home until far later than when Eddie would leave. She had loosened up over the years. But it wasn’t a type of loosened up where she understood that Eddie was growing and deserved some more freedom. It was the type that indicated she had just stopped caring. She spoke to herself a lot, mostly only acknowledged Eddie to yell at him about chores in the house and getting his meds. To be honest, Eddie believed that his mother's head had become so clouded by all the food she ate and how much television she watched every day, that there wasn’t much space to comprehend anything else. 

He grabbed a duffel bag and first stuffed it with some things from his bathroom. Those things including his toothbrush, his mouthwash, and basically just a sweep of his hand pushing all the medication in his cabinet into the bag. Deep down, he knew all the pills his mother had given him growing up didn’t actually do anything. But for some reason, he felt weird without taking the placebos. Mike once told him that it could be linked to anxiety, and just feeling more normal when Eddie did something he grew up used to doing. Eddie just accepted it though, not trying to fight the urge to bring his inhaler everywhere or these pills when he spent the night somewhere. Most of his friends understood where he was coming from. Richie though, always rolled his eyes when Eddie brought his bag full of meds. 

Eddie kind of liked that though, he enjoyed it when Richie would say, “You don’t need that bullshit.”

It made Eddie feel strong. 

Suddenly there was a knock downstairs at the front door, catching Eddie off guard. He clutched his duffel bag’s strap in confusion, keeping it on his shoulder. Eddie walked down the stairs wondering if it could be his mother, but that didn’t make any sense. Why would she knock? She had also told him multiple times she’d be out late. Peeking through the peephole, Eddie let out a relief sigh, but then was filled with confusion once more. He opened the door with scrunched eyebrows. 

“Why?”

Richie stood in front of him with a smile from ear to ear, “I came to pick you up! Couldn’t wait a whole hour to see you, my Eds.”

“Don’t call me-” Eddie was interrupted as Richie took the duffel bag from his grasp.

“Come on, let’s just go! Maggie was making some food when I left, and it smelled good.”

Eddie shrugged, “Alright, let me just leave my mom a note. How’d you know she wasn’t here, anyways? Could’ve risked her seeing you.”

Eddie spun on his heel and retracted to the kitchen to grab a pen and paper. Writing his mother a short note that he had a project to do with Bill and would just be spending the night there. There was little chance she would actually even read the note, but there was also a little chance she would even notice Eddie was gone. 

“I lied, I came FOR your mom, like I do every night, and wanted to show you that she’d never deny a kiss from this hunk,” Richie expressed as he flexed his bicep, or as much of a bicep he had, “Was quite a disappointment when I noticed her car wasn’t outside, but then I realized I could always just take you home tonight instead.” 

Now that it was something said in person, Eddie couldn’t hide his pink cheeks behind a telephone. He always got a bit red when Richie made jokes about his best friend, if Richie noticed, he never said anything. 

“Shut it, fucker. I’m hungry and want your mom’s food.”

Letting out a loud laugh, the taller boy draped his arm around Eddie. Fortunately, Eddie didn’t move away, he let the arm engulf him and grabbed the spare house key to lock the door behind him as they walked out. Richie rambled about his day,, talking of his horrible math teacher and the way today’s cafeteria lunch sucked horribly. 

As they got into Richie’s car, Eddie let out a soft laugh. “You wouldn’t have to eat the cafeteria food if you actually remember to pack a lunch sometimes.”

Starting the car, Richie slightly nodded, “I guess, but for some reason I feel like eating that trash-” 

“You are what you eat!”

“Sure, funny, now shut up,” Richie continued through Eddie’s fit of giggles, “I feel like eating that junk builds character in a way. Like how trauma makes people funny, that’’s why our friend group is so fucking funny.”

Eddie just looked out the window, watching the houses pass, “I guess so, you still could just bring lunch from home.”

Richie didn’t say anything to that, and instead turned on the radio and just drove. Eddie liked driving with Richie, it made him feel calm. Doing anything with Richie made Eddie feel some sort of underlying emotions of calmness. Even if Richie was batshit crazy sometimes, and liked to smoke cigarettes on top of buildings after midnight. Even when Eddie followed him and scraped his knee climbing the ladder to the roof of a store, he felt calm. Maybe not as calm as he did right now, but in his heart he felt calm. Richie just sort of felt like home. 

They were both silent until Richie’s house, but it was nice. 

“We have arrived at your castle, my majesty.” Richie broke the silence as they pulled into his driveway. 

“Majesty? Finally decided to show me the credit I deserve, I see.” Eddie told him as he opened his car door and got out. Instinctively reaching for his bag, he realized Richie had already grabbed it from the back. Feeling thankful for the action, he just gave the dork a smile when Richie walked around the car to face Eddie, duffel bag in hand. As they walked up to the front door, Richie just pushed it open without having to unlock it.

Not everyone thinks the door constantly needs to be locked no matter what, Eddie thought to himself. 

“Eddie! Is that you?” A sweet woman's voice rang through the house.

“Thanks mom! Glad to see you too!” Richie replied first, obviously joking but making sure to chime in annoyance in his tone. 

Maggie appeared in the living room from the kitchen, looking as beautiful as she always did. Richie’s genes didn’t just come from his father. Maggie looked 10 years younger than her age, bright eyes and perfect smile catching anyone's attention. She was tall and lean, yet still had a warm feeling to her aura no matter who she spoke to. The jet black hair that usually cascaded down her back was in a bun, seemingly to be out of the way as she cooked. 

“Oh Richard, you know I love you. My favorite friend of yours is here though, let me give him some attention.” Eddie felt bashful as he was pulled into a hug by the women who had always treated him more like a son then the one he came home to every day. Her hugs were like heaven. 

“I’m gonna take your bag upstairs, Eds.”

Eddie didn’t have the energy to correct Richie, who was already going up the stairs to his room. Instead, he followed Maggie into the kitchen as she asked about his day and he did the same. Turns out, she had been making cherry pie. The smell made Eddie’s stomach ache as he remembered he hadn’t eaten anything since lunch at school. Maggie must have heard his stomach’s growl since she chuckled and started taking out two plates. 

“Oh gee mom, so when Eddie isn’t here yet I can’t have a slice but when he arrives we can feast? Seems a bit unfair to me.” Richie’s presence was made known as he stepped into the kitchen, eyes locked on the pie. 

“Pie is always better when you enjoy it with those you love!” Maggie claimed as she turned to cut two pieces for the boys. Neither of them noticed how their eyes widened in the exact same ways. “Here you two are, have them at the table and be careful, cherry stains.”

Richie and Eddie both nodded and moved to the dining table. Taking their seats, Eddie marveled at Maggie’s baking. While he did that, Richie wasted no time taking the first bite. 

“Mom!’ Richie said with a full mouth, “My taste buds thank you!”

The visible food in Richie’s mouth and the loud smacking of his chews made the other boy cringe as he took a fork of the pie. Maggie laughed in reply and her footsteps up the stairs were identifiable, along with the shutting of her room door. It tasted better than any desert Eddie had ever tried before. Not that his mom let him eat many sugary things, so basically it was the best desert Maggie had ever fed him. Overwhelmed with excitement to grab another bite, Eddie didn’t pay enough attention to how much of a hold his fork had actually gotten on the next piece. As said fork was brought to Eddie’s mouth, the piece of pie fell off, trailing down Eddie’s white shirt. 

“Fuck,” Eddie let out, remembering the cherries did, in fact, leave stains. 

“Uh oh, is it your chest’s time of month?” 

“Real funny, dumbass. I gotta change out of this and see if running it under water helps at all.”

Getting up, Eddie quickly left the dining table, quick enough to miss Richie sighing and kissing a piece of pie on his fork. “I’ll be back soon, my love, must go help my other love with a crisis.”

They made their way up the stairs and Eddie headed to Richie’s room, knowing he had an attached bathroom there. Eddie wasn’t really thinking of anything besides cleaning his shirt, so the second Richie passed him when entering the room, Eddie closed the door behind him and went to take his shirt off. 

“Alright, so you can just lean and put that bad boy under the sink and-” Richie stopped in his tracks when he faced Eddie, who was now shirtless with the stained garment in his hands. 

“What?” Eddie’s face flushed in embarrassment, realizing he was now essentially half naked in front of a guy he’d liked for years. Of course, this wasn’t unusual, but the timing felt weird. They weren’t swimming or just relaxing on a hot day. Eddie was just shirtless in Richie’s room, not to mention without warning after shutting Richie’s door. Still, Eddie’s first thought was to defend himself. “You got some joke to make?” He angrily said. 

Richie just stood there for a second, staring. Finally he choked out, “No! No… You uh, you looked toned. Very nice. I mean you look very nice.” 

Raising an eyebrow and putting a hand on his hip, Eddie questioned, “No joke?” 

“No joke.”

“Oh, well… Thank you. Guess I’ve been losing weight from track and then building muscle.” Eddie noticed Richie’s unbreakable stare, wondering if this is what always happened when Eddie was shirtless. Had he just never noticed? What else didn’t he notice? Without saying anything, Eddie proceeded to the bathroom, leaving Richie stuck in his trance. He turned the water on, not sure whether to make it cold or hot, but he wasn’t even sure if this would help anything. He tried rubbing the fabric together, just letting it soak, and even applying some hand wash. But nothing helped. Accepting defeat, Eddie turned off the water and walked back into Richie’s room.

“Where’s my bag? Can you toss me a shirt I packed?”

Richie nodded and walked to his closet, pulling out Eddie’s duffel bag and searching through it. “Hey… Eds? Only your meds are in here.”

Rubbing his hand over his eyes n frustration, Eddie wanted to call Richie stupid for a second, wondering how that was possible. But quickly he remembered how he never did grab any clothes, and had just opened the door for Richie after stocking his bag with pills and left. Richie looked at Eddie, waiting for a response. At first, Eddie could just sigh. It wasn’t that big of a deal ,but he had a bad week, this was supposed to be relaxing.

“I never grabbed any clothes. You knocked at the door while I was grabbing the pills and my inhaler and took my bag. I didn’t realize that was all i had, should’ve noticed at some point the weight was unreasonable.”

“Is it my fault?” Richie pouted, genuinely apologetic.

Tilting his head to the side, Eddie felt bad. “No ‘Chee, it isn’t your fault. Just a dumb mistake on my part, I can just borrow some clothes from you, right?” Eddie joked with a laugh to lighten the mood. Without needing an answer, Eddie kept the joke going by walking to Richie’s closet. He knew this was bound to make the taller boy smile, something that would also make Eddie happy. Eddie looked for a second, then grabbed some band t-shirt he didn’t know of. The shirt was black and brown, with the band’s name written across. It must have been new, because Eddie hadn’t seen this shirt worn a lot. He knew Richie wouldn’t mind though, and as Eddie slipped it on, he took note of how soft the fabric was. It was also very over sized, seen as Richie was a tall guy. 

Eddie smiled as he walked out of the closet (and made a mental joke to himself) to look at Richie. Expecting a grin or some sort of joke about Eddie being so tiny, instead he was once more greeted by Richie’s staring.

“You okay?” Eddie asked, concerned at the amount of attention he was getting, short on or off.

“You’re so beautiful.” 

Now it was Eddie’s turn to be speechless. He was taken aback and didn’t know what to say. What his brain wanted to say, was that Richie had it all wrong. That Richie was the gorgeous one. Richie and his black hair that just was perfectly messy, his smile that could melt anyone's heart, his sharp jawline, the way he spoke with his hands. Especially his laugh, it was like someone playing a harp to Eddie’s ears. That’s what Eddie wanted to say. Sadly, he didn’t have the courage to.

“Not really.” 

“Shut up.” 

 Instead, Eddie mustered up all the courage he did have, and walked to Richie, wrapping him in an embrace. 

“Thank you.” He mumbled into Richie’s chest. 

Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie, letting out a breath. They stood like that for a while before Eddie finally pulled away.

“You have the right to wear any of my clothes, literally. Take it all. Leaving me butt naked is worth seeing you wear my shit. It’s like sexy in a domestic kinda way.” Richie said scratching his chin in thought. 

“You’re too much Tozier, get your head out of your ass,” Eddie laughed out loudly, secretly wishing he could tell if Richie was serious or not.

Guess he’d find out at some point.

[untilmynextstory]

Chapter 5: Widening Gyre

Word Count: 8K

There are just some things no one can prepare you for. There are things Alma knows she will never recover from. She had already buried one child. She doesn't know if her own heart could even manage to bury her second child.

Her precious baby girl was no longer here. Despite all the doctor visits, the medication, and vigilant watch over her baby girl's heart, it wasn't enough. Her baby girl was only five years old. She had a future. She had a life in front of her.

Alma didn't even know how she was going to be able to grieve. She didn't know what the grieving process meant for her along with her family. She had to comfort her son. She didn't know how to do that, but she tried by letting him cry in her arms. Holding him tight in her arms as she put him to bed holding one of Kaylee's favorite stuffed animals.

She knew it was going to be a slow process in healing, but when she thought of her husband, she wasn't sure if there was anything she could do.

Words have barely been exchanged between the two. She was surprised they were able to even pull it together to even have a funeral.

Jax has spent the past couple weeks locked inside of Kaylee's room with weed and alcohol as therapy. He just drinks and smokes. He keeps himself in that room and doesn't leave. He only removes himself off the floor to piss and maybe head into the kitchen for something to stomach. Although his meager meals do nothing to absorb the alcohol he is poisoning himself with.

Alma isn't sure what would be the best method to approach. She isn't sure if she even wants to. She knows she is not strong enough to shoulder his grief along with hers. She already went through Ben's death alone, she had come to terms she would have to navigate the stages of grief for Kaylee alone.

She has made a schedule for herself. She gets up, showers, and tends to every single one of Nathan's needs. It's the best she can do. Worse, her baby boy had turned 7 and he had denied wanting even a cake for his birthday. She stopped looking at her phone. She unplugged the landline and stopped answering the door. She can't deal with the pity or other's nosiness.

Alma lingers at Kaylee's bedroom. She only meant to take a peek at the cold room. Everything has been left untouched since her passing. She finds her husband sitting up against the dresser as he looks ahead of him in a daze. He slowly brings a blunt to his lips. He inhales and exhales. She wants to scream at him that he is only tainting their daughter's room. They will no longer be able to smell the chamomile with a tinge of lavender that settles in the room due to Kaylee's favorite body wash products.

She bites her tongue. She doesn't want to start an argument. She doesn't want to say things in anger that neither will be able to take back. The only reason she moves from the door is because the alarm signals that someone has opened the front door.

Alma moves down the hallway and finds her mom stepping through the door with grocery bags.

Ann has been staying in Charming since Kaylee's passing. She is not exactly sure where her mother is staying, but she is grateful that her mom isn't inserting herself in the house. However, Alma has a feeling her mom is at her wits end from the radio silence. After all, despite how much Alma wants to curl in bed and shut out the world, she has Nathan to think about. He still needs at least one of his parents.

Her mom looks up at her with a grim smile. "I brought you guys some food."

Alma nods as she meets her the rest of the way. Alma notices her mom has forgone the expensive jewelry and makeup. Her face is bare and she is in a simple suede pink sweatsuit. A pair of white Adidas adore her feet.

Alma is silent as she puts away the phone. She knows her mom is surprised that the house isn't a mess. Or the downstairs isn't at least. In grief, every member of the house has been confined into a bedroom. Alma spends most of her time with Nathan in his room while Jax is in Kaylee's.

"Maybe you guys should come North with me. Get out of Charming for a bit." Ann hesitantly suggests.

"It's not going to change anything." Alma replies. Kaylee would still be gone when they returned. Her baby girl would still be dead.

"Tell me how I can help you, baby," her mother pleads.

"I don't think you can. Not with this." Alma tells her. She doesn't even know how to pick up the pieces for some type of living.

"You need to talk to someone. Losing Ben and now Kaylee…" her mother trails off before approaching her like a wounded animal. Her mom's hands cup her cheeks forcing her to look at her. "You can't be Wonder Woman all the time. You need a break. You can't forget yourself in all this." Her mom steps back and gives her some space. "I'll stay for a bit. Cook, clean up whatever. Just take a nap. Soak in the tub."

Alma inhales deeply and blows the hot air out. "Okay. Thanks, mom."

.

.

.

Ann waited until she heard the tub began draining and about 30 minutes after the master bedroom door shut before she went to complete her mission.

She had begun cleaning up the little dust that accumulated in the past week downstairs. She checked on Nathan, who had just woken up from a nap, fed him a sandwich with some chips, before he told her that he just wanted to draw in his room. Ann pressed a kiss to her grandson's head and let him be.

It was clear her grandson was trying to be strong. She admired her grandson, her only grandchild still living. That hurts. Knowing that she has outlived two children who didn't even make it past the age of 5.

She can't imagine the pain her daughter is feeling. She doesn't even know how to help her daughter cope with this loss. She can barely linger on that grief before it makes her breakdown. Right now, she can't do that. She needs to shoulder some of this pain for her daughter as her worthless son in law isn't doing shit.

She had walked past Kaylee's room and was hit with the smell of weed. She risked a glance inside and any grief was quickly replaced with anger.

She could understand his anger with Ben. He was not here to help or to be there to grieve with his family. Ann knows that grief can make people selfish, but she expected better of the man her daughter married. Yet, she doesn't know how she could forget how selfish these men were. She experienced the club's selfishness first hand.

So she had waited. She wanted her daughter to be asleep before she took matters in her own hands. It wasn't as if she went out of her way to purposely antagonize Jax. It was just she wasn't going to blindly stand on the sidelines and watch him treat her daughter with disrespect. She didn't want Alma to go through what she went through with Chico. It is a shame that Ann could overlook the ways that the men made money. After all, it had her and Alma living comfortably. Yet, the women and the control issues Chico had...Ann couldn't suffer through the emotional and mental abuse anymore.

For a time, she thought she could overlook the other women. She did, but Chico could never be quiet about it. He constantly threw it in her face he would be with croweaters in Charming, not just on runs. The worst betrayal was only finding out that Chico only tolerated her because of Alma. She was simply a good lay at the time. A consistent lay that got pregnant. In this world, she was shown how disposable women are to these men. She just couldn't understand how everyone was pissed at her for wanting to divorce Chico when he had been embarrassing her for years.

Maybe it is wrong of her to project those feelings onto Jax. However, it had been an open secret he was fucking around on her daughter when he got released. He did it right in front of her. Ann knows that the reason her daughter was staying was for the kids and the unfortunate circumstance of Jax being the one to provide financial security. She was only able not to get some more independence due to Luann, but unfortunately that was ripped away before it could fully develop.

Ann steps into the room where her son in law is shirtless and glad in some basketball shorts. The room smells like a distrilley and a hide out for skunks.

"Un-fucking-believable." Ann mutters as she steps forward. She stands in his line of step and he doesn't even blink, but stares blankly. "Get up."

He doesn't move or even flinch.

She bends down to look him directly in the eye. "Get the fuck up. You smell like shit and you're tainting your daughter's room with this shit."

"Fuck you." He whispers hoarsely.

"Get up," she sneers in disgust and his reflexes are too slow as she grabs the bottle of Jack and the ashtray on the floor with the burning joint. She moves quickly and Jax falls to his side as she runs out the room.

She makes it to the closest bathroom where she immediately slams the door with Jax hot on her tail.

She instantly pours the bottle down the drain. She jumps when Jax pounds on the door.

"Opening this fucking door!" He screams.

"Calm the fuck down and take a shower. You smell like shit." Ann replies back. The pounding continues and she winces as she hears a crack. "Jax, you're going to break the fucking door!"

"Well fucking open it!" He shouts.

Ann flushes the blunt down the toilet along with the ashes. She places the ceramic tray next to the empty bottle of whiskey. She swings the door open to meet the glare of her son in law.

"What the fuck are you even doing here?" He seethes as he enters the bathroom.

"Taking care of your family since you are incapable of doing shit that doesn't revolve around you." Ann bites.

Jax's body goes tense. He stands down in front of her, his lips set in snarl. "This is not the time for your bullshit."

"No, it's not time for your bullshit!" She snaps back. "You have a fucking wife and son that need you. Stop being so goddamn selfish! Your father would fucking disgusted with the sight of you right now."

This time Ann knows she snapped something in Jax as she even realizes a startled yelp when he smashes the glass bottle against the wall.

"Jax?"

Both she and Jax are still at the sound of Alma's voice at the end of the hall. Ann hurries out of the bathroom.

"You need to fucking get out of here," she tells her daughter.

.

.

.

Jax sits down against the tombstone next to the disturbed dirt next to it. It's too early for Kaylee's tombstone yet. Benjamin's is an upright monument with columns with red granite. They decided to get Kaylee a matching one with an angel.

And only a few rows away lies Jax's own brother, Thomas, and his father.

This is only the second time Jax has been to the cemetery. He hadn't never ventured to see Ben's grave until Kaylee's funeral. It didn't seem real. He felt he could ignore that loss. He could push it aside. He never allowed himself to feel it until it was too late - too much.

He has lost his little girl. His baby girl. The light in his life. She's gone. He has lost two children due to his fucking family flaw.

He bows his head as he finally lets the past months catch up to him. His body shudders as everything hits him. He doesn't even care that he is in public at this point. He just wants the pain to go away. He just wants his world to go back to the way it was.

He wants his children alive. He wants to be able to go home to his wife and not feel like a failure. He isn't even sure how to help his family anymore. He knows they don't need him. Alma hasn't even spoken to him after his episode with her mother and even then he isn't even too sure what the last conversation they had was between each other. All he knows is she steers clear of him.

Nathan hasn't come to him for comfort at all. His boy is usually wrapped up in his mother's arms and he can hear him crying for Kaylee in her arms. He feels useless in his own house. He could go to the clubhouse, but he doesn't want to be coddled by his mother or even by his brothers. He just wants the pain to stop. He wants everything to stop hurting, but he knows that it won't happen for a while. In fact, he knows this pain will never go away. He will have to learn how to carry it. He needs to learn how to manage it. He doesn't know how his mom and dad manage to deal when Tommy died. He doesn't know how they found a place to accept it. He doesn't think he can ever accept this loss without it paralyzing him.

He stands up from the grave and places a kiss on top of Ben's grave. He kneels down on the fistrubed dirt and places his hand where his little rests before moving to visit his brother and father.

He tries not to think about how half of his family is buried in the fucking cemetry.

He is making his way to his bike when he spots Piney standing by it waiting for him.

"So, how's the old man?" Piney greets.

Jax manages a small smile. "Still dead."

"You know, I hear that happens." He replies.

Jax nods his head and kicks his foot at some loose gravel. "What are you doing, cruising for widows?"

"No. Stopped by your house. Alma didn't know where you were. Figure this would be the next stop." Piney reveals. "You, uh, you want to bounce something off of me? I mean, I'm not as smart as J.T., but I've been known to have my moments."

Jax stands a little taller. "I'm good."

Piney frowns at him. "Jax... we don't, uh, we don't have shrinks or priests. You don't want to talk to me, that's fine. But you gonna talk to somebody in this club and work this shit out?"

Jax releases a shaky breath. "I lost two of my kids Piney. I don't think I can even find a direction to go in. I just end up in a place I never even knew could be this bad." Jax doesn't know how to even be a man with his grief. He can't look at Alma without feeling as if he failed her and their children. Jax wipes away the tears that have begun to leak out of his eyes. "I don't think we can come back from this, Piney."

Maybe Jax thinks is what is eating him up the most. He knows his marriage is slowly reaching it's expiration date. They barely survived losing one child. Hell, they were barely communicating and only just addressed that their relationship wasn't the same and then they lost Kaylee. Most marriages barely manage surviving the loss of one child, but they lost two.

Jax knows the demise of his marriage is solely on him. He was the first one to break away. He weakened the foundation. He also knows he has answer for his episode with Ann in the bathroom, but she never knew when to stop fucking pushing. It wasn't an excuse, but she could never let things be.

Piney grips his shoulders. "Hey, Alma loves you, Jax. You just need to talk to her. She'll understand. You both can work through this."

Jax shakes his head. He doesn't think love alone is enough to fix the space that has come between him and his wife. "I don't think talking can fix it this time, Piney."

.

.

He feels like a stranger in his own home. He was unsure if he was even welcomed in the bedroom. It's not like Jax is expecting any form of sexual intimacy, but at least physical. Alma has closed herself off from him. He knew it would be a bad move to even try to wrap her in his arms. So he stayed rooted on his side of the bed and laid on his back.

He thinks he may have even slept with his eyes open. He doesn't feel well rested. He blinks what little sleep he got from his eyes as he realizes the sound of Alma cleaning is what woke him. She seemed to have already taken a shower as her hair was leaving wet spots on her white t-shirt. She is throwing his clothes he had recklessly discarded into a basket while tidying up things around the room.

"Al…" he says unsure.

She looks up at him and holds the hamper against her hip. She doesn't say anything, but looks at him expectedly.

He sits up in the bed and licks his lips. "We need to talk."

"About what?"

"Alma, please…"

"So what, when you want to talk I have to listen?" She fires back.

"That's not...I didn't mean...we lost our daughter, Alma, how in the fuck is any parent supposed to react."

"Maybe not by drowning in weed or booze, or about tending to your son and wife. How about we grieve together!" Alma snaps.

"How when we can barely be in the same room together, Alma. You act like you want nothing to do with me. I can't turn to you. You don't want me."

"You pushed me away first." Alma states. "With Ben...you weren't here...I didn't hold it against you. I couldn't and even with how you...grieved...I pushed aside the hurt and humiliation you put me through. But I'm not going to be your fucking doormat."

Jax is at a loss for words. He doesn't know what to even say in fear of pushing Alma away. He knows sorry isn't enough at this point. He isn't stupid enough to not know where this anger is coming from. He moves to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Alma please…"

Alma looks away from him. He can tell there are things she wants to say. He wants her to say it even if it makes him scared, or things he doesn't want to hear.

Her shoulders drop and she looks at him with a blank expression. "We need to focus on Nathan, Jax."

He wants to ask what the fuck does that even mean. He wants to say a lot of things, but he bites his tongue.

"I love you, Alma."

Her blank expression cracks a little. She clears her throat. "I know."

She walks out of the bedroom.

Jax grabs the lamp on the stand next to the bed and throws it across the room.

.

.

Alma is standing near the door of the office of the garage as she watched Nathan and Jax exchange goodbyes. The boys are going on a run to Eureka for a blood drive. Alma also thinks it is a semi celebratory run that with Zobelle leaving without a trace the case against them was dropped even with the weapon charges. It seemed with Zobelle being a known rat could have something to help with that.

Alma does notice the goodbye between her boys is stunted and stiff. More so from Nathan and it reminds her that her son is very aware of the shift happening inside the house. It is the last thing she wants. Despite whatever is going on between her and Jax, she does not want that to leak down into his relationship with his son.

Still it doesn't change that Nathan witnessed how Jax did grieve alone while Nathan found comfort in her arms. And Nathan shouldn't have that choice of having to settle for the other parents because the other one was too deep in their own grief.

Alma feels a presence behind her and she knows its Gemma. Surprisingly, the biker matriarch's helicopter parenting had taken a step back. She thinks it is because Gemma knows what it is like to lose a child that it is best not to impose, but even then Gemma never lost two children in the span of a year.

She does appreciate the space.

Gemma wraps her arms around her shoulder. She thinks maybe Gemma is thinking the same thing as her that Jax shouldn't be on this run. Alma has a feeling about what is going to happen on this run. She knows since she rejected Jax in trying to communicate that she was the one to push him away this time. He will probably justify any action he makes.

Her breath catches in her throat and she feels as if she is being suffocated. She escapes Gemma's hold and rushes into the bathroom in the garage. She slams the door shut and leans against it. She feels as if she is having a panic attack.

She knows her marriage is over.

Her marriage is over.

.

.

.

Jax sighs at the burn of the whiskey traveling down his throat. He really didn't care for the run to Eureka. It was simple, but nothing he was itching to do. However, being on the road reminded him how much he loved riding. He still had a refuge. He thinks maybe when they get back that a nice long ride will do him some good to clear his head. He doesn't know why he didn't think of taking a ride by himself before. Maybe a roundabout would do him some good. He and Alma could get some space and clarity and figure out how to move forward with their relationship.

Jax leans back in his chair. He lights a cigarette and blows a ring of smoke. He smiles at a few croweaters before his attention is taken by his stepfather. Clay looks at him with furrowed brows, his eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses.

Jax raises an eyebrow at his President. "Can I help you?"

"I want to know what the fuck you're doing," Clay says lowly.

"Trying to enjoy the party," Jax replies as he takes another sip from his whiskey.

"You know what I mean," Clay answers.

Jax thinks his mom has put Clay up to this. Clay never intervenes on what he deems to be family business. Only when it interferes with club business will Clay open his mouth. Even then, outside of the two weeks following Kaylee's funeral, Jax has been at every church meeting and any task Clay hesitantly gives him. Sure, he sometimes has a glossy look in his eyes and his hair and beard aren't trimmed as he usually keeps it, but he isn't zoning out. He isn't compromising anything within the club. "If you have something to say, just say it."

"Your mom is worried about her family." Clay reveals, which isn't surprising to Jax. "She doesn't know everything about what you did when Ben passed. But we all knew…." Clay trails off. "Probably 40, 50 patches watching us right now. We represent the past, present and future of this club. Sure, the sons are a Democratic organization, but everybody knows what happens in charming sets the tone for every charter."

Jax furrows his brows. He is confused. "And what's happening in Charming?"

"You tell me. These men behind us, they love you. They respect you and they understand your grief. But they're also wondering what you're gonna do with it."

Jax clenches his jaw. "That's my business."

"No, it isn't. Some of these guys are old enough to remember what happened to your old man. How he... fell apart, lost focus when Thomas died."

"Yeah, well, I'm not my old man."

"I know that, but they don't. You gotta show 'em something."

"Show them fucking what?" Jax snaps. "I lost my son and daughter that has fuck all to do with the club."

"How you treat your family is," Clay fires back. "Don't forget Alma is a daughter of a First 9. Some won't take kindly how you're treating her."

"You got to be fucking kidding me." Now people want to care about Alma's lineage. Now they want to care about how members cash in on the run protocol. No one has no problem with Clay indulging knowing he is with his mother. "My marriage isn't club business."

"If people see you can't manage your family life they are gonna start doubting how you can effectively lead this club."

"So what, I'm supposed to wipe the tears away and be done grieving for my kids. It doesn't work like that."

Clay looks at him silently. "You need to make a decision son. You fix things with Alma. Get your head on fucking straight, or you let that hammer drop and be done with it."

.

.

Jax laughs as Nathan does another cannonball in the pool. It is just the two of them at the house. Alma had only told him that she was going to be out for the day. He wasn't really left with a choice in the matter of watching Nathan. He decided that he would skip out going to the club and spend the day with his son.

So they had immediately changed into their swimming trunks and Jax lathered on the sunscreen on his boy. He thinks this is the first time they have hung out just one on one since Kaylee's passing. Nathan has preferred the company of Alma to him.

It hurts, but Jax knows that it is because of his doing and his own grief that his son couldn't come to him. If anything, Jax knows how to deal with the loss of a sibling. He could try and help his son with that because they will never truly be over the loss of Kaylee. They just have to make room for the hurt.

Jax jumps from his place at the edge of the pool and wades over to his son where he is heading into the deep end. Jax knows Nathan is only waddling towards that end since Alma isn't here especially without some type of floaty.

It wasn't as if Nathan was a bad swimmer. He swan pretty good, but when Alma is in mama bear mode they all know not to go against her.

He follows his son as he treads the water. He admires the changes in his son. Outside of the blue eyes, Nathan is all Alma. All he can see is Alma in the shape of his face, nose, smile, and the color of their hair. Alma will tell him that Nathan has his personality, but Nathan is Alma with their quiet demeanor and how they think and contemplate their words and actions before speaking.

"Be careful," Jax warns.

"I know how to swim," Nathan remarks.

"Well you can explain that one to your mother if she sees you without a floatie."

Nathan stills and swims over to Jax. His arms wrap around his neck. It reminds Jax of when Nathan was little and still in a diaper. Nathan loved water and would always smack his reflection and release a tirade of giggles.

Jax holds his son close. He presses a kiss to his son's head. "Everything alright?"

"Are you and Mommy happy?"

Jax wasn't prepared for that question. "What makes you ask that?"

"No one laughs anymore."

Jax's heart tightens.

Nathan continues before Jax can respond. "I know with...Kaylee...but even before that you and Mommy didn't seem happy. Mommy always seemed sad."

Jax swallows the lump in his throat. "Well when Mommy is sad...we just have to tell her we love her and give her lots of hugs and kisses, yeah."

"Are you sad, Daddy?"

"Right now, no. You make me happy. You and your mom."

Nathan furrows his brows and pouts his lips. "I want you and Mommy to be happy."

Jax hikes Nathan up a little higher so he can look his son in his eyes. "No matter what, your mom and I love you very much."

"I love you too, Daddy." Nathan replies.

.

.

Alma had been surprised when Donna reached out to have a girls day together. There has been space building between the two. This time it is coming from Alma after the loss of Kaylee. She has been isolating herself from everyone while she tries to figure out the next move in her life.

They aren't doing much either. Donna's parents have taken the kids for the day and they are at Donna's house. Donna had suggested they go to an actual spa, but Alma didn't want to deal with the looks of pity in public. They have wine and multiple colors of nail polish on the table. Alma isn't sure what is playing on TV, but her and Donna have been giggling since the third glass of wine. Alma might be staying the night if she doesn't sober up a bit.

Alma had painted her nails a very vibrant hot pink with an equally bright yellow on her toes. She is currently waiting for her toes to dry.

"So are you still doing nails at Cara Cara?" Donna asks.

Alma takes a sip of her wine. "Yea and no. I don't go to the studio, but there are some girls that still come to me. Not all of them, but most."

"You should open your own place up." Donna suggests.

Alma smiles. "I'll hire you to be the receptionist."

"You would probably pay better." Donna comments.

"Just lately, I haven't thought about it. Just been focusing on Nathan."

"You also need to focus on yourself." Donna points out. "If you don't you are going to break."

"How are things for you?" Alma asks. Opie still has years left in prison and outwardly Donna has her head held high, but she knows that is not the case. Plus, even far away, Alma knows that Opie is still a present husband. Donna may be alone, but she is not going through all of this alone.

"I have my days, ya know. I'm sure I haven't been through the worst yet."

"But you have Opie though."

Donna gives her a sad smile. "You and Jax…"

Alma gives a bitter laugh. "Watering a dead flower."

"Al…"

Alma finishes her glass of wine. She really doesn't want to cry over her husband anymore. She knows her marriage is at the end. They both are prolonging the inevitable and are making each other miserable. Although the thing is, if she and Jax separate where would she go. How would she support herself and Nathan. She can't just leave. She can't just take Nathan away from his father.

"If you need help. I'm here for you and Nathan."

"I just love him so much. I guess my mother was right about why it wouldn't last." Alma tells Donna.

"Do you think you guys can't work it out?" Donna probes.

Alma leans forward and refills her wine glass. "I think the damage has been done. I don't think it would be fair to him if I stayed."

"If you need help, I'm here." Donna promises.

.

.

Considering the exciting day in the pool, Nathan had quickly fallen asleep after his dinner and shower. It left Jax to his own devices as Alma still wasn't home. He had washed the dishes and tidied up a bit. In cleaning, he found an empty journal and for some reason began writing as he sat in the living room to wait for Alma. He had been baring his soul into this journal about everything that has happened within the past year. He was writing to Nathan, Kaylee, and Ben about his greatest achievements and failures.

Although in the back of his mind and on his paper, he couldn't divulge into his doubts about his marriage has turned out. Alma's silence all day only highlighted it more. He didn't want to bug her as it was rare she enjoyed a day to herself. He just knows if she isn't home in 30 minutes he will call her cell.

He has just placed his pen down and is flexing his hand when the front door opens. He is standing up when he hears keys hit the floor along with a "shit". He moves towards the foyer and he finds Alma struggling to take her shoes off.

"Al?"

His voice startles her and if he wasn't so concerned he would've laughed with how she fell on her ass. Although Alma is giggling enough for the both of them.

"Is Nathan up," Alma hiccups.

Jax furrows his brows. "Are you drunk?"

Alma stands on her shaky legs and Jax can't really ever think of a time Alma got drunk. She would be on the edge, but nothing to have her stumbling.

"If I am?" She counters as she brushes past him to their bedroom.

He follows her confused. "Where were you?"

She makes it to their room and begins to haphazardly throw her clothes and accessories around the room. He follows her as he picks up her clothes and puts them into the hamper. She doesn't answer him and he watches as she strips down to nothing but to her bra and underwear. He helps take off her jewelry and places them in her jewelry case.

"Who were you with?" He presses.

Alma sighs and it seems any tipiness she was feeling had disappeared. "Do you want a divorce?"

Jax freezes and a lump forms in his throat. He was not expecting that to come out of her mouth.

"Couples barely make it through losing one child. We lost two." Jax can see the tears forming in her eyes, but she doesn't bother to hide the pain she is feeling. "We both don't need to be miserable."

"Are you miserable?" He asks her.

"I don't make you happy," she answers.

.

.

.

Jax feels guilty. With all the shit going on, he has neglected his best friend. Even if Chino is a six hour ride, he had promised to do in house visits at least once a month. He hasn't in a while. He knows that Opie won't give him shit for it, but it doesn't change the fact Jax has been a shit husband and friend lately.

He embraces his friend in a tight hug.

"Fuck, man, I'm so sorry. How you've been?" Opie asks him as they pull apart.

"I don't know man. Shit is just upside down and everywhere." Jax says as they take a seat at the table.

Opie is quiet for a bit. "What do we want to tackle first?"

Jax chuckles and shakes his head a bit. "I can't talk about the kids. I mean...I know...it's gonna take time. I'm trying to deal with it. I am finally dealing with it. I hate that you weren't there, ya know. You didn't get to say goodbye to Kaylee...you never got to meet Ben.." Jax stops as he can feel the tears building.

"Hey, man, I know. I know. We don't have to go there right now…"

"I think Alma wants a divorce." Jax reveals. Since Alma's drunken question, he hasn't been too sure of how to fix their marriage. He isn't sure how to show Alma that he wants them together. He loves her. He doesn't want to live in a world without her. He knows that he is the cause of her having doubts with them and herself.

"Did she say that?"

"She asked if it was what I wanted…" Jax licks his lips. "But if she had to ask me that...it's my fault where we are at where we are."

"What you do?"

"Treated her like shit since I came back." Jax states truthfully.

"Did you…?"

Jax nods his head regretfully. "I fucked up, Opie."

"She know?"

"Yeah. Had a few fights about it and other things. I just feel...we make an effort and it sets us back, or something happens. She's not happy, but I don't want to let her go."

Opie is silent and Jax knows he probably won't like what his friend has to say. "You think about leaving the house? Start back to square one. Just having space between the two of you can give clarity."

"With this life...I just didn't want Nathan to have to grow up in a broken home." Jax reveals.

With the Life he has, he wanted his children to have a strong family base. He may not be a good man, but he wanted to keep that shelter from his kids for as long as he could. He didn't want his kids to grow up like he did with knowing everything. He doesn't even know how much Nathan knows about club business. Sure, he entertains his son when he says that he wants to join the club, but his son didn't know the truth. He still had that child innocence that he knows is surely being stripped away.

"I think him seeing you and Alma slowly turn into shells of yourselves is gonna be worse than you two being apart and healthy. And it's not like you guys can't find your way back to each other."

"I just fucked up. I know I did." Jax says shaking his head. "I don't think I can fix this."

"When you go home, send Nathan to your moms, even if Alma is resistant, you force her to talk. You lay everything out. It might be best for you to stay at your moms than the clubhouse though."

Jax chuckles a bit. "I just...I hate myself for hurting her like this."

"You're human. Make mistakes, it is how we learn and grow from them. Marriage is hard. You both have gone through so much shit...maybe this is what you guys need so the damage isn't fixable at a certain point."

.

.

"I got you Mom!" Nathan shouts as he shoots his water gun directly on his mom's stomach. The water stain spreads and his mom huffs. His mom was mowing the front lawn and he was bored and found the stash of water guns.

"I don't know if I should be concerned about how you know your way around a gun so well." His mom states as she steps away from the lawn mower and looks down her shirt.

"I practice, Mom," Nathan says gleefully.

"Maybe a little too much," she adds.

"I miss playing with Uncle Opie." Nathan tells his mom. He really wanted to see his Uncle Opie with his dad, but he wasn't allowed to go for whatever reason.

"Well write a letter and set up a phone call date." His mom tells him.

"Yeah, but it's not the same." Nathan mutters.

Alma frowns and wraps her arms around her son. "I know, baby. Maybe when Donna goes to visit Uncle Opie we can see if you can go. Or maybe we'll make a trip with it. I'm sure Aunt Donna and your cousins would like that."

"Can Dad come?"

"Yeah, I don't see why not," she replies.

"Are you sure?"

"Why wouldn' I be?"

Nathan bites his lip. He may be young, but he notices things. Since his sister has passed away things have not been the same. He thinks even before that something was wrong with his parents.

He was used to his parents always kissing and hugging one another, but he hasn't seen them have any of those interactions in months. There isn't any laughter between them. He knows losing Ben and Kaylee has to do with most of it, but Nathan got better with the grief with his mom. She helped him. He just isn't sure how his parents aren't able to help each other.

"I just want you and Dad to be happy." He tells his mom.

Alma kneels down in front of him. He notices that she has the sad smile on her face that she has had even before Kaylee has passed. She cups his cheek and her thumb roams back and forth across it. "I love your Dad. I always will, but sometimes happiness and love aren't mutually exclusive."

"So loving Dad doesn't make you happy?"

"I will always love your Dad, but sometimes that love will make me feel sad or mad," she says with a scrunched nose that makes them both laugh. "I'm sorry things haven't been how they were. Things haven't been the same since Kaylee...and Ben, but I think things will get better. Not right away, but we just have to make a new normal for us."

"Does this new normal involve a new bike?" Nathan asks with a smile.

Alma pinches his cheeks. "You are just like your father."

"Excuse me?"

Both he and his mom jump at the voice of a woman who is standing in front of them. She has blonde hair that looks like honey. Nathan thinks she is really tall. Taller than his mom. But his eyes are drawn to her very pregnant belly.

"I'm looking for Jax Teller." The woman says.

. . .

Her name was Wendy. She was pregnant. Six months pregnant to be exact. Her belly was round and full. Wendy had told her that Jury was even kind enough to keep her working behind the bar since she couldn't glide on a pole anymore.

Wendy didn't have to tell Alma why exactly she was here. The belly and scared look on her face was enough. Alma had politely informed Wendy that Jax wasn't here and Alma gathered the appropriate contact info for the woman staying at the Ramada. Although, Alma wouldn't be surprised if Wendy made a pit stop to the clubhouse.

Alma is surprised she hasn't gotten numb to being humiliated by Jax. The only silver lining to any of this was Gemma was not busy and Alma had dropped Nathan off to spend the day with his grandmother.

Alma knows she wouldn't have been able to keep a poker face around her son. She wasn't even sure of what she wanted to do or going to do. She really wanted to kill her husband at this point. She just knows she didn't have any more tears left for her husband.

She is sitting in the living room smoking a blunt with a bottle of vodka open. She hates vodka, but right now it tastes like Kool Aid. She practically inhales the bottle when she hears Jax's bike pull into the driveway.

She waits in silence for him to enter the house.

"Babe?" Jax calls out as he enters the house.

She doesn't bother replying as he is going to smell the weed anyways. He seems to be following the scent as she hears his footsteps approaching.

"Are you smoking weed?" He asks in disbelief.

She doesn't bother with an answer. She can feel him besides her. His shadow looms over her. "And you're drinking." He takes a seat next to her. "What happened?"

Alma didn't say anything for a couple minutes. She doesn't know if she even has the right to be mad. She should've left when she first found out Jax was sleeping around. She stayed and now it is slapping her in the goddamn face.

She digs into the pocket of her cardigan. She places the paper that contains all the information to contact Wendy on the table and slides it over to Jax.

"She's looking for you." Alma tells him.

Jax furrows his brows and he looks down at the paper. It doesn't seem to click as he stares at the paper for a couple minutes. Although maybe Alma adding that she is from Nevada might have helped connect the dots.

"Babe -" Jax starts and goes to reach out to her, but Alma stands immediately and creates some distance. He immediately clamps his mouth shut.

"I want you out of the house. I don't care where you go or who you are with, but I want you gone. If you need something regarding Nathan, you can talk to me through Gemma. But don't call me, don't come here, don't do anything until I reach out."

"Alma, please let -"

"She's pregnant!" Alma shouts and Jax's freezes.

"It's not mine. I wore -"

"I don't care. You slept with her. She's pregnant and she's here." Alma folds her arms around herself. "I'll give you space to pack your clothes."

. . .

Two weeks Jax has felt like he has been in a constant state of panic. It's been two weeks since he has heard from Alma or even seen a glimpse of her. She had been deadly serious that if there was anything concerning Nathan that it was to go through his mom.

Even when he got Nathan on the Thursdays to Monday morning, his mom would drop him off or pick him up.

Jax had decided to stay with his mom as well. He didn't want to stay at the clubhouse. The guys were not saying much, outside of Piney, but were giving him looks of pity. He knew it was going to be any day now that Alma would serve him divorce papers.

And after a couple days, Jax had made a move to contact Wendy. He had been met with a very pregnant Wendy. She was claiming that he could be the father. He fits in her timeline of conception. He demanded a DNA test, but of course she wanted to wait until the baby was born for the non invasive test. Still, there was a chance that this baby could be his. Even if it wasn't the damage was already done.

"Sitting in your self pity isn't going to get your wife back."

Jax snaps his gaze up from his half empty coffee mug to look at his mother. He of course got a verbal ass whooping from his mother. He feared his mother was going to shoot him. He also had been surprised that she wasn't trying to help him mend his marriage, but he knows it would only piss off Alma more.

"Maybe we should get a court order demanding Wendy performs a DNA test now."

"I'm not going to do that." Jax says.

"Why not? Do you realize what is at stake here? Alma is going to leave your sorry ass."

"Thanks for the reminder, Mom. But I would rather not have to deal with an angry Wendy."

"Who gives a fuck about that bitch's feelings. She went out of her way to humiliate your wife in front of your son. She knew what she was doing when going to your house." Gemma snarls. "Besides from the way you are talking, it seems the kid is yours."

"It could be." Jax admits truthfully.

Gemma sighs. "Then the ink on your divorce papers is practically dry, Jax."

"You know I really don't need this right now, Ma."

"Oh I'm sorry, Alma didn't need to be humiliated and betrayed by her husband when she was mourning the loss of their children. See what happens when you bury your fucking problems in pussy that isn't your wife!" Gemma snaps.

Jax scowls at his mom and he doesn't get to reply as his phone starts vibrating. He sees it's Half Sack. Despite Alma's no contact order he had given the Prospect instructions to keep tabs on his wife.

"Yeah?"

"Jax, you need to get to the house."

Jax immediately stands. "Why what's going on?"

"I think she is leaving, Jax."

. . .

He wasn't surprised to see Ann there. He should have expected it. He doesn't even properly park his bike as he stands and gets off it. He can hear it fall down on the driveway and he removes his helmet and tosses it on the ground.

Nathan is sitting on the steps crying. Ann is packing an unrecognizable car he thinks could be a rental. Alma stands out on the steps not entirely shocked to see him. Any misery vanishes at the thought of Alma leaving and taking his son without any warning.

"So you were just going to fucking leave without saying anything. You were going to take my son!" He roars and he doesn't care about causing a scene.

"Nathan wants to stay here with you." Alma replies calmly. "I was gonna drop him off with you at your mom's. Lowen drew up some divorce papers."

Jax's heart drops to his chest. His anger instantly vanishes. "Alma, please, we can work this out. Just don't leave."

Alma steps down from the steps. "I have no choice but to leave you. Just please sign the papers that is all I want."

"Alma, please…" He begs.

He can tell Alma is trying to fight back the tears. "There isn't anything you can do or say, Jax. I don't want to end up hating you more. When I get settled we can make arrangements for Nathan. Just keep him safe."

She turns away from him and she kneels down to face Nathan. He can't hear what she is saying, but his little boy begins to cry harder.

"Please, don't go, Mom. Just stay please," Nathan wails as Alma holds their son close. Nathan's cries lower, but his body is shaking from the effort. Alma presses a kiss to his head and holds him before she stands.

Alma turns to him. Her eyes filled with unshed tears. "I'll call Nathan when I get settled."

"Where are you going?" Jax asks her. "You don't need to leave, Alma. You can have the house -"

"Charming isn't my home anymore Jax. You made sure of that."

Jax watches as Alma reaches her mom, who finally closes the trunk of the car. Jax is surprised Ann isn't jumping for joy or doing cartwheels. Alma doesn't look back as she gets into the passenger side of the door. The car begins pulling out of the driveway when Nathan gets up screaming for them to stop. The car stops and Alma opens the door.

Nathan stands in front of him. His blue eyes red from tears. "I want to go with Mom."

Jax doesn't bother hiding his tears as he bends down and embraces his son tightly. He cannot deny the boy the right to want to leave with Alma. "You take care of your mom, alright."

Nathan holds him tightly. "I love you, Dad."

Jax presses a kiss to his son's head. "I love you too. You and your mom."

Nathan loosens his grip and Jax lets his son go. He watches as Alma holds Nathan tightly before she helps him into the backseat of the car.

Jax watches his family drive away.

He falls to his knees and he doesn't care who sees him.

[the-courage-to-heal]

How to Fight Depression: 20 Things to Try:

Depression can drain your energy, leaving you feeling empty and fatigued. This can make it difficult to muster the strength or desire to seek treatment. However, there are small steps you can take to help you feel more in control and improve your overall sense of well-being. Read on to learn how to incorporate these strategies in a way that makes sense for you.

1. Meet yourself where you are

Depression is common. It affects millions of people, including some in your life. You may not realize they face similar challenges, emotions, and obstacles. Every day with this disorder is different. It’s important to take your mental health seriously and accept that where you are right now isn’t where you’ll always be. The key to self-treatment for depression is to be open, accepting, and loving toward yourself and what you’re going through.

2. If you need to wallow, wallow — but do so constructively

Suppressing your feelings and emotions may seem like a strategic way to cope with the negative symptoms of depression. But this technique is ultimately unhealthy. If you’re having a down day, have it. Let yourself feel the emotions — but don’t stay there. Consider writing or journaling about what you’re experiencing. Then, when the feelings lift, write about that, too. Seeing the ebb and flow of depressive symptoms can be instructive for both self-healing and hope.

3. Know that today isn’t indicative of tomorrow

Today’s mood, emotions, or thoughts don’t belong to tomorrow. If you were unsuccessful at getting out of bed or accomplishing your goals today, remember that you haven’t lost tomorrow’s opportunity to try again. Give yourself the grace to accept that while some days will be difficult, some days will also be great. Try to look forward to tomorrow’s fresh start.

4. Assess the parts instead of generalizing the whole

Depression can tinge recollections with negative emotions. You may find yourself focusing on the one thing that went wrong instead of the many things that went right. Try to stop this overgeneralization. Push yourself to recognize the good. If it helps, write down what was happy about the event or day. Then write down what went wrong. Seeing the weight you’re giving to one thing may help you direct your thoughts away from the whole and to the individual pieces that were positive.

5. Do the opposite of what the ‘depression voice’ suggests

The negative, irrational voice in your head may talk you out of self-help. However, if you can learn to recognize it, you can learn to replace it. Use logic as a weapon. Address each thought individually as it occurs. If you believe an event won’t be fun or worth your time, say to yourself, “You might be right, but it’ll be better than just sitting here another night.” You may soon see the negative isn’t always realistic

6. Set attainable goals

A lengthy to-do list may be so weighty that you’d rather do nothing. Instead of compiling a long list of tasks, consider setting one or two smaller goals.

For example:

Don’t clean the house; take the trash out. Don’t do all the laundry that’s piled up; just sort the piles by color. Don’t clear out your entire email inbox; just address any time-sensitive messages. When you’ve done a small thing, set your eyes on another small thing, and then another. This way, you have a list of tangible achievements and not an untouched to-do list.

7. Reward your efforts

All goals are worthy of recognition, and all successes are worthy of celebration. When you achieve a goal, do your best to recognize it. You may not feel like celebrating with a cake and confetti, but recognizing your own successes can be a very powerful weapon against depression’s negative weight. The memory of a job well-done may be especially powerful against negative talk and overgeneralization.

8. You may find it helpful to create a routine

If depressive symptoms disrupt your daily routine, setting a gentle schedule may help you feel in control. But these plans don’t have to map out an entire day. Focus on times when you feel the most disorganized or scattered. Your schedule could focus on the time before work or right before bed. Perhaps it’s only for the weekends. Focus on creating a loose, but structured, routine that can help you keep your daily pace going.

9. Do something you enjoy...

Depression can push you to give into your fatigue. It may feel more powerful than happy emotions. Try to push back and do something you love — something that’s relaxing, but energizing. It could be playing an instrument, painting, hiking, or biking. These activities can provide subtle lifts in your mood and energy, which may help you overcome your symptoms.

10. ...like listening to music

Music can be a great way to boost your mood and improve symptoms of depression. It may also help you strengthenTrusted Source your reception of positive emotions. Music may be especially beneficial when performed in group settings, such as a musical ensemble or band. You can also reap some of the same rewards simply by listening.

11. Or spend time in nature

Mother Nature can have a powerful influence on depression. Exposure to sunlight may offer some of the same benefits. It can increase your serotonin levels, which can provide a temporary mood boost. Consider taking a walk at lunch among the trees or spending some time in your local park. Or plan a weekend hike. These activities can help you reconnect with nature and soak in some rays at the same time.

12. Or spend time with loved ones

Depression can tempt you to isolate yourself and withdraw from your friends and family, but face-to-face time can help wash away those tendencies. If you’re unable to spend time together in person, phone calls or video chats can also be helpful. Try to remind yourself these people care about you. Resist the temptation to feel like you’re a burden. You need the interaction — and they likely do, too.

13. Try something new entirely

When you do the same thing day after day, you use the same parts of your brain. You can challenge your neurons and alter your brain chemistry by doing something entirely different. Research also shows doing new things can improve your overall well-being and strengthen your social relationships. To reap these benefits, consider trying a new sport, taking a creative class, or learning a new cooking technique.

14. Volunteering can be a great way to do both

Knock out a few birds with one stone — spending time with other people and doing something new — by volunteering and giving your time to someone or something else. You may be used to receiving help from friends, but reaching out and providing help may actually improve your mental health more.

Bonus: People who volunteer experience physical benefits, too. This includes a reduced risk of hypertension.

15. You can also use this as a way to practice gratitude

When you do something you love, or even when you find a new activity you enjoy, you may be able to boost your mental health more by taking time to be thankful for it. Research shows gratitude can have lasting positive effects on your overall mental health. What’s more, writing down your gratitude — including writing notes to others — can be particularly meaningful.

16. Incorporating meditation may help ground your thoughts

Stress and anxiety can prolong your depression symptoms. Finding relaxation techniques can help you lower stress and invite more joy and balance into your day. Research suggests activities like meditation, yoga, deep breathing, and even journaling may help you improve your sense of well-being and feel more connected to what’s happening around you.

17. What you eat and drink can also affect how you feel

There’s no magic diet that will treat depression. But what you put into your body can have a real and significant impact on the way you feel. Eating a diet rich in lean meats, vegetables, and grains may be a great place to start. Try to limit stimulants like caffeine, coffee, and soda, and depressants like alcohol. Some people also feel better and have more energy when they avoid sugar, preservatives, and processed foods.

18. If you’re up for exercise, consider a walk around the block

On days when you feel as if you can’t get out of bed, exercise may seem like the last thing you’d want to do. However, exercise and physical activity can be powerful depression fighters. Research suggests that, for some people, exercise can be as effective as medication at relieving depression symptoms. It may also help prevent future depressive episodes. If you’re able to, take a walk around the block. Start with a five-minute walk and work your way up from there.

19. Getting enough sleep can also have a noticeable effect

Sleep disturbances are common with depression. You may not sleep well, or you may sleep too much. Both can make depression symptoms worse. Aim for eight hours of sleep per night. Try to get into a healthy sleeping routine. Going to bed and waking up at the same time every day can help you with your daily schedule. Getting the proper amount of sleep may also help you feel more balanced and energized throughout your day.

20. Consider clinical treatment

You may also find it helpful to speak to a professional about what you’re going through. A general practitioner may be able to refer you to a therapist or other specialist. They can assess your symptoms and help develop a clinical treatment plan tailored to your needs. This may include traditional options, such as medication and therapy, or alternative measures, such as acupuncture. Finding the right treatment for you may take some time, so be open with your provider about what is and isn’t working. Your provider will work with you to find the best option.

source

[pomeqraniqht]

Random Character Development Questions meme: ALL OF THEM for Sofia (revenge!!)

001. When is their birthday?      June 5th.  002. Do they do anything to celebrate their birthday?      Depending on the verse she’ll go out with her friends or her Aunt will take her on a vacation or something.  003. Does your character like coffee better, or tea?      Sofia likes both equally, tea more in Autumn though for some odd reason.  004. Do they prefer being alone or with others?      Sofia does NOT do well on her own AT ALL. She definitely needs a healthy ecosystem of people to survive.  005. Are they in good health?      Sofia under-eats at times and others she starves herself to fill her mother’s outlandish ideas for body image. So no, she isn’t.  006. What sense do they most rely on?      People’s approval.. whether it is at work or in relationships.  007. Is your character an optimist or a pessimist?      Both at times it depends on which mind-set she is in.  008. What is their favorite fairy tale?      Cinderella.  009. Do they believe in happy endings?      Yes even if time and again she’s been proven they aren’t real.  010. Do they believe in love at first sight?      Yes and no. Sofia’s so hateful to herself she believes in it for everyone else EXCEPT herself.  011. How would your character court the person of their dreams?      Carefully and with love, Sofia would honestly do anything and be anything for them.  012. What makes your character embarrassed?      LITERALLY EVERYTHING! 013. Have they ever been bullied or teased?      Too many times in her life.  014. Detail one secret shame your character feels.      Sofia hates her stretch marks and wishes she could have them removed forever. 015. Are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue?      Fists. She’s tiny but mighty! 016. What is their choice of weapon?      Whatever is the closest option? 017. When does your character think that violence is justified or deserved?      When someone is trying to hurt someone they love/robbery/self defense. 018. Your character wakes up to find that war has been declared. What do they do?      Cry. 019. If they could have a superpower, what would they choose?      Invisibility. 020. What are their hobbies?      Sofia enjoys reading, listening to music, baking/cooking, swimming, and buying face masks. 021. How do they display affection?      Cooking food and sweets for the ones she loves. 022. What is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen?      Verse dependent as par usual but for this one I would say: the forest they got married, Roman, Stella, and Rusty the day he was discharged 90 days sober. 023. What do they consider beautiful in others physically?      Eyes...and tattoos. 024. What do they consider ugly in others physically?      Nothing! Sofia finds everyone beautiful (but honestly it’s dental hygiene.) 025. What do they consider beautiful in others personality-wise?      Kindness and understanding. 026. What do they consider ugly in others personality-wise?      Hatred. 027. What is their idea of perfect happiness?      Eating sweets without gaining weight with the person she loves. 028. What makes them laugh out loud?      Tickles. She’s extremely ticklish. 029. What sort of sense of humor does your character have?      Sweet and dark. 030. Do they believe in the afterlife?      Yes, she visits her father’s grave often and speaks to him. 031. Are they superstitious about anything?      Breaking mirrors and Friday the 13th. 032. Does your character believe in ghosts?      Yes. 033. Do they keep their promises?      Yes. 034. What’s their view of lying?      Death penalty. 035. What is the most important rule your character lives by?      Treat others how you wish to be treated. 036. How honorable is your character?      Extremely unless she’s in the shower or bathtub with a certain someone. 037. If your character saw someone drop a large sum of money and knew that they could probably take it without anyone noticing, what would they do?      Absolutely not!  038. What bad habits do they have?      Weighing herself constantly and hiding beneath baggy clothes. 039. What do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person?      Cheating. 040. What is their obsession?      Face skin care. 041. Are they comfortable with technology?      Yes. 042. What is their greatest achievement?      Graduating college with a teaching degree. 043. What will they stand up for?      Justice for abuse victims. 044. What disgusts them?      Worms. 045. Does your character have any chronic medical conditions?      No. 046. How do they handle getting sick?      Not well, she’s a little bit of a baby. 047. What was the last medical problem your character had?      On record/cannon it was a car accident while she was about 7 months pregnant with her second child. 048. Do they have any allergies?      Yes, to Bullshit.  049. How does your character feel about growing old?      Indifferent. 050. How does your character feel about their own mortality?      Everyday is a blessing.  051. If they knew they would die tomorrow, what would they do today?      Go find Rusty Parker and spend every minute with him telling him to be happy, to stay away from drugs, and to be strong for their kids.  052. What is your character’s worst flaw?      Her insecurities.  053. What is your character’s greatest strength?      Her cooking skill. 054. Does your character want power or authority of any kind?      No. 055. Is your character an introvert or an extrovert?      She’s an introvert but with her friends she’s a happy medium. 056. Has your character ever struck someone in anger?      Yes. 057. Has your character ever killed anyone?      Not yet. 058. What is your character’s idea of a perfect day?      Pancakes and sex. 059. List several phrases your character is fond of uttering. Where did they pick them up?      ‘Goodness me, oh my god, are you serious? Baby...and c’mere’ - several places. 060. What is your character’s attitude toward education and learning?      If you want a better life a degree certainly helps but education should NOT cost you your life to be able to afford it.  061. Does your character prefer adventure or safety and security?      A healthy dosage of both. 062. What sort of legacy does your character wish to leave behind?      A kind one.  063. How well does your character handle difficult people?      Not well.  064. In what ways does your character annoy others?      Constantly needing he be reassured she’s wanted. 065. Is your character better at leading or following? Which do they prefer?      Neither? She just wants to let someone else handle it all. 066. Does your character prefer city life or being out in nature?      Out in nature. 067. Does your character believe in fate or destiny?      Both, extremely so.  068. How strong is your character’s sense of responsibility? What kinds of things trigger it?      Sofia is extremely responsible, she loves kids and wants a big family some day. Her job, her aunt, her relationships.  069. What about your character is heroic?      She’s a survivor of mental and physical abuse. 070. What about your character is cowardly?      She won’t acknowledge her eating problems.  071. How kind is your character?      Would rip her heart out and give it to someone if they needed it.  072. In a Dungeons & Dragons game, which class would your character be? (wizard, fighter, bard, priest, ranger, etc.)      A wizard, duh. She’s magic.  073. In a novel, what plot role would your character fill? (hero, anti-hero, sidekick, villain, etc.)      The main character.  074. What is your character’s favorite game?      Monopoly. 075. Is your character ticklish?      EXTREMELY! 076. How do they express anger?      Tears and yelling.  077. How often do they cry? Over what?      1 week out of the month and literally anything.  078. How emotionally stable is your character?      Depends on the day, we’re either 2009 Britney or Kamala Harris.. it’s never in the middle.  079. How easy is it for them to read the emotions of others?      Good and bad sometimes. 080. How easy is it for others to read your character’s emotions?      It’s like a two way mirror.  081. Is your character religious?      No. 082. What are your character’s sleeping preferences?      All the time.  083. What is the first thing they say and/or do when they wake up?      Go potty and brush their teeth. 084. Describe your character in one word.      sunshine.  085. Describe your character in three words.      Sweet, soft, adorable.  086. How would your character describe themself in one word?      Ugly. 087. How would your character describe themself in three words?      Smart, fat, awkward. 088. Is your character quiet or loud?      Yes. 089. How vocally expressive is your character?      Very. 090. How bodily expressive is your character?      Not at all. 091. What type of music does your character like?      Literally anything.  092. What emotion does your character evoke in others?      Happiness? I think?  093. What is your character’s goal in life?      To be a professor at a college.  094. Name three things most would not expect your character to be able to know.      How to deliver a baby, how to do stitches, and how to bake a turkey.  095. Name three things most would not expect your character to be able to do.      Fix a broken boy, kill her mother, and have a baby without pain medicine.  096. How do they move and carry themselves? What energy do they project?     Sofia’s a shy little bean who honestly just walks around smiling even when she’s broken inside.  097. How well do they adapt to change?      It takes her a long time to get used to somethings but others its easy.  098. Does your character like animals?      Yes! 099. Do they talk to inanimate objects?      Absolutely.  100. Does your character dream? If so, what do they dream about?      the happily ever after.

[fortitudina]

                DETAILED CHARACTER BIO QUESTIONS.

Name: Cillian Diarmuid Brockhurst ( Kye-Lan )

Nickname(s): Ci ( Kye ), Brocky, Snipes.

Name significance/meaning: Cillian ~ This name has several known meanings, including “war,” “strife,” and “bright-headed.” The word cille also means “associated with the church,” so the name is often associated with the word “church” or “monastery.”

Gender: Male

Age: 32

Birthday: 11th November

Deathday: ~

Star Sign/Astrology Sign/Zodiac Sign: Scorpio

Location: Los Angeles

Birthplace: Los Angeles

Ethnicity: Irish-American

Nationality: American

Race: Caucasian

Physical Appearance: Clean cut and well presented average height male with brunette hair and blue eyes.

Skin Tone: Sandy-Tan ( https://www.schemecolor.com/skin-pastels.php )

Complexion: fair, smooth & soft.

Eye Color: Old World Blue ( x )

Natural Hair Color: Brunette

Height: 5’10” / 1.78m

Weight: 77kg / 169 lbs / 12st 12lbs

Body Type: Mesomorph

Build: Muscular / Athletic

Posture: Healthy [ x ]

Birthmarks: Strawberry mark on his right hip.

Scars: Gunshot scar on the right side of his chest & left side of the hip region of his abdomen. Stabbing scar to his abdomen and one on the back on the right hip area. One on the back of his neck.

Left Handed/Right Handed/Ambidextrous: Right handed

Age Character Appears to Others: 32

Dyed Hair Color: undyed

Usual Hairstyle: Short

Tattoos: Army tattoo on right bicep

Piercings: none

Makeup Style: ~

Clothing Style: Smart-casual

Clothing Size:  Chest ~ 32inches / Waist ~ 26inches / Hips ~ 32inches

Shoe Style:  Steel-toed boots, sneakers, oxfords.

Shoe Size: 10

Nail Appearance: short, well kept.

Eyebrow Shape: Straight ( x )

Features: Soft features overall; perfectly symmetrical 

Face Shape: Oval

Facial Hair: Light stubble

Voice: Deep

Distinguishing Feature: Smile

Extrovert or Introvert: Ambivert

Personality Traits: Cheeky, Compassionate, Loyal

MBTI Personality: ESFJ-A

Optimist or Pessimist: Optimist

Temperament: Cheeky disposition

Mood: Cheerful

Attitude: Positive

Strengths: Caring, Kind, Giving

Flaws: Blunt, Hero Complex, Brash

Mannerisms: Smirking, quirking of eyebrow, cheeky grins

Habits: fiddling with pens or small objects

Morning Person or Night Owl: Morning person

Pet Peeves: idiots, bad lying, loud eaters, slow people ( walking etc )

Favorite Sin: Gluttony

Favorite Virtue: Patience

Weakness: Loved ones or friends & colleagues getting hurt / involved.

Strengths: Sharp-shooter, Skilled hand-to-hand combat.

Expressiveness: strong use of both facial expressions and hand movements.

Ruled by Heart or Mind: A little bit of both; more heart though.

Mindset: Positive

Philosophy:  “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit”

Motivated by: Food, Justice, Happiness.

Everyday Speech: “The past is behind, learn from it. The future is ahead, prepare for it. The present is here, live it.”

Life Motto: “Don't count the days, make the days count.”

Energy Level: High

Memory Level: Eidetic (Photographic) Memory

Disabilities: none

Phobias: Incredibly small spaces. 

Addictions: Does pizza and poptarts count?

General aptitude: Fluid Intelligence

Mental Strengths: Problem-Solving, Psychoanalysis, 

Mental Weakness: Not a Genius 

Physical Strengths: Physically fit, keen hand-eye coordination, 

Physical Weakness: weakened cervical vertebrae from an old injury during a tour in Afghanistan

Past Illnesses: Chicken pox twice as a kid

Major Surgeries: Surgery to pin his cervical spine. Surgery to remove various bullets.

Accidents: Had several bumps and scrapes whilst at work.

Stability: Very Stable

Allergies: Pollen, Shellfish

Job Title: Detective

Company: LAPD

Career Type: Police

Education: High School, Military, Police Academy

College: ~

Work Ethic: Hard-working

Job History: Sniper in the Army, Beat Cop, Detective.

Income: $74,000 per anum

Political Party/Organizations: Doesn’t do politics

Volunteer Work: Helps at the Veteran’s housing association.

Dream job: Got it

What job would s/he do poorly at: Doctor

Career satisfaction: Love the job

Diet: Coffee and any food easy to grab on the go

Favorite Foods: Poptarts, Barbecue-based, Chicago stuffed crust pizza.

Favorite Drinks: Coffee, Beer, Cranberry juice.

Favorite Movie: Top Gun

Favorite Music: doesn’t really have a favourite

Favorite Book: doesn’t have time to read

Favorite Place: Does bed count?

Favorite activities: Running, Shooting, Cooking

Favorite time of day: Morning

What makes them happy? Catching the bad guys, seeing friends & family happy.

What makes them sad? Losing someone close to them.

Hobbies: Shooting, Running, Cooking, Singing

Interests: Films, Artwork

Favorite animal: Hyena

Loves to do: Wind people up and be cheeky

Hates to do: Paperwork

Inspired by: Former Army Colleagues

Raised by: (family) Mother and Father

Parent Status: Married ~ alive

Mother’s Name: Siobhan Marie Brockhurst

Mother’s Age: 63

Mother’s Background: Irish

Father’s Name: Patrick James Brockhurst

Father’s Age: 68

Father’s Background: American

Relationship with Mother: Close

Relationship with Father: Okay..

Parenting Type: Strict

Only Child? One of Three

First Born, Middle Child, or Youngest? Middle

# of Siblings: Second of three siblings

Relationship with Siblings: Close to brother; Distant with sister

Extended Family: ~

Family Relations: ~

How has family life shaped the character? Helped to both break him and make him who he is today

What they like most about their family: They will all get together for holidays and birthdays

What they dislike most about their family: The religious side

Children: Nil

Pets: Two Dogs

Best Friend(s): Doesn’t have one.

Worst Enemy: ~

Many acquaintances or few close friends? Few close friends

Sexual Preference: Any

Orientation: Pansexual

Relationship Status: Verse Dependent 

Marital Status: Verse Dependent

First Love: Carlie Anne Vaugn 

Current Love or Aspiring Love: Verse Dependent.

Notable Ex-Lovers: Azrael Mortem

Top 3 Loved Ones: ~

Top 3 Disliked Ones: ~ 

Who knows the character best? Eoghan, his brother or Lupita, his work partner.

Childhood: Cillian had a fairly stable upbringing; his parents in a strong marriage and with an older brother to help teach him the ropes, Cillian did well during his early school years and thrived in all of his subjects.

Adolescence: As he got to high school, he joined the football and soccer teams; being rather sporty as a child meant his fitness was impeccable. When he finished High school, instead of going to college, Cillian got in with the wrong crowd and ended up being arrested for Breaking and Entering and several counts of theft.

Young Adult: Went through Military training then, Cillian’s Regiment was sent to Afghanistan where they served three tours before he was shot in the Line of Duty after going through Hell being tortured with one of his comrades.

Adult: After being medically discharged from the army, Cillian took a year out for convalescence before joining LAPD. Given his history with the army, he soon shot up through the ranks until he became a Detective. He will also play the role of Police Sniper/marksman if they have to go into particularly tough situations that require an overwatch. 

Moments/Experiences that shaped them: Getting into the wrong crowd after High school. Being sent into the Army. Being captured and tortured during his final tour in Afghanistan. 

How have they changed as a person throughout their life? He has matured a considerable amount and become regimented and organised as an adult, with a respect for the law and bringing justice.

Major regrets: Getting involved with who he did as a teenager and ending up getting arrested.

Biggest life lessons learned: Don’t get arrested.

Religious Beliefs: Catholic

Upbringing: Strict & Religious

Core Values: Dependability, Consistency, Loyalty, Reliability, Integrity.

Morals: Always tell the truth, Treat others as you want to be treated, Be dependable, Be forgiving, Have integrity, Take responsibility for your actions, Have patience, Be loyal, Have respect for yourself and others

What does s/he believe is evil? The force in nature that governs and gives rise to wickedness and sin.

What does s/he believe is good? Morally excellent; virtuous; righteous; pious

Risks Worth Taking: Those that keep both the city and loved ones safe.

Important milestones: Making Lieutenant in the army. Reaching Detective in LAPD. NOT DYING whilst in both the Army or LAPD.

Achievements: The Purple Heart as a result of his capture & suffering endured during that time.

Failures: Getting Arrested as a teenager

Lifestyle: Busy

Character Traits: Hard-working, Brave, Compassionate, Honest, Successful, Fighter, Mischievous, Thoughtful, Sassy, Humorous, Helpful, Independent, Loyal, Courageous, Responsible.

Culture: 

Main Goal: Have a long and happy life, full of hard work, fun and family.

Minor Goal: Drive the damn car at work.

Desire: There are several.

Biggest mistakes: Getting in with the wrong crowd.

Life lessons: Not everyone is going to like you.

Dream Life: The one I have now

Worst Nightmare: The Hell I endured whilst on my final tour.

Favorite Memories: Winding my brother up. Making Detective. 

Least favorite memories: Getting Tortured

Things they want in life: Family. Love. Fun.

Things they don’t want in life: Suffering. Pain. Heartache.

What obstacles are currently in their way? Work.

Any secrets: Yes, but if you think he’s going to tell anyone, you’re idiotic.

Worldview: It’s just a little bit fucked.

Personal Hero:  Former Sergeant Major. 

Internal Conflict: Questioning if he’s good enough for his job at times.

External Conflict: Seeing the scars upon his body and being reminded of each event; wishing he could get rid of them all.

What others think of them: Fun and loveable; a genuine and caring guy. 

What they think of themselves: an idiot; not good enough. 

What they wish they could change: What they did in the past.

What they wish they could have: less strict father.

What gets them fired up: Liars. Suspects who think they’re clever. 

Their definition of a good life: A steady job with a family and friends surrounding them.

Risks worth taking: Anything that keeps both family and friends safe.

Things they take for granted: Coffee. Beer. Time at times.

What inspires them: Seeing justice get served. 

What they have doubts about: being good enough.

What makes them feel alive: The thrill of the chase.

What makes them want to do better: Any case they do not solve / Criminal that doesn’t get a guilty charge.

What do they want to be remembered for? Being a good and loyal man.

How will the character change? He might become a husband or a father? Perhaps even Lieutenant or Captain of LAPD some day.

[davidlynchschreibner]

It seems I come bearing another topical bouquet of fluff rather than the fic I am actually trying to finish. This one is Actual Rubbish and ran away from me a bit. But I’ve always wanted to see closeness and health in Matteo’s repairing relationship with his mother. I do not excuse what we know of the parenting problems that led Matteo to distance himself, however, this is meant to be a positive--- perhaps even sappy--- take. (Should I write one about David’s godmother too? Let me know because I have some thoughts.)

A note: Parts of this belong to a list of headcanons I started before the pandemic hit and as such imagine a world where we don’t have that reality. Is that out of line with the real-world spirit of Druck? Yes. Am I coping with life by writing about what this year should have been? Also yes.

Most Radiant Suns And Sons

For all that he lacks certainty about if he wants to go out with the boys tonight, what mood he will be in the following week, where he will live the month after, and what career he will pursue in the coming year, there are a few things that Matteo is sure of. One of these is that he loves his mother. Even in the stifling mineshaft of his depression he had never fully divorced himself from wanting to be near her. Indeed, if he did not love her with the strength he does he would never have grappled with their relationship and stressed over her reaction to certain elements of his person. Instead would have simply excised her in all but name from his life as he had his shitty father. Not every person is given to this kind of bond to their mother and there was nothing whatsoever requiring him to welcome her back into his life. But no matter what bitter edge his references to her had acquired in past painful periods, it was only the gritted teeth tone of an injured person and never real resentment.

That was the hardest part of it all, really, that he was so overwhelmed and exhausted he had to withdraw for his own sake. He had needed to be free of the sucking drain of his mother’s downward spiral. It was impossible to be there when his own developing depression rendered him inert by spreading numbness from the center of his chest to the tips of his fingers. He couldn’t care for another person, should never have had to, as he slowly surrendered to the weight of shovelfuls of damp earth burying him alive. Yet in the same breath that dismissed her he sighed with missing the lightness of Mama’s laugh and the slow flow of her hands carding through his hair. He pushed her away, cast his eyes to the ground, but could not tell her to stop calling him. However many congested streets and neglected texts he positioned between them there remained (in dim corners he avoided examining) a craving for tenderness and acceptance.

Their reconciliation was a soft-spoken and understated process. It came as the slow creep of dawn, a gentle spilling of light into the dark expanse of a troubled time. There was no reproach nor tense conversations. They spoke little of the past estrangement, save for the day Mama drew her son into the safe harbor of her arms and whispered her apology into his open ear. Matteo blotted the tears that came to his eyes on her shoulder and murmured back in kind. There was no need to unpack and pick through each mistake and no blame to assign. Proceeding amends were made with time spent in building a more stable place for their bond to live. Bricks of mellow afternoon visits, insulation of long hugs and kisses pressed to Matteo’s brow, wires of smiling conversations, carpet of revisited memories from happier periods of childhood. They came to each other as new and bettered people with a long future ahead.

On the opposite side, David didn't anticipate ever having a relationship with his boyfriend's mum beyond polite interest. He had no intimacy and little contact with the woman whose body had sculpted him and his godmother’s affection was backed by a lifetime of filling that void. The potential for rejection had been in his mind as the dull ache of a yellowed bruise when they went to meet Matteo’s Mama. She greeted him by clasping his hand in her fine-boned fingers and telling him she wished they had met sooner. Her voice was soft like a lullaby and she regarded him with eyes that promised multitudes of care. Perhaps he should have expected she would step over the threshold of his increasingly populated bunker and plop herself onto the bare floor the same way Matteo had. She never treated him like a stranger; instead she still looks at him with the same saltwater-blue wave of fondness that her son does. 

After months of getting to know and trust her David felt it was safe to explain the part of him that provided context to stories of the rocky start to his relationship with Matteo. Though her inexperienced confusion showed in the wrinkled skin around her eyes and a halting request for clarification, she received his explanation without resistance. Her reassurance that this would not change her perception was the kind of compassionate acceptance he wished his own mother had offered. Never once did she make him feel any less than he had been when she thought he was cis. She affirms him by treating him exactly the same as her son, aside from the little opportunistic affirmations she includes to make warmth swell inside him. He can see the protectiveness coiled in her shoulders when he mentions his past, a readiness to defend him from the whole world if she has to. There is a space kept for him in the circle of her sun-freckled arms. He well and truly loves her.

When the pleasant weather of 2019 began to fail everyone unconciously clustered closer together as if to keep warm. Filled by a renewed craving for home and closeness Matteo and David set aside one night each week to have dinner at Mama's new flat. It doesn't matter which day it is, or who is cooking, or how any one person is feeling. If Mama is not well Matteo cooks, or if he isn't able then she does, and on rare occasions it's up to David to rally his skills at reading recipes in Mama’s looping hand. But no matter what the mechanics are they make the family ritual work. Their attentive support of each other will catch whoever is sinking to the ground. What began as an effort to reconnect becomes an irreplaceable cornerstone of their lives. It's an opportunity to look after one another that the three of them need after that cold period of feeling so alone. In the humid, fragrant air of a cozy kitchen their wounds scab over, heal, and fade. 

It was actually his mother that convinced Matteo to seek therapy. David never pressed the issue with expectations or made his boyfriend feel broken for the recurrence of foggy moods and anxiety attacks. Not even when they stumbled and slogged through another major depressive episode. All around him people were prepared to meet Matteo’s needs as best they could determine. But braving the elements without a map or proper gear would find everyone in desperation at the end. He came to his decision not through any coercion or frustration but by observing his Mama. Counseling and medication helped her so much and she spoke candidly with him of her mental health struggles as she had felt unable to when he was younger. They have a better relationship now than over the many years of her dipping condition and inconsistent functioning. Matteo wanted to have those coping skills, too, so with the faithful support of his loved ones he sought the resources to help him. 

As spring began to swell buds and moods Mama rediscovered gardening. Her therapist prescribed something meditative with a tangible positive result, and she at first floundered unmoored until Matteo reminded her of the small plot she once tended so skillfully. To gently encourage her confidence he and David picked out a houseplant to gift the next time they visited and the smile she received it with was incandescent. After a few weeks of devout indoor care she broached the subject of planting a small and uncomplicated bed. Matteo grinned with all his teeth when she asked if they would help her. Being plant-lovers themselves the boys took pleasure in joining Mama there. Matteo found a profound connection to his body and its proximity to the people around him with his hands thrust into the crumbling earth. Sometimes they worked in the companionable silence of three introspective personalities. Others, they spoke about deep things as people only do while working. The garden is a good place. There they are putting down a lot of roots and not all of them belong to plants.

Mama has always been a fan of the outdoors, as Matteo recalls from sticky summer picnics and the rich smell of soil on her hands when they cupped his sunburnt cheeks. Not all his childhood memories are happy but the silhouettes of wild grass and lake shores come through a golden soft-focus lens. When Mama discovered David’s athleticism she joined forces with him to plan hikes, swimming trips, and numerous walks. Matteo was not sedentary by nature but he was then getting more exercise than he had since he was a child.  At first he wheezed and dragged and had to be motivated by David’s cunning tactic of turning everything into a competition. (It worked, mostly, save that time they were overly ambitious enough to try hiking in the Grunewald for an entire day and Matteo was so tired he sat down right in the center of the path.) Yet he didn’t mind the way his limbs were like ungainly cannons as he towed them up the stairs following a day of walking. At odds, his chest felt light and well aired out. 

When the summer set in fully Matteo found himself more often outside, be it jogging slowly after David while he ran in the morning, tending the garden with Mama (he discovered he finds pulling weeds cathartic), or engaged in some activity with his friends that required him to move more than his heat-softened limbs would like. He would once have complained of the insidious sunburn that always seemed to find cracks in his suncream application and pools of sweat that made his clothes clammy. But that was another time and another Matteo, one younger and less conscious of how special his relationships are. He loves all his people with the deceptively muted fire of a star, no matter what it is they ask of him. When they set themselves up for a day in the park the world seemed to roll wide before him. There was nothing on it he loved more than seeing the happy flushed faces of his favourite people glowing in the sun.

It was a surprising revelation that Matteo gets his sense of mischief from his mother. She has the peaceful face of a fresco saint and speaks quiet like they're in church but her son has her heart. David was thrown at first by her playful, teasing, impish side. It flickered up like bright sparks and the first few times Matteo seemed to cringe away as if he too was surprised. But over time he rediscovered a long discarded rapport and began to play back. David watched with laughing eyes and raised brows when she and Matteo got going at each other. And it wasn’t long before Mama started teasing David too. For such a kind person she could be a bit of a menace. It was completely endearing and welcome. She stuck soapy hands in her son’s hair to make horns and Matteo squawked then retaliated by swiping bubbles under her nose like a mustache. It was the kind of absurdity David had never imagined such a quiet woman could perform. He thought it fantastic.

She had met them briefly when Matteo moved in but it took time and meditation on the prospect to invite Mama into life at the WG. It was not a matter of shame regarding either party. He wasn’t certain of a friendship between a relatively conservative older woman and the youthful wildness of his flatmates. But he knew that to bring his mother fully back into his life this important part of it needed to be shared. He needn’t have worried. Mama loved Hans, who learned quickly that he need not don a costume to earn her respect. They spoke to one another with the soft intimate tone of kindred spirits united by their common depth of caring and love of one particular boy. Victoria flitted around like a bright bird that made Mama smile warmly and rest her hand upon its head. Though she was not over often due to being easily tired the WG was happy to tuck her into its embrace. With his Mama, David, and his flatmates arranged on furniture around him Matteo felt completely and contentedly at home.

Matteo had never experienced the sort of profound faith his mother enjoyed. Church was more a cultural experience than a religious one. Whenever she felt up to it Mama read stories from the bible to him before bed but he never did internalize them as divine truth. He enjoyed the reverent music and beautiful architecture as a child but felt always a little drained after service. The one thing he had an affinity for was choir, though he abandoned that activity when he was old enough to be concious of how uncool it was. Church was not something which he would attend alone but did so on occasion to spend time with his mother. She took immense comfort and pride in sharing her sacred experience with him and he in turn felt a modicum of satisfaction when she beamed at him over the pages of her choir book. Sometimes David joined them. Those services were the best, when Mama radiated joy on the right side of Matteo and he had David’s warm hand curled in his left.

Mama once him that he is the light in her world. She tips her head back to look at him like a person enjoying the sun after weeks of overcast weather. So he tries to show her his brightest face. He knows she is proud of him regardless of what he does in life. When he is slow to make decisions or arrange important sentences she tells him that he cannot disappoint her. Whatever gives him nourishment is what she dreams for him. It’s a comfort to know he doesn’t have to strive to make sweeping changes to the world and lofty successes to be valuable. It is possible to be wholly a sum of his many individual parts, imperfect as some are. Mama admires the gentle halo of his warmth, the wicked tilt of his smile as he sweeps mischief onto unsuspecting moments, the clever snap of his tongue and his restless fingers, the immeasurably gentle way he clasps close those who are struggling. He is her beautiful boy and she would want no other.

He is proud of his Mama, too, for taking the difficult steps that had moved her from the bottom of the hill to climbing its side. Sometimes she stumbles, slides back, even has to stop and sit for a bit to give her lungs rest. But she always digs her walking stick into the ground and begins the ascent again. Her legs burn with the strain but she does not let it stop her. Once Matteo had experienced deep dread that he was just like his mother. It had seemed to be so when he lost all interest in participating in the world. He sees now that it was true in its way: he is like his mother. But she passed on to him more than her sadness. Like an ocean of kindness she washes into him, their borders delineated by landmasses and temperature but ultimately comprised of one great expanse of water. They are not the same, he would not have it so, but he is no longer afraid of how they are alike. He has joys and and struggles and fears and victories the same as she. And Matteo loves his Mama.